#And I need(ed) a car so bad that this was like. The best possible car for me. And she is!

[miraculouslumination]

Oh yeah your boy has a car now by the way

[aohisworld]

MAGNETIC PULSE! 03

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ Sunoo and Aohi are placed into bed rest after their incident at their comeback stage, and Aohi takes this time to try and mend things between Jungwon and Ri-ki, also gaining a new person by her side.

ʚɞ ⁺˖ ⸝⸝ eventual poly!ot7 x added member!oc. (sunoo centric). contains. angst, a little arguing, uhm cringe writing lol.

| : ̗̀➛ MINTIE’s NOTES: sorry for a bit of a delay!! I’m trying my best to write as fast as I could for you guys, and with the different plots I write a lot of things 😭— anyways enjoy this fic until I can bring more for you guys to read 🫶

| : ̗̀➛ WARNING! How I write ENHYPEN is not meant to portray the idols irl, this is my au and I write this for fun. contains angst and a little bit of bickering/awkward tension.

key: Japanese - Korean.

✧. ┊ "...hi! Aohi!" Xiulin shook the girl's arm, effectively bringing Aohi from the confines of her mind.

"I'm losing you here, c'mon!" Xiulin spoke, worried for Aohi. The girl looked up dazed, trying to wrap her head around reality. "I'm sorry, I was thinking..-"

"Find yourself, batsy." Xiulin held the girl's cheek, her eyebrows furrowed. "The manager texted me, she wants to see you."

Aohi looks at Xiulin, trying to figure out if her unnie was trying to mess with her. "So.."

"So, what? We have to get you there, like, now!" Xiulin spoke, Aohi wasn't really sure what she was doing prior. Aohi just agreed, feeling the car start to move, leaving their separate photoshoot to arrive at the HYBE building as fast as possible.

"Are we actually serious?" Aohi asked after a while, pushing herself into her seat, as if wanting to disappear within the leather seat.

"I wouldn't joke about this, batsy, especially this early into our career." Xiulin glanced at the younger girl, feeling for her hand, to comfort her somewhat.

"I don't want to go, unnie, what if it's something bad?" Aohi mumbled to the older girl beside her. "It won't be bad, it'll be okay. "

Aohi could only hope it was.

BE:LIFT meeting room, 9:40 pm. —

✧. ┊ There was a growing pit in Aohi's stomach the closer she got to the meeting room, in all honesty, all Aohi wanted was to go home, she's had a long day of shoots and she was in desperate need for a nap.

Aohi walks into the meeting room, and she makes eye contact with Sunoo. Aohi seems to click in her head what the meeting was about, and it took everything in her body not to groan about it.

She politely bowed to Sunoo, before taking the vacant chair next to him. Aohi knew the chair was specifically for her, for one, it was the only chair vacant, second, she notices their manager practically pointing at her to sit.

"Go on, sit."

Aohi hesitantly nods, and she's slightly intimidated by the way their manager said that, she places her small bag onto the table, awkwardly smiling at Sunoo.

"Let's see here..." Aohi and Sunoo watch as the manager looked through their folder, glancing at the papers inside for a few moments before slamming it closed, the loud sound startling the two, obviously tensed members.

"What is your guys' problem?" The manager suddenly asked, staring at the two, expecting an answer, and Aohi was startled by the manager's sudden aggressive question.

Aohi felt like a scolded puppy, her tail between her legs as Sunoo tries to form words to reply to their manager.

"What.. could you possibly mean?" Sunoo asked with hesitance, he wondered what their manager could mean, and you could say he was playing dumb, because Aohi had a hunch that he knew as clear as she did what the manager was implying.

"Five months, we gave you exactly five, to fix whatever discourse you and the girls had," The manager motions with their hands towards Sunoo and Aohi.

"We thought, you'd all be mature enough to move forward from being awkward groupmates to an actual co-ed group," Aohi could feel herself hold onto her hands, applying pressure to her palms, as if it'll help alleviate the anxiousness in her heart.

"First off, all we had to do the last few days was not mess up the promotion for Manifesto, it was all I asked, remember?" Their manager asks, and Aohi and Sunoo make the reflex of nodding their heads, deciding to agree rather than argue.

"Then explain the performance yesterday night." Aohi's mouth feels glued shut, not wanting to speak about it in fear of what she'll say. "It was nothing but a mistake!-" The manager silences Sunoo, putting their hand up, and Sunoo can't help but shut up.

"Aohi, did you really have to trip over Sunoo?" Aohi is suddenly put in the spotlight, and she processes what has been asked of her, and she's perplexed.

Sure, she disliked most of her male members, but she wouldn't ruin their image like that, Aohi genuinely made a mistake!

"I didn't mean to do that, really!" Aohi set her ground, denying their manager's accusation. She's somewhat offended that their manager would even think that Aohi was the type of person to sabotage her own group out of pettiness.

"I don't think she meant it either, she was genuinely sorry to me." Sunoo's eyebrows are furrowed, listening to the conversation with a confused expression.

Maybe his hyungs didn't like her, Aohi might've also intimidated him, and he doesn't know Aohi well, but he can sense the girl wasn't the type to ruin any of their hard work.

And Sunoo knew better than to stand by and let Aohi be accused of sabotage.

"Aohi, I understand that the whole situation is not ideal but-" — "I really didn't do it!" Aohi pleads, and her hands almost clasp together to beg their manager to believe her.

"And how do you intend to prove that to the fans?"

Aohi tries to make up an excuse, but the manager's words hit her like a truck. Aohi didn't think of that night, a trait of ignoring things until they got better or worse.

Her throat dries at the idea of fans already disliking her when she hasn't even debuted for a month!

"The fans are already ripping into you, Aohi, your first co-ed album hasn't been out for three weeks and we can't help it if fans start to protest for the co-ed project shut down.."

"Engenes will understand, don't make her feel any worse! Don't blame her for making a rookie mistake." Sunoo felt frustration boil in his veins.

Their manager looks at Sunoo, and they take note of the subconscious hand in front of Aohi, as if protecting her. The manager decides to make a choice for Aohi and Sunoo.

The manager stays silent for a little bit, and Aohi glances at them, seeing them sigh into their fist as they started to grab their stuff. Aohi feels her heartbeat increase the more they moved around her.

"If you're right, and Aohi really didn't mean to make that mistake, we will try to do damage control." The manager spoke their thoughts after a while. "Aohi, apologize to Sunoo for injuring him and do better in your performances.."

Aohi bows to the manager, thanking them for their understanding, "Yes, I'm sorry, really!-" — "And.. Be more conscious of what you do, if you ruin your reputation, we're willing to cut you off to save our own."

Sunoo looks towards Aohi, and he's in distaste the way Aohi lets their manager blame her, when accidents happen all the time.

"I wasted my time, don't do anything stupid again girl, you understand?"

Aohi nods at these words despite it leaving a bitter taste in her mouth, she spoke soft apologies to the manager, "yes, I understand, I'll do better."

The manager leaves the room, and Aohi feels like she could breathe again, but this also gives Sunoo an opportunity to turn to her, and his lips open.

"Yah! Why'd you let them to talk to you like that?" Sunoo demanded to know why, wondering why Aohi was prone to letting anyone tell her she's in the wrong.

"You knew yourself it wasn't intentional, but you apologized like it was! How could you give up on your ground so quickly!" Sunoo scolded, and Aohi sighs, sitting back down and letting the older boy yell at her.

She could feel her heart beating against her chest like crazy, it felt like any faster, it would go up her throat.

Sunoo goes quiet as Aohi just allows him to scold her like his mother does, and he notices her silent sigh, Sunoo feels perplexed that Aohi could just allow anyone to scold her any way they saw fit.

"Are you okay?"

Aohi glances up at Sunoo, and she wonders if there was anyone else in the room asking the question. Aohi looks down at her hands before shrugging.

"Do you just let your management scold you like this, is this why you agreed to the project?" Sunoo asked, and he feared the worse for the girl, knowing she was a teenager like him, it would hurt his heart, already ready to empathize.

"What?- No, I just... I'm tired, hyung." Aohi spoke. "And it's nothing like that back there, they treated me the best they could, so don't say that."

"So was that your first time being scolded by management then?" Sunoo mustered, swaying side from side with his chair.

Aohi stared at Sunoo, and she wonders why he wants to converse with her anyway. "More like I couldn't stay long enough to be scolded."

Sunoo feels the awkward tension creep up on the both of them, so he slightly smiles, "You know, Heeseung-hyung broke one of the tablets we used in an interview," Sunoo looked around the room, before motioning to it with his hand.

"And we were scolded in this same room, it was his first time being berated as well, and he cried like a baby."

Aohi snorted at this, ENHYPEN's eldest weeping after an accident was totally out of her expectations for him.

"Just because he accidentally broke a tablet?"

"Eung, he was all like, 'I'm going to get kicked out, boohoo...'" Sunoo made wiping actions with his fists up at his eyes, making Aohi laugh a little.

"We had to join him in the meeting room because he couldn't even step inside."

Aohi giggles at this, and Sunoo's mood seems to ease up at the gentle sound. The two giggled at the story Sunoo told for a little while, before it dies down, and Aohi is left with a soft smile on her face, rather than one of worry.

"Why did you tell me that? Now I can't get it out of my head.." Aohi leans back on her chair, turning to face the fox-faced boy.

"At least you don't have to think about tonight.. you laughed." She was a little surprised, had Sunoo told her that story to distract her from her thoughts?

"How did you know? Y'know, that I'll start thinking?" Aohi inquires, slightly impressed, she watches as Sunoo giggles at her question.

"I'm an F type." Sunoo winks, bringing another laugh to Aohi's face, and an expression that obviously said corny. "That's such a lame joke!"

"It made you laugh though." Sunoo replied smugly. Aohi shook her head, before her smile disappears into a thin line, and she can't help but glance at Sunoo.

"Are you okay? About yesterday night, I still feel awful." Aohi rubs the back of her nape in embarrassment.

"Nothing I can't handle." Sunoo dismisses, shooing with his hand. "You're so nice to me, I honestly thought you didn't like me.." Sunoo tilts his head at this, "Maybe the hyungs don’t but the idea never even bothered to form in my head."

Aohi's perplexed, as in, yeah, it still stings that her hyungs could probably hate her guts, but more so Sunoo's opinion not following theirs.

"..How? Doesn't the hyungs like... I don't know, talk bad about unnie and I?"

"Please, as much as they dislike you, those four don't have a reason to badmouth you, despite disapproving of you and Xiulin." Aohi felt her heart lighten, just a little bit, at Sunoo's words. She feels a little less burdened, knowing that the older members would leave her alone at most.

"I'm glad.. I don't think I could handle something like that, especially after tonight.." Aohi's lips leave a sigh of relief.

"But, I did have a question to ask." Sunoo made sure to sound passive and as least intimidating as possible. Any weird emotion, and he would startle Aohi away.

"Eung? What is it?" Aohi is quick to pick up Sunoo's head-tilt habit. Sunoo has wondered this for a bit when Jungwon came home yesterday night, he didn't bother to greet anyone at the dorms, making a bee-line for his room.

Worst part is that Ri-ki didn't seem to care, and as the youngest, he would cling to any of his hyungs, and ignoring Jungwon? They were inseparable.

Until yesterday night, of course.

Sunoo worries a lot about his members, the same is said for the others to Sunoo. When the sudden atmosphere at the boys' dorms changed because of the incident and the avoidance of Leader and Maknae, he had to know what happened between the two.

Of course, he tried to dig on his own during the morning, but it was futile.

Thankfully, there was one person he hadn't tried yet. Aohi. Sunoo knows that if anyone knew what was with the two, it had to be her.

"You were the only person besides Xiulin to have spoken or maybe witnessed something between Jungwon and Ri-ki," Sunoo recalls, "They came home the other day, and ignored each other like the plague."

Aohi tenses up at his words, and Sunoo notes this in his head. That confirms that their youngest female member had at least of witnessed something between the two boys.

"Ah, what about them, Sunoo-hyung?" Aohi tries to keep a blank facade, Sunoo presses further anyway.

"Neither one would tell me what was going on," Sunoo didn't want to potentially scare of Aohi liked a startled deer, especially when she was Sunoo's only lead in his detective case, the Wonki incident. (Yes, he unironically calls it that.)

"Deciding to be a caring and responsible members, I remember that you had spent time with them as well, so... would you, maybe... know something about it?" Slowly, Sunoo asks.

Aohi could almost snort at the way Sunoo interrogates her carefully, if not for the way his eyebrows furrowed in seriousness, she would've laughed right in his face.

And also the fact that she's now figured out that the boys had started fighting, because of her.

"Ah..." Aohi wasn't sure if she should tell him about the current situation and how she somewhat knows that she's had a part in their fight. This felt like those choice-making simulation video-games she used to play with the XG members.

Aohi was deciding whether or not she should spend her crystals (her dignity) to unlock a more dramatic route (Sunoo's trust). As a gamer, it was a difficult choice, but as an idol though? A member's trust is always superior.

"I.. don't know if.." — "I just need to know, I won't tell any of the hyungs."

Aohi sighs, before she spoke, "Okay, but they really cannot know." She emphasizes her seriousness by pointing at Sunoo and he thinks that Aohi was adorable, entertaining her by nodding enthusiastically.

God, was this a regrettable choice, because he honestly didn't expect what was going to come out of Aohi's mouth.

"Jungwon and I kissed, Ri-ki and Xiulin-unnie probably saw, and I don't think Ri-ki took it well and-" Sunoo stops Aohi as she blurts out. She felt like she wanted to vomit, but Aohi holds back, only cringing and waiting for Sunoo's reaction.

"...Well, I didn't expect that." Sunoo breathed out, Aohi sighs and nods, "I didn't want to say it because Ri-ki and Jungwon were close and now he's uncomfortable because I-"

"What?.." Sunoo interrupts Aohi, "Jungwon's not the only one who likes you.. Ri-ki does too."

"What?"

"..Huh?"

A bat and a fox stare blankly at each other. One is flabbergasted, and the other is already stumbling the room with the bit of dignity he has left.

Aohi sat there processing, before she looks at the open door, "Yah! Kim Sunoo! Get back here!" Aohi runs after the eldest maknae, who was already turning the corner of the halls.

The two ran for a little while, before Aohi manages to catch Sunoo, toppling over him. "You... can't just-... tell me that and run!"

"I... left something on-... at home!" Sunoo panted making a dumb excuse as the two comically wrestled on the ground. Aohi was appalled at the sad attempt of an excuse from him anyway.

"I can't believe you just gave me the dumbest excuse to get out of this.." Aohi is pushed off by the older guy, huffing as he laid on the floor.

"I can't believe you tackled me like a bodyguard!" Sunoo retorted, looking at Aohi with one of his iconic side eyes.

"You're telling me that it didn't bother to click in your head that maybe, Ri-ki would've had feelings for you after spending so much time with you?"

"No! He's like, a year younger than me, I thought he was just being nice!" Aohi cried out, in all fairness, Aohi was fairly affectionate with her friends. So, Aohi wasn't expecting her sweet Ri-ki to even think of her that way.

Aohi could try to defend herself, I mean friends hold hands sometimes right? Ri-ki was just being a good friend— They always sleepover at each other's dorms, do dumb stuff together! Aohi doesn't just.... you know... oh.. oh.

Oh.

It finally clicks for Aohi and Sunoo could tell from the way the girl's eye twitches. "Finally clicked for you, tokki?" He asks, watching as more of Aohi's gears click in her mind. "...Yeah." Aohi breathes out.

"But.. why?" — "Why, what?"

“All I did was be nice to him.” Aohi pats herself off the ground, looking at Sunoo.

“Sometimes, being nice is all anyone needs to gain feelings for someone.” Sunoo shrugs, finally catching his breath and standing alongside Aohi.

At her hyung's words, she thinks. Sunoo takes this opportunity to slip past, free from Aohi's interrogation.

Aohi wonders about what Sunoo said, firstly, she's somewhat upset that Jungwon would fight with Ri-ki. Secondly, her sweet, "ki-ah" actually likes her.

Like, like likes her.

Thirdly, she might like both of them. Wait. She might like both of them. She likes both of them.

She, Yoon Aohi, likes both of them.

Aohi takes off running once again, catching up to Sunoo, who was desperately just trying to get home after tonight.

"Sunoo-hyung!" Aohi called loudly through the halls, and the boy jumps at the sound of his name, turning around quickly.

"What're you doing? Keep your voice down!" Sunoo scolds, looking around in case anyone heard the loud girl. Aohi pants beside him as she holds onto his arm, making sure he wouldn't leave.

"What do you want, huh?" Sunoo places his free hand on his hip, as if he had better things to do, which Aohi thinks he probably does.

