#and even more done with my parents who just sit around and watch and allow

[icouldbeluckyagain]

.

[lunarluvbot]

saturday sun

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

pairing : percy jackson x fem!reader

summary : a little surprise percy springs on you turns out to be one of the best afternoons at camp. or maybe that's just because you're with him?

requested : yes / no

willow's whispers : first pjo writing cause everything i see is for luke so if you want something done right you gotta do it yourself !! also im pretty sure this can be read for any godly parent. based on the song saturday sun by vance joy. I WROTE THIS IN ONE SITTING SO YOU'RE NOT ALLOWED TO JUDGE HOW BAD OR SHORT IT IS. I'm building up for my big fics.

warnings : literally nothing this is the most boring fic ever

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

"Where are we going?" You laughed, blindly following Percy as he helped you over a fallen log.

"Oh, just somewhere you'll love," He said, and winked. "At least I hope you do. Anyways, c'mon!"

The pair of you marched through the woods of the camp, laughing, talking, teasing, and enjoying moments of silence. The sun blinked lazily between branches of giant pine trees as if Apollo was comfortably stretching out on his throne.

"Here, stop here." Percy turned to you and gave you that smile that made you fall in love a little more every time you saw it. If that was even possible. "There's a pathway over here, be careful 'cause there's a lotta rocks over here."

You followed him once again, down a narrow sloping hill and arrived on a shoreline. A small oasis even. It looked like it hadn't been touched in years, moss grew over everything, the grass was bright and stood tall as if no one's footsteps had ever crushed them down yet. Waves gently lapped the rocks and few shells scattered across the ground.

"Wow," You breathed, almost as if your normal volume would disturb this angelic peace. "When did you find this, Perce?"

Percy, who was flattening the weeds to sit on, looked up. "Huh? Oh, two days ago. During capture the flag. Then I came back yesterday to make sure some monster didn't live here and now I'm showing it to you," He finished setting up his bed that would make any Demeter kid cringe. "C'mere," Percy motioned for you to lay next to him.

You smiled and made your way over to him, easing yourself down on his patch of grass. The two of you were on your stomachs, watching the water swirl into memorizing, glittering, patterns. A sweet silence filled the air.

But the water wasn't what Percy was interested in. He just kept his eyes on you, admiring the way your face lit up when you heard your favorite bird call. The way your eyes seemed to shine in the golden god's light. The smooth curve of your lips that twitched when you smiled.

You met his eyes, the sea-green hue a painting of where the sky and the sea meet.

"Do I have something on my face?" You asked, lightly teasing him to pretend you weren't about to do the same staring as he was doing now.

Percy's eyes glinted and the wisps of his hair caught the sunlight perfectly. "No, you're just the prettiest girl I've ever seen. Art's gotta be appreciated right?"

"I guess but shouldn't I be asking you that?"

"Aw hey, quit stealing my line!" He said, poking your stomach. A giggle escaped you, one Percy knew he would fight any number of monsters to hear again.

"It's not your line! Where's your copyright claim?"

Instead of answering right away, Percy wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you close. He tucked a fly-away strand of hair out of your face and pressed his lips gently to yours. It felt like the first breath of spring, when the flowers peek from their earthly shield and remind the world that only precious things take time.

"It's right here."

And he kisses you again.

[runningfrom2am]

the death of a doctor // LTPF

summary: with the snow heir on the way, your first son, your father wants to meet with you for the first time in years. your husband is not going to let that happen.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 1.4k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: capitol brat!reader, maybe slightly ooc coryo, idk i tried my best. use of poison with intent to kill, murder. also this takes place ten years after they returned to the capitol!

series masterlist // playlist

Your father is led through the extensive halls of the Presidential Mansion and out to the back gardens, into the rose garden where he is set to meet with you. Finally.

He's not met with you, and he should have anticipated that. His daughter, pregnant with her first child- a little boy, who should one day be heir to the President's fortune, born into a life of success and indulgences beyond imagination. Instead, he only sees his son-in-law.

"Please, take a seat." Coriolanus offers to him, a welcoming smile on his face as he gestures to the small tea table in the middle of the space. It was a fake smile, of course. Your father has seen it on the television or at events hundreds of times, but Coriolanus Snow would always try to be a good host- regardless of how much he loathed the guest in question.

"Thank you." Your father matches his polite grin, nodding to him before taking a seat. His eyes scan the greenhouse, taking in the abundance of roses and the patches of raspberry bushes that line the walls.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Coryo says proudly, carefully plucking one of the white roses from its stem to place in the centre of the tea table. "My wife takes good care of this garden, it's in honour of my Grandmother. They both love roses." He explains, not giving your father any chance to answer.

"It's lovely." He nods in agreement, watching as his son-in-law places the blooming flower in a vase on the table, sitting down himself and looking at your father expectantly. "Where is she?" Your father decides to get right to the point- no use dancing around it anymore.

"She's out." Coriolanus answers. "She's with Tigris. They're picking out colours for the nursery today."

"I was told I would be able to speak to her."

"I am capable of passing on a message."

Your father sighs, looking down and shaking his head. "Coriolanus, I appreciate everything you have done for my daughter over the years, I do, but that girl needs her family. Her parents. Especially right now. We just want to be able to support her during such an exciting and scary time."

"She has a family." Coryo defends quickly. He had never thought the situation to be scary, before. It was all excitement and parties and baby clothes and being together and enjoying the moments in which she carried his child. Suddenly, he's seeing it differently. His mother. His sister who was never even given a name. You were not free from that fate. He clears his throat. "And I assure you, she is well taken care of here. We have the best medical care the country offers available at the snap of my fingers." He says it more to remind himself.

"No, she doesn't." Your father argues, a smug smile tugging on his lips. She doesn't have him. The most renowned and desired doctor in the Capitol, in the country.

"She does." Coryo insists. "I know what you are implying, and I promise you are mistaken."

"I just want to make things right, Coriolanus." Your father adds. "I want to apologize so my wife can be there for the birth of her grandchild, so I can take good care of my daughter and ensure she is safe."

"She is safe."

Your father clocks the tenseness in your husbands jaw very quickly. "I know about your mother." His tone drops to make space for a fake form of empathy. "I knew her. She was an amazing woman and a wonderful mother. It's such a shame, what happened..." He ticks his head. "So easily preventable."

"Then where were you?" Coriolanus allows himself to lean into something more personal with the bitter question.

"I wasn't called. I wish I had been." Your father answers honestly. "Both of us know your family was in no position to pay for a doctor at the time, even with your father away working himself to death in Twelve."

Coryo chews on the inside of his cheek, looking down at the untouched drinks in between them.

"Maybe things would have ended differently for all of us."

"You speak as if you are some kind of angel." Coryo scoffs. "You still would have gone home from saving my mother and sister and beat your own daughter for being up past her bedtime, but you didn't come because my mother's life was worth nothing to you if you weren't going to be paid to save it." He picks up the teacup in front of him, taking a sip before removing it from his lips and looking down at the liquid. "My apologies, this one is yours. I asked for milk in mine." He says casually, carefully switching the cups. He can see it in your father's eyes he wants to fight with him on this.

"The war made it impossible to do any unpaid work, and like I said, I wasn't made aware of your mother's state. Besides, Y/N is my child, and you know nothing of what goes into being a parent. It is hard. You'll have moments of poor judgement and do things you will regret. You will make mistakes. That is all it was to me." Your father explains. "But I know better now. All I want is to help her."

"You don't want to help her." Coryo shakes his head. "I am telling you she has all the help she needs, and you are not needed. Your wife and son will be allowed in the mansion during the birth. It is my wife's choice when and if they will be allowed to see the child." He knew you would allow it, you occasionally had lunch with your mother and your brother found himself at the mansion quite often to use their library. They were welcome, he was not.

Your father takes a sip of his tea while he processes the information. "Is that her decision, or yours?"

"Like I said, I can pass on a message to her." Your husband replies, ignoring his question and popping one of the raspberries from the plate into his mouth and sitting back, hands placed patiently on his lap while he ignores the pain starting to bloom in his chest.

"Tell her..." Your father sighs. "That we love her, and we miss her dearly. And if she needs anything or feels unsafe, she can always come home."

"Unsafe?" Coryo asks, tilting his head with a slight, humourless laugh. "I know you don't care for me, sir, but I am the last person on this planet who would do anything to harm her. It seems you're not understanding that."

"I just want her to survive." Your father spits. "If you love her the way you say you do, don't you want her to be the one to successfully produce your heir? You would hate to have to find someone else, I know you would. Especially if the love of your life died in the same way as your mother, this time taking your child with her."

Coriolanus stands up abruptly, anger coursing through his veins alongside the poison as the chair slides back behind him. "You've never believed in her. Ever. Even now you assume that at the most natural struggle she will die. This is not about my doctors, it is about your ego and how little you respect your own child because of how you raised her. She has more fight in her than any woman I have ever met. You don't even know the extent of it."

"It's because I know her, Coriolanus. I..." Your father's voice trails off and he looks down at his shaking hands. He knows what Coriolanus has done, but there's nothing he can do to save himself now.

"You don't know her. You never have." Coryo argues. "You have never once reached out except to try and leach off of her success and my name. You couldn't care less if she lives or dies- you just want to be the one to deliver a royal baby. If you knew her, you would know that the last thing in the world she wants is to ever see you again."

He watches as your father's face goes ashen, the sentience behind his eyes disappearing. It brings a smile to his face. "You are a monster." He adds, and it's the last thing your father hears before he dies right there in your garden.

Coriolanus smiles in satisfaction, raising his hand and snapping for his security and his nurse to enter. Quickly, she reaches for his arm as he already rolled up his sleeve and she can inject the antidote.

"Dispose of him." He urges the security team, quickly pulling his red coat sleeve back over the injection site in his arm. "My wife will be home soon, this would be distressing for her. I need her as calm and comfortable as possible."

taglist: @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @klplynn , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @gloryekaterina , @andrewgarfieldsbitch , @queenofspades6 , @pepperonipastas , @ladybug0095 , @lunamothwrites , @sbrewer21 , @mus-tbe-a-weasley , @splxtscreen , @unclecrunkle , @karmaswitch , @coconut-dreamz , @nekee-lilac02 , @ooooglymoooogly , @riddlerloveb0t , @lovedbalances , @notyourwildestdream , @snowlandson-top , @too-lit-for-fanfic , @utopiakys , @deafeningballoonnacho , @roosterschanelslut , @chmpgneprblem , @cosmoetik , , @urvampgfsworld , @carolanns-world@nan-nie , @shakespearseclipse , @iovemoonyy , @notyoursweetheart-honey ,  @xyzstar , @eatpizzasass, @slytherinholland , @queenofshinigamis , @elodiebeau , @soulessjourney

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: Being a perpetual people-pleaser meant that you were constantly putting others before yourself--particularly your parents and the eccentric guests who stayed at their motel. But when a surly and mysterious musician checked in indefinitely, he flipped your whole world on its head. (3.1k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ A/N: Thank you to my numerous beta readers, including but not limited to @the-unforgivenn, @lofaewrites, @lokis-army-77, and @corroded-hellfire, and to @hellfire--cult for the divider. I am forever indebted to y'all.

chapter one: room for one more

It was always the quiet nights, wasn't it? The ones where the only sounds came from cars barreling down Queens Boulevard and splashing through puddles left by an earlier rainstorm, or from the clock ticking on the wall. 

The ones where your mind wandered until you’d thought yourself in circles, overanalyzing every last decision you had ever made.

The ones where you allowed your guard just down enough that the slightest oddity threw you off-balance—something or someone out of place. 

It was during the quiet nights like that night where you should have expected the unexpected, because New York City never stayed still for long. 

The evening’s sluggishness was normal; tourism always slowed in the springtime. The newest shows on Broadway were already months old, not to mention the warmer weather brought both an uptick in crime and pollen count. If out-of-towners were going to schlep to the East Coast, they’d prefer to see the cherry blossoms hours south in Washington, DC than to get mugged on the 1 train. 

Business picked up in the winter months when people flocked from around the world to witness the Thanksgiving Day Parade, the Rockefeller Center Christmas tree, or Dick Clark’s Rockin’ New Year’s Eve, even though they were several bus and subway transfers away. Outsiders to the tri-state area struggled to differentiate between boroughs; it was unfortunate for them, but you counted on it to keep business alive. 

The only guests who consistently frequented your family’s motel were junkies looking for a place to shoot up away from the NYPD’s watchful gaze or affair-havers who were considerate enough not to sully their marriage beds—just their vows. You were in no position to judge; their money was what kept the lights on, but it was impossible not to compare your clientele to the suits who stayed at the Marriott down the street. They wouldn‘t even allow homeless folks to sit within twenty-five feet of the building, let alone stay under their roof.

You leaned on the desk, wood grain pinching your elbows. You tapped your pencil against your textbook as you read, its margins cluttered with notes about different types of parent-child attachment styles. 

Sleep prickled at the corners of your eyes, blurring the words on the page in front of you. Focus. 

Secure attachment occurs when—no, you’d already read this line. Twice. 

“Dammit,” you muttered under your breath, gently slapping your cheeks in a futile attempt to stay awake. Taking a full course load instead of your usual part-time was your academic advisor’s ill-conceived idea, bolstered by the prospect of an earlier graduation. In your haste, you’d neglected to consider two important factors: all of your studying now had to be done during your night shifts, and graduating meant telling your parents a truth they were unready to hear. 

They were so proud of the motel, regardless of its reputation. It might as well have been The Plaza from the way your dad boasted about it. The three of you shared an unspoken understanding that you worked the front desk because paying an actual employee would put them under. Maybe if finances weren’t so tight, you could have freely admitted that your future plans didn’t involve taking over the business. 

Your eyelids fluttered shut as your head rested on your book, a small puddle of drool pooling atop Bowlby’s theories. 

Ping ping ping ping!

Time slowly stretched out before you, your conscious brain clawing its way out of its hazy fog. It took a beat for you to recognize that the incessant noise came from someone repeatedly smacking the tiny bell that sat on the desk. 

“Hey, hello?” an impatient voice called out, jolting you from your impromptu nap. You blinked away the residual sleepiness and took in the sight in front of you: a curly-haired man, likely not much older than you were, a cigarette that had been nearly smoked down to the filter tucked between his lips. He had a patched guitar case strapped to his back and clutched a black garbage bag filled with what you hoped was clothing.

“Sorry,” you grumbled, wiping the moisture from your chin. “Need a room?” 

“Mhm.” You could practically hear his eye roll: no, I just stopped by in the middle of the night for a quick chat. Fancy a cup of tea and a scone? 

He plopped the garbage bag on the ground; its soft landing and the way it wrinkled told you that whatever was inside was, thankfully, not a body.

You nodded and turned around to the wall of keys behind you. There was no shortage of rooms; the only occupied one was being rented by Phyllis, a sixty-year-old self-described ‘entertainer of gentleman’ who paid double her bill in exchange for your silence. 

He stubbed out the cigarette in the ashtray on the countertop, grinding it into the base for good measure. “How much per night?” he asked, digging into his pants pocket and pulling out a wallet held together with duct tape. 

“Fifteen.”

The man breathed out, his bangs fanning over his forehead. “Jesus.” He fished two twenties and a five from the billfold and placed them in front of you. “This should cover me until Friday, yeah?”

Nodding, you folded the bills and tucked them into the register kept under the desk, only accessible by key because of a series of break-ins during the late ‘70s.

The man lit another cigarette as you pulled out the ledger and a pen. “Name and date here,” you said, pointing to the ‘check in’ column. He took a drag before scrawling his name on the line: Eddie Munson, 5-4-93. 

“All right, you’ll be in…” you scanned the assortment of keys dangling from their hooks. The walls were thin, and this guy seemed decent enough, so you decided to spare him the theatrical sound effects of Phyllis’s room 10 endeavors. “…room 4. Make a right down the hallway, and it’ll be the second door. Can’t miss it if you try.” 

Your attempt at humor fell flat, both of you too exhausted to laugh. You strode past it, clearing your throat as if dispelling the tension. When you placed the key in his calloused palm, you couldn’t help but notice that the base of each fingertip is a half-shade paler than the rest of his skin. 

“Thanks.” Eddie mumbled. He tapped the cigarette above the ashtray, the gray flakes falling into a neat pile. His right bicep flexed underneath his denim jacket as he heaved the garbage bag over his shoulder, careful not to bang it against the guitar. 

He scuttled out of the tiny room masquerading as a lobby, shoulders hunched from the weight of the bag and of the burdens he inevitably carried. No one shows up to a motel in the middle of the night without a story or two. 

After years of greeting guests at the front desk, you liked to think you had a decent read on them. Eddie was quiet, maybe even introspective, but not necessarily shy. He was tired; no, more than that: he was worn down, like so many other people who had come through these doors. 

Most importantly, Eddie didn’t seem like he'd be much trouble. He didn’t stumble in wasted and reeking of booze or fidgeting as he awaited a fix. He wasn’t shouting or poorly concealing a wandering eye or making lewd comments. He’d made pretty much no impression at all besides being a bit gruff, which was just fine with you. Your personality wasn't composed of rainbows and sunshine at this hour either.

You looked at the clock and sighed when it only read 2:17. It’s already tomorrow, you thought grimly. Just under four hours until you could walk ten feet to your room, curl up in your bed, and sleep until it was time for your afternoon class. After years of balancing school and work, you were in the last two weeks of your final semester, and then…what? You casually inform your parents that you were leaving the family business–essentially forcing them to close it–to pursue a career in social work? 

That was sure to go over well.  

To their knowledge, you were studying hotel management and hospitality in order to “improve the business.” That was why they’d relented when you’d asked to start taking classes, switching you over to the night shift to avoid having to hire a new employee.

What they didn’t know is that your school didn’t even offer that as a major. Nor were they aware of the acceptance letter into NYU’s Masters of Social Work program that was stashed inside your dresser drawer, hidden from sight. That was a conversation for another day when you found the strength to face their disappointment.

Chaos waited to strike until the end of your shift. 

Just as you packed your book back into your bag, a familiar, skunky odor wafted past your nostrils. 

Ignore it, you thought. Let it be Dad’s problem when he takes over in five minutes. But if you could smell it, so could any of the cops patrolling the boulevard. One more citation and the motel was in jeopardy of being permanently shut down, and you couldn’t take that risk.

With a frustrated sigh, you yanked open the desk drawer and reached in for a pen, instead pulling out an unopened box of crayons. A twenty-four pack of Crayola—the good kind. You plucked a waxy cornflower blue from its spot and scribbled Be back soon on a Post-It note, sticking it on the front of the desk. Grabbing the pepper spray canister from its spot next to the register, just in case, you started down the hall. Marijuana wasn’t Phyllis’s drug of choice, though it might have been one of her various gentleman suitors’, but the scent was too strong to be coming all the way from room 10.

Maybe this Eddie Munson was trouble, afterall.

You knocked on his door, firmly but without aggression. It certainly wasn’t the first time you interrupted someone’s buzz, and it wouldn’t be the last. You knew better than to go in guns a-blazing; it’s easier to catch flies with sugar than vinegar. 

Eddie opened it after a moment, cracking it halfway and revealing a lit joint pinched between his plush lips. One forearm was perched on the doorframe, showing off faded ink of a litter of flying bats and a dragon-esque creature. He was clad in only navy blue boxer briefs, but his lack of attire was no surprise. Many guests were shameless, not bothering to cover the holes in their Fruit of the Loom tighty-whities and showcasing faded yellow stains on the crotch. What confused you was the elastic waistband proudly proclaiming ‘Calvin Klein’ that cut off the soft hair trailing from his belly button. It seemed absurd that he would have been lugging around any designer clothes in that trash bag, but there was no other possibility. 

“Can I help you?” he asked, shaking his curly bangs out of his face. Half-lidded brown eyes scanned your form, trying to determine whether you were a narc or trying to bum some bud off of him. His window was cracked open enough to let in fresh air, which also meant that the acrid smell could easily be let out.

“You can’t smoke that here,” you reported matter-of-factly, just as you had a million times before. When he cocked a challenging brow, you continued. “Cigarettes are fine, but no weed. The police will come after us and you.”

He looked around the room, unbothered, and absentmindedly scratched at his bare chest. A demon’s head was sketched just above a sparse patch of hair. Under different circumstances, or maybe in another life altogether, you would’ve asked him about his tattoos; if they had some philosophical meaning or were the products of spur-of-the-moment decisions. You could have blathered on about the ideas you had for your own future tattoos, if you ever worked up the nerve to actually get one. 

“You mean to tell me that with all of the skeevy shit that goes on around here, the cops are gonna waste their time on a little pot?” He scoffed and took another defiant pull, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling away from you.

I guess chivalry isn’t dead, you mused, stifling an eye roll. “No, but they’re always looking for an excuse to ‘investigate,’’' you threw air-quotes around the last word, “so they can bust us for more serious things, and that is the perfect one.” You gestured to the joint only to be met with an eye roll. “Look, you can either put it out, smoke it somewhere else, or you can leave. Full refund, but you can’t stay here.”

His stare locked onto your steely eyes and clenched jaw, only breaking when you’d straightened your posture to stand your ground. “Whatever,” he huffed, but he snuffed it out. A glimmer of a smile danced on his lips, disappearing nearly as quickly as it arrived. Despite its fleeting nature, it managed to thaw you enough so that your arms weren’t held quite so tight to your body, your expression less rigid. “Just trying to relax and get some sleep, like you were while you were supposed to be ‘working.’” It’s his turn to supply the air-quotes, both in mockery and as a gotcha. A teasing lilt elevated his voice, smoothing out the edge he’d greeted you with earlier. 

“I wasn’t sleeping, just…resting my eyes,” you volleyed back, your smirk betraying any semblance of the tough façade you’d worn. 

Eddie crossed his arms and walked over to the garbage bag of clothes. He rummaged through it for a moment before procuring a pair of gray sweatpants, stepping into them hurriedly as though he just remembered his minimal attire. 

“Maybe if you chose more interesting reading material, you wouldn’t be sl—resting your eyes on the job,” he amended, gesturing to the textbook in your canvas tote bag. “Ever heard of Stephen King?”

“I live in a motel, not under a rock.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You live here?”

Shit. That wasn’t information you regularly divulged. Sure, this guy seemed harmless, but looks can be deceiving. Prime example: wearing designer underwear while using a trash bag in lieu of a suitcase. 

It was too late to double back, so you nodded. “Yeah,” you admitted reluctantly. The sole of your sneaker dug into the old carpet. 

Eddie looked like he wanted to say more, lips parted and eyes wide like there was a follow-up question sitting on the tip of his tongue. Before he could ask it, your gaze landed on the clock radio: six AM on the dot. 

“I need to go,” you said hurriedly. Shame at your sudden shyness burned a hole in your belly. Eddie Munson was a guest; for all intents and purposes, he was a total stranger. There was no reason to be intimidated by him. “Good luck falling asleep,” you added with a weak smile. 

The easy banter that had been building between you dissipated in an instant, taking his good mood with it. His goodbye was a sardonic salute, the mattress springs creaking wearily as soon as you closed the door behind you. 

Sure enough, your dad was in the tiny lobby, assessing some peeling wallpaper. “Gotta fix that,” he mumbled to himself, thumbnail picking at it aimlessly. He turned around when he heard the door open and smiled when he saw you. 

“Sorry, I was helping out a guest,” you rushed to explain, hoping he wasn't too anxious to find the desk left unattended. 

The wrinkles in your dad’s forehead became more pronounced. “Is everything alright?” The phrase ‘helping out a guest’ could range from unclogging a toilet to calling the police for a domestic dispute. 

“Yeah, everything’s fine,” you reassured him quickly, flashing an exaggerated thumbs-up. “No law enforcement necessary. Didn’t even need to use the pepper spray.” You waved the canister in your palm before placing it back. 

He beamed, leaning in and pressing a kiss to your scalp. “It’s times like this where I just know I’ll be leaving this place in good hands.” 

You swallowed the bile that crept up your throat and feigned a smile when  he pulled you in for a tight hug. The mingled scents of Irish Spring soap and drugstore aftershave tickled your nose, and tears stung along your lash line. 

If only you knew, you thought, giving him one last squeeze before you headed to your room. Disappointed wouldn’t even begin to cover it. 

Your parents would never say the word aloud; they’d look at each other and heave identical weighted sighs. Their lifelong goal of a long-standing family business would vanish in the blink of an eye. Dad would pretend there was a chance that they could afford a new hire, even going so far as to fumble through the years of financial statements before inevitably throwing in the towel; Mom would force a pained smile and hoarsely encourage you to follow your dreams, even at the expense of theirs.

You shook the thought away as you trudged towards your room, sneakered feet like sandbags below you.  Dwelling on this scenario had you teetering on the brink of insanity, so you’d willed yourself to focus on something else. Anything else.

Like the motel’s newest guest and his smile. The way it softened the hard lines on his face, offering you a glimpse of how he wore happiness. Something about it made you want to see him happy again. 

You can’t even figure out how to make yourself happy, you thought, peeling back the starchy sheets and finally crawling into bed, much less a stranger. For all you knew, he was just relaxed because his high was starting to kick in, and not from some warming presence you’d supplied. 

The sun cracked pink through the sky, visible through the paper-thin curtains hanging on the window. You had become accustomed to this backwards routine, able to fall asleep while daylight broke. It took a few extra moments this time; you were anticipating marijuana-tinged fumes to float through the vents when Eddie ignored your instructions. 

It was that flicker of a smile that had you almost certain he would spark up once you’d left. The smile of someone who so naturally flouted authority that he no longer bragged about it. Yet time ticked by without a hint of evidence that he was smoking again. 

Which begged the question: if the smile didn’t signify defiance, what did it mean?

Eddie Munson is definitely trouble, you surmised just before you drifted off, but nothing you can’t handle.

--

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[rafeandonlyrafe]

childhood bedroom

words: 1k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, protected p in v sex, caught

you’re not sure what to expect rafe to say when you invite him to your upcoming family dinner. you’ve been dating for a couple months, but rafe doesn’t seem like the kind of guy to be into meeting families, even if he is serious about you.

“your parents are going to love me.” rafe says with a laugh surprising you in how eager he is to meet them.

you have no clue how true his words would be when he shows up with a giant bouquet of flowers for your mom. you giggle as she gushes over them, separating them into bouquets while thanking rafe over and over. you lean against him, looking up at his satisfied face, unable to hide just how pleased he is.

“you know, it’s going to be a lot harder to win over my dad.” you say, holding his hand as you head towards the backyard where your dad is barbequing.

“i won you over, didn’t i princess? and you thought i would never do that.” rafe says, kissing your cheek. 

you giggle, squeezing his hand tightly as you step out onto the patio. when rafe first started flirting with you, you turned him away multiple times, not thinking that he would be a serious boyfriend, and you were certainly not looking for just a fling, but you finally gave him a chance after he literally begged, and he’s done everything to prove your initial doubts wrong since then.

“hey dad, this is rafe.” you say. rafe lets go of your hand to clap his against your fathers, before they strike up a conversation about what he’s barbecuing. you give rafe a kiss on the cheek before heading to sit on the daybed underneath the shade of the balcony, not wanting to stand in the bright sun.

you watch rafe interact with you dad, half-listening as the conversation switches to golf. after a few minutes, rafe lets your father get back to focusing on barbequing. he comes over to sit next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“i told you they would love me.” rafe says, kissing the top of your head as you lean against him.

“mmm, as they should.” you say, squeezing his thigh. “considering i love you.”

the rest of the night proves even more how charming rafe can be when he really turns it on, making your parents laugh throughout the whole dinner, and you think you even catch your mom blushing a couple times.

when it gets dark, you all head inside for some wine and card games, rafe winning the perfect amount to impress your parents but not annoy them. you’re surprised he can hold back his competitive side. 

they like him so much that they don’t even bat their eyes when you say that rafe and you are gonna sleep over, not wanting to drive home drunk. they let you sleep in the same room without question, which they certainly never would allow any of your past boyfriends to do. you assume that they also see how serious you too are about each other.

or maybe they just don’t think you’d risk having sex with each other while they’re sleeping just a couple rooms away, but that’s certainly not true as rafe currently has you pinned underneath him, hips pushing into yours over and over again.

