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aprilblossomgirl · 8 months
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Laws of Attraction (2023) Episode 6, Dir. Wo Worawit Khuttiyayothin
"Okay. Hold on tight."
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autism-corner · 7 months
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im actually very glad it rained a bit tonight =w=b
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muirneach · 1 year
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eep so anyways i still dont know if i have school tomorrow but either way i AM going to the country im gonna have such a good time
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steddiealltheway · 3 months
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Eddie chronically leaves his rings at Steve’s place to the point that Steve checks the bathroom and kitchen sink every time after he leaves, only to find one of them there every time.
Not that Steve is entirely complaining since this means he gets to call him and Eddie gets to stop by on his own to pick them up.
But when they’re at the Wheeler’s place, and Eddie says he’s going to the bathroom, Steve says, “Be careful not to leave one of your rings behind,” with a wink that has the kids exchanging confused looks. But Steve doesn’t notice because he’s too distracted by the light blush coloring Eddie’s cheeks.
“Why would Eddie leave one of his rings behind?” Dustin asks Steve when Eddie’s out of earshot.
Steve laughs. “He leaves one behind every time he washes his hands I swear. I don’t know how he hasn’t lost one at this point.” But his amusement is quick to die down when he realizes the kids are staring at him as if he’s absolutely insane. “What?”
They all glance at each other, and Steve is surprised when Mike is the first to pipe in, “He never leaves them anywhere. They’re like his prized possession. I’ve never even seen him take them off.”
Steve frowns and glances around at everyone, sensing that there’s definitely something he’s missing, so he’s quick to lie, “Well, I guess it was only once or twice that it happened. Maybe it was my fancy soap. Made things too… slippery.”
He gets a few eye rolls at the comment, but the group is quick to move on especially when Eddie comes back a few moments later with all his rings on his hands.
Steve gives him a quick smile, and Eddie is quick to return it, eyes lingering on him for a few seconds longer than necessary and the same blush from earlier returning.
It hits Steve very suddenly.
The rings are an excuse to come back.
And with this knowledge, Steve’s let’s his own gaze linger on Eddie longer than he usually allows, moving into his space more often than not, and carefully keeping track of time, waiting for the hang out to end.
When it finally comes to a halt, Steve is quick to say his goodbyes, hoping that Eddie will join and let the kids have their unnecessarily prolonged goodbyes in private. And luckily, Eddie is quick to move out of the basement, following after Steve in a way that’s supposed to look causal but is anything but casual now that Steve knows to look for the signs.
When he and Eddie silently go out the front door, Steve is quick to turn to him and hold out his hand. Eddie gives him a confused look but offers his hand which Steve takes and slides one of the rings off of.
Eddie stares at it for a moment, looking slightly frightened, as if he’s been caught doing something he isn’t supposed to.
Steve is quick to soothe the fear as he pockets the ring and says, “Just so you’ll have an excuse to stop by later tonight.”
Eddie’s cheeks flush bright red and he runs a hand over his face. “Shit.”
Steve laughs, “So it has been on purpose?”
“No,” Eddie clearly lies, pulling a strand of hair in front of his face.
“And what if I told you I wanted it to be on purpose?” Steve asks.
Eddie freezes for a moment as if he’s waiting for Steve to tell him that he’s joking, but Steve sits in the silence, letting the question settle between them.
“Then,” Eddie starts, taking a small step forward into Steve’s space, “I would-”
The door behind them bursts open and Dustin yells, “Hurry up I have a curfew!” as he races off to Steve’s car.
Steve rolls his eyes at the kid and takes a step back as everyone else makes their way out the door to the cars or their bikes.
Steve and Eddie linger behind for a moment, which Steve uses to quietly ask, “I’ll see you tonight?”
Eddie gives him a bashful smile in return and nods. “Yeah, I’ll see you tonight.”
Steve resists the urge to celebrate in any way in front of the kids and instead puts his hand in his pocket, fingers curling around Eddie’s ring.
As he gets into his car, ignoring Dustin bitching and complaining, he slips the ring over his finger and smiles at it.
He notices the car go quiet and he nearly groans at his mistake.
“Is that Eddie’s ring?” Dustin screeches.
It’s going to be a long drive home, but Steve doesn’t mind when he has Eddie to look forward to.
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venusstorm · 11 months
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𝘽𝙪𝙢𝙗𝙡𝙚𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙨 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙃𝙤𝙣𝙚𝙮𝙗𝙚𝙚𝙨
The time in which you gifted Bucky Barnes an adorable little keychain for his motorcycle.
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ෆ Warnings: 18+ – MINORS DNI, fluff, insecurity, Bucky can’t stop lifting you up
ෆ Bucky Barnes x Reader
ෆ w/c: 1.2k
̟ ෆ ‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿ ෆ ̟
"Isn't this yours, honeybee?" Bucky questions, dangling the bright yellow bumblebee with a pastel pink heart in his hand. He inspects it carefully, turning it around before offering it back to you.
You shake your head, "It was, yea...but..."
Bucky stares at you expectantly and suddenly the entire idea sounded foolish. You couldn't help but envision him laughing at you, snorting at how ridiculous he'd look flying down the highway with your dumb keychain flapping in the wind. It'd stick out like a sore thumb against his jet-black bike, the rev of his engine alone probably sending the poor bee soaring into the clouds.
"I put it in there by accident," you laugh nervously, reaching out for the tiny bee. But his hands clenched tightly around the keychain before you could grab it.
Almost tauntingly he lets it hang in front of your face, staring at you with a half smile.
"On accident?" He hums. "So the keychain that's been on your backpack since the day I met you just somehow found its way into my birthday present?"
You shrug. "I took it off and must've misplaced it."
His eyes glimmer with question but instead of pushing further, he lets it go. He shrugs, "Okay."
Your face falls as he hands the keychain back to you. You squeeze the poor ball of fluff, trying your best not to belittle yourself for being so nervous.
It's for the best, you told yourself. I'm sure he doesn't want some weird form of "staking claim" on his bike. His buddies would make fun of him for it anyway. It's better if it stays with me. Yea. Better.
Hurriedly you try to direct your attention away from your thoughts, shoving the keychain into your pocket.
Your solemn expression brightens into excitement. "I have another surprise!"
You take Bucky's hand, leading him towards your living room which noticeably had a different ambiance than usual. He happily trails behind you, watching your joyous face with adoration.
Every time he's with you his brain goes fuzzy. You allow him to decompress, relax, and think about nothing besides the moment he's in. He craves getting off of work and coming straight to your apartment, still sweaty and dirty from working at the bar, and yet you run up and give him the biggest hug. "Hang on, let me take a shower, honeybee." But you'd ignore him, smashing your lips against his until he gives up rationalizing and allows you to strip him bare.
"I know it's kind of corny and if you'd rather go out and celebrate I completely understand. I just thought this would..."
He can't focus on your words. Not as he's looking at what you had done. Candles lit around the room, the whole place smelling of warm vanilla and cinnamon. Fairy lights twinkled around the ceiling, draping over the windows. The coffee table has been shoved to the side and in its place is a bundle of blankets and floor pillows. Balloons and streamers are scattered across the room, and finally, he zones in on the blue and white cake.
"Happy Birthday James!" it reads. He could tell that you made it because of the bright red heart dotting the i.
He whispers your name in pure disbelief.
"Yes?" You stare up at him with admiration. You truly love this man and want to do everything in your power to show it.
"C'mere, baby." Bucky scoops you up into a hug, hiking you up until your legs are wrapped around his waist. He holds you close against his chest, kissing you sweetly. "You did all this for me?"
You nod, eyes wide as he stares at your lips. A look of pure hunger ravishes you. Bucky presses his forehead against yours, his chest rising and falling rapidly.
He couldn't recall a time before you when his heart felt as if it would beat out of his chest. Nor a time when his eyes became so glazed over with pure adoration that he swore he'd cry right then and there. He was hesitant about this future, the new world that he found himself forced to live in. But the moment he saw your sweet smile for the first time, all that faded away.
"Thank you, Princess." You whimper as he whispers into your ear, his hands traveling up the Henley that you stole from his drawer. He didn't mind you stealing his clothes. The first time he caught you he handed you a pile of his shirts, begging you to take them and wear them as your own.
He kisses your shoulder softly. "Thank you for being here for me."
"For taking the time to know me and care for me."
His lips press against your neck, a soft groan rumbling within his throat. "I still remember the day we met...felt like the universe was finally giving me my happy ending."
You state his name breathlessly. "I'm supposed to be celebrating you, not the other way around."
He ignores your remark, his eyes narrowing as his brain begins to churn. "Do you trust me, sweetheart?"
You respond without hesitation. "With everything."
"And you'll always tell me the truth, right?"
You nod reassuringly.
He releases his grip on your legs, setting you back onto the ground. "So tell me what this is about." His hand shoots into your pocket, pulling out the black and yellow bee. He squeezes it in his hand before laying it out in his palm.
"I told you–"
He raises an eyebrow, "The truth."
You didn't want to come off as too clingy and you didn't want to hear Bucky reject your gift. Thank you baby but...it's a little childish. You could hear the words flowing from his lips perfectly. He'd hate it.
"I–"
Bucky pulls you closer. His eyes flooded with warmth. "Please."
"It was for your bike," you whisper. "And before you say anything. I know it's dumb...that's why I took it back."
"My bike?"
You nod wordlessly. "I thought it'd be cute if you had a little piece of me wherever you go. But the more I thought about it the more I realized how stupid it'd probably look. I mean...none of the other guys have–"
Bucky cuts you off, lifting you off the ground and back into his arms. "Oh, baby...is this what you were hiding?"
You nod sheepishly. "It's stupid."
He shakes his head. "It's perfect. You're perfect. M'gonna tie this onto it right now, honeybee. The guys are going to be so fucking jealous when they see what you got me."
Your lips broaden into a smile. "Really?"
Bucky hugs you tightly, his hand caressing your head against his shoulder. "Gotta let the whole world know I've got the most thoughtful, gorgeous person by my side. M'never taking it off, baby. It goes where I go now."
You squeal as he races into the garage with you in his arms, flicking the lights on and heading towards his bike. He sets you down gently, making a show of the keychain in his hand before attaching it to his key ring. Happily, he throws his leg over the bike, twisting the ignition. The bike roars to life and the sight of your bright yellow bee against the black exterior makes you burst out into laughter.
Bucky grins. "See? It's perfect, baby. Told you."
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reality-of-love · 1 year
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thathellwecalllove · 1 year
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I bike to school and it’d help if a fuck ton of cars didn’t act scandalized at the fact that they see me. Yes hun, you’re driving your kids to school but I know for a fact you don’t need to drive in the bike lane so don’t fucking run me over.
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dior-and-dietcoke · 5 months
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" HOT MODEL SEX. " | TOMAN VERSION
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starring! : mitsuya, mikey, model!hakkai
cw! : 18+, dacryphilia, public, afab!reader, oral, praise, sex on a bike, a lot of outfit descriptions, its a long one, sub!hakkai, threesome, implied mitsuya x hakkai,
summary! : future!toman with a messy model!reader working for mitsuya
a/n! : I had so much fucking fun writing this so I might write a part 2 (bonten version)
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It all started when you got a gig to model for this newer brand from Japan. You were actually contacted and called by the designer of this brand to model. He was very sweet and understanding. Which was very rare in the modeling industry. So you were intrigued, not only by the pieces of the designer but by the designer himself.
So when you arrived in Japan he already got you a cab from the airport to a fancy hotel and all.
When you were actually there at the shooting, they gave you a black belt with a big silver belt buckle in the shape of the familiar dragon symbol of all his clothing, then the woman gave you low waisted flared jeans with another dragon on each side of the legs. you raised your eyebrows in awe. It looked sexy.
"What about the shirt?" You asked the woman. "Oh, you will be shirtless in this shooting," She said and handed you sunglasses with another silver dragon on both sides. "You're okay with that, aren't you?" She asked, not being completely aware of your contract, but yes, you were okay with it, known for it, actually. You did loads of provocative pictures for dior, Versace, and miu miu.
"Oh yeah, don't worry about it." You smiled and disappeared into the dressing room "mister mitsuya will be here soon but if he's not here once you're done we'll just start without him." You let out a hum of approval as you took your shirt off.
You didn't immediately come out once you were done, first you were admiring the craftsmanship of the clothing and how hot you looked, so you striked a few poses until you heard the heavy door open from outside the dressing room and greetings to the designer.
Then you decided to leave the room without your robe on, so you just covered your nipples with your arm.
You looked around as your heels clacked through the room. You spotted the lilac haired man you knew from magazines, with his back turned to you as he talked to the woman who handed you the clothes. You saw the woman's eyes light up behind her glasses and pointed at you, making the man turn around. You immediately smiled at him, but he seemed a little surprised that you weren't wearing a robe. He smiled and walked up to you. "mitsuya, correct?" You asked bowing to greet him. He did the same."Takashi is fine. " he smiled at you, very obviously trying not to look at your squished up tits "it's really nice to finally meet and work with you"
"Likewise, I'm absolutely in love with your work and ideas!" You complimented him with a bright smile. He returned the smile and the compliment before the woman came back to lead you to the set. It was a white background with a motorcycle in front of it, you were already so fucking excited about how they would turn out, you snapped your finger and cheered lowly as you strutted towards the bike
"You've ever been on one?" Mitsuya asked casually standing behind the computer that would display the pictures, you swung one of your legs over the bike and let go of your tits to grab the handles "nope, but I was always so attracted to guys on bikes" you grinned, to which mitsuya surprisingly said "I got a bike, she's a real beauty" you looked up at him through your glasses and already knew: you're gonna fuck this man after this.
And fuck him you did.
You were pressed against the door of your hotel room as the handsome lilac haired man lifted one of your thighs to press himself further against you as he messily made out with you, your lipgloss staining his lips and the sides of his mouth.
He hummed as you reached down to feel his erection and he broke the kiss to look down at your hand on his clothes cock before looking back into your pretty eyes, "did riding my bike with me turn you on that much?" He asked out of breath, you bit your bottom lip and nodded "fuck yeah it did.." you giggled, to which he grabbed your hips to pick you up as if you weighed nothing and throw you on the bed.
Seeing you lay there, legs spread, hair messy and your lips swollen due to kissing him made him feral.
He got between your legs and started unbuckling his belt, watching take your panties off and raise your black tight dress. "Fuck, you're hot.." he hummed before he leaned back down to kiss you again while pulling your dress down your tits to expose them to him again.
"You want it, baby?" He asked against your lips as his cock lightly tapped your sensitive clit, making you gasp and whine "fuck! Yes, yes! Please.."
Mitsuya groaned at your sexy voice begging for his cock. "Fuck yeah.." he replied mindlessly to your begging as the tip of his red hot cock began to slide as slow as he possibly could into your tight and already wet pussy. Fuck he never felt anything like it...his nerves were on fire his skin tingled and his eyes rolled back in pleasure.
You gripped the sheets with your expensive manicured nails and curled your toes in absolute bliss and ecstasy just from him sliding inside of you. "ffuckk-you feel good, baby-oh shit.." mitsuya babbled as his hips stuttered against you, making you shiver and arch your back.
"O-ooohh!" You wailed, grinding against him "please just-" you got cut off by your own slutty moan as his cock twitched inside of you "please fuck me, taka.."
His eyes widened as you said his name in such an erotic way, his cock was never harder than it was right now..his mind just shut off and he began ramming his hips into your own, shoving his cock even deeper into your tight and weeping pussy.
Your head shot back along with your eyes rolling back into your skull at the overwhelming feeling of pleasure crawling up your body, making your mouth water and your mind foggy.
You've never had a better fuck, and you hoped you'll work more often with mitsuya...
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After the best sex you've ever had, mitsuya asked if you'd wanna also do a runway show for his new fashion line, and you obviously said yes. Not only do you love his clothes, but doing runways is almost just as fun as the shooting.
As you were getting your makeup done, you saw mitsuya in the corner of your eye, he walked up to you and looked at your gorgeous face in the mirror with his pretty hands on your shoulder "my friends are here tonight to see this line, it's inspired by my delinquent times" he laughed softly as his thumb rubbed your shoulder "we're going to a bar after the show and I think they'd be more than excited to meet you.." You grinned and looked him in his purple eyes through the mirror. "Oh? Is that so?" You giggled. "Why is that?"
Mitsuya smiled. "I showed them your finished pictures because I knew they'd love the 'half naked pretty girl on a bike' concept." he huffed out a quick laugh, he did more than just show them your pictures, he also told them about what an amazing fuck you are..and you knew he did, you're not stupid after all.
"Mhh..then I'd be happy to meet them too" you grinned.
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mitsuya sat down next to mikey and baji. Mitsuya stretched out his legs before crossing them. "She said she'd live to meet you all" baji grinned "oh fuck yeah, bet she's even hotter in person." Mikey laughed at his comment but draken stepped in "bet she's a lot of fun too after what Mitsuya told us" to which the lilac haired man nodded "she's a real sweetheart"
The lights then finally went off except for the ones illuminating the runway, the music started and two women holding hands came out dressed in black dresses looking like his brand logo and matching tattoo with his best friend.
After multiple gorgeous men and women strutted out in mitsuyas toman inspired outfits, finally mitsuya saw your beautiful figure strut out in your beautifully confident and sassy walk, wearing the glasses you had on in the photoshoot, a short black leather jacket with a white dragon on the back of it, no shirt or bra underneath. A sexy Jean mini skirt swaying around your hips with a little chain covered in Swarovski diamonds, while your black leather high heeled boots barely audible due to the music clacked on the white runway, Your hair swaying as you turned and posed before turning back to walk back.
The men watched every move you made, every step, sway, and every flip of your gorgeous hair. You were even hotter in person, you looked like a fucking dream.
The way you walked was so fucking confident and the way you posed was so attractive for some reason
"No wonder she's a model.." Mikey murmured absolutely enamored. He wasn't able to take his eyes off you for a single second, none of them could.
And since that night, you started working more for mitsuya in Japan just because you genuinely enjoyed his company, his work, and his friends, of course. You've met baji, mikey, draken and sanzu.
All of them were so fun to hang out and get drunk with. The attention they gave you was unlike any other, maybe it's because these men were your dream in your teenage years, and the stories they told were so fun to listen to.
And not only that, they were also fucking hot. Baji's hair was just literally your weak spot, the way he would sometimes swipe his hair over his shoulder.
The way draken worked on bikes, how his hands were so talented, and oh, what they could do to you..
Or how when you'd be at one of mikeys races and every time he'd win and cross that line, you knew you were crazy wet. You jumped and yelled until your throat was sore.
speaking of sore..
mikey took you back inro his garage at the racecourse when no one was working, to show you his bikes.
he told you all of their names and when he got them as the two of you were drinking a beer, you smiled at the cute names the bikes had and you always liked listening to mikey talk, he was fun and sweet.
mikey walked over to his newest bike and waved you over to it. "wanna sit on it?" he asked. You shivered at his question as you imagined to sit on something else..
but you shook those invasive thoughts off and happily nodded before you swung your beautiful legs over the bike to place your ass on the cold leather, mikey watched closely as your soft emerald dress hiked up your legs, and how your pretty heels stood on each side of his bike.
he took a sip of his beer before speaking up again "youre lucky i didn't know you back in the day.." You curiously looked up at him through his black hair as he tilted his head, taking you fully in.
"Why do you say that? i'm sure we could have had lots of fun," you grinned, biting your bottom lip
mikey chuckled and shook his head at your bluntness. "i bet.." he took another swig, "but if i knew you, i would have never let you go." he grinned, to which you sat straight up.
"That doesn't sound too bad.." If you knew any of the guys back then, you would have done the same.
Mikey just grinned and got closer to you, putting his one hand on the handle of his bike and the other on your back. You looked up into his beautiful gloomy but sensual eyes before you just reached up to press your lips onto his own.
Not soon after you were bent over the bike, desperately holding onto the bike handles as the black haired man fucked you from behind, his hands on your wide hips and his nails digging into your flesh.
Your legs were shaking on either side of the bike on your golden heels, your legs felt like jello as Mikey's cock hit all the right spots inside you. "Fuck, you feel so fuckin' good" he groaned as your pussy gripped him so tightly that it was hard not to cum immediately. The way your pussy fluttered around him felt like absolute heaven. His hands started to drag you back and forth onto his cock as his own legs began to wobble "oh shit-" his head threw back as the fear a familiar tingle up his back and down his crotch.
"Can I cum inside you?" Mikey asked as he leaned over you, reaching around to hastily play with your clit in an attempt to drive you closer to your own climax.
You could swear you started seeing stars as Mikey began to roll his hips against you. Your manicured hands gripped the handles harder as you drooled onto the seat like a dumb fuck toy "uhh-uh-huh" you mindlessly babbled in approval, Mikey took his left hand from your hip to grab your drool drenched chin and lift it up so you were looking right back into his pretty eyes "I need a clear answer, baby..." his thrusts became slow and hard, his tip teasing your sweet spot over and over again, "yyes! Fucking-ah!" You moaned and clenched down hard on his long cock "cum inside!!"
Mikey didn't need any further encouragement. He kissed your cheek. "Good girl.." Before he sat back up to grab those beautiful hips again and slam into at a fast pace.
Your back arched, and your toes almost lifted off the ground as you felt your orgasm rapidly approaching. "f-fuck! Mikey!!" You yelled out, not caring if there was anyone around that could hear, let them hear. Let them hear you getting one of the best fucks you've ever had.
"Mhm- just like that," Mikey huffed as his hand gently clapped your ass before caressing it. "Get loud, baby.."
Mikeys eyes gently rolled back and his mouth hung open as he felt his cock tingle and throb before he came harder than he ever did, he moaned so prettily and his cum was so sticky and warm as you two came together.
Mikeys hand grabbed your hand on the handles as he rode out his high with his head held low.
After the two of you came down from your highest high of your life, mikey just wrapped his arms around you from behind, snuggling his head against your sweaty back. With his cock still inside you and slowly softening "that was fucking amazing.." you said, laying your hot, sweat dripping face onto the cool leather of the seat.
"Mhh.." Mikey hummed, his hands just continued to caress your tummy and his lips gently meeting your skin.
This felt like such a cute and sweet moment, if only your legs weren't sore as fuck from getting banged on a motorcycle.
"Mikey, honey.. we need to get up, my legs are so sore, " but you just felt him shake his head and pout. "Not yet.." You laughed and put your hand on the one that was rubbing your stomach.
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In the morning, after the intense night with mikey, you had another shoot planned with mitsuya.
He mentioned that one of his models is going to pose with you and that it's going to be provocative. Provocative is your second name. so even though your legs were still a little shaky, you were beyond excited to meet another friend of mitsuyas.
As you stepped into the studio, you saw mitsuya discussing something with a blue haired man. His hair was shoulder-length, and he had a scar decorating the side of his lips.
"TAKAAA!" You said happily, raising your arms. Immediately, mitsuya turned his head and smiled at you before embracing you a little longer for a friendly hug. He kissed your cheek before looking back into your pretty eyes. "How are you?" He asked sweetly.
You actually blushed and giggled as if you were a teenage girl again. "I'm good, I'm good, but don't you wanna introduce me to your friend?" You turned around to face the tall man, who just froze up at your sudden attention.
Mitsuya chuckled. "Right, of course.." he opened his arms politely and introduced you to the man, to which he bowed, "and this tower of a man is hakkai shiba"
You smiled as you looked him up and down, which sent a shiver up the man's back.
He was wearing an open leather biker jacket without a shirt underneath, dark blue jeans held up by a big belt with a silver belt buckle, the same one that you wore on your first shoot with mitsuya.
You bowed and looked back up at him, making sure to be obvious that you thought he was hot.
Mitsuya just held back a laugh as hakkai stared at you wide-eyed and stiff as a board.
"Naomi has your clothes, by the way, I'm sure hakkai is already more than ready for you," the lilac haired man grinned and left to one of his assistants.
Naomi was the woman who helped you on your first day. You learned after the few days of working for mitsuya.
You had a nice conversation with Naomi as you got dressed in a black and red biker jacket paired with a black mini skirt - and I mean TINY mini skirt. Your ass was peeking out of it. Underneath the skirt was a thong of mitsuya's latest lingerie line, hakkai was supposed to lift your skirt to show it off, with you dragging his jeans down to reveal the male underwear line, you were so excited to pose with this fine ass man.
You put on the golden chain with the dragon on it before leaving the dressing room.
When you arrived at the set, the tall blue haired man was already getting some pictures taken until mitsuya clapped his hands to get everyone's attention, and the people already knew the main shoot would be starting now, your heels clacked against the floor as you happily waved with both hands.
As you arrived next to hakkai, he tried so hard to avoid eye contact awkwardly until he finally spoke up, "Hey, this is okay with you, right?" He asked quietly. You giggled and nodded. "Yes, of course." You turned to the camera and put your hand around his hips to pull his pants down to the side, exposing the black briefs.
Hakkai hesitated but lifted your mini to show your thong off. He kept his focus on the camera as you two tried different poses.
Mitsuya just had a sly grin on his face the whole shoot
"Okay," mitsuya started "now get on your knees and like pull his jeans down" you nodded and did as mitsuya said, hakkai accidentally let out a gasp as he saw you on your knees infront of him, the tried as hard as he could to keep his cool but it was hard..just like him.
He was getting hard. He just hoped you wouldn't notice.
