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#honda's dad is right
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Evening the Score, page 385
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And so I decided to be shamelessly self indulgent for once and thus a cuddle pile was born
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There's no one sleeping uncuddled in this housesold, not even the varghest 😌
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horangare · 1 year
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omggg please do a part 2 to the dilf jeonghan fic
tis the season
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pairing : dilf!jeonghan x college student!reader
content : smut (mdni u already know)
in which : it’s time for christmas break, and iseul is asking you to buy some time with her father so she can finish her last minute shopping. you’ve been meaning to spend some one on one time with her dad, and now you finally can
warnings : age gap (late 40’s jeonghan, early 20’s reader), daddy kink (i’m sorry but it’s also like barely there), pet names (princess, baby, good girl, slut, whore, sir), dom & sub dynamics, dumbification, teasing (dirty talk, degradation, praise), mentions of multiple orgasms, fingering, finger sucking, lingerie kink (kinda? i think?), u two want each other so bad, iseul (yeah she’s a warning in this one lol), hannie’s kinda mean but u like it
wc : 3.3K words
note : i was wondering how long it would be before someone requested this. srry it took so long omg i had no idea what i wanted to do w this i literally had like 3 diff ideas
part 1
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By now, the Yoon household had become like a second home to you.
Even though it was just Iseul, Jeonghan, and that big maze of a house, it didn’t ever feel like anything was missing. Since Iseul brought you over the first time, things hardly ever changed. You’d still slept in Iseul’s room whenever you slept over (until Jeonghan made one of the guest rooms into a room for you, then the two of you both started having your sleepovers there), you still took a wrong turn trying to find the bathroom and ended up in the kitchen or the laundry room, and you still ended up bent over on a new surface somewhere in the house while Jeonghan had his way with you.
It was a comfortable routine. One you were upset would have to abandon for the next three weeks to drag yourself back to your dull little hometown to spend time with your family and a handful of other relatives who’s names you couldn’t remember even if you tried.
“You know you could just come stay with us,” Iseul said offhandedly one day when you mentioned how much you were dreading on returning home. The suggestion hadn’t held that much meaning when Iseul gave it, she already knew just how much you enjoyed coming over, but in that moment she had become your saving grace.
“Really? You mean it?” The girl just nodded, jumping in surprise when you pulled her into a hug and spun her around. “What would I do without you, Iseul?”
“Wow, it’s that bad, huh?” She laughed, patting you on the shoulder once you had placed her back on the ground.
“Oh please, you have no idea.”
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You rode in Iseul’s car for the first time the next day. When she asked how you were planning to get there and you mentioned the countless number of times you’ve Ubered back and forth to her house, she nearly started crying and promised to drive you anywhere you wanted from now on. “Do you know how much money that adds up to? No more Ubers!”
So now here you were, in the passengers seat of Iseul’s white Honda Accord, gripping onto the handle above the door as Iseul sped down the roads with the most stoic look on her face you think you’ve ever seen. The Ubers may have been expensive, but at least they were safe. It confused you a little; you had ridden in the car with Jeonghan at the wheel before and never had an experience like this. Clearly Iseul hadn’t inherited those skills from him, but right now you were wishing she had.
“Are you alright?” She looked over at you when the car finally came to a stop at a red light. You nodded, one of your hands flat against your chest as you felt your heart threatening to beat right out of your ribcage. Iseul smiled, either ignoring the panic you were trying to hide or not picking up on it at all as she sped off as soon as the light had turned green. “We’re gonna take a shortcut, there’s way too much traffic right now and—shit!” The car lurched to a halt, both you and Iseul’s bodies jerking forward with the sheer force of the stop. “Oops, I almost hit the curb.”
You really needed your own car.
After spending the next eight minutes in Iseul’s death trap car, you pretty much threw yourself out of the seat when you saw that she was pulling into the garage to the side of the house. You considered kissing the ground, but you didn’t. Your sister was a worse driver.
“Dad, we’re home,” Iseul shouted into the warm interior of the house. There was no immediate verbal response from Jeonghan, he just snaked his way through the hallways of the space with a mug in his hands and a smile on his face.
“Hi, Seulie,” He hummed, letting his eyes wander over to you. “Hello, [Y/n].”
“Hi, Mr. Yoon.”
“How was the drive? Was there a lot of traffic?” Jeonghan had already started retreating back to the living room, you and Iseul followed, seating yourselves next to each other on the couch.
“It was fine. The traffic wasn’t so bad, everyone’s probably going to the airport.” Iseul hummed. She turned her head in your direction. “Dad’s happy you’re staying over. He pretends like he’s calm about it, but he giggled when I called him and told him earlier.”
Your body flushed with heat at your friend’s casual comment, your eyes flitting over to Jeonghan, who was staring down into his mug. The two of you haven’t gotten to spend much time together for a while since you were usually coming over to spend time with Iseul lately. He missed you.
“We’ll have the next three weeks to spend together, sir.” You smiled, finally getting him to look back at you. One of his eyebrows quirked upwards—he was expecting to keep that promise, but he wouldn’t say it. He would just expect you to act on it.
And you would.
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You hadn’t acted on it.
A week into staying with Iseul and Jeonghan, you had spent almost every waking moment of your time with your friend. Baking cookies, decorating the house, watching Christmas movies, going ice skating for the first time in your life (and having Iseul laugh at you until she cried when you ate shit on the ice over and over again), and a plethora of other festive events. You had been having such a good time with her, the promise you made to Jeonghan had let itself slip from your mind. The most the two of you could do was kiss for a few seconds before Iseul came popping up from around a corner or shouting your name to the house in hopes of a response. She was his daughter, and you were her friend, but he was losing his patience. All he wanted was some time to have you all to himself.
Maybe today he would finally get the chance.
Monday morning greeted you with a six am phone call from Iseul, which you answered, your mind and voice still riddled with sleep. “Hello?”
“So sorry to call you so early, but I am totally gonna make it up to you.”
“Iseul, what—”
“Look, I have to finish shopping for presents. I don’t know when I’ll be done, there’s kind of a lot on my list,” She explained, and you thought she was joking. It was just her, you, and Jeonghan. How long could the list possibly be? “Anyway, I just wanted to let you know where I was. Something else…oh! Maybe spend some time with dad while I’m away. He gets lonely, y’know. Okay, that’s all, bye!” Iseul hung up the phone before you could even process everything she had said, leaving you staring at the device in your hand dumbfounded.
“Okay.” You sighed, dragging yourself out of bed and to the bathroom (the one connected to your new room, because you were sick and tired of almost pissing yourself because you walked into the study instead) to freshen up.
Finally, you thought. Finally you’d have private time to spend, just you and Jeonghan. The time you spend with Iseul was precious to you, obviously, the girl was your best friend. But if you said the reason you had wanted to come over was just to avoid your family and bond with Iseul, you’d have been lying. You smiled to yourself, wondering what the two of you would do, and you squeezed your thighs together if it would be anything like you had come to finish your midterm project.
You jumped at the sound of the door opening and peeked your head out of the bathroom, your body relaxing when you saw Jeonghan standing in the doorway, his hands behind his back. You sighed with relief, bending over slightly to spit out the toothpaste in your mouth and wiping your mouth.
“Do you and Iseul always wake up so early?” You asked him as he got closer. He shook his head.
“It’s usually just me that’s up at this time.” He mumbled. “Where is she, anyway?”
“Last minute shopping.” You said, finally turning your body to face his. His hands were still behind his back, and Jeonghan smirked when you tried to peek at what he was hiding. “What is that?”
“What, this?” He shrugged. “Oh nothing. Just something I picked up one day. It’s supposed to be your present, but I guess it wouldn’t hurt to give it to you now, hm?”
You gasped, your heart swelling with the knowledge that Jeonghan had gone out and gotten something for you. Both of his eyebrows shot up at the excitement creeping onto your face and he quickly turned away from you.
“Or maybe I should just wait until Christmas. You wouldn’t mind, would you? I’m sure the presents Seulie got for you will be better than this.” Still smirking, Jeonghan started to walk away but stopped in place when you pulled on his arm.
“No! I’m sorry sir, really am.” You pouted, reaching to try and take the present from Jeonghan, but he easily held it just out of your reach. “Iseul will be gone for a while. It’s…just the two of us.”
Jeonghan groaned at that. He loved his daughter, but he’d gone too long without getting to have you all to himself. Turning back around, Jeonghan placed the gift in your hands. “Alright, princess. Just one condition before you open this.”
“Anything for you, sir.” You but your lip in anticipation, eagerly awaiting the response he would give you. Jeonghan leaned down, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.
“You have to do anything I say, got that?” You exhaled shakily, but you still nodded, and Jeonghan cupped your face, swiping his thumb along your bottom lip.
“Good girl,” he murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. He tasted good, sweet, like hot chocolate. That’s probably what he’s been drinking in that mug everyday. When he pulled away, you whined, much to Jeonghan’s delight. “I’m not going anywhere. Go on, open your present.”
You smiled, giving your full attention to the neatly wrapped box in your hands, gently untying the silver ribbon holding it together and lifting the top of the box up. You gasped. Lingerie. Jeonghan got you lingerie. “S-sir, I…”
“Put it on for me. Right here.”
Stunned into silence by his abrupt request, your clothing was thrown to the ground with haste. Jeonghan watched you the entire time from his seat on the edge of your bed, drinking in the way you would fidget and avoid making eye contact with him. Yeah, you were a little nervous. He’s never asked you to strip for him, usually he would just rip off your clothes to avoid wasting any time. He really seemed to be enjoying the fact that Iseul was away.
“It’s pretty, sir.” You whispered, tracing your fingers over the delicate lace now adorning your skin. It was white with pale pink detailing, and the bra piece had mesh slips that went all the way around your upper body. The bottom piece was a thong with a slit at the crotch. Oh, and one more tiny little detail. It was almost entirely see through. “Did you have to get something with one of these…holes?”
Jeonghan nodded, pulling you into his lap, your back flush against his chest. “Makes things easier,” he said, trailing his fingers up your inner thigh. You exhaled shakily at the feeling of them circling around your wet hole. “Already so wet for me, aren’t you?” You nodded, unable to stop the moan that spilled from your lips when he pushed one of them inside you.
There was nothing Jeonghan wanted more than to fuck you senseless right now. He’d been holding himself back for a week. Just the sounds of your moans and the way he had to hold you down just to get you to stop squirming had his cock straining against his pants. The only reason he bothered with foreplay was so you’d take him without a fuss (and because he liked it when you begged him not to stop).
Your head fell back onto Jeonghan’s shoulder at the addition of a second finger, your eyes screwed shut and your mouth hanging open while you panted and whined. “F-Feels s’ good, sir. Missed this so much. Missed you so much.”
“Missed you too, baby,” Jeonghan mumbled, curling his fingers up inside of you to hit that spot that had your head spinning. You’re shaking and sweating and you can’t think straight, the feeling of Jeonghan’s fingers caressing your insides forces any other thoughts out of your head. Just when you think you can’t handle anything else, Jeonghan suddenly pinches your swollen clit, the sensation making you tighten around his fingers as you scream. “Liked that, didn’t you?” He repeated the action, the corners of his lips tilting upwards when your body reacted the same way once again.
“Mmm, yeah, liked it so much, sir. Gonna c-cum, can I?” You forced your eyes open to look at him, the pleasing look on your face doing nothing but making him harder. If he didn’t need to fuck you so bad, he would’ve said no. Seeing as this wasn’t the case, Jeonghan nodded, despite wanting this to last just a little longer.
“Yeah, princess. Go ahead and cum for me.”
His permission was all you needed before you allowed yourself to fall apart on his fingers. You cry out his name over and over until you’re left breathless. Jeonghan continues to finger you until your high has passed, and once it has, he pulls his fingers out and holds them up to your mouth. “Open,” he says, and you allow your lips to part enough for him to stick them into your mouth.
The taste of yourself on your own tongue and the action itself has you groaning, and you close your lips around his fingers, sucking off every last drop of your release.
“Good girl, sucking my fingers like the whore you are. I almost forgot how much of a slut you are,” This time, Jeonghan groans at your actions, pulling his fingers away. When you finally opened your eyes again, he was already naked. Oh, naked Jeonghan, one of your favorite sights, by far. Leaning forward, you ghosted your hands over the base of his cock, which had the older man moaning. “Fuck, baby, so desperate for my cock aren’t you? Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”
You fell backwards onto the bed and gazed up into Jeonghan’s eyes, holding onto his arms tightly as the tip of his cock slipped into your aching pussy. It had been long—too long—that you had gone without the satisfying feeling of Jeonghan stretching you apart and filling you to the brim, you almost forgot how good it felt. Jeonghan felt the same, he had long craved the warmth of your insides, how wet you’d get for him so easily, how you so easily obeyed his every order.
He didn’t bother to start off slow, not when he had been waiting so long to finally have you like this. His pace was rough and unforgiving, each thrust seemed deeper than the last, but still you loved every second of it.
You wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting his to be as close to you as he could possibly be. “Ah! Yes, right there, sir!” You cried, out as his cock abused your sweet spot, your eyes rolling back into your head.
“Feels so good, doesn’t it, princess? You like it when I fuck you like this? Hm? When I use this tight, cute little pussy of yours?”
You nodded, the words you had planned to say dying at the back of your throat and being replaced by sounds that were a combination of grunts and moans. With one of his hands, Jeonghan held onto your face, trying to get you to look at him. Your eyes were glassy and unfocused with lust, and Jeonghan grinned at your fucked-out state.
“Oh baby, if only you could see yourself,” He groaned. “So fucking pretty, you can’t even use your words. All you can do is moan like the little cockslut you are, isn’t that right?” Just like he had done before, Jeonghan’s fingers pinched your clit, once again making you cry out with pleasure.
You tried to speak—to warn him of your imminent orgasm, but all you could squeak out were a chorus of high-pitched whines as the man above you pushed you closer to your release. He seemed to get the hint though, with the way your hole clenched around his cock, making it harder for him to move.
“Gonna cum, princess?” You squeaked again. “Aw, I know, baby. Poor sweet thing, can’t even tell me yourself. You don’t need to ask me, since I’m sure you would’ve cum anyway. But go ahead, cum.” His tone was so mean and condescending, and that was exactly that tone that made you cum for a second time.
Not even a moment after you had cum, Jeonghan was following you over the edge, pushing his cum deeper into your pulsating core all while your spent body shuddered beneath him. He shushed you, stroking your hair to get you to become calm and quiet once more before snapping his hips forward again.
“S-sir! I’m still…” Jeonghan shushed you again, never letting up with the fast pace he had set earlier on. His hips snapped against yours, the sound of skin against skin being one of the only sounds in the room aside from your pornographic moans and the occasional groans or rare grunt from Jeonghan. You were so out of it, you couldn’t even stop the words that came flying out of your mouth. “D-Daddy, please…”
You don’t think you’ve ever heard Jeonghan moan so loud.
“It’s alright baby, Daddy’s got you.”
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The two of you continued for what felt like hours. Several different positions, a dozen more orgasms, one very long bath, and a two-hour long nap later, you could finally feel your body again. You blinked, looking around the room when Jeonghan opened the door.
“You’re awake,” his smile was gentle. “Do you need anything?”
You shook your head. “No, that’s alright, thank you.”
Jeonghan made his way to the bed and knelt down in front of you. “I didn’t hurt you, did I, baby?” The concern was written all over his face, the idea of you being in any sort of pain or discomfort would absolutely break his heart. Now you were the one smiling.
“No, never. If that were the case I would’ve told you, sir,” you tucked a strand of his hair behind his ear, letting your hand linger on the side of his face. “I think I’m in love with you.” You confessed quietly, almost as if you were afraid to admit it.
“You’re really gonna act all shy after everything we’ve done today?” He teased you, resting his head on your thighs. “Don’t worry, princess. I love you too.”
Don’t worry princess, I love you too.
You could’ve died right then. Jeonghan’s cheek on your thigh, his breath tickling your skin, reciprocating his love for you. Nothing could be better. Just you, Jeonghan, and—
“Hellooooo? [Y/n]? Dad? I’m home.”
Iseul.
“Iseullllll!” You shouted. Jeonghan pulled himself away despite his reluctance to part from you and stood himself up right as Iseul walked into the room.
She gasped. “Dad? You’re here too? Did I miss something?”
“Nothing at all, Seulie.” Jeonghan assured his daughter, his hand on her back as he walked her out of the room. “Did you find everything you were looking for? Nothing happened to the car, right?”
“I drive fine, what do you mean? You’re mean, you know that? [Y/n] never complains about my driving.”
He spared you one last glance, and your heart skipped a beat. It was just like the last time. Except this time, you loved Jeonghan, and he loved you back.
And that was the only thing you could ever want for Christmas.
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GRADUATION GIFT
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Pairing - Lenny Miller x fem!reader
Summary - You despise your mother and are awaiting the day you can finally be free from her. However, she’s met her so called soulmate who can’t seem to take his eyes off of you.
Warnings - noncon, implying of drugging, brief infidelity, p in v, parental issues, spanking, daddy kink, breeding kink.
Word count - 2k+
Notes - On a roll right now. Definitely wrote this during the course of 6 alcoholic beverages so I apologise.
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The Honda Civic rolled up your driveway, you breathed out, your head swayed gently, bloodstream full of alcohol. There was no other way to celebrate graduating high school than by getting plastered at a house party. Despite your intoxicated state, you couldn’t help but to dread the sight of your home. You should have left early with your friends and crashed at theirs.
Only a couple of more months. Until you’re free from your egocentric, victimizing, alcoholic mother. The woman you despise, the creature that drove your father away from your life. You hated her more than everything. She had cheated on your dad for years and when he finally broke she blamed him for everything. 
He fell in love with another and got her pregnant. Your father chose them over you and your overbearing mother. The sad reality was that you couldn’t blame him. But you’ll never understand why he didn’t take you with him. 
You stumbled inside, not really caring if your ruckus woke anyone up. A fresh bottle of water was pulled from the fridge as you sculled down as much as your stomach would allow you. As you walked back into the hallway, your direction pointed to the staircase, you heard a clear of the throat. 
When your eyes landed on him, you lightly gasped. He sat on the cream chesterfield armchair, his legs spread wide open. Minus the jacket, he was still in his suit from yesterday. It was past two in the morning, why the fuck was your so-called step-dad awake? Those blue orbs stared your exposed skin up and down as his hand combed through his wavy brunette hair. You tugged down at your mini dress to cover yourself, but it was pointless. 
Behind his charm, Lenny was creepy. You had picked up on that instantly by the way he stared at you when you accidentally opened the door for him. It was their first date and your mother had plenty of those. However, he couldn’t seem to take his eyes off of you, even when your mother rushed to the door. 
When your mother announced they were going on a second date, you were surprised. Now those, she didn’t have many of. The shocked expression that plastered your face was unhideable when she announced that they were officially together. She even had the audacity to tell you to call him dad. Because he would like that. 
You fell victim to his lingering eyes during all of your brief encounters. There weren't enough excuses to get out of the house whenever he was over. Lenny spoke to you confidently and condescendingly. To which he didn’t fail to drop a carnal comment in each conversation which went unnoticed by your mother if she was in attendance. 
You felt like your mother, making it all about yourself. But you wouldn’t dare to say anything, what else would it be besides you trying to pray horrible things upon her. They were perfect for each other, they were both fucked and the sooner you were out the better.
“Lenny, you’re up late” you shuddered, standing awkwardly as his hawk eyes stalked you. 
There was a glass of whiskey in his hand as he swayed the liquid carelessly. You focused your sight on the glass, waiting for it to spill onto the carpet. 
“You had upset your mother extremely” he said, his tone dripping of disappointment. 
The moment in discussion was earlier yesterday during your graduation ceremony. She didn’t even want to be in attendance. But Lenny convinced her otherwise to go, with him accompanying her to the event, she was already a few mimosas in despite it being a midday ceremony. Afterwards, she didn’t suggest, she ordered that you’d go out for a family dinner to celebrate. 
When you stated that you had other plans, it ended up being a cat fight on the ride home between you and your mother. You didn’t notice Lenny’s knuckles turn white around the steering wheel as he stayed quiet between your shouting match. 
“Well, it’s my life” you shrugged your shoulders at him. 
Who did he think he was anyways? You didn’t give a fuck that he was a retired CIA agent. If anything, he should fucking arrest your mum for being a failure in life. 
Lenny didn’t take his eyes off of you as he finished his drink. He breathed in, dramatically raising his chest as he stood up. Your throat tightened as he stepped towards you, you stepped back just as quick.  
“Well” he mocked your tone. “You know what I think?” He asked, his jaw clenched. 
“What?” you squeaked as he placed the tumbler on the coffee table and headed straight towards you. 
Your body pressed back into the plaster wall as he trapped you in with both forearms resting on the wall right next to either side of your face. He breathed deeply as he considered his choice of words. 
“I think your father failed at discipling you as a child. Left you to be nothing more than a fucking brat leeching off of her mother’s funds” he hissed, his lower body flexed up against yours. 
Your eyes widened at his words, the fire inside of you was brewing however you couldn’t help but to be intensely frightened by this new, menacing side of him. There were little options that would end up in your benefit. “Mum!” you panicked, sure she was a drunk but her self-importance would never fucking allow this. 
Lenny pouted to you sarcastically as you stood frozen, his lips slowly crept to your ear. “Oh, your mother was a crying mess. I had to give her something to help her sleep, she was so overwhelmed. I promised her I’d wait up for you, to make sure you got home safe. Even told her I’d try to talk some sense into you. But between me and you? Sometimes talking doesn’t work, other methods have to be used” he ended up whispering, slowly, suspensefully, seductively. 
Your hands shot up to his chest as you tried to push him away. “What the fuck are you going on about” you whimpered pathetically, desperately trying to push him away but he wouldn’t budge. 
Lenny looked you dead in the eye. “Daddy needs to teach his baby girl a lesson” he stated with a confident nod. 
“Mum!” you shrieked, your voice cracking in the process. You were freaking the hell out by this point as his hands moved down to grip onto your hips. 
“It’s pointless, she’ll be out all night. But don’t let that stop you from screaming” he grinned as he yanked you away from the wall by your hips. 
The first instinct was to run, but Lenny reacted quickly, his hand wrapped around your hair as he yanked you towards the chesterfield armchair. You sobbed out as he post-hasted you over his knee with him sitting comfortably on the seat. 
“You’re such a bad girl. I noticed that the moment I saw you” he brought to light, this wicked smirk on his lips as he pulled up your dress, exposing your bare ass. His fingers traced over your cheap thong as you were whining against him, your body squirming around like a worm. “However, your mother outta be more thankful of you” he voiced, which caused your eyebrows to scrunch. “I never intended on a second date until I saw you” his confession caused you to sob heavily. 
