#they all get bat ears because i think they look cool

[ak4e7a]

𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐦 (𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐨𝐧𝐞) - 𝐩𝐬𝐡

𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐤 𝐦𝐞 𝐮𝐩 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐯𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧 / '𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲'𝐬 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐨𝐦

synopsis: you were never one to take the high road... until you met someone who made your body burn like rubber on asphalt.

street racer! hoon x street racer!maneater! reader

wc: 16.9k holy fuck honestly this hoe might be a 3-parter lowk

a/n: hi sorry i disappeared... but enjoy LOL and happy one year to my blog! i met so many cool people over this past year. reblogs are appreciated and i will astral project into your room and hug you ≽ܫ≼

banner by @karinasbaby i love you this one's for you big dawg. year in the making, let's go

“Didn’t think you were going to grace us with your presence tonight, Miss Probation,” Jaeyun smirks as you get out of your car, swinging both of your legs out closed like a lady so as to not flash anyone with the black miniskirt you’re wearing. He greets you with an air-kiss to your cheek, to which you roll your eyes—although you bask in the way the other girls stare at the two of you. If only they knew how annoying your best friend actually was.

“It’s Jungwonie’s turn to race for us, so who am I to deprive my brother and the team of our good luck charm? We need all the luck we can get tonight,” you reply, taking a seat on the hood of your baby pink Supra. “We’re on a good win streak. Might even take this season’s cup without me.”

The other racers from different teams have started to arrive, many of them making their way over to say hello to you. You give your girls—Jimin, who races for Razor; Aeri, the beloved race girl; and Soyeon, a member of the AZ team—air-kisses from across the parking lot. You aren’t feeling like walking over to the groups they’re mingling with. (And because you don’t feel like being near Hwang Hyunjin right now.)

“Fair enough,” he acquiesces, sitting beside you when you pat the spot next to him. “But you know, Wonie is better than you think—”

“Hey, you never let me sit on your car,” Wonbin says, striding over to you with a smirk. You glance up at him, and he looks like he’s expecting you to either push Jaeyun off or scoot over yourself—either way, he wants a turn.

Basically everyone in your little racing scene does, but you think it’s more fun to work them like dogs than to give in to anyone. Especially not after what happened with— “You’re not even in Enigma, Wonbin. Privilege is for teammates only, get lost,” Jaeyun says condescendingly.

He looks at you again, like an expectant puppy—which only works if it’s Jaeyun doing it to you— waiting for you to reach into your purse. You sigh and reach in and feel around for a particular wrapper. “Here. Go away.”

The Australian snickers as Wonbin walks away dejectedly. “The grandma coffee candy, huh?”

“He was too cocky, that's all he deserves tonight. Even if he’s cute. He’s lucky I gave him anything at all.”

“What about me? I’m cuter,” Jaeyun asks, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear with his signature cheeky grin, batting his eyelashes at you the way you do to him. You’re used to flirting with him; it’s more of a way to keep both your skills and his sharp than anything romantic or suggestive. After all, you grew up with Jaeyun, and you know all his embarrassing secrets just like he knows yours. One time in high school, the two of you fake-dated for a week to get some girl too obsessed with him for her own good to leave him alone. It’s safe to say she didn’t buy it, not one bit. You and him bickered too much for it to be believable, and you accidentally screamed when he kissed you on the forehead. 

“Hmm…” Playfully, you pretend to be deep in thought, hand digging in your purse again. “Here.”

His face lights up in innocent delight, a huge contrast to his outfit of baggy cargo pants, oversized hoodie, and sneakers, complete with a thick, iced-out Cuban-link chain around his neck. “Ooh, yum! Grape Hi-Chew!”

You roll your eyes. “I only carry that for you, loser. Everyone knows the mango one is the best.”

“You just say that because grape was—”

“Hey, Y/N! Nice wrap,” Riki says, waving his long arms at you like he’s drowning. The tall, newly-turned 21-year-old bounds towards you before tackling you in a hug that sends you almost crashing into the ground, your hands flying to tug the hem of your skirt down lest your protective younger brother scold you about not dressing for the weather. It’s a cold spring night, as proven by Riki who’s in a loose, knitted navy blue sweater and destroyed light wash jeans.

“Jeez, Riki, I just saw you yesterday, no need to suffocate me,” you grumble affectionately, reaching up to muss his black-and-silver hair before sitting back down on the hood of your car. You’ve been fond of the boy since Jungwon brought him over one day, his first new friend since losing his best friend (and one of yours, honestly) in a betrayal that still hurts to speak of to this day. Riki clings onto you like you’re his older sister, too, and you reckon it probably has something to do with missing his own sister back home. “You saw me finish the wrap on the car, too, remember? Jimin and Soyeon were there.”

“Yeah, yeah, but it looks good even at night! Very professional. Maybe you can wrap the GTR next?” he says, to which you side-eye him, and he adds, “I can pay you.”

“You can pay for my meals every time we go out to eat for the next three months and I’ll call it even.”

He laughs. “Okay, deal. You eat less than Jungwon hyung, anyways.”

“Why are you talking shit about me to my sister again, freak?” your younger brother demands, making his way up to the small crowd that’s starting to form around you, Riki, and Jaeyun. He looks taller today, you think to yourself, and when he comes into full view, you see that he’s riding on the back of an unfamiliar person, a tall man with a sharp jawline and a pretty nose, whose bangs droop over his eyes. He’s wearing a white tank top and jeans, with a black and blue leather racing jacket covering his torso from the chilly Seoul air. 

“Well, did I fucking lie?” Riki snaps back, arms crossed. You hide your laugh in the crook of your arm, eyes locking with the man who’s got your brother draped over his broad shoulders like a backpack. He looks at you intensely, in a way that makes you feel like he’s got x-ray vision or something. You feel like your insides are turning into lava. What’s his deal?

“Whatever, cricket legs.” Jungwon jumps off the man’s back, shaking his hair out of his eyes. You notice that he’s yet again stolen one of your oversized hoodies. “Oh, hyung! This is my sister, by the way. Noona, this is Sunghoon hyung. He’s joining Enigma.”

He’s cute, pretty, even, and you like that. You’ve always preferred pretty boys. And up until about five seconds ago, you would have said that—even though your ex-boyfriend is a cheating bastard who deserves nothing but suffering—he was still the prettiest man you’ve come across. 

But this one, this one in front of you right now, this one takes the cake. He’s got full, thick brows that frame dark almond eyes, and his cheekbones flow into his jawline in a way that makes you think his face has probably stopped traffic at least once in his life. Before you stare at him for way too long, you reach into your purse and pull out one of your mango-flavored Hi-Chews (from your personal stash) to give him. 

“Hi, Sunghoon. Nice to meet you. Welcome to Enigma.”

He repeats his own version of your greeting a bit too curtly for your liking, but you don’t care either way, he’ll be under your thumb in no time, just like everyone else, just the way you like. Rolling the wrapped cube in his hand, he asks, “What’s this for?”

To which you reply, “Oh, nothing. I just like candy.”

“I feel like ‘like’ is an understatement,” Riki snorts, sticking his hand in your purse for something he can snack on. You sigh and hand him your purse for him to rummage around more freely. 

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow at that, but turns to you anyways. “Do you race, too? I don’t want to assume or anything.”

You give him a coy smile, translucent bubblegum-pink-manicured fingernails clicking against the hood of your car as you drum your fingers against it. “Yeah, I do. I’m banned from racing right now, though, until the end of the season at least.”

He cocks his head like a curious puppy, blinking slowly at you. Oh, no. He’s cute and probably doesn’t know it, but he’s definitely dressed like he knows he’s hot. “Why’s that?”

Your smile turns into a smug smirk as you answer, “Because I go too fast.”

“Fourth-gen Supra,” he muses, glancing between your bare legs at the titanium Toyota emblem on the hood that you’d had imported from Japan. For some reason, you have to resist the urge to squeeze your thighs together. “Cute.”

“Oh? And what’s your ride?”

“Beamer M8 Comp,” Sunghoon says, an air of nonchalance about the answer like it’s nothing special. It kind of pisses you off. You’re pretty certain he didn’t win that car by racing for the pink slip like you did with your Supra. Before you got that car, Jungwon’s 350Z was yours, and you’d only had it because you salvaged it from a junkyard and rebuilt the whole damn thing yourself when you weren’t working or sleeping.

If there’s one thing you might hate more in this life than cheaters, it’s people who come from money, people who didn’t understand or couldn’t comprehend that they were playing life on easy mode. People who never had to suffer, because, to you, they never learned anything.

Sure, you had a hard life. Sure, your parents kicked you and Jungwon to the curb when the both of you refused to take over the family business. Sure, you worked hundreds or, more likely, thousands of hours just to make ends meet and take care of your brother while the two of you finished school. Sure, you wished you could have enjoyed your youth more instead of having to worry about money.

But instead, you had to pay the price for your freedom. Part of you still wonders if it was all worth it. If you should have stayed in your hometown. If you should have just went along with the arranged marriage your parents were proposing with someone you didn’t even know instead of running away with your ex and dragging Jungwon to hell with you.

Okay, maybe it really pisses you off. 

“Ooh, rich boy,” you deadpan, your long nails preventing you from balling your hands into fists. You deny him the pleasure of seeing you roll your eyes back into your head. “Daddy must have spent a lot on you.”

“That’s not very welcoming to say,” he shoots back, although his voice is just as flat, his eyes narrowed at you.

You pout mockingly at him. “I’m just teasing our newest member—don’t worry, silver spoon. It’ll be over for you sooner if you decide to quit while you’re ahead.”

“You scared you won’t be the best racer on the team anymore or something, princess?”

“Just wait for me to get off probation and I’ll make you eat my brake dust, Daddy’s Money.”

“You’re already calling me daddy, even though we just met? Because it was my money that bought the car, for the record.”

You’re a little embarrassed and also slightly turned on, neither of which you would ever admit to even Jaeyun, and he knows you just about as well as he knows every single Fortnite map. “Tell someone who cares.”

The back-and-forth between the two of you is thankfully cut short as everyone hears the roar of a particular engine, marking the arrival of Enigma’s leader. You could just kiss him for his impeccable timing—if it weren’t for the fact that neither of you saw each other that way. You reckon both of you would rather eat a jean jacket than get more intimate than the platonic skinship that marks your friendship with him and the other Enigma boys.

People move aside as he puts the metallic, slime green Lamborghini Huracan in reverse and backs up into the parking spot next to you. The ostentatious exotic car belonging to Jay was gifted to him by one of his first clients, a filthy rich businessman who respected and admired Jay’s hard work and dedication to his job despite Jay being a corporate grunt in those days. During this period in your lives, Jay never once showed up late to a meeting with Mr. Big—even when his old Mitsubishi Lancer finally gave up on him after years of being pushed to its limit, even if it meant he had to wake up at three in the morning to start walking from his old apartment in Ahyeon-dong to Gangnam to make the scheduled 6 AM meetings—since the subways unfortunately didn’t operate until 5:30.

After Old Moneybags found out about Jay’s struggle, it was safe to say your best friend wasn’t on hard times for very long after that.

“Jay!” you call out, playing up your role as the only girl in Enigma just to assert dominance over the racer groupies in attendance tonight. You haven’t seen him since the last race, on account of the both of you being too busy with your work schedules to hang out properly. You immediately nudge past everyone—including Sunghoon, who you intentionally brush up against, your ass against his leg—to be the first to greet him.

“Hey, sweets, missed you,” he says, pulling you into a hug. “You doing okay?”

“Yeah, been just fine. You know me, I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself,” you assure him with a smile. He pinches your cheek. “What about you?”

“Oh, same shit, different day. Hoping I finally clutch this huge promotion at work. Head of an entire department,” he answers, protective hand on your waist as he guides you back to the rest of the Enigma boys. Along the way, he daps up some of the other racers who say hi to him, before giving Sunghoon, Jungwon, and Riki a dap and that weird side hug that guys who are close friends do. “Have you met Sunghoon yet?”

“Yeah, I have.” Your lips form into a slight pout, even though you know everyone but Riki is immune to your occasional petulance. “No one told me we were getting a new member. I thought we agreed to vote if it ever happened again? And… I thought it was never going to happen again?”

“You weren’t answering your phone when we voted, so Riki and Wonie took your vote,” Jaeyun snickers, shaking Jay’s hand and giving him the one-armed, “definitely not gay, bro” hug. “Think you had the group chat muted again.”

“Well, that was for good reason,” you argue crossly. While you loved your boys, that didn’t stop them from getting on your nerves at least once a day. “I was mad at you guys for not wanting to go get milk tea with me. And then you got it without me, clearly.”

“Didn’t we bring you some that night, though?” Jay retorts, ever the level-headed one when his temper wasn’t getting the best of him.

“Yeah… but I wanted to come! We live in the same building, for fuck’s sake!”

“It was a boys’ night, silly. Are you a boy?” Jaeyun pats your head and you swat his hand away, grumbling under your breath at him to not to touch you and to fuck off. 

Your attention veers to Jungwon as he turns to Sunghoon, who’s standing with his arms crossed, watching you bicker with the boys from a distance. “Don’t mind her, she’s always like this. You ready to race?”

“Always like what, Yang Jungwon?” you ask mirthlessly, hands on your hips.

“A brat!” Jaeyun and Jay answer on his behalf, tugging you away so as to allow the racers on tonight’s card to drive up to the starting line, and everyone else can get behind them.

That’s how your scene’s races have worked since you were tasked with changing the rules two years ago; two drivers from each team participating would race, while the others would drive behind them as pace cars. They would also be ready to distract the police at a moment’s notice and keep the roads clear of civillians. It was as ethical as you could make it, and, honestly, it worked and kept everyone safe.

On this night, you’ve been roped into Jaeyun’s metallic blue Mustang Shelby GT500, with glimmering white racing stripes you added on yourself, huffing and muttering to yourself about how the boys were being “mean” to you in front of Sunghoon to try and impress him. Jay has gone ahead to wait at the finish line. He’d refused—again—to not “put the Huracan anywhere near any of these morons with driver’s licenses,” and so he’s there to note down the order in which the racers arrive, armed with several precisely-calibrated stopwatches. 

You yourself have refused to ride with any other driver even though many of them offered to bring you along as their “passenger princess”. You will only ever ride with one of your boys. Riki is in his blacked out R35 Nissan GT-R, the other seats occupied with the life-sized plastic skeletons that he “borrowed” from his school’s anatomy lab. He’s cruising beside Jungwon, and behind you and Jaeyun; Sunghoon is in his own car beside you two.

“How’d you even meet that guy, anyways?” you groan to your best friend, trying to shield your eyes with the way Riki’s obnoxiously bright, blue underglow on his car is blinding you in your side mirror. Your hand dangles out of the open window, fingertips tapping idly on the outside of the door. “He’s so unfriendly.”

“Actually, he’s pretty cool when you get to know him. Riki and I met him at the gym a few weeks ago. He asked if one of us could spot him on the bench press—for three plates, that’s fucking sick! But, uh, yeah. We started working out together after that.”

You scoff. “Oh, great. Another meathead like you two.”

“Y/N, that’s not nice,” Jaeyun chides, glancing at you with the same affection of an older brother, even though you’re both 24 years old. “You’re not being very nice tonight.”

“Well, neither is he. He’s just some spoiled little rich boy who thinks he’s better than everyone.”

“Um… so am I, honestly… and so is Riki, honestly, but you don’t say anything about that, do you?”

You begin to reply, but you frown as Sunghoon speeds past the two of you in his pearly black BMW M8 Competition, the exhaust pipes screaming bloody murder, heading for the starting line just a hundred feet ahead. “Did he hear me say that about him?”

“Most likely.”

“Fuck.”

Part of you wants to apologize; maybe you’re being a little harsh on him, maybe you’re projecting your feelings towards this guy just because he reminds you of a certain someone, maybe you need to finally come to terms with what you’ve been denying for all these years.

Jaeyun pulls up to his spot behind the racers, right between Riki’s GT-R and Jungwon’s 350Z. You signal to the Nissan Boys, as you affectionately call your little brothers, to put their seatbelts on. They both pretend to sigh begrudgingly as they buckle themselves in.

The race girl is your good friend, Aeri, who every guy in your racing division is also obsessed with. Between the two of you, you think that she’s the truly adored one, because she is still as sweet as the day you met her—and you have an inclination to terrorize anyone of the opposite sex who rubs you the wrong way (due to your past). You can’t help it though, and, surprisingly, none of the boys who fall at your feet fault you for it.

But no one ever seemed to feel the need to prove you wrong, either, and that was your problem with them.

Aeri stands in between the middle two drivers, reaching under her top to unclip her bra. You take this as your cue to pull out the megaphone from where it sits waiting at your feet. Leaning out of the window, you announce, “First one to the base of Namsan Mountain wins! I expect a clean race, no funny business. Take no shit, but do no harm!”

“Isn’t that backwards?” Jaeyun whispers to you. You wave him off. He’s right, but you’re trying to emphasize your point about not dragging any innocent people into the racers’ mess.

You continue.“Tonight’s winner will receive the cash prize from me, personally, at a later time. Are we clear?”

A chorus of revved engines gives you your answer. “Alright. Aeri, count us down?”

She nods, pulling out her bra from her top and holding it up in the air. “‘Kay! You guys will go on 1! Ready? 3… 2… 1!” At the final number, she lets the hot pink satin garment drop to the ground, and everyone guns it, driving off in a flurry of exhaust smoke and burnt rubber.

“How much was the buy-in tonight, sweetie?” Jaeyun asks, using his own form of the sugar-derived nickname for you.

“Five million won apiece,” you answer. You scroll through Yun’s phone and play a song on his obnoxiously overpriced sound system. You’ve been joking to your friends that you’re in your “girl Future” era, citing your borderline toxic behavior towards the other racers who constantly slide in your DMs as proof that you’re literally the female version of the rapper. It doesn’t help that your coworker, Minjeong (who is also your self-appointed “work wife”), encourages you to torment men.

“‘I Serve the Base’? Really?” he snorts, leaning back in his seat. “You’re in a mood tonight, huh?”

“I dunno, it just fits the vibe,” you shrug. “Just quit yapping and drive, please.”

“Like I said, a mood.”

You sigh and physically turn away from him like a petulant girlfriend would—knees pointing towards the door and all—and stare out of the passenger window at the cars in front of you. You watch as Wonbin and Hyunjin duke it out on the road, trying to put each other in last place. The way they’re maneuvering their cars makes you a little uncomfortable, but also annoyed that they clearly didn’t listen to a word you said not two minutes ago. “Yunie, flash your high beams at them.”

“Say please.”

You look at him in confusion. Where’d he learn to say that?

“Sorry, Sunghoon does that to Riki and Jungwonie all the time.”

Yikes. Part of you hopes he doesn’t do it to girls, too… but you wouldn’t mind it if he were to do it to you. It’s high time someone really makes an effort to put you in your place, honestly. You reach behind you, to the back seat and grab the laptop you took from Riki, opening it up and typing furiously.

“What are you doing?”

“Accessing the street cameras,” you answer like it’s obvious. Being nefariously good at using the Internet was a perk that came with hanging out with your brother way too much. “I want to see what’s going on.”

“Well? Give me the rundown, then.”

“Jungwonie is in third place, it looks like. He’s gapped Hyunjin in front of us by at least a kilometer… and he’s approaching San and Wooyoung real quick. But—fuck, wait.” You click through a bunch of tabs, scanning the screen faster than when you’re reading twenty-six text message screenshots that Aeri sent you to dissect. “I can’t find Sunghoon anywhere.”

“What? What do you mean you can’t find him? Did he get pulled over or something?” he asks, lowering the volume of his speakers using the button on his steering wheel, eyes still trained on the road in front of him. He flashes his lights again, this time at just Wonbin to pick up the pace, urging him to pass Riki—who now has his underglow set to a stealthy dark red—up ahead.

