#one day I can feel really good and confident and drive at a illegal speed and take the road like a storm

[podraje]

I'm on the road today (from my hometown to my city). All the way from my hometown area up till Katowice it was snowing, the weather is cold and gloomy. Now on a highway there is still some snow on the ground. I don't think I've ever driven in such a magical and beautiful atmosphere.

[candlewaxandp0lar0ids]

if I can never give you peace — two || Jungkook

Pairing: Jungkook x reader // Word count (chapter): 5.8k // Genre: Mafia AU, Hybrid AU, enemies to lovers // Ao3

↳ It starts like quite a few stories do, in your world. Girl meets boy, who happens to be a hybrid, girl buys him at an auction where hybrids are sold, boy falls in love with her, girl gets bored of him. Then it’s not so typical anymore, when the boy ends up forced into illegal fighting rings, until he makes a wrong move and the girl’s father decides he needs to be killed.

Where does that leave you? Well, you’re the one who handled Jungkook’s fight and generally organized his life, and, when the girl’s father, your boss and mafia leader, tells you he wants him ‘put down’, you’re the one who has to get it done. Except, instead, you let him escape, and everything turns out fine.

Until he comes back.

Warnings and tags (chapter): Descriptions of violence, Threats, kind of dark in general

First · Previous · Next

The car is late, you think as you smooth over the fabric of your skirt, your mouth twisted in a disapproving scowl. Annoyance is one of the few emotions that ever appear on your face, and you don’t even bother to hide it. You have only been standing there, waiting, for a few minutes, but it already disrupts your perfectly well-oiled routine. This is just one of the many changes that have come with Jungkook taking over, but it could be the one you are the least fond of.

You used to have the routine down to a T. You knew exactly when to leave your apartment so that the car would stop in front of you right as you reached the pavement. There were small hiccups every now and then — traffic, last-minute phone calls —, but most of the time, it went perfectly. You liked that. Having that kind of control, when your life had always been completely out of your hands, was comforting.

That went out the window the day you started working for Jungkook.

When the car stops in front of you, five minutes, that’s three-hundred seconds, after the agreed-upon time, you take a short breath before opening the door and stepping in.

There, of course, is your new boss, sitting with his legs widely spread on the leather seat. He changed your discreet sedan for a limousine, which you find obnoxious, but you didn’t protest. You liked to think that you were better than that at picking your battles

“Mr. Jeon,” you say with a nod, voice even.

Jungkook grins when you call him that. You know he enjoys the title, the power it indicates, particularly since hybrids are supposed to only ever have the same last name as their owners.

“Lot of work to be done today,” he comments, and you know he’s just saying that to rile you up. You used to report to Mr. X, but you worked on your own more often than not. Now, you’re basically Jungkook’s glorified secretary. You wouldn’t particularly mind the change if it didn’t mean that you had to sit and watch him superbly ignore your carefully crafted schedule, as he had every single day for the past week.

“Indeed,” you reply without batting an eyelid. “This morning, you have a meeting with Suga,” this one he should go to, he never misses them, “then you are supposed to eat with Fred Lucas,” chances were he wouldn’t show up to that and make you take him to a fancy restaurant instead, and you would be the one to have to handle the situation with him, “and later today I think it would be important for you to pay a visit to the Mystery Room.” That place was one of the few legal aspects of the business at the moment, if you ignore the drugs that get sold there, and it was not a location you should lose right now. “They have been quite… difficult, since the change in direction.”

That last one is new, and you’re not sure how Jungkook will react to it. Of course, there is plenty more work to do, but you’re trying out new methods to get him to do at least what really matters. You don’t understand why he would hire you if he doesn’t let you do your job, but hey, at least you’re alive. And so is your family.

You don’t know how long that will last, though. Unless Jungkook seriously gets his act together, it won’t take long for someone to think that they can do the same thing he did, and have him murdered. You’re even mildly surprised it hasn’t happened yet. That’s the thing, when a leader gets killed. It weakens the whole structure, and it gives people ideas.

The grin disappears from Jungkook’s face and he nods gravely at that last piece of information. That catches your eye, because it’s new. You tell yourself that maybe, just maybe, he spent the last week riding the high of his victory against Mr. X, and that he will be efficient if there’s trouble, at least.

“Cancel that second thing,” he says. “I want to eat at that restaurant I went to last week. You should get me a reservation there.”

Or not.

“But you can go meet him,” he adds, and you blink.

“Mr. Lucas is expecting to see you,” you say, in case you weren’t clear.

“And he doesn’t get to demand my presence like that,” Jungkook snaps. You bite the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from wincing. His voice sounds harsh, cutting. Dangerous. “Did he think that I’d go ask for treats because a human joined us? That’s not how that shit works.”

Okay. He’s not wrong here, but you don’t know about this— approachto the situation. Fred is, indeed, one of the two human leaders who decided to immediately join Jungkook when the news of the death of Mr. X and the uprising of hybrids in various parts of your branches in the city spread. You wouldn’t be surprised if he expected a treatment of favor for that, too, but you’re not sure letting him know how little his gesture was appreciated was the way to go.

“I don’t think—”

“He’s replaceable,” Jungkook says with a dismissive movement of the wrist. “I’ll swap him for one of my men the second he makes a mistake. It would be a lot better if no one forgot that.”

The look he gives you makes his message crystal clear. You feel your mouth getting dry, but you know nothing is showing in your expression, and that at least is a relief.

“I’ll go to the meeting and get you your reservation, then,” you say, pulling out your phone. “Does the rest of the schedule work for you?”

Jungkook frowns, and the tiniest feeling of satisfaction spreads in your chest. You know he’s just applying pressure and waiting for you to crack, but you won’t.You’re used to contorting yourself to please everyone. You’ve made it work for years, and it will take much more than those childish games for you to snap.

Or, at least, that’s what you’ve been telling yourself for the past week.

“Fine.” Then he closes his eyes and leans back in the seat. You raise an eyebrow at the sight. You know it’s not because he trusts you, but because he doesn’t think you have the guts to do anything to him — and because, even if you did, he’s pretty confident he wouldn’t have any trouble stopping you. You hate that you find something endearing in that vision. Jungkook was genetically designed to be handsome, and he is.More than that, though, when you look at him right now, even though his long bunny ears are skillfully hidden under a headband, he looks cute.

And he could — and would — take less than a second to snap your neck.

“This afternoon should be fun at least,” he mumbles under his breath, and you hide your grimace.

Shit. That can’t be good.

It’s been clear to you from the very first day that Suga knows exactly what he is doing. It’s also been clear that this isn’t his scene. Being at the forefront of operations, taking the lead — it’s obvious that he would much rather stay in the shadows. You’re not sure how important he was to Jungkook’s organization before, since no one has bothered trying to inform you of that, but you suspect that he’s usually more the type to be in the field.

Right now, though, he’s standing in front of a small group, exposing what the recent developments have been. Sitting behind Jungkook, you listen to him attentively. Those reunions should become less frequent, but right now things could still change completely, and you cannot afford to be taken by surprise.

You are, however, starting to feel less and less comfortable with the fact that nothing seems to be coming out of them. Sure, Yoongi informs you of the people who have sided with Jungkook and of those who are openly opposed to him — a minority, so far — but there is a large group in between that seems to be in no hurry to take position. And you don’t like it.

It hasn’t been long since Jungkook has taken over, but you should at least have gotten someintel by now. You’re not sure what isn’t working here. For now, you don’t want to risk provoking anyone by offering your services. Worry is starting to gnaw at you, though. You could all be driving into a dead-end street at full speed, and that stupid struggle you’re having with Jungkook just isn't worth dying over.

“So not much has changed,” Jungkook comments, tapping his fingers onto the table. He looks nonchalant, but you notice a muscle in his jaw twitching. You wonder if he understands more than he lets on.

“Things have been stagnant,” Yoongi admits without batting an eye. “There hasn’t been any open rebellion, but communication is lacking.”

“That needs to get better.”

“We’re working on it.”

They probably are, but it doesn’t look like that’s going well. Word has reached your ears that some of the branches have been keeping hybrids at bay as discreetly as possible.

“What about that Mystery Room thing?” Jungkook asks, frowning. “What’s going on over there?”

“The what?” Yoongi frowns.

Jungkook looks puzzled — pissed, actually — for a second, then glances at you over his shoulder, and the attention of the whole room suddenly shifts to you. You straighten your back, swallow.

“The owner of the bar has missed a payment to us,” you state calmly, “and it seems that he has no intention of making it and is trying to get out of his contract with us. It would be better if we didn’t lose it right now.”

“What do you mean, ‘it seems’?” Yoongi asks, narrowing his golden eyes at you. His voice sounds more like a hiss, and this time, you struggle to hide your reaction. You haven’t forgotten what it felt like, when you thought he was going to kill you. It’s affected you more than you’d like to admit.

“I have a contact who—”

Yoongi clicks his tongue, and you close your mouth.

“I’m going there today,” Jungkook informs him, and Yoongi nods.

“I’ll be around.”

The two men have a silent exchange of looks. Their relationship is somewhat atypical, not something Mr. X had with anyone. It looks like they genuinely rely on and trust each other. You suppose someone else would find it touching, but you don’t have it in yourself. Especially not when that means they both have it out for you.

“Haven’t you been following what we’ve been talking about here for the past week?” Jungkook snarks at you, and you blink. “Any information you get from now on needs to get to Suga so he can factor it in.” At that, you give him a disbelieving look. That just won’t work. It can’t. Not for the first time, you wonder how much he underestimates you, exactly. If he knew anything about the way you work, about how many contacts you have and how much information you’re usually juggling with, he would never ask that of you.

Yet you nod. You don’t know yet if you’ll send a believable amount of intel to Suga, or just absolutely drown him under it until they tell you to stop, but once more, this just isn’t worth fighting over.

Especially when fighting over something can so easily mean dying over it, in your current situation.

“Will do, Mr. Jeon.”

He looks displeased, and you know it’s because all he’s waiting for is for you to slip.

“I shouldn’t even bring you to these meetings. You’re not even taking any notes. That’s fucking useless.”

It takes everything in you to bite back a scoff at that. You could tell him you don’t need to take notes when Yoongi is talking about minimal changes in a landscape you know on the tip of your fingers, that maybe you would if he said anything of value, and that this wouldn’t be an issue if people actually feared him.

You marvel at how annoyed that quip makes you. You suppose you don’t like it when your competence is questioned. You don’t like the threat either, though. You don’t want to risk falling out of the loop.

“I’ve gotten you a reservation at that restaurant,” you say. “If things are done here, I’ll be on my way to meet Mr. Lucas.”

Changing the subject. Deflecting. Trying your best to live to see another day. It seems like it’s all you’ve been doing for the past week. You know you can keep it up for a long time, you’re patient enough. You also know that this game is set up to make you lose.

Right now, as Jungkook looks at you, clearly not amused by your attitude, there is a terrifying moment during which you fear that he might just drop the charade. The only point of this whole thing is to get rid of you. He could decide he only wants to do that any second.

“Yeah, right. Be on your way.”

He dismisses you like you’re some low lackey, but that, at least, isn’t anything new, and you know how to handle it. You bow politely, then exit the room.

“You really wanna keep her around?” Yoongi asks once you’re gone, and Jungkook groans.

He doesn’t know why he had expected you to break easily. He’d seen you work for Mr. X, do that same shit he makes you do and survive as long as you had, so he should have known you’d be good at it. He supposes he’d been used to you making decisions for him, back then, and had thought that was a normal thing for you, that you wouldn’t enjoy being in the position of taking orders. But you were, after all, just someone who worked for others that whole time.

Not that he gives a fuck about it. He couldn’t care less why you did the things you did. All he wants is to give you a taste of your own medicine. Dangling a false chance of survival in front of your eyes and let you handle the rest yourself. So as long as you push through… well. He’ll let it slide.

It’s not like you can keep doing it forever anyway.

Fred Lucas worries you. He’s always smiled too widely, been too loud, made too many jokes. You know Mr. X considered him to be some sort of buffoon, but also kept his distance from him. Mr. X didn’t like people who pretended to wear their hearts on their sleeves.

“Always a pleasure to see you, (Y/N),” he greets you warmly when you walk up to him and you give him a nod. If he’s upset that Jungkook isn’t there, he doesn’t show it, just like you don’t show your distaste for his use of your first name. “I’d like to discuss with just you, though,” he adds, eyeing Hector, who’s standing beside you. The fact that you still have him by your side is the only good thing that has come from working for Jungkook so far.

You don’t like that. You’re all too aware of the fact that this is his land, and that the only reason why he’s saying that is that Hector is a hybrid. If that gets back to Jungkook, it wouldn’t be good for Fred — but you don’t think he’ll go down without a fight. You glance at Hector, who looks as placid as always and offers no help. The gears in your head are turning fast. Before, you were protected by how indispensable you were considered by Mr. X. That is clearly not the case anymore, but Fred likely isn’t aware of that. Yet.

On the other hand, sending Hector away would show weakness, and you can’t afford that.

“Hector goes where I go,” you say.

Fred’s smile widens even more.

“Of course, of course, can’t trust anyone those days, can you?”

You wonder if it’s a jab at you and how quickly you changed sides, but he is more or less in the same position, so you could just be paranoid.

“Come on, come on in, let’s get ourselves a drink.”

You don’t want a drink, but you do follow him in. The sooner you do that, the sooner you will be out of here.

Fred has a lot of things to say. Most of it isn’t relevant to anything that is happening right now, but you’ve never been able to tune things out. You always worry you’ll miss an essential piece of information. So you listen as he babbles about his business — getting weapons in and out of the city, something he is decently good at — but also about his family, his friendships, and his favorite kind of alcohol. You let him pour you a glass, even if you have no intention of touching it.

“I hear you,” you manage to interrupt him, “but I am curious to know why you wanted a meeting with Mr. Jeon. It seems to me that you have the situation here under control.”

Flattery has always worked on Fred, and you have no issue in using that against him.

“Of course we do,” he gloats. “It’s just— There are a lot of rumorsfloating around those days, you know?”

You do know. You suspect Fred has heard the same things as you. You also suspect most people have been very careful not to let those things reach Yoongi’s ears.

“People are talking about a ‘human opposition’ forming,” Fred gasps dramatically. “Can you believe it? Some people are really not happy about being led by a hybrid.”

That seems to be more concrete than what you’ve heard, which means that Fred could be exaggerating things… or that he was contacted to join that opposition. And you don’t like that second possibility, not at all. You trust Fred about as far as you can throw him, and that means you certainly don’t trust him to not try and play both sides.

“That was to be expected,” you reply calmly. “I do not doubt that Mr. Jeon knew such a reaction was coming.”

Fred narrows his eyes at you, trying to gauge what you knew then and what you know now. Which isn’t much, but that’s not something you plan to let slip out.

“Do you know of anything specific?”

You see from the glint in Fred’s eyes that he knows the game is on. If you know something and he doesn’t tell you, he will look suspicious, but he could also reveal too much, and you doubt he wants to play his cards so soon.

“I— don’t, unfortunately,” he finally says, and you nod. Either he hasn’t heard of the Mystery Room, or he is voluntarily hiding it from you. Regardless, that limits how useful he is to you. “But the word on the street is that Jungkook may not know what he’s doing all that well.”

You send him a sharp glance. He’s taking a risk in telling you that, you both know it. That doesn’t make the information any less precious.

“I see. And, again, I don’t suppose you know where this— ‘word on the street’ is coming from?”

He shrugs, a true picture of innocence, and maybe you’d have believed it if Fred hadn’t been in the business for longer than you. He knew, he just wasn’t telling because he wanted to preserve his opportunities if something happened.

“I have to go, then. Thank you for the drink, Mr. Lucas.”

“Please,” he says, holding out his hand. “Call me Fred.”

That won’t be happening.

“Goodbye, Mr. Lucas.”

Once you’re out, you take a second to collect yourself, Hector following like a shadow and waiting for you silently.

“Is everything okay?” he asks after you’ve mulled over the conversation that just happened for several minutes.

“It’s fine,” you say as a reflex. You couldn’t stop thinking about how Fred had taken a gamble when he’d proclaimed his allegiance to Jungkook. He’d bet on him coming out on top, and yet you didn’t trust it. You couldn’t think of a reason why he would do that instead of carefully waiting to see how things would go, like everyone else. You didn’t like this. Not one bit. “We need to get to Mystery Room,” you add.

“Of course,” Hector nods, gesturing towards the limo, and you don’t bother repressing a groan this time.

“God. That’s so tacky.”

That brings a smile to Hector’s lips, but you don’t smile back. You never do. Instead, you climb in, roll your eyes at the whole thing, and let yourself be driven away. You can’t come to a conclusion about Fred Lucas just yet, but you have no intention of forgetting about him either.

It takes you a few seconds, once you’re out of the car, to understand that something isn’t right. You’ve never been good with feelings — instincts, as hybrids call them — and the air doesn’t feel particularly tense or charged to you. Hector stands a little close to you for comfort, and you piece things together from there. There are a few cars around, but not too many, which isn’t surprising considering it’s the middle of the afternoon. Still, you can hear voices from inside, and you know there’s an argument going on there.

“Let’s go,” you say with a decided nod, and Hector leads the way, shoulders tense, ready to pounce if needed. You trust him to do his job, and that’s a lot, coming from you.

You frown when you walk into the bar, taking a few seconds to let your eyes get adjusted to the lack of luminosity, and that frown only deepens when you hear the argument going on and recognize Jungkook’s voice. God. The concepts of subtlety and discretion are completely lost on him, aren’t they?

Making your way through the room, you try to evaluate the situation. Yoongi is leaning against a table, looking bored out of his mind, though you’re sure he doesn’t miss anything from what is going on in the room. As if to prove your point, his golden eyes flick towards you for a second when you approach, before looking away, clearly uninterested. Other than him, it seems that the only other people present are the owner and various employees. You think it’s stupid and dangerous that they showed up here basically alone but, for the millionth time today, you grit your teeth and don’t say anything.

There are five men around, including the bouncer and a security guard. They’re probably armed, and that’s to say nothing of anyone you cannot see. Outside of Yoongi, though, no one pays attention to you, not until the bartender asks loudly “Mojito, as usual, Miss (L/N)?”

It’s a bit early for that, actually, but you give him a nod. The Mystery Room isn’t quite your scene — you’ve always been one to prefer classy restaurants — but that doesn’t change the fact that you’re well-known here, and everywhere, actually, which is something that everyoneknows, except your own boss. That is obvious by the way people’s attitude shifts when they see you. The owner bows to you politely. You acknowledge it with a curt movement of your chin. Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. He doesn’t look happy about it.

You wait until you have your glass in your hand to say something. The silence that fills the room is heavy, and you can feel Jungkook’s anger emanating from him, having lost the men’s attention. He’s the man who murdered Mr. X, took over half of his operations without anyone noticing, and their fucking boss, and they’re still treating him like a low-life hybrid.

“You haven’t been paying what you owe us,” you say, almost lightly, when you get your drink. “Has business been slow?”

You know it has. You know people aren’t too sure what to think of Jungkook yet. You also know they’ve still made money. Better yet, you’re sure the men in the room know youknow that. You’re giving them an obvious way out. All they have to do is say “yes”, and you’ll come up with something. You won’t let them go off scot-free, but there’s no need for this to end in a bloodbath, either.

“That’s not the issue,” the man says, voice raspy, and you don’t let it show, of course you don’t, but you’re still taking the hit. They’re underestimating Jungkook.

This might be the last mistake they make.

“I think it would be better for everyone if we could work through whatever issue there is,” you say slowly.

Better for them, really, especially because this is you giving him a second chance. There won’t be a third one.

“I’m afraid we don’t, uh, approve of the recent change in direction,” he replies, a stupid grin on his face. He’s mocking you and your infamous overly procedural speech. You know people say you can’t accept who you’re working for, that you can’t take the idea of having blood on your hands.

You may not care, but you’re well-aware of it, and you really don’t appreciate him saying that to your face. You’ll have to make an example out of him.

You sigh and shake your head at his answer. You’re not going to enjoy this. You’ve seen people’s attempts at rebellion against Mr. X, even if those were few and far between, and no matter how much of a fight they put up, it never ends well. For them.

You’re prepared to just leave the place and arrange for it to be set on fire during the night, when Jungkook’s voice snaps you out of it.

“What’s your problem with the change in direction, fucker?”

The mood changes immediately. Hector’s hand on your shoulder gently pulls you back, and Yoongi hops off the table to come stand next to Jungkook, hands in his pockets. He looks nonchalant and relaxed. He could probably easily kill everyone in this room and not get a drop of blood on his jacket.

The owner squares his shoulders and walks up to him. He’s slightly taller and much larger than Jungkook.

“Listen, bunny…”

You barely have the time to widen your eyes at the word, to think about all the ways Jungkook has made it clear that he’s not your typical rabbit-hybrid before his right hook connects with the man’s jaw, so fast you would have missed it if you’d blinked.

A moment of stunned silence follows, during which the man stumbles backwards, hand coming to cup his face in disbelief. And then, he seems to decide that it’s a good idea to retaliate. The dozens, hundreds maybe, of fights you’ve seen Jungkook win flash before your eyes. He doesn’t stand a chance.

People start moving around you, but it seems like it’s only a fistfight. No guns are drawn, for now, and you’re reminded of how much you fucking hate watching people fight. You take a step back, bored already at this stupid display of strength and violence. Still, you can’t help it when your eyes are drawn to Jungkook. There’s a— curiosity within you. How much has he truly changed, in the past two years?

For one, he certainly isn’t pretending this time, isn’t trying to make this fight last for a few more rounds. There iscertain showmanship there, though, you note. He’s giving time for the owner to recover while he takes out some of the other men with hits of surgical precision. He wants them to seewhatever he’s going to do to their boss. Hector and Yoongi keep the fight contained, don’t let anyone escape or call for help, but Jungkook doesn’t need their help. No one here is a threat to him, and it doesn’t take long for the men to be on the floor, groaning in pain.

The owner pushes himself up, spits some blood on the floor. Jungkook turns to face him and beckons him closer with a flick of his hand. He looks amused.

“You fucking piece of—”

This time, Jungkook doesn’t go for the head. His fist gets the man in the ribs, and that first punch is followed by dozens of others, not giving the man any respite, not letting him breathe. When the man falls back, Jungkook doesn’t stop, though the hits slow down, based on what you can see and hear. You have to clench your jaw to stop yourself from grimacing at the sound of flesh hitting flesh, of the bones underneath clashing. It was drowned out, back when he fought in a ring, but knowing it was there disgusted you back. You don’t know why, you just hate it. It makes you sick.

When Jungkook finally gets back up, he hasn’t even broken a sweat. There are five men on the ground, clenching different parts of their bodies and crying out in pain, and he isn’t even out of breath.

“You should fucking reconsider,” he spits out.

They won’t have to. This place will be gone soon enough.

His eyes meet yours as he walks out, and his expression turns to a disgusted scowl. It almost draws a scoff out of you, but you hold it in, and instead, you follow him dutifully.

Jungkook doesn’t speak to you in the car, eyes instead on his bloody knuckles. It will heal fast, you know, and that’s probably why he doesn’t bother taking care of it. When the car stops, you look outside and find yourself faced with your own apartment building. It’s not even five in the afternoon yet. You turn around to give your boss a quizzical look.

“You’re not needed anymore,” he shrugs. He doesn’t sound like he’s playing this time, though you’re still sure that he wants to get on your nerves.

You hate that it’s working this time.

“The day isn’t—”

“I think you’ve proved exactly how efficient you are today,” he says, obviously dismissing you. “I have no fucking idea how you got this job.”

You bite your tongue not to reply. You don’t care about the job, you don’t care about his opinion of you, you barely even care about the Family. You should just nod, give him the usual “yes, Mr. Jeon,” and walk out. But something keeps you in place a little longer than it should, and that’s how much you hate jobs that aren’t well done.

Your voice sounds distant to your own ears when you say what you’re supposed to, your body doesn’t feel like your own when you walk out and close the door. Your breathing quickens while you hear the car leave behind you like it’s all happening in a dream, your head spins, and you stand frozen in place, staring right in front of you.

Is this your life now? you wonder, feeling your heart thumping like it’s trying to get out of your chest. Are you going to let yourself be so disposable, so mediocre, let everything you’ve spent years building fall apart? This isn’t the time for pride, you’re well aware of that, but it’s still eating at you inside.

You walk back to your apartment like you’re in a trance. There’s a heavy weight on your chest, and you realize you have to make a choice. If things stay like that, you suppose Jungkook will have your head at some point. This is a fight of patience. One you cannot win. But if you make yourself indispensable, then maybe, maybe you can survive it. You’ve done it once already.

You brush aside the little voice mocking your reasoning, telling you that you’re doing this because you don’t want to lose your status. Not because it’s wrong, but because you know that’s not enough of an incentive for you to take a risk. You need something stronger than that. Even if you know it’s a lie.

That doesn’t stop your hand from trembling as you dial Yoongi’s number. You’re happy there’s no one to see you, because God, you couldn’t take your carefully crafted facade crumbling right now.

“Yes?” he answers quickly. If he’s surprised to hear from you, it doesn’t show.

“What are the plans for the Mystery Room?” you ask, satisfied that your voice doesn’t quiver, even if you’re a mess right now.

There’s a silence at the other end of the line, and you suspect he’s considering not answering you, so you take the initiative.

“You need to at least replace the owner,” you say, kicking off your shoes. “You can convince him to sell to us,” — convince, one of your favorite euphemisms — “or get rid of him and get the place from his family. Burning the place down is also an option. We can’t let what happened slide like that.”

“Hmm,” Yoongi says.

“Also, it would better if Mr. Jeon could avoid fighting with people. The last thing we want is people who think they can challenge him.”

“He can take them.”

“That’s not the issue. If people think they have a chance, they’ll keep trying. We don’t want them to do that.”

Another, longer silence.

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because he’ll listen to you.”

“And you think I will listen to you?”

You roll your eyes. It’s strange, you know you’re gambling your life right now, but the tension you were experiencing earlier has been replaced by an eerie calm. You feel detached from everything.

Maybe you’ve been doing this for too long.

“You don’t have to,” you say, “but this is my job. I’m good at it. If you just let me do it, it would be far more efficient than whatever has been going on for the last week. I know you don’t trust me, but you can probably come to the same conclusions as me in this situation at least.”

Your heart is hammering in your chest. This is an explicit critique, something you would never have risked with Mr. X, and it’s the most open act of defiance that you’ve ever done — and it’s to convince them to let you workfor them.

“We’ll see about that,” he replies dismissively, and your shoulders fall at first, but then he adds, almost reluctantly, “I’ll take what you said into consideration.”

“Good. We also need to talk about tomorrow’s meeting. I’ve gotten some important information about the opposition to Mr. Jeon, and I think—”

As you explain the situation to Yoongi, you feel yourself calming down. Maybe it’s because you’re doing something that’s familiar to you, you’re not sure, but you can breathe again, and that solidifies your conviction that you’re making the right decision.

Finally, you’re ready to take back your life.

Tag list: @chaiwivluv @mintyrae @btswdwsmhrdt @xxquenwxtchxx @fekitza @kimmieloveswho @deeepvibes @lonleycoffee @gookiebts @kpop-baka @taecallsmenoona @mimiinluv @dabbingangels @jooahchu

[king-finnigan]

16. prison AU, and 86. I didn't mean to turn you on, geraskier fic

Read at your own risk lmao. Contains some nsfw. (But with a prompt like that, can you blame me?)

***

Geralt had expected many things when he had been hired as a prison guard. He had expected fights, he had expected insults thrown at his head, he had even expected riots.

What he hadn’t expected, was standing in the recreation room for hours on end, watching as prisoners read books, watched reality shows on the tiny tv, and drew. Of all things, Geralt had been most surprised about the drawing, really. It hadn’t really seemed like a thing grown men did in prison, but as it turns out, it’s as good a hobby as any.

So, he stands there, arms crossed in front of his chest, in the corner, mind wandering to the matter of what he’ll have for dinner tonight, as he keeps one eye on the prisoners, the other on the clock. It’s nearly 5, which means he has about two more hours left of his shift. 

The prisoners eat at 6, he knows, so he’ll probably either be stationed in the dining room, or he’ll have to patrol the halls to make sure no one’s doing anything potentially illegal.

He sighs a bit, as the minutes tick by, slowly but surely. His attention is caught by one of the inmates, Jaskier Pankratz, he remembers. Here because of manslaughter. Stabbed a guy in the neck with a broken bottle for insulting him. Only convicted for manslaughter and not murder, because he did not plan it for a single second, though the judge did give him an extra long sentence - deemed him emotionally unstable, apathetic, and likely to reoffend. The young man will be lucky if he gets out of here in the next thirty years.

Shame, really, Geralt thinks, as he looks at the young man drawing... well, something, Geralt’s not really sure what it’s supposed to be, as it looks like a bunch of scratchy lines in random colours, but he’s sure that if he were to ask, the inmate would give him a longwinding explanation about how it represents his situation or some shit like that. They always do when he asks.

He sighs again, shifting from foot to foot a bit to relieve the pain in his legs from standing still so long. It is a shame, that Jaskier will likely spend his remaining days here. He’s so young, quite good-looking, and clever, too. He would’ve had a bright future if he hadn’t been such a little monster. There’s a reason why Geralt reads the file of every new prisoner that arrives, and Jaskier is the perfect example: if Geralt hadn’t known about the gruesome crime the young man had commited, he would’ve let his guard down around Jaskier.

After all, he thinks, as he looks at the way the tip of Jaskier’s tongue pokes out between his lips, as he concentrates, it’s so easy to be charmed by the young man’s good looks and silver tongue, by the facade of innocence and naivety he puts up.

Geralt blinks, and suddenly he realizes that Jaskier is staring right back at him, blue eyes curious. The guard clenches his jaw when the young man shoots him a wink, and he looks away, trying and failing to stop heat from rising to his cheeks. He shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t be giving the prisoner any wrong ideas - whatever they may be.

He startles a bit, shaken from his thoughts, as his walkie creaks, the monotone voice of his supervisor telling him he’s on patrol duty for the rest of the shift.

He risks one last glance at Jaskier, and sees bright blue eyes looking right back. He fixes his gaze on the wall opposite him.

---

The noises from the dining room are dulled in the hallways as Geralt walks through them. Of course, there is no one else in sight, all the other guards either in the dining room or on the other side of the building, all the inmates eating dinner.

He sighs to himself. Just half an hour more, and he can go home. He just has to bear thirty minutes more of this boring nothingness. He can do this.

He stops in his tracks as he walks past the door to the recreation room. He frowns, as he sees someone on their hands and knees on the floor, searching for something under the table.

Well, really, hands and knees is a bit generous. The guy’s shoulders are practically on the floor, ass in the air almost invitingly, for lack of better word, as his hand sweeps under the table.

Geralt walks into the room, rounding the man, who looks up at him. He meets brilliantly blue eyes and a cheeky grin, and, combined with the... compromising position Jaskier’s in, it makes heat pool in the pit of Geralt’s stomach.

He frowns, shaking the thoughts he definitely shouldn’t be having away. “What are you doing, inmate?”

Jaskier looks back down, frowning in annoyance as he takes one last look under the table, before crawling to the bookshelf Geralt is standing next to, looking underneath it. “A pencil. A yellow one, to be precise. Rolled off the table, earlier, and I can’t find it.”

“You should be at dinner.”

Jaskier looks up again at Geralt, grinning widely, eyes sparkling. “I know. But yellow is my favourite colour, and I really want that pencil back.”

Geralt rolls his eyes. “You’ll find it tomorrow, now get up.”

“Alright, alright.” Jaskier sits up on his knees, wiping the dirt off his hands. He looks to the side, right at Geralt’s crotch. “Oh,” he breathes, “I could get used to this sight.”

Geralt blinks, mind crashing and burning as he tries to process what Jaskier’s just said. “What?” he manages to choke out.

Jaskier looks up, all cheeky grin and sparkling blue eyes. “Oh, my bad.” He looks down for a second, then back up, gazing at the guard through his lashes, something changing in his face that sets Geralt’s skin on fire. “I could get used to this sight, sir.”

Geralt swallows thickly, heat definitely starting to pool at the bottom of his stomach, and he knows he’ll probably have to relieve himself in some quiet corner after this. “Get the hell up,” he bites out.

Jaskier pouts up at him, but does as he’s told after Geralt staring him down for several seconds. The inmate’s fingers brush against the side of the guard’s leg, as he finally gets up, blue eyes glinting with something dangerous that makes adrenaline pump through Geralt’s veins in a way that isn’t entirely unpleasant.

“Oh, dear,” Jaskier mutters out, when he’s finally standing up, looking down at the obvious tent in Geralt’s trousers. “I didn’t mean to turn you on, sir.”

He feels anger course red-hot through his veins, along with the adrenaline and arousal, and he snarls at Jaskier, pushing the young man to the back and to the side, pressing Jaskier’s back against the wall. “I suggest you stop this right now.”

“Or what?” The young man stretches his neck out, nose brushing against Geralt’s, his breath ghosting over his lips teasingly. “You’ll punish me?”

Geralt grunts in surprise when Jaskier slings his leg around him, the inmate’s heel digging onto the muscles at the back of his thigh, pulling him closer. 

He can’t help himself, not in this position, as he plants his palm against the wall next to Jaskier’s head, taking in the way the wicked grin turns into a small gasp of pleasure when he grinds against the young man, their cocks brushing against each other through the layers of clothing. Jaskier is insufferable, and Geralt would like nothing better than to ruin this facade of cockiness and self-confidence, to reduce the young man to panting moans and whimpers as he comes undone.

Infuriatingly enough, Jaskier seems to know that, as the wicked grin returns to his face, though his pupils are blown wide, almost completely taking over the blue in his eyes. “Please, sir, have mercy on me.”

And Geralt can’t stop the low rumble that escapes his chest at the way Jaskier purrs the word ‘sir’ into his ear. He noses at the young man’s neck, teeth clamping down softly on his pulse, grinding against Jaskier at the same time, earning him another shuddering moan.

The reality of what the hell he’s doing hits him when the noise from the dining room become less and less muted, the other inmates done eating dinner. He pulls back from Jaskier with a few trembling steps, taking in a shaky breath.

He points at the young man. “Don’t tell anyone,” he hisses.

The inmate chuckles, all dark eyes, sweaty, brown curls and rosy cheeks. “Wouldn’t dare.” 

Geralt can see a glimpse of a wink, before he turns around, stumbling out of the recreation room.

---

He has to pull himself off in the bathroom to get rid of the arousal coursing through his body; quick and dirty, groaning into his palm as he comes. Still, even after that, he can’t get rid of the images that keep flashing through his mind every time he blinks, can’t get rid of the wave of heat that spreads through his body at the memories.

Rosy lips, blue eyes, blown pupils, sweaty, brown hair sticking against flushed skin, nimble, wandering hands, a silver tongue.

He pushes the thoughts away, heading to his locker when his shift finally ends. He rushes out the door without as much as a goodbye to his colleagues, slamming the car door shut behind him, driving home way too fast, well over speed limit.

Once he’s finally home, he closes the door behind him, leaning against it. He presses his palm against his forehead, feeling the heat that resides just under his skin, ready to be awoken the second he thinks about Jaskier.

