#no illegal things here in the slightest

[your-god-empress-lavender]

NEW intro post

So, tumblr deleted my old into post because they said i was doing illegal behavior, specifically "human trafficking or illegal prostitution". As someone who has never in her life been involved with or in any way promoted such things, i'd say they're wrong, but in the e-mail they sent me they seemed pretty damn sure of it. Anyway, i can't seem to find a good way of reporting their erroneous deletion of my introduction, so hopefully i did it right.

The intro part: My name is Lavender, i use she/her/hers, they/them/theirs, and it/it/its. I enjoy not being imprisoned for crimes, so generally i don't commit them. Despite everything, i do enjoy being able to use this website and my account which has a lot of good stuff, so i might go back and prune the things that have potential to be construed as in any way illegal. I am interested in so, so many things. One of these things is not being falsely accused of committing crimes. Another is biomedical engineering. I'm a trans chaos demon who also happens to be a girl. I would probably write other things but i'm tired and i have things to do. Things like not committing crimes. That is something i do all day every day, not committing crimes. "I do not [commit crimes], that is my least favorite thing to do".

[gingerdusk]

Slowpoke Tails - Shed vs Chopped

Okay, so there's something of a discrepancy between how Slowpoke tails are treated by the Pokémon franchise. Initially, it was understood that these are a tasty, unethical luxury item, starting in Gold/Silver/Crystal and mirrored in Heartgold/Soulsilver:

The whole plot here is that Team Rocket has taken the Slowpoke in the Azalea Slowpoke Well and chopped their tails off to sell on the black market. These run for a whopping 1,000,000 PD a pop ($10k in USD).

But then, in later generations, it's said that Slowpoke tails fall off naturally. In fact, they're a crucial part of both Alolan AND Galarian cuisine:

The curry ingredient even sells for a measly 2,200 PD ($22 USD).

So what gives? Why is it a Million-Poké black market item when you can get a package off your local hiker?

Easy. Sweetness.

Slowpoke use their tails to fish for food. Typically, they do this by dipping their tails into the water, then letting the current catch the sweet sap they give off and bring it to hungry Water-types.

When a Slowpoke sheds its tail, it's because the tail's ability to generate sap has dried up. It's no longer useful as fishing bait, so the Slowpoke has to either get rid of the tail, or starve.

Shed Slowpoke tails, the ones commonly available for cooking, aren't sweet in the slightest—they're more like heavily-marbled tuna steaks, somewhere between beef and fish with a lot of fat dripping from them, and a rich umami flavor.

Chopped Slowpoke tails, the kind you find on the black market, are a completely different experience. The meat is more tender, the flavor a lot more delicate, with a sweetness permeating it that's a lot like the honey glaze on a ham.

Naturally, chopped Slowpoke tail then becomes a novel experience. Because you have to take it from a Slowpoke, you can't just find it lying around.

So why, then, is it illegal enough for Rocket to move in on? Why is Slowpoke farming or hunting for those sweet tails not a thing? They still grow them back afterwards, so what's the deal?

The problem with chopping a Slowpoke's tail off is that, even though it regenerates, its body wasn't ready to do so. This can cause a whole lot of complications for the poor thing.

A tail doesn't regenerate from nothing, for starters: every time you cut a tail off unexpectedly, the Slowpoke's body rushes to make a replacement, using up its body's fat reserves. This causes VERY rapid and dangerous weight loss, and a frankly ridiculous amount of stress.

Incorrect cuts can cause deformities, like a tail growing back too short, not being able to make enough sweetness to bait fish Pokémon, or even Espeon-tail syndrome, where the tail splits into two at the end.

And, perhaps most egregiously of all, a cut too high might mean the Slowpoke never regrows its tail at all. If you cut into anything that's not specifically tail tissue, the body will begin the scarring process over the wound, removing the Pokémon's ability to fish and evolve. And while it can learn to survive by fishing manually, like its evolutionary counterpart is required to, oftentimes, Slowpoke will just sit by the water and starve, not realizing that they aren't getting a bite because there's just nothing to bite.

In short: Shed = ethical, chopped = unethical, possibly lethal.

Slowpoke responsibly, guys.

[anashins]

King of the Streets

Pairing: street racer!Jaehyun x journalist!reader

Genre: street racing au, action, drama, romance, slow burn, smut

Word Count: 28k (I just can't write short stories, I'm sorry)

Summary: The moment you find yourself hiding in the backseat of a sports car that's illegally racing through the city, you just know this story will finally catapult you to the top of your journalism career. But there are a few things you haven't reckoned: How personal this story will eventually turn - and the driver's sheer insatiable craving for lollipops. And for you.

A/N: I started this after Jaehyun admitted he would have liked to become an F1 racer if the idol-path wouldn't have worked out for him. I spiraled and this is the outcome - I hope you have fun reading it as much as I had writing it!

“It’s been three years since I’ve started working here, and-”

“Unfortunately, this doesn’t matter, miss.”

For an entire week, you had prepared yourself for this meeting with your editor-in-chief. You had written down all your achievements from when you were an intern to your current position. 

And he had the nerve to tell you it all didn’t matter?

It had been three very long years with too many nights spent in the office to meet a deadline you were not responsible for, trips all across the country on your own account for stories that hadn’t even made it into the magazine, and work meetings where no one had bothered listening to your ideas and input.

After all the hard work and sleepless hours you had poured into your dedicated passion, it was unfathomable to you how he didn’t even bother bringing up the slightest interest in what you had to say, and it showed all over face in the form of widened eyes and slightly parted lips.

“Others have started prior to you and they’re in the exact same position,” your chief editor said, swaying in his chair. The city’s skyline spread behind him like a painting as the sun was setting, and more than once had you already imagined yourself in that spot. “What makes you think you’re better than any of them?”

An imaginary note popped up in your head. You got this, you were prepared for this. “I’m one of the firsts to go and one of the last to leave, I wrote the most clicked article on our website - to this day. I offer input to everyone who hasn’t got something going on, my personal and professional network that I’ve built throughout the past years is wide and strong. I’m the first one to take on suggested topics, the number of articles I publish per month is the highest out of all editors, I’m always up-to-date, I live for this job.”

The middle-aged man leaned forward and propped his elbows against the glass table, inspecting you thoroughly while you were bracing yourself to elaborate every bullet point. But he only said, 

“No, I don’t think so.”

You were flabbergasted. “Pardon me?”

“I don’t think you actually live for this job,” he explained calmly. “For that, it takes more than research and cranking out as many articles as possible just because your writing is good. It is, trust me, but the stories lack emotion and graspable actions. Right now, you’re only sitting in front of the computer, writing from your imagination. You don’t live the stories, you’re not in them.”

“I take trips across the country to attend events, I participate in every press conference possible, I-”

Again, he interrupted you, “Hara got in contact with a designer and walked for his show as an amateur model. Dal went to the rooftop of the highest building in this city and took pictures that even made it into television.”

“But that is illegal,” you commented. “Hara smuggled herself in when one of the models fell sick and Dal nearly got caught by the police.”

“And we would’ve bailed for all of them.” He sighed deeply as if annoyed by repeating himself. “See, this is what I’m trying to say, miss. The writing that you’re delivering is clean and conformable to law. When I read your articles, I’m well informed, but nothing sticks in my head. We’re a magazine, not a newspaper. Nobody wants to read about the opening of a new restaurant when they can read about things they will never be able to experience themselves. You have to dive in the story, be in the story to make people believe they’re in them too when they read it.”

You were quite taken aback as you noticed he remained polite when all he wanted to say was, “So, my stories are too boring, not sensational.”

The editor-in-chief let out another long sigh and fell back into his chair. “You have a trademark, but you have to get out of your secure shell to actually go somewhere, otherwise you’re going to get stuck.”

You were a goody two-shoes was what he tried to tell you. You were on the top when it was about writing, grammar and quantity, but your stories didn’t attract anyone’s interest, and if that wasn’t the case, then you could write as many perfect articles as you wanted - you would never get a higher position.

You inhaled deeply. “So, what do you suggest I’d do?”

His answer was clear, “Look for a story that will change lives. Write a story that will leave people breathless, and you’re getting the position of a senior editor. Because miss, you’re one of the most capable journalists here, but you don’t only need to be capable, you need to be a storyteller. If you can do this, propose the topic to me next week. If it’s what I expected, it will make headlines in the next issue and secure your new position.”

If only it were so easy.

____

You were sitting in the fast food restaurant with your notebook opened in front of you. Every single page was blank even though you had been there for several hours already, the ballpen in your hand having barely moved ever since.

“Do you want to order something else?”

“I’m good, thank you.”

You could only imagine the eyeroll the waitress let out when she turned away from you after not getting another order for two hours. But you were already short of cash this month and wouldn’t get paid for another week. 

Another reason why you needed the senior position: as a regular editor, you could barely get by. Why were journalists underpaid anyway when they were the source of daily news and this connected the world? You had never understood.

Many ideas had flown into your head, from working a day in a job that was notorious to interviewing an infamous inmate, but none of these were exciting or extraordinary enough like it was expected of you. The topics that you came up with didn’t immediately peak interest when you researched about what your fellow editors had ever written about. And what you found left you nearly speechless and doubting yourself.

Yes, you had always been tame, reserved, a goody two-shoes. That was why your mind was also not expanding to the way it was expected of reporters. Perhaps, you were not made for this job as you could also not quite learn how to do it right. 

Should you perhaps change to newspapers after all? But the open positions were always so rare and you had wanted to start at your current magazine because it was the most famous in the country…

“Where are you going after this?”

“I’m going to watch the race, Falcon against Antelope!”

“They’re set for tonight? I didn’t know!”

“Pscht, not so loud!”

Since you already lost focus and let other people’s voices into your mind, you could also pack your things and go home. You were already so done for the day.

“Can I come with you? It’s been so long since the last time I went.”

“Sure. They’ll start at midnight, so we have to hurry.”

You zipped up your handbag and threw a few bills on the table, already with one arm up the sleeve of your jacket when you perked up your ears.

“Falcon will make a comeback, so tonight there will be a lot of cash flowing!”

“Wow!”

You cleared up your throat and walked up to the two young women on the nearby table whose conversation you had been partially involuntarily listening to for the last minute. Despite your attention only shifting to them much later, you got the gist of the entire story. 

It was about illegal street racing, you had read an article about it a few months ago in which the alias Falcon had also been mentioned along with another animal that you had forgotten. 

The Falcon was only stuck in your mind, because there had been an accident caused by him, and ever since then, the police were paying even more attention to these kinds of illegal activities. The fact that there would be a race tonight must be a well hidden secret. 

“Excuse me, I overheard you’re also going to watch the race?” you feigned knowledge and quickly made up a story that would get them to talk. “Can you tell me where exactly they’ll start? I was going to meet my friend here who’s got all the info, but she’s not arrived yet and I’m afraid I’m gonna be late.”

They looked at you in wonder, then in amazement. One of them, apparently the better informed one, then nodded eagerly before describing the exact spot to you. “I guess it’s going to be quite full since it’s the first one with Falcon since the… incident. So everyone wants to see him. They’ll start at the industrial park at midnight.”

You nodded. “Thank you. Maybe we’ll see each other there.” You waited a bit until they had left the restaurant and then pondered whether to join or not. 

There had already been many articles written about the Falcon and street racing in common, but since the most controversial racer would make a comeback, this race would be a special one, perhaps even kept secret to a point where no other media outlet knew about it. There was a slim chance that you were going to be the only reporter, so regardless of your current struggles, you had to take this opportunity.

Yes, an article about the Falcon’s comeback was good, but that was by far not enough for the story of your lifetime. It was better than nothing though, a beginning. And who knew what could come out of it. 

As a journalist, you had learned that you were better off going and had something expected to write about rather than not going and missing on unexpected happenings.

So you headed to the industrial park.

____

When you arrived at the destination, you spotted a crowd that had formed in a wide, clear space between two buildings. There were about fifty spectators that had gathered, divided into different groups of various sizes, lights coming from the street lamps all around the place. 

Through the gaps between the cliques that all seemed too engaged with each other to notice how lost you were, you discovered a group of men that marked themselves off everyone else.

It wasn’t particularly the way they were dressed as they all wore black leather, but rather the presence they radiated. But you couldn’t deny the fact that all of them were equally overly handsome, just in a way you wouldn’t be drawn to. You weren’t intimidated, you were scared to the bones, and you immediately wanted to turn on your heels and run right back home.

You weren’t much informed about the topic of illegal street racing aside from the few articles you had read. You only knew that it was one of the most dangerous underground activities that had cost a few lives already, of drivers and passerbyers almost equally. It was macabre that articles like these gained the most attention, clicks and sales.

Although you weren’t quite passionate about this kind of topic let alone approved of it, it was the best that you could come up with for now. You wanted to prove to your editor-in-chief that you were willing to take risks, willing to leave your comfort zone for the job - even if this wasn’t going to be the final story.

But now that you were right in the middle of this happening, you were getting cold feet. This wasn’t right. If you were caught as a spectator, would the police detain you too? And would your boss truly bail you out?

“Place your bet!”

You flinched when a young man popped up right next to you with a tablet in his hand, looking at you with expectant eyes.

“Pardon?”

“Place your bet!” he repeated. “Falcon against Antelope.”

“Oh, I only came to watch,” you waved aside. “But thank you!”

“You’re here for the first time, am I right?” The guy’s eyes narrowed. “Place. Your. Bet. This is how we’re financing this all. No money, no races.”

This wasn’t a question anymore, this was a demand, and you figured that if you were going to remain undercover, you had to play along and pretend to be like everyone else, even though you didn’t know the rules to this game. The guy was scanning you from head to toe, and it took you everything to restrain yourself from shaking when you took the tablet into your hands. 

You had changed your mind entirely by now. You just wanted to be out of here as fast as possible, no matter what the editor-in-chief might say about this lost opportunity. It just wasn’t worth all this stress and fear. After all, you were quite attached to your life and a clear criminal report. It wasn’t that bad to be a goody two-shoes.

Still, you had to place a bet before you could vanish so that the guy would stop bothering you, so you scanned the display laying in your palms.

There were two columns, one belonged to the Falcon, the other to the Antelope. Each column was divided into different cells with the name and the amount of money one betted. No one had placed a single bet on the Falcon. 

What was there to lose when the money would be gone from you one way or another since you were going to leave right after this anyway? You wouldn’t win a single penny.

So you placed a fake name and 70.000 Won for the Falcon, which was ironically the lowest bid for the Antelope. You noticed that most of the other people had betted much more, making you wonder about the total amount the winner could collect. But 70.000 Won was already very much for you, so you stuck with that.

“The Falcon, huh?” The guy grinned. “Risky, but I like the way you think. We only accept cash. Today it’s 20 million won so far for the winner, and ten percent of it gets split between the right betters depending on their bets. Maybe you’re lucky tonight and win ten percent of the entire amount yourself.”

You were holding yourself back letting out an audible gasp as it truly sounded tempting, and instead reached into your bag and pulled out your purse. 70.000 Won was a small price for your life, and you couldn’t wait to finally leave and never turn back. How high were the chances the Falcon was going to win anyway when nobody believed he would?

The guy grinned when he collected your money. “Interesting. It’s going to be an interesting race today. Good luck!”

He then went on to bother someone else all while you checked your surroundings for a hidden, but secure exit. Since you had used a fake name and only one person had seen your real face up close, it would be easy getting away unnoticed. 

And you did. 

Sliding along the buildings with your back pressed into the outer walls, nobody paid attention to you since the race was about to begin and a turmoil broke out shortly after your bet. You had been weighing yourself in safety, currently hiding in a blind, dark spot in the entrance of a different building with the street to freedom in sight when you suddenly heard male voices speaking up.

“Ready, Jaehyun?”

“More than you are.”

You froze on the spot when you saw several tall figures coming in your direction, their bodies illuminated by the street lamps, and you recognized the intimidating men dressed all in black leather who had been right in the middle of the crowd shortly before. 

You couldn’t go back or forth, because either side was illuminated and would set the spotlight right on you, and flight forward would mean running directly into their arms. You could only push the door to the building behind you open and…

You found yourself standing in some kind of huge factory hall where only two cars were parked, the rest was entirely empty. Who in their right mind would rent a whole factory building for only two cars? Yes, they were expensive sports cars from what you could tell, the kind of ones that would catch everyone’s attention on the streets because of how luxurious and tuned they were… but an entire hall?

You were still processing and connecting all of this new information when the same door through which you had entered got pushed open again, and in walked all men that you had run from shortly before.

Your heart suddenly lept, and you feared that this was what a heart attack might feel like, yet you were very much still alive as you were able to desperately look for a spot to hide again while they hadn’t discovered your presence yet, but lingered by the entrance with the focus on two of them talking.

Out of reflex, as one of them turned into your direction, you fell to your knees and hid behind one of the cars - the matte black one -, suppressing a gasp the moment this exact car unlocked with a sound and flash from afar.

“I’m not afraid of you. I pity you.”

You needed a new spot to remain hidden with footsteps approaching this vehicle. Right now.

“And why would that be, Jaehyun?”

You had to think of something safe, but there was barely time anymore.

“Because you’re going to lose the race today.”

No way in hell.

There was no way in hell these were the racing cars! But of course, now everything made sense as to why those cars were being kept here, you just had been in too much of a panic to have connected the dots.

How you found yourself inside that matte, black car at this moment of realization, you couldn’t tell. Just like you couldn’t tell how you could have hoped to get out of this situation unnoticed all while hiding in a crouching position in the backseat with the only way to escape being visibly passing by these men.

If only you had stayed behind the car or under the car if you were to be discovered anyway, you could have somehow talked yourself out of this situation. But how were you going to explain you had actually sneaked into a racing vehicle? Out of all the dumb things you had ever done, this made it to the top of your list. 

You flinched and threw yourself down into the small legroom between the driver’s seat and backseat, when you heard the door in front of you open and a figure seated himself behind the steering wheel.

No way this was your situation now!

Everything was better than ending up inside one of these cars, hearing it start and rolling out of the hall.

This… this situation couldn’t be real.

If you just stayed crouched in the legroom, not giving away a single tone or making a single move, maybe you still had a chance to survive this ride unnoticed. How you would handle this situation when you returned and had to reveal yourself if you didn’t want to be locked inside that car until you died of thirst… that was something you didn’t want to think about yet.

After a few feet, the car came to a stop in the clearing among the spectators, and you made yourself even smaller in case someone might want to get a look inside. By the way the crowd cheered and rejoiced, you hoped that the racer was the Antelope for god knows which reason. They were both racers with the intention to win by all means.

The noise got louder, went from muffled to clear, and you realized the driver had pulled down the window.

“Everything ready?” A male voice.

“I’m ready,” was the driver’s dry answer, a deep voice with a calming, soft undertone. 

The engine was raving up, and you were tucked between the passenger’s seat and the backseat in a hole that was too tight, but because of that it was also the safest spot for the ride as there was no room to move anyway. Turning your head against the window at the opposite of you, you only saw light that flooded in and nothing else.

Dear god, you found yourself praying for the first time in your life, please let me live.

“Jaehyun, do you hear me?”

You flinched when you heard another voice.

“Clear and loud.”

“Only ten seconds left.”

“Okay.”

Was he communicating through a two-way radio with someone? You hadn’t expected this race to be so well-planned and coordinated. Was it always like this? This was an interesting and not widely known point. You only hoped your memory would keep all this information saved as you for sure wouldn’t be able to take out your notebook and write everything down now. 

This was the journalist inside you taking the upper hand again. If you were already in this situation, you were going to write the hell out of it. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity you would never get again, the exact situation your editor-in-chief had talked about.

This was going to be your headline story. You only hoped what he had promised was true and your company would really bail you out if it came down to this. Or pay for hospital bills. There was no way you would be able to leave unscathed, physically and emotionally.

“Three!” the crowd yelled that you could also hear in the car as though you were standing among them.

“Two!” Your fingers gripped onto leather and something metallic, you couldn’t really tell. 

“One!” You closed your eyes.

“GO!”

How equally unlucky and lucky you were to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. Or right place at the right time, it depended.

____

You were absolutely not safe in your hiding spot as expected. You got tossed and flung into every direction possible, and if it weren’t for the narrow space in which you had tucked yourself in, you believed that you would have been hurled into the seat right next to the driver already. 

But you were gripping hard onto the cushions like your life depended on it just to prevent this from happening as the car sped through the streets and took every curve with such a sharp edge, you were amazed the vehicle didn’t drive on one side only by then. In your location, you weren’t quite able to catch the car’s speed, but only guessed by the street lights flashing by in less than a single second, which was, in your non-existent experience, quite much.

While the driver was talking to the person at the other end of the radio who was giving him directions and tips, navigating him away from police controls and crowded locations, you started to feel a bit braver with no more sharp curve having come in miles anymore. Most likely, you were on the highway now.

So you slowly arose and got on your knees. Curiosity eventually had gotten the better of you, and you wondered what the world outside looked like. In the end, no matter how you would come out of this, you had to make sure it must have been all worth it. 

You had to come to the conclusion that if you moved a bit higher to look out of the window, he might spot your head from his position if he looked in the rear window. With a muted curse, you crouched back down, but instantly got hit by another idea. Dragging the phone out of your handbag was quite an act when you barely couldn’t move, but once you had managed to do so, you inwardly hyped yourself up.

You turned on the camera and pressed the record button, then imperceptibly motioned the phone over your head and let the upper part peek out of your lair with the camera facing out of the window. If he would look, then he would barely see anything, probably mistake the black edge of your phone for a shadow or a part of the car’s interior.

When suddenly a ringing tone broke through the silence inside the car though, you nearly let your device fall with a gasp. You thought you had the ringtone silenced for the entire day already, how was it possible?!

“Hello,” the driver suddenly greeted, and only then it took a load off your mind. It wasn’t your phone that had rung.

“Jaehyun, when will you come home?” The female voice sounded playful, childish. A kid? Perhaps a teenager even?

“Why are you still awake?” The driver named Jaehyun chided with feigned sternness, of whom you still didn’t know what he looked like and whether he was the Falcon or the Antelope. “It’s past midnight and you have school tomorrow.”

“I was waiting for you to come home.”

“But I won’t be home for another hour. It’s going to be late tonight.” The driver sighed, and he sounded very regretful. “I’m sorry.”

“Jaehyun, are you currently racing?”

Silence followed, and suddenly, you felt like you were going to overhear something no one else was supposed to eavesdrop. Like an intruder - which you technically and obviously were since this was obviously a conversation between two family members. 

The driver repeated, “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay, I won’t tell mom. I’ll tell her you’re studying in the library again.”

A yawn followed on the other side, and suddenly, you heard the driver snicker. Somehow, it didn’t fit his attitude that you had gotten a glimpse at earlier. Even his responses to the person at the other side of the radio had always been short and curt. But to this young person, he was entirely different.

“I will wait for you. Mom said I shouldn’t, but I cannot sleep if I don’t know you’re home.”

“I’ll come home safe.”

“Promise?”

“Promise, sis. I will always come home safe.”

Your arm that was holding the phone quietly slipped back into your lap, and you stayed silent for a very long time after they had hung up. This was so wrong. You had signed up for an adventure, not to listen to an intimate conversation between siblings that somehow also warmed your heart. 

If you had learned anything from it, then it was that the driver was indeed a kind person deep within. It didn’t matter what he did, for what he did it and who he was in the end, Antelope or Falcon. They were people with stories, and if you were the journalist you claimed to be, you needed to look at both sides of the coin and bring out everyone’s own perception.

Wasn’t this what your editor-in-chief wanted? A headline that didn’t go “Illegal street racer makes a comeback! We are the first ones to interview him” but rather “He risked it all for his little sister, and now he’s back - read here about the tragic backstory of one of Seoul’s most dangerous men!” or something along these lines.

After you had gathered yourself again, you looked at your phone while the roads started to turn bumpier now. You assumed you had reached the outskirts and were hopefully on the way back to where it had all started. Gosh, you prayed for that, even though you hadn’t come up with a plan to explain your situation at all yet.

The video on your phone showed you exactly what you had expected to see: nothing but a blur of whites and black. Great. It was useless. But what had you even expected?

“We have a problem.”

You perked up your ears as you heard the other familiar voice through the radio.

“What is it?” the driver grumbled. “Not long and we’ll…” He paused, and even with the missing eye contact, you sensed how the mood had suddenly shifted. “I haven’t seen him in  a while…”

“Exactly. There is an undercover police car underway, the informants have just told us, and it’ll stop right where you have to pass through. The Antelope apparently knew about this and already took another route.”

Antelope?! You knew you didn’t want to judge, but out of all possibilities which was 50/50, of course you would have ended up in the Falcon’s aka Jaehyun’s car, the very same person you had mindlessly betted on. What were the odds?

The Falcon snorted. “Now, will you tell me he didn’t set this up himself?”

“No accusations now. Let’s think about what’s best to do. We’re currently in Gangdong-Gu, you somehow have to leave the highway.”

“There is no possibility,” he growled back. “It’s a suburb, there is no way I can pass through it on time and unnoticed for me to win the race.”

“I’ll navigate you the best I can.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. The streets are so short and narrow, it will take too long and is too complicated.”

“You can’t get caught by the police, Jaehyun. And they’re almost right in front of you. It’s better to-”

“Don’t!” he cut the person on the other end off. “I won’t give up. Not this time again. I need this win and money, you know that. It’s my comeback and reputation that I have to restore.”

“But what your family needs is you, more than money or your reputation.”

Silence. Your front teeth sank deep into your bottom lip as you were quarreling with yourself in silence. You knew what was right and what was wrong, what was legal and what was illegal, and what you were currently doing with the driver was far from being within the law as a matter of fact. 

But his little sister wanted him to come home so that she could go to sleep…

“HEY!” you screamed and suddenly appeared from behind his driver’s seat.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

The car swerved to the left, hurling you out of your lair and right into the edge of the backseat with a dull pain that shot from your stomach right into every limb. You gasped for air.

“WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU AND HOW DID YOU GET IN HERE?” Despite you still not being able to face him, you got a glimpse of his face when you looked at it through the rear window. Clear anger and also shock was written all over it. You couldn’t blame him. “ANSWER TO ME NOW!”

“Don’t… have time,” you breathed and rubbed your back, getting on your knees and slowly rising from your position. “Gangdong-Gu… that’s where I grew up. I know this place inside out. I’ll navigate you.”

“Jaehyun, who is that with you in your car? That’s a rule violation!”

“I don’t fucking know who this is!” he yelled again, but not as loud as before, and before he could react to your actions, you had already crawled over the expensive interior and settled yourself in the passenger’s seat. “Who are you?!”

With a click, you fastened the seatbelt and looked out of the window. You knew exactly where you were now. “Take the second exit from here. We will pass by within the next two minutes. You will have to drive through a part of the neighborhood to change highways, but you’ll be fine at this hour. Once you have changed motorways, you’ll even reach the destination quicker. Is that a rule violation too? Taking a shortcut through the suburbs?”

You tilted your head and met his flabbergasted expression as he was staring at you with equal intensity where also curiosity was mirrored. “Uhm… usually we avoid that to not accidentally hurt any passerbyers. But…”

“It’s not a violation of the rules,” the person on the radio jumped in quickly. “It’s just unethical and something we would not like to risk.”

“Okay, thanks radio-guy.”

“Welcome, uhm… intruder-lady?”

“I did not intrude!”

“Well, how the fuck would you call this?” the Falcon interrupted.

“I don’t have time to explain now.” Your arm shot up and you pointed at a sign. “Take this exit! Right now!”

From the corner of your eyes, you clearly saw him struggling whether to trust you or not. Fair enough. You were a stranger that had hidden in his car and were now only popping up when it was about winning or losing. If anything, you could have been smuggled in by the Antelope’s team as well. No wonder he was doubting whether he could trust you.

“Screw it.”

You got thrown to the left when he suddenly swerved and left the highway according to your instruction. With your right hand, you grabbed the handle under the window for stability, once again questioning all your life choices. But you had thought long and clear about this. Having decided on helping him would result in the best outcome for your situation.

“Three rules,” he suddenly said when he drove into the neighborhood.

You shook off all your fears, speaking confidently, “I’m listening.” 

“First. No word to anyone about what’s happening and what you’re doing right now. Nobody can know you’re in here.”

Why did he sound so intimidating? “Got it.”

“Second, you will lead me through this neighborhood without any incidents. Slow, steady and clear, you’ll be the navigator, the guy at the other side helps you from afar. One wrong turn, one accident or even the danger of one, and one late instruction, and I’ll kick you out of the car right there and then.”

No pressure, no pressure at all, you thought ironically to yourself. “Got it.”

“And third,” a voice on the radio chirped, “Don’t forget to have fun!”

“Shut up, Taeyong.”

“Third,” the Falcon repeated, “when we’re back at the venue, you’ll stay hidden inside here until someone comes and gets you.”

What would happen after, you didn’t dare to ask. Surely, they wouldn’t get rid of you… right? Either way, your fate had been sealed the moment you decided to come watch the race, so you gulped silently and gave a final nod.

The car came to a halt in front of a very familiar street. Everything was dark, empty and quiet. You took a deep breather and the Falcon’s head snapped in your direction. When you faced each other the next moment, you took a spare second to study his face.

If he weren’t in a racing car, you could imagine him very well sitting in a café, sipping coffee and typing something into his laptop, maybe even wearing glasses and ordinary street clothes, possibly even joggers. 

He was just a normal dude under all these leather clothes that made him appear very tough, emphasized by this constant scowl on his face that was - admittedly - very handsome. After years in your field of expertise, you could read people very well and only seldomly were you wrong.

“Ready?” he asked, not breaking eye contact.

Neither did you. “Ready.”

The adrenaline flushed through your veins the moment he hit the gas pedal.

____

“Didn’t you sleep much last night?” your co-worker asked when you yawned for the nth time that morning.

What were you supposed to answer? 

“I only got home at 4am last night, because I was street racing?”

So instead, you said, “I just couldn’t fall asleep, don’t worry.”

Nobody would believe you. And yet, these were the stories that everyone sought after. But only one ride was not resourceful enough and didn't contain enough substance for a decent plot. You needed the people behind it, the backgrounds and the experiences. 

But after you had gotten out of the car, these people have made it very clear to you that you shouldn’t appear in a race ever again, not even as a spectator, and that your lips needed to be sealed for eternity. The fact that they had let you go without any consequences was only out of mercy because you had contributed to the victory - with a violation of rules though. 

You had learned pretty quickly though that most of the time, they ignored these rules as long as nobody got hurt as physical incidents that included innocents were the highest breach of violation - just like the Antelope who had apparently cheated like the Falcon had assumed. But since nobody got proof, there hadn’t been more consequences than a few verbal attacks. As long as nobody had seen you inside the car and could prove it somehow, you were fine. 

The only person that had thanked and had been nice to you was the Falcon’s navigator, Taeyong. He had even looked very sorry for what you had been through when he had opened the door to the car and you stepped out of the hideout between the backseat and passenger’s seat with shaking legs.

The Falcon hadn’t even looked at you twice when you walked out of the building - with all the money. Yes, surprisingly, they had still given you ten percent of the prize money. It was all rightfully yours since you had been the only one betting on the Falcon. Your bet had been officially registered and you had won, so it was fair and according to the rules that you would get what you earned, Taeyong had explained. 

Deep down, you sensed that he only didn’t want to admit they wouldn’t have won without you, and this was them paying off their debt. After all, you hadn’t given out your real name, so they could have just said the betting person vanished. But you didn’t push the topic and saw it as hush money that you luckily needed anyway, and accepted it. Racers had a very high sense of ethics, you had learned by now. A thank you from the Falcon wouldn’t have hurt though. But instead, he had said you should never appear in front of his eyes ever again. What a rude man.

“Okay,” your co-worker said, “shall we go through the index for the next issue and compare the page numbers? Two pairs of eyes work better than just one.”

“Sure! Let me get the notes about what the editor-in-chief said. There were some important points he mentioned that had changed…”

You reached into your handbag to look for your notebook when at that moment, the telephone on your desk rang and showed the lobby’s shortcut number.

“There is someone waiting here for you, miss.”

“Alright, I’ll come downstairs.”

You wondered whether you had actually missed a meeting or an interview that you had set up for a story, but nothing actually came into your mind when you took the elevator and rode downstairs to the lobby. 

At the front desk, you asked the lady where your visitor was waiting since you hadn’t spotted a familiar face as you passed by the waiting area. When she pointed at a figure sitting on the couch, slumped on the cushion, you needed to blink twice to match the face with your memories.

“You?!” you then called out when you stood in front of the young man.

He wore a snapback, glasses, joggers and a loose long sleeve. Between his lips, he carried a white stick, and you already wanted to call him out that smoking was not allowed in here when you realized that the stick was too thin to be a cigarette. It turned out to actually be a lollipop. When your gaze fell to his feet, you were able to count every single naked toe as he wore slippers. You were right. He normally didn’t look like this nighttime-self at all. During the daytime, he was just a normal guy who appeared to have just gotten out of bed.

When the Falcon arose from his seat, he didn’t even greet you. Instead, he took the lollipop out of his mouth, round and red, and just thrusted a notebook into your hands. Your notebook - the one you had wanted to fetch from your handbag earlier and which you needed for the meeting with your editor-in-chief later. You had been so sure that it was in your handbag this entire time!

“This was still in the backseat of my car. Take better care of your belongings. And don’t put your business cards everywhere. It’s not everyone’s business where you work or what your contact information is.” He then shrugged, made the lollipop disappear between his lips again and turned aside to walk past you, but you held him back by his arm. 

“Wait!”

Slowly, he shifted his head back to you and asked lazily, but clearly despite the sweet in his mouth, “What is it now?” 

He shook your grip off, but you just bluntly asked the question that had been on your mind this entire morning, “Let me ride with you one more time, please?”

He drew his brows together as if you had just asked the dumbest thing a woman your age could ask a man. And apparently, judging by his answer, you had done exactly that. 

“Are you nuts?”

“You see, I’m a journa-”

“You people really think you’re superior,” he scowled, and you were taken aback. “Making money off of people’s personal stories, aren’t you guys embarrassed? I shouldn’t have returned your notebook at all. You’re all just selfish bastards.”

With a lowly look at you, the Falcon put more distance between you two, and although you were frozen on the spot and dumbfounded at first, you didn’t want to let him leave like this. Clearly, he had a prejudice about you journalists that you had to resolve. 

“I’m not one of those journalists that make money off other people!” you told him when you had caught up with him, but by then you were already outside on the streets. “I tell real, verified stories, and only what people allow me to write! Only the truth!” He didn’t reply, but just continued walking, and you decided to follow him. “I’ve never lied or done anything without consent to write my stories. And that is what my editor-in-chief is always criticizing since this apparently holds me back from getting a promotion. In his eyes, I’m a goody two-shoes who doesn’t take any risks. But the truth is… I can’t do that, I’m fine that way! I want to tell the stories with people, I don’t want to tell stories against people! And I think you guys’ story is one very worth telling!”

