#MOTOR CITY FIVE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

neocitylights · 3 months ago

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SUMMARY: Despite the city’s fast-paced scene of street racing—in which you happen to be the name to be beaten at every race—getting to know Jeno is a steady, quiet affair. Breaking the mechanic’s walls between races and late-night rides, the two of you slowly grow closer, unknowingly surrounded by secrets neither of you are ready to reveal. Still, in a world that’s driven by speed and adrenaline like yours, surprises are inevitable—even those that end up breaking your heart before mending it. GENRE: Romance, fluff, action, street racing au WORD COUNT: 16k WARNINGS: Cursing, suggestive themes, implied sexual content, depictions of violence

NOTES: Yay to the official start of the NCU series with a Fast & Furious inspired Jeno fic! Please let me know what you think!! It’s gonna make my day!!

The atmosphere feels heavy with energy, the smell of motor oil and burned rubber lingering in the air as the hum of engines blend with the pounding bass of whatever music’s currently playing in the warehouse.

A row of neon-lit and vivid colored cars line up all the way outside, the buzzing audience placing their bets as they mingle with the racers and crew alike.

Despite its overwhelming chaos, the environment wraps you like a second skin with ease—laced with nothing but familiarity and comfort, race nights always feel like your personal sanctuary. Under the sounds of revving engines, roaring crowds and blaring music, you’d found your own twisted kind of peace, a vicious sense of belonging that only racing could give you through its unpredictability and adrenaline.

It also doesn’t hurt that you’re good at it.

After all, there’s a reason why your name currently holds the highest number of bets and has been for the last five races, no competitor coming close to dethroning your streak of wins.

While a handful of racers walk past your car, their wandering eyes occasionally lingering over the red Mazda RX-7 gleaming under the warehouse’s bright lights, anticipation slowly builds in your chest as you meticulously check the final details before the official start, brain already racing ahead through the layout until a familiar voice calls for your name.

Startled, you look up just as Gigi approaches with rapid steps. The pink-haired girl quickly intertwines your arms, pulling you closer with a grin that characteristically only means one thing, especially when knowing her antics.

“Oh, here we go,” you tease, raising an amused eyebrow at your fellow racer turned best-friend. “I wonder what piece of gossip I’m gonna have to roll my eyes at this time.”

“I mean, if you don’t want to know about the new guy from Neo Tech that just signed up to take you…” Gigi starts, offering a nonchalant shrug with a mock dramatic touch lacing her voice. “We can totally talk about something else, if you want?”

As the words hang in the air for a second, your amusement shifts to confusion as you scan Gigi’s face for any traces of exaggeration. “What?”

“You heard me, Cherry,” she continues, excitedly cozying up to your side as her grin returns with your peaked curiosity. “Jaemin says he’s been around for two weeks—”

“There’s a new guy at Neo Tech?” you cut in, furrowing your eyebrows before offering the racer an exasperated huff. “Also, why are you making it sound like I’m having sex with him? He just signed up to take me?”

Gigi bursts into a laugh, giving you a look as mischief takes over her eyes. “I’m not. You’re the one thinking of it!”

“I’m not the one who said it,” you argue, playfully rolling your eyes at her in an attempt to play off the curiosity suddenly gnawing at your thoughts. “Who even told you this?”

“Didn’t I just say Jaemin?” she taunts, holding back another laugh at your half-hearted glare. “Apparently, Taeyong’s short on crew since Mark and Hyuck are still in Seoul, so he’s been pulling in new blood.”

Although you don’t necessarily worry about your victory streak nor being challenged for it, the new information does sound… interesting. Since Neo Tech’s more than just a regular garage, the crew notoriously known for building damn near perfect cars for a few lucky racers in the city—a short list that includes you—it’s not unusual to find one of Taeyong’s mechanics listed up for a race every now and then.

Given their knowledge, it’s always fun racing with them, which you’ve already done several times against Mark, Jaehyun and Yuta specifically.

As you’re about to fish more details from Gigi, the low growl of a particular engine pulls your attention to the far end of the warehouse. A green Nissan Skyline GT-R turns a few heads as it crosses the lot, the car’s polished, pristine exterior looking nothing but sleek under the lights. It comes to a smooth stop just a few spots away from you, the driver’s door soon swinging open under the crowd’s attentiveness.

It’s almost impossible not looking at the guy, his tall figure turning as many heads as the car did. With a glance around the bustling place, holding a posture that looks entirely too relaxed for a first-timer, his dark eyes suddenly land on you, lingering for a second too long to be just a coincidence.

Instinctively straightening under his gaze, your curiosity doubles as he walks over to the corner where the Neo Tech’s guys are usually posted on, almost as if he’s done this a hundred times before.

“That’s him!” Gigi murmurs, oblivious to the blasting background music while gently elbowing at your side. “That’s the new guy from Neo Tech!”

You hum softly, finally breaking your gaze from him to shoot your best-friend an inquisitive look. “Do you know his name?”

“What for?” she asks, raising a suspicious eyebrow as a knowing smirk tugs at her mouth. “Why are you suddenly so interested? Don’t tell me that you actually want him to take you—”

“Do not finish that sentence, Gigi!” you interrupt, scoffing at her words as warmth spreads through your cheeks. “I just wanted to know who I’m racing against, that’s all!”

The pink-haired racer snorts, shaking her head as she gives you a side-eye. “I don’t know his name, sorry. Maybe Jaemin told me, but you know I can’t ever remember shit, so…”

Johnny’s voice suddenly echoes over the speakers, calling the racers to the starting line with one of his quick-witted remarks. Exchanging one last look with Gigi before she leaves to her bright pink Honda S2000, the warehouse’s mood has already significantly changed, a competitive streak flaring the audience into life.

Pulling your Mazda into position on the makeshift track marked outside the warehouse, your fingers tighten around the steering wheel as you exhale, ignoring the crowd outside calling out your nickname.

Still, you can’t help a brief glance as a certain green Skyline slides right beside you, catching Neo Tech guy’s gaze through the window. As a silent acknowledgement of the challenge set between both of you, he gives you a small, almost imperceptible nod as the corners of his mouth hint a tight-lipped smile.

It takes Johnny to break the moment, the man hyping up the crowd before starting his usual pre-race discourse, listing a handful of rules and warnings to the racers.

“You know the drill, folks!” he remarks, finishing the speech with a grin at the racers, though it seems somewhat too directed at you. “Our current five-win streak means five grand to whoever ends it!”

The words immediately light the audience into life, engines equally roaring as the sound reverberates into the night, the flag now in Johnny’s hands.

As you focus ahead, adrenaline settles on your stomach—whether you keep the streak or give five thousand to another racer, it doesn’t really matter. You race for yourself, not for the money, not for the praise, and most definitely not for anyone else’s ego or expectations.

Your hands tighten on the steering wheel, foot hovering over the pedals, waiting for the signal.

Johnny raises the flag high, his voice cutting through the roaring engines and the buzz of the crowd.

“Three!”

You inhale deeply, pulse racing as strongly as your car’s engine.

“Two!”

Your foot presses lightly on the accelerator, the cherry red RX-7 growling in anticipation.

“One!”

Johnny drops the flag.

The car launches forward, tires screeching against the asphalt as the racers surge ahead. Despite the force pining you back, your grip is steady, holding firm enough for the car to quickly take the lead.

As you pick up speed to a stretch of free road ahead, Neo Tech’s guy edges right behind you, purposefully touching the rear of your Mazda a few times. Despite your annoyance—it took Jaemin a long time to perfect the cherry tone you begged for—you can’t help chuckling at the attitude, definitely impressed with his skills.

The first turn comes fast, your hands moving with precision as the car makes a perfect curve, tight enough for you to accelerate further with the bend. With the new guy matching the move, it takes a second for him to hold the Skyline side by side with you.

You dare a brief glance at him, catching a glimpse of his focused, determined expression. It’s clear that he’s in to win it, instantly making you wonder what’s truly driving him to it—if it’s the money, the challenge or just the sense of triumph that comes from a rookie victory.

You do also admit to yourself that he’s… stupidly good-looking.

Once you barrel into the return stretch, both looking for an opening to overtake each other, your muscle memory takes you ahead with a slightly wider inside curve, foot heavy on the accelerator as the RX-7 takes the lead again. It’s not enough for the guy to give up, his GT-R somehow pushing harder as you approach the final section of the course. As you pour everything into the last seconds of the race, heart pounding against your chest, the finish line comes into view.

A blur of green and red cut through the finish line together, the audience erupting in stunned and thrilled reactions as Johnny waves the flag for a second time, signaling the end of the race.

As you slam the brakes, the car skimming to a stop into the swarming crowd, your breath’s still heavy as realization strikes—without the need for Johnny’s confirmation, you know Neo Tech’s new guy just broke your infamous five-win streak.

Once you step out of the car, adjusting your skirt with an eye-roll at Johnny’s mock astonished face, the dark-haired guy quickly emerges from his Skyline, his expression nothing but calm, almost unreadable. The mass of people around opens the way for him as he walks towards you, watching the scene with curious eyes.

Taking the lead, you reach out a hand before offering your name, a playful smile curling on your mouth as he frowns for a second, visibly skeptical of your light attitude.

“It was a cool race,” you start, smile widening at the way his eyebrows raise upon the words. “Neo Tech guys are usually fun to race against. Good to know you are, too.”

“It was a tough one,” he answers, pausing for a second before finally taking your hand with a polite nod, the tone of his voice neutral before introducing himself. “I’m Jeno.”

The simplicity of his interaction shifts something within you. As you’re left staring bemusedly at the calm, laidback confidence in the guy’s words and body language, maybe the loss should sting… for a little, at least.

It’s a known fact between the racers that you aren’t the type to obsess over winning, proving a point or whatever that comes with the territory of racing. That’s exactly what leaves most contenders sore about their loss whenever challenging you—while they’re racing specifically to beat you, winning has always been just a bonus for you, instead racing for the fun and your passion for cars.

Now, Jeno has not only beat your streak, but also has properly acknowledged you as an equal competitor.

Even though he did race to win, he’d raced with you, not against you.

So for the first time in a long time, you suddenly find yourself wanting the win, for whatever twisted reason your brain has fooled you into.

“Well, enjoy it while it lasts, Jeno,” you say, smiling mischievously before letting go of his hand, purposefully locking eyes with him. “I’ll take you for a rematch if you’re back next time.”

The corner of his mouth lifts just slightly, gaze unwavering from you as he nods firmly. “I’ll be looking forward to it.”

As you turn around to leave, heading toward Gigi and the rest of her crew, you can’t help glancing over your shoulder. Already surrounded by a few of Neo Tech’s guys and curious spectators, Jeno’s eyes meet yours for a second before you disappear into the crowd again.

Entering his third week at Neo Tech, Jeno has already grown accustomed to the garage’s bustling routine, the controlled chaos entirely familiar by now.

With Tayeong running the crew under a sharp eye, it’s not a secret that the place holds an unique energy that’s equal parts professional and chaotic—the exact reason why the garage is so sought after in the first place, besides the highly qualified crew that works on and off the streets.

After the race, the buzz of his win is yet to quiet down, especially with the stream of racers that stop by the garage for either routine check-ups or simply to scope out the new Neo Tech guy who’d taken a certain racer’s five-win streak. Despite the attention, Jeno keeps his head down, choosing to only acknowledge the crew’s interest every now and then and focusing on work instead.

Still, that’s not to say that he isn’t curious himself about you.

Even if he deliberately avoids the crew’s knowing glances towards him when your Mazda suddenly pulls up at the garage a few days later.

The familiar hum of your engine immediately pulls Jeno’s attention from his work, the RX-7’s contrasting cherry red easily catching his eye from outside.

You climb out of the car with a flair to your step, coming to a stop at the entrance as you briefly scan the space, exchanging casual greetings with some of the guys on the way. As soon as you spot Jaemin hunched over a rebuild project, a grin immediately spreads across your face.

Jeno discreetly watches as you sneak up behind him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders in a back hug that visibly startles the ever nonchalant mechanic.

“Hi, Nana,” you greet, teasing Jaemin with a gentle squeeze while pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Did you miss me?”

“Do you really want me to answer?” he says, giving you a dry look over his shoulder despite the warmth in his voice. “Took you long enough to show up this time, didn’t you?”

“I know you missed me, but I’m a very busy woman,” you quip, flashing him a grin before jumping up to sit on a workstation nearby. “Besides, you of all people should know I’d never let my baby unattended if something had happened.”

Jaemin shakes his head with a chuckle, side-eyeing you suspiciously for a second. “Then why are you here, Cherry?”

“Just thought I’d drop by to see you,” you answer breezily, shrugging as your fingers fiddle with the two red hearts locked to your car’s keys. “We didn’t really talk last time and Gigi’s crew left the race earlier than usual, so…”

With a hum, Jaemin raises an eyebrow in his direction before turning to you again, eyes gleaming with purpose. “I take it you’ve met Jeno, then?”

As the mechanic gestures towards him, Jeno can’t help the tension from spreading through his body, caught off guard over suddenly being pulled into the conversation. For a moment that feels too long, it almost feels like he’s being sized up as your gaze lands on his frame, sharp and assessing.

“Yeah,” you admit, a laugh escaping from your lips when catching the slight surprise on his face. “What’s up, Jeno?”

He nods politely, pursing his lips in a half-hearted, hesitant greeting. “Hey.”

“I bet you’ve had a lot of visitors dropping by to check you out after the race, right?” you ask, teasing him as your tone shifts to a mischievous one. “Are you sick of it enough for a rematch yet?”

Still holding your gaze, Jeno simply shakes his head. “They’re not here because of me.”

Despite his deadpan delivery, the way your eyes immediately flicker in understanding isn’t lost on Jeno, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of your mouth as the implication behind his words settle between you.

“Taeyong sure knows how to pick a crew,” you muse, mostly chuckling to yourself before raising an eyebrow towards him. “Have you been racing for a long time?”

Turning his attention back to the engine in front of him, Jeno nods vaguely. “A while.”

As you watch him, maybe a little too attentively for his liking, a mix of amusement and exasperation take over your face. “You don’t really talk much, do you?”

Jeno doesn’t immediately respond, instead keeping his eyes fixed on the tools spread over his workstation. As he gives a half-hearted shrug, the silence instantly serves as an answer for you.

“Right,” you mutter, chuckling softly before curiously peering at his engine from your spot. “That’s a cool V8 you’re working on, by the way.”

He quickly glances up at your words, his hands pausing the screwdriver in his grasp as a hint of intrigue replaces the indifferent attitude. “You know your way around cars.”

“It comes with the territory,” you answer, an amused smile widening on your face at his reaction. “Also, I’ve had good teachers… Vic taught me a lot about it, too.”

The name catches Jeno off guard, a frown betraying the confusion on his face. “Vic?”

As the loud, unmistakable rumble of a Dodge Charger R/T suddenly resonates through the garage, heads turning to the entrance over the black, pristine 1970’s model stopping outside Neo Tech, the question stays unanswered.

For a second time, Jeno catches himself cautiously watching you—as the puzzled look on your face shifts to a smile of recognition over whoever’s arrived, you’re quick to jump off Jaemin’s workstation, hurrying outside with a demeanor he can’t quite figure out.

Behind the Charger’s wheel, sits a man that looks somewhat familiar, his appearance seemingly fitting around early to mid fifties given his rugged presence.

As you share a high-five with him, leaning against the window of his car for a chat, Jeno notes how the man seems to hang onto your words, a visible sense of camaraderie laced to the interaction. Despite your childlike excitement, it doesn’t take long until he playfully waves you off, a giggle escaping from your lips while you quickly climb into your Mazda, soon leaving right behind him.

It’s only when Jaemin clears his throat that Jeno breaks away from the scene, looking back to find the mechanic grinning knowingly at him.

“That was really interesting,” he starts, leaning back against a nearby tool cart before crossing his arms. “Cherry doesn’t usually have to work for it.”

Ignoring the insinuation of Jaemin’s comment, Jeno plays it off with an amused scoff. “Is there a reason for that nickname?”

“Everyone’s been calling her that for as long as I’ve known her.” Jaemin shrugs, chuckling fondly. “She owned up to it when she started racing, so we painted the RX-7 red to match her.”

Jeno hums, briefly shooting him an inquisitive glance. “You two seemed close.”

As he seems to understand the catch, the grin on Jaemin’s face grows even bigger. “Oh, it was a long time ago,” he explains, sounding annoyingly reassuring for no reason. “We mutually decided we’re better off as friends, so don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not,” he counters bluntly, frowning at the fellow mechanic before turning back to the V8 again. “Who was that in the black Charger?”

“That’s... Victor Torres,” Jaemin answers, seemingly puzzled at the question. “Vic’s a bit of a legend around the neighborhood. He’s been racing, mentoring a few racers around here for a while. Cherry’s one of his star pupils.”

Jeno pauses briefly, his eyebrows furrowing in thought over the memories from that night. “I don’t think I’ve seen him at the race.”

With a curious smirk curling his lips, the mechanic shakes his head. “The old man was out of the city for a dealership,” he explains, squinting his eyes in his direction for a second. “You’re settling in pretty quick for new blood.”

A half-hearted smile tugs at Jeno’s mouth, the answer measured with a nonchalant shrug. “Things aren’t too different from what I’ve done before.”

“So you have raced before,” Jaemin notes, an inquisitive edge to his voice despite the humorous gleam in his gaze. “I don’t think you’ve mentioned that when you signed up last time.”

“Nobody asked,” Jeno replies, looking up at the mechanic again with a taunting glance. “It didn’t seem important.”

Amused by the off-putting answer, Jaemin studies him for a beat before clicking his tongue. “Maybe you shouldn’t have raced against Cherry,” he says, shooting him a playful wink. “Winning against everyone’s favorite tends to draw attention.”

As Jeno stands up from his workbench, subtly signaling the end of the conversation, a touch of finality hangs to his voice. “I’m not here to impress anyone.”

“Fair enough,” Jaemin counters with a chuckle, backing off with a lazy shrug. “Just don’t think we’re not all wondering, though. People are paying attention.”

Though Jeno doesn’t react outwardly, the weight of Jaemin’s words linger over his head for the night.

Settling in at Neo Tech truly had been smoother than he’d expected—maybe a little too smooth, now that he thinks of it. Jeno knows he’s playing a careful game, but days like this make him feel like the pieces are shifting faster than he can anticipate.

