#but it’s exciting to move it aside for a bike

[foldingfittedsheets]

My dad was looking to rehome his old electric bike and I stopped by to try it out. It’s pretty tall but I think that’s what you’re supposed to get for good pedaling.

But spoiler alert. Electric bikes are just. Fun.

My chronic fatigue has meant a lot less outside time overall and a limit on fun activities that are too vigorous. But I’m genuinely like. This is so accessible and makes outdoor stuff more achievable and it was just so exciting to be riding that I fully giggled aloud.

[hoshifighting]

Racer!Reader x Racer!Mingyu 一 Rivals to Lovers

Synospsis: Racer!Mingyu, the new kid, is determined to beat you in the college underground race. Does he have the guts to defeat you, his senior, the reigning queen of the racing scene? Before the race starts, a photo of your boyfriend cheating on you is spread to the students. When you look up from your phone, there's Mingyu with his piercing eyes. [...]

“Hmm, all upset, just the way I wanted,” Mingyu teased, leaning against the doorframe.

WC: 8k

Warnings: Cheating, illegal racing, rumors, smut, angst, penetrative sex, oral (f. receiving), fingering (f. receiving), squirt, clit stimulation, g'spot stimulation, body fluids (cum), kinda of rage make out?, chocking, spanking, dirty talk, sex pic and etc.

Mingyu. A name that had once been just a murmur in the shadows of the racing world is now on everyone's lips. This new kid, this prodigy, decided to go against the grain, to take on the best and make a name for himself. 

And somehow, you're the one he's set his sights on. The competition is obvious, like the electricity in the air before a storm, and the entire college is buzzed with bets. It's impossible to ignore the excitement at the thought of the race tonight. It's been too long since you've felt this alive.

The smell of burnt rubber and gasoline is already in your nose, a scent that brings back a flood of memories. The first time you felt the wind rush past you on two wheels, the rush of adrenaline when you crossed the finish line ahead of the pack. 

The races had been your escape, your way to prove to the world that you were more than just another face in the crowd. 

And now, as you lace up your boots and slip into your worn-in leather jacket, you know that this race will be different. It's not just about the thrill anymore. It's about pride, about maintaining your title, about showing Mingyu that he's bitten off more than he can chew.

The stakes are higher than ever before. You can feel it in the way Mark's eyes darken every time he looks at you, in the way he clenches his fists when Mingyu's name is mentioned.

As you swing your leg over your bike and rev the engine, you push those thoughts aside. Tonight, there's only one thing that matters: the race, the roar of the engines, and the taste of victory.

Mingyu's eyes sparkle inside his helmet, the gleaming visor reflecting the neon lights of the college parking lot that's been transformed into a makeshift race track. He's young, fearless, and he's got something to prove. 

You've watched him from afar, studied his technique, his daring moves that have earned him the title of 'the rookie to watch'. He's good, really good, but he's never raced against someone like you. You're the old war-horse in this game, a veteran who's seen it all and done it all. 

And now, the moment has arrived.

The girl in the quadriculed flag raises it high, her arm muscles taut with excitement. You and Mingyu lock eyes for a brief second, a silent promise of a fierce battle to come. And then, with a nod from her, you both speed off into the night. Your bike responds to your touch like a well-trained steed, the engine purring as you lean into the first turn.

But this is your turf, and you're not about to let some newcomer take your crown without a fight.

As the race extends, the wind whips through your hair, and the roar of the engines fills your ears. The world around you is a blur of lights and shadows, the only thing clear being the track ahead and the figure of Mingyu on your tail. 

You push harder, feeling the bike protest under your command, but she holds steady. You're the lead, with Mingyu playing the role of the eager suitor, eager to overtake. You can't help but smile beneath your helmet. It's been so long since someone's made you feel this alive. The thrill of the chase is intoxicating, and you're going to enjoy every second of it.

As you cross the finish line, you pull a dramatic wheelie, the tires screeching and smoking against the asphalt. You circle around, revving the engine, feeling the power beneath you, and as you come to a stop, Mingyu pulls up beside you. 

You both remove your helmets, and the chilly night air kisses your sweat-drenched skin. His eyes are on you, focused and intense, drinking in the sight of you. Your hair is a wild mess around your face, the wind from the race playing with it like it's alive.

You swing your leg over the bike, the leather of your pants hugging your thighs tightly. You stand there, arms crossed over your chest, looking at him. He's tall, with a muscular build that's clear even through his bulky racing gear. His face is a mask of determination, and there's something about the way he carries himself that makes you want to knock him down a peg.

"So, what's your name, kid?" you ask, your voice carrying over the din of the engines.

Mingyu's face cracks into a smirk, and he extends his hand towards you. "Mingyu. Kim Mingyu," he says, his voice deep and sure. But you don't take the bait. You keep your arms crossed, your eyes locked on his.

His smirk falters a little when you ignore his outstretched hand, and he slowly lowers it. 

The crowd around you goes quiet, watching this silent exchange like it's a scene from a movie. They know the history, the tension, and the unspoken challenge that's just been laid down.

"Well, you must know me," you say, the leather jacket creaks as you tighten your grip. 

"I know of you," he says, his language tinged with a hint of an accent. "But I'm not here to bow down to reputations. I'm here to make my own." You can't help but respect that.

The crowd around you is hushed, waiting for the next move. Mark is there, his eyes on you, a silent question in his gaze. You give him a nod, reassuring him that you're okay, that you're in control.

 The rivalry between you and Mingyu has only just started, and it's going to be one hell of a race.

Mark storms over, eyes flashing with anger. "What the hell are you two talking about for so long?" His voice cuts through the cheers of the crowd, drawing their attention. You feel the tension between him and Mingyu, like a string pulled taut, ready to snap.

Mingyu just watches him with that sly grin, clearly enjoying the show. His gaze flickers over you, lingering on your leather pants, and you feel a shiver of annoyance and something else you can't quite name.

"Hey, Mark," you say, trying to keep your tone light, but there's an edge to it. "Calm down. We were just talking."

"Talking? That's what you're calling it?" Mark's voice is loud, drawing even more eyes to your little drama. He turns to Mingyu, his face red. "And what are you looking at?"

You roll your eyes, the frustration bubbling up inside you. "Mark, walk."

He stares at you, eyes wide in disbelief. "What?"

"Yeah, walk," you repeat, your voice firm. "Just go cool off."

For a moment, it looks like he might argue, but then he glances at Mingyu, who’s still smirking, clearly enjoying the spectacle. With a huff, Mark turns on his heel and stalks off, the crowd parting to let him through.

Mingyu chuckles, a low sound that only you can hear. "What an obedient boyfriend you have."

You shoot him a look, half warning, half curiosity. "Don't push your luck, Mingyu."

He raises his hands in mock surrender, the grin never leaving his face. "Just calling it like I see it. But seriously," his tone shifts, becoming more sincere, "you were amazing out there."

"Thanks," you say, the word coming out more curt than you intended. You take a deep breath, trying to shake off the lingering tension from Mark's outburst. "So, why did you want to race me, really?"

Mingyu’s expression becomes thoughtful, the cocky façade slipping just a little. "Because I wanted to see if the rumors were true. And now, I know they are."

You can't help but smile at that, feeling a rush of pride. "Well, you gave me a good run for my money."

"Next time," he says, his voice low and filled with promise, "I'll be the one crossing the finish line first."

"We'll see about that," you reply, walking out with your motorcycle by your side, glancing at him over your shoulder. 

[...]

Mingyu, the new kid, had something different, something that pushed your limits in a way no other rival had before. It was exhilarating, but also stressful. And your boyfriend’s incessant comments about Mingyu didn’t help.

Every time he brought up how Mingyu looked at you, how rude he was, how he thought he was the most incredible thing, you rolled your eyes. Mark’s jealousy was nothing new, but you’d never seen him so uncomfortable around someone before.

For the past month, you’d heard from other students that Mingyu had been spreading rumors about how he was going to win this race, no matter what. It was irritating, but also a challenge you couldn’t ignore.

As you were heading to your P.E. class, you saw Mingyu and his friend walking down the hallway. He spotted you immediately, a grin spreading across his face.

"Look who's here, Y/N... without the leather jacket?" His eyes roved over your tight gymnastic clothing, clearly enjoying the sight.

You smiled around the scrunchie you held between your teeth as you tidied up your hair, then pulled it free to tie it up. "Look who’s here, Mingyu... still talking big?" you teased back, not missing a beat.

He laughed, a rich sound that echoed down the hall. "Only because I’ve got the skills to back it up."

"Oh, really?" you said, raising an eyebrow. "All I’ve seen so far is a lot of talk."

"Maybe you just haven’t been paying close enough attention," he replied, leaning casually against the lockers. "I’ll make sure to give you a front-row seat next time."

You finished tying your hair and gave him a mock look of concern. "I’d hate to see you disappoint all those fans you’ve been bragging to."

He smirked, undeterred. "Don’t worry, I’ve got this covered. You might want to start thinking about a new title because that crown is coming my way."

"Big words for someone who hasn't beaten me yet," you shot back, stepping closer, your confidence unwavering.

"We'll see about that," he said, his voice low and filled with promise. His eyes held yours for a moment longer, the air between you crackling with tension.

Mingyu doesn't look the least bit afraid of you, of your reputation, of what you can do on this track. He's bold, maybe even a little cocky, and you can't decide if you like it or if it just makes you want to wipe that smug look off his face. 

You've always been the one everyone looks up to, the one they whisper about in the halls. But now, there's someone new, someone who doesn't seem to know his place. And that's what makes him so intriguing.

You know Mingyu will be back, and he'll be better next time. And you can tell your boyfriend, Mark, is not happy about this new rivalry一about the way Mingyu makes you feel alive again.

"You've got to get your head out of the clouds, Y/N," Mark says as you look to the ceiling, "This isn't just a game anymore."

You pull back, looking up at him. "What do you mean?"

"Mingyu," he says, his voice tight with anger, "he's different. He's not like the others."

You roll your eyes, trying to play it off. "He's just a freshman with a fast bike," you say.

"He's been watching you," Mark says, his eyes searching yours, "studying you. He's got a vendetta, and I don't like it."

You swallow hard, pushing the thought away. You can't let Mingyu get under your skin like this. "I've got this," you reply, trying to sound more confident than you feel.

But Mark's not convinced. He's noticed the way your mind has been elsewhere, the way you've been pushing him away. The way you've been turning down his advances, lost in thought about the new kid on the block. He's been frustrated for a few weeks, trying to get you to focus on anything other than the race. 

As the days pass, the tension between you and Mark grows thicker. He tries to initiate sex, but your mind is always elsewhere, replaying the race, thinking about Mingyu's next move. You know you're hurting him, but you can't seem to stop.

 The thought of Mingyu, of the way he looked at you, of the way he talked about winning, it's like a drug. And you're hooked.

The next day, you're in the garage, wrench in hand, making some final adjustments to your bike. You've always been meticulous, but with Mingyu on your mind, you're even more so. You can't have anything going wrong on your bike when you face him again.

The door to the garage opens, and you look up, expecting it to be Mark, but instead, it's Mingyu. He struts in, his leather jacket and bike helmet hanging casually from his hand.

"Hey, Y/N," he says, a smug smile playing on his lips. "I see you're still playing with your toy."

You roll your eyes, not bothering to hide your annoyance. "What do you want?" you ask, not looking up from your work.

"Just thought I'd come by and say congrats," he says, leaning against the workbench. "You put on a good show last night."

You raced a senior from your class last night. You won despite the slippery concrete caused by the rain. Again.

You slam the wrench down, the sound echoing in the empty garage. "Thanks, but I'm not looking for your approval," you reply, your voice icy.

Mingyu laughs, a sound that grates on your nerves. "You don't have to be so defensive," he says, his eyes scanning the garage, "I just wanted to talk shop, maybe pick up some tips from the queen herself."

You stand up, wiping your hands on your greasy rag. "What makes you think I'd share anything with you?"

He shrugs, his smile never wavering. "Call it a peace offering," he says, holding out his hand. "Truce?"

You stare at his hand for a moment, weighing your options. You know you need to keep your enemies closer, especially one as talented as Mingyu. You take his hand, giving it a firm shake. "Fine," you say, "but don't get any ideas."

"Oh, I have plenty of ideas," he says, his eyes glinting with mischief, "but I'll save them for the track."

You can't help but laugh, despite yourself. He's got nerve, you'll give him that. You spend the next hour talking bikes and racing strategies, and for the first time since the race, you feel like you're not just a competitor but a fellow enthusiast. It's strange.

As Mingyu leaves, you can't help but feel a blend of emotions. There's the excitement of the challenge he represents, the thrill of the rivalry that's been ignited. But there's also a nagging doubt, a fear that maybe Mark is right. 

Maybe Mingyu isn't just a racer looking to make a name for himself. Maybe he's got something more planned, something that could threaten not just your title but your relationship. 

You shake the thought off, telling yourself you're just being paranoid. After all, it's just a race, right?

[...]

The sun is setting, casting a warm orange glow over the makeshift circuit that’s been built for tonight's race. You take a long sip of your Gatorade, savoring the cool taste as you mentally prepare yourself for the competition. The grandstand is buzzing with energy, students excitedly chattering about the upcoming event.

As you sit there, focusing on your breathing, Mingyu appears and casually sits down next to you. You chuckle, unable to help yourself. "Are you following me, kid?"

He rolls his eyes, a familiar gesture by now. "I’m not a kid."

"But I’m your senior," you counter, grinning at the way his face sours. He’s always so easy to tease. "What did you plan?"

"Huh?" He seems genuinely confused, his attention now fully on you.

You smirk, leaning back a bit. "What do you have up your sleeve, Mingyu? Some oil on the floor, a pin in my tire...?"

He laughs, shaking his head. "I don’t need tricks to beat you."

"Good," you say, your voice dropping slightly, more serious now. "Because neither do I."

Before the conversation can go any further, your boyfriend, Mark, appears. "What’s he doing here?" he asks, his tone accusatory.

"Just talking," you reply, trying to keep your cool.

"Talking, huh?" Mark scoffs. "Seems like he’s always around, doesn’t it? You’d think he’s got nothing better to do."

"I think you’re overreacting." You breath tired. 

Mark's eyes narrow. "Just remember who’s waiting for you at the finish line."

Mingyu’s jaw tightens at this, his posture stiffening. He looks like he’s holding back something, a secret or a truth he’s not ready to share.

You glance at Mingyu, noticing the shift in his conduct. "What’s that look for?" you ask him, curious despite yourself.

He shakes his head, the tension in his body evident. "Nothing. Just focus on the race."

You button your jacket, feeling the familiar weight of the leather settle around your shoulders. Checking your shoelaces, you make sure they’re tight, ready for the race ahead. The buzz of your phone breaks the moment, a single notification lighting up the screen. You glance around, noticing other students doing the same, pulling their phones from their pockets.

It’s odd, almost synchronized.

The feeling in your gut is like a rock, weighing you down, making it harder to breathe. You glance around, noticing the smirks and knowing looks from the other racers, the whispers that seem to carry on the wind. 

You click on it, and your heart sinks like a stone. It's a picture of Mark, your Mark, kissing a girl. A girl with auburn hair and a laugh that's nothing like yours. And he's wearing the shirt you gave him just this week, the one with the funny racing pun on the back. The same shirt he wore to bed last night, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

You stand there, frozen, as the world carries on around you. The cheers of the crowd, the roar of the bikes—it’s all just background noise now. You look up and see everyone watching you, their expressions a combination of pity and shock. They all know now. They've all seen it.

And as your eyes meet Mingyu's, you realize that he knows too. There's something in his gaze, a glint of satisfaction that makes your blood boil. Did he do this? Did he send this to you? The thought is like a knife twisting in your gut, but you can’t be sure.

With trembling hands, you slip the phone back into your pocket, trying to compose yourself. You don’t want to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing you fall apart. But as you button your jacket and tighten the laces of your boots, you can’t help but feel like you’re tying up the loose ends of your life. 

Everything’s changed in the span of a single message. Your heart is racing, but it’s not from the thrill of the chase anymore. It stems from the agony of disloyalty and the rage at being played for a fool.

And as you turn to face Mark, who’s pushing his way through the crowd, his eyes searching for yours, you know that the real race has only just begun.

Your breath comes in shudders as you hop on your bike, putting on your helmet. You’ve give all the signs that you are going to race tonight. The crowd is abuzz with anticipation, their eyes locked on you. 

You roll the bike's accelerator, the roar calling for attention so the race can start. The flag girl gulps, her nervousness evident, and you look over your shoulder to see Mingyu approaching.

The girl stretches the flag, and you brace yourself. The lights go out, and suddenly, you're off, the wind in your hair, the roar of the engines filling your ears. Mingyu is right beside you. You can feel the bike responding to your every move, the tires gripping the asphalt like a vice. 

Inside your helmet, your breathing is loud and ragged, a stark reminder of the adrenaline and anger coursing through you.

As you race, your thoughts race too. Mingyu planned everything. He sat by your side to watch you unravel from Mark's jealous crisis, and then those messages minutes before the race start—meant to destabilize you. It’s like a puzzle clicking into place, each piece revealing the depth of his strategy.

The bike protests but holds steady as you apply more pressure. The track is a blur, but your focus is razor-sharp. Mingyu is still there, matching your speed, but you’re not going to let him win.

You replay the moment when you first saw the message, the image of Mark kissing another girl. It stings, but it also sets you aflame. How dare he think he can break you? How dare he underestimate you? You’re not just racing against Mingyu; you’re racing against the doubts and whispers.

Mingyu pulls ahead slightly, his bike edging past yours. You grit your teeth, leaning forward to reduce drag, pushing your bike to its limits. The sound of the engines is loud, the wind whipping past you. 

You glance at Mingyu. He thinks he won, that his plan worked. But he doesn’t know you. 

You see the final stretch approaching, the finish line within sight. You dig deep, finding that last reserve of strength. You and Mingyu are neck and neck, the crowd’s cheers blending into a single roar. The world narrows to just this moment, just this race.

As you cross the finish line, you throw all your weight into one last burst of speed. You cross the line a split second before Mingyu, the crowd exploding into cheers.

You slow down, the realization of your win sinking in. You did it. Despite everything, you did it. But still, there is no taste of victory in your mouth.

The cheers fade as you lean forward, gripping the handlebars, and ride your bike away from the circuit, leaving a cloud of dust behind you. The streets blur past you, seeking an escape from everything. Your dorm or campus are the last place you want to be tonight.

After what feels like hours, you spot a cheap motel by the roadside. Its flickering neon sign is a welcome sight, a promise of anonymity, and a place to rest. You pull in, park your bike and walk to the reception. The clerk barely looks up as you hand over cash for the night. Key in hand, you head to your room.

The room is small and poorly illuminated, but it’s a refuge from the chaos of the night. You lay on the bed, the springs creaking under you, and pull out your phone. The screen is still lit with notifications, but you don’t want to see any of them. Whether it was Mingyu or someone else who shared those photos, you don’t care. Not tonight.

[...]

The weekend drags by, each minute feeling like an eternity. You don’t go to class, don’t leave your dorm except to grab food from the vending machine, because, you can’t face the pity in your friends’ eyes.

You clean obsessively, organizing your bookshelf, scrubbing the floors, folding clothes into neat piles. It’s a futile attempt to regain some semblance of order in your life. It feels like you’re erasing him from your life, one item at a time.

The notifications on your phone keep popping up, your friends and classmates checking in, asking if you’re okay. You manage to reply with short, curt responses. "Yeah," you type, "Just need some space." The lie feels heavy on your fingertips, but it’s easier than explaining the tornado of emotions inside you.

As the day stretches on, you start to feel a little more in control. You’re not going to let this beat you. You’re not going to let Mark or Mingyu ruin what you’ve built. 

So you sit there, in the quiet of your room, and you start to plan. You’re going to show up to class, to the next race, with your head held high. You’re going to leave the drama behind and focus on what you do best—race.

On Thursday, you walk into class, a box in your arms. The whispers start as soon as you enter the room, the eyes are on you like a spotlight. You find Mark’s usual seat and drop the box in front of it, the thud echoing in the stunned silence.

The box, with his things.

You don’t wait for his reaction. You don’t need to. You turn and walk out, leaving the whispers and the weight of his backstabbing behind.

At lunch, you sit with your friends, the same table you’ve shared since freshman year. They all look at you, their eyes filled with concern. "You okay?" one of them asks, tentatively.

You nod, trying to put on a brave face. "Yeah," you say, your voice stronger than you feel, "I just needed some time to sort things out."

They all nod, understanding without needing the details. They know the score, they know what happened at the race. They know about the picture, the rumors, the cheating.

"You've cried enough," your best friend says, her voice firm but gentle, "It's like that bruise on your knee from when you were seven. It hurt like hell, but it's healing now."

You manage a small smile at the memory. It’s true. You’ve shed enough tears over Mark to fill an ocean. But here you are, breathing, standing, moving forward.

"Let’s talk about something else," you say, changing the subject. "What's new with all of you?"

They exchange glances, clearly surprised by your sudden shift in tone, but they follow your lead. They talk about their classes, their weekends, their plans for spring break. You listen, really listen, letting their words wash over you like a balm to your soul.

"Oh, and apparently none of Mark’s friends want to talk to him," someone says, almost as an afterthought. "They had no idea."

"Good," you say. "He’s not worth their time either."

Your friends nod, respecting your wishes to not delve into the drama further. You don’t need their pity or their empathy. You just need them to be there, to be the rock that grounds you.

The bell rings, signaling the end of lunch, and you all stand up, collecting your trash. "Thanks, guys," you say, your voice genuine.

"For what?" one of them asks.

"For not treating me like I’m made of glass." you reply, smiling.

They laugh, you know they’re worried, but you also know they trust you to handle this. You’re the same person you were before the race. You’re strong.

The sadness has morphed into something else, anger simmers just under the surface, a slow burn that’s been building since that message. You’re not just mad at Mark, but at Mingyu too. You don’t know his role in this, but you can feel his influence, the way he’s been poking and prodding, trying to get under your skin.

And now, it’s like a game of chess, and you’re the pawn in the middle of the board. You can’t help but wonder if he’s been playing you from the start. If all those smirks and smug looks were just part of his plan to take you down.

The bell rings, and you grab your bag, slinging it over your shoulder. As you turn to leave, you feel a hand wrap around your arm. You turn, ready to snap, and find yourself face-to-face with Mingyu. You scoff, rolling your eyes.

“Come on, don’t be grumpy. Running away from me, princess?” he says, a sulky look on his face.

You remember avoiding both Mingyu and Mark all day, doing everything to keep your distance. You start to leave, but he holds onto your arm again, making you huff in frustration.

“You should thank me, don’t you think?” he says, his tone teasing.

You frown. “What do you mean?”

Mingyu smirks. “First, I let you win last Saturday,” he says, lying through his teeth. You remember how he was right on your tail during the race, clearly giving it his all.

“And I got you rid of that asshole,” he adds.

You cross your arms, glaring at him. “So, you’re admitting you orchestrated this whole thing, huh?”

He shrugs nonchalantly. “Well, I warned him it would happen.”

“He knew?” you ask, your voice rising in disbelief.

Mingyu tilts his head slightly, like he’s stating the obvious. “Of course he knew. Y/N, he was cheating on you for a whole semester. At the first freshman party I went to, I saw him with Sayla. She’s from my class.”

“What?” you nearly shout, drawing the attention of nearby students. Mingyu gives you an exasperated look, like it’s common knowledge.

You grab his arm and drag him around campus, heading for the grandstand where you can talk in private. Once there, you turn to him, your eyes blazing with anger.

“I saw the photo, and I know it’s real. But Mingyu, if you’re lying about this, I swear I will fucking kill you.”

He shakes his head, his expression serious. “Why would I lie to you? If I need to tell you something, I’ll say it to your face.”

“Tell me from the beginning,” you demand, crossing your arms.

He rolls his eyes but starts talking. “Well, it was my first party here, a freshman party. I needed to go to the bathroom, and there they were, making out.”

You make a disgusted face, which seems to amuse him. “But in the photo, they weren’t in a bathroom,” you point out.

“Yeah, it happened plenty of times. When I found out he was your boyfriend, I went to a frat party and took that photo,” Mingyu explains.

“That one?” you ask, referring to the incriminating photo.

Mingyu nods. “Yeah, that one. He saw the photo and came to have it out with me. I might have told him that if he didn’t tell you, I would, and that I would love to take care of his girlfriend.”

You scoff. “So that’s why he was so sick-jealous of me?”

Mingyu closes his eyes and nods like it’s the most normal thing in the world. You curse under your breath, feeling the weight of betrayal all over again. “This motherf—”

You stop, looking at Mingyu, who’s watching you with a confused expression. “What do you mean by ‘take care of his girlfriend’?”

Mingyu smirks. “I was interested in you. But when I found out you were dating, I backed off. When I saw your boyfriend slacking, I needed to make it clear to Mark that I was going to reach out to you somehow.”

You narrow your eyes at him, the audacity of it all making your blood boil. “So, you’ve been planning this from the start?”

“Not exactly,” Mingyu says, shrugging. “But I saw an opportunity and took it. Your boyfriend was a dick, and you deserve better.”

You let out a bitter laugh. “And you think you’re better?”

Mingyu’s is smug. “I know I am.”

“And what makes you think I’d be interested in you?” you challenge, crossing your arms.

Mingyu steps closer, his gaze intense. “You’re fierce, competitive, and you don’t take shit from anyone. You’re exactly the kind of challenge I like.”

You roll your eyes, though a small part of you is flattered? “You’re still an asshole.”

He grins. “Maybe, but at least I’m honest about it. Can’t say the same for Mark.”

You take a deep breath, trying to process everything. "Mingyu, just stay out of my way. I don’t need any more complications.”

“What can I say? I know what I want.” He shrugs before leaving, again, with that stupid smirk on his face. 

[...]

You were dragged by your friends to every party on campus, parties you didn’t even know existed, every day a new one. According to them, you needed to enjoy your new ‘single’ life. And with all the guys on campus now aware that you were single, your DMs were flooded. 

Tonight was one of those nights. Everyone saw you parking your motorcycle in front of the frat house, the rumble announcing your arrival. You danced with your friends, met new people, but your happiness didn’t last long.

You caught a glimpse of Mark and Sayla. Sayla was wearing one of his baseball jackets, his arm draped over her shoulder. Everyone stared at them, the ‘new’ couple making a fool of themselves. 

You didn’t expect Mark to be so bald-faced about it. Your blood boiled, your head felt like it was on fire, and you wanted to leave the party. But if you did, you’d look weak. So you stayed, trying to enjoy the party with your friends, but it was impossible. When Mark kissed Sayla, one eye open in your direction to gauge your reaction, you couldn’t take it anymore.

You grabbed your helmet and stormed out of the party, your friends calling after you, warning you not to do anything stupid because you were hot-headed. 

And you were, for real. 

Arriving back on campus, you pulled out your phone, fingers fumbling as you dialed a number. Your steps echoed, the dress you’d chosen for the party riding up with each step, making you pull it down in frustration.

The phone rang, and rang, until finally, a voice answered, “You calling me? Y/N, what a—”

“Where are you?” you cut him off, voice trembling with rage.

“Damn, what happened to ‘hello, how are you?’” The voice was playful, but you weren’t in the mood.

“Where. Are. You.”

“Hell, I’m at my dorm, wassup?”

“Open the door,” you demanded.

“What?”

“Open the fucking door,” you said before hanging up.

Moments later, the dorm door opened, revealing Mingyu with the phone still in his hand, wearing only black shorts that showed a peek of his white underwear. He looked confused, but when he saw you—eyes almost black with rage, in your little dress—he swore it was the hottest thing he’d ever seen.

“Hmm, all upset, just the way I wanted,” he teased, leaning against the doorframe.

You pushed him inside, slamming the door shut behind you and tossing your cell phone on the table. You kissed him, rough and urgent, your fingers tangling in his hair. Mingyu moaned between kisses, the realization that you were kissing him sinking in. His hands found your waist, one hand sliding up to your neck, choking you slightly, making you gasp.

A smirk played on his lips, between breaths. “About time you admitted it.”

“Shut up,” you muttered before kissing him again, harder this time.

Mingyu's grip tightened on your waist, pulling you closer. “You’re so damn hot when you’re mad,” he murmured against your lips.

“Just shut up and kiss me,” you demanded, your fingers tugging at his hair.

