#car window tint installation | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

xaphrin · 2 years

Text

Confessions

Finally, six months later, I have finished one of my fics for DamiRae Smut Week 2021. So... here it is. The Batmobile prompt. Finally.

- - -

She could not be serious.

Damian’s face fell as he stared out the window of the car, his eyes firmly on the tapered waist of Raven’s body. The wind and rain picked up, making her blazer flutter around her and showing off the holster strapped to her ribs. She bent down, trying to see through the darkly tinted windows, and lifted two paper cups emblazoned with the logo of his favorite coffee shop. He bit back a groan and lifted his eyes to the ceiling on the Batmobile.

She was serious.

“I know you’re in there, Batman.” Raven only reserved that tone of voice for perpetrators and when Damian was in serious trouble. “Open up the damn car. It’s freezing out here.”

With a rough, grumbling curse, Damian pressed a button to raise the door for her - even though it was against his better judgment. Even after Raven had learned of his alter ego of Batman, he had been really trying to keep her out of his nighttime activities to keep her safe. It wasn’t that he thought that she couldn’t handle herself in a dangerous situation - she had proven that she was more than capable on dozens of different occasions. But, he didn’t want to see her purposefully placed in harm’s way.

Raven, however, seemed to have other ideas about her own safety.

She crawled into the car and flopped down into the bucket seat next to Damian. Handing him one of the cups in her hand, he noticed that it had a phone number scrawled on it and he frowned. He tried not to be a jealous man, but he seemed to notice that more and more people were coming on to Raven. Of course, it didn’t help that they weren’t officially dating either.

“I come all the way out to the docks in the freezing rain and bring you coffee, and you don’t even let me sit in the car with you?” She ran her fingers through her wet hair, shaking it out. “Rude.”

“How did you know where I was?”

Raven pointed to the badge on her hip. “Detective.”

His face fell. Dating one of the most skilled detectives in the Gotham City Police Department had both perks and banes. Raven knowing his every move was definitely on the Bane List. Pressing his lips into a thin line, he took a sip of his coffee, still trying to ignore the phone number on the side of the cup.

“I thought I told you that this stakeout was dangerous.” He huffed out an annoyed breath and looked out into the shadows of the shipping harbor he was in. “This isn’t a place for a date.”

“Mm. You did tell me this stakeout wasn’t for me. And yet, in spite of everything you told me… here I am.” Her tone was enough to explain the full depth of her thoughts on that topic. She did not like Damian telling her what to do, even if it was for her own safety. Ignoring his displeased expression, Raven took a sip of her own coffee and looked around the cabin of the Batmobile, frowning. “Millions of dollars of state-of-the-art technology, and you didn’t think to install a cupholder?”

He gave her a flat stare. “What are you doing here?”

“Oh, right. I meant to text you.” She feigned forgetting why she was currently sitting in his car, drinking coffee like it was a social call. Raven was definitely up to something. “The department got a hot tip a few hours ago. According to sources, the shipment of black market alien tech is actually leaving Metropolis instead of trying to get out of Gotham. Apparently they got word that Batman was going to be out looking for their illicit activities, and thought it was better to change their plans than fight him.”

Shit. Damian started calculating how long it would take him to get there. He could speed back to the cave and get the jet-

“Don’t worry about trying to follow them.” Raven nonchalantly waved him off, taking another sip of her coffee. She glanced at Damian from the corner of her vision. “I already called Jon about it. He’s on it. In fact, he’ll probably have them all wrapped up with a bow on Metropolis PD’s doorstep within the next hour.”

Damian turned and glared at her from the darkness of the cowl. She was right, of course, and it pained him to admit it. Jon would have the perpetrators wrapped up, and he would never let Damian live this down. Damian was seriously regretting introducing Raven to his best friend, and informing her of his Kryptonian heritage. His lips twitched and he continued to stare at her. “So, then why are you here?”

She pulled her lips away from her coffee and glanced at him, her expression unreadable. “Why do you think I’m here? It’s been almost a month since we’ve had a date. I had a few days off, so I thought I might surprise you.”

“You thought coming to a stakeout was a good idea for a date?”

“Well, I’m not exactly a theater person. And you’re taking some bleach blond socialite to the hospital fundraiser tomorrow.” She made an indelicate sound. “So, tell me, Damian. What else are we supposed to be doing for a date?”

Damian winced, and he leaned back into his seat. It had been a few months since Raven had officially agreed to date him - but only in secret for the time being. And dating in secret when he was the “most popular bachelor of the eastern seaboard” left few options in the way of going out. He mostly cooked her dinner and then they would spend the rest of the night reading or watching TV, occasionally playing chess (which he tried to let Raven win at, but she was comically bad). And they would inevitably end up in bed. Raven, he learned quickly, was near insatiable when it came to sex. Not that he minded.

Damian sighed and stared back out to the empty shipping yard, his mouth tugging down into a frown as he thought about their situation. “We need to find a way to introduce you to me - publicly.”

“Do we?” Raven took another sip of her coffee, giving an incredulous snort. “I was under the impression that this was working for us.”

He gave her a flat stare, which he knew she couldn’t see from behind the cowl. Her tone spoke of a desire to date him in a more official sense, but she was also trying to keep her distance too. She was caught between the need for her own anonymity and wanting to be more public with their relationship. Over the past few weeks, Damian could feel her inching closer and closer to wanting the latter of the two options.

He took a sip of his coffee, knowing they were about to launch into an almost-argument that they had weekly. “You’re the one that was so vehemently against dating me publicly.”

“My reputation is at risk with you, Damian. You know that.”

“Yes, and I would prefer to take you to the fundraiser tomorrow, rather than some Instagram model.” He realized that he would like to see her dressed in something more than her usual suit and badge. And his heart fluttered at the thought of dressing her in something slinky and backless, showing her off to the world. Growling low in his throat, he shook his head of the thoughts, choosing to focus more on their conversation.

“What about the Policeman’s Ball?” His mind started racing with a potential scenario. “We can pretend to meet there - I can even have Grayson introduce us. It’s a perfectly sensible place for us to bump into each other and start to get to know one another.”

“I never go to that thing.” Raven waved him off. “I won’t start going now.”

“You will if I make Grayson force you.”

Raven pulled her coffee cup away from her lips and glared daggers at him. “You wouldn’t dare.” She shook her head. “Besides, you’re still not listening to the part where the paparazzi is going to track my every move. I can’t have that and do my job, Damian.” She sighed. “It’s not exactly sleuthing if a potential perpetrator can see me from three blocks away thanks to all the fanfare surrounding me.”

Damian sighed and leaned his head back. “You don’t have to work, you know. I can take care of you and keep you comfortable. There’s no need for you to work - really.”

“Oh, that’s rich.” Raven snorted again, giving him a withering glare. “You think I would work well as a bored, rich mistress? Lounging around your flat and eating bonbons all day. Or worse-” She shivered. “-having to rub elbows and pretend to be interested in your rich friends’ wives. Because that’s definitely not in my skill set.”

“Keeping this secret is killing me, Raven.” He sighed and looked around the car, feeling annoyed at the lack of cup holders. He hated admitting when she was right - which was way more often than he cared to acknowledge. “I don’t want to take some empty headed socialite to this damn fundraiser. I want to take you. I love you.”

“I love you too.” The words were nearly swallowed by the pounding of the rain on the car roof. Raven sat there and stared out the windshield, seeming pensive for a moment. Finally, she sighed and looked back at him. “I want that too. I don’t want sneaking around to be the core of our relationship.”

Damian blinked, surprised by her words. That was the first time she had ever said anything like that out loud, and he felt his head swell with thoughts of her next to him. Of coming home to him, or taking her to shows and galas and out to dinner. A part of him yearned for it in a way he never had before. He didn’t want to hide his feelings for her from the world any longer.

