#he still wants to and she still wants to and his past isn't in the way anymore
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The Yapping Hour is Upon Us
In which Max decides that maybe doing interviews isn't such a bad thing.
Warnings: jos verstappen mention ew Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 2.5k plus social media posts
TheYappingHour posted:
349,219 likes liked by redbullracing, charlesleclerc, and others TheYappingHour Back at it this week with a very super top secret special guest. I simply can't wait to reveal who's on this weeks pod, you guys! You're going to DIE. (peep the clue in the second picture!) user928 her podcast set up is so aesthetic i can't user0928 RED BULL??? what does this meeeeeean??? >>>user1211 she hasn't done a ton of athletes in the past, maybe she got one of the Red Bull athletes!! user00291 DU DU DU DU MAX VERSTAPPEN. (shhh let me be delulu for a minute) >>>user221 as much as i'd love that, we all know how much Max hates interviews.
There was absolutely no reason why having Max Verstappen on your podcast should be making you this nervous. You’ve interviewed actual heads of state, a former president, and royalty for crying out loud and you’re losing your mind over Max fucking Verstappen? You supposed it came from the fact that you had spent most of your childhood traveling from track to track to watch your dad race in NASCAR, racing was in your blood and you knew how revered and idolized Max was. And how rabid his fans could get. You wanted to get this interview right. Needed to get this interview right. Motorsport were still a huge part of your life, even if you weren’t really outwardly an active fan. You never missed a NASCAR or F1 race and while you considered yourself a Ferrari girlie, Red Bull was most certainly your second team.
“Everything ready?” Your assistant Shannon pokes her head in as you fluff the last throw pillow on the cream colored lounge chair. Scanning the room, everything looks to be in order. The two overstuffed chairs dominate the center of the small recording studio, each with a microphone set up on a small side table next to each chair. Instrumental versions of Taylor Swift songs floated out of small speakers tucked away and a few candles burned in the low light of the studio, creating the exact ambiance you were famous for.
You’d been doing your podcast, The Yapping Hour, for nearly five years now and it was now one of the most popular podcasts being produced. You specialized in relaxed interviews of people that the general public don’t get to see relaxed very often. Your big break had come about 3 years ago when you had somehow managed to land an interview with Michelle Obama, her episode was still the most streamed episode of yours to date. Everyone had fallen in love with your interview style, how you got these normally highly media trained individuals to drop their guard down a little and be real for even just an hour. It gave people such a unique glimpse behind the curtain of fame and your fans ate up every bit of it.
“I think so!” You nod, smoothing down the front of your boyfriend cut jeans even though the denim is perfectly ironed without a single wrinkle.
“Good, because he just pulled in the parking lot.” Shannon smirks. She knows how nervous you are for this interview and is insisting it’s because you have a crush on the driver. Which would utterly unprofessional if it were true. But it wasn’t true. At all. “And he’s driving this matte black Aston Martin.” She closes her eyes as she bites her lip, smirk growing even wider.
“Okay, let’s cool it on the hero worship.” You warn, following Shannon out into the lobby of the building.
Outside, it’s a dreary late April morning in the heart of downtown London. You had traveled from your home base in New York City just for this interview but had been surprised at how much you liked the ambiance and energy in the city. So much so that you had extended your stay a few extra weeks. The good thing about being your own boss of a podcast was that you could literally work from anywhere you had your laptop.
Peering out into the parking lot, you’re surprised to see a lone figure in jeans and what looked to be a Red Bull windbreaker, hustling across the pavement towards the door. When he approaches the door, Shannons steps forward to open the door, a gust of wind whipping at your hair when Max comes bustling in through the doors.
“Hello!” Max’s voice sends involuntary shivers down your spine, a feeling you fight hard to shove down. This is not the time to be a fan girl, you remind yourself.
“Hi Max, thank you so much for joining us today! Can I get you some water or maybe some tea?” Shannons steps forward first, extending her hand.
Max takes it and gives her a wide smile, his eyes crinkling at the edges. “Water is fine, thanks.”
“Max, it’s such a pleasure to meet you.” You step forward then, the heels of your black Louboutain’s clicking on the hardwood floor as you approach him. It takes every ounce of focus you have not to react at what feels like a white hot spark flickering over your skin when his hand touches yours for the first time.
“Pleasure is mine.” He murmurs, cat like smirk replacing the warm smile that had greeted Shannon. Your social media did you absolutely no justice and Max was finding it hard to keep his composure you were so pretty.
“Are we waiting on anyone else or is it just you today?” You ask, eyes darting above his shoulder to see if there was anyone still in the parking lot.
“Why? Will I be needing my body guard today?” He quips as he follows you towards the recording studio.
You pray the dim lights in the studio hide the way you’ve gone pink. “Of course not! It’s just that normally the people I have on the show travel with an…entourage.”
“I don’t like people.” He says, as if it’s the most obvious fact in the universe. “I prefer to travel solo. Besides, I’m no Queen of the Netherlands or Justin Trudeau, I don’t really need an entourage.”
He casually drops two of your biggest interviews like it’s nothing and you feel the pink tinge of your cheeks heat to a crimson red. “You’ve listened to the show then?”
He nods, taking the seat you offer him as Shannon and your AV guy Steve bustle around getting things set up. A bottle of water appears for each of you and you take out the pages of notes you’ve made even though you’ve got all the questions memorized. You like to be prepared and prefer your interviews to be more conversational, less question and answer.
“I like to know what I’m getting myself into.” His eyes hold this glint of mischief that if you were less of a professional, would have you biting your lip and kicking your feet. Truth was, Max had spent an ungodly amount of time on your socials and wikipedia page, obsessing over you and your career.
“And yet you still came.” You tease.
“I did.” He says simply and you can’t help but notice how his gaze briefly drops from your eyes down to your lips and quickly back up. It’s so quick that if you weren’t in the business of watching and observing people, you probably would have missed it. But those baby blue eyes of Max’s are so easy to read, all you can do is grin back at him.
“Well, thank you for making the trek into London today. I do appreciate it.”
You briefly explain how the interview is going to work, how Steve is going to make sure everything is set up and recording, how you’ll post audio and video versions and that he can have final say in anything that goes in or stays out of the interview. You’ve found that a lot of your guests appreciate that little clause and in the five years you’ve been doing the show only a handful of bits have been kept out. You like to think it’s because you’re good at what you do and get people to open up on a level that they feel comfortable with.
Steve finally gives you the okay and you settle into the cozy lounge chair, Max sitting comfortably in the one opposite you.
“Thank you again for joining me today, Max. I’ve got to admit, I was a little surprised when your manager said you’d agreed to come on the show. You don’t do a lot of lengthy interviews and I could only find a handful of podcast appearances over the years. So, why The Yapping Hour? Why now?”
Max takes a sip of water before placing it on the table beside him. His shoulders are relaxed, his ankle sitting on his knee is a causal pose. You’ve become a veritable body language expert since starting the show and you can already tell this is going to be a good interview.
“I like your style.” His blunt answer throws you off for a moment and your cheeks heat. Again. You make a mental note to make sure they edit your complexion in post production to take the blush out. “GP sent me the one you did with Dale Earnhardt Jr a few months ago and I was impressed at how authentic you were. Dale is a character but you got a lot of depth out of him. Your questions went beyond the typical ‘what’s your favorite race track.’”
“Well, thank you. That is quite the compliment coming from you.” For the third time in a short time, you blush at the compliments this man is handing out left and right.
Your eyes flicker above Max’s shoulder to where Shannon and Steve sit, their smug faces tell you that you’re not imagining him flirting with you.
“I have to tell you, I went karting with a few friends in prep for this interview and oh my God, I’ve been sore ever since! I can't imagine how hard an F1 car is on your body. Talk to me a little bit about your training sch-…”
“You went karting as research?” He interrupts you, face a mask of disbelief.
Now it’s your turn to smirk, “Of course, I like to know what I’m getting myself into.” You toss him a wink and enjoy the way your stomach flips when his ears go a bit pink. “My dad beat me by almost 20 seconds and I don’t think I’ll ever hear the end of it, but it was worth it. I can see why so many people get hooked, it was so fun.”
“Karting with a NASCAR legend had to make it a little better though, yeah?”
“You know my dad?” Your brows nearly hit your hairline, you’re so surprised at this. Your dad had been long retired before Max had come onto the racing scene and there wasn’t a huge overlap in fan bases between F1 and NASCAR.
Max nods, “He was racing around the time Jos was in F1. I still remember that one Daytona 500 where he stole the win from Earnhardt Jr on the last lap after he’d led for the entire race.”
You tilt your head back laughing and Max thinks it’s the prettiest thing he’s ever heard, fully entranced by the long column of your neck that’s suddenly exposed. “Oh God, dad is going to die when he hears you know about that race.”
“Have either of you been to an F1 race yet?” A plan begins to form in Max’s head.
“No!" You lean forward to swat at his arm playfullt. I’ve tried a few times but it’s always fallen through. I do watch most of the races though, as long as my schedule permits. Sometimes it’s easier when you guys are in Europe because the races are so early in New York, it’s easy to watch them from bed on Sunday mornings.”
The image of you wrapped up in a fluffy duvet wearing nothing but his t-shirt as you watch him race nearly sends Max into orbit. He blinks furiously, trying to get that vision out of his mind so he can pay attention to you.
“Tell me this then, if you could pick any garage to watch the race which one would it be and why would it be Red Bull?"
You can’t help that laugh that explodes from you then and Max preens under your attention, smile stretching wide across his handsome face. “You know, I could have sworn it was my name on the podcast Instagram page.” You tease, giving him a wink. “You keep asking me questions, I’m going to be out of a job, Verstappen.”
“I can’t help it when the interviewer is much more interesting than I am.” He murmurs, taking another sip of water without taking his eyes off of you.
The rest of the interview continues on for the next two hours and you get so much content you feel a little dizzy at the thought of having to cut over half of the episode. For the first time in the podcast’s history, you may have to split this into two episodes. Max doesn’t mind one bit, finding that he’s not as nervous as he thought he’d be with how easy he finds it talking to you.
You wrap up the interview over an hour past the time you had told Max’s press officer it would last but neither of you make any movement to get up, despite both Shannon and Steve beginning to wrap things up.
“I’m so sorry I kept you this long, Max. I know you’re not a huge fan of lengthy interviews.”
Max just shrugs, “If all interviews were like this, I probably would say yes to a lot more of them.”
You grin over at him as you rise, realizing the sun is setting outside and your stomach is aching for food. Max follows suit, although he feels a clench in his stomach realizing that his time with you is coming to an end.
“Can I ask you something?” He says when Shannon and Steve walk out of the studio, leaving the two of you alone.
You look up at him and nod earnestly, “Of course!”
“Why didn’t you ask me about my childhood? Usually it’s one of the first things people ask me, especially in these kinds of interviews.”
You shrug, face heating at being found out. “Like you, I do my research and I figured you might not want to talk about that part of your life. I want my guests to feel comfortable when they come on the show, not immediately put on the defensive. I guess I thought there were other more important topics…”
Your words hang in the air, heavy between you two. Something in Max’s chest aches at the simple kindness you’ve extended him. It’s true, he doesn’t like revisiting his childhood very often, especially when it’s recorded and will be put on the internet. His dad was very much still in his life, obviously, and while he had done a lot of work to move past his childhood, it was still painful to talk about.
“Thats…wow. Thank you.” Is all he can manage, voice thick with emotion.
“Of course.” You murmur, reaching out to touch his elbow in what you hope comes across as a comforting gesture.
Max’s eyes drop to where your slender fingers rest on his bare arm before a smile stretches back across his face. “I know it’s kind of last minute but you were saying earlier you’d never been to a race. We’re in Miami next weekend and I’d love it if you were my guest…”
You can’t help the flutter in your chest at how nervous he appears standing before you. Your eyes dart over to Shannon, the official keeper of your schedule and are delighted when she nods vigorously, phone in hand with your calendar already pulled up. You made a mental note to give that girl a raise ASAP. “I would love to, Max.”
“Yeah?” He sounds almost shocked that you had agreed so quickly.
“Yeah.” You say, a hint of a giggle at the edge of your voice.
“How about I take you out to dinner tonight and we can work out the details.”
“Why Max Verstappen, I had no idea you were this smooth.”
TheYappingHour posted
987,392 likes liked by maxverstappen1, redbullracing, susiewolff, and others TheYappingHour SURPRISE! Part one of my interview with none other than 3 time F1 world champion Max Verstappen is live on all socials RIGHT NOW. (yeah, I said part 1! We both yapped so much you're getting a part two next week!) user9382 the chemistry between these two was OFF THE CHARTS >>>user111 ikr? i felt like i was interrupting something the entire hour. MaxVerstappen1 it was a pleasure meeting you! can't wait to see you in Miami this weekend! >>>user2999 MAX WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU CAN'T WAIT TO SEE HER IN MIAMI. >>>user999 stfu she is so coming to the Miami race?? MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN. user3210 has she ever done a two parter before??? not even the Queen of the Netherlands got a two parter!! user9928 i don't think i've ever seen Max this relaxed during an interview EVER. >>>user222 seriously! He was like a little boy with a crush then entire time.
yourpersonalinsta posted
234,100 likes liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris, michelle obama, and others yourpersonalinsta we yapped some more and stuffed our faces. til next time, maxie! (tagged: maxverstappen1) user999 not michelle obama herself in the likes maxverstappen1 you're going to be trouble in miami, aren't you? >>>yourpersonalinsta what do you think? ;) >>>user9932 oh my godddddd user028 this is the couple i didn't know i needed
tag list (some of you only requested to be on a series tag list but i am not organized enough for that. lmk if you want to be removed!! also fingers crossed this tag list works this time ffs. sorry!)
@anilovessadbooks, @shelbyteller, @formulaal, @martygraciesversion381, @longhairkoo, @samantha-chicago, @stelena-klayley @dark-night-sky-99 @luckylampzonkland, @chlmtfilms , @inarabee @aykxz98 @forensicheart @cheer-bear-go-vroom @lieutenantchaos @willowsnook @sltwins @linnygirl09 @powerfulmess @technicallypleasanttree @meglouise00 @mixedstyles @strawberryy-kiwii @secret-agents-stole-my-bunnies @unknownmystery22 @mrosales16 @charlesgirl16 @leclercdream
#f1#formula 1#max verstappen#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fic#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen x you#max verstappen fluff
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Devil's Corner || S.JY
racer!jaeyun x rival's sister!reader warnings: smut (mdni), unprotected sex, oral (f.rec), food play - lollipops, exhibitionism (kinda), terribly described racing scenes, mentions of past trauma, anything else lmk! wc: 18k synopsis: jaeyun goes by a lot of names - leader of the lucifers, your brother's biggest rival, the number one racer in the south&west, and your non-boyfriend. on his birthday, you go to the grit track to wish him luck, not knowing your relationship is going to change forever. a/n: hi! i am not officially back, i'm still taking a break but it would be so wrong of me to miss the loml's birthday (although i'm early) <33 this isn't exactly how i wanted this to turn out so i'm sorry if it's shit 😮💨 anyway, i'll be back soon hopefully bc it's almost my one year anniversary. comments/feedback/reblogs are all appreciated and i love you all so much! happy jake day when it comes <3
“You know I can’t be here, Ireh,” you say, casting a wary glance around. “If Yeonjun sees me, he’ll lose his mind.”
“Will you just relax for like half a minute, please?” Ireh sighs, her voice tinged with lighthearted frustration as she tugs you closer to the grit track, the sound of revving engines growing closer. “He’s probably busy preparing for the race. You know how seriously he takes this.”
You dig your heels into the ground, stopping both of you in your tracks. “Girl, please be serious. We’re practically on the track! He could spot me in a heartbeat.”
Avoiding your older brother isn’t really in your nature; you’ve always been inseparable. You and Yeonjun are like two cubes of ice that no matter how much you whack them, they stay glued together. He always protects you, teaches you the ropes on how to navigate life even though there is only 3 years between you, and you would probably class him as one of your best friends.
Yet, he never wants you to come to his races.
Yeonjun is one of, if not the best illegal drag racer in the city. He’s built respect around his and his crews name - Thursday’s Children - TC for short. Initially, he loved bringing you along to the races, but that quickly changed the moment you caught the attention of the one rival he despises.
Ireh turns to you, exasperation etched across her features as she crosses her arms. “So, do you want to see your boyfriend or not?”
“He is not my boyfriend, Ireh,” you retort, huffing the words out for what feels like the millionth time. But she isn’t wrong - you are here to see the boy, and though typically you wouldn’t risk coming to the tracks and getting caught by Yeonjun, there’s a reason for the risk tonight.
“Oh? So what do you call a guy you’re so hopelessly in love with that you’re willing to betray your brother and sneak behind his back?” she counters with a teasing lilt in her voice. “Because you wouldn’t do that for a casual hookup.”
That’s also the kicker of this whole thing; since that day when you bumped into Yeonjun’s rival and the ban was put in place so that you never have to come into contact with him…you’ve actually been seeing him almost every day for the past seven months. Your boyfriend who isn’t your boyfriend? That’s Sim Jaeyun - the leader of The Lucifers, and your brother's arch nemesis.
It makes you recoil every time you think about betraying your brother, especially when someone slaps you over the face with it so blatantly the way your best friend does. It’s worse because as much as you downplay the relationship, you can’t deny that there is something so real between you both. As soon as you met him, you were instantly drawn to him - like a moth to a very dangerous and reckless flame.
To be honest, you vowed to stay away from any and all racers. Each of them is arrogant and too prideful, your brother included, but the more you spoke with Jaeyun, got to know him and all his quirks, you realised quickly that he’s the exception.
Jaeyun is ripped straight from the pages of a romance book. At first glance, with his sharp smirk and the swagger that comes with being one of the city’s top drag racers, he gives off that classic fuckboy vibe - a bit reckless, untouchable, with that unbothered arrogance he uses to get under other crew’s skin. To a lot of people, he’s just the arrogant leader of The Lucifers, quick to brush off his competition like they’re nothing.
But that’s only half of who he is.
When it’s just the two of you, you get to see a side of Jaeyun that he guards closely - trusting you with something he doesn’t share with the world. He’s patient and tender, his words soft and careful, and it’s almost startling how different he can be. He’s not performing or putting up walls; he’s just there with you, completely and wholly, in a way that’s so real it takes your heart a minute to stop making more space for him. If you were to say this to anyone else that knew him, or of him, they would laugh in your face - and Jaeyun would deny it in a heartbeat.
It wouldn’t be fair to say he hides his ‘real’ self from others because being the racer everyone perceives is also part of him. The intensity he brings to the track is genuine - it’s a part of his soul, he’s clearly passionate about it, loving the thrill and heat that comes from burning some rubber and shouting a big fuck you to his opponent. But with you, Jaeyun allows himself to be something more. He only shows the loverboy side of him in your company, being with you gives him a moment to embrace a side of himself that he sometimes forgets about.
Of course, he’s still cocky and boastful - he’s allowed to be; he’s really fucking good - it’s the main reason why he and Yeonjun are rivals in the first place. While TC rules the North and East of the city, The Lucifers hold ownership of the South and West, but both of them want to be on top - the best in the city, not just their turfs.
In Yeonjun’s eyes, the only one who could be deemed better than him is Jaeyun, and that’s a bitter pill to swallow. So he won’t swallow it, he’ll use it as motivation instead, to beat Jaeyun in ever way possible.
Shifting your focus back to Ireh and ridding your mind of the thoughts of the leaders, you shake your head and let out the fakest laugh you think you’ve ever heard spit from your mouth. “In love with him? I am not in love with him. We’re just, seeing one another, casual, y’know?”
Ireh holds that knowing stare on you as you stand there, your mind battling with itself like it usually does in moments like these, justification and excuses bubbling up. “Listen, you can keep him as your ‘not boyfriend’ all you want,” she adds with a smirk, “but you know that label isn’t hiding your feelings. It’s written all over your face - even now.”
You’re an open book, what your mouth doesn’t say, your face certainly will and you’re more than sure it’s telling the story of your heart that you refuse to admit. For both your sake and Jaeyun’s.
“Whatever, let’s just go find him.” Rolling your eyes, you take her arm and lead her further into the pit of people.
It’s heaving with racers, pit lizards, and those just looking to have a good time and smell the fumes. The floodlights guide you to the edge of the track while you thread your and Ireh's way through the crowd, moving closer to the edge, where you get a clear view of the grit track. Out of all the places Yeonjun and Jaeyun race, this track has a special place in your heart. There’s nothing too fancy about it, but it does have one element that outdoes all the rest; Devil’s Corner.
Devil’s Corner is infamous, a steep turn that has racers pushing their cars to the limit. They either conquer the bend or be conquered by it. It’s a sharp, merciless curve that rises slightly before plunging down at a nearly impossible angle, leading straight into a narrow stretch and to the finish line. So many have tried to beat it or show off on it - you’ve seen more than one car flip or crumpling like a smooshed tin can.
Luckily, both your brother and Jaeyun know exactly how to handle it, masters of their art being proven each time. You never have to worry about them too much when it comes to this track, they’re usually way ahead of whatever chump tries to race them, but a little flutter of anxiety will always be there.
You squint against the harsh glare of headlights, raising a hand to shield your eyes as you scan the crowd. Among the bustle, you spot Heeseung and Jongseong leaning casually against a car with the devil printed crudely onto it, looking entirely at ease in the chaotic scene. They’re two of Jaeyun’s closest friends and crewmates, so wherever they are, he’s usually not far behind.
Heeseung is the first to notice you, nudging Jongseong with a mischievous glint in his eye as he shoots you a welcoming look. The two of them are more than just members of The Lucifers - they’re practically family to Jaeyun, and in turn that makes them your number one hype men and the only others to know about your secret fling.
Squeezing her arm, you guide Ireh across the track and into red territory, smiling brightly and suddenly forgetting about the possibility of Yeonjun spotting you.
“Hi, boys!” you greet them warmly, letting go of your friend to hug them tightly. “How are you feeling?” Both of them have races tonight, though you could never tell with how nonchalant they both look. Going against TC always has higher stakes, but they don’t seem fussed.
Jongseong pats your head and smirks. “We’re chill, it’s only Gyu and Soobin, hardly competition.”
“We are shocked to see you though, doesn’t little Junnie usually keep you in a cage when it comes to TC Lucifer races?” Heeseung nips in.
“Well, I had to come and-”
“Support the number one racer on his birthday,” a fading Australian accent interrupts your sentence, his hands gripping your hips and instinctively pulling you back into him, your ass pressing against one of your favourite parts of him.
Jaeyun’s touch is intoxicating, a magnetic pull that has you leaning back into him without a second thought, any anxiety about Yeonjun’s lurking eyes now vanished. His hands drift up and down your waist, lingering over the curves he knows so well, savouring the feel of the skintight dress you’ve slipped into just for him. You can feel his gaze, possessive, admiring, and utterly absorbed into you as his fingers press against the sheer fabric at your sides, the warmth of his skin teasing yours through the thin material. He loves it when you dress up for him because he knows it’s only for him, not one of these other fuckers at the grit track gets to touch you the way he does, gets to see you the way he does.
Instinctively, he dips his head, his lips grazing your shoulder, trailing upwards in a slow, lazy path that sends a pulse straight to your core. His mouth follows the line of your neck, leaving a trail of heat that makes you feel like the two of you are alone in the world, past all of the noise and chaos around you. When he reaches your ear, he nibbles down and whispers, “Hi, Princess.” It’s a greeting as much as a claim, you’re his princess.
You’re aware, somewhere in the back of your mind, that this is probably the most reckless thing you could do. Yeonjun could be here any second, his protective instincts would be kicking in if he caught even a speckle of Jaeyun’s hands on you. And yet, the thrill of it only makes you want to sink deeper into Jaeyun’s touch. He holds you firmly, his grip the only thing holding you up right now.
However, you need to let go, scared of the repercussions. It’s bad enough you’re even on this side of the track, let alone in the arms of The Lucifer’s leader. So you spin around, gathering your bones and standing upright, although they almost turn to jelly again as soon as you see him.
His hair is bouncy, parted down the middle with two strands falling effortlessly on his face, pointing straight to that perfect nose that you’ve had the pleasure of riding one or ten times. His lips are curled up in a small smile, so subtle only you can see before it turns into a full-blown smirk, his kissable lips so inviting as he bites into his bottom one. You love his mouth, everything about it; how it looks, the way it tastes, it’s magical skills when it’s in between your legs, all of it.
“Happy birthday,” you murmur, smiling so fondly at him that you know Ireh is going to have something to say about it later.
“Thanks. What did my girl get me?” he asks, leaning forward and ghosting his lips over yours, his bottom lip begging to be bitten and sucked on. Every time he calls you his girl, you swear you almost get down on your knees and begin to worship him.
Maybe you’re starting to see what Ireh and his friends mean about your non-existent label and what it should be.
You resist the urge to just devour him in a kiss as you speak. “I can’t show you it right now, not here,” you tease, poking your tongue out to wet your lips.
“Yeah? What if I ditch this race and we go somewhere that you can show me?” His voice is low and inviting, every word dripping with promise. Jaeyun leans down, his lips hovering just inches from yours, his eyes gleaming playfully. His hands roam up your back, his fingers pressing just hard enough to make you shudder, his nails grazing your skin ever so slightly - a subtle incentive to consider his tempting suggestion.
Before you can even nod, though, Jongseong clears his throat pointedly, a slight smirk tugging at his mouth. “Actually, mate, you really can’t skip this one,” he says in a language you can’t understand, his tone heavy with meaning meant solely for Jaeyun.