“No… just… wait, give me a sec… oh, holy fuck.” You click through the camera footage, rewinding it and slowing down the playback. “Oh, my God.”

“Jesus Christ, what is it? You can’t just cliffhanger me like that!”

“I can’t see him because his lights are off.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I think he has a mod on his car—you literally can’t see him unless he drives under a streetlight.”

“Wait, that’s what Riki imported for him?!”

“What the—oh shut the fuck up, it was me who imported that light system! That fucker said it was for a friend when I asked him why he was buying new bulbs, ‘cause I knew he just got those halo LEDs!” You take a deep breath before sticking your hand in the pocket of Jaeyun’s pants.

“Yo! I thought we agreed not to fuck in the car! And especially not while I’m driving—but I guess I shouldn’t turn down some road head…”

“God, shut up, you perv! I need to get your phone and call Sunghoon!” you cry out. “He needs to turn his lights on, what if he gets hit by someone?!”

Jaeyun laughs. He laughs. At your misery, or your panic, or at you. “So you do like him.”

“Shut the fuck up, seriously, Yun, I just don’t want anyone getting hurt. We’re already on thin ice with the cops as it is!”

“Shoutout San, though,” he chuckles, shifting gears so he can close the gap between him and Wonbin, who is starting to approach Hyunjin again. 

Your friend Choi San, also a racer on the AZ team, is from a family of high-ranking Seoul Police Department officials; he’d gotten pretty much everyone off the hook more than once for various traffic violations. You keep a stash of mint chocolates in your purse for whenever he’s around—even if they remind you of your ex-best friend—as your way of thanking him for keeping everyone’s records clean. It also helps that he absolutely loves your attention. 

“You’re so annoying, Sim Jaeyun. Let me call Sunghoon, seriously.”

“Dude, chill, look at the cams again. The gap between everyone is getting smaller.”

You check the laptop screen again, and he’s right. You see Jungwon overtake both San and Wooyoung, and while you’re still holding your breath in worry over your baby brother, another part of your heart soars with pride at how good he’s gotten. You’d like to think that he got his driving skills from you, even though it was your stupid prick of an ex-boyfriend who first put him behind the wheel of a car.

But when you look up, you notice that Jaeyun is distracted trying to change the song playing on his phone. And there’s a sharp turn coming up ahead. You feel sick, adrenaline immediately rushing through your bloodstream.

Instead of screaming nonsense, you slam the laptop shut, tossing it on the floor and practically crawling across the center console to grab the wheel with one hand and the e-brake with the other. You drive your knee into Jaeyun’s leg to floor the accelerator, and at the same time, you deploy the e-brake and turn the steering wheel hard. The car drifts around the turn with ease, thanks to him immediately springing into action, tossing his phone somewhere in the cupholders and countersteering as he shifts gears.

“Pay attention next time,” you mutter in annoyance, as if the two of you almost crashing was a slight inconvenience and nothing more.

“Sorry, Mommy,” he snorts, downshifting back to his cruising speed. You give him the middle finger as you watch the cars change formation in front of you. Hyunjin cuts off Wooyoung at the junction between two roads, and Wooyoung swerves in the opposite direction to avoid hitting San to his left. Wonbin approaches from behind San, flashing his lights, trying to get one of them to move over, but they both downshift, forcing Wonbin to brake, fall back, and move over to try and find another opening.

And then it happens.

You hear a distinct 8-liter engine roaring furiously somewhere in the vicinity, but you see nothing. You think for a second that it could be the sound of a police helicopter overhead, but you doubt it, not if San tipped off his family that there would be a race tonight, and he always does, because you remind him to do it. You think that he pretends to forget just so you’re forced to text him and he’ll have an excuse to talk to you, but you don’t really care because he’s sweet and always earns himself the best of your candy stash—although you’ll reluctantly admit that Sunghoon has been the first to get the candy that you carry for yourself. 

Because you’re not allowed to smoke inside Jaeyun’s car, you unwrap another mango Hi-Chew and wonder if Sunghoon would taste like you if you kissed him. Sure, you don’t like him all that much so far, but he’s hot, so maybe you could just hook up with him and dip—

Oh, who are you kidding? You haven’t slept with anyone since your ex, even though everyone thinks otherwise. You’ve made out with San and Hyunjin a few times, much to the amusement of Jaeyun and Jay, but you never let it get past that. You just go home and use your vibrator to finish the job. Sex is too intimate, feels too much like baring your soul to someone else and you don’t want anyone to get too close like that any time soon.

Too close, too close, too close just like the sound of that engine, and it snaps you out of your thoughts. Sunghoon finally turns his lights on, and reveals his location for everyone to see. He’s at the front, way ahead of even Jungwon, who is currently trying to keep Hyunjin off his tail.

No one but Sunghoon ever had a chance to win.

The race ends before you can truly even register this fact, and everyone parks at the base of Namsan Mountain to congratulate the winner, who seems insanely put-off by all the attention.

“Jay,” you say, approaching the Huracan driver quietly, your shoes crunching the gravel beneath you.

He looks up from his phone at you, jawline illuminated by the screen. The way he slightly tilts his phone away from you signals that he’s texting Aeri. You laugh inwardly; he doesn’t know that you know about them secretly hooking up. “Mm?”

“What was Sunghoon’s time?” you ask. Your bottom lip is tucked under your teeth, and you don’t even realize how hard you’re biting down.

“Eight minutes, twenty three seconds.”

You gulp. Like actually, visibly gulp, as if you’re swallowing a hard-boiled egg whole like some cartoon character. “Oh. That’s—”

“Almost a whole minute faster than your record. He told me he took a detour somewhere at the halfway point.”

“He’s good,” you admit. “Just like—”

Jay interrupts you again, pocketing his phone. “Don’t say his name, sweets. They’re nothing alike.”

You turn to him, eyes searching for answers. He simply puts a hand on your shoulder before pulling you into the hug he knows you need right now. “It’s been two years,” you mutter into the fibers of his cashmere sweater, hoping that the knit is dense enough that it drowns out the sound of your voice. “Why do I still bring him up?”

“He was a big part of your life. And ours, too. It’s okay. You’re going to have to accept that none of it was your fault eventually.”

“And stop taking it out on anyone else that comes after him, huh?”

Jay pats you on the back. “Bingo.”

“Wait, no one ever gave me a real answer, but why do Jaeyun and Riki live together? And Jay and Jungwonie?” Sunghoon asks. He’s sitting across from you in the former pair’s living room, letting your younger brother lean against him as the alcohol takes over Jungwon’s weak tolerance.

You raise your glass like it’s an extension of your hand, leaning against the bottom of Jay’s leather couch where you sit beside him. “That was my idea, when I was moving out of my old apartment. I lived there with my ex, until I kicked him out. When my lease was ending, all of us decided to move to a new building—this one—and I figured that each of the two young ones should have a hyung to look after them. But also, I didn’t want anyone living with me.”

The last part leaves everyone silent, and you laugh, adding, “Why do you guys look surprised? I told you that when we were signing our leases.”

Sunghoon looks at Riki to his right, who is trying to make a soju bomb with more soju and less beer, and then across from Riki at Jaeyun, who is egging him on to just drink straight from the soju bottle, and back at Riki, who listens to the Australian intently, like he’s some sort of genius. “Are you sure that was a good idea?”

You wave him off. “Oh, yeah. They’re just off the clock right now. You know, can’t be serious all the time.” Oops, another dig at him.

Your phone chimes with notification after notification, and it’s not just updates from Candy Crush. It’s text messages, and not the good kind from Aeri or Soyeon telling you which racer they’ve gone home with tonight.

Before you can silence your phone, though, Jaeyun, who’s on your other side, picks up your phone, laughing exaggeratedly as he waves your glowing screen in the air. “Guys, look! I told you it was gonna happen!”

“What?” Sunghoon asks, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. You shake your head at him and mouth the words “don’t listen to him”.

But then Jay starts cackling, catching your phone over your head when Jaeyun throws it to him in order to read the messages out loud. You don’t even bother fighting their teasing anymore; in fact, you’re a little excited, because you know your boys are about to go in on whoever’s hitting you up. “Okay, let’s see what we’ve got here! From Wonbin: ‘it was nice seeing you tonight, do you want to hang out this week?’”

“Ewww, gross,” Jaeyun groans with a mouthful of fries. “He was literally trying to sit on the Supra when Y/N pulled up!”

His revelation is met with a chorus of laughs and jeers as your boys mock Wonbin for his transgression, for being so stupid and arrogant to think that you would have just given him a free pass. After all, that car is your baby. You suffered a lot for it, and not just anyone could come up and touch it. In fact, one time, Jungwon was banned from riding in your car for a month because he got his fingerprints on your side mirrors.

“Did San-hyung text noona?” Riki’s nosy ass asks, running up behind the couch and diving onto it to look over Jay’s shoulder. Jay pushes his head away. “Oh, shit, he did!”

Jungwon sighs, slumping further even against Sunghoon. “God, just read it and put me out of my misery. He’s so down bad for her, it’s disgusting.”

Jaeyun giggles, and kicks his sock-covered feet like a schoolgirl. “He’s probably gonna ask her on another date and make her bike along the Han River again.”

This makes you choke on your drink, and it almost comes out of your nose. “Hey, I thought we we agreed not to bring that up.”

“It’s not every day I open my Instagram and see your stupid ass fighting for your life getting hard-launched on his story,” he snorts. “Watching you trying to ride that bike gave me second-hand embarrassment.”

“Yeah, it’s like he didn’t even care that you looked stupid, he was really trying to let everyone know that he was out with you,” Jay adds. “Way to keep it lowkey, or whatever.” Your face burns hot with embarrassment as you realize that Yunie has taken out his own phone to pull up the screen recording of San’s Instagram story to show Sunghoon. Now you actually want to smack the phone out of his hand, but you figure it’s fine, you don’t care if he sees you like that. It shouldn’t matter, he’s just one of the guys now. He could join in the teasing for all you care.

Right?

“Yo, hold the fuck up, Y/N, I thought you and Hyunjin were done?” Jay says, scrolling through your notifications.

Your eyes flick up to Sunghoon, who is currently trying to busy himself with separating the perilla leaves—that no one has so much as breathed in the direction of tonight—as he seems to not pay attention to the video, or to what Jay is saying. Either that, or he really doesn’t find it funny. “Put it away, Yunie,” he says quietly, one hand gently pushing back Jaeyun’s phone towards him. “That’s too much. You’re embarrassing her.”

“I thought so, too,” you sigh at Jay, trying not to acknowledge the fact that Sunghoon may or may not have just stood up for you against your best friend. “He ignored my texts for, like, four days, and you guys know how much I absolutely hate that. I know I lag, too, but never that long. At least I’d tell you that I’m busy or whatever. Fuck’s sake.”

“What did Hyunjin hyung say?” Jungwon mumbles. He’s now using Sunghoon’s lap as a pillow, and the sight makes you feel a little soft. You love your younger brother to bits and pieces, and seeing him like this reminds you of the times he’d come home really tired from school and fall asleep at your dining table while you prepared dinner for the two of you. You often yearn for that period in your life, when things were much simpler and the only thing you were sad about was missing your family.

Now you have a new family, but another part of your heart is broken, and time hasn’t healed it—at least, not completely.

“He’s asking if she’s busy this week,” Riki answers. Part of you wants to drag him by the hair and put him on a one-way flight back to Japan. “Oh, Jay hyung is checking her calendar. Yikes, hyung… You’re still pushing that agenda?”

“What agenda?” Sunghoon pipes up after gulping down the last of his beer, his lips glossy from the liquor.

“Oh, he just thinks they’d be cute together,” the freakishly tall boy rambles, making a gesture out of Jay’s line of sight that signals to Sunghoon that Jay is crazy. The alcohol has made you basically nonverbal at this point, and you just let Riki explain your lore to the hot new member of your racing crew. Hopefully Sunghoon doesn’t remember any of it in the morning.“It’s kind of about time that noona gets a new boyfriend. Personally, though, me and Yunie-hyung are on Team San.”

“Isn’t that up to her though?” Sunghoon muses. “Like, why does it matter if she’s single or dating around?”

“Because she’s not that type of person who actually can do anything casual,” Jaeyun interjects, putting a hand over Riki’s mouth, only to pull away in disgust when Riki licks his palm. He wipes the drool off on Jay’s arm. “She just does it because she doesn’t want to get too close to anyone who isn’t us. So it’s a vicious cycle. She says she’s healing, but she can’t fully heal the part of her that was wounded because she needs to be in a relationship with someone who will be patient with her and prove her wrong. Someone who will help her finally get over… him.”

“I figured, from what you told me before,” Sunghoon says quietly to your supposed best friend. He’s not really being much of a best friend now, you think, even though everything he’s said is both correct and true.

This piques your interest. Your index finger circles around the rim of the open bottle of soju that you’d confiscated from Riki. “What do you know?”

“Ey, Hoon, watch what you say, I don’t want her throwing her drink at me!”

You roll your eyes and look back at Sunghoon. “Don’t listen to him. Tell me what Jaeyunie told you, and I’ll decide if I throw it at him or not.”

“Well—”

“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” Jay says, setting down his now-empty glass of beer with a smug, victorious grin. “Well, actually, I’m not, but I texted Hyunjin back and said you’d meet him at that new fancy Italian restaurant in Gangnam on Wednesday at 7. And before you say anything, yes, you’re free that day. I checked your calendar and your emails.”

You flaked on your date with Hyunjin. To teach him a lesson, of course.

But you do start seeing more and more of Park Sunghoon as the weeks pass, what with him being a full-fledged, initiated member of Enigma now. And you hate to admit it, but he’s starting to grow on you, even though you still think he’s kind of stoic—mostly towards you. You can tell he’s softening a bit, though.

Because, truth be told, you’ve also observed him to be honest and kind and genuine, the latter the rarest thing you see amongst the racers involved in your second life who throw themselves at you like moths to a flame. He’s sincere, but he also doesn’t mince his words, so you have no choice but to take them at face value. You like watching him get along with the other boys in your life, the only ones you truly love, the ones who have done nothing but love you like a family could and couldn’t.

Riki, for one, loves to pester Sunghoon when he’s around and makes you sit and keep score for them while they play table tennis in the game room of your apartment complex. They’re both extremely competitive, and you think to yourself that Sunghoon is such a good sport even when Riki’s elaborate, well-choreographed victory dance gets too annoying even for you to tolerate. You’re pretty sure he adds a new move every single time he does it.

They go to the gym on days where Riki’s done with class early enough to beat rush-hour, and they bring you along for dinner afterwards if you feel like coming. Riki’s now got a debt to pay to you, on account of you wrapping his GT-R in a metallic oil-slick color. You and Sunghoon chose it together, because no one else was replying to you in the group chat. Sunghoon even helped you install it, if helping you meant feeding you dumplings from a takeout container because your hands were full with the heat gun in one and a felt-edge squeegee in the other. 

For an entire weekend, he sat in your garage with you quietly, making idle conversation when the white noise would get too much for even him. He asked you about yourself, and you told him about how you met Jake in third grade, when his family moved to your hometown all the way from Australia, and how you became friends with him only because you were the only one in your class who knew how to speak decent English. (You watched a lot of American TV shows on illegal streaming sites.) In turn, you asked him if he likes his job as an investment banker, and he tells you that he wanted to be an automotive engineer when he was younger, but every man in his family works in finance and expected him to do the same.

This admission prompts you to share that you were supposed to step up and run your family’s successful chain of restaurants, but you refused to do so, choosing instead to run away with your boyfriend at the time and follow him to Seoul for the two of you to go to college. Jungwon even came with you, and you let him. Sunghoon asks you if you regret it. You say no, because, really, you don’t. But you do still have trouble sometimes trying to understand why some of the people you loved the most in this life—your mother, your father, and later on, your boyfriend—did not care if you were happy. 

They only really cared that you did as you were told.

And Jay, much to your amusement, happens to be at the butt of most of Sunghoon’s teasing—whenever he’s in his extroverted mood, that is. They bicker much like Tom and Jerry, but you can tell that they get along just fine deep down. After all, Sunghoon’s been helping Jay decorate his and Jungwon’s apartment, listening (more like tolerating, if anyone were to ask you) to Jay ramble on and on about Herman Miller chairs and Noguchi lamps, and no one else can be in the same room as him when he gets like that, and that’s saying something because your apartment is also decorated in the mid-century modern style. 

Jungwon sometimes tags along with them to furniture showrooms, strictly on the condition that they treat him to a meal afterwards. Sunghoon, not so surprisingly, is always the one who invites you along with them as well, ever since that first night when you complained about the boys getting milk tea without you. You wonder if it’s a pity invite, but you don’t really care much if it is, because he doesn’t seem like the type who does things he doesn’t want to do.

There was this one time two weeks ago that you came along with them to go pick out a new rug—first mistake. Your second mistake was forgetting to eat before leaving your apartment. You sat on a chair clutching your stomach with one hand, scrolling through your phone looking at the drink menus of nearby cafes with the other. Little did you know that Sunghoon, who was standing right beside you, was nosily peeking over your shoulder while also on his phone, typing in the names of whatever menu item you would pause on.

He disappeared for a few minutes after telling you he forgot something in his car. This left you to decompose in your (very cushy) chair while you listened to Jay and Jungwon argue about low-pile versus high-pile rugs. You contemplated how long it would take for them to notice that you’d passed out from hypoglycemia. But then Sunghoon returned, holding a bag from the food delivery app you all like to use. He’d nonchalantly and wordlessly taken out a peach iced tea and a sandwich to hand to you, but you looked up at him like he was God coming down to earth to save you. You thanked him profusely and he actually smiled at you, eyes crinkling up at the corners and turning into pretty crescent moon shapes. 

If you didn’t already know that Jaeyun loves women, you’d think that he has a crush on Sunghoon. You seem to have lost your pet best friend to his new pet rich boy. Jaeyun loves to spend time with Sunghoon, even though he’s not at all very talkative. Regardless, every single time you come over to Yun’s apartment, Sunghoon is either already there or five or ten minutes away, depending on the day of the week and the time at which your best friend invites you over to his and Riki’s apartment. 

Then the three of you, with the occasional addition of any or all of the three other Enigma boys, will inevitably order some takeout delivery and watch a film—”Not a movie,” you insist—until you inevitably start crying at the plot and say you have to go home before the boys really start making fun of you. Sunghoon always walks you to your door, even though you live just down the hall. You always tell him he doesn’t have to, but he always brushes you off and tells you to get your things so you can leave. 

And one time, about a week ago, you heard him scold the other guys for being mean to you, reminding them that even though you’re technically one of the boys, you’re still a girl at heart, and they should make some effort to be nicer to you. You heard him really dig in to Jungwon in particular, and while you kind of felt the urge to come back into the room and defend him, Sunghoon told your brother to show some respect and think about all the things you’d done for him in the past seven years. So you stayed back, still in shock that Sunghoon had spoken up for you so vehemently.

Speaking of your younger brother, your precious baby all grown up, the only family you have left: Jungwon adores Sunghoon, viewing him as the older brother you wished you could have been for him. Yes, Jay and Jaeyun are literally right there, but you can tell that the connection between Jungwon and Sunghoon is different. Jaeyun is good for keeping both Jungwon and Riki out of your hair when you’re busy, and Jay indulges your brother, spoiling him every chance he can get, having no siblings of his own. 

