#i was screeching like this entire issue

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

I LOVE when Sonic purposefully acts like an embarrassing third wheel and ships all his friends 🤣

(I know he then implied as a duo but let me have this)

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic #sth #sonic idw spoilers #sonic idw issue 64 #sonic idw issue 64 spoilers #silver the hedgehog #blaze the cat #silvaze #idw sonic #idw silver #idw blaze #idw silvaze #sonic is such a goofball #he ships Knuxouge too #he doesnt want a relationship himself but loves to tease others about theirs #i LOVE him sm #i was screeching like this entire issue #HE'S SO CUTE

[mid-nightowl]

untitled lil fic #1 (jason todd and gotham war)

here's some gotham war rewrites i needed to get out of my head, the brainrot was killing me omg

warnings for violence, cursing, whatever the hell Bruce is doing (just Bruce as a full warning tag, the man is more unhinged than Joker in this)

---

“Oh Jason. How I’ve missed you, my sweet boy.”

The words are sickeningly sweet, poison-saturated words falling from bloody red lips. Delivered with a crooked smile, Joker looks up at him, uncaring at his position. His fingers curl in the clown’s suit collar, lips curling with a snarl.

Jason punches him again, the clown’s jaw cracking and his body straining against the ferry railing. Joker merely giggles, head lolling around through the air before his mismatched eyes meet his mask. 

“Shut the fuck up!” He snaps, unholstering his gun and digging the muzzle into Joker’s cheek.

His murderer raises his hands, waggling his fingers in surrender, grinning and smirking and smiling. 

He hates it, he hates it, he hates it. 

“I want you to think about this real carefully,” He digs his gun into his skin. “This could be the last joke you ever make, you understand? That’s what you want to go with?”

“You know,” His nightmare giggles, chuckles like a wind-up toy before he wipes the amusement off his face. The clown looks up at him, head tilted, pleased and patient and thoughtful. There’s not a single sliver of hate and destructive menace, or anger or disappointment or suspicion. 

Wrong, wrong, wrong, he thinks. There’s something wrong here. There’s something wrong with Joker—and not in the usual way. 

“The best jokes deliver a difficult truth, but hide it with a fun fiction,” Joker explains, smushed but coherent words strung together despite the gun halfway in his mouth. “Without humor all we have left is being mean and lying.”

“What?” He can’t stop the words before they stumble out of his mouth. He doesn’t let the gun go lax in his hand despite the way the clown’s words throw him off guard. 

Off-kilter is a genuine feeling that digs into him, shocking him to the core. The clown does this, he knows it. He knows this is how he does things, how he worms his way out of every situation and every attempted manslaughter, he knows how the clown operates, intimately. 

Jason knows him. 

Joker, historically, has been so many things. But he’s always been a psychotic, impulsive mass-murderer. Someone without restraint, without limitation. 

It’s why he’s always been Batman’s true nemesis. Bruce, he needs a fine-tuned control of everything and everyone. He is someone who has limits and restraint. 

Controlled, focused, and without limitations—Jason is almost the happy medium to both of them. 

Almost.

The three of them are similar, different, opposites and identical. It’s like walking in one of those mirror mazes where you can’t tell who the real you is. 

Who is the real Bruce Wayne? The man who cherishes his children or the one who maims them?

Who is the real Joker? The cold, purposeful mass murderer or the dumped-in-acid man who can’t tell the difference?

Who is the real Jason Todd? The bloody crime lord or the declawed crowbar wielding vigilante?

Joker simply smiles and pats his arm, as if Jason’s not trying to kill him.

He slams the clown against the railing again, snarling. 

“Enough games!” He growls and flips the safety off. The noise doesn’t even phase Joker, if anything he grins harder. His mismatched eyes—one red-brown, one green—flick above them before returning to his. 

“Are you really going to use that big bad gun of yours with Daddy watching? He’ll be so mad at you.” His murderer grins, letting his head hang limply in his grasp.

“What? Batman-!” He jerks back, head snapping up to the ferry roof cover. 

Empty. No looming monster demanding a painful compromise is here.

Joker’s hands push him back, and he grunts, stumbling into the ferry wall. The clown tumbles over the railing, disappearing from view. His laughter haunting the air. 

“No!” He shouts, dashing to the railing. 

The clown is gone under the waves and ice, sinking into the dark of Gotham Harbor. 

He’s not dead. He can’t be dead, Jason thinks, gripping the ice-cold railing, I haven’t killed him yet.

He’s not dead.

But that was mean. 

--

The last words Jason hears remind him of his grave. 

No, not the one he was buried in. Six feet of dirt above him and smothered in satin, watched over by that stupid weeping angel.

There’s a memorial in the cave with his name. ‘Good soldier’ and nothing else but his name. Both of them: Jason Todd and Robin. 

A monument to Bruce’s failure, his greatest mistake, a grave to his complicated teenage years, his love. 

“You’ve always been a good soldier. Rest now.” Bruce told him, jabbing him in the neck with the needle. 

A grave, a memorial, a monument. It makes him sick. The reminder that he will always be the dead Robin, the sad Robin, the angry Robin. 

Dead, dead, dead.

The violence done to him, inflicted and imprinted into his skin and bones was more important. The guilt and the lesson were more important than his cries for justice, for his life’s blood.

The monument and altar, raised after his murder, were never for him, but for Bruce.

He was dead, why would he care?

The story Bruce will tell would never be the truth, just excuses and wrong-doings. He would take accountability after the fact, but not before. 

Bruce would let his murderer walk and let him rot. 

Maybe that was why he buried Jason six feet under, so he wouldn’t have to face the decay and decomposition. That he could keep this golden, blurry image of him as Robin, as the straight A student, the good son. And not a weightless body splinted a thousand different ways to look human. 

But now that he’s resurrected—not in Bruce’s image, but as something broken and jagged, something lost and filled with dirt and green-green-green—Bruce refuses to acknowledge him. Refuses to believe this is who he is. 

Refuses to believe that he remade (destroyed) himself from the ruins, from the broken bones and empty veins and black thread that mended his corpse back into the image of Jason Todd. Refuse to think that if a girl can come back as a soothsayer, that a boy can come back as a gun. 

“Hnnng…Bruce,” Jason groans softly, heaving himself off the couch. 

Batman turns to him, looming with his face mask in his hands. The fluorescent lights, a nauseous lime-yellow, cut over his figure, his face, his mask. Almost a green-green-green, almost a pool of rage, almost a pit of madness.

His mask crackles alive in Bruce’s hands, Selina’s voice wavering between annoyance and worry. 

“Red Hood? Hood, please check in and let me kno-” Batman clicks his comm off. 

The resounding silence smothers him. 

His exhale comes out shaky, his heart beating too fast behind his bruised ribs, a chill crawling over his exposed skin. 

Something’s wrong. Something is very wrong. 

“...Batman? You…” He swallows roughly, mouth filled with dirt and blood and thread. “Wha…What did you do?”

“Nothing I’m proud of, Jason.” 

His heart sinks and skips a beat at the same time, stomach twisting with anxiety and fingers trembling against the ugly brown couch cushions.

Inhale. 

He pushed too much.

Taking Selina’s side?

He went too far.

Hood didn’t kill anyone?

Exhale. 

“Hh! Ho…” Jason croaks, getting his boots on the ground. “Y-you…you..”

“Take deep breaths, Jason.” Batman turns back to the computer hub glowing behind him, ignoring his attempts to speak, to demand answers. 

His arms shake as he holds himself upright, but when he tries to stand instead he chokes, falling to his knees in front of the couch. Gasping for air, he lays his palms flat against the cool tiles. His legs are quivering, heavy and unable to hold his weight. 

His whole body trembles with it, this feeling unfolding through his blood and bones, engulfing his head and voice. 

Fear, fear, fear.

“Years ago I created my backup personality, Zur, using techniques I learned from an old mentor and this machine that I built,” Batman starts, monitoring the screens in front of him with one hand on the keyboard and the other on his belt.

Bruce doesn’t turn to look at him, to face him, someone he calls son, someone he considers family, and explain what he’s done to Jason.

He never has. 

“I can’t change your personality with it, Jason…” Batman sighs, low and quiet. “But I can add to it. A small thing: your failsafe.” 

Failsafe. He slams the heel of his palm on the floor, cheeks tingling with his telltale sign of tears. A failsafe?!

Because Red Hood needs a failsafe instead of justice.

“What?!” He tries to snarl, to hiss and yell and scream his rage. But his voice fails him, anxiety chewing at his throat and tongue, voice tilting too high, too unsteady, too weak. 

“Now when you have heightened adrenaline, when you’re about to do something dangerous, your fear kicks in,” Batman continues explaining. “It…I’m sorry Jason. But it’s the only way.” He clenches his eyes shut—inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale—and tries to ignore his rabbit heart battering against its cage, pounding to the frantic rhythm of fear, fear, fear.

“I love you.” 

The words feel like gunshots, the knuckle prints on his skin after the two of them fought over Penguin, the smack of Selina’s whip against his fingers, the crowbar on his skull, his legs, his ribs, over and over and over. 

“I love you, but you are a murderer,” Bruce condemns him, over and over again. “You’re a bull in a china shop and I go round after round with you, trying to figure out how to help make you a better man, to heal you.” 

“H-heal me?” He whispers, rage cut off at the roots. “This isn’t…this isn’t you, Bruce.”

Batman, finally, turns to Jason. He looms, tall and foreboding, darkness dripping around him, drenching him in fear, fear, fear. 

Batman takes a step forward and he crashes back against the couch, spine digging into the wooden frame painfully. 

He can’t breathe. Batman moves and he knows it in his bones, knows it down to the scars Gotham and its guardian have left on him, that he’s not here to save him, to help him. 

“I got you a new identity. A place in Metropolis.” Batman keeps walking forward, despite Jason’s growing hyperventilation, despite the way his blunted nails scratch at the floor. Despite the way he shakes, black stitches snapping apart, the pieces of him falling to the floor of this slaughterhouse, at the feet of his butcher. 

“B-bat…Batman,” He whimpers, hand twisting into the fabric of his suit. 

“You can live a normal life. Fall in love, do meaningful work. This isn’t punishment, Jason,” Batman kneels in front of him and removes the cowl. “I love you.” Jason shrinks back, shoulders back and legs curled to his chest. Bruce’s face is sharp and pale, with bags under his eyes and days old stubble on his jaw. 

His eyes are dark with absolute rage. 

Batman is going to hurt him. Batman is going to hurt him.

Bruce is going to hurt him again. 

“This is a gift. Any way you look at it, you should be in prison for all the people you’ve killed,” He chokes at Bruce’s words, barely smothering the terrified cry in his throat. “This is me saving you from that. Save you from yourself.”

Jason can only stare at the man before him—the man who took him in, who raised and trained him, who loved him—does his best to bury him.

fear, fear, fear. 

--

“Please..don’t…please,” Jason pleads, covering the girl with his frame, caging her in with his bruised and burnt arms.

“Let’s begin.” Scarecrow’s voice reverberates, it shakes through air to match his erratic breathing.

“P-please, I’ll do anything you want, anything,” He begs, fear, fear, fear burning in his veins. “Please. Just stay…stay away.” 

Scarecrow closes the gap between them, rocking back and forth on his crooked, long legs. His mask distorts and mutates, a familiar green-green-green splashing over the darkened void of his gas mask.

“You’re going to die tonight. I know you know this,” Crane looms over him, green-green-green trickling out his eyes, gushing out like an open wound. “But we can still have fun, can’t we.” 

The girl trembles underneath his chest and Jason tries to smother the whimper begging to pour out his lips. It’s gnawing at him—rabbit heart frantic in his chest, hands trembling from the burning pain and anxiety, smoke and ash gathering in his lungs—fear, fear, fear.

He can’t think of anything else. 

“Those fools were right. Your terror…it’s real and it isn’t mine,” Scarecrow sneers, kneeling in front of him. “There is no thrill in driving terror into the heart of a baby bird.” 

Scarecrow takes his jaw in his hand, needles tickling at his exposed skin, forcing Jason to look at him. He can’t help but jerk his head at Crane’s touch, needles pricking into his cheek when Crane holds him tighter, another inescapable cage around him. 

His chest heaves with every shaky inhale-exhale, his anxious fear fanning over the rogue’s mask. Scarecrow leans in closer, the glass over his eyes gleaming, reflecting the fire roaring around them. Jason can hear the screams in them, watching the shadows morph around them and the straw on Crane’s shoulders wiggle. 

“This is my moment of triumph, and it is snatched away from me by..by him?!” Scarecrow shakes Jason’s head in his hand, needles scratching into his skin but still not drawing blood.

Scarecrow lets his head drop, needles disappearing from his sight before they’re clawing at his throat, wet and cold against his clammy skin. Jason whimpers and clenches his eyes shut, unable to do anything but beg. 

He knows praying for someone to help him is futile. 

No one is coming to save him. 

“Never let it be said Scarecrow has no pity,” Crane says, voice cutting in and out his head like radio static. “I will quickly finish what your daddy started.” 

“Doesn’t mommy get a say?”

A voice slices through the flames licking at his skin and the fear smothering him. And when Jason’s gaze finds him, he can’t help the tears. 

“Step away from the vigilante, pervert.” Joker grins, dark red lips stretched too wide, too thin. Ash rains down on his green-green-green umbrella, rolling down the crooked dark patches and shamrock-colored nylon. 

“You’ve already killed him once. It’s time you learned to share, Clown.” Scarecrows speaks with thin, razor-sharp disdain, glaring over his shoulder at the newcomer. 

“You should know this by now, Doc. I don’t play well with others.” The clown throws aside the umbrella, knife materializing from thin air as he descends upon Scarecrow.

“You’re not even really him, are you? Do you think I don’t know about you? Delusions and megalomania with-” Scarecrow baits and taunts the clown, before the two of them are ducking and weaving and slicing at each other with barely concealed rage and annoyance. 

“Blah, blah, blah. Do you know why you’re always going to be a C-List villain, Johnny?” Joker jokes and Jason can imagine the sharp grin on his face. “Because doctors aren’t scary. They’re annoying.”

He ducks his head down and curls tighter around the girl. She cries underneath him, hiccups soft under the roar of flames closing in on them, the screech of metal on metal and creaking of deteriorating wood. 

He can’t move. He can’t do anything but try to breathe. But all he tastes is smoke, choking him, billowing down his throat and in his lungs. His heartbeat is so loud, jumping under its bone-cage, a heady, heavy thing—badump-badump-badump-badump. It’s too fast, erratic, out of control.

“You’re a bull in a china shop and I go round after round with you, trying to figure out how to help make you a better man, to heal you-”

Always out of control. Jason whines, hands scrambling against the wood below him. It burns, seering through his fingertips. It hurts-it hurts-it hurts, he can’t do this. He can’t.

He can’t breathe.

“Ahhhh! Ack! Achhhhh!” Scarecrow screams, guttural and wobbly and when he looks up, Jason can only watch as Crane crashes through the fifth story window. 

Tears continue to stream down his face, his heart trembling in his chest and the realization strikes him then, cracking down on his skull like a crowbar, over and over and over. 

Joker saved him. Joker saved him. Joker saved him. 

His murderer saved him.

 “A-are you real?!” Jason cries out, fingers curling into the withering floorboards. “Is this real?!” 

“Oh, don’t worry about him. I didn’t even give him a real dose of Joker Gas. I ran out. Heh!” Joker laughs, rubbing at his jaw. Blood and green-green-green stain the edges of his mouth, smeared down his chin and throat before disappearing under the orange sweatshirt he’s wearing. 

“But now, it’s just you and me. And…your daughter? Did you have a daughter and not tell me?” The clown tilts his head in question, tucking away the green-green-green gun in his hand. He steps closer, uncaring of the flames licking over his pale skin.  

Jason can’t tell if it's real or an illusion, can’t tell if his murderer is here and saving? rescuing? tricking? him. He can’t tell if this is just another nightmare he’s trapped himself in, or if this is the real punishment Bruce promised him. 

“She’s just a kid. Please…don’t,” He pleads, the tears searing down his ash-stained cheeks. 

Joker leans down, bringing his face close to Jason’s. His mismatched eyes—one green, one red-brown—bore into his and the clown smiles, too wide, too cracked and broken, too bloody and green-green-green. 

He sobs, cracking under everything. He can’t do this, he can’t. 

“My, my. Even like this you still think you’re the hero. Batman would be proud if he didn’t hate you,” His murderer says, before his bony hand is cupping Jason’s face, calloused fingers dancing over his skin. 

Jason clenches his jaw when it threatens to wobble and tremble, but knows the fear is shining in his eyes. Knows the clown can see it, knows he recognizes it in his baby-blues. He’s been here before.

They’ve been here before, together. 

“But don’t worry my sweet boy, I’ll find a way to fix you. Nobody is going to hurt you. I won’t let them. Because I need you.” His voice is honeyed and threatening, curling and clawing and cloying into his head like a sickness. Joker pets his hair, gentle and caring, and Jason knows he means it. 

He’s going to fix him. He’s going to heal him. 

He’s going to save Jason.

“Don’t worry, sweet boy. We’ll see each other soon,” Joker pats his cheek with a crooked green-green-green smile. “I promise.” 

His heart beats frantic to the words—fear, fear, fear—eyes unable to look away from Joker.

Jason believes him.

#unholy screeching and too much caffeine #my writing #the brainrot was literally killing me i wish i was joking #havent been able to FOCUS on anything else #i just cant get over divorced batjokes playing tug-of-war with their murderous and highly traumatized kid (jason) #im not entirely sure if i like this? it feels very rough draft to me #but i really just needed to get it down and out of my head so i can focus on my other wips T-T #would also love to hear anyone's thoughts if they have any<3 #might have missed some grammar stuff and yadda yadda but im kind of tired of looking at this:)))) #i do think i want to add to it thou--maybe a scene with selina another with the batkids #ill probably come back to this after the final issue for the actual event (which comes out next week!) and joker's comic #i just really wanted to write how jason was dealing with all this; how he might take the fact that joker is saving his ass rather than bruc #but im not sure if it came across the way i wanted it to?? #jason todd #jason todd and bruce wayne #jason todd and joker #writing

[wonryllis]

daddy issues, my little girl (m) | park jongseong.

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ぃ ────𝗶𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝘄𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝘆 𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘁𝗹𝗲 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹,

preview. you had always had daddy issues, for as long as you could remember. so when jay came along with his caring nature, how could you possibly keep your feelings at bay? not to forget, your roses of love have wilted long before you even knew what love meant but jay, he’s here at your doorstep with a watering can. will you be able to refuse?

or where, new neighbor dr jay park is asked to babysit you over the week. ironically the only man you have ever had a crush on. you are so determined to put aside the feelings but jay makes things so much harder. he is way too sweet and caring and you are way too pessimistic and insecure. how is it going to work with you gravitating towards him in inadvertence and jay welcoming your presence with candor radiance? especially with all of your buried issues coming to life more than ever. false hopes and reserved secrets, reluctant truths and feelings that linger deep. he is right there, two doors away to reach. so why is it that love still feels so far?

meet the cast. daddy park jongseong(jay) with his doll fem!reader

genre. neighbour to lovers, age gap (like 7 years), romance, SMUT MDNI!!, comfort angst, fluff, happy ending, doctor(might change that)!jay with his precious girl. jay literally always at his girl's beck and call, he cares about you a lottttt trope. the "i know you can do it, but let me do it for you" trope. kinda ddlg concept idk? he's like your pillar, comfort person and just everything you have ever needed. practically your dream man come to life. subject to additions later on.

word count. 18-19k so far, est around 35k revamp + second installment.

warnings. DARK THEMES: hints of: daddy issues, attachment anxiety, inferiority complex, abandonment issues, depression, childhood emotional neglect, philophobia, insomnia, social anxiety, hints at emotional/psychological abuse, gaslighting, hints at being suicidal, people pleaser syndrome, mommy issues, thantophobia, atelophobia, atychiphobia, pistanthrophobia, avoidant personality disorder, body dysmorphia. more could be added on release and nsfw warnings will be mentioned in full fic.

theme song. daddy issues by the neighborhood and future by red velvet. on the side you can listen to: love letter by bolbbalgan4, adore you by harry styles, pacify her by melanie martinez, cool kids by echosmith, your existence by wonstein, teenage dreams by katy perry ..

RELEASING. TBD, progress ! 57%

"i’m home!” slipping off your converse, you put the pair inside the shoe cabinet near the entrance and close the wooden door in a sigh before trudging in. the lights in the living room are dimmed, something your parents would never do. it catches you a tad bit off guard but nevertheless you try not to think too much. considering the silence surrounding you they most definitely are out for work and as usual forgot to turn off the lights. with cautious steps you walk futher inside, with all intention to sneak in a pack of chips from the kitchen like a thief even though at this point you’ve practically come to the conclusion you’re home alone, but one can never be too careful.

a cat like shriek leaves you when your eyes land on the back of a figure sitting on the couch, your phone almost slipping through the grasp of your fingers as your eyes widen in shock. startled, your heart more or less stopping in a screeching brake for a split second.

the man visibly flinches at the sound of your voice,“who are you?!-” standing up and turning around to face you,“jay?”

“god y/n, you’re gonna make me deaf,” he complains, face contorting into a tender, teasing expression; a small smile gracing his lips as he walks around the couch and leans against the top of the backrest. you watch as he looks at you, so softly that it makes you wonder, has anyone ever in your entire life looked at you like that? a look radiating such gentleness. maybe not, not until now that is.

“you got home early today, i thought you’d be out for two more hours?” his brows raise in a questioning manner as his gaze shifts to go over the time showing on your living room clock.

“uh, well i was working on a project the last few days but i finished it yesterday so,” you speak unsure if you should even be telling him this instead of asking what he’s doing in here.

“oh okay, that’s good,” taking off his overcoat he walks into the kitchen, folding up his dress shirt’s sleeves on the way,“what do you want for lunch then? do you want to eat takeout? or should i cook you something? you must be hungry,” he takes out a bottle of cold water from the fridge and pours in a glass for you, sliding the cup on the countertop towards you as you approach the space in hesitant and confused steps.

his questions dumbfound you, leaving your brain at a loss, still dazed from his presence before you,“what? why are you asking me that? and what are you doing in my house?” you ask, looking completely clueless when jay turns to look at you expecting it to be some kind of a sarcastic remark. but the lost look in your eyes has him surrendering even if it does turn out to be some joke.

“taking care of you,” jay smiles, straightening his posture in an upright position and moving closer to the counter across which you stand,“technically, babysitting,”

“babysitting? me? but,” it baffles you, is this some prank or are you supposed to know something you don’t? your mind’s mechanical gears slow down, friction arising in between them. you don’t remember anything regarding or relating to the term babysitting. there’s no way he’s serious.. right?

“doll, didn’t your parents tell you they’re gonna be out on a business trip for a week? they asked me to look after you while they’re gone,” what.

yes these past few days when you couldn’t catch a hidden, one-sided glimpse of him in the elevator you did feel weird. and you definitely did subconsciously wish to run across him again, even though you were on a mission to avoid him, but this; this is not what you would’ve liked, this is not what you wanted. this is far from what you can handle, what your messed up self can accept.

“no?” the look on your face has jay almost spilling a laugh, the way your features contort to a whiny crying expression. how cute. he thinks.

“that’s okay, now you know,” trying to imitate you, he scrushes up his nose in a slight pout, reaching out to pat your head twice. and there goes your heart. you never thought you’d like head pats this much, you only remember getting them twice from your father but it felt different. it used to annoy you because he would mess up your hair but the way jay caressed your head it felt you had accomplished something, so gentle and careful yet still close to a ruffle.

taglist ( open. ) @s00buwu @lilyuwon @pockyyasii @nctislifue @lheebra @boyfhee @defnotfertilizedtoesw @brownsugarbaybee @skylaly @sparklovespink @luvyouchuu @ming-h0e @cha0thicpisces @butterflywonie @kgneptun @haechansbbg @m3chigo @wonsbaer @woncine @eneiyri @siyen @wonyoungsvirus @heesquared @enhafim22 @velvtcherie @ineedsomezzz @simjyunnie @seochangbinnnnnnnnnnn @wonkifangirl @sweetwonieee @luvnicho @fakeuwus @sunpov @notevenheretbh1 @kaykay11sworld @saurxcream @shawnyle @monstaxdirtywonk @wannieepisod @woozixo @sophi-ee @rikiwaify-blog @fluerz @iselltulips @belowbun @yunjinsbbg @enhasnuggles @enhaswirlds @enhastolemyheart @jooniesbears-blog

#( 🩰 ) 𝐝𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲 𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐮𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥! #enhypen imagines #enhypen smut #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen oneshots #enhypen jay imagines #enhypen jay smut #enhypen hard hours #enhypen hard thoughts #enhypen scenarios #enhypen heeseung imagines #enhypen heeseung smut #enhypen sunghoon imagines #enhypen sunghoon smut #enhypen jake imagines #enhypen jake smut #enhypen x you #enhypen x female reader #enhypen x y/n #enhypen jay x reader #enhypen drabbles #enhypen headcanons #enhypen reactions

[utahimeow]

cw — reader and gojo have a daughter, established marriage, gojo is sad but reader comforts him

satoru gojo is not a man of many fears. heights, spiders, needles, death—fearing these is alien to a man who’s looked death itself in the eye and refused to let it touch him. however the words that his five-almost-six year-old daughter just uttered send shivers down his spine.

he’s frozen, eyes wide, face pale. he thinks his lungs stop working and his heart stops beating.

big, blue eyes round as a bug’s stare up at him, oblivious to the implications of it all.

the sentence echoes in his head like a taunt. he thinks he’ll hear it in his nightmares tonight.

then, her little hand as she tugs on his pant leg yanks him back to reality.

“daddy, i said my tooth fell out!”

satoru gulps, gaze falling to the crumb of bone in her hand, then to the tiny gap that’s now in the front of her mouth.

he didn’t think it would happen so soon.

you’re home from work not long later and the girl rushes to greet you at the door, screeching with delight to announce the loss of her tooth to you.

you’re gasping dramatically, gathering her up in your arms as she gives you a gummy smile so wide her eyes scrunch shut. staring at her is like looking in a mirror, a perpetually perfect reflection of you and your love combined into one small being.