But oh, you noticed. you grinned before putting your hand on his crotch, your insides tingled as you felt it twitch in your hand.
Mitsuya nodded and spoke up again. "Now hakkai, do the same to her." Hakkai swallowed hard as he got down on his knees while you were already up on your feet, hakkai shyly pulled your skirt up and audibly gasped when he felt your heel on his shoulder, he swear he could almost smell the sweet scent of your pretty pussy at this "distance"
You bit your lip a little and put your hand in his hair, making hakkai softly whine.
Mitsuya stood there with his arms crossed as smiling in satisfaction. "Perfect..." he murmured, admiring the two of you together, clearly noticing the sexual tension between you two.
After the shoot was over, you didn't waste a second to invite hakkai to your changing room. Claiming you wanna "discuss some poses," and it technically wasn't a lie.
Once you were inside, you started kissing hakkai against the wall. He moaned in surprise, and the feeling of your beautiful body pressed against his own, both of you half naked from the waist up.
"You're pretty.." hakkai said between messy and wet kisses,"I know~" You hummed before continuing to make out with the pretty man.
You slightly hummed into his mouth when you felt his shaky hands softly grip your waist.
To his surprise, you suddenly got down on your knees, and before he could ask, you pulled his pants down along with his boxers. Letting his long cock jump out.
You grinned up at him before grabbing it and licking around his hot tip, hakkai moaned, and you felt his thighs twitch and move. "Oh fuck-" he whined, hakkais cute sounds woke something carnal inside of you. He was so sensitive already..
you continue to hallow your cheeks and lick through his wet slit, making the man obviously weak in the knees. They buckled, and his hands desperately wanted to just touch your beautiful and feminine body.
but his mind was just foggy with the mindblowing pleasure of your lips around his cock.
"a-ahh! you feel -" he moaned and threw his head back. "s-so goood-ah!" His cock twitched in your mouth as you lowered your head down to the base of his cock.
Hakkai grabbed at the wall behind him as his eyes rolled back, "f-fuck!" He let out a cute whimper, almost as if he was crying, and honestly, he could cry at how good he feels right now. His brain can't comprehend it.
So he just brainlessly asked "c-can I fuck you-please?" And you immediately looked up at his pretty, groggy and hooded eyes.
In response, you just got up and kissed him. You pulled at his jacket and let him cage you in against the wall. You then ripped his jacket off, making the silver chain on his neck jingle through the sound of your wet lips smacking against each other.
You pulled your own jacket off and pulled the latex bikini off, while hakkai pulled your thong slowly down and gasped at the sight of your bare pussy.
"Like what you see, hun?" You smiled, putting your hand into his soft, blue hair. He softly bites his bottom lips before speaking up "can I maybe-" he gasped breathlessly "can I eat your pussy?"
You nodded. "Go ahead, baby." hakkai didn't waste a second to suck on your swollen clit. Due to the sounds of your moans and hakkais wet sucking and tongue fucking, you didn't hear the door open. "Just as I thought" your eyes shot open and hakkai turned his head "t-taka-chan- I uh-" he began to apologize but mitsuya just shook his head and smiled "no keep going, look at her..she's so needy" you grinned at his statement and hakkai just continued, he didn't even think about it twice. He was too pussy drunk to stop.
You moaned and looked down at the pretty man, "No, no.." mitsuya spoke softly next to you, making you look at him with his hand on your hot cheek."Keep your eyes on me, okay?"
You nodded as your hips began to grind into hakkais face.
Mitsuya then started kissing your shoulder, slowly moving up to your neck. And sucking on your delicate skin. "Takashi-ah!" You drunkenly muttered. "Shh, we got you.." he softly said against your neckline before sliding down to grab at your tits and sucking your nipple into his mouth.
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The second you all got out again, your hairs were all messy, faces flushed, and still a little sweaty. You and hakkai had hickeys all over your necks and chests, while mitsuya looked calm and collected as always, aside from his kiss swollen lips and flushed face.
You could barely walk after getting tag teamed by both of the pretty men.
The assistants and photographers stared at you three for obvious reasons.
Mitsuya got back behind the computers. "Get in position, you two!" He commanded. You were surprised that Mitsuya wanted to take more pictures even though the both of you looked literally fucked.
But your confusion disappeared once you saw the pictures. You looked so hot in these.
Especially the one where you two faux open-mouthed kissed. "We'll definitely use this one." Mitsuya pointed at the exact picture you were admiring. "You both look amazing."
Mitsuya turned his head to look at you, and you shyly smiled.
You might have a little crush on mitsuya..
He then walked up to you and kissed you on the cheek. "Let's go eat something later, hm?" You smiled at him and put your hands on his waist. "I'd love to, taka"
Fuck you love your work lately.
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lilyginnyblackv2 · 1 year
Text
Some long, big thoughts on Kazuki, Rei, and being “Fathers.” - SPOILERS!
I really think this episode is when Kazuki and Rei really face the reality that they are Miri’s FATHERS. Like, it finally sunk in.
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The lady here uses otou-sama, which is a very formal way to address the two of them, very stuffy. But also very...Japanese. In Japan, it is very commonplace nowadays for little kids to use papa and mama when addressing their parents, but those are still seen as loanwords. They don’t carry the same weight as being referred to, and seen as, FATHERS.
That question and how they would be perceived by others really hit them here. They aren’t just playing house at home anymore, they are out in society and are going to be perceived as this Miri’s fathers. That may also come with the assumption that they are a couple or in a relationship with each other. 
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They both look uncomfortable here at that realization, but neither one really denies it either. Of course, this daycare is very unwelcoming and the lady far more judgmental than Anna. So that also likely plays a part in how they feel and react here too. The first daycare they go to  focused more on the business side of things. 
The room is huge, but empty, the walls are colorful, but not bright. Miri is sent off to play with blocks and the lady never directly addresses her or asks for her thoughts on things. Everything about this daycare is unwelcoming and uninviting and unaccepting, so Rei and Kazuki act coldly to this initial realization and the usage of the word FATHER here, seems very fitting.
It’s not a happy, bubbly, childlike, and even fantastical like the word “Papa” is. And the lady interviewing them, was definitely judging them, even before Miri started mentioning some more...suspicious stuff, lol.
Now, when they go to Aozora Daycare, Anna also addresses them using the word father in Japanese, but she goes with otou-san, still formal, but not stuffy and far more common and approachable. It’s still not “Papa” though. She only uses “Papa” when she talks to Miri about Rei and Kazuki. 
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(In the Japanese she directly addresses Kazuki first by calling him otou-san and then stating that she was asking Miri, not him, haha). 
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We are met with understanding here, though. Not judgement. The walls of Aozora are filled with children’s art projects, a piano that indicates singing and dancing time as a group, and warm smiles and comfy clothes. Everything that indicates a child-first daycare center. 
The whole interview process ends successfully. The daycare views them as suitable parents and Miri got accepted into the school. 
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And while Rei looks disinterested during this entire interview. He was paying just as close attention to everything as Kazuki was, and if watch the high-five scene with a good eye, you can see that Rei actually has his hand up and waiting for Miri’s high-five before Kazuki.He understands her and her flow so well.
The rest is going under a Read More due to length.
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Next we see them navigating all the prep work. And even though Rei did fall asleep at one point, we see that they both put in as much effort and energy as they can to get everything right for Miri and her first day of daycare. They both read through the handbook, write her names on things, even Rei did some sewing too. They exhaust themselves out. 
They think they make a great first impression on that first day:
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But they make a lot of faux pas in the world of Japanese parenthood (specifically in a space that tends to be dominated by motherhood).
Arriving by car = ✘
Wearing suits that aren’t black = ✘
Having Miri wearing clothes that look expensive = ✘
Arriving by car is equated to wealth and money, and even to showing off, as opposed to riding a bike.
Wearing suits that aren’t black is associated with the underbelly side of Japan, men that work in the red light district or with the yakuza. An exception to this would be like, in many places, the entertainment business.
Dressing Miri up in clothes that look expensive plays into the whole “yakuza daughter” vibes, but also makes it so that she stands apart from the other children. It can also make it so that Miri has a difficult time putting the clothes on and off herself, which could take up class time when coming in from play time, getting ready to go home, and etc.
I worked at a juku (cram school) with a daycare. Most of the students I cared for there were native Japanese kids between 2 - 4 years old whose parents were working in America. My boss would often get annoyed when parents would bring their (usually daughters) in wearing fancy shoes that looked pretty, but hurt the child’s feet and were hard for the child to take on and off themself. 
Kids around Miri’s age are also shown to be aware of economic and social class on some level as well. 
LOS ANGELES, Calif. (Ivanhoe Newswire) -- Rich, poor, middle class. Parents often believe it’s their responsibility to shield their children from economic differences and social class.
But new research shows children as young as five years old are not economically blind. In fact, by the time they reach prekindergarten, kids know the difference.
This group of primary school kids already knows what money can buy.
Combine that with the (thirsty though they were) mothers who probably advised their children to not get on Miri’s bad side because of her dad’s, and her outfits that set her apart, and scenes like this one:
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Don’t seem so out-of-place.
When Kazuki and Rei pick Miri up at school, her answer to “How was your first day? Have fun?” being “I dunno yet.’ Set’s off alarm bells - even with Rei.
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His brows are furrowed. He knows that something is off and wrong with that statement. They don’t know what they did wrong, and they don’t know how to fix it. Miri gets quieter and sadder and this is the first time they’ve had to actually deal with Miri on a deeper, emotional level. 
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That feeling like you are failing a child (whether your own, one of your students, or just a child in your care) is such a devasting feeling. This episode expresses it well by having these scenes all take place on the way home from the daycare, when the sun is setting. 
Thankfully, Kazuki is open to listening to what Miss Anna has to tell him, and she is so supportive. She doesn’t judge them or treat them like they are incompetent or incapable. She just gives them the push in the right direction, with “insider info” in a way, to get them and Miri acclimated correctly. And Rei and Kazuki jump on it. They love that they’ve found this place with a bunch of good quality cheap shit that can help them and make their lives easier.
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And after this, Miri goes to school in regular clothes. Kazuki goes to the play area in the regular clothes, and he is just genuine and authentic with the kids. He doesn’t dress Miri up in a way that sets her apart anymore (on a class level, in a way that makes the other kids think she is “saying” “don’t play with me.”). 
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Kazuki, especially, isn’t trying to “fake it until he makes it anymore.” He isn’t trying to give the impression that they are rich. And I wouldn’t be surprised if he also felt a bit more pressure to get everything right because he and Rei are two guys raising a kid together - two FATHERS. 
But then he realizes letting Miri and him and Rei just be themselves is enough.
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This was very much so a Kazuki issue that ended up negatively impacting Miri. A situation I’m sure every parent (or even teacher, like I’ve been before) has experienced on some level. It’s one of the harsher parts of being a parent and trying to help your child and do what’s right.
And now, he and Rei have one foot further into parenthood, since they know about this new shop and:
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Gave Miri her own room.
That is such a big deal. Similar in a way to how people say not to name an animal unless you plan on keeping it as a pet. Not because Miri can be compared to a pet or an animal in any way like that, but because of what it implies on both an emotional attachment level and a “she is now a permanent part of our household” level. 
That's a fully decorated room, filled with toys and plush dolls and games, a bed, books, a rug, even a desk. A desk filled with stationary supplies for her to learn and something which is viewed as a necessity for children to have at home when they are in elementary and junior high school (especially). 
Rei and Kazuki have gone from being Miri’s “Papas” on a sort of imaginary, “playing house” level, with very limited outside and real-world/societal interactions to being her fathers. They have integrated her and themselves as her parents and fathers into society on a large level now. 
By investing in that room, they are investing in Miri, and are openly choosing to be viewed as her fathers - as partners. Even if they don’t necessarily view each other in that way, it doesn’t matter to them in the end, because Miri is what’s most important. 
(Note: I will link to the news article and report that stated that information about children and economic class recognition in the comments).
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eldritch-thrumming · 28 days
Text
is it casual now?, pt. two
pt. one
my friends call me a loser ‘cause i’m still hanging around. i’ve heard so many rumors that i’m just a girl that you bang on your couch. i thought you thought of me better, someone you couldn’t lose. you said, “we’re not together,” so now when we kiss i have anger issues. you said, “baby, no attachments,” but we’re knee deep in the passengers seat and you’re eating me out, is it casual now?
around one in the morning, steve can’t take the tossing and turning anymore. he calls robin and she just says she’s coming over. she rides her bike all the way to steve’s house in the dark even though he tells her over and over not to do that. she just does.
he both loves and hates that she does.
steve’s on the couch in the living room again, moved back downstairs when he realized sleep wasn’t coming tonight. he’s sitting right where eddie had looked at him and rejected him. right where eddie had decided steve wasn’t worth the trouble. even in the privacy of his own mind, steve knows he’s not being exactly fair, but he can’t stop his thoughts from circling over what happened, over and over and over again, until the night is all smooth around the edges, all the good stuff rubbed away.
so that’s where robin finds him, wrapped in the navy comforter he’d dragged from his bed with the television glowing on mute. the house is dark and she just lets herself in like she always does.
“i take it the talk didn’t go so well,” her voice is light and steve can tell she’s trying not to add any inflection to the statement, trying hard so it doesn’t sound like a question.
“i don’t know, doesn’t every great love story start with someone storming out after the confession?” steve tries to make it a joke, to make it sound flippant, but his voice comes out flat. robin’s mouth quirks up a little any way and he knows it’s something like a pity laugh, but it does soothe the stabbing pain in his chest just a little.
“you wanna talk about it or you wanna let me take you to bed and big spoon the shit out of you?” robin reaches out to run her hand lightly through his hair, just once, before she lets it fall back into her lap. she’s wearing her pajamas, the wide leg of her flannel pants stuffed into her bright yellow rainboots, like she’d left the house in a hurry, couldn’t bother to change or find proper footwear.
steve sighs. “not a whole lot to talk about. i told him it would be kinda cool to maybe… date but he said he already told me he doesn’t really do that. and he’s right. i was just being dumb, i guess.”
“is that how you said it?” there’s a crease between her eyebrows now and she’s got that expression on her face that she always gets when she’s trying to solve a puzzle.
“i mean, not, like, word for word or whatever, but yeah, that’s the general gist of how it went.”
her expression shutters and her jaw sets. “right, well. he doesn’t have to be a super mega asshole about it.”
“he wasn’t,” steve tells her, earnestly. robin is eddie’s friend too and he doesn’t want this whole dumb thing ruining that too. they could all use all the friends they could get at this point, especially ones who get it, whatever it happens to be. “i promise. it was just… my mistake. he did tell me, from the beginning. i just misunderstood.”
robin’s face softens slightly. she reaches her hand out to lock her fingers with his and they sit there in the glow from the tv for a long moment, silent. “let’s go to sleep,” she yawns finally, standing from the couch. “everything will be better in the morning.”
~*~
robin is half wrong, but she’s also half right. things are better in the morning. steve doesn’t feel like his chest is going to cave in at every small wrong move and he doesn’t feel like crying every five seconds after his extensive cry sesh in the shower.
but eddie still isn’t there.
~*~
it’s been weeks since steve has seen eddie. steve’s not stupid. he’s aware that eddie’s actively avoiding him, despite the fact that steve has called the trailer multiple times trying to apologize. he’d left a confusingly vague message with wayne, one he’s sure had made no sense if it was even relayed to eddie at all. picking the kids up from hellfire at the wheelers is a newly torturous experience with the kids now waiting for him on the curb awkwardly instead of making steve wait an extra fifteen to twenty minutes on the wheeler’s gross plaid couch in their basement that perpetually smells like corn chips. everyone seems to be clearly aware that something is up. he’s sure he sees sympathy in mrs. wheeler’s eyes when she waves to him from their front door, thanking him for driving the kids home.
steve’s not exactly sure where it all went wrong. he knows now that he’d blindsided eddie; it was more than apparent now that eddie hadn’t even thought about what he was doing or how steve was feeling. steve spent hours thinking about eddie every day and it was clear now that that was not reciprocated. which is fine, he guesses, but he had thought he and eddie were friends first. they’d saved the world together after all. that tended to bond people forever, he’d assumed, just simply based on his relationships with robin and dustin and even nancy. he hadn’t really accounted for losing eddie completely. but steve was clearly fucking clueless when it came to eddie munson, so maybe he’d actually been wrong about everything all along.
he ping pongs back and forth between feelings of self-pity mixed with self flagellation and feelings of intense, white-hot anger at eddie. one minute, he’s sure this is all his fault, that he really is the dumbest person on planet earth and he definitely deserves to have people leave him constantly when he’s so fucking stupid all the time, can’t even keep his stupid fucking mouth shut and his stupid ugly feelings to himself for one time in his stupid fucking life. the next, he starts to blame eddie for what happened instead, blames him for not understanding steve at all. it’s eddie’s fault for not seeing what was right in front of his stupid fucking face. but after a couple of minutes of that, he’s back to being certain it really was his fault after all.
so after almost a month of no returned phone calls, no surprise visits at work just to say “hey” because eddie couldn’t sit around all day waiting for steve to get off his shift, no casual touches as they chat while eddie packs up his dnd gear, steve finally takes the massive fucking hint for what it is and stops calling. he begs jonathan to pick the kids up from hellfire, lying about a new shift schedule at work. he refuses to drive the kids anywhere that eddie might potentially be, even when the kids insist eddie really won’t be there. he’s trying so hard to convince himself that actually he’s the one avoiding eddie and not the other way around. he’s barely even hanging out with robin anymore, besides work. she seems to get that he needs time alone right now though. steve’s never been more grateful for a platonic soul mate.
but after this long, agonizing month of constantly rearranging his own life to help someone else avoid him, steve’s exhausted. he’s been having more nightmares than usual, ones where the people he loves all take turns dying in his arms. it’s a wednesday when he finally has the night off and he decides to treat himself with sixteen candles and a pizza. he orders his pie and fifteen minutes later he’s pulling his wallet from his pocket before answering the knock on the door.
“what do i owe you?” he asks after the door swings open. he’s got his eyes on his wallet in his hands, fingers moving over the bills folded together.
“oh, um,” a familiar voice stutters. steve’s eyes snap up. “i—“
steve feels like he can’t get any air for a minute. eddie’s just standing on his front step, staring.
steve’s throat feels dry. he has to swallow a few times before he can get any words out, but eddie beats him to it anyway.
“can we, uh. talk?” eddie looks nervous, fiddling with the rings on his fingers. steve steps out of the way, silently letting eddie pass him on his way into the house. the door swings shut and it’s the loudest sound steve’s ever heard in his life.
they stand in the small foyer with its huge ceilings and steve can feel the cold of the tiles through his thin socks. eddie makes no move to enter further into the house, so neither does he. steve shifts on his feet, crossing his arms over his chest, suddenly uncomfortable in the silence of his own home.
“i’m sorry,” steve says quietly, after a long stretch of silence that makes it clear eddie’s not actually about to speak. eddie’s eyes keep flitting around the small space, landing everywhere but steve’s face. eddie shrugs, looking over steve’s shoulder into the kitchen behind him.
“it’s not—“ eddie shakes his head, cutting himself off. steve wants desperately to hear how he’d finish that sentence. almost as desperately as he doesn’t.
“i ruined it.” steve runs his hand through his hair. “i tried calling the trailer… to apologize. left a couple messages with wayne but.” he shrugs.
eddie grunts. steve wishes he knew how to make this better. he can’t tell if the grunt means eddie got his messages or not. he’d thought he was good at deciphering eddie’s noises by now.
“look,” steve says, finally frustrated with the whole thing. “we were kind of friends before we started… hooking up or whatever. i get that you wanted something casual and that i ruined it. i get that i fucked it up and i made you uncomfortable and—i just get it, okay? you didn’t do anything wrong. you were always honest. i was just seeing what i wanted to see and i let myself believe something that wasn’t real. so. i would really like for us to be friends again. i hate this, eddie. it really sucks. i don’t like not seeing you around. i just—this sucks.”
eddie nods, swallowing thickly, but he doesn’t really seem like he’s hearing steve.
“yeah,” eddie finally agrees. “this sucks.”
steve gets the sense that eddie means more than just this whole dumb thing between them, but he’s trying not to be in the business of making assumptions about what eddie means anymore.
“i have a pizza coming,” steve sighs. “if you want to stay?” he can’t help but feel hopeful and he knows this is too much, to invite eddie to stay when they haven’t even really made up yet, but he doesn’t know how to fix this. he’s never been good at this.
eddie glances into the living room and steve’s not entirely sure what he sees or what he imagines, but he watches as eddie swallows again, eyes darting quickly to steve’s face, just once, before he gives his head a small shake. “no, i don’t—i should go. but we’ll see each other, okay, harrington?” and he says it like a question but steve thinks he knows it’s not really a question at all. steve will see eddie any time, anywhere, whenever eddie asks.
steve tries to smile before shuffling toward the door and watching eddie go.
~*~
it’s another ten minutes before his pizza even gets there and when it does, steve’s feeling even more sorry for himself than he has in the last month since he’d asked eddie out. he makes it halfway through the movie and the pizza before he starts to consider calling robin. it’s been a while since they’ve just hung out and that’s been entirely steve’s fault. she hasn’t said anything because she knows steve inside and out, but steve is really missing her right now.
he’s just about ready to pull on his shoes and pick up the phone to tell robin he’s on his way to get her when there’s a knock at the door. half of him is confused, the other half is convinced it must be robin, having sensed his desire for her company. he stands and makes his way to the door, a half smile on his face as he swings it open for the third time tonight.
“look, what happened before is not why i came here, so wait and just let me talk and then you can say whatever you want but if you don’t let me just get this out, i’m never going to say it and i… you deserve to hear it so i need to say it, for real, right now,” eddie’s practically panting as he pushes past steve.
“um okay,” steve tries to get out but eddie glares at him.
“shut up, shut up for real, okay.” eddie crouches down in the foyer of steve’s house, his head in his hands between his knees. his voice comes out a little muffled, but steve can still hear him pretty clearly. “you didn’t ruin anything. you didn’t. really. i ruined it. i ruined a really good thing.”
steve feels like his chest is being hollowed out but he bites his lip, desperate not to interrupt.
eddie groans and steve can see his fingers tense and release in his own hair. “you were so sweet, on the couch. the last time.” he says it like steve could’ve forgotten and steve feels a blush rise on his cheeks. “you… you looked so soft and gooey and hopeful and i—i fucked it up. because back when this whole thing started, it seemed like a miracle that you’d even look at me. like. you’re… you and i’m just me. what the fuck.” eddie laughs almost hysterically. steve feels his fingernails cutting into his own palms with how hard he’s trying to stay still and silent. eddie still hasn’t looked up from where he’s holding himself tight. “and it kept happening and happening and happening and i—i’ve never… i’ve never.”
“oh,” steve can’t help but breathe out in surprise.
eddie shakes his head a little, seems to forget himself and look up and then he’s just staring at steve’s face. he swallows again and steve can see his hands shake. “no, i mean, i’ve… but never… more than once. never all the time.” now that eddie’s looked steve in the eyes, he can’t seem to look away. his eyes look so huge and glassy from where he looks up at steve from his place on the floor. steve feels his heart clench. his fingertips ache. “never like that.” steve nods. “and then you didn’t leave. you didn’t run or pretend it didn’t happen. and you let me pretend it was something it wasn’t, like we weren’t… like it wasn’t… important.” steve’s brows furrow in confusion. “because i was lying. obviously. of course i was. it wasn’t casual. you’d never be casual. not for me.”
“i don’t—“ steve suddenly can’t breathe.
“wait. please.” eddie’s eyes go soft around the edges. “i fucked it up, stevie, because i was lying the whole time. and i thought you were just letting me lie because… i don’t know. i don’t know why, because i know it wasn’t casual for you either. it was all over you. and that was really, really scary.” steve falls to his knees on the foyer tiles, vaguely aware of the dull ache, before sliding closer to where eddie is crouched. he whimpers, just a little, when eddie holds out his palm, presses it to the center of steve’s chest to keep him from getting too close. “hold on, baby, i just. i have to say it, please. gimme a second, i’m just…” eddie gives his head another small shake, as if he’s trying to clear it. “i’m sorry, i guess, is what it really all comes down to. i’m sorry i let you think you weren’t important. i only realized you didn’t know that night on the couch and i… i guess i saw some plausible deniability. a way to walk away without getting, like, totally annihilated. and that’s, you know. my whole issue.” eddie swallows again, hand fisting into the fabric of steve’s shirt. “i was scared. i ran. because… because i love you, stevie. i was falling in love with you this whole time and trying to act like i wasn’t. because i was an idiot. and i couldn’t be the one to break first. but what a stupid, fucked up way to think about it, huh? i love you, man, and you deserve to hear it and feel it and have it, is really what i’m trying to say. i just love you.”
somewhere in all of that, eddie had used his grip on steve’s shirt to pull him in closer so their noses are practically touching. steve can feel the prickle of tears in his own eyes, can feel eddie’s breath on his lips.
“you love me?” even steve can hear how incredulous his own voice sounds.
eddie huffs out a laugh and steve can feel it on his skin. “yeah, dude. of course i do. how could i not?”
“dude,” steve repeats, cause like… really?
“is that all you have to say?” eddie slides his nose along steve’s, nuzzling, skin warm. steve’s eyelids go heavy.
“you left me hanging for, like, a month, bro,” steve tries to joke, but his voice sounds too breathless.