Somehow Sunghoon has gotten through to your brother in terms of his life and his career; after all, he’s close to finishing college soon and doesn’t know what he wants to do just yet. You would kill for a chance to help Jungwon, but you reckon he hasn’t come to you because he doesn't want to add to your stress and you could cry at how considerate he can be when he isn’t teasing you. You promise yourself that one of these days you’ll thank Sunghoon for his help, maybe some time after you finally admit to yourself that you were wrong about him being a prick. And maybe you’ll apologize for making assumptions about him in the first place.

Yes, you’ve been observing the way Sunghoon gets along with everyone, and you’re happy, you really are, but something is gnawing at you. While the arrival of new racers in your scene is nothing new, Enigma itself hasn’t been disrupted since Jungwon met Riki and all of that other shit went down. 

More importantly, you haven't been disrupted for so long. Two years, to be exact. It’s been two years since you got your heart broken twice, and you’ve spent so long holding everyone at arm’s length away from you because you’re not too keen on ever experiencing that again. Sure, you date around, but like Jaeyun said, they don’t mean anything to you. You know what they want and it’s what you refuse to give them. And then this guy, this fucking guy with pretty brown eyes who is soft-spoken and quiet and has the most beautiful face you’ve ever seen in real life… this fucking guy comes in with the audacity to make you feel like he simultaneously likes you and wants nothing to do with you.

Although you think the latter is just a defense mechanism on your part. You’d tried to convince yourself that he only cares about you so that the boys don’t kick him out of Enigma, because if the two of you didn’t get along, there would be no way he could stay on the team. After all, you’re still their best racer, and more importantly, their best friend. But that can’t be all true, because you fight with the boys sometimes, sometimes real petty fights that end in everyone crying, and you’re still an Enigma member through and through. So telling yourself that Sunghoon secretly hates you because of your ways is a lie on your part.

Because right now, about three months after you’ve first met, when you’re at the club with the boys, there’s no way Sunghoon truly doesn’t like you. The rational part of your brain can recognize that; after all, you’ve watched him countless times coldly brush off the advances of random girls in public who see his credit card and try to take advantage of his generosity. 

And you saw with your own two eyes the way he looked at you when you’d asked him if what you were wearing (a white mesh mini dress with baby pink kitten heels) was actually “too much,” and if you should go change like the others had said. You heard with your own two ears when he told you, “It is a bit much, but you look good. If there’s any trouble, don’t worry, I got you.”

It’s a good thing your face was already pink from the makeup you’d dolled yourself up with.

You never have to pay for drinks when you go out. The boys know this. You always tell them to not waste their hard-earned money—or in Jungwon’s case, your hard-earned money—on you when you can get some rich loser to buy you a bottle of Clase Azul if you bat your eyelashes at them and say you want to ring the bell.

Tonight is different, though. Usually you can score some of the top shelf shit without so much as lifting a finger, but because Sunghoon went with you to the bar, you can sense that the men in the club are not willing to put your dirty Shirley Temple on their tab. He doesn’t even have his hand around your waist, but you assume it’s the malevolent energy radiating off him in waves of expensive cologne that have people socially distancing from you like you’ve got the plague.

“Something wrong, Hoon?” you ask him innocently, swapping cocktails with him as you’ve often found yourself doing whenever the two of you are out together. It’s been a running occurrence since you’ve started joining him and the boys on their hangouts. He’ll order whatever you want to try, be it pasta or a coffee, and you can order something else you like. You sip on his Jack and Coke before making a face and taking your tequila sunrise from him.

��Do you want to wear my jacket?” he says, leaning in close so that you can hear him over the thrum of the bass-boosted music. “These creeps are staring at you too hard. It’s freaking me out. Pissing me off, really.”

You shrug. The buzz is starting to really hit you, thanks to your pregaming session at Jaeyun’s before you left for the club. “Doesn’t bother me, I’m used to it. It’s not like any of them have a chance.” You reach over and brush off invisible lint off Sunghoon’s shoulder, lingering a little longer just to feel the hard muscles underneath his clothes. “You do, though.”

He looks at you with his lips pursed in a flat line, a look he often gives Jay when Jay won’t stop pestering him. Then he takes his jacket off and drapes it over you. “Just put this on. I’ll be right back, I have to take a call.” He shows you the glowing screen of his phone, and you can read the contact name. It’s one of his bosses, and you only know this from the time he invited you to have dinner with them (and they’d pestered Sunghoon into bringing a date, since all of them are married).

You nod in understanding and nestle yourself snugly in his leather jacket, the same black-blue-white combination that he’d worn the night you first met. Idly, you sip on your drink, watching the crowd of swaying bodies underneath the colored strobe lights. In the distance, you can spot Jaeyun’s freshly bleached head of wavy hair next to Jay and Wonie, and that’s only thanks to Riki’s freakishly tall frame standing out like a cell phone tower beside them. They’re dancing with a group of girls, and you try not to gag when you see your younger brother let a girl grind up against him.

“Hey, why don’t you take this off? It’s hot enough in here because of you,” someone yells out right beside you, trying to make himself heard over the music. You turn to him, already pissed off because who the fuck says that?

“No thanks,” you say flatly. “I’m good.”

Even if you are feeling a bit hot inside the packed club, there’s something in you that wants to respect Sunghoon’s wishes while he’s gone, because you know behind his cold exterior he means well and it’s his own roundabout way of looking out for you. Either that, or he’s possessive, your delusional brain thinks, catching a whiff of his cologne in the lining of it.

“Well—”

You’re not paying attention to the douchebag beside you. You look back to the crowd and your boys have disappeared, no giant, Oreo-haired Riki to mark where they are. Suddenly, your tequila sunrise threatens to show itself in your throat. You’ve been hit on before, of course, but not like this, not this insistently. You keep your poker face on, trying to figure out how to get away from him but also avoid getting sucked in and trampled on in the giant crowd that just seems to keep doubling in size.

“Is he bothering you, sweetheart?” another voice asks.

You look to your side and he’s there, he’s back, stone-faced and radiating what you would call actual bloodlust. You nod, giving him a look that you hope Sunghoon interprets as get him the fuck away from me.

“You heard her. You’re bothering the lady,” Sunghoon says flatly to the man beside you, in such a manner that leaves no room for argument. “And not just any lady, either. That’s my girl you’re bothering. Get lost.”

You yourself shiver at his tone. You’ve gotten used to seeing the icy but gentle side of him, so this shift startles you, making goosebumps raise on your back in fear and your core clench in need. You decide not to correct Sunghoon, either. The sooner you get out of this bust of a club, the better.

An hour later, you find yourself at one of your favorite restaurants, a little barbecue spot near your apartment building that serves the best marinated galbi you’ve ever had. You’ve taken the boys there countless times, enough for them to make a joke out of it. The place is supposed to be closed right now, on account of it being one-thirty in the morning but when you were in the taxi with Jay and Sunghoon, you overheard the latter on the phone, telling the other person on the line that he’d pay triple to have the place opened for three hours past closing time of midnight.

While Jungwon talks animatedly about the girl in his class who was at the club and how he somehow managed to get her number, Sunghoon serves you before everyone else, putting the strips of grilled meat on your plate. The other boys groan at him, telling him not to indulge you too much or you’ll get used to it and always expect it, just like you’ve done to them. They don’t really mean it, because you know them well enough that they—just like Sunghoon—don’t ever really do things they don’t want to do, but deep down you still hope he doesn’t take their words seriously.

“What’s so bad about that? Ladies first,” is all he replies to them, and you feel warm inside and it’s not just the double shot of peach soju making its way through your body.

“Okay, me next,” Jaeyun says. He’s still got sweat dripping down his forehead from chasing  tequila-drunk Riki and Jungwon down and dragging them both by the collars of their shirts into another taxi. 

Sunghoon looks at him before passing the tongs to him. “Do it yourself.”

“Jackass.”

This makes your smile widen, giggling to yourself uncontrollably. You take delight in messing with Jaeyun, and seeing the always-stone-faced Sunghoon take part in it brings a certain joy to you that’s both unfamiliar and welcomed. You catch his eye and he sends you a wink, so fast you wouldn’t have caught it if you didn’t have the habit of staring at him when you think he isn’t paying attention to you.

“Dickhead,” Sunghoon shoots back, bushy brows furrowed so cutely that you have the tipsy urge to kiss the peachy skin between them.

“Oh, well, at least if I liked a girl, I’d tell her, so I think that makes you the dickhead and not me.” Jaeyun rolls his eyes and takes a piece of meat out of your bowl, popping it into his mouth and seemingly swallowing it whole.

You frown. “What? Sunghoon likes someone? Is it Jimin? It’s Jimin, isn’t it?”

Jungwon and Riki groan. “Great, another idiot.”

Jay points his chopsticks at your younger brothers. “Shut up and eat your food already.”

“Yes, mother,” they say in unison, digging into their bowls of kimchi fried rice. You look down at your own plate, suddenly losing your appetite. You even consider going outside for a smoke break, but that’s how the boys disappeared at the club a while ago, and it’s too late for you to be going outside alone—at least, that’s what you’re very well aware that they’d argue. Your stomach hurts at the thought of Sunghoon liking another girl, and because you’re you, because you’re almost so self-aware to the point that it could put your therapist out of a job, you know it’s because you want him to like you, and only you.

And it’s not even because you want the same control over him that you have over the likes of San and Hyunjin and Wonbin and whoever else claims to be on your sad excuse of a “roster”. It’s because you like him, and it’s to the point that the only other being who knows this for a fact is your pet cat, because only she wouldn’t accidentally tell him the truth. She’s a cat, for fuck’s sake, a cat you unfortunately named after the girl you think Sunghoon might like.

Maybe the boys have noticed. But you doubt it, because if they did, they would have teased you so mercilessly about it that it would be considered bullying that could be punishable under law. It would be so severe that you’d have no choice but to leave the country if they knew.

What they actually do though, that you’ve picked up on in recent weeks, is their new nasty habit of dropping hints about how you should be with a guy who’s cold to everyone but you. Someone who’s both pragmatic yet thoughtful, someone who always tells the truth but can do so in a way that will spare your feelings because he makes an honest effort to not sound so harsh. Someone who can both protect you and yet also be able to get you to stop when you become… “irrational” was how they put it. Someone you’re attracted to, not just physically, but emotionally, as well.

You’re not stupid, no matter how often you think you are. You know they’re talking about Sunghoon. You know Jungwon and Riki will make plans with you and him and then flake at the last minute so that you two are forced to go out together, alone. They’ve done it enough times that you know it’s bullshit that they have a school assignment due at some random time in the evening. You know Jaeyun will loudly ask Sunghoon what he thinks of a certain girl when he knows you’re within earshot. It pleases you every time Sunghoon flatly replies “What about her? I don’t know her like that.” 

And you most definitely know Jay let Sunghoon take you on out to the racetrack to drive his Lamborghini for a few laps, under the guise that you’ve always wanted to go and Jay finally managed to get a slot booked on a day that he “isn’t able to make it” because of a “meeting”. Who the fuck even works on a Sunday? 

You fixate on this memory for a while. You can truthfully say it was one of the happiest days of your life.

“You’re telling me you’ve never used paddle shifters before?” Sunghoon asked with a lopsided grin, pulling into the paddock of the race track. Your leg bounces in your seat, not out of anxiety like usual, but out of impatience and excitement.

“I drive stick, why the hell would I use paddle shifters? Sorry not all of us drive M Comps,” you retort, rolling your eyes. “V8 bi-turbo headass. Can’t believe you run an automatic transmission.”

“I’m ignoring that. I’ll track it first.”

“What? No way, I’ve known Jay longer!”

“You’re going to drive it like it’s a city bus. I’m going to drive it like I stole it. You can sit there and look pretty first, then you can have a turn.”

“Sunghoon, if you’re just going to stare at me, you’re going to crash us into a wall.”

“Nah, my peripheral vision’s pretty good. Why, you don’t trust me?”

You sighed. You do trust him, that’s what bothers you.

Ultimately, the idea of Sunghoon liking another girl makes you a little… irritated. That’s actually a gross understatement, if you’re being honest. You can feel the dragon’s head of your jealous streak rise up from the ashes where it had once laid dormant, asleep. It wants to breathe fire. It wants to get a rise out of him. It wants to see his reaction.

Luckily, or unluckily, depending on whose side you’re on, your best friend knows you too well.

“Y/N, can you pass the salt?” Jaeyun, who is sitting to your left, asks. The salt pot is right next to Riki, who is sitting to your right.

Taking this as your opportunity, you look at him, tilting your head before you say the exact line that, by now, everyone knows that Sunghoon likes to use. “Say please.”

Jaeyun is too intoxicated to fight back, but he knows you well enough even in his inebriated state that he knows exactly what you’re doing. “Please?”

“Okay,” you answer, reaching across Riki’s plate to grab the salt. When you hand it to Jaeyun, his fingers linger on yours way too long to be respectable. There’s nothing there, of course. It just feels normal, no spark, no giddy, lovesick warmth. He’s just being outright obvious.

Picking up on your scheme, Jay chimes in, a malicious glint in his eye that only comes out after you can smell the alcohol on his breath. You see him elbow Jungwon at the end of the table—quite subtly, to his credit. “Ew, what are you two doing? That’s gross, get a room.”

Jaeyun rolls his eyes, giving Jay the middle finger. Oh, he’s playing up the dramatics of your ploy to see if Sunghoon cares or not. This is what being friends with him for pretty much your entire life is all about. “Can’t a guy and a girl be best friends? Chill, bro.”

“Guys and girls can’t just be best friends,” Jungwon adds, his mouth full of rice and barbecue. “That’s such a lie. You don’t see me with a girl best friend, because if I had one, I’d be fu—”

Sunghoon’s knee hits the bottom of the table, causing everyone to jump back in surprise. “Sorry, guys.” He looks at you, staring at him wide-eyed. “And lady. Leg cramp.” He gets up from the table and excuses himself to go pay the bill, talking with the older woman who runs the restaurant and who you know is madly in love with him (much to everyone’s amusement).

“Alright, what’s going on here?” Jay asks in a hushed tone, dropping his smirk and leaning forward. “What are we doing to him?”

“Forcing Sunghoon to confess,” Jaeyun answers back, switching to English so only the three of you can understand. 

You look at him quizzically, but you speak to him and Jay in English anyways. “Wait, what? I just wanted to make him jealous, what are you talking about—”

“Alright!” Sunghoon says loudly from behind you. “Time to go.”

Exchanging looks with your best friends, you collect your things from where they rest on the worn leather seats of the booth. “I’m gonna take a walk first,” you say. “Anyone wanna join?”

“Nah,” Jaeyun answers. “I’m beat. Gonna take the little ones home.”

“Whoooo the fuck are y-you… callin’ little,” Riki slurs, slumped over a sleepy Jungwon’s shoulder. You know your brother is in a food-and-alcohol-induced coma, since he says nothing about the drool Riki’s getting all over his unbuttoned shirt. “Fuckin’ Oompa Loompa.”

“Riks,” you sigh, getting up on your tip-toes to push his sweat-soaked hair from his face. “Be nice to your Yunie hyung.”

“S-sorry noona,” he hiccups, putting more of his weight on Jungwon, who yelps. “I’ll be nice.”

You shoot Jaeyun a warning look, telling him not to egg on the poor boy who looks like he might throw up in his sleep later. “You guys gonna be okay going home?”

“Yeah, bro, it’s only like a block away,” Jay interjects, prying Riki off of Jungwon and hoisting him onto his own back. Jaeyun takes your brother in his hold, grimacing at the skin-to-skin contact of Jungwon’s bare chest on his fingers. “Go take your little walk. Text us when you’re back.”

“Yes, mother, I promise.” You can feel Sunghoon looming over you like a skyscraper. Without turning to him, you ask, “Are you coming with me?”

“Well,” he answers, his huffed breath blowing over your head in cigarette smoke. “Obviously. I’m not letting you go alone.”

“Okay, I guess,” you mutter with the same tone, shivering to yourself. The air is surprisingly cold for the beginning of June, and you’re dejectedly starting to regret your outfit.

And of course, like clockwork, Park Sunghoon notices your discomfort and quietly puts his jacket over you for the second time that night.

“Thank you.” Your voice comes out in a whisper. He acknowledges you with a soft hum, matching your stride as you cross the empty road to the little park nestled behind the flowering trees.

You continue to walk, trying to think, but it’s difficult to burn off the rest of the alcohol and gain some clarity when the man you’re thinking about is right beside you. You would kill to read his mind. You could just ask him, straight up. It shouldn’t be too hard, right? What’s the worst thing he could say? That he doesn’t have feelings for you? That he sees you as a sister? That he actually does like Jimin like that?

Fuck.

You finally admit to yourself that you do like him. You do like him, you do want him, you do feel those things genuinely and not out of greed, not out of wanting to make him one of your trained dogs, not out of wanting to punish your ex through him. 

You… you fucking like him, and it pisses you off. Him, of all people. Liking Jaeyun seems less complicated than this. You know for a fact that Sunghoon is quite possibly the king of hard-to-get. Kazuha and Yunjin, the race girls from AZ, both made a move on him and ended up fighting over him for nothing (which your own girlfriends clowned on them mercilessly for, while you sat back and watched rather smugly). He didn’t even give them the time of day, let alone his phone number. 

Minjeong, your beloved work wife, wanted to test that theory and when you’d left them during dinner one time to go use the restroom, she tried to flirt with him. She ended up meeting you in the restroom with a smirk, telling you that he’s impossible to break. She’d even asked you if you considered the fact that maybe he likes men.

Intrigued, you’d “innocently” asked Jaeyun and Riki, of all people, to get you the answer. Eager to please, and glad that they had some new bullshit to do, they came back to you after three hours of pestering Sunghoon at the gym during their workout. They’d reported that they annoyed him so bad he left them at the gym, forcing them to take the train back home.

That night, he texted the group chat “Not gay. Waiting for my wife” and nothing else.

A big shock to the rest of you, to say the least. The boys were busy laughing at the first sentence, while you were fixated on the latter half of his text. His wife. What a strong choice of words, you’d thought. But it was a good thing, too, that he knows what he wants. At least one of you does. A wife. That’s more definite than just wishing to feel safe and secure around other people.

“Did you eat well?” Sunghoon pipes up, finally breaking the chilly silence between the two of you.

“I did,” you reply curtly, now doing your best to match his pace. It’s hard. His legs are so long, with equally long strides, but you push yourself in your heels anyways. “Did you?”

“Yeah. Why do you always flirt back?” Sunghoon asks. He sounds like he’s been holding that in for a while.

“What? Are you talking about Jaeyunie?”

He grimaces. “No. I know that was just him being him. I’m talking about the others. That Wonbin guy. San hyung. Hyunjin hyung. Whoever the fuck. Them.”

You stop walking, and so does he. He turns around to face you as you incredulously ask, “So suddenly? Why? Does it matter?”

Sunghoon rolls his eyes at you. That’s the first time you’ve ever elicited that reaction from him, and it hurts a little. “Yeah, it does. You’re making them think they have a chance with you.”

“Okay, so what?” you say harshly. Really, why does it matter to him? He likes Jimin, doesn’t he? Why is what you do any of his business?

“Well, do they?”

“No!” you snap, hands on your hips. The sound of your voice, echoing through the deserted metal playground, startles the both of you. “None of it is ever serious with them! Men are dogs, anyways!”

“Meow.”

You look at the tall man in disbelief. Under the glow of the lampposts, he looks both sinful and heavenly. Even if he’s pissing you off like never before. Blinking—too shocked to laugh—you ask, “Did you just meow at me, Park Sunghoon?”

“Yeah. Because I’m not a dog, and I’ll prove it to you,” he answers, thick arms crossed over his broad, sturdy chest.

“Why bother doing that? Why does my opinion of you matter to you? It’s none of your business what I think. So why?”

He scoffs. But he can’t seem to meet your eyes. “You’re a smart girl. You’ll figure it out.”