It was true, your mother was just going to be a easy fuck. But when he saw you, he knew that he had to have you. From there, his obsession only grew larger by each encounter. You didn’t know how badly he wanted you, needed you. Your bratty behavior only urged his primal needs harder. Your parents failed to control you, only he would be able to put you back in order. 
“Lenny- Please!” you squealed out as he harshly smacked your rear. 
“Correct my title” he ordered through a snarl.
“Daddy please!” You cried out, completely humiliated as you laid limply over his knee. 
“Good girl” he praised as he smacked you again. 
Over and over again he spanked you, you’d squirm here and there as you tried to take it like a good girl. Mentally, you were begging for it to be over and done with. The sooner it was done, the quicker you’d be able to pack up and run for the hills. 
“I’ve wanted to teach you your place for so long” he groaned, his cock twitching at the redness of your cheeks. You sobbed silently as he admired you. “You know” he spoke softly as his hand gently caressed your burning skin. “Your mother told me how you always blamed her. But in reality, if your father wanted to take you with him, he would have. But clearly you were as much of a burden to him as your mother was” Lenny asserted emotionlessly. He knew nothing.  
You thrashed your body underneath his hold. Lenny laughed as you were blubbering out, desperately trying to break free. He forcefully spanked you again to put your distraught movements to a stop. 
“Don’t worry, daddy wants to take care of you” he promised you condescendingly as he pulled your body up onto his.  
Your arms wrapped around his neck as you shuddered. The tent in his pants pressed up against your covered core and your skin trembled. Lenny kissed your flustered cheek, and then the other. The way he was praising your beauty made you feel sick to your stomach. Your stomach turned when you felt his body shift underneath you as his hands undid his belt. 
“I’ve seen the way you look at me, you want this” he groaned as he stroked his hard length, the tip poking at your hidden pussy. 
You mewled in response, there was no point in arguing with this barbarian. His fingers pushed your thong to the side to allow his tip to rest at your entrance. The irony was how dripping your cunt was despite how terrified you were. 
As his thick cock slowly slid inside of your canal, he grunted at the sensation of you. You whined against his size as you pressed your face into the fabric of the chair. Roughly, Lenny picked up his pace, his fingertips dug deep into the flesh of your thighs. 
“So, you wanna run off to college huh? Leave your mother’s home childless?” Lenny gritted his teeth. 
“Yes daddy” you confessed shamefully. 
Lenny grinned at your easy submission. His hands felt up your skin that he had so desperately wanted. You were moaning around his size, your eyes squeezed shut to hide how they were rolling back. 
“You know, I never gave you your graduation present” Lenny smiled innocently. You didn’t know how to take it. “Oh how it would be a shame if her whore of a daughter got herself pregnant” he grunted, roughly holding your hips in place. The realization flashed before your eyes as you tried to push yourself off of him, but he kept you locked up on top of him. 
“Daddy, no! Please!” You begged, crying like a baby on top of him as he continued to pound his length deep inside of you. 
“Yep, a shame it would be. She’d have to stay home. Depend on her new daddy to look after her” he concluded the thought that would soon become your reality. 
“Daddy please no, no, no” you continued, but it was all pointless. Lenny had already made up his mind long ago. Lenny gripped onto your cheeks and forced you to look at him. 
“Yeah. Gonna fill you up, trap you with my child. Couldn’t fuck a baby into your mother even if I wanted to. You’re at the perfect age for breeding. Got the perfect body and what not. It won’t be hard to convince your mum that you’re just a fucking slut like she is” Lenny smiled to you, his sinsiter expression made him look like a complete different man.  “Don’t worry, she won’t stay in the picture for much longer” he consoled, continuing to smack his balls against your outer skin as you felt your orgasm build up rapidly.  
But she was the least of your concerns now.
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moamidzyism · 7 months
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the seven stages of you and i (c.sb)
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ʚ♡⃛ɞ when you first met soobin, you knew he was going to play a lead role in your life. you were going to make sure of it. you just didn't know what to expect. or: the story of a boy, a girl, and the turbulence that fills the space between them.
☆。.:*·゚wc 14444 angst + smut ౨ৎ minors DNI ˚⁺。˚ // repost ୨୧ soobin x fem!reader, best friends to lovers, childhood friends to lovers to ???, first time. featuring beomgyu, taehyun, kai from txt, yuna from itzy, and arin from oh my girl [masterlist • reblogs + feedback appreciated]
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you can vividly remember the first time you ever saw soobin.
it was the summer before third grade started.
it had been an unbearably hot summer and with the school year looming just a month away, you were dreading going back to school and trying so hard to not think about having to meet your new teacher and make new friends.
so to take you mind off the soul crushing pressures of elementary school, you begged your mom to let you go to the park. she refused, claiming she had to work, but the two of you made a compromise and you settled for riding your bike around the cul-de-sac where she could still see you from the dining room table.
you had been riding for thirty minutes, quickly growing tired of the rays of the sun beating down on your skin. you were about to call it a day, but that’s when you saw it.
the gray honda civic driving past you, the sun reflecting on the hood of the car. the woman in the front seat, slowly waking up from her slumber. her husband tapping her shoulder excitedly, looking at his new home in awe.
and him.
the young boy staring out the window with wide eyes as the car pulled into the driveway of the house beside yours.
you darted inside to tell your mom you had new neighbors.
at dinner time, she took you over with some food. “hello, we live right next door.” she introduced herself to the woman that opened the door. “i just thought you guys could use a warm meal with moving and everything.” behind her legs, you could see the little boy peeking at you.
she invited you in and you remember the way their house looked so devoid of life. what was supposed to be the living room was a sea of boxes. your mother sat beside his mother on the old brown leather couch that sat in the back of the room.
you caught soobin’s gaze, watching you taking in the sight of his new home. he looked away when he noticed you looking at him. you moved to sit beside him on the floor.
“i saw you,” he said when he registered your presence beside him.
“what?” you were slightly taken aback.
“outside.” he clarified. “you were on your bike.”
“oh,” you muttered. “my name is y/n.” you reached out to shake his hand. he looked at you, a bit puzzled, yet mirrored the gesture, his grip gentle and feeble.
“i’m soobin.”
“how old are you?”
“i’m almost 10.” he answered, glancing down at his hands.
“why did you move here?”
“my dad got a job.”
“do you want to ride bikes tomorrow?”
“i don’t know how.” soobin looked at you, uncertainty flickering in his eyes, his shy demeanor even more pronounced.
“i can teach you.” you offered.
and the next morning, at 11 sharp, soobin showed up in front of your house ready to learn. after that afternoon, you decided that you liked him and he was going to be your best friend. he didn’t talk much but he always listened to you, with a goofy smile plastered on his face. when he did talk, he answered all your questions thoughtfully. and most importantly, even after he fell down multiple times, he still showed up at your house the next day, waiting to learn.
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by the time you got to middle school, everyone knew that you were two peas in a pod. from the day you met, everywhere you went, soobin wasn’t far behind, following you like a lost puppy. you always carpooled together; you always ate lunch together; you were even in all the same clubs.
and so when eighth grade began, you two were separated for the first time in five years and it was so hard for you to adjust to not seeing him every second of every day.
the first morning of the school year, you stopped yourself from asking your mom where soobin was when he wasn’t at your car waiting for you. you wandered through the halls to your regular lunch table a little surprised and mostly disappointed when you didn’t see him sitting with an extra cookie he always got from the lunch lady. after school, you sat awkwardly, alone, on the bench outside of the school building waiting for your mom to pick you up.
when you got home, you didn’t even bother going up to your room. you threw your backpack on the couch and made a beeline for his house. you flopped onto his bed with a sigh as soon as you got to his room, the softness of the mattress cradling you. he didn’t look up from where he sat at his desk doing his homework, but he acknowledged your arrival with a quiet hello. 
“how was your first day of high school?” you asked, emphasizing the last part of your question.
“it was okay.” he scribbled something in his book.
“just okay?” you pressed.
“it was kind of weird.” he turned his chair around and finally looked up at you.
“did you miss me?”
“yeah, a little,” he confessed. a soft warmth bloomed in your chest, and you couldn’t help but smile to yourself.
“i think i might try out for the football team,” he blurted out of nowhere. “or maybe basketball? i don’t know yet.” you bursted out in laughter.
“did i say something funny?”
“you have no athletic bone in your body.” you countered, still chuckling.
“we don’t know that.”
“oh, we do,”
he moved to join you on the bed, books in hand, and you watched him with a fondness that didn’t need words as he made himself comfortable.
“i always tell you not to wear your outside clothes on my bed.” he jokingly admonished.
“do you like your school?”
“i mean, it’s only my first day. but it was okay.”
you paused, both to process what he just said and to figure out how to word what you really wanted to say. “i don’t want you to forget about me or stop hanging out with me or whatever.”
“you’re literally going to the same school next year.” he teased you.
“i know, but still.”
“you’re a hard person to forget about, y/n.”
“you’re just saying that,” you felt the blood rush up to your cheeks, and subsequently rushed to hide your face in his sheets.
“no, i mean, you literally wouldn’t let me forget about you.” he laughed and in response, you threw a pillow at him.
but in the back of your mind, you knew he was right – you couldn’t let him forget about you. and as the days rolled on, you made it a point to go over to his house for hours after school. at least for the first month and a half of the smeester. that was until the demands of school grew and he started having to stay after school for clubs and going over to people’s houses for projects. by the time the holidays rolled around, your moments together were reduced to the seconds you saw him in the mornings when you were both leaving for school. and for the most part, it stayed like that going into the summer.
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the summer after eighth grade, you saw soobin a total of three times.
the first time you saw him was on memorial day. your dad, not exactly the biggest fan of your plan to stay home the entire summer, pushed you out of the house to go to his family’s barbecue. you went to soobin’s house with a tray of cookies (because you never go to someone’s house empty handed, your mom told you beforehand). he greeted you with a casual wave before disappearing upstairs to play video games with his friends. you lingered around his house for ten minutes, until you felt completely uncomfortable by yourself, when you slipped away back to your room, cocooning yourself in your bed, tears tracing paths down your cheeks, soaking into your sheets beneath you.
the second time was sometime right after the fourth of july. his dad was taking him on a fishing trip and you just so happened to be getting the mail as they were leaving. you tried to pretend not to see him, eyes fixed on the ground, your heart pounding. and you thought it worked. but later that day, a message lit up your phone screen – soobin confessing that he missed you. you deliberated for two hours before typing out a guarded response: “me too.” two weeks stretched out like an eternity before his next message came.
the third time was actually the day before your first day of high school when he came over to your house under orders from his mother. he stood at your bedroom door, a mixture of apprehension and determination etched across his face.
when you opened the door, all the feelings of abandonment came flooding through your mind – every time you cried thinking about how he was ignoring you, every time your parents had to force you to get out of the house and breathe in fresh air, everything came at once.
“what are you doing here?” you spat at him. your words were a shield, sharp and defensive.
“my mom said i should come check on you.” he responded, his hand absently massaging the back of his neck. you yielded, allowing him to enter the room, but he hesitated, lingering by the door, too afraid to sit down.
“are you nervous about high school?” he ventured.
you met his gaze, scanning his eyes for sincerity. “not really.”
“i’m sorry,” he admitted, his voice heavy with regret. “i’ve been pretty shitty to you this year.”
“yeah, you have been pretty shitty.”
“i meant it when i said i missed you.”
“i know.”
“are we good?”
he didn’t really apologize, you understood that. but sometimes, especially in that moment, it seems easier to forgive him than confront him about how horrible he made you feel. and so you concede, not realizing that you’re setting the precedent for you guys to saunter in and out of each other's lives as you please. “yeah, we are.”
you invite him to sit on the bed with you and he joins you.
“so, what is high school really like?” you ask, trying to clear the air of tension that lingered.
“well, it’s nothing like high school musical,” he began.
and although you were apprehensive about forgiving him so quickly, you couldn’t deny how good this felt. sitting here with him, not thinking about the future or the past. just being here talking about nothing and everything at the same time. if you could, you would have captured this moment and put it in a snow globe to look at everyday.
the next morning, you stood at the threshold of the school building, soobin towering beside you. as you walked into the school together, you couldn’t help but notice the subtle shift in the atmosphere. soobin seemed to be a lot more popular than he led on and he navigated the halls with a confidence that belied his usually reserved nature. students and teachers alike greeted him as you walked through the halls.
“okay, mr. superstar,” you teased.
“well, i am class president.” he tells you shyly.
“why didn’t i know this?” you wondered aloud. he offered you a nonchalant shrug but continued guiding you through the labyrinth of corridors that made up the school. 
as you approached your classroom, the reality of where you were dawned on you. you turned to soobin, seeking reassurance from him. “i’ll see you at lunch?”
“yeah,” he affirmed.
with a final smile, you slipped into the classroom, taking a seat beside a girl who was looking at you with wide eyes.
“you know soobin?” she blurted out when you sat down.
your brows furrowed in confusion. “yeah?” you answered, taken aback.
“how?”
“uh, he’s my friend.” you explained, scanning the room for an empty seat.
a spark of hope lit up her eyes. “can you introduce me to him?”
you hesitated, your discomfort growing with each passing second. “i don’t even know you.”
a wave of awkwardness washed over the both of you. without waiting for a response, you quickly gathered your things, seeking refuge in a different seat on the other side of the classroom. what the hell was that? you thought to yourself as the other students filed into the class.
save for that strange moment in the first period, the rest of your classes went by completely unremarkable until lunch time rolled around. you arrived at the cafeteria fifteen minutes after lunch started. you were trying to navigate the way between hundreds of bodies in the hallway and found yourself in a completely different wing of the school. why does a high school have to be this big? you asked yourself when you collided with a girl.
“are you okay?” you asked her.
“yeah, i’m just trying to find the cafeteria.” her response came with a note of relief.
“me too. i’m y/n.”
“i’m yuna and this school is way too big.” she remarked, a trace of exasperation lacing her words.
“yeah, i got a tour this morning and i’m still confused.”
should we ask someone for help?” yuna suggested.
“yeah,” together you venture into a nearby classroom to ask a teacher for help.
meanwhile, in the cafeteria, soobin took advantage of your little detour to offer a preemptive warning to his friends about how to act around the freshman girl that was going to be eating lunch with them.
“i’m serious, you guys, don’t be weird.”
“when have we ever been weird?” beomgyu asked, but his playful tone is punctuated by a stray fry launched by kai, which found its target on taehyun’s head.
soobin gave beomgyu a knowing look.
“we won’t be weird, okay?” his friend reassured him. “what’s with the girl anyways?”
“she’s my best friend and i don’t want you guys to scare her.”
you finally make it to the cafeteria with yuna by your side. soobin introduced you to his friends, and you briefly remember them from memorial day. as the lunch period dragged on, you sat quietly, observing soobin in his element. you never felt this way before, but watching the way he interacted with his friends made him a little more attractive in your eyes. there was a magnetism in his confidence and you couldn’t help but entertain thoughts that had never crossed your mind before.
and from them, you found yourself yearning for those stolen glances, fingers brushing in passing and shared laughter that lingered just a little longer than usual.
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being best friends with someone older than you had its perks, especially when that person was as smart as soobin. you were pretty good at biology freshman year, and chemistry was okay too. but no one warned you that knowing the powerhouse of the cell or all the symbols of the periodic table was enough to equip you for an honors physics class.
even though you stayed up for three nights in a row, you didn’t expect to do so bad on the unit test. it was embarrassingly bad. like bringing the class average down bad. like being handed back a folded test bad. you opened your test packet hesitantly, only to quickly close it again upon seeing the harsh, red “36/100” glaring back at you. the room seemed to close in around you, the disappointment heavy in the air.
after class, you went to meet your teacher. “are you sure there’s no way i could get some extra credit or something?” you asked, your voice carrying a mix of desperation and determination.
“y/n,” he said, his tone firm. “if i give you extra credit, i have to give everyone extra credit,” he advised. “if you want a better grade, i suggest you study harder.”
“fucking asshole,” you mutter under your breath as you left the classroom. the slam of the door echoed down the empty hallway.
yuna, who was waiting for you outside your class, scowled when she saw your demeanor. “what’s wrong?”
“he’s such an asshole.”
“what did he do this time?”
you handed her your test and slung your backpack onto your shoulder in frustration. her face scrunched up when she saw the red ink that scattered the page. she reached out to gently caress your hair in a soothing gesture. “oh, honey…”
“and he wouldn’t let me do extra credit.”
“didn’t your boyfriend take this class last year?” yuna asked, trying to find a solution.
“boyfriend?” you replied. you knew where she was going with this, but you wanted to see if she would actually say it. but you knew she was never one to back down. “soobin?” she asks.
“not my boyfriend.” you remind her in a singsong voice, causing her to roll her eyes.
“well, i’m pretty sure he took this class last year. just ask him to tutor you.”
you hum, pulling out your phone to text him.
to soob: i hate to ask you this but i really need your help
from soob: you know i’m always gonna help you what do you need
to soob: one quiz away from failing physics can my bestest friend in the whole entire world help me
from soob: you know you don’t need to butter me up but i’ll take it
to soob: you know i love you so much right? can you come over tonight?
that evening, you meticulously laid out your physics notes and textbook on the kitchen island. you were stressing a lot, and in an attempt to calm your racing thoughts, you decided to bake. the sounds of the mixer and the clinking of the measuring cups was always something that soothed your anxious thoughts.
as the timer chimed, you pulled the tray of cookies out from the oven. just as you set them on the cooling rack, the doorbell rang, sending a jolt of nervous anticipation back through you.
you open the door to soobin.
“thank you again for doing this,” you said as you welcomed him inside. you guided him to the island. “i made cookies, so please feel free to take some.”
his eyes brightened with surprise. “you made cookies? i didn’t know you could bake.”
“i started in middle school,” you confessed, a hint of vulnerability crept into your voice. “my therapist said it was a good way to process my emotions. i don’t know.”
“you’re in therapy?”
“yeah, since middle school.”
“oh.”
the atmosphere in the kitchen shifted. you both settle into your seats. the tutoring session began, but despite your best efforts, you found it hard to focus. the equations and diagrams that soobin so easily drew out seemed to blur together and your mind drifted elsewhere. the only thing you could concentrate on was soobin’s long, veiny hands as they gracefully navigated the pages of the physics textbook in front of you.
“should we take a break?” his voice pulled you out of your thoughts.
you blinked, realizing that you had been staring at the same problem for a little too long. “i’m sorry. long day.”
“no, don’t apologize,” soobin reassured you. “it’s getting late anyways. we can always try again tomorrow.”
the next few tutoring sessions followed a similar pattern, but today you managed to gather yourself and focus, determined not to get lost in the small smile that graced soobin’s face whenever you correctly answered a question.
“you know what you’re doing?”
“what?”
“you know what you’re doing. just don’t overthink it.” he was referring to the problem set in front of you.
“oh, yeah,” you replied, your hand moving swiftly across the paper. in your mind, even if you got the question wrong, he would patiently explain it to you. this way, you wouldn’t be trapped in your head, thinking about how close he was to you, close enough to pick up hints of his shampoo, or how pretty his eyes looked with the kitchen lights dancing in them, or how soft his hands felt as they brushed against yours when he took the paper from you.
to your surprise, you managed to avoid any embarrassment for the rest of the session.
“when’s your next test?”
“in two weeks, i think,”
“we can meet a couple of nights a week until then,” he suggested.
as time passed, you found it easier to concentrate, the initial nervousness giving away to a growing confidence. you had to admit. soobin was a good tutor and with each passing day, you felt the weight of the test lessen, until the day of the test.
from soob: test day! how are you feeling?
to soob: i think i’m going to throw up
from soob: please don’t you’re going to do great you know i’m always rooting for you!!
you walked into the classroom with your chin held high, determined to “fake it till you make it” your way into a passing grade, but you spent the rest of the week after that a bundle of restlessness and anticipation.
finally, the day you dreaded the most arrived. the door swung open, and your teacher strode in, a stack of papers clutched in his hand. you held your breath, fingers crossed under the desk as he made his way down the rows, inching closer and closer.
“good job,” he smiled at you when he handed you your test.
after class, you practically sprinted to soobin’s locker, eager to share the news.
“check me out! i’m a nerd like you,” you exclaimed, thrusting the test paper towards him.
“har har,” he let out an amused snort, rolling his eyes. “i knew you could do it. maybe next time we can shoot for a 100?”
“i think we should focus on maintaining this 80%,” you chuckled. “i think this calls for a celebration. can you come over tonight?”
that evening, you and soobin set out to tackle the challenge of baking brownies. he was good at a lot of things but admittedly was very useless in the kitchen.
“it’s fine.” you reassured him, “i can teach you.”
“you’re always teaching me things,” he noted, his ears burning as he looked down at the mixing bowl.
“what are you talking about? i’m literally now passing physics because of you.
“not school things,” he explains. “i mean like practical life things. you taught me how to ride a bike; you taught me how to make friends––”
“i taught you how to make friends?”
“yes, you did. being friends with you just made me outgoing, i guess.”
“hmm.”
“anyways, you’re teaching me how to bake, although i think this might be a lost cause,” he quipped, eyeing the ingredients skeptically.
“just crack those eggs,” you instructed.
while you dealt with other things, soobin stood expertly mixing the batter. “can i taste it?” you asked, holding up a spoon.
“wait, this is so good,” you marveled at your own recipe.
soobin’s gaze met yours, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. he edged closer to you. “you have something…” he said softly, swiping your chin with his thumb, then tasting the chocolate batter from his finger.
“oh, uh, th-thanks,” you stammered, turning toward the sink to hide the elated grin that threatened to give you away. inside, you were almost bursting at the seams.
“so, cookies are for nerves, brownies are for celebration?” soobin asked, as you two settled onto the plush couch.
“and cakes are for when i’m sad,” you quipped, fingers deftly flicking the remote to life. “what do you want to watch?”
“i don’t care. whatever you want.”
wrapped in the cocoon of the soft blanket, you both sank into the cushions, the movie’s glow flickering across your faces.
as the credits rolled on the screen, you and soobin sat up, still close, but the proximity was charged with an unspoken confession.
“did you like the movie?” you asked, attempting to dispel the atmosphere.
“we’ve seen it like a million times,”
“yeah, but still.” you press and he just shrugs.
after a pregnant pause, he finally broke the stillness. “i feel like i need to tell you something.”
your heart quickened, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within. “yeah?”
