#because it's too dangerous for her to stay
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musashi · 2 days ago
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posts about the alt-right pipeline being compassionate towards young men while radical leftists shun and shame them are not fucking saying "the men are becoming violent because feminists are too mean!" and if that is your takeaway you need to get off tumblr until you've better honed your critical thinking skills.
those posts are talking about how effective the language and approach you take in your activism can be. this is literally cult deprogramming 101. if someone is being taken in by a violent or dangerous group, that violent or dangerous group is usually offering them compassion and solace while working hard to convince them everyone else in the world is their enemy. you are under no obligation to coddle or act compassionate toward these men and their violent ideologies, but if you have the means to try, it is something that you can do to make a tangible difference.
radicalized people are often only one loving friend or family member or external voice away from being de-radicalized. of course that is not always the case, but it very often is. a lot of y'all rightfully understand that you do not carry the burden of being that voice, but a lot of y'all also have a lot of internalized ideas about morals and punitive justice and have simply written off these people as deserving of only the worst and not worth saving.
ten years ago, my grandmother was a fox news watching republican who voted red in every election and very well could have fallen down the qanon rabbit hole if not for me and her daughter challenging her compassionately, walking her through hypotheticals that validated her feelings & proving why they were false, & being patient with her despite our extreme division in political ideology. it was frustrating fucking work! but i decided i wanted to do it, because i could see the horizon and i could see me making a difference!
"misogynists have been saying feminists are too mean for years, get new material" that is not the fucking POINT. the point is that you, feminist, can be the compassionate voice that guides your brother, your father, your cousin, your grandfather away from fucking becoming or staying a nazi. you can show them compassion and companionship. you can be the woman they think of when their alt-right bros try to convince them that women are the enemy. and you can choose to crystallize that image of yourself so wholly in their mind's eye as worth protecting that they may very well choose to reject those harmful ideas.
it's not saying you HAVE to do it! it's saying you CAN do it! don't you 'firebomb a walmart' people all love taking change into your own hands? where the fuck is that energy right now, huh?
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ilovemitsuya · 2 days ago
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sylus x reader (fluffy,angsty?)
summary: “During a mission, I sustained serious injuries and was hospitalized. Though Sylus couldn’t visit me, he sent Mephisto in his place. When I was discharged, I wasn’t expecting him to be outside.”
“I’m not going to lie to you two.” Jenna said, folding her arms across her chest as she leaned back against her desk. “This mission isn’t like the others we’ve done. That facility is more unstable than we initially thought. The few teams we’ve sent to investigate before found nothing at all.”
Crossing my arms as I studied Captain Jenna’s face.
“So why send just the two of us, then?” I asked.
“Why not a full squad if it’s that dangerous?”
“Because we don’t know exactly what we’re dealing with. A bigger team could draw too much attention.“
“And if we find something… unexpected?” Tara asked.
“You report back immediately.” Jenna said, her tone firm. “Don’t try to take on anything alone if it’s beyond your capabilities. This isn’t about being heroes.”
There was a beat of silence before Jenna pushed off her desk and took a step closer to me and Tara. “But you’re not going in blind. We’ll have a team on standby if things get too hot. You need to trust your instincts and watch each other’s backs.”
Glancing at Tara, she gave me a reassuring nod.
Tara and I turned to leave, but Jenna’s voice stopped us just before we reached the door. “And remember.” she called out, “If things start to go sideways, you get out. Do you hear me?”
“Loud and clear.” I replied, glancing over my shoulder at her.
With that, Tara and I exited the office, both of us knowing that we were walking into something dangerous. But we had our orders.
———————————————————————
The facility loomed over us, the metal creaking with the weight of its own decay. Tara and I moved cautiously through the halls, weapons at the ready, our footsteps echoing against the cracked concrete.
Dust hung in the air like a fog, making each breath feel heavy. We’d been searching for signs of Wanderers for hours, but aside from a few ominous claw marks on the walls, there was nothing.
Tara walked a few paces ahead, her sharp eyes sweeping the darkened corners as she scanned for any signs of movement.
“This place gives me the creeps.”
“The readings are coming from this sector.” I confirmed. “It’s like there’s a cluster of energy sources in the storage area up ahead. Something’s definitely drawing them here.”
Tara nodded and pushed forward, keeping a steady pace as we approached the large metal door that led to the storage room. She placed a hand on the door’s surface, glancing back at me. “On three?” she whispered.
I tightened my grip on my gun and gave her a quick nod. “On three.”
“One… two… three!”
Tara shoved the door open, and we moved inside in a swift, coordinated motion. The room was just as the rest of the facility, old crates and equipment lay scattered across the floor, and the walls were covered in peeling paint.
I took a step forward, my eyes sweeping the room for any signs of movement. But then, there was a flicker of motion in the shadows, too quick to pinpoint at first.
I turned to Tara, but she had already seen it. Her eyes narrowed, and she raised her weapon in the direction of the disturbance.
“Stay sharp.” she said, voice tense. “I think we’ve got company.”
I reacted on instinct, surging forward to intercept it with a gunshot.
It swiped at me with one of its jagged claws, forcing me to block the strike with my forearm. Pain shot through my body as its claws tore through my sleeve and left deep gashes across my skin.
Before we could even do anything, the wanderer let out a loud roar and smashed its claws against the support beams around us. A low rumble vibrated through the building, and the ground beneath us trembled. Dust rained down from the ceiling, and a series of cracks split the concrete walls, spreading out in every direction.
“Get out of here, now!” Tara shouted, sprinting for the exit.
I turned to follow her, but the ground heaved under my feet, and a section of the ceiling gave way with a deafening crash. I stumbled and fell, barely managing to roll out of the way as a massive metal beam slammed down where I’d been standing. The room shuddered violently, and the walls seemed to cave inward.
“Tara!” I called out, but my voice was drowned out by the roar of collapsing debris. I saw her struggling to keep her footing near the exit, but then another tremor hit, and a cascade of rubble came crashing down, forcing us apart.
I fought to keep moving, dodging falling beams and lunging over shifting pieces of debris. But it was no use. The floor buckled beneath me, and I felt myself falling through the collapsing structure.
The impact knocked the wind from my lungs, and pain exploded through my side as I hit the ground hard. I tried to move, but my legs were pinned beneath a heavy chunk of concrete, and the darkness quickly closed in around me.
The last thing I saw before everything faded was the shattered remnants of the facility above, crumbling like a house of cards. Then, there was nothing.
———————————————————————
The steady beep of a heart monitor was the first thing I became aware of as I drifted back to consciousness.
The world came back in hazy fragments, a faint antiseptic smell, the dull ache radiating through my entire body, the blinding white light overhead. I blinked slowly, the ceiling tiles came into focus. I was in a hospital room, covered in bandages, and every muscle felt like it had been dragged through hell.
A groan escaped my lips as I tried to shift into a more comfortable position. The movement must have caught someone’s attention because I heard a chair scrape back and then footsteps rushing closer.
“Hey, hey, take it easy.” It was Tara’s voice, low and familiar, filled with a relief I hadn’t heard from her often. She came into view, her face creased with worry. Her eyes softened when she saw I was awake, and she let out a breath that sounded like she’d been holding it for a long time. “You’re finally awake. How are you feeling?”
I managed to lift my head just enough to give her a weary look. “Like I got hit by a train.” I rasped, my voice rough from disuse. “What happened to me?”
“You were inside when the building collapsed.” she explained, pulling a chair closer and sitting down beside me. “By the time we got a rescue team in there, you were unconscious and pinned under the debris.” Tara’s voice wavered slightly, and she quickly looked away, as if embarrassed to show how much the whole thing had shaken her.
“You’ve been out for a while.” Her tone was a little lighter now, a hint of humor breaking through. “Can’t believe you’d scare me like that. Do you know how annoying it was waiting around here?”
A faint chuckle escaped me, though it quickly turned into a wince.
“I should let the doctors know you’re awake. They’ll want to check you over.”
I gave a slow nod, already feeling exhaustion pulling at me again, but I didn’t want her to worry. “Go ahead.” I murmured. “I’m not going anywhere.”
As the door clicked shut behind her, the room fell silent again, and I found myself staring at the ceiling, fighting the familiar feeling of emptiness that came whenever I was alone. I closed my eyes and let out a slow breath.
I wished Sylus were here. There was no way he could just walk into a hospital like any normal person.
I was about to close my eyes again when I heard a soft tapping on the window. My eyes snapped open, and my heart skipped a beat as I turned toward the sound. There, perched on the narrow ledge just outside the window, was a black crow. Mephisto.
I struggled to sit up, limping a little as I reached out to unlock the window. It slid open with a creak, and Mephisto hopped inside, a small bundle of wildflowers clutched in his beak. They were ragged and windblown, a little wilted from the journey, but I could tell they’d been picked carefully.
I took the flowers gently from Mephisto’s beak, my hands trembling slightly. There was a small note tied around the stems with a piece of dark string. I untied it and read the familiar handwriting: “Since I can’t be there. Take care of yourself. – S.”
Sylus couldn’t come to see me himself, but he’d sent Mephisto instead. His way of saying he was there, still watching over me.
“Thank you.” I whispered
Mephisto tilted its head and gave a soft caw, as if acknowledging my words. Then, it took off out the window again.
I sank back against the pillows, holding the flowers close. It wasn’t the same as having Sylus here in person, but it was enough to know he was thinking of me.
———————————————————————
As I lay in the hospital bed, I reached for my phone on the side table and unlocked the screen. My fingers trembled slightly as I typed out a message to Sylus.
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I hit send and waited, my heart beating a little faster than it should. The minutes dragged on, and I started to wonder if he'd even seen my message. But then, my device buzzed with his reply.
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Typical Sylus.
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The response came almost instantly, as though he'd been expecting my question.
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I glanced back at the window, half expecting to see the crow still there. It made sense. Mephisto had always kept an eye on me, by Sylus’s command.
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I stared at the screen, my chest tightening as I read his words.
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There was a long pause before his next message arrived.
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It was the closest thing to comfort I would get from him, even if he couldn't be here with me.
———————————————————————
The final paperwork was a blur, the nurse’s instructions fading in and out as I focused on keeping steady. I was bandaged up and aching from head to toe, but at least I was getting out of the hospital. They’d wanted to keep me a few days longer, but I’d insisted on leaving.
As soon as they handed me my things, I slipped into my jacket and headed outside.
When I pushed through the front doors, a figure was leaning casually against the side of the building, half hidden in the shadow cast by the streetlamp. Sylus. He looked up when he saw me.
“Sylus…” I said, managing a small smile as I walked over, but his expression was tense as he straightened up, his eyes quickly scanning over my injuries.
“You’re stubborn for a hunter.” he muttered, his tone flat, though I could tell by the way his eyes lingered on my face and my bandaged arm that he was probably worried.
“The hell are you doing out here so soon? You could barely stand a few hours ago.”
“They were going to keep me trapped in there another week,” I said, trying to sound lighter than I felt. “I couldn’t just stay there doing nothing.”
He gave me a sharp look, he slipped his arm around my shoulders, guiding me firmly to his car parked a few feet away.
“You’re barely out, and here you are, thinking you’re ready to run around already.”
I tilted my head, raising an eyebrow.
"Since when do you drive anything other than that death trap of yours?"
"Since I figured you might not be up for riding around on a motorcycle after getting half crushed under a building."
He helped me into the passenger seat, taking extra care to ensure I was settled in before closing the door. He didn’t say anything as he walked around and got in himself, but the silence felt heavy, like he was holding back from saying a thousand things.
We drove through the streets in silence until we reached the edge of the city. I realized where we were going the moment we turned onto a narrow road.
“Your place?” I asked, glancing over at him.
He kept his gaze on the road. “You’re not going home alone in that condition. Not happening.”
I knew better than to argue, so I just nodded.
When we finally arrived, he was already at my side, opening the car door before I could even move. I tried to slide out on my own, but he offered his hand, steady and warm, and before I could argue, he was lifting me out of the seat.
I groaned, shaking my head. “Sylus, I can walk. You don’t need to—”
“Too late, sweetie.” he smirked, his arms sliding under my legs as he pulled me up, holding me effortlessly in a bridal carry. “Just sit back and let me do this.”
I sighed, trying to hide the warmth creeping up my face. “I’m tough, you know.”
“I know you are.” He glanced down, a glint of amusement in his eyes as he carried me toward the door. “But you’re hurt, and besides,” he added, leaning closer, his voice softening, “sometimes, you need someone to take care of you.”
Inside, he led me to his room and gestured for me to sit on the bed. “Wait here. And don’t try moving around.”
I managed a small, sarcastic smile. “What, you think I’m going to run off?”
His gaze darkened. “You have a habit of being reckless.”
Before I could respond, he was already disappearing into the other room, returning moments later with a small first aid kit and a glass of water. He knelt beside me, unwrapping some of the bandages on my arm with practiced precision.
“I already saw the doctors for this.” I said, watching him closely. He ignored me, dabbing disinfectant on a fresh cut and glancing up with a glint of warning in his eyes.
“Clearly, they didn’t do a good enough job if you’re in this condition.” he replied, his tone clipped.
I sighed, not bothering to respond. Instead, I watched his hands move, careful but efficient, his expression focused as he replaced the bandages. He was so quiet, so steady, so… unlike his usual self. His eyes kept flicking up to meet mine, only for a second, before going back to my injuries.
“You don’t have to do this, you know.” I murmured, not sure if I was talking to him or to myself.
He paused, his hands stilling for a moment, before he looked up, his expression unreadable. “And if I don’t, who will?”
I watched him as he worked, watching how he gently wrapped fresh gauze around my arm, tightening it carefully.
His fingers lingered over the bandage, as if making sure it wasn't too tight.
"Is this too tight?" he murmured, his gaze flicking up to meet mine.
"No... it's fine." I whispered, feeling my heart hammering in my chest. My words were barely a breath, and I wasn't sure if he heard me, but he continued anyway, his focus unbreakable.
"You can tell me if it hurts." he said softly, his gaze locking onto mine.
"It doesn't hurt." I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. But the truth was, all I can think about is how his fingers felt against my skin.
“You could have been killed.” he suddenly said, the faintest tremor in his voice. “And you didn’t think to tell me, or anyone, what you were dealing with out there?”
I looked down, feeling that familiar pang of guilt again.
“Tell me next time before you go off on one of these suicide missions.” he snapped, his jaw tight. “Or better yet, stay out of places where buildings collapse on you.”
“I don’t get to pick and choose which missions are dangerous.” I replied.
“And I’m supposed to sit back and just watch you throw yourself into the line of fire?” His voice was low, but I could hear the worry simmering beneath it.
He was silent for a moment, his expression hardening as he reached over to brush a strand of hair from my face.
“And next time, you’re telling me about this kind of mission. I don’t care if you think it’s nothing.”
My expression softened as I looked up at him
“I’m okay now.” I whispered.
He stared at me for a moment before he gave a reluctant nod.
“Try to rest here. I’ll get you some fresh clothes.” he said, guiding her down gently. “I’m guessing you don’t want to stay in those all night.”
I took the bundle of soft, comfortable clothes he offered.
“Thank you, Sylus.”
His lips quirked into a gentle smile, running his fingers lightly through my hair, guiding me to lie back against the bed.
“Enough fighting it, sweetie.” he murmured, his voice low and soothing. “You need to rest.”
I started to protest, but he pressed a finger gently to my lips, shaking his head. “No arguments,” he said softly. “Just close your eyes.”
He pulled a blanket over me, his hands lingering as he tucked it around my shoulders, and as my breathing slowed, I felt his fingers brush my cheek, tracing gentle patterns along my skin. The last thing I saw was him watching me, his expression filled with something I couldn’t quite place, a mix of worry, relief, and maybe… something else, something deeper.
“Sleep.” he whispered, his voice a barely audible murmur. “I’m not going anywhere.”
———————————————————————
The soft rise and fall of her breathing filled the room. Sylus sat beside her, one leg folded over the other, his arms crossed as he watched her sleep. In the dim light, she looked peaceful, a stark contrast to the worry that had been etched into her face earlier. He’d seen her like this before years ago.
He could still remember that night, when she’d slipped through his fingers.
He reached out almost instinctively, brushing his fingers against her cheek. She didn’t stir, but his touch softened, lingering there, feeling the warmth of her skin against his fingertips.
Unable to bear it, he slipped his arms around her, drawing her close, careful not to wake her. She was warm, her head resting against his chest, her body relaxed in his embrace. He pressed his cheek against her hair, letting himself take in her scent, the steady beat of her heart.
“You don’t get to do this to me again.” he whispered, his voice rough, barely audible even to himself. “Not this time. I won’t lose you. Not again.”
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if you made it this far thank you sm for reading! I appreciate you feel free to request ♡
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dream-with-a-fever · 3 days ago
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ginny weasley did not
defend harry against malfoy in flourish and blots when he was picking on him (it’s the first time she ever speaks in front of him)
carry around a horcrux for the better half of a year and realise that something was wrong and try to dispose of it at age 11
get possessed, manipulated and controlled by one of the darkest wizards of all time and live to tell the tale
get forced to write her own farewell note on the wall in blood and walk to her own death
go on as normally as possible afterwards despite the trauma of her first year, because she didn’t want to be a nuisance
make harry a get well soon card after he fell off his broom because of the dementors in third year
tell harry and ron off when making fun of neville for not being able to get a yule ball date
refuse harry as a yule ball date despite having harboured a crush on him for years because she didn’t want to hurt neville
see harry was floundering after hermione & ron left him to do prefect duties and immediately take charge and invite him to come with her
defend luna against bullies, and encourage neville to believe in himself and know his self worth
decide to quit pining for harry because it was a waste of time, instead dating other boys and becoming a solid friend to him
join dumbledore’s army without a second thought, coining the name and even encouraging more ravenclaws to join
call harry out when he was in a downward spiral about being possessed, explained her own experience and remained gracious despite him forgetting her biggest trauma
fill in for harry as seeker in the quidditch team and help them win the quidditch cup that year
reassure harry that he will play quidditch again, when he was feeling low about umbridge’s life long ban
encourage harry to talk to cho if that’s what he’s upset about (putting her own complicated feelings for him aside)
get harry to admit what was actually upsetting him and helping him find a solution
immediately agree to help harry by standing guard outside umbridge’s office despite not knowing any details
call harry out whenever he was being snarky / impatient with her and not take any of his shit
disarm malfoy & the others and escape from umbridge’s office to rush to harry and hermione’s aid
refuse to stay behind at hogwarts stating that she cared for sirius too and wanted to help
go with the others to the DoM in an attempt to save sirius, risking her life and breaking her ankle in the process
refuse to tolerate her brother’s new girlfriend who was being snobbish about her family’s home and lifestyle (but then go on to love and respect her, as they mature)
get invited to join the slug club because of her skill with hexes and not nepotism (the only one who wasn’t invited for that reason)
tell off zabini for laughing at harry about what went down at the DoM
call ron the fuck out when he was borderline slut-shaming her
crash into the commentator’s podium to shut zacharias smith up from talking smack about the gryffindor team
immediately try to intervene when she thought harry was in danger of being possessed by the hbp potions book
tell off dean and seamus for laughing when harry got seriously hurt in quidditch
come to harry’s defence after he attacked malfoy (bc he had to defend himself against an unforgivable curse) and stand up to (one of her) closest friend(s) to do so
step up to play seeker in harry’s place (again) in the quidditch final and winning the cup in his absence (!!!!)
make harry feel “the happiest he had ever been” when they finally got together
make my boy LAUGH 24/7 and bring him (and many others) so much JOY
support harry after dumbledore’s death, knowing when to give him comfort and also space
show unwavering love and loyalty to harry when he was trying to break up with her, claiming she didn’t care about the danger
also ultimately not fight his decision, understanding his need to stop voldemort once and for all, despite her being completely heartbroken
respect harry’s wishes to stay broken up, but still give him the most INSANE kiss ever as a birthday present (and something for him to fight for!!)
return to hogwarts under the rule of deatheaters, despite the target on her back as a blood traitor (also as brother of ron AND ex girlfriend of harry)
take the place of younger students and try to protect them from being tortured by the carrows
start up dumbledore’s army again with neville and rebel against the system, to reek as much havoc as possible at hogwarts
try to steal the sword of gryffindor from snape’s office because they wanted to help the cause as much as possible despite understanding why they needed it and ultimately being punished for it
refuse to stay put in the room of requirement when her family were out risking their lives during the battle and given the chance, immediately joined the fray
comfort an injured younger student at the battle, and stay strong for them, despite having just found out her brother had been killed
duel with bellatrix in the battle and almost lose her life doing it
go through so much and have her trauma be overlooked and forgotten by so many
go on to play QUIDDITCH PROFESSIONALLY in the team she DREAMED of playing for
and then going back to a career in writing (sports correspondent) despite her traumatic experience with the diary
marry the love of her life and have three beautiful children and get the happy ending that she deserves after EVERYTHING????
all for you guys to shit on her the way you do. put some goddamn RESPECT on MISS GINEVRA MOLLY WEASLEY’S name. she’s NOT a mary sue, she’s NOT a bully, and she’s NOT boring. she’s an ICON.
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smoozie · 2 days ago
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Did not just watch a full episode of Wild Life in which both of Grian's teammates desperately try to get kills and both end up on red despite (and often because of) their effort, for you guys to keep saying Scar and Jimmy are getting eliminated next episode.
Jimmy has five fucking kills man. He's doing GREAT!! I know that people are attached to the canary curse, and this is Wild Life so I understand anything can happen, but come on. I will admit I don't have high hopes for Jimmy, but I really think people are selling him short this season.
Yeah Scar failed like eight traps this session, but he's still doing well. Ya know why? Because he's good at taking advantage of a situation. That man has six kills on Etho alone for a reason. Do none of you remember last season when Gem attacked Scar early on during the boogeyman apocalypse because she thought he would be an easy kill, and she had to RETREAT because he did too much damage on her?!?
The worst part is that no one is even claiming Jimmy and Scar are in danger for reasonable things, like the fact that Grian (who has the HIGHEST kill count in the series) has just declared them his number one enemies. Everyone is acting like they're both just going to throw themselves off cliffs three times next episode. Like yeah they can both be reckless players but they aren't stupid. They know to stay safe on red. Scar especially performs well on red. (He is a LOT like Joel)
Speaking of which! The Bamboozlers have happily made an alliance with the Family. Two of the strongest pvp players on the server. "But Jimmy killed Joel" yeah and Joel congratulated him because he thought it was a good kill. Scar and Lizzie have had alliances with the Family for a while, now that Jimmy's green there's no bad blood between them. And while I don't think Gem or Joel are gonna die saving any Bamboozlers (well, Joel might for Lizzie), having them on their side may slightly deter Grian's posse considering their desperate attempts on the Family's lives this episode.