Oh, you’re so annoyed. Why now, of all times, can he not be direct with you? Or is this how he actually is? Has he been pretending to be genuine this whole time? No, that can’t be. People usually can’t keep a facade up for that long without slipping up in between, unless they're sociopaths, serial killers, or both. “No, tell me why. I want to hear it from you. You and your stupid… your stupid… stupid, pretty mouth.”

“Did you just call my mouth pretty?”

“Answer the question, Park Sunghoon!”

He glares at you, but it’s not menacing. After what seems like hours, he sighs, turning away. Then he quietly says, “I love the way you love.”

You realize now that the entire time you’ve been watching Sunghoon, he’s been watching you, too.

“What… what do you mean?”

“The way you care about them. The others… The way you look out for them. For Jungwonie and Riki, always making sure they’ve eaten and they rest enough for school, and that they’re on top of their studies. Jay, you always scold him for working too much. And Jaeyunie, you get worried when he’s not home by a certain time… I realize now that you might not have space in your heart for me. And I should accept that no matter what I do, I’ll always just be another one of your dogs.”

“Sunghoon, what—”

He shakes his head, which hangs low in something you think must be shame. His bangs cover his eyes, so you can’t get a read on him unless you brush them out of his face. And with what he’s just said, you don’t think that now is the best time to touch him. “No. We’re not going to talk about this tonight. Or ever again. I can promise you that. Now come on. I’ll walk you home and we can pretend like this never happened.”

Back in your apartment, you lay in bed, wishing that there was still enough alcohol in your system to put your restless mind to sleep. But there isn’t, not after you walked it all off with an awkwardly silent Sunghoon escorting you back to your apartment. You’d offered your couch for him to sleep on—not out of pity, you’d told him. Out of worry. The trains had stopped running and there were no taxis coming to your side of town anytime soon.

He looked like he really wanted to stay. But for whatever reason, he shook his head at you again, told you it was okay, and said he’d walk home.

You’d texted him to keep you updated on where he was. He didn’t reply. You just got a single notification that “Park Sunghoon has started sharing locations with you,” and that was that. No actual message from him. You share yours right back, telling yourself that it’s fine, all the other Enigma boys had your location, too. But you know the truth.

Sitting up, you reach for your phone and your purse, fishing out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter, both of which you’d stolen from Jaeyun. He would steal them back from you very soon, anyways, what with him sharing one singular, pitiful peach blueberry ice-flavored vape between himself, Jungwon, and Riki.

Your cat follows you curiously as you walk into the living room and slide the glass door to the balcony open. She curls up in your lap when you sit down on the rocking chair, just as she always does when you come out to smoke.

“You know this is bad for you, right?” you joke quietly, scratching her head with the hand not holding a cigarette. “You should be inside, breathing the purified air I pay good money for.”

Mrrow.

“Yeah, yeah, I know I should stop. But you should be proud of me. I don’t even do it that often.” That’s actually the truth. You and the boys all say that drunk cigarettes don’t count, and you can’t call yourself a smoker if you only go through one pack every two weeks at the very least. By Seoul nightlife standards, your lungs are healthy. “You can hiss about it to your Jaeyunie-oppa.”

Meow.

“Okay, Jiji. Whatever you say.” You take a long drag before pulling away, flicking the ash onto the ceramic tray that Riki brought back for you as a souvenir the last time he went home to Japan. “Fuck, I really do like him. Sunghoon. Not Yunie, ew.”

Mah?

“Because… because… I just do. He’s so… he’s so not like… you know. Heeseung.”

Your cat stiffens on your lap at the mention of your ex’s name. You laugh to yourself, knowing that there’s no one in this world she despises more than him.

“He’s not… he actually cares about me. He doesn’t have to tell me; I don’t even have to ask him if he does. I see it now. And it’s different from how he cares about the boys. I know it’s not just because I’m the only girl. I’ve seen the way he treats other girls. So… he probably doesn’t like Jimin, huh?”

Jiji perks up at the mention of her full government name, but then looks at you as if to say, are you fucking stupid?

“Yeah, I am, haven’t you noticed? I talk to you all the fucking time.”

Aaow.

“No, I don’t just like him because I get preferential treatment. I just—he never does anything to stress me out. I know he considers my feelings, I mean, fuck, he always tells Jaeyunie and Jungwonie to stop making fun of me when we’re hanging out, and, like, he’s always doing shit for me without me having to ask him or even hint at it. He just… he does it because he wants to? And being around him makes me calm. And he’s strong. And he’s kind, and he doesn’t brag about all the nice fucking things he does for everyone, for me… And… and…”

You lose your momentum as your face begins to sting, tears welling up in your eyes. You can hear the pain in Sunghoon’s voice when he said he’d “always just be one of your dogs” echoing in your head. 

“And he doesn’t lie.”

Lying is something you’ve always had a hard time stomaching. As a child, you were taught that it was better to tell the truth and be punished once than to get caught in a lie and get punished twice. You don’t feel good when you lie. Not even when they’re little white lies, like the one you told Hyunjin about Jungwon being sick when you’d flaked on your date with him.

So when you’d found out that Kim Sunoo, Jungwon’s best friend since literal birth, had been helping Heeseung hide his secret relationship with Sunoo’s own cousin, Chaewon—and had been accepting money from Heeseung to help him keep that secret—you lost your fucking mind.

You’d been through everything with your boyfriend. You abandoned your family for him. You moved to a new city with him. You slept on the floor of a shitty apartment for months with him, while Jungwon was stuck in the dorms of his university with three other roommates. You took home leftovers from the restaurant you worked at all throughout college to feed yourself and your brother.

All of that which you endured, just to find out that everything was a lie.

Heeseung didn’t love you as much as he said he did. Because if he did, he would never have gone behind your back with someone else for months and had the nerve to kiss you with the same mouth he used to lie to you.

Sunghoon doesn’t lie, you tell yourself.

He’s not him, he’s not him, he’s not him.

And it’s a good thing. It’s a very good thing.

Sunghoon, for as long as you’ve known him, always keeps his promises. But you also hope that he breaks that last promise he made to you.

You don’t make any appearance at the next race, which is a week later. You purposefully ignore the group chat when they ask you where you are, if you’re coming to watch Riki beat Shotaro and get his revenge for the last time they’d raced against each other.

They get the message—or lack thereof—loud and clear, and leave you alone. You’re grateful that they don’t pry, although Jaeyun texts you separately to scold you about “making Hoonie sad”. You reply to him with the middle finger emoji, even though you know he’s right. For once, at least.

You get texts from Jimin, Soyeon, and Aeri in the racer girls’ group chat, all of them pouting about how you’re not going to see Jimin and Soyeon race against each other in their newly-modified cars. You apologize and wire Aeri a million Won, telling her to place a bet on your behalf for Riki to win in his race. You stop replying when Jimin and Soyeon get on your ass for not being able to choose between who between the two of them would win.

Minjeong had said something to you at work a couple days ago that made your stomach not be able to stop hurting since. Because she’s the most neutral-territory friend you have, you told her exactly what happened between you and Sunghoon, not sparing any detail—not even the thing he’d said to you that made you feel like a monster.

“You can’t build a new house with the bricks from the last one and expect it to be different.”

She’d said it so casually, like she’d read it off the subject line off the first email in her inbox, but it struck you so hard, hammering in what Jay told you the first night you met Sunghoon. To stop taking out your pain on every man that tried to come your way after Heeseung.

In your defense, again, it wasn’t like they were truly serious about you, anyways. Except Sunghoon, who refused to play your games and refused to flirt back with you whenever you’d try to make a pass at him.

It was your automatic distrust of him that brought you here, sulking at home, feeling helpless beyond your control. What made it worse was that Sunghoon definitely knew why you are the way you are, what with Jaeyun’s big fat ginormous mouth being unable to stop itself from spilling all the gory details of your past to him before you two had even met.

There’s a knock at your door. You find that odd; everyone should be out on the road right about now. You check your friends’ locations on your phone to see who could possibly be in your building right now.

You see Sunghoon’s contact photo right above the glowing blue dot that signifies where you are.

“Fuck,” you mutter.

“Y/N?” he calls out, muffled by the thick wood of your front door. You turn to Jji, who is looking at you curiously.

“Go, bedroom.”

Obediently, your cat runs to your room, and you can tell she uses her back legs to kick it shut behind her by the way it closes softly. It’s a trick that Jungwon and Riki spent an entire week of their summer vacation last year teaching her to do, and this is the first time it’s ever been useful.

You check yourself in the mirror in the entryway to make sure you look at least somewhat presentable. You’re wearing Aeri’s light pink sweatpants and a massive white t-shirt you’re pretty sure Riki left in your car once and completely forgot about. You shrug. It’ll have to do.

You open the door. Your voice comes out harsher than you intend it to. “What are you doing here, Sunghoon?”

The man flinches almost imperceptably, but the glimpse of it still has your heart twisting in your chest. “I wanted to say that I’m sorry I hurt you. It’s not a question of if I hurt you or not with what I said, because I know I did.”

You purse your lips, trying to process the fact that he’s apologizing to you without you having to prompt him for it. “Oh…”

He continues shakily. “I realized that I didn’t tell you the truth. The full truth. I like you, I really do. Like, not just as a friend, you know. I like you like… that. Fuck, sorry, I’ve never had to do this before.”

You smile at him softly, looking up at him. The light in the hallway illuminates the crown of his head like a halo, making him look more ethereal than he usually is. “Never?”

“Yeah, never. It’s usually the other way around, but I caved this time.” He sighs. “You’re a special girl. You don’t know what you’ve done to me.”

You shrug. “Oh, I think I have some idea.”

“Meaning?”

“I thawed you out, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you really did. So—”

“Just come in,” you say, stepping aside to make room for him. “Sorry, I don’t have anything to offer you besides water or strawberry milk, but we can go raid Jay’s fridge. I have a key.”

He laughs. “That’s okay. I can order takeout for us.”

“What’s behind your back?”

He holds up a bundle wrapped in clean white paper. “I brought these for you. They’re not, um… they’re not really ‘I’m sorry’ flowers so much as they are ‘will you go out on a date with me?’ flowers.”

“Roses,” you muse, taking the bouquet from him. The arrangement is simple yet stunning, with various shades of muted pink that you realize are quite similar to the color of your Supra. “How original.” You pause, your voice softening. “But thank you, though, really. They’re beautiful.”

Sunghoon chuckles. “I wanted to get you lilies, but I learned that they’re toxic to cats.”

You stare at him for a moment, dumbfounded. He’s so considerate, he even thought of that. Is there anything that he doesn’t think about? Is this what he does when he zones out? “Who told you that I have a cat?”

“You mentioned it a few times,” he answers softly, like he’s reminding you to breathe. “Like that one time Riki made us take him to the arcade and spent too much money trying to win the stuffed… whatever that was from the claw machine.”

“Hm. I did, huh?”

“Yeah... So can I see it?”

“My cat? That’s a little forward, don’t you think? Aren’t we moving too fast?”

“Your pet cat, you brat.” His grin is wide, though, as he looks down at you adoringly. 

“Oh! Oh, yeah, duh.” You take your phone out and swipe through your camera roll until you come across a picture of your white ragdoll cat, her pretty blue eyes staring at you much in the same manner that Sunghoon is right now. “This is her. Her name’s Jimin… erm, yeah, like the one we know… but I call her Jiji.”

“She’s cute… she kinda looks like you, hm? Is she not here right now?” he asks, scanning your living room. “Is she okay?”

“Oh, I sent her to my room before I answered the door—she doesn’t really like guys except for Wonie and Riki but I think it’s because she thinks they’re her servants. And, uh, also, I don't know if you're okay with cats.”

“Ah. I like cats, don’t worry. I’d love to meet her if that’s okay with you.”

“She might scratch you, though. Just a warning.”

“Yeah, that’s okay. You’d bandage me up, though, right?” When he smiles at you reassuringly, your heart thrums. You don't hear any innuendo in his voice, nothing that suggests that he expects something more from you. Turning away to hide your blushing face, you mumble a “yes” and make a beeline to your room to retrieve Jiji.

You get to the door and open it. She’s standing right in front of you, looking at you expectantly, as if she's asking you where Sunghoon is. 

“In the living room,” you answer. You’re talking to your fucking cat. What’s new? Jiji struts right past you, her tail flicking against your ankles, and trots to the living room. 

You follow her from a distance and watch as she pauses in front of Sunghoon, who extends a hand down for her to sniff at. 

“Hello, Jiji,” he says softly. “Nice to meet you.”

The cat chirps at him, and your eyes widen. Usually, she greets males (mostly your ex and his friend) other than your boys with something akin to a hiss that sounds like slicing someone’s tires open. Sometimes she swats at them, claws out and everything. But she hesitates for a second before butting her little head into Sunghoon’s palm, eyes closed and purring up a storm much like the way she does when she wants you to give her a treat. 

“Wow,” you remark. “She likes you. A lot.”

Sunghoon hums in agreement before saying, “Yeah. Wonder what her mommy thinks of me, though. And if she’ll go on a date with me.”

You blush yet again. He’s certainly dialing up the charm tonight. Mustering up the courage to flirt back, you reply, “I think… yeah, her mommy likes you too. And I think she will go out with you.”

“Mm.” He pets Jiji’s head, scratching between her ears which prompts your cat to roll over and expose her soft belly to him for him to rub. Whore, you think to yourself, as if you wouldn’t have done the same thing. “That’s good. I’m glad. Actually—scratch that. I’m relieved.”

By now you’re very well-acquainted to the way he speaks, straight to the point without very much embellishing in his sentences. At least it’s not hard to guess what he’s thinking. He doesn’t talk with the intent to deceive or play games, and, quite frankly, you adore that about him.

“I don’t just want you to care about me. I want you to let me care about you,” he says suddenly, looking up at you with round, sparkling eyes. He’s being forthcoming and earnest. Enthusiasm suits him well, you think. It makes his face look younger, softer, happier. “I want to earn your trust. I want you to feel safe with me.”

“I already do, though,” you reply, voice quiet as if you don’t want to jinx it somehow.

He gives you a nod of acknowledgement. “I know. But I want to be the one you come to for everything. For anything at all.”

“But—”

“You’d never be a burden to me,” he adds. “You couldn’t, even if you tried.”

There’s still enough time for you to go watch the final event of tonight’s race, the showdown between Riki and Shotaro. You hurriedly fix your hair and throw on a jacket, not caring about how your outfit looks because, frankly, you’re not interested in showing off tonight. You know for certain now that the only person whose attention you’ve wanted has been yours all along.

When you arrive, you can see that the Enigma boys are all circled around what you assume is Riki’s GT-R, only because you can see the underglow bouncing off everyone’s shoes. Leave it to your youngest to be annoying as usual.

You get out of Sunghoon’s car and head over to them, him following closely behind you. You pinch Jaeyun’s forearm and he immediately steps to the side to let you through so you can see what’s going on.

The engine hood is up, and you can see someone’s legs sticking out from under the car.

“What’s going on?” you ask no one in particular.

“Well… Riki fucking forgot to change his oil today, and the jack broke halfway, so none of us can fit under there… except Ning,” Jungwon answers.

“Ning?” you repeat.

“Yeah. The girl I’ve been seeing…” he mumbles. “You know, the one from school.”

Your heart drops at the idea that you’ve been so caught up in your own angst that you haven’t bothered to keep up with anyone else’s life, especially your own brother’s. “Oh. I see. She knows cars, huh?”

“Well,” Riki shrugs. “I guess. Jungwonie-hyung gave her the worst instructions on how to change this shitbox’s oil, and she’s doing it just fine, so she must be smart.”

Before Jungwon can even reach Riki, Sunghoon grabs him by the collar of his shirt, holding him back. “Chill out, bro.”

Jungwon glares at the taller man. “Hey, just because my sister thinks you’re hot doesn’t mean—”

“Good lord,” Jay groans. “Can we please have five minutes of peace so I can start this race? I want to go home already. I can feel my bed calling me.”

“Yeah,” Sunghoon snickers. “It’s calling you to wash the damn sheets, you slob.”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from laughing. Shaking your head, you approach Ning, who’s just rolled out from underneath the GT-R.

“Surprised you didn’t go blind in there,” you say, helping her up. “Riki’s lights are no joke.”

She smiles at you, shaking her head. “Actually, it helped, I could barely see anything down there, it was all covered in brake dust.”

This makes everyone burst out into laughter, mocking Riki for poorly maintaining his car. You roll your eyes, taking the wrench from Ning. You turn to Sunghoon.

“Hoon, can you help me with this? I think we’re gonna need more than an oil change to win tonight.”

“Hey!” Riki exclaims. “The fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

“Language, young man,” you snap back at him before looking at Sunghoon. “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Headlight air intake?” he asks, a smile forming on his plush lips.

You grin. “Headlight air intake.”

“Oh, you guys are officially fucking crazy,” Jay whistles, admiring your handiwork when you’re done. With Sunghoon’s help, you’d removed one of Riki’s precious LED headlights to allow more airflow into the engine, enabling him to push the car harder without fear of overheating. “Poor Taro isn’t gonna know what hit him.”

“This is legitimately worse than the time Y/N Viper-swapped her Supra,” Jaeyun giggles, clapping his hands together in glee. “Ooh, everyone’s so fucked. They’re lucky she doesn’t drive with a missing headlight, too.”

“Don’t give her any ideas,” Sunghoon jokes. “She can barely see at night as it is.”

“Oh,” you flirt back, “Is that why I think you’re more handsome in the daytime?”

Riki and Jungwon fake gagging noises behind you, but you smile.

“We’re making it out of the hood tonight, boys!” Riki hollers from his position at the finish line. Jungwon is beside him, at the wheel of his 350z. To Jungwon’s other side is Shotaro, looking annoyed. You can see him glare a hole into the back of Riki’s head as he walks behind your brother and his friend.

“Since when was Itaewon considered the hood?” you call back at him. Everyone laughs.

You see Jaeyun whisper something into Jimin’s ear, and she giggles. Meanwhile, Jay, awkward as he can be sometimes, plants a kiss on Aeri’s forehead. “Is it fucking cuffing season or something?” you mutter under your breath, thinking it was low enough that no one hears your annoyance.

“Us next,” Sunghoon responds cooly from behind you, draping an arm over your shoulder. “How’s that sound?”

“Holy shit,” Riki gasps, dramatically putting a hand over his mouth. “Sunghoon-hyung’s—”

“Got some serious rizz,” Jungwon finishes. “And if it weren’t directed towards noona, I’d cheer him on.”

Jay rolls his eyes. “Shut up, Won, you act like you haven’t wanted them together since you first met him.”

Jungwon pouts cutely and shrugs. “Yeah, yeah. It’s more fun to pretend to be an opp, though.”

You glare at your brother. “Wanna see a real opp? I’ll tell Ning that you like to—”

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He turns to Sunghoon. “Hyung, did you know that noona sometimes drools in her sleep?”

“I do.”

“WHAT?” the boys chorus like they’re in a cartoon.

Sunghoon looks at them with pure curiosity. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I know? She fell asleep and drooled all over my arm when we watched Interstellar for the fifth time.”

“Sunghoon!” you squeal. “You’re not supposed to tell them that happened!”

“Wait, fifth?” Jaeyun asks, hands sassily placed on his hips. “We’ve only watched it four times.”

You and Sunghoon exchange a look, your face heating up. “Well, uh…”

“Nevermind that,” Jay interrupts, his arm around Aeri’s waist. “We know you two hang out without us. Jaeyunie’s just fucking with you.”

“Yeah,” Riki agrees. “In fact, we want you guys to hang out without us.”

You look at Ning, rolling your eyes. “See what you’re getting into?”