He obliged, kissing you with a fervor that matched your own. His hand slid down your back, gripping your ass and pulling you against him. You could feel his bulge pressing against you, a reminder of how much he wanted you. You broke the kiss, breathlessly, your eyes locking onto his.

“What’s your plan, Y/N?” he asked, his voice a low growl.

You smirked, a glint of mischief in your eyes. “To make sure I don’t think about Mark ever again.”

Mingyu’s eyes darkened with craving. “I can help with that.”

“Good,” you said, pulling him back into a kiss, your hands exploring his body, feeling the heat radiating from his skin, fingers fumbling from his big chest, to the defined lines of his abs.

Your hand slides from his lower belly to his cock, squeezing his clothed erection slightly. You feel him twitch in your hand, a broken sob leaving his lips.

“Fuck, you got hard so fast,” you murmur against his mouth.

He moans, his breath hot and heavy. “Can’t help it when it’s you.”

You grin wickedly, turning around to show him the long zipper at the back of your dress. “Help me,” you say, your voice low and inviting.

Mingyu nods, his eyes dark with desire. He bites his lip, trying to stifle a moan as he catches the zipper and slides it down, his happiness akin to opening a Christmas gift. The dress falls away, and you hold your breasts in your hands, turning to face him, your fingers playing with your hardened nipples, watching his eyebrows furrow.

His hot hand covers yours, and you let him take over, feeling the heat of his touch. He pushes you toward the bed, his lips trailing kisses down your neck before biting gently, his notorious fangs grazing your sensitive skin. 

You moan, the sound going straight to his cock. His hands move desperately to your panties, fingers fumbling with the lace until they’re off your legs. He opens your legs with his hands, giving your wet folds a not-so-discreet look.

Mingyu licks his fingers, meeting your eyes before sliding them inside you. You scream at the sudden stretch, feeling his big fingers filling you. He looks at you, to see if it hurts, but then he feels you getting wetter and wetter, your pants filling the room. His hand stills, and you roll your clit against his palm.

His fingers start to slide in and out, the wet noises are sinful as he finds your g'spot. You gasp, your body arching from his bedsheets, your both hands finding his forearm, stilling his fingers curled in this position. 

Mingyu's eyes widen in surprise at your reaction, and he repeats the motion, pressing against your sweet spot again, making your eyes fill with tears. 

''R-right here! Please!" 

“Did your boyfriend never find this spot?” he asks, his voice serious.

You shake your head negatively, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps. 

Mingyu's expression hardens, anger flashing in his eyes. “That asshole didn’t know how to please you,” he mutters, then his voice softens as he coos at you. 

You sob, his fingers curling repeatedly on the spongy spot. “Aw… don’t worry, my love. I’m going to make you feel so good.”

He continues to stimulate you, watching your every reaction, your pleasure nourishing his own. His fingers work you expertly, and you start to get embarrassed by how wet you are getting.

But you can't stop your hips from rubbing against his hands, you can't stop yourself from constantly moaning his name, and you can't help but wonder how you survived without feeling the pleasure Mingyu was giving you.  

Your body tenses so much, you're afraid of getting injured, and the pleasure builds, making your vision blurry, catching only Mingyu's silhouette. “Mingyu…,” you gasp, your voice shaking.

He's in love with your sensitive form. He slides his fingers out, brushing against your clit, making you moan, wanting the stimulation again, but then he munches on your pussy, making a throaty moan leave your mouth, tears wetting your cheeks. You don't even know if you're sobbing or moaning. You can only focus on his warm mouth sucking everything it can. 

Mingyu moans against you, like he's getting stimulated too, and when you manage to squeak out, “Gonna' cum,” he moans even more, the vibrations going to your clit as you arch your back, squeezing your tits. 

He opens your legs—quivering pathetically around his head—with the strength of his arms. He only stops when he feels your clit throbbing incessantly inside his mouth, all sensitive.

You don't know how long it took before you were in your mind again, but you can feel Mingyu kissing your whole body. For him, it was a maxim to calm you down, but mainly to appreciate every bit of your skin. When you open your eyes, he's kissing your hand, his thumb gently caressing it. You don't look much, or you will blush. For him, it could finish like this: you cummed, satisfied, and he gets satisfied. But then you mumble, eyes lidded, “Fuck me, please.”

His eyes almost fall from his skull. He watches your legs spread, and you slap weakly at your pussy, inviting him. Mingyu almost falls back with your tease. His hands, lowering his shorts and underwear in one go, desperate to go over you.

"Wait." 

He stills, and you smile at his obedience. You turn around, on all fours, wiggling your ass at him, and you hear a suffered moan behind you, making you scoff. 

He squeezes your ass between his hands tightly, then slaps your meat, making you hiss. Then another one, making you moan. Then another one, making you drip a line of your cum on the sheets.

Mingyu feels like a crazy creature. He pumps his veiny cock before sliding on your wet folds to spread your cum. And then slides inside. You were so tight, so tight that his blood pressure almost falls down. 

“I need to thank your boyfriend for keeping it tight.” He groans after bottoming out.

You widen your eyes at the comment, he sounded so sincere. And you laugh, your hand covering your face, and he chuckles too, seeing that he can't hold his tongue around you.

He can feel you clenching around him every time you laugh, making him moan synchronized with you. He starts to move and your laughs turn into moans, laughed-moans.

“Shit, you’re so tight, you are squeezing me,” he cries, his thrusts slow and deep.

“Didn’t think you’d be this talkative,” you manage between gasps, your body responding to every move he makes.

“Can’t help it,” he breathes, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. 

His pace quickens, the sound of skin slapping against skin filling the room. You grip the sheets, your back arching as he hits just the right spot. “Right there, Mingyu. Fuck, right there.”

He obeys, his thrusts becoming more precise, each one sending thrills through your body. “You feel so good,” he murmurs, his hands gripping your hips. “So fucking good.”

"Seriously, Mingyu," continue betwee moans, "you have no filter."

He grins, thrusting harder. "You're too much."

"Too much for you?" you tease, pushing back against him.

"Never," he mooans, his hands gripping your hips tighter. "I could do this forever."

You moan at his words, that feeling on your stomach tightening. "God, Mingyu..."

He leans over, his breath hot against your ear. "You like it when I talk, hm? When I say, how good you feel?"

You nod frantically, your mind a blur, you were cock-drunk, moaning his name like it was the only word you ever knew.

He chuckles darkly, thrusting deeper. "Good, because I’m not stopping until you can’t even say his name."

He stops his hips inside you, balls deep, and you can feel his tip kissing your cervix as he rolls his hips to make you feel it deep. Your arms quiver, making you fall with your chest on the bed, face on the sheets. You've never felt someone this deep before. Your hand reaches the bulge Mingyu makes on your belly, and you writhe.

He dirty talks, "You like to feel me here?"

You answer with a throaty moan. He closes his eyes to your rough moan and says, "Fuck, I need to see your pretty face moaning my name."

He turns you to lay on the bed again, one of your legs on his shoulder, and the other stretched by his hand. Since when were you this flexible? you think. When he slams inside you again, your messy cunt clings to him for dear life.

You moan all sly, and Mingyu is inches from your face now, and he teases you, "Look who's all sensitive right now. Where's that grumpy girl from the race? Hm? You just needed a good cock fucking you right to get you relaxed? Right, babe?"

You want to clap a hand on his mouth to keep his cocky talk out of it, but your pussy betrays you, clenching around him the moment his dirty words start to fall from his lips. Instead, you give some wet kisses on his lips. He reciprocates every one of them.

You ask him to touch you, and he looks in your eyes, asking, "Where?"

You guide one of his hands to your clit. He collects some of the lubrication that formed a ring at the base of his cock and starts to massage the swollen bud, circling it. Your nails scratch his back, and he hisses, eyes closing. He ruts desperately into you, your pussy casting a spell on him, all wet and good for him. 

You glance around the space, the warm illuminated lamp, the scent of his cologne everywhere, his tanned body sweating to give you pleasure, his muscles clenching as he holds you, his hand on your clit, his cock filling you, his eyes focused on every one of your expressions, his moans every time you clench.

You prepare for every detail when your eyes suddenly blur. You feel it coming... fuck. You're cumming, but something else is coming too. 

The realization hits you, and you say, "No, no, no, shit!"

You hold his bicep, your head thrown back, the veins on your neck popping. You try to stop, but you can't. You squirt all over him and his bed.

Mingyu stops inside you, mouth open. Now he gets desperate, taking his cock from you and cumming on your belly, so far that it hits your tits too. He lets your legs rest on the bed, and you cover your mouth.

"M-Mingyu, your bed! I'm sorry, let me put this to wash and—" You start to get up, feeling a rush of embarrassment and responsibility for the mess.

Mingyu, still catching his breath, quickly moves to stop you, his hand firm but gentle on your shoulder. He gives you a little push, making you lay back on the bed again. "Hey, relax," he says, his voice low and soothing. "It's just a bed. We can clean it up later."

You look at him, your cheeks flushed. "But it's such a mess," you protest weakly.

He chuckles softly, the sound vibrating through his chest. "I like it messy," he says, leaning down to kiss your forehead. "Besides, I think I like you better like this."

"But seriously, Mingyu, your bed—"

He cuts you off with a kiss, his lips capturing yours in a tender, lingering embrace. When he pulls back, his eyes are dark with desire. "The bed can wait," he murmurs. "Right now, I want to focus on you."

Your heart skips a beat at his words, the sincerity in his voice making your pulse quicken. "Mingyu," you whisper, feeling the heat rise in your body again.

He tilts your chin up to meet his gaze, his thumb brushing gently over your lower lip. "You're beautiful, you know that?" he says softly. "Especially when you're all flustered and breathless like this."

Mingyu's eyes sparkle with mischief as he leans in closer, his breath warm against your skin. "Then why don't we make a little more mess before we clean up?" he suggests, his voice a seductive whisper.

[...]

Your ex's message lights up your cellphone on the table beside the bed: "Where are you?" Mark asks. You can't help but scoff at the audacity. The nerve of him to ask after everything he's done. A surge of defiance washes over you, fueled by the memory of him flaunting Sayla around like some trophy.

Mingyu's rhythm doesn't falter as he thrusts into you from behind, his hand gripping your hair, pulling just enough to make you feel the pain on your scalp, but loving the pleasure that comes with it too. You reach for your phone, you know exactly how to answer Mark's question.

With a quick swipe, you open the camera, positioning it just right. The screen captures the sinful scene—Mingyu's defined body behind you, your flushed shoulder peeking into view, and your hair being pulled by Mingyu. 

You snap the photo and attach it to the message as a single view photo. 

Letting the image speak for itself.

"Here's your answer," you mutter under your breath, hitting send.

Mingyu's grip tightens, his pace quickening as he senses the shift in your mood. "What did you just do?" he asks, laughing.

You turn your head slightly to meet his gaze, a wicked smile playing on your lips. "Just answered a question," you reply, your voice breathless.

Mingyu's eyes darken with approval. "Good girl," he murmurs, leaning down to kiss the back of your neck, his thrusts growing more forceful. "Let's give him something to really be jealous about."

The bed creaks beneath you, the sound mingling with the chorus of moans and gasps that fill the room. As Mingyu's hand slips down to tease your clit, your phone buzzes again, another message from Mark. 

But you don't bother to check it. 

[nerdy-novelist017]

A Date (Benny Cross x Shy!Reader Pt 3)

Thank you so much for all your kind words, likes and reblogs on my last two posts! You guys are keeping me so entertained with the comments!

Ugh I rewrote this like 3 times :( I just couldn't get it right and I'm still not sure how I feel about it OH WELL

Benny x Bunny Masterlist

Word Count- 2.2K

Summary- You were sure you'd never see Benny Cross again. . . you were wrong.

******

“Benny’s been asking for ya.”

Your heart skipped a beat and you nearly dropped the receiver into the bowl of cake batter. Kathy’s statement came out of left field, the two of you having been discussing the latest news on the block – what kind of lipstick Sheryl Dickie uses that somehow always lasts an entire night of bar hopping. “What?”

“Yeah, says he’s real desperate to ask you somethin’,” Kathy’s tone was flippant, but you’ve known her long enough to hear the excitement she’s hiding in her voice.

“What could he possibly have to talk to me about?” You asked as you set the whisk down and moved around the kitchen counter to peak down the hallway towards the living room where you knew your father sat in his large recliner, watching a rerun of Bonanza. 

“I dunno, maybe you should come to another meetin’ so you can find out.”

“No, I’m not going to anymore of those.” you declared firmly, yanking the cord so that the phone was up to your other ear. “I don’t know how you can stand being around those guys.”

Kathy laughed, the static spiking. “C’mon, they’re fun, and you know it. Did you tell your parents how you got to ride on the back of a Vandal’s bike, and not just any Vandal!”

“No!” you squeaked. “And they’re never going to know. It was a one-time thing.”

“It doesn’t have to be. They’re having another meetin’ tonight. I’m sure Benny could pick you up–”

“Well, I can’t tonight,” you cut her off. “I have plans.”

“What plans?”

“My date.”

“Date?” Kathy asked, voice lowering dubiously. “With who?”

“Pete,” you said quietly. 

“Who?” she asked again.

You sighed. “Pete? The guy from Mama’s church?” 

Pete was introduced to you last week by your mother who was introduced to him by his mother. It was a train of people who wanted to matchmake, to see young love blossom before their eyes, even if it was forced. Pete was nice enough and he had kind eyes that sat behind wide-rimmed glasses. You’d been on one other date with him. He was an engineering student in his first year and he talked a lot about his school. He liked school. And he liked to golf nearly every weekend (his family belonged to the country club on the upper side of town). And mostly – he talked a lot about himself. He seemed to really like himself too.

“Oh, okay.” Kathy sounded unimpressed.

“My family really likes him. My dad likes him.”

“Yeah?” 

At her unenthusiastic response, you added quickly, “And I’m excited!”

“Is that why you’re stress-baking?” Kathy inquired as if she could sense it.

You glance down at the bowl of cake batter. No, it wasn’t, actually. You weren’t nervous to go on your second date with Pete; he didn’t make her nervous, didn’t fill your belly with those pesky butterflies. Pete was . . . just Pete. No, you were stress-baking because of a certain blonde Bikerider whose ocean blue eyes wouldn’t leave your thoughts all night. You were up, tossing and turning, replaying every moment with him like a broken record. It was one ride, the logical side of your mind had to say, and you’ll never see him again. You allowed yourself the rest of the night to think about him, and then you wouldn’t set aside any more time. 

In theory, it was a nice strategy. But when you woke up today, your thoughts were absolutely clouded with him and his incredibly direct eye-contact and his deeply rich voice and his hand touching your thigh and his lips encasing the cigarette—

You were doing it again! It had been one ride! One ride and a few hours. One ride where your arms wrapped so tightly to his solid form. One ride where he showed you places you’d never seen before, from a point of view you’d never been before. One ride where you felt as though you were seeing the world in a whole new light. One ride that you couldn’t get out of your head.

“Yes, because of Pete,” you replied evenly. “And I’m going to have a good time with him tonight.”

There’s a smile in her voice when she says, “Okay, sure. Say, what restaurant did ya say he was takin’ you?”

********

Thanking the driver, you stepped out of the cab, your heels connecting softly with the concrete of the sidewalk. Taking a moment to smooth any wrinkles on your pink dress, your gaze fluttered across the street to the restaurant Pete told you to meet him at. 

Ricardo’s was one of the most expensive restaurants in town, somewhere you never found yourself frequenting, but Pete absolutely gushed about their food. Coming from old money, Pete had no hesitation picking here for your second date. Pete’s family was well off, that’s what your mother liked to point out. He was a good boy with good money. He would provide for you, buy you a nice house with a picket fence in the front yard. A safe bet for the same routine life that nearly all the women of your family had spanning back several generations.

You made your way across the street, eyes taking in the lineup of expensive cars parked out front: Mercedes, Rolls Royce, Cadillac . . . Harley-Davidson motorcycle. You did a double-take at the shiny metal glinting underneath the streetlamp, eyes traveling upwards to the figure leaning casually against it. He was looking at the restaurant, head turned to give a generous view of his profile, and he hadn’t noticed you yet. For a split second, you considered taking advantage of that and booking it into the front door before he had a chance to stop you. But some deeply intrinsic part of you yearned to memorize every detail of him and you simply couldn’t look away. As a moth drawn to flame, you were drawn to him, to the golden streaks of his hair, down to the strong slope of his nose, the curve where his top lip sat so perfectly against the bottom – even with the cigarette tucked between. He wore long sleeves under his club jacket and the same distressed jeans from your last encounter. Half shrouded in the darkness of night, with the orange glow of the streetlight nearest to him, he looked like a beacon of mystery. Abandoning your previous course, you turned and approached him.

“What are you doing here?” You asked once you were close enough for him to hear you. 

Benny turned and a smile broke out over his features, eyes sweeping down your figure. “Do you dress like that all the time or only when you’re gonna see me?” He asked, nodding to your dress and heels. 

You stopped about 6 feet away from him (a reasonable distance), hopping up onto the sidewalk. “I didn’t expect to see you here.” 

“What a chance encounter,” he proclaimed with a secretive wink that sent your stomach on a roller coaster ride. 

“Chance encounter, or Kathy’s loose lips?” you quipped and he rubbed a hand over his mouth to keep from smiling, fingers grazing through the blonde, recently-trimmed facial hair.  

“Why are you here?” You asked again, this time a touch quieter.  

“Well, I have a coupon,” he replied simply.

You couldn’t stop the smile from tugging at your lips, your brows raising incredulously. “A coupon? To Ricardo’s?”

“Mm-hm,” he nodded, straight-faced.

You rolled your eyes at his antics. He had a coupon, your ass. A well-dressed elderly couple walked past you both on the sidewalk, each shooting a look of disapproval toward the dirty young man leaning against his death machine. Benny seemed not to notice them, his gaze still on you. 

“Why are you here?” he questioned.

“I–I have a date,” you replied and desperately tried to ignore the heat rising to your face at the admission. “But something tells me you already know that.”

“Hmm,” he hummed, looking down to the ground for all of five seconds before his gaze flashed back up to you. “Wanna go for a ride, Little Bunny?”

“What? No.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

“Why not?”

“Well, I just told you I'm here for a date,” you replied with a tilt of your head. 

Benny shrugged. “So?”

You shook your head but he continued, “Why are you wastin’ your time with dates when we’re gonna be married anyway?”

Your mouth fell open in surprise. The nerve on this guy! Part of you was surprised that he still had it in his head of marrying you. You thought maybe he had a few too many beers last night or was just smooth-talking you so that you’d let him sleep with you. But here he was, showing up on the sidewalk, giving you those puppy eyes. You’d already denied him once. Could he not take a hint?

“I don’t recall you ever asking.” you pointed out, feeling emboldened by his casual attitude. 

He perked up at that, tossing the remainder of his cigarette to the ground. “You want me to ask?”

You fought to remain neutral-faced at his playfulness. “No, thank you. Now, if you’ll excuse me . . . I have a date.” One that you were excited about before you caught sight of Benny and your train of thoughts completely derailed.

Benny held his hands up in a conciliatory way and you turned on your heel, leaving him out on the streets as you made your way inside.

******

The clock on the far wall seemed to be mocking you, minutes ticking by mercilessly. You resisted looking at it, instead planting your chin in the palm of your hand as you watched the door, waiting for Pete’s familiar face to appear. It had been over an hour. He was over an hour late for your date. 

Each time the waitress returned to fill your glass of water, you told yourself a new lie. He was just stuck at work, he’ll be here soon. He was running behind getting ready, he’ll be here soon. There must have been an emergency, he’ll be here soon. He wouldn’t stand you up, he’ll be here soon. 

But as the seconds passed, you sunk further and further into your seat, humiliation forming a ball in your stomach. Surely, he had gotten his days mixed up? He really seemed to enjoy your first date, so why was he nowhere to be seen. Every time someone walked through the front door, the little bell chiming above, you glanced up, certain it would be him. But it never was. At first, you were angry. How could he have the audacity to leave you hanging without so much as calling you before he left if he knew he wouldn’t be able to make it. Then a bitter thought came to mind: what if he stood you up because he didn’t want to go out with you again. What if you weren't good enough for him. You had spent your whole life on the never ending hamster wheel of trying to be good enough for everyone else. Was your hard work even noticed?

Recognizing the sting of unshed tears, you looked down at the napkin folded neatly in your lap, blinking rapidly in an attempt to get control of yourself. The bell chimed over the front door, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look over at it, not wanting to feel the crushing disappointment of another wealthy customer walking inside and not your date. 

Then a flash of dark clothing popped across from you and you looked up just as Benny Cross slid into the empty seat. You opened your mouth, but no words came out. He leaned forward, elbows of his leather jacket propped over the tablecloth.

“Pete not show?” he asked, expression solemn. 

Your ears burned and you shook your head. Too preoccupied by your embarrassment, it didn’t even occur to you that you had never told him Pete’s name. 

He frowned and he genuinely appeared upset. Unable to maintain his direct gaze, you glanced away and caught the eyes of everyone else in the restaurant staring wide-eyed at the two of you. You realized that it was Benny who they were gawking at. And you didn’t seem to notice until now that he looked totally out of place with his worn clothes and dirty hands. As if sensing their not-so-subtle staring, Benny turned and looked about the room.

“What’s with all the stiff shirts in here?” he asked, sending you a conspiratorial glance. “I think they might be intimidated by you.”

“Me?” You furrowed your brow. It definitely wasn’t you they were looking at. In fact, the only person who was staring at you was Benny. 

“Yeah, I bet they’ve never seen anyone as pretty as you. Most people haven’t and they don't know how to act when they do.” He grinned and you had to look down at your lap as heat rose to your face.  

“I guess Pete wouldn’t agree,” you muttered quietly, feeling the anger in your heart fizzle out to meer disappointment. 

“Fuck Pete,” Benny said passionately, causing an elderly woman behind you to gasp and you giggled, shocked at his language. Benny was bad, he was trouble . . . but he was also fun, and you couldn’t hide your eagerness as he leaned his arms across the table, moving closer to address you privately. 

“You wanna get out of here, Bunny?” His question sent a gust of anticipation through your veins. 

“Yeah,” you admitted, smiling shyly. 

He stood quickly and you followed in suit. Then he did something that caused a wave of butterflies to roll through your stomach; he reached out and clasped his hand with you, interlocking fingers tightly. You grinned, excitement making you feel light and airy as he pulled you through the restaurant, past all the staring faces and harsh whispers and out the door into the night which felt alive with a whole new feeling of possibilities. 

*Tag List*

@imusicaddict @elizabeth916 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @dudii4love @ironmooncat @beebeechaos @astrogrande @pearlparty @themorriganisamonster @sillylittlethrowaway @ughdontbeboring @penwieldingdreamer @charmingballoon @eugene-emt-roe  @sunnbib @semperamans @groovyangelkisses @killerqueenfan

[seresinhangmanjake]

Daddy!Benny Cross x Momma!Reader

Your and Benny’s little girl gets injured playing on a bike and must go to the hospital. Benny doesn’t handle it well.

Warnings/Notes: mention of broken bones, cursing, angry but sweet dad Benny, protectiveness, typos, and I think that’s it.

Part of the Come Back Knockin’ universe. Takes place after Come Back Together and Together and More, but you don't have to read these beforehand to understand this fic.

Words: 1250

Benny Cross Masterlist

Benny’s going to lose his damn mind—that’s all you can think as you stand beside Wahoo in the hospital lobby, the both of you keeping sharp eyes out the wall-length windows to spot your husband. Facing him will be no easy feat and you need all the time you can get to prepare yourselves before he stomps through those doors. 

“Wahoo, I don't know about this. You really better go back to the meeting,” you encourage him, as you’ve done at least ten times in the last fifteen minutes. 

“Nah, I gotta stay and apologize to ‘im,” he replies. “But you shouldn’t have to wait here with me. You should go be with your girl.”

Your eyes scan the visible area from the benches in the flowered courtyard to the emergency sign attached to the building’s exterior brick before darting to the looped driveway reserved for ambulances. He’s nowhere in sight. But he will be soon enough. You called him—you peek at your watch—exactly twelve minutes and forty-three seconds ago. The shop is nineteen minutes away from the hospital and there’s no way he’s not speeding. 

“If I go, who is going to stop Benny from killing you?” you say, your heart hammering in your chest. 

You love your husband, but the man has a temper that can flare as easily as a swift strike of a match. He has started many short-lived fights, always requiring some patching up before the excitement finally settles down, but if Benny is given time to simmer, he can explode with an unrivaled rage.

Wahoo chuckles awkwardly, turning his head to look at you. 

“You got a point there, sweetheart,” he says. Then he goes silent amongst the background chattering of anxious families and ringing phone lines at the front desk.

You glance his way just in time to see the harsh bob of his Adam’s apple. 

“I won’t let him,” you promise. “You know…kill you.”

“Not sure you’re gonna be able to stop ‘im. You and the kid are the most important things in his world, and one of yous got hurt on my watch.”

A wince pinches your face at the memory and you’re so busy worrying about how the events of the next few minutes are going to unfold that you miss Benny’s entrance entirely. 

“What the fuck!” Benny shouts. It echoes throughout the room, making every head swivel, every conversation cease. 

As he storms closer, you step between him and Wahoo, your hands planting firmly on his chest. Murder is in his glare and though he could easily barrel through the barrier in his path, that would involve shoving you aside, and regardless of the circumstances, he would never do that.

Benny’s arm raises over your shoulder, finger pointed like a dagger toward his friend—well, enemy, at the moment. “What the hell you doin’ lettin’ my four-year-old on your fuckin’ bike!”

He tries to side-step you but you’re watching his feet, catching his movements before he can finish making them. 

“I’m real sorry, Benny,” Wahoo says meekly.

“Sorry? You’re sorry!” His tone is darker, fists clenching, anger overflowing and spilling onto the tiled floor. Without glancing at you, in a much softer—but still threatening—voice, he says, “Baby, move.”

You look up at him. Your hands slide from his chest to cup his cheeks in a failed effort to trap his attention. “Benny, it was an accident, ok? Alright? She was just playing pretend like she does with you and she wiggled out of his grasp and landed wrong,” you tell him. 

“I don't fuckin’ care if it was an accident.”

He’s so revved up, so locked in on his target, that your stomach twists for Wahoo. He’s been such a kind man and he’s so good with your daughter that he’s told you once or twice he wishes he could have one of his own someday.

When Lucy fell, it took all of two seconds for his visibly consuming guilt to settle in. He’d immediately picked her up, buckled her into your car, and followed you straight to the hospital where he has stressed over her injured state from the moment of arrival. He doesn’t deserve the abuse from Benny as if he was negligent. Benny, a man who regularly demonstrates little of his own self-preservation skills, but happens to go feral when his child so much as skins her knee. 

“Move.”

“Benny, please,” you say. “Honey, look at me.”

If you can get his eyes on you then he’ll be stuck to you like glue. He’ll calm down. The huffing and puffing of his chest will slow. 

And to your relief, when you stand up on your toes to invade his line of sight that is exactly what happens. The vengeance drains out of his face, replaced by a gentleness that only ever reveals itself to you and your shared child. 

“She’s fine,” you say. “She cried until the doctor gave her a sucker and now I’m not sure she even cares about her arm.”

Benny’s mouth dips into a frown. His brow pinches, then his teeth bite down hard on his bottom lip. “She got hurt,” he says, and your heart breaks for him.

You sigh. “I know.”

“I wasn’t there.”

“You wouldn’t have been able to stop it even if you were. It happened in a split-second,” you tell him. “You’re here now; that’s what matters. And wouldn’t you rather see her than argue?”

Benny’s exhale is a sharp release of air that subdues the remnants of his temper. “Where is she?”

You point to the double doors off to the side of the lobby. “Through there,” you say.

Benny swallows, nods, and takes your hand. But when he looks up, the glare resurfaces. “You're not gettin’ off,” he tells Wahoo. “I’ll deal with you later.”

As Benny pulls you along in the direction of your daughter, you quickly whisper to your friend, “I'll take care of it, but you ought to go.”

Wahoo’s smile is weak, never reaching his eyes, and his hands slip into his jeans pockets before he turns on his heel for the exit.

---

“Daddy!”

Lucy hops up from the floor where a few toys are scattered about from playing with the nurse in your absence. 

Benny plasters on a smile that barely conceals his agitation as he scoops her up in his arms. “You doin’ alright, nugget?”