Despite being as old as time, The Bluebird is considerably packed for a Friday night, the few worn-out tables of the diner all taken as you walk past through the door.

As the jingle of the bell announces your arrival, the smell of frying bacon and fresh coffee immediately surround you, welcoming and familiar as a childhood memory.

Nestled on the corner of the neighborhood’s busiest street, The Bluebird is the kind of place where the food is deliciously greasy, the coffee a little too strong and everyone knows your name even if you don’t. Though it’s not the case with Daria, one of the diner’s waitresses that has pretty much seen you grow up over your visits for their milkshakes and cheeseburgers.

She’s quick to spot you through the diner’s buzz, gesturing for you to sit by the vacant counter with a smile. You rush through the tables, softly returning the older woman’s smile.

“I didn’t know you were back, Daria!” you start, sliding into a stool with a curious glance at her. “How was your trip? Did you see your grandkids?”

“It was wonderful!” she says, her face lighting up with warmth before setting the menu in front of you. “The little ones are growing so fast, it won’t take long until they’re taller than me.”

Leaning against the counter, you smile at her between mischief and curiosity. “What about your boyfriend? Did he go with you?”

“You know that an old woman shouldn’t kiss and tell,” Daria jokes, though her face quickly shifts as she shoots you a knowing look. “What about you? Don’t think I haven’t heard about your little things with Taeyong’s boys.”

You quickly avert your gaze to the menu on the wall, feigning a cough under her amused scrutiny. “Oh, I think I’m ready to order?”

Daria chuckles, visibly unimpressed by your poor attempt to change the subject. “I’m sure you are,” she teases, pulling a notepad from her apron. “Let me guess. A cherry milkshake, cheeseburger and fries, like always?

As you nod eagerly, a grin tugs at the corners of your mouth. “You just get me, Daria.”

The older woman laughs, jotting down your order just about to head towards the kitchen when a familiar voice cuts through the chatter around you.

“Add it to my tab.”

The sudden intrusion makes you glance over, eyes instantly locking with Jeno’s as he sits a few stools away, casually holding a steaming mug of coffee. The faintest hint of a smirk plays on his lips as he notes your surprised features, having been oblivious to his quiet presence until now.

Daria raises an eyebrow at him, suspiciously glancing between both of you. She hesitates, tapping a pen against the notepad as if weighing whether to prod further or leave her curiosity alone.

With a playful shrug, you laugh reassuringly at the waitress. “You heard the man, Daria. I’m having free dinner tonight.”

She hums, looking nothing but unconvinced as she side-eyes Jeno for a second. “Alright, then,” Daria says, ultimately tucking the notepad into her apron again. “I’m watching you two. Don’t cause trouble, I’ll bring your food soon.”

As she heads towards the kitchen, leaving you two alone in the diner’s bustling atmosphere, Daria doesn’t resist smirking knowingly at you.

Shifting on your seat to face him, you regard the racer’s laidback posture with narrowed eyes. “I can pay for my own food, you know.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jeno answers, an unexpected hint of amusement lacing his voice as he shrugs lightly. “I’ve got five grand sitting in my bank account, figured some courtesy wouldn’t hurt.”

“Oh, we’re going there now?” you argue, a scoff escaping from your lips. “There’s another race in a few days, should I expect a rematch?”

He hums, taking a sip of his coffee before offering a teasing, small smile. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“I actually would,” you say, crossing your arms over the counter with a mock challenging glare at him. “Aren’t you talking a little too much for new blood? That entire race was mine.”

Jeno quirks an eyebrow, setting the mug down as the smile on his face widens discreetly. “Pretty sure I crossed the line first.”

“By a hair,” you counter, slumping back against your seat just as a deliberate, easy grin tugs at your mouth. “I might’ve lost but I know I made you work for it.”

“Yeah,” he mutters, the admission edged with a touch of honesty that catches you off-guard. “You really did.”

As he holds your gaze for a second longer than necessary, all traces of playfulness slowly shift to a more thoughtful mood, a touch too serious for the moment. The air seems to shift between you—somewhat charged with something you can’t pinpoint, though neither of you back down from it.

Before the sudden tension stretches for longer, Daria steps in, breaking the conversation’s lull with your order in hands.

She glances between you and Jeno with an amused frown, lips twitching for a grin. “Flirting or fighting?”

Jeno snorts. “Neither.”

“Fighting,” you fire back.

Answering at the same time, the coincidence draws a snicker out of Daria before she hurries away to another customer, quickly leaving you for a second time.

“So, Jeno...” you start, attempting to lead the conversation back into your own curiosity’s territory. “What’s your deal? Taeyong’s usually so picky about his crew, I was surprised to hear there was a new guy at Neo Tech.”

Jeno takes his time to reply, almost as if weighing what to say. “Not much to tell,” he says, shaking his head before exhaling a laugh that doesn’t reach his eyes. “He needed someone on short notice, I needed the job.”

You pick up a fry in between bites of the cheeseburger, twirling it between your fingers with a hum. “How’d you get into racing then?”

“I grew up around cars. My dad used to work on a few for fun, so I spent a lot of time in our garage with him,” Jeno explains, looking suddenly a bit nostalgic. ”I started tinkering around, learning a bit. Racing just felt like a natural step.”

As you nod, a small smile curls on your lips over the straw of the milkshake. “Sounds like me, except it was my brother.”

He raises an eyebrow, visibly surprised by the words. “Does he race?”

“Nope,” you quickly answer, glancing down at the plate in front of you to pick on the few fries left. “Not anymore.”

As if sensing something there, Jeno chooses to not press further as he nods. “If it’s worth anything, you’re really good at it.”

You blink, feeling warmth spreading through your neck for a moment before quickly recovering, shooting him a mischievous grin instead. “Why did you decide to challenge me that day, by the way?”

Jeno pauses, lips threatening a smile as his fingers brush over the edge of his mug. “I wasn’t going to,” he confesses, chuckling humorlessly. “I wasn’t even thinking about racing that day.”

Unconsciously leaning closer, your curiosity now piqued, you frown at him. “Then... why did you?”

“I heard some racers talking about you—how you don’t race for the money or actually winning,” he starts, his tone somehow caught between amusement and exasperation. “Doing it against someone like that just seemed... fun. Just racing for the sake of it.”

Your grin returns a little wider, mischief slipping back into your tone. “All I’m hearing is that you’re signing up for the next one.”

His lips twitch, Jeno taking a last sip of his coffee under your intrigued gaze. “If you get a ten-win streak, I’ll think about it.”

You snort, feigning a peeved glare. “Is that a challenge?”

He tilts his head, the corners of his mouth curving into a small, teasing smile. “I don’t know.” Jeno chuckles quietly, a hand casually running through his hair. “Is it?”

The sudden shift in his behavior—from the guarded, almost apathetic Jeno you met at the garage to the current playful, teasing Jeno from today—has definitely given you a bit of whiplash. The easy smiles, his gentle confidence and the way he’s been quietly coaxing reactions out of you are a stark contrast to the unreadable, aloof man from days ago. Leaving you to wonder what else he’s possibly hiding underneath his layers, the change only spurs you further.

There’s something there, a growing curiosity that you can’t ignore, making you eager to figure him out even if you’re not entirely sure why.

As your phone buzzes inside the pockets of your hoodie, Vic’s name flashing on the screen once you pick it up, Jeno’s face quickly changes to a more reserved expression, politely turning away in an attempt to give you a little privacy. The call doesn’t last long, Vic ultimately bidding you goodbye as the line clicks off.

You pocket the phone into your hoodie again, turning back to him with an apologetic shrug. “Sorry, I’ve gotta go.”

Jeno nods, his light-hearted demeanor now eased into something more neutral. “Guess I’ll see you around, then.”

“Yeah,” you reply with a small smile, lingering for just a second longer than you mean to before standing up from your stool. “Try not to miss me too much, okay? I’ll see you at the race.”

He doesn’t reply, instead only offering you an amused smile watching you skirt around the tables on the way to the door. You send him a quick, playful wink over your shoulder before finally stepping outside, holding back a smile of your own upon noticing the way he laughs.

Heading towards your car, the glow of The Bluebird’s neon sign fading through the street, you shake off the wandering thoughts.

Back at the warehouse again, surrounded by the roar of engines and the usual heavy atmosphere that marks race day, Jeno watches the bustling crowd with attention.

It hasn’t been long he’s arrived, parking his Skyline at Neo Tech’s usual spot as a few racers stop by every now and then, attempting to find out whether his name was at the starting grid for the night.

Though the crowd quickly turns his name into one of the most anticipated contenders once they clock his presence, Jeno knows better than racing tonight. After last time, unexpectedly battling with the scene’s most loved racer, keeping a low profile seems like the safest option for now.

As he leans against the hood of his green GT-R, taking in the line-up of cars over the warehouse, a familiar cherry red shadow easily catches his attention—except you aren’t the one behind the wheel this time. Jeno frowns, straightening slightly as he tries to recognize the figure through the windows of your Mazda until Johnny’s sudden call makes it impossible, the crowd erupting into chaos at his blasting voice.

Pushing off his car, he quickly weaves through the audience outside the warehouse, surrounding the starting line for a better view.

The pre-race procedure stays the same with Johnny listing the rules, giving a quick run-down on the night’s track before hyping up the winning prize, the crowd attentively hanging onto his words.

“We’ve got a bit of a twist tonight though,” Johnny adds, his voice laced with a cryptic touch despite the thrill on his face. “Two of our favorite racers have switched cars for today’s race.”

Before the crowd pieces it together, Jeno raises an eyebrow at his own realization.

“In the RX-7, we’ve got Gigi taking the wheel—” Johnny pauses abruptly, grinning at the sudden cheers and whistles of both surprise and excitement coming from the audience. “—and in the S2000, we’ve got Cherry in command tonight.”

“That’s new,” Jaemin says, chuckling as he steps beside Jeno, glancing between the two cars at the far end of the line-up with interest. “I don’t think Cherry’s ever done that.”

Following his eyes, Jeno finally glimpses your focused figure inside the pink Honda. “She seems to know what she’s doing.”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that,” he replies casually, arms crossing over his chest as a grin slowly grows on his face. “It’s not about the car with her, but I am curious as to why she’s doing it tonight.”

Jaemin gives him a sharp glance, expressive enough that Jeno immediately gets the picture he’s painting.

Though he doesn’t respond, it feels like his silence speaks volumes.

As Johnny finishes his speech, the roar of the engines revving up adds to the building tension. The crowd surges forward once Johnny raises the flag, pressing closer to the edge of the track as it blazes under bright headlights.

The flag drops.

Despite being at disadvantage at the corners, you easily push through with Gigi’s Honda, tires screeching against the pavement as the car takes the lead.

At his side, Jaemin lets out an amused whistle. “Yeah, she’s definitely pulling it off.”

It doesn’t take long until the cars are doubling a corner after the first long straight, the blind spot simmering the crowd with anticipation for a few minutes. As a commotion at the outskirts of the grid catches Jeno’s eyes, his attention momentarily shifts to a familiar figure stepping into the chaos.

Victor Torres walks through the cluster of people, thoroughly scanning the place in the company of two broad-shouldered, stone-faced men right behind him.

Jaemin notices the shift in Jeno’s attention, curiously glancing around until a puzzled sound escapes his mouth. “Oh? Vic usually doesn’t show up unless he’s got a reason.”

Trying to keep his tone as neutral as possible, Jeno clears his throat. “So he doesn’t usually watch her race.”

Though the question sounds more like a statement, the mechanic still shakes head with a thoughtful hum. “Not anymore. He could be here for literally anything, though.”

As the sounds of running engines approach, getting louder by every second, the audience quickly flares up waiting for whoever’s currently leading the race. Jeno can’t help but grin as the S2000 makes a perfect curve into the final stretch, leaving you seconds ahead as the first racer to reach the last bit of the course.

The blur of pink easily blazes across the finish line, the atmosphere erupting with cheers and applause. Behind you, the cherry red Mazda follows close as Gigi skillfully holds the second place.

Jeno watches as you slow the car into the surging crowd, climbing out of the Honda with a thrilled glow on your face. Despite the swarm congratulating you, your attention seems to be on something else, eyes scanning the faces until unmistakably locking with his own. A grin immediately curls on your lips as you push through the handful of people, walking towards him with a poised stance.

You cast a mischievous glance at him as you approach, arms crossing over your chest. “Are you really backing out of our rematch?”

Jeno chuckles, holding a hand out for a surprise high-five. “Congratulations. That was one hell of a race.”

Jaemin clears his throat dramatically at Jeno’s side, watching you reciprocate the gesture with a frown on his face. “Oh, sure, don’t mind me,” he grumbles, rolling his eyes. “I mean, I wasn’t really here rooting for you the whole time, it’s fine.”

“Don’t be like that,” you coo at him, stepping closer before throwing your arms around Jaemin’s neck, hanging onto his figure with a laugh. “You know I love you, Nana.”

The mechanic hums, letting you go with a teasing side glance. “Do you?”

With a slap to his arm, an amused scoff escapes your lips. “You’re a menace,” you say, giving Jaemin a light, playful push. “You should go, Gigi’s probably wondering why you’re not hovering around her yet.”

Jaemin grins, ruffling your hair in retaliation before stepping back with an exaggerated bow. As he disappears into the crowd walking over to Gigi’s parked Honda, there’s a subtle change in the air now that you’re left alone.

Despite the hectic post-race, heavy music now echoing from inside the warehouse as Johnny takes the DJ stand, a few curious eyes are still watching both of you, conversations pausing momentarily to become hushed mumbles. Whether it’s about your win over Gigi, the fact that you’re openly engaging with him of all people or something else entirely… Jeno can’t really tell.

As you turn to him again, your expression shifts to a mix of confusion and excitement. “Why did you come if you weren’t racing tonight?”

“To watch you,” he replies, the blunt answer clearly catching you off guard as your lips twitch, resisting a smile. “I told you, I don’t really race that much anymore.”

“Well, maybe you should,” you argue, offering a light shrug with a coy glance at him. “At least it’d be more fun for me.”

Jeno regards you knowingly, lips pursing in a small smile. “I’m pretty sure you were holding back on the straights tonight,” he notes, huffing a quiet laugh at your guilty wince. “How long have you known Gigi?”

“We went to school together,” you answer, fondness suddenly lacing your voice. “If my brother and Vic taught me everything I know, Jaemin and I taught her everything she knows.”

“She had a good teacher, then,” he says, still smiling with a thoughtful nod. “Seems like you’ve got a lot of people in your corner.”

You smile in a way Jeno hasn’t seen yet, a hint of pride flashing in your eyes. “I’m the luckiest to have them.”

As he studies you for a second, your expression unexpectedly wavering to a sheepish one, Jeno can’t help a soft chuckle from escaping his lips. “I can tell.”

A beat of silence passes before you break it with a playful sparkle in your eyes. “So… where’s your car, anyways?” you ask, glancing over your shoulder towards the warehouse. “I’ve never driven a Nissan before. When are you giving me a chance to drive that beauty?”

Jeno raises an eyebrow, his lips curling into a teasing smile. “You sure you can handle it?” he asks, crossing his arms in a laidback gesture. “It’s not exactly a car for amateurs.”

“Are you calling me an amateur?” you provoke him, taking a step closer before playfully raising your chin at him. “If you think I can’t handle it, then let me take a ride to show you what I got.”

Though he laughs at the words, warmth slowly spreads through his body as Jeno leans closer to you, just enough to subtly tower over your figure. As his heart picks up, your dazed face just inches away from his, Jeno can’t help his eyes from dipping to your lips.

It feels like something snaps in his brain as he suddenly looks up, instantly finding Vic near the entrance of the warehouse, the man’s gaze fixed intently on both of you. His posture is tense, arms crossed as if he’s been watching for a while.

Jeno takes a step back, exhaling sharply at the way your expression falters, looking genuinely confused by his sudden attitude.

As his voice falls into indifference again, he offers you an apologetic glance. “It’s getting late, you should probably go home.”

You huff a short laugh, a mix of bewilderment and defiance crossing your face. “Right... I probably should.”

Before Jeno can say anything else, you quickly turn around to leave—not before giving him a final, lingering look with arms crossed over your chest. As he watches you cut into the remaining crowd, your name slips from his mouth before Jeno can consciously stop it.

“You’ll have to buy me dinner before I let you ride it.”

A grin slowly tugs at your lips before you offer him an eye-roll.

“We’ll see about that, Jeno.”

The streetlights cast dark shadows over the rows of cars parked outside Neo Tech, its large doors already halfway closed as you slowly come to stop, the engine of your Mazda humming gently in the silent neighborhood.

Inside, you can spot Jeno’s figure still moving around, his back towards the entrance as he seems to finish up for the night, clearing his workstation with a relaxed posture.

As your fingers tap the steering wheel, you debate with yourself for a second—you hadn’t exactly planned on stopping by the garage this late, yet you’re still there with a takeout bag ready to be shared, unpretentiously anticipating his reaction over the surprise.

After the race, Jeno had left you feeling something deeper than just curiosity, especially with a certain little moment lingering at the corners of your mind for the following days. Given how much he’s changed since first meeting him at the garage, you can’t help the growing expectation inside your chest, though you’d never be one to openly admit so.

Though before you can talk yourself out of it by overthinking, the sound of a door rolling open draws your attention.

While throwing a few goodbyes to the crew over his shoulder, Jeno steps outside, eyebrows instantly furrowing in surprise as he spots you. Closing the garage behind him, shrugging a black hoodie jacket on, he walks towards your car with a knowing smirk breaking into his face.

As he approaches, Jeno bends down to your window, holding an arm over the car’s roof. “If you’re here for Jaemin, he left a few minutes ago.”

“I’m here for you, actually,” you say, holding back a grin of your own at his bemused expression. “You said I should buy you dinner first, so that’s what I’m doing.”

His eyebrows shoot up briefly, the smirk widening into something caught between disbelief and amusement. “Dinner, huh?” Jeno repeats, tilting his head as if to get a better read on you. “Didn’t take you for someone who’d keep tabs on promises like that.”

“Well, I’m trying to keep things interesting for you,” you quip, starting the engine again before looking up at his figure, still leaning against your car. “I’ve got food and I know a place. Are you coming?”

Jeno just shakes his head, laughing softly as he steps back towards his GT-R. “Lead the way, let’s see what you’ve got.”