“yeah,” eddie murmurs. “i’m so sorry, baby. can i kiss you?”
and all steve can do is nod.
~*~
the next morning, steve wakes up to soft sunlight filtering in through the blinds he forgot to close last night. he feels hazy, all syrupy and warm, before he bolts upright in his bed. or tries to. because just as he’s moving, he notices the heavy presence on his right arm.
“too early,” eddie groans, shuffling naked under the covers. “turn it off.”
“turn what off? the sun?” steve smiles as he turns to spoon his equally naked body behind eddie. he drops a kiss to eddie’s bare shoulder.
“mmhmm,” eddie hums, and steve can hear the smile in it.
“hey,” steve says, before they both fall back into sleep for a few more minutes. “i love you, too, by the way.”
“oh yeah, by the way?” eddie snorts.
“better than ‘i love you, dude.’”
“oh, you think so?” eddie shifts in steve’s arms until he’s somehow gotten on top of steve, holding steve’s wrists above his head. steve can’t help but thrust his hips upwards in eddie’s direction. “yeah, okay,” eddie concedes, breathless, grinding his own hips downward. “you’re right. whatever you say, beautiful. can’t argue with that. super compelling argument.”
steve has to kiss him just to shut him up.
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vminizzle · 1 year
Text
Under the bed
pairing : college boyfriend!jungkook x f.reader
genre : SMUT, fluffy tones
warnings : mention of biker!jungkook, dry humping, marking, LOVE MAKING, penetration, unprotected sex, praising, creampie, jungkook the cutest boyfriend and yes I’m so obsessed with college boyfriend Jungkook
words count : 2.1k
A/N : Hi lovely people, I hope y’all good. Well, here another mess of mine, I’m gonna be honest - I had this idea last night 💀 I hope you guys won’t be disappointed. I tried my best. My English is not as good as I wish but I’m still working on it. anyways, I hope it won’t flop and you’ll like it :) byeeeee
you can read "under the bed pt.2" (HERE)
FEEDBACKS ARE VERY WELCOMED
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M RATED
"c’mon be quiet" you whisper-yelled at your boyfriend as you help him get up.
"you’re crazy" you pulled him up from the floor. Jungkook decided to show up at your bedroom’s window in the middle of the night, tripping when he try to enter quietly.
"yea crazy about you" he grinned making you sigh.
"are you okay? did you hurt yourself?" you checked on him as he shake his head. "I’m good" he bent down a little to envelope your lips in a sweet kiss "I just missed you" he smiled caressing your cheek.
"I missed you too" you smiled back cupping his face into your hands as he smile widely.
"C’mon gimme your jacket-" you were about to take his jacket when you realize something.
"wait.. how did you come here? Did you come with your bike?! It’s dangerous it’s dark outside" you spoke loudly.
"shhh" he put his finger on your lips "you don’t want to wake your parents".
"where the fuck is your helmet?" You furrowed your eyebrows worried. Jungkook chuckled before patting your head "at Jimin’s".
"I left my bike in his garage” he explained.
You sighed deeply "gosh you’re lucky your best friend is my neighbor".
You walked to your desk chair resting his jacket on it. When you turned around Jungkook was standing just behind you. He took you in his strong arms, your hands flat on his chest as he pull you for a long kiss.
"I’m not kidding when I said I missed you" he whispered as he back you slowly to your bed until the back of your knees touched the edge of it. You let your bodies fell on the mattress, the soft sheets welcoming you.
"you’re so pretty in these pajamas" he teased caressing your sides. "shut up" you laughed slapping his arm earning a bunny smile from your boyfriend.
Jungkook bent down lips caressing the skin of your neck as he leave little wet kisses. His warm hands travelling under your shirt making goosebumps raised after his touch.
“Jungkook” his name leaving your throat as sweet as honey. The man just hummed against your -just found- sweet spot making you moan softly. The noises coming out of you turning him on.
His hands started fumbling with the buttons of your pajama shirt before you both jumped at the knock on your door.
"shit" you panicked.
"y/n? can I come in?" you heard your dad call from the other side. You looked at Jungkook with wide eyes before pushing him off of the bed, making a loud thump as he land on his ass groaning.
"hm.. I.. hide under the bed" you whisper-yelled making your panicked boyfriend nod quickly.
"y/n?" your dad called again "y-yea?" you cleared your voice as you grab the nearest thing on your nightstand to act like you were busy.
You saw light coming from the door as your dad open it slowly peeking inside "are you ok? I heard some noises coming from your room" he examined the room as he enter.
"oh y-yea.. I was just.. just reading. See" you held the book up "I accidentally drop it on the floor".
"oh, you know it’s not good to read in the dark" he approached trying to turn your bedside lamp on.
"no it burns.. burns my eyes.. the light is too bright so .. I use the moonlight" you gulped, your lies getting ridiculous.
He hummed before staring toward the opened window. "you didn’t close it?" He pointed to the window.
fuck.
"no, I was cold- no I mean hot!" you forced a smile.
"oh ok then. don’t sleep too late and close that window before sleeping" he patted your head before turning around to exit your bedroom making you sighed in relief but he suddenly stop in his track.
You opened your eyes widely as he looked at the jacket resting on your desk chair.
I’m dead.
You closed your eyes not knowing what to do.
Should I run away? Should I throw my body by the window?-
"what’s that jacket?" he asked with furrowed eyebrows.
"it’s .. my boyfriend’s" you replied. "Oh the biker? what’s his name again.. Jang… no Jung-"
"It’s Jungkook" you bit back a smile making your dad sigh. "ah yes. Why is it here?" he interrogated.
"when you were at work earlier he came by just to say hi, since he was with Jimin.. the neighbor" you said looking away, not wanting him to realize you’re lying "and he forgot it"
"He came into your bedroom?" he asked a bit louder making you nervously play with your fingers.
"No! No he left it on… on the couch downstairs. So I decided to keep it here so i don’t forget to give it to him when we will see each other again" if he continued with this interrogation you would definitely cry.
He finally hummed after a few seconds "ok then. good night and don’t sleep late" he left the room closing the door behind him.
You let a breath out, all the nervousness evaporating. You got out of your bed rushing to the door locking it before putting your hand over your chest.
"damn that was something" you heard Jungkook said as he reveal himself getting up from the floor.
"I thought It was my last day on earth when he noticed my jacket" he kicked his shoes off before dropping on your bed, sprawling his body over the mattress.
You chuckled approaching him as he sit up "see. I’m not scared of death when it comes to you darling".
You scoffed as he grab your hand pulling you down on him, making you sit on his lap, thighs at each sides of his hips "I love you" he pecked your lips.
"I love you too" he smiled before ruffling your hair.
"so..hmm where were we?" he wiggled his eyebrows teasingly. "just kiss me idiot" you grab his face into your hands pulling him closer to you.
"with pleasure" he said before connecting his lips with yours, kissing you slowly, his hands finding their places on your thighs caressing them softly. His mouth travelled down to your neck, your pulse accelerating as he suck on the smooth skin "Jungkook" you whimpered as your hands travel up to his soft hair.
Jungkook lightly bit on the skin making you pull his hair back. He licked the fresh mark as you unconsciously grind on him, making him hiss, his boner confined into his tight jeans starting feeling uncomfortable.
"I need you" he whispered against your lips before pushing his hips up making you feel his bulge. You cursed as he press you down on him helping you move your hips.
The pressure on your covered clit every-time you grind on him made you feel lightheaded already.
"please take me" you whispered back making Jungkook groan. He switched position, laying you on your back as he hover over you. He didn’t lose time as he unbuttoned your shirt throwing it on the carpeted floor, your short following right after, letting you on your underwear.
"fuck" he captured his bottom lip between his teeth the flesh turning white "you’re so fucking pretty" he caressed your tummy making you feel butterflies in your lower stomach. "I can’t wait to love you darling" he laid a soft kiss on your chest before sitting up on his knees taking his shirt off.
He was so attractive, his body was just a masterpiece. His torso so firm, his tattoos decorating his arm, and his hand running up and down your side. You just wanted him. right now.
He placed his knees on each sides of your waist, as he sat up a bit before taking your hand softly and placed it on his chest. He slid it slowly over his soft skin until it reached his boner.
“This - is because of you” he looked down at you lust fogging his mind.
He got off the bed getting rid of all his remain clothes before coming back to you, his fingers playing with your bra’s straps "Can I?" He asked leaving little wet kisses on your shoulder making you nod eagerly.
His next target was lower. Jungkook kissed his way down, sucking marks on your stomach making you grip his hair. He placed his hands on the waistband of your panties looking up at you waiting for your consent "please take it off" you shyness threw away for tonight.
He finally threw away the last piece of clothing covering you from him. He laid on his stomach between your legs, placing his arm under one of your thigh as he left love bites behind his trail as he get higher to where you needed him the most.
Jungkook’s lips lightly grazed on your glistening ones before you pulled him up to you making him look at you confused "I don’t have enough patience for the foreplay babe" you whined making him laugh.
"As you wish" he pecked your lips "but I have to check if you’re wet enough" he said fingers disappearing between your legs, rubbing your clit gently making you whine. "god you’re dripping" he slid his long fingers over your lower lips "stop teasing idiot" you said louder than you’ve thought.
“Shhh.. you don’t want your dad to come here again. You don’t want him to see his soon-to-be son-in-law having sex with his cute little daughter, do you?" he smirked.
You slapped his arm "stop saying bullshit. Plus, I locked the door".
Jungkook chuckled before spreading your legs making room for him to lay between them. He lowered himself to connect his lips with yours for the umpteenth time.
He ruted foward against your womanhood with a low moan “fuck”. Your essence on the tip of his erection already driving him insane. He teased your entrance, rubbing his cock on you as you whine.
He slapped the head of his cock on your throbbing clit teasingly, making you moan, the sudden action making you jolt.
"ready love?” he asked, one hand sliding down to your thigh to lift and place it over his waist.
"yes please"
Jungkook positioned himself at your entrance before entering you slowly making sure he wasn’t hurting you. “you good?” he asked when he completely bottomed out.
You groaned at the painful yet delicious stretch "fuck yes" you nodded eyes closed. He kissed your forehead "tell me if it hurts or if you want to stop hm" he said.
He started moving in and out of you slowly, picking up the pace when he notice the way you bite you lip, your grip on his bicep tightening.
"you feel so good" he moaned deeply, hair falling over this eyes.
You gripped on his shoulder tightly when he snapped his hips into yours suddenly making you cry out his name. “Jungkook!”.
"darling be quiet" he whispered into your ear biting on your earlobe making your roll your eyes in pleasure.
He couldn’t take his eyes off your face. You looked so pretty under him, forehead covered with little beads of sweat, mouth ajar, eyebrows furrowed.. You were just so beautiful.
He took a firm grip of your thigh, placing it higher on his hip as he thrust into you slowly making sure to enjoy the way your warm walls contracting around him everytime he hit your g-spot.
"right there oh my" you sobbed.
Your boyfriend bit his bottom lip hard as your fingernails were buried deep into the flesh of his scratched back.
"You feel so good, so warm around me” he groaned deeply as he felt you tighten around him.
You threw your head back deep into the pillow as you felt your high coming.
“I’m so near” you moaned loudly making Jungkook put his hand over your mouth.
“I got you baby shhh” his left hand travelling down between your bodies until it reached your bud of nerves. He drew little circles on your clit with his thumb lazily making you arch your back off the mattress.
You closed your eyes shut tight, your sounds of pleasure blocked by his hand. You came hard the pleasure unbearable. The way your walls keep convulsing around your boyfriend made him feel weak as he dropped his head on your chest, his breathing unsteady.
You intertwined your fingers with his as he rode your orgasm. Jungkook didn’t take much time to come inside you, his warm cum filling you up to the brim.
He collapsed on your sweaty body, his head buried into the crook of his neck breathing heavily. You caressed his head, threading your fingers into his black locks making him hummed against your skin.
"I love you y/n" Jungkook lift his face smiling softly, the moonlight showing off his pretty features as you push his hair back from his eyes.
"I love you Jungkook" you bumped his nose making him smile widely before hugging him .
After a few minutes he decided to break the pleasant silence "let’s get you clean up and then cuddle" Jungkook said impatient to just hold you in his arms to sleep.
A/N : aaahhh thank you so much for 300 followers 😭 you guys are amazing! thank you for your support Ily’all!! A part 2 for after Jk spent the night and get woken up by his father-in-law? 👀 have a nice day / night everyone
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rboooks · 10 months
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DC X DP fic: Legal Compensation
Bruce Wayne doesn't know what sick monster would think it is funny to ruin Jason's grave, but when an alert arrives at the cave, he's flying towards the cemetery intending to find out.
And teach them some respect.
Of course, he knows Jason's not in there- not after his son returned with more hate and rage than a person- but it was still his last resting place.
He barely acknowledges Tim and Damian pulling up beside the Batmobile, each on their own bike while Dick, Steph, and Cass fly above him. They all got the alert. None of them are happy.
When they arrive, it's to see a teenager happily whistling as he shovels away layers of dirt. The stranger is in a white and black hoodie, a neon green ghost crossing from the front to the back, and his white hair with glowing green eyes lets them know it's not a human.
Or if it is, then not an average human. Meta, based on how he picks up way more dirt than he should be able to lift with his glowing green shovel.
They also see Jason get there first, his eyes glowing in Pit Rage and .points a gun to the back of the teenager's head. Bruce opens his mouth to shout, Damian manages to throw a ninja star, but they are far too late.
Jason pulls the trigger. A large bang is heard across the cemetery. The teenager drops into the deep hole he is making.
The family can only watch as the Pit Rage disappears from Jason's mind, and horror creeps onto his face as he realizes what he has done. It's too late now, though. The child is dead.
Bruce feels sick to his stomach- and then The teenager stands up, his head reforming in terrible familiar green liquid. The family forms a protective circle around a frozen Jason as the teenager turns around to look at them with Lazarus' green eyes and smiles.
Smiles at Jason with far too bright eyes. "I found you! I didn't realize you already left your grave, but that makes things easier. Jason Peter Todd, yes?"
"Who are you?" Bruce demands, stepping before his second oldest.
The white hair boy's smile becomes wider- if that's possible. "I'm Phantom. I'm working on behalf of the Ghost King."
Damian hisses, "What does the most powerful being in the multiverse want with Todd?"
"Baby Bat?" Dick asks without really asking.
"The Ghost King is the ruler of the Infinite Realms. The place where grandfather harvests the Lazarus Pit."
That's not good.
The teenager laughs. "The very same. He wants me to offer Legal Compensation to Mr. Todd."
"Legal Compensation? For what?" Tim asks this time.
"The glitch. See, Mr.Todd wasn't supposed to die- he was supposed to break the door and crawl to safety while the bomb jammed. At the same time, the Master of Time was preoccupied with another dimension saving the lives of six very important people to the Ghost King from a junk food explosion. Because of that, he was not there to control time correctly, creating a glitch in this universe's time flow. It speeded up certain areas, in your case, the location of the bomb's jam, making it explode earlier than it should have. He corrected it by bringing you back, but you were in a grave by that point. The Master of Time realized the grave injustice this was, so he sent me as legal Compensation."
That.... was a lot.
"How are you legal compensation?" Jason growls.
"Well, those people were just as important to me as the Ghost King. Since you lost your life due to the incident, I will give you my natural life here as a human for you to use." The teenager's form shifts after an ample bright light, and suddenly they are looking at a perfectly black hair blue eye average looking human who smiles happily at them. "Ta-da! So what do you want me to do first, Master Todd?"
"No." Jason hisses, looking angrier than he's ever looked before. Bruce can't say he doesn't feel the same way. "No, the Master of Time does not get to kill me. Go oopsie-daisy and then send me a fucking slave as an apology!"
"Not a slave- more of a- ugh Bulter!" The teenager argues, trying to crawl out of the hole and falling down, into a heap as he oversteps. "Wow, being a full human is going to get some getting use to."
"No!" Jason yells, turns around, and walks away.
"Wait! Wait! Master Todd, wait for me!" The teenager calls desperately, but Jason disappears into the shadows of Gotham without a backward glance. The boy slides into the mudd, voice muffled as he screams.
Steph takes pity on him offering her hand to help him out of the hole. "What's your name, by the way?"
"Phantom." The teenager says with a grateful smile taking the hand and climbing out. He gives the rest of the family an awkward smile "Danny Phantom"
Bruce ends up with another son by the following day. Jason ends up with a restless wanna-be butler who follows him everywhere, trying to serve him. The fact he cure his Pit Madness didn't seem to even register with him.
Jason wants Danny to leave him alone and quit the "I must spend the rest of my human life providing for your every whim". It's getting creepy.
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pisupsala · 1 month
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Hitchin' a ride
Or two times you told John Egan no, and the one time you said yes.
Part 1 of Are You Going My Way?
John "Bucky" Egan x female!reader Words: 7k Warnings: mentions of blood, wounds, hospitals
It gets dark early in winter in East Anglia. By the time you leave the ward, it’s pitch dark despite it barely being past dinner time. Huddled in your dark blue wool cape, you trudge along the side of the road, holding a small torch to light your way. There’s a cold, biting wind tonight, and it feels like it’s going through every layer you’re wearing, straight through your bones. Breath shuddering, you pick up your pace, the gravel barrier between the road and the grass crunching under your standard-issue brown boots. The faster you get back to the nurse’s barracks, the faster you’re out of this wind and soaking your sore feet and cold toes.
Thorpe Abbots sprawls strangely, but you usually don’t mind. The quiet walk at the end of the long shifts in the operating room, rounds on the intensive care ward, cleaning, and inventory is your moment of solace. A moment where you can finally let the smile fall off your face, where you can grit out the curses you've bitten back all day, the crinkle in time when you are allowing the tears to well up and drip down your face silently.
There is no textbook or training to prepare you for the horrific reality. Torn flesh, burns, and the blood. The fear and agony. The pained screaming. The blind panic.
You have never felt more that you are where you need to be, yet you are so completely and utterly powerless.
A light catches your eye, reflecting on the trees around you in a ghostly flicker. Glancing over your shoulder, the light floats through the darkness, gliding towards you. The soft ding of a bicycle bell pulls you out of your reverie. Turning fully, the light casting off your torch finally illuminates the figure on the bicycle. 
“Major Egan,” You greet him, trying to keep the surprise out of your voice. He has no reason to be here. There’s nothing down this road but the building with the nurses’ quarters. It’s not the first time you’ve encountered Major Egan somewhere he has no reason to be. But you, as an army nurse and merely a first lieutenant, are not about to question him on that.
“You shouldn’t be walking here alone at night, lieutenant,” He tells you, stopping next to you. You stop, too, taking a good look at him—because why wouldn’t you—as he gets off his bike. 
A little too friendly, a little too forward. His bright, sharp blue eyes are contrasted by luscious dark curls and that devilish smile. Tall, broad-shouldered, and moving with a confident grace, he is hard to miss. And if you were to somehow overlook him in a crowd, he commands, demands, attention. There is something dangerously magnetic about him, something electric.
You best keep your distance.
“Don’t worry about me, please, Major,” You reply politely. “It’s not late, and I know the way,” 
“Are you done for today?” He asks conversationally, smiling, his eyes crinkling happily. The tips of his ears are red from the cold. In the middle of a quiet road, in the dark, in freezing temperatures, it’s an odd place for polite conversation.
“Yes, I’m heading back to my quarters,” You smile. “Long day,” You add, hoping to cut the conversation short, desperately trying to suppress the full body shiver from the cold. You notice with some envy that Major Egan seems wonderfully unbothered by the biting wind in his sheepskin jacket. You nod at him, turning back in the direction you had been heading, gingerly taking a step. Hopefully, he gets the hint.
“I could give you a ride,” 
You stop dead in your tracks, looking back at him wide-eyed. 
“I’m heading in the same direction, so you’d get there quicker,” He beams at you with that brilliant smile, patting the carrier at the back of the bike. Instinctively, you start shaking your head, trying to keep yourself from vocalizing your thoughts.
You’d be out of the wind. You’d be in the warm faster. You’d have to get close to Major Egan and hold on to him. You bet that that sheepskin jacket is nice and warm. You bet Major Egan is nice and warm.
“Isn’t that the bike you almost lost an eye for?” Your sense of self-preservation is stronger, has to be stronger, than any magnetic force or joking flirtation from Major John Egan.
“Almost?” He seems surprised you brought it up but recovers quickly. “I remember it differently — it was a bullseye, not my eye,” 
He looks at you like he’s expecting you to laugh with him, but you just blink in disbelief. That’s an awful joke. For a mere second, in the reflected light of your torch, you see his smile falter—he’s smart; he knew that was a dud. You purse your lips.
“I suppose I like my rides without stories of near-eye trauma attached,” You muse. It’s such a flimsy excuse.  
“Do you think it’s bad luck?” It’s a chillingly honest question, and all cheer has suddenly disappeared from his voice. You pause to think. It hadn’t really occurred to you that Major Egan might be a particularly superstitious man; somehow, he didn’t seem the type. But in these times, superstition creeps up on even the most staunch rationalists.
“Luck has nothing to do with it, Major,” you finally admit, eyeing him carefully. He frowns, suddenly unsure of the gravity of the conversation through his own too-candid question. “I would just hate to encourage any of that sort of behavior,” You add lightly.
“So, you would have accepted if I had a different bike?” He sounds on the precipice of hopeful, but the laughter in his voice is evident again. He changes so quickly and bounces back from everything in a mere second — it’s all a joke, after all. He’ll do you a favor and then jokingly ask for a kiss. And then maybe another. And then he’ll move on to whatever or whoever catches his eye next. 
You wrinkle your nose. No. You’re not interested, you repeat to yourself. If you were, you might as well have stayed at home and practiced your good graces at dinner parties. You joined the Army Nurse Corps because you wanted to do something, mean something.
“I’m going now,” You clench your jaw to stop your teeth from clattering. “Good night, Major Egan,”
“Suit yourself, lieutenant,” He grins, undeterred, as he watches you turn on your heel, huddling into yourself to protect yourself from the wind. Truthfully, Bucky wasn’t expecting that you would accept his offer. If anything, he wanted to see how you’d react: your replies are always calm and composed, so very proper, but you have a bad poker face. From the way you scrunch up your nose in annoyance to how the corner of your mouth sometimes threatens to pull into a smile at his jokes. And Bucky notices that your gaze lingers just slightly longer than would be polite, although nothing coming out of your mouth would corroborate that. It’s adorable. It’s intriguing. And he knows you won’t make it easy on him.
But that’s not why he keeps thinking about you. That’s not why he goes out of his way to look for you.
You suddenly took root in his thoughts only a few weeks back. It had been a bad day. Worse than Bucky had seen in a while, there had been many bad days lately. 
Being Air Exec has some perks, mostly that other people don’t really question why he’s wandering the halls of the infirmary at the dead of night. In the hallway, set up on provisional cots, medics are asleep, still fully dressed. They just collapsed on the first soft spot the moment they could. He can hardly blame them.
His footsteps echo through the dark rooms. The wounded men in the beds are fast asleep — it’s eerily quiet except for the occasional snore. 
He’s not sure why he’s here. Maybe it’s to assuage some of the guilt he’s feeling — he’s fine after all. He didn’t go up with them, after all. Maybe because he needs to see the pain with his own eyes, afraid that he’ll forget.
The doctor on duty is doing rounds, his desk empty, when Bucky slips through the swinging double doors to where the heaviest casualties are put up. The air in the room feels different—heavier. It’s not quiet—labored breathing, raspy, sometimes gurgling, groans of pain in artificial sleep. He really shouldn’t be here. 
All beds are full.
It’s been a really bad day.
It’s there that he notices you first: sitting on the floor, arms crossed and tucked up against yourself, head leaning against the wall, and legs bent at an uncomfortable angle. In the first second, he thinks someone fell out of their bed. But as Bucky gets closer, he recognizes you — the seersucker cotton dress, the matching cap now crumpled and skewed on your head, and the clearly scuffed and dirty white oxfords. You are one of the OR nurses.
He’s seen you around, just in passing. In chaos between casualties, just from the corner of his eye. Sometimes, you showed up at dances or parties, and Bucky had noticed your cute laugh from across the room, the way your entire face lit up when you smiled. And he knows he’s not the only one who has noticed the delightful sway of your hips as you walk, evident even through your dress uniform. But you made damn sure to make yourself unavailable by sticking with your girlfriends. He’s never seen you accept a drink or dance with someone.
Your mouth is slightly open as you breathe deeply, your form cast in the pale moonlight peeking through the sides of the blinds. Bucky wouldn’t let a woman sleep on the floor in normal circumstances, but in this case, waking you up would be cruel — there isn’t a bed free in the whole hospital. And even bad sleep is better than no sleep.
He moves past you carefully, mentally putting names to all the men here. Those that made it. That’s a good thing, right? They made it. Bucky doesn’t recognize the figure moaning in pain louder and louder, hands desperately grasping at the neatly tucked-in covers —  his entire head is covered with a thick layer of white bandages, not even leaving a slit for his eyes, just a small opening for his mouth. He hesitates before his curiosity takes over and moves by the side of the bed to look closer. It’s a good thing, right?
He should do something to help him.
Bucky is so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice you brushing past him. He almost jumps out of his skin when your torch suddenly clicks on at the foot of the bed. You are bleary-eyed, blinking rapidly as your eyes fly over the patient chart. 
