#bmx road ride

[aseaofyoongi]

caught in waves | ksj

kim seokjin x reader (f)

genre: chef & bmx ksj | strangers to lovers | fluff | smut

rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)

summary: after graduating culinary school you are fired from your very first job as a sous chef — so you move to a small town for the summer only to meet the very cute nephew of the restaurant and airbnb owner.

warnings: not another smut au; strangers to lovers; thoughts of self doubt; brief mention of death beginning with the line “sleeping forever would mean.” to the end of that paragraph; parental death (jin’s unnamed mother); foul language; public sex (twice - cause wtf is a bed); clitorial stimulation; vaginal fingering; tongue fucking; six nine (m./f. receiving); face riding; penetrative sex; unprotected sex, wrap it up my brothas and sistas; creampie; riding (cowgirl); brief orgasm denial if you squint; did not proof read so sorry for any errors now; that was a mouth full but i think thats it lol

word count: 13.1 thousand words

posted: june 25, 2023 at 9am

notable songs: tangerine - anthony watts and anthony russo | otro atardecer - bad bunny | summer love - crush | seaside - seb 🎧

-

-

-

The bus was nearly empty. 

Just you and two strangers with two remaining stops on the lined route. From your place at the back of the vehicle life seemed to have stopped and you were sort of trapped in the legato vibrato of the RnB beats playing in your ears. But you were here alone with rows of vacant seats ahead of you — while your eyes aimed at the everlasting fields of green pasture filled with an abundance of trees. The vermilion leaves swayed to the rhythm of the wind as the cool draft swept by gently. 

And while you sat inside the muggy bus you couldn’t help but feel like those leaves who have lost their way from home. The ones who we ripped away from their branches and were on an aimless journey only to end up on the ground. All but forgotten and only to be stepped on and torn to shred in the process. 

That was you. In a stump, torn and forgotten. 

You didn’t always hold that ideal synonymous with your name but the sparse roots in the. . circumstances of life were less than perfect and while you tried to drive down the highway of your early twenties on a steady road there were just numerous obstacles hurdled in your path. Some of which affected your life greatly and derailed you from what you believed to be intended and bestowed upon you. 

Back then, you were twenty-one just fresh off culinary school with zealous ambitions and a hunger for success that gnawed at you eagerly. You had a drive ignited in you like an overbearing fire incapable of being put out. Today, that fire lacked its fuel and there were just clouds of smoke left behind while the ashes of the once burning wood were scattered around. 

Everything in your life has gone to shit. 

In just the matter of months everything has gone to absolute shit. 

You couldn’t hear much, so you weren’t alerted to the mechanical voice triggered by the yellow pull cord. You weren’t quite sure if it was due to the music blanketing your hearing or if your sense had gone completely haywire but you couldn’t hear it. Not at all. Your eyes however could see the rectangular screen displaying the ‘stop now’ bold red letters at the front of the bus and as soon as the doors opened. The doors of the bus door opened and closed and quickly the two other passengers on the bus hopped off leaving you entirely alone. This precise moment; these surroundings, took you right back to the big city and its maze-like roads. It sent you right back to the exact time when you felt like this, entirely desolate and empty in all the worst ways possible. 

You hated it. It was suffocating and you could feel the way your airways began to constrict. You didn’t like that feeling — being alone. Yet, it always crept up on you like a lingering shadow. 

It was always fucking there. 

It wasn’t always that way. Before your sporadic travels to the isolated roads adorned by thousands of skyscrapers — back at home things were different: you had a loving family, and you were wrapped up in the warm embrace of your parents and siblings. A hug so tight sometimes you could still feel their phantom body heat warming up your skin. Their touch was your medicine and with their clutch you were cradled right into a cure for wellness. 

While you craved the warm nature of their love. You couldn’t head back home. Not after descending so harshly from the disappointment of your crushed dreams. You had pierced through earth’s stratosphere and crashed your metaphorical ship right in the middle of nowhere. 

You were astray. Off-course. Adrift. 

You couldn’t head back home. 

It’s only been six months since you left home. 

Just half a year. And everything went to shit. 

Though you knew your parents weren’t usually the type to be painted with looks of disappointment — you knew that right below disappointment sat a worse expression, one you weren’t quite ready to experience just yet: commiseration. The awful and dreadful imbue of pity. 

Their youngest had failed. Miserably. You could already see their torn expressions dashed in the horrid tones of black and white, maybe even a bit of gray. It was bad enough in the flashes of your imagination. 

God, no. You couldn’t head back home. 

Instead you ran as far away from home as you could and headed towards a small town. It was nearly invisible on the map unless under the stern squinting of the eye. But you figured a scenic change would likely bring forth a change of spirits. Perhaps, being enveloped in the vibration of the soft melody coming from the crashing of the oceans waves and the aroma of the tide in this new town could become your new remedy for the soul. 

As you neared the houses toned with aquamarine, salmon pink, and citrus yellow wood sidings the bus began braking softly nearing its final stop. 

“This is the end of the road young lady,” the bus driver announced as you peeled your headphones off, placing them around your neck. 

“Yes. Sorry,” you quickly stood up, clinging your backpack onto your back and hurdling the duffel bag over your right shoulder causing one of the straps to snap. Great. You sighed, “thank you so much.” 

“No need to apologize,” he waved off as soon as you stepped off onto the asphalt, “enjoy your stay.” 

Using the navigation on your phone turned out to be much more complicated than you’d originally thought it would be. There were countless seafood shops and though the repetition of the color on the houses was initially very appealing to the eyes you quickly realized how much harder it made it to differentiate and determine your precise location. 

Okay, currently, you stopped in front of the ice cream shop. To the right there was the souvenir store, the convenience store and the flower shop, along with dozens of other stores scattered all around — all of them sat parallel  to the boardwalk right near the beach shore right across the street. 

Kim’s Aboard. You hummed looking down at the opened up map. The blue dot was highlighted. . Still. So you were at your destination according to this, except, you were not. This was way harder than navigating your way through the big city for the first time all of those months prior. Who would’ve thought small towns would be the cherry right on top of your greatest failures. Just what you needed. What the fuck. 

Sitting on the curb you felt defeated. Feeling as if life had taken control of your life while  you were the punching bag just waiting for another jab. 

“Fuck this,” you shrugged off the duffel bag, sinking your head into your lap, “fuck life. Fuck it all.” 

Minutes passed on but you remained. There. On that lonely sidewalk. Not empty but again lonely. Fuck, you didn’t care okay? You were well past the point of feeling fazed, moving through life but not living, finally succumbing to the presumed complications of your days — officially, having given up mentally and physically through and through. 

You simply did not care. Nope. 

You didn’t. . 

Then, you felt a single droplet land on your skin. From overhead the sky was being consumed by the gloomy darkness, and soon enough you knew the clouds would begin their torrential weeping. Very soon. 

Okay. Maybe you did care after all. 

“I get it,” you hissed up at the heavens, “I am damned. Doomed. Cursed. I get it.”

You probably looked mad. Well, more on the edge of insane. Whatever, it was. It likely did not look good at all. 

“Uh,” he approached you in paced steps but the squeaking of his black finishing boots gave him away. Initially, your eyes were averted to the leaden clouds, but quickly, your eyes met him as he kneeled right beside you. The simplicity of his appearance (composed of dark denim washed overalls and absolutely nothing under — but the radiance of his honeyed complexion) drew you nearer to him. “Are you doing okay, miss?” 

His voice was sweeter than the composition of ballads and while the crashing of the ocean waves against the shore constituted its very own euphonious sonnet, in the shortness of six words listening to him was already so much better — so pleasing. 

“I-uh,” surely you remember how to talk. . Right? “I was just looking for the apartment I’ll be staying at for the next few days but I’m a bit lost.” 

“Here,” he sat beside you and his shoulder brushed yours continuously. It was distracting. Very distracting, “The trick is the town is circular shaped. Sort of like a big round about. There’s one road throughout and if you follow it through, you’ll see everything you need to see.” 

You hummed, signaling you understood his breakdown in small towns for dummies, “So, are all of the stores on this main road?” 

“Most,” he said, adjusting his blue cap now having it face backwards. His toned bicep flexed slightly when he reached up, “but there are some down the road. What store are you trying to find?” 

When you turned towards him you swore there was a glimmer of light shining down on him like a spotlight — except, that was impossible. The day was now gloomy robbing the sun of its usual glimmer. But, you weren’t crazy. You’re living it, clearly experiencing the way his radiant glow nearly blinds you. 

You were clearly gawking at him. Too immersed in the perfection outlined in his features. The richness of his dark chocolate eyes seemed as sweet as a candy bar, his full lips and the apples of his cheeks carried the same elements of the carmine mimicking the vibrancy of roses. 

You cleared your throat forcing yourself to finally rip your stare away from him, “Kim’s Abroad,” you began, “seafood store and restaurant combo but also Airbnb adjacent.” 

He chuckled, again a sound so light and airy it traveled in your inner ear like the whistles of a peaceful tune, “Kim, huh?” 

You opened the Airbnb app, moving the phone over for him to get a better look, “Yeah, Kim is what it says,” you confirmed, 

“Yeah, it does,” he looked at your phone screen, “but you’re in the wrong place.” 

“I’m in the wrong town?” 

His lips were still sculpted into a smile. Was your demise an amusement to him? You were almost offended but dimples were just so mesmerizing as they impaled his bread cheeks and you found some ease in them. Momentarily. But the man sitting beside didn’t go back on his word and suddenly there was no denying the rising panic bubbling deep in your stomach. There was no question that your luck has always been absolute shit but you never imagined it could extend this far. It never occurred to you that something like this could happen. 

You laughed and you weren’t sure if you actually found the situation amusing or if it was only a coping mechanism. Who knows perhaps you misheard what he said — Yeah, you probably. . Definitely, did, “please tell me you’re fucking with me. .” 

“Yeah, I’m fucking with you,” he smirked. The curves of his stretched lips now synonymous with the equivalent of a warm embrace yet the playfulness of a jest, “I’m Seokjin. Kim Seokjin. Kim’s Abroad is my uncle’s shop.” 

“Oh,” you finally exhaled, releasing the breath you didn’t even realize you had been holding in the first place, “you got me good.” 

“Did I scare you?” He stood from the sidewalk and dusted off the bits of sand and gravel from his bottom. 

“Did you scare me?” you huffed, “you damn near killed me.” 

“Well, technically, you are in the wrong place,” he stretched his hand out for you to grab and you did. 

“Don’t even start,” you scoffed playfully. 

“But—“ he cut in, “you’re just on the wrong part of town. Come on. Before it actually starts raining.” 

“You have a car?” 

He shrugged, “something like that.” 

Seokjin did not have a car. You’d digested the grim realization when you two of you walked to the nearby parking lot and instead of approaching the valet he walked the opposite way in the direction of the bicycle rack. 

The bike chained to the rack was blue. . a sapphire which mimicked the color of the ocean waves. It also looked pretty new and like a very competent mode of transportation as everything in this town seemed just a walk or quick ride away. 

 “Hope you don’t mind but I’m not much of a car person,” he emphasized the word car highlighting the stance of his words. And you couldn’t help but wonder why it was — that he wasn’t much of a car person — but you didn’t ask, shoving the plethora of questions right back down your esophagus determining you didn’t need to know. You didn’t know him. . Besides, he was practically your landlord. 

“Of course,” you smiled, tightening the straps on your bag to get it to sit higher on your back, “should I put this here?” you slid your duffel bag off and pointed at the red wagon attached to the bike. 

“Let me help,” Seokjin was toned and built as fuck. You had not really noticed when he approached you ten minutes prior, but now? Now, he was kneeling right in front of you using a variation of ropes to secure your bag in the wooden attachment. And while you hadn’t meant to stare you couldn’t resist the urge to drink in every detail of his every move. 

It was truly like observing an artwork in some museum. . except you had to keep reminding yourself that he was real — This was real. His muscles flexed whenever he tugged on the rope to verify its tightness and his fingers worked diligently to produce an effective knot. His long long fingers. 

Your mind couldn’t help but wonder which other activities he indulged in containing those slender digits of his. 

No. 

No. 

Focus on yourself; focus on your own journey. You shook your head in an attempt to push those beguiling thoughts aside. 

“Ready?” he asked, straddling the bike and signaling you to hop on the pegs. You simply nodded hoping on, placing your palms on his broad shoulders for support. The contact felt as if his skin had been ignited with tiny strings of fire — kind of like you hovering your palms over a burner on the stove. 

It was distracting; the way the heat particles traveled past the layers of your skin warming you to the touch. 

It was so fucking distracting the way your touch felt at ease against him. 

“This is a very small town but we have a lot to offer,” Seokjin peddled down the street — already sounding mildly out of breath having to carry both your weights. 

Your eyes settled on your surroundings; the road ahead, “I can see that. We have the beach on our left and a cozy vintage town to our right. Believe me, it is all I truly need at this very moment.” 

“What are you trying to escape from reality?” 

“More like—“ as the bike moved deeper into town and against the late afternoon wind you felt a wave of relief in your sweaty scalp and forehead, “I’m trying to get away from it forever.”

He chuckled, “forever’s a long time.” 

“Forever is categorized differently for each person,” you shrugged, “my forever could end tomorrow whereas yours could run its course for an abundance of years.”

“I suppose you’re right. .” he said, “but tomorrow is also forever away.” 

“Tomorrow is forever away.” you repeated. 

Within the cold avenues of the buzzling city tomorrow would be a blink away — sparing all extra hours, minutes and seconds right into oblivion. Tomorrow would arrive in the blink of an eye and twenty four hours would perish right into nothing. However, this town seemed different. An hour here has felt like a wrinkle in time and you were comfortably tucked under that luxury of time. 

Sparing time to stop and take everything in and time to breathe. You were spared all of the time in the world to breathe. Finally. 