Jaeyun’s grip loosens slightly as he pulls back, and you seize the moment to break from his hypnotic gaze, turning to face Jongseong with a raised eyebrow. “What’s so special about this race?” you ask, voice laced with curiosity. “What’s at stake this time, a car?”
High-stakes wagers are nothing new. Racers love to have some form of motivation and it’s not unusual for bets to involve money, cars, or something like territorial rights over parts of the city. And while you don’t know exactly what’s in play, the tension between Jongseong and Jaeyun suggests this isn’t just any race.
“Not a car,” Jaeyun begins removing his hands from your waist, and just in time too, because over the racer's shoulder, you see someone walking over with raw fury and intensity over their features.
“What the fuck are you doing here, Y/N?” Yeonjun spits as he approaches, his aura red. The last time you saw him this angry was when you accidentally mistook his MSCHF boots as funky vases and put the tulips that Jaeyun had got you inside them. Of course, he didn’t know they were from his rival, but you did just ruin his £300 shoes.
Truthfully, they looked better as a vase.
Jaeyun’s hand still rests on your waist, firm and possessive, but you reluctantly take a step back, putting as much space as possible between you. You will yourself to look unfazed and relaxed, praying Yeonjun hadn’t seen Jaeyun practically dry-humping you just moments before.
Thinking on her feet, Ireh steps in, tossing a casual arm over Jongseong’s shoulder with a bright smile. “Actually, it’s my fault, Yeonjun,” she chirps, doing her best to sound apologetic yet unbothered. “I wanted to see Jongseong race, and I dragged Y/N along for moral support.” Her voice drops, filled with mock affection. “We’re dating.”
Everyone looks confused except Ireh, who is putting all those years bluffing to her parents about her whereabouts in the middle of the night to the ultimate test. They are easily fooled, but Yeonjun is not.
Glancing down at his ‘girlfriend’, Jongseong wears a look of uncertainty but also…happiness? You always suspected his crush on your best friend, this just confirms it. Like breathing, he slips into the role, slipping his arm around her waist and kissing her temple lovingly - he’s clearly taking this as an opportunity to be close to her.
Yeonjun’s lip curls as he looks Jongseong up and down with a mixture of disgust and disbelief. “Slim pickings around here, I guess. I didn’t think you’d settle for a shit stain on the sidewalk.”
Jongseong’s easygoing expression hardens as he holds Ireh close, offended and possessive. “Watch your fucking mouth,” he growls, his tone a warning.
Amidst the brewing tension, Jaeyun’s hand sneaks to find home on your ass, his grip firm and reassuring. He’s careful though, keeping his touch just out of Yeonjun’s line of sight, but you can tell he also doesn’t care, not really. He would fight your brother in an instant if it wasn’t for you asking him to keep it in check. No one ever tells Jaeyun what to do - not the authorities, not family, no one - but he’ll make the exception for you.
“Get off our side, Yeonjun,” Jaeyun finally interjects and pausing the bickering, his voice low and steady, clearly unbothered by the confrontation brewing. He removes his hand from you and he regrets it almost the moment it happens, wishing he could glue himself to you and always feel your warmth.
“Not until I get my sister back,” Yeonjun retorts, the words hang thickly in the air as the rest of The Lucifers gather around.
Even the mere suggestion of you being taken away stirs something in Jaeyun, a slight tightening of his jaw, a flicker of protectiveness in his eyes. Now that he has you by his side, on his side both physically and literally, he doesn’t like you too far away.
But Jaeyun’s lips twitch into a mocking smile as he crosses his arms and hides his true feelings, eyes never leaving Yeonjun’s. “Take her back then,” he scoffs, tilting his head with an air of nonchalance that only stokes the fire. He turns to you, smirking and hiding that beautiful boy you know behind the arrogance of himself. “If that’s what she wants.”
The ball is in your court and you hate when people do this to you - making you choose - and this is the worst choice of all. Jaeyun is giving you the opening to stand up for yourself, something he’s been slowly but surely trying to help you do throughout the seven months of seeing him, but it’s so much harder than he realises.
Betraying Yeonjun feels like tearing a piece of your soul away. The thought of hurting him, of driving a wedge between you twists in your gut. It’s not easy to reconcile the love you have for your brother with the undeniable connection you share with Jaeyun.
As the silence stretches, you take a deep breath, your heart racing. You glance at Jaeyun with sorrowful eyes, knowing you’re disappointing him with what you’re about to do. You take a step forward and stand by Yeonjun, looking down shamefully. You don’t dare look at the hurt in Jaeyun’s eyes.
And it’s there, only for you to see. He had truly hoped that this would say a big ‘fuck you’ and rid yourself of the shackles of Yeonjun’s overbearing brotherly role and claim the independence he’s been encouraging you to reach for.
In all honesty, he has been respecting your wishes and he’s content with that, but he hates to see you battling with it so damagingly. Your anxiety gets the better of you sometimes, your brain whispering insults and what ifs while Jaeyun’s lips are on yours,l. It’s gotren so bad in fact that half of your secret meetups have consisted of you sitting in his lap while he strokes your back, whispering petal soft reassurances to calm you down from turmoil.
Not exactly a five star date.
In some way, he wonders if the weight of it all is pressing harder now because you’re both crossing into a deeper territory of emotions that you can’t step back from.
“Ireh, don’t you dare bring Y/N back here again,” he warns your best friend, stepping in front of you, his way of protecting you but really he’s just locking you in the cage that he built. You can feel the heat of anger surrounding him and you feel ashamed. Not only are you in trouble but now your best friend is getting the blame for it. All because you can’t tell Yeonjun the truth.
Jaeyun pokes his tongue in his cheek and laughs, shaking his head in disbelief. He doesn’t say anything, but that’s enough to make Yeonjun tense once again, narrowing his eyes.
“You want to say something else?” your brother grits out, hoping that Jaeyun will bite his bait.
Yet, Jaeyun simply raises his hands in a gesture of mock surrender, a playful smile on his face. “Nah, mate. I’ll save all my talking for out on the track, yeah?” The tone of his words is light but there’s an underlying tension simmering as he stops himself from saying what he really thinks.
What he really wants to say is how fucking ridiculous it is to watch Yeonjun try to control not just your life but also those who have no obligation to bow to him. It’s clearly a trait of his - one he can’t get on board with.
However, the phrase ‘save all my talking for out on the track’ strikes you as oddly significant. You then suddenly remember Jongseong’s earlier cryptic warnings to Jaeyun about how he should stick around for the race and it all clicks into place.
Your eyes widen as you search Jaeyun’s expression for confirmation, but he remains locked onto Yeonjun’s fierce glare, the two of them engaged in a silent battle of wills.
Pulling at Yeonjun’s wrist, you draw his attention back to you, though his gaze never wavers from Jaeyun. “You’re racing each other tonight? Why?” you ask, concern creeping into your voice.
Of course, it’s not uncommon for leaders of rival crews to face off in races; it happens all the time. But the stakes feel particularly high tonight, and a knot of worry forms in your stomach. They haven’t battled it out since that night you met Jaeyun and that almost ended with Yeonjun crashing and Jaeyun turning upside down.
They have no limits when it comes to racing one another, and at the grit track, that can only mean bad things.
“Because Jaeyun here decided he wants this track to himself,” Yeonjun explains half-heartedly.
The grit track is TC territory, placed technically within the east side of the city, but its location on the very edge of the west makes it up for grabs - if they can win it. For years, The Lucifers have wanted this spot, the leaders well before Jaeyun took charge could never do it. TC leaders make sure this is the one track they’re masters at, no one is ever able to beat them on it.
Jaeyun’s smirk widens, and he steps closer, closing the space between them. “The track belongs to whoever can handle it, not whoever sticks their name on it and hopes everyone just plays nice.”
“I’ve been handling it, in case you couldn’t see that,” he chides back, not appreciating the jab. “Your old leader Mingi couldn’t handle it against me, that’s the reason you became leader, right?”
Yeonjun’s smirk is cold, knowing that mentioning the former leader will get the reaction he wants from Jaeyun - and it does. Jaeyun’s easy smirk falters for a split second, his eyes darkening with a flash of barely concealed rage. Mentioning Mingi was a low blow, they both know it.
Mingi is Jaeyun’s best friend and the night he tried to stake claim on TC turf, he ended up crashing the car, paralysing his body from the waist down. In truth, it’s the only reason Jaeyun is standing in the position he is right now, and he hates that fact.
He always admired Mingi as a leader.
Jaeyun’s voice drops, dangerously calm. “Say his name again,” he warns as the muscles in his jaw tighten. “But make sure you remember that if he hadn’t crashed because of your pathetic excuse of a trick, he would have this track, easy.”
Yeonjun’s smug grin only widens, feeding off the frustration simmering in his rival. “Is that right? Funny, because as far as I remember, it wasn’t foul play, he just couldn’t handle Devil’s Corner, and we all know what happened after that. Or maybe you’d like a reminder?”
The tension is suffocating, an invisible line drawn in the dirt between them, and everyone around senses that one wrong word could send it spiralling out of control. Jaeyun takes a step closer, closing the gap so that they’re nearly nose-to-nose. “You better watch your fucking mouth, you know what you did.”
You don’t know much about that night, neither of the men in your life wishing to utter a word about it, but all you’ve gathered from the rumours is that there are two sides to believe; one in which Mingi was simply reckless on the corner, a freak accident due to his negligence, the other? Yeonjun and his crew planted a spike trail on the road that caused him to flip over and roll down the hill.
The rumours were never settled because the car took such a tumble that it eventually got engulfed in flames, the tyres melting and any evidence gone. It’s one of the biggest mysteries amongst the crews and only TC will truly know the truth, not that they would ever admit it.
Do you think your brother could do such a thing? Not in a million years, but you also know his competitive streak can cloud his judgment. Either way, you’re nervous about his and Jaeyun’s safety tonight.
Yeonjun’s expression hardens, dropping all pretences of mockery. “Prove it. I did fuck all, your pathetic excuse for a leader was just a shit driver that couldn’t handle the heat.”
The words are enough to push Jaeyun to the edge. His fists clench at his sides, but before he can lurch forward and connect his knuckles with your brother’s face, Heeseung pulls him back with a firm grip on his shoulder, speaking low and steady. “It’s not worth it, Jae. He wants you to lose it.”
“And I fucking will, the prick deserves it,” you hear him argue with his friend. It’s moments like these you wish you could just walk over to him and settle his nerves. Not in the Joey King in Kissing Booth way with the cliche ‘look at me, look at me’ vibes, but let him know that you’re there for him, that this urge to win and prove something might end up even more disastrous than Mingi’s fate.
While Heeseung and Jongseong tend to Jaeyun’s flaring temper, Yeonjun shifts his focus to you, his rebellious sister. “Seriously, Y/N, I told you to stay the fuck away from these races,” he has venom in his voice but that’s still lingering from the spout with Jaeyun. Towards you, there is affection and concern, his usual feelings towards you.
“I just…Ireh wanted me to come,” you lie, using the dark night and shadows from the floodlights to mask your growing nose.
“Okay, fine. You still should have said no,” he rebuts, suddenly giving you a quick glance over, “And why are you dressed like that? You never dress like a track hopper.”
It’s a little insulting, considering what you wear is none of his business, and that you actually do feel good in it.
You square your shoulders, meeting Yeonjun’s scrutinising gaze. “I wanted to dress up for once, alright? Is that such a crime?” you snap, your voice sharper than you initially intended. But something about his tone, so quick to judge, grates on you.
Yeonjun’s eyes soften just a fraction, and he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “Look, Y/N,” he begins, his tone shifting to something gentler. “I don’t mean to give you a hard time. I just don’t want you getting dragged into this, especially tonight.” His eyes flick to the track, the pits where engines roar to life, and the crowd of people buzzing with dangerous energy as they wait for the next race. “You’re above all of this.”
A small pang of guilt tugs at you, but you hold your ground. “I’m not here to cause trouble, Yeonjun. Let me just stay to support you,” you lie again, stomach twisting as the truth sits, heavy and hidden.
Yeonjun narrows his eyes, not fully convinced but willing to let it go - for now. “Alright, but stay out of the pit. And if anything happens, you leave, got it?”
“Got it. I’ll keep my distance.”
Satisfied, he gives a brief nod, but as he turns back towards his car, guiding you over to the right side of the track, where you belong. You look back as you watch Jaeyun eye you up, saddened at your sudden removal, but expecting it nonetheless.
You guess you’ll just need to see him once this is all over, and both of them finish this race safely.
You hope.
_____
The sound of engines revving fills the night air as you stand on the edge of the track, patiently awaiting Jaeyun and Yeonjun’s arrival. Your nerves are unsettled and your mind is very much being represented like that one scene in Spongebob where he forgets his name and the little sponges in his brain scramble for the answer.
It’s been a long time since you felt this tense, you thought coming here and hiding would be the thrill of your night, turns out that was the most mundane - and unsuccessful part.
The crowd is bigger now, all revved up - no pun intended - for the race. The stakes are high, like really high and you can’t imagine what the outcome could possibly be.
A thrill courses through the crowd, the anticipation tangible as Jaeyun’s car pulls up on the east side of the track - your side. While most of the TCs around you murmur, assuming he’s just trying to throw Yeonjun off, they couldn’t be further from the truth. Jaeyun’s tactic isn’t about intimidation; he just wants a final glance at you before the race begins, to see you in that dress that Yeonjun hates oh so much, and use it as motivation. He doesn’t want to show off per say, but if you’re impressed, it’s a bonus.
The intensity in his eyes across the crowd is unmistakable, and when he whistles, a slight, beckoning tilt of his head makes it clear he’s calling you over.
You look around to see if anyone noticed, and once you’re convinced they haven’t, you check your brother. Sure enough, he’s deep in conversation with his crew, oblivious as he checks his car’s setup.
Is it stupid to go over and risk getting caught? Of course. But Jaeyun has a persuasive smile and dreamy eyes to match. So the next thing you know, you take a deep breath, slipping through the sea of people, and make your way towards Jaeyun’s car. His smirk widens as you reach him, his hand already extended to brush your arm.
But you swat it away, half playfully, half serious. “What are you doing?”
“What?” he asks, eyes glinting with amusement. “Can’t a guy get a good luck kiss from his girl?”
“Jaeyun, are you fucking crazy? Look who’s right next to you!” you hiss, gesturing towards Yeonjun, who’s still unaware, thankfully. You really appreciate his attention to detail in these moments.
“Princess, you’ve been sneaking around and bouncing on my cock for seven months now. If he hasn’t caught on by now, I doubt he’s going to. He probably doesn’t even care.” He says it so easily, like all of this has just been in your mind and not a real threat.
“Yeah? Tell that to the way he glared you down not two hours ago. Or did you miss the part where he wanted to tear you to pieces for even breathing next to me?”
Jaeyun barely flinches at the mention, a hint of a pout replacing his smirk. “Come on, it’s my birthday. Don’t you think I deserve at least one little kiss?”
“Didn’t you already use the birthday excuse to get me here?” you counter, eyeing him with a playful twinkle.
“That’s for attendance,” he teases, leaning closer to you, practically hanging out the window just for a taste of you. “Kisses are part of the package.”
Unable to resist the temptation in his eyes, you check over your shoulder one last time before leaning in, brushing your lips against his in what should be a quick peck for luck, but he turns into so much more.
Jaeyun’s hand slides up to cradle your cheek, his touch warm and possessive. His thumb brushes softly over your skin as he deepens the kiss, ignoring the chaos, this stolen moment is the only thing that matters. His fingertips, rough from years of racing, contrast with the gentle way he holds you, drawing you further into him.
His tongue sweeps over your lips and you can’t help but groan and grant him access to your mouth, praying to the gods to get a taste of him. You’re greedy for him, ravenous almost, and he mirrors your need. If he wasn’t in front of at least one hundred people, including your brother, he would be dragging your pretty ass into this car and watching your tits clap in his face.
But then, like a bucket of cold water, reality hits as Jungwon steps between the two cars, flag poised for the start. You pull away reluctantly and savour the last few pecks Jaeyun plants on your puffy, lipgloss-smudged lips.
Yeonjun snaps to attention suddenly aware of your appearnce and his voice cuts sharply through the revving engines. “Y/N! What the fuck are you doing?” he shouts, his tone edged with disbelief and frustration. “I told you to stay off the pit!”
You jump, instinctively retreating from Jaeyun’s side as you stammer out a response, just thankful that he didn’t seem to notice how seconds prior you were getting your tonsils tangled with Jaeyun. “I was just…I was wishing you good luck!” You walk quickly, rounding Jaeyun’s car, trying to ignore the lingering sensation of the kiss. But Yeonjun’s face is a mask of exasperation as you approach his window.
“Y/N, get back!” he orders, eyes widening as he glances at Jungwon, who’s counting down without a care in the world.
Only then do you realise you’re directly between the two cars, and neither Jaeyun nor Yeonjun seems willing to delay the race.
“Three!” Jungwon’s deep voice booms, the crowd roaring as the tension builds.
Your feet feel glued to the ground, panic swelling in your chest. You know that chances of you getting hurt are slim, but you’ve never been this close to the race, so close that you can feel the heat from their motors swirling your leg like those snakes on Lucy Grey.
“Two!”
Jungwon raises the flag, ready to unleash it. The cars tremble with power, the engines growling, but your brain’s too scrambled to make a move. Jaeyun sees your tense frame and panics for you, scared of even a scratch on you.
“One!”
Suddenly, you feel a jolt - a car door bumps against the back of your legs, and before you know it, strong hands grab your waist, pulling you backwards in a quick, fluid motion. You land on something soft, but before you even realise what’s happened, Jaeyun’s arm reaches across to steady you in the passenger seat of his car.
“Go!”
With a salute to Yeonjun that’s equal parts taunt and triumph, Jaeyun hits the gas, and the world blurs as he speeds off, leaving your brother gaping in stunned disbelief behind you.
The wind whips through the open passenger door as you scramble to sit upright, barely processing what just happened. You feel like you’re suddenly on a rollercoaster, the car's oomph causing you to stick to the seat like the Sticky Wall.
“Can you shut that, Princess? You’re letting a draft in,” he smirks, too pleased with himself.
But all you can do is stare back, aghast. “What the fuck, Jae?! This is not funny.”
“It’s not, you could have got fucking hurt,” he tries to play it off as a joke but you hear the seriousness in his tone. When you look at him, you also see the slight fear in his eyes.
Jaeyun knows it was stupid to drag you into his car, but he panicked, what else could he do? All the possibilities swam across his mind like a reckless current. You could have gotten scratched up by the grit, swooped under the tyres with the sheer power of the acceleration…or worse.
Not all of these scenarios make sense, but the fear of losing you makes him think even the impossible. So if he can save you even from probabilities, then he will.
You reach over and such the door, the wind making it difficult as he rounds a corner. Once it clicks into place, you relax a little, breathing out. It happened in such a blur that you can’t even figure out where on the track you are. All you know is that Jaeyun is first, and you’re stuck in this race whether you like it or not.
Without taking his eyes off the road or his foot off the accelerator, he reaches over you and grabs the seatbelt, fiddling with it awkwardly to secure you in. You hate to say that you’re looking at the veins on his hands as he unravels it, but you are. You could be helping him and saving him the struggle but it’s just too fucking delicious to look at.
That distraction is the only thing stopping your heart from leaping out of your throat.
“Did you really think dragging me into your car, going a million miles per hour and having to survive the grit track safer than me standing on the starting line?” you question him, disbelief and mockery in your tone.
Jaeyun furrows his brows and lets your words sink in. “Well…when you put it that way, it’s dumb,” he agrees, mentally cursing himself. “But if you think about it, now your brother won’t pull any of his tricks. Not with his precious sister in the car.”
Now that embarrassment for his rash decision is turning into pride. Maybe subconsciously he pulled you into his car as a safety measure, after all, can’t be too careful around a bunch of TCs; not when there is so much at stake.
“Really? I’m a reassurance? What if he’s already planned something and you’ve just brought me to my demise?” It hurts you that Jaeyun truly believes your brother is capable of dirty tricks, but then again, you don’t have one hundred percent faith that he wouldn’t pull something.
Jaeyun looks into his rearview mirror and sees Yeonjun hot on his tail, probably filled with enough fury to power his car without an engine. It makes Jaeyun nervous, both your words and Yeonjun’s gaining speed, but he masks it under a laugh.
“At least we would die together. What’s that song? To die by your side-”
“Is such a heavenly way to die, yeah, yeah, it’s one of my favourite songs,” you admit, heart blushing that he even remembered it considering his playlists contain an abundance of Justin Bieber and other generic pop acts - he’s not really one to appreciate the Smiths. “But I would rather listen to the lyrics than live it out, Jaeyun.”
“I don’t see a double-decker bus,” he looks at you for a split second but it’s long enough that you see the teasing glint in his eye that masks his genuine concern, and weirdly, it puts you at ease. He would never let anything happen to you, you know that deep down.
You let out a genuine laugh and whack his arm playfully. “You know what I mean, Jaeyun.”
“Princess,” he intertwines his fingers with you, a chuckle escaping his lips, “I promise, okay? You will get out of this car in one piece.” Jaeyun kisses your knuckles and it’s both stomach fluttering and impressive how he can handle a car going 80mph and still have time to dote on you.
The romance doesn’t last too long though, because he has to lock in and focus. Behind him, Yeonjun’s car looms closer, headlights glowing like the eyes of a predator. He’s tailing Jaeyun so closely that any error, even a slight miscalculation, could end it all in a brutal collision. Jaeyun glances at his rearview mirror, catching a glimpse of Yeonjun’s face, fierce and determined.
He figured your brother wouldn’t be in the best of moods with his act.
“You think that little gap’s gonna stop him?” you mutter, gripping the seat as Jaeyun expertly rounds another bend, tyres squealing against the track’s rough surface.
“Not a chance,” Jaeyun replies with a grin. “But it’ll take him a few seconds longer. Enough for me to play with.”
He shifts gears, feeling the engine’s deep growl as he powers down a straight stretch, his speedometer needle pushing higher. Yeonjun matches his pace, but Jaeyun, ever the strategist, swerves slightly, throwing up a cloud of grit in his rival’s direction. The dust storm is thick enough to obscure Yeonjun’s vision momentarily, forcing him to fall back by a hair’s breadth.
Jaeyun accelerates, barely missing a pile of tyres on his right. Just as he slips past, Yeonjun veers to the inside lane, attempting to pass on Jaeyun’s left. The corner’s coming up fast - a sharp, unforgiving turn with no forgiveness if they misjudge. Jaeyun catches on immediately, not giving Yeonjun the satisfaction. With a calculated flick of the wheel, he forces Yeonjun to either fall back or risk veering straight into the barrier.
Yeonjun, however, isn’t about to let him off easy. He falls back just enough to avoid a crash but quickly cuts to Jaeyun’s other side, inches away, daring him to swerve first. Their cars glide nearly side-by-side, matching each other’s pace in a tense, furious dance.
It’s so scary, being in the passenger seat of a car that’s almost buckling under the pressure of how fast it’s going. Of course, you knew this was not going to be like overtaking someone on the M8, but you sure as fuck didn’t expect this. The world is flying by you so fast that you can’t begin to comprehend how either of them even drives like this.
Your brother’s car pulls up beside you both and making eye contact with him is the worst thing in the world you could do.
“Y/N, what the fuck?!” you lip read, unable to actually hear him over the roar of the engines. He blames you so easily - even if it is 60% of your fault because you answered Jaeyun’s beckon - but it still makes you a little mad.
Did you want to be dragged into this? Absolutely not. All you wanted was to kiss your pretty non-boyfriend good luck on his birthday, you didn’t need all these dramatics with it; you get enough fireworks in your belly from his pretty mouth alone.
The sound of the engine thunders louder, Jaeyun accelerating and pushing his car beyond its threshold as he glides through the race. It’s all pretty intense - and oddly fun - but it’s not about to be in roughly one minute.
“Devil’s Corner’s up,” you murmur as if Jaeyun even needs the reminder. But he only nods, that familiar smirk dancing on his lips, a spark of something almost wicked in his eyes.
“I know,” he says with a determined grin, shifting gears smoothly as he sets up for the turn. “This is where your brother won’t risk it. He’s too careful with the track; it’s got him wrapped around its finger.”
“Everyone is careful around this part of the track…” you half express as a statement while also hinting that it could be a question, inquiring what Jaeyun could possibly do next.
Your trail-off sentence steals his attention and he sees the query in your eyes. He inhales deeply before addressing the elephant in the car you’ve somehow given birth to.
“Princess, do you trust me?”
“Of course, it’s the track I don’t,” you confess.
“Me either, but I gotta pull all the punches here; for the track, for the Lucifiers…for Mingi.” His voice cracks a little as he thinks of his friend, and the damage it caused him.
Jaeyun's gaze hardens, fingers gripping the wheel so tightly his knuckles whiten, as though he’s holding not just the car but every ounce of the Lucifier’s pride and promise he’s made as their leader. His mind is as sharply focused on Mingi as it is on the wheel, almost as if his friend’s presence is woven into every inch of the track ahead. There’s a weight he feels, a determination to make his best friend proud, to take the track that cost Mingi so much.
"Trusting me means sticking it out," he adds, almost like a dare. “You ready?”
You swallow, nerves bubbling as you nod, barely managing a steady breath. “Just…don’t do anything stupid, okay?” But even as you say it, you know Jaeyun’s already got a strategy, one as risky as it is relentless. He could fucking kill you right now and yet, you’re ready to put your life in his hands, because you know he’s never going to snap it.