“But… I like my job, Damian.” Raven pushed at her hair and she looked back at him. “I feel like I’m doing something good for the community, and I’m good at my job. I don’t want to give that up… just yet.”

He heard the tone in her voice that spoke of a someday. His heart turned over and he leaned back in his seat, staring out at the empty shipping yard again. “So… now what?”

“Well, your evening is now free.” She smirked at him, a mischievous glint in her stare. “And it’s been far too long since we’ve made out.”

Damian felt his body roar to life. He cleared his throat, somehow keeping his face unreadable. “Is that so?”

“Mm.” She took a sip of her coffee, still smiling. “And… I’m not wearing underwear.” She unbuttoned her trousers and pulled the fly down. A teasing smile pulled at her lips, and Damian watched as she slid her hand into her trousers, obviously toying with herself. He sat there and stared at her, unable to pull his eyes away from the sight of her pleasuring herself. “You should take the night off, Batman. I’m sure you have much more engaging things to do.”

He growled, still watching her. He wasn’t sure he could turn away even if he wanted to. The sight of her, her head leaning back against the seat as a breathy sigh escaped her lips.

“Mm… maybe I’ll just sit here and get myself off in front of you. Let you watch as I masturbate to all the fantasies I’ve had of us together.” Her fingers moved deftly over herself, knowing exactly what she needed to get herself where she wanted to be. It was gorgeous.

Damian watched as her breath hitched, and her teeth sink into her lower lip. The salty sweet scent of sex filled the small cabin of the Batmobile, and Raven let go of a low groan. With a curse, Damian finally forced himself to turn away from the sight of her. He opened his door and dumped both their coffee on the ground before throwing the cups on the floor. He’d clean it up later.

Snarling, he slammed the car into drive and sped off into the shadows. Next to him, Raven continued to finger herself, a desperate whine clinging to her lips. Her free hand reached over and she cupped him through the suit, her touch pressing against his obvious erection. The sensation was dull under the Kevlar, but Damian didn’t care. She was touching him, and he was going to sink his cock deep into her, listening to her scream his name.

“I’ve been thinking about fucking you for so long. Dreaming about it.” Raven’s voice held a husky note, betraying that she was getting closer and closer to orgasm. “Your thick cock pounding into me.” She hummed. “Remember when you went to the opera three months ago. I snuck into your private booth and spent the whole first act sucking you off.”

Damian cursed, and he looked down at his dashboard. Every needle was tipping into red, but he didn’t care. He needed to get her back to the cave and now. He needed to be inside her, or he was going to scream. “I remember during the second act splaying you out on the floor and returning the favor.”

“Mm…”

He glanced over to see her hand moving faster under her clothes. Yes. Just like that. He wanted to hear her cries of pleasure like nothing else.

“God. The memory of you eating me out while beautiful opera played is a fantasy all of itself.” She shuddered and spread her legs as wide as they would go, giving herself more room. “Now, any time I hear opera, I get soaking wet. It’s all your fault.”

“I’m not apologetic,” he growled.

Raven chuckled, the sound stuttering as her fingers moved over her own body. “I never asked you to be. I’m certainly not.”

They were still nearly five minutes out from the entrance to the Batcave, and Damian was forcing his car to its limit. But he couldn’t wait, and neither could Raven. He glanced at her, his voice low and coarse. “Are you gonna come, Raven?”

“Yeah.” She lifted her eyes and looked over at him. “Tell me what you’re going to do to me when we get back to the cave.”

“You’re getting fucked on the hood of the car.”

Her breath hitched again.

“I’m going to rip your pants, so I hope you don’t care too much about that suit.” He turned now a narrow, winding road, maneuvering through the tight curves with practiced ease. Eventually the road turned into a hidden tunnel. The sound of the engine nearly drowned out her panting. “I’m going to shove my cock deep inside you and fuck you in every position I can think of. You’re going to scream my name and keep begging me for more.”

She was keening now, her head thrown back against the seat. “Keep talking. I’m almost there.”

“And then I’m going to take you in every room in the house.” The cave couldn’t come up fast enough.

“Oh? Does that mean we have the whole weekend together?”

“Yes.” He licked his lips. “I am going to fuck you against the library shelves. In the kitchen, smothered in whipped cream. I’m going to eat you out when you’re spread out on the dining room table. In the pool. In the shower. I won’t stop until you’re good and spent, lying limp and satiated in my bed.”

Raven was biting her lip, trying to hold back her screams.

“But first - the cave.”

She threw her head back and let go of a cry as she came. The car finally screeched to a halt inside the cave, and Damian slammed the car into park. In record time he got out of the car and practically yanked Raven out. True to his promises, he ripped her pants as he shoved them down her legs. Fuck it. She wouldn’t need them anyway - not for the rest of the weekend.

He barely managed to unfasted the catches in his suit to release his cock. Raven draped her chest over the hood of the car, spreading her legs wide. She was swollen and wet, ready for him to take her, and he was practically salivating at the sight.

“Don’t make me wait any longer. Fuck me, Damian.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Cursing under his breath, Damian slammed his aching cock into her tight body. Fuck yes. Lights exploded behind his eyes, and he groaned out a curse from behind clenched teeth. Shivering, Raven pushed back against him, urging him on. He was relentless, his body moving at a speed that seemed inhuman. He needed to come now, and he wanted Raven to come with him. The sound of their bodies slamming together and the flutter of his cape was the only sound in the cave. It was raw and primal, and it felt like sin incarnate.

Raven’s hands were pinned under her chest, and she was meeting every thrust with another desperate beg. More. Faster. Harder. Each word running into the next until she was coming, her nails digging into the hood of the Batmobile. Damian fucked her right through her orgasm, before he found himself falling over the edge with her. Lights exploded behind his eyes and he felt like he was having an out-of-body experience. Every muscle strained as he let wave after wave of pleasure consume him like a storm.

Finally, completely spent, he sagged against her slight form. “Fuck.”

Raven stretched out against the hood, giving a content sigh. She looked over her shoulder at him. “I think that’s the only appropriate response.”

Damian smirked at her before he pulled out of her body. When he looked down, he could see her plump ass bright red from where his suit had dug into her skin. He winced and a small amount of remorse filled his chest, as he started stripping off his suit.

“You shouldn’t have goaded me.”

“No?” Raven sounded rather pleased with herself and she turned around to stare into his face. She started undressing what was left of her clothing, kicking off her low heeled shoes and dropping her holster onto the ground. “I think you needed a little goading.”

Damian looked down to see his cum slick between her thighs, and his cock twitched. “Is that right?”

“Mm.” Finally, Raven was naked and she started towards the elevator for the house. “Yes. Now… come here and fuck me again.”

His eyebrows knitted together. “In the elevator?”

“You said every room in the house, Damian.” Her smile turned teasing. “Don’t disappoint.”

#damirae #demonbirds #adult nonsense ahead #sorry for the delay on this one #it's been a year friends

221 notes · View notes

jiminrings · 3 years

Text

heartburn; intermission 02.

wordcount: 4k

glimpse: it's about time that he confronts her.

alternatively, jimin ends his emotional affair with eunji but it goes anything but smoothly.

[ part one + intermission + part two + intermission 02 + finale ]

notes: a tiny glimpse at jimin’s pov before part three is released. gonna reiterate again that heartburn and it’s installments will hurt, so pls read with caution xx

as always, lmk what you think <3 send in feedback n love to my askbox anytime!! even replying to this post sends me over the moon :)

The prettiest woman Eunji's ever laid her eyes on is herself.

She knows it because her first memory is from when she was a toddler, suddenly gaining consciousness in the moment that her mother coos to her that she's the prettiest baby her doctor's ever delivered in her whole career, reminiscing about how the staff of the whole delivery room came to take a look at her as soon as they heard her cries.

It's with great pride to know that even freshly out of the womb, she was already pretty. Normally, all the babies that are just delivered look like mush wherein people would take bets to familiarize the features into their parents, when it's apparent that no one could tell.

