#corolla/rants

[dissonance-in-a-major]

watched saltburn like 2 months ago and I still dont understand why (more) ppl thirst over elordi's bland character instead of madekwe's beautiful funny witty naive (at times) easily manipulated snobby annoying insulting charismatic role

#saltburn #archie madekwe #what does felix rlly got going on for him #besides a brow piercing #corolla/rants

[chancellorberrynewt]

Recently, while working on fixing my brain, I followed the suggestion of writing a letter to myself as a child, telling your younger self what you wish someone would have told you as a kid. (Read here: https://www.robertllynch.com/2023/07/26/note-to-self/ ) I realized what I needed to do, and told my daughter all the same things I told my younger self. We both cried. I think that's progress. Full uncensored version available on my patreon: https://www.patreon.com/robertllynch

#game design #psychology #self-improvement #angry #rant #video game design #video games #unreal engine #ue5 #unreal #goat simulator #review #meaning of life #1999 Toyota Corolla #trauma #childhood trauma #emotional neglect #childhood emotional neglect #daughter #love #I love my daughter #inner child #inner child work #therapy #therapist #Robert L. Lynch #ohio #ohio sucks #Youtube

[bonivers]

troyela -> spideychele

aaaaaand we’re back

#all my brain think of when i saw ‘troyela’ was toyota corolla. i had to switch back #allana rants #me after spending like 3 days w another url LAHKSJSKSH

[bsstories]

Teach Me?

Pairing: mikasa ackerman x fem!reader

Rating: nsfw, mature, 18+. MDNI

Word Count: tba, wrote this on mobile LMAO

Genre: smut, fluff, friends-to-lovers, modern au, college au

summary: you & mikasa were childhood best friends that told each other everything. mikasa opens up about her struggles with intimacy and you show her the ropes.

tags/warnings: friends-to-lovers, modern au, college au, fluff, smut (mutual masturbation, guided masturbation, kissing/making out, groping/heavy petting, fingering, oral (f. receiving), praise, light body worship, use of pet names (baby, beautiful, angel, etc.), blacking out after an orgasm) (as usual, if i missed anything, lmk!)

You and Mikasa have been friends since childhood. Ever since you had met, you were attached at the hip. And despite having ups and downs like anyone else, you found yourselves closer than ever during college.

Mikasa has always been the innocent one, the one with that soft, wide-eyed naivety that comes with inexperience. Despite being smart as a whip and wildly talented in everything she does, underneath her quietly dangerous facade is nothing but a quiet, blushing virgin. You, on the other hand, were full of knowledge when it came to sex and pleasure, and though your attempts to help your dear friend learn would suggest otherwise, she could never quite get past her fear of her own body and intimacy. You regularly discuss her hang ups with pleasure but Mikasa was still painfully clueless when it came to her own body.

You didn’t necessarily blame her; in all the time you’ve known her, she’s prioritized her studies and the people she loved above all else. Valedictorian, avid community member, and overall saint, Mikasa never had the time to unwind and explore herself. Sure, her diet was almost as clean as it could be and she was stronger than most of your friends in terms of physical strength, but she was never one to give in the curious voice in the back of her head that urged her to figure out what the hype around masturbation and sex was all about.

One day you���re hanging out together at home alone, trying your best to study but ultimately failing and instead favoring talking about anything and everything else.

You were sat cross-legged on her bed, snacking on some random trail mix you found in your pantry and listening to Mikasa rant about a god-awful date she had gone on the previous weekend. It seemed to only get worse the more she went on and on more than one occasion you had to stop her just to drop in a casual, “what the fuck” or “you’re kidding, right?”

“And then,” she huffed, frustratedly pushing her inky black fringe out of her face, “after making out for no more than ten minutes or so, the fucker goes, ‘can’t we just like… stick it in?’ Can you believe that? It’s the first fucking date! We’re in his mom’s 2007 Toyota corolla! And he wants to just stick his dick in me? He doesn’t even know my last name!”

A disbelieving but amused laugh escapes you as you listen to the animated re-telling of Mikasa’s quite tragic excuse of a date. “I’m assuming you didn’t,” you begin, “you know, just stick it in?”

Mikasa huffs out an airy laugh. “I- no. No, I didn’t. He- he did finger me though.”

Your hand halts halfway to your mouth, your jaw dropped in surprise. If you had loosened your fingers any more, the handful of trail mix you held would have made a mess all over Mikasa’s grey bedsheets.

“He- you let him finger you?” you repeat disbelievingly.

“Well, yeah? Sort of? I mean, he could only get one finger in because I was too squirmy to let him use any more than that. It didn’t last super long.”

“You were okay with it, right? You gave consent and everything?”

“I did, don’t worry. Honestly, I think I was just hoping that since I was kinda interested in the guy I’d actually feel something for once,” she said dejectedly, visibly deflating at the thought.

You sit up a little straighter, pushing the half-empty bowl away from you. “But you said you weren’t super comfortable with him, right? Mikasa, I mean this in the nicest way possible, but you’re hardly comfortable getting yourself off.”

She seemed to become very interested in her chipped red nail polish then, her head hung as she wrung her fingers together anxiously. “I know. I guess… I guess I was just hoping that this time would be… different? I wanted to feel normal for once, not like something’s wrong with me.”

The words barely leave her lips before you’re on your knees, pulling the girl into a tight hug. You feel her relax against you, arms wrapping around your shoulders. “Mik, I promise you there is absolutely nothing wrong with you. Nobody just knows what they like when it comes to sex; it’s a learning curve. There is absolutely nothing wrong with still figuring out what your body does or doesn’t like and clearly this guy wasn’t the right person to help you discover those things.”

Mikasa seems to freeze up a bit at that, slowly pulling away from your embrace. From behind her bangs, you can see how pink her face had gotten.

“Okay… um… I’m going to say something, and before you react, let me finish first, okay?” the words come out in a rush, something you’re not used to when it comes to Mikasa. She was strikingly well-spoken, incredibly intelligent and articulate. It was rare to see her stumble over her words the way she was right now.

“I- yeah, of course. Go ahead, love.”

Mikasa sucks in a breath. You can’t tell if it’s to mentally prepare herself from whatever it was she was going to ask you or because of the affectionate pet name that happened to slip out when you responded to her. “So… I was thinking… You’ve been trying to help me with this whole sex thing for a long time now and you’re the only person I have ever been comfortable talking to about all of this… You’re my best friend and the person I trust more than anyone… and I don’t want what I’m going to ask to change or ruin anything at all, but I’m getting a bit desperate and -“

“Mikasa, you’re starting to freak me out. What is it?” you interrupt. And you weren’t lying. Her rambling was so out of the ordinary that it was probably way more concerning than what she was so scared to ask.

“Canyouteachmehowtomasturbate?” she rushed out finally.

You sit there for a moment, processing. It takes a second to understand what she said since it all came out in one breath, and then another second to recognize what it was she was asking you to do. And for the second time tonight, you feel your jaw drop.

“I- what?” you say intelligently.

Mikasa avoids your gaze but you can still see the embarrassment in her expression and the nervous fidgeting she’s doing with her hands. It’s rather cute.

You raise your eyebrows at your own thought. Where the hell did that come from? Your best friend asks you to teach her how to masturbate and immediately you’re attracted to her?

But… how immediate was it really? Mikasa was objectively very beautiful. She had a kind heart and intelligence beyond words. Her physical beauty only reflected how gorgeous her soul was. Sure, you’ve always admired her, but it was never anything more than a friend appreciating a friend… or was it?

Mikasa was your rock, the person you cared about more than anything. You didn’t think something like this could ruin the relationship you two had, but who knows? All you knew was that you’d be damned if you lost her just because of some sort of post-vulnerable-moment awkwardness.

You brushed your thoughts away and grounded yourself by pinching your thigh. Mikasa was your best friend. And she needed your help.

“You know what, never mind. That was such a stupid thing to say, I’m so sorry I even mentioned it-”

“Okay.”

This time, it was Mikasa’s turn to freeze up. You almost laughed at how cute she looked completely and utterly shocked. Her mouth opened and closed a few times as if she was trying to find the words to respond but couldn’t.

Eventually, “I- okay? Okay, like…”

“Okay, like, I’ll help you.” You said.

Mikasa stared at you like she couldn’t believe you had agreed.

You take a deep breath. This was going to be interesting. “Um… I guess the absolute first step is going to be getting yourself into the mood.”

Your ebony-haired friend seemed to suddenly snap out of her disbelief at your words. “Woah, we’re gonna start right now?”

“I’m sorry, did you want to postpone this to later? Do you have somewhere else to be right now?”

Mikasa shoves your shoulder, face red-hot with embarrassment. “Oh, fuck off. You know I’m awkward with these things.”

“That’s what we’re trying to fix right now, babe,” you answer smugly. The girl across from you rolls her eyes.

“Fine. How do you suggest I ‘get in the mood’?”

“I mean personally, I’m always horny,” Mikasa snickers in response. You decide to ignore her. “But to get me going I usually will read some smut or just start teasing myself if I have the time and patience.”

“Sure, but… I get horny too and nothing really comes from it. Literally, I guess.” You both giggle at her unintentional pun. “My biggest problem is that I don’t know how… I don’t know what…”

“You don’t know how to touch yourself?”

Mikasa flushes, avoiding your gaze. After a beat or two, she nods in affirmation. You suck in a breath.

“Do you want me to show you?”

Silence.

And then, “Yes.”

Time freezes for a moment and you find yourself unable to breathe. You certainly weren’t expecting your study date to be productive, but there was no way you could’ve guessed it was going to turn out to be a tutoring session for masturbation. But looking at your best friend now, all pink-faced and embarrassed, big doe eyes wide with incredulity and chest heaving in anticipation, you can’t say you’re disappointed with how the day turned out.

Wordlessly, you start to shed your jacket, letting it drop off the side of the bed with a near-silent plop. Mikasa watches you intently as you go to grip the hem of your t-shirt and then nods when you look at her questioningly, a silent request for permission.

You’ve seen each other in only underwear - sometimes less - countless times. This wasn’t new or different for you two by any means. But the context, the atmosphere, could not be less similar.

“I’m going to show you what I do, and then if you’re comfortable with it, you can start to copy me.” you say softly.

“Okay.” Mikasa responds almost breathlessly, watching as you continue to strip until you’re left in only your underwear.

You had to admit, there was something strangely erotic about the situation you found yourself in right now. Thinking about your frustratingly attractive best friend watching you as you got yourself off was more hot than you’d thought it would be.

“I always get myself comfortable. I don’t like being fully dressed when I masturbate if I can avoid it… it gets too hot. It’s also just easier to tease and work yourself up if you have easier access to your own body,” You explain. You lean against Mikasa’s headboard clad in only your bra and panties and slowly begin to trail your fingertips over your breasts and stomach.

“This would probably be around the time I get some reading material or porn out if I’m feeling frustrated. But I don’t really need it right now,” you’ve started to ramble as you realize just how quiet and focused Mikasa had become. Her gaze was locked on to your hands, watching with an unreadable expression as you traced the cups of your bra and underwire. You clear your throat and continue, “I’m not the most sensitive around my tits unless I’m about to get my period. So right now, for instance, they’re a lot more tender than usual.”

You take a deep breath before finally pulling the cups of your bra down, exposing your chest to your best friend and to the cool bedroom. Your fingertips instinctually travel to your nipples and begin to play around with them, rolling them between your thumb and forefingers and giving them an occasional tug. “I kinda skip this bit when I’m super sexually frustrated but for the sake of… what would you even call this? A demonstration?” You giggle nervously for the sake of it, Mikasa half-heartedly joining in. Her bottom lip was caught between her teeth in a way that almost seemed painful. “You okay, Mik?”

Dark brown, almost black eyes snap back up to meet yours. Her cheeks flush pink as if she just realized that she had been caught staring. “Oh… yeah, yeah I’m good.”

You nod slowly. Without even really thinking about it, you reach around your back and unclip the restrictive garment, sighing in relief as it loosens and falls to the top of the bed. “God, I hate those things.”

Your fingers find their way to your mouth as you subconsciously wet them and bring them back to your hardened nipples, a small gasp escaping you at the feeling.

“Now is usually about when I get myself more… wet, I guess? Jeez, it’s so weird saying this all out loud,” you comment quietly. “I love lightly stroking my inner thighs. They’re super sensitive and usually get me going the quickest.”

You shift a bit more in an attempt to get yourself comfy. Then you realize that you literally have to spread your legs in front of your best friend, who you realize, again, has fallen uncharacteristically silent for the nth time that evening. But the familiar warmth in your lower tummy and the thrumming in your veins prevents you from thinking too much of it, rather encouraging you to get on with the demonstration.

You were so consumed with the details that you hadn’t even realized that your attempts to get yourself horny had worked just as well as usual, if not more so.

Without any further hesitation, you spread your legs, essentially presenting your absolutely sopping pussy to your best friend. You follow through with your own instructions, carefully tracing your inner thighs with your fingers and gradually getting closer and closer to your core.

“At this point,” you breathe out. “I may start teasing myself over my underwear.” Your fingers dance over your panty-clad clit and you sigh, your hips pushing forward into your hand. You can feel the way your body reacts to even the slightest touches, your chest heaving and breath quickening, and you forget to say any sort of bullshit before you strip off your panties completely.

Your fingers find your opening almost out of instinct and you’re startled by how slick you’ve become; you were positively gushing, your arousal covering every inch of your folds and dripping down your labia. “I always start with clit stimulation,” you say quickly, fingers finding the bud with practiced ease and beginning to rub slow, steady circles around it. You hum contentedly. “If I’m too lazy to use my fingers or just wanna blow off some steam, I’ll just use my vibrator. But my fingers almost always give me the best orgasm.”

You pick up the pace, rubbing diligent circles around your clit and melting into the bed beneath you. The pleasure is so intense that you lose yourself in it, wholly forgetting that your best friend is there.

But Mikasa?

She is far too invested in the sight in front of her.

Mikasa has always found you stunning. The first time you guys met was when she first asked her mother if she could marry a girl one day if she wanted to. And while she never actively pursued anything past friendship with you, she still loved you dearly. Her attraction to you was just simply never enough to get in the way of your relationship.

But now? Watching you, in your birthday suit, getting lost in your own pleasure and body with little care or hesitation? She’s not sure she can justify putting that attraction on the back burner any longer. The way your back arches off her lush comforter, the way your hips buck every so often when you hit your clit ever so perfectly, the way your nose and eyes scrunch as you let bliss overtake your senses… Mikasa can’t honestly say she has ever seen anything more beautiful.

The little whimpers and sighs that fall from your bitten lips are music to her ears, a song she wants to listen to on repeat until the end of time. When you open your eyes once more to look at her and say, “eventually… eventually I’ll slip a finger or two in”, Mikasa nearly ascends.

The lips and folds of your pussy are absolutely soaked, puffy and swollen from arousal and stimulation. They were drenched in your juices and glistening like gems. When your middle finger finally slips into your waiting hole, Mikasa can’t help the moan that leaves her lips and mixes in with your own, a perfect harmony.

Whether you hear it or not is irrelevant, especially when masturbating has almost never felt this intense. Mikasa watching you has had a much stronger affect than you could have ever anticipated. Thinking about how she looks at you, imagining that your hand was her own has you squirming, your walls clenching and contracting with every new image your mind conjures up.

Suddenly, you’re broken out of your own daydreams by the sound of a zipper being undone. Your eyes snap open in time to see Mikasa shakily pulling off her jeans. The blush that had stubbornly remained dusted on her nose and cheeks had spread down to her chest, which was now flushed a bashful pink. Her tits - ones you’ve always envied for their sheer perfection - were hardly contained by the pathetic excuse of a shirt she wore, nipples hard and poking through the thin cotton. You’re about to beg her to take it off when she shucks it off with the same urgency her jeans came off with.

“Gonna join me?” You smile softly, slowing your fingers but not ever stopping. Mikasa looks at you, pupils blown wide and chest heaving.

“I… I can’t just watch. Feels like torture,” she answers quickly. You suck in a breath as she situates herself opposite of you, spreading her legs in similar fashion as you and never breaking eye contact. It takes herculean effort to not ogle at her chest, but you know that if you even snuck a peak, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from sucking one of her tits into your mouth. Instead, your gaze drops to her pussy, which looks almost as, if not more, wet than your own. Her pastel pink panties were nearly sheer from her arousal. “I don’t think I need to do any of the teasing,” she says bluntly. You nod your head eagerly in agreement.

You dip two fingers into your hole at that point and can’t hold back the moan that leaves you. The stretch was delightful, the curl of your fingertips even more so.

Mikasa’s patience snaps. Her panties are off in a flash and her hand snakes down to her core. She’s pleasantly shocked by how wet she’d gotten, but she hardly has enough time to register the satisfaction before she hears…

“Mikasa…” you sigh.

Your best friend whines in desperation after hearing the way you moaned her name, starting her first attempt to mimic the motions you showed her earlier. Her middle and ring finger trace clumsy but eager circles around her clit… or at least the general vicinity of it. You watch in fascination as the ebony-haired girl takes her bottom lip between her teeth in concentration and quickens the pace of her fingers.

“Whoa, okay. Slow down a bit, Mik, it’s not a race,” you chuckle lightly, your own motions slowing down to prevent yourself from cumming too quick. “Slowly, gently… Okay?”

Mikasa hums in affirmation, slowing her circles just a bit. You watch as her slender fingers play with her simply stunning pussy with both a sense of teacher-like criticism and lust-induced arousal.

“Your clit’s gonna be a little higher than that. Right about,” you draw out the vowels, reaching to grab her wrist with your clean hand and directing it a bit higher. “here.”

At that moment you both look up, realizing how startlingly close you were. Though she was leaning back on her one free hand, you were practically hovering over her; your faces were mere inches apart, so close that you could feel the light puffs of her exhales on your burning face. Mikasa’s eyes dart between your own before falling to your lips. Your tongue subconsciously darts out to wet them.

The girl across from you groans, hanging her head. “You… you’re gonna need to stop doing that,” she sighs. Her head drops to avoid eye contact, out of embarrassment or frustration you don’t know. You raise an eyebrow, tilting your head and trying to regain eye contact with her.

Your words die in your throat. The gaze you’re locked in with your best friend is way more than just intense. You can’t seem to look away, not that you’d really want to in the first place. Mikasa looks desperate in a way you’ve never seen before, pupils blown out completely and breath coming out in short pants.

You can’t resist dragging your eyes over her figure this time; her whole body was covered in a light layer of sweat and glimmered under the purple LED lights in her room. The hand you had a hold on was trembling slightly and you moved to grab on to it reassuringly. It’s quiet enough in her room that you can still hear the sound of her gulping over the low music you had switched on earlier. You couldn’t seem to take your eyes off of her, letting your gaze move back up to her eyes. “Mik…” you call out softly.

The nickname seems to be her breaking point. Without any apparent hesitation, Mikasa sits up and presses her lips to yours, locking them in a gentle yet searing kiss. You can’t help but make a small noise of surprise in the back of your throat, but as her previously busy hand slowly travels up your arm to cup the back of your neck, you find yourself melting into her body.

Her lips are some of the softest, if not the softest, you’ve ever felt in your whole life. As she began to move her mouth against yours it took everything in you to not audibly curse yourself out for holding back for so long. You let your body react the way you’ve always wanted it to, your arm snaking around Mikasa’s waist and pulling her body flush against your own. She gasps into your mouth but you silence it almost immediately with your tongue, trying to memorize the feeling and taste of hers. She clings to your shoulders as you lean back, propping herself up on your lap with your chests pressing against one another’s.

Every inch of skin that makes contact with Mikasa’s feels as if it’s aflame, each matching heartbeat sending blood rushing to your head and heat spreading down to your pussy. Your hands are insatiable, never lingering in one place for too long and desperately trying to feel every dip and curve of your best friend’s figure. They eventually settle in her unusually wild ebony hair, tangling up in the soft strands and gently maneuvering her so you had access to her neck.

You find yourself pressing frantic, open-mouthed kisses along her jugular, nipping and sucking more and more as you make your way closer to her chest. Her sweet moans and little whimpers spur you on, motivating you to wordlessly worship every bit of her body.

“Mikasa,” you breathe, pulling away for a moment. You heard her whine quietly and see her try to chase your lips with her own, but your tightened grip in her hair stops her. “Baby… please let me help you make you feel good.”

The girl in your arms freezes for a second, processing your words. Maybe it’s because even after making out with you for a few blissful moments she still isn’t sure how she found herself in this situation, or perhaps she was still nervous about her past experiences getting in her way of having a good time. But after a moment of thinking about it, however, she nods eagerly. “Please,” she finds herself whispering against your lips, feeling the wetness between her legs grow exponentially just thinking about what you wanted to do to her.

You grin and kiss her again, this time long and slow… it’s sensual, the way your lips slide against one another’s, the way her fingertips lightly trace the curve of your chest and stomach. Your hands find their home on Mikasa’s hips and you gently guide her off of your lap.

Long, lean legs fall open for you almost as soon as Mikasa finds herself on her bed again. You vaguely register her getting herself situated, leaning back on her elbows and readjusting her hips, and instead find yourself (once again) being absolutely entranced by her pussy.

“What do you want, Mik?” you ask quietly, shifting your gaze up to her own as you lowered yourself to your stomach. Your face was only mere inches away from Mikasa’s dripping hole and it took some of the most intense self control of your life to stop yourself from diving straight in. You could hear Mikasa’s breath hitch as you let your hands rest on the insides of her thighs, your fingers kneading at her soft skin.

“You already know.” she says shakily, gripping on to her bedsheets in anticipation as your touch moved closer and closer to where she wanted you most.

“I need to hear you say it.”

Mikasa feels trapped in your stare, like your eyes were boring into her soul. But, strangely, she didn’t feel nervous or scared. Instead, all she felt was intense longing and lust, want that scratched at her heart and throat and threatened to come spilling out the more you worked her up. She takes a deep, shuddering breath before finally admitting, “I- I want you to make me cum.”

From between her legs, you smile up at her fondly, feeling both proud of her courage and endeared by her desire.

Wordlessly, you lower your face down to her cunt, and without breaking eye contact you take your first confident lick.

Both of you groan in unison, Mikasa in response to the most intense and pleasurable sensation she’s ever felt and you in response to how damn good she tasted. You can’t seem to stop yourself anymore now that you’ve finally gotten a taste of her, eagerly beginning to lick her out.

Mikasa is in heaven right now. She’s convinced that you’re an absolute goddess, a gift from above sent to her for… well, she can’t even begin to imagine what she had to have done to deserve you as she watches your eyes unfocus, losing yourself in her pussy. She feels like she can barely breathe while you have your mouth on her, the tip of your tongue prodding at her entrance and flicking at her clit. When you wrap your perfect lips around the bud and give it the first little suck, she has to bite down on her tongue to prevent too embarrassing a sound from coming out.

You’re not the tidiest person to begin with, but you eat Mikasa out like a starved woman, your spit and her slick absolutely soaking the bottom half of your face. You can’t help yourself. Not when Mikasa makes the prettiest noises and pulls on your hair the way she does.

“F-fuck, baby,” she swears under her breath. You hum in response, looking up at her with wide, doe eyes, at which she promptly curses again. It’s a difficult task, pulling yourself away from her, but you manage. Mikasa whines but you shush her softly, your hand moving from her thigh to her folds to keep her stimulated.

“How’re you feeling, angel?” You ask gently, fingertips rubbing slow, tight circles on her clit.

Mikasa looks positively wrecked. But she attempts a weak smile. “You’re too good at this,” she replies. You chuckle, letting your middle finger slide down her folds and push into her hole. Your best friend sighs, letting her head tip back.

“Well, it’s not hard when the company’s good,” you say. She laughs a bit at that but it’s cut off by a strangled moan when you finally let yourself play with her tits. You decide that this is your new favorite spot: two fingers in your best friend’s cunt with your lips wrapped around her nipples.

Your fingers feel around and curl to find the spot that you know will make Mikasa see stars. You know you’ve found it when she cries out, hips jumping off the bed and back arching. The grin that spreads on your face is uncontainable.

“There we go,” you sigh, quickening the pace of your fingers and making sure you hit that same spot over and over again.

Mikasa isn’t sure she’s ever made this much noise with a partner but she can’t bring herself to care in that moment. She can’t seem to control her body anymore either, her hips seemingly working as if they had a mind of their own. The sounds of your fingers sliding in and out of her pussy are downright lewd, and the rhythmic squelching mixed with her moans is pornographic is every sense of the word.

When you trail kisses down her navel and back onto her cunt, Mikasa’s world explodes. Your fingertips are hitting the same delicious spot over and over again and your lips are busy with her clit, tongue sweeping harsh and deliberate licks on it in time with your fingers. An unfamiliar feeling fills her lower stomach, a warmth that travels down her legs and up her torso. It’s like a rubber band growing more and more taut, seconds away from snapping. And with one particular hand movement, it breaks.

Mikasa bites her lip so hard it bleeds as she cums more violently than you’ve ever seen before, her whole body shuddering like… well, like it was finally releasing two decades of built up tension. You’re deliberate in your movements, riding out the most intense orgasm you’ve ever seen as you savor the taste of her release and gently remove your fingers.

You look up and almost panic when you see Mikasa limp on the bed before you, but you’re reassured by her quiet, indiscernible murmuring. When you finally realize what had happened, you can’t stop yourself from laughing a little bit.

She passed out.

Oh, you are never gonna let her live this down.

~

Somehow, Mikasa finds herself laying in her bed with you laid out right beside her. She frowns; both of you are still as naked as the day you were born, but you had the courtesy to throw one of Mikasa’s homemade quilts over your bodies to conserve a bit of her remaining dignity.

“Wait… What just-”

“Think you might’ve blacked out for a second,” you giggle. Mikasa gapes at you and you can’t help but laugh harder. Your amusement seems to bring her back to the present though and she slaps your arm with a scoff.

“Shut up.”

“Oh, so now you wanna act all tough, huh?” you tease, nudging her with your elbow.

“Fuck off, I don’t have to tell you that was great.” she says. You smile at her, hand reaching over to push some of her hair out of her face. Your grin only grows when she lets her head lean into your palm.

“You certainly don’t.”

“You are insufferable.”

“You love me.”

“You’re right, I do.”

Now, that seems to catch you both off guard. Mikasa flushes bright red and avoids your eyes as you stare at her.

“What?”