“it didn’t hurt, did it?” you ask her.

“nope! i didn’t even cry,” she tells you, beaming with pride.

“oh, how brave you are,” you tell her, kissing her soft cheeks, grinning as her giggles bubble throughout the entire foyer.

she wriggles out of your grasp and then she’s off again, bounding back upstairs to her room to the pile of plushies upon her bed so she can continue to brew up tales and backstories for each of them. now that both her mother and father have heard her big news, she’s satisfied enough for it to no longer need to be on her mind.

you’re not surprised to find satoru in the kitchen, rummaging through the snack cupboard. you are surprised at the fact that he doesn’t turn to greet you like he always does. with a pout, you stride over to his towering frame and snake your arms around his slender waist, pressing yourself flush to him.

“hi, lover,” you hum.

in your embrace, satoru becomes lighter. the tension in his hard muscles lifts, his shoulders dropping, his back shedding the weight of the world.

“hi, pretty,” he replies, uncharacteristically quiet, yet somehow his voice still drips with affection for you.

“what’s the matter?” you ask him. you’re well aware of your husband’s melodramatic nature, and it’s because of that that you don’t find yourself worrying over his state of despair. still, you’re rather filled with a curiosity—what minuscule nonsensical issue has him down today? did they discontinue his favourite kitkat flavour?

hands migrating up his torso and finding his chest, you squeeze your fingers into the fat of his pectorals. in the blink of an eye, satoru is facing you and his cold hands have grabbed hold of your wrists. he grins down at you softly, amused by your antics as always, but you blink again and his face drops, growing almost grave.

“talk to me,” you urge, prying. his soft grasp leaves your wrists, moving to envelop your hands which drown in his. he brings them to his lips, kissing at your fingertips, making your heart beat in your ears and your face grow hot. it’s strange to think he once shrivelled away from your affection, convinced he was not worthy of it.

“how was work?” he asks.

“fine. good. same as always,” you tell him. “but you’re avoiding my question. and your feelings.”

he shakes his head, a child through and through. “tell me about your day.”

“satoru,” you say, stern, and it feels like you’re scolding your daughter for not listening to you. “i hate it when you’re… off like this.”

his eyes pierce through yours then, filled with unspoken apology. then, he exhales, long and hard, a sigh that’s heavy with weariness. for you, he’s learned to surrender.

“our daughter losing her tooth today made me realise that she’s getting older and i can’t stop it,” he admits.

you sigh along with him, half relieved that your conscience had been right in believing that it wasn’t anything serious. well, in the sense that no one had died. the rest of you knows he’s not being irrational. since becoming a father, and even before that, when having children was just a distant fantasy for him, an anxiety had lived inside of him. an anxiety of fucking up, of being inherently unsuited to fatherhood, of the idea that she may suffer the consequences of him being her father.

and now, a new anxiety sprouts.

“true, but we get to watch her grow, satoru. don’t you think that’s amazing?”

he stays silent, mouth forming an absentminded pout.

“i just keep thinking about when she was a baby… how tiny she was, how she would waddle around, and drool on my chest. soon she won’t be my little girl anymore, you know?”

“satoru,” you say firmly. your hands curl around the back of his neck, scratching at the snowy hairs of his undercut. “she’ll always be your little girl. i know that because she’s your whole world, and you’re hers. she may never be that little baby again, but she’ll never be as little as she is now either, so love and cherish her now instead of moping about the inevitable passage of time.”

satoru smiles a dopey smile at you, the same one his daughter has.

“i’m so glad i married you,” he says. his hands are warm now as they settle on your lower back, dipping down, down, down.

you roll your eyes at him, opening your mouth to reply with something witty, but he beats you to it.

“i’m being serious now, baby. you always know what to say when i’m being stupid.”

“when you’re being overdramatic, you mean,” you say, grinning playfully.

“hey, it just shows that i care, doesn’t it?”

you pull him down to your face by his neck and kiss him, moulding your lips against his, tender and warm and home. it’s not just his thoughts that melt away when he kisses you, it’s his entire head, until all that’s left is a man with nothing but his wife on his mind, heart beating for no reason other than to keep him alive so that he can keep thinking about you.

briefly, you pull away, in spite of how he chases your lips with his, because he could kiss you until the end of time and you could do the very same, but there’s something weighing on your mind suddenly.

“if you want a second baby i can make that happen, by the way,” you tell him, your hips pressing against his.

“oh, now you want another one? but every time i ask for one i get an earful? heh,” he says, quirking a brow, but unfortunately for him he’s hard in his pants in an instant.

“yeah, but now i feel bad for you.”

“babe, i don’t want a kid out of pity!”

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo imagine #gojo fanfic #gojo satoru imagine #gojo satoru fanfic #jjk imagine #jjk x reader #jjk fanfic #꒰ lovers. ꒱ — gojo

[hana-no-seiiki]

YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO FIGHT ME NOT F*CK ME!

yan! school grass (most handsome/perfect guy)/rival x crossdresser! male! reader x yan! friends - part one

tw/cw: mention of abusive parents (but not reader’s) and yandere themes. also your rival has some repressed sexual urges, he really needs to get laid or some head or something-

just read migi and dali and gahd NOW I WANNA WRITE A WHOLE CROSSDRESS /GENDERBENDER BL NOVEL IM IN HORRID ROTTING

Like I imagine this the best with stoic and/or tsun yans the best. You know those types that want to be perfect but only feels perfect when they’re with reader.

ive always loved these tropes as a kid, from mulan to that one tawog episode where darwin fell in love with fem! gumball and like this was even before i knew i wasnt cis but gahd AAAAAAA

also inspired by @moyazaika ‘s rival work. go read it!!

but anyways have the fic, lowercase intentional for first part to differentiate povs.

it was a dare given by your friend group earlier last weekend. wear the girls uniform and a wig for the entire month. it was easy to get the materials necessary for the most part. your mother had several wigs and was more than happy to style her son in feminine clothing. she was just amazing and supportive about your whims like that.

it didn’t take long for you to realize that no one recognized you in your new look.

the day started like many of your other ones at the school, you’d race your rival as the first one in class and whoever wins gets rights to a smug look on their face until the next thing you guys eventually compete on.

but unlike the crestfallen expression you expected — nay wanted — from that stupid pretty boy, you were greeted by what you could only described as complete bafflement.

“what?” despite having a different reaction from what you imagined, you managed to keep a composed appearance. “cat got your tongue?”

“ah. . .”

and that were the only words he said to you the entire day. nothing else. not a single groan of anger whenever you answered everything correctly, he didn’t even attempt at stopping you mid-way or disagree with you answer simply because he wanted to annoy you.

and so you couldn’t help it, as soon as the bell rang signalling lunch time you swiftly turned around to face him.

“are you alright?”

you inquired. not at all worried about his well-being at the slightest. you hated him with all your being after all and you didn’t make an effort to be soft with your tone either.

“h-huh?” he looked dazed. like his head had been in the clouds and you just yanked him down to ground.

your rival never got distracted.

“you—“ you reached out about to smack his face to keep him in check.

“if you’ll excuse me!” he smacked your hand out of the way, screeched at you, and then left in a hurry to who knows where.

nevermind that was definitely him. that silly brat hated it whenever you touched him. he must have just been having issues at home again or something.

Haoyu was trembling — shaking uncontrollably as his breaths turned more shallow by the second. His heart was pumping blood in places of his body where it shouldn’t have been in the middle of school hours. Sweat lined his entire skin and it didn’t help how the bathroom he rushed into had nothing to keep the temperature down.

Who were you?

You sat at his rival’s seat. That nasty kid that always got in his nerves. No one questioned the boy’s absence and he would have asked the teachers on what had happened if you didn’t suddenly take his breath away.

You were, ethereal. Otherworldy even. When he first saw you he was taken away by the way your hair moved in the wind (if only he knew . . .).

Still, he was far too distracted by [Y/N]’s absence to properly let the feeling simmer.

Then, all that went away when you reeled in his mind back at you again at class. You were incredible, capable, intelligent, and oh so perfect. But unlike that stupid child that usually sat in front of him, he did not feel an ounce of envy at all.

If only who could see your eyes as you spoke; the tone of your voice conveyed so much passion that he wanted to see in those beautiful (e/c) orbs.

And his prayers were granted by none other than the goddess that is you,

“Are you alright?”

Your voice? Oh your voice! Haoyu’s heard it already of course, but each new time you spoke it was like a whole new melody, a new piece that immediately turned into his favorite.

His mind was too fried with these thoughts, thoughts that his parents would no doubt beat out of him if they found out.

His feels the parts down there suddenly move. He wasn’t completely unfamiliar with the phenomenon. He wasn’t without his hormones after all. But this was the first time it ever reacted that way so strongly, like if he didn’t give it attention himself it’d explode.

“Mmph…”

And for the time in his entire life, Haoyu does something he knew his parents would definitely be disappointed if not livid about. A hand on his mouth, and another in his school uniform’s pants.

lunch time.

you usually spent those studying or preparing for the next class as hanging out with your friends always ended with you being too distracted to do schoolwork but today you had to show up with ‘proof’ that you went through with their dare.

“yiran ? yichen ?”

no response.

you sighed. as usual, the twins were late. what did you expect? those two would be caught dead before they could be early much less found in the library.

and so you spent the entire time reading,

unaware of the crowd that formed around you while you were busy studying.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere oc #yandere imagine #yandere x you #yandere fic #yandere oc x reader #yandere core #yandere harem #yandere various #multiple yandere #crossdressing reader #crossdresser reader #yandere male #male yandere #fem yandere #yanderecore

[mediumgayitalian]

“Come here, you dweeb. Let me fix it.”

Will pouts, dragging his feet over and slumping half on top of him. Nico allows it with a smile and a roll of his eyes, pinching Will’s shoulder. He doesn’t react except for a wounded noise, muffled in Nico’s lap, so the situation is evidently quite dire.

“It’s just hair, Will.”

“But I worked on it!” He shifts around until he’s got his head in Nico’s lap, face turned towards him, body curled up on the grass around him. Nico brushes his tangled bangs off his forehead, meeting his big sad eyes. “I spent forty minutes with a stupid brush! And yet!”

“And yet,” Nico agrees, unable to appropriately school is face into one of somber understanding. Will scowls at him for his lack of proper sympathy, a little bit of genuine hurt in his eyes, so Nico leans down and kisses right between his brows in apology. He seems mollified, if only slightly, or at least he leans into Nico’s touch and stops mumbling quite so much.

“‘S’not fair.”

“Mhm.“

“Your hair listens to your instructions.”

“Yep.”

“Even Cecil’s hair listens to him, and no one listens to Cecil.”

Nico purses his lips thoughtfully. “I think Austin listens to Cecil.”

“Yes, I know. It’s an ongoing issue. I’m trying to train him out of it.”

“And how’s that going?” Nico murmurs, curling a strand of golden blond hair around his finger.

“Oh, well, I’m doing my best, so of course it’s going horribly.”

Nico snorts. He resists the urge to hold his palms to Will’s cheeks and kiss every single freckle at light speed, because he will screech something about how Nico is one-upping him in the romance department or something stupid like that. Instead he settles for looking at his dumb dramatic boyfriend’s face and marvelling over the fact that the cutest boy in the entire world, and Nico is being totally objective, hunts around camp until he finds whatever tree Nico is hiding under and curls up into a ball around him and trusts Nico to hold him while he complains about stupid things that genuinely hurt his feelings a little. It’s nice. So many people at camp are still so rigid around him, like he’s collecting information for their judgement day or something. Will prefers to exercise his lesser-known Apollonian talent of being a bigger drama queen than the god himself.

“Stay still,” Nico says softly, moving Will around so he’s laying perpendicular to Nico, now, head centered in his lap and staring up at the sky. Will sighs and squirms a little and turns his head to press a kiss to Nico’s knee, scrunching up his face and releasing it, and then settles in the position.

Humming something soft that exists on the fringes of his foggy memories, he sinks his hands into Will’s hair.

“It’s not that bad,” he promises, moving slowly and pausing whenever he comes across a knot.

Will harrumphs.

“I mean it, Marilyn Monroe. You can tone down the histrionics.”

“I used gel.”

Nico flicks a dried clump of it onto Will’s forehead, amused. “I can see that.”

“I followed every single one of Mitchell’s instructions!”

“I bet.”

“And yet!”

“And, yet.”

Nico has a sneaking suspicion that someone made a comment about Will’s hair, in the last few weeks. He can never confirm it and Will has been shifty about it every time he asks, but Nico has noticed the uptick in hoods and hats the past month and his little flinches every time Nico reaches up and tugs on it. Despite being oddly confident about the oddest things — why he is so proud of being able to fit his fist in his mouth, Nico will never know — Will is very sensitive to how people think of him. He needs to know he’s liked, and when people don’t like him, he gets…desperate, pleasing. The opposite of Nico, who becomes worse in an attempt to push them away on his own terms.

Nico leans down and presses a long, lingering kiss to his forehead.

“I like your hair, you know.”

“It’s a stupid mess.”

He smooths down a handful of it, pressing it over Will’s eye. He manages to keep a straight face for one, two, three seconds before he huffs a laugh, batting Nico’s hands away. Nico grins.

“I like the stupid mess.”

“Yeah, well, you like a lot of weird things.”

“Like you?” Nico suggests, pressing another kiss to the tip of his rounded nose.

“Shut up.”

Another strange thing about him, that Nico has to duck his head to hide his automatic smile: he gets embarrassed easily.

Nico never expected it of him, with all the dorky, medical-themed pickup lines and general shamelessness in his affection towards everybody on Earth, but especially Nico. When the poking, prodding attraction is turned on him, however, he shuts down like an overloaded Playstation. Nico can sometimes see the error messages playing behind its eyes. It’s hilarious.

“Will.” He pokes him in the cheek. “Hey.”

“What,” Will grumbles.

“I think you’re beautiful.”

Watching the slow spread of red from below the collar of his shirt to the roots of his hair is a delight. Nico watches in glee, wrestling Will’s hands away when he tries to slap them over his face.

“Shut up! Leave me alone! Go — flirt with somebody else!”

“You’d curse them to speak in rhymes for ten years,” Nico teases.

Will makes an agonised noise. “Who! Asked you! Shut up!”

“You’d sic Kayla on anyone who so much as winks at me, you jealous bitch.”

“I would not!”

“You would so. You rolled your eyes at everything Percy said for three weeks when you found out I used to crush on him —”

“I did not!”

“— and you didn’t even have the balls to ask me out, back then.”

“You are a — peddler of falsehoods! A prevaricator, a perjurer, and a fabulist!”

“And you sound like you swallowed a thesaurus,” Nico snickers. He catches the hand Will flails at him, pressing a kiss to the wrist, which only serves to fluster him more. He decides to take mercy when the kisses he trails down his arms result in one loud, long, tortured screech, pulling back and giving him some space.

Notably, he doesn’t move from Nico’s lap.

“I like it,” Nico admits, once Will has calmed down some. “I like that you’ve liked me for so long.”

Will peeks through the fingers he has covering his eyes. “It’s embarrassing.”

“Yes.” Nico squeezes his shoulders. “And endearing, which seems to be your sweet spot.” He presses a much softer kiss to the underside of Will’s ear, lingering there until he sighs, slumping under all the tension finally leaving his body. “I love you, Will. I love your clumsiness and your rambles and your nose and your freckles and your awkwardness and your jealousy and your hair and I love you, Will, all of you. Even the embarrassing weird parts.” He kisses him again. “Especially the weird parts.”

Will breathes slowly, carefully, evenly, face pressed to the inside of Nico’s thigh. His long eyelashes tickle his skin. Nico can feel the press of his Adam’s apple when he swallows, pulsing against his calf.

“I never thought you were a freak.”

Nico brushes his knuckles over his cheek. “I know.”

“I used to — talk about you. All the time. And your oxytocin levels.”

He smiles.

“I know.”

“Lee had a — chart.” Some of the flush rises back up in his cheeks. “A ‘Days Since We’ve Heard About Di Angelo’ chart.”

Nico bites his lip. Hard.

“The number never got higher than six.”

“…I am trying really, really hard, Will.”

Will sighs.

“You can laugh.”

Nico cracks up, trying desperately to muffle his giggles in his bitten fist. It doesn’t work very well, but the glare Will sends him is somewhat softened by the smile twitching at the corner of his mouth.

“Gods, you are — a mess.”

“Mhm.”

Nico cups the side of his face. Will turns, slightly, enough to press a kiss to the centre of his palm and then stay there, eyes closed, breathing against his sword-callused skin.

“I love you too, by the way. Obviously.”

“I know.”

“Don’t Han Solo me, you bastard.”

“Go ahead and try to stop me,” Nico challenges, grinning into the passionately indignant kiss Will presses to his lips, finally, letting Nico curl his hands in his hair.

#i’m in love w rizzed up nico i’m sorry will is such a flailing mess there’s no way he’s the one with game #pjo #percy jackson and the olympians #hoo #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #i’ll acknowledge that will does actually have a fair bit of game but #as soon as nico figures out how to exploit his dorkiness. cmon. #bro as soon as nico finds out how long will has liked him 😭😭 he’s done for fr #nico di angelo/will solace #nico/will #will/nico #solangelo #established solangelo #fluff #100 ways #100 ways to say i love you #whipped will solace #whipped nico di angelo #down bad will solace #will solace #nico di angelo #my writing #longpost

[fadedncity]

give me the greenlight

wc: 19.0k…y'all i genuinely don't know how

pairing: mark x fem!reader

cw: smut, street racing au, childhood friends to lovers, non idol au, college au, lil angst, fluff, mention of other idols, slight allusions to a toxic ex, alcohol consumption, use of marijuana, mark's lowkey a big flirt, switch!mark, switch!reader, auralism, thigh riding, dirty talk, pet names, praising, teasing, marking, fingering, semi public sex, car sex, oral sex (giving/receiving), exhibitionism (barely), multiple orgasms, protected sex, aftercare, way more plot than i expected, lmk if i missed anything

[9:16 PM] FRIDAY

"Come on. The cops are gonna bust it before we even get there!" Summer stomped her heels like a whiny child.

"You know these things never start on time, we will be fine," you said, coming down the stairs.

"You could always go ahead of us and we'll meet you there," Nyla said, checking herself in the mirror, "Oh wait, you can't drive," she deadpanned.

"Only temporarily," Summer rolled her eyes.

"Only until your suspension is lifted," you reminded.

"One of you could let me borrow a car. It's only an issue if I get caught." Summer says matter of factly, like either of you would side with her.

"That is the issue, sweetie, you did get caught." Nyla pats Summer's cheek.

Summer crossed her arms, again acting like a moody toddler.

"Let's go," you grabbed your keys off the table, "Thought you didn't wanna be late." You said to Summer, heading out the door.

With an annoyed huff, Summer gathered her things and followed you and Nyla out the door.

The three of you got into your car, the gentle purr of the engine coming to life once you put the key in the ignition, sending vibrations through the entire vehicle. Music filtered through the speakers as you pulled out of your spot and took off down the street.

"Hyuck said to make sure you turn your lights off when you're coming up," Summer relayed a message she received from Haechan once you were halfway there.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," you waved off.

You turned off your headlights once you neared the exit, moving offroad. You carefully drove into the woods on unpaved ground, heading deeper into the darkness as the distant streetlights weren't doing anything to assist your sight anymore. 

"I always hate this part," Nyla says from the passenger seat.

"Gotta make sure we don't get caught if any cops are hiding around here." You said.

"I know, but it always feels like the beginning of a horror movie. And you know the hot ones always die first," Nyla pouted.

You found the opening in the fence, worn down from being driven over so many times, and pulled into the abandoned army base, finally able to cut your lights back on.

The sound of music playing and tires screeching on the pavement could already be heard from the runway the meet was on, and you were still a few hangars away.

You slow down once you reach the crowd taking over the runway. People move out of the way as you cruise down the road, looking for a spot to park.

"Ain't that Johnny over there," Summer pointed from the backseat.

"I'd recognize that giant beanstalk anywhere," you say before honking your horn, startling the Aquarius and getting his attention.

"Wow, the princess actually graces us with her presence on this lovely night," Johnny curtsies, and you scoff.

"Just move out the way before I run your ass over." you tell him.

You backed your car into the spot next to Johnny, and your friends practically jumped out of the vehicle before you could put it in park. You hadn't even closed your door when Johnny embraced you in a tight hug. 

"Jesus, John, gonna crack a rib," you gasp.

"Feels like we don't see you at these things anymore," He let you go.

"Come on, it hasn't been that long. I was here like a few weeks ago."

"For like 20 minutes. You left before you could even see me smoke Jungwoo," he crossed his arms over his chest.

You remember that night. You had totally forgotten the assignment you had due at 11:59 and raced back home to turn it in on time.

"Shit. That's my bad. You know it's just stuff with the garage and school and…stuff," you trail off.

"Yeah, I get it," Johnny slung his arm around you, "You're doing good though, kiddo," you both started following behind Nyla and Summer as they wandered off.

"How do you figure?"

"Made it further than me. I had already dropped out by this point," Johnny said, sharing a laugh.

The music came from every direction with people displaying their boosted sound systems out of their trunks. All cars of different makes and models lined the sides of the track. The ones not focusing on the races were too busy gawking at the expensive modifications under the hoods of those showing them off.

"Last chance. Winner take all," you instantly recognize Chenle's voice over the rest of the clamor.

You watch Summer reach into her bag, giving Chenle an indescribable amount, looking proud of herself.

"Who're you betting on?" Johnny asks her. 

"Yeri, duh," she answered. 

"You sure that was a good choice?" he teases.

"Obviously. Hyuck ain't got shit on her." 

"Yeah, alright," Johnny rolled his eyes, taking a bit of offense himself.

"Where is Haechan, by the way? He's up next," Jeno says.

"Over there talking to Jaemin," Chenle nodded to the opposite side of the runway where Jaemin's car was parked.

You spotted the back of Haechan's head, speaking to Jaemin through the window of his car, probably checking the police scanner and making sure you're all still in the clear, no doubt. Then your eyes land on the guy standing next to him, recognizing his silhouette.

"Oh my god, is that-" Summer starts.

"Mark Lee?" you will your vision to focus from this distance to see clearer. "Mark's back in town and no one said anything?" you hit Johnny's arm.

"You would know if you were here." Chenle shrugged.

"I'm sorry, who is Mark?" Nyla asks.

Everyone turned and looked at Nyla.

"Mark Lee? How do you not know Mark?" Summer says, showing Nyla his Instagram.

"How did you pull that up so fast?" Renjun asks.

"Holy shit, he's good," Nyla says, impressed, and you already know Summer pulled up one of the videos of him racing.

"Better be. I taught him." Johnny smiles like a proud father. "We all go way back," he says, "Ain't that right?" Johnny nudges your arm.

Way back. 

Way back when you used to spend hours at the garage with your father after school and only knew Johnny as your father's best and favorite (unconfirmed) employee. And Mark was some boy from your high school that you didn't even know until you went to your first dig.

Way back doesn't even feel that far away anymore now seeing him. It almost feels exactly like the night you met after you snuck out to the first car meet.

"If your father knew you were here, he would lose his shit. If he found out I let you drive, he would have my head. You are not getting into any car—getting behind any wheel tonight under any circumstances. Do you understand?" Johnny said. 

"But-" 

"Aht, I mean it," he said, shooting you down before changing the subject, "You know Mark, right?" Johnny asked. 

"No, I don't know Mark." 

"Well, this is Mark," Johnny said, yanking the boy out of a conversation to introduce the both of you. "You mind keeping each other company, and make sure she stays out of..everything," Johnny not so quietly muttered to Mark. "I'm up next, so be good while I'm gone," Johnny patted your head before he hopped in his car, leaving the two of you alone. 

"I can't image he's much less of a jackass at work." Mark joked. 

"He definitely isn't. I don't think it's something he can turn off," you laughed before you looked over at him, "How'd you know I'm from the garage?" you asked. 

"Johnny said you might be here tonight. He talks about you all the time, like a little sister he's never had," Mark tells you. 

"Oh really? What else has he said?" 

"You're one hell of a driver."

"Come on, it's starting," Summer pulling on your arm, tore you out of your thoughts, and you realize Mark's no longer in your sight, having lost him in the crowd.

People gather on either side of the runway, cheering as Haechan's electric blue supra pulled up next to Yeri's lavender-wrapped GT-R at the spray-painted line that served as the starting and finish line.

Chenle stood in front of them, looking at both drivers. He raised his arms, both drivers reviving up their cars. Haechan burns out his tires, kicking up smoke behind his car before Chenle drops his arms, and both speed off past him down the road.

Through all the commotion, you spotted Mark again, and before you could even think about it, you were already weaving your way through the crowd to get to him.

"So you thought you could just come back to town and not say anything to anybody?" you say, getting his attention.

Mark's eyes light up, no longer concerned with the race upon seeing you.

"I just got in yesterday, but heard you were gonna be here tonight. So I thought I'd surprise you."

"Consider me surprised."

You take the time to notice everything about him, the things that have changed and the things that haven't. Like his hair, no longer dark with the typical schoolboy cut. It's now grown out and blonde—that was as much as you could tell from the beanie it was all tucked underneath. But nothing about his face is much different than how you remember it. Still the same soft eyes you can get yourself lost in and the sweet smile that used to bring one to your face.

"So who's your money on?" Mark asks you.

"You know I'm not throwing anything unless I really got something to lose," you say, "But if I did put my money on one of them it would definitely be Yeri. She's winning this."

"Yeah, she's a good driver but don't you know what Haechan has under his hood?"

"Yeah, but it's no match for what's under Yeri's. And I would know. I put it all together myself," you smiled proudly.

You heard the cars approaching, closing in on the finishing line. From this distance, it's hard to tell who's winning, but you aren't as eager as the rest of the crowd cheering on either side to see who would make it to the end first.

The cars blurred past you, wind whipping behind them, blowing your hair out of place a bit as you turned to Mark.

"Now would you look at that," you smiled as Yeri was announced as the winner, "I know it's been a while Mark, but the last thing you should forget is that I'm always right."