But with her, just seeing her baby pictures that were first snapped when the doctor was still holding her up barely after her mother's last push, she knows her parents aren't lying. Knows that the hospital staff's reactions are justified. Knows that even through the camera grain and the harsh medical lights, she was born pretty.

Eunji knows it because growing up as a child, she would always be picked as the muses of her sections. Always the one to be photographed wearing the school uniform so it could be displayed in the registrar's office for the parents to know what their daughters should look like wearing it. She rarely ever takes public transportation and it's only when her family's cars are all occupied for the day, but she immediately gets offered a seat even if she's barely set her toe inside the subway.

She knows how she makes people look twice and crane their heads even if she's already walked past them. How she was barely a rookie and yet the veterans of both the beauty and music industry have already heard of her. How she's highly-sought for not even a fraction of her time.

Eunji knows it because all her life, she's always been assured how great she is. Her family is her support system who makes her affirm each and every day how great she is and how no one could ever be at her level, because where she's at is her level alone.

She is the woman of her own dreams.

Eunji has a skip on her step as she walks out of her car holding two cups of coffee in hand because who is she kidding now? All the extra portions she buys anyways are never meant to account Yoongi into the equation — it's only for Jimin.

There's something about Jimin that entices her, something she's never seen quite like it before in all the men she's known. He makes quite the impact whenever he's in the room, gaining attention for himself without even meaning to. There's something about how he holds himself with gravitas and yet humbleness at the same time; knowing just how powerful he is without showing the need to.

At first, she thought she would like Yoongi more but that hope immediately dissipates because he's smarter than her. He's more sensible to the feeling that she feels like he could see right through her.

It's okay, he's not a loss.

Jimin is the exact fit for her anyway.

She struts into the elevator as if she owns the place, humming to herself to fill the space since her bodyguards aren't there with her because after all, this is her personal schedule. Her windows are tinted. She insisted to be alone. It's the weekend, and Eunji comes to the studio.

She doesn't even know if Jimin would be here anyway because she knows for sure that Yoongi doesn't, aware that the two of them have similar work habits, but she takes her chances anyway.

For sure, Jimin would come into work. Just two days ago, the two of them had an hour-long conversation about which airlines, classes, and plane seats are the best (he seems to know an awful lot about planes and she doesn't know why) and she's pretty sure she made him laugh out loud atleast five times. By that evening, Jimin hasn't seen her texts. By the next day, Jimin doesn't even reply.

But Eunji just knows she's made a connection with him somehow, feeling a non-existent telepathic link that he'd be here at the same time she would be.

She rounds the all too familiar hallway to Jimin's studio and rings on his bell because he's never really told her the password (your birthday) to it, much to her half-joking. She would've attempted to powder the keypad with her translucent setting powder, but she's been around enough cameras to know there'd be one in the hallway and she may look a little crazy.

She rings it again with a smile, unused to how compared to the other times she's came here before bearing gifts in the form of food to eat them together, Jimin would normally answer her at the first ring.

She does it for the third time and that's only when she hears the door beep, taking off her shoes to let herself in even if she hasn't heard his sing-song tone to do so.

"Hiii, I brought coffee!"

Eunji drawls and sets the tray on his table, having done it several times before for the past two weeks to know to put it in the middle where an out-of-place large crochet square is, not looking that entirely perfect because it looks like it's just been made randomly. She doesn't know why she puts it there it too, but she's seen Jimin do it the first time they had dinner and found herself following.

She turns to look at him on his seat completely still, not swishing around while sat on it and not following her to the couch either, making her move automatically.

Eunji's just about to put her hands on Jimin's shoulders enough to jostle him slightly, her manicured nails barely even landing on the fabric of his clothes as he seethes.

"Don't touch me."

It's the roughest and snappiest Eunji's ever heard from Jimin, her threaded eyebrows knitting at the middle.

She doesn't realize why he sits so still in his chair is because he wasn't even doing anything prior to her arrival. He hadn't done any work at all because if he were in the process of it, he would've been sitting more comfortably with messier pieces of paper on his desk, countless hums and bits of singing under his breath.

Instead, Jimin is rigid in his seat. He's dressed casually and even if he's done it before, he looks a little more rough around the edges and the bags under his eyes tell that they haven't been the product of reasonable hardwork. His face is dull but his eyes are even more wearisome, a cloud of heaviness engulfing and the people around him whole.

"I only came here to stop whatever it is between us."

Eunji straightens her posture at that as she remains standing, tilting her head at the sudden change of atmosphere in the room that's already turned tensioned even before she walked in.

"Why? What's going on between us?"

Jimin lightly scoffs under his breath because he should've known. Should've seen this coming with the way Yoongi told him on the second day since working together that she feels off. Off in a sense that he couldn't detail into words back then, but off now that he could see exactly through her.

He humors her but it's not with good intention, nodding his head.

"You wanna know what's between us?"

Eunji knows her eyes are pretty but she has an inane talent for making them look expressive but look thoughtless within the next second as she juts her bottom lip slightly, tucking her hands behind her.

"I have a fiancée and yet I wanted to spend more time with you than her," Jimin cuts straight to the point as he breezes through his use of present tense, looking at her directly. "I cheated on her with you and you know that."

If Eunji is surprised, she doesn't let it show.

One of the branches in show business that she hasn't entered yet is acting and she feels like she she should enter it soon enough because she knows she looks pretty when she cries, eyes glazing and lips reddening.

But under Jimin's gaze, she falters. She feels like he can see right through him as if he became a trained eye overnight and managed to overlook all her little stutters in words and in actions.

"You didn't cheat on her," Eunji smiles, unsure if she's reassuring Jimin or herself. She's on her heels and yet she still cowers under his gaze, a quip already forming behind her pearly teeth. "And what do you mean I know that? You mean, I know that I make you happier than she makes you?"

If Jimin looks offended, he lets it show.

He scowls at Eunji in disbelief but she purposely unfocuses her eyes despite setting her gaze on him, not wanting to waver one bit at the insecurity she feels. "That you love talking to me?"

She's been secure her whole life. She's reassured a million times if she's faced with uncertainty for only a hundred. She knows what she wants and what she deserves and she knows that it shouldn't be his scoffs because he should have nothing but admiration for her. "That you love me?"

That's something that makes Jimin glare at her wholly.

He glares at her because he's never been more sure of anything to disprove in his whole life. He knows the exact answer to it and he'd rather talk now than hold his silence forever in order to just make Eunji believe what she wants to believe.

He went to the studio with the intention to break it off. Quickly but surely. No unnecessary intentions and retorts — only wanting to get the words out his mind and heart before leaving her and whatever they had completely.

But this, this just sets Jimin off unlike no other because he knows it's not the truth and he'd rather lose himself completely than tell another lie.

"I don't love you."

The silence is thick but it gets even thicker when he adds, not even taking the time to relish one bit with how Eunji's mouth parts.

"I was infatuated with you," he admits with a bitter taste on his tongue, tasting much of his own that he now lies in. "I was entertained with the idea of you because I'm an asshole that happened to crave the attention."

Eunji doesn't expect the bluntness but she doesn't expect either. the word vomit that comes past her lips, scoffing in offense that it makes her cross her arms across her chest at the feeling of being in front of someone that knows where it hurts.

"Infatuation? Come on, everybody loves me, Jimin."

She says it with much conviction and yet she doesn't know if she's managing to convince anyone at all, much less herself.

She's secure and always has been her whole life — she should not be weak and insecure now.

"Call it what you want, but you were infatuated with me enough to cheat on your fiancée."

It doesn't faze Eunji that she's admitted to Jimin cheating on you with her when just mere seconds ago, she swore up and down to the heavens that he didn't do such a thing.

Even he isn't fazed that she succumbs immediately in attempt to protect her crumbling wall of pride that she's anything but loved and adored.