'Aish... this hyung is so sassy..' Aohi thinks, she catches her breath before gulping and focusing on Sunoo with the most cutest determined look he's ever seen. (platonically, of course.)

"Please sneak me into the dorms, so I can talk to Jungwon and Ri-ki!" Aohi clasps her hands together, squeezing them and bowing down to emphasize her need.

"Are you crazy? You can't!" Sunoo gasps. Technically, it was allowed, but Sunoo doesn't see any fun in it if he just agreed.

"Please! I want to fix what I caused, eung?" Aohi pleads, yet Sunoo continues to shake his head. "Do you want a bribe? Is that what you want?"

Now, she was talking. Sunoo thought of her offer, placing a hand on his chin. Aohi waited for his response with a pout.

"Fine, but it has to be late at night, and you owe me take-out for a week," Sunoo listed, but before Aohi could agree, Sunoo stops her. "AND, I have to supervise."

Aohi's eyebrow raises at the last demand, as if skeptical if Sunoo actually wanted to supervise.

"Hyung... if you just want to eavesdrop, just say so.." Aohi deadpans. Sunoo is offended at these words, "You mean, I want to be responsible! I can't be a good hyung if I don't know what's going on!" Sunoo scoffs.

"Okay!- Just, okay. Tonight, okay?" Aohi agreed to his demands, requesting her own. Sunoo smiles, and it's an obvious indication that he's satisfied with the circumstances.

"I'll give you my number. Be ready, because I'll be losing my beauty sleep for this."

MIDNIGHT, OTW TO EN- BOYS' DORMS, 11:50 pm, —

"Batsy, I really don't think you should do this!" Xiulin tiredly hissed by the door, her arms crossed as she watched Aohi get ready to make a midnight adventure.

"Unnie, Jungwon and Ri-ki are fighting, we already dislike each other, them turning on each other isn't going to be any better.." Aohi argued, placing her fluffy slippers on, they were bat-inspired, a gift from Xiulin.

"So? Our fight ends here, if they were a good enough group before we came, then let them prove it." Xiulin stops Aohi before she could leave, placing her arms on the girl's shoulder, a concerned look on her face.

Aohi sighs and looks towards her phone, 11:54 pm, flashes across her face, taunting her to make a choice.

Does Aohi take Xiulin's advice? Does Aohi fix her mistakes? Her debate lasts longer in her head as Aohi steps out of their dorm, and starts to walk up the stairs to the boys' floor.

Xiulin doesn't seem to stop her, only hearing a sigh behind her, before the pitter-patter of her feet, indicating that she had gone back to bed.

She has the mind to walk back but her want to keep good terms with the boys she knew seems to overpower, Aohi continues to fight against herself, not realizing that she had arrived at the boys' front door.

Aohi debates knocking, her fist could barely touch the door when a face-masked Sunoo opens the door, obviously ready to sleep.

"You are so lucky I'm doing this." He hissed, his jaw clenched at the thought of losing sleep because of Aohi, and she could only shoot him an apologetic look.

She quietly enters the dorm anyway, mouthing a soft apology to Sunoo, who sees, but doesn't mention anything about it.

Sunoo leads her down the halls, where they stop at a door, obviously the room him and Jungwon share. Sunoo wanted to tease Aohi, to lighten the mood, wondering what Aohi could possibly tell Jungwon, turning to her with a teasing grin

Although, it falters. Sunoo's smile slips off slowly, watching Aohi tremble beside him as she stared at the door with a worried look. He could see her quivering lips, even in the dimly lit halls of the dorms, since most of the boys had gone to bed.

Suddenly, it felt wrong to even tease her.. "... Hey.. you don't have to confront them.. you know?" Sunoo placed a hand on Aohi's shoulder. The younger girl shakes her head, shaking Sunoo's hand off with it.

"No.. If I don't they'll just fight more, and I need answers." Aohi smiles, trying to ease the both of them, working up the courage to enter the room, but Sunoo only worries.

"They're grown boys, they should be able to fix this themselves."

Aohi still places her hand on the doorknob, twisting the door slightly open, but she stops when she doesn't feel Sunoo follow her. Aohi closes the door again and glances behind her, watching Sunoo doesn't seem to make an effort to move.

"Aren't you coming?" Aohi whispers, just loud enough for him to hear. Sunoo's tired smile returns, "It seems personal to you, so I changed my mind." Aohi felt appreciative, walking to Sunoo and pulling him into a hug.

Sunoo is surprised by the sudden contact, hesitantly hugging back. "Thank you.." Aohi mumbled into his shoulder. She then walks back to the door and enters, closing the door with a sudden boost of confidence from her... oppa?

Jungwon laid in his bed covered in his blankets, with a sizzling turmoil in his mind, it's been a while (a literal business day) since he and Ri-ki had spoken, Jungwon couldn't even try to talk to the youngest because he could barely glance Jungwon's way.

So he sat in his dorm, sulking, since his crush hasn't bothered to talk to him, and now his only dongsaeng doesn't bother to look his way.

Jungwon refused to talk to his hyungs either, disguising it by "not feeling well." furthering the isolating agenda.

Sunoo tried to get him to spill, but all the hyung got was a cat hissing him away. So, when Jungwon felt a dip in his bed, he groans, thinking it was Sunoo.

"Hyung, I said I didn't want to talk-" — "I'm not Sunoo-oppa.." Aohi interrupted, her voice soft and quiet.

Jungwon is alarmed by the sudden feminine voice in the room, sitting up in surprise and hitting his head against the bunk of his bed.

"Ack!" Jungwon holds his head as Aohi gasps, her hands reaching over Jungwon's in worry. He winced, not registering the close proximity he and Aohi shared.

The two looked at each other, seeming to get distracted in each other's gaze, before Jungwon regains his awareness and is the first to pull away. Aohi frowns at this.

"It's late... you should be in bed.." Jungwon mumbles like a kicked kitten, looking away from Aohi as he rubs at his bump.

"I know it's not nice to leave someone after you kiss them, so I came back.." Aohi whispered.

"Is that all you came back for, to pity me? I get it, I won't do it again." Jungwon still refuses to turn her way, making Aohi's heart hurt worse.

"Wonnie.." Aohi pulled at Jungwon's chin, turning it to face her. Jungwon sported an upset pout, looking at Aohi with his brown orbs.

"I like you, I really do..." Jungwon raises his hand to cup over Aohi's. "But?.." He whispers.

"Everything we worked for, everything you worked for.. You'll lose it if we pursue anything.." Aohi explained, running her thumb on his soft cheek, before pulling away from Jungwon's hand.

"So what?" Aohi is confused by his response, "What do you mean, 'so what'?" She spoke, looking at Jungwon's furrowed eyebrows.

"I do have feelings for you, real, romantic feelings," Jungwon grabs at Aohi's hand, re-establishing a touch with her. "Months of denying it put me in this situation, but I don't care losing it all if it meant I get to be with you."

Aohi shakes her head at his words, as if in disbelief of what she's hearing. "What's stopping us, huh? We both like each other, I'm okay with losing this as long as I'm with you."

"Jungwon, you're not thinking straight.." Jungwon pulls Aohi closer, and a hitch of a breath is heard from her. "I'm serious, Aohi." Aohi pushes Jungwon away, moving away from him as she raises a finger.

"No, you're not, because if you were, you know that these feelings wouldn't just hurt us, but everyone around us, and you'd agree with me why we can't pursue anything!"

Jungwon tilts his head slightly, wondering what she was talking about. Aohi wonders why he doesn't understand, why he can't see what she sees. The boy can only stare on hopelessly, hoping to be told what she meant.

"Listen to yourself, Jungwon.." Aohi begged, "You're going to choose me over the future of everyone in this group?" Aohi shakes her head, a scoff threatening to leave her lips.

"Do you know how selfish we are, even thinking about something like that?"

"We'll be okay.." Jungwon wasn't sure who he was trying to convince, because the more time passes, it felt like he was only speaking to himself.

“Jungwon, how could you think that way?” Aohi whispered, both of her hands placed on either side of his face. “How could we be so selfish to love each other like this?”

Jungwon’s helpless, he doesn’t know where to focus his gaze, is it to Aohi’s eyes, as her tears fall in crystal droplets? Her quivering lips, how they hesitate to move?

Why does he still think she’s so beautiful like this? So beautiful, even as she hurts?

“Don’t you want to? Don’t you want us to love each other?” Jungwon whispers, his hand hesitantly covering Aohi’s in a warmth she hates to love.

“I could never ask for that,” She whispers, it felt like she was telling herself these words and even as it hurts to tell him the same things, Aohi continues.

“I’ve never been a selfish person, Won,” A small swipe of her thumb is made under the boy’s eyes, and Aohi ignores the burn his tears make on her skin.

“That’s why we can’t.. because I refuse to want something so selfish, something like loving you.”

Jungwon finally drops his hand, and Aohi's heart joins it. "I get it, I'm sorry.. you're right, I'm the leader, I should do better.." Jungwon gently pulls away from Aohi's hold.

"I'm so sorry... please forgive me, it's better this way.." Aohi sniffles, her tears at a freefall, the droplets hitting Jungwon's blanket.

"Please leave, Aohi." Jungwon pleads with a broken heart. Aohi wants to shake her head, to comfort the boy who's heart she broke. "I'm so.. so, so sorry, won." Jungwon steps out of his bed, his hand around Aohi's wrist as she could only be pulled to the door.

Jungwon was kicking her out.

"No- Jungwon!-" Aohi hics, as she's finally pushed out of the dorm. Jungwon slams the door shut as he leans his forehead against the door, hearing the silent sobs of Aohi from his side.

Aohi doesn't even notice Sunoo's presence as she shuts her eyes, refusing to open them, and covering them with her hands. Aohi could feel herself be lead away from the rooms and into the kitchen where Sunoo pulls her hands away from her face.

"Aohi, what happened?" Sunoo asks, holding the girl by the shoulders, Aohi hiccups as she looks up at Sunoo.

The boy no longer work a face-mask, a concerned look had replaced his tired one. Aohi shakes her head as she tries to push past him.

"What the hell's going on, hyung?" Ri-ki had emerged with a water bottle in hand, at first, he seemed annoyed at the noise but he started looking at Aohi and Sunoo with confusion and anger, assuming Sunoo had made her cry.

"Hyung!" Ri-ki hissed, pulling Aohi in his arms as Sunoo's breath hitches, surprised at the youngest's presence. "Ri-ki!" Sunoo whispers, shocked at the way he snatched Aohi away.

Before Sunoo makes an effort to pull Aohi back, she disappears as Ri-ki abandons his mission for water and instead deciding to hide Aohi away in his room.

"Noona.. what the hell happened out there? What did hyung do?" Ri-ki leaned down, using his hand to pull away hairs that stuck onto her cheeks by her tears.

"Aohi, look at me.." A sob escapes Aohi as she shakes her head, and Ri-ki clicks his tongue, using his now free hand to run itself in his newly dyed black hair.

Ri-ki moves to hug her, and she lets him, his hands wrapping a comforting warmth around her as she sobbed.

“It’s just me, Aohi-san.. It’s just Ri-ki..” He tried, attempting to comfort the girl, just enough that she’d stop crying.

“I don’t know what to do, I just wanted to- I didn’t want Jungwon to hate me!-“ Aohi hiccuped, and Ri-ki tries to place a hand on her head, “Don’t! I know you’re comforting me because you like me, and I don’t want you being just like Jungwon!”

Ri-ki is hurt by the accusation but he shakes his head anyway. "I just want to help you, please let me.." He pleads, waiting for Aohi to trust him.

"I hate you.. both of you.." Aohi whimpers, and despite Ri-ki knowing that she was just emotional, it still stung. Ri-ki made a move, burying the girl in his arms, and Aohi reacted by beating her fists against Ri-ki's chest.

"I know, I'm sorry.." Ri-ki whispers, Aohi's punches weaken as she results to go limp in Ri-ki's arms. "It's okay.. we're okay."

go limp in Ri-ki's arms. "It's okay.. we're okay."

Aohi sniffles as Ri-ki guides her to his bed, sitting her down. A few moments go by with Aohi's sniffles only filling the room.

By the time Aohi had stopped, she ended up coddled by Ri-ki, his hands rubbing up her back in comfort. He makes the first move to talk.

"Jungwon-hyung made you cry didn't he?"

"What?" Aohi mumbled, "I heard you and hyung.." Ri-ki replied softly, and before she could think she was weirded out, Ri-ki saves himself.

"The walls are thin.."

"Then.. won't he hear us too?.." Aohi spoke up, "Even if he did, he wouldn't show his face to you.. especially when he made you cry.." Ri-ki pulled at his blanket, offering it to Aohi.

"I shouldn't be here." She sighs, taking Ri-ki up on his offer. "Yet you took my blanket?" Ri-ki spoke, amusement laced in his voice. Aohi deadpans at him and thinks twice about taking the blanket.

"I should leave then.." Aohi takes his joke as an opportunity to run away, back to the comforts of her dorm.

"I'm kidding, c'mon!" Ri-ki pulls Aohi back down as she stands up. Aohi lets out a laugh, her voice a bit stuffy because of her stuffy nose.

"Why do you want to leave so badly? How come Jungwon gets an explanation, and he makes you cry-" Aohi tries to stop him from speaking any further. "No! How come I don't deserve one?"

Aohi tries to excuse her avoidance towards Ri-ki but he seems to beat her to it.

"If it's because I have feelings for you, then tell me." Ri-ki appealed. "Please talk to me."

"How'd.. How'd you know that I knew?" Aohi looked towards an upset Ri-ki, her eyes widening in shock.

"Sunoo-hyung told me, he apologized for telling you.." Ri-ki shakes his head though, "That's not the point, I'm glad he told you because now I don't have to explain myself to you."

Aohi stays silent, and opening her mouth, but is unsuccessful at speaking a word.

"I know to an extent what you're going to say, but I'm not going to apologize to Jungwon-hyung for my feelings, or fighting with him."

Aohi finally shuts Ri-ki up, using her hand to cover his mouth. "Ri-ki, let me speak, damn!" Aohi huffed out. "First.. You're going to apologize to Jungwon because it's the right thing to do."

Ri-ki tries to speak, but Aohi points a finger at him, telling him not to. "Secondly, you shouldn't have feelings for me."

"Because you like Jungwon?" What was it with guys interrupting her before she could even start to explain?

"No! Because we're idols, weirdo! You don't think I want to like you, or Jungwon?" Aohi yelled in a whisper, Ri-ki tilting his head at her words, "You like both of us?"

Aohi felt like passing out at the way Ri-ki was selectively picking what he wanted to hear.

'This punk..' Aohi clicked her tongue.

"You're not denying it." Ri-ki points out, "Can you focus? The main point is that, we can't pursue this.." Ri-ki moves closer to Aohi. "I'll drop it if you let me test something."

"I'm not playing games here, Ri-ki." Aohi groans, and at this point Ri-ki had trapped her between a rock and a hard place, him being the rock and the hard place being the wall.

"It's not fair, Jungwon gets to kiss you and I don't." Ri-ki grumbled, "God, ki, you're upset about that now?" Aohi was appalled at the way the youngest doesn't acknowledge anything she says.

"Yeah, I am, you make such a big deal about it because Jungwon is the leader, but you brush me off because I'm younger than you." Ri-ki argues, and Aohi can somewhat sense where his anger is coming from, she argues with him either way.

"What are you talking about?" She hissed.

"God, Aohi, doesn't it ever occur to you why I want to hang around you?" She refuses to listen, opting to push Ri-ki away, but his hands wrap around her wrist to stop her.

"Do you think I willingly share the same things, or let you baby me, just because we're 'just friends'?" Aohi tries to free her wrist from Ri-ki's hold, but there's not much she could do against him.

"You brush off my feelings because I'm always going to be your dongsaeng, and you can't see past that."

Aohi shakes her head, trying to deny Ri-ki's words, but he continues anyway, "You don't even realize that I've had feelings for you longer than Jungwon-hyung had."

"To you, I'm just a teenager going through a school-boy crush, but I know it's more than that, you just won't process it in your head."

"No Ri-ki, I genuinely can't like you or Jungwon."

"So, if I kissed you right now, will you still sit there and tell me you don't feel anything for me?"

Aohi doesn't reply, Ri-ki had her trapped of course, quite literally. "You don't know what you're doing Ri-ki.." Aohi felt like she was in this situation before, Ri-ki inches closer and closer.

Her hands that held Ri-ki’s shoulders, trying to push him away, made no effort to move anyway, despite her disagreements.

“Then help me know.” Ri-ki replies, taking Aohi’s silence as an opportunity to meet his lips with hers.

Aohi's breath hitched at the feeling of Ri-ki's soft lips and she couldn't help but feel tears prick her eyes. Ri-ki pulled away, his lips tingling.