You can’t help the spark of satisfaction warming your chest as his car rumbles to life, soon pulling onto the neighborhood’s main street right behind your RX-7. Glancing in the rearview mirror every now and then, Jeno’s got the same expression from the day he’d raced you, serious and focused enough that you almost don’t resist suddenly pulling him into a challenge.

The road stretches out ahead to a highway shortcut, the city glowing in the distance as both of you escape from it for the night.

As the buildings and bright lights start giving way to rolling hills and open fields, you lead Jeno onto a dirt road, following it until a secluded, almost undetectable clearing. The space’s quiet, surrounded by trees, with a clear view of the stars above and the city’s skyline far ahead.

Jeno steps out of his Skyline first, looking around with attentive eyes. “Nice spot. How’d you find this place?”

“My brother,” you answer, the diner’s bag in hands as you join him with a small smile. “He used to bring me here when I was a moody, grumpy pre-teen.”

Taking a seat on the hood of his car, Jeno hums softly. “Not anymore?”

Debating with yourself as you watch him for a moment, the words slip from your mouth with surprising ease. “He passed away, so not really,” you say, snickering softly at the quick change in his expression. “It’s been a long time though, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m still sorry,” he starts, voice shifting to a quieter tone. “Can I ask what happened?”

You sigh wistfully, moving to sit beside him on the GT-R’s hood before starting to set up the food between you. “Would it be weird to say that I have no idea?”

Jeno frowns, visibly caught off-guard by the odd answer. “What do you mean?”

“I still don’t know what happened,” you repeat, humorlessly huffing a laugh as you pick up a fry to start. “He just… went out of town for a race one day and never came back. Vic was the one to break the news to me.”

A flicker of something you can’t read crosses his face, though he quickly recovers by offering a half uneasy, half reassuring glance. “I’m not sure what I should say—”

“It’s fine, Jeno,” you interrupt, deliberately lighting up the mood with a growing grin on your lips. “We should probably talk about how you’re letting me drive your car back to the city today.”

As Jeno chuckles, his gaze is steady but softer than usual. “You really don’t waste time, do you?”

“What can I say?” you joke, taking a sip of your milkshake with a coy shrug. “I’m a very focused person and right now my focus is exactly getting behind the wheel of your GT-R.”

Still not breaking eye contact, he shakes his head to resist his grin from growing. “So you win a few races and suddenly think that earns you the keys to my car?”

Your fingers are playing with the straw of the cherry drink as you smirk at him, tilting your head for added effect. “I mean, I did buy you dinner like you asked,” you counter, clicking your tongue. “The least you can do is uphold your promise.”

“Was it a promise?” Jeno asks, feigning confusion with a quirked eyebrow. “I don’t remember that.”

“Do you want me to remind you?” you shoot back, leaning just a little closer to taunt him. “You said that I should buy you dinner before you let me ride it. Remember that?”

As he huffs a quiet laugh, shaking his head again, there’s a subtle hint of a blush dusting Jeno’s cheeks. “You’re relentless.”

You smile teasingly, leaning back on your hands against his car. “Well… you’re thinking about it, aren’t you?”

You barely finish the sentence before Jeno suddenly leans over your frame, closing the distance between you without hesitation. The kiss catches you completely off guard, your breath hitching as his lips meet yours. For a moment, your mind goes completely blank, overwhelmed by his unexpected action.

Jeno’s hand firmly holds your jaw, anchoring you in place with the same intensity as he’s kissing you—almost as if he’s acting on an impulse after holding himself back. You can’t help giving in, something warmer and deeper quickly melting the surprise as you instinctively kiss him back, your fingers tightening around his hoodie.

As he pulls away, exhaling a laugh against your mouth, his forehead lingers close to yours. “Sorry, that wasn’t part of the deal.”

You blink at him, trying to pace yourself again as heat rushes through your cheeks. “Not really,” you admit, grinning softly with a light-hearted shrug. “I’m not complaining, though.”

Jeno rubs the back of his neck, the action laced with a hint of bashfulness that contrasts with his usual composure. “Maybe I shouldn’t have—”

“I hope you’re not implying I’m a bad kisser,” you cut in, squinting your eyes in mock annoyance before pulling back with an exaggerated gasp. “By the way, was that you giving your car to me or is this just an attempt to trick me out of it?”

He laughs, the sound coming off low and genuine, his eyes almost sparkling under the dim light. “What if it’s both?”

A grin immediately tugs at your lips before you lean forward, pressing a quick smooch to his mouth with a giddy laugh. “I’m racing your GT-R next time then, just so you know.”

Jeno shakes his head, holding back a smile as he purposefully looks away to the city’s horizon in the distance. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

Your laughter softens as you settle back against the hood of his car, attentively watching his profile. “So I’ve been told a few times,” you answer with a playful shrug. “I prefer to think of myself as ambitious, though.”

He smirks, glancing sideways at you with raised eyebrows. “Ambitious is definitely one word for it.”

“Oh, come on,” you tease cheekily, bumping your shoulder lightly against his with a smile. “I know you like me, it’s okay to admit it.”

Jeno hums, shaking his head as something akin to tenderness flashes in his eyes for a second. “I’ll admit you keep things… interesting.”

The weight of his words subtly change the mood, especially as your heart takes the lead by racing annoyingly fast for your liking.

As the night stretches on, the two of you fall into an easy rhythm of conversation in between bites of your usual order from The Bluebird, exchanging a few stories and memories here and there. The night air feels cool against your skin by the time both of you finish, momentarily falling into a comfortable, yet charged silence.

Jeno breaks the pause with a deep breath, glancing at his watch with a touch of reluctance. “It’s late,” he says softly, offering you a knowing glance. “We should probably head back before someone finds us here.”

Though you know that nobody’s going to find the secluded place so late, you hum softly before hopping off the hood of his car. Just as you’re about to take a step towards your Mazda, Jeno holds you back by the arm. You watch as he silently takes off his hoodie, draping the fabric over your shoulders with a satisfied nod.

Before you can thank him, he gently grabs one of your hands, pulling it out of the long sleeve with a chuckle.

Then—the keys of his green Skyline GT-R are in your palm.

Your jaw drops as you stare down at them, blinking in both disbelief and excitement. “Are you serious?”

Amused by your reaction, Jeno smirks challengingly. “You wanted to drive it, didn’t you?” he asks, leaning closer as his voice drops. “If you make it to the city in under 10 minutes, I’ll let you actually race it.”

You can only snort, tiptoeing to press another kiss to his lips. “We’re on.”

Driving his car through the highway as you head towards the city again, watching him closely follow behind with your Mazda, you can’t help but feel like the night has set something in motion—something you’re more than ready to see through now.

Looking around, Jeno can’t remember the last time he’s been in a conference room.

The place smells like burnt coffee, the hum of its fluorescent lights almost serving as white noise to mask the unnerving silence surrounding him.

As he sits in the large, secluded corner at the agency for the first time in three months, Jeno can’t help nervously clasping his hands over the table, waiting for Doyoung to arrive.

The walls, covered in bulletin boards that display very specific files and photos, are a twisted reminder of the reason he’s there in the first place. A folder lies in front of him, his jaw tightening at the sight of it every time he glances at the worn out edges and stained cover.

As the door suddenly clicks with a loud sound, Doyoung is quick to step inside, his sharp, intimidating features immediately softening upon seeing him in person again. Holding another handful of files, the oldest manages a brief side-hug, offering a pat to Jeno’s back before settling on a chair at the head of the desk.

“It’s good to see you in one piece,” Doyoung starts, leaning back against his seat with a knowing glance in his direction. “Sorry that we pulled you out on short notice, the order came from high-up—”

Jeno shakes his head, pursing his lips in a tight line. “It’s fine, I was probably up for a check-in anyway.”

The agent regards him for a second, humming in agreement despite the flicker of reservation in his eyes. “You were,” Doyoung admits, nodding curtly. “We’ve been looking into your intel, and it adds up with what we have so far.”

“I thought we’d already established that the last time we talked,” Jeno answers, glaring at his co-worker impatiently.

“We did,” the man agrees, resting his elbows against the desk before huffing a peeved scoff. “Except Victor’s not a middleman like we thought, he’s actually the head of the entire thing.”

Jeno leans back against his seat, the weight of the information settling in after a second. “You’re telling me Vic’s the one running the smuggling operation?”

Doyoung nods again, sliding a file over the desk. “Everything points back to him—the money trails, the coded messages, the shipments’ timing,” he explains, his expression seemingly hardening by each word. “He’s not just managing the cargo, he’s intercepting it and passing it forward internationally.”

His jaw tightens, eyes quickly scanning the pages. “What’s his deal with the races?”

“Recruitment ground, maybe? That’s what we gathered from your intel, anyway,” Doyoung clarifies, offering a shrug. “He needs good drivers, fast ones. What’s a better way to have that than making them yourself?”

The memories of his conversations with Jaemin instantly resurface in Jeno’s mind.

Despite the relationships you’ve built through your brother, most with the guys from Neo Tech, Victor has still played a key role in your life by guiding you, eventually molding you into one of the best racers in the city. The connection isn’t just a passing detail— now it feels deliberate, purposeful.

If Victor’s been intentionally shaping and recruiting racers, then his investment in you isn’t just about talent and skills alone.

Jeno exhales slowly, voice giving away a hint of stress. “What’s the next step then?”

“There’s new shipment coming next week. They’re planning to take it out of the city, so we’ll be looking out for that,” Doyoung starts, leaning back with an apologetic wince. “I know it’s not what you want to hear, but we can’t bring him in without solid evidence... we’re getting close, Jeno.”

“Can I join the team on that?” he asks, his expression hardening.

The agent raises an eyebrow, clicking his tongue at the request. “It’s risky but I’ll see what I can do,” he answers, hesitating for a second before shooting Jeno a meaningful glance. “I know I’ve asked before, but I just want to be sure we’re still on the same page about—”

Even though he knew it was coming, Jeno’s stomach still twists at the mention of your name. “She’s not a problem,” he firmly cuts in, body quickly growing tense. “She’s just there to race, nothing more.”

The oldest studies him carefully, visibly cautious despite the insistence. “Are you sure about that? Victor needs good drivers, and if she’s the best one in the scene—”

“I’m sure,” he interrupts again, his fists subconsciously clenching under the desk. “She’s not part of the operation.”

“You know that I trust you, Jeno,” Doyoung says quietly, though not looking entirely too convinced. “I hope you know what you’re doing. If you get too close, it’s not just you who could get hurt.”

“I’m just doing my job,” Jeno argues, glaring at the agent in a way that looks too forceful to feel genuine. “I’m undercover and she gets me closer to the scene, that’s all. I’m not about to compromise the investigation, Doyoung.”

The agent simply nods, sliding another file across the desk. “We’ve also got something new from the surveillance team. Do you recognize these names?”

Scanning the list of names printed on the paper, Jeno points at the last two ones. Shotaro and Sungchan. “I’ve seen these two race before… Vic’s drivers?”

“It seems like it, at least for the next shipment,” Doyoung confirms, regarding him with a knowing look. “If you can scout anything about them at the garage...”

He nods, closing the file before roughly pushing it over. “Sure, I’ll get back to you.”

As Doyoung gathers the files together, a deep exhale suddenly escapes from his mouth once silence settles in the conference room again.

“Now, I’m asking you as a friend, not as a co-worker or an agent,” he starts, almost sounding exasperated under his characteristic concern. “It’s been three months. Are you sure you can keep doing this?”

The agent watches him attentively, his cranky professional facade slipping for a moment as Jeno clocks a hint of apprehension on his face.

Doyoung has always been more than just a co-worker, having stepped into an older brother role from the moment he’d joined the agency as a fresh-faced, out-of-school rookie.

Over the years, the oldest had become a steady presence in Jeno’s building career as one of the top agents in the team—whether through a firm warning when he pushed too far on something or simply seeing his potential when no one else would, there isn’t a single doubt that Doyoung holds a significant place in his life now.

Still, Jeno can’t help hesitating over the question, ultimately nodding despite the weight behind his words. “I’m fine.”

The agent doesn’t answer right away, watching him as though waiting for something. “Well, you don’t really seem like it,” Doyoung counters, standing up from his seat with the files in hands again. “You look like a guy who’s starting to lose sight of what side he’s on. I’d know about that.”

As the oldest steps aside to leave, the silence feels heavier than before, settling between them like the unspoken truth that Jeno’s been tightly safeguarding. Opening the door, Doyoung squeezes his shoulder in reassurance, nodding firmly despite the softness in his eyes.

“You’ve got this, Jeno.”

The sound of tires crunching against the gravel outside your place immediately draws your attention, a familiar engine’s hum echoing through the quiet evening. A small smile tugs at your mouth as recognition settles in, the sound almost unmistakable by now. Peering outside the window, you watch as Jeno’s green GT-R comes to a smooth stop into your driveway, a quiet warmth blooming in your chest.

It’s been a couple of days since you last saw each other, both staying busy enough with work and life between race days.

In the three months since Jeno first challenged you, your relationship—or whatever that you can possibly call it—has slowly become something that’s been lingering in a space with no definitions or expectations.

Though neither of you are entirely sure of what to call it, even under the occasional teasing quips from Neo Tech’s crew, you’ve come to realize that you don’t really mind it. There’s a certain comfort in not overthinking it, trusting Jeno to exist in your life in the way he does—steady but gently, with an ease that feels very characteristic of him.

The evening chill rises shivers on your bare legs as you step outside, smirking at the way Jeno’s figure is sitting on the hood of his car, hands tucked into the pockets of a bomber jacket. His head lifts slightly at the sound of your quick footsteps, a groan escaping from his lips as you jump against him, arms wrapping around his neck in a tight hug.

“Hello to you too,” Jeno starts, sounding nothing but amused as you pull back, a hint of surprise giving him away for a moment. “Didn’t think I’d get this kind of welcome today.”

“Why? Did you think I’d only do that when we’ve got an audience?” you ask, your tone playful as you stand between his legs, arms now loosely holding him. “I’m a loyal girl, Jeno Lee.”

He nods solemnly, a sudden flicker of seriousness catching his eyes. “I know you are.”

“You could’ve texted me,” you argue, sighing dramatically as you give him a glare. “We could’ve gone out if I knew you were coming tonight.”

Jeno smiles, his hands lightly squeezing your hips before pulling you closer. “What if I wanted to surprise you?”

Rolling your eyes, a grin spreads through your face before you can stop it. “You’re lucky I’m in a good mood today,” you tease, taking a step back again as you reach for his hand. “We can order some dinner then, I’ll know just the place—”

“I can’t stay tonight, Cherry,” he cuts in, gently stopping you with an apologetic glance. “I’m leaving town for a few days, I just wanted to see you before I go.”

As the words catch you off-guard, you blink confusedly at him. “You’re leaving? What for?”

“Family stuff,” Jeno answers, a heavy sigh escaping from his lips. “It came up suddenly but I’ll only be gone for a few days, a week at most.”

You frown, pursing your lips in a pout before giving him a playful curious glance. “Family stuff? That’s all I get when there’s probably gossip?”

Jeno laughs, shaking his head in amusement for a second. “Gigi’s been rubbing off on you,” he teases, voice soon dropping to a mix of reassurance and tenderness as he exhales. “It’s not that exciting, I promise. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“You could’ve told me earlier,” you mutter, your fingers playing with the zipper of his jacket, purposefully avoiding his gaze. “The next race’s gonna suck if you’re not going to be here.”

His fingers grasp at your chin, lifting your face up until your eyes meet. “You’re the main part of these races, so I doubt that’ll happen,” he counters, clicking his tongue with a sly, playful grin tugging his lips. “I’d let my car with you but I’ll need it, so…”

With a scoff, you half-heartedly swat his chest. “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

He doesn’t answer, instead pausing the conversation for a moment with a soft brush of his thumb along your jaw, the warm touch contrasting against the evening. You lean closer first, but Jeno’s quick to capture your lips in a kiss that’s both tender and lingering, his hand moving from your face as he gently cups your neck.

In the comfort of his arms, you completely lose track of time—the sounds around you become white noise, fading into the background between his embrace and the softness of his lips, one kiss turning two, then three, and so on.

The loud rumble of a specific Charger pulls both of you from your shared bubble. Jeno’s arms drop slightly, though his hands remain resting at your hips as Vic suddenly comes into view on the street. The atmosphere instantly changes it, Jeno subtly tensing while watching the man pull up beside his Skyline.

You don’t seem to notice the skeptical look on Victor’s face, greeting him with a smile once the car comes to a stop. “Vic? What’s up with you guys surprising me tonight?”

“Great minds think alike, Cherry,” Victor says, glancing between both of you with a grin that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just came by to say goodbye before I head out for a job.”

As Jeno’s eyes harden at Vic’s words, the quiet shift in his demeanor isn’t lost on you. There’s something in the way the two men regard each other in that moment—not hostile, but definitely not friendly either, leaving curiosity to gnaw at you.

With a half-hearted huff, you ignore the edge in their interaction, instead glaring at both of them. “Great, I’ll just ignore the fact that you’re both suddenly leaving and just wish you a safe trip, then.”

The man’s eyes flicker to Jeno for a second, a look of subtle recognition in his gaze. “I’m sure we’ll be back soon,” Victor answers, eyes returning to you again in a sharp glance. “You and I’ll talk when I get back.”

Puzzled by the striking weight in his tone, you hum with a hesitant nod. “Take care, Vic.”

It doesn’t take long until Victor’s car disappears down the street, the red tail lights slowly growing smaller into the evening. Jeno remains quiet in front of you, his hands still resting lightly on your hips, almost as if he’s distracted. You glance up at him, noting the tension in his jaw and the way his gaze’s been fixed towards the direction Vic’s just headed to.

Placing a hand on his shoulder, you raise an eyebrow as he glances back at you again, a touch of agitation in his eyes. “You okay?”

He blinks, expression softening slightly at your touch. “Yeah,” Jeno replies after a beat, his tone calm but not entirely convincing. “Just thinking.”

“About what?” you ask, gently hoping to pull him from whatever had him so lost in thought.

As he stands up from the hood of his car, moving both of you by a step, a half-hearted smile curls on his lips. “Nothing worth worrying about.”

“Everyone’s running off tonight,” you say, sighing in mock exasperation upon realizing that he’s leaving soon too. “Should I start taking it personally?”

“You should go visit Jaemin at the garage while I’m gone. He’s been missing you these days,” Jeno jokes, brushing his fingers against your cheek. “I’ll be back before you can even miss me.”