“I- yeah, I mean. I thought that much was obvious?” It doesn’t seem to be a question but it comes out like one. Mikasa still won’t meet your gaze.

“Mikasa, if it were as obvious as you think it was I don’t think it would’ve taken nearly this long for anything to happen between us.”

Mikasa’s eyes widen in realization.

“You’re probably right.”

“I know I am. Looks like both of us are just a little hopeless when it comes to some of this stuff.”

You both snort at the vast understatement.

A beat of silence passes before you add. “I love you, too.”

When you turn to look at the girl beside you, you find that she had already been staring at you, looking very deep in thought. Your face burns at the intensity of her stare and you clear your throat. Mikasa’s gaze refocuses instantly and she blushes, knowing she absolutely got caught.

“What, something on my face?”

“No, I guess I just wasn’t expecting…”

“Expecting me to say it back?“

Mikasa nods solemnly. Your heart swells, a cocktail of different emotions swirling around your chest like a hurricane. But somehow, it doesn’t feel overwhelming or bad. It just sits there, stalling.

“I think I only just figured it out for myself, to be honest,” you admit. “‘Cause I never wanted to jeopardize our friendship over a crush. But I guess it’s more than that. And I think it’s always been more than that… I’ve just been…”

“Scared?” Mikasa finished.

Now it’s your turn to nod. “I don’t regret it though. Any of this,” you say firmly. “In fact, I think this may be one of the best things that has ever happened to me.”

Mikasa smiles, a beautiful, real grin that lights up her equally stunning face.

“We can definitely agree on that.”

Silence again. Relieved, comfortable silence. It’s rather comforting.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” Mikasa sighs, meeting your stare again. You blush, opening your mouth to respond before she continues, “And… I was thinking…”

“By all means, keep doing that. If this is anything like the last time I’m sure I’ll like whatever you’re coming up with,” you joke, playing with the hand that wasn’t currently pillowing Mikasa’s face. Her skin is pretty tough, calloused and strong from years of lifting and working out. But somehow her hands still seemed delicate, almost doll-like. You couldn’t help but be fascinated by them, interlacing your fingers together in wonder.

Mikasa’s heart stutters at the tender gesture but she’s not deterred by it anymore. “I’d really like to return the favor, if you’re up for it.”

Almost immediately your movements stop. You think your heart stopped as well, for a moment or two. When you finally stop short-circuiting and turn your face to stare at Mikasa in shock, you sputter, “W-wait, return the favor? Like, right now?”

She laughs. “I’m getting deja vu,” Mikasa muses to herself. She sits up, leaning over you and caging your body in her arms. “It’s only fair, dontcha think?”

You feel your whole body burn, desire pushing its way through to the front of your awareness. “I mean… I’m not gonna stop you, but are you sure you want to?” Mikasa chooses that moment to dip her head and nuzzle your cheek, nosing her way to your neck to press soft kisses down your throat.

“I’m sure,” you gasp when you feel her teeth nip the sensitive skin around your collarbone and her lips suck a hickey on to it. “I’m a fast learner but I always pick things up better when I try them hands-on.”

A curious tweak of your nipples makes you moan, back arching into Mikasa’s playful touches. “Who are you and what have you done with my best friend?” you ask breathlessly, watching the ebony-haired woman play with your tits with a fascinated looked on her face.

Mikasa lets out a low, dare-you-say sexy chuckle that makes you want to press your legs together. “Still here, love, don’t worry.” Her right hand slides up from your chest to your jaw, pulling you into a deep, sensual kiss. The action has her thigh bump into your cunt, the tiny bit of contact against your aching clit making you gasp and moan into her mouth. You feel her grin into your mouth before trailing hot kisses along your jaw, her left hand going to cup your pussy. Your hips push into her palm on their own accord, chasing the feeling of her touch on your most sensitive spots. Mikasa leans into you, lips brushing against your ear. “I want you to tell me how you like it, okay?”

Your eyes widen at her words, feeling more turned on than you had ever felt in your entire life. Nodding, you arch your body into your best friend’s. “Please, Mik,” you whimper.

Wordlessly, the ebony-haired beauty begins trailing wet, open-mouthed kisses down the column of your neck to your chest, sucking little marks as she went. When she finally reached your tits, she glances up at you with a devious little gleam in her eyes before sucking a hard nipple into her mouth. You gasp, hand reaching up to card your fingers through Mikasa’s hair as the woman toys with your breast. Her tongue traces slow, deft circles around it before lightly sucking, her right hand going to play with your other breast.

You twitch in surprise as you feel Mikasa’s left hand beginning to wander, deft fingers curiously gathering your wetness and spreading it around your folds. The action is welcomed, though, as you find yourself utterly melting into her embrace. She giggles against your warm skin and you gasp at the vibrations it creates against your nipple.

“You’re so cute,” she coos, pulling away from your chest to look at you affectionately. She moves on to lavish your other breast with the same thoroughness as the first one and you keen, fingers tightening around her dark strands. You knew you shouldn’t ever underestimate Mikasa, no matter what, but you still found yourself floored at the total 180 she took from being a blushing, scared virgin to this self-assured, dare-you-say erotic woman in front of you in a mere hour. Your best friend was smart beyond words, and her ability to pick up new skills and execute them flawlessly the first time will never cease to amaze you.

Your train of thought is abruptly cut off when Mikasa begins pressing increasingly fast, sloppy kisses from your chest, down your stomach and finally to your inner thighs. A surprise nip to the sensitive skin there causes you to yelp and then giggle, equally aroused and endeared by this new side to the beautiful girl laid out in front of you.

Mikasa was having the time of her life teasing you. She basked in your little sounds, the little gasps and whimpers that escaped you as she marked up your pretty thighs music to her ears. And when she snuck a peak up at your face, watching how your brows furrowed and chest heaved in anticipation, she could feel her stomach clench with the need to please you the way you were able to please her.

As she brought her gaze back down to your center, Mikasa had to bite back a groan. Your pussy was practically begging to be touched with the way it was leaking, the wetness soaking even the delicate skin surrounding your swollen folds. She almost felt bad that you had gotten so close to a release only to stop and help her, but she was determined to fix that for you.

A gasp tore out of your throat when Mikasa finally placed a soft kiss to your clit. After your own attempts to get off and then experiencing something as sexy as watching your best friend come undone for the first time, to say that you were desperate was a bit of an understatement. You spread your legs wider in encouragement, resisting the urge to grab her by the hair and push her closer to you.

When Mikasa’s tongue darted out and took it’s first little lick to your clit, you had to slap your hand over your mouth to stifle the moan that threatened to escape. Mikasa, meanwhile, groaned at your taste and latched her lips around the nub. Her hands gently kneaded at your thighs, keeping you spread for her.

It would be safe to say that you were losing your mind, at least a bit. If you hadn’t known any better, you would’ve thought that the beautiful girl lapping at your folds was a literal pro at eating pussy, her tongue and lips bold in their movements and somehow managing to bring you right to the edge in less that a minute.

“Shit, Mik, you’re a fucking natural,” you sighed, breath hitching when the raven-haired beauty let the tip of her tongue prod at your entrance. She looked up at you through dark, full eyelashes, already dark eyes nearly black with desire.

“I had a good teacher,” she breathed out, a devious smirk playing on her glistening lips as she dove back in with somehow even more enthusiasm than she had originally.

This time, you couldn’t stop yourself from grabbing the top of Mikasa’s head when she wiggled her tongue into your leaking hole, experimenting with different movements and speeds to see what you reacted to.

Truthfully?

You didn’t care what she did. It all felt amazing. The pleasure coursing through your veins was white-hot and suffocating, leaving your brain blissfully empty, aside from the lingering thought of your talented and gorgeous best friend.

She was working magic on you. It was fucking insane to you that she was working you up this well and it was the first time she had ever done it. Though, you supposed it shouldn’t have been too shocking; Mikasa was naturally gifted in basically everything she did. Eating pussy was no exception.

Her lips and tongue were exceptionally soft yet firm, tracing unrecognizable shapes and patterns on and around your clit, alternating between playing with the sensitive bud and sucking at your entrance.

It was like she was everywhere, and in an essence, she was. Her mouth was occupied, but her hands were adventurous and worshipping, running up and down your legs and torso with something akin to reverence. You couldn’t take your eyes off of hers, not that you wanted to to begin with. The adoration and love in her eyes filled you with indescribable warmth, which when paired with some of the most intense pleasure you’ve ever felt in your life, catapulted you to the best orgasm you’ve ever had in minutes.

You came with a cry, thighs threatening to trap Mikasa’s head between them as your body shook from the intensity of it all. She worked you through it, keeping your legs wide open and eagerly lapping up everything that you gave her.

When you finally came down from your high, you felt your arms go limp, hand leaving Mikasa’s head and dropping to your stomach as you tried to catch your breath. Mikasa sat up, licking her lips before wiping the excess away with the back of her hand. She gazed down at you lovingly and crawled over you, capturing your lips in a soft kiss.

“Good?” she whispered questioningly as she pulled away, resting her forehead on yours.

You laughed in disbelief. “Good? Mik, that was the best orgasm I’ve ever had. If that was your first time, I’m almost scared to see what you’ll be like with practice.”

Mikasa laughed, loud and boisterous, hiding her face in the crook of your neck. You smiled to yourself, wrapping her lithe body in your arms and pulling her in closer.

“Well, only one way to find out,” she murmured in your ear, nipping at your earlobe.

“I’ve unleashed a monster,” you breathed out in mock-horror.

Both of you erupted in giggles, holding on to one another tightly.

“Thank you,” Mikasa said, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“I feel like I should be thanking you, love,” you responded, brushing her bangs out of her face. She smiled softly, kissing your palm.

“I think we both got pretty lucky.”

a/n: long time no see, lovelies! hope you enjoyed this :,,) i’ve been working on it for a long, LONG time because my writer’s block has been awful. i’m praying that it was worth the wait. if there are any mistakes or errors, just comment and i’ll try to fix them! <3

mikasa masterlist

aot masterlist

#bsstories #aot #aot fanfiction #aot smut #mikasa #mikasa ackerman smut #mikasa ackerman #mikasa x reader #smut #fluff #snk #shingeki no kyojin

[starplusfourletters]

Dark Force Rising rant incoming

So I’m open to the possibility that I am Enjoying the Media Incorrectly buuuuuuuuuuuuut Dark Force Rising is a comedy, right? Like, approaching a farce? If I were in charge of turning this into a movie my first step would be to get Chuck Jones on the line. But in that way I think it captures the OT energy perfectly because, like, the OT is very campy. I’d low-key started to forget that. Hey Disney I just remembered this is supposed to be fun

Come to Dark Force Rises we have:

Mara “No Really I’m Still Going to Kill Luke Skywalker” Jade. Mara “Imperial Policymaker” Jade. Mara “But I Thought I Was the Emperor’s Special-est Killing Machine” Jade. Mara “The Problem With the Modern Empire Is No One Trusts Each Other Anymore :’(” Jade. Mara “Exotic Dancer???” Jade. Mara “Has a Backdoor Access Code to All Imperial Star Destroyers and Is Somehow Still Bitter About Losing Her Position” Jade. She is nothing like what I expected and I love her

Luke “Lesbian Energy” Skywalker [Stand aside, Multiday Character Bonding Hiking Trip – Multiday Character Bonding Road Trip (in what I’m picturing as a Toyota Corolla) is coming]

Leia “What to Expect When You’re Expecting Everyone Else to Get on Your Motherfucking Level” Organa Solo

Han “The Clever One” Solo

Wedge “Fundamentally Just Some Guy” Antilles

Lando “Please Let This Be a Normal Field Trip” Calrissian

Taron “Work Friend Accidentally Becomes Real Friend” Karrde. Unfortunately he’s the only killable protag currently on the field soooooo

And then we have Thrawn. Poor sweet Thrawn. My guy. He’s playing 3D chess and everyone else – they’re not just eating the pieces, they’re losing the pieces entirely on accident. He’s always two steps ahead, but the protags have wandered off the trail because they saw something shiny. He sees the other characters start acting more and more erratic and he’s like “at last! My adversaries have developed a more intricate strategy!” and goes veering off in a different direction, and then smash cut to the protags being like “…wait he literally had us that time where did he go?” He’s flying circles around a New Republic plot that straight up doesn’t exist. He manages to capture the Falcon but ends up handing it to Luke as a gift-wrapped getaway car because of shenanigans he simply had no way to predict. He just wants an int-build playmate and every other character min/maxed charisma. He’s rapidly becoming my scrunkly meow meow

#dark force rising #mara jade #thrawn #star wars

[ewkiana]

“Love Drives a White Toyota Corolla”

I confused adventure for love.

I met Adventure on a cold evening in November when I was 21.

Adventure drives way too fast, in a white 2003 Toyota Corolla with broken door locks.

I always thought he would do something stupid, like crash into a tree or skid off the road on a rainy day,

and he did.

He drove way too fast and crashed straight into my chest and opened up a hole where a little glowing ball of light emerged

Adventure had rough calloused hands that I thought fit well interlaced in mine but maybe it was because I held on so tightly.

He only invited me to stay over at his house when his parents were out of town, sneaking around like we were 15 years old again, doing something we weren’t supposed to be doing.

I never liked the smell of vodka, until it was the scent that lingered on his breath as he whispered song lyrics into my ear like it was a promise that was only meant to be shared between the two of us.

Adventure confessed to me on a warm afternoon in July,

spur of the moment,

reckless,

just like how he did everything else in life.

This is what I thought love was:

sitting next to him, in the passenger seat of his white 2003 Toyota Corolla with broken door locks, parked illegally at the end of a dark, quiet cul de sac at 2 in the morning,

where every moment spent with him felt like both a second and an eternity.

I thought that the stars were more special on the nights that I was sat next to him.

This is what I thought love should be:

exciting and bright,

But if he and I were a tarot deck, he would be the sun and I would be the fool.

Because adventure was not love,

Love comes in many different forms and without knowing it, I’ve come to realize that I actually had it the whole time

I met Love in our middle school orchestra class when I was 12.

She played the violin and I played the cello.

Love is my best friend.

Adventure kept me awake every night, texting or calling until 4 in the morning,

but Love makes sure I’m in bed by 10 because she knows I have to be up early the next morning.

Adventure would go on long rants, talking about anything and everything for hours and hours, like I was his rubber duck,

but Love asks me how my day was.

Adventure made me feel like I was walking on air,

but Love was there to pull me back down to Earth.

Adventure told me I was irreplaceable,

but Love actually makes me feel like I am.

Adventure came and left my life like a song that I only heard once.

I remember the melody and sometimes I’m nostalgic for it but I can’t remember any of the words or the title of it so I’m left believing that I will never hear it again.

Love picks me up from the airport.

Love leaves 5 candles on the coffee table at all times.

Love parallel parks my car and drives through the drive-thru for me because she knows it makes me nervous.

Love cooks food for me because she knows I haven’t eaten yet.

Love makes me watch Korean dramas with her, even though she’s halfway through the season and I have no clue what’s going on.

Love never had to tell me she loved me, because there was never a doubt in my mind that she did.

Love drives at the speed limit (most of the time), in a white 2021 Toyota Corolla, with trash piling in the backseat and working door locks.

Love is like my favorite song that I have on repeat at the best moments in my life,

That I scream-sing in my car while driving down the freeway on my way home.

A song that I know all the words to by heart and is always my first choice at karaoke.

If she and I were a tarot deck, I’d be the sun and she’d be the magician,

reflecting the light in my chest back to me and amplifying it ten-fold.

She made me see that I don’t have to find the sun in someone else

because that light was inside of me all along.

[tossawary]

In regards to Shangjiu, why Original Shen Qingqiu could appeal to Shang Qinghua is more immediately obvious. He’s a tall, gorgeous, icy asshole with his own flavor of abandonment and trust issues. That’s kind of Shang Qinghua’s type. (Shen Qingqiu probably has some beef under those fancy robes, being an accomplished cultivator, though I don’t imagine him being anywhere near as incredibly built and heavy as Mobei-Jun. Mobei-Jun has beef beef.) 

So, it’s like, okay, why would Shang Qinghua ever appeal to Original Shen Qingqiu? Shang Qinghua is more average-looking as far as cultivators go and, more importantly, he’s a fucking clown. 

But you could ask that question about Mobei-Jun too. Why would Shang Qinghua ever appeal to Mobei-Jun? And I think the answer is actually pretty similar. Not exactly the same, of course, because Mobei-Jun and Original Shen Qingqiu are pretty different, but still remarkably similar: I think that it’s in part because Shang Qinghua is a fucking clown. 

Shang Qinghua has no issue with looking or acting pathetic. He will wail and sob and beg at a moment’s notice. (Which actually comes back to that “Shang Qinghua and Luo Binghe are... the same...” rant I’m still brewing. Neither of them seem all that bothered by humiliation. They have their own sense of internal worth/superiority and have no issue embarrassing themselves to manipulate other people and get what they want. Time to cry like a bitch? Bro, you’re making me do this; it doesn’t have to be this way! Airplane Bro just doesn’t have the super OP protagonist powers as backup for that.) 

Mobei-Jun and Shen Jiu are, especially by comparison, extremely concerned with appearances and specifically with appearing dignified. I think to some extent they would both actually envy Shang Qinghua’s ability to disregard (ignorance, sometimes? But also he doesn’t really give a shit) for social norms and/or expectations. Shang Qinghua has no room to judge Shen Jiu when he’s behaving like that, which kind of makes him safe. 

You know that hilarious 1999 Toyota Corolla Craigslist post? That’s kind of Airplane Shooting Towards The Sky in this situation. 

This car's got history. It's seen some shit. People have done straight things in this car. People have done gay things in this car. It's not going to judge you like a fucking Volkswagen would.

Shang Qinghua isn’t going to judge you like fucking Yue Qingyuan and Liu Qingge other people would. Shang Qinghua is like a judgement-free zone to some extent. He’s safe. You could embarrass yourself in front of him and it’s fine because Shang Qinghua is going to shove his foot into his mouth immediately afterward and allow himself to be bullied into “forgetting” it ever happened. 

At the same time, Shang Qinghua clown act is pretty clearly at least partially an act, at least if his terrible muttering habit and occasional bouts of spectacular competence are anything to go by. If Shang Qinghua was a 100% genuine fool instead of a clown putting on a show (who is occasionally a genuine fool), then Shen Jiu (and Mobei-Jun) wouldn’t be able to respect him. 

Shang Qinghua can also be a straight-up bitch, a bastard, and an asshole. (I still hold the headcanon that Mobei-Jun honestly thinks Shang Qinghua is very funny.) Shang Qinghua can have a sharp tongue sometimes and bite back viciously - or at least bark back viciously - which is another thing Shen Jiu can probably respect. Shang Qinghua doesn’t put on airs about being better than anyone or noble and righteous. He talks shit properly. 

Shang Qinghua is also pretty reliable. He’s steady and supportive. He’s also cool with laying on the flattery to soothe any fragile egos! And he’s apparently cool with being bossed around and rescued! 

So, on that post where I was talking about Shang Qinghua seducing Shen Jiu through stories of bad or comedically disastrous sex stories for my Shangjiu Friends with Benefits AU, why would Shen Jiu find that appealing?! 

It’s because Shang Qinghua is clearly observant, wryly funny, knows a lot about sex, uninterested in romance, and also uninterested in pushing his partner around in an unpleasant way. (I think Shang Qinghua and Luo Binghe both like being in control of the situation, but that they also don’t mind giving up control or giving over at least some control to their partners.) Also, clearly, Shang Qinghua is desperate and pathetic and has low standards, which makes him “safe” for someone looking for some no-strings experimentation and relief. 

He’s also not... not cute? 

Also, he’s the one who brought up all those sexual acts in great detail - incredibly graphic detail - so now they’re stuck in Shen Jiu’s head. 

Shang Qinghua needs to take responsibility for that. And then tell no one that this ever happened - anyway, no one will ever believe him and also Shen Jiu will kill him. If it’s bad, Shen Jiu can also just kill him. 

Shang Qinghua: (internally) “Note to self: bro, stop getting hung up on beautiful assholes who are incredibly mean to me.” 

#shangjiu #shangjiu benefits fic #tossawary svsss #shang qinghua #shen jiu #luo binghe #mobei jun #moshang

[genshingarbage]

Can i request skincare night with da boys? (Whichever character u want) 💖

Ohoho~ A spa day is well deserved I think! Since you haven’t picked a character I’ll do the ones most likely to do skincare with their s/o. Enjoy your spa day with the boys~ - Mod Kaeya

Reccomending this song for these HCs! 

Kaeya

- He’s the King of spa days, expect only the best routines and products because he dabbled in it for awhile when he was a bit younger, he knows the inns and outs and a couple of little secrets about things you wouldn’t think of initially

- Kaeya would literally kill for glaze lilies and mist flower corolla because their medicinal properties for skincare in particular are legendary

- He has a whole stash he ends up sharing with you during the night

- He even mixes a fresh face mask for you from all the ingredients he has hidden away in cupboards catered to your needs and any allergies you might have

- Talks through the whole thing about a bunch of harmless gossip he’s heard about the tavern or things you’d find interesting that he’s happened to have read up on during breaks at the office

- Will 100% leave you for a moment to do something else real quick so you’re just confused and covered in facemask while it’s dead quiet and He Should Be Behind You but he’s not

- He’s gonna tie his hair back before letting you do his facemask and then scrunch up his nose all cute whenever you tickle him

- The type to laugh a little at everything while you’re doing his mask because his eyes are closed and he doesn’t know what to do with himself about it

- After you’re waiting for them to do their thing he’ll grab some water and the two of you can talk about everything and nothing and hang out in your pjs until you’re ready to wash the masks off

- Little finger snacks and of course more gossip because the man has fountains of tea he’s not been able to rant with anyone about for years and guys it’s like a god damn unsolved mysteries episode because it’s less “shawty’s dating trevor now” and more “did you know the viscount is apart of that cult that sells organs” and it is the most interesting shit you’ve heard all week

- You tell him he should write a book series

- He agrees

- You’ll he surprised to find he’s already ran a nice steamy bath for you complete the night, it’s got some candles and some salts he happened to have left over, just relax and take in the scented candles and stuff because the guy knows how to treat people to a good spa day

- You two will probably fall asleep after you’re both done in there, swaddled in bath robes and cramped on the couch together with not a care in the world about the stresses of life

- He’ll offer another time if he starts to see you’re stressing out a bit too much and he’s getting worried

Zhongli

- He’s never been one to do this sort of thing at all to be quite honest

- He’d be more inclined to hair and scale treatments if that makes sense and those sorts of ones are beyond your expertise (especially in the divine sense)

- Zhongli’s interested though don’t get me wrong, he for sure wants to try this out because it’s something a lot of mortals do as a part of routine and that’s kind of what he’s aiming to be at this time

- Will do everything you say to the letter, follow you around the cupboards and kitchen and bathroom like a puppy whilst you get ready because he wants to help but doesn’t know how just yet

- He’ll get the hang of it though

- He’s eager to learn

- Won’t squirm or anything during the application because he’s a good boy

- “This is…peculiar?”

- “Is it supposed to feel stiff?” “Yeah you just have to wash it off now” “Marvelous.”

- If you have any lotions or moisturizers made out of silk flowers he’d looove those after the face masks are done oh my god

- He keeps touching his face and smiling a lil because it’s so smooth now

- You won’t know it but he’ll be recommending facemasks to the adepti who live in Liyue among the mortals now, not to be rude but for the sake or relaxation and My s/o’s a genius feel my face

- Gonna deep dive research into this sort of thing afterwards because he wants to help you find a wide variety of stuff to use and add to your routine

- He likes to help you out if he happens to walk in and sees you’ve got one on so don’t feel guilty if he offers to do any work you have or even massage your feet while you relax honestly

- Catch him using his own lil pot of moisturizer in the mornings now

- It’s really cute

- Everytime you catch him doing it he gives you a grin and goes back to what he’s doing

- If you offer to do a spa night again he’s gonna say yes without hesitation and bring his own stuff to try now

Venti

- Verrrryyy curious so no doubtedly says yes from the getgo

- He’s been seeing you apply it basically every morning on the weekends and never pried but is really happy you’re sharing it with him now

- Somehow looks better than you even with a facemask on and with his hair done up to keep it out of the way

- Will of course want a bunch of snacks to demolish whilst the two of you wait, if by any chance you want to do his nails you’re gonna have to wait until after he’s done lol

- He’s gonna ask for pickles to put on his eyes because that’s all he knows about this stuff but he’s gonna forget that he was gonna put them on his eyes and eat them I’m ngl

- If your facemask is the type that smells weird he’s gonna comment on that basically the whole time for shits and giggles

- He’s gonna want bright blue nails btw to match his hair but if you can do a gradient do like a bright blue to a slight navy and he’ll loose his shit

- He’s likely to wear outfits that compliment the awesome nails his s/o just gave him for the next month I’m gonna be real

- If he chips them he’s gonna be upset until you offer to do them again because you did them out of the kindness of your heart and the looked reALLY good

- Venti’s not really good at all this stuff because he’s kinda lazy when it comes to taking care of himself but it was a really nice treat for him and he may ask again or try to treat you to a couple of products he borrowed from Kaeya on days you’re stressed

- Would 1000% by them for you if you’re too busy to pick one up, even if it’s at some really feminine store hell the guy would probably even pick up some lady products if you need them

- He’s not the kind to get embarrassed easily so if you end up getting a visitor whilst doing this he’ll answer the door half dressed and with the full mask on

- His skin was already borderline perfect before, now it’s just astronomically beautiful thanks to you

- You’ve created a monster now because he’s charmed every man and woman in Mondstat now

Childe

- May take a bit of convincing because he’s been taught that’s a really feminine thing to do, not really something guys do but will probably relent in the end because he’s curious and it’d make you happy

- If you offer to do something for him in exchange he'll do it a lot more eagerly ngl

- Will 1000% be converted at the end of the night because Holy Shit his skin has never been so soft before and he looks like a badass? He gets girls now, he looks like a god, he feels like a bitchy prom queen now

- “You’re just mad my skin’s better than yours Signora, all that exposure cryo can’t be good for it.”