Kind of like your heart.
Ahead, Devil’s Corner yawns open like a waiting trap, and Yeonjun knows it. You can feel the weight of your brother’s stare from the other car, his eyes sharp with worry and rivalry. He’s fought this corner countless times and knows that going at it full throttle will never end well. You catch the fleeting look on Yeonjun’s face - a mixture of fear, anger, and an unspoken warning. He’s petrified for you, not knowing how far Jaeyun will go to secure the win.
Yet, you couldn’t be calmer.
“Hold on, yeah?” Jaeyun instructs and you immediately obey, watching as the dial hits it’s peak, his car flying even further in front of Yeonjun’s.
“You need to slow down, Jae…” you warn.
“How about you put that trust into action yeah?” he snaps back, though his anger isn’t directed at you, he’s just nervously tense. Who wouldn’t be in a situation like this? So you don’t hold it against him. If anything, it just makes you want to take his hand in yours and offer him some semblance of comfort.
But that would be silly right now considering there’s a death corner with you and his name on it.
As Jaeyun steers into Devil’s Corner, the entire car seems to tighten, every movement rippling through you as though you were an ant, squashed under the tyre. The pressure outside is immense, like a wall of wind trying to shove the car off the road. Inside, it’s nearly as suffocating, the tension compressing everything around you, even your heartbeat syncs with each vibration of the engine.
The curve is sharp - even sharper than you’d realised watching from the stands - and you feel the pull of gravity as Jaeyun doesn’t so much follow the turn as he cuts through it, daring the edge. Gravel spits and clinks against the sides of his precious baby.
Yeonjun is somewhere far back, but you can’t even think about him or his safety. The only thing consuming your mind is Jaeyun’s grip on the wheel and the creeping dread and exhilaration fighting for space in your lungs.
Squeezing your eyes shut, you convince yourself that it’s less scary to face it if you can’t actually see it - using the ‘if I can’t see you, you can’t see me’ childlike tactic to feel brave. And in the midst of it all, as the car feels like it’s on the edge of its control, you hear Jaeyun’s voice over the noise - a steadying presence cutting through as he senses your apprehension.
“Nearly there, Princess,” he mutters through gritted teeth, his jaw clenched and his heart holding still within his chest. Although he’s fighting the battle of fear and hope inside of him, his voice anchors you just enough to brace yourself.
The car rockets through the tightest part of the bend, wheels practically skating on the track's very edge - the same edge that caused Mingi his loss of legs. You grip onto whatever you can as Jaeyun’s knuckles whiten, his hands firm and controlled on the wheel. The tension in the car mounts like a coiled spring ready to snap, the corner pulling both of you, testing how far it can go before either you or the car breaks under pressure.
At last, you feel the tail end of the car swerve slightly as Jaeyun gives just enough leeway to keep control, and you can sense him gaining ground, just barely escaping the grasp of the turn. Devil’s Corner spits you both out onto the straight stretch and for a heartbeat, there’s only the muted sound of your breathing, mixing with Jaeyun’s, heavy and relieved.
Finally, you open your eyes to see the road unwinding ahead, straighter, safer, and almost welcoming after the chaos of the corner. Your pulse is still racing, but the danger feels like it’s finally behind you - or so you hope. Jaeyun throws you a quick, side-glance, his usual cocky smirk returned but softer, almost a silent acknowledgement of the risk he just took with you by his side.
He doesn’t need to say anything, but as he shifts gears, pressing down harder on the accelerator to widen the gap between him and Yeonjun, his smirk says it all: That was for Mingi, and for you.
Once he sees the finish line in sight, he breathes out and slaps the wheel harshly. “Fuck, yeah!” he hollers, a shit-eating grin plastered all over his face, victory secured and only a long stretch away.
“Holy fuck…” you breathe out, chest heaving and eyes glued to the road in front of you.
“And you doubted me,” he feigns an upset pout and tilts his head in your direction.
“Well, you still have Yeonjun to deal with.” The reminder of your brother fast approaching doesn’t rock him, instead, he laughs.
Shaking his head as if Yeonjun’s trailing position is as much of an inconvenience as a bird shitting on his windshield, Jaeyun places a hand on your thigh and squeezes. “He’s still there because I let him be there. Can’t humiliate the guy completely y’know? He’ll be my family in the future.”
Your mouth opens as you process his words, unsure if he even realises what he just said. It’s a pass-away promise of commitment, and considering you aren’t even officially dating, you would say it’s thrown you off of Everest and has your mind tumbling down after your body.
It’s probably best to bring it up later though, you don’t want to throw him off, especially considering he’s still going 50mph.
He smirks and revs the engine once more, pushing the car just shy of its limits. “Why so worried? I’ve got a perfect record of keeping you safe, don’t I?” He raises an eyebrow at you, his voice laced with that familiar teasing tone.
“Oh, you mean the ‘perfect’ record that almost just got me toppling over into the ditches of Devil’s Corner?” You roll your eyes, but a smile creeps onto your face.
“You’re alive, aren’t you?” he grins, then he pulls his attention fully to the finish line up ahead. It’s close enough now that the crowd is visible, and he salutes them with a quick flick of his hand.
God, he’s so hot when he’s like this. How lazily arrogant his entire racing persona is. You adore his softer side, of course you do, but this side of him gets your own motor running.
Yeonjun, however, isn’t ready to concede. He surges forward, lining up beside you both in a final, determined push, his car engine roaring with a fury that sends chills down your spine. You see him shoot a glare, not just at Jaeyun, but at you as well. But Jaeyun merely returns the look, cool and unbothered, and then, with one final roar of his engine, he edges past the line first, a triumphant laugh escaping his lips.
Jaeyun’s car barrels across the finish line with a triumphant howl from the crowd, cheers blending with the echo of his engine as he cuts through the air, a living victory. The thrill radiates off him; he punches the air, letting out a victorious whoop as his foot remains steady on the accelerator. He finally glances over at you, his face alive with pure elation, his cocky grin fully in place. But instead of slowing down, he maintains his speed, the wind whipping through the car as you look back at the receding crowd.
"Wait - where are we going?" you ask confused, looking back as you pass by everyone and leaving them in the wake of victory.
Jaeyun flicks his gaze over, eyes dark with both mischief and longing. “I don’t know if you’ve forgotten, Y/N, but you still owe me my birthday present,” he says hick and low, each word like a steady drumbeat against your pulse.
You raise an eyebrow, trying to keep your own voice steady. “Don’t you want to celebrate with everyone? You just won the Lucifers the grit track and Devil’s Corner.”
He lets out a laugh, deep and incredulous. “Celebrate with everyone else? Princess, I’d be out of my mind to spend one more second without seeing what you have for me. I would be fucking insane, actually.” He eyes you hungrily, already imagining all the possibilities under your dress or up your sleeve. His tongue brushes his bottom lip in a glazing swoop, a promise lingering in his gaze that leaves your cheeks feeling warmer than they should.
He shifts gears, and you glance back to see the track and the crowd becoming distant figures in the rearview mirror, your brother among them. “Besides,” Jaeyun adds, leaning closer as he cuts through the night, “Do you really wanna see Yeonjun right now?”
“...No.”
“Good, then trust me.”
_____
The car halts, tyres crunching over gravel as you take in the scene before you. Below the dark sky, the city sprawls out like a tacky but beautiful Christmas night with glittering lights, each window and streetlamp reminiscent of a fairy light. Below, the river carves an almost silver line through it all, shimmering under the moonlight. It’s too beautiful for you to describe and give it the credit it deserves.
Jaeyun doesn’t speak at first. His hand finds yours, fingers slipping through as he releases a slow, steady breath. He wasn’t aware how badly his muscles were suffocating his bones until now. His thumb brushes over your knuckles, an absent yet soothing gesture, and he finally lets himself relax, the hard lines of his jaw softening as he looks at you. The moonlight catches his features, highlighting the relief etched on his face - a look so different from the racer who stared down Devil’s Corner only 20 minutes ago.
For a moment, you both just sit there, silently letting the thrill of the night settle. You turn to him, sensing his guard finally lowered, his eyes holding something warmer, deeper than his usual confident smirk.
“It’s so pretty here,” you murmur softly, nodding towards the city.
“Yeah,” he murmurs, bringing your lips to his hand and kissing your knuckles softly, the tingle from the spark shooting all over your body. “I’d say the view is pretty fucking perfect.”
A blush creeps on your face, his eyes glued onto you as he mumbles the words into your skin, each syllable fluttering to your heart. Of course, he means you. He has seen this exact city view a million times, often coming up here after races to cool off and regather himself.
It’s the first place he drove to once he heard about Mingi.
It’s the first place he drove to once he met you.
It’s the first time he’s shown someone this spot.
Letting go of your hand, he quickly offers you a small smile before undoing his seatbelt. “C’mon, let's get a closer look.”
With that, you follow him and you both settle against the hood of the car, your shoulders brushing as you take in the sprawling lights below, wrapped in the quiet of the moment. The city glows, pulsing like a heartbeat, life so obvious yet subtle. You tilt your head toward him and nudge him softly.
“So,” you say, half-smiling, “how does it feel?”
“What?”
“Winning the grit track.”
He shrugs, and his gaze becomes distant, falling somewhere into the night. The silence stretches on, but it’s comfortable, the city’s buzz helping to fill the contemplative silence between words.
“I don’t care,” he murmurs, surprising you into a pause.
“What do you mean?” you ask, caught off guard. After all, this entire night was about winning the territory, claiming a stake over it and expanding the Lucifers’ ground. It sounds like a shitty action movie on Tubi now that you think about it, but that really is what the crews strive for. So for Jaeyun to say he doesn’t care, when he did what his past leaders couldn’t, throws you for a new one.
“The track…he can keep it,” Jaeyun says with a dismissive wave, almost as if he’s letting go of a heavy burden. “It was never about winning a stupid bit of dirt road.” He pauses, biting his lip as he searches for the right words. “I wanted to prove that TC had something to do in Mingi’s accident.”
The words leave his mouth in a rush, and you feel the weight of his pain and loyalty colliding in that confession. Jaeyun’s gaze stays trained on the city, brow furrowed, his jaw set, the ease on his bones only lasting the skip of a jump rope.
He truly believes that Yeonjun was involved - that he orchestrated some plan to knock Mingi out. You’ve seen Jaeyun’s loyalty; you know Mingi is more than a friend to him, practically family, and Jaeyun’s heart has no room to consider the idea that Mingi could’ve just…lost control.
You scoot closer, placing a gentle hand on his arm, sensing how vulnerable this confession has left him. “Look, Jaeyun,” you start, hesitating. “I don’t believe my brother would do something like that. But just because you made it through Devil’s Corner safely this time doesn’t rule out anything, yeah? There’s still a chance he had nothing to do with it…but maybe he did.”
He looks at you, contemplation written in the lines around his eyes, but doubt remains.
“I just can’t accept that it was some accident, you know?” he finally says, his voice tight with frustration. “Mingi was solid. The guy could practically drive in his sleep, and suddenly he spins out there?” His shoulders tense as he talks, each word laced with an anger born of grief and unresolved questions. He wants answers, and you sense how deeply he’s embedded in this conviction.
“Okay, so what if…” You hesitate, not truly believing the words coming out of your mouth right now, but knowing Jaeyun needs something to hold onto his faith in Mingi. “What if Yeonjun did have something to do with Mingi’s accident? He could have been planning it tonight but called it off because I was in the car with you?”
Biting the inside of his cheek, Jaeyun lets out a harsh laugh, but it’s not at you. “Then I could have got you fucking hurt, and what kind of man does that make me?”
It’s as if any reasoning or justification for his actions has suddenly all surged to his mouth and left a bitter taste, one that he finds hard to coat over with some mints. In his mind, he convinced himself for the moment that he was saving you, but in actuality, maybe he was just protecting himself.
He could have lost you.
That though makes him stand up and walk closer to the cliff edge, not enough to cause you alarm, but enough that indicates he’s in the need of feeling free from his mind.
And that’s something you can definitely help with.
Pushing yourself off the car, you reach out to him, lacing your arms around his waist as you hug him tightly from behind. Instantly, he cups your linked hands in his and melts into you, closing his eyes in relief as you kiss his back ever so gently.
“We can’t know what happened that night, Jaeyun, no one ever will. But it’s also not your battle.”
“But I-”
“No. End of story.” You twist him around to face you, your hands dipping your hands into his back pockets. “Mingi and Yeonjun raced that night, the outcome was what it was, and we have to move on. The longer we sit in the past, in this mindset of what if and what could have been, you prolong everyone’s pain, especially yours. And I won’t sit back and watch you do it.”
It’s tough, and you wish you could have laid it all out a little more prettily, but a dagger of truth won’t sink into skin if it’s covered in padding and fluff.
Jaeyun’s eyes portray a man trying to will himself to argue with you, that fight for his friend still very much alive. Yet, he knows you’re right. He isn’t helping himself by wallowing in the past, he’s only hurting himself and creating a deeper hole in his chest, one that is consuming him alive.
But no one has told him to get the fuck over it. Not until now.
“I know for a fact that Mingi does not want you dwelling on it, especially not tonight. You won the grit track, I’d say he’ll be over the moon with that, wouldn’t you?”
The last nudge is enough to make Jaeyun nod, a small smile creeping on his face. “Yeah. I saw him before the race and all he asked was ‘don’t fucking die and get us that track’.”
“See? You achieved both of those requests, I would say that’s worth celebrating,” you grin widely up at him, relieved to see his jaw loosen and shoulders unravel themselves. “It’s also your birthday…which is another reason to celebrate.”
Jaeyun checks his watch and sucks in a breath, his playful demeanour slowly coming back to the surface, much to your delight. “It’s actually past my birthday now.”
Widening your eyes, you drag his wrist to your face, reading the clock's arms as they disappointingly read 12:04am. The sadness is plastered all over your face, your eyes looking glassy due to both regret and the cold wind nipping them.
Jaeyun immediately notices your solemn expression and pouts, holding back a laugh. “Princess, it’s okay.”
“It’s not. I didn’t even get to give you your presents.” You are never one for being late with gifts, in fact, you take birthdays so seriously that gifts are often in your friend’s hands early in the morning. Every birthday is precious to you, well, maybe not your own, but you love to make others feel appreciated and seen on the one day that is reserved for them.
The racer looks at his watch again and reaches for the dial, twisting it back as the small arrow rounds anti-clockwise to the 11. Happily, he flashes the watch’s face in front of yours. “Look, now it’s 11:05pm. You have 55 minutes left.”
A laugh bursts out of you, the heartache over the small inconvenience now lifted by his antics. He always knows what to do, what to say, how to lift you up so easily, it’s his superpower.
“Okay, which one do you want first?” you step back and place your hand on your hips, exhaling the drama from tonight out of your system. No more racing, no more brother, no more bad thoughts. Just you and Jaeyun celebrating the final hour of his birthday.
“There’s more than one?” he asks in a smug tone.
“There are three in total. One is your main present and two are tiny little things,” you explain.
Nodding, Jaeyun feigns ponder as he taps his chin. “Well, I think I should save my main for last, so let’s start with the ‘tiny little things’” he repeats back to you, knowing that they won’t in fact be tiny, their significance probably vastly bigger than any other gift he has ever received throughout his previous 21 birthdays.
Holding up a finger, you tell him to wait before you open the right backseat door of his car and retrieve two carefully wrapped gifts. You put in far too much effort in folding each corner perfectly and twirling every bow to sit neatly, but looking at your work now, you can safely say it was all worth it.
Confusion crosses Jaeyun’s pretty face as he points to his car. “When did you sneak into my car and put them in there?” he asks with piqued confusion. He would notice bright yellow wrapping paper with orange ribbons in a minute, the colours bouncing so brightly off his black interior.
“I didn’t,” you shrug as you confess, holding out the two gifts. “I shoved them both under my seat when you paid for the gas yesterday.”
“Your seat, huh?” he repeats with a lace of amusement, taking the top box from your grasp.
“Well, do you drive other women about?”
“Don’t ask fucking ridiculous questions. You’re the only girl.”
You curse your stomach for flipping out like it’s on an Alton Towers ride, the statement probably meaning nothing significant from his lips. He always says pass away comments like that, and each one you desperately try not to read into too much, your heart having a hard time already with calling this relationship between you both casual, never mind your brain popping up with conspiratorial thoughts that he could see you as something more than his non-girlfriend.
Gently, his hands peel the wrapping paper off, and reveal the first gift.
“Lollipops?” he laughs out, though joy shines from his features.
“Well I saw you were running low, and it is my fault you need to stock up on them, so…” you explain sheepishly, your foot carving out nonsense lines in the gravel.
Since you started hooking up, Jaeyun quit smoking. You hate the taste of the cigarette on his tongue and the smell of it in his car, and he caught onto that instantly. The way you would spray your perfume ‘randomly’ after he flicked the butt out his window, or how you offered him a chewing gum coincidently a few minutes before you climbed into his lap and licked into his mouth.
It didn’t take a genius to figure it out.
So he stopped. Cold turkey without a second thought. He still had the itch though, muscle memory constantly bringing something to his lips for a drag. That’s when you gave him a strawberry Chupa Chups and he never looked back. His dentist hates you for it, but his doctor couldn’t be more delighted.
Taking a cola lollipop from the assorted selection, he unwraps it and places it into his mouth, humming as the beautiful taste hits his tastebuds. His tongue swirls the ball of goodness and he instantly smiles at your reaction, deciding to play on it.
You curse him, his smirk widening as he rolls his eyes and opens his mouth just wide enough for you to watch the cola lolly get coated in his saliva, his tongue enveloping it the exact same way he does with your clit when he’s buried face first between your thighs.
Squeezing your legs together in order to stop the flow of arousal from dripping down your leg, you thrust the other present into his chest, retrieving the box of lollipops from him in the process. The further these things are from his mouth right now, the better.
“Okay, now this one,” you urge, clearing your throat and hating the way he pushes the sweet to the side of his mouth, the stick pocking out the corner of his mouth like a toothpick. Somehow, it only made him hotter, like Heath Ledger in 10 Things I Hate About You.
God, now you’re even more horny.
Jaeyun nods and flips the gift over, inspecting what it could possibly be. But he’s never been good at guessing, so he quickly tears the paper off, a little more forcefully than the lollipops. A black box adds another layer of suspense and curiosity. “Did you get me a diamond necklace?” he jokes, but once he peels open the lid, nothing is funny anymore.
His eyes flicker between you and the gift. “Y/N…”
“It’s not much, I know. But I thought it was fun,” you explain, scared that it’s not enough.
Picking it from the box, Jaeyun inspects it carefully. To most, it’s just a keyring, but to him, it’s the most thoughtful gift he has ever been given. The mini replica of his precious car, clearly hand-decorated by you stands out - the red decals and perfectly selected interior act as a mirror to the real thing; even the license plate has his famous J4K3YUN etched into it. The black Honda Civic replica sits so tiny yet powerful in his hands.
It was the first car he could afford. Everyone laughed at him - even Mingi - when he turned up to his first race. It’s a shitty little car with not much horsepower, but considering he was only seventeen when he started racing, he could hardly afford to put his student loan into a BMW or Aston Martin. Instead, he modified it, just enough to put his name out there.
His baby has never let him down since. All those times everyone has pestered him to trade her in have never crossed his mind. Even you know how much she means to him. Why else would you have given him an oversized keyring of it?
You know him, and that squeezes Jaeyun’s throat, stopping him from expressing thanks.
“If you pop open the boot, it has something inside,” you point out, excited. He’s made modifications to the real thing, but you got crafty with the mini-me.
“Can anything even fit in this?” he laughs but nonetheless, opens the boot - and it is not what he was expecting.
The interior has been prettily painted pastel pink, with glitter and gems perfectly placed inside, crowding the minuscule space. The first initials of your names are enveloped in a shakily drawn heart. It’s pretty and so very, very you.
Jaeyun’s eyes sparkle in the moonlight and you interpret it as pure adoration, injecting some pride into your chest. He likes it - thank fuck.
“I thought it was fun, since y’know, on the outside you’re all tough and metal but inside you’re just a sparkly pink princess.” You place the lollipop box on the hood and step closer, inspecting your work once more - as if you haven’t been scrutinizing every detail of it over the past month.
Throwing his head back in a laugh, he blinks away the joy in his tear ducts and nods, sighing out in defeat. “I’m not so sure ‘princess’ is the word I’d use-” he starts, only for you to interrupt.
“Oh, you are,” you insist, taking the lollipop from his mouth and placing it in your own, “You’re the prettiest princess to ever exist, actually.”
“I think that title is reserved for you, baby,” he grins fondly, eyes raking over every feature of your face as you savour the taste of the cola sweet. “Thank you…so much, Y/N, no one has ever gotten me something so thoughtful. I really love-...it. A lot.” His throat tightens, words tangling up in his chest, but thankfully, you don’t seem to notice
Nodding, you give him a soft kiss, careful not to poke him with the lollipop stick, before taking the gift back, carefully placing it and the lollipops in the car for safekeeping. “Now, do you want your big present?” You wiggle your brows and shut the car door, almost skipping back to your spot in front of him.
Jaeyun was so caught up with everything tonight that he forgot that this was the reason he whisked you away as soon as the race ended, at least, it was the shallow reason. The deeper reason is something he won’t speak out into the night air.
Placing his hands on your hips, glides his hands up and down your sides, the warmth from his palms blissfully welcome. You love this dress, the way you feel in it, how it makes you look, but it isn’t exactly good for fighting the nipping cold away, especially considering the wind is much thinner up on the cliff.
“My big present…” he repeats, bringing his face down to yours, his hot breath creating a rose tint along your cheeks. “I think I want that more than anything right now.” His confession is raw and more than surface-level lust. He has so many emotions running through his body right now, and he knows that your present is going to be exactly what he needs.
“You need to unwrap it then.” The smirk on your face is contagious and your voice is low. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out what your gift is, but he’s in for a treat nonetheless.
Jaeyun does pause for a moment, his hands fiddling with your zipper at the back but hesitant. “I think my gift might freeze to death if I unwrap it here, don’t you think?”
You hadn’t…thought about that actually. To be honest, when it comes to Jaeyun’s cock, that’s probably the only thing you think about. Rain or shine, snow or fog; if his dick is close to being inside of you, you’ll face any weather.
His fingers pinch the zipper and tug it down slowly, the winter air biting up your spine, but the shivers that are rippling through your body aren’t from freezing; the opposite in fact. The ghost of his fingertip creates a heated surge through your body, your skin igniting with pure desire.
Pushing the dress off your shoulders, your tits are laid bare in front of him, nipples hard and much more delicous than any lollipop Jaeyun could ever suck. They’re perfect, so perfect that he has a hard time putting his love for them into words.
“No bra?” he asks cheekily, that cocky boy everyone loves swimming to the surface of the night.
Shaking your head, you close your eyes as he cups them delicately. “Dress didn’t look right with it.”
“Is that the only reason?” Jaeyun’s thumbs flick over your hardened buds as he backs you up to the hood, you ass perched against the edge, a welcomed seat considering your legs could turn to jelly at any moment.
Truth be told, it was the main reason you didn’t wear a bra, with the tightness of the dress, it didn’t allow much more room for any extra padding. But you can’t lie and say that you also didn;t adorn one because it would save time.
“I’ll take your silence as confirmation, will I?” he murmurs, his lips grazing the hollow of your throat before travelling down, sending waves of warmth through you with each kiss.
You feel the cool press of the hood beneath you as he lifts you up to perch you, his mouth finally closing around one of your nipples now you’re at the perfect height, his tongue tracing lazy, agonising circles that make your breath catch. He shifts to the other, his gaze flicking up to meet yours as he bites gently, eyes smouldering with a dark intensity that only makes you want him more.
With each flick of his tongue, your mind fogs over, the chill of the night air long forgotten. His mouth leaves a trail of wet, open-mouthed kisses as he works his way down, fingers slipping under the fabric gathered at your hips, thumbs tracing soothing lines along your waist.
“Are these new?” he hikes your dress up so only your waist is covered and your new panties are on full display for him. It’s incredible how he noticed initially through touch alone, his mind cataloguing each thong, brief, and lacey panty you own.
“Yeah, got them a few days ago.” You don’t need to tell him that you bought them specifically for his birthday, he will know just by the Ivory colour alone.
A playful smirk curves on his lips as he takes in the sight of your new lingerie, his fingers grazing over the delicate lace with a possessive tenderness. “I thought so,” he murmurs, voice low and almost reverent as his thumb hooks under the fabric, dragging it down with aching slowness, leaving your cunt exposed, yet you feel anything but vulnerable.
There is a thrill of anticipation that crackles between you as his hands linger, his thumb tracing a line along your thigh. You’re so consumed with how close he is to your heat that you almost miss his other hand coming up to remove the cola lolly from your mouth.
“Open up,” he instructs, which you blindly follow, releasing the delicious treat from your mouth. “Good girl. Now, spread open for me.”
“Jaeyu-”
“It’s my birthday, Princess. I still have,” he checks his rewound watch, “36 minutes left, so until then, you gotta do what I say, yeah?”
That sounds perfect to you if you weren’t aware of how much of a tease he is. He’s going to torture you on the hood of his car, you know it, but you relent anyway, giving him a sharp nod and breathing out slowly.
Your legs spread wide, your feet finding stability on his bumper. The compromising position could mean anything, your mind flashing with all the possibilities of what he could do to you.