Ri-ki looked at Aohi's face, her cheeks getting wet from her tears. Ri-ki could feel his chest hurt at the way Aohi seems to crumble in his arms.

"I don't want to go through this.. I don't want to put you and Jungwon through this.." Aohi whispers, looking up at Ri-ki, and despite no sobs leaving her lips, tears freely poured down the curve of her cheeks.

Ri-ki is unsure of what to do, not expecting this reaction of Aohi, and he could only sigh and hug her, his hand wrapping around her head. Had he overwhelmed her with how he felt? Was he too harsh with Aohi?

"... I'm sorry. You should get some rest, noona. I didn't mean to stress you out." Ri-ki whispered, he's forced to guide Aohi onto his bed, where they used to nap together, trying to sleep away their boredom on days off.

"I didn't mean to make you cry... I just wanted you to understand how I felt." Ri-ki pulled Aohi's head into the crook of his neck, his fingers combed at her hair, and he swore Aohi mumbled words to him.

"I do understand.. I'm sorry you felt that way.." Aohi's muffled voice spoke into his shirt, the vibrations makes Ri-ki shiver at the feeling.

"I never meant for you and won to fight, or for you to gain feelings for me..or.." Aohi stopped herself from naming a few more things as she didn't want to ramble.

"If I knew this would happen, I would've gone back to Fukuoka, instead of putting you two in this predicament.." Ri-ki reacts strongly at Aohi's words, couldn't even imagine for her to return to Japan all by herself.

"Don't say that.. you said you'd be my home away from home, you'd be leaving me here all alone.." Ri-ki whispered, remembering her promise. Aohi sniffled, shaking her head, "I won't speak about my feelings anymore, just stay here, with me."

Ri-ki waits for response, and when he doesn't gain one, he looks down, seeing Aohi fast asleep. He notices the damp streaks on the girl's soft cheeks and makes a move to wipe it with his thumbs.

Ri-ki wonders how a girl like Aohi could be so understanding and accommodating to him and his hyungs, especially when they make such a hassle for her.

The youngest pulls his blankets over Aohi's sleeping figure, allowing her comfort in her sleep as Ri-ki slips to lay next to Aohi.

Ri-ki glances at Aohi's sleeping face, and for once, this was different from all of the times the two slept in the same bed, this time Ri-ki was aware of his feelings and he could only stare at her lovingly as she sleeps off the tears she shed.

"I'm sorry for making you cry, batsy.." Ri-ki spoke, making sure not to wake Aohi, she had told Ri-ki of her nickname once, only using it secretly for Aohi.

With a guilty heart, Ri-ki follows after Aohi into sleep, soft breaths leaving his lips.

EN- DORMS, 9:38 am, —

Aohi awakes with a quick and sudden jolt, alarmed at the environment that wasn't her dorm. She tiredly shuffled around the bed, familiar with Ri-ki's bed as she feels around for her phone.

Aohi felt the familiar case of her phone, reading the time groggily. 9:43 am. She stumbles out of bed as she calls Xiulin from many of the missed calls on her screen.

"Unnie!" Aohi calls out as she hears the phone pick up.

"Aohi! You didn't come back to the dorm, I was worried sick!" Xiulin scolded the younger girl, Aohi could hear the commotion from wherever Xiulin was, which urges her to ask.

"Unnie, where are you?" Aohi asked, switching her hand from one to the other. "At a photoshoot, why?" Xiulin replied.

Aohi stayed quiet for a few moments to her shock, and suddenly panicked shuffling could be heard from Aohi's end, as Xiulin sighed.

"The staff want you home, you and Sunoo were placed in a sort of bed-rest after your meeting." Aohi stops her ruffling with a huff. "Sunoo-oppa is home?"

"You call him oppa now?" — "Unnie!"

"...Yes, the staff wanted you guys to rest after you squished him on stage." Aohi could curse out, but she composed herself and let out a calm hum, "Anyways, just rest, we'll be back soon, I'll make you dak gomtang, okay?" Xiulin replied.

"Yes unnie, have fun, get home safe.." Aohi sighs, gathering a hoodie from Ri-ki's, knowing he wouldn't mind.

The call ends, Aohi's gaze drifts to the empty bed, her question of Ri-ki's presence being answered by Xiulin. Aohi at least has enough responsibility to clean up after her stay.

Aohi folds the blankets and arranges the pillows, she tried to finish with haste because she already felt weird staying after... the wonki situation, second, she felt puffy from crying last night, and her creeping headache wasn't helping.

Thankfully, it was only Sunoo in the dorms so she didn't have to walk out of Ri-ki's room with any awkward encounters.

Aohi tries to leave as quietly as possible, poking her head out for any signs of Sunoo, before stepping out once the coast was clear.

The girl wasn't awkward with Sunoo or anything (she hopes), she was just embarrassed last night, knowing she cried in front of him. Aohi could almost celebrate as she reaches the front door when a certain someone pokes his head out of the bathroom.

"I sure hope you're not leaving without explaining last night," Sunoo spoke, his hand rubbing at some cleanser on his face.

Aohi could almost curse when she hears Sunoo's voice, turning around with a defeated voice, "Well.. I have to get ready and... I can just come back!" Aohi was lying, she was not going to come back and hide in the comfort of her and Xiulin's dorms.

"I can share." And Aohi could imagine the defeat screen in her head as Sunoo opens the bathroom door wider, inviting the younger girl. Aohi places her phone by the holder at their door, and walks towards the bathroom.

Sunoo makes space for her to enter the bathroom and handing her a few products. "I couldn't check on you because Ri-ki looked like he could kill me if I even peeked in his room."

"Thanks for caring anyways.." Aohi mumbles. She squeezes a few pumps out of Sunoo's cleanser as the two quietly did their routines. Aohi could only hope she doesn't break out from using someone else's skincare.

"So? Spill. You obviously managed to do something because Ri-ki apologized but, Jungwon still doesn't want to talk to him." Sunoo spoke, washing his face and grabbing a tube of moisturizer from the counter. He turns to Aohi who seems to rub the cleanser too harshly into her skin.

"Yah! You'll damage your skin!" Sunoo pulled Aohi's hands away as the girl sighs, the entire thing with Ri-ki and Jungwon might get her to breakout than her harsh scrubbing.

"I don't know how many times I have to say this but I really don't want to deal with this." Aohi huffs, "Aohi, tokki, no one wants to deal with your problems either." Sunoo jokes, smiling at the way Aohi rolls her eyes and glares at him through the mirror.

"I mean it, I just wanted to keep my job. I didn't think this would happen." Aohi groans.

"You like Jungwon don't you?" Sunoo pats his face dry, his voice muffled through the soft towel.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Aohi asks, approaching the sink to wash away Sunoo's cleanser off of her face.

"I'm wondering, same for Ri-ki as well." Sunoo shrugs, cleaning up his skincare products once Aohi was on his moisturizer.

"I have feelings for Jungwon... but.." Aohi is unsure whether or not she should tell Sunoo of her feelings for Ri-ki as well.

She knew she always had those feelings but she wasn't aware until now, not until last night. "You like Ri-ki as well?" Sunoo finishes her sentence for her, feeling satisfied when Aohi is weirded out on how he knew.

"How?" Aohi tried to ask, pulling a small laugh from Sunoo. "Everyone doesn't really notice me, but I'm not dumb and I can put two and two together."

"I don't know anything about you, it's not fair you know that much." Aohi complains, and Sunoo is amused by the way Aohi slams her fist on the bathroom counter.

"I'll tell you a few things then, just don't sulk." Sunoo compromised, a gentle pat on the girl's head to ease her. "What if I do something about that info?" Aohi slightly smiles, and Sunoo can see from the mirror.

"Please, you're practically harmless." Sunoo snorts, earning a yell of distaste from Aohi.

“Anyways, I’d stay away from Jungwon, and maybe even Ri-ki.” Sunoo leans against the wall, crossing his arms, Aohi watched him, a little surprised at his boyish behaviour.

Aohi was used to only seeing Sunoo when necessary, that meant interviews, fanmeets, filming, whatnot.

Aohi was used to his feminine side, and she respected him for being so open, despite her being an F type like he was, it was hard to pull anything out of her, much less be outgoing about it.

“Why?” — “If you want them to focus on being an idol, don’t give them the chance to even think about having you.”

Aohi could tell that it was better to take Sunoo’s words to heart, the way his tone tells her that it’s not something to be taken lightly.

“Make the right decision, Aohi. I’m—“ Sunoo takes a pause, “Your hyungs, hopes you know what’s better for all three of you.”

"Aohi, you know what this'll do to us if anyone finds out right?" Sunoo asks slowly, making sure Aohi understood. "Yes, I do.." Aohi hesitantly replies, her mind blurs at the various thoughts in her head. Aohi wonders if she really should've declines Yuzi's offer back then.

"You should head home then, the boys will be home soon, and they won't like you being in here." Sunoo ushers Aohi out of the bathroom, walking her to the door.

"Get some sleep, go eat breakfast, batsy." Sunoo spoke, "That's what Xiulin and Ri-ki calls you right? Batsy?" Sunoo is satisfied when Aohi nods, confirming his assumption.

"Does that mean you're my friend now? Only friends can call me batsy." Aohi hides her small grin and it's obvious she was happy to potentially gain another member as a friend. (Despite not being on the nicest terms with the others.)

"Sure, Batsy."

———

✧. ┊ Aohi took Sunoo's advice to heart over the next few weeks. Despite the unfamiliar distance between her and Ri-ki and the lack of words exchanged with Jungwon, she stood her ground with them, never too far, never too close.

Aohi struggled for the first few days, struggling to say no to Ri-ki because even if he had feelings for her, he was still his friend.

Thankfully, Sunoo is there to encourage her. With the growing distance with Jungwon and Ri-ki, Sunoo is able to soothe Aohi's loneliness enough to keep her going with waiting their feelings away.

For instance, Aohi and Sunoo had decided to have a sleep-over, being bored, and having a day-off anyway.

"Did you just take the last bite of mint-choco?" Sunoo asks from beside a playful scoff leaving his lips. The two called their sleepover a "self-care" night, an excuse to hang out.

Despite the hyungs' disagreements of Sunoo befriending Aohi, she was too interesting, Sunoo understood why the youngest boys never seemed to get enough of her. Aohi was a magnet, she could befriend anyone and she lured anyone with her charms.

Sunoo believed Aohi's presence was electrifying, stuns you into wanting more.

Sunoo felt his teenage giddiness return with Aohi's aura encouraging him to have a small bit of teenage mischief between the two.

"Eung, I'll buy you a tub next time, as compensation." Aohi bumped her shoulder towards Sunoo, a giggle resonating after.

Sunoo just rolls his eyes but that doesn't deter the younger girl, her smile stays strong on her lips, knowing that Sunoo was naturally sassy.

The two decided that they should gossip, talking about the week's funniest moments, like Aohi mistaking another idol's dressing room for theirs, or Sunoo laughing about Jay bumping into a pole while they were out.

"You know, the other hyungs hate mint-chocolate." Sunoo spoke, his spoon in his mouth, licking the remnants of ice cream on the utensil.

"It's the mint, oppa!" Aohi nudges Sunoo, "Did you know, they place the same flavouring from toothpaste into the ice cream." She explains, her gaze never leaving the Ipad screen that played a k-drama Sunoo could care less about.

"So, you're saying mint-chocolate is healthy, because it's like toothpaste?"

Aohi snorts at this question, "No oppa, mint-choco just tastes somewhat like toothpaste, but it doesn't have fluoride like toothpaste does."

Sunoo feels his heart warm at the call of Oppa by Aohi. He couldn't lie that Aohi has carved a spot in Sunoo's heart, and it's almost ironic how he'd fallen in a similar predicament Jungwon and Ri-ki had.

Sunoo guesses it's just Aohi's aura, being so magnetic, he honestly felt like it was a talent.

"Aohi," Sunoo asks, "Eung?" Aohi hums, placing her spoon inside the empty ice cream tub and scrapping for bits of chocolate from the melted ice cream.

"You haven't talked about Jungwon or Ri-ki in a while." He reminds, actually, he doesn't know why he does, Sunoo can't seem to find a reason in his mind to tell Aohi of this information. "Ah... yeah.. I, don't know how I'm lasting.." Aohi tries to focus on the k-drama, and for once, Sunoo can't help but notice Aohi's unwillingness to talk about it.

"Did... are you?— .." Sunoo stumbles on his words, why does he want to talk about this with Aohi? "Am I?..." Aohi repeats, a little confused on what Sunoo was trying to say.

"Do you want to talk?" Sunoo blurts, and he curses himself in his mind at his attempt to salvage the conversation. For being extroverted, he really sucked at talking right now.

"Sunoo-oppa, what are you trying to get at?" Aohi nervously asks, at this point, she was assuming her elder member was having a stroke.

"I don't know, but just talk to me." Sunoo replied, feeling breathless. "Well.. okay, but... are you alright?" Aohi wanted to make sure Sunoo wasn't feeling unwell or anything of the sort.

"yes, just talk." Sunoo ushered, the k-drama was long forgotten, the 'are you still watching?' application being ignored.

"Well, what do you want me to talk about?" — "Their feelings, your feelings, what'd they tell you?"

Aohi laughs at his question, and the sound soothes Sunoo. "Do you really want to know that?" Sunoo nods, yet he doesn't want to listen to her words at all, just finding comfort in the soothing voice of Aohi's.

Sunoo had always listened to Aohi, they were practically best friends from the way they gossiped like it been forever. Sunoo never knew how Aohi didn't get tired talking or he never got bored listening to her.

Aohi and him share skincare all of the time now. Sunoo knows Aohi comes over to use his skincare sometimes. That's why he runs out so often. Sunoo doesn't get mad though, not when it was Aohi, when it was anyone else, Jay-hyung, Ri-ki, Sunoo would rain hell, but never Aohi.

Sunoo never seems to realize that after weeks of talking, he starts to look for Aohi, whenever she's not by his side.

Sunoo believes that now that Aohi had integrated herself into his routine, he fears he won't be able to move on if Aohi somehow disappears.

Sunoo seems to fear something as well as Aohi's disappearance, but at the moment, he allows himself to be distracted by Aohi's soft ramblings.

The boy wonders what he's so scared about. Aohyi giggles at a certain moment she calls as Sunoo thinks and all of the sudden...

Everything clicks.

Aohi finally finishes speaking, "Anyways, I don't know why you wanted to know about that— " She looks up and she's met with a tearing Sunoo.

"Sunoo-oppa? Omo, what!?— " Aohi is quick to rush for tissue and Sunoo's heart races, he seems to know.

Sunoo knows what has him in such a frenzy. Kim Sunoo defeatedly accepts it though. With a heavy heart, he does.

Aohi returns with kleenex in hand, a worried expression, and Sunoo can laugh at Aohi's obliviousness. The girl reaches to wipe at her oppa's tears, when Sunoo's gentle hands grasp at her wrist.

"Sunoo-oppa? What's wrong, why did you start crying?" Aohi is quick to ask.

"Aohi, I'm no better than Jungwon and Ri-ki." Sunoo laughs.

Aohi is confused at his words, she wonders what he could mean. Why would he even compare himself to Jungwon and Ri-ki?

Sunoo could tell Aohi wasn't getting it to click like he could, Sunoo's hands went to sandwich Aohi's free hand in both of his, and Aohi gently wipes at Sunoo's cheeks.

Aohi takes note of his soft cheeks, but she continues to look directly at Sunoo's teary eyes.

"Yah, Yoon Aohi. I can't believe you made me fall in love with you too."

