#just may have made me switch lanes

[qqtxt]

This world

THIS IS 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI FOR BIKER!HWA'S SAKE (nsfw tags under the cut) (masterlist) (join taglist)

🏍️ pairing: biker!seonghwa x f!reader 🏍️ genre: romance, fluff, action, smut, strangers to lovers, slight enemies to lovers, smidgen of angst, sprinkles of comedy 🏍️ summary: caught between the past and present, you search for a new beginning in night city as a mechanic at outlaw customs. how will a fateful encounter with seonghwa, the leader of the blue birds, help you feel alive? 🏍️ wordcount: 16.2k 🏍️ warnings/tags: biker!hwa, quick edit, likely inaccuracies in mechanics and motorcycles, mechanic!yunho, businessman!jongho, biker!yeosang, mechanic!reader, tattooed!reader, gang life/activity, misuse of lore terminology, language, food, wounds/injuries, pain, bike chases and dangerous tricks, talk of death/rebirth, identity searching, imagery and setting inspired by outlaw trailers, lmk if anything else 🏍️ a/n: i gave myself a one day break, listened to a dream i had... and this happened. totally was not spooked today and rushed to edit in a feverish state... always, any notes, reblogs and comments are appreciated, much love~

🏍️ a/n pt2: biker!hwa supremacy also spreads to the exchange event hosted by @kflixnet for @qqtxt (and thank you @alohajun for organising!) - hope you enjoy!!

🏍️ perma-taglist: @doom-fics @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @honey-lemon-goose @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @cqndiedcherries @uwuheeseungie @cheollipop @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @mingigoo @michel-angelhoe @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @nebulousbookshelf @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @ssaboala @jaehunnyy @kitten4sannie @maddkitt @yunbug

🏍️ cannot be tagged: @mystar1024

🏍️ nsfw tags: condom used, slow, a dom!leaning reader with a soft!hwa, handjob, slight edging, praise, save a bike - ride a biker, focus on intimacy and emotional experience, some mutual masturbation, f!masturbation, literally just two people in love with each other, cuddling and implied aftercare

The artificial suns of Night City shone bright in a palette of neon hues, so vivid and vibrant that one could almost forget that there had ever been a real star in the first place. Kids wished on blinking lightbulbs and travellers followed endless expanses of darkness, more accustomed to uncertainty than the belief that there was a veritable ally in the form of a celestial sign or a constellation. Everyone wore the same perfume: an acrid concoction of smog, grease and disgust that lingered whenever a visitor from another district came by, blending to form a hatred for all things that existed outside of the palace of neon. This was the palace that you had willingly made your home, and found that if you were to shut your eyes and then dare to peek through your lashes at the kaleidoscopic landscape, it took on the shape of an eloquent illusion of divinity. A rudimentary vision, a utopia carved out in impermanence, commanded by wishful thinking and a desire for anything except what you had known. This was your new home, and you were going to try as you might to cling to it, and find peace amidst the suffocating starless expanse.

You had arrived without a particular plan in mind, with only a rucksack and the tattoos decorating your skin to keep you company on your journey. The only persistent parasite that gnawed at your flesh and jolted you awake like a scalding whip when the roads seemed to be endless, was a burning desire to erase anything, everything that served as a reminder. While you were a believer in growing from the past, and reflecting on it, treating each memory and learned skill as a stepping stone towards a better future, the weight of each step was overwhelming, the gaps between them unbearable, and soon enough, you found yourself to be stretched too thin over your own existence, to the point where you had gained an alarming transparency, one tiny step away from disappearing into the lack of self that you had wholly succumbed to until your sudden evaporation and accidental escape to Night City. 

At the same time, you were not entirely ungrateful for the ‘you’ you had become. The miscellaneous arsenal of know-how and street smarts landed you a job, had you settled into a group of people who did not seem too bad and most importantly did not ask too many questions, gave you a roof over your head and had you working long hours in the garage from the get-go. That, from your experience, was the best way to forget and to start anew. So long as you did not speak to your clients more than necessary, instead focusing on their priceless metal steeds that you had the pleasure of tinkering with for hours on end. In this way, you got to see your clients at their most vulnerable, scrutinising you but so helpless that it nearly made you laugh, comparing the scene to a child watching their mother patch up a toy that they had torn after playing a little too roughly.

This approach turned out to be the one that won the big bucks in the city. Less talk, more trust. And resulted in the previously sceptical owners of the mechanic shop you had strolled into on your first day in town, passively protecting the shell of the self that you carried, uncaring for what fate had in store, to finally begin to warm up to you and treat you less like a pest, and more like a colleague. Only took them a couple of months. Though it would be foolish to hope for anything else, so you had simply settled into the rhythm of waking up, heading downstairs from the crammed studio that they had offered you - a stuffy dark corner, definitely the humblest abode but more than enough to crash in and more than generous for a person who had been a total stranger, and going to a different open cave in the garage and workshop, this time one dedicated to all things motorcycle. Since Outlaw Customs, a name which you had found incredibly comedic and ironic considering a high percentage of the clientele fit the shop description, was primarily for automobiles, there was not much dedicated to the untameable beauties that you loved so much. The head of the shop, a young man by the name of Jeong Yunho who you swore spent more time under cars than under those neon lights outside, did motorcycle repairs mainly out of necessity, following the recipes for replacement, so to speak. The locals knew that to see his craftsmanship, mastery and artistry at work, they needed to let him get his hands on a car. Of course, it did not mean that he could not fix bikes, far from that, in fact, over the years and especially after another mechanic shop was busted by the forces and forced to close for something or other - no one could ever guess what new crime was added to the list on any given day, Yunho was proud to say that he did not need to consult his hefty stack of manuals for when the most regular clients came by. But it did still mean that when he found out that he could pass off the task to a new hire, he did it in a split second, without sparing it a single thought.

As such, it was you, your beloved corner in the workshop, and a tranquillity under those buzzing fluorescent bulbs lined up on the ceiling. Not talking much, mainly business, occasionally sharing a laugh with your coworkers. They were easy to like, that much you had gathered over the months of being paid in shelter, food, water, and whatever else you needed so long as you kept on working to keep the brutes of Night City happy and the engines roaring. While the other guy in charge, Choi Jongho, an initially unreadable, unpredictable man who appeared in the store at random and mainly handled the ‘financials’, whatever it meant and you sure as all things bad were not about to get your nose in that side of the business, was somewhat less cordial with you, your nonchalance when it came to social interaction had put him at ease, along with, how he had it, your hands that told your story. Interesting what he could spot under the machine grease and fading ink.

It was another timeless day where Jongho was out for what he called ‘negotiations’ - again you did not need to know what it meant so long as the parts kept coming, Yunho was messing about with an old mustang that the customer said could be changed according to the mechanic’s own tastes, and you were idle, having just completed a re-flash of an engine control unit for a rider who apparently had nothing to lose and let you fully reconfigure his precious in the hopes of improving rideability. Same old for you, but nevertheless exciting when a new person gets so vulnerable so as to give their bike up with only faith in their hands, and in yours.

Wheeling the bike away from the main platform, you parked it right at the empty section by the brick wall lining the inner part of the garage, the aftermath of a miniature spring clean you had carried out to prep the workspace for a higher volume of bikes coming through. After patting the seat, as if lulling the machine into a slumber, you covered it with a tarp to protect it from any other dust or sparks - and subconsciously, from curious eyes if there were any that would peek into the shop. You stood up straight, taking the towel from your shoulder and attempting to wipe off the remains of your work, though much like your boss, who was now humming some random tune that he probably heard at one of the underground clubs, took pride in each stain, each streak of dirt. It was a reminder that you were here, you were present and alive, and that you were doing what others could never do exactly like you could. If anything, it was a breath of fresh air, the only one that could be ever taken in any Sector, in any City that existed in this nation, and you were almost convinced that this spread to the whole world.

Finding the stool on wheels that apparently used to belong to a nearby barbershop until that closed down, you sat down and sighed, rocking side to side by repeatedly pushing yourself with your feet before getting tired of the motion and rolling across to a workbench that you and Yunho had managed to craft out of a multi-shelved storage unit abandoned on the street, clearly another Sector’s kind donation to the local community, and you were not too proud nor picky. Picking up a brake pedal - a part off a ruined Kawasaki Ninja 2H/R that the universe threw into your arms after the wreck and helped you salvage, somewhat out of respect for the beast that it had been in its heyday, somewhat because you wondered if you could make it work on a horrific Frankenstein’s monster hybrid someday, or another bike of the same make, you twisted it, metal glinting white. The weight of memories, the feeling of it pressing against the foot despite the thick layers of rubber on the boot. Everything about that bike was as hypnotising as a dancing open flame, stunning, an engineering masterpiece, and one that you were praying to revisit, re-experience even if it was the last thing you were to ever do. Perhaps in a distant dream. Replacing the component in a top drawer of the bench, you got to work on signing off on the work completed, not that anyone even had a legal signature anymore, it was more of a quick doodle to hint at the work completed, just in case if the rider were to find themselves too far away, and had no method of fixing faults and could not recall the mods made. As if that would ever happen; you exhaled sharply, finishing the swift sketch and folding the paper in half, then into quarters and dropping the pen to let it hit the back wall. It was suspiciously peaceful at the OC, you concluded, unsettling. Only Yunho going about his business, the artificial cylindrical suns, and the neon climbing from the outside and coating the front entrance to the garage in shades of blue, purple and magenta. 

You waited in suspense, having caught the echoes of an engine in the far distance - still a few too many blocks away from you to determine what the source of it was exactly, but nevertheless, your instincts and the obvious approach of the sound was telling you that you were soon going to find out. Shutting your eyes, you made out an odd stuttering, reminiscent of a coughing fit in a human, as if the air system was out of tune, totally whack on the poor vehicle. The heart ached. Who could possibly mistreat a bike in such a way? Clutching onto the fabric of your black cargo trousers that you had decided would be something of a uniform for you, you listened on, confused. The rumble was familiar, albeit torn up and in need of a fix. Nonetheless, this was a powerful steed, a respectable monster that you could not wait to dissect and reassemble. Hands beginning to burn with excitement, heart starting to race, you stared off into the wall, waiting for the customer to arrive and made your guesses as to what the motorcycle could be like any mechanic in need of a fun pastime would. If you guessed correctly, you were in for an exhilarating time. 

Soon enough, you heard the bike grind to a halt outside of the shop, and the thump of feet hitting the concrete. Not yet looking up, you waited for the figure to approach and cross the line that marked the end of the driveway and the beginning of the garage. Hearing Yunho make a move to roll out from under the car, evidently after having seen the boots form below and recognising them, you began your own sign of common courtesy and moved to turn and stand from the stool.

“Good time of day, welcome to Outlaw Customs how may I-”

“Rear wheel is busted and the mudguard’s wrecked on the right edge, and the spark plugs need replacing - totally fouling. Can you do that in two hours? I’m on a tight schedule.

You froze, the politeness caught in your throat and fizzling out to be replaced with an astonishment at the crudeness. Raising your head to let yourself inspect the man before you fully, you found that he looked every bit like the arrogance that had oozed from the first words he spoke to you. The flashy black and orange outfit, the glimmering belt buckle, the damn chains… the usual lowlife from a gang who had nothing better to do than to be the pretty boy. Slowly, your hope for the particular bike you had placed mental bets on dissipated, to be replaced by a wish that this hoodlum had a standard no-name, beat up and totally not worth the money ride that you could half-ass and let him disappear.

With a sigh, you heaved yourself forward, approaching the biker with a cold resolve and purposefully taking your time with every movement, seeing as the less you had to speak, the higher were the chances that you were not going to cuss this man out and focus on the work you had set out for you. Knowing the bikers from these parts, either they were too knowledgeable and could diagnose correctly enough, or they were so utterly wrong that you wanted to bash their head in. Time would tell which one of the two this guy was. Before you could get a word in, much to your fortune, Yunho was by your side and wiping his hands to give the black-haired man a firm handshake. You noted that the visitor was shorter than your boss, giving you a slight inner satisfaction for an unknown reason, but you bit any remarks back and remained stone faced, seeing as you were not sure just how hostile this man was going to be towards you.

“Seonghwa, long time no see!” your boss greeted the man who now had a name, very animated, amiable. You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head in a silent question.

“I see you have a new hire. Business doing well?” being addressed in third person was unsettling, but it was better than attempting to hold eye contact with the biker who gave you the urge to forget professionalism and throw a punch at lightning speed. It was hilarious how quickly your instincts returned to you in such circumstances.

“Guess you could say that, thanks to her, mainly.” with a playful smugness Yunho responded, placing a hand on your shoulder. If you did not know better, you would think that he was showing off, but his glance at you, a quick check, and his gestures made you think of your brother. Bittersweet, but still a fond series of chapters.

“Oh?” it was impossible to tell whether Seonghwa was mocking you or just taking the piss of the tenseness that he brought with him, but the bugger dared to pretend to be pleased with your presence, nearly making you scowl. But you were too good at treating people with an unnerving neutrality, so an unperturbed mechanic ready to inspect the ride you remained, much to the biker’s dissatisfaction.

You could tell that he put up a front of sorts, an attention-seeking, egoistic and merciless front, the presentation of the mentality of a murderer on the road, the man who would not hesitate to lead you into a ruin just for laughs. It was always fun to dismantle the nerve cells of such bastards; all you needed was his bike. His eyes found yours quickly enough, confident, unwavering, and your lips curled into a close-mouthed smile as if you were not just pondering the destruction of his ego. A flash of what could only be described as curiosity passed over his irises, and you swore you saw his pupils adjust as if they were a camera lens ready to capture you. His gaze travelled down your body and back up again, studying you, taking you in, settling on the tattoos that adorned your forearms and were revealed by you having pushed up the sleeves of the black turtleneck you were wearing. What was he searching for, you asked yourself before you noticed the solitary, dangling earring on his left ear discovering a single silver feather on its end. Of course he had to be a Blue Bird. Of course he had to be a so-called peace keeper of the city. No wonder he was so full of himself, at least upon first meeting. Now you really wanted to see his bike.

“Motor master, I tell you. Can sort out your beauty in no time.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Seonghwa squinted, earning an eye roll from your boss.

“Got you, yeah. Anyways, meet Y/N,” the man turned to you once again, seeing how your expression remained unchanged, “she’ll be finding common ground with your bike from now on. “Noticing how neither of you spoke nor made a move to greet, Yunho raised his hands and continued while ambling back to the car, “Now, now, don’t talk over one another, you will have plenty of time to chat.”

“So,” you began, not wishing to remain unproductive any longer and wanting to rid yourself of this client as soon as possible, “Seongh-”

“Mars.”

“Mars?”

“You address me as Mars.” he commanded, crossing his arms, the corner of his lip curling up as you searched for the right response, but quickly falling as you suppressed the desire to sneer and merely adjusted yourself to the pesky, petty demands. You had met worse, much worse than the urban chic version of hierarchy and names. Mars was something you could deal with easily enough, and gave you a lot more insight than Seonghwa could imagine.

“Mars, care to show me your bike?”

“Mm.  Follow me, Y/N.” he emphasised your name, as if the fact that you did not have a title nor a nickname gave him some odd power trip - to be frank, it would not be surprising if this actually was the case.

As you followed him out to the front, you noticed his gait was ever so slightly out of balance, a miniscule limp, likely following an injury. Again, something so common with your customers, but made you soften up the tiniest bit - in some senses Seonghwa reminded you of a wild animal that was pretending to be strong. Frustrating, yes, but he was out there trying his best to survive in the way that he knew and could. Much like everybody else, including yourself. You kept your gaze trained on the man’s back as you walked on until you very quickly found yourself right in front of the beast whose roar you had heard from all that distance away. You broke into a full grin, making Seonghwa’s brows knit together as he became perplexed. As it turned out, your prediction was more than right, and before you was a gorgeous, sleek, though having seen some battles, Suzuki Hayabusa. Customised, adored and kept pristine from what you could see. The damage that the motorised excellence had sustained looked to be new, perhaps even acquired a mere couple of hours ago, but other than that the steed was the closest you had seen to true love in Night City. It was clear that despite Seonghwa offering not the best impression, the bike told a different story, and as you crouched down to briefly inspect it at proximity, you nearly gasped. Each valve, each tiny detail was treated with kindness and affection, as if this man spent every spare moment only caring for it. The paint did made you want to giggle, however. Aside from the signature hanja for peregrine falcon, purposefully highlighted with neat strokes of paint to highlight the engineering finesse and power contained in the supreme machine, the motorcycle was completed in a dual tone, with the majority of the body done in a midnight black, and the detailing and smaller body components being done in a copper orange - stunning complement to the outfit of the rider, a full unit of owner and two-wheeler. One body, one mind. If you could start your first impression here, your thoughts of Seonghwa would be a lot more friendly, you determined. But that was the beauty of being a mechanic, you got to know people a lot closer, in secret, unknown to them. This man had a soul on fire. A soul he was attempting to hide, a soul that manifested itself in one of the fastest production motorcycles. And a soul that most certainly knew what was wrong with its metal body - the diagnoses were pleasantly accurate.

“What are you smiling for?”

“Hm, let’s get this beauty in the garage, yeah?” 

He obliged, but still did not let you touch the vehicle as he pushed it along until you told him where to leave it. Occupying an old armchair right by the platform where you fixed the bike in place, Seonghwa watched your every move, scrutinised you as you started your work on the Busa, impatient. It was customary for the bikers that came to OC to remain here like a spouse waiting for their loved one to come out of surgery, but his predator-like focus was beginning to get unsettling and ruined your concentration. You could not speak to the bike in front of you, you could not gain its trust while its owner was staring you down like you were about to tear everything apart and turn the motorcycle into scraps. Letting a tool fall onto the mat that you had rolled down on the floor, you raised your head an deadpanned to the man, catching him off-guard:

“It’ll be three hours since I expect you want the guard done up all pretty. Get me jjajangmyeon from the place down the street and I might speed it up to your optimistic two.”

Yunho’s guffaw resonated across the shop as he heard your statement and imagined the shocked look on Seonghwa’s face upon receiving the daring request. Indeed, the man was more than taken aback, curious as to how important you deemed yourself to talk to him in such style. But at the same time, it was beyond amusing. The cheek, the attitude behind a cold and monotone sentence was alluring. There was something more to you than what Yunho had proposed, and that was reassuring. Perhaps you did have the right energy to find common ground with his priceless Suzuki. Still, the first word to escape him as he recoiled from the jab was an airy question of:

“What?” quickly countered with:

“They do late night deals. Half price. If you get there within the next half hour that is. Get Yunho and yourself a bowl while you’re at it and I’ll get the job done to fit your busy schedule and be enviable.”

“Boss, are you hungry?” you called out to Yunho, who was still giggling from under the vehicle, making it appear as if the car itself was caught in a comedy.

“Aye.”

“Done then, Mars, would you be a dear and do an orbit there and back?” you could not stop yourself from bringing his chosen, given or acquired through a brutal climb name into the mix. The opportunity was just too much of a low hanging fruit to not take it.

You were playing with fire, that much was certain. You could tell that he was contemplating putting you on a hitlist; not something that you were not used to, seeing as you were still in a client-facing role even if a lot of your time was spent with silent steely beauties. But you took a risk with Seonghwa, you ceased to be careful, spurred on by the euphoric prospect of treating the customised, souped up and customised Hayabusa, and took a shot in the dark with your forwardness. As the blood that was pumping in your ears got louder with every passing moment, and you began to doubt whether this was the right call to make to get some along time with the steed, Seonghwa stirred after his ponderings. Rising from the armchair, the chains that adorned his neck glinting under the lights, he stretched more for show than for comfort and exhaled through his nose, suppressing a chuckle.

“Ask for jjamppong on top of that and I will snap your arms in half.”

“You are too kind.”  catching him mid turn, you responded, making him look back, and give you a playful, mischievous glance over his shoulder, almost boyish, as if the two of you were good friends that were used to the banter.

Releasing a breath that you did not realise you had been holding after the man disappeared from view, you returned to the Suzuki that was gracing your vision. Yunho’s laughter had subsided, and once again the buzz of the lights was the only thing that was between you and total silence. Diving into your work, you read the story etched into the curves, the miniscule dents, the scratches that were invisible to the naked eye but still there, hinting at just how much the bike and, evidently, the rider went through. The fixes were going to be complicated, but nothing that you could not do with what you had in the shop. You rested a hand on the engine, thinking of your next move, and of the dark glimmering orbs of the biker whose soul was still right here with you, watching, inspecting, but attempting, bit by bit, to trust that you would do the mechanical masterpiece justice. Of course you would, you were getting a late dinner for it after all. Besides, it was easy to love such a stunning bike, especially when you could see that it was truly loved by its owner. A soft smile on your face, you leaned forward and got back to dismantling a broken detail from the main body, already excited for the inner workings you would see behind it; the closest thing to true light that one could get in the sadistic, somnolent city of neon and night.