POINT BEING: The Bamboozlers are ALL in a really good place at the end of this episode. Their whole team is green, they've secured an alliance with the Family, and they're all competent players. Y'all should be really worried about Mumbo right now. I'm worried about Mumbo.
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ja3yun · 2 hours ago
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Devil's Corner || S.JY
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racer!jaeyun x rival's sister!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f.rec), food play - lollipops, exhibitionism (kinda), terribly described racing scenes, mentions of past trauma, anything else lmk! wc: 18k synopsis: jaeyun goes by a lot of names - leader of the lucifers, your brother's biggest rival, the number one racer in the south&west, and your non-boyfriend. on his birthday, you go to the grit track to wish him luck, not knowing your relationship is going to change forever. a/n: hi! i am not officially back, i'm still taking a break but it would be so wrong of me to miss the loml's birthday (although i'm early) <33 this isn't exactly how i wanted this to turn out so i'm sorry if it's shit 😮‍💨 anyway, i'll be back soon hopefully bc it's almost my one year anniversary. comments/feedback/reblogs are all appreciated and i love you all so much! happy jake day when it comes <3
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“You know I can’t be here, Ireh,” you say, casting a wary glance around. “If Yeonjun sees me, he’ll lose his mind.”
“Will you just relax for like half a minute, please?” Ireh sighs, her voice tinged with lighthearted frustration as she tugs you closer to the grit track, the sound of revving engines growing closer. “He’s probably busy preparing for the race. You know how seriously he takes this.”
You dig your heels into the ground, stopping both of you in your tracks. “Girl, please be serious. We’re practically on the track! He could spot me in a heartbeat.”
Avoiding your older brother isn’t really in your nature; you’ve always been inseparable. You and Yeonjun are like two cubes of ice that no matter how much you whack them, they stay glued together. He always protects you, teaches you the ropes on how to navigate life even though there is only 3 years between you, and you would probably class him as one of your best friends. 
Yet, he never wants you to come to his races.
Yeonjun is one of, if not the best illegal drag racer in the city. He’s built respect around his and his crews name - Thursday’s Children - TC for short. Initially, he loved bringing you along to the races, but that quickly changed the moment you caught the attention of the one rival he despises.
Ireh turns to you, exasperation etched across her features as she crosses her arms. “So, do you want to see your boyfriend or not?”
“He is not my boyfriend, Ireh,” you retort, huffing the words out for what feels like the millionth time. But she isn’t wrong - you are here to see the boy, and though typically you wouldn’t risk coming to the tracks and getting caught by Yeonjun, there’s a reason for the risk tonight.
“Oh? So what do you call a guy you’re so hopelessly in love with that you’re willing to betray your brother and sneak behind his back?” she counters with a teasing lilt in her voice. “Because you wouldn’t do that for a casual hookup.”
That’s also the kicker of this whole thing; since that day when you bumped into Yeonjun’s rival and the ban was put in place so that you never have to come into contact with him…you’ve actually been seeing him almost every day for the past seven months. Your boyfriend who isn’t your boyfriend? That’s Sim Jaeyun - the leader of The Lucifers, and your brother's arch nemesis.
It makes you recoil every time you think about betraying your brother, especially when someone slaps you over the face with it so blatantly the way your best friend does. It’s worse because as much as you downplay the relationship, you can’t deny that there is something so real between you both. As soon as you met him, you were instantly drawn to him - like a moth to a very dangerous and reckless flame.
To be honest, you vowed to stay away from any and all racers. Each of them is arrogant and too prideful, your brother included, but the more you spoke with Jaeyun, got to know him and all his quirks, you realised quickly that he’s the exception. 
Jaeyun is ripped straight from the pages of a romance book. At first glance, with his sharp smirk and the swagger that comes with being one of the city’s top drag racers, he gives off that classic fuckboy vibe - a bit reckless, untouchable, with that unbothered arrogance he uses to get under other crew’s skin. To a lot of people, he’s just the arrogant leader of The Lucifers, quick to brush off his competition like they’re nothing. 
But that’s only half of who he is.
When it’s just the two of you, you get to see a side of Jaeyun that he guards closely - trusting you with something he doesn’t share with the world. He’s patient and tender, his words soft and careful, and it’s almost startling how different he can be. He’s not performing or putting up walls; he’s just there with you, completely and wholly, in a way that’s so real it takes your heart a minute to stop making more space for him. If you were to say this to anyone else that knew him, or of him, they would laugh in your face - and Jaeyun would deny it in a heartbeat.
It wouldn’t be fair to say he hides his ‘real’ self from others because being the racer everyone perceives is also part of him. The intensity he brings to the track is genuine - it’s a part of his soul, he’s clearly passionate about it, loving the thrill and heat that comes from burning some rubber and shouting a big fuck you to his opponent. But with you, Jaeyun allows himself to be something more. He only shows the loverboy side of him in your company, being with you gives him a moment to embrace a side of himself that he sometimes forgets about.
Of course, he’s still cocky and boastful - he’s allowed to be; he’s really fucking good - it’s the main reason why he and Yeonjun are rivals in the first place. While TC rules the North and East of the city, The Lucifers hold ownership of the South and West, but both of them want to be on top - the best in the city, not just their turfs.
In Yeonjun’s eyes, the only one who could be deemed better than him is Jaeyun, and that’s a bitter pill to swallow. So he won’t swallow it, he’ll use it as motivation instead, to beat Jaeyun in ever way possible.
Shifting your focus back to Ireh and ridding your mind of the thoughts of the leaders, you shake your head and let out the fakest laugh you think you’ve ever heard spit from your mouth. “In love with him? I am not in love with him. We’re just, seeing one another, casual, y’know?”
Ireh holds that knowing stare on you as you stand there, your mind battling with itself like it usually does in moments like these, justification and excuses bubbling up. “Listen, you can keep him as your ‘not boyfriend’ all you want,” she adds with a smirk, “but you know that label isn’t hiding your feelings. It’s written all over your face -  even now.”
You’re an open book, what your mouth doesn’t say, your face certainly will and you’re more than sure it’s telling the story of your heart that you refuse to admit. For both your sake and Jaeyun’s.
“Whatever, let’s just go find him.” Rolling your eyes, you take her arm and lead her further into the pit of people.
It’s heaving with racers, pit lizards, and those just looking to have a good time and smell the fumes. The floodlights guide you to the edge of the track while you thread your and Ireh's way through the crowd, moving closer to the edge, where you get a clear view of the grit track. Out of all the places Yeonjun and Jaeyun race, this track has a special place in your heart. There’s nothing too fancy about it, but it does have one element that outdoes all the rest; Devil’s Corner.
Devil’s Corner is infamous, a steep turn that has racers pushing their cars to the limit. They either conquer the bend or be conquered by it. It’s a sharp, merciless curve that rises slightly before plunging down at a nearly impossible angle, leading straight into a narrow stretch and to the finish line. So many have tried to beat it or show off on it - you’ve seen more than one car flip or crumpling like a smooshed tin can. 
Luckily, both your brother and Jaeyun know exactly how to handle it, masters of their art being proven each time. You never have to worry about them too much when it comes to this track, they’re usually way ahead of whatever chump tries to race them, but a little flutter of anxiety will always be there.
You squint against the harsh glare of headlights, raising a hand to shield your eyes as you scan the crowd. Among the bustle, you spot Heeseung and Jongseong leaning casually against a car with the devil printed crudely onto it, looking entirely at ease in the chaotic scene. They’re two of Jaeyun’s closest friends and crewmates, so wherever they are, he’s usually not far behind.
Heeseung is the first to notice you, nudging Jongseong with a mischievous glint in his eye as he shoots you a welcoming look. The two of them are more than just members of The Lucifers - they’re practically family to Jaeyun, and in turn that makes them your number one hype men and the only others to know about your secret fling.
Squeezing her arm, you guide Ireh across the track and into red territory, smiling brightly and suddenly forgetting about the possibility of Yeonjun spotting you. 
“Hi, boys!” you greet them warmly, letting go of your friend to hug them tightly. “How are you feeling?” Both of them have races tonight, though you could never tell with how nonchalant they both look. Going against TC always has higher stakes, but they don’t seem fussed.
Jongseong pats your head and smirks. “We’re chill, it’s only Gyu and Soobin, hardly competition.”
“We are shocked to see you though, doesn’t little Junnie usually keep you in a cage when it comes to TC Lucifer races?” Heeseung nips in.
“Well, I had to come and-”
“Support the number one racer on his birthday,” a fading Australian accent interrupts your sentence, his hands gripping your hips and instinctively pulling you back into him, your ass pressing against one of your favourite parts of him. 
Jaeyun’s touch is intoxicating, a magnetic pull that has you leaning back into him without a second thought, any anxiety about Yeonjun’s lurking eyes now vanished. His hands drift up and down your waist, lingering over the curves he knows so well, savouring the feel of the skintight dress you’ve slipped into just for him. You can feel his gaze, possessive, admiring, and utterly absorbed into you as his fingers press against the sheer fabric at your sides, the warmth of his skin teasing yours through the thin material. He loves it when you dress up for him because he knows it’s only for him, not one of these other fuckers at the grit track gets to touch you the way he does, gets to see you the way he does. 
Instinctively, he dips his head, his lips grazing your shoulder, trailing upwards in a slow, lazy path that sends a pulse straight to your core. His mouth follows the line of your neck, leaving a trail of heat that makes you feel like the two of you are alone in the world, past all of the noise and chaos around you. When he reaches your ear, he nibbles down and whispers, “Hi, Princess.” It’s a greeting as much as a claim, you’re his princess.
You’re aware, somewhere in the back of your mind, that this is probably the most reckless thing you could do. Yeonjun could be here any second, his protective instincts would be kicking in if he caught even a speckle of Jaeyun’s hands on you. And yet, the thrill of it only makes you want to sink deeper into Jaeyun’s touch. He holds you firmly, his grip the only thing holding you up right now.
However, you need to let go, scared of the repercussions. It’s bad enough you’re even on this side of the track, let alone in the arms of The Lucifer’s leader. So you spin around, gathering your bones and standing upright, although they almost turn to jelly again as soon as you see him.
His hair is bouncy, parted down the middle with two strands falling effortlessly on his face, pointing straight to that perfect nose that you’ve had the pleasure of riding one or ten times. His lips are curled up in a small smile, so subtle only you can see before it turns into a full-blown smirk, his kissable lips so inviting as he bites into his bottom one. You love his mouth, everything about it; how it looks, the way it tastes, it’s magical skills when it’s in between your legs, all of it.
“Happy birthday,” you murmur, smiling so fondly at him that you know Ireh is going to have something to say about it later.
“Thanks. What did my girl get me?” he asks, leaning forward and ghosting his lips over yours, his bottom lip begging to be bitten and sucked on. Every time he calls you his girl, you swear you almost get down on your knees and begin to worship him. 
Maybe you’re starting to see what Ireh and his friends mean about your non-existent label and what it should be.
You resist the urge to just devour him in a kiss as you speak. “I can’t show you it right now, not here,” you tease, poking your tongue out to wet your lips.
“Yeah? What if I ditch this race and we go somewhere that you can show me?” His voice is low and inviting, every word dripping with promise. Jaeyun leans down, his lips hovering just inches from yours, his eyes gleaming playfully. His hands roam up your back, his fingers pressing just hard enough to make you shudder, his nails grazing your skin ever so slightly - a subtle incentive to consider his tempting suggestion.
Before you can even nod, though, Jongseong clears his throat pointedly, a slight smirk tugging at his mouth. “Actually, mate, you really can’t skip this one,” he says in a language you can’t understand, his tone heavy with meaning meant solely for Jaeyun.
Jaeyun’s grip loosens slightly as he pulls back, and you seize the moment to break from his hypnotic gaze, turning to face Jongseong with a raised eyebrow. “What’s so special about this race?” you ask, voice laced with curiosity. “What’s at stake this time, a car?”
High-stakes wagers are nothing new. Racers love to have some form of motivation and it’s not unusual for bets to involve money, cars, or something like territorial rights over parts of the city. And while you don’t know exactly what’s in play, the tension between Jongseong and Jaeyun suggests this isn’t just any race.
“Not a car,” Jaeyun begins removing his hands from your waist, and just in time too, because over the racer's shoulder, you see someone walking over with raw fury and intensity over their features.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Y/N?” Yeonjun spits as he approaches, his aura red. The last time you saw him this angry was when you accidentally mistook his MSCHF boots as funky vases and put the tulips that Jaeyun had got you inside them. Of course, he didn’t know they were from his rival, but you did just ruin his £300 shoes. 
Truthfully, they looked better as a vase.
Jaeyun’s hand still rests on your waist, firm and possessive, but you reluctantly take a step back, putting as much space as possible between you. You will yourself to look unfazed and relaxed, praying Yeonjun hadn’t seen Jaeyun practically dry-humping you just moments before.
Thinking on her feet, Ireh steps in, tossing a casual arm over Jongseong’s shoulder with a bright smile. “Actually, it’s my fault, Yeonjun,” she chirps, doing her best to sound apologetic yet unbothered. “I wanted to see Jongseong race, and I dragged Y/N along for moral support.” Her voice drops, filled with mock affection. “We’re dating.”
Everyone looks confused except Ireh, who is putting all those years bluffing to her parents about her whereabouts in the middle of the night to the ultimate test. They are easily fooled, but Yeonjun is not.
Glancing down at his ‘girlfriend’, Jongseong wears a look of uncertainty but also…happiness? You always suspected his crush on your best friend, this just confirms it. Like breathing, he slips into the role, slipping his arm around her waist and kissing her temple lovingly - he’s clearly taking this as an opportunity to be close to her.
Yeonjun’s lip curls as he looks Jongseong up and down with a mixture of disgust and disbelief. “Slim pickings around here, I guess. I didn’t think you’d settle for a shit stain on the sidewalk.”
Jongseong’s easygoing expression hardens as he holds Ireh close, offended and possessive. “Watch your fucking mouth,” he growls, his tone a warning.
Amidst the brewing tension, Jaeyun’s hand sneaks to find home on your ass, his grip firm and reassuring. He’s careful though, keeping his touch just out of Yeonjun’s line of sight, but you can tell he also doesn’t care, not really. He would fight your brother in an instant if it wasn’t for you asking him to keep it in check. No one ever tells Jaeyun what to do - not the authorities, not family, no one - but he’ll make the exception for you.
“Get off our side, Yeonjun,” Jaeyun finally interjects and pausing the bickering, his voice low and steady, clearly unbothered by the confrontation brewing. He removes his hand from you and he regrets it almost the moment it happens, wishing he could glue himself to you and always feel your warmth.
“Not until I get my sister back,” Yeonjun retorts, the words hang thickly in the air as the rest of The Lucifers gather around. 
Even the mere suggestion of you being taken away stirs something in Jaeyun, a slight tightening of his jaw, a flicker of protectiveness in his eyes. Now that he has you by his side, on his side both physically and literally, he doesn’t like you too far away.
But Jaeyun’s lips twitch into a mocking smile as he crosses his arms and hides his true feelings, eyes never leaving Yeonjun’s. “Take her back then,” he scoffs, tilting his head with an air of nonchalance that only stokes the fire. He turns to you, smirking and hiding that beautiful boy you know behind the arrogance of himself. “If that’s what she wants.”
The ball is in your court and you hate when people do this to you - making you choose - and this is the worst choice of all. Jaeyun is giving you the opening to stand up for yourself, something he’s been slowly but surely trying to help you do throughout the seven months of seeing him, but it’s so much harder than he realises. 
Betraying Yeonjun feels like tearing a piece of your soul away. The thought of hurting him, of driving a wedge between you twists in your gut. It’s not easy to reconcile the love you have for your brother with the undeniable connection you share with Jaeyun.
As the silence stretches, you take a deep breath, your heart racing. You glance at Jaeyun with sorrowful eyes, knowing you’re disappointing him with what you’re about to do. You take a step forward and stand by Yeonjun, looking down shamefully. You don’t dare look at the hurt in Jaeyun’s eyes.
And it’s there, only for you to see. He had truly hoped that this would say a big ‘fuck you’ and rid yourself of the shackles of Yeonjun’s overbearing brotherly role and claim the independence he’s been encouraging you to reach for. 
In all honesty, he has been respecting your wishes and he’s content with that, but he hates to see you battling with it so damagingly. Your anxiety gets the better of you sometimes, your brain whispering insults and what ifs while Jaeyun’s lips are on yours,l. It’s gotren so bad in fact that half of your secret meetups have consisted of you sitting in his lap while he strokes your back, whispering petal soft reassurances to calm you down from turmoil. 
Not exactly a five star date.
In some way, he wonders if the weight of it all is pressing harder now because you’re both crossing into a deeper territory of emotions that you can’t step back from.
“Ireh, don’t you dare bring Y/N back here again,” he warns your best friend, stepping in front of you, his way of protecting you but really he’s just locking you in the cage that he built. You can feel the heat of anger surrounding him and you feel ashamed. Not only are you in trouble but now your best friend is getting the blame for it. All because you can’t tell Yeonjun the truth.
Jaeyun pokes his tongue in his cheek and laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. He doesn’t say anything, but that’s enough to make Yeonjun tense once again, narrowing his eyes.
“You want to say something else?” your brother grits out, hoping that Jaeyun will bite his bait. 
Yet, Jaeyun simply raises his hands in a gesture of mock surrender, a playful smile on his face. “Nah, mate. I’ll save all my talking for out on the track, yeah?” The tone of his words is light but there’s an underlying tension simmering as he stops himself from saying what he really thinks. 
What he really wants to say is how fucking ridiculous it is to watch Yeonjun try to control not just your life but also those who have no obligation to bow to him. It’s clearly a trait of his - one he can’t get on board with.
However, the phrase ‘save all my talking for out on the track’ strikes you as oddly significant. You then suddenly remember Jongseong’s earlier cryptic warnings to Jaeyun about how he should stick around for the race and it all clicks into place. 
Your eyes widen as you search Jaeyun’s expression for confirmation, but he remains locked onto Yeonjun’s fierce glare, the two of them engaged in a silent battle of wills.
Pulling at Yeonjun’s wrist, you draw his attention back to you, though his gaze never wavers from Jaeyun. “You’re racing each other tonight? Why?” you ask, concern creeping into your voice.
Of course, it’s not uncommon for leaders of rival crews to face off in races; it happens all the time. But the stakes feel particularly high tonight, and a knot of worry forms in your stomach. They haven’t battled it out since that night you met Jaeyun and that almost ended with Yeonjun crashing and Jaeyun turning upside down. 
They have no limits when it comes to racing one another, and at the grit track, that can only mean bad things.
“Because Jaeyun here decided he wants this track to himself,” Yeonjun explains half-heartedly. 
The grit track is TC territory, placed technically within the east side of the city, but its location on the very edge of the west makes it up for grabs - if they can win it. For years, The Lucifers have wanted this spot, the leaders well before Jaeyun took charge could never do it. TC leaders make sure this is the one track they’re masters at, no one is ever able to beat them on it.
Jaeyun’s smirk widens, and he steps closer, closing the space between them. “The track belongs to whoever can handle it, not whoever sticks their name on it and hopes everyone just plays nice.”
“I’ve been handling it, in case you couldn’t see that,” he chides back, not appreciating the jab. “Your old leader Mingi couldn’t handle it against me, that’s the reason you became leader, right?”
Yeonjun’s smirk is cold, knowing that mentioning the former leader will get the reaction he wants from Jaeyun - and it does. Jaeyun’s easy smirk falters for a split second, his eyes darkening with a flash of barely concealed rage. Mentioning Mingi was a low blow, they both know it. 
Mingi is Jaeyun’s best friend and the night he tried to stake claim on TC turf, he ended up crashing the car, paralysing his body from the waist down. In truth, it’s the only reason Jaeyun is standing in the position he is right now, and he hates that fact.
He always admired Mingi as a leader.
Jaeyun’s voice drops, dangerously calm. “Say his name again,” he warns as the muscles in his jaw tighten. “But make sure you remember that if he hadn’t crashed because of your pathetic excuse of a trick, he would have this track, easy.”
Yeonjun’s smug grin only widens, feeding off the frustration simmering in his rival. “Is that right? Funny, because as far as I remember, it wasn’t foul play, he just couldn’t handle Devil’s Corner, and we all know what happened after that. Or maybe you’d like a reminder?”
The tension is suffocating, an invisible line drawn in the dirt between them, and everyone around senses that one wrong word could send it spiralling out of control. Jaeyun takes a step closer, closing the gap so that they’re nearly nose-to-nose. “You better watch your fucking mouth, you know what you did.”
You don’t know much about that night, neither of the men in your life wishing to utter a word about it, but all you’ve gathered from the rumours is that there are two sides to believe; one in which Mingi was simply reckless on the corner, a freak accident due to his negligence, the other? Yeonjun and his crew planted a spike trail on the road that caused him to flip over and roll down the hill. 
The rumours were never settled because the car took such a tumble that it eventually got engulfed in flames, the tyres melting and any evidence gone. It’s one of the biggest mysteries amongst the crews and only TC will truly know the truth, not that they would ever admit it.
Do you think your brother could do such a thing? Not in a million years, but you also know his competitive streak can cloud his judgment. Either way, you’re nervous about his and Jaeyun’s safety tonight.
Yeonjun’s expression hardens, dropping all pretences of mockery. “Prove it. I did fuck all, your pathetic excuse for a leader was just a shit driver that couldn’t handle the heat.”
The words are enough to push Jaeyun to the edge. His fists clench at his sides, but before he can lurch forward and connect his knuckles with your brother’s face, Heeseung pulls him back with a firm grip on his shoulder, speaking low and steady. “It’s not worth it, Jae. He wants you to lose it.”
“And I fucking will, the prick deserves it,” you hear him argue with his friend. It’s moments like these you wish you could just walk over to him and settle his nerves. Not in the Joey King in Kissing Booth way with the cliche ‘look at me, look at me’ vibes, but let him know that you’re there for him, that this urge to win and prove something might end up even more disastrous than Mingi’s fate.
While Heeseung and Jongseong tend to Jaeyun’s flaring temper, Yeonjun shifts his focus to you, his rebellious sister. “Seriously, Y/N, I told you to stay the fuck away from these races,” he has venom in his voice but that’s still lingering from the spout with Jaeyun. Towards you, there is affection and concern, his usual feelings towards you.
“I just…Ireh wanted me to come,” you lie, using the dark night and shadows from the floodlights to mask your growing nose. 
“Okay, fine. You still should have said no,” he rebuts, suddenly giving you a quick glance over, “And why are you dressed like that? You never dress like a track hopper.” 