Back in the city your life had been sort of a blur. The foundation of your days were composed of half assed obligations. Such as getting up to the boisterous roars of the city (which you hated), getting dressed in clothes you hated all to keep up appearances (which you hated), attending classes in an attempt to perfect your culinary skills (which you hated) and then finally going to work at that fucking restaurant until the late hours of the evening (which you guessed it — you fucking hated). There was nothing to look back on and long for and certainly nothing that you missed as everything you ever dedicated a spec of your time and energy to never truly made you happy. 

There was always a vast hole in your heart. It was huge and it only ever grew in width and no efforts ever minimized its size. The pain was great and all you could ever do was endure. 

The ride so far had been quiet and you found peace in that. It gave you a bit of time to swim in your own thoughts for a bit — something you haven’t done in quite some time. Perhaps, substituting the rustling tracks of the subway and the constant beeping of car horns for the songs of the sea would do you some good. It already kind of was. 

“You doing okay up there?” he asked, continuing to peddle his way down the black paved road. 

“I’m doing okay,” you reassured him. 

“I figured you’d just been taking everything in,” he said, “you’ve been a bit quiet.”  

“Yeah, I’m definitely admiring and loving the scarcity of skyscrapers. I like the build of the ranch-style homes. It gives the curb appeal sort of like a homey feel,” your eyes remain glued to your surroundings. While Seokjin was a sight on his own this town — you were beginning to fall in love with. 

“I agree. It’s the primary reason why I’ve yet to leave,” he parked his bike on the bike rack right in front of the two-story building. The sign read, ‘Kim’s Abroad’ in big red letters engraved in a baby blue outline against the white exterior. “We have arrived.” 

“Seafood restaurant and market,” you mumbled reading the tiny black font displayed right below the vibrant sign. 

“All things seafood restaurant and market,” he repeated, getting a hold of your luggage from his wagon, “we are connoisseurs. Don’t you forget that.” 

You giggled, “Kim Seokjin the seafood connoisseur. Noted.” 

Kim’s Abroad sat on the other side of town. Just a couple of steps away from the blue waves of the ocean crashing against the golden shores. Approximately, a ten minute bike ride away from the main pier. This side of town seemed like a hidden gem, like a slice of privacy for the locals. Though the sidewalks remained occupied with on-goers, it wasn’t as congested or loud as where you began your journey earlier that afternoon. 

Up above the weather seemed to settle down as the nimbostratus clouds were being swept away by lighter; fluffier; whiter clouds highlighting the cerulean hue of the late summer afternoon. The sun also seeped through and already your skin prickled with the rising heat. 

“Let me help with that,” you reached out to grab your backpack. 

“Help?” his eyes wide with shock, “you’re our first guest to offer assistance with their own luggage. I like you.” 

“I’ll wear the stamp of approval proudly.” 

Walking into the restaurant was like entering the multiverse of culinary delicacy. The aroma of the various seafood dishes had your stomach grumbling as hunger began its loud roar. The set-up didn’t allow much space for dining in which explained the small tables and chairs lined up outside. Seokjin walked right up to the counter with a sign right above the register which read, order here. To the right of that there was a display with numerous varieties of fish, shrimp, clams, oysters, lobsters with small chalkboards identifying the prices per pound. 

The interior design of the small shop was fairly simple yet very charming. There were wall decor items hung on the white walls in the shape of different sea creatures and fishing nets drapped from the ceiling. 

Seokjin signaled you over to join him by the register, which you did. 

“Our summer neighbor has finally joined us. She’ll be staying for the summer.” he turned towards you. Quickly, you nodded confirming. 

“Hi, I’m Seokjin’s uncle, Gong. Nice to meet you,” he stretched his hand out over the counter which you quickly shook. Gong wore a tender eye smile and pearly white teeth that glimmered under the sneaky rays of the sun invading the shop. You introduced yourself hoping to reciprocate the same amiability. 

“It’s nice to meet you too,” you added, “I’m really looking forward to spending the summer.” 

“We’re glad to have you give our little town a chance,” he said softly, “Seokjin, why don’t you show her where she’ll be staying. Then, you can come down and grab some food for the two of you.” 

The residential area was deeper into the property. Just a couple of feet behind, Kim’s Abroad. You’d notice there was a continuation of the color white — it was neutral. But also made the small living space seem a bit bland. Colorless walls encaged a small kitchen which led right into the living room. There were two medium sized oval windows facing the ocean. A view you knew you’d spend a lot of time admiring and never getting tired of. 

Seokjin signaled over to the wooden door separating the bedroom from the living space. The bedroom was huge compared to your dorm back in University, and it was accompanied by an on suite bathroom. 

Thank God. 

If there was something you hated while in school it was the fucking communal bathrooms. The working around schedules to avoid the crowded showers, having to do your. . . Well having to take a shit (practically in public) was less than ideal and having to share bathrooms amongst ten other girls was not the most hygienic living situation you’ve had to live through.  

After dropping your bags near the bedroom door you plopped down on the full sized bed. You closed your eyes as tiredness weighed heavy on your eyelids. 

With the fluffiness of the mattress carrying your body, you sensed the way every bone, every muscle and every inch of you became cumbersome against your better judgment.  Though you tried and tried to sit up you couldn’t. It was so fucking impossible. . As if there was a ton sitting on your abdomen preventing you from doing anything. 

You were exhausted. Numb to your surroundings and your thoughts. You had honestly forgotten Seokjin was still in the room with you — that was until you felt the mattress dip right beside you. His body heat radiated off of him in waves and the warm sensation comforted you closer to a deep slumber. 

“Are you still up to eating or are you too tired?” Seokjin mumbled. His voice, so soft and poise almost as if he was afraid to blow your tympanum. 

Your eyes still remained closed. Behind them there was an invasive darkness — much darker than the night sky but there was also peace and all you wanted to do was to succumb to that very feeling. 

It kept you high and you felt light as a feather. You had never engaged in drug usage but you imagined this is what it felt like to be intoxicated. 

“I’m hungry but I’m also so tired,” you yawned almost instinctively, “I just want to sleep forever and ever.” 

“Sleeping forever would mean. . Well, you know. .” You know what he implied and though, that’s not initially what you meant you wouldn’t mind that either. Sleeping forever was peaceful and would spare you the burden of figuring out whatever the fuck your life has turned into. Imagine falling into a deep slumber and roaming over into the afterlife peacefully; serenely. Or maybe not. There were a million thoughts etched onto your brain and while you tried to make sense of it all, you couldn’t. You didn’t mind it but there was also a tug at your heart just urging to allow yourself to see things through. 

“I just meant. .” you paused, “I just meant I’m really really tired.”

“I know. .” he stood from where he sat on the bed and your eyes met him by the door. “Are you still down to get food though?” 

“Have you heard my stomach?” His smile was contagious as you'd quickly learned as a smile was painted on your lips as soon as his lips carved into a bright beam almost as illuminating as the golden star prancing in the late afternoon sky, “I think hunger trumps sleep at this moment.” 

That was a fib. But you didn’t really feel like being left alone with your thoughts at the moment — they were loud, overwhelming and deprecating.  To be honest you’d been lonely for way too long and you hated basking in the solitude of your own company. It’s not what you wanted or what you needed. 

Perhaps, tomorrow will be kinder. 

The sun was less brutal now. 

Likely, because the sun was en route to kiss the ocean as it continued to move closer and closer towards the horizon. The blazing star still had quite a journey ahead but it no longer sat in the middle of the sky shining down with its stinging rays. 

Late afternoons were always your favorite part of the day. Back in the city the congestion of buildings on every street wouldn’t allow for this kind of life; for a scenery like this — and again you began to feel at ease in your heart. You love it. The loud cackling of the neighborhood kids, the sound of skateboards, skates and bikes against the pavement, the smells of backyard barbecues and the briny waters just ahead, which was technically your front yard for the summertime. 

Back in the metropolis you’d learn to suffer through each passing day. Falling into the safety nets of routines and hoping for a better tomorrow.  

There was never fulfillment or satisfaction, just emptiness. A profound and very overbearing emptiness that swallowed you from the inside right into a dark pit of nothingness. 

“I hope you’re not vegan or anything,” Seokjin took a seat right beside you on the ledge of the building, your legs dangling from the edge, “otherwise we’d have to head back into town for some more dining options.” 

“I’m not vegan,” you confirmed. 

“Good, cause uncle Gong made us some crab cakes. He swears they’re his specialty but it’s my recipe,” he beamed. 

“Bullshit. .” I raised my eyebrow at his claim. 

“I’m serious!” he took a bite of the fritter, “well actually it was my mom’s but she taught me how to make it.” 

Was. Past tense. Did he realize he’d refer to his mother’s existence in such a way? He must’ve. Then, that would mean she’s no longer here. . No longer in Seokjin’s life. Did she abandon him or did she pass away? There were a million questions roaming around in your head but again you didn’t dare ask. 

Though, it was hard to imagine him caged in the torment of sorrow. Sure, everyone experiences it sooner or later but it just didn’t seem like him. You’d met him just a couple hours prior and you could already tell Seokjin was a bright soul. With a tender gaze that wrapped you up like a warm blanket and a smile that could ease any burden or pain even in the absence of words.

Already, you’d felt closer to him than anyone you had crossed paths back in the despondent sidewalks of the city. 

Seokjin is a friend. He is your friend. 

“Well, her recipe is amazing,” you utter in between bites, “so thank you for passing it on to your uncle to make.”

“It was my pleasure,” he smiled. 

A brief silence fell between the two as you finished your meal but you didn’t mind the lack of words. It was just the two of you, the lullaby of the waves, and the orange and pink hues set the sky ablaze as the sun continued its journey sinking deeper into the horizon.

Life here seemed to come right out of a painting — sort of like those you would see hung on the wall of an art exhibit and be completely divulged into, finding shelter behind the intricate lines and vibrant colors. 

“Where are those kids headed?” you asked, nodding towards the kids speeding down the street in skates and skateboards. 

“There’s a skatepark down the street,” he said, “I ride my bike there all the time whenever I wanna run away from kitchen duty.” 

“Kitchen duty?” you tittered. 

“You think I’m bullshitin’ again don’t you?” 

“You said it, not me.” 

He shook his head, laughing quietly at your playful banter, “do I not seem like a chef who also happens to be into bmx?” 

“I’d have to see you partake in both of those activities to believe it,” you shrugged. 

“I’m on prep duty early morning so I’ll get back to you on the cooking thing but we can begin with the skate park tomorrow,” Seokjin offered. 

“Tomorrow it is.” 

Seokjin swung back and forth, he seemed to have something on his mind but his lips remained sealed until finally he spoke, “What about you? Do you have any hobbies?” 

“Yeah,” you picked at the blue chipped nail polish on your nails, “I went to culinary school actually. I was a sous chef back in the city but I was fired.” 

“Oh, shit,” Seokjin’s eyes were the size of pool balls, “Led me right into the lion’s den. Didn’t you? Now, I can’t cook for you. You’d put me on the chopping block.” 

“I promise I won’t,” you clasped your hands together, “Contrary to what you might believe, cooking is not my passion.” 

“Parents?” he didn’t need to elaborate, you understood perfectly. 

“Kind of. .” You moved your head from side to side, “They didn’t really influence my decision but my dad’s a chef and I thought I needed to be just like him.” 

“And you learned you didn’t?” 

“Exactly,” you nodded. 

“So what’s your true passion?” 

“Art. I’ve always wanted to illustrate books,” you turned away sensing you’d peel too much back. Perhaps, you have. Perhaps, not but no one had ever asked you that before. No one has ever shown even the slightest interest in learning what fills your heart with joy and consumes your days with a sense of accomplishment, “it was my minor in college.” 

“You should go for it.” 

“You don’t even know if I’m good..” 

“I don’t need to,” he tilted his head in your direction, he was glowing — truly the textbook definition of beauty, “I can see the way your eyes twinkle at the mere mention of it. You should do what makes you happy.” 

“What makes you happy?” 

“This place.” His words weren’t elaborate yet somehow you kind of understood exactly what he meant. 

“What makes you stay?” 

“That’s what keeps me here,” he nodded signaling out to something in front of him but you couldn’t really decipher what he was pinpointing. 

Finally, your thoughts settled, “the people?” 

“The tide,” his chestnut eyes remained on the scenery laid out in front of the two of you. Then he continued, “it’s always serene; peaceful. And even in the havoc of storms the ocean manages to sing a tune that fills me with comfort. It calms me down.” 

“The tide.” You mumbled in solidarity with his words. Because it was true. The ocean was a music box kept open and the more you sat and listened the more at ease you felt. 

As if you were meant to be here, like you belonged here, right where you were. 

Remnants of the night before flashed in your mind and you remember Seokjin’s sweet words as he communicated that the roof was your official hideout as it was closed off to the public and uncle Gong despised climbing anymore stairs than he had to — a place where only the two of you could escape to and just get to know each other for hours and hours. You really liked the sound of that. 

You yawned, rubbing sleep off of your lids and walking into the bathroom to carry out your morning routine. Soon, you moved over to the kitchen preparing yourself a quick breakfast composed of eggs and toasts. After your rooftop adventure Seokjin had accompanied you back into the main part of town to grab a few groceries at the mini super market. Thank God for that. 

Time was now nearing the late afternoon and after throwing on a pair or shorts and a crop top you were flying out the front door, down the stairs and towards Kim’s Abroad. Seokjin said he had the early shift today. It was too early in the day for customers but he was helping with prep before the restaurant opened in about 15 minutes for the lunch rush. 

“You ready?” he asked, exiting the shop through the back door and hanging his apron on a hook you couldn’t particularly see. It was astounding how fine Seokjin looked even in the simplest outfits. Like today, he wore denim shorts which cut off mid-thigh, a white tank, black converse and the same backwards blue baseball cap which he tucked his floppy bangs under to keep them away from his face. 