He sighs, walking to the bedroom, taking off his uniform. He puts his gun in the locker next to the bed, reaching for the key badge he always wears on his belt.

He freezes when his hand finds empty air.

Fuck.

The little shit’s stolen his badge.

[nymphigeon]

From me, to you || 06

♤ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

♤ Genre: fluff, angst, romance, hybrid au, hybrid!Taehyung, detective!reader

♤ Words: 2.9k

♤ Rating: PG-13

♤ Warnings (for this chapter): Mentions of hybrid abuse, mention of murder, mentions of gambling.

Synopsis: A story in which he has never known love, so you’ll give it to him.

Series masterlist

05 06 07

The walk back to Taehyung’s cell was uneventful. I was scared Ella would be waiting for me around the corner, ready to scream at me all over again. Luckily though, she was nowhere to be seen.

Taehyung didn’t really say anything anymore about our talk, just silently walking in front of me. Some colleagues passing us gave me weird looks, as if they knew what had happened. Well, seeing your supervisor angrily stomp to her office might be a dead giveaway something went down.

“Taehyung?” Again, when he entered his cell, no words were spoken. He simply went to sit on the bed and stared at the ground, not even acknowledging my presence. Even now as I try to grab his attention, his gaze stays fixed on the grey coloured ground.

“You haven’t eaten a lot since you got here right? Wait, I’ll go get you something.” I turn around in the direction of the small kitchen, not really planning on waiting as I’m not expecting a response. My expectations aren’t met however.

“No need.” Short, but clearly stating his desires. Or rather, lack of desires. “I insist. It doesn’t take a detective to figure out you must be hungry.” I don’t look at him as I speak, still facing the destination only a few steps away.

“I know that talking about it must’ve reminded you of that time, brought up feelings you forgot about for a while. They were the past back when I rescued you of the street, and they’re still the past right now. Nothing changed.”

A memory of Taehyung scarfing down food because of my tears pop up. It causes a tiny smile to appear on my face, even though at the time it wasn’t the happiest moment. “Should I start crying again?”

It’s said as a joke, something to lighten the mood. A light chuckle coming from behind confirms it worked. “I won’t hesitate to call you a baby this time.” I can’t see him, but I can hear the smile in his voice.

We’ll be able to laugh at this in the future. Looks like that’s true.

“Hey, it’s a good thing to let out emotions, bottling them up causes stress and discomfort!” Putting my hands on my hips, I take on a defensive stand. The one where I defend my statement, not to fight, fortunately.

“Sure miss smarty pants. Go get me some of that delicious prison food.” If I wasn’t so relieved that he finally accepted to eat, I would’ve probably defended my cooking skills as well. Contrary to the others working here, I actually can cook without burning everything I touch. Now that is what I call an achievement.

“Of course, Your Highness.”

“Ella, I need to speak with you.” A familiar voice pushes its way through the door. One that I haven’t exactly missed, but looked forward to hearing from nonetheless.

She’s direct, rough sounding. The normal politeness her words usually contain gone, most likely together with her respect for me. Not that she can show it, as I still hold all the cards, though it sure would be fun to see her try.

Whether her directness was born out of her growing disdain towards me, or out of the confidence she built knowing the answers to my questions is unknown to me. I don’t really care, it doesn’t matter with the position I’m in.

The position I got by being harsh and unforgiving. Throw your sympathy out of the window, just focus on whatever you need to find out. The way you do so is unimportant as long as you succeed. It’s the exact attitude she screamed at me for. The exact attitude she’s giving me right now. Perhaps she is more useful to me than I thought.

“Do come in.”

With no hesitation the door opens and she steps into the room. Her expression is different from the typical kind determined face she wears around the office. The kindness has gone, replaced by something else.

I’m curious as to what she will tell me. Will I be left disappointed? I didn’t count the option that she might just come beg me to keep her. Reckless of me.

“I found the guy.”

Disappointed I am not. Then this is most likely jealousy. Jealousy for the way she found what I failed to acquire myself. Though that’s just half of it. The other part is joy.

“Now this is interesting, tell me about it.”

She nonchalantly throws the device she had been holding at me, the recorder I left in the room with the hybrid the other day. First, my sad attempt, and second her who effortlessly got what I couldn’t. “You can take a listen at that after we’re done, it contains all you need to know.”

That I will do, but I don’t say it out loud. Simply nodding, I motion for her to go on. Just get straight to the point, I’m not satisfied until he is behind bars.

“The guy’s name is Lee Ji-hyun, who, according to Taehyung, is a popular gambler. Presumably that’s the way he got enough money for a tiger hybrid. Found his name on a few gambling websites, completely unlawful if I may add, which confirms that.”

Not only did she find him, she also figured out that wherever he went for his money, the places aren’t supposed to be there. I never asked her for any more than that guy’s name, and instead of one, she brought me two cases to work on, one easier than the other. I’ll worry about the easy one later.

“According to our records he got arrested for drug use a few years back, but got released due to too little evidence.” That makes things easier. At least we already know something about him from the investigation back then, we won’t have to start from square one.

“Great work, I’m impressed.” Praise encourages people to work hard, makes them even more useful to me. Why figure things out myself, when I can boss others around to find it out for me?

“I need access to the World Hybrid Register and a search warrant. I don’t just want to catch him for murder. The signs of hybrid abuse, hybrid dealing, illegal gambling and drug use are also there.”

Again, as direct as she can be. She isn’t asking me, neither is she ordering me. Stating what she needs with the underlying expectation she’ll get it. Normally that would give her a one way ticket out of this place. Normally.

“Sure.” The determined face she was wearing crumbles into a look of shock. The underlying expectation I thought I heard had been completely faked, and I fell for it.

“Wait, really? Just like that?” She seems happy. Everything about her posture exuded confidence when she walked in here. Now I’m beginning to think the entire thing was one big act. One that she played perfectly.

“Yeah. I’ll make sure to get you whatever you need. I trust you know what you’re doing?” It must be apparent how I’m nice when you do as I say, not so nice when you go against me. Apparently a great leader listens to those lower in the ranks, however my superiority complex holds me from doing so.

“Always.” It’s back. The sweet smile playing on her face brings back the kindness she walks around with. The one I thought was her weakness. For once, I was wrong.

“Great. Go send me the details over email, I have stuff to do.” My sentence ends in a sigh, not feeling like going back to the old boring work I was busying myself with before her arrival. Whether I like it or not, I have to. There are still people holding power over me, I can’t decide entirely on my own.

“Of course.” With that she excitedly bounces out my private room. A type of excited I don’t show, but definitely feel.

Let’s see what you’re capable of Y/N.

It wasn’t even 24 hours after the talk with my supervisor that I got an email inviting me to the World Hybrid Registration Centre headquarters. The organization has offices al around the world, keeping tabs on who all own a hybrid, who aren’t allowed to own one, who has had a warning before, etc. They basically just make sure the hybrids are treated well and kept healthy.

I’m not exactly surprised they’re okay with my checking the system, as this is just as much their concern as it is ours, but I am surprised at the speed in which they replied. Known to be extremely busy since the hybrid owning trend blew up, a reply is usually days to weeks after the first email has been sent. Even for the police it can take a couple of days for them to come back to you.

Immediately after I’ve completely read the email I shut down my computer and pack my bag with whatever I may need. I don’t tell any of my colleagues that I’m going, as I know at least one of them will offer to come with me. There is no need for anyone else though, I prefer to go on my own.

The address is way out in another town, causing a two hour drive I’m not looking forward to. Reminding myself of the poor hybrid back at our office and the extra money I’m getting paid, I gain the necessary encouragement for the long trip. At least I’m doing this for someone.

The parking lot is completely full when I arrive. Expensive Tesla’s and huge Mercedes’ litter the place as if the pay is ten times higher than mine. If I would take a second to think it would seem logical, since even the cheapest of hybrids are still mad expensive, and part of that money goes to the people registering everything. Besides that there’s also the hybrid tax, of which, again, a part goes to these workers.

Stepping out of my extremely out of place looking car, I make sure I properly lock the door before walking inside the building. It’s not hard to find the front desk, with it being the first thing you come across after having been blown in the face by the warm air coming from inside.

“Ah, Y/F/N Y/L/N, thank you for coming on such a short notice. I’m sorry it had to be on the same day, we didn’t have any more room for appointments until next month.” The rather old looking lady behind the desk smiles my way with an apologetic look on her face.

“It’s okay, don’t worry. I’m actually glad I was able to visit this fast.” The lady nods and takes off her glasses after typing something into her computer. “It’s our pleasure. We too got really concerned after we heard about the multiple offences.”

There is a hint of sadness to be heard in her voice. Coming across hybrid owners is quite rare where I live, as nobody has the funds to do so. Most people will just curse at the rich and despise anything that has to do with them, including hybrids. Seeing someone who truly cares about them is a nice change.

“You personally wanted to check the information we had on this hybrid mentioned in the email, correct?” The lady, who stood up from her chair a few seconds ago, rounds the desk to stand in front of me. In her hand she holds a card attached to a string that goes round in a loop.

“Yeah that’s right. It’s suspected the hybrid has been neglected, so we just want to know the origin of the hybrid, when it has last had a check-up, things like that. I just need a copy after that and then I’ll be on my way.”

Not knowing whether I could fully trust all the workers here on giving me the right information, I decided to come check everything out myself. It’s said that even here not everyone fully supports hybrids, with the worst stories claiming some are even trying to bring the organization down from inside.

The registration centre has tried to calm the accusations down by stating they check all the workers regularly on their hybrid views in extensive programs, but this was never verified by any other source other than themselves.

“Great! This pass will give you authorization to any room you may wish to enter and on the back is a code to access any systems. One of my colleagues will be with you at all times, but in case you wish to enter places yourself you can use this.”

With one of her hands she beckons me to crouch down to her level. When I do, she carefully places the string around my neck and makes sure it isn’t cutting into my skin, before pushing me to stand back up again.

“Eun-ji! Can you escort this lovely lady around please?” The newfound nickname startles me, not having expected something like that. She clearly doesn’t seem to notice though, keeping herself busy with making sure Eun-ji knows all the details of her upcoming job.

The place is a lot more confusing inside than it looks from the outside. Long hallways with doors to rooms everywhere, stairs in spots you wouldn’t expect them to be and dead-ends in places I was sure looped around in circles. If it wasn’t for my nervous guide, I would’ve definitely already been lost.

“And here we have one of the registration rooms. We fill in all our paper work into the system and make sure everything is updated, although most information just comes in digital nowadays, so all the binders placed in the corner don’t really have a function anymore.”

The room just consists of a bunch of computers with huge monitors screwed to the walls. Right now there is absolutely no one here except for the two of us, but a few of the monitors are still turned on. What a waste of electricity.

“Would you mind if I search the system now?” I already have permission to do so, though my kind nature refuses to just start typing without a heads up. “Of course, that’s what you’re here for after all.” Eun-ji lets out an awkward giggle while fiddling with her fingers. She’s clearly uncomfortable, even though she does her best to hide it.

I don’t waste a second, immediately sitting down behind one of the computers. The system isn’t too hard to navigate, the simple search bar being the only tool I need.

Name owner: Jihyun Lee

Name hybrid: Taehyung…

“Is it needed to fill in everything? I don’t know the hybrid’s last name…” I mentally slap myself in the face for never having asked his full name. Even his file back at the office just has his first name, and nobody ever questioned it. Perhaps we all just assumed he didn’t have one.

“Just fill in whatever you do know. Most hybrids take on the last name of the owner though so you could try that.” In the little time I’ve been staring at a screen, Eun-ji has made it her mission to put as much space between me and her as possible, pretending to be busy doing something at the other side of the room.

Name owner(s): Jihyun Lee

Gender owner(s): Male

Name hybrid: Taehyung Lee

Gender hybrid: Male

Hybrid animal: Tiger

That’s how far I can fill it in. The following bars needing a hybrid type, hybrid identification code, adoption centre, all clog my brain with question marks. The little information I can fill in reminds me of how there is not much I actually know about Taehyung.

Realizing there is nothing else that I can do, I click the search button and wait for the results to come up.

Nothing.

Huge letters on the screen apologize to me, suggesting that I may have made a mistake in whatever information I gave. A breath of air escapes my lips as I sigh and delete Taehyung’s last name.

Still nothing.

“Could it be that I’m doing something wrong? No results are showing up.” Going back to the main screen I try to figure out if perhaps I used the wrong tool, but nothing suggests that I have.

“Okay wait, let me see.” Eun-ji hesitantly comes closer when I stand up from the chair, only sitting down when I’ve moved back a few steps. “What’s the name of the guy?”

“Lee Ji-hyun, or well it’s first name, last name right? Then Ji-hyun Lee. Wait, should I have used a hyphen?” While I’m still trying to come up with what I may have done wrong, Eun-ji quickly brings up a list of people.

“There are a few males with that name owning a hybrid around the world, though since we know he lives here we can narrow it down to one country. What type of hybrid is it?” She doesn’t look at me as she asks, though as soon as I answer her head slowly turns my way.

“You’re sure it’s not just a striped house cat? Or, I don’t know, another predator hybrid instead?” Disbelief is written all across her face. The nervous look she has been wearing got replaced by furrowed brows, obviously going down a list of animals that may look similar.

“Yeah I’m sure. They’re not forbidden right? I would’ve known.” I can’t understand the confusion written across her face. Sure wild animal hybrids are expensive, but that doesn’t mean nobody owns them.

“No not forbidden, I mean they’re hard to come across sure, but…” Eun-ji’s hesitance is making me nervous, something is off. Something that I’m definitely not going to like.

“Miss, this hybrid doesn’t exist.”

Taglist

@suhappysuho @intellectualxprincess @sana-b @littlewolfieposts @nellaphine @daisychwe @deathkat657 @elenaramos1

[nightkitchentarot]

The Secret Of The Quiet Mind

FROM THE ATLANTIC -- JUNE 17, 2021

I Know the Secret to the Quiet Mind. I Wish I’d Never Learned It.

Of all the injuries we suffered, mine is the worst. My brain injury has shaken my confidence in my own personality, my own existence.

By Hana Schank

The worst things can happen on the most beautiful days. My family’s worst day was a perfect one in the summer of 2019. We picked my daughter up from camp and talked about where to go for lunch: the diner or the burger place. I don’t remember which we chose. What I do remember: being woken up, again and again, by doctors who insist on asking me the same questions—my name, where I am, what month it is—and telling me the same story, a story that I am sure is wrong.

“You were in a car accident,” they say. But this cannot be. We’re having lunch and then going on a hike. I had promised the think tank where I work that I’d call in to a 4 p.m. meeting.

“You are in Dartmouth-Hitchcock Hospital in New Hampshire.” Another ludicrous statement. I started the day in Vermont. Surely if I had crossed the river to New Hampshire I would know it.

“What’s your name?” they ask me, and I tell them and tell them and tell them.

“Where are you?” “New Hampshire,” I say, except for one time when I say “Vermont.” “New Hampshire,” they correct, and I want to say, “Really, we are so close to the border here, can’t you just give it to me this once?”

“You were in a car accident,” they tell me again. “Your husband broke his leg and your son broke his collarbone.” These do not seem like horrible injuries, so I am waiting for the worse news, the news that my daughter is dead. She is the youngest and the smallest. She was born with albinism, and her existence has always felt improbable, and so now it must be over.

But—thank God—it’s not. “Your daughter has fractures in her spine and damage to her lower intestine from the seat belt.” They tell me that my lower intestine was also injured, and that I’ve had surgery. I lift up my hospital gown and am surprised to see an angry red line and industrial-size staples. I remember an article I’d read about seat belts not being designed for women, and I ask the doctor if he sees more women with these injuries than men. I have yet to take in the reality of what has happened to me, to my family. Instead I am thinking about writing an exposé about the sexist seat-belt industry.

They wake me up and ask me where I am and what my name is. A doctor asks me who the president is. “I don’t want to say,” I reply. He smiles. I am at Dartmouth for three days before I am transferred to the University of Vermont, where my husband and children are. The days pass like minutes, a loop of sleep interrupted by people asking me questions and telling me terrible things.

One of the things I am told is that I have a brain bleed and a traumatic brain injury. I wonder if this is why I am slurring my words, but am told that the slurring is from the anti-seizure medication I am on. This sounds good. The slurring will stop. A doctor tells me I “got my bell rung.” This is a bad analogy. Bell clappers are meant to slam against the side of the bell. The brain is not meant to slam against the side of the skull.

Of all the injuries my family is suffering from, mine is the worst. This is my totally biased opinion. My husband’s leg will take almost a year to heal. My daughter would have died if not for the surgery to repair her flayed abdomen. She is 10, and one of her friends tells her that because of the scar she will never be able to wear a bikini. She spends many days attempting to suss out whether she cares. She doesn’t yet know if she is the bikini-wearing type.

My 13-year-old son is the only one who remembers the accident. He remembers a woman in a ponytail calling 911, the smell of gasoline and burnt metal. He remembers his father yelling “Jesus Christ.” He will have to live with the memory of his sister looking at my body and asking, “Is Mama dead?”

These are terrible injuries, and yet, the other members of my family don’t walk around thinking, Am I still me? My brain injury has shaken my confidence in my own personality, my own existence. This is the worst injury.

When we leave the hospital and move into a hotel, I frequently get lost in the hallway. The first time I roll into occupational therapy with my walker, I am grateful for the obvious signage pointing me toward the check-in desk. It’s almost as though the clinic is expecting people with brain damage.

My therapist is a smiling, 40-something woman with dirty-blond hair. She reminds me of me before the accident. She asks if I am having any thinking problems or memory problems. I tell her about an incident with Parmesan cheese.

“Can you get the Parmesan?” my husband asked.

I opened the fridge and looked. I looked and looked.

“I can’t find it,” I said with a shrug.

My son opened the fridge and pulled out a block of Parmesan.

It hadn’t occurred to me that this was a brain issue. Sometimes you just can’t find the Parmesan. Right?

A test confirms that I have trouble scanning a visual field for objects. My brain is struggling to recognize what I see, but without a pre-accident baseline to judge from, there is no way to know how much worse I am at it now. Have I always been bad at finding things? Maybe? There are limits to how well an injured brain can scrutinize an injured brain.

I have other visual-processing issues. At first I can’t watch television because my brain is unable to merge the images from my two eyes, so I see doubles of everything—two Phoebes, two Chandlers. I can watch with one eye closed, but I’m distracted, seething at my brain for failing to do such a simple task.

In one session, the therapist tells me we are going to play a game. She pulls out a deck of cards and asks me to turn cards over while saying the number or the color or the suit. The game is so difficult, I want to physically remove my brain from my skull and hurl it against a wall. I will never play this game again as long as I live.

Eventually I graduate from occupational therapy. But occupational therapy isn’t about getting people back on their feet so they can return to think tanks. It is about making sure they can run errands without getting lost. I am someone who has always taken pride in my intelligence, and now I am not so smart. I am just a functional human being, according to occupational therapy.

When we go out in public as a family, we are a walking nightmare. “Wow,” a stranger says, marveling at the device that is bolted into my husband’s femur. And then my son appears with his arm in a sling, my daughter limps over in her back brace. An injured couple is potentially funny. There is nothing funny about an injured family. “What happened to you guys?”

When we tell the story, we explain that we were in no way at fault, which feels important. We wore our seat belts and drove the speed limit and the weather wasn’t bad and yet this happened to us. Someone was driving a pickup truck in the opposite direction. He was late to a job interview or to get his kid, or maybe he was just antsy. In front of him was a motorcycle slowing him down. Maybe he’d been behind that motorcycle for miles. Maybe he liked to take risks. He pulled into our lane and passed the motorcycle while going up a hill at 70 miles per hour. I don’t know who makes this kind of decision. Did he think, I can’t believe I did something this stupid? Did he also yell “Jesus Christ”?

Because we are not at fault, accident feels like the wrong word. Not just wrong, but unfair. My husband starts calling it the incident, but an incident is a small thing, not something that scars you for life. The smashing? The destruction? Newbury, after the town where it occurred? The only thing that comes close is the devastation.

The devastated me is different. My brain used to race, making lists and plans, skipping from an article I was researching to whether my kids were in appropriate after-school programs to what vacation we should take in February. Now it does none of that. There are no plans to make.

A few days after regaining consciousness, I check my Twitter feed. I have always been a news junkie. But I have missed nothing. The news seems to be not just familiar but actually repeating itself. Something bonkers happened in the White House. People are dying in a country I’ve never been to. A company did something possibly illegal. There was a house fire in the Bronx. Are these the things I used to care about?

The most interesting piece of news is the one I am experiencing. In the hospital we are waiting to make sure my daughter can poop through her reconstructed colon. This article isn’t in The New York Times.

When we return to New York I take the subway to doctor appointments. I don’t take out my phone, I just sit. My brain is quiet, which I find suspicious, but also soothing. Before the accident I went to yoga retreats and tried meditation. I said things like “I just need to unplug.” Apparently what I needed was to get hit by a truck. Perhaps I have discovered the secret to a peaceful mind, and it is traumatic brain injury. I fantasize about opening an expensive spa where busy people pay me money to whack them on the head with a baseball bat.

The day of the accident I had been working on a project to improve how homeless people are placed into shelters. I say out loud, “I don’t care about homeless people” to see how it feels. It doesn’t ring true; I do care about homeless people. I just don’t feel like working. I have always been a regular exerciser. Now I can’t imagine wanting to do a burpee, let alone 10 of them. I always ate healthy things. But did you know that you can eat whole grains and still get hit by a truck?

I have strange cravings. I think about apple cider all the time. Apple cider is not a normal part of my diet. I have a very detailed dream about eating chocolate cake. I eat the cake. That’s the entire dream. I find myself foraging in the fridge for flavors that don’t exist.

I don’t know which symptoms are permanent and which are temporary. At first, the doctors say that after a year or two I’m likely to have a full return to my normal brain function. Or not. They don’t really know about the brain. It might be more like 95 percent. If I broke my elbow and someone told me I’d get 95 percent of my elbow function back, I’d be satisfied. But 95 percent of my brain function sounds terrifying. Which pieces will be missing?

Some days I feel like myself. Other days all I can think about is the old life that is gone. Then, halfway through my recuperation, the coronavirus comes. The stores close, the schools close, the traffic on the avenue dwindles to a sporadic whoosh. And my busy friends who were always texting me about their crazy schedules are suddenly as quiet as I am. Together we wait for normal to return. The difference is that they know what normal looks like.

In July it will be two years since the accident. The world is now coming back to life, my days slowly filling up with work and chores and exercise. Soon I will go back to in-person meetings and travel, and I wonder: Will I be up to the challenge? Or will I get lost in office buildings and airports?

For now, in this liminal space between the old life and the new one, I often catch myself staring at my children. They have never been more beautiful. I chalk this up to the magic of braces––their teeth are finally coming into alignment––but I know this is ridiculous. They are beautiful because they are alive. I look at them, and I sit with the silence. Today, it is mine. Tomorrow, it may not be.

[johannas-motivational-insults]

I for one was seething while Ms assh... Weaver basically confirmed to her designed punching bag that she keeps her around because she's a decent emotional support for Adora, so... wanna go even deeper and stab the reader s'more?

Oh I love stabbing the reader. And I love this scene so I’ll do the whole fuckin’ thing. (Commentary is bolded.)

This scene really is heartbreaking. It was easy for me to write, though, because Catra and (Shadow) Weaver have a very particular dynamic that I vibe with. It's such a pivotal scene for Catra too, because it confirms her fears that her success would be met with pushback and that Weaver really doesn’t love her or care about her at all. It makes her feel dehumanized both in the sense of being treated as subhuman and being treated as a tool. Something to be kept around only so long as it’s useful, discarded the second it’s not. This is the moment when she learns for certain just how little she means to Weaver and it’s painful to read.

*Content Warning for abuse*

The sound of keys in the front door makes Catra frown in confusion as she unloads the last of her books. No one is ever home this early. Even when Weaver doesn’t have any sponsored clubs or other teacher bullshit to deal with, 3:15 is the earliest she ever gets home.

But Catra’s always had sensitive ears, and those are definitely Ms. Weaver’s footsteps crossing the floor. When the woman pokes her head into the kitchen, no doubt to investigate the smell, Catra gives her a jerky nod. “Went to work after all?”

“No, I had some errands to run,” Weaver replies flatly. “Lying around all day like a lazy sack of meat doesn’t come naturally to me.”

Me @ Weaver:

Bitch she’s baking cookies, she’s clearly not lying around all day. Why you gotta be like that?

“Yeah, me neither,” mutters Catra, deflecting the obvious implication.

“I have something for you,” says Weaver, and Catra can’t help but look up in surprise. Weaver tosses her something and she instinctively moves to catch it. Just before it hits her hands, she realizes what it is and her stomach drops. Fingering the rough edges of the rolled up newspaper, she tries to breathe steadily as she forces her eyes up to meet Weaver’s. (Oh gotta love that trauma response.) The woman looks more unimpressed than predatory right now, but Catra knows better than anyone how that can change at the drop of a hat.

“Looks like your little ploy paid off,” she remarks.

Sighing, Catra sets the paper down on the table. “I told you, it wasn’t a ploy. Just a play.”

“I see. And I suppose the fact that this article was written by a close friend of yours is a complete coincidence.”

LOL clearly Weaver knows nothing about Entrapta if she thinks she could be bribed into writing something she doesn’t believe.

“I had nothing to do with that,” Catra denies swiftly. When Weaver’s expression doesn’t change, she insists, “Really, I swear.”

Weaver’s head tips the slightest bit, that familiar predatory tinge seeping into her eyes and voice. “And why should I believe you?”

Catra huffs, arms crossing defensively over her chest. “Why would I do something I know would get me in trouble?”

“I don’t know, Catra, you tell me,” says Weaver, slowly closing the gap between them. “It’s not as though you’ve been doing that your entire life.”

Me @ Weaver:

Like okay, it’s kinda true. But still.

Tensing more with every step Weaver takes, Catra raises her hands innocently, trying and failing not to shift her weight to her back foot. Not to give ground or show her fear. (This is making me super uncomfortable so I’m probably just gonna keep memeing at you all. Yes, I am aware that this is my fault. No, I am not sorry.) “Look, Entrapta has really strong opinions, and they’re always backed up with facts. I couldn’t just plant the idea in her head to write something like this.”

“Facts, you say?” muses Weaver. She reaches past Catra in a very deliberate show of invading her space, and Catra can’t help but suck a quick breath in through her teeth. But Weaver doesn’t touch her. All she does is pick up the paper and turn it over in her hands as though she is deep in thought. Then the motion stops, her eyes snapping up sharply. “So you agree with her.”

Weaver @ Catra:

“That’s not what I said,” protests Catra, her exasperation showing through her tenuous attempts at staying calm. “Stats are facts, not who deserves what awards or whatever. It’s not like I even care about that.”

Weaver shakes her head, her chuckle positively dripping with condescension. “Oh, now I know you’re lying.”

She is. She really is. And the fact that Weaver knows how much Catra cares and wants praise and approval and still denies her that makes me want to slap a bitch.

Also I just realized how closely this scene parallels the one in 1x04 and that actually wasn’t intentional but I’ll take it, clearly I’ve got the spirit of their relationship down.

“No, I-”

The newspaper smacks Catra across the cheek and she yelps in shock and pain, hand flying to her mouth.

It shouldn’t be a shock, not after 14 years of this shit. It still is, every time.

Ugh, ow.

“Enough of your lip,” hisses Weaver. “You know better than to contradict me.”

Hate is not a strong enough word for how I feel about this woman. Unfortunately there are too many people just like her. I’ve noticed the audience particularly hates this incarnation of Shadow Weaver and I think it’s because when she’s stripped of her magic the tactics she’s left with are far too familiar. I feel the same way.

Catra’s tongue swipes along her stinging lip, checking for blood. It comes back clean, but the lack of physical damage does nothing to calm the quiet rage boiling up inside of her. Weaver has never treated her with an ounce of respect, and now she has the gall to hit her with a rolled up newspaper like she’s a fucking animal. Subhuman. (I mean this feeling comes straight out of Demons but with Catra being human in this au it’s... not worse, definitely not, but it hits differently.) Catra’s fists clench and her chest puffs out as she straightens up to her full height (even if it’s nothing on Weaver).

“Do not touch me,” growls Catra, her voice low and dangerous in a way few people have ever heard it. “I’m an adult, that’s officially illegal now.”

Oh, you sweet summer child.

“Oh, you want to talk about the law?” counters Weaver, sounding far too calm in comparison. It just makes Catra angrier. And maybe a little scared. Somehow Weaver always makes her feel out of control, which never ceases to remind her who is in control. (Oof.) “I am under no obligation to let you live here, Catra, let alone at a significant discount. I do that out of the kindness of my heart. (LOL the what now?) Would you rather I throw you out in the streets like the stray you are?”

Yay for another insinuation that Catra is an animal. Nice going, Weaver.

Also, that is one of the meanest fucking lines I’ve ever written for Shadow Weaver and that’s saying something.

Those words hit Catra right in the gut, a blow far more painful than any physical one. They trigger a flood of other words that always seem to find her, stick to her no matter how she tries to slough them off, prove them wrong. Stray, nuisance, brat, worthless, unwanted, unloved...

But she was loved once. She was.

Oh boy, get ready for PAIN. So I wasn’t orginally planning to write this flashback but then I got a Very Bad Idea and I love torturing my readers (and myself) so this happened.

Kneeling in front of the open door, Papi opened his arms for a goodbye hug. When Catra stepped into them, she felt his smile against the side of her head. “Te amo, mija.”

“Yo también te amo, Papi,” said Catra, tiny arms tightening around his neck with a proud grin. He hadn’t taught her that one, she’d pieced it together on her own.

Papi chuckled in surprise and approval, ruffling her wild hair. “You’re a genius, little one. You know that?”

“Yep!” she answered, beaming with the completely earnest confidence only a precocious three year-old can muster.

Baby Catra’s behavior may be slightly inspired by my highly intelligent four year-old niece, who is also biracial with a multilingual father.

A couple playful taps of the horn from the driveway interrupted them, making Papi chuckle once again. Pulling away enough to look Catra in the eye, he winked conspiratorially. “Better not keep Mommy waiting. You know how she is.”

Catra shook her head soberly in agreement. Mommy was notoriously impatient, a speed demon on the road. Catra loved driving with her, laughing like a maniac from the backseat whenever she’d swerve and cuss out the idiots in her way. Those cackles never failed to make Mommy shoot Catra a smile in the rearview mirror, her transitory rage melting away in an instant at the sound. Still, it was never good being on the receiving end of that impatience.

(Catra’s mother is not at all inspired by my sister, however. She drives like a fucking granny.)

Papi quickly pecked Catra on the cheek before standing and waving goodbye, giving an appreciative nod to the babysitter as he pulled the door shut behind him.

He didn’t close it loudly or anything, but no sound is louder in Catra’s nightmares. She never saw either of them again.

“Answer me, Catra,” Ms. Weaver demands sternly.

That was what she had. And this is where she ended up.

Yeah, no wonder this version of Catra just assumes anything good in her life will be taken away. In some ways it might be worse than being Adora starting with nothing, because not only does Adora not remember what she lost in infancy (which wasn’t great to begin with), she has been steadily moving up in the world since. Catra’s had the opposite trajectory.

Suddenly noticing the tears rolling down her cheeks, Catra swipes them away with the back of her hand. Her throat hurts too much to swallow, so she doesn’t even bother trying to settle her voice. Her weakness is already on full display, anyway. Shaking her head, she whispers hoarsely, “No, Ms. Weaver.”

“Good,” Weaver says with finality as Catra sniffles, blinking back more tears. “You still live under my roof, and you will abide by my rules or face the consequences, just like anyone else.”

Oh boy, that’s a little too close for comfort. Again with this version of SW feeling especially despicable to the audience because it’s so familiar.

Just like anyone else. Sure.

Yeah you’re right Catra, go off.

As Weaver starts toward her room, Catra half-heartedly tosses a hand with an empty, resigned sigh. “What rules did I break this time?”

Weaver turns back, her expression dangerous, but Catra can’t muster the enthusiasm for fear anymore. Her eyes are still burning, voice tight with emotion as she confesses, “I’ve tried, Ms. Weaver. I-” Her voice cracks and she shakes her head, pinching her brow in shame. “I never wanted you to hate me.”

brb crying in the club

K but honestly the helplessness here is just heartbreaking. And it’s just like in canon. We saw, Catra did try to be a good soldier and make Shadow Weaver like her, but it was a lost cause. I mean I didn’t pull this dialogue directly from 2x06 but it’s a similar flavor for sure.

When Catra dares to look back up she finds that Weaver’s expression has softened slightly, though she still looks annoyed. “I never said I hate you,” she says, the uncharacteristic gentleness catching Catra off guard. “You’re just more trouble than you’re worth most of the time.”

It shouldn’t be a comfort. But it is, anyway. It is. Catra sniffles again, dipping her head to wipe her eyes on her shoulders.

The fact that this is a comforting answer to Catra is so fucked up and tragic but so befitting of their relationship.

“Though I will admit, you do have a way with Adora,” concedes Weaver, her tone very nearly impressed. “Not everyone can handle someone like that and keep them on task. I’ve had plenty come through my classroom.”

Wow, so we’re just being casually ableist now? Nice.

My thoughts exactly, Catra.

...Ableist and pragmatic.

Catra snorts under her breath, shaking her head as her eyes fall to the floor. How did she never put this together before? “That’s why you’re letting me stay.”

This truly is a gut punch moment. She thought maybe Weaver actually had a bit of affection for her or was invested in her future after all (which tracks for Catra because she is mean to the people she likes) and that’s why she let her stay, but no. As usual, it’s all about Adora. That is not going to bode well for the resentment moving forward.

“She does badly with her routine being disrupted, and she’s come to rely on you,” states Weaver, tipping her head in acknowledgement.

“Plus she’d hate you if you kicked me out,” Catra adds pointedly.

Weaver smiles, all teeth. “It is better for everyone this way, wouldn’t you say?”

Better for you, you mean.

“Sure,” mutters Catra. When that response earns her a look, she corrects herself. “Yes, Ms. Weaver.”

Eyes narrowed into slits, Weaver warns her, “Make no mistake, Catra. Adora would manage if you left us. If your behavioral issues begin to outweigh your usefulness, I reserve the right to evict you.” She cocks an expectant eyebrow. “Am I understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” mumbles Catra.

Poor Catra, I just...

“I care very much about Adora, and I won’t have you dragging her down with you.”

“I remember,” Catra says numbly, picking at her nails and avoiding Weaver’s gaze.

Ooooooooooof. Why do I insist on hurting myself so much with all these canon parallels?

Studying her intently for a moment, Weaver concludes, “Yes, I’m sure you do.” Then she turns and leaves without another word.

Well that was lovely. Anybody else want to reach through the screen and throttle a bitch? ‘Cause I sure do.

This scene doesn’t cause an immediate reaction on Catra’s part but it definitely moves her to a place where she’s very aware of her role and how useless it is to try to change it (at least in this house), and that makes everything a little more volatile. She’s not at a breaking point yet but she’s getting closer, it certainly takes the wind out of her sails a bit. She will recover in the short term because she is Catra and her stubbornness makes her very resilient, but it weighs her down and eventually she is going to snap. Y’all will love that, I’m sure. ;)

[feel199x]

CLOUD NINE; CHAPTER VII

I II III IV V VI VII m.list

street racer!minho, god/demi-god!minho

warnings: swearing and maybe a teeny bit of angst?

a/n: ITS HERE !! ITS HERE !!!!