- Oh yes he’s gonna start shit over this, you’ve just given him all the ammo he needs

- He’s gonna want to do this whenever you are now and if you don’t think you’re gonna wake up to him with a bunch of expensive looking bags with brands of skincare stuff you’ve only heard of in dreams then you’re wrong

- May end up getting a designated spa room in your house if you’re not careful

- He may not understand your selfcare voodoo magic but he supports it a million percent

- “Childe I need to get exfoliator” “I like your funny words magic man, say no more”

- You may come home to random presents to do with skincare when he’s too busy with work because be thought of you whilst passing a store so he bought it

- This also goes for if he happens to hear you talking about something you need/want

- But as for the actual night in question he’s going to pleas that you pin his hair up and then ask if you have any hair treatments in a sky way because he’s not sure if that’s a Thing People Do

- He’ll be a little squeamish around it but it’s mostly for comedic effect…mostly

- Don’t you dare come near him with that weird mud mask mud belongs on the floor damnit

- Childe probably won’t like applying your mask because the texture feels really funny which is sad because he’s actually got a delicate touch, you barely feel him applying it and it’s almost expertly done

- He’s gonna forget he has it on dont let him fall asleep, force him into the bath first ok? Okay cool

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin headcannons #headcannons #kuzuha #diluc #kaeya #xiao #albedo #zhongli #childe #tartagalia #x reader #kaeya headcannons #childe headcannons #tartagalia headcannons #genshin blog #headcannon blog #fluff #genshin fluff #Kuzuha fluff #kaeya fluff #venti #venti headcannons #venti fluff

[undermattsun-archive]

taste

(skate rat) kawanishi taichi x fem!reader | w.c 3.5k

a/n: SURPRISE it’s a sequel to mouth <3 my original skate rat sin i suppose, and also like my first real fic/drab for the fandom. god bless. as always thank u to @bakatenshii​ + @sugardaddykenma​ for putting up with me ranting about this fic (and also putting up with me since mouth)

big big thanku to #1 wife @pomsuki​ for reading this for me and yelling at me to finish this damn thing <3

18+ university age | pls read ALL warnings

warnings: drugs, public sex, dub/noncon exhibitionism, degredation, humiliation, dubcon, blood, slight injury (it’s a bloody nose), toxic behavior, misogynistic energy? vibes? you’ll know when u see it honestly

reading mouth isn’t necessary but it is appreciated! and pls check out melt + nightingale syndrome for they exist in the same skate rat universe (+ they’re delicious fics) also the people who wrote em r BIG SEXY

There were more than enough reasons to quit Kunimi Akira. He never texts back, he doesn’t go to class, he’s fucked a few of your friends and he couldn’t commit if you paid him. He was simply a waste of time, it was like every second spent with him was another mark ticked off a test, a percentile lowering on your next paper.

But chucking Kunimi would be like trying to sort grains of rice, difficult and damn near impossible. He always knew how to draw you back in and he enjoyed the mind games a lot more than his bored expression would let on. 

Despite the impossibility of quitting him you had to at least try, so you swore up and down that hooking up with him at Oikawa’s party some odd months ago was truly the last of it, that you were done with him and all of his irritating skate rat friends.

Which begs the question of how you ended up at the little concrete amphitheater on campus, sandwiched between Hanamaki and Matsukawa on one of the steps, a blunt being passed between the two of them without so much as a second glance towards you.

“Say, when’s the last time you and Kunimi had fun?” Makki’s grin is nothing short of lascivious, a slimy feeling weighs on your tongue as you shrug off a shudder.

“Say, was that ever any of your business?” You retort, snatching the blunt from his lips bringing it to your own and inhaling deeply, revelling at the warmth creeping down your throat and filling your chest. 

“Quit it Makki, she’s not gonna fuck you. Kunimi got her ‘round his little finger,” Mattsun coos, taking back the blunt, “besides, heard she’s a fuckin ice queen in the sack. Boooring.”

A sharp inhale keeps you grounded, the sound of Iwaizumi’s board slamming back down onto the pavement reminding you where you are, who you’re with. You’re not going to fall for Mattsun’s little games too.

“Tch.” Daggers prick at your lips, but you bite your tongue knowing that fueling the fire will earn you nothing but a headache. It’s not like you’re waiting for anything, or anyone, stealing a few more hits and leaving would be the best option.

“Oh? Nothing to say? But I heard your mouth was your only redeeming quality.” You focus your gaze on Iwaizumi telling Oikawa to stay out of his way, trying not to let your growing discomfort scare you away. The stubborn refusal of letting Mattsun’s words win only letting a dull ache grow at the base of your skull, prickling further when he and Makki let out low mocking laughs.

“Hey fucknuts!” Your head whips over to see a blur of crimson race by, followed gradually by a few other familiar faces you’ve seen around at parties and on campus.

“God, not these assholes.” Makki laughs as Oikawa makes faces at one of the newcomers. Your eyes drag across the unfolding scene as the number of rowdy idiots grows. You swallow hard, knowing that staying any longer would only cause your headache to further bloom.

“That’s my cue to leave.” You sigh, it’s not like you were waiting for Kunimi in the first place. You weren’t. You were just...killing time.

“Leaving?” Your head tips back to look up at the source of the question, Kawanishi Taichi, of course. 

“Yeah, dunno why I’m here in the first place.” You brush off his quirked brow and shove Mattsun hard with your shoulder as you stand up. With a curt nod, you smooth a hand over your jeans, turning on your heel to brush past Kawanishi, ignoring the low whistle that falls from his lips. You make it a good distance down the walkway before the sound of crunching footsteps behind you prickles at your ears as you ready yourself to tell whoever it is to get lost. 

“Want a ride?” You let out a huff as you look over your shoulder to see Kawanishi standing so nonchalantly, hands tucked into his pockets as he chews on a toothpick.

“Shouldn’t you be skating around with your little boyfriends?” The comment slips out, followed by your tongue sliding over your bottom lip as if it’ll soften the sharpness of your tone. 

“Nah, just droppin 'em off,” his eyes rake up and down your figure as you turn to face him, “where’s yours?”

“My what?”

“Your little boyfriend. You were waiting there like a lost puppy for him.” A protest rises in your chest, curbing it when you see a flash of something akin to flirtatious teasing in his normally passive eyes. 

“I... I don’t have one.” The words are slathered in honey, punctuated with a flutter of your lashes as Kawanishi takes another step forward. 

If Kunimi likes playing all those stupid games, why not play a few of your own?

“Is that so?” His head tilts slightly, you feign shyness, fiddling with the hem of your shirt as you smile sweetly at him, confirming your statement with a nod of your head. “My car’s just over in the parking lot.” He tips his head in the direction of the closest lot, before turning to start walking. Without hesitation you easily fall into step beside him, trying to dampen your rising nerves.

Despite the dumb little hookups peppering your dating history, you had only gone so far with most of them, Kunimi being one of the few —and the only one you crawled back to— that you had made the unfortunate pleasure of going all the way with. You keep pushing away at the thoughts of inexperience as Kawanishi approaches an old, beat up, black Corolla, the paint flaking off with dings and dents littering across the body, the impeccably shiny rims on the wheels making you snort. 

It was a rather famous car across campus, seeing it around with stupid skate rats crammed in there with the windows fogged with smoke was an almost daily occurrence, especially highlighted by how it’s tied to one too many stories of girls having varying encounters with Kawanishi –and sometimes one of his friends– in said car.

“Wanna smoke or skip to the real fun?” He never minced any words, always up front or just completely skipping out on the conversation. It always made him the best project partner in the odd classes you’ve shared over your uni years.

“I don’t like waiting.” The fuzziness nipping at your spine from the few hits you took earlier were just enough, not wanting to dull your senses completely during this encounter. The bluntness of your answer causes a smirk to play at Kawanishi’s lips as he opens the door to the back.

“Well then, ladies first.” He gestures to the gray cloth seats, you make a point to ignore the questionable stains littered across it as you slide in, trying to focus instead on figuring out the heady scent permeating through the car. Cheap cologne, cigarettes, weed and maybe stale beer, and something that was distinctly him. 

Your eyes are drawn to a stain on the roof that looks oddly similar to an eagle, the thought unfinished as Kawanishi practically dives in after you. The sound of the door slamming preempting hands roaming over your body and lips moving against your neck. 

“Kawa-”

“Just Taichi.” He clips as he works the buttons of your jeans, a coarse hand working against your spine as he unhooks your bra.

“Eager much?” You laugh as he pushes at your shirt and bra exposing pert nipples to cool air, simultaneously managing to work your jeans past your hips and down your thighs.

“You said no waiting.” With a chaste kiss to your lips he’s maneuvering you onto your stomach, raising your hips in the air, face shoved halfway between the seat and door.  You let out a huff as your hand braces itself against the door, while the other on the seat below you, trying to find some semblance of comfort in the cramped setting.

“Mhm.” It’s the best reply you can manage as he grinds his clothed cock against the cleft of your ass, already hard. You can only imagine how many women he’s had in this situation to award all six feet and three inches of himself the ability to move so successfully around in the cramped backseat. 

Nimble and worn fingers circle around your hip, dipping down to tease at dampening lace, eliciting a soft moan from you. You push back against him, delighting in the soft grunt he lets out as he curls himself over you to scrape his teeth over your nape. His fingers continue to run up and down against your clothed cunt, pressing at the growing slick spot marking your wanting hole.

“Excited huh?” He mumbles as he skims his tongue against the shell of your ear, you manage a low hum in reply as he slides his hands back up, tugging down the flimsy piece of clothing, exposing your needy cunt to hungry eyes. He wastes no time pressing his fingers against your twitching hole, causing you to wiggle your hips just enough to earn a low chuckle and send the message of just how much you want him, need him. 

Without any further hesitation he slips in a finger, your back arching with the realization his fingers are longer than Kunimi’s, chest burning at the fact you could even think of another man in this situation. As if he can sense your wandering thoughts Taichi works in another finger, another following quickly after. There’s no urgency in his movements, each twist and thrust of his fingers methodical, curling in just the right way, making sure to brush his thumb over your throbbing clit to send a stinging pleasure up your spine. 

You can’t deny the way he’s taking you apart so sweetly, the tightening deep in your belly achingly sweet, as he starts to thrust his fingers even deeper, tiny gasps and whines starting to grow louder and louder as you careen towards bliss. With a particularly rough curl of his fingers you feel yourself come undone completely, punctuated by a shameless moan.

The sound of knuckles tapping against the fogged glass pulls you out of your blissful haze, still acutely aware of the way Taichi has his fingers lazily twisting inside of you. 

“It’s open.” He tugs you back by the hips slightly as he retracts his fingers painfully slow, listening as he unzips his jeans. Your heart races as the passenger door opens, shifting uncomfortably to try to catch a glimpse of who’s slid into the car.

“Oh, so that’s where you went, Mattsun said you were hanging around.” Your blood runs cold, your state of undress tightening your chest as you become painfully aware of the situation you’re in. The passive tone of Kunimi’s voice nips at your skin, tears away at the search of mindless fun that you had tried to pursue with Taichi, filling your chest with raw embarrassment.

“What do you want?” The tear of a wrapper following the question, whatever protest you had silenced by a hand coming down to grip harshly at your ass.

“You have my grinder.” Kunimi slips into the passenger seat, the sound of the glove box popping open making your eyes squeeze shut. 

“Yeah well close the door at least.” Your eyes widen at Taichi’s statement, you didn’t want Kunimi to just close the door, you wanted him to leave.

“Whatever. Can I smoke in here?” It doesn’t sound like much of a question, more of a declaration with the ‘can’ and the question mark tacked on for decoration.

“I don’t care, do you?” You crane your head just enough to catch the blasé expression on Taichi’s face, a quirked brow directed more at your ass than you.

“Yeah sweetheart, care if I’m in here while you’re whoring yourself out?” Kunimi scoffs, the irritated tinge to his bored tone making you furrow your brows.

“Oh fuck you.” You start to rise on your elbows, only for Taichi’s hand to land between your shoulder blades, keeping you from moving any further. You let out a huff as Kunimi clicks his tongue in feigned disappointment.

“Sorry babe, it’s me who’s fucking you this time around, maybe Kunimi can get the next round.” Before you can even bother with a retort, Taichi drags the head of his cock against slick folds, teasing at your entrance. You let your head hang down, the click of a lighter grating on your nerves more than you would like to admit. 

“Please, fuck me, I want it so bad.” The whininess of your voice annoys even you, but if Kunimi wants to stick around and get on your nerves, then two could play that game. 

“Since you asked so nicely.” Just like before he slides in slowly, carefully, as if to make you memorize what each inch of him feels like splitting you apart so sweetly.

“Shit.” You exhale shakily as you try to adjust to him, it had been months since you last fucked anyone, since you last fucked the asshole sitting passenger.

He sets a leisurely pace, steady and infuriating. There’s a hand clamped down on your hip, fingers digging in painfully to keep you in place, to establish that he’s the one calling all the shots. You huff, still trying to buck your hips to meet his thrusts. There’s something in his actions that makes you feel greedy, desperate for so much more than he’s offering.

There’s no way around it, you’re completely at his mercy, left taking the shallow, slow thrusts that only makes the desperate ache deep in your cunt grow.

“Hook a finger or two in her mouth.” There’s a pause in Taichi’s motions, letting you finally take a deep breath of the thick weed laced air. “Don’t look at me funny, do it and see what happens.”

You hear a non-committal hum as those devilishly nimble fingers skim past your jaw, a whimper preceding his index pushing past your lips with a harsh tug at the corner of your mouth, the painful stretch of your cheek causing you to clench down on his length.

“Oh? You were right.”

“She’s already broken in,” Kunimi takes a long drag of the joint hanging in his fingers, “no point in holding back.” 

It’s as if a flip is switched in Taichi, the statement becoming an immediate challenge as he hooks in another finger beside the other, yanking harshly as the snap of his hips becomes almost painful. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the car, swirling with the heady smoke defiling the air. 

“W-Wait Taichi.” The words are garbled around his fingers, and you’re quickly dismissed as he snakes around his other hand to hook his middle and index on the other corner of your mouth, the stretch in your lips burning as he shifts from the quick paced thrusts to deep, hard strokes.

His only reply is to tug harshly on your mouth as pathetic whines and distored words spill from you. 

You can feel yourself start to shake almost violently, still reeling from your earlier orgasm and suffering at the hands of Taichi’s now vicious pace. Each thrust pushing you into madness, each tug of his fingers bringing you back. 

“Fuck, fuck.” He curls over you again, sloppily running his tongue up your nape. “You wanna cum?” 

“Mhmm,” you yelp at a particularly rough slam of his hips, “please.”

He grunts, moving a hand to grip at the back of your head while keeping his other hand planted on your hip, fingers biting into your hip. There’s no warning as he grinds into you, the hold on your hip finally relenting as he slides his digits back down to pinch at your throbbing clit, the bit of pressure sending you careening over the edge.

“T-Taichi.” Pleasure wracks through your body, your legs tremble violently as you try to move your hand on the door, shoulder aching from holding yourself in place. The second your hand moves, you give into the force of Taichi’s hand on the back of your head, forcing you to slam face first into the door, the impact making your nose sting, blood immediately starting to gush, running down your face and chin. 

You’re not sure if he doesn’t notice or doesn’t care as he continues his assault, the once careful, methodical thrusts turning desperate and depraved as he moves with reckless abandon. His teeth drag across your shoulder, before pulling out completely.

“Don’t need this.” You grip at your nose, trying to ignore the disgusting feeling of blood seeping onto your fingers, looking over your shoulder again to see Taichi pull off the condom. You can’t even protest with the way you’re bleeding profusely, pinching at your bridge at a poor attempt of stopping the bleeding.

“Stay still.” In one swift movement he’s plunging back into you, bottoming out immediately, a muffled yell falls from your lips, arching your back as he drives into you with just a few more hard thrusts you feel his seed spill inside you. 

For a moment you two stay suspended, the head of his cock nudging against your cervix, making you groan in a twisted sense of pleasure of pain. He pulls out painfully slow, delivering another harsh slap your ass as he sits back.

“Oh, sorry ‘bout your nose.” He helps you flip onto your back, swiping his thumb over the blood trickling onto your lip before shucking off his t-shirt and handing it to you. “Don’t have any tissues.” 

“So who’d you like playing fuck toy for better?” For a split second, somewhere between the back breaking orgasm and your nose being slammed into the door, you had blissfully forgotten that Kunimi was still in the car, but now that perfect illusion just had to be shattered.

“Must you be such a dick all the time?” You manage to pull your jeans back up, hissing at the stinging pain in your hips and lower back, ignoring the lewd feeling of Taichi’s cum starting to leak from your abused cunt. 

Beside you Taichi manages to tuck himself back into his pants, reaching under the driver's seat to yank out a hoodie reeking of weed and cigarettes.

“Maybe you two should just get together already.” Taichi lets out a low chuckle as he pulls on the hoodie, getting out of the backseat, slamming the door hard before throwing the driver’s door open. You don’t even bother trying to hook your bra back on as you pull your shirt down, letting yourself slump back down and lay across the backseat as you reach up to check if your nose is still bleeding.

“Like hell.” Kunimi twists around in the passenger seat, looking down at you with an amused smirk, offering the freshly rolled joint to you. “You look like shit. I said she was broken in, not to break her more.” He only gets a wry laugh from Taichi as he starts the car.

“Thanks, right back at you.” You sit up just enough, looking at Kunimi expectantly. He shakes his head before twisting the joint in his fingers and placing it between your lips, producing the lighter. Just as he’s about to hand it to you he brings his hand back a bit, grabbing your jaw with his other as he lights the joint. He picks up Taichi’s bloodied shirt, pouring water from a twisted plastic bottle onto it before passing it back to you.

“Cute, blew her back out and you’re doting on her.” You watch as Kunimi moves to sit back in his seat, not even bothering to spare you a second glance as he shrugs. You dab away at the drying blood on your face, ignoring a few of the splotches that landed on the joint.

“Guess I play favorites, drop us off at my place.” 

“Us?” You exhale after a long drag, narrowing your eyes at the back of Kunimi’s head as Taichi pulls out of the parking spot.

“What do I even get out of doing that?” You can’t help but nod in agreement of Taichi’s statement, feeling yourself growing annoyed at the way they seem to ignore your entire presence.

“You can fuck her again.” Kunimi offers and you almost drop the joint as your jaw falls open at the absolute nerve of the man. 

“Excuse me? I’m right here?” The way that neither of them even flinch at your statement, let alone acknowledge it makes you slump back into the seat, begrudgingly accepting the fact whatever you say isn’t worth shit to either of them.

“Hm.” It doesn’t sound like he’s actually considering the offer, but the quick look over his shoulder as he turns out of the parking lot sends a chill down your spine and your stomach to twist.

“Believe it or not, her mouth’s her one redeeming quality.” The two of them snicker, like two old pals sharing an inside joke.

“Shut the fuck up.” You’re brushed off once again as they toss back a few more comments before Taichi stops at a red light, looking over at Kunimi, then back at you and finally back towards the road.

“Yeah alright.”

#miki writes #tw drugs #tw dubcon #tw exhibitionism #tw dubcon exhibitionism #tw noncon exhibitionism #tw noncon #tw degradation #tw humiliation #tw injury #tw blood #thank u for yelling at me pommeth #like forreal #i've been big struggling w writing this #and keeping motivation #skdjfhkj i considered just #dashing this completely #woof #also we as a collective need to wanna fuck taichi more #like forreal he's so fucking pretty #and just #doesn't care about shit #also he's a sexie bartender???? #sir?????? #skate rat hq

[kissesandcream]

chalk and talcum.,

kreideprinz ; albedo

— • request from anon : the life in being the chalk prince’s sibling, and in turn the sibling of everyone he surrounds

gn reader || sibling ! reader || headcanon format || 600 words

; masterlist.,

; a / n - i am on a roll with these sibling hcs oml 😎 but it’s really thanks to y’all for giving me such sweet ideas!! 

• i think the lovely part of being close with albedo would be the fact that though he’s an introvert, so many people care about him and are his found family

• it’s very wholesome; there’s klee, alice, kaeya, sucrose, timaeus, jean- if you know albedo you pretty much know the entirety of mondstadt too

• you’ve also been everywhere in mondstadt too!! anon mentioned doing alchemy with him, so i’d assume you’re his apprentice, or the two of you work side by side- and albedo does his research in a lot of different places so it’s only natural you would too

• dragonspine is like your second home, the two of you camp out there quite a bit- he can’t feel the cold very much but it took you some time to get used to

• once, when the two of you were trekking up the mountain, he looked back to find you have frozen and had to carry you the rest of the way up

• you somehow lost your shoes as well, your feet were so numb you couldn’t feel them fall off, so he had to give you his and walk around in soggy socks no not based off personal experiences ahahaha

• klee!! alice!! y’all are the sweetest family ever- though you and albedo squabble over who distracts klee while the other does experiments

• you tried doing them alongside her once.... never again 😃

• jean may have insisted paying for all the blown up equipment but it was not something either of you were looking forward to doing again

• klee may have innocently destroyed a lot of your stuff but she’s still the sweetest little sister ever- she insists on holding both your’s and his’s hands while you take her out to the city

• sometimes she makes the three of you form a little train, so it’s the three of you conga training through the city as everyone watches, amused

• albedo does everything with zero expression on his face so it’s the most hilarious thing ever, an overzealous child, a teenager and an empty adult cha cha cha-ing past the city walls

• i think albedo would really like sibling bands, the kind you wear like bracelets, so me makes the two of you a pair that you never take off

• ur besties with sucrose!! she loves to ramble to you and albedo, the three of you break into random alchemical rants while doing ordinary things it’s slightly concerning

• sara will never recover from the day the three of you took a whole hour ordering because you kept going on tangents about the ingredients in the food

• “mist flower corolla is best harvested in the rain!” “slime condensate is purest in anemo slimes!” ma’am this is a good hunter’s may i have ur order

• kaeya’s voicelines about albedo... everyone has a crush on him... and everyone either a) crushes on you or b) subtly asks if you can hook them up with him there is literally no inbetween

• “albedo another person wants to go out with u” “oh thats nice. anyways put the butterfly wings in the broth-”

• ITS SO FUNNY PLS you, albedo, kaeya and diluc- mondstadt’s main causes of swooning

• y’all fall asleep on each other a lot- at first it was so you wouldn’t freeze to death in dragonspine but now you just casually waltz into his room if you need some rest

• he savours the moments he spends with you!! with him, it’s just being around each other, yk?? you don’t need to talk, or anything- just each others’ presence <3

#; gargoyle scriptures #albedo x reader #albedo headcanons #albedo #genshin x reader #genshin headcanons #genshin scenarios #albedo scenarios #albedo drabbles #genshin drabbles #albedo kreideprinz #genshin albedo #genshin impact

[dissonance-in-a-major]

(hxh) PHANTOM TROUPE // KURTA CLAN theory

...debunking PT did it

So let me preface this by saying this was 100% inspired by a tiktok comment in a hxh phantom troupe's religious symbolism video back in 2021 (:/). The person who commented made such an impact I screenshotted their comments which unfortunately are not in correct order and messaged them this year (i just know they think im weird) but they never responded. I'd give their @ but its their government name (I take it) so msg me for deets. All credit goes to them as I'm just polishing and tidying these thoughts.

First op talks about Meteor City, a junkyard city inhabited by outcasts. People who live there do not exist on any official records and are treated horribly from the outside, people are taken from Meteor City for crimes, prostitution, slavery and no one's doing a thing to stop it. People go outside and face racism, like the one guy accused of a crime he didnt commit and when the truth is shown no one does anything (think op meant The Bum Incident, vol 11, Chapter 102). These people get no justice, they're just used and this is where the duality of Chrollo comes in, he is a demon to the outside world because he is challenging the gods but also a Jesus figure for the underprivileged Meteor City. Even his reverse St Peters Cross on his jacket means that he feels unworthy to be crucified in the same manner as Jesus. Thats his way of saying he doesnt see himself as worthy of savior. His priority is the Troupe so they can together be seen to the outside world, they are literally a troupe of phantoms, trying to be recognized. This is why when he asks Neon if she believes in ghosts and she says no, she is the oppressor that doesn't understand the one hurt.

If you read the story with this idea in mind you start to observe that the Troupe only attacks people hazardous for the City (mafia, ants) or when they want revenge for one of them killed so its weird they are presented in a positive almost heroic light. Only exception that sticks out to the story? Kurta massacre.

The og commenter wondered why it was that the Troupe was always presented in a positive light. We've known the Phantom Troupe does acts of good alongside the bad but we also haven't seen anything entirely "evil" commited by any of them yet. Most of the legends surrounding them are hearsay. And though they could have easily killed Gon and Killua, they don't, twice. Also, Uvogin when taken by mafia/Kurapika says if freed, they wouldn't hurt them as they are not the target.

Op comments on how narrative should be filtered as its being commented via Gon- a non objective source, they claim that the 1st arc feels like a kid show whereas chimera arc feels dark, thats not to say it is actually like that but as Gon's perspective changes so does the narration. At first when innocent people die, he doesnt really care but in chimera we need a narrator to explain as Gon is too biased at that point. Regarding the massacre we only have Kurapika's word but what we are being told/shown about the Troupe is different. The characters talk about the Kurta massacre, how horrible and brutal it was but the narrative is keen and favors the Troupe, it paints them in a favorable light and why should the narrative do that, they don't become better people like the Ants after all.

From the moment they appear on screen, the narrative wants us to see them as underprivileged, both in York New and in the ship, even when they're fighting in Meteor City, they're fighting for injustice or when somebody hurts them. Then why justify their actions everytime they appear on screen if they massacred the Kurta Clan? If they are responsible for this why make them the underprivileged representation? Both Kurta and Troupe says the op are ostracized by the outside and seen less from people.

Say they did it. 3 ideas were proposed as to why.

1. for the eyes (Chrollo likes the eyes, like Hisoka said but Hisoka is a liar and also Chrollo has never shown interest in the show for them. For someone who steals things he likes, why make an exception and murder here?)

2. for money (that's not correct, we are told multiple times they don't care about it, neither money nor fame, they want to be recognized by the world but how would that work by killing a clan that's been hidden for 100 years, they dont get anything out of it.)

3. for revenge: Revenge for what? Kurta are a peaceful clan that hide for years. We know the Troupe left a note that is the motto of Meteor City (I'm adding here what op referred to: "we reject no one so take nothing from us"). Op says note means they serve justice to their city, when someone takes things away from them so what did Kurta take? From the thematic and narrative point they are not set up to have done it, op thinks thats 100% intentional.