“Ready.” you confirmed following him to the bike rack as he began unlocking his bicycle from the metal bar. 

Again, for the third time since you two met you hopped on the pegs placing your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself from falling off the back of his bike. You looked down at his soft golden skin stretching over his massive shoulders. You hadn’t noticed the day before but Seokjin was well-built. The dark veins stretched up the dorsal side of his hand and forearm as he gripped the handlebars steering the bike down the street. His bicep flexed whenever he pressed on the hand brakes. 

It was distracting. But whenever you tried to take in your surroundings and drink in the beauty of this town you found your gaze focused on him. 

He was the swirls of black and white psychedelic lines inducing you into a state of hypnosis — demanding your attention be set on him and refusing you spare even a second thinking of anything else. 

That gravitational pull you felt drawing you closer to him despite how close in proximity he was terrifying. You barely knew him and already you felt as if you’d known him forever. 

“We’re here,” he said, pulling up to the green metal bench inside of the skate park. Hoping off, you finally peeled your eyes away from Seokjin and looked ahead to the crowded park adorned with ramps, stairs, rails, dips and countless other obstacles.

“What if. .” you began, ogling the kids successfully landing their tricks, amazed by their effortless talent, “what if they get hurt?” 

“They stand up and just try again.” Surely, it couldn’t be that simple. It must hurt. It had to hurt. Your past of disdained misfortune resulted in you landing on the floor, head first, one too many times which hurt like hell. Those were slips and stumbles nothing hard enough to cause any real damage — you really couldn’t imagine busting your ass here on this fucking concrete. 

“Standing back up must hurt so fucking bad though.” 

“It does,” he pointed out the scars adorning his upper and lower extremities — some healed, some not. 

“So you spend a lot of time with these kids huh?” you asked, simply wanting him to open up a bit more; to learn all of the details unique to him. Those details which made Seokjin who he was.

“Sometimes. When I’m not in the shop,” he shrugged, taking a seat right beside you on the bench. His thighs rubbing up against yours, “don’t go judging me for hanging around here on my down time. I’m not the only twenty year old in this skate park.” 

“I wasn’t judging.”

“Your eyes tell.” 

“Are you saying I’m easy to read?” you asked, his eyes shed their usual tone of dark brown under the sun rays now glowing closer to caramel. 

“Right now you are,” you didn’t know if you were daydreaming but his vision continued to circle your features, first back and forth between your eyes and then lower down to your lips. 

“Are you going to show me what you got or are you just going to sit here all afternoon,” your voice barely above a whisper. You were afraid your stupid mind would lead you to do something stupid. 

“Actually. .” he pulled a pair of white and purple skates from the backpack he previously carried on his back, “we’re here for you.” 

“Absolutely not.” 

“Why not?” 

“I know we only met approximately twenty-four hours ago but I have a confession to make,” you cleared your throat and he moved closer towards you, (As if that could even be possible. . He was practically sitting on top of you), wanting to preserve your privacy, “I’m a klutz. I’m clumsy. I am a walking liability.” 

“Now, you’re just making things up.” 

You shook your head, “I’m not making it up.” 

“If that is the case then it’s okay,” he pushed the skates closer in your direction, “I’m here to help.” 

“I just hope you have a first aid kit near.” 

Seokjin reached into his bag showing me a red pouch with a white cross on it. A wide smile plastered on his face. “I’m always ready.” 

“Of course, you are,” you grabbed the skates from his hands, “ but I’m expecting you to catch me if I fall.” 

“I will, don’t worry. I’ll always be here to catch you.” 

In the middle of your chest, where the seat of your soul beat rhythmically on its day to day course, today in that moment, after those two words were uttered from his dulcet lips there was a stutter in your palpitations and for a brief moment you felt a ping at your chest. It hurt so much — but it also reminded you that you were alive. 

Beads of sweat strolled down your temples as you tried to maneuver the roller blades strapped to your feet. Your balmy palms remained clasped against Seokjin's holding on for dear life. Your eyes were glued to the floor but you continued leaning into his guidance, determining that you would get it and you would not stop until you did. 

Seokjin was extremely patient. Even with your frequent squealing and the death grasp you maintain, he remained calm. Slowly guiding you over the small ramps and the mini cylindrical cone shaped obstacle with the flat tops. 

“You got this,” his words of encouragement dozed you with overconfidence and soon you began feeling invisible. As if you could conquer this and anything else thrown your way no matter how big or difficult. 

With his guidance and instructions you continued being led around the skatepark with your knees slightly bent, your upper body leaning towards him for balance and the slowed gliding of the eight wheels against the pavement. 

“You’re doing great,” he wore a gleeful grin.

You didn’t know if his praise was tainting your lack of better judgment but the words escaped your lips before you even realized what you said,  “can I try it by myself?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. I forgot your helmet, knee and elbow pads,” he guided you towards the green bench once again, “let’s keep your first lesson simple. Just until we come back with the proper equipment. Yeah?” 

You nodded. “Yeah, you’re probably right. I think that was the adrenaline talking.” 

“I hope that means you’ve enjoyed yourself.” 

“Of course, as long as I’m invited I’ll definitely be tagging along more often,” you smiled. 

“You’re always invited.” 

Unlike the betrayal of your tremulous legs and arms while skating Seokjin maneuvered his bike with confidence. He dropped into the bowl without hesitation, then jumped. . levitating in mid air. You were stunned, it was as if he could fly — soaring in the sky like an eagle. He did it again, and again, and again and you cheered him on loudly hoping to reciprocate a fraction of the support he’d expressed as he helped you skate. 

“How did you even manage to do that. . without even breaking a sweat?” you were still stunned as the two of you walked down to the shore after leaving his bike back home after leaving the skatepark. Home. Well, temporary home. 

He shrugged, still a cocky smirk planted on his lips, “I used to practice a lot.” 

“You’ve got to teach me to do all of that.” 

“First, I gotta teach you to not fall off your skates.” 

“Right,” you smiled. 

The two of you walked right beside each other leaving no room for space in between — your hands kept brushing against one another and that friction alone radiated prickles of heat to crawl on your skin. 

“You’ll get it soon,” he leaned towards you, bumping his shoulder into yours, “you’re an amazing student. . So far.” 

“So far?” you gasped, taking fake offense at his meager ‘compliment’. 

“So far,” he nodded, “. . because you also did try to go off riding on your own after one lesson.” 

“I didn’t go off running,” you rolled your eyes, “I asked if I could. Drama queen.” 

“Because I was holding on.” 

You shook your head, “again, drama queen.” 

You and Seokjin walked on the sidewalk parallel to the shore line for quite some time now but he kept babbling about this secret spot he swore was worth it. Without a line of questions or an inch of hesitation you followed along knowing that each adventure promised contained a photo album of memories in your mind to go along with it. Still, you didn’t mind the distance and you didn’t care what the destination looked like as long as the plans involved having Seokjin presence right there with you.  

“This way,” he said, cutting down a small pathway leading towards the beach, “I don’t think your flip flops will cut it though,” 

“We’re not too far from the house. I could go back for some sneakers.” 

“There’s no need for that. We’re practically almost there. Come on,” he crouched down in front of you. Was he really insinuating you’d do what you thought he was? “Hop on.” 

Whoever said Mt. Everest was the highest peak on planet Earth was fucking lying.  Though, you have never found yourself on the mountains’ slope, already, you knew being carried on Seokjin’s back was far more exhilarating than any other journey you could embark up the Himalayas. From his back, the world seemed anew. It was brighter, clearer and scorching too. You weren’t really sure if that was because his height boosted you a bit closer to the sun or if it was because his palm rested on your bare thighs, holding you in place as he ascended down the large rocks. 

Perhaps, this is the kind of freedom he felt while riding his bike at the skatepark, quickly you began to understand why he chose that high. 

“Are you doing okay?” he asked. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Except you weren’t. His touch was ardent against your skin and while it felt like you played too close to fire, it was also addicting. All you knew is you wanted to feel that blaze on every inch of your body consuming you into lively flames. 

“We’re almost there.” 

“Hey Seokjin, can I ask you a question?” 

“Whatever you wanna know. I’ll answer,” you wrapped your hands around his neck, resting your elbows on his shoulders. His warm breath fanned your arms causing goosebumps to etch on your skin. For a brief second he rested his head against your forearm before continuing, “but first please call me you gotta start calling me Jin.” 

“Jin,” you mumbled, “it suits you.” 

He chuckled, “you had a question?” 

“Yeah,” you cleared your throat, “back at the skatepark you said you used practiced a lot. . on your bike.” 

“I did.” 

“You’re still referring to it in past tense.” 

“I am.” 

“Why?” you really didn’t want to push too far but you also had a desire to ask and know. 

“BMX, the competitions,” he began, “it’s something I did in the past.” 

You furrowed your brows, “But you still do it. What I mean is you still go to the skatepark.” 

He sighed, where was something weighing on his heart. You could feel it, “Yeah, now it’s just a pastime. Something I hold onto. Just to have some sort of life line between the old me and the present version myself.” 

You and Jin were polar opposites. While he chose to dwell in the past, in the blink of an eye you ditched yours back in the city. Without hesitation you abandoned your sluggish life as a caterpillar lurking through the shadows of skyscrapers — awfully slow and urging a better brighter tomorrow. Metamorphosis indicates that after the cocooning stage the insect should blossom into a beautiful butterfly. You weren’t at that last stage yet but you hoped one day you would be. 

“What was the old you like?” 

He shrugged with sour thoughts tugging the corner of his mouth downward, “I was young. . way too young obviously and naive but I also urged for calmer waters.” 

“Did riding help out?” you asked. 

“It did. It helped quite a lot for a long time,” he mumbled, “. .until it didn’t anymore and now I guess I’m trying to make peace with it.” 

“Is there a particular reason why it ever stopped helping?” You felt his muscles tensed as his slender fingers sunk a bit deeper into your skin. It didn’t hurt but you’d hit something you were trying to avoid, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” his feet finally came in contact with the golden grains of sand but he didn’t make any effort to put you down. No, he only held on tighter, “it just drags along a string of. .” he paused, “memories.” 

“Bad. . memories?” 

“Bad memories,” he confirmed. 

The ocean sang its soulful tune just a couple of feet away as the waves continued their rhythmic crashing on the shore. It was soothing. . peaceful and it eased your nerves against his warm palms. 

“During that time. .”  he began, sighing heavy as the soles of his feet continued sinking into the sand as you trotted further down the beach, “I was wandering around aimlessly—in my head for too long. I lost someone close. Someone who I loved more than I even tolerate myself.” 

“Jin, I’m so sorry.” 

“It’s okay,” there was a slight tremble in his voice, as if he was trying to get a massive knot down his esophagus, “it happened years ago.” 

“Still, time measures no grief. It must’ve been hard then and it probably still is,” unconsciously, you found yourself laying your head against the back of his neck, “but it is okay to feel, and cry and allow ourselves time to process and make our own peace. We’re only human after all.” 

“I’m still trying to make peace with it everyday but I choose to remember our positive days,” his eyes focused on the footprints he left behind on the sand, “her love, her embrace and tenderness, her charisma. . it was very easy to love her.” 

Her? Her. 

The only woman he’s ever referred to in the past tense was his mother shortly after the two of you met. You wanted to ask and express proper condolences. Not to be nosey but to be there for him and provide a shoulder for him to lean on. Make sure he’s actually okay, although he seems to be dealing with things well you still don’t want to trigger any melancholy memories. 

“The good memories will keep her alive and grounded in your heart,” your hand hovered over the center of his chest. “I’m glad you’re on the road to making peace.” 

“Yeah, me too.” 

“You should continue riding though,” you murmured, “Despite what happened I’ve seen you soar on your bike. It makes you happy and you should do what makes you happy.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” he giggled, “I see what you’re doing.” 

You gasped, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“Of course not,” he laughed. 

“I mean it though.”

“I know,” his hands roamed higher down the avenue of your thighs a bit closer to your bum but not quite. The feeling was sensational—vertiginous and you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t read through all of the scenarios blooming in your head. . The ones where his touch doesn’t  just stop mid way up your thighs. No, instead he continues inching higher and higher until. . “Thank you,” 

His words pulled you out of your daydream yet you still felt the despotic heat coursing through your body. Too potent to ignore. 

Seokjin’s secret spot is breathtaking. A monument right out of a National Geographic magazine cover. The two of you lay in the small cave with an oculus skylight at the top allowing the sun to peek through when it sat high on the cerulean sky along with two archways opened right up to the roaring sea. 

The grains of the golden sand felt therapeutic and warm under your indolent frame. There was a brisk breeze cooling you down, not too cold but just cool enough to dry your previously balmy skin. 

It was a slice of heaven. . right here, right now. 

And Jin, he laid right beside you his body heat radiating in eminent waves. Finally his dark strands on full display no longer hidden under the cap the way it’s been since you met him days prior. His shirt was off displaying his sculpted physique which captivated your attention entirely. 

Seokjin’s secret spot is breathtaking but so was he. And fuck was it blinding the way he was shining brighter than the amber star overhead. He was ravishing; stunning through and through. 

“Was the trip worth it?” he asked, his dark eyes burning a hole at your side. 

“I barely made as much as a trip, you carried me the entire way here,” you scoffed, “is your back really doing okay?” 

He rolled his eyes, “for the hundredth time my back is doing just fine.” 

“So, let me ask you, was the trip worth it with me on your back the entire time?” your expression was deadpanned.

“Wrong question. .” he smirked. “Did my hands and back find comfort in carrying you the entire way? Yes.” 

His hands on you. Your mind flashed in spurs to that very moment where his warm touch birthed goosebumps on your skin. Quickly, that feeling became looped in your mind and even now, when his hands were no longer on you, you felt it—God, you felt it. 

“And the truth comes to light,” you tutted, kissing your teeth and shaking your head in disapproval, “is that all you wanted? To feel me up, Jin?” 