“Mhmm,” Lucy hums, chipper as ever. “I finished my sucker. It tasted like grape.” She lifts her arm and Benny’s head jerks back to avoid a collision with his nose. “You like my cast?” 

You watch Benny struggle to come up with a positive reply, considering that within said cast is his little baby’s broken arm. “Y-Yea, Lu. It’s…It’s real great.”

“It’s blue!”

“I see that.”

The nurse chuckles as she rises from the floor and dusts invisible specks of dirt from her pristinely white uniform. “You’ve got yourself a lovely little girl,” she praises, tilting her head affectionately as he takes in the image of Lucy tucking her head into the crook of Benny’s neck. “The doctor says we’ll need to see you back here in six weeks.”

“Thank you.”   

She starts toward the door but pauses as she passes your daughter. “Goodbye, miss Lucy,” she says, her smile wide. 

“Bye, miss nurse!” With her good hand, Lucy gives an animated wave that the nurse returns as she closes the door behind her. 

Benny releases the sigh you’re pretty sure he’s been holding in since you called him. He cups the side of Lucy's head as if he could cradle her closer than she already is.

“You're not gonna be sittin’ up on any bikes for a real long while,” he says.

Lucy’s head shoots up, eyes widening in panic. “Nooo!” she whines. “You can't stop me!” 

“You wanna bet?”

“Yes!” she snaps back. “I…I'll do it when you aren't lookin'!”

Benny scoffs. "I'm not lettin' you out of my sight."

"I'll be real sneaky!"

The air of rebelliousness is all too familiar and it makes you snicker. Because despite the exhaustion of the day, despite the tears and the shouting and the drama that you hope will not reemerge later, all you can think as the bantering unfolds before you is that that little girl is definitely Benny Cross’s daughter.

---

Thanks for reading :)

Tag List (if you wanna join)

[callsign-fox]

You Can Have Me - Rafe

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader (Jj's twin sister)

** MAJOR SPOILERS IF YOU ARE NOT UP TO DATE**

18+ ONLY!!

Written with the help of my darling BFF @fanficgirl429

This is my first dip into OBX and I am not disappointed in myself :P Leave some love if you like it xo

---------------------------------------

I jolted awake, the torment of my latest nightmare abruptly dissipating. The early morning sunlight caressed my skin as it filtered through the delicate white curtains. The movement beside me anchored me to the reality that I was home in North Carolina, secure, if only for the moment. 

“You good?” Kie asked beside me in a sleepy tone.

My body resisted as I cast aside the comforter and compelled myself to rise from the bed.

“I don’t think ‘good’ is the right word,” I muttered, grabbing my sports bra from the floor and moving toward the bathroom. 

She mumbled something I couldn’t quite make out before rolling away from me. 

Upon our return from Morocco, the stark reality of having lost both our home and business hit us with overwhelming force. Rafe Cameron, who seemed the most improbable of heroes, extended the hospitality of his beachfront home to us pogues. John B would say this was a gesture to Sarah and the fact Rafe would soon be an uncle. Conversely, Sarah claims it was because of me. I chose to ignore her. 

It may be difficult to comprehend, but experiencing homelessness was not the most distressing event of the past month. Upon our return home, we found ourselves one member short of our original group. My sole family member, my twin brother, is now lost to me permanently. My heart has been irreparably broken, as the only true family I ever knew was taken away by our estranged and unstable father.

I couldn’t make this shit up if I tried. 

It has been more than three weeks since that happened. While I have not fully come to terms with the loss of a significant part of myself, I have become emotionally numb to it. I could not endure another expression of sympathy or inquiry about my well-being from anyone in the community. With that being said, for the past week, I have rarely stepped outside the small room that Kie and I shared.

I brushed my teeth and then swiftly threw my hair up in a loose ponytail. Once I was done, I grabbed some running shorts and paired it with a loose tee, desperate to release endorphins. 

“I’m going for a run, I’ll be back in an hour.” 

The door was already shut but I smiled at the muffled ‘be careful’ from Kie. 

My sneakers slid on effortlessly, and before anyone had the chance to engage me in conversation, I exited. Upon reaching the bottom of the stairs, I halted suddenly, intrigued by the sound of music coming from one of the open garages. It was a quarter past seven, and we were not particularly a lively bunch this early in the day.

As I approached the open door, Rafe came into sight. He was standing there, humming to the music, dressed in a snug white t-shirt and boxers. A wave of butterflies stirred in my stomach at the mere sight of him, evoking a mix of confusion and excitement within me. He glanced up from the bike, removing the black grease from his fingers onto his shirt.

“Y/N, hey.” 

I smiled at him as I leaned against the frame to the garage. “Hey Rafe.” 

A week prior to our departure for Morocco, I had spent hours wrapped up in this man. His skin pressed against mine, his lips caressing every inch of my body. The mere recollection of those moments left me feeling lightheaded. However, since our return, our communication had dwindled to almost nothing. I stood at the door to his bedroom one night, desperate to feel him inside of me again, but terrified of being denied. I went to bed tense and alone. 

My body yearned for him once more as he gazed at me with his deep ocean blue eyes. It was evident that he was attempting to decipher my thoughts, his eyes narrowing while I remained silent.

“Are you ok?” he asked, leaning on his bike. 

I pulled myself from the trance and stepped further into the garage. “Please don’t ask me that, I’m sick of people asking me that.” 

He cocked his head to the side before dropping a tool in his toolbox. “Fine. Am I allowed to ask if you are having a good morning?” 

“I am so far, but maybe check back later as things can change at any given moment. I’m going to go for a run.” 

Rafe nodded and reached down for something I couldn’t see. “Cool, cool. I would have thought maybe you were going to the shooting range or something.” 

I decided it was best to play dumb. “Why would I be going to a shooting range?” 

His hand resurfaced holding a black gun. 

Shit. 

I looked at the gun then back at him. I was careless, and couldn’t remember where I’d left. It must have been in the back of his truck. “I can explain.” 

“I actually have a few questions. One, where the fuck did you get this? And two, are you insane?” 

This wasn’t at all how I was hoping this morning would go. “Look, I know how to use it. I’ve been practicing.” 

“Oh, you know how to use it? That makes me feel much better,” he laughed, removing the clip and putting it back into the bag he pulled it out of. “What are you doing, Y/N? Are you planning on going and killing Groff yourself?” 

“Why not?” 

Rafe’s eyes widened as he straddled the bike. “For fuck sake, Y/N.” 

I moved closer, standing right beside him and the bike. “Why not, Rafe? I don’t want anyone else hurt, and we know he isn’t above killing his own children let alone my friends. I can do this, I have to do this!”

“And what if he kills you first?” 

As if I didn’t think about that. “That’s definitely a possibility.” 

“A possibility…” He had that crazed look we all knew so well. “Do you even know where he is?” He asked, clearly irritated as he rubbed his eyes. 

His question surprised me. “No, I don’t.” 

Rafe nodded, then reached for a wrench in his toolbox. “Alright…” 

I leaned forward trying to catch his gaze, “Alright what?” 

“Once you know where he is, you let me know.”  

This time I laughed. “Why would I do that, you’d try and stop me.”

“I won’t. When you know where he is, I’ll go with you and we’ll kill the son of a bitch.” 

I stood there silent for a moment, confused at the sharp turn the conversation just took. He continued on his bike as if no words had just been exchanged. Like neither of us were just perfectly ok with committing murder three seconds ago. 

“Rafe…I can’t ask you to do that.” 

“You didn’t ask, I volunteered.” 

He threw the wrench back into the box and reached out to me, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me into him. “I’m supposed to be the crazy one, but right now you’re scaring me a little.” 

My hand instinctively reached for his abdomen, applying a gentle pressure against his muscles.

“You scare me too.” 

An unexpected rush of life filled my heart, which throbbed so vigorously that I worried it might burst from my chest. He moved in closer, our lips nearly aligned, brushing softly against one another without fully making contact.

His calloused hands traversed the bare skin of my waist, then stealthily slipped under the waistband, pulling me tightly against his thigh. He smiled at me, and I could feel the heat rising, a flush spreading between my legs.

“Y/N…” his lips brushed my cheek, before moving to my ear sending a shiver down my spine to where my body wanted him most. ”I need you, and if Groff takes you away before I even get to have you…let’s just say things won’t end well.” 

I moved my hand down to his boxers, slipping beneath the elastic. My fingers curled around his firm erection, gliding back and forth. “Rafe, you can have me whenever you want me.” 

Rafe moaned, biting softly on the nape of my neck. 

He gently pulled me closer, lifting my leg so I could straddle the bike to sit on his lap. Our lips finally reunited, but this time there was no hesitation, only an intense desire. My arm encircled his neck as I leaned back on the handlebars, arching my back into him while feeling the ignition pressing against my shoulder blades. It didn't matter though, as I was completely enthralled with this man. 

Rafe withdrew slightly, his fingers gliding up my leg until they encountered my shorts. With a delicate motion, he eased them down, removing them as if he had performed this action countless times before. As he leaned in once more, his lips met my thigh, placing rough kisses upon the exposed skin. I arched my back as his mouth connected with my pulsating center, his thumb teasing the thin, damp fabric.

“Oh, god.” I let out a soft sound as he moved the loose fabric aside, teasing my sensitive area.

His tongue swirled over my core, and my body threatened to tip over the edge. I could feel him smiling as he devoured me, the sounds escaping me only egging him on further. He momentarily withdrew, prompting me to reach out in protest.

“I like you begging, but I’m just getting these out of the way so I can ruin you.” 

My underwear fell away effortlessly, and before I could utter another word, he returned to his position between my legs, guiding me nearer to my peak. The sensation coursing through me was the most intense I had ever experienced. His tongue glided over my center, while two fingers rhythmically entered and exited, propelling me toward the precipice of pleasure.

“Fuck, I’m going to come.” 

The apparent struggle in my voice served only to urge him to quicken his movements, and I was unable to withstand it any further. A delightful tingling spread throughout my body as I reached my peak, my heart racing and my breath becoming erratic.

Rafe reclined slightly before rising to his feet, a smirk playing on his lips, fully aware of the effect his actions had on me. His blue eyes roamed over my figure as he extended his hand toward me. I placed my hand in his, and he swiftly drew me up and guided me toward the wall. His hands descended to my waist, and he pivoted me so that my back was firmly against the wall.

“Should we stop?” Rafe asked, his fingers playing with the hem of my t-shirt. 

His boxers were halfway down his thigh when I looked up at him, towering over me with a devilish grin. “You’re so fucking funny.” 

He suddenly placed his lips against my neck, leaving a series of kisses before ultimately returning to my mouth. In a swift motion, he elevated my leg and pressed his aroused tip against my core.

“You’re nice and wet, all for me.” He whispered, biting my already inflamed bottom lip.

His length entered me effortlessly, the sensation of his movements eliciting soft moans. One of his hands firmly grasped my thigh, elevating my leg, while the other hand held my backside, his fingernails creating delicate crescent impressions as they traced my skin.

Rafe's movements began with a deliberate yet pressing urgency, intensifying with each thrust. I felt myself tighten around him as the well-known pleasure surged within me. His lips met mine, our tongues intertwining amidst our shared moans.

“Damn, you feel so good.” 

My hand clung to his shirt, pulling him tighter to me.

A wave of bliss enveloped me, my head tilting back as I softly uttered his name repeatedly. Rafe was just behind me, a deep groan escaping his lips as he nestled his face into the curve of my neck.

The two of us stood there for a moment, catching our breath. Rafe reached down and pulled his boxers back up before gently placing a kiss on the corner of my mouth. 

“For that, with you,” he smiled and took a breath. “…I’d kill a hundred Groffs.” 

The expression in my face revealed my own satisfaction. He gently placed his hands on my cheeks and kissed me one final time, this time with significantly more passion.

After what felt like an eternity, he finally withdrew, his teeth grazing his lower lip as he returned to the project he had been engaged in earlier. "Are you still planning to go for that run?" he inquired, casting a glance in my direction.

I shook my head, “No, I think I’m good.”  

[thankskenpenders]

At long last, the trailer for Sonic movie 3 is here, giving us our first look at Shadow! It looks like a fun time, though my excitement is probably more tempered than a lot of peoples' due to a few things I have mixed feelings on. Here are my off-the-cuff thoughts about it.

Shadow

Yes, it does seem like they've really nailed Shadow here. Fowler's attachment to the character clearly shows. The action looks cool and really sells Shadow as a serious threat. He's got his bike, he's doing Chaos Control all over the place, it's great. Keanu is very much just doing his regular voice, but it fits well enough. The backstory from SA2 seems to mostly be there, though I'm sure some details will be adjusted. Mostly I'm still just amazed that we're getting a major tentpole blockbuster movie this Christmas starring Shadow the fucking Hedgehog that treats him as a serious character worthy of respect. We've come such a long way...

I mean, just... what an image to see on the big screen.

I also really like the way they're setting Shadow up as a foil for movie Sonic, kind of his dark mirror image as a Mobian hedgehog whose family life on Earth ended in tragedy and turned him into a vengeful antagonist. It's pretty straightforward, but it works well.

Robotnik(s)

Welp. They put Jim Carrey in a fat suit. I suppose we knew this day would come eventually.

I guess a small part of me is glad that movie Eggman finally actually looks like Eggman in every way that matter, but they're completely playing it as a joke at his expense here. And, yeah, the Sonic franchise isn't immune to fat jokes, the early years of the franchise (particularly Western adaptations) gave Sonic tons and tons and tons of jabs about Eggman's weight. But I thought we'd moved past that. But here we are with a depressed movie Robotnik binge eating and gaining a lot of weight like Fat Thor and the other characters think he's so GROSS and look his clothes don't even fit him anymore, haha! There's so much of this crammed into the trailer. I can only pray they don't do this in every fucking scene he's in in the movie.

I do like the plot of Sonic reluctantly teaming up with Robotnik to try and stop Shadow, though. It's very different from SA2, but we knew it would be, and I think that gives the movie some potential for Sonic to have kind of a dark turn of his own that mirror's Shadow's. I have a feeling that Sonic will try to get back at Shadow for something he does - maybe hurting Tom or something like that - and in the end Sonic sympathizes with Shadow and decides they have to stop their cycle of revenge, teaming up to stop some final threat.

Oh, and, of course... Jim Carrey is also playing Professor Gerald. Who might still be alive? Or maybe it's a hallucination on Ivo's part? I don't know, but either way, I'm here for it. Everyone joked about them doing it and then they went and did it. Yes, it risks playing him as a joke character, but the shot of him and Shadow mourning Maria while surrounded by GUN soldiers makes me believe he won't be a total joke. I wouldn't be surprised if he was the true final antagonist of the film, which would diverge a lot from the games but would work as its own version of the story.

And again, WHAT an image to see on the big screen lmao

Everyone else

The human cast is VERY downplayed in this trailer, but let's not forget that they're still going to get a lot of screentime one way or another. The Sonic 2 trailer barely showed anything from Hawaii. Where oh where is my best friend Wade?

Speaking of the Wade show, Knuckles... frankly still seems to be mostly a comic relief character heavily influenced by MCU Thor here, getting some jokes in the trailer but immediately getting Worfed by Shadow when it comes time to fight. Tails seems to be flying the gang around in a real-ass helicopter, and his big pilot's helmet is funny, but otherwise he doesn't really do anything here aside from getting stomped by Shadow. I really hope they don't get sidelined too hard, but frankly I fully expect them to, Tails especially.

And, of course... I can't help but think about who isn't here. Namely: the girls. Yes, three movies and one streaming miniseries into this film franchise, exactly zero of the female (animal) characters from the games have made the jump to live action. Please allow me to bitch about this.

Despite her being both 1) a main character in the game this movie is loosely adapting and 2) my fave, I suppose I can understand why Rouge isn't here. Paramount took one look at that bat cleavage and went "nope," cowards that they are. There was some speculation that Kristen Ritter could be playing Rouge, but we now know she's just playing someone at GUN. But, again, I at least get why they'd be hesitant to include her.

But Amy... Amy is such a glaring omission at this point. There's no excuse. She's the female lead of the franchise. She's one of Sonic's closest friends. (Honestly, these days it's more accurate to say Team Sonic is Sonic, Tails, and Amy, not Knuckles, especially in the comics.) And she's also a key player in Shadow's arc in the game. Shadow has his change of heart because Amy reminds him of Maria! And yet, she's nowhere to be seen. It sucks.

(I know some fans are still holding out hope for Amy, but the toys for the movie already leaked and she didn't get anything, so I have to assume she's not in it.)

It's not like I really expected either of them to be in this movie, but that doesn't make it less disappointing that they set up the film franchise in a way that makes it logistically difficult to include 90% of the characters and conveniently managed to leave all of the girls in the "low priority" pile. Yes, I know everyone points to how much Tails was downplayed in the third act of Sonic 2 as evidence that it's just so impossible to introduce more than one new Mobian character in each movie and give them the focus they deserve. Yes, I know having to come up with a story excuse to bring more characters over to Earth is an obstacle, especially when they're gonna have to devote time to Shadow's backstory. But these are excuses. It's a writer's job to figure out solutions to problems like this. They could make it work if they really wanted to. I'd take Amy having a suboptimal amount of screentime over her not being in it at all. It's just not a priority for them. That's what disappoints me. You can justify these absences from a logical perspective, but I just care way more about Amy and Rouge as characters than I do about Shadow, so there's no way for this to not sting.

But, at the end of the day, for what the movie is actually trying to do, it seems to be pulling it off well. Aside from the fat jokes. I don't like the fat jokes. But the Shadow stuff is good. As always, this live action version of the franchise is never going to be my ideal version of Sonic, but it's turned out far better than it had any right to, and I'll probably have fun when I go see this in theaters and hear Live and Learn.

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Dangerous Games: Part 2

Fandom: Star Wars - The Acolyte (Biker AU)

Pairing: Qimir x F!Reader

Summary: A stranger on a motorcycle arrives in your small town and you can’t help but be intrigued by him and this mission that he’s set on.

Part 1 | Qimir Masterlist

Qimir looks at you, waiting for an answer. You can't help but be curious about this...mission he's set on. Your small town has been thriving for decades. Is it truly because of corruption that lies in the shadows or is it because your town's officials are just that good at their job?

You decide with a shake of your head, "I'm sorry, but I can't. This town has good people. I refuse to believe corruption is what keeps this place going." You state as you pack up your things and move to stand.

Qimir's name is called at the pick-up counter. He stands, grabbing his backpack, "If you change your mind, call me," he slides over a napkin with his name and number on it. He then heads over to the pick-up counter, leaving you to swipe the napkin up and stuffing it in your pocket. You quickly exit the cafe before Qimir sees you.

__________________

Days go by and you don't see Qimir. However, every rumble you hear go down the street, you peer out the window in excitement. After not seeing him in sight, you scold yourself for getting so worked up about some guy you just met...a really hot guy with a really cool motorcycle you just met.

The school week comes to an end and you desperately want to hang out with your friends. You reach out to them in the group chat and they all agree to come over for a potluck dinner.

Osha mentions about bringing a friend over and you respond: Sure! The more the merrier!

Imagine your surprise when she arrives with Qimir following behind her.

"Hello again," he says with that smirk that you really want to slap off his attractive face.

"You know him?"

"How do you know him?"

You and Osha ask in unison.

"We met online through some mutual friends," Osha responds, "How do you know him?" she asks with a confused expression.

"We met at the cafe earlier this week. She kept staring at me, so I decided to talk to her."

You frown, crossing your arms over your chest, "I wasn't staring at you...I was staring at your bike."

Osha raises a brow and you shrug, "It's a cool bike! I can like motorcycle bikes!"

"Have you ever ridden one?" Qimir asks.

You snort, "No, of course not! Those are death traps! I simply just like to admire from afar."

"Well, I can always let you ride on my bike," he says with a grin and you just know there's a double meaning to his statement.

You scoff, "Hard pass."

Osha gestures to you and Qimir, "Is this gonna be a problem?"

"No, no. It's fine. Friendly banter," you step aside and gesture for them to come further in, "Like I said the more the merrier."

You were going to regret that statement later.

______________________

You were not drunk enough for this.

The dinner portion had been all well and good. Various dishes and desserts were spread out on your kitchen island. All of you chatted and ate. You did your best in being amiable towards Qimir but the man made it hard when he would say such suggestive things, send you winks, and just give that smirk that made you want to smack him and kiss him at the same time.

And now he's taking off his shirt because your friends decided to play strip uno. Basically regular uno but every time you get hit with a "draw four" card, you take off a piece of clothing. This is what you get for providing you light weight friends alcohol.

Your friends whistle and holler as Qimir sits back down at the dining table. His upper torso all on display, a silver chain contrasting his golden brown skin. You avert your eyes anywhere but at him. Already you hate that his face is attractive, you can't let him know his body is just as hot.

You're staring down at the table, spacing out until Torbin tosses a plastic chip at you, "Hey! It's your turn!"

You look at the pile in the middle of the table and curse. Osha placed a "draw four" card, thus you had to strip.

Luckily, you were wearing an undershirt so you wouldn't be completely bare.

"Booo!" Osha exclaimed teasingly and you flicker her ear. In retaliation, she poke your side, causing you to burst out in giggles.

You happened to look up and see Qimir watching you, a faint smile on his lips. You quickly regain your composure and quickly grab four cards, "Next!" you say, eyes avoiding Qimir again.

Luckily, the game eventually ended before you had to take your bra or underwear off. Qimir, coincidentally, was in a similar state of undress as he was now just in his underwear.

Everyone else promptly leaves, all of their beds calling to them. Osha was completely knocked out. She was fast asleep on your couch, a soft snore coming from her.

Qimir stares at her with amusement, "I guess I'll also be staying tonight."

"Excuse me?" you ask him.

"She was my ride and I don't want to just leave her here."

"She's fine with me."

"I don't want her to be upset I left her though."

"She won't be."

"How do you know?"

You glare at the man who keeps a straight face, "Why do you want to stay here? You gonna rob me or something?"

He looks around your place, "Don't think there's anything super valuable I can take here."

"...I don't know if I should be offended by that or not. But anyway, it's fine. There's a pull out couch in my office. You can sleep there I guess."

You turn around to start cleaning up, while still in just your bra and underwear. You glance over your shoulder and see Qimir clearly checking you out.

You immediately try to cover up, "Look away, perv!"

He laughs, "Hey, I saw you checking me out earlier too! It's only fair."

"I hate you."

"That so?"

"You are the complete opposite of what I stand for and believe in."

"So it seems."

"You live dangerously and I like to play it safe."

He takes your chin in his hand and moves it so you can look into his deep brown eyes, "Why don't you try to live dangerously for once?" You watch as he glances at your lips. A part of you is screaming for you to pull away, to retreat, abort mission.

But another part of you, a much larger and louder part of you, is telling you to "fuck it all" and kiss Qimir.

So you do.

You grab him by the back of the neck, pulling his lips to yours. There's no hesitation on his part as his hands run down your sides and grip your hips. He pulls you closer so you're flushed right against his chest.

"Wait," you pull away, eyeing the still sleeping Osha.

"Bedroom?"

"Yeah," you reply breathlessly, taking his hand in yours and leading him to your bedroom.

[littlefireball]

I hope you rest well!

I'd like to request a story: wooyoung in a non idol au setting. Strangers to lovers (with with him and her being inexperienced (getting intimate) but her having many ideas what she wants. Also I'd love if the met many times and made out many times before they did the deed!

Thank you!!But im not sure what 'I'd love if the met many times' 😥 is it mean they meet many times? but it doesn't matter i made it laaaa but sorry the make out scenes are not that much TT

ᴡʏ|ᴡᴀɴɴᴀ ʙᴇᴛ? (ᴍ)

ɢᴀᴍᴇʀ ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ x ɢᴀᴍᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ: ʟᴏɴɢ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ|ꜱᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀꜱ ᴛᴏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʀꜱ|ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴏᴜᴛ|ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴜʀʙᴀᴛᴇ|ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛᴇᴅ ꜱᴇx|ᴍᴀɴʏ ᴘᴏꜱɪᴛɪᴏɴꜱ :)|ʀᴏᴜɢʜ ꜱᴇx|ᴅᴀᴅᴅʏ ᴋɪɴᴋ|ᴡᴏᴏʏᴏᴜɴɢ ɪꜱ ʏᴏᴜɴɢᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ (ᴀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ 1-2 ʏᴇᴀʀꜱ ᴏɴʟʏ)

ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 3.2ᴋ

Masterlist

Gaming at an Internet café is the perfect escape from daily pressures. With headphones on, the outside world fades, and the game's sounds ignite your passion. You revel in the arcade atmosphere, feeling joy wash away your tension.

"Yes! I'm back on top!" A rush of triumph hits as you see your name at the top of the leaderboard, a testament to weeks of skill-building. If only you could channel this drive into your job, but that thought barely registers.

"Alright! Time to head home." A glance at your phone reveals it's already one in the morning. You snap a picture of your score, post it with a cheeky caption, and drift off to sleep.

The next day, after a tough workday, you return to the café, eager to check your score. To your shock, a player named Black Cat has shattered your record in just twenty-four hours. "What?" you gasp, disbelief washing over you.

No, first place is yours.

Time slips away as you replay the game, but despite your efforts, you can't surpass Black Cat. Exhaustion sets in, but quitting isn't an option.

You analyze Black Cat's gameplay, piecing together clues like a complex puzzle, inching closer to the answer.

"I did it!" You slumped in your seat with a sigh of relief. Finally! You were at the top again. It took more time than you imagine and now it was already 2:00 a.m.. "Fuck!" Having no time to take a rest, you quickly gathered your belongings and rushed back home. You might not have realized it, but the instant you walked away, your ranking dropped again.

This occurs nearly every day, and it's worth mentioning that this pattern has persisted for a week now. Your triumphs seem to fade away all too quickly.

For you, it was a battle; but for Wooyoung, it was a funny game.

The days of campus life have come to an end, and graduation looms just a few months ahead. Wooyoung's friends were either busy with part-time jobs or off on romantic outings. He found himself feeling quite dull. Although he kept active with daily sports and bike rides, a spark of excitement eluded him.

That was, until he stumbled upon your post. Initially, he figured that a visit to an Internet café, after such a long hiatus, would be a fun way to pass the time. Little did he know that the thrill of vying for first place against you would ignite a newfound passion.

Wooyoung liked watching you struggle with the ranking. It sounded like a pervert though.

Wooyoung arrived at the internet cafe early, excited to spend the day with you. Spotting you in your favorite corner, he decided to sit beside you instead of across. As you both logged into the game, the atmosphere buzzed with excitement. Each time he won, you playfully cursed, while he seemed to predict your every move.

In a moment of distraction, you noticed him trying to suppress laughter at your setbacks, his eyes gleaming with mischief. Curious, you wondered if he was that black cat. When you pretended to head to the restroom, he immediately stopped his antics, engrossed in his phone.

Returning to your chair, you feigned disappointment and said you needed another try. Realizing you were back, Wooyoung set his phone aside and dove back into the game. Yet, you remained still, simply observing him as he played. When he glanced over at your screen, he noticed you hadn't even begun.

He feigned a cough, a clumsy attempt to divert attention while concentrating on his game. Intentionally scoring low, he aimed to project an image of a novice, yet his username betrayed him─Black Cat.

"Um… May I help you?" he stuttered, realizing you were peering at his screen.

"Oh, nothing much. I'm just curious about why you keep staring at my screen."

"Uh… um…" He fumbled for words.

"So, you're watching me play to spot my mistakes?" Your words made him glance away, clearly flustered.

"I don't mind at all." You chuckled lightly. "I just think it's impressive how you rack up such high scores."

"Really? Thanks!" A smile broke across Wooyoung's face, thrilled to finally be chatting with you. "Want to play a round together?"

"Sure! But let's mix it up a bit; playing just one game gets dull."

"Of course! How about Mario Kart?" Wooyoung suggested eagerly.

"Don't regret it. I'm good at this game." You said provocatively.

"That should be what I say."

Both of you found unprecedented happiness in this game. Not fighting for high scores anymore, but the joy of playing together. You talked about everything and nothing, from your favorite books to the latest movies, laughter filling the air between you. It felt natural, comfortable, and more importantly, genuine. As the night wore on, you realized that you could spend hours like this, just talking and getting to know each other better.

"Will you come tomorrow?" Wooyoung asked.

"Maybe not." You gathered your belongings and said. "I gotta take a rest. I'm tired."

"Then how can I find you?" Wooyoung burst out, he wanted to meet you every day. It has become his habit.