Like said above, BOTH have the thematic of oppression from the outside world, they are a commodity for the rich and powerful (gods) but why is Phantom Troupe put in the light of both, the oppressor and the oppressed? Why would an oppressed group oppress another one for NO good reason? The Troupe doesn't kill innocent people if not necessary, they do NOT care about money or fame and the revenge aspect doesnt work because the Kurta were isolated from the outside.

If we look back at the York New Arc they never state the massacre, they simply suggest it and of course from a Kurapika POV they are guilty but if you look again you have to ask..are they really?

☆

this took ages for me to coherently formulate and ik it goes back and forth but bless op's heart because it changed my perspective completely (more than any yt analysis found online) !

#hunter x hunter #chrollo lucilfer #phantom troupe #kurapika kurta #kurta clan theory #hxh chrollo #hxh 2011 #hxh kurapika #hxh hisoka #hxh manga #hxh spoilers #corolla/rants

[mocharadio]

Now Playing(Title): Genshin Boys Faves! (Headcanons)

Requested By: Anon!

Song Artists(characters): Kaeya, Diluc, Venti, Albedo, Xiao, Childe, and Zhongli

Lyrics(Summary): I don't know if I did this EXACTLY how Anon wanted me to but basically just a headcanon list of our fave genshin boys' foods, drinks, flowers, etc etc! (Some are canon, though)

Explicit?(warnings): no beta we die like Childe's sanity, lowercase on purpose

A/N: This is my 1st time writing anything (that wasn't from last year or for a school project) so I apologize if it's a little...wonky. But I hope you guys like it regardless! ngl you can tell i started getting a little tired halfway so im sorry </33

Kaeya:

Food: don't know if it's particularly canon or not, but I'd say his fave is the chicken mushroom skewer! Specifically his own specialty, whether it's cooked by him or not!

Drink: we already know it's Death After Noon, but I feel like he'd also like Rose Champagne as well :]

Flower: the Calla Lilly for sure! It's part of his ascension materials, it only makes sense

Activity: honestly? I feel like whenever he finds time (aka not working or wine tasting) he just lays back on the couch (or bed) and listens to music. it's his quiet time!

Animal: DOGGIES!! He likes how loyal, friendly and cuddly most of them are, I feel like he'd especially be a golden retriever lover, and in his rare vulnerable moments will just cuddle his dog while crying to himself or ranting <333

Diluc

Food: Pile Em' Up! he probably thinks it's the best food to ever exist ever, hence why he made his own specialty, so he could enjoy it even more! ^^

Drink: Grape juice, duh, but I feel like he'd also be very fond of Cranberry Juice!

Flower: Lamp Grass!

Activity: not gonna lie? Probably just sleeping if he isnt playing Chess. Poor mans is working almost 24/7 HE NEEDS A BREAK!! Let him rest

Animal: also dogs! i think he'd prefer a dog that isnt super duper hyper though, like just a little more chill but still affectionate regardless ^^ Something like a Saint Bernard maybe

Venti

Food: he has two all time faves; A Buoyant Breeze and Apples! Of course he's grateful for just about anything though as long as it tastes good!

Drink: Dandelion Wine!

Flower: Cecilia's! :]

Activity: he's a bard, of course its gonna be singing and maybe even dancing!

Animal: dogs...again... all of them. every single one ever. he just loves them all so much even the ugly rat looking ones

Albedo

Food: Sunshine Sprat!! Doesn't matter if it's his specialty or not he enjoys it either way

Drink: I feel like he'd be very fond of hot chocolate! its not as strong or bitter as coffee since he likes sweet stuff, but its still really hot which is good since hes in Dragonspine 90% of the time

Flower: Mist Flower Corolla's! hes just absolutely fascinated by them

Activity: super obvious, but reading and drawing! I feel like on occasion though he'll stargaze, its very relaxing to him

Animal: cats! not only are they similar to him, but he always finds himself enamored with their looks and behaviors!

Xiao

Food: almond tofu. period

Drink: probably doesnt drink much, and when he does chances are its just water. but! I feel like one day Zhongli takes him out for some tea! Zhongli gets Xiao a peppermint tea with honey and smiles to himself bc Xiao just absolutely loves it its super soothing for him both in flavor AND feeling!

Flower: qingxin!

Activity: poor man doesnt know what hobbies are, let alone his own. i feel like he'd also enjoy stargazing though!

Animal: cats. they're exactly like him, he just resonates with them so much (omg catboy xiao arc??!?!) he'll just sit there on the roof of the inn petting kitties until he's needed somewhere

Childe

Food: isnt a picky eater so he doesnt really have a favorite or least favorite, but he enjoys Calla Lily Seafood Soup a lot! hes kind of conceited though so he'll probably brag about how his version ( A Prize Catch) is like 10 times better

Drink: once this man tastes orange juice he will NEVER shut the fuck up about it. he just feels like an orange juice guy to me

Flower: doesnt really have one! i feel like he'd either find all flowers equally as pretty or just not really pay much attention to them at all

Activity: fighting! hes a stupid little brawling adrenaline junkie what did we expect honestly

Animal: also a dog lover; he cant help it okay he sees a dog and just starts beaming like a little child(e)

Zhongli

Food: Bamboo Shoot Soup!

Drink: honestly? Dandelion Wine and any sort of tea are equally his favorites. he drinks tea more often of course, but Dandelion Wine is his favorite to have as an "on the occasion" sort of thing!

Flower: surprisingly silk flowers! he feels relaxed by them

Activity: he just wants rest man thats it, but i feel like he enjoys taking strolls around Liyue!

Animal: all animals!! except for maybe frogs but thats just because they're super duper slimy

#kaeya alberich #genshin kaeya #diluc ragnvindr #genshin diluc #venti #genshin venti #albedo #genshin albedo #xiao #genshin xiao #adeptus xiao #archon venti #xinnie writes #Childe #tartaglia #childe tartagalia #ajax #genshin ajax #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #Zhongli #genshin headcanons #headcanons #[☕] requests #[☕] writings

[scoups4lyfe]

Soooooo, I'm guessing one of two things happened. Either you never were able to muster the will to press the play button, or did so and were instantly taken out, lol. Either way, I don't mean to harp on you, but I am morbidly curious on what your opinions will be at the end of the episode, and especially your analysis on what gets revealed and how that affects... well everyone. Can NOT wait to rant to you about what's gonna happen ☆⌒(≧▽​° ) - Spoiler Anon

y ay aya a

nawwwwww I LOVE when y'all harp on me

makes me feel alive LOL. Did you have any specifics questions or opinions that you wanted to know about :33.

Im so ready for the rant spoiler anon. Run me over with your motor corolla like we're in GTA 5

#lmao #you aren't totally wrong there my good fellow lmadoijdsijsdif #I'll leave it up in the air which I did #play or stared lifelessly at it #LMAO #kronthescoup #my thougts #kamen rider revice #kr revice #revice #watching revice #ikki why is ur demon so cringe #revice spoilers #kamen rider #wtf bath 25?? hours #inbetween baths #asks #spoiler anon

[2manyfandoms2count]

I love you (not) - Chapter 11

I'm back! Almost a month late, but exams got in the way of @marichatmay (how inconsiderate of my uni to hold them at this time of the year, really) The updates should be more frequent again, especially since I've got at least a couple of chapters planned that combine two prompts! Hope you enjoy this chapter xxx

First | Previous | AO3 | Next

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Chapter 11: In which, to quote Taylor Swift, dancing is a dangerous game

Marinette hummed happily as she inspected the dress on her mannequin.

Without tooting her own horn, it really was some of her best work; she'd chosen an asymmetric cut for it, slightly shorter in front, so the silk fabric teased the top of her knees. It was light enough that it could expand like a corolla if she twirled, but the shape of the skirt prevented it from hitching too high (one had to remain classy).

She was so pleased with the result. She'd fallen in love with the velvet lining of the cherry blossom pattern fabric when she'd stumbled upon it at the Marché St Pierre over a year ago, and had bought it on a whim. It had been safely sitting at the back of her fabric case ever since, for lack of a worthy project. She’d looked at it longingly every time she opened the box, hoping inspiration would strike.

She didn’t know if it was the upcoming class party, her strangely giddy heart, or the lovely late spring weather, but something in the air had titillated her creativity, and here she was, the proud owner of a beautiful dress, perfect for any occasion.

And what an occasion the class party was turning out to be. What had started out as a lowkey plan to celebrate the approaching end of the school year and the end of the brevet, had developed into something much bigger when the class had started discussing where to hold it, and Chloé had ended up suggesting the Grand Paris restaurant with a seemingly exasperated sigh. Marinette had seen her small smile when everyone had thanked her, though, and had made a mental note to suggest that they found a small present for her before the party.

Alya had been shocked when she’d voiced the thought aloud, asking if Marinette was feeling feverish, but her friend had shrugged the comment off. She just felt very light and breezy for some reason, and nothing could knock her off her air path.

She sighed contentedly as she put her pins away and opened a window to let the warm spring breeze in. This would do nicely. Even if she wasn't going to directly pursue Adrien, she was sure he'd notice the quality of her garment. And then, if he asked her to dance like the last time they’d been to a party at Chloé’s...

Oh, but what if we do dance like last time , she froze at the thought. I haven't made any progress in dancing, and even though I managed to not faceplant in front of him last time, I'm not sure that my luck will withstand a second time - what if I step on his feet? What if I knock into him and break his nose? Then he will hate me, his whole modeling career will be ruined, and Gabriel Agreste will make sure I never become a designer, and Adrien and I will never get married, have our house, three kids and our hamster named-

The lack of oxygen from her hyperventilating made her lose her balance and she caught herself on her desk. She breathed out slowly, relaxing as her eyes met Chat’s on their picture from the Café des Chats. She needed to stop catastrophising. It wouldn’t be a good idea to dance with Adrien, not while her “relationship” with Chat Noir was still "going strong”. She caught herself wondering how out of place it would be to invite him along to the party (it would definitely give her an excuse not to dance with Adrien), but promptly waved the thought away.

She went up to her computer and pulled up a dance tutorial to get her mind off of things. Just to be on the safe side.

"One two three, one two three..." She tried following the waltz steps, pretending to hold someone in her arms.

She felt a little stupid, but quickly brushed the feeling away. It wasn’t like someone was going to see her. She closed her eyes and let herself be carried by the music, picturing the movements in her head. It was easier this way.

“I must say, Marinette, you have excellent taste in music. Oh! Whatcha doing?” Her eyes flew open at the sound of a familiar voice and she stumbled backwards, crashing into her mannequin. Had she somehow invoked Adrien? A quick glance at her window and the smiling, masked face dangling upside down from it answered her question. "It really drags a cat- woah there, careful Princess!”

Chat leaped inside as his smile melted into a concerned frown.

“Would you stop sneaking up on me like that?!” She cursed as he helped her up, not admitting that she was actually kind of glad to see him. It had been a while. She immediately straightened her mannequin and started dusting off the dress.

“But where’s the fun in that? You’re cute when you’re dancing.” He felt his cheeks pinken, on par with hers at the compliment.

“Yeah, well, um…” She stammered, occupying herself by frantically checking for any sign of damage. “You could have ruined my dress!” She huffed.

“Ooh, is that what you’ll be wearing at Chloé… Bourgeois’ party?” He caught himself before he could sound too chummy about Chloé, but his face lit up as he turned around the mannequin to inspect it.

“What do you know about that?” Marinette crossed her arms and squinted suspiciously at him.

“Oh, nothing much,” he gulped, remembering how attentive to detail Marinette was. “I just heard about it through the grapevine, you know? I kind of keep a tab on events involving the Bourgeois, they tend to be at high akumatisation risk.”

“Clever kitty,” Marinette whispered under her breath.

“What was that?” Chat smirked.

“I said, that’s fair.” She cleared her throat.

“Right.” He nudged her. “Anyway, this dress is gorgeous, you’ve done an ameowzing job on it, Marinette.”

“Thanks.” She bit back a giddy smile, and cleared her throat. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“I…” Chat hesitated. He wasn’t sure, really. He’d been relaxing in his room, gazing at his ceiling, when he’d suddenly felt an irrepressible longing to see Marinette, and had promptly been on his way. He wondered if he could invoke his right to want to see his girlfriend, but decided it probably wasn’t for the best. They hadn’t seen each other since their encounter at the flower shop (well, of course they had, but she hadn’t been aware of it), and the part of him who was still hellbent on ending this absurd arrangement was convinced that a bit of progress towards a potential breakup had been made; blurting out defining relationship terms would definitely not help go down that road. “I was just in the neighbourhood, so I thought I’d pop in and say hi! I’ve missed you.” He felt the tip of his ears warm up at his words.

“I’ve missed you, too.” She looked at her feet bashfully and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Both remained silent for a moment while the waltz music kept playing in the background, unsure what to say next. The silence was interrupted by a loud ad for Tsurugi cars on Marinette’s computer.

She jumped and went to close the tab, but Chat Noir caught the name of the video before she could do so.

“A dance tutorial?” He tilted his head inquisitively, and she froze. “What’s this for?”

“Well, I know it sounds stupid, but… I’m a little worried about the dancing part of Chloé’s evening.” She admitted, knotting her hands together.

“But you’re a great dancer!” Chat’s exclamation came out like a cry from the heart. “I mean, I suppose. How could you not be? You’re Marinette Dupain-Cheng! You can do anything.”

“Thanks, Chat.” She flashed him a bright smile, making his heart skip a beat.

“I’m only speaking the truth.” He bowed, and decided it would be for the best for him to change the subject, before he went down the ‘Marinette is amazing’ rabbit hole. The rant could easily last for a long time. Thankfully, the video came to his rescue. “You know, though, I hear kids these days don’t really waltz anymore,” he said conspiratorially.

It was true; even though his father had been adamant about him taking ballroom dancing lessons, claiming every respectable young man knew how to dance, Nino had been almost uncharacteristically mocking about how he’d danced with Marinette at Chloé’s first party when they’d discussed it later (he’d had to gush about how great it had been to dance with his good friend), advising him to update his dancing style. Adrien had therefore looked it up, and had found out that Rock’n Roll dancing seemed fairly popular still, and his father had approved the suggestion to add it to the acceptable dance list. He wondered if Marinette also knew how to dance it.

“I know people who still waltz,” Marinette replied, defensively crossing her arms in front of her chest. “And so what if it’s a little old-fashioned? I don’t see what’s wrong with it.”

“It’s just not very twenty-first century, is all.” He shrugged, although he wanted to scream that he agreed with her. He was mildly afraid that she’d see that two of the people she knew who appreciated waltzing were blond guys with green eyes, about the same height and build, and absolutely fantastic, funny and well-dressed, and that she would connect the dots. He wasn’t sure Ladybug would be very pleased if his identity was leaked over a dance, no matter how trustworthy Marinette was.

“Oh yeah? And what would you suggest, then?” Marinette cocked an eyebrow.

“Ever heard of Rock’n Roll?” he asked.

“I don’t live under a rock, you know.” She rolled her eyes. “Pun unintended.”

“And do you know how to dance it?” He took a step forward.

“I know the basics.” She shrugged.

“Would you like to practise? Just in case it turns out to be useful at Chloé’s…” He trailed off, trying to hide how excited he was at the prospect of dancing with Marinette again.

She wrung her hands together and pondered her options. It would be pretty stupid not to seize the opportunity, plus, she’d always kind of wondered what it would be like to dance with Chat. She didn’t know where the idea came from, although maybe their late night patrols in the moonlight played a part in it. “Are you sure you don’t have more important things to attend to?” She looked up at him.

“I’m free as a bird.” He grinned.

“Okay, then.” She found a playlist and launched it. “Show me what you’ve got.”

Chat Noir extended his hand and she took it. He pulled her in a little closer, twirling her in and back out before swinging their hands in rhythm with the music.

“The real pros trace little hearts to the beat, because your heart rate actually changes to match the tempo of a song,” he confided, before taking her other hand.

They met chest to chest a couple of times, then lifted their arms over their heads, letting go of one hand. Chat’s gloved hand hovered over Marinette’s arm as they moved just out of reach of each other, giving her goosebumps. Her breath hitched slightly, and she was fairly sure her complexion was now a couple of shades redder. Chat didn’t notice, or pretended not to, twirling her again, then taking her other hand again to go through a series of passes.

Marinette was impressed by how smoothly he led her, how natural it seemed to be for him. He smiled casually as they danced and she relaxed, effortlessly falling into rhythm with him.

As the end of the song approached, Chat got more confident that she could take more complex moves and picked up the difficulty. Marinette was slightly dizzy from all the twists and turns and was thankful for the pause he gave her after a string of moves. They stepped to the rhythm, her back to his chest, for a couple of beats longer than was traditional. She wondered if he’d sensed that he’d reached her limit.

“Hey, Marinette?” Chat’s breath tickled her ear as he whispered in it.

“Yes?” She looked up at him. Their faces were mere inches away; his gaze had an intensity she’d rarely seen him sport. She couldn’t deny it was a good look on him.

“Do you trust me?” His voice was slightly hoarse from the exercise.

“With my life,” she breathed, her eyes mindlessly landing on his lips. “Why-aaaah!”

She yelped as his hands dropped to her waist and he picked her up, then flipped her in the air.

He caught her before she landed, but her surprise made her fall more heavily than she would have with more notice, a loud thud echoing with her pulse in her ears as the song finally came to an end.

“Hmm, you should really rehearse that last move before the dance, you weren’t very light on your feet…” Chat bit back his laughter.

Marinette was about to punch his shoulder and yell at him to never pull that kind of thing on her again, unless he wanted to become cat food, when Sabine’s voice sounded from below.

“Marinette? Is everything alright?”

“Ah, er, yes Maman! Everything’s fine, I just knocked over my mannequin again!” She called out, frantically starting to push Chat up her stairs, towards her skylight. “You need to go, she can’t know that you’re here,” she added in hushed tones. If Sabine found him there with her… Well, Marinette had managed to convince her after the very first lunch that Chat and her wouldn’t work out, and she knew her mother had taken her word for it; she wasn’t so sure how she would react if she discovered that things were serious enough that he came around and danced in her room with her. Not that it was romantic in any way, but she knew what it could look like from the outside.

“Okay, okay,” he chuckled, “no need to be so pushy.”

“Consider it your punishment for almost giving me a heart attack,” Marinette shook her head. Her next words reassured him that she held no grudge. “See you later?”

“I’ll definitely cat ch you around, Princess,” he winked as he quickly kissed her hand. She rolled her eyes, but smiled nonetheless. “By the way, I’m sure you’ll do great, whoever you dance with.”

“Thanks, Kitty.”

As she returned inside, she reflected on their synchronicity, and wondered if it was all down to the couple of years of fighting side by side, or if something bigger was at stake, allowing herself, for the first time since it had happened, to think about her first kiss for a little more than a couple of seconds.

#marichatmay2021 #marichat may #marichat #miraculous ladybug #miraculous fanfiction #miraculous fanfic #marinette dupain-cheng #chat noir #the miraculous tales of ladybug and cat noir #ml #day 14: dancing #elle writes #love you (not)

[dropsofletters]

golden age of youth

title: golden age of youth pairing: lee hoseok/reader genre: racer!au/rivals to lovers!au summary: everyone can recognize the racer with the big smile and sparkling eyes—the hero of formula one, lee hoseok. in the lineal passage of time, another racer appears with adrenaline pumping through her veins and a sharp mouth to put everyone in their places. talent exudes from the two, as well as attraction, but to love there must be something more than an adrenaline rush. type: angst/fluff/romance/humor/suggestive word count: 21,586 disclaimer: this is part of my august special called ‘the anti-love club’. each story can be read individually, however, you’d be getting a little bit more of backstory along with some easter eggs if you read each of them, as well as helping me with support. the masterlist can be found here.

People start coming to life when they are in a state of danger, running, with beads of sweat pooling at the skin of their nape and on their forehead, when their clothes feel too heavy on their bodies and the saliva on their mouths accumulate, excessive as they ask for more, for safety primarily. This is a game that she knows how to play—for she is the one that brings herself to dangerous races. If she knows something, it is stepping on a pedal with all the force she has on her body, controlling the wheel of racing cars and common cars alike, feeling the wind on her face when she need adrenaline the most. It just so happens that when she is there, shaking on top of a seat, smiling behind a helmet, is when she is at the most control of her life. 

She has never liked the color beige—it’s dull, it means an ‘in-between’, it’s the color an older couple wear before going to sleep on the same bed, the color of coffee early in the morning, an awakening of sorts that she has never brought herself to enjoy. It’s the reason why she liked the color of her lips to be burgundy, just like the blood on her veins and arteries, matching her clothing and contrasting with her black or white cars, always polished, needily repaired by her own hands. She needs to race, she had said when she was merely nineteen, going against any odds of going to college, of living a normal and comfortable life. A sport, she claims it is, but it is more than that…

It’s a way of living. An irresponsible, entertaining, worrisome and somewhat addictive way of living, existing, breathing, enjoying.

Fast had not been the perfect way to describe her rise to the Formula One infamous racing, much less was it smooth. To her odds, she had the fact that she was a woman—not the daughter of some racer, not a spoiled brat with parents rich enough to insert her into the list of racers, but just another lover of cars that prided too much on the leather of the seats of her old car and spent too much time with a machine to ever be able to describe it in minutes. Had it not been for the woman by her side, someone who completely understood the struggles of being part of something that is usually (and mistakenly) connected to men, she would have not been there. 

Meeting Heejung was easy. With her body mostly hidden by the overalls of her mechanic shop and her love for changing cars into something different from their beginnings, it was bound for them to happen to meet. Heejung needed more clients, desired for someone to sport her brand one day...and she happened to crash her old Corolla in one of the many times she had gone out illegaly to race. Heejung did not utter a word, bleached hair seeking for life in that bun that she usually wore it in, the strands normally coated in oil, face filled with all the emotions in the world. At the time, Heejung had been almost a guardian angel—she took care of her when she was just beginning, getting noticed by more racers that had brought her to legal events instead, and whenever the adrenaline of rushing through life went too crazy on her head, she soothed out every bit of her ‘ride or die’ attitude.

No, she had not been a guardian angel for her. Heejung is her guardian angel, even now when she has finally reached a good spot in her career, enough to be able to be considered half a name in this industry. This is just the preparations of the main event, of the big Formula One race that everyone has been hyping up since last year, an introductory point for all the racers and a joy for brands that wanted to be sported by the figured of teenagers and adults alike. Her chest swelled with a feeling that made her feel full, taking in the air of pure contamination, smoke, nodding her head along to the sound of some rap song that is definitely looking to be the new sound of the summer. She felt like she belonged in there, with racers equal to her wearing uniforms with brand-names, though hers barely had any, showcasing the first smile of the night because who the fuck cares that she just got there in a Corolla, while everyone else had arrived  in their sport cars?

Heejung releases a laugh behind her, quite girly for the way one would expect her to be, and she gripped the sides of her uniform to bring her closer to her front. Her back collided against Heejung’s chest, earning a soft huff from her. “Look at all these people. I can’t believe you actually made it to the point you can compete with our heroes.”

She lifts her nose at that, almost like a Queen would, looking ahead of her at the majority of the men there, some even women, all equally looking for the price of pride, money and most importantly, recognition. Fame was also needed in the world of adrenaline. “They are not our heroes anymore, Heejung. We have gone through this.” This kind of friendship comes from four years of being around each other. Indeed, a worker of Heejung’s mechanic shop is now a racer, the word of their small street and the reason why there are some posts about her shared in social media. A nobody, that is what she is, and yet, she feels like seeking for more. “They are our enemies now. We are looking for the grand prize—no, we are getting it.”

“Not with that attitude.” Heejung puckers up her mouth, pulling away from her friend and crossing her arms over her chest. “You need to be appealing to the public. Girly, flirty. You want to have a fan-base of horny men looking to spend their money on you. That’s how we rise on this business.”

The flickering lights of the paparazzi taking pictures of the people ahead of her, crowds and crowds piling up, had her moving forward in order to find someone who could recognize her. After all, she wants some appearances, even an interview, something that could get her name out there and make her savor the dream that she has fought so hard for. “I don’t do that kind of shit,” She mumbles, placing her hands inside her pockets as she walks. “I want to be respected, not lusted at.”

“Who said you can’t have both?” Heejung prompts, pushing her finger up in the air albeit with an idea. “Don’t think I’m telling you that you don’t have any talent. Quite the contrary. You’ll kick the ass of most people here, but if you have something to your advantage...why not take it?”

“Because you have said so yourself,” She points out, turning her head to the side to look at her friend. She scrunches up her nose, lowering her voice to match Heejung’s tone. “You attract the wrong kind of men. You don’t need a man to fuck you for one night. You need a man to fuck you with a ring on your finger that promises a forever. Some shit like that.”

“I said that once,” Heejung retorts, placing one hand over her heart. “And I did not mean for it to be so vulgar, but since that’s the only way you understand...”

“Heejung, I don’t need the attention of the male population to rise.” She argues, though this is just one of their conversations. One of those profound ones they used to have when they were having their morning coffee and Heejung would sigh in delight about her relationship with a fellow worker, Leo. Too in love, enough to make anyone puke, it was no wonder they had waited ten years in a relationship in order to get married. Quite cute if she was honest, just not her style. “Right now, if I happen to end up getting a guy, it’s because I want us to enjoy our time now. I don’t need a future.”

“What will you do once you’re old and wrinkly and alone?” Heejung questions, pushing through a group of people until they saw the booth of the magazine they were looking for. The biggest, yet most honest, magazine in the sports industry at the moment, of high interest for sponsors and for those who looked for respect as racers. 

Her eyes almost seemed to be filled with stars and if she looked at herself, she swears she’d see a glint in them. Lips are pulled into a smirk, because she has rehearsed a big chunk of her life for this. She knows how to tuck her hair to the side and speak with authority, like she owns the place, as if her foot is heavy enough to run over the world itself. “I’ll get a Volkswagen and drive me the hell around town. That’s what I’m going to do. Enjoy my life.”

“You know what? Fair enough.” Heejung huffs, fixing her bun once again and leaving a few strands out, making her angled face look much softer with her thick lips pushed upwards. “I’ll stop having the friend talk and now I’m going to be your manager. I have various roles in your life.”

“I can already feel the rant—”

“Not only I am your manager and your friend, I’m also your mechanic. Your mom. Your nurse. Your sibling. Your brasswork assitant. I do everything for you. Publicist, too.” She huffs out before turning to look at her racer friend, taking her by the shoulders and releasing some pressure on the tense muscles. “There is a guy there, right, but we need to approach him as quickly as possible. He’s a journalist, the newest one—”

She quirks an eyebrow at that, trying to tease her friend. “How would you know that?”

