#porsche POV

[bitacrytic]

Overheat [18]

Read Previous Chapter Here

---

On Monday, Porsche watched TV with Pete the whole day. On Tuesday, they read lines, practicing for the play, regardless of the absence of a director. On Wednesday, he went to sleep in Kinn’s bed, pulling the covers over his head and knowing that even though Kinn liked to begin the night on the far end of the bed, that Porsche would wake up with Kinn’s hands wrapped around his body.

---

---

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

-

"Come with us," Porsche said.

"Go," Vegas replied.

Kun wasn't a fool. He would know that Vegas had called Kinn and Vegas would suffer for it. If Vegas had taken the risk, either way, then he was preparing himself for his father's wrath. Porsche hated that for him. Hated that Vegas wasn't even looking at him when Porsche was talking to him.

Kneeling on the floor, looking like his life was over, Vegas hadn't moved till they left. Porsche wanted to stay and ask why but the minor house was about to be flooded with the tension of Kun's fury. Pete couldn't be present. Pete had to be far away before anything else happened and Kinn wouldn't leave this premises if Porsche was not in the car.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?"

Their entourage of Kinn, Pete, eight bodyguards and Porsche slowed down as Kun accosted them, three doors from the entrance. Kinn stepped around the men carrying Pete, to reach his uncle.

"Are you aware that Pete is my artist?"

"Are you aware," Kun asked back. "That your artist put his hands on me?"

"Uncle-"

"What message are you sending if you let him go?"

"Look at him. He's been punished enough."

"Not in my book," Kun said, walking up to Kinn.

Kun was a spiteful man, wicked to his sons, on a good day. But if there was one person he hated more than Vegas and Macau, it was Kinn. The fact that Kinn had stormed in to release Pete who was essentially Kun's prisoner, was a recipe for disaster.

"I will forgive this disrespect, Kinn. But you will leave him and go."

Porsche was standing way back, having left the dungeon last. But from behind, he could see Kinn's back straighten as he stood before Kun, rising to his full height.

"Will you attack me, Uncle?"

"You came into my home and took something from me. I imagine your father won't take kindly to that."

When Kinn took a step toward Kun, Porsche ran to them, noting Kun's shift of eyes. The moment he saw Porsche, he frowned and looked back at Kinn. Porsche placed a gentle hand on Kinn’s back as he looked at Kun.

"Pete will apologize the moment he has recovered, Uncle Kun," Porsche said. "I will make sure of it."

Kun's face twitched, looking between Porsche and Kinn like he'd been itching for a fight. Kinn had entered his domain with armed guards. If he fought back, he would be well within his rights. And Kinn hadn't even come with enough people to actually cause the minor family harm. If anything, Kun would succeed in thrashing Kinn and his guards, if he had the guts to follow through. And then when he was done, he could send Kinn back to his father, bruised and ashamed but very alive.

Kinn hadn't come for a fight. He'd been hoping a show of force would back Kun down. But, from the way Kun was poised, he was ready for that fight.

"Please," Porsche said, stepping between them.

Kun scowled, rolling his eyes and looking away as he stepped out of Kinn's path. Immediately, Kinn rushed through, taking his men and Pete with him, while Porsche remained behind, to make sure they all made it out without qualms.

As soon as the last man passed and Porsche was about to go, Kun blocked Porsche's path.

"Does your mother know this is what you're doing in your free time?"

"I was just-"

"You're not a kid anymore."

"Pete was in trouble."

"Be careful of your actions, Porsche," Kun said. "Next time, I won't back down. Whether or not you're present."

Dropping his hand, he allowed Porsche to pass. Even as he made his way out the door at a light jog, Porsche didn't breathe until the moment he was safely in the car, and they were driving out of the minor family’s compound.

***

Pete wasn't safe. Not totally.

Kun was a man scorned with an ego the size of Asia. He was going to find a way to get at Pete. Directly or indirectly. Kinn remained at Pete's side, letting no one but Porsche or Pete's doctors see him. Which was okay. Porsche didn't mind spending the remainder of the weekend with Pete. Friday night, Saturday, Sunday, he stayed by Pete. When Pete gained consciousness, Porsche was right by him.