"I was. I was blinded enough," he clenches his jaw, blinking only once in attempt to remove the image of his house without your things in it, no longer given the definition of a home. "If I loved you, I would've begged you to be with me the moment we were over."

Eunji parts her lips open but this time it's not out of offense or shock — no, none of that. She looks like she's amused, the same smile she gives when she's complimented by a host beyond their script.

"Ah. You and Y/N are already broken up?" she clicks her tongue, disproving her assumption that Jimin's only coming to her now to end their emotional affair because he didn't want to get found out. She hums pleasantly, playfully dropping her eye into a wink as he finds it within her modicum to grin. "Sounds like you're free game to me."

Jimin feels nothing but anger flame at the pit of his stomach that breaches right through his ribs, his protective streak over you weighing heavily on his chest as he repeats her words in his head.

He has perfect pitch. His ears are trained to hear even the slightest inconsistency. Jimin knows what he's heard and by the way Eunji realizes her slip-up, she's far too late to even excuse it.

"How the fuck do you know her name?"

She's frozen because she didn't think that far enough. Became too cocky too quick that she didn't realize she's dancing around in someone else's territory without knowing the safeguards.

She rethinks if she can get out of it this time, much like how she played off the underlying curiosity and misplaced excitement when Yoongi told her that Jimin's already taken with a wife. She could tell him that he told her your name, but even his best friend could tell such a lie that Yoongi would never put you in her way, simply because she is far too low for you to stoop down to.

"Nothing a little basic research couldn't do."

Eunji doesn't necessarily think she's a genius but she knows she's thick-skinned. She's oddly courageous because she knows she has a fallback; countless of people there for her in the event that she slips on her way up.

She's oddly brave even when she whips out her phone to pull up a picture of you from her album dedicated specifically for you, making the room that's already tensioned even more high-strung than before.

Jimin looks at the photo on the screen. You when you were a teenager, in your high school yearbook, with a quote you materialized out of thin air because your parents weren't there to give you ideas. It's a picture you've never posted even for throwbacks or for memorabilia's sake. It's a picture that you didn't like seeing because it brings up bad memories that you can't even remember specifically, but you can feel.

Eunji smiles victoriously to see Jimin look so transfixed on your photo that she's obtained, happy to have his undivided attention even if it's on her phone, which is of course, and extension of her somehow.

"I'm prettier than her, see?"

Not a millisecond later passes that Jimin grabs her phone from her hand and hurls it down to the floor, a sickening crack filling the room when he stomps it with his heel.

She whimpers but it's cut short when he points an angry finger at her, standing up to his full height while she tries to shove away the fact that she looks even more pathetic this way.

"What the hell are you doing this for?"

"To show you what you're missing out on."

Eunji doesn't miss a beat when she replies as if she's been waiting for that question all along; as if she was bred to answer it with her life's purpose, as if her phone wasn't obliterated in front of her mere seconds ago.

"To show you what we could be."

She personally thinks she doesn't have any flaws but if it was required to have one, it would be this. She never admits it but her flaw is to have everything within reach that the second she doesn't have what she has her eyes on, she'll feel herself convulse from the inside out.

Her palms itch with her desire to constantly have more even if she previously insists that her self-worth is based from within and not her capacities to have anything else that she wants.

She haves more than she lacks but it fuels her with even more of the drive to prove herself and her supposed lack of insecurity.

"I'm more than her, Jimin."

"You will never be more than her," he grits through his teeth, eyes flaring in anger. "No one would ever amount to me more than Y/N could."

She has no shame when she attempts to back him into a corner, all for the sake of wanting to prove a point that she's the furthest thing from pathetic.

"But you cheated on her with me."

She uses the term even if she doesn't understand it fully. She owns it completely even if she's barely even touched his arm and all they shared are text messages and not even of the dirty kind. Eunji takes it all, if it means that she'll get to prove herself worthy.

"That's because I'm an asshole who wasn't thinking straight when I invited you in to eat dinner with me," Jimin doesn't falter even once because unlike her, he's already past the stage of residual denial in order to make himself feel better. "And that's because you take so much pride in being the other woman, don't you?"

Eunji, instead of being offended, giggles.

Being the other woman doesn't sound so bad, does it? It implies to her that anyone's willing to drop whatever they have for her, the other woman. It makes her feel seen. Makes her feel secure. Even if her only support system is of herself because she's hidden, it makes her feel special.

"You just love a good chase."

She takes a single step to plant her foot down firmly, arms quickly extending to try and pull Jimin to her hold to kiss him but as her eyes close, she doesn't even graze the pasture of what she wants.

She feels herself stumble a few steps back as she feels Jimin push her and take a step back out of disgust, the vein on the side of his neck growing visible.

"I said don't fucking touch me!"

He's enraged as much as he is repulsed. He wants to get to his house to wash Eunji's grasp away because it feels like she's a pan that's just burnt him without him ever wanting to come near it in the first place.

She's perplexed because she didn't anticipate that she'd be pushed away, quite literally at that, failing to see why she was even distanced in the first place.

"Huh. You just pushed me," she shakes her head.

"Imagine if they learned that my male producer pushed me."

"Imagine if they learned that their beloved idol tried forcing herself on her male producer."

She clearly didn't expect the retort because she thought it'd be enough to make Jimin regret rejecting her in the first place, scoffing as she looks up at him.

"I can ruin your career."

Reflecting to how he looks down on her, he doesn't even blink at her threat or her lousy attempt at it that doesn't even scare him the slightest bit.

"You can ruin me?" he asks mockingly, pouting in a way that gets to her nerves unlike anything. She's the one who's used to mocking, not the one to be the receiving end of it. Jimin only scoffs, rolling his eyes at her. "I can destroy you."

"What do you have that I don't?" Eunji challenges him and she's genuinely curious to find out about his answer.

Jimin has a fanbase but it's not like hers. She's an idol, what she has is much more plentiful that what he could have. She has a support system in which most wouldn't even dare to be critical of her, an unyielding support system that barely weighs down on her morality.

"The regret. The shame," he says truthfully. He feels each one every second of the day and all the shards of it wouldn't even relent as he tries to lay asleep, but Jimin welcomes it. He welcomes the pain and the throbbing because it's what reminds him that he's still there. "The accountability."

"You think I won’t tell the truth to the media?" he challenges Eunji right back, taking a step forward to her that makes her take one backward with a snarl. "You can make rumors about me but I can tell the truth."

Jimin can't bear to say one more lie and he means it with sincerity, knowing that he'd take everything that's thrown to him at this point.

"Drag me down all you want but I’m taking you down even deeper with me."

He doesn't care to consider the logistics that if this whole thing were to happen, he'd be able to bounce back quicker. He's a producer; he could be faceless and nameless for all he cares.

His job is the last thing on his mind.

"I don't care if you defame me because I know I deserve it."

He's certain of the pain that he feels. He's certain that feeling the ache and the stings wouldn't necessarily mean that he's redeeming himself through it or that it would warrant your forgiveness, but he'd rather want it than have nothing at all to remind him of what he did.

He knows what he deserves but he knows what you don't. He doesn't want a single drop of harm nor unnecessary and invasive attention in your life because he'd rather die protecting you it from it all despite being nothing to you, rather than seeing you take it even if he means everything in your life.

"But if you even so much as breathe in Y/N's direction or come near her."

He warns with his tone, his finger pointing directly at Eunji that's struggling by the second to even hide her feelings over his intimidation.

"If you even try and search up her name and do whatever sick plan you have because you want to be mine even if you know you will never have my heart," he spites, eyes not wavering once. "Because you want to be the other woman so bad because you know you'll never be first."

Jimin exhales once, barely able to steady himself with how he can't even wrap his head around how this person in front of him even dares to threaten you in his presence.

"I will make you regret it, Eunji."

She doesn't speak as he stares down on her but she gathers the remaining bit of her misplaced bravery when he turns his back on her.