"Find me?" You smirked. "Why would you find me?"

"Um…ahh…I want to play a game with you." Wooyoung confessed.

Smiled, you nodded. "Then~what if we have a bet?" You asked, leaning back at the chair. "If I lose, I will give you my number. If you lose─""Deal."

"What? Don't you need to consider it?"

"No. What game do you want to play?" Wooyoung was already logged in the game, searching for one he would definitely win.

"Okay. Okay. You choose." You smile helplessly.

Naturally, you end up losing. Who advised him to pick a game you've never tried? But it's all good. You initially intended to share your number with him; you were just looking for some fun, so you threw out a bet instead.

"Hey, Y/N. Wanna bet?" He asked suddenly on the way to take you home. "Whoever reaches that tree first wins. The losing one must fulfill the other's wish." Before you could react to his words, he suddenly ran away with his full speed, leaving you far behind.

"You asshole!!" Of course, you lose again. You were not good at sports, especially running. "How could you run first?It's not fair!" You smacked his chest playfully, and he laughed, grabbing your hands tightly.

"So you want to run again?"

"No way!"

"And you lose~"

"Maybe you should change your name to fox." You pouted and he pulled you into his embrace, making you blush.

"You have to fulfill my wish, Y/N."

"Wh…What wish?"

"Can you go on a date with me?"

"But I won't go on a date with a jobless man."

"Fine. I will find a job." He compromised. "So will you go on a date with me?"

"To see if you work hard."

"That's not fair. I've already fulfilled one of your wishes!" Wooyoung pouted like a child.

"Is it?" You couldn't help but grin at his adorable charm, leaning in impulsively to press a kiss on his cheek. Perhaps it was a bit wild; after all, how could you kiss someone you had just met on your very first day? Yet, in that instant, all you wanted was to embrace that fleeting urge.

"Go get a job and I'll go on a date with you. That's it." You left him frozen in his place, going back to your house.

"You promise?" Wooyoung shouted.

"Promise."

—---

Initially, your plan was simple: enjoy dinner and each other's company. However, things took an unexpected turn as your relationship evolved into a whirlwind of gambling challenges. It felt like you had unwittingly walked into his trap, with every bet he suggested tilted in his favor, forcing you to comply with his whims.

But you never mind.

"Kiss me." Wooyoung leaned in close, his voice barely above a whisper, and you instinctively moved to meet him with a kiss. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders as he drew you into his warm embrace, and in that moment, the world around you faded away. The kiss was carefree, filled with sweetness and tenderness, a balm for his soul. Almost every day during lunch, he would find you and propose a playful 'bet.'

"Ten seconds have passed," you teased, breaking the kiss with a soft pop. "That's our deal."

"What if I want it to last longer?" He pressed his chest against yours, his breath warm against your lips.

"Shall we make another bet?" You tilted your head.

"Can we save that for later? I always win, so it doesn't really matter when I claim my prize, right?"

"You…"

He silenced you with a fervent kiss, a soft moan escaping as he deepened the connection, his tongue dancing with yours in a passionate rhythm.

"How can you be so intense?" you gasped, playfully patting his chest.

"I can be even more intense if that's what you want."

"No." You halted his advance by placing your hand over his mouth. "Time's up."

"You'll want more, I promise." With a quick peck on your forehead, he dashed away, leaving you breathless. "I gotta work. Bye bye~"

It's a fact. You crave something deeper than just a kiss. Yet, each time you two get lost in the moment, he pulls back. Why is that? Is it because of the nature of your relationship? You and he may not officially be a couple, but you've shared nearly all the experiences that couples do, except for that final step.

Once again, you found yourselves lost in each other on the sofa, but this time, there were no conditions or wagers. You had invited him over, yearning for his company. His left arm encircled your waist, drawing you closer, while his right hand gently cupped your face, tilting it for a kiss. As he pressed his lips against yours, his tongue slipped in, playfully teasing yours and producing a soft, intimate sound. The suddenness of his actions caught you off guard, but you quickly became entranced by the fervent embrace.

His hands roamed over your back, glided down to your thighs, and ventured to explore your most sensitive spots. And you could feel something hard sinking between your thighs;he was turned on. But, he suddenly stopped the kisses, just as usual.

"I gotta go to the toilet." Not waiting for your response, he rushed to the washroom. He twisted the faucet handle, letting the icy water cascade over his face, a desperate attempt to shake off the grip of longing. Yet, despite his efforts, his body betrayed him.

Unable to resist any longer, he freed himself from his trousers, starting to jerk off. His thoughts swirl with tantalizing fantasies, igniting a fire within him. He gasps for air as sweat beads on his brow, cascading down like tiny jewels. The vision of being enveloped by your warmth consumes him, driving him to madness. Eventually, the intensity of his cravings subsides, if only for a moment.

He gazes at the crumpled tissues in the trash, sighs heavily, and splashes water on his face before leaving the restroom. But the sight of you leaning against the wall outside shatters his composure. Your form-fitting dress highlights your curves, and your slender legs captivate him.

"Have you finished yet? I thought you…" you tease as you draw closer. Your eyes playfully wander down to his anxious gaze. With one hand resting on his chest and the other propped against the wall, your faces inch closer, breaths mingling in the air. You whisper softly, "Are you scared to have me, completely?" Your playful, innocent eyes sparkle with mischief, as your bodies pressed together, feeling the warmth of each other's breath.

"Just don't regret what you have said." "Never." He suddenly carried you in his arms, making his way to your bedroom.

With his right hand cradling your head, he kissed every inch of your body, igniting a fire within you despite the fabric between you. His hands explored your curves, lingering on your chest, leaving a tender mark. Your soft sighs fueled his desire as he pressed your bodies together, his lower half brushing against you. You surrendered as he unzipped your dress, showering your exposed breasts with kisses.

"I've wanted you for so long." He murmured while dropping kisses on your collarbone.

"Then why don't you claim me as yours?"

"I'm afraid that you will reject me." He locked his eyes with yours, full of affection. "After all, I'm younger than you."

"What's the point? I would never mind our age." You wrapped your arms around his neck. "If I mind, I won't let you kiss me, let alone fuck me."

Smiling, he claimed you into a hungry kiss. After removing your garments and putting on a condom, he settled between your thighs. The passionate make-out session was interrupted by your breathy moans as he eased into you. A hint of discomfort made you frown. "It's okay, just relax," Wooyoung murmured, cupping your face and kissing you while caressing your clit, sending waves of pleasure through you.

Tapping his shoulder as a signal to let him move, he first thrusted in and out at a slow pace but your wall kept pulling and sucking him in, driving him insane. Your moan grew louder as you arched your back against his chest, he quickly moved in and out while slapping your ass with his ball.

"Young…Youngie…Can you fuck me in doggy style? I want you deep inside me." You begged, your voice soft. He made a pause and pecked at your forehead before flipping you over suddenly, causing your head to land on the pillow.

He forcefully lifted your pelvis, pressing your buttocks against his lower body. Without waiting for your response, he thrust hard into you once again. Unlike the rapid thrusting before, it was now like a raging flood. Each insertion went as deep as possible, fiercely colliding with your soft flesh.

"Fuck!!" Wooyoung seized your hair, bumped into you and hitted your sweet spot dead on. The combination of pain and pleasure left you gasping for air, your excitement manifesting in frantic cries. He showed no signs of slowing down, thrusting with relentless speed and power, as if he were exerting every ounce of his strength.

Your moans had transformed into an intoxicating melody, more enchanting than ever before, fueling his urge to take complete control over you. The delicate dance of pain and pleasure brought tears cascading down your face. Each moan now carried a hint of sobbing, a poignant blend of ecstasy and despair. In this moment, coherent thoughts eluded you, leaving you with only broken whispers and fragmented sounds.

"Ah… young… please…slow…"

"What did you say? I can't hear you." He smirked mischievously, spanking you several times to leave red marks on your ass.

"Call me daddy and I'll let you go." Suddenly, he collided with your deepest spot, hitting it over and over again. Your limbs went weak as the numbness took over, energy was going out of your body.

"woo… young… please." "Huh? I don't want to hear that." "Hmm… daddy… Stop…" Delighted by the response, he eased his grip, gradually descending. His damp chest pressed against your back as he planted soft kisses, trailing them up to your neck, leaving a warm path of affection in his wake.

He gently brushed your tears away, his fingers weaving through your hair with care. The rhythm continued unabated as he lifted you, allowing you to settle with your back against him. His damp chest pressed against your spine, and you could feel the warmth of his breath on your skin. Turning your head, you captured his lips in a kiss, one hand tenderly cradling the back of his neck.

He met your kiss with enthusiasm, his fingers gliding gently along the inner curve of your thighs, while his other hand traveled upward, exploring every inch of your body before pausing to knead your chest.

"Can you be rough with me again?" You asked, earning a smile from him.

"Are you okay with that?" He kissed you one more time before parting from your lips.

"Yes, please."

He gently lowered you onto the bed once more, his body still pressed against your back. Supporting himself with his arms, he swiftly reentered you, his movements quick and fervent. Your body quivered with each powerful thrust, the sensation both soft and overwhelming.

He let out deep, passionate moans, reveling in the pleasure coursing through him. In turn, you responded with your own sounds of delight, completely enveloped in the blissful moment. Time seemed to slip away as you both surrendered to the intoxicating feelings, lost in a world of comfort and ecstasy.

Exhaustion began to set in as he slowed down his pace, wrapping his right arm around your waist before settling onto the bed beside you. Now he was spooning you, nudged your right leg forward, allowing his cock to delve even deeper. With a slow, gentle thrust, he peppered your neck with soft kisses, leaving you blissfully unaware of how it had become adorned with love bites.

"Youngie, I want to try something…" You trailed off, feeling shy.

"Hm?What's that?" Wooyoung sneaked his hand to your breast, teasing your nipple while leaving a trail of kisses on your neck.

"Do you know what missionary is?"

"You really have so many ideas." He let out a chuckle and flipped you over once more before you could say anything. He folded you up and supported himself with both of his hands settled on your thighs, moving in and out at a steady pace.

"A little harder… Go deeper…" you said coyly.

"Aren't you afraid of pain?" He asked.

"No…Please daddy"

Gripping your arms, he pressed his lips against yours, fiery and red, before plunging into you with the ferocity of a wild beast. This time, the intensity was unlike anything you had experienced before. The blend of pain and ecstasy escaped your lips in loud moans, mingling with the breathless utterance of his name. The bed groaned under the force of your movements, but neither of you noticed, lost in the throes of your fervent connection.

"Fuck!Fuck!Fuck!!"

Finally, you both reached climax and Wooyoung came. After the moment passed, he tenderly pressed his lips to your forehead and gave your lips a light kiss. He pulled away and settled down next to you. You nestled against his shoulder, a content smile gracing your face.

"You really gave it your all…" You weakly chuckled. Wooyoung draped his arm around you, resting his head against yours as he murmured, "Well, who was it that tempted me?" You let out a soft laugh.

"Who could possibly say no?" You exchanged warm smiles before closing your eyes, the weight of exhaustion enveloping you both.

"Can you be my girlfriend?" Wooyoung whispered in your ears. "Is it a bet or a promise?" "A promise." Smiling, he drew you into a deep kiss with all of his love.

[marysfics]

Through the Dust

Alexia Putellas x DownhillRacer!Reader

Status: Ongoing

Other Chapters: click here

This is a multichapter fic, and trust me, you’re in for one wild ride. Warnings: Fluff, Mentions of Grief, Kisses.

Word count: 3.5k

Chapter 5: ''On the Edge of Glory''

The morning of the World Cup dawned bright and sharp, the air crisp and cool against your skin as you stepped outside. A buzzing energy thrummed through you, a blend of nerves and exhilaration that only came before a big race. The trails were already lined with spectators, the cheers and murmur of anticipation rising through the crisp mountain air. Today was the day—the chance to win your first World Cup, and it was right here, in your hometown, where it all began.

But beneath the excitement, a trace of disappointment lingered. You hadn’t seen Alexia since the cemetery, and though you tried to push it aside, you couldn’t help but wish she were here. You’d even imagined spotting her in the crowd, her quiet but steady gaze holding you with that familiar warmth. Yet, there was no sign of her.

You took a deep breath, trying to shake the feeling. Today was about honoring Elena, about racing for both of you. You gave a small nod to yourself, tightening your helmet and stepping toward the starting line, focusing your mind on what you came here to do.

As you mounted your bike, the adrenaline surged, sharpening your focus. The announcer’s voice boomed, introducing each racer, and the crowd erupted in cheers. You zoned in on the first few turns, picturing each twist and jump in your mind, the rhythm of the trail like a heartbeat. You had to finish strong. For Elena. For yourself.

The countdown began—five, four, three…

And then, just as you were about to look forward, something caught your eye. In the crowd, near the edge of the track, stood Alexia. She was watching you, her gaze intense, her expression a mixture of pride and something else—a quiet encouragement that seemed to fill you with strength. Next to her, Mapi waved, cheering loudly, while Ingrid gave you an encouraging nod. The three of them stood there, a small but solid show of support, and the sight filled you with warmth.

Two… one…

The starting bell sounded, and you launched forward, your body and bike moving as one. The first few turns flew by in a blur, your focus sharp and unbreakable. Every curve, every bump felt natural, your body responding without thought, fueled by years of practice and the promise you’d made to yourself and to Elena. Each pedal felt lighter, your mind clear and calm, a steady confidence guiding you down the trail.

As you reached the midpoint, you stole a glance at the crowd just past the steepest drop. Alexia’s eyes were locked onto you, her expression a mixture of tension and admiration. The memory of her quiet strength, her silent support, spurred you on, and you tackled the next set of jumps with renewed energy, flying over the rocky terrain, feeling every ounce of her belief in you.

The final stretch loomed ahead, the trail narrowing as it wound through the trees before opening up to the finish line. This was the trickiest part—the turns sharper, the risk of slipping higher. But you could practically hear Elena’s voice in your head, steady and reassuring, pushing you forward. You tightened your grip, feeling a deep determination surge through you as you rounded the last curve and took on the final descent.

And then, in a flash, you were across the finish line. The crowd erupted in cheers, and for a heartbeat, everything felt surreal—the race, the crowd, the cheers blending together. The announcer’s voice was saying something, but you could only focus on the surge of emotion flooding through you, a mix of relief, pride, and joy.

As you dismounted, you caught sight of Alexia weaving her way through the crowd toward you. She broke into a grin as she reached you, her face lighting up with a warmth that nearly took your breath away.

“You did it!” she said, her voice bright with pride. She took a step closer, her hand reaching out to clasp yours, and in that instant, it felt as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of you.

You felt yourself smiling, a mixture of pride and happiness, as the reality of it all started to sink in. “Thank you,” you murmured, holding her gaze. “I… I think Elena was with me. I could feel her.”

Alexia’s expression softened, her hand still gripping yours tightly. “I believe she was,” she said quietly. There was a pause, and her gaze softened, a slight vulnerability flashing across her face. “I don’t know if I’ve ever met someone as strong as you. Or as determined.”

You laughed softly, shrugging. “I just had something to prove, I guess. To her. To myself.” Then, gathering the courage, you added, “And maybe… maybe to you.”

Alexia’s cheeks flushed slightly, her smile growing as she looked down, clearly caught off guard. But before she could respond, Mapi and Ingrid appeared, congratulating you enthusiastically, adding to the laughter and excitement that buzzed around you.

As Mapi and Ingrid reached you, their excitement was as infectious as it was overwhelming. The cheers and congratulations rang out around you, and you couldn’t help but feel a little shy, unused to so much attention and so many voices all focused on you. Downhill racing wasn’t exactly a spotlight sport; you were used to the solitude of the mountains, the quiet rhythm of wheels on rocky trails. But here you were, surrounded by friends—new friends—and a crowd that was just as thrilled by the win as you were.

“You were incredible!” Mapi exclaimed, giving you a friendly, almost jostling clap on the shoulder. “Fastest time of the day, fastest run in the race! How does it feel to beat everyone down the mountain?”

Ingrid smiled, nodding along. “It’s no small thing to win a World Cup, especially at those speeds. You earned this moment.”

You grinned, your cheeks still warm from the praise. “Thank you… I guess I still can’t believe it. It’s just… I’m glad all the hard work paid off.”

Mapi’s laughter was bright as she looked from you to Alexia. “Looks like you’ve got a thing for daredevils, Ale. Not that we didn’t already know.”

Alexia’s gaze softened as she looked at you, a flicker of pride and something else in her eyes, and for the first time, you noticed she wasn’t teasing you about the dangers of the sport. No talk of scraped knees, broken bones, or risk. Instead, she looked at you with something approaching awe, as if seeing the skill and determination you brought to every race—the part of you that loved the rush of speeding down a trail—had changed her view.

“You’re amazing at what you do,” she said quietly, almost to herself. “And I get it now… why you race, why you do what you do.”

Her words sent a warmth through you, making you feel seen in a way you hadn’t expected. With a nod, you murmured, “Thank you. I’m… I’m glad you could be here. And maybe now you won’t worry as much,” you added with a shy smile.

Mapi laughed again, elbowing Alexia playfully. “Oh, we know she’ll still worry. That’s just who she is.”

Ingrid leaned in, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “But now, at least, she knows you’re not just risking it all. You’ve got it handled.” Her wink was playful, but there was a kindness in her gaze that put you at ease.

As the call for the podium echoed through the crowd, you took a deep breath, readying yourself for the ceremony. It was a surreal feeling to stand there, holding the trophy for your fastest-ever race, the crowd’s applause washing over you like waves. But even with all the excitement, your gaze kept drifting back to Alexia, who stood just beyond the stage, her expression full of quiet pride, her eyes never leaving yours.

For the first time, you allowed yourself to fully absorb the weight of what you’d achieved—not just the win, but everything that had brought you to this moment: the memory of Elena, the resilience to open up, and the hope of something new, something that felt bright and promising in the way Alexia looked at you.

As you stepped down from the podium, she was there to meet you, her hand outstretched and her smile soft, steady. And as she took your hand, you felt that familiar warmth fill you, something that went beyond the adrenaline of the race or the victory itself. It was the start of something real, something you’d both found on the mountain’s edge, together.

The buzz of the award ceremony died down, and with the crowd dispersing, the mountain trails stretched before you, peaceful and quiet once more. The sun was beginning its slow descent, casting a warm glow over the peaks and valleys, bathing everything in gold.

As you walked beside Alexia, who’d stayed close to you all afternoon, she glanced over with a thoughtful look. “You know, you just won a World Cup race. Shouldn’t you be off celebrating?” Her smile was warm, teasing, but there was a hint of genuine curiosity behind it.

You felt your cheeks warm, and you looked down, rubbing the back of your neck. “I don’t… I don’t really have a lot of people to celebrate with,” you admitted softly. “My family couldn’t make it today, and, well, I don’t have a ton of friends here. Or really… anywhere.” You gave a small, self-conscious laugh, still not used to being so open about yourself. “So… I’d rather spend time with you, if you’re up for it.”

Alexia’s expression softened, and you caught a glimpse of something in her eyes—understanding, maybe, or perhaps just that quiet empathy she seemed to show at all the right moments. “I’d like that,” she said, her voice gentle, as if she could sense the vulnerability in your words. “But don’t think you’ll get away with not celebrating. Just because it’s quiet doesn’t mean it shouldn’t be special.”

Her words brought a shy smile to your face, and you felt a surge of gratitude for her presence, her openness. And though you’d spent countless hours on these trails, showing her felt different. Meaningful.

You led her up a narrow path that wound higher into the mountains, past pine trees swaying softly in the evening breeze. The trail was peaceful, familiar, each curve and incline etched into your memory from years of practice and exploration. Alexia kept pace beside you, her expression curious, occasionally glancing over as if taking in the surroundings through your eyes.

After a while, you reached a small clearing, a favorite spot of yours, where the view opened up to the sprawling valley below, framed by distant peaks. You paused, glancing back at her. “This is one of my favorite places up here. It’s quiet… and the view is just…” You trailed off, feeling a bit shy again, realizing you hadn’t shown this spot to anyone in a very long time.

Alexia took a few steps forward, taking in the view with a kind of awe that made you see it all over again yourself. She glanced at you, her eyes bright. “It’s beautiful,” she murmured, her gaze lingering on you before drifting back to the mountains.

As you both stood there, a comfortable silence settled between you. After a moment, Alexia’s voice broke the quiet. “I know what it’s like to feel a bit… alone,” she admitted, her voice low. “Even with people around, it’s not always easy to find someone who understands what drives you. Who sees you for who you really are.”

Her words settled over you, filling the air between you with a quiet understanding, and you nodded, letting your gaze drift over the valley. “Sometimes it’s easier to be alone on the trails than trying to explain why I do this. It’s like I can be myself out here, without having to fit into anyone else’s idea of who I should be.”

Alexia gave a thoughtful nod, her eyes never leaving you. “It suits you,” she said quietly. “This place. The mountains, the way you move out here… it all feels like you belong.”

The simple truth in her words filled you with a warmth that eased some of the weight in your chest. Here, standing beside her, you felt understood in a way that didn’t need further explanation.

For a long while, you both stood in that golden light, watching the valley below, letting the peaceful quiet sink in. You found yourself glancing at her, noticing the way her expression had softened, her usual intensity replaced by something gentler, more open.

You continued to lead Alexia through the winding mountain trails, your heart still light from the shared moment at the clearing. The air had turned cooler as the evening stretched on, and the quiet between you felt like an unspoken understanding. The distant sound of the wind through the trees was the only thing that filled the space, and for once, you didn’t feel the need to fill the silence with words.

Eventually, the trail began to narrow, twisting up toward the ridge, and you knew that you were nearing your next destination. You glanced at Alexia, a shy smile tugging at your lips. “There’s one more place I want to show you,” you said softly. “It’s just a little further.”

She nodded, her curiosity piqued. “Lead the way,” she said, her voice light, but you could see the warmth in her gaze, a quiet invitation to keep going. You felt a small surge of relief at her easy willingness to follow, and so you pushed forward.

After a short while, the trail opened up to reveal a small wooden cabin tucked away in a small clearing, almost hidden by the trees. It was simple but sturdy, a place you’d come to call your own in the mountain’s solitude. The cabin had been there for as long as you could remember, tucked away for quiet moments when the outside world felt too loud, too overwhelming. It wasn’t much—just a small bed, a few shelves filled with old bike parts, and a workbench cluttered with tools and projects you’d been tinkering with over the years. The place was full of memories, both comforting and bittersweet.

“This is where I come when… I need space,” you explained, your voice quiet as you stopped in front of the cabin. You opened the weathered door, revealing the inside, a little dim with the fading light outside. “I built this place myself, little by little. It’s where I come when I don’t want anyone to find me. Or when I just need to think.”

Alexia stepped inside behind you, her eyes scanning the room, taking in the scattered bike parts, the worn workbench covered in tools, and the small bed pushed against the far wall. You couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious, like you were letting her into a part of yourself you hadn’t shown anyone in a long time.

“It’s… kind of like a sanctuary,” you murmured, closing the door behind her. “I keep my bikes here, work on them when I need to get away from everything. It’s quiet. No distractions.”

Alexia moved slowly through the cabin, her fingers grazing over the old bike frames stacked against the walls, a thoughtful expression on her face. “I can see why you like it,” she said, her voice low, as if she was respecting the space, understanding its significance. ''It feels like it holds pieces of you. Like every bike has a story.”

You nodded, leaning against the doorframe, watching her. “They do. Some are from races that didn’t go as planned. Some are from victories—like the one today.” You smiled softly at that, feeling the weight of the win settle over you. “They all remind me of what it means to keep going. To find peace, even when things feel like they’re falling apart.”

Alexia turned back to you, her gaze soft. “It’s beautiful, the way you’ve created something like this, just for you. I get it. Sometimes, we all need a place where we can just breathe.”

You smiled at her words, feeling a warmth spread through you, though you couldn’t quite put your finger on what it was. Maybe it was the way she seemed to understand you without needing to ask a million questions. Or maybe it was the simple fact that she was here, sharing this part of your world with you.

“I built it for the quiet,” you said, stepping further into the cabin. “For when the world feels too loud, or when I don’t know where to go. Sometimes it helps to just have a place to be... without any expectations.”

Alexia nodded, looking around at the cabin again before her gaze returned to you. “I think everyone needs a space like that,” she said thoughtfully. “A place to be yourself, without feeling like you’re performing or trying to be someone else.”

You felt your chest tighten slightly, her words landing deeper than you expected. It was true—there was something about being here, in this cabin, that allowed you to be raw and unguarded, free from the expectations of the outside world. And for the first time in a long while, it didn’t feel like you were hiding.

Alexia’s words hung in the air, the quiet warmth of the cabin wrapping around you both. You felt a flutter in your chest at her sincerity, the weight of the moment settling in. She smiled softly, her eyes glinting in the dim light. "It’s nice. Real. And I think it says a lot about you."

You barely had time to process the meaning behind her words when, without any warning, Alexia took a small step forward. Her gaze shifted from your eyes to your lips, and in that heartbeat, everything slowed. Before you could say anything, she leaned in and kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed, not hurried. It was soft and lingering, almost like she was testing the waters, like she wanted to see how you'd respond. For a brief moment, you were caught off guard—your mind racing, trying to catch up with the sudden shift in the air between you—but then, you let go of that hesitation. You let your body relax into the feeling of her lips against yours, the warmth of the kiss grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected.

You could feel the gentle pressure of her hand on your shoulder, her fingers soft against the fabric of your jacket. Your heart was beating faster now, but it didn’t feel nervous—it felt… right.

As you kissed her back, you moved closer, your hands finding their way to her waist, pulling her in just a little bit more. The moment deepened, a quiet exchange of unspoken emotions, and you finally let yourself feel fully present. It wasn’t awkward. It wasn’t something to overthink. You just let it happen, let the connection between you both unfold in a way that felt more natural than anything else.

You could feel the way her body relaxed into yours, the subtle warmth of her chest against yours, the quiet sigh she let out as she pulled back slightly. Her eyes were still closed for a second as if she was savoring the moment, and you couldn’t help but smile softly when she opened them and looked at you.

“Sorry, I—” she began, but you cut her off gently.

“Don’t be,” you murmured, still holding her close, your voice steady and sure now. “I’m not.”

She smiled, her breath coming out in a soft exhale. “Good. Because… I think that felt right.”

You nodded, your hand still resting on her waist, not wanting to let go just yet. “Yeah, it did.”

The world outside felt far away now—there was no rush, no expectations. Just the two of you in the quiet of the cabin, the fading light casting shadows on the walls, and the soft hum of the mountain air.

For once, you weren’t trying to figure anything out. You weren’t worrying about what it all meant or what was coming next. You were just here. In this moment. With her.

"Thanks for showing me this place," Alexia said, her voice low, a softness to it that made your heart skip. "It’s like… I can see more of you now. And I like it."

You smiled, feeling a warmth spread across your chest, like something had clicked into place. “I’m glad you’re here.”

Her smile was easy, her gaze steady, and for the first time in a long while, you felt like you didn’t need to have all the answers. Maybe you’d figure it out together. Maybe you didn’t have to know anything other than that this moment was real, and it felt like the start of something good.

And with that, you leaned in again, this time with less hesitation, as if you both knew that sometimes, the best things didn’t need to be complicated.

----------------------------------------------------------

End of chapter 5.

[forusomimiya]

@sunasjellyfruit ship & prompt: “Beg for it” w/ Rintaro Suna ˚₊˚✧🦊✧˖°📱

It all started with a brief flirt at the bar.

"Ready for another round?" he asked, tapping his glass on the bar and turning to you expectantly. You laughed nervous, not least because of the simple fact of wondering how much more alcohol this guy could handle.

"I should go" you finally said, hoping for his persistence, or that he'd be disappointed with your excuse. He gave you a pout. You laughed, and he smirked back at you, stretching the two pierced rings at the ends of his lower lip.

"I'll miss seeing you around here again" he said in a sad tone. He was clearly too drunk to think that. So, you looked at him, as if you could see through him, or as if you could read his mind or figure out what would happen a few hours from now. During the course of the night you both discovered how well connected and complicit you were. For you it would clearly be a shame to let this guy go, either as a friendship, or as a one-night hook-up. You wanted to stay, but you also hoped that he would do his best to bring out of himself the courage you were hoping to see and make you stay. Something like a proof of the interest that, -you could clearly tell by the way he looked at you, laughed, or talked, not to mention the cheeky glances at your cleavage-, he had for you, whether it was physical or mental.