“shh, come on baby, you don’t want your parents to hear, do you?” he teases as his thumb rubs over your clit. “who do you think they’d be more mad at, huh? me or you?”

“rafe.” you whimper, hands tight on his shoulders. his hips speed up, cock swelling inside of you.

“shh, good girl.” rafe presses his lips against yours to silence you. you know you’re not going to last much longer, you just hope you can finish quiet enough to not wake your parents up.

“letting me fuck you in your childhood bedroom, dirty slut.” rafe laughs in your ear, his thumb speeding up over your clit. he brings his other hand to cover your mouth, knowing that you’re unable to stay silent when you cum.

you moan against his hand, sounds muffled, the only noise echoing throughout the room is his hips slapping against your skin.

“fuuuck.” rafe groans, pushing his forehead into your shoulder. “fuck baby, you’re gonna be the death of me.” 

his hips stutter faster and faster until you feel him release inside of you, filling up the condom. rafe pushes his hips in deep as he rides out his orgasm, thumb continuing to rub at your clit until your whole body shakes as your orgasm rolls through you.

rafe slowly removes his hand from your mouth, giving your neck a kiss as you both breathe deeply, recovering from your orgasm. rafe eventually pulls out, giving you a soft kiss on the lips before pulling the condom off and standing up to discard it in your trash can.

you smile as rafe rejoins you in bed, letting him take you into his strong arms. you close your eyes, the tiredness from the sex quickly overtaking your body.

--

“oh mom, rafe is here! do you wanna say hi to him?” you ask on the phone, happy that your mom now knows rafe well enough to talk to him on one of your weekly phone calls.

“hey, mrs. y/l/n.” rafe calls, giving you a kiss on the cheek as you continue to prepare dinner for your at-home date night you had planned.

“oh rafe! how are you, sweetie?” your mom gushes. 

you giggle and continue to stir as rafe converses with your mom through speakerphone.

“oh, y/n.” your mom calls. “i wanted to talk to you and rafe about something.” “what is it mom?” you ask, turning the burner down to let the dish simmer.

“i was taking out the trash in your old room the other day-” your eyes widen as you snap your head to rafe, remembering the discarded condom that you completely forgot about.

[kkurades]

✩°｡⋆⸜ STAR STRUCK PANTHER

━━ you had a bad habit of overworking yourself until you physically couldn’t anymore so your best friend decided that perhaps it would be best to distract you by adopting a hybrid but the both of you didn’t expect for you to end up with seven love struck hybrids

pairing: hybrid!ot7!bts x reader

word count: 2.4k

warnings: injuries

note: the first chapter is officially done!!

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FIGURE skating is your life. It had always been and it probably always will be. It's like a drug to you. You can't stop until you’ve crossed the line.

You had been training for months on end. Sleeping less than five hours a day and spending every waking hour at the ice rink.

You didn't mean for it to get this far, but when you suddenly collapsed during your regular night training you knew you should have listened to your friends.

No one was around at that hour, so you laid there motionlessly for hours until the concierge found you unconscious in the early hours of the morning.

Black and blue marks covered your body from the number of times that you had fallen, and your skin was so cold under his touch that he nearly assumed that you were dead.

When you think back to what occurred, you only vaguely recall the shouting voices, loud sirens, and blue lights as you fell in and out of consciousness.

As you woke up in the hospital, you noticed your siblings nodding off in the seats positioned around your hospital bed while your parents were speaking to the nurses down the hall.

A groan left your body as you attempted to sit up, the monitor attached to you beeped loudly, which alarmed your siblings immediately.

Your brother flew towards your figure, his arms wrapping around your neck as he shut his eyes tightly in relief, while your sister had tears rolling down her cheeks.

Sakura let out a shuddering breath as she enveloped her quivering hands around yours.

“Oh my god! You're awake. I was so worried about you! When I suddenly got a call that you were in the hospital, I thought I was about to have a heart attack!” Your sister cried out.

Guilt formed inside of you as you watched the older girl break down in front of you before you made an effort to shuffle to the side of your hospital bed to make space for her.

Sakura slightly hesitated, but once she saw Heeseung's soft expression encouraging her to lay down beside you, she practically leaped onto the mattress.

The hospital bed was tiny, but the two of you managed to fit by cuddling into one another like you used to do when you were kids.

Heeseung sat down in his chair once again, his hand never leaving yours to make sure that you wouldn't vanish abruptly.

The silence in the luminous white room wasn't comfortable, but it wasn't uncomfortable either.

You quickly decided to just remain quiet and enjoy the peaceful moment with your siblings before you fell asleep not even ten minutes later.

The next time you woke up, you were alone. One of the nurses shortly entered after and clarified that your parents and sister were eating in the canteen, while your brother was making calls to assure all of your friends and family members that you were okay.

Fortunately, you managed to leave the hospital the following day and said goodbye to your parents and sister, who practically banned you from skating for at least a month, before Heeseung drove you home.

His dark car parked on one of your numerous parking spots before he quickly got out to open the door for you.

He assisted you out of the vehicle before allowing you to lean onto him while sauntering to your front door.

Your house was large, far too large if you had to be honest. Sakura had frequently advised you to at least adopt a hybrid, so you wouldn't feel so lonely, but you had always refused with the justification that you simply didn't have time for a hybrid.

Heeseung scrutinized the gigantic building in front of him before he scoffed as you ticked in the password of your front door.

“I swear this is more of a mansion than a home,” your brother began complaining to you about how you weren't responsible when you purchased the place.

You knew he was only worried about you, so you just choose to dismiss him while walking into your home.

Heeseung carefully planted you onto your couch before letting out a deep breath.

“I would like to stay to look after you but- I- uh-” you decided to put your brother out of his misery as he stumbled over his words while scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

“Go home to Jake and Ri-ki. I know they need you more than I do,” you smiled at your younger brother as he scanned you, nodding gradually.

He kneeled so he would be able to hug you tightly before he calmly left you alone in your big mansion to go back home to his hybrids.

The eery silence of it made you squeamish, and you settled on turning on the television for some noise.

You looked through all the various kinds of movies and series before you settled on Vincenzo, after having recalled your sister fondly blabbing about it.

As you were halfway through the third episode, you heard your phone ring, and you grunted slightly as you reached for it from your pocket.

The name displayed at the top of the screen made you smile slightly, and you instantly tapped to reply.

You pressed the phone against your ear lazily while continuing to watch the entertaining show.

Yuna's anxious voice filled your senses as you silently listened to her rambling on and on about how worried she and Sunghoon had been after they heard the news from your brother.

Ultimately, you managed to soothe her and now as you listened to her nagging you slightly regretted it.

“C'mon yn! You're so lonely and depressing that it makes me feel sad!” She exclaimed loudly and just as you opened your mouth to argue against it, she managed to beat you to it.

“You can't use the excuse of being too busy anymore. You're on hiatus for at least a few months, so now is the perfect timing to adopt a hybrid!”

While you wished you actually were on hiatus for a few months, you knew that wasn't the case. In the very best outcome, you'll manage to get two months off before you'll be back competing again.

“I don't think I'm ready yet. To take care of another being,” you tried to exemplify, but she wouldn't have it.

“At least give it a shot, yn. Just come to the center tomorrow. I promise you won't regret it.”

You skeptically gazed out of the extensive windows as the rain quietly plunged from the sky.

You had always yearned of having a hybrid when you were younger, but not quite in the way they are seen today.

Furthermore, you didn't desire a hybrid, so you could have a pet or a servant of some sorts. You just desperately wished for a hybrid because you wanted a friend.

You had heard about the indestructible friendships that some people had with their hybrids, and you longed for someone like that.

Someone who you would be able to tell everything, someone you could always rely on, someone that would mean the world to you as your best friend.

And while you had Yuna and Sunghoon it wasn't quite the same.

“Fine, I guess I'll come by at two?” You questioned hesitantly, and could nearly feel Yuna's excitement through the phone.

“Alright! That's perfect! I can't wait! Okay, I'm going to hang up now!” You giggled at her rambling before quickly managing to squeeze a goodbye between her words.

You hastily threw your phone on the couch as you slumped back into your seat.

The following day, you slept in until eleven am, finally being able to sleep for more than five hours.

You put on your fuzzy slippers as you stalked into the kitchen to make a brisk breakfast.

Time passed quickly, and before you knew it you were sitting in your brand-new car while chewing on a piece of gum.

Your music softly played from the car, and you bobbed your head to the tunes as you neared the hybrid center where Yuna worked at.

You parked your car in one of the spots behind the establishment before unhurriedly walking into the building.

The doors hadn't even properly opened as you felt someone slamming into you at full speed.

A smile spread across your face as you recognized the sweet strawberry scent of your friend before you embraced her.

You tightly hugged one another before you broke apart, but you didn't manage to say anything as she hauled you towards her desk to fill in some papers.

She reviewed your living situation and asked you an infinite number of questions that she knew the answer to but nonetheless had to ask, but you didn't mind.

In fact, you were glad your friend took her job so seriously.

A grin sprouted across her face as she gestured for you to follow her as she explained to you that due to your habit and routines, some sort of feline would be most suited for you.

And you knew better than to oppose, so you quietly followed her towards the feline hybrids that resided in the center.

It seemed like there was an indefinite amount of cat hybrids as you watched them all hang out in one humongous room.

You noticed a lion hybrid peacefully grooming himself while sprawling on a couch, a Siamese hybrid that was napping on one of the cat towers, and a lynx hybrid playing with a mouse toy.

Multiple of the cats curiously spun towards you and Yuna before hurriedly approaching you. Some were more eager than others, and your heart softened as you looked at every one of them.

But you weren't expecting to feel a soft bro ration of purrs against your legs, your gaze quickly turned to the floor only to see a black panther rubbing its body against you while purring happily.

Yuna beamed dazzlingly at you as she saw you gazing at the feline before tilting closer to you.

“That's Taehyung. He's a black panther hybrid and while he may be a little uh- troublesome sometimes he’s really sweet, I think he'd be perfect for you.”

You carefully listened to the description, catching the desperation in her voice as she told you that he'd be perfect for you.

His vibrant green eyes flickered up to meet yours, and you realized that you wouldn't be able to leave without him, so you carefully leaned down, which gave the panther the opportunity to graze his head against your hand for pets.

As you softly scratched his head, Taehyung attempted to move even closer to you, almost making you tumble backward because of the lousy position you were in.

“Yn?” After a few minutes, you heard Yuna's eager voice before you glanced up at her.

Taehyung let out something that you assumed to be a whine as you turned your attention to your friend.

“Should I get the adoption process started?” Her inquiry slightly caught you off guard and your gaze returned to Taehyung, who was looking at you with expectant, sparkling eyes.

“I don't- I uh-” your words got caught in your throat as the panther's eyes saddened while letting out a miserable whimper.

You felt your heart clench before you impulsively started nodding. You didn't even know what you were doing, the words rolling out of your mouth while you carefully watched the hybrid.

“Alright, yeah, get it done,” Taehyung's eyes instantly lit up, and he started nuzzling into your warm body with a loud purr.

Yuna's eyes contorted crescent as she bolted to her office, so she could get the process started before you would be able to back out.

Your eyes scarcely enlarged as you realized that she left you inside a room full of feline hybrids, but you felt your nerves calm as your attention turned back to Taehyung.

The panther hybrid was circling your tense form, growling and hissing at any hybrid that dared to get near to you, his soon-to-be owner.

Taehyung couldn't believe his eyes when he saw you walk in, it was like you were an angel.

You looked so ethereal that he found himself approaching you without any hesitation.

When he managed to push through the huddle of other hybrids, purrs poured from him when his fur touched you.

His pupils dilated when your eyes met, his heart aching to touch you.

He knew that he couldn't let you adopt another hybrid, but neither could he let you leave without taking him with you.

So, he put on his finest sad kitty facade and when you confirmed to get the adoption process started he had never felt so delighted.

His senses were drenched by your scent, and he was unable to formulate any thought as you smiled at him while petting him as you waited for Yuna to return.

When your friend re-entered the room with multiple documents in her hands, she guided you out which made Taehyung hiss at first.

But when another employee came in to help him pack his things, he felt his skin buzzing with excitement while he altered back into his human form.

He hastily pulled on a sweater, not wanting to be away from you any more than needed, before he followed the man towards Yuna's office where you had been signing his adoption papers.

Of course, before you were even able to do that, Yuna had to run one last checkup about you to make sure that you were capable of taking in Taehyung.

The hybrid entered the room with wide enthusiastic eyes and humming ears as his eyes immediately found you sitting on the chair while scribbling something on the forms that are laid in front of you.

His steps towards you were lengthy and fast and before you even knew what was going on you felt someone colliding with you, your chair slightly rocking at the force.

The scent of fresh lavender surrounded you as a warm body awkwardly enveloped you.

You quickly came to realize that the unknown man embracing you was, in fact, the hybrid that you were about to adopt, so you let him hug you for a little while longer.

Eventually, Taehyung had to let go of you, his eyes flickering all over your face.

Your breath almost hitched by Taehyung's beauty. His eyes were a consoling dark brown color that you knew you could get lost in if you looked too long, and his features were almost godly.

When Taehyung noticed you staring at him, he could feel a smile fighting its way onto his face along with a rose-colored blush.

“Hi,” he breathed out while not taking his eyes from you, which made Yuna grin negligibly.

“Hi,” your voice was delicate and Taehyung was sure that he could listen to you talk for hours.

“Let's finish the paperwork then,” Yuna giggled after having watched you steal glances at the hybrid who refused to look away from you.

Yeah, she was definitely sure that the two of you are perfect for each other.

©cupidsheqrt , 2023.

[mhsdatgo]

Alicent crowing aegon exposing her children to more risk than just letting rhaenyra became queen. Rhaenyra wanted that throne, there is no way she would have accepted those "terms", and alicent is 100% aware of this in the book and in the show as well. By crowning aegon she start a war and put her children DIRECTLY on the battlefield against people who were more experienced in war like daemon or ride dragon longer like rhaenyra and rhaenys amd consequently may control their dragon better. If you didn't want to consider a crash between two or more dragons, even if they were on a dragon against an army the danger is very high, look at rhaenys the conqueror or aemon the first son of jaehaerys, they were on dragon's back and yet both of them were killed by arrow. Not to mention that both in the book and in the show alicent spend years creating animosity with rhaenyra, If you TRULY believe that someone may hurt your children you do everything you can to maintain at least a civil relationship, and not constantly provoke them and then cry about how your children may be hurt by your stupidity. Because that what alicent has done in the book starting hating rhaenyra, pray viserys to name Aegon as heir and constantly share gossip to damage rhaenyra's image (with a 10 years old girl, meanwhile Alicent was a GROWN woman), and in the show the situation is not different. The truth is that alicent’s action were based on her own ambitious in the book and on her resentment to rhaenyra in the show, but NEVER in the interest of her children. In fact aegon never wanted to be king, he was forced by her and has to endure all the consequences while watching all of his family die

Ladies and gentlemen, here we have someone who quite literally didn't get a single thing about Fire and Blood.

See, anons like these are what makes my blood boil at the writers of HotD for making Rhaenyra appear like a saint which not only made most of the decisions she'll take from this moment onward out of (show) character (as far as character building and development goes) but also fucking boring.

I'm always one to listen to different points of view and interpretations of books as complicated as these, but something that has always bugged me is the way this fandom CANNOT DIGEST the type of tragedy that is just inevitable.

It was never about picking sides, it was never about sexism, it was always about kin torn apart by kin and their own flaws dragging them down. There was no way to ever avoid that and I cannot have a proper discussion about F&B with anyone who doesn't understand this first.

Moreover, just what do you think Alicent should've done? Shut up, be quiet, sit still and look pretty while Daemon's spies turned her children into bloody shreds? Allow them to be assassinated because of the threat they pose to Rhaenyra's claim? Does everything revolve around her? Is she some kind of Twilight Sparkle?

Let me tell you this: no woman would willingly step back and leave their children to their own devices when their own lives pose a threat to someone else's interests.

I have respect for Rhaenyra and her will to fight for what she believed was her birthright (although let's be honest, it was a feeling born out of nothing but the entitlement of a spoiled brat, it turned into a war of parents after one of each faction's children was killed) but I also have so much more respect for Alicent and her courage to bare teeth and claws and plan a coup to be allowed the upper hand and more possibilities of looking after her children if one of them is ruling. It's not "stupidity" it's awareness. And acting according to it.

It's true that Alicent has her own ambitions, but to say that they started growing in her when she was nothing but an 18 year old girl marrying a 30 year old man... Do you hear yourself? That's a girl getting graduated from high school. Oh shiver me timbers, we're scared of young adults here.

Everyone likes and loves and adores to talk about the way ALICENT was having beef with Rhaenyra as a 10 year old but nevermind Rhaenyra placing a bounty on two toddlers and one of them getting ripped apart because of it. Nevermind her refusing that bastard Corlys' advice to take Daeron as a hostage and demanding that he be killed instead. (Because this bitch was the #1 threat to her rule, but y'all aren't ready for that conversation)

She never "prayed" for Aegon to be named as heir, what she DID pray for was for him and Rhaenyra to be betrothed to one another. I hate Rhaegon personally, (no hate to any Rhaegon stan that reads this ♥️) but honestly this is the only marriage that could've MAYBE prevented the Dance. It started because there were two claimants to the throne. Just marry them to each other and the issue was solved. Both of them get crowned, no Dance, peace.

But noooooo, Viserys, the incompetent twat, as always had to act like an incompetent twat and be like "lol but they don't get along". IT WAS HIM WHO DOOMED HIS CHILDREN, EACH AND EVERY ONE OF HIS SONS AND DAUGHTERS. ALL. OF. THEM.

Everyone else acted as a consequence to the cluterfuck that the sick old man created. Namely, chaos. What else did you expect?

[junicult]

note ; it’s just so easy to blurb abt harvey rn even though i wish i could respond to asks. studying for finals & i have sm work that’s why i’ve been a little slow recently 😓

just thinking about harvey, ever the gentleman, meeting your parents for the first time.

despite him being the sweetest, probably the best kind of man that your parents would want you to end up with—he’s never been anxious like this. or at least, it’s been a long time.

you dropped the bomb on him in the middle of a very peaceful evening. he had a nice day at work, he’s spending an even better night with you—yet the news suddenly threw a wrench into his serenity.

it’s like you forgot the kind of man you’re dating. while in the back of his mind he’s eager to meet the people he knows are going to be his in-laws someday—it’s the same reason why he’s frightened to meet them.

first impressions are everything, so for the next week he’s going to be asking you questions about things you hardly even know.

what’s your mom’s favorite meal? what does your dad do for a living? what kind of people are your parents? do you think they’ll like him?

“well considering my mom asks about you all the time, yeah, i think they’ll like you.” you giggle, watching his features soften despite his stiff shoulders.

and when it’s the day your parents are set to come into town, it really has been a long time since he’s felt this sweaty.

you haven’t seen him this anxious in so long. it’s endearing how important it is to him.

while he always dresses well, he made a little extra effort today. button up tucked into his slacks, his tie around his neck sitting neater then usual, his hair combed. he sits at the kitchen table bouncing his knee anxiously, looking off into space in deep thought you know is eating him alive.

you, however, sit in your cleaner work clothes, hair like always, maybe a couple extra pieces of jewelry on.

you’ve done your best trying to ease his worries, but even you know there’s nothing that’ll convince him from the worst. there’s no amount of, “honey, they’re going to love you. i promise,” that’ll calm his nerves.

and even though when you brush a couple of his stray hairs behind his ear, leaning down to kiss his forehead, reassuring him once more—he still feels his heart drop to his stomach when he hears the couple knocks on the door.

you greet them warmly, just as a daughter who hasn’t seen her parents in months would. he stands back, wondering what the hell he should be doing with his hands, and if he’s smiling correctly.

when you turn to him, introducing him as your boyfriend, he’s too distracted to notice the look of reassurance you shoot him. sliding your hand across his back, resting your cheek on his shoulder for a moment while he reaches out to introduce himself.

he shakes your parents hands with a warm smile, praying to yoba they don’t notice how clammy they are.

the entirety of the evening is spent with the majority of you catching up with your parents, asking about other family members and hearing about their lives. you carry the conversation significantly—but when it becomes time for your parents to begin asking him questions, you allow him to speak.

he’s good with conversation, so ignoring the fact that these are the people that raised the love of his life—he can manage his sentences without a single stutter.

and when he’s able to make your father laugh, you can practically see the weight lift off his shoulders.

it’s midway through the evening when you come back inside after giving your parents a tour, he stayed in to make you all dinner. you had a moment to come up to him while your parents were off in some other room, wrapping your arms around his waist and peeking over his shoulder.

“how are you doing?” you hum, fixing your gaze on his when he turns to look at you.

“much better.” he chuckles, stirring up the contents in the pot. “how’d they like the farm?”

you giggle. “they love it. my dad got all sentimental about it,” he doesn’t miss the fondness laced in your voice. “guess what?”

he shoots a glance over your head, before humming, “what?”

you squeeze his torso a little tighter. “my mom just told me she loves you. probably more then me, actually.” you tease, leaning over to see his cheeks darken and his lips purse into a smile. “my dad, too. in fact, he said you’re a good man.”

your voice drops an octave to mimic your fathers tone, making him exhale out a laugh through his nose.

though, hearing that made the smile on his cheeks hardly budge for the rest of the evening.

he’s beyond glad his impression made your parents feel that way, even more so because it only indulges his thoughts of your future. and while he could’ve shit his pants when your father pulled him aside after dinner, humming one last greeting, even going as far as to saying, “thank you for treating my daughter so well, she speaks very highly of you,” it makes his heart ache.

hearing your father’s approval, affirming your love of him in the same sentence—well, he almost collapsed.

feeling so nervous for days—really months because he knew he had to meet them at some point—and hearing that was like the deepest breath of fresh air he’s ever received.

so what he’s been in past relationships, maybe their parents liked him as well. none of that mattered, though. because this is the one that really counts. this is the family he wants to be acquainted with the rest of his life.

you’re the one that’s bringing these people into his life.

and really, he should be the one thanking them.

because without them, you’d have never stumbled into his life. and without you, he truly wouldn’t believe in this future.

[justtryingtobecreative]

Neteyam x human reader

Chapter 2

(Tw: Smut, Rough, Size kink)

Link part 1 at the bottom! I think if these chapters keep going well im going to make it a 6 part story! I would love to share some more smut and actual plot with you!

It was a few hours later that Kiri came hurdling through your bedroom door, "You won't believe what happened!" She yelled before planting herself on your freshly cleaned bed.

You sat up with interest placing your book down next to you, your face scrunching up at the movement. "Well you have to tell me now!" You exclaimed trying to match her enthousiasm.

She didn't seem to notice your struggle as she leaned toward you like she was sharing the greatest secret ever, her placing her blue hands on your shoulders "Neteyam. was. in. a. fight!" She laughed loudly at her own words, "He came home like two hours ago, all bruised up!"

Your heart jumped in your stomach, "What?" You mumbled. Apparently he had found an excuse.

"Yup! He came home like he hadn't been out all night, and Neytiri about threw a fit when he wouldn't tell her who did it!" Kiri smirked. "It was very rewarding to see him rebel against the parents, he's normally such a 'perfect son'."

Jup the perfect son who had said and done the most unholy things to you just the night before...

You shook your head, feeling guilty at the thought of Neteyam having to lie to his parents. You knew he strived to be a worthy succesor, you doubted this whole ordeal had been worth the hassle for him.

You let out a sigh, "What did Jake say? Was he very mad?" You asked softly.

Kiri rolled her eyes. "Well honestly he wasn't thrilled at first, but when he heard Neteyam had won the fight and he knew Neytiri wasn't watching he just gave him a pat on the back."

You let out a sigh of relief, "That's good"

"He always gets away with so much more than us," She complained. Dramatically draping herself over your pillows, raising her head to look at you.

"Oh yes i almost forgot to ask, tommorow the other Na'vi from the clan and us are going to the Hallelujah mountains! Did you want to come?" She asked excitedly.

You gave her a doubtfull look, you really didn't want to face Neteyam yet.

"Oh come on y/n pleassee! Neteyam probably won't even be allowed to attend!" Kiri pleaded, she had probably mistaken your curiosity about her brother as hostile... not whatever it actually was.

"Okay... fine" you finally murmured, honestly suprised you were able to resist her puppy dog eyes so long.

"Good! Lo'ak said he would pick you up after dropping of spider, you better be ready Y/n because the warriors are going to do a race on their ikrans again!" Kiri ranted, you somehow catching the whole thing.

"Wait wow, they allowed them to race again? After what happened last time?" You lifted your eyebrows in suprise, suprised Jake had been so lenient.

"Well he kind of has too! It's a holy ceremony, so however dangerous it is it's still in the name of Eywa!" Kiri shrugged.

"Now do you still want me to show you my new book?" You said to change the subject.

Kiri nodded excitedly and jumped to sit beside you.

~~~

You stood in front of the human lab in the dewy morning air, droplets of water still covering the plants around you. The sun still low in the sky, casting a warm light on the landscape.

It felt strange to look at your surroundings freely without the usual glass in front of your face, the new and improved mask Norm had made 'finally' fool proof. Now it just existed of an oxygen wire and a little machine clipped too your pants.

You had taken the rest of yesterday for yourself giving yourself a much needed relaxing bath. Honestly the aching muscles and other aching bits on your body still remained, not to mention the bruises and hickeys almost everywhere. You and Neteyam hadn't noticed instantly but you were sure he was covered as well.

A whistle pierced the air, startling you as Lo'ak's Ikran landed next to you, his mouth pulled into an inviting grin "Come on 'sky demon', we need to get to the others!" He yelled holding out a hand toward you, lifting you up to sit behind him.

Your dress thankfully covered any other hickeys and bruises as your legs were mostly unharmed. You had put on a blouse over it, the thin fabric covering your neck and arms nicely.

"You allright y/n? You seem off today." Lo'ak said softly, the boy was honestly too sweet sometimes. And he was indeed correct about you being quiet, you were normally much more talkative with him.

"Yup, still tired i guess" you just replied, hoping he wouldn't question you more.

"Hey i still wanted to ask you about Net...." he was interupted by a large amount of whoops and yells. The other Na'vi circling the two of you.

"Hey lovely sky demon! It's been a while since you joined us isn't it?" Mi,ak a younger na'vi waved at you with a smile, the jest more of a joke than a serious insult.

"Yup! Been a while! But here i am!" You yell at her, thankfull your lips didn't even come close to Lo'aks ears in this position.

The boy lands the ikran on a big ledge of one of the flying mountains, a large group allready gathered there. Spider and Kiri running up to the two of you.

"Y/n! There you are!" Kiri yelled with an excited Tuk hanging on her arm, "You better get off quick, they are going to start soon!" Spider yelled as he helped you off the large animal, carying you off and setting you on the ground.

Tuk held your hand tightly the moment you got off, dragging you along with her to the crowd"I'm so excited!," She yelled loudly.

Lo'ak waved at the other two as he quickly turned around and moved his ikran to the large group gathered on the edge of the mountain.

It was interesting how many different colour ikran there were, today they seemed almost peacefull. It had been strange to see the animals in a group not meant for war, a melancholy settling in your stomach at the sight.

The warriors were lining up at the edge of the platform, their bodies covered in war paint and more practical clothing than normal.

Confusion circled your stomach as you spotted another familiar Ikran in the midst of the chaos. "Oh my god, is that Neteyam?" You asked softly a flabbergasted expression on your face as you stared at the man.

"Yup! It totally is! NETEYAM!" Tuk screamed so loudly it almost blew your eardrums out. He swiveled around to look at her, his eyes instantly on your form.

He caught your eye, the two of you lost in the other for a second. He seemed so much older as he sat on the ikran, his riding visor set on his hairline and a thick leather piece clasped around his waist. His shoulders seemed broad, and his jawline seemed so strong. He looked like a true warrior.

Even from here you could see the scratches, bruises and hickeys across his body. You doubted another person would know what those were, you had never seen another Na'vi with any.

Jake, Neytiri and the other older Na'vi were stood next to him, Jake having switched his usual huge ikran with a normal sized one. Neteyam barely seemed any smaller than them from this distance.

It scared you how grown up he seemed to get, you knew you didn't belong in his future. Or at least the future his parents intended him to have.

Kiri gave you a sheepish smile as she leaned over, "Yeah, he suddenly insisted on coming this morning. I kind of forgot to tell you."

You opened your mouth to respond,...

"Allright! Today the riding Na'vi are racing their ikran to the Sljikla tree located on the other side of the halleluyah mountains." An older male you recognised as Heliruin yelled toward the remaining crowd of people stood in front of him, he had a fucked up knee from an ill placed bullet in the war. That was probably why he didn't compete.

"Now before you go there! You have to grab a marker from both of the other islands, he lifted up two pieces of red and yellow cloth "There are just enough for all of you, so if anyone grabs two your disqualified!"

"You are competing for the honor of victory and for a token dedicated to your win!" He finally yelled, the crowd roaring at the beaded sting he held in the air, a rare red gem hanging on the end.

"Now we wil start on three,

One.

Two.

Three!"

Chaos ensued as all the Ikran set off into the sky, the contestants all trying to slow down the others instantly. This meant pushing, kicking and throwing things at the other contestants. Which was the thing that caused a collision with a rock last year.

"Whooo you all got this!" Tuk yelled loudly, you only able to stare at your blue guy currently in the lead with your heart in your throat. He went impossibly fast in grabbing the markers, the others struggling to keep up. He moved like a warrior, his ikran following his lead like another limb.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as an ikran you recognised as Jake's tried to pull in front of Neteyam and cut him off. He seemed unfaced though so your heart calmed down a bit as he expertly moved across the mountains.

Finally Neteyam touched down on the ground in front of the tree, you just barely being able to see him place a palm on the tree. Jake wasn't far behind, touching the tree after him.

You looked around you at the crowd, the world seeming to slow down for a second. You noticed a few things all at once, Na'vi skin was beautifull in the sunlight, There were really a lot of beautifull women in the clan, and alot of them really liked your big blue guy.

You let out a shaky sigh, what had you done sleeping with him. You had really set yourself up for future heartache when he chose a Na'vi mate in the end.

Your friends all yelled loudly, you being more distracted by your thoughts.