"Trust, there isn't anything about you I could forget," Mark says before excusing himself to provide Haechan with moral support.

You don't know why fluttering kicks up in your stomach at his words, and you can't fight the smirk that stretches across your face as you watch him walk away. But you try to ignore it and go to congratulate Yeri on her win.

[10:32 PM] 

"Okay but like I almost had her," Haechan continues to explain. 

You hadn't been listening to Haechan, finding yourself too entranced with looking at Mark talking to Jungwoo and Somi a few feet away from you; you didn't even notice Nyla approaching.

"So like were you two a thing?" Nyla asks, startling you.

"What? Me and Mark?" you furrow your brows, "No, no, we were just friends."

"You were close?" she asks.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that." you tell her.

"This one yours?" Mark asks, getting your attention.

"I'm standing next to it, aren't I?" you reply, running your hand over the top of your car.

"And as good as you look doing it, I just wonder if you're still as good at driving it as I remember."

"You think I lost my touch while you were away?" you push yourself away from your car, shortening the distance between the both of you.

Mark shrugs, "You tell me," he smirks.

"You know I'm more show than tell," the corners of your lips turn up.

"Is anybody else seeing this?" Nyla looks around, asking.

"Like old times?" you smile.

"Just like old times," he replies.

"For how much?" you ask.

"Let's just settle with $200 for now, nothing too serious."

"Afraid I'd clean you straight out?" you teased, "Fine by me."

Everyone's now tuned into the exchange between the two of you, a mix of reactions to what was going on with you and Mark.

"Oh shit, this is gonna be good," Haechan slid off the hood of his car, engaging in the action.

"Are they really doing this right now?" Renjun asks.

"You best believe they are. Time to make a profit—Place your bets now!" Yangyang began yelling into the crowd as you and Mark started your cars.

"You two ready?" Ten asks, standing in front of your vehicles at the starting line.

"Unless Mark's having second thoughts," you look over at Mark in his car.

Mark smirked, "Are you?"

"Hell no," you revved up your engine.

With Ten's signal, your foot hovers over the gas pedal. Bringing his hands down, you and Mark take off down the runway.

You're instantly transported back to the summer nights you and Mark spent driving around abandoned warehouses and garages.

You remember staying out for hours—most times til the sun came up, trying to perfect drifting. The amounts of tires you blew out and dents you inflicted on the car you had then led the two of you to spend your days in your father's garage, repairing the damage.

You prepare yourself for the turn coming up on the track that had been carved out. It's almost as if you and Mark move in perfect sync as you shift your gears. Your tires glide on the concrete, smoothly drifting your car around the corner, a bit of smoke trailing behind you from the burning rubber.

With as fast as you were both going, you should've expected the race to end as soon as it started. And when you both drove over the finish line, it was almost hard to tell who won. But you had Mark by a fender.

"I see you have forgot I always win too," You say to Mark as Ten hands you the money, "But that's the first real race I've had in a while, so thank you for that."

"If you're really that appreciative then how about we go again," Mark offers.

"I don't wanna take anymore of your money, Mark," you say teasingly.

He rolls his eyes before leaning out of his car, "If you really don't, how about if I win, you let me take you out."

It was the last thing you expected to hear come out of Mark's mouth. You would almost describe his demeanor as cocky, but you've seen cocky, and the confidence has never looked so good on someone.

Who is this man, and what has he done with the Mark Lee you knew? 

But you weren't going to back down just because your heartbeat picks up, and you know it's not just from the adrenaline.

"How about when I win?" you ask.

He pauses, thinking for a second before saying, "You get my car."

Your eyes light up at the proposition, "Have fun walking home tonight, Markie," you laugh.

"Bitch, if you don't let him win," Summer says, coming up to your window.

"There's no way in hell I'm doing that. Do you see that car?" you say.

"Do you see that man? He wants to take me out, who am I to put a question mark where the universe placed a period?" Nyla says, looking at Mark while he talks to Haechan.

"Look, if there are no hard feelings after I give that car a few adjustments, maybe a new paint job, and Mark still wants to take me out, he can," you shrugged.

"Trust me, he'll want to. He's been eyeing you all night." Summer hits your arm.

"Shut up, he has not," you swat her away.

"Excuse me, ladies, but if you don't mind, my man Mark has a date to win," Haechan says, making it clear who he was rooting for.

"Yeah, keep on wishing, Hyuck," Summer yelled back, "You better fucking win now." she tells you.

It was Jeno this time who stood between both cars raising his arms, giving you and Mark the signal to get set. With a nod, Jeno drops his arms, and your car accelerates, taking off, Mark right there beside you. Your entire focus was on the road ahead of you, not even Mark, who would steal glances at you from time to time.

You start getting some distance between your cars, already thinking about the new rims you'd order. But all that flies out the window when you spot a cat in the road ahead of you.

You had two choices; stop or swerve into the muddy ditch to your left, as any third option would leave someone getting hurt, so you didn't even consider it. Slamming on the breaks, you come to a quick stop as the cat stands in front of your car.

"Motherfucker," you muttered under your breath.

As Mark passed you, you swore you could've heard his laugh in the wind.

You swerved around the cat, applying heavy weight to the gas, getting back into your lane, and catching back up with Mark once you approached the turn. By the time you reached the top end, you were only about an inch away from pulling ahead of Mark's car.

You heard the distorted whirls of screams filter in through your windows as you both drove over the line, everyone cheering for the winner.

"Fuck," you whined.

You really wanted that Evo.

"Did you actually let him win?" Summer asks, stunned.

"Fuck no. There was a cat on the runway, I didn't wanna hit it," you say, slamming your door shut.

"Are you serious?" Renjun asks with a laugh.

"How the fuck else would there be a way to explain how I lost?" you say.

"You wanted to let him wi-" Johnny's cut off by Mark's hand over his mouth.

"It's true, I saw it run across," Mark attests, "But still if rules are rules and winning is winning..." he shrugs with a smile.

"You got lucky, Mark. Don't let it go to your head too much," you cross your arms over your chest.

"May be a little too late for that," Mark says, eyeing you up and down.

"Jesus, were they always like this?" Nyla asks, handing Johnny the money she placed on you.

"I have no idea where the fuck any of this came from. What am I even watching right now?" Johnny says, taking the cash.

"Hey! Did you bet against me?" you ask Johnny.

"Sorry, kid. It's just business," Johnny yells back, counting the money.

"Fucking traitor," you grumble.

Then you hear the static coming from the coms (walkie-talkies, but the boys say it's immature and insist on saying coms instead), Jisung relaying something to Chenle.

"Oh shit," Chenle said, "Cops! Cops are coming!" he yelled.

Everything stopped, and everyone scattered like roaches when the lights came on.

People were running in all different directions, jumping into anything on wheels to get away. You got into your car, searching the crowd for Nyla and Summer because you weren't gonna leave without them if they arrived with you. But you caught them getting into Jaehyun's car, so you drove away.

You heard the sirens getting closer, watching the red and blue lights flash in your rearview as you made your getaway from the old army base. Only you and a few others had the same idea of using the same way you came in to get out since the cops were coming from the main entrance, trying to round everyone up. Or at least the ones that weren't fast enough.

You cut off your headlights, driving through the woods to get to the highway, when you heard your phone vibrating in your cup holder before answering it.

"You guys okay?" you ask Nyla.

"Yeah, pretty sure everyone made it out. Where are you?" Nyla asks.

"On my way to the garage to drop the car. Then I'm going over to Johnny's."

"Alright, we'll see you there."

"Alright." you hung up.

[12:26 AM] SATURDAY 

As you walked up to Johnny's street, you could already see the partying had continued as if it was never interrupted.

Cars were double parked, taking up the entire street in front of the house. People were scattered all over the lawn, still carrying on as if you all didn't just have to run for your lives to end up here. You could already hear the music from inside Johnny's house as you walked up the front steps.

"You know, the whole point of coming over here is to lay low and not attract the attention of the cops right back to us again." you say to Johnny, finding him first on the front porch.

"It'll be fine, none of the neighbors are gonna complain," Johnny says without an ounce of worry on his face as he rolls a joint.

Before you walk into the house, you stop and ask Johnny again, "You really bet against me?"

"Look, it's not that I think he's the better racer," Johnny pauses to wet the ends of the papers with his tongue, "But you weren't gonna pass up a chance to let him take you out," he teases.

Johnny begins laughing as you hit his arm, "I told you it was the fucking cat."

You leave Johnny, still laughing, on the porch, entering the house. Making your way through the crowded hallway, you reach the kitchen, finding Nyla, Summer, and Jaehyun along with Goeun.

"Finally, what took you so long? Almost hit another cat on your way over?" Summer asks, sipping on her drink.

"Haha, very fucking funny," you spit, flipping her off.

"Here, calm down, and take this," Johnny hands you the lit joint.

"Where do you even think the cat came from? Was it alone? What if it was a mother and she had a litter? Oh my god no, we have to go back and find it," Goeun asks, making it very clear she's already a few shots in.

Now if someone brings that cat up one more time…

"Can we please just stop talking about the cat," you sigh, taking one last drag.

Passing off the joint to Jaehyun, your mind was already growing hazy, your body feeling less weighed down, and you wandered out of the kitchen. You spot Jaemin and Jeno in the backyard smoking with Somi, Mingi, and Doyeon. Somi lifts the joint toward you, offering before you tell her you're good for now. You were then drawn to the living room when you heard Haechan's voice going back and forth with another's.

"Dude, stop running me over!" Haechan complained.

"Stop getting in my way!" Sunwoo yelled back.

The two boys had planted themselves in front of the TV, quickly moving their fingers over the controls in their hands as they played GTA. Aside from the ones entertained by Hyuck and Sunwoo playing, the living room was packed with others dancing, drinking, and smoking, so you didn't even attempt to make your way through.

You spun on your heels and continued to meander around the house. But you were stopped in your tracks when you were approached by Mark.

"Peace offering?" Mark hands you a drink.

"You know I'm not actually mad about losing, Mark," you take the cup from him, sipping the contents as he leans against the walls next to you.

"Does that mean, if I would've just asked you instead; a date or my car, you would've chosen-"

"Your car, definitely," you say, "Mark, you're cute and all but your car...That's like a wet dream on wheels," you tell him, and he bursts into laughter. 

"You think I'm cute?" he asks, raising a brow at you.

It registers that that is what you said to him, even without realizing it. But it's not like it's a lie, so you don't deny it.

"I do." Always have. "And fortunately, you still have your car. So where do you plan on taking me in it?"

"I'm not telling you that."

You scoff, "Why not?"

"It's a surprise."

"I hate surprises." you whine.

"You didn't seem to hate me surprising you tonight."

"That's different."

"You'll like this one," Mark tells you.

"What if you're wrong and I hate it?"

"You won't." Mark wasn't going to crack, depriving you of the information.

"Fine. But when I imagine you've planned out the most extravagant date of the century, and it doesn't meet my expectations and turns out the be the worst date of my life, I will never let you live it down, Mark Lee," you say.

He laughed at your dramatics, "I'll take that chance."

"Can I at least know when to expect this to happen?" you ask.

"Are you free tomorrow?"

"I can be."

"Perfect. I'll pick you up at 6."

"Who gets dinner at 6. We aren't seniors, Mark."

"Who said I was just taking you dinner?" he tilts his head. 

"You've only been here about 36 hours and I've only known you're back for three of them, how could you have possibly planned something already?"

"Just gotta trust me," he says, lifting his cup to lips, "And wear something nice. Not too nice. But nice."

"Wow, Mark, that is so helpful." 

"I do what I can," he smiles at you rolling your eyes. 

Mark only breaks eye contact when he feels the intruding gaze of another.

"Okay, I don't know if it's just me, but why does Leo look like he wants to hit me with his car."

Ignoring any subtleties, you turn to find exactly what Mark was talking about. Across the room, you see Leo leaning against a wall, drinking his beer, and glaring at you and Mark. 

You scoff and wave it off, "It's nothing. He's just trying that big bad intimidating ex-boyfriend shit. Thinks it's actually gonna work and bring me right back into his arms," you sip your drink.

"No way you dated him," Mark stares at you, jaw dropped, "Jesus, I leave and you suddenly lose your taste in men."

"Shut up," you shove him with a laugh.

A soft smile comes to your face as you find yourself getting lost in Mark's eyes. That was until you were interrupted by someone calling your name to get your attention.

Mark could feel his posture correcting itself as Yeonjun approached the corner you both occupied, you with open arms.

Yeonjun was another ex of yours. But you only dated for a couple months in high school before ending things on good terms, agreeing to just stay friends.

"Should've known if there was gonna be one person to actually get you out there on the track, it would be Mark," Yeonjun says, "What's up, man," he greets Mark.

"Hey, man," Mark nods.

It's not like Mark had anything against the man. They were pretty well acquainted through you and the other mutual friends he shared with Yeonjun. But it was the little prick of a feeling some may describe as a bit of jealousy Mark gets when he sees Yeonjun with you sometimes. Especially now, considering how close you and Yeonjun were before, Mark can only imagine what it's like now, and he's suddenly regretting all the time he's missed.

"Yeah, since he's not a little bitch and can actually give me a race worth my while," you tease Yeonjun, putting a smile on Mark's face.

"Oh, I know you're not grouping me in with the rest of them," Yeonjun pointed over his shoulder, "fell for the trap last time, and it cost me a Camaro."

"Don't worry. You know she's been in good hands," you say.

"Yeah. And you wasted no time with a new paint job, I see," Yeonjun crossed his arms over his chest.

"It was very much needed. I don't know what it is with you guys and that horrendous orange," you scrunch your face.

"So pink was the obvious answer?" Yeonjun asks.

"It's fuchsia, actually. And yes, it was," you nod, making both of them laugh. 

Your exchange with Yeonjun is cut short when he hears Wooyoung calling him from the other room. 

"I'll catch you guys later. Good seeing you, Mark," Yeonjun nods at Mark as he leaves, Mark doing the same.

"So, let me get this straight; you raced me in a car you already won from Yeonjun, trying to win mine," Mark crosses his arms.

"First, you offered up your car. Second, I've never had a Mitsubishi," You say.

"Good thing I won then," he laughs, and you shoot him a death glare. "Thought there were no hard feelings," he responds to your expression.

"Don't start poking the bear, Lee."

[3:37 AM]

You and Mark barely separated from one another all night, the two of you now sitting in the backyard, still smoking the joint Jaemin left for you two to finish.

"You okay over there?" Mark's voice breaks the peaceful silence and brings you back to reality. You look over at Mark, and your face splits into a smile before you burst into laughter.

"What?" Mark starts laughing along with you.

"Nothing. Sorry I'm just.." you couldn't find the words to even describe what's going on in your head right now, "incredibly high," you sigh.

Mark continues laughing with you, soothing the embarrassment you feel prick up your spine. 

"I missed this. And I missed you," Mark says.

"Me too," you smile, "All I could think about the whole night was how much it felt like the first time we met."

"Oh, you mean the same night Johnny almost got bagged?" Mark starts laughing uncontrollably as the memory comes back.

"Yes," you begin laughing as well.

"Do you remember the panic on his face when he was running," he manages to say between gasps for air. 

"I've never seen Johnny so scared," you say, your lungs begging for oxygen as you continue to laugh.

"I heard my name, you two talking about me?" Johnny steps out onto the deck.

"Yeah, and that first meet I went to when I saved your ass from the cops," you say.

Johnny scoffed, "What are you talking about?"

"Dude, how could you not remember?" Mark asks, "It was right after you raced Changkyun and you were busy talking to Yves and Jun when the cops showed up." he says.

"But good thing you left the keys in the car and since Mark was too busy freaking out, someone had to do something," you add.

"Alright, I was not freaking out," Mark says.

"It was a mild freak out," you say to him.

"Huh," Johnny nods, looking as if he's going through the archives of his memory, "I very vaguely remember that happening," Johnny says as he lights another joint.

"Maybe if you didn't smoke so much you'd remember," you mutter, sipping your water.

"I know you're not talking," Johnny pointed at you with the spliff between his lips.

"Sungchan's passed out on the front lawn," Haechan comes outside to tell Johnny.

"Okay, find Jeno or Jae and move him upstairs," Johnny says.

"Jeno already left and no one's seen Jaehyun in a while," Haechan says.

"Shit," Johnny sighs, taking a drag, "Mark, come on," he hits Mark's shoulder.

"Now how'd I get dragged into this?" Mark asks.

"Man, just come help us get him upstairs," Johnny tells Mark. With an annoyed grumble, Mark gets up, and you laugh as Mark follows the other two back into the house.

You only went back inside to refill your cup with more water when you bumped into Yeonjun again.

"Hey, you're still here." Yeonjun says.

"Yeah," you answer with a lazy smile.

He laughs at your hazy state, "You good?"

"I'm great," you reply.

Yeonjun smiles, "Well we're about to head out. Do you need a ride home?"

You only had two choices; either walk home or crash here at Johnny's. But now Yeonjun's presenting you with this third choice, and it definitely is tempting.

But Mark.

"I'm good," you nod.

"Okay, I'll see you later."

"I'll see you," you wave as Yeonjun runs off to catch up with the rest of his friends, getting into Hwiyoung's car.

This is when you finally notice how much things have calmed down. The cars lining the streets were no longer taking up the whole block. Now, the house was cleared out of mostly everyone, save for the ones who were crashing there for the night. 

"Are you heading out?" Mark asks, coming down the stairs.

"I mean, I probably should. I'm exhausted and I've got to rest up for this big date we have tomorrow," you say.

"You're not driving, right?"

"Of course not. I'm not too far."

"I'll take you."

"Mark, you are not driving either," you say, knowing he's also been drinking and smoking.

"I know. I'm walking you," Mark says, "Let me go grab my phone," he brushes past you and back out to the backyard.

"Hey," you heard from someone else coming down the stairs.

You furrow your brows at your roommate, "You're actually still here? Where have you been all night?" You ask Nyla.

"You know…around," she answered.

It was then you noticed Nyla wearing a shirt she didn't leave the house in, but you don't say anything about it at the moment.

"You ready to go?" Mark asks you.

"Wait, you're leaving?" Nyla asks.

"Yup," you answer.

"Do you want me to go with you?" she asks.

"Do you want to go with me?" you ask her.

Before she can answer, Jaehyun comes down the stairs buttoning up a shirt he wasn't wearing before, smirking at your best friend as he walks past to the kitchen.

Nyla looked internally conflicted, so you made the decision for her. "You can stay. Mark's gonna walk me home."

"Mark, you're an angel," Nyla grabs his face. "I love you. Text me when you're home," she says to you, kissing your cheek.

"You better be using protection. I'm too young to be an auntie," you say sternly to her.

"You'd be one hot auntie, though," she winks over her shoulder before disappearing into the kitchen.

"You sure would be," Mark mumbles as he leans against the doorframe.

"Mark, don't start with me," you glare at him as you walk out of the house.

"What do you mean?" he asks, following you.

"The Mark Lee I knew couldn't flirt to save his life. But now, you keep saying things like that and with you looking like this," you sighed, "It makes things confusing."

"How?" he asks.

"Cause you're Mark."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

You don't know how you're supposed to answer him. "I'm not telling you."

"Well, do you want me to stop?"

You took a second to answer, "No."

For a few minutes, you only walked in comfortable silence before you broke it. "So how long are you staying?" you ask.

"Don't know yet. My brother's wedding is next month so I came back to help with preparations and stuff. But I don't know, might stick around for a while after."

You gasp, "Oh my god, your brother's getting married?? No fucking way, congrats to him."

"Thanks, I'll pass it along," he smiled.

"I bet your mom's excited."

"Yeah, and fortunately for me, it's got her too preoccupied to be any way worried about my dating life," he says. "She still asks me about you, you know. Says she misses you."

"Aw, I miss her too," you pout.

Okay, so maybe you downplayed how close you really were.

From the moment you met, it didn't take much for you to become friends. Once you had realized you went to the same school and were even in some of the same classes, you grew close. Mark introduced you to all his friends, who then became your friends and vice versa. Any time he got word of a meet happening, you were always the first person he texted, saying he was already on his way to come get you. Mark would walk with you after school to your father's garage and let you teach him a few things about fixing up and modifying cars. Your families were both fond of the relationship the two of you had; Mark's inviting you to dinner almost every week, and yours never minding having Mark over for breakfast Saturday mornings.

As you turned down your street, you were then reminded of Mark's last night here. After his going away party, he walked you home just like this for the last time before he left.

"I've missed you too, Mark. Really," you tell him once you reach your house.

You hug him, and he wraps his arms around you. Hugging him now is much different than the last time you had. You had cried into his shirt, squeezing him so tight you didn't want to let him go. And a part of you wished you didn't. But at least letting go this time doesn't hurt as much as it did the last.

"Goodnight, Mark."

"Goodnight," he says.

"I'll be seeing you," you say, making your way up to the door.

"You'll be seeing me," he reassures, waiting for you to enter your house before walking back to Johnny's.

[5:43 PM] SATURDAY

"Can I get a time check?" you ask.

"Almost quarter to 6," Summer answers.

You started cursing under your breath, rushing to apply your mascara.

"Wow, I've never seen you like this?" Nyla says.

"Like what?" you ask, never taking your eyes away from the mirror.

"Nervous to go on a date with a boy," she says teasingly.

"First, I'm not nervous," you point the mascara wand at her, "Second, he's not just some boy," you turn back to your reflection.

You heard your phone vibrate with a notification and looked at the text from Mark.

[5:49 PM] mark:  omw to come get you 

Fuck. And you weren't even dressed yet.

"Shit—okay, maybe I am a little nervous," you left your vanity and threw off your robe to slip into your dress.

"You really like him, don't you?" Nyla asks.

"You don't know the half of it," Summer interjects.

"What is that supposed to mean?" you ask, struggling to zip your dress.

"Bitch, are you for real right now?" Summer deadpans, helping you with the dress, "You were so unbelievably head over heels for him in high school."

"I was not," you defended.

"You and Mark seem to be the only ones who didn't know that," she zips you up.

You couldn't think of anything to say to that, but thankfully you didn't have to anymore once your phone started ringing.

"Hello?"

"I'm outside," Mark's voice filters through the speaker.

"Fuck," you mutter, "Okay, sorry, I'm almost ready," you tell him.

"No worries, I'll still be here."

You hung up and ran around your room, looking through your closet and frantically throwing things out of the way to find your shoes. 

"I literally just saw them. Where the fuck are they?" you say to yourself.

"You mean these?" Nyla pulls the heels from under your bed.

"Thank you," you grab the shoes and slip them on.

"Damn, you look real good," Summer compliments as you finish putting on your jewelry.

"Do I really?" you ask, making sure your hair is sitting just how you want it.

"Hell yeah," Nyla agreed.

"Okay," you take a deep breath, smoothing out the silk draped over your body before leaving your room.

"Have fun!" Nyla yelled after you.

You step out of your house to find Mark leaning against a black Porsche you recognize as one of Jaehyun's instead of his signature red Mitsubishi Evolution. You would be disappointed if he didn't look so good standing next to the car.

Mark pushed himself away from the car when he saw you coming down the steps, completely in awe. Meanwhile, you were just focused on not tripping and stumbling down onto your face.

"Hi," you walk up to him. 

"Hi," he seemed speechless, "You look…shit. I mean, not like that—You just look beautiful."

"Thank you, Mark," you grin, "You're looking pretty fine yourself."

"You know, I try," he smooths out his jacket, "Shall we?" he opens the passenger door for you.

You smile as you step toward the car, Mark taking your hand, helping you in before closing the door and rushing over to the driver's side.

Once you've clicked yourself in with the seatbelt, you look up to see Mark staring at you. "What?"

"Nothing," he clears his throat, pulling off.

You tried not to get too lost in looking at Mark, staring out the window instead, trying to figure out where he was taking you. But then you feel his hand brush against yours when he reaches for the gear lever. You couldn't help it, letting your eyes wander over to him. Curtains of blonde hair hung slightly over his eyes as they were focused on the road. Your eyes drift down to the material perfectly tailored to his broad shoulders, taking note of the color he chose to wear, a deep shade of blue, one of your favorite colors.

"We're here," Marks says, and you snap out of it, looking around to see where he's brought you. Mark exits the car first and comes to open your door for you.

"Mark, you didn't."

"I did," Mark smiled, "Put this on," he handed you a lanyard reading VIP.

"Where the fuck did you get these?" you ask.

He ignores your question and holds his hand out for you instead, "Come on."

You slide your hand into his and follow him toward the entrance.

As Mark leads you to your seats, you realize you're not in the packed sections with the rest of the screaming fans. But instead where most executives, family members of racers, and people with enough money to buy their way into this section were. Your eyes were as wide as continental tires as you sat down. 

"Mark…" now it was your turn to be speechless.

"Does this meet your expectations?" he asks as you look around in awe.

"No," you say, "Definitely surpassed them."

The crowd erupted into cheers as the drivers walked out to their cars.

"Oh my god," you gasp, "It's him."

Kim Jongin, or as he's famously known, Kai, walks out. He brightly smiles at the fans screaming his name and waves into the audience. You're too starstruck to move. And even think your heart has stopped beating when Kai looks in your direction.

"Mark! You made it," Kai walks over to you and Mark.

"Told you I would, man," Mark greets Kai, "I also said I would introduce you to one of the best street racers I know."

Kai looks at you, his smile never faltering as he extends his hand to shake yours.

"Holy shit," is all you can say as you shake his hand, "I'm like a huge fan," you tell Kai.

"So I've been told. I've also heard you put up some serious game out on the track," Kai says before one of his crew members calls him to his car. "I gotta run, but how about you guys stick around after the race and come down to the pit."

You're certain your jaw's already on the floor, in complete disbelief that this is happening right now.

"Yeah, for sure," Mark says.

Kai waves at you one last time before running off to the track, putting on his helmet, and jumping into his car. Once you were out of your trance, you hit Mark's arm.

"Ow!" Mark rubbed his bicep.

"Since when the fuck do you know Kai?" you ask.

"Since Kevin was just getting into the NIRA circuit. I went to one of the digs with him and that was where I met Kai."

You've been following Kai's career practically since it started back when you were a high school freshman. You probably even watched the exact meet Mark was talking about. 