“Leo knows him, remember? He went to college. I thought you knew he’s a journalist, either way—” Heejung closes her eyes tightly, as if scolding herself for talking too much before opening them once again. “His name is Matt. Well, Matt for short. He interviews just about anyone because he’s younger, much less important, and he releases some good articles online, including Instagram links. So we’re looking for him, I think he’s free right now.” Lacing her arms with Heejung’s, she feels her weight being dragged to get her to walk quicker. Heejung must be exercising more than her...or maybe she should just actually go for a walk instead of driving everywhere. “He’s the one seated there,” Heejung whispers once inside the publicity tent, pointing with her chin at one of the seats near the stage, the one that the most well-known racers used. 

Actually, Matt is quite the unexpected sight. She expects some man with baggy pants and a Ferrari t-shirt, but instead she is welcomed by a lanky, tall man with glasses. Not weak looking at all, his brown gaze behind his glasses and his dull chocolate-hair just created contrast to him, wearing a sweater even when the amount of people there were enough to create body-heat for a million people. His camera hung around his neck and he seemed to be taking a breather, if his looking around is anything to go by, a notepad resting on his lap experly.

And yes, those are khakis. She definitely can see them now. She shouldn’t be afraid of someone like him, yet something about him exuded professionalism. Maybe, Heejung is right. Maybe, she should have tried to be a better actress instead of binging videos of the racers she looks up to, because a flutter of her eyelids and a much cleaner mouth could work to her favor here. Damn it for having the mouth of an angry ninety-year-old woman and for using too many profanities in her speech, because Heejung is suddenly walking her towards the man and she is starting to feel a tad bit nervous.

Which is strange, for someone who never gets nervous about anything—dates, due-dates and even racing through the smallest of streets in the highest of speeds—, she surely feels like her food must return from its trip at any given minute and end up on this man’s khakis.

“Hi, are you Matt?” Heejung asks softly, extending her hand for the man to take and he lifts his gaze from his notepad, finally seeing a bit of his smile on his delicate features.

“Yes. May I know who you are? I wasn’t actually waiting for anyone—” Matt speaks, voice filled with the seriousness that she had expected, that monotone voice that reminded her that this was a serious situation. What she said or didn’t could be recorded and used against her at any given moment.

“I’m Leo’s wife! He told me he had spoken to you so you could interview my client.” Heejung speaks with a smile on her face, wrapping her arm around her shoulder and shaking her slightly, like a mother who is proudly showing off that her daughter can race...and shouldn’t be proud of it. “She’s in the line-up for the race and pretty new, so a head start would work in our favor so much.”

Matt stands up at that, grasping the camera in between his fingers as recognition filled his face. “Ah yes, Leo,” Heejung seems to be delighted at the sound of her man’s name. Huh, so maybe love does work for some people and she just happens to be one of those who it had not worked for. “I remember him quite fondly. We used to hang out a lot in the printing room...since he worked there, you know, he’d sneak in some papers and wouldn’t ask me for more money.” 

Well, that sounds exactly like the Leo who could spend his entire night in the shop if it meant pleasing every client, even if the car has no chance of being brought to life. “That’s delightful.”

Matt looks at her, at her silent, statue-like stance and she wonders why she hasn’t spoken, hasn’t used that confidence of hers to introduce herself, so she does. Or tries to, her hands are a bit clammy—though, if asked, she’d blame it on the weather—and her voice shakes when she says her name out loud. “I’m a huge fan of your magazine...and your work is amazing, too. Only have gotten a few glimpses, though, but I’m fucking glad I did.” Heejung nudges her side and had she looked at her, she knew she would widen her eyes because obscenities in a sentence aren’t pretty and because she hasn’t actually read anything from him.

Or if she has...she doesn’t know.

Oh God, what if he asks what her favorite article of his is?

Though, Matt’s smile reaches his eyes, taking his pen out of the pocket of his dark blue sweater, clicking it and writing her name down on the small notebook. “Haven’t gotten that in a while. As a writer in a magazine, you barely get any recognition.”

“It happens.” She whispers, lifting her head when Matt looks at her and giving him a tight smile. Tight and fake smile, because she is far too casual for these types of things. She can’t come up with a story, taken out of her ass, about how her racing abilities came from some bonding experience when she was a child or because she had to find a way to escape from her reality. The truth is...she did it because she felt like it, because her desire to be on edge surpassed any rational thought. She had taken a car, pressed on the pedal too hard and liked it. Then, her own thrive was what led her to be there.

“So—”

“Matt!” The boisterous voice of a man, albeit shorter than Matt himself and visibly older, more pompous, had interrupted the guy’s speech before he could start interviewing her and his posture straightened when the loud man came over to hug him, gripping him for a few minutes and lifting him up his feet just in time to hear more masculine, definitely smoother laughter. The source of the voice catches her attention, making her look just to catch a glimpse of exactly who should have not been there at that time. “Wonho is here for the interview. What are you doing there losing time?! My guy finished an interview early to give you your article.”

“O-Oh—” Matt utters, unhooking himself from the hug and sending an apologetic glance at the two women in front of him. “Better not make him wait, then.”

Wonho greets him with a handshake, looking at her from the corner of his eyes and sending a charming smile her way, along with Heejung’s. This is the dream client for someone like Heejung, definitely a people pleaser. “No, don’t worry. Do your thing, I’ll wait.”

Matt shakes his head, perhaps tranced from the thick muscles and the soft scent that belonged to Wonho, but she doesn’t forget the way he easily dismisses her existence and Heejung’s with a quick: “They can wait! Let’s just start your interview.”

The rockstar of cars, the biggest, the loveliest Formula One racer, the same one that had every racer shaking on their feet, winner of last year, owned by magazines and brands. Oh, she knows his name—even past his artistic one, he calls himself Wonho when on his zone, on his own stage, but when he is out of racing, he is Lee Hoseok. With ashy black hair that often hides under his helmet, once off falling down his smooth forehead, giving life to his dark and understanding eyes, smile worth a trillion more than hers will ever. The muscles are definitely a plus, surely, enough to catch her gaze when he turns around and moves along Matt and his manager. 

Nice ass, she thinks, still belonging to the enemy, so that deems it not worthy of her interest.

Someone like him doesn’t have to wait, not when he makes everyone swoon with the red color of the tip of his big ears whenever he is feeling a bit shy. Not when his voice is charming, dragging on certain syllables, using the ‘s’ at his favor to make it sound more profound. Charming, that he is, exactly what she lacks and maybe, that is what this Formula One race is looking for.

They want someone to stand in the cover of magazines holding their brand. They want someone who appeals to a bigger audience.

Or wanted, now they’ll want her talent. No matter how against the rules she is in the world of publicism.

“You know what, I don’t need to wait. Much less do I need to be disrespected like this.” She mumbles, tightening the zipper of her uniform and bringing it up to her neck, licking the inside of her cheek as she moves towards the set of cars, the real racing cars, where in about twenty minutes they’ll make some demonstration for people to feel more hyped for the main event. In a week, and yet making her feel high on adrenaline.

Heejung is following behind her, sneakers dragging against the concrete and pushing through the groups of people. “W-Wait. No, we’ll have to wait. Yes or yes.”

“I’ll teach Matt that I’m better than that Wonho guy.” She releases into the air, turning around just in time to catch Heejung in her arms when their chests collided together.

“Don’t—Don’t be making enemies already!”

“He’s not my enemy, per se, I’ll change the term.” She says. “He’s my rival. I accept he’s a fine piece of ass and that he’s an excellent racer but—” She cuts herself off, catching her helmet as Leo throws it her way, also one of her team. “I either win or I win. There’s no in-between.”

At first, the sentiment is too fast for her to catch it. Twenty minutes later, she is seated inside her small racing car, waiting for that one signal that starts it all. A noise and then, she simply steps on the pedal, wishing for everyone ahead of her to simply leave her alone. It starts at her feet, as if electricity is brought from any shake of the device, going up her calves and her legs, releasing all sort of tension from them and bringing a sense of purpose to her gut. She finally feels like she is complete, a smile behind her mask when she turns on a corner, when she hears the engine roar to life, as animalistic as it can get. She can’t think, she doesn’t have enough time to, looking at the quickened faces that she can’t make out, but mostly at the road ahead of her. Gray, a color that she loves, very welcomed behind her fiery eyes, feisty when she stops hearing the noise of other cars from up close. That must mean she is first or has finished as last.

Someone is by her side, then appearing in front of her in his own racing car. Black uniform, broad shoulders and those bunch of sponsor names written on the fabric, enough to have his life secured in his rich lifestyle. She knows who this man is, the one trying to pass by her, the same one that makes it insufferable to look to her right when all the cameras are flashing to take a picture of him. The God of racing, Lee Hoseok.

Wonho.

She needs to beat him.

She steps harder on the pedal, as if she could, feeling the sole of her feet shoot an ache up her calf, moving her steering wheel until she is by his side. She plays around a bit with the pedal, wanting the car to be nosy as it passes by him again, this time around not caring so much about the beauty of her turns but simply wanting to get to the end line. She does, apparently, but not in enough time to beat Hoseok’s car, who simply passes by her in a millisecond, as if he had caught up on her technique.

He probably did, he is definitely not stupid. He uses that smile of his, sweet and deliciously charming, to his favor.

Anger has her throwing her helmet on the floor once she gets out of the car. A tantrum, yes, but hidden by the way she places her hands on her hips and breathes in deeply. Anyone that looked at her, at the fucking second place that she is right now, would think she is just tired and for the sake of Heejung not giving her an earful, she better act like she is, but when she looks at Hoseok, he is already looking at her. Chuckling slightly, his shoulders shake when he lifts his hand up to greet his crowd. People cheer for him, watch as he nears her and extends his hand for her to take. Over the noise, she can make out the sound of his dulcet voice when he says:

“I don’t know what I was expecting from you, but you’re way better than anyone could have ever imagined. Good job.” Oh, of course he had to be nice. He just had to. Something about him had to be topped by his outgoing personality, like he’ll always make you feel like you belong, smooth with the way he speaks. For a moment, she feels like falling for it, and she half does, but the bigger part of herself is the one that makes her hand go forward, grasp him with such force that even a gym-rat like him stumbles forward, bumping her shoulder with his to make a statement when she speaks, loud and clear, enough to reach the ears of whoever is around them. Press or not.

“Just wait until I win over you on the night of the race. I’ll do a better job then.” Hoseok’s eyebrows lift at that, holding his helmet to his side, pressed to his waist when he sees a smile appear on her face. The contact of his hand had been so soft, almost tender in comparison of her rough hands from so much working, but she couldn’t think twice about his charms.

Only that she did. Something about winning against him was...thrilling. No one could stop her if she got the Lee Hoseok, the one and only, to give her a second glance. His smile doesn’t falter, instead he continues the conversation.

“I can’t wait.” Hoseok announces, biting his bottom lip and looking to the sides, chuckling a bit to himself.

“Don’t laugh so much. You’ll be begging me to hang out with you once that night is over.” She can hear the shouts of Heejung inside her brain, like she is telling her that this is going to be bad press but who is she kidding? This is what she wants...and possibly, what those gossip-thirsty people want.

“Huh, even if you don’t win, I might.” Those words she did not expect, almost making her smile falter but it only presses harder, the light behind her eyes changing as if they were alone in that people-packed world. His eyes connect with her, the depths of them showing a saint but reading a hidden...sin, almost like he is an angel with dark wings. 

Maybe he is, but she’ll make sure to figure it out.

“Got you interested?”

He shrugs. “Maybe.” He answers, before putting his helmet on again. “Next time around, though, just some advice.” His sweetened tone held a smile, she could feel it, much more when he takes her hand again and lets his thumb rub the back of it, more delicate than she could ever be. Perhaps, they are actually polar opposites, connected by the idea of proving which one is better. They want to rule over the other, acting upon attraction, tethering into playful banter. “Don’t throw a tantrum. It’s a cute look, not a good one.”

And with that, he leaves. His manager is talking to him as he speaks, once again pleasing the paparazzi that are asking for him, asking for more and more of Lee Hoseok and she stands there, ignored, no one compared to the master of racing. When she turns, however, Heejung is already making grabby-hands at her neck, fingers curling against each other and showing what seems to be frustration.

Uh-oh.

...Maybe flirting in front of hundreds of people was actually not a good idea.

But when has she ever had one of those?

🚗

With her back pressed to the mechanic’s creeper, knees bent and one of her hands holding a flashlight up to the bottom of the car whilst the other is working diligently, she realizes that she never really follows the rules. If ever. While everyone in the mechanic shop is wearing their overalls perfectly, zipped up, coated in oil and black tints plastered all over the fabric, she has the long sleeves of her overalls wrapped around her waist, her white tank top silently asking for mercy thanks to all the dirt that has now accumulated over her chest. Not that she can bring herself to care, much less when she is on her fourth cup of coffee of the morning, excited to get her car to start working after dying on her while in her way back to her house. 

Someone must have noticed the lack of coffee, because Leo starts the coffee machine right after asking his wife: “Babe, did you finish this coffee? I left it full just an hour ago.”

Okay, so maybe the grand night of the Formula One race was getting closer and her need of coffee comes from the fact that she hasn’t slept very well. Or at all. The ache behind her eyelids is painful when she tries to concentrate on the little, smallest pieces of the car, almost like a surgeon who is looking for that exact mistake that has been bothering the entire body. Someone had noticed the reason as to why there is no more coffee in the shop, though. “I didn’t finish it, but I know who did.” The thud of Heejung’s foot against her calf makes her let out a breath in surprise, a smile appearing on her face soon after. “Say sorry to Leo, you big child.”

“I’m sorry, Leo!” She utters from under the car, unable to contain the giggles that bubble up from her chest. This is what happiness is about, feeling the crispy sun entering from the open gates of the shop, hearing the coffee brewing as quickly as it can, smelling like old cars and leather seats. This is not a world of Maserati’s and rains of money, but it will be one day. She’s hopeful, loyal, waiting for the time she can finally glow to her fullest potential. If she doesn’t sleep before this race, however, she won’t even be able to win.

“Don’t scold her so much.” Leo adds in that sweetened tone of his and she can imagine the sweet-looking man with the rounded cheeks nudging his wife’s side. “She’s under a lot of pressure.”

“You know more than anyone that I love her with my entire heart,” And she is certain Heejung really does such thing. No one wakes up at midnight to help their friend out pushing her car back home. No one becomes a manager of their best friend who is far too stubborn for her own good. No one would have done that, for her or for anyone like her, driving through a dead-end street for the sake of their friendship. “...But she does this even if she is not about to race for Formula One.”

“Stop talking about me as if I’m not in the room.” She says, somewhat scared that they’d realize just how nervous she is. Shaken to the core, not because of her abilities, she trusts those, but because there is someone better than her already...Lee Hoseok, who in the little publicity stunt had sat her back down on her place, as if she was insignificant and while she knows he did it simply to tease her, one of his tactics coming from the electricity between them, she still feels somewhat...thoughtful.

Enraged, but the kind of enraged that has her smiling when she realizes that—huh, Lee Hoseok is the type of man to have the sweetest smile in the world, yet be endlessly honest.

For a moment, she gets tranced in her own car. This old thing that she had bought with money that should have gone for her rent, but back then she didn’t know any better. It just screamed for her to own it, mostly because it reminded her of one of the first few magazines she had peeked at when her interest in cars and racing grew. It’s from the nineties, surely, it looks like it belongs to that era, but some classics never really get ancient. Nonetheless, nowadays it was difficult to keep it up its feet. With the money she has earned from precious races, though still not as big as what she’d earn does she win the race that’ll take place in three days, she has been able to make it look somewhat decent. Still, the engine is a headache and underneath, it looks as if it had been hit a thousand times before she bought it.

Probably true, but the most gorgeous of things are filled with memories of hardships.

The moment grows larger, longer, keeping her under the car more than necessary, only getting out when she needs to try out the car to no avail. At some point, her back is aching so badly that it cracks when she gets on the creeper again, the smell of coffee long gone, Leo now on his third car of the day and Heejung must be somewhere, but she can’t bring herself to look for her right now. When she bites down on her bottom lip, doing a few arrangements that will take her to the exact position her car should be in, she hears the sound of thick, dense boots kicking against the concrete of their shop, whoever this is stood by the side of her car, leaving him with a view of the black, stylish boots said man wore for the afternoon. Whoever this is has a tough walk, strong muscles and—

“Uh, good afternoon. May I have your help? My car just died on me right now, the engine is not even roaring and I had to push it all the way here.” That voice, angelic but with an edge, not pompous although he is a man of wealth, somewhat humble as well. The delicate lisp that gives out that this is Lee Hoseok. The...rival that is now in her quarter, in her zone, asking for help from no other than her own team. 

She’d roll out from underneath the car, but she is hiding. Seeing him would mean that she’d up saying something competitive, yet stupidly romantic and flirty because there is something about him that she wants to have, own even for the slightest of seconds. Luckily for her, the man doesn’t seem to be paying attention to her, instead listening to the sound of Heejung’s voice. 

“Ah, yes. We’ll gladly help you. Is your car out there? I’m free right now.” Heejung is political. She knows how to speak and how to do it, unlike her. She can imagine the smile on her face and from the distance, she hears Leo stopping with whatever job he was doing.

“Yeah, it’s parked out there. Sorry, I couldn’t bring it here, I had to push it for too long...” Even he apologizes, sweetening her mouth and leaving it in the back of her tongue. This is the kind of person Lee Hoseok is...and it’s so thrilling to see that someone of his caliber either is perfect at being fake or is incredibly nice. Soon after, he gives a small chuckle, resting his arm against her precious car when he speaks out her name along with Heejung’s. “Wait, you’re her manager, right? I read about the two of you in the line-up. I didn’t think you’d own a mechanic shop.”

“Uh, I, yes—She’s—” Heejung is trying to look for words, because in her immense intelligent, publicitary head, she probably thinks Hoseok is holding a grudge against her. He may, actually.

“And that’s another guy from her team. I saw him with her that same night we raced.” Hoseok points out, now moving his legs slightly as he trails his gaze across the room. She sees his feet moving now, keeping her legs out of underneath the car, peeking like a monster under a kid’s bed. “So...that leaves us to believe the one person under the car must be your client, I suppose.”

Dang it. He’s not as stupid as one would have imagined he is, granted the prince-like title he holds in the racing industry. She clears her throat, placing the flashlight down on her abdomen before looking up at the car, as if it was the sky and she was looking for answers there. “Is there anything I can do for you, Wonho?”

“Not really,” He says, the car shaking slightly when he rests his weight over the hood of it and if he dares bend it the slightest, she’ll have to use the power of her friend also being her legal representation. Heejung is just the biggest chunk of her life in what consists of individuals. “But it’s pretty funny. You’re hiding from me now, when you were about to eat me alive in the race.”

One thing that she does not do is hide. Even under the helmets, the layers of clothing she uses for racing, even from the cameras...she never hides. There is nothing she should be embarrassed of, prideful of her work as prideful can get, so to say that is a bang to her chest, an immediate response that has her moving her legs forward, bending her knees to bring the creeper out from underneath, face finally getting a fresh gush of air to stop her heated cheeks and to dry the glint of sweat that rests upon her arms and chest. “I’m not hiding. Never have I ever consider hiding from you.”

Hoseok smiles, laughs when he straightens his back to look at her, inspecting her flustered face that doesn’t come from him or his malicious comments, all dressed in angel clothing, but from the heat. “I know, I’m just teasing.” He sweetly conquers, pointing at her while exchanging a glance with Heejung. “Can’t she fix my car? She looks like she knows what she is doing.”

She stands up then, thanks to the hand he extends for her to take, his soft touch still a contrast of how she thought he’d be. It takes her three steps to be inside her car, turning the key in the ignition and watching it come to life when a smile appears on her face. “I don’t look like I know what I am doing. I really do know what to do with cars.” She rests her forearms on the steering wheel, speaking loudly when she quirk an eyebrow at Hoseok. “Why? Haven’t fixed one in your life?”

She hears Heejung shouting her name as a scolding, but Hoseok simply kneels the slightest, looking at her from the open windows. He tilts his head to the side. “I used to. I don’t think I do anyone, I just get them fixed.”

“Just accept you want me to waste time on your car instead of spending it practicing for the race.” She tuts him, only to watch the smirk fall from his face, lips parting along the same time his eyebrows lift in surprise.

“I would never do that.” He truthfully says, interlocking his fingers in front of him, cladded in rings that she has taken a glimpse of. He doesn’t make it easy, the soft tone of his voice that reaches the deps of her ribs, moves them out of their place with each quickened breath she takes to calm herself down. For someone who protects, shelters herself from the world with an attitude of stubbornness and recklessness, he seems to have some power over her. Sensitivity exists within her soul whenever he is around, calming it down, giving it a dose of whatever his eyes give out. It is a complete different ordeal than the pumping of her heart when he challenges her. “I just want to see how you do, that’s all. No second intentions. I could even pay ahead. I don’t have cash with me right now, but I have my card...what do you want me to buy you?”

She unlocks the doors of her car, nodding along to his words. “Alright, buy me a Lamborghini Veneno.” The item is worth millions, the reason why Hoseok’s shoulders shake in the wheeze he lets out, looking at her with surprise in his expression.

“No, be serious!”

“I’m serious.” She says, leaning forward until their faces are just centimeters away. “Buy me my Lamborghini and I’ll fix your car.”

Hoseok takes his wallet out, waving it in front of her face with a gentle smile on his sweet features. He knows what he is doing, he has to, and she finds herself smiling as well when the air around them is too thick for the two of them to breathe together. The oxygen is lacking, her eyes inspecting his features, from his plush lips to the length of his dark eyelashes, the piercings that rest on his earlobes and shine against the sunlight romantically. “What about coffee and pastries? You get to drive me there and practice. I also pay you while I see what you’re all about in a real car.”

She steals a glance at Heejung, the kind of face that is telling her not to do it, because she knows exactly what her intentions are. This is the kind of people she always seek for, the ones that give her adrenaline, pump her up with the chase of finding someone, the game of connecting with another person before the fire dulls down. Heejung’s face is framed by her messy hair, shaking her head at her but she ignores it, pointing at the passenger seat with her thumb as she instructs Hoseok: “Get in the passenger seat if you want to know what a real racer looks like.”

“Why? Am I look at myself in the mirror?” Hoseok asks, not giving her time to answer as he walks in front of her car, enough for her to detail the black tee and the matching, tight pants with roaming eyes before he is seated by her side, putting his seatbelt on at the same time as her.

“Buckle up. You’ll need it.”

She notices at that moment, when she steps on the pedal with expertise and excellence, that Hoseok looks at life differently. He feels everything in a different manner, showcased by the way his hands grip to his sides, a shriek leaving his lips just in time for a smile to reach his cheeks. She takes that much in from a glance at him, rounding around his car and getting out of the street that leads to the mechanic shop, leaving a cloud of dust and smoke behind them. Her car is back to its normality, how she knows it, making her hum in delight when the radio turns up with the usual station that accompanies her late night adventures and someone as grand as Hoseok, as delightful in the racing industry, seems surprised when she goes about the streets as if she doesn’t care. She doesn’t, actually, she’ll stop when she feels like the police would catch her.

“Your foot is heavy, oh my God!” Hoseok comments, chuckles leaving his broad chest when she takes one glance over at him, slowing down when she reaches farther from the mechanic shop, more people coming into view, less known than her usual neighbors. 

“I came to this life just to play. That’s all.” She answers, her voice more audible now that she has slowed down, smoothly gliding her hands against the steering wheel until her elbow is resting on the opened window, fist pressed to her cheek, looking ahead. “So, I get to pick the coffee place?”

“Whatever you want,” When she gives him a side-eye, she catches him staring, a big smile on his face when he does. “Yeah, wherever you want.”

A few streets ahead, her favorite coffee shop sells the most delicious of pastries and from the bitter taste that was left from her lunch, she’ll need something sweet. Something quite like Lee Hoseok in this eventful afternoon. “Even hell? Because man, I can really take you there—”

“You’re not a demon.” He answers, leaning back on his seat when he breaks his gaze away from her. “You’re more angelic than you think you are.”

“Oh yes, of course, something about almost making you fall in front of everyone in a race and saying more curse words in a sentence than any other person could just speaks angelic.” She sarcastically prompts, straightening her back and chuckling. “I’m not even a demon. I could be Satan herself.”

“Satan is a man.”

“Who told you that?” She asks, stopping the car right in front of the coffee shop before smiling. “I’m very much a woman.”

Hoseok is amused, she sees it in the way he gets out of the car as quickly as she does, following after her with laughter bubbling from his chest. “What is it with you and this image you have going on? Are you really this reckless or are you doing it to be interesting?”

“I don’t know, Wonho, Hoseok...Formula One loser, is it interesting to you?” She asks, standing right in front of the door of her favorite coffee place to see that it is closed. A pout wants to overtake her lips, though she simply points at the sign that reads they are closed for today thanks to technical difficulties. 

“Very.” He says, his shoulder pressing to hers when he looks around the street, hands hidden in his pockets before he points with his chin towards a bakery. “That looks like a good place for pastries. I owe you the coffee, but hey, at least I got you to go out to a place with me without having you threaten me.”

She smiles, walking right by his side towards the bakery, one that is just next to another one, the separation in between them clear when the colors are completely different, one more exquisite and expensive looking, the other more humbled and beige-colored. “If you’re wondering, though, it’s really not an act. I’m this kind of person every day and every night.”

Hoseok makes the decision to open the door to the beige-colored bakery, earning a pointed look from the delivery man on the black bakery, who immediately stands up when he hears the sound of laughter coming from one of the workers in the bakery. She hears a name, Kihyun, but she doesn’t pay much attention to their conversation as she gets further inside the place.

“...Also, if you really wanted to go out with me, you could’ve just asked.” She answers, shrugging her shoulders when Hoseok asks:

“Would you have said no?”

“I don’t know. Why don’t you figure it out?”

In that small bakery, eating bites of the sweetest of meals, she learns that Hoseok’s image is somewhat fabricated, made to be the cocky and powerful racer that everyone admires. Beneath that, there is a softer soul, someone whose love for racing goes deeper than any magazine could ever showcase. She wasn’t wrong when she said they were polar opposites.