After the first appointment came another, and another, and more after that. The Busa almost became your personal project as what had previously been menial tasks carried out by an amateur mechanic and devilish rider, now fell to you. You knew this motorcycle better than you knew all of your tattoos, that much you were sure of. From the piping to the seating to the turbocharger you had installed, it was clear enough that Seonghwa was more than willing to let you tinker with the bike as much as he wanted you too, which with every unscheduled drop in became longer and longer. At times, Yunho would be there to participate in some idle chatter, other times, it was merely you and him on your own, either in a perfect stillness, with only the bike making the music and talking for you both, or with the occasional question thrown in either direction. 

You had found out bit by bit that Seonghwa was, as you had assumed, a member of the Blue Birds - the local crew of vigilantes, from what your boss and your ghost of a boss had told you. Brutal and unforgiving, they had taken it upon themselves to maintain something of an order in the district, though you never asked for the details on how exactly they did it. You had learned over your lifetime to ask less, unless it was about mechanics; that was always a safe bet, and a point that you would always return to if you felt the conversation going into a direction that you did not wish to explore. All other inquiries normally answered themselves from what you noticed - for instance, the limp was now gone, to be replaced by rather grim looking knuckles. But again, no comment from you. It was above your pay grade. Seonghwa, at some point, had also caught onto your avoidance and tendency to cling onto bikes for conversation, but had taken it upon himself to probe further and further through what you considered to be a strong enough barrier, to figure out why exactly was one of your tattoos on the right forearm a mark that he had avoided at all costs when he was still a youngster back in the place he used to go home, many kilometres away, now reachable through highways to hell. He could not ask directly, not when you could clog up his air filters or ruin the braking system right then and there, but curiosity was getting the better of him as the weeks turned into months, and you were doing your regular check up on the Busa.

“What’s your favourite bike, Y/N?”

“Why the sudden question?”

“Why answer a question with a question?”

“Hm… yours is pretty good.” you tried to brush his inquiry away, even though your mind instantly went to the answer, and remained stuck. You could hear the engine resonate in your chest, and could feel the handles in your palms, as you gripped onto them, tighter, tighter and turned. The feeling of a machine coming to life right beneath you, ready to race into the darkness and obey your every instruction. Turn after turn after turn. Somewhere along that race, you lost your soul, and longed for it. Blinking slowly, you hoped that Seonghwa would leave the conversation where it was, but knew that he was going to do everything except that.

“No but really. Every mechanic, every biker has their favourites. Hell, even Yunho has one and he doesn’t really work on them anymore.” leaning forward to rest his head in the palm of his hand as his elbow positioned itself on his right thigh, he focused on your response, down to the body language and each one of your cells could feel it.

“Hard to pick.” Again, vague, but you wanted to get away, hide yourself. The sensation of the brakes, how the loyal companion to your every conquest could glide across the streets and halt just when you wanted it to, make impossible turns and let you caress the ground through thick gloves that have seen the wildest tricks and fastest getaways… it was all far too vivid. Too much for you to bring up while you were trying to work. Swallowing your spit, you shook your head slightly as Seonghwa commented that you were not responding to him.

“What do you want me to say?”

“What you are thinking about.”

“And what am I thinking about?” abandoning the Busa, you gave the body a wipe with towel and dropped it to the floor, raising yourself up you fell onto the spinny stool, and eyed Seonghwa right back, despising the smirk that was threatening to break out on his lips that were far to soft and lush for a damn outlaw.

“The bike. Your bike. You used to ride, didn’t you?”

“...Hm.”

“I can feel it. No need to pretend.” he had already formed his suspicions. In fact, he had put two and two together a long enough time ago. All he needed was a confirmation, a mention of that same bike that he had heard of, a name to a face that had haunted him for as long as he was leading the Blue Birds.

“Yeah. I did. Not anymore though.” your voice grew colder, dismissive as you turned to look out at the neon lights. A flicker caught your attention - the sign for the Japanese restaurant that opened and closed only when the owner wanted to was caught in a starlike sparkling, the fluctuating light making it seem as though the luminescence was alive. Alive. Curious choice of words.

“What was it?”

“It?”

“Let’s start with the bike.”

“Is this an interrogation?”

“Just curious, no biggie.”

Afraid of what you could say if you were to dive into elaborating your memories and sentimentality, you stood up and walked to the work bench, retrieving the component that you had brought with you to the city, and kept it with you at all times. Giving it one last look, you strode over to an expectant and enthusiastic Seonghwa, motioning for him to stretch out his hands. As you watched him inspect the item, turning it and checking each nook and cranny, your heart felt heavy. Was it really that long since the brake pedal was attached to the swift stunner? A glorious ink black, with piping of the skeleton completed in a vibrant poisonous green. A nightmare. Your love, your priceless dream.

“A Kawasaki?” he whispered half to himself. So it was how he had indeed attempted to predict.

“Kawasaki Ninja H2R.”

“Two hundred and twenty-eight kilowatts without ram-air?”

“I played around with that.”

“Sure you did. Wow. Really that’s pretty.”

“Mhm.” you took the brake pedal from Seonghwa’s hands, returning it back to the drawer. 

Suddenly, it all felt too real. The last moments raw, the feeling that the motorcycle was still with you, still outside, parked and patiently waiting for you, was too clear in your head that you had attempted to train to believe that that stage in your life was over. Done. Finished. You had crossed the metaphorical finish line and that was all there was to it. But Seonghwa was not letting up, instead choosing to dig into the wound and watch as blood began to trickle.

“Now that explains it.”

“What?” you knew you were going to regret asking, but did so still.

“The tattoo.”

“What tattoo?” your eyes narrowed as you propped yourself against the bench and crossed your arms.

“The one on your arm. The right one.” he pointed as if he just won a game of spot the difference, leaving you irritated.

“What of it? I have many.”

“Not one that belongs to the Black Pirates. I am no fool, Y/N. I’ve seen the mark before and truthfully, I am surprised you are still alive.”

“I am too.” you huffed, finding your boots to be awfully interesting.

“Sacrificed the bike?”

You did not answer. You did not want to answer because it was clear that Seonghwa could answer the question for you. And for that, you loathed him in that given moment, despite overall finding his company to be almost comforting in recent weeks. In reality, the Kawasaki saved you from utter demise. Sliding on its side across the highway at record speed, sparks flying in the air and the screeching penetrating through your helmet to embed itself into your bones, the bike made it seem as though you were truly done for when, as luck would have it, you had gotten away with only a few scratches and a lot of foliage clinging to the torn up leather you had worn. As you had made your leap off the out of control beauty, the hero fighting its last battle it collided with cement to split and crumble into smithereens, the fuel tank pierced and beginning to seep out the fluid. A couple of gunshots later, and the bike was caught aflame, and all you could see from the group below where you had fallen, was the occasional licks, smoke and more sparks, your soul departing the metal body. The brake pedal, by some odd circumstance, had flown off and landed in your direction, nearly crashing into your visor. You had cradled it in your hands, sliding down on your back further and further to the moist earth beneath the highway until you were totally concealed from all viewpoints, hidden by pillars and rusted armature. When you were sure that those who you had called family, called friends, called comrades sped away, confident that you were there splattered on the cement and roasting, thanks to the bag that had been left on the seats serving practically as a dummy, you had begun to weep, never knowing for what, but certain that you were not yourself anymore. You had died.

Unbeknownst to you, as your vision blurred and mist settled to accompany the rising melancholia, Seonghwa had risen from the armchair and cautiously stepped closer and closer to you, until he was barely an arm’s reach away. Gaze drifting, you only took notice of the change when the knuckles came into view. Those bruised, bloodied knuckles, obviously treated by a person who knew nothing about caring for themselves. Silly man. A silly, silly man who wanted to put up a front; a front that might just have been yours, and your family’s ruin.

“Hey, are you-”

“No.” you retorted before he could accentuate what you deemed to be your weakness. Pushing yourself off the bench you were about to make a beeline for somewhere, anywhere, make up and excuse, but felt a gentle hand wrap around your wrist. Shocked, you stilled yourself and attempted to tug, only feeling the grip getting stronger until Seonghwa pulled you towards him, so that you would be face to face.

“I-... I’m sorry. I know how much this hurts and-”

“Do you?” cold, you hissed.

“...I can see it. I am sorry for your loss. And I am sorry for making you relive it.”

A smile, ones that graced those who had little to lose and little to wish for except perhaps a restart as another person, in another body, in another time and life, melted over you as you tested the strength of Seonghwa’s hold another time. Not budging. You did not dare to check his expression, for you knew that it would make you crack. 

“Do you need any-”

“One more word and I will snap your arms in half.” recalling your first meeting, you muttered the empty threat.

“You are too kind.” he echoed, deliberating whether to give himself up to the urge and pull you closer. 

So it was you who he had heard about after all. The demon on the roads, Icarus who had gotten too close to the sun of power, and was violently shoved from the pedestal of grace and familial leadership into the torment, into the abyss, stripped of all you knew and had. He had learned about you through fable-like gossip that his childhood friend, who caught up with the wrong crowd and became a member of the Black Pirates had shared over a couple of drinks when Seonghwa had visited. Same night he had shared that he wanted to leave, but as it had turned out, he was someone not quite lucky to make an escape and someone who Seonghwa was meant to forget. But besides the passing of another, someone who he could not save even though he tried, never did he think that the beast on the Kawasaki would be you. The you that he had come to know. The sensitive, albeit snarky and strong-headed you. The you who was a gifted mechanic, a woman who breathed the craft, the art, the science, the life that was that of a biker. Never before did he see anyone treat the Busa with such respect, nor make such accurate guesses about the fights and chases that it had participated in. Looking back, it should have been obvious that you had a history. You knew more than you ever let on. Perhaps you knew Seonghwa like he knew the streets of Night City, and now, your true past.

“The… yeah the Hayabusa’s done. By the way.” you tried to veer the conversation away, and fortunately this time, Seonghwa agreed. 

“Thank you.”

“Standard rate.”

“Yep.”

“Everything is sort-”

“May I-”

You shot him an aggressive, piercing gaze, threatened by the change in tone. Far from his usual upbeat lilt, it was deeper, slower, sticky and sweet like molasses and you did not want to get pulled in. You clambered for air, for any relief away from his man, the man who had so openly shared his soul with you. He stammered and cleared his throat, finally letting go of your wrist. The sharp change in temperature was nearly unwelcome as the ghost of his soft fingers remained, caressing your flesh.

“Would you want to join a patrol now?” the inquiry, hanging in the air, dangling like a treat as the adrenaline rushed across your body. You had to feel guilty, surely, after having mourned the loss of your beloved Kawasaki and just revisited its final minutes, you had no right to be looking forward to another rush. You did not need it. You should not need it nor want it. And yet, you found yourself nodding almost immediately, much to Seonghwa’s delight. A reassuring warm hand on your upper arm, a lean forward letting Seonghwa catch your glossy eyes, him asking when you can close up shop and you mumbling that you were done for the day, or night. It was alway nighttime. The soothing blanket of navy blue, sleepy over the streets that you were about to explore under Seonghwa’s guidance. 

As the dark haired man settle on the bike and appeared to adjust his wristwatch, holding his helmet while you found a spare displayed on one of the shelves - showed marks of wear and tear but good enough for a couple rides more, he felt his heartbeat turn erratic, and what was normally a bearable thrum turn into an erratic, unbelievable pace that only amplified in his skull and quickened once your arms were wrapped around his torso, holding onto him, your body pressed against his. If there was ever a hazard on the road for him, it was this. Your intoxicating closeness that made him want to ride forever more, never stopping if that meant that you could stay exactly where you were. How you were. It was surreal that the rider, the legend that he had grown to respect from the tales, was the woman that he had now grown to love.

As he sped down the streets, the neon had shone down on you in different colours, a bolder, more optimistic palette that made you beam right back. You clutched onto Seonghwa’s leather jacket, seeking more support as the exhilaration began to overwhelm you. It had been far too long since the last time you felt the wind hit you in this way, you felt the engine rushing you on between the trees of the concrete jungle, the windows and doors, the stray passers-by zooming right past you as the bike accelerated. It was not the same, of course, nothing could ever be, but the feeling, that distant feeling and warm memory was enough to remind you that you indeed were alive and you had the future to look to. A future that Seonghwa wanted to help you find. Hugging him tighter, you let yourself be carried away from the shop you closed up, away from the pleasant routine you had aimed to settle into all the way towards a moment of freedom and that familiar rush.

When you arrived at the destination, which turned out to be an abandoned parking lot under an equally barren road, illuminated only by a single streetlight with two bulbs, you noticed that there were a few people already gathered, including some familiar faces who were chatting away while wheeling their rides out of what you would describe as some concealed warehouse into better starting positions. Feeling a wave of shyness, you did not move as Seonghwa stopped the bike and stretched his legs out to balance it. Only after you sense more movement, and approaching footsteps did your arms snake away on their own accord and tug at your helmet. The man seemed to sense this since, as soon as his own helmet was off, he turned to you to whisper a quick “you okay?”. You feebly nodded, and found the ground with your military-style boots. 

Quickly enough, a man approached Seonghwa, and the two exchanged a handshake and a couple of words. You recognised him fast enough - while he had not come to the shop nearly enough to be considered a regular, and judging from how heavily modded his MV Agusta Rush was it was clear that he preferred to do most, if not all repairs himself, Yeosang was a memorable figure. His hair, approaching shoulder length, and the long black and red leather jacket with cutouts that flowed behind him as he hit top speed made him stand out to you, and his endearing disposition and innate warmth as he discussed all matters within your comfort made him something of a friend. He waved to you, excited that you had decided to join the patrol, agreeing with Seonghwa that it was an honour to see you on the urban tracks. You bit your lower lip, wondering just how far word about you had travelled after your supposed passing, and whether this word would travel right back down to the south again after your impulsive appearance right here, among the Blue Birds.

“So you riding with us? Right?” Yeosang finally addressed you, his voice jolting you out of your musings. 

“I suppose so,” after giving Seonghwa one final look and receiving a reassuring smile, you responded.

“Great, then, follow me.” As Yeosang spun on his heel and led you towards the warehouse, you let yourself wonder out loud.

“Were you all waiting for me or something?”

“Well, yes and no. We’ve heard stories, then Mars has really taken to you and well, that comes with a lot of getting to know you, and then Yunho shared a couple things-”

“What in the-”

“Don’t be too surprised. We keep our tabs on everyone. Just in case.” he chuckled and elaborated on the miniature dossier that had accumulated - he was not going to rat out the fact that it was mainly his leader not realising that he was discussing you at longer time periods than was customary for a standard biker and mechanic relationship.

“Guess I’m a bit rusty in that department.” you pondered the networks, the informers that had existed back in your town, and how sometimes you even had to ‘do some less than appealing kinds of convincing’ to get updates, but shook the image away as you entered the dimly lit warehouse.

“Let’s hope you aren’t when it comes to riding.” You stood back, letting Yeosang turn on another lamp, something probably found in a trash pile but still functional enough to be a source of illumination, only to reveal a breath-taking beauty. 

“Now, of course it isn’t the Kawasaki,” Yeosang paused, patting the seat of the black and red motorcycle that you could sense was studying you, checking if you were strong enough to handle it, “but it is still quite impressive. Aprilia RSV4-”

“1100 Factory. Grunty engine, sweet chassis. Good engineering.”

“You can say that again. Here, give it a try.”

You stepped towards the breathing machine. The beast in slumber, awaiting a boost, a nudge awake and it was ready to roar and leave all those in this lot behind. It was a captivating system of mechanisms, all working in unison to create what was going to be a revival for you. A revival on the road. As you sat down on the bike, feeling its energy ooze through you and appreciating its almost youthful vigour, your mind traversed its maze-like avenues back to the Kawasaki. This was far from your precious. Far from who you had been. Far from the soul that you had lost back then. Gorgeous, without a doubt, an astounding piece of work that the streets would be grateful for gracing them, but that was how you had to treat it. As much as a part of you desired a renaissance, that same thrill, it was obviously unachievable. Nothing was the same, nor could be, including you. The place where the tattoo of the Black Pirates still decorated your skin ached with dull throbs as you leaned forward and tested your movements, your fluidity with the motorcycle. This was going to do; this had to do for that one last thrill before you could say goodbye to the dream of re-experience - the final nail in the coffin of a phantom that had you delusionally hoping for that sense of belonging and sense of being undefeatable to return to you. The Aprilia was the Aprilia, and you were you. The need for speed, the desire to rule the roads and exist in discord and chaos had died with the Kawasaki Ninja H2R, and the you now was searching for peace. The peace that you could read in Seonghwa’s eyes. The peace that he was offering in the form of unconditional support, in the form of pieces of his own soul to ignite the one you were patiently cultivating in your hollow chest. To let the blaze warm you, nurture the affection you yearned for, and let you breathe again. You gripped the handles of the bike, and turned on the ignition, casting a permission-seeking side glance to Yeosang, who merely nodded. As it rolled out of position and you flipped the foot that anchored it in balance, and let yourself be regarded by Seonghwa and his fellow bikers, the revelation finally came, that this was the new life that you had hoped for. The life that you had wanted to experience, not a reworking, but a clean slate. A new home that you hoped to discover in Night City.

Once everyone was in position, and Yeosang gave you a helmet that was fitted with a communication system that let the Blue Birds converse while on patrol, you followed Seonghwa out, having been given a designated position and role in the formation. It felt like the old times, but in reverse. Instead of organising havoc, the group was organising peace. Instead of planning heists, the group was hoping to stop crime that happened under the noses of those who purposefully disregarded it, focusing on new age delinquency that manifested itself as banal expression and creativity. The city was different now, it had to be. Suddenly, you were astounded and amazed by it, by the intricacies of every corner, the affection with which the citizens of the sector had decorated their storefronts and windows, even though if a government-arranged bust was to be organised, and the forces, nicknamed the Guardians were to march down these streets, these homes would be the first to be annihilated. Risking their own lives these marvellous people decided to spread joy and share colour. There was hope in Night City, there was hope in this district where the desire to live and thrive could not be put out. 

Blue, purple, magenta, pink, orange, yellow, red, green, purest white and inkiest black, every shade and every saturation was jumping out at you even through the visor. You felt at ease, one with your surroundings as Seonghwa’s soothing voice issued the final command before the group were to split, leaving you, Seonghwa and Yeosang alone and zooming down the central street, empty from the lack of business after a particularly nasty raid. You noted remnants of shattered glass and a charcoal black storefront, one of the downsides of living in an area where law was more questionable than local dealings. But even then, you felt more alive than before. 

“How are you feeling, Red?” a nickname thought of on the spot for ease of callouts thanks to the accents on the Aprilia.

“Good, Mars.”

“Good?” Yeosang echoed, and you could swear you heard an amused giggle from his mic.

“Very good, Greece,” you would never not be amused with the choice of name for your friend, the word ‘sculpture’, to highlight his heavenly visuals, had apparently been deemed too long to work.

Seonghwa could hear the joy in your voice, stronger than he had ever experienced it before, even when you joked around with him or revealed to him a particularly high quality part that Jongho had produced by some unmentionable connections. Previously, there had been barriers that you had accumulated with each season of your new existence, hardened by your trials and tribulations as a person who technically was not supposed to exist. Less talk, more business. Less emotion, more control over your behaviour, your being in the effort of maintaining an image of strength, much like he had done when he had first met you.

When Seonghwa had first laid eyes on you, you seemed to be the closest thing there was to a human version of ice. You appeared to be dismissive and disinterested in him, in what he could bring, and that was vexing. He, as Mars of the Blue Bird gang, had gotten used to have the room freeze as he walked in, only to combust into hot flames an instant after, but definitely not come face to face with someone who was sombre, and with their lack of a reaction made Seonghwa feel as though, in reality, he was not that important. He had made a promise to himself after finding out about the Kawasaki rider of the Black Pirates, that if there was anyone he would listen to and learn from, it would be them. From the technique to the daredevil spirit, that was the kind of rider he had always wanted to be. At the same time, as days turned to weeks turned to months, and the image of you and the rider became one in his mind, Seonghwa came to understand that truly, the rider was an illusion. A fantasy that he had built in his mind that could not compare to the wise woman that had transformed his Hayabusa, and his own heart. He wanted to learn you, and learn anything else with you. And to hear the spark within you, to feel your passion for finding yourself begin to return to you was the final sign that he needed to fully comprehend what he had been searching for. For that smile to never leave your face, for him to bring you food just because, for you to be side by side in this race against harsh reality, fighting the odds and making it through to a land where there was true light, away from the land of neon farce.