Not resisting the faint smile that tugs at your mouth, you roll your eyes. “Bold of you to assume I’ll miss you in the first place,” you taunt, though a little softer than intended. “Fine, I guess I’ll have to go bother him then.”

He’s the one to lean down for a kiss again, though it’s a gentle, soft one to your forehead first. It’s enough for you to tug him by his jacket, pressing your lips to his with a sigh against his mouth. When Jeno pulls back, he regards you for a second, almost as if he’s trying to commit your features to his mind.

You watch as he climbs into the GT-R, the engine roaring back to life in its familiar growl. Giving you one last look through the open window, a faint smile plays on Jeno’s lips.

“I’ll see you soon, Cherry.”

Crossing your arms, you smile tauntingly at him, the words slipping with a touch of fondness.

“We’ll see about that, Jeno.”

Outside the windows of his apartment, the city’s skyline is casted with a deep orange glow as the sun sets, drawing a picture that Jeno rarely indulges in whenever he’s at home.

Now that he’s back, the sight quietly tugs at the strings of his heart, especially after everything that has happened in the last few days. It sets a strange, confusing impression in his mind—one that makes him distinctively remember Doyoung’s words from last time.

The whiplash of feeling at home without really being at home rings several alarms in Jeno’s head, even if he’s been purposefully ignoring them for a while now. He still doesn’t know how to feel about the ease in which he slips in and out of… whatever this is supposed to be, having been toying so effortlessly with the line that draws his two personas.

Still, despite the noise in his head, you’re the one thing that Jeno’s felt recklessly sure about. He might not know what the mission can possibly mean to the future, but he knows what it means to him, at least for now.

The knock at the door leaves him anticipating something Jeno can’t quite tell.

It almost feels like he hasn’t seen you in months, his lingering eyes getting caught as you step into his place, walking past him with a smirk on your lips.

“Hi,” you say lightly, the familiar teasing touch in your voice pulling at his chest. “Did you miss me?”

“I don’t know,” Jeno counters, raising an eyebrow as an amused chuckle betrays him. “Did you miss me?”

As you pause for a second, your gaze suddenly hinting a mix of softness and apprehension, the last thing he’s expecting is to feel your arms wrapping him in a firm, almost distraught hug. The suddenness of it takes Jeno by surprise, his hands hovering in the air for a moment before settling reassuringly against your back.

“Hey, look at me,” he calls, pulling back just enough to catch your eyes as his voice drops to a concerned tone. “Is there something wrong?”

You’re quick to shake your head, offering a half-hearted smile in an attempt to brush it off. “It’s nothing,” you say, stepping back from his embrace with a glance around the place, expression shifting into something lighter. “What are we having for dinner today?”

Despite his hesitation at the moment, Jeno reluctantly moves on, the dinner eventually starting off easy enough with you raving over your love for the take-out menu he’s picked. It feels that way for a while as he listens to you recount updates from the crew at Neo Tech, your win at the last race that’s just marked your second five-win streak, a few tidbits about Jaemin and Gigi fooling around with each other.

Still, even through your laughs and the way you accept his touch every now and then, there’s a quietness about you today, an edge to the smiles that doesn’t reach your eyes.

The subtle pauses between your words, the heavy way your eyes linger on his figure whenever you think he isn’t looking—Jeno knows there’s something on your mind, even if you’re not saying it.

It isn’t until later, after the plates are cleared and the hues of oranges have faded to a blue evening outside the windows of his place, that your voice breaks the silence of his room.

“You’re not really a mechanic, are you?”

The soft flow of the bedside lamp casts a warm glow to your features, seemingly devoid of any emotion. With your head resting against his chest, your fingers have been idly tracing patterns against his skin, though it immediately stops as you feel his sudden tension.

The question hangs in the air for a second, Jeno’s heart beating hard enough that he’s sure you can hear it.

You lift your head to look at him, your eyes quietly searching for answers. “I mean… you’re good at it, you’re an amazing racer, but—” you pause, exhaling deeply despite the ease that you continue. “It just doesn’t add up, Jeno. I think you’re something else, and… I think I know that.”

It’s clear that you’re giving him a chance to deny, to tell you that you’re wrong. The tiny hint of hope in your eyes slowly fades away as his silence stretches, serving more than a spoken confirmation as it quietly tells you everything.

“Vic told me,” you say, voice barely a whisper. “He said you’re an agent.”

As you acknowledge the truth in the open, Jeno’s stomach sinks, a wave of unease crashing over him. He’d known that this moment would come, but not like this, not there or today or with you looking up at him like that.

“Is he telling the truth?” you ask, arms wrapping around knees as you sit up. “Is that why you’re here? Is that why you’re… with me?”

Jeno can’t seem to find the right words to answer, hating himself the longer his silence grows between you. It seems to be your breaking point too, leaving the bed to stand up a few feet away from him.

A look of exasperation settles on your face, sharp eyes glaring at him. “You’re not denying it, Jeno,” you urge him, your voice breaking for a second before you huff a bitter laugh. “Are you kidding me? Was any of this real or just part of your job?”

The answer is quiet, his voice almost cracking. “It’s not like that—”

“Right, then what is it like?” you snap, raising an eyebrow in a mock challenge. “I’m sorry, but it looks like you’ve been lying to me the whole time.”

Jeno exhales shakily, a frown set between his eyebrows. “I didn’t have a choice.”

“Didn’t have a choice?” you repeat, an ironic chuckle escaping from your mouth. “You had a choice to not approach me at all, you had a choice to lay me off ages ago, you had a choice to tell me the truth. How’s that for you?”

“It’s not that simple,” he argues, running a hand through his hair, jaw tensing for a moment. “I wanted to tell you, but… I just couldn’t. It’d put you in risk and I wasn’t about to do that.”

“So what? You just use me instead?” you start, anger crashing down as you suddenly grow quiet, your voice trembling. “Get close to me because it’d help with whatever you’re doing here?”

Jeno’s fists clench upon the tears brimming in your eyes, his breath turning shallow as he avoids your gaze. “No,” he mutters, firm enough to contrast against the flicker of dejection on his face. “This is not what this is.”

For a moment, he wonders if you’ve picked up the white lie, your expression unreadable as you simply watch him. He hates himself for lying to you, for letting you get close when he knew he couldn’t give you the truth. More than that, he hates how much he cares—how much losing you is feeling like losing something more important than his own job, than the entire investigation itself.

Shaking your head with a finality that’s almost meant to defy him, you harshly wipe the tears off your eyes. “Let’s just not do this anymore.”

Once the words click, Jeno can’t help but freeze for a moment before panic surges through him as you walk around the room. With shaky hands, you quickly gather your clothes, not sparing a single side-eye towards his direction.

“Look at me,” Jeno calls, voice raising to a rougher tone as he sits up, trying to get a look at your face. “Hey, look at me!”

Your movements remain frantic as you shrug a jacket on, continuing to ignore him as if you hadn’t noticed the hard change to his demeanor. Without a word, you head straight to the door, the tension between you thick enough to feel suffocating. Jeno groans, his chest twisting in frustration and regret as he scrambles off the bed.

Just as your hand reaches for the doorknob, his hand closes around your upper arm, pulling you back with a careful force.

You finally turn around to face him, hurt and anger laced to your features. “What?”

“I don’t want to see you at the next race,” Jeno orders, the weight of his stony eyes visibly surprising you for a second. “Don’t go.”

As you frown, your confusion is evident, body almost relaxing under his touch. “What?”

With a glare, he makes sure that the words are not a request, but rather a command. “Don’t come to the next race, Cherry.”

The anger in your gaze hardens into something more painful as you pull your arm from his grasp. “Fuck off, Jeno,” you say, the venom in your words cutting deep as you open the door, this time without hesitation. “I’m the one that doesn’t want to see you at the next race.”

The door closes with a simple click, sounding miserably loud to the silence of his apartment now.

Jeno’s fingers curl into fists at his side, a ragged breath escaping from his lips as he stares blankly at it. Though the thought feels just as hollow as his lies, Jeno tells himself that maybe it’s better this way. After all, the job does demand sacrifice—relationships, connections, anything that can possibly jeopardize his missions.

Now left with the company of his heavy heart, Jeno wonders how many times he’ll have to tell that lie in order to convince himself instead.

The night air feels thick with tension as Jeno comes to a stop outside the warehouse, parking in a spot away from the usual crowd and their curious eyes. The race’s just about to start, a few cars already lining up with the blasting music in the background as usual.

Race days are always charged with a raw energy that he’s grown accustomed to, one that never failed to make him feel alive—but today, it feels skeptically different.

Jeno can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong tonight, despite Doyoung having already warned him about the change of plans in the investigation after his cover was blown by Victor. For a moment, he wonders if that’s just his mind playing games. While keeping his distance from you, Jeno has been subconsciously waiting for the other shoe to drop, anticipating you to eventually expose him.

His arrival plays out as nothing out of the ordinary though, Jaemin and Taeyong waving off from a distance as he steps out of the car, walking through the swarm of people to scan the racers of the night.

A part of him knew it was futile to warn you off the race, no matter how much he didn’t want you anywhere near the place tonight, regardless of the operation falling apart or not. It almost surprises him to not spot your Mazda at the starting line until he sees you, standing a few feet away from the grid while talking to Gigi, both of you visibly bickering.

He knows that your presence’s probably making things a lot more complicated to him.

The frustration quietly builds in his chest, mostly out of his own impotence than your choice to disregard his instruction. After all, the more he thought about it, the more he realized—if Vic knows about him and has kept quiet the entire time except to turn you against him, Jeno can’t really protect you, not without giving himself away or ruining the investigation entirely.

Given they most definitely are getting too close to Victor’s home, it feels fitting for the man to pull his own strings somehow.

The man’s presence at the race today is a dead giveaway of that, standing by his black Charger with a few of his shady-looking guards, watching the audience with an air of stress to his face. Jeno can’t help noticing the way his eyes keep flickering through the lot and the racers, almost as if expecting something.

Not having enough time to prod further, Jaemin suddenly approaches with a pat to his back, eyeing him with a flicker of both curiosity and exasperation in his gaze.

“You should probably fix whatever happened between you and Cherry,” the mechanic starts, snickering almost bitterly. “If neither of you are racing, who’s going to make this entire thing exciting?”

A chuckle escapes from his lips, Jeno relaxing for a second as he shakes his head at the guy. “I bet Gigi would love to hear that.”

“Please, it doesn’t seem like it but Gigi worships her,” Jaemin discloses, the playfulness on his face quickly fading to a mock warning look in his direction. “Don’t tell Cherry that if you don’t want Gigi to fuck you up.”

Before he can respond, the cars roar to life with Johnny’s voice, revving engines interrupting the conversation as the usual procedure starts.

The crowd tenses once the countdown starts, flag up in the air.

Then, a sharp screech of tires breaks through, the sound of approaching sirens getting louder by the second, flashes of blue and red lights quickly surrounding the warehouse. The crowd scatters around in a frenzy, running off in panic while the racers attempt to break through the chaos through a few secret exits.

This is part of his job—the chaos, the unpredictability, the apprehension. Jeno knows better to keep it cool, keep the cover intact for as long as he can despite everything, even if it means keeping you out of it.

But you aren’t leaving.

With Jaemin hurrying off, shouting something about meeting at the garage and finding Gigi over the booming sirens, Jeno’s eyes easily find you in the havoc of people. You’re frozen in place, simply watching the commotion with wide, confused eyes.

“Get out of here!” he yells, shoving through the crowd as he rushes towards your direction, his outstretched hand waving you off. “Cherry! You need to fucking leave!”

You barely acknowledge him before staring at something else. Following your fixed gaze, Jeno finds Vic standing still at the same spot, unphased by the madness surrounding him.

Something about his calmness, his tranquility in the middle of the chaos doesn’t sit right with Jeno. It’s been long proved by the investigation that Victor Torres isn’t exactly on the up-and-up, but seeing him there, just watching the mess unfold in a way that feels almost detached makes a pin immediately drop in Jeno’s mind.

Whatever’s happening tonight was not an accident—it was planned.

As he approaches you, Jeno quickly grabs your arm, guiding you away from the commotion when a sudden bang echoes through the air. Over his shoulder, he watches your body suddenly lurch as something sharp seems to cross your shoulder. You stumble, your hand instinctively reaching for the spot as Jeno pulls you closer, holding you steady as his eyes frantically search for something.

The sight of blood running from your neck and down your arm surprises him, anxiety rushing through his body as he exhales shakily. “Fuck!”

“Jeno,” you call, eyes wide with shock as your shaky hands fist his jacket. “What the hell is happening?”

“I don’t know,” Jeno answers, trying to keep his voice steady in an attempt to mend the visible fear in your eyes. “You’re going to be okay, we’ll get out here.”

A burst of gunfire sends the place into mayhem again, both of you almost losing balance over your feet as Jeno half-carries you, shielding you with his body on the escape.

It feels like a lifetime until you reach his car, the way your body grows weaker by each second sending chills down his spine. He’s quick to help you onto the passenger seat, slamming the door shut and rushing to the driver’s side, barely managing to reach for his phone before emergency-calling Doyoung.

It rings once, the agent’s distressed voice coming off the speaker just as Jeno starts the engine. “What’s happening?”

“You fucking tell me, Doyoung,” he starts, the tone suddenly ragged in anger as he reverses out of the corner, picking up speed while expertly dodging the few stray racers still around. “Why the fuck is the police here? I thought the plans had changed—why the fuck are they here opening gunfire out of nowhere?”

“The police’s there?” Doyoung asks, giving away his aggravation even through the phone. “We didn’t send anyone, the plans really have changed. Can’t you identify them?”

“There’s no time for that,” he bites back, hands tightening around the steering wheel as he takes a look at your unmoving, quiet figure. “She’s been shot, I’m taking her to the hospital.”

“Shit,” the agent curses, an uncharacteristic behavior that feels fitting to the sudden weight of the situation. “I’m calling the team, we’ll see what we can do. I’ll meet you at the hospital, wait for me.”

The call disconnects as Jeno takes a back exit inside the warehouse, acutely aware of your silence. You’re gripping the seat with loose fingers, breathing uneven as you stare ahead, eyes unfocused. As his Skyline reaches an empty alley on the way out of the lot, Jeno presses the accelerator harder, feeling as if there’s not much time left.

“Look at me,” Jeno calls, the words ironically bringing a bad taste to his mouth as he presses you, still not looking at him. “Cherry, look at me!”

As you turn to him, your eyes are looking far too unfocused and dazed for his comfort. “Where’s Jaemin and Gigi?”

“At the garage,” he says, rushing to answer with an ease that he isn’t currently feeling. “They’re fine. I’ll call them—they’ll meet you at the hospital.”

Jeno feels his composure crack the longer he looks at you, taking in the blood staining your clothes and the way your breath’s slowly growing uneven. The road stretches ahead as he speeds further, though all he can focus on is the time slipping through his fingers no matter how fast he’s driving.

Pulling into the hospital’s entrance, the tires of his GT-R screeching against the asphalt, Jeno doesn’t even bother parking properly.

As he hurries to your side, his movements grow increasingly desperate upon noticing you abruptly losing consciousness. Swinging the door open, Jeno scoops you into his arms, your head falling against his chest as your breathing slows down.

The staff immediately rush to him as he walks through the sliding doors of the ER, fast to take you from his hold. The sight of your unconscious figure on the stretcher feels crushing, leaving him to just stand there with clenched fists as a sense of helplessness seems to weigh him down on the spot.

It’s just when Jeno hears Doyoung calling for his name that he breaks out of the trance, turning around to find the agent’s disgruntled, but worried figure quickly approaching him.

“Hey,” Doyoung greets, the low tone not masking the urgency laced to it. “How’s she doing?”

Stepping back to lean against the hospital’s wall, he can’t help huffing humorlessly. “What the fuck was that, Doyoung?”

“I’m still not sure, our team’s still looking into it,” the agent answers right away, sighing tensely as he glances knowingly at the youngest. “It definitely wasn’t us… but taking a wild guess? I don’t think the police were part of it.”

Jeno’s jaw clenches, his eyes narrowing in annoyance. “Are you saying that was Victor?”

Doyoung shrugs, scoffing a dry laugh. “He’s got the means for it, that’s for sure,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest with an eye-roll. “With us pushing back the operation, he had more than enough time to plan something.”

With a frustrated exhale, Jeno runs a hand over his face, features hardening into a frown for a second. “Listen, I don’t think my cover’s blown—”

“Don’t worry about that,” Doyoung interjects, cutting him off with a firm, yet reassuring nod. “We’ll handle the fall-out, Jeno.”

Over the older agent’s shoulder, Jeno suddenly spots Jaemin hurrying into the hospital. The mechanic’s eyes dart around the room for a moment until finding him, suspiciously eyeing the scene before taking a few steps closer. Noticing the shift on Jeno’s face, Doyoung follows his gaze, raising an eyebrow as Jaemin stops beside them. The agent is quick to take the hint, clapping Jeno’s shoulder before leaving with a mumble about needing coffee.

Jaemin breaks the silence first, his usual playful features heavy with a mix of concern and exhaustion. “What happened? Is Cherry okay?”

Unsure of how much to reveal given his position, Jeno can’t help hesitating. “She got caught in the middle of gunfire,” he replies, pausing for a moment before glancing apologetically at the mechanic. “I got her out as fast as I could.”

“We’ve been safe for years, the cops have never bothered us before,” Jaemin argues, nervously running a hand through his hair, frowning in confusion. “Why today?”

“I wouldn’t know,” Jeno answers, trying to keep the tone as steady as possible despite the truth behind the words. “It didn’t seem like they were targeting anyone specific, if that’s worth anything.”

As Jaemin regards Jeno for a second, a chuckle escapes from his mouth, the sound coming off sharply. “She told me.”

He feels his chest tighten, taken aback by the unexpected twist. “What?”

“You’re a cop, right?” the mechanic asks, voice down to a quieter, solemn tone. “Cherry told me everything and made me swear I wouldn’t tell anyone, not even you or Gigi.”

Shaking his head with a deep breath, Jeno feels the weight of his persona pressing down on him heavier than ever. “I’m sorry.”

Jaemin shrugs, surprising him by huffing a short laugh. “I’m not the one you should be apologizing to,” he says, a flicker of something softer crossing his eyes. “Just… whatever you’re planning, make sure it doesn’t screw both of you over more than it already has.”