She gives you a warm smile. “I don’t mind.”

park sunghoon: We’re still on for our date tonight, yes?

you: yeah! what are we doing?? i can pick a spot if you don’t have anything in mind

park sunghoon: None of that from you, princess. Just be ready by 7, I’ll pick you up. Our reservation is at 7:30. I already made sure you’d like the restaurant and you can wear that black dress you bought last week.

… Princess?

you: how…?

park sunghoon: Well, I know what food you like because we’ve gone out to eat so many times. And also, I saw you post the dress on your story when you tried it on in the fitting room, so I figured you got it. 

park sunghoon: Before you get upset thinking I’m controlling what you wear, I’m not. I know you have a hard time choosing your outfits (even though they’re all very nice) and the dress looked lovely on you.

He’s trying to make your life easier. You smile to yourself, face going hot. You bite your knuckles to keep yourself from screaming at your desk.

you: oh… okay!

you: i’ll see you later hoon :)

park sunghoon: Can’t wait. Have a great day at work, beautiful.

God, you want to throw your phone across the office with how giddy you are. You finish work early by skipping your lunch break, and you go home at 2:30 in the afternoon, thanks to Minjeong excitedly whisper-yelling at you that she’ll cover for you and to “Go get some dick, girl!” and smacking your ass as you scurried to the elevator. When you arrive home, you immediately run to your bathroom and turn on the shower. You’ve got music blasting from your speaker while you wash your hair and shave and scrub down your entire body. You’re smiling at yourself in the mirror while you dry your hair and do your skincare routine, and you’ve still got a good four hours to get all dressed up for your first real, official date in years.

taglist: @enha-stars @karinasbaby @venomhee @lilifiedeans @sngleehee @hoonfr @seuomo @en-verse @starfallia @eloelooo @lhspeachie @idkdykilr @seochannnn @moon368 @capri-cuntz @p-d1ddy @xxbluestrifexx @p4ranormaluv @laurradoesloveu

[theunluckyclover775]

The Batfamily as Cats

I'm bored and was thinking about cats and then the bats. Chaos ensued. Anyways take this!

Alfred- Solely for the bit, he is your typical Tuxedo cat. There is no way you cannot tell me the man doesn't have butlering in his blood at this point, he's done it for longer than Bruce has been alive and will do it until the day he dies (which will be never, because he's immortal, but I digress!)

Bruce- Is a Maine Coon. They're intelligent, you can train some of them, and in spite of their gargantuan size they're pretty agile. They also tend to get along well with other cats from what I've seen. Also imagine Bruce being able to wrap around his all of the batfam (now catfam) bc of how big he is. That would be too cute for the human eye to percieve. A big black void wrapping around the menagerie of cat breeds that are his kitten children to keep them safe.

Dick- Is a Japanese Bobtail. I know he's not Japanese, but these guys are athletic and known for it, from what I've read. They're also affectionate and companionable, which is something Dick definately is.

Babs- Havanna Brown. I don't have a proper explanation for this one, aside from how intelligent one of my friend's cat is, and I'm pretty sure he's a Havanna Brown (Dude can open doors and it's scary how he can tell time. He also likes to lay on your chest and just stare into your soul when you wake up from a nap which is freaky but ok Dilbert).

Jason- Dude is either a Calico or a garbage boy/ no official breed. I know male calicos are hard to find but when I think Jason I think Calico, or an alley cat & we have no clue what he is. He's just vibing and living la vida loca.

Tim- Russian Blue. They're known to be intuitive and intelligent, also when I see a Russian Blue cat I think of rich people? Either that or a Siamese, but Siamese usually don't have Tim's temperament.

Steph Is 100% Ginger, no specific breed, and you cannot tell me otherwise. She is wild and lighthearted, and will do things on pure impulse and spite. Ginger cats have no other objective but cause chaos and do it for the vine. Those with Ginger assholes Cats can agree with me, you love them but holy crap they cause so much damage & then look at you like they're the most innocent angel in the world (or the devil, from- the bible- but, y'know-).

Cass I think would be an Egyptian Mau. They're very active and is one of the oldest recognised cat breeds, which is cool. But they're also intelligent and loyal.

Duke I honestly have no idea, so since he's one of the newer additions to the family I've given him a new-er recognised breed called a Highlander (according to VERY LIGHT RESEARCH it was recognised in 2008). They apparently act like dogs, and are playful and energetic (Also their EARS).

Last but not least, Damian. I've decided he's an Abyssinian/ Maine Coon mix for multiple reasons. 1. If you google them, that face is definitely one Damian has pulled before. 2. They're loyal, intelligent, willful, and curious. Mx. Google here also tells me that they're 'sensible', which is an odd choice of words for a cat, but for Damian I think that makes sense. Mix that with Bruce's size when he grows up and that's gonna be funny as hell. Like damn that's a big cat how is he the youngest?

[right-agent]

really late request.... but you drew vampire fabby that one time could you draw vampire...... solary..... blinks at you with my huge eyes

YEAH!! here she is there’s another bat i think she’d be but i dont know the Name hence orange tree bat that looked kinda sad BUT besides that she would be a black mastiff bat

[canisalbus]

So i remember an ask mentioning your mortal enemy, Felis Atra and their cats, and i thought it'd be fun to draw what Felis Atra's version of your italian dogs would be.

I think they would be called Butter Knife and Flamengo! Butter Knife is not his real name, it's an nickname given by his peers because of how harmless he is. I choose Flamengo because that's the name of Vasco's rival football team here in Brazil, so i thought that was the perfect name :)

Cat Machete was slightly inspired by the Oriental Shorthair cat because of their long noses and thin head shape.

Cat Vasco was inspired by the Scottish Fold cat, because FLOPPY EARS. I gave Flamengo longer ears and orange fur to make him more like his look-alike.

The last doodle is a reference to this ask (https://canisalbus.tumblr.com/post/728923918314946560/me-i-am-machete-ear-fan-number-1-those-ears) and contains the tumblr ask stand-in dog, whose cat version was inspired by the American Curl cat! They have round ears that are slightly floppy outwards.

Final notes: I know cardinal clothes don't come in vibrant blue, but i was ADAMANT on switching Machete's and Vasco's clothing color patterns. I would draw the rest of Butter Knife's and Flamengo's clothes, but i suck at designing cool outfits.

Speaking of outfits, for Machete's iconic void outfit, i figured it would be fun to make it more baggy for Butter Knife, in contrast to Machete's, that looks very tight-fitted. I think it's cute, it kinda looks like a sweater. Also i can't imagine a Machete doppelganger without high heels boots, so those HAD to stay.

Oh, and just to be clear, i'm not like, claiming ownership of these guys or anything. I just thought it would be a fun exercise. Hope you like them!! I love your art and your characters.

.

[girl-lostconnection]

I just wanna say I love your fruit bat!reader and I just had to think about the boys further misunderstanding when reader maybe has a darker aesthetic, but reader doesn't get at all the connection cause like yeah black's just a neat colour, oh I guess vampires are cool. Wait me? *Mouthful of orange or something* me no fruits all the way? I don't know what you mean.

On one side it would be incredibly funny as misunderstanding but the devil is whispering in my ear so let’s walk the other way.

Imagine Reader freshly selected to join the team, nervous about meeting new people who they read EVERYTHING on, just to be ready.

And no one is hostile, right? They are friendly, almost too friendly, which grates on your nerves a little but you know, maybe you are thinking too much about it?

Works up until the first joke about the vampires, huge wolf operator (you find out later that his call sign is Ghost).

“Know why people don’t like workin’ with vampire bats?”, the question catches you off guard, your eyes snapping to the man’s eyes and you tilt your head to the side. You don’t know him yet, you aren’t sure how much of a reaction is allowed in this circumstance.

“‘Cause they are pain in the neck”, he announces, his brown eyes boring a hole into you, his tail wagging like he is waiting for you to start laughing.

You don’t. You stare right back at him, fingers flexing so the sharp points of your claws dig into your palm and you manage a smile that feels a little too forced.

Big wolf in front of you apparently sees it as well, because you can see the way his jaw flexes under the mask.

So for some reason he decides to give it another go. (Only months later you will find out that Simon was desperately scrambling for all the bat x vampire puns he remembered, thinking that the first one sounded a little too abrasive)

“What drink does bat order at the bar?”, he asks, his left ear giving in a small twitch that catches your eye. He sure is big for the wolf, most of their family you met in the past were tall and lean but this guy is built like a bloody tank.

“What?”, you ask, heart beating a little harder than you’d like it, anxiety coiling in your gut.

“A Bloody Mary”, wolf hums out, his ear giving in another twitch and corners of your mouth curl upwards. Cute.

Wolf’s tail starts to wag again, eyes satisfied as he walks off and you follow him to see your new space and unpack.

Isn’t so bad for the first meeting, right?

But in hindsight every interaction from then on felt…somehow forced. Recurring about blood and meat and fucking Halloween. Remarks about wearing too much black or the way Soap once chuckled at the silver chain with a beautiful red cross. Not a religious symbol but simply an accessory you liked.

It all was piling up so quickly you decided to just…stay on the outside. Maybe that would be better. Maybe they were trying to tell you that they didn’t want a bat and didn’t like bats.

That they didn’t like you.

It takes time to undo and the process is slow — you are a tough nut to crack, but they don’t try to crack you. Just…make amends, yeah?

Your relationship with Simon makes a cycle when he peels you oranges, eyes soft as you devour pieces of peaches.

“Do you know what’s a vegetarian vampire bat’s favourite fruit, luv?”, he hums out, placing a peeled orange in your bowl, something in his tone making you feel fuzzy.

“What is it?”, his tail is wagging and god the way he looks at you makes something tender in your chest ache, you mouth voluntarily falling open when he pushes a piece of peach in it, eyes crinkling.

“A neck-tarine”, Simon murmurs, his tail wagging harder when you laugh after a beat, juices from fruit dripping down your chin.

You shake your head at him in faux disbelief and he grins, popping a slice of orange in his mouth.

“Can do it all night”

You roll your eyes and instinctively smack his hand away when he tries to steal your bowl.

“That’s what I’m afraid of”

[nightingale-prompts]

How to Raise Your BatBoy

First | Previous | Next

Dick sighed into his cup of coffee. This is not what he wanted to see when he woke up in the morning. That and the giant bat wing covering his face this morning.

Danny was getting bigger. Not physically but his bat features are changing. The teen was getting better at changing shape. His ears are sharper ending in slight points, his fingers are more clawlike, and he has grown a thick ringed collar of white fur around his neck. Thankfully that's as far as his transformation can go right now. Danny has learned to pick and choose what traits he wants.

Danny has claimed Dick's gymnastic equipment as his. The aerial equipment is now used as roosts for Danny to hang off of and nap. But that hasn't stopped him from sleeping on top of Dick like an overgrown cat.

Bat wings expel a lot of heat as blood circulates through the thin skin which cools the blood in hot environments that they are native to. So to regulate their temperature they rest together to conserve heat. That's probably why Danny decided to grow the fur collar and sleep on top of Dick.

And why is Dick so frustrated? Because he's fighting for his goddamn life in this house. His cute aggression is barely contained. He wants to squish the kid's cheeks and ruffle his hair all the time.

Dick would be going over case files while Danny watches tv on the floor and Dick will feel the insatiable NEED to go bother him.

That damn fuzzy neck fur calls to him like a cat picking up a kitten.

Danny chirps! He fucking chirps! Like a baby bird!

Dick is trying so hard to be normal but if you had an adorable and clingy batboy you'd do the same.

Dick wants to tell the world about his batboy.

And he does. When he's Nightwing he will not shut up about how much he adores his sidekick. God forbid Robin is visiting, Dick will cry while taking hundreds of pictures of them together.

Damian doesn't like Batboy at all. At least that's what he says. He's just jealous that Batboy has bat wings. Damian warms up to him after they go out gliding together and get to study his wings.

It however goes downhill when they go on a misadventure and Batboy took a bite out of Scarecrow. Batboy had an immunity to fear toxins, instead, it overstimulated him. He ended up lounging at Scarecrow when he taunted Damian as the boy was paralyzed by the gas. When Damian was able to get back on his feet he found Batboy sobbing with his mouth covered in blood.

"Im sorry. I didn't. I didn't mean to-" His wings shielded him from sight.

Scarecrow was alive but the two sets of puncture wounds on his neck and the claw marks were not doing him any favors. The bite seemed to render him immobile at least for now. A symptom of a bat bite was paralysis.

Damian notified the others. Bruce and Dick got there first. Both adults were thankful they were okay but there was a disagreement.

"Nightwing you don't even know what the boy is. He could have killed Scarecrow. We don't know what he's capable of yet. He lost control." Batman stated firmly looking at the blood-stained teen that clung to Nightwing.

"He was protecting Damian. He didn't want to do that." Nightwing pulled Batboy behind him.

"It doesn't matter what he wanted to do. What will you do if he loses control and actually kills someone next time?" Bruce crossed his arms.

"All of us are capable of losing control and killing. I did it and you never came down on me like this. You are a hypocrite. You think he's a monster because he's not human." Nightwing was not going to let Batman point a finger at his son like this. He killed Joker once and he had don it out of rage and hate, not even to protect someone else.

"What I'm saying is that he isnt human. We don't don't know how he can be affected. We don't know his weaknesses. What if someone else figures out what fear toxin does to him and turns him into a weapon? Will his guilt be enough to stop him or will it destroy him? Do you want him to become like Man-Bat? Do you want to put your son in danger?" Batman didn't give in to Nightwing's taunt and stated his view firmly.

"We're leaving." Nightwing picked up the shrinking Batboy and made his escape but not before hugging Robin goodbye.

Nightwing had to move quickly. He could feel Danny getting smaller with every step.

This happened sometimes. Danny would sometimes retreat inwards when he was stressed. He changed to become as vulnerable as he felt.

When they got home Danny looked to be just 3 years old.

"Its okay baby bat. Not one is going to hurt you. I promised remember?" Dick held the chind aginst his chest.

"I'm so sorry. It's all my fault." Danny said between gasping breaths trying not to cry. His small wings wrapped around Dick's shoulders

"No, its not. You did the right thing no matter what Batman says. I'm proud of you."Dick said stroking Danny's black-streaked white locks.

(*Does a silly jig*)

[grimmweepers-archive]

— ★ 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬: afab!reader. dry humping. premature cumming. ok it’s his first time, he’s trying. reader is a tease. 0.8k words. MDNI. 18+ only.| masterlist

Virgin!Alhaitham who is known for being one of the brightest minds to come out of the Akademiya in years. A genius in his own right who can speak over 20 languages and executes everything he tries to perfection. But still has one thing that’s completely out of his realm: sex. 

He acts like it’s no big deal, shrugging off the idea of casual flings just to get his dick wet. It was beneath him, a pointless distraction from his personal goals. Instead, he turned to erotic literature, dissecting it for information like he would any other subject. It’s still educational, he reasons, a way to learn without getting tangled in something that would just waste his time. 

But then Virgin!Alhaitham starts dating you, and suddenly everything he’s learned doesn’t seem so abstract anymore. He’s thorough, methodical— he thinks he knows enough to ensure his first time with you goes off without a hitch. And yet. 

The first time you grind on his clothed cock, he was unprepared for the intensity, the friction, the heat— before he knew it he was already twitching and soiling his pants, his face flushing with embarrassment as he squeezes his eyes shut, white-knuckling your thighs at the realisation that he just came prematurely. 

“Did you just cum?” You ask with a playful lilt in your voice.

“I didn’t mean to…” he mutters, slightly mortified.

But really, who could blame him? You’re too much for him. Too beautiful. Too sharp. Too incredible with just the right amount of taunting. The way you look at him is overwhelming. Every touch leaves him on edge and every kiss is so sloppy because he wants you so badly, he can barely think straight. 

It happens again and then again after that. No matter how much he tries to keep his cool, to stay calm and focused, he can’t handle it. You make his brain fog up, his thoughts scatter, and he curses himself because all he wants to do is fuck you without cumming at just the sight of your pussy. 

However, you don’t let him off the hook that easily. After he’s ruined his boxers, you love to tug down the waistband and admire the mess he’s made, smearing his seed on your fingers and licking it clean with a grin. Just give it a minute and his cock will be hard as rock all over again. 

When he finally manages to put it in you, it’s with one big, unexpected thrust. He can’t help it— the way your walls gripped the tip sent his hip jerking forward as it moved on instinct. 

“I’m… sorry,” he breathes out, though there was no regret in the way his cock throbbed in you. 

And the worst part? You know exactly what you’re doing to him. You bat those pretty lashes at him, feigning innocence while you’re driving him wild, watching him try not to nut just from groping your tits and hearing you sigh his name with that breathy, sweet voice. 

He’s in over his head and you’ve completely flipped the script. Alhaitham has spent his whole life being the one in charge, always knowing what to do, but with you, he’s just a bundle of raw, needy energy. 

And now— he burns with a desperate need to fuck you harder, faster, to feel every inch of you clenching around him that he’s completely lost in it. You’ve made him realise how much he’s been holding back and now he’s ready to give you everything he’s got. 

So when he starts thrusting, it’s deep and unsteady, driven by hunger he’s never felt before. And poor Alhaitham, so out of his element, feels his usual self-control slipping away with each thrust. He thinks the least he can do is stay quiet, to maintain some semblance of composure. But then you whisper in his ear, telling him he can be as loud as he wants. 

And the moment those words reach him, he breaks, unable to hold back the sounds that had been clawing at his throat. He lets out strings of groans and grunts, each one rougher than the last, filling up the room with his lewd noises. 

He’s determined to keep going, to fuck you senseless but you’re so wet and tight, you’re damn near milking him. Between your occasional praise and begging him for more, he finally snaps with a guttural moan, burying himself inside you. His body trembles as he spills into you but even then, he doesn’t stop. He keeps moving, slower now, to savour every last second, despite the sensitivity.

When it's all over, he collapses on top of you, so utterly spent. All those late nights he allowed himself to indulge by jerking off at the thought of you, feeling a little guilty while trying to imagine what it would be like, was nothing compared to the real thing. 

As he lays there, panting and dazed, he tells himself that this will be a problem.

Because now he can’t do it any other way. If this is what he wanted, he was going to have to get better at it. And being the diligent person that he is, there is only one way to improve: practice. 

And who better to practice on than you?

a/n: the idea of virgin!alhaitham has me breathing into a paper bag

© 2024 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

reblogs and interactions are always appreciated ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

[prismuffin]

OMG I JUST-

Okay, can I get an ask of the batboys (Dick, Jason, Tim (separately), reacting to them thinking Male Reader called them(the bat boys) a 'good boy'?!

Like the batboys are talking about something they did today, and they hear the reader say something like , 'looks like someone's been a goodboy' while standing beside them.

BUT! But when they turn around, they see Reader talking to his pet.