As you sped down the neverending roads, checking each turn and alleyway for activity, an odd trepidation crept into your chest, and fluttered like a moth fighting for its spot on a bulb. The same feeling as when you had been out with your so-called crew, checking the outskirts of your hometown that fateful night. Your inner alarm rolled out of a restless sleep, and began to clang against your brain, once, twice more and more until it became unbearable and you cried out for the group to stop. The unexpected call startled the duo, and they barely had time to process the action as the three of you instinctively skid to a halt, leaving hot trailmarks on the road. A hum. An unsettling hum that came before a certain ruin spread across your surroundings, and you took off your helmet to tune into it in an attempt to decipher anything at all. Seonghwa and Yeosang followed suit, perplexed, contemplating you as you darted from one side to the other turning your head and getting a grasp of what could be the source of the thrum. A revving. A sickening revving in the far distance, picked up by you as you whispered to your team.

“You hear that?”

“Hear what?” Yeosang asked back, running a hand through his hair.

“The hum.”

“Hum?”

“Where are we right now?”

“Southernmost district, kind of outside of Night City, but still our area.” Seonghwa responded promptly, alerted by your concern.

“We need to leave.”

“But the patrol-” Yeosang tried to argue, but you cut him off.

“Now. We need to leave now.”

“Why?”

The engines became even louder, and if you were not going to move now, you would never move again. 

“Surveillance Point South, Guardians Helmets on, MOVE!” you commanded, disregarding any hint of formality as you shoved the helmet back onto your head and twisted the bike to go back. The men followed suit, and in good time, as in one of your mirrors, you saw the first flash of white appear from around the corner.

“GO!”

Bless technology, bless the engineers who crafted these magnificent motorcycles; you were praying and praising every person who had ever contributed to the creation of these beauties, these roaring urban animals as you accelerated to top speed in seconds and swerved down a random street, one that you had no clue where it led to. Calming yourself to the level where you were able to ask a question, you hurriedly shouted into the mic:

“Mars!”

“Turn right at the end, Greece flanks on the left.”

“Gotcha chief.”

“Update on tail?” You continued as the initial wave of automatic movements subsided, and in came the need for fast, adaptive strategy. You were not about to make the same mistakes again. This could not happen. You had to trust yourself, trust Seonghwa and Yeosang. They should not suffer the same way you had done. Ever.

“Five Guardians. Gear - standard. They were not expecting us.” Yeosang communicated back, pressing himself into the motorcycle as the three of you sped down the street only to burst into another and swerve to the appointed direction.

“Well that’s a plus,” you huffed and accelerated more after completing the dangerously sharp turn. The Guardians were quick to repeat the motion, and were aggressively catching up to your trio.

“There’s a highway under construction, we can lose them there.” Seonghwa offered, clearly disturbed by the closeness of the forces, practically breathing down his neck.

“How far?”

“How fast can you go?”

“Lead.” a quick ‘yes’ in agreement, and Seonghwa issued an order:

“Greece, split on the fork and find Crow. If you get a tail then spiral the shit out of them.”

“Aye.”

“Good luck.” With one last wish, serving as a hopefully temporary farewell, Yeosang rolled away his own response blending into static as the connection grew weaker, only to fully break:

“Good lu-”

And just like that, it was you, Seonghwa, and four remaining Guardians, who evidently had decided that Yeosang was not their main target, leaving only one to tail him. You cursed under your breath, and clearly the mic was a lot more sensitive than you had initially expected, because as soon as the utterance left your mouth Seonghwa’s voice reverberated against your eardrums.

“Just a bit more, okay? Trust me we’ll get there-”

A gunshot stops the man mid-sentence, and you blindly followed him as he countersteered to make another sharp turn into a much more narrow street, forcing the group of four to slow down considerably and giving you an extra few valuable seconds. 

“Are guns part of standard gear?” Shocked by the similarity between the gang you had been part of and your present followers, you managed to ask.

“Yes, unfortunately.”

“Well isn’t this a fun time.”

“Glad you are enjoying it. Turn in five then turn left.”

Before you knew it, you were entering the meandering manoeuvre from street to alley to a series of pedestrian passageways, fully expecting Seonghwa to still be by your side, but as you entered another road, zooming ahead, you took note that your partner was nowhere to be seen, along with another two Guardians. The ones behind you, thanks to the maze of stairs and tight spots down the path he had directed you through, the Guardians were trailing behind, the distance having grown to a more secure one, at least until you felt the bike, which you were not totally used to, hit a pothole on the road and start to wobble, forcing you to overreact - counterintuitive to any professional behaviour. Your yelps finally made Seonghwa return through the speakers asking as to what exactly happened. To the best of your ability you choked out the cause of your surprise, while loosening your grip and regaining at least some control by slowly rolling off the throttle.

“I leave you for one second and that happens?”

“Last time I was alone and being chased I-”

“Did not have me, to your left-” As you had balanced yourself out and returned to breaking any speed limit imaginable, you noted the familiar black and orange Hayabusa merge into the lane to your left, followed by one Guardian.

“Where is their friend?”

“Took an arrow to the knee,” out of the corner of your visor’s allowable view, you saw Seonghwa accelerate until he was a little in the front and he waved what could only be a particularly menacing pistol.

“That is one hell of a bow.” You pondered when and where  he could have produced a gun from, and finally realised why most of the time he kept his jacket zipped up unless he was off vigilante duty.

As you approached the winding highways-to-be, you swore you were barely breathing. With only three Guardians remaining on your tail it should be easier, an escape should feel closer, but you could not settle into any form of focus, instead only speeding towards an oblivion. Another one, your final one. The fear that you had been living with, the repetition that you had wrongfully longed for, was it about to happen? You fell quiet as you saw the road curve higher and higher to another level, and followed its flow. Seonghwa let you flow forwards, turning back to return the gunfire that the white-clad spawns of the so-called law restarted, missing one by a few centimetres, but in this way forcing them to enter the same state from which you recovered. Luckily, they did not have as reflexive of a control over the vehicle, and toppled to veer and hit one of the borders, denting it and giving up the chase. Two to go.

Entranced by the openness of the location, you raised your head to find a night sky, clearer than the one you were used to back in Night City. It was similar to the countryside around your hometown, how the stars came around to glint and help you recollect your thoughts by emphasising that everything on this earth, compared to the infinite expanse of the universe, was small enough to brush off. It had always made you feel briefly light, relieved, free. How you wished you could fly-

“Ready to fly?”

“Literally?” you cried out, returning back to the matter at hand.

“I sure hope you remember how to recover from a high jump on a bike because that is our only chance.”

“What the-”

“Three.”

“Two.

“One.”

“May the suspension system be ever in our favour,” you muttered, embracing the oncoming drop as you avoided the cones that marked the end of the construction zone and led into a drop onto the highway below.

Your mind cleared, and you focused on the head level balance point in front of you, which just so happened to be the straight line of the horizon. Your body moved back to ease the weight on the front end, and as you saw the drop come into view, raised yourself up on the foot pegs and pushed with all your might, bending your legs into the motion as you felt the suspension respond to you and compress before rising again. Instantaneously, you blipped the throttle, giving the Aprilia that final burst, propelling you and lifting you right when the front wheel hit the jumping point you had marked out. Keeping your head up, you let yourself feel the arc that you made together with the bike, eagerly watched your surroundings blur as you continued your calculated fall, and giggled as you heard Seonghwa let out a loud proclamation of “awesome!” as you landed the jump and remained fully in control of the temperamental steed. 

The Guardians had stopped themselves before the leap, clearly not having the borderline death-seeking move programmed into their ridiculous training schemes, nor into their own obedient, law-abiding cells. With the southernmost district, and as such, the Guardian patrol point long behind you, it was now a matter of finding a place to slow down and figure out a safe way home. You laughed airily as the adrenaline egged you on, making you feel like you could take on the entire world, your gang of traitors and snakes, and the masked tyrants that had been chasing you and all that you considered valuable in your new chapter. You survived. Finally, you survived. 

When the empty highway hinted at an exit on the other side, in unspoken agreement the two of you hopped the inexistent border between lanes and swerved into the turn, re-entering the city from a different angle, fully avoiding the southern district. As neon began to occupy your vision once more, the lines of blue, purple, magenta starting to line the streets of your home, you let out a sigh of relief, coming down from the rush of a good chase. As soon as the two of you ensured that there was no hint of Guardians in your vicinity, Seonghwa signalled for you to slow down and stop in a secluded square that was located between the outstretched segments of an abandoned residential block, the doors taped shut with signs proclaiming ‘demolition’ plastered over fading graffiti. 

Hopping off his bike and leaving the helmet and gloves on the seat, he rushed to help you out, the exhaustion from diving headfirst into something that had not been in your active arsenal for a while. Wobbly legs, dizziness and an urge to listen to gravity for once nearly had you stumbling off the bike and onto the cracked pavement, if not for the strong arms, stabilising you by positioning themselves at your waist, and bringing you flush against Seonghwa’s toned body. Through the haze of a numbing fatigue, you could finally make out the slightest tang of gun smoke, blending with an aroma of a sweet perfume, pronounced as he had burned up from the prolonged pressure and thrill. Smoke and vanilla. And you were alive to take it all in. You raised your arms, searching for him, trying to feel out an anchor in the renaissance, clamber out of the ashes that were still coating you in a weight of a past that you had now shed. Fingers flittering across the black tank top, left exposed as he had unzipped the jacket, travelled around his sides to find his lower back and hook themselves together. You let yourself be consumed by the feeling of safety, the feeling of having overcome yourself and finding someone, the one person who was ready to pick you up again. Your body shook as a sob that you were unknowingly holding back flew from your now light heart and into the omniscient night, but all you could feel was warmth. A reliable embrace that was going nowhere, a man who knew who you were, who you had been, and let you decide for yourself who you wanted to become-

“Mars-” you mumbled, pressing your face into Seonghwa in an attempt to let the fabric swallow your emotion.

“-Seonghwa.”

“Huh?” you wanted to look at him, at his dark eyes that held the sky, the universe within them, but the soothing circles that he was drawing on your back as he began to rock gently while keeping you in his arms made you remain in the same position, right against him. With him.

“Seonghwa. Hwa. Whatever nickname you think of but… just. Seonghwa, Y/N. Call me Seonghwa.” you chuckled through the tears that started to decorate your cheeks, earning a confused hum from the biker.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Cheeky.”

“At least we are not threatening each other with grievous bodily harm anymore.” you tried to squeeze him in a way to emphasise your joke, but earned a surprised pained yelp from the man, followed by a pursing of the lips as you darted to face him. 

“Seonghwa?” it was obvious that the new address made him soften considerably, but your worry did not subside. “Are you hurt?”

“It’s nothing really, regular st-”

“Where, Seonghwa, where?” you used his own name against him, forgetting your own overwhelmed state and turning your attention to him.

He was entranced by the way your eyes glistened in the darkness, how the tears that stained your cheeks were only adding to your image. Nothing would make him look differently at you. Nothing ever. And if he had to race against time itself to be able to hold onto you like this, he would do it. He would fight all of the Guardians and Black Pirates combined if it meant that you could smile. You needed to smile. He tried to ease the concern, but the wound that he had acquired during the chase was becoming nearly unbearable. Instead of fighting you, he tilted his head to his left and lifted his arm while keeping the other on your waist. Getting the hint, you flipped the bottom of the cropped jacket and gasped as you saw torn material, reddened, irritated skin, and a mixture of coagulated and still-trickling blood concentrated around where what could only be a bullet grazed Seonghwa’s stunning, tanned skin. 

“What the- and you are just here? Standing? You need treatment, stat!” admonishing his self-disregard, you leaned to inspect the wound more closely, only to have Seonghwa attempt to flip the jacket back and dig his fingers into your side.

“I am fine, I swear-”

“Do you know anyone who can fix this?” not quite in the know of any medical terms, you resorted to treating the wound as though it was a damaged component, except a lot more distressing, and obviously causing a lot more lateral harm than any scratch or even piercing tear could to cold metal. 

“...Not really, no,” after a long pause, he responded. Lowering his arm, Seonghwa returned to his previous hold, except this time, moving until his face was only centimetres away from yours.

“Well then, you know me, I have a first aid kit at my cave.” your voice quivered as you at the man before you. You could tell, he was new too, also reborn from the chaos. Neither of you could predict, but it was obvious that now, that light that you had been chasing was within reach.

“So you can fix bikes and people?”

“Bikes, yes. People? Not really. But I would like for you to see another day please.

“It really isn’t that bad.”

“Then why are you in pain?”

“Because I have been staring at your lips for the past minute and still have not kissed you.”

You blinked once, twice as whatever words were in your throat remained there and fell right back down to be set on fire by what you could only describe as the blowing of multiple fuses. You were not quite sure when the two of you managed to lean so impossibly close to one another, but your arms were fully relaxed, having succumbed to the sensation of his hands dancing across your hips testing the waters, and your vision was occupied by Seonghwa, and Seonghwa alone. His gaze, once again, trailed down from your eyes down to your lips, slow, confident alluring. Ignoring whatever pain he was experiencing, dulling it with a different, more tantalising ache. With your breathing growing more shallow by the second, you were not sure what to expect of Seonghwa in this instant; perhaps more accurately, you were terrified of how this would change your new life. He was taking his time as though he was reading a book, trying to decipher what you were feeling, and while he was more than ready to lean in an destroy what was left of the gap between you, your swift hands that wiped what remained of the moisture on your cheeks and a playful smirk on your lips forced him into a childish pout.

“And you won’t, unless you let me patch you up.”

“And I can kiss you after?”

“...Deal.” to hell with it all, you continued soundlessly.

As rapidly as the moment had developed, it ceased to persist, with Seonghwa detangling himself from you and telling you to grab your helmet while pressing a couple of buttons that were concealed on his wristwatch.

“What about the bike?”

“Yeo will sort out the bike. I just pinged him with the coordinates.”

“You have a spy watch?” amazed, you exclaimed.

“Nifty, huh? Blue Bird exclusive.”

“I need to speak to the engineers in your circle, I need to absorb some skills from them.”

“I can see you’ll be speaking to Yeo more and more soon, then. He is quite the techy guy.”

As you were about to hop onto the bike, you thought once more about the injury, and tapped the already seated Seonghwa on the shoulder. Flipping open his visor, the man moved his chin forward, prompting you to go on.

“Scooch back.”

“But I can-”

“No buts. You are injured, and this is a hazard,” receiving a groan in response, you refused to pause, “besides, I can’t exactly hold on to you now, can I?” 

That seemed to do the trick as the previously proud, arrogant man obeyed your command and slid away from the handlebar, but as soon as you were in position, revealed that potentially, it was not you winning here as he relished in the opportunity to embrace you for the entire trip back to OC, occasionally distracting you by letting his hands roam your torso, leaving you dangerously close to pulling over. But you had enough experience of being stoic, and Seonghwa still had much to learn about you, so you kept a steady speed, and greeted the luminescence of your neighbourhood with a relaxed rumble of the Hayabusa.

-

As you turned on the lights to your studio apartment and the two of you took off your shoes, you sped away to find the green case of health and all things that you were technically not supposed to have in your possession but did anyways. Funnily enough, Seonghwa’s comment had not been too far from the truth; back when you had been in the Black Pirates, a mechanic was fully expected to patch the customers up, as well as the bike, considering that both were normally against the law and had to remain undercover. Even when in certain districts the gang did bribe their way up to have a hand in decision-making, thus making it possible for the members to receive regular treatment, many had gotten used to the quick and easy drive-by healings, and would always choose to trust the person who gave life to their motorcycles over even the most qualified, certified doctor. Such was the rhythm that you had fallen into, the one that transitioned into the you in Night City through a library of skills and odd habits - like keeping the first aid kit right below the sink, the logic being that one could grab the kit, wash their hands and be ready for war, equipped with antiseptic and a plethora of improvisation techniques made up on the spot. 

With Seonghwa settled on one of the foldable chairs that you kept to the side for when you wanted to sit while eating instead of leaning over the kitchen counter, you took the other, placed it right in front of the tired man and got to work. Carefully guiding his arms out of the leather jacket, you were left with a far too attractive biker, clad in only a black tank top and the ridiculously expensive chains, and the leather trousers that tightened around his legs as he wriggled a little and took a more comfortable position to sit. The earring with the feather right at the end still dangled in his ear, and his hair, ruffled but retaining some shape thanks to what you thought to be humble use of a styling gel. You needed to avoid his eyes at all costs, the burning eyes that were trained on you, and only you. It did not take an expert to guess what Seonghwa was replaying in his mind the entire time that you were around him. As you lifted the tank top and inspected what was now a dried up mass over a graze, you sighed with relief.

“Good news.”

“Good?” Seonghwa asked back, suspiciously out of breath.

“Yeah. Now, I can’t check for internal bleeding, but outwardly, this is easy enough. Seems that you got really lucky. Very. Over the top kind of lucky actually. Can’t say the same for the jacket though, but at least you are not a wine barrel.”

“Charming.”

“I’ll just clean the thing and put a big bandage on it so that it won’t get infected. I fear that most of the pain is from these old injuries though…” you absent-mindedly traced some of the hematomas, which, judging by their colouration, were well on their way to dissolving into a smoothness, with your fingertips, making the man tense up. He turned his head towards you, glancing back and forth as you inspected the collage of injuries that he had collected on his body.

“We’re fighters though, aren’t we.”

“Fighters need holidays too.”

“Right.”

“You need to park yourself in a garage and give your engine a nice break…” you joked, more to yourself as you turned to bring the green case to your lap for easier searching, keeping one hand in place to hold the cotton top up, until the finger grew tired, “hey could you be a darling and hold your own shirt for me? Cheers.”

Seonghwa jumped into action, enjoying the soft speech, and replaced your hand with his, the digits ever so slightly brushing against one another as he moved to hold onto the material.

“You are in luck.”

“Is that so? Even more than over the top?” ignoring his interjection, you continued:

“Uh-huh. I have hydrocolloid bandages left. This one’s actually barely noticeable, but works like a charm with weeping wounds so, get your flesh over here and you’ll be patched up in no time.” turning, he repositioned himself to allow you to clean the cut, removing some of the attached fabric that had dried with the first droplets, and leaving the redness exposed to the disinfectants, and to the patch. In no time at all, your work was done. Satisfied, you grabbed a tissue out of the packet that was sitting in the kit and cleaned the ointment and adhesive that stuck to you.

“I’m afraid I can’t help with the clothes though. Not my area of expertise.”

“You did more than enough, Y/N. And all this after racing through and out of Night City from five Guardians on a totally new bike.”

“I am a woman of many talents.”

“That’s true…” that honey-sweet, deep voice, slowing into a sultry beckoning as Seonghwa’s hand moved to rest on your knee. A man on a mission after all. You chuckled and snapped the first aid kit shut, easily sauntering from his approaches and enjoying every minute. 

“You want hot chocolate?” you asked over your shoulder as you stashed the case back under the sink and shut the cupboard. Nothing was stopping you from being a good host to a very good person. Even though it was rather apparent that Seonghwa was eyeing something else on the menu, the sound of a sweet treat was rather appealing. You were right about him faking drinking coffee after all.

“Yes please.”

As you moved about the kitchen, fetching the cylindrical jar of chocolate powder and getting the coffee machine started for your own beverage of choice, Seonghwa moved to reposition the chairs closer to a table that bore the appearance of an ironing board squashed against the wall until he pulled it down and pushed the two legs at the free end out. Patiently, he admired your studio apartment, your corner of the city that was situated right above the shop. The walls were bare, only decorated with old holes from nails and with the odd scratch here and there. Minimal furniture, with the large dresser probably being donated to you by Yunho. The neatly made bed which judging by the headboard and armrests was also a small sofa, located right beside the window that was covered by wooden blinds roughly painted an off-white, was probably the newest addition to the metres of this room. Undoubtedly, the piece of furniture was acquired after you had moved here, after you had made your bosses certain that you were here to stay. And Seonghwa was going to make sure of it. Night City was now to be your new home, and when you tapped the table to alert him of the hot beverage that you had prepared, now ready and billowing steam out of the mug right in front of him, he revered how beautiful you looked, surrounded by the mechanic shop, by the streets of the district, by the city that he had despised for so long but the one that had helped him find you through mysterious serendipity.

"Thank you." he took a cautious sip, sighing in elation.

"No problem. I'll pretend that chocolate helps with internal bruising and call myself a doctor." You commented while settling beside the vigilante, making him smile.

“How’d you guess I would not want coffee?” you glanced over at your companion while taking a tentative sip once the initial temperature shock had subsided.

“You never order it.”