"You're just as evil as me."

"I'd like to think that I'm the lesser evil," he chuckles as he shakes his head, coming to her one last time as he puts something into his pocket. "People like you never change, Eunji. You are nothing more than superficial."

"Leave Y/N out of this."

"These are my sins alone," Jimin gathers the last of his things and intentionally pushes the button that's been lit red ever since she came here, the realization to Eunji hitting belatedly that he's been recording ever since. "And Y/N will not be the one to pay for them."

Jimin pockets the flashdrive and barely spares a glance at her, pointing to his chest as he makes it clear.

"I will."

#feedback pls and thank u <3 if u excuse me i'll be watching my show and further reduce my sleep into just three hours #jimin imagine #jimin oneshot #jimin oneshots #jimin angst #jimin angst imagine #jimin x reader #jimin x y/n #jimin au #park jimin imagine #park jimin oneshot #jimin scenario #jimin fanfic #jimin x you #bts jimin imagine #jimin fic recs

830 notes · View notes

hertstintsandwraps · 4 years

Link

You have to be careful while selecting the car window tinting company since it is their performance that decides the car tints’ lifespan.

In London, the car owners prefer to add variety to the car windows after six months or one year.

https://bit.ly/3fDPdY3

#Car Window Tints #car window tinting company #Car Tints Install #car owners

0 notes

evesmithcool · 4 years

Link

#Car Window Tinting Solano #Best Car Alarm Installation In Napa

0 notes

automotiveappearancepros · 2 years

Text

#car window tinting ohio #window tint columbus ohio #window tinting installer #auto tint columbus ohio

1 note · View note

chattahoochiecoochie · 3 years

Text

Let’s Go, Cowboy

Summary: Mick and his girlfriend share a few sweet moments before and after the race at COTA, rounding out their time together in Austin.

Word Count: 1.9k

Context Clues: Georgia is the daughter of Mick’s engineer and is from the American south.

Authors Notes: This is part of a mini series, written for an oc and Mick Schumacher. Each installment can be read as a standalone, they will be posted in chronological order. The last installments can be found here.

When Georgia woke, the bedroom was empty, the large house silent and unmoving. Rolling around the large bed, tangled in Mick’s pile of blankets, she came face to face with a card. Written in shaky handwriting was a short note, hearts dotting the bottom of the paper. Take the truck, I left the keys in your purse. See you soon, my love. My love, my love, my love. He’d whispered it all weekend, into her ear, against her chest, onto her lips. The same tingling feeling rose up in Georgia’s stomach as she read the words on paper. My Love.

The clock on the bedside table let her know that she didn’t have time to waste. Mick had left hours earlier, slipping from the room on quiet feet. She didn’t have the same time to be so gentle. Throwing the room into disarray as she worried over the outfit she’d brought. White snakeskin boots might be too much, and everyone was going to be dressed up. This wasn’t like the Nascar races she’d grown up on. Nobody else would be wearing denim.

Clothes cluttered the room as she tossed them about, filtering through one dirty t-shirt after another. Georgia would be going to COTA as herself, a costume wasn’t going to appear in any of her bags, no matter how many times she checked. Buttoning her denim shorts, she wiggled her foot in the morning sunlight, watching the rhinestones of her boot sparkle. “Damn fine pair a’ boots.”

With her fringed jacket and purse, she skipped through the Schumacher home, prancing down the steps like a woman on a mission. The track was only half an hour away, and with the pass Mick had left behind she’d be on the paddock in no time, the traffic of visitors far behind her.

Sure enough, only forty five minutes later, after a quick battle with the gate attendant, Georgia was rolling the truck into the paddock’s parking lot, slipping the square body frame in between an Alfa and a Ferrari, giggling to herself when she caught a glimpse of her outfit in the tinted windows of the neighboring sports car.

Tossing the passkey over her neck, she set off, strolling through the pit lane with ease. Haas was at the very end, blocked by a few of her favorites. Glancing at the time on her phone, she wandered slowly into the nearest box, the home of the W12. Commenting on the front wing, a casual smile on her face, it wasn’t long before she stood next to an engineer as he worked.

Time slid by like water, floating Georgia through the garage like a tide, until she was face to face with the man himself. Enthralled by his understanding of the mechanics, and his interest in talking about it, even so close to the race, Georgia stood completely still, offering small questions as the world champion pointed out features of the car, introducing her to each person responsible for it.

“That’s Dave over there, technically a few people are in charge of tire temperature but I like Dave the best.” Lewis laughed, pointing to a stocky man, a wide grin on his face. Dave waved a gloved hand at her before turning back to his computer screen. “You’re with Haas, you said?”

“Was it the jacket?” Georgia flexed her arms, showing off the American flag pattern that covered the fabric.

“Ha! Maybe, maybe, yeah. With the team, or?” Lewis leaned back against the wall of the garage, briefly turning away to give someone the go ahead for a bit of race prep.

“Mick Schumacher, actually,” Georgia peered out into the pitlane, the sound of music she’d heard early was growing increasingly loud. At the very end of the lane she could see a few red and blue clad men dancing about. “Matter a’ fact, I think that’s my cue.”

“I’ll see you then, Georgia, was it?” He smiled broadly at her, stepping to the side as he bid farewell.

“Georgia Coe!” Yelling, she walked backwards, offering a wave as she skipped towards the Haas garage. “Good luck, mister!”

Sailing into the Haas garage, a newfound confidence in her heels, Georgia snuck up behind her boyfriend, a finger over her lips to ask for silence from the crew as she surprised him. “Howdy!”

“Georgie!” Mick turned on his heel, sweeping her off the ground and into a hug, his hands pressed into the bare skin of her back as he held her close. “I was worried, you’re late.” He whispered the last part to her, not wanting to seem overly possessive.

“I was with Lewis. Helluva car they got down there.”

“You met Hamilton?” Mick raised a brow, peering down at her curiously.

“Nice guy, gotta good team too.”

“What’s this about my daughter fraternizing with the opposition?” A voice from behind spoke up, a deep bellowing sound taking over the room.

“Daddy!”

“Hey, kiddo!” Another sweeping hug, the old man taking his daughter off her feet. Setting her down gently, he gave her a knowing smile. “Those them boots Mama gotcha?” The sophistication of his work voice gone in an instant as he addressed his youngest.

“Ya’ like em?”

“Sparkly.” He gave a toothy grin, pulling her in for another hug, this one more shallow than the last, as he looked at his computer. “Y’all go on, I’ve gotta get ready.”

“Aye, aye, Cap’n!” Georgia rustled her fathers hair before skipping away from the standing desk, leaping back into her boyfriend’s arms. Georgia pressed a kiss to his cheek, grinning as a blush appeared on his face. “What’s my Daddy got y’all playin.”

She moved quickly, waltzing over to the stereo system, her hips swaying as she moved around car parts. “I think Randy Travis.”

“No Toby Keith?” Georgia scoffed, scooping the ipod off the counter top. “Joe Diffe, Alabama, Dolly, Daddy where’s the race day music?”

“That’s all Mick, kiddo!” Her father called across the room, speaking over his shoulder.

“I couldn’t find what you always play for me. This stuff sounds similar though.”

“Baby, that’s precious, but you gotta ‘ave a little Toby Keith on a day like today.” Georgia unplugged the ipod, putting her phone in its place. After several minutes of scrolling and a bit of chit chat with the team members cycling through the garage around her, she found a song worthy of the day.

“How ‘bout that dance you owe me?” Georgia took Mick by the hand, swinging her hips as she let him toward the open space in front of the garage. “Come on y’all!” Waving to the group of men wandering about she began to step in line to the song.

One by one they joined the couple in the pit lane, unaware of what to do they followed Georgia’s steps, clapping out of tune as the chorus came on.