-Crow

this is soo funny to me LMFAO- anyways i think that-

Dick had just gotten back from a run with you and your dog. He was making idle chatter as he refilled his water bottle in the kitchen, his back to you as you kneeled down to remove the harness from your dog. "You know we ran an extra mile today," Dick said, closing up his water bottle as you hummed, scratching behind your dogs ear. "And you did it without any breaks, good boy." Dick choked, turning around quickly to look at you, "what did you just?!-" He cut himself off, noticing you still cooing over your dog before looking at him in confusion at his sudden outburst. Noticing that you were talking to your dog he immediately felt embarrassed at himself and he started to blush a bit, clearing his throat as he looked away from you. "N-Nothing...nevermind," He was quick to leave after that, wondering why that interaction made his heart pound a bit in his chest. Jason was cooling off after a particularly rough workout and he was talking to you about it. He'd just hit a deadlift goal and was telling you about it while he made his meal prep, kind of bragging, kind of not. The last thing he expected to come out of your mouth as a response was you calling him a good boy. He paused, smirking at your teasing before turning to you slowly with an eyebrow raised only to see you petting your dog, completely ignoring him. His face fell immediately as he realized you were just talking to your dog and he just turned back around, deciding to leave you in the dark about his little mistake. Tim would be ranting to you about a new contraption he had made, he had tested it out on a recent mission and it'd worked perfectly so he was proud to be ranting about it to you. He's not sure why but he felt his heart skip a beat when he'd heard your response, "Awww Good boy! Good job buddy-" A blush broke out on his face at your words. Were you babying him? "Wh-what?!" He turned, stopping as he saw you looking at him in confusion, you were kneeling and petting your dog though you'd stopped after he'd turned to you. "Oh you were- uhh-" His eyes darted between you and your dog and you couldn't help but chuckle as you realized what just happened. "You thought I was talking to you?" You raised an eyebrow and his blush deepened. He shook his head, "No! thats not-" "Aww did you want me to call you a good boy because your little invention worked?" You teased and he turned away from you as you laughed at his embarrassment, your dog yipping in a sound that was all too similar to laughter it was practically mocking to Tim.

———

Directory

[kachowden]

Giant Boyfriend x Reader (Part2?)

•——•——•——•——•——•——•——•

You felt the sweat building on your back drip down in hot beads, as the warm air brushed against your skin. The lithe, warm, wet tongue slithered across your figure, enclosing your legs.

Your hands frantically pushed against the large muscle, but it persisted, sliding up and down the skin of your ankles and calves lecherously, a deep echoing grown brewing from the dripping, dark cavern the tongue crawled out from. The white, shiney teeth caused you to swallow thickly, and watch in morbid awe as the beasts throat mimicked you, swallowing hoarsely, another breathy pant hitting you in the face.

“Tasty…” A deep voice booms, (though in an attempted whisper and distorted by its protruding tongue) in your ear, and you flinch for a moment as the cool air hits your saliva covered thighs and legs. “Did I get it all..?”

You gaze up into thoughtful, bright eyes, that gaze at you through fluffy lashes, batting at you innocently as if the owner hadn’t just throughly violated you.

“I-It was just a bit of jam on my ankle?!” You squeaked incredulously, sweat beading down your cheek at the smug smile that spreads across the giants shiny lips, tongue darting out for one more sinful lick, as if searching for any residual taste of your skin.

“I didn’t want you to waste the time having to clean a cloth later..” He tried to convince your slightly shivering form, a “innocent” gleam in his expression that you knew was a load of crap.

“I have to take a shower now anyway!”

He pouts, looking utterly heartbroken at the notion, and you’re disturbed to think that it might be because he doesn’t want his saliva cleaned from your skin. If you were even half his size you’d have slapped him across the face by now.

“…do you really have to..?”

“Yes, you perverted giant!”

[bloodibambiidoll]

What would happen if weird!girl was there during the scene with Hollis instead of Sophia?

(This is based off two asks I got. One about weird!girl finally clapping back & one about her being there during this scene. Also thank you for being so patient with me ik it’s been a while since I posted about them !!) Jealously/possessiveness, choking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, mentions of weird!girl & another man in the past, breeding kink 18+

You know it’s absolutely irrational to be as pissed off as you are right now. But watching Hollis bat her spider leg eyelashes and pucker her years full of filler smudged red lips at your fiancé while she leans over the table with her tits pushed out is making you want to rip her head off. At the beginning of you and Rafe’s relationship you probably would’ve ran in the bathroom and cried because you didn’t feel like you were right for him. You’re not that girl anymore. Rafe has given you so much confidence and security that now you’re walking toward them with a smug smile painted on your face. Everyone on the island knows you and Rafe are engaged and if she thinks you’re going to let her walk all over you like some scared little girl she can think the fuck again.

Your platform boots click against the stone floor as you march across the outdoor seating area with a purpose. Rafe’s scotch is clutched tightly in your ringed hand and the cold condensation on the glass is a welcome cool in comparison to the fire in your veins. Your tiny black dress whooshes as you walk, the slight breeze kicking it up just enough to almost show your ass that’s covered in Gucci fishnets. You’re sick and tired of everyone walking all over you. Men scoff at you and look down on Rafe for being with you. Women constantly flirt with him in front of you like you’re not even there and you’re at your limit. You slide your way under your fiancé’s arm and tuck yourself into his side before holding his drink to him.

“Here’s your drink, baby.” You look up at him with a devilish little smirk and he sends you one of those signature Rafe Cameron smirks right back. His eyes flash from your own to your lips to your tits before he grabs the glass from your hand and places a kiss on your temple.

“Aww, who’s this?” Hollis breaks you and Rafe out of your bubble, making you snap your head toward her with a look that could kill.

“You’re joking, right?” You scoff, and push past Rafe so you can get right up in her face. You paint a condescendingly sweet smile on your lips as your eyes roam over her form. It’s obvious her days as resident cougar are numbered, the build up of Botox is starting to make her face look puffy and that lipstick looks awful with her skin tone. She even has a little bit smeared on her teeth and you can tell she’s slightly tipsy.

“Not only have I lived on this island my entire fucking life, I used to fucking take care of your dogs when you and your husband - oops I mean, ex husband used to go on your little vacations.” You cup your hand onto the side of your cheek and lean in even closer to her so you can whisper-yell in her ear. “You know, before you cheated on him so much he couldn’t take it anymore. Such a waste really, he’s such a sweet, handsome man…”

“Excuse me?” Hollis quickly leans back and scoffs, her hand flying to her chest as if you hit her. Her eyes show a flash of hurt before hardening. “You really ought to learn some respect, young lady. I don’t think you realize what kind of pull I have around here. I could ruin you.” Her lips wear a sinister smile that you assume she thinks is threatening but it just makes you laugh.

“No, I think you need to learn some respect, actually.” You return her smile, but yours is far more sinister than anything she could ever muster up because the minute that Stanley Kubrick esc grin stretches across your lips the one on her own drops and she takes a step back. But you just take a step forward, staying inches away from her face while you tilt your head to the side. “Everyone on this goddamn island already can’t stand me. And they all know Rafe Cameron is mine. But only you and I know that Mr. Robison sought comfort in a young, tight, pussy when you first started stepping out on him.”

“You really are and always have been such a vile little girl.” She sneers down at you and you know you hit the exact nerve you were aiming for. “Jealousy really isn’t a cute look, by the way, dear.”

“It’s not jealousy. It’s possession.” Hollis has gradually been taking steps back from you as the conversation has gone on but you close the distance between the two of you so you can lean up and whisper directly in your ear. “Now get the fuck away from my man before I choke you so hard your eyes pop out of your skull.”

“Ugh! You are a psychotic little bitch!” Hollis stomps her red bottom heeled foot onto the ground with a low growl before turning and stomping off.

“Whose acting like a little girl now!” You yell after her with a laugh and it earns you a glare over her shoulder that you return with laughter. You’re still practically cracking up when you turn to face Rafe who is staring down at you like a deer caught in the headlights. “You good baby? Thought you’d be proud of me.” You pout and your boyfriend's expression hardens as he grabs your wrist and pulls your body flush against his own.

“Oh, bats. I’m proud of you for standing on business, but…” Rafe's large hand grabs onto the back of your neck as leans down so he can practically growl into your ear. “You have some serious fuckin’ explaining to do. Mr. Robinson, huh? You fuck him?”

“And if I did? That was literally years ago before you ever thought twice about me, I think you’ll live.” Your voice holds a hint of defiance that you know for a fact is going to get your ass handed to you very shortly but if you’re being honest, that’s exactly what you want. It’s been a minute since you got Rafe riled up enough to fuck you until you can’t walk.

“You are so fucked. Car. Now. Start walking.”

-

“Tell me whose fuckin’ pussy this is.” Rafe has you bent over the arm of your expensive leather couch while his cock pounds deep into your dripping walls and his large palm shoves your face into the cushion below you. He ripped your dress over your head and tore your brand new gucci tights open at the crotch the minute he got you through the door. Your ass is beat red and decorated with welts the shape of his designer belt, your drool is dripping down your chin and your vision is blurry from your mascara running down your eyes. He fucking loves you like this.

“It’s yours! My whole body belongs to you, daddy!” The attitude you had earlier on in the night is starting to slip and you’re getting to the point that all you want is to come on Rafe’s cock as many times as he will allow you to. And so far? He’s been edging you for the last forty minutes.

“Yeah, that’s fuckin’ right. You’re my little whore.” Rafe’s fingers lace through your hair, his nails scratching your scalp as he gathers the strands between his digits and pulls them tight so he can yank your head back. He uses his grip for leverage as he continues to pound into you relentlessly. “Don’t wanna think about any other man touching you. Especially not some old fuck. As far as I’m fuckin’ concerned you were a virgin when we met.”

“Well, I wasn’t even close… Does that make you mad, daddy?” You let out a borderline evil chuckle as you let your tongue lull from your mouth while you look over your shoulder at him. His blue eyes are practically black from how dilated his pupils are, his nostrils are flared, and his lips are set into a snarl. You can’t help it that you love him like this. “Does it just drive you crazy that you’re not the only dick that’s been in this tight little pussy?”

“Shut your bratty little mouth, did I not beat that ass hard enough yet, huh? Do I need to pull out and make you watch me jerk off while I nut all over your dumb little face and leave you with nothing but a mess to clean up?” Rafe’s nails dig deeper into your scalp when his grip on your hair tightens. He pulls your back flush against his chest while his hips plow into yours, his thick cock stretching you out over and over with each thrust.

“What about you, huh?” You lace your arm around Rafe’s neck so you can drag your pointed nails down his skin. “Resident man slut? This all started because you were letting that dumb old bag fawn all over you with her tits in your face.”

Rafe pulls out of you and uses your hips to flip you onto your back. Your legs are dangling over the arm of the couch and your top half is bent flat against the cushion, propping your hips up so your pussy is on display to him. He lands a smack on your sopping wet cunt that verberates through the room and you barely have time to process before he’s dealing you with another one. His broad frame looms over you when he leans down to grip onto your throat and pin you to the plush leather.

“I was just appeasing her cause’ she was offering me a way I could make us more money.” He hits your pussy again before landing harsh smacks on your clit in succession. Rafe’s palm cups your cunt and he uses the heel of it to rub your clit roughly while he squeezes your throat so tight you see stars. He toys with your entrance with his thick fingers and then spreads your juices on his shaft. He pumps himself a few times before slamming back inside of you in one thrust. “You really think I’d ever trade this perfect fuckin’ cunt for anything in the world? You think you can go around talking about fucking men old enough to be your dad in front of me and not expect me to mark my territory? I’m gonna cover you in my fuckin’ cum.”

“Sounds like somebody is jealous.” You lick your lips and smile widely up at him while the hand on your throat makes your vision go fuzzy. The sound that leaves Rafe is near animalistic, he grips onto your thigh with his free hand and pins it to the arm of the couch. It spreads you wide and gives him the perfect view of his thick cock covered in your creamy juices as it slams inside you over and over again.

“It’s not jealousy, it’s possession.” Rafe mocks your words from earlier, his hand nearly cutting off your air supply before letting go and grabbing onto the back of your hair. He uses his grip to yank you up off the cushion and force your head down until you can see where you’re connected. His thrusts never falter as he manhandles you like a ragdoll.

“You see that shit? See your greedy little pussy swallowing my dick like it was made for her? Tell daddy again who owns that shit. Drop the attitude and tell me you’re my fuckin’ whore if you wanna come.”

“I’m your whore! Please let me come!” You whine as you writhe beneath him, your final resolve leaving you when he grabs onto both your wrists, suspending your back off the couch as he uses his grip on you to pull you back to meet his rapid thrusts.

“Yeah, that’s right, you’re my perfect little fuck doll. Mine to use, as I please, when I please.” You wrap your legs around his hips to pull him impossibly deeper and it has him growling and twitching inside you. “You gonna be a good girl and take my fuckin’ cum? Let me put a baby in you so all these bitches really know who you belong to?”

“Yes, fuck! Please give me your cum, wanna make you a daddy!” Rafe lets your body fall back down onto the couch so he can lean over you with his hands on either side of your head as he pumps his hips deep and hard into you. The angle has him hitting deeper than ever and each glide of his hips has his skin rubbing against your throbbing clit.

“Come on my cock, milk that shit, baby.” It’s like your body is programmed to listen to his words because that’s all it takes to have your walls pulsing around him as you gush around his thick shaft. You lean up and bite his chest before sucking hard on his skin, marking your territory. A few more rough thrusts of his hips and Rafe is coming right along with you. “Such a good girl, such a perfect, tight, pussy. Gonna give you a fuckin’ baby.” He babbles as his cock twitches inside of you and fills you with ropes of his cum. When he comes down from his high his body slumps against yours, his huge frame pining you awkwardly to the couch.

“Fuck.” You giggle as you wrap your arms around his neck and run your nails along his buzzed head. “That was so hot. But, you’re crushing me with your giant fucking body.”

“Yeah? I think you deserve it. I don’t think that was punishment enough for fucking Mr. Robinson before we ever got together.” Rafe groans dramatically as he lets more of his weight crush you.

“Well. I think you’ll be delighted to know that I never fucked him.” You say it in a sing-song tone that has Rafe’s head shooting up and his blue eyes locking with yours. “We just sexted. She found the pics on his phone and lost her shit.”

“Oh! You are such a little shit!” He pushes himself up off the couch and points down at you in mock accusation. “You let me think you fucked him so I would beat your lil’ ass, didn’t you?” Rafe chuckles and your hand flies to your chest while you look up at him with your mouth agape.

“What?!” You gasp. “I would never push your buttons for sexual gain. That would be insane.”

“You are such a fuckin’ brat, ya know that?” Rafe smiles as he pulls you off the couch and against his chest. “I ought to bend you over again, over my knee this time.”

“What was all that about giving me a baby?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him and he glares down at you. “Was that just horny talk or does somebody have baby fever?”

“You know what?” He grabs you and tosses you over his shoulder despite your protests. “I’m gonna spank you till you cry and then fuck you full of my cum until you’re begging me to put a baby in you.”

Tagging mooties & weird!girl lovers: @babygorewhore @cxrrodedcoffin @starkeysprincess @nemesyaaa @oceandriveab @munson-mjstan @cameronsprincess @rafeinterlude @sturnioloshacker @traceymbcm

Divider by @anitalenia

All things Rafe & his weird!girl here

[yuri-is-online]

I'm curious about the first years' reaction to why can't I be your spouse.

I think it'd be hilarious

part one/part 2

A ha yes, hilarious. I am so sorry.

"Why couldn't I be your spouse?"

Ace is struck mute. The blush starts at the tips of his ears, spreads across his face, and down across his neck. Because you don't want him. That's the reason right? He's your best friend. You're his. That's your dynamic. It keeps you both safe from any complications or unnecessary feelings but god if you're just going to look up at him and bat your eyes trying to hold back tears at the thought of not being his? "Jeez, we're still in school you know? Ask again later." You won't get a chance to do that, Ace wants to be the one to ask. You deserve that much from him with how much he teases you, or so he says.

There are two ways I can see this question going with Deuce. He's oblivious to the nature of his own feelings: "Because you are meant to get married to someone you love?" He's overwhelmed with distress when you start to cry at his words, but he doesn't understand the source of the pain. Love is a heavy word, and sure he does love you, your best buds! But marriage is extremely serious and sure he's had dreams about you guys living together and stuff like that but he's sure that's just a friendship thing. Not that he ever dreams about doing that with Ace...

If he does know he's in love with you that little question will make Deuce start panicking because of how expensive weddings are. He will be very happy for you to be his spouse, just give him some time please <3

"Because you're not staying." Jack has accepted you are the one he's been waiting for, but he's never verbalized it until now. He's a bit disappointed if he's honest, not with who you are but with the circumstances under which you've met. He modeled his dreams of what his spouse would be like off of his parents and grandparents, he would love you and you would love him. You would be together forever and build a little life together. But you are from a different world and will have to go home some day, he doesn't get to keep you and he doesn't have the option of getting over you. His only option is to deny that he wants you as his spouse until his soul prevents him from doing it anymore, no matter how happy hearing you ask to be his make him feel.

Epel is happy to hear you say that, but it's a bittersweet happiness. Epel wants you to be saying that because you think he's cool. Because you think of him as a manly man who you can rely on to provide for you and keep you safe from all of the monsters you've faced so far. But he knows you pretty well at this point, he doesn't think that you rely on him because you think he's cool. Maybe that's a goods thing though, you've never been judgemental of who he is even if the words you use to describe him aren't the exact ones he wants just yet. That doesn't mean "spouse" isn't how he wants to describe you, and he's not shy of letting you know that. Just this once.

Sebek doesn't answer at first. He doesn't yell either, nor does there appear to be a gathering storm on his face. He looks despondent, not the look you would want on the face of someone when you start talking about getting married. "Because I have treated you in a truly abominable manner most unfitting of my rank based on a prejudiced view of your character." Anyone who looks at him can see that he's in love, that he has no objection to you being his spouse. But he can't have that, he's unworthy. Not that you wants you to take this personally, he is used to being inadequate. Just let him savor the happiness he felt from hearing you say you wanted to be his in the first place. It is more than he deserves for how cruel he has been to you.

[sanguineterrain]

for the dc prompts you reblogged:

can i request jason todd x reader "someone likes being pinned down" + A flirting with B while sparring to throw them off their tracks

where reader is also a vigilante??

thank you so much 🩷

very sexy prompts thank u 😌

jason todd x gn!reader. r and robin!jay were friends, r doesn't know jason is alive/red hood but jason knows r is a vigilante. r's alias is 'nocturne' (if that's already in use oh well lmao). fighting/sparring, jason is mega in love with you as usual!!

all fics at @sanguinelibrary

****

"Still blindly following the Bat, huh?"

You land in a crouch on the rooftop, just like how Nightwing taught you. The Red Hood doesn't look at you, digging through two duffel bags. He doesn't even draw his gun, like you've seen him do with virtually every other vigilante in Gotham.

You wait, ready to spring into action. But Hood doesn't stop what he's doing. Slowly, you rise.

"What... do you mean?" you ask.

"I mean, why are you traipsing around Gotham as a bat-adjacent? Who are you s'posed to be anyway? Goth Bat? Alternative Scene Bat?"

"I'm Nocturne," you say, shoulders rising to your ears. Rude. You thought the chunky boots and star over your suit's eye mask were inspired.

Red Hood lifts a hand. "Don't get me wrong, I dig the threads. I'm just surprised B didn't have an aneurysm over the sequins. Then again, Discowing did do it first..."

Your first two meetings with the infamous Red Hood have been similar in that he's never very concerned about you stopping him (ouch), but he also isn't callous or cruel with you like he is with the other vigilantes.

Case in point: the last person who cornered Hood on a roof was Red Robin. Hood shot him in the shoulder before he could land.

In short, he's perplexing as hell.

Batman's forbidden the rest of the team to confront Hood without backup. And you're technically not supposed to be on patrol tonight. But if you can intercept Hood, that'll be a huge win.

Hood keeps on packing the duffels. You hesitate, then step forward.

"Get away from the bags," you say. "I won't ask twice."

Hood looks at you. "Nocturne's a pretty cool name, I'll admit. And I like the boots. But I still think you oughta call it quits."

He zips up the bags, stands, and kicks them to the corner of the roof.

"Because you're just that unstoppable?" you ask, hands curling into fists.

"Yeah. But mostly 'cause I know you're made for so much more than this, sweetheart."

And that is the third and perhaps most bewildering thing about your encounters with Red Hood: you've gotten the creeping feeling that he... likes you.

Which is ridiculous, and if you ever breathed a word of that to anybody, Batman would probably check you into Arkham.