 You sat there for a while, staring at Chan, who stared at you.

“What-,”

“Shut up, Chan.”

 The truth was, Minho had gotten under your skin, and you knew that was the goal from the beginning. You clenched your fists, turning your attention to the very bright day, unlike any other that week. You could feel him smirking, you just knew that he was so pleased with himself. And now, you had gotten yourself in too deep. You crossed your arms, the anger only rising up.

 “Chan.”

 “Oh, now you want me to speak?”

 “Do you,” you cleared your throat, “do you know where I can get a motorcycle?”

  He responded with a deep sigh, “I’d be able to get one, but why are you even doing this?”

  “Well, I’m doing it because of spite, and,” you got up, “because I want to wipe that stupid smirk off of his face.”

 You took your bag, and shoved all of your books and papers in them, for once not caring about organizing them and agonizing over the state of your notes. “Let’s go. We don’t have that much time.”

 Chan obliged, for reasons you didn’t know, but, in the end, it was just important that he was. You walked outside, and while leading him, you realized something.

 “Wait, Chan, where are we going?”

 Chan smiled, “I was waiting for you to realize that.”

 Your pace slowed, and you came back to the side of Chan. His pace went more natural, as he was keeping up with your running. He paused for a moment, turning to you, “Hey, _____, are you sure you want to do this?”

 You looked at Chan, dead in the eye, with your fists clenched, “I’m going to wipe that shit-wating grin off his face if it’s the last thing I do,” you looked up at the clear sky, and you would’ve been happy that the weather cleared up, if it wasn’t for Minho, “And, you’re gonna be there. You’re gonna help me.”

 “I am?”

 “You are.”

 You furrowed your eyebrows, “I know that it’s better for me not to pay attention to him, but I just want to show him once and for all, that he’s not as cool as he thinks he is. And then, it’s like he won’t even matter.”

 “You could’ve done it by taking tests or something, I’m not so sure about illegal racing.”

  “It’s the only way to make him shut up. I’m gonna crush him. Got a bike?”

  “I got Minho’s old one he didn’t have the heart to throw away.”

  You smiled, “Perfect.”

  Chan got in his car, and although you didn’t know what kind it was, it appeared to be a very expensive, luxury car.

 “Aren’t you just a teacher’s assistant?”

 “I got side hustles, babe.”

 You shrugged, “It’s a nice car.”

 You felt slightly out of place in the car, and a wave of realization hit you. Maybe it was a little unrealistic to learn how to ride a motorcycle, and then race on one, with people who have been doing it for quite some time. But it couldn’t be that hard, right? You know how to ride a regular bike, and it can’t be all that different. 

 Turns out, it was slightly different.

 Life moves fast on a bike. 

The first time, you got a little ahead of yourself. Chan had brought out the bike, and you’re mature enough to admit when you’ve done wrong. You knew you looked stupid when the bike sped up and you fell onto the ground, the bike crashing into a nearby tree without anyone to steer it. But you were thankful enough that Chan didn’t laugh at you.

 “You know, _____,” Chan smiled, “You have to be on the bike to ride it.”

 But he wasn’t above making a joke, apparently.

 You sighed, dusting the dirt off of your butt. Chan had brought you to a country road not too far from his house. You marched off to get the bike, and once you were at the tree, you picked the bike up. You sighed, closing your eyes. Throwing your legs over the bike, and clenching your hands around the handlebars, you opened your eyes. 

 And then you were going.

 You don’t think you’ve ever felt so in control in your life. You don’t even know how you were doing it. Your mind was just blank, thinking of nothing but the road ahead of you. You drifted, sending some dirt flying and you slowed as you reached Chan.

 “Where’d you learn that?”

 You shrugged, “It’s like a regular bike. Just faster.”

  Rolling your shoulders back, you straightened both the bike and your posture, “Time me, okay?”

 “Do you think you’ll be able to tell your way around? You’ve never been around this trail before.”

 “I’ll figure it out, it’ll circle back around eventually.”

  Chan pursed his lips, taking out his phone, “Just be careful okay?”

 “I’ll be fine. You ready?”

 “Time’s going!”

 You set off suddenly, with almost an uncomfortable amount of speed. The machine under you was humming, content with the power it had. Driving the motorcycle gave you a previously unknown amount of ease. The feeling was just so much different than anything you had ever known. You circled around, coming back to Chan and stopped.

 The only thing that came close to it was being with Minho.

You shook your head, shaking off the mental image of Minho riding his bike. You took off your helmet and looked at Chan. “How’d I do?”

 “Fifty three seconds.”

 “Is that good?”

“It’s incredible.”

“But?”

“You’re still an amateur, riding on pavement is different from dirt.”

 You threw your head back, running your hand through your hair, “How fast would Minho be able to do this trail?”

 He looked at you, almost smiling, “Fifty three point one seconds last time we were here.”

 “Which was?”

 “Yesterday.”

 You jumped off the motorcycle, and did a little dance. The smile on your face was stupid big, and you felt your face ache. Chan shook his head, something knowing behind his smile, “C’mon,” he spoke again, “Go again, see if you can beat your time.”

 Second way around? Fifty seconds.

 Third? Forty eight.

 Fourth? Thirty nine. 

 On the fourth time around, you got off the bike. “If this is where Minho practices, shouldn’t he be here?”

 Chan shrugged, “He’s probably at the bar or something, or hanging out with some friends, playing card games.”

 “Oh,” you scrunched your eyebrows, “He doesn’t practice the day of the race?”

 “Nah.”

 “Hm.” you held Minho’s old helmet at your side which smelled like the conditioner he uses, but you brushed off the nostalgia, “Show me. I want to go.”

 “You’re a stubborn one.”

 You smiled, “It’s the only way to get anything done.”

 Chan led the way in his car, and you trailed behind him on Minho’s old bike- scratch that, this was your bike. And then, he parked right in front of your workplace.

 Huh.

 You stationed your bike, putting down your helmet. You felt almost ecstatic. Like you were on cloud nine. You contained the energy and walked into the bar, realizing you had never really paid any attention to what it looked like inside.

 It was actually kind of nice, in a trashy kind of way. 

The neon sign blinked outside and the leather seats inside were worn down. And as soon as you and Chan entered, your eyes met Minho’s. A wave of surprise quickly rippled across his face, and then an explicit smugness set in to replace it.

 “Fancy seeing you here, _____.”

 “Heard it’s where the racers hang out.”

 You sat at the booth, next to a boy you didn’t recognize. He smiled at you, saluting you with two fingers from his forehead, “Hey, I’m Jackson. Saw you at the race last time, didn’t Minho leave you to get arrested?”

 “Yeah, he did.”

 Minho pursed his lips, “Mistakes happen.”

 “Yeah,” you smiled sweetly, “Like you.”

 “Oh man,” the group of boys laughed, and Jackson threw his arm around you, “damn, Minho, she really came at your neck like that.”

 Minho opened his mouth and closed it a few times, trying to decide if he wanted to say what he was thinking, “Yeah, wouldn’t be the first time, and it won’t be that last time. I think,” Minho paused, smirking, “it’s her second favorite body part to come at.”

 You sucked your teeth, “Only in your dreams, bitchass.”

It was a weak retort, you were aware, but it was enough to make everyone change the subject. Jackson took it upon himself to shuffle the deck, and deal.

 “You playing?” he asked.

 “Nah, I’ll just watch this round.”

 Card games weren’t your thing, money was tight and you didn’t like the risk of the whole thing. And the amount of money on the table made you uncomfortable. You turned, suddenly remembering Chan, but not finding him anywhere.

 “Chan left, ___,” Minho said.

 You nodded, looking up at him when you felt his gaze come off of you. He had changed clothes from when you had seen him. His hair was slicked back, out of his face. He wore his signature dangly earring, a white shirt. Even in the bar lighting, he looked incredible. Your gaze lingered even after he met your eyes for a moment, and in that second, that glimpse of time, you saw the real Minho. 

 God, even you could admit that you missed him.

 He turned away, and you looked back at the game. You don’t know how, but Minho had won the round. And, as you watched, you won at least a third of the rounds. Minho watched the faces of all the boys, and his cards. But his face revealed nothing, you had no idea what he was thinking of. But whatever was going on in his mind, it enabled him to win. 

 Time passed, and you had gotten the gist of the game. But that didn’t make you confident in your ability to win. Each time Jackson dealt the cards, he asked if you wanted to play, and you politely declined.

 Maybe next time. 

 But soon the time came, and the group of racers dispersed to attend the race. You rode without the companionship of Chan. You pulled out your phone, calling him once you got to the lot. 

 “Where are you, Chan?”

 “Side hustle, ____. Something came up.”

 “Three in the morning?”

 “Three in the morning. Listen- I gotta go. I’m fine. I’ll call you later.”

 You furrowed your eyebrows, but the worry was replaced as Minho pulled his bike up next to you.

 “You don’t have to do this, _____.”

 “I’m going to.”

 “It’s dangerous.”

 “Anymore dangerous than riding on the bike with you?”

 “I’d never let anything happen to you.”

 “We’ll talk later, Minho.”

 It was time. It was finally time, and the adrenaline made you dizzy. You had to pay a racing fee, and it made you nervous, but you dropped two hundred- the minimum- and pushed your bike to the line. A girl you didn’t recognize walked out into the street, holding a bandanna high up in the air. 

 “All right racers, you know the drill, one lap around the city, Fastest gets all the money, champion of the week.”

 You pulled your helmet on, turning to look at Minho, who was already facing you. Some racers revved their engines, others faced the road in silence.

 You stared at the road ahead of you. One lap around the city. You could do it, you could beat Minho. 

 “Ready? Set. Go!”

 And before the bandana hit the floor, you were off. You didn’t pay attention to anything else, your awareness becoming full of only the city lights and the feeling of the pavement under you. The hum of the machine under you was music to your ears. You and the machine moved in sync, it tilted and drifted with you, following the motions of your body. It was something else, being in control of all this speed. It almost felt like too much. 

 You heard the engines of some behind you, but it didn’t faze you, all you did was look ahead. Just keep going, that’s all that matters. Minho was in front of you, pushing his bike to it’s absolute limit. You weren’t worried though, it was about patience. Precision. Minho didn’t have that. 

 But you did.

 Making the loop around, you could see the distant girl from before, her arms raised. Minho was no more than a foot ahead of you. And you pushed your bike, you felt faster than light as all the colors blurred and became a watercolor mess, blending into one another. 

 Your body stopped the bike before your mind could process was going on. You turned, your bike suddenly going quiet as you rested next to the girl.

 She raised her bandanna, “First, the rookie! Second, our beloved Minho! Third…!”

 In your fucking face, Minho.

[jokertrap-ran]

[Stand My Heroes] 聖夜を奏でる♪ Symphonic numbers (Performing the Holy Night ♪ Symphonic numbers) Event Story: Part ② Translations

*Sutamai Master-list *MC name is retained default Izumi Rei *Scenario Writer: @eno_bara (榎戸乃ばら) *Kurisu Masuo Charisma Suoh…I see what you did there coly ww

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Special Stages

⋆⋅☆ Kujo Mansion: Living Room ☆⋅⋆

Kaname: And Koya-kun says that he watched your Shampoo CM.

Kirishima: Tell him that he was really dashin’! And help me ask him how he made his eyes sparkle like that.

Kaname: —Yeah, see you.

Kirishima: Ah, he hung up?

Kaname: Kyosuke-kun and Hikaru-kun are going to the Concert on the 24th. Tell him yourself then.

Kirishima: For real?

Shindo: What an unusual crowd is going to be gathering.

Kaname: Seems like they’re going because Tsuduki-san got the green light to gather references there.

Kujo: I see. So he contacted you because he knew that we were the one of their backers?

Kaname: Yup.

Miyase: Oh! I’ve just thought of something good.

Kirishima: What is it?

Miyase: How about we invite them to the party since we’re all going to be there?

Kujo: Brilliant.

Miyase: Do you agree to it too?

Kaname: …I don’t mind; not particularly, anyway.

Miyase: I’ll do my best to whip up all the food then.

Shindo: Looks like this we’re having another unnecessarily lively Christmas again this year.

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Streets ☆⋅⋆

MC: (Phew…we ended up getting off late again.)

When I speed-walked to the Station——

???: Oooooi, Rei! Get on in!

Rei: (Hm?)

I turned around upon being called, noticing a familiar face waving from behind an open window of a car, stopped by the roadside.

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Inside the Car ☆⋅⋆

Kirishima: Is it cold in here?

Rei: Nope, it’s warm.

Kirishima: I see.

Rei: Thank you so much.

Rei: It’ll be a great help if you could send me all the way back, but are you sure about this?

Kirishima: I was just on my way back from running an errand for Kujo-san, and I was just in the mood to go for a drive.

Rei: Sorry about this…I’m really beat to be honest, so thank you.

Kirishima: That’s good then. I’ve got something I wanna talk to you about too, so nice timing!

Rei: What about…?

Kirishima: We’ll be holding a Christmas Banquet on the 25th so Kujo-san wanted to extend an invitation to you too!

Rei: A Christmas Banquet…

Kirishima: Could it be that you’ve already made plans?

Rei: Rather than plans, I suppose it can be called work…in a sense, but that’s how it is.

Rei: I’m really glad to be invited, but…

Kirishima: I see…So you’re busy.

Rei: (Ahhh, my heart hurts when I see him so disappointed like a kicked puppy…!)

Rei: I apologise. Can I put my invitation tentative or will that be an inconvenience?

Kirishima: You can just take as long as you need. Even if you barely make it on the day itself.

Kirishima: Miyase’s all hyped up making tons of food.

Rei: I want to eat his cooking!

Kirishima: Don’t push yourself too hard at work, okay? I hope you come to the party.

Rei: Yes! Thank you so much!

Rei: You too, Kirishima-san! Be sure not to catch a cold or anything like that!

Kirishima: ‘Course! I’d only make Kujo-san worry if I’m not healthy during Christmas!

Rei: (Seems like everything and everyone are already in Christmas-mood except us down in the NCD.)

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Investigation Planning Headquarters ☆⋅⋆

It was only on the next day, that the Investigation took a big step forward.

Imaoji: Seki-san, has that information been checked over?

Seki: Yes.

Seki: Kurisu bought drugs from the dealer in Club R and used it before continuing with his night life.

Seki: That’s why we’ll call him out on his way back and intercept him then.

Seki: That’s the plan we’ve come up with after all the prior investigations we’ve carried out.

But the new information from his Ace was that, “Kurisu didn’t do drugs at all when he was out enjoying his night life”. Therefore——

Yui: Then, why was he buying all those on a schedule…?

Seki: That’s because…

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

——A few days ago.

⋆⋅☆ Concert Hall ☆⋅⋆

Makoto: ——I see. So, there’s a difference in practicing in a Hall and in a Studio.

Kurisu: Yes! I’d get even more into it whenever I practice in a hall!

Kurisu: The sound’s different, you see. For example, the violin. Are you aware of this, perhaps?

Kurisu: It’s sound like mm~♪in a studio, but nnnn~~♪in a Hall.

Makoto: ——I apologize. Amateurs like me can’t tell between such subtle differences.

Kurisu: Ahaha! It’s all OK, all’s good♪Because I’ll show you how different they are now!

Makoto: (He’s someone who’s always full of energy, but he seems to be way more excited than usual today.)

Makoto: (…Actually, his eyes seem to be sparkling strangely…)

Kurisu: Now, my lovely Orchestra! Are all of you ready!?

Kurisu: Let us descend into the lovely world of music!

Seki: ——Pardon me.

Kurisu: !?

Makoto: You guys…

The Orchestra members all looked uneasy as a buzz filled the air at sudden entrance of the Outsiders. Kurisu’s face paled as a sheet as Seki questioned him.

Seki: Kurisu-san, you’re under suspicion of possession and usage of Illegal Drugs.

Seki: ——According to our Information, you use dangerous drugs whenever you do music, more often than not.

Makoto: ——!

Seki: Could I ask of you to cooperate with our Investigation?

Kurisu: …I see~ Alright. I’ll cooperate with you.

Rei: Then, may I check your personal belongings?

Kurisu: What you’re looking for is over here.

It looked as if a lightbulb had clicked in Kurisu’s head as he opened something that resembled a Conducting Baton’s Case——

Aoyama & Yui: ——!

A bucket’s worth of white powder fell from within.

——And now, back to reality.

Makoto: I’m with the NCD right now. I’ve also gotten arrested.

Kyosuke: “ARRESTED——!?”

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Investigation Planning Department ☆⋅⋆

Makoto: I’ll contact you again once I’ve been released.

Aoyama: Released…?

Makoto only calmly sipped at his coffee after he ended his call.

Rei: Makoto-san…please don’t say things like that; It’ll only invite more misunderstandings.

Rei: We only wanted to ask you some questions.

Makoto: I just wanted to try using the word “release” in relevance to my current situation.

Makoto: I just thought that I’d never have another chance to do so in the future if I didn’t take the opportunity now, when it presented itself.

Man: Ahaha…

Seiya, the Concert Master who seated beside him, only laughed bitterly at that.

Apparently, it looks like the Concert Master was responsible for “Rounding everything up” when it came to anything concerning the Orchestra. You could say that he’s a Conductor-player, if anything.

Seiya: Uhm…So, how long do we have to stay cooped up in here, exactly?

Aoyama: We’ve already heard whatever you have to say, so you’re free to leave.

Seki: Thank you so much for cooperating with us.

Rei: Thank you so much!

Seiya: Ahh, is that so. That’s great to hear…Everyone in the Orchestra’s really worried.

Rei: (Oh, that’s right. Their Conductor was suddenly arrested and taken away in the middle of their practice, so they must have been pretty shaken up about it.)

Makoto: It doesn’t look like I can gather the material I need in this situation.

Seiya: You must have it rough too, Sensei. I’ve got to think of something else, now that I’ve lost my Conductor…

Seki: You have my deepest condolences.

Seiya: Thank you…Actually, I’ve been thinking about this for quite a long time now, but…

All Three: ?

Seiya: All the guys down in the NCD look astonishingly dashing.

Aoyama & Seki: Wha——

Rei: (That’s what caught his attention!?)

Seiya: Man, I thought that I’d have gotten used to being around such good men after having spent every day seeing Kurisu-san around recently.

Seiya: But Seki-san and Aoyama-san both have a manliness about them that would make even top Kurisu-san’s own.

Seiya: I’m really, REALLY, in the mood to play a Violin now! I feel like this will make for a really nice tune!

Seki: R-Right…

Rei: (I wonder if all musicians are all that emotionally sensitive…)

Yui: ——Seki-san. About Kurisu, Imaoji-kun’s Investigation seems to be going smoothly in that field.

Seki: I see, that’s good——

Seiya: PINK HAIR!? AND NOT TO MENTION, ANOTHER DASHING ONE!?

Yui: Huh…?

Seiya: HA!? I apologize for being so loud.

Rei: (Seiya-san…)

Makoto: (How interestingly curious…)

Seiya: No— Really, all the beauties are being gathered here, in one place.

Seiya: So good, that I’m almost tempted to ask you to take Kurisu’s place as the Conductor to draw in the same crowd that his good looks would have inevitably drawn.

Rei: (Just for that reason…?)

Yui: What in the world is he talking about…?

Makoto: ——I see.

Rei: Huh?

Makoto: The NCD suddenly turning into Orchestra Conductors? Now… that’s interesting.

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Investigation Planning Department ☆⋅⋆

Makoto: ————

Aoyama: (……? I don’t know why, but I feel like…he’s staring an awful lot at me…?)

Makoto: (The Narc’s Ace, Aoyama Itsuki.)

Makoto: (——If he were to be the Replacement Conductor…)

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Aoyama: ——Stop. I’ve already repeated myself countless of times, but this isn’t getting any better. Is it that difficult?

Aoyama: I’ll play the Violin so listen well to how I do it.

Aoyama: ——♪——♪♪♪——♪♪——

Player: ……! He’s way better than me! I’ve just lost all my confidence!!

Aoyama: Huh…?

Player: Rather, normal people like us cannot just manage to do everything like you high-spec people do on the drop of the hat!

Aoyama: Yes, I do understand that I’m on a different level from the average joe. Therefore, it was in my intention to do this properly and stand as everyone’s equal here.

Aoyama: How about you first tell me what you’re able to do? …Wait, what can you do?

Player: There it is; that’s what I was talking about.

Aoyama: ……?

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Makoto: (…That didn’t turn out very interesting.)

Makoto: (Since he’s an Ace, he might be much more suited to be the Concert Master than a mere Conductor.)

Aoyama: (Why is he staring so intently at me with such a poker face?)

Rei: (Makoto-san…?)

Makoto: (Next will be him…)

Seki: ……?

Makoto: (The reliable Section Chief of the NCD, Seki Daisuke——…)

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Seki: ——Yes, everyone’s doing brilliant.

Seki: Especially the Violins, it was a pleasantly beautiful sound.

CRAAASH!!

Seki: !?

Percussionist: WHOA!? ALL THE VIOLINNISTS HAVE FALLEN PREY TO THE CONDUCTOR’S SUGAR-SWEET WORDS!

Seki: Eh…?

Woodwind Player: Hey…you’ve…got to be…kidding…Even the guys are down for the count!?

Brass Player: THE CONDUCTOR’S WAY TOO HANDSOME, I CAN’T CONCENTRATE AT ALL!!!!

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Makoto: (…Maybe it’s because I read the original work of the Love-comedy movie that Kyosuke’s going to be appearing in; my imagination seems to be oddly geared in that direction of things, for some reason…)

Seki: Uhm…?

Makoto: (He’s up next, I guess.)

Yui: ……?

Makoto: (The NCD’s most Inquisitive and talented brain when it comes to Research, Yui Kotaro——…)

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Yui: No, all wrong, that’s not it! Violins! You’re causing Arteriosclerosis with that!

Yui: More——! We need more, if we’re going to make for a nightfilled with bloodshed!

Yui: Cymbals! More violent actions! Treat is as if you’re having Sympathetic Nerve Reactions!!

Player: W-What is he talking about!?

Player: He’s super, duper, hard to understand…!!

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

Makoto: ——Pft!

Yui: ! What’s with him?

Rei: Um, Makoto-san? Is everything alright there?

Makoto: I had thought that it’d be interesting to see all of you NCD people as Replacement Conductors, but——

Makoto: I think that’s impossible, after all.

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Investigation Planning Department ☆⋅⋆

Seiya: Of course, it was just a little joke of mine.

Seiya: To an Orchestra, a Conductor is akin to their heart, or a Piero, at times.

Seiya: It’s precisely because we’re not high-leveled individuals that we can’t just simply pass the reigns over any Conductor just on the drop of a hat like that.

Yui: I won’t do it even if you asked.

Seki: Yui.

Yui: …Sorry.

Seiya: Haha. Looks like I’m the only one with a long history running, as things are looking out to be.

Seiya: I was also introduced to other people, so don’t worry about it.

Makoto: Does that mean that I can still continue gathering the data I require?

Seiya: Of course, if that is what you wish.

Makoto: That’ll be a great help. I’ll be in your care again.

Seiya: I suppose this must also be some sort of fate. Please come by to watch us on the 24th, if you’re free.

Yui: A Orchestra Concert on Christmas Eve?

Aoyama: That doesn’t sound bad at all.

Rei: Now that things have come down to this, I’m kind of interested in seeing how the performance turns out.

Seki: We’d gladly attend once the case with Kurisu-san calms down. We’ll be supporting you.

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ Streets ☆⋅⋆

Rei: (I’m finally walking the streets at the usual time I get off from work. That feels kind of new, now.)

Kaname: ——Big sister?

Rei: Oh, Kaname-kun? Hello.

Kaname: Are you on the way home now?

Rei: Yup. You too?

Kaname: I’m on my way back from the Bookstore. I checked where this particular book was stocked and that was the only Bookstore that had it.

Rei: I see. What a coincidence.

Kaname: ————

Rei: ? What’s wrong?

Kaname: …Do you have some time next weekend, big sister? It doesn’t matter even if you’re only free in the night.

Rei: Next weekend——?

─────────────────────────⋅…⋆⋅☆

⋆⋅☆ In a certain Room ☆⋅⋆

TV: “Uh— Now, continuing on! This will be the follow-up report on the Dashing Conductor, Kurisu Matsuo!”

???: SHUT UP!!!!

???: Shut up, shut up, shut up! I’ll never forgive you…! How dare you arrest my Mats!?

???: I’ll never acknowledge a replacement! A Concert without Mats? I’ll destroy it…!

───⋅𝕿𝖎𝖑𝖑 𝖓𝖊𝖝𝖙 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖊…⋆⋅☆

[mostlycompetentwriter]

It’s All About The Game- Part 1

Freshman Year

Pairing: OC x Seo Changbin (Stray Kids)

Genre: High School AU, Enemies to Lovers, Sports Fiction (basketball, man!)

Warnings: None (at least for this part)

Word Count: Almost 13,000

Summary: Kayda Reynolds is an introverted and highly intelligent student who has trouble making friends and prefers a quiet existence amongst her classmates. However, her life is about to become a lot more interesting when she accidentally captures the attention of her high school’s all-star basketball player, Seo Changbin.

Notes: My new series is officially here! Just for the record, I am indeed mostly competent because I totally forgot how driving laws work (as in, I’m in college now and I can’t remember the process I underwent to get my learner’s permit/license)... There might be some disparities but they don’t really affect the story itself. 

Freshman Year 

August

My first impression of Seo Changbin was incredibly unfavorable. The school’s all-star basketball player was extremely arrogant, egotistical, conceited to the point where he couldn’t see past his own obnoxiously handsome countenance, and terribly unlikeable. This might be difficult to concede when you consider the masses of students who follow him around like he’s some sort of bonafide celebrity. But I knew it had more to do with his handsome looks and wealthy upbringing as opposed to some sort of appealing personality. 

In fact, everything about Seo Changbin screamed expensive from the brand name Velour pants he insisted on wearing to the unnecessary Dior sunglasses perched attractively on the brim of his nose. The thought of paying more than a dollar or two for a decent pair of glasses was practically haunting for someone who was lucky to eat out once a month. But I’m sure Seo Changbin got whatever he wanted because his family was able to afford the finer luxuries in life courtesy of their pompous real estate business. 

Of course, I want to firmly establish that I am in no way jealous of Seo Changbin. On the contrary, I feel sorry for someone who can’t even realize that their popularity stems from the most materialistic means possible. I mean, he’s a good basketball player, and I’ve heard rumors that the men’s Varsity coach was heavily scouting him. But, as a basketball player myself, that’s the extent of the compliments I would ever allow.

And I remember the first time I ever met Seo Changbin because he had just transferred to our middle school. Everyone was talking about him, and I was curious myself because I had never seen any of my classmates so excited to welcome a potential transfer. But on the first day of tryouts, when the girls and boys were forced to share the gym together, I figured out why the others wouldn’t stop talking about the mysterious boy.

You see, Seo Changbin might be contemptuous, but not without due cause. The young athlete was an outstanding ballplayer, moving up and down the court with impossible speed. He could shoot from every point on the floor and held some sort of record for most steals in a single game. It was intimidating, to say the least, and I finally understood why everyone was so enamored.

I remember watching Changbin from afar while the rest of us ran through our drills. And I, of course, didn’t know him very well, so my naive adolescent self was not aware of the nasty attitude hiding beneath that impressive talent. But it would be the first and last time I ever made that mistake.

“Let’s scrimmage the boys,” our coach had randomly suggested to which we all groaned in complaint. “It’ll be good for you,” she insisted, blatantly ignoring our protests.

“It’s embarrassing,” one of our players whined. The poor girl had a crush on one of the more popular members of the boy’s team, an impeccable shooting guard who hardly ever missed a point.

Regardless of our input, both coaches made the arrangement and I found myself bringing the ball up the court while staring down the school’s newest recruit. Now, I don’t want to sound self-deprecating, but sixth grade was not my shining year as a basketball player. I had only started playing the year before and, despite my substantial progress, I wasn’t very good. But nothing could be more demeaning than repeatedly finding yourself on the receiving end of Seo Changbin’s impeccable ability to steal the ball from right under your hands, leaving you behind in the dust as he coasted the court to score countless layups because of your incompetence. Not to mention the one time I attempted to block his layup and the arrogant asshole left me lying on my ass after lowering his shoulder (which was, and still is, heavily illegal) to make a shot.

After that practice ended, I quickly left the gym before any of those horrible boys had the chance to mock me for my failed efforts. And from that day on, I worked relentlessly to become a better player, fixing my fundamentals and building a steady foundation to improve my abilities as a point guard. Nevertheless, the humiliation stayed with me, providing a haunting presence every time I messed up during a game and watched a rival player steal the ball or block my shots.

And it might not be fair to blame Changbin since he was just playing the game, and I initially gave him the benefit of the doubt, but he proved just how despicable he was the following day at school. You see, I can recall standing at my locker to exchange textbooks, mindlessly occupied with an assignment weighing heavily on my subconscious. Suddenly, without any sort of warning, the devil himself slammed my locker shut, leaning against the wall while wearing an evil smirk. “Did you enjoy getting your ass kicked yesterday?” the newcomer taunted me, glancing back at his new friends who laughed at the comment.

I attempted to ignore him, re-trying my combination, but Changbin simply pressed his hand against the door. “I asked you a question.”

I let out a tired sigh. “Please don’t.”

Changbin sneered and I knew I had made a fatal error by not walking away when the opportunity had first presented itself. “Don’t what? Were you expecting me to hold your hand? Lead you down the court and stand aside so you might make a shot?”

A crowd had gathered around us. “How the hell did you even make the basketball team in the first place?”

My face was an unpleasant shade of red. “I don’t think you’re qualified to ignore me. Don’t you know who I am?”

Just walk away, I repeatedly chanted to myself as I let out a deep exhale. Changbin roughly grabbed my arm, ignoring my protests. “Do us all a favor and quit before you embarrass the entire school.”

The sounds of my classmates’ laughter followed me all the way to the front office where I feigned a headache. My mother came to pick me up from school later, attributing my tears to my non-existent ailment, driving me home in the backseat of our minivan so that I could cry alone in the solitude of my bedroom.

Throughout the remainder of middle school, I suffered under an endless barrage of torment from Changbin. By the time my eighth grade year had arrived, most of my classmates seemed to understand that I was Changbin’s little punching toy, standing aside as they observed our encounters. A display of teasing that only I was forced to endure because Changbin never really bothered anyone else in the same way.  

I was fed up with everything and everyone, including my bitchy teammates who often complained about extra workouts. Or, in the case of one glorious spring evening, being forced to scrimmage the men’s team yet again. Because, apparently, that was just the worst thing that could ever possibly happen.

“Against the boys?” Lucy cried, our starting forward desperate to change our coach’s mind.

But she was stoic. “It will help me see where we need to improve before the next game.”

I nodded my agreement, vacantly paying attention as I eyed the gathered boy’s team warming up on the opposite end of the court. They were all standing around Seo Changbin like the useless droids they were, obedient to their master. How could anyone be so subservient? 

And I could easily recall the last time Changbin and I had scrimmaged one another. It was impossible to forget because of the tragic conclusion, marking the starting point of his teasing I received on a daily basis. Perhaps anyone would shy away from the possibility of enduring that mortification once again.

However, this time I was determined, and our coach was surprised when I requested to guard Seo Changbin. “He’s the best player,” she argued half-heartedly since nobody on my team was really capable of defending him.

“I can manage,” I told her with a nod.

Which is why, after the game began, I carefully approached Changbin as he dribbled down the court in my direction, studying him with rapt attention. Almost immediately I determined that he favored his right hand, which wasn’t uncommon in young point guards. So I forced him to go left, detecting weakness in the slight fumble to his rhythm.

For the remainder of the first quarter, I kept my distance from Changbin, mostly going through the motions as I made mental notes of where I might take advantage. I was rather good at that sort of thing, studying my opponents with far more attention than most people allow. But everyone had a weakness, including Seo Changbin.

It had happened a few minutes into the second quarter. One moment, Changbin was confidently calling out a play while mindlessly dribbling at the top of the key, when at the next, his jaw was practically touching the floor as I swiped the ball right out of his hands. I hustled to the opposite goal, easily managing a perfectly executed layup while my teammates, for once, cheered me on from the sidelines. Changbin’s eyes were wide with wonder when I marched over to poke him in the center of his chest. “I don’t mess around, Seo.”

He leaned in closer, amusement evident in his countenance. “Game on, Reynolds.”

September

Leaving for school in the morning was always a dramatic affair, especially since I was forced to ride with an older neighbor who clearly despised the arrangement. However, considering the numerous benefits my parents offered, including free transportation courtesy of the Honda my father bought for me, I could tell she was reluctantly grateful. And since I was still too young to qualify for my learner’s permit, I was forced to rely on someone else to avoid the dreaded bus system.

Unfortunately, there were always other drivers to worry about: a chaotic mixture of adults racing to get to their boring office jobs on time while adolescent teenagers disregarded speed limits signs because they decided to sleep past their alarms. I was one of the few who chose to leave later simply because I didn’t appreciate the hassle of having to talk to other people before classes started. Instead, I liked to show up moments before the first bell rang, finding my desk at the front of my homeroom class for mandatory attendance.

However, despite the apprehensive task of minding other inconsiderate idiots on the road, I had grown complacent on my morning commute. After all, as long as my mostly indifferent neighbor paid close enough attention, we could usually keep ourselves out of any possible trouble. Of course, for this morning in particular, I suppose we had done our absolute best but some people are impossible to predict.

As soon as the initial stupor of being rear-ended faded away, I shot out of the car and immediately paced around to the back, groaning when I realized the idiot driver behind us had destroyed my bumper. I carefully fought back tears, hating the idea of having to call my parents and tell them the Honda was a total wreck. But what else could I do when my car looked like it had seen its final moments?

“Reynolds?”

I swallowed hard as I turned to meet the amused gaze of Seo Changbin, AKA the idiot driver who had successfully ruined my morning. And the only person who still insisted on calling me by my last name like he had done since the sixth grade. “Of course,” I grumbled, watching him as he approached with way too much swagger in his gait.

“You ruined my new paint job!” Changbin exclaimed, ignoring his obviously pissed off passenger who was currently cursing at my incensed neighbor.

“Is that really the problem?” I questioned, studying the arrogant boy with clear disdain, compliments of years of withheld hostility.

“What the hell, Reynolds?” Changbin spat at me, kneeling down to observe the ruined front end of his expensive Corvette.

“You ran into us!” I protested, fumbling with my cellphone as I tried to call the emergency number. “How did you even get a learner’s permit?”

Changbin’s eyes widened when he realized what I was doing, reaching over to cover my phone screen with his hand. “You don’t need to do that, Reynolds, I can just write you a check.”

I frowned as he reached into the front seat of his car, grabbing a pen and his book. “How much do you want? It’s probably an old model anyway, it shouldn’t cost more than a couple hundred dollars. Maybe you can invest in a newer car and get rid of this piece of shit.”

