Stories and preferences about the Cobras, mostly about Ace and Eyeball (and occasionally including Ace x Eyeball). Some will be platonic, others will be romantic. In most cases the reader is written as female.
Some stories will contain MATURE THEMES...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
(I rewatched this ↑ scene so I could write this more accurately and I suddenly realized their cars don't have side mirrors?! And I couldn't see a rearview mirror anywhere either, but we'll pretend they have those at least... But jesus fuck, parking must be hell without mirrors, I could never xD)
What the hell am I doing here?
Judging from the way Billy and Charlie are screaming in the backseat they're wondering the same thing.
Or maybe not. Maybe they know more than you. Billy seems to think so, because he's telling you you're all gonna die if you don't slow down, and Charlie is also telling you to fall back.
You don't want to do that. Getting back in lane behind Vince would mean letting him win.
It's the first time Ace is letting you drive a race against his friend, and you don't want to disappoint him. You want to prove yourself. If you act like a coward now Ace might decide to make you wait in the car while him and the others go look at the dead boy.
But what about the huge truck coming straight at you? As much as you don't want to listen to Billy and Charlie you're really not sure what to do, so you do the only reasonable thing: you ask your brother.
You don't dare to take your eyes off the road for even a second to look at him, but from the corner of your eye you see him calmly sipping his beer. Unlike your friends in the backseat he doesn't seem to be worried about the situation at all, and that's enough to calm your nerves a little.
"Ace?"
You don't need to say more than his name — luckily, as you don't want them to hear how shaky your voice is. Ace has already sensed your uncertainty about the situation, and puts his arm around your shoulders. "Faster, Princess."
You don't hesitate to follow his instruction. Eyes fixated on the truck ahead — it looks bigger with every passing second, ready to crush you — you press the gas pedal all the way down to the floor.
Just when you think that Billy might have been right and you're all about to die, the truck swerves to the side, dodging you by inches, and in your rearview mirror you see it come to a stop in a field next to the road, spilling the logs it was carrying everywhere.
You can't help but feel a little guilty when you think of the driver. You doubtlessly scared the hell out of that poor guy, and now he'll have to collect his freight and will most likely arrive late to wherever he's delivering it...
Once you have passed your friends in Vince's car you steer back into the right lane, almost losing grip on the wheel in the process because of how sweaty your palms are.
Now that the dangerous game is over you can focus on taking deep breaths to try and force enough air into your screaming lungs. The shallow, shaky breaths you'd been taking the whole time simply weren't enough — not that you had even realized how close to hyperventilating you'd been in your fearful state.
When you finally feel safe enough to glace over at Ace he's already watching you, a proud smirk lighting up his face as he chews on his toothpick.
"Well done, Babydoll. You won."
You wordlessly reach for his beer with a shaky hand, taking a long sip.
Your brother laughs. "You weren't scared, were you?"
"Maybe a little. When he kept coming at us..." You shake you head and try to focus on the road. Thank god there's no traffic now; you're not sure how well you're able to drive straight in your current state.
"You could have still dodged him if he hadn't moved out of the way," Ace reassures you. "No problem."
"If you say so."
You know Ace wouldn't have let anything happen to you. You trust him with your life — literally. If he'd had any doubt about the possibility of getting past that truck safely he would have told you to fall back or reached over and taken control of the wheel himself, you're sure of that.
Even so your heart is still hammering against the cage of your ribs at record speed, and you're tempted to pull over. Feel steady ground beneath your feet. Rest for a bit. Give the responsibility of driving — the responsibility for the lives of your friends — back to Ace, who is so much better at all this than you.
But you don't. You're a full-fledged Cobra, not a scared little girl, even if you feel a lot more like the latter right now.
You wanted this. You wanted to prove you're just as tough as Ace, prove that you're worthy of the fresh Cobra tattoo adorning your arm. You just hadn't expected how scary it would be. Hadn't realized that maybe you're not quite as tough as your brother.
But you made it. You didn't die, and you didn't cry. Didn't even scream like the two dumbasses in the backseat.
It's their fault I got so scared in the first place. If they'd just kept their mouths shut this wouldn't have been half as bad.
Ace puts his hand on yours and leans closer so the others won't hear what he's saying.
"You did great, Princess. Everything's okay. It's not far anymore, and if you want I'll drive on the way back home."
He's babying you again, the very thing you had hoped he would stop doing if you proved what a big girl you were now, but you can't bring yourself to mind it. You're not as fearless as you'd like to be, and need the comfort of his soothing words.