~~~

It was another while before Neteyam, Jake and the rest arrived back at the ledge. You remained a bit behind the group, a bit too unsure of yourself to greet him first. It seemed Neteyam was first, afterwards Jake, after him Neytiri then two unknown riders and then Lo'ak.

The father and son jumped of the Ikran first, the other Na'vi coming over to congratulate him. Someone placing the token in his hand during. The other Sully kids gathered around their older brother, him strangely just looking around in the crowd in thought.

Neytiri who had also stepped of her Ikran looking at the young man in confusion. "You allright son?" She asked placing a hand on her grown son's shoulder.

"Yep I'm fine," He murmured obviously stil not listening as he looked around, growing more desperate by the second.

The other Na'vi seemed confused at his strange demeanor as well. You frowned in confusion, as he pushed a few other Na'vi out of his way.

Jake went to follow him, but was stopped by the crowd.

Neteyam's gaze hit yours in a flash, a relieved expression on his face as he finally looked into your eyes.. The world went quiet around you two as he walked toward you. Your heart beat reverberating through your body and your body relaxing as you looked at him.

He was on you in seconds, placing his hands on your waist and pulling you into an embrace. "I missed you, He murmured into your hair breathing in softly, "I won this for you" he muttered as he hesitatingly let you go of your hand to give you something.

The beaded string hit your palm softly, the red gem shining beautifully in the light. You stared at him and it with wide eyes, Neteyam just giving you a nervous smile.

"Well...wow... thank you so much. I love it." you finally settled on as you pulled his head down to give him a peck on the cheek. He blushed as well, his cheeks turning purple as a large smile spread on his cheeks. His hands softly stroking your waist.

"Let me put it in your hair, he muttered as he gathered a large strand of hair in his hands, expertly tying the bead into your hair. His hands carressing way more of your neck than neccesary during.

A warmth filled your stomach as you stared at his concentrated face.

The act was usually only reserved for mated people but he didn't seem to care, a satisfied smile appearing on his face as he stood back to behold his handiwork. The thin hair wrap blending in well with your hair, but standing out enough for people to notice.

Neither of you really acknowledged the crowd around you until it was a bit too late, a cough interrupting the two of you. Neteyam instantly moving in front of you at the interuption. Him calming down at the familiar face.

"Uhm bro, you might want to take this elsewhere" Lo'ak whispered as he gestured to Jake and Neytiri who were staring wide eyed at the two of you, a confused Norm quickly being called over by the Sully matriarch,

"Yup, he's right" You murmured as you saw a few other people in the crowd start staring too. Neteyam seemed annoyed he had to let you go, slowly pulling his hands of your waist.

Lo'ak grasped his brothers arm, "I'll distract them bro," He gave his brother a teasing look. "Then you might finally get over yourself and just kiss her." he let out a mocking laugh. "Allthough i doubt that"

Little did he know what they had done allready, you noticed Neteyam hide a smirk aswell.

The older of the two released a sigh at his brothers antics, but patted him on the back anyway before the boy left.

"lets go over there" Neteyam murmured as he pointed to a small alcove in the rock. You would be totally hidden from sight there, unless someone walked in that is.

He grasped your hand and pulled you toward it, Lo'ak starting to tell an heavily embelished 'war story' to distract the crowd. Effectively distracting the parents so you could slip away.

You were around the corner first, turning your body around to face him. "I'm not sure how were going to hide this anym..." you couldn't finish your sentence, his lips interupting you mid sentence as they covered yours in a sudden kiss. His tongue softly licking your lips as you opened up your mouth to let him slip his tongue in.

He groaned in your mouth, a hand grasping your ass automatically. You whined into his mouth, before he seperated from you for a second, leaving you hot and bothered.

"I'm really sorry, but this new oxygen mask, i just really neede..." He murmured guiltily, you interupting him this time as you jumped up in his arms wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down toward you.

He let out a low growl, when you pulled at one of his braids. His arms wrapped under your thighs as he lifted you up. You wrapping your legs around him ignoring the discomfort between your legs to harshly rub against him.

A deep growl reverberated from his mouth as Neteyam deepened the kiss pressing your back against the wall as he grinded against you this time. His bare chest rubbing against your clothed one, you really wishing you could press your naked one against him again.

"I would take you right here, but...." he let out a shaky sigh, "You really need to rest, we really pushed you hard for our first time" He mumbled into your ear.

"Do you remember? My cock pressed deep into you, stretching you out so well?" He breathed out the words, a distant look on his face as he was lost in thought. You startled as you felt a bulge start to form under his loincloth, it pressing increasingly hard at your now moist panties.

"Uhm...Neteyam?" You squeeked, your voice turning higher than you wanted. He startled from his thoughts accidentally grinding against you more.

You let out a moan, as his bulge pressed against your core. "Please tell me to stop, i can't hurt you." He sadly murmured in your ear softly as he rutted against you.

You shook your head "This is fine, we just.." you let out a wanting moan. "We just can't.... you can't put your cock in me." You struggled to keep your voice normal.

You felt your body becoming warmer every second, his rough loincloth rubbing your clothed clit every time he came into contact. You both started to move faster against eachother, him groaning harshly into your mouth.

Your throat failed you as you let out the most ungodly moan, just as his erection slipped out from his loincloth and slid across your clothed folds. It's head softly sitting between your moist thighs.

You stared at him with half lidded eyes, your body deciding for you as you automatically slid your thighs back and forth over his member. His groaning continuing harshly, you feeling him start to shake.

You felt his hand enter your panties for a second, his fingers just raking across your wet folds before he suddenly took it out. You whined at the sensitive feeling, looking wide eyed as he licked his fingers clean.

Your teeth grazed his bottom lip, as you placed your lips over his. His face dwarving yours, his mouth way bigger than your own. That didn't stop him when he ran his tongue through your mouth, put it back in his own before collecting your combination of saliva on his tongue and sticking it back in your mouth.

You moaned softly at the strange taste.

The remaining shame you had both felt was gone as you lost yourselves in eachother. It must have been an obscene sight as his cock was pressed between your thighs and you devoured eachother messily. Both of your moans and the sucking and smacking sounds echoeing in the cave.

Neteyam grasped your blouse, pulling it open too reveal your allready bruised neck. He worked his mouth over the supple flesh, sucking harshly.

"You know you are mine, and your rubbing me so good." He cooed as his blue hand stroked your cheek, "Wouldn't it just be riviting if one of our clan mates saw us here, they would walk in and they would see you covered in my spit. Grinding on my cock" he sighed softly.

"They would know your mine instantly," He closed his eyes in bliss his pace growing harder and faster.

His cock sliding harshly across your abused folds was mind numbing, your mind so far gone you could barely think.

"I'm all yours big guy," you whispered as you looked into his big golden eyes, his pupils dilating again as his movements became eratic whilst he neared his orgasm.

"And you own me." He murmured as he harshly pressed you against the wall one last time, you feeling his sticky seed spill between your legs.

He let out a shaky sigh as he enjoyed the aftereffects of his orgasm, it almost being hypnotising to see him release himself on your body.

He softly tucked his now softened member back in his loincloth, giving you a sudden shy smile.

"Now i really want to pleasure you aswell" Neteyam murmured, as he started to kiss down your body.

Footsteps echoed through the cave as someone neared their secret spot. You both looking at eachother with wide eyes.

You pulled down your dress over your now sticky thighs, ignoring the warm feeling of his cum in your underwear.

Neteyam wiped your and his mouth with his hand, quickly placing you on your feet, jumping away from you instantly.

The familiar face of two of your friends, Mi,ak and Siatam entered the cave the female Na'vi startling at the two of you stood inside the small space.

"Oh hello there you two! Were you having a private conversation again?" Mi,ak said with a raised eyebrow. Siatam smiled as well, "Guys you should really talk to other people and not just yourselves! You two are way too close friends" She teased with a smile.

The two of you were known for being close friends and sneaking of to talk with eachother a lot, to your friends this wasn't strange behaviour at all. You never knew your innocent escapades from before could mean so much more now.

Luckily they didn't seem to see the change.

"Oh wel no not at all private! Haha.. were were just talking about the competition!" You somehow came up with an excuse, Neteyam giving you an impressed smile at your quick thinking.

Mi,ak and Siatam smiled broadly "Now Neteyam i have to admit that this was impressive even for you! You bested your father like it was nothing!" Mi,ak complimented, placing a tentative hand on Neteyam's shoulder. "You are a very mighty warrior.

He brushed of her hand instantly, instead grasping your arm and tugging you with him.You smiled awkwardly, very uncomfortable with the situation.

Mi'ak didn't seem to notice his rejection, only strolling after the two of you as you excited the cave. Still raving about his riding skills.

You looked around the crowd quickly, no one really noticing the strange pair and their temporary dissapearance. Except when your eyes met cold ones on the other side of the crowd, you instantly recognising them as Neytiri's, you quickly distanced yourself from Neteyam, softly nudging him to Mi'ak. He stumbled a bit accidentally getting a bit too close to the other Na'vi who stroked a hand across his chest again before joining her other friends.

When Neteyam looked back at you in confusion you slightly nudged your head toward his father. Neteyam's nodding in understanding.