It’s a little insulting, considering what you wear is none of his business, and that you actually do feel good in it.
You square your shoulders, meeting Yeonjun’s scrutinising gaze. “I wanted to dress up for once, alright? Is that such a crime?” you snap, your voice sharper than you initially intended. But something about his tone, so quick to judge, grates on you.
Yeonjun’s eyes soften just a fraction, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, Y/N,” he begins, his tone shifting to something gentler. “I don’t mean to give you a hard time. I just don’t want you getting dragged into this, especially tonight.” His eyes flick to the track, the pits where engines roar to life, and the crowd of people buzzing with dangerous energy as they wait for the next race. “You’re above all of this.”
A small pang of guilt tugs at you, but you hold your ground. “I’m not here to cause trouble, Yeonjun. Let me just stay to support you,” you lie again, stomach twisting as the truth sits, heavy and hidden.
Yeonjun narrows his eyes, not fully convinced but willing to let it go - for now. “Alright, but stay out of the pit. And if anything happens, you leave, got it?”
“Got it. I’ll keep my distance.”
Satisfied, he gives a brief nod, but as he turns back towards his car, guiding you over to the right side of the track, where you belong. You look back as you watch Jaeyun eye you up, saddened at your sudden removal, but expecting it nonetheless.
You guess you’ll just need to see him once this is all over, and both of them finish this race safely.
You hope.
_____
The sound of engines revving fills the night air as you stand on the edge of the track, patiently awaiting Jaeyun and Yeonjun’s arrival. Your nerves are unsettled and your mind is very much being represented like that one scene in Spongebob where he forgets his name and the little sponges in his brain scramble for the answer.
It’s been a long time since you felt this tense, you thought coming here and hiding would be the thrill of your night, turns out that was the most mundane - and unsuccessful part.
The crowd is bigger now, all revved up - no pun intended - for the race. The stakes are high, like really high and you can’t imagine what the outcome could possibly be. 
A thrill courses through the crowd, the anticipation tangible as Jaeyun’s car pulls up on the east side of the track - your side. While most of the TCs around you murmur, assuming he’s just trying to throw Yeonjun off, they couldn’t be further from the truth. Jaeyun’s tactic isn’t about intimidation; he just wants a final glance at you before the race begins, to see you in that dress that Yeonjun hates oh so much, and use it as motivation. He doesn’t want to show off per say, but if you’re impressed, it’s a bonus.
The intensity in his eyes across the crowd is unmistakable, and when he whistles, a slight, beckoning tilt of his head makes it clear he’s calling you over.
You look around to see if anyone noticed, and once you’re convinced they haven’t, you check your brother. Sure enough, he’s deep in conversation with his crew, oblivious as he checks his car’s setup. 
Is it stupid to go over and risk getting caught? Of course. But Jaeyun has a persuasive smile and dreamy eyes to match. So the next thing you know, you take a deep breath, slipping through the sea of people, and make your way towards Jaeyun’s car. His smirk widens as you reach him, his hand already extended to brush your arm.
But you swat it away, half playfully, half serious. “What are you doing?”
“What?” he asks, eyes glinting with amusement. “Can’t a guy get a good luck kiss from his girl?”
“Jaeyun, are you fucking crazy? Look who’s right next to you!” you hiss, gesturing towards Yeonjun, who’s still unaware, thankfully. You really appreciate his attention to detail in these moments.
“Princess, you’ve been sneaking around and bouncing on my cock for seven months now. If he hasn’t caught on by now, I doubt he’s going to. He probably doesn’t even care.” He says it so easily, like all of this has just been in your mind and not a real threat.
“Yeah? Tell that to the way he glared you down not two hours ago. Or did you miss the part where he wanted to tear you to pieces for even breathing next to me?”
Jaeyun barely flinches at the mention, a hint of a pout replacing his smirk. “Come on, it’s my birthday. Don’t you think I deserve at least one little kiss?”
“Didn’t you already use the birthday excuse to get me here?” you counter, eyeing him with a playful twinkle.
“That’s for attendance,” he teases, leaning closer to you, practically hanging out the window just for a taste of you. “Kisses are part of the package.”
Unable to resist the temptation in his eyes, you check over your shoulder one last time before leaning in, brushing your lips against his in what should be a quick peck for luck, but he turns into so much more. 
Jaeyun’s hand slides up to cradle your cheek, his touch warm and possessive. His thumb brushes softly over your skin as he deepens the kiss, ignoring the chaos, this stolen moment is the only thing that matters. His fingertips, rough from years of racing, contrast with the gentle way he holds you, drawing you further into him.
His tongue sweeps over your lips and you can’t help but groan and grant him access to your mouth, praying to the gods to get a taste of him. You’re greedy for him, ravenous almost, and he mirrors your need. If he wasn’t in front of at least one hundred people, including your brother, he would be dragging your pretty ass into this car and watching your tits clap in his face.
But then, like a bucket of cold water, reality hits as Jungwon steps between the two cars, flag poised for the start. You pull away reluctantly and savour the last few pecks Jaeyun plants on your puffy, lipgloss-smudged lips. 
Yeonjun snaps to attention suddenly aware of your appearnce and his voice cuts sharply through the revving engines. “Y/N! What the fuck are you doing?” he shouts, his tone edged with disbelief and frustration. “I told you to stay off the pit!”
You jump, instinctively retreating from Jaeyun’s side as you stammer out a response, just thankful that he didn’t seem to notice how seconds prior you were getting your tonsils tangled with Jaeyun. “I was just…I was wishing you good luck!” You walk quickly, rounding Jaeyun’s car, trying to ignore the lingering sensation of the kiss. But Yeonjun’s face is a mask of exasperation as you approach his window.
“Y/N, get back!” he orders, eyes widening as he glances at Jungwon, who’s counting down without a care in the world.
Only then do you realise you’re directly between the two cars, and neither Jaeyun nor Yeonjun seems willing to delay the race.
“Three!” Jungwon’s deep voice booms, the crowd roaring as the tension builds.
Your feet feel glued to the ground, panic swelling in your chest. You know that chances of you getting hurt are slim, but you’ve never been this close to the race, so close that you can feel the heat from their motors swirling your leg like those snakes on Lucy Grey.
“Two!”
Jungwon raises the flag, ready to unleash it. The cars tremble with power, the engines growling, but your brain’s too scrambled to make a move. Jaeyun sees your tense frame and panics for you, scared of even a scratch on you.
“One!”
Suddenly, you feel a jolt - a car door bumps against the back of your legs, and before you know it, strong hands grab your waist, pulling you backwards in a quick, fluid motion. You land on something soft, but before you even realise what’s happened, Jaeyun’s arm reaches across to steady you in the passenger seat of his car.
“Go!”
With a salute to Yeonjun that’s equal parts taunt and triumph, Jaeyun hits the gas, and the world blurs as he speeds off, leaving your brother gaping in stunned disbelief behind you.
The wind whips through the open passenger door as you scramble to sit upright, barely processing what just happened. You feel like you’re suddenly on a rollercoaster, the car's oomph causing you to stick to the seat like the Sticky Wall.
“Can you shut that, Princess? You’re letting a draft in,” he smirks, too pleased with himself.
But all you can do is stare back, aghast. “What the fuck, Jae?! This is not funny.”
“It’s not, you could have got fucking hurt,” he tries to play it off as a joke but you hear the seriousness in his tone. When you look at him, you also see the slight fear in his eyes.
Jaeyun knows it was stupid to drag you into his car, but he panicked, what else could he do? All the possibilities swam across his mind like a reckless current. You could have gotten scratched up by the grit, swooped under the tyres with the sheer power of the acceleration…or worse.
Not all of these scenarios make sense, but the fear of losing you makes him think even the impossible. So if he can save you even from probabilities, then he will.
You reach over and such the door, the wind making it difficult as he rounds a corner. Once it clicks into place, you relax a little, breathing out. It happened in such a blur that you can’t even figure out where on the track you are. All you know is that Jaeyun is first, and you’re stuck in this race whether you like it or not.
Without taking his eyes off the road or his foot off the accelerator, he reaches over you and grabs the seatbelt, fiddling with it awkwardly to secure you in. You hate to say that you’re looking at the veins on his hands as he unravels it, but you are. You could be helping him and saving him the struggle but it’s just too fucking delicious to look at.
That distraction is the only thing stopping your heart from leaping out of your throat.
“Did you really think dragging me into your car, going a million miles per hour and having to survive the grit track safer than me standing on the starting line?” you question him, disbelief and mockery in your tone.
Jaeyun furrows his brows and lets your words sink in. “Well…when you put it that way, it’s dumb,” he agrees, mentally cursing himself. “But if you think about it, now your brother won’t pull any of his tricks. Not with his precious sister in the car.”
Now that embarrassment for his rash decision is turning into pride. Maybe subconsciously he pulled you into his car as a safety measure, after all, can’t be too careful around a bunch of TCs; not when there is so much at stake.
“Really? I’m a reassurance? What if he’s already planned something and you’ve just brought me to my demise?” It hurts you that Jaeyun truly believes your brother is capable of dirty tricks, but then again, you don’t have one hundred percent faith that he wouldn’t pull something.
Jaeyun looks into his rearview mirror and sees Yeonjun hot on his tail, probably filled with enough fury to power his car without an engine. It makes Jaeyun nervous, both your words and Yeonjun’s gaining speed, but he masks it under a laugh.
“At least we would die together. What’s that song? To die by your side-”
“Is such a heavenly way to die, yeah, yeah, it’s one of my favourite songs,” you admit, heart blushing that he even remembered it considering his playlists contain an abundance of Justin Bieber and other generic pop acts - he’s not really one to appreciate the Smiths. “But I would rather listen to the lyrics than live it out, Jaeyun.”
“I don’t see a double-decker bus,” he looks at you for a split second but it’s long enough that you see the teasing glint in his eye that masks his genuine concern, and weirdly, it puts you at ease. He would never let anything happen to you, you know that deep down.
You let out a genuine laugh and whack his arm playfully. “You know what I mean, Jaeyun.”
“Princess,” he intertwines his fingers with you, a chuckle escaping his lips, “I promise, okay? You will get out of this car in one piece.” Jaeyun kisses your knuckles and it’s both stomach fluttering and impressive how he can handle a car going 80mph and still have time to dote on you.
The romance doesn’t last too long though, because he has to lock in and focus. Behind him, Yeonjun’s car looms closer, headlights glowing like the eyes of a predator. He’s tailing Jaeyun so closely that any error, even a slight miscalculation, could end it all in a brutal collision. Jaeyun glances at his rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of Yeonjun’s face, fierce and determined.
He figured your brother wouldn’t be in the best of moods with his act.
“You think that little gap’s gonna stop him?” you mutter, gripping the seat as Jaeyun expertly rounds another bend, tyres squealing against the track’s rough surface.
“Not a chance,” Jaeyun replies with a grin. “But it’ll take him a few seconds longer. Enough for me to play with.”
He shifts gears, feeling the engine’s deep growl as he powers down a straight stretch, his speedometer needle pushing higher. Yeonjun matches his pace, but Jaeyun, ever the strategist, swerves slightly, throwing up a cloud of grit in his rival’s direction. The dust storm is thick enough to obscure Yeonjun’s vision momentarily, forcing him to fall back by a hair’s breadth.
Jaeyun accelerates, barely missing a pile of tyres on his right. Just as he slips past, Yeonjun veers to the inside lane, attempting to pass on Jaeyun’s left. The corner’s coming up fast - a sharp, unforgiving turn with no forgiveness if they misjudge. Jaeyun catches on immediately, not giving Yeonjun the satisfaction. With a calculated flick of the wheel, he forces Yeonjun to either fall back or risk veering straight into the barrier.
Yeonjun, however, isn’t about to let him off easy. He falls back just enough to avoid a crash but quickly cuts to Jaeyun’s other side, inches away, daring him to swerve first. Their cars glide nearly side-by-side, matching each other’s pace in a tense, furious dance.
It’s so scary, being in the passenger seat of a car that’s almost buckling under the pressure of how fast it’s going. Of course, you knew this was not going to be like overtaking someone on the M8, but you sure as fuck didn’t expect this. The world is flying by you so fast that you can’t begin to comprehend how either of them even drives like this.
Your brother’s car pulls up beside you both and making eye contact with him is the worst thing in the world you could do. 
“Y/N, what the fuck?!” you lip read, unable to actually hear him over the roar of the engines. He blames you so easily -  even if it is 60% of your fault because you answered Jaeyun’s beckon - but it still makes you a little mad. 
Did you want to be dragged into this? Absolutely not. All you wanted was to kiss your pretty non-boyfriend good luck on his birthday, you didn’t need all these dramatics with it; you get enough fireworks in your belly from his pretty mouth alone.
The sound of the engine thunders louder, Jaeyun accelerating and pushing his car beyond its threshold as he glides through the race. It’s all pretty intense - and oddly fun - but it’s not about to be in roughly one minute. 
“Devil’s Corner’s up,” you murmur as if Jaeyun even needs the reminder. But he only nods, that familiar smirk dancing on his lips, a spark of something almost wicked in his eyes.
“I know,” he says with a determined grin, shifting gears smoothly as he sets up for the turn. “This is where your brother won’t risk it. He’s too careful with the track; it’s got him wrapped around its finger.”
“Everyone is careful around this part of the track…” you half express as a statement while also hinting that it could be a question, inquiring what Jaeyun could possibly do next. 
Your trail-off sentence steals his attention and he sees the query in your eyes. He inhales deeply before addressing the elephant in the car you’ve somehow given birth to. 
“Princess, do you trust me?”
“Of course, it’s the track I don’t,” you confess.
“Me either, but I gotta pull all the punches here; for the track, for the Lucifiers…for Mingi.” His voice cracks a little as he thinks of his friend, and the damage it caused him. 
Jaeyun's gaze hardens, fingers gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles whiten, as though he’s holding not just the car but every ounce of the Lucifier’s pride and promise he’s made as their leader. His mind is as sharply focused on Mingi as it is on the wheel, almost as if his friend’s presence is woven into every inch of the track ahead. There’s a weight he feels, a determination to make his best friend proud, to take the track that cost Mingi so much.
"Trusting me means sticking it out," he adds, almost like a dare. “You ready?”
You swallow, nerves bubbling as you nod, barely managing a steady breath. “Just…don’t do anything stupid, okay?” But even as you say it, you know Jaeyun’s already got a strategy, one as risky as it is relentless. He could fucking kill you right now and yet, you’re ready to put your life in his hands, because you know he’s never going to snap it.
Kind of like your heart.
Ahead, Devil’s Corner yawns open like a waiting trap, and Yeonjun knows it. You can feel the weight of your brother’s stare from the other car, his eyes sharp with worry and rivalry. He’s fought this corner countless times and knows that going at it full throttle will never end well. You catch the fleeting look on Yeonjun’s face - a mixture of fear, anger, and an unspoken warning. He’s petrified for you, not knowing how far Jaeyun will go to secure the win.
Yet, you couldn’t be calmer.
“Hold on, yeah?” Jaeyun instructs and you immediately obey, watching as the dial hits it’s peak, his car flying even further in front of Yeonjun’s.
“You need to slow down, Jae…” you warn.
“How about you put that trust into action yeah?” he snaps back, though his anger isn’t directed at you, he’s just nervously tense. Who wouldn’t be in a situation like this? So you don’t hold it against him. If anything, it just makes you want to take his hand in yours and offer him some semblance of comfort. 
But that would be silly right now considering there’s a death corner with you and his name on it.
As Jaeyun steers into Devil’s Corner, the entire car seems to tighten, every movement rippling through you as though you were an ant, squashed under the tyre. The pressure outside is immense, like a wall of wind trying to shove the car off the road. Inside, it’s nearly as suffocating, the tension compressing everything around you, even your heartbeat syncs with each vibration of the engine.
The curve is sharp - even sharper than you’d realised watching from the stands - and you feel the pull of gravity as Jaeyun doesn’t so much follow the turn as he cuts through it, daring the edge. Gravel spits and clinks against the sides of his precious baby.
Yeonjun is somewhere far back, but you can’t even think about him or his safety. The only thing consuming your mind is Jaeyun’s grip on the wheel and the creeping dread and exhilaration fighting for space in your lungs.
Squeezing your eyes shut, you convince yourself that it’s less scary to face it if you can’t actually see it - using the ‘if I can’t see you, you can’t see me’ childlike tactic to feel brave. And in the midst of it all, as the car feels like it’s on the edge of its control, you hear Jaeyun’s voice over the noise - a steadying presence cutting through as he senses your apprehension.
“Nearly there, Princess,” he mutters through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched and his heart holding still within his chest. Although he’s fighting the battle of fear and hope inside of him, his voice anchors you just enough to brace yourself.
The car rockets through the tightest part of the bend, wheels practically skating on the track's very edge - the same edge that caused Mingi his loss of legs. You grip onto whatever you can as Jaeyun’s knuckles whiten, his hands firm and controlled on the wheel. The tension in the car mounts like a coiled spring ready to snap, the corner pulling both of you, testing how far it can go before either you or the car breaks under pressure.
At last, you feel the tail end of the car swerve slightly as Jaeyun gives just enough leeway to keep control, and you can sense him gaining ground, just barely escaping the grasp of the turn. Devil’s Corner spits you both out onto the straight stretch and for a heartbeat, there’s only the muted sound of your breathing, mixing with Jaeyun’s, heavy and relieved.
Finally, you open your eyes to see the road unwinding ahead, straighter, safer, and almost welcoming after the chaos of the corner. Your pulse is still racing, but the danger feels like it’s finally behind you - or so you hope. Jaeyun throws you a quick, side-glance, his usual cocky smirk returned but softer, almost a silent acknowledgement of the risk he just took with you by his side.
He doesn’t need to say anything, but as he shifts gears, pressing down harder on the accelerator to widen the gap between him and Yeonjun, his smirk says it all: That was for Mingi, and for you.
Once he sees the finish line in sight, he breathes out and slaps the wheel harshly. “Fuck, yeah!” he hollers, a shit-eating grin plastered all over his face, victory secured and only a long stretch away. 
“Holy fuck…” you breathe out, chest heaving and eyes glued to the road in front of you.
“And you doubted me,” he feigns an upset pout and tilts his head in your direction.
“Well, you still have Yeonjun to deal with.” The reminder of your brother fast approaching doesn’t rock him, instead, he laughs.
Shaking his head as if Yeonjun’s trailing position is as much of an inconvenience as a bird shitting on his windshield, Jaeyun places a hand on your thigh and squeezes. “He’s still there because I let him be there. Can’t humiliate the guy completely y’know? He’ll be my family in the future.” 
Your mouth opens as you process his words, unsure if he even realises what he just said. It’s a pass-away promise of commitment, and considering you aren’t even officially dating, you would say it’s thrown you off of Everest and has your mind tumbling down after your body.
It’s probably best to bring it up later though, you don’t want to throw him off, especially considering he’s still going 50mph.
He smirks and revs the engine once more, pushing the car just shy of its limits. “Why so worried? I’ve got a perfect record of keeping you safe, don’t I?” He raises an eyebrow at you, his voice laced with that familiar teasing tone.
“Oh, you mean the ‘perfect’ record that almost just got me toppling over into the ditches of Devil’s Corner?” You roll your eyes, but a smile creeps onto your face.
“You’re alive, aren’t you?” he grins, then he pulls his attention fully to the finish line up ahead. It’s close enough now that the crowd is visible, and he salutes them with a quick flick of his hand. 
God, he’s so hot when he’s like this. How lazily arrogant his entire racing persona is. You adore his softer side, of course you do, but this side of him gets your own motor running.
Yeonjun, however, isn’t ready to concede. He surges forward, lining up beside you both in a final, determined push, his car engine roaring with a fury that sends chills down your spine. You see him shoot a glare, not just at Jaeyun, but at you as well. But Jaeyun merely returns the look, cool and unbothered, and then, with one final roar of his engine, he edges past the line first, a triumphant laugh escaping his lips.
Jaeyun’s car barrels across the finish line with a triumphant howl from the crowd, cheers blending with the echo of his engine as he cuts through the air, a living victory. The thrill radiates off him; he punches the air, letting out a victorious whoop as his foot remains steady on the accelerator. He finally glances over at you, his face alive with pure elation, his cocky grin fully in place. But instead of slowing down, he maintains his speed, the wind whipping through the car as you look back at the receding crowd.
"Wait - where are we going?" you ask confused, looking back as you pass by everyone and leaving them in the wake of victory.
Jaeyun flicks his gaze over, eyes dark with both mischief and longing. “I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, Y/N, but you still owe me my birthday present,” he says hick and low, each word like a steady drumbeat against your pulse.
You raise an eyebrow, trying to keep your own voice steady. “Don’t you want to celebrate with everyone? You just won the Lucifers the grit track and Devil’s Corner.”
He lets out a laugh, deep and incredulous. “Celebrate with everyone else? Princess, I’d be out of my mind to spend one more second without seeing what you have for me. I would be fucking insane, actually.” He eyes you hungrily, already imagining all the possibilities under your dress or up your sleeve. His tongue brushes his bottom lip in a glazing swoop, a promise lingering in his gaze that leaves your cheeks feeling warmer than they should.
He shifts gears, and you glance back to see the track and the crowd becoming distant figures in the rearview mirror, your brother among them. “Besides,” Jaeyun adds, leaning closer as he cuts through the night, “Do you really wanna see Yeonjun right now?”
“...No.”
“Good, then trust me.”
_____
The car halts, tyres crunching over gravel as you take in the scene before you. Below the dark sky, the city sprawls out like a tacky but beautiful Christmas night with glittering lights, each window and streetlamp reminiscent of a fairy light. Below, the river carves an almost silver line through it all, shimmering under the moonlight. It’s too beautiful for you to describe and give it the credit it deserves.
Jaeyun doesn’t speak at first. His hand finds yours, fingers slipping through as he releases a slow, steady breath. He wasn’t aware how badly his muscles were suffocating his bones until now. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, an absent yet soothing gesture, and he finally lets himself relax, the hard lines of his jaw softening as he looks at you. The moonlight catches his features, highlighting the relief etched on his face - a look so different from the racer who stared down Devil’s Corner only 20 minutes ago.
For a moment, you both just sit there, silently letting the thrill of the night settle. You turn to him, sensing his guard finally lowered, his eyes holding something warmer, deeper than his usual confident smirk.
“It’s so pretty here,” you murmur softly, nodding towards the city.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, bringing your lips to his hand and kissing your knuckles softly, the tingle from the spark shooting all over your body. “I’d say the view is pretty fucking perfect.”
A blush creeps on your face, his eyes glued onto you as he mumbles the words into your skin, each syllable fluttering to your heart. Of course, he means you. He has seen this exact city view a million times, often coming up here after races to cool off and regather himself. 