You take another careful step forward. Hood leans against the railing and folds his arms.

"This the part where you apprehend and hogtie me for innocently packing a duffel bag?" he asks.

You glare. "Innocent? I know you're making a weapons delivery because I know you've been waiting for Batman to be off-planet to make it."

"Clever. Told ya you're too good for this," Hood says. "Should be in college with those smarts, not playing maid for Batman."

"Are you lecturing me?"

"I'm advising you as your friendly neighborhood drug lord. Lecturing makes me sound like a guy who's got too much money and too big of a savior complex to understand that the way he fights injustice is fundamentally flawed."

"Sounds personal."

Hood laughs. "Honey, you have no idea."

You strike.

Hood parries your first attack easily, which you expect. The truth is that whoever trained Hood cut no corners and you're still relatively new at vigilantism. It's only by the grace of God that Hood hasn't left you to bleed out on a roof.

You kick his shin, but Hood turns on the instep and blocks. You go for his shoulder, where his armor separates to give him more movement. But Hood's ready for that too, and he catches your arm.

"Gotta keep that right arm up," he says. "Surprised no one's trained that outta you yet."

You elbow Hood in the throat. He coughs and lets go.

"Like that?" you ask, muscles tense with adrenaline.

Hood makes a sound that might be a laugh, still choked from your hit. "Just like that, honeylove. Good job."

"I don't need feedback," you snap, immediately going back in for another hit.

"Sorry. I'll make this quick then. I do have a delivery."

On the next strike, you advance, using a technique Nightwing drilled into your head for bigger opponents. Hood goes down and you land atop him.

"Oh, that's a Nightwing takedown if I've ever seen one," Hood says beneath you.

You're close enough that you can hear his breathing through the decoder. Pride swells in you at taking him down. Not even Batman has managed such a thing.

Hood is warm and big. His shoulder span alone dwarfs you. When you'd seen him from afar, fighting Batman or Nightwing, you'd been terrified.

But now, perhaps stupidly, you feel comfortable. Annoyed, but safe. Something about him reminds you of home. Makes your stomach flip in a good way.

Which is terrifying.

"You're coming with me," you say, reaching for your cuffs.

"If only. Unfortunately, you've forgotten a teensy weensy detail, dearest."

Hood bucks you off, legs first. Your feet fly into the air, which allows him to flip your positions. You wince, preparing for a concussion upon impact as you go down. But Hood cushions your fall and neatly rolls you over. Your back is pressed into the concrete, hands locked over your head. Hood's weight holds down your hips and legs.

He looms over you, easily holding you down. Your face grows hot.

"How did—" You squirm in his grip. "I had you!"

"Weight distribution, sweets. Tell Al—one of the Bats to add weight to your boots. They keep you light on your feet, but you were depending on them too much to hold me down, and we ain't evenly matched there."

You thrash in his grip. "Hood, I swear to fucking—"

"Easy. Don't sweat it, sweetheart. You haven't been doing this for very long. That was a good takedown, regardless. I'm impressed."

"Screw you."

He hums. You can tell he's smiling under the helmet. "Sorry, I forgot. You don't like feedback."

Hood strokes the inside of your wrist. You aren't sure he's aware he's doing it. His grip is firm but light. He's not trying to hurt you. Your pulse is in your throat.

For a moment, you're both still. Hood seems caught in a trance, like even Superman couldn't tear him away from this moment. From you. And it's not that you're afraid, you're just... you're...

"How do you know so much about me?" you blurt, because it's puzzled the whole team. "You been spying on me?"

"'Course not. Unlike your boss, I respect privacy. No, I did research. I recognized you from when you'd hang around that second Robin. Shrimpy little guy. What'd ya even see in him?"

The grief overtakes you before you can control your mouth.

"You don't know anything about me or him," you spit. "Don't fucking talk about him. He had more skill and goodness in his pinkie than you'll have in a lifetime. And you could learn a thing from him about changing a city. He'd tell you that fear alone never works."

Hood is quiet for a long moment. Then he speaks.

"Where's your distress signal?"

"Why would I tell—"

Hood shifts over you, cutting off your reply. He pulls a ziptie around your wrists. They're not even a little tight. You could probably slip out of them if you had five minutes.

"I know you're not s'posed to be out tonight," he whispers in your ear. "'S not your patrol night. Good thing you're my favorite."

You nearly swallow your tongue. "How do you—I don't—"

"Uh-huh. So you be good from now on, yeah? Wouldn't wanna have to keep tying you up like this."

You lift your chin. "We'll switch positions soon enough."

Hood snorts. "Okay, I know you heard how that soun—"

"I heard it," you say grumpily. "Just get on with it. Jerk."

"As you wish. Distress signal?"

"Collar."

Hood presses the button under your collar. Your breath hitches as his gloved fingers graze your neck.

"Oh? Does somebody like getting pinned down?"

"In your dreams."

Hood laughs. He zipties your ankles last, then sits you upright against the railing.

"Not too tight, are they?" he asks. "I know you've got a circulation problem."

You squint. "You seem to know a lot about me. Not fair that I don't know much about you, Hood."

"'S just business, honeylove," he says, scooping up his duffel. "Now I don't wanna see you in a suit anymore, comprende?"

"Or you'll what? Shoot me?"

Hood pauses, eerily still. He turns those glowing white eyes upon you. Your heart picks up.

"No," he says, so serious it startles you. "But someone else might. And I don't want you to face the same fate as your good friend Robin."

He vaults over the railing before you can respond. Your head thunks lightly as you lean back and wonder if you're really just business to the Red Hood.

(pt 2)

[balteredsworld]

cha cha chase, gregory house

🥼🩺 | house finds out you're a dancer.

masterlist: greg house n all

tags! house being house, fluff of sorts? house x reader def

"aww that's cute," house tilted his head in amusement, eyes twinkling with signature mischief. you were going to hate this. in fact, you were already dreading it. "we can all give foreman a lap dance."

you rolled your eyes, prepping your dearest ex-friend's arm for a transfusion. "did you have to say all that?"

"what? people should know you were a dancer, especially with a boss like that," she sweetly and very innocently shrugged, before looking at house with pride. "she's got killer mo—"

"—alright!" you jammed the needle roughly, shutting her up. "you'll fall asleep in right about... now."

she dozed off, but not before catching you with a triumphant frown about your lips. oh you were pissed, at least she didn't need to deal with it until after the treatment.

you would've cooled down by then. but you were also in trouble. why? because of that stupid grin house had on his stupid face.

"so you used to dance."

"and you used to walk."

"ouch. low blow!"

"i can blow even lower."

you cringed. the words left your mouth sooner than you could think.

"you definitely have the knees for it," house chuckled, practically looking up into heaven with an extremely exaggerated grateful look.

"shut up. and don't ask."

his brows shot up, face contorting a theatrical face of an innocent. "how could you assume the worst in me!"

"my bad," you deadpanned. "i think it's just your track record with insanely inappropriate jokes."

you slipped swiftly out of the room, keen to get house off of your hair. but for a cripple, he was insanely fast. this man could do more than he let out, but that was only to make people like yourself, his victim-of-the-day fellow, miserable.

house was a smart man, but his aptitude was used for the worst. nothing was a viable escape, he was going to hold this over you until the day you die.

"i ask first," he snarked, making a gesture with his finger. "uhm, i have something inappropriate to say. can i say it?"

you glared at him over your shoulder. he was hot on your trail. if only you could get to the flight of stairs quicker.

he blinked all cutesy, innocently batting his lashes as you two turned the corner. "were you a stripper?"

you threw your head back, eyes rolling back to the point it felt like someone was gauging them out. house looked excited at the prospect. even if you weren't, close enough.

finally, you turn to him with an unimpressed purse about your lips and an angry furrow to your brows. house towered over you, all but amused at your well invited and justified anger. he thought it was cute.

"so?" he cocked a brow, still twinkling in mischief.

"answer's no," you half-calmly answered, titling your head, formulating a wicked idea.

you grabbed house's wrinkled collar, standing on your tip toes, snaking your hand on his shoulders.

"but i am a dancer," you whispered, mustering a sickeningly sweet voice. you trailed your fingers along his neck, letting your breath fan his ear as you crooned your head slightly, just as how you would with your dance partner.

some part of you had a daring inkling to knock his cane over, still unnerved over his shenanigans that last christmas he duped you into getting him a pricey gift.

fortunately for house, you weren't him.

but you maintained your hold on him, before letting out a hum at the same time you descended back to the soles of your foot. an innocent smile creeping on your lips, lashes batting the same way he'd done seconds ago.

"that's right, dancer..." house trailed, with a gaping mouth, still in a childish drawl.

"doctor, actually. the id says m.d., but thanks," you remarked nonchalantly, whipping away in a spin to dash into your escape. "you hired me remember?"

"because you had nice legs!" house shouted in a last ditch effort to win, seemingly paralyzed on the spot. "and even nicer knees!"

you had outrun him for now, although you knew it wasn't long before he revived into an ever meaner bloom. and you were right to dread it, because hours later, house was sitting with a triumphant smirk about his face. he somehow found a video of you dancing embarrassingly online, no doubt with the help of lucas, and forwarded it to any and all.

that only strengthened your resolve for revenge. house was fucked, but he welcomed your challenge.

who knows? maybe he could just get a lap dance out of it.

[teamatsumu]

exclusive. (gojo satoru x reader)

summary: A series of moments with Gojo Satoru, leading to the moment you realize you’re in love with him.

word count: 2,223

warnings: swearing, fem!reader, friends to lovers (?), jujutsu high shenanigans, this is pretty harmless fluff

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi

Anyone who met Gojo Satoru for the first time had a visceral reaction to him.

Either they found him loud, obnoxious and annoying (both Shoko and Suguru described that as their first impressions of him), or they were starstruck by him. After all, he was Gojo Satoru. The wielder of the most powerful cursed technique in the Jujutsu world at present. The brilliant Six Eyes. And even at such a young age he showed potential that made the higher ups nervous.

And he was easy on the eyes too. Tall, lean, porcelain pale skin, hair like snow and eyes brighter than the blue skies. It was in the way he carried himself, shoulders set back, chin held high, imposing and demanding that all eyes met him. Girls were endlessly obsessed with him, with the idea of him. And he ate that shit up.

You however, would argue that you didn’t have any impression of him at all. He was just there. Okay, that was Gojo Satoru. Cool. Time to just shrug and walk away. He wasn’t exactly someone you had to interact with daily. He was a year older, in a different class. He had friends of his own. And he was quite literally famous. Why would he bother with you?

What you didn’t know about Gojo Satoru was that he didn’t need any reason to be obnoxious. He just was. Seeing someone indifferent to his existence lit a fire in him, and he was adamant on making sure you noticed him. One way or the other.

“So it doesn’t matter to you if I’m cursing you out? As long as I’m paying attention to you?”

You eyed him, watching as he leaned back on the two back legs of the chair he was sitting in until it teetered dangerously. The action kind of put you on edge but you would be damned if you let him know that it bothered you. Mostly because if he knew then he would never stop doing it.

He snapped his fingers and grinned in the affirmative.

“All press is good press.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “What does that even mean?”

“I don’t know, it sounds cool.”

You rolled your eyes and turned back to your textbook. A bout of silence fell on you for a few brief moments, before Satoru felt the urge to ruin it again.

“You’re not gonna fail.”

You didn’t look up. “Thanks?”

“So stop studying.”

You sighed, still not looking at him. You flipped a page. A hand grabbed at your open book, shutting it with a soft thud. You finally turned to glare at the boy. Over the curve of his shades, his eyes were as blue as ever. He grinned wide.

“There she is. Hey, pretty girl.”

Another thing about him, he flirted endlessly.

Your scowl deepened, trying to will away the heat that rushed to your ears. It was annoying, almost frustrating, how easy he thought it was to get under your skin. Saying shit like this as if it didn’t mean anything. Casual. Unserious.

Your train of thought broke when he reached forward and pinched your cheek hard. You yelped and pushed him hand away, wrestling against his strength when he tried to twist closer to you. By the time Suguru and Kento walked into the classroom, he had you pinned on the desk and was messing your hair up the best he could while you called him every colorful name you could think of.

Suguru didn’t bat an eye. Kento just sighed. This was, unfortunately, normal.

You, of course, didn’t fail your exam. Surprisingly, neither did Satoru, even though you had not seen him open a book once. Practical application was one thing (Satoru excelled in that of course), but how did he manage to get the theory right? He had spent every minute of his prep days either bothering you in person, sending you endless text messages, or lounging around in your room and watching TV. The fact that he passed and was now a third year was more surprising to you than the fact that you passed. At least you studied for it.

“You just wanted me to fail so I would be held back for the year and we could be classmates.” Satoru grinned, peeling open a packet of those overly sweet jellies he loved eating. You snorted, turning over in your bed and pulling your sheets up higher. It was nearly 10 in the morning, and Satoru had woken you up with the news that results were out and both of you had passed. Your body was still sluggish, eyelids heavy with exhaustion and residual sleep.

“Is that your breakfast?” You watched him lean back and shake the entire bag of jellies straight into his mouth from above. Your face twisted in disgust.

“Yup. Gotta start the day right.”

You didn’t bother to argue, shoving your face into the pillow and hoping it would suffocate you to death. You heard shuffling and then felt the mattress dip, grunting when you felt something heavy fall over your back.

“So what do you wanna do today?”

You let out a pained sigh, not bothering to turn and look at him, or his legs that were likely draped over you.

“I was planning to sleep in but I guess I can’t do that anymore.” Your tone was dry.

“Damn right. Let's go to the city.”

“Can’t you go bother Getou-san?”

“He isn’t as fun.”

You turned your head to look at him, just in time to see him pull apart a chocolate bar. Your eyes widened in horror.

“No!” You shoved him hard and he toppled off the bed with a loud ‘oof’, until all you could see was his legs hanging in the air.

“What the fuck?” His tone was more baffled than it was pained. You saw his messy head of hair pop up over the edge of the bed, his eyes wide, glasses nowhere to be seen.

“You’ll get chocolate on my sheets!”

“So you pushed me off?” Before he could pull himself back up, you rushed forward, trying to keep him down, slipping off the edge and falling right on top of him. You grabbed the hand with the chocolate, prying it from his fingers. You placed it carefully on your side table, finally sighing and leaning back, looking down at the boy before you. Or more accurately, under you.

Satoru was wearing a huge, toothy grin on his face, wiggling his eyebrows. He seemed to have completely forgotten his chocolate. His hands rested on your bare thighs, fingers just shy of the hem of your shorts.

“You know what, you can keep the chocolate. I’m fine right here.”

You glared at him, standing up to walk away, but not before you dug a foot into his stomach. Satoru groaned, but still grinned, grabbing your ankle.

“You should just let things happen, baby. We’d be great together, you know?”

You didn’t let his words get to you, nor did you let your mind dwell on how soft his fingers felt around your ankle, or how his hands had felt on the bare skin of your thighs. You couldn’t think about it, because nothing Satoru did was real. He was just playing. He was a good friend who tried annoying you as much as possible. That’s it.

It didn’t matter that he whined your name whenever you ignored him, or how he would wrap his arms around you until you were curled under him, or how he would pin your arms down so you wouldn’t struggle when he laid sloppy, obnoxious kisses on your cheeks and forehead. Your couch was his permanent bed, and he claimed he was there because your TV was bigger than his. You couldn’t understand why he couldn’t just buy a TV for his room. He was loaded.

You don’t know at what point everyone started assuming you were dating, but when Shoko vocalized this perception, you felt like a bucket of ice cold water had been dumped on you.

“We are not dating. What the fuck? I can barely stand him.”

You ignored the petulant ‘hey’ that left his lips, focused on your upperclassman across the table from you. Shoko was blank-faced, giving you a look that said ‘really?’. You didn’t back down.

“We aren’t! We’re good friends, yes, but-”

A snort from beside you, and finally you turned your head to glare at him. Satoru’s lips were twisted into an amused smirk, and the sight of it annoyed you. You felt like everyone at the table- Shoko, Suguru, Kento, Haibara- were laughing at you. Your face burned in embarrassment, so you lashed out at the one man who always bore the brunt of it.

“Why are you smirking? Wipe that off your face.”

He shrugged, ignoring what you said. “I just think it’s funny that you think we aren’t dating.”

“We’re not.”

“Sure.”

You let out an exasperated sigh. “We’re not! What the fuck are you on? We’ve never even kissed!”

Just talking about this was making you squirm uncomfortably, let alone in front of all your friends.

“You were practically in my lap in the car on our way here.”

You smacked his bicep hard. “There were six of us! And it was a tight fit! And- you offered!”

He was grinning by now, leaning closer to you. “Of course I did. We’re dating.”

You blinked, shocked into silence. A few moments passed. “This is gaslighting. You’re gaslighting me.”

You heard a snort and turned your head towards Haibara, who tried to disguise it as a cough.

“Okay, if we’re not dating, explain this to me,” Satoru began, pulling your attention back to him. You tried to will your heart into beating slower.

“Would you have put your legs in Suguru’s lap?”

You sputtered, feeling your face burn as you glanced at the man in question, he looked unbothered.

“No! That’s- no.”

“Nanami? Haibara?”

You didn’t answer.

“Shoko?”

“She’s my senpai.”

“I’m your senpai too.”

You rolled your eyes. “You sure don’t act like it.”

“So what you’re saying is,” Satoru continued, ignoring your quip. His voice was jovial, slightly teasing, and you dreaded where he was going with this. “There’s some stuff you would do only with me?”

You glared at him.

“Almost like…… being exclusive?”

“We are not dating.” Your argument was beginning to sound weaker and weaker. Everyone around you was staring at you with amusement as the gears turned at your head.

“Okay.” Satoru smiled, and you almost reeled back at how soft it was.

“We’re not.”

Oh my god.

……………………..

It took three or four days later to finally get your thoughts straight enough to talk to Satoru about the….. dating incident.

You had been over analyzing everything, trying to look at every interaction between you and him from a third person’s perspective, and you realized how abnormal it really was. No normal friends interacted the way you and Satoru did. Relentless teasing, touching, hugging. The unending push and tug. Caught in the whirlwind that was Gojo Satoru, you had not noticed how close you were to him, and how dependent you were on his presence.

Maybe he was right. In some strange way, you two were a couple.

You sat with this newfound information, feeling it burn and chip away at your skin, leaving you raw and vulnerable. How were you supposed to bring this up with him? You watched the figures on the TV before you bound around, not absorbing anything that was being said, your attention only on the slowly simmering pot of water that was your brain and your thoughts. When your door swung open with a loud squeak, you finally looked up.

Satoru was humming something to himself as he lumbered in, spotting you on the couch and grinning.

“Hey, what are your dinner plans? I'm craving Korean barbecue.”

You stared at him for a bit, as he toed his shoes off and tried to struggle out of his uniform jacket. It settled in you like a soft cloud, the knowledge that there was nothing to talk about. Your heart skipped a beat, and you stood up.

“I’m going to change.” Your voice was low.

Satoru looked up, lips pursed into a confused pout that you almost thought was cute. “Why? You look great.”

You muscled past the compliment, not letting it get to you. “I’m going to put on a nice outfit. And do my hair. And you’re going to go change too. Dress fancy. It’s a date.”

Satoru watched you, mouth open like a goldfish, as you puttered through the room and to your closet. He was frozen, dumbfounded. It was a new look on him. And you discovered that you liked it very much. You feigned innocence as you turned to look back at him.

“What’s wrong? I thought we were dating?”

That seemed to break his trance, and a cheshire grin took over his face. He didn’t even bother putting his shoes back on, gathering them in his hands and bounding out the door, making you laugh at how eager he was.

Talking was overrated anyway. This way was more fun.