He gave you a soft look before strolling toward his other friends, glancing behind him to stare at you during.

~~~

You and Neteyam had spend that whole day and the two after stealing secret glances at eachother. Jake, Neytiri and now Norm were not taking their eyes of the two of you for one second, them basically locking the two of you up night and day.

They couldn't possibly know everything that had happened. But you were sure the hair wrap had been the final nail in the coffin.

They had began pushing you and Spider together again, them constantly teaming the two of you up for things.

You noticed they had done the same to Neteyam as the boy now only seemed to do two things, which was dully strolling behind Mi'ak as they got teamed up for something random or full on glaring at Spider.

You could honestly say you really missed him, life just seemed so empty without your best friend around. Although Kiri thankfully still managed to cheer you up slightly.

It was around the end of the third day that they finally dropped their constant surveilance on the two of you.

The Metkayina clan had decided to visit your tribe the following week, the tribe had aided a lot during the Na'vi vs the sky people war. You and the other kids had all fought with them, it was a time with a lot of tears and blood spilled and none of the others really enjoyed talking about it.

You had been the only human they had tolerated there, this only after you risked your life to save the little kids of the tribe who were almost killed by a stray soldier. Spider was almost thrown to the sharks after he tried to save Quaritch, so they probably still kind of loathed him for that.

Anyway, considering the preperations of the celebration, sleeping arrangements and sustenance the 'adults' had gone on a frantic rampage to get everything ready in time.

And this made it that when you had locked eyes across the camp, and when the parents looked away you both snuck of to the only place no one would be at that time.

One of the extra halls attached to the old human base had been a pool, which was basically a 'cleaner' lake. The other scientists made sure it was still functional, as they still used it for excerise often.

This was one of the places you didn't have to wear a mask, and so Neteyam had practically forced the two of you over here.

"Why exactly did you want to meet here again?" You murmured as you turned your head to look at the large alien behind you. He just shrugged avoiding the question before placing the oxygen tank down and taking a hefty puff through the mask.

You turned to look at the pool, the water seeming strangely blue because of the tiles at the bottom. It was actually quite a deep pool you could barely see the bottom on the deep end of the pool, luckily a sort of ramp style made it that the pool became way less deep on the other end.

A lot of the lights had stopped working over the years, as now only the lights in the pool still remained functional. You noticed the water gave the room a blue tint as the reflection of the soft ripples shone on you and Neteyam.

You startled out of your thoughts as your blue alien reached around you to unbutton your pants. You let out a squeek as his hands shamelessly explored your body. "You wear too much clothes." he whispered in your ear.

"No i don't, and you can't allways rip my clothes off" you teased, a blush rising on your cheeks.

"Hm, i wouldn't mind making you new ones" he murmured as his eyes scanned your legs, you squirming under his gaze. His gaze grew more intense as you kicked of your now unbuttoned pants slowly lifting up your tanktop.

He instantly laid his warm hand on your belly his palm almost covering it entirely. You shivered at the sudden touch. "You are so soft.." he murmured to himself. He grasped onto the little bit of fat on the underside of your stomach, "I want to feel this against me again soon."

You blushed bright red as you swatted as his hands, "Neteyam! You can't just suddenly say stuff like that" you murmured.

His yellow eyes seemed almost green in the blue light, a smile circling his lips. "You are mine, and you are beautifull and soft, and i have the right to tell you that," he spoke in english this time, his Na'vi accent still visible through the words. His warm hand stubbornly remaining on your stomach as he gave you an intense stare.

Neteyam was suprisingly possesive these days, and you honestly hadn't known your gentle friend had this dominance in him. Not to mention the sudden rebelious streak he was on, actively deceiving his parents to spend time with you.

His hands moved toward your hips, softly pulling your body toward his and bending down to look you in the eye. "You are so small," he mumbled as his breath hit your face.

He placed a little peck on your nose, before his warm mouth slowly covered yours. Him dominating the kiss instantly, softly running his larger tongue through your mouth. You let out a moan, him groaning in response.

His fingers tickled your stomach softly, you letting out a squeel at the familiar action. This something he had done since he figured out as you were kids what a fun reaction he got by doing it.

He and Lo'ak often did things like that when you were kids.

A sudden idea struck you as you pulled his hands of your hips, allowing yourself to quickly slip downward making an escape as you ducked out from under him.

"Y/n?" He asked confused as he looked around to see where you ran off too. His gaze caught on a ripple in the water, him walking over to the edge to look for you, unknowingly peering into the blue abyss.

You smirked as you slowly snuck up behind him ducking down and using one of his hunting skills he had taught you when you were both young teens. The skill now proving usefull as you steadied yourself and pushed out your hands, your big blue alien letting out a scream and spashing water everywhere as he stumbled into the pool.

You laughed loudly as his head popped out from under the waves, revealing an annoyed looking Neteyam with his braids now clung to his skin.

"Your going to pay for that!" He yelled loudly, a gleefull smile revealing he wasn't actually all that annoyed with you. The sight familiar to you as you imagined a younger Neteyam doing the same, his round face and tiny body now replaced with a strong jawline and broad shoulders.

You had played like this all the time when you were kids and it was kind of nice to kind of relive that now.

His gaze turned gentle as he swam to the edge, "What are you thinking about?" He murmured, leisurely crossing his arms over the edge and placing his chin down on top.

You let out a sigh, "I guess i was just reminicing a little." You sat down next to his arms, placing your feet in the water and dangling them slightly.

Neteyam nodded softly, keeping his gaze fixed on your face.

"Do you remember going to the lakes when we were kids?" You asked, softly caressing one of his now soaked braids.

A smile spread on his lips as he gained a distant look in his eyes, "I don't think i can ever forget all that joy and happiness, we might have been young but i still remember a lot from back then." His hand grasped yours giving it a little squeeze.

"I was just afraid that all that trauma from the war might have overshadowed that," you murmured softly, thinking back to all the loss and death you had all endured so young. "Some things are still a bit muddled sometimes,"

You thought back to the time that you had gone to save Spider from the sky people. You, Lo'ak and Neteyam sneaking into the poachers boat and somehow succeeding to retrieve the other boy. Only for one of their men to show up at the last second to shoot at them, he had actually managed to hit Neteyam if it wasn't for the fact you managed to push him in the water just in time.

The only problem being that you had not taken into account that the guy would switch to swinging his gun around when his bullets ran out.

Which was how you got your lights punched out before you were plunged into the water, the guy thinking you were dead. Neteyam had looked behind him to find you, only to find your lifeless form floating right next to him.

Que the most horrifying moment ever when he thought you were dead, still dragging your body right to the nearest shore. He had basically screamed at his brother that he had forced them to go rescue Spider. When he finally calmed down a bit they recruited Tsureya to stay with your body, as they couldn't find a pulse.

Neteyam had basically gone on a murder spree, murdering a LOT of people as revenge. You scaring Tsureya's socks off as you suddenly started moving again.

Needless to say, it was a pleasant suprise for your blue alien when he returned to find you very much concussed but still alive. He had basically been your nurse the entire time you got better. Staying beside you even when you insisted he rested himself.

That was when he had first started acting strange around you allready.

You felt Neteyam squeeze your hand, pulling you from your memories. "Your thinking about the war aren't you? You do that alot these days." He murmured softly giving you a meaningfull stare.

You shrugged, averting your gaze "Don't you do it too? Especially now things changed between us."

Neteyam let out a breath, "Yes, i do. But mostly at night... when you aren't with me" His grip on your hand tightened before he spoke again. "I have a lot of nightmares these days, about.. uhm.. about losing you."

You turned to him in suprise, "About what happened back at the ship?"

He flinched before nodding, avoiding your gaze as you tried to look him in the eyes.

You slid yourself over to him, him instantly making space for you to sit on the edge in front of him.

"Teyam?" You murmured as you grasped his chin toward you, "I'm here now." You placed a kiss on his nose before placing your forehead on his.

He 'innocently' smiled, "Say if i happen to have another one of those Nightmares, you wouldn't mind if i climb into bed with you right?" His warm hands slid over your legs before settling on your hips.

You knew he was joking, but you couldn't help but take what he said seriously. "I would never mind spending time with you Neteyam, whatever the time whatever the place." You gave him a soft smile.

The look on his face warmed your insides as he smiled the biggest you had ever seen him smile. He placed his hands under your arms, lifting you off the edge of the pool and in his arms.

You let out a squeek, not at all expecting the action.Your body suddenly flush against his musculair chest as you wrapped your arms around his neck. His hands sliding downward until he held you up by your thighs.

"So good" you heard him mutter as he drew you as close as you possibly could be, his yellow eyes gaining that primal tint you had seen only once before as he observed your form.

A familiar warmth grew between your legs, you struggling to keep your cool because of it. You really only wanted one thing, and you needed it right now. You needed that delicious fullness right now, you even slightly wanting the pain that came with it.

"Neteyam?" You asked softly as his eyes instantly flashed to yours, "Well uhm... ithinkimreadytohavesexwithyouagain" Your words were impossible to decipher, your big blue guy staring at you with concerned eyes.

"Are you allr..." he began before you cut him off, softly pressing a finger to his lips.

"I... think" you took a deep breath "I'm ready to uhm.. have sex with you.. again." You murmered as you covered your blush with your hands. "Roughly." You added, your mind straying toward the bruises and hard thrusting you had enjoyed the first time.

Neteyam let out a low growl, "Roughly?" He asked, releasing a shaky sigh as you nodded. "I need to hear you say it y/n," He murmured, grasping your face with your hand.

You let out a whine, "I want you to fill me so deeply i can barely breath,.ah... i want you to take control" you finally moaned out,

Your big blue alien stepped backwards a bit, suddenly loosing his footing.

A huge splash of water rippled the pool as Neteyam stumbled, effectively dunking you both under water, totally disorienting you as you went under.

You both reached the surface of the water at the same time, catching your breath. Neteyam instantly scanning around himself to find you. You letting out a loud laugh as his eyes hit yours, splashing him with a little wave of water.

The tension from before momentarily forgotten as you played in the water.

He gave you a comically insulted look, it quickly turning relieved as he saw your smile. "You little skang!" He yelled as he used his large arm to send you a wave, it washing over you instantly.

"Oh come on, this is not a fair fight!" You exclaimed loudly, teasingly kicking him in the shin.

He let out an exaterated whine before he threw his body toward you picking you up under your arms, him dropping you afterwards. You felt some water enter your nose as you went under, you sputtering slightly in suprise.

He lifted you up again, "Shouldn't have contended me, ma y/n." He murmured into your ear, it a reference to the play water fights you would have as children.

He placed his arms around you softly, you both taking a second to just bask in eachothers presence. His arms settled around you in a way you only saw and felt him.

After a short while you felt his breath turn uneven, "Teyam, you really need oxygen" You warned.

Neteyam hesitantly let you go but finally swam toward the other side of the pool lifting himself on the edge before taking a puff of oxygen from the tank.

He turned to look at you, "That was unexpected." he murmured with an humorous smile on his face. Him obviously meaning the tension and then the tumble you guys just took.

"Now this totally killed my mood here, welp guess we'll just go back to the rest." You shrugged, sarcastically turning away from him and starting to swim away.

"OH no you don't," Neteyam yelled jokingly but not that jokingly at the same time.

You laughed, "Well i suppose you'll have to catch me then!" You taunted him giving him a meaningfull look.

He smirked before he walked over to the edge of the water, peering down on your form a little ways ahead.,

You underestimate me little mate! I'll catch you faster than you think!" He exclaimed loudly as you heard a loud splash behind you, Neteyam giving chase.

You swam toward the shallow end of the pool as quickly as your limbs would allow, slowly making your way toward the ramp, the water now coming up to your waist as you waided through at record speed.

You felt him gain on you,

You slowly kept crawling upward the water splashing loudly as you practically threw yourself forward, adrenaline rushing through your body as you heard the sound of his large body getting closer and closer to your smaller form.

You noticed him reach out to grab you a little too late, you stumbling down on your stomach. You were about to sit up too crawl when you were held down by two large legs pinning you too the ground. His large member sitting right on your ass.

"Got you" Neteyam whispered in your ear as his hands pinned yours to the dry part of the ramp, only your bottom half still fully submerged.

"Well, claim your price then my love" You murmured softly as you jokingly shook your bottom at him. He let out an excited growl, rutting against your body roughly. You letting out a moan as you felt his cock slip down, just missing your clothed entrance as it landed between your folds.

He sat on his knees around your legs, your ass pushed upwards toward him. Neteyam letting out a frustrated sigh and simply tearing off your bra and underwear, you letting out a gasp at the sting of the clothes digging into your skin as they tore. He threw the shreds somewhere to his right before reaching his hand down and placing the head of his cock at your entrance.

You shivered at the sudden sensitivity of your folds. You whimpering as you tried to dig your nails into the tiled pool. You tried to catch your breath from your running, failing immensely.

He pushed in without warning, you dropping yourself on your stomach with a breathless groan as he filled you to the brim. His large member stretching you out instantly, it feeling like it set aflame every sensitive place in your body all at once.

You tried to catch your breath, gasping heavily as your body adjusted to the large intruder. The filled feeling foreign but familiar as you could feel the tip of his cock reach far into you.

He groaned in your ear "You can't run away from me my mate," his breath uneven as he set a sudden harsh pace, his cock pulling all the way out of you before slamming into you again.

You were slowly pushed forward as he thrusted into you, his hands settled on your waist to keep you still.

You whined under him, your cunt a tingling mess as you took him, you feeling him so deep in your body you could see stars. "Oh god, your so deep" You moaned out, not able to keep the words in.

You tried to push yourself up on your underarms, intending to scootch yourself forward a bit. Him sliding out of you a little as you moved away from him.

You were pulled back harshly, a deep voice whispering in your ear. "Stay here" Neteyam demanded as he pulled your arms behind you, your body angling backwards as he slammed into you again, you feeling your belly rub against the tile with every thrust. His pace became more irregulair, you unnable to calculate his next move and completely at his mercy.

This new position drove him right into your sweet spot, your orgasm approaching fast and your eyes growing hazy as your surroundings went blurry. You let out a highpitched moan, your body shaking terribly as your cunt squeezed his cock uncontrollably.

Neteyam let out a feral groan, pushing your body back down practically laying on you as he drove himself in and out of you. He was animalistic as he growled and hugged your body to his in a posessive embrace.

You had never felt him like this, but you couldn't help but like it as he dominated your body in every sense. It was like your mind grew empty for a second, the only thing in your mind the hot pleasure coursing through your veins and the satisfying feeling of fullness in your stomach.

And every time he growled and ground himself into you, you felt yourself floating farther from your body. Your entire being overtaken by him as you let out unfiltered moans. "Oh please, please, please" you heard your voice come out of your throst even when you didn't remember speaking them.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you really hoped no one would come anywhere near to the back of the human base. It a sure fact that they would hear the absolute massacre taking place. The huge alien rutting into you like a rabid animal, and you taking it like a bitch in heat.

He suddenly slowed down, his pace slower but his thrusts harsher than before as your body was harshly pushed into the tiles, your warm head settled on the cold surface as you let out incoherent words of satisfaction. You were scooted forwards like a rag doll as he moved you at his will. "Yes you are doing so well, my little mate. You are so damn tight." He murmured in your ear again, his warm breath tickling your neck.

You felt him swell up inside of you, your body tingling as Neteyam let out a hoarse moan, his seed spilling inside your womb and pumping it farther into you. The squelching obscene as it echoed through the dark pool.

You felt the knot in your stomach unravel suddenly but harshly as you let out a final moan, your legs shaking even harder than before and your body basically going limp on the tiles. Your brain too fucked out to even think.

The blue light of the pool faded away for a second as black spots covered your vision, a loud ringing filling your ears.

"Y/n, ...re .... allright?" You heard Neteyam ask you something, but your mind struggled to figure out what he had said.

You frowned in confusion as you felt Neteyam shake you a bit, "Y/n..please.. r...ond.." a panicked tone filtered in his words, you feeling his weight lift off of your limbs.

You curled your legs into your chest, placing your arms under yourself but letting out a whimper as you failed to sit up. Your heartbeat soared in your ears, it like a drum as it pounded in your head. His eyes widening as your eyes rolled upward, your vision fading.

"Y/N?" Neteyam's loud shout echoed through your mind. Your eyes shot open, revealing your big blue guy above you you as his palms softly hit your cheeks to keep you awake. "Teyam?" You murmured softly, a relieved look on his face as you acknowledged him.

You felt his arms slip around your body as he gently lifted you of the ground, you blinked.

When you opened your eyes again, you were cradled in Neteyam's arms. Your naked body flush against his. One of his arms holding you steady and the other one supporting your head. You weren't in the pool anymore, now sitting on the tile by your clothes. You stared around with dumbfounded eyes, "W..What happened?" You asked weakly.

Neteyam stared at you with worried eyes "You just didn't respond, i didn't know what to do." He mumbled softly as tears filled his eyes, slowly running down his cheeks. "I was just so worried, I'm so sorry." he murmured into your still damp hair.

You softly pushed your forehead against his, "It's not your fault," You let out a slow breath before sitting up in his arms.

"Why did you pass out? Did i push you too far?" He asked worriedly.

You shook your head, "No, no, not at all, i think i pushed myself too far... you did... amazing."

You leaned forward, softly kissing away his tears. A soft smile circling your lips afterwards, as you softly pressed the tip of your nose to the spots on his face.

"You felt so good, it was like i lost my mind. It was like something came over me." His eyes were still wild, no doubt still calming down from his orgasm.

"I had the same, you really are mine" You murmured in his ear,

Neteyam's eyes met your own again, his eyes soft and so filled with affection you could barely breathe. "I see you." He murmured softly, as he placed his hand on your cheek.

"I see you" you murmured, placing your arms around his warm chest as he did the same. You stayed in his embrace for a while as you both calmed down from your high both in the emotional and in the physical sense.

After a while you both got up, your body aching in so many places you would surely have to check in a mirror later. You slowly put on your clothes, your big blue guy keeping a close eye on you during.

"I really hurt you..." Neteyam murmured as he trailed his fingers over the allready forming bruises on your arms and legs

His fingers slowly brushed over to your neck, his hands tracing a few spots there. "I have marked you here as well." He did seemed pleased at 'that' thought, his stance instantly growing taller as he observed the love bites on your neck.

You finished dressing quite quickly, you both finally ready to sneak out the pool. "Shit" you cursed as you stared at the black nothingness.

Neteyam looked at you in confusion, "What is it?"

"Look outside"

...."Shit"

You quickly grabbed his hand dragging him with you as you entered the dark hallway. Him just allowing himself to move with you as you peered around the narrow passages thankfully able to navigate in the dark.

"We have to move quickly here" you murmured as you stuck your head out into the main hall, quickly peering around to see if you saw any scientists wandering around thankfully seeing the corridor entirely empty.

You pulled him into the hallway, slowly crouching/crawling under the windows to the labs, you knowing that some of the human workers liked to work late.

You had no idea what time it was, but you sincerily hoped it wasn't past nine yet. Neytiri, Jake and Norm would trow a fit if they appeared past curfew again.

The pair of you slowly neared the avatar room where the big metal door leading outside was located, his big blue form sticking out like a sore thumb as they sneaked past the various hallways leading there.

You crouched beside the doorframe, peering into the room. It was silent in there safe for the occasional snore, you looking back at Neteyam to see if he heard anything. He gave you a silent nod, slowly moving in front of you this time as he grasped your smaller hand in his to guide you forward. You both sneaking past the giant tanks, one of them containing Kiri's mother..which was honestly quite weird.

You finally had the door in sight, Neteyam reaching forward to grab the handle as you both stood up. "Goodni...." you were interupted by his lips on your own as his large hand cupped your face. You gasped as his tongue entered your mouth, him groaning as your teeth grazed his lips.

You felt yourself get carried away, him apparently having the same problem as he harshly slammed your back against the wall. Your legs wrapped around his waist pulling him toward you as his hands roughly kneaded your behind.

"Okay... we... should.. really stop" You mumbled between kisses. Neteyam only letting out an dejected moan before unwillingly pulling away from you, softly setting you back down on your feet.

"I shall see you tommorow" He murmured giving you one last kiss and stepping out the door.

Your private moment being way less private than the both of you thought.

(Welp! That was part two! Again please let me know if you liked it! I think I will only do a part 3 if you guys want me to! Also let me know if i need to be more descriptive, I am sometimes not sure if i put enough.)

Link to part 3:

Link to part 1!:

[staytinyville]

OUTLAW (21)

ATEEZ poly!ot8 x Reader

Cowboy AU / Wild West

Series Masterlist

Warning: none, mentions of the previous chapters

A/N BETA READ (@mariana-mmtz). Just know I am reading every single one of your comments and reblogs. I love them so much!

You kept an eye on Jongho, who stayed quiet the entire trip back to the boys. You were glancing at him every so often, sighing when he just stared ahead. He didn’t bother to look at you, which left you a mess. 

It was way past the middle of the night by then, but the boys assured you it was not a problem. The one lantern they were using was enough to light the way. As you all pulled up to the camp, it was quiet until someone opened up their tent to take a look at what the noise was. 

“What are y'all doing back?” Hongjoong asked, walking closer to the four of you. 

“Plans changed.” Yunho sighed, pulling you off of his horse. As you walked into the camp, the others had moved to put their horses where the others were. 

San had gotten out of his tent, looking around and finding you waiting. He took notice of your tired expression, walking closer to you.

“You alright, Darling?” He asked, placing his hands on your arms. 

You tried to give him a smile, but you were too emotionally tired. “Yeah. I'm fine, San.” You told him.

“We're here if you need anything.” He continued, rubbing his hand along your sleeve.

“I know you are.” You whispered with a smile. “I appreciate it.”

“You wanna go to sleep?” San perked up, pulling you along. “You can sleep in my tent. Let's get you into some other clothes.”

You had a tired smile the whole time the man spoke to you. You allowed him to drag you into his tent, quickly moving about to find a clean shirt to give you. When he found what he needed, he handed it to you before moving back out the tent without a word. 

You were grateful for how gentlemanly they all were. They could tease you all they wanted, but they for sure knew how to respect others. It was something you found yourself admiring. They were not at all what one would dare consider criminals. At least not when you got to know them. It left a bubbly feeling in your chest to think about them at all.

When you had finished dressing, San walked back in, giving a closed eyed smile when he took you in. A blush was starting to settle on his cheeks as he enjoyed the sight of you in his clothing. 

“Thanks for the shirt.” You spoke up, moving to sit down on his bedroll. 

San watched as your shoulders dropped and you began to fidget with your fingers. He knew the tale-tell signs that you were stuck in your own head and it was making you emotional. 

“Hey, please talk to me.” San spoke up, kneeling down in front of you. “I know something's bothering you.”

Your bottom lip trembled as you tried not to cry in front of San. The man looked intimidating–seemed like he frightened just about anyone with how wide he looked. However, he was the sweetest man you had ever met. You knew he was someone who would listen to you. 

“I had a fight with my parents.” You softly told him.

“Those sometimes happen.” San scooted closer, moving to your side. 

Tears started to pool in your eyes once more, lips wobbling as you tried to speak. “Yeah, but not because they think you're a–a who-”

“You are not!” San stopped you from finishing. He looked at you with furrowed eyebrows, almost offended you dared to say that. “Don't ever think for one moment you are.” He shook his head. 

Your mind wandered back to earlier in the day, trying your hardest to justify what you had done. You knew that there was something wrong with what you were thinking. You were even honest with Mingi after he had kissed you. Not only that, you didn’t know which one of them you liked in a romantic sense and it left you in a dilemma. 

There was nothing wrong with liking multiple men, however in the end there was only one a woman could choose. But did you really want to pick just one of them? You were the kind of person who wanted to get to know someone before even thinking about them romantically. And you had spent enough time with some of the boys to know that you were starting to like them. 

And because of that, it made you think that your parents were right about you. Who in their right minds liked multiple boys? Who would dare to even tell them that?

“But-I kisses Mingi-” You choked out.

“What does kissing Mingi have anything to do with what you are saying?” San frowned. 

“Because I don't know what to do with my feelings for everything.” Everyone was what you wanted to tell him. However, that involved telling him that you liked them all. 

“Do you like Mingi?” San asked, looking at you as he waited for your answer. 

As you looked at him, everything seemed to flood in as you didn’t really know what to tell him. How were you supposed to answer him when he looked at you with kind eyes? He was a patient man who valued your words. You were a dead woman with how they all treated you. 

“Yes? Maybe. I don't know.” You groaned. “It's complicated.” Your shoulders dropped as you thought about what to tell him. “After he saved me, I feel like things changed.”

“Good or bad?” He tilted his head.

There was a fine line between knowing what was good and what was bad. You had your very obvious ones that made you look stupid if you didn’t think about it before. However, when it came to the feelings a human has, there were a lot of troublesome details that fell into it. 

Your feelings were your own, just as theirs were. In your head you knew it didn’t matter what others thought of it because it was what you wanted. They weren’t going to be the ones who supported you when things got tough. Perhaps your family was always going to be there, but if it was what made you happy, why would you give it up just to please them?

But they were still your family. They had taken care of you your entire life, up until that point, and will probably be the only people who knew better than anyone else. You cared deeply for their opinions, which left you with an aching heart over choosing your happiness or the safe route of staying at home.

“I can't answer that if I don't know.” You explained. “And the only reason I think that, is because I don't know if it's normal to think the way I do.”

“I'm sure you'll figure it out.” San patted your knee, humming.

You’ll figure it out? Figure out exactly what? That you were being pulled in different directions and didn’t know which one to take? You didn’t ever think that liking a man would be so troublesome. But then again, the first time you would ever like one, it just had to be multiple men. 

You had no idea what it was like to court someone, nor to have someone court you. You never really got past a first date with someone and didn’t get to experience the full thing of having someone listen to you, make you laugh, make you cry, save you. There was something about having someone do those kinds of things with you that made you regret not knowing about it sooner. 

However, thinking about it, if you had someone already there, would you have ever met the boys? They left you breathless because of how they looked at you. They didn’t make you feel like you were insufferable. It made you feel like you were on top of the world.

The problem in everything, though, lies in the fact that while you weren’t going to fall in a hole, the others were going to. What happens if in the end you could only choose one and the others are left to their devices? Were you really going to come in between them like that? You were being selfish.

“What happens when I do, though?” You sighed to yourself. “Someone is gonna get hurt either way.”

“Why would they get hurt?” 

“Because it's not normal-”

“Nobody will be normal, so long as one other person will think of you weird.” San frowned. “I still haven't found normal and honestly I wouldn't want to.” A soft smile crossed his features. 

“That would mean finding what everyone else thinks I should and should not be doing. I love what I do. And the others make it all the more better.” San turned to you. “Darling, no matter what you want in the end, we'll respect it. We'll respect you. Nobody is rushing you to find out what you want.”

You could remember Mingi had said just about the same thing. It made you wonder if they truly knew what it was you were talking about. You weren’t being completely honest and talked around the real problem. But it seemed like they knew you more than you thought. 

“Thank you, San.” You smiled, taking in his features.

“You're welcome.” His eyes closed as his lips pulled into a smile.

“Sweetheart, you're staying here?!” You and San turn to the entrance of the tent, watching Wooyoung pronounce into the space. “You look so adorable!” He cooed, eyes drifting over your body in San’s clothing. 

“The others have gotten you for far too long and I want to stay with you.” He made himself comfortable on the bedroll, pulling you down to lay next to him. “Sannie, come lay down with us.” He spoke up, calling for his friend.

You started to giggle as Wooyoung’s hands tickled you lightly, squirming away from his touch. San chuckled, scooting himself closer to both of you. “Coming, Woo.”

San and Wooyoung whispered to each other as you laid between them. They both seemed to be bickering, which caused laughs to quietly fall from your lips. They were like a married couple. Wooyoung would say something and San would try to agree no matter how stupid the boy sounded. It left a smile on your face as you drifted off to dreamland in their arms. 

You were baffled, though. There was so much you were missing in the picture–so much you didn’t know about them–that it made you worried about how much you cared about them. It was important to know the person you wanted to be with, even if in this time it wasn’t common. You knew that at one point you would need to separate yourself from them for fear of tearing them apart. 

But you wanted to be selfish just a bit more.

Series Masterlist

@thefrog3223 , @iarayara , @0rangemilk , @explorewithd , @detectivedoodle , @bangtanxberm , @a1i33a , @loveforred , @drunken-deitence , @0325tiny , @the-ghostest-with-the-mostest , @atinyreads , @atinytinaa , @lexiigom , @smilingtokki, @mismatchfluffysocks , @brain-empty-only-draken , @sousydive , @alex-tinyy , @h3arteyes4mingi , @onedumbho3 , @popcatx0 , @blue1amory , @mommahwa1117 , @stvrfir3 , @sunnyhokyu , @cloudieclair , @araknoid , @starjoongi1117 , @chel-awingcherry ,

[jakes3resin]

Drops this here and flees back to my A/B/O fic doc

"You're a Brit?" The question comes from Curt, and Bucky bites the inside of his cheek.

"Parents were." Bucky says simply turning back to his drink, but Curt's three drinks deep and knows Bucky too well by now to let him get away with that answer.

"But you said you're from Wisconsin?"

"I am," Bucky nods. Curt gives him a look, and Bucky can feel Buck staring at him. "I was raised there after I turned 3. Came here for a few years for boarding school, but my aunt and uncle brought me back before I turned 18."

"How come?" Croz joins in setting down a tray of drinks, and Bucky wishes they'd let this go. There's a reason he doesn't talk about all this.

"I asked." Bucky smiles. "The weather sucks, and I was bored."

"Sorry chaps, did you just say you went to boarding school here?" One of the RAF pilots that likes to stick their nose into Bucky's conversations butts in. Bucky resists the urge to bang his head against the table.

"This fella, right here." Curt smacks Bucky's shoulder, and Bucky sends him a look to cut it out. He catches Buck's eye and sees the questions building in his blue eyes. Bucky turns away. He can't answer those questions.

"Where abouts?" The RAF pilot clearly doesn't see how done with this topic Bucky is.

"Scotland." Bucky answers with a sharp grin. "Old school, but you won't know it."

"Bloody hell," The man stares at Bucky wide-eyed, and he can feel Buck tensing, whether it's to defend Bucky or to stop him from doing something stupid that's still unclear. "You didn't go to Hogwarts, did you?"

Bucky freezes. He stares up at the Brit, grin sharp and eyes a bit dangerous. Most wizards know not to talk too loudly about magic around Muggles and No-Majs, but this guy's deeper in his cups than half the bar.

"For a few years." Bucky confirms sounding like he was pulling out teeth with each word. "You go there too?"

"Of course! Sorted right into Gryffindor!" The man straightens up suddenly affronted that Bucky would dare even think the opposite. "It's the finest school!"

"This side of the Atlantic sure." Bucky leans back, trying to distance himself.

"If you went to Hogwarts, what are you doing palling around with this bunch?"

"Cause I want to." Bucky watches Curt glare at the Brit, but he's calling over more Brits before any of them can stop him.

"Reginald! Listen to this, this chap here says he went to Hogwarts!" The shocked looks on the faces of the gathered British pilots makes Bucky question how the hell they've kept magic secret for centuries. If a few drunk flyboys can talk this openly, what the hell are they doing to keep the secret?