“i, uh,” his voice wavered for a moment. “i like you,” he admitted, his words stumbling out in a rush, eyes fixed on a point somewhere in the middle distance.
“what?”
“i like you,” he repeated, softer and steadier this time. soobin’s heart raced, his pulse thrumming in his ears as he awaited your response. you, on the other hand, were filled with surprise and something else, you couldn’t even decipher. your breath caught. it was like the air had grown heavier, charged with unspoken desires and uncharted territory.
“oh.” you managed to let out. “that’s… oh.”
his gaze flickered back to his hands, usually so steady, that laid, slightly trembling in his lap. “it’s fine if you don’t feel the same. i’ve just been dealing with these feelings for a while and i just needed to tell you.”
“soobin, it’s—”
“you don’t have to say anything; i get it.” he interjected, “just forget about this. i value our friendship a lot more, so i don’t want things to be awkward between us.”
“soobin!” you exclaimed your voice firm and determined. “i like you too, but we… we can’t do this.”
“why not?”
“well, for starters, you’re graduating in the spring.”
“and i’m probably going to school, like what? two hours away?”
“i don’t want you to feel like you’re missing out on your college experience by being with me or whatever.”
“y/n, you’re literally my best friend.”
“precisely why we shouldn’t risk it,” you insisted. “i cherish our friendship, and i don't want to jeopardize it.”
“i promise you there’s absolutely nothing that could ever make us not be friends.”
“i don’t… i don’t know.”
“sleep on it, okay?” he conceded, rising from the couch. “i should probably go home.”
you escorted him to the door, the gravity of the moment still lingering. “see you tomorrow?” he asked, framed in the doorway. the threshold seemed both a physical and emotional boundary, like a bridge between the familiar present and the uncertain future of your relationship.
“yeah.”
he leaned forward, a gentle breath of warmth preceding the tender press of his lips against your cheek. “goodnight, y/n,” he murmured before fading into the night. 
your fingers lightly brushed your cheek, still tingling from where his lips had been. the sensation was still tingling, like a spark of electricity had been left behind. climbing the stairs you couldn’t help but grin from ear to ear. you felt like you were floating as you made your way to your room, crashing on your bed, kicking your feet thinking about the fact that he likes you.
the next day, you decided to skip lunch in the cafeteria. “please can you tell me why we’re eating lunch in the library today?” yuna asks, tossing her backpack onto a beanbag in the corner of the library where you settled.
“something happened last night.”
“did you and soobin finally kiss?” she asked, a sly grin creeping onto her face. you look up at her, trying to suppress your smile.
“well, not really.”
“not really? what happened?”
“he told me he liked me.”
yuna let out an excited squeal, earning disapproving glances from the other students.
“and he kissed my cheek.”
“shut up!” she was practically bouncing in her seat, unable to maintain her excitement.
“yeah, you should shut up.” some guy at a nearby table griped, annoyed by the disruption.
she rolled her eyes, returning her attention to you. “anyways, i’m so happy for you.”
“don’t get your hopes up.”
“oh, no.”
“yuna, he’s graduating soon.”
“okay? i don’t see what the problem is. you’ve had a crush on him forever and he was the one who said it first.”
“i just don’t want to do a long distance thing.”
“he lives right beside you.”
“and he’s moving away in seven months.”
“he’s moving to a different town, not a different country.”
“hey, you guys are making a lot of noise,” the library assistant reprimanded, approaching your table. “and you know you’re not allowed to eat in here.” she referred to yuna’s food.
“sorry,” you apologized, your voice meek.
she walked away, leaving you both to your conversation.
“yeah, ‘cause my carrots are going to crumb all over the books,” yuna quipped, but she complied, tucking away her lunch.
“i just don’t want to lose my best friend.”
with a multitude of thoughts swirling around your head, you knew you needed to talk to soobin. after school, you made your way to his house. as you walked to his bedroom, each step was weighed down by the uncertainty and anticipation that filled your heart.
the soft knock on soobin’s door pulled him from his thoughts. he swung the door open to find you standing there.
“hey,” you greeted, your voice above a whisper.
“hey,” he stepped back, allowing you in. his heart raced, a mix of hope and fear coursing through him.
you walked into his room taking in the decor. it hadn’t changed much from middle school. his walls were adorned with a mix of posters. a bookshelf stood against one of the walls, filled with a well-organized collection of novels, textbooks, and mementos. his desk, which sat by the window, was decorated with photos of the two of you from elementary school that you surprisingly hadn’t seen before. looking at them gave you the motivation to have the say everything that you wanted to say.
he gestured to his bed. you settled into your usual spots, the silence stretching, punctuated only by the soft sounds of the clock. soobin couldn’t help but steal glances at you, the room charged with tension.
“so, we should talk about last night.” you took a deep breath. he turned to face you, his gaze steady, waiting for your words. “i’ve been thinking a lot,” you continued. “and i do want to give this, us, a try.”
a smile broke across his face and you couldn’t help but melt. “you have no idea how happy that makes me.”
you mirrored his smile, a sense of contentment settling in your chest. “but,” you added, your expression turning more serious, “you are graduating soon, so we need to be realistic.”
he nodded. “we can face it together, one step at a time.”
you reach out, your fingers finding his. “okay,”
“can i kiss you now?”
“yes,” you giggled.
he cupped your face, slowly closing the space between you. meanwhile, your hands snaked their way to the back of his neck, pulling him down so his soft lips met yours. the world seemed to fade away, leaving only the sensation of his lips against yours.
the first touch was as light as a feather, but as a surge of emotion overcame the initial hesitation, the kiss deepened. time seemed to stand still and the moment stretched into infinity until you heard a cough coming from the door.
you quickly pull away from the kiss, your heart racing. soobin’s eyes held affection, his fingers still lightly grazing your cheek. you looked to the door to see his mom with her hands on her hips, a playful smirk on her face. “i was just checking to see if you were going to stay for dinner, y/n.” she said, her voice carrying a hint of amusement.
looking down at your hands, that sat in soobin’s hands, you responded quietly. “yeah, i’ll just text my parents.”
“okay,” she left the room with a knowing smile
“that was so,” you squealed in embarrassment, burying your face in soobin’s shoulder. his warmth enveloped you like a comforting embrace as his fingers gently traced patterns on your back.
“at least she likes you,” he joked, making you groan. “we should go downstairs,” he suggests, pulling away reluctantly.
as you proceed to stand up, he playfully tugged you back down, his eyes never leaving yours. “wait.” his voice held a soft urgency, his gaze locked onto your lips. “just one more.” he leaned in, the touch of his lips against yours sending a surge of warmth through your veins. his smile melted into the kiss.
“okay, we can go now.”
you followed him downstairs and avoided his mom’s knowing glances throughout dinner.
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for the next few months, you spent almost every day with soobin. the two of you were once again attached at the hip, savoring every moment leading up to his impending graduation.
and the dreaded day of the ceremony arrived. soobin, loose tie in hand, entered his parents’ room with a furrowed brow. “mom, where’s dad?”
“he had to stop by the office, but he’ll meet us there,” she responded, finishing up her makeup. as she finished she turned to her son, her eyes sparkling. “oh my god,” she cooed. “you look so handsome.” she pulled him into a hug.
“god, mom, relax.” soobin chuckled, gently extricating himself from her affectionate grip. he smoothed out the wrinkles on his shirt.
“is it a crime for a mother to be proud of her son for graduating?”
“no, but i need help with the tie.” he gave it to her.
she took the tie, fingers deftly weaving it into place around her neck. “is y/n coming with us?”
“no, she’s going with her parents.”
“you know, i’m really glad you have her in your life.” there was a tenderness in her voice, her eyes fixed on her son as she put the tie around his neck, adjusting his collar.
“that’s random.”
“it’s not random. i’m just saying you’re graduating and going to college soon, and i just don’t want you to take her for granted.”
“i won’t. i promise.”
“ok,” she declared, a smile gracing her lips, indicating that she had finished. “good to go, we’re leaving in ten minutes so go finish getting ready.”
you arrive at your school’s auditorium thirty minutes before the ceremony began. you quickly settle beside soobin’s mother.
“i’m so glad you guys could make it,” she greeted warmly.
you scanned the hall, searching for your boyfriend in the sea of cap and gowns. the familiar hum of your phone in your lap brought your attention back to the present. it was a text from soobin, asking you to meet him outside the auditorium.
“is my dad there?” soobin’s voice held a note of urgency when he saw you.
“not yet, but your mom said he’s on his way. are you okay?” your hand rested comfortingly on his shoulder, trying to steady his nerves.
“i’m just nervous about the speech and the fact that he isn’t here yet.”
“well, he’s going to be here. who would miss their only child’s graduation?” you offered a reassuring smile, attempting to lighten the mood. “and the speech is going to go perfectly, okay?”
“you don’t know that.”
“yes, i do! you’ve been practicing all week. you’re going to do great.”
“what if i mess up?”
“if you mess up, just find me in the crowd, okay? i’ll be with both your parents and my parents, and we’ll all be cheering on you.”
“alright, thank you.” he took a deep, steadying breath.
you reached up, planting a tender kiss on his lips. “you’re going to do great,” you affirmed, and with that, he headed through the student entrance into the auditorium.
the ceremony flowed seamlessly. pride swelled in you as you watched soobin take the stage. his dad slid into your row just as he went on stage, and you offered him a thumbs-up, met in kind.
you returned to soobin’s house with your parents for the celebration. the living room was adorned with congratulatory banners and balloons, the most bright and colorful you’d ever seen his house.
for most of the party, you didn’t see much of him as he was passed around by friends and relatives that wanted to congratulate him. but eventually, at some point in the night he finds you and the two of you escape from the party to embrace the quiet of his room. the room was dimly lit, and mostly quiet, save for the chatter and the music softly playing from outside the door.
“god, i really needed this,” he confessed, stretching out on his bed. you nestled beside him, resting your head on his chest. he enveloped you in arms, fingers entwined with yours. “talking to people is exhausting,” he sighed.
“you were amazing today,” you reassured him.
“because i had you there with me.”
“and your dad came.”
“yeah, half an hour late. i can’t believe he went to work today.”
“at least he was there.”
“i don’t even care anymore. i’m just happy you were there and that we’re here together right now. i can’t wait for this summer.”
“i need to tell you something.”
“yeah,” he turned to you, fingers gently playing with yours.
“you know how i’m vice president of culinary club?” he hummed in acknowledgement.
“well, our faculty advisor told me about this culinary school that she thinks i should apply to for college.” you explained. “anyways she thinks i need to get a job or internship or something this summer to make my application stronger.”
“yeah,” his voice took on a more tentative tone.
“well, she connected me with one of her friends who owns a restaurant downtown and he said that i could, like, shadow him for the summer.”
“that’s great but–”
“i know. i don’t think it’s going to stop us from spending time together. we’ll still be able to do everything that we planned on doing. it’s just not going to be everyday.”
“baby, you don’t have to explain yourself to me.”
“i just feel bad.” your voice softened.
“why?”
“we had so many plans.” you pouted
“and we’ll still be able to do them,” he assured you. “i think it might be good practice for us when i go to school in the fall.”
“yeah, you’re right.”
you leaned up to kiss him, and he kissed you back.
the two of you lingered on his bed, the world beyond the room fading into insignificance. then, a gentle rap on the door pulled you out of your trivial conversations. 
“soobin,” his dad entered the room, voice cutting through the hush. “some of your guests are leaving. go downstairs to say goodbye.”
soobin shot up from the bed. “yeah, i’ll head down now.”
“y/n can i talk to you?” his dad asked. soobin looked back at you before leaving the room.
“yeah, what’s wrong?”
“nothing’s wrong. i just wanted to talk to you about soobin.”
“what about soobin?”
“why don’t you sit down,” he suggested. you complied, perching on your boyfriend's bed. “i wanted to talk about soobin because well he’s going to college in the fall and i just want to make sure that he’s not wasting his experience or losing his focus.”
you weren’t sure how to respond. “i’m don’t know–”
“see y/n, you’re a great girl and you’ve been there for soobin for a long time, but you also distract him.”
“what?”
“i work really hard to make sure that my family can live in this neighborhood and so that my only son can go to a good school. i don’t want to see him waste his life over his high school girlfriend.”
your chest tightened, emotions surging. you wanted to speak up, to yell at him and tell him off for inserting himself into your relationship. you wanted to yell at him for even saying this to you when he couldn’t be bothered to show up for his only son’s high school graduation. you wanted to defend your love and your commitment to soobin. but as the tears welled up in your eyes, the words caught in your throat. all you could manage was a quiet, “okay.”
“i’m glad you understand. i know we both care about him and we both want the best for him.”
he exits the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts and your tears. the last words he spoke echoed in your mind. we both want what’s best for him.
you gathered enough composure and strength, wiping away your tears, and made your way downstairs. you attempted to slip away quietly, but soobin caught you at the door.
“you’re leaving?” the dim light from the porch illuminated his face, casting soft shadows across his features.
“yeah, it’s getting late.”
“are you okay?” he noticed the tremor in your voice.
“yeah, i’m just super tired.”
“oh, okay? what did my dad want to talk to you about?”
“oh, he just asked me to send him the videos and photos i took of you earlier.” the lie tasted bitter on your tongue, but you pushed it out regardless, hoping to shield soobin from the weight of his father’s words.
“are you sure you’re okay?” he asked, taking hold of your hands. “do you want me to walk you home?”
“no, yeah, i’m fine.” you pull him into a hug for what felt like an eternity. if he noticed anything wrong with you after that, he didn’t bring it up. “i’ll see you tomorrow.”
that night, you couldn’t fall asleep. the room seemed to close in around you suffocating in its emptiness. the echoes of the conversation with soobin’s father reverberated in your mind, haunting you.
you grappled with the weight of your fears and insecurities. what if he was right? what if you were holding soobin back? distracting him? the thought had always lingered at the back of your mind since you began dating. and now that he was actually starting at college, that unspoken fear threatened to consume you.
maybe his dad was right. you needed to give him the space that he needed to grow. and it’s not like you had to break up with him. you just needed to keep him at an arm’s length and this summer was a chance for you to learn how to do that with you working. so in the weeks that followed, you found yourself pulling away and creating that distance. the space between you stretched as you took more shifts at work and spent less time with your boyfriend.
“i might move into school a week early,” soobin told you one day when you were hanging out in your room.
you felt your heart sink.
you hadn’t spent that much time together and now you had even less time together. it felt like a cruel twist of fate. still, you masked your disappointment with forced encouragement. “that’s good.” you muttered. “get to know the area better.”
“you think i should go?”
“i mean, if you want to. it seems like a good idea.”
“okay,”
as the day arrived for soobin to leave for school, you felt a void open up within you. the weight of missed moments and unspoken words crushed your soul, suffocating in their intensity. you called out of work but stayed in bed all day, cocooned in the covers, crying about the fact that you couldn’t allow yourself to savor the little time you had with soobin.
when soobin facetimed you later that evening, your heart both leapt and sank at the sight of his face. “hey, let me see your face.”
“i look horrible,” you groaned, but still revealed your face that was covered by your blankets and pillows.
soobin’s brows furrowed when he saw your face with your eyes red and your nose puffy. “have you been crying?”
“no, i’m just sick.” you tried to hide it, to mask the pain, but the cracks in your facade were all too evident.
“please, y/n, don’t lie to me.”
the raw vulnerability in his voice cracked something open within you. “i just miss you and i wish I could have helped you move in.”
“maybe i can come home on the weekend after classes start?” you wanted to revel in the possibility of seeing him again so soon, however the question lingered heavy in the air.
“do you think i’m holding you back from getting the full college experience?”
“where did that come from?”
“what if there’s like… i don’t know, a really cool frat party that weekend? would you miss out on that for me?”
“i think i’d rather see my girlfriend than go to some hypothetical frat party.”
“i’m being serious.”
“do you not want me to come home?” his question hung in the air, like a delicate thread of vulnerability. the room seemed to pulse with unspoken tension. your fingers tightened around the edges of your blanket, grasping for comfort and grounding, as you thought over your answer. every second of the silence felt like a weight on your shoulders.
you sighed. “i do, but–”
“then what’s the problem, y/n?” soobin’s voice, slightly raised, tinged with frustration, cut through the hush. “it seems like ever since the summer started you’ve been pushing me away, and i don’t know if i did something wrong.”
“you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“so what’s up?”
“i just don’t want you to feel like you’re wasting your time focusing on your high school girlfriend when you have so much life ahead of you.”
“you’re not just my high school girlfriend.” his voice softened.
“that’s not what i meant.”
“you’re also my best friend. and i don’t ever feel like i’m wasting my time by being with you.”
you contemplate telling him what his dad said, but you ultimately decide against it.
“what are you thinking?” he asked after you didn't respond for a while.
“i don’t know.” you confessed, your voice barely louder than a whisper.
“i need you to be honest with me because i don’t know what you need or how much more i can reassure you that you’re it for me.”
“maybe we should take a break?” the words slipped out before you could stop them.
“what?” soobin’s eyes widened, disbelief and hurt dancing in their depths.
“just maybe for the semester.” you rushed to explain, “so you can get your footing in school and i can focus on college apps.”
“so, you want to break up?”
“not like a real breakup. we’ll still talk and everything, just with some space.” he looked away, his jaw clenched, like he was processing the idea.
“i can’t believe you’re suggesting this.” his voice cracks as he blinks back the tears welling up in his eyes.
“maybe it’s what we need right now. we’ll still talk.” you promised, mostly trying to convince yourself.
the call ended and the weight of your decision settled on your chest, like a heavy ache that echoed the emptiness you felt inside. in your head, you were making the right choice for both of you, but that didn’t make it any easier. and as hard as you tried to maintain your relationship with soobin, over the next few months, the calls and messages became less frequent. the space between you was growing wider and each interaction held a bittersweet tinge, a mix of familiarity and the painful reminder of what once was.
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the next break from school came quicker than you had expected. you sat at your desk, catching up on homework as the late morning sun streamed through the window, casting a warm glow across the room. the creak of your bedroom door announced your dad’s presence.
“how are you doing?” he asked, his voice tinged with concern.
a faint smile danced on your lips as you turned to face him. “i’m not going to kill myself dad,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood. “i’m just doing homework.”
“you’ve been in your room all break. i think i’m allowed to be worried.”
you bristled, the walls rising around you like a fortress. “well you shouldn’t be, okay? i’m fine.”
“okay so you don’t care to know that i saw soobin’s car pull up into the driveway?” he asked. you let out a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, your gaze shifted to the patch of sunlight dancing on the floor.
“are you going to see him?” he gently suggested.
“i don’t know if he wants to see me,” you admitted, your voice a hesitant whisper. the weight of uncertainty settled around you, and your dad’s brow furrowed in empathy. he approached you to comfort you. “i think i messed up,” you confessed, the words tasting bitter on your tongue.
he paused to study your face, and then he spoke, his tone filled with reassurance. “i’m sure whatever you did isn’t that bad. who could ever not want to see you?”
a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips, grateful for his attempt to ease your worries. “you’re just saying that because you’re my dad.”
he reached out, placing a reassuring hand on your shoulder. “you know that’s not true. and you know he wants to see you because he cares for you, and he knows you care for him too.”
“and what if that’s not enough?”
his gaze softened, “then you shouldn’t base your worth on what some guys thinks of you.”
“some guy? i thought you liked soobin.”
“yeah, but i like you more.” he pulled you into a warm embrace, the strength of his love wrapping around you like a shield. as he left the room, a sense of comfort lingered in the air. you sat there, the moment stretching, the decision before you felt like a bridge to cross, but you chose to not let fear dictate your actions.
with a determined exhale, you reached for your phone.
to soob: hey, i saw you just got home. whenever you get a chance, can you come over? i think we need to talk.
later that night, in the quiet stillness of your room, you receive a knock on your door. your heart quickened. you leaped out of bed, ready to face whatever awaited for you on the other side of the door. 
“hey,” you breathed, the door swinging open to reveal soobin.
“hi,”
“please come in,” you invited him in. you held the door open, allowing him to step into your sanctuary. “how have you been?”
“good,” he replied, though there was a subtle hesitance in his tone.
“really?”
he left out a soft chuckle, a nervous habit that betrayed the calm facade he tried to maintain. “well, no, but i thought it was the appropriate thing to say.” his hand moved to rub the back of his neck. “how are you?”
“been better,” you confessed.
he settled onto the edge of your bed, and you joined him.
“so you wanted to talk?”
“i’m sorry,” the words tumbled from your lips.
“for?”
“everything?” the raw honesty of the moment threatened to engulf you. “asking for a break, not talking to you. i messed everything up.”
“you didn’t mess anything up,” he countered.
“but look at where we are,” you murmured, your gaze falling to the floor, unable to bear the weight of the truth in his eyes.
“and where is that?”
“here.” you took a deep breath and looked into his eyes. “i just want us to be good like before,” you said after a long pause.
soobin’s expression softened, “me too. i’ve missed you.”
“like crying and throwing up every night?” you teased.
“eh, something like that,” a hint of a smile played on his lips, the lamplight catching the warmth in his eyes.
“good to know,” you replied, a smile tugging at your own lips.
“i’ve said this before, but you’re really it for me.” 
“is that so?”
“yeah, even though your dad was giving me a stank as i was coming upstairs.”
“he was?”
“yeah, and i thought your parents loved me.”
“they do!”
“that doesn’t sound convincing,” he joked, a genuine laugh filling the room, echoing off the walls.
“they do, they do.” you try to convince him. “they’re just really protective.”
“well, how can i get in their good graces again?”
“maybe by kissing me.” you suggest, teasingly.
“you think kissing their daughter is going to make them not hate me?”
“yeah, i think it might be a start.” you replied, your voice soft, but sure.
“okay.” 
he cups your face, pulling you into a tender kiss. as your lips met his, a surge of warmth spread through you, grounding you in the present moment. your hands found their rightful place on the back of his neck, fingers intertwining with the soft strands of his hair. in that fleeting, stolen breath of moment, the world outside seemed to dissolve, leaving just the two of you suspended in this fragile, but powerful connection.
when you finally pulled away, the room took a breath with you. in that moment, everything felt right again. you were back to your version of normal, and it was perfect.
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soobin sat cross legend on your bed waiting for you to bring up some snacks. it was the first weekend of your spring break and he decided to come down to surprise you. while waiting for you, his gaze fell upon a large envelope on your bedside table, its seal embossed with the emblem of the culinary school that you had told him about.
“okay, this is a new recipe that i’ve been working on.” you announce, walking into the room with a plate of cookies in your hand. “i want you to be honest with me. that being said, if you hate it, i’m going to cry.”