The apples of his cheeks were dusted in a deep roseate shade, “I mean. . it’s not all I wanted.” 

“Are you blushing, Seokjin?” you mumbled, “I thought this was a confessional. I mean you enjoyed having your hands on me the entire way here, right?” 

“Right,” The crimson shade traveled to the tips of his ears. He’s bashful; how cute. 

“Jinnie?” 

He hummed. 

“I also enjoyed it,” you said, “it’s too bad though.”  

“What is?” His eyes were doe-like, holding a luminous glimmer which projected the intricate ocean waves on them as they continued rocking right before you. 

“Your hands never really made it where I needed them.” 

He gulped, “and where was that?” 

“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about,” your fingertips toyed with the button of your shorts. Typically, you weren’t this forward and simply let your misfortune map the adverse roads of your life but today you didn’t care to fight against yourself. You wanted him. You needed him, “of course, we can pick up where you left off and actually progress higher this time.” 

“Yeah,” he nodded. 

“Are you okay with that?” 

“I’m so okay with that.” 

“Is that the only way in?” you pointed in the direction the two of you came in. 

“Boats can pull up through the archways as well,” Jin’s bottom lip was tucked under his lips and his gaze devouring you entirely. 

Of course, you began the show by slipping your hands under the fabric of your denim shorts. Your middle finger began drawing vertical lines against your clothed slit—dragging it slowly. Up and down, again and again, until the friction became useless to your zealous desire. 

“Then, we better be quick,” you breathed out. 

“I better be quick,” he emphasized moving closer to you. 

The shadows of his face were so close to yours you could draw out every little feature and decipher the hints of eucalyptus and mint from his morning shampoo. Your hands landed on his cheek, leading him closer to you; pressing your bodies to one another. 

Seokjin’s lips were warm and soft like velvet moving in a uniformed dance against yours. It was slow yet passionate as if he was trying to savor every inch of your lips—as if he wanted to be consumed by the taste of your tongue. 

The pads of his fingers left behind a trail of goosebumps as they moved lower and lower, until they came in contact with your shorts. In a swift moment he unbuttoned them and began drawing small figures onto your skin right where the hem of your panties sat. 

Between his lips and his touch you felt inebriated, as if you were mindlessly roaming around somewhere between the clouds and the sky. 

He pulled away but his forehead rested on yours. His lips still hovered over yours as his paced pants fanned his cool breath on them. 

“Can I. .?” 

“Please, Seokjin. Please touch me,” the pleads dripped from your lips semi-automatically and you had to admit there wasn’t a hint of shame to hold you back. 

There was nothing on earth more exhilarating, more enlivening than the feeling of Jin’s hands sinking under the fabric of your silk underwear. Not riding a roller coaster, not climbing the highest mountain on earth, not even winning the fucking lottery. His touch was intoxicating. . just like his kisses and there was nothing you’d rather feel. Except, probably a bit, more. 

“Faster, please,” you whined, swaying your hips against his touch as he drew circles on your aching clit. If obeying and compliance was a stern trait then it is one Jin conveyed with no push backs or arguments. 

“Tell me something doll,” his fingers traveled lower lining up against your entrance. He pressed against your cunt but never pushed past—the squelching of your wetness echoed in your ears. It was all you could hear, “did you ever think we’d be in this predicament this early on?” 

You gasped, urgently shaking your head as his fingers became wrapped in your walls moving in and out of you slowly, “I-I didn’t. But I did hope for it.” 

He sneered, “you hoped for it, huh?” 

“Dreamt of it on my first night here actually.” 

“I dreamt of it too, you know,” he whispered softly, his lips traced the shell of your ear, “the way you’d feel, your sweet sounds, the way you’d be clenching around me the exact same way you are right now.” 

His name was a mantra laced on your tongue and you uttered it once and once again as if it was muscle memory. The only thing, the only name coherent enough in your head—the only one you knew, which was probably true. You couldn’t even recall your own. 

But he had no mercy on you, his digits had no mercy on you—they just moved in and out of your slickness quicker and quicker as time progressed and you were so close, you practically stood at the edge as your orgasm approached in a massive wave. 

“Please,” you moaned, “please let me-“ 

He shook his head, “Just a bit longer, doll.” 

You hadn’t even realized your eyes were shut tight, the back of your eyelids tainted with desperation. And Jin was no longer stationed beside you, instead he kneeled in front of your bent legs spreading them farther and farther away from each other. 

The ocean still sat just a couple feet ahead, still singing that soulful song which eased your nerves the longer you laid on that very sand waiting—urging for Jin’s touch on you. 

It was all you could think of. . the way his touch burned trails of passion on your skin leaving behind a desire so potent that you just couldn’t extinguish without his help.  

He was the only one who could put it out. 

Seokjin removed both your shorts and panties leaving them pooled at your ankles. His austere gaze remained on your cunt and he seemed to be drinking in every detail of your blossomed rose. 

“Beautiful,” he mumbled, almost inaudibly.  

“Jin,” your eyes, your voice both dripped with desperation. 

He nodded understanding your unspoken command almost instantly inching closer and closer between your thighs until his face sat just a couple inches away. His tongue was frigid against your slit it weaved a bolt of electricity intertwined along the ridges of your spine. A gasp escaped your lips as he perfected the combination of sucking and licking your sensitive bud before dragging his flattened tongue along your folds. 

A delectable repetition. One, more saccharine than any dessert you’d had the burden of making back during your days in the kitchen. 

This was better. It was so much fucking better. 

Seokjin’s slurp noises against you, your sweet incoherent sounds and the cries of the ocean were one in the same. All of them were the end product of an orchestrated ballad. 

“Jinnie,” your nails massaged his scalp before gripping his face, pushing him closer to you. God, you needed him closer. So much fucking closer. 

“Yes, doll?” His words almost muffled an evident refusal to stop what he was doing. 

“Can I h-help you out?” 

“With?” he continued. 

“Even from up here I can see how tight your shorts have become,” you hissed, “I want you in my mouth while you eat me out.” 

Seokjin pulled away. Your juices coated his chin and mouth, “That’s fine baby, but I want you sitting on my face.” 

Jin took your spot sprawled out on the sand. You climbed on top of him, placing your knees on either side of his face claiming your seat on his features. His hands snaked around your thighs, pulling you down, positioning your soaked cunt to be aligned with his mouth. Meanwhile, you leaned forwards helping him pull down and finally kick off his briefs. 

Seokjin was big. Bigger than you’d imagined. 

Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock as you took his tip past your lips, finally getting a taste of his pre-cum. At the same time you felt him take a swipe on your fold before his eloquent tongue dug inside you diligently licking your walls, ridding them off your juices. 

The iteration of a sinful melody. Building up tension in the pit of your stomach while your back arched and your toes curled. 

Though, you tried to focus on the way his cock moved in and out of your mouth—his deathly grasp on your thighs and his tongue. . It was all too distracting. 

“Fuck, Jin,” you keen too dazed in pleasure to fully grasp the way you tugged on his hair keeping his head in place as you began to grind on his face, finally succumbing to the urgency of reaching your approaching peak. 

He hummed under you, leading your unoccupied hand down to his cock and guiding it up and down his shaft. This went on for some time. Felt like forever and then finally he came in warm spurts coating your hand. And that very image drove you to your climax as he licked you dry. 

Carefully, you climbed off his face and laid right beside him, his chest heaving as he attempted to catch his breath. 

Your name sounded like peaches in his strained voice, “you. . that was amazing.”  

“You’re amazing,” you giggled, “but once again you did all the work.” 

“I don’t mind doing all the work,” he leaned over leaving peppered kisses on your cheek. 

“You say that to all the girls who occupy the Airbnb?” 

“Nope,” he emphasized the p, “just you.” 

“I find that hard to believe. Just look at you.” 

“You think my charms and good looks are hard to resist?” he beamed. 

“That and the third leg in between your thighs.” 

He laughed. “Well, believe it. You’re the only girl I’ve done. . anything with for years.” 

Your heart beat rhythmically in your chest at the utterance of his confession. His words didn’t mean much at all but you couldn’t help the fluffers in your head and the way your stomach felt so giddy you thought you’d vomit. 

It felt foreign but you welcomed it nevertheless. You liked that feeling. 

“You wanna go swimming?” you asked. 

“Skinny dipping?” he quirked a brow. 

“You’re not worried about someone coming?” 

“If someone’s come in for the past like fifteen minutes they saw me neck deep in your pussy,” he stood up taking off his shirt and leaving his shorts behind before running towards the aquamarine waves, “I don’t really think it matters anymore.”

“If?” you asked following behind him. 

The day before yesterday was a dream. 

A dream, no a wet dream. Composed of your fervent fantasies. And you? You lived in that cave and you probably would for the rest of your time here. Dwelling on his warm touch on your skin—goosebumps rose on every inch of your body causing the hairs on the back of your neck to stand straight. 

Your fingers followed the trails he’d mapped on your body, paved so intricately, they were so easy to follow and all roads led to the same exact place. 

You were so wet, but you probably had been ever since that day. Was that normal? You didn’t care, you just wanted him to touch you again. 

There was a knock on the door waking you right out of your daydreams. Grabbing your robe you wrapped it around your figure before heading towards the door. 

“Hey,” you opened the door standing aside allowing him to come in. 

“I’m sorry I’ve been MIA since yesterday,” he kissed your cheek—you guys weren’t nearly official but it kind of felt like you were. . or you hoped so anyway, “Uncle Gong has been on edge lately. There’s another seafood restaurant opening up on the pier. It's got him going crazy.” 

“Crazy prep hours?” 

He sighed before slouching down on the couch, “crazy prep hours,” he confirmed. 

“You must be so tired,” you cooed, “do you want anything to eat? I can make you something.” 

“I’m okay, besides food is not exactly what I’m craving.” 

“Hm,” you straddled his lap. “Then, what is?”

“I should’ve kissed you after I ate you out yesterday,” his hands slid under your robe kneading your upper thighs, “you would’ve gotten a chance to see how addicting you taste.” 

His phone began buzzing, it was Uncle Gong. Jin sighed before pressing the accept button and in a matter of seconds you heard the older man’s voice in a frantic banter. 

You were one hundred percent sure it wasn’t Uncle Gong’s intention to cockblock but you just wanted Seokjin to stay and fuck you into the mattress. 

You were still dripping just thinking about it. However, by the look on his face you were certain he had other news—ones which hindered your fantasies of early morning sex. 

“I gotta go.” 

“Do you have to?” you whined. 

“I don’t want to,” he leaned over, leaving a kiss on your lips. It was brief and your body screamed for more but you didn’t vocalize it. Instead you sat in silence as he continued to carry out a mental battle attempting to find a victo. He had to go, you knew that much. You also knew he wanted to stay. You wanted him to as well but he couldn’t. 

He stood from the couch but before he could make his way towards the front door Jin turned back around, kneeling right before you. His hand reached up cupping your face as he leaned closer until his silken lips landed back on yours. However, this wasn’t just another peck. 

This kiss. 

It swept you under the currents of the bestial sea and you sank deeper towards the ocean floor but you weren’t scared. In the void, under the darkness of the tide Jin was a beacon of light—guiding you towards an eternity where his lips kept moving on yours the way they were right now. 

This fucking kiss. 

Is your beginning but also your end. 

It took your last breath but also made you feel alive. 

You didn’t want it to end. . but it did, “meet me at the restaurant tomorrow tonight. Uncle Gong is letting me prepare something for you. Took a lot of convincing but I had him come around.” 

“I’ll be there.” 

“Seven o’clock.” 

“Just twenty four hours.” 

He smiled before closing the door behind him. 

Back in the city dating was rather difficult. 

Not only were you a workaholic, you also avoided any kind of social events and situations outside of the restaurant. 

Here, things were a bit different. You came here for a chance at self reflection, to work on yourself and find the real you but instead your path became intertwined with Seokjin and while you didn’t mind you also couldn’t help but reprimand your heart whenever it skipped a beat at the sight of him. 

Sort of like it was doing right now, Jin was in the kitchen of Kim’s Abroad and you sat at the small table set-up for a candlelit dinner for two. 

The gears in the rules of the universe shifted Noone ever went through this kind of trouble—to plan something this nice after they’d already had their fun with you. Especially if things would have taken their  course as easily as they did with him. 

Well, except, maybe Seokjin. 

Cute. 

“Tonight’s special,” he set both of your plates on the table revealing a cut of grilled salmon garnished with lemon wedges, and accompanied by coconut rice and roasted potatoes, “I hope you like it. . but please do lie if you hate it. I’m sensitive.” 

You laughed, mounting your spoon with the perfect bite of all the foods he’d prepared combined before taking it in your mouth, your taste buds danced in delight, “Seokjin, this is heavenly. It is truly amazing.” 

“Is that the honest truth or are you just looking to spare my feelings?” 

“I would never lie,” you swallowed before continuing, “This is all absolutely delicious.” 

“Better than Uncle Gong’s crab cakes?” 

“I thought that was your recipe?” 

“It is,” he shrugged, “but he thinks he makes them better than me.” 

“I don’t know, I think he wins this war,” you joked, “those crab cakes were killer.” 

“Traiter,” he scoffed.

Dinner was exquisite but small talk was left to a minimum when you both realized Uncle Gong’s restaurant curfew was quickly approaching. After cleaning up and closing up you and Seokjin headed towards the roof, unwilling to give up the night and let it cease. 

The street lights lit up the street corners and while there were people roaming around here and there—it was nothing compared to the congested afternoons. 

But you liked this. 

The feeling of you and Seokjin being the only people left behind in the world, the songs of the waves still playing in the background and the stars gleaming overhead. 

“Has this always been your secret spot?” you asked, laying beside him on the navy blue duvet. 

“Yes,” his eyes glowed under the light of the moon, again they looked lighter than you’d remembered, “I practically lived up here like three summers ago.” 