Suddenly, he stopped in his tracks and you nearly ran into him from behind. One a few inches separated you from each other when he turned around to you and dropped his head to lock gazes with you. “I don’t think what happened yesterday with you breaking into my car was something a goody two-shoes would actually do, but a ruthless journalist.”

You let out a desperate cry. “I told you over and over again, I just wanted to watch the race, then changed my mind and wanted to go home when you guys appeared, and then I panicked! That wasn’t planned, and regarding how close I was to dying, I would choose to not do that again. Which is why I’m asking you formally for permission.”

The Falcon remained silent and inwardly, you raised your hopes up. If you could tell a great story in cooperation with him under an alias and his other friends, that would definitely secure your promotion. 

“No.”

Then, he continued his way.

“But why?” You quickly caught up to him again. “I wouldn’t tell you guys’ real names and only write what you want to have written.”

“I don’t have a story to tell except that we like racing.”

“But there must already be a story to that, right?” you tried again, keeping up with his steps this time. “Why did you start? How did you start? How did you learn all this, how do you feel when you’re in the car, how does this whole teamwork function, do your other friends and family know and what do they think about it… I have so many questions!”

“No word about my family,” he interrupted you, the candy now in his hand to speak more insistently, and it didn’t sound like a warning at this point, it sounded more like a threat. “Whatever you heard in the car, you better forget about it.”

A soft spot - you had already discovered that. It was none of your business if he didn’t want to let you in as a stranger, but you also couldn’t stop wondering. “I already got that memo yesterday. But-”

Again, he cut you off. “Great. And if I still catch you publishing an article on what happened yesterday or what you eavesdropped… well, I know where you work and live thanks to your negligence. Goodbye.”

He put the lollipop back into his mouth and disappeared in the crowd. You were tired of chasing after him again, and truth to be told, you could understand his point. Taking a deep breath in, you settled with the fact that you had to change your topic, the promotion gone from your sight again.

Of course you could have written the article without any additional info or the reveal that you were in the car yourself, but then it would only be that, an article. But you wanted a story.

_____

You were scrolling through the internet, looking for new jobs.

You figured that if you were to stick with your old position, you could as well try your luck somewhere else. Perhaps, there were open positions on the same level as your missed promotion for which you could prove that you were qualified or that didn’t require you to do illegal and unethical things.

There were only two days left until you had to hand in your proposal for the story that would cover the next issue, and you still hadn’t come up with something else. 

By now, you could also pack your things and leave the city since living in the countryside didn’t sound so bad after all. Sitting by the window all day, watching nature? A dream. But you had chosen to return and to stay in the capital on purpose, a quiet, secluded life didn’t suit your current ideals. You were a writer after all, always seeking for new stories to tell, and you believed Seoul told endless ones.

The ringing doorbell had you spin around on your chair. Your room was small, but it offered enough space for all necessities that only one person needed, which was why you rarely had visitors. And as far as you remembered, you hadn’t invited anyone over.

“Who is there?” you asked carefully as you approached the door.

“It’s me.”

You furrowed. “Who?”

“Me.” Pause. “Jaehyun.”

The Falcon. Lollipop-dude. What could he possibly want after your last argument?

You opened the door, and there he stood in front of you, hair slicked back and donned all in black leather - a stark contrast to a few days ago, safe from the lollipop spinning in his mouth. 

He peeked through the halfway opened door. “It’s tiny in here.”

You snapped, “Well, nobody asked you to come.”

“Can I come in anyway? We need to talk.”

“I didn’t write anything!”

He rolled his eyes as you opened the door. “I know, that’s not why I came here.”

You closed the entrance door behind you and watched him standing in your room, a bit too big for your furniture, and also a bit lost in this environment. You struggled biting down a snicker, because this picture was just so surreal.

“What is it?” he grumbled.

You folded your arms in front of your chest and shrugged. “Nothing. So tell me, what do you want from me that even made you come to my home?”

The Falcon turned around to your desk and stretched out his arm, taking something into his hand that must be your notebook he had returned to you. Holding it up, he showed it to you with his back still facing you and asked, “You still want to write this story of yours?”

Perplexed, you could only nod, but as you realized he couldn’t witness your confirmation, you quickly agreed vocally, “Yes! Yes, of course!” 

“Three rules,” he then started before slowly shifting back into your sight, the lollipop still in his mouth, and you noted that everything for him came with terms and conditions. How exhausting, three rules again. “You won’t use anyone’s real names. You will only write what I allow you to write. You won’t mention my family or my background. I am allowed to read the entire thing before you publish it.”

“Those are four rules tho,” you remarked, and his eyes narrowed. 

The lollipop stopped spinning in his mouth. “I’m outta here.”

“I agree, I agree!” you corrected yourself. “I agree with all the rules!”

“Fine.” He handed you over your notebook. “Now get dressed, we’re going racing. I hope you have black clothes and a leather jacket, because this…” He pointed at your light pink pajamas in which you had changed into as soon as you came home, “is not it.”

Your eyes widened. “Now?”

“Now,” he repeated.

You hesitated.

“Your last chance,” he pushed.

“I’ll get changed.”

____

“I thought I was going to be in the car.”

“Didn’t Jaehyun tell you?” Taeyong asked with a cocked brow.

“Tell me what?”

“That guy…” He touched his forehead and pointed at the seat next to him, urging you to sit down in front of the three monitors standing on the desk. “We need you to navigate.”

“Navigate what?”

“What did you two talk about on your ride here?”

You heaved up your shoulders and let them down again. “Actually nothing.”

The ride in the Falcon’s car to this suburb had been quiet with him focusing on driving and you concentrating on what you could make this story revolve around. No, you had barely talked and had each lived in their own mind.

“You’re going to navigate the race. Basically be his co-driver, but from here, not from inside the car like last time,” Taeyong explained thoughtfully with a smile. “Basically, you’ll do my job, I’ll only be your co-navigator and the team’s manager fully again.”

“Navigator? Eh? I thought I was only going to stay here, writing. Maybe even get the chance to be inside the car again, but since it’s against the official rules, I didn’t even think of that.”

“Wait, he really didn’t tell you anything?” You were both equally confused.

“So I’m not just… observing?”

“Absolutely not.” Taeyong determinedly shook his head. “To be part of the team means to contribute something, and for you to write this story about us, you will also have to do your part. Actually, no outsider is allowed to be with the team during the race, because the risk of cheating and manipulation is too high, so this was the only option. Jaehyun has already fallen out of grace, we cannot allow something negative to be associated with him again when his reputation is just getting repaired.”

You wanted to know why the Falcon had fallen out of grace in the first place, but you came to the conclusion that it was not your time to ask just yet. 

“And why me then? Aren’t you guys enough?” You tried to conceal your rising panic. “I can just sit here and write if I’m not allowed inside the car. Maybe do some cleaning of the vehicle before you start or do some promotion work. Something I can actually do. Nobody will notice I don’t have a fixed role in the team. Besides, I don’t even know how to navigate.”

Taeyong tilted his head, his smile growing wider. “But you’ve done an exceptionally good job last time. It doesn’t matter who navigates, the person just has to be good.”

You felt your cheeks getting warm by this compliment. “I barely did anything…”

“And yet, it was enough for him to win after such a long time and have people start betting on him again. He really needs the money, so you better help him win as many races as possible in return for getting a good story.”

Why did it sound like a threat despite his sweet smile? 

You sighed. “What do I have to do?”

“Take this.” 

Taeyong handed you a headset and instructed you to wear it which would connect your voice to the radio in Jaehyun’s car. Through the first monitor, you had the dashcam’s point of view, which gave you the feeling of being directly in the passenger’s seat, that was not bad. The second monitor showed the car’s location in the city with all streets and buildings through a GPS while the third showed another map but with different red dots spread across the screen.

“Those are police stations and control points.” Taeyong let the tip of his index finger glide over the screen. “... of the ones we know. Spotting cars following Jaehyun as well as unplanned control points popping up will be another challenge. And these devices are police scanners. As you can guess from the name alone…”

At first, you had been excited, but as you got everything explained and shown, it dawned on you how close the driver and the navigator actually had to work, and that the driver had to trust the navigator literally with his life. You didn’t feel very comfortable with that much responsibility weighing on your shoulders. What if something went wrong and he got caught by the police? Would you land in jail then too? 

“Today, it’s going to be a cannonball run with two others, meaning Jaehyun will start here, but finish at the other side of the city where most of the spectators are waiting. That’s why there is barely anyone here right now. Of course they want to see the winner. As opposed to last time’s run, this is about time rather than bringing as much distance between the cars as possible. And you know how much the sum is that you can win?” Taeyong’s sweet smile got replaced by a wicked grin. “40 million won.”

“I can’t do this, I’m sorry!”

You jumped out of your seat and ran towards the door, opening it up. The starting point was somewhere in the suburbs where you had never been before, but you didn’t care as you pulled out your phone once you inhaled fresh air that filled your heated lungs, ready to call a taxi.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

A huge figure blocked your way, and it only took you one look to first smell his lollipop, then recognize him. Damn, did he ever finish that sweet or did he have an entire stash in his pockets?

“I’m going home!”

“And why would you do that?”

“Because you lied to me! I can’t do this!”

Instead of talking you out of it, the Falcon raised his brows, then laughed, revealing his teeth between the red lollipop. “I knew it. Once a chickenshit, always a chickenshit.”

“A what?!” Your mouth stood agape, wondering whether you had heard right. “How can you say that?”

“I’m only speaking the truth. The first time, you also wanted to escape had it not been for us coming in your direction and forcing you to get into the car, right?”

You faltered. “Hm… okay, yes… but…”

He tilted his head and shrugged. “You dream about big stories, but this is what they will always stay for you: a dream. And you know why?” The Falcon leaned in, and you felt the sudden urge to withdraw, but you were completely petrified. “Because you don’t have the courage and the will to actually make your dreams come true. You're a big talker, a dreamer to put it nicely, but you’re not a doer, someone who gets shit done. I, in comparison, get shit done. And this is why I'm doing what I’m doing and you’re only watching from the sidelines, not being able to type down this story of yours like the goody two-shoes you are. Ever thought about the fact that you won’t get this promotion because you don’t deserve it?”

You weren’t aware that you had been holding your breath the entire time. Only when he approached you further and whispered in your ear, “Now go home, we don’t need someone like you here, we can do it without you”, you were able to exhale again, blood irregularly pumping through your veins while you clenched your fists.

With a fierce gaze thrown at him, you spun around on your heel, opened the door to the hall and yelled, “Taeyong, give me the headset and tell me what to do. For this round, I feel more comfortable with you next to me.” You threw one last look behind you at Jaehyun before you continued, “And next time, I’ll do it all myself.”

The door fell shut behind you, but you could have sworn that you saw the Falcon smiling. 

This time though, genuinely. And perhaps partly relieved.

____

You were still shaking when you found yourself sitting in the Falcon’s car again, heading home in the middle of the night after your first race as a co-navigator. The other team members had brought you to the finish line in their car with them to celebrate, but there was not much reason for you to do so as of now. The shock was still sitting deeply with you.

“Everything okay?” the Falcon asked, but it still sounded like coming from another planet as your ears were ringing. “What are you even upset about? We won.”

“What I’m upset about?” you called out. “There could have been so many instances that could have gone totally wrong!”

“But nothing went wrong. Why are you always such a scaredy cat?” You didn’t look at him but straight out of the window. His eye roll was very visible in front of you though. “Just calm down, it’s irritating me.”

“I know everything ended well, but just imagine if a police car had suddenly pulled up. Or if someone had crossed the streets. Inside the car, it was exciting, but as an official navigator, you have so much responsibility…”

“Just enjoy the victory and the amount of money we’re going to share with you. Isn’t that what you wanted?” He murmured something about goody two-shoes again, but by now you were good at ignoring that. “Geez, did you ever have one single day in your life that you could freely enjoy without having a stick so far up your ass? Your poor boyfriend.”

It was the most nonchalant way in which you had ever witnessed the Falcon talk, even though he had mostly said nonsense. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Yeah, I wonder why.”

You gasped. “Excu-”

The next moment, you tasted something sweet on your tongue. “Close your mouth and suck.”

Instinctively, you did as you had been told as you didn’t know how else to react. The Falcon kept driving the car through the city with his eyes fixated on the road in front of him as though he hadn’t just pulled the lollipop out of his mouth and nearly shoved it straight down your throat.

“Sugar helps me calm down and the motions I need to make distract me from unwanted thoughts,” he admitted, and his voice suddenly sounded so vulnerable that you didn’t dare to respond. “I think you need that now too.”

You slumped back into your seat, suddenly very quiet. You tried not to think much about the fact that his saliva was now in your mouth too, and that you didn’t feel repulsed at the thought at all. He had been right after all. Your hands were not shaking anymore.

“The fact that I participate in those races is because I need the money,” he continued and you somehow sensed that he was currently glad that you weren’t able to look him straight in the face in case you caught his true emotions mirrored there. “And I wanted you to be my navigator, because you had done a very good job the first time around. During the races, you appear to be panicked and disheveled, but you are actually calm and collected, always knowing what you’re doing and never doubting yourself. From the first moment on, I saw much potential in you, and I needed someone like that to strengthen my team.”

“... to win the races,” you finished what he probably thought to himself in silence.

“Exactly.”

“So to you, it’s all about winning?” Your mouth tasted sweet with each syllable, and only now you recognized which flavor that was: cherry. “You wanted me in your team, because you assumed I could contribute to your series of wins?”

“That’s my only life goal. Winning as many games as possible for the money.”

You didn’t know why his answer bothered you. Weren’t you also only on board because you needed to write about this experience to ensure you climb the ladder of success which would eventually also result in money and fame? You weren’t much different from each other. He probably was only a bit more reckless in money making than you.

“I understand,” you agreed when it eventually clicked. He was trying to fool you again, so you corrected yourself, “No, I don’t understand. The way you spoke to your sister… it’s not only about money for you.”

The Falcon scoffed. “Why do you feel the need to peg me as some kind of deep character? Because I don’t fit the narrative of your story?”

This stung. Most likely because he was right. People wanted to read about deep characters, if not about a hero, then about an antagonist who told them how he had become an antagonist. But nobody wanted to read about a greedy, selfish person.

“So the main character of my story is only after money,” you concluded dryly.

“Yes, this is something you can mention in your story. The person you write about is a selfish jerk who only thinks about money.” He let out a laugh, but it rather sounded rather bitter than genuine. “I know it’s not that very deep of a story, but never told you that what you would get was interesting.”

The lollipop clicked against your teeth as you replied, “No worries. I’m a professional.”

He wanted to make himself fit his very own narrative, and you needed him to fit your own narrative. Right now, there was no character to your story.

At home, despite the ungodly hour and your clash of interests, you typed down a summary of your story and handed it in the very next day, even before the deadline. This would be your story, one way or another. You were going to make the best out of it, with the Falcon’s cooperation or without.

____

“He is very popular,” you remarked.

“Oh, he sure is.” Taeyong thrusted a drink into your hand. “He just doesn’t like this attention at all.”

You watched the Falcon getting approached by both men and women who were desperate to talk to him while you watched with your new team from the sidelines. After another race together that the Falcon had won, Taeyong had invited you to something like an after party in some other team member’s big house. You had to work the next morning and didn’t want to stay long, but you supposed you had to do it for the experience and more substance for your article. The more you had to write about, the better.

“Can you imagine that only a few months ago, it was entirely different? Everybody hated him.”

“Hm?” You snapped your head to Taeyong. “Because of the accident he was involved in?”

The look in his eyes was impenetrable, but it softened when he watched his friend. “Yes, but the details to that… I’m sure he’ll tell you himself when he feels the time is right.”

Admittedly, you knew quite a bit already by just going around and talking to people, you were just keeping it a secret since you didn’t want to come off to the team as too nosy or pushy. But none of the spectators you had come to have a short conversation with knew exactly what kind of accident that had been. You had tried really hard to gather all the information, but they just differed too much from each other.

When one assumed the Falcon had hit someone with his car and drove away, the second guessed he had run into someone, but brought them to the hospital. And the third option, and that was the worst, those people believed he had killed someone in that accident. The newspapers that had reported on this case hadn’t mentioned anything more. Just the fact that the Falcon had caused an accident in a suburb that involved an innocent passerby. And that was still enough to fall out of grace in this community, that was how high their ethical standards were.

You wondered why, with such an incident happening that involved all kinds of trope that would make people drawn to it, there hadn’t been any follow-up reports by newspapers and magazines.

Taeyong had once let slip that Jaehyun had only been able to make a comeback after this incident because he had challenged the Cheetah. Apparently, nobody ever did that. And now you were even more curious about the Cheetah, the Falcon’s biggest opponent. 

From what you had heard, officially and unofficially, he won all the races and was nearly untouchable. He only challenged someone just to show off how remarkable he was, but nobody ever challenged him. That was an unspoken rule - except for when you wanted to set yourself up for humiliation. And the Falcon had done exactly that.

You looked at your team which was already top notch with a driver who was nearly impeccable. You couldn’t imagine a team that was better. Apart from the one you worked the closest with, Taeyong, there was Johnny, the mechanic, and the one which they call the investigator, though you just believed that he was a hacker in reality - Yuta. 

You had seen and worked with them before all the time, but getting to know them privately in peace made you realize one thing: These were all just normal guys who knew each other from university with a not so legal side hustle. They were splitting the winner’s entire sum equally among all of them, and even if they didn’t want that much as the Falcon was the one driving and inheriting the most dangerous part, the latter always insisted on it, claiming they weren’t a work environment, but friends. 

The fact that you were now a part of this close knit group, made you feel a bit awkward as you didn’t know them that well yet, but the other fact that they had welcomed you with open arms, safe from the Falcon so far though, and already saw you as one of them, warmed your heart. 

Even though the money had sounded very tempting as well and you surely always got your fair share of the work that paid more than a few bills, you were surprised how little it meant to you in the end. You couldn’t really pinpoint it. The races with the team… the preparation, the process, the talks in between, the shared laughter, the banter… you enjoyed this way much more than holding the money in your hands by the next day. It meant so less when everything else hoarded a much bigger feeling that was still so unfamiliar to you, but very overwhelming. 

“Ah, there he is,” Johnny whispered to you and pointed at a tall guy, surrounded by other young men and a woman. “The Cheetah and his team.”

“That’s the Cheetah?” you asked. “The one he’s challenged?”

“The best racer out there and someone Jaehyun could never beat, someone no one usually challenges and beats.” There it was. Now, you didn’t need to feign lack of knowledge anymore. “Hopefully, until now. It’s about a lot of money and the people are already anticipating it. It’s gonna be the race of the year. Maybe, Jaehyun will take his crown.”

You hadn’t known it was going to be this big and anticipated. Now, you also understood why people had welcomed the Falcon back despite whatever everyone imagined the accident to have involved. The best and most popular racer against the underdog who had fallen deep, wanting to rise again? That surely made a headline.

“The woman in that team, is she also a navigator?”

“Yes.” Taeyong nodded. “Women are mostly navigators, there rarely are female racers. As of today, I only know of two who are still active. But it’s really hard to recruit women for your team, no matter which position.”

“Because the job is illegal and hard?”

He nodded again. “Women usually don’t want to be involved in illegal activities.”

“... I can relate.”

All eyes now landed on you and you shrugged. “I just really need this promotion, you know that, guys. Just once in life, I want to be fortunate and successful.”

You were glad you could be totally open with them and not get judged, because you all were here for the same reason. This illegal sport benefitted all of you in some way.

“Just like I need money to finance my studies,” Taeyong said. 

And Yuta added, “I really want to found my own company in the future.”

“And one day, I really want to move back to the US,” Johnny finished.

You were only people with dreams and ambitions. If you did things like these with all the precautions and didn’t hurt anyone, no matter how selfish or selfless, then was it really wrong to chase after your longings? You still gave the Falcon the benefit of doubt over the incident. Your team was fair and good, you wanted to believe so hard in every single one of them.

Knowing his friends and what they did for each other, you now were a hundred percent sure that there was a deep reason the Falcon always put his life on line too, and that he wasn’t as reckless and as money-hungry as he had first made himself out to be. None of them were.

Taeyong studied to help out his family, because his father couldn’t work anymore. Yuta wanted to open up a company, because his family got robbed of theirs. Johnny wanted to go back to the US to take care of his mom.

“I first thought it all boiled down to money, that glued you together,” you thought out loud. “But I was so wrong.”

It was way more than about money. It was about friendship, family and dreams. Of some things, you had only ever heard of and never experienced yourself - and most likely never would. And as this thought settled, you realized that you were the one doing all this solely for fame. You were the selfish, money-fixated person in this group. You were the one wrong here.

“It all comes down to trust in the end,” Johnny complemented. “Without a tight-knit team that doesn’t trust each other, you cannot make it.”

“But why me?” You frowned. “I didn’t do anything to earn your trust. I’m just here, because you caught me.”

“Oh, but you did win our trust!” Taeyong then objected and Johnny and Yuta nodded along. “With the way you helped Jaehyun when you were stuck in his car, that was the first race he had won after a long while and which has restored his reputation. You didn’t help him because of the money, I heard the entire thing.”

They trusted you? Why was your chest grabbed by a feeling so overwhelming like it was going to explode at any moment? Perhaps, at this point, you could imagine being friends with them too eventually… if they wanted to still have someone as selfish as you around.

“I didn’t want to see him lose,” you reluctantly answered. “At that moment, I didn’t think about a story. I just cared for his sister… and for him.”

Because you never had had the experience of being in a real family, you wanted to protect everyone that still had one. You remembered the phone call the Falcon had made, that he had promised to always come back to her. Basically, you still knew nothing about him, but what you knew was that he was way more than he made himself out to be. 

You didn’t need to invent a story about him to fit your narrative. He had fitted it all along. You saw it clearly now.

“Okay, enough with the long faces, guys!”

Johnny threw his arms around all of you and huddled you all together.

“You’re suffocating me,” Yuta complained, though the playfulness clearly stood out in his voice.

“People are looking,” Taeyong worried, but you couldn’t help but to chuckle.

“So what?” Johnny let you all go again and shrugged. “How about a round of drinks for us? I think we all need it now.”

“I’ll get the drinks.”

You all shifted your head in unison and saw the Falcon having moved to your group, no sign of other people anymore, although you could have sworn he was swarmed by them only a few minutes ago.

“What about your fans?” you wanted to know from him and joked, “They all got an autograph already?”

His reply was dry with a gaze just as similar, “I told them to leave me alone.”

“Jeez, Jaehyun,” Taeyong complained, “with a behavior like this, no one is going to bet on you in the future.”

“They shouldn’t bet on who’s the nicest anyway.”

Yes, the Falcon wouldn’t be the winner of a be-nice-award. But when he volunteered to get the drinks and naturally included you, you figured that he didn’t need to voice his kindness. He rather showed it.

____

“Why will you drive me home? Didn’t you drink?”

“Because it’s late and dark, and I need to go home too. And of course I didn’t drink alcoholic beverages this entire time, are you nuts? Now, get in.”

You looked out of the passenger’s seat’s window when the car started rolling, lights flashing by in a blur as you drove through the streets at a normal speed, and yawned. “The party was just getting to be fun, you didn’t have to leave with me.”

“Just take this free ride, will you?”

“Okay.”

You listened to the Falcon’s lollipop clicking against his teeth when he moved it in his mouth and you yawned again. 

“I spotted the Cheetah earlier tonight,” you said. “What’s the deal with this big race that’s coming up?”

“So the guys told you, hm.” The movements of the lollipop stick stopped. “Our history runs deep. To sum it up quickly: I can win against anyone, but never against him. I need to break this curse.”

“I get it,” you declared and leaned back in your seat. “You never beat him, so the rage waves just get stacked on top of each other, and the more races you lose, the more you want to win. Just like we journalists fight to have our stories be headliners every month and there is always this one person who snatches them the majority of the time.”

The Falcon sighed. “A weird and out of place comparison, but I guess you’re not entirely wrong.”

You seamlessly continued, “When was your first race against him?”

“I guess when I turned 21. That’s when I started racing.”

“Wow, so many years and no win against him? It must be frustrating.”

“Yeah, just rub more salt into the wound,” he muttered, a bit offended, “but as I said, this is going to end in a few weeks. He won’t be Kind of the Streets anymore. It will be me who will take the crown.”

“King of the Streets?” You asked. “Is that the official title?”

“Just a label we throw around in the community every now and then, but nobody gets literally crowned, if you know what I mean. He’s just been inheriting this title forever, and I’m sick of it.”

“Did you only start because you wanted to win the title?”

“What? Of course not! I started because my fa-” He stopped. “Hey, I know what you’re doing!”

You giggled. “Don’t worry. I didn’t ask you as a journalist, I ask you as your teammate, your navigator. We have made rules and I will stick to them. Is it too much to ask for, getting to know you? We spend so much time with each other, we trust each other, don’t we?”

He became silent. You got him. “I guess so.”

This reply surprised you very much as you hadn’t expected it. But you regained your composure very quickly despite the feeling still lingering in your chest. “How many siblings do you have... Jaehyun?”

It was the first time that you vocally said and thought about his real name. You had been avoiding it, but you couldn’t keep calling him the Falcon. He was human too, although he would remain anonymous in your story.

Jeahyun paused, but eventually replied, “You already know of my younger sister. She’s the only one. I live with her and my mom.”

“How old is your sister?”

“She’s fourteen.”

“So, in middle school.”

“Exactly.”

Where was his father that he had nearly mentioned? You wanted to ask this and much more, but the way his voice had changed by the end, you knew that this was it for today. And it was okay. He should only share what he felt like sharing. Instead, you decided to tell him more about yourself.

“I live alone. My parents divorced when I was a little child, and since my mom moved abroad with a new man directly after, I stayed with my dad. But he was addicted to booze. I had to grow up fast, because whatever role a parent usually played, he wasn’t in the position to take over it. One day, when I was the same age as your sister, he didn’t come home.”

Jaehyun breathed in deeply, and you sensed that he was about to drop a comment, but held himself back from doing so at the last second. You were unsure whether this was a sign to continue or not, but you did anyway.

“He got caught in a hit and run accident. He was the driver. Despite me telling him every day to cut out on the booze or at least never get into the car with alcohol in his system, he always did. And on that fateful day, he took an entire family with him.”

Having this story sealed in your heart for such a long time, you didn’t expect the syllables to fall from your lips so smoothly as though you were retelling someone else’s past and not your personal one. After all these years, you felt nothing anymore.

“Your question from before we got into the car…” Jaehyun started, but refrained himself from ending the sentence.

“If you had drunk something, I wouldn’t have gotten in the car with you. And If you had drunk something during a race, I would have quit right away.” You smiled mildly. “I’m relieved your addiction is lollipops.”

“Why had you agreed on being my navigator?” was Jaehyun’s next question. “You should resent people like me.”

“I can’t resent the world just because I resent my father. I want you to always come home to your sister like you promised her.”

He fell into silence. Perhaps, you had crossed a line, perhaps not. But you wanted him to know that you cared. You collected stories every day from different people and they all affected you, every single fate, more or less. But for him, you didn't care like a journalist for a subject. You cared like a friend.

“I want that too,” Jaehyun eventually responded. “Always coming back home to her.”

You smiled. “Then let’s work together well.”

____

With every race, you got calmer and more professional, and even though you had lost two races so far - as constant wins were an exception anyway except for when you were called the Cheetah - Jaehyun won with you, his team, almost all races, and he rose to the top again, shining as the Falcon in all his glory.

You still weren’t able to shake off your nervousness and slight panic entirely, but you got better in managing those feelings and most importantly, you didn't let it seep through the headset for Jaehyun to feel.

Through the next races, your connection only got stronger as you figured out a way to work silently and peacefully with each other. You even bonded over unfunny jokes and small conversations you held in the car when he drove you home, which he always insisted on - most likely because you were a woman and it was usually the middle of the night.

Jaehyun’s car was his safe space, because he knew whatever you talked about, even though most of the time it wasn’t even something important, it would never leave his vehicle without his permission.

“I never drink alcohol,” he suddenly told you on one of these rides home when you both got out of the car as you had decided to make a short stopover. “I never know when my sister or mom will need me since my father is not here anymore.”

It was the first time in a long while you talked about something other than the races, teams, your job and other trivial things. You had rarely talked about his personal topics ever since that one time. You were happy to hear that you finally reached this point again, and the conversation was even opened up by him.

Jaehyun seated himself on the car’s hood and you carefully crawled up to him. He made space for you and reached out his hand when you teetered, securing you while you settled right next to him. After having taken your place, you followed his gaze and encountered a view that you hadn’t seen before.

He had wanted to drive out of the city after this race just to clear his head, and you had complied despite this late hour. Now, you were watching the sunrise from the top of a hill on an early summer morning, wondering how a moment like this, that you had never dreamed of before, was suddenly making you so happy.

“Where is your father?” you finally dared to ask, because the moment felt right.

“In prison for fraud,” Jaehyun deadpanned. “He committed a huge tax evasion crime with his own company, not only taking the business down, but all of our savings as well along with the family’s reputation.”

You were shocked. “I don’t know what to say… I’m so sorry, that’s horrible.”

“He consciously did that, knowing exactly the outcome of his actions, what it’d cause us, what it would make of us.” His blood was boiling, it was palpable. “And now, my mother is working two jobs just to make the ends meet and pay off the debt because of this selfish, money-hungry bastard.”

Jaehyun… was he racing to support his family too, just like his friends? Because a son who described his father as a selfish, money-hungry bastard couldn’t be one himself.

“I guess we both grew up with father figures we couldn’t really rely on.”

On top of the car were sitting two people with inner children that had been abandoned by their parents at some point. But you both had learned to make it through life without them. Screw them, you were going to make it better than your parents.

“I don’t want my sister to grow up thinking all men are like our father. I’m not the perfect example for an older brother, but I would do everything to give her the life she wants, such as illegal car racing just to open up the possibility to her of enrolling into her preferred university.”

So that was why and always, it was about winning races for him. Even though he had claimed otherwise in the beginning, he was not someone superficial who only cared about fame, you had always known. He cared about his family, and friends. And, as someone who hadn’t grown up with the first, it was pretty touching that a brother would do that for his sister. Nobody had ever done that for you and you didn’t have someone who would even consider doing this for you, too. 

“You sister must be really proud of you.” You smiled. “You’re a good person, Jaehyun.”

Suddenly, he turned cold. “Easy for you to say, knowing only this side of me.”

These words hurt you after spending quite a lot of time with each other. 

You had gotten to know his friends and now some of his backstory. You knew you were in no position to feel this way considering that he didn’t see you as his friend yet apparently. Still, it stung somehow.

“When I was your sister’s age, I would have loved to have an older brother by my side who cares so much about me. I was all alone, but your sister has you. Whether you see yourself as a good person or not, Jaehyun, it doesn’t matter to your sister at all. You’re good in her book, that’s enough.”

“I appreciate you saying that.” He was being sincere, judging by his voice. “My sister doesn’t endorse my… side hustle. But she accepts it without a complaint, because she knows that’s what gets us through. My mom on the other hand… You know how moms are. So we keep it a secret from .”

No, you actually didn’t. And Jaehyun only realized that when he saw how your face fell. “I shouldn’t h-”

Yet, you tried to overplay it with a shrug and a wave. “It’s okay. It slips off most people’s mind, because having a family is something we suggest everyone has. I don’t blame anyone for thinking the same about me.”

“It’s not okay, I’m sorry for speaking so nonchalantly,” Jaehyun replied determinedly, taking you aback. “I will pay more attention to what I’m saying from now on.”

Nobody had ever reacted that way to such a sand trap. You were really surprised how understanding he actually was.  “It’s not like I grew up not knowing what a family should be like,” you continued. “I saw it in the foster family that took me in until I left high school. I saw it in my friend’s family who I spent most days with. I saw it walking through the mall passing by parents with their happy children. I know exactly what it should be like having a family, I just never had one of my own.” You dropped your head, tilting the corners of your lips slightly upwards. “But one day, I dream of having one and do it all better.”

The silence that followed made you realize how bright outside it had already gotten, and also that you had just confessed your deepest wish to someone who didn’t even consider you his friend. It had something slightly embarrassing, but also comforting, because you knew he would understand you nonetheless.

But Jaehyun didn’t say anything back directly, and you felt a bit lost. It wasn’t like you didn’t feel validated or overlooked, the gaze in his eyes reflected nothing but understanding after all. Perhaps, he just wasn’t as good at expressing his thoughts as you. And that was fine as you were a writer after all. As long as you could comprehend what seemed to go on his head, you were fine with the way you communicated. It was this fine bond between the racer and the navigator.

“Get up, we’re getting breakfast,” Jaehyun eventually prompted. 

It sounded great after a good race so you didn’t complain. “Okay!”

Jaehyun was already back on the ground while you still struggled getting off the hood without slipping. That was until you felt two strong hands gripping onto your sides and heaving you up as though you were as light as a feather. You could have sworn when you got inside the car, his hand lingered on your waist a bit longer than it needed to. But it could all have been in your tired mind as well.

____

You hadn’t known breakfast would be taken in Jaehyun’s house.

“Please come in and eat, dear, we have enough!”

His mother was a cordial person whose smile brightened up the entire home upon entering. You instantly felt welcomed by her cheerful personality.

“It’s very nice to meet you,” you greeted her back and kind of awkwardly followed her into the kitchen where she had already set up the entire breakfast table for four people after Jaehyun had called her from the car to inform them they would have a guest over.

Different main and side dishes were presented, and you didn’t know where to look let alone what to eat first. You could tell Jaehyun’s mother had gone beyond and above to prepare this breakfast as he had given you a heads up that she usually left very early and came home late just to sleep the little time she had remaining. Yet, she never failed to eat breakfast with her children or at least make food for them every single day. That was motherly love.

You suddenly felt a wave of warmth spreading through your body. She wasn’t your own mother, but right now, you felt very much like part of a family you had never gotten to experience yourself. And Jaehyun had wanted to show you.

Tears welled up behind your eyes as you took a seat at the opposite of him, and you tried to hide your sentiment, yet still sneaked a look at him. His soft gaze, he hid behind his long fringe. His caring demeanor, he hid behind his rough words. His apparent worries, he hid behind a long scowl. But this was all a facade for what he truly was: a loving son and brother and so much more than a money-hungry, selfish racer. 

“Did you guys study hard for the exams the entire night?” Jaehyun’s mom asked and you tilted your head in confusion. 