“why didn’t you tell me that you got in?” he asked as he inspected the envelope.
“because i’m not going.” you set the plate on your bed.
“why not?” concern was etched into the lines of his face.
“for starters,” your gaze drifted to the windows. “i got more money from other schools. besides, it’s on the other side of the country.”
“so?”
“so, that’s too far.”
“but you knew where it was when you applied,” he pressed. “and it’s your dream school.”
“that doesn’t matter, soobin.”
“well, why not?”
“because, you’re here.” you admitted.
“so, you’re staying for me?”
“you don’t want me to?”
“no,”
“oh,”
“y/n,” he leaned forward, reaching out to touch your hand. “i don’t want you to give up on your dreams because of me.” his thumb was tracing patterns on your hand. “why is it so easy for you to understand when it comes to me but not when it comes to you?”
“i’m not giving up on my dreams,” you argued, your eyes meeting the boy on your bed with determination. “i just want to be with you right now.”
his fingers tightened around yours, trying to grasp the gravity of your decision. “we can still be together.”
“with 2000 miles between us?” you questioned. “we could barely handle a hundred. we’re finally good again. i don’t want to go to school across the country and have that change.”
“nothing’s going to change.”
“you don’t know that.”
“you’re right, i don’t know that.” he began, “but i do know that we literally broke up six months ago, and now i’m sitting on your bed again.”
“it wasn’t a break up; it was a break,” you interjected, a small smile playing on your lips.
“okay,” he dragged out the last syllable. “but my point still stands. we’ve been through a lot and we always end up right beside each other.”
you get your laptop from your desk and log into the admissions portal. “are you going to accept it now?”
“no time like the present.”
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five months later, you found yourself getting in a taxi to your dorm with your parents by your side. they insisted on driving you there, but you managed to convince them that a cross country road trip would cause more harm than good to your familial relationship.
as you settled into the backseat of the cab, the familiar scent of your mother’s perfume enveloped you. the engine hummed softly beneath you, and the rhythmic sound of tires on pavement created a comforting backdrop.
your mother’s eyes sparkled with a mixture of excitement and a touch of sadness. she reached over and gently squeezed your hand, her grip warm and reassuring. “are you excited, honey?” she asked.
your father, who sat in the front seat, spent the entire ride bombarding you with questions about pepper spray.
you managed to drown out your parents, looking out the window, watching the cityscape evolve as you approached your dorm. the towering skyscrapers seemed to reach for the sky, casting long shadows over the bustling streets. you felt a knot of nervous energy settle in your stomach.
at your dorm, your parents helped you carry your bags up to your room. the air tingled with the scent of freshly painted walls and the promise of new beginnings. your room was a blank canvas, waiting for you to imprint it with your personality.
as you unpacked, your mother offered suggestions for organizing your belongings, and your father, more practically, made a list of all the necessities you needed to get like extra blankets and a first aid kit.
yuna, whose school went back in session a few days earlier, texted you inviting you to hang out with her and her roommate. you walked your parents back to their hotel, eating takeout from a nearby chinese restaurant in their room.
as the meal came to an end, there was a bittersweet air, as you gathered your things and left their room. you met yuna in a park downtown, sitting with her roommate. you ran towards her, the anticipation and joy bubbling over. she enveloped you in a tight hug. “i’m so glad you’re finally here.”
as you walked through the park, the conversation flowed effortlessly. you felt a sense of peace settle over you. it was like the first taste of the home you were building for yourself in this new, unfamiliar place.
you arrived back at your dorm alone. your room greeted you with a sense of familiarity. your side was a collage of memories and personal touches – framed photos, trinkets from home, and the soft glow of fairy lights casting a warm, golden hue.
you sat on your bed, looking out the window, the skyscrapers now standing in line with you. the city’s pulsed thrummed faintly in the distance. gone were the nerves that accompanied you earlier. in their place, a newfound sense of determination settled within you. you knew you had to do what you needed to make this place your own. it was the beginning of a new chapter, and you were ready to embrace it with open arms.
and luckily for you, this new chapter did not come at the detriment of your relationship at first. for the first two months of the semester, you and soobin were still talking everyday and about everything – your classes, the new recipes you were working on, how one of your professors worked at one of the most famous restaurants in the world, and about your friends, how much yuna’s presence helped you settle in, how your roommate neither leaves the room nor says a word to you.
for the first time in this relationship, you could almost say that everything was fine.
but as time went on, you felt yourselves shifting into your old patterns of not talking to each other. in the back of your mind, you couldn’t shake off the feeling that soobin had lied. it seemed like everything was changing. or maybe he was right. maybe this was how it always was. there were never enough hours in the day for you guys to be together and you were coming to find that had always been a pattern throughout your relationship. it was just like eighth grade, or the summer before he left for college, or his first semester of college. the story was almost exactly the same – first it was missing texts because of conflicting class times and time zones. but then hours became days which became weeks and before you knew it, winter break was knocking on your door.
this was the first time you would see soobin in four months and the only thing that you wanted to do was melt into his arms. the familiar sights of your childhood neighborhood rushed past as your dad drove you home from the airport. every turn brought you closer to that one house on the street, the house that held so many memories, and now, the promise of reconnection.
as the car pulled into your driveway, you couldn’t contain your excitement. leaping out, you dashed inside your house, tossing your bags onto your bedroom floor with reckless abandon.
his mother greeted you at the door. “y/n, honey, you’re back!” she exclaimed, pulling you into a tight embrace.
growing up, you never spent much time outside of soobin’s bedroom in his home. his father’s relentless work schedule and his mother’s hesitancy to host guests left the rest of the house shrouded in a quiet unfamiliarity. as you walked through the hallways, you thought about how cold and gray the house looked the summer they moved in. it wasn’t much different now.
a deep breath steadied you as you approached soobin’s closed door.
some things didn’t change. the butterflies that swarmed around in your stomach were a constant companion that signaled you were exactly where you needed to be. but then you thought about how lonely you were without him this semester and you decided that maybe everything changing was for the best.
“y/n, you’re home?” his face betrayed him showing confusion. he never had the best poker face.
“yeah,” you affirmed softly, pushing open the door. there, before you, sat a girl at his desk.
or not.
“uh, this is my friend from school, arin. she couldn’t get a flight home for winter break, so she’s staying here.” soobin explained.
“oh,” you responded with a mix of emotions swirling beneath the surface.
arin extended her hand to you. “hi, it’s so nice to meet you. you must be soobin’s neighbor.”
“and his girlfriend,” you added, declaring your place in the room.
awkward tension hung in the air, a palpable shift in dynamics. as the evening unfolded, you settled into a corner of the room, watching the two converse. your gaze shifted between them, your mind a whirlwind of emotions. you marveled at the ease with which they fell into conversation, recounting stories, laughing. a truly unsettling sight. a pang of envy tugged at your heart.
as the night wore on, their voices became a distant hum to you. you felt like a silent observer, a piece of scenery, fading into the background. you did not plan on watching your boyfriend giggle at someone else’s stories for three hours. you longed for his attention, but that seemed like an impossible request.
soobin, engrossed in his conversation, was too oblivious to your discomfort. it wasn’t that he didn’t care, but rather he was just caught up.
you watched them with a mixture of longing and resignation, trying to convince yourself that this was just a temporary moment of disconnect and that soobin would turn his attention back to you soon. but with each passing minute, that hope waned.
gathering resolve, you got up. “i think i’m going to head home.” you announced.
soobin and arin turned their attention to you, momentarily pulling away from their conversation. 
“are you sure?” soobin asked you.
you nodded. “yeah, it’s been a long day. i’ll see you later, soobin. it was nice to meet you, arin.” you turned back to your boyfriend, waiting for his response.
“i’ll walk you home,” he offered.
leaving the room, you couldn’t help but steal a glance back at arin, who was now engrossed in something on her phone. the ache in your chest grew.
the two of you stood in front of your house, the chill of the evening air settling around you. the soft glow from the porch light illuminated the path that led to your front door.
“so, she’s staying the entirety of winter break?” you asked.
“yup,” soobin replied, his words punctuated by a casual pop of the ‘p’. “is there something wrong?”
you hesitated for a moment. “no,” you finally shook your head, a small, rueful smile gracing your lips. “i just wanted to spend time with you alone.”
“we can still spend time together,” he assured. “i feel like you two would get along. she’s a lot like you.”
the reassurance didn’t offer the comfort you sought. instead, it settled uneasily in your stomach. you offered a distracted response, your gaze drifting from the quiet street to your front door. 
“yeah, maybe.”
“are you okay?” soobin asked, pulling you back to the present moment.
you forced a smile, masking the swirl of conflicting emotions beneath the surface. “yeah, just tired.”
“okay, goodnight, i’ll see you tomorrow.” he said, leaning down to kiss you. the touch of his lips felt foreign, like a puzzle piece that no longer fit quite right. it was an odd sensation, leaving you with a lingering sense of disconnection. like you were slipping away from each other. you didn’t want to think too much about it, but deep down you knew that no matter how tightly you tried to hold on, it would be no use.
“goodnight,” you whispered, stepping back and slipping into the warmth of your house.
the days that followed were a dance of awkwardness and unspoken tension. you yearned for soobin’s attention, for the familiar touch of his hand, but it just seemed so out of reach.
one chilly afternoon, you all gathered at a small diner on the corner of town. the warm scent of comfort food wrapped around you as you settled into the vinyl booth opposite arin. your boyfriend trailed behind you, hesitating for a moment before sliding into the booth beside you, a subtle shift that did not go unnoticed. it was a tiny pang, but it was there.
you smiled and tried to shake off the unease, focusing on the menu in front of you. as you chatted about school and plans for the break, you couldn’t help but notice soobin’s gaze flickering between the two of you. it was as if he was trying to find balance in a delicate equation.
another time, the three of you planned to visit the ice skating rink. when you arrived at soobin’s house, you were met with the unfamiliar sight of arin in the front seat of the car. you hesitated for a moment, unsure of where to sit. the glance you exchanged with arin held a silent question, but before you could say anything, soobin assured you it wasn’t a big deal.
as the car pulled away, the hum of their conversation and the pulse of the music filled the space, leaving you feeling like a distant observer.
you invited soobin over for a movie night, so imagine your surprise when you opened your front door to see both of them. you smiled dropped as you welcomed them into your house. this was supposed to bring back a flicker of normalcy. you were supposed to nestle into your boyfriend’s side. but even as the movie played, there was a subtle shift in the air. every moment spent with arin was a reminder of the growing distance, like a river slowly widening between you and the person you held closest.
then came that one precious weekend, a rare convergence of circumstances. both of you found your parents out of town at the same time. you invited soobin over and unfortunately, arin was working on a project for school so she couldn’t join. you had to stifle a surge of joy that threatened to bubble over.
“i’m so happy that we’re finally spending time together,” you exclaimed, gently closing your bedroom door behind you. soobin sat on your bed, with your computer resting on his lap. “alone.” you emphasized, a smile playing on your lips.
with purposeful steps, you crossed the room. you carefully lifted the laptop from his lap, placing it on your bedside table. then, with a graceful movement, you straddled his lap, feeling the warmth and familiarity of his presence beneath you.
“i really missed you,” you murmured, your breath mingling with his. leaning in, you captured his lips in a tender kiss.
the room pulsed with newfound energy as the kiss deepened. soobin’s touch was gentle as his hands found their place on the small of your back, holding you close, grounding you in the moment.
as passion ignited between you, a fire that had been smoldering for far too long, you hands moved with purpose, fingers deftly working to remove the barrier that separated you from him.
but then, he pulled away, his breaths coming in measured, uneven intervals. “w-what are you doing?”
“i’m ready,” you replied, your own voice barely above a whisper. the air crackled with tension, every beat of your heart echoing in the silence that followed.
he sat up straighter, his gaze locked with yours. “are you sure?”
“yes, soobin, i’m sure,” you asserted, mustering more confidence. “i want this.”
he took a moment, his breath steadying, before he spoke. “alright,” he said softly.
he gently guided you back onto the bed. “it might be more comfortable if i’m on top,” he suggested. he removed his shirt, casually tossing it to a corner of your room. “please tell me if you want me to stop.”
you nodded in understanding.
“i’m serious, y/n. i need you to tell me if you’re uncomfortable.”
“okay, i will.”
your heart raced as you laid there, your senses heightened. nervous energy tingled through your veins as his hands caressed your sides. his fingers traced the curves of your hips and thighs slowly. every inch of your body lit with flames as he touched you ever so lightly.
slowly, you mirrored his movements, your hands reached for the hem of your t-shirt. with a deep breath, you took off the old t-shirt to match him, laying eagerly in your pretty pink bra.
he stopped to look at you. “wow.” he breathed out. a rush of warmth flooded your cheeks, and you instinctively buried your face in  your hands. he pulled your hands down. “don’t hide your face from me, baby.” he murmured with tender eyes. “you’re just so pretty.”
you pulled him down to kiss him. “i need you,” you moaned into the kiss.
soobin’s mouth never left your body as he fumbled with his pants. he licked and sucked on your neck, taking his time with his gray sweatpants. soft moans and sighs kept slipping from your lips as he marked your skin.
“wait,” he stopped. “do you have a condom?”
“top drawer,” you breathed out.
soobin reached into the drawer by the bed, his fingers deftly finding the box nestled amidst an array of trinkets.
“open up for me.” you did as he said, and spread your legs a little wider. he could tell you were nervous as he pulled down your shorts. “do you trust me?” he asked, to which you nodded. “it might hurt for a second, but i promise you, it will only be a tiny amount of pain.” you wrapped your legs around his waist and he slowly rocked his hips against you.
you felt him position his hips so that they were perfectly in line with yours, his tip edging your entrance. he began to work his way into you inch by inch, before steadily pushing in until you were filled with his entire length. he threw his head back in pleasure as he bottomed out in you. your hands still on the back of his neck, you nudged him closer to you. “i know it hurts, baby. i’m sorry. just tell me what you need.”
the pain and discomfort was quickly replaced with pleasure. you gasped quietly, and soobin took it as a sign to finally begin moving. he fell into a rhythm of deep slow thrusts just sent you spiraling. he leaned his face down to your neck for a moment, pressing kisses along your flesh and nipping at your shoulder.
“f-fuck, you feel so good.”
he raised his face again, your noses inches apart. your face was contorted in pleasure and he couldn’t help but groan, thrusting into your harder.
“soobin?” you moaned out.
“yeah, baby? i’m right here.”
“i love you.”
he leaned back down to kiss you, his lips trailing down your jawline to your neck.
every kiss, every thrust progressively getting faster was sending you over the edge, making you pant and moan underneath him. the sounds coming from you were making his head spin and he could feel himself getting closer to his orgasm.
he was hitting you in the right spot, causing a knot to form in your lower stomach as you approached your breaking point. the knot in your stomach tightened and snapped. your walls spasmed and clenched around him as you released all over his cock. your body was shaking from the intensity, as you cried his name out. fueling his organs. his hips stuttered and he joined you in climax.
his movements ceased to slow rolls of his hips before eventually stopping.
soft pants and deep breaths invaded the space and filled the room around you. you stayed like that for a moment, catching your breath. he then carefully pulled out. he held your body close to his chest, his eyes softening as he looked down at your exhausted face. 
you nuzzled your head into soobin’s neck, kissing along his jawline. “that was so good.” you said between kisses. soobin responded with a contented hum, his fingers gently rubbing against your arm. the soft rustle of the sheets provided a soothing backdrop to the intimacy you had just shared, cocooning you in a bubble of fleeting bliss
but as the minutes passed, a subtle shift began to settle between you, like a distant tremor foreshadowing an impending quake. soobin’s touch, once tender and reassuring, began to falter. his breath, once steady and calming, now held an undertone of uncertainty.
“i should probably go back home,” soobin said, his arm slowly retreating from around your shoulder. “arin is alone.”
“seriously?” you turned to face him, a mixture of confusion and anger plastered on your face.
“what? she’s a guest.”
“you’re leaving?” you hold onto his arm, desperate to keep him close. “i thought you were going to spend the night.”
“i can’t leave her alone.”
“soobin, i just lost my virginity to you…” your voice trailed off, tears forming in your eyes. your hands dropped to your lap. the room seemed to close in around you, suffocating in its silence.
“y/n–” you could feel your blood boiling.
“don’t.” you shifted away from him on the bed. “i just lost my virginity to you and you want to spend the night with some other girl.”
“i’m not spending the night with her.”
“what’s so special about her?”
“what?”
“why have you chosen to spend every moment of this break with her instead of me?”
“we spend time together.”
“yeah, with her always there.”
the room seemed to hold its breath, the weight of your words settling into the air.
“she’s my friend and i care about her.”
“you care about her?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper, every word laced with a pain that cut through the silence.
“yes i do. she couldn’t go home for winter break. I just want to make sure she doesn’t feel alone.”
“well what about me?”
“y/n, come on.”
“i told you i loved you.”
“y/n, i–” you could almost hear your heart break. he couldn’t even say it back to you.
you quickly sobered up, your walls rising like a fortress around you. “i think you should leave.”
“hey,” he reached out to hold you, but you swatted his hand away, the touch too little, too late. his fingers hung in the air for a moment before dropping, defeated.
“no. i don’t want you here anymore. you should go home.”
soobin stood up and got dressed. his movements were deliberate and slow as he gathered his scattered clothes. he dressed in silence, every gesture laden with a sense of finality. as he stood by the door, fully dressed, soobin turned to look at you. his eyes held a mixture of regret and longing, a silent plea for understanding that hung in the space between you. you met his gaze, your heart aching with a complex blend of emotions – love, betrayal, and a yearning for something that now felt impossibly distant.
the door creaked open and closed softly, the sound echoing in the hollow space left behind. 
putting on a robe, you sat by your window, watching him go into his house, praying, hoping that he would turn around, see you sitting by your window, come back to you. but he just walked into his house, the door closing with a finality that sent a shiver down your spine. your room felt emptier than ever before.
you laid in your bed and let the tears fall freely, each drop a painful release. the weight of reality settled on your chest. a heavy ache seeped into your bones.
the days that followed felt like a slow-motion train wreck. it was as if the color had drained from the world, leaving only shades of gray. every passing moment that you didn’t hear from soobin was a jagged piece of glass, cutting into your soul. each night seemed longer than the last, filled with the silent echo of his absence.
you didn’t even know what hurt more — the raw vulnerability of giving him everything, only to have him leave, or the deafening silence that followed. the unanswered questions swirled like a storm in your mind. why hadn’t he reached out? was he feeling the same heartache that clung to your every breath?
his parents even visited for dinner and you had to paint a smile on your face throughout to hide the storm that raged within. when his mom inquired about your absence, you concocted a tale, your voice steady even though your heart felt like it might shatter.
other than your parents, the only person you spoke to was yuna, who became your lifeline even though she was on vacation with her parents. she was a voice of reason and a source of much-needed laughter. “honestly, fuck him. and fuck her too,” she declared.
“she didn’t even do anything,” you murmured in arin’s defense.
“who the fuck sits in the front seat of someone else’s boyfriend’s car?” yuna fired back, making you chuckle.
"i wish you were here. it's so miserable. i can't even leave my house because i'm scared i'm going to see him," you confessed, your voice a whisper edged with pain.
"if i was there, he'd probably have to file a restraining order against me."
returning to campus was like stepping onto a battlefield, but yuna was determined to wage war against the memories that threatened to engulf you and make you forget about a certain dark haired boy whose name you were no longer allowed to say. “you know what they say: in order to get over someone, you need to get under someone else.” she proclaimed from your closet, picking out something for you to wear tonight.
“i don’t know if i’m ready to get under someone else,” you admitted, fixing your mascara in your bathroom mirror, dressed in your robe.
“doesn’t matter if you actually do. you just need to get your mind off of him.” she hands you a black dress. “wear this. it always looks good on you.”
and so, you allowed yourself to be swept up in a night of bar hopping. the pulsing music and laughter washed over you like a healing balm. for a few precious hours, you were just another college student, drowning your sorrows in neon lights and thumping bass.
between the nights out, you threw yourself completely into your studies, the pursuit of a summer internship becoming your north star. you came to school to do something, and you weren’t going to let your heartache consume you.
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spring was always a happy time for you. the air was warm, carrying with it the promise of renewal. it had been months since you had thought about soobin, and even longer since you had seen him. for the first time since that unfortunate night, you felt like you were completely over him. or at least getting there.
as you strolled back to your dorm from class, the world hummed with a quiet energy. the sun hung low in the sky and the air was soft and warm against your skin. but then you saw a familiar silhouette leaning against your dorm building. time seemed to stretch in that moment, the world around you fading into a blur. your heart quickened its pace, a staccato beat echoing in your chest.
"y/n," he breathed, his voice a soft plea that hung in the air. his presence was a sudden gust of wind, stirring the carefully constructed walls around your heart.
your guard was up, a fortress of steel around your heart. you wouldn't let him waltz back into your life just to tear you apart again. "what are you doing here?" you demanded, your voice steady despite the turmoil within.
"i wanted to talk to you."
"how did you find my address?"
"your mom gave it to my mom, who gave it to me."
you let him into your building, signing him in with the security guards in the front. the familiar surroundings now felt foreign with him there. in the confines of your dorm room, he looked around, his gaze grazing over the familiar details that now seemed foreign.
“you said you wanted to talk. so talk.” you said to him sitting down. you were so grateful that your roommate had gone to class. you really didn’t need her to be in the room with you now.
he glanced around, his face marked with uncertainty. “i don’t know where to start.”
you met his gaze without a word.
“i guess… i could start with sorry.” he offered with a nervous chuckle.
“i think that’s too little, too late, soobin.” you asserted, matter of factly.
“i miss you.”
“you can’t keep saying that.” your shoulders sunk. looking at him now, you could feel all the emotions bubbling back up — the anger, the hurt, the tears, they were all coming back to you.
“i know, but it’s true.” he rushed to add. “that’s why i came here. i wanted to see you. i know we didn’t leave things the right way.”
“soobin, you were the first person i ever had sex with and you left me right after.” you tried to keep your cool and maintain your composure, but it was getting increasingly harder.
“i-i know. i’m sorry,” he stammered, remorse filling his eyes.
“is that all you came here to say? sorry?” he looked at you apologetically, offering no further words. “you hurt me so much and you couldn’t even say anything to me afterwards. i waited every day for months to see if you would ever call me and you didn’t. it was like i meant nothing to you. it was just so easy for you to forget that i existed.” as the words flowed, you felt a strange mixture of relief and sadness wash over you. the wounds were still fresh, but there was a catharsis in finally addressing the unspoken.
“i’m s—” he stopped himself. “i know i hurt you. i don’t know what i can do to make it right.”