[jisungchan]

orange juice | psh

you turn oranges to orange juice

⚔︎ warnings: ed comfort! extensive descriptions and mentions and scenes of restrictive eating, purging, and the thoughts/feelings behind an eating disorder. sunghoon helps the reader through her physical purging, her thoughts, and helps guide her toward a path of recovery. female collegiate volleyball athlete reader. triggering toward those who have experienced eating disorders.

a/n: this is very self-indulgent, as i have been personally struggling more with my ed lately. recovery is possible, even if it does not seem so. i hope the best for all of you, and my dms are open if you need to talk <3

it’s the same routine everyday, you can’t help it. something about the taste of food in your mouth and the feeling of the chewed remnants in your guts make it churn. you try to stomach it, you really do, but without fail you always run to the bathroom, dying to get it out of your system. you don’t know exactly when it started. growing up in a society that pushed for women to be coke skinny, lurking on tumblr and coming across thin women bragging about their thigh gaps, and even magazines at the grocery store bullying women for being anything over 100 pounds probably did it. you often picked up those magazines as a young girl, flipping through the pages to find the ‘hidden secrets’ they claimed would make you lose weight quickly. but when did it evolve into this? into barely being able to keep food down? you’re not too sure when it happened. 

another day, same routine.

your volleyball team is having a pasta night for the big tournament this weekend. it was tradition, you guys either cater huge pans of pasta or decide to go out. this time, you all decided to go to a local authentic italian restaurant, the best in town. and you are determined this time, you know how good the pasta is and you want to be able to enjoy a plate with your teammates.

you take your fork and twirl the long pasta noodles to form a cocoon. you opted for a simple red sauce pasta, hoping the small amounts of dairy and pure vegetables will help you stomach the food. you chat with your teammates as you keep twirling; you look like a kid picking and playing with their food. eventually, you pick the fork up, long thin noodles covered with the marinara sauce, and a little piece of tomato even gets caught up in all your twirling. you bring it to your mouth, holding your breath in to barricade the scents around you. now, it’s in your mouth and you chew slowly to get your tastebuds accustomed to the textures and flavours. it tastes good, you can admit that, and a small smile adorns your face as you successfully swallow it down without too much trouble.

after more talking, and chugging many glasses of water, you are able to finish your entire plate, something which you have not been able to do in a long time. 

however, the contentedness and ease don’t last very long.

as you get into your car to drive back to your apartment, you feel your stomach churn. that all too familiar feeling of nausea starts to creep up, but fast. you press on the pedal a bit heavier as you feel the noodles slithering their way back up your esophagus, threatening to travel further up to the base of your throat. finally, you make it home. you are so caught up with running to your bathroom, you don’t even notice the extra pair of shoes at your front door as you make a beeline to the toilet. 

bliss, that’s what it feels like. well, in the moment it feels like hell. the contents of your lively team dinner make it’s way past your dry, parted lips as you retch and retch and retch into the poor toilet bowl. you feel bad, all the days and nights you’ve acquainted yourself with it makes it feel like a second bed though. the countless times you have had your arm thrown over the side of the seat, your head resting on it as you breathe deeply to regain any sense of composure. 

but once you even your breathing and brush your teeth, a little too aggressively, it feels like you are on cloud nine. the quietness of your home stirs and you can lay in your bed, having the horrid feeling out of your system. 

however, you didn’t quite make it to those parts.

living alone, you developed the habit of not closing doors. why would you? it’s not like anyone would walk in and catch you on the toilet or changing in your room. so, when you feel someone’s smooth palm rubbing your back, and the other gathering your hair out of the way, you lurch. ever aware of your current state, you jolt further into the toilet, getting the rest out of your system before you spray your agony on them, even if they are an intruder. 

once you are confident you have gotten it all out, you finally turn to look at what kind robber is soothing you at your most vulnerable. you can only imagine your face as you eyes widen with shock and horror at the concerned look on your boyfriend’s face as he takes a damp cloth to wipe your face. 

wordlessly, he reaches over to draw a warm bath for you. there are no words exchanged as he helps you strip out of your clothing and brush your teeth for you, ever so gently, while the bath water pours into the tub. he takes some of your soap and pours it under the running water, a faint smell of eucalyptus and lavender filling your senses and overpowering your earlier activity. he helps you to carefully get in, every touch of his reposeful as he treats you like fine china that might break. and as soon as he dips your washcloth to cleanse you, salty tears drain from your eyes to join the water surrounding you.

he drops the washcloth and kisses your forehead, a tender yet all knowing moment of you both understanding what’s happening. sunghoon went through the exact things you are, but as a renowned figure skater. he knows both the physical and mental turmoil sports take on your body, especially the harder and more competitive you compete. and while he knew this was a problem, especially one that you struggled with, he didn’t know it was quite to this extent.

you watch him as he stares at your face, and you can tell he’s putting the pieces together. how when you eat you only eat small portions, claiming you eat more, smaller meals a day. the way that you often go to the bathroom after eating. he knew you always brushed your teeth after eating anything, but he innocently assumed it was because you were diligent with your oral care, not that the taste of food in your mouth alone could cause you to gag and convulse. 

you see as a few tears slip past his long, dark eyelashes. he doesn’t even take the time to wipe them off as he cradles your face in his hands, looking into your eyes this time. and he whispers, 

“i’m so sorry.”

you shake your head, he has nothing to be sorry for. this is your problem and your problem alone. you feel horrible that you’ve brought him into it. you feel horrible as he was probably just trying to surprise you after dinner with cuddles and watching the dozens of media on your list. but you know your boyfriend, and he knows you inside and out, so it doesn’t surprise you when he reads your mind.

“i’m sorry you didn’t feel comfortable sharing this with me. but i promise i will help you through this. we’re in this together, yeah?”

you nod your head, he always knows just the right things to say to ease your overly anxious mind. eventually, he finishes cleaning you as he praises you for how strong you are, giving you affirmations of how he is so proud of you. 

he dries you off and changes you into some pajamas, which he picks out to be one of his many tshirts and comfy shorts. you both crawl into bed as he pulls you into him, playing with your hair softly as he presses many sweet kisses all over your face.

it doesn’t matter to him that he just say you pouring your guts out 30 minutes ago, he thinks you look beautiful as always right now, snuggled next to him. 

the serene silence doesn’t last very long, not that you expected it to. you knew that you both couldn’t just carry on pretending like he isn’t now overly aware of your mental struggles. 

“you know, people always say that ‘you are so much more than your body,’ but i don’t think that’s fair.”

you look up at him questioningly, where is this going?

“i think your body deserves more credit.” he holds your hand in his, intertwining your fingers against his. 

“your body has been with you your entire life, it has gotten you to where you are today. it has gotten you through all the hardships you’ve unfairly gone through. it has helped you laugh at my terrible jokes.” he pauses as you both chuckle at the remark. and you are happy he’s still being his usual, dry humoured self. 

“it has gotten you through all the workouts, conditioning, and training to earn you a starting position at one of the top volleyball schools in the nation. and, more importantly, it has allowed me to meet you. it has allowed me to see and understand and love you.”

you feel your eyes prick up with tears, and you notice his eyes mimicking your watery state. 

“it has gotten you to each and every date i planned. it has helped your brain love me and make me feel like i am the luckiest guy ever to be graced with you by my side.” 

he presses you closer to him, and you feel his steady heartbeat as it soothes you into a calmer peace of mind. 

“i think we should both treat it a little nicer. we can start slow, i can make you your safe, comfort foods. we can start with little bites to get you accustomed with keeping it down. and if you ever feel the need to run to the bathroom, i’ll take your hand and lead you there.”

“i don’t want you to think i’m judging you, so if it takes some more time of you feeling like this and not getting better, i won’t ever leave your side.” he finally takes his other hand and wipes some of your tears away, then does the same to his own.

“of course i want you to get better, but you also have to want to get better, for yourself.”

you sigh, almost defeatedly. but you know this is for the better, you are hyperaware that you cannot keep living like this. in your logical mind, it seems so trivial. but you can’t help the feeling that grows on you when you think of eating. 

“i love you so much, and i promise you, we’ll get you through this together. i’ll help you look for a therapist and dietican whenever you’re ready. i want you to get all the support you need.”

you sigh again, but this time at your boyfriend. again, sunghoon has his way with words, especially the ones he speaks to you. he doesn’t shame you or make you feel pathetic for your struggles, and he knows you’re going to need more than his loving support to fully recover without feeling like he’s not enough. he knows just what you need, and he doesn’t bring you there himself, but helps you through your journey of self-discoverance and wellness wherever and whenever you need it. 

you find yourself to actually look forward to getting better. the thoughts and dreams have crossed your mind, the idea of being able to go out to eat with sunghoon and fully enjoying whatever meal is in front of you guilt-free. but it all seemed so far away before, so impossible. you felt like that was a life you didn’t deserve to experience and live.

but now, with your new-found confidence spearheaded by the love of your life, it doesn’t feel so hard anymore. of course, there is going to be ups and downs, that’s with any hardship. but, now that you know you have and can get more proper support, your dreams of growing old with sunghoon seem in reach. 

“let’s start with getting some rest for your big tournament this weekend. i can’t wait to see how well you do with the body you have worked so hard on to get you there.”

[pauking5]

Runaway 🏎️ Chapter 3 🏁

Pairing: Naozumi Hiyama x fem reader oc

Genre: racing AU, enemies to lovers, sports rivalry, suspense, a whole lot of teasing, gender power games, spice

Word count: 15.2k+

A/N: Curious who's going to catch the Tokyo Drift reference 😏 Hope you're ready for the storm cause lightning and thunder just met for real in this one. It was literal hell to write at times, but I wanted to get more accurate with it and bring you as close to the view in my head as possible, so sorry for the delay. Tried my hand at writing tension so I hope it's good. Enjoy lovelies. Smooches to you :)

Raiko's Playlist: Bad Boy - Red Velvet, High Horse - Kacey Musgraves, Antisocial - Ed Sheeran, Travis Scott, True Disaster - Tove Lo, "good guy" - Against The Current, Summer Jam - 99 RZNS, John Gibbons, KOOLKID, How Bad Do You Want It (Oh Yeah) - Sevyn Streeter, Pump It - Black Eyed Peas, Tokyo Drift - Teriyaki Boys, Morning After Dark - Timbaland, Nelly Furtado.

Previous Next

Day 3 of Tour de Tokai - Final stages

The sun was up before you could catch any sleep, peaking through the thick blinds with bright beams. That brightness didn't bode well with the small hangover brewing between your pinched eyebrows. A remainder of the excessive amounts of champagne you drank last night and the really excited twosome next door, working hard to drill a hole in the wall behind your head all night long.

At one point, they quieted down and you were near falling asleep until they went at it again and again, and you contemplated sleeping in the bathtub.

Putting on your golden blue team kit and the darkest shades you could find in the mess of luggage, you packed and dragged your heavy bags into the hallway and pressed the button on the lift for reception. You caught your reflection in the shiny silver doors and thanked god no one saw you yet. Your hair was a half-tangled mess, hidden under the team baseball cap well enough. Only two days on the job and you already had sunken in eye bags, but those were probably from the amazing beauty sleep you had the night before.

I had better days, you blew out a breath pulling up your shades.

Bags checked out and safely loaded into the airport car until later, you headed for the track. Walking out to the biggest stand on the hill overlooking the road for today, you scanned the grounds. It was still pretty early but the crowds were already making their way to the stands to get the best seats - right in the sputter of a dusty drift corner. The dirt must be doing wonders for their skin if they paid so much to sit there willingly, you thought, grimacing at the dried up mud painting most of the sun-bleached seats.

At least it was a quiet spot to just do some people watching and wake yourself up. You watched the food court vendors open the back doors to their vans before getting to work on the food. Some people were sat on the trunk of their cars, huddled in blankets or hoodies, eating a makeshift breakfast before queuing up for entrance. The race marshals were putting up the access signs and doing other maintenance checks.

The spring breeze blew softly feeling like a refreshing cup of coffee you didn't have yet. Early mornings like these were the best. Just quiet and mundane. Slow and pleasant.

Your peaceful perusal was interrupted by a figure settling in on your right, mimicking your leaned back posture on the wooden fence next to the race banner, hands crossed over your chest and all. You didn't even need to look over to know who it was. The expensive combination of lemony vanilla and other bitter, citrusy fruits entered your nostrils like ten meters ago, before he even stopped next to you.

How can someone so irritating smell so good?

"How did you sleep?" he spoke, voice low and husky, still laced with blissful sleep. A luxury mere mortals are unable to acquire at the expense of divine hedonism. Though, if that was how gods fucked, you wished to never hear it again. The girl's moans replayed like a broken record in your head even now, voice sweet like cotton candy reaching impossible notes.

Jesus Christ, you shuddered, trying your hardest to get rid of the image you just accidentally put in your head.

"I didn't," you said with a tight-lipped smile, turning to the devil beside you. He did look well-rested. "Hearing your name being moaned until three in the morning kinda ruined the peace one needs to sleep."

"I told you to join us," he shrugged, like he was asking you to join a grocery run and definitely not a threesome call. "It was a good sex catch."

I hope that angel never comes across his dick again.

Staring ahead, you hoped that if you ignored him, he would make himself scarce like he did last night at the car reveal. Instead, he leaned over to your side, lips slightly brushing the side of your ear with another offer that made your skin crawl with tendrils of chills, branching out from your nape all the way down to your spine.

"You know, we could've moved the show to your room. Get you out and about with the masses. Learn a thing or two."

You could taste the malice in his voice, looking to throw you off with raw sex talk. He pulled back to his corner, that annoying grin bright as day on his face, way too enthusiastic about his choice of words after last night.

He should work on his sweet nothings some more.

"I have my fair share with the masses. Don't you worry your frozen little braincells with that," you said, trying to shake off those chills still dancing on your spine.

"Ah, so she does get action," he laughed dryly, tilting forward with another remark he was better off keeping to himself. "I couldn't tell."

A little burst of mischief raised in you, so you turned to face him fully, pulling your shades off. Your body acted on a mindless spurt of small revenge as one of your hands lapped itself around his shoulder, gripping the other in balance and to pull him towards you, while the other rested on top of his chest. Under your palm, his heartbeat was calm and steady, just like the engine of the car before the race.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you scanned his face to see the ever-present amusement etched into every chiseled dent of his jaw, high cheekbones and perfectly angled lips. You wondered if dimples would pop out on the sides if he ever smiled for real, not just in a teasing manner or for show. Was he even capable of smiling?

The more your eyes drove up his face, the wider that eager glint in his eyes got. In the morning sun, rising brighter over the hill behind you, golden beams reflected off his orbs much like fiery bronze specks glinting off regal statues.

That eagerness turned to confusion when you inched closer to his ear, your lips brushing his in the same way his did. Your breath ghosted over his neck and you felt the smallest rise in his pulse, the muscles in his back tensing under your hold. You spoke small, but loud enough to cover the buzz of the rave music catching volume in the stands, making sure he received every single word.

"You know what would be a better catch?" you asked, tone sweet and tempting like a fiend.

His head craned down slightly and he quirked an eyebrow at you, curious as to where you were taking this. Only for it to not be in the direction he expected it to go in.

"Breaking that penis of yours in two and scattering pieces of it on the track like it's fucking gravel for everyone to drive over it. That," you enforced your threat with a swift gaze at his precious groin then moved your eyes back to his, "would be the catch of the year."

His lips parted in disbelief, the smug look on his face gone completely, as if you just detonated a bomb with his very own hand on it.

That was an unofficial war announcement. Jaw tightened in bold offensive, you stood your ground waiting for his retaliation. Your hand was still on his chest waiting for that spike to come again. But it never did.

Slowly but surely, the look in his eyes morphed to one of challenge, burning with the dire need to crush you to pieces for that daring threat.

Was this a novelty to him? A woman driving the reality train through his brain without having her legs open for him? Possibly. Because his smirk was now taut, filled with the same vindictive goading you carried. Just a tad bit darker and full of hunger for battle.

"I would like to see you try, rookie."

Rookie.

That nickname was starting to get on your nerves. Though there was no lie in it because you were a rookie in the sport, the way he said it implied that there was nothing else to you but that - a clueless beginner that will always stay a clueless beginner. Belittling at its finest. Your temper didn't buy belittling very well.

"Listen here you asswipe-" you started, only to get cut off by Don Tanaka's voice closing in behind you.

"Rai, the crew's waiting for... you..."

The words died in Tanaka's throat the more he took in how curled up you were with Naozumi. At first he was about to reprimand you for dealing cahoots with the enemy again, but when his eyes fell on the teeth grinding murderous looks you both threw each other, he decided on breaking it off before the interaction turned violent.

"Rai, step away from Naozumi."

"This. isn't. over," you gritted out with poison, plying yourself away from him.

Pushing your sunglasses back up your nose and throwing one more sharp imaginary knife right in the middle of his annoyingly handsome face devoid of imperfections, you sourly turned and left with Tanaka.

"I think it is, princess," he muttered behind you.

"Just you wait."

The really funny thing about curses is that they never truly... leave.

They might take a break and sip a cocktail somewhere sunny, like the big white-bearded gramps dressed in red does in his vacation after Christmas, letting you bask in some sort of chill ambiguity that all is well and perfect. Until nothing is well and perfect. Just absolutely horrifying and close to provoking a collective meltdown. Quite like the one in your team pen at the moment.

The team was gathered around the car with discouraged looks decorating all their faces as Sentaro, the main mechanic, relayed the news to you. Not one soul moved, everything and everyone as still as your shut off engine.

This had to be some sick joke. There was no way this is happening.

"What do you mean I can't go out on track today? You're joking right?" you laughed nervously, trying to stop your eye from twitching violently.

Apparently, the mechanics tried to start the engine and black smoke came out of it. While that issue was partly because of a clogged air filter that was vacuumed clean now, the engine also overheated to the point they thought it would blow up if they let it run longer.

From your brief experience with cars and growing up around the team garage, you had a feeling of what the issue could be.