🚗

Her sponsor is quite the brand.

...It’s good for her, at least, somewhat productive.

Energy buzzes through her; it comes in sharp movements of her legs, in the jumping of her feet, in the way she goes from one corner to the other of the booth in which her team stays in. Leo, Heejung and a few other of her friends. The reason as to why she is so electrified, as if thunder had gone through her body, penetrating on every cell, is perpetually written on her uniform, the only sponsor she has. An energy drink company, good enough to have her pupils dilated as she waits for the race to start, a few pictures sent her way and in most pictures, anyone can probably notice the sweat that pools on her forehead and the frenzied look on her face.

Nervousness is not a good look. It doesn’t belong to her, either, she is not the type to get extremely nervous—but the race is finally upon her, the taste of the Formula One title lingering on the back of her tongue, only heightening her ambition when she sees the amount of racers there. In her little rendezvous of hatred with Hoseok, she had completely forgotten that there are other racers there; equally as hardworking, as good, as rich or ambitious as she wants to be. This led to drinking ehr first energy drink early in the morning, almost like breakfast, downing it in one go and now, at this hour of the afternoon, she has already had too many energy drink to even count.

She grips Heejung’s forearm, resting one foot on the floor at a time in her small jumping-dance, ridiculous to anyone who would be looking at her. She feels like she is back to when she was a child and couldn’t go to the bathroom herself. “Jung, I really need to pee. Like, so bad.”

Heejung’s face grows stoic, almost too serious, tugging at her sleeve to get her attention once again. This time, her manager and best friend turns to look at her with a sigh. “Then, just go to the bathroom!”

“But what if the race starts soon?” She worries, the whine in her tone something that she is not accustomed to. The acoustics of the place bring her on the edge, apparently, listening to too many voices, music that is too loud, making her feel out of place, compared to how excited she is most of the time—ready to take over the world. “Heejung!”

“You should have thought about that when you were drinking another can of energy drinks—” She replies before patting the racer’s shoulder. “Just go, it won’t take you more than two minutes and you still have time. Go.”

“Are you sure?”

“...You can always pee your pants inside your car, either way. Don’t go, it’s fine with me.” Heejung sarcastically adds, watching as she pats her best friend’s shoulder quickly to get some of the tension off her body, adrenaline rushing too quickly through her veins.

“Don’t be an asshole. I’m going to pee. Wait for me here, okay? Scream my name if the race starts.”

“Or I could just call you.”

“Great idea, that too!”

Unusual must not be the adjective she was looking for when she heard a knock on the door of the bathroom, open for anyone to enter. By that time, she is washing her hands, splashing some of the leftover water on her face and patting her cheeks quickly, albeit a bit harshly, to get any kind of anxiousness out of her system. The person outside knocks the door again, something that has her screaming out a ‘it’s open!’ into the thin air. No one listens, or they don’t understand her, making her huff as she pats her hands on the backside of her uniform, walking towards the door and opening it with her elbows—hygiene first, she tells herself—but once she is about to come face to face with the annoying woman at the door, she realizes it is not a woman at all.

You see, this is very much a man.

Someone she knows, not like the back of her hand, but at moments like these she wishes she did.

His image is pristine. He’s the sweet man of the Formula One; the person who makes everyone feel special, after all, with some titles under his name and some questionable friends, but beyond anything, people consider him sacred. A sanctified sin, she’d call him, much more in the way he looks currently. His dark hair falls upon his forehead, thin eyebrows covered and his eyes darker than ever. There seems to be a hint of makeup on his skin, his lips are rosier than ever, calling out for dignification the moment he calls out her name with a smile on his face.

Not to talk about the way her eyes dart towards his body, elegance as is with the way his uniform has a the zipper a bit low, giving a glimpse his chest, his workout routine noticeable in everything about him. The star of the night, however, is the grin he gives her when he dumbly adds: “I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Well, I’m a contestant. Of course I’m here.” She points out, catching the way his cheeks light up under the bright lights of the place they are in. “Are your nerves getting the best of you? Because I could grab one of the lollipops inside the girl’s bathroom and give it to you.” She looks up and down at him, biting down her bottom lip after shrugging her shoulders. “There’s no shame if that’s why you were knocking.”

Hoseok, now in his Wonho persona, covers his embarrassment with a chuckle. “I’m not nervous.”

“I am.” She confesses. “...But either way, that must be the twenty energy drinks I just had.” She teases, laughing at her own joke before sighing, resting her hands inside the pockets of her uniform. “Can I help you out with anything?”

He crosses his arms over his chest and she invites herself not to look down. It’d be weak of her to show that she is affected by him, much more when they are minutes away from knowing who the winner of this little internal fight they’ve had is. “Actually, I was looking for you because I may have gotten you an interview with the biggest racing magazine in the industry.”

“Huh?” She says, pointing in between them before scoffing. “You—Me? Wait? Interview? No one wants to interview me.”

Protection is the best policy. The thought of not being wanted in a world that she has tried her hardest to be part of is heartbreaking; sometimes, she finds herself wondering if she’ll ever make it. Wanting to is one thing, actually doing it is another. In this case, Hoseok leans against the nearest wall, looking at her with a faint grin on his face. “At first, they only wanted me there but I said I would not give them an interview if they didn’t give you a chance.”

She slaps her hands against her thighs, falling thanks to gravity. This is something new—Hoseok is just the type of man to adore attention, or so she had thought. He couldn’t possibly do something like this...right? “No way you did or said that. There’s no way.”

“But I did.” Hoseok finishes, his face softening when he lets out a sigh. “Even if I come up last tonight, I’ll still get interviews and sponsorships. Your career is still starting, I don’t want you feeling discouraged just because of the lack of attention from the public.”

She raises her eyebrows at that, battling the stone in her soul, finding out if she can still keep up that confident persona of hers when in reality, Hoseok has simply given a one-in-a-time opportunity. Heejung would be thrilled, until she heard that it was from Hoseok. Something about him was rather gravitational, both good and bad, like she wanted to be closer but she knew it was impossible for them to ever become one. Why? Just a sixth sense. 

“Mhm, I see.” She hums, getting closer to him and looking up at his eyes, which are now glistening when the air in between them is shared. Hoseok may be adrenaline at its finest, the feeling of sneaking in at night behind her family and feeling alive again. He reminds her of the tests in which she cheated in and the thrill of getting caught made her feel powerful. Fearless, some called her, obsessed with feeling alive to the point she’d do anything to have her heart palpitating more than it should. If she can get that from Hoseok, why not use it to her favor? “Thank you.” Though, she speaks from the heart, wrapping her arms around his shoulders and breathing in the scent of him.

Hoseok’s fingers delve into her waist, until they land on the curve of her spine. Even her bones are fidgety, caused by the energy on her system or the thankfulness for him. For a nice soul to exist in such a place. “A-Ah, you’re welcome.” He composes himself quickly. As if the poer of her is not enough to trance him. His fingers trail up her back when she pulls away, grasping the edges of her hair before they are off her ambience. “You better get going. I sent them to your booth and I think they must be waiting for you. The race starts in twenty minutes.”

“Okay, noted.” She replies, giving a few steps forward before turning around, walking backwards whilst speaking to him. “You know, at this rate, you’re really going to end up getting in my good list, Wonho.”

“Can’t end up where I already am.” He sneakily adds, clever beyond what anyone would have imagined before he waves his hand in the air. “See you after the race.”

“Let’s see who is winner by then.”

The interview is, apparently, what she needed to feel better. A camera pointed to her face, a microphone in front of her lips and questions that take her into consideration as a possible winner for the race, just like anyone else. This is a dream beyond fame, of strength instead, of being able to live a fun life without the reigns of responsibility. Sometimes, she wonders if she’ll have to grow out of this mindset—the fear of getting older is not as strong as losing her eternal youth, the essence of her. This is what she has always dreamed of; she confirms.

It’s more of a reality when Leo and Heejung are no longer in sight, when her thighs are pressed to the smaller car in which she is in, helmet secured in place, hands holding onto the steering wheel. She wishes she could have a mirror at that moment, because Hoseok is parked not too far away, testing his engine, letting it roar. She looks over her shoulder, seeing a slit of his eyes behind the helmet, though by the way they crinkle he is smiling. 

She has never quite been this affected by anyone, like she needs to win in order to gain some attention. From the public. From the magazines, the TV shows, the man that everyone adores.

It’s no longer about dethroning him. It’s a state of graceful competition, igniting a fire of attraction, of wanting to push his buttons to get a reaction.

When the race stars, she realizes this is all she has known. When she was a teenager and she would take her friend’s car out for a ride, not caring that the wind blew too hard on her hair or that she couldn’t see properly with the speed she was going in. When she fell in love too quickly, too hard, like she needs to feel alive for once, feel like she has the reigns of starting a fire and dulling it at the same time. Stepping on the engine is necessary, it’s the only way she prove that she is more than just a forgettable woman in the background. The stakes are clear—money, wealth, fame, all of those combine into something stronger. Shades of greed, it’s red—it has never belonged to passion, either way—, everything she sees is suddenly blurring into wanting more and more and more.

It’s dangerous to never get enough or have enough. She breathes more calmly the more she races, when she sees cars stepping behind her, when everything is about sensing where she is located. For a moment, she can’t help but smile. Those who criticized her would never realize that this, on itself, is a form of art. Racing includes the music of life—an engine, the cheering of the crowd; that makes her a performer. Racing also partakes in speed, precise enough to save her own life, the glide of her hands on the steering wheel leaving an imprint on the concrete. That makes her an artist.

At some point, it’s not about winning anymore. It’s about getting noticed in this unstoppable moment of life, so when she sees the endline, she blurs everyone that is around her. She has raced for the world to see, for TV programs to take her into consideration, for the first time she gets to be clapped at instead of called out for her irresponsibility. Her feet steps harder on the pedal, braving it all when she reaches the endline. Once her car comes to a halt, smoke trailing behind it, she gets out, taking off her helmet and inspecting everyone to be over Hoseok. 

The Lee Hoseok, Formula One sweetheart, the man whose eyes are now on her when people rush towards her instead.

“And the Formula One welcomes a new winner…!” Someone announces in the background, in a microphone to be exact and when she feels herself being lifted into the air by her team, she parts her lips and lets out a squeal, hands pressing into her chest to revive herself.

It strangely feels like being born again, like she spoke into existence that she’d be someone of importance. It was either this or social death. The fight was worth going through, because for the first time in her life: she had an actual title.

Formula One winner. Not a disgrace of society that wants to destroy everything at her reach.

Heejung is the one to coach her through it; from the interviews to the actual presentation to the press. Most of the time, she clings into Heejung’s hand, trying not to speak atrocities and ruin her moment, but Hoseok is not too far away. Either way, winning or not, Hoseok had done excellently and money was still going to his bank account, leaving most people bitter at his loss—or almost winning, like some would call it. When questions are thrown his way, she turns to look at him, seated in the same stage as her, talking effortlessly and elegantly. He looks unbothered, throwing a few glances her way, parting his legs until his thighs are in contact with hers.

Winning recognition and money on the long run is one thing. There are things she wants in this life that are not worth money.

Hoseok, for example, is one of those desired adrenaline rushes she gets.

When the interview is over and she is about to go over to the parking lot to leave for a celebration with her team, she feels someone tugging at her arm, soon after her neck is caged under someone’s arm, strong, comfortable, quite cushion-y. The touch is foreign, making her look up to see Hoseok’s face, who chuckles at her reaction when he lets her go. 

“Great game,” He starts. “Learn this date like the palm of your hand. You’ll want to remember the day you became a star.”

She laughs at that, nodding her head at his words. “First day of actually feeling like what I do is worth something.”

Hoseok’s eyes soften at that, his face turning to the side when flashes are felt around them. Someone must be taking pictures of the best two racers of the night. “You’ll be big, I can feel it. That arrogance you claim to have is only towards me, so I am guessing you’re just trying to tease me.” He says, observational of how she had been with everyone else. 

“...You’re my biggest rival here, after all.”

“You mean to say: was?”

“You still are. I’ll see you next season”

He hums. “Why not see each other sooner?” The question is spoken into the air, his dark eyes looking into hers. Is brown the shade of wrong or right? Is a man with a smile like that, like he’ll take her breath away with a simple swoop of his lips against hers, troublesome or not? She can’t bring herself to care, much less when she nears him, placing a hand over his arm and dragging it down until it cages his in a faint hold, letting go as she speaks.

“What are you prompting?” She questions, watching the tips of Hoseok’s ears turning red.

“A race...but with dinner before that, and possibly no race at all.” He makes himself crack up, earning a laugh from her own as she nods her head.

“Yeah, yeah, you’re just scared I’ll win again.”

“I’ve won against you once already.” He prompts, something that has her shrugging.

“Guess we’ll have to figure out with another race...with dinner before that, though.” She says, not noticing that Hoseok’s team is nearby, howling at the words in between them, exchanged playfully.

“Wonho has got a crush!”

“Get it, Hoseok!”

Hoseok extends his hand, almost business-like. “So, a race...not a date?”

She grasps his hand, shaking it with a smile on her face. “A race, not a date.” She conquers, placing her hands behind her back and moving backwards, once again. Why can’t she just turn her back to him. “You already have my number. Give me the details, okay?”

...Because this is definitely a race, not a date.

🚗

“I’ll be leaving early today, okay?”

Heejung, still face-deep in the hood of a car, questions the sound of her voice. “Huh? Why’s that? You always stay at night. It’s not like you like going home early, either way.”

Reaching for the zipper of her overalls, she lets the fabric pool at her feet as it slides down her body, showcasing a much more casual, less mechanic fit. A blouse, some jeans, nothing necessarily fancy. “Who said I’m going home?” She asks Heejung, more like tutting her, something that has the older woman sighing.

“Where are you going?” Heejung asks, pushing her bleached hair away from her shoulders before smacking her hand against the hood of that car. That dent must be driving her crazy. 

“Out on a date.”

Deafening silence, that’s to be expected. Heejung is not a dictator in their friendship, but her years of living has led her to be much like a mother-figure. When she plays with the edge of her hair, almost like a kid would, she realizes that Heejung is just doing that—taking care of her. The woman in question turns around, letting out an exasperated sigh when she actually studies her expression, knowing everything about her with a simple stare.

The thing is: she is not complicated. A risk-taker? Absolutely, a hundred percent, but not difficult to understand. She doesn’t have a routine, but she’s predictable. She’ll do what makes her feel the best that day; she’ll drive herself around, perhaps look for new people to meet, study some more of the science of cars to get herself as much information as possible. Heejung knows this, knows that she seeks for thrill in fear of ever becoming forgettable enough to just find her life to be the same. Each and every single day.

It’s strange, how she battles fear with more fear by living off adrenaline.

“Oh no, baby, I know that look. You’re going out on a date with Wonho, aren’t you?”

“It’s not a matter of who I go out on a date with, Heejung. You’ve said it yourself, I need to get away from always seeking danger and take part of more normal life experiences—”

Heejung sighs at that, fixing her hair as she rests her weight against the dented hood. “No, I know you. You’re doing this, unconsciously, thinking about how hot it would be with your competition in the industry. About how everything is fun and explosive and passionate. You want to have fun, you don’t want to date.” Those words sting at the back of her head, like a punch that has been delivered and it is even worse that it comes from her everything. Heejung is such a necessary part of her life that had she been gone, she wouldn’t know where to stand.

With bitterness settling on her tongue, she speaks out. “What is love about, then? Is it about being boring? Sitting around and not finding anything interesting on the other person other than just finding someone to be there with you? There should be emotion in everything we do.” And maybe her passion is the reason of her love life. She can’t handle routines, the boringness of someone that stops caring, stops loving as hard. The start should not be better than the end, ever.

“...That’s the thing, you have fun in obsessive ways. Not now, at least, but I fear for your safety.” Heejung admits, crossing her arms over her chest to keep her poise. “I’m older than you—”

“That doesn’t give you the right to treat me like a child. I may be messy sometimes, but I know what I’m doing.” This is the part of her that always brings her to be more reckless. People treat her as if enjoying life is her way of being irresponsible, as if she could never make a serious decision, guided by stronger beings than her. She hasn’t had it easy and she has been able to get through it, what is there to prove after that?

“Listen, you’re in your rise to fame now. People are noticing you for your racing,” Heejung, always poised, says in his normal voice. She never curses, never does anything to make it seem as if she is not perfect in every way. That is what has always calmed her down, but she still did not treat Heejung differently if she made a mistake. That is what she is looking for...and sadly, she’d never get. “And you have the celebrity personality. I fear that once you have enough money, you’re going to get addicted to feeling. Celebrities are problematic because they need attention; they need to smoke more than anyone, drink more than anyone, have more sex than any normal human being—”

“You know me, I wouldn’t do that.”

“But I still feel like you shouldn’t go out on a date with Hoseok.” She reasons, though her voice lifts at that. “You’re two fires trying to get together, that just creates a bigger fire and once you dull, there is no way you’re staying. I don’t want you to have your heart broken, because I know you when you get too over excited.” Heejung gets closer to her, blinking rapidly at her friend. “I just know you’ll end up disappointed.”

She looks over to the side, trying not to stare forward. Heejung would want to reason with her and this is just her reality—she wants to go out on a date with Hoseok. Wanted, she desires to feel like; to have someone that understands her. Not a man that asks her to slow down, not a man that shakes her head at her give-it-all-or-lose-it-all personality. Hoseok looked at her, heard her speak with such faux confidence in order to push herself out there, with competition lingering in her tongue, and he still felt attracted to her. He didn’t want to dull her, if anything, he wanted to brighten her up.

“Heejung, I just want to fucking live my life.” Her voice has softened, looking into her friend’s eyes as she reaches forward to push at her arm, almost hesitantly, trying to lighten up the mood. “When I’m older, I want to say I lived. I’m not saying Hoseok is a forever, what I’m saying is that he is who I want right now. For sex or for love, I have to judge that for my own.”

“I just want you to settle down for once.” Heejung whispers. “You’ll end up hurt.”

“You can scold me if that happens,” She says, feeling her phone vibrating inside her pocket and getting it out to see a text from Hoseok. He’s outside, waiting for her. “But for now, Jung, I’m an adult. I don’t need the parenting.”

The glide of her car keys being tossed towards Heejung’s extended hands has the older woman sighing, nodding her head along to her words in a way to showcase her support. More like hidden disappointment, the one that shows she’ll be waiting there whatever happens. “Text me when it’s over, alright?”

Once outside, the dark night engulfs her when it matches the sight of Hoseok’s car, perfectly parked in front of her workplace. It’s a Lamborghini, not to be expected from him to have something cheap or slow, and she doesn’t blame him for it. Her hands trail over the car, smiling at the beaming surface before opening the door. Hoseok lifts his gaze from his phone, then, widening his eyes at the sight of her before he gives one of those infamous smile.

How does Heejung expect her ignore Lee Hoseok? Not the angel of races, but the person himself. She wants to get to know the reason as to why someone like her could bring such brightness out of him. An asshole, that she is; not a heartbreaker per say, just viewing life differently, to test it and enjoy it. Maybe, Heejung is right; people like them are meant to create bigger fires to be turned to dust by someone else, but for now, Hoseok is the person that makes her feel like there is not a burning feeling with fire.

It’s warm. People forget that fire was once looked for thanks to the lack of warmth.

“Hi,” She says, putting the seat belt over her body and studying him. Not his body, but the way he stares at her with a smile on his face, blinking once before letting out a soft sigh.

“You’re gorgeous tonight.” He says before stopping himself, blowing out a raspberry out of frustration. “Not tonight only, though, you are always extremely pretty and funny—”

“I’ll take that as a compliment because I damn right do not look quite as good as you look. Much less with my work clothes.” She compliments, pressing one hand to Hoseok’s shoulder. “So, where are you taking me?”

“...We said dinner.” He continues, all radiance when he starts the car. “For tonight, we’re not two racers in a car but we’re normal people. I’ll drive safely, take you out to dinner and try not to choke on my food from how absolutely beautiful you are.”

“Hoseok, that’s corny, come on.” She pushes, earning laughter from his part.

“Expect more of that through the night.”

“Lucky me,” She rolls her eyes, though a smile plants itself on her face. The growth of being around him, supposedly. “I’ll have a comedy sketch done with the amount of corny lines.”

“I’m ready for it.”

It’s not that the date is perfect, that the place is as inherently expensive as she expected it to be with Lee Hoseok, as rich as he is, it’s the fact that it isn’t. The wine isn’t tastier than any other one that she has, the music isn’t fancier or more on the classic side, the people aren’t socialites with tight dress and huge bank accounts. It’s not the food that is served in fresh plates with smoke coming out of them to indicate how hot they are and it’s not the taste, though magnificent, of the meal she is having along with Hoseok. It’s the man that makes it so memorable, the conversation that never stops, the way she has her head thrown back with laughter the more he tries to joke around. Something connects, like dots in space, like the moles on his face. 

Hoseok talks about his tastes; what music he likes, how he listens to it, how he’ll never get used to travelling but how much he loves it. How he’d prefer a bathrobe over any kind of pajamas and how working out, for him, is more than just looking good but feeling good. This makes her feel at ease—someone else enjoys life for what it is, freedom. Someone else can laugh freely with her, can make her feel like she is not judged, and that person is no other than Lee Hoseok.

Flirting is a necessity with him, in the way she looks at him and how sometimes she catches herself sighing out loud at the mere sound of his voice, not for its tone but for what he says. He is not the typical celebrity, much less is he obsessed with being first place. He has surprised her quite thoroughly. Her hand sometimes dances along to his skin when he feeds her something, or when he holds it over the table and these are the particular things that have her heart racing.

Sometime when his fries are long gone, Hoseok licks his grease-coated lips and sighs. “Why did you decide to become a racer? Like, where did it all start?”

She toys with her fries as she dips them on tomato sauce, puckering up her lips and letting out a short chuckle. “It’s funny because it happened when I was around sixteen. My friend had a car, her grandma’s old car, and she was wanted to go out on a date but she didn’t know shit about driving...so I took her there, I learned then and there.” She smiles at the imagery, the young days of enjoying trying something new and perhaps sucking at it, but having fun along the way. “...But then I hung around other people, and more problematic people at that and that’s when I started to race. They used me to test cars and whatnot, because I was just the youngest of the group and wasn’t as important.” Hoseok raises his eyebrows at that, clearly hurt by the way she spoke.

“They should have never done that.”

“I didn’t know better, I just wanted to have fun. At the time, I guess I trusted them enough to know I wouldn’t die...but who knows? I could’ve.” She finishes, finally plopping the fry inside her mouth before speaking with her mouth full. “What about you?”

“I learned how to drive when I was thirteen,” He says, biting down on his bottom lip when he recalls the memory. “Well, kind of, I asked my mom to let me drive her to grocery store and after so much begging, she let me...but, I didn’t do it again until I got older and she wanted me to drive her everywhere. I became a chauffeur, then tried out for legal racing matches because I...needed the money.” Well, in reality she had always expected Hoseok to be more like her. She did it because she wanted to, but with the way his voice lowers, grows tinier in comparison, maybe that wasn’t the case. “I got denied from college, I couldn’t afford going and my job was a mess since I was a waiter so...I raced, got my ass kicked a hundred times, tried again. After some years, I finally made enough money to never worry about going back to that state again.”

Her hand reaches forward, the smile now off her face when she says: “You’ve been an inspiration for many, Hoseok.” 

“Wonho has.”

“You’re Wonho, though.” She tells him, reassuringly, looking over at him before sighing through her nose. “Kids and teenagers alike think you are so cool. They see you and they see confidence and racers fear you, they know you’re talented and great with publicity—I feared you, in some way.” Though, by the way he looks at her, the lights of the restaurant casting over his face, she can sense his mood being lifted up.

“You weren’t scared of me,” He says. “You crushed me from the day we met.”

“I like to assert dominance, yes.” She tilts her head to the side, pondering the options of the first time they met. “But it’s because you were so great at everything, I was triggered. Great at everything and the greatest looking man I’ve seen in a while. I was offended.”

Hoseok chuckles at that, reaching forward until he is wiping some of the tomato sauce on her lip with a napkin. “I was terrified. I thought my working out routine was good until you almost made me fall with a handshake.”

“Oh come on, I wasn’t that rough.”

“You were.”

Looking up, albeit a bit innocently or feigning to be, she speaks in a softer tone. “Sorry. I may have been a bit tough, but you liked me like that.”

“I definitely did.” Hoseok says, lifting his glass of wine up in the air. “For the woman I knew was going to win against me from the moment I met her.”

“Pfft,” She scoffs, lifting her glass as well and clinking it against his. “You’re saying that just because.”

“...Let me just compliment you.”

“I’d—Okay, yes, you knew I was going to win.”

With the chemistry building inside of them, the faint drinks leaving her with a buzzing feeling by the time she is back in his car and being driven home, she thinks that at the least of possibilities, he is going to kiss all the dizziness away, tipsy feelings gone when his rosy lips rest upon hers and part at the same time, in a rhythm, like he wants to take her breath away and take her out again. One of his hands rest on the steering wheel, the other playing with the edge of her fingers, like he is speaking and doing it without thought, and she can’t bring herself to say anything.

Not when he is complimenting the date, talking about how much he enjoyed it—enjoyed her. Coming closer is the answer, finally engulfing his palm in her warmth when she leans forward to whisper her goodbyes and instead of receiving a kiss as a gift, all she gets is the drunken truth of a whispered goodbye and a smile. He doesn’t try anything more than a pat on the head and that is enough to have her squinting.

Getting out of the car, she even turns around in case he is rushing behind her to give her a kiss but then, she realizes he is waiting for her to get inside.

...He is being respectful, though his obvious attraction is clear even to her, he is being nice.

He’s waiting, for her, for a kiss, for the perfect time to leave. He’s patient, he’s the slow-burn everyone talks about.

She looks ahead once again, letting some oxygen in before releasing it. Strangely enough, all frustration is washed from her body to be replaced with acceptance. Time will bloom what needs to grow at its own time.

🚗

Contrary to what one would believe coming from her, subsidiary bad girl in what the general term means, she enjoys the tranquil night she gets to spend with Hoseok a few weeks later. Was it a week? Because it felt like a longer time had passed by. In the comfort of their hushed conversations, seated on her couch as they watched those movies that he claims are too good to dismiss—action-based, he really likes those, but with a lingering meaning of loyalty and friendship in the back of it all, she finds enjoyment.