And by fuck, does he have a sweet, sweet plan.
A glint of mischief flickers in his gaze as he tilts the lollipop, the cola sweet glistening in the moonlight as he brings it down to hover just above your entrance. The sticky sweetness clings to the night air, and you feel your body tense with anticipation, each nerve heightened by the thrill of surrendering control.
He runs the candy along your inner thigh first, slow and deliberate, leaving a faint, sugary trail that he follows with his mouth. The coolness of the lollipop contrasts sharply with the warmth of his breath, sending shivers skittering up your spine as his lips and tongue trace after, claiming every inch of sweetness he’s left on your skin.
Finally, he presses the lollipop between your folds, teasingly dragging it up and down without quite giving you what you need, his eyes fixed on your reactions, devouring every tremor, every bite of your lip and jerk of your hips as the lollipop circles your clit. The sensation is maddening, the blend of sticky from the sweet and your own juices only heightens the ache building within you, and he seems to revel in the slow, torturous rhythm he’s set. He wants to take his time.
The lolly ghosts your entrance before he presses it ever so slightly inside, your breath hitching at the unexpected sensation. His mouth follows close behind, claiming you with a slow, deliberate kiss that has your toes curling against the bumper, his tongue tracing the sweetness lingering on your skin.
A wave of heat radiates through you as Jaeyun continues his maddeningly slow pace, the lollipop pressed just at your entrance, teasing and coaxing you in a way that has your pulse racing, much like how it was when you were near death on Devil’s Corner.
He dips the lollipop in a little further, the rounded edge pressing in just enough to make you gasp and claw at his car bonnet, and then he draws it back out, running it up and over your clit with agonising patience. The pressure of the sweet gliding over your most sensitive spot has you squirming, but his hands are firm on your thighs, keeping you right where he wants you.
“Hold still,” he murmurs, a wicked smile curving on his lips as he swirls the lollipop slowly, tracing lazy circles that leave you breathless. The candy, now coated in your own slick, sends shockwaves through you, and you feel yourself clenching, trying to draw him deeper, desperate for more. Jaeyun seems to notice, and he chuckles softly, his warm breath tickling against your inner thigh.
With one last, lingering drag of the candy over your clit, he brings it to his mouth, sucking in the mix of flavours. Your sweetness mixing on his tastebuds with the cola makes his eyes roll and contemplate opening up a business just for him that sells pussy flavoured lollies. Specifically, your pussy, of course.
“You’re fucking delicious, Princess,” he moans out, sucking the pop with fervour. You’re so jealous and you curse ever buying him them. But not really, the scene of his tongue lapping it up eagerly, mixed with the saliva that's glistening on his lips only adds a series of precious memories that you can happily store in your wank bank.
Threading your fingers through his hair, you tug at it just rough enough for him to growl. “Please, I’m trying to cum for you before your birthday ends.”
“Yeah?” he huffs out a laugh and tosses the almost obsolete lolly away, the stick hidden by the gravel that swallows it. “I can make that happen.”
“Good-”
“If you beg.”
You freeze, resisting the urge to tell him to go fuck himself. If there is one thing you hate most in the world, it’s begging for a man. You can submit to Jaeyun, sure, that’s easy enough. But there’s something so humiliating about having to plead for your own pleasure. He never makes you beg, usually too fucking impatient himself to play that game, so this is not exactly in your forte.
“I’m not begging. No way.” You cross your arms and shake your head adamantly.
Jaeyun’s smirk widens as he sees your defiance, his gaze darkening with something that borders on both amusement and challenge. “Really now?” he murmurs as his thumb traces slow circles on your inner thigh, inching achingly close but not quite where you want him. “You’re gonna stand by that?”
His eyes roam over you, taking in the way your body reacts despite your stubbornness, and you can feel the tension building in the air as he leans in, his lips hovering just above your core, close enough for you to feel the heat of his breath. The anticipation sends shivers racing over your skin, but you keep your arms crossed, refusing to relent.
“I know you hate it. You’re so powerful, baby. I adore that about you,” he continues in a low murmur, voice laced with a teasing edge, “But just once, for me?” He pouts, bottom lip overtaking his entire face and somehow making him look even more irresistible.
That fucking pout.
With a small laugh, he shifts down, pressing soft and tongue-focused kisses along your thighs, each one closer than the last. His breath is warm, and you can feel the control slipping from you with every careful movement.
“Fine,” you say finally, voice barely more than a whisper, “Please, eat me out.”
“Come on, Princess. If you’re going to beg, I want to hear you properly.”
“Jaeyun,” you whine, already flushing up with embarrassment.
“How about,” his mouth places one feather-light kiss on your clit, a gasp of pleasure drawing from your lips, “I beg you to beg me? Then we’re both on the same boat.”
Now, while you don’t like to beg, you love to hear Jaeyun beg. There have been countless times when you’re on your knees, much like he is now, and your mouth is a hairline away from his tip, and he’s thrashing under you, moaning out pleas and needs in a higher pitch, wanting nothing more than you to consume his painfully hard cock in his mouth.
Jaeyun doesn’t have humility when he is with you, he’ll scratch and claw at the bedsheets, whine out your name in desperation, and have you take full control if you want to. You wish you could be more like that, because fuck does it look beautiful, and you know he will love it if you’re a crying, pleading mess under him.
It would be the perfect birthday gift, actually.
So with a heavy sigh, you close your eyes and clear your throat. “Okay. But only if you go first.”
Jaeyun smirks and rubs some heat back into your legs. With soft, kitten-like licks, he plays between your folds, giving you an inch of what's to come. “Princess, please beg for me. I’ve been such a good birthday boy, have I not? I need to hear you want me, the same way I need you. This pretty pussy deserves to be devoured, and I can only do that if you beg for it. Please, baby. Pretty please with a lollipop on top.”
God, he is so fucking good at it. Somehow he still sounds so strong and assured even when you can hear the cracks in his voice and the tremble on his lips. His hips buck the air, mimicking what he wants to do with you, his cock leading him, thinking with his second head.
Whimpering, you look down to see him adorning that pretty pout once again, and you crumble.
“I nod. Jaeyun…please make my cum on your tongue, let me give you the best birthday gift. I want you to lap me up and never stop, make you remember this birthday for the rest of your life. Please, baby.”
You don’t cringe, instead letting your desperation take charge, which gladly works. Jaeyun groans loudly at your filthy words as they echo over the cliff, giving the city indication of what’s taking place. His cock is so painfully hard against his jeans that he wonders if it has the ability to tear through the material like Hulk when he transforms. It certainly feels like it could.
“Good girl,” he praises, before giving you what you crave.
Connecting his mouth to your core, his skilled tongue has you keening, head falling back against the car hood as he licks a broad, firm stroke from your entrance to your clit. His lips close around you, his tongue flicking and swirling as he loses himself in the taste of you, his hands spreading your thighs even wider to hold you firmly in place.
He slurps and devours you, humming into your hole in pure lust. Jaeyun loves nothing more than being buried in pussy, he could spend the rest of his life between thighs, your thighs. The added tints of cola still lingering on your skin only heighten his arousal, the sweet tang mixture enough for him to dig his nails into your thighs and bury further in.
Arching your back, your thighs fight his grip as they try and clamp around his head, the way his tongue dips into your hole, rimming it with teasing strokes before shooting back in makes your head dizzy, the November air suddenly feeling like a July breeze - welcomed and just right.
“Fuck,” you hiss out as he bites at your folds, dragging the sensitive flesh between his teeth, another way of tormenting you yet giving you everything you could want. His bottom teeth drag up to your clit with his puffy bottom lip trailing behind it like a soothing balm.
You’re starting to wonder whether it’s his birthday or yours.
With precision, Jaeyun latches onto your clit and suddenly, you’re seeing more stars in the sky, body lurching forward as you trap him there. The tension coils tightly in your stomach, and he takes his time, alternating between sucking and licking, bringing you right to the edge and pulling back just before you can tip over, savouring every second of your mounting need.
“Jaeyun, please…” you gasp, fingers threading through his hair, and he hums against you, sending a shudder through your entire body.
“See? You can beg so easily,” he mocks playfully, smirking as your thighs act as earmuffs. Despite the barricade, he can still hear every plea and mewl that falls from your lips, indicating that you’re close.
So, he picks up the pace, his hands gripping under your ass to push you further into his face. His round nose nuzzles your nub as his tongue swirls around inside your cunt, the tip of his tongue committing every bump and nook to memory - not like he hasn’t already. He knows everything about you, that’s what happens when you spend seven months doting on and worshipping the same person.
Grabbing tightly onto his hair, you feel the knot in your stomach begin to pull apart, the threads of rope straining as your climax tugs. “I’m cumming…fuck, Jaeyun,” you warn, but it’s not breaking news to the man causing the euphoria. He’s licking, sucking, and biting with ferocity because he knows you’re falling apart
He hums against you, the sound vibrating through your body, his tongue flicking over you with such skill it has you trembling. “Come on, Princess. Let go for me,” he whispers, his words like a command, and your body is happy to obey.
And then, it hits you - the release crashing through you, sending shudders of pleasure through every nerve in your body. You can’t stop it, your back arching as you clutch at his hair, your thighs trembling as the wave washes over you, and Jaeyun doesn’t stop. He keeps going, worshipping you like he’s addicted to your taste, drawing out every last drop of your orgasm.
Your chest heaves and your body goes limp as he cleans your pussy, making sure he takes every drop of his birthday gift. You taste heavenly, your cum swirling in his mouth as he slurps and sucks, the shocks jolting up your spine each time he nudges over your clit.
Once your legs release his head, he glances up at you through his thick lashes, mouth covered in your essence. “Thank you, baby,” he praises, his chest filled with a cocktail of emotions, the first as foremost one being adoration. “With 10 minutes to spare too,” he laughs, glancing at his watch.
Jaeyun stands up, kissing you with passion. He transfers your juices onto your mouth and you groan at the taste. All those days of downing pineapple and cranberry juice always pay off. His tongue licks yours, taking over your entire mouth as he claims you. His lips are sweet but his touch is anything but, you know he’s desperate, if his actions weren’t enough, the painful bulge that’s bucking into your sensitive folds is enough to tell you.
Swiftly, your hands move to his buckle, undoing it amongst the breathtaking kisses. It doesn’t take you more than a minute to undo his jeans and push them just low enough that his ass is on full display and his hard shaft can spring free. His cock is so pretty, like a work of art; six inches of pure joy. You’ve lost count of how many times this cock has made you come undone, the curve of it hitting perfectly into your cunt, like it was made for you. In some ways, you think it is.
Spreading your legs once again, you wrap your hand around his cock, the heat from it a stark contrast to your still cold hands. The sensation elicits a hiss from the birthday boy, his lips pulling from yours as he looks down. Your hand just fits around his length, and that makes his tip twitch. He’s proud of his size, but somehow he loves it even more when in the clasp of your fingers.
You press it against your wet core and he loses any sense of control he had left.
With a primal growl, he grabs your hips and lines up at your entrance, not even bothering to tease you. Between your outfit, the rush of the race, your cries of pleasure from his tongue work, and the overwhelming tightness in his heart, he needs to be inside you. Now.
Jaeyun slides in fully with one thrust, both of you creating a beautiful harmony of moans that echo like a choir in the night. His cock fills you up to the brim, his balls sitting comfortably against your ass. You feel like fucking heaven, in fact, if he was to die right now, he would do so happily. Those pearl gates could only mirror the happiness and alleviation that he feels as he buried himself to the hilt inside your warm hole.
His forehead rests on your shoulder, his lips peppering a succession of kisses just above your collarbone as he begins to move his hips, eyes rolling to the back of his head with each bump of your walls hugging him.
“Jesus fucking christ, Princess,” he mumbles, officially lost in the act of pleasure. He’s not thinking about anything else, just how your wet heat feels enveloping him.
You can’t say your thoughts aren’t also only consumed by the tip of his cock poking your cervix so deliciously, his balls slapping against you almost mimicking a spank each time. His thrusts pick up pace and you both lose yourselves in one another, chanting praises and curses to convey your feelings.
Jaeyun’s hands roam over your body as his cock pounds into you, switching from holding your hips in place to kneading your breasts, each one serving their own purpose. He wants you still so he can keep hitting that perfect spot over and over again, the squishy spec in your cunt his main target, but your tits bouncing in the moonlight keep distracting him, his cock losing power as his brain gets clouded in the movements.
“You’re so beautiful, Princess,” he confesses, kissing the valley between your breasts. “So, so beautiful.”
Your heart hammers harder, the pulse resounding in your ear as you smile gratefully. “So are you, Jaeyun.” And you mean it. He’s the most beautiful person inside and out, you’re never going to meet anyone like him again, and that’s what terrifies you.
Jaeyun locks his eyes on yours, his hips finding a new determined rhythm. He presses his forehead against yours, nuzzling his nose with yours in a kiss. How is it possible to feel so adored and cherished by a man you have no label with? That’s the question running through your mind as you stare into his soul, begging for him to answer.
And in some way, he does. His pupils shine with nothing but your reflection, showing just how deeply you're ingrained in him. Though neither of you may voice exactly what this is, you both know it.
As you lose yourselves in each other, that familiar coil tightens low in your belly, heat pooling with a desperate need for release. You dig your nails into Jaeyun's shoulders and bury your face in his neck, signalling you're close.
Gripping your waist, he matches your rhythm, pushing you both to the edge—metaphorically this time, thankfully. He's already brought you close enough to danger tonight; there’s no need to test fate again.
"Come on, baby. Cum for me," he urges, jaw clenched as he holds back his own release. He’s never been one to finish before his girl.
With his coaxing and the delicious sensation of him deep inside, you reach your climax once more, this time more intense than you expected. You bite down on his neck to muffle your moans, and like a domino, he spills into you.
His white ropes soothe your cunt, painting your walls with his adoration of you. The best decision you ever made was getting an IUD. You know it’s not full protection, but for the feeling of his seed filling you up like a cream piping bag, you’re willing to take the risk.
Jaeyun holds you close, his breath mingling with yours as both of you come down from the high, eyes blazing secret confessions into one another. The steady thud of his heart under your palm feels grounding, almost comforting in the quiet aftermath. You shift slightly, feeling his warmth begin to fade in the cool night air, yet he doesn’t let you go just yet, keeping you wrapped up in him.
“Happy birthday,” you whisper softly, letting your lips brush against his jaw, a faint smile tugging at your mouth.
Mirroring your expression, he melts into your pepper kisses as you trail down his neck, paying extra attention to the skin you marked up with your canines. His large hands glide up your back and hold you close to him. “Thank you.” It’s simple, but he’s biting his tongue, the moment too perfect to destroy with his post-nut brain.
You sense his apprehension and lean back, gazing into his eyes and studying the specs of his brain that you can make out. “You okay? You’re usually cracking out a joke by now,” you ask playfully, but there’s an undercurrent of concern in your tone.
Jaeyun bites his lips together, preparing himself to possibly make the biggest mistake of his life. He pulls out of you, jerking his cock clean enough that he can get away with it, before tucking it back into his trousers.
Oh no.
Your mind does everything to convince you that this isn’t going to end the way you think it will. The efforts to soothe your racing mind falter just at the finish line. This is it. He’s going to hit you with the ‘this has been fun but it’s not what I want anymore’ or ‘hey, so this was great but you’re not what i’m looking for’. Whatever concoction of those sentences he wants to spin, you know it’s going to hurt. You’re in too deep.
And you would much rather be humiliated with your clothes on. So you jump off the hood of the car, your slick glistening in the night lights like a snail trail. Suddenly, the acts you just took part in have turned from euphoric to sickly.
“Listen-”
“I meant it,” he interrupts, not even letting you end this before he can. “I really mean it when I say you’re the only girl for me.”
You’re waiting on the but, yet it never comes. Instead, he’s biting his lip nervously, looking at you but not into your eyes, his focus on your forehead like a sniper in the woods. And you feel like you’ve been shot, just not in the hurtful way you were expecting, it’s almost like you’re on the receiving end of a blank and the shock is ringing in your ears more than anything.
You stand dumbfounded, zipping up your dress at the back. “Huh?” It’s stupid and not what you want to ask, but your flabber has been gasted.
Jaeyun groans and rubs over his face. “I don’t want anyone else. And I know you’re annoyingly loyal to Yeonjun, but I can’t pretend that this isn’t more than what it is.” He steps forward and cups your flushed face, the cold now settling upon it once again. “I. Love. You. I have for fucking months, and…I don’t know, I can’t keep pretending I don’t.”
I. Love. You.
It’s such a simple and common phrase, yet hearing it in his accent, from his mouth, directed at you, you find it foreign.
Jaeyun hates the silence that follows, the horns from the cars down below act like a mocking laugh to the moment. He knows its risky, confessing his feelings so bluntly, but if he had to keep them in any longer then he might have buried them forever and harboured an even deeper resentment towards himself and your brother.
“You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, I get that. But can we call a spade a spade and admit that we love each other?” He insists, now finding his confidence. Go big or go home, he supposes. He’s convinced you love him too, you look at him the way he does you, and even if it’s only a tiny speckle of love that you hold for him, he needs you to admit it. For his sanity, and yours.
You can’t process a single thought beyond his words, their weight pressing down on you, making it impossible to breathe for a second. The world falls quiet around you, the buzzing city and distant hum of traffic fading as your mind hones in on his face, the intensity of his gaze, the subtle quiver of his lip as he waits.
“Jaeyun,” you manage, though it barely comes out above a whisper, “This isn’t…this isn’t exactly what we agreed on.” Stupid. Why the fuck are you saying that NOW.
“I know, but I also know you feel it too.” His thumb moves tenderly across your cheek, brushing over the spot where a tear might fall if you let it. “And if there’s even the slightest chance that you feel what I feel, I just need to know.” He pauses, his voice softening as he meets your gaze fully. “Because you’re it for me. I’m tired of pretending I don’t want to be with you completely. You deserve to be loved, and although I might not deserve to be the one to give you that, I want to try.”
You want to look away, to retreat and give yourself a chance to think, but his eyes are pleading with you to stay present, to face this. And the truth is, in some corner of your heart that you've tried to ignore, you know what he's saying is true.
But Yeonjun…If he finds out, he’ll never forgive you. It’s one thing to be in a fun fling with his rival, it’s another to be completely and utterly head over heels for the boy.
The silence is thick, but there’s an odd comfort in it. You reach up, covering his hand with yours, grounding yourself in his warmth. “I don’t want to lose you,” you murmur, voice trembling. “And I…I don’t know how we’d make it work without hurting Yeonjun.”
Jaeyun’s grip tightens, his confidence anchoring you. “I’ll make it work. I’ll do everything to make sure he accepts it. I’ll step down as the Lucifer’s leader, I’ll get on my knees and beg, baby I will do whatever it takes to get him on our side. I don’t want to come between you both, I know how precious he is to you, and you to him,” he pauses, breathing out and collecting his thoughts before he goes on a desperate faffing rant, his point losing focus. “I love you, and that means loving every part of you.”
“In the car…” you begin, voice unsure, “You said something about how Yeonjun would become your family, you meant-”
“Yeah, listen. Don’t freak out about that. I was jumping the gun with that one…but I mean, is it so unplausible? For us to be together? To imagine a future with you?”
“There’s a big difference between jumping into dating and leaping into marriage, Jaeyun.”
“Okay? So we’ll hold back on the leaping for now,” he laughs, pressing his forehead to yours, “but tell me you’ll jump.”
His breath mingles with yours, warm and steadying, grounding you in a way that makes your hesitation falter. "Jaeyun," you begin, your voice so soft it barely carries the weight of what you’re feeling. "It’s terrifying to even think about, you know that, right? Yeonjun is…he's been there my whole life, my protector, my brother…you’re asking me to risk that.”
"I know." He cups your face, his thumb tracing slow, tender circles along your cheek, calming and reassuring. "And I wouldn't ask you if I didn’t believe with every part of me that we’re worth it. But I’m not going anywhere until you’re ready; whether that’s now, or tomorrow, or a hundred years from now. I’m in this, Y/N. All the way. I just need you to say yes."
Your lips part, the words catching in your throat, suspended between the comfort of safety and the thrill of the unknown. Slowly, you reach out and lace your fingers through his, giving his hand a gentle squeeze. "Alright," you say, a tremor of nerves mingling with the glint of determination in your eyes. "I’ll jump…but you’d better catch me, Jaeyun."
A grin breaks across his face, and for a moment, everything else fades away; the rivalry, the fear, even Yeonjun. It’s just you and him, exactly how it should have been from the beginning.
"Always," he whispers, voice filled with quiet conviction. Then he closes the distance between you, sealing your promise with a kiss that’s soft, lingering, and brimming with all the words neither of you dared to speak out loud.
But maybe it’s time you do
“I love you too, Jaeyun,” you confess, eyes boring into his heart.
His eyes widen for a split second, and you see the disbelief flicker across his face, not quite sure he heard you right. But then his gaze softens, and a smile breaks across his face, one so genuine and unguarded that it sends warmth flooding through you. His hand tightens around yours, squeezing his happiness into your veins and bones.
"You don’t know how long I’ve waited to hear you say that," he murmurs, brushing his thumb over your knuckles with a tenderness that leaves your heart aching. “I fucking love you. I love you, I love you, I love you.” He chants, kissing all over your face, causing you to scrunch up and laugh, attempting to push him away but failing - not that you’re going to complain about that.
There’s a sense of relief, a lightness you haven’t felt in so long, as if all the weight of secrecy and uncertainty has lifted. For once, you’re not worrying about the consequences, about what could go wrong or who might get hurt. Right now, it’s just you and him, and the truth laid bare between you.
“Yes, okay, we love each other! Enough!” you giggle between his million and one kisses.
His hand comes up to cradle your cheek, his fingers grazing your skin with reverence. “I’m never letting you go now, you realise that, don’t you?”
You nod, a smile creeping across your face, and pull him in for another kiss, this one filled with the promise of everything that lies ahead. “Oh I know. Just wait till I tell your crew,” you laugh, pushing him away. “‘Oh, Y/N, I love you sooooo much. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me-'”
Your imitation is cut short, his hand flying over your mouth as he suppresses a laugh, trying to portray fear that isn’t truly there. “C’mon! You can’t ruin my reputation like that,” he whines, giving you that signature pout.
“Oh but I will-” Without warning, he picks you up, tossing you over his shoulder as he carried you to the backseat. “Jaeyun! Put me down!”
“I’m going to fuck every word and thought out of that pretty brain of yours so you never utter my soft side to a soul,” he playfully jabs, opening the backseat and tossing you inside.
“Well…I have a lot of thoughts…and words,” you reply, biting your lip as you settle across the seats, legs already accommodating for him.
“Then it’s gonna be a long night. I suppose I’ll need to turn my clock back some more, don’t you think?”
____
perm taglist: @immortalvee @sunpov @heeseungspookie @strawberrysavi @monstanctiny21
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@notevenheretbh1 @shawnyle @addictedtohobi @jiminie-08
@emberuby @nctislifue @lilyuwon @skzenhalove
@heeshlove @idkdykilr @chocminteu @y4wnjunz @rikibun
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@ikeuverse @dollyyun
#enhypen smut#enha smut#jake smut#jake sim smut#aj writes#enhypen x reader#jake x reader#enha x reader
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Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Pt. X
Hello hello! After a long time away I have finally returned! It's good to be back! Here's an update for the Eepy's, I hope you enjoy it!
WARNINGS: Mentions of injury and blood, suggestive comments
My Masterlist! ~ A03 Link! ~ Tip Jar!
Part IX - Part XI (TBA)
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“Got a second to talk?”
“Yeah.” You respond after a moment of hesitation, your voice raspy with sleep. “Yeah, let me just grab my coat.” You shove your feet into your boots. You glance at the group in your living room, silently telling them to stay put. All four of them looked ready to rush to your rescue without hesitation. But, if they got involved, it would only make the situation even riskier than it already could be. You shrug on your winter coat before stepping onto your landing. “Something wrong, officer?”
“That’s what I came here to ask you.” He responds. “Got a call? An unfamiliar pickup truck showed up in your lot. Four suspicious men were seen approaching your apartment.” He looks down in the lot at the beat-up truck sitting next to your car. “I'd say there's a pretty good chance they're still here.”
“That's really why you're banging on my door at the ass crack of dawn?” You ask in an annoyed tone, crossing your arms over your chest. “Well, I'm going to tell you right now, you're not getting in here without a fucking warrant-” He cuts you off by firmly saying your name.
“I'm not here to arrest anyone.” He explains in an attempt to try and diffuse your hostility. “I'm just here to check in. Are you in trouble? Do you need help?” He whispers, eyes darting between the door and your less-than-pleased expression.
You let out an aggravated sigh, “Mike, listen… the only reason I'm not running you off my property right now is because you've helped me out in the past. If I needed your help, I would ask for it. I'm not going to let you show up here and harass me or any of them because some fucking backwoods country bumpkin wants to demonize a different way of living.” You take a deep breath, seeing the genuine concern on his face. “This… isn't like last time; they wouldn't hurt me. I'm safe, promise.” He looks at the door and then back at you.
“If you even get the feeling that something is wrong, you call me.” You nod.
“Get back to the station. Your wife would be worried sick if she knew you were out driving right now.” You nodded to his vehicle, watching him descend the stairs before heading back inside the apartment. You stepped through the door, kicking off your boots and hanging up your coat with a sigh of relief now that the situation was over.
“Thank god, you're safe.” Vessel pulls you into his arms, his voice thick with worry. “What did he want?”