Pete was a sturdy mother fucker. He woke up from two days in a coma, looking around the place like he was merely inspecting the room. As soon as he saw Porsche, he'd relaxed back into his pillow. But that was it. He didn't freak out, didn't try to explain himself, didn't behave like someone who'd just been in a dungeon, getting beaten while naked.

It was all good.

Till Kinn came back into the room, on Sunday night.

"I spoke to the director," he said to Pete. "He knows you're not coming in for the week. They'll be working with understudies."

Pete nodded. He was still in bandages and when he tried to move around the room, he moved with a limp. He needed the rest. A week was perfect.

"You too, Porsche," Kinn said, sitting down on the empty side of the bed, beside Pete.

"What do you mean?" Porsche asked.

"I told the director not to expect you."

"I'm fine, Kinn. I can go to work."

"I don't want you going in alone."

Porsche pursed his lips, looking at Pete, who was looking at him funny. He remembered his last conversation with Pete at rehearsal. How Pete had tried to talk Porsche into standing up for himself. Which was sweet and all, but Pete didn't understand everything, and having this conversation in front of Pete was already triggering a response from Pete. Porsche could see where this would lead, so he got up.

"Can I talk to you outside?" he said. "Please."

As he walked out of the room, Kinn followed.

"I'm not sick. I'm not injured-"

"You're not going."

Porsche looked at the floor, struggling to hold back. He knew what this was. Kinn wouldn't stop testing him, pushing him, just so that Porsche could snap back and Kinn would be justified to claim that Porsche didn't really want him. Which was a lie. Porsche wanted to be with him. He wanted Kinn to be comfortable enough to let go of this phase. But he couldn't push him. Normally, Porsche wouldn't mind. But this was his fucking job.

"I have a rally on Thursday."

"Skip it."

"Kinn!"

"I said," Kinn said, getting into Porsche's face, making him back up till he hit the wall. "Skip it."

Kinn wasn't backing down. He remained in place, eyes never leaving Porsche's, as if willing Porsche to submit again. Usually, Porsche would.

"Earlier this year, you were glad that I'd be speaking at this rally."

"Are you resisting?"

"Omega kids will be there, Kinn."

"I said no."

"Why?"

Kinn smiled sardonically, removing a tiny, square card from his back pocket. He pressed it into Porsche's chest as it fell and Porsche caught it. It was the kind of card that accompanied flowers. When Porsche opened it, it read: Hope you're having a wonderful day. T.S.

Tod Setely.

"Where did you get this?"

"He's courting you."

"It's just a fucking card."

"He's sent one every single day since that night, Porsche. No matter where you are, the flowers find you. At the hotel, here, in the mansion?”

“I never got them.”

“Because I got them for you,” Kinn snapped. “He seems to know where you are, all the time. I can’t imagine that he won’t know you’ll be at that rally on Thursday.”

“I have to work.”

“You’re not the only celebrity going. I’m sure they’ll survive.”

“You can’t be serious.”

“Let me make this clear to you, Porsche. Go to that rally, and we’re done.”

Stepping away, Kinn opened the door to Pete’s room.

“When is this going to stop?” Porsche asked. “When are you going to stop treating me like this?”

Kinn paused, frowning at the handle of the door like he was giving it some thought.

“I’ll stop when I stop hating myself for loving you.”

And that, right there, was the beauty of adult conversation. Because they could have gone on for weeks, months even, without understanding what they wanted from each other. Porsche could have wallowed in ignorance, assuming that things were what he thought when he misunderstood the entire situation. He could have been mistaken and woken up one morning to find that he’d been so wrong.

But, with the benefit of a simple question, Porsche was able to learn that, one: Kinn was in love with him, and two: this dance between them would never end.

He should have never let it get this far. He should have listened when Vegas told him to stop. He shouldn’t have put Kinn in this position. He could tell himself that he’d never meant for any of this to happen, but he would always know that he’d thought about it. He’d hidden his presentation for a reason. He’d laid there and enjoyed the fruits of Kinn’s affection, regardless of what harm would come to Kinn if things broke loose.