The nurse’s voice suddenly cuts the conversation, Jeno faltering for a moment as both of them look up at the same time, their shared tensions immediately replaced by a sense of relief with over words.

“One of you can go in and see her now.”

The soft beeping of the monitor fills the silence of the hospital room, contrasting with the lingering, annoying buzz still echoing in your ears. The bandage on your neck feels perfectly snug, covering the bullet’s graze almost down to your shoulder.

After the chaos of earlier, you can’t help but feel misplaced once the nurse leaves, unconsciously replaying the entire night in your mind—the loud, sharp gunfire, the panic in his voice during your escape, the detachment you’d fallen into. It doesn’t take long until Jeno slowly steps into the room, features guarded despite the softness in his eyes upon meeting yours.

There’s a sense of hesitation in the way he moves, almost as if he’s unsure of his own presence around you. Taking a seat by the chair beside your bed, the silence between you holds for a second, only for Jeno to break it with a tired sigh first.

“Hey,” he greets quietly, glancing at the bandage on your neck with a touch of attentiveness. “How are you feeling?”

You shrug instinctively, the stiffness in your movements betraying a light discomfort. “It wasn’t as bad as it felt,” you say, placing a careful hand over the bandage with a dry chuckle. “It was just a graze. I’m just bad at handling stress and blood, apparently.”

Jeno leans forward, elbows resting on his knees as he looks up at you, his features looking nothing but distressed. “I’m really sorry, Cherry.”

Your lips twitch for a moment, a bitter smile almost tugging at your mouth. “For what, exactly? The cops raiding us or the lies you’ve been telling me?”

“For all of it,” Jeno answers, the words firm and steady, willingly taking the bite behind your question. “I know it’s not an excuse, but my team’s not involved in whatever happened. We’re looking into it, but…”

At the sudden pause, you lean back against the pillows on your bed, letting out a weary sigh. “Why do I feel like I know what you’re going to say?”

Jeno chuckles humorlessly, shaking his head with a grimace. “I think… I should tell you the truth about me first, right?” he begins, taking a deep breath before locking his eyes with yours again. “I’m an undercover agent. I was assigned to this case a few months ago, to investigate Victor and his crew.”

You swallow hard, doing your best to keep yourself from reacting despite the weight of his confession, the implications subtle. “What does Vic have to do with this?”

“He’s the head of an international smuggling operation in the city,” he reveals, almost looking apologetic over the words. “Everything you can think of, he’s got it—money laundering, trafficking, weapon deals. We’ve been looking into his business for a while, but it’s… complicated. He’s careful, his crew’s good.”

“Is that why you got involved with me?” you ask, the tone of your voice thoughtful, yet not particularly soft. “Did you think I was working for him?”

As he frowns, Jeno’s gaze hardens for a moment. “I’m not lying to you anymore, so I won’t say that I didn’t.”

With a hum, the words are quick to slip out of your mouth, almost too casually for the situation. “I’ve been looking into him too, you know,” you admit, chuckling quietly at the surprise on his face. “After that night, I started digging a little. I’m sure you know how easy it is to connect the dots if you keep your ears open around the racers.”

Jeno sighs, his eyebrows furrowing apologetically. “Cherry—”

“I’m not working for him,” you interrupt, frustration and disappointment laced to your broken exhale. “I don’t know what you know, but I—”

Reaching over for your hand, Jeno gently stops you from fidgeting. “I know you’re not,” he cuts in firmly, his gaze locking onto yours, the heaviness in his voice softening. “I know, baby.”

The unexpected nickname hangs in the air, catching both of you off guard. As the surprise breaks through your frustration, Jeno seems just as much taken aback, his lips parted as if realizing the slip a little too late. For a moment, the weight of the moment shifts, leaving a charged silence between you.

“So, what are you going to do now?” you ask, clearing your throat as if to recompose yourself, looking away from him. “Are you keeping the cover and continuing the investigation?”

“The investigation’s compromised now so…” Jeno hesitates, huffing a peeved laugh before slumping back against his seat. “I’ll probably have to leave. Victor knows who I am and if I stay… it’ll be just dangerous for everyone.”

You nod slowly, heart aching in a way you hadn’t anticipated. “You’ve got to do what you’ve got to do,” you say quietly, managing a playful smile despite the tears burning in your eyes, threatening to fall. “For what it’s worth, I don’t regret any of it. It was nice trusting you, Jeno… even if only for a little while.”

He looks at you then, his expression pained as a shaky sigh escapes from his mouth. “Cherry—”

Shaking your head, you silently fist his jacket to pull him up, Jeno immediately following as he stands up with a step closer to the bed. As he leans closer, carefully holding himself over your figure, you cup his face gently. Your fingertips brush against his cheeks, moving to his lips before you close the distance, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to his mouth.

The struggle in his eyes is clear as you pull back, though Jeno doesn’t say anything. Instead, he just nods, forehead resting against yours for just a moment more before he stands up.

With a long look at you, Jeno pulls a set of keys from his jeans, reaching for your hand and dropping them into your palm. A genuine, incredulous laugh escapes from your lips over the realization, immediately drawing a small smile out of him.

“You take care of yourself, Cherry,” he says softly, the nickname carrying more emotion than ever before.

You nod, a half-hearted, teasing smile slowly growing on your face despite the ache in your chest. “I’ll see you around, Jeno.”

As the door clicks shut behind him, you know that this the end of whatever it was you’d built together—but only the beginning of something you’ll have to build alone now.

“I can’t believe this is your first vacation since joining the agency.”

Stepping out of the elevator, Jeno lets out a soft laugh at Doyoung’s exasperation, the man walking beside him as they make their way through the lobby.

Despite the cool air conditioning of the building, the bright sunlight slipping through the glass doors hints at another warm, heavy summer day outside. Jeno tugs at the tie around his neck, loosening the knot before undoing the first buttons of his shirt.

“Taking days off under orders is hardly a vacation,” he replies, his tone dry but laced with humor.

Doyoung huffs, shaking his head as they near the building’s exit. “God knows you need some time off,” the agent argues, glancing at him knowingly. “Maybe you should go to the beach these days, you could use some vitamin D—”

As his friend continues the spiel, Jeno quickly glances outside, about to step through the glass doors when his attention’s caught by an unexpected, but familiar sight.

Outside the agency’s building, the green Nissan Skyline GT-R contrasts with the muted, neutral colors from the other cars driving through the same street. Sitting at the hood of the car, flipping a cherry red lollipop between your fingers, you look like a mirage to Jeno’s eyes, maybe a vision brought by the heat from outside.

“—not listening to me?”

He blinks at Doyoung after a second, startled by the agent’s hand waving in front of his face. “What?”

With a suspicious frown, Doyoung trails his eyes in the same direction, a sound of surprise instantly escaping from his lips. “Is that who I think it is?”

He nods, resisting the smirk tugging at his mouth. “Yeah.”

As recognition suddenly flickers in the agent’s gaze, a scoff escapes from his lips over the car, his tone laced with disbelief. “So that’s where the Skyline we gave you went?”

Jeno chuckles, offering a half-hearted shrug at his friend. “I paid for it.”

“She’s technically a criminal,” Doyoung starts, more playful than anything, giving him a mock indignant glance. “You do know that, right? It might not seem like it but street racing is illegal—”

“I’ll see you later, Doyoung.”

Jeno’s voice cuts the oldest’s teasing, moving to step ahead through the door as Doyoung snickers behind him, shaking his head in amusement.

It doesn’t take long for you to notice him approaching, your lips soon curling in a soft, somehow teasing smile. Despite his surprise, Jeno doesn’t hesitate stepping closer, moving to stand between your legs in a familiar move.

“Hey,” you greet, offering a pat to his chest in a coy manner. “Long time no see, huh?”

“Seven months, exactly,” Jeno answers, giving a firm nod before raising a curious eyebrow at you. “I’m not complaining, but what are you doing here?”

You sigh exaggeratedly, tilting your head at him. “You know words are quick to get around, right? I heard your first vacation ever starts today.”

“You’ve heard it right,” he says, smirking at your antics as if the past months hadn’t happened, a sense of familiarity settled between you.

As you smile, something softer flickers in your gaze. “So I was thinking… if you’ve got some time off, maybe you’d want to spend it doing something cool,” you start, shrugging lightly. “You know, like going for a drive or racing with someone?”

For a moment, Jeno can only stare at you, still taken aback by your abrupt appearance. Then, without thinking twice, he suddenly closes the distance between you, hands reaching for your face as his lips finally meet yours again. Smiling against his mouth, you lean back as your palms rest against the car’s hood, the kiss so unhurried and lingering that Jeno almost pushes you down against it after a while.

When you pull away, his lips still following you for a split second, a smile grows on your face.

“So,” you say softly, your voice laced with amusement. “Is that a yes?”

Jeno grins, hands on your hips as he pulls you off the Skyline, arms holding you closer as if you’ve never left.

“Let’s see if you’ve still got it.”

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @saranghoeforanton @tywritesstuff

#lee jeno #lee jeno x reader #jeno x reader #nct fic #nct dream fic #lee jeno fic #jeno fic #nct fanfic #nct dream fanfic #neocitylights

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written-in-flowers · 1 day ago

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The Places Between Us: The Goblin Merchant: (OT8 X Fem!Reader)

Pairing: Kang Yeosang x Fem!Reader | Side pairings: Hongjoong x Fem!reader, Ateez x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut, Angst, fluff | AU: Fantasy!au

Word Count: 13k

Summary: Being brought to Tin City by goblin traffickers, YN is brought right to the palace of the Merchant Prince, Yeosang, who takes an immediate shine to her. Unfortunately, his plans might be the end for her.

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

Overall Tags: dub-con, mind control, enslavement, kidnapping, forced breeding, monster fucking, sex work, mentions/implications of abuse, mentions/implications of SA, stockholm syndrome, public sex, exhibitionism, humiliation, degradation, breeding kink, bigdick!Seonghwa, bigdick!Yunho, DoubleDick!Yunh, monster fucking, face fucking, throat fucking, undead sex, sex w/ undead, belly bulge, anal sex, anal fingering, vaginal sex, multiple positions, multiple orgasms, squirting/vaginal ejaculation, slight size kink (height wise), overstimulation, facials, cum swallowing, choking, dom!ateez, sub!reader, tit fucking, sex toys, bondage, multiple partners, threesome (m/m/f), orc!jongho, naga!seonghwa, demon!hongjoong, dragon!yunho, undead!mingi, goblin!yeosang, lycan!san, lycan!wooyoung.

Taglist: @binniesbabe @stay-tiny-things @oiminho @babymbbatinygirl @sopematesxx @pirana10 @juicyjaxxy @corgilover20 @kinkymaminicole, @londonbridges01 @readerofallthingss @dvbkie099 @cpg2020 @raralxyne, ((if you want to be tagged for future chapters, let me know in the replies!)

Part 4: The Lycan Brothers < | > Part 6: The Orc Warchief

****

Ace and Sprocket kept you in the cage all the way through the forest. You didn’t bother asking where they were taking you. You already knew.: Tin City, the goblin capital of the world. An industrial cityscape, smog and smoke turned the blue clear skies a murky green and brown. Factory smokestacks went high up into the sky, covering the mountain range beyond from view. Buildings made of metal, Tin City was the most technologically advanced city in the kingdom. Electrical lampposts glowed on the side corners, while motor cars rode up and down the cemented streets.

By passing banks, clothing stores, and houses, Ace eventually drove to a large building in the heart of the city. Dozens of people walked in and out of them: some hauled large crates or sacks over their shoulders, others stood outside haggling over goods on wagons, but it was the cages you noticed. People of all races stayed chained inside them like you, frightened of their goblin captors holding long electrical cattle-prods.

Above the large door was a sign of two crossing gavels. An auction house.

“Hey, Rambo,” Ace called out to a goblin standing outside the house’s gate. “What’s the word on the street?”

“Word on the street is that cayenne spice prices are low and cloth bolts are going sky high,” he responded in a rough voice. He took a puff of his cigar, then said, “The Bookies down in the Oil Trap are taking bets on tonight’s dog fights. Rumor is Yeo’s got his dogs in the game. I’d get my slips in if I were you.”

“Good to know, good to know,” he replied, nodding in understanding. “Look, I got some product to move and I was hoping to let the big guy get first dibs.” He nodded to the cage behind him, “Any chance you got any extra invites hanging in those big pockets?”

“I might have one or two,” Rambo said suspiciously. “Five-hundred each.”

“Five-hundred?”

“You want in the party or not, Ace?”

“I ain’t paying-”

“-Ace, we’ll make it all back when we sell this off,” Sprocket said. “Don’t get stingy now.”

“Ugh fine, but if this is a bust, you owe me, Sprocket.”

Rambo eyed the cage as Ace dug out his wallet. He spotted you curled in the corner and smirked. “Hey, if Yeo isn’t interested,” he said to Ace, “Can I get an hour with the human? I love ‘em.”

“We’ll see. Thanks for the invites.”

Ace climbed back into the car, and drove away. Great, another warlord you’re being sold to. You didn’t see how you’d be getting out of this place. It was too crowded, and too many eyes lurking on the streets. You’re sure the place is lit up even in the dead of night. Closing your eyes, you tried not focusing on the slight vibrations the car’s motor sent throughout the cage floor. It faintly tickled your bare center, and you recalled the two goblins taking equal turns on you. Maybe they’d do it again if this ‘Prince’ didn’t want you. They might decide not to sell you and keep you chained up for personal use. The image had you dripping in minutes.

Then you shook it away.

They drove up a hill to a large palace made of metal and stone. A long line of cars went through a guarded gate one by one, likely having their invitations checked by large, armored trolls. Your stomach churned seeing one of them check Ace and Sprocket’s invites, declaring them valid, and letting them drive on through. Yes, there’d be no getting out of this place unarmed. Goblins tended to have armories or sell weapons. “Yeo” might be in the weapons business and have something useful lying around.

Driving up into a foyer between entry gate and palace gate, you saw dozens of goblins dressed in flashy clothes with jewelry and hair ornaments. Everyone looked decked out in their finest clothes for this occasion. Suddenly, you became aware of your dirty appearance. You scratched off some of the mud caked on your thighs, and tried fixing your matted hair.

Ace was directed to a special area in the parking lot for “party supplies”. Sprocket went around to the cage door while his partner handled the proper documentation. Roughly tugging each woman out of the cage, he hooked one leash to the back of the other and put cuffs around everyone’s wrists. With the wrist cuffs and leash chained to the girl in front of you, the four of you had no choice but to walk in sync. You saw nearby goblins spotting you in your dirty, naked state and laugh behind their hands. The three women in front of you at least wore ragged clothing. You only wore your boots and your blanket.

“This is the product?” A goblin said from a doorway as they approached. He had skin like an orange peel and eyes black as onyx gems.

“Yeah,” Sprocket said, “Four ladies.”

The goblin looked all of you over. “A bit grubby looking, especially that one at the end. Take them to Trixie. She’ll get ‘em cleaned up.”

“Gotcha, thanks.”

Sprocket marched you to another room where you saw people being scrubbed down, hosed off, and then forced behind dressing curtains. Stylists walked to and from the booths with aprons holding hair supplies or makeup. Some of the victims fussed in their chairs and had to be restrained. You saw one woman be prodded with an electric rod when she tried leaving her styling chair. Another man was beaten with a heavy club when he fought off the female goblin trying to fix a pair of tiny shorts on him. The ones who weighed your heart were the defeated ones. Men and women who’d become so used to the routine that they complied automatically. The misery in their eyes struck your chest.

“Oh gosh! What happened to this one?”

Your captor brought you over to a singular booth where a goblin in a shimmery purple top and matching skirt stood holding a pair of scissors. Her bright blue hair tied behind her head, she’d bought sapphire earrings to match. She stared at you, stunned and shocked as she started circling you.

“Found her in the woods,” Sprocket answered. “You think you can fix her up? This one’s got lots of potential. She’s a real money maker, trust me.”

“Hm,” the stylist, Trixie, took in your features from several inches below, “I got my work cut out for me. She’s pretty. A good scrubbing, a bit of styling and a nice dress will get people fighting for a bite of her. Plex,” she called to another female goblin, “Give her the basic makeover. Put her in the red number.”

“Sure thing, boss-lady. Come on, you.”

Plex unhooked your chains and tugged you along. The “bath” consisted of a harsh rinse, itchy sponges and brushes, sickly-sweet smelling soaps, and another cold rinse. Plex stuck you underneath a vent that blew hot air through your hair and body, which dried you in minutes, then took you to a dressing station. One goblin got to work on your makeup while another started styling your hair. They commented on your beauty. They claimed they’d never seen a human so pretty before. You’d be a real big deal once you got on the party floor.

In a skin tight crimson dress bordered with black lace, you’ll admit you looked great. The fishnet stockings just barely touched the end of the short dress, and the black heels gave you a few more inches. They’d decided on a thong for your underwear, but no bra since the dress came with a built-in one. It stuck between your cheeks, only bringing back your arousal. Thankfully, the three goblins were too focused on your face to notice the mark on your back.

“You did a damn good job, Trix,” Sprocket said when you were brought back to him. “I hardly recognized her. I think we might have a shot at getting in Yeo’s good graces. Ace wants his endorsement.”

“Good luck getting it,” Trixie replied. “Yeo’s hard to please.”

“This little gal won’t have a problem pleasing him,” he chuckled, slapping your ass and giving it a squeeze. “Ain’t that right, honey?”

“You’re so uncouth, Sprock,” Trixie scoffed, shaking her head. “Lug,” she called to a nearby troll, “Take these favors up to the party.” She considered you for a moment, “Take her to Yeo’s VIP section with the other specials. He might be interested.”

“Uh-huh,” the troll, Lug, said in a hoarse voice. “Come favors.”

“Hey, so, Trix, are you going up to the party when you’re done?”

Lug took you and the others from the prep room and up a flight of stairs. The loud music hit you through a metal door, bathing your senses when he opened it. Goblins of all shades hung around a massive pool, a few wearing bathing suits while others stayed in their finery. They drank champagne, liquor and beer. They ate from hearty plates of hor'dourves, and played with fireworks. Some played card or dice games in one corner, the loser groaning and winner cheering. You couldn’t help noticing the men and women wearing collars and being tugged around by goblins and trolls. In one particular corner, you saw a young fairy maiden dancing in nothing but a bikini bottom. The goblins around her hooted and hollered, waving paper bills at her. Another male slave sat on a couch while two female goblins groped and caressed him. Neither looked pleased by this, and you frowned.