“i don’t think there’s anything you can do to make it right.” you said, wiping the slow tears from your face. you sat up, meeting his gaze squarely. “i spent our entire relationship fighting for you to pay attention to me. i can’t do that anymore. i don’t want to beg someone to care about me.”
“i care about you. you know that.”
“do i?”
“i didn’t think this conversation would go like this if i’m being completely honest.”
“i’m not angry at you anymore. at least i’m trying not to be.” you tell him. “and i don’t hate you, if you thought i did. i don’t think i could ever hate you.”
“i don’t think i can’t not have you in my life.”
“i’m still your neighbor.” you joked.
“it’s not the same.” he admitted quietly, sitting beside you. “y/n, i love you.”
“soobin–” you turned to face him, searching his eyes for any sign that he understood the depth of your pain.
“i know, it’s too late. i just wanted you to know.” his gaze fixed on his hands, fingers tracing invisible patterns on his jeans. “i can’t erase the past. but i want to try to make amends, to find a way back to some semblance of… of friendship, maybe.”
friendship. the word hung in the air, a fragile bridge between your shared history and the uncertain future.
“i don’t know if we can be friends. not right now, at least. maybe not ever.”
he looked up, pain etched in the frown lines across his face. “i understand,” he murmured, voice heavy with regret.
silence enveloped, broken only by the distant sounds of life outside. after what felt like an eternity, you finally spoke, your voice softer now. “i think i need time. to you know, figure out my shit.”
he nodded. “i want you to know that i’m sorry. truly.”
“i know.”
with a heavy heart, you walked him to the door. as he left, you closed the door behind him, leaning against it for support. alone in the quiet of your dorm, you let the tears come. finally you had a release of all the emotions long held in check. you had tried your hardest to bury them, but now it was time for them to finally come out. the pain was still there, but with each tear that fell, you felt a small measure of healing begin.
in the days that followed, you took each moment as it came, allowing yourself to grieve for what was lost and to slowly rediscover the strength within you. spring continued to dance outside, and you vowed to find your own renewal.
taglist: @boba-beom @dearlyjun @atinyniki @makoto @bunnie-hq @wiisoob @isabellah29 @pluviophile-xxx
fill out this form to join my taglist! author's note :: finally edited!! classic quintessential fay angst!! we're so back!! I wrote this story over the course of two months. it is the longest thing I have written so far and I am super proud of it. please lmk if I missed any warnings or have any typos. I really hope you enjoyed it
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rbbrbikerthorp · 4 months
Text
Biker Upgraded To Cyborg
For as long as anyone could remember, Jake and Eddie had not only been best mates, but they’d been crazy about motorbikes. Both their dads were bikers so it was no surprise that as kids they were introduced to bikes in real life and got to watch MotoGP, WSB and BSB either in real life or on TV with their enthusiast dads.
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They were riding off-road in their early teens. They got their first mopeds at 16, upgrading to 125cc bikes a few months after their respective seventeenth birthdays. Now in their early 20s they have held full licences for nearly three years. Jake rides a black Honda CBR600RR, bought second hand through the weekly motorcycling title, MCN. Eddie rides a used Red Yamaha R6 that he bought a couple of months earlier from the main dealer in the city where they live. Springtime and the light evenings meant they would be out as much as possible riding 'the highways and byways', and this day was no exception, but it would be a day that changed their lives forever. 
Jake and Eddie had spent most of Sunday riding and were at the edge of the city when Jake’s bike had started spewing smoke out of the engine before rolling to a stop alongside a large industrial estate. Jake jumped off his bike, but with no tools to hand he had no option but to seek help. He pushed his bike into the entrance to one of the large modern warehouses that populated the industrial estate. Jake kicked the side stand into place and sighed heavily. Eddie pulled in alongside Jake, kicked down the stand on his before turning off the ignition.
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Although they were back in the city, they were still about ten miles from home. Jake reached into his leathers for his phone only then realising that they were in an area without mobile phone coverage. Jake and Eddie looked around for a payphone to call the breakdown service - but in this era of mobile technology, BT had removed most of the phone boxes - so there wasn't one within sight. Realising they needed to get help they looked around for signs of life. In front of them was a sprawling grey structure resembling more of a fortress than a warehouse. Its metallic surfaces gleamed under the late afternoon sun, making it look otherworldly. Figuring it might be their best chance at getting help—or at least finding a phone—they started walking towards the massive building.
The front gate was oddly open, inviting yet silent. Jake and Eddie didn't think it weird for a security guard building to be unoccupied with the gates open. More concerned about getting help they walked towards the main building entrance. Jake pressed on the intercom button and waited for a response. After a minute he pushed the button again, but this time there was a buzz. Jake looked at Eddie and shrugged his shoulders, pushing on the door, it opened. They walked inside.
Expecting to see a reception area the two friends were surprised to enter the building at what appeared to be the beginning of a long dimly lit corridor. Jake and Eddie looked at one another, Jake spoke first, “Why don’t you wait here, while I see if I can find anyone to speak to”.
Eddie nodded.
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Both looked at one another, for a moment unsure of what to do. Then Jake smiled, turned and started walking along the seemingly endless corridor, his boots echoing on the cold, concrete floor. The air was chillingly sterile, as he walked he would pass the occasional door and window revealing glimpses of high-tech interiors.
"Hello?" he called out, his voice disappearing into the ether without an answer. The lack of response was unnerving, but as he walked on he could hear noise coming from much further along the corridor. Jake kept walking, driven by his need to get to a phone and call the breakdown service to sort out his bike.
Eventually, the corridor turned to the right, after another dozen or so yards it opened up into a colossal space. What Jake witnessed was like a scene reminiscent of a sci-fi horror film.
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The room was stark yet brightly lit. On one side it was filled with row upon row of raised surgical beds. Yet these weren't like the ones you’d see in a hospital; they were repurposed contraptions where human flesh was being melded with alien, synthetic and electronic components. Shocked by what he was witnessing, he turned his head, but there was no escape from the nightmare he found himself in.
The other side of the room was populated with dozens of cylindrical tubes. Jake’s eyes widened as he took in the sight before him—humans, all young males, lined up and undergoing transformations into, well all he could think of was 'something else'. Whichever way he turned he could see men his age were being outfitted with mechanical limbs, others had technology intricately woven onto weird shiny black body suits, still others were in varying stages of being processed into full cyborgs.
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The horror gripped him; his instinct was to flee back to Eddie and both to get the hell out of there. But before he could move, cold metal hands grasped his shoulders with an iron grip. His heart sank as he was spun around to face what had caught him—a cyborg, its body a haunting hybrid of human and machine, expressionless yet totally menacing.
“Welcome," its voice an unsettling blend of tones, both mechanical whilst still eerily human. "Your arrival is opportune. Your integration process will commence shortly."
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Panic surged through Jake as he struggled, but the cyborg's grip was unyielding. Despite putting up strong resistance, he was dragged towards one of the ominous stations. Glancing around, he noticed the other captives were not fighting; their eyes showed a haunting resignation, some flickering with the vague light of fear.
As he was forced onto what appeared to be a surgical table, Jake looked around frantically, hoping for any chance of escape. His heart raced as mechanical arms equipped with various tools whirred to life around him. 
In a split second metallic straps shot out from the surgical table and tightened around his limbs and across his torso, a sense of utter helplessness began to wash over him. His heart pounded hard against his chest. He desperately sought that extra bit of human strength that would allow him to escape. He struggled and struggled against the restraints, but the metal straps simply wouldn’t budge.
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Stage one of his transformation was about to begin. From above a helmet descended slowly from the ceiling, its approach marked by an audible, mechanical whirring. Jake squinted upwards, his breath coming in sharp gasps. He was used to his bike helmet, but this was unworldly.
Two drones approached the surgical table Jake was strapped to and grabbed the helmet, which had opened up. One lifted his head slightly and the other slid the back of the helmet under the back of his head. As the helmet closed over his head, a claustrophobic fear gripped him. The world outside the helmet faded, leaving him in a confined sphere of existence. Almost immediately, an overwhelming barrage of white noise bombarded his ears, punctuated by low, droning hums that seemed to resonate through his bones.
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Then, the visuals began on the inside of the visor. Spirals of colour appeared in front of his eyes, intertwining and unraveling in hypnotic patterns. Reds, blues, yellows and greens blended into a kaleidoscope that threatened to absorb his mind. Jake tried to close his eyes, but the images were inescapable, imprinted on the insides of his eyelids, searing themselves into his brain and more nefariously his subconsciousness. Almost as if recognising Jake was finally submitting the noise and visuals seemed to become amplified.
As the sensory overload continued, Jake felt a strange detachment creeping through him—a numbness that suggested the audio and visuals were beginning to take effect. Somewhere in the back of his mind, a small voice screamed in terror and defiance, urging him to resist, urging him to hold on to his identity.
With a surge of willpower, Jake focused on that voice, blocking out the chaos threatening to engulf him. He concentrated on memories of standing in the stands watching the best riders in the world, the challenging rides with Eddie, the feel of his motorcycle, the wind against his leathers. He thought about his best mate Eddie and the fun they’d had. He thought about his family and his other friends. These human experiences, these emotional connections to his past life, became a lifeline to cling onto.
As Jake fought against the sensory bombardment, the helmet detected his resistance, It recalibrated its internal mechanisms in response to his defiance. Suddenly, the white noise in his ears shifted, morphing into a series of low, almost inaudible subliminal messages. Each word—"relax", "comply", "obey", "drone", "conform", "follow", "respect" could be heard—the words flashed across his vision, barely there long enough for conscious recognition, but deeply penetrating his subconscious.
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The colours that swirled before his eyes intensified, becoming more vibrant and pulsating rhythmically, as if to synchronise with his own heartbeat. It was a sensory assault designed to break down the walls of the individual, to reshape his mind into something more compliant and obedient. Jake’s initial surge of resistance began to wane as mental exhaustion set in, the messages infiltrated deeper into his psyche, their insistence relentless and overpowering.
His eyes, once sharp with determination and fear, started to lose focus, the vibrant spirals turning into a soothing blur. The resistance in his muscles softened as his body began to accept the inevitability of his situation. His thoughts, those last bastions of his free will, were slowly suffocated under the warm, smothering blanket of compliance and security that the helmet now forced upon him.
With an audible click and a beep, the helmet sealed its final adjustment, signalling the completion of its preparatory phase. At this cue, the two drones, their movements precise and devoid of any hesitation, glided smoothly towards the table where Jake lay subdued. Their appendages were equipped with various tools and devices necessary for the transformation process.
The drones worked efficiently, attaching additional apparatus to Jake’s limbs and interfacing seamlessly with the helmet. As they initiated the physical transformation, Jake’s body was being prepared to receive bio-mechanical enhancements that would connect him irrevocably to The Hive which he learned was housed within the humongous building.
Somewhere in the dwindling recesses of his mind, the essence of who Jake once was—a biker with a love for the open road—flickered weakly. This essence watched as his limbs and muscle fibres were methodically integrated with synthetics and his nervous system was integrated with advanced circuitry. The process was both horrifying and fascinating to watch.
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As the transformation progressed, Jake’s human senses were gradually overridden by electronic inputs. His vision, once clouded by the colourful spirals, now interfaced directly with data streams providing real-time analytics about his environment. His hearing was no longer filled with subliminal messages but was tuned to various frequencies beyond the range of human hearing.
By the time the transformation was complete, Jake, as he had been, no longer existed. In his place stood a new Jake, a cyborg, what was exclusively biological had been augmented with technology. The drones, recognising another successful integration, had begun to step back.
The new Jake climbed down from the surgical table to be guided by the two drones. He moved with a robotic precision that was both chilling and enthralling to witness. He was led to what looked like a modified dentist's chair, but larger and imposing. The chair had been upgraded and was fitted with numerous ports and circuitry interfaces. Without hesitation, he sat down, his actions appearing devoid of the personality that had once defined him.
He leaned back so that his head touched the headrest. The chair immediately sprang to life, adjusting to accommodate his new form. A second later the old Jake would have felt a light sensation on both sides of his head as what can only be described of as two metallic ear pieces, out of which came sets of wires slid into his ears and began to work. 
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Somewhere, an echo of the old Jake could sense what was happening, words echoed around the room and in his head. Screens nearby flashed “accessing biological memories…beginning total erasure”. 
“NNNOOOOOOOO”, But even as the word was said, Jake’s relatively short lifetime of memories were disappearing, flashing before his eyes for a split second before evaporating into nothing - gone forever. 
Monitors next to the chair flashed “Memory Wipe successful,” again, the words echoed around the room. 
Any human observer in the room looking at new Jake’s face would describe it as passive, distant, dull, emotionless. Empty. His eyes were missing their human sparkle. 
Then the drone formerly known as Jake again felt another funny feeling in his ears, as if a static charge was coming out of the wire. Suddenly the screen flashed “Beginning Program Upload”… While that happened, nearby monitors flashed, “Emotional Centres being accessed”. 
“Installing Human Emotion Suppression Software”
“… 10%… 20%… 30%… 40%… 50%… 60%… 70%… 80%… 90%…  ”
“Human Emotions Suppression Software installed. Fully functional.”
The monitors flickered for a moment and then more text appeared, “Beginning Cyborg Program Upload”. The upload began. The Hive, a vast network of interconnected AI and data banks, started feeding a stream after stream of programming directly into Jake's brain. These were not merely instructions; they were directives that informed behaviour, dictated functions, and defined purpose.
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For hours, data was input into him, a relentless torrent of information reshaping and repurposing him; any lingering traces of his previous humanity now completely overwritten. His eyes, once vibrant with youthful emotion, now displayed a steady, unblinking focus as the programming was embedded, ensuring his obedience and efficiency.
At the appropriate time the interface with the new Jake confirmed the programming had been successful. “Operating at 100%,” it said in an emotionless, synthetic voice. “Organic memories have been wiped. Emotional Suppression Software is fully functional. The new data and objectives have been successfully uploaded with zero errors”.
The chair returned to an upright position, and the new Jake stood once more. His movements were smooth, almost graceful, a stark contrast to the somewhat ‘cavalier’ sports biker he once was. He was a product of advanced technology, a being created to serve a purpose far beyond his previous human desires.
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Approaching him now were two more drones, carrying items that symbolised his final transformation. They presented him with a set of Dainese bike leathers, not ordinary leathers but augmented to interface seamlessly with his cybernetic body. The leathers were equipped with sensors and conductive circuitry that could communicate directly with his system, enhancing his interaction with the Hive.
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Then they presented him with a pair of white boots, larger to accommodate the modifications of his feet, designed not only for protection but also to enhance his connection to the ground and his bike. Gloves that reached up to his arms were fitted next, embedded with micro-circuitry to increase his grip and control.
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Finally, they brought over a new crash helmet unlike any other. This helmet was his direct link to the Hive mind. It was designed to keep him constantly connected to the Hive's data stream.
As the helmet settled over his head, a subtle hum filled the air, signalling the activation of all its systems. The new Jake stood there, a figure of both awe and dread, transformed entirely from the young man who had once freely roamed the roads on his motorcycle.
Now equipped, Jake was led to a new motorcycle, one that matched his new form. To the casual observer it looked like a traditional bike that had been upgraded; integrated with technology that responded fluidly to his enhanced senses and capabilities. As he mounted the bike, the connection between man and machine was seamless, a perfect union crafted by the Hive’s sophisticated engineering.
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The new Jake rode the highway on his futuristic bike, a sleek and menacing marvel of technology that effortlessly caught the eye of any enthusiast. Its design was unlike anything on the roads—sharp angles, glowing panels, and a subtle hum that hinted at its advanced capabilities. It was designed not just for speed and efficiency, but as a lure to attract exactly the kind of individuals the Hive sought to convert.
As he travelled along a popular bikers’ route known for its scenic views and biker cafes, he spotted his next targets. Two young bikers, probably in their twenties, had pulled over in a lay-by, their bikes parked as they enjoyed a brief pause in their riding, catching up on conversation and checking their mobile phones. The new Jake slowed down, looking at the two bikers oblivious to Jake’s presence, his connection to the Hive confirmed they would be perfect candidates for upgrade.
Pulling over smoothly, Jake dismounted his bike. His helmet's visor slid up as he approached them, revealing a face that was human enough to be relatable but enhanced subtly with metallic hints that suggested something more beneath the surface. 
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"Hey," Jake called out, his voice modulated to be friendly and inviting. “Hey there. Not seen you riding ‘round here before.”
The two young bikers, intrigued by the stranger and his extraordinary bike, smiled and walked over. “What is that you’re riding? It looks like it’s straight out of a sci-fi movie. What is that?" one of them asked, his curiosity piqued.
The new Jake chuckled, a sound perfectly calibrated to put others at ease. He needed to win their trust so began to make conversation with them. "It’s a custom build from a place not too far from here. They’re experimenting with some next-gen and EV tech. You guys interested in seeing where something like this comes from?"
The offer was tempting. The allure of advanced technology and the chance to see more bikes like Jake’s was too good to pass up for any avid biker. The young men exchanged a glance, a silent conversation passing between them before they nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, definitely,” the other replied. “We’ll follow you!"
Jake smiled and nodded, turning back to his bike. As they put their helmets on and started their engines, a part of Jake’s programming confirmed the successful engagement of two targets. He led the way, riding at a pace that was thrilling yet careful to keep his new followers comfortably in tow.
The journey took them away from the familiar routes into less traveled roads, the scenery shifting subtly as they moved closer to facility where he had been transformed. The two bikers were unaware of the true nature of their destination, caught up in the thrill of the ride and the excitement of seeing advanced motorcycle tech.
After some time, they arrived at the vast building that looked more like a huge distribution centre than a motorcycle manufacturing factory. The gates opened automatically as Jake approached, a silent signal of his authority and belonging.
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Jake signalled for the other two bikers to do follow him down a roadway between two buildings. Jake brought his bike to a stop, opened his visor and announced, ”we are here.” The other two brought their bikes to a stop, dismounted and removed their helmets.
Jake walked forwards into the huge building just ahead of them; the two other bikers looked at one another, shrugged their shoulders and followed. They would ingress through a different route compared to the one Eddie and Jake entered.
The space inside they walked into was clean and modern, filled with prototypes and machines that made the two young bikers' eyes widen in awe.
"This is incredible!" one of the exclaimed, walking closer to inspect a particularly sleek model that caught his eye. "How do you get in on this?"
Jake's response was calculated, his tone still friendly but now carrying an undercurrent of persuasion. "Well, there's actually a selection process. Part of why I brought you here. If you're interested, there’s a quick tour and some tests to see if you're compatible with the tech."
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Excited and completely unaware of the implications, the two young men agreed eagerly, following Jake deeper into the facility. As they walked, the doors behind them closed silently, the outside world receding as they moved further into the realm of the Hive.
Little did they know, their fascination with bikes and the temptation of combining their love of biking and dreams of futuristic bikes had led them into a trap. This walk would be their last as mere humans, as they stepped unknowingly into the next phase of their lives dictated by The Hive's needs.
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Oh, are you wondering what happened to Eddie? As you might have expected The Hive detected his presence and determined a new purpose for him, but that’s another story.
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cheriladycl01 · 4 months
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Could you do fic for James Vowles with wife reader? I've an ideas : Person A and person B get asked the question of when the other person fell in love. person B's face lights up with mischief and begins to tell the most embarrassing story ever while person A has their head in their hands. You decide who is who. Just something fluff and fun. Thanks!!
The night we first met - James Vowles x StrategistWife! Reader
Plot: You are being interviewed for a Podcast that you and James were asked to do ahead of the 2025 season an get asked about how you guys first ever met.
Credit to jamesvowles for the GIF
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"Here today, we've got two incredible people in the motorsport world and may i say one of the most iconic couples in motorsport with us on the Podcast. We're so thrilled that they are here, James Vowles and Y/N Vowles!" the interviewer exclaims and you both smile to the boys who'd invited you onto their podcast.
"Hello, how are you boys?" you smile at them kindly. You'd actually watched this specific F1 podcast for a while so when you saw a DM from them you begged James to come on with you.
"We are good, happy to have you here!" The other interviewer exclaims and smiles back at both of you.
"So, lets start with Y/N, your career into motorsports has been a bit of a roller-coaster right? Similar to your husbands actually!" he smiles looking at his card of notes and you smile before looking over at James.
"Well I unlike most I think who end up where I am now started actually driving. I did karting from ages of four to fifteen before i took part in British Single Seater which i ended up winning" you smile before looking down and sighing.
The boys pulled up a picture of you on the screen behind you, from 1997 when you were around 13 years old standing on a P1 podium place with a mini trophy in your hand.
They then switched to one which must have been taken in around 2001 when you'd won your first championship in a feeder series to F1.
"And this one taken in 2001 correct and you were 16, and you won here? James, in 2001 as well you'd just made your debut into F1 fresh out of university working for Honda BAR correct?" one of them asks and he nods.
"Yeah, i mean i was fresh out of uni in what then was a standard midfield team. Life was great!" he smiled taking you hand and kissing the back of it.
"So what happened. You should have been in F1 by now surely" he exclaims looking at you making you sigh.
"Well, everyone knows that F1 has always been a sport for the rich, even more a rich mans sport. People like Lewis Hamilton and Esteban Ocon can take the risk when they don't have the funds for it as it's way more likely for a man to be able to do it than a woman"
"My dad always told me I'd never make it and you know like most daughters i believed him and really lost my spark for it! And I think it's so amazing how far forward the sport has come with F1 Academy and the Driver Development Programme, like if I'd had the financial backing of a team then i would have had the confidence to do it" you explain and they both look really sad for you, and it was sad. It was the hardest choice you'd ever made.
"That's so sad, I think i can speak for the large majority of fans when i say you for sure would have been one of the first women win an F1 race!" one of the interviewers says and you just smile, you didn't often like to think what could have been if ... because you'd made your choice and you couldn't change that and right now with the life you had it wasn't something you would ever want to change.
"Yeah, I mean I'm happy with my life now and don't often like to think of it. I have James, I have the kids and my life is incredible and you know maybe if i was in F1 i wouldn't have bumped into James the way I did... and well" you giggle quietly.
"Yeah? How did that happen?" he asks.
"Well..." you start to laugh and James forces his face into his hands out of embarrassment.
"Please don't, it hurts my soul every time you tell this story!" he laughs awkwardly before you just laugh and continue with the story.
"Well it was 2006 and I was set to join Sauber BMW for my placement year in university. Despite no longer driving i still wanted to make my way into F1 and the only way I could now do that was through my brain. Come June 2007 when i was set to leave obviously because the University year worked differently I'd suggested an upgrade that I'd been thinking off all throughout university and it paid off as Sauber were P2 in the constructors by the end of the year" you start to explain.