I let out a ragged sigh.

In hindsight, I suppose it might have been better if I had just simply allowed Changbin to write me a check. After all, I could have probably swindled the idiot into writing me more than what the damage was worth. But something inside of me had finally cracked, breaking down every wall I had attempted to build around the insults he taunted me with through the hallways, the arrogant comments he threw my way during basketball practices, and the never-ending attempts to get a rise out of me. So, for this incident, in particular, I wasn’t prepared to passively accept whatever he thought his arrogant ass could get away with. I was fed up with Seo Changbin and everything that he stood for. Perhaps this was my chance to finally prove a point, and I was willing to take complete advantage.

“You asshole,” I gritted out, harshly shoving against an unsuspecting Changbin who actually stumbled back from my unexpected attack. “I don’t want your filthy money! My car was just fine before you decided to text on your iPhone and smash into my bumper. Not everyone has the privilege of mommy and daddy filling their back account with blood money so that you can buy everything you want in life. My parents saved for years to buy me this car just so that I could get to school every morning. Now, thanks to you, my car won’t ever be the same and I’ll have to use the bus and spend more of the money we don’t have just to get here on time!”

Changbin was stunned into silence, eyes wide and appraising as he gaped at me like a glorified clown. But I, apparently, wasn’t finished with my unexpected tirade. “I don’t care that you have a lot of money. I don’t care that your girlfriend is a whore. I don’t care that you can make thirty points in a basketball game because you never pass the ball to your teammates. I just want to get these four years in peace. In fact!” I started, taking a deep breath, “I’ll be better off with you as far away from me as possible! Now, get the hell out of my way so that I can file a report to the police. Hopefully, they revoke your learner’s permit. Although, you can probably just get another overpaid driver to take you to school while I suffer every morning.”

I lifted my cellphone to my ear, placing the call with a shaky hand while explaining to the lady on the other end everything that had happened. “Are you injured ma’am?” she asked me.

I actually smiled at the seemingly innocuous question. “I’m just fine.”

October

Basketball tryouts were rapidly approaching and I was working harder on shooting drills as opposed to benign biology reports. Every evening when I finally got home from school, courtesy of my patched up Honda Civic and still-seething neighbor, I would change into work-out clothes and spend hours outside at the basketball goal until my mother called me in for dinner. I was desperate to make a good impression, scavenging video footage of last year’s Varsity team while doing everything in my power to stay on the head coach’s radar, like picking up leftover equipment from the Freshman gym classes or volunteering to mop the court after hours.

Basketball had become important to me and I was determined to do everything in my power to succeed. Thus, when the first day of try-outs began, I could already beam with pride when the coach called out my name and offered a generous welcome before moving on with the remainder of the students. Flashing an award-winning smile, even after enduring sprint marathon running, I managed to successfully make it past the first day with shining colors. 

“Kayda Reynolds,” my coach called out for me after practice, “excellent job today.”

I was on cloud nine, carefully packing my duffel bag, ignoring the accompanying men’s team hopefuls who had just entered the gym for their session. As I was zipping the top closed, I noticed a bright yellow sneaker had just entered my peripheral vision. I turned around slowly, groaning when I saw Seo Changbin standing directly behind me. I tried to ignore him, tossing my bag across my shoulder, but the irritating boy simply walked in front of me, forcing me to a halt. “Hey, listen, Reynolds,” he started sheepishly with uncharacteristic shyness, “I’m sorry about your car. I hope they fixed it at the garage.”

I glared in his direction. After our parents had shown up to the scene, Changbin’s father recommended a nice body shop nearby that did a lot of work for them. He promised to pay the costs to repair my car, fixing his son with a reprimanding glare that actually left the great Seo Changbin wilting under that stern look. “It’s fine,” I offered in response, pushing past Changbin as I hurried to the door.

“No, Reynolds, I’m serious,” Changbin tried again, grabbing my arm and pulling me back. It was difficult to ignore the sudden flashback, reminding me of a similar scene from my sixth grade terror years. I jerked my arm out of his grip and he allowed it with only a questioning brow. “I hope it’s just the same as it was.”

“Look, Changbin,” I sighed, “I don’t really have time for a conversation. My car is fine, alright?”

Changbin hesitated, dark eyes studying me closely. “I’m really sorry, Reynolds.”

His apology brushed me the wrong way simply because I had never heard Seo Changbin genuinely apologize for anything in his life. “I don’t have time for your jokes,” I snapped in his direction. “If your father forced you to do this, then you can tell him mission accomplished, okay? I don’t want to deal with you anymore.”

I left him there in the middle of the gym, feeling a small sense of accomplishment and pride for standing up for myself once again.

November

The final members of the Varsity girl’s basketball team were announced at the end of the day. I was relieved to see my name amongst the list, even if it was the very last entrant. Nevertheless, I was in a good mood as I followed behind the crowd of my excited new teammates, clambering in the direction of my Honda, exhausted after another long practice. 

Unfortunately, such an exuberant celebration could only last for so long, and I paused in the middle of the parking lot when I realized a familiar silver Corvette was situated directly next to my Honda where my neighbor was waiting. I rolled my eyes when I realized Changbin was standing next to the car, arms crossed over his chest as he ignored the little giggles my teammates let out when they saw him. I contemplated returning to the gym and waiting for him to finally leave when he realized I wasn’t coming. Maybe he was dumb enough to think I had managed a ride home with someone else. 

“No,” I grumbled out loud, “even Changbin isn’t that stupid.”

I reluctantly traversed the remaining steps to my car, frowning when Changbin’s eyes finally located my hesitant form. “Reynolds,” he called out to me, opening the passenger side door of his stupidly expensive car to retrieve something, speaking in a low tone to the older student waiting in the backseat.

“What did I do to deserve this?” I wondered to whoever might be listening, wishing I could reverse time and do things over again from that fateful collision. Maybe I could convince the Kayda from September to leave home earlier, dismissing my concern to water my mother’s suffering plants. 

Nevertheless, I waited until Changbin pulled back from his car to hand me what appeared to be a roll of duct tape. “Is this another joke?” I asked wearily.

“It’s bumper guard,” he announced proudly, looking at me as if in profound expectation. 

“And?”

Changbin’s smile never wavered as he took the tape back from me and directed me to the back of my car. He measured out a long roll, patting it down against my new bumper guard. “It helps prevent scratches and scuff marks,” he explained while I stood there in confusion.

“Thanks?” I managed when he finally confronted me again.

“It’s no problem, Reynolds,” he said, patting the side of my Honda. 

“Uh-huh,” I muttered while reaching for my door handle. 

“I can get you anything you want, Reynolds,” Changbin spoke again, standing firmly in the way of allowing me to join my neighbor inside.

“Changbin,” I groaned, deciding to end this self-inflicted misery once and for all. “I don’t know why you’re suddenly doing these things, but you don’t have to anymore, alright? There’s no way your father could still be punishing you, and you don’t need to feel bad or whatever for what happened. I just want to move on.”

Changbin pursed his lips. “You don’t like the attention, Reynolds?”

I frowned at his comment. “Attention?”

Changbin chuckled, leaning back against his car. “I mean, it’s no secret that I’m a pretty big deal around here.”

And there was his never-ending supply of arrogance to resume normality.

“I thought it might be nice if I gave you some attention. You seemed really bent out of shape after the accident.”

I exhaled slowly. “You think I wanted your attention to make up for the hell you put me through?”

Changbin stuttered, eyes widening in surprise. “The hell I put you through? Reynolds, it was just a minor bump.”

“Fuck, Changbin,” I cursed, instantly regretting doing so. “It’s not just the accident, you’ve been an asshole since I first met you in the sixth grade. You’ve done everything possible to call me out despite the fact that I never wanted anything to do with you! Please at least grant me this one favor and stop bothering me.”

Changbin seemed at a loss for words. “You don’t like me?”

“Is it some big revelation that there might be someone on this planet who hates you?” I sneered. 

Changbin visibly deflated, if just for a brief moment. “You hate me, Reynolds?”

“Of course I do!” I practically shouted. “What made you think otherwise! Changbin, you’re the most conceited, arrogant asshole I’ve ever had the displeasure of meeting.”

“Come on, Reynolds,” Changbin tried to play it off. “I was just joking around.”

“Joking around?!” I fumed. “Changbin, you made me feel worthless when I was in sixth grade. I had just started playing basketball and you successfully made me want to quit. In fact, if it wasn’t for my dad, I probably would have taken your advice to drop off the team. Why would I ever like someone who always put me down because they thought they were superior to everyone else? You might have the rest of the school eating out of the palm of your hand, but you haven’t fooled me. For all the money your family has in the world, I would never want to be like you.” I muscled open my car door, glaring down Changbin as he took a step back. “This is me telling you to back off.”

December

The Christmas tournament was always an extravagant affair in our community. All the teams in the county, including rival conferences, were invited to our school for a series of competitive basketball games. It was an honor to compete and the committee in charge always held additional ceremonies to honor the players. For example, one of the most popular traditions allowed an MVP from each competing men’s team to choose a lucky girl as a recipient of their admiration. Likewise, the chosen player gave a rose to any girl he desired in the audience. It was a dismal affair, superficial in every way, and I could only cringe as I watched each subsequent display of “affection.” I was grateful that nobody ever bothered choosing me because I couldn’t handle that sort of arrogant display.

“Seo Changbin,” the coordinator announced while beckoning him forward. Changbin accepted his rose with an unnecessary bow, taking the microphone while all the girls in the gymnasium swooned at the sight. I spotted Changbin’s off-and-on again girlfriend waiting expectantly in the front row. I couldn’t remember if they were together now or not, since their break-ups were so frequent. 

“Thank you,” Changbin said to the coordinator before surveying the court. I froze when his eyes landed on me. “I pick Kayda Reynolds.”

Upon his declaration, I refused to remove from my spot on the bench, only reacting when my coach harshly dug her fingers into my shoulder, fixing me with a hard stare. I tried not to protest as I slowly made my way to center court, cheeks blushing with red. I took the rose Changbin extended in my direction, glaring him down as he returned my look with one of equal determination. His arm wrapped around my shoulders, bringing my stiffening form against his side for a picture. “I like a challenge, Reynolds,” he whispered, leaving me with a dumbfounded expression for the photographer to memorialize.

January

Christmas break ended far too soon, which meant I was confronted with the unwanted task of returning to school at 8:00 AM on a frigid Monday morning. Stepping outside with a coffee, the last thing I expected to see was Seo Changbin’s car waiting at the sidewalk with the man in question leaning out the window. “Reynolds!” he called for me. “Let’s go!”

I stormed over to Changbin with heavy steps. “What the hell is this?” I hissed through the window. “How do you know where I live?”

Changbin grinned. “It was written on the accident report.”

“Regardless,” I snarled, “I don’t need your help getting to school.”

“Reynolds,” Changbin tried again, “I’m trying to be nice.”

“I don’t want you to be anything,” I sighed. “I always ride with my neighbor in my car, and you obviously know that since you tried to total it!”

“But mine is nicer,” he arrogantly commented, “you can ride to school in luxury.”

“The only luxury I need is for you to be out of my life,” I said, glancing around quickly to make sure nobody was observing this odd exchange.

“You can’t bring that coffee in here,” Changbin continued. “I don’t want you spilling that shit on my interior.”

“I’m not riding with you,” I growled.

“Look, Reynolds,” Changbin smirked. “If you ride with me today, then I’ll leave you alone.”

Considering his recent pattern of behavior, the promise was rather shallow. “Really?”

“Let me clear my conscious,” Changbin said, smoothing his hands against the steering wheel. “Just one ride to school.”

“Is that all it takes?” I snorted, eyeing him suspiciously.

“What do you have to lose, Reynolds?”

“My pride,” I deadpanned, enjoying the frustration written across his countenance.

“You’re really hard to get along with, Reynolds.”

“You’re one to talk,” I quipped, letting out an exaggerated sigh. “Are you even allowed to drive with more than one person?”

“Does that really concern you, Reynolds?”

I rolled my eyes. “If this gets you off my back, then I’ll do it.”

I dumped my coffee cup into the trash bin at the end of the block before coming around to fumble with the door of Changbin’s car. “I turned your seat warmer on,” he informed me once I was securely inside.

“Thanks,” I muttered dryly, fastening my seatbelt as he abruptly toed the gas pedal, jerking the car forward with far too much speed. “Slow down,” I hissed. “No wonder you hit my car.”

“For your information, Reynolds,” Changbin said. “That was my first accident.”

“It’s true!” the same guy from the accident commented from the backseat. “Changbin is actually a good driver. He won’t need supervision for much longer.”

“Then I’m glad your first accident was me,” I remarked sarcastically, closing my eyes as I sent up a prayer for safety, only relaxing when Changbin pulled his car into a front row parking spot of our school’s student lot. “Great,” I huffed, “now leave me alone.”

“Hold on, Reynolds,” Changbin called out to me, ignoring the obvious way I hastened my steps as he easily fell into pace with me on the sidewalk. “What are you doing after school? We don’t have practice today, I can take you home.”

“I guess I have no choice since you drove me here,” I muttered, desperately trying to reach the front entrance. Hopefully, then, Changbin would wander off to find his ridiculous basketball friends.

“We could get something to eat?” he suggested calmly as if we were close acquaintances instead of mutual rivals.

“Didn’t you promise to leave me alone?” I whined.

“At least for today, Reynolds,” Changbin said with a pleading tone I wasn’t used to hearing from him.

“Don’t you have someone else you can go bother?”

“I like bothering you,” he teased, much to my chagrin. “But seriously, Reynolds, you know the Valentine’s dance is coming up?”

“And?”

“Basketball players are encouraged to go together.”

“You should try asking Monica,” I stated flatly, “I know she actually likes you.”

“I think we should go together, Reynolds,” he said, flooring me to a stop outside the doors.

“What?”

“You should be my date to the dance,” he rephrased carefully, gaze imploring. “I want to go with you.”

I rolled my eyes over his eager form. “I don’t like those things.”

“Just this once?”

“You keep saying that,” I sighed, “but you’re apparently horrible at keeping promises.”

“Kayda,” Changbin said, tone serious as he lightly grazed my arm, fingers wrapping around my shoulder. I was taken aback by the random use of my first name. “Please?”

“But you have a girlfriend,” I insisted, taking a step back to eliminate the unexpected contact between us. What the hell was wrong with him?

“Oh,” Changbin smirked, “is that why you keep turning me down? Trust me, Lisa and I aren’t together anymore.”

“I don’t really care,” I said, suddenly feeling the urge to turn down that possible justification. “Why do you even want to go with me?”

“Because,” he started, shuffling backward, “you’re a lot cooler than most of those girls.”

I blinked twice before managing a somewhat coherent response. “Excuse me?”

“You aren’t going with anyone,” Changbin said. “Even if you don’t like the dance, we can always leave early and do something else.”

Something truly strange must have happened to this boy over Christmas.

“I’m guessing you’ll keep bothering me until I say yes?”

Changbin brightened. “Probably?”

“Fine,” I conceded, “but I really don’t understand you, Changbin.”

And perhaps I never would.

February

“Aren’t they lovely?” my mother asked as she swooned over the roses my father had gifted her for Valentine’s day.

“Sure,” I mumbled because I could never understand why this kind of Holiday even existed.

Except to torture me, especially knowing what I was about to get myself into at the dance that evening.

“Kayda,” my mother gently chided me, “you don’t always have to be so negative.”

“I know,” I rolled my eyes. “Thanks for the reminder.”

“Do you need help getting ready for the dance tonight?”

I grimaced. “I’ll be fine.”

My mother, of course, had been positively ecstatic when she heard I was going to the school’s annual Valentine’s dance. It was mostly for underclassmen since Juniors and Seniors usually saved their time and effort for Prom. However, I happen to know that the whole event was exclusively designed so that adolescent teenagers could endure as much drama as possible before the evening had concluded.

“And with Seo Changbin,” my mother gushed. “He’s such a handsome young man.”

I guess she forgot about the fact that he had damaged my Honda.

“He’s something,” I said, watching as my mother fiddled with a vase for her precious flowers that might live for a week or two before wilting and dying away as all young love was destined to do.

How romantic.

FLASH!

I groaned as my father continued to snap pictures of me, trying for every angle possible while my mother messed with my hair and makeup. “Just beautiful,” she said, brushing off the invisible dust that had apparently coagulated on my dress sleeve.

“Don’t you have enough pictures?” I whined to my father, rubbing my eyes as I tried to rid my line of vision of those impeding black spots.

“You never dress like this,” my father whined in return, reminding me of where I had probably picked it up from.

“Because I hate it,” I gritted out, crossing my arms petulantly as I looked up at the clock.

Changbin was due to arrive at any minute and I definitely didn’t want my parents trying to talk to him. They would likely convince him that I was looking forward to the dance and that was the opposite of the truth. In fact, I would much rather stay here curled up in my bed with a decent thriller novel to occupy my time until I passed out for the night.

“He’s here!” my mother squealed as if she were the one going to the dance instead of me. Mere moments later our doorbell rang and I rolled my eyes at the ridiculous looks my parents wore.

“I really hate you guys right now,” I grumbled, opening the door to greet Changbin who waited on the other side, hands behind his back.

“Reynolds,” he smirked, eyes trailing up and down.

“You’re early,” I informed him, sighing loudly as I realized that meant we would have to spend even more time together. I was also aware of my parents watching from behind, so I rolled my eyes and grabbed Changbin’s jacket sleeve to pull him in the direction of his car. 

“Are you finally excited, Reynolds?” he asked, letting out an uncharacteristic giggle as I paused at his car.

“Listen, Changbin,” I said, crossing my arms over my chest, “you better promise me that this isn’t some kind of weird joke or something.”

“Of course not, Reynolds,” Changbin said, appearing entirely confused as to why I could possibly think of such a thing.

“Then let’s get this over with,” I sighed, making myself comfortable in the passenger seat, briefly greeting the older couple waiting in the backseat. 

I hadn’t even had the chance to really take in Changbin’s appearance properly, so I discreetly eyed him from the side as he drove. His suit screamed expensive, and the Gucci designer label on his jacket alerted me to the fact that he had spent thousands on an outfit he would probably disregard after tonight’s affairs. The shallowness of his appearance was yet another reminder that there was absolutely no logic behind the two of us being together for this event.

“Listen, Reynolds,” Changbin started, glancing at me briefly before returning his eyes to the road, “I know you weren’t looking forward to this, but I promise that we can leave whenever you want.”

I frowned at the sentiment. “I don’t usually do these things.”

“I know,” Changbin smiled as if happy I had made an exception for him. And if I had more energy, I would have promptly informed him that I was only doing this so that he would finally leave me alone at school. Now that a few stray rumors had recently started circulating about the two of us being spotted together in the parking lot, I was more than prepared to go back into my self-imposed isolation. “My friend Felix works on the committee who put this together,” Changbin added. “It’s supposed to be really cool.”

“I’m not very impressionable,” I said, wondering what sort of lunacy the delinquents in charge of Felix’s squad had rendered for this unnecessary dance. Lee Felix was notorious around the school for being extremely popular, often holding parties at his elaborate townhouse on the weekends since his parents flew a lot for business. And if the stupid lights reflecting off the school’s moldy brick exterior were anything to go by, then I was ready to be disappointed.

I held back a sigh as Changbin hurried to my side of the car, helping me out with a sweaty palm as if he were anything remotely close to a gentleman. “I paid for our tickets in advance,” Changbin said, refusing to let go of my hand despite the fact that I was openly tugging against his impossible hold.

Reluctantly, I let Changbin keep my poor appendage, following him up the front steps of the school’s gymnasium entrance. I could already hear the predominantly bass-filled music pouring outside. And, if I concentrated hard enough, I could smell the faint odor of bad weed emanating from somewhere out in the woods.

Changbin handed our tickets to the perplexed girl waiting at the front, eyes wide as she took in the strange sight of me and the school’s most popular douchebag hand in hand. I swallowed hard as Changbin maintained his firm grip, leading me inside to a nearby group of his friends. Meanwhile, the eyes of my classmates continued to follow us, silently judgemental. What was Seo Changbin doing, they were probably thinking, watching their precious star basketball player bring the school’s quiet isolationist to a time-honored occasion?

“Chan,” Changbin greeted one of the players, exchanging an unnecessarily complicated handshake. 

“Kayda Reynolds,” Chan greeted me, and I was faintly surprised that the Senior boy even knows my name. Based on what I heard from the annoying group of girls who sat at the table behind me in Biology, Chan had been voted most popular boy in the Senior class. He was also the starting shooting guard for the men’s Varsity team which meant a hell of a lot around this community.

Changbin pulled me even closer upon Chan’s utterance of my name, inquiring about some sort of college tour Chan was scheduled to participate that weekend. If only I could have been a Senior already, then I’d make sure to attend university as far away from Changbin as possible. Perhaps then I might attain the peace I truly deserved.

And despite the fact that I was hoping to just stand there without having to muster a single word, inevitably, I was brought into the conversation. “I didn’t know you liked these things, Kayda,” one of my older teammates remarked. Eda was her name, and she was currently hanging from the arm of a rather handsome basketball player. 

“I thought I’d try,” I answered shortly, aware that Changbin was probably listening, even as he remained engrossed in conversation with Chan.

Eda hesitated, glancing between me and Changbin. “I didn’t know you and Changbin were together.”

“Of course,” Changbin smoothly inserted, interrupting me before I could possibly deny the allegation. His fingers fanned out across my hip, hold unrelenting around my waist. 

I clenched my jaw as I fixed him with a glare. Take a hint, I wanted to shout in his stupidly smug face. “Really?” Eda gasped, eyes wide with admiration. “Congratulations.”

Was I getting an athletic scholarship to Harvard?

“What about Lisa?” I heard another girl whisper from some distant proximity. 

Changbin probably didn’t hear the girl as he was too busy bragging to his friends about the romantic encounter we had that led to our unexpected coupling. And I was too dumbstruck to do anything but stand there like a blushing fool, listening to the whispers while feeling the eyes of the other students watching me with close attention. But perhaps this is what Changbin intended, a way to get me to an unsanctioned school event just to humiliate me further.

“Let’s dance, Reynolds,” Changbin said, abruptly dragging me away from the gossip circle.

Was this it? I thought to myself as he brought me closer. My mouth was dry, completely devoid of any moisture when his pelvis brushed against my lower stomach. He still had a firm hold of my right hand while his other hand rested low on my wait.

Too low.

I glared at him in warning as I reached back to redirect his hand higher, receiving another adorable giggle for my efforts. He pulled me closer, leaving no space between our bodies as he led me across the floor. And I, being no expert on anything dance-related, could only follow his lead as I tried not to embarrass myself more than Changbin had already successfully done. “You act like you’ve never done this before, Reynolds,” Changbin teased and I hated how satisfied he looked with our current condition.

This was definitely an act. 

“What are you doing?” I muttered darkly, glaring at as many people as I could manage because they insisted on studying us like zoo animals in captivity.

“Dancing, I think,” he chuckled, breath warm against my face which meant we were way too close together.

“Is this what you wanted?” I asked, feeling unexpectedly defeated as I realized that Changbin was winning yet again. He had tricked me into coming with him to this stupid dance to humiliate me in front of his stupid friends. I felt trapped, and it wasn’t just because of the insistent grip he managed around my waist. 

“Kayda,” Changbin sighed, leaning in to brush his nose against my collarbone, “you’re so beautiful.”

I mustered as much strength as I could, jerking away from him with a force he had not anticipated. Changbin let me go with wide eyes, watching as I took several steps back. I could still feel everyone looking at us, waiting for something to happen, but I wouldn’t give them that satisfaction. I was done being the object of everyone’s amusement, especially when it involved Seo Changbin.

“You didn’t need to go this far!” I hissed at him, despising the tears that had started to free themselves from my swollen ducts.

“Reynolds?” Changbin questioned, reaching for me again, but I quickly knocked his hand away.

“Leave me alone,” I told him, already retreating in the direction of the locker room, knowing I could leave from the back exit before this night got any worse.

“Reynolds!”

“Don’t follow me,” I practically begged him, trying to hasten my steps but the heel of my shoe was caught at the bottom of my dress.

I stopped in the middle of the sidewalk, reaching down to fix something that I could actually control. “Hey, Reynolds,” Changbin said, panting slightly as he touched my elbow. “What did I do?”

I spun around so quickly that he released me with a start, taking a few steps back. “You’re mocking me!” I screamed in his direction, wiping away the stupid tears that were steadily cascading freely from the corners of my eyes. 

“Kayda,” Changbin said, clearly startled by my words, “I don’t understand what’s wrong?”

“You wouldn’t,” I sniffled, turning away from his troubling presence to try and get a grip over my emotions. 

He wasn’t helping matters, coming up behind me to grab my waist. “Tell me,” he insisted, “I’ll listen.”

“It doesn’t matter,” I said, vision clouding. “Please just take me home.”

“It does matter,” Changbin insisted, forcing me to turn back around. “I want to know.”

“You’re never nice to me,” I said. “I don’t know why I thought you might have been reasonable tonight.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Are you that clueless?” I snapped, meeting his gaze with renewed vigor. “Ever since we first met, you’ve done nothing but humiliate me and I’m really tired of the way you treat me and everyone else.” 

Changbin’s hands fell from my waist. “The way I treat you?”

“Yes,” I sighed with irritation. “You act like you’re better than me because your parents have money and a nice house. And because you act like that, you think you can just treat me like your personal doormat. Ever since I can remember, you’ve always said whatever you felt like, even if it was hurtful, and you do it to other people too, but I guess they can handle it better than me since I’m the primary recipient!”

I took in several deep breaths, eyes shut together tightly. When I opened them again, I was met with a sight that shocked me to my core. And I could never forget the way he looked at me this time because there was no reason for Seo Changbin to look so defeated.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, voice trembling. I was stunned by the glistening wetness gathering in his eyes. “I really like you, Kayda,” he said. “I’ve always liked you.”

The revelation was almost as shocking as his tears. I tensed my hands into tight fists, digging my nails into my skin to feel another kind of pain, one that was more bearable than the ache I felt in my heart. It was almost torturous to endure, covering my eyes with my hands to try and stop more tears from falling. “No you don’t,” I insisted, unable to outmatch his strength as he forced my hands away from my face.

“I know I shouldn’t have done those things to you, but I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. I was a stupid and immature kid and I’m sorry for everything that I’ve done. Because I didn’t know it would hurt you like this.”

“Why would you think otherwise?”

“Because I thought it would make you better,” Changbin said. “I figured that you would only fight to prove me wrong.”

“That’s horrible,” I said, shaking my head so quickly that it almost resembled the effects of whiplash.

“Yeah,” Changbin nodded, a strange darkness masking his expression. “It probably was.”

I let out a deep breath, worried about the anxious pacing of my cardiac rhythm. “And what you said in there about us being together? You know that’s not true and it probably never will be.”

Changbin nodded slowly, accepting the truth for once in his life. “I don’t deserve you, Kayda,” he said, voice incredibly sad as he looked down at the ground. “I won’t bother you anymore.”

I pulled out my phone to call my parents. “I hope you mean it this time.”

March

The end of basketball season also brought about a renewed concentration for my academic endeavors. It also meant that I was seeing much less of Seo Changbin for which I was grateful. The pitiful looks he threw my way were starting to really affect me far more than I was willing to let on. 

At least things had started to return to normal, as in, Changbin was still flocked by his countless admirers while I enjoyed the peace of being ignored. It was much better this way, especially since I was happier without the teasing and taunting from the man in question. It was proving to be a necessary change.

There was also a new student in my Biology class. And after taking in the handsome combination of his dark hair and eyes, I understood why everyone was interested in pursuing him. Of course, this mainly included the girls who had finally realized they could never have Seo Changbin, seeking a new target for their endless flirtations. But I also felt sorry for the newcomer because he already seemed different than the others. He was quiet, like me, and seemed to prefer the solitude of sitting alone at the back of our classroom. Until those stupid girls started flocking him like glorified vultures.

I watched him one day while we were working on an independent assignment, which mostly meant everyone enjoyed a generous conversation while our teacher tried to win a game of Solitaire. The new kid was obviously more interested in his assignment than everyone else, and I could tell he was uncomfortable with the attention. Normally, I stayed out of the way, knowing it always turned out better for me in the end. However, I couldn’t let him suffer, so I kindly waited for him at the end of class, touching his arm when he passed by. His eyes were wide when they met mine. “You know,” I said, leaning in close, “those girls really hate me. If you ever need some space to do your work, then you can always sit next to me.”

I offered him a kind smile before proceeding to my next class.

The next morning, I was only half-surprised to see him already seated at the spot next to me at my table. I dumped my books on top of the faded surface before taking my seat, pulling out the assignment sheet from my folder. I started working as the bell rang, vaguely paying mind to our teacher who walked in with a yawn, encouraging us to continue working while he slammed his head down on top of his desk. I rolled my eyes and opened my calculator, aware that the new kid was watching my every move. I could hear whispers from the table next to mine and only looked up to glare at those annoying girls before returning to my work. 

“Thank you,” the boy finally murmured and I only let out a hum as I considered the multiple-choice questions in front of me.

And from that point on, I found myself with a new desk partner for my morning class who eventually introduced himself as Han Jisung. Subsequently, if our teacher ever assigned group work, I always agreed to pair up with Jisung while enjoying the looks of hostility thrown my way. In actuality, Jisung was incredibly smart and really fun to work with, making intelligent puns and jokes about the illustrations in our textbooks. I laughed every time, offering my own takes in return because I actually didn’t mind the way he snickered in response.

But I didn’t realize how closely the rest of the student population was observing our interactions until it was brought to my attention courtesy of my nosy teammates. One day at basketball practice, a younger player innocently inquired about Jisung. “You’re so lucky!” she swooned to which I offered a vague noise of agreement. “He’s so gorgeous,” the girl continued, gripping my arm with unnecessary strength.

“Are you dating Han Jisung, Kayda?” our team captain asked me and I blushed furiously at her question, denying the insinuation.

When I turned around to find my gym bag, I could see Seo Changbin watching the exchange with barely disguised anger.

April

Han Jisung was proving to be a very interesting character. Despite his beautiful visuals and obvious appeal, Jisung rarely paid any attention to the scores of girls who flocked around him for attention. In fact, he often wrinkled his nose in disgust before excusing himself. And he didn’t seem to like the popular guys who tried to befriend him, asking him to try out for different sports teams. In fact, the only popular guy Jisung seemed to like was Lee Felix and that’s simply because nobody could resist his charm.

But, more than anything else, Han Jisung actually liked me and he often escorted me to my classes, joining me at my lunch table of isolation during fourth period, or even lingering by my Honda after school to tell me some kind of cheesy joke he obviously waited all day to share. It was beyond strange, and I wasn’t sure how to deal with the disruption in my usual routine. But I also didn’t mind it at all and even found myself seeking out Jisung in the hallways or waiting with anticipation for him to walk into Biology every morning. Sometimes, he even brought me an extra coffee, talking in great detail about his precious espresso machine as if it were his most prized possession. 

Subsequently, I didn’t even hesitate to agree to hang out with Jisung after school one afternoon. Especially when I found out that Jisung had recently gotten his intermediate license, which meant we could ride together without worrying about having an older supervisor in the car with us. Apparently, being a year older made Jisung even more appealing.

“I heard you’re good at basketball,” he joked. “Should we go to the park? Maybe you could teach me?”

I brightened at the suggestion. “Okay!”

Yet, nothing could have ruined my mood more than the sight of Seo Changbin and his basketball buddies already occupying one of the courts when Jisung pulled up in his red Toyota. “Great,” I muttered, trying to ignore the way Changbin’s biceps flexed enticingly.

“What’s wrong?” Jisung asked while turning off the ignition.

“We don’t really get along,” I told Jisung.

“You and Changbin?” Jisung frowned. “That kid hates me too. Don’t know what his problem is.”

“He’s a jerk,” I said, reaching for the door handle of Jisung’s car.

“Are you sure you want to stay?” Jisung asked. “We can always go do something else.”

“No,” I turned him down with emphasis. “We can be here too.”

Jisung shrugged and reached into the backseat for the basketball we had taken from my car. He followed me as I led the way with as much confidence as I could muster, ignoring the way Changbin’s eyes seemed to follow the two of us as we claimed the next court over. I tucked the basketball under my arm, turning to face Jisung with a grin. “What do you want to play?”

“Your choice, Kayda,” Jisung said, slipping his jacket from his shoulders. “I’m not the expert here.”

He was also very good at stroking my ego.

I blushed at the comment regardless, running my fingers across the grooves of the ball in my hand. Of course, my good mood was never meant to last for long, and my smile vanished when I realized that a stray basketball had rolled its way over to where Jisung and I were conversing. 

“Sorry,” Changbin muttered when he came over to retrieve the ball, standing up straight to eye Jisung with narrowed eyes. 

“Keep the ball on your side,” I told him, reaching out for Jisung’s hand with every intention of leading us further away.

Changbin’s jaw clenched, knuckles turning white from their grip on the basketball in his hands. “Why don’t the two of you join us?” Changbin asked.

“We’re fine,” I said in response, but Changbin was determined.

“Felix wanted to make a team,” he continued. “We could do a tournament?”

“Not interested,” I reiterated, but my words seemed to have no effect on Changbin’s resolve.

“Felix!” he shouted in the direction of his red-headed friend. The smaller boy joined us with a wide smile. “You need two players, right?”

Felix nodded, turning to us with an exaggerated pout. “Please?”

Jisung laughed, tossing an easy arm around Felix’s shoulders. “Of course! Kayda and I would be happy to join.”

“We would?” I muttered, reluctantly following the three boys as we made our way to the opposing court.

The first game involved Changbin’s team versus Chan’s, meaning I was currently sitting on the ground with Jisung while Felix introduced us to his other two players. “This is Minho and Hyunjin.”

“At least we have one good player,” Minho joked, winking in my direction. Was this the first time Minho had ever spoken to me?

“Changbin never picks us,” Hyunjin sighed dramatically as if his sole life’s problem was Changbin ignoring him in favor of better talent. 

“But neither does Chan,” Felix spoke up and Minho laughed at the observation.

“Do you have any tips, Kayda?” Hyunjin asked, moving in closer as he scanned the court. “It looks like we’ll have to go against Changbin’s team.”

I twisted my head to the side, watching Changbin step back to shoot a wide-open three-pointer. “Guard the hell out of Seo and we should be fine.”

“The first team to 12 points wins!” Chan explained to us, coaxing Hyunjin and Changbin forward as the two shook hands for Jump Ball. I lingered back on defense, figuring that Changbin would somehow find a way to get the ball from Hyunjin despite the fact that my new teammate had a good four inches of height over him. “Ready?”

“Let’s go, team!” Felix shouted with faux enthusiasm, and I resisted the urge to sigh.

And as expected, Changbin managed to outsmart Hyujin, tipping the ball towards one of his players. I immediately prepared myself, anticipating a fast return to the goal I was invested in protecting. However, my opponent seemed to reconsider his advances, slowing the ball down to wait for the remainder of his teammates to find their positions.