And maybe Kinn was trying to look past it, in his own way. Porsche could tell. Intimacy between them wasn’t as easy as it used to be. Kinn didn’t let loose with Porsche, in or out of the bedroom. Try as they might, a cloud of tension followed them wherever they went. Because Porsche had fucked up. Because Kinn was fucked. Because Porsche had, on multiple occasions, witnessed Kinn crying in his sleep. Because Porsche had to pretend that he didn’t wake up to other unpleasant surprises that had never existed before Kinn found out Porsche was an alpha.

He’d underestimated the effect it would have on Kinn and that was all on Porsche. No one else. He knew that.

On Monday, Porsche watched TV with Pete the whole day. On Tuesday, they read lines, practicing for the play, regardless of the absence of a director. On Wednesday, he went to sleep in Kinn’s bed, pulling the covers over his head and knowing that even though Kinn liked to begin the night on the far end of the bed, that Porsche would wake up with Kinn’s hands tightly wrapped around his body.

One of the benefits of a mature conversation was knowing that this beautiful man could love him, while also knowing that what they had was definitely not for Porsche. Not the way it was. Not with the amount of tension that existed. Porsche was going to burn out, longing for the Kinn that didn’t know Porsche was an alpha. And Kinn was going to break, trying to make Porsche an omega.

On Thursday, when he woke up, Porsche showered and ate a few slices of bread.

Before he got dressed and headed to the omega rally.

[starfishdough]

Porsche Penske Motorsport ✖ Vroom Vroom

[iwantoceans]

‘𝐈 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐝, 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬’

[crookedkingdomruinedme]

Chan: Do you know the ABCs of first aid? 

Porsche: A. Bone. Coming out of the skin is very bad.

[scarefox]

[artpo]

Slot Machine:

Phiang Waichai (เพียงไว้ใจ) | Free Fall

Kinn | Porsche

KPAnniversary Week8 - Music

[nyxelestia]

“I couldn’t wait until dawn, because…” Kinn let go of Porsche to reach for his pocket with hands trembling almost as much as Porsche’s wings. “I…I was scared. That maybe something could go wrong, or someone might try to store your body and end up blocking you from sunlight, or…” Porsche’s expression softened as Kinn pulled a box of cigarettes out of his pocket. He stepped closer, his wings wrapping around them both, and Kinn sighed as the warmth wrapped around him. “I’m sorry,” Porsche murmured. “I…you’re- humans are so fragile, compared to us…I forgot you could be scared of losing me, too.”

[avida-heidia-5]

Chapter 11 is finished, baby! For There Is Thunder In Our Hearts, Baby by my good friend @kaossbells!!! …Baby! 🥰😘

🕯️ Candlelit Dinner:

🧜🏻‍♀️ Under The Sea:

🥞 “Room Service!”:

Scenes for Chapter 12 will be dropping in a couple of hours! I am on a ROLL with these! Woop woop! 🙌🏻

[wiccawrites]

Outline Update - Blooming Oleander Chapter 13

me writing like 1/2 of THE OUTLINE - not the actual chapter itself; just some rough flow descriptions and dialogue btw - and realizing it's already at 6k words:

[khunspikesficrecs]

Title: First Impressions

Author: AirgiodSLV (@airgiodslv)

Pairing: Kinn Theerapanyakul/Porsche Kittisawat

Rating: Explicit

Summary:

There’s movement in Bank’s peripheral vision, and fuck, thank god, but fuck, Mr. Kinn is standing there in the doorway, warily taking in the scene. “Porsche,” he says. It’s completely neutral, an invitation for explanation. Bank pants for breath and calculates his best chance of stopping Mr. Porsche if he tries to swing Bank’s gun toward Mr. Kinn. Based on the way this has gone so far, his odds aren’t great. “Kinn,” Mr. Porsche answers cheerfully. “We were just waiting for you.”