"And you've just been sitting on this piece of information, waiting for what to tell me?"

"For this." Mark answers.

"I can't believe you," you mutter, turning away from him. 

[8:32 PM] 

As Kai tended to the post-race press, you and Mark waited for the first-place winner in the pit. You were busy drooling over what was under the hood of Kai's car while Mark conversed with Shohei, a pit crew member.

"So what do you think?" Kai reappears, asking you.

"I think if I was out there on the track, I'd have a reason to be scared," you say, "An FR9 engine, a nos wet fogger system, and forged pistons," you only list off the components you can see from just taking one look, impressing the racer.

"You really do know your shit," Kai smiles, "I like her," he says to Mark.

"Yeah, me too," Mark smiled at you.

"Wanna take her for a lap?" Kai asks you.

"Me?" you point to yourself, "In this?" then to the car.

"Why not?" Kai shrugs, handing you a helmet.

"She isn't exactly dressed for-" another crew member, Eunseok, started.

But you kick off your heels and grab the helmet, making sure your dress doesn't hike up your legs too high as you slide through the window to get into the race car.

"Man, she's got this," Mark reassures Eunseok as Kai gets in the car with you.

"You good in there?" you hear Mark's voice from inside the helmet.

"You know I'm more than good," you reply.

"And don't I know that for damn sure," you hear the smirk in his voice, "But I've talked you up to pretty much everyone here, so don't embarrass me," he says light-heartedly.

Your barefoot steps on the gas and a smile splits your face as you burn out the tires before accelerating. The wind whipped against your skin as you picked up speed. You felt like you were flying as Kai hysterically egged you on from the passenger seat.

Mark could hear your laughter through the com piece in your helmet, telling you're having the time of your life with the way you round the track. The car roared around the corners, and you felt the G-forces pushing you back into the seat. At the end of the lap, you pulled the car back into the pit, taking the helmet off to catch your breath.

"Now that's what I call driving!" Kai exclaimed as he got out of the car from the passenger side window.

You pulled yourself out of the seat and exited through the window. Mark was right there to help you even though he knew you didn't really need his assistance. You feel Mark's arm around your waist, the other the under your thighs, helping you out of the vehicle and letting you hold onto him to put your shoes back on.

"Between that and everything else I've been told, you better hold onto her, Mark."

"I don't think there's any other choice. She's stuck with me," Mark grabs your hand, "We should probably start leaving now before we're late." Mark says to you, looking at his watch.

"It was good seeing you again, and it truly was an honor to meet you," Kai bowed as he took your hand and kissed your knuckles.

"The honor was all mine. And you know, if you ever need a tune-up, or tires changed or even a buff, my garage always has its door opened for you," you smile.

"I'll keep that in mind," Kai nods with a smile.

"What are we even getting paid for, then?" Seunghan raised his arms.

Once back in the car, Mark weaved through the traffic of spectators leaving the stadium to get on the highway. You didn't notice Mark still holding your hand, only driving with one hand so his fingers could stay intertwined with yours until you reached the restaurant.

[9:41 PM]

"It was just so crazy. To feel that much power in the grips of my hands." you continued. You couldn't help but talk through the entirety of dinner, recounting the events of the night; Mark not minding one bit.

Mark slides his hand closer to yours across the table, taking your hand in his.

You trail off, suddenly losing focus while looking at Mark. Even in the dim candlelight of the restaurant, you can see how Mark's eyes hold the stars as he looks at you.

"You don't have to stop," Mark says, "I like listening to you," he rubs his thumb over the back of your hand.

"And I just like looking at you," you say, "Still think I'm going to wake up from this dream at any moment."

"You dream about me often?" Mark asks teasingly, leaning on the table.

"Oh, Markie," you lean closer too, "You really don't know the half of it, huh?"

"Why don't you tell me then?" Mark says, his eyes falling down to your lips.

"I'd rather show you," you say before kissing him.

You were never one to really be for public displays of affection, but with Mark, here and now, it just felt right.

"I've wanted to do that ever since sophomore year," you tell him once you pull away.

"Deadass?" Mark asks, raising his brows.

You laugh at his stunned expression, "Deadass, Mark."

"So Renjun was right," he mumbles to himself.

"About what?"

"You having a crush on me in high school."

"Seems like you were the only one who didn't know," you shrug.

"Well, don't act like you didn't know I had one on you too," Mark says, and your brows raise, "Wait, really? You didn't know?" he asks.

"Of course, I didn't Mark. How was I supposed to?"

"I don't know. But I mean, it was pretty obvious," Mark says, and you scoff.

You could pretty much say the same to him. 

"God, I'm such an idiot," Mark shakes his head, and you laugh, squeezing his hand. 

"My idiot," you kiss him again.

[11:56 PM]

With the night coming to an end, you feel a slight pang of sorrow as Mark nears your house.

Mark's hand holding yours, squeezes lightly, bringing you out of your thoughts once he's parked on your street. He kissed the back of your hand before exiting the car, opening your door, and helping you out. 

You slide his jacket off your shoulders and hand it back to Mark for him to toss into the backseat.

"So," Mark starts.

"So," you take a step closer to him.

"You can truthfully tell me if it really was the worst date of your life," he said with a smile.

You roll your eyes, "Maybe it wasn't."

"Damn, it does feel good being right."

"The night isn't over. There's still time for my answer to change."

"How much time?"

You look at your phone, "Two minutes and 30 seconds."

Mark was the one to initiate the kiss this time. He placed his hands on your hips and pulled you flush against his body. You allow Mark's tongue to slip into your mouth, and he hums at the taste of your lipgloss mixed with the wine you drank. Mark pulls away so you can both catch your breath, and you rest your forehead against his.

"Well?"

"Well, this has officially been the best date I've been on," you smile.

He lifts your chin, getting you to look at him, and kisses you one last time.

"Goodnight," he says.

"Goodnight, Mark," you begin to walk up your front steps.

"Wait," Mark stops you, "This isn't gonna be a one time thing is it?"

"Do you want it to be?" you ask.

"No."

"Okay. You'll be seeing me, Mark."

"I'm counting on it."

Walking up to your door, you see the movement of the curtains in the window and shake your head as you put in your key. As expected, the moment you enter your house, you're met with Nyla and Summer waiting for you.

"Date must've gone well," Summer says.

"What makes you say so?" you ask.

"That was pretty intense between you two out on the steps, and you're still grinning like an idiot," Nyla tells you.

"I am not," you deny with said grin still plastered on your face.

[1:34 PM] MONDAY

Mark steps onto the front porch, joining the rest who were outside. He finds you among them in Johnny's driveway, working on Jungwoo's car.

"Whatcha doing?" Mark asks, approaching you.

"Jungwoo says it doesn't sound right so I'm trying to adjust the cylinders and change the air pressure intake," you say.

You might as well have been wearing an expensive white dress and standing at an altar with the way Mark's looking at you. Mark watches as you carefully maneuver your way around the engine, sure not to interfere with anything valuable.

"Try that," you tell Jungwoo, who was sitting behind the wheel.

Jungwoo started his car and revved up the engine a few times, the loud roar sounding like music to your ears. You smile, satisfied, and close the hood of the car.

"You are an angel, you know that," Jungwoo says, appreciatively kissing your cheek before wandering off.

"Yeah, I know," you smile, turning to Mark, "Hi."

"Hi." you notice Mark lick his lips as he eyes you.

"What?"

"Nothing. That was just kinda hot," Mark tells you.

"Yeah? All this sweat and grease really doing it for you?" you joke, wiping your hands with a rag.

"You're definitely doing it for me," Mark says, pulling you toward him by your waist.

Mark kisses you, and you practically melt against his lips. You have to fight the urge to run your fingers through his hair, waiting until you properly wash your hands. You circle your arms around his neck instead, but things don't get too heated as your phone starts ringing.

"You mind?" you ask Mark. He hands you your phone, and you step away to take the call. 

"Everything okay?" Mark asks as you return to him.

"Yeah," you tell him before turning to everyone in the front yard, "So, how many of you love me enough to come swing by the garage with me?" you sweetly smile at your friends.

You aren't given a direct answer, but they all move from their spots and start getting into their cars, Mark following you to yours and riding with you.

. . .

You knew signing for the delivery wouldn't have taken long, but no one seemed to be in a rush to leave as they all busied themselves around the autobody shop. 

"Damn I really have missed this place," Mark says, looking around with a soft smile. 

"You know you've been equally missed," you tell him.

"Say it ain't so. Mark Lee, is that you?" you hear your dad's voice behind you.

"Yes, sir," Mark extends his arm to shake your dad's hand.

You try to continue focusing on the paperwork in front of you as the two exchange small talk before your dad mentions having Mark over for dinner.

"Oh, I couldn't impose-" Mark started.

"It wasn't imposing before, and it still isn't now," your dad says, "Your mom would love to have him over for dinner," he says to you.

"She would," you agree.

"Great, come over next Wednesday," he tells Mark before Soojin pulls your dad away to deal with a customer.

"Come with me," you round the desk and take Mark's hand. 

Mark follows your lead through the shop as you take him to where some of your friends congregated around Shotaro's station. 

"Hey, Taro. You busy?" you ask, getting his attention.

"Not really," Shotaro says. 

"Mark, this is Shotaro. Shotaro, this is Mark." you introduce them.

The Sagittarius' eyes widen as he extends his hand to Mark, "Holy shit, I've seen you race. You're like a god."

"Wow, thank-" Mark begins.

"Alright, I wouldn't say all that," you say.

"Have you seen him drive?" Shotaro asks.

"Of course, he's the only person that can keep up with me. But he usually never beats me over that line," you say with half a smirk.

Shotaro's brows furrow, "Wait, you race?"

Having only been working here a few months, you don't blame Shotaro for not knowing.

"I don't as much as I used to," you say.

"This isn't the first time I've heard this. Why is that?" Mark asks.

You shrug. "I don't know. I guess between school and helping manage this place I kinda lost my enthusiasm about it," you look down at the spare tire on the ground, softly kicking it, suddenly feeling everyone's eyes on you, "And it kinda just wasn't the same without you."

Mark looks as if he's endeared by what you've said. But you clear your throat and quickly change the subject.

"But anyway, how did the dry system hold up?" You ask Shotaro.

"Pretty good. Better than my last one," Shotaro tells you, lifting the hood of his car.

"Holy shit, where did you find these parts?" Mark asks as a few of you gather around the automobile. 

"Only knew one place to find them. So I had them imported from Yokohama," Shotaro says.

"Shotaro, you're definitely riding with us to race wars," Hendery says. 

"You guys are going too?" Shotaro asks.

"Yeah. Actually, speaking of, how many of us are going to race wars?" Jaehyun asks.

You and Mark used to talk about going to race wars all the time but never got the chance to when you were in high school because your parents would never let you. And by the time you were able to go, Mark wasn't there to be with you, so it just didn't have the same feeling without him.

"Pretty sure all of us here. Probably the rest of the others, too," Jeno says.

"Mark, you're coming?" Jisung asks.

"When is it?" Mark asks.

"It's supposed to be the beginning of next month, but the exact date and location haven't been posted yet. I'll let you know once I find out," Jaemin says.

"Okay," Mark nods, "As long as it doesn't interfere with my brother's wedding, I'll go."

"You could always not go?" Chenle jokes.

"Dude, he's my brother, and I'm the best man."

Everyone now turns their attention to Mark.

"What the fuck? Since when?" Ten asks.

"Since I found out my brother was engaged," Mark answers.

"So you just don't tell anyone shit around here anymore?" you joke.

Mark playfully rolls his eyes, poking his cheek with his tongue.

God, why is he so hot. 

You curl your arms around his, "Mark, you have to come. We've always wanted to go together," you pout.

"I know, I know," Mark holds your hand, "If I can, I will. I promise."

That was good enough for you for now.

"Okay."

[6:50 PM] THURSDAY

"Hello?" you answer the phone.

"You still at the garage?" Mark asks.

"Yeah, but I'm about to leave in a few minutes."

"Wanna come over to my place? Watch a movie and maybe drink this bottle of wine I have sitting in front of me."

"I'll need to go home and shower first. I'm all sweaty and greasy," you say.

"I don't really mind. Sweat, grease, and all."

"Well, I do. So I'll be over in an hour."

Mark kisses his teeth, "Fine."

[8:02 PM] 

Pulling up to Mark's house, you don't know why you expected it to be any different than how you remember it. But it was the same color and layout and even still had the dent in the garage door from when Yuta accidentally backed into it.

Mark answers the door wearing an old t-shirt, shorts, and glasses. Those goddamn glasses. 

"Hi," Mark smiles at you.

"Hi," you step into the house, allowing Mark to pull you in for a kiss. "You miss me or something?" you ask.

"Guess you can say that."

Slipping off your shoes and jacket, you follow Mark into the living room.

"Your parents here?" you ask.

"Nah, they went with my brother to meet the future in-laws," Mark answers. "You want a glass?" he points to the wine bottle sitting on the table.

"Yes, please," you sigh, collapsing onto the couch.

"Long day?"

"Yeah, but it's nothing I'm not used to." you take the wineglass he hands you.

Mark listens to you go on about your day after he asks, only briefly interrupted when he goes to answer the door for the delivery of the food you didn't even know he ordered. After eating your fill of pizza, you continue to watch the movie. You notice how much closer you are now than when you first arrived. You went from sitting right next to Mark to being seated between his legs, your back against his chest.

"Now, I gotta ask, who's your favorite?"

"Spider-man? Garfield for sure. I love the other two but The Amazing Spider-Man has a special place in my heart," you hold your hand over your chest.

"You were supposed to say me," Mark grumbles, rolling his eyes.

You laugh, turning to him, "Mark, you only dressed up once senior year, and that's cause you lost a bet."

"But you can't say I don't make a good Peter Parker," he says.

"Only if I can be your MJ," you joke.

Mark closes the space between you, softly pressing his lips to yours. Having seen No Way Home enough times opening weekend, you didn't mind Mark distracting you from the rest of the movie. You reposition yourself to straddle him and bring your lips back to his. The hands Mark has on your hips move down to cup your ass. Then you start laughing.

"Sorry, did I overstep?" Mark asks, moving his hands away.

"No, you didn't. It's just..nothing, sorry," you apologize. 

You start kissing him, cupping his face before you feel his two hands on your ass again, unable to stop the giggles bubbling in your throat.

"What?" Mark can't help but laugh now. 

"I'm sorry. I just can't stop thinking about your hands on my ass."

"What's so funny about that?" he asks.

"Nothing. It's just, I can't believe my best friend, Mark Lee, is kissing me with his hands on my ass," you cover your eyes, trying to explain. You shake your head, trying not to overthink this too much. "I swear I'm not laughing at you. I'm just nervous, I guess."

"What for?"

"Because it's you," you say, peaking at him through your fingers.

"I make you that nervous, baby?" Mark pulls your hands away from your face with a crooked smile. 

Is he trying to make you spontaneously combust?? 

"Maybe," you answer.

"Think I can do something to change that," he says, "Come here," he juts his chin toward you, signaling you to kiss him.

You let all thoughts fade away as you leaned into Mark. You grab the sides of his face, pressing your lips to him.

Mark keeps his hands off you until he can practically feel the desperation in your body, letting your hands roam all over him.

Feeling Mark's hands slide up your thighs to your ass made you softly moan into his mouth as he pressed you into his groin.

"Mark…" you breathe shakily.

"You need something?"

"Yeah, you."

You could hear your heart banging against your chest like a drum as you followed Mark up the stairs to his room, your hand in his.

Entering his room, you can see it hasn't changed much either. The same posters are still on the walls, his guitar sitting in its designated corner by his bed, and the small piles of clothes scattered over the floor. You didn't have the chance to get a good look at much else as Mark's lips were back on yours once he closed the door.

The backs of your legs hit the edge of his bed before you fall down onto it. Mark looks down at you lying on his bed, tongue darting out to wet his dry lips, taking his glasses off, and tossing them onto the bed. Mark grabs one of your legs, making space between them for himself, bringing his lips back to yours. Once he starts kissing your neck, you know you're already done for. 

"Mark, please," you arch into his touch.

"What, baby?"

"Touch me."

"I am touching you," he smirks, nipping at your jaw.

"God, since when were you such a fucking tease," you say, making him laugh.

"You mean here?" he asks, cupping your sex.

"Mhm," you tug your teeth between your teeth, nodding.

Mark looks into your eyes as he undoes the string of your sweatpants, making sure this is okay. When you don't tell him to stop, Mark slips his hand into your pants, pressing his fingers to the damp cotton, still acting as a barrier, keeping you from what you want.

"You this wet for me, princess?"

You shutter at his use of the pet name, "Yes."

"Mmm," he hums, watching your body react to the smallest of his touches. Mark then pulls your underwear to the side and teases your silt with his middle finger. Your jaw drops, silently moaning when you feel one of his fingers breach your walls. 

"Damn, baby, you're soaking for me," Mark smirks against your navel, moving your shirt out of his way as he kisses his way up your stomach.

"Mark, don't say things like that," you whine.

"Why?"

"Cause it's turning me on even more," you roll your hips into his hand.

"That doesn't sound like a reason to stop to me," he stopped kissing your skin once he reached your sternum, "Do you want me to stop?"

"No."

"Good. I'm only getting started," Mark pulls his hand away.

Before you could even protest, Mark's tugging your sweats down your legs, your panties along with them, getting you to lift your hips so he could throw them to the floor. You watch Mark lower himself to his knees on the floor before the bed, directing each of your legs over his shoulders. He softly kisses your inner thighs, nipping your sensitive skin between his teeth.

Mark pulls you closer to his face, looking up at you with eyes blown wide with lust. You try to keep your composure when Mark's tongue licks a fat stripe up your slit. Mark moans at the taste of you, and holds your legs apart as he buries his head between your thighs. Your small whimpers gradually grow into cries of Mark's name as he brings his fingers back to your core, slowly sinking two digits into your pussy.

"Fuck, that feels so good," you comb your fingers through his hair as he catches your clit between his lips.

Your back arches into the air, and you tug harshly on his roots, making him groan into your pussy. Mark's middle and ring finger curl against your velvety walls, moving in a come hither motion once he finds your sweet spot. Between the movements of his head and his fingers pumping in and out of you, you can feel the coil in your stomach tighten.

"Mark.." you sharply moan, "P-Please, don't stop," you beg.

Mark could feel his shorts growing uncomfortably tight the more he heard you moan and felt your pussy flutter around his fingers.

"You wanna cum for me, pretty girl?"

"Yes, Mark, please."

If your eyes didn't flutter shut, you would've caught the smirk on his face before he attacked your clit with his tongue.

At this point, you're no longer able to form full sentences. Mark's mouth makes you lose your senses and every coherent thought you have.

Mark's fingers dig into the plush of your thighs, keeping you from squirming too much as he eats you out like a man feasting after days of starving. 

"Oh my god!" your eyes roll back, "M'gonna cum," you warn through a whimper.

Mark never let up. The pace of his fingers picking up and his tongue flicking against your sensitive bundle of nerves had your toes curling. Your legs closed around his head once your orgasm hit you. Your cries and trembling legs went unnoticed by Mark as he was too enamored with the feeling and taste of you in his mouth.

"Mark, Mark, Mark," you whine, softly pushing his head away.

You open your eyes to find Mark with his fingers in his mouth, licking your slick off them. Even through your fatigue, seeing him with messy hair from you pulling on it and his face glistening with your juices reignited your insatiable desire for him.

"You okay?"

"Okay? Am I okay?" you raise a brow, "Mark, I can't remember the last time someone made me cum like that from just going down on me," you throw your arm over your eyes, still coming down from your high.

"I'm glad to be of service, then," he moves your arm away, kissing you.

You tangle your fingers in his hair, moaning around his tongue when it clashes with your own, tasting yourself on his lips.

You flip Mark onto the bed without breaking the kiss, and he rests his hands on your thighs, roughly kneading your flesh. You hum, feeling his hard clothed cock resting between your folds, Mark grabbing your ass to get you to roll your hips into his, letting a sound that closely resembles a whine climb up his throat.

Mark chases after your lips when you pull away, opening his eyes to see you admiring him.

"You're so pretty, Mark," you say, softly brushing his hair out of his eyes, and you swear you heard a whimper slip from his swollen lips.

Mark blushes, turning away from you so you don't notice. But you do. You grab his jaw, making him look at you, and pull him close enough, your lips to ghost over his.

"My pretty boy," you kiss his lips.

His cock stirs beneath you as you kiss your way down his neck. You tug on the collar of his shirt, getting Mark to pull it over his head, throwing it to the floor next to your clothes. You run your hand down his toned chest, a light trail of hair on his lower stomach disappearing into his shorts.

"Can I?" you ask, hooking your finger in the waistband of his shorts.

"Yeah," Mark nods.

Once his pants are off, you're both left in only one piece of clothing; his boxers and your shirt.

You kneel between his legs while Mark sits back on his hands, just watching you. Resting your hand on his leg, you softly squeeze his thigh before slowly sliding over to the bulge in his underwear. Palming the outline of his heavy cock has Mark tilting his head back, but not too much so he can still watch you as you waste no more time and release his dick from its confinements.

Your eyes widen, and the corners of your lips twitch, seeing his cock spring free, lightly slapping against his lower stomach. Precum dribbles from his slit and your mouth practically waters. You wrap your fingers around his length, smearing the beads of precum with your thumb. His cock twitches in your grasp, a raspy groan falling from his lips and shooting straight to your core.

"Mark, please tell me you have a condom somewhere in this house," you look at him through your lashes.

"Second drawer," he nods to his nightstand.

"Were you stocking up for this?" you ask, finding the industrial-sized box.

"No," Mark laughs, "Donghyuck 'gifted' that to me after our first date."

"Now, why would he do that?" you ask, straddling his thigh.

You already know your friend can have a perverted way of thinking, but you wanted to hear Mark's reasoning.

"Cause I couldn't stop talking about you in that fucking dress," he grips your waist, "Let's just say it was a lot harder to keep my gentlemanly manners than I thought it would be that night."

"As much as I appreciated the consideration," you say, "I wore that dress hoping you would've taken it off me," you lean into his ear.

"Fuck me," Mark groans under his breath and digs his fingers into your hips.

You grin, kissing him. Since you're distracted, Mark snatches the condom from your hand and pushes you onto your back. He sits back on his haunches, brushing his hair out of his eyes, and tears the package with his teeth before rolling the latex on and pumping his cock in his hands a few times.

Laying there with your hair splayed out on the pillows, your bottom lip between your teeth, and your thighs desperately itching to rub together at the sight of the man before you, Mark slowly begins losing his grip on any sort of restraint he has left. Mark wraps his arms under your thighs, pulling your hips closer to his. You can feel yourself growing wetter by the second as Mark keeps his eyes locked with yours, rubbing the tip of his cock between your folds. 

"Mark, please," your voice was barely above a whisper, yet Mark still heard the traces of desperation. 

The blunt head of his cock presses against your slit before being enveloped by your slick pussy. He takes his time easing into you as your walls open up for him.

"Oh, god—Mark," you choke out, feeling the way you have to adjust to his size.

"I know, I know, baby," Mark coos, "It's okay. Just relax for me," he soothed his hand up and down your leg.

You nod, and Mark starts kissing your neck. Your eyes flutter shut, your head tipping back to give him more access to mark up the side of your throat. As Mark sinks his teeth into your skin and can feel how incredibly wet you become, your pussy practically sucking him the rest of the way in.

"How're you doing, princess?" Mark kisses his way back up your neck. 

"Fuck, Mark, you feel so big," you roll your head back onto his pillow. Mark smiles, peppering your face with kisses while whispering sweet praises. 

"Let's just take it slow then, okay," he says, slowly drawing his hips back.

The feeling of his cock dragging against your walls as he slowly left your heat, only to fill you up again, had your eyes rolling back. 

"I feel so…you make me feel so—Full," you stumble over your words, moaning. 

The chuckle that leaves his lips leads a new wave of arousal to flood through your body and clench around him.

"And you're doing so good for me," he kisses your jaw. Mark continues slowly moving his hips, using deep sensual strokes to fuck you. Now fully submerged in pleasure, you beg Mark for more.

Mark grabs your leg hooked around his hip and begins picking up his rhythm. Bringing his eyes down to where your bodies were connected, he watches his dick disappear between your folds. Mark's shallow pants slowly transition into broken whimpers. You're just barely holding on, and Mark continues coaxing you closer to the edge.

"You're making me feel so good, Mark," you tell him.

Mark tries to conceal his noises, burying his head in your neck, but you disapprove. 

"Come on, Markie," you direct his face to look at you, "I wanna hear you, pretty boy," you grin, running your thumb along his bottom lip.

"Fuck~" he whines.

"Don't stop, baby, m'so close," you say.

"M-Me too—fuck, you feel so good," his voice fluctuates.

"S'all for you, pretty boy," you tell him, and you almost cum from his whimpers alone.

"God, stop calling me that," Mark pants, screwing his eyes shut.

"Why?" you smirk, bringing your fingers beneath his chin to make him look at you.

Damp strands of blonde hair hung in his face as he opened his lust-filled eyes, "I won't be able to last any longer," he answers.

"You gonna cum for me, Mark?" you roll your hips into his, making him deeply groan.

Mark holds your jaw with one hand, keeping intimate eye contact as he repeatedly thrusts into you. He runs his thumb along your bottom lip before pushing his finger into your mouth, and you eagerly accept.

"Not until you cum for me first," he says, sliding his thumb out of your mouth and bringing it to your clit.

"Oh—fuck, Mark, please," you cry.

Mark lowers himself to kiss you, muffling both of your sweet noises.

You frantically search for something to grab onto, finding Mark's shoulders first as you cum. Your pussy clamps around his cock, sending Mark into his own orgasm. Soft, breathy moans fill your ears as Mark's hips stutter, and he fills the condom with his cum.

"Holy shit," he drops his head to your shoulder.

You softly run your fingers through the strands of his sweaty hair as he kisses your damp skin. Pressing his lips to the side of your neck, Mark finds your lips meeting in a lazy kiss.

"Wait here," he tells you, the huskiness of his voice sending a shiver down your spine.