"Preposterous," Bucky thinks it's Reginald who says that, but he doesn't care. "Hogwarts doesn't allow Americans. You, what family are you from?"

"Family?" Croz murmurs looking lost. Buck's gaze is still sitting heavy on Bucky's shoulders. Bucky sighs, truly over these idiots.

"Why do you wanna know all that?" Curt glares up at Reginald. He doesn't understand what the man's on about, but he knows he's insulting Bucky.

"Only the most noble houses could pull an American into Hogwarts." Reginald sniffs, and out of the corner of his eye, Bucky sees Buck finally turn his attention away to place a calming hand on Curt's shoulder. Curt settles back unhappily. "Riffraff doesn't make the cut."

"Right, riffraff," Bucky murmurs. Buck swings his focus back to him now.

"So, out with it!" One of the other Brits urges.

"Out with what?" Bucky says with a laugh. "You boys know my name."

"Yes, but what Noble House do you come from?" The original Brit rolls his eyes at him obviously over Bucky's stalling.

"Is this really that important?" Croz tries to intervene, but the RAF boys steamroll over him.

"Unless of course, you're lying about attending Hogwarts." One of the flyboys grins mockingly. Bucky grits his teeth. This is why he doesn't talk about his family. Brits always going on and on about blood and prestige. He hates it. "Trying to fit in, are we?"

Bucky stares up at them. There's a reason he'd kept his old name quiet. He doesn't want the fuss. But it looks like he has no choice here. These boys won't leave him alone until he coughs it up.

"Scamander, got it?" Bucky grins up at the idiots surrounding him. His hands twitch, a phantom weight in his palm that he ignores. "Now beat it."

"Great Scott, don't tell me you're related to Theseus Scamander?"

Bucky sucks at his teeth.

"That's my cousin." He admits, hoping this will be enough to sate their curiosity. He's wrong. The boys explode, some asking questions, others denying that he's related to such an esteemed gentleman.

Buck's gaze has never felt so heavy.

[the-words-we-sung]

Thoughts and pictures - S3E1

So after digesting my first watch a little bit, I'm starting my rewatch of this season and I'll share a few thoughts and reactions (and screenshots) because I can't keep it all to myself 😱

I was happy that we dived directly into the (sort of) trial and confrontation between Wilhelm, Simon and August. I do wonder how much time passed between the speech and this scene though. It sets the tone for the entire season for Wilhelm: he's gonna be alone, with no support whatsoever from his parents. He enters the room alone, his parents arrive after him and his mother doesn't even look at him... Simon arrives with his mother and August with his stepdad. But Wilhelm has to deal with the situation alone (aka how to get incredibly mad at Kristina barely 5min into the season 😤)

Simon looks so pretty and so sad. (And how did Omar manage to look even younger this season??) He wants to be done with this whole thing. Also I checked but 1.2 millions kronor is not as much as I thought it would be (it's apparently around 107 000€, which is not bad, but I was expecting more)

I see what you did there Simon 😏 (Can someone gif this scene and put it in parallel with Wilhelm seeing Simon's room for the first time and saying "cozy" in season 1? :p)

The boys coming back to the meeting: very smooth. Nobody knows what you were doing. Nop. Not at all. (We can see Linda kinda smirking when Simon sits back whereas Kristina looks like she just ate a very sour lemon). Wilhelm arranging his hair and Simon smiling at him: they might be in the middle of an important meeting and at the Palace but they're still 2 teenage boys in love (and I love them for that 💜)

Rickard looked and sounded like such an idiot in the previous seasons that I didn't expect him to actually be competent! But I guess we were mostly seeing him through August's eyes... I know Rickard said he was the best lawyer in the country but I have to admit that I thought he was just bragging ^^' Also: August is such an asshole. Did he really need to rile up Wilhelm like that? He's got quite the confidence to attack him and tell him how he just fuck things up on his own, in front of everyone like that, including the queen. Who, again, is not defending her son!! She tells them to shut up but she says nothing to August for talking like that to her son 😠

(They look like they've been called to the principal office). Kristina doesn't look at them immediately, she looks at Erik's picture on her desk first. Then she looks at August. And then finally at Wilhelm. She is so awful to him this season... Right from the start. And then she breaks down crying for Erik.

While Wilhelm holds her. I wasn't expecting to see her grieve so much this season. We didn't see that at all in season 2. Is it because she repressed all of her emotions too much? I hate that she breaks down like that just after Wilhelm publicly coming out. How can she not be there for him. I get that it must be hard to lose a son, but she still has a very alive one, who needs her.

Kristina is not getting redeemed in this season but Linda kinda is! I was super happy to see her get in mama bear's mode at the trial ^^ It was about time!! But here: I'm sorry Linda but it's not your son's role to keep you updated about what's going on in your house! You're the mother! Stop putting everything on this kid's shoulders!! Maybe he never tells you but do you ever ask??

Simon being truly angry at Sara is so good. I am so happy so he's able to feel that way and to not feel like he has to repress it, to forgive her, to help her. She did something truly bad and he's allowed to be mad. Also look at his angry lil' face 💜

In things that made me laugh: Wilhelm's reaction and face to learning that Simon is grounded all semester xD He was talking all smoothly/flirty and then his tone changes so dramatically when he realizes he won't be able to get his boyfriend in his bed very soon! Horny boy is horny (and frustrated :p)

This faaaaaace ☹

I'm happy to see that Simon still has Ayub and Rosh here to support him. I wish they would have told him that replying to comments online was a bad idea though. You know the saying kids: don't feed the trolls!!

Wilhelm looks like such a normal teenager when he gets back to his room. First time we see him so carefree. It breaks my heart to know that on the other side Simon is so unwell already.

Wilhelm waking up happy and smiling. And being just a teenager (for the first time in a very long time): thinking about his boyfriend, redrawing the heart on his hand. It's such teenager things!! My boy just wants to have a normal life... (And then he's immediately reminded that he's actually not just a regular teenager with Farima's text).

Simon's worried face when he asks about Wilhelm's initiation. You can see he's truly horrified at the idea that he might have gone through what's been described in the article.

And then it starts: the piling up of everything on Wilhelm's shoulders. First his mother looking really unwell and breaking down (even though she hasn't been said to be officially ill yet), and now the negative impact of his speech on the school... Which Vincent takes great pleasure in reminding him about.

This first episode is really good at setting things in motion. We see already the beginning of what's gonna go down during this season: Simon not feeling well, dealing with online hatred, struggling with his new place next to Wilhelm in the spotlight. And Wilhelm trying to finally live a carefree life at school with his boyfriend now that he's officially out but slowly getting crushed under the pressure of his role as Crown Prince and the increasingly obvious lack of support from his parents.

[modanisgf]

DAYLIGHT , HANNI PHAM

note— it’s 3am so not proof read sorry 😭😭

☆ pairing(s): student hanni pham x reader

☆ warning(s): a bit of angst, bad writing

LOVE, a word that was foreign to y/n before she met hanni.

y/n liked to believe that love wasn’t real, every romantic relationship she had ended poorly. even her parents relationship had failed.

so what made her believe in it again?

TAPE ONE , THE MEETING

08/23/18

hanni pham, the day she walked into y/n’s first period as a new student would be a day the girl would never forget.

she remembered it well too well even, hanni had walked in nervously and in a rush but still looking as pretty as ever.

“y/n are you okay?” danielle, y/n’s friend asks.

“yeah.” the love struck girl responds simply.

danielle giggles quietly at her friends actions watching as hanni tried to find a seat.

“hey can i sit here?” hanni asks, her voice soft as she was still rather nervous.

“oh yeah, of course!” danielle responds smiling.

“thank you.” hanni says smiling back.

y/n swore she felt the world pause as her and hanni made eye contact. they stared at each other for a bit before y/n looked away embarrassed.

“so what’re your guys names?” hanni asks trying to move away from what had just happened.

“i’m danielle!”

“y/n.”

hanni nods, “i’m hanni.”

“nice to meet you.” y/n says smiling sincerely.

hanni was caught off guard by this, ‘her smile is so pretty.’ she thought smiling back at the girl.

the girls only got closer over time even becoming friends with others, expanding the group.

though as time went on hanni and y/n’s feelings for each other grew.

and they couldn’t keep denying it.

TAPE TWO , WHAT IS LOVE?

11/27/21

“dani?” y/n calls out to her friend, who turns around to face her.

“hm?” danielle responds.

“what is your definition of love?” y/n asks.

“love is a feeling of affection for someone or something, there’s different types.” danielle says, “like you wouldn’t love your family the same way you love a romantic partner y’know?” she finishes, y/n nodding.

“so how do i know if i’m in love with someone, like romantically?” y/n asks softly, embarrassed to be asking her friend this.

“i mean whenever i have a crush i just feel really giddy around the person. my heart usually beats faster, or i get flustered.” danielle explains.

“so what exactly do i do if i have a crush on someone?” y/n asks finally.

danielle knew this was coming, she was glad it was finally happening.

“you confess. in my opinion it’s better to take the risk i guess, you never know if the person will move on because of miscommunication or something.” danielle says.

“okay, thank you dani.”

“anything for you, y/n.”

TAPE THREE , CRUSH

11/28/21

“hanni!” y/n yells, walking faster to catch up to her friend.

hanni turns around after hearing her name her heart melting as she sees y/n walk towards her. y/n had changed up her appearance a bit, seemingly that she had got her hair done and put makeup on.

“y/n?” hanni asks as the changed girl finally stops in front of her.

“i need to talk to you.” y/n says grabbing hanni’s hand and dragging her elsewhere.

hanni for sure was blushing now her mind still not done thinking about y/n’s new appearance. she looked so good, how could hanni not be stuck on it?

the two finally entered an empty classroom, y/n shutting the door behind them. they made themselves comfy before y/n took a deep breath.

“promise me you won’t hate me?” she asks.

“y/n i would never hate you.” hanni confirms, flustering the girl in front of her.

“i’m not really good with words when it comes to being romantic, so i’ll be as straight up as i can.” y/n starts, “hanni, i like you a lot ever since we met i felt different around you and i wasn’t exactly sure why.”

“but now that i am, i’ve wanted nothing more than to be yours. so will you allow me to?” y/n finishes, preparing herself for rejection.

not even hesitating, hanni leans in kissing y/n softly the two not pulling away until they needed air.

“so.. does that me you’ll be my girlfriend?” y/n asks teasingly.

hanni rolls her eyes playfully, “y/n, i would love to.” she smiles sincerely.

y/n flashing her same smile back from the day they first met, making hanni’s heart melt all over again.

“I ONCE BELIEVED LOVE WOULD BE BURNING RED, BUT IT’S GOLDEN.”

[katyswrites]

don't call me 'baby'

PART 2 | SERIES

Pairing: Steve Harrington/fem!reader

Warnings: Sugardaddy!Steve, swearing, alcohol use, smoking, references to vomit/drinking too much, age gap

Wordcount: 4.4k

A sugar daddy modern AU, a whirlwind summer romance in Italy, and two people from completely different walks of life, somehow finding each other in one of the most beautiful cities in the world. But, what will happen when summer ends?

PART 2 | is it chill that you're in my head?

The next few weeks passed in a blur. With the semester officially wrapped, you threw yourself into working - early morning shifts at the coffee shop, then weekend nights Enoteca Bruni, slinging cocktails and lighting cigars, smiling prettily for high-end customers and their massive wallets. Fridays were the worst - working a double, swapping out your apron for a cocktail dress as you went from one job to the other, often fixing your hair and doing your makeup on the bus ride in between. 

It had been a bit of a culture shock, moving out to Rome. You had never envisioned moving abroad, but the offer had come from AUR with a great scholarship; it involved getting the Hell out of your parents’ house, working towards a degree, and starting a new life in Rome. Not knowing the language had been the hardest - you had spent nearly your entire first year enrolled in Italian classes, taking time to read newspapers, watch local television, and do everything you could to immerse yourself in the language. It wasn’t second-nature, exactly, but you found yourself switching from English to Italian easily now, thankfully. It was probably what landed you the job at Enoteca - they usually only took people with more restaurant experience (or the prettiest, you would later realize). But, an American girl, who spoke fluent Italian? It had made you invaluable, considering how many business executives and high-profile people from around the world dined there. 

That was probably why the experience a few weeks ago hadn’t shaken you all too much; you had become used to groups like that, men who were used to getting what they wanted, whenever they wanted. Still, when you allowed your mind to wander, or you had a moment or two to rest, you found yourself thinking of Steve Harrington.

It was rarely on purpose - the vision of the man encroached on your mind when you least expected, sticking and seeping through your brain like syrup. You had felt guilty about the money, initially - while some kind (and usually American) customers tipped, it wasn’t common on this side of the world. And, moreover, it had been far more than what was anywhere near reasonable, no matter how expensive their bill ended up being. Was he hitting on you? That wouldn’t have been the first time - plenty of pushy, or downright pervy customers had insisted on tipping you, slipping you a phone number with the cash. But, he hadn’t done that - there wasn’t any contact information, not even a return address. And, he didn’t seem like that - he could’ve made more of a move on you that night in the car, if he really wanted. It was confusing, more than anything - no matter how you had tried to rationalize it, the generous gesture was simply bizarre. That was probably why you found yourself thinking of him on occasion - why else would you be?

It was the last weekend of May, when it happened. If you had been back in the States, you supposed it would’ve been a long holiday weekend, thanks to Memorial Day. But here, it was just another Friday night. And, a rare blessing - you actually had the night off. Well, you had arranged for the night off. It had been a terrible week, beyond exhausting. When you had come home, last night, Robin had taken one look at you, and shook her head.

“No,” she said firmly.

“Huh?” you asked, plopping down in a kitchen chair.

“You need to take a night off, you’re miserable,” she said, sitting herself across from you.

“I need to work,” you explained. “In case you forgot, we need to pay rent.”

“Yeah,” Robin agreed. “But, you know… last I checked, a certain richy-rich business bro took care of that -”

“That cash is only gonna last so long, Robs.”

“Don’t you get it? That was his way of telling you to take a break - they love you at the restaurant. You never miss, just call out - and then we can go out tomorrow, and actually have fun, for once.”

You opened your mouth to protest, then stopped yourself - you carefully considered what your friend was proposing. The two of you rarely took time to have fun anymore - Robin once joked that you were both old ladies already, working all day and tucked in bed early most nights. You and her were often rolling coins for groceries, and you had treated yourselves to an actual sitdown dinner next week thanks to Steve’s money - it had felt extravagant, but nice. 

Buy yourself something nice, Steve’s note had said.

“Yeah, okay,” you conceded. “Let’s go out tomorrow, yeah?”

That was how you found yourself out that night, stuffed into your favorite jeans and flashy top, face made-up and six drinks deep at some nightclub, one of Robin’s favorite haunts from college. The air was hazy, the music loud, and you found yourself letting go, as best as you could.

Robin made her way through the crowd to you, shots in-hand, despite your earlier protests.

“Robs - no -”

“C’mon, live a little!” she shouted. “And don’t worry, it’s not tequila - I know how you get with tequila.”

You rolled your eyes, toasting her as you downed the shot, the liquor burning your tongue and throat as it went down. Robin grinned, pressing herself close to you as she asked, “Are ya having fun?”

You nodded, smiling. 

“Yeah, actually - I am,” you admitted. “But - I’ve got to get some air,” you said, pulling your pack of cigarettes out of your pocket and waving them.

Robin groaned.

“Those’ll kill you, you know,” she shouted as you headed for the door.

“We can only hope!” you sent back playfully over your shoulder.

You made your way through sweaty bodies and dodged the splashes of drinks, forcing your way out into the cooler night. 

The summer was in its infancy, the evenings still cool enough to raise goosebumps on the skin, to remind you that spring wasn’t quite done yet. It was a welcome change, the bar inside nearly suffocating with the pure volume of people. And more importantly, outside, it’s quiet. Yes, it’s still a city, the din of cars and motorbikes combining with the sounds of music and laughter from bars and restaurants, the cacophony of nightlife still a relief from what you just came from inside.

A few other smokers hung around you, alone and in groups, chatting and flicking ash onto the pavement. You leaned against the brick wall of the building, sighing and inhaling deeply. You let the night air fill your lungs, your head a bit fuzzy from the alcohol coursing through you. 

You fish a cigarette out of the carton, placing it between your lips before reaching into your pocket for a lighter - oh, no.

Your lighter was still in your purse. Because, you almost always have your purse, but because you were going out, you had just stuck some cash and your ID in the back of your phone, and left. Christ, you were out of practice. You slumped, and glanced around, only to realize a lot of people had headed back inside. You spotted a woman about ten feet away, exhaling smoke. You debated walking over and asking for a light - she probably wouldn’t have a problem with that, and she was probably done soon -

“Need a light?” a voice asked.

A godsend.

You turned to where it was coming from, and froze in place.

There he was, standing just a few feet from you. Steve wore a warm smirk and a fitted t-shirt and jeans, nearly unrecognizable from the man in the suit you had met a few weeks ago. His hair was still done immaculately, but he stood casually, hands shoved in his pockets as he leaned against the wall. In the dim streetlights, he could’ve been a stranger, just a boy on the sidewalk with a kind offer and a smile. Still, he wore nice loafers and a flashy watch, and though you didn’t know much about clothes, you imagine they cost more than most of your closet combined.

You couldn’t help but smile at the sight of him, unable to believe your luck. And, it doesn’t escape you, the irony of the reversed roles, of you being stuck for a light out in the night.

“If you’ve got one,” you replied, feigning a casual air.

“Well, I think I owe you the favor,” he said, reaching into his pocket until he produced a lighter. He held it up, and you leaned in close, letting him flick it on and light the cigarette until the end was a hot amber. You took a long drag, letting the smoke fill your lungs and exhaling, immediately relaxing.

You didn’t take your eyes off of the man next to you, still as boyishly handsome as you remembered. He was visibly more relaxed than the last time you saw him, and you couldn’t help but wonder… was he here alone?

“Thanks,” you said, pressing your foot into the wall to balance yourself. 

“Of course,” he replied, pulling his own cigarette out and placing it in his mouth. Still hand-rolled, you noted.

“Not just for that,” you said, measuring your words carefully. “For… for the other thing, too.”

He didn’t respond, at first. He just stared straight ahead, blowing smoke out into the night air.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, kicking at the ground with his toe.

“No, I should - I mean, that was… it was really generous. And, you really shouldn’t have.”

He looked at you then, face soft as he smiled.

“Yes, I should’ve. Because I wanted to. Did you do what I asked?”

You paused, confused. “What?”

“Did you buy yourself something nice?”

You suddenly felt your face heat, and it took you a moment to find the words.

“I - well, sort of. I mean, to be honest, I used a lot of it to pay this month’s rent. But…I took my roommate out to a nice dinner. And, there’s still a bit left, so I guess we’re using it now, for drinks and stuff tonight.”

He perked up at that, and smiled a little wider.

“Good,” he said. “I mean, I’m glad you were able to treat yourself.”

“It let me take the night off, for once,” you admitted.

“How many nights do you work there?” he asked curiously.

“Well, only four - Thursday through Sunday. But, I work 5 days a week at a coffee shop - you know Caffè Tazza, on Via Pave?”

He furrowed his brow, then nodded slowly.

“I think I’ve passed it on my way to work, yeah - not sure I’ve ever gone in.”

“Yeah, well, I work there. Enteco is just a side gig - it pays better. Well, slightly.”

You stopped yourself, then, suddenly feeling small - it hadn’t escaped you that the money Steve had sent you was probably a drop in the bucket, a negligible amount for him. You couldn’t even imagine what his bank account looked like, but from what little you knew about him, you knew it would probably make you fall to your knees. 

“But, it doesn’t matter - I needed a break, I don’t go out much, so here I am.”

He just nodded again, taking another drag. 

“Are you here with anyone?” he asked.

You nodded, glancing at the door behind you.

“Yeah - my roommate, Robin… you?”

You asked it carefully, glancing at him briefly. He turned to look at you again, and you could tell he was fighting a smile.

“No,” he said. “I’m here alone.”

You don’t know what it was - it was probably a mix of the alcohol, a long week, the buzz of the late night air, or the fact that both of you had subconsciously inched yourselves closer to each other during the last few minutes - you could feel the heat radiating off of him, hear his shallow breaths. But, you felt bold, bolder than usual.

“Did you plan on keeping it that way?” you asked quietly.

His eyes widened, and you saw him visibly freeze at your words.

“Not necessarily,” he admitted, voice soft and low.

Then, you pushed yourself up on your toes, and pulled him by the collar of his t-shirt, bringing his lips down to yours.

He tensed for a moment under your touch, then relaxed, leaning into the kiss. His lips moved with yours, softer than you had imagined. He tasted like cigarettes and scotch, and smells like cologne, the good kind. Your cigarette fell from your fingers and somewhere into the pavement, freeing your hand to snake up and press gently at the nape of his neck.

It was a bit messy, and not too sophisticated - if you had to guess, he was probably a bit drunk too, though maybe not as much as you. But you were kissing Steve Harrington, a man who was still practically a stranger, and he was kissing you back. And God, he was a good kisser. He pulled you closer, pressing his hands to the small of your back as you breathed into his mouth. And, for just a moment, it felt like you were the only two people in the whole city.

Perhaps it was a few seconds or an hour - most likely, it was somewhere in between. But eventually, you both pulled away for air, chests heaving, hearts racing.

He was looking at you through the dim streetlight, eyes wide. There was something there in his face - surprise, yes, but something else too… fondness? Excitement? 

“I,” you started, “um -”

“Yeah,” he said, chuckling under his breath.

A moment passed, and suddenly, there was an air of awkwardness that settled between you both. Did you misread that? Did he want you to kiss him? Well, he had kissed you back… but would he do it again?

He opened his mouth and took a step toward you to say something, but then you heard a familiar voice come from behind you, calling your name. You turn around, confused.

“I - Robin?”

Your friend stumbled out of the bar’s entrance, hand pressed to her forehead.

“Hey - I… I think I drank too much,” she slurred, making her way toward you.

“You don’t say?” you laughed, reaching out for her outstretched hand. She took it, face screwed up in pain as she squinted in the light illuminating the sidewalk.

“I think - hey, whose this?” she asked, standing up a bit straighter with a renewed interest.

You glanced back at Steve, who had taken a few steps back, his hands shoved into his pockets. He offered a small smile.

“Oh, um - this is, uh -”

“I’m Steve,” he finished, meeting Robin’s eyes over your shoulder. “Nice to meet you.”

“Steve? Who -” then, her eyes widened, and a cheeky grin spread on her face.

“Oh - Steve. Like, Steve Steve?”

You felt your face heat, and pointedly ignored the way Steve’s eyes were burning into the back of your head.

“Um, yeah - it was totally random, but we ran into each other out here and… we were… catching up.”

“Right,” Robin said, looking at you knowingly. “Nice to meet ya,” she said, casting her eyes to where Steve stood behind you.

Steve nodded, fighting a grin as he looked at the pair of you.

“Um, Robin is my roommate,” you explained to him. “But, from the looks of it… it looks like we need to get home. I’ll call us a taxi, yeah?”

“Can’t,” Robin groaned, leaning into your side. “I’m gonna throw up in it.”

You sighed, pinching your temples.

“Yeah, okay, well - if you do that, it’ll be like, hundreds of Euros, so… maybe you’ve just gotta make yourself vomit first, get it out of the way -”

Robin groaned into your shoulder at the thought, and you sighed again. It was then that Steve spoke up.

“Well, I can call my car to take you ladies home… if you want.”

You felt your face flush with embarrassment again, casting your eyes between Steve and Robin, hesitant.

“Oh, no - we couldn’t possibly ask -”

“You didn’t ask,” Steve said simply. “I offered. I insist, actually - I want you two to get home safely.”

You felt Robin lean further into you, and thought for a moment about your options - the last thing you needed was to rack up a fee and piss off a taxi driver.

“Well - I don’t want her to vomit in your car, either -”

Steve shook his head, waving you off.

“Please - don’t worry about that. There’s a garbage can and bags in the back, so she can use that. But, worst-case, I can send it to be cleaned after. I promise, it’s fine.”

You met his eyes, and all you saw was sincerity - he was being genuine, from what you could tell. Right then, you decided to surrender.

“I - yeah, okay. That’d be really great, if you could.”

He nodded, pulling his phone out of his pocket and making a quick phone call. You did your best to straighten Robin up, but she just clung to you, swaying on her feet. Great.

“My driver will be here in a few minutes,” Steve said. “So, no worries - I gave him your address for a stop on the way home.”

“You remember my address?”

He shrugged, and stared straight at the ground. If you didn’t know any better, you could swear he was blushing. 

“Well - yes. I mean, I had to send you the letter not too long ago… write it out, all that.”

“Right,” you said, opting to stare out ahead at the street. A few passersby stumbled past you, in various stages of drunk and cheery, mopeds and cars speeding down the cobblestone streets.

“Thank you,” you added, just a bit more softly. “I - you really didn’t have to do this.”

You knew how this probably looked - two drunk girls, hardly adults, partying too hard and threatening to throw up in the street. You suddenly became self-conscious of your tight ripped jeans, your cropped top, the fact that you were probably just a bit too drunk and sweaty. You were an idiot for thinking he was flirting with you - he was just being nice.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied. “I was getting ready to go home soon, anyway. If you don’t mind me riding along, that is.”

You chuckled. “If I mind? It’s your car - of course you can come along -”

“Yeah, okay,” he said swiftly. “I just didn’t want to make you or your friend uncomfortable - Robin, right?”

You nodded. “Yeah - though, I don’t think she even knows where she is right now, so you’re in the clear.”

That earned a laugh from him - a real one. You hadn’t even thought it was that funny, but he acted as if it was the best joke he’d ever heard. You felt pride surge within you, and immediately pushed it down - that can’t happen, not right now.

The car arrived a few minutes later, and the drive home was mostly silent - Robin cradled a small garbage can, likely only meant for small debris like tissues, gum, water bottles - it only made your humiliation sink in further, feeling like a fool for even being in this situation. If Steve minded, he gave no indication - he sat up front with his driver, the same man from the other night. You sat in the back with Robin, keeping an eye on her in case the worst happened. By some miracle, it didn’t; she kept it down the whole ride, only occasionally groaning when the car went over a bump.

When you pulled up to your apartment, you felt a sense of deja vu - the same place, same time of night, with similar company. And, knowing how tonight went, it would probably be the last time.

After you had assured that Robin was out of the car and able to hold herself up on the sidewalk, you turned back to see that Steve had lowered the passenger window. He smiled as he looked up at you, and you once again realized just how handsome he really was. It was ridiculous, really.

“Um - thank you. Seriously - this was a huge help.”

“Of course,” he replied, leaning out of the window slightly. “Just make sure she’s okay, yeah?”

You glanced back at where Robin was sitting on your building’s doorstep, holding her head in her hands.

“I will - she’s going to be paying for it in the morning though.”

“I don’t doubt it,” he laughed, shaking his head.

You stood there for a moment, just looking at one another - the night was quieter here, just on the outskirts of the main part of the city. The silence was thick and heavy, and million unanswered questions between you two - perhaps they would never be answered.

“Right, well - I’m going to go in, I guess. I’ve got a shift tomorrow afternoon, anyways.”

“Yeah, okay - well, goodnight,” he said softly.

“Goodnight, Steve Harrington,” you whispered.

When you watched as the car peeled from the sidewalk and drove away, you couldn’t help but feel empty - you loved Robin to death, but she was going to pay for this, you decided. That thought really only lasted a moment - she didn’t actually do anything wrong, and she had taken care of you while you were drunk and stupid more times than you could count. Besides, it wasn’t like anything more was going to happen with Steve. You knew this for one reason - upon further examination, that look he had given you after the kiss… it wasn’t surprise, excitement, or any of the above. No - it was fear.

Still, that night, after Robin was put to bed with ibuprofen and a glass of water, you stared at your ceiling and thought of Steve. You thought of the way his voice sounded when it got low, the way he smelled when he was close enough, the way his lips tasted - and you didn’t sleep well at all, dwelling on what could have been.

*****

“Okay! Un caffè e due cappuccini!” you called out, placing the cups and saucers on the counter. The customers came up and grabbed them, knocking the coffees back and heading out, leaving a few coins behind. You were constantly on the move, Caffè Tazza beyond busy thanks to it being a Saturday. It had always fascinated you, how Italians took their coffee; your previous experience at Starbucks back in the States had proved nearly useless, considering that “to-go” coffee hardly existed here. Normally, you didn’t mind how fast-paced it was. But normally, you weren’t hungover. 

You had been in far better shape than Robin this morning, who could hardly get out of bed. Initially, you had actually felt fine. But, after a few hours on your feet, a headache was setting in, and you had a feeling it was here to stay.

The line of customers was long enough that you hardly paid any mind to who was coming in, set of pouring coffee and steaming milk, taking used espresso cups to wash in the back. That was why you didn’t see him come in, or hear him place his order at the register. No, it wasn’t until you were putting the small cup of espresso on the counter that you saw him, face-to-face.

“I - Steve?” you cried, startled. 

You thought maybe it was a dream, and you were actually still in the middle of your fitful sleep from last night. But he was there, clear as day, sporting a white button-up with sunglasses pushed on top of his head.

“Hey there,” he said, flashing a smile.

“What - what’re you doing here?”

He glanced briefly around the coffee shop, shrugging.

“You know - I was in the neighborhood.”

You raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. 

“You were in the neighborhood?”

He just took the coffee off of the counter and knocked it back, grinning as he returned the empty cup. You tried not to look at the way his Adam’s apple bobbed, or the freckles dotting his neck, but it was nearly impossible, given how close he was, how he -

“You caught me,” he admitted. “You told me last night how you worked here… and that you had a shift today… so I figured I’d swing by.”

You felt your stomach flip, because he actually remembered, and came to see you. You gulped, shoving your hands in the pockets of your apron.

“You… you came here to see me?”

It was then that his smile faltered a bit, and he nodded. He was shifting on his feet, not exactly meeting your eye - whatever confidence and charm he had been exuding when he had arrived was quickly fading. In fact, he looked close to terrified, even though he was the one who came here.

“I - yeah, I did. I was just thinking a lot, after last night… about you, and how you - well, when do you get off? Or, have a break?”

You cocked an eyebrow, cautiously curious. Was he going to ask you out? Or, more importantly, would you say yes if he did?

“Um, I have a lunch break in a bit… and then I get off at 6. Why?”

He bit his lip, shifting on his feet again.

“Right, okay - do you want to meet here, after you get off?”

You felt your stomach turn again, bubbling a bit. Still, you tried not to get your hopes up, and measured your response carefully.

“Sure… can I ask why? Like, are you asking me out, or what?”

You said it bluntly, because the last thing you want is a guessing game right now. He gulped at that, and shook his head. You felt your heart sink just a bit, and immediately cursed yourself inwardly.

“Well, no, not exactly - but I do have something I want to talk to you about. Something that I think can help both of us, if you’re interested.”

Before you could ask anything else, he was nodding curtly, and out the door. Then it was just you, a line of customers, and what would probably be the longest 4 hours of your life.

What the Hell does he want to talk about? you wondered.

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[setsugekka]

❥project d (m)

↳ With a nice enough guy who’s just a little too rough around the edges for your parents liking, and a best friend who put you up to him (albeit a tad unknowingly), surely things can’t possibly get more complicated for the local illegal street racing squad.

Except, between racing for pink slips and bragging rights, there’s Emperors leader, Jeong Yunho.

kim hongjoong x fem!reader / jeong yunho x fem!reader — Initial D/street racing!au, unresolved romantic tension, exes to lovers, infidelity, angst, explicit sexual content [20.5k wc] cws: themes of smoking, drinking, & cheating throughout. the person getting cheated on is a scumbag!! mild physicality from a man to reader and more than mild physicality between two men ❱ light dom/sub dynamics in the beginning, penetrative sex (no barrier method), creampie, light choking, themes of possessiveness throughout, dirty talk, risky sex, public sex, oral sex (m).

“Ignore it.”

A simple enough request to oblige as Hongjoong's hand stretches out and over your body towards the side of you where your phone resides, only conveniently tossed there out of haste upon things between the two of you getting the better of you.

History getting the better of you.

Two, three more vibrations of the call alert cycle before it finally quiets, the man next to you hums with his face pressed into the pillow just before turning to face you with a devilish grin — as if a man having just won a prize, of sorts.

Perhaps he had done just that, at least, in this moment in time.

“I can't ignore him forever,” you sigh, back against the mattress and staring up towards the dingy, unpainted ceiling of this particular hotel that you and Hongjoong had become all too accustomed to.