“Yes, mom,” Jaehyun replied. “But she’s not a student anymore, I just picked her up on her way to work.”

She turned to you. “Really? What occupation do you inherit, dear?”

You looked into Jaehyun’s direction for approval, but he remained silent and nodded, so you told the truth, “I’m a journalist.”

“Really?” She clapped into her hands and laughed. “Jiyeong wants to become a journalist too!”

Before you could ask who Jiyeong was, a female voice already asked, “What’s with me?”

She didn’t look much like her brother. In fact, from the moment you saw her, you thought she was the spitting image of her mother, both very beautiful. 

“Jaehyun’s friend here is a journalist, Jiyeong. Isn’t that amazing?”

“Really?” Jiyeong’s eyes started to sparkle and she approached you, seating herself right next to you. “I’m editor-in-chief at our school’s newspaper! Where do you work? I read almost all newspapers and magazines on a daily basis.”

While you were explaining to Jiyoung what articles were written by you of which she indeed remembered one or two, their mother placed rice in each of your bowls along with Jaehyun’s help.

You now knew why he had wanted specifically you and came back to recruit you not only once, but twice. The first time, he had most likely not thought about involving you yet. With his sister being into journalism, he knew how important your notebook was to you and genuinely only wanted to return it. The second time, he actually came around and wondered why not combine your talent for navigation with your occupation and get at least something out of your deal, not only for you, but for him - and his little sister - too.

“My dream is to attend Ehwa Woman’s university,” Jiyoung told you when you all started eating. “Where did you study?”

You smiled. It had been your dream to go to Ehwa too. But you didn't have money or relatives who could have supported you, so you attended a university far away from Seoul that was cheap in comparison. “I went to Chonnam University in Gwangju.”

“And you came back here and made it so far! I really look up to you!”

You flushed as you had always felt inferior to your colleagues who had attended the big and popular universities in Seoul, but Jaehyun’s sister not judging you by that but complimenting your actual skills touched you very much.

“Now, let her eat, Jiyeong! She hasn’t even come to touch her food yet! Please dig in, dear before it gets cold!”

It was your first breakfast together with loving people in many, many years.

When you stood outside with Jaehyun, waiting for his sister to get her backpack for school so that he could drive her there, you told him, “Thank you for introducing me to your mom and sister. I know why you did that.”

Because he wanted to show you what it felt like to have an actual, loving family. Because he wanted to show you that your work was never for vain. He had eventually become your friend, and you his. Yes, friend. But you didn’t speak it out.

“When I found out that you were a journalist, I immediately thought great, I need to introduce you to my sister!... But journalists also destroyed my life by writing articles not only about my dad’s crimes, but also about me,” Jaehyun explained, and you nodded, knowing it was about the mystery incident he had yet to tell you. “My sister never lost focus of her dream though. She told me she wanted to be one of the good ones, no defamation, always after the truth. So when you told me you were one of these people too, I thought that maybe, I can trust you after all, even with my life.”

“And you can!” You touched his arm in a gesture of comfort, and although his eyes widened, he didn’t pull away. “I stand by what we’ve promised to each other. I won’t publish anything without your consent. And if there is anything in the past that I have to clear up for you and your family, I will do so too.”

“Mhmm.” You saw him struggling through his mien, but he didn’t respond, apparently still needing to make his mind up. If so, you let him. 

“So, what do you study? You never told me.”

“Nothing.” He heaved his shoulders and slowly dropped them again.

You frowned. “But didn’t you-”

“I dropped out last semester right after the incident.”

“But your mo-”

“- doesn’t know. Neither does my sister.”

You didn’t want to judge, that was not your job, as a journalist and as a friend. So you asked, “Why?” although you could most likely already make out the answer.

“We can’t afford it as of right now, so I’m postponing my graduation. I definitely want to return, but as always, it boils down to money,” Jaehyun clarified. “I want to do it better than my father. I want to found my own company too and provide to my family the life they deserve. Even if the path to this aim might not be all legal, I promised to myself to leave this part of me behind once I’m there.”

“...And I will do everything in my might to win every race for as long as we’re working together, Jaehyun.”

“For my sister? Or for your story?”

“Not only for me, but also for your sister,” you repeated, “for your mom and for y-”

You swallowed the last part, but the way his features softened suddenly, he might have understood nonetheless, and it made your heart flutter. Perhaps, in his eyes, you were now friends as well.

____

“There is nothing personal in this story.”

You felt defeated. You had hoped, with handing in your first draft, your editor-in-chief would be totally invested in the story as well, encouraging you to continue and maybe even compliment you on the premise. Instead, while reading through all the pages with you sitting anxiously in front of him, his facial expression had fallen more and more.

“What do you mean?”

“The beginning is very intriguing with you sitting in the car, racing with him. It’s perfect, the reader gets thrown right into the story. But after that?” He shrugged and threw the papers back on his desk. “Nothing. No feelings, no emotions, just scenery description and a lot of theoretical stuff. Nobody cares about how the navigation system works or how the cars are tuned.”

“Oh, I thought it might be interesting to read how the team stays connected and what makes the cars so special.”

“Nobody cares,” he retorted dryly. “That’s not the stories people like to read. They can google all that stuff.”

Although it hurt your feelings, you had to silently admit that he was right. You hadn't given much away in the article about how Yuta worked behind the scenes or what the navigation system was really capable of according to Taeyong, but had to google a lot of things yourself too. You had wanted to give as little personal details away as possible, but apparently, it was too less. Your article was just boring.

“There is no common thread,” he criticized sharply. “Do you want to write about yourself being involved, about the sports in common or about the Falcon? Because right now, it’s all of this and nothing at the same time. If you’re that involved, write about what you do, how you learned it, about your feelings during the races. If you write about the sports, interview other teams, the spectators, dive into the history. If you center the plot around the Falcon, what’s his background, what does he race for, what’s his aim?”

You exactly sensed which direction he wanted to push you. “I’ll write abo-”

“I think,” he cut you off, “if you want to make it a headliner, you have to focus on the Falcon.” There it was. “Why did the Falcon really pause for so long? Is it true that he had caused an accident during a race? What really happened back then? How did he regain his fame? What made people change their minds? And most importantly, is he going to win and what will he do with the prize money? These are the questions that intrigues the reader. They want emotions, passion, they need to feel something while reason. Right now, everything I’m feeling is my hunger since it’s almost lunchtime.”

You purposely overheard his subtle taunt. “Those are very personal questions that he doesn’t want to talk about.”

“Well, then make him.”

You kept it to yourself that you already knew most answers. “As journalists, we also have to respect the people’s privacy and opinions.”

“Then make the entire story anonymous with all the personal information gathered,” he proposed. “It’s not less personal, but no names are given away.”

“I already plan on doing that.”

“So what’s the problem?” 

”People will still know, that’s how known he is. I cannot reveal things he doesn’t want me to reveal.”

Either way, anonymous, with his alias or even real name written in the article - it would hurt him all the same. It was his personal story, his family, his friends. It made him beautifully human, but also painfully fragile. It was his story to tell when the time was right, when he decided to do so, not you.

“Very well.” Your boss got up from his seat and took his jacket. “You can publish it like this if you want. I guess for a nice closing story at the end of the magazine, it's enough.”

For the first time in your life, you were having a clash of interest. There it was in front of you, your dream job position, so close if you were only selfish enough. And behind you stood the man whose trust you had just gained, begging you to respect his past wounds. What would you do?

____

It wasn’t easy, balancing racing by night and working by day. Oftentimes, you didn’t get more than four hours of sleep, spending time at home after work just to shower, change and then leave for a race again. You didn’t complain. You never did, because you enjoyed it very much. The newly formed friendship between you and Jaehyun’s team was something that brightened up your day as you had never experienced this kind of bond before. But you also didn’t leave your aim out of sight.

With Jaehyun’s rising popularity though also came people who voiced out their doubts about him even louder. You had just finished this night’s race and were waiting for Jaehyun to take you home, already looking forward to a bit of alone time with him, when you overheard a group of young men passing by.

“I don’t care what others think or whether he’s popular,” one of them said. “As long as he’s staying silent, he’s guilty in my book.”

“In mine too,” the second chimed in. “Why has he never said anything on that topic? And now, only because he’s winning so often and challenged the Cheetah, everybody seems to have forgotten about it? Bullshit.”

Your fingers clenched by the time the third one commented, “Don’t worry guys, he’ll fall out of grace as far as he has fallen. It’s always like this.”

“Hey!” Now, you couldn’t listen to this conversation any longer and stepped out of your dark corner. “Do you feel proud, talking like this about a person you don’t know?”

They stopped in their tracks and turned around to you. “And who are you?”

“Oh, I think she’s their navigator!”

One of them stepped in front of you and grinned. “Then, you must know the truth if you’re in the team and fight for him so desperately, right?”

The other two followed suit and laughed in unison. “Or are you in love with him and would defend him even though he’s guilty?”

You realized that you actually didn’t care about the truth anymore. You didn’t care when or whether Jaehyun would tell you one day at all. But that didn’t withhold you from defending him like your life depended on it. Someone who loved his family and friends so dearly, who always paid much attention to the street and passerbyers, who had to talk you into taking a detour just because there was a crowd of people he had to race by… you would always defend your racer.

“The truth is none of your business,” you said confidently. “Do I ask about what mistakes you’ve made? A person I do not know personally? What has this got anything to do with his performance anyway? Either you bet on him or you don’t, but nobody forces you. He doesn’t need your dumbass opinions to win, he doesn’t even know who you are.”

“Hey…”

You couldn’t tell who had spoken up, but you didn’t care much as you just hit your stride. “How about you get in the car and try to do the things these racers do? I bet you wouldn’t even last a few minutes on these streets. It must be so peaceful, watching from the sidelines with your big mouths as long as you’re not the ones in action, am I right?”

“Hey!”

Little did you know that the voice had come from behind you. Only when you felt an arm around your shoulder, pulling you close to a chest whose scent smelled very familiar, it dawned on you that no one in the group had tried to speak up, but it had been Jaehyun who was standing behind you, most likely all this time already.

But he wasn’t mad, even though your cheeks were burning. “Listen to my girl. If you dare to raise your voice against her again, you’ll be the ones the newspapers will be writing about the next day. Understood? Now, good riddance.” One opened their mouth to retort, but Jaehyun didn’t let him. “I SAID GOOD RIDDANCE!”

They were out of your sight quicker than you could process, and Jaehyun let go of your shoulder the same moment. 

“Come,” he urged you, and you silently followed him to the car. “I have to show you something.”

After you were driving for a little while all in awkward silence, you finally dared to ask, “Where are we going?”

“I’ll show you the truth.”

From the way his lollipop clicked against his teeth, you could only sense Jaehyun’s anxiety, and you wondered what got him so worked up even though he had won the race. You could only think of one reason. Perhaps, today was the day.

“Does it have something to do with what happened back then?”

“Yes.”

“Did I say something wrong earlier?”

Immediately, the clicking noises stopped, but he gripped the steering wheel even tighter. “You’ve gotten everything wrong.”

Your stomach dropped and you suddenly felt so nauseous. “Jaehyun… what was wrong about it?”

He was visibly upset now. “How can you say all these things about me?”

“These.. things? What did I say that was wrong? I don’t understand. I meant every word and I don’t care whether you heard them or not, because they are the truth.”

“You don’t know the truth.” He added, “Yet.”

“Even if… There was nothing wrong with what I said. You don’t need them to win, you don’t need spectators and betters. You only need yourself and your team. Everything else doesn’t matter.”

He didn’t reply, but kept his eyes fixated on the street in front of him. Not much talking, but many kilometers later, you suddenly came to a halt in a narrow street under a light post in a quiet neighborhood in the suburbs. To your left and right were single family houses and nobody was in your field of vision at this ungodly hour.

“Is this…?”

He took the lollipop out of his mouth and inhaled deeply. “This is where it happened.”

“Oh. Jaehyun…” You had been prepared to be taken here, but now that you were actually at the location, you didn’t know what to say.

“This is the spot where I collided with a pedestrian.” Even though he didn’t stutter or pause, you still realized how much mental strength it had taken him to not only bring you here, but to also speak about the incident - probably for the first time ever since it had happened. “He didn’t die on the spot. He survived, actually. That much, I know after I asked around in the hospital. I don’t know who he was, where he was going, whether he had family or other people who cared. I just called for an ambulance, drove my car away and remained hidden until they arrived. Then, I fled. This is the truth.”

You couldn’t deny that you were relieved he didn’t do a hit and run. You were also relieved that nobody had died and that the truth behind the accident was something that wouldn’t shake your friendship to the core. Of course it was bad, and he knew it himself. He’d always known and deeply regretted it, every single day. You saw it clearly now.

“I believe you.”

In moments of panic, humans were indeed most likely to do things they were not proud of, things totally wrong they wished to change later if only they could travel back in time. Things, they would have handled differently if they hadn’t panicked or were too scared. Jaehyun wasn’t an exception, although the baggage he had to carry was heavier than most else’s.

Humans were not perfect. For him, it all started with his not so perfect father and the not so perfect life he was living, leading him to do not so perfect things to save what was still salvageable. 

“For one hot minute,” Jaehyun continued, “I really thought about leaving him there and fleeing as fast as possible. I couldn’t go to jail like my father and leave my mom and sister all to themselves, dropping them entirely too. I couldn’t get caught, so I did my best to prevent this.” He laughed, bitterly. “After all, I am what people think of me. So your words mean nothing.”

“My words mean nothing?” It hurt. “It’s easy to tell someone how to behave when the incident has already taken place. But at the end of the day, we can never be sure how we, ourselves, would have reacted or what we would have thought at that moment. You thought about your mom and sister, but you thought about the accident victim too. You wanted to do the best for both. So you reacted accordingly to what was best in your mind.”

“Still, I’m not the person you painted me to be. I nearly killed someone in a race. And you know why? Because I thought taking a shortcut through a neighborhood would make me win the race back then. It’s not forbidden, but this is the reason we racers usually never do that.”

That was why he had been so reluctant to go through your neighborhood at your very first accidental race together. And he still wouldn’t, no matter how much he trusted you. What had happened back then was still sitting deep within him - justifiably.

“I am running illegal races with you,” you started. “I have always known that you wouldn’t work with the law. And I am neither! So what does that make us?”

He sank his head and placed his hands on his lap. “You speak so highly of me, but in reality, I am a very bad person.”

“You’ve introduced me to your sister and mother, Jaehyun. If this is where a bad person grows up, then the entire world is rotten and beyond the point of saving. But people like you give me hope.”

“Why would a person like me give you hope?”

“Because, despite your situation, you still have so much love inside of you that expresses itself in so many forms. That’s why you’re loved too, by many people.”

Silence engulfed you, and you thought that Jaehyun would drive away after sometime again, but he didn’t, so you accompanied him in this quietness as long as it helped him process the past.

“You know why I wanted to take this shortcut?” he eventually spoke up quietly, and you shook your head. “Because I wanted to end the race abruptly and rush home… That night, my sister got very sick and my mom wasn’t home. I already announced that I would drop out before it happened.”

That was something the newspapers and no one else had ever mentioned. Of course, people always focus on sensational facts. It was easier to tell a story and transfer emotions when the main feeling an article would lure out was hate against someone. 

It still had been a crime, this was a fact. And he could still go to jail for that. But you believed that the man who cared about his family so much and who was able to care about strangers too, was still very much haunted by his past, far more than he wanted to let slip through his facade. 

If he hadn’t had a family to take care of, things would be entirely different. But he trusted you enough now to tell you all this and not fear that you would go behind his back.

My girl… you remembered. Had he truly meant it? Had you proven to him your undeniable loyalty just earlier?

“Jaehyun…”

Slowly, your hand wandered to his lap on top of his. Against your expectations, he grabbed yours and squeezed it tightly.

____

When Jaehyun wanted to drop you off at your building much later, the tension between you was still palpable, and you didn’t know how to make it vanish. 

Perhaps, only time was needed - for him to believe that nothing had changed between you, and for you to settle with the fact that the guy who caused your heart to jump, just only a little bit, had done something grave in the past that you had to work through as well. After all, it still had been a crime.

“Jaehyun…” You wanted to end the night on a positive note, but he didn’t let you finish the sentence.

“Our ways will part here and now.”

You thought you had misheard. “Pardon?”

“I can’t demand a goody two-shoes like you to help a criminal like me,” he said coldly and stiffened in his seat. “And I surely won’t help a goody two-shoes like you write about my criminal record anymore now that the truth was inevitable to come forward with. So it ends here. Now.”

You knew where this rooted from: doubt and guilt. But during your entire career path, you had dealt with a lot of people who suddenly changed their minds on a topic or got cold feet.

“That won’t happen, Jaehyun,” you claimed. “You don’t have another navigator as good as me, no one and nothing can come close to the connection that you and I have.”

“It’ll be fine,” he obliged. “Now, go.”

“No,” you refused. “I will stay.”

“I SAID GO!”

“AND I SAID I WILL STAY!”

“Gosh!” he yelled. “Why can’t you be obedient for once towards me and leave before I hurt you too?!”

You both froze when it dawned on you what he had just said. You almost didn’t dare, yet you had to make sure that what he had said was indeed real.

“You’re afraid to hurt me?”

“I deceive my mom when it comes down to my activities and my studies. If she ever finds out, she’ll be hurt. I hurt my sister by not always being there for her whenever she needs me. I hurt my team for expecting them to be there for me although they have their own struggles. And I hurt you, because I cannot be the person you expect me to be. I only hurt the people I love.”

You took a deep breather and waited a few heartbeats in case Jaehyun wanted to chase you away again. But he didn’t. He just sat there in the driver’s seat, shoulders slumped, bangs messily falling into his eyes and the lollipop stick not moving a bit. 

“You want to protect your overworked mom from more worries, you want to provide a good future for your sister, and you split the win evenly among the team for them to help their families too. If I don’t expect a friend to be exactly like this, then what else?” you confessed.

But Jaehyun didn’t like this answer, it was written all over his face. You were scared that you had said something wrong.

“Friends?” he suddenly croaked.

“Yeah, friends,” you repeated slowly. “Aren’t we… friends?”

You had seen him as your friend all along, though one who made your cheeks warm when he called you “my girl” and your heart swell when he touched you. But now, it hurt you that he had never felt even the slightest of the same connection. Fair enough, everyone needed their own space, and with Jaehyun’s past, it was his own right to decide whether to ever make friends again.

You had just hoped…

Cherry.

That was the taste of Jaehyun’s lollipop, he never chose another flavor.

Though, it tasted different from his own lips than from the candy directly.

You were asking yourself how this sweet taste could calm him down when all it did to you at this moment was making your heart race and nearly jump out of your chest. Perhaps, because this time, you tasted the lollipop’s sweetness on his tongue rather than in your own mouth, and he made sure that you experienced every taste bud this flavor had to offer. 

Lollipops were very sweet already, and although Jaehyun was a fast and restless street racer, his kisses were much sweeter than candy. Admittedly, you hadn’t expected him to possess this side, but now that you thought about it, the signs had already been there whenever you observed him eating the candy.

Jaehyun’s fingers curled on your back when you motioned forward, away from your seat and more into his welcoming hug. The dashboard between you hindered you from embracing fully, causing you both to giggle at some point, but you continued kissing with your arms slung around his neck, for very long even after the cherry taste had vanished.

You weren’t hurt anymore over the fact that Jaehyun didn’t see you as his friend. You had never been friends. You had always been more than that.

____

Jaehyun’s victim had been a 45-year-old party chairman - that much you had found out through your connection to different journalists and a few demanding calls. The fact that after the incident, only silence followed and no details were revealed, not even about the gender and the age of the victim, had gotten your alarm bells ringing. And now you knew why. 

A famous politician involved in a street racing accident, but no one had mentioned his name? Something was not right with this story, you didn’t need to be a professional to recognize this.

“I need his record,” you then said at the hospital’s reception. 

Your editor-in-chief had given you this employee’s contact, assuring you she was more lenient in data protection when she saw the right amount of money. And your boss had been very happy to pay her the requested amount the moment you told him what you were after.

“This is exactly the kind of story I was looking for,” he had complimented you. “Good job. Now, go after it.”

You had left the building right away, making your way to the hospital the chairman had been admitted to after the accident.

“Here is a copy of his record,” the woman at the reception whispered to you. “All is well, he got out after two weeks. There is one interesting thing though… but look for yourself.”

“Thank you.”

You took the papers, and too excited to drive all the way back to the office, you looked through them right then and there after having found a quiet spot in the waiting room.

There was nothing abnormal at first for a car accident. It had left him with deep grazes, a dislocated arm, two broken ribs and a concussion. It sounded quite bad, but very mild for the fact that a car had hit him, and not at all life-threatening. So the accident had not been that severe as Jaehyun had made out to be in his panic.

Perhaps, that was the reason the party chairman had never been named in the news. But on the other hand… newspapers got to write articles about important politicians all the time, and just this once, his name had been left out? This didn’t sound like something a newspaper would do under these circumstances. 

The more important the name, the more clicks and sales the news generated. They must have been bribed to keep his name entirely out of all news revolving around this incident. You were wondering yourself why. Given all facts, no matter how macabre it sounded, this kind of accident would even play into the party’s hands. 

A very important politician who got hit by a street racer and admitted to the hospital with fractures? It would even be a headliner with the conclusion to go harder after such illegal activities.

Everything just doesn’t sound right. Something was being kept buried that no one should know about and could possibly threaten the party’s reputation. That much, you were already sure of.

… but what could it be?

You gasped when your eyes passed the passage that gave you a single answer to all your questions.

Patient was heavily intoxicated.

Whether it were drugs or alcohol, you didn’t know. But you were going to find out soon as you returned back to the office and made a call to the police.

____

“How high is the possibility that this program is actually a virus?” you asked and looked over Yuta’s shoulder who was currently typing something into his laptop. 

“Very low, but it’s still new, so we never know what will happen anyway,” Taeyong answered on his friend’s behalf and stretched out on Yuta’s bed in whose home you had  all gathered today. “Can’t you detect it if it’s one?”

“What do you think I’m currently trying to do here?” Yuta rolled his eyes. “I’m a programming student, not a wizard.”

“Okay, sorry? Jeez.”

“Doyoung said that with this program, you will also get the coordinates of all cars in your ten kilometer radius that use a GPS, so you can plan the route and the car’s speed even more predictively,” Yuta explained instead. “I’m still trying to figure out how.”

“The race is in two weeks. You should hurry.”

“I know, Taeyong. You think these last weeks I’ve only been sitting around?” Yuta gave his friend a scowl. “If it’s a new program, even used before its beta phase, it’s not so easy.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Okay, enough guys!” you interrupted their bickering. “Taeyong let Yuta work and peace and rather go through the city's plan for next week with me to mark all new construction sites, okay?”

In unison, they both said, “Fine.”

Taeyong turned to you while you started your own laptop to leave Yuta alone, and Jaehyun and Johnny were currently outside to maintain his car. You felt so included like never before in your life.

You’ve always said you didn’t grow up with a family. But sometimes, a family wasn’t something that you necessarily grew up with. Family also didn’t need to be bonded by blood. Sometimes, you lost family along the way, sometimes you gained one. And everyone would always welcome you into their family.

In your case, you gained a family in the form of a strong friendship that you had never experienced before in your life. Sitting here, analyzing maps with Taeyong while Yuta was silently typing away and Johnny and Jaehyun would soon come upstairs to talk about the next race after which you would all order food and then watch a movie together…

This was your own definition of family. This feeling of being cared for, trusted and loved without expecting anything in return, so much that it almost felt like your heart was going to burst. Your team was your family.

“I want to show you a place,” Jaehyun said when you were sitting in his car when all the work was done later that evening.

“Don’t you need to go home as usual?”

“My sister is having a sleepover at a friend’s house.” He smiled. “So I think my mom will enjoy a little more alone time to rest better.”

“Okay, then let’s go!”

Jaehyun stopped the car only much later after you had driven up a mound with a path so narrow, you feared the vehicle wouldn’t make it despite all its tuning. But against your expectations, you arrived at the top in that very same car, and the view over the entire city was splendid.

“I didn’t know such a place existed!” you called out and ran around the viewing place. “Jaehyun, I can see the entire city, and we’re not even on a mountain!”

“Do you like it?” he asked, following suit.

“I love it!”

“And I-”

“Hm?” You turned around to him with the biggest smile on your face. “What is it?”

He shook his head with a soft look on his face. “Nothing.” Then, he stepped close to you and hugged you from behind. “I’m happy you love it. It’s my favorite place. After the incident with my father happened, my sister and I came here a lot, because it made us forget reality for quite a while.”

“Thank you for sharing this special place with me.” You felt him kissing the nape of your neck and you shuddered pleasantly. “It really means a lot.”

The true meaning of it was revealed to you by him right after, “I spent most of the time here before my comeback. I wanted to give up on racing entirely. One night, I didn’t come home and my sister went to look for me which took her all night. I lost track of time, and I probably felt so ashamed returning to my family. When My sister found me here at the early hours of dawn, looking like a ghost and having cried all the way to this place, I knew that I had to do everything to protect my family. That’s when I dropped out of university and decided to race again. One day, I don’t want to do this anymore. One day, I’ll be free.”

You loosened yourself from his hug, shifted around and embraced him now from the front, body to body. “You’ll be one day, Jaehyun.” He gently brushed his fingers through your hair. “One day, you can provide your family the life they deserve and can finally live the one you have dreamed about as well.”

“But do I deserve it after everything that I’ve done?” He sounded full of doubts. “I’m not sure.”

You responded, quite confidently, “You do.”

“Actually,” Jaehyun changed the topic, “This car was my dad’s. He owned two, a big, elegant one to show off at work, and this one for his free time. It’s the only thing that was left, because it was registered to my mom’s name before I changed it to mine.”

You were curious about one topic. “Why did you never sell it? You only started racing after his arrest, right? Why have you never exchanged it for money?”

“I thought about it, a lot, in fact,” he clarified. “Maintaining a car is a very expensive hobby, after all. Apart from the fact that races became my source of income as it makes money fast and much, I think a part of me can’t also fully let go of my father.” He chuckled, but rather bitter and full of regret. “Isn’t it ironic? I think of it like my father repaying the debts he caused. It's satisfying.”

A wicked thought, but you liked the way he thought about it.

“Hey,” you then said, grinning, “do you want to get back at him once more?”

____

“Close your mouth and suck.”

This time, Jaehyun didn’t mean the lollipop he had put into your mouth, but something entirely else. 

Luckily, the front seats of his car were able to be raised back all the way, so he was now lying almost flat on his back, his hands gently but determinedly having guided your head to his loin while you were sitting between his angled legs. You did as you had been told and sucked him off like a lollipop. 

Your arms were propped up against the edges of the seat with your head bobbing up and down in a regular rhythm, but your tongue did the most work whenever you paused your neck movements just to indulge him with your proficiency.

“Jesus Christ,” Jaehyun cursed and put his forearm over his face so that his facial expressions would be hidden from you. It was like he didn’t want you to know how much control you had over him, but this was for no avail anyway as his swearing gave it all away, “No fucking way…”

It was certainly not your first time sucking him off, so it wasn’t like you didn’t know what he looked like enjoying this kind of pleasure. You found it rather cute how he still thought he could hide this side of him from you. 

Your tongue rolled over the tip of his dick, leaving a trace of saliva where it passed. Making sure you covered every angle with your motions, you halted them when you opened your mouth entirely and slowly took in the majority of his length until you felt like you couldn’t do more.

Jaehyun let out a groan that made you smile inwardly, and it only got louder when you let him pass by your lips, but didn’t let him slip out entirely. Instead, you sucked on the tip like the cherry lollipop he often offered you. 

You made sure to alternate between sucking and taking him into your mouth almost entirely, and when your left hand wandered to his warm thigh, you felt how tense he had become due to the arousal you made him feel. Instead of letting your hand go back though, Jaehyun stretched out his own to grab your fingers and intertwined them.

His nails dug into your skin and his thighs became very tense, closing around the sides of your face when his release was near. He came in a long spur directly into your mouth, and you swallowed it all down, including cleaning him up - with your tongue of course.

Jaehyun reached out to your face while you were licking over your lips, and you smiled at each other before his own gradually grew more wicked.

“You know what?”

“What?” You wiped with the back of your hand over your lips.

“I also never had sex in this car. Wanna change that?”

He didn’t need to ask twice.

Although it was still very narrow in the vehicle, Jaehyun had swiftly managed to change your positions so that you were now lying underneath him and he was kneeling in front of you in a crouched position. You giggled amusedly when you watched him taking off his shirt as he tried to do so without bumping into anything, but this had been an impossible task from the very beginning. Luckily, you had undressed yourself before already, so that he didn’t need to take care of that part too.

You assumed Jaehyun still needed a bit of time until he could go in fully again, but what would come before that, you had never expected. Your fingers were desperately gripping onto the door handle while your other hand was holding onto the seat belt that slowly dug into your flesh. But this slight pain passed by you almost unnoticeably when another feeling had taken control over your entire body and mind already.

You had already experienced how skillful Jaehyun was with his tongue whenever you kissed, which was long before indicated by the way he played with lollipops in his mouth. Of course he would put this skill into use elsewhere too. 

But that he would be this good… You shuddered again when you came the second time in the span of a few minutes after Jaehyun had draped his hot, wet tongue all along your folds, causing your back to lift off from the seat and moaning his name over and over again.

And even then, he didn’t stop. He came to face you after cleaning off his mouth, and kissed you for a long time until you had entirely calmed down before he crawled back to his original position and squeezed his fingers into your bum again to bring it closer to his face. 

With the tip of his tongue, he searched for the sensitive bundle of nerves, and you indicated that he had found it when you let out a light squeal. His lips enclosed the bud and you felt all your blood vanishing from your face when he started sucking on it. Oh god, you thought to yourself, you were surely going to pass out.

But he didn’t let you cum this time. Before you released, Jaehyun stopped and flipped you onto your stomach as swiftly as the narrow space allowed him to. Instinctively, you had already brought your bum up to give him better access, and you bit down into the flesh of your arm on which you had your chin rested when you felt him sliding into you from behind in one long motion.

The sound of his groin slapping against your cheeks mixed with your moans filled the car, and luckily, you had been the only ones on this view point at such a later hour. You had only had sex with Jaehyun once in your home, and you had never defined what that was between you. Maybe, you were too dense to speak it out and too naive to actually believe it, but you loved him.

Ironically, you only realized that when you decided to change positions and Jaehyun was constantly bumping his head on the ceiling and you got on top. You were settled on his hips, his length buried deep inside you, but you didn’t move yet.

You let your fingertips wander over his chest, taking your time, and he suddenly grabbed them, led them to his mouth and kissed the tips. When you gazes locked, you were sure. 

Yes, you loved him. With all his flaws, his burdens and his past. Perhaps, you had never experienced this kind of love, which was why you had always been reluctant and unsure, but if this wasn’t love, you didn’t know what was. You just hoped that at one point, he would come to feel this way about you too.

“What is it?” he asked with worry when you made no intention of continuing. “Is something wrong? You want to stop?”

But you shook your head. “It’s just… I don’t want this moment to pass.”

Even in the semi-darkness, you encountered Jaehyun’s smile. “I feel the same way.”

Slowly, you raised your hips and slowly came back down to his groin. Jaehyun tried very hard to remain in eye contact with you, but when you did that several times more, he lost his composure again. You propped your hands up against his hard chest and picked up your pace, slamming onto him over and over again in a fast pace.

When you ran out of breath, you alternated the fast motions with sitting on his lap and just letting your hips rotate in different directions and forms, which very much pleased Jaehyun as well by the way he didn’t stop moaning at this part as well.

With time though, your stamina gave in, you slumped over him, eventually let yourself fall onto his chest, because you were too exhausted to go on anymore.

“Want me to finish?” he asked and stroked your shoulder to which you could only give a slight nod.

He kept you locked to his hips with his hands holding onto your sides very tightly and started thrusting upwards. You felt like he had knocked all the air out of your lungs, that was much much power he still possessed. Luckily, for you, you didn’t need to do anything anymore.

He was holding you as you laid on top of him, biting into his shoulder as he thrusted in and out of you with much force, which you really liked. Your thighs tensed around his sides and you whimpered gibberish into his ear, so close to cumming again.

Jaehyun let you release yourself first with a suppressed scream that partly still found a way to escape your lips, and your entire body shook as you felt your high flooding to every fiber of your body. He himself didn’t take much longer and you held him while he experienced his own orgasm, pressing you so close to him as though he was afraid of being parted from you ever again.

When you were getting dressed, he suddenly dropped, “I could get used to it.”

“Doing nasty things in your dad’s old car?” you joked.

But his expression remained serious. “No.”

You didn’t know what he meant.

____

You had written two different versions of Jaehyun’s story.

The first was the one he had read himself and approved of. There were only a few details and personal information sprinkled in here and there about the Falcon while you were trying to fill the emotional gaps with anecdotes and quotes from the other team members under an alias that they were willing to share. You were even successful in interviewing a few spectators and it would include the outcome of the race. 

Overall, the less personal and official version gave a good overview over this illegal sport, and you were truly satisfied with this tame version. It was sufficient enough, intriguing enough and informative as well as emotional enough. At other magazines, the story would have made the headlines, you were sure of that. But for the magazine you worked for, enough was only good enough. You had to be better than enough, you had to exceed.

With this version of the Falcon’s story, you certainly weren’t. It wasn’t headline-material like your editor-in-chief expected after all the work you had put into it.

So you had written another version of this story. 

One in which you talked about the Falcon’s past, his family, what had really happened back then before his career arose again and the relationships between you all. Yes, even between the two of you. And you had even come forward with the truth about the politician after hard research. This version of the story was personal and vulnerable, and it was the truth.

Jaehyun had gotten to read it as the first and only one. 

“It wasn’t.. entirely my fault?” he had asked in disbelief when you gave him the story to read.

You had wanted to wait until you had gotten your facts straight, had enough proof, and then came over to his house to lay it out all in front of him. First, you were unsure whether he would like it, to have had you dig deep into his past. 

But if he came to hate you and started to hate himself less instead, then it would have been worth it nonetheless. From one moment to the other though, you clearly saw in his eyes how much of a burden got lifted off his shoulder. Sure, the fact that the politician had been intoxicated didn’t change the fact that Jaehyun was way over the tempo limit, but he hadn’t been the only one at fault.

The politician had been intoxicated with drugs to the point of not being able to walk properly and had remained in the middle of the street, too far gone to think and speak straightly when Jaehyun had passed by.

“No, it wasn’t entirely your fault,” you assured him.

And with that certainty, you both decided to move past this as this case - to both parties luck, fortunately - had long been decided to be buried under the rug anyway. 