The troll brought you over to a large cabana set up near the pool. It was roped off to keep out the ‘riff-raff’ of the party, and you saw personal servants supplying food and drinks to those inside.

“Favors,” Lug said to a bouncer posted outside.

The bouncer looked over the four chained women. He started walking along the line. “Nah, not this one. He’s got plenty of ‘em. You can give this one off to Weegel,” he said about the elf in the front. He walked to the siren beside her, “Nah, he don’t like fish girls. Nils will take her though, and Yeo’s got to keep her happy if he wants her ships.” He reached the red-haired fairy with her green wings, and shook his head. “Jard doesn’t mind the glitter or the wings. I’m sure the seller will get a good price for her.” Then, he stopped in front of you. He didn’t say anything at first and you dreaded the worst before he unhooked you from the line. “We’ll take this one.”

Lug nodded, then dragged the other girls away. The bouncer took you into the tent. Whoever owned this section kept it styled with comfortable seating, and plenty of food, drink and entertainment.

“Hey, boss,” the bouncer called to someone on the opposite side, “I got a nice favor for you. Courtesy of Ace Crank and Sprocket Botguard.”

“Do I know those guys?”

“You know Ace,” he responded. “Green guy? Got two gold teeth? Sounds like he’s been chain smoking since birth?”

“Ah, yeah, I remember him. Bring her here.”

The bouncer pushed you forward. Sitting on a velvet purple throne was a younger goblin. Wearing a leather jacket over a glittering green button down, he stood out from the well-dressed people around him. Firstly, his beige skin separated him from the green and brown goblins sitting near. He had black hair streaked with neon green, matching his shirt and the belt around his jeans. His large, wide ears had golden hoops along the bottom edges, as well as a stud in his left nostril. He sat leaning back in the chair with a female goblin in a bikini on his lap. She was smiling at him, refilling his champagne glass as she flirted with him.

However, that stopped when he finally looked over at you. Brown eyes scanned over you in your red dress and black heels, intrigue instantly coming through in a small smirk.

“Well, hey now,” he said, pushing the girl off his lap much to her protest. “What do we have here?”

He left his chair and walked over to you, finishing his drink in the process. His eyes came at level with your chest, which suited him just fine as that’s what he focused on the most. Having him so close, lust coming off of him, had you fighting off the burning in your mark.

“Since when does Ace have such nice merchandise?” he asked nobody in particular, circling you slowly. “She’s fine. Super fine. What’s your name, doll?”

“YN.”

“YN…” he let the name rest on his tongue, then said, “I like that. It suits you.” He gave your ass a gentle squeeze that you forced yourself to not react. “Ooh, yeah, that’s nice. Let me get a little peek of what you got back here.” You bit your inner cheek as he lifted the back of your dress just over your ass. “That’s a nice ass you got here, doll. Ain’t it nice, Vixel?”

“Very nice, boss,” the bouncer agreed.

“Do you know who I am, babygirl?”

“No.”

“Then you must not be from around here.” He hummed softly when he tugged on your thong, tracing it with his finger and pulling it aside for a moment. “I’m Yeo, Trade Prince of the Northern Seas. I own a fleet of a thousand ships that move products all over the kingdom. I’ve traded with kings and queens, lords and ladies, and all the rest. Even Lord Kim sometimes buys off me. I’m a big deal on this side of the kingdom. Everyone owes me, and everyone pays.” He stopped playing with your thong and moved to the front, “I’m a hardworking man, you see, so every now and then I like a bit of comfort and stress-relief. I think every man deserves that, right?”

People around him agreed, and he nodded. He started feeling up your sides, starting at your hips and sliding to the curves of your breasts. Yeo smirked when he noticed your hard nipples poking out, but didn’t touch them.

“How about you sit with me, baby, and tell me how you got to my humble abode?”

He brought you to his chair, a throne big enough for two and handed you a drink. The fizzy pink drink tasted like strawberries, and was oddly refreshing. It was the first proper thing you’d consumed since your last stop before reaching Tin City, which had been a slice of bread and water. Beside him, your tits stayed at his level, which he enjoyed immensely. Being so close to him feeling his hand slid over your thighs, had you dying for more. This was why you needed to escape.

“Where are you from, baby?” Yeosang asked, nuzzling your neck.

“Gold Rush. It’s in the south,” you said, sipping your drink.

“I figured that. You got that southern girl look about you,” he said. “I do a lot of good business down there. Have you ever heard of Vernon Chwe? I do business with his Pop. It’s mostly grain and wheat, but it’s a steady income.” The name made you tense, and Yeosang noticed this. “So you do know him. I bet he’s gotten a crack at this a few times,” he gave your thigh a squeeze. “I know I'm going to later,” he murmured, staring at your cleavage. “What brought you so far from home?”

“Wanted to get out,” you shrugged. “See the world and all that.”

“Ha, looks like you got to see the world alright,” he laughed. “But, maybe you were meant to go through all those trials to get to me.”

“Maybe.”

“Hey, Yeo!”

As he talked to a friend, you stared around the pool area. The high fence keeps intruders out and slaves in. The guards positioned around the place held various weapons ranging from daggers to pistols. By the look of them, they wouldn't hesitate to shoot you if you tried escaping. You were screwed. Totally screwed. How could you get out of here? Maybe you should have listened to the voice.

A sudden moan broke you from your head. You looked up to see one of the elf dancers bouncing in somebody’s lap. They’d taken off her top, so her breasts jiggled whenever she moved. This obviously pleased the goblins around her, who egged her on with suggestive, lewd comments. Being an elf, she towered over her partner who was several feet shorter than her. Long silver hair curtained a heart-shaped face, and pale lavender skin shone with a light layer of sweat. By the cuffs on her wrists, you knew she had no choice in this matter, but was so beaten down, she accepted her fate. Seeing her half-naked, riding the small goblin, and letting out wanton moans, you gulped thickly. You drowned out the rising arousal with your drink, hoping it cooled your cheeks, but it didn’t. Soon, people around the group noticed.

“Do you like watching, doll?” Yeosang asked in your ear, his hand sliding up your thigh.

“N-No,” you lied, though you couldn't take your eyes off the elven girl.

“Eh, I don’t think that’s true,” he clicked his tongue. His hand went back down to your knee, then to your inner thigh again, fingers treading lightly over it. “You’re staring at her pretty hard. Do you like girls?”

“Um, uh, well…”

“God, that’s hot,” he exhaled deeply, taking your answer for a ‘yes’. “I have plenty of other girls we could play with another time. Tonight, baby,” he ran his hand up to your chest, playing with your neckline, “I want it to be you, me, and my toys.” His breathing got slightly heavier, and he licked his lips. You gasped when he slid onto your lap, fitting there like a child might. “It’s so rare to find a girl who gets me hot like you do,” he said, starting to gently tug down the top-half of your dress. “The others do well enough, but…damn, not like you…”

You held back a gasp when he finally revealed your breasts. He groaned softly at the sight of them, supple and filling his hand when he grabbed them both. His thumbs tracing the outer rim of your nipples, he placed tender kisses up your neck. You glanced back over to the elf, who was starting to shake as they’d spread her out for another goblin to lap at her clit. Around the room, you saw people in various positions already enjoying one another. While the normal party carried on outside, Yeosang’s VIP tent became a full on orgy section. Your body instinctively started grinding into your partner’s groin, feeling the hard bulge poking the middle.

“I think I’m in love,” Yeosang chuckled, licking one of your nipples. “A hot girl with nice tits who’s dying to fuck me? How lucky can a guy get?”

The ball pierced to his tongue started whirling around your nipple, the metal grazing over it each time. You pictured it in other places as he grinded against you. Yeosang lost himself in his own world; your body being the world he wanted to explore. His cock pressed to your stomach mostly, and you were tempted to touch it.

“Go on, baby,” he groaned, your tit popping out of his mouth, “Grope me.”

Not big at all, you imagined his size worked wonders on regular goblin women. For you, it might only go halfway. Yeosang let out a low groan when you cupped her entire crotch, fingers rolling over his balls while your palm pressed to his short shaft. He buried his face between your breasts, humming and licking where he could while teasing your nipples. He kissed up to your neck.

“Bet I can make you cum just by playing with these,” he said, sucking on the tender part of your chest. “Want me to show you?”

“Yes.”

Yeosang went back to fondling, sucking and licking your breasts. You clenched your thighs as you continued stroking him. Your mark radiated heat through your dress, the fire adding another layer of pleasure. Yeosang’s pierced tongue ignited the small sparks on your nipples that went to your center. He made small patterns, licked in different angles and sucked hard on them until you were squirming in his chair. It was like a drug. You kept wanting more even when he took it further. Hand working his crotch, the other slipped into his hair to hold him against one breast. Your walls started clenching for some stimulation; the wetness pooling in your thong turned your folds sticky and slippery, so you could feel them move when you squeezed your thighs. Feeling your grip on him tighten, Yeosang continued groaning against you and squeezing your breasts. You suddenly shuddered, wriggling in the seat as your orgasm hit you. In a few jerking motions, it ended.

“Good, huh?” He said, kissing your puckered nipples.

“So good,” you nodded, “My turn.”

He eventually rolled back into his seat and you felt the slight tingle in your mark on your back. All the desire in your body flared up like a firework, and every part of you felt sensitive to his touch. You got down on your knees without being told, causing Yeosang to lean back and watch you start kissing his hard bulge. His cock was right underneath the layers of denim and cloth, hot and begging for your touch. You rubbed along the thick shaft a few times before unbuckling his trousers.

“That’s what I like,” Yeosang moaned, lips parted, “A slut who does it without being told.”

He wasn’t long, but he was girthy. Flushed pink with a hot red tip, you started softly kissing the bulbous head while looking up at him. Your pussy throbbed just licking him. Like with Seonghwa, the act alone aroused you. Realizing how much he liked your breasts, you didn’t waste time in burying him between them. Yeosang shifted in his seat at this, gripping one arm rest while the other teased your nipple. Spitting on the tip, you used it to lubricate him. His dick completely disappeared between your soft mounds, the tip only just poking out each time you met his hips. The goblin prince let out strings of moans and praises while you worked him. You loved hearing the deep groans you created, the sound of them turning you on more. Soon, desperation had Yeosang holding both breasts and pushing into them himself. You slipped two fingers over your dripping cunt, spreading the mess over your velvety lips and folds.

“That’s right, baby,” he said, groaning when you took the head in your mouth. “Play with yourself for me. I want you soaked by the time I use my toys on you.”

Moaning freely now, you whimpered as you rapidly rubbed over your clit. It was too much, but somehow not enough. His precum spilled onto your tongue, and you eagerly sucked it up. So good. So sweet.

“Come on,” Yeosang said hurriedly, “Get in the house. I’m fucking you now.”

Nobody noticed you being ushered into the house behind the tent. The people inside hadn’t realized the orgy going on just a few feet from the door; too busy drinking and dancing to care. Yeosang nearly dragged you upstairs, then into a locked bedroom.

Yeosang did not hide his wealth at all. Expensive art pieces decorated the walls, with a walk-in closet full of expensive, tailored clothes. Big enough for eight people or several goblins, the bed was covered in deep plum blankets and sheets. Even with his shortness, Yeosang handled you without a problem, nearly throwing you onto his bed before jumping on top of it. You moaned as he forced your legs open and buried his face in your cunt. He threaded the thong between the smooth lips, leaving just enough cloth over your clit to leave it exposed, then licked at each side. His tongue briefly touched the sides of your clit, which had you writhing for more.

“Delicious,” he groaned, “And so wet. I’m definitely keeping you, pretty girl. Your cunt is all mine now.”

“Yeo…Yeo…” you breathed his name, grabbing your chest to squeeze them for him.

“That's right, baby doll. Say Daddy's name. I want to hear you screaming it.”

“Yeo!” you cried when he rapidly licked at it.

“My name sounds way better coming from that sweet mouth,” he groaned. “Goblin chicks are too high or too low. I like a nice medium. An instant favorite.”

He tugged the underwear upwards to tighten the fabric between your lips, creating a rubbing that pushed your hips to his face. Yeosang sucked up the juices leaking from your entrance, groaning at the taste and digging for more of it. You whined when he pulled away to tear off your thong and dress. Hunger and eagerness had the goblin tearing at the expensive silk and lace, eyes feasting on the body becoming exposed to him.

“Don’t worry, babe,” he said, “I’ll buy you a whole wardrobe of pretty clothes when we’re done here. I don’t leave my girls naked for just any guy to see.”

Since he was so much shorter, his head only reached up to your chest if he wanted to stay pressed to your pussy. He didn’t mind this, since he buried his face in them when you squeezed them together. His keenness became more obvious when he removed his own clothes and showed off his slim, lean body to you. It made you ache to touch him again. He reached to an end table, and you bit your lip when he took it out. Small, pink and egg-shaped, you had no idea what it was though you sensed its purpose.

“Open wide, baby,” Yeosang breathed, eagerly watching as your body sucked in the small toy.

In a few seconds, a sudden, light vibration started inside you. You gripped the pillows as it overwhelmed every conscious sense. Each vibrating pulse crept through to your center where you grinded up into the air. When Yeosang's tongue went back to flicking your clit, you nearly came right then.

“That….That feels so….Oh god,” you cried out, unable to handle it any longer.

Yeosang knelt up, tapping his cock on your sex before slowly slipping the toy further inside with it. Not long enough to reach fully inside, the toy made up for the rest by vibrating against your g-spot. It felt a million times better than anything you had before. Stars exploded behind your eyelids as your orgasm burst within you, Yeosangs's careful thrusts only just pressing it further on you. Yet, even after the body shattering climax you wanted more. The burning mark made you endure more of him, craving the cum he carried.

“Such a pretty girl,” Yeosang said, slipping out to withdraw the egg toy. “We're only just getting started, baby. You'll get what you need from me soon.”

He rifled through the nightstand for another toy, a wand with a ball at the end. As expected, the moment Yeosang pressed it on you, you trembled all over. The pinching sensitivity sparking from your clit brought equal measures of pleasure and pain. You moved away from the toy before Yeosang brought you down with surprising strength. He moved it side to side, cooing when you shook.

“Yeo-Yeosang!” you cried.

“How does that feel?”

“So good! Oh my god!”

“It'll feel even better soon, I promise.”

That was when he plunged himself past your walls again. His thick shaft stretched you considerably; you could feel the pressure, even if it was painless. The toy worked one side, his cock twitched and pulsed against your walls. He kept one knee up to his shoulder, your leg draping over and accentuating his small size compared to yours. Only three feet tall, he couldn’t reach for much but his toys made up for it.

When he gave your clit a break, he rolled you onto your front and pushed a small plug right to your ass. The mark branded on your back and Mingi’s spell made your body pliable to any form of pleasure he could give. It was all you felt. Pushing the silicone toy in time with his steady thrusts, you screamed into the pillow from the overpowering pleasure. Yeosang kept you pinned down as he charged forward. His small, lithe body made it easy for him to spread out and bounce on you, hips hitting your bare cheeks. Small noises and panting moans escaped him as his orgasm came.

“Ooh, baby,” he huffed, digging the plug in further as he went faster, “Such a good little whore. Are you my whore? Say it. Say you're my whore.”

“I'm your whore, Yeo,” you cried, eyes closed as you gripped the sheets. “I am.”

“Put this toy here,” he stopped to put the vibrator underneath you. Its muffled buzzing joined your frustrated whimpers. “How's that?”

“Good! It's so good!”

“You want my load, doll?”

“Yes! Yes please, Yeo! Give me your load!”

“Then make me cum,” he grunted, smacking your ass, “Make me cum and take all of it in your filthy fucking mouth.”

Neither of you lasted much longer. You sobbed into the pillow as a second wave came over you, and your cum shot out onto the bed.

“Open up,” Yeosang rolled you over and climbed up your body to your face. “Swallow it.”

You latched your mouth to the tip, sucking hard until the gooey substance painted your tongue, lips and cheeks. Gulping whatever flew in your mouth, you immediately started sucking to try getting more. Yeosang gripped the headboard tightly, rocking his hips back and forth as he cried and whined above you. Finally, he jerked out the last few droplets, moaning when they fell into your open mouth, then he finally collapsed beside you.

“Whew, that was-Hey, hey, now, what's this?”

You'd straddled him suddenly, regardless of how much space you took up. Hands on either side of his head, you began slamming yourself up and down on his cock. It'll get hard again soon. It wasn't a problem. The hunger spiraled deep, having you rocking on Yeosang who only watched in awe. You knew you should stop, yet the curse kept its grip on you.

“Was it that good, baby?” he huffed, hands on your hips. “It was so good that you want to keep going?”

“Yes! Your cock is so good! I love it so much!”

“But, I’m still soft,” he said, looking at where you both met.

“Don-Don’t care,” you whined. “I nee-need-d- it.”

It seeped itself into every part of your body. You nearly ached with the pain of need for it. You kept riding Yeosang as he grew hard within you, not stopping despite the exhaustion starting to come over you. Your body begged you to stop, yet you couldn’t. When you pulled him onto you, Yeosang held your thighs up and pounded you hard. Simply having him use you for his own pleasure fed the hunger building. The party raging outside, you’re sure somebody would eventually walk in and you hoped they did. The more, the merrier, you thought as Yeosang pressed the bullet toy to your hard nipple. This newest addition, thoughts of that pretty elf in bed with you, and Yeosang’s meaty length created another orgasm almost immediately. Yeosang filled you with his stringy semen, groaning in time with each push.

Sweat plastering thin strands of black and green to his forehead, Yeosang fell back onto the bed. You saw the tiredness in his eyes, a small satisfied smile on his face. Your own body weighed with the same sluggishness, but you still reached for his cock. The ability to fight off the curse completely left you. You could only think about his cock deep in your throat, throbbing and spilling his savory cum down it. Holding down his tiny hips, you worked him right into your mouth. Sucking the mix of your own essence and his cum off his length, you slurped the tasty beads coming out of him.

“Hey, calm down,” Yeosang said, “It’s sensitive.” He tried pushing you off, but you only started stroking him.

“Please,” you whined, licking the red tip, “One more time.”

“We can, but just give me a minute,” he chuckled, managing to get out from under you. “A guy can only go so many times,” he went over to a liquor cart where he poured himself a drink, “Plus, I got a party to go back to. A host can’t leave his guests unattended.”