The scent of far-from-fresh linens and a mixture of cigarette and other such smoke cascading through the small room — far from allowed but in a place like this, and for the rate that it goes for, it's what you'd expect. Housekeeping will do what they can, but there's only so much.

It's clean enough, but more than that, it's private. Part of you wishes coming here with him made you hate yourself as much as you think it's supposed to, because maybe then you'd stop.

“He's my boyfriend, after all.”

“He's a fucking tool,” he groans, finally sitting up beneath a single layer of white sheet and reaching to his left off of the side of the bed for his pants — long since discarded and not long after the two of you had arrived, at that. You can only presume the man to be reaching for his cigarettes, and unsurprised when it's precisely what comes into your line of vision as he sits back with his back against the headboard to light it — you watch him, every movement he makes no matter how small or unimportant it may seem. Taking in the details of him: short, platinum bleached hair with his fingernails painted black — two or three chipped, from what you can tell — and most likely from working on his car at some point over the week. “Who cares what he thinks? When are you going to leave him, anyways?”

“It's not that simple,” you answer, under your breath and slightly dejected at the turn the conversation has taken.

Because you know that you should feel bad, and yet you don't, but the fact that you don't sort of does do the trick. You wonder how terrible one has to be to falter morally to such a degree.

“I care about him.”

“The fuck you do,” Hongjoong bites back with a snort through his nose, smoke pushing out and towards the sheet that remains pooled around his waist. “If you did, you sure as shit wouldn't be here right now.”

Rolling your eyes and turning from him finally, it's likely that he's right. Somewhere, somehow, surely that is the only logical explanation.

But as complicated as things may be with your boyfriend, they're just as, if not more so, with the man next to you.

Goodbye's are hard, it's half of the reason people do everything in their power to avoid them.

Even to their own detriment.

“Don't be mad at me,” he adds, noticing the way you pull your eyes from him. “You wouldn't be fucking your ex still if things we're all sunshine and roses back at home. That's just the facts.”

“Do you have to do this tonight?” you say with a groan, turning back and onto your side to face away from him. It's then that you feel Hongjoong stir from behind, putting his cigarette out into a beer bottle on the nightstand and settling back down lengthwise along the bed, with the flesh of his chest pressed against your bare back. With one hand of his trailing down the exposed flesh and settling at the small of your back as fingers curl up and around the dip of your hip, you sigh into the feeling of his touch, once again starkly aware of how undressed you are once again, and how this will likely result in him fucking you for the second time tonight.

“I miss you,” he whispers after a while, lips ghosting gently across your exposed shoulder as he plants kisses there between words. “Leave him.”

“And do what? get back together with you?” you answer suddenly, with a tad bit more snip than you had really intended, but feeling the way his fingernails begin to curl into the skin of your waist, you need not worry about the reception of the response.

Chances are, he probably likes it.

The words come out so quietly that you can barely even hear them over the sound of the long since ignored television, only really used to help drown out the pathetic sounds of you succumbing to this man once again. “Do whatever you want, just not him.”

It's a weird sense of foreplay, the way that the two of you engage in conversations about the man in question — your partner — always seeming to get Hongjoong riled up sexually in some sort of sick, twisted way that you can't quite fathom — possibly the possession, possibly some sense of having won something over the man every time you agree to meet him like this — two competitors who have long since been rivals for far too long, with too much bad blood and no end in sight, either.

So when you left Hongjoong, and shortly after started dating Yunho, it was a punch to the gut and the ego — seemingly only quelled by the joy of having you cum around his dick a couple of times a week unbeknownst to the other party.

Shifting slightly, as if wanting to maintain some air of innocence and coincidence to it all — pressing your behind back and against him only to find that what greets you is a familiar hardness — Hongjoong's kisses into your shoulder intensify, nips and suction against the flesh where he had previously been ever so innocuously been touching.

Giving into him never was difficult, you wonder if you'll ever have control over yourself with him.

Hand slipping down to position himself better against you, the whimper that leaves your lips as he presses back inside of you for the second time that night is pitiful — grin forming across his mouth as he hears the utterance of you once again allowing yourself full compliance for him — his hand comes back up to snake along your side as he gently rocks into you, first settling for a moment atop your breast to thumb over the nub before continuing the journey up and around your throat to hold there tightly as he picks up his pace with a grunt into your ear from behind.

“You're mine, right?” Words echoing from his mouth and into your ear from just next to it, your body involuntarily clenching down around him giving you away more than anything you could say ever could — Hongjoong squeezing tighter around your throat at the feeling of you submitting to him in all of the same ways that he's always liked, that you've always liked — a game the two of you would often play deep within the throes of your romantic relationship. “You always came the hardest when I acted like I owned you.”

“Joong—“ another pitiful whimper at the sound and feeling of him encompassing you, especially given that he's right in his assessment of you.

Hand leaving your throat and continuing up again, two fingers prying between your lips to press into your mouth and lie flat against your tongue, Hongjoong's pace into hastens, fucking you harder than even the time earlier in the night — obviously with something to prove, now — some sort of motivation behind his actions; jealousy, angry, hatred.

The animalistic desire to have and own and need, perhaps.

“He fuck you like I do?” he finally asks in spite of already knowing the answer. There's a reason you keep coming back. “Know everything you like the way I do? Make you cum as hard as I do?”

And with fingers shoved deep into your mouth you can only groan at the words as your body threatens to release you from the contempt of a building orgasm — Hongjoong surely feels it with the way he slows and stills deep inside of you with a whine from you.

“Didn't say you could cum yet, did I?”

It's all you can do to beg for it, grinding back and against him for any sense of friction that will hopefully tip you over the edge that he's not allowing for you. Hot breath scented like cheap beer and cigarettes pressed into the shell of your ear as he holds your body flush tight against his as if to now even allow you the ability to escape his grasp — not that you'd want to, or have any intention to — but rather for what it represents to him.

That yes, this is a game that the two of you engage in consensually, but perhaps deep down for him, a confession of sorts, as well.

Hongjoong pulls his hand from your lips to quickly wrap it against your throat again, ever so slowly withdrawing his cock from you and almost completely before delivering you back an even more tortuously slow drive back inside — so slow that you feel as though you can feel every dip and curve and bulge of his shaft against your walls — the two of you don't play like this so much anymore since the dissolving of your relationship, and Hongjoong's willingness to reintroduce it now feels pointed and a bit like a man rushing to grasp a hold of something that he feels as though he's losing completely.

The break up wasn't on bad terms, and certainly appeared far from devastating to Hongjoong from what you could tell. He did start drinking more, though, and racked up a hefty DUI about a week after.

“You wanna cum, baby?”

You nod quicker than you think the words finish leaving his mouth, much to his amusement. Hongjoong repeats yet another frustratingly slow drive into you as he sets the condition for your orgasm.

“Tell me whose it is,” he groans, the warm hug of your pussy pulling on him equally as much but far more able to maintain his cool. “Who owns it, who does it belong to, baby?”

a sharp inhale, breathing still constricted by his hand keeping you firmly in place and against him, and with a heavy exhale you say the words he's been looking for since the conversation started.

“You, it's yours, I'm yours— fuck, Joong, please—“

You can't see it, but you can feel the curl of his lips against your ear as he grins at the breathy admission, kissing you delicately against your temple twice before whispering how well you've done and how good you are as he picks his pace back up. A handful of hard, pointed thrusts back into you and you come undone around him all over again — the tight squeeze of you subsequently bringing him to his orgasmic demise just after as he buries cock as deeply as he can to cum inside of you.

And one of your favorite things about the man — your too-wild-to-ever-meet-the-parents ex-boyfriend who drives the custom paint maroon RX-7 — is how no matter how insane he is, he's always kind and loving to you. so, as Hongjoong gently pulls himself from you, raining kisses on every inch of exposed flesh he can manage to get his mouth on, the only words spilling from his mouth being those of praise; how good you are, how beautiful you are, how amazing you are — some times, you think he might slip and tell you he loves you in such raw, intimate times.

And sometimes, you wonder why it is the two of you ever did break up.

Phone vibrating again, the screen illuminating to show once again for your boyfriend to be attempting to get a hold of you, you feel Hongjoong still from behind you as he catches notice before rolling back and away from you and most likely, in search of another cigarette.

Picking the device up, with a tone small and shy but with an attempt at playfulness, you dare make the attempt at a joke on the matter. “Can I answer it now?”

But with silence following shortly after as the vibration cycle carries on, you're met with the sound of a lighter flickering once, twice, three times — before an exhale, then a voice laden with smoke and maybe even a hint of disappointment, if you look hard enough.

“Do whatever you want.”

Getting into the illegal street racing thing wasn't exactly something you had in mind, and truthfully, sometimes you had a difficult time tracing back just when it had started with the way things took off in a bit of a whirlwind.

It's particularly due to the fact that you're not a racer yourself, that sometimes has you standing roadside at meets, contemplating the how's and why's of your whereabouts. With no interest in purchasing a project of your own, it started as a sort of hobby interest of yours and Chaerin's — your best friend of six years with a bit of a penchant for trouble as the years progressed. Never anything substantial or too risky — no drugs beyond the extremely rare instance, no theft — and sure, the illegal street racing thing in and of itself being of legal dubiety, it's not the worst thing a girl in her early twenties could find herself wrapped up in, that's for sure.

Besides, Chaerin had a bit of a respectable eye for partners. Boyfriends leaning far into the realm of honest and endearing, even upon dating within the circle of cars, the sort of 'bad boy' reputation for them that one would likely assume upon hearing of teams of men engaging in such activities in the dead of night — while occasionally true, after two or three tag along’s of yourself with your friend, you'd quickly come to realize that the majority of them were simply guys. Nothing special or out of the ordinary, most working through college and probably a bit more than they have to in order to fund their rather expensive hobby, some rich, trust fund kids with no issues affording whatever it was that they wanted to soup up their cars with — and when the dust had eventually settled, it was of little shock to yourself that you ended up somewhere in between.

You remember the night as if it was yesterday, only a year or so back at most anyways, Chaerin explicitly informing you that he was to be played with, and not locked down.

It seemed easy enough when you met Kim Hongjoong, at least.

A little rough around the edges being an understatement: handsome and from a rich family now a couple of years estranged but still not entirely cut off from the family wallet, sometimes you could swear that you could still make out the ways in which his sheltered, prissy upbringing that he had long since attempted to bolt down under lock and key would come through — a heavy smoker, a lighter drinker, and now stuck living in a ratty apartment just a ways out of town with his teammate, Seonghwa.

So, you had agreed, because most certainly this wouldn't be the kind of man you'd fall for, anyways. A girl has needs, however, and you quickly found Hongjoong to be more than willing to go above and beyond for them in more ways than one would likely consider to be present in a friends with benefits sort of arrangement. His willingness to do any and everything you desired sexually, evolving into exploration of sorts, you found that it happened almost naturally in the way he would begin staying over some nights instead of running home, bringing you dinner before playtime turning into going out together for dinner, and when Chaerin began noticing you showing up to car meets from the passenger side of Hongjoong's RX-7, albeit not entirely pleased with the development, she wasn't necessarily against it, either.

Your parents on the other hand, were an entirely different story.

If Hongjoong came off as rough around the edges to yourself, you could only imagine how he came off to your parents, and after one dinner with all of you together, the imagining was no longer necessary — spending the better part of an hour tearing into you about your choice in men; how Hongjoong was going nowhere in life, a deadbeat with no aspirations, a smoker, a drinker, and despite having not disclosed it, father dearest pulling no punches in just what it was that he thought about the whole illegal street racing thing.

A point of contention in what had naturally and easily transformed into a relationship with the man, more than quick hook ups and take out dinners — but there was romance and genuine caring — something special about the way that Hongjoong looked at you that you knew to be sincere.

And perhaps you were too weak-willed to manage it, the constant barrage of opinions and negativity from your family about the man you had chosen, and perhaps the relationship all too young to really weather the storm as it was, so when you told Hongjoong that the two of you should just remain friends, the disappointment was evident, but it wasn't the end of the world.

It was a little bit the end of the world, though, when Yunho came into the picture.

Moving into town a month before yours and Hongjoong's relationship ending, you had already found yourself rather well acquainted with the man in all of the worst ways: every terrible, off-putting version of Hongjoong that you figured to be buried deep down within him in hopes of never resurfacing, seemingly being all of the defining features of Jeong Yunho; mouthy, loud, and far too into himself for anyones good, really, you had only met him a handful of times at races before calling it quits with your then boyfriend, but Yunho had already long made a case for himself in squirming his way into your bedroom as Hongjoong vented about teammates losing races — and even worse, their cars — to the man in the black EVO and his team, Emperors.

How you ended up here, exactly, on a quiet Thursday night during a meet with Yunho to your right as he talks to one of his friends about a new backseat modification he's been considering for weight to his car, suppose that's where it gets a little murky.

Oh, and also the fact that you were just with Hongjoong the night before, too.

As the thoughts finally fall out of your mind, it's the feeling of a large hand on your bottom that jolts you out from them in totality, first looking down then just as quickly back up to your boyfriend.

A habit of getting handsy in public, like some bizarre expression of property owned and wishing for the entire world to see it, it had been a conversation more than three times by this point, so much so that you figure it best to simply give up on it.

“Come on, I told you I don't like that,” you whisper, it is not lost on you how willing you are to bend yourself as to not embarrass him all the while he cares little about granting you the same luxury.

With a slightly crooked smile, Yunho grins down at you before leaning forward and kissing you on the forehead. “It's just Mingi babe, he doesn't care.”

“I care.”

Yunho rolling his eyes at the snide response, pulling his hand from you entirely as if to withhold affection for your poor behavior, your eyes can't help but find Hongjoong well across the parking lot as he engages with his friends among his own team, Spiral.

Meeting your eyes, the interaction is brief, and guilt ridden all of the same.

In fact, Yunho's disinterest in your boundaries had already resulted in a verbal altercation between the two more than once, and that's not even including everything related to on the road.

Of course, Yunho had charms, otherwise leaving would be easy to do. Earlier on, especially — perhaps you a little too fresh off of your break up and more willing to be swept up and away by the tall, handsome, guy with dark red hair that your ex kind of hated but 'maybe he isn't so bad,' you remember thinking to yourself the first time he catches you out and about one random day — asking you to dinner later that night, paying, and giving you the best dick, perhaps, of your life.

You'd find that it doesn't take much time for the layers to peel themselves back, as people with much to hide typically find it difficult to keep up the ruse for all too long, but perhaps losing Hongjoong in your life — and especially for the reasons as such — a larger hole was left than you had initially imagined, now being filled by the rich guy who lets you pay for everything despite having money, doesn't respect your boundaries, and is often found to be in questionable locations more times than you'd like to really acknowledge.

One of the reasons you sort of don't feel bad when Hongjoong texts you late in the afternoon and asks if you want to meet at the usual spot.

But for whatever reason it is, you find it hard to let Yunho go — that even still, there are times late at night when your hand fits impossible perfectly into his as the both of you lie out on the lawn just outside of town and gaze up at the stars together — him telling stories about where he used to live and what he did before he got into street racing and him actually taking an interest in you and your life beyond just showing you off as the pretty little thing he gets to put his dick into — as it often feels in relation to him.

That makes it difficult, as affairs of the heart tend to be. It's never really so cut and dry.

As the end of the night rolls around, Chaerin comes to greet you with her boyfriend, Yeonjun on her arm — and her belongings diligently being held by him as well — both with smiles on their faces as head lights begin to pop on and engines start revving around them. Yunho plopping into the drivers side of his car, Chaerin leans over the open car door with her arm across to cushion her chin, and much to Yunho's visible disapproval.

“Long time, how've things been?”

A long time because Chaerin hates him and refuses to go to mutual gatherings that you invite him along to.

Yunho's eyes first darting to you before settling back to the blonde girl hanging from his car door window, the man leans forward to grip it and shake it free from her annoying grasp before shutting it and opening the window to continue on the conversation. “Fine. You guys going out tonight or something?”

Much to your surprise, you arrived with Yunho with every intention of leaving with him, so the fact that you now are not comes as news to you, and the shock across your features is not wasted on your best friend and her boyfriend.

“You brought her, you're not going to take her home?” She asks, attitude laden in her tone and no effort to conceal it whatsoever.

Yunho snorts, nodding his head towards you as he answers. “Tell your friend not to act like such a bitch in front of my friends, maybe i'll be more inclined to be nicer to her.”

“What are you even talking—“

“I'll take her home.”

A familiar, pitchy, voice, to you especially, piping up from behind the group of you and the twist in Yunho's features making it all the more evident as Hongjoong steps up between you and Chaerin — black and white leather jacket lazily zipped halfway up across his chest and incredibly fitted, lightly destroyed black jeans hugging his thighs. Brushing a hand through silver hair, he nods to you as if it's no big deal.

And as if he didn't have his face between your legs just last night. “What's up?”

“Nothing,” you answer just as carelessly. “Need a ride home, apparently.”

“Awww, little Joongie is so sweet,” Chaerin pipes up, slinging an arm up and around Hongjoong's shoulders in such an aggressively animated way that it nearly brings the man toppling down on top of her, but Yunho only rolls his eyes at the friendly display while huffing out a “whatever,” as he turns the car engine on with a rumbling vibration.

“We'll talk about this tomorrow,” he adds, flipping the car into reverse and rolling up his window before driving off to who knows where, and leaving you to pick up the pieces of how so many interactions between the two of you end up this way.

You sigh, less of anger or sadness, but rather the exhaustion of having become so used to this treatment — it not being the first time your boyfriend has done such a thing, after all.

Letting go of Hongjoong, Chaerin judges him in the arm with her elbow. “I could have taken her, you know.”

Sometimes you wonder if she knows, if she's caught onto the games the two of you play together when you think no one is looking, or none the wiser.

A relationship ended by word of mouth only, but really, nothing having really changed.

You and Hongjoong picked back up sleeping together only a week after breaking up, and never really stopped since. You can't help but wonder if she can tell in the way the two of you interact, how comfortable it is, how unchanged it is from back then.

“It's fine, she's on the way anyways.”

You're not, and everyone knows it.

“Alright well,” your friend begins, tying long, blonde hair into a tight ponytail and slinging an arm over her lovely partner to pull him along. “Be safe you guys, have a good night. Try to get her to break up with her shitty boyfriend, would you, Joong?”

A sly grin as a parting gift and she's off before you really have a chance to say anything to the comment. Hongjoong opting for silence on the topic himself as the rest of the cars clear and the two of you find yourselves the last ones on the cement — the scent of burned rubber and exhaust still lingering heavily in the air, the man next to you shrugs, looking almost sympathetic of you and your situation — a situation that you could just as easily find yourself out of, but sympathetic nonetheless.

Walking over to Hongjoong's car, he steps around to open the passenger side door for you first before circling back and allowing himself to fall into the drivers side of his own.

“Really wish you'd leave that dickhead,” he starts, ignition growling to a start and the inside panel of the car illuminating a bright blue — all custom work, exactly to his personal liking. “Only reason I still have a passenger seat is for when I have to pick up his slack.”

It feels a little bad when he says it like that, as if he feels the need to stick around, by your side, to play boyfriend #2 because #1 does such a dog shit job of it himself, and rather than abandon you to play with the hand that you've been dealt, Hongjoong stands by to try to make each sting at the hand of Jeong Yunho just a little bit easier to deal with — until you manage the strength to do what you know you need to and leave him once and for all.

“I know, sorry,” you mutter under your breath, feeling it necessary to offer the apology. Hongjoong pulling onto the road and driving off and into the night, one hand on the steering wheel, he glances over at you twice before grinning just slightly. “It's fine, you don't have to apologize.”

Turning to look out of the window, eyes still as glued to you as driving safely might allow, he replacing his right hand on the steering wheel with his left, allowing his right to settle onto your clothed thigh with no intent beyond comfort. “Hungry? Wanna grab something?”

“It's two in the morning,” you chuckle, the lightness of the sound bringing a much brighter smile to the mans lips even in spite of your accuracy regarding the situation. “Okay yeah, we can go back to my place? Seonghwa is there but it's fine.”

“It's late, I should probably just go home.”

You don't mean for it to sound so dejected as the sounds leave your lips, a culmination of so many things stirring around in your head all at once in regards to Hongjoong and Yunho both — you think of all of the ways that Hongjoong has always been so kind and good to you, even in the midst of a purely sexual relationship with him, where Yunho finds himself seemingly unwilling to meet you even halfway on simple things or gestures anymore — a man who won his prize and no longer finds it necessary to carry on. His dues paid, and once again, Hongjoong picking up the slack.

And as if some major cosmic joke, it's not lost on you how much your parents adore Yunho.

Never having learned of the street racing thing, on top of being much more cleaned up and presentable in appearance than the alternative — it's easy for Yunho to pull off the guy next door look, and for all intents and purposes, it is him, but in all of the worst ways, and the worst possible version of it. Arrogant and egotistical and unforgiving. Unloving. Manipulative, and in so many ways, cruel.

Like two personalities swapped from the bodies you would expect to find them — Hongjoong with a mouth on him for sure and probably incapable of uttering a sentence without an expletive in it, still kinder and more loving to you than perhaps Yunho has ever been.

And worse than that, you suspect for more than one reason that Yunho is meeting with an unidentified woman this evening. The unmentionable fact that everyone seems to know about but no one talks about, and no one tells you.

But suppose that may be fair and square, after all.

As Hongjoong's car rolls to a gentle stop in front of your parents home, you know what it will result in in the morning — them chewing you out for once again being out with the man that they loathe so much, but unbeknownst to them, the one willing to get their daughter home safe and sound — you let out a heavy exhale as he turns the ignition off and the both of you open car doors to exit from his and greet the chilly, spring air awaiting you.

Watching as the man settles himself against the dark red vehicle full of labor, love and more than all, money, you can't help how natural it feels to bring your arms up and around his neck — and happy to greet you, his own falling downwards and wrapping lightly around your waist to pull you tighter against his torso as foreheads close the space between them.

“Getting daring,” Hongjoong sighs just centimeters from your mouth, referencing the rather public display of affection despite it being the absolute dead of night and not a soul to be seen within eye shot.

“Thanks for taking me home,” you ignore his words in favor of your own and with a sly tone to them at that, as if hoping that the man may have the audacity to make a move on you like this.

But you know Hongjoong well, and what he's into, and enticing him into this takes little to no effort at all.

Shifting to press the top of your thigh against his crotch, feeling the already blooming hardness beneath his pants, you're able to watch in real time as his expression turns slightly lust-fueled as he pulls the door open to the drivers side once again and seats himself on the side of the chair with his legs hanging out. pulling you along with and down towards his face, it's then that he finally kisses you — as if making enough of an effort to do the best he can to conceal these sorts of rendezvous between you — it's hard and needy, all teeth and little tongue as he devours you while you settle on your knees between his own and his hands turn downward to fumble with the belt and button of his jeans.

“You and your risky sex,” you tease, waiting for him to expose his dick for you, but Hongjoong huffs out a laugh in his haste, as if well aware of it himself.

“I'll fuck you against the car if you want.”

“What if my parents saw?” you answer with a quirked eyebrow as he finally frees his length from the confines of his jeans, hand quickly wrapping around him and delicately stroking him.

“Hope they tell Yunho.”

“You're so annoying,” and with a roll of your eyes, you press yourself forward to wrap warm, wet lips around the girth of his cock. Fingers immediately reaching up and tangling into your hair with the first dip of your head along him, you know that in scenarios like this — Hongjoong's favorite thing being having you in places and situations he has no business taking you — he'll get handsy, and he'll cum quick, and for this, both are ideal.

“God, fuck, you feel so good,” Hongjoong chimes with a groan, fingers tightening in your strands just a bit more along with the noticeable raise of his hips up and into your mouth as you bob along his cock in timed, rhythmic strokes — you think it can't be longer than a minute or two before he's whimpering expletives and praise from between his lips as you take him deep into your mouth to swallow his load down as he comes. Pulling back off of him and wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, the man leans down and kisses you on the mouth — an open mouth kiss, not at all chaste or unwilling to taste himself or what you've just done on you.

“I want to see you Saturday after the race.”

You hate to ruin the mood with the information, but suppose honesty is the best policy even in scenarios where you're watching the man you're cheating on your boyfriend with tuck his softening dick back into his pants.

“Think...I have plans with Yunho that night.”

It's meek, partly because you hate saying the words to your ex, and also partly because with the way that Yunho is, who knows if that will even happen.

But Hongjoong takes it in stride as you pull away from him, standing to clear yourself out of the way so that he can pull his legs back into the car and get ready to see you off for the night.

“Well, think about it,” he begins the thought casually, and you think he may actually end it off that well if not for the sharp inhale that follows afterwards. “I'm sure you could think of an excuse, something like 'oh, I want to get fucked by my ex-boyfriend who has a sexier car and is also way better at driving than you are, you fucking loser.' would do the trick?”

Leaning down once again, you kiss Hongjoong on the mouth — quick, but bringing your hand up and to the side of his head as you do so, the touch lingers long after the kiss ends, the man leaning into it as if offering a newly unlocked form of adoration and intimacy not previously felt tonight.

“Get some sleep,” you mutter, finally pulling from him.

Hand through short blonde hair, he smiles back at you with a nod. “Anything for you, darling.”

And watching him drive off into the foggy night, all you can think is how could your parents be so wrong.

“Hey sweetness—“

Barely jarring you from your sleep, the words comfort your ears in some strange way, like warmth itself uttered despite not even being sure that you're actually awake, actually hearing them — the dipping on the other side of the bed, however, doing a much better job of making you aware of the fact that this is, in fact, real life and not a dream. Groggy and attempting to bring yourself to cohesion, you roll onto your other side beneath warm blankets — the light from the morning, or early afternoon, which ever it is you can't be too sure just yet, shining through barely pulled apart, black out blinds.

The first thing you notice being how unfamiliar the man smells to you.

Hair damp and gently sticking to his forehead — evidence of a shower taken prior to visiting you, it's something that you've sort of made peace with, gotten used to.

But you've been to Yunho's enough to know that this isn't what his shampoo smells like.

Of course it's not fair for your chest to twist the way it does at the realization, Yunho's hand coming up to delicately press strands of your hair away from your face with a smile before leaning towards you and planting a kiss to your exposed forehead.

“I brought breakfast.”

Your lips curling upwards, a reaction that you can't help in relation to the kindness that your boyfriend extends to you, you're reminded of all of the ways and reasons that you feel for him, and even now, stay with him.

You figure no one's perfect, after all. We all have our faults.

And some of them, you share.

“Mom let you in?” you whisper, voice laden with sleep heaviness as you stretch arms out above you. you already know the answer, because your mother adores him and is ecstatic every time the man makes the effort to show his face around.

“Of course,” he chimes with another toothy smile, proud of himself for the accomplishment in having won over your parents. “Brought them something, too.”

Sitting up in bed slowly, nothing but a loose tank top and panties clinging to your body, you finally glance out and towards your computer — screensaver touting a comforting time of the day for you to see; 9:22, and you're happy that you haven't overslept despite still being tired from being out so late the night before.

Line of thought serving as a reminder of the activities also having taken place.

“We don't have to rush down,” Yunho adds as his hand begins it's slow journey between the sheets and beyond that, between your legs. Long, thin fingers dipping underneath your panties and wasting no time finding their mark between your folds — you sigh into the touch, and you'd be lying if you had attempted to tell yourself you weren't craving some release after the activities of only a handful of hours prior.

Perhaps fucked up on a number of levels, willing to give Yunho the pleasure of getting you off as a result of Hongjoong's hard work earlier.

But that also kind of does it for you, as well.

It flashes across your mind briefly, knowing but not knowing Yunho's whereabouts while you were out and about with Hongjoong, so maybe it was what you deserved — someone's sloppy seconds — melting into the touch your boyfriend offers as he shifts over and between your legs, pulling the sheets from you and beginning the hasty work of his pants button. You reach up, hands gripping at his black t-shirt to pull him down and against you as he barely catches himself with a palm against the mattress before crushing you — both of you laughing against each other lips at the clumsiness of just wanting to feel the other in a rush with little time at your disposal — Yunho kisses you like there's no time at all before dipping down towards your neck and sucking into the sensitive skin just below your ear.

“Lemmie fuck you with your panties on,” he whispers, finally freeing his cock from his pants just enough to grant him the ability to take you.

“Please,” you whine, his fingers already pulling at the sides to give himself access before your answer even rings out from between your lips — the scent of where ever it was that he had been now overwhelming your senses, it feels so bizarre how your body physically reacts to it — the knowledge of him being in places or arms where he shouldn't dare be and now coming back to you — tip of his length already pushing into you with a heavy exhale from both and bottoming out fast despite his length and your lack of prep, it's something that you've never quite gotten used to even after all of these times together, and especially in the circumstances of a quickie.

But god did you want it bad right now.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” another admission from him straight against your ear — breaths hot and humid on your skin, your eyes clamp shut at the feeling of being so filled by him just as he makes his first withdraw and push back inside of you — a hard, rough, snap of his hips that has you reeling and moaning out for him already.

This was typically how you and Yunho worked out your problems.

A few minutes down, your hands wrapped into your boyfriends hair, you whimper against his neck to fuck you harder, and feeling the nearly sinister curl of his lips you know he's happy to oblige the request — two, three harsher fucks into you, Yunho quickly slips the hand not supporting his weight over you down and between your legs to rub into your clit harshly to get you to cum around him.

“Yeah baby, cum for me,” he whispers into your ear, words cut up and jerked out from the own movement of his body. “Cum with me baby, I'm close.”

“Fuck, Yunho—“

Whining out for him as your muscles clench around him, orgasm taking you with the help of his handy work and his words (and perhaps a bit of the memory of Hongjoong cumming down your throat a few hours prior), you cum hard — hands coming down to grip into his shoulders, Yunho pulls up to fuck you harder and faster as he chases his own just behind you — the evidence of your nails digging into his clothed skin evident across his features as a splash of pain flashes across — but it's only seconds later that he groans, burying himself almost painfully deep inside of your cunt as he paints your walls with his release — then two more lazy, shallow thrusts into you before gently lying himself atop your torso with a heavy, contented, sigh.