It’s the first place he drove to once he heard about Mingi.
It’s the first place he drove to once he met you.
It’s the first time he’s shown someone this spot.
Letting go of your hand, he quickly offers you a small smile before undoing his seatbelt. “C’mon, let's get a closer look.”
With that, you follow him and you both settle against the hood of the car, your shoulders brushing as you take in the sprawling lights below, wrapped in the quiet of the moment. The city glows, pulsing like a heartbeat, life so obvious yet subtle. You tilt your head toward him and nudge him softly.
“So,” you say, half-smiling, “how does it feel?”
“What?” 
“Winning the grit track.”
He shrugs, and his gaze becomes distant, falling somewhere into the night. The silence stretches on, but it’s comfortable, the city’s buzz helping to fill the contemplative silence between words. 
“I don’t care,” he murmurs, surprising you into a pause.
“What do you mean?” you ask, caught off guard. After all, this entire night was about winning the territory, claiming a stake over it and expanding the Lucifers’ ground. It sounds like a shitty action movie on Tubi now that you think about it, but that really is what the crews strive for. So for Jaeyun to say he doesn’t care, when he did what his past leaders couldn’t, throws you for a new one.
“The track…he can keep it,” Jaeyun says with a dismissive wave, almost as if he’s letting go of a heavy burden. “It was never about winning a stupid bit of dirt road.” He pauses, biting his lip as he searches for the right words. “I wanted to prove that TC had something to do in Mingi’s accident.”
The words leave his mouth in a rush, and you feel the weight of his pain and loyalty colliding in that confession. Jaeyun’s gaze stays trained on the city, brow furrowed, his jaw set, the ease on his bones only lasting the skip of a jump rope. 
He truly believes that Yeonjun was involved - that he orchestrated some plan to knock Mingi out. You’ve seen Jaeyun’s loyalty; you know Mingi is more than a friend to him, practically family, and Jaeyun’s heart has no room to consider the idea that Mingi could’ve just…lost control.
You scoot closer, placing a gentle hand on his arm, sensing how vulnerable this confession has left him. “Look, Jaeyun,” you start, hesitating. “I don’t believe my brother would do something like that. But just because you made it through Devil’s Corner safely this time doesn’t rule out anything, yeah? There’s still a chance he had nothing to do with it…but maybe he did.”
He looks at you, contemplation written in the lines around his eyes, but doubt remains.
“I just can’t accept that it was some accident, you know?” he finally says, his voice tight with frustration. “Mingi was solid. The guy could practically drive in his sleep, and suddenly he spins out there?” His shoulders tense as he talks, each word laced with an anger born of grief and unresolved questions. He wants answers, and you sense how deeply he’s embedded in this conviction.
“Okay, so what if…” You hesitate, not truly believing the words coming out of your mouth right now, but knowing Jaeyun needs something to hold onto his faith in Mingi. “What if Yeonjun did have something to do with Mingi’s accident? He could have been planning it tonight but called it off because I was in the car with you?” 
Biting the inside of his cheek, Jaeyun lets out a harsh laugh, but it’s not at you. “Then I could have got you fucking hurt, and what kind of man does that make me?”
It’s as if any reasoning or justification for his actions has suddenly all surged to his mouth and left a bitter taste, one that he finds hard to coat over with some mints. In his mind, he convinced himself for the moment that he was saving you, but in actuality, maybe he was just protecting himself. 
He could have lost you.
That though makes him stand up and walk closer to the cliff edge, not enough to cause you alarm, but enough that indicates he’s in the need of feeling free from his mind.
And that’s something you can definitely help with.
Pushing yourself off the car, you reach out to him, lacing your arms around his waist as you hug him tightly from behind. Instantly, he cups your linked hands in his and melts into you, closing his eyes in relief as you kiss his back ever so gently.
“We can’t know what happened that night, Jaeyun, no one ever will. But it’s also not your battle.”
“But I-”
“No. End of story.” You twist him around to face you, your hands dipping your hands into his back pockets. “Mingi and Yeonjun raced that night, the outcome was what it was, and we have to move on. The longer we sit in the past, in this mindset of what if and what could have been, you prolong everyone’s pain, especially yours. And I won’t sit back and watch you do it.”
It’s tough, and you wish you could have laid it all out a little more prettily, but a dagger of truth won’t sink into skin if it’s covered in padding and fluff. 
Jaeyun’s eyes portray a man trying to will himself to argue with you, that fight for his friend still very much alive. Yet, he knows you’re right. He isn’t helping himself by wallowing in the past, he’s only hurting himself and creating a deeper hole in his chest, one that is consuming him alive.
But no one has told him to get the fuck over it. Not until now.
“I know for a fact that Mingi does not want you dwelling on it, especially not tonight. You won the grit track, I’d say he’ll be over the moon with that, wouldn’t you?”
The last nudge is enough to make Jaeyun nod, a small smile creeping on his face. “Yeah. I saw him before the race and all he asked was ‘don’t fucking die and get us that track’.”
“See? You achieved both of those requests, I would say that’s worth celebrating,” you grin widely up at him, relieved to see his jaw loosen and shoulders unravel themselves. “It’s also your birthday…which is another reason to celebrate.”
Jaeyun checks his watch and sucks in a breath, his playful demeanour slowly coming back to the surface, much to your delight. “It’s actually past my birthday now.”
Widening your eyes, you drag his wrist to your face, reading the clock's arms as they disappointingly read 12:04am. The sadness is plastered all over your face, your eyes looking glassy due to both regret and the cold wind nipping them. 
Jaeyun immediately notices your solemn expression and pouts, holding back a laugh. “Princess, it’s okay.”
“It’s not. I didn’t even get to give you your presents.” You are never one for being late with gifts, in fact, you take birthdays so seriously that gifts are often in your friend’s hands early in the morning. Every birthday is precious to you, well, maybe not your own, but you love to make others feel appreciated and seen on the one day that is reserved for them. 
The racer looks at his watch again and reaches for the dial, twisting it back as the small arrow rounds anti-clockwise to the 11. Happily, he flashes the watch’s face in front of yours. “Look, now it’s 11:05pm. You have 55 minutes left.”
A laugh bursts out of you, the heartache over the small inconvenience now lifted by his antics. He always knows what to do, what to say, how to lift you up so easily, it’s his superpower. 
“Okay, which one do you want first?” you step back and place your hand on your hips, exhaling the drama from tonight out of your system. No more racing, no more brother, no more bad thoughts. Just you and Jaeyun celebrating the final hour of his birthday.
“There’s more than one?” he asks in a smug tone. 
“There are three in total. One is your main present and two are tiny little things,” you explain.
Nodding, Jaeyun feigns ponder as he taps his chin. “Well, I think I should save my main for last, so let’s start with the ‘tiny little things’” he repeats back to you, knowing that they won’t in fact be tiny, their significance probably vastly bigger than any other gift he has ever received throughout his previous 21 birthdays.
Holding up a finger, you tell him to wait before you open the right backseat door of his car and retrieve two carefully wrapped gifts. You put in far too much effort in folding each corner perfectly and twirling every bow to sit neatly, but looking at your work now, you can safely say it was all worth it.
Confusion crosses Jaeyun’s pretty face as he points to his car. “When did you sneak into my car and put them in there?” he asks with piqued confusion. He would notice bright yellow wrapping paper with orange ribbons in a minute, the colours bouncing so brightly off his black interior.
“I didn’t,” you shrug as you confess, holding out the two gifts. “I shoved them both under my seat when you paid for the gas yesterday.”
“Your seat, huh?” he repeats with a lace of amusement, taking the top box from your grasp.
“Well, do you drive other women about?”
“Don’t ask fucking ridiculous questions. You’re the only girl.” 
You curse your stomach for flipping out like it’s on an Alton Towers ride, the statement probably meaning nothing significant from his lips. He always says pass away comments like that, and each one you desperately try not to read into too much, your heart having a hard time already with calling this relationship between you both casual, never mind your brain popping up with conspiratorial thoughts that he could see you as something more than his non-girlfriend.
Gently, his hands peel the wrapping paper off, and reveal the first gift. 
“Lollipops?” he laughs out, though joy shines from his features. 
“Well I saw you were running low, and it is my fault you need to stock up on them, so…” you explain sheepishly, your foot carving out nonsense lines in the gravel.
Since you started hooking up, Jaeyun quit smoking. You hate the taste of the cigarette on his tongue and the smell of it in his car, and he caught onto that instantly. The way you would spray your perfume ‘randomly’ after he flicked the butt out his window, or how you offered him a chewing gum coincidently a few minutes before you climbed into his lap and licked into his mouth. 
It didn’t take a genius to figure it out. 
So he stopped. Cold turkey without a second thought. He still had the itch though, muscle memory constantly bringing something to his lips for a drag. That’s when you gave him a strawberry Chupa Chups and he never looked back. His dentist hates you for it, but his doctor couldn’t be more delighted. 
Taking a cola lollipop from the assorted selection, he unwraps it and places it into his mouth, humming as the beautiful taste hits his tastebuds. His tongue swirls the ball of goodness and he instantly smiles at your reaction, deciding to play on it.
You curse him, his smirk widening as he rolls his eyes and opens his mouth just wide enough for you to watch the cola lolly get coated in his saliva, his tongue enveloping it the exact same way he does with your clit when he’s buried face first between your thighs.
Squeezing your legs together in order to stop the flow of arousal from dripping down your leg, you thrust the other present into his chest, retrieving the box of lollipops from him in the process. The further these things are from his mouth right now, the better.
“Okay, now this one,” you urge, clearing your throat and hating the way he pushes the sweet to the side of his mouth, the stick pocking out the corner of his mouth like a toothpick. Somehow, it only made him hotter, like Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You.
God, now you’re even more horny.
Jaeyun nods and flips the gift over, inspecting what it could possibly be. But he’s never been good at guessing, so he quickly tears the paper off, a little more forcefully than the lollipops. A black box adds another layer of suspense and curiosity. “Did you get me a diamond necklace?” he jokes, but once he peels open the lid, nothing is funny anymore.
His eyes flicker between you and the gift. “Y/N…”
“It’s not much, I know. But I thought it was fun,” you explain, scared that it’s not enough.
Picking it from the box, Jaeyun inspects it carefully. To most, it’s just a keyring, but to him, it’s the most thoughtful gift he has ever been given. The mini replica of his precious car, clearly hand-decorated by you stands out - the red decals and perfectly selected interior act as a mirror to the real thing; even the license plate has his famous J4K3YUN etched into it. The black Honda Civic replica sits so tiny yet powerful in his hands. 
It was the first car he could afford. Everyone laughed at him - even Mingi - when he turned up to his first race. It’s a shitty little car with not much horsepower, but considering he was only seventeen when he started racing, he could hardly afford to put his student loan into a BMW or Aston Martin. Instead, he modified it, just enough to put his name out there.
His baby has never let him down since. All those times everyone has pestered him to trade her in have never crossed his mind. Even you know how much she means to him. Why else would you have given him an oversized keyring of it?
You know him, and that squeezes Jaeyun’s throat, stopping him from expressing thanks.
“If you pop open the boot, it has something inside,” you point out, excited. He’s made modifications to the real thing, but you got crafty with the mini-me.
“Can anything even fit in this?” he laughs but nonetheless, opens the boot - and it is not what he was expecting. 
The interior has been prettily painted pastel pink, with glitter and gems perfectly placed inside, crowding the minuscule space. The first initials of your names are enveloped in a shakily drawn heart. It’s pretty and so very, very you.
Jaeyun’s eyes sparkle in the moonlight and you interpret it as pure adoration, injecting some pride into your chest. He likes it - thank fuck.
“I thought it was fun, since y’know, on the outside you’re all tough and metal but inside you’re just a sparkly pink princess.” You place the lollipop box on the hood and step closer, inspecting your work once more - as if you haven’t been scrutinizing every detail of it over the past month. 
Throwing his head back in a laugh, he blinks away the joy in his tear ducts and nods, sighing out in defeat. “I’m not so sure ‘princess’ is the word I’d use-” he starts, only for you to interrupt.
“Oh, you are,” you insist, taking the lollipop from his mouth and placing it in your own, “You’re the prettiest princess to ever exist, actually.”
“I think that title is reserved for you, baby,” he grins fondly, eyes raking over every feature of your face as you savour the taste of the cola sweet. “Thank you…so much, Y/N, no one has ever gotten me something so thoughtful. I really love-...it. A lot.” His throat tightens, words tangling up in his chest, but thankfully, you don’t seem to notice
Nodding, you give him a soft kiss, careful not to poke him with the lollipop stick, before taking the gift back, carefully placing it and the lollipops in the car for safekeeping. “Now, do you want your big present?” You wiggle your brows and shut the car door, almost skipping back to your spot in front of him.
Jaeyun was so caught up with everything tonight that he forgot that this was the reason he whisked you away as soon as the race ended, at least, it was the shallow reason. The deeper reason is something he won’t speak out into the night air.
Placing his hands on your hips, glides his hands up and down your sides, the warmth from his palms blissfully welcome. You love this dress, the way you feel in it, how it makes you look, but it isn’t exactly good for fighting the nipping cold away, especially considering the wind is much thinner up on the cliff.
“My big present…” he repeats, bringing his face down to yours, his hot breath creating a rose tint along your cheeks. “I think I want that more than anything right now.” His confession is raw and more than surface-level lust. He has so many emotions running through his body right now, and he knows that your present is going to be exactly what he needs.
“You need to unwrap it then.” The smirk on your face is contagious and your voice is low. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what your gift is, but he’s in for a treat nonetheless.
Jaeyun does pause for a moment, his hands fiddling with your zipper at the back but hesitant. “I think my gift might freeze to death if I unwrap it here, don’t you think?” 
You hadn’t…thought about that actually. To be honest, when it comes to Jaeyun’s cock, that’s probably the only thing you think about. Rain or shine, snow or fog; if his dick is close to being inside of you, you’ll face any weather.
His fingers pinch the zipper and tug it down slowly, the winter air biting up your spine, but the shivers that are rippling through your body aren’t from freezing; the opposite in fact. The ghost of his fingertip creates a heated surge through your body, your skin igniting with pure desire. 
Pushing the dress off your shoulders, your tits are laid bare in front of him, nipples hard and much more delicous than any lollipop Jaeyun could ever suck. They’re perfect, so perfect that he has a hard time putting his love for them into words.
“No bra?” he asks cheekily, that cocky boy everyone loves swimming to the surface of the night. 
Shaking your head, you close your eyes as he cups them delicately. “Dress didn’t look right with it.”
“Is that the only reason?” Jaeyun’s thumbs flick over your hardened buds as he backs you up to the hood, you ass perched against the edge, a welcomed seat considering your legs could turn to jelly at any moment.
Truth be told, it was the main reason you didn’t wear a bra, with the tightness of the dress, it didn’t allow much more room for any extra padding. But you can’t lie and say that you also didn;t adorn one because it would save time.
“I’ll take your silence as confirmation, will I?” he murmurs, his lips grazing the hollow of your throat before travelling down, sending waves of warmth through you with each kiss.
You feel the cool press of the hood beneath you as he lifts you up to perch you, his mouth finally closing around one of your nipples now you’re at the perfect height, his tongue tracing lazy, agonising circles that make your breath catch. He shifts to the other, his gaze flicking up to meet yours as he bites gently, eyes smouldering with a dark intensity that only makes you want him more. 
With each flick of his tongue, your mind fogs over, the chill of the night air long forgotten. His mouth leaves a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses as he works his way down, fingers slipping under the fabric gathered at your hips, thumbs tracing soothing lines along your waist.
“Are these new?” he hikes your dress up so only your waist is covered and your new panties are on full display for him. It’s incredible how he noticed initially through touch alone, his mind cataloguing each thong, brief, and lacey panty you own. 
“Yeah, got them a few days ago.” You don’t need to tell him that you bought them specifically for his birthday, he will know just by the Ivory colour alone.
A playful smirk curves on his lips as he takes in the sight of your new lingerie, his fingers grazing over the delicate lace with a possessive tenderness. “I thought so,” he murmurs, voice low and almost reverent as his thumb hooks under the fabric, dragging it down with aching slowness, leaving your cunt exposed, yet you feel anything but vulnerable.
There is a thrill of anticipation that crackles between you as his hands linger, his thumb tracing a line along your thigh. You’re so consumed with how close he is to your heat that you almost miss his other hand coming up to remove the cola lolly from your mouth. 
“Open up,” he instructs, which you blindly follow, releasing the delicious treat from your mouth. “Good girl. Now, spread open for me.”
“Jaeyu-”
“It’s my birthday, Princess. I still have,” he checks his rewound watch, “36 minutes left, so until then, you gotta do what I say, yeah?” 
That sounds perfect to you if you weren’t aware of how much of a tease he is. He’s going to torture you on the hood of his car, you know it, but you relent anyway, giving him a sharp nod and breathing out slowly.
Your legs spread wide, your feet finding stability on his bumper. The compromising position could mean anything, your mind flashing with all the possibilities of what he could do to you.
And by fuck, does he have a sweet, sweet plan.
A glint of mischief flickers in his gaze as he tilts the lollipop, the cola sweet glistening in the moonlight as he brings it down to hover just above your entrance. The sticky sweetness clings to the night air, and you feel your body tense with anticipation, each nerve heightened by the thrill of surrendering control.
He runs the candy along your inner thigh first, slow and deliberate, leaving a faint, sugary trail that he follows with his mouth. The coolness of the lollipop contrasts sharply with the warmth of his breath, sending shivers skittering up your spine as his lips and tongue trace after, claiming every inch of sweetness he’s left on your skin.
Finally, he presses the lollipop between your folds, teasingly dragging it up and down without quite giving you what you need, his eyes fixed on your reactions, devouring every tremor, every bite of your lip and jerk of your hips as the lollipop circles your clit. The sensation is maddening, the blend of sticky from the sweet and your own juices only heightens the ache building within you, and he seems to revel in the slow, torturous rhythm he’s set. He wants to take his time.
The lolly ghosts your entrance before he presses it ever so slightly inside, your breath hitching at the unexpected sensation. His mouth follows close behind, claiming you with a slow, deliberate kiss that has your toes curling against the bumper, his tongue tracing the sweetness lingering on your skin.
A wave of heat radiates through you as Jaeyun continues his maddeningly slow pace, the lollipop pressed just at your entrance, teasing and coaxing you in a way that has your pulse racing, much like how it was when you were near death on Devil’s Corner. 
He dips the lollipop in a little further, the rounded edge pressing in just enough to make you gasp and claw at his car bonnet, and then he draws it back out, running it up and over your clit with agonising patience. The pressure of the sweet gliding over your most sensitive spot has you squirming, but his hands are firm on your thighs, keeping you right where he wants you.
“Hold still,” he murmurs, a wicked smile curving on his lips as he swirls the lollipop slowly, tracing lazy circles that leave you breathless. The candy, now coated in your own slick, sends shockwaves through you, and you feel yourself clenching, trying to draw him deeper, desperate for more. Jaeyun seems to notice, and he chuckles softly, his warm breath tickling against your inner thigh.
With one last, lingering drag of the candy over your clit, he brings it to his mouth, sucking in the mix of flavours. Your sweetness mixing on his tastebuds with the cola makes his eyes roll and contemplate opening up a business just for him that sells pussy flavoured lollies. Specifically, your pussy, of course.
“You’re fucking delicious, Princess,” he moans out, sucking the pop with fervour. You’re so jealous and you curse ever buying him them. But not really, the scene of his tongue lapping it up eagerly, mixed with the saliva that's glistening on his lips only adds a series of precious memories that you can happily store in your wank bank.
Threading your fingers through his hair, you tug at it just rough enough for him to growl. “Please, I’m trying to cum for you before your birthday ends.”
“Yeah?” he huffs out a laugh and tosses the almost obsolete lolly away, the stick hidden by the gravel that swallows it. “I can make that happen.”
“Good-”
“If you beg.”
You freeze, resisting the urge to tell him to go fuck himself. If there is one thing you hate most in the world, it’s begging for a man. You can submit to Jaeyun, sure, that’s easy enough. But there’s something so humiliating about having to plead for your own pleasure. He never makes you beg, usually too fucking impatient himself to play that game, so this is not exactly in your forte.
“I’m not begging. No way.” You cross your arms and shake your head adamantly. 
Jaeyun’s smirk widens as he sees your defiance, his gaze darkening with something that borders on both amusement and challenge. “Really now?” he murmurs as his thumb traces slow circles on your inner thigh, inching achingly close but not quite where you want him. “You’re gonna stand by that?”
His eyes roam over you, taking in the way your body reacts despite your stubbornness, and you can feel the tension building in the air as he leans in, his lips hovering just above your core, close enough for you to feel the heat of his breath. The anticipation sends shivers racing over your skin, but you keep your arms crossed, refusing to relent. 
“I know you hate it. You’re so powerful, baby. I adore that about you,” he continues in a low murmur, voice laced with a teasing edge, “But just once, for me?” He pouts, bottom lip overtaking his entire face and somehow making him look even more irresistible.
That fucking pout.
With a small laugh, he shifts down, pressing soft and tongue-focused kisses along your thighs, each one closer than the last. His breath is warm, and you can feel the control slipping from you with every careful movement.
“Fine,” you say finally, voice barely more than a whisper, “Please, eat me out.” 
“Come on, Princess. If you’re going to beg, I want to hear you properly.”
“Jaeyun,” you whine, already flushing up with embarrassment.
“How about,” his mouth places one feather-light kiss on your clit, a gasp of pleasure drawing from your lips, “I beg you to beg me? Then we’re both on the same boat.” 
Now, while you don’t like to beg, you love to hear Jaeyun beg. There have been countless times when you’re on your knees, much like he is now, and your mouth is a hairline away from his tip, and he’s thrashing under you, moaning out pleas and needs in a higher pitch, wanting nothing more than you to consume his painfully hard cock in his mouth.
Jaeyun doesn’t have humility when he is with you, he’ll scratch and claw at the bedsheets, whine out your name in desperation, and have you take full control if you want to. You wish you could be more like that, because fuck does it look beautiful, and you know he will love it if you’re a crying, pleading mess under him. 
It would be the perfect birthday gift, actually.
So with a heavy sigh, you close your eyes and clear your throat. “Okay. But only if you go first.”
Jaeyun smirks and rubs some heat back into your legs. With soft, kitten-like licks, he plays between your folds, giving you an inch of what's to come. “Princess, please beg for me. I’ve been such a good birthday boy, have I not? I need to hear you want me, the same way I need you. This pretty pussy deserves to be devoured, and I can only do that if you beg for it. Please, baby. Pretty please with a lollipop on top.”