“An escape?” you asked, not really needing to emphasize. 

He nodded, “after mom passed the house choked me with her lingering presence, her scent, her love. I wanted her back. To spend just one more day with her and make sure she knew how much I loved her and how much I would miss her but that’s just not how life worked and she was no longer there.” 

“I’m so sorry,” you snuggled closer into him, laying your head on your chest—his heartbeat thumped against your ear, “I can’t even imagine how hard that time must have been.” 

“It was,” he laid his head on yours, “It was harder than hard if that even makes sense. I shut a lot of things out and no longer found comfort in the things I loved. .” he paused. 

“Like riding?” 

“Yeah,” he sighed, there was a slight tremble in his voice, “it’s just mom wasn’t there to cheer me on anymore. Looking out at the stands was depressing because her usual seat was empty. Sadness overshadowed everything on the track, she was all I could think of.” 

You didn’t say anything, just allowed him to carry on without interruptions. He continued, “Uncle Gong tagged along whenever he didn’t have to manage the restaurant but it just wasn’t the same, you know?” 

You hummed letting him know you still listened attentively. 

“Wounds heal over time though and while this one tears a bit every time I think of her, I know she’s up there watching over me,” he said. 

“She is, she’s always been watching over you and she always will be.”

“I know,” he simpered, leaving a soft peck on your forehead. “What about you? Are you missing your life back in the city yet?” 

“Not a chance.” 

“What is this vendetta you hold against the city?” 

“The city is such a hypocrite. I never understood how so many souls could live in the same place and yet one person could still manage to feel so lonely,” you exhaled rather loudly, “life. . things were supposed to be different, you know?” 

“Different isn’t always bad.” 

“I suppose not.” 

“It’s not,” a slight smile sat on his lips. A brief silence fell between you two and then he asked the question you’d avoided giving any thought to since setting foot in town, “do your parents know you’re here?” 

“Not. . really?” 

“That sounded like a question.” 

“It kind of is.” 

A slight smile was displayed on his lips, “Are you here hiding from them?” 

“Kind of. .” you cackled, “it’s not really hiding if they don’t know I’m here to begin with right?” 

“So they don’t know you left the city?” 

“They know—I’m not in the city and taking a small break but they don’t know exactly where,” you say mushing all the words into one long word, not really wanting to decipher what you were saying, “they also don’t know I was fired. I think that’ll break their heart too much.” 

“Are you planning to tell them anytime soon?” 

“I was going to tell them. . once I make it back to the city and find a new job.” 

“Oh..okay.” 

His embrace grew tighter, he held you closer and you could feel his warmth wracking your nerves. It was like he didn’t want to let go.. not now. Not ever. And you didn’t want him to either, “but I’m not sure if that truly is the reality of what I want,” you sighed, “I was miserable in the city, the life I lived there was rigid. Besides, cooking is not what I intend to do for the rest of my life. I just. . I don’t know what to do.” 

“All of the roads leading to our destiny are paved the way they are for a reason,” Jin offered, “they mold us and guide us to the exact spot where we are supposed to be.”  

“You’re right.” 

“Also call your parents. You deserve to pursue what you want but they should also know,” he said. “Plus, I bet they’re worried sick.” 

“Again. . you’re right.” a low sough escaped your lips mimicking the swift draft blowing by in the late night. 

”I know I am,” he said smugly, “what would you even do without me?”

“You’re a cocky motherfucker you know.” 

“If by cocky motherfucker you mean multi-talented handsome Jin. Then, yes I do agree with that.” 

“Not what I meant,” you mumbled. 

“You know, you weren’t talking all this shit when we were in that cave a couple days ago.” 

“Yeah, I think that’s because my mouth was kind of a little busy.” 

“Right,” Jin drew in a deep breath, his fingers toyed with the straps of your dress, “you know I think we left something unfinished back in your apartment a couple of days ago.” 

“Yeah, it’s too bad that you had to go,” you turned around now lying on your side facing away from him, “because I wanted—I needed you to stay so bad.” 

“Needed, huh?” he asked, pressing closer against your back side. Lingers of sandalwood and citrus invaded your nostrils. An aromatic scent so rich and so addicting all you craved was to bury your nose to the base of his neck and grow faded off his fragrance. 

You closed your eyes, ensnared in the trance of his soft pants as he began grinding his crotch against your ass at an agonizing pace. 

His clothed dick marked you before you even had the chance to feel him inside you.

 It was torture. 

“Jin,” you moaned. 

“What’s wrong, doll?” he replied in a derisive tone while clicking his tongue. His hands reached lower and lower until they landed on your inner thighs, “am I close to where you want me?” 

You nodded frantically, “Higher.” 

His fingers delineated the goosebumps forming on your skin as he dawdled his journey to your soaked cunt. 

“Higher, Seokjin. Please,” your voice tainted with desire and desperation. 

“Tell me, is this where you want me?” His digits traced your folds spreading your wetness en route. Your dress now hiked up to your waist as Jin began rubbing small circles on your clit. Then, slowly he repeated, “Is this where you wanted me?” 

“Hm.” 

“You were anticipating this weren’t you?” Jin whispered, causing downpours of chills to trickle down your back, “is that why you wore no underwear?” 

His fingers continued working in-between your folds, “Uh, fuck yes!” You screamed out. 

There were approximately billions of stars in the Milky Way galaxy, a lot of which you were looking up to at that very moment. And yet as you laid there under the incantation of Seokjin’s finger you witnessed the birth of many stars flickering into life. 

Your chest heaved as you settled down from yet another astounding high. 

“Doll,” Seokjin swiped his fingers coated with your juices onto your lips, as if he was applying lip gloss on you. You opened your mouth taking his digits in licking them clean. “Holy fuck, you will be the death of me.” 

“Jin?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I need you.” 

He laid flat on his back patting his lap, “come on, baby girl.” 

You straddled him, your wet pulsating cunt rubbing against his clothed erection. There was a painful hunger rooting in between your legs—craving nothing but to have him buried deep in you. 

“Take it out,” he instructed. You unbuttoned his jeans and pulled them down along with his briefs just enough for his erection to spring free. 

Slowly, you began sinking down on his cock. Your mouth agape at the overwhelming feeling of him filling you up while your hands landed on his chest for balance. Once accustomed to his size you began to move up and down on his length as he disappeared deeper and deeper inside of you. 

Seokjin was full of pleasant surprises; his fingers, his mouth, his tongue so it was really no surprise his dick was equally as blessed. 

“Seokjin,” you whimpered. 

“Oh doll,” his hands gripped your waist, fingers digging into your skin likely to leave marks behind—guiding you to move at a quicker pace.  “Fuck!” 

“God, you feel so good.” 

The composition of your bodies moving against each other molded into the perfect whole. You were two, but while he fucked into you the way he was you felt as if he belonged inside your walls and you never ever wanted to feel empty again.  

“Doll, I’m so close,” his rough and raspy voice was a bass tune in your ears, “so fucking close.” 

“I want you to cum in me. Please, Jin,” you continued riding him, your skin slapping on his continuing your journey on his cock sliding up and down over and over until your walls began to clench around him. 

It wasn’t long before the two of you reached your peak and you collapsed on top of him, out of breath and too tired to do anything that required moving in any way. 

“Now tell me, is there any chance you’d stay even after the summer’s over.” 

“I’ve been thinking about it,” his skin was scolding even over the layer of his t-shirt, his chest and forehead glistening by a thin layer of sweat, “a lot actually.” 

“And what was the conclusion?” 

“I like it here,” you kissed his cheek, “I think I’ll be staying. . For now. Take some time to myself and explore things.” 

“I like it when you’re here.” 

“That reminds me,” you reached for your purse, “ I have a surprise for you.” 

You pulled out a piece of paper and handed it over to him. His eyes scanned the sketch, “Is this us?” 

“It’s us. . in the cave,” you giggled, “I tried to capture every moment.” 

“I especially like the one with my head between your legs,” a rosey shade painted his cheeks. 

“Had to portray my favorite moment from that day.” 

“We can always recreate it. To liven the memory, you know.” 

“Right now?” 

“Right now,” he disappeared lower in between your thighs, his head hiding under the fabric of your dress. 

Kind days were definitely in forecast especially if you had Seokjin right there by your side. 

-

-

-

an: holy fuck this was a blast to write. as always if the smut is intolerable pls look away (although, that may be hard cause there are multiple smut scenes so. . uh, yeah).

for the seokjinnies who miss seokjin very dearly .

[jeffambrose]

Hard to believe but I’ve been chasing Zac on two wheels for 30 years now. Literally thousands of miles together from BMX bikes in 1994 to some of the most amazing trails and roads I’ve experienced last week in Knoxville. With the rides fewer and farther between these days the shared miles carry more weight.

[tmvcreations]

Hey guys sorry for so many pictures, but i must give you all the full effect! Any wayyy lets get into it!! High School Daze features 18 different group poses. I had the idea for some at school poses as well as those fun nights we all had as teens, whether it was drinking, joy riding or enjoying some mary janee.

I started this pack originally when High School Years was released with the hopes of releasing it back then, but this pack has been a looong work in progress{along with other packs}. I also tossed the idea back and forth for awhile now releasing a baby themed pack but with infants release so close id rather wait so i can bring you my special poses but better! So ive finally put this all together for you guys and truly hope you enjoy what ive created.

These poses can be used in any type of setting, {it doesnt have to be high school} Teen thru Adult it dont matter.

Here are some quick descriptions, the accessories required and then download your little heart out!!!

Poses 1,2&3 Are group poses at the lockers*

Poses 4&5 are group poses of 3 friends, 2 walking, 1 on bmx fliriting

Pose 6 Is regular 3 friends non flirting version

Pose 7&8 Is of 2 friends sitting on the stairs smoking mary jane

Pose 9 is similar to 7&8 except another friend joins.

Pose 10&11 Is a 6 person group pose, 2 sims drinking whiskey from a glass, 1 sim smoking mary jane and 1 sim drinking JD from the bottle. These poses came to me as an inspiration when i saw this cute little hang out spot on a certian lot {Credit to Teamjezza for creating "Noo Yawk Block" on the Gallery}

Pose 12&13 Is a 5 sim group pose drag racing in a sense, 2 sims smoking mary jane.

Pose 14&15 Is a 7 sim group pose playing video games on the couch

Pose 16,17&18 is a 3 sim group pose joy riding in a jeep MANY THANKS TO THE CREATORS OF THE ACCESSORIES I USED.

REQUIRED

POSE PLAYER - https://sims4studio.com/thread/2617/andrews-studio

TELEPORT ANY SIM- https://scumbumbomods.com/teleport-any-sim

BMX - https://mxims.tumblr.com/post/172352368092/bmx-bike-7-swatches-6442-polygons-helmet

JAGUAR 2014 F-TYPE - https://www.lorysims.com/jaguar.html

MASERATI 2018 GRANCABRIO S- https://www.lorysims.com/maserati.html

BACKPACK - https://www.patreon.com/posts/road-to-nowhere-35571015

PURSE - https://www.patreon.com/posts/miyuki-coat-bag-74580167

BLUNT - https://www.patreon.com/posts/all-frxsk0-69821609?utm_medium=clipboard_copy&utm_source=copyLink&utm_campaign=postshare_creator

WHISKEY - https://melbennetts4.blogspot.com/2021/01/sims-4-whisky-collection.html

JEEP - https://www.tumblr.com/kyekyeke/172150466567/sg5150-1988-jeep-wrangler-top-down-fresh-prince

CONTROLLER - https://simcophogi.tumblr.com/post/176177884444/cool-kids-poses-for-the-lil-gamers-theres-an

STAIRS - https://mxims.tumblr.com/post/144154577767/industrial-u-stairs-deco-11-swatches-metal#post-notes

@ts4-poses @pixelfinds @wookyccfind @coffee-cc-finds @abigailbloom2022 @room215-reblog

!!!!!!!!!TELEPORTER PLACEMENT PICTURE BELOW!!!!!!!!!

Hope you enjoy! :) Any questions or problems please contact me.

DO NOT CLAIM AS YOUR OWN.

DO NOT RE-EDIT MY POSES.

DOWNLOAD LINK(sfs, ADFREE): http://www.simfileshare.net/download/3698293/

PLEASE PLACE TELEPORTERS EXACTLY AS YOU SEE THEM!

[walesfootball]

Valencia Is Lonely - Alexia Putellas x Reader

Reader is a motorcyclist.

This was requested by @onedirection66865. Thank you for this prompt. I got inspiration for it real quick as soon as you sent it. Hope it's okay. Really enjoyed writing this!

The night was quiet as you looked up to the sparkling stars in the sky. The balcony of your hotel room was an inviting place when nerves settled in your stomach, especially before a big competition. It kept you calm knowing how small you were in this world, and that everyone in the city below you had lives of their own and problems they were facing. You were currently in Valencia. It was the night before the last race of the prestigious MotoGP World Championships. You were an incredible motorcyclist. You were known all over the world for your impressive skills and speed around the corners of the track. Your calmness setting you apart from the rest of the competition. Bikes were your passion ever since you were younger. It started with regular bikes, racing on roads and rough tracks in the forests. You then ventured into BMX racing, something which you were still good at. And when you were a little older your obsession became motorbikes.  You got to take your motorbike around the world with you, racing in countries you never knew existed. The adrenaline you got from riding one was unrecognisable in everything else you’d ever done. Nothing compared.

The butterflies continued to fly in your stomach as you watched the dark sky pass by overhead. You wished she was here to watch you race tomorrow. The love of your life. The girl who overtook your love for motorbikes. Who knew that could happen? You’d met when the MotoGP arrived in Spain, more specifically Cádiz. You loved riding in Spain, it became one of your favourite countries, which is why you moved there. The sport is much loved in Spain, and it helped that your sponsors were Spanish too. It was an incredible excuse to stay in Spain for your work, but being even closer to Alexia was the main reason. You fell in love with her quicker than you imagined.