For whatever reason, it's times like this especially that you want to ask him where he was.

Why he has to go elsewhere — if it's you, him, or a culmination of the two that causes him to do the things he does.

When you hear your phone vibrate on your nightstand just as Yunho slips out of you and pushes himself back inside of his pants, you know it's Hongjoong.

“When are you going to break up with that guy, anyways?”

Not the ideal first thing to hear upon meeting up with your best friend, but not surprising, either, after the events of the night before.

Setting your bag down on an empty chair at the table, Chaerin watches you intently with her arms crossed in front of her chest, one eyebrow perked up as if somewhat judging even though you know she doesn't, not really.

Both of you in lazy t-shirts and jeans, a far cry from the bit of dress up each of you tend to play when it comes to car related events, you realize it's become rare that the two of you meet this casually — with how busy both of you are with your respective lives.

“Nice to see you, too,” you chime back sarcastically as you sit yourself down at the table. grabbing towards a menu, Chaerin pops her hand out to stop you from taking it.

“I already ordered, don't change the subject!”

“I hardly think ordering food at a restaurant is changing the subject...”

“You know he's cheating on you.”

Hearing the words sting, but not as much as they would if you weren't doing the exact same thing, you guess.

Clearing your throat uncomfortably and looking around in an attempt to find any prying eyes or ears that may be listening in on your conversation, you lean across the table towards your friend with a sigh. “I don't know that, Chaerin.”

Sitting back in her chair with a huff, the blonde rolls her eyes. “Give me a break, you're smarter than that, you know. You're fine with it?”

“I mean, I don't know.”

“Beyond that, he treats you like shit anyways, what the fuck was all of that last night? Just abandoning you at the meet?”

“I knew plenty of people there who could take me home,” you quietly offer as argument, much to Chaerin's dismay.

“Gotta be honest with you,” she starts, eyes pulling away from you momentarily as if unsure of the right way to go about the rest of the conversation. “I don't think he really cared all that much about whether you did or not. Let your ex take you home so he could go fuck some other—“

“Chaerin—“

“I'm just saying.”

Silence befalling the table just as wait staff arrive with the previously ordered food, you exhale heavily at the sight of everything sprawled out in front of you, and the suffocating knowledge of everything just discussed.

Hardly much for making an appetite.

“I need to tell you something,” you pipe up suddenly, and much to your friends surprise. you watch as her eyes slowly pull towards your own, waiting for the bomb you have to drop, and boy, is it a doozy, too.

“I've...I've actually been—“

“Oh, what the fuck, hey.”

Once again, piped up out of no where, and you're sort of beginning to curse living in such a small city where so few restaurants reign as the supreme places to go — you already know who awaits your eyesight before ever turning towards him, but it's the sight of him dressed in his Spiral gear that is what takes you by surprise more than anything.

That, and the fact that you were just about to tell Chaerin about your ongoing involvement.

“Now, why are you everywhere?” Chaerin greets with a smile before playfully nodding in your direction. “You stalking your ex?”

“She's got enough problems without the whole crazy ex-boyfriend thing, i'll spare her the trouble,” Hongjoong snorts just before sitting himself into another empty chair at your table.

It's awkward — because you feel as though everyone knows a secret but it can't be spoken. Perhaps that is the case, after all. Too many secrets.

“She was just about to tell me something and now you came and ruined it, thanks a lot,” your friend jokes just before scooping a fork full of meat into her mouth. Hongjoong turns to glance at you — as if knowing fully well what it was that you were about to disclose to the woman — and with a devilish grin and an elbow on the table to cradle his chin: “Oh really? Do tell.”

He definitely knows.

“It's...nothing. Girl talk.”

You make the decision to bring your hands into your lap, for fear of them visibly shaking should you bring them up to eye sight.

“I'm sure it is,” he replies with a tone that you can only describe as knowing. “Anyways, just picking up food for the guys down at the shop — Seonghwa's been working nonstop on the car for tomorrow so he can be ready to beat your shitty little boyfriend.”

Chaerin laughs, a woman with no particular horse in the race aside from hating that man, and with Hongjoong standing back up, you send him off with a hello for Seonghwa in particular.

A race planned for over a month now, and not one that you've been looking forward to, either. Yunho doing what he does — challenging drivers from opposing teams to races for their pink slips, and it's unsurprising that anyone from Spirals would ever turn down the opposition — if you get challenged by Emperors, you have to accept.

Not accepting is as good as losing, anyways.

You wonder why it is that neither Yunho nor Hongjoong have ever challenged one another — bringing it up one evening over a couple of beers with your partner, and Yunho's only answer being that he doesn't even want Hongjoong's 'shitty RX-7.'

The irony being, of course, that Hongjoong and Seonghwa drive the same make.

Phone vibrating from your pocket shortly after Hongjoong leaves, you pull it from your jeans to illuminate the screen and view the notification gracing the lockscreen.

>Aunty H: gonna tell your bestie you're still getting dick on the side? she'd probably be thrilled lmao

Looking up towards your friend across the table for a split second before unlocking your phone to reply — as if she somehow has the ability to know what it is that the man said to you from the back of your device, you feel as though every eye in the entire world rests on you in this moment. Perhaps not the best time for this conversation, after all.

>You: I don't like keeping the secret from her, idk. she hates Yunho for it when i'm doing the same thing.

Hongjoong begins typing back so quickly you believe him to simply be sitting in his car in the parking lot just outside to have this conversation in the moment.

>Aunty H: she hates Yunho because he's a piece of shit and on top of that he can't keep it in his pants either. not the same. speaking of, I want to see you tomorrow night after the race

>You: I told you I have plans with Yunho

>Aunty H: you fuck him since last night?

Rolling your eyes, you pause for a moment to think over your response. It's really none of his business, but given the circumstances — suppose everyone's sexual whereabouts be everyone else's business.

>You: don't do that

>Aunty H: i'll see you saturday

It doesn't feel good, the circumstances you've allowed yourself to fall into, but at the same time — the promise of what Saturday night may hold — after the sounds of tires screeching and adrenaline pumping through every vein subsides, what either man may have in store for you, depending on how the evening turns out.

And perhaps, it's time to get it the fuck together and make an actual decision, too.

 More than anything, it's the familiar scent of exhaust, fuel, and burnt rubber that you've come to find comforting, a sense of home in the strangest sense.

Dozens of cars lined up on the outside of the road — a long, winding trail of only two lanes, one each way — that is tonight’s destination. a sheen of wetness on the ground from rain much earlier on in the evening, not ideal driving circumstances for most, but for the more experienced drivers — the ones that experience an even higher thrill from the danger, the unexpectedness of it — it's ideal. Hongjoong specifically, touted as a master of the pin hair corner drift, and especially out of Spirals, you know it to be precisely the sort of weather that he wishes to be racing in.

But tonight isn't his night, it's his best friend, Seonghwa's.

A tall, beautiful man with long, black hair and often clad in all black leather, black jeans, and his hair tied up into a half ponytail — he's far from the kind of person most would expect to find at a place like this — currently bent in half and over the engine of his matte black RX-7 making the finishing preparations for his race against your main squeeze.

With the leader of the crew standing just beside him, of which you are well acquainted.

And on nights like this, you belong to Emperors.

Race nights turn into strictly 'friendship aside' events, at least, once Yunho and Emperors started coming around. A group of street racers all intermingling and enjoying one another's company once before, now heavily segregated and pushed apart — the need to choose sides becoming apparent once Emperors began racing people for their cars, and subsequently, Spirals member and long time friend of Hongjoong's, Jongho, losing his to Mingi.

So now, as you with Yunho to your side pass by Hongjoong, Seonghwa, and the rest of Spirals with your own little band of Emperors tagging just behind, a few glances are all that are exchanged between the lot of you, with eyes between you and your ex lingering just a bit longer than some may even notice at a glance.

Yunho's hand slipping down from around your shoulders to your waist only to linger there for a moment before trailing down and to your ass — right in Hongjoong's line of vision, you snap your head up and towards your boyfriend to tell him off for far from the first time for such a grievance—

Only to find his attention far from you, and rather, on that of the man who only a few months prior called you his own, himself.

Following the tall man to his vehicle and settling yourself against the side of it as he settles himself inside of the drivers seat, you spare yourself the bother of looking him in the eye to reprimand him for the behavior, simply looking out and towards the scene before you of people laughing, enjoying themselves — people with nothing to lose tonight, only here to enjoy a show, and hopefully, everyone making it out in one piece.

“How many times do I have to tell you—“

“Yeah yeah, I know, why's it such a big deal to you? a lot of women would like having me show them off, ya know.”

“Yeah? a lot of women?” you say with a snide bite to your tone, finally turning to face him. “Guess you'd know, wouldn't you?”

Raising his eyebrows in surprise at the retort, Yunho pauses before curling his lips into a smirk. “Anything else, princess? I've got shit to do tonight, like take your little pals' friends' car.”

“Why do you have to be like that with him? With them?”

As much of a surprise as it is to Yunho — the sudden aggressiveness to you that you never having displayed towards him before for all of his transgressions — it's just as much a surprise to yourself. Knowing fully well that the outcome of enough of this could easily result in the dissolution of your relationship with the man.

And you wonder, if that's a price you're willing to pay. You also wonder, if this is effectively you slamming your hand down on the self-destruct button.

“I'm not being like anything,” he snaps back, ignition of his car roaring on and gently pushing you out of the way so that he can shut his car door. “Back where I'm from, anywhere where people actually race, people drive for pink slips all of the time. Those are the stakes. It's not my fucking problem that everyone here wants to play carebears and rainbows and no one actually wants to drive.”

“You're such an asshole, you know that? Why can't you just fit in? Assimilate? Why does everything have to be about your fucking ego all of the time?”

“Well babe,” he sighs, pressing his car into drive and effectively communicating to you that the conversation is over — something that you're well aware of already with calls for the drivers to come to the front lines. “You wanted to be with me, and you still are, so what does that say about you?”

Silence takes you, chewing on the inside of your lip — you do wonder.

“Get your attitude in check by the time the race is over,” he adds just before rolling off. “I have a much better use for your mouth in mind than all of this bullshit.”

With that, your boyfriend slowly rolls off and towards the starting line, glancing over and across the cement, you watch as Hongjoong pulls up from Seonghwa's drivers side window for his friend to carry on doing the same, and as if feeling your gaze upon him, turns to meet eyes with your own.

It's ill-advised to be seen mingling in a place like this, during a night like this, so instead, you're barred to stolen glances through midnight fog and cigarette smoke.

Stepping up with your jacket clutched inwards towards your chest, you stand alongside another Emperors driver, Yeosang — a shorter guy with a wicked birthmark adorning his face — as Seonghwa and Yunho meet up at the starting line in the dead of night, awaiting the referees announcements to begin preparation. First, it's a rundown of the rules for the race; very little of them, given that it is illegal street racing, but effectively boiling down to 'don't intentionally do things that put you or others at higher risk of injury or death,' then it's how the countdown to start will begin shortly. You meet eyes with Yunho — the car closest to you — a stare cold and disinterested and lacking any emotional care for you at all, so when he pulls his eyes away and back towards the wet road ahead of him, your eyes wander further out and towards Seonghwa, who also greets you.

A silent nod that the two of you share, as if agreeing on a preferable outcome for the evening.

The truth is that Jeong Yunho's reputation certainly be fitting of him: a good driver, skilled, and with a fast car, at that.

Seonghwa was good, great, even — but technically outmatched — and part of the evil that shrouded Emperors reputation, as well. A sort of 'pick on someone your own size' mentality certainly lost on them.

Yunho had never challenged Hongjoong, and for that, many thought there to be a reason.

With the buzzer sounding for the impending countdown, your hands gripping the steel of the barrier erected between the viewers and the street in front, you inhale sharply the scent of the dewy night sky, and all in all, can only hope for each of them to make it out in one piece.

Then, the familiar scent of a certain cigarette evading your senses.

Three, two, one, go.

Tires screeching, the two pull off lightning quick, and you're disappointed in the fact that from where you stand, you'll see very little of it until the end — people already beginning to move towards the finishing line to have the perfect view of the outcome, you feel the familiar presence of not one, but two people coming up on either side of you: Chaerin, and Hongjoong, naturally.

“You're late,” you nod to your friend, her nodding in response.

“Purposefully, I don't need to watch Emperors all circle jerk each other off pre-race, seen it enough times as it is.”

Hongjoong snorts at the comment from the other side of you before taking a drag of his already lit cigarette as it sits between freshly painted fingers.

“What do you think?” you ask him, tone lower and less playful than the one you had just had with Chaerin a moment ago. The man hums, looking up and into the night sky before stepping back again with intent to head towards the finish line as well.

“Yunho will probably win,” he states, matter of a fact. “But it's fine, we have cars. Paint job on his was expensive though so that'll probably hurt.”

“He has a lot of money in that car,” you sigh disappointingly, and Hongjoong nods. “Yeah, he does.”

“We should go,” Chaerin chimes with a nudge into your arm.

The thought of Yunho taking, and taking from the people and places that mean so much to you without giving much of anything back weighing heavier and heavier on your heart and soul with each passing day, you find.

Seonghwa figures that for a race like this, the fact that it's an uphill track works out in his favor — with the roads wet and gravity defying, top speeds peak relatively low, which means that despite Yunho having far more time and money into his car, what it will really come down to is skill, and knowledge — two things that the man with the ponytail feels he has leaps and bounds of over his opponent. a course he's done countless times, and Yunho, only a handful since moving here, it lends itself to being the course that people test, especially when it comes to the hairpin drift.

It's Hongjoong's favorite, too.

Hitting the shift and snapping his car forward with Yunho just behind, the two take the first turn — not an especially difficult one, but Seonghwa notices that already he feels the road give way a bit beneath his vehicle at the speed in which he's driving as he momentarily loses the back end of the car — it's not a loss, nothing that his opponent can gain on having immediately straightened out for a bit just past it — but Seonghwa takes note of the fact regardless, being well aware of the kinds of twists and turns that await them just a bit further up the road.

For Yunho, however, the turn is of little concern to him, happily trailing behind his opponent for the time being as he grins at the sight of the much lesser experienced driver just ahead of him lose it in the tail end of the corner. 'A good sign,' he thinks to himself, not that he was worried to begin with — considering this to be just another easy win for his team to collect under their belts.

The next corner proves to be much tighter, and much more difficult to navigate — for Seonghwa, at least. Slamming his shift to hit the drift at just the precise moment, heart leaping into his chest as he steals a second to stare back into his rear view mirror to check on how Yunho is handling it, it gives him little comfort watching the way that Yunho navigates the track with his vehicle, and with a lump in his throat, slams his shift once again for the next oncoming turn — a hard right following the previous hard left — and with it being a relatively short track with no long straightaways after the last hairpin corner for Yunho to gain on him with an objectively faster and more powerful car, if he can manage to avoid allowing his opponent the space to overtake in one of the turns, or worse, lose control of his car and give Yunho the race for free — that it should be an easy win for the man on Team Spirals.

Shifting gear, Seonghwa slams on the break just enough to hit his drift just right, this time not losing the back end at all — a comforting sign, glancing back at the EVO behind him and still trailing — a short straight drive before the last sharp left, and subsequently the end of the race — this being the make or break of the entire competition.

Shifting again to hit his drift — tires screeching and the smell of burning rubber carrying so heavy in the air that surely everyone waiting at the top of the mountain can feel the heaviness of the impending end, Seonghwa glances back again to look towards the tall man with the dark, red hair in his rearview mirror—

But this time, he finds no one there looking back at him.

Panic settling hard and fast into his chest, the man looks over to his side, Yunho now having crept up just next to him on the same drift — unaware of how it is that he's able to gain on a hairpin turn such as this one but without the ability to think much of it now — and sure, through numerous races between he and Hongjoong on this very same track, it's not unheard of, and has happened before.

But tonight, of all nights.

Yunho looking over at the panicking driver with a cool and collected demeanor as he slams his shift to carry a straighter drive just a second faster than Seonghwa — the man can't help but let out an exasperated 'fuck!' to no one as he follows suit but all too late in the grand scheme of things — seconds of drive feeling like a collection of years in the moment and the outcomes resulting the same, all it takes it one second — and in situations such as this one, it's the Emperors leader Jeong Yunho who effortlessly shows his skill, precision, and experience. all within one seconds time.

Coming out of the turn, the lights from the awaiting crowd in full view as Yunho rips forward and ahead of Seonghwa who only straightens out his own vehicle just after — and in less than ten seconds, the race is over as the both of them cross the finish line.

Trying to temper your frown at the result, and pulling away from Hongjoong before Yunho can catch you in his eyesight of being with the man, you notice the way he chews on the inside of his cheek contemplatively — disappointed, but not surprised.

As you make your way through the crowd and towards your boyfriend — stepping tall and proud from his vehicle with a smug grin on his face as if the entire world rest in his palm, it's a bubbling feeling of disgust, and maybe even resentment that starts to churn within you at the sight of him.

The cheers from other Emperors members and fans alike ringing through your ears, too loud, too obnoxious to stand listening to for too long, Yunho catches sight of you before you have a chance to duck out of the group of people, stepping forward and taking you by the hand to pull you towards him and into a kiss for the people to see.

When he finally releases you, you catch eyes with Hongjoong in the back of the standing people — cigarette dangling between pretty lips and eyes rolling as he turns back to console the loser of the race.

“Problem, Chief.”

The words come from Mingi — driver, racer, mechanic and closest friend of Yunho's, so you know it's not good when the both of you quickly turn your attention to the man with his attention hard pressed into the windshield of your boyfriends car.

“Man, come on, what now!” Yunho whines as he steps around and next to his friend to view whatever it is that is the issue.

Pointing a finger towards a large crack in the glass — spanning from the bottom right corner all of the way up to nearly the center, Mingi doesn't even really have to say it before the red head starts groaning with his head tossed back. “Give me a fuckin' break.”

“You didn't notice?” Mingi asks with a bit of a chuckle, as if completely unsure how that could be, but Yunho shrugs. “I heard something hit it but I just thought it was a small rock, I didn't think it would be all of this.”

“You can't drive it like this, we'll have to bring it back to the shop tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, I know,” your boyfriend groans again, the largest inconvenience in the world now being presented just before him. “Good thing I just gained a new car, I guess.”

It sends chills down your spine, only now being reminded of exactly what it was that was on the line for this race.

With a sinister tone and a single corner of his mouth upturning, Mingi chuckles. “Better go collect, then.”

Slinging an arm up and around your shoulders a bit more roughly than you would have liked, Yunho leans down just a bit to plant a kiss on the top of your head as he pulls you forward and towards the group of Spirals only a few feet away.

“Just another pretty little thing I get to take from these bums.”

The words twisting your stomach into knots all over again, there had always been a sneaking suspicion deep within your soul that somewhere in there, at the end of the day, there was no respect for you, no love for you, nothing genuine at all.

Just another possession that Yunho wished to acquire, as he had been his entire time there.

Shouting out and towards the grouping of guys, Seonghwa leaning with his back against his car and quite evidently to you trying to play his loss cool — you've known him long enough to know how much he loves that car, and how badly it stings for him to lose it.

You hate to see it, and more than that, you hate to see it be lost to Emperors.

“You cracked my windshield, fuckboy,” Yunho shouts — the tone is playful, but it's more fuel to the fire you can tell from the way Hongjoong's jaw tightens as he clenches it in an attempt to be a good sport about the whole ordeal. “Time to pay up, I need to get me and the girl home, after all.”

“Yeah,” Seonghwa sighs, turning to lean into his car and popping the dashboard compartment to retrieve the title, it's then that the sound of Hongjoong stepping up from the side can be heard.

“What can I do to keep Seonghwa's car?”

At first a sweeping moment of silence, before a crashing sound and what you can only imagine to be Seonghwa slamming his head against his dash in shock at the proclamation by his friend as the man hisses and is found to be rubbing the back of it upon pulling himself out of the side of the vehicle — but with short silver hair and similarly short in stature — especially compared to your boyfriend, Hongjoong stands firm in front of the man, arms crossed in front of his chest as he awaits a response.

Yunho looking at him with one quirked eyebrow before glancing down towards you with a lopsided grin, he looks back up at Hongjoong through eyelashes before delivering his short-thought response.

“Kind of bad form to beg me not to take my spoils, don't you think?” he asks smugly. “Kind of pathetic, ya know?”

“You don't need it, you guys only drive EVO's anyways, who cares.”

“Hardly the point,” he says, matching Hongjoong's stance as he pulls from you and crosses his arms to stand straight — and even taller — in front of your ex. “We had an agreement, and I won fair and square, the car is mine.”

“What, so you can rip it for parts?” Hongjoong asks.

“No, so I can trash it where it belongs.”

Snorting at the pissy response, the shorter of the two glances away for a second, chewing on the inside of his cheek again before turning back to carry on the conversation, but it's Seonghwa who interjects before he's able to.

“Hongjoong, it's fine, he won.”

“Actually, it's not,” he says, this time more pointed than his previous tone. “I don't think it is fine, actually, so what can I do to keep my mans car?”

Watching the three go back and forth causing anxiety to bubble up in your gut, unsure of the lengths in which any of the men are willing to go to in order to get their points across, you give it some thought yourself — if there's anything that you can do to settle this situation between all of them yourself. the person with the most dealings with all parties involved, now standing by on the sidelines as the two teams attempt to hash it out — and not well, at that, your mind races in an attempt to come to an answer, but before you're able, you feel the discomforting gaze of your partner raining down on you from just above, all before any words even leave his mouth.

“Well babe, what do you think? Should we let the poor guy keep his ratty ol' car?”

You know a set up when you see it — or in this case, when you hear it.

Glancing towards Hongjoong, his eyes pull away almost immediately, you figure as to not attempt to pressure you into making a decision one way or another — and not knowing how much weight your decision holds, that earlier anxiety continues creeping up through your chest, and into your throat.

You know that one thing is for sure: doing the right thing most certainly will come with consequences.

“Well?”

Inhaling slowly, deeply, you make your decision.

“Let Seonghwa keep the car.”

You try not to engage in eye contact with your boyfriend, knowing full well that his gaze remain laser focused on you especially now, but the curiosity getting the best of you as you glance upwards to meet angry, disappointed eyes — the strangest result of an expression of compassion awaiting you — Yunho hums just barely audibly before forcing a grin and looking back up and towards the Spirals members.

“Lady says fuckboy keeps his car, so fuckboy keeps his car.”

One part relieved at the outcome, one part surprised by your word carrying any weight with the man, and the last concerned about the result of this in regards to your relationship with Yunho, slinging an arm up and around your shoulder again, he hurries you off and away from the men.

But regardless of what happens now, you know that you've done the right thing — and maybe for once you'll be able to sleep well tonight.

“We're gonna go to the bar, wanna come?”

Yeosang's voice ringing out as the two of you step forward, Yunho abruptly pulls his arm from you as he carries forward and towards the friends glossy white EVO — and waving a hand up in the air, he bids you farewell in a turn of events that you find not all that surprising anymore.

“Get a ride home with your pals,” he rings out, tone venomous and contemptuous. “In the ratty old RX-7, all used up and past its prime—“ he scoffs as he opens the passenger side door.

“—Kinda reminds me of someone else I know.” He says, finishing the thought before sliding inside of the car and slamming the door shut.

The words don't hurt — not from him. It's an anticipated outcome from a calculated risk that you decided to take.

But they show the mans true colors all the same.

As you watch your boyfriend and his friends drive off to enjoy the rest of their victory evening without you — shooting you knowing glances all the while — you contemplate sending the text message then and there, the one ending your relationship with him once and for all. A break up via text, perhaps precisely what he deserves for his thoughtlessness towards you, anyways, but still extending yourself much further for him than perhaps the man would ever do for you.

Save it for another day, and try to enjoy the rest of your evening.

Sauntering back over towards Spirals, Chaerin now joining the fray, she looks up at you from beneath Seonghwa's popped hood — having been checking out his engine as you dealt with the disaster on the other side of the asphalt.

But as she flashes you with a wide smile, it's all the more indication that what you had done was right.

“You're in big trouble, aren't you?” She asks, already knowing the answer.

Sighing, you shrug. “Looks like I need another ride home tonight.”

Hongjoong popping up from the drivers side of Seonghwa's car, where the tallest man is sat and about ready to head off for the night and overhearing the conversation, he sends you a knowing look from across matte black paint that may now still remain in the company of his teammate, and all thanks to you.

With Chaerin and Seonghwa being the last two to drive off, and leaving only you and your ex-boyfriend at the top of the hill, you place your bag into the passenger side seat of Hongjoong's car before shutting the door and leaning against it with your chest — arms crossed along the top as you wait for the man on the other side to finish doing the same and come up to meet your eyes.

“Surprised you did it,” he says as he does, pulling at the collar of his leather jacket to loosen it just a bit. “Guess I don't have to ask if he's pissed since you're here.”

“Yeah,” you sigh, long since accepting of the outcome of the situation and having made peace with it. “He'll get over it.”

“Why's his car still here, anyway?”

“Crack in the windshield,” you reply with a shrug. “Karma, maybe.”

“Oh, definitely,” he chimes back with a snort. “Lemmie see this thing.”

The two of you walking back over towards Yunho's car, long since abandoned and awaiting it's rescue in the early morning hours (or not so early, depending on how the night out goes), you recall this being the exact spot where you and Hongjoong shared your first kiss — first romantic kiss — past the veil of a friends with benefits arrangement, more raw and exposed and knowing between you both; a much chillier night than this and much windier when he finally pulled you in for it with no other intentions beyond it, and the words that you had secretly been wanting to hear for weeks before then.

'I think we should just see each other, only, what do you think?'

“Oh man, that's a fuckin' doozy!”

High pitched laughter ringing through the night air and straight through the memory, effectively bringing you back to the present, your attention pulls back to Hongjoong, leaned over the side hood of Yunho's EVO to laugh at your boyfriends misfortune. “No wonder he was so hard up for Seonghwa's car, fuckin' scumbag.”

Meeting him at his side to take a look at the damage again, you smile at Hongjoong's joy in it, knowing it's well deserved, and most earned.

“Looks like I got you to myself tonight, after all.”

It's sort of a sudden change, the way his body shifts to pull away from the vehicle only enough to plant you further against it, and underneath him — arms on either side of you, caging you in with little option for escape from the man.

Not that you really wanted to, anyway.

Hongjoong leans in towards your face, lips grazing the skin of your cheek on their way towards your ear — the contact sending a shiver down your spine — some bizarre taboo of being held like this by him against such a prized possession of your boyfriends — but suppose that makes two of them, now well within Hongjoong's grasp currently.

“Have the keys?”

For a second you wonder what he's referring to, before it dawns on you that he's referring to the car, and with a shake of your head to protest. “No, only Mingi has another set.”

“Damn,” he whispers against the shell of your ear as a hand dips down and makes its way between your legs to palm at you. “That's okay, we can make due.”

Devilish in tone, you melt into the touch as he begins pulling at the buttoning of your jeans, face turning upwards and pulling your mouth into his — his tongue tasting of cigarette and coffee in anticipation of a long night ahead, you happily lean into it as your arms sling up and around his neck to pull him harder against you.

Shimmying your pants down your legs, he pulls away from your mouth only long enough to slink down to free one of your feet from the restrictive clothing, hiking your leg up and around his hip as he comes back up to meet your mouth for the second round of devouring you — cool metal greeting your behind as he presses you harder against the vehicle, you moan into his mouth as a finger presses into you slowly, one hand from around his neck falling back and against the car to steady yourself better for what it is that's soon to take place.

A second finger in, slowly prying you open for his cock, Hongjoong's mouth pulls away to trail down your neck, latching onto the skin just below your chin to suck a mark into it.

Just another doing of his that you'll have to cover up, like all of the ones before it. Perhaps if you were smarter, you'd tell him to avoid doing such things.

But frankly, that's not something you want, either.

“Wanna fuck you,” he groans into your skin, a whimper escaping you in response to the admission. Fingers pulling from you to work into his own jeans, you allow your head to fall back to take in the moment — the beautiful night sky, the light breeze, and the lingering scents of the nights earlier goings on. only a few seconds granted to you before you feel the familiar prodding of the tip of him pushing inside of you through the sound of his belt buckle jingling through the air.

“Kiss me,” you whisper out, Hongjoong wasting no time obliging the request as he brings his mouth up from your neck and to your lips, one hand gripping tightly into your thigh to keep it hoisted up his hip as he fucks you against the vehicle.

The angle certainly doing you favors, presenting the perfect ability for Hongjoong's cock to graze the perfect spot with every drive into you, free hand not used to keep yourself somewhat upright now buried into short, blonde hair — the man fucks you hard, but not particularly fast, every thrust seemingly deliberate in his desire to bring you to orgasm as quickly as possible.

Legs quaking around him as you cry out his name, clenching down around him as he fucks you through your orgasm, Hongjoong pauses kissing you long enough to pull from your lips enough to watch you intently as you cum around his dick — forehead pressed to your own as you moan and whimper through your release.

“Fuck me from behind.”

The demand spilling from your lips before you have a chance to think much of it, still reeling from your orgasm, no time lost in taking heed of it — pulling himself from you and turning you around to bend you over the cold metal of your boyfriends car before burying his cock inside of you again and settling into a much harder, quicker pace than before.

You feel him reach down for something briefly, without much thought to it, until you hear the sound of a lighter flickering, and the scent of freshly lit cigarette from behind you.

It's a little charming, in a hilariously degenerate way, you think.

“Rubbed off on you a little bit, huh?” he huffs out between thrusts, one hand settled on the small of your back while the other wraps around the dip in your waist. “Now who likes getting fucked in places they have no business getting fucked in?”

“Joong— feel so good, fuck—“ and it's hardly a response to the questions, although it sort of is with how exquisite the drag of his cock feels against your walls.

“Yeah, baby? Want me to make you cum again? Like me fucking you on your mans car?”

“Yes,” you manage to huff out, the air nearly fucked out of you with every hard push of himself against you.

Feeling the brief loss of one of his hands — presumably to finish off his cigarette and toss it to the side — he brings it back to gently snake up the length of your back, settling at the back of your neck and gripping fingers into the sides to continue his rhythm.

“Rub yourself for me,” Hongjoong whispers, voice faltering every so slightly at the creeping promise of his own release, and you waste no time bringing your dominant hand down and between your legs — first feeling for the way his cock stretches your pussy open with every push inside of you, enough in and of itself to get you that much closer to where you want to get to before circling fingers against your clit to bring yourself over the edge around him — groaning immediately at the feeling of you tightening around him with the additional stimulation, he fucks you that much harder.

Biting hard into your lip in an attempt to stifle your cries, Hongjoong notices, and much to his disapproval.