[m-a-w-a]

Chapter 2/2

Featuring:

Vegas being a self-indulgent drama queen 👑

Pete feeling murderous 🔪🔪🔪

Violence as communication tool 💀

(Please check the tags before reading)

When I say Vegas’ gone full emo, I mean it:

He could steal, rape, torture and kill men he tenderly made love to with promises of eternal devotion; he revelled causing pain and suffering, blood and screams seemingly the only things able to fill the bottomless gaping void of his soul, a black hole unavoidably attracting anyone entering its orbit towards the gnawing depths of his being, unlucky bastards condemned to share his darkness for a while.

He never felt so alive than when he was taking a life, as slowly and painfully as possible; it seemed the only way for him to feel something, anything, was to make others feel too much; little pieces of their agony a soothing balm on his own.

But Pete wasn’t sucked in the fiery pit of his soul – he shone a light on it, forcing brightness into darkness until Vegas couldn’t be blind anymore, everything he kept inside bubbling out to the surface with no way to keep it down.

Vegas hates it. He hates what Pete makes of him.

He loves him so much he doesn’t think he remembers how to breathe without Pete in his life.

[everyforkedroad]

Updated: <<Made to Love>> Threadfic Series - Pt. 14/17

"For Kinn, betrayal was a barb that burrowed its lessons deep into the soul. It scarred as it wounded. Kinn was not made to love because love was nothing more than a weapon to be wielded against him."

Series of 17 short drabbles from Kinn's POV. Follows the series with three bonus installments (Before/Side Story/After)

Posting simultaneously to Twitter and AO3

Part 14 - Unspeakable Things

Read here: Twitter / AO3

[thatsamoodrightthere]

Chapter 12 is up. Porsche copes the best he can on Chay’s birthday.

[pagesofkenna]

I had a Kinnporsche AU dream last night that involved 1) a car wreck, 2) a meet-cute with the car mechanic, 3) hiding from bad guys, 4) talking about Homestuck

I have not seen Kinnporsche

[gguk-n]

Luxury in Love's blind spot (Arthur Leclerc x fwb!reader)

[Set up- Reader is the grand-daughter of one of the richest man in the world. Maybe Arthur and the reader are a bit of a red flags in this.]

Summary- It’s never a good idea to get into a friends with benefit situation with an attractive man. You’ll only have your heart broken

Ending

[Reader's POV]

The first time me and Arthur met was on my birthday. I was out with a couple of friends in Monaco when I met Arthur in a club; I was a little tipsy and he was cute and too attractive to not take home for the night. I was drunk and horny and Arthur was willing to entertain me.

That night Arthur and I, ended up in my bed with some of the best sex I've ever had. This turned into a proper agreement; I was literally flying back to Monaco just to fuck Arthur with some of the most expensive gifts I could get my hands on. It was how I showed my love and appreciation, I told myself. I had become exclusive to Arthur. This felt like those stupid books where the reader falls in love with her friend with benefit when they explicitly said they shouldn't. But what was I supposed to do. The only person in my life that seemed to genuinely care about me was him. He would text me asking if I had food, or how the classes were. Sometimes, I wished I was doing my Masters in Monaco and not the UK but the flight was quite short. So, I would constantly be back in Monaco whenever he was around.

————————————————————————

Arthur was in the UK due to the race. I was very happy that we would get to hang out. I had tried to invite him over to family gatherings, as a friend obviously since I realised that I had started liking him. But he had always been busy due to the race or for some other reason. I felt a little disappointed but what could I do. He had apparently never mentioned me to his family; I only found that out when I went to meet him at the hotel when he was in the UK.