“But I never-”

“I think we have spent enough time together to know the basics, right?” A bolder swig, and you could feel the caffeine begin to hit your system like a nitro boost.

“Well I seem to be discovering more and more things about you every second, Y/N.”

“And how are you finding it?” you took the quietness as a chance to test him. It was barely a test, but nevertheless, too important to dismiss. The small questions, ones said in passing and ones to be forgotten were almost always the ones that were to be the most important.

“I want to learn more and more, since I simply cannot get enough.”

Momentarily bashful, you looked at the floor and thought of the garage beneath your feet. The place where you had initially determined that this same man who was now unbelievably bold in his expression of his feelings for you was to be your sworn enemy. How times changed, for the better. Regardless of the twists and turns, the ups and downs, even in the deepest night there was a light to find, and a light that was meant to be yours. This new life was your light, and Seonghwa wanted to be part of it. You grinned at the thought, and finally met Seonghwa’s smouldering gaze, fuelled by care, by determination, by the vision of a future.

“You know, I think I thought of a nickname for you, Seonghwa.”

“Oh?” he set down his mug, mirroring you.

“Yeah. I think I’ll call you mine.” you stood up, knowingly ambling to the light switch, listening to the biker following suit.

“Watch out, I might just marry you on the spot if you keep that up.”

“Well, I am not your bride but you may kiss me.”

“Y/N, you are too addictive, and will make me lose my mind.”

“Well then, are you mine?”

“In every lifetime I am yours.”

Enveloped in a new night, illuminated only by the colours that seeped through the half open blinds you ceased to think and rationalise, giving yourself up to instinct as you felt his arms wrap around your waist, twisting you from the wall, coaxing you closer to him, towards his warmth, his heart right there for you to take. It was easy to oblige and you pinched the material of his tank top, prompting him to step even closer, sure that he was practically beaming into the kiss as he nudged himself forward, lifting your head up just a little to prolong the contact. It was as though he was certain that if you were to break apart from one another, you would disappear. He wanted more, needed more. Digits tracing abstract shapes on your back, running through your hair, Seonghwa wanted to remember every detail. Just as he had said, he wanted to learn every part of you.

Lost in paradise, the kiss was electric. A hand that found itself toying with his chains, and proceeding to snake up the back of his neck to tug on his hair just enough to make him shakily exhale made Seonghwa switch his gears. A previous tentativeness, a tender exploration turned into an urgency as his tongue flicked against your lower lip begging for entrance, which you were more than eager to give. You sighed into the passionate call for more that left you breathless. And yet, in these seconds turned into an unprecedented timelessness, if you had to give up every life-saving molecule for even a fraction of nearly impossible unity, you would do it in a heartbeat. The sensation was as though you had finally woken up from a deep slumber, dragged from the somnolent abyss, and every vibration in the air was resonating with you, resonating with Seonghwa. 

You felt drunk, dizzy as you guided Seonghwa to the bed, having very quickly memorised the layout of your tiny apartment to the point where you could move around even if there was not a single source of light. In a passionate blur your top was left by the chairs, while your trousers found their place right in front of the bed, together with Seonghwa’s tank top. With every flame that crossed between you, you laid yourself bare to one another, honest and open, and the vulnerability, intimacy you let yourself indulge in marked another beginning. As your nude bodies laid down onto the dark grey sheets, the both of you fervent for more but aware of the importance of honouring every step, Seonghwa suggested, feeling his side remind him of his injury:

“I think you’re going to have to take the lead here, Y/N, I’m a little bruised up.”

“Of course,” you leaned in for another kiss, smiling at the sweetness, “You ready?”

“More than.”

Seonghwa leaned against the pillows and headboard, devoured by lust as you moved further and further down until you reached his exposed member, leaking precum, hard, pleading for you to give it at least some attention. Testing the waters, you languidly rubbed the tip with your thumb in circles coating it in the translucent liquid and making Seonghwa breathe as though there was not enough oxygen. One glance back and you were in awe of the beauty before you. Eyes shut, reddened lips slightly parted, head tilted back as if he was caught in a divine act. The light from the street outside made him look all the more ethereal, and his skin, now an indescribably stunning collage of hues that had crept through the blinds, was a masterpiece that you wanted to honour with your love. As your teasing progressed into a gentle pumping, first of the tip and then with your hand sliding down the entire length, only to stop and give extra care to the base of the member, a low groan reached you - a melody that only encouraged you. Heat pooled to your core as you continued to elicit a string of indecipherable mumbles, a deep moan, and the most magnificent expressions from the man who had never thought you would even cross paths with again. How foolish you had been, masking Seonghwa’s stunning presence, response to your every action, and his eagerness to please you by whispering praises for how good you were making him feel, how amazing you looked and were, and how he was so grateful. Your prior ignorance was almost impossible to even consider now, as you let spit drip down from your mouth onto his dick, adding more lubrication and letting you increase the speed. The wanton sounds of your hand pumping Seonghwa’s throbbing cock, blended with the breaths turning shallow, any moan coming out airy, barely there, were filling you with your own desire, and your free hand quickly moved between your legs, fingers gliding along the folds, finding them to be slick, soaking, needy. You began to run your digits over your now wet clit, rolling over the nub painfully slow in a weak attempt to prevent yourself from cumming too soon, but what used to be a hint of a high only accelerated to a knot at the bottom of your stomach, pulsating and begging for fullness. With how Seonghwa’s hips began to buck up, oblivious to the bruises, the wounds that ghosted and adorned his body, you needed him.

“Hwa…”

“Mmh- yes?”

“May I… ride you?” Through phrases broken up by your choice to quicken the pace of your hand, abusing your clit until a trembling sensation spread over your legs in anticipation of an orgasm, you voiced your desire.

“Please- Y/N I- yes-” equally as shattered, Seonghwa was barely able to respond, moaning as you gave him a chance to recover ever so slightly, letting his member spring free, but more desperate than before for stimulation.

“Do you have condoms?”

“Back pocket, trousers, wallet.” he sighed, pointing at the discarded article at the foot of the bed.

“How’d you even get it in this Sector?” you asked, fishing the item out of his wallet, tearing the packaging and crawling back to unroll it.

“Con… tra… band,” he enunciated through your swift actions, biting his lower lip as he felt your heat press against him, your hand guiding the cock between your folds as you rocked back and forth.

“Vigilantes indeed. Protecting in all kinds of ways.”

“Are you kidding me?” Seonghwa groaned at the sorry attempt of a joke, his mind conflicted between the humour and the unbearable closeness of your pussy, lined up against his tip.

“I’m not the one smuggling condoms, though I have nothing to say but thank you, darling.”

Lowering yourself onto the member, bit by bit until he bottomed out inside you, you leaned forward, consumed by the euphoric feeling. Seonghwa took this as a chance to caress the side of your face, draw a line against your jaw and lead you towards him with soft fingers under your chin. Placing one kiss, another on your lips, and peppering your cheeks and nose with loving pecks, he encouraged you. He wanted to ensure that you felt loved, and only loved. When you began to move, hands finding the headboard for better balance and as a security measure so that you would not hurt Seonghwa, his gaze stayed on your face, bearing witness to the single most gorgeous view of his mortality. 

He gave himself up to you, something that he would have never imagined, but something that felt so right that he was terrified of thinking how his life would be had he never met you. Seonghwa let you control the pace, and when your walls tightened around his dick with your climax fast-approaching, did nothing to stop you, deny you of the ecstasy, much to his own fortune, for the cries of his name as you reached your high and rode it out, leading him to his own heavenly demise were now permanently etched into his brain. Never before did anything of his sound so captivating. Never before did he think that he could see a light in this dark city, in his dark path. But there she was, an angel in his arms, falling forwards, a barely noticeable shake still over taking her as she nuzzled into the crook of his neck, your lustful fever accentuated by the coolness of the metal necklaces. Seonghwa kissed your cheek once again, then your forehead and the crown of your head, thanking you, adoring you, and as the minutes ticked past, finding his footing in the post-coital bliss, and nudging for you to clean up with him, so the oasis you had created in your four walls could last longer, and you could drift into the sunniest dreams in each other’s embrace.

As you laid in Seonghwa’s arms, flushed from the shower and changed into an oversized t-shirt, his leg lazily thrown over yours and breath tickling your exposed skin, you felt even more alive. As he pulled you closer to him, and with the hand that was fully on the other side of you reached out to rest his palm on the back of yours, and let your fingers intertwine, you let yourself fall into a serenity that you had never known, and listened to his heartbeat through the tee you had given him, a rhythm that you never wanted to forget, a soul that helped yours truly come back from a place of no return. Seonghwa traced the tattoos on your skin, whispering about their marvel, their story, pointing out his favourites, the details that put every piece together into one flowing design. He repeated, again and again, his adoration for you, kissing your earlobe only to say it once more, accompanied by his favourite sound: the syllables that made up your name. In rare moments like this, everything felt easy, within reach. In this time and space that existed after a revival, a self-discovery and a promise of a new beginning, you were ready to take the scenic route.

“Hwa, could you pass me the C-spanner?”

“Ah, the mechanic’s scythe, sure thing.” you rolled your eyes and grinned, accepting the tool from Seonghwa’s outstretched hand. You were working on a swanky new Yamaha that had been added to the general Blue Bird collection after a certain Aprilia had been turned into scraps in the name of security. Not that you knew anything though - after all that was not you, and you did not exist at all in the databases of the Guardians, having flown under the radar thanks to some quick camera wipes, and security checks around Night City. Your new beginning was greeting you with open arms.

As you adjusted the pre-load on the rear shock absorbers, Seonghwa noticed something that reminded him of cling film peeking out from under your sleeve and letting his curiosity get the better of him, inched towards you, around the bike and giving you barely a second to register his intentions, poked at the plastic.

“What’s that, love?”

“A little upgrade.” you smiled to yourself and continued to make adjustments to the energetic beast.

“A tattoo?” he inquired, taking the c-spanner from your hand and laying it down on the ground. You spun on your old stool to face him.

“Mhm…”

“Show me?”

“I don’t know… probably won’t be clear enough through the film and I don’t want to ruin it so…”

“C’mon Y/N, weren’t you gushing about it to me just yesterday? How Seonghwa would adore it and-”

“Don’t sell me out, bossman.” you retorted, faking a glare at Yunho who was in the depths of a discussion about component orders with Jongho and evidently, was getting more and more bored.

“And focus on the papers, Yunho.” the latter rapid-fired after you, making Yunho groan and shift his attention away.

“So?” Seonghwa nudged your foot with his, shoving his hands in his pockets. Clearly, whatever tailor he knew in this city was a magic person, because even months after the turning point in your identity, a switch in time that let you open your eyes to a beautiful new world, the beloved biker pseudo-uniform in black and orange hues was pristine, seamless, bearing no signs of any gunshots, nor of any tears nor grazes.

You stood up, and cautiously rolled up your sleeve to reveal a transparent bandage that covered your fresh ink. Another restart, another call for a new step in the form of a single blue feather, with a stunning gradient and black detailing. As Seonghwa peered at the design, open-mouthed and silent before nearly squeezing the air out of you as he hugged you as tightly as he possibly could and spun you around, you blinked away the last of your doubts that had been stuck to you from before the fateful arrival to Night City. In the most unexpected places, surrounded by the most unexpected people, time was finally on your side, and let you slowly but surely take steps towards the you that you were happy being. The you that was loved and could love. The you that turned a fresh new leaf, and was more alive than ever.

[nachojaehyun]

you give good love

pairing. brother’s best friend! idol! dino + fem! reader

summary. as lee chan’s eyes met yours again, he could feel his consciousness slipping away from his soul. god damn, he thought to himself. when did this brat get so hot?

w.c. 5.10K

playlist. kind of based off of you give good love by whitney houston but not really i was just listening to it while writing this

warnings. [PLEASE READ] reader is hoshi’s sister, mentions of freak dino 🫢, smut under the cut, PWP, afab reader, dom/sub dynamics, dom chan, pussy eating from the BACK, uses of pet names, chan has a BIG dick, BULGE KINK, very little dirty talking, slight overstimulation, unprotected sex (don’t do this irl please), creampie duh — 18+ MINORS DNI!

note. pi-cheollin is the reason i live and breathe. also i might write chunsunie x pi-cheollin fics soon 😭 also thank you guys so so so much for 2K notes on the wonwoo fic 🙇‍♀️ super grateful for all your love, more soon. this is also my first ever long fic, so i hope you like it. enjoy!

“so yeah, those are the dates and timings of the flight. now, check your schedule.”

soonyoung could hear the ruffling of paper as he waited on the phone. the air con blasted in his face, evaporating any signs of sweat from his pores.

“yeah, i think i’ll be able to make it!” your voice chirped. soonyoung couldn’t help the smile on his face. “thank god! also, don’t worry about being lonely, jeonghan hyung’s sister will also be there, and also wonwoo’s sister.”

“i haven’t seen them in so long! wow, a true trip down memory lane,” you sighed, finally setting aside the calendar on your lap. “they ask about you a lot, i told you to exchange contacts with them!” your brother scolded you.

“i may have forgotten… but all that aside, how much do i need to pack?” you nervously bit your lip, contemplating how much shopping you would need to do.

“it’s a summer trip for one week, basically a mini vacation. pack a good amount of shirts and tops and modest shorts. bring your grandma style swimsuits for the pool.”

“grandma style swimsuit? oh please! i didn’t work out all winter to wear a one-piece!” you complained, flexing your biceps in front of the mirror. “i’ll bring what i want to bring.”

“and if i see any of these perverts staring at you, i’ll chop your head off too, yeah?” soonyoung sighed. “yeah yeah, they are the perverts. and you’re the polished lamb of jesus who has never gawked at wonwoo’s sister right?”

your rhetorical question has your brother stunned as he gapes into the abyss, his mouth filling up with the cool air from the air con. “i’m… how did you—” he begins, only to be cut off by the doorbell of his shared apartment.

“that’s the others. look, i’ll leave now, but make sure to pack properly, okay? text me if you need anything. see you soon.”

with that, he hung up. you smiled as you set down your phone, already deciding the outfits in your head.

as you walked over to your closet, your phone interrupted your thought process with a loud notification.

이찬: oi

이찬: did you get the plane tickets?

with a sigh, you texted back your brother’s best friend, who had somehow managed to find out about soonyoung inviting you.

you: ya, i will be coming.

you could see the dots bouncing on the screen, but you chose to ignore them. switching over to a music app, you started to scroll through and pick your random playlist.

your brother’s song, God of Music started to play and you threw your phone on the bed, enjoying the music.

you could text chan back later. he was really annoying, and it’s not like he meant anything to you anyway.

your phone buzzed with his notifications as you sorted through swim suits. “hmm, this makes my ass look fat right?”

as you landed in the jeju international airport, you gathered your luggage and made your way to the gates.

your brother was already waiting outside, clad in a mask and a cap. wonwoo and his sister accompanied him, smiling and waving at you.

“hey guys!” you hugged them, before fixing the crop top that rode up your waist. “i missed you so much!” minji (wonwoo’s sister) squealed.

the four of you got in the car after shoving your luggage in the back. wonwoo sat next to your brother, scrolling through his phone as you and minji chatted their ears off.

soonyoung couldn’t help but peek at the rear view mirror ever so often, catching glances of minji and smiling to himself.

you wanted to call him out, but decided against embarrassing your brother so early into the trip.

within 30 minutes, you had reached the share house. it was a beautiful property, surrounded by greenery. the sounds of waves crashing on the beach wallowed around you as you dragged your suitcase up the ramp.

“eunsok is dying to meet you! we must make a group chat this time, so that we remember to check up on each other, yeah?” minji helped you with your handbag, smiling as you nodded enthusiastically.

in front of the main door, you took in a sharp breath, before pushing the mahogany portico open.

immediately inside, you were greeted by jeonghan, joshua and mingyu lounging about on the couch. however, upon the sound of your entrance, eunseok ran down the stairs, engulfing both you and minji in a bone-crushing hug.

“i missed you!” she screamed, nearly tackling you on the floor. with a giggle, you hugged her back. “me too! its just sad that sophie couldn’t join us.”

muttering agreements under their giggly breath, the two helped you get up, and greet the others.

as you answered jeonghan’s questions about your well-being, you heard heavy footsteps from the stairs.

lee chan’s body appeared downstairs. when his gaze countered yours, you choked on your words.

it had been nearly 5 years since you had seen him in person. and wow, had he changed. dino, as he was famously known as these days, sported much bigger muscles, and a sculpted face. his hairstyle was finally suiting his face, a beautiful contrast to the bowl cuts you had seen him in during childhood.

for the first time in your life, you actually looked at him. and boy, did he look good. the tank top he wore showed off his body as he walked towards you, checking you out silently.

he had to admit, you surprised him. your black crop top, barely there jean shorts, and long brown hair came as a huge shock to chan.

he had remembered you as the snot-faced bratty sister of his best friend. the girl in pigtails who would cry every time he brought up your crush in middle school.

as lee chan’s eyes met yours, he could feel his consciousness slipping away from his soul. god damn, he thought to himself. when did this brat get so hot?

“hi,” chan finally placed himself in front of you, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. “hi,” you breathed out, clutching the handle of your suitcase tighter.

“oh, you guys are meeting after so long!” mingyu chuckled, his eyes wandering around the room as he noticed the tension between you and his youngest member.

“yeah,” you smiled, transfixed by chan’s eyes. his plush lips parted as he glanced at your glossy ones, before quickly scanning your face.

“okay, that’s enough of your weird staring contest,” soonyoung placed a hand on chan’s chest, pushing him back to create some distance between you two.

“i’ll help you get to your room,” he turned to you. “you’re lucky, since you get it to yourself, but its comparatively smaller and narrower than the others—”

“wait, weren’t we supposed to buy alcohol and meat from the store on the way back?” wonwoo suddenly remembered, making all the eyes in the room turn to him.

“shit!” minji slapped her forehead, tutting. “we’ll go get them then! you wanna come with?” she smiled at you, eunseok joining in.

“i think i should set up my things first yeah? but take soonyoung in my place,” you shoved your brother forward. “he’d love to go grocery shopping with you.”

minji’s cheeks flared up as she straightened her posture, nodding. “sure yeah.”

within minutes, wonwoo, minji, eunseok, soonyoung and mingyu headed off to the car, ready to buy crates of beer for the evening.

as the door shut behind him, jeonghan threaded his hands through his hair, smirking. “dino-yah,” he cooed. “why don’t you help her with her luggage?”

almost immediately, joshua joined in, egging on the maknae as both of you felt the heat creep up on your neck.

wordlessly, chan snatched your suitcase from your hand, beckoning you upstairs. you bowed at the two elder to you, before running up to chan.

he led you to a small room in the very corner of the second floor, opening the door with his leg as he walked in.

chan cleared his throat as you walked in, placing your hands on your bare waist. “so, this is your room.”

you nodded at him, taking in your space for the rest of the trip. the room was furnished with a queen sized bed, a love-seat in the corner, a small desk and chair and a balcony in the very end.

“this door,” chan walked over to a door that sat perpendicular to the entry. “this is the door to a common bathroom. its a jack and jill one, that connects to the room opposite to you.”

“oh? and who’s in the room opposite to me?” you questioned, raising your eyebrow. with a dramatic sigh, chan leaned against the bathroom door, swinging his head to meet your eyes.

“its me.”

your breath hitched as he gulped. “w-wow,” you stuttered out. “sounds great, chan. looks like we are forced together again,” you smirked, crossing your arms as you stared at him.

he knew what you were referring to.

back when you were kids, and way before the idiot in front of you had signed with Pledis, you and soonyoung had gone to his house for a sleepover. chan’s mother had insisted on having you sleep on the bed, since “the floor is no place for a lady to sleep.” you and chan shared the bed, while soonyoung dozed off on the ground.

you were 14 at that time, and you remember how you skin had heated up when chan inched closer to you. “there’s no one to save you from my tickles now, crybaby!” the 15 year old boy had threatened.

yet, chan could barely focus on the flashback, instead focusing on the way your breasts nearly fell out from the neckline of your top.

you noticed his staring. smirking, you drew closer, tightening the cross of your arms.

“what’s this now, you’re ogling at me?”

you had him cornered. chan’s back was against the wall at you forced yourself into his space, breasts touching his hard torso.

“i—in you dreams!” he lied through his teeth, nervousness oozing out of his soul as he stared down at your tits.

god, the things he would do to slot his dick between those beautiful, gorgeous, one of a kind—

“my eyes are up here, channie,” you stuck your tongue out at him, before backing away and walking up to your suitcase.

dino felt his blood rushing south as you bent over to pick your bag up and place it on the table.

you purposefully wiggled your ass, humming to yourself. “channie,” you called out, voice as sweet as a siren.