"Is the dashboard blinking with the high oil pressure sign?" you asked Sentaro to which he nodded in response.

You were in front of the car in an instant, popping the hood open to check the oil injection. Pulling out the dipstick on a clean cloth your assumptions were proven right, though you wished they were horribly wrong. The rough dirt roads from yesterday definitely took a toll on the engine's oil filter, judging by the black sludge you were met with instead of the normal light brown color of the motor oil.

Dropping down to the ground with your phone's flashlight, you looked under the car and sure enough, there was a trail of the same dark goo leaking out from the car. The oil filter was the problem. And lucky for you, the oil specialized mechanic wasn't here today.

"I'm sorry, kiddo," said Tanaka, leaning on the side of the car. "There's nothing we can do."

Before you could even browse solutions, Kate ran in the pen nearly tripping over her feet. Thanks to Tanaka's steady hold, she landed upright on her feet, giving him a shy look of gratitude that didn't go unnoticed by you. They held each other's gaze for a while, not one thought behind them but a tinge of affection.

Realizing they had an audience, she cleared her throat stepping away from him. His hand shot up to rub his nape with a nervous smile.

What was that about? you thought, scrunching your nose inquisitively at the two. The faint blush spreading on her cheeks and the playful look in his eyes was a bit of a dead give away of what went on between the two. The car issue was more of a priority right now than their mutual fancy. I'll pester them about it later.

"What's up, Kate?"

Your voice seemed to break her out of whatever reverie she was having.

"The pre-race press conference starts in fifteen," she announced, eyes grazing over your team kit before flying back to yours with confusion. "Why are you not in your racing suit yet? What's going on?"

"I'll explain on the way," you replied hastily.

You moved away from the car to grab your bag and went to change in the trailer with her following in tow. Turning back around, your eyes flew back to Tanaka and the rest of the crew.

If the big man was here, he would know what to do. But he left for Tokyo early in the morning for a business meeting with a new sponsor. You were completely on your own with the team, and from the looks of it, it was time to take the lead.

"Nothing you can do," you said with a small smile trying to bring some optimism back into the sour mood. "There's something I can do. Just don't touch the engine until I'm back from the conference."

"Also, go tell the organizers I'm retiring from the first stage and keep them posted on the second one," you told Tanaka, ignoring Kate's gasp of shock. "We might still have a shot at points today. We worked too hard to let that go."

With that, you ran back to the trailer behind the pen, getting changed while Kate's worries doubled and spilled over yours in a frenzy of overly dramatic and stressed hand gestures.

"What do you mean retiring from the first stage? Are you crazy?"

Taking off the kit with a grunt, you made haste for the fireproofs and the suit.

"Not crazy," you groaned, pushing your legs through the pants of the racing suit. "Just trying not to freak out because it won't help anyone if I do."

"The car has an issue that's preventing me from taking part in the first stage today, but I hope," you breathed out, struggling to pull the top part of the suit over your hips, "that we can somehow get it out on track at least for the second stage."

With the already smoldering heat outside and your growing nerves, the ensemble felt so uncomfortable to wear. Pulling your arms through the sleeves and zipping it up to your neck, you fiddled with the soft collar unable to close it properly. Kate swatted your hands away to help you fix it so you could be out the door. Though you couldn't do that without your driver's card that was nowhere to be found.

"On a scale of one to ten, how big are your hopes of that actually happening?"

You stopped your relentless searching for your identification lanyards only to find them in the safe hold of Kate's hands.

"A solid eleven," you paused, grabbing them with a grateful smile. "On a good day. We'll have to see if today is one of those."

You were out of the trailer in no time, heading for the conference room while she ran you through possible questions you could get asked by the stingy reporters. Before you went on stage to take your designated seat, she pulled you back around for a last check.

"You know what you have to say?" she asked, placing her hands on your shoulders to make you focus.

Narrowing your eyes at her with a 'I'm not a child' look, you recounted the rules of publicity she made you repeat before each press meeting. Or more like your very own not so accurate version of them.

"No snarky replies, wait for my turn and try to maintain the already crumbling image we have. No biggie."

She smacked your cheeks together, shaking you hard to bring you back from sarcasm land. Better sarcasm than a full blown meltdown. You rolled your eyes at her dramatic antics, reciting the actual holy trinity of rules to get her off your case.

"If it's not for my own benefit or the team's, don't reply. Avoid all questions about my or dad's personal life with a simple 'no comment'. Keep levelheaded and avoid conflicts of interest," you finished confidently, but with a slight confusion on the last one.

She nodded with a bright smile, letting go of your cheeks. Whirling you around, she made quick work of your hair in a ponytail and fixed your team cap on top of your head to look more professional than you felt at the moment.

"You've got this, Rai," she encouraged sweetly like she always did. "I'll be right here in case of anything."

"Thanks Yuzu," you smiled at her, trying to ease her stress before it rubbed off on you, turning you into a ticking bomb. "I owe you one."

"You owe me more than one," she quipped as a matter of factly.

"Yeah, yeah," you waved her off, turning for the stage. "I'll tell dad to add a holiday bonus to your paycheck."

"All debts are paid," she replied, sounding like an ATM machine that just cashed out your first salary before you even saw it in the account.

You went up the stairs, taking a seat behind your name tag, near the middle row on the lower side of the makeshift stage. Most drivers were already in their seats waiting for the show to start so you could all be on your way. You caught sight of Akira about two chairs down to the left, already clocking you with a small wave.

At least there's some sunshine in the world.

You leaned over the seat, turning the mic away. He scooched over, meeting you halfway with a short smile that was enough to send butterflies swarming wildly in your stomach.

"Hello there."

"Hi," you replied sheepishly. "You ready for today?"

"I hope so. The tracks today look way better than whatever the fuck those three were yesterday."

You both shared a horrified look remembering the disaster that almost left your cars in totaled wrecks the day before.

"What about you? Ready?"

"It's complicated," you looked down in disdain, conscious of the mess awaiting you in the team pen after the conference.

What was the point in elaborating further? He's going to see the scoreboard anyway. The retirement issue was better kept under wraps for now, in case press inched to you like leeches before they even got to ask you a question.

"Hogging my seat doesn't look that complicated."

That tone of mixed delight and irritation could only belong to one person. That and the shady vibes prickling the hairs on the back of your neck like the very shadows of death were about to swallow you into the underworld.

Sure enough, craning your head backwards Naozumi was right behind you. Alarm bells rang in your head replaying his words again. His seat? What the fuck is he on- Your eyes fell back on the name tag right beside yours, reflecting Naozumi Hiyama back at you, bright as the light of day. Oh.

Naozumi was to be seated on your left for the next half an hour. What a joy. For some poor sick bastard, definitely not for you.

How did I not notice it before I sat down? I could've switched seats with the backfield guys in a heartbeat and no one would know a thing.

Looking back behind you, your small hope was crushed as most seats were taken up already, busting your escape plan. Your gaze landed back on the man, now more interested to know how much of your conversation he heard.

"How long have you been standing there like a scarecrow?"

"Enough to almost physically gag at your conversation."

Ah, there he was. Repulsion in human form. Wonderful.

You bid Akira an apologetic smile and leaned back in your seat, letting nation's finest walk by to take his own. He held onto your backseat to let himself down in his. Leaning way too close to you again, you caught an extra accidental whiff of that expensive perfume of his, toned down by the scent of the burnt rubber fumes caught to his suit. You turned your head away with a breath, resisting the urge not to choke. From the snicker on his lips pointed downwards, you could tell he did that on purpose. Fucker.

It wasn't long and the press conference finally commenced. As expected you weren't first in line for questions, both to your relief and growing unease. Your thoughts ran back to the car. The longer you spent here, looking pretty for the media that could care less, the less time you got to spend on fixing the car. Changing the oil filter was relatively less time consuming than the oil draining and changing. Besides, who knew if there weren't other problems. There were always problems.

Tapping your feet impatiently under the table, your eyes trained on the digital clock at the back of the room, mentally pushing the flickering red dots bouncing between the numbers a tad bit faster. Boring questions aimed at the other drivers went in through your ears, fading together, getting lost into an incorrigible mess of side thoughts, all while you dissociated somewhere far away.

At some point, something heavy moved on top of your leg that seems to have taken on incessant bouncing. You broke your eyes away from the clock to check. Thinking it must have been a bug or your sleep-deprived hallucination, you were beyond surprised to see a hand resting there, all five fingers of it splayed wide on top of your knee, nearly enveloping it whole.

Following the path of the muscular, veiny hand to the grey material going up the plush arm of a racing suit, you found it connected to Naozumi's shoulder. His gaze was set ahead with his chin propped on his other hand, a bored look taking over his usual amusement.

Is he looking for entertainment again?

Focusing your attention back on the press crowd, you went to push it off briskly. You felt it slide off your leg, shutting your eyes in relief that he let go and didn't put it back, going back to your daydream.

The clock ticked by infuriatingly slower, and by the looks of it, only ten boring minutes passed. You resumed your foot tapping, unable to keep cool without releasing tension in a way that kept you calm and levelheaded for the rest of the conference. You even started repeating Kate's set of three rules, again and again, until they blurred together in your head into a mess of words.

Unconsciously, you resumed the knee bouncing. That's when the same familiar weight sat back on top of your knee, trying to cease your restless shaking. You groaned mentally, aware that there was nothing else you could do but let his hand sit there until he got bored of being annoying.

Was it weird that the touch gave you a small ounce of comfort? It was so far from an actual touch, closer to a simple brush. But it grounded you back to reality in a less impatient way than your nervous foot tapping.

Jesus, Rai. The man fucked the sleep out of your brain last night. He's trying to get under your skin.

Leaning forward on your hands, you shifted your position so your feet crossed under your seat in hopes his hand would slide down again. His grip never lessened, turning firmer on top of your knee, seeing right through your trick. You huffed a breath through your nose, trying to calm down before you shoved your fist heavy with rage in his beautiful face to do some overdue damage, since he was asking for it so nicely.

In your line of sight, you saw him reach down for his water bottle, right beside his leg. His hand trailed down your calf with the movement, only for it to slide back up to its original spot on your knee.

This wasn't anywhere near comforting. This was teasing. Maybe even payback for this morning for invading his space with violent threats of castration. The side of his lip curled up in the slightest, letting you know he was enjoying tormenting you a whole lot.

Since he's so into masochism, we'll see how brave he is next time when I sneak in a lighter. The suit might be fireproof but I don't think his fingers are.

Somewhere between Naozumi's idiotic game and your patience running thin for the male species, the press finally remembered you existed and your name was called out by a reporter.

"I'm Hina from Daily Times. I have a question for Rai Suruki of Suruki Racing."

"Go on," you nodded with a smile.

"There haven't been a lot of female entries to rally in past years. Are there some goals you hope to achieve with your participation in the Seiko Rally Cup Series?"

That was quite a nice question. She seemed a little unsure of herself, probably new on the job since she was already being mangled down by the experienced male gazes in the room, especially from the reporter clique.

Turns out rally isn't the only industry where women are not welcomed.

"Well," you started, "I hope that if more girls see me out there on track, they can gain the courage to get racing too. Be it karting, rally or any other series. I grew up seeing my father's generation race and it felt daunting getting into it in the first place, since there was little to no female involvement. But times are changing and I hope it's for the better. Goal-wise, I would say the biggest one is to get girls into the sport, technically or behind the wheel," you ended with another smile, making sure she got a good amount of detail to work from.

That encouraged her to show you a bright smile in gratitude before she sat back down. You nodded back at her with one that matched.

"For Raiko Suruki, from Automotive Racing," called out another reporter, much older than the rest. "Heard the car is totally self-manufactured. How's the pace on track so far?"

Ah, technical questions. I like those.

"So far it's good. We're still testing bits and pieces to see what works best, but so far it's responding well to our tinkering. Like any car there's setbacks, as you may have seen in the previous stages, but we're working to remedy that and maximize its current performance. There's a lot of power under that hood and we're trying to see just how much of it we can bring out."

He nodded, scribbling down your words in a stacked leather notebook filled to the brim that has definitely seen better days. At least that said he's passionate about the sport and not just here to get a quote for a flimsy article. True to that, he geared up with another question.

"Performance progress-wise, do you think it's a car able to compete for the cup this year? Maybe even to reach the WRC?"

It was a reach to aim for the title, knowing the team barely got back on the road. But it was a goal nonetheless.

"Absolutely," you answered right away. "We wouldn't be here if it wasn't. As for the WRC, I guess it's all in due time."

"I'm looking forward to your evolution. Thank you," he concluded his short round of questions, sitting back in his seat.

"One more question for Miss Suruki," shouted another reporter. "From Tokyo Action Sport."

Uh-oh.

Tokyo Action Sport was one of the big ones Kate told you to be wary of. Due to their huge coverage of all sports around the country, sports buffs took their word like it was the weekly Ten Commandments in print form. That and the fact that they liked to scandalize most, if not all of their headlines - basically the foul celeb tabloids in dirty sports version.

From the way the reporter twirled the pen around his nimble fingers and the sneer on his face as he skimmed over his fancy notebook, you could tell he was looking for another front page story with an equally disarming question at the ready. You nodded for him to talk, bracing yourself for the incoming attack.

"Last night, at the official car reveal, you said you will compete for Suruki Racing until the team no longer wants you," he started, lifting his icy eyes from the paper to cut through you. "Does that mean your contract has an expiry date?"

If there was a question that, when uttered out loud, would have the power to open the gates of hell, it would be this one.

Expiry date? Driving for the team that has my name on it? Fuck me if I know.

Your nervous tapping resumed tenfold, forgetting all about Naozumi's hand that was still stationed on your leg, now struggling to stay there in the wake of the shaky earthquake coursing through you with the sharp truth of the real world.

You never thought of the possibility of driving for another team. Right from the start, Suruki Racing was to be your forever home. For Christ sake, you were the only hope for the team to stay alive at the moment. But that was just your opinion, maybe Tanaka shared it. But the team might still be adamant to take you as their only viable option and that might just be the case for your father too.

Nothing guaranteed that you will always be their number one choice.

"Why did Suruki Racing pick you out of the wider talent pool out there?"

"Are you trying for yourself or for him?"

"Do you consider yourself a challenge to the rest of the drivers?"

Your nervous shaking was several tempos away from rattling the panel table and attracting attention you were better off without at the moment. The aftermath of that happening was already in sight.

Suruki Racing's finest cracks under the pressure of her first press conference, would read the first page in the later Sunday print.

Is Suruki's own bloodline able to keep the legacy with no surety of a long-term contract? another one would say.

If you were lucky they would put it on the second spread or in the middle pages next to some old car adverts. But the worst part of it all is that the majority of the rally community, including the panel of drivers around you, would wholeheartedly agree with the newspapers.

Maybe this was just you making movies in your head but those were always possibilities upon possibilities and they all pointed to failure. Your failure of saving the team and seeing it succeed if you caved in to them.

The weight on top of your knee moved higher up your leg, stopping mid-way on your thigh. Enraged out of your mind, you were about to swat if off like a fly just when Naozumi did the unthinkable - his thumb started rubbing the side of your leg in circles over the suit, alternating patterns. You could feel that touch burn even through the triple permeable fireproof layers, sending all your senses in override, heartbeat pounding louder in your ears with each languid stroke of his thumb.

Was he trying to calm you down? Or was this him riding on the wave of anger surfacing from the depths of your very being to make you inch closer to exploding? Because there was a thin line between the two and you struggled to find which direction he was steering in today.

Strangely, that mildly provoking but oddly comforting caress worked. It calmed you down and drowned the black hole your mind went down into, bringing your focus back on the task at hand - giving the reporter an answer before your silence was taken as one.

"I'm afraid not," you responded, your voice bouncing back way too quiet on the microphone for it to sound like you were sure of yourself.

A handful of chuckles erupted behind you, rippling down into the audience and the rest of the media crews around the room.

"Everyone has an expiry date on their contracts, doll," commented a gruff voice from behind you. "Better find it out before the press does," they added with a chuckle.

You turned around to match the rude remarks with Katsumi's face, driver for Top Rank Racing. From what you knew about the man, he's been in rally long enough to know that he was right. Though he could've delivered that a bit more nicely.

Casting an unsure look at Kate, you saw her beckon you to say something else, mouthing several pointers that fell unheard with your growing unease. There was nothing else to say. That was the pure truth. No one had a safe seat in rally, except if you were Akira with loads of talent or Naozumi with a shit ton of cash to throw around. But you... you were lucky if there was a next year for you at all. And that might just be the case for your team too, whether it takes off or it burns to charred ashes again. Whether they keep you with them or not. And that realization hurt the deepest of them all.

"There you go again with useless questions, Misano," spoke Naozumi, successfully diverting your attention away from a meltdown.