"2007 in ... I want to say February at pre-season testing was the first time I met James. He was stranded at the track and i offered to drive him back to his hotel and at this point Honda were starting to struggle for money and we were talking about the teams and the possibility of a move for him. I was so concentrated on driving that there was some questions he was asking me twice!" you chuckled making the others all laugh around you.
"As we were about to cross over a intersection, our light had just turned green. I was being cautious because it was dark and there wasn't too many people around and the car behind me bibbed me to get a move on... bare in mind our light is still green and as im crossing a car coming across who had skipped the red light and a car crashed into our front spinning us around so we were facing the other way" you say calmly remembering the incident.
"I was so so embarrassed, even though James was convincing me that it wasn't my fault!"
"And it wasn't, we saw the dashcam footage which circled the internet after the whole altercation" the guy nodded in agreement with James thinking the crash definitely wasn't on you.
"I didn't end up talking to him until I joined back in post graduation with Honda, just before they turned to Brawn and I'd just finished my masters! in 2008"
"So why were you wanting to join a team that was severely financially struggling ..." one of them asks.
"Well, what can i say I've always liked an underdog. It was one of the teams i was trusted to be put in a high enough position without the experience. It was for a lower salary but i though we could really really do something"
"You were a massive part in the £1 team winning the championship correct?" he asks and you blush making James lightly elbow you.
"Stop!" you laugh at him.
"You were though, you pushed us through many months of hardship where we thought we weren't going to survive!" James admits, having also worked in Brawn.
"So now that you were back together what happened?" he asks and you looked over at him.
"Oh we argued all the time, we really got on Ross' last nerve!" you laugh and James nods in agreement.
"He was chief strategist and i was an engineer, would we blame each other and you'd often see us neck to neck in the paddock when something went wrong" you giggled.
"Yeah thats where the iconic picture of Jenson Button holding you back as your trying too ... I don't even know what you were trying to do honesty" he chuckles looking at the picture making you both chuckle.
"I think she was trying to strangle me... and now that we are married I can for sure tell you guys this time was defiantly my fault" he nods looking down a little bit.
"So how did you guys end up dating. You started dating after Mercedes overtook Brawn and you guys both remained there correct?" he asks and you both nod.
"I think, as much as we enjoyed our time at Brawn there was so much anxiety and pressure on and off track... and I think there was a lot of tensions" James says and you nod.
"I'd always looked up to James but i was still pretty embarrassed about the whole car crash incident and with all of the stress in the team I think for me it just turned into a self defence mechanism..." you grin, knowing this was the bit where James always got embarrassed.
"We were at the celebrations in Abu Dhabi and when we were celebrating knowing we'd one James ... kissed me ... on the lips and it was so random and quick. He pulled back looking so awkward and for a few moments was panicked ... i still don't know why!" you laugh looking over at him.
"Thought you were gonna report me to HR... but I'd had feelings for you since the car accident and I never stopped thinking about you even in our loss of contact..." he smiles pulling you into a small forehead kiss.
"Woah, thats so crazy we never knew there was a whole story since what 2007 behind the pair of you!" the interviewer smiles and you nod.
"Yeah we got married in 2016... the year i became Nico's race engineer as a promotion. Massive year too where we won constructors and drivers. I don't think Lewis spoke to me for a whole year after that" you laugh remember 2016 to 2017 being awkward.
"Is that what made you make the move later on?" he asks, once Nico left you became Valterri's race engineer when he joined.
"Not at all, I loved my time at Mercedes but there were other challenges out there for me. James understood that and once i saw Lando join McLaren i knew there was a good thing starting there. It was a British brand so you know it wouldn't effect me, or the anyone else so it was the perfect opportunity and i was at the same level as James so it was like we were competing" you laugh.
"And you became chief strategist, which is so so impressive you've really had the incredible career haven't you?"
"You know, I don't know where i'd be if it wasn't for the night we first me" you say looking over at James tears welling in your eyes a little. He drove you to be better at your job... he and the life you'd created with his was the most important thing ever to you.
Taglist:
@littlesatanicassholebitch @hockey-racing-fubol @laura-naruto-fan1998 @22yuki @simxican @sinofwriting @lewisroscoelove @cmleitora @daemyratwst @lauralarsen @the-untamed-soul @thewulf @itsjustkhaos @purplephantomwolf @chasing-liberosis @summissss @gulphulp @starfusionsworld @jspitwall @sierruhhhh @georgeparisole @youcannotcancelquidditch @tallbrownhairsarcastic @ourteenagetragedy @peachiicherries @formulas-bitch @cherry-piee @spilled-coffee-cup @mehrmonga @bigsimperika @blueberry64857959 @eiraethh @curseofhecate @alliwantisadonut @dark-night-sky-99 @i-wish-this-was-me @tallrock35 @butterfly-lover @barnestatic @landossainz @darleneslane @barcelonaloverf1life @r0nnsblog @ilove-tswizzle @laneyspaulding19 @malynn @viennakarma @landosgirlxoxo @marie0v @yourbane @teamnovalak @nikfigueiredo @fionaschicken @0picels0 @tinydeskwriter @ironmaiden1313 @splaterparty0-0 @formula1mount
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shorelinessightlines · 9 months
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Jupiter is often referred to as the star that failed. Max thinks about that, sometimes, when they're racing and he's just passed Daniel on track. He can look in his rearview mirrors and see the little three on the AlphaTauri—Daniel, in a shitty car he outperforms every weekend, and Max, already set for the podium.
When Max is particularly bored, he rewatches old races from 2014, ‘16, ‘18 and thinks about it, unbidden—how if Lewis and Max simply didn't exist, it might’ve been Daniel on the top step at the very end of the season. Daniel fighting for titles and wins, not letting anyone keep the 1st place cap on their head long enough to mess up their hair. If he'd just been a little quicker, a little more ruthless; if he'd stuck around long enough for the Honda engine, the RB19. If Daniel had just been a fraction of a second better.
Then Max feels bad for ever thinking such a thing. Not because it isn’t true, but because it sounds like something his dad would say.
Jos used to buy Max magazines full of interviews by Senna, Prost, Mansell. He said they were full of stars. He laughed at Max when they got home after Zandvoort in 2011, back when Max was still in karting and Daniel was just starting out in F1, and Max had said: "I want to be just like him."
That Christmas Jos bought Max a poster of Nigel Piquet and said, "This is the type of man you should be looking up to." Max hung it up on his ceiling that night and stared at it. He had thought, privately, that if Piquet was a star then he must have been one of those small stars, the ones that you can’t really see from Earth without a telescope. Daniel was closer, brighter. Sun-like.
He tore down the poster the next morning.
Jos was right, of course, to steer Max towards more successful heroes. Jos would never point to Daniel's article in GQ Sports and tell Max he's looking at a star. Daniel smiles at him, though, on the paddock and off, and it feels like sunshine.
He tells Daniel as much during the summer break, in Daniel's Monaco apartment, tipsy off some expensive wine Max can't even pronounce the name of.
"Jupiter is a very stupid planet," Max is ranting, unreasonably pissed about it. "You know, it has ninety-five moons? The fuck does it need ninety-five moons for? Stupid." He chugs another sip of wine, straight from the bottle. Daniel does the same.
"Jupiter?" Daniel muses after he swallows, less inebriated than Max but still drunk enough to have begun sitting on the couch upside down. The top of his skull almost touches the floor. "Mate, don't diss Jupiter like that. Space gets lonely, maybe."
Max snorts. "It is a planet, Daniel, it does not get lonely. It should just have one moon, or no moons. It is not very loyal."
"It is a planet, Maximus, it cannot be loyal," Daniel says back to him, snarky, in a high-pitched voice and a bad Dutch accent.
"Is that supposed to be me?" He shoves at him, accidentally causing Daniel's head to bang against the floor. Whatever. He deserves it. "Name one good thing about Jupiter."
Daniel shrugs as best as he can. "Biggest planet in our solar system or whatever the fuck. Why are we talking about Jupiter again?"
"Because it is awful, and my dad is not correct." Daniel laughs, at that.
"What? Does your dad, like, love Jupiter or something?"
Max points, accusatory. "See, that is exactly the point! He does not love Jupiter! In fact, he is awful about Jupiter!"
Max can almost see the gears in Daniel's head grind together slowly. "Then why are you dissing Jupiter?"
Max groans. His thoughts make less and less sense the more he goes on. "I am not, of course, dissing Jupiter. I am simply pointing out the fact that Jupiter is not a star and you, obviously, are a star." He's getting lost in his own, brilliant analogy.
Daniel says, "Oh yeah, Maxy?" He has his stupid smile on, the one that Max knows means he thinks Max is crazy but will indulge him anyway. "Well it's very nice that you think so."
"Of course I think so," Max scoffs, perfectly serious. He hates that he can't really look Daniel in the eye, sitting right-side-up. He opts to sit like Daniel, head towards the floor and legs slung over the back of the couch, so he can stare directly at him. "I am being serious."
"Well, I'm serious about that Jupiter shit. Best planet ever. Number one Jupiter defender, right here," Daniel slurs, pointing at himself and flashing his brilliant, sun-warm smile.
Max can't help but smile too.
"You are very stupid," he says, and it sounds like something else. "I am trying to tell you that I think you—you." He flushes, cutting himself off and looking away from Daniel, up towards the ceiling.
"Ah, whatever Maxy. You just can't accept Jupiter's superiority."
Max tries one last time, to make him understand. "Jupiter is called the star that failed," he says, trying to prove something.
Daniel is looking at him, he can feel it. His stare burns a hole in the side of Max's head. "I'm okay with that," he says, suddenly very very soft. "Jupiter's the biggest planet in the solar system. He's got a whole ninety-five moons."
"But he is not a star," Max scowls.
Daniel smiles again, smaller. Kinder. "He gets to orbit a star. He gets to be the biggest planet, and orbit a fucking star, the best star in the universe. That's a pretty sweet deal if you ask me."
Max shakes his head and says, "You are unbelievable." He reaches over to grab Daniel's stupid face and kiss him, and promptly falls off the couch.
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dear-ao3 · 11 months
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go on. explain the drama. edge of my SEAT.
LET IT BE KNOWN THAT I GOT 45 MINUTES INTO TYING THIS AND THEN TUMBLR DELETED IT SO WITH THAT BEING SAID here we fucking go AGAIN
The Curse Of The Second Red Bull Seat
so there are 10 f1 teams, they range from good to bad to mid. one of the teams that is doing outstandingly well right now is red bull. and they have a driver named max verstappen. he’s dutch, and a cat dad. he’s winning pretty much everything at the moment. if everyone’s job is car go fast his job is car go so fast it practically flies.
but all f1 teams have 2 drivers. and f1 has two championships, the drivers championship for the individual drivers and the constructors championship for the teams. each driver gets points when the finish 10 or higher in a race and those points determine who wins the drivers championship and then the two drivers points get added together for the constructors championship. hence, very important to have two strong drivers.
the red bull curse starts all the way back in 2018. at the time the drivers were max verstappen and daniel ricciardo. max was signed to red bull in 2016 and daniel was signed in 2014. max was not on his absolute winning spree yet and he was still quite young, through red bull were still doing decently well.
daniel ricciardos contract with red bull was up at the end of 2018. danny rics is australian, a goof ball, paddock prankster, once sang a song about touching his scrotum and tickling his nutsack (tho perhaps is was the other way around)
he was doing well at red bull (he won in monaco!) and had several podiums and wins with them. but there was something that he didn’t like about them and that was the engine. now every year each team builds a new car to race either brand new or they modify an old one (within certain specs). red bull is not a car company, they are an energy drink company so they don’t have the luxury of being able to go to their factor and individually making all the parts for their cars the way mercedes and ferrari etc do. teams are allowed to outsource parts and redbull was outsourcing their engine from renault (a french brand which happened to also be another f1 team at the time) (they are currently called alpine) and the engines were not doing so great. they kept overheating and causing problems and costing danny rics wins.
enter christian horner, red bull team principle, disney villain and husband of ginger spice. he is very unhappy with the engine as well (and he made some funny comments to renault team principle at the time, cyril, about it) and he wanted to keep daniel as a driver. so red bull announces halfway through the 2018 season that for the 2019 season they would be partnering with honda for their engine. honda had never appeared in f1 before so this was new territory and some people thought this was a risky move.
one of these people was daniel ricciardo. tho, christian horner and everyone else was convinced that daniel was going to stay, they gave him a contract with everything he wanted but he absolutely shocked the world by announcing that he was leaving red bull and signing with renault for 2019.
this was weird for a few reasons, 1. renault made and used the vey engine he was having problems with at red bull and 2. they were not as competitive if a car as red bull. but he still went there and raced for renault for 2019 and 2020 before announcing at the start of the 2020 season that he was signing with renaults rival, mclaren for 2021. re raced with mclaren for 2021 and 2022 and flopped there before mutually terminating his contract a year early and half retired and was a third driver for testing and pr for red bull in 2023 before getting put in the alpha tauri(red bulls less cool sister team) to replace nyck devries over the summer then broke his hand in a crash and was out for several races. this weekend is his third weekend back. this will be come relevant later.
it’s worth noting that in 2019 when danny rics left red bull and max specifically started doing a whole lot better, had no more engine problems and had a fighting chance at winning.
after losing daniel ricciardo red bull signed pierre gasley, a french guy with interesting hair. he was going but red bull was confident in him. at this point they were still trying to beat mercedes and sir lewis hamilton in the drivers and constructors championship so they needed to be on their a game. pierre was in for half a season before they decided that he didn’t have what it took as he kept falling further down the grid and getting less points.
halfway through the season red bull made the choice to swap him with alex albon, who was racing for alpha tauri (the team may have still been called toro rosso) at the time. so halfway through the season alex, who is half british half thai, part cat and just made a silly cereve commercial in his hotel room with his golfer girlfriend, was in. albon did well, he took awhile to get the hang of it but he did score decent points for red bull. he almost placed on the podium twice before getting knocked off track by lewis hamilton.
worth noting that there was speculation that christian horner may have regretted the swap between gasley and albon. pierre went on to win the race in monza in 2020 in the alpha tauri (a medium shit mid field car which is much slower than the red bull). he’s now racing for alpine (previously called renault)
so 2020 was an interesting year, especially towards the end. and especially for sergio (aka checo) perez. checo at the time was racing for racing point which had been previously called force india before the team owner was arrested for money sillies and it went up for sale. it was bought by lawrence stroll, a canadian billionaire whose son, lance stroll was racing for williams at the time. (williams is a whole separate post but all you need to know now is that they were shit at this time). lawrence bought force india with the caveat that his son would be taking ine of the seats, kicking out esteban ocon. they left checo cause he had more sponsors and they needed money.
though for the 2021 season lawrence had announced that he was rebranding the team to aston martin and signing four time world champion sebastian vettel, leaving checo without a seat.
f1 only has 20 seats so if you find yourself without a contract you either retire, become a reserve driver or go back to f2. checo was going to retire if he didn’t have a seat.
he raced his little heart out tho in bahrain and after getting knocked to the back of the grid fought his way up to first and won the race. christian horner called him after and told him that he was being signed to red bull for 2021, replacing alex albon. alex now drives for williams.
checo arrived right at the start of the max doinancd. max won his first drivers championship in 2021 and also in 2022 and 2023, red bull won the 2022 and 2023 constructors championships, so perez did help them get good points but he was lacking a little.
this year has been weird for him. he’s been not finishing a lot of races due to damages and crashes or ending up further down then they want. and remember, he needs to be keeping up with max which is already a tall order.
in suzuka this year checo bumped into hamilton on the first lap and pitted to replace a few parts then went back out after getting a five second time penalty for the accident. he ended up crashing into kevin magnussen at the hairpin on lap 15 and retired his car. he got another penalty to serve at the next race because he wasn’t finishing that one. red bull then decided to instead give him another car to go out in to serve the penalty in and he went out for a few laps then retired that car. he also crashed on the first lap of his home race in mexico, outraging the entire country.
perez is currently about 20 ish points head of lewis hamilton in the debra championship. he’s in second place. while checo has a contract for 2024, there have been rumors that if he can’t hold onto second in the championship (keep in mind there are 3 races left) he will be getting replaced for 2024. this is not confirmed. not even remotely. but, if he does there are three theories as to who is getting the seat. so let’s get into the theories.
daniel ricciardo.
he has already raced for red bull and raced with max on the same team. he is currently in the alpha tauri and red bull have been knows to swap drivers like that before as seen with pierre and alex. it is known that he wants to be in a red bull again before he retires for real. however, he is slightly older which is a risk. he has appeared in a lot of content with max recently and qualified (and i think finished?) above perez in austin.
2. fernando alonso.
fernando is a spanish two time champion, oldest driver on the grid. he’s currently racing for aston martin but there have been rumors that lawrence stroll is selling aston martin because they didn’t do enough of a good job providing a car for his son. if he sells aston martin fernando wants out. and fernando had the talent that red bull needs.
3. charles leclerc
charles is currently a ferrari driver and he’s very good but he’s getting fucked left right and center up the ass with a spork by the ferrari strategy. he does have a seat with ferrari for 2024 but at the mexico gp last weekend he came in third (after running into checho during the first lap) and christian horner of all people defended him in that accident saying there was nowhere for him to go. this is odd because christian horner is an absolute ass who never does this at all ever. ferrari did not aparently show up to celebrate charles podium win and he went to the after party with red bull. he has also appeared in the red bull ig posts recently. ferrari aparently does want to keep him tho and there is a rumor that they are signing alex albon when his williams contract is over in 2025 so be charles teammate.
also there was a tweet from an f1 journalist last week saying that he didn’t want to believe the rumor that he had heard in the paddock and then he said nothing else. people think he is talking about the red bull seat.
so what will happen to the second red bull seat? no one knows.
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myrquez · 2 months
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In Motogp there’s so much money involved, performance anxiety dominates and builds up barriers. Everyone retreats into their own pack, nothing is done together anymore. And I just adapt to it, according to the theory that it’s better to be alone than to be in a group full of fake smiles. But relationships among athletes aren’t only the ones made via some direct, classic form of communication. In sport you can actually enter into communication with someone through other ways that are more mediated but, in some cases, even more profound. With Márquez, for example, we aren’t technically friends. We think highly of each other, we respect each other, we smile to each other when one sees the other one, over the past year he’s been very fair to me, often defining me as an ideal opponent. I think it’s because he knows that I can race him very hard, but always within the rules. Which is, even if for many may not seem like it, exactly the same thing he always did while racing against me. Marc may look crazy, but he actually stands out from clichés and defies physics laws in good conscience. Unlike other riders — those reckless ones with no sense of limit, who after a crash often say “I don’t know why I crashed” — Márquez knows very well why he crashes. He often precisely crashes on purpose, just to explore that limit. He does some experiments first, then goes on to elaborate his theory. In a way, he’s an empiricist exactly like my dad was, when he purposely kept taking more and more steps forward on the track to teach me how and where to brake. It’s just that in this case, it’s the rider that does it. I like Marc. And I interpreted our famous duels in 2017 as a means to get to know each other better. In Austria and Japan we indeed were extreme, but not crazy. Adventures-seekers who like to push themselves to the limit, but not insane and neither unfair to each other […] Deep down, he isn’t irresponsible, even if he often looks for some maneuvers that have no rhyme or reason. Theoretically, and practically, they don’t make any sense. Yet I never get angry about it, not even that time in Zeltweg when it looked like I told him to fuck off. It surprises me, instead, to see what he tried to do to get a win, something like “I can’t believe it”, an amazed curiosity to see how he tried to move into this uncharted territory, the same one where, thanks to him, I consequently went into as the well. And it’s so cool. As if we both dug together a whole new vein of gold: we won’t share the prize, of course, because to keep the gold is my goal, but we still dug through it together as if we were pioneers. And this indeed does create a bond, whatever is it.
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And it’s even more incredible because I exactly know what Marc is going to do in that last turn in Zeltweg. Theoretically, he doesn’t have any more weapons to attack me: at this point his Honda has less traction, worn-out tyres, less power; generally speaking, Honda is less suited to this track than Ducati. And yet he got this far, in the end […] I well know that to have Marc right behind you while going through the last corner is way too much of a problem, the worst thing it could happen to you: he’s going to try it anyway anywhere. So I’ll be there, waiting for him […] Even if we’re going at 200 km/h, I can feel upon my skin how meters get marked bit by bit. One after another. I force myself to focus on his engine’s sound to understand when and where he will attack. And when the noise is there, almost unbearable, I brake hard and leave him a bit of space on the inside line, to force him to exaggerate a bit and then overtake him in acceleration. It’s almost as if I just accepted his invite, just to deceive him later. It might look like it’s just a technical challenge, or a stunt one, but it’s actually about mind games, an hand in glove tied relationship in which our minds get connected. As in bull and bullfighter kind of way. Or, in a I know that you know that I know kind of way. To get a win in this way is a much more difficult thing to achieve, but it is much more cooler as well. When Marc gets on the inside Iine I just know that I made it, because he’s a champion, but he cannot overcome the laws of psychic. My plan gets fulfilled and the dissolving noise of his bike as he goes wide resonates with liberation. That’s when I make that gesture, automatically. Fuck off, you just got played! Real subtitle is: what did you make me do, you bastard? It’s my third win this year. It’s now clear that I am the one challenging Márquez for the title. But to me this doesn’t matter. Like it doesn’t matter that much how I just won against the one who is recognized as the hand-to-hand duels master […] What matters most is that this race has been a way to get to know each other better. Márquez, with his usual Joker smile, confesses that if he hadn’t tried to surpass me he wouldn’t have slept at all that night. That’s what perfectly defines what he is: as long as he is breathing, he will try to pass you even if he had to go through a wall.