“Someone called to report an unfamiliar vehicle and four suspicious individuals entering my house last night; he was just swinging by for a wellness check.” You reassure him. “He might be a bit of a hard ass, but he means well. I'm sure he won't give you guys any trouble.”
“Bit of a sour start to our first morning all together, isn't it?” III chuckles, making the rest of the group laugh.
“And here I was, looking forward to cuddling up with you.” Vessel purrs, the tension from your unexpected visitor quickly melting away as they all attempt to soothe your nerves.
“Nothing is saying that can't still happen, Ves,” II responds with a smile. You see a devious smirk quickly pass over Vessel’s features. You yelp, and your feet are lifted from the floor in one swift movement. Vessel easily tosses you over his shoulder to carry you towards your bedroom. You giggle as he gently tosses you on the bed, quickly being surrounded by warmth as the boys pile around you. You lay sandwiched between II and IV, III holding one of your hands in his as he lazily plays with your fingers. Vessel’s hand possessively wraps around the curve of your waist as he reaches over II, needing to be somehow able to touch you. It didn't take long for your eyes to grow heavy, returning to sleep for the last few hours of dawn as the new day's light began to melt away the cage of ice that had covered the surrounding trees.
You smiled as you woke up, pressing into the body's warmth behind you with a soft hum. A strong arm wrapped securely around your waist, his thumb rubbing slow, languid strokes across your hip. You reach over to find the other side of the bed empty. “-’s just you and me, lovey.” Vessel purrs. You let out a soft, pleased sigh.
“Is that so?” you ask in a slightly teasing tone, your voice still thick with sleep. Was that your plan all along? Get me in bed all alone?” He meets your playful smirk with a chuckle of his own.
“You’d like that, wouldn't you, sweetness?” he whispers, his grip tightening on your waist. Your cheeks grow warm, goosebumps erupting across your skin as you feel his lips brush over the shell of your ear. “Trust me, my first time with you isn't going to be some messy little hook-up in your bedroom.” He chuckles. “I plan on worshiping you like the divine creature you are.” A shiver runs up your spine as he presses his lips to your pulse. “Until then, we just have to be patient, don't we?”
“Fine.” You sigh in mock annoyance, making Vessel laugh softly. You rest your hand on top of his, languidly tracing the spaces between his knuckles as you allow yourself to melt into his warmth. “Where are the others?”
“They're making you breakfast. We all want to make sure you have a better day after starting on the wrong foot.” He explains softly.
“You’re sweet, " you say with a smile. “The power came back on?” He lets out a hum of approval.
“Clicked on a little while after you fell asleep.” You lay there for a few moments, enjoying the feeling of Vessel’s body molding against yours. You sigh as you attempt to roll out of bed. “And where do you think you're going?” He chuckles, tightening his grip on your waist. You roll over to face him, the playfully grumpy expression on your face making him smile. “Trying to run away without giving me a kiss? That's how it's going to be, hm?” You giggle as he pulls your lips to his.
You could get used to mornings like this. After leaving your lungs burning for air and your head spinning, Vessel lazily helped you get out of bed. Scooping you up in his arms to escort you towards the kitchen. “Well, good morning, beautiful.” III stood at the stove, bacon sizzling in the pan in front of him, IV at his side cutting up fruit and tossing it into a bowl, and II sat at the table drinking a steaming cup of coffee.
“Good morning.” You greet all of them. Vessel sets you down on the floor before collapsing into one of the other chairs that had been dragged into the kitchen. IV approaches you, holding out a piece of fresh fruit for you to bite into. He rests his hand against your cheek, carefully running his thumb under your eye.
“Eyelash.” He whispers with a chuckle. He holds it out on the end of his fingeMakemake a wish.” A smile creeps across your features at the simple request. You think about it momentarily before closing your eyes, wishing that every morning could be like this with them, and blowing the eyelash away. Your eyes flutter open to meet IV’s curious gaze. He presses his lips to your forehead before returning to the task he was completing prior.
“You hungry?” You smile as III wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side.
“Starving.” You respond, giggling as he squeezes you against him, pressing a kiss to your cheek.
“I'll have breakfast done shortly, love.” You stand up on your toes, sharing a kiss through his mask before allowing him to finish cooking.
“Well, good morning, baby.” II quickly caught your attention, a warm hand settling against your waist as he pulled you into his lap. “Thought you forgot about me.” He teases with a chuckle. “My pretty girl is getting so much attention.” He squeezes your hip as his gaze lazily trails down to your lips.
“Trust me, that’s not remotely possible.” You giggle as his forehead bumps against yours, holding his lips just out of reach.
“Good,” he whispers, “because after holding you in my arms this morning, I can't seem to think of anything besides you.” Your eyes flutter shut as his lips finally brush over yours. You feel II’s legs tense underneath you as you hear IV let out a sound almost akin to a growl from across the kitchen.
“Relax.” III states in a warning tone. “You can spend time with her, too.” You watch IV’s shoulders soften under III’s intense, almost corrective demeanor. “And II, keep it respectful, yeah?” III stood like a wall between the two men, ready to launch into action at the first signs of a fight.
You hear II make an annoyed sound of approval. The fact that he seemed to be acting like a child who had just been scolded by a parent almost made you laugh. You press your lips to his cheek, “I'm going to see if they need any help.”
“Don't let them work you too hard, love.” He jokes with a wink. You laugh, shaking your head as you hop off his lap. You walk up to III, crossing your arms behind your back.
“Head chef.” You address him seriously.
“Yes, love?” He responds with a chuckle.
“Where would you like me to help?” You ask, following III’s gase as it trails over to IV. He nods in his direction, smiling at you as you walk away.
IV tenses slightly under your touch, your hand resting on his shoulder. “Everything okay?” You grab a bowl from the cabinet in front of you and place it on the counter to pour the fruit into.
“I'm sorry,” he apologizes quietly, keeping his eyes trained on the cutting board. “Guess I'm just a little jealous.”
“Is there anything I can do to help?” IV sighs, his shoulders softening as he lets some tension roll from his body.
“No, you're absolutely perfect, love.” His eyes finally meet yours, the corners crinkling slightly as he smiles. “I just need to get out of my head, I'm afraid.” He finishes with a chuckle. Your heart skips a beat at the sound of him saying your name, “promise you're still my girl?”
“Of course.” You say, shooting him a flirty smile. “Besides, you still have to take me out on that date.” He chuckles bashfully.
“Yes, I do. I just want to make sure I think of something special first.” He gently nudges your shoulder with his own. “My girl deserves only the best.” Your cheeks grow warm, the two of you sharing a small glance before finishing breakfast in silence.
“All set, sweetheart?” III asks before clearing your dishes from the table.
“I can bring my own plates to the sink; I'm not helpless, you know.” You joke.
III chuckles as he strolls up to you, “And why should my pretty girl have to lift a finger?”
“You're such a flirt.” You tease with a flustered giggle. You sigh, standing to answer your phone in the other room.
“Thank god I got a hold of ya’.” The momentary panic that had bubbled up in your chest at the sight of the contact that flashed across your phone quickly died at the familiar calm tone on the other end of the line.
“Henry, is everything alright?” Henry McMann owned the dairy farm up the road; you had grown close to him over your time running the store.
“Everything's fine. Tree fell and put a damn hole in the barn roof. I was hoping I could convince those boys you have staying with you to come down and help; I could use their pickup truck to clean up the place.” Your eyes narrowed at the request.
“How did you know they were staying here?” You question.
“Whole damn town’s talking about it, kiddo. Hell,” he starts to laugh, “at least three people have called up here this morning asking if we've heard from you.”
“You weren't the one that sent the police here, were you?”
“No, ma’am,” he responds immediately. “Your business is your business. As long as no one's getting hurt, I frankly don't give a damn what you're getting up to.”
“Let me see if I can get Vessel to come talk to you; he'll be able to help.” After some gentle convincing on your end, you managed to get him on the phone. Vessel might be wary of strangers, but despite his icy exterior, he couldn't turn down someone who needed help. After a while, he carefully hung up the phone and wordlessly approached the others.
“Let's get going; we have some work to do.” You weren't exactly sure what Henry could have said to Vessel that made him agree to head out there, but you were happy for whatever it was. Pulling up at the farm always provided this strange sense of home. Seeing Henry waiting on the porch, a dark pipe lazily perched against his lips, was a sight you'd witnessed a hundred times at this point.
“Thanks for showing up.” Henry’s hand claps into Vessel’s with a firm shake.
“Thank you for giving us the opportunity to.” Vessel responds simply. “Why don't you show us this barn.”
The tree hadn't damaged much but couldn't remain across the barn’s roof. “We need to get the sheep to the other building before we do anything.” You caught Vessel silently nodding at III, who quietly slipped from the group. You stood by as the pair formulated a plan, Henry seemingly impressed by Vessel’s initiative to help. You startled at the bleating from behind you, turning to find that III had successfully managed to herd all the sheep together.
Vessel calls your name. " Why don't you take Henry inside so you can both warm up? The more people out here, the more dangerous it'll be.”
“You don't have to tell me twice.” Henry chuckles. “You boys drink coffee? I'll get a pot started.”
“That would be great, Henry, thank you.” Vessel responds before his attention turns to you. “Go on, love. We won't be long.” The sight of his smile was enough to put you at ease. If you were being honest, this whole interaction was going a lot better than you thought it would. You were expecting Vessel to be cold and Henry to be abrasive, but the two seemed to be getting along just fine.
“Oh, wait, they're going to need some chain.” You sent Henry inside, insisting you would be right in. You were just going to jog back over and tell them where to look in the– You skidded to a halt as you rounded the corner. IV stood under the tree, his jacket discarded on the truck hood and his sleeves pushed up to his elbows. His muscles strained under the weight of the colossal trunk; with a groan and one strong push from his legs, he lifted the tree from the barn. You hear him curse before pushing the tree forward, causing it to crash loudly to the ground. You watched him grab onto his hand, droplets of blood dripping from his fingers into the pure white snow. You were immediately consumed by panic seeing him hurt, the inhuman strength you just witnessed being pushed from your mind. You yell for him, rushing forward to see the damage. “Are you okay? Let me look.” The wound wasn't anything terrible, a gash left behind by what you were assuming was a sharp branch, just enough to cause him to bleed. “Come on, let's get you cleaned up.” He wordlessly followed you, allowing you to rush him inside and past Henry to the bathroom. You kicked the door shut behind you, pulling out the first aid kit from under the sink. IV stared back at you with confusion in his eyes, apprehension rolling off him in waves as he waited for you to address what you had just witnessed. He was snapped from his daze by you softly saying his name, “Can I see?”
“Yeah.” He sighs, placing his injured hand in yours. “I'm sorry you have to play nurse,” he chuckles. I wasn't expecting that bark to be so jagged.”
“It's no problem; it's what girlfriends are for.” He breathes out a sigh of relief as you smile at him. The silence still hung thick between you as you carefully cleaned the wound, being as gentle with him as possible. “So, you're strong enough to squat a tree?”
“I guess, on a good day.” He responds in an awkward attempt at a joke.
“Can you… Can all of you–?” You make a vague flexing motion, making IV chuckle.
“To an extent, yeah.” He leans closer to you, a smugness lacing its way into his words. “I would like to point out, however, that I am quite a bit stronger than II, thank you very much.”
You smile coyly at him, “As long as you're strong enough to sweep me up in your arms, that's all I care about.”
“You're acting like that would be much of a problem.” You swallow thickly, your heart racing as your eyes meet his.
“Try to sit still while I get you wrapped up, alright?” He laughs at your abrupt change in subject.
“Yes, love, whatever you need.” He leans in, gently pressing his lips to your forehead
“Is he gonna make it?” Henry asks, unbothered by your usual frantic chaos rushing through his living room, reading yesterday's paper in his recliner.
“Yessir, just a scratch,” IV responds with a chuckle.
“We're going to see what else they need help with; we’ll be back, " you explain before heading out of the house. You step onto the porch, pulling your jacket around you to try to shield yourself from the frigid wind. You squeal as IV effortlessly picks you up and tosses you over his shoulder.
“See? No trouble at all.” He teases before turning you into a more comfortable position, holding you close to his chest. By the time you had gotten back to the barn, Vessel and II had made quick work of chopping up the tree, the back of their truck filled with neatly sliced logs ready to be moved elsewhere.
“There you are! You were gone so long we thought she had to chop your damn hand off.” II chuckles.
“No, he got lucky this time.” You joke, pressing a kiss to his cheek.
“You mind going to check on III? Tell him we're just about done.” You nod, running off towards the other barn. Upon entering, you couldn't help but laugh, watching III attempt to calm the panicked sheep.
“I'm not trying to eat your flock; I'm just trying to help.” He attempts to bargain to stop the bleating.
“Want some company?” You ask with a smile.
“Please.” III chuckles in response.
“I'm surprised they don't like you; Henry’s sheep are usually very sweet.” You muse, patting the top of one of their fluffy heads as you pass.
“I tend to be rather scary to livestock animals… for one reason or another.” He responds vaguely.
“Well, Ves wanted me to tell you they're just about finished.” He slides to the ground with a sigh, patting the empty cushion of hay beside him.
“Good, that gives me a couple minutes to spend with you.” He responds in a flirty tone. You tumble down next to him, allowing him to pull you into his side. “How's your day going, baby?”
“Well, I'm spending it with you, so I can't complain.” You say with a smile.
Your heart raced as he leaned in closer to you. “Glad to hear it.” His gaze drops to your lips, slowly tracing your features before meeting your eyes again with an eye-crinkling smile. “Do you think, um– Do you think I could maybe steal you away for myself tonight..? Only if you want, of course.” The memory of III confessing how he just wants to get you alone bubbled up in the back of your mind, making your stomach flip.
“If you can manage to get me away from the others.” You joke with a giggle.
III releases a sound somewhere between a growl and a chuckle. “Oh, don't worry about that, pretty girl. I'll make sure everyone knows you'll be spending the night with me.”
“Alright, III, bring them back in!” You hear Vessel call from outside. He stands with a groan, offering you his hand to help you up.
“Alright, everyone, let's make this as painless as possible.” He calls over the hoard of bleating sheep. He was surprisingly efficient at the task, rounding up the entire flock into one solid group to lead them from one building to the other. You noticed how he quickly spotted anyone who fell out of line, nudging them back with his knee as he barked to keep moving.
You jump as Vessel places a hand on your waist, “I think that went well, don't you?”
“I think you're right.” You smile softly, leaning into him as you share your hushed conversation. “Thank you for giving Henry a chance; he's pretty much family.”
“I can't say no to you,” he breathes out a chuckle. You asked for my help, and I'll always be there to give it to you… and, I guess, Henry doesn't seem so bad.” He playfully nudges your shoulder.
“You boys hungry? The wife and I would like to make you some dinner to say thanks for helpin’ out.” Vessel looks to the others for a response.
“Well, you know I could always eat.” III chuckles with a shrug.
You hear II sigh, somewhat relieved, “Would either of you like help in the kitchen?”
“No, you've done more than enough. All of you.” Henry confidently walks up to Vessel with a look of determination. “After today, I can tell just how much bullshit those reporters are trying to fill everyone's head with. You're a good group; if you ever need anything, just let me know. Just make sure you take good care of my girl.”
Vessel smiled, genuinely shaking Henry's hand. “Thank you; I really appreciate that. And, trust me,” despite the mask covering his face, you could feel Vessel’s eyes shift to you. I plan to.”
You stood side by side with May, Henry’s wife, in the kitchen, helping her wash vegetables for dinner. “Those boys seem very sweet on you.” She gracefully dances around the subject. Your cheeks grow warm as you struggle to think of a way to explain your four boyfriends. “They're all very handsome; you'll have to come by and tell me about them sometime.” She whispers giddily.
“I’d love to; they're all amazing. I'm happy you finally get to meet them.” You jumped at the loud boom of laughter from the living room, smiling at the sound of the group.
“I think Henry likes them too.” She chuckles.
May insists she can finish up the cooking herself before sending you out into the commotion. You couldn't get over how lovely they all were, genuinely enjoying their time sitting in Henry’s cramped living room. The house was full of laughter, stories, and all the small things you missed about being at Henry's farm. The hours flew by, and before you knew it, you were comfortably tucked into the truck's cab, settling into III’s lap while Vessel drove towards their camp. III wraps his arms around your waist, chin settling against your shoulder. “How's my pretty girl?” He whispers.
“Good.” You reply with a pleased sigh. “Tired.” You follow up with a chuckle.
“Do you still want to spend the night?” A shiver runs down your spine at the feeling of his warm breath against the shell of your ear.
“Of course.”
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Tag List: in comments!
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🌙 Moon Phases 🌙
Agatha Harkness X Fem!Reader
Word Count: 1359
Chapter 41:
Now, with Jen out of the way, only Billy, Agatha, and you were left in the room. It was still unknown what this trial truly was and if the Road had chosen to just speed it up and end it right now.
Technically, once the green witch would have her trial; the road would end. Not everyone had to be trialed. At least it didn't last time.
Now... you were not so sure.
"This can end right here, right now." Agatha suddenly said as she sat down in a meditating position.
"How?"
You frowned, but as you locked eyes with your lover, you could almost read her thoughts. "By helping you next. Helping you find Tommy."
Agatha smiled faintly at your quick thinking and your keen ability in connecting the dots. She then patted the spot in front of her while looking at Billy.
"Come. Sit Down."
Billy did not seem to fully believe her. "What?"
Agatha remained patient. "That's what you want, right? Tommy isn't waiting out there. Not in a body, anyway. That's what got Rio in such a tizzy. She knows you could do it for him."
"Do what?"
"Give him another life! Another spin around the dance floor."
This got Billy interested, and he ended up sitting on top of his folded legs right in front of Agatha, desperation and undying hope glowing within his dark eyes.
"You think I can bring him back?" He questioned. "I don't know how I did it."
It was your turn to smile weakly as you moved to sit behind Billy. "You never do. That's the fun in it. " You folded your legs and leaned on the heels of your feet to keep some height.
Billy looked at you above his shoulder, surprised by your close proximity and the fact that he didn't know what you were planning to do; worried him.
Sure, you did not have any foul means in the end like Agatha, but you were a fully powered up witch with some impressive skills in your arsenal.
"Time to grow up." Agatha said, drawing his attention. "And don't worry about Y/N. She will help since... well, I don't have my powers back yet. "
In the end, Billy obeyed with some hesitation. He gave you one last look, trying to gain courage from your reassuring smile.
"It's okay, Billy. We can do this," you told him and motioned for him to focus back on Agatha. "Close your eyes and remember... remember your last moments with Tommy."
Billy closed his eyes and tried to take a few deep breaths while he explored his messy and divided mind for what he was looking for.
"I don't remember anything." He confessed.
Agatha looked at you, a silent signal to give him a little boost.
You took a deep breath and concentrated, white magic gathering gently in your palms. You were more confident with this, for you had done it in the past.
Using magic to help trigger a memory was a skill Agatha had helped you practise, offering herself as your guinea pig until you got it right.
It scares you at first, fearing you might hurt her, but she had remained fully trusting in you; knowing you would do it.
You closed your eyes and placed your hands close to Billy's temples, not touching his skin. Your white magic came alive and moved in gentle waves towards his head, bypassing any natural barrier they met.
"You were ten. You lived in Westview. You and your brother." Agatha started as you used your magic to jog his memory, a more subtle way of the trick she used on Wanda back the.
Billy was trying trying hard to remember. He didn't register when your magic started to affect him. He didn't have time to focus on it as his memory started to get jogged. "I was... about to fall asleep. I realize I'm breathing at the same time as Tommy. He's not snoring, but... It's heavy enough to listen to. It's nice. That feeling when your body knows it's safe."
Agatha hummed faintly in approval. "Breathe with him. Breathe." She guided him.
His breathing became even, and if you were not focusing on controlling your magic, you would have smiled with pride.
The little silence didn't last long as Billy started to sweat faintly, eyes twitching behind closed eyelids and a could almost feel the intensity of huss sunbconisous travel as it passed through your magic.
"The sound of him. It stops because everything else does." He exclaimed, a single finger faintly twitching.
"It's your mother folding her world. That's okay. It's okay." Agatha reassurd him. "You keep breathing. Even if you can't hear him, you don't have to open your eyes to know how close he is. Breathing together. You breathe for yourself. You breathe for him. You breathe for everything he is. You hold it all inside of you. But it can't stay there. The memories. The feelings. You can't keep them." Billy started to twitch more, his mind fighting him as the experiences and his emotions were becoming too much.
You had to open your eyes and look at Agatha with worry, feeling the inner turmoil within the boy. You felt sorry for him, not able to even imagine the traumatic experience he had been going through.
However, you were also worried that he might break from this meditation and attempt to see how much he was fighting it. If he did, you doubted there would be enough time to start again and help him.
Agatha seemed to share your thoughts, for she chose to act. She placed her hands above yours and forced them to press against his temples.
The sudden move shocked you, but you immediately had to close your eyes and keep control, his emotions and the connection you subtly shared due to your magic threatening to overwhelm you as well.
You took a few deep breaths and tried to focus on Agatha's warm hands, bigger and softer; cupping your own. They were trying to help with whatever remnants of magic she had taken from Alice and whatever her own strong will could do.
And so, the two of you worked together to encourage Billy to help him keep going now that he was so close to the end.
"Keep your eyes closed no matter what. You can't keep him. So where does he go?" Agatha asked, trying to focus as well and gain any kind of connection through your magic as well.
"I don't know!" Billy said in panic.
"Find him a place."
"It's black. There's nothing. He floats. He looks down... He's afraid." His pants grow deeper, louder, and you can feel the beads of sweat forming on his forehead and rolling by the side of his temples; getting stopped by your hands.
At the same time, above you, the lights keep turning off one by one; unevenly.
"But he has you with him now." Agatha reminded Billy.
"I can't find a place."
"Don't give me that. 120 bodies empty out every minute. Find one."
Billy was quiet for a few seconds, and that made you worried, but you did not dare to break your concentration, fearing for the worst.
At last, he started to speak again, and his words brought hope within your chest.
"It's underwater! There's a boy. It's a prank. They tricked him. He's gonna drown. It's a bad place." He informed, in his mind, being able to feel and see everything as if he was suffering them himself.
"It usually is."
"And the people, the family, there's no one to love him! He's got no one!" You caught faintly his hands glowing blue as his magic worked. "Agatha, am I killing this boy so my brother can live?"
Billy screamed as he successesded on the task, the lights above flickering. A crack on the cement appeared between Agatha and him, and in the very next second, he had disappeared from the room; never getting an answer and just leaving you and Agatha behind...
Once again, the two of you at the very end of the road.
Chapter 42
#agatha all along#special treat: two chapters in one day#agatha harkness#agatha spoilers#agatha fanfic#agatha x reader#agatha harkness x reader#moon phases fanfic#marvel#kathryn hahn#aubrey plaza#lesbian#billy maximoff#jennifer kale
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Oh yeeees it's the one where he's like "lots of mouths and teeth, yes so good" 🤣 Still laughing at it. And if I remember correctly you find it like on the island to kill Ghilan'Nain? Tension is high, you are toward the end, and you find that 🤣 (or in his temple which... same thing. Extra tense and stressful and you get him saying that 🤣) "my big dragon" "she wrong but eh. Will concess cause she sad.", "Give my drgaon lots of mouths and teeth. and bigger. Yeah so cool. My dragon is so cool. My dragon is the coolest" (him with Davrin and Emmrich, speaking of their kids. "Mine can fly!", "Mine learnt to talk!", "Mine is big and he'll get lots of mouths and teeths!") and showing a strange form of care for Ghilan'nain.
Some side thoughts -not joking :
like... for me it strips him of some of his prestance, BUT also gives him something more. and even this act of "taking" some mythos out of him thematically works bc well we are told again and again : they are no gods.
It is shown that he cares in a weird way when he gets Ghilan'nain in Hossberg, and here when he, in his weird and a bit condescending way, cares for her mood... There's also the codex fragment with Ghilan'nain, answering to him about Andruil. I don't remember what she says exactly, but it seems she answers him about... a concern? about this. Or just that he spekls of bringing back Andruil (I believe that's what she answers "no let her be" or something like that, for me, is a way of showing a sort of care.).
He also cares about his dragon size, "mine is the biggest! nah!" and seems to share at least a fragment of Ghilan'nain's love for "lots of teeth and mouths". Which if they really are siblings, I thought it was a nice touch to show that one. Both freaks... and both brilliant, even if now blighted.
He is a bit thicker of a cardboard with those elements. More so than when Mythal speak of him having been twisted too, as a spirit.
And I'd rather fight with such an opponent rather than just a cardboard villain that is just vile. Elgar'Nan has a bit of depth, even in his talk with Solas, it is interesting how he reacts. It isn't just pure villain mocking his opponent. Or at least didn't feel like it. speaking of this talk the subject of the other evanuris also for me there was something in how Elgar'nan reacrs and speaks, of that, of the past, etc. Does he only wants to bring his empire back for the sake of power and his ego as a god, like a pure villain... or bc he misses it and misses the other evanuris too? Maybe I'm reaching with this one.
It also is this dialogue bringing how Elgar'nan was brilliant too. and maybe it's just me but I did feel something at the mention of his descent and the dulling of his mind with the blight. Of the loss of this core element of him, and the brillance of him -representation of the brillance of the eleves, also lost?-. He lost his empire, his fellow gods and himself. Like... even what made him a good opponent, a good bad guy, is lost now. He lost himself first when he got twisted as a spirit, thrn became a god/slaver, where he still had lesst was a good bad guy apparently and would-be-wrong-God. But now he doesn't even have that. What a fall eh? for a "risen god".