I took a step closer to the player handling the ball, paying no mind to my confused teammates as they openly asked who they were supposed to be matched up with. I attempted to block an overhead pass from the player I was guarding, but it successfully found its way into Changbin’s hands who scored the easy jumper. I scowled as I marched over to my teammates, demanding to know who had been guarding Changbin. “I think it was me?” Mingo said, raising his hand cautiously while eyeing his friends.

“I could always do it?” Jisung suggested, and I instantly agreed because I definitely did not have the patience to guard Changbin.

I also hesitantly complied to handle the ball down the court, rolling my eyes when I realized Changbin had decided to guard me by not so subtly nudging one of his own players out of the way. I passed the ball to Hyunjin who attempted a dramatic three-pointer. Sadly, the ball never even made it to the basket, connecting with the barbed wire fence out of bounds. “Sorry!” Hyunjin apologized, but I was already backpedaling down the court.

Because it was going to be a long game.

“Five minutes left!” Chan shouted from the sidelines as if it mattered. We were losing horribly, the only points on the board coming from my efforts. And they had been considerable since Changbin insisted on face guarding me like I was Lebron James ready at any moment to dunk the basketball from the foul line.

“Shot!” Felix shouted, disrupting my wandering thoughts as I dove in for the rebound, watching the ball bank against the backboard.

I started up the court, deciding that setting up a play would never work since the rest of my team were truly terrible at following directions. “Kayda!” I heard Jisung summon my name and I realized he had somehow broken ahead of the others, wide open for my pass to the basket.

I threw the ball ahead to Jisung, watching with high expectations as he managed a decent angle for a shot attempt. And Jisung was prepared to make the layup, one foot already leaving the pavement, when Changbin suddenly intervened, deciding to confront Jisung and risk a potential foul. Of course, I never expected Changbin to act so aggressively, and I could only look on from afar as his hand came down to hit Jisung squarely in the nose. Almost immediately, Jisung fumbled the ball and Chan blew the whistle to signal the end of gameplay. 

“Changbin!” Chan scolded the younger player, hip jutting out sharply as he fixed Changbin with a stern gaze.

Meanwhile, I joined Felix on either side of Jisung, wincing when I noticed that Jisung’s nose was bleeding, hands cupping his face to try and stop the scarlet red that was already painting his honey-colored skin. “Is it broken?” I asked Jisung who merely whined in return.

“It might be,” Felix said. “Did he drive here?”

I nodded quickly, watching as Felix helped Jisung back to his feet. “I can ride with him to the hospital.”

I kept a firm hand around Jisung’s shoulder as I made sure to give Changbin a glare of my own as we passed him. “That wasn’t necessary,” I hissed in his direction, but Changbin was instantly apologetic.

He ran out in front of Jisung, forcing us to a stop. “I’m sorry Jisung,” Changbin said. “I got carried away.”

Jisung only waved him off, and Felix chose to take complete control of the situation, directing Jisung towards the parking lot. Before I could try to join them, Changbin had grabbed my arm. “I really didn’t mean to.”

His gaze was sincere, but I was still suspicious because I had openly witnessed a similar kind of aggression which Changbin was notorious for on the court since middle school. “How do I know that?”

“Because I’m telling the truth,” he implored, taking a step back to allow me more breathing room.

“He’ll probably be fine,” Chan commented, slinging a careful arm around Changbin’s shoulders. “Binnie can be a little rough.”

I scoffed at the affectionate nickname. “It looked intentional.”

“And now we lost one of our players,” Minho cried from behind me. 

“I guess the game is over,” Hyujin remarked, patting his friend on the back as if to offer sympathy. “Are you riding home with me?”

Minho nodded his compliance and I realized at that moment that Jisung had driven me here, which meant I had no ride. “I’ll have to call my parents,” I muttered.

“I can drive you home, Reynolds,” Changbin said, shuffling towards me. “Chan lives close to you.”

I took a moment to study Felix as he carefully led Jisung to his car, and I couldn’t help but think this had been some kind of elaborate set-up. “Fine.”

Changbin’s car stopped in front of my house after we dropped off Chan and I went to open the door before realizing that it was locked. “Do you intend to keep me prisoner?” I asked Changbin, only half-jokingly.

But Changbin was serious, fingers thumping against the steering wheel. “I’m sorry about the dance, Kayda.”

I glanced out the window. “It’s okay.”

“No, it isn’t,” Changbin shook his head. “I planned something different.”

“And what exactly were you expecting?”

Perhaps my question held more implications than I realized as Changbin’s hands fell from the wheel. “I wanted you to like me.”

“What do you mean...” I trailed off, freezing as I realized Changbin had leaned in closer to me over the center console.

“But I guess it didn’t work,” Changbin whispered. “I didn’t get what I wanted for once.”

“And what do you want?” I asked him, still as cautious as ever as I waited for my explanation.

“I really like you,” Changbin said, hand suddenly coming around to gracefully handle the back of my neck, fingers cool against my overheated skin. It provided a useful foundation to hold me in place, keeping me waiting as he continued to move in closer. 

I blamed the complete shock of the moment for everything that happened thereafter.

Changbin’s lips were smooth and gentle, coaxing my mouth open as his tongue invaded the warm cavern of my mouth, daring to slip across the muscle hesitating to act in compliance with his advances. I had never kissed anyone before in my life, so the sensation was entirely new and, dare I acknowledge, rather wonderful. The way I could feel the ridges of his lips, chapped from the wind, working in a strange harmony in mine as if this intimate dance was predicated by fate itself.

But I was still the first to pull away, detecting resistance in Changbin’s hold, ignoring the way his lips seemed to chase mine. “Changbin,” I whispered, slightly wary of the dark look in his eyes.

“Just one kiss?” Changbin pouted and I strangely found it endearing even as I tried to remember why I didn’t like him.

“I’m really confused,” I told him honestly. “I don’t understand what you want from me.”

“Just you,” he said, offering me a kind smile. “I want to be with you.”

It was all too much and I shook my head in denial. “I don’t know what to say right now.”

“What if I give you time to think about it?”

I nodded as a response because I was desperate to be left alone, reaching for the door handle. “Will you push me for an answer?”

Changbin scoffed. “What if I let you come to me this time, Reynolds?”

“You might be waiting a while.”

“I can be patient.”

I seriously questioned that assertion, offering Changbin one more disbelieving glance before graciously accepting the faint breeze that greeted me outside.

May

Jisung made a full recovery, returning to school with the same lazy playfulness that seemed to define his character. “As long as it doesn’t affect my looks,” Jisung said, earning himself one of my trademarked eye rolls in return.

“I’m sorry he did that to you.”

“Why should you apologize?” Jisung shrugged. “You aren’t responsible for Changbin.”

No, I really wasn’t, but that didn’t mean his friends were ready to acknowledge Jisung’s truthful claim.

“Kayda Reynolds.”

I looked up in surprise when I recognized Felix’s voice. I had been eating lunch alone since Jisung had asked for permission to leave school early, feigning a sore throat when in reality he wanted to skip his next period’s test. “Felix?”

The younger boy tsked as he sat down across from me without a single request for permission. “You shouldn’t keep ignoring him.”

I rolled my eyes when I realized his intentions. “Are you his advocate now?”

“No, but I am his friend.”

I gave up on trying to eat the school’s special meatloaf. “Are you trying to make me feel guilty?”

“No,” Felix shook his head, “but I think you’re being unfair.”

“He told me to take my time.”

“Which is a lot to ask of Changbin,” Felix said, giving me a look like I was incapable of understanding simple English.

“Don’t you think this is a lot for me to handle?” I asked him. “I’m not exactly his biggest fan.”

“At least give him something,” Felix said, sighing as he handled the apple on his lunch tray with disdain. 

“Will that make everyone happy?” I grumbled.

“You might even be surprised yourself,” Felix shot back, handling my sarcasm with ease. And that earned him enough respect to accommodate his request.

I found Changbin in the parking lot that afternoon. He was talking with Chan and another basketball player, appearing entirely at ease as he relaxed against the hood of his Corvette. It was difficult to intercede, knowing that I was reluctantly giving Changbin what he wanted.

Chan was the first to notice me, eyes growing wide as he nudged Changbin with a nod in my direction. Changbin turned around slowly, brightening immediately when he realized what his friend had been referencing. And he must have said something to dismiss Chan and his other friend because the two of them quickly retreated further into the maze of student cars. “I’m happy to see you,” Changbin said, voice betraying his obvious excitement. Which was still strange because Changbin had never spoken to me that way before. 

“Felix was convincing,” I said in return, anxiously glancing around the parking lot. “He said I was being unfair.”

“Ah,” Changbin nodded, running a nervous hand through his dark hair. “I did tell you to take your time.”

“Well,” I shrugged, “I suppose we can talk.”

Changbin nodded enthusiastically. “Do you want to go somewhere else, Reynolds?”

“That would be nice,” I admitted because we were starting to attract a lot of unwanted attention.

Changbin seemed thrilled by my acceptance, opening his passenger door for me. “I know a place we can go.”

“An arcade?” I questioned, pausing when a little boy abruptly ran out in front of me, eyes focused on the brightly lit wall of machines.

“Maybe I’m not so good at this,” Changbin said, clearing his throat as he brought us to an empty table. “I thought it might be fun.”

But I thought we were just talking, I wanted to offer in return but there was something irresistible about the boyish charm Changbin seemed to exude surrounded by such childish innocence. “My dad took me to arcades a lot when I was younger,” I said, unzipping my jacket because it had started to grow warm in the surrounding room.

“Really?” Changbin asked, looking up in surprise. “Do you wanna play?”

“Maybe for a little while,” I said, not missing the way his lips pulled tighter at the corners, revealing an uncharacteristic open-mouthed smile.

“Wait here,” Changbin instructed, and I obeyed his wish as he started to shove a twenty into the token machine.

I watched him when he came back, counting out the coins in his hand, handing me a substantial stack. “What do you wanna play?”

“Do you like video games?”

“My favorite way to waste time.”

Changbin and I were as close to addicts as two people could get, maintaining a constant presence next to the wildly entertaining shooting game he apparently enjoyed. I had gotten pretty good at the game, although Changbin continued to beat me each time we started a new round. However, at least he managed to refrain from bragging about how good he was at the game, which was a victory in and of itself. Because then I would have had to swiftly remind him that not everybody had enough money to come here on a whim’s notice to play to their heart’s content.

“One more round, Reynolds?” Changbin asked, holding up his final two silver tokens.

“I have a good feeling this time,” I said, snatching my coin to quickly shove inside the machine.

Changbin joined my session, loading up the queue as I held tight to the controller in my hand. As soon as the countdown sequence flashed across the screen, I felt my shoulders tense while my fingers flexed against the buttons. This time I was determined, even if I hated the smug smile Changbin wore on his face as he watched me with amusement.

The game progressed with an early advantage in my favor. I must have caught one of Changbin’s CPU players off-guard, attacking the base with relative success. Meanwhile, the man in question was nowhere in sight, and I could only make out his name on the tiny map at the bottom corner of my screen. Why wasn’t he attacking? I wondered as I infiltrated the next base.

“Did you forget how to play?” I couldn’t help but tease him. Yet, when he didn’t offer a snarky retort in response, I finally realized what was going on, especially once the game concluded with my victory. 

Changbin showed no signs of remorse. In fact, he seemed perfectly content with the results. It was now obvious that Changbin had clearly let me win, and I turned to him with a start. “Why did you give up?”

Changbin looked sheepish like he wasn’t expecting me to catch on to his plan. “That was all you, Reynolds.”

“Really?” I snickered. “You didn’t have to do that for me.”

“There’s a lot I’m willing to do for you,” Changbin said while minding his game controller. 

The seriousness of his tone caught me off-guard. 

“I guess it’s okay,” I said, somewhat hesitant. “This is kinda what friends would do, right?”

Changbin’s expression shifted, but only in the way his gaze dropped from mine. “Yeah, friends...”

Over the next few weeks, Changbin continued to invite me out, sometimes encouraging me to hang around the rest of his friends. It was actually kind of nice since most of Changbin’s friends were entirely different when it was just our classmates who weren’t around. In a way, it was like the arrogant facade was lifted, even if some of them, mainly Changbin himself, still couldn’t resist the occasional remark. But the best part was that Changbin never pushed me for an answer to that unspoken question hanging between us. And in the meantime, I could surprisingly enjoy the things he wanted to do, while he also accommodated my requests to spend time in the quiet solitude of the library. Although, I could tell Changbin was not as entertained as me, flipping through his textbook with a lax expression.

“He sounds both horrible and perfect,” Jisung said to me one day at lunch. 

“Why did he bother me so much in middle school?” 

Jisung shrugged. “Maybe it was his way of telling you something.”

“That he hated me?”

“Sounds like it was the complete opposite,” Jisung said. “I guess loverboy is really bad at expressing his feelings.”

“I can’t wait for the school year to end,” I lamented.

“A couple months away from Seo Changbin?” Jisung grinned. “But I’m not letting you brood by yourself all summer.”

“I like brooding,” I told him because it was definitely true. At least, at one point it was. Now, I wasn’t so sure anymore.

“So when are you gonna confront Changbin about your relationship problems?”

“We don’t have a relationship,” I grimaced. “And, for your information, I plan to keep putting it off because I have no idea what to say.”

“Better figure it out soon,” Jisung pointed out. “The end of the year always flies by.”

And curse him for being right.

June

The end of my Freshman year brought about a dramatic cliffhanger to the mess that now defined my life. Ironically, I had somehow evolved from the quiet girl who desired nothing more than to be left alone, to a frequent topic of debate amongst gossip circles at our school. Not to mention, I had somehow made a friend out of Han Jisung while inevitably being adopted into Changbin’s close circle of acquaintances despite my resistance.

And once the final bell rang for summer vacation, I joined the swarm of hyperactive students racing through the main entrance, flooding the student parking lot with excited chatter. In the meantime, Jisung was patiently waiting for me on the sidewalk, offering a charming smile once I fell into pace with him. “My dad’s forcing me to go to some sort of weird summer camp,” Jisung sighed despondently. “I guess that means we can’t crash the five-dollar movies on Tuesdays, Kayda.”

I was disappointed with Jisung’s revelation. “Maybe I should have found a camp this summer. Everyone else is leaving.”

“Including your admirer,” Jisung teased, nodding in Changbin’s direction.

I followed his gaze, realizing that it was finally time for me to give Changbin the answer he had been anticipating since April. “Give me a minute,” I said to Jisung, leaving him waiting by my car while I started in Changbin’s direction, amused by the way he tried to appear perfectly indifferent.

“Reynolds,” he acknowledged me, shoving his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket.

“I guess you made the summer league tournament,” I said, hesitantly searching for the right words.

“Yeah,” Changbin nodded. “There could be scouts watching.”

“I heard that too,” I agreed, wondering if it was too late to write some sort of elaborate note and leave it under his windshield wiper. “You’re probably waiting on my answer.”

Changbin straightened immediately, gaze imploring as he looked at me. “And?”

“I don’t think I’m ready for that,” I revealed, watching his expression fall. “It’s a lot for me to handle, but I do have a compromise.”

“Compromise?”

“When the school year starts again,” I said, “and you’re still interested, maybe we could be friends? I think that’s best for us.”

Changbin seemed to process my words slowly. “Just friends?”

I nodded. “I kinda liked these past few weeks. It was nice compared to middle school.”

Changbin flinched at my comment, letting out a shaky laugh. “Maybe we’re better off as friends, Reynolds,” Changbin agreed, holding out a hand which I tentatively shook.

“Friends,” I emphasized, although the determined look in Changbin’s gaze was hard to so easily dismiss.

[kimjongdaely]

The Art of Sin [Chapter 5] [M]

Gang!AU, Racer!AU, Tattoo Artist!AU

Pairing: Chen x Reader

Warnings: Language, violence, sexual situations, vandalism

Summary: He’s an artist. He does it all for the ‘art.’ Tattooing. Racing. Sex. All because he thinks they’re beautiful. There’s no one here that doesn’t know his name, because it’s everywhere. On every graffiti-filled wall, every tattooed skin, every cheer of the crowd. His name is there somewhere, because it’s all his—this world. And when he lays his eyes on you—well, he’s never seen anything more beautiful. And he’s going to make you his masterpiece.

Chapter 1│Chapter 2│Chapter 3 [M]│Chapter 4 [M]│Chapter 5 [M]│ Chapter 6│Chapter 7│Chapter 8 [M]

It’s two weeks later when Chen asks.

“Wanna date?”

For two weeks, you had been visiting EXO’s garage almost every day after you got off work. They welcomed you easily, a few shrugs and glances, because apparently it’s been a while since Chen had been with a girl.

You weren’t sure how you should act around Chen at first. You had sex, went on a date...learned what he really does. You should be terrified, but somehow, you’re not.

Chen never pushed you into anything. He was always casual, easy-going, laidback. He let you come, let you go, let you make your own decisions. You wonder if he knew that very first night that you wouldn’t be able to leave.

Like a butterfly caught in a spiderweb.

His question surprised you, but wasn’t exactly unexpected. The way you acted around each other felt couple-y already. He’s comfortable to be around, with that chill attitude, like nothing in the world really matters.

Your answer was, of course, “Sure.” You tried to act cool about it, calm and casual like the way he asked. It’s a lot harder than it seems, because your heart nearly jumped out of your throat, your hands clammy.

So that’s it. You’re dating him now. 

Making it ‘official’ didn’t really change much in your relationship. You went to him every afternoon, went to two or three races but you have yet to see him race. You see this guy known as Kai race a lot. Chen introduced you to him once after he won a race (you’re told he’s never lost...until...Chen didn’t finish that thought). He seems nice enough, flirty and smooth, but nice. There’s something in his eyes though, a kind of exhaustion that makes you worry for him.

Chen said that he would be racing tonight. Told you to wear something nicer, just to fit in. You’re ‘his’ girl now. Doesn’t seem too strange he’d want to show you off.

You wear skinny jeans, a black crop top and a leather jacket. Your hair is up in a high ponytail, because you know the races tend to get heated very quickly.  

When you get there, the crowd already seems to be pretty high and in full-swing. There are a lot more people than any race you’ve ever been to, a sight that makes you gulp nervously. It’s loud, so damn loud the floor pulses along with each note blasting through speakers, lights flashing all around.

You push through the crowd, trying to find EXO. They should be at the very front, next to the tracks.

“Excuse me.” You murmur, feeling incredibly small amongst the bodies of people. You almost get crushed a few times before you finally reach the front. You find Chen and his friends chatting, Kai is with him. He spots you, smiling and giving you a wave. 

When you reach him, he wraps you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Glad you could make it.“

“’Course.” You answer. “I wanted to see you race.”

He grins, sharing a glance with Kai who gives him a shrug.

“Well,” a deep voice rumbles in a chuckle, making a shiver run down your spine. You turn to face the speaker, a big man with a mean smile, ragged scars littered on his arms are shown off. “You ready for the race, boys?”

“Sure,” Kai answers easily, sharing another look with Chen. Kai doesn’t seem exactly pleased, though he keeps a cool composure. “You ain’t gonna back out from the deal, right?”

“’Course not, I’m a man of my word.” He says it humorously, gesturing at himself grandly. “I tell ya what? If you can win against me and my bro, I’ll buy all of your cars, no questions asked.”

Chen’s eyes shines. “Heh, pretty confident, aren’t ya?”

The man’s smile is wicked now, a threatening glint in his eyes. “’Course.”

Chen shrugs, an easy smile growing on his face. “Alright then. Let’s get this party started.”

You watch as the man and a friend of his gets into their respective cars. You can’t help but admire their cars; the guy just now has a shiny silver Subaru, not a speck of dirt on it.

Chen scoffs quietly beside you, Kai already getting ready to start. “Pity that car’s gonna get a few scars after tonight.”

“You’re really that confident?” You frown at him, feeling unease tickle your insides. They look tough, and scary. You wonder what kind of deal they made.

“Sure.” Chen winks at you. “Watch me, princess.”

He gets into his car, a white Nissan Skyline. You hear the engines rev to life, the flag girl blowing kisses to the crowd that cheers wildly, hyped for the upcoming race. When the flag goes down, the four cars zoom off, kicking up dirt.

You watch nervously as they glide smoothly down the track, Kai’s car clearly in the lead with the other team a close second. Chen is third. You watch his car intently, praying he’ll be able to override second place, but somehow it seems like that isn’t even his goal.

You watch in confusion as he seems to slow down, inching closer to the car in last place. He’s too close, and you can tell the other guy is nervous, afraid he’ll scratch or bump into his car, and he swerves left, trying hard to avoid him. Chen doesn’t let up though, continuing inching towards the guy’s car until he’s forced against the edges of the track. The guy tries to push back, tilting his car in hopes to get ahead of Chen, but the angle is off and he loses control of his car, spinning off the tracks. Chen speeds up as they come to a curve, going directly in front of the car that is in second place, replacing it. He blocks the car no matter which side it goes, as if Chen can predict his reactions.

He’s rigging the race! You gasp, wondering if anyone else notices, or if they even care. You glance at Chen’s friends, seeing the guy named Yeol smoke carelessly, looking bored out of his mind, his hand that isn’t holding the cigarette seemingly itching for something to do.

Either no one can see, or no one even cares. They just came for a good time, placing bets, drinking and getting high.

When they zoom past the finish line, it’s clear they Kai and Chen have won. The crowd is wild, cheering so loud you think you might go deaf. The other guy gets out of his car angrily, slamming the car door shut and stomping over to Chen, yelling at him.

You can see Chen’s easygoing smile, his careless shrug as Kai takes over. “A win is a win.” You can barely hear him say over the yelling, but you try reading his lips. “It’s our win, big guy.”

“You fucking cheated!” The other guy roars, face red and looking like he might explode at any second.

“What?” Chen looks convincingly shocked and offended. “You don’t have proof, man. Don’t be a sore loser.”

The man seems at loss for words now, sputtering incoherently before he stomps away with his friend.

When Chen and Kai come back, Kai obviously has a bitter look on his face, though he winks and grins at anyone who waves at him—especially the girls.

“Hey, good job guys.” Yeol says, blowing out smoke which you cough at. 

Kai huffs, a growl leaving his lips. “Yeah, whatever.” He pushes through the crowd, seemingly upset.

Chen shrugs at you, giving you a wink. “He’ll drink it off.”

“You rigged the race.” You hiss, eyes narrowing on him. 

He shrugs again, “And?”

“What do you mean ‘and?’” You exclaim in disbelief. “You cheated!”

“Yeah, well we gotta ensure a win somehow.” Chen says lowly, making sure no one hears. “This is our turf. We make the rules. Ain’t no one coming in here, challenge us and win. But it only happens occasionally, when we have a lot to lose. Most of the time we let Kai do his thing—he wins anyways, but sometimes we just need to make sure, ya know?”

You frown, deciding to hold your tongue. You knew they were the types to do illegal things to begin with. You decided to date him despite that. You don’t have any right to say what he’s doing is wrong—everything about him is wrong, but you’re with him regardless, isn’t that right?

“Aw, sweetheart.” He coos, pulling you close, lips finding that sweet spot below your ear. “Don’t be upset. It’s how we do things around here.”

“I’m not upset.” You lie, trying to act nonchalant. You chose him, and there’s no going back.

“How about we go for a ride?” He asks. “Get some air?”

“That sounds nice.” You manage a smile, a little excited you get to see him drive up close. And to get away from the sweaty, loud crowd and flashing lights. A drive sounds really, really nice right now. 

He ushers you towards his car, which is still surrounded by people after having finished the race. They let him through though, some clapping him on the back and giving him high-fives. You feel gazes on you that make you shiver, disgusted and Chen pulls you closer, throwing a glare at whoever looks at you wrong.

He opens the door to the passenger seat for you, making dramatic movements like a gentleman. You can’t help but laugh, getting in. He gets into the driver seat, revving up the engine and you can feel it rumble underneath you.

“This car’s my baby.” He says as he drives off, the crowd opening up a track for him to get out. It’s instantly quiet once he gets out the vicinity of EXO Customs. “92’ Nissan Skyline GT-R R32. Had it since college.”

“College?” You ask, never having head him mention it before. “What’d you study?”

“Art.” He answers, tone a little tighter than usual. His hold on the wheel is loose though, careless. You can’t help but stare at how good he looks driving like this, with his sleeves rolled up, hair pushed back from the wind, a lazy feel to him. “Always loved putting my mark on things. Seemed the obvious choice.”

“What about racing?” You watch him, see the way he glances at the rearview mirror, out the window. His neck is very pretty, you note, every time he turns his head. 

“Eh, racing is just another hobby.” He says casually. “When I met the guys, it’s all they did. Met them during high school. After we got out, I needed money to go to college, and they helped me with it. Couldn’t do it without ‘em.”

“Didn’t your parents pay for tuition?” You frown at that, wondering why an 18 year old kid fresh out of high school did things like that just to get into college.

You see his jaw clench, his hold on the wheel tightening, though his expression stays the same. “They weren’t the best.”

“Oh.” You don’t ask further. You feel like if you pushed it, he might snap at you, or just ignore you.

“Hey,” he says after a while of silence, a hand placed gently on your thigh. “I know a pretty place just up the hill.”

When he parks his car, you look up in awe at the stars glimmering in the sky. You rarely see stars in the middle of the city, but out here, it’s beautiful. You smile widely, counting the stars and wondering if you might be able to get to a million.

He chuckles. “You like it?”

“Yeah.” You beam at him. “Thanks, Chen.”

He seems pleased at your reaction, giving your thigh a squeeze.

“What do you wish for, Chen?” You ask, relaxing your body against the seat.

“I dunno.” He answers. “What about you?”

You think for a moment, watching how the stars shimmered like diamonds. “Maybe for you to be happy.”

He’s silent.

“Hey,” he pushes the seat back, climbing over to the backseat. He settles comfortably, patting his lap. “Come here.”

Hearing the growl in his voice, you instantly feel yourself grow hot. You climb to the back, sitting on his lap, your thighs on either side of him.

“Undress.” He murmurs, lips trailing your collarbone and your fingers are shaky when you peel off your leather jacket. It’s way too hot for that now.

His tongue peeks out to lick the dip of your collarbone, tracing the butterfly he tattooed for you. His tongue is searing on your skin, and his fingers trace circles against your waist.

You feel yourself begin to grow wet already. You move to take off your crop top, letting your breasts loose. 

He grins, pleased by the position as he moves to kiss them, nibbling and sucking, leaving hickeys. You’ve grown used to him leaving hickeys everywhere, and you always try to cover them up with concealer before you go to work.

“Keep going.” He growls against your skin as he feels you stop, arching against his mouth.

You let out a quiet whimper, feeling embarrassed for doing this yourself. Your trembling fingers move to your jeans, and you stand in order to push them off along with your underwear. When you settle back on him, the texture of his pants makes you moan.

“You sound so sexy.” He chuckles, his fingers dancing across your skin, down, down, down to tease at your entrance. “Wet already?”

You let out a soft whine, feeling him stroke you gently. It’s not enough though. You push his hand away, seeing him watch you with both surprise and amusement. You adjust yourself, shifting so you’re settled over his thigh, and you begin to slowly rock yourself.

He chuckles, clearly amused at what you’re trying to do. “Thigh riding, princess? You like this?” He presses his thigh harder against you and you moan, nodding as your hips go a little faster. The rough fabric of his pants adds a delicious bonus to your pleasure.

“Look at you.” He mumbles, his voice low and deep, vibrating through you and you clench harder, going faster to get more friction. “You’re so wet you’re staining my pants.”

“Chen.” You breathe out, your cheeks flushed and sweat beginning to bud on your skin. “I—”

“Want some help?” He grins, fingers coming to rub your clit slowly. “You gonna come, princess?”

You nod your head, pressing your forehead against his shoulder, letting his scent fill you. “G-Go faster.”

He complies, rubbing you faster as you continue going back and forth on his thigh, wanting to clench around something. You can feel your orgasm approach swiftly, almost there and you move your hips more desperately against him, your moans increasing in volume.

His fingers stop, and his hands come to hold your hips, halting you. “Wait princess,” he chuckles darkly as you whimper and whine, trying to shimmy your hips to no avail. “I can’t let you have all the fun now, can I?”

He unbuckles his pants and you wait in absolute torture as he slowly pulls out his dick, already rock hard with arousal. He sees how eager you are, so he leans back with his arms thrown over the seats, waiting for you to make your move. 

You hold him gently in your palms, running your fingers over his length, feeling smug when you hear him hiss at the feeling. You stroke his head, feeling the precum beading already. Some other time you’ll give him a blow job, you decide. But not today, because you’re too needy.

You pump him a few times, getting him ready although you know he’s plenty ready already. You slowly lift yourself, using his shoulders as leverage before you line yourself up with him, dropping as slowly as you can, clenching yourself around him torturously as revenge.

You feel his breath quicken, his hot puffs of breath mingling with yours. He holds your hips steady as you sink down fully, staying there for a moment to adjust.

“Fuck.” He swears, pressing his sweaty forehead against yours. “You’re so tight like this.”

You clench again at his deep, sexy voice, and he immediately growls in return. You get a better grip on his shoulders, wanting to kiss him but he’s already working on your neck, sucking the spot under your ear. You brace yourself, lifting yourself up before sinking down again, mewling at that beautiful feeling.

His hold on you tightens as he helps you find a rhythm, rocking him. You slowly build your pace, increasing in speed as you try to get a better position. He angles himself, timing it right and pushing up whenever you come back down, hitting your sweet spot. You throw your head back, practically screaming as he does so.

He adds his fingers, rubbing your clit again as your orgasm builds. Your grip on him tightens as your legs begin to grow weak from the pleasure. It’s hard to keep the pace, beginning to become sloppy. 

“You close?” He breathes out and you nod vigorously, whimpering when his fingers and hips move even faster. “Me too, princess. Cum with me.”

You nod again, finding it hard to breathe in this small space. He body is so close, so hot against yours and you suddenly wish he had taken all his clothes off too so you could feel his skin on yours.

“Ah, I-I’m—” You almost sob as you finally reach your high, feeling the pleasure spike and wrack through your body. You shudder, grinding hard against him and with a few more thrusts he comes too.

You continue rocking, grinding against him even after your highs, and he squeezes your hips to stop you. “Good job, princess.” He presses a kiss to your temple, the edge of your jaw as you whimper in response.

He removes you from him, getting some tissues he has in his car to clean you up before helping you back into your clothes.

“Ready to head back?” He asks and you nod, settling back into your seat, trying to catch your breath. He chuckles as he revs the engine again.

Previous Chapter [M]│Next Chapter

The Art of Sin Mini Masterlist

EXO Customs Collab Masterlist

A/N: Whew I finally finished writing this! I hope you enjoyed it~ (I know I am *wink wink*)

Tags: @ninibears-erigom @baekwell--tart @fairyyeols @suhoerections @kpop---scenarios @skjdln @yeoldontknow @kyungseokie @mint-yooxgi @loser-dot-com @writingstuffandmore @enchanting-exo @vivianhuynh77 @dear-fake-diary @weirdsofagirls @wongxiexie @lovebuginlove @noonaofjungkook @thesoondongiefiles @joolsreadsfics @bluepsycopanda @sebootyforlife @yerimdaes @the-freefeather @xcharlottemikaelsonx​​ @shxrl4747​

Tell me if you want to be tagged!

©kimjongdaely

Talk to me!

[lokilickedme]

(Okay, I’m going to do this in probably 3 parts because it’s long)

So The Department sorta happened because I wanted to get back into a regular weekly-updating online fic because, frankly, two reasons:

1) I’m worn out/exhausted/a bit burned out from working on novels and very little of anything else for the last year and a half, and

2) I crave/need the instant validation of the comment section at AO3, which you don’t get when you write a book :/

So I called a break, put away my manuscripts for a couple months, and am just indulging in some fun writing for a little while.  And since I wanted something new (sorry WIPs, your time will come again) this is what we ended up with.

I don’t remember exactly what made me go with the police department premise.  The potential for assholery and rampant egomania, most likely?  Well, you know I love that shit when it hides something slightly more noble underneath...and I think I wanted a big ensemble cast because I just adore the dynamics that can occur in groups of disparate personalities who have known each other for a long time.  That way they interact when they know each others’ secrets and there’s that one person new to the group who isn’t in on any of the jokes?  Good stuff right there.

I do remember that the first ideas for this story came to me during the Professor Jeff’s Super Science Show at the library (yeah your guess is as good as mine on that but it happens literally every time).  But if I’m being honest, I’d say it probably had more to do with Benny Hill than anything.  I have this bad habit of sitting on the couch with my laptop on my knees, headphones on, head back, inventing scenes in my head that go along with whatever music I’m listening to.  I’ve got this one insane playlist full of goofy tunes my 7-year old has requested for staging Thomas The Tank Engine crash scenes (don’t ask) and on this particular night that’s what I was listening to because why not.  On that playlist is a 30-minute loop of the Benny Hill Theme.  And all I could see in my head was a foot chase on ice and snow between a female officer, an out of shape Chief of police, a giraffe-legged office assistant, and a probably methed-up wannabe criminal who didn’t actually do anything major but was running anyway because he was bored.  It struck me funny and I toyed with the idea of sticking it into something I already had started, because I do love me some chaotic slapstick.

So the next day I’m driving the boys home from the Super Science Show and I’ve been playing around with it in my head again, and it’s taking shape into something that I know I’m going to have to work with.  We pass the Pupuseria Virolena Salvadoran restaurant downtown, and I start laughing because I’m suddenly hearing David Tennant trying to say that in his Scottish accent.

On the spot I named him Hawk and made him Captain.  And now we have one of our characters, and by the time we pull up in our driveway ten minutes later I’ve got stuff needing to be written down right now.

(the rest is under the cut for length)

Chapter 1 - Prologue - Your Boatload of Bad Decisions Has Left The Harbor

I was so anxious to get into the story but it needed an introduction, or else Greta being in this podunk town wouldn’t have any weight.  So we’re introduced to our heroine, who isn’t so much a heroine as just a decent if slightly too self confident special division officer who had some bad luck.  It’s not elaborated on yet in the story, though it’s heavily referenced multiple times that she disobeyed an order and made the decision to continue a high speed pursuit that had been called off by her superior officer, the above-mentioned Captain Hawkins, whom Greta has something of a relationship with (yeah they’re screwing, what of it).  And in the wake of that decision, Greta’s partner is killed and she’s brought up on charges, suspended, ordered to counseling, and finally shipped off to a small town in Minnesota so she can keep working while her final fate is decided by an investigative committee back in LA.

The opening chase scene was written from things I learned when I was a kid and my dad did vehicle tweaks for the Fort Worth police department from his auto shop.  The officers used to hang out drinking Cokes and telling stories while dad made (possibly illegal) modifications to their cars.  I was there a lot, sitting under his work bench with my books and pencils, listening to everything and remembering it all.  And I thought it was so damn cool.  So here we are.  What else was I gonna do with that information?  Might as well put it to use if it’s gonna be taking up real estate in my head for all these years.

For the record, I really liked Greta’s partner Joe and hated to kill him - but we needed a catalyst, and the cheerful best friend who sings Italian arias during chases while joyfully blasting out windshields is always gonna be the loser in the goner lottery.  For once the male hero dies to further the female lead’s storyline.

Heh, take that Marvel.

Anyway, sorry Joe.  There will be more about you in later chapters, so...gone but not forgotten.