Nervous and excited, you bit your lip a couple of times as you thought about what to do. Then, the bastard blurted out his best line:

"Don´t bite your lip, doll. That´s my job".

The heat rose to your cheeks in a tenth of a second and the hairs on your skin bristle. A shiver ran up and down your spine, leaving you paralysed on the bar counter. How were you going to deal with that now? Would it be weird wanna grab him by the collar of his shirt and pull him close to you to kiss him right there and then? Or worse, what the hell was going to happen next?

What happened was exactly what you both wanted from the first glance you exchanged.

"Beg for it, bunny. 'm not gonna let ya sit on my face until you ask me properly" You weren't there to beg for nothing. You'd been horny since you got on his bike on the way home and he let you touch him in the lift.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I'm not going to beg for anything" You undressed, letting him take care of your underwear, and climbed onto the bed, positioning yourself almost level with his face, just enough to watch as he stared at you in surprise, his mouth half open and a playful smile on his lips.

His hands already went to work on your panties, pushing them aside to instinctively run his fingertips over your entrance and caress it, wetting his fingers. Your breathing increased each time his middle finger teased you, making you think he was going to enter and touch you until you were wet enough for his cock to replace his fingers. The truth is, you could already feel the bulge of his cock as you let yourself fall back, trying to get him to finger you.

"Do you see how hard you’ve already made me?" He lifted his hips and bounced his cock in your ass a couple of times, enjoying the sight of your face almost sobbing at the little touch, desperate to feel him inside you, distracting you again with your lip. "no no, what did I say about biting your lip?" He took your face and pulled you to him, kissing you. His lips were soft, sweet and warm. They separated slightly, letting your tongue slip inside a couple of times before parting from you. The rings in his lip were an easy distraction to play with, but his tongue was better. You let out a low mewl as he nibbled on your lip, pulling away from you. "Now, i want you in my mouth".

You nodded, obediently. You moved up a little higher and saw him down there, opening your inner thighs to stand between them, with his short strands hair tickling you. The tip of his nose was almost touching your entrance and his tongue teased, surprising you.

"C´mon, bunny. I haven't heard you beg yet".

[cre8inghavoc]

Can't help it...

Part 7

inumaki x f!reader

pairing: inumaki x f!reader

summary: Transferring to a new school is tough, but having your three best friends there makes it easier. Things get even more interesting when you start falling for the mysterious boy who rides his motorcycle to school every day. What will happen next?

genre/warnings: [18+] Characters are aged up. Story contains cursing, new friends, alcohol, college!au, no curse!au, dark humour, SMAU and written parts, fluff, smut.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TOGE INUMAKI <3

“Survived the ride?”

You smirked, quickly pulling off your helmet. “Barely.”

“Not bad then”

You rolled your eyes, climbing off the bike. “I told you I could handle it.”

Inumaki nodded, still amused. “Yeah, you did.”

You just stood there, unsure of what came next.

“So,” you started, trying to sound casual despite the lingering energy between you, “is this the part where I walk back to my friends and pretend like everything’s normal?”

Inumaki’s eyes glinted with amusement. “Do you want it to be?”

You raised an eyebrow, feeling that spark of competitiveness return. “Not sure I do.”

He stepped a little closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “Then maybe we keep them guessing a little longer.”

“Guess we will.”

“Good.” He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “Let them wonder.”

You felt the familiar flutter in your chest but pushed it aside, giving him a quick, playful shove on the shoulder. “You’re impossible.”

He just grinned, unfazed by your teasing. “Wouldn’t be fun if I wasn’t.”

You laughed softly, shaking your head. “Alright, I’ll see you around,” you said, starting to walk away before turning back for one last look.

Inumaki watched you for a moment, his smirk softening into something more genuine. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “You will.”

As you made your way back to where Nobara, Yuji, and Megumi were sitting, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of their stares. Nobara was the first to speak up, grinning like she already knew what had happened.

“Well, well, well,” she teased, leaning forward. “How was your little adventure?”

Yuji tried to hide his excitement, but it was all over his face. “Yeah, you gonna tell us where he took you, or do we have to keep guessing?”

Megumi just glanced at you with a knowing nod, clearly aware of the back-and-forth between you and Inumaki without needing to ask.

You shrugged, doing your best to act casual, though you could feel your heart still racing from everything. “It’s nothing. Just a ride. No big deal.”

Nobara raised an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. “Sure, just a ride,” she echoed, exchanging amused glances with Yuji.

You gave her a playful glare. “Seriously. That’s all.”

Yuji leaned back, still grinning. “If you say so.”

You sat down, trying to ignore the way your friends were looking at you, but your mind kept drifting back to Inumaki—his teasing, his smirk, and that moment where you thought he might’ve kissed you. Even though you hadn’t said it out loud, part of you knew that things between you two weren’t as simple as just a ride.

Nobara nudged you with her elbow, bringing you back to reality. “Hey, you’re blushing.”

You rolled your eyes, trying to brush it off. “Am not.”

She just laughed, clearly enjoying how flustered you were. “Whatever you say.”

You crossed your arms, leaning back in your chair as you tried to regain some composure. But even with all the teasing from your friends, you couldn’t help but smile to yourself. Let them guess. After all, it seemed like you and Inumaki had only just begun whatever this was.

The past few days had been different. You and Inumaki were getting closer, spending more time together, and everything felt like it was moving in the right direction—until Alyssa, one of the popular girls, decided to stick her nose where it didn’t belong. Alyssa was the kind of girl who craved attention, always surrounded by a group of equally obnoxious friends, feeding off the admiration from everyone around her. She knew she was hot, and she used it to her advantage—flirting, posting suggestive photos, and constantly making it known that she was at the top of the social chain.

She wasn’t just popular; she was the kind of mean girl who lived for drama, using people like props to keep herself in the spotlight. You’d seen her flirt with Inumaki before, but it never really bothered you. That was just who she was—an attention-seeker, desperate to stay relevant. But today was different. Today, Alyssa had crossed a line.

It was lunchtime when your phone buzzed, pulling you out of the conversation with Nobara, Yuji, and Megumi. You glanced down and felt your heart sink. The school’s notorious Twitter drama page had posted a photo—of Inumaki and Alyssa.

In the picture, Alyssa was standing right next to him by his bike, leaning in as if she was kissing his cheek, but instead, it was the side of his helmet. The caption read: “Spotted! Is our mystery biker off the market? Alyssa sure seems close to him. 👀”

Your stomach dropped, a wave of anger and hurt crashing over you. How could he let this happen? You thought Inumaki and you were growing closer, but now you were staring at a picture of him and Alyssa—her, of all people—acting like they were something more. Alyssa’s smug, flirty pose made it worse, like she knew exactly what she was doing.

How could he let her get so close? The post made it look like they were a couple, and the worst part was that it felt believable. All this time, you thought there was something special between you and Inumaki, but now... did he even care? How could he do this? Did he like the attention? Was this what he wanted all along? The thought made your chest ache. You couldn’t believe he would let Alyssa—someone who lived for drama—kiss his helmet and let the whole school think they were together.

Maybe this was what he wanted all along. The idea twisted painfully in your stomach. What if you’d been misreading everything? What if all those moments you spent together—laughing, teasing, the almost-kiss—were just part of some game for him? What if you were just a placeholder for Alyssa?

You wanted to believe it was just a stupid photo, but the longer you looked at it, the harder it became to ignore. Was he using you? Maybe Inumaki had been playing you all this time, just waiting for the right moment to get with Alyssa—the hot, popular girl who thrived on attention. After all, she was the kind of girl everyone noticed, the kind that could easily draw someone in.

You clenched your phone, trying to push down the hurt, but it was impossible. The betrayal stung too much.

Was it all a lie...?

Nobara’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts. “Y/N, are you okay? You’ve been staring at your phone for like five minutes.”

You looked up, your face burning with a mix of hurt and embarrassment. “Yeah,” you muttered, forcing a smile. “Just... saw something.”

Yuji glanced at you, concerned. “You sure? You look kinda upset.”

You nodded, trying to hold it together, but the anger was simmering just beneath the surface. “I’m fine,” you lied, grabbing your bag and standing up quickly. “I just need some air.”

Before any of your friends could stop you, you walked out of the cafeteria, the weight of the photo and your suspicions pressing down on you. The thought of Inumaki and Alyssa being together, of him playing you this whole time, was too much to bear.

You avoided Inumaki for the rest of the day, dodging his glances in class, ignoring his texts, and walking past him without so much as a word. He had no idea what was going on, and part of you was relieved. You didn’t want to face him—not when your mind was filled with thoughts of him and Alyssa, together, laughing at how easily they had fooled you.

After your last class, you grabbed your things and headed for the exit, keeping your head low. But as you stepped outside, you saw him—Inumaki, standing by his bike, waiting for you like he always did. His helmet dangled from his hand, and he looked up as soon as you walked out.

“Y/N!” he called out, his voice carrying over the crowd.

You quickened your pace, pretending not to hear him, but Inumaki wasn’t one to let things go so easily. He jogged after you, catching up quickly.

“What’s going on? Why are you ignoring me?” he asked, genuine confusion in his voice.

You stopped but didn’t turn to face him. “I don’t want to talk right now, Toge.”

Inumaki frowned, stepping closer. “Is this about something from class? Did something happen?”

You swallowed hard, keeping your back to him. “It’s not about class.”

“Then what is it?” His voice sounded more frustrated now, but there was still a hint of concern. “You’ve been avoiding me all day.”

Before you could answer, Yuji’s car pulled up in the parking lot. Relief washed over you. “I have to go,” you muttered, walking toward the car.

“Y/N, wait—” Inumaki started, reaching out for you, but you pulled away, not wanting to hear whatever excuse he had. You walked straight to the car, climbed into the passenger seat, and slammed the door shut.

Yuji glanced at you, clearly confused. “Uh, everything okay?”

You forced a nod, staring straight ahead. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

As Yuji pulled out of the lot, you caught a glimpse of Inumaki standing there, staring at you as you drove away, confusion and hurt written all over his face. You ignored the gnawing feeling in your chest, forcing yourself to believe that he had done this to you—that he had chosen Alyssa over you.

Yuji glanced over at you as he drove, his eyebrows furrowing with concern. “So... did something happen?”

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, not wanting to talk about it. The last thing you needed was to break down in front of Yuji. You shook your head, keeping your eyes focused on the road ahead. “It’s nothing.”

Yuji wasn’t convinced. “Really? Because Inumaki always takes you home after school, and today you asked me. That doesn’t really scream ‘nothing,’ you know.”

His words hit you, making it harder to keep the walls up. You clenched your hands into fists on your lap, trying to stop the wave of emotions from spilling out. “It’s just... complicated, okay?”

Yuji hesitated for a moment, the air between you thick with unspoken tension. “Look,” he started slowly, “I saw the post. The one on the school’s drama page.” He kept his eyes on the road, his voice steady but gentle. “I didn’t want to bring it up because I figured if you wanted to talk about it, you would. But... you don’t have to pretend with me.”

You swallowed hard, your chest tightening. He’d seen it. Of course he had—everyone probably had by now. And here you were, sitting next to one of your closest friends, who already knew everything but didn’t push you.

Your voice was small when you finally spoke. “You saw it?”

Yuji nodded, his expression soft but filled with concern. “Yeah. I didn’t want to believe it would upset you like this, but... I mean, I get it. If I were in your shoes, I’d be pissed too.”

You bit your lip, feeling the weight of everything pressing down on you. It felt like too much to hold inside. “It’s just... I thought I meant something to him, you know?” Your voice cracked slightly. “And then I see that, and... it feels like he doesn’t care at all.”

Yuji glanced over at you, his voice gentle. “Hey, I’m sure it’s not like that. You and Inumaki, there’s something there. I can see it. That post doesn’t change what you two have.”

You shook your head, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. “Then why didn’t he stop her, Yuji? Why did he let her do that? I don’t even know what’s real anymore.”

Yuji sighed softly, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. “I don’t know why he didn’t stop it... but I do know he wouldn’t do anything to hurt you on purpose.” He paused, his voice quieter. “Inumaki’s not that kind of guy.”

You didn’t respond, your chest tightening as you tried to swallow back the hurt. It was comforting to hear Yuji’s words, but it didn’t erase the betrayal you felt. The photo was burned into your mind, and it hurt to think that maybe you were wrong about Inumaki.

Why do I care? Why should I? I mean yeah i've been hanging out with him like everyday but we're just... friends. Nothing more...

So why...?

Why does it hurt...

After a few moments of silence, Yuji glanced at you again, his voice softer. “You know... it’s okay to feel hurt. But don’t let this one thing define everything. Maybe give him a chance to explain?”

You stayed silent, staring out the window, your thoughts racing. Yuji’s words made sense, but your emotions were still raw, still tangled. Could you even face Inumaki right now? And if you did, would it change anything?

When you finally arrived home, Yuji pulled into the driveway and turned off the engine, glancing over at you. “If you need to talk... I’m here,” he said gently. “No pressure. Just... don’t bottle it all up, okay?”

You nodded, giving him a small, appreciative smile. “Thanks, Yuji. I... I just need to think right now.”

He smiled softly, understanding. “I get it. But don’t be a stranger, alright? We’ll hang out soon.”

You opened the door and stepped out, the cool air hitting your skin. As you made your way to the front door, you heard Yuji’s car pull away, but the weight of everything that had happened still lingered heavily on your shoulders.

You were just about to unlock the door when your phone buzzed in your pocket again. With a sigh, you pulled it out and saw another message from Inumaki.

Inumaki: Y/N, I really need to talk to you. Please.

You stared at the screen, your heart aching. You wanted to hear him out, but at the same time, the pain of that photo was too raw. The anger, the jealousy, the hurt—it all kept you from replying. You shoved your phone back into your pocket, ignoring the message again.

Hours passed, and the night fell quietly around you. You had been tossing and turning in bed, unable to sleep as your mind replayed everything from the day. You couldn’t get the image of Inumaki and Alyssa out of your head, and every time you closed your eyes, the same questions surfaced. Why didn’t he stop her? Why didn’t he tell her off right away?

Suddenly, there was a soft knock on your window, making you freeze. Your heart skipped a beat, and you hesitated for a moment before cautiously walking over to check. When you pulled the curtains aside, your eyes widened in shock.

Inumaki was standing outside your window—on the small roof that jutted out beneath it. He looked up at you, balancing easily on the narrow ledge, his expression serious and determined.

Your heart raced as you quickly unlocked the window and slid it open, staring at him in disbelief. “Toge? What the hell are you doing? How did you even get up there?”

He glanced down at the roof and then back up at you, his voice low but calm. “I climbed up.. I needed to talk to you.”

You stared at him, still in shock. “You climbed up here? Are you crazy?” You quickly glanced around, nervous that someone might see him. “What are you doing?”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair, clearly frustrated. “I needed to talk to you. Can I come in? I don’t want to wake the neighbors.”

You hesitated, your mind still racing. Why did he come here like this? After a few seconds, you sighed, stepping back and waving him inside. “Fine. Just come in before someone sees you.”

Inumaki carefully climbed through the window, landing softly on the floor of your room. The tension between you two was immediate, his eyes locking onto yours as he stood there.

Your heart was still pounding as you watched him stand in your room, the weight of his presence making the small space feel even smaller. You couldn’t shake the shock of seeing him climb up to your window like that, but the simmering anger you had been holding onto all day was quick to return.

“You climbed up here in the middle of the night just to talk?” you asked, your voice sharp, trying to keep your emotions in check. “You couldn’t just text me?”

Inumaki took a step closer, his expression serious. “You weren’t answering. I didn’t know what else to do. I had to see you.”

“What do you want?” you muttered, turning away from him.

“I just want to talk,”

“Well, I don’t want to talk to you.”

“Y/N, please. I don’t know why you’re so mad, but I need to explain—”

“I don’t want to hear what you have to say!” you cut him off, spinning around to face him, anger flaring up in your chest. “I don’t care about your explanations. I don’t want to talk to you right now, Toge!”

Inumaki’s eyes widened slightly, caught off guard by your sudden outburst. “You’re not even giving me a chance to explain—”

“Because I don’t want to listen!” you snapped, taking a step back. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. I don’t care about anything you have to say!”

He took a deep breath, clearly struggling to keep calm, but his frustration was building. “Y/N, I didn’t—”

“Just stop. I said I don’t want to hear it!” You turned away again, your arms still crossed tightly as if you were trying to keep everything from spilling out. “Actually... just leave, Inumaki. I don’t want to deal with this.”

Inumaki stepped closer, his voice low and pleading. “Please, Y/N. Just let me explain. It’s not what you think.”

“God. I don’t care!” you shouted, spinning back around, your eyes burning with frustration. “I don’t care about what you have to say. You let Alyssa kiss your helmet. You let her act like you’re together, and now the whole school thinks you two have something going on!”

The words tumbled out of your mouth, each one sharper than the last. Inumaki took off his mask for the first time since the night you spent together, and you could see this jaw tighten, his hands balling into fists at his sides. The tension between you was unbearable.

“I didn’t let her do anything!” he suddenly shouted, his voice ringing out in the quiet room, startling you. “It caught me off guard! I didn’t want her to kiss my helmet—I told her off right after!”

You froze, the force of his words catching you off guard. His eyes were blazing with frustration and something else—something deeper. You had never seen him like this before, so angry, so desperate to make you understand. But the hurt inside you was still too fresh.

“You expect me to believe that?” you spat, your voice shaking with a mix of hurt and fury. “You stood there, and you let her get close to you. You didn’t push her away. You let her make a fool out of me!”

He ran a hand through his hair, clearly exasperated. “I didn’t let her make a fool out of you! I didn’t even see it coming, Y/N. She just—did it.”

You turned away, trying to distance yourself from him, your emotions threatening to overwhelm you. “I don’t want to hear it,” you muttered. “I just want you to leave.”

Inumaki stepped forward, his hand reaching your bare shoulder. “I’m not leaving. I told you, I didn’t want her to do it. I care about you, not her.”

You shook your head, refusing to look at him. “Then why didn’t you stop her? Why didn’t you tell me afterward? I had to find out from some stupid Twitter post.”

“I should have told you,” Inumaki admitted, his voice softer but still filled with frustration. “But I didn’t think she’d turn it into this whole thing. I didn’t want to make it a big deal because it didn’t mean anything. She means nothing to me, Y/N. You do.”

His words made your heart ache, but you were still too angry to let them sink in. “How can I believe you after what I saw?” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

He stepped closer, moving your hair to the side, his breath hitting the back of your neck. “Because I’m telling you the truth. I would never let anyone come between us. Not her, not anyone.”

He runs his hand down your shoulder to your arm and back up slowly.

"Actually... you know what Inumaki..."

a/n:

whoopsieeee i may have ended this on a small cliff hanger... hehe

sorryyyy

but this was so fun to write i know i said ill be more active recently but its sooo hard to be active with too many things going on at once. i apologize!

@madaqueue @mikko-mikko @arabella0001 @swarachxle @s3ns4ti0n4l @jdgfsgdgdvf @tomikixd @arabella0001 @emotionalasf @unofficialsapphire

[orshii]

Limitless (through the night)

Author: orshii

Pairing: biker! Choi San x female reader

Warnings: cursing, brief mention of death

Word count: 11,5 k

Summary: You have broken the rules, again. The punishment? You’re moving in with your father, sent back to your hometown which you had grown to be a stranger to. What happens when old affairs return in the form of Choi San? The only guy you wished to forever avoid, the guy who was a menace and always knew which buttons to push.

Will he put aside your differences and help you out when you get in trouble again?

A/N: Wow, I guess I'm here again...Ever since I saw these pictures of San, I'm obsessed with it, so a story kinda popped out of my mind lol. Like, I'll just never get over biker San pls, he drives me crazy, and I don't like it (lie). Anyways, thank you for my talented bestie @bvidzsoo for helping me a lot. I'm really a newbie to this whole writing and Tumblr world so, ly bestie hehet. Please, enjoy! I'mma be back soon, with a Hongjoong series too, lmao. Okay, byee, xoxo, orshii. (divider)

Moving to a new place could excite you due to all the new opportunities coming your way, alongside with new people, which may become your new friends.

In my case it wasn't like this. I was moving back to my hometown, which I have left almost ten years ago, leaving behind my father and all the people who I was once close with.

Now, I'm on my way back to my father, back to the house where we once were a happy family. My mother left my father, because it seemed like my father cheated on her. But the actual truth was that she just wanted to escape from this little town. She had no opportunities here, so she just blamed everything on him to have a reason to leave this shitty little town behind, alongside with me. I was only 10 years old, I did not understand back then what the hell was happening, so I just went with her. We moved to a bigger city, which was full with people. I never liked it, I hate crowds, I hate how the city is full with life.

After a while, my mother met someone and he was rich, so, we moved into a bigger house, which looked like a castle. I did not like it; I like simple things. I liked our old house, where the walls were cracked like a river spreading through the map. It was beautiful in its own way.

So why am I going back again to my hometown? I look to my left, where my mother is driving. She looked tired and mad; she was continuously frowning while she was driving. Maybe she was thinking about how she could bring a child like me into this world. Of course, I was the cause of going back to my hometown. It was my punishment.

 I'm going to be honest, lying isn’t something I do often. Since I was little, I adored motorcycles. They are so beautifully shaped and their sound is simply music to my ears. I love watching them through the TV, the bikers riding their fancy motorcycles and competing against each other, going in circles like Formula 1 cars on the circuits.

 My dad had owned an old Yamaha, it was beautiful. He noticed that I adored it, and so, he taught me everything about motorbikes; which part of the bike belongs where, he even taught me how to repair some broken parts. That was the moment I fell in love with motorbikes. I could not wait until I grew up and finally got my license. I had one purpose in life, and that was it.

And after a lot of patience, I finally got my license, but I had no motorbike. This became my next goal. To buy a bike. I succeeded doing that too, and I was proud of myself.

I looked back, where my beautiful matte black Yamaha R6 was tied safely onto the trailer. After I bought Toothless—I have named it that—I naturally joined a motorbike gang and slowly got into the world of racing. But these were illegal affairs, illegal races. You’d rarely get caught, so I didn’t worry about it. But one day I made a very bad mistake and I was left to face the cops. I was alone, the others—whom I considered my friends—left me there, letting me face the repercussions all on my own. As soon as my mother got me out of the police station and we got home, she started packing my things, saying 'You're moving in with your father.' My opinion did not matter, it was settled, and I just needed to obey. I did not care about anything at that point, so I just went with it without a word. Since that incident I did not want to make any friends, I did not trust people anymore, not even my mother. She betrayed me by sending me back to our hometown, treating me like I was a nobody to her. I never felt like I belonged anywhere, I am used of being passed around by others.

As soon as we drove through the streets of my hometown, little memories started resurfacing and I smiled. It was good to be back, to be honest, I have always loved this area. I never actually wanted to leave it behind, I just really had no choice but to do otherwise.

When we finally arrived to the house where we had once lived, a whirlwind of emotions hit me like a truck. My father stepped out from his car service, wiping his oily hands onto a used black cloth, which was once white. He looked tired and worried, mimicking the same expressions reflected on my mother’s face.

I stepped out from the car, looking around a little bit. Nothing has changed since I had last been here, and that was a long time ago. We never came back after the separation, my father used to visit us when he had the time, but it was rare, and our relationship went from having a happy father-daughter connection, to a shallow 'How's school? Good.' connection.

As I looked around, my parents were talking quietly just so I wouldn’t overhear them, but I knew they were talking about me. They were talking, and then suddenly my mother was moving, giving me a kiss on my cheek and saying 'Don't get into any trouble', leaving me there like I was an abandoned cat, handed back to the streets because it kept causing trouble. She chose the easier way, passing me into the hands of my father.

I pushed my bike into the garage and covered it with a blanket, I did not want Toothless to be dusty from all the dirt flying around the air. My dad showed me around the house acting as if I was there for the first time. I stepped inside my old room; everything was just how I had left it. The old drawing in which I had drawn our once happy family, and even my little pink shoes, which I had cried about leaving behind accidentally. Everything was the same, except me.

I got enrolled into the local University. I wanted to learn still as I had nothing to do; I needed to keep my mind busy. As I was headed to the new University on my bike, I felt anxiety crawling up through my body. I never liked new places, and besides, this was a little town, everyone knew everyone. And so, I was the new girl in town to them. The girl who came back after years of being gone. I don't really think anybody is actually aware of who am I. I had changed.

I arrived to the parking lot of the university, and cut the engine of Toothless. I sighed before I got off my bike, taking off my raven black helmet with red lines on it. My anxiety had finally crawled through my body, managing to reach my mind and thoughts, clouding them and keeping me locked in, not letting me go for even a second. My thoughts had always been my biggest enemy. Overthinking made me feel anxious about even the littlest things. It wasn’t good as this influenced my behavior, all the time. I tried to gather myself, not having noticed that somebody was watching me.

"Princess is back in town and has a little motorcycle, I see." I jumped at the sudden deep voice coming from behind me.

I turned around and saw a very familiar looking, handsome, guy in front of me, but I did not remember his name. He was smirking at me, his eyes sharp like a knife, glaring at me like he was a predator and I was his prey. He was wearing a black hoodie that hugged his broad shoulders perfectly, with black shorts that reached his knees, pairing with red Jordans.

"And who are you?" I asked frowning; I really did not know him, he looked familiar, but I could not place a name to his face.

He just tilted his head, looking at me sharper than before, "You don't remember me? I'm Choi San."

He was frowning his thick eyebrows, a little cut in his left eyebrow making his glare more intense.

Choi San, the mayor's son. Now I knew who he was, and I did not fucking like him. He was always the annoying rich kid from school, always stuck-up, acting all-mighty due to his family being rich. And he didn’t like me either anymore. At the beginning we were friends, but then shit started happening at home—my parents arguing constantly, not even noticing me anymore—and so, I closed myself off, not wanting to befriend anyone. I was just a child, my parents constantly arguing was a big enough trauma for me to stop caring about other things. So, I pushed San away, who, I assume, took it to heart since he started hating me and acting like a total jackass, not letting me live. It was like that until I left my hometown, leaving everyone behind.

"Oh, well then, I don't care." I said while grabbing my helmet from my bike and turning around to leave. I did not have the energy for this arrogant prick, he didn’t change at all, I could tell by his one little sentence.

He laughed, "Princess is mad, huh? Is that a Yamaha R1?"

He had asked while pointing at my bike, not letting me leave quite yet.

I sighed and turned around looking at him annoyed, "No, it's an R6."

My answer was short and snappy.

"That's from one of the newest series. I bet you begged on your knees your rich stepfather to buy it for you." He laughed sarcastically, and it sounded like an engine that needed an oil change. I sneered at the thought.

It hurt, it hurt because he didn’t know how many days I didn’t sleep because I had shift after shift, working my ass off. My stepfather and mother didn’t want to buy me a bike, actually they hated just the idea of it, but I didn’t care, so I took as many jobs as I could, and after three years of hard work, I finally get to buy this beauty. It had nothing to do with my stepfather. San was just being his old self, being an asshole, judging even though he did not know anything at all.

"Just fuck off, San." I snapped before walking towards the building. I was starting to get annoyed, but I didn’t let it show because I knew that was what he wanted out of this exchange. To piss me off, get on my nerves.

I finally stepped inside the building. I was a bit lost; I didn't know where I was supposed to go now.

"Let's race someday or are you scared, baby?" But San suddenly stopped next to me, looking at me arrogantly, not leaving me alone.

I laughed at the nickname, it was cringe, what the hell was he thinking? "I don't do shit like that."

I didn’t even spare him a glance.

"Then why do you have a motorbike?" San asked, looking at me like the police officer had when he was interrogating me.

"I obviously use it to go to church." I rolled my eyes as I started walking down the corridor. I got a lot of curious looks from the other students littered around in the hallways.

"I bet you raced in that big town of yours." San said, of course, following me.

I suddenly stopped in my tracks, and looked at him with deadly eyes, "Can't you just go and fucking annoy somebody else?"

"Princess is being mean for what? I just wanted to welcome you back in town." He said with a smirk on his lips.

"Oh, how humble" I said ironically, "Thank you for your kindness."

I smiled at him and saluted him before turning around. I did not have the energy for this egoistic guy.

I somehow found the director's office. He handed over my schedule and wished me good luck, and I was abandoned again in the empty corridor.

I was looking at my schedule, trying to figure out which classroom I needed to get in.