Don't know if this passage is clear sorry. Writing not confusing and clear literary analyzes is hard enough in my language (my big issue I had during my bachelor degree in literature. Managing to write my thoughts clearly and with structure) so in english x).
Although why having a dulled mind would make him speak the common tongue? shouldn't it be rhe reverse and he's speak his native tongue only? (aka elven) isn't common a learnt secondary language for them?
Yet again : just a tad more development and scenes with him to flesh him not only as this very threatening scary guy but also as a character, as in more of a person, that would have been nice. Helped with the build up too.
elgar'nan, all-father, the eldest of the sun, he who overthrew his father, god of sun and vengeance: NOPE MY DRAGON WAS DEFINITELY BIGGER, HE SHRUNK IN THE WASH
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"youre gonna get lipstick all over me" with lus & dew mayyybeee??
I had a lot of thoughts about this one and it could have gone a million different ways, but I'm very happy with how it turned out.
prompt from this list.
divider by @ghuleh-recs <3
Dew's tucked into the corner of one of the loveseats in the den commons, eyes half lidded as he watches some movie he's seen a hundred times but couldn't care to name. Better than silence, and it feels like every one of his packmates have disappeared.
He's okay with silence, but the loneliness he can't stand. Dew knows in the very core of his heart that he's just being dramatic, half of his packmates are doing their assigned duties around the Abbey on the off season from touring. The other half are still asleep even though it's well past noon, and Dew's not going to barge into anyone's room and demand they pay attention to him like a particularly stubborn orange cat.
So he snuggles into the corner of the couch, a throw pillow held in his arms as he half-watches the tv. The autumn chill is starting to creep into the halls of the Abbey, but it's still too early for the central heating to be turned on. Dew sighs, reaching into his infernal magick to crank up his body temperature a few degrees, shifting until he's a little more comfortable.
The moment he's settled, a floorboard creaks in the hallway, and Dew perks up, turning to face the doorway. "Morning, lamb."
Cumulus chirps happily as she sees him, cheeks dimpling when she smiles wide. "Hi, junebug!" she trills, eyeing the empty seat next to him. "You doing anything important?"
He shrugs, patting the couch cushion with the tip of his tail. Cumulus is quick to settle next to him, resting her head on his shoulder with a soft coo. He wraps an arm around her side, pulling her a little closer, and she happily nuzzles into his warmth. "Didn't know you liked this movie," she hums.
"Wouldn't say liked," Dew shrugs, careful not to disturb her. "More like I don't mind it," he admits, turning to nose at her hair, breathing in her coconut-sweet shampoo. "I wouldn't mind doing something else. Just killing time."
"You wanna gimme a kiss?" Cumulus asks teasingly. She cranes her neck to peer up at him, cocking her head. Dew turns to meet her icy blue gaze, lips quirking up with a soft smile. His brow furrows as his eyes drop to her lips.
It isn't strange to see Cumulus wearing makeup, but the brick red lipstick she's put on isn't one she typically wears. She wears reds, but more often than not she prefers mauvy colors, things a little on the cooler side than the lipstick she's got on. It's not like the new color looks bad on her though, quite the opposite.
Dew raises an eyebrow. "Oh, I see," Dew laughs with a huff of breath. "You don't want a kiss, you want a smudge tester."
Cumulus arches an elegant brow. "Two things can be true at once, junebug," she says, a particularly wicked grin spreading across her face as she bats her lashes. "Am I not allowed to want to kiss my favorite fire ghoul?"
"Mmm, you're gonna get lipstick all over me," Dew shakes his head playfully, hand coming up to cup her cheek. "Fine, lamb. Gimme a kiss."
Her eyes flash, and she surges up to kiss him. Dew feels the almost waxy slide of the lipstick against his own lips, even as he melts into the kiss. It's not an unpleasant sensation despite the way the taste of the makeup covers her own taste.
Dew melts into it, fingers sliding into her curls just to hold as their lips move together. Cumulus hums, licking at the seam of his mouth, and he eagerly gives her access. There it is, the taste of her mouth, and Dew groans into her kiss.
Her arms loop around his neck, shifting on the loveseat until they're facing each other, Cumulus straddling his thigh. Getting more comfortable as one kiss turns to two, three, too many to count. They pull apart to breathe, or more really, for Dew to breathe, their foreheads pressed together as they share air. The movie still plays on the tv, all but forgotten.
"Hi, junie," Cumulus giggles, cheeks dimpled, as she presses another kiss to the corner of his mouth.
"Hi, Cue," Dew says, shivering as she trails kisses from his mouth to his jaw, nipping little things that worry at his pale gray skin. His eyes flutter shut, head tipping back to give her more access.
She eagerly takes advantage of it, trailing soft, sucking kisses from his jaw to the sensitive spot just under his ear. Dew's tail curls around one of her thighs, groaning low in his throat as she sucks and nips at the spot. Spindly fingers tighten in her hair, not pulling or pushing, just desperate for something to hold. His other hand finds her waist, curls into the soft fabric of her shirt.
"Shit, yeah, there," he whispers, eyes shut. He sinks a fang into his bottom lip, the faintest taste of iron mixing with the lipstick she's left on him.
Eventually, Cumulus pulls back, her tail flicking behind her and grinning like the cat that got the cream. Dew stares at her, because how couldn't he? Deep red lipstick smeared and smudged over plump lips, cheeks rosy and flushed, eyes bright.
Dew trills, unable to help himself from darting forward and pressing a kiss to the apple of her cheek. It leaves a distinct mark of his lips in that same dark shade as he pulls back.
He can only imagine what he looks like. Dew presses his lips together, feels the slide of the lipstick on them, the smears of it across his face and down his throat.
Cumulus licks her lips as she appraises him, eyes glancing over his face and throat. "Hmm. This one's definitely more your color."
#may or may not have spent more time thinking about what color lipstick cumulus would wear to smudge on dew than i did writing this#mmmm dew and cumulus with smudged lipstick#dot's writing#kiss requests#the band ghost#the band ghost fanfiction#dewdrop ghoul#cumulus ghoulette#dew/cumulus
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Thinking about Aether and Dew baby...
This follows Calida's timeline!
CW - Pregnancy, Mentions of past Traumatic Pregnancy (but this is a fluff post!)
It's been a good few years, now. Calida now a rambunctious teenager, the ministry settled down while there's no tours for a good while. It's comfortable! The topic comes up one night, Dew settled in the bed with Aether on their day off together;
"Firefly?"
"Hm?"
"Promise you won't bite me if I ask something?" An eyebrow raise but Dew promises. "How would you feel about another baby?"
"Another?" Dewdrop sits up a little, resting more on the headboard as he grimaces some. "I dunno, Aeth... Calida's was rough as is. I had her early, and all the complications, and just the mental side of it? I'm not sure... Why?"
"Just been thinking, that's all. Maybe something in the air, all the babies I've been helping deliver with the siblings. I dunno either. Just thought, maybe, it would be nice to have tiny feet running through the den again."
Dewdrop just chews his lip and nods, eventually going into silence before going to the bathroom suddenly. Closes the door and stares at himself in the mirror for a bit, so many thoughts racing. He doesn't realize how long it's been until Aether knocks to check on him, Dew opening the door and looking up, holding his breath.
"Okay."
"Okay, what?"
"Let's have another. But on my conditions."
"What- Oh, okay! What's your conditions?" Aether can't help his tail wagging.
"We're gonna go talk to my therapist and double, triple, fucking quad check that this isn't just a breeding thing for you... A-and I only want you, or Phil, or- or just that really nice midwife you introduced me to at the Halloween party, Alexa... If... If I get pregnant again. No one else."
Aether just nods, taking Dewdrop's hand, leading him back to bed. "Those are all reasonable. I can call for an appointment in the morning. Sound fair?"
"Yeah... Sounds fair."
It's about two months worth of sessions, both privately and together, making sure that YES. They want this! Dew is mentally ready for this again, Aether isn't in some kink phase, etc. They even talk to Calida who's more than excited about a little sibling! Dewy gets off his testosterone and starts taking supplements, and circles his first heat for them to start trying. They keep everything quiet for a while, and even more months of failed attempts to conceive. It's about month four when Dew wakes Aether up, sitting on his lap with two positive pregnancy tests.
They're SO fucking excited but keep their expectations mellow. Dewdrop's health has much changed since Calida, plus they don't know if the egg will fully stay intact. Still, it is exciting for Aether to smell how fruity Dewdrop is. Constantly scenting him to see if there's any changes but also to cover the smell around the others. Every night Aether has his eyes full of stars and a gentle hand on Dew's stomach, whispering to Dewy what he sees, how small it is, but still so full of fluids and cells.
Two months, they agree to tell the others. It goes as they expect, excitement and extra affection, a ghoul pile that even Copia makes time to join.
"Have you started thinking about names or anything like that?" Sunny is laying her head on Dew's thigh, smiling SO wide.
"No, not just yet. Things can still change so we're waiting at least until near the end of the second trimester."
"Makes sense," Swiss chimes in. "Does Calida know?"
Aether is the one to laugh, leaning over. "That girl scared the birds away from how excited she got. She was the first to know."
Now, Dewdrop wouldn't trade Calida for the world. But he wishes he had this gentleness when he was expecting her. The kindness and a huge pack so that he doesn't have to strain and try to keep up, that he knew early, how accommodating everything's been. There's times he'll just hold his stomach and look in the mirror, so much deja vu of when he did it in hotel bathrooms while on tour. Speaking to Calida and telling her she was going to be the light of his life, and now he's doing it again. Just another piece for a puzzle he didn't know wasn't completed yet.
He's put on bed rest once more, too many high risks going on, and he starts eventually experiencing... Symptoms.
"What do you mean they're weird?"
"They're just fucking weird, Aether! Just, okay, tickle me."
He blinks. "You hate being tickled."
"I know! Just do it!"
He shrugs and does a little wiggle of his fingers before attacking Dew's sides and armpits. Listening to him squeal and laugh, grimacing and eventually - the TV turns on. Aether is staring at it while Dew catches his breath.
"See? Weird fucking shit! If I sneeze the lights turn on and off, when I get headaches my phone's battery dies, and like... It's so strange!"
Aether whistles a little, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh we're so having a quint."
"Huh?"
Aether looks him dead in the eyes, but a big goofy smile. "You're having magick surges. Little bit is reacting to you, and quintessence is a hell of a thing. Starts while still in the womb, my mother in the pit had almost the same things happening. Less technology and more of like, levitation. We're having a quint!"
Dew blinks before breaking into cries. "Woah, woah! What's wrong, my love?"
"I'm gonna look like a fucking watermelon you ass-wipe!" Hitting him softly but still crying.
Poor thing isn't even six months yet, but he looks like he's eight! Mumbling about his feet hurting, his legs more swollen than normal, cravings that are insanity to even be thought of. It's when he's in the nursery, tying ribbons on the crib when he gasps at a feeling, holding his stomach... It happens again.
He doesn't even get the full trill out before Cumulus and Mountain are RAMMING into that door.
"What's wrong?!"
But, he's smiling, beckoning them over. Takes both of their hands and puts it on his bump, shushing them every time they try to ask. There's a kick and their eyes go wide, Dew just as much. It's much softer than normal kicks, but that's to be expected from the egg sack still around them.
Then, finally, a gender reveal. Expecting a tiny little girl, Aether excited as he's always been a girl dad, adjusting some of the things in the nursery to match her.
"Teddy."
"Hm?"
Dew is playing with a tiny onesie, keeping his eyes locked on it. "What do you think of the name Starshine?"
"Starshine?"
"Yeah," his thumb going over the embroidered star on the onesie. "For our daughter."
Aether hums, thinking it over a little before he nods. "Yeah... Yeah, I like that."
He makes it to full term, after an agonizing day and a half of his water being broken and no dilation. Clutching to Aether and Mountain, Alexa between his knees to help course their daughter out. Mountain's fur is sticking up from the amount of electricity from Dew holding him, then with how hot he is. There's a bit of a power surge at the final push before the lights come back. Dewdrop sobbing as he dead weights against the two, staring at the ceiling but ears completely focused on Starshine's mad cries as she's cut from the sack.
Good god they though Mountain was furry? That poor girl is gonna need haircuts WEEKLY. Aether and Dew laughing a bit as they're holding this purple blob of fur, some soft white on her belly and in her ears. Hair blonde, just like Dewdrop's.
Mountain congratulating them and helping Alexa clean up a little while the new parents again bask in the afterglow with their new daughter :3
#the band ghost#ghost band#rabrev writing#ghoul kits#dewdrop ghoul#aether ghoul#dewther#cw pregnancy
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Hi, big fan here. I love your Laia series so much and am planning on checking out your cool uncle series it looks just as adorable. But I have a question
What would Laia's reaction to meeting Ruin, Nexus, and Dark Sun would be?
I have had that thought bouncing around in my head for several days now and I NEED to know.
Also, when does Laia enter their lives in your au? Is it after or before Nexus' turn to the dark side and death?
Hi, thank you!
She would appear after Nexus and every other future villain of Sun and Moon Show. It would be like Sun fighting and surviving and finally getting his girlfriend, lol.
But their new "villain" would be the humans, fighting for their rights, maybe? Nothing big. Fazbear treats them ok, as long the animatronics make money for them, but they don't want the title "property" over their heads.
If she was there when those three were still around. Of course, she would be very protective of the family. But she would also try to understand the villains. She wouldn't try to kill until it was really the last resort.
Dark Sun: until now he is a mystery to her but doesn't trust him.
Ruin:...throws 5000 slippers at him.
Nexus: this is going to be a long one, and my goal is a happy end. I try to keep it short.
Laia would be confused as to why Nexus became like that and would do what she is good at, watch movies, and critique them. She did that for years in the shop in her free time. So she watches the videos to see what went wrong. Having a new perspective on the situation.
She would see that the family isn't fully innocent. Their relationship with Nexus was unhealthy from the beginning and became worse with time and the death of Solar was the breaking point.
They did treat him like a nice version of Moon, not a completely different individual. I know it was unintended because of the same face, voice, and name. They should have seen what they were doing, giving him time, helping him find his own personality, altering his appearance, and giving him a new name if he wished. Nexus was talking about his issues, and they should have listened but they were dismissive. Grief can do a lot of damage.
But also Nexus should have just left, he had the knowledge and the resources. He could have just left this toxic relationship, it wasn't healthy to stay because the others didn't change their ways of how they treated him. If he had left they would have gotten a breather and kept the contact minimal until they figure themselves out.
And she would be super mad at Monty because they could have brought back old Moon any time.
Nexus became so resentful he didn't know what to do with those feelings, he didn't know why it became like that because he had new excuses every time they met, why he became evil. He chooses to use a power to feel strong and be in control but is killing him slowly.
This would remind her of one of her previous owners. Who lost control of the business and started drinking and doing other substances, which were harming them. In the end, they lost all.
She would find a way to be with Nexus alone, maybe with the help of Solar or Monty, because she knows he can't be in a room with any of his ex-friends and family without fighting. She would be scared but she knew the chance of being killed by Nexus would be minimal because every chance he got to kill, he would hesitate and keep talking and talking.
So she does that, talk. She would be someone new to talk to, someone who didn't have a past with him or Moon. Also, she understands him at some points, she wasn't her own person for a long time from day one, and she didn't have control until someone helped her.
He would threaten to kill her and her response would be: "And I could kick you in the bolts, yet here we are."
Or he would accuse her of trying to play the therapist. Her response: I know Jack sh*t about therapy. Do you want to talk or not?
If he stayed, she would say she saw how his ex-family and friends have been treating him, that it wasn't healthy from the beginning. And can't believe how fast they gave up on him, their own brother! Even Killcode who actually killed people and made their lives hell was forgiven and left alone.
She would ask him what he would have done on the first day he was "born", what person he would have liked to be, and what his life could have looked like, if he wasn't treated as the "new, nice Moon".
Maybe he would tell her. maybe not. But if he does, she would ask him, what is stopping him from living that life right now? He wants control? Go leave, start somewhere fresh, a new dimension, and go No-contact with everyone. She would tell everyone to go No-contact as well.
Yes, he left but he keeps coming back, harassing and threatening his ex-friends and family, which is not truly leaving, it's not being in control. He lets the resentment that was created by that toxic relationship control him and be bound to them and even if he kills them all, he wouldn't get that control back. Their death would not be him leaving them but them leaving him and he would never be able to change that, carry this for the rest of his life.
And those powers don't make anything better, they just make him feel like he is in control but he actually isn't. It's slowly killing him like a drug and not giving him what he wants.
He might say, that he doesn't care what happens to him. She would call him out, if he truly doesn't care about himself then he would still play the role of the "new, nice Moon" and not fight. Do what you couldn't back then, leave!
He might say, you can't tell me what to do. Laia would say, she doesn't, she just is giving advice to a person who is hurting. He can take it or not, it's his choice. But the next time she sees him and starts his crap again, she would fight him. And don't think the family would go unpunished. She would not go on eggshells and have a serious word with them and make sure they'll make up for him one day.
Now here it would be Nexus' choice of what to do.
I don't write fanfiction only scripts, lol. Usually, I would think and write on my stories for weeks until it's fleshed out and make sense. But this is just an idea of how it could go with Nexus. I hope it wasn't too much.
Part2
#answered ask#Nexus#Laia Cotton#fanfiction? maybe? kinda?#I just wanted a happy end#I'm not good at it#I'm used to do calm cute relaxing stories#sun and moon show
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Dearest ANON,
"No, I'm not staying long"-- then Tommy practically moved in. Tommy &/or Buck decorated Buck's loft, making it feel cozy and lived in. His loft felt sterile with his other exes. Tommy had pajamas at Buck's loft, knew the way around his kitchen, & spent so much time at Buck's loft that he knew the parking situation outside. All canon. No tingling needed.
"You don't think about jumping ship"-- That was about Buck leaving the 118. WTF? It's not complicated.
Basketball tickets-- It's an anniversary gift. What made Tommy go to Buck's loft and apologize for getting between him and Eddie, which lead to flirting and their first kiss? BASKETBALL. It's romantic.
Eddie being a part of every Bucktommy scene-- Unfortunately, we didn't get very many BT scenes. He's friends with Tommy, and he's Buck's bff and coworker, so obviously, he's going to come up. We'll get more alone time between Buck and Tommy when Lou comes back.
Tommy not interacting with anyone besides Buck and Eddie-- you're right about that. It was weird. Why did TM feel he needed a past 118 guy to be Buck's first? He wanted Tommy to fit into Buck's world, so why were there no scenes between Tommy and the 118 OGs? That's another reason why I feel BT isn't over. Buck inviting Tommy to Chimney's wedding isn't a big enough reason to bring Tommy back after 5 seasons, so I feel there's more story to tell coming up.
Asking Tommy to move in prematurely--Buck asked Taylor to move in out of guilt and to "trap" her so she couldn't leave him. He asked Tommy to move in because he's comfortable with him. Buck is impulsive. He's matured a lot, but he still maims his BFF over a cute boy. Tommy is his opposite. Tommy will keep Buck more grounded (not moving in right away), and Buck makes Tommy's life more interesting. (Making Tommy dress up for a eulogy for a dead cowboy that gave Buck boils, maybe) Perfect couple imo.
Green break up shirt-- Oliver Stark looks good in green. Does he only wear green during break ups, or is it just a coincidence? I don't have every Buck outfit memorized, so please share with the class.
911 doesn't know their timeline, characters' ages, and natural disasters are all perfectly cleaned up at the next episode, but they plan shirt colors depending on a characters relationship status? You're giving the show way too much credit. But anything for Buddie canon, right?
Madney outfit color during pregnancy announcements--again JLH probably has colors that look better on her than others. And were the pregnancy announcement colors ONLY used for that reason?
Predicting a coma plot--it's 9-1-1. Someone is always in a coma. And wasn't that the episode OS was proud of and the buddies' review bombed it because they are evil? Yikes.
You are not seeing what the creators are putting down. After 7 seasons, you're still expecting a couple that will never happen, and your group is making everyone miserable because you are. The GA isn't stupid. They don't over analyze the fun out of everything. They take everything at face value and actually see what the creators are putting down. They saw a beautiful relationship developing before their eyes, and that rug was painfully pulled out from under them. Buddies are wrong about buddie, about LFJ/Tommy being hated by the viewers, and Bucktommy not having a healthy relationship. Hopefully, the creators will see how wonderful Buck and Tommy are together, and buddies can be wrong about "Bucktommy bones", too.
You said that the break up came out of nowhere so let me help you out:
“No, I’m not staying for long.” - Tommy in the scene of their first kiss “You don’t think about jumping ship, are you?” - Eddie to Buck when he visited Tommy Tommy giving Buck basketball tickets even though Buck hates basketball Eddie being either there or mentioned in almost every Bucktommy scene Tommy not interacting with anyone except Buck and Eddie in season 8 Buck asking Tommy to move in, showing that he didn’t really grew when it comes to relationships and still jumps head first instead of letting himself ease into it
And before you come at me for reading too much into things, I will just like to state, that we were right about the break up green. (Buck wearing green in his break ups with Ali, Taylor and now Tommy, and Eddie wearing green in the break up with Ana.)
911 doesn’t know their timeline, their characters’ ages and how Eddie’s house looks, but not everything is like that. The break up green is only one example. Madney wears the same colors during both of the pregnancy announcements. During season 6 fandom managed to predict the coma plot, from a glimpse of what Buck was wearing. You might think that we are delusional, but we are not. We see what the creators are putting down.
And maybe those are not the things that GA would pick up on, but you’re not GA and I believe that a lot of of people also saw the lack of chemistry between Bucktommy. I’m not saying everyone thought that, because obviously everyone can have a different opinion on the mater. I just think that the break up didn’t came out of left field at all.
Oh. You "see what the creators are putting down?"
Okay.
Please tell me... where is your fanon ship??
Where was your jealous Eddie?
Where is your "trapped buddie" scene?
How are your magnets doing?
Why were you so shocked about the Kim fiasco?
Why have you all preached that Buck has been ooc since 7.04?
You know... I could also "see what the creators are putting down" when I have someone who saw the episode early thus leaking the plot.
The fact that the only people who "saw what the creators were putting down" are buddie shippers??
That's all I need to know.
#911 abc fandom#I'm so sick of buddies shit#let us mourn in peace#temporarily of course#Tommy is coming back#words#apparently I had thoughts
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Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 1 part 3
(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])
(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4])
so babe, hear me out. we could adopt him. just spitballing here (agatha, probably)
bwahhaha fantasy!billy and his death stare, meanwhile real billy is such a polite baby
if you look closely you can tell Joe Locke is fighting for his life holding down laughter in a lot of his scenes with Katrhyn. he has nerves of steel, couldn't be me
(also, billy telling her she has neither the respect of her peers NOR a fulfilling home life? harsh, but fair.) (at least her wife is trying to fix the home life part)
honey, don't go around kicking grumpy little twinks now! perfectly in character. despite her chaotic exterior, rio is a very lawful person. she is literally the laws of nature!
the Ballad plays faintly in the background when Billy mentions the Road
I love when good actors have to pretend to be bad actors. and I also find it interesting that Agatha cast herself as a good guy. does it make her feel better about herself? is she telling herself that all the atrocities were justified, that it was only survival instinct? (like rio said, she's only lying to herself)
I had to look up the painting, it's Macbeth meeting the three witches (thank you Reddit!) So Macbeth (Agatha) and Banquo (Billy) meeting Lilia, Jen and Alice?
how did I miss Billy sitting on the chair Rio was just on?! amazing lens choices here too
Wanda's death makes her cry again. I honestly, honestly believe she feels awful about what she did to her. but guilt will never be enough to redeem her - especially because she tends to run away from it.
Wanda's magic was so strong that it took at least four things to undo the spell: Wanda dying, Rio's intervention, Billy's counterspell, and Agatha's willpower. It was a group effort, Agatha could have never done it alone. And despite her scorched earth tactics, there are still two people in her life, rio and billy, willing to help out in her hour of need
it's naughty tiiiime
I still really love the curls
can I say iconique?
it's like someone's about to die at the end of this
bwahahahahaah and oh my GAWD all the case files and boxes, where did she GET that stuff, did she rob a precint, did she make them with the power of arts and crafts
you know what I think? being naked here is a power move. she is being very over the top because she's really uncomfortable, she just woke up and she's in those moments when you stop dreaming and have to relearn what's real and what isn't. she is someone used to calculate and scheme and micromanage every aspect of her life and she is not in control right now. what does Agatha do to reclaim control? she puts on a show. to her, being under the spell was way more like being naked, her insecurities and emotions and past were out in the open for everyone to see. being physically naked could never be nearly as distressing, and this is a nakedness she chose, because it tells people nothing about herself, nothing of what she wants to keep secret and protected. she's got the upper hand, not the other way round
you are all cowards and sheep for not saying Wanda's name, says the lady who would rather hide under a dozen magic layers than face her problems
that is so nice that they brought her groceries actually??? and lol those are the flowers in Agatha's crime scene pictures
that little girl is having a great time
FUCK CLOTHES BUT FUCK THESE CLOTHES SPECIFICALLY!!!!