I handed the keys to my Porsche, to the valet and walked towards his Hotel room with a large bouquet of flowers, a box of his favourite chocolates from Italy, a new Rolex and a separate bag with some more chocolates for his brothers. I pressed the button to his floor on the elevator which took me there. I walked towards his room; knocking the door. A shocked Arthur opened the door. "Hi!!" I greeted, I wanted to hug him but my hands were full. "Why did you come here? I told I'd meet you at your place." Arthur muttered. "I wanted to surprise you." I exclaimed. "How did you get my room number?" he asked. "You told me silly, a couple days back, remember. Now, my hands hurt. Can I put this down?" I asked. Arthur reluctantly let me in. I saw both his brothers sat on the bed and chair. I placed the stuff on the table and greeted them. They looked at me confused. Arthur stepped in and told them I was a friend and that we would be leaving now. I handed them the bag of chocolates I got for them. "This is for you, as an apology. I'm gonna be stealing Arthur away for a couple days now." I giggled. "And these are for you, darling." I continued, placing the bouquet in Arthur's hands. He pulled me away, "Why'd you get all this?" he questioned. "I always get you stuff when I visit." I mumbled. "Well, you didn't have to. Let's leave." he dragged me out without even greeting his brothers good bye.

--------------------------------------------------——

The day of my graduation is when shit hit the fan. My family couldn't make it because my younger sibling was graduating and a Master's wasn't even a big deal they said. I asked Arthur if he could come but he was busy too. So, I spent my graduation alone. Until I got a call from Arthur the next day, so instead of flying back home, I flew to Monaco.

We hung out at Arthur's place getting drunk. "You don't usually get this drunk." Arthur commented. "I just wanna forget everything" I slurred. I reached out and pressed a kiss against his lips. "Let's get you some water." Arthur said getting up from the sofa. "I only need you" I said while pulling him back down. Arthur laughed, "sure, but only when you're sober." I straddled his lap while cupping his cheeks, "Please, don't leave, like everyone does." I begged with tears in my eyes. "I'm not going anywhere." Arthur whispered. "Promise?!" "Promise" he replied. "Because I love you so much" I mumbled. "You don't know what you're saying" Arthur sighed. "Drunk words are sober thought, babe." I replied. "Let's talk about this when you're sober." he suggested. "I don't think I'll have the courage to tell you this when I'm sober. I love you Arthur Leclerc, I have for a while. Sorry for breaking the agreement. I just couldn't help falling for you when you were so nice to me. But I know you don't feel that way. I've seen the way you are ashamed to be seen with me. That's the reason you've never invited me to your races or introduced me to your family or met mine, matter of fact." I rambled. "I-I-I" Arthur stammered. "It's ok sweet heart. I would be ashamed to be seen with me too." I let out a dry laugh. The lump in my throat was bigger and my eyes hurt. "I wish you loved me." I sighed "If you ever truly cared for me for even a moment then you'll reject me. So that I can finally move on from you." I suggested. "I'm sorry, I can't love you the way you want me too." Arthur said. Those words pierced my heart like a knife, I wiped away the tears that had started falling from my eyes.

This whole conversation had sobered me, I got up and started grabbing my stuff. "Where are you going?" Arthur asked. "Home, Arthur." I replied. "It's so late, stay the night." he requested. "It's ok, my assistant will come pick me up. Don't worry about me" I said while stumbling out of the door on call with my assistant.

[irisintheafterglow]

smoke his ass! (pro racer!gojo x you)

cw/tags: a lot of swearing lol, established relationship, banter and dialogue driven

note: didn't think this would get too long, but i liked writing this a lot! hope you enjoy :)

likes, reblogs, and replies are always appreciated <3

"that fucker in the ford is going to get smited if he doesn't stop being the ass-est human to ever exist."

"is it smited or smote? smot?" your pit lead shoots you a smirk, absolutely certain of who the 'fucker in the ford' was that was making your driver so infuriated. "i'm not sure smited is a word," suguru whispers through your mic.

"you're gonna be next, suguru geto. burnt to a crisp that would make hell jealous."

"geez, satoru," you mutter, praying that a convenient line of static or the sound of the wheels revving distorted his threats on any live feeds of his pov. "what's got you so worked up?"

"he needs to take me to dinner first before he rides my ass!" the last three words of his declaration blare in your headphones and you wince, already aware of the hearing loss you must experience from being around deafening engines all the time. the engine temperature spikes as satoru flicks the lever up a gear and makes a narrow pass around the second-place porsche. with the ford and the porsche eating his dust, he was able to regain some momentum with such an unexpected maneuver. he's quick to rein in the flare in his temper, though, and he can already predict your protests to pushing the car at an unnecessary time. "i know, i know. that pass was untimely, but i'm mad as hell right now."