God, he is so fucking good at it. Somehow he still sounds so strong and assured even when you can hear the cracks in his voice and the tremble on his lips. His hips buck the air, mimicking what he wants to do with you, his cock leading him, thinking with his second head.
Whimpering, you look down to see him adorning that pretty pout once again, and you crumble.
“I nod. Jaeyun…please make my cum on your tongue, let me give you the best birthday gift. I want you to lap me up and never stop, make you remember this birthday for the rest of your life. Please, baby.”
You don’t cringe, instead letting your desperation take charge, which gladly works. Jaeyun groans loudly at your filthy words as they echo over the cliff, giving the city indication of what’s taking place. His cock is so painfully hard against his jeans that he wonders if it has the ability to tear through the material like Hulk when he transforms. It certainly feels like it could.
“Good girl,” he praises, before giving you what you crave.
Connecting his mouth to your core, his skilled tongue has you keening, head falling back against the car hood as he licks a broad, firm stroke from your entrance to your clit. His lips close around you, his tongue flicking and swirling as he loses himself in the taste of you, his hands spreading your thighs even wider to hold you firmly in place.
He slurps and devours you, humming into your hole in pure lust. Jaeyun loves nothing more than being buried in pussy, he could spend the rest of his life between thighs, your thighs. The added tints of cola still lingering on your skin only heighten his arousal, the sweet tang mixture enough for him to dig his nails into your thighs and bury further in.
Arching your back, your thighs fight his grip as they try and clamp around his head, the way his tongue dips into your hole, rimming it with teasing strokes before shooting back in makes your head dizzy, the November air suddenly feeling like a July breeze - welcomed and just right.
“Fuck,” you hiss out as he bites at your folds, dragging the sensitive flesh between his teeth, another way of tormenting you yet giving you everything you could want. His bottom teeth drag up to your clit with his puffy bottom lip trailing behind it like a soothing balm. 
You’re starting to wonder whether it’s his birthday or yours.
With precision, Jaeyun latches onto your clit and suddenly, you’re seeing more stars in the sky, body lurching forward as you trap him there. The tension coils tightly in your stomach, and he takes his time, alternating between sucking and licking, bringing you right to the edge and pulling back just before you can tip over, savouring every second of your mounting need.
“Jaeyun, please…” you gasp, fingers threading through his hair, and he hums against you, sending a shudder through your entire body. 
“See? You can beg so easily,” he mocks playfully, smirking as your thighs act as earmuffs. Despite the barricade, he can still hear every plea and mewl that falls from your lips, indicating that you’re close.
So, he picks up the pace, his hands gripping under your ass to push you further into his face. His round nose nuzzles your nub as his tongue swirls around inside your cunt, the tip of his tongue committing every bump and nook to memory - not like he hasn’t already. He knows everything about you, that’s what happens when you spend seven months doting on and worshipping the same person.
Grabbing tightly onto his hair, you feel the knot in your stomach begin to pull apart, the threads of rope straining as your climax tugs. “I’m cumming…fuck, Jaeyun,” you warn, but it’s not breaking news to the man causing the euphoria. He’s licking, sucking, and biting with ferocity because he knows you’re falling apart
He hums against you, the sound vibrating through your body, his tongue flicking over you with such skill it has you trembling. “Come on, Princess. Let go for me,” he whispers, his words like a command, and your body is happy to obey.
And then, it hits you - the release crashing through you, sending shudders of pleasure through every nerve in your body. You can’t stop it, your back arching as you clutch at his hair, your thighs trembling as the wave washes over you, and Jaeyun doesn’t stop. He keeps going, worshipping you like he’s addicted to your taste, drawing out every last drop of your orgasm.
Your chest heaves and your body goes limp as he cleans your pussy, making sure he takes every drop of his birthday gift. You taste heavenly, your cum swirling in his mouth as he slurps and sucks, the shocks jolting up your spine each time he nudges over your clit.
Once your legs release his head, he glances up at you through his thick lashes, mouth covered in your essence. “Thank you, baby,” he praises, his chest filled with a cocktail of emotions, the first as foremost one being adoration. “With 10 minutes to spare too,” he laughs, glancing at his watch.
Jaeyun stands up, kissing you with passion. He transfers your juices onto your mouth and you groan at the taste. All those days of downing pineapple and cranberry juice always pay off. His tongue licks yours, taking over your entire mouth as he claims you. His lips are sweet but his touch is anything but, you know he’s desperate, if his actions weren’t enough, the painful bulge that’s bucking into your sensitive folds is enough to tell you.
Swiftly, your hands move to his buckle, undoing it amongst the breathtaking kisses. It doesn’t take you more than a minute to undo his jeans and push them just low enough that his ass is on full display and his hard shaft can spring free. His cock is so pretty, like a work of art; six inches of pure joy. You’ve lost count of how many times this cock has made you come undone, the curve of it hitting perfectly into your cunt, like it was made for you. In some ways, you think it is.
Spreading your legs once again, you wrap your hand around his cock, the heat from it a stark contrast to your still cold hands. The sensation elicits a hiss from the birthday boy, his lips pulling from yours as he looks down. Your hand just fits around his length, and that makes his tip twitch. He’s proud of his size, but somehow he loves it even more when in the clasp of your fingers.
You press it against your wet core and he loses any sense of control he had left.
With a primal growl, he grabs your hips and lines up at your entrance, not even bothering to tease you. Between your outfit, the rush of the race, your cries of pleasure from his tongue work, and the overwhelming tightness in his heart, he needs to be inside you. Now.
Jaeyun slides in fully with one thrust, both of you creating a beautiful harmony of moans that echo like a choir in the night. His cock fills you up to the brim, his balls sitting comfortably against your ass. You feel like fucking heaven, in fact, if he was to die right now, he would do so happily. Those pearl gates could only mirror the happiness and alleviation that he feels as he buried himself to the hilt inside your warm hole.
His forehead rests on your shoulder, his lips peppering a succession of kisses just above your collarbone as he begins to move his hips, eyes rolling to the back of his head with each bump of your walls hugging him.
“Jesus fucking christ, Princess,” he mumbles, officially lost in the act of pleasure. He’s not thinking about anything else, just how your wet heat feels enveloping him.
You can’t say your thoughts aren’t also only consumed by the tip of his cock poking your cervix so deliciously, his balls slapping against you almost mimicking a spank each time. His thrusts pick up pace and you both lose yourselves in one another, chanting praises and curses to convey your feelings.
Jaeyun’s hands roam over your body as his cock pounds into you, switching from holding your hips in place to kneading your breasts, each one serving their own purpose. He wants you still so he can keep hitting that perfect spot over and over again, the squishy spec in your cunt his main target, but your tits bouncing in the moonlight keep distracting him, his cock losing power as his brain gets clouded in the movements.
“You’re so beautiful, Princess,” he confesses, kissing the valley between your breasts. “So, so beautiful.”
Your heart hammers harder, the pulse resounding in your ear as you smile gratefully. “So are you, Jaeyun.” And you mean it. He’s the most beautiful person inside and out, you’re never going to meet anyone like him again, and that’s what terrifies you.
Jaeyun locks his eyes on yours, his hips finding a new determined rhythm. He presses his forehead against yours, nuzzling his nose with yours in a kiss. How is it possible to feel so adored and cherished by a man you have no label with? That’s the question running through your mind as you stare into his soul, begging for him to answer.
And in some way, he does. His pupils shine with nothing but your reflection, showing just how deeply you're ingrained in him. Though neither of you may voice exactly what this is, you both know it.
As you lose yourselves in each other, that familiar coil tightens low in your belly, heat pooling with a desperate need for release. You dig your nails into Jaeyun's shoulders and bury your face in his neck, signalling you're close.
Gripping your waist, he matches your rhythm, pushing you both to the edge—metaphorically this time, thankfully. He's already brought you close enough to danger tonight; there’s no need to test fate again.
"Come on, baby. Cum for me," he urges, jaw clenched as he holds back his own release. He’s never been one to finish before his girl.
With his coaxing and the delicious sensation of him deep inside, you reach your climax once more, this time more intense than you expected. You bite down on his neck to muffle your moans, and like a domino, he spills into you. 
His white ropes soothe your cunt, painting your walls with his adoration of you. The best decision you ever made was getting an IUD. You know it’s not full protection, but for the feeling of his seed filling you up like a cream piping bag, you’re willing to take the risk.
Jaeyun holds you close, his breath mingling with yours as both of you come down from the high, eyes blazing secret confessions into one another. The steady thud of his heart under your palm feels grounding, almost comforting in the quiet aftermath. You shift slightly, feeling his warmth begin to fade in the cool night air, yet he doesn’t let you go just yet, keeping you wrapped up in him.
“Happy birthday,” you whisper softly, letting your lips brush against his jaw, a faint smile tugging at your mouth. 
Mirroring your expression, he melts into your pepper kisses as you trail down his neck, paying extra attention to the skin you marked up with your canines. His large hands glide up your back and hold you close to him. “Thank you.” It’s simple, but he’s biting his tongue, the moment too perfect to destroy with his post-nut brain.
You sense his apprehension and lean back, gazing into his eyes and studying the specs of his brain that you can make out. “You okay? You’re usually cracking out a joke by now,” you ask playfully, but there’s an undercurrent of concern in your tone.
Jaeyun bites his lips together, preparing himself to possibly make the biggest mistake of his life. He pulls out of you, jerking his cock clean enough that he can get away with it, before tucking it back into his trousers. 
Oh no.
Your mind does everything to convince you that this isn’t going to end the way you think it will. The efforts to soothe your racing mind falter just at the finish line. This is it. He’s going to hit you with the ‘this has been fun but it’s not what I want anymore’ or ‘hey, so this was great but you’re not what i’m looking for’. Whatever concoction of those sentences he wants to spin, you know it’s going to hurt. You’re in too deep.
And you would much rather be humiliated with your clothes on. So you jump off the hood of the car, your slick glistening in the night lights like a snail trail. Suddenly, the acts you just took part in have turned from euphoric to sickly.
“Listen-”
“I meant it,” he interrupts, not even letting you end this before he can. “I really mean it when I say you’re the only girl for me.”
You’re waiting on the but, yet it never comes. Instead, he’s biting his lip nervously, looking at you but not into your eyes, his focus on your forehead like a sniper in the woods. And you feel like you’ve been shot, just not in the hurtful way you were expecting, it’s almost like you’re on the receiving end of a blank and the shock is ringing in your ears more than anything.
You stand dumbfounded, zipping up your dress at the back. “Huh?” It’s stupid and not what you want to ask, but your flabber has been gasted.
Jaeyun groans and rubs over his face. “I don’t want anyone else. And I know you’re annoyingly loyal to Yeonjun, but I can’t pretend that this isn’t more than what it is.” He steps forward and cups your flushed face, the cold now settling upon it once again. “I. Love. You. I have for fucking months, and…I don’t know, I can’t keep pretending I don’t.”
I. Love. You.
It’s such a simple and common phrase, yet hearing it in his accent, from his mouth, directed at you, you find it foreign. 
Jaeyun hates the silence that follows, the horns from the cars down below act like a mocking laugh to the moment. He knows its risky, confessing his feelings so bluntly, but if he had to keep them in any longer then he might have buried them forever and harboured an even deeper resentment towards himself and your brother.
“You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, I get that. But can we call a spade a spade and admit that we love each other?” He insists, now finding his confidence. Go big or go home, he supposes. He’s convinced you love him too, you look at him the way he does you, and even if it’s only a tiny speckle of love that you hold for him, he needs you to admit it. For his sanity, and yours.
You can’t process a single thought beyond his words, their weight pressing down on you, making it impossible to breathe for a second. The world falls quiet around you, the buzzing city and distant hum of traffic fading as your mind hones in on his face, the intensity of his gaze, the subtle quiver of his lip as he waits.
“Jaeyun,” you manage, though it barely comes out above a whisper, “This isn’t…this isn’t exactly what we agreed on.” Stupid. Why the fuck are you saying that NOW.
“I know, but I also know you feel it too.” His thumb moves tenderly across your cheek, brushing over the spot where a tear might fall if you let it. “And if there’s even the slightest chance that you feel what I feel, I just need to know.” He pauses, his voice softening as he meets your gaze fully. “Because you’re it for me. I’m tired of pretending I don’t want to be with you completely. You deserve to be loved, and although I might not deserve to be the one to give you that, I want to try.”
You want to look away, to retreat and give yourself a chance to think, but his eyes are pleading with you to stay present, to face this. And the truth is, in some corner of your heart that you've tried to ignore, you know what he's saying is true.
But Yeonjun…If he finds out, he’ll never forgive you. It’s one thing to be in a fun fling with his rival, it’s another to be completely and utterly head over heels for the boy.
The silence is thick, but there’s an odd comfort in it. You reach up, covering his hand with yours, grounding yourself in his warmth. “I don’t want to lose you,” you murmur, voice trembling. “And I…I don’t know how we’d make it work without hurting Yeonjun.”
Jaeyun’s grip tightens, his confidence anchoring you. “I’ll make it work. I’ll do everything to make sure he accepts it. I’ll step down as the Lucifer’s leader, I’ll get on my knees and beg, baby I will do whatever it takes to get him on our side. I don’t want to come between you both, I know how precious he is to you, and you to him,” he pauses, breathing out and collecting his thoughts before he goes on a desperate faffing rant, his point losing focus. “I love you, and that means loving every part of you.”
“In the car…” you begin, voice unsure, “You said something about how Yeonjun would become your family, you meant-”
“Yeah, listen. Don’t freak out about that. I was jumping the gun with that one…but I mean, is it so unplausible? For us to be together? To imagine a future with you?”
“There’s a big difference between jumping into dating and leaping into marriage, Jaeyun.”
“Okay? So we’ll hold back on the leaping for now,” he laughs, pressing his forehead to yours, “but tell me you’ll jump.”
His breath mingles with yours, warm and steadying, grounding you in a way that makes your hesitation falter. "Jaeyun," you begin, your voice so soft it barely carries the weight of what you’re feeling. "It’s terrifying to even think about, you know that, right? Yeonjun is…he's been there my whole life, my protector, my brother…you’re asking me to risk that.”
"I know." He cups your face, his thumb tracing slow, tender circles along your cheek, calming and reassuring. "And I wouldn't ask you if I didn’t believe with every part of me that we’re worth it. But I’m not going anywhere until you’re ready; whether that’s now, or tomorrow, or a hundred years from now. I’m in this, Y/N. All the way. I just need you to say yes."
Your lips part, the words catching in your throat, suspended between the comfort of safety and the thrill of the unknown. Slowly, you reach out and lace your fingers through his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Alright," you say, a tremor of nerves mingling with the glint of determination in your eyes. "I’ll jump…but you’d better catch me, Jaeyun."
A grin breaks across his face, and for a moment, everything else fades away; the rivalry, the fear, even Yeonjun. It’s just you and him, exactly how it should have been from the beginning.
"Always," he whispers, voice filled with quiet conviction. Then he closes the distance between you, sealing your promise with a kiss that’s soft, lingering, and brimming with all the words neither of you dared to speak out loud.
But maybe it’s time you do
“I love you too, Jaeyun,” you confess, eyes boring into his heart.
His eyes widen for a split second, and you see the disbelief flicker across his face, not quite sure he heard you right. But then his gaze softens, and a smile breaks across his face, one so genuine and unguarded that it sends warmth flooding through you. His hand tightens around yours, squeezing his happiness into your veins and bones.
"You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that," he murmurs, brushing his thumb over your knuckles with a tenderness that leaves your heart aching. “I fucking love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.” He chants, kissing all over your face, causing you to scrunch up and laugh, attempting to push him away but failing - not that you’re going to complain about that.
There’s a sense of relief, a lightness you haven’t felt in so long, as if all the weight of secrecy and uncertainty has lifted. For once, you’re not worrying about the consequences, about what could go wrong or who might get hurt. Right now, it’s just you and him, and the truth laid bare between you.
“Yes, okay, we love each other! Enough!” you giggle between his million and one kisses.
His hand comes up to cradle your cheek, his fingers grazing your skin with reverence. “I’m never letting you go now, you realise that, don’t you?”
You nod, a smile creeping across your face, and pull him in for another kiss, this one filled with the promise of everything that lies ahead. “Oh I know. Just wait till I tell your crew,” you laugh, pushing him away. “‘Oh, Y/N, I love you sooooo much. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me-'”
Your imitation is cut short, his hand flying over your mouth as he suppresses a laugh, trying to portray fear that isn’t truly there. “C’mon! You can’t ruin my reputation like that,” he whines, giving you that signature pout. 
“Oh but I will-” Without warning, he picks you up, tossing you over his shoulder as he carried you to the backseat. “Jaeyun! Put me down!”
“I’m going to fuck every word and thought out of that pretty brain of yours so you never utter my soft side to a soul,” he playfully jabs, opening the backseat and tossing you inside.
“Well…I have a lot of thoughts…and words,” you reply, biting your lip as you settle across the seats, legs already accommodating for him.
“Then it’s gonna be a long night. I suppose I’ll need to turn my clock back some more, don’t you think?”
____
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woso-dreamzzz · 15 hours ago
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Hair
Irene Paredes x Child!Reader
Summary: You help your Mami when she gets a red
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You’ve travelled with Mami for once.
Mama is at home with your little brother Matteo but you’re not really worried.
You’re a good traveller. Mami says so because you were born when she used to play in France so you’re used to going back and forth between countries. You know how to amuse yourself by playing or doing your homework or your reading.
Mami says you’re very responsible.
Since coming home to Spain and to Barcelona, you’ve not travelled as much. You’ve stayed with Mama at home even though travelling and going on planes is much more interesting.
You don’t know why Mami decided you could come with her this time but you have and you’re happy.
Or you were happy until Mami got her red card.
You’re not quite sure what happened apart from the fact that her leg was too high.
You know all about high legs.
At Taekwondo, your teacher explains all about how head shots are very dangerous because the head is a very important part of your body and that’s why people wear caps to protect them during sparring.
You’re still kind of small (but growing all the time!) so you’re not allowed to do any head shots of your own. But you know they’re dangerous and you know Mami is not going to argue her card even if someone else will.
“Mami?”
“Go back to the bench, squirt,” Irene says as she breezes past you to the locker rooms.
When you were younger, that used to work but you’re nearly eight now and Mama says you’re moving under your own power so you think that means that Mami’s orders don’t work on your anymore.
“No!” You say stamping your foot right in the tunnel.
Irene scrubs a hand over her face as she turns around to face you. “I don’t have the patience to deal with a tantrum right now, squirt. Go back to the bench and finish watching.”
You stamp your foot again. “I’m not having a tantrum, you’re having a tantrum!”
Irene sighs. “If you come with me now, you’re not allowed back out. We stay in the locker room. But you can keep watching the match if you head back outside.”
Your foot goes again. “With you.”
You’d inherited her stubbornness, Irene notes. Her hair. Her eyes. The tight set of her jaw. And her stubbornness.
Irene holds her hand out for you. You take it.
You’re a different beast to your brother.
Matteo is still small, still practically a baby. She and Lucia had been worried about the age gap between you both. At nearly eight, you towered over him with your toys and your rambunctious nature.
You were not unlike Lucy and Keira’s (and increasingly Ona's) Pup but maybe a bit lower energy now that you’re gotten older. More disciplined is what Lucia would say, now that you’ve had your energy redirected into Taekwondo. Disciplined and strangely emotionally intelligent.
Irene supposes she should pat herself on the back with that. She’d never agreed with hitting kids even if it’s a little scuff on the back of the head to redirect them. No whacks, no spanks, no hits.
She talked your through your emotions and now that you were older, you were able to talk her through them too.
You hold her hand now as she walks back to the locker room.
“Mami, are we showering?”
“Aren’t you a bit too old to shower with me, squirt?” She teases, grabbing her toiletries and a towel. “You’re nearly eight now.”
You puff out your chest at the reminder. “I’m not going in with you! Just wanted to know.”
“I’m going to shower. You can take a shower if you want but you have to come into mine if you’re going to be washing your hair.”
You tug at the end of your braid.
Lucia likes your hair long and Irene has to admit that she does too.
You’d come out with a full head of hair, screaming and crying your arrival to the world as Irene panted from all the energy she’d spent pushing you out. Screaming, crying, with thick hair as you were gently rest on her chest.
Your hair had remained just as thick as then, growing quickly to the point that regular trips to get it cut were needed.
But washing it was always a challenge. Lots of shampoo. Lots of conditioner. Lots of time spent in the tub trying to get it all washed.
It’s part of the reason why it’s done in the morning too. You hate the hairdryer but you hate sleeping with wet hair even more so washing it is always done in the morning so it can air dry before bed.
“Wash my hair?” You ask and Irene nods.
“You’ll have to shower with me then if we’re washing your hair. Is that okay?”
You nod. “Uh-huh.”
“Alright, squirt. Let’s go.”
Irene’s original plan was to drown herself in the shower, to stay there until the match was over and she could finally face her teammates again. The red card was justified, she knows that but it doesn’t mean there isn’t still a bit of a sting.
She was happy to leave you on the bench, safe with the others so Irene could wash away her anger and resentment while you were occupied.
But now you’re here with her, asking to have your hair washed and looking up at her like you just know she needs something like this to keep occupied.
It’s an easy routine to get through, to lather her hands with shampoo and massage it into your scalp. To wash it all out before moving onto the conditioner.
Two rounds of conditioner and you look up at her with a smile.
“I can wash your hair now, Mami?” You ask and Irene laughs, pushing away the wet strands from your face.
“I think you’re a little small to be doing that, squirt.”
You puff out your cheeks. “Are you sure? I’ve definitely grown since Mama last measured me!” To demonstrate, you stretch up to your tiptoes and reach as high as you can.
“Maybe when you’re taller,” Irene says placidly,” Come on. Grab your towel and we’ll get out.”
Irene’s just gotten yours and her own clothes on by the time that everyone else has arrived.
“Whoa,” Jenni says as she comes in,” You’re dripping everywhere, squirt!”
Irene sighs as she turns around. “You should have seen just how wet it was earlier. Absolutely everywhere.”
“We can tell,” Codi snickers,” There’s a river to the showers.”
“I’ve braided it back again,” Irene offers up weakly as she watches Alexia crouch in front of you.
“You know you’ll have to sleep with that wet hair,” Alexia reminds you.
You giggle. “No, I won’t. We call Mama and Matteo tonight. Mama will see my hair. She won’t let Mami put me to bed with wet hair. She says it’s naughty.”
“Devious,” Alexia says approvingly.
You high five her and look back at Irene, who shakes her head fondly at you.
“We’ll be having words about your eversion to the hairdryer.” She wiggles her finger teasingly at you and you grin.
You stick your tongue out. “You have to talk to Mama first.”