 "Hey, new girl, are you lost?" I heard a voice calling out to—me— I had assumed.

I looked up and I found myself standing in front of a tall, black-haired boy, with the kindest smile I had ever seen in my entire life. He was wearing bright colors, which highlighted his bright smiley face, he looked like a walking sunshine.

"Hi, yes, a little bit." I said while looking at my schedule confused.

"Let me see." He took the paper from my hands and looked at it humming, "Oh, you are in the same major as me. I'm headed to that class; I can show you the way."

He offered me up with a sweet smile.

"Oh my god, thank you, you saved me." I huffed the air out from my lungs.

"This way." He pointed out the direction with his finger, and we started to walk towards the classroom.

"By the way, I'm Yunho." He said, reaching his hand out towards me.

I smiled while shaking his hand, "Y/N, nice to meet you. How did you know I am the new girl?"

I had asked him curiously.

"Everyone knows, it's a little town, the rumors here spread like the plague." He shivered with a smile.

I chuckled, "Oh, I see. Too bad, I just wanted to remain unknown."

"Your dad is quite famous in town, did you know? So, I assume he told someone you are coming, and puff, the rumors are everywhere." He gave me a side glance as he smiled.

"Yeah, maybe." I said, thinking about the fact that my father has a car service, which, I assume, is the only one in town. Therefore, people meet up with him constantly, thinking more of it, it isn’t a surprise that people know who I am, in the end it, it is a little town. We arrived to the classroom, and headed in.

The day went by quickly. I was glad I met Yunho, he was a funny guy, and he led me around the University, making funny comments about some students. I really needed him in order to integrate into this new community, which I was once part of ten years ago. It was as if I had to relive the past, as if I was walking down the same path, I had done so ten years ago, a path which might have changed during my absence. It felt like I had to start everything from the very beginning.

  The days passed by quickly, and I just tried to avoid being in the spotlight as I found out everyone knew me, but I knew nobody, because who would remember the people they had met while being just a little kid? As I was randomly walking on the street, headed to get some groceries, random people would say hello and even ask how my mom was. I just quickly answered them, but I didn’t know who they were.  I didn’t like the attention, when all the eyes were on me, so I tried to lay low, live my life quietly.

Then one day, as I had gotten closer to Yunho, he somehow convinced me to attend a party held by some guy named Song Mingi. I wore casual clothes, meaning simple black ripped jeans paired with a black crop-top, and a leather jacket. I am a biker, so the leather jacket is a must, even when you have to leave your bike behind, as I had done now. I felt like drinking something. I hadn’t gotten drunken in a while, not that this was my purpose for the night.

Yunho came to pick me up with his navy-blue Nissan GT-R. The car was beautiful inside out. And that is when I found out that Yunho used to do street racing, held by some local racing company. That's another reason as to why we became friends so quickly, as we were interested in the same things.

  When we arrived to the house where the party was held at, it was already crowded. Luckily, there was the opportunity to stay outside, next to the pool, and so, I told Yunho I didn't really want to go into the crowd. He stayed with me, and to our luck, we found some alcohol outside too. There was a table next to the pool, and there were a whole bunch of alcoholic drinks on it, so, we took some tequila shots. As we were talking about some of Yunho's street races, I heard someone approaching us.

"Where did you leave your expensive bike, princess?" He clapped his hands together, reaching for a can of beer, opening it quickly with his thumb. He was wearing dark jeans, a white T-shirt, and on top a leather jacket. At least he knew the unsaid rule of the bikers. Leather jacket is a must, like I have said.

I looked at him with a glare, "I left it at church since I got drunk on the communion wine."

I said annoyed as it was my last wish to meet him tonight, “Just leave me alone, San.”

"Where's the fun in that?" He leaned close to my face, bending down to be at the same height as me, whispering it in my face.

"The fun must be where you brain is, which you seem to be lacking in." I pointed at his head.

He laughed loudly, "You'll see where is the fun when I beat you at the race."

He glared at me with his typical sharp gaze. It whispered danger. And I liked danger.

“I said I don’t race; do you have issues with your long-term memory now?” Despite meaning to be teasing and unabashed, my voice came out a little angry as I frowned.

“I saw the news about your little incident. You can’t be fooling everyone and telling them you nearly got arrested, princess.” He spread his arms, as he raised his voice, so everyone could hear it who was outside. I felt everyone’s eyes on us, coming closer, way too interested in hearing what the whole fiasco was about.

My blood had started boiling and I clenched my fists together, until my knuckles turned white. I was blinded by my sudden anger towards San, I just wanted to wipe that annoying, arrogant, smile off of his face. I stepped closer to him, my face inches away from his, as his back was facing the pool. He just needed a little encouragement for a swim, and so, I strongly pushed him towards the pool, and before he could fall in, I quickly whisked the beer out of his hand, and lifted it into the air.

“Have a good swimming, Choi San.” I placed the beer down on the table. That was my que to leave him there. I could feel his glare pointed at my back from the pool as he swum to the surface. I could feel his annoyance, that he felt embarrassed. I smirked to myself, Choi San, you have no idea whom you’re trying to annoy. Yunho came after me quickly and gave me a high-five for the move I had just pulled off.

  The next hours at the party were spent by drinking and dancing, as I went into the dancing crowd. I just wanted to disappear in the crowd and feel good. I tried to avoid San the whole night as I didn’t want to see his furious side, San, who got humiliated by me. It was funny, I had to smile the whole time as I remembered his face when I pushed him into the pool, amused by the whole ordeal. I also got to know the guy who threw the party as Yunho introduced us to each other. Mingi was a tiny bit shorter than Yunho, but you could barely notice. He had a buzz cut and rocked his blonde hair; his sharp nose completed his small eyes well. He wore a black T-shirt with some silver necklaces around his neck, and black ripped jeans. His nails were painted black with some rings on his fingers. I am not going to lie; he was hot as hell. And I also found out that he races alongside with Yunho. He owns a Toyota Supra, and that nearly made me faint when he told me about it, because it’s a rare car. He then proceeded to show it to me. It was so beautiful and unique due to its painting. It was kind of a papaya orange with some words on it painted on it, 'Fix on' and 'Youth'. I really liked it.

I had asked the boys about what kind of race San spoke about, and they said it’s an illegal motorbike race, which happen to be very rare here. I quickly tried to forget about it. I didn't want to cause trouble again; I had promised my mom and also myself to stay low, to be better. San was just provoking me; I wouldn’t fall into his trap.

  The next day at university as I was walking down the corridor, headed to the cafeteria, something immediately caught my eyes. It was a poster with a motorbike on it, of course it caught my eyes. I went closer to read it. It said that a motorbike competition was to be held, and the prize were some new parts to upgrade your motorcycle. This was the competition San was talking about, and it's going to be held tonight on the deserted streets of the city. I'm not going to lie; it piqued my interest. I miss speeding down the roads, the adrenaline coursing through my veins every time I race. And my bike is in urgent need of an upgrade, because these past days it felt like something was wrong with it, but I couldn’t figure out what it was exactly. For now, I'm going to let it go, but I still took the poster with me…just in case.

Evening came and I was in my room, I barely talked to my father all day, nothing unusual. Sometimes when I'm alone, and that happens a lot recently, I just start thinking about useless things that make me feel weak. I have never opened up to anyone before, I was never that kind of person, and besides, I always thought it's useless to open up to someone, because in the end they never truly care about me. And the fact that I was betrayed by my own "friends", it just confirms that I really should just stick to myself. I'm not going to say that it didn’t hurt when I saw my friends running away from the police, pushing me straight in front of them, telling me, "You are the new girl, handle it." Funny, I'm the new girl everywhere, I'm not going to belong anywhere, I am always going to be the new girl. They thought it was a nice joke, it wasn't; it ruined me. I started to think that the problem was me, that I deserved this, that I am not enough. As some time went by, I realized it wasn't my fault, but these thoughts still remained deep in my heart. And I will carry it with myself for a long time.

Here I am again, thinking about these things. These are those moments, when I need to clear my head. My solution for it is going out into the chilly air with my bike, cutting through the wind with the highest speed my bike can handle. The feeling of it being night, and I'm alone with Toothless, speeding through unknown streets, I feel like it's just me and my bike in this whole world. It’s like therapy for me. It just…understands me, just like the feeling you get while listening to music; sometimes you listen to a sad song, it makes you sad, it just describes your feelings, but if you are happy and you listen to that exact same song, it'll bring happy tears out of you.

  I was going around the city aimlessly, when suddenly I saw a bunch of bikers headed somewhere. That's when I realized they were going to the competition. My heart started to beat quickly. I started inhaling and exhaling slowly, just the thought of racing made my blood boil, my skin itch, awakening my body like nothing else.

And as I kept following after them, suddenly I realized I arrived to the location of the competition. It was really my subconscious taking over, driving me here. I slowed down a little. There were a lot of people around crowding the bikers, watching their unique motorcycles. Some background music accompanied the sound of the engines as it melted together, creating an intriguing melody. The atmosphere here were totally different compared to the one in the big city. Back there it was just serious faces, who hated each other. But here, I only saw smiles and laughs even between the racers as it seemed like everyone looked at each other friendly, not viewing the other as the enemy.

I stopped my bike, turning the engine off after having parked it. I noticed some curious eyes on me. I didn't know what to do now, I was totally alone. I didn’t know anyone, but I needed to fight my anxiety as I took my helmet off. My helmet always gave me safety, kept me unknown, and that's what I always wanted.

When I stepped next to my bike, someone immediately caught me into a hug. It was Yunho. He lifted me up in the air and smiled.

"Oh my God, you are here, Y/N!" He said excitedly, putting me down.

I laughed, "Yes, I am. I don't know how exactly, I was out for a ride, and then I found myself here."

I said placing my helmet down on my bike.

"I am so happy you are here." Yunho said, his smile never disappearing.

"Yeah, I can see that." I chuckled looking at his bright face.

"Will you sign up for the competition?" He asked me with curious eyes.

I sighed, "I'm here so—I guess?"

I lifted my hands into the air, shrugging.

"Yes!" Yunho fist bumped the air happily, making me chuckle.

He then led me to a person at which I needed to sign up for the competition. I didn't know who I was going to compete against, just until Choi San came to sign up as well. I had already finished signing up as I stood aside with Yunho, while he leaned towards me and quietly started to introduce each racer.

"Did you know that we are going to race against each other, princess?" San said, throwing a quick glance my way with his sharp eyes, signing the paper in front of him. I checked him out very quickly, hoping nobody would notice. He was wearing his typical leather jacket but with a black T-shirt underneath, and ripped jeans this time. His black hair fell into his eyes as he finished filling out the paper. Every woman very noticeably thirsted after him, and I wasn't an exception…he’s fucking hot. What a shame he has a shitty personality.

I rolled my eyes and ignored him, tuning to face Yunho, who was talking to some guy I didn't know. Did San really not understand that I didn’t want to talk to him?

"I want to race against her." I heard San's voice coming from behind me. I turned around to look at him annoyed.

"You can’t get rid of me so fast." He winked at me, that fucker.

"I will, on the track." I smiled at him sweetly, turning around again as I went back to my bike with Yunho, adrenaline slowly starting to course through my body. I had to win this, I had to wipe that confident smile off of San's face.

The race started, it was a drag racing, meaning three bikers were lined on the starting point, it was a shorter straight section, then as the lights turned green from red, you just needed to shift the gears up as perfectly as you could. The first who reaches the finish line wins. Speed mattered only here, and how detailed you are about the gearing.

A few bikers were already done with the race, and I watched them curiously. Slowly, it was our turn to race. People were loud and they cheered whenever their favorites won.

I rolled over to the starting point. One guy was already there and I found out that I'm going to race against San and a guy named Hongjoong, whose nickname was the Devil. I didn't know him, but Yunho said he is one of the most well-known bikers in the town. He had a Honda CBR. His bike was sick, it was bright red and the owner sitting on it with his red helmet really looked like the Devil himself, I get why they call him that.

As I rolled next to him, I glanced towards my right as he was there. He looked at me and bowed his head, I did the same. It was a sign of respect. I liked the guy already.

San arrived to my left side with his Suzuki GSX, painted also with a very dark red, reminding me of blood, mixed with some black. These guys weren't playing, their bikes were absolute monsters. I could almost hide with Toothless, but my bike was almost on the same level as theirs, so I saw hope in winning this.

When the announcer spoke, saying our names and a few things about our motorbikes, I slowly started to focus on the task at hand. I did not hear anything else, just my fast-beating heart. I fixed my eyes ahead, breathing in and out. The engine sounds pushed away the crowd’s noise. The red light suddenly switched green, and I quickly lifted my left foot off the ground, concentrating on the perfect timing of the gearing, bending over a little to adjust with the speed. From the outside it looks like three bikes quickly reach the finish line, but when you are the driver, it feels like the longest minutes of your life.

At the beginning the three of us were head-to-head, then I was the one who was leading. I could feel the victory coursing through my bloodstream already. But suddenly, I heard a puffing noise from my engine, and it stopped without any warning. My bike started to slow, the thoughts of winning long forgotten.

'Shit, shit, no, no, no, no, no!' I mumbled to myself. I could barely stop; my bike was still resonating.

The two other racers quickly passed by me, leaving me with my broken bike. I glanced forward and saw San reaching the finish line first. I was so fucking close. I hit my bike angrily, and got off it to push it over to the side. This is the worst feeling ever, when you are so close that you can already feel the win, but then something out of your control happens and it’s not your fault, you can’t do anything about it, you’re only left with cursing the world, asking, 'Why me?'

I could feel something was faulty with my bike, but I didn't think it was this bad. I heard someone running my way. It was Yunho, and when he reached me, he leaned his hands on his knees, catching his breath.

"Fuck, what happened?" He asked straightening up, still breathing quickly from running.

"I don't know, the engine just stopped working." I kicked my bike. I loved Toothless, but when it did things like this, I felt like I was going to throw it out.

Yunho came closer to my bike, to try and see what the problem was. He crouched down to take a closer look as I stood next to him, using the flash of my phone to help him see better. I heard an engine slowing down next to us. Of course it was San, he took his black helmet off, smiling at me deviously.

"Daddy's money wasn't enough for a normal motor? It’s called karma, princess.” He said with a death glare, smirking annoyingly. “This is because you fucking pushed me into the pool."

Why the hell did he enjoy spitting out words that made no sense at all?

I could feel my blood boiling, my biggest desire at the moment being the want to punch that confident smile off his annoying face. I was so close doing it, I swear to God, I was ready to punch him hard, but that little sanity I was clinging on to did not let it happen. I always had problems controlling my anger. But slowly, I learned to handle it. I learned how to manage these feelings, so I just let it bounce off of me.

"Next time I’m going to push you into the sea, if you don’t stop being an asshole. Go, celebrate your fucking win, you really deserve it." I said, staring at him with deadly eyes.

"Your wish is my command, Princess." He saluted with a smirk, and then placed his helmet back on, driving away with his annoyingly loud engine. I scoffed as I watched him roll away.

"I think I'm going to call my dad, there's no hope in fixing it." I sighed. I'm going to get into so much trouble now. I was forbidden from racing, my dad won't be happy, I'm sure. But it is what it is. At least the cops didn't show up this time.

I called my dad and told him what happened. I was nervous of how he would react. To my surprise, his first question was about my well-being. He said he was coming.

While I was waiting alone for my dad—I told Yunho that he could since my dad was coming— Hongjoong stopped by my side, taking his helmet off. His blonde hair fell into his face as he ruffled his hair. He was damn handsome, he looked so soft, the opposite of his nickname.

"Everything alright?" He asked, his eyes full of understanding.

"Not really, my engine is broken, so yeah…" I said with a sad smile.

"Can I help you with anything?" He looked at me as if he really understood what I was feeling right now.

"No, thank you, I'm waiting for my dad to pick us up." I pointed at my bike.

"Okay, such a shame this happened. It was a good race." He smiled at me and then reached his fist towards me.

"Yeah, it could’ve be a good one." I fist bumped him, smiling.

"Next time perhaps then." He winked at me sweetly, "If you need any help, I'mma be around." He put his helmet back on.

"Okay, thank you." I smiled at him sincerely.

He rolled away quickly, leaving me there with my thoughts. Now, that's what I'm talking about. Why aren't there more people like him on Earth? He looks like an angel, not like the devil I suppose he is—on track. I was intrigued, I wanted to get to know him better. San could really learn a thing or two from him.

  My dad arrived after a few minutes and we quietly placed my bike up on the trailer. As we were headed home, silence settled around us. I could feel he was pissed.

"I'm sorry." I said, looking straight ahead at the road, not wanting to see his disappointed expression.

"What did you think?" He started, "That you would race and I wouldn’t ever find out about it? It's a little town, Y/N, you already know how fast rumors spread here."

He glanced at me for a second.

"I know, I didn’t think, I just miss racing." Tears appeared in my eyes. "Please don't tell mom. She will send me to Azkaban after this."

Call it a defense mechanism, a trauma response, but I had always been like this…joking in serious situations.

I glanced at him and saw a very small smile appear on his lips, "I won't tell her, but it was very bold of you to race again. You can't do that, you know it, it'll have consequences."

He lectured me.

"Yeah, I know. Thank you for not telling mom." I said, relief spreading through my body.

"But you're still punished. You have to help me in the car service after school." He said glancing at me with a serious look.

"Okay, and maybe we could fix my bike too?" I said, glancing at him with a smile.

My father smiled back, "Maybe after we fixed some cars, we could check it out next week."

I clapped happily, "Thank you!"

The rest of the ride until we got home was quiet, I was happy my father was this understanding. I thought as soon as he finds it out, he'll send me back to mom, passing me between each other like I was a tennis ball. But to my surprise, it was the opposite, and I really didn't mind working in the car service. At least we could spend some more time together. I hoped we could fix our relationship, alongside with the cars, of course.

  My days went by and they all were quite the same. I attended my classes at university, then my whole afternoon went by fixing cars with my father. He managed to teach me a lot of things about cars, even though my world was all about motorbikes I was always interested in cars too. I was planning on buying a car, but I needed to put that aspiration aside for a while. My priority was fixing my bike so I could finally ride it.

We checked out my bike and we found out that my engine was overheated, and that's why it shut down. An engine upgrade was needed, and we changed the turbo as well while we were at it. It was going to be even more powerful than before; I was so excited to finally try it out. On some days, Yunho and Mingi would come by the car service to check on me, and they even started helping me out in fixing my bike. We started getting closer, we laughed a lot in between the late-night repairing.

Yunho and Mingi invited me to watch their races, which were going to be held today. I had never been to races like this one before, so I happily accepted the invitation. I could finally try my bike out as I was headed to the race. It felt so good riding it again after a while. I felt like I could breathe again. I think I had gotten addicted to this feeling.

The race was held at the race track of the town, in the afternoon. The sun was slowly going down as I rode my bike, painting my black bike and helmet with the shade of dark orange.

When I arrived to the track, there were lots of people being excited about the race. It was a drag race again, but with cars this time. I looked around and I saw different types of cars, each looking very sick and unique. I started to feel excited as I was rolling down between the cars, searching for Yunho's parked car.

Then, I suddenly recognized someone with a blonde hair. He noticed me and started walking towards me with a smile. I stopped and took off my helmet.

"Fixed your bike, huh?" Hongjoong approached me with a genuine smile.

"Yeah, finally." I pet my bike with a smile.

"I'm glad, we shall try it out some day." He said with his white teeth flashing.

"We shall." I smiled back at him. I would wholeheartedly race with him again.

"Are you racing?" I asked with a frown.

"No, I came to watch, I won't betray my beast." He laughed sweetly. I swear to God, his laugh was like music to my ears, "You came to watch too?"

"Yeah, I've never been to races like this one before." I said, feeling excited.

"We can watch it together; I know the best place where we can watch it from." Hongjoong offered with a sweet smile.

"Okay." I accepted his offer quite easily, "But first, I want to wish Yunho and Mingi good luck."

"Come, you can put your bike down there, I’ll show you where they are." He pointed towards my right, where I could park my bike.

I pushed my bike to the designated area, and brought my helmet with myself. I did not want to leave my treasure there. Hongjoong lead the way to where Yunho's blue GT-R was parked, next to Mingi's orange Supra. These two cars next to each other looked so good. I was very tempted to take a picture of them.

I approached Yunho and hugged him from behind, surprising him. He laughed, "You came, finally."

"I would never miss it." I smiled looking up at him. He was wearing his racing suit with colors that matched his car. His hair was lazily brushed over his forehead, almost reaching his eyes.

I hugged Mingi too, the top part of his orange racing suit lazily hung around his waist, a white T-shirt underneath. This orange clothing suit him very well, highlighting his blonde buzz cut. They looked handsome. What is it today, everyone is looking so good?!

"I'm going to be in the crowd, watching you guys, good luck. Fighting!" I smiled and hugged them both again. Hongjoong also wished them good luck, resorting to giving them high-fives.

"Thanks, we'll try." Yunho said laughing.

We then walked to the spot Hongjoong mentioned before. It was really a good one, we could see everything from here. The crowd started to cheer as the first cars appeared on the track. It was a 2v2. Yunho was the first one, competing against a Mitsubishi Lancer. It was going to be hard to beat that car, but Yunho did not disappoint, and he won with a lot of advantage. Every minute counted here; they were measuring the time up until you crossed the finish line. Time mattered here as it could beat your opponent.

After a lot of quick races, the sun went down, street lamps were lighting the track up, the crowd cheering loudly. We laughed a lot with Hongjoong, and he explained the rules of the races we were witnessing. I finally felt happy after a long time, I loved the atmosphere here.

That is until someone sat next to me.

"Now you’re into cars too? Tell your stepdad to send you a car, a broken one perhaps." San said, looking at me with those fucking annoying sharp eyes of his.

Every time he appears, my mood is fucked, "I will, now leave me the fuck alone."

I had said not looking at him.

San laughed, "Not until we're racing with equal chances."

"Oh, so now you admit it wasn't a fair win for you?" I looked at him with a glare.

"No, I would've won anyways. I just wanted to see how much you could push. But your bike said, nah. I bet it'll fall apart again." He said, leaning closer to me.

My blood started boiling, it was one thing if I was the one saying shit about Toothless, but him spitting out these words about my bike were not allowed. Ever. San was provoking me, and I knew it, I fucking knew it, yet…

"Come, I'll fucking beat you this time." I looked at him with blazing eyes, starring at him sharply.

He stood up smiling, "It'll be my pleasure, princess."

He put his right hand on his heart and bowed.

Oh, how I would hit him in the face, I had nightmares about that fucking confident smile.

I stood up, Hongjoong grabbed my hands to make me look at him, "It's not the best time going out there, Y/N."

He said with concern in his voice.

"I don't care, I want to wipe that confident smile off his face." I was long gone, there was no chance of anyone convincing me doing otherwise.

Hongjoong stood up, looking at me with concern, "But please be careful, call me if anything happens."

He held my hands, he really looked concerned.

"Don't worry, savior. I'll keep her safe." San glared at Hongjoong with the deadliest stare I've ever seen.

Hongjoong stepped closer to San, letting go of my hands. "If anything happens to her because you’re a fucking idiot and your ass is just itchy, you'll regret it, I promise."

Hongjoong stared back at San, and in this moment, he really looked like the Devil. I stood between them as they were eyeing each other, glaring with their noses flared.

Whoa, whoa, hold on a second, what was happening right now—

"Okay, guys, stop! Let's not waste any more time and get this shit over." I looked at San, losing my patience.

He winked at me and then smiled, his dimples appearing. Did I just notice he has dimples?

He did not wear his usual black leather jacket tonight; it was a leather jacket with some red on its sleeves and on the waist with white lines. On the front there was a writing 'SUZUKI', referring to his motorbike being the same brand. I’m not going to lie; he looked hot as fuck.

We walked over to our bikes, which were parked next to each other. I sat on my bike.

"So where are we going? You know this town." I looked over to my left side to meet San's gaze.

"There's a freeway not far from here. There’ll be traffic, but it’s more exciting that way." He smirked.

I started my engine and reached my hand out, motioning to him to show me the way. We both placed our helmets on, and then it was game on from there on. There was no turning back anymore.

I followed San, turning on unknown streets, it was barely a five-minute ride. We stopped where the freeway began.

"The winner is who gets to the end of the freeway first. It's not that long." He told me through his helmet, being on my left side.

I just nodded, it was late into the evening, but the cars ahead of us were countless. It was a three-lane road, people might’ve been going home from work, because there were a lot of cars. We lined up at the side of the road, in front of the red light. San pointed at that, signaling that if it turns green, we start. I started to reeve the engine, my legs in starting position with my eyes focused on the road ahead of me, counting the cars, and analyzing how could I pass by them. Adrenaline crawled through me; my skin covered in goosebumps. I have never felt like this before, I was so hyped about winning this. I had to win this.

The red light suddenly changed to green, and I quickly lifted my foot off the ground, bending over my bike and shifting up. We slid through the cars like the river runs through the rocks. We were two quick arrows passing by the cars, wheezing from left to right. At first, we were head-to-head, but I got lucky and I could pass by a big truck very quickly. San wasn't that lucky, he stayed behind a little. We arrived to a tunnel; sudden strong light hit my eyes. Traffic was lesser here, so, San quickly caught up with me. The sound of our engines were so loud that its echo bounced of the tunnel’s walls. It was like music, the two-engine sound melting into each other. I'm not going to lie, I was enjoying it so much as I have never felt like this before, it was the definition of freedom. I quickly glanced at San and he lifted his arms, giving me a thumps up, then quickly passed by me. But I did not let that happen, I went after him. We arrived to the end of the tunnel, sudden darkness hitting me now, my eyes needed a few minutes to adopt to the dark again. As cars were in front of us, I quickly took the chance to go in between two cars, and I was leading again. Until I suddenly saw red and blue lights flashing from behind.

Shit, shit, no, not again—

It felt like my heart was about to jump out of my chest, it was beating so fast. I can't get caught again, no way. I started to panic, and suddenly all strength escaped my body as I started to slow down. I couldn’t think straight as all thoughts left my mind seeing those colors again, getting flashbacks of that night. The lights, then being pushed straight into the cop’s hands, my friends running away, leaving me alone. San was suddenly next to me.

"Hey, Y/N, don't slow down, we need to lose them! I know a shortcut, follow me!" He yelled over the sounds of our engines and through his helmet, as I suddenly was back from the flashback as I looked behind me, seeing as the cops getting closer and closer.

I just nodded, suddenly feeling my strength coming back to me. There's no way they will catch me again. I quickly followed after San, passing by the cars, the police still following us, getting closer. San turned right onto a street, then left. We went through alleys and little streets, where only a bike would fit. I had no idea where were we, but I didn't care, because it seemed like San's plan was working and the red and blue lights were now far away from us. Suddenly, San turned left and went inside an abandoned factory's court. He quickly stopped and turned off the engine, signaling for me to do the same. I rolled next to him, and switched the key to turn off the engine. I glanced behind my back, I didn't see any signs of the police, but I still felt like I couldn’t breathe. I took off my helmet quickly, starting to inhale and exhale quickly.

"Fuck." I ran my fingers through my hair stressed, pulling it away from my face.

"Come, let's go inside, bring your bike too." San said, getting off his bike as he started pushing it towards the building.

As I got off my bike, I was shaking, the adrenaline was still in my blood. We brought our bikes inside and I needed to sit quickly. I sat down, pressing my back against my bike, lifting my knees up to my chest.

"I think they're gone." San sat down, doing the same as me.

He glanced over me, "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." I said, still not looking at him.

"Are you really that scared of the cops?" I could hear it in his voice that he was smiling.

"San, this is really not the time where you can say shit like that." I glanced over at him. I guess he saw my expression, because his face changed.

"Sorry, I didn’t—" We lifted our heads up as we heard the siren sounds. The red and blue lights lit the walls of the factory, and my heart dropped to my stomach.

"Shit, shit, they are coming here." I stood up, San did too. But suddenly, I heard the sirens getting further and further away. I let out the big breath I was holding this whole time.

"They just passed by, idiots." San laughed.

I glanced over at him in disbelief, and sat down again next to my bike.

San mirrored me, "We need to wait a little, though, so they will give up searching for us."

"You were in these kinds of situations a lot, huh?" I asked San, staring ahead into the darkness.

"Kinda, that's why I knew what to do." He said sighing. Quiet fell over us as we both were thinking, probably not about the same things as he spoke up, "But I don't get it. What did you do that you got almost arrested? Did you crash your bike and kill someone?”