“yeah?” dino collected himself, shaking away the filth that plagued his mind. two can play that game, he decided, biting his lip.

“can you come help me put my things in the bathroom? i have too much to unpack.”

with a nod, he walked over to your space, his chest touching your back as he leaned over your shoulder. “why did you pack so much, hm?” he teased you, running his fingers down your smooth arms.

not backing down from the challenge, you pushed your ass against him, whipping your head to meet his eyes. “i just wanted to look good, y’know? in case there was a strong, buff, hot man i wanted to seduce.”

with a hiss at your movements, chan’s hands flew to your hips. “yeah? you’ve grown up so much that you seduce men now?”

“oh, i do a lot more than just seduce,” you giggled, skincare long forgotten on the desk as you turned around, hopping on the wooden platform as your arms loosely slung around his neck.

chan slotted his knee between your legs, the pervert in him alive and breathing at the sight of you. you were driving him insane.

how you had managed to change so much over a few years had him baffled. instead of worrying about soonyoung, chan thought with his dick.

“what do you do then?” he questioned, eyes trained on your lips as you spoke. you pushed your clothed cunt down on his knee, biting back a moan.

“i think i would rather show you what i do than tell you,” you whimpered out, darkened eyes peering into his hazy ones.

chan bent his knee further into you, causing a delicious moan to escape your throat. “getting bold now, aren’t you?”

before you could even comprehend his words, your pussy spoke before you, hips rutting into his knee. however, a sharp knock on the door interrupted your little hump session.

“chan? y/n?” seungcheol’s voice spoke from behind the door. “you guys in there?”

chan quickly separated from you, walking closer to the door to answer. “yeah, i’m just helping her with her stuff. what’s up?”

“well, we were ordering some take out, so if you guys could come down and give your preferences, it would be great.”

“yeah, be there in a second,” chan glanced back at you, your teary eyes meeting his. the fucked out expression on your face made his dick jump to life.

but the heat of the moment had passed, which painted both of your cheek's a deep shade of red. realization hit dino way faster than it hit you. shooting you a tight-lipped smile, he shoved his hands in the pockets of his shorts.

with a sigh, chan left the room and left you breathless, panting as your senses slowly returned. the fire of lust in your stomach had dimmed slightly, as realization dawned on you.

what the fuck just happened? and why did you like it?

nightfall arrived faster than you expected. but the cool air surrounding the beach raised bumps on your skin as you shoved grilled meat down your throat.

seungkwan and mingyu worked on the grill, with vernon filling up everyone’s plates with the expensive store bought items.

you sat on a stool next to seungcheol, sipping on the beer can that was handed to you. when everyone was busy with their own thing, the leader turned to you and smiled.

“so, how have you been? a long time has passed since we spoke right?”

you had always found comfort in seungcheol. he was the leader of the group, a very reliable and trustworthy person. you remember asking him for advice when you got into college.

“i’ve been well, how are you?” you set your can aside. “any luck with the ladies you used to complain about?”

he laughs loudly at that, spooning a mouthful of ramen. “no, i’m still stuck with one-night stands for now. dating is too complicated!”

when chan hears his hyung talking about his love life, he scoots closer to the both of you, shamelessly eavesdropping.

“what about you? get any action?” seungcheol giggled.

you could practically feel dino’s presence beside you like a wavering shadow, and you chose to exploit it. how dare he leave you with an unfinished orgasm?

“oh yeah, plenty!” you smirked. “don’t tell soonyoung, but i’m lowkey addicted to sex? just feels so good to let off some steam, you know? and the dudes around me are so easy… they fall into my hands like domino.”

the harsh truth behind those words were only known to you. you had been on a dry spell for nearly 2 months now. your fingers and toys were not enough, and you were pretty sure you had started to hallucinate about dick.

“wah, kwon hoshi’s sister is all grown up, huh? good for you girl, go get them!” seungcheol cheered you on, clinking his can with yours.

you sneakily turned to look at chan, who had suddenly grown silent in his conversation with seokmin. “dino-yah. are you okay?”

chan’s eyes met yours and he immediately tensed up. you noticed how white his knuckles had turned, just from gripping wooden chopsticks.

“i’m fine,” he smiled, eyes dancing over your body before he returned to his friend. your bralette was doing nothing to hide your slightly tanned skin, black shorts making your perky ass stand out even more.

dino mentally cursed soonyoung for even allowing you to wear that. but then again, his best friend was too preoccupied with his little crush to pay you any attention.

the rest of the mini barbeque was a tough time for him. the poor boy could only think about your tantalizing words to seungcheol, calling a sweet string of cusses to all the men that touched you before he ever could.

you noticed how your plan was working, hiding your smirk behind a colorful can of beer as lee chan suffered in silence.

within a few hours of outdoor activity, jun and minghao said goodnight to everyone first, tired of all the hustle and bustle. a few others followed suit, yawning and sighing.

at the end of the night greetings, you, dino, wonwoo, seungcheol, soonyoung, minji, and joshua remained near the pool. you saw how your brother kept leeching up to minji, cracking idiotic jokes under her brother's watchful eye.

"i... i think i'll head to bed now, good night guys!" you stretched up from your chair. chan's eyes followed the way your skin gleamed under the fairy lights. he gulped loudly as you purposefully swayed your hips while walking inside.

"you can follow her in, chan-ah," wonwoo smiled, shifting his gaze to the youngest momentarily. "i'll keep kwon hoshi here for a while."

"what are you on about?" dino tried to play it off, scoffing as he crunched up a beer can. wonwoo could only roll his eyes.

"it's obvious you like her, and i'm just giving you a chance to work on it. you really should tone down the staring... soonyoung would kill you if he found out, and i am willing to help you for now. so don't be an idiot and go."

smiling toothily at his hyung, dino whispered out an "i love you" before running up the stairs. he reached his room without breaking a sweat and decided to shower before doing anything.

however, when he was about to slide the door to your shared bathroom open, he heard a loud sigh coming from inside. shamelessly, chan pushed his ear against the door, curious as to what you were doing.

your sigh was followed by a small whisper that sounded like "i can't believe i'm doing this." then, chan heard a zipper being opened.

his eyes widened as he realized what you were actually doing. "no way," he mouthed to himself, feeling his boner re-emerging at a sudden squelching noise.

"mhm," you moaned behind the door, and the pervert in the next room could only imagine what you looked like. "f-fuck chan!" you whimpered, and dino felt his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

the towel dropped from his hand, as his fingers sneaked to the hem of his basketball shorts. with a silent groan, chan stroked his chub as his eyes squeezed shut.

he pulled his cock out, swiping at his tip with his thumb. his brain worked overtime to imagine your hand in place of his, pretty eyes staring up at him.

meanwhile, in the bathroom, you leaned against the counter as your fingers stretched open your pussy. "feels so good," you whimpered, pitch increasing as you imagined his veiny hands pumping into you.

unbeknownst to each other, you and chan had cum to the thoughts of one another that night. chan made sure to cum at the same time as you, recognizing your borderline screams as you tipped over the edge.

what a filthy girl, he thought to himself, panting as his release spurted onto the towel he had discarded.

the starting 3 full days of the trip had made you avoid lee chan like he was the plague but personified.

every glance into his eyes had made you remember what you had done on that one night, and guilt seemed to sour your mood.

everyone had decided to go to the beach after having a few afternoon drinks. you spent your time around eunseok and vernon, gossipping about office trolls and work place shenanigans.

chan was simply drinking with seungkwan and minghao, refusing to give you any attention. although he was confused as to why you were ignoring him, he remained silent and decided to give you space.

jihoon suddenly joined into his conversation, hair tied back into a messy ponytail. “dino-ah,” he smirked, snatching a shot glass from the youngest’s hand. “i hear that there’s gonna be loads of girls on the beach today. wanna check some out? we can share if you want.”

as dino downed his shot, he stared back at his hyung with a grin. “don’t you remember what happened the last time we shared a girl? we had to take her to the hospital because she passed out!”

the group laughed, reminiscing the old memory. it wasn’t odd for them to share one-night stands. the boys were family, and they strongly believed in putting each other first.

the large number of giggles near you caught your attention. you and eunseok walked over to the boys, as she queried about their conversation.

“nothing much, it was just a last minute plan in prague… god we almost got arrested,” jihoon snickered, elbowing dino’s side. the youngest could only smirk, pouring himself another shot of soju.

questions flooded your mind as you stared at the man who had you in a chokehold. dino was clad in nothing but swim shorts, his taut muscles on full display for anyone to ogle over.

as the topic changed, your curiosity got the best of you. you staggered over to seungcheol, knowing that the boy would kill to gossip.

“oh hey y/n,” he greeted you with a tilt of his beer can, sunglasses perched upon his nose.

“hi,” you settled down next to him, your can of lemon soda forgotten as your lips quivered. “you look like you want to ask me something,” he chuckled, eyes scanning your face.

“you know me so well,” you smiled, twiddling your thumbs. “i can ask you anything right?”

“yeah, sure.”

“no repercussions?”

“no repercussions.”

with a sigh, you turned to face the leader as you took in a breath. “what happened in prague?”

seungcheol nearly choked on his drink, sputtering out flicks of the liquid as he stared at you with his eyes widened behind his shades.

“of everything you could have asked… why that?” he groaned, wiping his mouth. “come on,” you whined. “jihoon said it like it sounded so fun! i just wanna know!”

with a glance around to see if anyone was looking, the leader smiled and leaned in closer to you. “we swore we would never tell this to anyone but us… but you’re family too,” he began, voice merely above a whisper.

as seungcheol tattled on about the shenanigans that the idol group had been up to, you found yourself gasping. the wild story, the borderline illegality of it all— it was too much. you squeezed your thighs together when seungcheol skimmed past the details of the night they spent.

lee chan’s eyes followed the two of you, completely misinterpreting the situation. your shuffling thighs, masked giggles and wide eyes seemed like flirting to him as he clenched his jaw, downing his shot.

why were you making this so hard for him?

it was nearly 1 in the morning when you woke up in cold sweat.

your narrow room greeted you in a greyish hue, curtains pulled back to let the moonlight in. with a sigh, you resorted to calming down, taking deep breaths as you heard the waves crashing on shore. a slight buzzing noise filled your ears. it seemed to be coming from your door, but your mind could barely focus.

your dream had completely ruined your chances of sleep. a ticket to dreamland seemed impossible as seungcheol’s words floated in your head.

i’ve never seen dino go that feral on someone before… he was insatiable.

she squirted so hard when he was done, it was a huge mess. wonwoo’s glasses got drenched-

with a sigh, you take off your sleeping shorts and toss them to the side, fingers dipping down to your core.

your hole was slicked up, a sticky mess from your vivid imagination. your index finger prodded at your entrance, making you let out a sob.

your body was frustrated, in agony. you wanted to feel chan’s touch instead of your own hands, wanted to feel him buried inside you.

you let out another pained moan, pushing your first knuckle inside your fluttering walls. however, you fail to register the sounds you have been making, and that the buzzing from the outside had suddenly stopped.

you spread your legs wider, pumping your digits inside, letting out a hurt whimper. it would never be enough.

suddenly, the door to your shared bathroom opened with a slam, and a concerned chan appeared in your doorway. “are you okay—”

the sound of his voice egged you on further, hole gushing with a fresh serving of arousal. you all but sobbed at his direction, sex induced fog clouding your brain as your fingers fastened.

“chan,” you whimpered. in the doorway, with water drenched all over his face and a can of shaving cream in his hand, lee chan groaned at the sight in front him.

“help me…” you pleaded. “oh baby,” he growled, setting the can on the floor as he walked over to you. his hands parted your thighs even further, eyes examining the mess in between your legs.

with a sharp smack, he swatted your fingers away, licking his lips at the sight of your pussy.

morals be damned. soonyoung be damned.

“look at you,” his eyes stared into your hazed ones, a hand smacking your heat. the friction had your hips bucking.

“so soaked, hmm? what were you thinking of princess?” he bit his lip. “you… always thinking of you.”

“fuck,” he groaned, tilting his head back to compose himself. “y/n,” he sighed, one of his hands cupping your face.

you leaned into his touch, lips jutted out in a pout. “tell me you want this, and it’s not just something you’d forget. tell me you want me, and i’m all yours.”

with a smile, you turn aside to place a kiss on his palm. “i’ve never wanted something more in my life, lee chan.”

that seemed to be all the confirmation he needed as he flipped you over onto your stomach, slotting himself between your legs before he discarded his sweats on the floor.

“you have no idea how patient i have been,” he grunts, manhandling you to arch your back as your ass presses against his torso.

he dips his body down, face to face with your pussy. tantalizing, he licks a stripe up your folds, making your knees buckle on the mattress.

you try to look back to see him, but its impossible to move when his hands grab your ass cheeks, forcing his mouth back on you. dino’s chin brushes against your clit as he licks at your hole with a groan.

“so wet for me already, bet i could just slide in and you’d take it.”

you can only moan his name in return, clutching the bedsheets as he ate it from the back. his tongue fucks into your folds, lapping at the arousal that drips out of you in copious amounts.

“f-fuck channie! i’m—”

before you can finish, chan is moving away from your heat. the sudden lack of his mouth has you moaning and whining like a brat.

“easy doll, i don’t want you to cum on my face right now,” he pats your ass, flipping you over to your back as you finally get a view of him.

his slick covered face dips down to meet your lips. the kiss is searing and filthy as you taste yourself on his tongue.

your hands reach for his hair, pulling him impossibly close as you suck on his tongue. using your neediness as a distraction, he quickly angles his hips and pushes his tip past your folds.

“shit!” you cuss, gasping and pulling away. in the heat of the moment, you never actually registered how obnoxiously big chan’s cock was.

as you look down to where your bodies meet, your eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. his fat tip exerts an experimental thrust, and the sheer stretch of his head has you whining.

“shh baby, it’s okay,” he assures you, pressing small kisses along the column of your throat. “just breathe for me?”

you inhale slowly, allowing your tense body to relax and adjust to him. dino’s attempts at distracting you do not go futile as you feel his fingers pinching your nipples. the pain in your chest makes the ache between your legs lose all meaning.

steadily, he pushes himself inside you, inch by inch entering your welcoming walls that spasm around him. when he finally bottoms out, you feel him in your gut.

this was the fullest you had ever felt. chan’s mouth licks the sweat around your breast, savouring in the salty taste.

his arms rest on either side of your head, making you relish the view. when he finally looks up, you pull him in for a kiss.

its sloppy, and his teeth clash into yours, but you could not care less. your pussy clenches around him as you pull away, nodding feverishly. “chan… if you don’t fuck me right now, i might die— hah!”

one languid thrust into you has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. his metal chain dangles on your chin, the coolness contrasting the heat that squelches down there.

chan takes full advantage of his dancer body as he pistons his hips into you. the stretch has you reeling, nails clawing down his broad back as his body leans into you.

dino’s lips find the spot on your neck, licking and sucking till red and purple bloom on your skin. his matted hair sticks to his forehead, as you turn your head to the side— the visuals becoming too much for you to handle.

you’re met with his forearm in your sight, fingers tightly gripping the bedsheets.

without a second thought, you lean forward and bit his skin, making him groan out as his cock twitches inside you.

“fu- you’re killing me baby,” he smirked, licking his lips as he forces you to look at him.

the brute force of his thrusts has your body thrashing, legs shaking with pleasure.

“feels so good channie!” you hiccup, mind cloud. the only thing you could think of was lee chan and his oh so perfect dick that was ravaging your insides.

when chan looks down, his eyes roll to the back of his head. he could see the outline of himself in your stomach, prodding out with every thrust.

a creamy and frothy ring lined the base of his cock, a testament to how your greedy cunt was sucking him in. your warm walls squeezed hard around him when one of his hands dropped down to press the bulge on your stomach.

“feel me in there, don’t ya?” he babbled, hips faltering at your vicious grip. “y-yes!” you cried out, feeling your stomach contracting.

with a loud growl, chan’s lips rest upon yours. “you close baby? can feel your greedy little cunt crying f’me,” he mumbled, licking your bottom lip.

your pathetic nods made him remove his hand from your stomach and find your clit instead, circling the bud as you mewled.

“cum for me baby, show me how much you needed this cock in you,” his eyes fluttered shut, forehead falling against yours.

“i’m cu— oh fuck,” you whimpered, suddenly feeling your orgasm rip through your body. your pussy clamped down on him, gripping his length like a fleshlight.

dino moaned in your ear about how good you felt, thrusts turning sloppy as he pressed kisses on your earlobe.

he continued to move inside you, drawing out your orgasm as he chased after his. overstimulation had tears spilling from your eyes, clawing at his pecs as you sobbed. “ ‘s too much channie! hurts!”

“just a little more baby, clench round me like that aga— FUCK!” he lost himself in you, feeling your walls clamp down on his cock, milking him for all his worth as his orgasm washed over him.

in a desperate attempt, chan’s thrusts turned erratic as he pumped his load inside you. “s-so good,” he whimpered, hips stilling inside you as he softened. you groaned at the warmth, shutting your eyes in ecstasy.

you both were panting, bodies entwined in a soft caress. time seemed to still when lee chan looked into your eyes again, smiling like a lovesick puppy when you kissed him.

your mouth whined pathetically when he pulled out, falling to your side as he sighed. wanting to be close to him, you shuffled near him.

your fingers dropped down to your pussy as you tried to plug his cum inside you, moaning at the sensation of being so incredibly full and warm.

“that was… the best sex i’ve ever had, sheesh,” dino wrapped an arm around you, pulling you impossibly close.

you brought your hand up to place on his sweaty chest, giggling as he kissed the top of your head. “better than prague?” you teased.

lee chan’s pecs tensed under your hold, as his eyes widened, staring at you in the dark. “what— who told you about that!” he exclaimed, ears dusted pink.

“seungcheol’s very easy to gossip with,” you winked, staring up at his pretty face. “wow… i can’t believe this hyung,” he grumbled, hearing you laugh.

“hey! this only happened because i was thinking about everything you did to that poor girl,” you smacked his muscle, hearing him wince. “why were you so feral that night, lee chan?” you voiced your question out loud.

he sucked in a breath as his grip tightened around your shoulder. “you really want to know?”

“i’m dying from curiosity,” you mused. with a sigh, chan turned his head to face you fully, meeting your eyes in the moonlight, before he whispered out an answer.

“she had the same name as you.”

© nachojaehyun, 2024

[billboard-hotties-tourney]

Paul McCartney (1942-) The Beatles - bass guitar and vocals; Wings - bass guitar and vocals; solo Songs: "Hey Jude," "Jet" Defeated Opponents: Peter Tork, Micky Dolenz, Dave Davies Propaganda: "Just look at Beatles era Paul and tell me you're not swooning. Actually swooning. I hope you have a fainting couch nearby." "He was referred to as the pretty beatle for a reason" "he's going to get obliterated immediately because Tumblr hates Beatles fans, and they're right to. with that said. *with that said.* Paul IS worth the hype, when you get past all the big loud treatises white men like to write about him. when you dig back to the actual music, the actual vids, the actual guy. he was beautiful, he was rare, but he was also real. watching him in get back just solidified him to me as the Most Normal Guy Ever. he loved being in a band and it shows for every second of the 60s."

Brian May (1947-) Queen - guitar Songs: "White Queen (As It Began,)" "The Prophet's Song" Defeated Opponents: Ronnie Lane, John Coltrane, Roger Hodgson Propaganda: "He's very tall, his hair is the stuff of legends, his brain is the size of planets, he has a doctorate in astronomy, he built the guitar he still plays to this day (like a god) as a teenager. His songwriting and musical abilities have made him a legend in his own right and he also plays with this little group called Queen. Everyone who's ever met him unanimously say that he's the nicest, most decent person there ever was. Also, he's ridiculously beautiful in every decade he's been on this earth. Need I say more?" "While Freddie is hot and Roger is pretty, Brian stands out as sort of ethereally beautiful. He floats across the stage in Zandra Rhodes while delivering heavy riffs, then switches to self-harmonizing in as light and fae a manner as you could wish." "An Angel singing with his beautiful voice and his very own special guitar. On the best Rock tracks ever! His face like a greek god surrounded by heavenly curls, prancing skillfully on the stage with his long legs in platform shoes."

Visual Propaganda for Paul McCartney:

Visual Propaganda for Brian May:

[zerokurokawa]

It's my birthday in a few days and I got the bonten symbol right where sanzus is for my birthday. Could you possibly write a story of sanzu x female reader where she got the same tattoo to show she belongs to him?

Just Like A Tattoo | Bonten!Sanzu x Reader <3

Sanzu was a mess, as always. He was hard to keep up with, especially with all of the drugs and spastic things he would do. You loved the man even though he was a handful. Sometimes, out of the blue, he would question your loyalty to him - saying things like along the lines of whether or not you would do anything for him or even stay by his side forever. You promised him over and over again that he was the one for you, no matter what. 