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selfloverrrrrr · 2 days ago
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Can you please write a tiger hybrid Gojo x deer hybrid female reader Noncon
Please please please please please please please please please please please please please please please 😭🎀💖😫
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Lust~
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Warnings : smut , heavy smut, unprotected sex, Noncon, Kidnapping, physical and emotional abuse, biting, size difference, Yandere Gojo, tiger hybrid Gojo, deer hybrid reader, stalking, protective, jealous, obsessive, manipulative....
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( All characters are aged up/18+)
Minors Do Not Interact
Read the warnings carefully....if you don't like my stories block me not report
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Y/n's POV
"are you the new girl?" I heard someone asked me when I entered my new college. I turned around and saw a girl with short brown hair, a cigarette in her hand. "Yes.... I'm y/n... and you?" I asked. "I'm Shoko. Nice to meet you" she said and gave me a hug. "Why are you so nervous? I mean you seem so nervous" she asked. "Oh nothing.... it's just....my first day" I replied.
"goshhhhhh.... you're nervous for that?are you kidding me? Don't be nervous... I'm here with you " she said with a bright smile. I returned her the smile. "Thank you so much " I said. "Mention not " she replied. We started walking towards our class. "So? What hybrid are you?" She asked. "Me? I'm deer..." I replied.
"oh the rare one" Shoko said. I nodded. "And you?" I asked. "I'm a cat" she replied. "Ohhhh... cool" I said. She smiled "yeah". We were walking through the corridor and heard a female voice "good morning, Shoko" she said. We both turned around.
There was standing a pretty girl. She had blue hair tied up in a ponytail. "Oh good morning, Mei-saan" Shoko said. Then the girl looked at me. "Are you new here? I haven't seen you here" she asked. "Yes she's new....her name is y/n" Shoko replied.
"oh... nice to meet you, y/n.... I'm Mei Mei" she greeted. "Nice to meet you too, Mei-saan " I greeted het back. Then we went to the class room. Mei Mei went to her seat. Shoko told me to sit beside her. I did as well. We were sitting there and talking with each other.
I felt like someone was starting at me. So I checked around me. I saw a guy with white hair and bright blue eyes. He was looking at me but when I looked at him he immediately looked away and started talking with his friends. I thought maybe he was looking because I'm new here but he seemed weird. I turned around to Shoko.
"um Shoko?" I asked. "Yes?" She asked back. "Who's that guy? The white haired guy...?" I asked. "You mean him?" She asked. "Yes" I replied. "Girl just stay away from him... he's an asshole. I don't know what all these girls sees in him. Do not talk to him. if he wants to get close just ignore him. Okay?" She said.
"okay... but why are you saying it?" I asked. "Okay lemme tell you... his name is Gojo Satoru. And the thing is he's the son of the biggest mafia here. Everyone fears him. He's strong tho... He does too many illegal things like his dad. And the worst thing is he's a tiger hybrid. And I'm suggesting you to stay away because 1. He's a dangerous mafia and 2. You're a deer hybrid which is tiger's favourite animal. And I know he'll definitely hit on you because as I said you're the only deer hybrid here. And believe me he's the worst guy.... I'm saying this for your safety, girlie" Shoko explained.
I was in shock after hearing that. "That's too much.... anyways I don't wanna get in any trouble. But he doesn't know I'm a deer hybrid" I said. "He's a tiger hybrid, darlo....he can sense anything and he can get any information he wants" Shoko said. "Okay okay.... just.... just gonna ignore him" I said. She winked at me.
When I looked back again I saw a guy entering the classroom. That guy was so handsome. He has black long hair tied up in a bun, sharp eyes. My heat almost stopped when I saw him. I looked back at Shoko again. "Girl girl girl.... who's that guy????" I asked pointing at the guy.
"don't tell me you like him" Shoko said. "Why??? He's so handsome" I said with a pouty face. "He is Geto Suguru. He's a fox hybrid. And he is Gojo's best friend. He may seem so innocent but don't believe him either. They both are dangerous" Shoko said. I sighed "fine" I said. Shoko chuckled.
Gojo's POV
It was again a normal day in our college. I went inside of our classroom towards my friends. "Yoooo" I said and hi-fied with my friends. "What happened, Sukuna? You seem off?" I asked. "Nah... I'm just kinda sleepy today" he replied. I nodded. I heard some girls laughing. Then I looked at the door and saw Shoko. I was about to turn my head back to my friends when I spotted another girl behind her.
I never saw her before here. Is she new here? God she's so pretty. Girls like her exist? I questioned myself. Her eyes are so pretty. I think she's a deer hybrid. "Yo boys.... who's that girl?" I asked my friends. "I think she's the new student sir was talking about yesterday " one of them replied. I nodded. Then Suguru entered.
"what y'all talking about?" Suguru asked. "That girl... she's new here .... she's pretty" I replied. "Oh .... Satoru gotta crush huh?" He teased. I rolled my eyes. When I looked at her again she was looking at Suguru. Does she like him? Who cares? I'm still gonna have her. "Btw I saw her talking with Mei Mei outside" Suguru said. "Mei Mei? That's easy now" I replied with a smirk.
It was almost a week. And she's ignoring me?! All those girls die to date me and she's ignoring my offers?! All those hints I'm giving her by putting flowers in front of her droom room door every morning and she's ignoring me? Ignoring the Gojo Satoru? Today when we were in our class I spotted Mei Mei and called her.
"what?" She asked. "You have to a work" I said. "What work?" She asked. "You know I'm throwing halloween party two days later? You have to take y/n there" I said. "Y/n? She has a crush on Geto" she said. So I guessed right. "Anyways why am I gonna do that? She's a deer hybrid and you're a tiger hybrid, she'll be scared of you" She asked. "100 k" I replied. "Your work will be done" she replied and I smirked.
Y/n's POV
It was the party night and I just got ready in the costume Mei Mei gave me. "Mei-saan don't you think this bunny costume is too revealing?" I asked. "Come on y/n.... you look sexy " she replied. "But-" I was about to reply her when she cuts me off "y/n.... believe me.... and we all friends will be there too" she said. "Okay then.... let's go" I replied.
First I spotted Shoko. She was in a cow girl costume. "Shoko, you're looking stunning!" I said. "Stop girl you're looking Fucking sexy!" She replied. "Do you think this is too revealing?" I asked. "No... it's fine... you look sexy.... revealing clothes suits you" she said and winked.
We we're having fun. Then after a few hours Shoko said she'll come back haibara her boyfriend is calling her. I said okay and went to the drinks counter.
Gojo's POV
I didn't noticed when y/n came in my party. I noticed her when I was chatting with my friends and I spotted her near the drinks counter. Fuck she looks so hot! How am I supposed to control myself when she's looking so damn. I think Mei Mei did a great job. "Yo Gojo, what happened?" Sukuna asked.
"y/n happened" I replied. All of their eyes went to her. "Damn....that bitch looks sexy" Sukuna same. I gave him a glare. "Chill I'm just giving a compliment" Sukuna replied with a chuckle. "Weren't you saying she has a crush on me, Satoru?" Suguru asked. "Yupp she does" I replied. "Fine.... lemme help you with your plan. Go to the balcony in front of your room after 5 minutes" Suguru said with a wink and I understood what he meant.
Y/n's POV
I was about to order a drink when a male figure came beside me. "Hello.... your name is y/n, right?" He said. I turned my head and saw Geto standing there. And oh my God. He was in a pirate costume and he was looking so hottttt. "Yes" I replied with a smile. Shoko isn't here that means I can talk to him for a moment.
"you're looking great" he said. "T-thanks.... you looking great too tonight " I replied. "Just tonight?" He asked tilting his head aside. I blushed. "N-No i-i.... I mean every day " I said. "So you do notice me every day?" He asked with a smirk. Then he chuckled. "I'm kidding " he said. "Wanna talk somewhere private? Too much loud music playing here" he asked. "Yeah sure " I replied. He took my hand and led me.
We were standing in a balcony and talking about each other. "Oh I forgot my phone.... can you wait for a moment? I'm gonna come back here" he said. "Yes yes it's okay" I replied. He leaves from there. And I was standing there and waiting for Geto to come back. I heard some footsteps coming. That means Geto is coming, right?
But my smile dropped when I saw who was standing there. Gojo Satoru. Why is he here. "You don't seem happy to see me here" he said walking towards me. My heartbeat was rising. "I-i... I should go it's already too late-" I said and tried to walk past him. But he wrapped his hand around my waist and pulled me against him.
"tsk tsk tsk.... not now" he said and picked me up with his one hand and started walking. "W-wait what are you doing!" I panicked. Then I saw he opened a room's door. "W-wait put me down...let me go" I said with panic. He put me down after he entered the room. That was a luxurious room. He locked the door.
"wait let me go outside" I said. "There's nothing interesting happening outside, sweetheart" he replied and started walking towards me. I started baking up. I felt like I am a prey. "Gojo P-Please stop there" I said. "Ah....so you finally took my name.... now call me Satoru not Gojo" he said.
He was now standing in front of me there's no way escaping now the back of my foot already touched the bed. My eyes filled with tears from fear. "P-Please" I begged. He pushed both of us on the bed. "Do you really think begging gonna work?" He said and chuckled. I struggled beneath him and tried to push him away.
I screamed Geto's name for help. "Getooooo please help me!!!!" I cried out. "Oh you think he's gonna come? That's funny" Gojo said and tore off my costume. My cries grew louder. "A deer hybrid in a slutty bunny costume looks great.... and looks even more great without them" he said with an evil smirk.
With that he pressed his lips on mine. I tried to push him away but his grip was too strong. I can't even move myself. He was kissing me too roughly. I couldn't breathe. He grabbed the hem of my dress and pulled it over my head which was already soaked with the rain water. My boobs bounced out. He looked at those with lust in his eyes. His eyes shined in the dim light. He didn't waste any time, crashed his mouth on my breast licking, sucking and teasing the nipple and squeezing the other one with his hand. I moaned in the sensetion. I grabbed his hair and tried to stop him by pulling it but it didn't even effect on him. "G-gojo stopppp" I screamed but he didn't stop. "It's Satoru, darling "
Then he took off my pantie. He looked at my pussy. He rubbed his finger on my clit and whispered " so wet. You naughty little slut, getting wet for me huh?". Then he licked my pussy. I couldn't help but moan loudly. He smirked at my reaction and undo his pants.
His dick sprang out. It was too big and too thick. "Look... this is what you have done to me..." he said while stroking his dick. Fear grabbed me by my neck. " G-gojo no no no... P-please no... s-stop" I begged but didn't even listen to me and slammed his whole dick inside me in one slide. I screamed. He didn't even give me time to adjust his size and started thrusting in and out roughly. I was through my legs with pain and begging him to stop. And he liked it so much. His thrust became harder and harder.
I clenched around him tightly and he moaned loudly " ughhhhhh....ahhh s-so...ahhhh....so f-fucking tight " he started rubbing my clit with his thumb and I bite his shoulder scratched his back to control myself. With a few more thrust I came. He was still thrusting roughly. I felt his cock pulsing inside me. I tried to push him away with all of my strength." Ughh...no no no no...ahhhhhh... I don't want this ..." I moaned. Suddenly I felt his teeth gazing at my neck. "No no no d-don't please don't Mark me please " I cried out. He just ignored my please and bite my neck harshly. I dig my nails more deeper into his back as he Marked me. He continued thrusting. Within a minute he came inside me I could feel his seed inside me. He pulled out. He fell beside me on the bed.
I didn't have the power to move or sit up. "Don't cover the mark tomorrow I want the whole college to see it...... and oh by the way your beloved crush Suguru helped with this" he declared. No that can't be.... Geto won't right? Gojo is just lying. I kept telling myself. "Good night sweetheart ~" he whispered in my ear as the night went blur.
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lucygraysboy · 3 hours ago
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“looked like seven when you woke up, too,” he agrees with a chuckle but then begins to pout, clutching his side and rubbing the very spot she just poked. he would be lying if he said that he didn’t like it, though, engaging in this familiar, playful banter with his childhood sweetheart. it’s like coming home after a long day. she’s his safe haven, his favorite person. “no proof ‘cause you disposed of all evidence. smart,” he laughs, but deep down wonders if she’d had more before the show, if it’s a habit now — they play and then she gets drunk and goes home with strangers. he’s not one to judge, but he’s concerned about her safety. “you look so beautiful, that’s why they’re lookin’ at you. they’re tryin’ to figure out what this disney princess is doin’ in nashville,” he whispers, leaning closer to her ear with a smile. their fingers remain laced as he refuses to let go. “alright, i’ll only ride it occasionally.” seeing how worried she is about him, he feels all warm and fluttery inside because it must mean that she still cares very deeply for him. he doesn’t know how easy changing his lifestyle will be, but he’ll do his best to choose other forms of transportation, especially once she’s living with him. “horses are beautiful, but they can be dangerous, too. then again, i could be walkin’ down the street, slip on a puddle and break my neck. accidents happen.” traffic in new york city is so bad that having a motorcycle can be life-saving. “i know, lucy gray. you’re the sweetest person in the world.” she’s proven time and time again that money doesn’t matter. he could own nothing but the shirt on his back, heat up a TV dinner and she’d still be grateful. she deserves a lot more, though. and now that he finally can, he wants to give her the world. “ladies first,” he muses sweetly, letting lucy gray step off the elevator first, his finger still clinging onto hers for dear life. maybe it’s childish, but he likes the little reminder that it’s all happening for real, that there’s still room for reconciliation. 
“whoa, it really is.” his eyes flickering to the floor-to-ceiling windows, mesmerized by the world outside. still, his gaze quickly falls back to lucy gray, more interested in taking in her reaction than anything else. she’s way more beautiful than any city, and her childlike wonderment is so infectious, so heart-melting. “we have to stay for dessert ‘cause imagine how breathtakingly beautiful all the city lights must look from up here.” the size of the restaurant is impressive, the air filled with mouthwatering scents that make billy’s stomach growl in anticipation. “good evening, we have a reservation. william h. bonney. a table for two.” the host smiles politely at them, notes something down and leads them to their table, wishing them a lovely time. billy catches a glimpse of the high ceiling, lined with gold and ornately painted. there’s a large, modern bar off the side. they get seated near one of the windows facing the west side, which gives them the perfect view of the leisurely setting sun. billy thanks the host and pulls out a chair for lucy gray to sit on. “secret hang outs are our kind of thing, right?”
“my bad, it felt like seven when i first woke up.” grumpily retorting, deciding to jab him in his side with her pointer finger as they mosey on through the lobby, “no proof anyway.” on how many she downed. catching a few of the heavy stares weighing down on them, the songstress stares back and gives strangers a big friendly smile. something they probably didn’t expect. but like her mama always said, don’t meet people with weird stares back— surprise ‘em and you might just make their day smiling back. something most people in this world have forgotten to do. “that’s interestin’. my mama’s a chatterbox too, so maybe they’ll become friends from that.” a soft laugh sounds from her, pinky still clinging to his. “alright, i’ll show you some more pictures later.” when they wrap up their dinner… that’s currently making her empty belly growl even hungrier now that her mind thinks about all the food she’s getting ready to be able to choose from. “well, you can’t always be in control of that no matter how good you are at it, billy. it’s just— those things are more dangerous than bein’ on a horse, in a car, in a plane. maybe don’t ride it very often.” she still worries, hating the idea of it— feeling scared something bad could happen to him when she’s seen too many motorcycle fatalities. “alrighty, then. i don’t mind waffle house or even a gas station— but i’m excited to try out a fancy meal with you. thanks for comin’ up with this idea and invitin’ me to it.” a happy grin has her face coming alive like a ball of sun, feeling grateful she is getting to be cordial with him again. thinking of how the scenario could be different, he could still be that person who doesn’t talk to her. it just annoys herself because she begins to wonder if there’s ulterior motives — like him just being lonely because him and his girlfriend isn’t working out. before she can sour her own mood with her worries, she counts down the floor numbers instead of dwelling. eyes occasionally flickering up on his rosy cheeks, then back on the numbers, stifling a laugh at why in the world he’s shying up. finally a ding! the doors open up and she steps out first… eager to see this place from way up high like he said. the windows are everywhere so immediately she sees parts of the city before they’ve even reached the host and guest check in. “wow, look at all that… that’s an amazin’ sight to see,” doe eyes lighting up, in awe and completely wowed, “and it’s all like a hidden gem. a secret hang out.”
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trashydez · 3 days ago
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like a phoenix. (2.7k words)
what if phoenix- instead of being virtually indestructible, actually wasnt? what if he was actually incredibly prone to death, but he just… never stayed dead?
(trigger warning for a multitude of causes of deaths!! some in detail and some not. other tw’s include implied suicide attempts, implied child neglect, derealisation and thinking one is already dead. be warned! take care of yourself!)
at 9, he wakes in his bed after having a high fever and his mom ships him off to school hours after it began. he finds it odd, because last he’d checked his temperature (that morning, when he told his mom he felt like he was going to die and his mom had left to go run errands, barely sparing him a glance), his temperature had been at 107 degrees farenheit. that was definitely high, but after he slipped into unconsciousness, writhing and restless and in a lot of pain, he woke up to his mother checking his temperature and saying he was fine to head off to school. he didnt feel fine, but his temperature had gone down significantly enough that his mother felt like he had no excuse not to go. hes glad he went to school though, even as he shivered, sneezed and sniffled, because there he found a friend in a boy with a funny bowtie and a heart made of gold.
he crunches and chokes on glass shards and poison but doesnt die. the doctors dont find anything wrong with him, aside from feeling a bit ill, so he goes back into the courtroom and dollie is convicted of murder. hes happy his roommate is away for some theatre troupe thing, because the sickness eventually catches up to him and he throws up shards of glass, acid and blood. it cuts into his throat and burns his eyes and he swears, he swears he dies right then and there, freezing and shaking and everything hurts. but when he wakes up hours later, the sun having set and the only light source in his dingy dormroom the moon outside, hes amazed to not feel sick anymore. but the puddle of sludge is drying beside his face and he considers himself lucky, or maybe unlucky, because unlike dahlia’s other victims, he actually lives to tell the tale.
phoenix arrives early to the office, having been in the public library nearby reading a book on reincarnation. he enters the office and promptly has his skull caved into his brain. he does not see his assailant, but when he wakes, theres an oddly dressed girl crying, crouched over his boss’ cold body. he doesn’t think about the drying blood in the back of his head, or how cold mia’s body is (and why he can even tell, considering the fact he has not touched her corpse) or the chapter in the book he’d been reading that talked about quantum immortality— all he thinks of is proving maya fey’s innocence.
as it turns out, being constantly anxious and terrified of mortal peril actually has its perks. maybe the fact he’s a lawyer whose only ever dealt with homicide cases definitely wasn’t benefiting his mental wellbeing either. in any case, its that fear of literally everything and constant feeling of impending doom that makes his body react before his mind does. taser! danger! maya! so, he gets tasered. and it fucking HURTS, but he feels more relieved than frightened as the searing pain shoots through him, because he’d been able to push maya away before von karma got to them both. wasnt a symptom of death by electrocution an overwhelming feeling of helplessness and imminent death? maybe he was going crazy. when he comes back though, its to his head in the lap of a crying spirit medium, so maybe a psychotic break isnt too bad if it means everyone else gets to escape with no damage to their own psyche.
its only after she stops screaming in terror- oh my god, nicks a zombie!! kyahh!!!- and nearly beating him with her bulky magatama necklace, that she tells him what she saw. (“like, there was a sudden bright light and then i realised it was coming from you! but when i tried to touch your glowing skin,” she says it like its the most absurd thing she’d ever seen, which really said something considering the fact she was from a family of people who could channelthe dead “it was HOT! like, japanifornia summer hot! blazing! i was only able to check your pulse after you cooled down a bit…”). maybe its this that makes him less alarmed by the way his skin glowed in the dark of his trashed bedroom, after drinking himself to death following a certain phone call from a terribly sad, newly bossless detective. he doesnt think he can bear the taste alcohol ever again, after that.
maybe the number of times he’s died of blunt force trauma to the head should be a cause for concern, even more so when he wakes up without any of his memories. he’s terrified, and doesnt even knows who he is, until he does, and is able to prove maggey byrde innocent. fun times! he should probably watch out to make sure his next death wasn’t to the head, lest he be as mentally impaired as a number of people liked to say he was… (and he should probably also be concerned by the fact he was already thinking of the next time he’d die, but ah well, blame it on the concussion).
as it turns out, getting whipped to death was not on his list of ways he thought he’d die next, but life liked to mess with him like that, it seemed. still, dragging his delirious self to the bathroom of his office to try and save the infected wounds from killing him wasn’t all that fun, and he’s immediately reminded of his first death, slow and painful, alone and scared of what came next. he feels bad for feeling relieved when maya shows up and screams upon seeing the state he and the bathroom (that’d he’d accidentally trashed when his legs gave out after he opened the door, a number of bottles fallen to the floor beside him) were in. he stops her from calling the police- there was no point, he didn’t have much time left. but when she asks what she could do, he goes quiet. (…just… stay here? i dont- he coughs up a distinctly red shade of spit. maya makes a noise between a choked cry and a whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck. but phoenix was shivering worse now, and hugs himself tigher. i dont want to die alone.) so she stays with him, on the cold bathroom floor, as his labored breathing eventually slows. when he awakens, he finds maya asleep leaning against him, and promises to get her burgers as a thank you.
who knew death by a monkey throwing a giant bronze bust of max galactica at you could happen? at this point, he’s almost glad he was basically immortal, because there was no way in hell he’d allow his autopsy report to say ‘cause of death: monkey manslaughter’! edgeworth would laugh himself to tears if he saw! not that he could see. or cry, because he was dead. and not coming back. damn.
so edgeworth isnt dead! yippee? he thought it was his thing to get reanimated after death, not edgeworths. when he saw him, standing in the middle of the police department, alive and breathing and very much not dead, he nearly started laughing. he must’ve finally gone insane! curse the amount of times he’d died of brain related injuries, not that he knew how many of them there were at this point. he might actually have laughed a bit, because pearls was looking at him like he was losing it (he was) but he couldnt really bring himself to care as he had more pressing issues at hand, like saving his best friend from a crazy serial killer holding her hostage, and punching his other best friend in the face for faking his own death (because really, dying was his thing! not edgeworths!). and if he pulls edgeworth into a hug immediately after, throwing caution in the wind (you only live once, right?), the warmth- a normal, human temperature, unlike his burning hot when he came back from death- is enough to stabilise his harried mind for just a moment, before he has to return to his guilty client and his hopeless situation.