His voice carried out smooth like whiskey over the shushed murmurs in the room, able to charm the attention of even the stingiest creature. His dark brown eyes were throwing sharp daggers with the aim to impel the man in the middle of the press convoy, almost like he had some personal vendetta against him, able to see past his journalistic tricks better than anyone.

From the few words he uttered your way you could tell why.

"Why don't you wrack your brain for something more interesting to ask?" he added bitterly.

Misano could only glare at him, shifting his attention from you to the man beside you, much more poison seeping from his tone at being interrupted.

"I was just about to get to you Naozumi. Impatient as always," he sneered. "I do have a really good one," he chuckled lowly to himself, like he was about to get the scoop of the century.

Naozumi was absolutely unfazed by his tactics. Just like you were, before he opened his mouth.

"You and Shinkai are in quite the fight to reach the higher ranks of the WRC. Did you solve the misunderstandings from last year to prevent more incidents from happening this time around?"

Naozumi laughed dryly at that, averting his eyes away from the man so overzealous for drama. When his eyes fell back on him, it wasn't with the same playful gaze reserved for toying around with people, but with raw hunger to rip him to shreds until every other word he was dying to write was out and cut to tiny little pieces on the floor.

Even you shuddered at the intensity of that look. You thanked the heavens it wasn't directed at you. If you were in Misano's shoes, you would shove those words back down your throat and run to puke them out somewhere they would be more well received, like the trash can outside, right around the door. That might do everyone in here a favor.

Naozumi finally let go of your leg, turning around in his seat to face the press with more interest. You breathed a small sigh of relief at the loss of contact. But a small part of you mourned the reassurance it provided for a short while, letting the nerves about your future race back up your spine again. At least they were dimmer now, since you put your focus on the charade of power to your left.

"If by misunderstanding you mean forced damage to my car," paused Naozumi with an icy grin matching the gaze that never once faltered from Misano, "then no, we didn't solve anything."

He delivered that affirmation so smoothly that even you leaned over the table to get a better look at him. Contrary to the calmness in his voice, there was a furious annoyance taking over his features. One far more irritated than the other looks you've seen him sport in the past three days.

"You can't solve misunderstandings with hardheaded people," piped in Akira, matching the same sweet venom in Naozumi's voice.

Naozumi could only smirk coldly, dropping his gaze to his team racing suit before he aimed it at Akira.

"That's where you're wrong," corrected Naozumi. "You can't solve misunderstandings with irresponsible people that can't admit to their faults."

It was Akira's turn to be vexed, staring down the man on his right. Those eyes, softer than melted chocolate, turned into the most violent tempest catching speed by the second. Though he wasn't necessarily asked a question, he was just as involved in the one served to Naozumi, so he turned to Misano with a comment.

"I think what Naozumi means by that is that some things are better left in the past. Or swept under the rug for the sake of it."

Point, aim and shoot.

"Let's leave the talking to the track," grinned Akira, patting Naozumi's shoulder in feign respect.

Naozumi broke into a toothy smile, tongue coming out to swipe over his teeth in disbelief. That smile grew and grew until it matched Akira's, just like a Cheshire cat. Then he leant over to him, whispering something in his ear. A threat you just so happened to hear.

"Stay the fuck away from my track. And don't fool yourself that thing was accidental to free your conscience" he mumbled.

The cameras flashed to immortalize the moment, making sure to get all sides of the burning declaration of war. They held each other's gaze with impending rage, pumping hard enough to blow out big dark fumes like messenger torches.

Keeping levelheaded and avoiding conflicts of interest was a rule their agents were probably negotiating with them, not even close to being able to enforce it.

From the looks of it, there was way more tension between the two than they let on with those loaded glances passed from one end of the paddock to the other in between stages. They had history that was better left unraveled for the sake of the rest of the season.

I take it back. The car reveal was a baby next to this shit show.

After that, the rest of the conference went by uneventfully. Surprisingly. The stifling tension however, was still palpable in the air. It was crazy how just one question from Misano turned the mood salty real fast. He hasn't asked anything else ever since, sitting merrily in the audience with a smug smirk, utterly pleased at causing an uproar.

The rest of the reporters went for decent questions as the drivers geared up for mayhem on track. As soon as the organisers let you, you dashed outside, welcoming the fresh breath of air and freedom away from that purgatory room.

Got nine more of those to endure.

"Not bad for your first press conference, rookie."

Was that supposed to be an encouraging pat on the back? If anything it sounded haughty and kind of condescending.

Does it hurt him to shed off some of that superior complex thing he has going on?

Upon remembering his game back in the conference room, you whirled around to him instantly, backing him in a corner so no one could hear your murderous intentions. The flames inside of you were leaping high and violent again. But that must have been the Naozumi effect at this point - setting you on fire then walking away only to come back and kindle you again whenever he saw fit.

"Don't ever touch me again or I will rip your hands and shove them down your cars' exhaust. Understood?"

"It was a good distraction though, wasn't it?" he smirked, pinning you with that knowing look of his that made you want to spit fire like a dragon.

"It was so fucking unnecessary-" you stopped, the rest of your words dying in your throat. "It was so -," you growled. "You're so -"

You gave up on speaking. There was no point in explaining why punching him was the right thing to do because the more you looked at it you realized he was right. That playful stroke was a good distraction from going berserk with all those demons patiently waiting to pick you apart like flies that dove into shit on the side of the road. Even if it was for a while, he managed to calm down your stormy temper. It was a miracle for anyone to even do that in the first place.

He leaned down to you, stopping just a few inches off your face. His eyes drifted down to your lips for a brief second before securing your gaze again with that dark look of his that has probably disarmed more girls than you could count on all your existent fingers, hands and toes included.

"That's what I thought," he said as teasingly soft as a brush on canvas.

Before you could say anything else he walked off, leaving you dumbfounded with your tongue poking your cheek, and kind of questioning your sanity.

He's so goddamn infuriating.

Back in your pen, you took off the suit, changing back in the team kit and made a beeline for the car. There was no time to waste. The crew gathered around you in a heartbeat, waiting for your directions.

The skilled gazes laid on you, full of years of garage work, made you very aware of the fact that they expected full professionalism from you.

God, I hope this works.

"Okay so, we need to change the oil filter," you started. "The oil inside is contaminated and from the looks of it, it's not usable anymore. The filter itself appears to have blown a gasket, so that too needs replacing," you finished in one breath.

"But our oil person isn't here today," Akio, one of the mechanics, pointed out.

"Mister Hinode isn't," you sighed, hoping the old man was enjoying himself for taking the day off today of all days. "But I am. I watched him change enough oil filters back at the garage to know what I have to do."

"Very well. Lead the way," he replied with a nod, fully placing his trust in your hands.

Though slightly unsure, the rest of the team followed. Looking back at Tanaka, you saw him nod too, letting you know he had your back. At the silent show of support, you pushed the nerves away and got to work in your full element.

"What I need from you is a car lift, a drain pan, the new oil filter, and four or five liters of motor oil," you told the team. "Draining it will take about an hour, more or less, and replacing it a little less in theory. We have less than four hours until stage two so we can't afford to lose any time if we want to get something out of today."

"You heard the girl," clapped Tanaka, moving to get all hands on deck. "Let's move."

You turned to Sentaro and the electrical engineer.

"I need you guys to run the electrical checks again, now and after I finish changing the filter, in case anything else goes off and needs fixing so we're on top of it ASAP."

"Got it. Also, regarding the oil pressure, it was on high levels last night when we brought it back from the event, but we thought it was from being out on track for so long," he said apologetically.

"Don't worry about it. It can happen out of nowhere too, especially considering the roads I drove it down yesterday. But do ping Mr. Hinode in case there's something we're missing."

"Thanks, Raiko. You're a lifesaver," he said, walking back to his laptop.

Eh, I'm a what now? you blinked trying to take that compliment in. Shaking yourself out of it, you rolled up your sleeves to your elbows and worked to lift the car at an angle you could fit under it.

Pulling over a creeper, you leaned back and got under, looking for the oil plug under the dirty chassis. Finding it right away, just a little off the underside of the front bumper, you unscrewed it with a wrench. Barely twisted open, the splotchy black goo started spilling everywhere, much more liquid and disgusting than you thought it would be. What was on the dipstick was nothing compared to what spilled out on the sides of the plug. It smelled horrible, like murky grass and three days old mud had a biochemical hazard lovechild. And there was about four liters of that to drain out.

The more you unscrewed the plug, the more it splattered everywhere, some of it flying in your hair. Jerking away so it wouldn't land in your eyes, you turned the plug tugging it off completely. The oil flow doubled right away and you realized you should've had the drain pan under it before you unscrewed it.

"Fucks sake," you grunted, holding out a hand to whoever was close by. "Loosen the oil cap on the top and hand me the drain pan."

A hand pushed the drain pan into your own and you moved fast to shove it under the oil drain, to avoid more of it staining the asphalt.

You slid out from under the hood to breathe in some fresh air, meeting with Kate and Tanaka's faces, looking at you with matching disgusted looks as they took in your very contaminated appearance.

"Your face..." started Kate, pointing at your face as she pinched her nose.

"All natural," you shot back. "You should try it sometimes."

Tanaka howled a laugh as he pulled you up from the ground, handing you a few clean cloths. You wiped your hair as best as you could, frowning at the dirt coming out of it. That will take a lot of showers to take out.

"Now what?"

"Now we wait. And make other checks on the car to make sure nothing else is broken."

Come on, pick up.

Pacing the dusty ground above the stands, you listened as the line rang and rang, each dial tone pumping the nerves back in your system. You were starting to regret this until he finally picked up on the seventh ring.

"I'm in a meeting right now," filtered your father's shushed voice through the phone.

Of course he's in a meeting. That's why he left early this morning. In the chaos with the car and the press, you forgot all about that. Now the scope of the call didn't even really seem that important anymore, preoccupied with the fact that you interrupted something that probably was.

"Raiko? Are you there?"

A car whizzed past on track, pulling roars of cheers from the crowd, prompting you to find a quieter corner.

Was there even a point in asking that?

Fuck it. Just get it over with.

"Does...," you started, but the rest of the words got lost somewhere in the mess in your head. You took a deep breath and tried again, this time sounding a bit more composed. "Does my contract have an expiration date?"

He could tell something was off. You could be as composed as you wanted, but your father could always pick up on the uncertainty laced in your voice.

You heard shuffling, rushed goodbyes and a door closing shut, before a chair creaked. His voice came through more clearly now.

"Of course not. I told you you're welcome to drive for Suruki Racing until you no longer wish to."

Those were the same words you said out loud to the reporter just last night, so sure of yourself and knowing what you wanted that it would be impossible for anyone to second guess it or even challenge your claim to the seat in the team. Until smug-face opened his mouth to comment on it in the press conference today.

"Is everything alright, Rai? I know I left in a rush but if there's anything you need, please let me know."

"Everything's alright," you reassured him, trying to sound more on top of the situation than you felt. "Sorry for disturbing the meeting."

"Eh, don't worry about it. I could use a break," he chuckled, making you chuckle too.

It was so good to finally talk to him like that. Like you were father and daughter for once in a while, before being team principal and driver.

"Are you sure everything's okay?" he asked again, willing to listen to any concerns you had, big or small.

"Yeah," you sighed softly. "It is now. Thanks dad."

He could tell there was more to it than you were telling him, like the issues with the car and missing the first stage, but you didn't push it. Tanaka would catch him up on it later anyways. There was no use in railing him up on a plane right now.

"Always, firebolt. Good luck out there."

That always was your I love you. He wasn't one to be a softie for cheesy stuff, like blurting out those three words, but that always never failed to reassure you that you'll get through anything and come out on the bright side. No matter what.

"Good luck to you too," you piped up, ending the call.

Looking ahead, you caught sight of the Spica Racing blue hues right on time, approaching a rocky corner. Naozumi took it so effortlessly before diving into the last drift portion taking it wide, closer to the barrier, lifting the dust and gravel off the ground to fly off in the stands like a gust of sand.

You backed away coughing a little, shaking your head with a smile at the gesture that was one hundred percent intentional.

At least someone's having fun today.

You got back to the pen at the same time Naozumi pulled up. He got out of the car much more pleased with his run than he has these past few days. He didn't even yell at his engineers this time. Peace and quiet ruled the Sigma Racing pen surprisingly.

Unfortunately for your short lived peace of mind, he caught sight of you and turned your way with a smile as wide as his pride must be flowing in from head to booted feet for completing a stage this nice. If only you had the chance to go out on the road too.

The closer he got to you, he eyed you from head to toe, taking you in all your muddy glory, scrunching his nose at the smell that was still glued to you like you sprayed on intense dirt road cologne. The nasty kind that barely washes out of your clothes after rolling in it. Your clothes also reeked of motor oil. If someone had a flint they might as well light you on fire if you just breathed in their direction.

"What happened to you?" he frowned. "Did you DNF into a bush of skunks or something?"

"Haha, really funny," you deadpanned. "I didn't even start the race for that matter."

Throwing a look at the scoreboard in your pen since it was closest, he scoured all the names of the drivers until his eyes landed on yours, staring back at him with a DNS in bold letters, right at the bottom of the grid. Shameful and defeated wouldn't even begin to explain your sour mood.

"What? How did you even manage that?"

Was he actually concerned or was he just planning to fumble the bag for more insults based on your answer? Closing in on the playful glint in his eyes, it was probably the latter and you were not in the mood for it. At all.

"Engine issues," you sighed, slumping in defeat.

It's been half an hour and you were still waiting for the oil to finish draining before you could actually fix anything. Time was ticking away and so were your hopes of somehow participating in the second stage.

"You missed a spot," he said, gesturing to your face.

Bringing your hands up, you wiped them everywhere coming up entirely clean. Is he seeing things?

He shook his head before coming closer, wiping his thumb over the tip of your nose. Your heart thrummed in your ears, drowning everything else around you but his touch and how close he was. Feeling the callused pads of his fingers on your skin, without all those fibrous layers of the suit between you, felt like being touched by millions of sparks of electricity at the same time. Heat surged on your cheeks quicker than you could hide it.

Him being him, he just had to ruin the moment. Not that there was one there.

Instead of getting the splotch of mud away, he smudged it all across your cheeks with a grin.

"There. Much better," he concluded, stepping back from you, proud of his outstanding work of art.

That only provoked you, flipping the switch on your rage. You kept it under wraps long enough and at this point, he was just asking for it. Not your fault his decency sensors must have been broken since he was born and folded in a blanket.

"I told you not to touch me ever again," you rasped, swatting his hand away a bit too violently.

"Hmm, I don't recall," he hummed, wiping his thumb on his suit to get rid of the dirt splotch he scooped from your nose. "It was probably an empty threat."

An empty threat? Hah. He's really starting to piss me the fuck off.

"What the fuck is your problem?"

Because he had many of them and most of his recent issues included disturbing your peace on an undetermined period.

"I don't really have a problem, rookie," he shrugged nonchalantly.

"Stop calling me that," you seethed. "I'm not a rookie," you breathed out with eyes closed to try and calm the fuse inside of you before it blew. Though you didn't mind if it blew in front of Naozumi's face and set him on fire a little.

"Oh, but you are." He took a step closer to you, broad shoulders branching out to appear more intimidating. "Need I remind you that you stepped foot in the car not even two days ago? A rookie stays a rookie until they prove themselves worthy of the road."

"You think you're the shit, don't you?"

"And you are?" he chuckled darkly. "You don't have the guts for it. Why don't you go back to being daddy's little spoiled princess, driving plastic cars, since it's very obvious you can't drive a real one?"

Naozumi had a talent at making sure his words drove straight to their recipient, cutting deeper than intended, at times with a purpose more painful than the edge of a knife could do damage.

But words were empty to you. You trained yourself not to believe the little white lies and rumors people tried to feed you to stay as far away from letting it affect you as possible. This was just another one of those confrontations meant to throw you off and undo the steps you've already done on the climb towards the top.

Hard pass on downgrading. But nice try.

"At least I'm not the idiot that wrecked the car in the easiest turn in the whole region just yesterday, driving it full speed with an engine failure only to blame it on my team. It takes real skill to pull that off."

His jaw ticked with fresh blood. You definitely ticked a nerve with that. If you're throwing knives at each other, might as well throw them deep just for the funk of it.

"At least I didn't get a DNF and a DNS first time on the job. Your father may have put that winning image in your head to motivate you, but if you think it will be that easy, you're wrong. You will always be a rookie and there's nothing you can do to help it."

If that was supposed to make it hurt more, boohoo, it missed it's mark. Kinda late to the pity party. Might invite you next time.

"Oh, you're one to talk," you scoffed incredulously. "You're nothing without your team and you can't even see that. What's gonna happen when they all walk out and leave you stranded to work on the car all by yourself? Will you magically pay your way out of it by hiring other people?"