You whimper as he slips his cock out of the pulsating warmth of your pussy, leaving you clenching around nothing.

After tossing the condom into the trash and slipping his boxers back on, you watch Mark shuffle out of the room. He returns with a wet cloth, pulling your legs apart and wiping away the stickiness clinging to your folds.

"Are you okay?" Mark asks. 

"Yeah."

"You're very quiet," he lays down next to you. 

"I'm thinking," you say, turning in his direction. 

"About?"

"You," you answer, "There's no going back after this, Mark."

"Are you okay with that?"

"Am I?" you smile, "I'm not saying that cause I regret this, Mark. I'm saying this as a warning cause it'll be harder for you to get rid of me now," you wrap your arms around him and kiss his cheek. 

Mark laughs, resting his hands on your lower back. "I can't image I would ever want to anyway," he kisses you.

[9:43 PM] SATURDAY 

"No one even knew Yuta was back in town until today, how did so many people find out?" Summer says as your car nears the entrance to the parking garage.

It had taken you nearly ten minutes to move up in the line of cars that had formed. You're just glad you got here when you did, considering that the line was now streaming down the street.

Since Yuta had sent out the location at practically the last minute, you weren't expecting the dig to have this big of a turnout. You don't even know how Yuta set it up, but since the renovations to the parking garage weren't nearly finished yet, it was closed off from the rest of the public. Which meant for you, it was the perfect place for races to be conducted without having to worry about any civilians.

You finally reach the barrier gate where Yunho and Changbin are standing post.

"Hey, Sunny," Changbin says to Summer.

"Hi, Binnie," she sweetly smiles as she hands him the money for the entry fee, "I'll see you in there?" she asks.

"Yeah," Changbin smiles, "You're good to go, y/n." he nods to you.

"Okay, what the fuck was that?" Nyla asks Summer as you start following the cars down to the underground level.

"What?" Summer asks.

"You and Binnie?" You raise your brows, "When did that start?"

"It's nothing. We're just friends."

You and Nyla share a glance in your rearview mirror. "Sure, whatever you say," Nyla drops it.

Just as you reach the bottom level, you see Haechan driving in the opposite direction, and you roll down your window to talk to him. 

"Where are you guys going, we just got here?" you ask Haechan.

"Damien called Jaemin out," Hyuck tells you, "Come on," he waves at you to follow him.  

You tail Haechan's car up to the third level and easily find a few more of your friends, or rather their cars, knowing they're somewhere close by. Parking between Jungwoo and Xiaojun's cars, you gravitate toward the cluster of your friends, spotting a mop of silky jet-black hair among them.  

"Yuta!" you walk up with open arms to be embraced in a hug.

"I know I was only gone for two weeks but seems like I've missed a lot anyway," Yuta says, "So, where is lover boy Mark?"

"He's on his way," you say. 

"I can't believe it took all these years for you two to finally get together," he teased.

"I'm starting to get tired of hearing this," you roll your eyes playfully. 

"Well, it's true. You two were so ridiculously down bad for one another," Yuta teases, and you lightly hit his arm.

More people begin filling in as they anticipate the race about to go down. Jaemin's car sits at the starting point, along with Damien's. Now the only thing you're left waiting for is Johnny, Yangyang, Hendery, and Jaehyun to set up their positions around the so-called track.

"Fuck this," your impatience gets the best of you, and you snatch the walkie-talkie from Chenle's back pocket, "Are we ready?" you ask.

"Track's all clear, we're good to go," Johnny responds to you. 

Once you have confirmation from all five groups, you take the lead and stand in front of the cars. 

"You guys already know the rules. It's five levels from here to the top. Whoever makes it there first, wins," you clarify, "Ready?" you ask Jaemin and Damien. 

They both nod and you motion for them to inch their cars up just a bit so their bumpers line up exactly. You raise your hands, and the crowd begins cheering as both cars rev up. You drop your arms, and you're engulfed in the smoke their burnouts left behind as the cars whipped past you. As everyone else runs for the elevator and stairs to get to the rooftop before Jaemin and Damien do, there's only one person not moving along with the herds of people, walking toward you instead.

"You're probably the hottest race marshal I've ever seen," Mark says as you turn on your heels, almost crashing right into him.

"Mark," your face splits into a smile, cupping his face and kissing his lips.

"Miss me, baby?" he asks with a chuckle.

"Yeah, pretty boy," you tease.

Mark kisses you again, firmly keeping one hand on your lower back.

"Hey! Y'all can suck faces later, but get your asses in here now!" Summer yells from the elevator. 

Remembering the race, you grab Mark's hand, run into the elevator, and head for the top floor. 

Since Yangyang and Jaehyun were exclusively live-streaming the entire race for people to watch from the different levels they were on, everyone's eyes were glued to their phones, waiting for Jaemin and Damien to reach the top. You all watch from Jisung's phone as Jaemin takes the lead once he passes Ten on the sixth floor, drifting the turn up to the seventh, and you smile proudly since you had been the one who taught him how to in the first place.

You can hear the tires screeching and the deep resonance of the engines making their way up each floor. Hitting one last turn and perfectly timing his gear shift, Jaemin drifts his car up the ramp. The cheers of the crowd were deafening as everyone celebrated Jaemin's win, even himself, with a few victory donuts.

You would've been right there alongside everyone else, congratulating Jaemin on his win if Mark hadn't used this chance while everyone was distracted and not paying attention to either of you.

Your back meets a concrete wall with a soft thud while Mark's lips attack yours.

"What's with you, Markie?" You ask.

A low groan rumbles in his chest, "You're just so…fucking beautiful."

"Thank you, baby," you kiss his nose.

"Hey, Mark!" someone calls him, "How about you lay off your girl for a bit and let us see if you're still the big shot you thought you were in high school," Sean says.

You turn to Sean with your brows raised. The only thing holding you back from wiping that snarky grin off his face is Mark's arm still wrapped around you.

Mark's entire demeanor was calm as he nodded at Sean, "Alright. Me and you, right now," Mark says.

You follow Mark back down to the ground floor to get his car, riding with him. He holds your hand the entire drive back up to the third level, where spectators had already lined the pathway, expecting the next race.

"Do I really need to wish you luck?" you ask Mark as you look over at Sean overconfidently revving up his engine.

"I know I can take him. But I'd still appreciate it from you."

"Baby, you got this," you kiss his lips.

Mark watches as you sit back and lift your hips, reaching under your skirt to pull your panties down your legs. You hand the bunched-up lace to Mark, leaning over to his ear. "But just hold onto these just in case. Your good luck charm," you smirk.

Mark chuckles as he shoves your underwear into his pocket, looking over at you with a smile playing on his lips. "You just wait until I can get you alone," Mark pulls you in for one last kiss before you get out of his car.

You join everyone else on the sidelines as Yuta riles the crowd up. Mark looks over at you and winks. Yuta raises his arms, and Sean dramatically burns out his tires while Mark comfortably sits back in his seat. With him looking so relaxed, settling into his element behind the wheel makes heat pool in your lower stomach. Subtly pressing your thighs together, you begin to regret handing over your underwear, feeling the warmth between your legs.

"Go!" Yuta yells, and both cars take off. Summer grabs your hand, leading you to the elevator to head back up to the top floor.

As you all wait for Mark and Sean's cars to near the final level, the door to the stairwell swings open, and Nyla trudges through, making her way over to you all.

"Why're you out of breath?" Jeno asks, receiving a glare from Nyla.

"Jae and I were on the fourth floor, and those steps.." she gasps, "are no joke." Once she finally catches her breath, Nyla tells you, "I left my bag in your car, I need your keys."

You reach into your skirt pocket and pluck out your keys, handing them to Nyla before she heads for the elevator. Turning your attention back to the race, you recognize the sound of Mark's engine, and you smile as his car drifts up the ramp, beating Sean. Mark's tires screech against the pavement before he takes his foot off the gas and gets out of his car. The crowd rushes Mark, celebrating his win, you along with them.

"I told you you had him," you say to Mark.

"I'll say it was your good luck charm that secured it," he smirked.

But all the celebrating is cut short when you see people running before you hear the sirens making their way up the levels of the garage, and Mark instinctively grabs your hand.

"And I think that's our cue," Renjun grabs his drink and gets into Jeno's car.

It's hard to tell which direction the sirens are coming from as the sound bounces off every surface in the open space.

"Get in," Mark says to you, Summer, and Jisung.

You trust Nyla enough with your car to not even be concerned about it and jump into the passenger seat. Mark wastes no time shifting into drive once you're all inside and starts looking for an escape route. He avoids the exit everyone else was trying to leave from as a traffic jam starts building up, and people honking their horns isn't helping to get things moving.

"Is that Chenle?" you hear Summer ask from the backseat. You then turn your head to see the blue and red lights shadowing Chenle's silhouette as he runs toward Mark's car.

"Dude, come on!" Jisung yells to Chenle, opening the door.

Chenle dives head-first into the back seat, throwing himself across Summer and Jisung's laps.

"Go, go, go!" Chenle exclaims. Mark presses his foot on the gas and begins speeding away.

Finally finding a clear exit, Mark floors it before yanking his e-break as a police car turns the corner. You hear the cops' megaphone telling Mark to stop driving and for all of you to get out of the vehicle.

"Mark," you call him warily.

"I know," he shifts gears, "Hold on," he says, reversing the car, looking through the rear windshield over his shoulder, and putting his hand behind the headrest of your seat.

Mark expertly drives his car backward, turning the wheel with one hand, and the police continue to chase after you before Mark reaches another exit. Ending up back on the city streets, you lose the police tail, and you feel a sigh of relief throughout the entire car.

"Yeah I'm with her, Mark, Chenle, and Jisung," you hear Summer say. "Ningning's with Nyla and they have your car," she tells you as she's on the phone.

"Thank god. Tell them to bring it to Johnny's."

"They're already on their way."

Mark's car drives up to Johnny's house around the same time everyone else arrives. Just like always, the party goes on as if nothing had happened. Summer, Jisung, and Chenle get out of the car, Chenle already retelling the events of what just happened to Yangyang and Haechan when they meet in the front yard.

You and Mark don't get out yet, the two of you just silently holding each other's gaze. Mark had one hand lazily thrown over the wheel, sitting back in his seat as he eyed you.

"Mark, get out of the car," you tell him.

"Why?" Mark asks.

"Between the way you just handled that and the way you're looking at me right now, I can't promise I can hold myself back any longer."

Mark's eyes drift down from your face, tugging his lip between his teeth. The corners of his lips curl up as he takes his car out of park. Mark pulls his car into Johnny's garage, and the party fades into a dull hum once the door shuts. You and Mark are now alone, only in the presence of the other dormant vehicles in the garage. 

Mark turns his car off, and you push yourself out of your seat, leaning over the console to kiss him. Mark's hand blindly fumbles with the seat adjuster to move his seat back and allow you to climb into his lap. 

"What's gotten into you?" Mark asks, smiling against your lips. 

"You," you card your fingers through the soft blonde curls, "Mark, you're just so..hot," you roll your hips into his. Mark's hands slide up your thighs, slipping under your skirt. You can already feel the wetness dripping onto Mark's jeans, the rough material deliciously dragging against your clit. You moan around Mark's tongue, and he grips your body tighter. You accidentally lean against the wheel, hitting the horn, startling yourself and Mark.

Mark laughs along with you, "Backseat?"

"Backseat," you nod before climbing into the back of his car.

Now with more room, you grab Mark and comfortably settle in his lap. You feel the bulge in his jeans against your inner thigh and roll your hips into his. Mark's head falls back against the window, and you take the opportunity to kiss his neck. Mark's eyes flutter shut as you cradle the back of his head and sink your teeth into his skin. The moan that falls from his lips causes you to get wetter.

"Mark?"

"Yeah, baby?"

"Can I?" you ask, slipping your hand between your bodies and palming him through his pants.

"Yeah."

You slide out of his lap and quickly undo the button of his jeans. You waste no time trying to get his clothes off and just pull his cock out of his underwear, your mouth already salivating.

"Oh, Mark," you clench your thighs together, "You're so pretty."

His breathing becomes shallow as he says, "Thank you."

"You're welcome, baby," you kiss the tip of his cock before kitten-licking the drips of precum leaking down his shaft.

Mark sharply gasps, and the grin on your face grows bigger. You let spit dribble out of your mouth and onto his dick to assist your hand, jerking him. You wrap your lips around the sensitive tip, slowly sucking him into your mouth. Mark softly groans, placing his hand on your head. He brushes your hair out of the way so he can see your face.

"My god, look at you," he swipes a string of spit hanging from your lips when you come up for air. You playfully bite his thumb before taking his cock back into your mouth.

Hearing Mark's heavy breathing slowly turn into breathy whimpers encourages you to take more of him down your throat. You feel one of Mark's hands sliding down your back, flipping your skirt over your ass. He dips a finger into your pussy, humming approvingly when he feels how wet you are.

You are grateful his windows were tinted well past the legal limit just in case someone drunkenly stumbled into the garage.

"You get this wet from just sucking my dick, princess?" Mark smirks as he plays with your folds. "Such a dirty dirty girl," he calls you, making you moan around his cock and clench around his fingers. You lose focus and drop your head to his thigh.

"Mark," you whine as he curls his two fingers against your soft walls.

"Come on, baby," he strokes your head, "You're doing so good for me."

You slide his cock back into your mouth upon his words, swirling your tongue around the tip. Mark rests his head against the foggy window and utters soft praises between moans.

You smile, "You sound so pretty for me, Mark,"

"Feels so good," he tells you.

"Gonna cum for me, pretty boy?"

"Yes."

You ignore the burn in your arm and pump his cock faster in your hand. "Cum for me, Mark. I know you want to."

"I do, I do—fuck—I do," his voice cracks.

Your name mixed with his moans, had you dripping down your thighs. You bob your head to the same rhythm as your hand. Mark's thighs twitch, and he bucks his hips against your face. You feel the warmth filling your mouth as Mark cums. Waiting until you feel his cock soften against your tongue, you pull yourself off him and swallow his cum.

"Fuck," he sighs, "You're so good to me."

"Anything for my pretty boy," you kiss him.

Mark grabs the back of your neck, deepening the kiss. He pushes his tongue past your lips, tasting the lingering saltiness in your mouth. Mark pulls you back on top of him to straddle his thigh. You start grinding your hips against his denim-clad leg.

"As much as I like having you beneath me I think I like seeing you on top of me more," Mark says, looking up at you. "That feel good, princess?" he asks, purposely flexing his thigh.

"Yes," you whimper.

"You that desperate, you gotta fuck yourself on my thigh like this?"

"For you, yes," you tell him.

Mark cups your ass beginning to direct your movements as he holds eye contact with you. You can't take it anymore and bury your head in his neck. "What's wrong, baby?"

"I'm gonna cum," you mumble against his throat.

"Already?" he teases. Mark pulls your face out of the crook of his neck. "Let me see your pretty face when you cum for me."

"Mark," you grab onto his shoulders.

"Yeah, sweetheart? Say my name."

"Mark, please."

You throw your head back, squeezing your eyes shut and digging your manicured nails into Mark's skin.

"That's it, baby. That's my good girl," he rubs his hands up your thighs, and you continue to ride out your high.

You slump against Mark's body, and he holds you close, rubbing his hand up and down your back.

"That was so hot." Mark says.

You smile into the kiss, "The things you do to me, Mark Lee."

You hear a knock on the door, and Mark rolls down the window just a crack to see who it is.

"Yes?" you say to Johnny, standing outside the car.

"In my garage? Really?" Johnny placed his hands on his hips like a disappointed father.

"It's my car," Mark says.

"In my garage."

"Jesus, here he goes."

"We'll be out in a sec." you say to Johnny before rolling the window back up.

"I'm not finished with you yet," Mark says as he buttons up his jeans.

"Neither am I," You grab his hand as you exit the garage and head toward the house, "And I mean…Johnny does have four other spare bedrooms," you say, and Mark smirks at you, following you into the house.

[11:25 PM] WEDNESDAY 

"Are you sure you like it?" Mark asks you for what seems like the fifth time tonight.

"Mark, why would I lie to you?" you ask.

"I don't know, you just seemed to love the blonde so much," he says, running his fingers through his silky dark hair.

Knowing Mark was planning on dying his hair back before his brother's wedding and seeing how his roots started to grow, you should've expected the change sooner rather than later. But still, you were surprised when he showed up at your parent's house for dinner, and you answered the door to find the brunette instead of the blonde you were expecting.

"Yeah, but you're still pretty, babe," you comb your fingers through his hair, making him lean into your touch.

"Thank you," he sheepishly smiles, lowering his head, attempting to hide the blush from the others rather than you. "So, I have a question for you," Mark says.

"What is it?" you ask.

"How would you like to-"

"Race wars date and location just dropped," Jaemin announces, standing from his seat.

With all of you sitting around the living room, you all wait for Jaemin to tell you.

"Well, are you gonna tell us?" Jeno asks impatiently.

"Not with that attitude," Jaemin scoffs. He clears his throat as if he's making an official announcement, stating the location before saying the date, "It starts next Friday-"

"Next Friday? Like the Friday after this one?" Mark asks.

"That is…what next Friday means?" Jaemin says.

"Mark, no," you start.

"I'm sorry," Mark looks at you apologetically.

"Wait, what?" Nyla asks.

"My brother's wedding is next Friday."

"Couldn't you just come afterwards?" Johnny asks.

"Not with that long ass drive. I know I'm good, but I'm not that good."

You were wracking your brain for every possible scenario you can come up with so that Mark would be able to go with you.

"I don't know if I'm the only one thinking this but why can't you just come down Saturday?" Chenle asks.

"I mean he could, but they changed the rule with check-in to keep too many locals from taking up space. So check-in is only available Friday. He wouldn't be able to race." Yangyang says.

"What's so wrong with that?" Summer asks.

"It's his first race wars. You really think he'd want to sit on the sidelines with you all weekend?" Renjun asks.

"Now, you listen, Huang-" Summer starts.

The bickering among your friends continued as you sit quietly, still thinking.

"What if I went with you?" you ask.

"To my brother's wedding?" Mark questions.

"I'm not trying to forcefully invite myself. But if I go with you, you and I can do that drive. We'd get there pretty late but I'm pretty sure if I talk to Taeyong I can work something out."

"You wouldn't be inviting yourself since I was just about to invite you myself."

"Really? You were gonna ask me to come as your date?" you ask, endeared.

"Well I was gonna ask you to come as my girlfriend—I mean technically you'd still be my date, but my date as my girlfriend-"

You hear nothing else after girlfriend. His girlfriend. Mark's girlfriend.

"Mark, are you kidding me?" you ask, genuinely in disbelief.

"No?"

You grab Mark's shirt and kiss him. That definitely got everyone quiet.

"Woah, woah, what did we just miss?" Haechan asks.

"I'm taking your answer as a yes," Mark says to you.

"Yes, Mark. I will come to your brother's wedding as your girlfriend," you can't help the grin stretching across your face as you say it. You then move your legs out of his lap and turn to the rest of the group. "Alright, so here's what's going to happen," you start explaining your plan to everyone.

[7:21 AM] (next) FRIDAY

"Sunny, let's go!" Nyla yells from the front door.

"I'm coming," Summer replies, dragging her oversized suitcase down the steps behind her.

Following her down the stairs, you meet the rest of your friends outside. You make sure you've packed everything you'd need for the weekend in your car before you hand your keys over to Sungchan.

"Sungchan, do you understand how much I'm trusting you right now. This is my baby," you tell him.

"Yes, I know. I promise I'll be careful with her," Sungchan nods.

You watch as Shotaro helps the younger boy hook your car up to the rig connected to the back of Sungchan's vehicle.

"Kun just called me before he boarded his flight, and said the house is ready for us. And we should really get a move on if we don't wanna hit traffic," Hendery says.

"Though I do appreciate Kun letting us use the vacation house, why isn't he going?" Goeun asks.

"He's flying out to Shanghai to meet up with Winwin. He said the car scene out there is some next level shit," Yangyang says.

"So what I'm hearing is we're making a trip to China soon," Summer says.

"Can we get to this race wars first?"

"We'll see you and Mark later tonight?" Nyla asks before she gets into Jaehyun's car. You confirm with a nod. "Have fun." she tells you.

"You too. But not too much without us," you say.

"No promises," Jaehyun playfully winks at you before driving away.

[1:19 PM]

As your Uber pulls up to the venue, you feel the smile rushing to your face when you see Mark outside waiting for you. He opens your door and holds his hand out for you.

"Wow, baby, you look…damn," he licks his lips as he stands back to get a full view of you.

"Mark, knock it off," you laugh.

Mark excitedly squeezes your hand as he walks you inside, his body seemingly buzzing.

"Babe, you okay?" you ask Mark.

"Yeah, I'm just excited to introduce you to everyone."

"We basically grew up together, Mark. Haven't I been introduced to practically everyone."

"Yeah, but not as my girlfriend," he grins.

You both made your rounds for a bit, Mark proudly showing you off to everyone before he got called away when all the groomsmen were needed for pictures, leaving you to wander over to the bar.

"I see all this secret pining has finally come to an end," you hear a voice from someone at the bar beside you. Seeing the cousin of the bride wasn't surprising, but you're still happy to see him after all these years.

"It was about time, wasn't it," you say to Doyoung.

"I'll say. It was exhausting watching you two be in love and not say anything to each other," Doyoung says.

"In love? Okay, now you're over-exaggerating," you roll your eyes, sipping your drink.

"Taeil, back me up on this," Doyoung calls his friend.

"On what?" Taeil asks, turning to you two.

"This one and Mark being so obviously in love since high school."

Taeil turns to you and starts laughing, "Oh, you're serious?" he stops laughing, "Well he's right."

"Taeil, you're not supposed to take his side!" you cross your arms over your chest.

"Sorry, kid."

Once it was time for the ceremony to start, the wedding coordinator ushered everyone to their seats. Before the groom came out, Mark walked down the aisle along with the maid of honor. 

"You ready for that to be you next?" Doyoung asks Taeil as Mark's brother walks out. 

"Am I," he smiled at his girlfriend, who stood along with the rest of the bridesmaids. 

"I'm sorry did I miss something?" you ask. 

"Oh right, I'm engaged, by the way," Taeil says nonchalantly as music for the bride starts playing. 

"What the fuck?" you try to whisper, "Oh my god, since when?"

"Since last month," he answers. 

You don't have time to celebrate the news anymore, with Doyoung shushing the two of you as the groom and bride start their vows. 

The last time you attended a wedding was before you could even drive, so you barely remember what happened, but you can count you weren't as emotional at the last one. It may also have to do with your proximity to the couple, almost feeling as if you were watching your own brother get married. You try to keep your composure as the bride continues on her vows. 

"There's nothing in my life I regret since it had all led me to you. I knew I loved you from the second we met. You've seen my at my bests and worsts. You know about all the good, the bad, the ugly, the dirty, yet you still accept and love me as I am. All the days I've spent with you, laughing, crying, smiling, yelling and there's not a single one I would take back or change-"

You can't stop the tears welling up in your eyes. You didn't really think the bride's vows would tug at your heartstrings the way they did, and all you can think about is Mark. Your eyes find his already looking at you.

As the tears fall, you give him a small smile before mouthing, "I love you," to him.

Mark tries to fight the smile coming to his face, not wanting to draw attention to himself before he mouths back, "I love you too."

You hadn't even realized the tears were streaming down your face until Doyoung handed you a tissue.

"Thank you," you whisper. 

"It's just so beautiful, isn't it?" Taeil asks, also crying and pulling out his own tissues.

[5:57 PM]

Between dancing and socializing at the reception, while waiting for the cake to be cut, you and Mark ended up leaving later than you originally planned.

By the time you were in Mark's car and on the road, the sun had started to set. Mark had one hand on the wheel while you had the other in your lap, fiddling with his fingers. You look over at him, your chest filling with warmth as you take in the way the pink and orange hues contour his features.

"You know I meant what I said before," you break the silence.

"I know," he kisses the back of your hand, "I just didn't expect you'd say it first."

"Why's that?"

"Because I know how guarded you can be with your feelings sometimes," he explains, "But still, I've been in love with you since I was 16—It's kinda crazy actually, I didn't realize it until I was already on my flight to Korea."

You ignore the tears pricking your eyes as you lean closer to Mark, peppering his face with kisses.

"I love you, Mark Lee."

[10:13 AM] SATURDAY

You wake up with the sun shining on your face. You turn over, searching for the warmth of Mark's body. Considering how tired you both were, practically collapsing onto the bed when you two finally arrive some time after two this morning, you're surprised to not find Mark still sleeping beside you, his side of the bed empty.

"Mark?" you call him without opening your eyes.

"Yeah?" you hear him reply.

"Where are you?" you ask, eyes still closed.

"I'm right here, baby," you hear his voice a lot closer as the mattress sinks under his weight.

You feel his lips on yours. Still half asleep, your reaction was delayed before you kissed him back.

"This early in the morning, Mark?" you ask with a lazy smile.

"As hard as it was to stop myself yesterday, I also have a feeling we'll be pretty busy all weekend, so I'll take every chance I get." he says.

You laugh as his nose ghost over your throat, sending goosebumps all over your skin. Mark slips his hand under the shirt of his you were wearing and cups your breast in his hand. You arch into his touch, nibbling on his bottom lip. Your head sinks into the pillows when Mark rolls the pad of his thumb over your perky nipple. Mark doesn't take his eyes away from your face as he takes one of your nipples into his mouth.

Your hand finds his hair, and your fingers curl around the messy dark locks as he swirls his tongue around your areola. He gently tugs your nipple between his teeth, and you roll your hips against his thigh between your legs. 

"Mark..." you finally open your eyes to look at your boyfriend.

"Can I?" he asks, toying with the hem of your panties. 

"Please," you nod. 

Mark pulls your underwear down your legs and grips your thighs as he comfortably settles on his stomach. He guides your legs over his shoulder while leaving a trail of kisses and small bites up your thighs. Mark runs the tip of his tongue along your slit, humming when your juices land on his tastebuds. 

"Oh my god, Mark," your nails lightly scratch his scalp. 