“That’s it Sean, heel, toe, shuffle!” Georgia shuffled forward, scuffing her boot heel into the ground as she stepped, clapping to the rhythm of the song. “Aaand, swing to the right, y’all got it!”

Just as the song faded out, another of the greatest hits began to carry out over the speaker. “We’ve got to go get ready, it’s race time baby.”

“Come on now, this is one of my favorites!” Gary came bounding out of the garage, stepping in next to his daughter, twirling in a circle with the line dance.

“One more.” Mick raised a finger, his tone teasing. “Just one.”

“Atta boy!” Gary laughed, raising a fist as the song picked up. “Nikita go get that old man and get on out ‘ere!”

A slow and borderline belligerent blonde rose from his seat in the back of the garage, grimacing as he disappeared into a hallway, hopefully to draw out the man in charge. When he did finally reappear, Guethner trailing slowly behind him, the song was fully underway, the crew cheering along to the lyrics as they kicked their shoes in time with it.

“You got to saddle up your boys, you got to draw a hard line!” A broken harmony carried through the paddock, a range of voices cobbling together one after the other.

“When the gun smoke settles we'll sing a victory tune!” Georgia pointed to Mick, goading him to take the next verse.

“We'll all meet back at the local saloon!”

“And we'll raise up our glasses against evil forces singing!” She swung her head around, her hair whipping in a low wind as she looked at the crowd of men around her. With a grin, she raised her fist, cheering alongside her father as they came together for the last line.

“Whiskey for my men, beer for my horses!”

As the clapping died down and the whistling ceased, the crew wandered back into the box, reinvigorated as they resumed their preparations. “That was one.” Mick elbowed his girlfriend gently in the side, kissing her temple as he followed after his team.

“Smartass!” Georgia called after him, wrapping an arm around her father, walking step to step with him as he made for his desk once more.

Shortly after Nikita rolled back into the garage, Mick followed, pushing the car right into the waiting hands of his pit crew. Georgia stood next to her father, waiting patiently for Mick to disengage the steering wheel and step out. Taking longer than expected, she leaned over, looking into the cockpit.

“Now?” Mick looked behind her, popping the visor of his helmet open so he could look at her father. Turning just in time to catch a thumbs up from her dad, Georgia whipped her head back around to her boyfriend. “Georgia, baby, what do you say we do this all over again in Turkey?”

Georgia’s heart skipped a beat, the words playing over in her mind. She was supposed to leave Austin with her dad. She had work on Tuesday. She was supposed to spend the next several weeks alone as Mick traveled for work and then spent time at home in Switzerland. She had work on Tuesday. Shocked by the question, her brain seemed to cave in around one single hang up, holding onto reality to beat the excitement growing in her chest.

“Daddy-”

“I ran it by Sawyer weeks ago. He moved the schedule around, he’s taking a few of your appointments, the rest were rescheduled. Don’t worry about it, kiddo, go have fun.”

“Really?”

“My favorite kid deserves more than a dirty old workshop.” Her fathers livelihood was far from some ol’ workshop but the sentiment remained. Leaving her view of the cockpit, Georgia pulled her dad in for a hug, nestling her face against his chest as she whispered her thanks.

“Still here!” Yelled Mick, chuckling as she let go of her father, peering once more down at him, a grin set on her face.

“Come on, cowboy. We got places ta’ go!” She grabbed his gloved hand, tugging at him as he worked his way out of the car and onto solid ground.

“Happy, my love?” Mick gave her a quick kiss, checking her eyes for an honest answer.

“Always with you.” Georgia gave him a soft nudge with her boot heel, the rhinestones catching briefly on his racing suit. Austin to Turkey, what kind of girl would she be if she wasn’t?

#wooooweee #well its over now i guess #mick fic #chattahoochiecoochie writes #mick schumacher #the mini series #mick schumacher x reader #mick schumacher x oc #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic

75 notes · View notes

milfuen · 3 years

Text

close enough

synopsis: in which they spend their night in a rather domestic way.

pairings: kazuha & fem!reader

word count: 3.9k

warnings: present tense used in writing.

(Y/N) can think of a handful of places where he could be right now. But certainly, she wouldn't have thought of him being in her apartment at one in the morning, digging for scraps in her fridge, only to find a box of energy drinks and empty space. Though he shouldn’t have expected anything.

The woman smiles lazily at his failure to find something to fill his stomach, arms splayed across her midriff as she takes up the entire space of her couch. She sighs when Kazuha tries yet again to find food in an obviously empty fridge. He’s better off with those drinks, honestly. He’s gonna be awake and talking the entire night.

"Do you have anything?" he asks, closing her fridge angrily and sitting cross-legged in front of (Y/N). She side-glances the non-existent space in her couch, realizing a tad too late that there’s no way Kazuha would have sat beside her.

"I order takeout, Kaedehara," she murmurs, eyes closing momentarily before she forces it open again. Why'd he even have to wake her up? He could have just stolen anything and kept quiet about it, (Y/N)'s sure she wouldn't even notice.

"Why are you like this?"

"You're not any better than me." For crying out loud, this guy lives on nothing other than water. If she didn't get him food daily, he would have been dead ever since their senior year of high school.

“Can you order something, then?” Kazuha whines a little, obviously exhausted and hungry. (Y/N) squints at this, grumbling to herself. Of course, she doesn’t move to pick up the telephone on one of the side tables.

"I have some Twinkies in my room," she replies. Kazuha doesn't argue further; it's food, why would he? Beggars can’t be choosers. Though he noticed her deliberately noting the snacks in her room after he suffered to save herself the trouble of ordering food this late. He stands up and leaves for (Y/N)'s room.

It's been a few minutes since Kazuha barged into her place. Nothing really changed except for the extra body in her flat. She blows a breath through her mouth, pushing herself up in a sitting position. The tall glass windows are obscured by the blackout curtains she installed months ago. The darkness contributes to why she’s still drowsy even now.

Light usually tells her that it’s time to wake up—or not be tired. (Y/N) doesn’t exactly know why that is so, as she probably only skimmed over the words from a Wikipedia article somewhere. Her heater is the only source of sound amidst Kazuha’s absence. Its whirring occupies the white noise, much like how the engines of cars do.

(Y/N) blows a breath through her mouth again. It’s quiet. It is the night’s generous gift, after all. Silence for yourself. This is nice, in a way. More so since I’m with Kaedehara. If only he let her sleep. It would be much nicer. Applying for jobs isn’t fun, but she has to do it . . . because she’s an adult and stuff.

A hand on her shoulder makes her flinch. “What’s up with you?” It’s in typical horror fashion, too. (Y/N) actually has to take a moment before she responds. It’s mostly her fault since she was being thoughtful and not in a nice person way.

Kazuha gazes at her as light floods into her eyes. He’s holding a half-eaten Twinkie to his mouth. The dim lighting tints his optics in a violet hue. (Y/N) blinks, taking the white remote beside her and warming the room. It is suddenly way too cold. She won’t mention just how pretty he is at the moment.

(Y/N) lets Kazuha settle beside her and she takes his ring finger. Not even his hand, just the ring finger. (Y/N) raises it in a way that has Kazuha’s palm hanging in the air. Kazuha presses his lips together, just observing her as he chews on his Twinkie.

(Y/N) sucks in a breath as she takes a glance at his lower region, dropping the hold she has on his finger. "What the—why is there a knife in your pocket?"

"You want it?" Kazuha turns away, red on his cheeks as he notices what she did and takes a swig of the caffeinated drink he got on the way back to the living room. He definitely misinterpreted what she was doing. Kazuha was thinking that she was checking him out—and that’s perfectly fine. But (Y/N) could have at least been subtle about it.

"How’d you even get that in the complex?"

He sighs, "I haven't killed anyone yet, don't worry."

"You shouldn't!"

"Why would I, even? I just accidentally brought this from my kitchen counter after I failed miserably at cutting apples."