Jaehyun didn’t come to hate you, you felt it in the way he hugged you close and never seemed to let you go after this revelation. He was, in fact, utterly grateful that you had never let go of this topic.

It was a step closer to him being free. From the very beginning, you knew which version you would publish after the race against the Cheetah. You had begged your boss to postpone the release for another month for you to include this race, and he had happily agreed - even to hold off the senior editor position.

____

“Are you nervous?”

You looked at Taeyong who took the seat next to you. Somehow, you weren’t nervous at all, even though tonight was Jaehyun’s big race against the Cheetah with so much money involved unlike ever before.

Later, you would also finish up the story with the outcome of the race and send it over still this night for the entire country to read. Perhaps, you were more nervous about this than the competition itself since you fully trusted your gained skills and Jaehyun himself. You wouldn’t treat this other than all the races before.

“I’m cool so far,” you said. “I just don’t know if it’s good or bad.”

“I hope it’s good. Jaehyun is probably more nervous than he lets slip.”

“I can hear you.” It was Jaehyun’s voice through your headsets.

“Good!” Taeyong exclaimed. “This wasn’t supposed to be a secret.”

You giggled just in the moment Yuta came over to you and put a usb on your desk. Just a few days before, you both had figured out how the new navigation system worked. 

“Just plug it in and do as I told you.”

You nodded and reached for the stick. There were only ten minutes remaining. You had never seen this many people wanting to watch a race before and the tension was sizzling, not only between the teams, but between the spectators too. As far as you had heard, the bets were almost equally split as though no one could decide who would win in their eyes. The Cheetah’s team was in another building, and you wondered whether they were still nervous with the amount of times they had already won so war.

“Hey,” you suddenly heard Jaehyun through the headphones.

“Yes?”

Apparently, he had muted himself for Taeyong since he didn’t respond, but typed something into the computer and then turned around to talk to Johnny and Yuta.

“If something happens,” Jaehyun spoke, “no matter what, will you be with me until the end?”

“Of course.”

“No, I mean it.”

You frowned. “Mean what?”

He sighed deeply as if he was struggling inwardly trying to find the right words. “Will you be with me… until the end?”

“Of course!” you replied happily.

“No! I mean... shit.”

What did he want? “I don’t get it.” 

“I love you.”

You were stunned. 

It was the first time he had said this to you. The first time someone had said this to you. For how long had he been feeling this way already? Was there a chance he’d been in love with you for as long as you loved him too? You were long lost for words and before you could even inhale to say something back, Taeyong was by your side again.

“You guys ready?”

“Yes,” Jaehyun answered quickly as though nothing had ever happened.

“Then get ready.”

____

The moment the race started, you got to witness with your own eyes why the Cheetah was called the Cheetah. Jaehyun was already a remarkable racer, but his rival was immaculate. 

You wouldn’t be Jaehyun’s navigator though if you hadn’t grown together throughout the past weeks. You were his additional eyes, ears and mind. Whatever he lacked or hadn't perfected, you carried out together, making him even stronger so that as of right now, he could easily take it on the Cheetah. You were going to win, that was how much trust you had in you both.

Midway through the race though, which was a real head-to-head contest that had eventually shaken off a part of your tranquility and replaced it with a bit of nervousness because of a few instances from which you quickly recovered nonetheless, Jaehyun started to panic.

“Shit, we didn’t see this coming!” 

He complained about a construction site that had not been on your screen, but only popped up now. As of this instance, he was in advance, being in front of the Cheetah. Now, it was on you for how long he could hold that position.

“Don’t worry,” you tried to calm Jaehyun down while your heart raced almost as fast as the car itself right now. “I got you.”

“Why didn’t the new navigation system that Yuta gave you see it coming?” It sounded almost like an accusation and Taeyong shot a meaningful look at you from the side. “There are construction vehicles all around it!”

“Hey.” You didn’t raise your voice, you just wanted Jaehyun to snap out of his mental deadlock since he was too into it. “Stay calm.”

Sometimes, this happened. And if he was too panicked, he’d lose focus and make mistakes. That was why you were here. By now, you knew how to handle them and not let him irritate you or vice versa.

“I’m sorry.” Jaehyun had instant regrets. “I just want to win, I need to win.”

“I know. But to win, you have to trust me.”

You could only imagine his fingers gripping onto the steering wheel like his life depended on it, the knuckles first turning red, then white. 

“I can’t lose,” he breathed and repeated like a mantra, “I can’t lose.”

On the screen, you perceived that he wasn’t as fast and sharp with his driving anymore, the Cheetah drawing closer to erase the remaining meters between the two cars. The vehicles appeared on the screen as dots on a map, the two that represented the racing cars now almost melting into one. Your entire team had gathered around you and were listening to you speak, only you and Taeyong knowing the details of your driver’s panic so far. 

“You won’t lose, because I’m here with you, Jaehyun,” you assured him slowly, aware that in such kind of situations, you had to pretend to be calm to keep the driver at peace, even though you were tense as hell too. “It’s me, okay? I love you too, and I will be with you until the end. I know the meaning of this now, and of course I will.”

Silence - not only on the other side of the headset, but also in the hall among your team.

“Please say something,” you addressed to Jaehyun while ignoring all the other members’ grins. “This is kind of really embarrassing now.”

“I-I… I can’t,” he stuttered. “I’m… too happy.”

You smiled. Even though you were only connected via voice and there were other people standing behind you, you felt more connected to Jaehyun like never before. 

“Are you ready to win this game with me now?” you asked him.

You felt his confident grin in every fiber of your body, it had given him the boost he needed. "Absolutely." 

“Hey, we’re here too!” Johnny interrupted you. “What about us?”

“Get lost.” Jaehyun returned back to his grumble, but everyone knew that he didn’t mean it this way.

When you all broke out into a laughter together that lifted off the tension, even just a little bit, you finally felt like you had long reached the finish line. Not in terms of the race, but in terms of other things. 

Trust, friendship and even love.

Because even if you had been among them only for a few weeks, you couldn’t imagine a better feeling than the warmth they caused you to experience right now with Johnny putting his hand on your shoulder in a comforting gesture, Taeyong smiling at you as he pointed at something on the screen, and Yuta rolling his eyes, seemingly not minding, but silently enjoying the entire situation.

This was it. This was your family. There was no deeper connection than you had with your team. You were going to win.

____

And you did.

Jaehyun crossed the finish line first.

Jaehyun won against the Cheetah.

Jaehyun was crowned King of the Streets.

…

But he didn’t last on the throne for long. 

Only eight hours.

____

“King of the Streets” 

… was the headline of your story that you finished late at night and sent over to your editor-in-chief so that it could still be printed for next month’s issue with the intention to be published the morning after.

____

“Congratulations.”

“Pardon?”

You were sitting in your boss’ office, the same chair, the same desk, the same window and the same view in sight. A few weeks ago, this had meant everything to you. You had wanted this, so badly, and you would have done everything for it. Now, it meant nothing anymore.

You hadn’t seen the new issue yet, that was not why you had come here. In your hands, you were holding a notice, but it had got nothing to do with what you had handed in the night before.

“‘King of the Streets’? I couldn’t have thought of a better title.” Your boss the issue in front of your eyes, but you rarely paid attention to it. “It’s great that you went with the way of leaving out the guy’s real name and even the politician’s name. Honestly, if I didn’t know who it was myself, I wouldn’t be able to guess. Now, people will get invested and do some digging. Congratulations on your promotion to senior editor!”

“Pardon?” you repeated.

You hadn’t written about the politician as agreed on. In fact, you had left out the entire storyline about the incident. That was why you had been so sure the story wouldn’t make headlines, and in your hands you were actually holding your resignation notice. You didn’t want to become senior editor. You wanted to quit.

With trembling hands, you reached out to the newest issue and looked at the headline. Indeed, this was your title “King of the Streets” with a stock photo that showed cars by night in front of a skyline. Your breath shortened when you searched for the right page and you felt like the air was being cut in your lungs when you stumbled over the story and started reading.

This was not your article. At least not the one that had been supposed to get published. It was the one only Jaehyun had gotten to read earlier, his very own, personal version. You felt sick in your stomach. How was this possible? Had you been hacked? Had someone secretly gotten access to your laptop?

“I… I sent you this?” Your voice shook with each syllable.

The editor-in-chief nodded. “Only a few minutes before the boring, second one. Of course I went with the first one. Who wouldn’t?”

“I didn’t send you this!” you nearly screamed. “How could you have published this?!”’

“Please calm down, Miss. This was sent from your very own email.”

“Show me,” you demanded and smacked the issue back on the desk. “Show me the mail!”

He sighed deeply and murmured something about short term memory, but you didn’t care much about his shenanigans anymore. Either way, today was the last day you’d ever interact. You’d just leave, what could he possibly do about it?

When your ex-boss shifted the desktop into your direction, you directly noticed, “This is not my work mail.”

It was your usual mailing name from a random provider, but neither your work mail address or your private one. Everything was similar except for the domain, indicating that someone had made this up on purpose.

“Yes, but I figured you might be using another mail, because you weren’t at home or didn’t have access. It was the big competition, so it was possible, right? Aside from that, this is your topic and writing style, even signed with your name. How could I have doubted it? I mean… this is your story after all, isn’t it?”

“It is.”

There was nothing you could say to defend yourself in front of him. You had written this all yourself, and the fact that it had gotten leaked wasn’t his problem.  But someone else’s…

“I have to go,” you said.

“Well, when will you come back? We have to talk about your new position’s details.”

You laughed bitterly and didn’t forget to drop the letter on his desk. “I won’t come back.”

You didn’t care about your belongings. You just grabbed your bag, jacket and laptop and left the office without saying goodbye to anyone. The only thing on your mind right now was that you had to talk to Jaehyun and explain everything to him.

The more surprised you were to find him already sitting in the lobby. You were stunned, but as you continued your movements towards him, Jaehyun looked up, and your blood froze. He wore the biggest scowl on his face, and hidden behind it was the one emotion that hurt you the most: disappointment.

“Jaeh-”

“How could you?!” he yelled and arose from the coach, but he didn’t approach you. “I trusted you!”

You were assured it wasn’t because he was afraid he'd lose himself. He just couldn’t look you in the eyes as disappointment came forward more and more, revealing his true feelings. He couldn’t keep the angry facade up for much longer upon meeting you, the person he loved. But you still saw. Jaehyun was utterly hurt, and it was caused by this very same person.

You didn’t need to explain yourself, it wouldn’t change anything. You had betrayed and disappointed him like his father had, and there was no excuse for it. His entire past and deepest conflits had just been revealed to the country, and even though it wasn’t you who had published the story, you were the one who had written it.

Telling Jaehyun that it hadn’t been sent in by you wouldn’t change a single thing. The deed had already been done and there was no going back. You were just another person he had entirely lost faith and trust in, and there was no way for it to be restored. At least not right now, not immediately.

Jaehyun clenched his fists and pressed through gritted teeth, “You promised to me, I trusted you.”

Every syllable he directed at you pierced directly through your heart. You shouldn’t have written anything in the first place, it should have just stayed between the two of you. What had you thought while writing all of this? That you were doing him a favor? For what? No, it wouldn’t change anything, and it wouldn’t make him less sad and disappointed if he knew that you weren’t the person who had published it.

So you simply said, “I’m sorry, I should have never written this story.” 

“I’ve always known you journalists were selfish bastards after all,” he hissed.

No heartbreak that you had ever experienced before came close to what you were feeling right now. At this point, you thought that you had been left by so many people in your life that you would need to entirely shut down.

Jaehyun didn’t speak it out, but you certainly sensed that he was going to leave you now, too. This was what you got for always being so nosy, for wanting so much and giving everything for it. In the end, when you reached your aim, everything didn’t matter when you lost every person that meant the world to you along the way.

“Get lost! Keep out of my sight and don’t ever dare talking to me again!”

When Jaehyun turned around without looking at you one more time, it felt like you were dying. So many people had walked out of your life already, and the man you loved the most being one of them hadn’t been in your book before. But now, it was very much real. It felt hurtfully real.

“Miss, are you okay?” the receptionist asked when she was approaching you.

You hadn’t noticed how your notebook had fallen on the floor, paper flying around everywhere. You were still looking after Jaehyun, petrified, while the young woman started to collect the sheets by your feet, but you barely noticed her. How was one to function, when they had lost what they loved the most?

Not much later, the receptionist was holding your arm after you had broken down crying in the middle of all your belongings. There was no one else anymore who could have emotionally supported you anyway, so who did it now was irrelevant to you.It didn’t help one bit though.

____

“Jiyeong?”

“Can I come in?”

It had been two weeks since Jaehyun had walked out of your life and you quit your job. Every minute of the day, you were hoping that he would come by to talk it all out. Not once had you hoped that his sister would do so instead of him.

“Sure.”

When she took off her shoes, walked past your small entrance and into your room, her eyes widened. “Why the many moving boxes? Are you…”

“I’ll be going away.”

“Where to?”

You smiled, but remained quiet, and Jiyeong immediately understood. 

You didn’t want her to know and no one else either. Not because you were afraid that she or someone else would tell anyone, but because telling anyone at all would open the possibility of getting haunted by your past again. And this time, you just really wanted a clean cut.

“When are you leaving?” she asked instead, not even mildly offended to your relief.

“Next week.”

“I wish you all the best.”

“Thank you, Jiyeong. I really appreciate that.”

“Please don’t say this so easily.” Her expression changed into a pained one. “You’ll hate me from now on.”

“Why would I possibly hate you?”

She didn’t reply immediately, but nervously stepped from one foot on the other. She barely dared to look into your eyes, kneading her fingers nervously. “Because it was me.”

You were confused. “What?”

Even a bit quieter, she confessed, “It was me who sent the story to your boss.”

You were lost for words and still in hope you had heard wrong. “You sent the published story to my magazine that night?”

Slowly, Jiyeong nodded. “Yes. I found the story still open on my brother’s laptop when I went into his room to look for a charger. I couldn’t look past it, I really needed to read it. And it was so beautiful. My brother is just so deeply misunderstood, I was so relieved someone else saw it. So I wanted the entire country to know too.”

It was a lot for you to take in, and you still couldn’t believe this was real. “Did you create a fake mail account in my name and send it to my boss this way?”

“Yes. The mail from you with the article was still open, so it was easy to secure a similar address. I just acted on my personal intentions and disregarded your and my family’s feelings. I didn’t know what I would cause by doing that. I didn’t know I would not only get our mother worried, but hurt my brother and you too. I deeply apologize.”

“Jiyeong…”

“I thought,” she interrupted you, “I thought everyone would finally see my brother the way my mom, I, his friends and you see him. That he’s more than all that people paint him to be, and that the incident back then was different from everyone’s make up story. Never have I thought that I would not only ruin the lives of the people involved too, the least his or yours. I tried to change it up and make it as anonymous as possible, but I’m only writing in school, I don't have any real life experience, I’m still a child. I didn’t want all  that, that was not supposed to happen! What was I thinking?!”

Her voice gradually grew louder and more upset, and when she hit the last sentence, she was close to tears. 

You remembered the time when you were a teenager. There had been some grave mistakes you had made and many words you had said that you would want to have taken back immediately, but the deed had already been done and feelings had been hurt, including yours. Sometimes, the guilt gnawed on you like a parasite that never stopped being hungry.

You had never wanted to become a person who made someone else live with that feeling forever. In front of you just stood a teenage girl who had wanted to do the right thing and who just didn’t know what the right thing was. So you stretched out your arms and pulled her into an embrace. Jiyeon begged you over and over again to not hate her or her brother. You loved both of them dearly, how could you?

When she left after sharing a bottle of ice cream with you to soothe your both shaken up feelings, you also learned that Jaehyun had been informed about Jiyeong’s misconduct directly after he had come home the day the story was published - so two weeks ago.

This entire time, he knew. He had known all along and he never contacted you.

You hoped so badly that Jaehyun would still come. You were even still holding onto the slightest sliver of hope the day you moved away from Seoul, until the moment you closed your empty apartment door behind you.

But he never came.

It was just as you thought: It didn’t change anything, whether you or anyone else had sent in the story. The outcome would have always been the same.

So, if Jaehyun had decided to move on, then you would too.

Even though you had lived one of the best times of your life in that city, now it bearded nothing but a sorrowful past and broken dreams. 

You wanted to move on, too.

____

2 years later

Moving out of a city didn’t simultaneously mean continuing on.

You had first needed to learn how to start life all over again.

It hadn’t been easy to begin again in Daejeon. It had taken quite a bit of time to find an affordable apartment, although the city was much less populated than the capital. It had even taken you much longer to find a job that fitted you more than the last one, and only recently had you settled with a new friend group.

Overall, life was going pretty well for you now.

Were it not for the fact that you still missed Jaehyun with every fiber of your heart.

After your published story, many newspapers had made follow up articles, even leaking the party chairman’s name. Of course he had then been fired from his position and the party would not make it to be one of those with the highest votes anymore. 

Not a word was lost about the Falcon though. It was like he had never existed.

But you knew better.

Jaehyun had stopped street racing entirely and had enrolled back into university for his last year. He had taken the last race’s prize money to pay off the family’s debt - his entire team had left their amount to help him out this time, including you. This had allowed him to sell his car and start working part time in an electric shop. 

It hadn’t been by far as much as he had earned as a racer, but they had made ends meet with honest work.

You were wholeheartedly happy for him when Taeyong had told you all this one day when you had met in Daejong a year ago.

“He misses you very much too,” he had said, and you had smiled lightly.

“I thought he hated me.”

“Did you forget what he said during his last race?”

That he loved you. 

“I will never forget.”

Jaehyun had won the biggest race in his whole career, but he still wasn’t entirely free. Being crowned King of the Streets, having won a lot of money and becoming popular as well as getting your love - all that hadn’t set him free from his past.

“But now, it doesn’t matter anymore,” you had added, speaking to Taeyong.

He had wanted more time not only for, but also with his mom and sister. Being a good son and brother like his father could have never been.

Jaehyun couldn't put his life on hold to leave his family eventually, too. You had understood, so you had quietly accepted all this, letting him go and focus on the things he saw as important now. Where it had been racing and winning before, his priorities had entirely shifted.

If your love wasn’t part of this anymore but had made him realize this, then what more could you ask for?

By now, another year later, Jaehyun must have graduated from university already and his sister must be a sophomore in high school. Every now and then, you thought about them and prayed for their safety, but your life wasn’t on hold anymore.

“Miss, your interview partner is waiting in the lobby.”

“Okay, thank you.”

You took your notebook from your desk and walked out of your office. The room wasn’t as big as the one in your old company and the view was not as splendid, but you were editor-in-chief for the city's biggest magazine. You could write about things you really cared about like politics and things going on in town, nobody pressured you to cover topics that required you to do criminal things.

The company fitted your personality, your morals. It was perfect for you. 

A week ago, you had gotten a request from someone who claimed to have a really good story for you. Even after telling the person via mail that your magazine didn’t take on this kind of sensational story, the person was being persistent, so you gave in and were open to hear what they had to say.

“Good morning, I-”

The last words got stuck in your throat and your breath caught simultaneously. You let your notebook nearly slip from your hands upon encountering your today’s interview partner.

“Good morning.”

He smiled the smile you had lured out of him only after a few weeks of knowing each other. In these two years, he hadn’t changed one bit. He looked more mature and admittedly also more relaxed, the scowl entirely gone. His clothes had changed into more sophisticated ones as he wore black dress pants and a white button up.

“Life’s been treating you well,” he added. “I’m happy for you.”

His deep, soft voice let you nearly melt again, but you were a professional, so you regained your composure real quick. 

“I heard you have a really good story for me Mr. Jeong,” you smiled. “I’m really looking forward to it.”

____

Jaehyun wanted you to publish a story. 

This time, with him and with his name written all over it.

“I don’t want to hide anymore, I don’t want to have secrets. I want to come clear, not only with myself, my family and friends, but also with everyone involved. I’ve already gathered permission from everyone, and even though it admittedly took me very long to reach this conclusion, I’m a hundred percent sure I want to do it. And most importantly, I want you to do it.”

It would be his personal story, from his own point of view where he would talk about his past, his father’s wrongdoings, his struggles and what he had been up to since his final race. He asked you to sell this story to your old company for a wider audience and for a follow up. 

Legally, he weighed himself secure since he had talked to a few layers before making this decision. It was all for his conscience. If this helped Jaehyun finally move on entirely, then you would happily do it for him.

“Back then, during my last race, my navigator had never used the new system. I only found out much later.”

You paused your writing and looked up. You had settled yourselves in a conference room to work on this story without any interruptions. “Why did she never use it, Mr. Jeong?”

“She had so much faith and trust in our connection, she was sure she could do it without, that was how much she believed in me.”

You lowered your head and pretended to write, but out came only gibberish. Your heart was racing. You always fondly thought back to that time. “She must have been a real baddie,” you joked.

“She was.” The corners of Jaehyun’s lips curled upwards. “I don’t regret anything except for one thing.”

“Which is…?”

“Letting her go.”

You were asking yourself why you suddenly couldn’t see anymore as your vision was very blurry. When you wiped the back of your hand over your eyes, you realized that you had started crying, and the tears had stained the writing on your paper.

“I have one more question for you,” you only brought out.

“Yes?”

“Have you married yet, Mr. Jeong?”

The pause that followed almost tore you apart as you closed your eyes and prayed inwardly.

“I’ve been waiting for a special person to return to Seoul,” he nearly whispered. “When she didn’t, I went to search for her.”

You looked up to him, tears still burning on the brim, but somehow, you didn’t feel sad anymore. You felt more overwhelmed with this entire revelation that caused your heart to finally flutter again. 

You had never stopped loving Jaehyun.

“And… what if that person doesn’t want to go back to Seoul?”

Jaehyun stretched out his hand and laid his palm against your cheek, wiping away your tears. It felt so familiar and warm, a feeling you had deeply missed. Even though there was still a respectful distance between you that had built up in the past two years, the connection was as deep and intense as ever. 

It was at this moment that you realized Jaehyun had never stopped loving you too.

“Then, I’ll go wherever she goes.”

[scourgeofmyownbrain]

Now, I just want to start by saying I love BabBee and Dadimus. I do, 10/10 would enjoy again, but I think Y'all are neglecting the comedic and story potential of Bumblebee and Optimus meeting as ✨Adults✨ and still becoming a family.

Imagine with me, if you will, Cybertron ravaged by war. Things have fallen to shit. Megatron has been dragging these divorce proceedings out for years. Bumblebee was born around the beginning, give or take a few years, I don't care about specifics. His parents were sadly killed early on in his life due to something war related and Bumblebee has grown up alone. He manages to survive to adulthood, and he joins the Autobots. Bumblebee has been drowning in the consequences of this war since day 1 and he wants to help fix it. If Megatron won't sign the divorce papers then Bumblebee will. Yada Yada Yada Sad Backstory This is so sad, Alexa play The Less I Know The Sexy Back.

Anyhoo, Bumblebee is very good at his job as a scout. Top of the line shit, best of the best, 5 stars would eat here again. He's so good he gets promoted to work directly under Optimus Prime himself. Look at our boy go, we're so proud of him, you get that bag sister. Overtime, Bumblebee manages to become friends with Optimus (and the rest of Team Prime but we're focusing on Optimus rn) and they get pretty close. They're work besties, Bumblebee will make a joke over comms and Optimus will smile and say "I N D E E D, B U M B L E B E E.". Fucking insufferable, the both of them, it's so cute. You know how you can become friends with people twice/half your age when you're working at a hard job? That's what happened here, they've been through the (actual) trenches together, they've bonded.

So at some point, Bumblebee gets seriously injured while under Optimus's command, like some life threatening shit. Whether or not it's voicebox related is universe dependent , so we're not going to specify what happens, but it's serious. Bumblebee survives, obviously, but Optimus feels SO bad about it. Oh the Guilt is strong. When he's visiting Bee, some of this leaks out and Bumblebee tells him that he should not blame himself, Bee is choosing to fight, if he dies while fighting for the good of Cybertron, so be it. Better him than some innocent spark in the future. Plus, Bee only got hurt because of a stupid mistake he made, not anything Optimus did.

Bumblebee says this to try and reassure his friend/superior, but now Optimus feels WORSE. Bumblebee is like half Optimus's age (Bee and Optimus are whatever the Cybertronian equivalent of 20 and 40 are, respectively) and had nothing to do with the start of the war, and he's just as ready to die as Optimus is? And he's blaming himself for his injury? That he only got because Optimus told him to do something? Optimus is NOT going to let that slide, no he's not! Over his dead body! He is not crying in the club rn, what are you talking about.

Optimus has decided Bumblebee can not die now. He has declared, as the 13th Prime, that Bumblebee dying has become illegal and he will do everything in his power to enforce this new Law of The Universe That Should Never Be Broken Ever. Now, whenever the two are on a mission, Optimus tries to protect Bumblebee as best he can. He doesn't want to coddle him, Bumblebee is an adult and Optimus respects that but he'll be damned if he lets Bumblebee get seriously hurt when he could have prevented it. He also starts checking up on him when they're not fighting, asking how his day is going, how a mission went, making sure he see's a medic if he's hurt, making sure he's eating his energon, all that good stuff. Bumblebee is his friend, he's going to make sure he's okay, this is perfectly normal friend behavior. The rest of team prime is doing a similar thing, they all want to make sure Bumblebee is doing okay. Optimus isn't being parental in the slightest, he is being very normal. (Author's note: Optimus and Team Prime are being very Not normal about their emotions. All of them have some level of abandonment issues/lost-a-loved-one-itis and can no longer be normal about people they care about.)

Bumblebee recognizes what Optimus (and the rest of Team Prime) is doing. He knows that Optimus cares for him; he cares for him right back. Bee's not stupid, he knows that he's been getting some special treatment in the form of vaguely parental affection. And you know what? He likes it, a lot. He didn't get any growing up and now he's getting it from a guy he really looks up to, why would he pass this up. Bumblebee tries to return this affection he's being given in any way he can. He makes sure Optimus isn't overworking himself by visiting him while he's working, he makes sure Optimus is eating by inviting him to eat with him, he drags Optimus into the med-bay with him so he see's a medic every once in a while, he tries to make Optimus smile with his dumb jokes and antics, the whole kit and caboodle. Bee sees Optimus as some kind of parental figure, and he's going to make sure his newly acquired pop-pop is okay, just like he's doing for Bee. The Pop-Pop thing was a joke (Kind of). Why is he looking for cybertronian legal papers? That is none of your business, Bee just wants to see them for fun. No he's not drunk, the container of high grade started empty.

Life continues, Optimus (and Team Prime) continues to take care of Bee in his unknowingly parental way and Bumblebee is vibing with his newly acquired dad. It takes a while for anyone to acknowledge the new dynamic, Bumblebee just doesn't explicitly bring it up and Optimus hasn't pulled his head out of his suppressed emotion ass long enough to realize it. And keep in mind that Bumblebee is still an Adult and they are still technically coworkers, they still have a job to do, a war to win. Eventually though, maybe after the Autobots have left Cybertron, Optimus finally processes his emotions and realizes he see's Bee as family.

Optimus: Bumblebee, I care for you deeply, and I've come to see you as family.

Bumblebee: Aw, thank you! I consider you family as well. *Hands OP a data pad* In fact, you adopted me months ago.

Optimus (who did not sign any adoption papers at any time): I did what?

Bumblebee: I forged your signature.

At some point in the future, some guy is being a dick to Optimus, i don't really know what could happen, but Bumblebee steps in to defend Optimus with "That's my dad, you bitch!" and fucking slams the guy and Optimus is just standing there buffering, bc he's still getting used to showing and taking obvious affection and he approches Bee later to ask if he really considers Optimus as his dad. And Bee just kind of stares at him then points at the bumper sticker on OP's chest and says "yes, you idiot, I gave you that sticker for a reason" bc the sticker says "Worlds Best Dad" and it matches the "Worlds Best Son" sticker Bee got for himself and I'm rambling, I'll shut up now.

I made more

i did it again

[bambiihee]

Mommy Seonghwa and don't ask who and don't ask why.

MOMMY, DEAREST. 박성화

⋆. 𐙚 ̊ NSFW + MDNI! park seonghwa x fem!reader • mommy kink (m. rec), soft dom!hwa, sub!reader, teasing, brat tamer!hwa, oral (f. rec), pussy slapping, dirty talk, vaginal fingering

[notes.] this honestly made me giggle so hard when i first got it?? okay baby i wont ask questions <3 usually mommy hwa isn’t my favorite thing ever? but seeing him in heels recently has been Doing Things to me… model!hwa when i catch you… (this is a crazy thing to make as my first ateez post. wow.)

to celebrate 400 followers, i'm opening my inbox for drabble requests!! please send your thoughts here!

it was funny, at first.

well, it actually wasn’t ever funny to seonghwa, but he didn’t have the guts to tell you that.

you were just copying his members, repeating a silly nickname that they threw at him every once in a while. when they did it, it never bothered him in the slightest, and he would just laugh along with the rest of them. it was just a little joke.

but his members had only ever called him mom or mother. They had never called him mommy.

the first time you said it, seonghwa had been sure he had misheard you. but no, when he asked you to repeat yourself you did loudly and clearly; “could you grab that for me please, mommy?”

seonghwa's brain short circuted.

you and the other boys howled with laughter at his shocked expression, wide-eyed and stuttering out a near-illegible “y-yeah, sure—“, just barely able to pull himself together to save face in front of everyone. he gives a halfhearted chuckle, but inside his mind was reeling.

it wasn’t that he hated it, it was that he liked it a little too much.

every time he hears it his stomach flips and his ears turn red, something about the way the world flows from your mouth so sweetly and naturally that made his thoughts go crazy. his sweet little doll, pretty face so innocent when you're calling him something like... that.

something so dominant.

Maybe that makes him weird, the nickname "mommy" making him feel powerful instead of emasculated. How it makes him feel so dominant over you, fills him with the desire to take care of you. he finds it embarrassing, to a degree, but he can't deny how the word and the thoughts that come with it makes his cock twitch in his pants.

for the first time, seonghwa wishes that he was better at hiding things from you, because he's certain you've started to catch on.

again, and again, and again, seonghwa hears the nickname fall from your mouth.

mommy. mommy. mommy.

"mommy, please?" you beg him one time, looking up at him with big wet eyes, asking for him to buy you boba of all things, and it takes everything he had not to cum in his pants.

and when he folds and hands you his card, because he's utterly powerless when it comes to spoiling you, you shoot him the prettiest smile and say; "thank you, mommy."

he was at his limit, and that was before you took it into the bedroom.

because with you laid out underneath him, late one night with his head buried between your plush thighs, you cry out to him, "fuck, mommy, more!"

seonghwa groans into your pussy, unable to hold back just how much he enjoys the nickname when he's been blessed with what it sounds like when you moan. "more?" he chuckles, gently biting down on your clit, "my, you're greedy tonight."

he dives in anyways, just like you knew he would, always eager to please even when he's teasing you for being bratty. "i knew you liked it when i called you that." you giggle breathlessly, but your laughter cuts into a choked moan, seonghwa's long fingers wrapping tight around your throat as he spreads your pussy lips wide with his other hand.

"and still you said it every damn second." he tsks, dark hooded eyes looking up at you from between your legs. "been a bad girl, haven't you, my love? trying to get mommy to snap and punish you?"

you swallow hard, and seonghwa can feel your throat bobbing beneath his fingers. "hwa--"

"that's not my name, is it?" he pulls away from you just enough to land a wet slap to your cunt, hard enough to make your thighs tremble and your lips fall open in a broken squeal. he soothes the sting with his tongue sliding wetly up between your folds, stopping to rub tight circles against your oversensitive clit. his hot breaths fan your leaking entrance, painfully empty, twitching needily around nothing but air. "there's something else i'd like you to scream tonight."

his lips suction around your clit, and two long fingers slide deep into your hole, curling deliciously against your sweet spot with a practiced ease. you throw your head back against the pillows, your eyes blown wide and your mouth hung open;

"o-oh my god-- mommy!"

[dailynnt]

FRIENDS WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE

⊹ Summary: Jungkook and you, his childhood friend, live together in an apartment, sharing space as roommates. Your relationship, built on years of friendship, is gradually becoming strained by growing sexual tension. You decide to become friends with benefits, trying not to complicate your feelings. But Jungkook's world is not so simple. When you begin to realize that he is hiding something, you open the veil of his double life - a world of mafia, criminal activity, and risk that could ruin not only your deal, but everything you valued in each other.

⊹ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ Fem!Reader

⊹ Characters: The Reader, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hoseok.

⊹ 🔞 Age restrictions: 18+

⊹ 👩🏼‍❤️‍👨🏻 Relationships: ⚤

⊹ 📘 Number of part: 30/30

⊹ 🖇️ Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character, mafia au, illegal trade, deaths of minor characters, weapons, swear words, scenes of violence, coercion, psychological pressure, death of one of the main characters.

⊹ 👩🏼‍💻 From the author: Here is the last chapter 💜💔 I have a few words for you my beloved. Please read my "love and gratitude letter" for you. By the way, I reread the text and it seemed to me that there was some kind of misunderstanding, but I assure you (you will understand when you read what I'm saying) that Jungkook love Y/N very much, but at that moment he had to deal with Doohoon. He didn't leave her to her own devices, even though she was hurting, it was just that things needed to be resolved with Doohoon! Oh, I hope you don't misunderstand me 🫂💞❤️‍🔥

⊹ 🫂 Dedication: For you, my love @myjungkookthighs. You are my favorite person 😘🥰 You know that I appreciate you so much and LOVE you🥰💜

⊹ ⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please don't read this story!

⊹ 📋Tag list: @myjungkookthighs, @notsevenwithyou, @nikkinikj, @lovelyyylunaa222, @jiminiemanura, @jalexad, @kelsyx33, @bhonbhon, @unholyforjk, @ambiee3, @mianhae-baozi , @someoneelse0109, @medstudentlifestyle, @mskookie, @kooccult, @smokinghotstargirl , @curse-of-art, @curse-of-art2 @wintaemoonjen, @jungkookswifeeeeeee, @someonegoood, @kooko007, @indigomoonchild09, @zeytiable (If anyone wants to be in my tag list let me know)

≣ Chapter Index ↓

Part 30. A candy with the taste of revenge. 

The morning was gray and cold. The sun was barely breaking through the heavy clouds, as if hesitating whether to fully illuminate the day. The wind swayed the bare trees along the highway, but the speed at which the Mercedes was traveling made sway hardly noticeable.

Jungkook silently pressed down on the gas pedal, making the car fly forward. The night was sleepless. He, Taehyung, Jimin, Hoseok, and Jin watched the surveillance footage, trying to find even the slightest clue. When Jimin found out that your trail broke off at Panho Bridge, Jungkook thought he was going to go crazy. He immediately went to the Han River, but found no sign that you had been there.