by some crazy turn of events, he actually doesnt die from having boiling hot coffee thrown at his face. it burns, and maya screams when she sees the boils on his face after that first trial with godot, but after throwing a wet towel over his face and putting him in timeout on the sofa for 12-hours, the burns go away as if they were never there. he fell asleep at some point, and after alot of back and forth debate, they eventually came to the conclusion that 1. his body heat rising to burning levels when he dies must have caused his body has to grow immune to heat and 2. since sleep was like a ‘temporary death’, a ‘temporary wound’ would just heal like it did when he died of normal wounds, right? he didn’t want to dwell on it too much, because maya was looking at him like she wanted to test that theory for real, so he quickly changes topics before things got out of hand.
so their theory on the immunity to heat thing was correct! …almost. larry had tried to stop him, but it was fire and he was basically immune to heat, right? nope! his skin burned and boiled but he didn’t die as he tried to run across the burning bridge. even so, nothing hurt more than falling through one of the burnt planks and slamming onto the surface of the freezing cold rushing stream below. luckily the death was near immediate, but unfortunately he came to while in the water still, so he swallowed a sizeable amount of water before paramedics arrived. he hears the doctors find his survival miraculous, despite the scorching hot fever he was now under. he blacks out again, and comes to in the hospital, feeling absolutely terrible.
the horribleness feels familiar though, and when edgeworth walks in, he realises what it must be, when the man presses the back of his hand to his temple and quickly pulls his hand away as if burned. (oh. he thinks, tearing up despite himself. it must be the fever. i’m going to die like this again.) his internal monologue must’ve been external though, because edgeworth balks (‘again?!’). but phoenix was crying in hiccups and sobs, feeling terrible and like he was nine years old again, wishing his mother were there to nurse him back to health like she’d never done before. he faintly hears edgeworth sitting down on his bed and reaches out, gripping the mans waist like it was a lifeline. in a sense, it was. “don’t go.” he whispers, gripping the man tighter like he’d disappear into thin air (again). “please, please don’t go.” in his delirium, he nearly wails in despair when he feels edgeworth move, but he was only moving to readjust himself so he’s lying next to him, their bodies so close that it must burn, but the only sign edgeworth shows that he’s in pain is a wince and the crease of his brow. he allows himself to be cried on, curling a protective arm over phoenix’s burning body. “i- i dont know what’s going on, wright, but i’m not, i’m not going anywhere, okay?” he seems to be attempting exasperation, but it comes out terrified and concerned, but phoenix is fading quickly, so it might just be his waning mind making up things that don’t exist. “i am terrified. your body is life threateningly hot and— wright? wright!”
he comes to with nurses surrounding him, and a distressed edgeworth swearing on his life that that man was dead, his body was seizing and on fire and- and his heart stopped beating! but phoenix couldn’t dwell on it, because the mention of fire immediately brought him back to why he was in the hospital at all. and plus, it gave him the chance to use his best friends sensitive treatment of him afterwards to convince him to play defense attorney, so that was nice. still, he feels like he dies when he finds out dahlia had actually been iris and that godot was actually his dead mentors apparently not dead boyfriend. oh, and he was also a murderer. he also feels like he dies when dahlia- actual, serial killer and dead by execution dahlia, was exorcised from maya’s body. but that had more to do with his soul leaving his body in terror rather than actually dying, so that was a nice change of pace… probably.
later, he’d had to have a conversation with edgeworth to give him an explanation on just what the hell he’d witnessed in that hospital room. although, apparently his re-aliving symptoms must’ve started becoming more dramatic, because miles describes it as his whole body glowing as bright as the sun, and then his eyes opening for a moment to reveal nothing but white, glowing eyeballs with no irises. phoenix has to convince him to still board his flight the day after, that he was okay… probably. maybe not safe, but definitely okay. (still, edgeworth stays the night at his, and they hold eachother close, basking in the shared warmth of two alive bodies in heat equilibrium, listening to eachothers breathing and rhythmic heartbeats, no signs of impending mortality in sight, save for, what did the french call it? la petite morte? most of all, phoenix basks in the promise miles makes to him. “i’m not going anywhere,” he repeats, over and over like he was trying to convince himself as much as he was phoenix. “i’m not going anywhere, i promise.”)
and when he loses his badge, he thinks he really does die, permanent and definitively. he feels far away from his body when the forger is called to the witness stand. feels like a ghost when the council walks out the room and past him, making no eye contact and answering the unanswered question on the tip of his tongue. feels his life crumble to pieces when a blonde man with a pleasent, almost saintly smile gives him the most maddeningly sympathetic look and tells him he is sorry for his loss, as if there really was someone dead. only, the only one dead must’ve been him, because there was no one else there who had just lost their life. he couldn’t even hear himself as he laughed, which turned into sobs, as he excused himself and fleed to his bicycle. not one pedestrian bats an eye at the state he is in, so he must really be a ghost, cycling past speeding cars and large trucks and buses as if it couldn’t kill him, because he wasn’t there, he was already dead. when he reaches his office, freezing and quiet and dreadfully void of any human life, he passes by the window his boss had died at and sees his reflection, unkempt and red faced and badgeless. he wants to scream, but he couldn’t because no one would hear a ghost scream, so instead he just sits down in the spot his mentor had lost her life in, and mourns.
when two weeks later a warm, incredible alive life falls into his hands in the shape of a little girl with a too big tophat and a joy for being alive that he’d lost years ago, well, maybe he is glad that he couldn’t die for real, if only to be able to wake up to that beaming grin as his little girl tries to pull her daddy out of bed because she’d made breakfast, and it only smells burnt because of the magic something she’d added as a special ingredient. he eats it, char and all, because he can’t taste the burnt-ness of it anyway, but he could taste the love and care put into it, and that was more than enough to take his mind away readying himself for his next death. instead, he thinks of his daughter’s next performance at the wonder bar, and their next trip to kurain, and miles’ next visit. for once, he thinks of living.
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marvelfanfics1 · 17 hours ago
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Little Maybank
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requested by anon
Pairing: brother!jj maybank x sister!reader
Warnings: suggestive comments/actions, brief mention of fighting, cursing, reader is a few years younger than JJ, protective!jj
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You and JJ walk side by side towards the entrance of the Pelican Yacht Club, the rest of the pogues waiting by the Twinkie for you both to get some valuable information that one of the waiters there has for a current little mission they're all on right now.
JJ has is hands stuffed into his pockets while you swing your arms back and forth, looking at all the luxurious yachts lined up by the docks.
"You think we'll have a yacht one day, Jay?" You ask sweetly.
"Sure, a big ass one for all of us." He answers with a smile, ruffling your hair a little to which you whine, batting his hand away and trying to fix it again while he chuckles.
JJ can't believe that even with how your guys life situation is he still manages to keep you far away from the harsh reality, always making sure you're not anywhere near Luke whenever he has one of his outbursts or beats him, telling you the bruises are from a fight with a kook.
All the pogues treat you like you're their little sister and protect you like one, never letting you go on their more dangerous missions and shielding you from any harm.
JJ will always see you as his baby sister, you're his responsibility and the only thing he takes seriously in his life, well of course he teases you like every normal brother does but only him, the pogues sometimes too but they know to not go too far.
Your bubbly and overall nice personality is both a blessing and a curse, your want to spread positivity everywhere you go is as admirable as it's frustrating because many people, especially kooks, don't deserve to witness your sweet nature.
Protecting you is JJ's top priority, he wants you to grow up better than he did and offer you a carefree life full of love and fun. He'll be damned if something ever happens to you.
After you both sneaked inside the club, looking for the guy that has information.
JJ finally locks eyes with him and nods his head towards the restrooms, the guy quickly getting the hint and you both walk over to them when JJ turns to face you.
"Stay right here. I'll be back in a minute." He instructs and you nod with a smile, watching him go inside the men's restroom, swaying a bit back and forth on your feet.
While you look around you hope that no one notices that you shouldn't be here, too sensitive for any confrontation no matter the reason.
A group of boys who are standing a few feet away nursing their drinks spot you. "Dude, isn't that little Maybank?
"Shit yeah. Means her dumbass of a brother can't be far. Not to mention they sure as hell aren't supposed to be here." One of them observes, a smirk forming on his face.
Your head snaps back to the restrooms as you see JJ come out again and make his way back to you. "A'ight, mission accomplished. Let's head back to the others."
You nod and you both went on when suddenly someone blocks your path.
"Whoa, not so fast, pogues. Here to steal your next meal huh?" A brunette with a smug expression teases you both.
JJ clenches his jaw, moving you behind him protectively, his hands balling at his sides. "Man, we don't want any trouble."
"Who are you trying to fool here, Maybank? Your poor asses shouldn't even be here."
JJ glares at him but unclenches his fists again when he feels your hands grab onto his bicep, trying to keep himself in check, not wanting you to see him lash out.
He took a deep breath, about to just walk past that douchebag when he hears you yelp suddenly as the guy's friend slapped your ass.
"That little beauty can stay tho." The black haired boy chuckles.
Before you could comprehend what just happened JJ swiftly turns and swings his fist, his knuckles connecting with the guy's jaw who had dared to touch you.
You gasp at that, stumbling back and against the brunette, quickly turning around to face him and without thinking twice you push him over the railing and watch him fall into the water.
Hearing several gasps from the club members and employees around you has you freezing, grappling the fact what you just did when JJ grabs your hand.
"C'mon! We gotta go!" He stresses, pulling you out of your shocked state and you instantly start running, hearing the way JJ laughs. "Oh my god that was crazy!"
Pope slides open the Twinkie's door from inside when he sees you both running and you jump in, your back hitting the wall.
"Bro drive!" JJ shouts at John B and he quickly starts the van as you and your brother keep panting.
"What the hell happened?" Kie asks, looking you both over concerned.
"You guys will never believe it..." JJ breathes heavily, glancing at you with a grin and you blush, a small smile forming on your face. "Our little angel here just pushed a kook into the water."
You're surprised when your friends start to cheer and ask questions excitedly, wanting to know what happened.
You giggle as Kie and Cleo wrap their arms around your neck from each side, their hurried questions overlapping each other.
Pope ruffles your hair just like JJ always does, and you can hear John B laughing behind the wheel, smacking it a few times while Sarah claps her hands.
Your smile stays rooted on your face, feeling happy and safe in your family's presence.
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Taglist
For everything:
@my-river-lilly @pauntedblacknails @fanfictioniseverything @devilslilbabysblog @buckymydarlingangel @hallecarey1 @daybreakwinter @loveshineslikethesky @wandaslittlewhore @vase-of-lilies @white-wolf1940 @simpingbutch @mischiefsemimanaged @alina02 @teddybearsgrr @doozywoozy @angelbabydoll28 @glxwingrxse @lilymurphy03 @veryvaughnny @lokigirlszendaya @youngstarfishdinosaur @little--baby--bear @minideathgoddess @rach2602 @gh0stgurl @flourishandblotts-inc @lovelyy-moonlight @yoruse
@mythixmagic @iris-xoxo-juhu
For JJ:
@chiaraanatra @chimindity @flora-eva
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icarusredwings · 1 day ago
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Silence
In an alternate universe.. Where Wade let Francis live, hoping it'll make him a better person. Hoping.. that by listening to Colossus.. just this one-time ...life wouldn't screw him over...
Chapter 1.
Francis Forever
Tw: Blood, intense codependency, feral behavior, discrimination, PTSD attacks, sleep issues, crying, derealization.
A 900 follower special.
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Something wasn't right.
He picked this up about a week ago. The never leaving feeling that something was wrong.
Sure, Wade left for work trips. It wasn't uncommon. But it's been 8 days. Not a call. Not a voicemail, not a text saying he's okay. He hasn't even shared a stupid tiktok to him since.
Al told him not to worry so much, That Wade can take care of himself. That he has been since he moved in with her. “It's not like he can die.” She had said but something deep within Logan's chest felt flipped, uneasy and heavy. He knew she was just trying to calm him down but with each day that passed he became more restless.
He's tried calling. He's texted. He's messaged him on every social media account he knew of, even emailing him. Nothing. None at all.
It happened about 6 Days ago. When he sat up from their bed in the middle of the night, alone, with a devastating feeling in his gut. Like someone had just told him that all of the love he felt was in danger.
The last time he remembered feeling this way was when he thought his brother had killed his wife.
He's been trying to lay his head back down to sleep but instead he was pacing around the apartment at 3 am like a caged animal, trained to stay within these four walls, mentally somewhere far away.
“Go Take a walk. Because if not, you’re gonna burn a hole in our floor.” She told the man.
The dirty glare (at least, that's what she assumed) made her roll her eyes.
“I'm serious, It's not good for you to be cooped up like this. You've checked the window 17 times within the last hour, Logan.” The way she said his name was soft, the affection of a wise old woman.
“Yeah, sure, like you're going to get your deposit back anyway.” He growls back, as if only hearing the first part. It wasn't like Logan to be rude to Althea. Even when pissed off, so this was odd. She now understands the severity of the situation.
“Look, I'm sure everything is fine and he just forgot to charge his phone. You know how dumb that little psychopath can be. Once he was gone for 3 months and came back just fine.” She mutters to him.
Beginning to feel a snarl raise up in his throat, Logan grunts, shaking his head. He wanted to tell her to shut up. That she didn't understand because she didn't have a husband. That she didn't have anyone that loved her the way he loved Wade and he hasn't felt this worried over someone in decades. But he swallowed that. His mother raised him better… if he didn't have anything kind to say.. not to say it.
“...”
“And take the mutt with you, she's been dying to go to the park.”
About to decline, the dog brought the leash to him, wagging her tail hard from the sheer word “park” alone.
“Fine!....come on mary..”
Even walking the dog down the street, his pace was too quick, her little legs struggling to keep up as he growled, uneasy. He didn't know what to do without him talking to him. Was it always this noisey in the city? Usually Wade would yell over the noise, make jokes about people passing by and holding his hand to keep him grounded. So now what?
He didn't know where to put his hands.
Everyone always says how good he was getting but what did any of that matter if the man who made him better wasn't here to see any of his progress!?
He was trying to become the best version of himself, despite Wade sweetly telling him each night how he was the BEST wolverine because he was HIS wolvie, but he was only the best when with him!! How did he not get that!?
It didn't matter now. None of it did.
Grunting loudly, Logan stops his frustrated fast walk only when he heard Puppins whining and panting, trying hard to keep up. “Sorry..” he tells the dog, picking her up instead, in which she wags her tail, trying to put her tongue in his mouth as a thank you.
“Just because your papa gets to do that doesn't mean you can.” He tells the dog, Who pouts. Why not? She was a deadpool. She knew it. And if her papa got too, why not her?
Logan walks. He walks. And walks. And walks. Until finally something catches his eye. How did he end up here? When were the birds chirping? Since when did the sunlight show through the gaps of tree lines that were lined up on the sidewalk? Oh shit..
It was morning.
‘It's been at least 3 hours’ he thinks, but still he was upset, at least still in New York but found himself somewhere he didn't remember. By the water. Why would he go there? God- How long did he walk? Now he has to walk all the way home. And poor puppins? She didn't even want to come on this stupid trip and- he catches a scent.
“Wade?”
Sniffing more, the smell was off, as if he put on sea salt and air pollution perfume but his excitement clouded his judgment. “Wade!”
Shoving Mary into his flannel, he runs to the end of the street, stopping with a skirt of his boots, nose to the air and has the stance of a hound dog standing on its hind legs to smell for a coon in a tree. The moment he got another whiff, he darted in the other direction- into traffic.
Jumping over (and damaging) the hood, the driver shouted, waving a fist at him. “You damn mutie!! Look what you did to my car!!”
Puppins growled from hearing the word, letting out a few angry yips as Logan kept going, zig zagging through the lanes until he was on the sidewalk again, managing by the skin of his teeth.
Panting, he took deep breaths, huffing as his nose twitched. “Fuck! Where did- There.” He says to himself, the hairs on the back of his neck and arms raising as he catches just a sniff over the hot dog stand next to him.
His eyes widen, a toothy grin coming over him as he sees a lady in red with heavy make up. Now- Don't get him wrong, he didn't mind, but he was curious as to why Wade wouldn't answer him if he's- er- she's right there. “Wade!” He calls, but she still doesn't look.
Jogging up to her, the smell got thicker, but something still wasn't right. He could smell the chemicals of the concealer, the wig glue, the cancer, but this perfume wasn't Wade's. And also… When did Wade menstruate?
“Wade?” Logan borderline whimpered, poking his face in front of her, sniffing, only for her to scream and slap him with her purse. Instinctively, he jolts back, tilting his head, now with very sad eyes.
That wasn't Wade… He should have known better.. What's wrong with him? Since when could he not do something as simple as track down someone he's lived with for an entire two years already?
For a moment it hits him. Tears welling up in his eyes, his fists unclenching, ducking his head… he couldn't smell him.. and he didn't recognize this street. He didn't know where home was. And Wade wasn't here to guide him back…
He missed the way he would have grabbed Him by now, told him not to get lost, and joked that they should get him a collar so people don’t think he's a feral stray.
He missed his stupid jokes.
He missed his ever changing textured hands.
He missed his wretched smell of gun smoke, pizza bagels and inner abscesses.
He missed his annoying laugh.
He missed him more than anything.
There was nobody better to help him in this situation, where his vision became blurry, he was shaking, and his claws itched, wanting to pop.
Dipping into an alley, he put his back against the wall, sinking down as he held Mary close, trying to remember the breathing exercises that Wade had taught him, trying to calm himself as he let Puppins lick the salty tears that came from his panicked eyes.
It took his whole life to find out.. but he needed Wade. He needed him. That little katana waving bastard with the crooked smile and such big brown eyes from years ago. The one he would defend from Vic. He needed him. Those frustrating quips didn't seem so bad anymore.
“B-but you knew from the start it was always going to be us, didn't ya? You fucking asshole…” He whispered, Burying his face into his arms, claws unsheathed and bleeding.
Wade knew Logan would need him. Wade knew it from the start. It's why he was so nice to him. That's why he brought him home. It's why he gave Logan a home. A family. And the luxurious comfort of knowing the fridge would never be empty, and he always would have a warm bed to sleep in.
So how could he leave him alone… again..
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zoomzooml · 3 days ago
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Redesign concepts of Webmaster and Feathers
After a year
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WEBMASTER
My biggest problem with the Webmaster design is how cluttered it seems; there's just a lot going on here. So I tried to calm it down a bit; I took away one pair of legs to make him less cluttered but keep (more or less) original body lenght. And I know that in his episode Jun says “if something has eight legs, she doesn't like it,” refering to spiders, but I think eight limbs works too.
I also played around a bit with his colors and markings. As well as body structure and proportions, noting this dragon's show-off skill - spinning webs.
When he puffs up his “cheeks” just before he spits, you can hear a sticky, mushy sound - you know that something is going on inside. The muscles are moving and pushing something with a sticky, gluey consistency. I would like it to be somewhat repulsive.
When he spits silk in attack it does not come out as big ball of burning web. It's more like net in "V" shape, in form of many separate threads of silk shooted at the same time. Similar to actual spiders, but on the bigger scale. His webs also don't burn; I feel like it's an overkill.
I changed the arrangement of his forelegs slightly. I know it's not quite in line with the style of HTTYD (see Speed Spingers' front limbs) but in his case I think arranging his hands in a similar way to therizinosaurus gives him a more menacing look.
Deadly Spinners are dragons that give a very unpleasant first impression. They are not the most beautiful dragons around (at least not by the standard) and their behavior can be repulsive to some. The type of dragon that people are willing to pin an unfriendly, sometimes unfair patch on more easily than on other dragons - as many people do with spiders or snakes and other similiar animals.
Deadly Spinners don't live in large groups - either small groups or solo. But when they are in a group they have very close bonds and spend a lot of time socializing among themselves.
FEATHERS
She is a challenge to me, not gonna lie. She definitely is the most changed among my redesigns so far. She just seems very basic to me.
The most bothering thing to me about her are those "feathers". Because, Alex in s1ep3 calls these "feathers", as well as Olivia in s5ep2, wiki calls these "feathers-like scales", but they can move and are thick what implies they are more like Furies'/Night Light's head numbs? I absolutely can pass the crowns as feathers, but Queen's horns and holes in her meaty tail were here the last straw to not to
And yes, I made a shitty video because I'm really confused and wanted that confusion express lmao. I hope Tumblr won't take it down.
So idk, I wanted to clarify what the frick those things are and go from there. I had two main ideas - either give her actual feathers or quills similiar to those of Bewilderbeast. When drawning I wasn't sure about either idea but finally decided for the latter one. Feels more HTTYD-like I think? And very flammable feathers don't seem like the best survival choice when almost every other animal around can spit fire.
I reimagine Featherhides as way more nervous and skittish dragons. Changewings were mysterious but usually seemed calm and strategical. Featherhides' nature is more in type of "flee" than "fight" (tho they can get so smoke when needed, they are not defensless or smth). They are very easy to spook and sometimes will flee in panic from something very trival just to return seconds later when they realise there was no danger at all, or are curious of whatever scared them. They often make rapid little movements, much like birds - especially if something catches their eye and they are not sure what it is.
Featherhides also live in large flocks without a complex hierarchy. If they can - they run, if any of them can't - at least some of them also stay behind.
Once Feathers bonds with Alex she would be very protective of her little human.
When Featherhides mimic sounds they do not do weird things with their faces like in the show. It looks much more like like some birds do that. But that's just a sidenote.
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lilacxquartz · 2 days ago
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PRETTY LITTLE TRINKET
harpy shoko ieiri x f!reader
plot: while lost at sea, you find yourself saved by a monster yet unable to leave.
summary: as you recover, you find yourself bonding with a monster but her friends are cautious of your existence — a/n: this is yandere, so it will still feel unsettling at times.
chapter 2 of 5 • < previous chapter • next chapter > main masterlist • ao3
Chapter 2: Danger?
You stared at the bird-like, human-like hybrid that nestled before you with both caution and awe, battling between falling asleep and staying awake at the same time in a conflicting moment. Internally, your instincts begged for you to get away but your heart told you otherwise—claiming that this creature only wanted to help—to give in, to not fear the unknown.
As she woke up next to you, her attitude seemed almost… indifferent towards you, as if dissecting who you were, analysing your very being. It was ever so slightly unsettling, if you were honest but you tried hard to not let it bother you considering the bizarre circumstances otherwise.
Your eyes drifted around her form, taking in the coppery brown feathers that adorned her body with a sleek amber sheen; looking straight ahead into her deep, black eyes that you could have sworn absorbed all hope into exhausted nothingness and yet… there was a flicker of something just beyond what she let on.
Was it hope?
You couldn’t quite yet tell.