Chapter 2 - Minnewhatever

This part starts out with the last bit of backstory we need to proceed.  Hawk sending Greta off to Minnesota, a place whose name she never does remember or say correctly.  She doesn’t figure she’s actually going to be there long enough to bother learning it, but Hawk informs her that her exile is likely to last at least a year, and he gives her very little reassurance that she won’t be serving every minute of her sentence.

Greta’s feeling a little betrayed here.  She and Hawk have been sort of a thing for a while, friends and colleagues and lovers, but he’s washing his hands of the entire situation and she’s left angry and a bit bereft.  But she still figures he’ll do something to get her out of it, if she’s patient and behaves herself in the new place.

Fast forward to day one in Weemeetwa.  While drowning her aggravation in a bottle of the good stuff, Greta meets her first new acquaintance and decides to just go with the cranky fuck-it attitude that she’s been harboring since the incident, gets shitfaced, and goes home with the guy.  This might have been a dual-purpose shag; Greta’s still feeling betrayed and abandoned by Hawk, so it’s a screw-you that he’ll never find out about - but that doesn’t stop it from feeling good in a vengeful sort of way.  Plus it’s cold and she’s alone and the guy - Andy, a tall sweet longhaired cutiepie with an Irish accent - is all too willing to buy her a drink and take her home for some cuddles.

In the morning Greta wakes up in a strange place full of groaning regret and ends up giving Andy a ride to the station.  She doesn’t count on seeing him again, so there’s no breath wasted on goodbyes.

Chapter 3 -  A Logging Truck, A Mountain, and A Blonde Walk Into A Bar

Now we meet most of the department.  Creeley, a gruff roughhouser with a rude streak forty miles wide, Sarah, the only other female in the department and possibly the only person alive who can keep the boys under control, Kevin, the quiet dispatch agent with an impressive mountain impersonation skill, and finally (for the moment) Chief, the slightly too good-looking and highly put-upon boss of them all.

I knew I wanted Tom Hiddleston to play Chief Tommy Davis.  This is Kong Skull Island-era Hiddleston crossed with The Night Manager, with a handful of extra pounds around the middle and a frustrated sigh that goes on forever.  He’s meant to be an ex hockey player who was waylaid on his way to the major leagues, so he’s strong and sturdy, but an injury benched him years ago and a career in small-town law enforcement has put him a bit to pasture.  Middle aged, somewhere between 40 and 45.  He’s got some stuff in his past but he’s happy now, for the most part, just living his life watching over the town.

Jason Momoa is Bobby Creeley, for obvious reasons.  I knew I wanted a rowdy, rude, loudmouthed team member that’s always crossing everyone, but who everyone knows will be there no matter what if anything goes down.  He’s instantly Greta’s nemesis from the moment she walks in the door.  Gigantic and shaggy with a permanently amused nature and a fear of literally nothing, he’s simultaneously everyone’s best friend and worst enemy.

Sarah Lancashire has been finding her way into a lot of my fics lately as side characters, so it’s no surprise she ended up here as Sarah Pearl.  Steely, tough, and highly immune to the idiocy around her, Sarah is the worn out voice of common sense that the department is running perilously short on.  She’s also my first and foremost girl crush, and I’ll admit right now that I wrote an AU ending almost immediately that involved Sarah and Greta ending up together.  It would be natural to assume Sarah would fall into the default role of mom to the group, but there’s a whole lot of oh hell nope wrapped around that trope.  She would set them all on fire if anyone would let her have some matches, but Chief made a rule against that a long damn time ago.

Dave Bautista has been hanging around the back door of my muse stable for the longest, just minding his own business and waiting his turn, but I never really had any place to stick him.  Well Drax, your time has come baby.  I chose him to play Kevin Saylor based on his GoTG scene in which he tries to convince the crew he’s invisible.  And that’s Kevin, in a nutshell.  Huge and intimidating but quiet and intensely matter-of-fact in manner, he’s in charge of dispatch and immediately inspires Greta’s hatred of using the radio.

My first (and really only) faceclaim for Greta Morley was Zoe Saldana, but I waffled briefly for a couple of weeks, trying to cater to a few readers who told me they wanted to imagine themselves in the role.  I planned to stick with that, and I tried, I promise I did.  But every time Greta opened her mouth I heard Zoe, and by the time she went on her less than fleet-footed pursuit of Wilson with the longsuffering Andy by her side, she was locked in.  Greta’s harboring some serious regret and raw emotional wounds from her not too distant past, and some time out in the American Midwest should be a much needed recovery sabbatical.  Should be.  But isn’t gonna.

Speaking of Andy...Andrew Hozier-Byrne was and is the only person I ever considered for the role of Andy Burns.  Too tall, too clumsy, too cute, too sweet, just a whole bunch of too everything - he was perfect for the role and I may or may not have written it exclusively for him.  Okay yeah, I wrote it exclusively for him.  Andy’s the local cryptid, nobody really knows a lot about him.  He may or may not be a drug dealer.  He may or may not be officially employed by the police department.  He may or may not be Irish or hypoglycemic or a blackout drunk or as goofy as he seems.  Nobody really knows, and to be honest nobody really cares, because if you need it done Andy can do it...if he can remember you asked him to do it.

So Greta has arrived, for better or for worse.  Cree immediately starts in with the sexist remarks and butchering her name, a favor she returns by embarking on what will become a neverending trail of obliterated mis-renderings of the town’s name.  Creeley and Kevin kick off another of many running gags by arguing over whether or not anyone knew she was coming, and before things can get too stupid, Chief makes his first appearance.

And now things start to get interesting.

To be continued at chapter 4, Randy Andy and The Chief of Weemeetwa

@whatevervivie

[coollyinterferes]

GENERAL.

full name.  Robert E. O. Speedwagon nicknames. The “official” one would be Boss among his mates and to the whole lot of ruffians in Ogre Street (the one people keep wrongly translating as “bro” in some of the jjba translations). Other than that, he’s not used to being called nicknames on a regular basis, though some people he’s crossed paths with seem to have a thing for giving him nicknames derived from his last name (Speeb, Speeds, etc). Depending on the closeness between him and the person calling him by a nickname, he might be like “please stop” or won’t mind at all Uncle Speeds/Uncle Speedy and similars apply only until he’s become the uncle figure of George II and, later on, Joseph and Holly, too. height. 5′11′‘ / 180 cm age. 25-28-ish in the main verse, though I play him in literally any stage of his life upon request. zodiac. libra / pig (in the Chinese zodiac) languages. English. Some Spanish, French, Italian and a variety of languages he’s managed to pick up during his many journeys around the world (enough to hold basic conversations, usually), as well as the bits of Chinese he’s managed to grasp from what Kenpo (Li) has taught him.

PHYSICAL CHARACTERISTICS.

hair colour.  somewhere between light and golden blond. eye colour. chestnut brown. skin tone. light skin, making him somewhat prone to getting sunburnt if he’s not careful when he’s out in the sun for long periods of time. body type. mesomorph. accent.  Cockney. dominant hand.  right, but is quite skilled with both hands, posture. He usually stands up straight, but never overdoing it, really, just... kinda doing it in a casual way, enough for him to be comfortable but trying to keep it “gentlemanly”. He keeps it a bit in the “dominant” side too when he’s in the slums (can’t show weaknesses over there). He tends to slouch a bit when he’s sitting and relaxing, though. scars. His trademark scar that runs from the top of his nose all the way down to his jaw on the left side of his face is the most notorious one at first glance. He has a considerable number of other noticeable scars all over his body (chest, arms/hands and thighs, mainly), though. Most of them come from his criminal lifestyle, knife fights, brawls, one from a time he was shot at, some around his wrists and forearms from the time he was learning to use his bowler hat and so on. He’s also acquired a new set of scars during PB, like some on his hands from the burns he sustained during the fire at the Joestar mansion as well as a new, large, one across his chest that he got from thawing Zeppeli’s frozen arm. This one isn’t as noticeable as the rest, but it’s visible still. tattoos.  None, but he was “persuaded” into getting a prince albert (more like: lost a bet and had to get one, lol). i know that’s a piercing and not a tattoo but i had to mention it since i rarely ever do it *shrug* most noticeable features. Does his loud voice count here? Uh, his cleanly shaven face, his long blond mane and his choices of colorful accesories and stuff (most of these partly respond to the Gay Etiquette™ of his time but also to his own preference since he genuinely likes them, too) could be what stands out the most at first glance. The large scar on his face, too. His thick Cockney accent, though this one stands out to foreigners and people he’s just met mostly. His loyalty and undying devotion and support towards those he genuinely cares about.

CHILDHOOD.

place of birth.  London (East), England. hometown.  London (East), England. birth weight / height. He was born to a poor family in the slums, so there are no official records on the matter. He was most likely born a bit underweight given the conditions his parents lived in. manner of birth.  Natural birth. first words. “dadda”. siblings.  none. parents. both of his parents are deceased. His mother died shortly after giving birth to him due to a poorly treated infection derived from it. His father passed away in unclear conditions by the time Robert was 5 years old. parental involvement. Robert has no recollection of his mother given how young he was by the time she died. The same can’t be said about his father, though, since he was raised by him: A poor, hard-working, and caring man. Between the working conditions at the time for the lower classes –long ass work days with ridiculously low pays– and exhaustion, among other things, his father got very little free time to spend with him. However, that didn’t mean the relationship between them was sour. It was all the opposite, actually, as they would spend as much time as possible together, playing together, his father telling him stories and talking to Robert about his mother and how wonderful she was and so on. Sadly for little Robbie, this only lasted a few years, as his father was unfairly imprisoned and was found dead in his cell just a week or so later in unclear conditions. I’ll cover the whole subject of his parents in a separate post later on but, yeah, all things considered, the parental involvement, while not perfect, was as good and dedicated as it could be in those conditions (and now you also know where he got that 'parental’ side he has towards the Joestar children from).

ADULT LIFE.

occupation. He’s job hunting/switching jobs in the main verse, trying to find his place in the world after leaving his criminal lifestyle behind (for the most part, at least). current residence. He still lives in Ogre Street in the Main Verse, but he doesn’t partake in criminal activities as often as he once did.This is why he sometimes can be seen sporting a new bruise or more, since some of the more unruly thugs there are trying to climb to the Boss spot now that Robert has shown clear intentions of changing his ways and, thus will try to pick up fights with him (there’s a lot more to explain on this matter but i’ll cover that on a separate post) close friends. Main verse: Jonathan Joestar. Tattoo and Kenpo (named Li, here), obvs. Later on, Erina (Pendleton) Joestar, too. relationship status. Single and crushingpiningfddsfdgfh financial status. Main verse: Ehhh, let’s just say it’s seen better days (since there are times he runs out of moneys and thus doesn’t have anything to eat for the day...or for days ;;;; ). Future verses/PostPBpreBT verses: You know the deal: He rich af. driver’s license. Naw. But he does drive that car shown in the manga from time to time. His peers don’t let him very often cause he’s nearly run over some folks before, lol. criminal record.  Officially? None, really. Which is kind of a feat given his role as one of the biggest and most influential ganglords in the rowdiest area of London. He’s done a lot of illicit things, though, which include but are not limited to: Thieving (pick pocketing, plundering, etc),  murder, fights/brawls (sometimes involving knives and/or guns), etc. There’s also the fact that he’s a homosexual man in a time where "homosexual acts” were illegal and could be punished by the law, so I guess it counts, too?

SEX & ROMANCE.

sexual orientation.  homosexual. romantic orientation. homoromantic. preferred emotional role.  submissive | dominant | switch |  unsure preferred sexual role.  submissive  |  dominant  |  switch (top leaning) |  sex repulsed libido. Average. turn on’s. subtle but sensual touching. He’s particularly sensitive in the neck and chest area. His thighs, too. He will be putty in his dear’s hands with ease, really, since sex works as an extension to his feelings and emotions towards the other person when it’s a long-term relationship (as opposed to one night stands/casual relationships –which aren’t very common for him anyway–, where there are no truly deep feelings involved and sex is just a mean to release some stress). During the act, he has a thing for having his hair gently pulled and, to a lesser extent, giving and receiving love bites, especially in those areas that are normally covered by clothes. This one is somewhat related to the time he lives in (a largely prudish and homophobic era), in which it is best to keep things as under the table as possible, especially when both parties involved happen to be males, but it also works as little secret reminders to his dearest of his love towards him. turn off’s. Probably overly kinky stuff and “weird” stuff like scat and watersports and stuff like that. He’s more into the soul-bonding aspect of it all, really.

love language. He’s all for making his dearest one feel loved in every single possible way. He will always do anything and everything in his power to make his bf feel special, be it by giving him massages, tender touches, holding hands, brushing/petting his hair, cuddling with him, and so on. He is very physical on this aspect (would totally be all up for pdas if Victorian society wasn’t so uptight about it even among m/f couples) so, as long as his bf is comfortable with it, he sure af will be giving him lots of love that way. And the spoiling doesn’t stop there, cause he will always do his best to buy his bf presents, even before he makes it big in the oil industry (he will save as much money as he can from whatever his current job is and spend it on his dear), with flowers being some of his fave presents to give. And since he’s some into the language of flowers, it goes without saying that every bouquet he gives is like a little love letter to his bf. Actual letters are another part of his love language. Not as common as the flowers or the gifts, tho (since he’s always been more into showing his love via actions and not just with words). So, yeah, he’s the kind of man who loves to shower his dear with lots of love, affection and devotion in any way he can~ He’s also into doing little things for his dearest, such as getting him lunch, helping him with whatever he might need help with and being there for him always.

relationship tendencies. He’s usually more on the chill and confident side when it’s something more casual and less serious. However, when there are genuine feelings involved, he tends to becoming a blushing mess and a big pile of nerves too, especially whenever he falls for someone with a higher status coughjonathancough. And it’s simple: He’s quite self-conscious, so he’s always kinda afraid that other person will see him the way he sees himself, with all his flaws and some of the unredeemable things he’s done and so on. On top of that, he doesn’t truly know how to properly handle genuine affection aimed at him and also doesn’t feel deserving of it, too, so... Yeah. He usually has a bit of a hard time when it comes to relationships, but that's usually due to all the raging homophobia in Victorian times and how he doesn’t want to tarnish his dear’s reputation with some “gross” and “indecent” stuff, as homosexuality was labelled back then. However, he tends to be a bit more open and relaxed in general in private for those same reasons. As for his insecurities, he will gradually feel more at ease as time goes by (reassurance and stuff from his dearest will do wonders here) since he’ll be a little less afraid to fuck up, too, now that he knows his dear loves him back.

MISCELLANEOUS.

character’s theme song. there’s a bunch I could go with for his theme song tbh, but I think I’m gonna go with Keep Pushin’ by REO Speedwagon, this time. hobbies to pass the time. travelling, reading, getting into trouble, gambling, spending time with friends and loved ones, learning new stuff, etc. mental illnesses. He has some, ehh, mental baggage from his days of extreme poverty as an orphan child in London’s streets, some of which comes up every once in a while in the shape of dreams that feel more like vivid memories/nightmares. He also developed certain symptoms of PTSD, mostly after all the events involving Dio, such as occasional restless/sleepless nights as well as occasional nightmares, feeling terribly upset at certain memories/events (such as Zeppeli’s death or the tragic fate of Jonathan), and so on. That said, he also suffers from survivor’s guilt. There’s the occasional depression over all that stuff and small bouts of anxiety over “what if Dio ain’t dead yet!?” since, well, the guy managed to survive near death 2 times by the end of PB (just imagine the pain and distress it would have caused him to hear he not only survived a 3rd time, but that he also stole Jonathan’s body to continue with his wicked ways). None of this is diagnosed, though. There was also a period of time he lost interest in almost everything after Jonathan’s death and slipped back (and way too hard) into his old ways for a while. physical illnesses. None, just the occasional pain that comes from poorly treated old wounds. left or right brained. Right with bits of left. fears. Losing his (remaining) loved ones, either by rejection or death, even though he’s gone through loss a lot of times already. Seeing them hurt or just generally being unhappy, if that counts? Seeing Dio coming back once more even after Jonathan’s ultimate sacrifice. self confidence level.  Fluctuates, really. He’s quite confident within the slums but, out of it? He becomes a bit more self-conscious, mostly due to the hard views society had back then towards scarred people as well as poor/questionable people as well as homosexual men. It all goes down the drain when a love interest comes into play, because all that self-conciousness hits twice harder when he’s around this person, hence why he’s often an anxious mess around them orz He becomes a lot more confident as time goes by, though, and starts feeling more at ease, too. vulnerabilities. Probably the fact that he wears his heart on his sleeve all the time. Same with him being a hot-blooded man, so he’s prone to go head first into things sometimes and running his mouth, too. He’s also a bit too reckless in his ways sometimes, so he’s prone to getting wounds in batlle and stuff (they aren’t usually too serious, tho, since he’s fairly good at avoiding what could may be fatal blows)

tagged by: No one. As usual, Speeb sees Speeb steals~ tagging:  @joestarbrothers @starburdened @noblemanjoestar // @jojoestarzz // @fairladyjoestar @pineapple-muses @cafeonthecorner @a-bizarre-starline @hierophvnted @jojoingjoseph @altarfated @insatiablelustforpower @digimonlover09 @notsodaily-smolkakyoin @silvercharict @heartshredded @foxglxved @kindersturm @musaesidereum @trashcan-fulla-muses @wildberryoras @tinymischiefmaker // @imhereforthefish and everyone else who wants to do this!! Just take it and feel free to tag me back or not (whatever you feel more comfortable with, my guy, i’m not gonna judge you B] )

[reneehearts]

Sunrise or sunset? Sunrise

Are you mentally ill? Yes

Are you physically ill? Yes, chronic illness

What is the most expensive thing you have bought? A college education

Do you have a job? Yes

Are you in school? Yes

Are you a dropout? No

Are you in college? Grad school

Introvert or extrovert? Ambivert leaving towards introvert

What do you think when you look at your body? Usually I think I look pretty good unless I’m pms-ing or bloating/feel like I ate a lot

What have others said when they look at your body? You’re tiny

Do you have a particular song that you feel deeply? A few

Talk about a time in your life where you have felt most alive? Dancing onstage

Are you confident wearing a bikini? For the most part

Can you look people in the eyes while talking? Yes

Has anything terrible happened to you? I mean yeah but in the grand scheme of things, no

Has anything wonderful happened to you? Of course

Favorite part of your personality? I’m genuine, observant, respectful, generous and loyal

Least favorite part of your personality? I can be insecure, a little bit of a loner, get jealous, and withdraw if uncomfortable

Favorite part of your body? Abs

Least favorite part of your body? Inner thighs

Favorite quote? “The higher you soar the smaller you appear to those who can’t fly”

Do you have friendships with all genders? Yes

Do you have a good relationship with your father? Yes

Do you have a good relationship with your mother? Yes

Do you have a good relationship with your siblings? For the most part

Have you ever been hurt physically or mentally by a family member? Mentally, yes

Have you ever had a near death experience? I felt like I did when I passed out the other day, my life flashed before my eyes

Do you know anyone who has taken their own life? Not personally

Have you ever tried to take your own life? No

Biggest lie you have told? I really don’t know, probably something to do with ED

Do you follow any conspiracies? Nah

Do you believe in a New World Order? Nah

Do you respect your government and the way your country is run? Hell no

Is there currently any strife in your country? Yes

Have you ever been displaced within your country? No

Are your friendships healthy? Yes

Are you currently fighting with a friend? No

Are you jealous of a friend? Why? A little bc she has her life together, got a PhD and then her dream job, she’s getting married and her family is so awesome

Do you believe in the Illuminati? Nah

Do you think any celebrities are associated with the Illuminati? Who? No

How can people tell you are nervous? I fidget/shake my leg/tap my foot, twirl my hair, bite my fingers

How can people tell you are sad? I get extremely quiet and withdrawn and possibly cry

Do you ever express your true feelings? Sometimes

Regrets in your life? I try not to live with regret but there are a couple things

Achievements in your life? Graduated college, did AmeriCorps

What did people say about you in school? I was quiet

What did you say about people in school? Nothing ??

Is there something you have never told anyone? Yes

Have you committed an illegal act? I mean like driving over the speed limit and underage drinking

If you had two days to spend one million dollars how would you spend it? Buy a house, rescue dogs, plan a vacation, give some to family

What were your aspirations at age 5, 10, 15, 18? 5- probably a princess 😂, 10- a teacher, 15- a dancer, 18- not sure at all but went to college

Describe your first kiss? Was it how you imagined? It was at the beach at night with a guy I thought was so hot and had a huge crush on. It was honestly amazing I couldn’t have asked for a better first kiss

Growing up were you in a wealthy, average, or low income household? Average

Are you from a broken marriage? Nope

Have you been raised by a solo parent? Nope

Do you know both your parents? Yes

What colour eyes, hair and skin do you have? Hazel/brown, blonde, pale

Have you abused drugs or alcohol? A lil but not to an extreme where I have gone to rehab

What languages can you speak? English, un peu francais and italiano

Do you conform to your societies standards? In most ways yes I guess

Do you cry often? If something happens

Do you tell people what you think of them? If I like them yes, if not I keep that to my self

Are you comfortable accepting compliments? Yeah

Are you comfortable giving compliments? Yup

Is any mental illness hindering your life? Kinda yeah

Is any physical illness hindering your life? Nah not really

Do you keep up with current events? For the most part

What’s the latest news in the world you have heard/read? Impeachment

What have you done today? Gone to work, try to tie up loose ends with a new internship, my financial aid, and a job schedule

Do you sleep well? Generally yes

Do you sleep badly? Maybe once in a while

Have you ever hurt anyone because you were hurting? Probably

Has anyone ever hurt you because they were hurting? Yes

Have you ever had to end a friendship/relationship? Why? Yes an relationship bc we were growing apart

Have you ever stopped someone from hurting themselves? I think so

Has anyone ever stopped you from hurting yourself? Yes

Do you like your laugh? Usually yes unless I snort haha

Are you preparing for an apocalypse? And what kind? Uh no

Do you have any funny family stories? Um TONS

Are you religious? Not really

Do you like to watch true crime shows or movies? Sometimes

Are you interested in cults? No

Would you like to raise a family in your country? I mean I probably will but not really

List some things you wanted in your childhood but never got? To be a professional dancer or a teacher

Is there a large age gap between you and a sibling? A decent one 5.5 years

Are you from a blended family? No

Do you believe in marriage? Why/Why not? I personally do bc I like the commitment but I have lost some faith in the idea bc of the amount of cheating and stuff I see in marriages

What is the nicest thing anyone has said to you? I wish everyone was as nice as you

Do you keep a journal? I used to

Would anyone be hurt by reading it? Maybe a little

Do you have children? No

Have you been pregnant? No

List your favorite movies? Remember the Titans, the lion king

List your favorite people? I mean like my family and close friends

Talk about the birthmarks and scars on your body? I have a bunch of scars just from falling as a kid and I have a birthmark on my inner thigh

Do you look after yourself? Yeah

Do you put yourself or others first? Depends on the situation

Are you happy today? Eh

Are you loved? Yeah

[bvidzsoo]

Backseat of your Cadillac

     Thank you @everythinkpop once again for the moodboard!

 Author: bvidzsoo

 Warning: swearing

 Pairing: Oh Sehun x female reader

 Word count:

 Summary: Women can be many things...but Choi Y/N is not your usual girl. She’s rude and not afraid to say whatever is on her mind. Her father being a car mechanic, she grew up around cars and it shouldn’t be a surprise that her passion are cars...and illegal racing. Oh Sehun, one of the best drivers of his generation just loves to tease you, but maybe it all started when you actually beat him at a race. Who was best, Y/N or Sehun? Sometimes people can’t seem to stay away from each other.

 A/N: That long awaited Sehun racer one shot is here. This happens in the Race Fast & Die Hard universe, so it’s not a must to read those two one shots...but I think some things would be more clear, so here it is!  Race Fast & Die Hard  

    Women can be many things. They can be pretty little things in the daylight, and killer bitches at nightfall. I’m like that, a sweetheart at day, an unbearable at night. Now don’t get me wrong, that was more of a metaphor for you to understand the lifestyle I have. But I should start at the beginning, since everyone has something like that. I grew up in a simple, modest family. My father is a well known and really talented car mechanic, while my mother is a very lovely housewife. I had the perfect life, never bothered by a thing. That’s how I was and still am, uncaring and always looking forward. I always aimed for big things, for something big that could offer me just the best. So that’s how I ended up working at a very famous company, being a secretary that was paid super well monthly. I never had anything to complain about, except that my boss could be a whiny ass and it was annoying, but really...I love her a lot. But this was the daytime Y/N, night time Y/N is an actual badass that drives sports cars and has boys calling her out for beating their asses at races. Thanks to my father I grew up around cars and became passioned by them at a really young age, that actually extended and now still exists. Many women like cars because they are pretty and instantly think if you have a good car, you hit the jackspot because your man has money. Which is pretty true, but I’m not like that. I love to sit inside a car and just feel the engine rumbling and that adrenaline that comes within when I speed down the roads. Don’t even get me started when you have to race and show who’s the boss. I love doing that, it makes me feel young, like I have no worries in this big and bad world. But once the night ends, I’m back to being my average self that is actually insecure about many things and even if I have a strong front, I care...a lot. Because that’s how I was raised, to always care but hide it. Which sometimes is good, mostly when you have a guy hanging on your neck called, Oh Snothun. He is awfully, handsome, but super annoying. I know him because we usually go to the same races and because he’s a cocky asshole that thought messing with me would be fun. In the end it really was, because I beat the snots ass. It was so amazing, that shocked and angry face when I came in first. Amazing, really. Oh god, I misspelled his name again, it’s Oh Sehun, but I actually prefer calling him Snothun, even though he’s annoyingly handsome.

But he’s not essential now, right? Why am I even thinking about him when I need to focus on punching in the new schedule for my boss? Right, because Oh Snothun had been distracting me lately and it’s so amazingly annoying. How a boy can just snatch my mind so suddenly, concerning if you ask me.

“Y/N!” My boss hollered from her office and I rolled my eyes before standing up and walking to her.

“Yes, Miss Jung?” I smiled sweetly at her, trying to hide my irritation. I won a race last night so I was busy getting wasted and partying, my apologies.

“Where’s my coffee?” She raised her eyebrows, lips puckering.

“In the coffee maker” I answered snappily, making her role her eyes.

“Well please, go and get it” She shushed me out and I grimaced as I closed the door. Seriously, woman needs to calm her tits sometimes. Can’t complain though, my salary is high so we must be nice!

Walking down the hallway, I went to the small break room, greeting the co-workers that were already inside.

“Did Sassypants get her order?” My good friend, Jennie, raised her eyebrows when I huffed. Amazing, I forgot that my boss ordered on Monday some new laptops and some calligraphy program.

“Shit, I forgot” I made the coffee quietly, leaning against the counter.

“What would you do without me?” Jennie chuckled, turning towards Donghae, our hot co-worker.

“Probably suffer with boss whining all day” I muttered, turning towards the coffee that was made.

“I don’t whine that much” Came a new voice, making me go stiff. Shit, she heard me speaking bad about her again, this definitely isn’t the first time.

“Sorry” I muttered, pouring the coffee in a mug and handing it to the boss.

“Thanks” Miss Jung smiled, sitting down at the round table.

“What’s up, Krystal?” Donghae asked with a grin, writing something down in his notebook.

“Tired” She sighed and I sat down beside her, leaning back in my seat. Seems like we are having a break now.

“Like all of us” Jennie shrugged, scrolling through the news “Oh shit, Mino and Sunmi broke up? How did we not hear about this?”

“Shindong is a lazy ass, probably didn’t go to get the news first” Donghae rolled his eyes, reading the news from Jennie’s phone.

“I told you guys, we should have just made Sejeong the editor-in-chef” I pursed my lips, glancing at Miss Boss through my round glasses.

“Don’t start that again” Krystal rolled her eyes “She’s still a rookie, Shindong has more experience”

“And he’s slacking off lately” I huffed, placing my cup down a little too forcefully “He’s getting too confident. It’s not the first time”

“But he still is the best, I’m not firing him” Krystal crossed her arms in front of her, glancing at me with a pretty annoyed face.

“Yeah, yeah” I rolled my eyes, grimacing again. I’ll get myself fired one day if I keep being like this.

“Y/N, where’s that order I asked you to get for me?” Krystal’s eyebrows furrowed as she turned her body towards me “I ordered it on Monday—It’s been four days since then”

“Well” I made a popping sound with my lips as I grinned at her “I pretty much forgot”

“Y/N” Krystal groaned, rolling her eyes “Call them right now”

“Yes, yes...Miss Boss” I groaned too, standing up and walking out the room, into the hallway. I dialled the number the company sent for me to call and waited until someone picked up.

“Speed Delivery, how may I help you?” The voice was masculine, deep.

“Speed? I don’t think so” I rolled my eyes “I sent an order on Monday and I still haven’t gotten it”

“You did? Give me a name” The guy said with a sigh. I should be sighing not him!

“Krystal Jung” I pursed my lips as there was silence on the other, clicking of board hearable.

“Yes, I found your order” The guy said “It should be there in a few days”

“Few days, I don’t have a few days, okay? You had four days to deliver it, what are you waiting for?” I scoffed, growing annoyed. Boss couldn’t wait, I’m never ordering from them again.

“Miss, we are pretty busy and we can’t deliver your order from one day to the other” The guy’s voice grew annoyed as well “It’ll be there in two days”

“Amazing, thanks” I hang up after the guy bid farewell and walked back inside the break room.

“We should write about the new fashion week in Paris” Jennie was just saying “We can send Yesung since he’s all for fashion. That would be something, what do you think?”

“Sure, I’ll speak with him” Donghae muttered with a grin, noting it down in his notebook.

“Speak with the designer personally” Miss Boss muttered with a stern face “I want the best pictures and I want an interview with him as well”

“Noted” Donghae grinned, looking at me as I came to a stop behind Krystal.

“I spoke with the delivery company, it should be here in two days” I spoke loudly, making Krystal look back at me.

“Good job, I hope it’s really two days” She muttered with a frown.

“At least now I know not to order from them anymore” I shrugged and Jennie nodded as she popped a lollypop inside her mouth.

“Okay, everyone!” Miss Boss rose up from the table, clapping her hands “Everyone get back to work—Y/N, please call Chanyeol and tell him I want a VIP ticket for the next opera this weekend”

“One ticket or more?” I rose an eyebrow as I followed her out.

“I’m bringing Siwon with myself, I need some new footage for the drama section. Plus, I heard this new actor is snatching the wigs of everyone, I’m really curious”

“Sure, noted” I grinned at her, parting ways as I went to my office while she went to hers. Seems like another packed day before I can finally go home, watch a movie and go to the races again. After all, it is Thursday and I can’t miss my favourite, Snothun, person’s race...gotta annoy him a little bit before it.

Honestly, there was one thing as exciting as racing...getting ready for the races. The music was blasting in the whole house as I tried not to mess up my red lipstick, bobbing my head to the rhythm swiftly. It was always fun, I usually had to start getting ready with two hours before leaving because listening to music always slowed the process. I needed to make breaks so that I could have my own mini concert. If someone saw me, they’d be shocked pretty much. A twenty two years old acting like this? This wasn’t an adult’s behaviour, more like a high school teens, but really...I’m still young and having fun never really killed nobody.

Grinning at the dark shade of the lipstick, I pulled my long hair in a messy ponytail, brushing my bangs carefully, making sure they sat at their place. Since it was autumn and the weather was definitely not warm anymore, it was really smart if you dressed up warmly. Races or not, I couldn’t risk getting a cold, I still have a serious job I have to attend. So after pulling on my black pants, I tucked inside the low cut long sleeved shirt and headed for the front door after turning everything off in the house, probably making my neighbours thank god the music was finally gone. I took the elevator, and threw my phone inside my purse after messaging my best friend that I was about to leave. Going to my side of garage, since I had a personal part and no one could go there unless they knew the password or perhaps had my keys, I opened the door with a grin as the green and purple neon lights lit up the cars nicely. Tonight I was going with a more modest car since I wasn’t planning to race, and when I say modest….I don’t mean a car that falls apart at 100 km/h. Nope, it’s a modest car because it doesn’t have strident colours like I prefer them, it’s my side chick. A very deep red, almost black, Subaru BRZ. It’s nice and fast and I could still kick anyone’s ass if I wanted to. But like I said, tonight it’s an easy night, not planning to race my ass off. Passing my favourite baby, a cherry red McLaren 570 GT which tires are a neon green, I patted it with a smile. I treat my cars like my friends, because really...they are my life. Unlocking the Subaru, I hoped in taking in the fresh smell it always carried. I always placed different scented little bags inside my cars and the Subaru had the mint scented one. Placing my purse on the passenger seat, I roared the motor to life as the garage door lifted, making way for me to pull out. Pressing the radio to play, I drove out the garage, taking a left turn, heading for the centre of the city. The race took place at a more deserted place, just past the centre. We didn’t want cops coming after us like many times happened. Since the roads were mostly clear, with a grin I speed down the road, excitement filling my body. It’s always like this when I drive my cars, adrenaline and excitement. This is what I call life, people.

I drove carefully down the road, looking for a free place I could park the car. It really didn’t matter where, the whole place was buzzing with people and you’d be surprised to see how many people I know from here. I mean, I’ve been racing for almost four years now. I’m older than most people here in racing experience, even Oh Sehun himself. Even though he was one of the best drivers of his generation, he horribly failed when racing with me. Perhaps I hurt his ego too much then and he couldn’t live a day without really teasing me if he saw me. I understand the guy, I mean, I’m just here to annoy him when I could be sleeping pretty well and getting that well deserved rest I missed last night.

After a few people pointed towards an empty spot, I parked the car and thanked them after getting outside of the car. Taking my phone and placing it in my pocket, I threw the purse back inside, leaning against the bumper as I looked around for my best friend. Truth be told, it was hard finding someone in this big crowd, but somehow we always found each other. Barely two minutes passed when I spotted the soft pink, almost fuschia, hair of my friend and soon he came in view. He had a big grin on his face as he approached me, throwing his arms around me and hugging me.

“Leeteuk” I greeted him, squeezing back.

“Surprised to see you here” He grinned when he pulled away “Thursday’s are your days off”

“Not tonight” I chuckled, looking around “I’m here to see actually someone”

“Oh, here to see Snothun?” Leeteuk laughed, patting my shoulder realizing why I was actually here. And yes, he calls him Snothun as well, got used to it after hearing me calling him that for so long.

“Pretty much and I don’t know, I felt bored” I pursed my red lips, looking around for a familiar carrot coloured hair. But it was really nowhere and it was becoming confusing, he usually was here before me.

“Are you coming to Jongdae?” Leeteuk asked as he turned around, checking the crowd as well quickly.

“Yep” I locked my car and intertwined my fingers with Leeteuk as we took off in the crowd. I smiled at people who greeted me and congratulated me for last night’s victory. Yes, I was like a star here, everyone knew who I was and many challenged me being very disappointed when they lost. Not my fault that I have more experience, one day they can become even better, who knows. I spotted Jongin standing beside Kyungsoo, who was watching Yixing and his girlfriend with a scowl. From what I heard, she was a Goodie and always hang out with Baekhyun. I guess the guys didn’t take it lightly when she started dating someone from the opposite gang, let alone the leader himself. I was pretty close to Kyungsoo and his gang, he even asked if I wanted to join them. But Oh Snothun was there and honestly, even though he was annoyingly handsome and I found myself thinking about him, I really didn’t want to see him more than I already did, that being almost every day. Plus, I was a serious woman, I don’t have time for things like gangs.