Later, he received a call from Jimin and ordered him to go to the company immediately to track the cameras around the city. At the same time, they checked the managers. They found you only in the morning. Jin was able to connect to all the city's cameras and saw Doohoon taking you outside of Seoul. According to Jin, you were probably in a house that once belonged to Doohoon's uncle.

After receiving the coordinates, Jungkook, Taehyung, Jimin, and Hoseok immediately went to the location. But when they arrived, the house was empty. Only fresh tire marks on the ground and leftover food indicated that someone had recently been there.

Soon, Jin called. He and Yoongi had managed to find the "rat" who had been leaking information to Doohoon and Sehun. It was one of Namjoon's managers, Seo Insoo. He heard about your kidnapping, knew that Jungkook and his friends were looking for you, and passed this information on to Doohoon. That's why you were no longer in the house. Jin caught the traitor red-handed on the phone and managed to track the GPS signal. This allowed him to find out exactly where Doohoon was and where he could have gone.

In order not to waste time, they split up. Jungkook and Taehyung took the highway toward Osan, while Jimin and Hosuk go to Suwon. Jin managed to catch the latter's geolocation, but Doohoon broke his phone, so their next steps were still a guess. However, he had identified several places where you could be hiding.

Now Jungkook was racing to the first of them, an old aluminum factory that had once belonged to Doohoon's uncle. The factory was on the outskirts of Osan, far from residential areas, so no one would hear if something went wrong.

Taehyung sat next to him, watching his friend closely. From time to time, he nervously ran his hand through his hair, as if trying to organize not only his strands but also his thoughts.

"We're almost there. As soon as you're near the warehouses, dial us so we know." - Taehyung said seriously into the phone as he spoke to Jimin.

Jungkook was focused on the road, but inside he was seething. How could he let this happen? Why didn't he tell you to wait for him at the company, and then you could have gone home together? Then no one would have kidnapped you.

He couldn't believe it. Doohoon dared to take you away. He made you go through fear and pain. And if he laid a finger on you.

Jungkook will make him pay. Death will seem like a gift to Doohoon compared to what he has in store for him.

"Jungkook!" - He suddenly heard his name, but he didn't even react. The car was going 180 kilometers per hour. The rain was starting to fall harder, so he couldn't afford to be distracted. "Can you even hear me?" - Taehyung asked with a hint of irritation.

"I hear you." - Jungkook grunted, but he didn't really hear anything. His thoughts were only about you.

Taehyung looked carefully at his friend's profile. After a moment of silence, he asked cautiously.

"Is she... pregnant?" 

Jungkook instantly tensed. The thought could have made him even angrier.

"Yes." - He answered shortly, gripping the steering wheel.

"I'd like to congratulate you, brother, but now's not the best time, is it?" - Taehyung said with a subtle smile. Jungkook quickly looked at him and replied. 

"You can congratulate me when Y/N is safe. And Doohoon is dead." 

"How long she’s pregnant ...um..." - Taehyung wanted to know how long Jungkook had been hiding it. "I.e. how long you know?" - He finally asked. Jungkook didn't want to talk about your pregnancy right now. The fact that you were pregnant and being held captive by Doohoon was a pain in his heart. 

"Not long. She's five weeks pregnant." - Jungkook replied, finding his strength. Taehyung clicked his tongue nervously. 

"Damn piece of shit..." - He sighed heavily, searching for words. "This makes things so much more complicated..." - Taehyung felt a strong tension. He knew it was probably better to keep quiet and not make Jungkook feel even worse. Jungkook kept stepping on the gas in silence. "We'll find her." - Taehyung said seriously. He had to support his friend. Jungkook nodded, although deep down he had a feeling that they might not make it.

A few minutes later, Taehyung received a text message on his phone. He read it quickly and then looked up.

"Jimin says they found another trail. He sent his men to another possible hideout for Doohoon." - He said tensely. 

"Let them look." - Jungkook grunted, not slowing down.

Fog began to envelop the highway. Combined with the rain, it only made driving more difficult, but Jungkook didn't care. In his mind, he was already there - in that damn factory. The huge, dark silhouette of the plant was already looming ahead. The rain had intensified, large drops slamming against the windshield, leaving blurry marks that the wipers immediately destroyed. The wind was also getting stronger. 

Jungkook slammed on the brakes, stopping the car a few meters from the entrance. They couldn't risk driving straight into the territory - it was too easy to get trapped.

"The rain is playing into our hands." - Taehyung said quietly, looking in the direction of the factory. "But we have to be careful, he's definitely got a weapon with him." 

Jungkook silently got out of the car, throwing his jacket over his shoulders. The pistol in his holster gave off a pleasant heaviness - something he would need today. 

"Jimin, we're here. We're going to go inside with Jungkook. If we don't get in touch in 30 minutes, come here." - Taehyung muttered into the phone, dialing his friend. 

"Okay, you got it. I'll be waiting for your call. We're on our way too." - Jimin's voice came through the phone. Taehyung was opening the trunk, taking out another weapon. Jungkook stared intensely at the factory. Its lifeless appearance made Jungkook feel pain. He can keep you there. It's cold, dirty, and you're probably exhausted and scared. Anger filled every cell in Jungkook's body. He will destroy Doohoon, today, once and for all, because he crossed the line. 

"Are you ready?" - Taehyung asked as he walked up to Jungkook and reloaded his gun.

Jungkook glanced at his friend and then turned his gaze back to the factory windows, which were completely dark. A cold fire burned in his eyes.

"I will destroy it!" - Jungkook said and walked forward with determination. 

Jungkook walked in front, Taehyung a little behind. They looked around carefully, and walked through the thicket so that they were less visible through the windows, in case Doohoon was watching. The rain dripped monotonously, soaking Jungkook and Taehyung within minutes of reaching the entrance of the dilapidated factory. 

It was dusty and cold inside. Jungkook stood at the entrance, peering into the darkness. It was quiet inside - too quiet. But he knew you were there. He could feel it.

The wind came through the cracks and made the place even more oppressive. Jungkook and Taehyung looked around. The factory was big and they had to go around to find you. Taehyung pushed Jungkook's shoulder lightly, getting his attention.

"We need to split up. She could be anywhere." - Taehyung said in a low voice. Jungkook nodded. He knew it was for the best, but right now, all he wanted to do was find you and take you away.

Taehyung went to inspect the lower part, while Jungkook went upstairs. He pointed the gun forward and listened to every sound. Jungkook walked quietly and like a shadow. Because of the heavy black clouds and rain, it was dark inside. 

Jungkook moved upstairs, walking so quietly that even the old metal floor beneath him made little sound. Water from his jacket dripped onto the concrete, leaving dark spots.

The aluminum smelter was huge and abandoned. It had once been a bustling place, but now only the wind wandered through the empty workshops, making the rusty beams creak. In some places, broken wires hung from the ceiling, and pieces of scrap metal lay underfoot. The air was full of dust and the smell of rust, mingling with the musty aroma of moisture.

Jungkook cautiously walked past the row of broken machines, his eyes sliding around every nook and cranny. There were no footprints. No sound. Only the wind howling and the sound of raindrops on the iron roof.

He looked into a small back room, but it was empty.

"Where are you?" - He whispered. His heart was beating faster and faster. Anger, anxiety, and impatience mixed into one burning cocktail.

Suddenly he heard voices. Jungkook stopped abruptly. He cocked his gun, listening. The voice grew louder. It was right above him. His heart thumped loudly against his chest.

He raised his head. He started to move toward the sound. And then he heard Doohoon screaming. Jungkook ran toward the stairs.

They swayed under his weight, creaking as if they were threatening to collapse at any moment. But he didn't stop.

When he reached the top floor, he found himself in a long corridor. Old lamps were hanging from the ceiling, but none of them were lit. It was even darker here than downstairs. 

A few more steps. He heard nothing, it was quiet again. Jungkook stopped in front of a door, which was the only one slightly ajar. It was old, with peeling paint.

He put his hand on the handle and gripped the gun tighter with his other hand. He pushed it open slowly.

And he saw you. You were sitting on the floor, tied up, with a busted lip, disheveled hair and all dirty. Your eyes were full of pain, but at the same time - unconquerable.

He met your gaze. And his heart went into overdrive. He was instantly at your side. He knelt down and grabbed your face. 

"My love." - He whispered, looking into your eyes, which seemed unable to believe that Jungkook was real. They filled with tears and you finally cried. 

"Jungkook..." - You said, your voice breaking. Jungkook wrapped you in his arms. He kissed the top of your head, wanting to feel that you were real. That he had finally found you. He thought he'd go crazy if he didn't find you. 

"Did he hurt you? Are you in any pain? Did he injure you?" - Jungkook asked question after question, looking into your tired eyes, filled with tears that flowed like a stream. 

You did not answer. You just closed your eyes and sobbed, clinging to Jungkook as if you were afraid he would disappear. His heart clenched with pain. He ran his palm through your dirty, tousled locks, angrily noticing the bruises on your wrists from the ropes.

"It's okay, my love. I'm here... I'm here..." - His voice was low, warm, cautious, like a gentle whisper in the dark.

Jungkook pulled a knife from his belt, holstering his gun before he went, and quickly cut the ropes that had cut into your skin. Your arms fell down and you shuddered as the blood started to circulate again. He immediately grabbed your palms, pressed them to his lips, and lightly kissed the red marks of the bindings.

"I'm going to kill him..." - Jungkook exhaled, his voice filled with icy hatred. He wanted to get up, go, and destroy Doohoon right now. "I will destroy him. Is the baby okay?" - Jungkook asks. You just nod, still sobbing. He kisses you on the forehead and you feel how warm his lips are. Jungkook looked around. 

"Where is that bastard?" - He asked you again. 

"I... I don't know... he went out." - You say quietly. 

"I have to find him..." - Jungkook says, pulling his phone out of his wet jacket. He types a message to Taehyung that he found you and that you are on the top floor. Jungkook tried to get up, but you clung to him with weak fingers, as if begging him to stay.

"Don't go..." - Your voice broke, and your eyes burned, as if you were afraid to be alone with the nightmare again.

Jungkook froze. He couldn't leave you. Not now.

He gently picked you up, wrapping you in his jacket to keep you warm. You didn't resist, just buried your face in his neck.

"It's over. I'm taking you away from here." - Jungkook whispered, but his eyes burned with cold revenge. He turned to the door.

And then... Loud footsteps.

It was Doohoon.

Jungkook turned around, and his gaze, which had just been full of tenderness, turned into a pitiless darkness.

He pulled you to your feet and stood by the window. He noticed the gun. Doohoon had left it right on the windowsill. He grabbed it and loaded it. He put it in your hands and said. 

"If something goes wrong, shoot." - You looked at him frightened. 

"I'm not going to kill him." - You whispered, shaking your head. Jungkook grabbed your face and drew closer. 

"Don't kill him. Just shoot to the side to distract him." - You didn't have time to say no. The door opened and you and Jungkook saw Doohoon who come in. 

Doohoon froze in the doorway. His eyes were full of hatred. But he was smiling evilly. Doohoon slowly stepped inside, his gait relaxed, but his eyes betrayed tension. He looked from Jungkook to you, and his smile grew even wider.

"Of course you're here. I admit I was expecting you much later. You're the best at what you do, as usually, aren't you?" - Doohoon asked. Jungkook raised his eyebrows and pressed his body closer to you, protecting you with his body. 

"And you're using dirty methods as usually, bastard. I'm going to kill you for stealing her." - Jungkook said, his voice sharper than a knife. Doohoon burst out laughing. Jungkook just watched, and you shivered from the cold behind him. He knew Taehyung was coming because he had sent him a text. His sudden appearance would be to his advantage. 

"I took what should have been mine from the beginning. She was supposed to be mine, but you're a greedy scumbag who decided that your best friend is just your property. You even managed to knock her up." - Doohoon says. Jungkook clenches his fists and prepares to just shoot Doohoon in the head. But he can't do it in front of you. It would be too traumatic an experience for you, and it could affect your pregnancy. 

"I will just blow out all your brains and they will decorate the walls here." - Jungkook says. 

"No, man. Let's have a real fight between us. For her. The one who wins will take her for himself. But let's not use weapons, because it's not interesting. Let's fight for her with our own strength." - Jungkook suddenly laughed. Doohoon tensed up and the smile disappeared from his face instantly. 

"You're dumbass. You still don't understand that she's not a thing that can be taken anyone’s of us. She is my woman. Mine! And she will never be yours, and no amount of fighting will make her yours." - Jungkook said, pronouncing each word angrily. Jungkook took a step forward, and his voice, though quiet, was bone-chilling.

"Do you know what your problem is, Doohoon?" - He looked directly into his enemy's eyes, and his gaze burned with anger mixed with contempt. "For as long as I've known you, you've been trying to be better than me, from getting a place in the Taekwondo school to the Y/N. But the truth is, you just wanted to be me. But you failed. You failed every time. And you know why? Because you're a nobody. You're a miserable prat who's spent your whole life envying and copying me." - Jungkook said. Doohoon clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowed, and his hands shook with pent-up anger.

"Shut up..." - He wheezed, but Jungkook just smiled in defiance.

"You can run after me all your life, copy my movements, my habits, but you will never be me. You're a crazy lunatic who thinks you can steal everything-even someone else's life." - Jungkook stopped a few steps away from Dohun, ready for anything. Doohoon took a sharp breath, his hands clenched into fists, and his eyes darkened with rage.

"You think I was copying you? No. Your arrogance is so great that you think you are the navel of the earth. You talked only about yourself, thought only about yourself. You never even considered me as a friend, and I was just your shadow. When I began to like Y/N and I admitted it to you, you became a psycho, obsessed with taking her away from me. And you were only lucky in that she unfortunately liked you. I could have had a good chance to be her boyfriend, but you did everything to make her give herself to you, an insatiable bastard who didn't mind any hole, and you took her virginity as a reward." - Doohoon said. Jungkook stood still for a moment. He was seething with anger. His dark eyes flashed dangerously, and something invisible and heavy seemed to have thickened in the air. Any more and Jungkook would turn his face into a mess. 

He was looking at Doohoon as if he was assessing his every bone and muscle, as if he was deciding whether he should spend another second with him. You looked nervously at Doohoon's face, which was saturated with hatred and rage. 

"Oh, so now you're a victim?" - Jungkook tilted his head to the side, his voice sounding poisonously calm. "Poor Doohoon, always in the shadow of me. I'm surprised you haven't realized it's not about me. It's about you."  - Doohoon gritted his teeth, his fingers clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white. "You called yourself my friend, you hurt me, then you apologized, and then you wanted me to fail again. So what kind of friendship are we talking about when you've always considered me your competitor? You used to think of yourself as some kind of special victim. As if I took away all your opportunities, as if I deliberately destroyed your chances. But, Doohoon, you never had a chance. You're too weak. Not because you're physically inferior to me, but because you have nothing inside you." - Jungkook took another step forward, forcing Doohoon to back away. 

"You don't know how to build your own life. You were just looking for someone to lean on, someone to blame. First it was your father, then me, now Y/N. But you know what's funny? Even now you don't realize that you lost not because of me, but because of yourself." - Jungkook did not stop. Doohoon was breathing heavily, his face red with anger. 

"You didn't even see me until I became your opponent! And now you're standing there preaching to me?" - Doohoon was trembling with hatred. 

"No, Doohoon." - Jungkook narrowed his eyes coldly. "I've seen you. I've seen you become more and more pathetic, sinking to the very bottom because you couldn't bear the thought of someone better than you. I saw your failed attempts to become me. And you know what? I even felt sorry for you. But now..." - Jungkook was silent for a moment. "Now I don't even feel sorry for you anymore." - Jungkook said in a tone of utter contempt. Doohoon clenched his fists, and at that moment his patience broke. He lunged forward, swinging at Jungkook with all his might, but he dodged.

At the last moment, he grabbed Doohoon's arm and twisted it back sharply, making his opponent cry out in pain. Jungkook held him, and he twisted and writhed in pain. You stared at it all in fright, not knowing what to do. You instinctively clenched your fingers around the cold metal of the gun in your hand. 

"Are you angry now because I'm telling the truth? Because you lost again?" - Jungkook held Doohoon tightly. "You know what I'm most grateful for? That you and your father set me up. For trying to destroy me. But thanks to you, I got real friends, not problems. Those you have never had and will never have. I know what real support is. And you? You are left with nothing." - Jungkook continued to press on Doohoon’s arm, but the latter, gritting his teeth, jerked forward with all his might, pulling his limb out of his grip. 

He turned sharply and threw a swinging punch Jungkook barely managed to dodge it, but he took the next blow to the stomach completely. He gritted his teeth, feeling the pain spreading through his body, but he didn't stop. An elbow to the jaw forced Doohoon to retreat, and Jungkook took advantage of this to apply a takedown and throw him to the ground.

The air was filled with heavy breathing and dull sounds of blows. They fought like beasts-without rules, without pity. Doohoon rushed forward again, trying to grab Jungkook by the throat, but he intercepted his arm and punched him sharply in the chest. Doohoon grunted, but he didn't give up-he swung his leg, and this time Jungkook didn't have time to dodge. He flew backwards, falling to the concrete floor.

You instinctively clenched the gun in your hands even harder, so that your fingers turned white. Your breath came out in ragged gulps, and your heart was beating so hard it was echoing in your temples. They were fighting in earnest, and even though Jungkook was strong, Doohoon was not giving in. You didn't know what to do until you suddenly saw Doohoon pushing Jungkook into the wall, his arms tightly closed around his opponent's neck.

"Stop it!" - You shouted, running over to them. You wanted to save Jungkook. He couldn't lose. He was not supposed to lose.

You ran over and grabbed Doohoon’s arm, trying to pull him away from Jungkook. But he turned around and pushed you away so hard that you couldn't stay on your feet. Your heavy body flew backwards uncontrollably, and you felt a sharp pain in your head as you hit the metal frame. The world around you shook, your eyes blurred, and hot blood ran down your temple.

Doohoon punched Jungkook in the face, then in the solar plexus. He fell to the floor. Doohoon exhaled all the pent-up anger and walked over to you, his eyes flashing with hatred.

"You're a fool! You're protecting him. You always do. I will kill your lover today, and then maybe you. Because I'm not sure if I'll want you after all this." - Doohoon said, towering over you. 

Jungkook, who was still lying on the floor, heard these words. He heard you moan softly in pain. Everything around you seemed to blur, and only one thing flashed through my mind-he must never touch you again. Never again.

He stood up again, gritting his teeth in rage and pain, and lunged at Doohoon with renewed vigor. Doohoon fought back, and Jungkook advanced more and more actively. They were determined not to give in to each other. The lead was constantly changing. At first, Jungkook was the one who was attacking, but as soon as he has a little distract, he became the one who needed to defend. He had to finish off Doohoon quickly so he could get to you and check if you were okay. 

Their fight moved from the room where you were sitting to the stairs. They were exchanging brutal blows-each of them dead tired, both drenched in sweat and blood-but neither stopped.

"Jungkook!" - Another voice called out. It was Taehyung. His eyes quickly ran over the scene in front of him, the bloody Jungkook, and Doohoon, who was equally wounded. Taehyung came running with a gun in hands. 

"Take her away!" - Shouted Jungkook, not stopping his attack on Doohoon. "She's in the room! Get her out of here!" - Taehyung immediately rushed over to you. 

While Taehyung tried to help you, Jungkook continued to fight. But the sleepless night searching for you was taking its toll. Jungkook was at the limit of his physical capabilities. He hadn't slept for a day, he was mentally exhausted because he had to defend himself to Namjoon, had a fight with you, and then found out that you had been kidnapped. His body ached, his fists ached from the blows, but he held on. 

At some point, his fingers touched the cold metal on his belt. His gun. It could have been the end. Jungkook snatched it from its holster. But Doohoon saw it coming. At the same moment, he kicked him in the arm, and the weapon flew out of Jungkook's fingers, clattering to the floor.

"No weapons, remember?" - Doohoon smiled wryly and swung again. Jungkook fought well, but this time Doohoon didn't give him a chance. A powerful punch to the stomach made him curl up, another to the face knocked him back. He hit the railing of the stairs and wheezed heavily.

Doohoon, breathing heavily, lifted Jungkook by his hair and forced him to look him in the eye.

"Now which one of us is pathetic? You noticed I'm well prepared. I'm going to throw you down and you're going to kiss the floor and fall into an eternal sleep. And Y/N will now be mine and I will do whatever I want with her. I win, Jeon Jungkook." - He whispered the last sentence into his ear. 

Doohoon pulled his hand back, about to throw him down. Jungkook saw him preparing for the last move. But at that very moment, when Doohoon leaned forward to push harder, Jungkook elbowed him sharply in the ribs. It was unexpected, and Doohoon automatically loosened his grip.

Jungkook didn't hesitate. He used this moment to bend down, twist out of his grip, and push him with his whole body.

Doohoon didn't have time to get his bearings. He tried to grab the railing, but missed. Terror appeared in his eyes as he realized he was falling. His body flipped uncontrollably in the air, and the next moment he disappeared over the edge of the stairs.

Jungkook was breathing heavily as he stood over the precipice. He spat blood and looked down. Doohoon will never move again. 

The majestic house, located in a prestigious area of the capital, looked luxurious even among other mansions. Its architecture combined modern minimalism and elegant classics: tall windows with black frames, a light facade made of natural stone, a wide terrace overlooking the garden, where well-kept trees cast soft shadows on the marble paths. Inside, there was a spacious lobby, a shiny Italian marble floor, and a crystal chandelier that reflected soft light throughout the room. Although the house looked expensive and minimalism, it had a cozy feel. 

You stood by the window in the nursery, holding the phone to your ear. The baby was sleeping sweetly in his crib, immersed in a world of dreams, and you were staring at the Seoul night skyline, listening to the voice on the other end of the line.

"Yes, I'll check how this happened and get report to Namjoon."  - You said confidently but quietly, patting the baby on the back. "No, he shouldn't know about this before time. All the details have to be confirmed first." - You explained as you left the nursery. Your tone was even, cold, professional. Once upon a time, you hadn't even imagined saying these things, but life had changed you, and now you confidently took your place next to Jungkook.

You remember the day that changed you and your life in detail, because it was a nightmare. Meeting Ji Sung, then going to Mono Corp and meeting Namjoon, fighting with Jungkook, and being kidnapped by Doohoon. Doohoon kidnapped you and held you captive, but Jungkook found you. And when he came to rescue you at an abandoned aluminum factory, he and Doohoon got into a fight and Doohoon died after falling from a height. 

You will never forget his body, a strangely shaped body lying on the ground, surrounded by a pool of blood. 

You hated Doohoon. You hated every moment of his captivity. In some moments you even wanted him dead. But when it yet... it became a difficult experience for you. His dead body repeatedly came to you in your dreams. His eyes, full of horror, haunted you at night, forcing you to wake up in the silence with sticky sweat on your skin. But you never told Jungkook about it. Fortunately, though, after going through a lot of stress and traumatic experiences, you were able to keep your pregnancy alive. 

You remember coming to the defense of your thesis with a big belly, which you had been working on diligently throughout your pregnancy. For you, this work became an escape from reality, because as soon as you immersed yourself in it, you forgot about all the horror you had experienced. 

You and Jungkook confessed your expectancy to your parents when you were about two months pregnant. They were happy and as Jungkook said earlier, they immediately started planning the wedding. So after another two months you became Jungkook's wife.

When you first heard Jungkook call you his wife in front of someone else, your heart skipped a beat. And then it filled with warmth. You were used to him belonging to you as much as you belonged to him, but hearing it out loud was special. 

And then you gave birth. You gave birth to a boy. Yongsu . It was the name Jungkook chose for him, and it meant pure and long-lasting. You let your husband choose the name. After giving birth, you were mostly at home with your child. Jungkook bought a house in Hannam-dong, and you moved there after the wedding. 

You remember how you started working for the Ran Noir clan and how you changed after the kidnapping. Jungkook told you that Namjoon had forgiven him for his debt. You were happy to hear that, but Jungkook also told you that he didn't want to leave the mafia world. You were against it at first and you had some serious fights, but eventually you accepted Jungkook's position.

One night you were lying there thinking about everything you had been through and what had happened to Jungkook. You realized that you had been captured by Doohoon because of your weakness. If you had been more determined and tougher with him, he would have let you go much sooner and maybe he would be alive now. 

You knew everyone from Ran Noir, thanks to Jungkook, and you saw that they are not ruthless monsters. They are people who have a code and are engaged in a business that just has somewhat undiplomatic methods. But they are power, authority, control, and you were attracted to that.

You made a decision that you have no right to force Jungkook to choose between you and the clan, as you did before. You decided to become a person who would always be on Jungkook's side, no matter what side it was - black or white. After all, you would love this man forever and know that if he was by your side, you would be happiest. 

So very soon after you told Jungkook your opinion and that you were okay with it, he was happy and grateful.

Jimin and Taehyung asked you for help several times. You did a great job of helping them.  Jungkook was against it at first, he wanted you to stay away from the world if mafia. But you couldn't, because you wanted to gain strength and control over your own fears, and working for such a strong clan helped you do that. 

When Yoongi asked you for help, you were shocked and of course you didn't mind. Very soon after, Namjoon offered you the position of an analyst. That is, a person who would develop negotiation strategies, analyze information about competitors and enemies. You were supposed to be a tool in finding weaknesses in the businesses, schemes, and plans of the enemy. Not exactly your profession as a journalist, but you used your undercover journalism. 

You never thought that your life would turn out this way. That one day you, a man who once feared even the shadow of the mafia world, would become a part of it. But you also never imagined that you would love the man who belonged to that world so much that you would choose to stay by his side anyway.

Jungkook didn't immediately accept your decision. He spent a long time convincing you that you had no place in this. He thought you were doing it out of stubbornness, out of a desire to prove something to him.

Over time, Jungkook began to accept that you were now a part of this world. Moreover, you became a valuable asset to the clan. Namjoon personally recognized your analytical work, and Yoongi even joked that you could have been his right-hand man if you weren't Jungkook's wife.

You and he became a real team. Working together, you complemented each other: he was a man of action, and you were a mind that built strategies. When he was on his way to a meeting, you already knew what his opponent would say. When he was planning an operation, you would break it down into details and find the enemy's weaknesses.

You were no longer afraid. And when you first heard from Namjoon that your name was being spoken with respect in mafia circles, you just smiled.

Jungkook saw how you changed. He no longer tried to stop you. Because you were by his side not as someone to be protected, but as his equal.

"I never thought I would see you like this one day." - He said one evening when you were sitting in the office discussing a new assignment.

"Do you regret it?" - You asked then. 

"On the contrary." - He smiled at you. "I'm proud. My mafia queen." 

You closed the door of the children's room and met a 45-year-old woman. The maid standing by the door bowed silently.

"I need to go to Jungkook, please look after Yongsu." - You said, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

The woman just nodded, and you lightly touched the cold metal of the wedding ring on your finger and went to Jungkook's office.

The second floor greeted you with dim lighting and the scent of expensive wood. You walked down a long corridor, stopped in front of a heavy dark walnut door, and knocked lightly.

"Come in." - You heard a familiar voice. Jungkook was sitting at a large desk, deep in papers and monitor screens. His jacket was casually thrown over his chair, the sleeves of his white shirt rolled up, and his dark hair slightly disheveled, as he had been working nonstop for hours. He came back from the company around 9 p.m. and has been sitting here ever since. 

You walked closer, holding your tablet, leaning on the edge of the table and looking at your husband.

"We have a problem." - You began, crossing your arms over your chest. Jungkook finally tore his eyes away from the monitor and raised an eyebrow, assessing you.

"Problem?" - He leaned back, scrutinizing your features.

"Yes, and a pretty serious one at that." - You ran your fingers across the table, leaning a little closer. "I think you should take a look at this." - You handed him the tablet, but Jungkook didn't even move. His eyes lingered on your face, sliding down the thin fabric of your shirt, your posture. "Jungkook!" - You called out to him, as if to scold him for looking at you with devouring eyes. But Jungkook just hummed and grabbed you by the waist, forcing you to sit on his lap.

"Problems can wait." - He whispered, breathing in the scent of your skin. You rolled your eyes but didn't resist. You ran your fingers down his forearm, feeling the tension of the muscles beneath the thin fabric of his shirt.

"You're just looking for an excuse not to work..." - You murmured. You put the tablet somewhere on the table so you don't accidentally drop it and running your nails along his neck. Jungkook smiled, his fingers slowly sliding down your back before pulling you confidently closer.

"When you're around me, I don't think about anything else." - He declares. His voice became deeper and his eyes darkened with desire. He leaned in, his lips touching your neck, leaving a slight heat on your skin. You felt your breathing become heavier, but you still tried to maintain control.

"Jungkook, we... have... work to do..." - You barely managed to say, fighting the sensation of his lips on your neck. 

"It can wait." - He murmured, nibbling on your ear. His hands slid lower, his fingers finding the gentle curve of your hips. He knew you wouldn't resist for long.

"We really won't get anything done if you..." - But your voice trailed off as he abruptly pulled you even tighter against him.

"I don't see the problem." - His hot whisper made you shiver. You were about to say something else, but then he kissed you - deeply, greedily, as if he wanted to take all your strength with that kiss. And at that moment, all your arguments evaporated. Jungkook always knew how to make you forget about everything in the world.

His lips slowly made their way down your neck, leaving hot trails as he pulled away from your sweet lips. You closed your eyes, feeling your heart speed up. You'd always thought you'd learned to control your reactions, but with Jungkook, it was impossible. 

"You're just taking advantage of the fact that I can't say no to you." - You whispered, but your voice didn't sound like a real reproach. Jungkook lifted his head, his lips touched your cheekbone, and then slowly rose to your ear.

"Can you?" - He playfully bit your earlobe, causing you to take a slight shaky breath.

"Uh... Theoretically..." - You pressed your lips together, trying to hide your smile. Jungkook snorted, his hands sliding confidently down your back and then stopping at your buttocks, squeezing them.

"And practically?" - He asked again. You opened your eyes and looked down at him, your eyes sparkling with a sly smile.

"Practically..." - You leaned in closer, deliberately touching his lips slowly. "I think you have to convince me." - Jungkook laughed hoarsely. You admired your husband mesmerized. 

"Oh, baby, you have no idea what you're asking for." - Jungkook purred. His hands tightened on your buttocks, and the next moment he stood up from the chair, lifting you up with him. You screamed, instinctively wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Jungkook!" - You squeaked. 

"What? I'm just going to convince you." - He laughed as he watched your cheeks flush. You tried to get to your feet, but he didn't let you. His hands slid down your hips, and then he lowered you onto the desk, pushing the documents to the sides. Your skirt was pulled up in one motion so that you could open your legs wider for Jungkook. 

"You know I'm going to drop everything again." - You reminded him with a sly smile, lightly running your fingers through his hair.

"Let's be honest, you do it on purpose." - His fingers slowly penetrated your shirt.

 "Maybe." - You smiled slyly. Jungkook leaned closer, his breath mingling with yours. 

"Admit it, you like to provoke me." - He insisted. You slid your arms around his shoulders, enjoying the strength that lurked beneath his clothes.

"If I didn't like it, would I be your wife?" - You asked rhetorically. His eyes flashed.

"I knew that, but I had to make sure. If you like provocation so much, you should know how it will end." - He said into your lips. Your laughter dissolved on his lips as he grabbed the back of your head and deepened the kiss, stripping you of your last vestiges of resistance. His tongue filled your mouth with possessiveness and you were ready to obey him. 

His lips moved down, hot and relentless, leaving traces of his claim on every millimeter of your skin. You felt shivers run down your spine as his fingers slowly touched your thigh as if to tease you, and then gently moved upward. He began to undress you. He wanted to tear the shirt that fit you perfectly, but he knew you would protest and scold him for ruining another thing.

It didn't take long for Jungkook to get you naked. Wasting no time after he removed the your shirt, he immediately freed your breasts from the lace bra. Your nipples immediately hardened, and you don't know if it was from the cold or from excitement. It seems both theories are correct. Jungkook leaned over to your nipple and took it into his mouth. He sucked on it pleasantly, making you want to do it more. 

"Kook..." - Your voice was soft, almost pleading.

"What, baby?" - His low voice sounded close to your flesh, and his warm breath caused a pleasant shiver somewhere in the innermost corners of your mind. You pressed harder against his crotch, your fingers tightening their grip on the fabric of his shirt.

"Let's make this quick, we still have work to do." - Your lips stretched into a sly smile, even though you knew you'd forgotten all about any business. Jungkook looked up, his dark eyes glowing with dangerous confidence.

"No, there will be no quick. Besides, I'm already working." - His hands squeezed your buttocks confidently. "I'm just focused on the most important task at hand." - You could barely contain your laughter.

"So what are you working?" - You asked through a big smile. 

"To make sure my wife never thinks about running away again when I take her." - He said with a cocky smile on his lips. His words made your heart skip a beat, and before you could respond, Jungkook grabbed your hips and pulled you sharply even closer, forcing your pussy into his semi-hard cock. You clenched your legs around his crotch to calm the throbbing between your legs. "You know what drives me crazy the most?" - He leaned in, forcing you to tilt your head back as his lips were at your neck again.

"What?" - You barely managed to get the word out when his breath burned your skin.

"That even after all these years, you still know how to make me forget everything and want you as insatiably as the first time." - Jungkook confessed. You felt a butterfly in your stomach. It had been a long time since he had made you feel that way. His lips captured yours again, this time deeper, more passionately, while his arms held you tightly, not giving you a chance to pull away. But you didn't want to, either.

His tongue was intertwined with yours. The desire to have Jungkook inside you grew stronger. He broke the kiss, finally running his tongue over your plump lower lip. 

Jungkook pulled your skirt up to your stomach and tugged your lace thong down, pushing you to the edge of the table. He knelt down on his knees. He touched your aroused center with his finger, causing you to shudder slightly. A soft moan escaped your lips. 

Jungkook massaged your clit, greedily enjoying the sight of your wet pussy. He kissed it, lightly sucking on your center. You clutched his hair with your fingers, not controlling your movements. Your legs trembled a little, but when Jungkook grabbed them in a vice grip, you relaxed. Your husband drew a long strip his tongue across your velvet folds and then looked up at you. 

"You're flowing on my tongue, baby. You so badly want me to eat you?" - You opened your eyes, which had been closed in pleasure. Your gaze was clouded with lust and desire, at the same time. His black eyes, which looked like toy eyes, had nothing to do with them. Although they looked innocent, they looked into your very soul. 