He moans back at you in response, the vibrations from his mouth sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. Your eyes screw shut, and you bite your lips so hard you're afraid you've drawn blood. You try with everything in your body to stay quiet. But with Mark messily eating you out, languidly moving his skilled tongue against your walls, you can't even stay still, let alone be quiet. 

"Please, baby, don't stop," you tell him. 

Before you even register the knock on your door, Summer enters your room, and your entire body freezes. 

"Hey-Where's Mark?"

You glance at Mark under the covers between your thighs, out of sight, and he smirks. You try to hide your reaction as he teasingly kitten-licks your clit. You squeeze your thighs around his head and quickly rush out an answer for Summer. 

"He went to go refill his tank before we go out today," you say. 

"Oh, okay. Well, breakfast is ready in ten, then we're all leaving around 11. Cool?"

You nod. "Yeah, yeah. We'll be ready by then."

Once Summer leaves, you barely have time to be relieved with Mark picking up like he never really stopped, making you cum on his tongue. 

"Fuck, Mark," you squirm, letting your orgasm wash over you. Mark continues lapping at your folds until he's satisfied. Coming from under the covers, Mark wipes the lower half of his face with the back of his hand. 

"What the fuck was that?" you ask, breathless. 

"You told me not to stop," he grins, and you roll your eyes, "You can't even act like you hate me 'cause I know you love me," he kisses you. 

"I'm beginning to rethink that decision," you tease. 

[2:24 PM]

Having been out in the sun practically all day watching races and even taking a few rides yourself, you decided to give your car and yourself a break from the sun. You parked under one of the canopies Johnny set up and took a seat on your hood. Coming back from watching Chenle race Ningning, you spot the top of Mark's head through the crowd, beginning to make his way over to you.

The look on his face can only be compared to that of a kid in a candy store. You love watching the way his eyes light up talking about the race, rambling on and on, you not minding one bit.

"So, is this everything you hoped it'd be?" you ask Mark.

He nods, subtly parting your legs to stand between them. "And so much more," he kisses you.

"Hey!" someone yells, grabbing everyone's attention, "how about you and me," Leo calls Mark out.

"Alright, how much?" Mark asks.

"No money," Leo smiles before turning to you, "I win, I get to take you out."

"As fucking if," you slide off the hood of your car, Mark instinctively wrapping his arm around you before you can get too far, some of the others coming to your defense as well. "You already had your chance and fucked that up. What makes you think I'll willingly put myself through that again? You wanna try and make yourself feel better by racing him, it'll be for two grand take it or leave it," you say to Leo.

"So he can have a shot at winning a date through a race but I can't?" Leo asks.

"Because he didn't try to win me over like I'm just a pink slip, and he doesn't have an ego bigger than an eighteen-wheeler."

"Fine. You're on, Mark," Leo nods at your boyfriend, "But we'll see if you'll feel the same when I beat him across the line," Leo smirks at you, and you scoff.

Spectators gather on either side of the runway, cheering for either racer as their cars pull up to the starting line. You had been suspiciously eyeing Leo the entire time he sat in his car with that stupid grin on his face.

"What's wrong?" Mark asks you.

"I don't doubt that you can beat him. But I don't trust he won't try anything," You say before walking up to Taeyong while Sean talks to him. "I'm riding with Mark," you tell Taeyong.

"What? You can't," Sean crossed his arms.

"There aren't any rules against it," Taeyong says.

"And how exactly do you think that'll help your little boyfriend? It can throw off his equilibrium and slow him down," Sean tries looking down his nose at you.

"Which is why you're gonna get your ass in that passenger's seat and ride with your little bestie over there," you point to Leo's car, "I mean, it's not like you haven't already gotten your own front row experience losing to my little boyfriend," you tilt your head. Sean grumbles before he walks over to Leo's car, and you get into Mark's.

"We're really doing this?" Mark asks.

"Ride or die, remember?" you hold out your hand.

Mark smiles, finishing the quote as he takes your hand, "Ride or die."

a/n: i’m telling y’all ever since ay-yo, mark has been living in my head rent free—currently the owner of a few properties, if you will. this is the longest thing i’ve ever written and tbh it would’ve been longer if there wasn’t a text block limit so i did the best with what i had 😭 and like i said before all my knowledge about cars is based off the fast and furious movies so…thank you so much for reading!! feedback is appreciated <33 tag list <33: @chardonnayyyy @aliceinwhateverland @itzz-me-duh @nctevia @sirens-dreams @pieddpiperr @yujuvly @scarletsknight

#nct #nct 127 #nct dream #nct u #mark lee #nct mark #nct dream mark #nct 127 mark #mark scenarios #nct smut #nct imagines #mark imagines #nct dream smut #nct x reader #nct dream imagines #mark smut #mark lee smut #mark lee x you #nct dream x reader #nct 127 smut #nct 127 scenarios #nct 127 imagines #street racing au #nct au #mark oneshot #mark x reader #drugs cw #nct fanfic #nct dream oneshots #smut

[foldingfittedsheets]

Come with me now on another story adventure.

Some types of hardship do start to feel like curses if they happen often enough. One thing I’ve experienced a lot- or at least enough to posit a curse- is my apartments flooding.

I’ve had flooding in three separate apartments I’ve lived in.

The place I lived with Betty flooded due to a massive rainstorm and poor placement on a downhill slope. Betty’s room was more effected than mine, but due to poor handling by the management it resulted in some rampant black mold and my eventual falling out with Betty as we broke the lease to escape.

My first flooding though. Happened when I lived in a third floor apartment. How, you might ask, is that possible?

Oh, Reader. Prepare yourself.

Now, I need to set the stage. Because you see, I shared this apartment with the last boy I’d ever date. For the purposes of this story let’s call him Connor. We’d known going into the relationship that I had a predilection for pussy but it finally clicked that I was just not attracted to men.

This was particularly devastating because I still loved that boy with all my heart but neither of us were getting what we needed out of the relationship. Suffice it to say, the atmosphere in the apartment in which he was sleeping on the couch was A BUMMER.

We were both sick, probably from stress, and had bad coughs. It was the night before midterms.

I was tucked up into bed, with little kitten Leeloo, ready to get to sleep. It was about 10pm. Connor knocked and poked his head into the room.

“It’s raining in the bathroom,” he said.

I got out of my comfy bed, and joined him in the bathroom. Raining was an exaggeration but there was definitely water dripping down the door jam and pooling up under the paint.

“That’s not good.”

We both stared at this problem together, sick and sad.

Finally, I suggested, “Go see if the upstairs neighbor left a faucet on. I’ll try to call maintenance.”

He left and I started making calls. At 10pm it was understandable that I was getting a lot of voicemails. Two maintenance lines deep, Connor returned.

“The people above us are getting drops too, and the place above that won’t respond.”

Four defunct numbers later, I finally got ahold of an emergency maintenance guy who was on call. “It’s raining in our bathroom.”

He was befuddled and said he’d be in soon.

That was about when it really actually started raining. Drips began pouring out of light fixtures. Terrified, we turned off the lights we could, setting out bowls and towels to mitigate water damage. Water dripped from several lights and started pooling ominously in the long flat kitchen light.

The maintenance man arrived around midnight. There was bowls and buckets littering the ground as Connor and I watched in abject misery as water filled them. The maintenance man was wildly out of his depth, having been left in sole charge while the entire rest of the staff was on vacation.

As we spoke to him, the water infiltrated our smoke alarm which began screaming in earnest at this wet invasion. The maintenance man promised to try to see what was causing the issue and fled. Connor and I regarded each other. We coughed, sick and exhausted, then went to empty the water buckets.

An hour passed. The smoke alarm persisted, it’s three shrill screeches pounded relentlessly into our ear drums. We stopped existing as individuals and became vessels of suffering. The paint in the bathroom started sloughing off the wall in wet ripples.

Connor tried to rouse the neighbor again and returned unsuccessful.

The maintenance man returned. It was 1am. He couldn’t get ahold of the apartment causing the flooding. He couldn’t get ahold of his bosses. After the update he made to leave and we begged him, please, just make the beeping stop, please. It can rain inside, and I can get no sleep the night before midterms, and I can cough miserably all night while I empty water bowls, but please, god, please, just make the beeping stop.

He promised to try and left. At some point around then, the flat kitchen light shattered under the pressure and gushed out a fall of water. Connor and I gave a bleak half hearted startle and tried to scrounge up more towels.

I started slipping into madness. The unceasing blaring beeps. The rain. The misery of being in this wretched situation with someone I used to be able to reach toward for comfort who I couldn’t anymore. This was hell, I decided. This circumstance fits into how they torture people, and I live here in this torturescape now. The maintenance man was never coming back.

The maintenance man came back with a ladder eventually.

Connor and I watched with blank hungry eyes as he fussed with the alarm and at 2am it finally ceased its shrieking klaxon of madness. I cried. The man left again. We emptied the bowls.

And finally, half an hour later, the rain began to abate. The maintenance man returned to inform us that he’d entered the upstairs unit.

Someone had become incapacitated and left their bath running. He was not at liberty to disclose what happened so presumably someone was sauced out of their gourd and fell into a deep stupor such that several hours of sustained door pounding couldn’t rouse them.

People all down the row flooded, and he looked near tears himself. We thanked him and went to collapse into bed. Neither of us took midterms the next day.

Connor and I are still friends to this day, even after a night fit to drive someone mad.

My last event of apartment flooding was a sewer main getting blocked. It was when my betrothed and I had just started dating and they were hanging out at my place while I was at work. Due to this good fortune, they were able to move my couch, entertainment system, and electronics out of the path of the flood.

It took a week and some extremely pointed emails to get the landlord to comp me rent for the week I couldn’t live there and the entire time I was just thankful I wasn’t stuck with water dripping from my lights while a fire alarm drove me to the brink of madness.

#ramblies #storytime #funny #funny story #writing #honestly just have some schadenfreude #cause it’s fucking funny now to look back on it #ffs foibles #curse #raining #flooding

[blue-likethebird]

Reusing the memory system from botw for the tears of the dragon storyline in totk was such a terrible decision on so many different levels that it’s honestly kind of impressive.

While the botw memory system had flaws of its own, there was one small but significant thing that worked in its favour: botw’s memories were largely separate from the main plot in the past, and have absolutely no bearing on the story being told in the present. Aside from a few specific instances (ie the calamity striking, the ceremony, Link and Zelda becoming closer) the memories are all self-contained moments that emphasize character development over driving the story. Because there’s no major narrative throughline between them, it gives players more freedom to discover in any order regardless of how much they’ve progressed through the main quest without running the risk of stumbling across a memory that ruins something else later on in the game.

(This got long so the rest of my analysis is going under the cut.)

The biggest change between the memories from botw and the dragon’s tears from totk is definitely what kind of information these cutscenes relay to you as the player. Botw’s memories are primarily snapshots of small interpersonal moments that hold very little significance to the greater narrative taking place in the past. Totk’s memories are the greater narrative. With only one major exception -that I’ll touch on in a sec-, every cutscene in the dragon’s tears shows a crucial moment of story development with no time left to explore the characters driving that story forwards. There’s no organic moment revealing, say, a quirk of Rauru’s that Mineru finds annoying, or Sonia’s sense of humour, or any of our literal Main Villain Ganondorf’s motivations for going to war with Hyrule. If there’s any moments of character focus they only happen in ways that advance the plot (meaning the only real character focus is on the characters totk wants the entire universe to orbit around, namely Rauru and Zelda), and as such it’s harder to bring myself to care about what happens to anyone.

To illustrate the point I’m trying to make here, compare the memories of the champions Link regains during the divine beast quests to the conversations with the ancient sages at the end of each temple. The memories make passing mentions of the ongoing preparations for the calamity, but the real purpose of those scenes is to showcase who the champions were as people before their deaths and give us a reason to mourn them, even though we know at the start of our journey that they’re all long gone. In contrast, the conversations with the ancient sages are all about the events of the imprisoning war and their promise to Zelda that their descendants will come to Link’s aid in the future, very obviously copy pasted for each of the five times that cutscene is brought up (which is a particularly egregious moment of bad quest design but that’s a rant for another time) in such a way that none of the 5 incarnations of that cutscene reveal anything new about the ancient sages as characters, to the point where none of them even show their faces. I care about Daruk because the game shows me that he cares deeply about the wellbeing of his fellow champions and brings out the best in others. So why should I care about the nameless, faceless sage of water? What’s there to move me about their struggles if my only interactions with the sages are a series of exposition dumps? If the game can’t give me a reason to sincerely care about its main characters, the whole rest of the story is meaningless.

(As an aside, I get the feeling someone on the dev team caught on to the issue I’m describing here, because the tea party memory sticks out like a sore thumb from the rest of the dragon tear cutscenes. It’s such a jarring change of pace to have the otherwise plot-heavy dragon’s tears come screeching to a halt for a scene where Sonia sits down with Zelda to have a cute little tea party and talk about absolutely nothing of significance that the whole thing almost seems like it was hastily tacked on to the story later. Given that the next (chronological) memory sees Sonia fall victim to an unceremonious death by chiropractor, it feels like someone realized that Sonia really doesn’t do or say much in the scenes before she dies and threw together the tea party scene so players would have at least one moment to look back on fondly when she’s fridged. But I digress)

The story told in the dragon’s tears is a highly linear one. But the open-ended nature of botw’s memory system remains, meaning that these tears can be found and viewed in any order. At first this doesn’t seem so bad, since the first two tears you’re likely to find if you follow the game’s intended path are also the chronological first and second of the memories you can discover through these geoglyph tears. But after those first two, the game kinda gives up on guiding you towards these tears in a way that flows well with the story they wrote: the closest tear geographically to the two the game initially guides you towards correlates to one of the penultimate scenes of that entire storyline, while the next scene chronologically is found almost halfway across the map. As such, it’s all but guaranteed that you’ll spoil yourself in some way without using either a guide or the (somewhat unintuitive and never fully explained by the game) little map in the forgotten temple. Finding memories in order didn’t matter so much in botw because the scenes you could find still worked well as standalone scenes before you discovered every memory and pieced together the full picture, and the game is never trying to surprise me about the characters’ fates at the end of this storyline: hell the first memory you’re guided to shows the calamity striking. But in contrast, viewing a dragon’s tear at the wrong time can completely ruin the story they’re trying to tell in those cutscenes. During my playthrough, for example, the first tear I found after the game stopped guiding me to them showed Ganondorf removing Sonia’s stone from her dead body. At this point I had known Sonia existed for all of like an hour, so every subsequent appearance she made was ruined for me by the fact that I already knew she was nothing but cannon fodder to be killed off for the sake of another character’s pain (Rauru and Zelda a-fucking-gain). I expected to be pissed that it was so easy to spoil myself, or maybe sad in passing that a character with her potential was so underutilized, but instead I just felt… tired. I wasn’t even halfway to the first settlement and already I was completely numb to the story the game was trying to tell.

But the worst was yet to come. And oh boy was it ever a low point for storytelling in the Zelda series. Remember how I said up above that the memories in botw had no connection to the story in the present? Let’s just say the same cannot be said for the dragon’s tears.

It’s May 2023. I’ve just finished the sage of wind questline. I still have hope that the story the game is trying to tell will be good. Deciding that I’ll go to Goron city next, I head towards the Thyplo skyview tower to expand my map, catch a glimpse of a nearby geoglyph from the air, and glide over to check it out. This geoglyph shows me a memory that not only recaps the entire dragon tear storyline, but also ends on a bit of foreshadowing about Zelda’s fate that’s about as subtle as a brick to the fucking face. By exploring -the thing the game claims it prioritized above all else in the design of its world and quests- I’d once again been hit with spoilers for a major story detail.

My main objective in this game is to find Zelda. It’s the only driving factor behind my journey towards all these different regions. The current big mystery I’m supposed to solve is why Zelda’s causing so much hell for the people of Hyrule. I now knew exactly where she was and what the deal with her appearances in other parts of Hyrule was, and I’d found it completely by accident by doing something the game says over and over again that it wants me to do. Unlike with Sonia’s death, this time I was a mess of emotions. I was pissed the fuck off that this open-world game had punished me twice already for trying to explore. More than that, I was disappointed that a game I had been so excited to play, from a series I had so many fond memories of, had let me down like this. With every subsequent quest where the sages and I chased a Zelda I knew was fake to our next objective, and every NPC wondering where she was that I couldn’t tell the truth to, that disappointment grew. The entire rest of the main story was ruined for me before I had progressed past 1/4th of the regional quests and a third of the dragon’s tears. There was no more sense of anticipation or mystery. I finished the rest of the game with a bitter taste in my mouth and haven’t touched it again since.

Do I think this story could have been good? Honestly, I don’t know, and by now I don’t really care either (that’s a lie. I care so so much and that’s probably why I hate totk as much as I do). But it’s all irrelevant, because like Cinderella’s stepsister cutting off her own heel so she can cram her foot into a glass slipper that’s never going to fit, totk is sabotaged by the devs’ insistence that everything fit itself into a world they custom-made for botw. This isn’t a new formula that the series is following, it’s Nintendo slapping a new coat of paint on an existing skeleton, and I’m not optimistic to see what this particular approach has in store for the Zelda series. Especially not at the price they’re charging for it.

#bluebird.txt #salt of the kingdom #totk critical #long post #totk salt #totk spoilers #apologies to my followers for the long-ass whatever this is #I do think about things that aren’t how much I hate this game I’m just in a mood lmao #negative #it’s fine if you disagree I just had to put my thoughts in words

[valyriantarg]

Dance Of Dragons

1.Harsh truth

Winterfell

Once in Winterfell, Prince Jacaerys had taken his chance and won the trust of Lord Cregan. He was a young lord used to ruling his vassals and even more used to the harsh weather and the wild things that roamed the north.

Cregan and Jace became close friends, hunting together, drinking together and discussing political issues. At night the two exchanged stories of their families. Lord Stark was happy to meet another man like him and found his equal in the prince. Jace spent many days in winterfell enjoying the company of the Stark Lord.

It was a calm afternoon, Cregan and Jace were sitting by the fireplace in the main hall of Winterfell as the autumn wind howled outside the great keep. They were discussing the events that were about to unfold in the continent, but both were surprised by the sound of a dragon's screech coming from the horizon.

"Did you hear that?" Cregan asked his friend, raising his head to listen.

Both Cregan and Jace listened carefully in silence as the sound of the dragon's screeching echoed through the castle. There was no doubt that a dragon was near and judging by the sound of its screeching it was flying towards Winterfell.

They exited the main hall and walked out into the great courtyard of Winterfell. The massive black dragon was hovering right above the castle keep, its wings outstretched as it kept up its wailing scream. They stopped outside the main doors and looked up, Cregan observing the dragon with a mixture of awe and fear.

The mighty black dragon made its descent from the sky and landed outside the great doors of Winterfell. It filled the entire place with its enormous size, its wings outstretched and its tail lashing dangerously from side to side. Cregan watched with awe and cautious as the dragon landed, its massive claws gripping the ground.

Jace saw none other than his step sister Jaehaera. The princess dismounted the cannibal and walked towards Jace and Cregan; she was a vision to behold, Cregan thought, her silver hair flying in the wind, and her amethyst eyes staring at the pair.

“Sister, what brings you to winterfell?” Jace asked her as he approached her. Her dragon remained still behind her thrashing its tail back and forth.

“I’m afraid I carry bad news”. She said and looked at her brother with a solemn face, her amethyst eyes filled with sorrow. The growl of the cannibal making the situation worse.

"What is it?" Jace asked, his voice also soft and worried.

“Luke has been killed. I’m sorry Jace.” she revealed .

Jace's heart froze and his breath caught in his throat as his sister delivered the devastating news to him. He had expected that she came to Winterfell with a message, but not that it would be this harsh.

"Luke is dead?" He spoke in disbelief his eyes already watering.

Jaehaera placed her hand on his.

“When he arrived to Storms End Aemond was already there. He taunted him, threatened to take out his eye as a debt was left unpaid. Luke tried to run away. Aemond chased him on vhagar and…” she paused

Jace listened to his sister, his eyes widening in disbelief as she told him the story of his little brother's death.

"And?" Jace asked her, his voice tense. "What happened afterwards? Jaehaera speak!"

“Vhagar ate Luke and Arrax….” She spoke the final words her eyes already filled with tears.

Jace felt like someone had punched him in the stomach at those final words. His breath catching in his throat as he collapsed on the ground.

“Rhaenyra wants you back for his funeral” she kneeled down and spoke more calmly to him.

“Mother must be devastated. The two of them had a special bond” Jace spoke as he shed tears.

“I promise you brother, Luke will be avenged. They will pay for what they have done.” She said firmly to her brother.

“I’ll stay in winterfell to continue the plans with Lord Stark. But you, you must head back to Dragonstone.” She said and helped him back to his feet.

With these last words Jace was off to Dragonstone leaving Jaehaera back in Winterfell with Lord Cregan Stark.

Taglist

@littleshadow17

@lightdragonrayne

#hotd fanfic #rhaenyra targaryen #cregan stark x reader #daemon targaryen #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys targaryen #cregan stark #lucerys velaryon #aemond targaryen #house of the dragon #a song of ice and fire #asoiaf

[jaazzpur]

Morningstar family redesigns

I kinda wanted to expand on my choices for my redesigns for fun

So first, Lucifer. I really don’t have a lot of issues with his original design, I think it’s fun and fits within the Hazbin universe! I just wanted to reimagine him.

I always liked the idea of Lucifer having curly reddish hair, something about his fall turning his hair red (this design isn’t 100% biblically accurate as it is just for fun), but I toned down the red to be closer to his original blonde since I also like blonde Lucifer, and I figured he’d liked to keep his hair neat so I decided to put it up and take away the hat

I wanted to keep the ring leader theme in his outfit, but I wanted to further incorporate the snake element in his design since I think he’d be proud of his fall (hence why his suit looks burnt and torn, and he shows off his burnt arm, I figured he’d do this intentionally to remind others of his rebellion)

Lastly I changed the entire family’s main colors to purple, as biblically out of the 7 sins Pride is purple and since he’s supposed to rule pride in the show I figured he’d be more purple themed then red, pretty simple🙏

Next Lilith, I think she was the only one out of the three where I didn’t really like her original design. Not only because she didn’t have much going on, but she also looked really similar to Lucifer, to the point where they almost look blood related.

I think Viv’s choices for Lilith were a bit odd, as she had SOO much potential that just wasn’t used.

I kept her blonde hair but I gave it some tan undertones and I put it up into a semi-low slicked back pompadour inspired by some hairstyles you might see young women have in the early 1900s or late 1800s, but I gave her a little down section that fades into a dark purple and looks somewhat feathery due to one adaption of her describing her as a “screech owl”. I kept the purple theme somewhat like the original and plus she technically rules over pride as well, I would have loved to have given her a red theme if pride was red.

Based on these different adaptations of Lilith a took inspiration from each, giving her a flame-themed dress and the upper body of a beautiful women yet still somewhat demon-like, I also put some fluff at the bottom of her dress since I thought it looked kinda like smoke puffs and clouds. Her stomach is covered with gold rings that look somewhat like a snake belly, and I gave her a necklace with a style inspired by some eastern jewelry, the jewels on her necklace are each the color of one of the 7 sins which I thought would be a fun touch and a little bit of a “showing off” of her role as the queen of hell.

lastly I kept her horns since she is meant to be a succubus, but I stylized them a bit to look less like those big ram-like ones since I didn’t really like how odd they looked against her head. I also gave her long slender fingers that faded to a black naturally as in biblical lore she steals babies from mothers and I thought making her hands that she stole the children with look creepy and eerie yet still beautiful was a nice touch.

Lastly, Charlie! Again, I didn’t really have a problem with the original design. I changed her suit color and theme to prides color, put I made her hair curlier and more red/orange like her dads, and I wanted some parts of her suit to resemble his a bit hence the buttons and the back of her suit going out like her dad’s (but a bit shorter for convenience.)

I imagine her being a bit showy so I kinda decked her out in silver, I thought it’d also be a fun mirroring of how her mom is covered in gold. Her shoes are pretty similar to the original, I put a little split at the front of the shoes in the dark purple since Viv has said she has little hooves which I’m not sure is true but I thought it was a fun idea so I kinda hinted at it with that

I changed her irises (is that what they’re called?) to look more snake-like like her dad, and I gave her little horns since I thought they were cute and I wanted her to maybe show them on purpose because she wanted to blend in more with the citizens of hell so they might feel less intimidated by her presence as the princess, that’s also why I didn’t give her a crown :]

Overall this was just a fun little project I did out of curiosity and boredom, these designs aren’t made to criticize or taunt vivziepop since like I said I love her designs already

#art #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel redesign #digital art #purple #charlie morningstar #lucifer morningstar #lilith morningstar #helluva boss #vivziepop

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

Alrighty! @number-one-shadisper-shipper and I binged the Knuckles series today, so time for thoughts! SPOILER ALERT.

I'll admit the show wasn't perfect. I've seen the negative reviews, and I kinda get where they come from. BUT! I did enjoy this show greatly! And I'm not here to complain. Time for some happy thoughts, y'all! 💙🤩

I think you need to have a love, not just tolerance, for the SCU in order to properly enjoy this show. I do have such, so I had a lot of fun with it.

There were definitely scenes from every episode that had me either squealing, laughing, crying, or flipping out. But my favorite was likely the first episode, because come on, we saw the Wachowski family! Most of them, anyway! While I missed Tom's presence, I was grateful for that comment from Maddie about him being "out of town," so he wasn't just gone for no reason.

The SECOND it showed our three space babies hanging out together in their room?! I SCREAMED. THE BOYS!!!!

Tails sitting on his bed tinkering with one of his gizmos, Sonic rocking out to music with an air guitar, and Knuckles exercising from one of the ceiling planks. IT'S THEM!!! They're just hanging out, doing their thing, looking oh so much like brothers. And Sonic's narration at the beginning was GOLD. 🤣💙

Even though we didn't get enough of Maddie being a parent, we definitely got a nice chunk for it only lasting part of an episode. Maddie called Knuckles "one of our kids" (that had me SCREECHING). The angry mama vibes were GOLDEN. 🤣 The way she made breakfast for them, the "Boys, breakfast is ready!" I love the normalcy of it! Can't wait to see more in the future! (Her calling to them with "boys" is somehow just the sweetest thing and I'm melting.)