(wait am I allowed to post butt cheeks? what are the rules right now?)
she turns quiet and emo as soon as she's alone
why doesn't she just - kiss the wiwwle bunny. bury her nose in that big fluffly head. even villains need a cuddle sometimes.
sure, bring señor scratchy. so menacing. that'll show them.
poor boy. trapped in a closet with ralph's bluray collection
aaand I really want to get to the next scene so I'll start on it right away, hopefully it'll be ready later tonight
go to part 4
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Bite-Sized (14) - A BG3 G/t Fanfic
This contains g/t (giant/tiny content) so if that isn't your thing, then I suggest you stop reading. Thank you!
Read on Ao3
Chapter 1 | Previous chapter| Series master list
Summary: Ria awakes the following morning from the events of the tiefling party to a horrendous hangover and finds herself in Astarion's tent.
Pairing: Astarion x f!borrower!oc (Tav/oc) (slow-burn)
Warnings: Suggestive, mild nudity, course language, mentions of slavery/abuse (Astarion's past/backstory).
Word count: 4.4k
Taglist: @alexcutecolly @rose7420 @empressxmachina @taters169 @feral-sins @smolgloves @smolkuriboh27 (if you want to be removed or added to the taglist, feel free to let me know!)
A pounding, almost bludgeoning pain resonated through Ria’s skull as she struggled to open her heavy eyelids. Immediately she clutched her head, feeling every single pulse as if someone was swinging a hammer at her skull. Despite the vibrating pain in her head, her body was surprisingly comfortable. This certainly felt nothing like her old tent. The surface she was lying on was incredibly soft and plush, her tiny body sinking into the luscious fabric as if she was floating on a fluffy cloud. A familiar scent quickly graced her nostrils and she breathed it in deeply. Sunny notes of citrus flooded her senses, coupled with a slight alcoholic overtone that piqued her interest.
Wait…is that…brandy? No…that’s…that’s…
Her eyelids suddenly shot open once she realised where she was, the remnants of sleep now completely gone as she turned her head over to her side. Her entire body froze over when her gaze fell on the slumbering giant that was lying directly next to her.
It was Astarion.
Her heart almost threatened to leap out of her throat once she realised her predicament. She was lying on a pillow with Astarion’s handkerchief draped over her body to act as some kind of blanket, and Astarion himself was lying right next to her. She wasn’t lying on the same pillow as him, but this was still far too close for comfort. Frantically she attempted to recall the events of last night, wondering what had she done to end up sharing his tent of all people.
What happened last night? Did…did Astarion and I…?
Red blossomed across her pale face as the very thought plagued through her mind. No, there was no possible way that anything could’ve happened between her and Astarion. But, despite her brain trying to think logically, another part of her mind began to wander elsewhere. Her gaze fell onto the pale elf’s lips and her heart began to flutter against her chest. She remembered the events of yesterday prior to the party just fine, and now that she was staring at his lips, the memory of falling in the giant cup and being pressed against his mouth flashed through her mind. Her entire body had been pushed against his lips – practically kissing her.
No, stop it! It was not a kiss! I just…fell onto his lips. That’s how gravity works.
She remembered how soft his lips had been. Her body pressed against his mouth, moments before she had fallen inside. He had been so very gentle with her, even after she had stabbed his tongue repeatedly.
Stop this right now!
Ria clasped her hands over her burning face and refused to look at the sleeping vampire. She was horrified with herself that she was having such indecent thoughts about the elf of all people. Her head was still pounding relentlessly, constantly reminding her that she had consumed so much alcohol that she still couldn’t properly remember the events of the tiefling party from last night. What had happened? She remembered speaking to Shadowheart who had kindly offered her some wine. Not long after the cleric had left, Astarion had found her. After that everything became hazy.
I need to leave. Now.
Very tentatively she slipped down the pillow until her feet hit the hard floor below. Perhaps if she was quiet enough, she could sneak out of the tent before Astarion woke up from his trance. Slowly but surely, she inched closer towards the mouth of the tent, wincing every so often as her brain reeled from the effects of her drinking from last night. Gritting her teeth, she kept on pushing forward.
Just keep on going…
“Leaving so soon? Don’t I at least get a good morning?”
The borrower’s entire body froze over as if she had been blasted with a ray of frost. Her heart almost burst out of her chest as she slowly turned her head around to look up at the smirking giant elf. Her breath hitched as she saw that he had rolled over onto his side, one hand holding his face as he leaned against his pillow, the laces of his ruffled shirt had become loose and was revealing more of his chest than what she was used to.
“My fangs are up here, darling,” Astarion’s voice chimed from above, startling Ria back to her senses.
If her face wasn’t completely red before, it certainly was now and she frantically fixed her eyes onto the floor of the tent. She couldn’t believe that Astarion had just called her out for staring and embarrassment threatened to smother her completely.
“W-what am I doing here?” she managed to choke out, her voice wavering.
“Well, after the events of last night, it made perfect sense for you to share my tent.” A very smug grin curled at the corners of his lips. “You don’t remember?”
Her heart spasmed against her ribcage. What was he implying? What had happened last night?
“N-no,” she stammered, swallowing thickly. “I don’t remember. All I remember is drinking some wine, you offered me some, and…that’s it.”
Astarion’s massive frame suddenly shifted, now looming over her even closer than before, the ground trembling from his large movements. If this had been a few weeks ago, the sight of Astarion hovering above her would’ve sent her running. But right now, it was almost as if someone had glued her to the ground as she gazed up at his giant form.
“I’m not surprised you don’t remember after all that wine you drank last night,” he hummed, wetting his lips. “I’ve never seen someone so small consume so much alcohol before.”
The rumblings from Astarion’s voice vibrated through the air and she winced as a stab of pain flared in her skull.
“I’m certainly paying for it now,” she grumbled, clutching the side of her head. “Remind me never to drink that much again.”
“Note taken,” he replied.
Swallowing a lump in her throat, she steadied her gaze back at the giant vampire.
“So…um…what happened last night? Why am I here?”
“Oh, you should see the look on your face,” Astarion purred, completely ignoring her question. “It is delicious. Are you worried that events may have…transpired between us?”
Her face burned as Astarion voiced her thoughts. And what made it worse was the feeling of butterflies swarming in her stomach that refused to leave. There was no way that she should be feeling like this about the pale elf, especially considering everything that had happened, but she couldn’t stop thinking about how he had saved her life yesterday. It certainly didn’t help that he was very attractive–
Shut up! Shut up! Stop it right now!
“Oh darling, while it is adorable watching you act so flustered, I won’t hold you in suspense any longer,” he said, a devilish smirk curling at the corners of his mouth. “You can rest assured that nothing happened between us. Besides, can you imagine it? Ugh. No. You’re a borrower after all.”
Astarion’s words shouldn’t have hurt her, but for whatever reason, they did. Not that long ago she was spitting curse words at him, but now, she felt a part of her heart crumble upon hearing his response. If anything, she should’ve been relieved to hear his answer, but she wasn’t at all.
“Y-yeah, right,” she answered stiffly, trying to hide her real emotions. “And you’re a vampire. Of course nothing would happen. Besides, how would it work? I’m so…small.”
“Precisely, darling,” Astarion said. “Anyways, the real reason why you’re here is because some careless tiefling crushed your tent underfoot. I couldn’t just let you sleep out in the open by yourself.”
Ria’s eyes widened in shock upon hearing his response.
“W-wait, nobody put my tent away during the party?” she gaped, a bit horrified that if she hadn’t been with Astarion last night she would’ve been crushed in her sleep.
Astarion shrugged casually, as if he couldn’t care less. “Aren’t you happy that you were with me last night? Gods forbid what would’ve happened to you if you had stayed in your tent during the party.”
Ria swallowed thickly, a shiver running down her spine as she tried not to think too much about it. She was upset that nobody had bothered to put away her tent. Despite how kind and accommodating everyone had been to her since she had joined the group, it shocked her that nobody had thought about her small tent. She didn’t want to think about where she would be sleeping once nightfall came again now that the tent was destroyed. Exhaling deeply, she walked towards the entrance of Astarion’s tent.
“Oh, you don’t want to keep me company?” Astarion’s voice rumbled from above.
“I need to get out of here,” she answered quickly. “And I desperately need a decent bath, especially after what I went through yesterday. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to ask Shadowheart if I can borrow some of her soap.”
Ria didn’t hear a word from the pale elf as she exited his tent and her eyes squinted as the morning rays of sunlight shone down on her tiny frame. It was still somewhat early, not everyone had risen yet. She assumed most of them were feeling the effects from the party last night. As if to remind her, a searing pain flared in her skull as she walked towards Shadowheart’s tent.
Perhaps I can ask Shadowheart to remove this hangover for me with her magic while I’m at it.
As she neared the cleric’s tent, she paused as she noticed the half-elf emerge from the tent with a very happy expression painted across her features. It seemed as if Shadowheart had a very good night. The half-elf’s gaze quickly fell on the borrower and her smile deepened upon seeing her.
“Shar’s blessing to you, Ria.”
Ria was somewhat perplexed by the mention of Shar – she had briefly heard Shadowheart mention the name a few times, but she couldn’t recall exactly what it meant. Perhaps she would have to ask the cleric later when she wasn’t feeling so horribly hungover.
“Good morning,” she replied thickly, wincing as more pain pierced through her skull. “Did you have fun last night?”
Shadowheart’s face practically lit up upon hearing the borrower’s question. “Oh, it was wonderful. Karlach and I basically talked the entire night away, since, well, we couldn’t exactly touch each other. She mentioned that perhaps we could find some temporary ways to cool her down, so maybe I’ll be able to steal a kiss from her very soon. How was your night?”
Ria could only offer the cleric a very weak smile as her head continued to pound violently against her skull. She was happy for Shadowheart and Karlach, but she couldn’t express her full support when her head felt as if it wanted to explode.
“To be perfectly honest, I’m terribly hungover,” she murmured, her eyebrows knitting together. “I can barely remember what happened last night.”
Shadowheart’s eyes widened in concern, and the cleric immediately kneeled so that she wasn’t towering over the borrower anymore.
“Oh, that simply won’t do,” the cleric said, a green aura beginning to radiate from her hands. “Just hold still for a moment, I’ll rectify that in a second.”
Ria froze in place as Shadowheart’s index finger softly touched her forehead, magic coursing through her body as the throbbing pain in her skull gradually faded until it was completely gone.
Shadowheart retracted her finger, smiling softly at Ria.
“How do you feel now?”
“Much better, thank you.” She heaved a deep sigh of relief, thankful that the pounding feeling in her brain was gone.
“Anytime,” Shadowheart replied softly.
“I do have another favour to ask, though,” Ria quickly added. “I am in desperate need of a good bath; do you have any soap that you can spare?”
“Oh, absolutely!” Shadowheart exclaimed, quickly dipping into her tent without another word. A few moments passed and the half-elf reemerged with a bar of soap in her hand along with a clean purple handkerchief.
“I can give you a ride down to the river as well,” Shadowheart added. “There is no need for you to walk all the way over there by yourself. This’ll be much faster for you.”
Ria stared up at Shadowheart with gratitude, a smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.
“Thank you so much, that is very kind of you.”
“This is nothing, honestly. I’m happy to help whenever you need me, okay?”
Ria had never been more thankful for a bath in her entire life. After being dunked in beer, swirled around inside Astarion’s mouth, and sprayed in blood, the feeling of cleanliness felt like a blessing from the gods themselves. She had scrubbed vigorously against her skin using a chunk of the soap that Shadowheart had provided until she was adamant that the smell of blood and beer was completely gone.
Shadowheart offered her hand to the borrower, her palm facing upwards. The cleric’s kindness almost made Ria forget about the entire tent scenario, and she eagerly climbed into her waiting hand.
***
She had also used this as a good opportunity to clean her clothes, which, at this point, were more like a bunch of rags now with how tattered they were. Her shirt and pants were thoroughly scrubbed, and were now drying in the sun on a small rock along the shore. Hopefully when she had finished her bath, they would at least be somewhat dry enough for her to wear comfortably.
She released a sigh of contentment as the cool waters of the river rushed over her. It was a welcome change to how gross she had been feeling over the past few days. Being able to finally be clean was exactly what she needed. A few more minutes passed as she enjoyed the soothing waters of the river and massaged her fingers through her auburn locks.
As she continued to massage her scalp, a flood of memories from the tiefling party suddenly crashed through her brain like a tidal wave. It seemed since Shadowheart had cured her of her hangover, it had allowed her to tap into those foggy memories from the previous night.
Ria slowly stopped scrubbing her hair as she remembered her heartfelt talk with Astarion – the fact that he had approached her by himself and apologised for what had happened at the Goblin Camp almost made her jaw hit the ground and her chest tighten. But what shocked her most of all, was the fact that she had gotten so horrendously drunk with the pale elf that she had fallen asleep on his leg.
Oh gods…that’s why I woke up in Astarion’s tent…this is humiliating.
At that moment, she wanted nothing more than to bury herself alive so she wouldn’t have to show her face at camp ever again. At least none of the others – other than Astarion of course – had witnessed her drunken antics. The fact that she had allowed herself to be so vulnerable and drunk around Astarion was utterly mortifying to say the least. She knew she would never hear the end of it from the vampire spawn, and it surprised her that he hadn’t shared that detail with her when she had woken up in his tent that morning.
Perhaps I should get out now before I drown myself in the river from embarrassment.
As she began to stride towards the shoreline, she noticed the water rippling strangely. Pausing briefly, her brows furrowed as she noticed the bizarre movement.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
She sucked in a sharp breath as small earthquakes rattled the sediment beneath her feet. Someone was approaching, and quickly. Frantically scanning the area, she immediately sprinted towards the shoreline and ducked behind a large rock that was jutting out of the ground. In her haste she grabbed the handkerchief that Shadowheart had given her and wrapped it around her trembling form.
The tremors quickly became more intense with each passing second and she clapped a hand over her mouth as Astarion’s towering figure came into view. The pale elf was carrying a small rattan basket at his hip and he gently placed it on the ground near the shoreline. He seemed to be completely oblivious to Ria’s presence.
Why did it have to be him?
Much to her astonishment, the vampire spawn began to remove his clothing. Her eyes widened as she watched him remove his ruffled shirt, revealing an expanse of toned abs, defined muscles rippling beneath his lustrous pale skin.
She knew that averting her gaze was the right thing to do, but it was almost as if she was under some hypnotic spell as she continued to watch the pale elf remove the rest of his clothing. As he peeled off his dark pants, she had to stifle a laugh as she saw Astarion’s shockingly blue underwear. Her amusement quickly faded as the bright blue underwear soon flew off, revealing his incredibly pale behind.
At this point, Ria had enough strength to tear her gaze away from his giant naked frame before she saw anything else. Her skin burned like fire as her brain attempted to process what she had just seen. Her stomach twisted into knots, the realisation that she had just willingly witnessed Astarion strip and seen things she really shouldn’t have begun to sink in. Burying her face with her hands, she pressed her back against the stone and wrapped the handkerchief around her body tighter.
At least Astarion doesn’t know I’m here. Maybe I can leave without him noticing.
As soon as the thought popped into her brain, she quickly dismissed it. If she decided to make a stealthy escape, there was a very strong chance that the vampire’s keen eyes would be able to detect her scurrying away. Perhaps if she was deathly quiet, she could wait it out until the pale elf had finished his bath and went on his way.
I could be waiting here a while…he really does care about his appearance.
Chewing on her bottom lip somewhat anxiously, she waited behind the stone as the occasional splashing noise filled the air. Time seemed to pass by longer than usual as she waited with baited breath for the elf to finish his cleaning routine.
Gods, I’m going to be here forever at this rate!
Somewhat gingerly, she decided to peek a small glance over the stone to see if Astarion was anywhere near to being done with his bath. Her breath caught in her throat as she saw his towering figure half submerged in the river, his toned and very pearly white back was now facing her. For whatever reason, she found it almost impossible to tear her gaze away from his form. Strongly defined scars were raised above his skin, a stark contrast to the pale smoothness of his back. Her brows furrowed as she stared intently at his scars. The arrangement of them seemed very deliberate as if someone had carved it strategically into his back. She squinted her eyes at his back and her jaw slacked.
The scars were written in Infernal, the language of the Hells.
When she was a child, her family lived in a home owned by a small family of tieflings just along the outskirts of Baldur’s Gate. The tieflings had many things written in Infernal and she remembered seeing some of the writing scattered around the house when she went borrowing with her father. What any of it meant though was unknown to her.
“Enjoying the show, darling?”
An icicle of terror jolted straight through her chest as Astarion’s voice pounded through her tiny eardrums. She had been so caught up with deciphering his scars, she hadn’t realised his head had turned to the side and was looking directly at her. Her entire body was washed over with utter horror as she rapidly hid back behind the stone. As she reeled in shock, the sound of water splashing filled her ears as Astarion moved around in the river.
“There’s no point pretending to act like you aren’t here. I can hear your little heartbeat pounding away after all, remember?”
Swallowing thickly, she attempted to steel herself.
“I-I was just leaving!”
She scrambled over to where her clothes were sunning on the small rock and snatched up the clothing hastily, refusing to look where Astarion was in the river, and quickly returned to her spot behind the rock so that he couldn’t see her anymore.
“I thought vampires couldn’t swim in running rivers,” she said shakily.
“Another perk from having the mind flayer parasite,” Astarion answered. “I can run through rivers, walk into homes uninvited, walk in the sun…it’s quite remarkable, really.”
“Of course, that makes sense.” She clutched her clothing to her chest and wasted little time in putting them on.
A small moment of silence passed between them. Ria could hear her own heartbeat pounding so fiercely in her eardrums that it drowned out any other noise.
“I couldn’t help but to notice you were staring earlier,” Astarion chimed, breaking the silence. “I didn’t realise you were that smitten by me, darling. Although I can hardly blame you when I have these gods given good looks.”
Ria wanted nothing more in that moment to vanish entirely. Blood rushed to her cheeks and her skin burned with embarrassment. There was no use trying to deny it, he had caught her in the act after all for the second time that day. But perhaps she could deter the subject.
“I was only trying to decipher those scars of yours,” she said. “How did you get them?”
There was no response to her question. She couldn’t see his face as she was still hidden behind the rock, but it appeared that her question had struck a chord with him as he was silent for once.
“Astarion?” Ria called out. When she was met with nothing, she cautiously peered around the rock she was hiding behind. Astarion was still waist deep in the river, his lower regions concealed by the water, and a rather pained look was painted across his elegant features.
“You don’t have to answer, I’m sorry for prying,” she said hastily, worried that she may have resurfaced some troubled memories from his past.
“No, it’s quite alright,” Astarion answered, his face sombre. “I was a slave, kept by the Szarr family. The scars are a poem. A gift from my master, Cazador. He considered himself quite the artist and used his slaves as a canvas. He composed and carved that one over the course of a night.”
Astarion paused, his face contorted in discomfort as his eyes glazed over, seemingly lost momentarily in a dark memory of his past.
“He made a lot of revisions as he went.” His jaw clenched as the words fell out of his mouth, his playful behaviour from before had completely vanished before very eyes.
Ria’s eyes widened as she fully absorbed the weight of his words, her mouth parted slightly in shock. She would’ve never had guessed that Astarion had been – or perhaps still is – a slave. A wave of sympathy washed over her as she struggled to think of how to respond.
“I’m so sorry,” she said softly, her brows furrowed. “I had no idea.”
“Oh please, I don’t want your sympathy,” Astarion scoffed. “I was his slave for 200 years of my life. I prayed to every god there was, but no one came to help. No prince in shining armour came to my aid. Of all the things that could’ve saved me, it was the mind flayers. As rotten as they are, they broke Cazador’s spell on me and I was finally able to resist his commands. Now I’ve been conveniently lost.” He peeled back his lips into a growl as his gaze hardened. “They won’t ever control me again.”
Her chest was constricted with sadness upon hearing more of his past. She wanted to offer more words of comfort, but she knew it wasn’t what he wanted to hear given his previous response.
“Why did Cazador write the poem in Infernal?” she questioned.
Astarion’s eyes widened in surprise, seemingly caught off guard by her question.
“Infernal? I…who knows? The bastard was insane.” He ran his fingers through his damp curls, his gaze sharpening as he focused back onto her. “Better question is, how does a little borrower like you know the language of the Hells?”
“My family lived under the floorboards of a house full of tieflings,” she answered, a small smirk pulling at the corners of her mouth. “I can’t read it though, but I know Infernal when I see it.”
“Well, that is certainly interesting.” He massaged shampoo through his scalp before rinsing it off in the river, shaking droplets of water from his wet locks. “Now, if you are quite done staring, I would like to continue my bath.”
Scarlet blossomed across her face and she quickly spun on her heel so that she was no longer facing him.
“I told you I was planning on having a bath earlier, it’s your own fault for blundering down here when you knew I would be here too.” She sucked in a sharp breath, trying to hide her own embarrassment. It was bad enough that Astarion had already caught her staring at him when she had woken up in his tent that morning, now she had seen other parts of his body that had previously been left up to her imagination.
“I didn’t realise you were going to take so long,” Astarion responded. “Everyone is packing up camp and getting ready to move on, and it was vital that I had a decent bath before we hit the road again. Oh, what I wouldn’t do for a proper bath…”
“Well, maybe if someone hadn’t dropped me in a tub of beer and then proceeded to stick me in their mouth, I wouldn’t have had to spend so much time cleaning myself,” she shot back.
Ria still had her back turned to him, but she could feel in the air that he was rolling his eyes.
“The fact of the matter is that you’re still here,” he said. “I never took you for a voyeur, but I suppose we’ve both learned something new about each other.”
“I’m leaving!” Ria began to stride very quickly towards the direction of camp, not daring to look over her shoulder as her skin burned as hot as Karlach’s engine. “And I am not into voyeurism!”
“Whatever you say, darling.”
#prism writes#g/t#giant/tiny#gianttiny#male giant#giantess#borrowers#g/t writing#g/t fandom#g/t community#baldur's gate 3#baldur's gate 3 fanfic#bg3#bg3 g/t#astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion x oc#shadowheart
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"It's just something most, if not all wolves pick up if they survive The Pit. Helps in combat, though not so much in day-to-day life as things that are harmless our body will think is an attack." Kalak was certainly better than most of the wolves that were born inside wolf country, though still had a long way to go before she got past it. At least she was better as back in the day she would've just ripped Tangles arm off. Best keep that to herself.
"Um, I won't ask why you have that specific scenario to use." Kalak didn't want to pry as it sounded like a very personal example. Though the wolf's attention went to the questions about her spider. "Oh, Rhys is completely domesticated, so no need to worry about that. He'll tag along with me on missions, whenever I can bring him at least. I guess he does offer a great deal of emotional support. This isn't his true size as by law he has to have magic reactions on his size outside of wolf country. Normally he's about as big as me."
Rhys would look at Tangle, turning its head slightly. The spider making no attempt to walk towards the lemur or step back as he just stayed close to Kalak. It would raise and reach out with its leg, as if it was testing the waters with the other.
"This is something Rhys does, to see if there's a threat or get a feel of what's ahead that he can't see. I think he's just a bit confused and nervous. As I said, we don't have any creatures like you back in Flora so he can't really judge what you can and can't do." Kalak would pat Rhys on the head to make sure he stayed at ease. The wolf knowing he will attack if he feels threatened.
She had always been a person of outward physical affection for those people she liked. She'd always been a bit of a hugger, or a little bump on the shoulder. It was just how she personally showed affection for another. She got it from her mother, who was very much the same way. Until Whisper though she hadn't met anyone who was offcut by physical contact or the way she showed affection. Whisper had tried to teach her about boundaries and while she was better, old habits are hard to break away from. but she could see alot of Whisper in Kalak, and wondered if it was a wolf thing or, maybe because they were both soldiers.
" Nah i get it, Whisp is kind of the same... Maybe cause she's a Soldier.... or i dunno really. But she's tried to get me to be better about ya know... just my lack of boundaries i'll do better promise! "
" An dun worry! take alot more then some words to upset me Kalak... like short or stuffin' me in a box we'll be good! "
Yes that was oddly specific wasn't it! but you don't get dropped in a coffin 10 feet down and forget about how awful that was. Let alone her claustrophobia! As for the Spider tangle was absolutely fasionated, though wasn't sure if she should try to pet them! but they were SO DANG CUTE! she never thought about spiders or insects being cute BUT now she had and it was all over! However she guessed that maybe Jewel might need some adjusting. She already had a fear of spider mobians this might not go over well with her.
"awww ain't you just the cutest thing! "
Like a dog she held her hand out to the small spooder! She opted to let them come to her. Best not to scare them or, agitate them. She didn't fancy a bite would go well for her.
" So is he like your emotional support spooder? can they spin a web? or is they more a huntin' spooder... how smart are they? like are they as smart as us or... more, like one of them pet doggos i see humans have. "
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Rewatching Link Click: Easter eggs in your noodle soup?
So I've just finished watching both seasons of Link Click/Shíguāng Dàilǐ-rén, which means that obviously I'm watching it all over again. What did you expect me to do, sit around waiting for Bridon arc while the Bilibili official account taunts us with replays??
Besides, Link Click is one of those dishes that is best served twice. The early episodes are packed with hints and foreshadowing that only become clear once you've gotten up to date, so I've made it my mission to catch 'em all.
You don't say.
It's well known that certain early mini-arcs (for instance Chen Xiao's basketball match, and Doudou's kidnapping) have implications for the larger plotline or at least contain important exposition/character insights that the story would not feel complete without. There are also several that get written off as filler, or are generally considered to not have any purpose beyond familiarising the audience with the characters and setup, and lulling you into a false sense of comfort before everything goes to shit. Episode 2: Secret Recipe, AKA the Noodle Lesbians episode, beloved as it is, tends to fall into the second category.