“Dae” Leeteuk shouted over the loud voices, startling the blond guy.

“Oh—Y/N, Teuk!” He grinned at us, bumping his fist against ours “Nice seeing you here, Y/N, what are you doing here?”

“I was bored” I shrugged, winking at Jongdae when he chuckled.

“More like wanted to see Sehun” Leeteuk said with a shit eating grin and I elbowed him, making him whine loudly.

“Well, he’s somewhere here” Jongdae looked around, eyes narrowing “I’m sure you’ll see him soon or after the race”

“Speaking of the race, when is it starting?” I raised my eyebrows.

“Ten minutes” Jongdae checked his wrist watch.

“Who’s racing against Sehun?” I asked curiously.

“Yixing” Jongdae said with a snort, looking really amused at the situation.

“Is Yixing really ready to lose another race against Sehun?” I chuckled, Leeteuk following.

“Not really, but he’s too thick headed to realize” Jongdae laughed, raising his walkie talkie.

“Hyung” He spoke, raising on his tip toes to gaze at the crowd “Slowly clear the road”

“Noted” Minseok’s answer came and Jongdae smiled before walking away, leaving me with Leeteuk.

“I’ll go and find Heechul, see you at your car?” He rose an eyebrows as I nodded at him. Leeteuk walked away and I decided walking around wasn’t that bad. Popping a bubble gum in my mouth, I took off, pushing people from time to time from my way. I looked at the cars, narrowing my eyes at some that had a really bad colour combination. Honestly, it’s not enough to have a good car, the colours matter too, a lot. At least, that’s what I always thought. Got a good car but with an ugly colour? Off throwing, very much.

“Oh, Y/N!” A blond haired girl gripped my arms, making me smile.

“Wendy, haven’t seen you in a while!” I exclaimed, hugging her as she pulled me into her.

“Damn, I know” She chuckled, pulling away “But things got shitty, my parents pretty much found out that I’m doing bad stuff so I was banned from coming here”

“Oh, that’s shitty” I nodded with my lips pursed “See, that’s why it’s cool when you live alone”

“Haha, very funny” Wendy rolled her eyes, making me giggle “I still have on year of high school before I can finally move away”

“Well, good luck for it, and keep it on the low” I winked at her, making Wendy nod with a smirk.

“That’s my speciality”

“Does Baekhyun think the same?” I teased her, smirking when she punched my shoulder.

“How the hell did you find out?” Wendy groaned.

“Jongin runs his mouth when he’s drunk” I laughed at the glare the girl gave, I think Jongin is dead now.

“Amazing, so he’s been the shit that’s been telling everyone about my personal life”

“Well, is it his fault you tell him everything?” Wendy rolled her eyes, pushing past me softly.

“Who knew” She patted my shoulder “I’ll go and find Baek now, have a nice night!”

“You too!” I called after her, walking away and deciding to go back to my car. The race was starting very soon, it seems like I’ll see Sehun after it.

I bumped into someone who was pretty much pushing a girl on his car’s bumper, ready to jump her. Well, this was never a pleasant sight to see but oh well, some people have their urges. Rolling my eyes at them, I walked past, spotting Heechul’s car. Leeteuk was pretty much there and if not, it was not a crime to wait there for them. Walking to it, I crouched down to see inside the car but the windows were tinted and I groaned realizing even if they were inside they were up to no good. Rolling my eyes, I raised back to my initial position, back straight as I turned my head to the right. Well, maybe it was because of him or because of the sudden cold breeze that blew past me, but the breath caught in my throat as I took in Sehun’s approaching form. No wonder I didn’t find his carrot hair, it was raven now, styled differently as well. It looked like he had a small fringe that fell on his forehead in some places. He was standing tall as he graciously walked, no doubt, towards me with a visibly smirk on his face already. Sometimes I wonder how he doesn’t freeze in the clothes he wears. They look thin and he isn’t dressed very layered. Tonight was no different, he wore some dark blue jeans, hugging his legs perfectly. A dark green shirt with some leaves as decoration, hanging on his upper body, unbuttoned at the chest to show off his colourful tattoos. In secret, I was always fascinated by them and sometimes wondered if he got them to just have them or they actually meant something. He had a big pirate ship starting probably from his belly button, a mermaid sitting on top of it, clouds behind her. On the right side, if he moved in the right way, I could make out a rose and some palm trees, hanging close to the mermaid, almost protecting her. On the left side, I never could make out too well what he had there, was something that looked like a card and underneath he had an anchor, almost as if it was falling to destroy the pirate ship. And of course, he had a big leaf on his left side of his neck, pretty much completing the already beautiful tattoo. He wore a matching coloured jacket to his pants, which I’m pretty sure was thin as well.

“Look who we have here” Sehun’s smirk grew the moment he stopped in front of me, closer than any normal person would “I heard from a dear friend you were looking for me”

“Looking for you? Not really” I smirked back at him, observing that the freckles underneath his eyes were more visible tonight “I was more like...asking”

“Isn’t that the same thing, sweets?” Sehun chuckled, his smirk back once he was done.

“Not really” I shook my head, denying that I was looking for him “Actually, I just wanted to see your ass get beaten”

“Oh, excuse you” Sehun chuckled, eyes narrowing at me “But I do tend to think you gave up your free night to actually just simply see me—tell me, did you miss me that much, sweets?”

I chuckled loudly, licking my lower lip at his words, “Please, you are overdoing yourself tonight. I certainly didn’t miss you, why would I?”

“Because…” Sehun took a step closer, actually succeeding in making my heart beat faster “You can’t spend a day without seeing me, it’s already something we both know, Y/N. Besides, my ass is too good to be beaten”

“I’ve seen better” I shrugged, blowing a bubble in Sehun’s face, making his jaw tick. Oh, how he hated it when I acted like I was better.

“I would be careful out there with Yixing, I heard he got better” I teased further, patting Sehun’s chest, my fingers tingling at the contact with his skin, which was warm surprisingly.

“Never as good as me” Sehun smirked, gripping my wrist and yanking on my hand “You were the only one who beat me, what makes you think he got better?”

“And you are still butthurt, don’t worry...I can understand” I chuckled when he rolled his eyes, finger drawing circles into my skin, which was very distracting by the way.

“Just watch me win tonight, Y/N” Sehun leaned in, mouth touching my ear lightly “We might have some fun after it, what do you think?”

I placed a hand on his shoulder, raising on my toes to be able to speak back into his ear, like he did to me, “I don’t fuck around with boys who aren’t capable of beating me in a race, sorry”

“Ah, but that’s really your loss” Sehun sounded smug as his hand left my wrist and travelled downwards. And honestly, I did hear stories about him from girls that have slept with him and well...there was not a bad thing I ever heard, which was making me pretty curious...but not that curious to actually try it. I gasped quietly when Sehun squeezed my buttcheek, having the audacity to chuckle into my ear.

“Watch me win, baby” His lips lightly pressed against my earlobe and he was already pulling away, making me mentally curse myself at the sudden shock I got.

“Where’s the carrot hair?” I called after him as he started walking away.

“I heard you liked guys with black hair” I cursed loudly now since he couldn’t hear me, leaning against Heechul’s car and wishing to pull out every single strand of hair I had on my head. Okay, maybe coming here was a mistake tonight, Snothun is working real hard.

It was a Toge race tonight, meaning there was a lead driver and a chaser. Sehun was the chaser while Yixing was the lead one, the route they had was a half an hour one so I was sitting on Heechul’s car’s bumper, bored, staring at my nails when I heard voices coming close from me. I turned around, narrowing my eyes at the car as I decided maybe looking inside wasn’t a very bad idea. Walking to the driver’s seat, I opened the door abruptly, actually making someone shriek from inside. My eyes widened at the scene and I shrieked as well, wishing I never opened that damn door.

“The fuck—Heechul can you put it away!” I shouted, people around actually staring at us.

“Well close the damned door!” Heechul shouted as Leeteuk pushed my head out and slammed the door closed. I swear to god, Leeteuk will regret this later. Why the fuck did they have to have sex in a fucking car surrounded by so fucking many people? Oh my god, and I had been sitting on the car for almost twenty minutes now! Turning around with a glare, I waited for them to come out. Heechul was the one first out, glaring at me as he fixed the collar of his sweater, failing at hiding the hickeys.

“Y/N, never fucking do that” He glared at me, making me widen my eyes in offence.

“First of all, you don’t fucking have sex in a place like this!” I glared at both of them as Leeteuk got out too “And second, fucking lock the door next time!”

“Not my fault that you have an inexistent sex life” Heechul shrugged, making me want to slap him.

“I just saw your dick, dude...can you shut up?” I sighed, pinching my nose when Leeteuk started laughing.

“I mean, it wasn’t that bad” He shrugged, eyes shining with mischief “You can always join us”

“The fuck not happening” I glared at him, slapping his arm, making Heechul laugh as well.

“Glad to hear that, I wouldn’t want to see your vagina” He pursed his lips and I almost slapped him.

“You have no rights to say that, I just saw your dick, okay!” I exclaimed, people glancing at us again.

“Y/N, what the fuck was that with Sehun?” Leeteuk crossed his arms in front of his chest “We pretty much saw everything”

“Well, nothing happened so I don’t see why you are asking” I shrugged, making another bubble with my gum that I had been chewing for too long.

“That guy wants to clearly fuck you” Heechul said while nodding, narrowing his eyes at me “Or have you already done it?”

“Fuck no” I finally slapped him across the head, making him hiss “Why would I? It’s just fun to always tease him, plus...I hurt his ego by beating his ass in that race so now he made it his personal hobby to annoy and tease me, nothing funny if you ask me”

“Still, he wants to fuck you” Leeteuk said in a light tone, making me glare at him.

“You two are fucking too much, I’m going to Jongdae since the race is coming to an end” I huffed, turning around and knowing well Leeteuk and Heechul were both after me, following me to Jongdae.

It really wasn’t hard to find Jongdae because he was holding the white flag, arm raised high which meant Minseok just told him the guys are gonna be back in a few minutes. We stood to the side, making sure the cars didn’t run us over as Jongdae placed a protective arm in front of me.

“Gotta protect the ladies” He winked as he started moving the flag, signalling for the people to stand close to the cars, making more way for the racing cars which were now visible. It wasn’t hard to make out who was leading, it was Snothun, his red Acura NSX easy to make out. I smirked a little, knowing already that he would be the winner. Like I said, I only came to annoy him.

“And the winner is” Jongdae shouted into the megaphone, making me go almost deaf “Oh Sehun!” The crowd cheered as the cars came to a stop, of course, I’m pretty sure almost everyone from here placed their bets on Sehun. I would have too.

“Damn, all that money I lost” Heechul whined as the crowd moved towards the cars to congratulate the winner.

“You bet on Yixing?” Leeteuk stared at his boyfriend like he just grew another head.

“Seems like you are more stupid than you look like” I winked at Heechul with a smirk as I turned around, ignoring his comment, and walked towards Sehun’s car. I mean, it would be still nice to congratulate him. The doors were opened and there he was standing, with a smug smirk as Yixing scoffed while holding his girlfriend in his arms, who had an amused smile as she congratulated Sehun.

“He was my friend before you were my boyfriend, Yixing” The girl chuckled, pecking his lips as Yixing pulled her away with a smirk. Seems like he wasn’t that grumpy anymore.

“Well, do I get a kiss too?” Sehun smirked, catching me off guard as I was watching Yixing and the girl.

“Not from me, but there’s plenty of girls that would love to do it” I winked at him, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“Problem is, I don’t want it from them” Sehun was slightly panting as he ran a hand through his hair. I understand him, all the adrenaline leaves you feeling like you just ran a fucking marathon.

“That’s not my problem anymore” I grinned at him, uncrossing my arms and taking a step closer to him “I gotta be honest, you were pretty good”

“Oh, I know” Sehun smirked, pushing off his car as he stopped a few meters away from me “How about we get out of here?”

“Not tonight” I patted his chest with a grin, Sehun gulping as his eyes dropped. Oh, did he see just now how I was dressed?

“My eyes are up here” I patted his cheek right underneath his eyes, a big and cocky smirk extending on his lips.

“For a second I thought you dressed up for me like this”

“Don’t get that confident, Sehun” I chuckled, gazing up at him.

“Race with me” He suddenly blurted out, making my eyes widen.

“What?”

“You won’t be able to beat me this time, I promise you” His smirk grew more confident, becoming quite annoying. He wasn’t that good, why was he getting his hopes up?

“That’s really confident, Sehun—but tonight is my night off” I winked at him, turning to leave but he grabbed my forearm, turning me back.

“Saturday isn’t” He grinned, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“That’s true” I grinned back, deciding it was fine to accept the challenge. I could beat him again.

“But let’s make a bet” The grin was back as he leaned down, eyes gazing into mine “If I win, you go on a date with me on Sunday”

“And if I win?” I arched an eyebrow.

“Then I’ll leave you alone for good” Sehun shrugged, pulling away.

“You sure you can do that? It seems like you quite enjoy my company” I licked my lips as Sehun chuckled, glancing up at the dark sky.

“Now, you are the one being too confident, sweets” He looked back at me with a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“Goodnight, sweets” And he was inside his car, starting the engine as he slowly pulled away. I huffed, placing my hands on my hips, staring after his car.

“You two should fuck already” Heechul’s voice was close to my ear and I abruptly looked at him, seeing him munching some chips.

“What? The sexual tension is basically too much” He shrugged like it was nothing.

“Heechul” I started sweetly, making sure to grip his shoulder a little too tightly “If you weren’t Leeteuk’s boyfriend, you’d be fucking dead by now”

“Well, seems like I just became more glad that I’m Leeteuk’s boyfriend” He chuckled, puffing his cheeks as he showed the chips into my face. I rolled my eyes, pushing it away as I decided to call it a night and after saying goodbye to Leeteuk and Jongdae, I went to my car, already dreading to wake up in the morning. Great, another zombie day for me!

    Was I right to say another zombie day last night? Yes, I was very right. So, it’s no wonder I was standing in the girl’s washroom, trying to put on some make up since I woke up late and was still too sleepy to do something like that. I yawned as I paused applying the foundation for a second, staring at myself tiredly. Maybe it was time I actually stop racing so much and focus on the real world? It’s not like I’d stop, just lay lower? Hell, not happening! I shook my head at myself, grimacing when I realized I had to put on some eye shadow as well. God, I’m still not entirely up for this. But I work as a secretary, bitch please, my looks need to be pleasing. Snorting at my own thoughts, I decided to keep it low with the eye make up and rather focus on my eyeliner that came out better than I expected it. Once finishing with my eyes, I realized that I only had the lipstick from last night so I decided using it. Besides, it looked good with my outfit today. It’s amazing how I was able to dress myself up this well despite being half dead. The pencil skirt stopped a few inches above my knees, having a split at the back which made it incredibly sexy, I’m not calling myself sexy! The light blue three quarter sleeve shirt hugging nicely my figure, tucked inside the black skirt. I guess I was after all a little bit too asleep when dressing up because the stilettos I wore were actually red, so the lipstick was greatly welcomed right now. The door to the washroom opened as I was combing through my hair, trying to give a neat look to the slight waves my hair had.

“Finally, you stopped looking like a zombie” Jennie chuckled as she walked inside a stall, making me roll my eyes.

“Thank you, that’s so nice of you” I scoffed, realizing this was the best I could do with my hair as I brushed my bangs away, leaving my forehead on display.

“Well, I honestly don’t know why you look dead almost every morning” The toilet was flushed as Jennie kicked the door open, a smirk on her lips when I spotted her through the mirror “What are you doing every night?”

“Well, would you believe me if I told you I’m a bar dancer?” I rose my eyebrows, crossing my arms in front of me as Jennie walked beside me with a laugh, washing her hands in the sink.

“I definitely don’t, try something more believable”

“Well, I like cars, so I might be racing from time to time” I winked at Jennie when her usually cute eyes widened.

“Are you serious?” Her mouth dropped open when I nodded with a grin.

“Y/N, you take me with you next time!” She gripped my arm, her neon pink nails digging into my skin.

“Do I get something good out of that?” I rose an eyebrow, teasing her.

“Y/N” Jennie whined, a pout forming on her pink lips “I’m your friend and—there are so many hot boys!”

“How would you know that?” I laughed, shaking of her hands.

“I do watch movies, dummie” She flicked my forehead and I threw a glare at her.

“If you are free this Saturday you can come” I grinned at her as I started packing away my make up “I will race too”

“Definitely free, I’ll tell Donghae something came up and I can’t go to the cinema anymore” Jennie nodded excited as she helped me pack my things away.

“Still going out with Donghae?” I laughed as we headed for the door.

“I mean, he’s funny and hot—why not?” Jennie shrugged with a grin, walking me to my office since hers was down the hallway.

“True” I nodded, opening the door to my office.

“Actually, it’s good I caught you in the washroom” Jennie chimed up “The delivery company called and said that the delivery guy will come today, so expect him around lunch time”

“Oh, they said tomorrow” I furrowed my eyebrows softly, sitting back down in my chair.

“The guy was free so he said he’ll work, that’s what they told me” Jennie grinned at me, getting ready to close the door after her “Don’t forget the tickets!”

“I didn’t!” I called as she closed the door and I leaned back in my seat, closing my eyes for a little bit. If I sleep now, I will be more active later! It’s perfect, I smiled as I relaxed myself in the comfortable chair. The silence was heavenly right now and I’m sure I’d fall asleep in just a few minutes.

“Are you slacking off again?” A not so amused voice asked, making me groan.

“I’m never slacking off, Miss Boss” I opened my eyes, straightening in the chair “I just closed my eyes for a second”

“To slack off” Krystal arched an eyebrow as she walked inside further “Anyways, I’m here to get me an appointment with Song Minho”

“What purposes?” I raised my eyebrows, already searching for the phone number of his manager.

“He’s working on his new album and I want to be the first one to interview him, after all we are always the first ones in things like this. I want Jennie to come with me, her bright personality seems to catch the attention of idols more than mine” Krystal rambled on as I wrote down some notes as to what she wanted.

“You don’t need to compliment Jennie right in front of me” I muttered with a pout, punching in the numbers of the manager “I’m bright too”

“No, you are a rude and sarcastic ass and if I ever bring you to an interview I’m afraid they’d throw us out from there” Krystal shook her head as she sat on the sofa beside the window.

“They would not!” I exclaimed offended “I am nice and bright too!”

“No, you’re not” Krystal rolled her eyes, flicking her long nails “Now call the manager”

“Yes, Miss Boss” I muttered with a grimace, waiting as the phone rang. Not even seconds later, a masculine voice was speaking into the phone.

“Hello, Hwiyoung, Choi Y/N speaking from Cristal News. We heard how Minho is getting ready for his next album and Jung Krystal would like to get an exclusive interview with him before everyone else” I spoke politely, voice loud and clear.

“Oh, I see. Mr. Song’s schedule is very packed for this week, but next week on Wednesday he would be free the whole afternoon” The manager spoke back politely.

“You assure us that we’d be the first ones?” I smiled a little when Hwiyoung chuckled.

“You know how Minho likes your boss, he refused every interview so far knowing you’d call later or sooner”

“I’m starting to like this dude more” I grinned, marking next Wednesday as interview day for Krystal’s schedule.

“Have a nice day, Hwiyoung”

“You too, Y/N” He hang up and I grinned at Krystal.

“Next week, Wednesday, he’s free all afternoon”

“Oh, amazing” Krystal sprung up to her feet, already running to her office “Tell Siwon to get an appointment for that day and to come later and help me with the questions”

“Noted” I nodded at her, preparing to send a message to Siwon.

“Also, can you please look into some financial things? Someday News sued us again and I’m seriously not in the mood to go to court to come out as winners...again” Krystal rolled her eyes as she tapped her fingers against my door.

“Sure, for this month just?” I raised my eyebrows.

“Yes, no need for other months” Krystal nodded and I bowed a little at her as she left. Someday News was a pain in the ass, this is the third time they sue us, claiming we stole some articles from them but seriously...they are doing this for attention and because lately Krystal had been going hard against them, assholes deserve the pain in the ass they get. Sipping my coffee, I groaned a little realizing I would be checking numbers and writing down dates for most of the day today...a thing I hate.

Two hours passed and I was barely at the middle of the month, checking the sales and percentages of us going higher up in the scale of news. We were doing pretty well and I felt proud as I threw myself back in my chair, knocking off my notebook and pen. Rolling my eyes, I bent down to take back my notebook but I kicked the pen away with my hand, going underneath the desk.

“Fuck it” I groaned, raising up from the chair to crouch down and peek underneath the table. Realizing it was easier if I went around and took it from the front, I went on my knees and huffing shimmied there. Bending down, I widened my eyes to see better underneath the desk, extending my arm to reach for the pen. I yelped as I touched it with my fingertips, failing to hear the door opening behind me. Yes, my ass was up in the air and whoever entered, and if it was a male, clearly enjoyed the view. But I was unaware of him as I pursed my lips, leaning lower to finally be able and grasp the pen.

“Yes!” I hissed when I finally placed my hand on it and pulled it up, huffing the hair off my face that ungracefully fell on it with my sudden movement.

“Well, that was quite the sight” I shrieked, jumping to my feet and almost falling as I basically twisted my ankle, making me curse loudly.

“The hell—” My mouth went slack, all words flying out the window when Oh Sehun was standing in front of me, mirroring my expression. The fuck was this!

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“What just fucking happened?” We exclaimed at the same time and I shut my mouth, narrowing my eyes at his outfit. He was wearing some sort of uniform, actually dressed normally for the first time I have known him. His hair was pushed back as a snapback was sitting on top of it. Sehun shamelessly checked me out, eyes ranking my whole body and I realized the outfit I was wearing, this would be the first time he saw me dressed so officially.

“Well, what are you doing here?” I crossed my arms in front of me as I narrowed my eyes at him.

“I had to deliver some package for some Krystal Jung. They told me to come here at the front desk” He shrugged, shaking a package in his hands.

“Don’t shake that!” I exclaimed, walking close to take it away “There are laptops inside, okay!”

“I know” Sehun shrugged as he let me snatch the package away from his reach. I huffed as I walked to my desk, placing it down and going to take a cutter knife.

“I guess you work here” Sehun voiced from behind me, as I opened the box, taking the laptops out to check if everything was okay with them.

“I do” I muttered, confirming the laptops were good “Everything’s fine here, I’ll pay cash now”

“No need to rush” Sehun spoke from behind me and I turned around, my eyes narrowed.

“Really? Delivery guys...I heard they are usually busy” I clicked my tongue as he smirked, licking his lower lip.

“I’m not busy at all, this is just cash in plus, it was my free day today but boss called me in saying, I quote…’A very pissy lady called, I think she needs a good fuck really, and I think it’s best we deliver the package today so...Sehun, can you come in for that and you are free after that’” Sehun smirked as I huffed, crossing my arms in front of my chest.

“Your boss is an ass like you are” I grinned at him, making Sehun laugh.

“But Miss Choi” He bit his lower lip, leaning down “I must say...this attire is damn fire on you, really inspiring”

“Inspiring?” I rolled my eyes “You couldn’t find a better adjective?”

“Would you like...fuckable?” He raised his eyebrows amused when I pushed his chest.

“Get out” I muttered, turning around to get the money I had to pay “Who knew the Oh mighty Sehun was actually just a delivery guy?”

“I’m actually hurt now” Sehun scoffed, stepping aside when I turned around with a grin.

“Here’s the money” He handed me a board I signed, grinning at him.

“You won’t die, I’m sure...me kicking your ass was a harder blow” I smirked when Sehun rolled his eyes, taking the money a little more forcefully from my hands.

“Sweets, you’ll be the butthurt one tomorrow” He winked at me, taking his board back.

“I highly doubt that” I chuckled, watching as Sehun walked to the door that was opened.

“I must admit it, I just got the shock of my life today...but never will I lie that I didn’t enjoy what I saw” He smirked smugly as I glared at him.

“Amazing, good to know, thanks Sehun” I rolled my eyes, raising my pen to throw it at him “Now get out!”

“See you tomorrow, sexy ass” Sehun sprinted out when I made a frustrated sound, actually throwing the pen after him. I went to retrieve it, hearing his laugh following him down the hallway. That bastard, I can’t wait to freaking kick his ass tomorrow.

    “Uh, so—are there gonna be super cool cars like—like in Fast and Furious? Or—oh, I always loved playing Need For Speed—I can’t believe I’m sitting in a—what’s the name of this car?” Jennie’s eyes were wide as she was watching my profile, not even bothered that I was speeding down the road.

“It’s a McLaren 570 GT, Jennie” I sighed quietly, glancing at her to see her nodding with big eyes.

“Right, I’ve never sat inside a sports car before—whoa this is really fast!” She exclaimed once she realized we were way above the legal speed.

“That’s right, but if you’d be quiet for just a little moment—” I smiled at Jennie as I stopped at a red light, making her grin at me.

“Thanks for taking me, you are the best!” She bit her lip excitedly, making me smile at her.

“We are not even there yet” I chuckled, speeding down again since the light turned green.

“But we’ll be soon, right?” Jennie looked out the window as I slowed down, taking a left turn.

“Actually—we are already here” I smirked when I saw her eyes widening from the corner of my eyes. She pressed her nose against the window as she gazed out, mouth opened.

“This is so cool!” She exclaimed, bouncing in the seat. I started laughing, looking around for a free spot.

“Oh, oh!” Jennie exclaimed, pointing to her right “There’s a free place! You can park there!”

“Amazing” I grinned at her, happy that I brought her with myself “Thanks”

“Sure” Jennie nodded quickly, already fumbling to undo her seatbelt. Seatbelts are essential, and my rule is that the car won’t start until everyone has the seatbelt fastened, I’m not playing with anyone’s life.

I parked the car carefully, avoiding to run over someone in this packed place. Turning the engine off, Jennie clapped quietly and I chuckled at her. She opened the door with a quiet yelp, the doors open upwards not like usual car doors.

“God, this car is so cool!” Jennie squealed as she got out, making me shake my head at her. Getting out too, I left the door open since I’d be soon racing. Walking to the bumper, Jennie was looking around like a lost puppy, lips opened.

“You look funny” I chuckled, patting her shoulder “Close your mouth”

“This place is awesome!” She muttered, turning towards the car on our right that was blasting some music. Following Jennie’s gaze, my eyes narrowed when I realized it was Sehun’s lime coloured car. Wow, how much luck did we have to actually park beside him. He was sitting on his bumper as two girls were on both sides of him, giggling at whatever he was saying and one even dared to kiss his cheek. I scoffed, the action getting Jennie’s attention.

“That guy is so hot” Jennie grinned, gripping my arm and starting to pull me.

“What are you doing?”

“He’s been looking at us, probably knows you” Jennie glanced back at me “Am I right”

“Unfortunately, yes” I grimaced as Jennie stopped us right in front of him. Sehun’s hair was parted in the middle, the left side falling in a sophisticated manner on his forehead. His now black loose shirt with white feathers as design, was once again unbuttoned until his chest, showing off his tattoos a silver chain around his necklace. He was wearing light blue jeans, ripped at the knees, one thigh occupied by one of the girls.

“You are finally here” Sehun smirked, looking me up and down. I grinned at him fakely, eyeing the two girls as they glared at me.

“And I see you were having fun already without me here” I faked a grin at him, crossing my arms in front of me. Tonight I wore red skinny jeans, a see through sweater tucked inside carefully, my red bra matching my jeans. I wore simple converses since I’m racing, I like to feel everything with my feet and make sure I’m stable all the time. Heels are really bad if you are actually looking for a stable feeling.

“Sweets, I’m always having fun” Sehun laughed, patting the girl’s ass that didn’t stop glaring at me.

“Oh, how amazing” I muttered, gripping Jennie’s arm “This is my friend, Jennie”

“Hi!” She waved at Sehun cutely, not really paying attention to him.

“Brought another hottie just for me?” Sehun raised his eyebrows, succeeding in bringing a glare out of me.

“Aren’t we enough for you?” The girl sitting on his thigh whined, making me scoff.

“Sweetie, are you new around here?” I smirked at her, raising my eyebrows.

“No” She glared at me, turning more into Sehun.

“Then I’m sure you know Sehun can never get enough of ladies—meaning you aren’t good enough for him either” My smirk widened when the girl huffed and turned towards Sehun.

“Is that true, Sehun?” She asked loudly but Sehun only shrugged, a bored expression on his face.

“Dickhead” She muttered, pushing herself off him and storming off. I snorted, watching her leave, turning towards the other girl.

“And you? Why are you still here? Wasn’t I clear enough?” I raised my eyebrows at her, as she smirked, turning towards Sehun. He raised his eyebrows at the girl as she pushed her lips on his, kissing him deeply. I rolled my eyes and watched Jennie as she grimaced at the girl.

“See you around” The girl walked away from Sehun, bumping into my shoulder and making me roll my eyes.

“Bitch” She muttered with a smirk, making me huff with an irritated smile. Sehun had an amused smirk on his face as he wiped his lips, pushing off his bumper.

“Y/N, sweets” He stopped in front of me, brushing the hair away from my shoulder “I never thought you were possible of being jealous”

“Why would I be jealous?” I scoffed, looking into his eyes “They were distracting us from why we are actually here”

“Sure, you are right” Sehun chuckled, placing a hand on my lower back.

“Just so you know...You are sexy like that, really gets me going. But this lips are all yours, sweets” He muttered into my ear, pushing past me, brushing his hand on my lower back all down to my ass. I bit my lower lip, waiting for him to be gone.

“What was that? Holy shit, that guy is really hot...Y/N, are you okay?” Jennie gripped my arm when I didn’t answer, trying to get back my even breathing. Why keep lying? Maybe I actually really like Sehun, wow, big shocker! Stupid Y/N, that shit got under your skin without you realizing.

“I am fine” I grinned at Jennie turning towards her “You think Sehun is hot?”

“But I guess he’s off limits” She giggled as I nudged her shoulder “I mean, he was just messing with you. Definitely got a thing for you”

“Thanks, but I don’t need to hear things like that before my race” I grimaced, running a hand through my hair, trying to calm my nerves. I was never nervous, but something about tonight was making me like this.

“Well, since this Sehun is off limits, do you know anyone else who is not? Cause I definitely want to meet some guys tonight—” Jennie smirked, probably already seeing someone she likes “That guy is fire!”

I followed her finger, bursting out laughing loudly as Jennie stared at me confused.

“That’s my best friend and he’s gay, Jennie. Sorry but I don’t think he’s for you” I patted her shoulder when the pouted, Leeteuk coming to a stop in front of us.

“Y/N!” He grinned, hugging me quickly before looking at Jennie “Hello pretty lady, I’m Leeteuk, Y/N’s best friend”

“Oh, yeah...I’m Jennie, Y/N’s other best friend” Jennie grinned at Leeteuk who narrowed his eyes at her.

“Really? I have known her for longer” He said, gripping my arm.

“Okay, this is not kindergarten for you to argue who is my best friend and who is not” I huffed, taking Leeteuk’s arm off me “We are all best friends, yeah? Plus, where’s Heechul, don’t you want to annoy him instead of us?”

“Yah, stop sending me always to my boyfriend!” Leeteuk hissed, turning around and walking away.

“He’s—nice” Jennie muttered as I took her arm and followed after Leeteuk who was probably taking us to the others.

“A sweetheart, but I guess he’s in a bad mood now” I shrugged, informing Jennie. Indeed, Leeteuk took us to the others and they were more than happy to meet Jennie, who was even happier. She wouldn’t stop speaking and it seemed like Jongin really likes her as he didn’t leave her side after we arrived there. Which is amazing since Jongin is actually pretty famous with the ladies, who knows…

“Racing tonight?” Kyungsoo raised his eyebrows at me.

“Yep” I smiled at him as he nodded with a grin.

“Sehun, right?”

“Yep”

“Well, I’m secretly rooting for you, kick his ass more” Kyungsoo patted my arm, making me laugh.

“That’s what will happen” I winked at him, Jongdae walking up to us.

“Y/N, nice seeing you—you should bring your car to the race line, Sehun is already there” Jongdae smiled, patting my shoulder. I nodded at him, turning towards Jennie.

“I have to go now, you stay with Jongin, okay?” She smiled and Jongin nodded at me, assuring me he’d take care of her. Pushing through the crowd, I found Leeteuk and Heechul at my car, making out.

“Fuck off, now!” I glared at them, hitting their heads.

“I hate you” Heechul glared at me and I arched an eyebrow at him.

“Seriously? And I hate it that you are making out on my car, don’t you have one?”

“I hope Sehun kicks your ass tonight” Heechul stuck his tongue out, making me jump at him but Leeteuk gripped my arms, pulling me into a hug.

“Don’t mind him, good luck” He winked at me as he let go of me, pushing me carefully inside my car. I huffed as I closed my door and watched as Heechul closed the other, winking at me. I started the car, churned the engine a little bit to get the attention of people so they’d clear the road. Pulling up to the start line, I took my place at the front since this was a Toge race again and Sehun wanted to be the chase driver again. Last time I was the chase driver and still won, this time won’t be different except that I’m the lead driver.

The engines were loud as Sehun was trying to show off behind me, but I focused more on myself not really paying attention to him. I can do this again, it will be funny. Looking at Jongdae, I pressed the gas pedal without actually leaving, biting my lower lip in anticipation. The white flag was raised and the second it came down I stepped on the gas, the car jolting forward with a sudden speed. I smiled as I relished in the feeling of driving down the streets without a care and with the desire of winning. My skin felt warmer and my heart was already beating faster even though we barely started. I glanced in the rearview mirror to see Sehun’s Infiniti G37 Vaydor hot on my trails, making me press the gas pedal harder even though I couldn’t press it any further. The street was thankfully deserted, the lamps creating enough light for us to see if there were by-passers but to our luck so far no one was here. The road was wide and glancing in the rearview mirror I saw Sehun trying to drive out from behind me, with a smirk I pulled on the wheel, pulling in front of him, blocking his way. I know doing these things are annoying and get dangerous if you aren’t careful but I’m pretty sure Sehun isn’t planning to die tonight, because I definitely am not. Shifting gears I took a harsh right turn, the back of the car drifting harder. Grinning widely I shifted the gear again, speeding up faster than before, the engine already warm. A light caught my attention on my left and as I glanced there, Sehun’s car was beside mine and he waved as he speed up more. Clicking my tongue, I shifted gears, pressing the gas down harder, getting my initial leading position back. There was another right turn getting closer and closer, the last turn before we’d get back to the racers and one of us would be the winner. Smirking devilishly, I yanked on the wheel, obliging Sehun to actually slow down in order not to crash in me. Laughing loudly, I hit the wheel as I took the turn flawlessly, glancing in the rearview mirror to see Sehun actually behind a few good meters. Grinning to myself, I pressed on the gas, speeding down the street, coming to where the others were. The road was cleared as people were cheering loudly and I smirked I saw Jongdae waving the white flag high in the air. It’s a pity really, I think I got too used to Sehun’s presence and now that the bet said he will leave me alone…pity, really. I was almost there, just a little bit and I am the winner. But when I glanced back in the rearview mirror Sehun wasn’t behind me and when I looked beside me, he was there with a smirk.