“He is due for a new round of pain medication,” You state softly, voice still thick with sleep, before looking up at Bucky. “Major,” is all you say in acknowledgment of him.
“Nurse—lieutenant,” He mumbles in reply, increasingly on edge from the patient’s distress. “What are you—” Before he can start running his mouth in confused ramble, you trust the torch at him.
“Hold this, please, Major,” Your voice is barely above a whisper, yet it cuts through the noises easily in its steadiness and calmness. The small torch is now in his hand, your fingers brushing over his palm unintentionally as you move through the dark. It’s like a small spark burned the spot where your fingertip touches his skin. “Up, please,”
Bucky complies, shining the light from a high angle as you prepare a syringe. You look exhausted, but nothing in your movement betrays that. Clinical, precise, and so calm. He watches you speak softly to your patient, your free hand wrapped loosely around his wrist, a syringe poised in the other. But the patient is struggling harder, too panicked, and in too much pain. 
It happens in a split second.
The patient sits up so quickly that Bucky almost stumbles back in surprise. The patient now has an iron grip on your lower arm, white knuckles, moving in a blind frenzy, pulling you clean off your feet, half over the bed. You yelp in as much surprise as in pain as your knee collides with the metal bed frame. Your face is contorted in pain as you struggle back, trying to regain your footing. 
“It’s okay, I’m here to help you,” You keep repeating patiently. Never let them know you are scared: they can’t calm down if you are not in control.
Your voice doesn’t waver one bit. Bucky clenches the small torch between his teeth, trying to free your arm from the patient’s grip. 
“N- no” You breathe, clearly in pain now. “Please, Major, just help me to hold him still,” 
You are still holding the syringe, poised to strike. Grabbing the patient by the shoulder and forcing him back against the pillow. In the struggle, the torch falls from his mouth. It clatters on the tile floor and rolls away. He is so focused on his task that it’s almost by surprise when the struggle ends within a few seconds, and the patient drifts off again. He never saw you give the injection.
You both stand there, breathing heavily. Bucky bends down to retrieve the torch from the floor. It’s still shining, although it flickers uncertainly with every move. When he straightens back up, he catches you looking at your arm, the brown sleeve of your vest rolled up messily. When you realize he’s looking at you, you pull the sleeve back down and busy yourself tucking the patient back in. But Bucky has seen the angry red fingerprints imprinted on your forearm.
“Thank you, Major Egan,” Not a quiver in your tone, although your breathing has barely slowed down. “It’s probably best you go now,” 
“Are you alright?” He cannot help but ask, gaze traveling to your arm. He can’t help but notice you must have been issued a vest a size up, as the sleeves are a bit too long on you. It’s adorable.
“Please don’t worry about me,” You reply, smiling, but it’s clearly a deflection. The corners of your mouth are quirked up, but your eyes just spell tired. “You should try to get some rest, Major. The sun will be up soon,”
There is a certain sense of irony in you telling him that. At least he has a bed to go to, you think wryly. You start walking towards the ward exit, signaling he should follow you. 
“Will you be okay here by yourself, lieutenant?” It’s not his place to worry about you, but you are just… you. And these men are in pain, scared, and -
“The doctor will be back from his rounds soon,” Your soft voice pulls Bucky from his thoughts. You stand at the door, holding it open for him. If he hadn’t just seen that chaos happen, he would have never guessed by your demeanor anything happened.  As he passes you, you salute him. He salutes you back, gazing over to you. The tips of your fingers are shaking. 
The thought is sudden and overwhelming: he wants to lace his fingers through yours, pull you against him, and hold you until you stop shaking.
“Goodnight, Major,” You whisper with a pointed look. You want him out of here so you can check on your throbbing knee and painful arm away from his prying eyes.
“Goodnight, lieutenant,” He replies, tearing his eyes away from you.
***
In early spring, it seems like the rain never stops, from semi-permanent drizzle to raindrops rhythmically ticking against the window pane to the torrential downpour you find yourself in now. The drab-colored trench coat is putting up a valiant fight to keep you dry.
You’re holding your purse over your head but to no avail. The cold trickle of water from your sodden hair travels down your spine. You’re trailing behind your friends, who are making good time through the storm. Water sloshes in your left boot, making it heavy, the drenched woolen sock rubbing painfully against your foot. 
Then you hear it. The all too-happy ding of a bicycle bell. 
You try to walk faster, gritting your teeth, but Major Egan has caught up with you in just seconds. You don’t stop to greet him, just glancing over at him with narrowed eyes. Gracefully, he jumps off the bike, matching your pace by foot easily. His dark curls are plastered to his forehead, his cap sagging under the weight of the water it must have absorbed. He shouldn’t look this good, sopping wet, especially when you feel so wretched.
“Lieutenant, I could get you where you need to be a whole lot quicker,” he calls out.
“No, thank you, Major,” Your tone is polite, but you keep walking, falling behind further and further from your friends as your left boot squelches with every step. You know he noticed. 
“You’re really not going to take me up on the offer? Even in this downpour?” 
“Most drops miss,” You can’t keep the scowl off your face as you march on. 
“You are so unbelievably stubborn,” He laughs. You don’t think you’re stubborn; you just don’t like feeling like your hand is being forced. 
“I don’t need you to save me, Major.” You tell him evenly, finally stopping and turning to him. You know your friends noticed you stopping but probably figured they were doing you a favor and kept going. 
Bucky regards you carefully — you look miserable. The curl has long been rained out of your hair; rivulets of water running down your face, dripping on the collar of your trench coat. The steep downturn of the corners of your mouth pretty much just seals the deal. But despite all the evidence, you would never admit you’re anything but fine. 
“Save you?” He sounds incredulous. Like the thought never even crossed his mind. 
You bite your lip — you might have said too much. But you are afraid that he might ask you for something if you owe Major Egan a favor. He will ask you for something. And you won’t be strong enough to tell him no maybe because you want him to ask. Who wouldn’t?
You’ve seen him look at you from across the room before, and when you scrape together the courage to meet his gaze, it’s like electricity. Short, intense, and almost painful. And then he looks away, his attention turning so fleetingly. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.
“Forget it,” You mumble, clearly embarrassed. Closing your eyes for a moment and taking a deep breath, you wish nothing about this moment was happening right now. When you peek through your lashes at Major Egan, you note he looks concerned.
“For what it’s worth,” He clears his throat, not a trace of humor in his voice. “I never considered you to require saving, lieutenant.” 
You keep looking at him sharply, finally shaking your head. “You have a funny way of showing it.” 
There is something deeply absurd about the whole conversation. Just tell him no. Just bid him goodnight and leave. Why are you even entertaining him with your feelings on this? And it’s clearly entertainment to him.
“I’m going to my quarters now, Major,” You state, feeling the need to be polite despite your increasingly impolite feelings about the situation. “And you’re going in the wrong direction,” You add pointedly as you start walking again. It feels like you have an entire puddle in your boot now.
“So what would you prefer, lieutenant? A more classic approach?” That devastatingly handsome grin is back on his face again as he walks beside you. How is that what he took from your last statement? Your shoulders sag when you feel the butterflies in your stomach. “At the next dance, I buy you a drink and sweep you off your feet on the dance floor?” 
“I might be more agreeable when it’s not freezing or raining,” You sigh like it’s paining you to admit it. Maybe he’s imagining it, but Bucky likes to think he saw the shadow of a smile pass over your face as you say it, even though your voice is painfully neutral. 
“Is that a yes?” Again, that hopeful edge. 
“No,” You reply curtly, but you feel bad the moment you say it because you see his smile fall — he’s staring at you somewhere between confusion and growing frustration. It’s making you feel bad. A horrible little selfish part of you wants him to only smile at you. Major Egan could light up a room with that smile — he regularly does. The selfish little monster in you wants to be the reason that he smiles like that. 
“Ask me again at the dance, Major,” You amend carefully.
The way his face breaks out in that broad, beaming smile makes you weak at the knees. 
***
Bucky is on pins and needles tonight. Even Buck, usually so even-tempered, is getting irritated with him. Drumming his fingers on the bar, tapping his foot not to the beat of the music but to blow off some of the anxious energy. People are flittering in and out of the hall, but there is no sign of you yet. He’s going through his whiskey too quickly, and it’s doing very little to calm his anticipation.
After an hour of only half-listening to the conversation going on around him, constantly glancing at his watch, he finally sees the pack of nurses come in. Bucky’s heart drops a little because you aren’t with the group. You’re always with that group. Knocking back the rest of his drink, he resolutely makes his way to the table now occupied by five gossiping nurses. All eyes are on him as he approaches.
“Good evening, ladies,” He smiles, eyes searching the table. All chairs are occupied — clearly, your friends aren’t saving you a seat. A chorus of good evenings and giggles comes in reply.
“How can we help you, Major Egan?” A blonde nurse asks, peering up through her lashes.
“I’m actually looking for my favorite nurse,” He replies easily, holding his smile despite feeling mildly annoyed. When he mentiones your name, another chorus of giggles. 
“I thought I was your favorite nurse,” One of the girls pipes up. The girls burst out laughing.
“She’s on the night shift,” An earnest, young-looking nurse cuts in, pushing up her glasses. Bucky doesn’t really recognize her — she must be quite new. “I asked to switch shifts because I haven’t been to a dance here before.”
“You should have found someone from the afternoon shift,” the blonde nurse sighs in a bored tone. “The poor girl is putting in a double shift now,”
“No one else would switch with me,” The bespectacled nurse defends herself with a small voice.
Bucky should be annoyed. Did you scheme this out on purpose? You run so hot and cold between your lingering looks and thinly veiled barbs. But then again. Of course, you would switch shifts with the new girl out of kindness. You slept on the floor to stay close to those most needed care. Doc sang your praises in the officer’s mess regularly for staying late to finish inventory, covering in emergencies, and keeping the OR running smoothly. Kindly caring for everyone around you.
He should be annoyed. But instead, he feels jealous. It’s a horrible feeling. But you cared more about the new girl than him? Is it really so bad that he wants your kind attention aimed at him? That he wants to be your choice? You wouldn’t even give him a shot. 
It just won’t do. But now, at least, he knows where to find you.
At the end of the dark hall, a faint light. A lone lamp on a lone desk, with a lone nurse sitting at it. You hear him coming, of course. Your bright eyes look straight at him as he emerges from the darkness. You are already getting up out of your chair, ready to greet him, notes and medical textbook forgotten on the desk.
“Good evening, Major Egan,” you greet him, your voice soft. Your gentle tone carries sweetly through the quiet hall. You didn’t expect him to come find you. It feels far too serious, far too earnest. You haven’t seen or spoken to Major Egan for over a week now, and for your own sake, you decide that he hadn’t been serious—that you hadn’t been serious. It was just banter.
Truthfully, you were slightly relieved the new girl asked you to switch shifts. But as you sat at the duty desk by yourself, blankly staring at the pages of your medical textbook, your stomach twisted painfully with regret. 
“Good evening, lieutenant -” you cut him off with a sharp shush, tapping your index finger against your lips. You step a bit closer to him, voice a sweet whisper. “Please keep it down,” 
A beat of silence as you’re both clearly uncomfortable in the strange situation you have suddenly found yourself in.
“How can I help you, Major?” You whisper politely as your eyes nervously, guiltily, dart around the room—anywhere but him. He looks sharp in his dress uniform. He smells nice. He clearly made an effort. And you’re standing here in your day-old hospital uniform. Self-consciously, you try to straighten the standard-issue white and brown stripe wrap-around dress. 
“I came looking for my favorite nurse,” Bucky replies sincerely, eyes boring into yours. 
“Then you must not be looking for me,” The words tumble out before you can stop yourself. Bucky nearly bursts out laughing at the pained look that crosses your face as you clamp your mouth shut. 
“I was waiting for you to show up at the dance,” He says with that same heavy sincerity. His stance is casual, hands in pockets and shoulders relaxed. But the way he fidgets — tapping and shuffling his foot — as he waits for you to reply hints that he is not nearly as calm as he’d like to appear.
“I had to stay,” You reply, still avoiding his gaze. It’s a half-truth. You could have said no. But the new girl seemed to want to go to the dance more badly than you did. It felt unfair. And you had convinced yourself quite thoroughly that Major Egan wouldn’t care or notice anyway.
Another silence falls. Neither quite sure where to go from here.
“How are the boys doing?” Bucky asks conversationally, reaching out to the large doors leading into the intensive care unit. On a whim, you grab his hand before he touches the handle, your fingers gently wrapping over the top of his large hand. He stills, and for a moment, you think he’ll shake your hand off his. But instead, he waits in acceptance.
“It won’t help you,” You whisper. It took you a while to figure out why Major Egan was in the hospital that night. When people spoke of him, they spoke of how much he cared for his men — a heavy burden to bear.
“Help me?” His voice is suddenly loud. He is offended at the notion that he’s doing it for himself and offended that you called him out like that. He opens his mouth again to argue with you.
Startled by the volume, your brain misfires fully, and instead of replying, your free hand reaches out to his face, your index finger landing on his soft lips to silence him. He stares at you wide-eyed. You are sure you look as shocked as he does. You try to gather your thoughts quickly.
“I - I understand,” You implore him in an urgent whisper, finally looking at him. Bucky sees his own sorrow reflected in your eyes. 
Sometimes, you can only wait. There is no next round of medicine; there is no operation that will help. Waiting for the body to do its work can be frustrating and maddeningly slow.
“But there is nothing you can do now, so going in won’t help you or them,” You swallow. Why is your finger still on his lips, and why is he letting you do that? “They need to rest. You need to rest.”
His fingers lace through yours as he steps closer. It’s inappropriate how close he is standing to you. It’s inappropriate how the tips of your fingers caress the seam of his lips. It’s inappropriate how your hand has latched onto his, his thumb drawing lazy circles on the pulse point of your wrist.
“I don’t need rest.” His voice is soft and close. The intimacy of his lips moving against your fingers is intense, each breath setting your nerve endings on fire. He leans into your touch, trailing from the corner of his mouth to his jaw. Finally, you look at him.
“Then what do you need?” Your question comes automatically. Always looking for how to help. Always so kind. He could melt into your soft touch, warm voice, and how you look at him so sweetly.
“I need to know when you’re done here so I can sweep you off your feet,” His eyes meet yours, keenly following your every move. 
You want to take a step back and break the increasingly feverish connection, away from his oddly earnest confession, but Bucky pulls you closer with a small tug on your hand. Your head is swimming; your heart is hammering in your chest. You shouldn’t entertain any of this, but it feels like your heart is pouring out of your mouth.
“My shift ends at 0500,” 
Bucky grins at you—not in a teasing way, but with that infectious broad smile—the one you cannot help but smile back. It gives you butterflies. You’re smiling at him now, beautifully, genuinely. It feels like a victory to Bucky.
“I’ll keep the party going if you promise me the last dance.” His voice is low and inviting; he is reeling you in further with every word.
“Don’t torture everyone on my account, please,” You feebly try to inject some levity into the situation. You know yourself well enough: you are no match for John Egan and his attentions. From sparks across the room, now it’s like you’ve touched the live wire, and the current has a hold on you. That’s why you always avoided him so.  
“Torture? Darling, it’s a party,” He needles you gently, eyes glinting merrily. “Only you would equate that to torture.” 
“Major -,” “Bucky,” He interjects. You blink at him, biting your lip. 
“Bucky, please,” The moment you utter his name, so beguilingly, so breathlessly, he presses your palm against his face fully, his hand covering yours. He needs you closer. The golden buttons of his jacket brush against the front of your dress. His lips press against the soft flesh of your hand as he studies your reaction. The hitch in your breath is embarrassingly loud to your ears. 
“Please, what?” 
“Don’t torment me like this,” It sounds even more pathetic when you say it out loud. And exactly as you’d expect, the admission of your weakness, the slightest chink in your armor, is an in for him. 
“How do I torment you, exactly?” His voice is so warm, so encouraging. 
“You take far too much pleasure in making fun of me, for one,” You try to play it off in a last-ditch attempt. But under his heated gaze, his breath brushing on the sensitive skin of your wrist, you falter. You frown before you utter in a small voice: “It’s not nice how you toy with me, Bucky, because it’s obvious that… that it’s just a joke to you, and your idea of a joke could get me dismissed, and sent home,”
You look down at your shoes, embarrassed. You want to pull away, but Bucky is not allowing you an inch of slack.
“It’s not a joke to me.” He sounds surprised. You look up at him, unable to keep the skepticism off your face. “It wasn’t a joke from that night I saw how calmly you handled that panicked patient, the moment you saluted me with those shaky fingers, and then every time you denied my help, you stubborn, stubborn girl,” His face is so close to yours now; a finger tracing down the side of your neck, down, just along the collar of your dress, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The way your hand rests on his cheek, you could pull him even closer if you wanted to. “I’ve wanted to grab hold of you, wrap you around me-”
Footsteps. You pull back from Bucky with a jerky movement, who mercifully releases you immediately, stumbling back two steps, almost hitting the desk with your legs. It’s strangely cold suddenly without his hands wrapped around yours, without him so close you could feel the warmth radiating off his body. Blood is rushing in your ears. Bucky looks too collected, but to your relief, you spy a faint blush creeping up his neck. 
So it wasn’t just you.
Hands folded, you take another furtive step back behind the desk, making sure there’s a respectable distance between you as the doctor on duty turns the corner. Bucky and the doctor start talking in low voices, but you are not listening. In your mind, you keep returning to his words, trying to put the puzzle pieces together. 
That night on the ward. That was the first time you spoke and saw each other in more than passing. That’s when Bucky suddenly formed this habit of popping in places he had no business of being. Places you happened to frequent. You really hadn’t been vain enough to consider that the common denominator in those situations was you. It had to be a coincidence that he had just turned into a joke. 
“Nurse,” The doctor turns to you, handing you his clipboard. You nearly jump out of your skin, being so lost in thought. “Please update the log,”
“Yes, doctor,” You nod, trying not to look as flustered as you feel. The men start leaving, still talking. 
“Good night, lieutenant,” Bucky turns to you, unable to keep the cocky smile off his face. Before he turns, he winks at you. It makes your knees so weak you nearly collapse back into your chair. Covering your face with your hands, you try to focus, but the smile won’t come off your face.
Seven more hours until your shift ends.
***
It’s a misty summer morning, dew covering every inch. The sun is just breaking through the clouds, and it’s promising to be a beautiful day.
When you leave the infirmary, you blink against the early morning sun. It’s still so early that few people are around. You hesitate. Surely, the party is not still going on. You wouldn’t put it past Bucky to actually do it. Rubbing your eyes and yawning, you’re unsure if you could even stay on your feet long enough for a dance.  
Luckily, you don’t have to make a choice. 
The sound of the bicycle bell makes you smile now. Bucky’s looking remarkably fresh and well-rested. The party clearly didn’t go that far into the night. He dressed for duty, his signature sheepskin jacket hanging open.
“Are you going my way, darling?” 
You purse your lips because you’re fighting to keep the smile off your tired face. You don’t stand a chance. You dart over to him like you are pulled by a magnetic force, the live current arching between you.
Sliding onto the back of the bike, you grab handfuls of the thick sheepskin to steady yourself, trying to find your equilibrium. Bucky’s large, warm hands encircle your wrists and easily pull your hands off his jacket. Instead, he gently nudges you forward by your arms, tucking them under the side of his jacket, wrapping your arms around his waist. The side of your face is resting against his back. You can feel his heartbeat under your palm, resting just under his sternum; you move along with his every breath.
“Ready?” Bucky peers over his shoulder. 
“Hm–mh,” You hum in reply, face buried in the folds of Bucky’s jacket. “Drop me off before the last turn?” You mumble, gazing up at him pleadingly. “Matron will be awake and on the prowl by now,”
“Don’t worry, darling,” His free hand wraps over yours, pressing a kiss on your knuckles. “I’m not going to get you into any trouble,”
“I’m holding you to that,” You yawn, wrapping yourself around him tighter. You’re going to make the most of this moment — the quiet morning, the soft sheepskin, the smell of Bucky’s aftershave. 
You drift in and out of sleep, even though the trip by bike is tortuously short. After almost twenty hours on shift, you should be allowed this comfort. Whining in protest as Bucky starts to unlatch your arms from him, you feel his chuckle as much as you hear it. 
You slide off the back of the bike, ignoring where the metal was jabbing into your backside on the bumpy road, and rub your eyes, trying to get rid of the haze in your vision. A small yelp escapes you as Bucky tugs you against him by the tie at the waist of your wraparound seersucker dress. The bike lays forgotten in the grass by the side of the road. All the tension and anticipation from last night are suddenly back — you feel wide awake again.
Bucky’s fingers are resting lightly against your waist like he is testing the waters, slowly, gently guiding you closer to him until you are inches away from him. Automatically, your hands sneak back up his jacket, running up his sides to the front of his chest. He is so warm against the crisp morning air. 
“Are you going to ask me for a kiss now?” It comes out almost naively as you look up at him. God, you hope he says yes.
“I promised not to get you into trouble,” He teases gently, grinning, inclining his face closer anyway, his lips just ghosting over the corner of your mouth. He is rewarded with a shuddering sigh from you — his grip on your waist tightens, prompting you to close the remaining distance between you. 
“This, of course, is perfectly innocent,” Only you could be looking at him with those big eyes, full of want, your curious fingers roaming over his chest, and still speak so earnestly. Bucky buries his face in the crook of your neck, shaking from laughter. You wrap yourself around him, head buzzing. It’s like you’re short-circuiting, sparks flying with every move, every breath. 
Bucky nips at the sensitive flesh of your neck, hoping to elicit more of those small sounds from you. If it weren’t for the quiet morning, remnants of mist dissolving in the first light, he would have missed the softest moan of his name that falls from your lips. He could do this all day. Just explore every move of your body against his, every way you can say his name, every touch that brings you closer to him. You move in effortless synchronicity with him, purely on instinct. 
“Then it’s trouble you want, darling?” Bucky murmurs, pressing kisses along your jaw.
“It’s only trouble if we get caught,” You reply breathlessly. 
His finger is under your chin, tilting your face up to him, and finally, Bucky’s lips find yours. For a second, it’s just that: his lips pressed softly, almost chastely, against yours. You push yourself up on your tiptoes to get more leverage, wrapping your arm around his neck. Your other hand stays pressed against his chest, fisting his shirt, feeling how his heartbeat speeds up as you open your mouth for him with a sigh. Bucky doesn’t hesitate to deepen the kiss, cupping your face. His other hand is roaming boldly over your back, applying light pressure on your spine so you arch into him, skimming just over the curve of your behind, playfully tugging at the ribbon of your wraparound dress. He knows exactly what he is doing and how to get exactly what he wants from you, and you’re more than eager to please.
Your mouth starts to tentatively explore the column of his neck as he whispers your name longingly, encouraging your little adventure. When your lips touch a particularly sensitive spot right under his ear, Bucky hisses — you can feel his muscles clench. It’s exhilarating; he feels the sparks as much as you do. Bucky doesn’t allow you to bask in your small victory too long, greedily capturing your mouth with his again, wrapping you around him, tucking you against him. His soft touch turns feverish, grasping at your hip. You match in kind, nails grazing the nape of his neck, just along his hairline — anything to keep the tension, the current arching.
You can feel the sunshine on your skin and see it through closed eyes. Breathlessly, you pull away just a fraction — Bucky’s lips are still ghosting over yours. 
“What’s wrong, darling?” He asks so softly you’re unsure if you heard or felt the words against your lips.
���I have to go,” You mumble as you move to stand feet flat on the ground again. It’s like waking up from a dream. Time is getting away from you. You’re not ready to pull away from Bucky yet, wanting to stretch the moment out. You gently fix his collar, running your hands over his front once more, as much in an attempt to straighten out the wrinkles you left on his shirt as to feel him move under your palm again. When he steps away from you, you release a shuddering breath. You feel like you’ve just been hit by lighting. 
“I’ll come find you,” He winks at you, grinning. Bucky presses a kiss to your forehead, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. The gesture feels intimate, more personal, than you could have imagined.
It was everything you feared happening when you said yes to John Egan. It was everything you dreamed it to be. As you watch him leave, you know that you’ll have a damn hard time giving that up. 
“I’ll be waiting.” 
note: this was literally supposed to be a quick 2k words fun meet cute kind of thing, just a quick adventure Morty, but oh god I'm in too deep. forgive me for this detour from Of All The Stars in The Sky, but it was necessary, you understand.
378 notes · View notes
aezuria · 2 months
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*ੈ✎ two boys (one to kiss your neck and one to bring you breakfast)
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note: guys this wasnt supposed to be my first work here but it came to me the easiest 😔😔 song title is bike dream by rostum 😍this isnt like the meaning of the song tho dw
content: leo valdez x reader, jason x reader; dating hcs
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*ੈ LEO VALDEZ
loves affectionately and openly
he'll peck your lips in front of everyone without a care in the world, as if after he's had a taste of your touch, he can't go a second without it (he'd probably make out with you if you let him)
he follows you everywhere, even trying to go with you while you shower (he'll never go inside the actual shower unless you want to)
"leo, as much as i love you, no. not today at least!"
"i'll just sit on the toilet seat, i swear! and i can talk about all my cool inventions!"