"Please, Kook, don't talk, just do." - You begged. Jungkook slapped you, lightly, but you still screamed, clenching your fingers on his shoulders. 

"Wrong answer, love." - He said, smiling at the corner of his lips. You breathed heavily. And then you smiled back. 

"Oh honey, I can't wait for you to eat me and then fuck me so I forget the world exists." - You said seductively, and Jungkook liked that answer. He squeezed your thighs harder, digging his nails into the soft flesh, and finally got down to business. 

He touched his lips to the inside of your thighs. His lips were hot and it caused a wave of uncontrollable goosebumps. He kissed you between your thighs, slowly getting closer to your pussy as if he was mocking you. You were literally dripping onto the table. Suddenly he bit you, it didn't hurt, but you felt a slight tingling sensation. 

You bit your lip to keep from screaming. Jungkook left in a hurry, and you wanted to tell him to do what he had to do, but you didn't say anything. Otherwise he would punish you again, even though you always had fun doing it. But it was as if he was deliberately not touching where he should have, and you grew more and more impatient. 

Jungkook approached slowly, and when his lips finally came to your pussy, you rejoiced. As he sucked on your center, you moaned louder and louder. He let go of your clit and then began to play with it with his tongue, caressing it in a circular motion. You put your hands on the table, sliding your nails over the lacquered surface. You arched your back, leaned on your arms, threw your head back, and completely surrendered to the pleasure Jungkook had so skillfully created. 

You come on his tongue with a loud moan full of pleasure. Jungkook feels your clit twitching. He lingers his tongue on your folds until you stop shuddering. He stands up, wiping his chin of your juices. Your eyes are blurry, but you smile happily. 

You breathed heavily, trying to somehow regain control of your body, which was still trembling from the pleasure you had experienced. Jungkook looked at you with a smug smile, knowing that he had once again brought you to a state where you could not say a word. Jungkook ran his finger over your slightly swollen lip, humming with satisfaction.

"What, my love?" - His voice was low and measured, but his eyes were burning with hunger. "Can't you get a word out?" - You inhaled heavily, barely forcing yourself to focus on him.

"You... you almost destroyed me..." - You whispered, making him laugh briefly. You raised your hand, gently sliding your fingers down his chest. 

Jungkook leaned closer, making you feel his hot breath on your skin. His fingers, so confident and strong, ran down your neck, leaving you with light goosebumps once again.

"Almost?" - He raised an eyebrow, as if considering your words. "Does that mean I haven't done my job yet?"

His lips touched your neck, leaving a hot trail there. You felt desire flare up inside you again, and your body treacherously pressed closer to him. He leaned his hands on the table, and you were very close. Your pussy throbbed again when he pressed his hard cock against you, which was tight in his pants. 

"Kook..." - Your voice was quiet, barely audible, but he knew exactly what you were trying to say.

"Don't worry, baby..." - He raised his head, his eyes shining with dark passion. "I won't stop until I've destroyed you completely."

"Then why are you still dressed?" - You said, your eyes full of lust. He hummed, cocky and short. 

"Oh, I'm in no hurry..." - He grabbed your buttocks and literally pressed you into him against you, making you feel how ready he was. "I want you to beg for it." -You broke into a playful smile, running your tongue over your lower lip.

"And what will my begging get you?" - You asked out of curiosity. But you wanted him to fuck you already, because you thought begging Jungkook to do it might be one of your favorite things to do.

"That depends on how good you are at it." - His lips pressed against your ear, his voice almost a whisper. "Because I intend to take you apart tonight." - Your heart skipped a beat. You felt yourself burning again from the intimacy between you. Between the passion that is still there. You looked down at his crotch and then pushed him away slightly. Jungkook raised his eyebrows, not realizing what you did.

"Do I really need to beg you?" - You protested slightly. Jungkook's eyes darkened and he smiled predatory. He wanted to take a step toward you, but you stopped him by resting your foot on his abs. Jungkook looked away in surprise. He stared at you, and you only smiled wider.

"Don’t come any closer." - You said playfully. Jungkook was breathing heavily. And his cock twitched in his pants when he heard your hot tone. Fuck, when you forbid him, he gets horny to the max.

He grabbed your ankle, squeezed it with his fingers, but you pressed your fingertips against his abs, adding strength. 

"Maybe I should make you beg? Do you want to? Can may I make you beg so you can fuck my pussy?" - You asked seductively. Jungkook gave a low laugh. You're so bold today. He swears you'll drive him crazy. He could have told you no, taken you and punished you for disobeying him. Usually Jungkook dominates your sex, but not tonight. You also want to show him that you have power over him.

Jungkook runs his tongue along the inside of own cheek, greedily looking at your face, which is seductive and beautiful. He lowers his eyes to your naked breasts, which attract him, then his gaze slides lower, wanting to see his favorite pussy, but your raised leg does not allow him to see it. You look so damn sexy and he already wants to fuck you, but he wonders how you'll make him beg.

Jungkook takes a step back, releasing your leg. He sighs heavily, running a hand through his hair. His dark eyes glittered with hunger, and the piercing on his lip disappeared between his teeth, a habit that always drove you crazy.

"You really think you can do this, baby?" - His voice sounded dangerously low, but you just stretched your lips into an even wider smile.

"Think?" - You tilted your head, looking at him seductively from under your lashes. "No, Kook. I know I'm going to do it."

His jaw tensed, and you knew he was on the verge. But instead of lunging at you, he took another step back. 

"Okay. Make me beg." - He said with a tone of mockery. But you knew that there was no way he would be able to resist you, and you didn't understand why he was laughing at it either. You stopped smiling and became serious. You put your foot down and said. 

"Sit in the chair." - You ordered. Jungkook did not resist. He sat down in the chair, holding the armrests. He spread his legs wide, because his aroused cock was painfully resting against the in tight boxers. Jungkook leaned back, watching your movements lazily. 

You climbed off the table and slowly pulled off your skirt, completely freeing yourself from your clothes. You kept your eyes on Jungkook, who was watching you closely, though he tried to pass off a disinterested look. 

You turned your back on him and bent slightly, dropping the papers to the floor, and moved his laptop and your tablet, leaving it dangerously near the edge of the table. 

You turned around, seeing that he had just taken his eyes off your bare buttocks and pussy. You smile. 

"You haven't had the urge to ask me to take your needy cock yet?" - You asked as you sat down on the table. Jungkook laughed, and you could hear his voice growing heavy with excitement. He definitely wanted to, but he couldn't give up on you so quickly, you hadn't done much of anything.

"Your naked body attracts me as usual, but do I have to beg you for it? I could sit here forever and just looking at you." - He said. You bit your lip. You knew he wouldn't give in so quickly. Although he could easily end this game. 

"Okay, love , what would you say if I touched myself..." - You spread your legs, giving him a great view of your wet pussy. You touched your clit with one hand and squeezed your breasts with the other. "Can you watch this forever, too? Or until I cum from my own fingers and just leave?" - You asked. Jungkook's breathing quickened. He gripped the armrests. His cock was throbbing and he was going crazy at the sight of you naked, sitting on his desk, touching yourself.

You were literally masturbating in front of him and he realized that he really couldn't hold back for long. He wanted to be the one who touches you. He wanted his fingers to be instead of yours. You threw your head back, moaned, and he was ready to rush at you. But when you wanted to check if he was still holding on, you noticed that he was almost on the verge. 

"Want to continue instead of me?" - You asked, licking the finger you had been caressing yourself with. And then you slowly licked your lips, as if to lick off the remains. 

Jungkook stood up abruptly, but you didn't move. He walked over slowly. You left your head slightly to keep eye contact with him. 

Jungkook stopped just a few centimeters away from you. His gaze was dark, piercing, and his jaw was tense with pent-up desire. He ran his tongue over his dry lips, as if he had already savored what he was about to do.

"So this is what you act?" - His voice was husky, and it sent hot shivers down your spine. You burned with the desire for his cock to fill you to the brim. But you just smiled slyly, not looking away.

Jungkook leaned down, his hands resting on the table on either side of you, trapping you completely. His breath was scorching, and you felt the tip of his nose gently touch your neck, sliding it along your tender skin.

"So I have to beg because of that?" - He whispered against your ear, his voice deep and teasing. You laughed, putting your hand on his chest.

"Yes... You can't let me satisfy myself on my own, right? But if you want me to want to take your cock, I want you to beg me." - You slid your fingers down his stomach, all the way to the waistband of his pants, where his cock was sticking out tensely. "And I think you're getting hard, Kook."

He laughed hoarsely, but you could see that his patience was running out.

"Please, touch me." - He suddenly wheezed, squeezing your thigh. His voice was so low that you felt as if it was penetrating your skin, making you melt even more under his touch. You smiled. God, that's a turn-on. It turns out nice when it is to be begged for. 

You undid the button on his pants, pulling them down quickly. You pulled his black Calvin Klein boxers down just as quickly, freeing his hard, aroused cock. You grabbed it with your hands and rolled it a few times. Semen dripped from his tip. 

"Hey, Jeon. Can't I see you trickle, wanting to fuck my pussy?" - You purred, masturbating him. Jungkook brought his face closer to yours, breathing heavily. 

"You're so bold today, baby. I like your power. But I'll be the one to fuck you, not you." - He said. He didn't let you answer. His lips came over yours in power. His tongue filled your mouth, immediately finding yours, intertwining them in giving a fierce passion to your kiss. Jungkook caught your tongue, which was always trying to escape his pressure, and sucked it. He broke away from you when you both needed air. 

You continued to pump him. Your thumb touched his sensitive glans several times, and your other hand caressed his balls. 

"You haven't begged me to fuck you yet, just to touch you, I can finish my hands work and go to bed." - You said with a smile. Jungkook, who was enjoying your hands, held his breath. Your hands almost made him want to come, but he liked to do it inside you the most. He stopped your hands, and you looked innocently into his eyes. 

"Give me your pussy." - He said, pulling you off the table. You rested your hands on his chest, not letting him turn you around. 

"Beg." - Yours sang. Jungkook was going crazy. His eyes flashed with a dangerous glint, and his hands tightened on your hips. You knew he was about to snap, that any more and he'd just forget about your game and do it his way.

"Baby..." - His voice was low, slightly trembling with tension. He leaned down to your ear, touching his lips to your hot skin. "Please... give me your pussy. Let me sink into you, feel how hot and wet you are for me." - His words, his whisper, his heavy breathing made you tremble. His tongue slid along your neck, his hands went to your waist, and then down to your hips again.

You smiled, stretching out the moment, wanting to hear more.

"More..." - You whispered, running your fingernail along his chin. Jungkook growled, almost tearing forward, but he held on.

"Please..." - He whispered again, his lips leaving hot marks on your skin. His fingers touched your throbbing pussy again, and he ran them gently along it, making you hold your breath. "I want you, baby... I want to be deep inside you..."

You gave up. His words and touch burned you from the inside out, making you need even more. But you were still in control.

"Then take me, Jeon..." - You finally whispered, driving him crazy with those words.

Jungkook couldn't hold back any longer. He grabbed you by the waist and turned you around, bending down and pinning you to the table. His fingers slipped between your legs to make sure you were ready for him.

"So wet... just for me." - His voice sounded like he could already feel you from the inside. He spread your legs wider, his heavy breathing close to your ear. "Ready?" - He pressed his cock against you, making you arch with desire. His hot breath burned your skin, his hands held your hips tightly, making you relax under his touch. "I'm going to take you, baby..."  - He whispered, sliding his cock between your wet folds, but not yet entering. "I have to admit you made me beg, but have you forgotten how this all started? You have to respond for your provocations... I'll make you scream my name." - Just like that, you easily lost your power over them as soon as you allowed yourself to be fucked. You almost moaned at the words. Your body was already aching with desire, you were literally flowing for him, feeling him tease you without giving you what you craved the most.

"Jungkook..." - You groaned, pushing your hips back, hoping he would enter. But he just laughed in satisfaction, grabbed your hair, and gently pulled your head back, forcing you to look at him over your shoulder.

"Hah? You're started begging me, baby, and I didn't even force you." - He said in a low voice, through heavy breathing. You bite your lip, not wanting to answer, but he pushed forward a little harder, his head penetrating you just enough to make your body shiver with anticipation.

"Please..." - You finally gave in, feeling everything inside you clench with anticipation.

"I'm ready to listen to this forever." - His voice was victorious, satisfied. And finally... He entered you with one deep thrust. You exhaled sharply, your back arched as he filled you completely. "Fuck... so tight... it stills so tight for me." - He groaned, pausing for a second to feel your walls clenching around him.

You trembled, resting your hands on the table as he began to move, slowly pulling himself out almost completely and then sinking deep again, making you squirm beneath him.

"Fuck... do you feel that, love?" - He dug his fingers into your hips, holding you in place as his strokes became faster, deeper.

"Yes... God, yes..." - You couldn't control your moans anymore, letting out everything you were feeling. Jungkook grabbed your waist, pulling you harder against him, and his next thrust made you scream.

"Oh, yes, scream for me..." - He growled, driving himself even harder into you. You couldn't think anymore. All that existed at that moment was him, his body, his cock filling you with every thrustz He was everywhere. He was your goddamn universe right now.

His hands held your waist tightly, helping you take each deep thrust. Jungkook moved fast, hard, taking you with the same passion he had begged for you with just moments before.

You clung to the edge of the table, feeling yourself getting closer to an explosion with each stroke. Suddenly, he turned you around, sat you on the edge of the table, and entered you again. You grabbed his shoulders, lightly scratching them with your nails. 

"Fuck, baby, you're still so tight..." - He moaned, bending down slightly to grab your breast and run his tongue over your hardened nipple. Your fingers found his hair, tugging at it, making him curse hoarsely.

"Jungkook... I..."

"Just a little more, baby..." - He lifted one of your legs, changing the angle so that each thrust hit right at your most sensitive spot. You screamed out in pleasure, your body trembling with the unreal pleasure that washed over you in a wave.

Jungkook couldn't take it anymore, a few more rough strokes and he moaned your name, spurting deep inside you. His cum spilled filling you up. Jungkook's arms clutched your waist as if he couldn't let go. You were both breathing heavily, enjoying this moment with your bodies still intertwined.

You tried to steady your breathing, trying to come back to reality. Your body was still trembling with the aftertaste of pleasure, but your mind began to clear a little. And then you remembered why you had come here in the first place. Jungkook was smiling lazily as he ran his fingers over your stomach.

"What's wrong, baby? Are you destroyed?" - He asked. You started to move to stand up. You didn't have the strength, but you had come to see Jungkook because you needed to talk to him about the problem you were having. 

"Absolutely." - You smiled tiredly. Jungkook stepped out of you and pulled on his boxers. "But now we really need to do some work." - Jungkook raised an eyebrow as he buttoned his pants. 

"Are you serious? I want to go take a shower and eat." - He complained. But you weren't so relaxed. There was a problem, and that's why you had come to your husband's office. You sighed as you put your feet down on the floor and started looking for your clothes.

You put on your panties, which were lying near the desk, and then quickly put on your skirt. You suddenly felt Jungkook's arms around you as you fumbled with the buttons on your shirt. Jungkook ran his hand down your thighs, lazily drawing invisible patterns on your skin. He kissed your neck. 

"Jungkook, this is important." - You said, turning to him. "Namjoon is waiting for the report, and I can't send it to him." 

Jungkook's gaze turned serious. He stopped his movements around your hips and raised his eyebrows. 

"What happened there?" - He asked tensely. You gingerly released yourself from his arms and went to pick up the tablet that was on the table. Jungkook sat down in his chair and waited for you. You walked over and turned the tablet toward him.

"What is this?" - He asked immediately. 

"Our accountant called me today. He dropped this off to me. These are the financial transactions of our company over the past month that were related to our project." - You explained, pointing to certain records. "As usual, I went through the statements and suddenly noticed that there were small but constant expenses for some intermediary company. At first they looked normal, but..." - You said as you peered in next to Jungkook. 

"But?" - He asked, turning his head to you. You zoomed in on one of the notes.

"She seemed strange to me. I checked out the company. It was founded only a few months ago. And there were no such expenses before. I don't know where it came from or who signed a contract with this company. I definitely didn't have any business with them, because I would have remembered." - You said tensely. Jungkook studied the data carefully.

"Someone is trying to launder money..." - He onfirmed. You nodded. 

"Yes, but the question is who's behind it." - You swiped your finger across the screen, showing another entry. "We need to check all the people involved in the project. But it will take a long time. What should we tell Namjoon?" - You asked, your voice filled with excitement. Jungkook clenched his jaw.

"We need to tell him that the latest uranium shipments are delayed due to customs control and that this needs to be resolved. In the meantime, we'll look for the money launderers. We need to find who is behind this." - Jungkook said.

You sighed, rubbing your temples. You had a bad feeling about this. It was as if someone was deliberately creating a problem, and you and Jungkook were caught in the middle of it.

Jungkook was silent. He still held the tablet in his hands, glancing over the documents, but you knew he was already forming a plan in his head. Suddenly, he put the tablet aside and reached out to you.

"Come here." - He grabbed your wrist, inviting you to sit in his arms. You raised your eyebrows in surprise, but he was already hugging you gently. His arms wrapped around your waist and his warm breath touched your neck.

"We'll figure it out. I promise." - He said soothingly. You relaxed a little, resting your head on his shoulder.

"I know... I just don't want this problem to go too far." - You worried. 

"It won't." - He patted your back, leaning his head closer to yours. "Now... let's go take a shower. Then we'll have dinner. We need to catch our breath."

"Are you seducing me again?" - You smiled, lifting your head slightly to meet his gaze. Jungkook laughed softly, leaning down to your lips.

"If it is... so what?" - He kissed you slowly and gently. He pulled away from your lips, and the next moment he was already picking you up, forcing you to wrap your arms around his neck.

"Hey! I can walk!" - You shouted. 

"I know." - He touched the tip of his nose to yours. "But I like carrying you." - You shook your head, laughing, and he moved toward the bathroom without letting go of you.

A black Mercedes Geletwagen was crossing the city center. You and Jungkook were on their way to Mono Corp. You had to get to the office to take care of some urgent matters. You left the baby with your mom, who had come to visit you and Jungkook that morning. When you got to the penultimate floor of the company, you had to part ways. Jungkook said he'd pick you up in a few hours, after he'd taken care of all his business and you were going home for a family dinner.

Your secretary greeted you with a big smile. She didn't often see you at the workplace, and yet you had to be here. You gave her a few instructions and were about to enter the office when she called you. 

"Y/N-nim. A gift was sent to you yesterday, but I don't know who it was from. I put it on your desk." - You thanked her confusedly and went in office. 

You slowly walked over and threw the bag on the chair. On the smooth surface, among the neatly folded documents, was... a candy. Bright, childish, left by someone purposely. You took the candy in your hands, rolling it between your fingers, but a feeling of wariness did not leave you. You frowned. And next to it was an envelope. White, without any inscriptions. A strange feeling crept inside you, but you picked it up and opened it, hesitating a bit. Inside was a photo.

Your heart skipped a beat for a moment. It was you, standing between two of the most important people from your past, Jungkook and Doohoon.

This photo was taken on the day when both boys won the competition and made the team representing the city. It was one of the happiest moments of your youth. The three of you were best friends then. Your fingers trembled as you looked inside the envelope again.

There was a piece of paper inside. You unfolded it. The black letters, written in a smooth handwriting, screamed danger. 

"You are the cause of his death. You will not live if he is dead."

It was as if something exploded in your head. Your heart was pounding, and my hands were clenched. A chill ran down your spine, and you looked around, as if expecting to see someone in the office.

But it was empty. Only the candy, the photo, and a piece of paper on the table. 

↰ Previous chapter ⋮ ≣ Index ↓ ⋮

[rumeras]

Self-indulging my domestic Sylus train bc I need this rn this is not proofread I’m half asleep lol

You couldn’t sleep. It was so infuriating. You were trying so hard. You pulled out the works. Rain sounds, warm milk, a hot bath.

Nothing was helping.

So you had to pull out the big guns.

The phone rings once before it’s picked up.

“Speak,” Sylus’ voice is low, deep. His tone is one you’ve become unaccustomed to over time.

“Hey,” You say softly, and you can tell he hadn’t realized you were calling. “How’s…work?”

You hear his low grumble of laughter, “Well, hello there, Kitten.”

You hear the soft chatter of voices fade, seems you may have caught him in the middle of something.

“I’m sorry, I can leave you alone—”

He interrupts you, ��—And why would you think I’d ever want that?”

You can’t help the soft giggle that leaves your lips, curling up deeper into your cocoon of blankets. You can smell Sylus on the fabric, and it soothes you a little more.

“I don’t want to bother you, especially when you’re working abroad like this.” You say softly, voice tinged with the slightest bit of exhaustion.

You hear Sylus hum noncommittally, “It’s always important when you call, now. What’s wrong with my beloved?”

You purse your lips, a soft pout on your lips, “I can’t sleep, I’m not used to you not being here..”

There it is, he thinks to himself. Settling into the couch cushion of a room far away from the commotion of illegal dealings. He’d come abroad to find a rat amongst the sellers he’d been looking into recently. Which had lead to him being away for over a week. Far too long by his standards, but work was work.

“Poor thing,” He drawls out softly, chucking when he hears your tired whine. “And what is it you’d like me to do about that?”

His tone is teasing, and you’re sure you’ll hang up on him just to spite his tone. But you know he’ll help, that he’ll do whatever you ask. Because he loves you.

“Talk to me?” Your voice sounds so pretty laced with that soft grumble of exhaustion, he finds the sound endearing.

So he caves, but is it really caving when he’d burn the world just to have you in his arms?

He talks to you, the baritone grumble of his voice vibrates through the phone. He talks about nothing in particular, just rattling off his days and what he’s done while away from you.

You hum along, voice slowly losing its normal tone and becoming breathy. A telltale sign you’re getting sleepy, he chuckles every now and again. Especially when you mumble something incoherent in response to his voice.

When he goes quiet too long, you whine, soft and just loud enough for him to hear.

“So fussy,” He’d say, before speaking again, “What if I run out of things to say? What would you do then?”

“I’d be..” You mutter softly, “So sad then..”

He thinks his heart may burst, his eyes soften, and if you were with him, he’d bury his face into the crook of your neck and pull you impossibly close to feel your warmth.

So he talks longer, until your breath is steady for at least twenty minutes. Then, and only then. Does he think to hang up.

Muttering a soft, “I love you.”

[supercap2319]

A/N: This could be given as a sequel to my last Fiyero Tigelaar fic.

: readmore:

Y/N watched as Fiyero approached him, Galinda hot at his heels. The Winkie prince gave him an easy going smile. This adorable little bookworm would soon be his. Fiyero thought to himself. There wasn't a person alive who could resist him once he turned up the charm.

“Hello, there.” Fiyero wiggled his fingers as Y/N shut his book and laid it down, giving Fiyero an annoyed look. “Hello.” Y/N’s greeting was about as warm and welcoming as a winter frost. Fiyero didn't seem to mind or notice as he gave a small bow. “You're Y/N, correct?”

“Yes, that's correct.”

“Well, allow me to introduce myself. I am Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie–”

“–I don't really give a damn who you are.” Y/N said.

The whole student body shared a collective gasp of shock. They had watched as Fiyero approached Y/N, only for the Upland boy to reject him. What was wrong with Y/N? Even Galinda was appalled by her brother's actions. “Y/N, how can you be so rude?” She admonished. “Fiyero is new here, and you're…you're…”

“You're a breath of fresh air.” Fiyero smiles.

“What?!” Everyone asked. Even Y/N was shocked by the Prince's unbothered attitude of how Y/N addressed him. Fiyero nods and smiles. “Yes, a breath of fresh air if you will. I've been to many schools to get swarmed by people who only say things that I wanna hear. It's refreshing to have someone have their own opinion for once. Tell me, Y/N. What are you doing out here?”

“Reading?” Y/N held up his book. “I trust you've seen one before. Or know how to read.”

Once again, Fiyero laughed as if Y/N’s snide comments didn't bother him in the slightest. Galinda gave an awkward chuckle as well. How could Fiyero be so nonchalant about being insulted? Especially his intelligence. “Well, I suppose I've never had a penchant for reading , but perhaps I haven't been introduced to the right book to captivate my attention.”

“Perhaps not.”

“Why don't you show me to your local library? I'm sure I could find something there with your help.” Fiyero smiles. His blue eyes were dancing with mischief and fun. Before Y/N could tell Fiyero to go jump off a cliff, Galinda stepped in. “Oh, we would be certainly delighted to show you around. Wouldn't we, Y/N?” Her smile was tight, and anything other than a ‘yes’ from Y/N would make Galinda upset.

Y/N sighed and stood up, trying to ignore the triumph smirk Fiyero was giving him at the moment. He began walking towards the Shiz building, not checking to see if Fiyero. “The library is this way, Prince Twinkie.” He continues towards the building as Galinda pulls a smirking Fiyero along. Oh, he was going to like this little bookworm.

They walked into the library, where Y/N spotted his dear friend, Elphaba, and waved as Galinda gave Fiyero a tour of someplace she's never even stepped into before. It was kind of hilarious to watch as Galinda addressed all around. “And this is the book place. There's a collection of rare books around here somewhere. And some medium rare as well.”

“He's looking for a book, sis. Not a steak.” Y/N said.

Fiyero chuckles. “Well, there's certainly many to choose from. What would you recommend, Y/N? A good adventure book? Perhaps something with a little bit of fun?”

“How about a book on the studies of why some people act brainless?” Y/N suggested.

“Tell me. What do you do for fun around here?” Fiyero ignored Y/N’s jab, and walked closer to the other male, smirking at him. Did this guy always have to smile at everything? “You ever been to the Ozdust Ballroom?”

“The Ozdust Ballroom? Are you insane?” Y/N asked.

Galinda gets in between them. “I mean, isn't that place somewhat illegal?” She looks around to make sure no one is listening before whispering. “And scandalocious?”

Fiyero nods. “Yeah, it is both of those things. Yeah. It's also not far from here, which is another plus.” Fiyero said as Boq, the Munchkin boy, trips and drops some of his books into the floor. Fiyero stifles a laugh as he looks down at him. “Whoa. You all right?”

Boq grunts as Y/N helps him up. “Yeah.”

“I'm Fiyero Tigelaar.” He looks at Y/N and winks. “Winkie Country.”

“Oh, Oz.” Y/N and Galinda both say for different reasons. Boq stood up. “Boq Woodsman.” He gets on a stack of books to be at the same height as Fiyero. “Of Munchkinland.” Galinda grabs Fiyero's arm and leads him away from Boq. Great. Excuse me. Good to know. Um, what were you saying again about the Ozdust and fun and you and me?”

“I was thinking of inviting you, and your brother to the Ozdust tonight.” Fiyero said.

“Unfortunately, it's against Shiz rules to go into town after dark. Sorry, Prince Twinkie.” Y/N said, but he didn't sound very sorry about it. Fiyero didn't seem to mind though. “I see that, once again, the responsibility to corrupt my fellow students…” He puts his arms around both Y/N and Galinda as she gasps. Y/N rolled his eyes. “...falls to me. Excuse me.” He grabs a book from a nearby girl, and he accidentally drops it to the floor. Y/N bends down to pick it up, but Fiyero puts a black riding boot on top of it. Y/N looks up as Fiyero shakes his head no.

“The trouble with schools is…” Fiyero began.

“Not a damn song.” Y/N whispered to himself. It seemed like everyone at this school could sing and dance like some sort of musical theater show you'd hear about in the Emerald city. Not in the Shiz library. “They always try to teach the wrong lesson.” Fiyero throws a book over his shoulders, and it lands with a thud. “Believe me, I've been kicked out of enough of them to know.”

Y/N believed that. Fiyero did seem like the type to cause so much mischief and chaos at the schools he previously attended, that they had no choice but to kick his ass out. “They want you to become less callow, less shallow. But I say, why invite stress in? Stop studying strife. And learn to live the unexamined life.” Fiyero easily charmed the librarian as he winked at Y/N, showing off. “Dancing through life. Skimming the surface Gliding where turf is smooth.” He gets on the table and in a very proactive pose starts to jumble around another student's head. Life's more painless for the brainless. Why think too hard, when it's so soothing? Dancing through life. No need to tough it. When you can slough it off as I do.”

The young Upland boy watched as Fiyero Tigelaar of Winkie country, start a whole musical number inside the library.

[naffeclipse]

Speakeasy

Reader x Mob Bosses!Sun and Moon

Commission Info

Many thanks to Anonymous for letting me go ham with the mob boss brothers and making them absolutely dastardly! I love the scenario for this one and just how sinister but sweet Sun and Moon can be when they have their favorite little thing sitting in their laps. The boys just love to show off what's theirs.

Content Warning for suggestive themes.

———

You are anxious, to say the least. Two large hands escort you. One rests on your shoulder, the animatronic’s off-white and yellow thumb sliding slightly underneath the neckline of your dress to stroke the bare skin of your shoulder. The other is on your waist, dark blue and silver, keeping you close despite your urge to race straight out of the speakeasy.

The mob bosses smile down at you with the wicked, wide smiles of sharks. In no uncertain terms, they are keeping you with them.

Swallowing your visible nervousness becomes hazardous as you realize that the illegal venue is very much open for business. Instead of a nightlife of posh people prepared to spend exuberant amounts of money on smoking and drinks, then swing away on the dance floor open before a small stage for a band, there are gangsters everywhere. They line the bar stools, sit in the plush, rich leather couches and seats, and musicians play low, soft jazz as if to not disturb the entrance of the crime lords of the Celestial Gang.

Your throat becomes thick as you smell cigarettes and alcohol and sharp, overapplied cologne. Low lights burn yellow and cast thick, clogging shadows around the open room. Several animatronics already flank a center sitting room away from the bar and dance floor. Human men dressed in sleazy suits quickly move towards the mob bosses. 

The small swarm settles when Sun and Moon escort you to a fine, black leather couch big enough for just the three of you. You bow your head under the scorching attention, all eyes seemingly upon the outsider their bosses brought along to the business meeting. Your hair falls into your face as a brief curtain to the overwhelming atmosphere. 

How did you get here? One moment, you’re researching the famed Celestial Gang for a column in the newspaper which pays you well to find the best, most reliable information, and the next, you were ‘borrowed’ by none other than Sun and Moon. The crime lords have done dark and dirty deeds to keep themselves high in the underground. Why kidnap you for a few days just to put you in a red dress and take you into the heart of their illegal dealings?

“Take a seat, love.” Sun presses close to your ear, warming your face when his faceplate touches the corner of your cheekbone.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Moon’s rough voice touches you. He lifts a hand and removes the shield of your hair and sweeps it behind your face, exposing your freckles and wide, green eyes. “What would you like? A drink, perhaps, my dear?”

You recoil, revealed by force once more to the many eyes, but the real danger is the ones with their hands on you, refusing to allow you to escape. A stutter begins in your throat. Swallowing it down, you force yourself to say in a tiny, demure voice, “No, thank you.”

“Later then.” Sun nods his sharp sun rays towards a man behind the bar. He moves swiftly, his hands flying out of sight. 

Sun and Moon promptly set you down on the couch, and you can’t help but wonder if this is what a minnow feels when crowded by two sharks as they take their seats on either side of you. Caging you with their bodies, your eyes widen at how they press their legs against yours. 

Sun leans forward in the slightest to take your hand between his own and unfurl the anxious fist you made. Moon leans deeper against the backrest and slides his arm behind you, cradling your waist. Stiffening, you hold as still as a doe deer in the sights of a hunter. All the while, every last goon stares down the three of you but not a word nor electric breath leaves those who await their bosses’ command.

The man behind the bar emerges carrying a silver tray with one lowball glass filled with a rich amber liquid. Close beside it is a dark blue pack of cigarettes.

You shift in your red dress as the bartender approaches. The fabric of your gown is rich and built to flare out when dancing. You didn’t want to put this on—no matter how lovely—but Sun and Moon cowed you with firm reminders. While they’re ‘borrowing’ you, they intend to dress you as they please. 

The checkered shrug was all you could manage. It took much to convince them to allow you to wear it but you pleaded, and they seem to enjoy it, much to your embarrassment.

The bartender bows and offers the tray to Sun first. Strangely, the animatronic accepts the glass while containing your hand in his other grasp. The amber liquid swirls between his nimble fingers. The bartender crosses to the other side of the couch. Moon tilts his head. His red eyes glance at the offering in approval before plucking the pack and immediately opening it.

Your mind spins with how they might indulge in the very human vices, but to your amazement, it seems to be a sort of ritual. There’s something ceremonial about the presentation. The enjoyment of something refined and toxic without partaking.

You watch the liquor glimmer in the crystalline cup. Sun pale eyes, sharp and dagger-like, pierce you with a glance.

“It’s bourbon, dollface.” He tips the glass closer, offering it to your lips. “You couldn’t imagine how much blood and money went into acquiring this one small glass. Would you like a taste?”

You flick your gaze up. He leans over you, crowding you, dwarfing you until you’re almost sliding onto Moon’s lap. His brother eagerly keeps you in place as Sun studies you. His smile holds an edge while he squeezes your hand in the slightest.

“I shouldn’t,” you murmur, but you shrink as you speak.

Sun’s eyes flash like the tip of a blade. He lowers the glass closer still to your mouth until a rich aroma spills upward and invades your senses. 

“Oh, but I say you should.” His grin bears down upon you. “No one touches my bourbon but I do want to know if it’s as worthwhile as the bottle says. One sip, turtle dove.”

You hold his gaze, almost trembling. It won’t kill you, certainly, but this is more than the pressure of a drink.

“Okay,” you concede meekly.

Sun’s smile is lethal as he presents it to you. Gazing into the amber liquid, you lean forward, unable to even hold the glass as Sun carefully presses it to your mouth and gently tilts it. A sweet spiciness spills over your tongue, reminding you of the solar crime lord. You merely wet your lips before it smoothly slides down your throat before you turn your head away. Sun allows it, satisfied with a sharp electric click of his tongue.

“How does it taste?” he purrs, catching your chin and lifting it higher as he admires you. A flutter overtakes your middle.

“Expensive,” you manage, “and strong.”

Tilting his head, Sun’s grin widens as his voice enters a growl so sweet it matches the bourbon’s flavor, “Good. It’s earned all the blood and money I spent on it.”

A few bodies shift from foot to foot and animatronics blink a few optics. Mercifully, Sun releases your chin. Again, you duck your face to hide as the liquor cools your stomach. Only a few drops and you already feel strange and tiny like a trapped rat.

Moon flicks a lighter. The sharp spark of it catching causes you to jump, and Moon chuckles a dark, rolling sound deep within his chassis.

“Relax, baby.” His red eyes search through the curtain of your hair. “You’re in good hands.”