You had plenty of conversations relating to the topic of loyalty. Sanzu would understand and then be right back to questioning the next day. 

"You promise me, y/n, that you'll forever be mine?" He would say in the car on the way home. He was driving all over the road while you held on to the side handles, breathing in and out for your dear life. He was high, as usual, but insisted on driving you both home. Him being overly emotional in this particular moment didn't help either. So you answered as calmly as possible, trying not to set him off as he was already driving all over the road. 

"What do I have to do to prove my loyalty to you?" You ask as he continues to switch lanes, going ninety miles per hour down the freeway. 

"I don't know, I just know that you're mine. Nobody else can have you." 

Those words rang through your head the entire drive home. You had to find a way to prove to him that you were forever bound to him. Your body, mind, and soul belonged to him. You may not be able to do much about the mind and soul part, but you came up with the idea of giving more than just sex to him when it came to your body. 

_____________________________________________________________________________

The next day while Sanzu was at work with Bonten, attending meetings and whatever, you decided to go to the same place they all went to get their Bonten symbols - a tattoo shop at the corner of an alleyway. It was a sketchy place to be in the first place, but due to your loyalty and need to prove it, you went anyway. 

Alone, you sat in the chair as the man began to shave your forearm and prep the place where you would be getting the same Bonten symbol as Sanzu, right in the same place as his. You knew this decision was spur of the moment and the tattoo would be for life, but your loyalty to Sanzu would then be proven. You watched as the man placed the stencil on your arm and began to drag the tattoo gun across your skin. 

You had thought about the pain and how much it would hurt due to it being on a rather sensitive place, however, you kept your mind on Sanzu the entire time. You knew this was going to make him believe your words and even make him happy. The tattoo needle almost felt like bee stings over and over again as you whined in pain. The lines weren't so bad, it was the shading and detailing of the symbol that made your face squelch in slight pain. 

Once the man was done, he wrapped the fresh ink in second skin - a clear film that is great for fresh tattoo healing - and gave you instructions on how to deal with peeling and bleeding if need be. You nodded your head in response and went on your way. 

______________________________________________________________________________

"Where have you been, baby?" He asked as you walked into your shared apartment. You were surprised to see him home so soon. However, he walked over and did what was expected - grabbing you by your wrist and dragging you to the sofa. Although the tattoo was technically on your forearm, the pain radiated down your arm so when he grabbed your wrist, you snatched it away out of instinct. He gave you a confused look. 

"What's wrong?" 

"Nothing, I just, did a thing today." You smirked at him. You were excited to show him your fresh ink. You were proud of it, since it was your first tattoo you had ever gotten. 

"What did you do?" Sanzu asked, scared of your response. You then lifted up your sleeve to show him the tattoo you had gotten in bounds to him. His jaw dropped and it quickly turned into a bright smile as he slightly held your arm up to admire the tattoo you had gotten - just for him. 

"Y/n... You did this for me?" He said, holding your arm gently as he knew you were probably still sore from the needles grazing your skin. 

"I wanted to prove to you that I'm by your side, permanently." You smiled, hoping he would get the pun you had made. Sanzu was over the moon as he couldn't stop staring at the Bonten symbol on your arm. You had finally did it. You had proved your loyalty to him. 

He knew that it wasn't just a tattoo, it was a symbol of love and commitment. He was proud of you. 

(A/N: Sorry I'm a bit late, but Happy Birthday! I hope you enjoy!)

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Yandere Squid Game AU | Idia Shroud

Working for a secret organization that murdered its players on a massive scale wasn’t as horrifying as it sounds. Granted, it was truly mortifying but you get used to it. You don’t show your face, you don’t flinch, and you listen to the Frontman. If you keep quiet and stay in your lane it isn’t long before you start moving up the ladder. From triangle to circle to square–it was like any other job. Like in any typical occupation if your boss, finds favor in your physique or otherwise you naturally get promoted. Thus was your fate as you went from being a mere circle to becoming the masked servant in the VIP room where you subject yourself to the whims of the richest and most disgusting patrons.

Idia Shroud 

Not many had the privilege of seeing the identity of the Host but you weren’t a part of the many. He was a technical genius, an avid inventor, and the one who loved to switch between his position as the Host and Frontman: Idia Shroud.

Now that you knew the joyful tilde in the disguised voice was made with a toothy smile of a gamer with azure flame-like hair; it made a disturbing amount of sense. No longer could you differentiate the man from his madness when he demanded you call his name in private. 

When you first met him he gave an odd aura, speaking as though he was imitating someone or making fun of whoever he was talking to. It made for an interesting work environment, he would make oddly specific references as he commanded the squares who could only tilt their heads and agree. Usually, you’d practiced your stoicism keeping yourself as robotlike as possible. 

But one meme. 

One reference. 

That has you chuckling and answering the Frontman, who seemed to freeze behind his mask still turned in your direction. He continues on acting as if nothing happened and you worry that you may have embarrassed yourself in front of your boss. Only to be broken out of your routine by one of the squares who handed you folded clothes and gave you instructions to begin your job as a VIP waiter. 

So maybe he did like it?

“You’re the new waiter, right?”

You nodded. 

“Good. You like it, here?”

“...Yes.”

“Good.”

The interaction was so curt and quick that you missed the skip in his step. It doesn’t take long for you to realize whoever is behind the frontman’s mask is also the one pretending to dress up as whatever shape employee you need to interact with. At that point, it makes you tirelessly paranoid as you feel the possible pressure of your boss constantly watching you.

And while you think you might have hidden your fear behind your masks, guess who’s got heavy surveillance on your room? He sees the way you pace on your time off and the recordings of you whispering affirmations in the bathroom. He enjoys seeing your cute reactions when he scares you a bit or how you tilt your head when you're trying to guess if it's him. But he loves you more. And if his kitten is feeling skittish he’ll change your environment. 

“You. Come with me.”

You nod, sending a look to the other VIP waiters who express their worry with as little expression as possible. Following the Host whose appearances were so far and in between would mean instant death should you disappoint. But with as many things in your life, you expected who this was. 

“...Sir?”

The Host turns their head to you, stopping in his tracks. 

‘How dare you?’

You sighed harnessing your courage as you continued.

“I know who you are…you’re the one who's been behind the masks right?”

He stayed in place.

“The one who’s left those memes in my room. That was you, right?”

He turned fully around. Facing you with his arms behind his back.

“And if I am?”

You didn’t actually know. You just wanted to be sure. To throw away this facade of deception. You wanted the truth. 

“I would prefer it if you just told me it was you. Rather than pretending you were someone else.”

A bellied voice-modified laughter emanated from the Host. He grabbed his wrist, subtly clicking at a device on his arm. Before returning to cradle his stomach. 

“Awfully bold of you to approach your boss like this.”

Perhaps your relocation could wait.

[saintslewis]

FACETIME

pairing: Lewis Hamilton x black fem reader

summary: you're doing your usual rounds around the paddock and you decide to go meet some fans. One particular little boy catches your attention and after the interaction, you decide to call up his fav driver

saint's notes: a little drabble i thought of and i think it's so cute

taglist: @thisismeracing @certifiedlesbianbaddie

-

Deciding to take a break from the ever so busy Mercedes garage, you step out and begin your walk to anywhere your legs take you. The moment your sneakers touch the pit lane, you hear cheering from the grandstand. You turn your head, your braids swishing along with you just to see a few supporters pointing in your direction. From your eye sight, they couldn’t have been older than their late teens so you gave them a wave to acknowledge them and you could hear them cheer again, putting a grin on your face.

After deciding to make a quick stop to the car that you came in after Lewis, your boyfriend, had left the apartment. After scanning your paddock pass to get to the vip parking lot, you heard even more cheers from the crowd that stood outside that usually cheered for the drivers, team principals and any famous person who were going through the paddock gates. You waved at the fans who were recording you and deciding to get closer to them to sign whatever they had on them.

“Oh my, hi guys!” You greeted as you began signing stuff. “You look so pretty, Y/n!” Someone said, with you smiling and thanking them. “Is that the new Chanel F1 shirt? It’s so cute!” Someone else commented and you looked down at your shirt just to nod at them and thanking them again. After a bit of small talk with a few other fans and many selfies, you felt something touching your calf, scaring you until you looked down to see the cutest little boy with a red Mercedes cap on.

“Hi Miss Y/n!” He greeted you with the biggest smile and tried to reach out to you with his arm going through the fence. You gave the ecurity guards a look to tell them to not react at your next actions. You bent down to his eye level, creasing your shoes a little but you couldn’t care. “Hello there! You can just call me Y/n, what’s your name?” You smiled, holding his little hand through the fence and you didn’t even realise that people were capturing this moment.

“Matheo!” He said with a little jump. “Nice to meet you, Matheo! Where are you from?” You asked and looked up once you heard the mom’s voice above him. “We’re from the Dominican Republic but we’re in the uk now.” She expressed with so much excitement in her voice. Your heart warmed at the fact that the two travelled just to be here. “Are you guys okay? Just dm me on insta if you need anything.” You quietly said to the mom, who nodded her head with a smile.

“Mama! She looks like Auntie Annie!” The little boy pointed at you as you ended the mental conversation you were having with his mom. The mom, who’s name you’ve yet to know, agreed with her son as she turned to you once again. “He talks about this all the time whenever they show you on the tv.” She gushed, not quite looking into your eyes. “May I ask what your name is?” You asked her. “Maria.” The mom answered, with you noticing the accent switch a little when she said her name.

“Well Maria and Matheo, who are you here to see?” You questioned, focusing your eyes on Matheo once again as he kept touching his mom’s tote bag as if he wanted something. “We’re both here for Mercedes, mainly Lewis. And I’ve been a very big fan of yours so I’m happy to see you.” She gushed, making you give her a grin. You never really knew how many people supported you so to see someone openly show their support to you made you wanna tear up.

“Do you like Lewis, Matheo?” You asked the boy, who had stopped trying to get his mom’s tote bag and looked at you with his big eyes. He nodded enthusiastically as an idea popped up into your head. You grabbed your phone from your cross body bag and immediately went to the facetime app.

With a few rings echoing into the air, your lovely boyfriend finally picked up, utterly confused by the call because he swore he just saw you in the garage. “Babe? Where’d you go? I could’ve sworn you were with Susie.” Lewis responded.

“I was but now I’m by the paddock entrance and I have someone I want you to meet. How busy are you right now?” You pondered, hoping that he had a few minutes to talk to Matheo and his mom.

“Uhhh, not too busy.” He replied, seeing him walking then sitting down. You turned your phone to Matheo and Maria, who were stunned by who was on the phone. Hearing Lewis giggle at the boy’s shocked face, you had the biggest smile on your face as you looked over at Maria who mouthed ‘thank you’ multiple times.

“Hey little man!” You heard Lewis greet and the other supporters next to you guys were all watching this interaction.

Motheo’s demeanour suddenly became shy and it was the cutest thing ever. After a brief but extremely sweet conversation between Matheo, Lewis and Maria, the call unfortunately ended because Lewis had been called for an interview.

“Thank you so much, Y/n. You have no idea how much that meant to the both of us.” Maria expressed. You couldn’t say anything but you decided to hug her from across the barricade. “And we wanted to give this to you and Lewis. I didn’t think this would happen so I was prepared to keep it. It’s a few diy gifts from me and Mathi.” She gushed and you hugged her once again. “Thank you so much for being here and for travelling just to see us. And I am very serious about the dm thing.” You said, squeezing her hand and moving to Matheo a fist bump before you take your leave.

“Matheo, I have to go now. I’ll see you later, okay?” You said, winking at the little boy who nodded again. “Bye bye Y/n.” He waved as you began to take your leave. Greeting a few more supporters, you decided to head back inside to be with Lewis, completely forgetting that you wanted to go to the car.

You called over a security guard after scanning inside. “Please make sure that the mom and son duo get to their hotel or airbnb safely and tell them I asked, okay?” You instructed, showing him Matheo and Maria. The guard nodded and you smiled at him as you walked away, holding the gift bag in your hand quite securely.

Once you reached the Mercedes garage, you immediately knew to go to his driver’s room because you had a feeling that he’d be there. “Hi my love.” You greeted as you watched him put his phone down and stand up to kiss your forehead then your lips. “How was your little trip?” Lewis asked, once you sat down next to him and he wrapped his arm around you.

“It was so cute, oh my god. I just wanted to take a walk then I was gonna go to the car for a bit of my candy then the fans were being so nice to me and theeenn I met Matheo and his mom, Maria. It was just so cool to meet them.” You rambled and you didn’t notice how he had been admiring you as you spoke.

He loved how enthusiastic you were whenever you told a story to him. “And they got us a gift.” You finished, lifting the gift bag into face view and Lewis definitely looked excited to open it. He carefully removed the gift tissue paper and set it aside, not forgetting to mention that it was the perfect shade of purple.

Inside were handmade bracelets that had his racing number and your initials, beaded necklaces that had the same details as the bracelets, a Lego model of an f1 car and a couple letters from the both of them. The both of you gushed over the dedication and kindness from Maria and Matheo until it was time for Lewis to get ready for the national anthem then Qualifying.

Handing him his prada shades, he gave you the last kiss on the forehead then your lips as he left his driver’s room.

yourusername added to their story!

[itmeansiris]

The Solar System Legacy Challenge: One thing at a time Gen 1 pt.69

The next day, with closed eyes, M groaned and turned to blindly search for her chiming phone. Without bothering to check who it was, she answered.

M: Hello?

Beckett: Sounds like you ate a frog. Are you really still in bed?

M: Bek? Ugh, What time is it?

Beckett: It's 12:30pm. That must have been some party?

Beckett had only been teasing, but to M it had been like pouring salt in a wound. It was enough to tear her from her half-sedated state. All the emotions from the previous night threatened to crush her.

M: Yeah, it was something. But what's up? I'm sure you didn't call to talk about my night.

She hurries the conversation along. Like the flip of a switch, his tone changed from playful to serious, something that was rare for her younger brother.

Beckett: Did you talk to mom yet?

M: No, I was going to talk to her today. I'm still not sure what to say.

Beckett: Well, I'll be in Brindelton Bay today. Maybe I'll stop by later and we can talk to her together.

M: You're coming to Brindelton Bay?

Beckett: Yeah I'm already on the train. My date is today.

M: Oh yeah. Geez Bek, sorry it must have slipped my mind.

Beckett: It's fine. Convincing Mom to move is a big deal, I'd imagine your mind would be reeling. She is so headstrong, it's not likely to be an easy conversation.

She was grateful Beckett had made his own assumptions about her memory lapse. She figured there was a good chance he hadn't seen the photos, considering he hadn't mentioned them. Yet.

M: You don't have to tell me. Look, you're going on your date today so let me handle the talk with Mom. I'll call you later to let you know how it went and to get details about your date.

Beckett laughed on the other end and M smiled. At that moment she missed her brother. His cheerful nature could make you look on the bright side, something she suspected he had inherited from their dad. Her love life may have been a mess at the moment, but sweet Beckett was brimming with excitement over this date and she was determined to be present.

Beckett had been in relationships before, but usually, it ended with his heart broken. The phrase "Nice guys finish last" was an accurate way to sum up his love life. It was good to see he hadn't given up or resorted to trying one of those cheesy dating shows, she'd gotten a call from recently.

Eager to escape her own depressing situation, she talked with Beckett a while longer probing him for information about his lady companion. She didn't find out much. He avoided her questions with lame comments about the sun in her hair and the light in her eyes. Beneath his playful banter was a real desire for privacy. M couldn't deny that her emotions were still at war. She recognized Beckett's behavior. The sweet yet protective approach he was taking reminded her of Kason. They spent so much time, in the beginning, trying to learn everything they could about each other, while trying to hide (from everyone else) the one thing they knew undoubtedly. The connection between them had been undeniable.

Kason had taken her on private dates and would come across the hall to her apartment, early mornings or late nights when she was working on a new book to check-in. Sometimes it was for simple things like bringing her the day missed mail or making sure she got fresh air every now and again. Other times it was to make sure she was eating, trying to talk her through a breakdown, or to make sure she was getting enough rest. There were nights she couldn't sleep unless he curled up in bed behind her and held her till she drifted off. By then she had already known she was madly in love with him.

Beckett: That's all you're getting from me. Oh and don't ever challenge her to a game of darts.

Beckett pulled her from her trip down memory lane.

M: Ha! How will I ever get the chance if you won't tell me anything about her?

Beckett: This will be our first official date. If, we are not counting the day we met. I just want to take it slow. When it is time to meet her, I think you’ll really like her though. She’s a book nerd like you, except cuter.

M: I say slow is a good thing, take your time. And a book nerd! Is that what you think of your big sister?! You wound me with your words!

They shared a laugh at her mock offense to his brotherly jab. It was cut short when there was a loud thud against the side of the house.

Beckett: What was that?

M: I'm not sure. But listen, don't worry about Mom, I'll talk to her, just have fun today. Okay?

Beckett: Okay. Thanks, Mercury, you're the best.

M: Would I be the best sister if I sent my little brother into the den of a lioness?

This time his laughter is untamed.

Beckett: Hope she doesn't turn you into lunch. Love you M.

She smiled to herself pleased to know their close sibling bond was still intact.

M: I love you too Beckett.

The line goes dead. She lies still for a moment afraid to break the feeble bubble of bliss Beckett had provided. Then she heard the thud again. She pushes herself up and out of bed and heads downstairs to investigate.

M: Hey Mom.

Spirit: Finally awake little planet. I didn't hear you come in last night.

M: Yeah it was pretty late. I went straight to bed. How was your night?

Spirit: Lively. I haven't built a pillow fort or lost so many games of "Don't wake the llama" since you and Beckett used to have sleepovers.

M: Glad you had a good night.

Spirit: Little Planet is something bothering you? Kason also seemed, off this morning. He's in the yard with Ishtar. Your son keeps hitting the baseball into the side of the house.

M: That's what that noise was. Uh.. yeah everything is fine.

She tried to reassure her mother, as she busied herself with fixing a cup of coffee but she knew her mother wouldn't be fooled by her weak smile, so she quickly changed the subject.

M: Are you making blueberry pie?

Spirit: Actually yes. It was Kason's idea. He said last night at the party they were only serving pumpkin pie and that you mentioned something about "killing for a slice of blueberry"

M: Oh he did, did he?

She looked out the kitchen window facing the yard. His back was to her, he was chasing a ball that Ishtar had hit into their small garden.

Spirit: Yup, and seeing how it's both of your favorite I figured let's make pie!

As she watched him try to secure the ball the anger she believed would burn through her when she laid eyes on him never so much as sparked. What had replaced it might have been far worse. She didn't know how to describe it. She felt all the familiar butterflies, and the need to be near him, but there was fear washed over them. Making the emotions feel foreign. Perhaps it was the fear that he wouldn't be the same person after last night. That somehow he'd changed overnight and didn't love her anymore or worse he would finally admit to sleeping with the blonde beauty and end her suffering. She never felt so distanced from him.

She turned away from the window as he finally pulled the ball from the dragon fruit plant and turned to face her direction. Venus walks into the kitchen to grab a snack at the same time.

Venus: MOM!

Venus ran to her mom. M lifted her into a tight hug and spun her playfully.

M: My big girl. How was the sleep over?

Venus: It was awesome! Nana helped us build a pillow fort and Tucker gave me one of his Voidcritter cards to keep. I'm gonna collect all the cards and be the best battler in school. Can you buy me the mega booster pack?

M beamed at her daughter's excitement.

M: That show that you and your brother have been watching after school everyday?

Venus: Yeah! They have Void critter battle stations in the schoolyard. Maybe we can get one too!

M: I'll take a look online today and see what I find.

Which Venus ultimately knew meant, Yes.

Venus: YES! THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU! Nana I put the movie on, hurry up okay!

She took her snack and bounced off into the living room.

Spirit: She reminds me of you at that age. She's always been a spirited one even when she was a toddler.

M: She lives up to her name, Dad would be proud. She's been hogging all your time I see. You spoil them.

Spirit: As do you and Kason.

M: No more than you and Dad did with us. Expensive telescopes, treehouses, and camping trips. Becketts capsule collection.

Spirit's smile made her look like her young adult self.

Spirit: Nonsense! Those were healthy hobbies. Besides it's my job as a grandmother to spoil them with love and attention.

M chose that moment to mention the move.

M: Actually mom, there was soemthing I wanted to talk to you about.

Spirt: What's on your mind?

M: Beckett and I have been talking and we were hoping you would consider moving to Brindelton Bay.

Spirit: Oh.