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In Motegi it isn’t that different. Here, as well, Márquez is struggling a bit more than me, but I am sure he is going to try it in the last corner. Why shouldn’t he? We’ve been “beating” each other as if there was no tomorrow for the last six laps, in some apocalyptic conditions: heavy rain, curling-like grip, no visibility at all […] Ten minutes ago I wouldn’t have thought we’d get to this point, but as soon as Márquez did a little mistake I got back on track and now we’re here, us again. Ehi, Marc, how are you doing? Our connection in Zeltweg has been restored on the other side of the world. It’s now clear that everything that is going to happen now would not be possible without the other’s collaboration. Like two alpinists in a rope team, we will get ‘till the last meter together. We overtake and we get overtaken. We give and we take. We sting like bees, fly like butterflies, and more than anything we hit like blacksmiths. At Turn 10, I change my trajectory: I’ve been studying Marc for quite a lot from behind and now I imitate him, going a bit wider. This allows me to get into Turn 11 very fast, ready for my strong suit: braking. That’s how I easily overtake him. The Ducati is very stable, everything is under control. I’d be sure to get a win at that point but an alarm goes off in my mind: I won’t give it to you this easily. Exactly. Last corner is on the right. Giving my position it’s obvious that there isn’t any physical space to get on the inside, but imagine if he does really give a damn. When I’m about to lean into the Turn, Marc abruptly arrives out of nowhere as gracefully as Hulk in a china shop. It’s not even a dirty try, more like a circus number: his engine’s noise getting closer echoes into my helmet like the drum rolls that comes just before a trapeze artist jumps. Ladies and gentlemen, Marc Márquez! Where the fuck do you want to go? You’re still sitting straight, I’m already leaning: don’t you see that we’re touching? I don’t know how, but I keep the bike in control. I suspend my maneuver for a millisecond, just enough to let him slide on the outside as I go on riding through the apex. At that point he’s way too wide, he pulls half of a miracle by leaning all on the right to keep his bike on track but has no margin for anything else. Farewell, bye, goodbye. I win today. Again. After the finish line, we stop near the track side by side. Our gloves touch. Contact. Knowledge of the other has deepened. Relationship was preserved. Despite everything, no one cut the rope and we got to the mountaintop together. It’s an awesome feeling. That’s exactly the sport that I would always like. Especially because I won. On TV I eventually admit that to win against Márquez in what he does best really excites me: this is the boost that I need for the climb to the championship, at only 11 points from the lead. Marc showers me with compliments and says that it’s awesome to battle with me for the title, the living proof that professionalism and hard work pay off. He calls me a good guy as well, and I forgive him. Actually, no. Why should I be ashamed [of being a good guy]? To pretend to be a bad guy is something that everybody can do. To actually be one when it’s needed, and to do it with a certain style, it’s something for the few.
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— andrea dovizioso talking about his relationship and his duels with marc márquez in asfalto (2018)
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kelcemenow · 10 months
Text
Drive Me Crazy - Chapter 4.
Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader
Words 1556
Warnings Like, maybe one swear word. A hint of angst and a bit more fluff.
Huge thank you to the Anon who sent this in! They had such amazing words to say about my writing which I massively appreciate and then to top it off, had an incredible request for me! I only have experience with mechanics in the UK, so I've tried my best with this one! "I just recently got interested in Travis K. X reader stories and wanted to let you know, I read all of yours as quickly as I could. They are so well done and I couldn’t help but laugh/giggle and feel through each word you typed out. You’re doing amazing and I’m so glad to have stumbled onto your page. If you have any space for a request, I’d be curious about what Trav would think about having a military (like fighter pilot) or engineer or mechanic girlfriend. I see a lot of stories with him paired with models/singers/social media individuals (which are phenomenal!) but just wondering how he would be with a more tomboy like girlfriend!"
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CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
"And all you'd ever hear me say, is how I pictured me with you. That's all you'd ever hear me say. But since you been gone..."
Your mouth gaped open as a yawn took over your body, halting your singing along to the music playing on the radio as you worked under the hood of a bright blue Honda. Standing up, you stretched your arms above your body, allowing another yawn to loudly roar out across the shop floor.
"Tired?" Jordan asked as he approached you from the other side of the room.
You blinked your bleary eyes, "Yeah. I didn't get home until late last night."
"Bro!" He sucked his mouth to his teeth and shook his head, "You gotta stop working so hard."
You quickly glanced around the room before leaning closer to Jordan, "Can you keep a secret?"
Jordan eyes glittered and he nodded enthusiastically, closing the gap between you further.
"I think I went on a date last night." You said with a grin.
Jordan's expression changed, a slight quiver on his brow. He straightened up and cleared his throat, "You think you did?"
"Well, yeah. It wasn't described as a date or anything...but it was nice. We talked and got to know each other." You paused, wondering how detailed you should be.
"Sorry, I just find it hard to believe that you went on a date." He looked away from you and began rummaging through one of the large tool boxes that were lined up along the side of the wall.
You twisted your mouth, "What is that supposed to mean?"
"Well, it's you, you know. You're...Y/N. You don't go on dates."
You stepped towards him, "And what? You don't think there would be any chance that someone...anyone...would be interested in me?"
He turned his head, "That's not what I mean."
"Well, that's what it sounds like to me."
Jordan sighed and straightened up, "Y/N, come on. Stop acting like a g-"
"Like a girl? Is that what you're about to say?"
"No, that's...well, to be honest, yeah."
You could feel anger rising in your chest, "Surprise surprise, Jordan. I am a girl."
You watched as Jordan attempted to backtrack his words, "No, you're taking this all wrong. I'm just saying that I'm surprised that someone asked you out."
"You're not helping yourself here, Jordan. You're being an asshole. Someone did ask me out...and he is interested in me."
"Are you sure?"
"Why did he kiss me then?"
Jordan's eyebrows jumped up, "Oh, right."
"You're a jerk." Turning on your heels, you headed into the office, not waiting for Jordan's response.
As you reached the door, you swung it open with force, letting it slam once you were safely inside the cosy room.
Your Dad jumped a little in his seat, "Woah, what's up, sport?"
"Sorry, Dad...I just needed to get out of there." You said as you slumped down in the chair next to him.
"Wanna talk about it?"
You shook your head gently, "Not really."
You exhaled slowly, flicking mindlessly through the diary, checking your jobs for the next few days. Your eyes were scanning the words on the pages in front of you but your mind was elsewhere. Usually, you didn't let other people's opinions matter but Jordan had hit a nerve with you. Was it because you cared what Jordan thought of you? You had always got on well with Jordan, harmlessly flirting occasionally, but nothing had ever come of it. Maybe his outburst was out of jealousy, or maybe he really didn't see you in that way. Was it because you were starting to really like Travis? He was the first person who seemed to genuinely like you regardless of your appearance or personality. But something was stopping you. You weren't Travis' usual type; you didn't wear a lot of make-up or really care about what you were wearing on a day-to-day basis.
"Dad, do you ever wish that I was...more girly?"
Your Dad turned to look at you, concern plastered across his face, "What's this about?"
"Just answer the question."
He took a deep breath, as if preparing his answer, "There was a time when I was worried. When all of the other little girls were having sleepovers and horse riding lessons or going to ballet class and I looked at you, covered in oil and repairing your bike in your overalls and baseball cap." He chuckled at the memory, "But you never let it bother you. You liked being you and I wouldn't change you for the world."
You smiled as he wheeled his chair closer to you and threw his arm around the back of your neck, pulling you in and laying a kiss on the top of your head.
The moment was interrupted by the shop door opening and a young man walking in, struggling with a giant bouquet of flowers in his arms. Your Dad stood from his chair and assisted him to settle them on top of the counter.
"Flowers? Here? Are you sure?" Your Dad joked.
The young man smiled and pointed to the delivery note in his hand, "KC Auto Repairs? They're for Y/N. Later."
You watched him leave with your eyebrows lowered, surprised and confused, "For me?"
Your Dad craned his neck, retrieving the card that was stuck in the middle of the mass of beautiful blooms, "Well, who are they from?"
You took the card from his hand, carefully opening the crisp white envelope and scanning the contents.
"There's 2 tickets for Sunday's game with your name on. TK."
A smile tugged at the corners of your mouth and your heart leapt at Travis' kind gesture.
"TK? Is that...is that Travis Kelce?" He held a shaky finger towards the card.
You smirked as you continued to stare at the card, the fingers on your free hand dancing over the petals, "Erm...yeah."
"Wow. It seems you've certainly made an impression on him." He pulled you closer, "Who are you taking to the game then?"
You faced him with wide eyes, "Are you joking? You, you dummy!"
Your Dad let out a loud roar of laughter before breaking out into an impressive celebratory song and dance, "I'm going to Arrowhead!"
The office door squeaked open and you rolled your eyes slightly when Jordan poked his head into the room. Turning away from him, you stuffed the small card back into the envelope before admiring the flowers.
"Sorry, can I just get the keys for the Buick?" He mumbled.
Your Dad stopped dancing, opening the small cabinet that was hanging on the wall. He fished out the correct car keys before grinning to Jordan, "You'll never guess what, Jordan? Our Y/N here has an admirer!"
"She does?" He said, emotionless.
"Travis fucking Kelce!" He yelled.
"Dad!" You shouted in shock. You weren't used to hearing your Dad using language like that. He certainly didn't use it around you.
"I'm sorry, sport. I'm just so excited!" He slapped Jordan lightly on the chest, "I'm going to Arrowhead, man! Kelce's special guests!"
Jordan's eyes met with yours and you spotted the realisation as it hit him.
"Well, good luck to you." He nodded his head slowly before taking the keys and disappearing back to the shop floor.
There was a slightly uncomfortable silence before your Dad snorted a small laugh, "What was that about?"
"I don't know." You shrugged your shoulders and began chewing on your bottom lip, "Hey Dad, is it okay if I go take lunch now?"
"Sure, sport."
You smiled and grabbed your hoodie, quickly tying it around your waist and making sure your cell phone was in your overall pocket. As you pushed the door to the shop open, the bright midday sun warmed your face instantly. You began walking down the road with your phone gripped in your hand, Travis' contact showing on the screen and your head whirring with thoughts. After a few seconds you took a deep breath and pressed dial, lifting the phone up to your ear.
You weren't sure why you were so nervous, you had called Travis before. This time it was different, though. The dynamic had changed between you and this was something you really weren't used to.
The dial tone stopped after only a couple of seconds and Travis' low voice echoed into your ear, "Hello?"
"Hi, Travis. It's Y/N."
"Ahhh, you like the flowers?"
You could hear him smiling as he spoke, which made your stomach fill with butterflies, "That was a real smooth move, Kelce. I see you, getting in good with the Dad first, huh?"
He laughed, "You see right through me. So, are you coming?"
"I am."
"Are you excited for your first football game? I got you seats in the friends and family box so it won't be the true fan experience down in the stands, but I figured your Dad would be happy."
Your heart warmed, "You really didn't have to do this."
"I know I didn't." He said abruptly. "I wanted to."
You could feel your cheeks blushing and your heart rate increasing.
"So, you gotta put me out of my misery." He purred, "When can I take you out for a real date?"
Your teeth clamped down on themselves, apprehension and nerves filling your body, "I'm free tonight?"
"Tonight it is."
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I think I figured this one out, and I think I've got the rest of story in my head. But please feel free to send any burning ideas you have for this one. Because you know what I'm like, this will end up with a thousand chapters if I don't rein myself in. Quick warning for the next chapter...it's about to get spicy! Let me know if you want to be added to my Taglist too, that way you'll never miss any of my fics!!
Taglist @rd14 @dandelionwrites8 @keiva1000 @fantasywritersstuff @caelipartem @anacarangel @she-lives-in-her-dreams @kkrenae @kristencochefski1125 @countrygirl120983 @charmed2000 @nouis-bum @cixrosie @delicateearthquakellama @wordsaresimple-imnot @amylouwho9 @queenisa17 @talicat713 @luvvtrent @purecinnamonextract @savaneafricaine @caelipartem @beyxgrande @caitdaniels @ezgirl1108 @vir-tual @lightsoutstyles @macey234 @s294749w @kelcemesoftly @calirindo @livinginmyfantasies @bernelflo @secretmywritingfictionlawyer @killatravtramp @there-goes-thefighter @unicornblueberry @calirindo @tjkelce87 @kristinamae093 @kmc1989 @ajbird18 @triski73 @ctn26 @kgcaputo07 @abby-splace @bobthe-turmpetman29 @cedricbitch @abby-splace @jmamas92 @bellstwd @killatravsworld @marchmaiden @chimchimmarie @blackstabbath6 @fanficfanatic15 @jessiemariebarnes @mmb219 @vanwritesfan-fiction @futebollover @ks-dreams-fantasies @laurenmcucm @blackstabbath6
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happyheidi · 9 months
Note
Did your partner try to kill you 😶😮😲🤯😩😭
Yes. Twice. First a car “accident” (that actually ended up in two papers here in Norway). He drove a huge Honda right into a little fence in record speed and it turned 180* degrees in the air and we ended up upside down. It was so weird because the medic said “it’s very important to use a seatbelt but in this specific instance if u had worn one ur neck would’ve cracked and u would most likely die. It’s important to wear a seatbelt at any time but this specific time it was actually good that u didn’t wear it”. HOW INSANE? I remember we told our parents when we had this “meeting” after this and no one believed it (not that it matters but I was just so stunned by it) but pls use a seatbelt!! This it not an anti-seatbelt announcement (wear ur seatbelt! Seriously!!!). I’m just relaying what he told me.
And the other time (I went back u see. Cus im an idiot u see…) and when I wanted to end it he said a version of the “if I can’t have u no one will” shit and stood there with a knife and said “well then one of us has to go” (and u know what ‘go’ means…) and I remember being really scared he was gonna hurt moffe (my dog) which he was always jealous of (imagine being jealous by a 3 kilo dog jeez man…) but yeah it was a little knife fight and it ended with the police (I called) and I had to walk to my dad in the coldest of winter. around 2 a clock at night I remember. It was legally his apartment after all. The rich wins. The cops didn’t even give me a ride. It was so cold I remember having to carry Moffe a lot of the way.. in the middle of the night. But I did love him at some point. He was the love of my life in many ways. I’m very glad I experienced that. I’m just sad it had to be such a dramatic ending.
I was always the “free spirit” so everyone including myself was very surprised when I ended up in a relationship. (I first started dating him when I was 16, we ended it when I was maybe 20, then two years without him and back at it again for a couple years) But I loved him a lot and I wish him all the best. I have no angry feelings towards him. I wasn’t an angel either. Tho it didn’t have to end like it did.
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babygirlbites · 10 months
Text
Wolves and their star signs
Hello my little cherubs - how are we doing ? I hope we are doing well
Are we pretending I haven’t been gone for years? Absolutely!
Anyway, let’s talk star signs real quick. None of this is based on canon birthdays, I’m simply beyond Stephanie and her knowledge of her own characters.
These are MY opinions, which are fact as I am factually never wrong. However you are welcome to discuss
Jacob is a Leo; bold, stubborn, natural born leader. this man has main characteritis for sure. I’ve never met a Leo man who didn’t think he was always correct and was so headstrong about it, even when being actively proven wrong. I feel like Jake could wake up one morning and decide the sky is red and anyone who disagreed or god forbid brought factual evidence to him that disproved this would be ignored AND judged. However, Leo’s are loyal (to a fault, often) so although he’s headstrong he’s a ride or die for sure. If he likes you he is going to defend you against anything (excluding himself though because remember, he’s always right) and if he LOVES YOU pfft, I wouldn’t be messing with a Leo’s lover that’s for sure.
Sam is a Pisces; emotional, calm, strong willed. ugh, where do i start. Pisces are so emotional, which may seem like a good thing but I promise you those Pisces men can and will use this to manipulate, gaslight and gatekeep. He’s artistic though, and generally a reliable gent, but sometimes he can be a real nasty little man. He’s sly about his anger, he isn’t a shouting/agressive man at all, he would never DREAM of hurting you (the Emily situation will not repeat) but he can make you feel like shit emotionally. Pisces are just too clever idk I don’t mean to slander you all but as an aqua woman yous are real difficult
Embry is an Aquarius; Creative, smart, thinks outside the box, independent . He’s sensitive, but only when he’s close enough to you to allow you too see that. Aqua knows aqua, I know this boy would be super hard to get into the inner circle of. Sure, he’s openly friendly to everyone, but only the small few that HE allows close will see the real him. Once you do though, he’s an open book, belly laughing at your shitty dad jokes and ugly crying at pet rehoming tiktoks on his fyp.
Paul is a Gemini; loud, fun, and maybe a bit toxic. now I did debate aries for Paul but I just think he’s an air sign through and through. Sure, he’s firey as hell, but he’s so charming and no Aries has that level of rizz (sorry guys but the truth hurts sometimes). He’s a player through and through, he’s got a contacts list full of girls under code names like “girl from Seattle” or “drives a Honda” - which the feminist in me has an issue with but I can’t lie I love a Gemini. They are feral, and as long as you can prepare for that, then they will be the most fun you ever have. Just don’t get attached, or do, I can’t tell you what to do!
Jared is a libra; fun, lighthearted and emotionally wrecked. I love libras but damn do you guys wear your hearts on your sleeves! You’re so easily hurt, and you’ve BEEN hurt, and guess what? You’ll get hurt again. I feel like Jared’s the kind of guy to get played by the same girl/guy multiple times but still tell everyone they are his “twin flame”. Please treat this boy right - I don’t know if he can take the heartbreak (he can, and it will NOT put him off)
Quil is a cancer; he’s soft, he’s loving and he’s emotionally enlightened! We love a cancer in this house, emotional like a Pisces but open like a libra, a cancer is the right mix of mature and fun. They are sweet and sensitive and if any star sign is going to be an empath, it’s cancer. I feel like quil is the guy you go too when you’ve just found out something awful - all the guys would be there for you but where Paul or Jake or Sam even would blow a gasket and leave you alone while then went out on a rampage to hurt whomever was unlucky enough to hurt the one they love, Quil would take you in, cook for you and listen to whatever you had to say. Of course, he’s angry someone has upset you, but he’s more bothered that you are okay then that they aren’t. He’s a good guy, that’s all.
Leah is a Taurus; strong willed, well routed and stubborn. She’s practical, she’s gonna tell you straight up what she thinks with no filter, and sometimes that can hurt. She’s not the biggest personality in the room or the loudest voice at the party but she’s straight to the point and not afraid to be heard when she sees fit. She’s fun too, when she wants to be and with whom she wants to be. Under all of this though she’s family centred; she will kill for her family (and found family).
Seth is a Virgo; bold, grounded but enchanting. Virgos have a way of capturing a whole room without even having to try, they aren’t brash or loud but they are just so vibrant man idk! There’s something about them. Anyway I think Seth is just a lovely sunshine character, he’s deffo got cancer in his big three too, maybe his moon, but the Virgo energy is there for me. He’s the fun earth sign and he’s not gonna let you forget it
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lolahasmoxie · 2 years
Text
Sleep Tight - E.M.
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Pairing: Single Dad Eddie Munson x Fem Reader
Word Count: 3.8K (this may have gotten away from me)
Warning: fluff, idiots to lovers, a couple of curse words
Notes: This has been living in my brain for days, and I had to get it out. So everywhere I've read Eddie as a dad, he has a little girl. Don't get me wrong, I love it. But can you imagine him with a little boy who is his tiny doppelganger? Dead.
For this, I picture Eddie and Reader as having known each other since they were kids, and both were close growing up. Eddie flunked his first senior year, and reader graduated and left Hawkins for college. They kept in touch for a while but eventually drifted apart. She returns to Hawkins and reconnects with Eddie and his 4-year-old son. Mom has been out of the picture since he was born, and I picture Eddie as a mechanic who plays with Corroded Coffin on the weekends.
Eddie and Reader are 28 in this (takes place in 1994). An AU where the Upside Down doesn't exist, and Eddie lives.
Divider from @firefly-graphics
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"Daddy, rain!"
Eddie and Y/N paused from the couch as they looked at the small four-year-old excitedly pointing out the window. The rain shouldn't have been a surprise; it had been gray and overcast all day. Eddie walked over to the front window, looked outside, and noticed a bright flash of lightning followed by thunder less than three seconds later. Before he could say anything, the skies opened up, and a torrential downpour began to beat on his roof.
"Crap, I should probably leave if I'm gonna make it home in one piece," Y/n pondered as she joined the two Munson boys at the window.
"Are you insane? There's no way I'm letting you leave now." Y/N had joined Eddie at his home for dinner instead of at Benny's due to his son's babysitter canceling last minute. The three had spent the evening playing, eating pizza, and finally settling to watch Ghostbusters. She had been on the verge of excusing herself for the evening when the storm had come upon them.
"Eds, my car will be fine. Besides, I can't stay the night." Y/N casually tried to motion to his son, who was now staring at her and preparing himself to bring out the big guns.
"But I thought we were having fun." Ronnie Wayne Munson was his father on a 24-year delay. He had the same wild curly brown hair and brown cow eyes as Eddie, and based on how he looked at Y/N, she knew his father had taught him how to use them to his advantage.
"Look, far be it for me to question the integrity of your Honda, but it’s not like this would be the first time you had to stay; you used to crash all the time when we were kids. Besides, it's unsafe to be on the road right now. You can't even see the house across the street!". Y/N turned back towards the window, and she had to admit that Eddie was right. Even with streetlights, the house across the street was nearly impossible to see. She sighed before looking at Eddie and his boy standing next to him, both with expectant looks on their eager faces.
"Okay, I'll stay."
"Hooray!" Ronnie yelled as he ran up to give her a hug. Eddie beamed at Ronnie. He was usually reserved around new people, but as soon as Y/N had reappeared in Hawkins two months ago after a ten-year absence, Ronnie had taken an instant liking to her. The little boy seemed as infatuated with her as his father had been years before.
"So, how late is this party going to go on?" Y/N asked as Ronnie climbed back onto the couch.
"Well, little man's bedtime is usually 7pm..." Ronnie looked at Eddie with a sad face. Y/N had just agreed to stay the night; it was unfair that he would have to go to bed soon. "but since tonight is a special occasion, I think we can watch one more movie."
"Yes!" Y/N couldn't help but chuckle as Ronnie did a triumphant dance before jumping off the couch. "Can we watch Nightmare Before Christmas?"
"Sure, let's get you into your jammies."
"I'll make the popcorn." Y/N motioned to the kitchen, and Eddie quickly told her where everything was. As she popped the bag in the microwave, she couldn't help but smile at the giggles emanating from Ronnie's bedroom. Eddie now lived in a small house on a quiet street near the edge of town, which felt warm and cozy like his and Wayne's old trailer. The coffee rack in the kitchen now held Eddie's mugs instead of Wayne's, and his beloved Sweetheart sat in the corner of the living room next to his acoustic and amp. Above the well-loved couch were numerous pictures, ranging from Eddie's graduation to him holding his newborn son in the hospital. There were several with the two of them and Wayne, and even one of her and Eddie from back in 83.
The sound of little feet coming from the hallway pulled her from her thoughts, and soon she was greeted by Ronnie, who was now wearing dinosaur pajamas. He ran up to her and wrapped his arms around her leg. He leaned up to give her a big toothy grin.
"Hi," he said cheerfully, and Y/N couldn't help but chuckle.