(maybe you'll change your mind?)
has to have a hand on you at all times
even a pinky will do for him
he loves holding pinkies actually, he thinks its so cute
will make you pinky promise not to snitch on him when he blurts out a new prank idea in the works
loves overexaggerating gentlemanly acts?? for the sillies
like he'll bow down to a 90 degree angle and swoop an arm out while the other kisses your hand
opens the car door for you like an escort
"for you, milady!" and does a cheeky little wink as he bows
he loves it when you play along like a rich noble from the 1800s
showers you with the metal work he does
he'll make you cute little rings and necklaces if you like jewelry
or metal flowers that'll never wilt
or something more practical, like a switchblade if you like those
either wakes up at 5am or sleeps in until noon there is no in between
or maybe he stays up until 5am because one time you caught him slipping out of bed to finish up the gift he was making you
"leo? what are you doing up?" you rub your eyes sleepily as you catch him at his desk, the lamp you gifted him glowing dimly
he startles and shoves (gently) the scraps of metal you see behind his arm
he grins sheepishly and rests his hand on his fist, positioning himself so you wouldn't see what he was making
"uh.. nothing! just finishing something!" he doesn't lie per se, but he'd rather not tell you the whole truth just yet (he loves how your face lights up when he presents another gift to you)
being the half-asleep mess you are, you didn't notice much
"alright.. just go to sleep soon, okay?" you yawn and turn back around to head back to bed.
"will do!" he whisper-shouts after you and sighs to himself in relief once you leave. close call!
you find a warm blanket preventing you from getting up the next morning, which just happened to be leo, his arms wrapped around your waist as if you were a pillow
a few more hours of sleep can't hurt, right?
*ੈ JASON GRACE
he's a bit shy to love
doesn't really do pda, but he'll hold your hand lotsss
if you guys started dating but didn't announce it, no one would catch on until they see you and jason holding hands (that took a lot of courage on his end btw)
after that he was a bit more open about it
i feel like he's kind of awkward at first
he tried to sneak up behind you one time and hug you but you turned around too soon and accidentally rammed your head into his chin
he tried to play it off because he's too cool to be embarrassed (his face was bright red)
can and will pick you up
it all started when you guys were running from monsters but your leg was injured so you couldn't move that fast and he literally just swooped you up bridal style and RAN
ran like the wind, even (haha guys pls laugh)
literally sprinting even as he carries a whole person like you were nothing
you fell in love (again)
he found out you like it when he does that so he'll do it randomly
"so then i said-" you were cut off with a yelp as jason picked you up off the bed and carried you in his arms, swinging you gently with a smile on his face
you pause in your storytelling, blinking at him as you grow increasingly flustered
he merely nods at you, saying, "keep going, i'm listening."
OH MY GOODNESS
tried to do reps with you after but you kept laughing
acts of service is so him
when you complain about it being too hot, he'll send a cool breeze your way
if you ask him if he did that, he'll play dumb
it was sweltering outside, the summer heat even worse as the both of you hiked up a trail
"gods, it's so hot!" you complained, taking a long swig of your water
jason hummed his agreement, and shortly after you felt a weird breeze out of nowhere
you pause, eyeing the demigod in front of you
"jason?"
"yeah?"
"did you do that?" you prod at his back teasingly, the smile evident in your voice
"i have no idea what you're talking about."
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358 notes · View notes
bitchiswild · 5 months
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Ride
GP Yoo Jimin x F! Reader
Warnings: smut, creampie, racing , and probs other things 🤷‍♀️
Word Count: 6.8k 😟
A/n: A LOT OF PLOT AND A LITTLE SMUT 😭
╭────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╮
The night unveiled the mesmerizing beauty of the city as Karina and I zoomed through its streets. The motorcycle's roar echoed, seemingly announcing our presence to the entire city. Yet, in our youthful spirit, we disregarded it. Karina had injected adventure and excitement into my life, making every moment extraordinary. She's what makes my days and nights awesome, always bringing joy. I gotta thank Aeri for introducing me to Karina, even if we didn't hit it off right away.
•·················•·················•
“Wanna come along?” That’s all she said. Life always seems to dangle something new in front of me. Aeri pitched this idea, and I had no clue what was in store. Mysterious. But I trusted her completely; she’d been hustling and making some cash. It was our little secret. A game where the risk just added spice to the thrill. Kind of sketchy but exhilarating, you get me?
“You sure this is the right way?” I asked cautiously. We were heading down these shady, dimly lit stairs where the lights flickered oh-so-slowly."
"Yeah, I know the way. Been here a few times, no sweat!" she assured me, continuing down the steps.
As we got closer to the door, the music’s volume surged. Stepping inside, the booming bass hit us hard. The place was a riot of colorful lights, but there was this pervasive mix of gasoline and weed smell that wasn't too pleasant.
"Is this your usual weekend scene?" I quizzed Aeri.
"No doubt, I do. I'm here to help Karina gear up for her races," she said.
"Are you finally gonna introduce me to this Karina you're always on about?" I inquired.
"Absolutely! I'll take you to her now. Or would you prefer to check out the place first?" she asked.
"Let's take a look around first," I replied.
Aeri gave me the grand tour of this spot. I soaked it all in, kinda interested in this whole new vibe where everything's a bit of a gamble. It's all about the danger and excitement, you know? I find it pretty intriguing. This place, right before the race starts, it's got a vibe. But I did however, noticed how everyone's eyes are on us.
"Hey, what's with all the staring? Starting to weird me out a bit," I mentioned to Aeri, feeling a tad uncomfortable.
"They all know I'm friends with Karina. She's, well, let's just say she's a big deal around here. They call her the 'Queen' of racing," Aeri explained, and it all clicked for me.
"Can we bail, though? Feeling a bit too conspicuous," I suggested.
"Sure thing! Let's get you introduced to Karina; you two will hit it off, I'm sure!" Aeri exclaimed, ready to make the intro.
Aeri dragged me to this garage, all bright and half-open. She went and knocked on it like a maniac. ‘Karina! I'm here! Did you miss me?!’ Aeri shouted at the top of her lungs.
“Aeri! Keep it down! Get in here already,” the girl I figured was Karina snapped.
Aeri nudged me to step in first. I crouched a bit and walked into the garage. The garage was alive with various colored lights, yet one glaring light outshone the rest. Posters and tools adorned the walls, while a car occupied one side and a motorcycle sat on the other. The girl I presumed to be Karina was busy fixing something on the bike.
“Karina! Meet my bestie Y/n! Y/n, meet Karina!” Aeri introduced us, gesturing between us."
"Hey, Karina, nice to meet you. Aeri's told me loads about you, and don't worry, I won't spill anything that might get you thrown in jail," I said, immediately regretting my choice of words.
"Hi," was all she replied before returning to her work on the bike, leaving me feeling a bit like a fool.
Naturally, I felt offended. I wanted to confront her, but I held back. I hardly knew her and picking a fight with Aeri's friend wasn't the right move. It'd make me a lousy friend.
"Don't stress, Y/n. Karina's just... like that. She's very... monotone, but she's cool. Give her some time to warm up to you. Honestly, I didn't spill that I spilled everything about her illegal racing," Aeri explained with an awkward grin on her face.
“ It's fine it didn't bother me," I lied, though it bothered me more than I let on.
"So, Karina, when's your next race?" Aeri asked.
"In about 30 minutes. You heading out or sticking around here in the garage?" Karina inquired.
"Since this is Y/n's first illegal race, I'll probably stick around, cheering you on alongside her," Aeri nudged me while saying that.
"Alright, let's head out. I'm all set," she said, wrapping up the final touches on her bike.
We all made our way out of the garage, heading toward the main event. Karina revved her bike, riding off towards the street where the race would take place. The way people glanced at us left me feeling intimidated. Despite my smile, fear crept in. This was uncharted territory for me.
"Hey, Karina! What's up! Ready to race?! There's a hefty pot riding on you, lots of folks betting," a guy shouted as he approached us.
"Absolutely, BamBam. I'm always geared up to win some cash," Karina replied with a grin.
I never thought this girl smiled, but here she was, flashing a smile in front of me. It was kinda cute.
"Awesome! Just remember to stay safe, can't afford to lose our top racer, aka our 'Queen'," The guy I now know as BamBam added.
"Who's that guy? Her boyfriend?" I asked Aeri in a hushed tone.
Aeri stifled a laugh. "Nah, not her boyfriend. That's her childhood friend. They grew up together, got into street racing, and he's sort of her manager. He always bets on her because he knows she'll win. Also, Karina's gay and has a dick," Aeri explained frankly.
The last sentence caught me off guard and I took a double take at Aeri.
“She has a dick??,” I blurted out in surprise.
"Yeah, she was born with it. Why, wanna hop on it?" Aeri quipped, giving me a smirk.
I was flabbergasted! “What? No way!" I exclaimed.
"Sure, just saying, you're not the only one. Lots of other girls here do too," she casually replied.
"Alright, alright, let's stop talking about her dick," I said, eager to change the subject.
"Stop talking about my what?" Karina chimed in, joining our conversation.
I was horrified. If she overheard our discussion, I'd be mortified.
"Your bike," Aeri quickly interjected, coming to my rescue. "Y/n here was just saying how much she liked it but wanted to stop gushing over your bike."
"Thanks," Karina replied, giving me a stare that made me cough in awkwardness. Why did I suddenly feel so awkward? I needed a shot, maybe ten.
"Anyway, I came to tell you guys that the race is starting soon, so get to your spots. And remember, don't accept drinks from strangers. Have the bartender made you the drink, alright?" Karina instructed us.
Can we grab a drink, Aeri? I seriously need one after that almost-embarrassment," I admitted, fanning myself to emphasize the point.
"Sure thing," Aeri replied, leading me towards the bar.
Once we had our drinks, we headed towards the restricted area where only people acquainted with Karina were allowed. There was a large TV screen displaying Karina, geared up with her helmet on, ready for the race. Her eyes reflected unwavering determination, making me equally certain she'd emerge victorious.
The audio from the scene was clear, capturing a guy beside Karina yelling that she was going to lose. Karina, unfazed, remained focused, displaying even greater determination. A girl emerged onto the street, holding a red flag. Raising her arm, she brought it down swiftly, marking the start of the race.
The race unfolded rapidly. Kai, the guy I just learned the name of, initially took the lead, but as they reached a sharp turn, Karina surged past him. Watching her on the screen, it was evident—she had a natural talent for this. Her movements on the bike were graceful, navigating every turn effortlessly. I finally understood why people bet on her. Yet, watching her gave me a mix of sensations, tingling feelings that I couldn't quite decipher—was it anxiety or something else?
As they approached the finish line, it was a dead heat. Anxiety crept up on me, evident in my shaking leg. I desperately hoped for Karina's victory. Beside me, Aeri seemed absolutely chilled, not a speck of doubt in her eyes. I couldn't help but wonder why she was so composed. "She knows something," I muttered to myself, suspecting that Aeri had an inside track on this.
Right after that thought, Aeri did the exact thing I suspected she knew about. With a simple press of a button, Karina's speed surged, propelling her faster than before, and she breezed across the finish line.
When Karina hit that button, everyone was stunned by the speed she picked up. But as soon as she crossed that finish line, the crowd erupted in cheers. Aeri and I jumped to our feet, cheering, hugging, and bouncing around in joy. Karina had not only won the race but also scored a substantial amount of prize money. BamBam, having won all the bets he placed, was also celebrating his success.
After breaking on her bike and removing her helmet, Karina was engulfed by a swarm of well-wishers. Aeri and I maneuvered through the crowd to reach her. Aeri led the way, offering her congratulations with a pat on the back, while I stood there beaming at her. Our eyes met, and she returned a small grin. For me, that was enough. Her eyes spoke volumes, brimming with excitement and joy.
As things settled, Karina gathered her winnings, and we trailed back to the garage together.
"That was one of your finest races in a while!" Aeri praised.
"Thank you. I really appreciate you guys being there, cheering me on," Karina replied, a grateful expression on her face.
"So, when's the next race?" Aeri inquired.
"In two weeks. I need to get some more parts for my bike, upgrade it, and also visit my mom to give her some money," Karina informed us.
"Speaking of your mom, how's she doing?" Aeri inquired.
"She's still working, despite me telling her to retire. That woman is just too stubborn," Karina replied, shaking her head.
"Just like you," Aeri teased with a smirk.
"Hey! I have my reasons, alright?" Karina retorted with a slight glare.
Before Aeri could reply, her phone rang. 'I'll be right back,' she said before leaving Karina and me alone. 'And now there are two,' I murmured to myself.
"So, Karina, you did an awesome job out there! I was really impressed by how you clutch in the end. I was so anxious the whole time, rooting for you, and I just wanted you to win and I was so worried—" I started to ramble.
"Y/n!" Karina exclaimed, gripping my shoulders and staring at me. "Calm down, you're rambling," she urged, trying to rein in my chatter.
Her sudden touch caught me off guard, bringing an unexpected closeness that felt like we were almost within kissing distance. I shook my head, trying to dispel those thoughts. "Sorry... that happens when I feel awkward or anxious," I explained.
She withdrew her hands and kept staring at me. "It's fine, just take a moment. If you need to ease your anxiety, try dunking your head in ice-cold water. That might help," Karina suggested calmly.
"I'll keep that in mind for next time," I replied.
Karina returned to her bike, resuming work by taking parts off, fetching tools and components from her workbench, and moving back and forth between them. Lost in my thoughts, I scanned the garage, wondering where Aeri had vanished to.
"You know, you can sit, right?" Karina's voice startled me out of my reverie. I glanced at her, finding her staring at me and pointing to the chair nearby.
“Oh right, sorry,”I sheepishly grinned in response, taking the hint and finally sitting down. I couldn't help but keep glancing around the garage, occasionally stealing quick looks at Karina. The silence became unbearable, prompting me to break it.
"Do you need any help?" I offered, hoping to engage in conversation.
"Nope," she replied bluntly.
"Can I help you, though? I can't stand this silence, and I want to do something," I persisted.
"You can sit and be quiet," she repeated, smirking as she glanced up.
I remained silent, pursing my lips and continuing to observe her.
"Please, let me help!" I pleaded, growing desperate to do something.
"Fine, come here," she finally relented. I eagerly approached her, thrilled to lend a hand.
"I'm giving you a very big responsibility, okay? Now, hold the flashlight and don't move," Karina instructed, handing me the flashlight.
I felt disappointed; holding the flashlight was something my dad always made me do, and I often got yelled at for doing it wrong. Nevertheless, I was doing something, and for the next 20 minutes, I held onto it diligently. Finally, Aeri returned from her phone call.
"What the hell?! What took so long?" I exclaimed at her, still clutching the flashlight.
"Y/n, hold the flashlight correctly!" Karina interjected. "Oops, sorry," I apologized and adjusted my grip to hold it correctly.
"Sorry I took so long; it was an important call I can't go into details about right now, but I promise it's nothing bad," Aeri explained.
"Okay, I hope everything's alright," I replied.
"Everything's good. Are you ready to leave? Because I am," Aeri asked.
"Yeah, I'm ready," I confirmed, turning off the flashlight and handing it back to Karina.
"Alright, let's go. Bye, Karina! See you soon!" Aeri called out as she exited the garage.
"Bye, Karina, till then," I called out. As I began to duck my head under the garage door, I caught her saying goodbye.
"Bye, Y/n," I heard Karina's voice say as she continued tinkering with her bike.
"Alright, let's head back to our dorm. Don't worry, you'll be back; this is just the beginning," Aeri reassured me as we made our way back toward the stairs we came from.
•·················•·················•
It's the following day, and a strong urge pulls me to return to the garage. I'm not sure why I feel this way, but the desire is there. After getting ready, I head towards Aeri’s room to check if she's around, but her neatly made bed indicates she's probably left for class.
Deciding to go on my own, I recall the location and remember that Aeri had sent me the address. Gathering my belongings, I leave the room and start walking towards the destination.
I'm in the stairwell, making my way down toward the familiar door Aeri had led me through. As I approach, I notice the music still blaring, but today, the neon blue lights replace yesterday's vibrant colors. I glance around before heading toward Karina’s garage.
Suddenly, a random guy yells, "Hey, Beautiful! Come over here and sit on my lap!" I choose to ignore him and keep walking.
"Come on, I know you heard me! Come here!" he yells out again, this time patting his lap in an insistent and uncomfortable manner.
"No thanks, I'm good," I firmly replied, trying to maintain my course toward Karina’s garage.
But, as expected, the guy persists and ends up blocking my way. I look up at him, my expression blank, while he grins down at me. "Can I help you?" I retort, my arms crossed and an attitude evident in my tone.
"Yea, I asked you to do something but you didn't," the musty guy states.
"Yea, I know," I respond bluntly.
"You know... I don't take no for an answer," he declares, his tone suggesting an intent to push the issue.
"And? I do not care," I reiterated, my arms remaining crossed.
He made a move to reach for my arm, but thankfully, a familiar voice intervened. It was Karina. I felt a surge of relief; I was beginning to get anxious at the thought of him grabbing me.
"Nate, what are you doing?" Karina's voice addressed him directly.
"Karina! Hey! I was just trying to get this beautiful lady to sit on my lap and do other things if you know what I mean," Nate replied with a suggestive wink, trying to play it off.
Karina's expression turned serious. "Actually, she’s with me, and she is off-limits. I do not want you anywhere near her," Karina asserted firmly, setting a clear boundary.
"How come? I'm just having some fun," Nate retorted with a smirk, clearly not taking Karina's instructions seriously.
"I don't care. She’s off-limits. Now leave!" Karina's tone grew firmer, her frustration evident.
"Yea, sure, see you around, beautiful," Nate said, smirking as he began to walk away.
Karina gripped my hand firmly, concern evident in her eyes. "Are you okay? What are you doing here by yourself? Do you realize that if I wasn’t here, things could've gone bad? You can’t be here without me or Aeri, got it?" She guided me towards her garage, still holding my hand.
"I know. I'm sorry. I promise not to come here without you or Aeri," I assured her.
"You didn't answer my question. Why are you here?" She pressed for an explanation.
"I just wanted to continue helping you with your bike. Also, I had no class today, so I decided to come here," I answered honestly.
"You came all this way just to help me with my bike?" she asked incredulously.
"Yeah, why not?" I replied casually.
Karina chuckled in disbelief. "Okay, fine, you can help. Let's get started," she agreed.
And so, that's what we did. I began coming by every other day or whenever I had free time to assist her in preparing her bike for the upcoming race. Over time, we started enjoying each other's company, engaging in light conversation. However, we hadn't broached certain topics—things I wanted to know, like why she started street racing. I chose to keep those questions to myself, saving them for another day.
One such day, I had no class and was free. I had Karina’s number now, so I texted her beforehand that I was heading to the garage. She mentioned she'd meet me at the door, and true to her word, that's where she was. We walked together towards the garage, and she let me enter first before following. "So, what are we working on today?" I inquired.
"Nothing, because we are finished!" she announced with a grin, a familiar expression that I had come to adore over the past two weeks. That grin, when directed at me, felt unlike any other.
"Really? You finished it?" I asked in amazement.
"No, we finished it," she corrected, her grin turning into a warm smile.
I mirrored her smile. "Does that mean we get to go on a test drive?" I was thrilled at the prospect of riding the bike after investing so much effort into it.
"Of course! Here, let me get you a helmet," she offered, fetching one for me. She returned, placing the helmet on me. The visor was closed, but a simple click opened it, and suddenly, Karina was gazing into my eyes.
"There you are, hi!" she greeted with a grin.
"Hi back," I replied, returning her greeting. She continued to gaze at me for a moment before turning to retrieve her own helmet, securing it in place. Walking over to her bike, she mounted it first, signaling for me to climb on behind her.
Once I was on, I instinctively held onto the sides of the bike, but Karina guided my arms around her stomach, encouraging me to wrap them securely. I held on tightly, feeling the firmness of her toned stomach, grateful that she couldn't see my blushing face.
"Are you ready?" she asked.
"Of course," I replied, trying to mask any hint of nervousness in my voice.
She ignited the engine, and it roared thunderously, the sound reverberating throughout the garage. As she opened the garage door, the engine revved, and we surged out. The speed we gained made me hold onto Karina even tighter, a sudden fear gripping me.
In my helmet, I heard her voice. "You okay back there?" she inquired.
"Wait, how am I hearing you so clearly?" I asked, puzzled.
"There's Bluetooth connected to the helmets," she explained.
"Ah, that’s nice. And to answer your question, yes, I am okay, just a bit scared at the speed we're going," I confessed.
"Do you trust me?" she asked.
"Yes," I replied without hesitation.
"Then everything will be okay," she assured me, continuing to ride out of the tunnels and onto the main road.
As we navigated through the city, Karina's voice came through the helmets. "I want to take you somewhere, will you let me?" she asked.
Her proposal made my heart melt; it was a simple yet profound request. "Yes, take me wherever you want to go," I responded.
"Okay, thank you," she replied, steering toward her chosen destination.
We ascended a hill with a breathtaking view of the city, but Karina kept driving until we reached our final stop. She parked the bike, removing the key, and got off first. Extending her hand, she helped me dismount as well. "What is this place?" I inquired, following her closer to the view.
"It's a place where my dad brought my mom to confess his feelings to her. It was his spot, and even before that, it belonged to my grandma. After my dad passed away, my mom brought me here because I couldn't get over his death. She shared all their stories with me, and we laughed and cried together," Karina explained, her voice carrying the weight of memories.
I hung onto her every word. Karina paused for a moment before continuing.
"She also told me to come here whenever I feel stressed out or just need to connect with my dad in a way. So that's what I did. I was here last night, seeking guidance. I asked him if I should go forth with something, and I got the answer I wanted," she said, smiling warmly at me as she spoke.
Karina's revelation left me speechless. I sensed there was more she wanted to express.
"There’s another thing Mom told me about this spot. She said if I wanted to confess my feelings to someone, I should come here. It’s a place special to me, where my dad and grandma did the same in the past," she explained, her gaze fixed on me.
My heart raced at her words. She took hold of my hands. "Y/n, over the last two weeks, my feelings for you have grown. It started when I saw Nate getting too close to you. I realized then that I’d do anything to keep you safe. I've cherished every moment we've spent fixing my bike. I’ve come to realize that I have feelings for you. Please, tell me you feel the same?”
I was taken aback by her confession, my mind racing as I processed her words and the depth of my own feelings.
I was taken aback. Karina's confession of her feelings caught me by surprise, but it filled me with joy to know that the emotions were mutual. With heartfelt honesty, I replied, “Karina... from the moment your smile caught my eye, I felt something special. The time we've shared, every moment, it's made my feelings grow stronger. I do feel the same way. I'm grateful you feel it too.”
As Karina's hand cupped my cheek, her touch was gentle yet filled with longing. Our gazes locked, conveying emotions words couldn't express. I leaned into her touch, feeling the warmth of her hand against my skin. In that silent exchange, the air thickened with anticipation. We moved closer, our bodies drawn together by an invisible force. When our lips finally met, a surge of electricity ran through me, setting my nerves on fire. My heart raced with a mix of excitement and nervousness, mirroring the intensity I sensed in Karina. Every heartbeat seemed synchronized, creating an unspoken harmony between us. I withdrew my hand from hers, instinctively wrapping both around her neck, drawing her closer and intensifying the kiss. Simultaneously, her hand moved to the side of my stomach, tracing gentle, reassuring circles. The passionate exchange stirred a whirlwind of emotions between us, each moment pulsating with raw feelings. As the kiss deepened, the need for air became undeniable, forcing us to reluctantly break apart, breathless and exhilarated.
We were both breathing heavily, savoring the lingering sensation of the kiss. I opened my eyes first; Karina's remained closed, a charming smile gracing her face. When her eyes finally met mine, we shared a moment of laughter, both in disbelief and excitement. Karina reached out, taking my hand. "Come on, let's go do something fun," she said, smiling warmly.
I grabbed her hand, and we sprinted back to her bike. She swiftly handed me the helmet, planting one more kiss on my lips before securing the helmet over my head. With her helmet on, she mounted the bike, extending her hand to help me get on. I wrapped my arms around her waist, holding on tightly as she revved the engine and guided us to our next stop.
This time, cruising through the city felt different—carefree, even. I felt lighter, more alive, and undeniably happy, all thanks to the girl in front of me. As we reached Imperial, a nightclub, Karina dismounted first and helped me off the bike. She handed the keys to the valet, grasped my hand, and led me confidently toward the entrance. We bypassed any need for IDs as Karina was familiar with the bouncer.
After arriving, we beelined to the bar for drinks. Shots flowed freely, and we lost ourselves in the music, dancing together all night. Carefree and spirited, we moved to the beats, laughing and enjoying the moment. Eventually, we somehow made it back home, and waking up there, I was grateful that we'd safely returned.
I woke up in a room that didn’t seem familiar, but seeing Karina next to me put me at ease. Glancing around, I noticed a picture of her and BamBam on the nightstand. It was Karina's room. I felt a moment of panic, worrying we'd gone too far last night, but a quick check under the blanket revealed I was fully dressed. I sighed in relief and stole a glance at Karina, peacefully asleep beside me. She stirred, and I found myself captivated by her face. She slowly opened her eyes, catching me in the act.
“What a lovely sight to wake up to,” she said, her morning voice soft and gentle.
I grinned and leaned in for a kiss. She reciprocated, but before it could linger, she broke away. “As much as I'd love to, let me brush my teeth first.”
“Karina, it's fine. Come here,” I insisted, trying to pull her back for another kiss. With a laugh, she evaded my grasp and dashed into the bathroom, teasingly repeating, “No, let me brush my teeth!”