(Y/N) digs her fingers in her hair, frustrated. "You should have started with that!" It’s confirmed, she’s dying early because of this kid. Be it because of a heart attack, or just built up stress because of the things he does. “You had apples; why did you even come here in the first place?”

Kazuha tilts his head thoughtfully. “What if I wanted to bother you?”

“That’s not a clever reason.”

“I don’t need to make up an excuse when I can just be honest.” His serious face and tone seal the deal for (Y/N). This man is in love with her, period. All counter-arguments will be shot down by some imaginary council (Y/N) made up in her head.

In a disgusted way, (Y/N)’s nose scrunches and she pushes Kazuha away from her. “More like what’s up with you?” She shakes filth off of her hands. He plays along, staring at her in disbelief which collapses into laughter. Kazuha balls the plastic wrapper in his palms and tosses it into the kitchen.

“Come on!” (Y/N) points at him, then at the empty Twinkie wrapper. “Throw it in the trash can!” Kazuha ignores her for a moment but stands up to do it anyway, mumbling under his breath. She bets he’s cursing her out.

Their relationship has always been this way. Ridiculous bickering here and there, and the normal conversation mostly. It’s not like how it would be hard to talk to someone you meet daily, they just ease into it. They’ve known each other for years, why would they still have a hard time talking to each other?

(Y/N) looks over the backrest of the couch and sees Kazuha scrutinizing her framed diploma on the wall. “Trying to think of a way to tell me that it’s real proud to hang my diploma where people would be?” She rolls her eyes playfully.

“No, not anything like that,” Kazuha says, and (Y/N) almost laughs. She tells him to go on. “How were your courses?” Right, they did attend different universities. They were in the same years, but attending a singular university won’t offer them what they needed most or only one would be satisfied and the other would be lacking.

“Quite fun—Xiao was with me.” (Y/N) nods approvingly. “He’s a nice guy.” It’s just a shame that he left for Europe after graduating. He has a lot of plans for his future, meanwhile, (Y/N) has none. (Y/N) has to keep in touch with him from time to time since she does remember him mentioning being indebted to her. All she can think of is recognizing him a few weeks into her course, and since then, they’ve been each other’s company in the university.

“Xiao?” Kazuha asks, reading the words on the diploma in his head. The elegant font and dim lighting make it hard to recognize words. It’s typewritten, but he doesn’t understand what the text is saying. How grand.

“You should have met him,” she breathes out, then leaning into the armrest.

“Would I like him?”

“I mean, I did.” (Y/N) shrugs, thinking of the many times she hung out with Xiao. He truly was great company. Xiao gave good book recommendations too, and that’s only a plus. He was already a great person even without that.

“Oh?” Kazuha raises an eyebrow, glancing at (Y/N). He finds it interesting to know what (Y/N) did during university. It’s too bad she won’t tell him about the regrettable and embarrassing moments she had.

“I’m not an elementary student, you idiot.” (Y/N) rolls her eyes, fiddling with her fingers absentmindedly. Seriously, this guy just assumes everything is about romance. Like, come on!

“One of these days, I will be right.” (Y/N) laughs at the resolute look on his face. What a nice joke. She will never say it out loud but Kazuha has never been right about anything in her life. It means a lot for the nearly ten years they’ve known each other. There’s a high chance that a theory of his for a book will be more accurate than his interpretation of (Y/N)’s mind.

“I want to be alive to see it, then.” (Y/N) grins at the pointed look Kazuha sends her. He will never know. “Anyway, let’s go out.” She stands up and draws her curtains open. She supposes that her apartment could use some light, even if it’s barely anything. (Y/N) breathes out through her mouth once and takes a discarded padded jacket from the living room floor.

“What are we doing, anyway?” says Kazuha who is putting on his padded coat and scarf. You best believe he’s wearing his trademark scarf except modernized. (Y/N) walks over to the front door, glancing at the skates on the drawers before shaking her head and opening the door. Naturally, Kazuha follows, albeit confused.

They leave the apartment complex with Kazuha not knowing anything. Who knows? Maybe she’s finally tired of him enough that she decided to dispose of him on such a cold winter night. That's certainly not too far off the beaten path. (Y/N)'s taking him somewhere cold and secluded, but not in the way that Kazuha thinks.

Kazuha huffs. "Where are we going?"

"You mind walking?" she says this, but they're already walking anyway. Their weights crunching into snow lets them stay quiet. To savor the moment, mostly. It’s silent, so why not? Distant hollers of teenagers and cars driving around are familiar sounds of the night. (Y/N) glances at Kazuha from her peripheral vision and sees that he doesn’t want to talk either. They can talk when they reach their destination.

Even kids are still out this late into the night. (Y/N) smiles lightly at a child that they see who is with their parent. At least they had their parent with them, otherwise, it would be very alarming.

Outside the local neighborhood, (Y/N) pushes open a metal gate, snow falling off as she hits it with her forearm multiple times. Kazuha goes ahead of her as she brushes off snow from her hair. This is somewhat of a familiar place to (Y/N). The receptionist guy she comes across once in a while mentioned this from a passing conversation, and since then, she has occasionally been visiting.

(Y/N) leads Kazuha into a dark building, sensors opening the glass doors for them as they come before it. The entrance area is empty, but this isn’t where (Y/N) wants to be. Meanwhile, Kazuha is slowly becoming certain that (Y/N) wants to kill him, and yet he still waits for what she’s planning.

He is silent, all until (Y/N) starts humming, something that startles him so terribly, (Y/N) feels it in front of him. The atmosphere is lightened when she chuckles, and Kazuha thinks, maybe I won't die today. The halls they roam are still quite dark though, it’s reminiscent of the haunted houses in movies, where something bad always happens. Perhaps someone dying, or someone becoming emotionally scarred for life. It’s suspicious how the place doesn’t even feel eerie. Everything, from exterior to interior, is carefully maintained, but the lights are out inside, and there’s no one else except them.

A rush of cold wind from the already cold environment chills what’s visible of Kazuha’s skin. Beyond the door (Y/N) opened is a glimmering ice rink. The almost entirely opaque ice spread across the expanse of the area within borders is enchanting to look at as it faintly reflects light from the overhead bulbs.

Kazuha glances at (Y/N) to find her already looking at him, smiling widely. “Well? What do you think?” she asks as Kazuha looks at the ice again, trying to figure out what to say to her. Frankly, this place is just amazing. It’s his first time in an actual rink, not just the ones you’d see available during winter. He can tell that this place operates all year round.

"Why is it dark outside?" He’s pretty sure (Y/N) already knows what he thinks about this place. All the other places that seem to be open have some indication to tell potential customers that they’re open. Something like lights or signs.

(Y/N) tilts her head thoughtfully. “It’s past-midnight Kaedehara, I’m pretty sure recreational places close fairly early for business the next day.” She then adds, “The person-in-charge this late won’t let me pay for using the place, but they do seem to take money from renting skates.” (Y/N) trails off at the end, implicating something to Kazuha.

"That's why you didn't bring your skates? How nice of you." Really, sometimes, she really can be too selfless. To go out of her way just for tonight to happen and for her to help someone out during that, it’s amazing.

(Y/N) nods happily, maneuvering around the seats and knocking on the window of the kiosk at the edge of the arena. The blinds inside roll up and Kazuha peers in curiously to see a middle-aged woman rubbing her eyes, rousing from a quick nap.

"(Y/N)! What would you like today?” the woman asks, visibly happy to see (Y/N) as she takes out a piece of paper. By the looks of it, (Y/N)’s pretty familiar with her. If she knew this place, then naturally, she would know the people who are usually in it.

"Thank you for staying open so late for me." (Y/N) bows lightly. "Can I get two pairs of skates?" Before Kotone could tell her that it was free of charge, (Y/N) had already tossed money into the cash register, grinning widely. Kotone sighs and (Y/N) drags Kazuha back toward the halls, entering into another room yet again.