The poor mailman being like "I just wanna go home, man" 🤣

We were right, fellas, Knuckles had no idea what being grounded meant. 🤣 Although the way Sonic piped up with "Oh, I definitely know what it means," has me suspecting that Sonic himself has gotten grounded a decent amount before. 😂

Knuckles trying to talk back, and Maddie going, "ExCUSE ME?!" then just making those tiny, terrifying noises and Sonic being like "Bro don't mess with Mom when she's mad" (okay, he didn't say "mom" and that made me sad, but the mom vibes were 110% there so I'm here for it). 😂 And since Knuckles snuck out and later Wade said, several times, "Aren't you grounded?" seems to confirm that this entire show is basically what Knuckles does when he's grounded. 🤣 Although ... his comment about not being able to be grounded because he had no home made me very sad. 😭

I did not have an issue with so much Wade screentime! Sure, he isn't my favorite SCU character, but I love what this show did with him! I'd already seen his moments in the movies (like nearly shooting Robotnik in the face with an actual handgun). I like how they gave him actual family issues; a dad who abandoned him and his family, a realistic sister, a mom. Bad family memories. Awkward reunions. They could've made it a joke, but they didn't, and I greatly appreciate that. Especially since I've witnessed firsthand how painful family separations can be. 😔

All the emotional talks Wade and Knuckles had caught me off guard in the best way! The way they talked about their different family issues, the way they talked of betrayal from friends, and being left alone, hit way harder than I was prepared for. Especially that talk they had at the burger place in the middle of the night? Oof. Good talk right there.

Also, even though they took a "show don't tell" take with it, I loved how Knuckles relaxed more and more throughout the show. In the beginning, he couldn't rest, he couldn't sit back and have a genuine good time. But the more he hung out with Wade and his family, the more he learned. He learned about music and found "his jam" (that was literally amazing btw). He watched movies with Mrs. Whipple and ate snacks in the hotel room in Reno and watched more movies. He had his teenager moments of rolling his eyes and rebelling, but he was so well portrayed here, I loved it. I felt for him.

Despite the bizarre nature of the episode "Flames of Disaster," (we were cracking up so hard) I'm trying to glean bits of the truth of Knuckles's story from the crazy musical play that Pachacamac put on in Wade's dream. I mean, "Longclaw" and her tribe were there, and ... what the heck was that giant demon thing?! Iblis?! Does our Knuckles Wachowski have an actual history with freaking Iblis?!?! 😱🔥

I was deeply intrigued by the two main antagonists, especially at the implication that G.U.N. did seem to exist before the events of the first movie?! Did it exist, get disbanded after the Maria incident, then get reformed?! My brain is exploding. 🤯 I was even more shocked that they apparently died? I guess I shouldn't be surprised, the Wachowski kids don't seem to have much qualms about getting rid of the baddies for good as the game versions do. That was a terrifying phenomenon, what happened with the two rings. 🫣

And then the Buyer getting crushed by the giant glass ball 👀

Although in those last two episodes, I admit I was freaking out and legitimately near tears at Wade's seemingly having to "betray" Knuckles. Before the reveal that all was in good communication, all I could think was how relaxed Knuckles finally seemed, chilling in the hotel room, being excited about whatever Wade wanted to "show" him, questioning whether it was a song, him declaring that he was going to bring his favorite hat, 🥹 all I could think was of their previous discussions about betrayal from friends and family, and when Knuckles called Wade "my friend" right before the elevator doors closed, I just about sobbed. I was like "please, don't let him be betrayed, don't let him have come all this way and relaxed so much only to get 'betrayed' once again by someone he's come to consider a friend." 😭 We heaved a HUGE sigh of relief when it revealed he was aware of the trap the whole time. 😪

Maternal instincts went nuts when he got so badly hurt in that final battle 😭 I literally reached for the screen several times and was right back to almost weeping 🥲 And someone tell me I wasn't the only one noticing the parallel in that scene with Wade standing in front of his unconscious body the way Tom did with Sonic in the first movie. That, PLUS Knuckles's epic comeback, and his retrieval of his own power?!?! EPIC!!!!

The ending was abrupt, sure, but the pure joy on Knuckles's face after everything as he jumped up to high five Wade was just too sweet. 🥹

So yes, even though I would have loved just a little more, a return to Green Hills, a reunion with Maddie, Sonic, and Tails, I adored this show. It was a wild ride, full of laughs, tears, excited screeching, etc. 💙💛❤️ I don't care what anyone says, nothing will make me hate it.

#sonic the hedgehog #sonic #knuckles series #knuckles series spoilers #spoilers #knuckles #knuckles show #knuckles wachowski #sonic wachowski #tails wachowski #maddie wachowski #the buyer #review #positivity #positive review #IT WAS SO MUCH FREAKING FUN #sonic cinematic universe #scu #wade whipple #no hate to wade you hear me #none #any hate replies or anything will be deleted #this is a positivity zone #i am here to have fun not complain #i will have all the fun and no one can stop me #sth

[hellsite-hall-of-fame]

Morbius (2022)

\[♪♪♪\]

\[WIND WHISTLING\]

\[BIRDS CHIRPING\]

\[THUNDER RUMBLING IN DISTANCE\]

\[WATER DRIPS ECHOING\]

\[BATS SKITTERING\]

\[HELICOPTER WHIRRING\]

\[MEN YELLING INDISTINCTLY IN SPANISH\]

We shouldn’t be here when it gets dark.

Set the trap at the mouth of the cave, please.

\[MEN SPEAKING IN SPANISH\]

\[WINCES\]

PILOT: You need a doctor?

\[CHUCKLES SOFTLY\]

I am a doctor.

It’s impressive, don’t you think?

Vampire bats weigh almost nothing, but they can down a creature nearly ten times their size.

\[FLIES BUZZING\]

Wow.

What are you using as bait?

You volunteering?

Leaving.

\[TRAP CLANKS\]

Pay me now.

Before the sun goes down.

You throw in that bushcrafter on your belt and we have a deal.

\[♪♪♪\]

\[GROANS SOFTLY\]

\[ALL CHITTERING\]

\[SCREECHES\]

\[BATS SCREECHING\]

\[SHOUTS IN SPANISH\]

\[YELLING IN SPANISH\]

Come on.

\[BELL TOLLING\]

\[STUDENTS LAUGHING, CHATTERING\]

Move!

\[TICKING\]

\[CAR HORN HONKS\]

NICHOLAS: Should be able to take better care of you here.

\[CAR DOOR CLOSES, CAR DRIVES AWAY\]

Everyone’s here to help you.

Michael, this is Lucian. Lucian, Michael.

Michael knows more about this place than I do.

\[WHISPERS\] Play nice.

LUCIAN: Hello.

Hello, Milo.

My name’s Lucian.

The person who was here before was Milo.

No.

He was also the new Milo.

And before him was the other new Milo.

I don’t even remember the first Milo.

How long have you been here?

Long as I can remember.

\[MACHINE BEEPS AND WHIRS\]

And you’re still not cured?

There is no cure.

There’s something missing from our DNA.

Like a piece of a puzzle.

And until they find it, the only way to stay alive is an oil change three times a day.

What would you do if you could be normal?

Just for an hour?

I don’t think about it.

Hey, look at the freaks! Look at them!

\[STUDENTS CHATTERING, LAUGHING\]

Best not to be outside when school gets out.

Like the original Spartans, we are the few against the many.

\[BEEPING\]

Milo?

Milo?

\[ALERT BUZZING\]

Nurse?

\[♪♪♪\]

\[WHISPERS\] Okay…

\[BEEPS AND WHIRS\]

Lucian.

Lucian!

With one of these?

It took a team of scientists to build that machine and you fixed it with a ballpoint pen?

There’s a school for gifted children in New York.

I think that I could get them to agree to cover your tuition and provide private care to help manage your condition.

Somewhere you could study, learn, hone your skills.

You have a gift, Michael.

I don’t think I could forgive myself if I saw it go to waste.

MICHAEL: “Dear Milo, this isn’t goodbye. I’m gonna find a cure for us, so we can be cranky old men someday. Your friend, Michael.

P.S. You shouldn’t have unfolded this. Now you’ll never get it back together. See you this summer.”

No.

\[STUDENTS CHATTERING\]

“Dear Milo…”

\[ALL LAUGH\]

Please, can I have my letter back?

What?

Please, can I have my letter?

Okay. Here.

\[LAUGHS\]

Please. Ah!

\[SHOUTS\] Please!

\[BOYS LAUGHING\]

Please!

\[YELLS\]

Stop.

\[GROANING\]

\[BOYS GRUNTING\]

\[NICHOLAS YELLS IN SPANISH\]

Go away!

\[SIREN WAILS IN DISTANCE\]

Let me have a look. Let me have a look.

\[SCREAMS\]

He tried to steal my letter!

Milo, Milo, stop.

Stop. Stop. Stop.

\[CRYING\]

What about Milo?

I’ll look after Milo.

He needs me.

NICHOLAS: Michael Morbius completed his doctorate by 19 and quickly established himself as the world’s leading authority on blood-borne diseases.

His development of artificial blood has saved more lives than penicillin.

Michael Morbius, please step forward to acknowledge the receipt of your prize from His Majesty, the King of Sweden.

\[AUDIENCE APPLAUDING\]

\[TRUMPETERS PLAY FANFARE\]

ANNA: I can’t believe you dissed the king of Sweden.

The king and the queen, their loyal subjects, all of Scandinavia and the entire scientific community.

Yeah, but who does that?

Well, Anna, we both know I have issues.

But, hey, I kept the program.

\[TONE SOUNDS, THEN WOMAN SPEAKS INDISTINCTLY OVER PA\]

\[KNOCKS\] There you are.

Hey, Dr. Bancroft.

Hey, Anna.

We going to play?

Oh, I don’t think so.

See, now that Dr. Morbius is back, maybe you should try losing for a while, see how that feels.

MICHAEL: Not gonna happen.

Michael.

Uh, yes?

You got a minute?

Of course.

New one. For your collection.

\[WHISPERS\] Dr. Morbius is in trouble.

I’m in trouble.

MARTINE: “I can’t accept a prize for the by-product of a failed experiment.”

Lab 1.

Front page, “American Scientist Rejects Nobel Prize.”

You know that people actually like writing checks to Nobel laureates?

Makes them feel better about their investment.

It would help if you stuck around long enough to cash them.

\[GROANS\]

You’re pushing yourself too hard.

\[SIGHS\]

Does our generous benefactor, Milo, know what you’re actually doing here?

What am I actually doing here?

Remixing human DNA with bat DNA.

I have no idea what you’re…

Talking about?

Is anything ringing a bell?

No bells ringing. Uh…

Okay. Maybe this will jog your memory.

MICHAEL: I wouldn’t go in there if I were you.

\[BATS SCREECHING\]

That is a…

It’s a fish tank.

Hmm.

Like, for… flying mammals.

Oh, I see.

Some friends I brought back from Costa Rica.

So when were you gonna tell me?

More importantly, how did you get my pass code?

It’s the first six digits of pi backwards.

It’s your password for everything.

You should change that.

You could lose your license for this.

I’m not gonna need it much longer, doctor.

You, on the other hand, will.

You know, there’s something called “plausible deniability.”

You should be thanking me.

These are the only mammals on Earth that have evolved to feed exclusively on blood.

So in order to drink it, these bats produce saliva that contains unique anticoagulants.

So your theory is, if you can successfully splice vampire genes into your DNA, it would allow your body to produce those same anticoagulants.

MICHAEL: Yes.

It would be a cure.

At what cost?

The fusion of different species is a legacy we already carry in our bodies.

Viruses insinuating their nucleic acid onto our own over hundreds of thousands of years.

That’s evolution. This is different.

I don’t think it is.

We have to push the boundaries, take the risks.

Without that, there is no science.

No medicine.

No breakthroughs at all.

\[MACHINE BEEPING\]

\[CHIMES, THEN BEEPING SOFTLY\]

Okay.

\[RECORDER BEEPS\]

Test subject for cell combination 117.

\[MOUSE SQUEAKING\]

\[BEEPS\]

Come on, come on, come on.

\[SQUEALING\]

\[RECORDER BEEPS\]

\[SIGHS\] Test subject 117 has resulted in…

failure.

\[RECORDER BEEPS\]

I don’t wanna see you get hurt.

I should’ve died years ago, Martine.

Why am I still alive if not to fix this?

To save my best friend, Milo.

And everyone else like us.

Not like this.

Dr. Morbius, it’s Anna.

\[♪♪♪\]

\[MONITORS BEEPING RAPIDLY\]

\[PANTING\]

Her temperature’s spiking, and her kidneys are shutting down.

We have to induce a coma before she has a stroke.

A hundred milligrams of propofol.

NURSE: Sure.

MARTINE: Now.

Come on.

MICHAEL: It’s okay.

It’s okay. We got you.

There you go.

There you go.

Thank you, nurse.

We’re gonna let you sleep a bit.

Take a nice long nap.

\[MONITOR BEEPING STEADILY\]

\[SQUEAKING\]

Michael.

What?

It worked.

\[♪♪♪\]

\[CLOCK CHIMES\]

Dr. Michael Morbius.

\[IN NORWEGIAN\] Some crippled guy’s here to see the Boss.

MILO: Michael! Get over here!

\[IN NORWEGIAN\] As long as I am a cripple you’ll be fine.

♪ Stop dreaming Of the quiet life… ♪

You’re late. I was trying out this new thing called “working.”

Oh, yeah. I don’t believe I’m familiar with the word.

I don’t believe you are.

So, what’s up with the goon squad?

Oh, I won a hand of cards against some Russian gentlemen.

Apparently they found his luck improbable.

There you are.

More like impossible.

So, doctor, how is our favorite patient?

Still determined to make his short life even shorter?

Yes, I am. Anyway, you’re one to talk.

You look terrible. Look at the state of you.

Says the man wearing… What is that, a quilt?

Oh, sorry. I didn’t get the memo to dress for a funeral.

\[LAUGHS\]

\[CHUCKLES\]

Right. I will see you later.

And you… my door is always open.

We miss you at Horizon.

We could use your mind.

I’ll leave you two to your fun.

Bye, Nicholas.

I have some good news.

Let’s go for a walk.

How’s Martine doing these days?

Dr. Bancroft? She is, uh, overqualified, outperforming, brilliant as usual.

And a royal pain in my ass.

But she’s keeping me honest for the most part. Why do you ask?

Eh, no reason. Just haven’t seen you in forever.

I wondered if she had something to do with it.

Aw, I miss you too.

But, yes, she has been working with me to save our lives.

I could ask her to stop if you like, put us out of our misery.

Just don’t do something stupid and go and fall in love because, believe you me, there is absolutely no cure for that.

Says the guy who knows absolutely nothing about the subject.

Not true.

I read about it in books all the time.

Books, really? Wow.

Yeah.

Or romantic comedies. The point is…

The point is, love is not on the cards for us, my friend.

Listen, if you start quoting The Notebook to me, I am going to stop and hobble very slowly in the opposite direction.

\[LAUGHS\]

Throw it!

MICHAEL: I’m close, Milo.

I can feel it.

A cure.

It’s finally possible.

Seriously?

Highly experimental.

Ethically questionable.

Very, very, very expensive.

I knew that was coming.

And not exactly legal.

Oh, and it has to be done in international waters.

\[LAUGHS\]

You were always expensive.

Is it dangerous? Should I be worried?

You want me to lie to you?

That would be nice, yes.

It’s a walk in the park on a sunny day.

Oh, yeah, that bad, eh?

Listen.

We don’t have much time left.

This could be our last chance.

So, what do you say?

We go out with a fight?

\[SIGHS\]

Yeah.

You with me?

Till the day you die, brother.

Till the day you die. You’ll have everything you need.

We’re the original Spartans, mate.

The few against the many.

Yeah.

\[♪♪♪\]

\[INDISTINCT CHATTER OVER RADIO\]

You know, I’m sure you’re cheating.

No. No, you’re not.

What you got?

MICHAEL: Putting another one in the oven.

Wish me luck.

\[CHIMING\]

The moment of truth.

\[CHIMES AND BEEPS\]

Success, Martine. We did it.

It’s holding together.

\[RECORDER BEEPS\]

Test 243.

\[INHALES DEEPLY\]

Human trials.

\[RECORDER BEEPS\]

\[EXHALES SHARPLY\]

I’m glad it’s you.

Had a lot of other suitors, didn’t you?

Yeah.

You know, the whole near-death thing is very, very chic.

I read it in Cosmo.

\[LAUGHS\]

Do they still make Cosmo? I don’t know.

I know it’s just what you always wanted.

Could be a collector’s item one day, you never know.

This better not be my last one.

I know this is painful, but you got it.

\[GROANS SOFTLY\]

That’s it. Bingo.

Right there.

\[SHUSHES\]

\[GROANS\]

Almost there, almost there.

\[EXHALES SHARPLY\]

\[SHUSHES\]

It’s all right. Come on. Come on.

There you go.

\[GROANS SOFTLY\]

You can buckle me up.

Yeah.

Yeah.

You all right? Great.

\[♪♪♪\]

\[ELECTRICITY CRACKLES\]

I call.

Bringing out the big guns.

Let’s go again.

I’ll be back. I’m gonna check on the doctor.

All right.

\[MONITOR BEEPING\]

\[DOOR CLANGS OPEN\]

You shouldn’t be down here.

I can be wherever I want, nurse.

It’s “doctor,” actually.

\[SNICKERS\]

I’m afraid you’re gonna have to leave.

Doctor. Sure, I can see it.

But, uh, you’re still the help, just like me.

Wow.

You can tell all that by just looking at me, huh?

Here I thought you were just another jacked-up dumb shit.

\[LAUGHS\]

Get out.

\[ALERT BLARING\]

Michael?

\[GUN COCKS\]

\[METAL CLANKS\]

Michael?

Where is he?

\[METAL CLANKS\]

Don’t move.

\[ROARS\]

What the hell?

Everybody down to the lab now.

\[WALKIE BEEPS\]

Roger that.

\[GRUNTS\]

Don’t shoot!

\[ALARM BLARING\]

Michael!

\[FOX GROANING\]

Stop!

\[GROWLS\]

Michael.

\[GROWLS\]

It’s just me.

\[ALARM BLARING\]

It’s just me.

\[POUNDS ON GLASS\]

Michael, please.

Michael, stop!

Stop! Please!

You’re hurting yourself! Stop!

Hey! Step back! Move!

Stop. Put that gun down…

Move!

\[GROWLING\]

\[GROANS\]

\[SCREAMS\]

\[YELLS\]

Shit. Close it! Close it!

What the hell is that thing?

\[♪♪♪\]

\[ROARS\]

Fall back! Fall back!

Shit.

MAN 1: Let’s move.

MAN 2: Go, go, go!

\[GROANS\]

Johnny!

\[GRUNTING\]

\[SCREAMS\]

\[MORBIUS GROWLS\]

Get out of here!

MAN \[OVER RADIO\]: Sweeping Level 3.

Jason, come in.

Jason. Jason?

\[SCREAMS\]

Oh, shit.

Son of a bitch!

\[GROANS\]

Shit! Oh!

Oh, shit!

\[HIGH-PITCHED SCRAPING\]

\[GROANS\]

\[GAGGING\]

\[MORBIUS GROWLS\]

\[PANTING\]

\[SCREAMS\]

\[ROARS\]

\[GASPS\]

\[♪♪♪\]

\[BREATHING HEAVILY\]

Martine.

Martine.

\[HEART BEATING STEADILY\]

\[WHISPERS\] Oh, my God.

\[VOMITS\]

\[GROANS\]

\[BREATHING HEAVILY\]

\[FEEDBACK OVER RADIO\]

Mayday, mayday, mayday.

This is the LCV Murnau.

Call letters 3-X5Y.

We are 13 nautical miles off the coast of Long Island.

Request immediate airlift.

Repeat, this is the LCV Murnau.

Mayday, mayday, mayday.

\[♪♪♪\]

It’s up here to the right.

\[PEOPLE CHATTERING INDISTINCTLY\]

FBI Agent Stroud. Can we have the room, please?

RODRIGUEZ: You heard the man. Can we please have the room?

If you could start exiting, that’d be fantastic.

Well, we haven’t had anything this good since that thing in San Francisco.

Uh, eight bodies, running IDs right now, but apparently they all shop at the same mercenary supply store.

Uh, one survivor, a Dr. Martine Bancroft.

Can we talk to her?

If she wakes up.

Uh, she fell down and hit her head, apparently.

Anything else?

Someone made a mayday call.

Not Dr. Bancroft.

Nope.

It was a male, didn’t identify himself, then wiped all the surveillance footage.

SIMON: He grew a conscience and jumped overboard?

It happens. Oh, and get this.

All the bodies that you’re looking at are nearly drained of their blood.

So, what hunts at night and drinks human blood?

You’re gonna love this.

REPORTER: Early this morning an unmanned cargo ship was discovered near the eastern tip of Long Island with multiple bodies on board.

Authorities are not making any comment at this time.

But there are reports of one survivor, and we have learned from a high-ranking Coast Guard official that the vessel was flying a Panamanian flag when it drifted in from international…

What’s happened?

Some kind of accident.

How’s your pain today? On a one to ten?

Eleven.

\[TONE SOUNDS, THEN MAN SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY OVER PA\]

\[MONITOR BEEPING STEADILY AND VENTILATOR HISSING\]

\[TONE SOUNDS, THEN MAN SPEAKING INDISTINCTLY OVER PA\]

\[WHISPERS\] I’m sorry.

You’re going to be okay.

\[♪♪♪\]

here you all go!! also I did have to read though this whole thing to make sure it wasn’t anything bad because I actually didn’t know what Morbius was lmao and idk if this is even the whole script (also i’m so incredibly sorry to everyone…. including myself, bc my phone is glitching so badly trying to post this)

#the hellsite answers #morbius #morbius script #anonymous #ask #long post #very long post #extremely fucking long post #i’m so so sorry #hellsite hall of fame curator’s bullshit

[clockwork-ashes]

All You Have Is Your Fire - Part I

Find more writing here :)

Summary: 'I can hear your heart beating through the stone.' For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop.

Note: A huge, huge thank you to the lovely @bettdraws who literally deserves all the credit and whose post inspired me to start writing this. I could not stop thinking about this head canon, and it was so kind of you to let me try and make a story from it :)

Part II >>

Lucien tugged at the iron chains around his wrists, the unforgiving metal biting into his skin. He knew there was no chance of escaping, that his fate now rested in the hands of others, but Lucien had hoped one of the links would break and he could take some of the pressure off his shoulders. 

“Fuck,” Lucien mumbled, blood still wet on his lips. He ran his tongue over his teeth to check if they were all there. “Fucking hells.” 

With one last useless pull on his restraints, Lucien gave up on breaking free from his shackles. He decided to take a better look around the small cell he had been thrown into, but even with his golden eye, he had to squint into the darkness. 

Stone walls spelled against magic of any type closed Lucien off from the rest of the world. He could feel damp, cool air against his skin, the type that came from being deep within the earth. He was quite sure his nose had been broken, but he took a shuddering breath. Mingled with the copper scent of his own blood, Lucien could smell dying leaves. 

Home. 

The thought came to him unbidden, thunderous in the silence. Others in Prythian thought that Autumn was rotting, cruel in its beauty, always just on the verge of death. Lucien had always found comfort in the constant state of the court he had been raised in. He had not considered Autumn his home for centuries, and Lucien rushed to shake the idea from his mind. 

He stumbled to the cell’s door, leaning onto the aged wood with all his weight. There was a small circle carved into it, a sorry excuse for a window, Lucien thought. When he pressed his forehead against the opening, and angled his head just right, Lucien could make out an endless hallway. He could see no guards, could hear nothing but the steady beat of his own heart. 

Lucien had been hopeful before, but the chance of him making it out of Autumn alive was starting to look more and more unlikely with each passing moment. Golden eye whirring, he searched for a crack in the wards. 

Lucien felt dread, ice cold, crawling up his spine. No one would come for him, he thought, the panic gripping him like a vice. He would be left entirely at his father’s mercy, alone and forgotten. 

Voice low, Lucien cursed Beron Vanserra for being terrible, and he cursed his brothers for being even worse. He added Rhysand’s name as well, angry for having sent him to handle the issue at Spring’s border. Lucien hissed one last bitter curse before he kicked the door in frustration. 

The action sent a jolt of pain up his entire leg, but being able to release some of that pent up rage managed to make Lucien feel just a bit better. He kicked the door once again with added force, wholly out of character for one of Prythian’s best emissaries. 

When the door shuddered, the ancient hinges screeching as if in protest, Lucien wondered if he had perhaps shattered the ward. As the door slowly opened, though, dim firelight falling through the widening space, Lucien moved faerie-quick to press his back against the rough stone behind him.  

It was a lesson the youngest of children were taught in Autumn, how easy it was for jewelled daggers to meet their mark. It was easier to fight, and to protect yourself, if you only had to worry about what was in front of you. It was a lesson so well ingrained in Lucien’s mind that it had become instinct. 

As the door opened entirely, and a tall figure stepped into the stone arch of the cell, Lucien remembered who had been the one to teach him that lesson in the first place. 

Eris Vanserra, Beron’s most trusted son and the heir to his throne. No one could deny Eris looked like a prince, all Autumn, even without a golden crown set on his blood-red hair. 

Lucien looked from his brother’s leather boots, to his brown pants, to the white shirt laced to Eris’s throat. He couldn’t see a weapon, no dagger hilt warning others that Eris was armed. 

Amber eyes fell on Lucien, lip curling in disgust. He looked disappointed, Lucien thought, before he realised that Eris was within the walls of the cell. 

Mind racing, Lucien glanced past his brother and into the hallway. Perhaps—

“Don’t even think about it,” Eris snapped, the words like a whip’s lash. 

“Fuck off,” Lucien snarled, angry that so much time had passed and yet Eris could still read him like an open book. Lucien looked more closely at Autumn’s heir, but he couldn’t guess just from the expression on his brother's face whether he had come to help, or to do their father’s bidding. 

“Were you always so crude with your words,” Eris raised an eyebrow in question, “or is this the Night Court’s influence?” 