Hoseok, even when he cooked for her with all the might in the world, wanting nothing more than for her to try his instant noodles and to watch how fast he is at chopping, is the color red. He’s fast, passionate, enough to take her breath away when she leans on the counter and watches him work, hears him speak about this movie that he wants to watch with her—Kingsman, he claims she’d like it and she is not one to sit down and watch movies when she could be out and about doing something, but for him, she’d do it.

Because Hoseok can bring feelings even in the most mundane of actions. He can speak with such interest that it clings to her soul, leads her closer and closer until she wishes he could finally act upon their attraction, their devilish need to just kiss each other until they burned. It couldn’t be that he is not interested, she guesses, but the green body of insecurity bites at the back of her brain. She is used to men that take the first step on the very first moment, not to the beauty of him as he takes the time to feed her, to have her tasting what he is cooking beforehand so it is just the right amount of spice for her. 

Liking him is all about going forward, not caring that there are no brakes to step on. She wants fast, she wants breathtaking, she wants Lee Hoseok to make her feel like life is slow when in reality she is just an explosion waiting to be ignited.

“I’m not boring you with movies, am I?” He asks after they ate, barely getting through half the movie he was talking about before they had decided to clean up. A lot of mess was caused thanks to the popcorn, the snacks and the food. His elbow rests against the counter, red shirt cladding to his body, matching the rosiness of his pout. 

“No,” She confesses, laughing as she splashes water over the plate she is washing. It’s so filled with soy sauce and spices that she is not sure how she’ll get it off. “Strangely enough, I have enjoyed something that I never do. I rarely sit down and use my TV, but with you...it’s fun.”

“I’m glad.” Hoseok says, making her turn to look at him when she feels his gaze inspecting her facial features. She is not exactly the most gorgeous of people tonight, for Hoseok had crashed too suddenly, leaving her more casual than elegant or ready to seduce him. However, his brown eyes concentrate on the color of her eyes, on the depth of her nose, the curve of it, the shine on the bridge, the curve of her lips and even to her jaw before looking back up once again. “If you’re wondering, I’m having an excellent time.”

“...Huh.” She whispers, licking her lips and swallowing thickly when she feels the dangerous side of Hoseok upon her, the one that Heejung advices her to get away from. The trapping point of him that has her in his arms in no time, could she do such thing without feeling a bit insecure, the moment in which she wonders if Hoseok is as innocent as he makes himself to be or he simply wants to prolong the moment, increase the tension, make her nals cling to her skin in hopes of breathing properly. No one has ever had this power over her. “Well, that’s good news...”

Hoseok gets closer to her, like a repetition of events, lips parting and eyes falling a bit, his eyelids fluttering when he leans forward and has her thinking that a kiss will land upon her lips, finally changing their red and beige to the whole rainbow. Instead, the wet kiss is placed upon her chin, making her open her eyes and frown when she realizes that Hoseok had not intended to give her a kiss—

Instead, he childishly kissed her chin.

Is this a new type of affection she has not known about?

Hoseok’s cheeks flush at that, clearing his throat when he pulls away and laughs about something he is thinking before straightening his back. “I’ll—Uh, I’ll serve us some soda while you finish there.”

She inspects his back as he moves towards her refrigerator, releasing a sigh when she says: “You’re so strange, Lee Hoseok.”

“Did you say something?”

“Nothing.”

Her nerves are in endless synapse when she is seated by his side again, legs sprawled over his lap, his hands caressing her calves and making sure she feels comfortable. The air conditioner is suddenly not enough to calm down the heat that exists around her, in tneed of being closer and closer, catching a few glimpses of the expression of Hoseok’s face, barely illuminated by the television device. He’s calm, she can tell, but he’s deep in his thoughts, much like herself, only making comments ever so briefly, something about the silence being absolutely shattering.

The movement of her legs must have caught his attention, turning to his side when he notices her trying to get out of the fluffy blanket that covered her body. “I’m suffocating here.” She adds in a funny tone, perhaps to break through the tension, and it seems to do the trick. Hoseok takes the edge of the blanket in between his fingers, trying to pull at it and get it off her body.

“Sorry, I think I wrapped you up too tightly.” Hoseok says, reminiscent of earlier that night when he had insisted on wrapping her up nicely, almost tucking her by his side. The touch of his hands around her shoulders has her breathing out a laugh.

“You wanted to turn me into a burrito.”

“I like those.” He comments, raising his eyebrows teasingly before she hits his chest. At that moment, time stops and the movie talks in the background, some action scene that would have caught his attention had his body not been immensely close to hers, her hand caressing just above his heart, ready to cage it in a tight grip and pull it away. His eyes do that thing that he is used to, studying from up close, ready to flirt but not voicing it out. 

“Don’t do that,” She whispers, though her voice gives away that she is sarcastically adding the comment. “Looking at me like that...do you like what you see that much?” She tries to play, though her voice is tiny when Hoseok learns forward.

“Wasn’t it obvious?” He asks in between a laugh. “I’ve been flirting with you since the moment I met you.”

“I noticed.”

“Then...”

Hoseok gets even closer, burning with the need to kiss her when she closes her eyes tightly. The knotted thread of the story seems to be here, the moment in which she finally gets what she wanted from the beginning—to feel the romance in him. Nonetheless, the air is electrifying, too much to bear when the tip of his fingers caress over her shoulder, wraps around her ribcage and tries to place a kiss on her lips, only for them to turn mistakenly and bump noses.

“Ow!” She hisses, opening her eyes and getting to see Hoseok holding his nose, rolling his eyes at the destiny of it all.

“For fuck’s sake—”

The sentence is cut short when she takes him by the back of his neck, knowing that when things weren’t done correctly, she has to take matters in her own hands. The right answer is to press her lips to his, so quickly that she hears his breath halter, only letting go a few seconds later when he relaxes that hand on her ribcage, the other creating patterns on her nape. Hoseok tastes sweet, beyond the food they had, he tastes like victory, like another dream that she has made true. The way he kisses her, fast-paced and yet so precise, shows experience, thoughtful, a natural in movement when his lips part and he takes no time to deepen the kiss, to reach her heart, to grasp her soul. For the first time, she realizes that much like herself, Hoseok can have the upperhand of his decisions, as well. 

Her legs, half on the couch and half on his lap, end up resting around his waist, trying to bring him closer to her and taste more of him. His breath ghosts over her lips, making her breathe harshly to catch her energy back. Demonic, he seems like, in the way he simply can take everything away from her and then give it back with a smile.

“Sorry for all the failed attempts.” Hoseok apologizes, having her laughing when she leans back on the couch, bringing him down with her and trailing her hands down his shoulders, grasping the muscles at his arms, wanting to be caged in the twisted world of falling for him. Soon after, she seeks for his heart, his chest, expands her hands and looks up at him through her eyelashes.

“It took you long enough to land a kiss.”

“Huh, it must’ve been life telling you that anyone would love to kiss me.”

“I never doubted that,” She replies, letting out a sigh when she traces his collarbones with her fingertips. “But, for now, I’m the only one kissing you.”

“Then, do it.” He says, biting down on his lip. “You never hesitate, why now?”

Falling for him is a challenge, not because it is difficult but because he invites her in with playful banter in between, like they want to see who will be able to fall in too deep the fastest. It’s fun, much more when his lips reconnect with hers. Not only fire, like Heejung claims for them to be, but water, air, earth and so much more. It’s second-nature to kiss him, it’s all she wants to do for that night.

🚗

“...So, basically, you have to twist this piece here. Not too harshly, though, you can break it.”

Hoseok chuckles at her words. “Tell that to the muscly man? How original.”

“I’m just instructing you. You were the one that told me you wanted me to teach you how to repair cars.”

“It was an excuse to get your attention.”

“How original.”

To have Hoseok there, in the place in which she feels the most like herself, is just another reminder of how close it feels to have him in her heart. Fearful, strangely enough she is not, but she clings to this moment like she is afraid she’ll lose it. Hoseok has earned such a spot in her tongue that she can’t start a sentence without thinking of him, she can’t wake up without the need to feel his lips, even like an addiction, far more like appreciation. Her phone is never dull anymore, much less is she lonely when Heejung, Leo and the rest of the workers are gone to their houses and she stays behind.

She had never realized how unaccompanied she felt, why she always seeked for more and more adventures to have, in order to gain attention or perhaps, keep someone in there taking care of her. Not that she needs it, she just wants to be able to have someone by her side. Heejung is her friend, but Hoseok willingly stays with her—he talks about her existence like it is beauty sent by the heavens itself, as if there will never be a woman as brave, as valient, as intelligent...when she has always been the exact opposite for someone else. He says it so truthfully, looks at her with such sensitivity, that one would think he feels the same again.

Someone once told her to wait for her twenties, the golden age of youth. The moment in which nothing matters other than feeling alive, and you can do it with people judging you...but it will never matter enough. She feels as though no one had truly looked at her and thought she’d be more than just a die-hard; but Hoseok does. In that smile that he always has plastered, in the feeling of his arm around her waist, in the way he listens and listens and never judges...that is when she realizes she may be falling for him.

Part of her thinks that her golden age must consist of medals, awards, gold, money—it should never have to deal with love, but it’s difficult when Hoseok dizzies her, moves fast enough in his own methodical way that she can only stare in adoration as he takes her spot in front of the car and does exactly as she had instructed. Plenty of times had she liked someone, in a moment or for longer, never had she felt so strongly, so desperately. It’s no wonder she ends up wrapping her arms around his waist, hips pressed to his snugly, lips searching for the curve of his neck before planting a kiss there.

Hoseok doesn’t budge, still doing as he was told, when he finally talks again: “Uh...love, I have a question.” That nickname, so incredibly cheesy for her in the past, is now the only way she can ever imagine being called by him, a few weeks after their first kiss. 

Trailing her hands over his abdomen, soothingly and teasingly, she hums. “I may have an answer. Unless it’s educational stuff, I don’t have an answer for most of those.”

Joy fills him with his laughter, captivating when he shakes his head. “I was wondering if you imagined yourself repairing cars as a job for the entirety of your life. Is this what you want to do now that you’re a racer? Like, a legit one?”

There is no judgement in his tone, but what he says has her thinking. Repairing cars has always been a passion of hers and the conclusive feeling of getting it done is exhilarating. That doesn’t mean...she would have to get a paycheck out of it forever. “...Well, most things don’t last forever either way.” She wants to say ‘nothing lasts forever’ but why is it so difficult to voice it out now? “As long as I am able to help my team with money, I would leave. If not, I’d stay.”

“You’re so caring.” Hoseok says, pulling away from the car and closing the hood with a loud thud. She continues to cling to his waist, hands sprawled over his skin, when he tumbles over to the backseat of the car. “I don’t blame you. You have your family here—Heejung cares about you as if you were her little sister.”

“That’s because I am,” She replies, aware that Heejung wouldn’t be her happiest had she known that Hoseok would be here. This fear she has of her falling in love with Hoseok is palpable through every advice that is thrown her way. 

“Aren’t you letting go of me?”

“You’re expecting me to let go of a man like this?” She asks, hearing his loud laughter when he turns around and presses his back to the car, hands trailing up and down her extended arms. Something about the warmth of him reminds her of the start of a car—once she begins, she never stops, she likes the drive, enjoys it, prolongs it… “So sweet. I literally have never met a man like you.”

“Thank you.” His eyes look down at her lips, pressing a short kiss there before sighing. “Aren’t we going to try the car?”

She raises her eyebrows at that, reaching for the handle of the car and pushing his weight forward before jutting her chin towards the backseat. “We can try the car, why not?”

The expression he gives is of absolute surprise, the tips of his ears reddening when laughter can’t help but be released. Something about Hoseok is lively, not innocent, simply adoring of the life that surrounds him and when the moments of enchantment come over to him, he wants them to exist forever. “Huh, I wonder how we’re trying the car out.”

“We’ll make sure it’s comfortable.” She teases back, taking his face in between her hands and pressing an elongated, delicate kiss, one that has her releasing a breath when she pulls away from him. “If you want, of course.”

Hoseok lifts his body from the ground, standing on his tiptoes and looking around before letting his weight fall on the cushions of the backseat. “No one is going to come here?”

“Nope.” She replies, settling her body over his and pressing a short kiss to his lips. Something about him makes her feel even more alive than usual, as if life has never been this pretty in the past. “...Do you want to?”

His hands expand on her hips, nodding his head. “I’m not sure how your customer would react if they knew—”

“They won’t know.”

“...And that’s the fun.” Hoseok says, leaning back on the seat and letting her chest collide against his, his legs dangling outside of the vehicle before letting his lips drag from hers to her jaw, nipping at the skin softly, the contact of his soft flesh against her cheeks, her jaw and her neck bringing a smile to her face. “More of a reason to want to make you my girlfriend.”

Her hands trail over his shoulders, humming in delight at the sound of his voice, her heart palpitating faster than ever now that she recognizes those words. Seriousness, commitment, things that she would have never considered in the past but now have her chuckling against all the odds. There is only one year like this one, she’ll only be able to live this moment once...and why not enjoy it to its fullest potential?

The type to go all out, she interlocks her fingers with his before nodding. “Well, make me your girlfriend, then.”

Hoseok pulls away at that, eyes twinkling when he asks: “You want to?”

“Yes...” She whispers, feeling Hoseok turn her around until her back collided against the seat, hearing his hiss when he hits his head on the roof, the atmosphere switching from deep to absolute lightweight when she cackles at his antics. “And even more for that. I like me some fun in my life.”

“Alright, alright, don’t make fun of your new boyfriend like that.” Hoseok conquers, making her smile when she looks up at him.

This age of youth doesn’t sound so bad when he is there to accompany her.

🚗

The history of secrecy is simple, easy, created by two people, four matching eyes, two eloquent minds that think outing a briefly created relationship to the world of racing seems like an unprofessional move. The argument is secure—a month of a relationship may seem like the blooming period of the honeymoon phase, the reason why there is a smile always on her face and why there may be a waltz to her step, but from this point on, Hoseok is Wonho and she is the up-and-coming racer that everyone is seemingly talking about. Attending the same event at the same time is more of a reason to pretend they don’t know each other.

Well, more like pretending like this rivalry they had is still palpable and it has not obviously translated into romantic and sexual tension, now in the form of a relationship.

So far, so good, she tells herself as she brings her bottle of soda up to her lips—a soda brand is now her sponsor, there is something about drinks that gravitate heavily towards her team. Heejung is prideful, at least, the frown that had been given to her when she admitted to her relationship with Hoseok now changed into more of a smile. Her career is going good, not skyrocketing, but definitely not staying behind, sporting better uniforms, earning more money than she ever has, leaving all headaches behind and basking into the moment. She wants to enjoy it to utter perfection.

Not to say that it has ever been easy, much less when she realizes just how quickly she has to turn into a normal public figure. Be gone the honesty that characterizes her, now exchanged for the smile on her face as she gives that fake, athlete voice that showcases her as confident and overly spectacular in ever sense. All that leaves her mouth are brand names, the more well-known the better, the higher the price the more interesting. It is something that she doesn’t get used to, but someone else definitely has done the same thing and excelled at it.

Her fingers scratch the back of her head, pressing her face to Leo’s shoulder when she lets out a raged sigh. “I’m so tired. The flashes of the cameras are ruining my vision. I feel like I can’t see from one eye,” She confesses, though she is not one to bask on what bothers her, if the sun is too hot, she’ll only learn how to get used to it. 

“Heejung, can’t we give her a break?”

“We cou—”

“No, I’m fine. I was just saying.” She finishes, lifting her face and jutting her chin out in pride before moving her head over her shoulder. “I only get an opportunity to get my dream coming true, so I’ll do my best at it.” The older woman puckers her lips up at that, staring down at her notebook before sighing deeply.

“Are you sure?” She asks, but before the racer could come up with an answer, she interrupts her. This is not a life that she is used to—behind a steering wheel, she is more at ease, controlling her own life, but the reigns of the press are taken by the masses, by the criticism, where being so much as a woman in an industry like the one she is in is already a downside, wrongly judged, stereotyped, definitely old-school and distasteful. “Listen, I love you, you know this already...but I need you to tell me when this gets to be too much.”

She walks forward, not knowing exactly where to go in this big event, where the food is too expensive to ever be worth eating and all she can do is think about sitting down in the comfort of her home and having the biggest slice of cake to celebrate another paycheck for this sponsorship. “It’s never too much for me.”

Heejung tugs at her arm, bringing her back with a serious expression on her face. “Clearly. You know I don’t like that mindset.” Though, she still moves her towards somewhere, perhaps looking for another interviewer in such a place. “I’m going to tell your little boyfriend to take care of you more often.”

“He takes care of me,  Heejung.” She adds with an eye-roll, aware of Heejung’s hatred towards the man. “You just expect me to date a carbon copy of Leo.”

“You’d be lucky.” Heejung prompts, only to click her pen against her notebook quickly. “We don’t have an interview scheduled, but I heard we’d find Mr. Hong around here—”

Her attention diverted towards the group of people in front of her, all belonging to the team of the grand Wonho. She gives a tight lipped smile to Hoseok’s manager, to which she gets no other than a nod before she has to gravitate towards looking for him. Her gaze falls on his height, his stance, how he seems to be so fitted to be in front of a camera. It loves him, just like how she can’t get him out of her brain, wanting nothing more than to wrap her arms around his waist and seek for the comfort of him, the warmth he radiates from within. 

Instead, she has to stay back, only being called when one of the reporters call for her name, making her widen her eyes as she looks between the cameras and her manager. Heejung whispers in her ear: “That’s Mr. Hong’s program. Go over there.”

“But—”

“Remember, keep the rivalry in between the two.”

No more is told until she confidently struts forward, not wanting to be seen like one to back down from anything. Once by Hoseok’s side, the cameras flash once again, the one recording pointed at the duo as a microphone gets closer to her lips. Her name is called and she can’t help but smile, this is exactly what she has dreamed about the entirety of her life. “...We were impressed by your performance in this season of the Formula One. Anything new planned?”

She leans towards the microphone, looking up at the camera with a smile on her face. “What is there not to be planned? Man, I’m going to be everywhere. You will not get to see the end of me.”

The interviewer, Mr. Hong apparently, now pushes the microphone towards Hoseok, tensing the atmosphere around them when he asks: “Wonho, we’ve seen you grow up in this field and you were beaten by a newbie in the industry. Do you think it’s safe to say you’ve been won over by a woman because of lack of preparation or because, for the first time, a woman is sufficient enough to be a racer?”

A woman, such a powerful title and yet dismissed as nothing in this athletic world. Hoseok’s lips part, looking over at her with absolute remorse, like he can’t hear those words without feeling bad for her. Though, she is not one that needs protection, instead speaking loudly, though the microphone barely captures her voice. “What the fuck does that question even mean?”

 Mr. Hong pays her no mind, instead, settled on getting an interview with Hoseok. The man sends an apologetic gaze her way and she knows Hoseok will find a way out of this. “I don’t think...It has nothing to do with her being a woman. She’s just great. We—Uh, in this industry racers have to learn that we are not endless. Sometimes, someone will win over us.”

“Doesn’t seem like there is much of a rivalry in between you two like the headlines said? Have you gotten over the comparison in between the two? Have you settled on any thoughts about her?”

She doesn’t know why those questions sting, why she suddenly wants to take the microphone and curse at everyone. They want her for the drama, for being Hoseok’s little rival, for the laughs when she gets made fun of. She raises her eyebrows, staring at the side of Hoseok’s face waiting for him to say something. He blinks quickly before a small smile appears on his face. “Uh...I think I can accept someone’s hard work and passion past whatever my thoughts are about that racer.”

“But she’s known as your arch-enemy—”

Taking the microphone in between her hands and tugging it away, she finally speaks into it to defend herself, making sure that she is making herself loud and clear. “You want entertainment? Watch the motherfucking races. I don’t need to be treated like this,” She extends her hand, pointing at the interviewer. “Yes, I am a woman. Yes, I won against Wonho. Is that your problem? Did you bet on Wonho and that’s why you’re so pissy about it? I don’t give two shits about your show, you don’t get to talk that way to me or anyone.” She replies, making sure to throw the microphone at the man’s chest before turning around, hands shaking and legs moving far too quickly as she gets out of there as soon as possible. Heejung follows right behind her, calling her name out loudly.

The patter of the rain over her uniform, her body, is enough to have her freezing when Heejung trails after her best friend. “...Honey, listen to me. Hey, come here!”

She turns around, taking Heejung by the hands and looking into her eyes. “What are you going to tell me, huh?! That I needed to be more feminine, less vulgar, more smiley? I am tired of the interviews. I don’t want to be a product if that means having to be judged by everything I do—!”

“You’ve always been judged, you know this.” Heejung tries to reason with her but she shakes her head, biting down on her bottom lip as she feels it quiver.

She always has, for being irresponsible, for taking things too lightly. “Yes, but I thought I could be myself here. I thought I’d finally be able to stop hearing the fucking scolding about how I need to change. What is there to change?”

Heejung’s fingers grasp at her arm when she is trying to leave. “We’ll figure it out. We just need to talk to them. We have to show them you’re the good one of this story—”

“No,” She says, tugging her arm away from her friend’s hold. She goes over to her car, feeling her phone vibrate inside her pocket and she reaches for it once she is inside, though she keeps the door open to talk to Heejung. “I don’t want to go back there. I’m—” She looks down at her phone, watching Hoseok’s name as he texts her again and again.

“Wait for me.”

“Love, let’s talk.”

“I’m so sorry they treated you like that.”

“I’m staying here.” She finishes after reading the text messages, leaning back on her seat and watching Heejung get dripped by the water outside. “Hoseok wants to talk to me.”

“As he should,” Heejung breathes out, patting her hand against the roof of her car. “I’ll try to fix your career out there, alright?”

“Good luck.” She adds with an eye-roll, hands fiddling with the edge of the door and closing it when Heejung runs inside, welcomed by her husband with an umbrella already opened for her.

That is the type of love Heejung has always wanted for her; trustful, honest, crafted by time. She is not sure if she deserves it, for she has never taken anyone seriously—not until Hoseok, whose life could never connect to hers, everyone would dismiss him as weak and she would be seen ike a tick trying to get the blood of her opponent. She leans back on her seat, arms crossed over her chest as she feels her head fuming with anger. Everything burns, even when it is cold, even the radio has her angry when she pushes the button to turn it off.

In the matter of seconds, the figure of Hoseok rushing under the rain towards her car is enough for her to open the door, wait for him and see him slip inside. His hair is clinging to his forehead, black strands as dark as his eyes when he stares at her.

“I’m sorry.” The promise shouldn’t be quite as infuriating, but she nods her head, dismissing it as if it was nothing that he had said. “Hey, I mean it, I am really sorry. I should have said something else but I have never been asked questions like that—”

She leans her head on her hand, letting out an enraged sigh. “It’s okay, I didn’t expect it either.” She grumbles, biting on the inside of her cheek before slapping her hand against the steering wheel softly. “I’m just tired of being seen as less than you. As if I’m worse. We shouldn’t be compared.”

Hoseok hums at that, running his hands through his hair and pushing it back. “Yeah, that’s right, because we should be equals. We are both talented.”

Something overtakes her, blinking rapidly and engaging her jaw in a tight hold when she turns to look at him. “Is that it? You also don’t think I could be better than you sometimes? That’s why you didn’t say anything?”

Hoseok’s plush lips moisten themselves, newfound anger found on his features when he speaks up. “I didn’t say that, come on. We are a couple, we should be treated as the same—”

“But it sounds like you still can’t accept the fact that I can win, as well.” Her voice grows larger in tone, staring at him in disbelief when Hoseok lets out a scoff.

“Don’t scream at me, first off, you know I don’t like it when people argue like that—”

“I am not screaming at you!”

He raises his eyebrows, biting down on his bottom lip. Something inside of him is suddenly hurt, as if blood could pour out of his body at any time.  “You know, it damn right sounds like you don’t ever want me to win a race again if you’re competing. I also have people working for me and a career to maintain, shouldn’t  we just support each other and not mix our relationship with our job?”

“Oh my God, Hoseok, I’ve won against you once. You’ve won like a hundred times—”

“I know and I’m proud of you but—”

“No, you just want more money. You already have enough, why are you so pressed about me winning against you?”

He tugs his hair in between his hands, a reminder that Heejung had told her that two fires could only grow stronger together before everything dulled out for them. “I am not saying you can’t win against me. I’m just saying that it was wrong for them to treat you like that and that you are working hard. I also will do my best, you can’t expect me not to want to race anymore because you’re now in my picture.”

She lets out an enraged breath, loud enough to push the oyxgen out of her lungs as she starts the car. “I don’t want to argue with you anymore.”

“Okay.” Hoseok says, opening the door of the car and getting out. The action makes her soul ache, so he’d choose staying instead of going with her. “I’ll let you wind up and then, we’ll talk. Text me when you get home—”

“Of fucking course, you’re going to pick going back there.” She whispers, perhaps a bit tranced on what to do. She knows part of her is wrong, but she can’t bring herself to stop talking, in self-defense mode even against someone who cares deeply about her.

“Let’s just stop arguing.” Hoseok breathes out, not closing the door yet and for that with the opportunity to reach for her lips and give her a kiss. Something inside her tells her to pull away, moving her head to the side until his lips land on her cheek, the warmth of his breath against her skin when he sighs is enough for her to feel his disappointment. “Go home safely.”

“What a thing to tell a racer.” She whispers, guilt punching her in the gut when she watches the look of sadness on his face. Hoseok gets out of the car then, closing the door and walking away from the car as if it is meaningless.

It is not, but it feels like it is.

Even through this, she continues to love him, sends him that text and decides to ease through this fight. Maybe, they’ll get to get over it.

🚗

In the span of three months, everything can change.

She’d never realized how tiny her home was until she got a bigger one. How little she got paid until she got a bigger paycheck. She had never thought twice about how easy it was to feel alive when she did racing for fun, than in comparison to now, where everything is about competing. Three months and she has won races, lost them, gotten in, gotten out, and all that has remained the same has to be Lee Hoseok. Her boyfriend, fire that has become water, the waves clashing against each other, calming her down and bringing her to a state of endless relaxation.

Not to say it’s perfect...but the arguments that could ensue die down pretty quickly. Everything does with them. The passion is no longer living for the lifespan of hours, the kisses are softer now in comparison to how strong they used to be...it has changed, like it normally does with relationships, when the honeymoon phase starts to wear off and the love remains, exists, but it isn’t quite as palpable in the air.