(Y/N) hands Kazuha a pair of skates. “I hope your feet size hasn’t changed, we don’t want them to be bigger than they were before,” she says. Lucky for her, it didn’t really change much. Kazuha takes the skates and sits on a bench.

“You can place your shoes in the empty cabinet where that pair came from.” (Y/N) points at a shoe cabinet at the top row. Kazuha doesn’t really speak, or either, he doesn’t know what to say. His shoe size might not have changed, but many things did, apparently.

“Wow,” he absentmindedly blurts out.

“You good? Can’t skate?” (Y/N) chuckles, prompting Kazuha to send a glare her way. “I’ll get you food after this, I’m sure Twinkies couldn’t fill up your stomach,” she teases, walking away with her skates in hand.

“Do you want me to walk over in my socks?” Kazuha follows her.

“That’s why I’m changing my shoes in the rink.” She waves to the woman again when they make it back to the rink. They both swap their shoes over for the more appropriate ice skates and hit the ice. I mean, (Y/N) starts skating while Kazuha’s just staring at her. And don’t worry, they both warmed up, we don’t want any accidents now do we?

The smile on (Y/N)’s face fades and her movement ceases as she notices Kazuha just barely on the ice. “Are you good? Can you really not skate?” She goes over to him and offers her hand. “Come on, I’ll skate with you.”

“No—It’s not that.” Kazuha sighs, finding it hard to tell her anything. He wants to talk about how they’ve both changed and yet he can’t. How (Y/N) seemingly became an even better person than he ever was, something he couldn’t figure out even through rare visits during the time they were apart.

"Say something." (Y/N) nudges him a little. He's being difficult. (Y/N) can't do anything about it if he doesn't talk.

“You’re disgustingly nice.” Kazuha bites his tongue. (Y/N) blinks at him, slightly knowing that he has more to say to her. She could just insult him based on his prior statement, but maybe he’s finally talking to her about something. “You changed a lot, as well.”

“In a good way, I hope.” (Y/N) grins.

Kazuha sighs, “No one hopes for bad things.”

“What a naive kid.”

“Who was the one clinging on my arm during our trip to the mountains, again?” Kazuha asks, pulling (Y/N)’s arm as he skates with her. He can hear the ice beneath the blades of his skates, and their voices echoing as they speak.

That trip was a story indeed. It happened during the summer, and (Y/N) couldn’t sit still at all, so they packed some clothes and booked a trip to the higher parts of the country. Surely did beat the heat, and they didn’t dress as heavy as they would for winters. Now, none of them read the specifications for said trip. They ended up with a comprehensive tour with a guide that rehearsed his lines over twenty times before a mirror.

And that was the better part of the trip. It was quite enjoyable, mind you. Therapeutic and the cold is just an addition. The next day was for activities that none of them were really up for but they paid for it so they kind of had to attend. Who knows if the agency would show up at their cottage and drag them out mom-style.

“Not me, that’s for sure.” (Y/N) rolls her eyes, skating away from Kazuha to stop him from speaking. A pretty admirable effort, he’ll admit.

After what they thought was the only thing that’s happening in the trip, they were dragged higher up in the mountains the day after in a five-hour drive. Dreadful is the only word that can explain what greeted them at their destination. The most feared thing anyone could experience up the mountains: bungee jumping.

Anyone can probably guess what came after. Turns out, the people who operated the place had a knack for giving people heart attacks, perfectly obvious by the way the area was set up to have glass floors. They were tempered and were pretty solid, but that doesn’t reassure anyone who was scared of heights. Thus, (Y/N) practically clinging onto Kazuha like a Koala who couldn’t find a tree.

Kazuha laughed every time he would glance at her, which was often. But how could he not? (Y/N) was red in the face. Her legs were visibly unstable when Kazuha left her to jump off. Kazuha thought it was pretty enjoyable, save for the chilly wind that froze off his butt. He thinks it was numb for the rest of the tour. While (Y/N) spent some time scaring herself and sweating buckets walking over to the edge where a guy attached her to some bungee rope, Kazuha was elated. From his experience and (Y/N) looking like a child who saw the monster in their closet.

It was a good time for Kazuha.

If tonight could end on a good note, it would be fine by (Y/N). Such thoughts echoed through her skull as she used up all that she could of the skating rink. Kazuha isn’t as adept at skating as she is, so he just trailed straight lines, having fun with himself. He’s like a child who just learned how to ride a bike, curious and starry-eyed. (Y/N) can see him visiting the rink often. Maybe he can get to know Kotone.

His movements are gentle and careful, which makes sense since he isn’t comfortable with the ice yet. People like them won’t like to stay in a place like this for long, so when Kazuha finally garners the courage to skate at almost the same speed as (Y/N), both of them laughing as they decide who is the better skater, they leave. Kotone can finally get some sleep after the inconvenience they had given her.

“Are you getting me fast food?” Kazuha asks, breaths leaving him as puffs of cold air as he shivers lightly under the layers of his winter garments.

“You seem cold.”

“You don’t say.” Kazuha looks to the side so (Y/N) doesn’t see him rolling his eyes. Too bad she knows he’s rolling his eyes, but she doesn’t care about it.

“Anyway, choose where we’re going tonight. I know some places, but I figured to let you take the wheel for this one,” (Y/N) says. She nods thoughtfully as some options are presented to her in her head, places that can be really good for the cold. Like a classic winter food place—she doesn’t really know what it’s called—that serves hot chocolate and perhaps some fish cakes if the cuisine is diverse.

“What if I take us to a bar?”

“You’ve turned into that kind of person over the years?” she asks, raising her hands to her chest and backing away. “I mean, I don’t judge.”

Kazuha squints. “You look like you are.”

(Y/N) laughs.

***

Well, they found a place. Somewhere. By the way, the sun’s basically rising now. “Were you betting on an assumption that you might find a suitable place just by walking aimlessly, Kaedehara,” (Y/N), his companion, asks.

“Maybe.” Kazuha’s more focused on the food than the conversation to explain more. They’re already halfway done, but food is food and it’s proper etiquette to finish the food you’re eating rather than leave it on the table.

(Y/N) bites angrily into her fish cake stick. “Good grief. We walked for hours!”

“Was I good company, at least?”

“Eat.”

Kazuha was supposed to be the hungry one yet he spent more time wasting time rather than actually finding a place to eat. (Y/N)’s still pretty angry because of that. But it’s over now, they have food and somewhere to sit before their feet can fall off.

It’s already the next day, but (Y/N) thinks they spent the night well enough with just the two of them. They did boring things, pretty much, but it was good bonding time.

“Hey.”

“What now?” (Y/N) still puts in the effort to seem angry. She’s over it, mostly, but she can do with Kazuha feeling more guilt than he has to.

“Do you like me?” Kazuha asks quietly. His word choice is shy which is unlike him most of the time. Is he feeling insecure? Now of all times?

(Y/N) sighs, thinking to herself. “Close enough.” She didn’t need to hesitate because they’re close enough to doubt their relationship with each other, but Kazuha didn’t deserve an answer that seemed half-hearted.

“Like like-like me?” Kazuha asks again.

“The amount of likes you used in that sentence is almost incomprehensible but I understand it somehow,” she says. “No, I don’t.” (Y/N) doesn’t want to consider him liking her either. That will get weird, fast. If it’s one-sided, she doesn’t know what will happen.

“Okay, that’s good.” Kazuha breathes out a sigh of relief. “I thought you felt the same you did in high school.”

(Y/N) stares at him in disbelief, finishing her stick of fish cake and smacking it on the table. “Don’t look so relieved! Am I that terrible? Also, I never even liked you!”

“You didn’t say I’m ugly, so I guess I look good to you.”

“What a delusional prick!”

#genshin impact #genshin impact kazuha #genshin impact x reader #kazuha x reader #fluff #modern au

44 notes · View notes