The Barcelona girls had gone to watch the women’s MotoGP. You had won the race, and had gone to meet them afterwards. You remember shaking hands with Alexia and feeling electricity rocketing up your arm. She smiled at you fully and you knew you were a goner. Every time she smiles at you now, it takes you back to when you’d first met her and you fall in love all over again. She’d try going to as many of your races as she could. The MotoGP races were all over the world so you didn’t expect her to go to every single one, especially with her football schedule.

At the moment, you were a few hours away from where she was in Barcelona. Three hours and 25 minutes to be exact. She had a game that morning whereas your race would be in the afternoon. You doubt she’d make it due to the timing.

You sent her a message to say goodnight and a good luck in her game the next day. Your phone started ringing. You smiled and accepted the FaceTime call. Alexia was in bed, watching you through the screen with a shy smile on her face.

“Amor. What are you doing up? You should be asleep.”

“So should you.” You joked.

“What’s on your mind?” Alexia shuffled in bed, trying to find a comfortable position as she balanced the phone on the pillow next to her, as if you were right in the bed with her.

“No it’s nothing. You should get to sleep. I just wanted to wish you good luck before tomorrow.”

Alexia gave you a look through the screen, her eyebrows raised, “Really?”

“I’m just nervous. It should be like any other race, but I’m stuck in my head about it.”

“But it’s not just any race, is it? This race decides if you win the whole competition. And there is nothing to be nervous about, especially when you’ve been racing the whole competition so well.”

“Yeah I guess.”

Alexia could tell her words weren’t working. She knew it wasn’t the race you were nervous about, but the missing presence.

“You know I will be watching. After my game I will be watching you.”

“Really?” The validation that you needed from her was all that you needed in that moment. You desperately wanted her there with you, but knew she couldn’t.

“And then you’ll come back to Barcelona and we can celebrate properly.”

“That sounds good. I can’t wait.”

You spoke on the phone for another hour or so until the both of you began yawning uncontrollably at each other. You got into bed, calm with the knowledge that Alexia would be watching you, texting you throughout the race so you could read them all afterwards, and FaceTime after the race too.

——

You felt confident from the moment you woke up to the moment you stepped foot on the track with your bike. Your prized possession covered in things that meant the world to you. You had your sponsors all over your red, green and white bike. You also had the Barcelona badge on the front of your bike. Alexia had also written her name with a message of good luck in permanent marker to permanently remind you of her presence, whether she was there watching you race or at home.

As soon as you turned on that last sharp corner, you looked around seeing the home straight. You could see the finish line. You looked behind you quickly, but no one was in sight. You had just carried on throughout the race, trying not to pay any mind to anyone else. That was what made you such an incredible racer. You almost raced your own race, racing against your shadow for a majority of the race.

You crossed the line. You could hear your team celebrating through the earpiece, and the crowd around you cheering. Flags waving in the air, and music blasting through the speakers. You couldn’t believe it. Winning the MotoGP. Your dream. You jumped off your bike as soon as you’d parked it, looking for your phone. The phone ringing as you waited for Alexia to answer.

“Amor! I can’t believe it! You won! I knew you would!”

You laughed at her excitement, “I can’t believe it! It went so quick! I felt like I was only on the track for 5 minutes!”

“I have never seen you race like that! You were amazing.” Alexia had really gotten into the world of motor racing. She hadn’t a clue what the rules were or anything. But she enjoyed watching you race. She loved the passion that oozed out of you when you spoke about it. In turn, you loved watching her play. The difference today was that this was the last race of the racing season, while her football season was just beginning. It was a friendly against Manchester United.

“I wish you were here. But I’ll do media here and then I’ll be as quick as I can. I should be back by ten.” You smiled down the phone.

“Take your time and we’ll leave together.”

“What do you mean?”

“Turn around, amor.”

You turned around in your confused state. You saw Alexia stood in her Barcelona training top and a pair of shorts, clear that she basically ran from the game just to get here on time. You ran quickly to her and pulled her into a tight hug, spinning her around as she laughed at your excitement.

“What are you doing here?! Actually, how are you here?!”

“I couldn’t miss this. I asked Jonatan if he could sub me out early so I could get here in time for the race. He said he would because it’s a friendly.”

“I can’t believe it.”

“I’m so proud of you. I hope you know that.”

You held her in your arms, still in your race suit. You felt her ridding you of the tears that had escaped you, still in disbelief that she’d made it.

“I love you so much. Thank you for being here. It was enough to know you were watching, but to actually have you here…” Your face dug into her neck, holding her still, not wanting to let her go.

“I love you too. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else. I was always going to be here to see you win.”

“You had this planned for a while, haven’t you?” You pulled back, smiling cheekily at her.

“Of course,” Alexia held your face in both of her hands and looking deeply into your eyes with so much love, “the love of my life has just won the Championship, do you really think I’d miss that?” She smiled widely at you.

Alexia leaned in, kissing you gently. You smiled into the kiss, couldn’t believe your luck. Not only had you won your dream title, but also had the woman of your dreams by your side celebrating it all with you.

[beardedmrbean]

A judge appeared disgusted Wednesday with an unlicensed and uninsured driver – with 19 previous traffic citations — who killed a bicyclist last fall, sending him to prison for at least two years.

Julius Hopkins, 32, pleaded guilty earlier this year to a charge of reckless driving resulting in death for the Sept. 23, 2023, crash that killed Nathan Miller, 32. Hopkins had no driver’s license, registration, or insurance when he collided with Miller on Nellis Boulevard near Tropicana Avenue in the southeast valley.

Miller, a BMX world champion, died hours after the crash. Hopkins was driving a car registered to him, records showed. The registration, which appeared to be a temporary Nevada plate, expired last March.

Police cited Hopkins at the crash site and released him. Officers later arrested him Thursday, Oct. 26, after friends came to the 8 News Now Investigators with questions about the crash. The 8 News Now Investigators then aired a report on Wednesday, Oct. 18. At that point, Hopkins was not facing any charges.

As part of a plea deal, Hopkins was eligible for probation, though he has a history of probation violations and convictions, Judge Mary Kay Holthus noted during Wednesday’s sentencing.

The 8 News Now Investigators found at least 19 traffic cases in multiple jurisdictions across Clark County where police cited or ticketed Hopkins dating back to 2010.

“You shouldn’t have been on the road,” Holthus said to Hopkins as she delivered a 28-to-72-month prison sentence. Holthus could have sentenced Hopkins to anywhere from a minimum of one year in prison or up to six years, with parole eligibility as part of the plea deal, documents said.

“I wish I would have stayed home that night, and we wouldn’t be here today, and Nathan would,” Hopkins told the Miller family as Holthus sentenced him.

Hopkins was driving 67 mph in the 35-mph zone at the time of the crash, documents said. Video the 8 News Now Investigators obtained showed the car suddenly jerked to the right and collided with Miller who was riding his bike close to the curb.

Hopkins was in the car with his wife and their child, police said.

“I too wonder what was going on in that car,” Holthus told Hopkins. “No wonder you killed someone.”

The crash report the 8 News Now Investigators obtained reveals an officer deemed Hopkins at fault for the crash, though “no enforcement action [was] taken.” The officer noted on the crash report that neither alcohol nor drugs were involved, however, there was no check box on the form for how the officer made that determination.

Though Miller was near death, fatal investigators did not respond to the crash to start their investigation in the soon-to-be fatal investigation.

Because the case is now adjudicated, the 8 News Now Investigators can file public records requests to gather more information.

“A strict sentence for the defendant has the potential to affect the thinking and actions of others,” Miller’s sister, Nicole Manning, said Wednesday.

Hopkins has 14 traffic cases in Las Vegas Justice Court. His earliest case, filed in September 2010, was on a charge of no insurance, records showed. Several of the 14 cases remained open as of Wednesday as Hopkins had not paid thousands of dollars in fines or had not yet appeared before a judge.

Hopkins also had traffic cases in Las Vegas Municipal Court, which handles such citations within Las Vegas city limits; Henderson Municipal Court and North Las Vegas Municipal Court, records showed.

“How many chances does the court keep giving at whose expense next time?” Miller’s mother, Michelle Dorotiak, said. “How many innocent lives will be torn apart or lost before the judicial system steps in and says, ‘No more?’”

In 2023, a new Nevada law decriminalized minor traffic offenses. The bill also abolished the practice of issuing warrants for failure to pay traffic fines or appear in court. Several open cases have no documented event other than the issuance of a citation.

With credit for jail time served, Hopkins will be eligible for parole in the summer of 2026.

Holthus is the same judge attacked in her courtroom last January.

[mezmer]

cyclist hate is so cringe. can you imagine hating somebody for riding a bike and following cyclist laws. if you see a cyclist with a nice road bike, cycling jersey, reflectors, expensive looking helmet, i promise they are probably following bike laws and have read them. i have to remind people all the time they're literally following the law lol. a crackhead with a bag of 40s on a children's BMX bike however, may or may not be following cyclist laws. i recommend any drivers go and read up on those for your state before you get pissed about somebody "riding in the road" cuz if there's no bike trail or lane that's where they ride lol

[thatoneguy031]

Yo, who wants to hear an MK8D headcannon?

Dry Bones doesn't enter the Mario Cup to win, but to be a showboat!

He enjoys pulling death-defying tricks on tracks with big jumps, such as pulling his head clean off his body like he was Eda from TOH while doing clean 360s and backflips. And, let's be honest, who doesn't love the classic ol' wheelie?

Tracks like Wario Stadium and Excitebike Arena are ones where he really gets to flip off the very concept of safety!

Dry Bones has tons of fans, and he loves them very dearly, being the humble skele-bro he is. He claims he does all of this for the sake of their entertainment, which many viewers of his content are pleased to hear.

His favorite kart setup is the Comet bike, Slim wheels, and Plane Glider. He knows that the speed and acceleration stats are absolutely abhorrent compared to other setups, but doesn't really care all that much about that. Besides, the handling and Mini-Turbos are nearly top-tier, which is something he almost always wants as a pro BMX rider. He also occasionally dabbles in using the Sport Bike and Off-Road wheels for the sake of looking good. Ironically, he does even better in races the worse bike he uses.

He once made a petition to add grind rails to tracks, but was declined by the Mario Cup organizers due to them not benefiting kart riders in any way. Ever since the disaster that was the Motion Movement of 2008, the organization has been trying their hardest to make sure that bikes and karts stayed on an even playing field. Heck, they even went as far as to remove bikes entirely during the start of the Subaquatic Revolution, resulting in our beloved skeleton's departure for a bit(He was very upset about the change). He returned during the Gravity Liberation, however, after some convincing from his younger cousin, Koopa.

Dry Bones spends his off-time practicing his bunnyhops and talking to Koopa, who is also very interested in BMX riding and has been wanting to join his relative on the track for a long time now.

Dry Bones's favorite item is the Super Horn(The sound is comforting to him, and he can always use it to amplify the hollow rattling of his head, signalling that his soul is revved up and ready to go), and his favorite track is Wario Stadium(for obvious reasons), and Toad's Harbor/Toad's Turnpike, although Bowser's Castle(Specifically from the Gravity Liberation) is a very close third place, due to his... sort of servitude to his Kind-Of Highness, Bowser.

Yeah, Dry Bones is a complete loose cannon. He serves who he wants, when he wants, how he wants. He won't ever act out of violence, but there are definitely times where Lord Bowser caught him just chatting it up with Yoshi, another superfan of his.

I'll add more headcannons about Mario Kart characters if this one gains some sort of traction(Hah), next one up being Dry Bones's popular-through-association cousin, Koopa!

*Image courtesy of @SkeletonsinVGs on Twitter.

[8bitbobby]

Co-op with Coop

On April 1st, I had a visit with the benefactor of my longest friendship Mark Cooper or “Coop” as I called him back in the day. It was April Fools, but this is not a prank and the only fool was me for not snapping a picture to mark the occasion.  Coop and I met sometime around 1979 on the neighborhood streets of what was then called Lakeview Heights.  Growing up in the late 70s and early 80s was one of those amazing times that, looking back on it, I feel so fortunate to have been a part of.  Our upbringing in those days has become solidified in modern pop culture by way of memes, pictures and stories from those who survived that time.  Depictions of kids jumping their BMX bikes over a rickety, hand-made ramp while 6 or 7 hapless friends lay prone beside the warped, plywood slope-- like decommissioned school busses in an Evil Knievel motorcycle stunt-- resonate with our generation on a deep level.  How about the memories of what water tasted like coming out of a garden hose and the reminder to let the water run for a good 30 seconds on a hot day or else you got a mouthful of 90 degree plastic hose-flavored H2O? Mark lived one street over from me in those days and the shenanigans we found ourselves in never ended. We honestly didn’t stop from sun up to sun down (except for the occasional dinner bell or call of nature).  All the kids in the neighborhood had each other’s phone numbers memorized back then there were no smartphone contact pages.  The prefix was all the same and Mark’s # and mine were only 14 numbers apart. His number ended in 5-7-1-1 and mine in 5-7-2-5 and it wasn’t uncommon in those days to know your best friend’s number better than your own. From street hockey matches with anyone that walked by and wanted to join mid-game, to playing tag and kick-the-can in each other’s yards, knocking the pickets out of our fences when we used them as make-shift soccer nets, to pranking unsuspecting families with nicky nicky nine doors and running onto the road and mooning oncoming cars -- there was never a lack of crazy things for a bunch of 6-10 year olds to do back in those days.  We would ride our bikes everywhere we could and usually that was to the local corner store, Grant’s Market, or a little further down the road to the laundromat or video store.  Westside Video Classics was THE place to rent all the latest movies and games back in the day.  