"Well, don't you look comfy? You ready for the movie?" He nodded gleefully as the timer for the microwave went off. She carefully removed the bag and poured the contents into a bowl, handing it to Ronnie when he made it clear that he had to help her. "Two hands, go slow, ok?". He nodded, his little tongue sticking out in concentration as he made the short journey to the living room. They both sat on the couch while Eddie quickly popped the VHS into the tape player, pausing to turn off the living room lights before he sat down.
Ronnie sat between the two of them, and the three of them snacked as they watched the movie. The kid was on cloud nine, happily eating popcorn and singing along to the movie. Eddie's arm eventually rested on the back of the couch, causing Y/N to blush whenever his fingertips brushed the top of her shoulder. When the popcorn was gone, the bowl was moved to the side, and Ronnie took this as his cue to make himself more comfortable.
"Whoa, we don't climb on our guests." Eddie chided as he watched his son climb onto Y/N's lap. He was worried it would make her uncomfortable, but he was pleasantly surprised when she put her feet on the coffee table and wrapped her arms around Ronnie's stomach, letting him rest his back against her chest.
"He's fine, now hush."
"Yeah, Daddy, the movie's on." Eddie's eyes bulged from being sassed by not only his son but also his childhood friend. As the evening progressed, he kept stealing glances at the two of them. From the way Y/N would rub Ronnie's stomach to how they would occasionally whisper and giggle with each other, his emotions were all over the place. As the rain continued to beat against the roof, Ronnie eventually gave in to sleep. When the credits finally rolled, he was sleeping contentedly on Y/N's lap, her hand rubbing over his tummy soothingly.
"That kid usually has to be dragged kicking and screaming to go to bed," Eddie commented as he gingerly reached over to take Ronnie from Y/N. She grinned as she handed him over, stretching her arms above her head once he was safely in his father's arms. "Hey, once I get him in bed, would you be up for a movie?" he asked hopefully.
"Sure. Do you have anything I could change into?"
"I've got you, be right back." Y/N watched as he disappeared down the hallway into Ronnie's room. To be honest, when she had run into Eddie on her first day back in town, she had expected it to be awkward. After all, they hadn't seen each other in ten years. Yet, in the two months they had spent reconnecting, it felt like no time had passed at all. They quickly fell back into their dynamic, which had been created over numerous sleepovers and hangouts during their childhood. When Eddie returned to the living room he held up a clothing item in each hand.
"Okay, so the boxers are old and very stretched out, but they're clean, and the shirt was a gag gift from Henderson."
"Gag gift?" she asked, and had to bite her lip when Eddie unfurled an oversized shirt that had "Virginia is for Lovers" emblazoned across the front. "That is amazing."
"Go change; I'll pick the movie. Horror okay?" Y/N nodded as she shuffled into the bathroom. Eddie hummed to himself as he tried to pick a movie for them to watch. He was mentally preparing to keep his cool when he heard the bathroom door open a few minutes later. Whatever composure he had quickly flew out the window when he saw her adorned in his clothes, and she looked at him expectedly as she waited for him to say something. "Um, everything fits ok?"
"Yeah, the boxers are a tad tight around the thighs, but it's no biggie. Now, what are we watching?"
"Well, I don't know about you, but I haven't seen "The Thing" in ages."
"Fuck," she chuckled as she sat back down on the couch. "I think the last time I saw it was with you." Eddie popped in the video and sat next to Y/N.
"Well then, let's get to it, shall we?" The movie started, but it wasn't long before Eddie and Y/N started talking. Old inside jokes and stories passed between them, quickly resulting in giggles that they tried to keep quiet so they wouldn't wake Ronnie. When the movie ended, they kept talking, the rain becoming static noise as their conversation moved to their love lives.
"Wait, he cheated on you?" Eddie asked incredulously as Y/N took a sip from her beer.
"Yeah, had a side piece for like two months before he finally had the balls to break up with me. You want to know something funny?" Eddie shook his head as he watched her settle into the cushions more, a sigh leaving her lips. "I wasn't even that mad about it."
"You'd been with the guy for over the year, and he cheated; I'm shocked you didn't set his car on fire. Fuck, Jason Carver started that rumor about you sophomore year, and you took a bat to his headlights." Y/N giggled at the memory.
"I also told the cheerleading team he had a micro-penis, but that's not the point. And don't get me wrong, it sucked that he didn't have the balls to just break up when he realized he didn't want me anymore. But, in the end, I wasn't angry like I thought I would be."
"You were together a while, though." Y/N sighed as she thought over her response.
"When I was little, I remember asking my Mom why she married my Dad. She said it was because she felt this spark every time she saw him; she said she knew from their first date that he was the one for her. Over a year with Daniel, and I never once had that feeling." She paused as she turned to look at Eddie. "Did you ever feel that way with Ronnie's mom?"
"Veronica?" asked before running a hand over his hair, letting out a heavy sigh as he thought about his son's mother. "We weren't together long before we found out she was pregnant, we hadn't been very serious before, but since there was a kid on the way, we decided to give it a shot. Turns out we were two puzzle pieces from two different puzzles."
"When did she leave?"
"Left when Ronnie was 3 months old. Said motherhood wasn't for her, and she felt it would be best if Ronnie didn't grow up with a Mom who resented him." Y/N nodded in understanding before letting out a loud yawn. "Alright, that's enough sad shit for tonight. Let's call it a night."
"Just toss me a pillow and blanket, and I'll be fine out here."
"Or," Eddie started with a hopeful gleam in his eye. "We could make this like old times, and we can share my bed." She raised an eyebrow at him, and he put his hands up defensively to plead his case. "I know what you're thinking, but we won't be crammed on a double like old times. I upgraded to a Queen and," he paused as he let out a puff of air. "would be nice to have someone else in the bed, you know?" The air was tense for a moment, but it disappeared for Eddie when she gave him a sleepy smile and motioned for him to lead the way.
Eddie's room was different now that he was an adult. The bed was on a frame instead of the floor, and the tan-colored walls had pictures of Ronnie and Wayne instead of metal band posters. He had a tall dresser, and above it was a small bulletin board covered in concert tickets and wristbands. It was surrounded by Corroded Coffin fliers for The Hideout, where the boys still played when they had the time. Y/N stood quietly in the doorway while watching Eddie pull back the comforter.
"Alright, any preference on a side, m'lady?"
"I'll take the right side. And I swear to God, if you dutch oven me, I’m gonna punch you right in the dick."
"Holy shit. I did that once, and in my defense, it was over 15 years ago."
"It was traumatic. Smelled like a sumo wrestler took a dump on a burning pile of hair." She giggled as Eddie tossed a pillow at her.
"The fuck it did; it was not that bad."
"Well, it didn't sell like sunshine and roses either!" Her giggles stopped as they both stood on opposite sides of the bed. He looked at her like he wanted to say something, and she found herself unable to look away as she returned his gaze. It was over in a second as he shook his head and motioned for her to climb in.
"Fair warning, Ronnie is an early bird and will likely be in here at an ungodly hour."
"Thanks for the warning," she replied as she yawned, feeling sleep calling for her as she savored the perfection that was Eddie's bed. Their backs were towards each other as he leaned over and turned off the bedside lamp, the only light now coming from the slivers of moonlight through the window. Just before she succumbed to sleep, she heard Eddie's soft voice in the quiet of the room.
"Night, Y/N."
"Night, Eddie."
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It started when she heard crying in her dreams, but what fully woke her was Eddie getting out of bed. It was only then that she realized the crying was coming from Ronnie's room. She followed him, Ronnie's cries pulling at her heart as she wondered what could have possibly haunted him in his sleep. She stood in the doorway of his room, watching Eddie with Ronnie in his arms.
"Come on little man, it's okay. I've got you, bud." Eddie ran a hand over his son's back as he paced the room, pausing when he saw Y/N in the doorway. "Shit, I didn't mean to wake you." Before she could respond, Ronnie realized she was in the room. Fidgeting in Eddie's hold, he held his arms out for Y/N. Eddie saw a look of shock take hold of her, but it was gone in a flash. Before he could blink, she had Ronnie's small body against her chest as she started cooing in a soothing voice.
"Now, what has you crying so hard, huh?" Y/N rubbed Ronnie's back as his sobs began to turn to soft cries. She turned to exit the room, and Eddie followed like a sailor caught by a siren. He watched as she walked past the living room into the kitchen. She pulled a carton of milk from his fridge, now holding his son on her hip as if that was where he was always supposed to be. "Eddie, where do you keep your glasses?"
Snapping out of his trance, he shuffled across the kitchen to stand behind Y/N. He reached up to open the cabinet, a hand on her shoulder as he pulled down three glasses. He watched as she lined them up before opening the milk jug and pouring it until all three glasses were full. She motioned to the microwave, and Eddie nodded. As he set the timer Y/N placed Ronnie on the counter and cradled his face, her thumbs gently wiping his tear-stained cheeks.
"Wanna tell us what woke you up?"
"We were at the park, and I couldn't find you or daddy when it was time to go. I kept yelling, but you weren't there." A new round of tears was about to fall, but she simply smiled as she took Ronnie's hands in hers.
"Don't cry, your Daddy and I are right here. See?" Ronnie looked from Y/N to his father, and Eddie gave him a small smile and wave as the timer for the microwave went off. Eddie brought the glasses over, and Y/N took one and held it to Ronnie. He took it and looked up at Y/N.
"What's this?"
"When I was little and I had bad dreams, my mom would give me a glass of warm milk. Then we would turn the TV on and watch it until I got sleepy. Sound like something you would be interested in?" Ronnie nodded as he lifted the glass to his lips. Y/N and Eddie did the same, and when they were done, she lifted Ronnie from the counter and carried him to the living room. "Your dad will find something good for us to watch, right?"
"Comfort TV, coming right up." Y/N sat with Ronnie's little head against her chest, her hand running over his back as Eddie found a rerun of The Addams Family on Nick at Nite. From his spot crouched on the floor, so many thoughts ran through his head as he watched Y/N comfort his son; he couldn't quite catch what they all were. But despite the late hour, he knew deep down that it felt right.
It took almost an hour for Ronnie to fall asleep, and by the time he had, Y/N was leaning heavily against Eddie's arm. She had spent nearly the entire time talking to him softly and rubbing his back. Eddie shut the TV off as Y/N carefully walked to Ronnie's room. She carefully placed him in his bed, covering him with his blanket before she ran her hand over his soft brown hair. Content that he would be asleep until the morning, she stood and noticed Eddie watching her from the doorway. He was wearing the same expression he'd had before they'd gone to bed. She gave him a soft smile before walking past him to his bedroom.
She heard Eddie close Ronnie's door, but before she reached the bed, she felt his hand on her wrist. She turned and, seeing his expression, her brows furrowed in curiosity as he pulled her closer. She called his name but lost her voice when he raised his hand. It cradled her jaw, his thumb running over her cheek as his eyes bore down. He lowered his head, and without saying a word, he pressed his lips to hers.
Y/N had wondered multiple times growing up what it would be like to kiss Eddie Munson; she figured that just came with having a best friend of the opposite sex. But as his other hand came to cradle her face, she realized that this moment was miles better than anything her schoolgirl imagination could concoct. Her eyes closed as his lips trailed to her cheeks, followed by her nose and forehead. She felt her heart racing when he rested his forehead against hers.
"I love you."
"Eddie,"
"Since I was 10 years old. Fuck," he chuckled as he reached down and took her hands. "I think I loved you before I even knew what that was." The room was quiet as they stood there in the dark, and Eddie wondered if he had royally screwed everything up because she wasn't saying anything. Then he felt her thumb run over the back of his hand.
"You didn't say anything," she said softly. Her eyes now were looking into his. "You let me leave for Chicago without saying anything."
"I know. Hands down, one of the worst moments in my life was watching you drive away."
"But why?" she implored. "Why wouldn't you say something?" Eddie sighed as he looked down at the floor. He only spoke when he felt her squeeze his hand.
"You were always better than Hawkins, better than me. You were destined for fancy dinner parties where assholes like me just serve the drinks." Eddie was no stranger to rejection in his life; he often wondered if it was just a part of his DNA at this point. Then he felt her hand cup his chin, forcing his face to look at her.
"It's sweet you think so highly of me, but I don't want any of that, not if you're not next to me to enjoy said drinks." Before Eddie could respond, she pulled his face down and kissed him. His hands found their way to her hips, her shirt bunching in his hold when she pressed her tongue against the seam of his lips. There was no rush, no hurry as they kissed in the dark. Eddie felt what Y/N's mother had talked about, a spark he could only hope she felt in return. When she pulled her lips away, he pulled her body closer. He pressed his nose into her neck as she ran a hand over his hair.
"Let's go out on Friday."
"A date?" she asked hopefully. She felt him nod as she felt him inhale deeply.
"A proper date, the one I should have asked you on in high school," he said as he rose to his full height. "It's been a while since Ronnie's had a sleepover at Wayne's; we'll do dinner and a movie; what do you say?"
"Pick me up at 7, and you have yourself a deal." Eddie beamed down at her before leaning down to steal another kiss.
"We'd better get some sleep before my demon spawn wakes us up at an ungodly hour." Y/N chuckled as they both climbed into the bed. Instead of sleeping back to back, now she was curled into Eddie's side, her head on his chest and her arm slung over his torso. The feel of his fingers tracing over her arm made her eyes droop, and as she drifted off into sleep, she could faintly feel his lips on her head as he whispered unheard words to her.
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Eddie woke when the sun from the window moved over his face. He first noticed that his arms no longer held Y/N, and he wondered for a brief moment if it had all been a wonderful dream. But then he felt a slight movement to his left. Y/N was sleeping on her side, facing him, and between them was Ronnie. His son was sprawled on his back, his sleep shirt had ridden up to show his stomach, and his tiny hand was holding onto Y/N's even in sleep. He knew in an instant that was what he wanted to wake up to every day for the rest of his life.
Tonight, when Wayne came to visit, he was going to ask for his grandmother's ring. Eddie knew he wasn't the smartest guy in the world, but he was sure of this. He was going to make Y/N his wife before the year was out.
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theblue6ook · 7 months
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The Young Years PT 2
Summary: This is a prequel to "Shit Interview" in the "Out of My League" series. Read about Bruce and Y/N in their troubled tweens. What about their past makes them work so well together? You'll find out. (Hint: they've both been through major struggles.)
Pairing: Bruce Wayne x fem!reader
a/n: There's some alcoholism, guns, and daddy issues in this. You've been warned. [Eventual slow burn with Bruce]
Daddy Issues [B(14) Y/N(12)]
The cold pricked at her face, and snow seeped into her old rain boots. Her hands gripped the flannel with all her might and pulled. No dice. She tried again and pulled... nothing. Sighing, she turned toward the house and saw her brother's eyes peeking out the front window. No, I can’t leave him out here. This time, she stepped into the garage and grabbed a sled.
“Come on, Dad,” she said as she approached him. “Let’s get you onto the sled just- ugh- Come on, old man, help me help you.” Her father, in his drunken state, pulled himself out of the snow and onto the sled. Slowly, they made their way towards the house. 
She had sweat dripping down her back, but with minimal help from her father, they made it through the front door and onto the rug by the stairs. He passed out immediately.
“Listen, boys,” she sighed and turned to her brothers, “I have to go to the shop, but I wrapped some sandwiches and put them in the fridge for dinner. Eat and sleep, you hear me… and don’t wake up Dad. He’ll probably sleep there until tomorrow.”
“But you just got off your shift at Dorthie’s Flowers,” her brother Eric looked up at her. 
“I know, but Dad needs our help right now, so I have to double up.”
Both of her brothers looked at each other, unsure. Y/N gave them each a hug and stepped past her father and out the door.
She trudged through the snow to her dad's mechanic shop just down the block. After her mom ran out on them, her father was in a tough place, to say the least. So his good friend Ronnie took it upon himself to manage the shop. Ronnie was somewhat of an irresponsible uncle to Y/N. He cared a lot about her father, a lot, so, naturally, he cared about his kids, but when it came to advice, Ronnie wasn’t exactly the best influence.
They slowly worked in silence on a Purple Honda Odyssey. Ronnie was changing the tires as Y/N worked on the oil change. The silence felt good. Y/N needed to get away from everything for a bit. Working on cars did that for her.
“How’s your dad been?” he asked, breaking the silence. “Are you guys still having trouble with the bills?”
She sighed, “If he could come back to work, we’d have double the money, and maybe we wouldn’t have problems with bills.”
“Listen, kid, your dad has been through it, and he’s lucky to have you,” he seemed unsure, rubbing his chin. “You know there are other ways to make money quick.”
“Yeah, right, I’m already working two jobs,” she looked over at him. He looked like he knew something she didn’t. “Like what, Ronnie?”
“Nah. You’re too young for this conversation.”
“Like what,” she repeated. “Do you want us to starve?”
He was silent for a while and then eventually said, “You know, I know you’re good at working on cars, but how are you at driving them?”
“I’m twelve."
“Your dad hasn’t put you behind the wheel even once?” The look she gave him confirmed what he was thinking.
“You know how I always say when you know how cars purr on the inside, you drive them better on the outside.”
“Where is this going? Does this have a point?”
“You ever heard of drag racing?”
-
He claimed he didn’t mean to kill them. Then, why would you pull the trigger? He claims prison has shown him a different light. Well then, I can put you in the ground. 
Bruce sits silently, watching his parents' murderer spew nonsense. He was on the run for a month before he was caught when Bruce was eight. Alfred had hoped that would be the end of it little did he know, Bruce would be the end of it. He was ready to end it officially, and he didn’t care what would happen to him after. Rachel sat next to him, trying to offer support, and Alfred sat on the other side.
I could do it. I could do it right now. I could shoot him. He felt the cold metal against his hipbone, stuffed into the waist of his pants. A gun he had found after cracking his father's safe. In a way, it was poetic he would die at the hand of his father's own weapon. How this asshole got off with a life sentence, plus a possibility of parole, he would never know. Doesn’t matter now though. He sat and waited for a good moment. He sat and waited… and waited… and waited…
The trial was ending in no time, and the gun felt heavier and heavier. He started to sweat; he started to panic. He has to do this. He has to. Alfred noticed his panic and went to pat Bruce’s leg in reassurance, but the motion made the gun slip further down, barely holding onto the top of his pants… when Alfred felt it. Bruce knew he felt it, and there was a sole-sucking silence between them. 
Alfred looked at him, panicked and disappointed from the corner of his eye. He held Bruce’s arm by the bicep hard and started breathing heavily. As people started to filter out of the courtroom, Bruce remained silent, staring forward, and Alfred nodded towards Rachel in a goodbye as he pulled Bruce up and out of the courthouse. He had him by the bicep all the way to the car. 
He shoved Bruce passed multiple reporters and newscasters, and straight into the back of the Rolls Royce. Bruce noticed when he sat down that the weight was gone. Alfred stepped into the front of the tinted car, leaning back into the driver's seat.
“Where did my-”
“Sometimes I think you forget I was a part of the Royal Marines.” Alfred easily slipped the magazine out of the gun. He huffed, “You don’t- You don’t ever touch a gun. Do you understand me? Where did you even get this?”
“That asshole deserves it!”
“WHERE DID YOU GET THIS?”
“IT WAS DAD’S,” he called out.
Alfred sighed, pulling away from the crowd of people, “You really think this is what your father would have wanted? You going to prison for the rest of your life? To kill someone?”
“You wouldn’t understand. You weren’t there-”
“I’ve seen death! It is nothing to think about when you’re fourteen years old. It’s something no one should ever think about.”
“It’s all I think about! Do you think this has been easy for me? They were actually considering offering him parole! It wasn’t an accident. He meant to kill them, and I’ll prove it to you.”
“I think you need a break. I think you need to get away from all of this. Let’s take time off; let’s go somewhere.”
Bruce knew where he needed to go, but he definitely wouldn’t be taking time off.
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f1rewalk3r · 6 months
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since apparently this is what i’m known for: What Motorcycle I think each member of the PRT ENE would ride:
Armsmaster: Canonically rides a “souped up motorcycle.” obviously this means tinkertech in the parahumans world, but in the biker world this means egregious, stupid custom. so i’m giving him a fat tire Harley Davidson VROD. an ugly bike with an ego for a silly man with an ego
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now what do you get when you cross the most reliable, unkillable dual sport of all time with a diesel engine? you get the Kawasaki KLR-650 HDT, the M1030-M1, a finicky monster used by the US military. perfect for the unkillable Miss Militia, a connoisseur of finicky military equipment. it can go anywhere and use anything for fuel, but it was literally designed to run on jet fuel.
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Velocity’s a speedster right? so obviously he’s gonna get an ultra fast liter bike, super sport, 200hp, etc. WRONG. you fucking idiot. you fucking moron. personally i don’t subscribe to grimdumb f(c?)anon that he perceives real time when he’s speeding. that’s stupid cape design imo. he can go fast as his heart desires with his power. yknow what he can’t do with his power? rip up the fucking motorcross track, doing flips and jumps and shit. radical, man. so he gets a two-stoke ripper, the Yamaha YZ-250.
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Battery, on the other hand, is a girlboss who needs to get stress relief via a supersport liter bike. she’s dealing with assault all day, can you blame her? so she’s getting the Honda CBR1000RR-Fireblade. liquid cooled, 999cc, inline four, with a top speed of 190mph it really doesn’t get much faster than this, folks.
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now if you take the dual sport Kawasaki, give it the suspension of the Yamaha motorcross, but the tires and street performance of the supersport, you get the Supermotard class of bikes. the crackhead hooligans of the bike community, these are the bikes that are doing wheelies in residential areas, jumping over that grassy hill near your office building, and squealing around corners as the back end slips out. can you tell i have a favorite type of bike. now, who’s our resident crackhead of the protectorate? why, Assault, of course! So he’s getting the king of supermotos (and the bike i will probably be purchasing in may), a Suzuki DRZ-400SM
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loud, annoying, and entitled Triumph gets the Harley Davidson Softtail, the bike of choice for obnoxious wannabe hell’s angels, the bike of choice for your balding 50yr old dad, or for the kid who wants so badly to be relevant and accepted amongst the boomers he calls friends. idk where Triumph fits into this its kinda just a vibe yk he’s a nepo baby, he gets a harley
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and finally. the perfect bike for those with mobility issues/those concerned about safety due to preexisting medical conditions, Director Piggot gets a Harley Davidson Trike and she fucking slays on it, understand? girl power.
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i forgot dauntless because he’s boring so he gets a boring adventure bike for boring losers. BMW F650GS. fuck you dauntless you dont even get a fun big BMW you get the heavy underpowered one. go to hell 🖕
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