He looked at me frowning. I scoffed at him; I really couldn’t believe he was like this.

"You don't know anything about me, so please stop assuming things when you don't know shit." I stared at him angrily, "It's making me feel sick, San. I'm so fucking tired of your comments, what did I do to you for you to behave like this with me?"

I asked him, looking his way then at my hands, "I was just fucking racing because I love to do so. Why is that so bad? Don’t you do the same thing, San? I’ve got arrested because my friends left me there, so I was blamed for that whole mess, on my own. So, please, ask before you talk shit."

There was a minute of silence, "Fuck, I didn't know, Y/N. I don't fucking know why I'm an asshole with you. It is so easy to piss you off."

I glanced at him; he was staring ahead as he ran his fingers through his raven black hair.

"And you are enjoying this?" I scoffed at him in disbelief.

"Of course I don’t, it’s just—" He turned my way, "Lately I did it just because I wanted to race against you and I thought if I provoke you, then you'll come. I know it sounds stupid, but don't say you didn't like it."

He seemed nervous a little. Choi San being nervous, interesting.

"I did enjoy it, San. But what the hell, why couldn't you just ask me nicely if I wanted to come with you? I would've, if you weren't such an asshole.” I looked at him, “And our bickering or whatever did not start here.”

"Yeah…I know." He looked down at his hands, "When we were kids you suddenly just got cold and pushed me away like I was some garbage. I was a little kid, it hurt."

He admitted. I didn’t recognize this San, this softer, nicer, side of him was strange to me.

"I was a little kid too. Kids are mean, you just had a weak heart." I said to him, "That does not mean you have to be an asshole your whole life, because I mistreated you when we were fucking kids. This is it, San. You need to adapt to some situations; you have to let go of foolish things at times."

I looked at him seriously.

"Forgive me for being such an asshole, you did not deserve it. I just tried to blame other people for my weaknesses." He admitted, and for a second, he looked vulnerable. But it vanished away quickly.

And suddenly we started sharing about our lives, the cops long forgotten, things that we didn't know about the other. I could see the side of him, which he rarely let anyone see. He could be really goofy, we laughed together, trying to recall the ridiculous situations we were in when we were just kids.

"And just so you know, I bought my bike, not someone else. I worked for it, for years. I took shift after shift, because I wanted something. You know…it hurt when you said those things to me." I suddenly felt like I had to tell him how much he stabbed a knife into my heart that day.

"Fuck this, this whole situation is ridiculous." He scoffed, his voice getting weaker. "I'm so fucked up. I'm so fucking tired of adapting to what people expect of me. I did this my whole life."

I looked at him as he buried his face into his palms.

Silence fell over the chilly air as San seemed to be on edge, while he quietly sniffed. I couldn’t believe that San was crying. It came out of the blue; I did not understand the cause of it.

Suddenly, I slipped next to him. I just wanted to hug him, he looked so broken. So, I went closer to him, still sitting on the ground, and hugged him tightly as he scooted closer to me and buried his face into my neck.

"It's okay, San. Sometimes life can be too much. Just let it out." I stroked his back patiently. I felt some tears falling onto my neck.

 I couldn’t believe I was hugging Choi San right now, but I have always been like this. I don't care if he harmed me, if he needs a shoulder to cry on in his most vulnerable moment, then I’m going to be there for him because no one deserves to be alone in these moments.

"I'm so tired, I'm sick of this pain…" He mumbled into my neck, sobbing a bit, "After my mom died—"

"Your mom died?" I lifted his head from my neck, cupping his face with my hands. I looked at him with round eyes. I didn't know his mother died; I was shocked.

"Yeah, right after you moved away..." He said, looking into my eyes with his puffy ones. He seemed empty, he seemed like he wasn't feeling anything at all, "She had cancer, she…She struggled a lot…and I was alone, I needed someone to be there for me, I tried…I really tried." He said, his voice getting quieter.

I did not want to believe what I just heard, his mom was an angel, everyone liked her when she stepped on the stage alongside with the town’s major. They looked like true leaders. I always looked up to her, and now she’s gone.

"Oh my God, I didn't know, San. I'm sorry for your loss.” I blinked away my own tears as I wiped away his, “If I would've known—"

I felt a bit overwhelmed.

Suddenly his expression changed, it seemed like he had realized what he had done in the last few minutes. He locked his feelings away, again. He thought he showed too much of his weaker, softer, side and suddenly, he started closing off, just like I used to do. The old San was coming back. He pushed my hands away from his face aggressively, not looking at me.

"Whatever, I don't need your pity." He stared ahead, and leaned back against his bike, lifting his knees up to his chest.

I scoffed, "What did I do now?”

I blinked at him, not understanding the sudden mood change, “Okay, you can't be helped. I tried, I really tried to be nice with you, but you are impossible."

I stood up, "I think the cops are long gone, let's get the fuck out of here." I pushed my bike outside not waiting for San. I sat on my bike, starting the engine. San arrived next to me, with his bike.

"I'm sorry, Y/N." He looked at me with sincerity, but I did not fall for it.

"Yeah, me too, have a good night." I said with a disappointed look and I put my helmet on to drive away quickly. I just needed to get as far away as possible from him.

  Weeks passed since that night. I tried to avoid San as much as I could. I just couldn't face him; I was so tired of his games. There were a few occasions when he tried to talk to me, but I just ignored him. It's not that I don't understand him, I do, I know what he's been through…at least I can imagine. That night, I tried to see his good side, but he did not let me in. And it hurt, because I knew he needed someone, and I would've been by his side. But he suddenly decided to push me away. He closed himself off, stayed in the dark, not allowing me to light his path for a way out. I really felt hopeful for a second that he could change, that he would lower his walls and let me in. But no, he'll just never change, so I gave up on hoping. At least I thought so, but these past days I just couldn't get him out of my mind. When I closed my eyes, I saw him as he smiled at me in for that few minutes when we were freely talking about ourselves. I'm not going to lie, I liked that side of San, it was so pure. And I would've never thought I was going to say such things about Choi San. But he made me feel strange things.

It was late into the night when I was still in the car service. A car needed to be fixed by tomorrow and I told my dad he could rest, he has worked all day long and I could see he was really tired, so I wanted to fix this car by tomorrow. The weather seemed like it would rain soon, lighting striking every few minutes.

Suddenly, I heard an engine sound from outside. I frowned, who it is this late? I opened up the garage door and I found myself facing a soaked San, getting off his Suzuki, staring at me the whole time. His clothes were starting to soak through, the raindrops falling off from his leather jacket. It had started pouring badly; I haven’t even realized it. My heart was beating fast. He took off his helmet, his hair immediately getting wet. San ran his fingers through his hair.

"What are you doing here?" I asked him without any emotion.

"I just want to talk to you, Y/N. Please, let me take you to a place." He looked at me with pleading eyes.

"In this weather, San, seriously?" I pointed out, still standing under the garage, safe from the pouring rain.

"It'll stop in a few minutes." He said his, black clothes soaked now, waterdrops falling off his face. 

"How do you know? Are you a weather expert now too?" I asked frowning. I was just as hostile as he once was towards me.

He chuckled and ran his fingers through his hair again. "I deserved that. Just like the pool."

He looked at me again. I could see a lot of regret in his eyes.

"That night, I closed myself off because your face reminded me of all the people who pitied me back then, when she died. I was only 11 years old, and I got sick of seeing those faces, it always reminded me of her death."

He started to tear up, his voice getting weak again, "Please, Y/N, forgive me. I know I fucked up everything, I just—you—you drive me crazy and I can't behave around you. I feel like when I'm near you I’ll lose my mind, like I’m not myself anymore. I said a lot of shitty things to you, and I judged you a lot even though I didn't know anything about you. I want to change that, I want to know you better, Y/N. I want to let you in, I'll do that if you also want it, but I hope you won't be scared of what you'll see."

I saw as teardrops fell down on his face, but the rain immediately washed it away, his voice cracking from the flow of emotions.

My heart wanted to jump out of my chest. I didn't except him to say things like these to me, "I'm not scared, San, to see your dark side. I never was, and I never will be."

Tears started to appear in my eyes, to my surprise, "You said some hurtful things to me, but I get it, I really do. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, but I was just so shocked, I didn't know…I didn't know, San."

I started to sob, tears falling from my face.

"I know, I know, baby." He stepped closer to me as he reached out for my hands pulling me out into the rain, into his chest. I cried into his chest as he rubbed my back up and down, my clothes and my hair soaked. I should’ve been the one comforting him, but in the end, I was the one sobbing like a little girl into his chest.

We stood in the heavy rain; our clothes wet, my hair sticking to my forehead yet he still hugged me like he never wanted to let me go. Caressing my back, he kissed the top of my head. I tried to inhale and exhale, so I could finally speak.

"I forgive you, and also I'm sorry." I whispered to him, lifting my head up from his chest.

He didn't let me go, his left hand was on my waist and he reached his right hand up to my cheeks to wipe off my tears, but they were wet again with tears and raindrops. "It's okay, don't cry, please, because then I'll cry too."

He smiled at me with the sincerity I've never seen before. His eyes were saying so much, it hurt. He finally let me in, allowed me to see his real self.

I laughed at that, and he followed suit, laughing together at this predicament, "Look at us, soaked like wet rats."

He smiled at me, never taking his sharp eyes off me.

Then suddenly his expression became serious, he stared at me as if I was his treasure, wanting to bury me, so no one could take me away, "I want to know you better, I want to know everything about you. What you like, what you don't, what is your favorite color, what do you like to eat, what you did while you were gone from here, what does it feel like to ride your bike…I want to know you, and never let you go."

He said, his hand still on my cheek, accompanied by his other one.

I smiled at him. I felt so happy at that exact moment, I didn't care if I was soaked, I only saw him, "Me too."

I said quietly.

He leaned closer to me, his lips almost touching mine, "Can I kiss you?"

He whispered against my lips sweetly.

Chills ran through my body. I never wanted anything more than him kissing me. I just nodded; words long forgotten. He closed the distance between us, and when our lips finally met, there was a loud thunder rumbling the world, lighting flashing around us and rain pouring from above, washing away our past where we said a lot of stupid things to each other. We could start with a clear page, melting our futures together. Our lips never stopped moving, it felt like heaven and hell met with each other as our lips moved against the other’s, just like when we were racing, both of us tried to win the other over. I welcomed San's darkness wholeheartedly and tried to scare it away with my light.

Then suddenly the rain stopped, and we separated from each other, looking up at the sky. The clouds were gone and the full moon was shining so brightly it looked like it was almost daylight.

I chuckled looking up, "You should apply to be a weatherman."

San was gazing at me so lovingly I felt like I was going to melt right there, "See? Now you can come with me, I want to show you something."

He held my hands.

"Okay, I should bring my bike then." I smiled at him, feeling as happiness crawled into my chest.

"It would be more proper if I was the one taking you there, but I want to race you." He held my waist and pecked my lips a few times. I still needed to get used to this San. I really liked it.

"I'm going to beat you." I scrunched my nose cutely.

"Okay, princess, but first, go change. I don't want you to catch a cold." He caressed my cheekbones.

"I'll bring you some clothes of dad’s, you'll catch a cold too otherwise." I kissed him quickly and then went inside the house, smiling like a fool, to grab some dry clothes.

  It was the middle of the night, but two engine sounds cut through the late-night life. We were going up on winding roads, forests covering both sides of the road. I was laughing beneath my helmet as San goofed around, slowing down and then speeding again. I think I have never felt more happier than right now. It was pure freedom going through these curvy roads, racing against each other. But in the end, it was just the two of us sharing our passion, riding our motorbikes, the moon shining upon us brightly, guiding our roads, showing our future ahead of us.

I finally knew I belonged somewhere, to someone. It was my hometown, and Choi San.

[venusjaynie]

Patch Me Up

Billy Hargrove x fem!reader

summary: Billy, your (secret) boyfriend, shows up at your house (which is really Steve's house) after a bad fight with Neil, and Steve has never been more confused.

CW: hurt/comfort, minor injury detail, mentions of abuse (it's very brief!!), lots of fluff, billy is probably OOC but I do not care 🫶🫶, Steve wants to put his and Billy's differences aside for your sake.

Word count: 2k

2:45am

Someone's at the door. They knock once, and you don't make a move to answer. But then the bell rings, and they knock again so, with a groan, you get out of bed and walk past Steve's room to see if he's still asleep, or if he was also woken up by the disturbance from downstairs. Luckily, he's asleep.

You make your way down the stairs of the house and, for safety, you grab Steve's nail bat from its place beside the front door. Slowly, you unlock the door and open it just enough so that you can see whoever is on the other side of it.

It's Billy.

You open the door fully and drop the bat as quietly as you can. Billy looks like he's been dragged to hell and back, to put it simply. For a second, you're confused as to why he's here at 2:45 on a Wednesday morning, but his eyes shine with unshed tears, and the big red mark on his cheek speaks for itself.

"Hey, pretty girl, mind letting me in? I'm dying out here." You nod and step out of the way with nothing but worry for him casting over your features. You notice that he's limping a little, but you don't mention it.

"God, Billy, what the hell happened to you?" You know it was Neil, but Billy had insisted that things with his dad were getting better. He laughs half-heartedly, not meeting your eye.

"I, uh, let Max go over to the Byers to stay over with her friend Ellie or El, or something, 'cause Neil and Susan were supposed to go away for a few nights. But they ended up coming home early, and when he found out he told me to go pick her up. But I told him I didn't want to disturb Mrs byers, and he didn't take to that too kindly." He huffs out another humourless chuckle, but you can hear him choking up as he speaks.

"Oh, babe..." You start, but you're at a loss for words. You've seen Billy a few times after a bad run-in with his dad, but there's blood coming from his nose and he's cradling his right elbow in his hand, and not to mention his left eye is swelling slightly. "C'mere, let me clean you up a bit."

As you go to take Billy's hand to lead him to the downstairs bathroom you can hear Steve's floorboards creak just above you, and his footsteps echo through the hall upstairs.

"Hello?" Steve calls out from the top of the stairs.

"Hey, Stevie, it's just me." You reply.

"Who were you talking to?" You can hear him making his way down the stairs. "Hargrove? Is that you?"

"Don't get too excited, Harrington." Steve rolls his eyes at Billy's sarcasm.

"Why are you in my house, man? What-" He stops himself as he reaches the bottom of the stairs and can see Billy's face in the light, letting out a soft 'oh'.

Neither of them speak for a moment or two, and you take that as your cue to get back to the previous task as hand.

"Billy, let's get you fixed up." He nods silently and follows you to the bathroom. You tell him to sit down on the lid of the toilet, and you open the cupboard under the sink to grab the first aid kit. You rummage around a bit, until you remember that Steve took it last week after Will had fallen off his bike and gashed a pretty nasty cut into his knee.

“I need to run to the living room to grab the first aid kit, okay?” You ask gently, already heading toward the door, but Billy grabs your hand before you can go any further.

“No, please don’t leave.”

“Baby, it’s only for a second. I’ll be right back.” He shakes his head.

“Can’t you just yell for Harrington to get it? I just don’t think I can be alone right now.” He speaks so quietly, more so than you’ve ever heard him do before, and there's something about the rawness and honesty in his eyes that makes you never want to leave him alone again.

“Steve?” You shout, feeling bad about disturbing your friend again.

“Yeah? What’s up?” He quickly walks back down the stairs and comes into view as he stands in the doorframe of the bathroom.

“Could you grab the first aid kit from the living room, please?” He nods without a word, and emerges a few minutes later with the little, green plastic box.

“Thank you. Sorry for waking you up, you can go back to bed now. promise we won’t disturb you again.” Steve just laughs lightly and shakes his head.

“Nah, I’m up now. No chance of me getting back to sleep for at least 2 hours. Might as well do something useful with my time.” He heads in the direction of the kitchen, and you close the door of the bathroom behind him.

Walking back over to billy, who is sat silently on the counter of the bathroom, you’re able to truly take in how beaten up he looks. His left eye is swelling more and more, and the red mark on his cheek has almost turned purple.

“Oh, Billy.” You slowly reach out to touch his face, but he flinches back slightly at the notion of your hand coming into contact with his cheek.

"Shit- sorry." He apologises quickly and takes your outstretched hand in his.

"You don't have to be sorry, it's not your fault." You give his hand a reassuring squeeze and get to patching him up. You clean up his bloody nose, which he scrunches up when the alcohol rub you use on his cheek stings a bit, and you apologise quietly. You find a bandage and you fashion a make-shift sling. It's definitely nothing special, but it's better than letting his arm hang free without support.

You catch sight of the shift in his features when he goes to adjust his position on the counter. His hand shoots up to hold onto his chest, and you immediately worry for the state of his bones and internal organs.

"Billy?" He looks up at you. "Can you take your shirt off?" He smirks.

"You tryna get me naked? Could've just said so, baby." He laughs under his breath, and despite the situation, you crack a small smile. He removes his shirt, and you can't help the short intake of breathe of breath that you take. The skin on Billy's chest is red and blue and black and purple and the more you examine it the worse it looks. It's horrible.

"Oh my god." You breathe. You look through the first aid kit for some kind of oil or ointment that you could use to treat the discolouring on his chest, but it was to no avail. "I don't think I have anything that can help that. I'm sorry, Billy. I'm so sorry." You aren't really apologising for your lack of treatment products. You're apologising because this is real. He has to live life like this, and there's nothing you can do about it.

"Hey, hey, it's okay. It's not your fault. You didn't know I was coming, yeah?" You nod. "And besides, you've done more than enough, sweetheart. More than you ever needed to, alright? I'm okay, I swear." You know he's lying. He's not okay. But for once, you choose to not argue back. You honestly don't have the strength.

The rest of his casualties aren't your forte, unfortunately. Bruises and a potentially sprained ankle- which he promises 'isn't even that bad'- aren't things that you can tend to, but you think some ice to his ankle will do him some good, and maybe provide some pain relief.

"Hey, Billy, let's go to the living room, 'kay?" He nods, and stands up, and you put your arm around his waist to support him. He kisses your temple and starts to limp out of the bathroom to make his way to the living room.

Steve is sitting on the sofa when you enter with Billy, and he makes a move to leave.

"I'll give you guys some privacy." He nods at Billy as he leaves, and you truthfully don't want him to go. He's your best friend, and you could use some grounding after what you've done tonight. You don't say anything in protest to his statement though, however, Billy does.

"Harrington? If you wanna stay down here, I don't mind, really." Billy looks almost as shocked as you do, as if he doesn't register what he's saying until the words have already flown out of his mouth and he can't take them back.

"Oh, uh, okay. You sure, man?" Steve makes a move to re-enter the living room.

"Don't make me change my mind, dude." Steve laughs lightly as Billy's answer, and walks back into the living room, closely followed by you and Billy.

You sit down on the couch, Billy following you, and Steve takes his previous seat. You have to admit, it's a little awkward at first. You're the one making conversation and trying to tie them both in, but it's difficult, what with knowing about their past rivalry and all.

You sigh, before saying,

"Alright look, I know you two have your differences, but I'm just as uncomfortable as you both. So, if we're gonna sit here tonight, is there any chance you could just make up? For my sake at least?"

It's a while before either of them speak, and to no one's surprise, it's Steve.

"Yes, yeah okay. I think I can do that."

"Thank you." You smile at him, and wait hopefully for Billy to agree too.

"Fine." He mumbles after a few minutes. You know you won't get much more out of him than that, so you're just glad he cooperated.

"Thanks, Billy." He nods, not saying anything more. "I'm gonna get you some ice for your ankle." Another nod, this time accompanied by a smile.

You leave the room, cringing internally at the thought of leaving Billy alone with Steve. You just hope they can put their differences aside, because it would make your situation a hell of a lot less difficult.

After retrieving the ice from the bottom drawer of the freezer, which took a great deal of effort because you had to clear out the contents of the drawer and then fit it all back in, you head back to living room, silently praying the 2 boys haven't killed each other in your absence. However, as you walk to the door, you hear them before you see them. Billy's laughing, and so is Steve. 'What the hell?' you think to yourself, bemused to say the least.

"Jesus, Harrington, that's fucking hilarious. You know, you're better company than I thought."

"What's gotten into you two, huh?" You chuckle as you saunter in and retake your seat, leaning forward to set the ice on the coffee table, and then prop Billy's ankle on the bag.

"Nothin', sweetheart. This guy's not too bad to have around. He's funnier than I remember." As you lean back against the sofa, Billy stretches his good arm around your shoulders, and you settle against him.

"It's good that the two of you are getting along, for my sake, anyway." Billy doesn't say much, but hums in acknowledgement, while Steve just nods.

It's quiet for a little while longer, until Steve clears his throat somewhat awkwardly.

"Uh, Hargrove- Billy, even- fuck, that feels weird. Yeah, anyway, um, if you ever need a place to stay whenever, you know, this happens, you can always come here." Steve doesn't look at Billy when he talks, but if he did he'd see the way Billy's eyes soften ever so slightly, the way his shoulders relax into the plush couch behind him, the way his eyes go a little glossy.

"Thanks, Steve." Billy replies, before continuing with, "Yeah, that feels weird as shit, man." earning a laugh from both you and Steve.

After a moment, Billy yawns, and his eyes look droopier than they did a minute ago, so you decide now would be a good time for the two of you to head to bed.

"Alright, Stevie, we're gonna head to bed." You stand up, helping Billy do the same.

"Me too." Steve follows in suit, standing and stretching his arms over his head. The three of you head toward the stairs, with Steve behind you and Billy to make sure he can help if the latter falls.

As you're climbing the stairs, however, Steve has something on his mind.

"Hey, kid, any chance you're making pancakes tomorrow morning?" You turn around to face Steve and you don't think you've ever seen him look more hopeful in your life. "Billy, I swear to God, she makes the best pancakes in the world."

Billy smiles and says, "Well, sweetheart, I gotta try 'em. I'm somewhat of a pancake connoisseur, if you will." You roll your eyes.

"Ugh, fine. Yes, Steve, I will make my famous pancakes." You say, and you swear Steve looks like he could jump for joy. "But, you have to make spaghetti tomorrow night."

"Done."

When you reach the top of you stairs, you bid Steve goodnight, and make your way back to your room, but this time with Billy in tow, and you tell him to sit on the bed. Grabbing him one of his shirts that you stole a month ago, you help him out of his other one, careful not to disturb the fine bandaging you had previously carried out on his arm, and you gently pull the new one over his head, guiding his arms through it too. He opts for no pants, just boxers, and you're too tired to object, not that you mind either way, and the two of you lie back in your bed.

"Thanks for takin' care of me." Billy mumbled into your hair.

"Thanks for letting me." You reply, making Billy smile. And for the first time in a long while, Billy sleeps.

[shadowisles-writes]

Too Sweet 🍯 Elucien Week Day 7

You know you're bright as the morning, as soft as the rain Pretty as a vine, as sweet as a grape If you can sit in a barrel, maybe I'll wait Until that day I'd rather take my whiskey neat My coffee black and my bed at three You're too sweet for me - Too Sweet, Hozier

A/N: I hope everyone had fun with this week, the amount of elucien content I've seen on my dash was unreal and I'm so excited to go catch up on all the fics that have been posted over the past few days! To finish off well, I've kept this fic in my docs for a while because the only right way to finish elucien week for me is definitely a smutty AU <3

Summary: Lucien believes Elain is too sweet for him, and she's very quick to prove him wrong. (smut, ice play, light choking)

Word count: 4530

“Which one is she?” Lucien tilted his head in curiosity.

There were three girls sitting at the table a few feet away from them. Two of them had to be twins, with perfectly matched dark skin, identical features and raven black hair. The other one was a brunette in a yellow dress patterned with tiny flowers. The dress was more suited for a summer picnic than an evening in a bar.

“The brunette.” Jurian jutted his chin as she laughed at something her friends said, her hand shyly coming to cover her face.

“You’re not serious,” Lucien chuckled and took a sip from his whiskey. “You know that’s not my type.”

Historically, pretty girls in pretty summer dresses truly weren’t, and Lucien wasn’t their type either. He rode a bike no matter the weather rather than buy a car, wore a leather jacket to go with it, and the lip ring didn’t scream “meet the parents” type of guy. If that wasn’t enough to scare them away, the brutal scar that ran in three jagged lines from his forehead, across his eyebrow and all the way to his cheek usually did the job.

“Your type is girls you can fuck and leave in the morning without causing a fuss.” Vassa scoffed. “You said you wanted more, I found you a girl who can be more.”

“Not this one.” Lucien knocked back the rest of his drink, determined to win this argument.

What he didn’t account for was that Vassa didn’t care enough to argue with him. She got up from their table before his glass touched the table again and headed for the girl she had met in the bathroom less than an hour before.

She turned, and it was only then that Lucien saw her face. Too pretty, too sweet. He knew it from one glance and tore his eyes from her before they could make eye contact. He didn’t need her thinking that he was interested or that he’d make a move on her.

“Here we go,” Jurian grinned a few seconds later.

“Vassa can be mad all she wants, I’m not going over there.”

“You won’t need to.” A foreign voice interrupted.

Lucien had no choice but to turn and face her. A laugh muffled into a cough came from his left, followed by a sound that had to be Vassa punching Jurian’s arm. A scrape of a chair, then Lucien knew he was alone.

“Evening,” was all he said to the girl.

She was beautiful. Her heart shaped face was framed by wavy hair, and her pretty pink lips were still smiling. Lucien counted a couple of seconds before her eyes went to his scar and trailed the whole length of it.

“I’m Elain, may I sit?” She rested her hand on the back of the chair across from Lucien and he nodded. “Aren’t you going to tell me your name?” She asked as she gracefully took the seat.

“Lucien,” he pushed his glass aside with his knuckles and rested both of his forearms on the edge of the table as he really took her in.

The dress was out of place for the bar, but it suited her. The way the square neckline framed her chest made it hard for him not to let his eyes dip low, but he remained focused on her face. Lucien gave her another minute before she’d conclude she hated him.

Elain smiled wider instead. “How eloquent.”

“If what you’re looking for tonight is conversation, I’m afraid you’ve picked the wrong table.”

“Mmh, what am I signing up for then?”

Lucien wished he didn’t feel a spark of delight at the defiance in her tone. He wasn’t an asshole—Lucien was raised too well not to hate being rude, but he couldn’t let her go on. “I’m sorry, Elain. You seem really nice, but I’m not looking for anything right now.”

“Jesus Lucien,” she laughed. “You’d think I asked you to marry me.”

Lucien couldn’t help but chuckle with her. “I’m not husband material.”

“Good,” Elain beamed. “I’m not looking for a husband.”

She was pure sunshine. Happy, beautiful, bright sunshine. 

Lucien sighed, “I’m not boyfriend material either.”

“That’s not what your friend said.”

At this, he actually laughed. “If you think Vassa is trustworthy, your judgment is severely off.”

Elain set her hands on the table and asked in a serious tone, “are you going to fight me every step of the way, or are you going to buy me a drink?”

Lucien raised a surprised brow silently waved at one of the bartenders for their attention.

A fruity mocktail and a whiskey neat later, he knew he was in trouble. Elain was beautiful, and funny, and she managed to smile and make a joke of every dry answer he threw at her. Lucien was smiling so much that his reticence was hardly believable. 

Even alone in the bar’s bathroom, Lucien had to grin at the mirror like an idiot.

“Dammit,” he cursed softly and tried to convince himself he’d tell her to leave once he got back to their table. He could do this, save himself the struggle of any sort of attachment before it was too late. They weren’t compatible. He could tell her to leave.

Elain was talking with her friends when Lucien emerged from the bathroom. They had jackets on, but hers was still on the back of a chair. She beamed when she saw him and walked over, forcing Lucien to notice how short she was compared to him. How easy she’d be to pick up and throw on his bed. How comfortable it might be to have her nestled in his arms on the couch.

Tell her to leave. That was his task, but Lucien was distracted by the pretty honey of her eyes and the way she had to crane her neck to look up at him when she stood so close to him.

“You’re too sweet for me, Elain.” He breathed out.

Elain cocked her head. “I think you’re wrong.”

“Honey,” Lucien looked down without lowering his head enough to risk doing something stupid like kiss her. “Go home with your friends.”

“Why don’t you take me home yourself?”

He almost screamed. Was there nothing he could say for her to stop tempting him? “You’re not getting on my bike in a dress,” was his last argument.

She smiled wider and shrugged. “I have a car.”