Or does it?
On a rewatch, I still don't think it does anything to advance the main plot. We don't even really know where it fits into the timeline, because we're never told what day it is and Lu Guang's watch is never shown on screen (I'll get around to a longer analysis of this another day). However, I'm instead inclined to believe that it's one of the most important episodes in the show - if not THE most important - because it's essentially an allegory for the story of Cheng Xiaoshi and Lu Guang, and gives you a bird's eye view of how the relationship between them is going to develop - which, as you know, is what the show is all about. And the fact that it's not situated in a specific time, in a show that cares heavily about timeline construction, makes it better.
The episode starts with this quote from German photographer August Sander, who believed that, through photography, he could reveal the characteristic traits of people. "The portrait is your mirror. It's you." It's pretty explicit, when you think about it. This episode is a mirror of the entire series, specifically of its protagonists.
Moving on. The episode's storyline is quite simple: two college "roommates" start a noodle shop together, and as time passes, they drift apart and eventually fall out as their priorities change. Yu Xia, the business-oriented one between them, wants to get hold of the secret ingredient used by Lin Zhen, to whose cooking the shop attributes its success. Does Yu Xia really want to steal the secret recipe? Or is it just one of the many things that the quieter Lin Zhen keeps hidden from her that she desperately wants to know, along with everything that went wrong between them? Your guess is as good as mine. Either way, there are lots of indirect parallels between Xialin of the noodle shop and Shiguang of the photo studio, even if for now they're very distinct individuals with their own personalities and struggles. It does, however, give some indication of what's to come.
This question isn't purely rhetorical, as we find out in the very next arc, where Cheng Xiaoshi has a fight with Lu Guang over letting his client's loved ones perish in the Wenchuan earthquake. Even if they eventually come to a consensus, they have fundamentally different life philosophies and approach their missions in very different ways. Cheng Xiaoshi is a hyperempathetic idealist who keeps trying to use his forays back into the past to fix his clients' personal problems, while Lu Guang remains utterly indifferent and staunchly against interfering, even in life-or-death situations. Which turns out to be a facade, because we later learn that he's just as much of a meddler as Cheng Xiaoshi - except he's focused on a singular, selfish goal, which is to keep Cheng Xiaoshi alive at any cost.
Let's go back to the noodle shop. After ten years of running the business together, it becomes clear that the ladies' aspirations are no longer compatible. Yu Xia has big plans for the shop. She wants to broaden their customer base - for profit, of course, but also so that more people can be made happy by the chance to taste their noodles. Lin Zhen's dreams, however, are on a smaller scale - perhaps only on a personal scale. Throughout the episode, it seems that she only really cares about making noodles for one person.
Sound familiar?
At the risk of digressing, it needs to be said that Yu Xia and Lin Zhen are absolutely very much a WLW couple. This isn't bait, it's elegant and really quite unsubtle queercoding that says 'to hell with censorship' loud and clear. Honeymoon jokes, the taxi driver assuming Lin Zhen had fought with her husband, and Lin Zhen's very bold attempts at flirting... we see you.
More to the point of this post, I think it's important to point out that Lin Zhen does not actually care for too many people other than Yu Xia. She's all worn out from making noodles for customers, but she forgets all about that when it's time to make a bowl for Yu Xia. She also keeps her special ingredient - which is one of the secrets she shares with Yu Xia, as we find out - highly guarded. She's never going to let these pesky reporters in on something so intimate.
Why is this important? Because, as it turns out, the episode's storyline - and Lin Zhen's motives - are all about saving Yu Xia.
We learn that the secret ingredient is a local specialty from Yu Xia's hometown. Lin Zhen has been using it for years, keeping the taste of home alive while Yu Xia's drifted further and further from home to the point where she can no longer remember where the ingredient came from. At the end of it all, when Yu Xia returns home, she finds Lin Zhen there waiting for her. Lin Zhen, mind you, does not hail from the same town. The girls met in college. It's home to her simply because it's Yu Xia's home.
This comes directly after a pilot episode that establishes the contrast between urban isolation and rural/familial warmth, through Emma's eyes, and in a show that continually reinforces the concept of longing for home and loved ones. By forcing Yu Xia to reevaluate her priorities, Lin Zhen manages to bring her back home - which is a place that includes herself.
Perhaps it's too early to say. But to me, it's a pretty neat thematic parallel of Lu Guang's solo quest to save Cheng Xiaoshi from death; which is intertwined with a greater goal of giving Cheng Xiaoshi a home, one that is safe and secure and surrounds him with those that love him and are there to stay.
But in the process of achieving this, one of his biggest obstacles is Cheng Xiaoshi himself - his insistence on interfering with the timeline so that Lu Guang can't predict events with certainty, his objections to the way Lu Guang does things, and the definite resistance Lu Guang will come up against if Cheng Xiaoshi learns about his plan. Pretty much every minor mission they undertake is a rehash of the same argument; Cheng Xiaoshi wants to use their combined powers to make a difference to other people's lives, and Lu Guang just has one goal in mind which means that he's going to ignore absolutely everyone else.
Notice how Yu Xia's looking to the future, while Lin Zhen's dream is to go back to a point in the past? Neat.
And when they finally part ways because it's clear Yu Xia is not going to support Lin Zhen's goal? Yu Xia asks her where she's going to go after they part ways, and Lin Zhen says:
I wonder where we've heard that before.
And if you need any more proof that this episode is in fact intended to be a mirror, do consider:
Their seating positions are mirrored too. Yeeeeaaaaaahhhh.
In conclusion: if this allegory is to be believed, then trust that Lu Guang will eventually succeed in his mission and Cheng Xiaoshi will find his way home to him. It'll happen, guys. In the meantime, at least our beloved noodle ladies will be living a peaceful life out in the countryside.
Since I don't know how to shut up and this website seems to be giving me infinite space to yap, let me include some more details about this episode that I found cool. There are so many.
Lin Zhen and Lu Guang are both shown while this line is being said. What with all that the fragrant flowers represent, it makes you think about what these characters' best memories might be and how much they treasure them.
This is such a tiny detail that you'd almost definitely miss it on the first watch, and it seems insignificant - until it isn't. When Cheng Xiaoshi hops into the girls' picture taken during their college days, he screws up and suggests they'd be better off dabbling in tech stuff like apps or intelligent management than running a noodle shop. Lu Guang makes him quickly eat his words, but they seem to have still struck a chord with Yu Xia - because later we see that she works over years to integrate an intelligent supply chain management system into their business. In fact, one of the reasons for Lin Zhen to alienate herself from the business is because she feels like it's gotten too techy and lost its human touch. Not really fair considering it was her own idea, is it?
I mean. This is probably a stretch. Digitization is pretty inevitable for big businesses nowadays, so Yu Xia, being as enterprising as she is, might have gone for it whether Lin Zhen suggested it or not. But it's interesting to think that it might be Cheng Xiaoshi's tiny alteration of the past that unfurled outwards like a hurricane from the beating of a butterfly's wing and catalysed their falling out. Especially because these kinds of bootstrap phenomena very much occur in later episodes and are a core feature of Link Click's time travel model.
Some suspicious behaviour on Lu Guang's part. He's quite certain there are no useful clues in the last picture Yu Xia and Lin Zhen took in front of their shop, despite it being the only one taken by Lin Zhen (seriously! you could go to her house, look through her phone, the possibilities are endless!) and the fact that this is the photo Cheng Xiaoshi did end up solving the mystery in, thanks to the ticket stubs he found in her purse (see?) Secondly, they outright miss a picture in the envelope - the most important picture of all which would have given them the answer right away, since this was when the fragrant flowers were first used. Not your best work, Lu Guang.
...or is it? Lu Guang is pretty meticulous, and it's unlike him to slip up in such obvious ways. He's also skilled at slipping things back into envelopes when he doesn't want them to be seen, as we know. Could it be that he didn't want Cheng Xiaoshi to solve the mystery? But why? Maybe it's metaphorical, like so much else of this episode: he doesn't want Cheng Xiaoshi to uncover his true intentions. The fact that all this is ultimately for his sake.
Interestingly, Lu Guang was very dejected at the idea of them seemingly being out of luck - they'd tried so many times and failed to fulfill the mission. Was he, perhaps, thinking about another mission he'd hate to fail? Anyway, it falls to Cheng Xiaoshi to cheer him up and give him hope for another try, which he accepts, with a small but genuine smile. My heart.
If you've scrolled this far, I'm glad you enjoyed my ramblings! I must say I don't know much about how Tumblr works so apologies if I mess up on formatting or tags, but I'll probably get the hang of it soon enough. I'll also probably end up enjoying Tumblr more than Twitter since it allows me unfettered yap space and won't feed my writing to the machine (yet). It's late and I should probably stop stop thinking bout it around now... but look forward to more random ramblings and thank you for reading!
#link click#shiguang daili ren#link click spoilers#sgdlr#shiguang#lcs1e2#cheng xiaoshi#lu guang#analysis#noodle lesbians#you can't have me watch a series about time shenanigans and expect me not to theorycraft
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Arc 9: Sentinel, Concluding Thoughts
Remarkably, an entire arc where the POV isn't Taylor Hebert is still a pretty bad time for those involved.
I like the Brockton Wards, mostly. Vista is by far my favorite of the bunch because she's cooler than all of them and also a middle schooler, and honestly that's super fucked up. I like Clockblocker, Weld, Flechette, I got a little annoyed with Kid Win being so down on himself but he was basically fine, and Shadow Stalker.
I'm sure we're going to get more Shadow Stalker in the next arc or two, unless they just bury her in wet cement next chapter which I kind of doubt, but I want it now because I am desperate to find out what the fuck happened to make her the kind of person who legit buys into alpha/beta crap to the point of murdering people over it. Taylor hasn't killed anyone yet and this entire serial is about how she justifies ever-increasing acts of violence to respond to problems caused in no small part by her previous acts of violence; Vista getting first blood before her is a fucking tragedy and Shadow Stalker having multiple kills notched is a horror story. I need this to make sense, and also if we can avoid more weird racist connotations in making sense of this that would be great.
Didn't love the Travelers fight, like I mentioned. The investment wasn't really there for me, there weren't really any stakes to it so the whole thing was just kind of a space filler.
Shocked that the Slaughterhouse Nine are being signposted as early as this, too. Not that I'd put it past them to be in the Bay within a month of Leviathan, but I continue to be surprised at Worm's pacing. I don't think I'm gonna love that part of the story but if I can hold my nose through every interaction with Coil, I can probably handle the Nine.
Vista is. Okay for real though, what the fuck is happening with the Protectorate/PRT and throwing this middle schooler into constant life-or-death situations. She was at Leviathan, which, okay sure, pull out all the stops when the alternative is complete annihilation, make the birthday girl kill a man to put fifteen seconds on the game clock while we're at it. She was at the Empire's murderous tantrum alongside other Wards and New Wave, which I guess is because she's one of the only heroes whose powers can keep up with all the flyers in the Empire? Still wild choice there. She was instrumental in the disarmament of Bakuda's magnum opus mega-EMP along with Clockblocker, and I know he's the big name for the team but why didn't they just put Armsmaster on that to tinker the problem away? I feel like putting EOD duty on the teenaged public figures is an incorrect call someone made. I'd love to find out who, and maybe throw pieces of brickwork at them while they have to hold still. Can somebody stop throwing this girl into horrific combat scenarios as a government-employed child?
I'm going to keep pointing and laughing at Coil though, because the man is literally only succeeding at his infiltration of the PRT because they're letting him, and now he's only going to have a Ward as his own personal mole because they're letting him. Man wants to control an entire city and the whole thing would collapse if a single government organization stopped letting him take Ws he thought he earned.
I want to read those summaries of the studies done on that Dallon-Pelham clan though. Desperate to know if whatever insane WASP nuclear family nightmare goes on in those homes leaked into the research papers.
And then yeah, looking back at the ambush with Sophia. I was really glad to see the squad again, honestly, and it's great to see them working together, especially to take down a killer gunning for their own. A little funny that Sophia prides herself so highly for being a hunter of men and she fell for a classic ambush without even blinking.
Guess we get to find out what that's all building up to in the next arc, eh?
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CW: Overdose, death, murder, SA references etc. It's Mouthwashing
Anya doesn't quite know what's happening. She remembers the way the pills felt in her fingers, and then in her throat. She remembers the hard swallow, trying not to gag, and the tears.
And then she remembers floating. Seeing herself, still on the floor, blood staining her face and dripping down to tint her uniform a deep crimson. She remembers seeing Curly, hearing the faintest of whimpers and turning to follow his gaze past her form and out the door.
She'd watched the axe swing alongside him.
Anya covers her mouth and gasps. There's a trail of blood leading out of the room, and she reluctantly follows it, staring down at Daisuke's body as he lays there. Swansea drapes something over his head and stands, and she watches his expression change and change again, countless emotions flying past.
Jimmy stalks out of the room and she instinctively steps out of his way, although he ignores her entirely, walking straight through her arm as she ducks to the side and holds her breath.
Anya doesn't want to follow him. She doesn't want to know his intentions, realising slowly what's happening as Swansea picks up the axe again and Curly groans and twists on his bed.
She looks, then. She sees Jimmy opening the case, setting the code scanner down to replace it with the gun she'd hidden. She watches as he checks it's loaded and slowly turns to Swansea, something wild in his expression as though he's not in the room at all.
There's a fight she shies away from, unable to help, unable to process anything as, ultimately, Swansea loses and is tied to a chair by the dinner table. Jimmy levels the gun at him, not content in slowly letting Swansea bleed out in the same way he'd been willing to let Daisuke.
She listens to Swansea's final speech, and the gunshot that ends it all. Her body is picked up and she shudders as the lot of them are moved to the table. Jimmy places Curly on it, removing part of his leg and forcing it down his throat, and she wants to be sick.
And then the entire ship seems to lurch, and she gasps for air as the lights flicker on and off around her.
When she sits up, she's in the medical room. Curly shakes her shoulder, and she blinks up at him, mouth dropping open as she fights to process how he's standing in front of her again, clean and handsome and not at all bloodied, with a polite look of concern on his face.
"You fell asleep at the desk, Anya? How hard are you studying?" he asks with a polite chuckle, voice low and quiet. It must be late.
Her brain and emotions fight a war she isn't ready for, and Anya feels herself tear up. She goes to wipe it away, and it feels like her entire body shudders and jolts two paces to the left as the tiredness and aches settle back in.
Her stomach feels weird.
She remembers this day. It was soon after Jimmy...
Anya bites her tongue.
She'd told Curly, then. It was the first time she'd admitted it, half asleep, exhausted, and scared out of her mind. He'd come into the medical room after she'd worked herself into a panic and fallen asleep sometime after, body too worn to keep going.
Now, she looks at him, and he looks as kind and welcoming as ever. And she wonders how much of that is real and how much of it he's crafted.
Curly was a good man, but he wasn't a great one. He had his own fears to contend with, and they got in the way of things, she'd realised somewhere along the line. She remembers going to get the gun, then. Taking matters into her own hands.
There's nothing to stop her doing that now.
"Curly... You know the medical cabinet by the bay windows? I need to check what supplies we have in there for one of these..." and she holds up a form about something or other, tucking it away before he can actually read it. "Can I borrow the code scanner and go check? I'll bring it straight back."
"Shouldn't you go sleep?" Curly asks, sitting on the corner of the desk. He looks like he's going to reach out to her, but when Anya flinches he stops and seems to truly look at her for a moment before his gaze passes over her and away to the wall.
He was good at pretending not to notice the obvious.
"I promise I will after I get this done. I just... Want to make sure we really have everything, just in case."
Curly nods to himself, not one to take much convincing. He considers it for a few moments and then passes the scanner to her, holding the index finger of his other hand to his mouth.
"Don't tell anyone," he mutters, tone lightheartedly secretive. "Especially Jimmy. I just know he'd kick up a fuss if he found out I let someone else borrow this when he hasn't gotten to yet."
Anya smiles and wraps her fingers securely around the scanner.
"I won't. Promise."
And she stands, eyes the lock on the medical room, and leaves. She's almost glad she hadn't locked the door that night.
It takes a few days to build the nerve for it all, but she watches Jimmy's decline, and this time she actually sees it. She tells Swansea, too, one day in the cockpit.
He's quiet, almost contemplative as he listens to her, and she watches him ball his hands into fists before he tucks them away out of her sight.
When she reaches the conclusion she's come to, the new ending she's going to build, trying not to wince at him when her eyes trace over the spaces she expects to find bullet holes, Swansea just nods.
"It's your choice," is what he settles on ultimately. "Ain't ever had much liking for the two of them. Just don't do it in front of the kid."
Anya nods, and all in a rush, she steps forward and throws her arms around his neck. Swansea gives little more protest than a small groan before he pats her twice on the back, keeping his hands high and his touch gentle.
"I'm on your side girl. If anything comes of this, I'll be with you," he mumbles, frowning through his words as though he himself isn't quite sure of it, although Anya knows the look in his eyes.
He's set his mind on something. Nothing can deter Swansea now.
It's the next day, and she wonders about trying to tell Curly again, but she sits on the sofa and stares up at that one dead pixel and puts her hand in her pocket.
This is it.
She sees Jimmy go into the cockpit, and she follows behind him a little after. He turns when she enters, frowning as if he's reminding her he doesn't think she belongs here.
Anya smiles.
She thinks maybe she hasn't in a while. Not properly, and god, never really at this monster of a man in front of her.
His worst moments made him.
She takes the gun and levels it at his forehead, and hears Curly call from down the corridor. There's a scuffle, and she knows Swansea is trying to keep him away.
Anya locks the door.
She doesn't really have any final words for Jimmy, watching his confidence rot away under the threat she points at him so resolutely. There's no changing the outcome. Only one of them will be leaving this room alive.
She aims close to his temple, where his own shot had landed last time.
Anya doesn't try to reason with Curly, but she does explain. Her voice is level as she talks through the door, and he tries once to explain it all away as being a nightmare she shouldn't have acted on, he would've taken responsibility, he would've dealt with it.
She scoffs, and she hears Curly go still on the other side of the door.
"But you never have," she says. And then, "I told you."
And so she tells him.
#Mouthwashing#Mouthwashing game#My writings#Oneshot#Mouthwashing Anya#Mouthwashing Curly#Mouthwashing Swansea#Mouthwashing Jimmy#Sorry Daisuke fans he's only mentioned in this#I feel like in the game they intentionally didn't get him involved. I don't see Anya getting him involved here either#Also sorry this was written in 30 minutes after a 3 hour dnd game and with me half asleep#I just had the idea and went for it
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Between the Black and Grey 71
First / Previous / Next
The atmosphere aboard the dreadnought was tense. There were a few moments of negotiation about whether Penny would go over to Gord's ship, or Gord to Penny's but in the end, Gord blinked first. Probably because he knew that Home still had their stardrive pointed at Penny's ship.
The ships connected, Gord and Chloe came over and were led to a conference room right off the airlock. A steward - knowing they were both AIs - offered them coffee or tea, and to her immense surprise, Gord accepted. A few moments after the coffee was delivered, Penny and Zhe came in. As she stepped in, a guard attempted to follow them, and Zhe stared at him and shook her head. His eyes flicked to Penny's and she nodded, and he saluted sharply and stepped back out.
"That was the 'this is insane, but you are the commander, so I will do what you say' salute if I ever saw one." Gord said, grinning around his coffee. Penny looked at Gord, surprised. Zhe just smirked and flicked her ears.
As they both sat Gord put his coffee down. "Feeling a little overwhelmed, Empress? It's okay, we're among friends here."
Penny glared at Gord for the barest split second, then her shoulders slumped and she leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling. "I have no idea what I'm doing." She said to the ceiling. Penny continued, "Fen left on the expeditionary force - I told her she didn't need to go, but she insisted, then we get an emergency beacon from the K'laxi of all people saying that they're breaking away from the Empire, oh and not only that they are fighting against the nanites - which the general public didn't know about - but now they do, and that there isn't an Empress anymore and what can we do but assume she was killed along with the expeditionary force!" She tilted her head just enough to see Gord, "they were destroyed I assume?" He nodded once. She looked back up at the ceiling. "I immediately declare myself Empress - along with about a dozen other people across colonial space and now it's a race to see who can build the largest coalition of support and-" she sighed "-probably fight a couple of civil wars before the new leader of humanity is declared." She sat up and locked eyes with Gord. "Then, I scramble to get whatever ship will let me on out to Home so I can go ask the AIs - who just recently came back and said they were willing to work with us - for help figuring out what the fuck is happening, and I get ignored and sure, maybe I overreact a little and sent a couple shots over your bow to get your attention. Someone from out past Jupiter tells me to stuff it, and then Home aims their stardrive at me. So yes Gord, I am feeling 'a little overwhelmed'" She trudges over to the sideboard in the conference room, pours a water, downs it in one gulp, pours another, and then sits back down. "So then, Gord and Chloe, representatives of the AI faction, what do you want to discuss."
Chloe shifts awkwardly in her seat. "Well, we-"
"Did you know I was a spy?" Penny said, unprompted. "My aim never was for power. I was assigned to watch Fen, keep my superiors apprised about what she was doing - mostly with her K'laxi black projects team - and to try and steer her away from any actually damaging courses of action. I wasn't supposed to fall for her!" It was practically a wail. "I know she holds a candle for her dead wife and will probably never actually love anyone else, doesn't matter I still loved her! Now, she's gone, and I don't know if she's alive or dead, and the Nanites are acting real strange and the whole thing is going to crash down, and if I survive the next year it'll be an Ancestors provided miracle." She stifled a sob and took another sip of water and sniffed. "So, if you have any idea where Fen went, please, please tell me."
Gord looked at Chloe. There was a second of them staring at eachother. Communicating? Just staring? Zhe wasn't sure. Finally Chloe blinked and scoffed. "Fine." She said.
"Well Penny - Penelope - Empress..." Gord said, kindly. "We don't exactly know... anymore."
****
Fen drifted in and out of conciseness. Her suit had her partially reclined, and she was well supported, and the suit was warm and quiet and she was so tired. So very tired. Was she sleeping, or was she passing out? Did it matter? She blinked and the gray of the virus took up a small portion of the nebula. She blinked again, and half the nebula was gray. Blinking again, it was all gray. Shit, this was bad. "Suit?" She said. "How long has it been since we linked here?"
TWENTY STANDARD SOL HOURS.
Nearly a day. Didn't feel like it. She ached, her limbs felt tired and cold and she wasn't hungry. Shouldn't she be hungry? She drank a little water from the straw near her mouth, and suddenly her mouth was incredibly parched. She sucked the water in greedy slurps until the pouch was empty. It would refill overtime from expelled moisture from her breath, and processed waste, and even from the spare oxygen and hydrogen it could capture from interstellar space, but, she might get one more pouch of water that way. If she was going to survive she needed to do something.
"But what, Fen? What the fuck do I do now?" She said to herself. There was nobody near, nobody who knew where she was - unless Gord or Chloe thought to scan for the backpack's link signature. Supposedly that was possible, but it was difficult, and not terribly accurate and would... require them knowing... she left. Dammit. Chloe knew she left, Fen thought, but she had cut her comm.
Wait a moment, the backpack had enough power for two trips, one 'there' and one 'back.' She brought up the link backpack's overlay and... yes, it could link exactly one more time.
But where?
She could link back to Sol, but would anyone be able to find her in time? Did the backpack have a directory of common locations? If she linked in the middle of the shipping lane for Parvati, would they see her, or would she just be another bit of debris destroyed by the stationkeeping lasers of a Starjumper linking in? Scrolling through the settings, Fen saw that it didn't really have a directory. The backpack was clearly one step above a prototype. There was a log of previous addresses, but they didn't detail where they were. Her only option was to wait here, and hope Gord or Chloe put two and two together and got six, or link back to Sol, and scream on comms until she died, or was rescued.
Fen sighed. Was it even a choice?
She toggled the return, and the backpack linked her away from the white hole, and the remains of the nanites.
Fen sat on the forest floor, hugging her knees. Ma sat next to her, leaning her head on Fen's shoulder. "You should be proud hon. You did it." She straightened up. "Not only that, but you did it yourself, with your own idea. It wasn't Gord's idea, or Zhe's, or Penny's or mine. It was yours."
Fen smiled as she clutched her knees. "I am pretty awesome, aren't I?"
"You know I know you are." Ma said, her ears flicking.
"But Ma, what am I going to do now? Defeating the nanites was just the start. If I get picked up, If I survive, If we can figure out the K'laxi..."
"All decisions you have the privilege, the honor to make, because you took the step to stop the nanites. Humanity is in charge of their destiny again. The other stuff?" Ma nuzzled Fen's neck. "That's just details."
Fen was in space still, but this was different. For one, the yellow-white light of Sol shone on her, warming her suit, not the sharp blue white of the white hole. For another, her comm lit up with dozens of frequencies, all clearing for the emergency trill of her rescue beacon. For a third... three quarters of Fen's view was taken up by the colony ship the AI called Home, only a couple hundred kilometers away.
Of course. She was on Gord's ship before and that was right next to Home. She'd return to the same location, and would naturally still be next to home. Fen sighed and drifted off as red and white sparkles of emergency ships soared towards her.
#humans are deathworlders#humans are space orcs#humans are space oddities#jpitha#humans and aliens#writing#sci fi writing#humans are space australians#humans are space capybaras#FlashWarp
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