“No one can hear you, you can scream for me,” he groans, clearly and quickly reaching his own orgasmic inevitability. “Lemmie hear you, tell me how good it feels.”

The instruction does enough of the work, his desire to hear you cry out for him and how good he makes you feel as you cum hard — at the same time, Hongjoong's hips stuttering with a breathy moan of your name as he shoves his cock as deep into you as he can to cum — the throb of his release prolonging your own as you sound nearly pained by the feeling of a long, drawn out, second orgasm of the night.

An airy 'fuck' dropping from him as he attempts to steady himself, catch his breath after his release, Hongjoong only bends forward to lean himself against your back — gentle kisses peppered across your shoulder and back before he settles the side of his head down against you for a moment of reprieve.

As a gust of fresh, night air flushes by and across hot skin, when the words ring out through bitten, red, lips, you think for a split second that you're not sure which one of you they truly come from — long since having been hanging in the forefront of your mind, as it was.

'I miss you. Us.'

Over the next following weeks, you can't help but notice the acute way in which messages back from Hongjoong dissipate. You figure, at least to some degree, that the relationship between Spirals and Emperors having reached such a boiling point after the last race, that perhaps it's expected — that even in spite of your good deed in martyring yourself for Seonghwa's car, the fact that it ever even reached that point be reason enough to want to distance himself from you.

That's what you tell yourself, at least, ignoring the elephant in the room.

And as the days pass, you find your relationship with Yunho having also deteriorated in such a way that maybe you hadn't anticipated. Yes, you expected him to be mad about the dealing with Seonghwa, and yes, that had been something that you had factored in prior to making the decision — in thinking that with a few days to cool off, things might just go back to normal.

Not that normal was ever even that great, either.

So two weeks later, on a rainy Thursday night just two hours before the scheduled meet up — no races and no thrills given the weather — when Yunho texts you that he's coming over to talk, you're unsure of what to expect. Perhaps the dissolution of your relationship, the thought causing an expected twisting to the contents of your stomach.

Why, you're not sure. Would breaking up even really be that bad?

But suppose the ending of a relationship where there once had been love will always be hard.

Watching Yunho drag himself through the doorway of your bedroom, jacket almost certainly left at the front door of your home and bag slumping down to the floor with a thud, you watch as he avoids eye contact with you for the first few seconds of his arrival — fingers pushing through damp, rained upon hair to remove what's stuck to the skin of his forehead, he sighs heavily as he finally makes eye contact with you — but doesn't press himself further inside of the bedroom, either.

Awkwardness so tangible, it's the first time that you think you've ever seen him in such a bizarre state — not so astoundingly full of ego and grandeur but rather, somewhat impish as a result of whatever it is that he came here tonight to say.

“We should talk.”

Voice deep but almost cracking through the abruptness of the words, it takes you quite a bit back as once again his eyes dart from you — knots tightening in your abdomen at the sight of your boyfriend just before you.

You can't find it in you to respond to him, waiting for the pin to drop, instead.

“You can't spend time with Spirals anymore.”

Wait, what?

You don't say it, not verbally at least, and you suppose you twist of your features in near disgust says everything that it needs to as Yunho rolls his eyes at the quiet display of you before him.

“Don't really want you hanging out with that bitch Chaerin, either, but i'm willing to compromise.”

“'Willing'?” you mirror back, shock laden in your tone. “You're telling me who I can and can't hang out with, now? I've known them all way longer than i've known you.”

“Yeah and I don't think that's doing you any favors,” he bites back, finally stepping towards you in a much stronger stride than the way he had entered. “The thing with Seonghwa was humiliating, you're my girlfriend, why the fuck are you going to bat for him? He lost.”

Scoffing, you reel at the fact that the argument is taking place at all with how asinine it is to you.

“This is stupid, you can't tell me who I can spend time with.”

“I can and I will.”

Standing up from the edge of your bed and pushing past him, you swiftly grab your phone and keys from your nightstand on the way out before turning back to him for the final blow.

You pause, having to think twice before delivering it.

“You feel big, Yunho?” You start, contempt heavy in your voice towards him with eyes equally narrow and cutting. “You feel brave only racing people who aren't on your level? Is that why—“

Pausing again, you watch the mans eyes widen at the beginning of the implication, stepping towards you again. “Say it! Say what you were going to say!”

“—that why you never challenged Hongjoong?”

You turn again to leave, but not before long fingers wrap around your arm to stop you. Not especially aggressive or violent but enough to have your heart beating through your chest at the implications — a man putting his hands on you during a heated argument — You still anyways, just in case.

You don't think Yunho would hit you, but frankly, you're not entirely sure, either.

The two of you locking eyes, rage and disdain painting each one of your faces as you stare each other down, Yunho lets go of you almost just as quickly as he had grasped a hold.

And probably regretting it just as much, too.

“See yourself out,” you say just before turning to leave again, and when Yunho asks you where you're going, the only details you grace him with are “out.”

“He put his fucking hands on you?”

The voice rings out from Chaerin — shrill and shrieky through the echoing walls of the mechanic shop, previously rolled up beneath her forest green RX-8 — but quickly wheeling herself out from under it at the sound of the words leaving your mouth.

Hongjoong only a few more feet away; leaned back in a tattered rolling chair that's certainly seen better days and boots kicked up onto a desk that's now used for very little besides holding water bottles and the occasional wrench — as he attempts to dig out oil from underneath a fingernail with a switchblade he adds commentary of his own. “The guy's a piece of shit, got half a mind to slash his fucking tires right in front of his face tonight.”

“Don't bother,” you sigh. “He didn't hurt me, he wasn't violent, but yeah—“

“A man putting his hands on you in any way during an argument is violent,” Chaerin states clearly as she walks towards you to pull you into a hug. “I'm sorry, my love.”

“I'm okay, seriously.”

“You've got to leave him,” the blonde woman adds after your affirmation of being alright with the circumstances. “I mean, this can't keep going on. It was already bad but things are just getting worse, and worse at this point. The cheating, the controlling behavior, now getting physical with you...”

You can't help but glance to your far right towards Hongjoong in an attempt to assess the way that he's intaking the information, but the man appears to be outwardly unbothered — still picking apart the underside of his fingernail with little more to say on the situation.

“We can find you a nice guy,” your best friend says with a smile and a certain cheekiness to her.

“Like Hongjoong.”

First it's a crashing sound, followed by a pointed 'fuck' and turning to follow where the sounds had come from, the sight before you being your ex planted back to the floor, wheels of his chair having given out from beneath him — and a nasty gash in the tip of his finger from the knife once toyed with.

“Are you okay?” you ask, relatively unbothered by the sight before you as Chaerin jogs off to retrieve the first aid kid.

“What's wrong with your friend?”

“How much time do you have?” you chuckle, implication of 'a lot' heavy in the answer. A playful huff from the man following as the blonde woman arrives back with a large enough bandage for the wound and something to disinfect it.

“Someone's jittery.” She says with a knowing grin, which Hongjoong pointedly avoids looking at.

“I drink a lot of coffee.”

“Why did you guys break up, anyway?”

As silence befalls the mechanic shop, you slowly glance towards the woman next to you, flashing a look that says a thousand words in and of itself, but most importantly being: what are you doing right now?

Chaerin mouths “what?” back to you, as if Hongjoong isn't lying just in front of the both of you and fully capable of seeing the display before him, he finally rolls his eyes with a huff — more than exhausted of the situation already.

“Her parents hated me, okay?” he begins, wincing as the tight bandage wraps around his open wound. “Guess I look a little too much like a guy who does illegal street racing for fun and has a DUI.”

Silence again, and you think for a moment that perhaps Hongjoong's admission a bit too raw and unfiltered for what Chaerin had anticipated — a teasing that had begun rather lighthearted, now seemingly serving as a tool for the mans emotional release. It's not much, but for someone who doesn't talk about his feelings all that much, you know how much it really is, and from the way the words sound on the edge of broken by the end of the sentence, most definitely coming from a place of genuine hurt.

“Well,” she begins, and you figure that she's doing it out of a feeling of obligation — the need to respond to something so open and honest, to not leave him hanging. “Parents can be wrong—“

Her eyes now switching to flash to you as she says it.

“—but anyways, it's a good thing there's no races tonight because that's probably gonna hurt like a bitch for a couple of days. I'd recommend staying off of it and not—“

“We never stopped sleeping together.”

It's Hongjoong that you look at first — the man sucking his bottom lip in between his teeth and eyes widening at the words as he slowly turns to look at you with a face that asks 'right, what's all this, then?' and after, it's Chaerin that you glance towards — hers not all that different from Hongjoong's, although you think that if you look hard enough, you can see a sense of having already suspected as much through her features.

If she had thought as much, she keeps it to herself, opting instead to clear her throat and yank Hongjoong back up to his feet with her as the three of you stand up from the concrete floor.

“Never stopped as in...?” She inquires, curious of the exact timeline in relation to Yunho.

“Think we stopped seeing each other for like—“ you pause to think as you glance towards your ex next to you, still relatively shell-shocked by the whole ordeal. You shrug and sigh simultaneously. “A week, after we broke up?”

“So, you've always...since Yunho...”

Lips pulled into a thin line as you're forced to admit such, you nod gently — far from proud of your misdoings, but acknowledging them all the same.

“Wow,” your friend chimes out, eyes wide still with the gathering of new information. Hands pressed to her hips as another layer of quiet wafts over the three of you — Hongjoong not dare speaking out of turn in events such as this — neither of you have to, not with Chaerin around.

“Thank god! It's what he fucking deserves. Fuck that guy.”

Laughing nervously, you understand where she's coming from, of course: as your best friend, and a friend of Hongjoong's much more so now than earlier, to know that Yunho has been repeatedly done wrong in such a way feels a bit like a breath of fresh air — an understanding that through everything that he's put everyone else through, there is still some semblance of justice — somewhere, somehow.

You don't necessarily agree with the feeling, guilt and disgusting swirling around deep in your chest every time you're forced to acknowledge the fact, but perhaps it's admitting to it out loud that will give you the strength to do something with it.

And everything else aside, you've wondered how much of Hongjoong's truth laid bare for you that night on top of the mountain with his confession to you.

The least that you can ask of Yunho — and everyone else involved, for that matter, is for one night where nothing goes wrong.

You're thankful that even in never verbally requesting of it, it seems as though the stars aligned themselves all the same — everyone on their best behavior, and a casual car meet night starting and ending without an argument, or otherwise nasty words exchanged.

The looks are unavoidable — Spirals, Chaerin and the like in Yunho's direction — something he most definitely picks up on yet chooses not to comment. Surprising, for him. A man that always has something to say, including and almost especially in circumstances where it's him that's in the wrong.

But tonight? Nothing.

You heed your boyfriends request: not really with intention of actually doing so, that is, allowing him to control who it is that you can and cannot have contact with, but rather to keep the evening smooth and mellow.

It was a conversation that would see reopening.

“Hey,” you whisper, hand reaching over the center console of his vehicle to wrap delicate fingers around his forearm. “We should talk.”

Putting the car into drive and waving off his friends just before pulling off, you study his face as he remains silent from just next to you — jaw tight and lips pressed thin as he stares ahead — it's as if he's driving, sitting entirely still in the emptying parking garage used as tonight’s meeting place.

Sighing, Yunho closes his eyes for a moment as if to collect himself. You brace for impact.

“I'm sorry.”

And you figure that surprising would be an understatement, eyebrows pushing together as you take in the words just as they left his mouth. Foot pressing to the pedal now as the car slowly drives the both of you off, the man sighs again. “I shouldn't put my hands on you. Not ever. I'm sorry.”

You sort of knew that it was well beyond the scope of what even he finds to be acceptable-assholery, not that it excuses the behavior, but an apology for the goings on feels the least surprising of all of the other potential things the man could have been issuing it for.

Controlling behavior is okay, but he draws the line at getting physical. Guess it's something.

Not enough, though.

“Yeah,” you quietly reply back, not wanting to absolve him of it, nor do you really wish to accept his apology for it. Forgiveness for some things feeling well beyond your scope — suppose it would file under unforgivable. Something that Yunho would have to make peace with on his own time.

“That why you were on your best behavior tonight?” You ask, tone playful but sort of meaning it, also.

Your boyfriend chuckles at the words as the car slows to a halt for a red light just ahead.

“Yeah, kind of,” he says quickly, not needing time to mull it over at all. “I feel bad, it's fucked up—“

Pausing, Yunho leans forward to look out and through his windshield towards something a bit up ahead before sitting back again and glancing to his side at you. “—Mind if I kidnap you for a bit?” he asks with a gentle smile.

Suppose Jeong Yunho serves as your own blind spot.

Car parked in a nearby, open, parking lot — only a handful of street lights illuminating the area, but enough so that it doesn't feel secluded — the man next to you sits back against his custom seat more comfortably, head resting back as well just before turning to face you and stretching his arm out now against the center of the vehicle towards you in and effort to request for your hand in his.

You oblige.

Inhaling heavily — you await the words that seem to linger just on his tongue, the vision of a man still thinking through every thought before allowing them to exit through his mouth — you wonder, if perhaps it's the first time of him having done so. Yunho, so quick with words and thoughtless actions and selfishness, now contemplating everything in a whole new way, a way that you think, perhaps, you've never seen from him before.

“You know I just want what's best for you, right?”

Yuck.

Words carrying into your ears and twisting deep inside your stomach as if doused with poison themselves, it's not at all what you had been hoping to hear: it's an explanation for him being the way he is — it's an implication that you should need him to help you make decisions, to act right, to be good for him, because certainly you're incapable of doing it yourself.

For whatever reason, the memories of when the two of you first started dating come flooding back to you. Holding hands while shopping and movie nights late at your place with your parents home (previously uncharted waters, but your mother liked him so much she allowed it for him), a hand on your thigh when he took you out for a ride in his car, but nothing too dangerous — the assumption that he wouldn't be able to live with himself should anything happen to you while with him.

When perhaps he was the danger itself all along.

But it makes it hard nonetheless. It's never easy when there is love there, memories there — a history. You cared for Yunho, in all of the ways that a girlfriend does, no matter how wronged or slighted or for how long — it's difficult sometimes, to do what's best for oneself when knowing it to be the severance of so many others.

“We should break up.”

But you have to, anyways. Above all else.

You choose to stare forward out of the windshield in front of you — a vivid recollection of the way Hongjoong had you not so long ago just there springing up and into the forefront of your mind as if some cruel reminder that you not be the saint you wish to paint yourself as — that you're not a victim in all of this, not completely.

With dark red hair in your peripheral vision, you see the man dip his head down.

Then delicately pull his hand from your own.

But Yunho opts out of a verbal response, instead using his newly freed hand to start the ignition of his car once again and toss it into reverse. Panic sets in, although, you're not entirely sure why.

“Yunho—“

“I heard you.”

A response curt and lacking any emotion beyond anger, you find it in yourself to finally look towards him fully — jaw clenched hard as you're so used to seeing on him, and eyes narrow with indignation.

Stilling the car again and jamming the shift into drive much rougher than he had been before, he begins pulling off and back onto the road — it's towards your home, that much you are thankful — but you don't imagine the ride there will remain this quiet, either.

“Why?” he asks suddenly, now driving a tad bit faster than before. It's nothing especially dangerous, but you note it all the same. Yunho doesn't give you time to answer, though, before adding onto the inquiry with another thought of his own. “Because I grabbed your arm?”

He sounds stressed, voice pitchier than usual given his typically smoother, deep tone — perhaps panicked at being faced with the dissolution of the relationship.

And just as you're about to answer him, he continues on again.

“Because of him?”

You know who he means without the dropping of the name.

“You can't tell me who I can and can't hang out with, Yunho—“

“You're choosing him over me? Over us? You already broke up with that fucking loser once, how many times do you have to do it before it sticks?”

“It's not about Hongjoong.”

Sort of a lie.

“Then it shouldn't matter that I don't want you hanging out with your stupid ass ex. You miss a guy with a fuckin' DUI? Are you stupid?”

Yunho's tone raising louder and louder, anger bubbling quickly in the confined space of the vehicle, you want nothing more than to be free from the clutches of being there with him.

Sure, you had anticipated the break up to not go over well, but perhaps it was heading into territory you weren't quite ready for.

It's then that the fuel light pops on on Yunho's dashboard — slamming his palm against the steering wheel in frustration at all of these circumstances culminating annoyingly at once, he cusses to himself under his breath before looking just up ahead and on the right for a gas station open.

But what really causes your heart to do a nose dive into your stomach, is the visual of Hongjoong's car pulled up to gas pump three.

“Well, would you look at that,” Yunho sing-songs sarcastically as he pulls in, a man with silver hair just exiting the shop with a bottle of water and keys in hand before briefly looking up just enough to notice the scene before him. “Perfect timing.”

And now you know that tonight is going to be a problem.

Pulling up to gas pump two, Hongjoong slows just to the side of his car before hopping into the drivers seat — as if having some sort of sixth sense of there being a problem — carefully eyeing the EVO as it stills to a halt on the other side of the median separating you.

When Yunho slams the shift into park, the only word exiting his mouth is “out.”

For once, you're thrilled to be taking his direction.

Hopping out of the car with quickness, you shoot Hongjoong a look that says 'there's a problem' that you know has him watching the situation even more intently as he eyes the taller of the two getting out of his vehicle. A loud slamming of his car door — much louder and rougher than he would ever handle his car under normal circumstances — you watch as your ex grits his teeth as Yunho steps towards the two of you and meets Hongjoong face to face with a grin.

Nodding his head towards you, Yunho speaks first. “Ya know this one just broke up with me.”

Hongjoong snorts through his nose at the words, never faltering in his eye contact with the man in front of him. “'Bout time.”

Brave, you think. If Yunho put hands on you then you know he's not above putting Hongjoong on his ass, either.

A slow blink concealing the roll of his eyes as he nods at the words, Yunho keeps his crooked grin plastered across his face. “Big talk for a guy going nowhere, with nothing — you think you're big 'cause you got the girl? Over my dead body.”

You don't know entirely what he means by that. Intention to pursue you in spite of it all? An unwillingness to let the relationship go? A cold chill firing through your blood at the implications of what it means, you warm slightly at the sound of the silver haired man just next to you laughing at the words as he digs into his pockets for his pack of cigarettes — unable to light it due to their current whereabouts.

Hongjoong's eyebrow quirking up at the words as he takes them in — it's a look that almost explicitly explains all of the ways in which he does not take the tallest of the two seriously, in any way. You find it almost comforting, that perhaps he knows something you don't, and thus, you have little to worry about — but with a man known for acting on impulse and making rather poor decisions, who can really tell.

“What're you gonna do?” he questions, cigarette lazily dangling between his lips. “Make her be in a relationship with you, stupid?”

Jaw tense, Yunho steps towards Hongjoong slowly — the movement spiking your anxiety, but cool as a cucumber, the man remains in place with his behind gently pressed against his car and arms folded across his chest.

“If I want something, then it's mine,” he whispers — tone oozing of smugness and superiority.

For the first time ever, you think that Yunho is letting the charade go in full — no more plausible deniability about him being ultimately good or right underneath it all. The real him. This is who he is.

Waving his hand in the warm, late night air, as if evidencing their surroundings to prove his point despite no one else being around. “Maybe you've noticed, with my little collection of your friends' useless tin cans.”

Knowing Spirals and Yunho's propensity to take from them, you know it's a sore spot for Hongjoong, so watching the way in which the leader only drops his chin down to his chest with a grin before cocking his head to the side and glancing back up at the tallest of the three of you — you're unsure of what to expect.

But Hongjoong being so cool about it is probably a bad sign, based on what you know.

“Funny,” he says finally, inhaling sharply before pulling his arms apart again to rifle through his keys for the one leading to his car.

“'Cause if that were true I wouldn't have been laying into her the whole time y'all were together.”

The result comes on quicker than you expect — a fast and strong right hook to Hongjoong's jaw sending him almost barreling across the side of his own vehicle at the contact — Yunho breathing heavily as he rubs at his sore and potentially broken set of knuckles. the man glancing at you and for a second, you worry if you may also meet the same consequence as your mouthy ex, but without a word, and red hair swaying in the wind, Yunho only turns to head back towards his car.

No longer in his sights, you rush over to Hongjoong, delicately touching the place of impact and checking for mobility as he opens and closes his mouth with a wince. “God, he hits like a pussy, too. Unbelievable.”

“Hongjoong.” You whine, because god forbid the man delivering the assault overhear the comment.

“Hey!” Hongjoong shouts, and if you had known him to wish to say more, you'd have done everything in your power to stop him, but with the words already out there, your eyes widen at him, a nonverbal plead to shut the fuck up.

“Race me next Saturday,” he yells, still awkward with his damaged jaw but confident and pointed all of the same. “Not someone in my crew, me. If I win, you leave her the fuck alone and you leave town. That's it.”

You can't see the man, only the sound of him having opened the car door to go off of in relation to his whereabouts, but you hear nothing from behind you for what feels like eons. Then...

“And if I win?”

Pausing to spit out blood and hopefully not a tooth accompanying it to the ground just between his black boots, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, the words come out far too confidently than you'd like them to, especially because you know him to have every intention of keeping his word.

“Then I leave. You get the car, the girl, the team, everything.”

A heavy gust of wind barreling through as silence overtakes the situation, silently pleading with Hongjoong through looks to not agree to this, to not go through with it — looks that you know the man to be purposefully avoiding in his reluctance to make eye contact with you as he asserts the deal — you don't feel any better knowing that the man is willing to put everyone on the line for you, or for whatever this is.

It's reckless, and it's dangerous, and there's got to be another way.

“See you next Saturday.” Yunho says with a tone so matter of a fact, before thrusting himself into his car and taking off just as fast.

When Saturday rolls around, it leaves you wondering where the time went between then and now.

Riding passenger side in Hongjoong's RX-7, you mull over the the happenings of the week leading up to now: countless hours leading into days spent at the mechanics shop with him, Chaerin and the rest of the Spirals team — testing and preparing his car for the impending race with everything and then some riding on it, the anticipation bubbles in your gut in a way that you're unfamiliar with — a race with far too much behind it, more than necessary, and it leaves you wondering why it is that the man driving next to you is willing to give everything up for what effectively boils down to one thing: you.

But with almost no down time between the declaration and the race — Hongjoong spending many nights at the shop, curled up asleep on the cold, beat up, leather couch inside instead of opting to bother with the travel time home when he knows he'll only end up back there early in the morning anyways — it leaves no time for the conversation.

A silent acknowledgment between you, him, and everyone else on your side of the equation.

Trailing behind Chaerin's RX-8 and pulling into the all too familiar roadside lot of the uphill racing track that serves to be Hongjoong's favorite, you figure that the two of them must have hashed it out unbeknownst to you — or it was some sort of understanding between racers for this to be the place that it would happen. The track. Not the most difficult, nor the one offering top speeds (and for that, it could be raced downhill, anyways), but rather the one feeling just right for the sort of situation.

Yunho too proud to decline the invitation to beat Hongjoong on his home terf, his favorite track, the one known to be his best — and Hongjoong all too confident to feel that he could ever be beaten on it.

Setting the car into park, you dare not speak as Hongjoong takes in a deep breath through the silence — a rowdy crowd of racers and onlookers alike heard easily from all around you outside of the car — it feels almost claustrophobic, suffocating in some way, being surrounded by people and the impending happenings of the evening.

Hongjoong looks calm and collected, however.

One hand loosening from the steering wheel to card through short, silver hair before unceremoniously plopping it onto his thigh with a flat palm, he lies his head back against the rest of his seat, turning to look at you finally with a shockingly soft expression.

“Should probably have a talk, huh?”

You can't help the way the corners of your lips curl upwards at the implications of the words. Delicate and caring. You nod.

“You're really just gonna move if you lose a race?” You ask, tone pointed with resistance in the thought of it, but the man next of you pulls his eyes away, head turning back to look out and in front of him at the passersby.

“To be honest,” he starts, thinking through the words a bit more before carrying on. “If guys like that are going to set up shop around here then maybe my time here has run out anyways, maybe it's time to move on.”

“You sound far more willing than I ever expected. You love this town.”

Hearing the exhale through his nose as if amused by the prospect of it, Hongjoong reaches forward and across you into his dashboard, rifling through papers and an empty water bottle in search of something, finally pulling an envelope with no wording sprawled across it — only an emblem.

Placing it on your lap, he nods for you to open it, but not before point out and into the crowd.

“See that guy over there with the hat? Red jacket.”

Squinting, you attempt to follow his finger with your eyes, gazing out and through the crowding of people for whoever it is that the man next to you is wishing for you to locate, all the while digging out whatever it is from this envelope that you're meant to see.

Hongjoong carries on with the thought before you do. “Those red jackets are special, custom order jackets. No one has those. You can't get them.”

“Okay...” you hesitantly acknowledge, finally landing on the man in question. Arms crossed and seemingly alone, he's looking onward — at the track, at the surroundings, and finally, over to the both of you. Nodding in your direction, Hongjoong nods back at him.

“Ever heard of Project D?” He asks.

“Uh, rings a bell. Think I've heard Yunho or Chaerin talk about it, why?”

Hongjoong snorts at the drop of names before speaking again, as if unsurprised by the ones mentioned as having any sort of interest. “Read the letter.”

A questioning look splashing across your features, you do as advised, pulling from his attention and down towards the piece of paper in your hands. It takes you some time to go through it, and then, another moment from reading it over again — because you're quite sure that you must have read something wrong, must have gone through this with a bit of wishful thinking and a simple wanting so badly of things to go good, and right.

But with the second read through and confidence in your reading comprehension, your attention snaps back up and towards Hongjoong — a wide grin sported on his face.

“This...this is—“ you manage to stutter out, heart threatening to beat through your chest entirely as he turns to meet your eyes again.

“Indeed. Turns out someone thinks this guy can drive a car,” he sighs with a sort of nonchalance that has you so taken aback you aren't even sure what to say or think.

Project D. The upper echelon of street racing. Entirely closed off, and run on a strict 'don't call us, we'll call you' type of basis. It's professional, and the dream for just about anyone involved in the sport. a one way ticket out of here, that much is for certain.

So unfamiliar to the common driver that no one here even recognizes the shining red jacket only adorned by drivers on the team.

“His name is Takahashi Ryosuke,” Hongjoong begins again, lazily having a hand out towards the man referenced only a moment ago. “He's the leader of Project D, he came to see me drive. I'm already in, but it's sort of a formality, plus, he's gotta give me my jacket.”

You pause, thinking it through in your mind again and trying to take it all in.

“In front of Yunho?”

Hongjoong laughs, a full laugh at the question. “In front of Yunho.”

Head lying back once again on the headrest of his seat and rolling gently to grant him vision of you — you watch the way his eyes fan over your features, as if taking all of them in for the first time all over again — as if it were to be the first or last time that he would ever see them, and with the calling to action of the racers needing to line up, it pulls your attention up and away with the abruptness of it, but not his — still watching you intently as if trying to read every thought floating through your mind in that very moment.

You figure it's no surprise that you ended up here, with him, like this tonight — all of his plans, everything he does perfectly in line with something that he has in mind — some sort of grand scheme of sorts, and you can't help but wonder for how long it's revolved around you.

'Racers line up, 5 until green!'

Turning back to look at Hongjoong, small hand with painted black fingernails reaching out and towards your own, he grips tightly atop one of them and squeezes lightly just before pulling it from you and shifting his car into drive again.

“So,” he starts, waving towards Ryosuke again before carefully maneuvering his vehicle towards the starting line of the track for a race that means nothing and everything to the both of you simultaneously.

“Want to take a ride with me?”

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ hope you enjoyed! please check out my navigation for more (´｡• ᵕ •｡`)

—this is a oneshot, there will be no part 2.

[wrenwreads]

she’s enough.

having her around? edmund knows for sure he’ll be alright.

pairing/s: edmund pevensie x fem!reader

warnings: nothing

genre: fluff, edmund pining over his bsf

word count: 591

a/n: got me giggling while i was writing lmao 😭

“It’s not fair.”

Y/N furrowed her eyebrows in confusion as her best friend plopped himself flat on her bed.

Her parents had let her stay with the Pevensie’s at a professor’s house for shelter — who would have thought they would end up being leaders of a kingdom.

She had been crowned Queen Y/N the Eloquent. Her ever so good skills in speaking benefited their home like no other. They had fixed so many conflicts without drawing out blood with her help, the siblings wondered what they would have done if Edmund didn’t accidentally smack her in the head back when they were 4.

“What is it this time Eds?” she sighed, leaving the stack of books she was carrying from her own personal library to sit down next to Edmund’s body.

“It’s just Peter— and Susan— not to mention Lucy. Why is it always me! Why not y— them this time?! As if I can’t do anything like that. It's just I need time—“

“Eds! Edmund! Breath, please” she pleaded, concerned at the speed the words were coming out of his mouth. Edmund only remained quiet, his face flat on her bed. She sighed, standing up from her position, she — lightly — hit Edmund on the shoulder.

“Sit up!” she hissed.

Another hit.

“Sit up, you twat!”

The insult had the boy standing up in an instant, shooting daggers at the smile Y/N was playfully displaying. “Who’re you calling a twat?”. Edmund sounded offended, Y/N knew him too well that the question had an action behind it for her to fall for. “No one. Well… someone with the last name Pevensie…”

“Peter, then?”

“No,” she dismissed, shaking her head jokingly. “More like Edmund��“ she shrieked his name in surprise. He had been quick, reaching towards her in seconds — his long arms wrapped around her waist as his fingers dug to her sides.

“Edmund! Stop—“ she could barely get the words out, her laughs drowning the whole room. Edmund laughed at the attempt, tightening his hold. “I suggest you take back your words, my lady. Or you’ll be trapped forever!” Edmund announced between his own chuckles.

“Never!”

Their laughs only got louder. The sound escaping the room. Two fauns just happened to pass Y/N’s closed bedroom door, the two looking at each other knowingly. “I am really having a hard time believing that those two will always be best friends.” One said to the other.

“Hopefully, one of them will gain some courage. Who knows, maybe we’ll get Narnia’s first prince in three years' time.” The other replied.

The two laughed, knowing the prediction is highly unlikely — but not impossible.

Back inside, Edmund had stopped. His arms still around her waist as the two took a moment to catch their breaths. Y/N had rested her head against his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat instantly calming her down.

Edmund watched in adoration at Y/N allowing herself to rest against him. Despite knowing each other for more than a decade — maybe even more — he still doesn’t believe someone as delicate as the girl in front of him trusts him enough to do so.

Maybe in the future he’ll finally tell her what he found so unfair. Why his siblings would continuously pester him about his buried feelings when they too had them one way or another.

For now, having Y/N allow him to wrap his arms around her, it’s enough. Knowing she confides in him as he does to her, it’s enough.

Having her around, she’s enough.

thank you sm for reaching the end. i appreciate it a lot. feel free to tell me what you <3 constructive criticism is highly valued. also accepting prompts or requests atm. love u lots xoxo