M: You could live here with us. Kason and I would love for you to stay and the kids have grown so dependent on your presence here. So have I.

Spirit: Slow down Little Planet. I love being in Brindelton Bay with you, Kason and my little stars. But move to Brindelton Bay? Leave Tomarang? What about the house?

M: I know it's a huge change, Mom. If you moved here we would get to see you all the time and you'd be closer to San Myshuno which means getting to see more of Beckett. The house you wouldn't need to worry about. You and Dad have owned that house since we were kids. Kason and I could pay the utilities and property taxes so you wouldn't have to sell it. It would be a home away from home.

Spirit: Mercury..

Her mother said warily. It made M nervous to hear her mother use her given name. It could mean she truly wasn't ready to leave Tomarang. Which was an outcome M had predicted.

M: Please Mom, before you say no, think about it. We just don't like you being out there all alone.

Spirit: I'm not alone. Micah comes by don't forget.

M could feel herself losing this battle, and made a last desperate offer to buy herself more time.

M: Can we compromise? How about you stay till Spring. Let Micah stay and finish his last semester of college there. Then in the spring, you can decide if you want to stay?

Finally, Spirit's expression softens.

Spirit: If you've gone to all this trouble it must mean a lot to you. I'll stay till Spring. Who knows what can change with the seasons.

M embraced her mother's strong frame. The familiar scent of sage and lemon still clung to her even though she hadn't been in her home garden in weeks.

M: To all of us Mom. We just want you to be happy.

Spirit: Thank you Little Planet. Tell Kason and your brother they don't need to worry.

M: You may get the chance to tell Beckett yourself. He's on the way to Brindelton Bay. He's meeting that girl from the cafe last week. I told him not to but he may stop by anyways. You know Bek.

Spirit: Good! We can share the news then.

The back door opens and Ishtar's voice floods in.

Ishtar: Did you see how far I hit it, Dad! Sorry about the Dragon fruit Plant, I can help replant it.

Kason: Don't worry about the bush buddy. I'd give up a cow plant to see you hit the ball like that again.

Finally, they entered, Ishtar was the first to come into view with Kason trailing closely behind him.

Ishar: Smells good in here. Hi mom.

M: It's Nana's blueberry pie.

Ishtar: Mom you should have seen us playing baseball. I got a hit, but then Dad had to climb through the garden to find the ball. Sorry about the garden Mom.

M: I did see! I'm so proud of you, and you heard your dad don't worry about the garden.

Ishtar: I'm going to get cleaned up. Will I get to have pie after?

Kason: All the pie you can eat. Go on, I can smell your big hit from here.

He heads upstairs with a giggle. Spirit picked up a fussy Zohreh.

Spirit: Come on Sunshine you can watch the movie with your sister and I.

Finally, alone he uttered a nervous greeting.

Kason: Hey.

M: Hi.

The sorrow in his voice shattered her heart and set fire to the fear that he didn't love her anymore. The overwhelming urge to embrace him flooded her mind. But before she can act on it, she's saved by the sound of her phone ringing for the second time that day.

M: Takara, Hi. Sorry I never called you back last night I was at a work thing with Kason.

Takara brushed past M's greeting.

Takara: I really wish you would have returned my call. Doesn't matter, can you come over now. There are things we need to talk about now!

To M it didn't sound like she had a choice. Takara was her agent sure, but she was also like a second mother to M. The only time she spoke to her so curtly was when something was wrong.

M: Sure. I'll be there within the hour.

Takara: Good. See you then.

She hung up without a goodbye.

Kason: Your going to meet Takara?

M: Yeah?

Kason: Good. You need to talk to her.

The intensity in his eyes clearly hinted at something, but she wasn't sure what and she didn't have the courage to ask.

M:(What can Takara do? What the hell is going on?)

She mulled over the thought as she got ready then called a cab to take her to Takara's office in Whiskerman's Wharf. She wouldn’t have to wait long to find out why she was summoned.

Previous Next

Beginning

Poses:

@starrysimsie on the line & My Iphone

@mel-bennett-deactivated20241007 Baseball poses and ACC

[seth-whumps]

UPDATED INTRO POST

Hello! You can call me Seth. Whatever 'nouns you fancy. I've been here for almost a year now, and wanted to update some things for 2024!

Where to find me ->

Main blog - @sethlost. You'll find lots of random fandom things, commentary on my music shenanigans, and reblogs of anything I laugh at. Come say hi!

Ao3 - @/seth_lost. Whump fics, fluff fics and anything I've got brainrot for. I switch fandoms faster than a race car and its lanes, so, chances are you may find something you like!

Also, I run the Whumperless Whump Event ( @whumperless-whump-event ) in July! Thought the prompts have just been posted, I'm already starting on next year's list. It's been a blast, and it hasn't even begun!

Preferences ->

The Likes (personal favorites):

Situational, accidental and non-whumper whump, sick fics, comfort, coughing up blood, nosebleeds, medical comfort, medical hurt, noble, knight, scientist, doctor, medic, and leader whumpees, sibling whumpees, whipping, tazing, and manipulative whumpers.

The Maybes (uncommon, but not squicks):

Severe torture, dubious consent, non-explicit emeto, BBU or pet whump, heavy gore, body horror

The Nopes (you won't see it here):

Explicit rape/non-con, child whump, explicit emeto, suicide, intentional self harm. If you don't enjoy these, you needn't worry about them here.

DISCLAIMER: I AM EMETOPHOBIC. Severely so. If by chance your header or profile picture contains someone vomiting or has vomit, PLEASE do not follow me. It is a severe trigger of mine.

Disclaimers ->

I support whump-as-kink. However, this is not run as a kink blog.

Feel free to tag me in posts, and send in asks!

I will reblog gifsets, fics, prompts, resources, and references. You will see lots of blood here.

I focus on male!whump.

I have several fandoms. This isn't run as a fandom-specific blog, but there will be fandom-related things here.

I am anti-censorship. I am of the opinion that all fiction deserves to exist. If you can't be normal about this, I encourage you to block me. Which brings me to--

This is not a discourse blog. This is not a politics blog. Do not ask me about discourse. I made this for fun, and I will continue running it for fun.

To emphasize: my personal political or discourse opinions will have no effect on the content you see. If you want a page free of news, you won't see any here.

Important Links ->

Persona 5: Yusuke Kitagawa; status effect whump. 3 fics

Fandom Masterlist here

Strings Universe (whumpverse featuring Android whump and super spies)

That's it for now, I think! Thanks for visiting! Stay awhile, if you fancy. And drink some water while you're at it!

terfs, homophobes, racists, the like, those who are pro censorship, and those who only want to talk about discourse are not welcome here. minors are welcome here. hi. i see you. welcome 👋

post dividers link here by @/saradika-graphics

profile photo is Simon Tam from Firefly in episode 7: Jaynestown (with color edits to make it fit my blog). here's the scene as gifs and here's the full screencap:

[saltygilmores]

Thoughts While Watching Gilmore Girls, Season 2, Episode 21- Lorelai's Graduation Day, Aka The Best Episode That Ever Episoded, My Heart Will Soon Be Exploded. Part 1

This is my all time favorite episode of Gilmore Girls. It is so dear and special to me. Why? It includes (but is not limited to) the following qualities: 1.Jess and Rory go on their only psuedo-date!!!!! EVER! 2.Lorelai is safely contained in another location..another STATE...for the entire psuedo-date! 3.Although this is unfortunately not a Certified Dean Free Episode, his presence is limited to only 1 minute of nonsense! 4.Frankly, there is no interference from ANYBODY. Just Jess and Rory being so fucking cute and alone together! 5.Milo eats a hot dog! 6.Rory follows her dear little heart, skips school, goes to New York City and in the process screws over Lorelai by missing her graduation which is what she deserves. Lorelai deserves all the bad things. Huzzah! 7. Season 3 is just over the horizon. I skipped the two previous episodes, but you can read everything else here. Let's GOOOOO. Since I skipped right past the dumpster fires that were Teach Me Tonight and whatever the godforsaken episode is that came after it, I missed a few things and can only rely on my memory and context clues. It appears that Lorelai has staged another boycott against Luke's Diner, since Lorelai Gilmore is Certified CrazyPantsMcGee and she and Luke are on the outs because his nephew got into a minor car accident. It makes sense in her mind, don't try to understand it, you might break your own brain. The episode opens with Lorelai's search for a new breakfast spot. Instead of saving a few bucks and just pouring her and Rory a bowl of cereal at home for once.

Whenever the Gilmores mention or visit other locales outside of The Hollow, it's kinda weird, because I think of Stars Hollow as a bubble cut off from the rest of normal society. Like when they go to the mall and stuff? What are you doing outside The Bubble, Citizens? The atmosphere is unsafe. But, the episodes that take place outside The Bubble, like this one, are some of the best ones. Other certified Outside The Bubble greats: The Bangles concert, the drag show, Lorelai and Emily's spa day.

I guess I missed the birth of Lane the Drummer as well.

Sure Lorelai, exploit your friend for free labor instead of sticking a fucking Pop Tart in a toaster.

The food on this show always looks amazing. Props to the Gilmore Girls food display person.

Someone on this show has a conscience. Good for her. That being said, I'm glad she throws her moral compass in the trash when she decides to skip school. Lorelai and Dean can drown in a pit of rattlesnakes.

Jackson and Sookie are sex freaks 100%. Good for them. Why couldn't they give Jared Padalecki a paycheck to sleep in every episode too? Another thing I missed in episodes 19 and 20: Lorelai going back to school.

Really, I thought her head was emptier than The Independence Inn on a Tuesday afternoon. That her one brain cell would have plenty of room to chill out, take a little swim, see the sights.

The "knowledge" stuffed in Lorelai's brain: Dean Forrester's penis size, whether or not Dean Forrester likes those little marshmallows in his cocoa, how to say "Michel, cover my shift, I'm leaving work in the middle of the day", assorted deep seated childhood traumas. Lorelai made a comment about how her finals are the last time she has to cram anything in and I thought of a joke so dirty I decided not to post it. Filtering any thought is not the SaltyGilmores way, so you should be glad I spared you.

What? You’ve finally developed an ounce of self awareness? Did you realize you're a raging bitch who leaves misery and destruction in her wake wherever she goes? Stop lobbing me so many softballs, damn. (The real answer: She hates school and learning is stupid). L: This learning thing is self inflicted! I'm a masochist! I may as well be carrying a switch and peridocally lacerating myself with it! But enough about what you and Dean Forrester do when Rory's not home.

In a future episode, after Rory has risked her future by solely applying to Ivy League schools with less than 10% acceptance rates and is unsurpisingly, experiencing doubt about whether or not she'll get in to any of them, Lorelai remarks that Rory is going to Harvard and that's that; she will not allow her daughter to end up at a Community College or, god forbid, beauty school. In Lorelai's world there are no colleges that exist for her child in between Harvard and Stars Hollow Makeup Academy. My headcanon is that Shane (if Jess hadn't fed her to the swans after the Dance Marathon. RIP ) goes to beauty school and makes a fine living. Rory carries too much pressure on her shoulders and her life and career flame out. It's a tale as old as time. To her credit, in this scene Lorelai isn't really slandering her school, but talking about how the school is so small that her ceremony will be unremarkabl. But there wil be one, so she has decided to participate. She did not walk in her high school graduation ceremony because she had a 1 year old at the time, such is the consequence of boinking Crusty Hayden on your parents' balcony in the middle of winter. R: You should do it! You've worked hard! You earned it! Yes, she's worked so hard at this for such a long time that she decided on, enrolled in, and graduated from an entire college business program over the course of two episodes. R: You should invite Gramma and Grampa. L: Forget it. They won't want to be there. I was supposed to graduate high school, go to Vassar*, marry a Yale man, and get myself a proper nickname like Babe or Bunny or Shih Tzu. Instead, I got pregnant, didn't finish school, I didn't marry your father, I ended up in a career that even Jessica Hahn** would think is beneath her. I humiliated them, the two proudest people in the world, I humliated them. I spoiled their plans. I took their fine upbringing in a world of comfort and opportunity and I threw it in their faces. I broke their hearts and they'll never forgive me. I don't want them there. It'll hurt them, and hurt me. (please see footnotes at end of post for additonal commentary on this speech) Lorelai's 16 year old daughter, who 15 seconds earlier was looking forward to her mother's graduation, but is now being trauma dumped on by her mother, and is not unaware that this is about her:

Her name is "Dean Forrester's future stepdaughter." Look at me ragging on Dean and he's not even here! Ha! HA!

Ha? :( Dean is attempting to use his feeble brain to mansplain a concept to the women. What is it?

Given his history of stalking, harrasment and verbal abuse, the thought of Dean honing his skills with a weapon should be incredibly frightening, but the girls want to hear more from this armed predator. Lorelai is very interested in how Dean Forrester yields his weapon. Dean’s Hobby Of the Episode is, *spins wheel* Skeet shooting, also known as clay pigeon shooting. (he helpfully mansplains to Rory that he is not shooting actual pigeons, that's just what the clay disks are called), and then the ladies ask several more dumb questions like "what if you actually hit a real bird?" in what is perhaps some kind of attempt by AmyShermanPalladino to show that Dean Smart Women Dumb. But I'm a grizzled veteran of your show, AmyShermanPalladino. You're not getting the "Dean is intelligent" ruse over on me this far into the second season. Nice try. R: Why are you into this? D: My dad did this when he was my age and he wanted to pass the tradition down. Your dad wishes your mom had swallowed.

I keep getting distracted by how Rory's sleeves are always tucked into her cast instead of over the cast, sorry. I've never had a cast and it just looks strange. Why am I thinking about this? Why am I like this? I like Lorelai's hoodie. There, I said something nice about her. Happy? L:If you get real good at shooting clay pigeons, do you move onto other animals like chicken and sheep? Well, future serial killers like Dean do usually start out by hurting animals. And that is the end of Dean for the entire episode. A meager one minute of Dean per episode is a dream come true. * At the first mention of Vassar, my brain immediately jumped to Bedford Diaries (aka Slutty Jess at College), where Milo's character (Richard Thorn, I mean, Slutty Jess) sleeps with his professor's estranged wife and she compliments his sexual prowess by saying "You'll make some Vassar girl very happy one day." Best not to do what I did, which is to cross pollinate the two shows and timelines in my mind (more or less against my will) and imagine some pretty horrible implications.

** I did some light Googling on Jessica Hahn, and I am NOT unpacking this reference.

[accio-victuuri]

WAYS ON HOW I STAY SANE AS A BXG 🤍

inspired by a convo i had with @rainbowsky and i thought to make a post. it’s been a while since i made a write-up like this and i think it’s timely to make one cause even now — i’m seeing new turtles. or those who are experiencing fandom burnout. no matter what group you belong to i hope this helps a bit. as someone who have been here for quiet some time, i’ll just share things i do to make my fandom life as peaceful as possible.

we really get the best of both worlds as bxgs who love two amazing guys : xz & wyb. but sometimes that also means twice the stress and everything else. whether from content they put out or the cpn side of things. i’m not saying to live in a bubble where nothing bad ever happens, however, fandom should primarily bring happiness and relief. it is not one that makes you dread everyday if things don’t go “your way”. so here’s how i manage to do that.

▸ ┈┈┈┈ • ┈┈┈┈ ◂

1. The Truth is they Don’t Owe me Anything

They don’t owe us candy/ cpn. They don’t need to make us secure of their relationship. If you are a BXG that believes in szd, then you must accept that it’s their relationship and not ours. It is between them. Whatever clues we manage to dig up and see is because we are so attuned to them. Tho sometimes I do believe they turn gremlin and leave us stuff to see— but again, we should not feel like we are entitled to be given any of that regularly. At one point, it will be the best for them to live their life and enjoy their relationship quietly. I know candy can be addicting and is one of the pillars of the fandom but it’s not everything. It should not be a make or break for you as a fan, if it is, then you may want reconsider why you’re here.

There will be times of no sweets. People must accept that it’s not 2019 anymore. They are not promoting a project together and so we will not see them like we did. Don’t compare the amount and quality of CPNs from before and now.

Just enjoy what we manage to spot and see. 🤍 Also knowing their status as celebrities, the focus of the public must be their work and not their personal life. I think they both understand the risks of them interacting and being seen together & it’s better to be safe.

2. Appreciate their career

Sometimes I feel like i’m a full on career fan lol. Considering how I first started this blog as a CPN only space then evolved into an update account and so on. The thing is I really appreciate their work and whatever content they bring us. I am a fan of them as individuals and i’m happy that I was able to make that switch. I don’t think I would last this long if all i’m here for is their relationship and interactions. I don’t blame those who left, especially back in 2021, when they found a much better CP to support. It’s their decision. But that’s the point, they were here for the “relationship” and not XZ & WYB. that’s why they left.

This is the best way to not get distracted by unnecessary things. There is so much content to get through when it comes to the boys and that should keep you distracted — you’ll have no time for negative news.

3. Stay on your own lane

I am talking about fandoms in particular. Don’t talk about other fandoms unless absolutely necessary. Don’t look for trouble by mentioning other CP fandoms. Stay in the BXG fandom as much as you can. TBH, I am SZD so I don’t see them as a CP like what other fandoms do. That’s why I don’t get really nervous when other CP fandoms have their own candies. But if they do, it’s theirs. We are not the only clowns in the world. Other people can speculate and theorize on their own pairings. Remember that before XZ & WYB, they have other CP pairings too. We are not the first. We are the most popular, strong in numbers and resilient — but we are not the only one. There will be more. Especially with the more dramas and movies they will be making in the foreseeable future. You will never be happy if you keep comparing this fandom to others.

I have personally toned down my bias towards showing off their Double Standards. And what the hell are you even doing going to other CP pairings territory? LOL. Please stop. Again. Stay on your own lane. Don’t go looking for “evidence” in other people’s home.

4. Don’t go to toxic places

Expanding on #3. Do not go to obvious toxic spaces and give yourself a headache reading their bullshit. Don’t waste your time trying to argue with antis ( twitter especially ) who are only there to goad you in the first place. I admit that sometimes I do cross over to those places especially if there is something on the hot search but I don’t do it regularly. Knowing your enemy as a strategy does not necessarily apply here. Do your best instead into making a positive environment for those who like XZ & WYB. 🤍

5. Take a break and live your life

The boys always say this and it is true. Take a break. If you catch yourself going down an unhealthy rabbit hole of fandom then please stop. Go out. Talk to your loved ones. Do some chores. Sleep. Rest. Do other things. Watch Buddy Daddies LOL.

At one point in the fandom it was truly unhealthy for me. I couldn’t sleep because of crippling FOMO. I had to accept that there will always be things I will miss. I can always catch up. There is no pressure for me to always be the first one to update and post. No one cares. I can do fandom in my own pace. It can be really overwhelming sometimes and it’s okay to take a breather. 🤍

6. Don’t crack your head open

This applies to CPN and other fan or anti theories. Don’t think too much about it. It’s not rocket science. CPN is mainly for fun and there is a little amount that goes into serious territory. There is no need to believe everything. Take what makes sense to you and stick to that.

7. Participate in the Fandom

I think one of the ways to have a good fandom experience is to be present. to participate. It doesn’t have to be anything big because I understand that not everyone has the time to do so. Personally, it took me some time to show myself because there is joy in being a lurker. Put something out there that you would want to see but you think isn’t available. Or even if there is already one out there, put your own spin to it. Don’t be overcome by the crippling fear that no one would bother reading it so you just won’t post. Someone will see it. You will. You will accomplish something and contribute to the fandom.

I’m keeping this list short and simple as a guide for those who want to live a ( mostly ) peaceful fandom life. or maybe one of these may be a reminder for you to take it easy.

The road ahead is long, so take care of yourself. 💛

[wromwood]

So, the production of The Importance of Being Earnest that I was in is now over. Honestly, it was kind of a mixed bag of an experience. It definitely wasn't the most positive experience I've had as an actor in a show. I won't get into all of my frustrations here (and if anyone from that show happens to see this post, I had no issues with my fellow actors! They were all awesome and I'm glad I got the chance to work with them), but I want to vent about something that I was reminded of today.

Our production put a modern spin on the show. While we didn't change any of the dialogue, the director chose to frame the play as a reality TV show. The manservants of the show (Lane, whom I played, and Merriman) were turned into directors and sound guys for the production. We added in a few silent roles as well: a cameraman, an assistant, and a makeup artist. It was a cool idea, and I like how it worked with the old material.

Sadly, this meant that Lane, Merriman, and the silent roles were overlooked at times. In some ways, this makes sense. Lane and Merriman only have a dozen or so lines each, with Lane originally absent in acts 2 and 3 and Merriman absent in act 1. The silent roles are, of course, silent and were invented specifically for our production. They couldn't be highlights in the original show either.