I stayed seated on her bed, chuckling at her playful antics, before eventually rising and making my way to the bathroom. While we brushed our teeth, our playful nudges and giggles made it feel like we were back in high school.
Once we finished brushing our teeth, we moved to her kitchen and decided to make some food. Karina prepared some eggs and toast, a simple yet satisfying breakfast.
“Y/n,” Karina said, breaking the calm ambiance of the morning.
“Yeah?” I responded, looking up to meet her gaze.
Her eyes held a mix of adoration and nervousness. “Will you be my girlfriend?” she asked, her voice slightly wavering.
My heart fluttered in excitement. "I would love to be your girlfriend," I replied, rising from my seat to give her a passionate kiss. She returned it with equal fervor.
Breaking the kiss, she took a deep breath. "There's a race tonight. I want you and Aeri to be there, please," she requested.
"Absolutely, count on us!" I assured her.
"Great! You guys are like my good luck charms in a way, so I need you there," she said, gently rubbing my sides.
The tension was palpable as the night settled in. Karina had her eyes set on a significant prize this time. Winter, her competitor, was no ordinary racer, having secured victories at a level matching Karina's own accomplishments. When I inquired if Karina felt nervous about this race, she assured me of her composure, having previously met Winter, who seemed amiable.
As we arrived at the garage, the atmosphere crackled with a blend of excitement and anticipation. Aeri and I joined forces to help Karina ready her bike, meticulously tuning every detail for optimum performance. Meanwhile, Karina engaged in a serious conversation with BamBam, strategizing about bets and fine-tuning her approach for the upcoming race.
"Think Karina's got this one in the bag?" I asked Aeri, passing her a wrench.
"I'm not entirely certain this time. Winter's no joke. She's a fantastic racer, saw her work before, and it's impressive," Aeri replied, adjusting a tool.
“She’s really that good?” I inquired, surprised by Aeri’s statement about Winter.
“She’s just as good as Karina,” Aeri confirmed.
Karina returned after her conversation with BamBam, drawing me in for a quick peck to express gratitude for cleaning her bike. Before I could respond, Aeri interjected playfully, demanding her own acknowledgment for the help she'd provided. Karina indulged her with a forehead kiss, a smirk playing on her lips.
Aeri teased about being the matchmaker, observing Karina and me embracing each other. As the moment of the race arrived, BamBam's booming voice signaled Karina to prepare, redirecting everyone's attention to the impending competition.
“Alright guys, let's go race,” Karina announced, setting the momentum for the upcoming event. As we made our way to the race track, Winter appeared, engrossed in conversation with some acquaintances. Aeri departed momentarily to fetch drinks while I stayed by Karina's side.
Karina sought to park her bike beside Winter’s. “Are you okay waiting here for a bit?” she inquired.
“Yes, I'm good,” I replied as she moved to position her bike. In the meantime, Winter approached me. “Hey, what's your name?” she asked with a smile.
“I'm Y/n, and you’re Winter,” I responded.
“That’s me! So… why is a beautiful girl standing alone by herself?” Winter questioned, her expression playful.
“Oh, just waiting on a friend,” I answered casually, trying to keep things light amidst the anticipation of the race.
“How about this? You and I go somewhere together after the race is done?” Winter proposed, her tone playful.
“Umm-” I hesitated, feeling a rush of panic. Where was Karina when I needed her?
“Oh, come on, I don't bite… unless you want me to?” Winter flirted, her demeanor teasing.
"Karina!" Relief washed over me as she arrived, once again coming to my rescue.
"Karina! This is your girlfriend?" Winter's curiosity was evident in her gaze toward both of us.
"Yes, she is." Karina confirmed, wrapping her arms around me protectively.
Winter eyed Karina's protective gesture and then smirked. "Okay then, your girl is a fine dime. I want to make a bet. If I win, you break up with Y/n, and she comes with me. If I don't, we can act like this conversation never happened," Winter proposed, extending her hand for a handshake.
“Deal,” Karina said, her tone firm, as she shook Winter’s hand.
“Great doing business with you,” Winter said with a smirk, winking at me before strolling toward her bike.
My heart raced with disbelief and hurt. “Karina, seriously? You’re just going to let that happen?” I felt betrayed, hurt that she would entertain such an idea without discussing it with me. I began to turn away, but Karina caught hold of my hand before I could leave.
“Y/n listen to me,” Karina pleaded as she held onto my hand.
I stopped but didn’t turn around. “No way. I can't believe this. You’re willing to throw away our relationship just like that,” I exclaimed, snapping my fingers in frustration. “We haven't even been together for two days, and now you’re betting on me? If you lose, I’m as good as gone,” I said, my anger palpable, trying to control the quiver in my voice.
“I did it to protect you.” Her voice cracked with an unexpected vulnerability.
“Protect me?” I turned to face her, frustration and confusion mixing within me.
“Winter... She’s a ruthless racer, and she’s been known for her tricks off the track. I couldn’t risk anything happening to you. I had to agree, but believe me, I never meant it. You mean more to me than anything else, Y/n. Please, you have to trust me on this.”
Her words struck a chord, but I was still shaken. “How could you make a deal like that without even discussing it with me?”
Karina's expression softened, remorse clear in her eyes. “I know, and I’m sorry. I panicked. Please, I’ll figure out a way. I won’t let anything happen to us.”
I hesitated, the hurt mingling with understanding. “You promise?”
“Absolutely. Trust me, okay?” Karina pleaded, her eyes pleading for forgiveness.
I sighed, torn between emotions but wanting to believe her. “Fine.”
She pulled me into a tight hug. “Thank you, Y/n. I promise, I’ll fix this, I’ll win the race for you.”
“I don't want to discuss it further. Let’s just focus on the race. I’ll be there with Aeri cheering you on,” I said, my hurt evident as I gave Karina a peck on the lips before walking over to Aeri, who had our drinks.
“What happened between you and Karina?” she asked, noticing Karina's sad expression.
“She and Winter made a bet about our relationship,” I explained.
“What kind of bet?” she inquired, eyebrows furrowed.
“If Winter wins, Karina and I have to split so I end up with Winter,” I revealed.
“What? Why would she agree to that?” Aeri exclaimed.
“I have no idea, but she’s asking me to trust her,” I replied.
“Okay, then let's try to trust her.”
The race commenced as Aeri and I fixated on the screen, watching Winter and Karina revving their engines atop their bikes. A girl emerged, brandishing a red flag. As she dropped it, signaling the start, the engines roared to life, and the race began.
Initially, it was a tight competition, neck and neck, but Winter skillfully claimed the lead. Her bike navigated every twist and turn effortlessly, gaining ground with ease. Karina trailed closely behind, mirroring Winter's prowess as they maneuvered through the course.
As the race unfolded, it became evident that Winter's racing skills were formidable, just as Aeri and Karina had indicated. The tension mounted within me as I fervently rooted for Karina to win. My feelings for her grew more pronounced with every twist and turn. I didn't want to end up with Winter; it was Karina I truly cared about.
Karina surged ahead at one point, fueling a flicker of hope, but it was short-lived as Winter swiftly overtook her. They were now neck and neck, closing in on the finish line. Karina managed to match Winter's pace, riding side by side. Both racers shared a momentary gaze, a blend of determination and grit in their eyes, each vying for victory.
My heart raced with anxiety as they neared the finish line. Winter had a slight edge, but Karina's resolve was unmistakable. The atmosphere was electric as they crossed the finish line simultaneously, leaving us all in suspense, waiting for the official outcome.
"Did Winter just win?" I asked myself in disbelief, falling to my knees, hurt by the outcome.
"Wait, wait!" The announcer's voice boomed. "Let's have a replay!"
As we watched the replay, it was clear: Karina's wheel crossed the finish line first. "Karina won!" I shouted in jubilation, Aeri joining in.
The crowd erupted into cheers. Karina removed her helmet, smiling. Winter approached her, extending her hand. "Good race, Jimin," she said.
Karina shook her hand, replying, "Good race, Minjeong."
Overwhelmed with emotion, I ran towards Karina, enveloping her in a tight hug. "You won," I said, still in disbelief.
"I told you to trust me," she said softly.
"I'll always trust you," I replied, pulling her into a passionate kiss.
The kiss was interrupted by Aeri's arrival. "AYYY, Karina!! YOU WON!!" she screamed, rushing to hug her. But then, Aeri punched Karina's arm hard.
"Ouch! What was that for?!" Karina exclaimed.
"That was for accepting the bet," Aeri retorted.
Karina sighed. "At least I won, and it's over now."
"Yeah, it's in the past. Let's focus on the present and work towards the future," I chimed in.
Karina went to collect her winnings, and we all headed back to Imperial to celebrate her victory. Imperial was alive with music, and we lost ourselves in the beats, dancing and reveling in the energy of the night. Karina and I moved together on the dance floor, the heat of the room adding to the charged atmosphere. The way she looked at me sent shivers down my spine, her desire unmistakable.
As our bodies moved in sync, the electricity between us intensified. Karina leaned in close, her voice a seductive murmur in my ear. “You look amazing tonight,” she whispered, her hand tracing a tantalizing path across my skin.
Unable to resist any longer, I pulled Karina closer to me, breathlessly murmuring in her ear, “Let's get out of here.” I could see the immediate spark of desire in her eyes as she eagerly took my hand, leading me out of the club. Outside, she hailed a cab, and within 10 minutes, we arrived at her house.
Pressing against her door, our passion intensified. Karina momentarily paused our embrace to unlock the door, and as soon as it swung open, she pushed me inside before closing it firmly behind us. We resumed our fervent kissing as we made our way upstairs to her room.
Karina shoved me onto the bed and removed her bra and shirt. She returned to kissing me, making tracks with her lips as she kissed down my neck. She broke the kiss and gripped the bottom of my dress,asking for permission to take it off. And I let her. I reached back to unhook my bra when she removed my dress. Allowing it to descend before me. After everything was off, she teased my nipples and kissed every part of my body, leaving as many traces as she could.
With my panties still in the way, she began to kiss her way down my body, reaching closer to my heart.
"Please," I whimpered.
Karina pulled down my panties and planted a kiss on top of them. began removing her boxers and pants. "Anything for you baby.” She muttered.
She gently brushed her cock's head on my pussy. “Fuck baby you’re so wet. Who makes you this wet” Karina Moaned.
"You!" I groaned, "Please, Karina, do something.
She began to break my pussy apart with her cock as she pushed it through my hole. She groaned, "Fuck you're so tight," and began to thrust in me. I felt amazing the way Karina was touching all the right places inside me. "Harder," I moaned.
Karina pounding me harder. We both moaned loudly. I was getting close. “Fuck Karina I’m close” I gasp out.
She groaned, continuing to thrust, "Me too."
I groaned, "Fuck Karina, you feel so good," as tears streamed down my cheeks from the pleasure she was giving me.
"Baby, where do you want it? Karina groaned, "Where do you want my cum?"
I moaned out, "Please cum inside."
Karina pushed herself closer to me. She reached down to my clit and gave it a few rapid circular rubs, and that was it for me.
I cried, "Fuck Karina, I'm cumming."
“Cum for me baby” She husked.
I squeezed Karina’s cock while I came hard. Sending her over the edge, she shoot ropes of cum into my pussy painting my walls white. I groaned at the warmth. Karina stood steady inside me for a second before releasing her grip and pulling out. She takes a deep breath and settles down next me, drawing me very close to her chest.
“Sleep now, beautiful. I’ll see you in the morning,” Karina whispered, planting a gentle kiss on my forehead.
•·················•·················•
“Hey, whatcha thinkin' about?” Karina asked, gazing at me with affection. We had just arrived at our spot. I hugged her tight. “Just thinking about when we first met, that's all,” I replied.
She leaned in for a peck. “Thanks to Aeri, I met the love of my life,” Karina said, smiling.
“Agreed,” I chuckled, drawing her into a kiss.
“I love you, Y/n,” she murmured against my lips.
“I love you too, Jimin.”
╰────── · · ୨୧ · · ──────╯
646 notes · View notes
misted-dream · 4 months
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🏎️ catch my drift ⋆ ๋࣭ ⭑ racer rival!mark x fem!reader
content | rivals to lovers, racing!au, slight slow burn, smut, plot centred fic, mentions of passed loved ones, some fluff
warnings | unprotected sex, head, praise(?), alcohol consumption, profanity, allusion to drugging
word count | 14k (2k of just pure smut)
synopsis | it's been a few years since you've started street racing. slowly, but surely you've been climbing the ranks and now, you're considered one of the best on the scene. however, the emergence of a totally new face sparks... interesting discussions. how could it be that no one's ever seen him before, and yet, some might argue he's on par with your level. with the end of the year race coming, you've got a lot more to prove this time round with a new enemy hot on your wheels.
author's note | i know absolutely nothing about cars but i always found the appeal of being a racer so 😟😟 anyways!! this is def on the longer side but for my first one, i decided to be a little self-indulgent. hope you give it a read!
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night lights blur into a singular entity as you speed through streets, intersections, and shortcuts. the body of your hair whipped up by the wind—you know you should be wearing a helmet, you know it full well, but you rushed out of the door tonight and simply forgot. your fingers grip onto the handles of your motorcycle even tighter as your bike accelerates even more. the stinging as wind enters your eyes is becoming nearly impossible to ignore, but you persist, knowing there's only a little bit left to go.
extending your fingers to the brake, you slowly begin to come to a halt in front of a bright white sign, flashing: open 24 hours! sat on the curb below the sign was haechan. he doesn't even wince at your abrupt appearance, no flinching at how close you stopped next to him. "took you long enough," he utters without looking up from his phone.
"that took me 7 minutes—10 at worst," you shoot back.
he gives an overtly exaggerated sigh before mumbling, "whatever," but made sure it was loud enough so you can hear. shoving his phone in his pocket, he springs to his feet, "ramen?"
after pushing your bike into the somewhat hidden employees' parking slots and resting it against the wall, you follow haechan into the convenience store.
soon enough, the two of you come out with instant ramen bowls that are hot to the touch. haechan sits back down on his spot on the curb, being careful not to spill any of the hot water onto himself and you do the same.
"so," haechan says in a tone that almost mimics an announcement. "how are you feeling?"
while in the midst of setting your bowl down next to you, a breath escapes you, nearing on the edge of a scoff. "great. thanks for asking," you put your chopsticks over the top of the foil lid of the bowl.
"really?" though you're not looking directly at him, you can picture haechan's eyebrows shooting up as he says that.
you lift your head to make direct contact with haechan's gaze. "why would i lie?"
haechan doesn't shy away from your stare, in fact, he seems to study your expression for any sign of disjointedness. after a beat or two, he resumes, "people can get nervous, you know," he breaks away from looking at you to pick up his bowl of ramen, "like most of the population does. you don't have to hide it," one of his shoulders rises as if to imitate a shrug.
using the palm of your hand, you push on his arm slightly swaying him away from you. "asshole," you mutter, evoking a muffled chuckle from haechan.
you go to take the chopsticks off of the lid and uncover the bowl; steam rises, hitting your face.
"i'm kidding," haechan chews, and then swallows impassively. "i know you have nothing to be nervous about."
"hopefully, not."
"did i suddenly shake you up or something? you sounded confident enough a minute ago."
you use your chopsticks to give your ramen a stir before bringing it up to your mouth and carefully blowing on it. "no," you say before stuffing a mouthful of noodles into your cheeks. "but who knows what will happen? like, last year, those freak accidents?"
haechan seems to give what you said a careful thought. "i think we all know they weren't just 'accidents,'" he pauses at his last word. "people always take the closing race so seriously--"
"yeah, and you know why," you jump in, one side of your mouth still full.
haechan rolls his eyes. "yeah, yeah, prize money—all that. but, they act like it's worth sabotaging other people for it."
you sit with his words for a minute. they ring a certain truth to it, but to some extent, you can also understand the motive behind the so-called "sabotage" that haechan was talking about. you were sure that you would never stoop so low—but again, you've never been put into a position where you had to cross that line.
the two of you continue wolfing down your midnight snack in prolonged silence.
"renjun asked about you the other day."
and with that simple sentence, it catches you off guard. you try your best to stifle a cough by sipping on some of the ramen broth—salty to the point that it reminds you why you shouldn't have done that. "what did he say?" despite sparing no effort to sound unaffected at the sound of his name, a waver in your voice can be heard if you paid close enough attention.
haechan finishes the remaining broth in his bowl before giving you an answer. "you know, the same old." an answer that's barely an answer.
you're unsure whether you should prod to find out more, or if you should just leave the topic here. you know what you would find out if you asked, anyway, so even though your lips opened up to respond, nothing came out of you.
"he's worried about you."
the word strikes a familiar chord within you. worry. as expected, it's nothing you didn't already know; he's always been worried.
"i'm not telling you this to try and change your mind about anything; i know you well enough to know you won't," haechan continues, "but maybe just talk to him."
"and say what?" instead of sounding defensive, your tone instead comes across as helpless, and haechan simply shrugs. "we're never going to see eye to eye on this. he wants me to stop racing. if i do now, what was it all for? if i don't win now, then everything i've done, i've done for nothing."
haechan inhales a deep breath. he lifts up his hand and lands two pats on your knee. "then, tell him that," he adjusts his body so he can get up on his feet, "the both of you are stubborn, and i don't want to play middleman anymore."
haechan stands towering over you still sat on the curb, his shadow casted over the entirety of your body. he extends a hand toward you, a sheepish grin overtaking his face and you know what he's about to ask you: "be a gentleman and give me a ride home?"
you take his hand, pulling yourself up from the ground. making sure the annoyance is visible on your face, you cock your head in the direction of your bike, "sure, i guess."
...
after dropping haechan off at his apartment, you return to yours. the rest of the night seems to pass like a blur. and before you know it, you're in front of your apartment door, trying to forcibly push it open. the door's lock has been jammed for at least a couple of months. telling your landlord would do absolutely nothing and a strong budge is good enough to get it open. so you're in front of your apartment door, putting your all into getting this damn thing to move, and it does after a few attempts.
you drag yourself inside, and once again, having to put your weight into making sure the front door is locked. in all honesty, you would up and leave here any second if you could, but you're barely making the rent on time here, so forget any wishful thinking of finding another place to stay here in the city.
plopping down on your slightly decrepit beanbag, your mind starts jumping back to the closing race. the last race of the year, where the prize is always the most considerable. this year, there's a hundred grand on the line.
maybe, wishful thinking isn't so bad, after all.
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you push harder and harder onto the pedal until your toes curl. in your sight, there is nothing but the finish line. in this instance, the finish line being where haechan stood with a stopwatch in his hand. your back tyres leave skid mark after skid mark on the concrete of the desolate parking lot. you speed past where haechan stood, so fast to the point where he didn't even register in your peripheral. and you come to a stop, turning so that your vehicle is now horizontal in relation to the track. kicking open the driver's door, you step out, almost with a kick in your step. there's certainty in your head that this had to be your best time.
"how was that?" you shouted over to haechan, who was now stalking over to where you had stopped.
he waited until he had reached within an arm's distance from you to speak, "not bad—1:27.03"
you exhale a deep breath, puffing out your cheeks. "1:27's better than 1:29," you had bested your own personal record. haechan holds his hand up and you meet his gesture with your own. he gives your hand a firm shake up in the air, "good job," a slight, but sincere smile appearing on his lips.
a sudden vroom catches both of your attentions from a distance. you turn your head to the entrance of the parking lot. a black blob, somewhat resembling the shape of a motorcycle, swiftly darts from one side of your vision to the other from behind the wire fence that surrounds the lot. "who's that?" you mutter.
you've never seen anyone here before. you thought that this lot was just a deserted junkyard that happened to be of good use to you, and no other racer bothered to drive out here, and to what? to practice? they simply roamed and tyrannised the streets for that.
then again, the same shadowy figure blitz past the entrance gate, but this time in the opposite direction. "they're leaving?" haechan voices, watching the figure as attentively as you.
that's weird, you thought, who just drives into a dead end and then turns around to leave immediately?
"huh," haechan pokes his tongue into his cheek.
as if you've been reminded of something, you hastily drag your phone out of your back pocket to check the time. "shit," you mutter under your breath, "i need to get to my shift." you turn on your heels, taking strides toward your car. leaning over the driver's seat, you dig around in the bag sat in the passenger for your keys. your fingertips quickly rifle through your belongings until you feel something cold and metal. swinging your keys into the palm of your hands, you walk back over to haechan. "she's yours," the pitch of your voice going up near the end of your statement, making it sound more like a question.
"i won't hurt your baby, don't worry," haechan responds to the clear concern in your voice with a teasing smile in his eyes.
you take purposeful steps toward the entrance of the parking lot, your bike parked right next to it. sliding your helmet off of the handle, you flip it over atop your head, each action carried out with an awareness of time. without hesitation, you secure on your helmet, swing one leg over your bike, and switch on your engine. a blare erupts from behind you—haechan is already lined up for the entrance with you being his only obstacle. fighting back the urge to flash up a gesture at him, you reluctantly begin to drive off to your shift.
...
"hey," you greet your coworker, almost out of breath, as you stagger into the convenience store right on time for your shift.
"i thought you weren't gonna show up, again," she comments, clearly impatient. eagerly, she makes her way out in front of the cashier counter.
you mumble a quick apology, and she doesn't respond further. she goes into the employees' lounge to collect her stuff; two minutes later, she's back and she's clocking out without a word.
seeing as there's no one in the store right now, you enter your pin to the employees' only room. there's a small circular desk in the middle of the cramped room with two teal sofa chairs next to it. you set down your bag, your jacket, and your helmet before getting out again.
as you straighten your shirt, you start thinking about the next several boring hours you're obligated to spend in this stuffy shop as you make your way behind the counter. immediately, as if it's muscle memory, your head tilts upwards to the right side of the store where the tv is positioned. on screen, they seem to be showing some celebrity reality show that you've seen once or twice but haven't kept up with. you watch absentmindedly, counting down the hours you have left before you can go home. 8 hours. 8 hours until it's 11pm. 8 hours until closing. whatever made you pick the evening shift over the morning shift, anyway? now that you think about it, 7-3 seems a lot more desirable than 3-11.
as you're lost in your regretting your work decisions, the door bell chimes, snapping you back into consciousness.
a manly figure steps through, dressed in ash grey jeans paired with a brown leather jacket, visibly worn. the figure's face is covered by a jet black helmet, one similar to yours. the figure stops in front of the glass doors, gloved hands reaching up to cast off the helmet. once it's off, the man tucks his helmet into the crook of his left elbow and attempts to adjust his hair in a rather shaggy manner with his other hand.
your eyes dart outside through the glass panes; a black motorcycle.
as the man browses through the aisles lackadaisically, you try to pay him no mind, returning your gaze back to the mediocre reality tv.
he takes several minutes, walking up and down, then down and up again through the display racks, only picking something up once. then, he approaches the counter, helmet still in his arms. he sets down a bottle of water in front of you, "can i have a pack of those?" he gestures behind you, pointing to the cigarette stand. you pick out the brand he's pointing at and scan it through on the register, then repeating the same with his bottle of water.
"that'll be 8.99."
the man sets his helmet down on the edge of the counter, careful not to knock any of the gum packets on display off. his arm reaches behind him and pulls out a worn leather wallet. as he's digging through to find his card, or cash, you don't know for sure, your eyes dart back outside. "that your bike outside?"
he seems to be caught off-guard by your small talk. the man's head snaps to look at you, eyes wide, eyebrows raised, and his lips slightly ajar. "uh- yeah," he returns his attention onto his wallet. now, his fingers look to be struggling to pull a card out.
you nod your head, almost like in approval. "what model is it?" truth be told, you knew what model it was, you even knew the make. but something about the man standing before you made you want to keep talking to him, regardless of if it was small talk.
"tuono 660," basically confirming what you thought you knew, "aprilia."
he hands you his card and you take it in your hands, m. lee embossed along the bottom. you hover over the card reader until a beep sounds out. you return his card wearing a small smile on your expression, "would you like your receipt?" instinctually returning to your customer service tone.
"no... thanks," he replies, followed by a tight-lipped smile. he shoves his wallet back inside his pocket and grabs ahold of both his water and cigarettes in one hand.
"thank you," your much practiced tone and expression still dripping on each word.
the man catches your eyes for a split second, before he turns his head, then his whole body to exit the store.
a sudden eruption of laughter comes from the tv but it fades into the background of your mind. the man is now outside on the curb, pocketing his pack of cigs into his jeans before climbing onto his bike.
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"haechan!" you exclaim as you push the door closed behind you. it's surprise visits like this that makes haechan sometimes regret giving you a key to his apartment. "helloo?" you call out again.
you make your way over to the kitchen island when you hear a door click. footsteps begin to shuffle on the wooden floorboards.
"yn," a curt voice speaks out.
the voice sends a sudden jolt through your body. you lift your head to see a pair of brown eyes fixated on you. "renjun," you greet him but the enthusiasm you had a second ago is now nowhere to be heard.
in your head, you debate whether you should ask how he's doing, you know, normal friendly stuff people do. would it be weird? surely not. but before you can reach a consensus in your mind, renjun cuts your thoughts off.
"haechan's in the bathroom."
your lips mimic an 'oh.' perhaps this is the one time that you regret haechan giving you his key. you purse your lips together, an "um," tumbling out of you. and now you're back to debating whether or not you should ask him about his day. seconds tick by, made evident by the clock hung up in the centre of their living room. seconds that feels like hours.
haechan bursts out from the bathroom, curses slipping past his lips. thank god, was the only thought you can form. you don't know how much more of the awkward silence you can take from renjun.