[kaidatheghostdragon]

You know what mixture of AUs i havent seen here yet? Danny x Bruce with de-aged clones!

Bruce and danny are near the same age and meet pretty early in batman's career, maybe even before dick was adopted. Danny is a single dad of infant/toddler twins ellie and dante. (To make them young and at the same age, i imagine they were rescued after both taking serious damage and retreated to their cores, and remerged as newborns about the same time, but i also want to leave this open for others to flesh out.) Timeline-wise, that would probably make them somewhere around jason or tim's age.

So now we have an au where the bat kids are collected into a stable home where bruce and danny are also raising ellie and dante. Bruce is much closer to WFA characterization right from the get-go because danny would whip him into shape.

Tim probably gets adopted because one of the phantoms sniff him out, either living alone in the neighboring mansion, or following the bats and ghosts on patrol.

Talia either stole bruce's (and/or danny's) dna or drugged bruce (it didnt work on danny) to create damian. If bruce was drugged, danny is on a warpath and might even find and rescue damian at a much younger age.

Jason's timeline is the most difficult to predict, and i will forever simp halfa jason, so he's gotta die no matter what changes. I dont think that's terribly difficult because the joker specifically targeted him to lure him out (assuming i understand canon correctly - also this is definitely true in the UtRH animated movie canon). If jason isnt interested in finding his biomom in this au, joker will just find a different bait. Would be cool if danny is able to track down jason's ghost during the six-month down time and brings him home, and a potential point of angst if he revives without his memories as a ghost (and is lost for a while before danny tracks him down again.)

(Danny probably doesn't have the no-killing rule like bruce, so he'd have no qualms killing the joker and detaining/destroying his ghost. If not danny, then jazz would. Bruce conveniently looks the other way.)

Batman mythology in this universe is inexorably linked to phantom mythology. They both help each other out with vigilante stuff. Danny's team (sam/tucker/val/jazz) visit often and are considered aunts/uncle to the batkids. Batfam is highly liminal because they are part of danny's fraid. They might even develop liminal powers, if that's your kind of headcanon.

Danny may or may not be ghost king, but i like the idea that he's the crown prince and wont be coronated for several more decades. He's got time and all the resources that position affords him. Danny still gets hounded by the observants, but the batkids have made a game of pranking the annoying eyeballs.

Danny is a founding member of the justice league and of jld (the rest of his team might be as well). Batman is much more knowledgeable of the supernatural because of danny. I like the idea of constantine being more terrified of phantom than batman. He still gets called on for advice because he's the demonology and magic expert, while danny specializes more in ghosts and Realms technology.

Ellie and dante are not allowed to join the vigilante scene until they turn 12 (they managed to argue it down from 14), but because of their powers (and potentially retaining memories and experience) there are numerous occasions before then that they functioned as a sort of vigilante retrevial unit - zooming out and retrieving anyone who was injured or otherwise hit their emergency beacon and bringing them straight back to the cave. They might have even done this once or twice during justice league emergencies.

I'll leave their vigilante identities open to discussion, but im partial toward a really old drawing i remember seeing here on tumblr, someone designed a pink batsuit for ellie with exaggerated bat ears, and a sort of glider cloak that attached to her belt or her wrists to disguise her flight as gliding. (If someone knows the post im talking about, please leave a link so the artist can be credited!)

As for danny's old team...

Jazz works at arkham, helping to reform the place and causing many of batman's rogues to reform a bit earlier. She is the expert called in by the justice league to formulate ways to both detain and to help various rogues globally. She especially likes the flash because of the friendly attitude he has towards his own rogues.

Sam is a humanitarian. If she has plant powers, she's using them to establish food stability in poorer nations, helping the people there become more self-sustaining, as well as providing relief for disaster-stricken areas whose farms need to be completely rebuilt and regrown. Jazz introduces her to poison ivy, and the two end up joined at the hip, helping to reform ivy much earlier. (Would it be weird to make this au have sam x ivy and jazz x harley?)

Valerie probably stays in Amity Park to be its designated hero since danny moved out. If the fentons are good, she works alongside them as the fentons also develop tech for the justice league. If they arent, im gonna assume theyre the reason dante and ellie got de-aged, danny absconded with their cores to keep them safe, and the rest of team phantom descended on the fenton parents like hungry wolves. When the dust settled, valerie and her dad were left in charge of protecting amity and with ownership of fentonworks.

Tucker is a freelance hacker slash tech expert, and will kit out any vigilante's tech and security free of charge. His unique blend of magitech is very difficult to counter, making it all-the-more sought after. He probably helped set oracle up and maybe even trained/mentored barb to some extent.

There are lots of other potential changes, but ill stop here.

[cheeeeseburger]

I'm an Aston Martin

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Masterlist

A/N: English is not my first language, apologies for the mistakes. Enjoy!

Even at 25, crossing the street was scary. People were driving so damn fast these days. Most drivers didn’t stop to let go you anyway. You were getting impatient, waiting on the corner in your short dress, all dolled up for a fancy dinner. You had gotten a few wolf-whistles already, and a car even honked.

Finally, a very expensive looking car stopped for you. As you were walking, you looked to your left to wave to the nice driver as a thank you. You nearly stopped dead in your track. The driver was a fine ass man. He was handsome and he looked a lot older than you, which clearly shouldn’t have that much of an effect on you. He lowered his gaze to get a good look at you, and he gave you an appreciative nod. Maybe your had pre-drink a little too hard, because you blew him a kiss as you finally crossed the street. You smiled to yourself as you entered the restaurant. This small interaction definitely put you in a good mood.

This dinner was starting to get more and more fun. People were now leaving to go to the dancefloor, and you made your way to the bar to get a drink, just to let loose a little. You accidentally bumped into a wall, which was actually a very sturdy man.

“Oh, excuse me sir!” The man turned around. Holy shit. It was the attractive man for earlier, at the crosswalk.

“Don’t apologize, princesa.” He looked so much hotter now that he was close to you. He had to be at least 15 years older than you, which was a nice bonus.

“It’s you!” was all you managed to reply. He smiled at you. The driver from earlier had an attractive face, and his suit made him look dashing.

“It’s me? Were you expecting me?” He flashed a cocky grin. This man was handsome, and he knew it. You blushed.

“You’re the guy who let me cross the street earlier! Thank you so much for being a gentleman.” You batted your eyelashes, going full-on flirty. This man was way too fine for you to resist the temptation.

He leaned in to whisper in your ear. “I only stop for pretty girls, princesa. But when they get to close, I stop being a gentleman.” You shivered. Goddamn. This was a thousand times better than your ex’s poor attempt at foreplay.

You managed to keep your cool, even though you were starting to get hot all over. “It’s okay, gentlemen are overrated anyway.” You put your hand on his arm. He stared at your eyes for a few seconds, clearly in a fight with himself.

“How kind of you to entertain an old man like me, princesa. Let me buy you a drink as a thank you.” His words made your heart drop in your chest. Did he really think you weren’t attracted to him?

“I assure you, sir, that you’re the one doing me a favour. Being here with a man as attractive as you, talking and laughing is doing wonders for my ego.” It was you turn to whisper in his ear: “Talking with you is also great for my daddy issues. Imagine what sleeping together could do to me, huh? It would be better than therapy.” He flushed. Okay, was this a new version of yourself? Were you finally able to talk seductively to a man you found attractive and not make a fool of yourself, for once?

“Princesa, this is all very flattering, but you’re way too young for me.” You didn’t even know his name, but you were already falling for this man who clearly needed to take a good look at himself in the mirror.

“It’s funny, I think I’m perfect for you, actually.” He laughed at that, and you flashed him your best smile. A connection was definitely forming, because it seemed as if the world stopped. There was only you, him, and something else that was just starting to blossom.

“Why don’t I buy you a drink and I let you go after, huh?” Feeling bold, you put your hand on his cheek.

“Oh baby, you’re never going to want to let me go.” He chuckled and put his hand on the small of your back to lead you to the bar.

(He in fact never let you, and he even put a ring on it to make sure you stay. But you didn’t know that at the time.)

“Tell me, princesa, what’s your drink of choice?” Fernando asked you. People around you were staring at the pair you were forming. Was this guy famous or something?

“I like an Amaretto sour!” He ordered one as well as a whiskey for himself. He paid, and you kissed his cheek as a thank you, letting your lips linger to the corner of his mouth.

“Interesting choice, hermosa. You seem so sweet, not sour at all.” You took a sip of your cocktail, and his eyes did not leave your lips for a second. “Don’t worry, handsome. I can still be very sweet. I just need to balance that sweetness.” You winked at him. This time, it was your turn to stare as he drank his whiskey. He was throwing his head back a little, and it made your imagination run wild with fantasies. You wanted to lock your arms behind his strong neck, and maybe leave a few hickeys there, too.

He laughed. “I like you, princesa. It’s scary because I don’t know anything about you.” His gaze lingered on your body, trying to gather information on you. The only thing he knew for sure was that you were the most stunning woman he had ever seen. And also, the youngest woman he had flirted with in a long, long time.

You felt butterflies all over your stomach when he mentioned liking you. This man was doing something to you. You answered: “Don’t be scared, lover boy. I feel the same, and I don’t even know your name. And I need to know so I can scream it later, when you take me in your bed.” You let your hand run all over his arm.

He looked up at the ceiling and started praying quietly. “Dios mio, hermosa.” He seemed to have trouble breathing. “You were right, I don’t know how I’m going to let you go.”

“How about you start you start by telling me your name, huh?” You squeezed his hand in yours and you gave him a reassuring smile.

“Okay. My name is Fernando Alonso. What’s yours, princesa?” Even his name was sexy. Alonso? That rung a bell. Didn’t that Charli xcx song mention that name?

“Fernando. Fernando. Fernando,” you repeated, liking the way his name rolled of your tongue. Apparently, he liked it too, a little too much. His eyes were full of desire.

“Stop that. It sounds too good. Tell me yours.” His knuckles were white. It was fun to see how much power you had over this near stranger.

“I won’t tell you, Fernando, because I’m afraid you’ll stop calling me princesa. I happen to like the nickname very much, Fernando,” you replied, making sure to insist on every syllable in his name. He raised an eyebrow, and he grabbed your arm and held it tight.

“I see what you’re doing, little girl. But this isn’t a game anymore” He put his hand around your waist and pulled you close. “I understand now why you’re attracted to me. You need someone older, someone to guide you. I could help you with that.” You felt heat rise everywhere in your body, his dominant words and his touch making your toes curl in your high heels. You had never felt his lips on yours, yet you were craving them. This man was driving you crazy, and nothing not PG rated had happened… yet.

With difficulties, you replied: “Then do it, please. You can do anything you want to do to me.” It was like something switched in his brain. All the restraint he had left his body. Fernando grabbed your arm and lead you all the way to a darkened corner. You were immediately against the wall, and his lips crashed against yours. You didn’t care that this was in public, and that this man was getting stares everywhere he went. Right now, the attraction between you two was the only thing on your mind.

Your fingers were twirling his hair to get a better grip on him. He put your leg around his waist, and you arched your back against him. You felt a bulge against your thigh, and that sent heat to your core. Were you really busy making out in public with a hot older man? If this was a dream, it was a damn good one, and you didn’t want to wake up.

“I’m going to take care of you, princesa.” Your moans replaced words. “Such a good girl, responding to my touch.” You nodded, and he wiped the lipstick off your swollen lips. Your legs were already shaking. You unbuttoned the first few buttons of his dress shirt, then pulled him by the collar.

“Fernando, please. I need you so bad, that I don’t even care if you take me right here, right now.” You had never wanted anyone else so badly. There was something special between you two, because otherwise you would have never felt so strongly about someone you just met. You started to leave little love bites all over his neck and jaw, practically begging him to fuck you.

He grunted at your words. “I would love to have you in front of everyone, but I don’t like to share. But I can’t wait, either.” You shivered. You didn’t know you had a thing for exhibitionism. He started to palm your body, and it felt like your skin was on fire every time he touched it. Fernando bit the strap of your dress and pulled it aside with his teeth to suck on that spot.

Thinking was hard. Replying was even harder. “Then fuck me in your car, where it all started.” He stopped what he was doing to immediately lead you out of the room. “That’s a great idea, princesa. Such a smart girl. I’m going to be very good to you. Keep it up.” You practically glowed at his praise. You felt special, because everyone was looking at the famous driver escaping the party with a pretty girl on his arm. Your dishevel hair was a pretty good clue as to what you were doing.

“Are you famous or something?” you asked.

He walked faster. “Don’t worry about it, hermosa.” A secretive man. Umm. He grabbed his keys from the valet, not bothering to get him to bring up his car.

Fernando was practically running in the parking lot to get to his Aston Martin, and you were following him, laughing. It was a very romantic moment. Somehow, it felt natural, casual even. There was a familiarity with Fernando that you had never observed with anyone else before. Your little walk was sometimes interrupted by him stopping in his tracks to stun you with kisses.

Finally, you got to his car. “Oh god. This is it. This is where I first saw you, and where I first noticed you were hot as fuck.” He laughed and pushed you against the hood.

“Don’t worry, princesa. I noticed you too. I saw how beautiful you were. I’m glad that I stopped for you, but I’m also mad, because every other car had to stop, and they all had the time to admire you while you crossed the street. I want to keep you for myself.” Fernando kissed the spot on your shoulder where the strap had fallen.

“Are you this possessive of every woman you just met?” You felt like the siren statues on ship, except that you were on a very expensive car. Just like a mermaid, you had lured him. Just like a sailor, you were drunk, but it wasn’t the alcohol that made you lose all your senses, it was him.

He chuckled and his large hands grabbed your waist. “Just with beautiful ones.” A wave of jealousy suddenly hit you. Had he done this before?

Fernando moved his attention to your neck, on which he left a trail of kisses and hickeys all the way to your jawline. He really was a possessive man, marking you as his. You balanced yourself on the hood of the car because you weren’t sure if your legs would be able to hold you any longer.

“I hope I’m the most beautiful of them all, then.” It was your turn to get possessive, which was crazy because three hours ago, you had never seen the man in question. You wrapped one leg around his waist to pull him forward. You felt his bulge, but there was too much fabric between you two, and you desperately rubbed yourself on him to try and get some friction to ease the heat between your legs. Fernando held your chin in his hands and put his thumb on your lower lip, forcing you to look at him.

“Of course you are. No one compares to you, princesa.” Oh, his words were too good, and you started to suck on his thumb.

“You’re too nice. Let me get you a treat, in exchange. Give me your jacket.” Confused, Fernando took of his suit jacket and gave it to you. With the jacket in your hand, you switched sides so he was the one resting against the hood.

You felt the fabric between your thumbs and winced when you saw that it was high quality. “I hope it wasn’t too expensive, because it might be ruined after this.” You put the jacket on the ground, and you went down on your knees.

“Dios mio, hermosa. Are you really going to do this here, outside?” You looked up at him and smirked. “Are you shy? Afraid of moaning too loudly, of everybody hearing you screaming?” You palmed him over the fabric of his pants and unzipped them.

In response, he pulled your hair and brought your head closer to his bulge. “Careful. You asked for it.” He removed his dick from his pants, and you started to suck on it.

Goddamn. You had enough material to suck on for days. You used your hands for the base, and you took as much as you could in your mouth. Fernando gripped your hair to push you forward. He was right, you had asked for it. Tears were stinging your eyes, but you didn’t mind them at all. The only thing you were focused on were his words of praise.

“You’re doing so good, princesa.” You heard a car door closing somewhere in the parking lot. You gasped and stopped what you were doing. “Don’t worry about it, hermosa. Keep it up, you’re doing so well.” He tilted your head, and you continued sucking on his length, his praise only making you ache more to please him.

When he felt he was about to come, he pushed your head back, but you returned to your original position and swallowed every last drop, your hand going back and forth for good measure.

Still on your knees, you looked up at him and licked your lips: “Did I do good?” Fernando put his hand under your chin. “You were perfect, princesa.” He helped you get up, giving your ass a small slap when you bent to pick up his jacket. You really hoped there were no cameras in the parking lot, but you kind of wish there were at the same time. The thought of everyone seeing you sucking his dick made you feel something down there. It was the kind of video you would like to watch again and again.

“Now it’s my turn to give you something, sweet girl.” Fernando spun you so your back was once again against the hood of the Aston Martin. His lips were on yours in an instant, and his hands were busy palming up your whole body, giving special attention to your breasts. He pinched your hard nipples that were showing up underneath the fabric of your dress between two fingers. You were moaning so fucking loud; it was like you were paid to do it.

“Shhh, we don’t want to get caught,” Fernando said, placing one hand over your mouth. Your plea and your cries were muttered, but if they weren’t, the whole neighborhood would have heard you begging the hot Spaniard to please get inside of you. Even though this man was a near stranger, you two understood each other perfectly, it was like you were in synch. “Now, princesa. Do you want to do this right here, or inside the car?”

You didn’t hesitate for a second: “Here. I can’t wait. Please, please, please, Fernando. You have to get inside of me.” He grunted at your eagerness, then took both of your arms and raised them over your head to pin them on the hood, near the windshield. You were on display on the hood, a dessert for him to enjoy, a sweet treat for him to devour.

“You want this so badly, little girl. After what you did for me, it’s only fair that I give back to you.” Fernando went down to your jaw and left a trail of kisses all the way to your cleavage, where he pushed aside the fabric of your dress to give you hickeys in the valley between your breasts. You wished you were in front of a mirror to get a better view of him savouring you.

His hands were busy lifting the hem of your dress and drawing circles higher and higher each time on your thighs. When you felt his fingers through the thin fabric of your underwear, you let out a moan that was good enough for a porn movie. You were holding on to the hood for dear life when he put one finger inside of you, then two.

“Oh my god, Fernando, oh my god!” you nearly shouted, panting. You must have done something good recently because you had never experienced anything as good before.

“If you keep it up, princesa, the whole fucking parking lot will hear you. So be a good girl and keep quiet.” Anything for you, hot stranger.

“I just need to have your dick in me so bad. I saw how big it was, and I need you to fill me up.” He shut you up with a kissing frenzy that left your lips swollen and your mind fuzzy.

“Who am I to refuse anything to such an angel?” He parted your legs and removed your underwear, letting it fall on the ground. Somewhere in his pocket, he found a condom and rolled it on.

Just the tip was enough to make your eyes roll to the back of your head.

“Oh god. I don’t think it’s going to fit!” He laughed, but you heard him let out pained noises. You had just given him a massive ego boost. Slowly, inches by inches, he managed to make it fit.

You wanted to scream at each thrust, but he always kept you quiet with a kiss or his hand over your mouth. In the back of your mind, you were thinking about the huge risk you were taking, fucking a stranger in a public place and all, but all you could focus about was the way he felt inside of you. You were gripping hard on his shoulders and on the car to stay standing up, because your legs were oh so very weak.

“That’s it, take it all in, princesa. You’re so perfect, all put on display for me. Thank god I let you cross the street earlier.” He caressed your hair and whispered words of praise in your ear that you would think about every time you used your vibrator for at least the next 10 years.

You were about to give in to your orgasm. He had found the perfect pace for you. In fact, everything he did was perfect for you. It was sad to think you would never feel anything this good ever again.

When you came undone, your legs started to shake uncontrollably, and you slipped of the hood. Fernando held you in place as he did a few other sloppy thrusts as he was himself finishing.

You both stood there, panting, appreciating the beauty of what you just did.

"I think I know why you're famous. You must be a pornstar, because you sure fuck like one." He chuckled and his lips lightly brushed your bare shoulder. "Don't be silly, hermosa. I'm not in this business. But I do ride for a living." Ok, that just left you more confused. Fernando softly kissed you.

“Now, princesa, do you think you could give me your name?”