You take a long strand of hair hanging in your face and begin twirling it around your finger. Twisting and twisting the lock, you watch Moon methodically pick a cigarette from the pack using one hand. Slowly, he slides his arm out from behind you. A dark pulse to his gaze washes down you until he reaches for your face and sweeps back the hair dangling in front of you.

“Look me in the eyes. You’re too pretty to hide from me,” he says in both warning and affection, and it chills you to the bone. “Don’t do that again.”

“Okay,” you breathe. Every function within you shrivels under the intensity of his red eyes holding you captive.

His fingertips slide over your cheekbones, lingering for a moment as if he might count every freckle dusting your skin. You tremble inwardly. Moon shifts the cigarette dexterously to his fingers. Holding it steady, he leans forward.

“Be a doll,” Moon rasps. He’s not asking.

“I—” you take a deep breath, your heart pumping hard. “I don’t smoke.”

“I know, my dear,” Moon chuckles sinisterly. You do not doubt that he does. “You’re going to help me light it, nothing more.”

A part of you writhes but you can do little but part your lips. Your fingers twitch as if you had a hope of taking it yourself, but Sun’s firm grasp on your hand is thick as shackles and Moon is as unyielding as a cold night.

He sets it softly on your lips. Unfamiliar with such a ritual, you freeze as Moon holds out the pale flame. He cups it, looming over you while he sets the end aglow with red-hot heat, and all the while, his eyes are devouring you whole.

“Hold still,” Moon commands. 

He lights it, and on instinct, you inhale. A poor choice, considering the flood of smoke that quickly sets fire to your lungs with a singing flavor of anise. A fierce cough overtakes you. Moon takes the cigarette from your lips as Sun tuts his tongue. 

“Naughty thing,” Moon chastises as he allows you to finish your fit, but he draws the cigarette away from you, holding it perfectly between his fingers while his other hand roams your back, hitting softly until you, at last, expel the last of the forsaking tobacco now staining you fiercely.

“You need to be good, love,” Sun reminds close to your ear. His digit plays with the dangling jewelry hanging from your earlobe. A shiny, silver sword. “What are we to do with you if you can’t behave?”

You choke but for a far different reason.

“I’ll be good,” you say, unable to get out anything else but whatever might please them.

“That’s all we ask, baby.” Moon’s hand slips under your chin to turn you towards him. Your lips part as he squeezes in the slightest, and you feel like a fish with your lips puffed into a pout. “Business will only take a moment, then we’ll get back to you.”

You bleed a fierce blush at how he holds you, his eyes commanding you without restraint. You utter a pathetic sound of agreement before the crime lords share a look.

They keep you firmly in place all the while they conduct the mafia meeting. Throughout, Sun’s and Moon’s hands are constantly upon you. Sun speaks of numbers, how well the handling of merchandise such as alcohol has transpired and Moon focuses on conflict, the safety of the gang and the casualties suffered, and how to strike back against those who crossed the line against them. You listen, feeling little more than a plaything in their palms. Moon rubs your side gently. Sun traces his thumb over your knuckles. You endure their forced closeness, unable to even hide behind the curtain of your hair as per their warning.

Then, at last, Sun and Moon lean back with a sort of finality. The goons relax in the slightest, able to ease off from their strict attentiveness before a slow murmur of talk stirs the air. The music picks up a touch louder. A slow, smooth sound of jazz that fills you to the brim. You can hardly unclench your jaw before Sun and Moon share a look so devilish, you fear for your soul.

“We worked hard today, Sun,” Moon drawls out sinisterly.

“We have. We need a reward,” Sun hums, pleased and dastardly. 

“What are you talking about?” you ask, your heart racing within you.

“A dance, of course, dollface.” Sun takes your hand and lifts it high. Moon captures your other before you register how they lift you from the couch in one swift motion.

You reel as they escort you to the dance floor. One flick of Moon’s hand commands the musicians to turn up the music, and the gangsters’ eyes follow you as you’re pulled onto the last place you want to be. The dance floor. 

In one sure motion, Sun begins to remove the shrug from your shoulders. Any resistance you might have made is cut by Moon holding you in place by your chin until Sun carelessly tosses the checkered cloth off to the side. 

“Beautiful,” Moon announces. His thumb finds the tattoo of a quill on your right bicep and strokes it adoringly. You shiver under the caress.

You freeze when another presence falls into your shadow.

“Lovely little thing,” Sun says as he traces a finger along the line of your bare shoulder. Another shudder rolls down your spine.

You turn as if you might escape but Sun seizes you by the hip and lifts your arm high, twirling you until the world is a blur of low light and smoky haze, and dips you. You gasp. The same nefarious hands catch you by the waist, bowing so close to your face, the sharp crown framing Sun’s head in sharp, yellow rays takes over your vision. A blush fills you to the brim.

“There’s nothing to fear, love. We’ll lead,” Sun reassures you with a laugh that flips your heart. “Won’t we, Moon?”

“We will.” Moon answers by stealing you away into a swift step that leaves you dizzy and with a head rush. He half drags, half carries you with a tight grip on your hands. You can barely catch up. 

You flush, trying to protest that you want to leave, now, and stop being a shining new toy to show off to their underlings, but there’s no denying the crime lords. Moon sweeps your feet off the ground as he grabs your waist and lifts you in a half circle. The red fabric of your dress flares out. Your stomach drops and your heart soars.

Then you’re back on your feet. Breathless, left spinning after Sun’s dip and Moon’s twist, you can hardly register the closeness until both mob bosses are upon you. At your back, Sun clasps your hand, holding it behind your waist as if he intends to pin you against his brother. Moon likewise captures your other hand, holding it shoulder-level. Two palms fall to your hips, and in a strange, electrifying motion, Sun and Moon force you to dance with both of them.

“How do you know how to do this?” is all you can gasp. It’s too perfect. Too prepared. Sun looms over your shoulder with a lethal warmth while you turn your cheek as if you might keep both of them in your vision. Moon presses closer to you, hanging over you like the cool threat of a storm.

“We have thought long and hard about what we might do with a troublemaker like you,” Sun speaks low into your ear. “You’ve been learning too much, turtle dove.”

You stiffen in the slightest. Despite this, your feet are caught in their rhythm, slowly spinning in time to the romantic tune floating in the air.

“What?” you breathe. “How did you—”

“We have our ways,” Moon reminds. He tilts his head, his fedora covering the lowlight and shadowing his face even deeper. 

They know. You found out their relation to their elder brother. The police chief.

You also found that they haven’t spoken to each other in years.

Your pulse picks up in horror. This is what this has been about. This whole time, the cat-and-mouse game, is because they’re going to kill you.

“Please,” you say, trembling. Their hands squeeze your own. 

“Hm? Speak up, love,” Sun laughs, taunting you. “I can’t hear you.”

“Don’t kill me,” you say it starkly, quietly. Your eyes are wide. There is nowhere to hide while they trap you between their chassis. 

Moon stares at you, his red eyes darkening into crimson before he releases your waist and slowly leans down. He captures your face between his palms. With Sun holding you in place, there is nowhere to run. You close your eyes.

A brush of something cool and tasting of anise falls against your lips. You start under the lunar crime lord’s kiss. When you open your eyes, his grin is pleased, wicked. He holds you a moment longer under his sharp teeth.

“That would be a waste, don’t you think?” he rasps.

Sun grunts something before he spins you around by the hips. Moon allows him, and he takes you by the waist to keep you on your feet while Sun looks upon you with desire so fiery, that you fear it will engulf you. His pale eyes gnaw away at your every edge.

“I thought…” you murmur senselessly. 

“You thought wrong.” Sun presses a finger to your lips with a wicked grin. “I need to take a bite out of you too.”

This time, your eyes are wide open when he bends down to press his faceplate to your lips, and you gasp underneath his hungry kiss. He pushes and pulls, and you almost sway were it not for the Moon stabilizing you. Sun releases you slowly, greedily.

“That’s right, dollface,” Sun purrs as Moon presses close and kisses the back of your neck. “We have plans for you.”

[dashing-disaster]

Bad Beer and Naked Rodents

Thank you @xmidhel for beta reading!

also on AO3

“You know,” Sal drawls, twisting the cap off another beer and handing it over, “for someone with an above average IQ, you’re dense as fuck.”

Tommy glares but accepts the bottle without protest. It’s his third. He takes a long sip and shudders. Bud Light. Why did Sal have to be such a fucking stereotype? But he was too tired to complain. He was too tired to do much of anything right now.

“He’s not wrong,” Lucy said to his left and Tommy directed his glare towards her instead. Like Sal, she wasn’t impressed.

“What? You know it’s true. There you are, genuinely happy for the first time in…” she pauses to think, “for the first time since I met you, actually.”

“Ever” Tommy supplies miserably, sinking further into the couch cushions. Something pokes into his right kidney and he reaches underneath himself, pulling out a small doll with messy blue hair, a pink ruffled dress and a … horn?

“Unicorn Barbie,” Sal exclaims and snags the doll from his hand. “Thanks man, you just saved this household a lot of sweat and tears. Look, babe, he found her!”

“Uncle Tommy to the rescue,” Gina says dryly, without even looking up from her laptop where she’s furiously typing some email that’s probably important and Tommy feels a pang of guilt at intruding on her peace and quiet unannounced at 9pm on a week day, Lucy in tow. He’s unable to dwell on it, however, because Lucy pipes up again.

“Let’s circle back here for a moment, your life was going great, you were happy, your hair was even starting to look good-“

“Hey!”

“Don’t interrupt me, Thomas. My point is, you got scared of commitment for three seconds and tell Evan Buckley, Evan Buckley, to go off to frolic on Grindr? I’m sorry, but do you know how stupid that is? Do you have any idea what happens to guys like Evan Buckley on Grindr?”

“Say his name like that one more time and I swear to God.” It comes out with far more venom than intended and he cringes internally. Why does he have to be such a bitch? It’s a credit to their love for him that none of his friends even bat an eye.

They’re not gentle either, and Tommy’s kind of glad about it. He doesn’t deserve gentle. Not now, maybe not ever again.

“What happens to guys like him on Grindr,” Sal asks curiously and then frowns. “And what do you know about Grindr?”

“My cousin wanted to try it out but he’s super paranoid about technology stealing his data, man’s still got a Nokia. So we set up his profile on my phone. He decided it wasn’t for him 10 minutes in but I kept the app and sometimes I go window shopping when downtime gets too long.”

“Why am I not surprised in the slightest,” Tommy mutters into his beer. Lucy is undeterred.

“Anyway, Gabe’s no hag either and similarly baby-faced as Buck so every time I open the app they’re on him in minutes. Seriously, it’s like The Walking Dead and some of the messages I get are borderline illegal. And don’t get me started on the dick pics. They’re not even nice-looking dicks most of the time.”

“Is there such a thing as a nice-looking dick? I’ve always found they all look a little like mole-rats.”

Sal, who’s been fiddling with Unicorn Barbie’s hair in a futile attempt to get out some of the knots pauses and makes a pitiful little sound staring wide-eyed at his wife who’s still neither looking up from her screen, nor is she pausing her aggressive typing, and Tommy’s both impressed and a little scared of that level of multi-tasking.

“Don’t worry, bud, Gi loves your dick. You’ve got three little monsters to prove it.”

Sal shoots Lucy a look so dirty Tommy almost laughs.

“I love the man attached to it. It’s still a mole-rat, though.” A beat of silence, then Gina looks up from her laptop for the first time in two hours, finding her husband’s eyes across the coffee table. “I love mole-rats.”

Lucy snorts, but Sal looks so pleased even Tommy has to smile.

“Still, though,” Lucy picks up the previous topic again, “are we sure it’s a good idea to throw Buck into a world of mole-rats and creepy old dudes wanting him to call them ‘daddy’?”

Tommy decidedly does not look in Sal’s direction. He loves Lucy and Gina but this is a topic one only discusses with one’s very best of friends.

���A world of disappointment, more like. Buck’s had Tommy now, anything else will just be a let-down.” The dirty grin spreading on Sal’s face tells Tommy he’s about to be in trouble. And he’s right.

“We didn’t call my boy here Nine-Inch-Nail in high school for nothin’.”

“Okay, first of all, that is such a lie,” the grin goes impossibly wider, “and second, I am not 9 inches, okay?”

Three sets of eyes wander down to his crotch and if it wasn’t these exact three people, Tommy would be so uncomfortable right now. As it is, he simply huffs and shoves a throw pillow into his lap, crossing his arms like a petulant toddler.

“I’m 8.6.”

Silence.

Then all three of them burst out laughing. He tries to hold on to his petulance, but he only lasts about ten seconds before the corners of his mouth begin to twitch and he finds himself joining in against all odds.

“As I was saying,” Sal hiccups after they’ve all calmed down again, “Buck doesn’t need any other mens’ mole-rats. He only needs Tommy’s giant mole-rat.”

Tommy groans.

“God, I hate you.”

Half past midnight Gina pulls the plug and throws them out. Sal tries to offer him the guest room, but he declines. As much as he loves his best friend’s daughters, he doubts he’ll can be Fun Uncle Tommy in the morning and he hates disappointing them.

As they wait for their Uber to pull up, Tommy feels strong fingers wrap around his wrist and a moment later he’s pulled into a tight hug.

“Don’t fuck up your life like that, Tom, not again. You were finally so happy. And I like you happy. ” Sal’s voice is quiet next to his ear, but there’s a softness to it that is usually reserved for his daughters. Tommy feels his throat close up and he buries his face into Sal’s shoulder.

“I just don’t know how not to, Sallie,” he admits and hates how forlorn it sounds.

How forlorn he feels.

“You trust him. I know it’s the most terrifying thing to do, believe me I do. But you gotta.”

Sal pulls back to catch his eyes, but keeps hold of Tommy’s shoulders.

“This man is the best thing that’s ever happened to you, Tom, and if you give up on what you have now, you will regret it for the rest of your life. But in order to keep it, you need to let him in and you need to trust him to know what he wants. It’s not your place to decide that for him.

And I know you want to let him set the pace, but you can only do that as long as you’re able to keep up. This relationship is about the both of you and if things are moving too fast, you have to tell him that. It’s not fair to either of you if you don’t.

And Tommy, you have to talk to him about your shit.”

Tommy opens his mouth to protest but Sal shuts him up with a shake of his head.

“No buts. Buck isn’t stupid. Do you really think he hasn’t clocked by now that you have trauma? I’m not saying you gotta tell him all of it at once. But you need to start somewhere.”

Sal pulls him back in roughly and presses a kiss to his temple.

 “I’ve seen the way that boy looks at you. He wants to take care of your heart so badly. Let him. Let him love you. All of you.

And if it all goes to shit anyway, you know that I’ll be right here. I always will be.”

Tommy bursts into tears.

It’s 3am when he finally finds himself knocking at the same door he closed behind himself for what he thought would be the last time less than ten hours ago.

It’s telling that it takes Evan just under half a minute to open it. It’s more telling that his eyes are red-rimmed, and he’s still wearing the same clothes.

Evan’s terrible at hiding his emotions, doesn’t even try to most of the time. It’s one of the many things Tommy loves about him.

Right now, he seems to experience all of them at the same time.

Hope, when he opens the door. Relief, when his eyes fall on Tommy in the hallway.

Hurt, anger, fear, concern, fondness, and finally back to hope.

He’s silent. Waiting.

Tommy takes a breath.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

They look at each other, the insecurity and fear hanging between them like a cloud of vapor, so thick Tommy can almost taste it.

But there’s something else, too. Smaller, more fragile, and yet persistent like a moth chasing the light.

It’s the same thing Tommy’s seen in Evan’s eyes earlier.

Hope.

For a time, neither of them moves, as if they’re scared, that if they do it’ll spook and leave them alone in the dark again.

A minute passes. Two.

Somewhere in the building a baby begins to cry.

Evan steps aside.

[carveredlunds]

"He looked like a boy, masquerading as a gentleman": A meta on Amadeo, Venice, The Picture of Dorian Gray, and standing on the cusp of adulthood

TW: Discussions of SA, underage SA, human trafficking, slavery, and NSFW content

From a historical perspective, Armand's life as a teenage enslaved boy in Venice in the early 16th century gives us a chance to discuss the culture of male-male attraction in Venice during this period, specifically the contemporary understanding that older men could be attracted to young boys. This historical grounding can, in turn, offer insight into why Armand is trapped on the cusp of adulthood, how this manifests itself in his physicality, and how his story can be cautiously and sensitively used as a mirror for the real experiences of enslaved people in Venice during this period. I will be referring to him by his birth name (Arun), the name Marius gave him (Amadeo), and the name the Children of Darkness coven gave him (Armand), where appropriate.

In 1496 in Venice, illegal sexual relations between young boys and older men were so prevalent that 'special patrols [went] searching for boys who were patientes (sc. passive partners), monitoring schools for fencing, dance and song, where youths might be found in the evenings, and once again looking for companions of unequal age.'[1] This was roughly 27 years before Arun was purchased from a brothel by the vampire Marius de Romanus. Due to Armand's fractured memories of this period, it isn't clear when he was forcibly trafficked to Italy, but it is likely that he was bought by Marius in around 1523 at the age of 15 (assuming he was born in 1508, given that he says he's 514 in 2022).

As a physically attractive enslaved boy, Amadeo would have been understood as an object of desire ("object" in a literal sense, with no personhood of his own) to the older men around him. In his recent study Forbidden Desire in Early Modern Europe: Male–Male Sexual Relations, 1400–1750, historian Noel Malcolm discusses the contemporary evidence for the attraction of men towards adolescent boys. Malcolm explains that older men desiring teenage boys was a common and accepted part of Venetian culture, provided one did not act on those desires, and that attractive young men were often described similarly to women in surviving sources and contemporary literature.[2]

The important thing to note here is that teenagers were supposed to be desired before they started to show signs of maturity, when they could almost be considered sexless. As Malcolm writes, when 'a young man's looks became properly masculine (with facial hair, developed musculature, etc.), that is, fully differentiated from a feminine appearance, was precisely the time when he ceased to be seen as desirable by the great majority of older men.'[3] Due to poor nutrition, this might have occurred later for teenagers in the 16th century than it does today, but it was usually between the ages of 17 and 23.[4] Given that Amadeo was an enslaved child, and therefore probably not well-fed, he was likely late to develop. Putting aside the fact that in the books Armand is 17 when he's turned, Queen of the Damned offers some evidence for this:

'Did Daniel know that Armand had been a boy when all this had begun for him? Seventeen years old, and in those times that was young, very young. Seventeen-year-old boys in the twentieth century were virtual monsters; they had beards, hair on their chests, and yet they were children. Not then. Yet children worked as if they were men.'[5]

In light of this, it is worth mentioning that Armand has the slightest hint of facial hair. You can see this clearly in close-up shots, for instance these ones in my gifset. Here's one clear example:

With his long hair, his high cheekbones, and his thin frame, Amadeo would have fit perfectly into the feminine, feminised, youthful archetype that Malcolm describes. It would have been socially acceptable for older men to be attracted to him in Venice in the 16th century. According to Malcolm, 'When early modern writers described good-­looking boys, the terms they used were drawn from a standard repertoire that existed primarily to describe female beauty: coral lips, pearly teeth, ivory skin, and so on.'[6]

Obviously, the last point doesn't apply to Amadeo. Instead, he would have been desired because he was exoticized by the Italian network of artists that Marius "donated" him to (that is to say, his Otherness would have been sexualised, as a young boy possibly from Bengal as @depressedraisin suggested here). This exoticization is apparent in how Amadeo is portrayed in The Adoration of the Shepherds — kneeling, enraptured, with a look of subservient wonder on his face. (For an incredible meta which delves more deeply into this aspect of Armand's history, I recommend reading "Armand, colonialism, and the weaponisation of anti-Blackness" by @shesnake.)

If we assume (besides his obviously lightened skin), that The Adoration is a fairly accurate portrayal of Amadeo at 20 years old, then the main difference between him at 20 and him at 27 is his slight facial hair. As discussed previously, the appearance of facial hair was a marker for young boys growing out of their desirability and into adulthood. Turned at 27, Armand is now stuck in this liminal space between boyhood and adulthood, and this is visibly apparent in his facial hair. His youth is mentioned in the show on a few occasions. When Louis first sees Armand in 2.01, he says that he 'looked like a boy, masquerading as a gentleman'. Madeline calls him 'young man' in a patronising tone in 2.06.

Interestingly, Armand's youth is mentioned more often than his race, though in the 18th-century flashback in 2.03, Nicolas asks Lestat, 'do you know this gypsy?' This is the only microaggression we've seen Armand face so far, but it offers a tiny glimpse into the kinds of comments that Armand will have faced for his entire life, both as a human and as a vampire. Obviously, Armand is not Romani, so the racial slur of "gypsy" does not apply to him (not that it applies in any context, but I mean it's literally inaccurate). However, this erasure of origins is common in contemporary historical references to people of colour. As historian Imtiaz Habib writes in Black Lives in the English Archives, 1500-1677: Imprints of the Invisible, Black people were often referenced in early modern sources using 'cryptic citations', referred to interchangeably as '"blackamore", "moor", "barberee", "barbaryen", "Ethiopian", and "Indian".'[7] Regardless of their country of origin, they were lumped together as one people.

In this way, Armand's lost origins could be seen as a representation for the surviving fragmentary evidence for people of colour from across the globe in English archival sources. He himself describes his memories in 2.04 as "fragments". This may be read as a metaphor for the sparse and fragmentary surviving archival evidence for enslaved people's experiences in the early 16th century, especially enslaved children. Where the evidence does survive, it is limited, and enslaved people's stories are usually recounted through the lenses of their white owners or observers, with their own voices lost to history.

There is another aspect of Armand's life which may be mirrored with the life of a real specific enslaved person. In Contested Subjecthood: Runaway Slaves in Early Modern Venice, historian E. Natalie Rothman recounts the story of Omar, an enslaved boy from Zara, living in 17th century Venice, who was given the name Pierantonio by his enslaver.[8] He had a long history of service since childhood, and had been baptised in 1648 when he was 10 years old, and, at the age of 32, was seeking permission to be married. Rothman writes that Omar's story:

'suggests ways in which enslavement as a child could actually facilitate effective forms of social, as well as spatial mobility, while curtailing others. His long years of service as a baptized slave were eventually rewarded by formal manumission [release from slavery], the acquisition of a trade, and insertion into a network of patronage that secured his ability to forge new kinship ties in Venice.'[9]

Likewise, it was Amadeo's long and loyal service to Marius, since childhood, which ultimately allowed him to become a vampire ('facilitate effective forms of social, as well as spatial mobility'). If Amadeo had not been Marius' property for as long as he was, if he had not had "skill", as he puts it, then Marius would not have shared the Dark Gift with him. It might be a slightly clumsy comparison, but vampirism could be seen as what Rothman describes — the reward of a trade and new kinship ties. However, though he had been rewarded, Amadeo was not yet freed from his service to Marius. He was now frozen in that place between boyhood and adulthood, having not quite lost what made him special to Marius, but not being the same boy he was.

Finally, this liminal state is manifested not only in his slight facial hair, his long hair, and his youthful features, but it is also realised in The Adoration. I made a gifset overlaying a quote from The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde with scenes of Armand looking at his portrait, which is relevant in this discussion. Armand is almost Dorian Gray in reverse. He might have lived for five centuries, but he a part of his soul is still trapped in that portrait, in a position of unwilling subservience. The fate Dorian Gray laments has happened to Armand. He has grown older, and taken on the countless sins of his vampiric life, but his picture has remained the same — frozen in servitude, representing that young boy who was adored for his beauty.

Bibliography

1. Noel Malcolm, Forbidden Desire in Early Modern Europe: Male–Male Sexual Relations, 1400–1750 (University of Oxford, 2024) p. 44. 2. Ibid., pp. 179-81. 3. Ibid., p. 180. 4. Ibid., pp. 46-7. 5. Anne Rice, Queen of the Damned (Warner Books, 1996) p. 102. 6. Malcolm, Forbidden Desire, p. 179. 7. Imtiaz Habib, Black Lives in the English Archives, 1500-1677: Imprints of the Invisible (Taylor & Francis Group, 2007) p. 2. 8. E. Natalie Rothman, Contested Subjecthood: Runaway Slaves in Early Modern Venice, Quaderni storici, NUOVA SERIE, Vol. 47, No. 140 (2), Riscatto, scambio, fuga (AGOSTO 2012), pp. 425-6. 9. Ibid., pp. 426-7.

[reidmoony-toast]

Strawberry Wine. ౨ৎ

"If I was empty space, and you were a formless shape we'd fit"

Spencer x fem singer!reader

The two times they miss each other, and the one time they don't

content: no use of y/n, fluff, pining galore

cw: lil suggestive? (She sings Chappell Roan)

wc: 2.4k

an: I've been cooking this up for a while, but life has been super busy, so I haven't yet finished the other parts. I'm very sorry if they take a few weeks to finish :[ Anyways, hope you enjoy! <3

| pt.1 | pt.2 | pt.3 | series masterlist ౨ৎ

· · ──────────── ·𖥸· ──────────── · ·

He really wished he wasn’t here. He never should have begrudgingly agreed to Penelope’s crazy plans, no matter how much she bugged him about it. This was about as far opposite to his kind of thing that you could get.

The lights were bright–unbearably so; flashing so much he feared he would have an epileptic episode (if it weren’t for the small fact that he didn’t actually have epilepsy, but he digressed).

The large room was also deafening, filled with fans, all of them buzzing in anticipation. Penelope was not an exception–she bounced up and down like a rogue ball, shrieking in excitement close to every thirty seconds. He would know. He had been counting.

Although he would rather be at the very back (if he had to choose anywhere in this wretched place), Penny had physically forced him into the very front row, only a barrier separating them from the stage.

He didn’t know and definitely didn’t want to know how Penelope had acquired such tickets and at such short notice before the show. He had found that he was better living in ignorance of the borderline illegal habits of his best friend.

He had just endured half an hour of what Penny had called the ‘openers’. He was dismayed to hear that the performance was not the actual concert; he learnt that the hard way when he had asked Penelope if they could leave, which she replied to with a cackle, stating that the band that had just exited the stage was, in fact, not the main event of the evening.

He had buried his face in his hands and let out a loud groan. He only had himself to blame for being caught up in the ‘Garcia puppy eyes’ trap, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t whinge at least a little bit–or a lot bit.

He didn’t know much about this singer girl, only that Penelope was obsessed with her, bringing her up in conversation many a time. He admitted that he often didn’t fully (if at all) listen when Garcia gushed over her–he seemed to always zone out.

He had never properly heard her songs, only in passing when Penelope would blast music in her cave, and he didn’t even have a clue what she looked like.

He was mentally preparing himself for the next few gruelling hours, with Penny jumping up and down beside him, when the lights dimmed, sending the whole room into a frenzy.

He winced at the screaming and whooping coming from all around him. Smoke machines started emitting mist, covering the stage and fogging up the colourful lights. The crowd continued to roar, Penelope squealing next to him and gripping the railing of the barrier.

A figure emerged through the haze, the silhouette showing locks of hair cascading over their shoulders, clad in a silk slip dress that ended at the mid thigh, hugging their curves.

They started singing–a smooth, silky voice wrapped around him, making the room suddenly feel more bearable. He swallowed hard. The singing was beautiful. Sweet and rich, wrapping around him like a cosy blanket.

He raised his eyebrows with pleasant surprise. It was, admittedly, not bad in the slightest. He hated to say it, but he was enjoying it, a lot. More than he should, given that it was new-age pop, not the refined tones of classical music–his favourite genre by far.

All thoughts of music flew out of his head as the owner of the angelic voice stepped into the stage lights, allowing him to properly see her for the first time. His breath left his body as he took her in.

She was gorgeous, stunning–almost ethereal, as her other-worldy voice filled his cochlea, transmitting electrical signals through his nerve pathways to his primary auditory cortex.

Her hair shone in the light, giving her a halo of the highest grade, her bright lips curled into a perfect smile around her words, and her eyes shone with a million glinting stars.

He was utterly enamoured by her–every facial expression, every movement she made, every note she sang was all absorbed thoroughly by his wide eyes.

In no time at all, the first song was over, finishing with loud cheering and clapping from the audience. The angel grinned out at the sea of fans, soaking up the feeling.

Unlike Spencer, she was well and truly in her element, looking as though there was not where else in the world she would rather be.

He gazed in open-mouthed awe at the way she floated effortlessly about the stage–and, of course, that breathtaking smile that scrunched her nose and revealed the prettiest dimples he had ever seen.

He was snapped back to reality with a sharp poke in the side from Penelope, centering his gravity away from the girl on stage and back to where he stood.

“What?” He said loudly, an exasperated look adorning his face as he tore his eyes back to his best friend. She was smirking at him, arms crossed in front of herself.

“You have such a thing for her, I’m surprised you're not drooling right now,” she answered mockingly. He scoffed, dismissing her words with a wave of his hands as he faced the stage again, not wanting to miss a moment of the show. He heard Garcia laugh deeply at his half-hearted denial.

All thoughts of Penelope soon left his mind as the heaven-sent saint started to sing again, striking chords in his heart at every note.

The song came and went again, and Spencer wished they would not go by so fast, so he could see her for as long as possible.

The next song started with a more upbeat track, and the angel laughed, running back down stage, scarily close to where Spencer stood. “She was a, Playboy, Brigitte Bardot,” she started to sing, “She showed me things, I didn't know.”

She stuck out her tongue playfully, shaking her hips, making the satin fabric hugging her curves sway.

“She did it right there, out on the deck,” she bit down on her bottom lip as Spencer’s face heated, realising what the song was about. “Put her canine teeth in the side of my neck.”

She gestured with her fingers to a spot on her neck, pretending as if her fingers were the teeth, tipping her head back with imaginary ecstasy. He swallowed heavily, face hot.

“I'm in the hallway waitin' for ya,” she sang, “Mini skirt and my go-go boots,” on those lyrics, she bent over, running her free hand from her heeled boots and up her legs, jutting her ass out.

Spencer’s mouth fell open in shock. He had never felt like this from only a few minutes of meeting someone, let alone just laying his eyes on them. This was completely out of the ordinary for him, and it left him reeling.

~☆~

Songs flitted by like the butterflies in his stomach, and his gaze was permanently fixated on the captivating women centre-stage. He couldn't tear his eyes away even if he tried–and he most definitely didn't.

A new song started, fading in with a catchy guitar riff, and the crowd went wild, sparking a wide smile on the angel’s face.

The drum beat started, and she strutted down the stage, tipping her head back and shaking her smooth curls out in the dim lights before she began to sing. “Midnight,” she dragged out the end of the word.

“Come and pick me up, no headlights,” she blew a kiss to the fans in front of her, winking as she made her way down the stage towards where Spencer was situated.

Penelope grasped his arm tighter and tighter as she neared, buttery voice washing over him.

“Watch us go ‘round and ‘round each time,” she stretched out the note, rolling her head to the side, eyes landing exactly where Spencer was standing. He froze, dumbstruck, as he locked eyes with her.

He gulped heavily as a cheeky grin adorned her face, soft lips framing perfectly white teeth. She straightened up, continuing the lyrics as she floated even closer to him, never breaking eye contact.

“You got that James Dean daydream look in your eye,” She knelt down on the stage in front of Spencer. His breathing stuttered as his gaze remained on her, utterly entranced.

“And I got that red lip classic thing that you like,” she dragged her thumb across her lip, singing to him through a happy, if not slightly teasing, smile.

“‘Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style,” He could see her mouth curving around each syllable as she sang into the microphone, eyes still, somehow, on him.

He most definitely looked like an idiot in that moment, with his flushed cheeks and slack-jawed awe of the ethereal woman only a few feet away, but he didn't have it in himself to care.

She had seen him, and not only that, she had actually come over and sat, right there on the stage in front of him. No matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, she was–without question–looking, and singing, straight at him.

She leaned impossibly closer, leaving only a few inches between their two faces as she crooned the words into the microphone. His eyes flicked across the features of her face before they settled on her own.

Up close, they were mesmerising– long, thick lashes framed bright irises, sparkling with the light of the night sky– he could almost map out the constellations he knew off by heart from the incandescent twinkles in her eyes.

“You got that long hair, slicked back-” She moved her free hand to hover over the collar of Spencer's shirt, seemingly asking silent consent to touch him.

He shook out of his trance long enough to nod vigorously. She let out a short chuckle, grabbing his collar and carefully but firmly pulling him closer by his shirt. “-white T-shirt.”

His breath hitched as hers ghosted his lips with every exhale, noses almost touching, with hardly any room for the microphone as his heart raced impossibly faster.

“And I got that good girl faith and a tight little skirt.” At that, she pulled away, letting go of his collar as she leaned back to run her free hand over her skirt, smirking at Spencer and his flaming-red face.

“And when we go crashing down, we come back every time,” she repeats, still serenading him. “'Cause we never go out of style, we never go out of style!” She finally stood, winking and blowing a kiss at a thoroughly flustered Spencer as she strutted to another part of the stage.

Spencer stood there, dumbfounded. He couldn't believe she had not only noticed him, but also sang right to him. His shirt was crumpled from where she had gripped it, but he didn't dare fix it. If possible, he would never smooth the rumpled fabric if it meant he could have a reminder of her always.

A rough shake of his shoulder brought him back to the present, Penelope standing astonished next to him, incredulous smile playing on her lips and she all but shrieked in his ear–something along the lines of, ‘You're so lucky!’ and ‘You're so down bad!’.

He didn't pay her any mind, instead keeping his still-red face on her, and her only.

She wandered to different parts of the stage during the remainder of the song, but Spencer didn't miss the more-than-occasional glances she sent his way throughout the next few songs, smile growing each time they locked eyes.

When they did, he matched her smile with his own goofy grin, his heart feeling as if it was beating out of his chest, breathing becoming erratic as he clutched the railing with white knuckles.

~☆~

All too soon, the concert came to an end, accompanied by raucous applause from the crowd. He clapped like a mad thing too, finally understanding why her fans acted the way they did.

The version of him from two hours ago would have teased him relentlessly for this, but he didn't care. It was another completely different version of him, a version that had not yet laid his eyes on her.

It certainly felt like a life-altering moment in his existence. His being was now split into ‘before’ and ‘after’. Before and after her.

She waved and blew kisses enthusiastically as she made her way off stage. He deduced that she would have to walk right past Spencer to get there. He pathetically hoped she would look at him one last time–prayed she cared enough to seek him out once again.

Electricity jolted through his entire body, head to toe, as she locked eyes with Spencer when he was in her direct line of sight.

She gave him a wink and a little wave, biting her lip through a larger-than-life grin; he felt giddy, hand coming up in an awkward half-wave. He silently cursed himself for the stiltedness of his actions.