"That's none of your business," he hissed.

"Real drivers help their team," you growled.

You were overtaken by a sense of kinship for your team stronger than anything the world could say or throw at you. He probably knew nothing about what it means to make constant sacrifices for something you love body and soul. But he sure had the nerve to come and preach it to you like a total hypocrite since the rules of normal society apparently don't apply to him but they do to everyone else.

"You don't get to tell me how to be a driver," he shot back, tone becoming more menacing with every word.

"And you don't get to trample all over my hard work. My team's hard work. Don't talk to me about privilege when you're living off it just fine."

You didn't even notice you closed the distance to him, getting right up in his face, seeping into his space once more, this time with a different kind of savagery - one that felt a lot like unleashing chaos. You were a brief remark away from spearing your claws out for some physical atoning.

"You don't know shit," he growled, towering over you. "So I suggest you to back the fuck off."

"Or what?," you gritted back.

The corner of his lip turned up with a dark wicked smirk, a warning pledge of fast approaching colossal disaster, just like the words rumbling out of his throat, low and deep like thunder.

"I'll make sure the rest of your time here," he paused, raven eyes boring into yours with intensity before he whispered the last words a mere breath away from your lips, "is a living hell."

A living hell?

I'm already living hell, pretty boy.

You simply chuckled at that. He had no idea that you laughed in the face of danger. He must have thought you were crazy for it. It took more than a threat to steer your wheels in that direction. The direction of sin.

His head tilted in slight confusion at your reaction, though his eyes never left their furious fire behind. You quipped a brow, silently accepting his challenge, wondering just how far he could go to prove a point and preserve his pride in the face of a mere rookie.

"I'd like to see you try."

"You're gonna regret this."

This man loved to make enemies with everyone. But he picked the wrong person to start the fight with. Unfortunately for him and his loud wrathful thunder, vengeful lightning always strikes twice. Always.

"We'll see about that."

Not another word came out of his mouth. But you knew better than to accept his silence as a retreat. His mouth curved, a devilish grin over it, as if he already started devising a wicked little plan in his head to pull the earth from under your feet when you weren't looking.

Regarding you with one more look full of hatred, he pulled back, walking off to his pen.

Little did he know, he just met his match.

Regrets... you had many for yourself. But you were sure as hell that him of all people was the last one to add to them.

Never in a million years would you let that happen.

I wouldn't wish hell upon anyone. Especially mine. But if I had the choice to curse one person in the whole wide world right now...

I would curse him in a heartbeat.

You were sitting outside the pen, glaring at Naozumi's back, until Tanaka called out to you.

"Raiko. The oil has drained out.," he said, stopping in his tracks. "What are you doing out here?"

Googling ways to overcome your enemies with the power of forced distance.

"Nothing," you scoffed, heading back inside.

Time to get dirtier than my soul.

Taking your place back under the car, you worked on changing the oil filter with a new one. Screwing off the old filter entirely by hand, the leftover oil spilled everywhere again. At least there wasn't that much left in the basin to really stain anything.

It would've been nice not to have to do this with your bare hands, but you've been Mr. Hinode's human flashlight enough to know that the filter can only be tightened by a bare hand to make sure it's in the right spot and that none of it can leak out.

"Could you hand me a filter wrench?"

"Here," popped in Akio's head, who now became your human flashlight.

"Thanks."

A little shimmying and the old broken filter finally popped out with the rest of the oil leaking out down your arms. The last drop fell on your forehead. A good luck omen? We shall see.

Passing it to Akio, you motioned to him to shine some light on the broken filter. You noticed the head gasket was indeed damaged.

"Is the new filter ready and rubbed with oil yet?"

"Yep. Good to go?"

"Yeah."

Checking the engine block with the flash light one more time to make sure there weren't any other bits or parts stuck inside, you tried putting the new filter in. You struggled to make it do inside the engine block, moving down a little farther under the car. Not a fun thrill to experience with a ton hanging above you lifted by a tool weighing less.

Please don't crush me, hun. I drive you but I can assure you that you don't want to drive me.

Spinning the part to the right, you finally got it in, puffing out a breath. You screwed it on until you felt it stop turning. You gave it another spin with your hand before you tightened it with a wrench the rest of the way.

"We should be good to go now. Pour the motor oil in."

One of the mechanics poured the oil in on top. You waited to see if any of it would still leak out only to see none.

The new oil filter was successfully attached.

Well fuck me, I just did that.

Rolling out from under the car, you breathed out a sigh of relief as the team started applauding you and howling your name out of nowhere.

"Raiko! Raiko! Raiko!"

"Oh, shut the fuck up."

They all laughed at your antics. Tanaka and Sentaro pulled you up as the rest threw their cloths at you to send you to shower. Your team kit was sticking to you like you just took a dip in an oil lake, save for the sweat rolling down your back. That one belonged to you.

"You smell as bad as the car after a day on track and I'm saying that in the nicest way possible," said Akio.

"Haha, really funny," you laughed, throwing some of the cloths back with oil stains. "If I had a hose I would drench you all. Don't tempt me."

Little did you know that someone came around to check out what the ruckus next door was about. He watched you from the sidelines, running around to smear the oil on your hands on whoever landed in your range of attack. Most of them didn't even move, welcoming your attack with defeated smiles. The corner of his lip tilted up in a delighted grin at the scene.

Maybe I underestimated her.

"Everything's got the green light, right?"

"Yes, Raiko," Tanaka reassured you for the hundredth time since you stepped in the car. "All other car checks came out good. Stop stressing."

"I'm not stressing."

Well, you kinda were since you lost a lot of points by retiring from the first stage. You needed a clear head before the race and after today it just wasn't happening. You fixed the car before it was time to race, but if you didn't do right by this one, you could kiss any advancement ahead in the series goodbye.

"You saved us today. Any other driver would've ripped their contract to pieces in front of the team if they had to get anywhere near motor oil."

"I think you're forgetting I'm not just any driver," you smirked, pulling your helmet on. "Let's do this shit."

You went out there and enjoyed it for the first time this weekend. Your run was smoother than anything else today. The corners were mostly wide, mid-range turns, and the car felt great with the new oil change. It would be another 3000 miles before you had to change it again and hopefully, the filter would last longer than that.

Even Tanaka seemed to enjoy himself. He didn't reach for the door handle not even once like he was used to whenever he was in the car with you. You did accelerate faster in some turns watching his hand come up halfway only to stop and retract back.

"6 left 100. Flat out."

One hundred meters left to the widest corner left in the race.

Come to mamma.

The dirt flew up in the air behind you, leaving a trail of dust on each side. You dove closer to the left where the stands were, taking the last corner with a large drift that rose up huge clouds of sand from your rear. You heard the roars of the crowd before the puckers from the slide over the gravel, all getting lost in the rave music booming through the speakers.

This is what racing was about. Leaving it all in the hands of the wheel for two minutes where the world quieted down. Being on a one track mind.

Once every driver went for their run, you sat on the hood with the rest of the team waiting for the final update of the track times. You chewed your lip in thinking, tapping your foot on the floor.

I hope all those sacrifices weren't in vain. We all worked way too hard to fall off the track right now. We need this right now.

The scoreboard loaded to display the first three names and all heads perked forward. No one spoke. Not even the wind dared to rustle a banner.

1st place - Naozumi Hiyama - Spica Racing Factory

2nd place - Akira Shinkai - Sigma Racing

3rd place - Takatoshi Tohira - YM Works

Naozumi's ego was strong today. He just so managed to bag podium after that whole show of arrogance. Fucker. Pushing your annoyance for the man away, you focused back on the board.

Come on, load faster.

4th place - Katsumi Ishibashi - Top Rank

I can kiss top five for Tour de Tokai goodbye. So long world.

5th place - Raiko Suruki - Suruki Racing

What the fuck-

Loud cheers erupted all around you like the national football team just won the World Cup. That was totally impossible but you did it. You placed in the first point rankings. You were in top five! Still far away from the podium, but at least you didn't fall off the scoreboard.

Before you even said anything, the screen updated to display the Drivers Championship standings so far.

1. Akira Shinkai - Sigma Racing - 61 pts

2. Naozumi Hiyama - Spica Racing Factory - 53 pts

3. Neil Emerton - Cusco Racing - 47 pts

4. Takatoshi Tohira - YM Works - 38 pts

5. Fairuz Badawi - Eliot Racing - 31 pts

6. Katsumi Ishibashi - TOP RANK - 28 pts

7. Raiko Suruki - Suruki Racing - 25 pts

"It's not much, but they're good points," said Tanaka, patting you on the back. "Amazing work today, lightning strike."

Turning back to everyone, you called out to them. The team gave you their full undivided attention. Your team. Most of these people saw you grow up from a rowdy teenager into the driver you are today. They were more than your team. They were your extended family. You owed them everything.

"I know dad's not here today, but someone has to do the honorary speech" you clapped your hands together, trying to will some normal words out.

"I wouldn't have been able to get out there without you guys. You're the reason this team works like oiled parts, no pun intended."

Some of them laughed at that. You happened to have your father's humor.

"I know there's no podium celebration for us this time, but I will work even harder to bring it to you soon. For now, please rest up, eat well and stay safe. The Fuji Highland Masters round is nearby so we need to get in the gear for it soon."

"Raiko! Raiko! Raiko!"

"Guys, please stop," you giggled, suddenly flustered at all the attention. "Come on, go home. Before the organizers kick us out."

Grabbing your duffel bag with your things, you went back to the race banner. You pulled out your phone and took a photo of it and a selfie.

Your career officially started. It was a rocky start and the climb up to even get a chance at podium was even rockier. But you were willing to fight for it with your teeth.

Suruki Racing was born again this weekend and you were planning to keep it alive for longer than it has before.

Turning around, you cast a look at the podium. Naozumi just received his trophy, smashing the champagne bottle to spray the crowd. That million dollar smile was back on his face, wider and brighter than you've seen it. It almost looked real. Among all that lust for fame and money in his blood, he looked like he fit right in with the haze of celebration. Like he was made to be a winner.

On the other side of the podium, Akira lifted his 2nd place trophy too, fully enjoying the squeals from his fans. You didn't know what came over you, but you pulled your phone out to snap a picture of both of them for safekeeping.

Spotting you on the side about to leave, Akira took off in your direction. His hand tugged on your arm to spin you around.

"Hey!"

"Hey, you," you smiled. "Second place, huh?"

He looked down at the trophy with a small smile, not really reaching his eyes like usual.

"Yeah. Not my best drive but it's alright."

"Could say the same."

"Are you coming to the party?"

"The famed afterparty on Naozumi's yacht?" You looked back at the podium, watching him throw the champagne bottle down his throat, spilling everywhere on his suit in the process. "No, thanks. I'll pass."

"He wants everyone on the grid there. Though I would much rather not go, my agent said it's good publicity. To tame the media after that stunt today or something like that. So, come with me."

After declaring each other mortal enemies, you wanted nothing to do with Naozumi at all. Not even being in his range of view. Going to a party, on his yacht, in the middle of a body of water was the last thing you needed.

"I'll think about it."

A staff member came to pull him away for a quick press interview. He seemed adamant to leave but you waved him off. You were in need of a shower before the mud became one with your skin.

"I have to go," he pressed his lips together in a smile, dimples popping on the sides. "See you back in Tokyo?"

"Sure."

Would going to that party be so bad? I could definitely use some alcohol and if it's free, why the hell not? He must have expensive alcohol on board. I can let my pride go for a free drink.

There was no lie that Tokyo's skyline looked so magical at night, especially on a yacht ride down the central river. Skyscrapers stretched out into the sky, multicolored lights blinking back at you with sparkles. The rich really had this superb view every night and they barely took a ride here if it wasn't for business purposes.

At least yours truly knows how to pick a party location.

Speaking of the man of the hour, you counted about eight girls around him from your secluded spot at the bar. You could hear their high-pitched voices all the way there, asking him all kinds of questions about himself and the car. He just hummed in response to all of them, focusing his attention elsewhere.

If today wasn't so shit and he didn't literally declare war to you, you might have just been a tad bit happy for him. The most you mustered was a mumbled congratulations when you boarded the ship. He just passed you a grin and left it at that.

He doesn't deserve my cheerfulness. He gets it from the world enough as it is. Plus the fact that he invited everyone on his yacht just in spite.

None of the drinks at the bar were for free and most were too expensive for your pocket, so you had to drink a mocktail. Even his hospitability was in mocking.

More girls scooched closer to get a piece of him, tanned arms and bare legs brushing up against him from all sides. He didn't even seem to be bothered in the slightest that his space was being taken up. But he did mind when it was you doing it.

"Then let's make a toast again!"

"Cheers!"

"Congratulations on being the champion!"

The girls cheered and clinked glasses, sipping on the expensive champagne. He joined on the clinking too, though he didn't drink with them, keeping his glass aside.

His eyes drifted from the champagne glass in his hand to you. The small smile on his face turned into a smirk of provocation. A smirk that went right to the epicenter of your rage. He came to kindle that fire again.

Before you knew it, you made a beeline through the crowd stopping right in front of his table. The girls shot you disapproving looks, sizing you up and down in every way they wanted. Picking apart your messy, tousled hair. Your tomboy outfit. Some even mumbled something about your nails not being in fashion. You shot them a look and they stopped looking at you altogether.

Naozumi just regarded you with a knowing look, averting his eyes to the water surrounding the boat in dismissal. You just stood there with your arms crossed, waiting for him to stop his passive ignorance.

"Got something to say to me, rookie?"

Would he explode if he just called me by my name?

"I do actually."

"Then," he extended a hand around one of the girls getting more comfortable with her. She snuggled into his body, giddiness taking over her for getting so close to him. You could feel the jealousy oozing off the other girls, waiting for their turn. "Let's hear it."

He really does have a thing for public humiliation.

Akira stepped beside you, lightly pulling at the sleeve of your leather jacket to get you away from trouble. Little did he know you loved trouble more than anything in the world. Especially when it involved a certain know-it-all with an annoyingly handsome face.

"Rai, let's go," he muttered, aware that some people turned around to watch the scene. "You're better than him. Don't give him the satisfaction."

"I wasn't talking to you, Shinkai," spat Naozumi, not once lifting his eyes away from you. Not even when the girl at his side caressed the side of his neck with obvious want. "Go lick the boots of your own team principal."

"Talk, rookie. Or did the cat get your tongue?"

You want war on and off track, Naozumi?

You have it.

The words were out of your mouth in a heartbeat, not one thought behind them. Nothing but the sole need to see how he would react to being challenged publicly.

"Let's settle it on the road. You and me. Our cars back at the docks."

An illegal race on the streets of Tokyo. Might as well be career suicide for some. But you had way too hanging by a thread, while he only had his pride. Taking that away would be like shoving him off his throne and sitting on it like it was yours.

Best case scenario, you win and leave him with a shattered ego.

Worst case scenario, you lose or end your career.

The only good thing was that the odds were in no one's favour out there on the road. It took skill to win an illegal race in a city that was built up on street racing of the highest stakes.

"What does the winner get?"

"Always so set on winning, aren't you? Would losing something dim your small manly pride?"

His tongue pushed his cheek in the same annoyed manner it would at his brother reprimanding him for being incapable of listening to simple directions.

"That's between you and me," you added, settling on making this as private as you could.

The sudden realization was written all over his face. He knew what you were referring to since you threw his very own words back at him.

"A rookie stays a rookie until they prove themselves worthy of the road."

Ripples of gasps echoed around you, people already murmuring things about you. Until the rumors started being directed at Naozumi and his ability to drive. It was time for him to prove himself worthy of the crowd as well.

Naozumi sat back swirling the champagne in his glass until the liquid was left without bubbles. He seemed to give it a good thought.

There was that curiosity dancing in his eyes again. The same rush of novelty measuring up on your very own. He wanted to know where you would take this if he gave you the chance.

"Fine by me," he said, taking you up on your offer.

Shaking off the female arms circled around him, he got up and threw back that glass of champagne emptying it in one go, before calling out to the captain to turn the boat around. He walked to you, stopping mere steps away from you.

"Where?"

"The hill over there down to the docks. No time cuts, no tricks."

"You shouldn't drive after drinking," you remarked.

He smirked, taking one more step towards you. "Are you worried about me, princess?"

"No," you said, taking one step in his direction.

One more step from each of you and you were chest to chest, facing off like it was a real battle for the very pride of driving. People made a circle around you, staying away from the tension already wafting through the air.

He bent down to your ear. "To settle your worries, it was non-alcoholic champagne. But don't let them know. I keep my alcohol for the big wins."

He really was the biggest asshole on the planet.

The two of you were the first to get off the boat and find your cars, driving them up the top of the hill with some of the crowd from the yacht following right behind. It would be a drive down through traffic and tight corners but it looked much more doable than the roads you've driven through today.