Slowly but surely over the last day or so, you worked with her to attempt to communicate that you couldn’t live the same way she could, only for her to share a common tongue with you. It was frustrating, but you had to wonder why she withheld such crucial information from you. There was otherwise the chattering from before, something akin to bird-like warbling and then there was an understanding, albeit with an outdated grasp of what you otherwise knew.
“Fire,” you repeated in an attempt to get her to understand, her initial response to the word was met with flinched retaliation, but as you continued to preach the requirement over and over, she warmed up to it. “I need… fire for warmth, to cook so that I can eat,” and just by looking at your leg, not knowing exactly what was going on beneath the bindings, you likely needed to cauterise the wound lest it got infected, too. You needed fire to do such a thing.
Tilting her head to the side, she then without warning leaned into your personal space with an intrigued sort of intensity. Her breath was warm against the cold air, generating a puff of steam as she spoke, “Fire… can’t happen,” she replied with a soft tone, tracing a path down your jaw with the back of her clawed finger, “you can get better with me.”
“But, but…” you piped up to argue, feeling ever stubborn, “I… humans,” you tried, pointing at yourself to convey understanding, “I need to cook my food and… and… I need warmth, I need to treat my wounds… I…”
Her eyes could only narrow as you listed off your demands for survival, seeming not quite annoyed but once again, perhaps a little apprehensive towards the admission of flames. She tried to help though, addressing one issue at a time, “Your wound?” she referenced first, lowering her hand and drumming a finger along the seaweed that wrapped around it. “It’s healing,” she stated as she unwound the makeshift gauze, revealing that it was looking quite better, almost impossibly so at the rate that had transpired, “it might feel… strange, because of the magic properties, so it tingles.”
You blinked, your brows knitting in slight confusion. “Magic…?” Were you dreaming, after all? Because otherwise, where exactly have you ended up where magic wasn’t just some make-believe concept found in stories?
She seemed to laugh a little at your surprise but nodded either way, her voice sounding assuring, “I can heal. It is my… ability. So you are safe with me.”
“O…kay,” you slowly replied, trying to accept the bizarre turn of events, the entire situation was already unreal, so you tried for now to accept the situation as it was laid out in front of you. “You’ll keep me healthy, right? But.. I still need warmth and the food issue…”
As you trailed off, she addressed the other point, aligning her body so that her form almost cuddled around you, enveloping you within her feathered form, her wings acting like plush blankets. You found yourself settling your back against her chest, finding that she provided a wealth of heat radiating from her being, surging an almost near-searing hotness that immediately stifled any goosebumps, that silenced any shivering.
“Oh…” you warily trailed off, “this… this is nice,” you admitted, settling into her body. In truth, you were still all sorts of terrified despite the comfort otherwise offered to you. You tended to run your mouth when you were nervous, never quite shutting up about what was happening around you, should an event be something you couldn’t understand nor feel safe in. It was a bad habit really, but you supposed that she didn’t see it as such, so this was already a pleasant change from what it was like back at home, where your inquisitive nature was often rather punished instead.
And instead of any conflicting response as you had so feared, this feathered creature didn’t once instruct nor snap at you to be quiet, nor even vaguely suggest it. Instead, she pulled you in tighter, allowing you to feel the full extent of the warmth she was capable of giving you. Although you couldn’t help but feel that there was something darker lurking beyond what she offered—at least when you caught fleeting glimpses of those eyes you couldn’t quite tear away from—no, there was something troubled deep down beyond what she let on, something… dangerous.
You tried your best to decipher the true meaning of what went on beyond that intensive stare but you couldn’t quite catch it. Instead, you just remained huddled tight against her, feeling as her fingers crept towards the seaweed, stroking delicate paths around the bindings until you felt something sharp. Her finger pushed a little too hard in, perhaps on accident, breaking through your tender skin. In response, you seethed out a whining gasp, jolting back in pained retaliation, at last snapping her out of the trance she seemed to be lost within.
“My apologies,” she replied in an almost blank tone before realising the extent of her damage, “I did not mean to…”
You furrowed your brows as you searched for a response, but before you could properly reply, she quickly parted away from you, covering you up in what made up her nest. Twigs, stray feathers, tufts of fur, and dried seaweed weaved over your body, planting her palms flat against your chest as a soft glow emitted from her own channeled healing energy. Slowly, you were lulled into what felt like a tired pull, something that anchored you toward an exhaustive state.
“Sleep,” she whispered, her voice like warm honey dripping smooth against your weary ears, “you will feel better again, and… I’ll be here when you wake up.”
Unable to fight the pull any longer, your eyes fluttered shut, feeling both in danger and yet comforted beyond your wildest comprehension at the same time.
~~~
Shoko ensured that you were secure and concealed within her nest, perfectly camouflaged and warm before she took a step back. She raised her fingernail that she scratched you with to her face, locking onto the remnants of your blood, feeling a surge of guilt sweep through her body.
You were just a human so why did she prolong your visit?
Sighing, she lept up and fluttered her wings with heavy fluttering beats, cruising herself back to the home island that wasn’t too far from the cliff she resided on. Surely, there must have been something edible that grew within the lush greenery that made up the land. Fire wasn’t an option, so perhaps something else would have to work for now. She tried to remember what humans liked, what they seemed to eat in contrast to her raw diet, understanding that you couldn’t eat the same way that she did, as frustrating as it was.
Slowly, she collected what looked to be suitable vegetation, but then she heard the landing whooshing flutter of the only two other beings that occupied the isles, scrambling slightly to hide the foraged contents under a cluster of fern nearby, pushing it back with her feet.
The first one landed first; a silvery bird-like man just like her with a sapphire sheen that reflected through his otherwise frosted feathers, regarding her with those stark crystal blue eyes that she had always found just a little bit unsettling. The other one followed suit, landing with a little less grace than his friend; the rolling gusts of wind generated from such heavy waves that the contents were revealed either way. She watched as he landed to a halt, pushing himself up from his knee to reveal his deep raven form with brooding amethyst eyes that stared right back at her.
“What are you up to?” the contrasting man spoke first in her own language; a complex string of cooing and chirping and whistling alike, his intense blue eyes catching wind of the fruits that gathered near where she stood. “What’s that?” he corrected his question, his voice adopting a playful edge as his curiosity got the better of him.
“It’s…” Shoko began, wondering where to even start.
Before she could continue though, he plucked a fruit from the ground, taking a bite and allowing for his expression to sour at the taste the second he processed it. “Ah,” he coughed, spitting out the contents onto the ground, “you wouldn’t like these, Sho.”
“It’s… not for me, Satoru,” she admitted with an unsure sigh, feeling apprehensive about revealing her findings—about revealing the concept of you.
“Then who is it for?” the darker-feathered man asked, his voice slightly more calculated, maybe even accusing as though sceptical about the company she kept.
“Do you have a new friend, Sho?” Satoru exclaimed with a thrilling buzz in his tone, almost naively so.
“You know we’re the only ones,” the other one replied, silencing his friend’s excitement before turning his sights back to her, “don’t tell me that they’re a…”
“Don’t question it too much Suguru,” Shoko replied, keeping her tone measured. “What I do in my own space isn’t for you to worry about.”
He scoffed a little, eying up the fruits and back to the direction she resided in. “Those pesky things had a wreck a while ago, that ship that littered itself into the seas. Surely you didn’t…?”
“A human?” Satoru interjected, seeming both curious and cautious at the same time. “But they…”
“Destroy,” Suguru completed his sentence for him, “they destroy, Satoru,” he then turned his sights back to Shoko, watching as she contemplated her next actions, his tone coming off as a little accusatory, but in his mind, rightfully so. “You know what those… things are capable of, right Shoko? Do you remember what they did to our home? I just can’t bring myself to understand… why you are looking after one… of… those?”
“I don’t know,” she murmured, “I just feel like there’s something different about this one.”
“Well,” Suguru sighed, “I’ll trust you to be careful,” he said as he gathered the fruits from the ground and gave them back to her one by one, “as long as you promise to return them at some point. You and I both know that they can’t stay here forever. They don’t belong here, after all.”
With that note, he lifted himself off the ground and flew away while Satoru lingered around for a moment longer, his playful demeanour fading away into something more sentimental, something more serious. “You have the best judgment out of all of us, you know? Whatever your decision is, even if Suguru doesn’t like it, will be the correct one, right?”
“Right,” she nodded, watching as he flew away too, leaving her with conflicted emotions as the weight of their words continued to linger in the air, inviting an almost suppressing aura of doubt. However, she too, soon returned to where she was prior, reuniting with you.
She emptied her findings in front of you, letting the contents spill over your lap as you slowly sat up, rubbing the sleep away from your eyes. Shoko stifled a snort as she watched you find something you were familiar with, digging into it with deep-rooted hunger, finding that she quite enjoyed your reactions.
Humans were something of an anomaly to her, maybe even to Satoru. She understood why Suguru was cautious, especially after the incident, but there was something different about you. She was sure of it.
Maybe it was the odd mannerisms or the way you spoke and seemed to fret over every little thing, how you annoyedly plucked out branches and twigs that poked through your clothes, how… perfectly content you were to cosy up to her when she got closer to you.
She watched on with curious intensity as you wiped your mouth, ready to speak.
“Can you… take me somewhere… more familiar?” you asked, trying to find the right words. “When I get better? I can figure my own way back… probably.”
The question however caught her off guard, remembering Suguru’s words about needing to return you. But that much was only when you were better, right? That could be reasonable enough of a condition. Her eyes flicked over to the crusted maroon that clung to the edge of her clawed fingers, adopting a deep, dark idea.
Loneliness had invited selfishness to manifest and now you were here. Ah, what a troubling thought, but… if it meant spending time with you for longer, then…
“Yes,” she replied with a sickly sweet tone, feigning a promise, “when you are ‘better’, then I can help you reconnect.”
Knowing that deep down, she wasn’t about to let you go back.
Not if she could help it.
this is part 3 of lilac’s bite sized yandere nightmares
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honorhearted · 2 days ago
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Rebekah hummed under her breath, not seeming satisfied with their results. “What about this time around, we try another room, rather than the bed again?" she suggested. "Maybe the shower, or your office?” 
Ben smirked. "Call it the teacher in me, but shower sex is dangerous...I'll consider it if the non-slip mat stays on the floor."
God, was it any wonder he was still single? It wasn't exactly sexy to fall into "safety first!" mode, nor was it appealing to be so logical about something that was decidedly all instinct.
Rebekah hesitated. “Or…even here, on the kitchen counter…”
Ben's eyes snapped up to her face. "Unsanitary, but intriguing. Just make sure my arse stays away from the butter dish, and I might be amenable."
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Appearing discomfited, Rebekah said in a rush, “We have to go again at least once tonight and twice tomorrow, so we might as well keep things…interesting?” 
"Three times," Ben echoed, though more to himself than to her. Cheeks pinkening, he rolled his lips inward and nodded, trying not to think too much about her gasps and the feel of her tongue in his mouth. "Yeah, uh...you're right that repetition is key, but the same positions and process aren't. Laying out precisely what we want might actually make this a little less awkward too, because I'll know I have your explicit permission with every touch."
Rebekah nodded. Her hands twisted the pen in between her fingers, and then she blurted, "W-where do you like to be touched? Your weak spots, I mean..."
Ben exhaled, shifting in his seat. "Um...the usual spots, I'd say. The neck and below the belt are always winners, but I guess that's a given with just about every guy." Here, he hesitated, then added, "What you did earlier was really nice, too...when you were kissing along my...ah..." Awkwardly, he gestured to his midriff. "The whole touching everywhere but there angle is always a little maddening."
Leaning toward her, Ben's face grew impossibly hotter. "Is it bad that this is kind of turning me on?" He ducked his head into his hands, laughing self-consciously. "God, I don't know if I can take much more of this, Beks...our list is like a submission to Penthouse." Quickly, he flung up a hand. "Er...not that I've ever read that, of course, but...there's only so much a guy can listen to before he starts getting unraveled. Alas, it would seem all men truly are the same."
Lowering his hands into his lap, Ben clasped them and watched Rebekah's eyes, fully aware of how indecently close they'd become throughout all this. "What about you?" he asked, his voice a low rumble. "Where do you want to be touched?"
He’d agreed to her suggestions with little hesitation, so why did Bekah still feel so tense? It wasn’t as though they hadn’t already done it once. Why was it so awkward to talk about it now? Was she honestly so hopelessly into him that she couldn’t even discuss something that’d already happened between them? 
Maybe it was because their coupling was more of a means to an end. It was for both of them to have a chance at parenthood, not because Ben personally wanted to sleep with her. That was something she didn’t want to have to think about, lest she completely ruin the vibe. For Pete’s sake, maybe she needed another beer…
Busying herself, she scribbled down their current ideas. Under Ben’s name was “Shakespeare,” and “outdoors,” while under hers was “Mirror,” and a capital “M.”
Bekah didn’t feel right writing the entire word out at that moment. As she glanced up cautiously at him, she wondered who was sporting pinker cheeks. 
"That seem like a good enough starting point?" he asked. 
“Hmmm…” 
She wanted to say yes, but staring down at the short, sad list, she knew they should at least try to think of a couple more ideas, but rather than say that out loud, she opted to continue with another suggestion of her own. 
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“What about this time around, we try another room, rather than the bed again? Maybe the shower, or your office?” 
What was the state of his office anyway? Was it even usable? 
“Or…even here, on the kitchen counter…”
The last part had sort of tumbled from her mouth in a slow, last minute thought as she shrugged through an uncertain wince, “We have to go again at least once tonight and twice tomorrow, so we might as well keep things…interesting?” 
Could she be any more awkward? The whole purpose of this conversation was to make things less so!
With a quiet sigh, she asked, "W-where do you like to be touched?" She suddenly felt dreadfully small, "Your weak spots, I mean..."
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dailycass-cain · 2 days ago
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Batgirl #1 feels like a dream. A dream that I always wanted to see but never thought it was possible. This past Wednesday changed that and held a physical copy in my hands.
It's finally time for my thoughts on the issue.
I'll start with the book's only two critiques I have for it. For new fans, this comic is just a gorgeously drawn comic with layers that scratch the surface. You get that instantly on the very first page when Shiva and Cass meet.
You can understand the subtleness. But I can see a new reader going? "I need to know more of this context." That leads to the second critique of the comic: editor's notes.
They could've added much more to the words of the comic. Explain further some of the history.
I mean there is a PERFECTLY minded trade that solves this problem (out April 8th, 2025). But it would've been nice to direct readers to a specific issue of the past. To further enhance the reading experience.
That said...
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This feels like a continuation of Batgirl Vol. 1, but with the knowledge that even after #73 Cass continues to be a bat. There are so many callbacks to Puckett and Gabrych (in a way) along with Tynion, Hill, and Conrad/Cloonan.
I'll give it to writer Tate Brombal he just skips RIGHT to the meat keeping the reader as clueless as Cass is into the story.
We're dragged into this mess like her not knowing the full story save what she sees and knows. Even if she knows Shiva is trying to be better.
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Just that she doesn't want to be dragged into this mess. Not only that, Shiva unnerves Cass in a way given they are two sides of the same coin (both in blood and choices).
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Not only that, but the moment Cass meets her mom, she murders someone (a guard who is violent and earned the violent end). It's probably right there Cass decided to check out afraid of this being a relapse of "old ways".
This, in a way, feels like Brombal addressing the circle the two characters have been in since 2020 at the start of this issue. There is just this uneasy tension, which ends when the series' antagonists show up.
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You get that "the Unburied." Ninjas are cut from the cloth of Frank Miller and Peter Laird/Kevin Eastman. You get those Hand/Foot Clan vibes from them.
As for how they are so dangerous. Well, again the Laird/Eastman method of ninjas. They just keep coming. Waves and waves. They know their target. Eventually, no matter how skilled one is, one wave is going to get lucky and overwhelm the target.
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What makes them deadly is that they keep coming until their targets are wiped out. Therein lies the reason Cass stays (both times): She knows her mom could be right.
They could target everyone she loves, and some of the family could be endangered due to that unknown factor.
That is the core of Cass, and we get our "character introduction" of who Cass is. She was raised to be a weapon but chose to be a hero. She was an orphan by choice (okay a nice nod to THAT codename). That her parent is Batman (but aw not Babs). Choosing to protect.
That's where the comic just goes to another level thanks to the art by Takeshi Miyazawa and colors by Mike Spicer. Where each impact and panel just POP. Not to mention the "mood" with the colors Spicer does here.
Interestingly, the only impact we get is via Shiva's reactions to Cass fighting. Punching her, but also them fighting together against the Unburied.
The things she's seen of her mom. The death duel. The death. The violence. Being evil. That's what Cass has known (and in a way the murder mom clichés). But we see throughout the shades of Shiva that are more than that.
I think the points where we get little callbacks to the Question yet Cass sasses her mom with "Lying." Again, Cass knows that Shiva loves fighting. Because deep down she too loves this. But also the "lying" Cass means to Shiva. And again we get her saying what she's seen in the past.
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And I'm kind of surprised we see the Cult of Shiva again (along with the survivor who Steph fought in #26). Again someone we haven't seen in well SO LONG. And well, say goodbye to this issue (farewell to Shiva's #2 fan).
I'm really curious to where this goes. Obviously, we're going to get answers. But the questions raised this issue do intrigue me. Not to mention Cass/Shiva teaming up. And that alone is a highlight into itself.
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I just wonder WHO is behind the Unburied? Because you know it's someone. Question is it someone with a connection to BOTH Cass and Shiva? Or is it truly sins of the Mother dropped on the daughter?
If they're targeting people associated with Shiva? Does it mean we're getting the first meeting between Richard Dragon and Cass? To showcase another layer of Shiva to Cass that's never been explored? Or Ben Turner aka Bronze Tiger? Curious questions indeed.
Regardless Brombal really has a DEEP understanding for both characters.
There's just so much dialogue and just reactions that FEELS just entrenched from Batgirl Vol. 1. That this feels like a writer going FULL ON with no restrictions with Cass.
Not only that but artist and colorist just deliver that same method. Keeping what was in Vol. 1 here present as well
I felt for them again for so many times in these many years- at home.
I felt for them again for so many times in these many years- at home. This comic really does feel like a celebration of the character. Something to honor the anniversary and everything that has come before it. Be it Batgirl Vol. 1 & 2, Tec, Batman & the Outsiders, Spirit World, and Batgirls.
That again why the emotions hit akin to Shadow of the Batgirl. Being a fan of the character so long. Being around for this ride. This hits on another level as well.
And after a week of darkness, this comic (along with another) brought some much-needed light to my world.
So to any Cass fan hesitant in the past due to well "DC being DC", let me just say that this is the one. The one fans have been dreaming of. Hoping. This #1 delivers SO much. Maybe, it shows to others why this character just resonates with so many.
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Note
Hey, just today I've decided to stop seeing my parents and siblings for an indeterminate amount of time, and to possibly even break off all contact if it has to come to that. They refuse to acknowledge me as the person i really am and I can't keep sacrificing my mental health and me up for that. Will you please pray for me? And if it's not too much to ask, do you perhaps have a bible passage to strengthen me during this time? I still want to stay close to God, because I know the way God created me was correct and good. Thank you
~Micha (they/them)
Hi Micha,
What a difficult, courageous thing you've done. I will absolutely hold you in my prayers; I pray you will find relief in having finally made the hard decision, and continue to live into flourishing.
The Bible story that comes to my mind is a strange one, only told by Mark (3:20-35):
Very early in Jesus's ministry, as he gathers followers and gains attention, his family is apparently very concerned.
Perhaps they know this path puts him in danger; or maybe they just worry about his "lifestyle" reflecting badly on them. Either way, they know they have to "take control of him;" after all, he's clearly "out of his mind" (v. 21).
So his mother and siblings hurry to a house where Jesus is teaching, but it's packed so full they can't get inside. So they send a messenger in and also call for him from outside (vv. 31-32). I can just imagine their calls: "Please honey, this isn't like you! Who influenced you to go this way?" "You're the man of the house, you can't just abandon us to hang out with queer friends and say edgy things!" "What will the neighbors say?"
But when Jesus is told his family is out there calling to him, he answers, “Who is my mother? Who are my siblings?” Looking around at those seated around him in a circle, he said, “Look, here are my mother and my brothers. Whoever does God’s will is my brother, sister, and mother.”
We know Jesus's love for his mother. I am sure he loved his whole family with the infinite depth of God. Yet he risks losing them, says hard words he know will probably hurt, because if they make him choose between them and living out God's will, he has to choose God's will.
We don't know whether he ever reconciled with his siblings; they don't appear anywhere else in the Gospels. Maybe this was their last encounter, not even face-to-face. Maybe his brothers could not abide his abnormal lifestyle and chose to cut him out of their lives.
But we do know Jesus reconciles with Mary, the mother who proclaimed divine revolution as a newly pregnant teen (Luke 1:46-55) — yet who seems to waver now, either out of fear for her son or failing to understand that what he's doing now is the revolution.
But I like to imagine when Mary hears what Jesus says about family, the implication that she is only mother to him if she continues to help him in living God's will, she immediately corrects course. She will keep supporting him, even when she doesn't fully understand.
Sure enough, Mary supports him all the way to the cross, all the way to the grave. They are present for each other, comforting each other through the worst moment of both their lives.
[Jesus even fuses his biological family and his found family together from the cross. Now that he will no longer be the "man" in Mary's life who offers her legal and social protection; and now that he won't be there to love on his Beloved, he offers John to Mary, Mary to John. "Woman, here is your son. John, here is your mother!" (John 19:25-27)
Is that queer or what?? As his final act on this side of the tomb, Jesus essentially makes his mother and lover mother-in-law and son-in-law! ...I can't not think of the AIDS crisis, where dying partners would pass their beloved's care over to surviving loved ones.]
___
Jesus always prioritized chosen family over biological family. A biological relative can be part of your chosen family, but belonging to that family is no more automatic for them than for anyone else.
Jesus shows us that when family fails to support us in doing God's will — in this case, taking up the invitation to co-create yourself with God, to commit your own small rebellion against the status quo, to prophecy resurrection as embracing your queerness brings you to new life — they cease to be family in the way that matters most.
That rupture can be mended at any point, if and when those who did harm seek to make amends — and receive consent to do so. Whether or not reconciliation ever takes place, we seek out others who will celebrate us and support us in our efforts to glorify God with our lives.
___
God of love, Hold Micha close in this time of loss and and changed relationships. Comfort them in the knowledge that this rupture is no fault of theirs, but caused by parents and siblings refusing to embrace all they are, and failing imagine a fuller Kin(g)dom, a vaster love, a more colorful Image of God.
Spirit of courage and wisdom, guide Micah towards those who will delight in all that they are. Help them build a family founded on love, equity, and mutual support. Wherever their journey takes them, make your unconditional love, your unwavering presence known to them.
Amen.
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