“Screw those guys,” you hissed, “They don’t even like you. They’re just hoping to get in good with you so you’ll sponsor their pathetic businesses.”

He laughed, “Oof, you got fire in you, babe. I like that.” He gulped some of the amber liquid, “Come on. I’ll pick out something for you in my closet. I think I got stuff from my last girl here somewhere.”

He didn’t get it. Nobody did. The fire continued blazing even as he started rifling through the closet. You spotted the wand discarded on the bed, and immediately took it up. Instant relief buzzed through you once that vibrating head touched your overly sensitive cunt. Laying on your front, hips lifted off the bed, you grinded against the toy. Hongjoong wouldn’t stop. He’d go for as long as you wanted. You remembered the time you did it from dusk to dawn, only stopping for short periods. Something about your lover kept you going and it never hurt. Touching him, holding him close to your naked body as he sunk deep into you always brought you to orgasm. You wished it’d been him instead of Yeosang, instead of all of them. You yearned for his hands and lips. You wanted to hear his voice again, and see his face light up when he sees you. As you rutted against the toy, you longed for your boyfriend.

“Sheesh,” Yeosang said as he came back into the room, watching you shudder from your pleasure, “You can really go, huh? I’m definitely keeping you now, doll.” He put a low-cut green top and a black skirt on the bed, then walked to the door. “My boys could use a nice reward for their loyalty….”

It was heaven. Yeosang returned with a group of his personal guards, who all hooted when they saw you dripping on the bed. Keeping you on your stomach, each guard took their turn and you came every time. Sweat gleamed on your skin, matting your hair and wetting the sheets by the time they’d run through you. When the seventh guard got done with you, you were twitching and fading on the bed.

“Thanks a lot, boss!”

“You’re a real one, sir!”

“That’s some hot snatch you got there. Lucky guy.”

Their words did not bring on the shame you’d become accustomed to feeling. You felt your body slump, and you tried hiding your face from a gloating Yeosang. He gave your bottom a few delicate pats, then ordered a servant to wipe you down. The servant, a dark-haired female fairy, said nothing as you laid there. She gingerly cleaned you off, being careful with the tender parts, then offered you food and water. You had no taste for it. You only ate because she expected it. You noticed the woman’s small breasts underneath her bikini top and pictured Yeosang fucking them.

“You’ll get used to it,” she said, speaking for the first time. “It gets easier, I promise.”

She must’ve thought you didn’t want it, but you didn’t know how to explain you did. In a way, at least. You pulled on the clothes Yeosang left you, but had no desire to go downstairs. People likely heard what happened by now, and will no doubt jest about it. You stayed sitting on the bed, the musty scent of sex hanging in the air around you, and thought of Hongjoong. He wouldn’t have let this happen unless you asked. He would've fought off each and every person who tried harming you. The shield who'd protected you was somewhere off in the world while you're here suffering from this wicked curse.

You got up from the bed. Slowly, you went down back into the house. Nobody noticed you walking amongst them, despite being significantly taller than most of them. The smell of cigarettes, booze and sex started filtering through the house, and you needed to get outside. Yeosang had taken up his seat in the tent again, drinking from a glass with a girl holding a plate of food for him off to the side. You kept your distance as you waited on him to notice you. You hoped he never did.

“There's my doll!” Yeosang cheered when he spotted you. “A real prize,” he told the merchants around him, “She took all of my guards like a real champ. I could barely get her off me,” he laughed with his men. “You should've heard her! Little slut could've kept going for hours, I bet.”

The leering smirks of his companions deepened your shame. Hongjoong would've pummeled the little gremlin for speaking about you that way. You wished you hadn't lost your necklace. It would have been such a comfort now. A guard pushed you towards Yeosang, and you sit next to him. You supposed you'd play along for the moment. Not meeting anyone's eyes, you only listened to Yeosang.

“Say, how's your fleet faring these days?” One of the goblins asked Yeosang. “I heard the south's putting up some blockades in the ports.”

“We're still getting product through,” he answered. “I got a guy who's in good with the dockmaster, so I can still get stuff going through there. Yeah, supply lines are rough with the war starting up, but hey, everyone needs resources, right?”

“Whose side you taking?”

“Lord Kim, who else?” he asked. “The guy is a legend. That little southern king doesn't know who he's messing with. I'd back off if I were him.”

The name peaked your interest. “Lord Kim? Like, ‘The Dark Lord’ Lord Kim?”

“Yeah,” he said. “He's this demon lord who lives in the mountains. The guy rarely comes down.”

“And when he does, he's got this big ass dragon of his!” said one of the goblins. “The damn thing is always scaring my dogs and sheep. I can't get them to calm down.”

“I wish he'd park that thing outside the city,” said another. “It freaks me out.”

“He has a dragon?”

“Huge beast,” Yeosang nodded, sipping from his cup. “Aerion. It can spit this icy fire stuff that can turn anything instantly into a popsicle. In the war, my Pops told me he used to freeze whole armies and we'd blast through them like paper. Lord Kim isn't a guy to cross, baby, so when he comes I want you to be a good girl and bend over if he asks.”

“He's coming here?” You tried keeping the hope from your voice, covering it up with fear. You purposefully held onto him. “Really?”

“Don't get scared,” he rubbed your back. “Kim ain't like that.”

Dread mingled with the sliver of hope. Sadly, the only person who can pull you from this mess is another slave owner. You doubted Kim would be any gentler with you. Various escape plans came through your head, but none sounded successful. Those guards will fill you with bullets. Yeosang won't let you out of his sight or out of arm's reach. There are too many people to bolt through. Lord Kim might be your only way out of this after all. You regretted leaving the lycan camp now. He might have shown up there, and taken you from the pig pen.

But no, hubris fgt in your way.

“When is he coming?” you asked Yeosang, easing into his embrace and playing with a green strand of his hair.

“Tomorrow or the day after, maybe. It doesn't take him long. He just turns up when he turns up,” he replied. He nuzzled your neck, giving a soft kiss, “I won't let him take you from me, no worries there, dollface. You're Yeo's girl now, and ain't nobody getting in between us.” He planted more kisses down your neck, “Dance for me. Show my buddies what a lucky guy I am to have someone like you.”

Deciding appeasing this goblin could get you closer to your goal, you stood up and began swaying your hips. Yeosang’s eyes stayed on you as you danced to the up-tempo music. The sensual vibe flowed through you, and you moved to the beat. Yeosang is another client, that's all. Make him feel special and content, and you might get your chance.

You spent the night catering to Yeosang’s every whim. You poured him drinks. You filled his plates. You danced and stripped for him. You even helped him cheat at cards like you'd do with Vernon. Powerful men were the easiest to fool. If they feel like the self-proclaimed kings they are, you can get anything you want. Ace and Sprocket were more than happy when Yeosang showered them with money and favor.

“You're perfect,” he mewled drunkenly, watching you gulp the rest of his wine. “I've never had a slave like you before. You're an angel created by the gods just for me, for sure.”

“Maybe they're the ones who brought us together?” you suggested, leaning down to play with his gold chain. Twirling it around your finger, you said, “I feel that way, don't you?”

“Yeah,” he breathed, a fog of spirits coming from his lips. “Totally. It's not a coincidence that you show up on the night of my biggest party. The gods must've looked at me and went ‘let's give this guy a nice plaything’.” He gave a lopsided smile as he wrapped his arms around you, “Marry me.”

You laughed, “You're drunk.”

“Marry me, doll, and you'll be the Merchant Queen,” he insisted. “You'll be decked out in the finest clothes, the shiniest jewelry….you'll be driven around in the nicest rides, with a party yacht and a whole bunch of servants to serve you….You'd have me…” he put his hand up your skirt, squeezing your thigh. “In your bed at night, fucking you exactly how you deserve to be fucked. Be my wife, dollface. I promise I'll be super good to you.”

“I’d be a terrible wife,” you shook your head, laughing, “I don’t cook or clean.”

“We have people for that, babe!”

“I can’t guarantee faithfulness.”

“Me neither.”

“I don’t want children.”

“Good, they’re annoying and bring more trouble than they’re worth.” He lifted his cup for you to fill, which you generously poured wine into. Yeosang gulped, not minding what spilled from the corner of his mouth and wiped it with his sleeve. “You’re a slave, anyway. You gotta do what I say and I say that we’re getting married!” He nearly pushed you off as he stood up, raising his glass and addressing the room, “Hey everyone! I’m getting married!”

The partygoers all cheered, raising their own glasses and draining them with him. “Sels,” he called to a red-haired goblin standing by the bar, “Get the florist on the horn and tell him we’re gonna need five hundred pink and white roses! Call that dressmaker on Flint for a bride and groom fitting! And the catering company we used for Pop’s sixieth…”

Yeosang stumbled away, barking orders at the young woman who instantly grabbed a planner to write them down. You didn’t take the man seriously. Plenty of drunk men proposed to you before, and they remembered nothing the next morning. When the liquor wears off and his hangover starts, Yeosang will forget he ever had the thought. You took up your own glass, filling it to the top with wine, and then starting to gulp it. If you were going to get through this curse, you might as well pile yourself with as much booze as you could.

****

“Morning, my beautiful bride…”

You groaned at the sound of Yeosang’s soft voice. Nestled underneath layers of cotton and silk, you grasped for the last moments of your dream. It’d been Hongjoong again, laying inches away from you in your bed back home. You think it was your birthday…

“Precious angel…Time to get up now, we got places to be…”

He’d come as a surprise visit. The both of you spent the entire day together in your little room. He’d taught you how to slow dance, since you’d never done it before. To the music of your old record player, Hongjoong held you close as you both swayed in unison. You never felt so close to one person until that moment. It had been then that you knew you loved him.

“Hey! Get up!”

White light blinded you from a nearby window. You groaned, the light burning your eyes and worsening your headache. Not yet. Not when you’d gotten a perfect image of Hongjoong’s smile in your mind. You held onto it as someone yanked the covers off you.

“I’m up. I’m up,” you grumbled, rolling onto your side as your stomach started churning.

Reality finally breaking through, you opened your eyes to see Yeosang standing near his dresser. His black and green hair damp from a shower, you saw him spraying deodorant as he spoke.

“Good, get some food in you and hit the shower,” he ordered, putting down the bottle. “We got some places to be today.”

“Where?”

You sat up and realized you were naked again. Judging by the vibrator and anal plug on the nightstand, Yeosang and you took another round of sex. Pushing hair from your face, you tried recalling exactly how many times, but couldn’t conjure up a number.

“First, we’re going to the boutique in town,” he said, going into his closet. “Hattie is the best dressmaker in town. She really knows how to make a bride shine.”

“Bride?! You were serious about that?!”

“As serious as a heart attack, sweetheart,” he replied. “She’s gonna make you a queen to fit my king. Then, Sels called down that florist for us to look over floral arrangements for the big day. I decided it’s gonna be at the Oil Trap. It’s this big music hall near the ocean. The guy who owns it owes me some favors, so your hubby pulled a few strings and got us the whole place for this weekend.”

“Wait, wait, wait-”

“-Just imagine it, babe: you in your pretty dress, me in a new suit, dancing the night away on the seaside. Ha, it’s the wedding my Ma always hoped I’d have. I’m having Sharpy Shrimp’s cater the event. Hexel is gonna do our cake, and she’s got some great ideas for it. I’m thinking of a seven-tier with different flavors. It can sit on top of a small fountain of champagne or wine or something fancy like that. It can have some little lace or fluff or flowers around it too. Make it classy, you know?-”

“-Hey.”

You wrapped the blanket around yourself and walked to his closet. Yeosang pulled on a loose silk shirt with sequined blue flames, fixing it around his shoulders as he continued.

“-Then there’s the guest list. Anybody who is anybody is coming,” he buttoned up the shiny shirt, then grabbed a black blazer. “You’re going to like my family. They’re a riot, with or without booze. Ooh, and the booze is going to be top notch!”

“I never said ‘yes’ and I don’t want to get married,” you said firmly.

He grabbed a gold chain from nearby, giving a snarky expression. “You say that like you got some kind of choice.”

“I’m not marrying you.”

“Yeah, you are. You’re a special girl, and I’m not letting you go so easy. Making you my wife guarantees nobody takes you from me,” he said. “Now, stop being difficult and get cleaned up. I want you downstairs in twenty, and that’s me being generous.”

You glared at him. For the briefest moment, you thought of grabbing one of his fancy gold statues and slamming it over his head. Why did every man you meet seek some way to own you? Why did they treat you as if you were their property? Not even the men back home acted in such a way. Anger shook in your fists, causing them to ball into the blanket wrapped around your middle. You glimpsed at the golden horse set on top of a dresser table.

“Honey pot, go get ready now.”

No, killing him won’t do any good. If Yeosang is dead, Lord Kim might decide not to come. “Would Lord Kim be coming?” you asked him.

“Of course! It’s considered an insult not to invite him! Besides, he's stopping by sometime soon anyways.”

“Today?”

“Maybe? The guy never says when he’s coming. He just shows up.”

Sounded like someone you knew. Hongjoong said he liked being the element of surprise. It made your nights together more magical, he said. Now, you'd never have those again.

Defeated, you walked away from the closet to a bathroom across the hall. The stink of alcohol and spunk clung to your skin and hair, and you could use a hot shower. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you couldn’t help taking a look at the mark on your back. It’d gone from thick, burning welts to thin lines in a matter of days. You reached to touch it, and realized how Yeosang might have missed it. Perhaps this is a blessing in disguise. If nobody could see it, then it’s not a problem. You turned on the shower in the corner, then stepped inside once the water turned hot.

Rinsing off, you stepped out and grabbed a fluffy towel. A small shadow caught your attention and you looked to the window, almost hoping to see Hongjoong perched there.

“Oh, hey bud,” you said, seeing the crow there instead. “Sorry, I don’t have any food right now. You picked the wrong place to meet me.” You started drying off, “I worried something happened to you after Mingi’s camp. I didn't see you at the lycan den. Then again, you probably stayed away so you didn’t become an appetizer,” you snorted a laugh. “Things have been kind of fast around here,” you finished quickly drying off and put the towel back around you, “Like, I just found out that demon guy is coming here. He's the one who can help me with this stupid curse; then I can go home.”

You sat on the couch by the window, head resting on the window sill. Tin City stretched for miles across the small seaside coast. You saw large rigs sailing in and out of the far off port, different colored flags signaling their cargo. Hongjoong had told you all about the goblin merchant business. Cutthroat and sleazy, he said to trust every goblin with a barrel of salt. You would admit their technological and engineering advances beat any other place you've been. They were driving cars and riding motorcycles along the metal streets. You saw large robotic guards patrolling the streets, clunking along stiffly and repeating the same phrase “Serve and Protect.” If Lord Kim lifted your curse, you wouldn't mind hanging around the city.

“This isn't such a terrible place,” you reasoned. “At least I'm not in chains. Maybe being a wife to a goblin prince won't be such a bad thing.” The crow squawked in protest and you giggled. “Okay, so there's no trees but I can make a nice hang out for you.” When he jumped around, flapping wings, you said, “I swear. I wouldn't leave my traveling buddy hanging.” You looked back out the window, “Maybe I should just play along until Lord Kim shows It can't hurt. Yeosang only seems partially terrible. He's honestly no different than Vernon. They both have big heads and big egos. All I have to do is play into it, and let the rest happen, right?”

“Who are you talking to in there?” Yeosang knocked on the door, a bit peeved.

“Nobody,” you called back. “See you around, bud.”

You left the bathroom to find Yeosang looking up at you with hands on his hips. He peered past you as if looking for a second person. When he didn't see anyone, he gave you a suspicious look before speaking.

“Sels got you a nice outfit to wear out,” he said. “I ain't gonna have my girl walking around looking trashy.”

“That was nice of her.”

“She's my assistant. She has to do it.” His eyes landed on your chest again, and he started playing with the side of your towel. “Let me have a little lookie before we go, hm?”

“Aren't we going to be late?” you said, taking a deep breath as he slipped a hand inside.

“Yeah, but so what? I'm the Merchant Prince. What are they gonna do?” He gently tugged the towel from your hands, and his jaw dropped when it fell. “Damn, and to think in a few days these babies will be all mine.” He yanked on your wrist to make you bend over him, and he gave one a soft lick.

“A-a few days?” you stammered. You'd definitely be way gone if that was true.

“Well yeah,” he said, gently cupping one. “Weddings ain't finished in a day, baby,” the stud of his tongue piercing rolled over your nipple. “If you want a nice bash, you gotta do it right.”

“But, I thought you'd want me as soon as possible.”

“Don't be so hasty, baby,” he insisted, “Your hubby isn't gonna stop fucking you. Let me prove it to you right now.”

He pulled you into the bedroom where you laid on the bed. The tightness and burning you'd learned to endure returned as he climbed up your body.

“My pretty baby,” he cooed, kissing your neck. “You're gonna be all mine soon.”

“Aren't I already yours, Hubby?”

This made Yeosang tremble in your arms. He groaned softly when you kissed him, tongue sliding into his mouth and hands in his hair. Hugging him was like hugging a large stuffed animal.

“You bought me, remember?” you asked in one of his large ears. “Two thousand gold, if I remember correctly.”

“Yeah,” he said, groping both your breasts as he grinded into you. “And this is worth every cent. Open up for me. I want to taste you again.”

“Should we? You've seen how horny I get.”

“We got the whole day, baby,” he said. “I want you now.” He moved down your body to your hips, pecking along your pelvis to your mound. “I've never had a girl who can go as long as you.”

“You just get me that hot,” you sighed. “You and those fun toys.”

His chuckle was muffled by the lips in his mouth. You whimpered, feeling the soft suckles he did to each side, followed by a long lick. The side of his tongue barely grazed your clit, which began to throb from the sensual touches. You knew you'd be thrown onto another uncontrollable whirl of desire if he kept going. The effort it took to suppress it became harder and harder to maintain. Yeosang’s pierced tongue worked its magic, swirling and flicking until you were shuddering in his arms.

“That’s it, baby,” he moaned, shaking his head with your clit in his mouth. “Lay back and enjoy my tongue for a bit. If you marry me, dollface, you get me whenever you want.”

“Yes…” you said through a restrained moan. “Yes, I'd love that.”

“Get the dildo out,” he said, “That big green one you couldn't get enough of last night.”