She, however, didn't have such qualms as she blew him an air kiss, giggling as she turned away, skipping the rest of the way off stage. The screaming continued as the heel of her shoe disappeared behind the side-stage curtain.

He felt oddly hollow as the venue lights came back on, signalling the end of the show. He kept staring at the spot where she had last been, silently hoping she would come back out and sing again. Look at him again.

He blinked hard, finally re-orienting himself, glancing around to see a few people staring at him, whispering to themselves.

They were talking about him–about his encounter. He turned away again, ducking his head as his cheeks burned again.

As quickly as they came, the stares went again, and his eyes flicked back to the stage again. He so badly wanted to meet her, talk to her, even just lay his eyes on her again. That would be enough.

Penelope cleared her throat next to him, and he hummed in response, still not looking away. She snorted. “Come on lover boy, time to leave.”

He turned his attention to see her nod in the direction of the exit.

He gazed back at that spot once more, heaving out a melancholy sigh, before turning away, heading towards the door.

“Yeah, let's go.”

· · ──────────── ·𖥸· ──────────── · ·

Thank you for reading, feedback is appreciated x

Tags: @reidology13 - Comment to be added!

Masterlist ౨ৎ

[draqu1a]

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ A SPEEDY COMPETITION . . .

— what kind? : ANGST — warnings : harsh language , illegal car racing , viewers discretion is adviced .

The air crickled with animosity. You could practically taste it, metallic and sharp, clinging to the exhaust fumes hanging heavy in the desert air.

Neon signs buzzed a flashy symphony of defiance against the intruding twilight. Tonight, like every Friday night, the patch of concrete just outside the city limits transformed into a gladiatorial arena for horsepower.

And tonight, your opponent was Matt fucking Sturniolo.

He leaned against his cherry-red Mustang, arms crossed, a smirk playing on his infuriatingly pretty face. His usual carefully styled hair was, for once, genuinely windswept and you had to admit, hesitantly, that he looked good. Way too good.

"Ready to eat my dust, sweetheart?" he drawled, the edge in his voice betraying the feigned nonchalance.

"Honey, you're gonna be choking on it," you shot back, leaning against the hood of your souped-up Subaru, the engine throbbing like a caged beast. “And don't call me sweetheart.”

He pushed off the Mustang walked closer to you, his eyes dark and challenging. "Oh? Feeling confident, are we? Maybe you should be thinking about what you're gonna be wearing while you're working on my ride, sweetheart."

You scoffed, meeting his gaze head-on. "Please, Sturniolo. You think I even touch your pathetic attempt at a muscle car? I'd rather sand my skin off with a cheese grater."

Matt chuckled. "Always the dramatic style, aren't you? Then again, maybe you're just compensating for something... lacking in the driving department."

That was it. You’d had it with this condescending, entitled prick. You moved closer, your voice a low growl. “We both know that’s bullshit, Sturniolo. I’m the best driver out here and you know it.”

“Then prove it, sweetheart.” He stepped even closer so that his breath fanned across your face. "Let's make things interesting."

The air thickened, not just with exhaust but something else, something primal. You tilted your head, a slow smile spreading across your face. "Oh? And what did you have in mind?"

“Loser does whatever the winner says. No limits." His eyes sparkled with a challenge.

You paused, considering. It was reckless, insane and exactly what you needed. This rivalry with Matt, this burning animosity, kinda fueled you.

It pushed you harder, made you faster, made you better. The thought of finally having him under your thumb, forced to admit your superiority... God, it was intoxicating.

"No limits?" you echoed, drawing out the words, enjoying the way his jaw tightened. "You sure you can handle that, Sturniolo? Knowing me, I'll be taking a huge chunk of that oh-so-precious self-respect of yours."

He smirked, a genuine, predatory smirk that sent a shiver down your spine, despite yourself. "Trust me, sweetheart. You're the one who's gonna be regretting this. You have no idea what I have in mind for you

"Alright Sturniolo. You're on."

The day before the race, the tension was riding up to eleven. You found Matt tinkering under the hood of his Mustang, seemingly oblivious to the crowd going wild around him.

"Having second thoughts?" you yelled over the roar of engines, strolling over towards him.

He straightened up, wiping grease from his hands with a rag. "Not in the slightest. Just making sure you have no excuses when I leave you in the dust."

"Excuses? Honey, the only excuse you'll have is that my taillights were too blinding for you to see straight."

He rolled his eyes. "You're delusional."

"Oh, I'm delusional? Remember last month when you swore you'd beat me by a full second? How'd that work out for you, pretty boy?" You laughed, enjoying the way his face darkened.

"That was a fluke!" he sputtered. "My timing was off."

"Sure it was. Maybe you should spend less time worrying about your hair and more time learning how to drive." You reached out and ruffled his hair, just to rile him up even more, feeling victorious when he backed away from you looking mad and annoyed..

He grabbed your wrist, his grip surprisingly tight. "Don't touch me."

You met his gaze, your heart pounding a little faster than you liked. “Or what, Sturniolo? You gonna cry?”

His grip tightened. "Just stay away from me. I don't want you trying to sabotage my car before the race."

"Sabotage? Please. I wouldn't waste my time. Beating you fair and square is so much more satisfying." You yanked your wrist free. "Besides, I'm not the one known for playing dirty. Remember that time you tried to cut me off at the hairpin turn?"

"That was... tactical maneuvering!"

"It was cheating, Matt. Just admit it."

He glared at you, his jaw clenched so tight you thought it might shatter. "Just get lost. I need to focus."

You grinned, turning to leave. "Don't worry, honey. I'll be watching you. And tomorrow night? I'm going to enjoy every single second of your humiliation."

The race itself was a blur of adrenaline and roaring engines. You felt every shift, every curve, every micro-adjustment to your steering. You could hear Matt’s engine behind you, a constant irritating presence.

He was good, you had to give him that. But you were better.

As you crossed the finish line, a fraction of a second ahead of him, a victorious scream ripped through you. You'd won.

The crowd went wild, a chaotic mix of cheers and applause. You saw Matt pull up beside you, his face a mask of fury and disbelief.

He cut off his engine and stared at you, jaw tight, face unreadable. "You... you cheated," he spat out.

You laughed, pushing your hair out of your face. "Oh, please. Don't be a sore loser, Matt."

"I saw you. You boosted your engine a little more than allowed"

You smirked. "Maybe I just know how to work the system better than you do."

He was silent for a long moment, his eyes burning into you. Then, he let out a long, slow breath. "Fine," he said, his voice tight. "You won. What do you want?"

The possibilities flooded your head. Humiliation? Embarrassment? Make him wash your car in a bikini?

"I want you to admit it," you said, your voice low and dangerous. "I want you to stand right here, in front of everyone, and admit that I'm the better driver."

He flinched, his pride wounded. You pressed on, a delicious anticipation rising within you. You could feel him caving in.

"Say it, Sturniolo. Say I'm better."

He looked around at the expectant faces, the buzzing crowd, the glaring neon lights. And then, finally, he said it. "You're... you're the better driver."

It wasn't much, but it was enough. You saw the raw humiliation in his eyes and smirked.

"Good boy," you said, then you got out of your car, you watched him drive away.

This wasn't over. It was far from over. But for now, you savored the moment. You had won. And the best part was, you knew, deep down, that this was just the beginning.

Your little game with him has just begun.

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹🃜 . yappin claudia : idk what to put heree lol :p , i’m posting this so late too ugh .

𓂃˖ ࣪⊹🃜 . taglist : @strnilolover @ifwdominicfike @courta13 @sturns-mermaid @sturnsc @devonheffley @sophand4n4 @mi-co-uk . . . .

[theyanderespecialist]

Base Yandere Athena Headcanons (Greek Mythology)

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins! I am here with a new chapter and it is Athena Base Yandere Headcanons! I hope that you all enjoy this chapter here, muffins!] 

(Disclaimer: Athena is not yandere in canon! This is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it! You know who you are! Your Dirty, Flaky, Biscuits! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanons from canon! Thank you!)  -Base Yandere Headcanons With Yandere Athena X Gender Neutral Reader From (Greek Mythology- 

.Athena was a woman, who was born from the forehead of her father, Zeus. 

.She, like many of the other Gods, was above humans in a way. 

.That was until she met you and everything changed for her, she fell for you hard and her whole soul was for you, that is how she saw it. 

.She is the wisest of the Olympian gods and this carries over to her yandere side. 

.She would have many plans for how to win you over. Always multiple steps ahead of you.  .She would also teach you many things, as she was a teacher of not only how to be a warrior of the mind, but also with things like woven tapestries. 

.She would share all the wisdom and knowledge that she has collected over the thousands and thousands of years with you, because in her eyes you were worthy of it all. 

.She, for the most part, is a yandere that thinks with a clear head, although she could lose herself with her jealous and petty nature that comes with being a God. 

.She is a bit of a self-absorbed yandere that considers herself to be the fairest choice for you, so much so that if you were to choose another Goddess over her, it might cause another Trojan war. 

.She believes in her heart, body, mind, and soul that she is the only one good entity for you and that no other creature, hero, or God could compare to her ever. 

.She is a brave yandere that would face any rival head on with zero hesitation even if it was the Titans themselves. She would face them head on with zero hesitation.  .She is also a yandere that is very resourceful and can always come up with a plan to make you hers and keep you as her and hers alone. 

.She is also a very loyal and protective yandere that would fight for you to keep you safe and love you as hers and hers alone. 

.She is the type of yandere that will stand by your side and defend you to the bitter end. 

.She is so protective as a yandere, if someone were to go against you, it might even cause another war. 

.She would love reading with you, a lot of the time snuggled up with her as you both read together.  .She would also teach things, the crafts, and also science.  .She feels that learning about these things with her will bring you closer to her and that you can be the greatest mind she has ever molded. 

.Once again she has many plans on how to make you hers, so many, but she is also a determined and stubborn yanere. 

.In the sense once she has fallen in love with you, she is not moving or budging on how she feels. 

.And if you try to tell her you need space, that yandere stubbornness comes in and she makes sure you know she is not budging on that either.  .It would be frustrating for you because she is sometimes so stubborn and set in her ways that you cannot get a say in at all.  .She is also the yandere with you, her darling that she is very loving, kind and generous with you. 

.She would be the type of yandere to give you gifts, gifts she made herself, and she would even have a sword forged for you. (more on that in a bit)  .She deals with rivals more brutally, she is a Goddess and we know how petty she can. 

.Like what she did to Medusa, because Poesdsian Raped her in Athena's temple and Athena saw it in a negative light and like most goddesses blamed the woman. 

.She would give out divine punishment to all rivals, and make them suffer for even the slightest of things. 

.She knows from her immense knowledge that she is the best choice for you, and that you are the best choice for her.  .So anyone who dares try to get in the way of her love for you would have to be punished, may they be mortal or God.  .She would deal with rivals from "Small" punishments to causing complete and total wars in the name of her love for you. 

.No mortal or God would be safe from her wrath if they tried to get into bed with you, not even Zeus himself would be safe.  .Now, how she confesses her love for you, she would be direct about it and not beat around the bush. 

.She of course had planned this love confession as well, so it is unlikely you would turn it down. 

.But she confesses her love for you, with a sword she had forged for you, yes, and an engagement sword. 

(Screw engagement rings, we muffins want our yandere to have a sword forged for us! For us to use to kill our enemies and conquer the world as the deities we are! I very much like the idea of engagement swords!!!)  

.If you accept her love, you can expect that she is one day going to have you made into a deity, but first she was going to savor her time with you as a human. 

.If you reject her love though? Oh, she is not too happy, she is Athena, the Goddess of Wisdom and War! She has a mind like no other and could cause this world to go into world war 3 if she wanted to. And yet, you reject her, she would make a choice that would change your life forever. 

.First, she would kidnap you to a place where no one can guess where you and she have gone, then enters phase two. 

.In this phase she would get the Gods to agree that you are to be made into a deity and she will have Godhood forced upon you, that way you will never be able to leave her and you will one day learn to love her, after all she had all the time in the world to make you hers now.  .Either way, in the end you would be a deity and you would be by her side for all eternity. 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS another chapter is done! I hope you all enjoyed this, chapter and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!] 

[its-quiet-colter]

Mile High Club.

Agent Whiskey x Agent Pisco - Male! Reader

Word Count: 3926

Warnings: NSFW smut (18+), implied switch!whiskey & reader, friends with benefits, blowjob, handjob, thigh fucking, denial of feelings, semi-public sex (kinda) they b fuckin' in the plane.

Notes: this is apart of the Pisco and Whiskey series so i'll link part one. they're stand alones but meant to be read together :) i'm hoping for five or six parts in total !

| Part One | Part Two |

| archive of our own |

The Statesman’s private jet rumbles low and smooth as it makes its way towards Kentucky above the cloudline. It’s warm inside, with the faint smell of the distillery still lingering in the plane’s interior. The leather chair you’ve claimed as your own for the journey home is luxurious, the leather worn and high quality with its soft finishes and suede accents. The Statesman emblem embroidered onto the arm of the seat. 

Turbulence does little to unsettle the plane as its engine – high grade and expensive – keeps the ride graceful. It’s almost enough to lull you into a gentle sleep. And lord do you need it after your latest mission. There’s an ache in your shoulders that’s been there since this morning and a nasty bruise on the right side of your ribcage, left there from a chase through an underground marketplace. Turns out the selling of illicit drugs and illegal weapons was a high enough priority  for you and Whiskey to be sent out on a wild goose chase after the suppliers. But you were left empty handed, with nothing but battered bodies, bruised egos and both of your positions compromised to show for it.

You’re exhausted as you slump against the cushioning of the armchair, the scotch on your drinks tray having already been refilled twice over. You needed something to settle your nerves after such a long and grueling day out on the field. 

Ginger’s voice sounds muffled, distant and far away. Even as she only leans against the pool table in the middle of the room, folder in hand as she recites the debrief and talks you through the next steps. You fiddle with your tie again and look over to see Whiskey’s already pulled his free and has discarded it somewhere, undoing the buttons of his once crisp white shirt. It's there you realised he also stopped listening sometime between Ginger’s report of missing firearms and the serial numbers you found on the crates. 

Whiskey’s always been a little bit restless, always wanting to get out into the field and fix things himself– to not get bogged down in the paperwork and the meticulous details that Statesman requires of their agents. And he certainly never entertains Ginger when it’s her turn to run the post-mission debriefs.

Being an agent, much less one with a partner like Whiskey, has always been a cause for trouble. You’re exhausted and wrung out more often than you’d like to admit. But you love him, in your own fond way. Even if he landed you in Champ’s office more times than you can count for cutting corners and not listening to the intel provided. Convinced he can do it all himself. You remember Champ’s clear advice on the day you two were first paired together. Back when you were fresh out of the academy without the slightest idea of what Statesman had in store for you.

“He’s your responsibility, Pisco. Kid’s as reckless as you are. And I can’t have both my young bucks in trouble. I need you to be the level headed one– watch each other’s backs and keep the other out of trouble. Do that, and I think you two will do just fine here.” Champ had said with his classic southern drawl, rolling a vintage cigar in his fingers as he had gestured to the seat at the table that would always be held for Pisco. 

You’ll never forget the fond but expectant look he had given you when he welcomed you to the Statesman and told you Whiskey was yours as much as you were about to be his. Champ hadn’t meant it like that, of course. Partners in crime, the one to keep each other safe. Statesman could provide all the surveillance and intel you needed, but out there in the field– where explosions and bullets are occupational hazards rather than one-off incidents, it’s you who’d be out there covering his back. Partners, but not of that kind.

But then again, Champ didn’t think you two would end up frotting in the back of Tequila's jeep not even a year after being assigned together.

Lost in the thoughts of the good old days, you’ve completely given up on trying to pay attention to Ginger’s speech. I’ll apologize later, you think. Ginger’s always been a friend, and she puts up with your and Whiskey’s bullshit more times than either of you can count. You watch the jet pass through a thick layer of clouds, idly noticing the dew on the outside window and the way the landscape below disappears and reappears in quick succession. It’s rhythmic and soothing and enough to take your mind off things for a while.

Whiskey watches from his own seat opposite you. 

He notices the slight scuff on the side of your cheek from the chase during the mission, the way your suit is slightly askew and wrecked, and the way you’re reclined in the soft leather of the armchair– exhausted under the guise of being relaxed and boneless. He knows your appearance is due to the fact you’ve been running around all day, narrowly escaping every dangerous threat thrown at you. But in the soft lighting of the jet, he can’t help but think you’re not too far off from the dishevelled state he often leaves you in. When you’d both sneak away from those dry and boring meetings. Hidden amongst the barrels in the cellar that hoards Statesman’s finest collection of bourbon, Whiskey would be down on his knees, your cock taken down his throat as he milked you for all you had.

The sight of you now is all but a reminder of the taste of you.

It’s only been a week since you fucked him over the couch in that Seattle hotel, your hands holding onto his sides as he took all of you with his back arched and mouth left open in a drawn out moan. He can still feel you, the way you tugged on his belt to pull it loose, your hands moving him in whatever way it suited. He remembers the feel of your lips around the base of his cock, and the way you nailed his prostate which never failed to send him over the edge. 

Any other man would be flushed and embarrassed by the memory. But not Whiskey. All it does is serve to make his slacks grow tighter and his eagerness for you all the more intense.

You watch as he glares at Ginger, almost bothered by how methodical and well rounded she is with her research. Like he can’t wait to be done with this meeting and you wonder what’s gotten him so restless. It can't just be boredom, he’s always found a way to entertain himself through debriefs before. But then you notice it.

There it is. The slight shuffle of his body across the armchair as he tries not-so-subtly to hide his hard on by crossing one leg over the other and placing his hat over his lap. It takes all that’s in you not to laugh at the sight. Whiskey doesn’t know what subtlety is if it hit him square in the face.

You watch with satisfaction as Whiskey shifts, and then shifts again. The slight squeeze of his thighs and the way his ankles lock together. Awkwardly, he tries to alleviate the pressure in his pants, the faintest hint of friction enough to bite his top lip and lick the bristles of his just-barely overgrown moustache. He’s overdue for a trim, you think idly as you watch the movement of Whiskey’s mouth. The smallest of movements is more than enough to flood your mind with thoughts of him– lips around the head of your cock– and suddenly he’s not the only one suffering through Ginger’s debrief.

By the time she’s finished, clicking the off button on her clipboard and standing up straight, it feels like hours have passed. In reality, it’s more like twenty minutes or so, but it’s enough for you to settle your arousal and not embarrass yourself in front of your colleagues. Whiskey on the other hand has no such luck with his predicament, and you watch with a bitten back grin as he bolts to the bathroom the second she’s done talking. Almost tripping along the way as the door slams a little too harshly in a desperate attempt to separate himself from the rest of the plane.

“What’s up with Whiskey?” Ginger asks, standing beside you as she watches him go in slight confusion. There’s a gentle curiosity in her voice, along with an underlying tone of concern. She might not always see eye to eye with Whiskey, but she does care about him. You all do.

“No sé,” You say softly with a shake of your head, your hands stuffed in your pockets to hide the urge to fidget uncomfortably. “He’s probably just got flight sickness.”

She knows you’re lying. 

Ginger’s always been the perceptive one and it’s so blatantly obvious you’re not telling the truth since Whiskey has never been known to get sick whilst flying. Hell, he’s one of the few Statesman agents who is qualified to fly their F-22A Raptor Fighter Jet, Silver Pony. Something that Tequila never lets any of you hear the end of whenever he’s in a bad mood from having failed another pilot’s test.

The sound of a thud comes from the direction of the bathroom and you take it as your que to leave.

“I should check on him,” You say, the concern in your voice is only mildly convincing. You know exactly what’s wrong with him.

“Alright.” Ginger says with a final nod of her head, her fingers holding her clipboard like it’s suddenly become more interesting. She’s read the room, and she knows whatever is behind that bathroom door is a Pisco problem, not a Statesman one.

You watch as she makes her way to the bar, taking a seat and reaching over the counter for the closest bottle she can reach. She knows, you think. You have half a mind to ditch Whiskey and turn to her. Maybe you’d defend yourself, deny it. Try to assure yourself and Ginger that there’s nothing going on between you two. Nothing serious anyway. This thing you have with Whiskey– it’s professional. It won’t compromise either of you. You swear it. But even as you think the speech over in your head, the words sound unconvincing even to yourself.

The tick of your watch goes off. Another hour passed, and another hour closer until you’re back in Kentucky. It’s distractingly loud for such a small device as you shuffle your weight from one foot to the other. But maybe you’re just hyper aware of every little sound on the jet, too worked up to focus on just one thing. Undecided which direction you should walk as the silence rings out heavy in the room. You bite the inside of your cheek, considering both options before another thud is heard from the direction of the bathroom and your mind is made up for you.

Before you know it, you’re knocking on the door of the bathroom as you swear and fuss under your breath.

The lock clicks open, and Whiskey’s hand reaches out to tug you in with a handful of your shirt, shuffling awkwardly against the small counter to make room for you.

“Coño, could you have been any louder, Whiskey?” You grumble half-heartedly but he’s quick to bring you in for a searing kiss, well past the point of wanting to hear the lecture about public decency and professionalism in the workspace. Not when he’s preoccupied with the feel of your tongue over his teeth and your hands sliding up under his shirt to feel hot skin.

“Pisco.” Whiskey groans your name, bottom lip caught between his teeth as his head falls back against the bathroom wall. You go with him, following the movement until he lets your lip go as his mouth falls slack in a moan. God, he wants you.

It’s the first time you’ve taken a decent look at him since entering the bathroom. His suit’s ruined; blazer discarded against the lid of the toilet, his shirt rumpled and untucked with only half the buttons undone. Whiskey’s slacks are undone, belt still left in the loops as they rest around his thighs along with his underwear. One hand is wrapped around his cock, stroking himself desperately as he bucks and hisses into his palm. Desperate, you think. His eyes half-lidded and wanting as he looked at you expectantly.

Whiskey’s always been a show off. He’s come more times than he’s willing to admit, showing off for you. He loves to lay back and stroke his cock, arching and moan as he almost dares you to come over and make a mess of him. Whiskey is a man that loves to rile you up and play dirty, but you’ve seen how his own arousal betrays him. When his eyes widen and he tenses up when he realises he’s come too early and left spoiled in front of you.

“Pisco–” He moans again, this time his voice carrying a slight whine. Impatience is getting to him after being so worked up for a majority of the plane ride.

Whiskey reaches out, grabbing hold of your lapel. His thighs part as much as they can underneath the fabric of his slacks, wanting you closer so he can feel the press of your body against his own. He abandons his own leaking cock, needing both hands to tug at your belt and tug at the offending fabric keeping your arousal hidden.

“Come on, sugar.” Whiskey urges you on, tugging on the waistband of your to pull your member out from its confides. His hand, calloused and warm and already coated in his own precum, strokes you with a long drawn out movement from your base all the way up to thumb the tip.

Your head falls on his shoulder, groaning into the fabric of his shirt as your hips jut into his fist. It’s hasty and hurried, but the heat around you both from your breathy moans and body temperature has your head feeling light.

The bathroom is relatively simple, barely enough room for one person. There’s a small shower, a sink with a washer and cabinet mirror and a toilet in the corner. Everything is the same cream colour, but with the light off it's hard to notice so much– such an afterthought compared to the rest of the jet’s luxurious amenities. But you distinctly remember overhearing Champ telling Ginger all the planes are due for a remodel soon anyway.

“Switch with me,” Whiskey moans against your cheek, his hand moving fast around your cock. His own desperation making him more than eager. “Please darlin’.”

With a nod, you pull back enough to let Whiskey shuffle awkwardly around you. Trying to step over your leg without banging his tailbone against the counter. He can’t help but buck his hips when the movement has him grinding his oversensitive cock against your hip and he has to take a moment to just grip your shirt and stave off his orgasm. You can feel his hands flex as he clutches at your clothing, the way he tenses and he grinds his teeth together with his eyes squeezed shut. Frustrated at how close he is already as his hips roll forward.

“Steady.” The confidence in your voice surprises even yourself, sounding more put together than Whiskey, even if you feel just as riled up. “We’re good.”

You both shuffle around until your back is pressed up against the wall, your slacks down around your ankles. Whiskey spits in his palm, heavy and warm, his tongue lolling out lazily as heat pools low in your stomach at the sight. He rubs the insides of your thighs, feeling warm skin and strong muscle as he takes his time with all of you on offer.

Whiskey moves forward, his chest flushed against your own as he puts his cock between your thighs and thrusts languidly.

“Squeeze 'em for me, darlin’.” He moans, head tipped forward against your neck with his forearms planted either side of you.

The feel of Whiskey all around you, the smell of arousal and the warmth in your gut. It’s everything you love about him. How you two fit together perfectly. You do as you're told, thighs squeezing around his leaking cock as he bucks forward and thrusts against you frantically. His pace set early as he chases his own pleasure.

You can feel the weight of him against you, the way he thrusts into the heat between your thighs and you’re reminded to let him fuck you again the next time more space allows for it. He’s left you sated and properly wrung out more times than you can count.

“Yeah, so good, sugar.” Whiskey huffs under his breath, the praise delivered right against your ear. You can feel the brush of his moustache, the warmth of his soft little pants as he kisses down your neck and sucks a dark mark.

“Whiskey– below the collar.” You complain, pulling him into an open-mouthed to keep him from making it any less obvious between you two. Tongues roll together and the bristles of his facial hair against your top lip have you shivering as he whines into your kiss.

“You know that’s not how this works.” You’re left panting when you pull away, looking at him as your noses bump against one another.

“I heard ya, darlin’,” Whiskey says, his voice wrecked and as equally disheveled but the slight undertone of disappointment is there. You know him too well not to notice it.

You press an apologetic kiss to his lips, something soft and tender to cut through all the arousal and heat. His breath gets lighter, caught by something in his throat as you tug his buttons open and reveal his collarbone.

Whiskey’s cock twitches between the warm press of your thighs as you bite at his collar and leave a sprawl of little hickies and love bites. There’s the distinct taste of his sweat, his skin warm and smooth under your lips. If you could, you’d lay him out on a bed and kiss over every little bit of skin offered.

“Happy?” You ask, and his triumphant grin tells you all you need to know.

“Course I am, sugar.” Whiskey purrs against your lips as his eyes flash with excited arousal. His hips pick up their pace and he’s moaning against you. Precum beads from his tip, making the slide of his cock between your legs feel that much better.

Your hands move down his back, making him shiver as you brush against his waist. He thinks you’re going to settle on his hips, ease the movement of his thrusts– he loves when you set his pace, making him thrust at the tempo you want. a real cowboy through and through as he rides his stallion– but no. Your hands slide lower, down to Whiskey’s cheeks where you cup warm muscle in your palms and squeeze.

He moans, loud and filthy. 

Whiskey bucks forward into the tight heat of your thighs and then pushes back against your hands. The soreness in your bodies and the bruises littered all over you both are forgotten in the hazy fog of arousal. All he can think about is the heat of your muscled thighs around his cock and the way you hold him open. Whiskey can’t help the choked noise that falls from his lips at the brush of cold air against his hole. 

You kiss his temple, his cheek, whatever you can reach as his head rests against your own– almost like a warm and intimate embrace. Whiskey moans against your skin as he feels your finger against his entrance, not pushing inside but merely as a reminder of what will come later.

Heat coils low in Whiskey’s gut and he tries to push back on your fingers, wanting you. Needing you. Whatever you can give him. 

“Pisco–” He groans, his body tensing as his hips stutter forward and lose their rhythm.

Whiskey’s eyes go wide and he watches you, mouth slack as his orgasm hits hard. You feel warmth between your thighs, his come making a mess of you as he rides out his pleasure. The heat in his gut finally gives way as he calms down.

He’s boneless against you. Dishevelled and messy, Whiskey slumps forward so his chest is pressed against yours and his face is tucked against your neck.

“Mh,” He hums happily, eyes closed in blissful afterglow. “That was good, darlin’.”

Your hand finds its way to the back of Whiskey’s head, fingers sliding through his short sweaty hair on the back of his neck. Both of you stay like that, wrapped in a half-embrace, pressed together in a little bubble where the outside world is long gone.

As you’re catching your breath, Whiskey’s hand falls from your waist down to your neglected cock. He thumbs the tip, dragging his hand down in a languid pace now that he’s come. There’s no rushing in his movements.

It's here where you two forget you’re not a couple. Whiskey is your partner in everything to do with Statesman. But at the end of the day he heads to his own apartment, and you go to yours.

Sometimes you wonder if you two should just rip the bandaid off and talk about it. But that would mean talking about this. All these intimate little moments where Jack’s cocky persona is gone, his eyes half lidded as he watches the way you grind against his palm and he collects the precum leaking from your tip like it’s his prize for making you feel good.

“Jack.” You moan softly, your fingers curling at the nape of his neck as you twitch in his hand. He’s moaning too. Quiet little noises as his soft brown eyes are glazed over and his gaze is trained to the movement of his hand over your cock.

Your orgasm rolls through you, easy and relaxed as pleasure washes over you. Jack brings you in for a kiss as he strokes you through it. A soft, intimate gesture as you both hold each other.

There’s a long beat where neither of you move. Your back against the wall as your hands rest on his sides. Both of you are content to stay where you are despite the drying come on your thighs and the state of your crumpled suits.

It comes as a startle when there’s a rapt knock on the door. Two quick taps.

“Plane’s landing soon.” Ginger’s voice calls out, curt and quick. Like she’s practiced it in her head and now she can’t wait for it to be over with. You can hear the embarrassment in her voice. Apologize later, you remind yourself for the tenth time today.

Whiskey chuckles quietly against your shoulder, looking up at you with a raised brow. “Come on, sugar. We can’t keep 'em waiting or Champ’s going to chew us out again.”

Your eyeroll is to be expected, but so is your playful grin as Whiskey gives you a chaste kiss and pulls back to try and make himself look presentable again. Lord knows how difficult that will be, but a part of you– that quiet little part deep within your thoughts– honestly doesn’t mind the idea of you and Whiskey being seen like this together.

[znoob]

Thought bubble I just had (more like a while ago but what’re).

BUT!

For all the fics I’ve read and headcanons I’ve seen it Peter Parker being sent to the DC Universe I’ve never seen one where he’s kid age. Like there’s Leap of Faith by @erinwantstowrite (fire fic) where Peter is young but I’m talking about younger. I talking like 4-7 years old young.

This is how I imagine it to go as a starter:

Peter gets transported to DC Universe for whatever means. However, being transported from his world to a near parallel world where everything is almost the same with both major and minor difference (a billionaire orphan that becomes a hero, someone from War era that is lives in the present, a team of heroes that work together to save the world, etc.) has a huge strain on Peter. Some entity, maybe one of the Spider totems, in an attempt to keep Peter alive makes it where at the expensive of living he becomes younger.

So a young Peter Parker, say 4 years old, is wandering around Gotham both scared and lost because the last thing he remembers is being told his parents won’t be coming home. Now he’s in some spooky city, it’s dark and all kinds of people he passes or they pass him give him the unnerving sensation that they can hurt him. That they will if he lingers for a second too long.

Despite the sun being covered by thick clouds Peter knows it becomes night with how much louder the strange city becomes. The noise is overwhelming, on the edge of hurting his ears but even covering them with his hands do nothing but a light muffle. Still the young boy continues on, hoping to find a police station because that’s where his Uncle Ben works and surely on of Uncle Ben’s coworkers can help him.

Yet Peter soon comes into trouble by a couple of scary man. Crooked teeth and uneven teeth stained yellow, crazed eyes that hold the slightest of consciousness and thick arms that promises hurt. Three of them appear from the alley Peter was shuffling b, attempting to be quiet because his hair raised when nearing the alley opening.

One of them grips Peter by his upper arm, dragging the boy into the alleyway away from eyes that could rescue him. He struggles but the grip is too tight.

They cuss at him, throw slurs and insult with heavy accents and improper grammar. Peter doesn’t judge, his Aunt and Uncle always try to teach him that not everyone is fortunate to have good education like him. Still, the boy is panicking as they push him to the wall throwing commands at him.

“T’is here go’a be send to Rick d’wn t’ere,” one commands shoving some package into Peter’s hands. It’s something illegal, that much is obvious but what it may be is unknown.

Another starts throwing threats at Peter, promises of hurt and pain should he not complete the task while giving promises of a reward should he return with the money for the package. All the while Peter is trying to be brave, like his Aunt and Uncle taught him to be, because panicking will just anger the men. He’s unscathed now, maybe a bruise where the first gripped him but all bodily functions working.

He could try running. They’re sending him out so they won’t follow. Peter only needs to follow their instructions halfway, dump whatever was shoved into his hands and leave. Find a police station or a women with kids. A goth or punk can work too!

Although before the men could move to allow Peter to leave a thud is heard at the alley’s entrance. All three men pull guns out and the sight of them has Peter whimpering instinctually.

“Hazing kids now are we?” The person muses lightly. Their entire front is obscured, a singular lamppost positioned behind them leaving Peter to only see the red of their jacket. “Dangerous work there in these parts.”

“Kid volunteered,” gruffes the man furthest form Peter at the front of the pack. “Look’g to score some money. Ain’t not’in wro’g wit’ helping, aye Hood?”

The man, Hood, hummus thoughtfully. Peter wants to call out their lie but his tongue is tied.

“Yeah I ain’t believin’ that for a sec.”

Hood shoot the men. Peter drops to the ground shaking and crying, eyes shut and hand protectively over his head as fighting ensues around him. Everything feels wrong and something is screaming at Peter to leave while everyone is distracted yet he physically cannot move.

Fighting an internal battle to move or not Peter misses how silent everything has gotten until a voice calls from ahead.

Hood, gentle and soft unlike before a calling to Peter. A promise of safety and reassurance that no harm will come to him. The boy hesitated before looking up, finding the man standing lonesome and the three other men unconscious on the group.

Again Hood calls and this time Peter responds. Good, something says, he is safe. And when the man promises to bring Peter somewhere safe the boy barely hesitates before getting up and reaching the man.

That’s all I’ve got but I would have it where Jason, once’s seeing Peter up close, recognizes some features. He holds onto Peter for a while once learning the boy doesn’t have family nearby where he gets all close and shit before realizing why the boy seems so familiar and has to figure out how to tell Dick if he’s got a kid.

Also Peter would have memories of his older self but they’d be like things that would happen at random times. He’d walk into a room where there’s a complicated math equation and figure it out with ease ‘cause he did that in senior year of high school! And of course he’d keep his spider powers, they’d just show at the most random time and leave the Batfam flabbergasted cause how can such a tiny body had that much strength and WHAT YOU MEAN HES SLEEPING ON THE CEILING!?!??