"yn! oh my god," haechan demands your attention from the other man standing right across from the pair of you.
"what?" you blurt out, unsure whether haechan's franticness is genuine, or if he heard the scene that went down before and decided to be a saving grace.
"listen!" his thumbs scroll on his phone at a rate that you're sure he can't be comprehending anything.
after waiting a few seconds for him to follow up on his eagerness and having been met with nothing, you prod a bit, "go on, then. i'm listening."
his thumbs suddenly stop, eyes scanning the lines of text rapidly on his screen. "they're saying some new kid won the league race last night." his words almost slur into one another at the pace which he is speaking with.
"...so?"
haechan must've seen the genuine confusion that's struck your face; he seems stuck in a trance-like state for a moment as he tries to register your hint of nonchalance.
"you don't get it!" he clicks his tongue and his eyes go back to his phone. "he won, by like- a lot. his time was only 3 seconds away from yours."
and that's when you begin to understand the sort of panic seeped into haechan's demeanor. in all honesty, he's acting more panicked than you are, or should be.
"what- who's telling you this?"
"people we know- it doesn't matter! what matters is they're saying he might beat you at closing this year."
you lean over to catch a glimpse of what haechan is intently looking at. your head turns to the back of you to the hallway leading to renjun's room, and he's not there anymore; his door shut as well. you would've said something about renjun to haechan but the both of you are rather preoccupied right now.
"there's no way," you whisper under your breath, more so to relieve your own disbelief than anything. "who is this guy?"
haechan scrolls up in the groupchat thread that he's in, until he lands on a picture sent by someone who you don't recognise. "i don't know," he clicks on the picture, zooming in. it obviously was taken with the subject being unaware of it. "they're saying his name- well, at least his racing name, is drift."
"a little on the nose, don't you think?" you mutter as your eyes study the picture haechan is showing you. the man pictured is in the distance, in the middle of taking his helmet off. dressed in an outfit you've seen before. that same brown leather jacket and the grey jeans that looks black due to the poor resolution. "i've seen him before," you admit to haechan.
his head turns to you as fast as humanly possible, "you have?"
you give him a nonchalant nod of the head, the corners of your mouth dropping down like in understanding.
"why do you not seem even a bit concerned?" haechan questions.
"should i be?" you distance yourself from haechan as you approach their fridge. maybe you should be, but humility has never been a strong virtue of yours.
haechan watches your every action carefully, even as you reach inside of his fridge to grab a cold soda into your hands. "i'm telling you, yn, this guy is good."
the league races sound exactly like the opposite of what they are. they're the smaller street races that take place right before the closing race for people to blow some steam off; kind of... take the pressure off the closing for some. point is, they're unimportant. to you, at least. which is why for as long as you've been racing, you've never attended one, to save some gas for the closing, that's what you've convinced yourself.
your fingernails dig below the tab of the can and a release pops. 'i guess i'll have to see for myself," you swig back a mouthful of sweet, bubbly soda. "when's the next league race?"
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boring, boring, boring.
that's how every one of your shifts go. but you don't have a choice. well, you do. either you work, or get evicted, and it's pretty clear to you which one you prefer. the only strand of motivation you're holding onto at this point, is the fact that after you win closing, you can maybe start looking for a better job somewhere else. maybe even move out of that shitty apartment. but that's after the closing, and haechan would like to remind you that that's even if you win.
and as if scripted, the topic of debate between you and your best friend for the past few days steps through the glass doors to the convenience store. you don't know how you recognised him that quickly, you don't know why you recognised him, but you know it's him. once again. m. lee, huh. drift. you still haven't grown fond of his stage name.
today, he's wearing grey, baggy sweatpants, with the same leather jacket you've seen him in on all occasions you've seen him. he's browsing through the aisles again, with a cap obstructing your view of his face. you watch him more carefully this time than before. looking outside, no bike this time.
he walks over to the row of refrigerators situated on the left side of the store and pulls out a can of beer. his actions seemed to be performed with a certain kind of preciseness, meticulousness.
he saunters over to you, stood behind your counter.
you watch as he places the can in front of you, head down, once again, looking for his wallet. it's like you have deja vu. instead of scanning the can through, your fixation on watching his every action overrides your muscle memory.
"so, are you new 'round here?"
he looks at you through his brows, the same deer in headlights expression he wore the first time you've seen him. however, his lips quickly break into a small curve. "you're really fond of small talk, aren't you?"
you don't know what to make of his tone—half teasing, half amused, but his gaze is cold and hard, despite the smile lifting on the corners of his mouth.
"just being friendly," you break eye contact with him, a slight gratefulness twinges within you for your duties as a cashier as you go to scan his can of beer through to the system.
"well, in that case, yes. i am new around here."
you go to meet his gaze again, now with a small, satisfied grin on your own face. as subtle as you can, you scan his outfit, or what you can see of it with the counter in the way. the hems of his leather jacket washed out in colour; a lighter brown as compared to the darker shade on the sleeves. a light discolouration throughout that you can't deem whether as intentional or not. a sudden urge overtakes you.
"do you race?"
his off-guard expression is now back again, "sorry?"
"i saw your bike last time," you try to say casually, "it's modified, isn't it?"
he purses his lips tightly together, eyebrows lifted as if you caught him in a lie. then, his expression softens. "yeah, it is. you know quite a bit about bikes, i assume?"
"just a bit."
a smirk now dragging on his lips, "i'm delighted that you think i'm good enough to race." something about the way he enunciated his sentence made you pause for a split second. "so, how much?" his finger gestures toward the beer on the counter, drops of condensation beginning to pool at the base of it.
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it should be here, you think to yourself as you begin to approach a rather quiet part of the city. haechan said it was going to be here. he would've went with you, like he'd said, if renjun—his roommate—wasn't conveniently out of town tonight.
you take a turn onto the main road, and sure enough, there's a crowd of people standing on the pavements on all sides of the intersection a little bit further down. indistinct murmuring begins to fill your ears. the sound of bottles hitting the concrete ground, laughter, music, all of it. as you get closer and closer, a heavy smell of smoke also enters your airways.
you approach the crowd a bit more, but keep your distance—about 6 feet away from the perimeter of the group of people. suddenly, several heads turn in your direction. the scene is unsettling, you've never seen it from this perspective. it's as if they're all being remotely controlled as more and more heads turn. they're not looking at you though but—
without warning, a car speeds past you.
speed is an understatement; it was in your peripheral vision for less than a second before it zooms off down the rest of the main street. right as the car passes you, cheers erupt from the conglomerate of people, all of them following the car's trajectory. a loud voice booms, seemingly out of nowhere.
"and there we have it! newcomer drift takes another one!"
there's a moment of stillness before another car zooms by, one that you recognise. the voice continues without missing a beat, "and revy comes in at second!"
the crowd of people all start to move up the street towards the two cars that have now slowly come to a halt up at the next intersection, their movements reminiscent of a stampede of sorts. giving into curiosity, you follow the crowd but with the same distance you kept as before.
cheer and fanfare can probably be heard from several blocks away. excited screaming strikes your eardrums, and before you can even hope that it quiets down at least a little bit, even more screaming fills the atmosphere. you tilt your head to get a better view at what everyone is cheering at. and sure enough, a familiar silhouette steps out. the man raises a palm as if to wave at the crowd of people who all cheered instantaneously louder for him the second he did so. he walks toward the crowd, and the voice booms once again all over this part of the street. you see a boy, presumably a teenager, approach the man with a mic in one hand and a speaker in the other. the boy drops his microphone as he goes to whisper something in the man's ear. of course, you can't hear anything, but you're also a bit too far to even attempt to read his lips. it's hard to say you're not intrigued by all this commotion. and for what? for the man who you've now decided frequents the convenience store you work at? you need to find out more, we'll call it researching your competition.
you cut your way through the crowd. cars are still zooming past that first intersection, which is now behind you, but no one seems to pay them any mind.
you're behind the first row of people within the crowd and you're just about to come out on the other side when a familiar face peers out from the side, startling you just a tiny bit.
"surprised you turned up," her voice is silky smooth. a too perfect beam tugging on her lips.
"minjeong," you try your best to mirror her smile right back at her. you have no energy for trivial smack talk tonight.
"i always thought you were too good for the leagues... what changed?" her charm is undeniable. the expression on her face still as polite as ever, but you know better than to assume what you can see.
"nothing, just wanted a change of scenery."
before minjeong replies, someone else steps in to join your conversation. "come on, we have to go," they don't seem to be addressing you. you do them the favour of letting yourself fade into the background as your eyes search again for man you've been focused on prior. at that second, the two of you stare directly at each other. you force yourself to look away but you can't, it's like there's a magnetic field surrounding just the two of you. he turns his head away first, refocusing his attention to the teenage boy who is still stood next to him.
"we'll see you around, yn," minjeong waves goodbye to you but instead of rotating her wrist, she flutters her fingers lightly. her words spoke with such careful calculation, and yet her voice as sweet as honey. you eke out a small, courteous smile; no point in calling her out on her bullshit tonight.
as you're watching minjeong and her friend walk off into an alley, someone else is headed towards you. you don't notice until you turn your head and-
"so, we're stalking now?" he stands a little bit taller than you, a glimmer in his eyes as he's staring down at you. this man is an enigma. how could he come off as shy one second back at your work, and here, he's completely charismatic. must be in his element.
the people around you seems to take notice of the pair of you, or maybe just him, but you've grown used to scenes like this; it's not like you've never been to a race before where there's an attractive racer that everyone seems to go weak in the knees for.
"you flatter yourself," you can't hold back the urge to bat your lashes—just once—at him.
"if i didn't know better, i would think so," he drags his words out one by one. his response causes you to wrinkle your brows, not sure what to say to that, which earned a light chuckle out of him. "you think i don't know who you are?" a playfulness ringing in his tone. is he teasing you right now? had he known this whole time?
"how did you-?"
a chorus of voices flare up in the middle of the crowd. you turn on your heels to see people running off in every direction. suddenly, the same teenage boy from before is propped up on others, shouting out, "someone called the cops!"
immediately, you turn back around. you can feel a firm grasp on your wrist pulling you in the direction of the alley that minjeong and her friend walked into earlier. for a second, you're stood still where you are, the panic of everyone else around you freezes you to the spot. then, you hear a "come on!" from the man holding your wrist, and before you know it, you let yourself get hauled away in midst of the chaos into leather jacket man's car.
wordlessly, he starts his engine and speeds off into... you don't know where, yet, but far enough away from where the gathering was. once the two of you are at enough distance away from the race, he starts decelerating, but shows no indication that you will be stopping any time soon. you look over to the driver's seat, his gaze is fixated on the road ahead and you're not sure whether you should make conversation.
you sit in silence for about 5 minutes as you watch out of the window. you can tell that you're getting further and further away from the centre of the city, and in fact, you're nearing the beach that runs along the coast.
it wasn't long until you turn into the parking lot, and finally, come to a stop. he unclicks his seatbelt, provoking you to do the same. he flips the handle on his door and gets out, still without a word. you watch as he zips up his jacket, stuffs his hands into his pockets, and crouch slightly to look at you through his windows. he tilts his head in the direction of the beach which you took as a signal to get out of the car as well.
as soon as you step out onto the tarmac parking lot, a cool evening breeze sweeps right past you. with the wind caught up in your hair, you clasp your hands together to gain some warmth. leather jacket man is already headed for the shoreline, a lax pattern in his steps, making it easy for you to catch up to him.
"congratulations," you break the silence once you're at the side of him. he looks at you, and you continue walking down the beach. "for winning leagues tonight," you follow up.
he stops walking. when you peer back at him, you're met with the same playful expression that was on his face back at the race. "thanks," a glint reflected in his teeth. "sorry about... dragging you back there," he bends at his waist, and then sits down on the soft sand shimmering under the moonlight.
you take a step towards him, and then decide to join him on the ground. your fingers sink into the sand as you're setting yourself down. waves lap over and over at the shoreline, the body of the ocean twinkling under the void of stars up above.
"so you knew, huh?" you grab a handful of sand and delicately let it fall off your fingers.
he extends his legs and leans back on his hands that rested behind his torso. "how could i have not?" an air of confidence interweaved within his voice. you turn your head towards him, and he looks to be biting back a cocky smirk, "gotta know your enemies, right?"
you're not sure which part of his sentence you should address. "know?" what does he know about you? and it didn't register within you that he saw you as an enemy, as a threat before.
"alright, then, since you know so much about me, it's my turn to ask you something." you dust off the sand on your hands and reposition yourself so that your body faces him—your legs criss-crossed with each other.
"shoot."
"what's your name?"
he gives you a suspicious look; a slight tug at his lips and furrowed brows. he pushes himself off one hand to lean in closer towards you, "well, did you not hear the announcer? i think he said my name pretty loud and clear when i passed that finish line."
you roll your eyes, seriously considering the idea of shoving sand down his throat so he could stop with his mockery. "do you know mine?"
without missing a beat, he replies, "yn."
"so what's yours?"
he looks straight at you, a face full of careful consideration, before he gives in. "mark," a smile plastered on his face that you can't describe as other than 'dorky.'
you repeat his name under your breath, attention now back to the sand between the two of you.
a brief minute passes by as you two listen to the ocean's waves rippling quietly.
"i'm guessing it was you that day at the junkyard?" mark asks.
and so the puzzle completes itself in your mind, "you say that like i'm invading in on your space." a sudden gust of wind blows past you, sending a chill down your spine.
"it was my uncle's," mark hangs his head back, directing his gaze at the stars. "i'd recently just moved back so i didn't know it'd be empty. or that you'd be there." you watch mark watch the stars.
"what happened to it being your uncle's?"
mark's adam's apple dips as he gulps down a swallow. "he'd passed, not too long ago."
"oh..." you return to fidgeting with the sand under your fingertips, "i'm sorry for your loss."
"it happens," mark exhales a deep breath. you feel there's a change in conversation coming with the way he's readjusting his shirt, pulling down on its hem poking out from underneath his jacket. "anyway. you down to help me practice tomorrow?"
your eyebrows shoot up, not just at the sudden change in topic, but at his request, "help? you practice?" it's almost laughable.
"i mean, yeah," he shrugs, "the enemy of your enemy is a friend, right? we have plenty of shared enemies."
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as promised, you show up the next day up at the parking lot that you're pretty sure you would've went to anyway regardless of if mark asked you to or not. after all, closing's in a week and you need to get whatever amount of practice in that you can.
sure enough, mark is already there. you park your car right at the entrance gate and you step out to see him controlling his vehicle expertly. at every turn, he steers sideways with a precision that's unrivalled to anything you've ever seen in person. his front wheels pointed in the opposite direction of his turn as the back tyres glide on the cement as if it was ice—a screech can heard as a result.
he begins to pick up his pace again and drive in your direction, his focus seemingly entirely on the front of your car. he wouldn't. it's not that you trust him, but he wouldn't put himself in a danger like that, would he?
and before he reaches the point where it'd be too late for him to swerve, he carries out another one of his perfectly controlled, drifted turns, stopping with his driver's side window facing right at you. you stand unflinching and notice that his window is rolled all the way down.
"flashy," you voice, "going for style points, are we?"
he juts his head out of his window. cheekily, he suggests, "you down for a race?"
not being one to back down, you agree. mark points to a spot in the middle of the parking lot and you get back into your car to follow him. you pull up right next to where mark is, rolling down your passenger's window so you can communicate with him. "how does a lap sound?"
"sounds good to me," mark smirks back at you.
you turn your head to face the vastness of the empty lot in front of you. mark counts down out loud from 3. you press down on the gas pedal, revving your engine. 2. your hand reaches for the gear stick. and 1. both of you shoot off into the distance, and unexpectedly, you're neck in neck with him. you push on harder on the pedal, gaining you a little bit of ground, which mark makes up for without hesitation.
the remainder of this little mock race carries on like this. you earn the lead for 2 seconds, then mark takes it back. then you're in the lead again, and... not anymore. as you're close to finishing your lap, you can tell you're just the tiniest bit behind mark. so, in a last ditch effort, you step on your pedal to the fullest, as hard as you can, allowing you to surpass him the most you have so far, and just as you're about to pass the finishing point again, you can see mark catching up to you. and like that, both of you have crossed into the second lap. it's impossible to tell which one of you took the lead at the end with just the naked eye.
mark's car comes to a slow.
you'd be lying to yourself if you said there wasn't even the slightest hint of frustration within you. no one has ever been that close to you before. sure, when you were just starting out. but not now. not when you've earned yourself the title of being known as the best in this city. needless to say, you're pissed. but not at mark.
you throw your head back onto the headrest, sighing a deep sigh.
mark makes his way around to your side of the vehicle. he rests one hand on the roof of your car and the other on his hip. "was that a just practice for you, or...?" a light pant in his voice.
"don't get cocky now." you gesture for him to back up. flinging open your door, you step out, pulling on the muscles of your traps as you stretch your neck.
he takes a single step closer to you. now he's standing a little too close for comfort, close enough that you can smell the woody notes of his cologne. "that take a lot out of you?"
"you got lucky, that's all." his gaze on you is unwavering, only moving away from your eyes to study the other parts of your face.
"i did, didn't i?" you catch his eyes flicker between yours and your lips.
an unsettling feeling sparks in the pit of your stomach. slowly, mark brings his hand up to your face. with his index finger, he traces from the back of your jawline to your chin. at the slight of his touch, you can feel a shiver running down you.
you can feel his warmth emanating off of him. bit by bit, he closes the gaping distance between the two of you. mark places his thumb on the other side of your jaw, gently guiding your face towards his.
but, something in you tells you to stop. stop whatever he's doing, stop yourself from giving into whatever he's doing.
you place a hand on his chest, met with the cold, harsh leather of his jacket. you drop your head, so that you're not facing him directly.
"i think..." at your words, mark releases the gentle hold he had on you and shuffles a step or two away from you. he clears his throat.
"i'm..." mark shuts his eyelids for a moment, "i'm sorry," his hands seem to begin to gesture something before he puts them in his pockets.
"no, no," you feel a slight shake of your head. a sudden train of thoughts rush through your mind. "i think i should go."
mark seems to mutter a small "yeah," as he backs away from your car.
...
"haechan, open your damn door right now," you call out as you're knocking so hard on haechan's bedroom door that it's sure to give out after another minute.
"i'm coming! i'm coming," you hear his voice from the other side. "god, you don't have to come breaking down my apartment every time; phones exist for a reason, y'know?" the handle twists and his door swings open.
your heart is practically pounding out of your chest. you had so much to tell him that you don't even know where to start. haechan stare at you blankly, "so, speak."
"mark! mark fucking lee-"
"sorry- is this someone that i'm supposed to know?"
you're pacing up and down the hallway of haechan's apartment, "yes! you do know him, it's that guy! that drift guy from the leagues."
"you're on first name basis with him?" he questions with a grin on his face that you know too well.
"it's not like that!" you take a pause in pacing, "i don't know, maybe it's like that- i just- ugh!"
haechan exhales and steps out of his doorway. he closes his door behind him, and begins to shuffle you towards the kitchen. "slow down, take a seat," he points at the kitchen stool, "you want a drink?"
"what- no, just listen!"
"i am, i am," haechan proclaims as he goes to grab a glass bottle of beer in the middle of the island as he sits on the stool facing you. "go on, then."
you tell him that you met mark—drift—back at the league race that he was supposed to go to with you the other night. then, about how mark took to you the beachside for whatever reason afterwards. then, today, you were racing him and he was about to kiss you? now that you're regurgitating all this information, you couldn't even wrap your head around it.
"but he was good, haechan, you were right."
"you should say that more often," haechan takes a sip of his beer.
"bro, if he beats me at closing..." your shoulders deflate at the thought. you hadn't even considered this possibility of losing until mark showed up out of nowhere.
haechan forcefully sets his bottle down on the hard counter. "you're tweaking. like, actually," a chuckle comes out with his words. what he's saying doesn't seem to be resonating with you, so he tries to go another approach, "look, listen, i know i was worried before but, i know your skillset, yn. there's no way some guy can just come in and beat you."
you try to convince yourself into believing what haechan is telling you, but rationally, you know that today's race proved to be way too close. "no, but, that kiss as well- that almost kiss. what am i supposed to make of that?"
haechan leans his elbows onto his knees. "isn't it obvious? he's distracting his competition," he goes to wrap his fingers around the base of the bottle, "and look at you; it's working, isn't it?"
you sigh. you hated how logical haechan's reasoning for it was. surely, that was it, it's stupid to think it was anything more, right?
"so, what do i do?"
haechan takes you in for a second. a devious smirk begins to appear on his face. you know that whatever he's about to say, you won't like it.
"you show him..." he points the neck of the beer bottle at you, "...that two can play that game."
you sit in silence staring at haechan for a moment—he looks like he expected to be applauded for such a genius idea. "okay... and how the hell do i do that?"
"revy's party, tomorrow night. we're going."
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you step through into a dimly lit kitchen, it's floor sticky with who knows what. it's been less than 24 hours since haechan suggested the two of you attend a party thrown by another one of your racing rivals. less than 24 hours since you've gone back on your word, claiming to yourself that you will never attend a party like this. and the reasoning is right in front of your eyes: a cramped room filled with people you don't know, music so loud that it penetrates inside of your skull making your brain physically vibrate, and not to mention the lack of actual food? there's no way you can survive on cheap liquor and cheese puffs all night. and thinking about tomorrow makes it all the worse.
and that's why when haechan first proposed this idea to you, you were dead set on denying it. "no," you'd said, "absolutely not." his genius idea turned out to be voluntarily putting yourself in uncomfortable social situations? added with the fact that it's the night before closing?
"what other option do you have?" haechan had asked.
and you supposed he was right. you had no other choice. you had tonight, and only tonight, to really play your cards right.
so, that's why you're here, in the kitchen of someone's house—whose, you didn't know. haechan steps through with you right at your side. you're scanning through the heaps of people, some drinking, some making out, some straight up dry humping on each other. truly a stereotypical scene that looks as though it came straight out of a coming of age movie.
and you spot him. just like haechan had said, he's here.
mark stands all the way across the kitchen, preoccupied talking to a girl. you haven't seen her before, and you certainly haven't seen the pair of them together before. cups in both of their hands, they seem to be chatting, enjoying each other's company, and you turn the plan you had come up with together with haechan over in your head.
finding yourself stuck in a rut—luckily one that's shallow enough—you tap haechan on his arm, then gesture toward the beverage table. the both of you approach it but neither giving in to the giant bowl of red punch in the centre of it. the kitchen floor was sticky, the air is sticky, you don't want to think about the implications of what could be in this bowl. you reach out to grab a can of beer, and haechan follows. "i spotted him," you tell haechan, not necessarily speaking carefully because if you did, he wouldn't hear you over the booming of the house music that's being played.
"yeah?" he takes a swig of his room-temperature beer. "you know what to do then?" he lifts a brow at you, and when you respond with an expression that told him 'yes' no matter how hesitantly, he snapped you a quick wink, and did a 180 heading for another cramped room in the house.
for the next several minutes, you're stood by the bar, back facing the rest of the party downing gulps after gulps of canned beer. you don't feel it doing much aside from warming you up a little bit. you're about to reach for a second one, when a figure steps into your peripheral.
you try to discreetly figure out who the person is standing next to you, but the moment you caught a glimpse of his face, you knew.
mark wanted to break the ice by saying something witty, but... was that appropriate after your last encounter?
"you're a... big fan of the beer, i'm guessing?" he remarks as he's observing your hands; one holding an empty can, and the other reaching out for a new can.
"it's not as bad as i thought," you respond curtly.
as you're pulling back the tab on the new can, you think to yourself. if you want to make this plan work, you've got to kill the awkward tension. and so, your mind jumps to the only topic you can think of.
"who's that girl you were talking to?"
mark seems to be surprised; were you asking him? after a brief moment of silence, a recognition slips out of him, "oh," he shrugs, "she was just saying how she always wanted to race and, stuff like that." he seemed to have caught himself rambling, and stopped before he went on any further.
"sounds like she was hitting on you," you shoot a quick look in his direction as you take a small chug from your can.
he gently shakes his head, eyes fixed on the bottle clasped between his hands, "no, she was just being friendly."
"mh," you're watching mark now. "so, not another one of your conquests?"
mark truly looks puzzled, if he's not, then he's doing great acting like he is with that expression on his face. you can practically read his internal monologue at this very second: what are you talking about?
"i'm not... picking up on what you're saying, exactly."
you have to turn this around somehow. but how? in your mind, this is already botched. go home, you ruined it.
"i just..." you set down your can on the table in front of you. one thing that obnoxiously loud house music is good for is filling in the spaces of silence as you think about what to say next to him. "i guess, i'm just thinking about the other day."
at this moment, you piqued mark's interest. he looks at you with a glint in his eyes. "about that," he turns his body to face you, "look, i'm so sorry- i didn't mean to misread the situation and-"
"you didn't."
mark's lips are still left slightly parted, frozen from his last words. confusion strikes him again.