If it wasn’t movies or wrestling, Coop and I bonded over hockey cards (playing scramble,  knock-downs and closeys), making comedy tapes on our cassette recorders (we thought we were a regular Bob & Doug McKenzie duo) and later on playing video games.  At my house I introduced him to the two full-sized arcade machines my dad had bought from a co-worker and put in our rumpus room as he liked to call it:  Super Soccer and Wild Cycle and then later games like Raid on Isram and Cosmic Cruncher on the Commodore Vic-20.  

At his house we played endless rounds of Ring King and Super Mario Bros. 2 on his NES as well as countless hours of board games like Crokinole, Rummoli and Crossbows & Catapults. We had the definitive 80s childhood: trick-or-treating together in our shared neighborhood for years at Halloween time, sleepovers almost every other weekend, birthday parties and endless summer nights of hi-jinx.  We shared in common younger siblings that tried to do everything we did at that time and rivalries with our respective kin that gave us even more to relate to.  Sometime in the early 80s, Coop tattooed the drywall on his bedroom wall, in permanent marker no less, with the inscription:  Best Friend Bobby since 1980.  An homage to a friendship that, at that time, was a few years on but looking back now has been a friendship that has endured nearly 45 years.   To take a page out of his playbook, I mocked my 7up sign to display the following:

I am getting away from my story. All of this to say that Mark came by to meet the family and check out my game room, but became quickly overwhelmed with it all.  He was audibly giggling from the moment I greeted him at the front door to the moment we made our way down to the ‘Arcade’ and then back up to the kitchen to sit and catch up.  His energy was infectious and I knew that we would likely not be doing a lot of gaming on this visit but rather getting reacquainted and spinning shared experiences from those good old neighborhood days.  

Fast forward a week and we got together again and this time we ended up spending a good hour re-living some of those nostalgic times down @ 8bit Bobby’s.  Coop’s one pre-visit request was that he wanted to play some Raid on Isram.  To make this possible, I had to hunt through various backups to find my rom files for the Vic-20 and then figure out how to interface it with my current Hyperspin setup on my M.A.M.E. Arcade machine.  After some tweaking I managed to get it setup and somewhat playable.  The game itself is nothing earth shattering and is essentially a watered-down clone of the popular game Scramble, but, to a couple of 40 somethings reliving the times when they were likely in the 10 and under category, it was pretty neat to play again.  The object of the game is literally survival. You shoot a laser cannon and drop bombs on enemy ground-to-air missiles and fuel refineries. It starts out scrolling left to right in a pretty wide open playfield but as the game wears on the air-to-ground missiles begin taking off and you begin to enter narrow tunnels with what can only be described as flying spiders coming at you.  You can shoot off the stalactites that make the caves a tight squeeze but if you are too busy contending with them you are sure to get hit by the unpredictable and weird trajectory of these squiggle-like arachnid creatures.  Raid on Isram is a “one and done” game meaning you have one life to get as far as you can and then that’s it.  No extra lives, no continues, nothing. THIS was the epitome of gaming back in the days before infinite lives, cheat codes and save states were a thing.  

From here we moved on to some co-op games starting with Golden Axe.  We got swiftly through the first two stages cracking heads and laying the boots to the little magic-stealing gnomes that appear between checkpoints only to have the game freeze without warning.  I have played through several of these games and never had this happen before. It was a definite headscratcher but we were undeterred.  We continued our co-operative game play with the Midway classic, Rampage.  Just like back in the old days when we used to stomp around the neighborhood, we joined forces to destroy buildings, smash tanks and defeat digitized army men as George and Ralph the giant, Kong-like Ape and Wolfman respectively.  We played through 19 “days” or cities and after each one we wondered how long the game went on for.  After a quick Wikipedia search it would appear that the game has 128 days that, when completed, repeat 5 more times. It was good to know that this was a game we were not likely to finish in one sitting. Maybe a future stream event or something?  Pictured below are our two protagonists: Coop & Bobby and in true fashion I am showing my age and lack of tech savviness by being unsure as to where I am supposed to be looking at the camera. I suppose a goofy picture is better than no picture at all.

This game room of mine and friends like Coop remind me how much of a role nostalgia plays in my life.  The way certain sights or sounds can just transport a person back in time.  I know we are not the same kids who hid in the willow trees on the neighbor’s property, cut through a field and hopped a fence into each others’ backyards with the ease and agility of an Olympic vaulter, and had water balloon fights while eating home-made popsicles to beat the summer heat, but for the hour or so that we connected tonight, we were transported back to a much simpler time. I leave you with the meme pasted below (which came up in conversation during his visit and I think really hits in the gut). Even though we can’t go back to that moment and give it the recognition and closure it deserved we can at least reminisce about what it was like just hanging out and teaming up against whatever was out there.  Co-op with Coop 4 EVA.  

[waynethuna1]

Bike Handlebar: Let's Explore Its Types

The bicycle handlebars have seen major modifications throughout the years. Comfort and efficiency can be greatly affected by shape, angle and basic qualities. In this post, we'll talk about a variety of bike handlebars, where they're most popular and why they take the shape that they do.

Riser bar

The most popular and basic kind of bicycle handlebars are riser bars, often known as upright bars.

Their unique feature is a bar that dips in the centre and rises at the ends, elevating the rider's hands over the seat. The brake levers are positioned where the fingers naturally rest, whereas the gear levers are where the thumbs operate.

These are the handlebars you'll find on most hybrid bikes and bikes used by commuters in the city. Although the flat bar form of bikehub MTB handlebars has been gaining popularity as of late, riser bars are still available.

Drop bar

Drop bars are the most popular alternative to flat bars.

The rider is set up aerodynamically to minimise drag and maximise speed. Therefore, they are often only seen on racing bikes, such as road, gravel and cyclocross models. In addition, many touring bikes include drop bars, which allow the rider to use a variety of hand positions.

Flat bar (Straight bar)

Common on mountain bikes, hybrids and fixies, flat bars are the simplest kind of straight handlebars.

Some fixie bikes don't have brake or gear levers, but most have grips on both ends with levers at your fingers.

Moustache (Cruiser)

The Moustache bar is a particular kind of cruiser handlebar that encourages a more upright riding position and a more relaxed pace.

It's the kind of handlebar you'd find on the kind of low, relaxed bike you'd see roaming the boardwalks of every major city in the globe.

The handlebar is 'moustache-like' in appearance, with the ends curved back to place the rider's hands at a relaxed 45-degree angle. This kind of handlebar is only seen on leisurely cruiser motorcycles because, although pleasant, it compromises control at higher speeds.

High rise (Monkey bar)

A high-rise handlebar, often known as a "monkey bar" or "ape hanger," positions the rider's hands in a dangling posture far above the ground.

Bicycles with ape hanger handlebars are common on BMX models and stylish cruiser bikes, which gained popularity due to vintage Harley Davidson motorcycles.

The huge U-shaped body is the most striking feature of its design, with the handles protruding from the sides. Single-speed bikes often have just one front brake lever and no gear changers because of the rear coaster brake.

Similarly, there is a bicycle wheel. You can find it in a wide variety of styles. Order your bike today!

[connorcrenshaw1]

Is Mountain Biking Difficult For Beginners?

Mountain riding is an excellent method to get a total-body workout. It also offers a sense of adventure and enjoyment.

Mountain biking's strenuous demands encourage your brain to release natural endorphins, which increase your mood and make you feel good. This happiness also helps you relax and deal with life's difficulties.

Getting into mountain biking entails more than just selecting a bike. You'll need a variety of equipment to stay safe and comfortable when riding. We've compiled a list of essentials to get you started in this fun sport.

Many newcomers are daunted by a mountain bike's rugged terrain and knobby tires. Start with a simple path fit for your ability level to make the transition as easy as possible. As your skills improve, you can always graduate to more challenging trails.

Remember to wear appropriate safety equipment, such as a helmet and knee pads. It is also critical to be prepared for your rides by bringing water, food, and other requirements. Nobody likes to be stopped on the side of a path with a flat tire or a mechanical problem. Fortunately, the majority of falls result in minor injuries such as grazes and bruised egos.

There is a wide range of mountain bike equipment available. Beginners can get started with almost nothing more than a helmet and a bike that moves and stops. Most powerful brands provide mountain bikes for about $100 that will keep you safe from branches and cactus spines until you move to more tricky trails.

A suspension fork on a mountain bike helps take the sting out of rocky terrain. More extended travel for additional cushioning is sometimes seen in pricier models.

Gloves, a hydration bag, and bike tools are also essential in case of mechanical problems. A mountain bike can also be outfitted with various sorts of lights for nighttime riding.

Other types of mountain riding exist, ranging from 'freeride' to BMX-style jumping. Freeride is a 'do anything' sport that includes downhill racing without a timer, jumps, and stunts. "Slopestyle" is a more technical discipline that takes place at lift-serviced bike parks and includes elevated bridges, half pipes, and wooden ladders.

Mountain riding, like many other outdoor activities, carries some danger. Injury risks, however, can be lowered with the proper safety procedures.

You are choosing trails that are appropriate for your skill level. When you come to a piece of course that you believe is beyond your skill level, listen to logic (rather than your friends who want to push their limits) and get off your bike and walk it. There is no shame in being accountable for your own and others' safety.

Riding off-road requires more balance and coordination than road riding, particularly when navigating jumps and rough terrains. As you gain confidence in the activity, you can graduate to increasingly difficult trial elements. Furthermore, practicing your balance will help you avoid accidents both on and off the bike. Crashing on a mountain bike is inevitable, but how you choose to crack can have a significant impact on the consequences.

It's essential for beginner mountain bikers to realize that the sport requires a different mindset than road cycling. Road riders typically try to avoid obstacles at all costs, but on a mountain bike, those same obstacles are what make the sport fun! Beginners should start on beginner-friendly trails to help them develop a comfort level with technical terrain and learn that their bikes are built to go over, rather than around, these obstacles.

It's also essential for beginners to learn that proper riding technique is a huge part of success on the trail. For example, when entering a corner, mountain bikers should be in a standing position with their feet on level pedals to ensure that they are ready for anything the trail throws at them. It's also helpful to look through, rather than at, the obstacle in front of you (again, unlike road riding) to determine how best to navigate it. This is called "bike-body separation." It's essential for good riding technique and safety.

[jeffambrose]

Hard to believe but I’ve been chasing Zac on two wheels for 30 years now. Literally thousands of miles together from BMX bikes in 1994 to some of the most amazing trails and roads I’ve experienced last week in Knoxville. With the rides fewer and farther between these days the shared miles carry more weight.

[bikerboo]

Since I was young, I’m really into bikes, maybe because my grandfather was a mechanic and I've always seen how to fix a car, a bike, a motor, and other transportation. I once act like I'm their assistant, pretending that I'm helping, then pretending that I'm also fixing the bicycle, and they were very happy with me until they make me my own bike so I can play with something that was really mine, and then that's where my journey started.

When I was in grade 1 I always bike around our village, of course, I had a parent with me because I might crash, and my cousin was in a motorbike and he always invite me to race with him, of course, I was very happy because I was chasing him with my bike, until I was in grade 5 I'm 10 yrs. old, I have made friends because of biking. I remember back then when I was 10 years old when I rode a bike on the highway for the first time, that was the scariest thing I've done, I was scolded because it’s so dangerous outside, with those 10-wheeler trucks, those high-speed motor and me I’m just a child with only just a BMX bike crossing the road without breaks and helmet, and that was the day my grandfather decided to buy me a bike with breaks and shifter, but then that day was the best day for me.

That was the journey I had experienced before I’d been this kind of biker. Now I travel around 100km away from home, and life was quite different from before, the number of people I met increased, and with the help of online platforms, this gave me opportunities to share my rides around the world, and with this, I hope I can take you on every trip I go on and join me through every hardship, joy, fear, and sadness that I will encounter while biking, and hoping one day I can travel the whole world with you all.

FOLLOW YOUR DREAM.

[edisonkate]

Rab Wardell honored with Scottish Cycling's highest award posthumously

The late Scottish mountain biker Rab Wardell was awarded Scottish Cycling's Badge of Honour at an event last week.

The cyclist, who died in August aged 37, was recognized at the body's AGM last week; the nomination noted: “his legacy is already huge and has all the requirements for consideration for the honor".

Wardell won the elite men’s title at the Scottish MTB XC Championships in Dumfries and Galloway in August, before he died in his sleep just days later, after he was believed to suffer a cardiac arrest.

His partner and double Olympic track cycling champion Katie Archibald were at home with the 37-year-old when he died.

“I think you’ve heard that Rab died yesterday morning,” Archibald wrote on social media at the time. “I still don't understand what's happened; if this is real; why he'd be taken now - so healthy and happy.

"He went into cardiac arrest while we were lying in bed. I tried and tried, and the paramedics arrived within minutes, but his heart stopped and they couldn't bring him back. Mine stopped with it."

Scottish Cycling said that "after one of the longest standing ovations" they could remember, Wardell's father, Jack, provided an "emotional acceptance speech", which "recalled the impact Rab had, and continues to have, on our community".

A spokesperson said: "Rab was a friend of many, no matter your discipline or role in our sport. 'Bikes are gid' he would say.

"An elite mountain biker who had just turned professional, Rab was a gifted cyclist no matter the bike he was riding, be that road, track, BMX, or cyclocross.

"Rab was also a coach, a former Scottish Cycling member of staff, and an advisor to the 2023 UCI Cycling World Championships. He was a son, a brother, a partner, a friend, and an all-around good guy, who just loved cycling and everything it offered to so many people, from all walks of life.

"Mostly recently, his incredible long-distance challenges and social media presence promoted mountain biking and cycling in Scotland, his positivity infectious."

Glasgow-based Wardell had been racing mountain bikes since his teenage years, although only turned professional earlier this year.

In 2020 the rider completed the West Highland Way(opens in new tab) in a new record time,  finishing the 96-mile course on 9-14-32. His win at Kirroughtree Forest(opens in new tab), the weekend before his death, was described by Scottish Cycling at the time as a “show of incredible resilience”.