"you're about to be madder," you say with no ounce of remorse and automatically tune out the groan of frustration crackling through the line. "i'm pitting you for new wheels and i wanna check your windscreen. that mcclaren crash during lap four probably threw some bad debris your way." his silence speaks volumes, his irritation obvious. yes, the stop may force satoru to work harder on his way back to the podium, but it was necessary to keep him safe for the remainder of the race. his car swerves unceremoniously into the pit lane and suguru's crew make quick work of replacing the tires. you meet his eyes through the window and find them seething, his gloves holding the wheel in a white-knuckle grip. before you could blink, he was zooming away again, adamant on showing the ford driver what the honored one is truly capable of. "you with me, satoru?"

"loud and clear. can i get a 'who's who' on that ford?"

"magic word?"

"i'm in shambles for you," he replies without missing a beat.

"look, you're climbing back to second and he's in fourth, satoru. he doesn't matter-"

"he plays dirty, so he does matter if he keeps trying to flip me into fucking oblivion," he counters and you sigh, defeated. you double-check the roster and see a name you weren't familiar with, someone who must have flown under the radar from the lower circuits.

"fushiguro. fushiguro toji." you watch the ferrari icon next to satoru's name steadily climb the leaderboard as he returns to his spot in third, with the porsche in front of him and the ford on his tail.

"new?"

"to these races, yeah, but it seems that he's dealt with drivers like you before."

"what do you mean, 'drivers like me?'"

"i mean that we've found a more reckless driver than you." the ford cuts a hard left to come parallel with the driver's side, barely missing one of satoru's back wheel wells. "case in point."

"then i think it's time he learned his place," satoru snarls. within seconds, he throws the car into a higher gear and swings wide on the following right turn, accelerating at the peak of his centripetal force and slamming on the gas at the straightaway. "how's that for reckless driving, asshole?"

"take a breath, hotshot," you chuckle and hear him click his tongue in defiance. you're slightly in awe of his move, but you weren't going to tell him that over comms. "you've still got a few more laps to go and you can easily burn out if you're not careful," you remind him but feel in your bones that he's found his way back into his groove, his own little pocket of racing that was created when it was only you on the line, him on the track, and a podium finish in sight.

"stay on the line?"

"i'm not going anywhere, sweetheart." you can hear him smile at the rare slip of affection, something you're very cautious about when you were both in professional settings. while your relationship with satoru was no secret, you tried to keep public reminders to a minimum to avoid overshadowing his racing career. you knew which story the press would choose first between his love life and his titles. "just get back faster."

"i'm trying, but this mercedes is giving me a rough time." you fight the urge to laugh, having seen this sequence play out numerous times in the past. towards the end of races where something threw him off, he tended to lose morale during the last few laps. however, since you became his lead engineer, you've developed the uncanny skill of saying the three magic words to fire him up again.

"you're in a ferrari, gojo satoru," you say. "smoke his ass." like clockwork, the words register in his mind and he finds a new sense of determination, rocketing past the mercedes and over the checkered line for another first-place finish on his shelf. "there you go, there's my speed demon boyfriend," you murmur in his ear when he tugs off his helmet and gloves and holds you close.

"sorry for getting pissy about the ford," he says quietly so that only you can hear it. "i hope i didn't hurt your ears too badly."

"they're still ringing," you joke, "but i'll be fine as long as you aren't arrested for assault on fushiguro toji." a dangerous glint catches in satoru's bright blue eyes, one that makes the corner of your mouth turn down in a scolding frown.

"i'm not doing anything," he sings innocently while you make your way up the stairs to the winners' stage. "not yet, at least. and, for the record, i'm elated that he didn't make podium." before he leaves, he's quick to give you a peck on the cheek that makes your face heat. "and, i love you a lot. i'm gonna go get our trophy now, so wait here."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)