"i'm sorry- you didn't," for whatever reason, you can't look into his eyes, but you continue anyway, "just in that moment, it was so..."
the bass had been booming since the moment you stepped foot into this house but right at that second, it blared even louder—you didn't even know that that was possible. you can physically feel your heart in your chest jumping each time it thundered.
mark wears an agitated expression from this sudden change in atmosphere, and now, you practically had to yell out to even hear another person standing a foot away from you.
he gestured toward the window outside, mouthed something along the lines of, "wanna head out?" and you followed. mark grabs ahold of your hand, leading you through the horde of sweaty, sticky people until he finally pulls you outside. though, you're not completely free from the roaring bass, you can at least rest your ear drums for a bit.
mark exhales, air puffing up his cheeks. "you were saying?" he turns his gaze towards you, and it strikes you as the perfect time now.
your features twist in a manner of disarray—"i think i have a headache from that whole... situation." you press the inner wrist of your right hand up against your temple.
mark takes one step closer towards you, "are you alright?" he tilts his head to get a better look of your expression.
"yeah, i think i just need to get somewhere quiet," you wave the concern in his voice away.
"do you want me to take you home?"
for a second, you would've agreed, but then you thought back, and you don't think your apartment's in any state to be seen right now.
you give a brief shake of your head, wrist still pinned to your temple. "no, not right now," you say, hoping that he wouldn't ask for an elaboration.
"um, i can take you to my place if you don't mind?"
not wanting to give away too much of your act, you agree hesitantly. "is that alright with you?"
"yeah, of course," and he leads you to his car.
he'd insisted on you waiting out where you were so that you didn't have to walk all the way to his car, but he also didn't feel right about making you wait on your own, so he guided you to where he'd parked, each of his steps designed to match your pace.
...
the ride to his place was quiet, but not uncomfortable. it was a quick drive, but even so every now and then he would look over to make sure you're not too out of it.
he unlocked the door to his apartment, and it was beautiful to say the least; much more kempt than yours. it was mainly one big room with the bathroom tucked away somewhere in the corner. floor to ceiling windows lined the walls facing the entrance door and his bed laid in the centre of the room, facing the windows with a view of the cityscape.
you drag your feet inside, trying to hide at least some bit of your awe.
mark's voice snaps you out of it a little, "do you want some water? anything?"
"i don't mean to have you take care of me," you look back at mark, a tiny spark of guilt igniting within you.
"it's just water, yn," he chuckles as he goes to grab a glass off of his drying rack and pours you some water. "if you want you can rest a bit in my bed."
you're not sure what it is, but it's like you're seeing another version of mark; another side to him. his generosity takes you by surprise and as you take the glass from his hands, wanting to extinguish that guilt, drinking from it only makes the flame grow stronger.
you're stood by the counter, him being only a few steps away from you. the kitchen lights are off, the entirely of his apartment dimly lit with ambience lighting being the only sources of light.
you watch mark's face. the parts of it that are in light, and the other parts that are in shadow. his lips are illuminated by the light along with the right side of his face. maybe the alcohol has gotten to you, or maybe it's your raw, unfiltered desire, but you reach out with the back of your fingers and gently caress the sunken plane under his cheekbone. he seems to melt at even a trace of your touch. he takes ahold of your hand with his, and brings it down.
you take half a step closer towards him, eyes lingering on his.
"what are you doing?" he whispers breathily, eyelids fluttering.
you lean in the slightest bit closer, eyes focused on mark's lips and that was all the invitation mark needed to press his lips onto yours.
he's slow, and gentle. he takes your lips into his with a softness you hadn't expected. one hand goes to cup your face and the other wraps around your waist, pulling you closer into him. he savours every second that your lips are on his, and every time they part, he would go in deeper so as to not forget the taste of your lips on his tongue.
he kisses you with a deep, deep hunger. his hands, too. they roam every inch of your back, pulling you into him as close as you possibly can be until your chests are pressed against each other. you go to wrap your arms tightly around his neck, fingers tangled in his hair, and it's still not enough. you need to breathe him in as if he is the very oxygen that your life depended on.
he pulls away with a smack from your lips. panting heavily, he begins to breathe out, "do you-?"
"yes." whatever he would've said, you knew you wouldn't have denied him.
"are you sure you want this?" he asks again, still breathing heavily with his chest rising and falling against yours.
you give a quick nod of your head, "just kiss me again."
and so he does. mark devours your lips with a newfound lustfulness; pressing onto your lips a little bit harder than before, even biting down on your bottom lip, eliciting a curse out of you.
his hands slide all the way down to your thighs, and he grips tightly onto them as he lifts you up to around his hips. you wrap your legs around him, without breaking away from your kiss. you can feel the two of you moving, but your eyes remain shut.
mark once again pulls back from you, eyes looking right through you with a need to devour. he drops you onto his bed but his hands stays on you. one of them runs up... and then down the underside of your thigh. you're leering at him, desperate for him to touch you more, explore you more, and he can tell.
he kneels down, hands still gripping onto your thighs, and he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. he pushes your legs open, making space for himself in between your thighs. "take this off for me, baby," he utters quickly, impatiently, as he taps on your upper thigh, veiled by the thin fabric of your skirt.
you respond not with words, but with the speed of which the skirt is stripped off of you—eager to please, eager to be pleased.
his fingertips settle into a crook on either sides of your upper thigh as he's pulling you closer to him. you can feel his breath sticking to your skin. every second that he's not touching you, you're aching. the tip of his tongue glides over your panties and you shudder at his movements. you're growing more and more impatient with his obvious teasing as the desire within you becomes harder and harder to fulfil. "fuck, mark," you curse him for purposefully not removing the barrier standing in between you and pleasure. you hear him chuckle, and a word from you is enough to get him to oblige, for now. he pushes the fabric of your panties to the side, baring your slit on full display for him.
"god," he breathes out, and you can feel his breath fan out on your pussy. and in a second, his tongue is licking circle after circle over your clit, exploring between your every fold. he's losing himself in eating you out. he can't help but groan against every buck of your hip, and every time, it sends vibrations that seep into your skin. "you taste so fucking good," he mumbles out. in between the insatiable movements of his tongue against your cunt, he would plant soft kisses onto your folds—the contrast of it all driving you absolutely crazy.
a mixture of his drool and you is running down his chin, but that's nowhere near enough to stop him. the thought of having you dripping down him turns him on even more. your hands are grabbing at fistfuls of mark's hair. with a single swirl of his tongue, you suddenly jerk too hard and he moans against the fiery sensation pulling on his scalp. you try to fight against the urge to push him deeper into you, both of your arms and legs shaking at this point.
as you begin to feel a clench in your stomach, mark uses his hand to separate your legs that are threatening to close together, "keep your legs open for me, baby." you try and try, but you can't help the pressure that's building between your thighs. you bite down on your lip, trying not to let mark hear any of the embarrassing moans and cries you would want nothing but to let out. and just as you're so close to your orgasm, mark takes his tongue off of you.
he stands up again, using the back of his hand to wipe his chin.
"what the fuck-?" you bite out. a bit dazed, but you know enough that that wasn't the release you wanted.
mark coos at you with feigned sympathy, "aw, poor baby." he plants one palm onto the mattress as he leans in, hovering over you. "don't you want to taste yourself on my lips?"
you pull yourself out of your haze, latching your lips onto his. his thumb drags along your jawline. mark hums against your kiss, "you turn me on so goddamn much." he climbs over you, his entire body hovering over yours, and your hands grip at his waist before flipping him under you. he looks surprised, a delighted smirk drips on his mouth. "you had that in you the whole time?"
you reply brusquely, "lose the shirt already," not up for any more teasing tonight.
"bossy," he utters, but complies without hesitation.
you place your hands directly on top of the waistline of his jeans, positioning yourself so that you're sat directly on top of the bulge in his pants. a tiny moan escapes you. mark watches you with a satisfaction glistening in his eyes, "can you feel how hard i am for you?"
you would grind down on his bulge until you gave yourself the release that he owed you if it weren't for the roughness of his jeans. frustrated, you moved yourself further down his lap and impatiently worked the zipper on his pants, pulling them down until his hard cock sprung up hot and red. you ignore the watering in your mouth at the sight of his dick, too eager to feel it inside you.
you wrap your fingers around his cock along the base of it, giving it a tiny squeeze before you slide your hand up his shaft. mark watches with a furrow in his brow and grumblings stuck in his throat. he doesn't want to take his eyes off of you for even one second. you give his cock a few more strokes, so, so painfully slow, though. then, using just your middle and ring finger, you run it up on the side of his dick, reaching the tip, and you drag small little circles over on top of it—spreading his precum all over. mark breathes out a repeated string of curse words as you begin to apply more pressure to his head.
holding back a sly smirk, you take your hand away from mark. you get up on your knees, still straddling him, and you extend your hand out in front of mark's face. "spit on it."
he follows your words without even having the chance to think about challenging you. he is so, so eager to please you. you bring your hand with his spit up to your own chest and you do the same. you smear the two of you all over his cock, applying more pressure with each stroke now than before. his hands goes to grip tightly on your hips, fingertips already digging into your flesh.
you position yourself so that you're hovering directly over mark's big, hard cock, twitching under you. reaching under you, you can feel the tip of his erection resting against your cunt. you drag your hips in a back and forth motion, sliding his head up and down your slit. mark throws his head back, groaning and whining, "fuck, baby- please." you have to admit, the sight of him absolutely unravelling under you is the sexiest fucking thing you've ever seen. "please, please, please," he blurts out a few more pleads..
"what do you want me to do, huh?"
"please, just ride me," he mumbles, words just tumbling out of his mouth at this point. and who are you to deny such a polite request?
you sink down on mark's cock, with each inch you can feel your core beginning to shake. the two of you moaned and groaned with a shared pleasure. a gasp whacks itself out of you as you fully sit down on his cock, taking every inch of him.
mark bites down on his lip, pleasure overriding him, "look at that." he throws his head back, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth, "you're taking all of me." his hand palming over your ass in a way that you can tell he wants to just pick you up and bounce you on his cock.
you start moving your hips gently, still letting yourself adjust to his size. with every whimper that you let out, mark goes absolutely crazy—he wanted to hear you, he wanted that so badly.
and deciding that he needed more, his hands goes to lift your hips up from him and he pins you back down underneath him. his erection now rested atop your thigh, dragging over your skin as he goes to whisper in your ear, "you tell me if it's too much, okay?" you nod, eyes lingering on each other.
he looks downwards, aligning himself with your entrance. he doesn't waste any more time and-
"fuck!"
you cry out, with the first thrust of his hips into you. mark stops and watches your expression for a second before he rams his hips into you again.
he picks up the pace, hips smacking into yours at a steady rhythm. the sloppiness of the two of you filled the room with the melodies of your moans.
"shit, baby," disjointed thoughts fell out of his mouth one after another, moans peppered throughout. as he thrusted himself in and out of you, all he could do was whisper next to your ear how good you felt.
as he kept on thrusting into you, it wasn't long before you can feel that pressure building up again. "fuck, i'm so close," you pant out breathily to mark.
"yeah?"
he pounds into you even harder and harder, making you want to scream out his name but you fight against it.
"don't hold back, baby," he grunted, "i want you to get fucking loud for me."
however embarrassing the noises you made were, you didn't care anymore. you just wanted to feel good with mark's cock dragging in and out of you and you wanted him to know how fucking good it felt. you moan out, alternating between 'fuck,' his name, and pure cries of ecstasy. you slither your hand down in between you two, rubbing violent circles on your clit just so you can reach that orgasm you so badly wanted faster.
you can feel your core tightening around mark. you try to tell him but your mind is gone, only leaving behind unintelligible moans.
"you gonna cum for me?" mark teased, his hips still ramming into you at the same pace, "come on, then. cum on my cock, baby."
even at the slight of his request, you begin to fall apart. your muscles tensing up, fingertips digging into his back and your head thrown back as you reach your orgasm. you scream out in pleasure.
"that's it, baby- good girl," mark's hips are still thrusting into yours, though at a slower pace, fucking you through your orgasm. "god," he looks down to see you clenching around him so tightly that it propels him into his own orgasm. "oh, fuck- i'm gonna cum-"
and just as he does, he pulls himself out of you as he shoots his load all over your stomach. still coming down from the high of your own orgasm, you feel an aching void now in between your legs. mark grunts and collapses his head into the crook of your neck, trying to steady his breath as he milks all the cum out of him onto you.
the air is sticky between you two, heavy breathing filling the silence. mark flops onto his bed next to you, one hand covering his forehead.
"are you okay?" he looks over at you.
"yeah," you breathe out, catching your breath.
"good," he mutters as he reaches out to cup your face in his hand. "come here," he pulls the two of you closer on the bed. then, he returns to kissing you ever so gently, his fingers on the back of your neck and his thumb resting in front of your ear. "let's get you cleaned up."
...
you're sitting on mark's bed in a fresh new t-shirt that he gave you, drinking from the glass of water that he also gave you. mark is in the bathroom, cleaning himself off.
now that the heat of the moment's gone, you're not too sure what just happened. what does this all mean? because believe it or not, your original plan with haechan did not include jumping mark's bones.
mark walks out of the bathroom, sweatpants on with a thin white tee. he throws a towel over his shoulder, his hair wet from his shower. you watch as he walks over to his kitchen to grab another glass of water for himself.
he approaches the bed—you—and truly, you did not know if you should address some of your concerns with him. so, what are we? or is this a one time thing? you should've known that this would make you spiral.
he sits down right next to you after setting down his glass on his bedside table. "are you sure you're okay?"
to be met with a consideration like that shocked you a little, when you yourself didn't even think to ask him that. "yeah, why wouldn't i be?" you try to dismiss his worry and concern.
"you just looked a little shaken up- that's all." he watches you for a moment longer before turning his head. you look over at the clock on top of his bedside table: 11:17pm. it's still not too late, you can go home if you wanted, to run away from the consequences of your own actions, but what then? you're still going to see mark tomorrow at the closing race, and leaving now would just make everything the more awkward.
as if he read your mind, mark voices out, "stay the night," he's not looking at you as he says this, "stay with me," but now he is. his hand reaches over and clasps over the back of your hand, giving it a tiny squeeze.
you were about to protest, "don't you know what tomorrow is?" but of course he knew. so instead, you mumble out a fragile, "okay."
he crawls into bed, lifting up his covers, and he pats on the space next to him. taking that as a signal, you set the glass in your hands on your side of the bedside table, and slide in underneath the covers next to him. you pull the sheets up over your shoulders, head laying half on the pillow, half on mark's chest. mark wears a silver necklace with a cross pendant hanging from it. as he's laying down, that pendant droops down the top of his chest sliding along its chain, sitting right in front of your eyes.
you rest your hand over mark's heart, feeling every thump underneath your palm. mark breathes out loud, then he plants a kiss on your head. your fingertips fidget with his pendant.
"can i ask you something?"
mark looks down at you playing with his necklace, "sure."
"why did you start-?" you take the pendant in between your thumb and your pointer finger and you flip it over so the right side is facing you. "...racing?"
you thought you'd knew what was not the answer: money. living in a place like this—no doubt it wasn't cheap.
mark hums. he shifts his body so that he's now laying on the back of his head on top of his hand. "i like it," he drawls.
you tilt your head up to look at him, without a word, saying that's it?
he continues, "my uncle used to do it." he has one arm wrapped around you and you begin to feel a gentle tapping on your shoulder from his fingers. "it's something i can do to remember him by."
before he even lets you contemplate what to say to that that's not "i'm so sorry for your loss," again, he reflects the question back onto you.
"what about you?" he tucks his chin inwards, looking at you lying on his chest. "tell me about your big goals and ambitions," you can tell he's trying to lighten the mood with the way his voice carried an airiness to it.
"mmh, i like it as well," you say, "and it'd be nice to not have to rely on working at that convenience store." you catch yourself in an unexpected moment of unbridled honesty.
you didn't mind it so much—mark. you didn't mind telling him more about yourself; something about being in his arms made you feel like the world was small, and only the two of you are in it.
"for what it's worth, you're my favourite cashier," mark smiled a skittish smile.
"how many cashiers do you know?"
"two."
"i guess i'll take that."
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NEW YEAR'S EVE, 10AM
you wake up the next morning with an ache in your neck. you raise your head from mark's chest from the night prior. he's asleep.
as quietly as you can, you slide your body out of mark's bed. as soon as you're up on your feet, the scent of mark's cologne hits you—his shirt.
immediately, you get to scavenging for your clothes that got strewn all over the apartment last night in a frenzy. haechan had given you something the night before, and you hid it in the pocket of your skirt—where is it?
you spot your skirt on the floor. you kneel on the floor, hands patting down every panel of the fabric, fingers dipping into every crevice. and then you feel it. something soft, but not like the softness of the skirt. you pull out a carefully folded square of tissue paper. you grip the tissue tightly in your hands, crumpling the square.
you pull your clothes up from the floor and quickly change back into them, shedding out of mark's t-shirt that you toss onto his bed.
tissue still in your hand, your head snaps toward mark—lying there, still asleep. then, your attention turns to the glass next to him. it was half full last night, now it's filled up again. he must've refilled it in the middle of the night.
you look back in your hand. then, at his glass. you close your fingers tightly, folding the tissue paper into itself, and you can feel two distinct pellet shapes pressing into your palm through the paper.
there's no way you can even contemplate this, right?
you recall your conversation with haechan just the previous night, before all of this happened:
"you want me to-?"
"no. whatever you're gonna say- no. well..."
"this is insane," you remembered exclaiming in the living room of haechan's apartment.
"2's barely enough to knock him out, much less kill him," haechan started to sound unhinged trying to rationalise this idea to you. "he'd just be too out of it, he won't show up to closing tomorrow, and boom. you're winning, guaranteed."
your mouth is agape, mind completely blank. there's no way you're willing to drug someone for a race. you may not be the most humble, yes, but being immoral?
haechan seems to have given up trying to convince you, "look, just take it with you. whether you use it or not, it's up to you."
and now you're staring at your closed palm, shocked that you're even hesitating to up and leave right now, when you're given the chance.
they're just sleeping pills. you can hear your thoughts merge with haechan's rationale.
no, no, no, no, no. you have to leave.
you have to leave right now, before doing something you're going to regret.
you contemplated throwing the pills away still wrapped up in the tissue here, at mark's place. but if he finds them, what is he going to think? so, you shove it back inside of the pocket of your skirt, rush to grab whatever you'd taken here with you last night, and hurried off.
...
luckily enough, mark didn't live too far away from where haechan lived, and as you make your way out of the lobby, you can recognise where you are in the city.
you walk the few blocks it takes to get to haechan's place.
bright and early, you knock on his door for once—you didn't bring his key with you last night.
you wait outside for a minute or two, before deciding to knock again. this time, calling out for his name as well.
then, an alert pings through on your phone. a text. from haechan
'you're scaring my hookup.'
before you can type out a response, haechan appears in front of you as his apartment door swings open.
"so, where's the hookup?" you step in, making sure your voice is loud and clear—you know haechan too well.
"she climbed out the window, she was so scared," haechan yawns. his hair messy and his glasses slanted on his nose bridge. "so, what happened?"
you draw out the crumpled piece of tissue from your pocket and hold it up like you're putting it on display for him.
"i knew you weren't going to do it—i'm talking about your outfit. you clearly didn't go home last night... what happened?"
oh, you thought, shit. maybe you should've changed first before coming here. now you have to come up with a logical cover-up, or tell haechan the truth of what happened—you don't know what's worse.
"i guess... i was the hookup who climbed out the window or something, i don't know," you mutter under your breath, trying to shrug it off nonchalantly but you can see haechan's jaw drop.
"oh, my god, yn," a sense of pride booming through in his tone, "look at you turning over a new leaf. sleeping with the competition?" he gives a slight shake of his body that makes you immediately regret your decision to tell him.
"no, it had nothing to do with that," you shake your head, "i don't know."
haechan looks at you with a certain look, one that has his eyebrows raised and one that tells you 'i don't believe you.' "whatever you say~" he mocks. "you're ready for closing tonight, though, right?"
"yeah, i think i am."
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NEW YEAR'S EVE, 11PM
you haven't spoken to mark today, yet. you've never exchanged phone numbers, or any social medias now that you think of it.
you spent the day tirelessly getting yourself ready, both physically and mentally, for the big closing race tonight. tonight's the night. tonight is what you've been looking forward to all year. the culmination with 100k on the line. practically double your annual pay all in one night. you don't want to sound shallow, but you don't want to disregard that this could have a genuine impact on your life.
you're familiarising yourself with the streets tucked away in another quiet part of the city. as you're walking through intersections and making turns at the corners, you hear a sudden blast of feedback.
"hello, testing."
the voice is not too loud but strong enough. you decide that you need to put your mind to rest, and walking, roaming these streets weren't going to do that. you make your way back to where the majority of people are; at the finishing line. crowds of onlookers haven't manifested yet, but soon these streets will be full of people, chanting and cheering either at your loss or your triumph.
although you have a few years of experience under your belt, it was this year that rapidly shot you into notability. last year, you also attended a closing race—your first closing race—but your performance wasn't the most remarkable. you had less to lose then. but since then, you've gained more and more recognition, more credibility. it'd be crushing if you had a repeat of what happened last year.
time seems like a blur. before you know it, there's 10 minutes left until the race. tradition was that it begins right as the clock strucks midnight, cars speeding off into the new year. and now you're standing off to the side, watching 11:50 statically on your lock screen.
a group of people heading for one direction catches your attention. the other racers. they're all already getting into their cars, you suppose you should, too.
there's a certain melancholy within you. there shouldn't be, right? tonight's the big night. but you can't fight this feeling away.
you crouch into your car. your previous performances earning you a spot right in front of the starting line; a huge advantage.
you shake off your wrists, cracking one side of your neck, then the other. your fingers grip onto your steering wheel tightly. to your right, you spot minjeong already looking at you, a sweet smile on her face. you turn your focus back onto yourself.
you know what to expect. the 'announcer'—not official, but whatever—will give you a 10 second warning. then, along with the crowd, they'll all count down to the new year from 3, and from there, it's all you.
you still haven't seen mark around, yet, you have no idea what spot he would be in. as you're attempting to get a deep breath into you, the 10 second warning comes... then...
"and everyone! 3!"
"2!"
"1!"
you had your foot already on the gas before '1' was chanted, so once you heard the signal, you shift your gear and you race off onto the meandering street. cheers erupt behind you, but you're already too far gone to hear the choruses of "happy new years!" clearly.
the velocity at which you're racing at forces and pins you against your seat. the grip on your steering wheel tightens. before you knew it, the adrenaline kicks in. minjeong isn't next to you, and you don't have time to check behind you.
you tell yourself you don't care. you don't care where your opponents are at, as long as you're first.
and so, you put yourself in the forefront of your mind. the beginning's gone pretty smoothly so far.
just as you're about to fly past a speed bump, you hear a long beep from behind you. as your tyres land, jolting you in your seat, you flash a quick glance at your rearview mirror. you can barely make out the person's face, but you recognised the car as mark's. shit. and what was he thinking—honking at you—is this a joke to him?
he's following closely behind you, you don't know exactly how close but the audience does. he tails directly behind you as you zoom past the horizontal road running through the starting intersection. for a second, you can hear the collective shouts and hollering as you speed past the crowd. the announcer makes some comment on—you're assuming—how close mark is to you, but you can't hear.
you're nearing the incline, the part of the course that spirals up, then leads back down again reconnecting into the main streets. you press onto your pedal harder to maintain your speed even as you're driving up at an angle. mark is catching up, the front of his car now aligned with where the edge of your door is. you twist your steering wheel, turning way sharper than necessary, but that's the only way you can think of to gain some more ground on mark.
you're going back down now, and the finish line isn't far. one more turn, and it's a straight line to the end. the revving of mark's engine is still within earshot.
approaching the turn, you push your steering wheel down to the left, your body swinging in the opposite direction. you can see the horde of people at the end of the street, now just a blended blob to you, about 100m away.
you glance back at your rearview, and just at that moment, mark looks to have overdone his turn. he quickly recovers from it, but you've gained at least 2 seconds from that, and even a split second matters.
you had it.
the adrenaline now courses all throughout your body, and it's like you get deja vu from that make-pretend race you had with just mark. you step on your gas as hard as you can, like you did before... and you blitz past the finish line. mark, too, right behind you.
you slowly release the pressure on your pedal and you can hear the fanfare in the not-so-far distance. finally, you feel like you can take a breath.
you pull off into the parking lot reserved for the candidates, the whole time with mark following you. there's no spectators around this area. you come to a halt, your body forced forwards before leaning back into your seat again.
you hop out of your vehicle, a jittery feeling arising within you. you'd just won, but you're not sure if that's the sole reason for your giddiness.
mark pops his door open and practically jumps out at you, launching himself towards you with his arms open. "you did it!" mark exclaims. you jump onto him and he catches you, arms tight around your waist.
"oh, my god," you pant, still in disbelief.
"you did it, yn," mark repeats. his smile beaming so brightly.
you look down at him, eyes glimmering, and you can't hold yourself back from kissing him. you take his lips into yours and you wish in that moment that you can stay like that for eternity.
"mark, i-" you're at a loss for words, truly. he puts you down onto the ground again. you exhale.
"you did it, baby," he leans down to peck your cheek softly.
you don't know how to feel. there's a wild range of emotions within you that you can't comprehend all at once.
"go on, they're all waiting for their winner out there. go and celebrate," there's a sweetness in the melody of his voice.
you grab onto mark's hand.
everything else, you're not too sure about, yet, but right now, you want to share this moment with him.
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