Lucien bowed slightly at the waist, the gesture awkward with his hands still shackled behind him, mocking. “You have my sincerest apologies.” Lucien wanted to strangle Eris, and he hoped the tone of his voice conveyed the feeling well. 

When Eris tilted his head, looking more wolf than faerie, the small golden hoops going up the arch of his ear glimmered in the light from the torches. “Father is not very pleased with you.” 

Lucien made a point to look around the small space he was in. “Thank you for telling me, he hadn’t made his displeasure obvious.” His golden eye clicked into place as he faced Eris. “Is that all?” 

“He wants you dead,” Eris said, voice clipped, but certain. Lucien could see no mercy in that flaming gaze, no care. 

Lucien nodded, unseeing. He had known, from the moment he had been brought to Autumn, that his death would be the likeliest outcome. He was too busy thinking, mind preoccupied with the image of brown eyes, the rich colour of a fawn’s coat. 

I can hear your heart beating through the stone. 

For the briefest of moments, Lucien wondered if his mate would know exactly when his heart’s steady rhythm came to a sudden stop. 

The thought troubled him enough that he turned his attention back to Eris, glaring. “Come to gloat?” 

Eris shrugged, the movement elegant in a way only the best of courtier’s were capable of. “Only partially.” His lips turned down at the corners, the smallest of frowns, before he continued. “If it were up to me, I’d leave you here to rot with the rest of the prisoners. Truly, I could care less about what father decides to do to you.” 

“How kind,” Lucien mumbled, not entirely believing his brother’s words, but not exactly sure where the Autumn heir actually stood on the matter. Once, Lucien had believed Eris cared, but that seemed like a lifetime ago. 

Eris ignored Lucien’s remark all together. “Mother, though,” he continued, “she’s worried about your well being.” 

“Then tell her everything is fine.” Lucien knew the Lady of Autumn had enough to worry about. 

“That would be a lie,” Eris snapped. “Father is one bad mood away from ripping you apart and sending your severed head to Rhysand as a gift.” The words were a hiss, barely a whisper. 

Lucien breathed in sharply. “Eris–” He hadn’t known what he was going to say, but Eris raised a beringed hand, demanding silence. 

“You’re very lucky, Lucien, that I have some spare time in my very busy schedule to do as our mother has asked and find a way to return you to the Night Court.” 

Lucien could imagine his mother, tears in her russett eyes so similar to his own, as she fell to her knees at Eris’s feet, begging for help. He wondered if Eris had spoken to her kindly. 

“All out of the goodness of your heart?” Lucien questioned. He had meant for it to be angry, but instead he sounded exhausted. 

“What heart?” 

Lucien very nearly rolled his eyes. Only in the Autumn Court could people be so dramatic. “You’ll come back for me, then?” He would try to keep his expectations of Eris low. Lucien had learned from the last time he had found himself in a similar situation that hoping for help from his eldest brother was pointless. Then, he had considered it a betrayal, now he knew better, it was simply in Eris’s nature to do things that only ever benefited him. 

Eris smiled, the expression making it seem like he was baring his teeth. The dim firelight was casting long shadows on Eris’s face, the slash of his cheekbones looked glass sharp. “Give me a day or two, little brother.” Lucien flinched at the last two words, more cruel than anything else Eris had said to him since his arrival. If Eris noticed, he chose not to acknowledge it. “If your heart is still beating, I’ll find a way to return you to your High Lady.” 

Eris had a rare gift in his ability to make anything sound like an insult, Lucien thought. Still leaning against the rough wall for support, Lucien nodded in agreement. He knew better than to trust his brother’s word, but for the first time since he’d been tossed into the dungeons, he felt a small spark of hope. 

Eris took a step back, away from the arch in the stone, and Lucien was plunged once more into darkness. He winnowed without a word, the torches going out as he disappeared, and leaving nothing but a few dying embers in his wake. 

The heavy oak door slammed shut, locks falling into place, and Lucien was once again alone.

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #lucien vanserra #eris vanserra #autumn court #elucien #elain archeron x lucien vanserra #elain is not in this part but she will be in the next one #ashes writes sometimes #all you have is your fire

[phoxey]

Decide.

This is part 2, for part 1 click here

Lusher x Bebe!reader

CW: still angst, alcohol, breakdown, mental health issues

AN: I promise this has a good ending. trust me.

Her eyes filled with tears.

She didn’t answer and you watched tears rolling down her face before you sighed.

“I see.”, you whispered but Seoyoung looked at you as though you had slapped her.

Without another word you left the room, the building and Seoyoung.

With every step you took, your heart broke into more and more pieces. It physically hurt you, but you kept walking. A part of you wished that Seoyoung would run after you and try to get you back, but you knew she wouldn’t, she had made her decision. And you had made yours.

You wandered restlessly through the night for what seemed like twenty minutes but were actually hours. At some point you sat down on the side of the road, no care to be seen. Slowly you got out your phone.

23 missed calls. 8 by Bada, 5 by Tatter, 4 by Minah, 3 by Cheche, 2 by Kyma, 1 by Soweon.

Seoyoung didn’t call you once.

Your messages were going crazy as well.

Bada:

What happened? Seoyoung is crying! Come back! She told me what happened. Come back please. We can figure this out. Pick up your phone! Please

Taeyoung:

Pick up pick up pick up Please Please Where are you? We are worried! Come back, we can talk about it! I promise, everything will be alright!

You huffed. As if. Nothing would be alright. Seoyoung and you would have no future together, not if she was ashamed of being your girlfriend. You know it was fanservice and it didn’t mean anything, but you couldn’t stand seeing her flirt with the same people who cursed you out.

You stood up and wandered around some more. The streets were almost empty. The sky was clear, and you could see many stars. Seoyoung would be talking about the star constellations now if she were with you. Or show you a star and tell you that it was your star. She was cheesy like that. But you couldn’t help but notice how the stars didn’t shine as bright this night and the moon seemed smaller than usual. It seemed like the night sky was sad. Reflecting your own feelings.

Before a tear could roll down your cheek, your phone interrupted you. It was Seoyoung’s mom.

“Hello?”, you asked timidly as you picked up.

“Thank God! What is happening? Seoyoungi sent us a cryptic message, but we can’t reach her!”

“I…I think we broke up.”, you said, your voice cracking.

“What why?”

“Long story… What was the message?”, you asked worriedly.

“Look, I really don’t know what happened between you two, but she wrote that her life doesn’t make any sense anymore, and that she wished she wouldn’t exist. That you would be happier without her.”

“What?!”, you practically screeched.

“Do you know where she could be? I am scared, she will hurt herself.”, Seoyoung’s mom sobbed.

“I think I know. I will talk to her. Don’t worry.”, you said hastily and ended the call.

You practically sprinted to the apartment that you and Seoyoung shared.

When you came in all the lights were off, but you could hear sobbing from the living room. Carefully you turned on one of the dimmer lights. Seoyoung sat in front of the couch, slumped over, her entire body trembling with sobs. Tears shot into your eyes. Then you noticed the many empty soju bottles around her.

“Oh God…”, you whispered and were immediately next to her, a hand on her back.

She looked up confused. Her face was swollen and her eyes wet and red. Her pupils were large and unfocused. You couldn’t resist and leaned in to kiss her forehead, as you always did when she was crying.

A sharp pain shot through your face when she slapped you before your lips could reach her forehead.

“I have a girlfriend!”, she said angrily.

“W-What?”, you stuttered confused and held your cheek.

“Oh right… not anymore… she hates me.”, she slurred.

Only then you realized that Seoyoung was probably too drunk to even recognize you.

“She doesn’t hate you.”, you said gently, wanting to calm her.

She shook her head. “She does. I hurt her.”

“Seoyoung… nae nabi…”, you sighed.

“That’s what she always called me.”, Seoyoung sobbed. “And I’m so stupid and hurt her. I didn’t want to… I swear… I only wanted to protect her…”

“Protect from what?”, you asked confused.

“M-My girlfriend… she had suffered too much already…”, she hiccupped. “She wants to go public, but I’m scared that… it will hurt her only more…”

“What do you mean?”

“Her parents said cruel things because she loved me… If the public found out… she would live through that again. I don’t want her to be subject to that again… I love her so much…”

Tears started rolling down her cheeks. “I’m sure she would live through all of that again happily if that meant she could kiss and hug you for the world to see.”, you whispered.

“Do you think?”, Seoyoung asked. Her hands started to frantically search for something. “I… I should call her… Apologize… maybe I should post on Instagram… about us.”

You took her hands gently. “Talk to her tomorrow, she is probably asleep right now. And you should too.”

“Yeah… I don’t want to wake her. She is so pretty when she sleeps, y’know? She will tell you no, but I like to wake up next to her and she is still sleeping… So peaceful…”

“You can tell her tomorrow, okay? She would want you to sleep now.”, you said and pulled her up.

Seoyoung wasn’t able to keep standing, but before she could fall you had already scooped her up into your arms. Gently you carried her to your shared bedroom and put her on her side of the bed, but she immediately rolled over to your side.

“This side smells like her… I miss her…”, she mumbled into your pillow.

You couldn’t help but smile fondly. You tucked her in, wrapping your blanket around her. Then you laid down next to her, watching as she drifted off to sleep. You thought, she was right. A gay relationship would hurt Bebe in the competition. You would tell her that it’s fine to come out after SWF was over. That you would delete your social media until then.

You quickly sent Seoyoung’s mother a text, that her daughter is safe and fine, before you covered yourself in Seoyoung’s blanket and falling asleep as well.

You woke up to a hand on your cheek and half opened eyes gazing at you.

“I must be dreaming still.”, she whispered.

You turned your head to kiss her wrist. Then you smiled softly at her.

“You’re not. I’m here.”

“Listen, I-…”, you broke her off with a finger on her lips.

“It’s okay.”

“But-…”

You shook your head. “No. Don’t.”

She closed her mouth then and proceeded to caress your cheek, lost in thought.

“Penny for your thoughts?”, you asked.

“You know… I’d always choose you.”

#swf #swf2 #swf2 x reader #team bebe #lusher x reader #lusher

[notroosterbradshaw]

42. "Touch me again, and I'm pushing you off the bed." With Rooster pleasee (to be honest.. would it be actually a problem?)😂

A/N: this is a bit of a dumpster fire. Every save has failed, so here you have it. I hope you enjoy it. okay, pal, I am going to raise you two tropes:

42. "Touch me again, and I'm pushing you off the bed."

There was only one bed and

Enemies to... something. Not lovers, but something.

"Because of you... let me rattle this off because this is entirely your fault and I don’t want to miss anything, okay? Because of you, we; one - left late. Nearly two hours to remind you. Two - got the last bedroom. With one goddamn bed!”

Rooster Bradley was wild. And not in that cute, gee, he looks like a fun, cool guy way, but close to a rage blackout. Like he was so ticked off, the ridges of his ears were blushing pink as the rage seared from his strong, broad chest towards his thick neck, adrenaline coursing through his veins. His hands flexed as he tried to control his emotions that were just so out of check. No breathing techniques could save him now.

“I am not staying in here with you,” he seethed. You, on the other hand? Music to your ears! The trip to Tahoe was pure frigging torture, and you were still not sure how you were so unlucky to have to make the ten-hour drive with one of the people you actually despised and you both made it out alive.

The daily issue you had with each other in the air too.

"No sweat," you grinned, thrilled with this development. “Enjoy sleeping anywhere but here, pal,” you pat his muscular pecs and took a step into the room before slammed the door in his face joyously.

Later that night at the dinner table, you could feel Rooster burning a hole into the side of your head, still roasting from your earlier disagreement. Disagreements? Yeah, definitely plural. Not stopping your conversation with Bob, you relinquished your glass of red and said, “Hey Rooster, here’s another bird for you,” you gave him the one-finger salute. "Get over yourself."

The table was silent. You could hear a pin drop.

“More wine please, Mickey?” you asked, utterly refusing to give Rooster Bradshaw another moment of your time. Last you’d heard, he’d committed to either sleeping in his ridiculous car or on the couch. Fine by you, the King size bed was just perfect for little you.

"God, you're so goddamn petulant, I don't know how you managed to get through the ranks... or killed yourself. It's one of the two if I'm really honest."

"Sheer talent, agility and knowing it pisses you off," you raffled off and turned to face him, planting your chin in your palm and batting your eyelashes in his direction. "Gives me all the ammo I need."

"You're such a fuckin' liability," he scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"Jesus, this escalated," Bob muttered to no one in particular.

"Shouldn't have let them drive together," Natasha sighed, putting her head in her hands.

"You know, Hangman, you are right," you said, ignoring your friends and looking at Jake as his eyes bulged.

"How am I getting dragged into this, sweet thing? I mean, I'm always right, but..." he asked, not really wanting to get in the middle of your and his wingman's quarrel. Especially since he was enjoying it so much. He preferred being a spectator in this bout.

"Like you told me on day one... Rooster's just sitting there on his perch and I do all the heavy lifting and saving his ass. Younger, faster, better - " you rattled off.

"Oh, you're so fuckin' outta line - " Rooster roared, standing as you grinned up at him.

"hey, hey, hey," Fanboy's chair screeched as he put a hand on Rooster's chest to remind him of his place.

"Tell me all about it, Bradshaw. Just get it out there and make your peace with the fact you don't like me and have gone out of your day since the beginning to try and stop each and every one of my promotions," you rested your chin in your hand and added a sweet bat of your lashes for good luck. You could see the smoke puff from his ears.

"I don't want to look but I can't look away," Coyote tried to bite back his grin but this had been bubbling under the surface for years. And he was going to witness it explode.

“This has to stop, guys,” Bob tried again.

"Peacemakin' ain't gonna work this time, Baby on Board. It's about time you let these two at it," Hangman sipped his beer but there was no denying that smirk that threatened.

“Look, I can swap with Rooster and bunk,” Natasha sighed, always the peacemaker. “I got a room to myself. You two cannot stay together tonight... or ever.”

A cause for a fight in itself, you dared ask, “How’d you keep that to yourself?”

She shrugged. “Frankly, just wanted to see how long it would be before one of you killed the other. It's clearly much closer than I thought,” she sipped her wine, whetting her lips. “I’ll stay with you," she tenderly pet your face, and felt the heat radiating under your skin. You were riotous and she could feel the fever of whatever it was that Rooster under your skin today. She gave you kudos, how you managed to stay to cool while Rooster erupted was commendable. But Natasha knew things about you the team didn't and that included what was hidden behind the ego.

“Think you can keep your hands to yourself?” you teased.

“I think I can hold it together,” she said as you both laughed.

“Just like the old days.”

You toasted each other.

“You’re off the hook, Bradshaw,” Natasha muttered, not bothering to look at him. “But we get the King.”

Rooster’s face lit up. “Phoenix, you’re on a one-way ticket to heaven.”

"I don't know why you guys just don't put up or front up," Hangman joined the party. "Could cut the sexual tension with a knife, if you ask me."

"No one asked you, Bagman," you and Rooster hissed loudly and Hangman actually shrunk in his chair. It didn't stop the smirks from the others at the table, trying to hide their mirth and Hangman knew... he wasn't on his own of this belief.

"I'm just sayin'," he tried as Coyote nodded beside him. Coyote wholeheartedly agreed. Put that sheer frustration with each other to good use: fly with it, fight with it, fuck with it. Two out of three ain't bad. But it could certainly be better.

"Knock it off, Jake..." Natasha told him. But she found it hard to argue with him. He was right, something had to give between you and for the sake of the team, a truce or ceasefire needed to be called somehow, someway. And it needed to be soon. She couldn't trust you to be on your best behaviour for Payback's wedding tomorrow and God knew she didn't want to have to send either of you to the naughty corner for not keeping your emotions in check with the other.

"And on that note," you pushed back your chair. "Goodnight," you said, standing and leaving before anyone could make an excuse to get you to stay.

"Jesus Christ Jake... could you just keep your trap closed this one time?" Mickey mumbled as you wandered away and you heard Jake laugh.

"Yep, it's just me that can't see right through them... ain't it, right Bradshaw?" Jake taunted his wingman. "Just put that frustration to use, brother."

"You know, Jake, you will never have to worry about me punching you in the fucking face, because I won't have to do it. They will," Rooster rolled his eyes and kept sipping his wine.

"You're gonna kill me," Natasha said a few hours later. "I think I had one glass of wine too many," she said, sitting on her bed, drifting a little. She was woozy, her tummy didn't feel great.

"You okay?" you sat up from your spot on the bed, watching her a little concerned. You grabbed her shoulder and tried to stop her from wobbling but she was pretty off-kilter.

"I don't feel so great," she admitted. "I think I'm a little nauseous."

"Oh, no. Can I get you something? Some water?" you started to get out of bed to help.

"No, I'm just going to freshen up in the en suite for a while. Cool water might help. A shower of something," she said, idly on her legs as she stumbled into the bathroom and closed the door after her. Settling back, you had never heard the sound of anyone being ill the way Natasha currently was.

"Oh, shit," you said, bouncing from the bed and going to the door to open it, but she'd locked it. "Natasha, can I come in?"

"No, don't come in here - " she said before interrupting herself to be sick again.

"Oh, wow," you said quietly to yourself. Okay, the helper in your kicked into gear, leaving Pheonix for the moment to go retrieve a bucket, some towels and anything else that might make her feel a bit better... or at least fend off the hangover for tomorrow.

Rooster was on the couch with Bob when they noticed you going through unfamiliar cupbarods.

"Whatcha need?" Bob asked.

"Your frontseater is vomiting all over a different kind of seat..." you muttered.

"Oh, no," Bob sighed. "Can I help you?"

"No, she's locked herself in the bathroom. She's pretty unwell," you continued searching. "Would anyone have packed any Pepto... or something to try and settle her stomach?"

Rooster groaned standing. "I've got a first aid kit in my car. Let me get it."

You bet if roles were reversed, and Natasha was looking for help for you, Rooster would not be volunteering and quietly thanked him anyway. He didn't bother to reply but came back a few minutes later with a small kit and told you to use whatever you need. "Thanks, Rooster," you said meekly. He nodded as he watched you disappear again.

This was not how the night was supposed to go. You were supposed to be up and gossiping with Natasha, not helping her shower her sick out of her hair and tossing her in your bed because she needed to be close to the room with the ensuite. Everyone had shuffled but it still left you in a pickle.

Well, not just you.

You and Rooster, who could swear he was seconds away from actually sleeping in his car. The threat was real.

“Just stay on your side for god’s sake,” you instructed, rolling to face the door.

“This may be the worst thing that has ever happened in the history of time,” Rooster muttered and you flipped back to him, aghast. “Aside from other stuff in my life that has been tragic…” he clarified, embarrassed.

“You’re a terrible person.”

“Just go to sleep,” he rolled his eyes and turned over himself. Within minutes he was snoring soundly. You picked up your pillow and without a doubt, lifted it over his face ready to just end this madness before thrusting it over your face instead and falling back against the bed.

He slept while you stared at the roof, finally giving in and putting your earphones in your ear to try and drone Rooster out. You were going to be a fright tomorrow. You knew you weren't going to sleep tonight.

Rooster was blissfully comfortable sleeping on his back but rolled just enough so that he was on your pillow and legs pressing against yours.

“You’re infuriating,” you tutted. “This bed is too small for both of us."

Sighing, Rooster was woken. "Jesus Christ, what time is it?"

"Dunno, you've been snoring for an hour or something."

“Well, if Phoenix wasn’t vomiting all over our old room with the ensuite, you would be in there together with all the space in the room and I’d be sleeping in here peacefully.”

“Touch me again and I’m pushing you off the bed.”

He snorted. “I’d surely like to see you try. Go to sleep, you fucking brat."

You heard the muttering before you could feel the tossing and turning. Rolling over and preparing yourself to let loose on him, you noticed Rooster was still asleep. He was restless, covered in sweat and the sheets tangled around him before he jolted up to sit, gasping. He took the dim room in, eyes darting around, trying to familiarise himself with his surroundings. “Where am I?” He asked desperately.

“We’re with the squad, it’s Payback’s wedding weekend in Tahoe,” you said softly.

"What?" you could sense that his brain didn't compute.

“You were having a bad dream, but you're okay. You’re safe. Try and breathe,” you instructed as his shoulders sagged and he tried to do what you asked. You explicitly knew this feeling and laid a gentle palm on his clammy shoulder. “Are you okay?” You asked softly. He stared at you, breathing deeply, putting his face in his hands. His PTSD was a good one, compounded by years of trauma.

You crawled a little closer to him and brushed back his wild curls.

“I’m sorry. Did I wake you?” he didn't answer your question, he could barely meet your eyes. Shame washed over him, the last person he wanted to show this part of himself to was right next to him.

“No,” you lied. “Do you need anything? Can I get you some water?”

Pursing his lips, embarrassed, he looked at the glass on his bedside table and reached to take a sip. "I got it."

It was strange, but the muscles on his strong back still engaged and you gently moved and hug him carefully. You felt him stiffen not soften and you told him softly, “You’re okay Rooster. You’re safe here with me.”

“Thanks, huh?” He said softly, sighing, and kind of melting a little, his body's flight or fight reducing as he inhaled sharply.

“You get those kinds of dreams often?” you dared ask. When didn't reply, you told him that you did once in a while but found it hard to go to people and tell them because you were sure no one would understand, hoping to encourage him.

He shrugged, resting his cheek on your shoulder, hiding his eyes. “Sometimes."

You held him tighter. “Does anyone know?”

“No… just you," he admitted and you knew he hated telling you and if you wanted to hold that power over him.

“Okay. I’m not going to preach to you, you know the drill.”

“Yeah, I do. Thank you.”

“I’m always here if you need me, okay?”

He hummed and you knew you were the absolute last person Rooster Bradshaw would come to if he found himself in this situation again. “Sorry I woke you.”

“That’s okay. I’m just glad you weren’t alone,” you gently pushed him back towards his pillows and shuffled over to snuggle up close.

“You’re a furnace,” he muttered.

“You should be so lucky. Am I too close?” You asked, wanting to protect him but also respect you were well and truly overstepping any boundaries you had before bedtime.

“It’s okay, it’s nice,” he admitted, rolling over and taking you with him, curling you into his back and you let out a surprised shriek as you moved with him. "Sorry... that okay?"

"Yeah," you told him. "That's okay," your small hand gripped his hip, drawing tender circles on the strong muscle. “Go back to sleep, we have a big day tomorrow.”

He yawned instinctively, and took your hand to lace with his fingers and draw your closer. “Yeah, it’ll be fun.”

You shuffled and released the arm you were laying on to drift up and down his back, the muscles and ridges tensing and relaxing to your touch and you'd swear, you heard him moan quietly. “Go to sleep,” you told him again, softly. “I’m right here, I won’t let anything happen to you, Bradshaw.”

Within a few minutes, you felt his breath change and he was asleep again deeply… but you couldn’t release your hand… and you didn’t want to either. Enjoying the peace his slumber brought and his gentle even breathing, it lulled you to sleep too.

Waking up the next morning, you found yourself still trapped against the warm body of Rooster, but this time he was facing you and it was his chest before you. His strong golden shoulders, muscular pegs, wide ribs, and incredible abs. Sure you weren't still asleep?

But he was awake, looking at you softly with his chin resting in his palm. “Good morning,” he said quietly. You couldn't get a read on him and that concern you.

“Hi,” you said, surprised you’d stayed so close overnight. It was unlike you, you appreciated your space and even when someone else was in your bed, encouraging your own space. “How are you feeling?” you bit back a yawn.

“Great actually,” he admitted. “Thank you for last night. You didn’t have to… you know. Be there for me,” he gently brushed some hair from your forehead and you knew you must have been a mess.

Not surprisingly, Bradley woke up like he just walked off a runway. He was so handsome and you think that was what you disliked most about him. “Anytime,” your body temperature rose in embarrassment and you shuffled back across the bed. He smiled as he watched you, he knew you were a little uncomfy with the closeness and he didn't blame you... he was the same only minutes earlier.

You felt impossibly under scrutiny under his fair gaze and you wondered if he knew how uneasy it made you feel when you were… clearly so fucking attracted to him. You’d take it to the grave, but Hangman was right. You felt something inexplicable and sharing this bed was only blurring those lines terribly.

“What time is it?” You gazed at the window. Still looked pretty early.

“5am.”

“Our body clocks are pathetic, we’re on a weekender,” you said dismally. You wanted to remember what a sleep-in felt like. You imagined in your previous lives you were really good at sleeping past sunrise but you knew as you watched the colours over Bradley's shoulders that the sun would be soon and bring a beautiful day with it by the lake.

He grinned, and it was the first time he ever smiled at you where it met his eyes, his divine honey-coloured orbs. “Why don’t you go back to sleep? I’ll go for a run and let you have some time alone,” he said, pushing himself from the bed and stretching. His body was glorious, but you couldn’t ogle him like this. He started sifting through this leather weekend bag, looking for his gym clothes and trainers.

“Rooster?”

“Yeah, kid?” He looked up expectedly as you pulled the duvet back up maintaining as much decency your nightshirt allowed. His eyes darted from your thighs to your face, and if you blinked, you'd have missed the way his tongue darted out and wet his lower lip.

“It’s your break too…” you rolled your back away from him and snuggled back into the pillow. You knew he was perplexed but when the bed gently rocked and he got back under the covers and snuggled up behind you, resting his calloused palm on your hip, he breathed, and you heard his lungs shake. The power in the room had changed and you were both confused, but this felt just right.

"You burn hot," he told you softly.

"I've been told," you smiled gently to yourself as he chuckled quietly, and adjusted his hand to rest flush against your belly, his cheek snuggled into your shoulder.

But you knew it implicitly: you wanted Bradley Bradshaw…

And you probably always had.

SEND ME A PROMPT, I’LL WRITE YOU A DRABBLE.

A/N: the tag list no longer exists. To keep up to date, give @notroosterbradshaw-library a follow x

#notroosterbradshaw #5 min ficlet #rooster #rooster fic #rooster fanfic #ficlet #rooster drabble #rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster fluff #rooster angst #on my knees for feedback #rooster x you #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #bradley bradshaw x reader #rooster bradshaw fic