You didn't hesitate to reach into the nightstand. As long as Seonghwa had been, you felt excited simply holding it. Locking eyes with Yeosang, you gingerly slid the tip in your mouth. You sucked the smooth toy slowly, working it into your mouth inch by inch. He kept sucking, grinding into the mattress as his cock grew harder. Soon, you handed the wet toy to him, and he pushed the very tip inside. He brushed his thumb over your drenched clitoris while he continued sliding it. Once full of it, you knew you were a goner.

The toy finally did its best feature: it whirled and vibrated. Yeosang kept nestled inside with a strip of tape from a bed drawer, only driving you further insane. When he scooted up to your chest, cock springing out of his pants, you opened your mouth willingly. Not big or heavy, you had no trouble letting the little goblin thrust in and out of your mouth. He held onto the headboard, almost bouncing on your face. His low grunts matched your stifled moans. You hooked your arms around his small thighs, forcing him into your throat as you hummed around it. You'd done this last night and you'd both nearly came from it.

“I love this pretty mouth,” he groaned, pulling out to tap it over your lips and tongue.

“And it's yours.”

“And it's mine.”

It only took a few more pushes before you came. Body vibrating, muscles clenching from the pleasure, you rode it out to the end. Right then, Yeosang’s dick pulsed and went further into your mouth as his cum burst like a jelly candy. You eagerly swallowed the globs falling into your throat, groaning for more.

“Hubby,” you whined when he pulled away, “Let's go just one more time, please? You didn't fuck me.”

“We can do that later on. Put a lid on this for now, and get dressed.”

He fixed himself up, but you couldn't stop. Forcing yourself to stand, you found the outfit Sels got for you. Lavender tank top and skin tight leather skirt with a gold chain belt, you figured most of your outfits will consist of pieces like this. You didn't care. It only gave Yeosang more access to your holes. You found the slightest brush on it ignited the arousal you didn't get to douse out. The urge to quickly use one of his toys before going out, but you knew to delay him will agitate him. Vernon was the same way.

“You look smoking hot, babe,” Yeosang approved of your outfit. “Every guy is gonna be drooling over you.”

“You just gave them another reason to envy you, Boss,” said Sels.

“Ha, true.”

He led you to a small, red car parked outside the door. A goblin opened your side, and you climbed in. A bit cramped in leg room, you supposed it wasn't so bad.

You spent the entire day out with Yeosang, and your mark burned most of the time.

In the boutique, wearing a mermaid style dress made of sheer and lace fabric, you tempted him into a slow ride in the dressing room. The feeling of his cock rocking deep inside your cunt had you trembling in minutes.

At the florist shop, he fingered you subtly as he talked about flower arrangements with the shopkeeper. You struggled to stay still. His fingers worked your pussy way too well. You both decided on white and pink roses tied with strings of pearls and diamonds.

You gave him another blow job outside the bakery in the car. He held onto the door and back of the seats tightly as you firmly sucked him. Your hand and mouth both sliding over his dick, you shivering when he finished. “Your cum tastes better than any dumb cake,” you told him as you wiped your mouth. The cake was exactly how Yeosang wanted: a seven tier with a tiny green fountain at the base with every tier a different flavor.

He took you from behind at the catering office. You'd teased him the entire way there, showing off the breasts he liked so much and putting his hand on one. His cock might not reach fully to your g spot, but he made up for that with his fingers on your clit. You walked into the catering place with his cum smearing your thighs. A reasonable spread of exotic and local dishes was agreed upon, with each meal better than the last.

“You are something else, you know that?” He laughed when you returned to the mansion. “I love it though.”

He kissed you, and you returned it deeply. “I can't help it,” you said between kisses, “You make me all hot and bothered. I can't wait to have it all the time.”

“I won't get any work done with you around, will I?”

“Nope.”

You hoped to see an unfamiliar figure in the mansion when you came back. Lord Kim might have arrived while you were away. Unfortunately, there were no visitors waiting, only Sels with her daily profit reports. You decided to put on one of the swimsuits Yeosang bought you, and take a dip in the pool. If you're going to wait on him, you might as well do it in style.

****

It was a nightmare. Two days passed since you arrived in Tin City, and you felt yourself slipping. You'd wake up in places you didn't remember going, naked and aching for more. Whenever Yeosang and you slept together, you craved more and more. It became an itch that you couldn't scratch. The goblin ended up having to restrain you when he wasn't home. Everything and everyone looked good. From Sels in her tight blouses and small shorts to the horse statue you grinded on regularly, you found yourself caving. The need to escape no longer crossed your mind. You only wanted stimulation, any kind you could get.

“Yes, yes, yes! Fuck me, Topaz. Fuck me as hard as you can!”

You whined as you bent over a lounge chair by the pool. Behind you, huffing and puffing was one of Yeosang’s guards. You'd been playing with yourself when he passed by, and didn't pass up the chance at his boss's girl's pussy. The shame you might have felt did not matter. You no longer felt it. His cock pulsating within you drove you wild, and you started pushing back into him. After he finished, you took on another passing guard who didn't complain when you pulled his dick out for him.

“Boss is a lucky fella,” he cackled, holding your head with both hands as he thrusted, “I'd kill to have a horny bitch like you on my arm.”

It was never enough. When you finished going through three more guards, your body finally collapsed onto the chair. Sticky and sweaty, you laid there limply as the men walked away from you. You could go even longer than before. The hunger didn't stop after three or four times anymore. The curse's progression occasionally concerned you in those moments between flare ups, but not enough to urge an escape. On your back, you reached out for a fruit platter next to you though you had no desire for food. The strawberry burst in your mouth, but you didn't enjoy it. You thought about the salty taste still on your tongue. Disgusted with yourself, you still scooped what leaked out of you and put it to your lips.

By your fourth day in Tin City, the haze came. Forgetfulness was one of the main symptoms, and you felt it most after sex. Gasping for air after another round with Yeosang and two girls named Peggy and Twix, you forgot how you'd gotten there. The memory remained shrouded in a thick fog as Peggy poured drinks. You'd been in the private lounge, discussing something. What? The wedding maybe? That's all Yeosang talked about since the official announcement. You closed your eyes to try picturing the scene, but only made out vague details. Visions of you, Peggy and Twix working on an overstimulated Yeosang came in blurs. Hands caressing bodies, limbs becoming so entangled you couldn't tell who was who, and moans filling the bedroom came through.

“Here, sugar,” Peggy, purple-haired and green, handed you a small goblet. “It's Yeo’s finest stuff.”

You drained the glass, but felt sick by the force it took. The curse would take over, but honestly, who cared anymore?

Sels tried going over the guest seating with you the following day. She drew up a diorama of the Oil Trap's banquet hall with little circles and squares for the tables. You tried focusing on names and spaces, listening to her stories about the different relationships. But, you only thought about how she'd look with a dildo in her cunt. As she explained why Crizzo and Tizzy don't get along anymore, you slipped your hand onto her lap.

“Hey, little lady, don't you get any ideas,” she giggled playfully, pushing your hand away. “I ain't like the fellas around here. I won't just go down on you because you want me to.”

“Then tell me what I have to do to get in those panties, Sels.”

She gasped at your vulgarity, a pink tinge on her cheeks. “YN, Yeo won't like it.”

“So?”

“He's my boss. You're his fiance. It ain't right.”

She didn't get it. You longed to taste her lips, and feel her tightness around your fingers. You needed someone, anyone.

"YN…" she gazed over your glossy eyes, "Do you remember anything about this morning?"

You furrowed your brow, forcing yourself to conjure up some small detail. "I remember waking up next to Yeo and someone."

"Who?"

"I don't know. Does it matter? It feels good. Don't you want to feel good, Sels?" The burning started coming right as Yeosang appeared.

“Didn't I fuck you enough this morning, chicklet?” He asked in disbelief, huffing as he set down two table cloth samples.

“You did,” you said, turning to him. “But, Sels is pretty too. You should do us both….right now….on the table….please, Hubby?”

You started pulling at his shirt before he stopped you. “Come on now, we have work to do. This wedding ain't gonna plan itself.”

“Yeo-Yeo,” you pouted, giving him a soft kiss, “I'm-”

“-I know you are,” he cut you off. “We can do it later, if you're so damn horny, but for right now we have a seating chart to make.”

You resented the pair the rest of the time, only nodding when they addressed you. You thought Yeosang liked you being insatiable. He'd been happy about it when you met. All of a sudden you're “too horny”? What did that even mean? When they agreed on the seating arrangements, you got up from the table and went to your bedroom. There, you fiddled with the vibrator for hours, fucking yourself dumb and sensitive with the whirling, buzzing toy. Yeosang came in after the sixth orgasm, slightly aroused but overall upset at the mess on his sheets.

“We just changed these,” he grumbled. You didn't stop going despite your aching hands and wrists. When he pulled the toy away, you flexed them to stretch the taut muscles and bones. “You're something else, girl,” he said irritably. “Really something.”

The sixth day was even worse. You suddenly didn't know what you were doing. Your body only enjoyed the pleasure, your mind forced into submission by your desires. The boutique owner, altering your dress one more time, yelped in surprise when you took his cock in your hand and stroked him. You'd gone far enough to seduce the troll escorting you home. In the front seat of Yeosang’s car, you rode the sweaty, bulging grunt like a horse. The spaces in between were becoming shorter and fewer. The sex lasted longer. The pool floats weren't safe either, being grinded on in the middle of the pool. You couldn't stop it. It became all you thought about, all you needed.

“Babe, you should eat something,” Yeosang said that night, actually worried for you.

“I'd love to be eating you,” you crooned, reaching for his belt buckle.

“No, none of that. Eat.”

Sels had to feed you herself as ordered by Yeosang. The food tasted bland and dry, no matter the dish. You couldn't find the interest in eating anymore.

“You really think you should marry this girl, Yeo?” A friend asked him the night before the wedding.

Yeosang had tied you to a chair during dinner rehearsals. Eight days. This torture had been going on for eight days. You squirmed in place, finding friction and openly moaning. Drool fell from your lips when someone passed a banana split across the table. The whipped cream on the long banana gave you images of something better covered in cream. The brisket sandwiches, baskets of fries, mozzarella sticks, pasta bowls, barbecue chicken, creamy mashed potatoes, corn on the cob and other foods did not entice you in the slightest. The wine, spirits and beer being served were invisible to you. You only sought the delicious taste and feeling of something between your legs.

“We already paid for everything,” Yeosang said. his voice miles away even though he sat beside you. “I don't know what the hell is wrong with her.”

“I'd cut my losses and sell her off,” he replied.

“Lord Kim might be able to salvage the situation, sir,” Sels said. “He is a demon. He could help you.”

“Maybe…if the bastard would show up already…”

You started bouncing on air, wanting so badly to have something in you. The name did nothing for you now. You didn't care. Nothing mattered anymore. With Sels’s help, you managed back to your room where you nearly dragged her into bed with you. She only escaped because Yeosang pulled her away in time. This resorted to you humping a pillow, tongue out and waiting for Yeosang’s cock.

“What he fuck is going on with you, babe? I get being horny but…”

“Shut up and get those pants off, goblin boy.”

“Nah, I'm good.”

“Please!” you said, tears in your eyes. “I'm ready for you. You can just go inside.”

“No, I'm alright. Look, I got this stuff right here that'll help you sleep. You haven't slept in two days, babydoll, and we got a wedding tomorrow.”

You whined at the slight sting in your arm. For once, you finally felt peace.

***

“I don't have a choice, Sels. She's out of control. I can't keep drugging her. I mean, how's that gonna look? Prince Yeo can't get his bitch out of her heat, so she goes looking elsewhere. I already tell people I let her do it for now, but what about when we're married?”

“I said you should wait until Lord Kim arrives. He might have a solution. His bird came with-"

“-Nah, nah, I can't have her around him. She'll scare him off and then I lose the biggest deal we've gotten since my Pop was in charge. She's gonna have to go.”

“Where?”

“I got some friends from the canyon coming by for trade talks. I'll throw her in with the trade, and see if their Chieftain will take her.”

"But, boss, I got-"

"-Can't believe this whole thing has gone down the drain."

****

Standing up, you felt the salty sea breeze hitting your hot skin. It cooled down the constant flames burning through you for mere moments. Two guards had chained your wrists together again, and one led you down the stairs and out of the house. It took you several minutes to realize you had been taken out of the bedroom.

“Where are we going?” you asked one of them. “To the Oil Trap?”

“Nah, not the Oil Trap, sweetface,” the guard tugging your chains said. “Yeosang called off your wedding. You're a product now.”

“Huh?”

Neither of them elaborated. They dragged you to a cage hooked up to a wagon. Yeosang stood next to it, signing a clipboard and passing it to Sels. He gave you a quick glance, nodding his approval.

"Yeah, this will do," he said, sounding dejected. "I can't believe I'm out two grand. I paid two grand for a crazy snatch. I feel robbed."

"You want us to find the loser who sold her to you, boss?" One of the guards asked as he forced you into the cage.

"Yeah. Find those two and bring them to me. They're gonna pay for cheating me," he glared. He hopped into the cage with you, and your mark tingled. He sat on the opposite side of the small cage, examining you from afar. "We were supposed to get married today. What am I gonna tell everyone? They all came here dressed to the nines, hoping to get loaded, and now I gotta tell them my fiance ran out on me. Do you know how that's gonna make me look, doll? I got a rep around here. I can't have a crazy bitch ruining that for me."

Your limbs became cinder blocks that were a struggle to carry, and you found it hard to remain upright for more than a few minutes at a time. Being thrown into the cage was a blessing, since now you could rest. You tried remembering how they got you downstairs. You didn't remember being woken up or anyone calling your name. You simply woke up already standing, cuffed and shackled. Last night? You couldn't recall that either. Peggy and Twix. Was that last night or the night before? And Topaz? How long ago was it since that happened? The high of sex wore off from the drug Yeosang gave you, but now the rocking cage brought it back.

"Bright side, Kim ain't shown up yet, so he won't see you hanging around," he continued. "Two grand, plus the forty I spent on this wedding. You better be glad I got connections at the bank, otherwise you'd be making that money back another way."

The slight vibrations awoke the mark on your back once more. Moving your legs apart, you started rubbing in slow circles. The pliable folds became slick in minutes, and your sliding fingers over your clit drove you wild.

"The flowers, the DJ, the catering, the hall, the booze, the drugs, the photographer, cinematographer, the honeymoon boat, the limo, the guest favors, security...All wasted." He turned to you, "Maybe we can salvage the situation by having it anyways. Everyone loves a good party. I can just tell people it's a theme party. Everybody loves a-Are you kidding me? Even here?"

"I can't help it," you whined, spreading the lips to show him your swollen clit. "It feels good."

Yeosang gulped thickly, eyes falling to your hand. He licked his lips at the small bud being rubbed with a single finger. "Oh yeah?"

You nodded. "Come play with me," you slunk lower in the corner, "One more time?"

"Well, it does look good all wet like that...I suppose… " he began crawling towards you. "Give me a little taste, babe."

Nestled in front of you, Yeosang buried his face right to your pussy. Tongue lashing at your clit, you mewled at every swipe. You slipped a hand into his hair to keep him close, your body burning from the building tension. You imagined him doing this forever, taking you however he wanted and spilling his cum all over you. Visions of Yeosang using his hands, mouth, toys and cock brought you right to the edge. Your hands held onto the crossing bars of your cage to keep you grounded as he sucked the leaking juices. Right when you started to tremble, Yeosang pulled away.

"You're cumming on my dick this time," he groaned, pulling out his cock. "Keep rubbing that clit for me."

You did as he said while he shoved his cock into you. Pure bliss. It was better than any drink or drug he could give you. Even when your orgasm hit you, egged on by your rubbing and his pounding, Yeosang didn't stop. People the car passed noticed you both whenever you came to a light, and stopped to stare. You welcomed it. You held one of your legs up so a crowd saw him stretching you apart. When he pulled you onto him, his cock ramming up into you, they cheered before the car moved on.

“Hey, Yeo!" A goblin called at another light, "Where can I find her? She looks good."

"She can really ride," his friend pointed out. "I'll pay a hundred for the whole thing."

"Too bad I made the deal prematurely," he said. "Maybe you could have made back all that money for me. You would have liked it anyway. You could have been a little money maker."

"Keep me, " you whined, whirling your hips around, "And you can make plenty off me."

If it meant you got more cum, you didn't care.

"Sorry, dollface. I promised to throw you in as part of a deal. I can't go back on my word. Now, make your hubby cum one more time."

Several short thrusts later, Yeosang was tightly gripping your hips and harshly rutting into you. The spurts of cum filling you did not feel like enough. As he came down, you kept grinding to get him hard again.

“We're almost there,” he said, pushing you off him. “You can get fucked by your new master and his entire tribe if you want.”

“But I want you,” you pulled him close and reached for his groin before he could zip it back up.

“No means no, doll.”

“Come on, don't be like that. You know you want more, so give it to me.”

Yeosang sighed irritably, then withdrew a syringe from his pocket. In a quick pinch to your neck, you slowly felt yourself falling down a big hole. It swallowed you at once and the work turned dark.

****

“What's wrong with her, Kang?”

“What? What do you mean? There ain't nothing wrong with her.”

“Then why is she drugged and chained in a cage?”

“She ain't drugged. She's just sleeping, is all, and the chains and cage are for transport convenience.”

“This is how you would transport your bride?”

“Bride? This one? Pfft, no way. I'm not marrying her.”

“Then who are you marrying?”

“Um, uh, well….Sels! My assistant, Sels. She and I have been sweethearts for years, and I thought it was time to pop the question, you know? I found this one in the auction house, and she's been more trouble than she's worth. I thought a big Orc chief like yourself could straighten her out.”

“....Is this the one, Warchief?” a voice said in a hushed whisper above you.

“I believe so. She's exactly how he described, brand and all,” another voice replied. “You're making her part of our deal?’

“Yes! Think of it like the cherry on top of a nice chocolate cake!”

“Then it's settled, Kang. Don't make me regret this.”

“You won't, pal….Here, let me throw in these sedatives for free. She can get kind of rowdy, and these seem to work on her for a while.”

****

A/N: hey, a deal that might just turn out well for YN. Yes, the goblins are a total rip off of World of Warcraft goblins lmao I love their version of them and Yeosang as a scheming little horny goblin prince sounded hot. We're getting closer and closer to the end, hope y'all stick around for it <3

#ateez #ateez fanfiction #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #kang yeosang #yeosang x reader #yeosang x you #yeosang x yn #yeosang ateez #ateez yeosang #yeosang smut #kang yeosang ateez

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