“No!” I exclaimed when his bumper was visibly forward than mine, that making him instantly the winner. I pressed on the break harshly, eyebrows furrowing as my breathing was hard. It was quiet inside the car as everyone ran around us, patting our hot bumpers. I hit the wheel hard once, resting my head against the seat as I counted until ten. No way in hell Oh Snothun beat me, this isn’t happening. I was first all the time! And now I have to go on a date with him? Taking the seatbelt off, I opened the door forcefully, climbing outside. People were actually congratulating me, saying how good I was and how close. I scoffed at them and brushed off their hands, my blood boiling when Sehun walked towards me with a shit eating grin.

“Oh, look who lost” He bit his lower lip to stop a chuckle from escaping.

“What’s with that face, sweets? It hurts, right?” He finally chuckled, stopping in front of me. The crowd around us was watching closely, clearly entertained.

“I bet this hurts more” I hissed at him, my fist connecting with his jaw. The whole crowd gasped and suddenly they started cheering like I did the most moral thing when I really didn’t. Violence wasn’t anything accepted right here so it wasn’t okay that I did it, but I felt always frustrated around him and now him winning really annoyed me a lot.

“Oh, damn” Sehun chuckled, licking his lower lip that had a little blood now “I didn’t know I could work you up this good”

“This is half of what I can do” I hissed at him, gripping the collar of his shirt tightly and yanking him into me. Even though he was taller, and his amusement was only pegging me more, I’m pretty sure I look scary to the others right now.

“Did you cheat?” I hissed at him, searching his eyes as Sehun chuckled.

“I don’t cheat, sweets” Sehun smirked, placing his hands on my hips “But I do have a few tricks I could show you—In more fields actually” The crowd went wild at his words as if they were having the time of their lives, not helping my anger at all.

“Asshole, I put up with you for so long...you really think I don’t know you? Nitro is forbidden at this part of city, and you used it...at every race, didn’t you?” I glared at Sehun, feeling his hands tighten around me, jaw set tight.

“I don’t need to use Nitro in order to beat others asses, like yours, Y/N. I worked hard for where I am today, so if you don’t mind—shut that mouth of yours” Sehun hissed back, all traces of amusement or smugness gone as he glared back, his grip hurting me.

“Fuck you, Sehun” I snapped at him as suddenly firm hands were around me and were pulling me back. I didn’t actually try to fight back but my grip was hard on his collar and it was harder to pull me away. And it seemed like Sehun wasn’t planning on letting go either. Suddenly, Jongin was behind Sehun and he was pulling him away as well and finally they somehow pulled us away, our glares still remaining.

“Fuck me or not, you still have to go on that date with me tomorrow” Sehun glared at me, brushing Jongin’s arms off him.

“Fuck you, Sehun” I glared at him, hissing at Leeteuk when he pushed me inside my car.

“Amazing, see you at six o’clock” Sehun called as Jongdae and Minseok pulled him away, Jongin trailing after them.

“Go home, now” Leeteuk said in a stern voice, halfway closing my door “I’ll take care of Jennie, don’t worry”

I didn’t need to be told twice, once the door was closed, I started the engine and speed off as the road was now emptier since people were slowly going home. What an amazing night, fuck Snothun.

    Thankfully my anger went away with the sleep I got and right now everything that was left was a bitter feeling. I still somehow can’t believe Sehun beat me and at the same time I can’t believe I jumped at him in that way. It was very rude and uncalled for, but he really did annoy me a lot. Maybe I was too tired and that helped me snap as well. That didn’t mean I was in the mood to go on a date with Sehun, who wants to sit throughout a few hours with an annoying, smug jerk? Because I sure as hell don’t want that, but I did agree to the bet so I have no choice but to go. I dressed simple, not actually making an effort to look pretty or something. Sehun did force this date on me, but then I went into the bet without thinking about it too much. Locking the door of my apartment, I walked to the little pub two streets down where Sehun texted me we would meet. Putting on a fake smile when I spotted him, I walked towards him. His back was to me but he turned as if sensing when I was barely a few meters away from him.

“Oh, glad you came” He smirked, taking in my outfit. I wanted to grimace that we accidentally dressed matching. I was wearing white pants and him too, my shirt a dark brown that has floral design and Sehun in a turtleneck light brown sweater, the first time I see him dressed normally.

“Yeah, it would have been too rude not to come” I rolled my eyes “I did agree, didn’t I?”

“And I’m so glad you did” Sehun grinned, walking inside the pub as I followed him.

“Yeah, well I’m not” I muttered as we sat down at a table, Sehun sitting across me.

“Did you cool off?” He asked amused, watching me huff.

“I did and—I’m sorry for actually doing that” I said with a sigh, resting my arms on the table “It was very rude”

“It was but thinking back to it now, it is quite amusing” Sehun chuckled, opening the menu “I didn’t think you had so much power in you”

“Well, I might say one of my boyfriends in high school was in a gang” I muttered with a grin, making Sehun glance at me.

“So you’ve been around dangerous things all the time?”

“They weren’t dangerous and I just wanted to have fun” I shrugged, making Sehun smile actually.

“I always found it interesting that a girl actually drives a car and actually races” Sehun placed down the menu after we made our orders.

“My dad is a car mechanic, I grew up around cars and they became my passion at a young age” I said with a small smile “You know how girls like playing with dolls and do make up and steal their mother’s clothes? I did those when I got into high school, before—all I saw were cars”

“That actually explains lots of things” Sehun smirked, watching me intently.

“What? That I am rude and have no filter? Sometimes, it’s you who make me be like that with all your teasing” I glared at him playfully, making Sehun laugh.

“Because teasing you is funny, and don’t tell me you don’t like it?” Sehun narrowed his eyes at me as I rolled my eyes.

“Okay, your teasing is sometimes funny, but not all the time. There are times when I’m not in the mood”

“Please, you were the one who came this Thursday” Sehun smirked when I opened my mouth but didn’t say anything.

“Fine, that’s true. Because I was actually bored, that’s why I went—and besides, I knew you’d win” I smiled a little when surprise crossed Sehun’s face.

“Really? You, Y/N, actually said that?”

“Of course, Sehun...you are a great driver” I smiled at his expression, which was surprised and somewhat warm.

“Thanks, that’s...I mean, not many said that before” He muttered quietly.

“Didn’t you think of taking it further, not stopping at illegal races? You could become an actual racer, you have potential” I smiled at him, Sehun’s eyes snapping up at me.

“Not really, I don’t have the enough money yet” Sehun shrugged, playing around with his fingers.

“I could help” Both stared at the other, surprised. Why did I say that? Sehun seemed like he didn’t understand that either.

“No, don’t worry...it’s okay, Y/N” Sehun smiled for the first time genuinely.

“Sehun—” I narrowed my eyes at him as he raised his eyebrows “Why are you in a gang?”

“Oh, that” He shrugged, glancing away for a little moment “I had problems when I was little, my parents divorced and my mom was pretty destroyed so I turned on the wrong way. I guess I was in that phase when I thought joining a gang was cool...but actually it turned out to be my family. I feel safe with them and loved, something I didn’t get from my real family in long”

“Oh, I’m sorry about that. My childhood, well...I was a bad kid and even though my parents tried keeping me on the right way, I just couldn’t remain good. I did many bad things and hurt lots of people which I regret doing now, but we can’t go back in the past” I smiled, finding Sehun nodding at my words.

“We need to focus on our future” Sehun smiled as I nodded, finding myself actually enjoying his presence.

Being around Sehun was actually much better than I thought. He was funny and sometimes even got shy and it was as if he wasn’t even that boy anymore from the races. He was still teasing and smug at some times, but he was much more nicer and more...normal. After having dinner we decided to go for a walk and just chat more. I bit my lip when Sehun sneaked his fingers between mine, intertwining our fingers. I would have lied if I said I didn’t actually like his warm palm against mine, it felt like it was perfectly made for mine.

“What did you do with Snothun?” I asked with a laugh, turning my head towards Sehun.

“Snothun?” He started laughing loudly, joining me.

“Yes, that’s how I always call you because you are a pain in the ass” I narrowed my eyes at him, making him chuckle as he squeezed my hand.

“Call me baby from now on—or maybe daddy?” Sehun smirked when my cheeks suddenly heat up, it was the first time I blushed.

“Forget about that, asshole” I slapped his arm, glaring at him a little bit “I will never call you daddy”

“What a pity, it always gets me going” Sehun started again, laughing when I glared at him hard.

“You are not my boyfriend, Sehun” But that quickly shut him up as he stopped walking, turning towards me.

“Why not?” He pouted, making me roll my eyes at him.

“Because we went on a date because of a bet, nothing else”

“And if I want us to be more?” Sehun muttered, eyes dropping to my lips. I gulped suddenly feeling warm all over.

“You’ll have to stop being an asshole” I muttered, my eyes dropping to his perfect lips. Sehun chuckled slowly licking his lips as he leaned closer.

“I’ll work on that, yeah?” But I didn’t get to answer him as his lips were pressing against mine. He gripped my hips pulling me into him, my arms going around his neck. His lips were warm and soft against mine and I felt myself getting lost in our world as we kissed. He ran a finger through my hair, sucking on my lower lip as I pulled away with a smile.

“I know you’ll keep being a shit, but I can’t stay away anymore” Sehun giggled as he pecked my lips, pulling me after him.

Well, no one got hurt from having an annoying or teasing boyfriend.

[thesoundofaghost-mp3]

Sal Mustela fanfiction.

So, I've noticed there are no fanfictions about Sal Mustela from Need For Speed Carbon and decided to write one of my own because he's my favorite and I've got a small (huge) crush on him.

Enjoy!

TW: mentions of abuse, reckless driving, car race.

Sal and I have always been a good team. Winning almost every race we take part in, leaving everyone wondering how we do it. We've lost a few races, a few times because of the other contestants cheating, but this is how it is, there's no way of playing fair in illegal car races. There's also no way of proving it when it's not a huge race. Other times, we weren't on the same race.

It's only been 9 months since I took him in. Compared to Neville, who's a childhood friend, and Nikki that I've known for 5 years, he's quite new to the team and we know a lot, but surely not everything about him. I know more, as he and I are the ones who stay at the safe house the most. Now I almost only do races with him.

When I say I took him in, it's because I quite literally let him live in our safe house. I didn't know him until Nikki introduced him to me, and Neville's been trying to hide his jealousy because I don't run with him anymore, by being overly nice. Sal's told me a few times he felt he was being fishy.

I don't think I'll let Neville know I initially gave Sal a chance simply because I thought he looked cute, and he's around the same age.

You see, there's plenty of young people running races, but they're all way below us on race wins and popularity. Sal's the only one on our level. Lots of posers, like he said when my team and I came back, and it proved to be true. He's 19 and I'm 20, Nikki's 22. Neville's 27 but we get along because he has the mentality of a 15 year old.

The fact most guys only respect us when they realize we're racing too only makes it harder to find someone who isn't an asshole around women. That includes young guys, ofcourse. Sal and Neville are part of the few who don't see us as pieces of meat, although there's often random flirting between all of us, even me and Nikki. There isn't necessarily anything more to it than it being harmless fun. Sal doesn't flirt much with anyone except me though, but I think it's more because he's only more himself around me, although he's shown he can get quite mad at Neville if he starts annoying him.

He's usually nice and chill, and he's pretty funny when he's in a good mood. He's got lots of reasons to be in a bad mood usually though.

The reason he's moved in the safe house and occasionally stays over at my house if I go back there, is because he got kicked out of his parents' house at 16. So he stole his dad's car to race with and drove as far as he could, and heard about this place, and now he's been racing for 3 years around here. He's straightedge and doesn't take or drink anything, and so am I. If he wasn't, chances are he wouldn't have survived this far, judging by the other young racers around here.

Thing is, he left a sister there to be on her own with his parents. She's 2 years younger, and asked to leave with him but knowing the dangers of racing and being homeless, he decided not to take her and he's been feeling guilty about it since then. He doesn't ever tell anyone, but I've heard him cry himself to sleep a few times.

I heard him do it again yesterday night when everyone else left the safe house. I waited until I couldn't hear him anymore, meaning he was asleep, and got into his room and left him my second keys with a note telling him to come over to my house if he ever needed company.

"Hey, hello you there?" Neville was standing in front of me, waving his hand in front of my face and I looked up at him.

"You seemed lost in thoughts" he continued his phrase now that I was bakc to reality.

"I was -

"Why won't you leave her alone, Neville, give her a break, she doesn't need to always be alert if we're not racing" Sal had come in the room, and stood at the door.

He shifts on his feet and smiles slightly at me. The keys are hanging at his belt, meaning he read my note. He comes and plops down on the couch next to me, while Neville goes back to his car, tinkering as usual.

Nikki isn't here yet, but she'll be coming soon.

Sal turns to look at me and whispers a small thank you and gives me his dorky smile. My views on him have't changed at all. He's still as cute as he was 9 months ago, maybe even more now he's more comfortable around us, and me peculiarly. He shows us his goofy side as well even if he's still shy. I guess that's just him, he's shy and he'll never stop being shy most of the time. I can't complain though, as he really is one of the kindest people I know, and his shyness makes him adorable.

"By the way — he lowers down his voice when he realizes he's a little loud — could I ask you a favor? I know you're the boss -

I cut him off at the mention of boss, "Team-mate. I hate being called a boss, I'm just racing with you."

"But you pay me. And Nikki, and Neville."

"I'm aware. And I know you'd do it for free too but I refuse to let you race without having anything to win from it. Please, just call me by my name or anything but not boss okay?"

He chuckles and looks down at the space between us on the couch. "Alright, sweetheart, — he stops for a second, looks at me and realizes I'd lift my eyebrows, and starts laughing along with me, shyly hiding his - now red - face in his hands.

"I don't know why I said that — he chuckles, avoiding my gaze — but that was not what I wanted to ask you about, Lei." He pauses, as if he's struggling to look for words.

"I, uh I know you've already got a race today, with Neville, but there's this race in which — a loud thud and the noise of some tools sound from the corner in which Neville was tinkering.

"I'm fine! All fine, don't worry, it ain't nothing!" Neville shouts from behind his car.

"Let's head outside, shall we?"

Sal smirks and nods as we stand up.

As we both stand against the wall outside the abandoned hangar beside an abandoned house we personally made our safe place, or safe house, as most people would call it, Sal stays silent for a few minutes.

He seems to be thinking about something, and by the look on his face, I can tell he's thinking about his sister.

"Is it about her? What did you want to ask me? What has the race to do with her?"

He looked up into the distance.

Despite the seriousness of the situation, I can't help but think he's hot as he concentrates. I've seen this look before, at the start of a race before he starts driving. His eyes look dark and beautiful. I don't think he can really see anything around him, it's as if he's looking into the void and nothing surrounding him is visible to him.

"I found her myspace page. She wants to go to Duke uni in Durham, in North Carolina, I think. She's posted about it, and her phone number is aslo on her profile."

He turns to look at me, with glowing eyes.

"Listen if we win this race, you can keep 25000 dollars and I'll have 25000 too... I'll give it all to her. I'll contact her and tell her I can't come back but I can visit, and I'll give her all the money. I've saved up  from my pay for the extra gas, and you don't have to come if you don't want to, I'll be back as soon as I can."

He looks at the ground and shakes his head.

"If I do this, it might be my only way to make her ever forgive me for abandoning her with those assholes that are my parents. There's a lot you don't know about my family. We weren't just rebellious teenagers hating their parents or their poor family. We were -

He sighs and I put my hand on his shoulder as I feel myself tearing up slightly and fight to not let the tears stream down my face.

We were abused, you know? My dad... he..." He takes a long breath again. This time his voice cracks as he tries to say what his dad used to do to them.

"You don't have to tell me. I understand. That's where you got the scars on your back from... Right?"

He looks at me and nods. He hesitates for a minute but finally goes into a hug. We stand for a few minutes before Neville comes outside and opens his mouth before closing it again, realising he just stepped in on a private moment. We break away from each other and turn to look at him.

"Uhhh.. I was just uh.. gonna tell you I finished fixing my car, and I'm ready for the race for this afternoon."

"Alright, Neville, that's great."

Neville smiles sympathetically, nods and heads back inside.

Sal and I turn back to each other.

He tries to say something but nothing comes out and he just looks at the ground again.

"We'll win that race. If you don't, I'll win it for you and your sister. When is the race?"

He looks up at me and smiles brightly, hugging me again, although this time he backs off quickly again.

"Thank you so much, thank you so, so, much! The race is this evening at 10pm."

He proceeds to tell me the location and how many drivers there'll be, excited as a puppy seeing his owner again after a day of work.

He's adorable. I hacen't seen him like this in a while, but last time, he was in his car and I couldn't see him, only hear him shouting in my car when he managed to win a very difficult race with me. He doesn't know it, but his driving skills might even be better than mine. He's confident, but when he's down he tends to think he isn't that great of a racer even if he knows shortcuts all around and is one of the fastest drivers in the area.

"Hi guys, Neville's inside, yeah?" Nikki just arrived at the safe place.

Sal immediately started blushing and shut up, slightly embarrassed by his over-excitment.

"Yep. And so are we, now."

Nikki gives us a questioning look but heads inside with us.

Preparing ourselves for what races we've got, Nikki asked us if we had any races this evening.

"No"

"Yes"

Nikki looked back and forth between me and Neville who had given different answers, smiling like she'd caught me doing something secretely.

Which wasn't completely false, actually.

I glanced at Sal who was already looking at me, slightly amused by the situation.

"Don't you laugh you dork!" I playfully tossed a piece of cloth I used to clean my car with before.

He giggles while looking at me and my heart skips a beat.

"What is happening between you two?" Nikki looked at us, still smiling with a confused look in her eyes.

"We're doing a race this evening." I said, knowing Sal wouldn't really want to explain anything.

"Well that's not new, why was this a secret? Am I missing something?" Neville stepped in.

"I... Didn't choose this one, we're doing it for him."

"Can't we help? Or something?" Nikki asked, intrigued as to why they weren't invited or even talked to about this.

Sam had shyly stepped closer.

"I'd.. Rather only have Lei help me for this race. No offence to you guys, you're great racers but... this is personal."

He almost whispered the last part.

"Well I wonder why it's so personal between you two, it's almost a if this isn't about a race..." Neville says jokingly, with an undertone of immense innuendos.

"Shut up, Neville." Nikki says as she's laughing.

Sal tells me he's thankful I didn't tell them about the details, before I get into my car to race with Neville.

Seeing him this happy puts me in the best mood for a race.

                                                        - Later that same day. -

After winning this race, I head to the safe house to be there as soon as possible, to meet up with Sal. Neville barely had the time to congratulate me, but he knows the race with Sal seems important to both me and Sal, so he doesn't ind it. No matter how much shit we give him, Neville is still a good guy although he's clumsy and has a talent for saying the wrong thing at the wrong time and arriving at the worst time possible.

Either way, It was a quick race, but it's 8pm already, so I'm just dropping by the safe house to tell Sal we're going there directly, no time for a break.

I arrive at the safe house and see Sal is ready to go. I stop by his car window and open mine.

"Ready to go, champ?"

He laughs.

"I wouldn't call myself that. You're the one who just won a race."

"How did you know?"

He's taken aback by my wondering.

"I always ask Nikki or Neville if they know how good you did in your races."

He realizes how this sounds and immediately continues, not letting me answer.

"I'm not a stalker! I swear I don't stalk you when we're not racing..."

"You never ask me how the others did, or do you ask them how the others did?"

He avoids my gaze and avoids my question as well, which, in all honesty is quite amusing to me.

"I just think it's important to know how the rest of the team —

"Alright angel face, it's fine, I don't mind at all."

He blushes when I call him angel face and turns away, gripping at his steering wheel, trying not to smile.

How can he be so cute?

He keeps looking at his steering wheel for a few minutes and I keep watching him.

Eventually he turns to look at me. I don't bother making it look like I wasn't looking at him the whole time. And he definitely notices, but doesn't say a word about it.

"We should go."

I nod and we start driving to the location. It's a long drive and we arrive about 10 minutes before the race starts.

He seems both nervous and excited as he lines up behind the starting line next to my car and a Nissan Skyline GT — R 34 with a beautiful, confident woman at the wheel obviously eyeing him, to which he doesn't pay any attention to. Instead, he turns to smile brightly at me and gives me thumbs up. Over the intercom, he tells me good luck.

Sal drives with a perfect start, and I follow in his steps. Or wheels, more accurately.

A Lotus Elise effortlessly passes me by and tries to get in front of Sal, but I speed up and hit it on the back side, making it turn into the opposite direction unwittingly.

"Wow! Nice job Lei! Thanks!"

Multiple times the driver of the Lotus Elise tries to give me payback by hitting my car but without succeeding.

"Wait let me get rid of that guy!"

I barely have the time to yell out "Wait Sal what are y -

When he suddenly brakes and the other car slams on the breaks and loses control, crashing into the nearest wall.

"Go ahead, I'll catch up!"

"What the fuck Sal, that was so dangerous!"

"I know what I'm doing, just keep driving!"

I clench my jaw but keep driving without a word for most of the race.

"You be careful, Lei, I wouldn't want anything to happen to you.We've gotta win this race."

My heart starts beating faster as I know he's gonna do something I wouldn't approve of.

I look in to my rear view mirror and see him speeding up into a small alley going up on a hill, and exiting the road to jump over all of the cars, back into the racing .

I gasp and stop breathing for a few seconds. As he is mid air, for a split second I swear I can hear him say:

"Lei if I don't make it out alive of this, give the money to my sister and just know that I love you."

I scream and slam on the gas pedal as I see Sal's car land harshly on to the ground, but I can breathe again as he starts speeding up again, meaning he's alive and able to race. He crosses the finish line before anyone and shortly after him and a few other cars, I do too. I slam on the breaks and get out of my car as soon as I can, running towards him. He gets out of his car, busted lip and barely standing and I immediately embrace him in my arms, hugging him as tight as possible, tears streaming down my face.

I whisper between my sobs: "I really thought I had lost you for a few seconds you idiot!"

"I'm so sorry..."

We pull back and realise everyone is around us, cheering on Sal.

Sal looks at me in disbelief.

"We won... We won!"

"No Sal, you won." I smiled at him proudly, tears still in my eyes.

"I wouldn't have done it without you. Lei."

He pulls me into his arms again.

Surprised by the feedback, he signs autographs, smiling.

"I never thought I'd have to do this..."

"You deserve it, Sal. Besides, you'll get used to it soon."

After getting paid 50000 in cash, sirens start blaring and everyone starts panicking.

Someone screams. "The cops! Everyone fucking move!"

A cop car slams into my car I had parked in the distance.

"No! Fuck, my car!"

Before I even start heading towards my car to beat up the cop who did it, Sal pulls me away and we run to his car, and he starts speeding up as soon as I get in.

barely making the turn without crashing into the wall, Sal concentrates on the road, never slowing down until we're finally atleast 100 miles away. He pulls over to the side, after making sure we've lost the cops.

"I'm sorry about your car. It's my fault, if only I hadn't asked you to do this race, maybe I wouldn't have won but it's at the cost of you losing your car..."

He looks on the verge of tears.

"Sal, don't blame this on yourself, this is all the cops."

"Please don't fire me, don't leave me like I used to be befo -

"Sal, stop, I won't fire you, I won't leave you alone, you're still in my team, and you can keep the 25000, I've got other cars. In fact yours is beat up too, so I've got one car and you've got a second one until you've fixed this one, as soon as we get to the safe house."

"You don't have to, Lei, but thank you. But I don't want to head back right now."

"Neither do I. Call your sister, tell her we're coming tonight or tomorrow morning."

He looks at me in disbelief, but soon nods and gets out of the car, pulls out his TMobile and calls a number he wrote down.

I can barely hear what he's saying, so I can't make out if it's going well or not.

He opens the car door and plops into his seat.

"So?"

He looks in a daze, confused, and I cant read anything on his face."

"She... She said she'll be waiting, and she forgives me..."

"Well, aren't you happy?"

"I am, but I thought she'd never forgive me and I could only give her the money, and leave, but it turns out she's been waiting for me to find her some day..."

He starts the car and pauses. He turns to look at me and stares at me for a few seconds, before caressing my cheek with his right hand. He smiles gently at me and puts his hands back on the steering wheel.

He smiles to himself while I put my hand on my cheek, processing what just happened. My heart is beating fast, and for a second I wonder if I'm okay. I notice I, too am smiling to myself. Sal keeps driving, this time like any other person, calmly, unlike in races, and we barely say a word except for the occasional joke.

He glances at me every now and then, making me feel a certain type of way.

At some point, the radio blasts New Found Glory's "Hold My Hand" and as he taps my hand twice gently and tells me he likes this song when I turn my head to look at him, I feel there's more to it, but I don't mention it.

After more than 2 hours of driving, we finally arrive. There's a beautiful younger girl standing in front of a tall building.

"That's her. Oh my god she's grown so much..."

"Let's go, don't let her stand there any longer."

We take off our seatbelts and the girl keeps standing. She seems to be unable to move, most likely because she's so nervous to meet her brother again. "Alice..."

She couldn't speak, but when he got closer to her, she immediately hugged him.

"Bro where have you been! You missed my coming out!"

"I — what?"

"I live with my girlfriend in a flat up there." She points at the building behind her.

"Oh, okay, well that's cool! How did mom and dad react to that?"

"Well, it seems they've got a thing for kicking out their own kids. As soon as I told them I was bi, which I'm not by the way, I'm not attracted to guys, but I thought I was back then, they told me to find another place to stay at because "all my stuff would be put out the door by next week"..."

"Oh... That was even more unnecessary than it was to kick me out..."

"Is that your girlfriend? She's the girl you told me was coming right?"

Sal turned to me, blushing, not knowing what to say. I smiled and answered for him.

"I guess that's the easiest way to explain it." I winked at Sal and he turned away, smiling slightly and blushing more than ever.

"Do you guys wanna come in? It's kind of cold outside."

We follow her inside and take the lift to get to their appartment.

"It's not much, but it's our appartment" she says as she shows us the livingroom with an open kitchen.

"Oh Amy, there you are, here's my brother, Sal and his girlfriend, — she paused and looked at me questioningly, to which I answered my name — Lei. Sal, my girlfriend, Amy."

Every time she mentioned I was apparently his "girlfriend", Sal became redder than the lamp next to him.

"So they took it well huh? That you're a lesbian?" Amy asked.

"Surely not like my parents." we all laughed and everyone proceeded to tell eachother what we'd been doing, where we had been, etc.

After catching up, Sal handed Alice a stack of money, telling her to take it.

"What? I can't just take that much money from you, Sal, you're not rich, I can't just take 25000 from you!"

I realize he hasn't told her about the money before. He only told her about visiting.

But Sal tells her he won the race for her and he still has money and a place to sleep at and she, with reluctance accepts the money.

We say goodbye after staying multiple hours, and they ask us to stay and sleep here as they're going to sleep too, but with the excuse of the adrenaline due to today's events to not sleep, Sal and I take off in his car, going even further in the opposite direction of the safe house.

We have no races tomorrow and a day off wouldn't hurt. We evnetually stop in the middle of deserted country roads, parking on the side and getting out of the car. Sal opens the trunk.

"I always keep snacks in here." he laughs and takes out a box of random cookies and candy.

He takes a candy out of it's paper and tells me to open my mouth and aims at it, throwing it, missing the target and making the candy fall on the ground. We both laugh and he asks me if my eye is okay while I dramatically shout "Oh no I am now blind!" and fall on the grass.  Sal laughs and helps me up.

"Hey, the sun's coming up, let's sit on the roof of my car and watch it going up!"

We jump on the roof and start eating some candies and cookies. We finish them as soon as we start and end up just throwing the box in the trunk before sitting back on the roof of the car.

Both of us are lost in thought and I think about the race.

"Hey, Sal, did you mean what you said when you jumped over the ledge of the hill?"

He stays silent for a moment and looks at me.

"It's what I've been trying to tell you for a while, and even though the adrenaline spoke for me, there's nothing I mean more than that."

This time, he doesn't hesitate. He takes my head in his hands softly and leans in, and as my heart seems to almost beat through my chest, I lean in too, meeting his lips slowly moving in a perfect kiss. The kiss deepens and my arms slip around his body, pulling him closer as he does the same. Soon enough, I'm laying on the roof as he continues to kiss me as if he's been craving it for his whole life. My hands run across his back and we stop for a few seconds to catch our breath. He lies down next to me and takes my hand in his. There's not enough space to lay down comfortably but neither of us want to move. We watch the sun go up, shoulders touching, holding hands and lips still warm, as we feel like both of us are the only people awake right now.

"I love you."

Sal looks at me and smiles.

"And I love you, Sal."

[ace-pidge]

Main points from Afterbuzz interview

Spoiler warning for season 4!

So Afterbuzz TV sat down with Lauren Montgomery, Joaquim Dos Santos and Jeremy Shada to review episodes 1 and 2 as well as discuss the season as a whole. Here’s a summary :)

*Note: a lot of this is paraphrased since I was taking notes as I was listening, but it’s as true to what was said as physically possible

About Keith (and Shiro):

Last season was a lot about building Keith’s confidence as a leader and then immediately he steps out of the role. Joaquim says Keith has always been reluctant to be in the leader position

Lauren says we have a situation where we have one paladin too many, something’s gotta give. Had Shiro stayed gone Keith would’ve absolutely stayed put, but with Shiro back Keith feels like he can’t fill those shoes, so he’s kinda pulling back to sort of force Shiro to step back in

Lauren is responsible for the Shiro & Keith cameo in the background of the Holt final photos before the Kerberos launch

Lauren calls Shiro Keith’s “guiding light”

Lauren says Shiro is going to have a “lot of development” 

Jeremy teases more backstory 

About Matt:

The fakeout at Matt’s grave was Joaquim’s idea

Steve Ahn’s birthday made it into the graveyard scene as Matt’s wrong birthday (or perhaps the coordinates? wasn’t clear)

Jeremy says he watched the graveyard scene not knowing anything since he wasn’t in that episode, and even he believed it for a second, despite Matt’s VA being around a lot to record lines

Lauren says she still gets affected and she’s known since day one that Matt will be back (”and he’s gonna be a rebel and he’s gonna be an action star!”)

Matt is a huge dork. He had to grow and evolve to survive but at the heart of it he’s still Pidge’s dork of a brother 

Matt was the only person Pidge could relate to growing up because she was way too smart for everyone else in her class, smarter even than her own teacher, so she had no one except her brother. And then he kinda left her behind, not intentionally or in a mean sense but still

Matt got into the Garrison on brainpower and he isn’t as powerful as some other characters. He very much fights like someone who isn’t a big guy (speed not strength)

About Lance:

Lance is all about being in the spotlight. The Voltron shows are everything he’s been waiting for

Jeremy says it was fun playing those more lighthearted episodes after the more serious growing and maturing from last season

Lance has a lightheartedness to him; Jeremy says that’s his favourite part of playing him

Lauren jokes that it’s all Jeremy’s fault cause he’s so good at playing Lance and if you’re mad that Lance is funny all hatemail goes to Jeremy

Joaquim says it’s tough with so many characters, but reiterates that every person will have their time in the spotlight

Regarding Lance’s pep talk to Allura at the end of the season, Lance knows when someone needs to step up, he’s a really good team player. He loves being the center of attention but he’s also able to pull back. Jeremy says the team is like a family now, and it’s that respect and care and love for everyone on the team that lets Lance be confident in saying stuff like “I know you can do this, it’s all you” as opposed to something like “I think I can do something!”

Lauren points out that Lance started in the blue lion which is a support lion, holds Voltron up, and he’s since graduated to the right hand which is like the ultimate support to the head. It’s a good indication of what’s beneath the surface, he’s really good at knowing everyone’s strengths, good team player

Joaquim adds that if you look deeper, Lance comes from a big family, and within the family dynamic he was probably very much that guy. But to people outside the family he wants to be seen as front and center

Jeremy says Lance is going to continue to grow, building on the more serious moments from this season and the one before. Lance becomes “a voice of reason” soon

About Lotor:

Lauren is to blame for Lotor dislocating his shoulder. They wrote themselves into a bit of a corner with that; they knew he had to get away but how? It’s not like he could drive with his mouth or pick the lock, the space cuffs don’t have locks. Joaquim says everyone cringed just looking at Lauren’s storyboards for that scene without even sound or anything

Lauren says Lotor is genuinely intelligent and we’ll eventually learn things about him “like maybe he’s not SUPER backstabby?”

[both Joaquim and Lauren are very tight lipped on Lotor backstory and relationship with Honerva etc]

Voice cast trivia: 

Josh Keaton voices Regris

Whenever there’s an extra lady voice it’s usually Kimberly Brooks or Cree Summer

Lauren recalls one amazing blooper when Rhys Darby (Coran) just got so frustrated with a line he cussed them out. Joaquim and Jeremy add that Rhys has this amazing way that he abandons a line, where he’ll just go dadadadada--awwh (“he deflates”). To be fair Rhys gets a lot of the hardest and most technical lines

Andrea Romano (the show’s retired voice director) did the robot voice at Matt’s grave--she has a tradition of doing computer voices (she was the batmobile for a long time)--and she also has done the Castleship’s voice as well as some helmet translations

Te-Osh was voiced by Lacey Chabert who does Nyma. She has a naturally high voice so they pitched her down for Te-Osh and found it turned out amazing

John DiMaggio voiced lieutenant Ozar as well as the bounty hunter and the illegal arms dealer from Reunion (There’s a cute story with Christine Bian--backgrounds and props supervisor--who is a huge Futurama fan so she came in the day John was recording and he was super nice and signed her things and as he left she yelled “Bender we love you!” and you hear down the hall “shut up baby I know it”)

The Blade of Marmora feel the most responsibility out of anyone to do whatever they can against the Galra given it’s their culture and they want to prove to everyone that they’re willing to go as far as it takes to right the wrongs, which unfortunately often leads to BoM operatives being not very long-lived

Joaquim says the grey alien from the mall goes to Earth every now and then for a round of abductions and then he resells everything, which is how he got all the game systems and Kaltenecker, etc

Pidge was determined to play her game and within a few months she had gathered everything to jury rig it so it’d work, and then of course Lance in typical Lance fashion jacked her game system the same way he jacked her headphones

The pixel artist they got to do the game is Michael Azzi, based in Brussels, and he came up with most of it on his own (that boss move at the end where the shot rotates was all his idea)

Any time the show goes Full Anime (the Kaltenecker scene, Matt and Allura’s meeting) it’s usually Steve Ahn’s doing

Joaquim says go watch Matt and Allura’s meeting in Japanese

The Voltron Show episode was very much their Ember Island Players episode. Joaquim says there’s a bit of a disconnect, that it was first and foremost an episode for them internally to come to terms with a lot of stuff, whereas a lot of people are saying “oh they’re speaking directly to us [the fans]” but that’s not the case. They’ve been thinking about this since a long time ago. Lauren says it was written and in production long before the fandom

Lauren would’ve loved to get to know the rebels a bit better and give Olia a proper introductions but just no time