“You really have an answer for everything,” Lucien laughed in disbelief.

“If you don’t want to go home with me you can just say that,” Elain was serious then, her feet shuffling just a step back. “It’d be quicker than your half assed excuses.”

He knew he should say it, but the words that came out of his mouth were “Get your jacket, Elain.”

.

Her home was cozy. The lights were dim and warm, and the place was neat while looking lived in. Her couch looked like sitting meant sinking into the cushions forever and Lucien had half a mind to drag her there and sit her in his lap already.

“Do you want some water?” She dragged him out of his filthy thoughts with a polite offer, so Lucien cleared his throat.

“Sure, thank you.”

He curiously kept on walking to the next door. He found a blue themed bathroom, with a flowery shower curtain and the matching bath mat. There was only one other door, so he stepped into her bedroom and took in the postcards lined up on one of the walls.

“I get them from museums wherever I travel,” Elain explained as she stepped in behind him.

“Cute,” he commented and took the glass of water from her.

She had put a few ice cubes in, and he almost dipped his fingers in to hold one to her skin. He wanted to trace her neck, her chest, watch her nipples harden, then follow that trail with his tongue.

As if reading his mind, she smoothed her hands down her dress. “You didn’t come here to talk about postcards.”

“Unless that’s all you want to do.”

“It’s not.” Elain removed the glass from his hand, put it on her nightstand, then reached for the fabric of his shirt. “It was hard work getting you here in the first place, I’m not about to change my mind.”

“Good,” Lucien cupped her cheek and finally allowed himself to kiss her.

Elain let out a tiny whimper, the smallest of noises that had Lucien’s free hand flying to her lower back to press her against him. All of the restraint he had been grasping at since she first talked to him flew out of the window. Lucien let his hand slide back to tangle his fingers in her hair, he twisted into the strands at the back of her neck and tilted her head up to better claim her mouth with his.

Elain whimpered again, her hands grasping at his shirt in all the wrong ways in a pathetic effort to get it off. Lucien groaned when her nails scratched at his skin and kissed her harder. He’d expected her to be chaste, or at least to ease into things, but Elain was kissing back just as ardently, their lips and tongue meeting in a mess that made his head spin.

She only hesitated when her tongue teased at his lip ring like she wasn’t sure what to do with it. Lucien slowed down enough for her to figure out how to play with it, a quiet moan coming from the back of his throat when her teeth lightly tugged on the metal. His blood rushed south too fast, urging him to move his hands to her ass and bring her even closer.

When he couldn’t take it anymore, Lucien left her mouth to start trailing kisses down her jaw, her neck. He found the spot that made her breath hitch and grazed it with his teeth before sucking on the sensitive skin just long enough to leave a mark. At the same time, his fingers began to tug at the sleeve of her dress to pull it down, the other hand still on Elain's perfect ass. Lucien exposed her breasts, his lips following the hem of the dress until he could finally suck her nipple into his mouth.

Elain moaned, a hand flying to his head to guide him where she wanted. Her knees nearly buckled when he caught her nipple between his teeth and tugged just enough to send a hot wave of pleasure through her.

"I need this off," he groaned in annoyance when the dress wouldn't go any lower than her waist, and Elain chuckled breathlessly.

"There's a zipper," she turned and offered her back to him. "Can't hurry everything."

"My bad," he pressed an apologetic kiss to her neck.

Lucien's fingers fumbled with the fabric to find the zipper, then pulled it all the way down to let it fall to the floor. She wasn’t wearing panties, so he wasted no time turning her around to guide her back until her knees hit the edge of the bed. Elain sat and gasped as he immediately fell to his knees in front of her.

Lucien was rushing this, but a nudge at her knees was all it took to spread her legs and see the glistening wetness already clinging to her inner thighs. He tore his eyes from the pink pussy he was dying dive into and latched on to the soft skin of her thigh instead, biting and licking on each side until light purple marks began to litter her thighs. Elain was growing impatient under his touch, writhing and lifting her hips to get him closer, but he denied her every time.

“Stop teasing,” she eventually grabbed his hair to put his mouth where she wanted it.

Lucien caved, at least as desperate as she was. Her taste spread on his tongue and wetness coated his face, but he’d never minded getting messy. He tried not to get lost immediately and paid attention to the way her breathing hitched when he did certain things. Lucien kept a hand on her inner thigh and felt the way her muscles clenched every time his tongue stroked a sensitive spot. He mapped her out with his tongue until he knew exactly what patterns worked to make her moan.

Elain loosened her grip on his hair, no longer guiding but accompanying as she relaxed into his touch. Lucien looked up at her with eyes wild with desire and echoed her moan with one that vibrated against her pussy. He licked and sucked eagerly on sensitive skin until she was close to seeing stars. Elain threw her head back on the pillow, eyelids fluttering shut as she got lost in the sensations.

She didn’t see Lucien reach for the glass of water just close enough for his hand to wrap around it, didn’t dare complain when fingers replaced his mouth on her clit, thinking he might need to catch his breath. Then, his cold tongue stroked her and Elain lost a cry.

She jolted to look at Lucien, whose eyes were full of mischief as he sucked her clit into his mouth until the cold sensation was replaced by warmth. Elain would have complained if he didn’t choose this moment to gently press two impossibly thick fingers inside of her while his tongue still moved on her clit. Whatever she was about to say came out as a garbled whine and gasps.

Lucien curled his fingers just so, and the dragging against her sweet spot combined with his tongue began to make her thighs shake. He kept his pace steady, building the pleasure up, and up, and up until Elain came on his fingers and tongue with a soft cry. She panted, eyes rolling back with each wave of pleasure while Lucien hungrily lapped up everything she gave him.

Elain had to shove his head away for him to finally lift himself from her pussy.

“That little trick was mean,” she said breathlessly.

“Yeah?” Lucien chuckled as he wiped his face with his hand and came back to hover atop her body. “What are you going to do about it?”

He had expected an eye roll, maybe a half hearted slap on his arm. Instead, Elain took him by surprise and used her hips to roll them over. She perched herself in his lap and carefully placed her hand on his neck. She wasn’t pressing down, but Lucien stopped breathing all the same.

“How about you take your clothes off and find out how I play?”

Yes please, was what he would have said if he could still speak. Lucien nodded instead and wordlessly began to move to remove his shirt. Elain lifted herself from his lap, freeing his neck so he could hurry to undress. She watched without an ounce of shame, eyes filled with lust the more she got to look at him.

Lucien wanted nothing more than to keep pleasing her. He was on his back once again in seconds, his cock painfully hard and leaking a bead of precum. Elain climbed back on him—ass low on his thighs so she wouldn't touch his cock just yet. Looking right into his eyes, Elain placed her hands high on his chest and carefully brought both thumbs to brush his nipples.

Lucien surprised himself with the loud gasp he let out, his cock twitching from the stimulation. No one had ever bothered to play with his nipples, and the wicked grin growing on Elain's face told him she was going to keep on exploiting that particular weakness. She removed her hands and leaned to the side, and Lucien followed with his eyes as she dipped her fingers into the glass to pull out an ice cube.

He would have fumbled and dropped it for sure, but Elain moved with confidence and she must have been the sexiest thing he had ever seen perched on top of him like this. A drop of cold water fell on his chest—just enough to make him jerk lightly.

"Payback's a bitch," Elain murmured as she held the ice in front of her. "Did you know that?"

"I-ah," the next words out of Lucien's mouth were unintelligible as she ran the ice cube from his Adam's apple down the middle of his chest.

His breaths were shudders as she went back and traced random lines, then suddenly followed his collarbone, swirled in an unexpected circle, moved along the lower line of his pectorals. Lucien was positive he'd lose his mind, and he nearly swatted her hand to reverse the situation. His curiosity regarding her next move was the only thing that kept him from doing so.

He couldn’t even remember the last time he had wanted anyone this badly. The ice cube melted somewhere around the V of his lower stomach and Elain wrapped her still cool hand around his hard cock. Lucien tried not to jerk, and miserably failed. A few strokes of her hand and the press of her thumb at the top were enough to make him whimper like he’d never been touched by anyone in his life.

Elain shimmying up his body to rest a hand on his chest and grind her soaked pussy against his cock should have felt like a mercy, but Lucien didn’t know how he could keep himself together long enough to please her. A breathless moan escaped her every time the head of his cock caught her clit and she went from slowly grinding to adding more pressure in a maddening cycle that was about to become Lucien’s undoing.

“Fuck, Elain, I can’t—” he groaned and got stopped by her small hand on his neck again.

“Not yet.” She ordered without ever slowing down.

Lucien would have done just about anything to obey. He dug his nails into his left palm and lifted his other hand to her waist, caressing up and down her impossibly soft skin. His eyes remained torn between looking at the glassy look in her own or the way her tits bounced with each rock of her hips.

In the end, it was her small hand adjusting his now soaked cock at her entrance that caught his attention. Elain lowered herself slowly, little sighs of pleasure falling from her lips while Lucien struggled to keep ahold of himself at the sight of his cock disappearing in her perfect pussy. Careful up and down motions took her lower and lower, their bodies easily sliding together with how wet she was, but Elain was still struggling to take him.

Elain winced slightly. “I don’t know if I can, ah,” she had to lift herself to be able to keep breathing.

Lucien pushed on the mattress to sit up and carefully grabbed her ass to adjust their position. He bent his knees to cross his ankles, and Elain shifted to wrap her legs around him.

"There," Lucien licked a hot stripe up her neck and guided her hips down on his cock again, stopping before he accidentally went in to deep. “Do what feels good,”

This position gave her more support so she could control her movements without having to exhaust herself. Lucien leaned back on one hand and brought the other between their bodies to toy with her clit. Elain’s chest flushed a bright pink along with her cheeks, her pants were quickly muffled into a kiss and Lucien tried not to weep from the maddening tightness of her pussy on his cock.

Fucking perfect, was all Lucien could think when she let her head fall back.

“Too much,” Elain dug her teeth into her lower lip in a failed attempt to hold back a desperate whine. “I need you to, ah, please.”

The last word was his undoing. Lucien fell over the edge right along with her; he bit her shoulder with a groan as he emptied himself inside of her. Even as he panted, trying to catch his breath after his release, Lucien knew he’d been thinking of this night for the rest of his life.

With Elain still atop him, Lucien carefully licked the light marks his teeth left into her skin before moving up, nuzzling her neck briefly and catching her lips in a messy kiss. She pushed at his shoulders gently, and he lowered them back onto the mattress on their sides, carefully slipping himself out of her. They didn’t say a word for a minute—or five, Lucien wasn’t sure he could count anymore.

“Should we…” Elain broke the silence and traced a finger down his chest.

Lucien shivered and eagerly agreed, “Yes, if you give me a minute. Or five.”

She didn't, already pushing herself up on her elbow to look at him better. “Oh I have ideas on things to do while we wait.”

“Oh?”

It took both of her hands on his shoulders for Lucien to lay fully on his back and keep still to watch what she’d do next. Elain threw her leg over his body to straddle his torso and moved up, and up.

“I like where this is going,” Lucien licked his lips in anticipation.

“Open your mouth.” Elain said before her knees reached either side of his head. “Tongue,” she added once he complied.

She sat without hesitation, her pussy dripping their mixed fluids on his tongue. “That’s it,” she praised quietly when he kept still and let her grind herself on his tongue the way she wanted. “Just let me, mmh.”

Lucien was in heaven. His eyes remained wide open to stare at her, perfect and just a little bit sweaty as she took what she needed from him. His hands fit just right over her ass, supporting each roll of her hips. He had never been used like this before, but he’d let Elain do it until the day he died. Wetness covered his mouth and cheeks, slick on her inner thighs that made the filthiest wet noise against his face every time she moved.

Lucien groaned as the muscles in her legs tightened and her breathing grew more erratic. Elain was going to come on his face again, and he didn’t think his cock had ever been harder. He watched the way her skin flushed bright pink, his toes curling when she suddenly reached for his hair and tightened her fist in the red strands.

“Lucien,” she moaned his name as she moved faster, ground harder.

She came without slowing down, riding each wave of pleasure with whimpers that had Lucien’s cock twitching. He cleaned her up with his tongue, eyelids fluttering at the taste of her until she ground her hips to a halt. He almost begged her to come back when she lifted herself to slide back down his body, but she went boneless in his arms and he could do nothing but catch her.

Lucien ran his hand up and down her back soothingly while she recovered, he felt the urge to kiss her temple, too, but held himself back in fear that the gesture would be too intimate for people who barely knew each other. Then, his chest almost shook with a laugh that a kiss could be too intimate after his tongue had been in her pussy.

“You okay?” He asked softly when she moved again, her hips sliding to trap his hard cock between her soaked pussy and his stomach.

“Mmh,” she adjusted again so the head caught at her entrance and carefully slid down.

Her wince made Lucien frown. “If it’s too much we can—”

“It’s not,” Elain interrupted. “You might just need to…” Her weight shifted, and Lucien followed until he was on top of her, her sinfully perfect legs wrapped around his waist. “There.”

Her heels dug into his skin to urge his hips forward and Lucien whimpered.

He had tried not to push all the way in too fast considering how she’d struggled to take him earlier, but riding his face must have worked wonders because her pussy practically sucked him in to the hilt and Lucien lost his mind the moment his hips were against her skin. He gave her a couple of slow strokes, watching out for her reaction, but there was nothing but bliss on her face.

Lucien lost himself in her, thrusting harder, skin slapping together every time and dragging uncontrollable moans from them both. It was nothing like the calculated way he ate her out earlier, or her controlled pace on top of him, this was an animalistic craving. Their skin was slick with sweat, bodies more slippery as he grabbed one of her thighs and hiked it up higher to be able to pound into her.

Elain cried out, the new angle doing something to her that had Lucien cursing through groans. He desperately wanted to feel her come on his cock again, but he was already out of his mind with pleasure and he had no idea how much more she could take. Her cunt tightened on his cock with each thrust, so wet they had to be making a mess of her bedsheets, and Lucien’s mind immediately went to the mess he’d make inside of her when he came.

The thought was enough to make his hips stutter. His arms trembled from holding himself up and keeping up such a hard rhythm, and he focused on not crushing her so hard he didn’t even notice her get close. Elain came so hard she nearly sobbed, pussy clenching around him in a way that made it impossible for him to hold back.

Her small hands clutched Lucien’s back as he lost all control and thrust roughly for another few seconds before he spent himself inside of her with a groan. His cock twitched hard, spilling as deep inside of her as he could get in a moment so earth shattering he knew he’d never recover from her.

Their pants were out of sync, both of their breathings erratic until Lucien leaned down to kiss her again. Elain hummed against his lips softly and let him roll them over again so she was laying on top of him. She broke the kiss to rest her her cheek on his shoulder, their chests now rising and falling together.

“I’ve never, um finished just with someone in me before,” she eventually said, still breathless.

Lucien grinned at the ceiling like an idiot and tried not to let his ego inflate too much. “How was it?”

“Life altering, I think. You should try it.”

“Having someone in me?” Lucien chuckled.

Elain’s giggles were like sunshine. “I’m having a hard time thinking, but I don’t see why not if you’re up for it.” She turned to look at him and cocked her head pensively. “Are you?”

“I could be,” he admitted.

Something sparked in her eyes. “Do you want to find out?”

“Right now?” Lucien was both turned on and alarmed.

“Maybe later,” she laughed at his panic. “Or another time.”

“Another time,” he agreed, like he had never doubted for a second that he would want to see her again.

[beautification-tales]

The Tapes pt. 4

A slow burn transformation tale

Linda continued to ride Brian’s hard cock. She looked at him with a seductive smile as his eyes rolled back. She moaned in glee as she squeezed her thighs around him. "Yes Brian, stay hard for me," she commanded, her voice husky with desire. He grunted in obedience as his hips thrust upward to meet her movements. The bed creaked beneath them, the springs straining with every thrust.

Linda shivered as she felt a hand cup her bosom from behind. “When is it my turn?” The gruff voice said. Linda turned her head slightly seeing Dave shirtless behind her. Linda began to moan louder as she gyrated faster on Brian. “Why wait?” Linda moaned as Dave took his pants off in agreement. Dave continued to grope Linda’s breasts as she lowered her hand, finding the hard phallus behind her. Dave growled as she tugged on his member with her hand. She looked back down at Brian as his expression served as a warning of what was to come. She jerked faster as Dave grunted, unable to resist her expert grip.

She exhaled as she knew what she had accomplished. Two men were now under her complete control. They were enthralled by her and her body was giving them pleasure. Linda grinned as she felt Dave's hands move down to her hips, pulling her closer to him. His hardness rubbed against her hand as she continued to stroke him. She looked down and saw Brian's eyes roll back into his head as he moaned her name. She felt a surge of power course through her veins as she realized the effect she had on these two men.

She felt them shiver as Brian called out her name. The pleasure was contagious, spreading between them like wildfire. She felt Dave’s weight on her back as she she felt Dave lengthen in her hand. She felt the warmth upon her back as Dave’s seed shot out. Brian wasn’t far behind as he grabbed Linda’s hips tightly. His body tensed and he groaned as he filled her. Linda trembled as she came.

Linda woke up quickly from the dream. She pulled her covers off revealing her soaked panties. She felt energized as she felt her hand wander down to feel her wet sex. She smiled as she felt that familiar feeling of pleasure. Linda sighed as she stopped to lick her fingers. “It’s not enough anymore. We need to make our dreams a reality. We need to fuck” Linda nodded in agreement. The new voice in her head was never wrong.

However, the thought of losing her virginity brought up feelings of anxiety. The feeling she had thought was all but a distant memory. “It’s the last step Linda. It’s what you need to finally move on from your past.” She took a deep breath as she got dressed knowing what needed to be done.

She walked quickly to the bar. Dave’s bike was there as usual. Linda now began to understand what was really happening at the establishment. Linda’s naïveté had clouded her judgment but now she could see with complete clarity. Dave was a drug dealer and the bar was his spot. The realization didn’t scare Linda but in fact excited her more.

Dave was at the pool table helping a girl with her shot. He was leaning over her, whispering something into her ear that made her giggle and blush. Linda felt a twinge of jealousy but pushed it aside. She knew this was the night she had to make her move. She walked up to them with purpose, her heart racing in her chest.

“Leave Bitch. Me and Dave need to talk.” Linda’s voice was firm and surprisingly steady. The girl looked at her with a mix of confusion and irritation. Linda curled her hand into a fist ready to stand her ground. Dave slowly stood up and grinned. “It’s ok Sarah. I do have some business that we need to address. Sarah pouted and stomped away as Dave took one last look at her shapely ass. He turned his attention to Linda and growled. “Ok this better be…whoah!” Linda grabbed his cut with both hands and pulled him towards her. “Shut up! Tonight you take my virginity.” She let go and pushed him as she turned around and began walking to the door. Linda stopped and looked over her shoulder. “You coming?”

Dave looked around and fixed his shirt underneath his cut. He put on his jacket and followed her out of the bar. His heart was racing, a mix of shock and excitement pulsing through him. The cool night air was a stark contrast to the heat building inside him as he thought about what she had just said. He had noticed Linda's innocence, but he never thought she would be the one to make the first move. It was like she was a different woman now. Dave felt his member grow hard in his pants as he thought about her confidence.

Linda put the passenger helmet on her head and waited for Dave to sit on his bike.. He looked at her with a smirk, his eyes gleaming with lust. "You're really going through with this?" he asked, his voice thick with desire. “Just shut up and bring me to your place.” Dave no longer hesitated as he hopped on his bike and staunchly started the engine. Linda grabbed tightly to Dave’s waist. She playfully felt his abdomen as she leaned her head into his back. The vibration beneath her made her bite her lip.

The bike roared through the night, the cool air brushing against Linda’s skin as they sped towards his apartment. The thrill of the ride only heightened her anticipation. She could feel the power of the engine, and the heat of Dave’s body through his leather jacket. It was all she could do to keep from rubbing herself against him. When they arrived, Linda practically jumped off the bike, her legs wobbly with excitement.

Dave’s apartment was a bachelor’s paradise. The smell of leather and whiskey filled the air, a stark contrast to the clean, organized chaos of the bar. He led her to the bedroom, a dimly lit space with a large bed covered in black sheets. Linda’s heart raced as she took in the sight, her breath coming in short gasps. Dave noticed her nervousness and took her hand, leading her to the bed. He looked into her eyes, searching for any sign of doubt.

Linda trembled as her adrenaline was subsiding within her. Dave embraced her as they kissed, his hands moving to unbutton her shirt with an urgency that mirrored her own. The anticipation grew as their bodies collided, the softness of her skin against the roughness of his, the scent of their combined desire filling the room.

He laid her on the bed, their eyes locked in a silent agreement of what was about to happen. His calloused hands caressed her body, sending waves of pleasure through her that she had only ever experienced in her dreams. She moaned as his hands reached her breasts, his thumbs flicking over her erect nipples. Linda felt alive, every nerve ending tingling with need.

Dave’s mouth trailed down her neck, leaving a path of hot kisses as he undid her pants. She lifted her hips, allowing him to pull them off along with her drenched panties. The cool air brushed against her exposed sex, making her shiver. He looked at her with hunger, his eyes roaming over her naked body before he leaned in to kiss her again, his tongue demanding entry into her mouth.

Linda’s hands moved to unbuckle his belt, her trembling fingers fumbling with the clasp. She managed to open it, and his pants fell to the floor, revealing his erect cock. It was larger than she had remembered, and she felt a mix of fear and excitement at the thought of it inside her. Dave noticed her apprehension and took over, gently pushing her hands away. He removed his own shirt, revealing a chest that was a canvas of tattoos and muscles.

“It’s time to stand out Linda. Let him unlock the woman you have been holding back.”The voice was seductive, encouraging what would happen next.

Dave's eyes burned with a passion that was both fiery and gentle as he pushed her legs apart. He leaned down and kissed her inner thighs, his warm breath causing goosebumps to erupt along her skin. Linda’s breath hitched as his tongue grazed her clit, the sensation sending electric shocks through her body. She had never felt anything so intense, so overwhelming. Her hands found his hair, pulling him closer as he began to lick and suck, her body responding instinctively.

The voice in her head grew stronger, whispering sweet nothings that encouraged her to let go of her fears. “This is what you’ve been waiting for, Linda. This is your liberation. Embrace it. Embrace him." With each flick of his tongue, Linda felt the tension building, a storm of pleasure brewing within her. She arched her back, her body begging for more.

Dave could feel Linda’s inexperience and took his time, savoring every moment. He knew she was on the edge, but he wanted to make sure she was ready. His tongue circled her clit, applying just the right amount of pressure as he slid a finger inside her tight pussy. She was so wet, so ready, and he could feel her walls quivering around him.

Linda’s moans grew louder as the storm within her reached its peak. She had never felt anything so incredible, so all-consuming. The voice in her head grew fainter as the pleasure took over. Her body tensed and she screamed out his name as she came, her juices coating his finger and her inner thighs.

Dave looked up at her, a smug smile playing on his lips. He knew he had her now, and she was his for the taking. He positioned himself between her legs, his cock throbbing with need. He lined himself up with her entrance and paused, looking into her eyes for any sign of hesitation. Linda’s gaze was filled with want, with a hunger that matched his own. She nodded, giving him the silent consent he needed.

With one swift thrust, he entered her, the sound of her gasp filling the room. It was tight, much tighter than he had expected. He felt a pang of guilt at taking her innocence, but was quickly overwhelmed by the pleasure of claiming her. He pushed deeper, feeling her walls stretch around him. She was so warm, so wet, and she tightened around him like a vice. He had to bite his lip to keep from coming right then and there.

Linda’s eyes widened with a mix of pain and pleasure. She had never felt so full, so complete. The voice in her head was silent now, but she knew it was watching, savoring every moment of her transformation. Dave began to move, his strokes slow and deliberate. He wanted to make this last, to enjoy every second of her first time. She wrapped her legs around his waist, urging him deeper, her nails digging into his back.

The voice grew loud again within her. “Yes! This is what we needed. It feels so good! Let them know your power! Let them witness your strength!” Linda moaned as her eyebrows curled in confusion. She didn’t know what the voice meant but it was never wrong. Linda arched her back as her moans grew louder. “That’s it! Make him yours!” Dave groaned as he felt her muscles tighten around his hard cock.

“Oh Fuck Yes!” Linda screamed as she grabbed Dave tighter. Dave felt Linda grab his neck as she gyrated her hips into him. He used all his willpower to concentrate and hold back his orgasm. Linda looked at him with a sinister grin as with amazing strength flipped him over to his back. “Wait .. what are you?” Dave asked, shocked. Linda placed her finger on his lips, quieting him as she began to ride his cock.

Her movements grew more erratic and powerful. Dave could feel something was off, something primal was taking over her. Her eyes were piercing and her skin felt hot to the touch. “I’m so sorry Dave but I’m in charge now.” Linda whispered into his ear as she picked up the pace, her hips moving like they had a mind of their own. Dave felt his cock hit deeper and harder with each thrust, the pleasure was intense and unlike anything he had ever felt.

He watched as her movements became more intense and experienced. It was like he was fucking a porn star now and he couldn’t hold himself back. “Oh god, you’re so fucking good!” He shouted as he felt himself getting closer to climax. Linda leaned forward, her breasts bouncing in his face as she ground herself against him. She moaned and said “I’m actually the best.”

Dave grunted in agreement as he felt his balls twitch and empty. Linda roared triumphantly as she pumped every last drop from him. Dave tried to catch his breath as Linda’s statement replayed in his head. She was this nerdy frail girl just a few days ago. Now she was a woman who made a criminal cum harder than he ever had before.

Linda hopped off his cock and watched the seed slide down her leg. “ You were right. I do love to ride.” she said with a devilish smirk. Dave laid there, trying to comprehend what just happened. He felt drained but oddly satisfied. He looked at her in amazement. “How?” he managed to say.

Linda stepped away from the bed and picked up her clothes. “Thank you. I needed…this.” She rushed into the bathroom to clean up.

Linda looked in the mirror as she dropped her clothes to the floor. She looked at her body covered in sweat. All of her skin was flush as she felt goosebumps on her arms. She felt her nipples harden again as she licked her lips. The voice spoke to her as if she was having a conversation.

“Hmmm, look at how sexy you are.” Linda felt that familiar tingle that she had now grown to love.

“What are you afraid of now Linda?”

Linda grasped the sink as she looked deeply into her own eyes. She answered her inner voice with one word out loud.

“Nothing”

[umbraastaff]

what's pokeymanz? I'm only really familiar with a very simplistic pokemon system made by the GM for the Unexpectables campaign (it ain't bad, but I'm down for something with potentially more to it), also like, kinda surprised kinda not at people trying to contort 5e to fit pokemon, feels like folks try to cram everything into D&D 5e

yeah! so!! pokeymanz is a very cool system which aims (and IMO succeeds) to capture the feel of the pokémon anime in a game system. it's compatible with basically any generation or concept you can think of in pokémon bc it's such an open-ended while still giving plenty of guidelines for how to handle different kinds of things that appear across the games/shows/etc. there's even rules for playing as a pokémon à la PMD or meowth.

you can download the rulebook HERE, and honestly i'd recommend checking it out if you enjoy pokémon even if you have no interest in the game - it's very funny and enjoyable to read lol. it is based on Savage Worlds and GURPS, but I am not very familiar with either system so I can't speak much on that.

also, silliness aside, of course people can do whatever they want wrt game systems - you should be aiming to do what makes you happy first and foremost. but in my personal opinion, D&D 5e has pretty in-depth mechanics that reflect the goals and even the setting they were built for on a pretty deeply fundamental level, and trying to hack a completely different system into that just seems like... such a pain...

I am pretty sure I have also seen crunchier systems for pokémon made wholesale, which imo seems preferable to hacking it into 5e, even if it might require more work. but even then, I feel like... if I wanted a really robust pokémon battle system with specific rules and complicated math for how everything works, i would simply play the video game pokémon.

i know there are other ones - like whatever they're using on "unbeatable: a kanto journey"? i only just started listening to it and i haven't been able to find any info on what system they're using, but it seems kind of similar to kids on bikes (in that stats are represented by a d4 thru d20 and they explode), but it also seems to have more specific sub-skill checks and a lot of specific rules for how moves work...? so i am not sure what's going on there. been fun so far though.

anyway, check out pokeymanz. it's great timing bc it actually just recently had its final content update and is soon to be out of beta! every so often i get really excited about it and have pipe dreams again of running a campaign lol