Sometimes, she wonders if it is the fact that they are constantly asked about each other in public, from this supposed rivalry they have, that has desensitized their relationship. It has made them dull, wore them off, they have heard enough about the other to get tired, because it feels as though they come in pairs and not the best kind. People want them to be in a constant battle; they want to have a boxing match in a racing environment, she has heard enough about him and he has heard enough about her and while they know the truth, it is also difficult.

Because there is the terrible monster that is envy in the back of her head. Not of him, but of what she wishes they could be. A normal couple, they will never be, and if the news came out there that they are dating—everyone would want to tear them apart.

They’d call them a publicity stunt.

They’d call them liars.

Why is the world so difficult sometimes?

Putting her card down, she is reminded that she is playing poker with Heejung, seated in the mechanic shop she used to work at, now too busy to work there full time. The rough concrete digs in her skin through the fabric of her leggings, watching Heejung raise her eyebrows at the card before releasing a sigh. “Well, you’re playing even worse than usual...and you’re here instead of at Hoseok’s...what’s the matter?”

The matter is that it feels like she is not wanted, not loved, and it’s so stupid because the two of them do their best to show their appreciation for the other. It feels as though she is constantly competing, wanting to be better, stronger, wanting to win, win, win. The thirst for it has led her to change, the spark of mischief long gone for something...dull. She feels like she despises racing by now. “I’ve been ignoring his calls.”

“And why’s that?” Heejung asks, seated on Leo’s lap and being the epitome of happiness. They must have had their boring days...their nights in which they didn’t want to look at each other...and they got through it.

Could she get through this?

“I don’t know,” She says, dropping the cards to her lap and rubbing her hands against her aching eyes. Everything feels to be a thousand times more stressing than it was at the beginning. On any other night, she would have said how much she loved him—because she does, with every bit of herself, and being bored of someone who you love is not the right way to go. “I’m...All we seem to talk about is racing, and you know how I’ve been feeling about that lately.”

Leo, for the first time in his life, stops siding with her as he wraps his arms around his wife’s waist. “Maybe, because that’s all you have in common with him: racing.”

No.

That’s not—

Is it?

All that has connected them was racing and while she had always wanted to have someone who understood her because they lived the same lifestyle, it had never crossed her mind that it’d be this hard. They are in the same world, being constantly compared, constantly thrown against each other in ironies in order to get them to rival. Those words must have gotten to her and while she loves him...more like she has ever loved anyone, it must come from a place in which she connects with him, merely because she feels as though she needs to love him. He’s all she ever wanted: caring, sweet, with the right amount of spice, the perfect amount of passion, given and he gives back as much as he wants.

“That’s not it.” She tries to say, though her phone is once again vibrating and she stares ahead, trying not to look at Hoseok’s name. “Why would you think that?”

“It’s not that you don’t have to have anything in common with your partner,” Leo says. “It’s that you have to have dreams together in order to build a committed relationship. You’re in the same field and constantly plotted against each other, you don’t get to get back from work and sit down with him and tell him all that happened, because you guys always know.”

“But you two work together.”

“We lived very different lives.” Heejung adds in between a laugh, turning back to look at her husband with a smile. “But on the long run, we wanted to have something together. We know we have lives outside of our romance, though. We created something together, we had the same dream.”

“...I don’t get it.” She tries to push, picking up her phone and watching as the call suddenly dissipates into the thin air. He had hung up.

“All I’m saying is that you should’ve thought about what you wanted from him before dating him.” Leo conquers, making her push her lips up in distaste.

What had she wanted?

She had wanted to win against him.

She had wanted to try the fire inside of him.

...Was a relationship ever in their plans or had they gotten too excited?

She shakes her head, standing up from the floor and dusting her leggings with her hands. She pushes Hoseok’s contact on her phone, pressing the device to her ear and waiting for him to pick up. “Well, thanks for the advice, but...I don’t know, I feel like we can make it work. We’re just...We need some...We need to breathe sometimes, that’s all.”

“Whatever you say.”

When he picks up her call, confused as to why she wouldn’t pick up, she feels bad. She feels like a villain, then again, constant in her life but now even more prominent. This is the fairytale that she had always wanted, the dream she never had, the fire she wanted to be burnt by, the passion that she always needed...why does it feel so dull? Why does it feel like the two of them are only prolonging it because they have so much love and respect for each other that they need to stay together? She doesn’t know, she simply gets inside her car and asks Hoseok to meet up with her.

Enough it is for him to welcome her with a kiss, for his arms to wrap around her, for them to try for another night to connect...even when sometimes, it feels like everything is rushed.

A second with him must be better than her youth without him.

🚗

It is a sight to remember. The light of sunshine casting down white curtains, passing through elegantly, washing his body in its illuminence, only leaving his shadow for her. One would never think of that as metaphorical, but it is. With her eyes half opened, one of them closed, jaw aching from tightening it when she is asleep, she realizes she is in her room. Sometimes, she forgets how much she had changed from the moment she met him—that man that she adores, the shadow that only shows he has put his shirt on, looking ahead to the city even at such an early moment of the morning.

He’s not one to be up early usually, much less when he is staying in, but something must have been inside his head. She remembers briefly that he had called her name and maybe, that is why she had woken up. Her limbs extend, spine rotating over itself, straightening her back and her legs, waiting for him to say something else, notice that she has finally woken up. 

He calls her once again and she groans, pressing her cheek to the pillow before releasing a few words at him, albeit sleepily:

“Yes, Hoseok, I’m here.” Sometimes, she’d say the same things when he had nightmares or when he was talking and he would ask if she’s listening. It’s mundane, the way she speaks, like how they had become. All because of the media, that press that had united them at first and now completely pulled them away.

His voice breaks, god, it hurts her head just to remember the sound of his voice when he says: “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” He voices out, cradling his own body with his hands as he speaks in a softer tone again. “I—I feel like I am boring you, and you’re boring me, too...”

He spoke it into existence, just exactly what she had been thinking, and she sighs, pushing the covers off her body and looking up at the ceiling. Losing him, her biggest fear, she doesn’t know what she will feel now that she sees him everywhere if he is no longer hers. “Well, I see where you’re coming from.” She whispers. “Why are you bored?”

“It doesn’t feel the same.” Hoseok says and she stands up, trying to reach for him but stopping herself, instead fixing her shirt and her sweatpants, the ones that had moved over her body in her sleep. “You’re always compared to me, I’m always pushed to hate you. I feel like it has strained our relationship...”

“It has.” She admits, her voice bitter when she closes her eyes tightly. “Hoseok, you’re not a boring guy. It’s—I think we just rushed through it.” Though, she can hear Heejung’s voice in her head telling her that she had told her so, but she would never regret dating him, the only man that could ever understand her fully, perhaps too much. “We were...so excited. We should have been more honest, taken more time, maybe we could have had a better foundation for our relationship.”

Finally, Hoseok turns around, sparing her a look that she would never forget. God, they look drained, devastated, as if they had given their all but it wasn’t enough. Had they never been compatible to start with? Two people that loved each other but could never be together. Four months of trying and trying… “I’m so sorry. This is my fault—”

“It isn’t.”

“It is—”

“Hoseok, we both did it. We both agreed to this.” She tries to reassure him, reaching over to him and patting her hand against his arm. She wanted to hug him, but they are on the verge of breaking up...she shouldn’t prolong this. Some stories are meant to be as short-lived as its beginning. “It’s—We didn’t know better. That happens.”

“...So...” Hoseok trails his voice, extending his hand and giving it to her. “Breaking up?”

“Breaking up.” She finishes, biting on her lip before she lets go of his hand. This was the first touch they had and their last.

When seeing him go, she realizes that her youth will probably not be as golden as it was with him, that it will be difficult to get back that spark that she used to have—that edge, though not angry, incredibly mischievous, really to enjoy life, to take over it.

From now on, she wants to enjoy everything one day at a time.

From now on, she’ll try to be more than just Wonho’s rival. The reason as to why they had broken up.

#wonho scenarios #wonho #monsta x scenarios #monsta x #kpop scenarios #writing #monsta x au #monsta x fluff #monsta x angst #wonho au #wonho fluff #wonho angst #racer!au #the anti-love club #FIRST ONE OF THE BUNCH #i've been working on this for mooooonths #tell me what you think of this!!!

[stellar-alley]

Of Scales and Sea Glass

•Chapter 2•

Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

(Summary: Eddie goes shopping for food with Bev and Bill, then washes the mer’s tangled hair.)

Also shout out to @ambitiousskychild on tumblr for being my beta!

~

The next morning Eddie woke up to the sound of the doorbell echoing through the quiet house. His eyes fluttered open as they drifted over to his alarm clock. 11:00am, holly shit i never fucking sleep in this much, Eddie wondered why for only a split second, before the memories of the day prior resufaced. “The merman…” Eddie spoke aloud, his eyes wide with realization. 

Hastily, he threw his legs over the side of his bed and stumbled out of his room and into the bathroom. He slammed himself against the door and opened it up wide. 

The merman had been slouched over in the tub, head underwater. He jerked his head out of the water after the sudden bang against the door. Breathing heavily, mind still hazed by sleep, he watched as the small human, Eddie, shuffled inside. He rolled his eyes at the sight, relieved that it wasn’t a threat. 

“It’s just me don’t worry” Eddie’s voice was groggy and tired as he waved off the merman’s worries. “I-uh, just wanted to make sure you were okay-” The doorbell rang again, Eddie stiffened, “Sorry I’ve gotta get this but please- stay here,” Eddie begged before leaving the room. 

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Eddie rambled as he unlocked the front door. He swung it open to reveal not just one of the Losers, but two. “Ohmygod- Hey guys!” Eddie’s mood brightened. 

Bill and Beverly both stood on Eddie’s front porch. “Hey Eddie, what’s up?” Bev smiled. Eddie moved aside, allowing his friends to come inside. The three settled into their normal seats in Eddie’s family room. Eddie and Bill on the bigger couch will Bev laid horizontally on the armchair. 

“H-Hows the clean up go-going?” Bill asked as he stretched his hands, sore from the previous day of manual labour. 

“It fucking sucks! It’s so gross. What about you guys?” Eddie stopped himself before he started ranting about all the weird shit he’s found in his pool.

“My aunt and I got most of the stuff cleaned up but now there’s a leak in the roof, so we’ve gotta wait for the maintenance guy to come and patch it up, ” she explained. 

Eddie nodded, then asked, “Bill? How’s Georgie?”

“T-Tired, he hu-hates thunder. The tree in the f-front yard lost a ma-masive branch. My parents told me to go get gru-groceries today,” Bill pulled out a list from his pocket, “Wanna join?” He inquired. 

“Yeah, Big Bill and I were gonna go into town and get some supplies, we were wondering if you wanted in?” Beverly raised her eyebrows at him.

“That’d be great actually,” The mental image of the guest  in his bathtub caused him to realize how much he needed to restock his pantry, “Yeah, I need to stock up,” Eddie concluded. 

The shorter boy glanced down at the pajamas that he wore then back up at his friends, “Let me go get changed then we can head out. Oh, don’t use the upstairs bathroom the toilet… broke,” Eddie lied, but the others didn’t notice. He had a bathroom on the main floor that worked perfectly fine and had no mythical creature hiding in it that they could use.

Eddie checked on the merman one more time and informed him of the recent developments before he got ready and left. Eddie called shotgun as they walked down his driveway, towards Bill’s red Toyota Corolla, Bev rolled her eyes as she hopped into the back. And they were off to the store. 

The trio decided on going to Walmart first as it had most of the things they needed. Eddie walked along the aisle with Bill who pushed the cart, and Bev who rode on the front with her phone in hand, she was scrolling through her list, calling out items she needed for Eddie to put into the cart.

They were about to roll past the fish freezers, when Eddie stopped and signaled for the others so to follow him. “Eddie f-fish? Really?” Bill questions as he turns the kart, Bev hopped off to stand beside Eddie as they observed the fish in the ice below them. 

“Yeah, so?” Eddie’s tone is more defensive than he would prefer, but he needs to feed his trashmouth and fish seemed like the most logical food to buy for something that lived in the ocean. Eddie worried about giving him human food, so he decided to start with the fish then maybe test the waters with something like bread, once the mer regained his hunger. 

“Nothing, it’s just every time I ever offered you sushi during lunch you always talked about your hatred for fish,” Bev recalls a memory from when they were in highschool. 

He gestured for the guy behind the counter to wrap up two of the full salmons, “Well, people change,” Eddie shrugs. He smiled as he was handed the wrapped fish. 

“So what was everyone else up to today?” Eddie changed the subject onto the other Losers. 

“Mike’s on f-farm duty. They had to help f-find one of the sheep that got loose during the st-storm. S-Stan had to work,” Bill explained while he looked over the continents inside of one of the many freezers. 

“And Ben’s mom needed help cleaning. OH! And remember his neighbour with that old ass maple tree?” Eddie nodded as Bev continued, “It fell during the storm, broke an upstairs window. Ben’s mom is pissed,” Bev says with a faint smirk playing over her lips. 

~

Bill pulled up onto their street and Bev was talking about some of the new clothes she was making with one of her old dresses when Eddie remembered he wanted to buy a shirt for the merman. 

“Shit,” he mumbled under his breath. 

“Hm? What? Tired of hearing me talk about fashion?” Bev asked curiously. 

Eddie shook his head. “Oh no, I love hearing about the difference between cotton and polyester. I just remembered I wanted to look at some new shirts while we were out. You don’t have any old big shirts do you?” Eddie asked. He would just lend one of his shirts to the fish, but he was at least 2 sizes larger than Eddie. 

“Maybe?” Bev cocked an eyebrow, “why?”

Eddie blurted the first thing that came to mind. “Growth spurt”

Bill scoffed, which earned him a back hand slap on his arm. 

“I can grow!”.

Bill smirked as he took the key out of the ignition. “Eddie you’re n-nineteen, I think you’re a-a little too old for growth spurts.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered,” Bev put a reassuring hand on Eddie’s shoulder. 

“Thank you, Beverly,”  Eddie made sure to eye Bill as he thanked Bev. 

~

Derry’s resident Badass: Left the shirt in the mailbox for you! Enjoy

Eddie read the text from Bev. He finished putting away all of the perishable items before checking his mailbox. Inside he found a light pink T-shirt. It looked pretty normal until he held it up and saw there were two seashell decals on the chest, trying to mimic Ariel’s iconic shell bra. Oh Beverly…. Eddie smirked at the shirt, recalling the times she’d worn this shirt to sleepovers, it always rode halfway down her thighs. He chuckled at the mental image of the trashmouth wearing this shirt. 

Eddie ended up deboning one of the salmon's he bought, which proved itself to be much harder then they make it seem on Master Chief. After he proceeded to chop it into bite-sized pieces. He contemplated cooking the fish but opted not to as he can't imagine any way a merman would have cooked fish underwater. Once he was back in the bathroom, he took his usual seat on the closed toilet. 

The merman’s head was leaning against the back of the tub, silently napping. Eddie admired his raw beauty and sharp features. He looked very at ease, his lips slightly parted and moving ever so slightly as his chest rose and fell with every breath. A small smile crept onto Eddie's face before it turned into a devilish grin. He held the container of food with one hand while the other slid into the water, with one swift notion he sent a small splash of water up and onto the merman’s face. 

 He woke with a startle, his glasses fell from his face with the sudden motion. The calm expression on his face turned to confusion as he scanned the room and realized everything was blurry. His breath now quick as his gaze landed on Eddie who was cracking up. He scowled while he slid his glasses back on.

“Oh come on trashmouth! God you're no fun,” Eddie nagged. 

The Mer crossed his arms over his chest (ignoring the subtle pain it created) and  stuck his tongue in protest. 

Eddie only rolled his eyes before getting to what he'd brought. “So I wasn’t sure what you ate so I bought you fish. Is that okay?” He looked to the merman for help. He stared at Eddie blankly before his brow furrowed and he held out his arms and made a grasping motion with his hands. Like a baby asking for its bottle. 

“What? You wanna do it yourself?” Eddie asked, a little shocked by his sudden desire for independence. Although he would be sad he'd never feel those soft lips against his hand anymore… He shrugged it off. “OKay…” Eddie hesitated only for a moment before handing it over to the merman. 

He mirrored Eddie in the way he held it. Once he was sure he had a steady grasp over the container, he moved a hand to take a piece of fish out and popped it into his mouth. The merman chewed then proceeded to swallow it. He popped another piece into his mouth, chewed then gave Eddie a grateful smile with a mouth full of fish.

Eddie nearly gagged. “EW! Don’t do that trashmouth,” he grimaced, but his voice was filled with amusement as the fish closed his mouth, but kept the smile. 

Later that day the cleaners came for the pool. Eddie greeted them in the driveway and led them into his backyard. He explained what he needed done as he stood a couple feet away from the edge of the pool. The main cleaner talked about prices as Eddie scanned the pool. 

There was still so much shit at the bottom, he was excited to see it gone. But something shiny caught his eye on the ground. He blinked and focused on the little blue scales that sat about a foot away from the pool. Eddie tried to keep calm as he realized there were the merman’s scales.

Shit, I can’t let these guys see those, even if they are just scales. I cannot let anyone find out about him. 

Eddie continued the conversation he was having with the head cleaner as he took a step towards the pool, placing his foot right beside the scales, blocking them from the cleaner’s view. 

“We should be done in a couple hours or so,” he explained. 

Eddie nodded in understanding, then he kneeled down beside the edge. “Okay good.” He placed his hand over the scales but kept his gaze on the pool. “The sooner it’s cleaned means the sooner I get to keep practicing. I’m planning on joining my school’s swim team,” Eddie lied. He picked up the scales and slid them into his pocket as he stood up. 

“Oh! Well good luck with that,” The cleaner smiled. Once everything was discussed, Eddie left them to do their job. He patted the scales in his pocket as he walked back towards the house, a faint smile played across his lips. 

~

The next day Eddie explained to the merman how his pool was now clean and full of water while he examined all of his injuries which seemed to be healing nicely. 

“If I find an easier way to transport you then maybe one day you can go swimming there.” The merman only shrugged in response. That worried Eddie as he would’ve thought the fish would’ve been dying to get back into the water, as that’s where he lived. 

“A-Are you okay?” Eddie immediately moved his hand to feel the creature's forehead, checking for a fever. It was a little hotter than normal but that could have also been because it was scorching hot outside. Eddie slid his hand from his forehead to ruffle the fish’s black mess of curls, something he grew quite fond of doing. But it didn’t go too far as his fingers got tangled in knots.

“God, how tangled is your hair?” Eddie questioned. The merman responded by raking his hands through his hair, only to be met by the same tangles. He simply shrugged. 

Since he’d been in Eddie’s bathtub for the past couple of days, his hair had been able to completely dry, which left it in long thick curls that dangeled into his face. Eddie didn’t mind, he thought it was kinda cute… But now that he knew how knotted they were, he had to do something about it. 

He sighed and stood up, “Well, I don’t know what you guys are doing down in Atlantis, but you’ve gotta start conditioning your hair.”

The merman’s face scrunched up, unsure of what Eddie was suggesting. He folded his arms over the side of the tub and rested his head on top of them as he watched Eddie go through one of the cabinets in the corner. 

When Eddie returned he brought back a bottle of shampoo, conditioner and a brush. He sat on the ground and placed everything beside him. “Dunk your head underwater,” Eddie instructed. 

The merman didn’t. 

“Come on,” Eddie removed his watch and sunk his hands into the water. 

The merman sunk down a bit but stopped right before wetting his hair, as if he was mocking Eddie. 

“Oh fuck you,” Eddie gasped drmatically. He moved his hands to splash the merman. Just as the water was about to wet his face, he raised a hand and it stopped midair, and formed a perfect bubble of water before him. 

Eddie froze. Did it do that? He must’ve taken on a shocked expression as the bubble immediately fell back into the water and the merman’s face turned apologetic, as if he was sorry for frightening the human. 

Something tightened inside Eddie’s chest. The way the merman stopped, just for him, made him feel warm… 

“No, no… It’s okay! I just didn’t know you could do that,” Eddie admitted, his face turning a little red as he rubbed the back of his neck. “C-Can you show me again?” Eddie requested shyly. Sure it’s weird and kinda freaky but that doesn't mean I’m not interested. HE HAS FRICKEN SUPER POWERS!

The merman’s expression softened as a smile tugged at the edges of his lips. This time he pulled a larger bubble of water from the bathtub and held it in the air. With his hand sticking out of the water, he moved his bubble towards him and held it over his head. With the flick of his wrist, the bubble fell over his head, soaking his hair, just like the human had requested. 

Eddie’s eyes filled with wonder, and a little bit of pleasure as the fish boy finally wet his fucking hair. “Cool…”

After the initial shock of the whole superpowers thing settled, Eddie began washing the merman’s hair. First off he squirted a generous amount of shampoo directly onto the mer’s head, then proceeded to massage it into his curls and spread it to cover all of his hair. As he massaged his scalp, the mer released a little moan, obviously enjoying the scalp massage. (Eddie heart raced at the sound of that)

Then Eddie rinsed the suds from his inky black hair and proceeded to add the conditioner. Instead of massaging it in, he grabbed his thick-toothed comb and combed it through. The task took a while as his hair was fairly knotted. 

All of the effort paid off though as once his hair was fully cleaned, Eddie took out the blow dryer. Sure, it spooked the mer at first but once Eddie showed him that it was harmless and only shot out warm air, the merman complied. Though he’s only known Eddie for a couple days now, he’s grown to trust the human, especially considering everything he’s done for him so far. The warm air felt nice on his cold skin, plus he enjoyed how soft hair had become once it was over. He ran his wet fingers through his freshly cleaned locks but was given a light slap from the human, as he claimed, “You’re gonna get your hair wet and gross again.”

The final product left Eddie speechless. The merman’s hair was full of soft curls, they ended just above his neck. The pieces that’d once loosely fell in his face now curled to the side and nicely framed his eyes. 

The merman’s cheeks took on a new shade of pink as he noticed the human’s stare. 

Eddie smiled at his hard work, but he also smiled because of the way the mer glanced away shyly, as if he was a little embarrassed at the sudden gaze on him. Eddie would’ve thought he was cute, maybe even beautiful, but just as the warmth began to spread in his chest, he pushed the feelings. We’re from two different worlds. The reminder brought him back to reality. 

“You look nice,” the compliment brought the merman’s gaze back onto Eddie. He gave the human a small nod, as if to say ‘thank you’. 

~

During the span of a week, Eddie had developed a bit of a schedule on how his days would play out. First he’d go say goodmorning to trashmouth and make sure he’s still alive. Then he’d go make them breakfast, he’s been testing out some new recipes for himself, while the mer still ate fish. Actually Eddie’s noticed now that he’s constantly getting food ready for the merman, he’s started putting more thought into his own meals. Which is a step up from frozen meals and cereal that he was used to. Then they’d eat together in the bathroom. Eddie had taken up sitting on the floor so he could be closer to his trashmouth while they ate. Sometimes the fish boy would shoot him curious glances, staring down at Eddie’s food from where he sat in the tub. So Eddie would put a forkful of whatever he had made out in front of the fish and feed him. Eddie was happy to know he could start branching out in his meal planning. Now that he knew human food wouldn’t upset the fish’s stomach. Most days Eddie tried to give the mer a big breakfast so if Eddie needed to leave for any reason, his guest wouldn’t die of hunger.

As much as Eddie wished he could spend his days beside the tub, uncovering every secret the merman held, he knew if he started acting weird, someone was bound to notice. So he kept in contact with his friends, going over to their houses, inviting them over once the backyard was clean. Sadly he’s had to miss two sleepovers as he doesn't trust the fish to be home alone for that long. 

Eddie even moved Goldy’s fish bowl into the bathroom to keep his trashmouth company. Though she’s on the counter, away from the merman’s claws, he seems to enjoy the company. So now when Eddie returns home from a day at Mike’s farm or something, he doesn't seem as lonely. 

Over the past week, Eddie grew oddly fond of the merman. Sure, he couldn’t talk, but Eddie did enough of it for the both of them. Most of the time he just complained about random things, other times he’d explain human things like technology and phones, and sometimes he’d bring his comics into the bathroom and read to him (carefully as he did not want to get them wet). 

Also, most, if not all of the mer’s injuries had healed pretty well.  The only explanation Eddie could come up with to explain the miraculous chain of events was that mermaids had a better healing factor compared to humans. Which was on one hand, good! He seemed happier now that he wasn't in pain. But on the other hand, Eddie knew once he was fully healed, there wouldn’t be a reason to take care of him anymore, which would mean he’d have to… Eddie shook his head, dismissing the thought and returned back to the present, where he was removing the bandages on the mer’s chest. 

The one he had yet to take off was the one that sat on the mer’s cheek. He was slightly worried that out of all the injuries, that would be the one not to heal correctly. Leaving a messy, jagged scar on a face that would have otherwise been considered perfect. With as much care as he could muster, he cupped one side of the mer’s face with his hand (he ignored the butterflies that had formed in his stomach) to keep his head steady while the other slowly peeled the bandage off. 

He held the bandage in his hand and admired the skin that was now healed. Instead of a nasty scar that Eddie had imagined, all that was left was a simple line that was half the size of the original cut. Eddie thought it made him look even cuter, in a badass type of way. 

Eddie realized a moment too soon that he’d been staring longingly at the merman who’s cheek he still cupped with his hand. He was about to move away when the mer quickly reached his hand up towards the back of Eddie’s neck and pulled him down. Before Eddie could even process what was happening, their lips smashed together. For a second he couldn’t believe what was happening. Their lips moved together as if they had kissed dozens of times before. The mer’s tongue moved into Eddie’s mouth, snapping Eddie back into reality. He hastily pushed away, falling back onto the tile floor. 

The merman let out a gasp, as if he was gasping for air. His breaths became quick as he held onto the side of the bathtub. “OH THANK GOD! I Don’t know how much longer I could’ve kept that shit up…” He was breathless, but still, he spoke.

Word Count: 7604

Guys when I tell you I loved writing this chapter, I mean it. Literally, that ending scene? I’ve had it planned since the day I came up with the idea for the AU, and I’m ecstatic that I finally get to show it to the world. So I hope y’all enjoyed it as much as I did. 

Don’t forget to comment, like and reblog to show your support!

And until next time, 

So Long and Goodnight.

~

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