But our version of the show actually increased the workloads of myself and the actor who played Merriman. We sort of switch roles throughout the show. In Act 1, Lane is more of a director while Merriman is a boom operator. In Act 2, Merriman is more of a director while Lane is the boom operator. In Act 3, Lane and Merriman are constantly present on the sidelines, watching everything in a slightly offstage spot while one of the silent roles is the boom op. This means that for at least one act, someone is almost CONSTANTLY onstage as the boom op, walking around with arms raised and calculating where to stand so that they don't get seen by the camera guy.

Speaking of which: the cameraman. Our camera guy might have been a silent role, but his work was honestly one of the biggest parts of the show. He was constantly on stage throughout ALL three acts, his footage was streamed live on three different monitors, and the director made him do so much kneeling that his knees literally started to hurt. He may not have had lines and was invented especially for our show, but I see him as at least as important as Lane or anyone else in the cast.

... which makes it even more frustrating how overlooked our roles were. The actors for Lane (that's me), Merriman, the cameraman, and the other silent roles weren't shown on our flyers. The entire "cast" is present, but only the cast of the reality show (i.e. named roles who aren't "crew"). They aren't even really in costume! But because they're the stars of our show, they're the ones who get to be featured in our advertising. The crew don't even get a small reference of any kind. This was especially frustrating because we ALL did a picture day shoot. I dressed in black for that just like everyone else! We all took an actual group photo together (which was only used for a few seconds at the end of our shows), and then took individual photographs before a blank backdrop. Those individual photos were then edited together to make the group flyer photo, so it was a surprise to all of us that not everyone was included.

Well, it could've been worse, I hear you saying. After all, at least they can make up for it by featuring our photos next to our names in the program, right?

THINK AGAIN! Not only did they not put photographs next to our program bios, but they didn't even print our BIOS either. Instead, they provided a QR code in the program that you had to scan to get to the bios in the first place. Yes, technically, this means that the bios were accessible, but only if you had a phone on you and could be bothered to take the extra steps. We were also not informed about this and were unpleasantly surprised when we saw the programs finally printed out. One of my fellow actors even remarked that they printed everyone's bios in a previous show that this establishment put on, and that was a director's showcase.

Finally, something happened today that I couldn't help but think made this situation feel all the more heartless. (I am dramatically paraphrasing the show here, but my point still stands) Today, we were sent a surprise: the footage that the cameraman took during one of our shows was actually saved, and now it's being shared with all of us. We can actually see the footage that was broadcast to the three monitors we had set up. There was no true "pro-shot" scheduled for our show, nothing that saved the show in its entirety. This is, aside from anything the audience recorded on their own devices, the only saved footage we have of our acting.

... and I already know that it excludes nearly all of the crew and silent roles.

Like all reality shows, the cameras aren't on all of the time. There are moments in the show where the camera gets put down or covered. While I've only skimmed through some of the footage so far, I already know which moments involve the cameras going dark. Guess which moments those are.

Yup, they're the crews' moments! Without going through all this footage myself yet, I know that there's MAYBE one moment where crew members are certainly visible: one part in act 3 where some of the crew is running in and out of a doorway. When it comes to visible acting, nothing else - when we're setting up, working, or speaking - is truly documented. There's only muffled audio from a covered camera. This may be better than nothing, but compared to all of the camera time that the reality show "cast" got, it really stings.

I don't want to sound petty. I know why the "crew" doesn't show up in the video, and the production did provide us all with ONE decent memento: someone came in during a dress rehearsal to photograph us doing a run, so I and the other "crew" have some good shots of us doing our stuff.

But I think the rest of our treatment, of us being overlooked, stings so much because, well... this isn't the first time I've been a "background" or "chorus" role. I've been a sailor in HMS Pinafore. I've been Franz in Sunday in the Park with George. I've been a small contributor before. But in those productions, I still felt valued. If we could film our entire show, we did our best to do so. When we printed our programs, everyone's bios were listed. When we made flyers or pamphlets, we either just used a logo, or put a cast picture (with EVERYONE) on the other side. I was a small piece, but I was a piece nonetheless. I was a star in a constellation. I was tiny, but I was seen.

In The Importance of Being Earnest, I felt like I did a job. I got onstage when I needed to, did my best to make an impression, and then left it to the people that the audience came to see. When we told you "Come see our show!", we only showed the big faces. Yes, I promise I'm also in the show. Yes, I promise I matter to the story. I'm Lane! You know, Lane?

... I know, I'm ranting. The experience wasn't all bad. I do think people liked my performance. Hell, this probably isn't the first time an actor played Lane and was therefore promptly excluded from advertising and hype. But I do think that a well-run theater group can make everyone feel celebrated and important, no matter how small their role is. I think it's telling that I didn't feel like that in this group.

[disco-elysium-via-polls]

🎵Disco Elysium, Pt 1

Yellow moss on these stones... they're probably stolen from someone's garden.

ACELE - "Hello again." The girl looks up at you for a moment before turning back to her work.

4. "What are you doing out here in the cold?"

...

2. (Give her your hat.) "Here. You need this more than I do."

ACELE - "Thanks." She puts it on. It's a bit large for her.

Item lost: Amphibian Sports Visor

+5 XP

That had little benefit except giving us a bonus on a check we've already passed, but it made me feel better. And since we bought that hat from Siileng, we could always just go get another one.

🎵 Protorave

EGG HEAD - The large-headed youth has closed his eyes, lost in the music. Sensing you, he opens them...

"Good morning, comrade! Yeaaaaaah!"

"I found this reel of tape, maybe you can use it to hard-up Eyck's jam." (Give him the fixed hawthrone tree tape.)

EGG HEAD - "Yeagh, re-mix time!" His voice booms through the church as he takes the tape and attaches it to the empty reel slot. "Tape goes here -- into deck B." He clicks a switch, the tape starts spinning...

A hand on his ear, he listens to the audio through his headphones, and shouts…

"Wow..." His face lights up with delight. "Did you get this from Arno himself?"

EMPATHY [Easy: Success] - A great excitement is bubbling to the surface within him. This is *big*.

"What do you mean?"

"Uh, no, actually I found it tangled up in a hawthorn tree..."

EGG HEAD - "Listen, I'm just going to show it to you... Ready?"

"Ready."

EGG HEAD - "Whooh, hear that?!" He wipes his brow. "The sines match perfectly!"

"Now if only we had the beat for the *full assault*. It would be unbelievably hyper!"

ANDRE - "Intriguing. The way I see it... van Eyck based his remix on some famous original piece. Like, a folk song? Something local. Seems you found an initial part with the main melody."

NOID - "I think it's just happenstance. Chaos in action. Contingencies of our limited existence. That and Egg Head's fantastic talent." He nods to his friend behind the turntables.

INTERFACING [Medium: Success] - Noid's right, Egg Head's technical talent is the key.

LOGIC [Medium: Success] - No, this is definitely part of the same song. Something cut from it. It fits too well.

INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Success] - Something *mysterious* is going on here...

"Maybe Arno van Eyck lives around here and just threw a part of his song away, because he thought it was shit?"

"Andre's got it. Sounds like a local song re-mixed."

"I agree with Noid, it's just luck -- *and* Egg Head's incredible mixing skills."

EGG HEAD - "Be how it may -- if it fits, it fits!" He pumps his fist in the air. "Bring up the volume!"

Thought gained: Arno van Eyck

ANDRE - "What about the bass? Do you have any ideas for that?" Andre looks back at you.

NOID - "Yeah, I remember -- you said it needs more bass!"

PHYSICAL INSTRUMENT [Medium: Success] - You can't just leave it without a bass track!

"Honestly, nothing springs to my mind right now. But I'll see if I can come up with a solution down the lane." (Proceed with task.)

"I think it's good enough the way it is. Adding that melody has already been a *massive* improvement. It's pretty hard core now." (Finish task.)

EGG HEAD - "You're *THE WARRIOR*! THE WARRIOR OF DANCE MUSIC!"

ANDRE - "Don't be too hard on yourself if you don't figure it out. I think the jam's already pretty ultra."

EGG HEAD - "But it could be hyper, HYPER HARD CORE!"

5. "Alright. Goodbye, Egg Head." [Leave.]

ARNO VAN EYCK

Temporary research bonus: +1 Interfacing Research time: 0h 50m

The question won’t leave you – why did the melody line from a broken and discarded tape fit perfectly into a song played by some speedfreaks in a frozen tent? Can it be a coincidence? Maybe it’s the hand of the Man-Machine himself, in his attempt to craft a perfect song. Maybe Egg Head is actually Arno van Eyck in disguise!? Eyck? Egg? Hmm...

CHURCH DOORS - Heavy wooden doors more than twice your height stand shut in front of you. The rectangular, sea-worn ornamentation appears in stark contrast to the padlock carelessly drilled into the wood.

Open the padlock with the key.

CHURCH DOORS - The lock turns easily. You hear a click as the shackle pops open.

SHIVERS [Challenging: Success] - Feels like electricity and a very small piece of nothingness.

KIM KITSURAGI - "Let's go." The lieutenant nods at you.

+1 Reputation

Pull on the doors...

CHURCH DOORS - A great whoosh of air rushes into the dark innards of the church, as though rushing to fill a great vacuum...

... in the heart of the city.

[samkat10423]

Community Lots

Back in Sunset Valley today. Gave Agnes an older half-sister with an out-of-wedlock kid, and a much younger boy-toy. The only reason I did it was because I wanted to establish family ties between Agnes and the rebellious teen, who will be living with her. So, after making the new family, I killed 2 of them. Because as an all-powerful simgoddess I CAN!!!!! As for Agnes and the teen, they pretty much hate one another. But they've got 2 cats to like, so, that's good.

Anyway, in between killing sims, I did a couple of community lots. I moved a remake of Hogan's diner out to that stretch of lots that's on the road that comes into town - close to Agnes' house, actually. Which left me that big lot in town. So, I gave my sims a bowling alley. Because bowling alleys are sort of a staple of small, American towns. Well, they used to be. Now, not so much.

Anyway, I found a 30x20 lot over on My Sims Realty called Disco Fan Arcade. This was a much bigger space, so I decided to add on to their build and add an ice-skating arena. The original lot ended right where that section with the 3 windows begins - if that makes sense. Anyway, I expanded that outdoor patio eating area, added that area with the benches and bike rental stuff, and bumped out the back of the build a bit. Then added the town deco stuff.

Inside, their build ended where the 3 bowling lanes are. I added the ice-skating rink and a small observation area with tables and chairs and a counter where sims can rent skates. Upstairs I made into a place for serious sims to play some poker. I added some neon signage inside and out, and now need to find some skates to put behind that counter on the ground floor. But other than that, this lot is done!

Then, next to Chris Steele's house, I decided to place a church. This is another lot made by Lili. I've never used it before, but decided to give it a whirl. It also came on a much smaller lot, so I added the parking to the front and got rid of a lot of excess trees and assorted plants. Then I switched out all the windows.

Inside, I switched out the basegame furniture and used stuff from Sandy's church set. I also added some junk from one of the bridal sets. Now my sims have no excuse for always getting married in the bathroom by the toilet. They can do it up right in a church! BTW, there's a small reception room in the basement. But it's basically just some tables, chairs and a buffet table. And a tiny dance floor.

I'm still on the fence as to whether I'll be keeping it, but for now it's done. Or maybe not. I may change that tower where she placed a bell. Or just use a different lot entirely.

Then right across the road is this building. It's a new yoga studio. The original was built a gazillion years ago and came from Mod the Sims. Since there was no yoga back then, the rugs inside were purely decorative. I did make some changes to the outside. I added the fake solar panels to the roof and relandscaped it a bit.

This is how it comes when you download it. I did switch out the rugs for twinsimming's set. Plus, I got rid of all the gaudy wallpaper and used the set from @enable--llamas. Thank you! Then I added those vending machines that olomaya gave us. (Thank you!) As you can see, sims are already using the mats. That's that Bunch sim on the one mat. (He was pretty awful).

Upstairs I got rid of everything that was there. I made a small yoga room - complete with an instructor's mat - added those tables and chairs so sims can relax after class, and then gave them a place to meditate if they're so inclined. Outside, they also have a pool.

Which got me to thinking. The pool, that is. This frackin town now has 4 community pools. FOUR!!!!!!! So, now that we have that tennis mod - thank you to @riverianepondsims - I plan on bulldozing that pool behind my salon - it's the one for the apartments - and making some tennis courts. To me it makes more sense. Especially since the town pool is only a block away. So that will be my next project for this ratty town.

And that's all I managed to get done today. Because I'm old. And lazy.

[ninjastar107]

OC-tober Day five - 'Relationships'

(One-shot written ft. Alex and 5008. the whole 'backstory week' is going to be written, as part of a challenge for myself and to take a break from art.)

With every second ticking by, the dots on the task bar flicked on and off. Fans whirred sleeplessly through the metal console, disk drives chirped as needles switched lanes, and a low hum emitted from the CRT TV.

5008 continued to stare, dumping and re-dumping the thoughts that cropped up. Uncertainty, that's what it was, a worry of the unknown.

He was part of Alex, in more ways than one.

It was hard for the OS to comprehend, yet it made sense. How else would there be anything as complex in this machine if it wasn't there from the very beginning.

But how? He was supposed to be dead, it was what he was told over and over, and now suddenly that chapter of his life was being ripped out in chunks.

"I don't know how I feel right now," Alex started as he floated inside the desktop, "You're not my son, not how I remember."

5008 sadly nodded in agreement. Not even he was sure what he was.

"But you're not useless, and you're not hopeless. You're fragile and it's annoying to rebuild you, but it's important that I do that I guess. I need you, and you need me, so," He spun around with his arms folded, "we're equals."

His smile broadened some.

Alex snorted, "Don't get buddy buddy with me now. We're in the same platoon, but I still need to get to know you. Let's see if I can wipe that creepy smile off your face and get you talking."

--

His mind wondered to 'what ifs' as he corrected '08s code line by line. Where would be he now, if he had known all the time? Old, in some assisted living situation with his wife? She wouldn't be dead, not as early as she went anyway.

Those memories were fuzzy, fragmented, but he knew they had to have been important. Why would would he feel so bothered by it all still?

The fans kicked on high.

--

"It's transcription. I read my code, I look at yours, and I try to make it work. That's why it takes so long, though I bet the more I do it the faster It'll be." Alex sighed, double checking his references.

5008 tapped his knees with the tips of his nails as he sat down in the air. "I can imagine that I am hard to read."

"What? No, you're easy to read. your lines of code make sense to me, its why I knew there could be more work done on you. What's hard is that Tucker brute-forced the software that makes me compatable with anything, and it's written completely differently. A lot of it is just guessing on my end. We're just lucky that it's working." He typed away.

"I see," he said, clueless. "when he gets back, we should inform him."

"Go ahead, not like I haven't tried a million times."

A command prompt opened at his fingers. He began typing out a full report, copying excerpts of code and other issues that may reoccur. If what Alex said was true, he had a feeling he wouldn't be like this for too long.

[a-tale-never-told]

One Ride in the Sunset.

September 3rd, 2012, 4:15pm, 14th Avenue Drive, Kyoto, South Japan.

(Okay, that checks another thing off the list of chores they gave me this morning. Never expected that I'd have this much work on my hands though, considering that the paper info was really short .)

(Still, I've got a long way to go before finishing everything, so I should probably get to the post office to drop off the check now. In the meantime though, let's see what on's the radio for today, just to keep myself entertained for now)

*"After putting the paper down, Hajime reaches for the radio and begins to switch channels for anything, be it music or news*"

Brzzt!- Coming in from Toyoko, where a raccoon started to eat, what I presume is a chili dog-Brzzt!- Today on Sunday night live, we have-Brzzt!

(Hey... This actually isn't that bad of a song. It's catchy, so there is that at least, right? And it's decent for a sundown.)

*"After changing the Radio, Hajime lays back and turns to the left lane, heading for the postal area, as the song begins to play whilst the sun sets*"

(Well Haji, you've made it through the first week, and still, we haven't known anything about Natsumi, or any of the Kuzuryus. We also don't even know the reason why Honami has issues with the Kuzuryus... it's like we almost accomplished nothing last week)

( But then again, I cannot say that with certainty, as we did manage to get some stuff done, like going to the library to get some books to help me investigate the situation. As well as the fact that I managed to spend some quality hangout time with the girls outside of work)

(Speaking of that, I think that conversation really did help me calm down a bit yesterday. I honestly am glad to have people who truly care about me and my well-being, aside from my parents of course.)

(Mikan... the nurse who seems so timid and shy, yet is always caring and thoughtful of others, always willing to help the sick, old or young. She may look meek at first glance, but she's really much a sweetheart to almost everyone she comes across and I'm blessed to work with her, especially since she's so dedicated to her position as a nurse.)

( Ibuki... the girl that likes to party on and is pretty much hyperactive almost 80% of the time, but she surprisingly has a wise, contemplative mind for someone of her age. Still, I did really enjoy the wisdom she tried to give. I honestly never knew she was actually capable of doing that, especially since she seems so hyper and upbeat every single day. Still, she's pretty nice, to be honest.)

(And Chiaki... *sighs* God, where would I be without her? She's pretty much the first friend I've ever made in life, and we'd only grown stronger ever since. She's kind, considerate of others, inspiring, and just an absolutely nice person to be around. Even during the times when either I'm not in the best mood or she isn't, we both try to improve our relationship as friends, one step at a time. She pretty much tried to comfort me about my lack of talent and I greatly appreciate that.)

(I honestly don't deserve those three. They're far too sweet and compassionate for this world, which has now become a place where you have to be judged by society based on your racial color and talent. And through all of the darkness in this world, they're pretty much shining beacons of hope, to overcome the despair of feeling hopeless in life.)

( So I'll try. I'll try to take their advice seriously from now on, as this is advice to give me a healthy mindset going forward. I think the point of what they wanted to say is to be yourself and not lose your sense of self and individuality, to work for that talent while also not losing sight of the ones you love and cherish the most in life. And just... have hope for yourself and for the future. Because isn't that what life's all abo-)

BEEP! BEEP!BEEEEP!!

Wh-

CRASH!!! SHATTER!!!

KRGH!!!

"*Upon hearing those beeps, Hajime turns his head to the front to see a car coming straight at him. Seeing the vehicle right in front of him, Hinata tried to swerve out of the way, but it was too late, as the front of the car collided with the other car's front, sending shards of glass flying across the interior as both cars came to an absolute stop. One of the shards nearly hit Hinata right in the head, though he managed to get out of the way in time. Still, the impact is enough to make him fall onto the floor of the car, making him lose consciousness...*"

[edgeofrayne]

Hello everyone!

I used to have the tumblr tickle blog riskofrayne, but I deleted it in a fit of paranoia and have regretted it ever since. So here's my new tickle blog!

This is a kink blog solely (heh) for my raging tickle fetish. There will be nsft content! If you are a minor, this is not a good place for you. I will block underage blogs that try to follow me.

Also, racism, transphobia, antisemitism, islamophobia, homophobia, bigotry in general, are not welcome here. I will not hesitate to block a bitch.

I myself am over thirty years old (not putting my exact age, thank you very much), non-binary, they/them pronouns. When I was a kid I hated being tickled, to the point it was one of my biggest fears - to be tickled against my will. As I got older, that fear grew into obsession and, eventually, my biggest kink. Brains are weird.

I'm a lee-leaning, subby switch. Other kinks of mine include:

bondage

sensory deprivation

some impact play

sensation play

teasing

orgasm denial/edging

forced orgasm/overstim

There are more, and maybe someday I'll talk about them more. But they're not all ones I see much in the tickling community here and I'm not sure how much I want to get into that in a pinned post.

tags you'll see here include

tickling

tickle torment

tickle video

tickle gif

tickle art

tickle comic

tickle fic

spicy

begging

Plus various inarticulate horny keysmashing :D I like a variety of tickle media, and want my blog to represent that.

Please feel free to message me! I want to make friends in the community. I'm open to tickling roleplay too, though please be respectful if you want to initiate that - introduce yourself first and let's go from there! I'm not always a consistent tumblrina, so I may not always reply right away, but my inbox is open :)

I also sometimes dabble in writing. If you ever see short stories from the Hah-spital featuring Lane, Zoe, Maddie, Rich, and Terry, that's me! I wrote those under my old riskofrayne account. I may share them here again. Though I'm thinking it would be fun to expand some of them and put together an ebook. Maybe getting back into some fetish modeling, especially tickling sessions. Getting wrecked on the regular seems like a fun job, doesn't it?

I feel like I'm rambling, and this is just supposed to be an introduction. So that's good enough for now. Thanks for reading, if you made it this far, and I hope you have a lovely day.