The other recipient of Scottish Cycling's Badge of Honor at their AGM was Rita Montgomery, a 91-year-old who "championed women’s cycling in Scotland long before it was popular or given parity".

[dangerouslyclosetothesurface]

Saturday

I am basically a weekend warrior now. Oh well.

It's Thanksgiving weekend! Nate and I biked to Livermore via 84 and through Pleasanton today. Niles Canyon Road is not that fun to ride because the shoulder is very narrow and it is also a main artery for cars to cut through the mountains.

Some notes:

Flat. I actually hate flats because it is a lot of pressure to maintain a clippy speed, and there are no excuses to "rest," and I am very lazy. I am very slow on flats. My avg RPM is very bad. However I will admit that this route is a very good training route for me to be less of a slacker.

Shoulder is so damn narrow and there are a lot of those bumps along the edge of the road that make cars alert, but some were hidden by the white boundary line and we accidentally rode over some and scared ourselves.

We saw a LOT of roadkill. It was quite sad. There was a dead snake (this made me cry because I couldn't tell that it was dead at first so I backtracked to try and shoo it off the road but when we saw it up close it was dead and its face was very dead in a tragic way), a dead squirrel, a dead raccoon, a dead fox, and more dead things that were beyond recognition.

We also found a BMX park! It was cool. I was very afraid of riding in dirt, but turns out that my 40mm tires do their jobs and it was fine and not scary at all. I did a loop around the beginner course. Other people (adults and children) were doing the more advanced courses and actually getting some air. It was cool!

On the way back we left Livermore a little late after walking around and learning about the local history at the museum and exploring and eating, so we were worried we wouldn't have daylight to bike home, so we were really gunning it. I had a slight buzz from my 1 beer (lol), so I was very amped up initially (plus I had to pee).

We've been watching a LOT of Yowamushi Pedal. My entire mental process is that show. Particularly the scenes where people are already gassed but they just find more in their legs and shoot forward and magically catch up. Although I think I can only do that because Nate was slowing down to wait for me. Or because the grade started to decrease.

Our return trip averaged 18mph over 22ish miles so I am very pleased. Thank you Wahoo Elemnt for helping me keep a reasonable pace and motivating me to move my legs a little more each time I started lagging.

Going up the final small incline on Mission (238) toward Decoto, I honestly felt like I was gonna burst or throw up if I continued in that fashion. I think I was moving above 20 and just. Man. Could mentally keep going but physically the body was in warning mode. It felt GREAT to get to that point because usually it's the opposite. Usually I'm mentally weak and the body is fine. So I was thrilled to finally be pushing myself.

Anyway here's a Strava, courtesy of Wahoo Elemnt: There and back

[michellesmusing]

Chapter 1 - A Stranger in the night

Alek’s smartphone vibrated through his pocket as he was having lunch at the small Asian restaurant in his neighborhood. He had been expecting a job this weekend and here it was.

He pulled out his smartphone and read his message text coming from his boss.

The description of the individual was a young woman in her early 20’s named Beatrix with short blonde hair. Alek didn’t need anything else… He had the address and her description, all he needed was to finish eating his lunch and he would go back to his place to take a shower and get ready for his next assignment. But before going to his place, he told himself that he would check the surroundings of the location of his next job.

He couldn’t deny that he was a bit nervous concerning his next job. He had the habit of kidnapping men, but rarely women… And certainly not a young woman like Beatrix. He guessed that someone didn’t pay back his boss and that this woman was somehow the only way to get his hands back on his money. He wasn’t nervous because he wasn’t used at kidnapping people, but because she was obviously a young and vulnerable woman…

Alek ended his lunch and drove by the location of his next job. There was only one car in the driveway… He decided to park his SUV across the street to study a bit of the surroundings. It did look like a nice neighborhood with big houses and brand new cars filling up the driveways. He could tell that it was a rich neighborhood… After 10 minutes of prying on the house he’d visit tonight, Alek turned back the engine of the vehicle and was on his departure when a small short blonde haired woman riding a bike caught his attention. Without a doubt, it was her…

She headed toward the driveway with her red BMX bike. She then stopped as if she was trying to catch back her breath and she was seen walking in the direction of the backyard with her bike. She then came back a minute later without the bike, and she was seen entering the house by the main entrance in a rush..

Now, it couldn’t get easier than this! He had seen her! He would come back later tonight near 9 PM to evaluate everything. He doubted Beatrix was alone in this big house… Perhaps she had brothers, sisters and of course parents. If that was the case, he’d need to neutralize them first.

He’d make sure to pack all the items he’d need for tonight… Something he was used to as Alek wasn’t at his first kidnapping and for some reason, he had a feeling this one would be an easy task. He finally left the street and returned home to take a shower and dressed in dark clothes, so he wouldn’t attract the attention of the people from the neighborhood…

He, of course, wasn't going to use his SUV for kidnapping Beatrix, as usual, his boss had prepared a new van for him that would be available at the warehouse that was located at the outskirts of the city. Just as he was about to leave his place, a new message from his boss popped up on his iPhone.

The message was as simple as this “The Road is Clear” meaning that Beatrix was by herself. Her parents weren’t home. He wasn’t aware if she had brothers and sisters, but it didn’t matter at this point as the young woman was alone. It was going to be a walk in the park for Alek…

Alek drove to the warehouse and traded his SUV for the Ford Van supplied by his boss. The back of the van had a soft black foam floor and smelled like this distinctive scent found in brand new vehicles. Alek transferred a satchel bag filled with items he’d use to abduct the young woman… From Duct tape, ropes, but most importantly, he had several syringes filled with  sedatives. He couldn’t just kidnap Beatrix like this, not that it would be hard to restrain her. He had seen her, and she wasn’t really tall and didn’t weigh more than 120 pounds.

He’d wait for the young woman to go to bed and it’s at this moment that he would take action…

It was 10:37 PM when Alek parked the Van across the street. He had a good view on Beatrix’s house. All the lights in the house were turned off, aside from the flickering light coming from the TV in the living room downstairs. He needed to get in the house before she’d go to bed and turned the alarm system on…Obviously, a house like this had an alarm system and if Alek was breaking into the house with the system on, it would lead to failure as Beatrix would wake up and the risk of having the cops showing to her place was something Alek didn’t need.

Breaking into the house by the Kitchen’s back door proved to be way too easy. As if these people really believed their door locks were high security, when in reality, it was made with cheap materials… But again, no doors were resisting Alek.

He stood tall in the dimmed lit kitchen and he could hear Beatrix in tears over the phone.

“He said that I was too young for him… I loved him! I don’t care that he is my teacher!!”

Alek didn’t move at all, he kept himself still in the kitchen, prying on Beatrix who was obviously heartbroken with her college teacher. For some reason, the conversation amused him…

“I swear!! He said that he was in love with me as well, but that he couldn’t keep on seeing me as he was married and that it was risky! Of course, he was just waiting to get in my pants!!!!! If my parents hear about this, I’m a dead meat!” 

The young woman was indeed frustrated that her teacher had only used her for sex… If Beatrix thought it was her biggest problem, she wasn’t ready for what’s coming ahead. Getting fucked by her teacher was going to be least of her worries.

“I have to go… I really haven't felt good since this morning. I think I caught something. My lungs are on fire and my inhaler is almost empty!” 

He had no idea who Beatrix was talking to, perhaps a friend, certainly not her parents. He could tell by the tone of her voice and language used that she was speaking to someone close, someone of her age. He was listening to her with rapt attention. As she stated that her inhaler was almost empty, he guessed she was asthmatic… That would explain while she was struggling to breathe when he saw her this afternoon when she came back from her bike ride.

One thing is sure, if she was escaping him, she wouldn’t run for long due to her medical condition. That was a plus, thought Alek.

The young woman ended the call with her friend and he heard her walking in the hall of the house. She had entered her bathroom, taking breaths with the inhaler while sobbing. He pushed his tongue against the inside of his cheek, wondering when she’d go to bed… If she wasn’t soon Alek would need to act rapidly and sedate her while awake.

He kept himself hidden near the entrance of the kitchen, where Alek had a good view of Beatrix as she was sitting on the large couch of the living room. She was so small, that only the top of her blonde hair was showing up from where Alek stood… At least her cries had stopped and she was watching the TV.

It did seem that it was a TV show about a bunch of people traveling back in time in order to catch a bad guy named Flynn, at least this is what he heard as Beatrix kept watching the TV show. Just when he thought that Beatrix had decided to go to bed, the young woman went upstairs but came back a few moments later with her pillow and a blanket that she threw on the couch. She was obviously going to sleep on the couch from what he could tell. He didn’t know why, perhaps she didn’t like to sleep upstairs when alone.

Alek glanced down at his watch as 45 minutes had passed since he had broken into her house. The top of her head wasn’t visible as the young woman had lay down on her couch. He didn’t know if she was sleeping, but he’d soon as Alek carefully crept into the living room…

There she was, looking as cute as a button as her eyes were closed and that she had fallen asleep deeply. Her deep breaths confirmed Alek that she had already left for dreamland… She was holding onto her blanket, blissfully ignoring that she was about to get abducted.

[powerdrivebikes]

The Unique Charm of Zebra Bikes: A Deep Dive into an Iconic Design

In the world of bicycles, few designs capture attention and imagination quite like the zebra bike. With its distinctive black-and-white striped pattern reminiscent of the majestic African zebra, this bicycle style stands out as a symbol of individuality, creativity, and a unique sense of style. In this article, we'll take a closer look at the zebra bike, exploring its history, design elements, popularity, and the cultural impact it has had on cycling enthusiasts worldwide.

A Brief History of Zebra Bikes

The origins of the zebra bike can be traced back to the early days of bicycle customization and personalization. As cycling gained popularity in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, riders began to modify their bikes to reflect their personalities and preferences. This led to the emergence of custom paint jobs, unique accessories, and creative designs, including the iconic zebra pattern.

The first zebra bikes were likely hand-painted by enthusiastic cyclists who wanted to make a bold statement on the road. The striking contrast between the black and white stripes immediately caught the eye, turning these bikes into instant conversation starters. Over time, as the cycling culture evolved and artistic expression became more prominent, the zebra bike design gained traction and became synonymous with creativity and individuality in the cycling community.

Design Elements of Zebra Bikes

The hallmark of a zebra bike is its distinctive striped pattern, which mimics the natural markings of a zebra. These stripes are typically painted or applied to the frame of the bicycle, creating a visually striking appearance that sets the bike apart from traditional designs. The stripes can vary in width, angle, and orientation, allowing for endless customization options and artistic interpretations.

In addition to the striped pattern, zebra bikes often feature complementary elements that enhance their unique aesthetic. This may include colored accents, custom decals, matching accessories such as saddlebags or grips, and creative embellishments that add a touch of personality to the overall design. Some zebra bikes even incorporate LED lights, reflective materials, or other innovative features for added visibility and style.

While the zebra pattern is most commonly associated with traditional bicycles, it has also made its way into other cycling genres, including mountain bikes, BMX bikes, and even electric bikes. This versatility speaks to the enduring appeal of the zebra design and its ability to resonate with cyclists of all ages and backgrounds.

Popularity and Cultural Impact

Over the years, zebra bikes have garnered a dedicated following among cycling enthusiasts and collectors worldwide. The unique combination of eye-catching aesthetics, artistic expression, and individuality has contributed to the enduring popularity of these bikes. Cyclists who ride zebra bikes often describe them as conversation starters, attention-grabbers, and sources of joy and inspiration on their journeys.

Beyond their appeal to individual riders, zebra bikes have also made an impact on cycling culture as a whole. They are frequently featured in cycling events, parades, and exhibitions, where they showcase the creativity and passion of their owners. In recent years, social media platforms have further amplified the visibility of zebra bikes, with enthusiasts sharing photos, videos, and stories about their customized rides.

The cultural significance of zebra bikes extends beyond the cycling community, as these distinctive designs have also influenced fashion, art, and design trends. The bold contrast of black and white stripes has appeared in clothing, accessories, home decor, and even automotive design, reflecting the timeless appeal and universal recognition of the zebra pattern.

Owning and Riding a Zebra Bike

For cyclists who are drawn to the unique charm of zebra bikes, owning and riding one can be a rewarding experience. Beyond the aesthetic appeal, zebra bikes offer practical benefits such as increased visibility on the road, especially during low-light conditions. The bold stripes make the bike stand out from the surroundings, enhancing safety and awareness for both the rider and other road users.

Riding a zebra bike is also a form of self-expression and creativity. It allows cyclists to showcase their personality, style, and passion for cycling in a fun and memorable way. Whether cruising through city streets, exploring scenic trails, or participating in group rides, zebra bike riders often receive positive reactions and compliments from fellow cyclists and pedestrians alike.

Maintaining a zebra bike involves regular care and attention to preserve its vibrant appearance and performance. This includes cleaning the frame and components, checking for wear and tear, lubricating moving parts, and ensuring proper tire inflation and brake function. Many zebra bike owners take pride in maintaining their bikes in top condition, adding custom touches and upgrades over time to enhance their riding experience.

Conclusion: Embracing the Spirit of Individuality

In conclusion, zebra bikes represent more than just a unique design—they embody the spirit of individuality, creativity, and self-expression in the world of cycling. From their humble origins as hand-painted creations to their current status as iconic symbols of style and personality, zebra bikes continue to captivate and inspire cyclists of all ages and backgrounds.

Whether you're a seasoned rider looking for a new adventure or a budding enthusiast eager to make a statement on two wheels, the allure of the zebra bike beckons. It invites you to embrace your creativity, unleash your imagination, and enjoy the ride with a touch of whimsy and flair. So, saddle up, pedal forth, and let your zebra bike take you on a journey of discovery, joy, and endless possibilities.