You heard his car purring before he pulled up next to you turning in your seat to gawk at it - a midnight blue R8, a beast of a car compared to yours.

It was an older model, so overpacked with modifications it made your head spin. Nothing on that car looked like it belonged on it and you had a hunch that long hood curving over the engine held a lot more mysteries than the outside body of the car.

He rolled down his window, leaning a hand over it to check yours out too. He scanned it back to front and from the twinge in his lips, he appeared impressed by your weapon of choice. Who wouldn't gape at it when yours was a collection car worth more than three of his yachts together.

"Veilside RX-7. Not bad for a rookie."

He sounded genuinely respectful.

"Thanks."

"I'll give you a five seconds head start," he added.

"I think you could use them a lot more than me," you shot back.

He revved his V8 engine, roaring it to life like a lion looking to claim his rightful throne. You did the same, revving your V6 longer to prepare it for the sprint race. Your engine missed two cylinders and some horsepower but yours had way better grip on the road. Though small compared to his speed intake, you had a shot at winning this.

He was big and wide, a monster under the hood but one that got swallowed on serpentine roads like the one that awaited you. It was a show car. It wasn't made for racing. That and your car was smaller and bunchier, meaning you were able to whizz through corners much faster if needed.

He can't beat me at what I know best.

I was born with the drift in my veins.

And illegal street racing?

Not my first rodeo, pretty boy.

Someone walked to the front stopping between your cars. It was the blonde woman from last night. Shorts that were shorter than your lifespan climbed up her buttocks, joined by a tank top that hugged her boobs better than any of your bras could. A checkered flag hang in her hand, getting rustled by the cool night breeze.

"Not too late to back out," he piped up.

"See you at the finish line. That is if you can keep up," you said, rolling up your window to avoid more of his attitude from seeping inside your car.

You cast a look down to your right at the docks then turned back around to the road.

On second thoughts, Tokyo's skyline looks way better from up here.

The blonde rolled her hand with the flag calling out a count and holding up her fingers. The crowd cheered behind you, already getting gassed by the fumes burning out through the exhausts.

"Three."

It's not about how fast you go.

You revved the engine loud, feeling the car shake with the raw horsepower under the hood.

"Two."

It's about how long you go fast.

Throwing a look at Naozumi, you caught him looking right back at you, that shit-eating grin back on his face.

Fast like lightning.

"GO!"

The flag barely hit the floor when you pressed the gas like a madman. His extra horsepower propelled him a few meters ahead of you. You kept close on his tail, letting him take the tight corners before you so he felt it on his own skin that this wasn't the type of road to get cocky on. Not with a million dollar car like his.

Passing the first two corners, he moved to the middle of the road to cover more ground. He must have realized his car takes way too much space to even drift. And this was a drifting road.

The next corner gave him an opening to shift gears and drift. You went on the outside, trying to overtake him but he was way too wide to get past. You needed a wider corner.

Moving around a rocky hillside, you noticed the road barriers curving down into a wider path, less narrow with more flow.

Naozumi slowed down, reducing his drift angle in the process, rear jerking in a light drift. That's my cue. You pulled the hand brake, pressed down the clutch then quickly stabbed the gas, turning the steering to the left. Accelerating, you flew past him, sliding in front of his car over the middle of the road, slick and smooth like butter on a hot frying pan.

The next turn was just as wide. He accelerated trying to get past you and he almost did if you didn't know him any better. You took the drift faster than him, with the risk of letting the car skid off the road. The tyres screeched loudly at the excess of pressure. Thinking fast, you dropped in the clutch moving down in second gear, finding the sweet spot where the rotations aligned and swerved left into another perfect drift. The roaring growl of the engine was music to your ears.

This is how you drive a car, baby.

A few more turns and you skidded out into intense night traffic. The move from rough to slick asphalt sent your rear wide in the middle of an intersection, passing a red light and being honked at from all sides of the intersection. Naozumi followed right behind you, mere meters away from smashing into your tail lights if you slowed down in the slightest.

You entered a tunnel, whizzing past city cars as fast as you could, overtaking them in fast twisting zig zags. Going back down the hill of the main road, he slid in beside you, pushing the car to its limits to close the gap to you. You didn't let off either, dropping down another gear to rev the engine and push past him.

The docks were just a few blocks away. So close.

Police sirens howled loudly in the distance. One look in the rearview mirror and sure enough the red and blue lights shone bright behind you, heading for you and Naozumi.

Three more police cars pulled up two blocks down, trying to block the street and the two of you from passing through. You shot him a quick look he shared with you, fully aware that this was going to get messy. He threw his head to the blocks on the side, wanting to take the longer route and go around. You laughed at that, turning back ahead.

Go hide, Naozumi. I like to face things head on. You should try it sometimes.

Pressing the gas pedal to increase the speed, you slid in front of him and went through fast. The hands on your speedometer went past 120 kmph. If the officers didn't want to get crushed, they had to pull away. But they didn't. Not that you wanted them to.

You cut the gas, tapped the clutch and steered left really tight, drifting down the lane of the street that was left unguarded. You held on tight to the wheel to stay in control of the car as the force pushed you into the door. Your tyres skidded with a screech at the amount of power, but you drifted into that lane and got the car back around straight, leaving the law enforcement behind you.

Two hundred meters in, you repeated the same maneuver this time to the right and steering wide, diving into another turn down the street, completely losing them. The farther away you got, the less you could hear the sirens. They didn't follow.

One thing about police here: they didn't give a fuck if they didn't stop you on the first try. With the amount of street races around Tokyo at night, they gave up on speeding tickets too. If you can do better than one-eighty they can't catch you. They just liked showing up for some ruckus for people to know they were worth their taxes.

Naozumi slowed down behind you, unable to understand how you got away. He followed your drift on the stretch, miscalculating how wide and low he was as his wheels got up on the sidewalk, scraping his front bumper in the process.

Circling around the last blocks with him in tow, he raced up to you, catching speed until he reached you again.

Now it was finally head to head.

Eight hundred meters stood between his dignity and your career getting knocked off and thrown into the river. None of you backed off, increasing the speed to inhumane limits. Not even the rally cars went this fast. The tyres gripped the asphalt hard, engine thundering under the hood, wheel quivering in your hold the faster you drove.

Five hundred meters.

On your left, his R8 got closer, trying to take away from your ascent. A lower portion going under a bridge came up ahead with a tight corner between the pillars. You veered under it, drifting with his car at the same time. He took the inside pushing you off into the rocky sidewalk as payback for his scratched bumper. Your rear wheel caught onto it, swaying the car off the road. The tremors shook your seat the more you drove over the rocks and you managed to get off it just before you smashed into the pillar, sliding back on the road.

Motherfucker.

You pushed the car even faster to catch up to him. You played fair and square and he was pulling tricks. Fairplay was in the trash at this point when it comes to him. What was worse was that you expected more, but maybe that was a mistake.

Three hundred meters.

The size of a football stadium stood between you and the finish line. The docks were now in view, tall and shabby warehouses littered on the sides of the road. Time for Plan B.

Just because I don't have one between my legs doesn't mean I can't act like a dick too.

You let go of the throttle, slowing down to fall behind him and tailed him, sticking to his end like a leech. He liked to play dirty. At least he could have a taste of his own medicine.

He tried to shake you off, going in chicanes and slowing down in the process. He was growing impatient and it showed because you weren't letting off his tail not in even a little, keeping close to his end. If you had more horsepower you could've kissed his back bumper for shits and giggles.

He tried his hardest to lose you, turns getting Once he steered right really wide, you took the opening and accelerated, speeding through ahead and leaving him behind. You turned to wave at him with a smile as you passed by, bolting through to the end.

You whizzed past the redhead waving the checkered flag, getting the crowd yelling as you drifted around them, lifting some of the dust up in the air as you did some victorious doughnuts. Naozumi pulled up behind you and you circled him a few times before you stopped in front of him.

That dark look in his eyes was full of hatred just a few hours ago. Now, it turned furious with rage, pride absolutely shattered. He took a gamble on your inexperience and he lost the game he started so confident in his own powers.

Everyone rushed to your car to cheer on you. You got out shocked at the crowd pooling in. Akira bolted through the endless mob of people, reaching you and bringing you in a bone-crushing hug you couldn't help but melt in.

"That was batshit crazy! We could see everything from down here."

"I know," your voice came out muffled from being tucked in his shoulder. "I can't believe I did that."

"Well," he pulled apart to hold onto your shoulders, "believe it 'cause you absolutely just did that."

The crowd started chanting your name and you couldn't help the giddiness overtaking your senses. Some of those people were either drivers or really famous and they were calling out your name with excitement.

You might have fallen off the track today but you won the crowd tonight. This was yours to enjoy fully and no one could take it away from you. You earned it. You proved that you belonged on the road.

Naozumi finally cut the engine off. He slumped back in his seat for a moment before he got out to inspect the damage on the front of his car. You walked over to him to see him threading his fingers over the scratched paint stretching over to a dent, covering a good part of the corner in front of the right wheel.

"That looks nasty," you said.

He shot you a look filled with hatred. That graze looked worse than nasty could describe and from how he grinded his teeth in annoyance, it looked like it was entirely your fault in his head.

Not one word was uttered between him getting back in his car and speeding away, leaving his victory celebration for you to enjoy.

I think I scratched his ego too.

Akira slid in beside you, eyes trained on the back of his car, watching it drift away until you could no longer see it.

"Is it wrong that I feel bad for him?"

"Nah, you earned this. He's just complicated." Then he paused, rotating to you. "Frankly, I don't think anyone threw him off his high horse this hard before. Not even me," he said with a grin, happy at Naozumi's demise.

Maybe he was right. Naozumi was a really complicated person. But the more you faced each other on and off track, the more you got to know more about him. And the more your hands inched closer to unravel that puzzle on the shelf with his name on it.

One thing was for sure.

After today's events, that plastic foil on his puzzle box was entirely gone. And one of your dying curiosities was satisfied tonight.

You now knew what made Naozumi tick.

And it wasn't losing.

🏎️Glossary of terms and other useful information 🏎️

The Points - Points in rally get awarded on a top 10 places basis. Depending on the placement at the end of the final stage, the score one gets differs. First place can get as high as 25 points, while tenth place gets only one point. *The last stage is called the Power Stage, giving drivers in top five extra points in the overall standings.

Drivers Championship standings - The overall points gathered over the course of all rounds. If you're familiar with F1, it is the equivalent to the Drivers' World Championship standings.

Downshift - One of Raiko's favourite things. Changing gears from an upper one to an inferior one, where the car revs up before it speeds up. Also the sweet spot where the rotations align and the engine roars.

Next

Thank you for reading! Please leave a note, comment or reblog :)

Taglist: @ellisaworld @howimeetyoukit @jonnelpunk @nadlx33333

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for not taking my cat with me when I eventually move?

For some context, I(f,22) live in an apartment that connects to the house of my parents through the garden and the basement. I have lived here since I was 17, pay rent, utilities and all my groceries so I basically live alone, just that I can visit my family basically whenever. Our family has a small dog and 3 cats, all of the animals can move freely through the entire house and also go outside if they want (I know outside cats are a problem, it was not my decision nor can I change the situation bc these are not only my cats).

My boyfriend (m,23) and me are planning on moving out next year-ish and I was not planning on taking the cat that is technically mine. She was adopted from a farm when I was around 16, I was really depressed, self-harming, had an ed blah blah, so my mom actually agreed that I could get a kitten. My cat has helped me immensely through really tough times but she is a little bit... wild. When she wants to play she can bite and scratch quite hard, she scares the other cats and the dog and sometimes pees on rugs and other stuff. She is also an absolute sweetheart and super cuddly and funny, I have zero problems with her behaviors myself because I know when she is getting frustrated I have to give her some space, I never scream at her when she does accidentally hurt me while playing, she never pees in my apartment, I only scold her when she attacks the other cats (she only wants to play but the other cats are older and dont want to). I feel like if I write it down like that she does sound kind of like a nightmare but bad incidents happen very rarely and she has gotten a lot calmer with her age. So the problem is now that my mom wants me to take her with me when I move, which I would totally get if she wouldn't have said the exact opposite before. My mom always said that I shouldn't take my cat with me when I move because she needs to stay in her home, she has got the other cats (even tho they don't really like each other but sometimes they hang out or play), the garden and a forest, a really quiet neighborhood with no cars and a big house where there is always somebody home. If I would take her with me she would be in a relatively small apartment, probably couldn't go outside (I would move from a small town to the city), no other cats and so on. I feel like my mom just wants to punish me and my cat for some reason. For her/ my family it's not much more work and they have been feeding and caring for her since we got her (together with me of course) because even though she is technically mine she was more of a family cat from the beginning. I also would pay for everything vet, food, toys whatever. I don't even really understand why she seems to hate her so suddenly, I get it's super frustrating and gross when she pees somewhere but it's also an animal you can't make them understand reason and it doesn't happen frequently, also she is not the only cat that pees sometimes so I don't get why with her it seems to be such a problem. I know she is my responsibility and if it is really such an issue I will take her with me and try to make her the best life possible but I feel like it is so unnecessary. When I got her I was only 16 and not mature enough to realize what it means to have a pet, I also feel like my mom knew that i was not in the right mind to make decisions like that, i could barely take care of myself and was definitely not thinking even 2 years ahead. I always felt like it was an unspoken agreement that my cat was like all the other family cats just a little more mine. And it wasn't even really unspoken because she literally has said that I shouldn't take her with me because it would make my cat depressed. My mom also tells me to move out so she can rent out the apartment at a higher price, so it's not her way of making me stay at home. I also want to mention that my family treats all of the animals really well and my cat would not be in any danger if I would leave her home.

What are these acronyms?

[yellowroseswrites]

Hi, I was wondering if you could write a fic about Spencer Reid x sh/ed reader. The reader is very insecure because she feels like she used to be smart but isn't anymore and maybe after failing a case she starts harming herself again.

I was also wondering if you could include

that she wears a watch all the time

that she tends to cut small cuts on her fingers because she can blame them on other things and often digs her nails into them when anxious

has a good relationship with family so she feels her actions are unjustified

Spencer and reader are friends but shes always thought of him as more

I totally understand if this isn't possible and thank you.

"I want to help you carry it."

Spencer Reid x Sh!BAU!Reader

Author's notes- [ “has a good relationship with her family so she feels her actions are unjustified’ called me out personally and i need emotional compensation /j. Sorry these pieces have taken so long, a lot of my requests have been sh related and i wasn’t in the right headspace until recently, i hope you understand and i hope you enjoy this piece <3 also this is taken quite far from the prompt, so i’m sorry about that. I’ll definitely try to write more with reid and sh reader, so i’ll try to follow the request a bit more closely next time]

TW- {Self harm mentions, not super graphic, but it is a bit detailed, mentions of kidnapping and su!c!de (briefly), Eating habits mentioned, but not detailed at all, disassociation scenes, 2 of them i think, use of y/n}

1.2k words, enjoy

You looked down at your watch, watching the second hand tick all the way around the circle, desperately trying not to look up. If you looked up, all you would see is the dissapointed face of your best friend, Spencer.

You were sat on a stool near his kitchen counter. Usually if you were sitting here, there would be laughter and smiles, maybe pizza or some freshly baked cupcakes, but this was different. You only ever saw Reid like this once, when he sat you down to talk to you about your eating habits. You swore you would never do anything that would make him that upset again. You never wanted him to worry about you. He had enough on his plate, you would only be a burden. And yet, here you are.

You thought you were hiding it well, to be honest you really were. You never let anything slip, not a wince, not a complain, nothing. No one knew a thing, until today.

You were finishing a case, a rough one if you’re being honest. There was a young girl, one with scars everywhere, self inflicted. Everyone thought she had killed herself, except you and Reid. You both fought hard to find the girl. The team did end up finding her, she was trapped in some freaks attic. The case was closed, she was found, it was fine. You told yourself it was fine, you did your best to convince yourself that it didn’t bother you. It wasn’t until you were filling out your case reports that you finally let yourself dwell on it. You could hear Derek’s voice so clearly in your head, “Is it possible that she took her own life? It’s clear she has suicidal tendencies.” Even after JJ and Hotch explained the complexities of non-suicidal self injury, his words still rang in your head. You dont even know why it bothered you. I wasn’t judgmental, it wasn’t disrespectful, it wasn’t even a bad theory, but it rattled you. It’s like you could perfectly imagine them talking about you like that, like you were nothing but your habits. You knew that wasn’t how Morgan meant it, he was doing his job, you would do the same for any other case, but this one just stung.

As you thought about it, you faded into your mind. It’s like you weren’t even there at your desk, you were inside your head. Your nails found there way to your other hands knuckles. You were good at hiding the marks, and it was easy to lie about them. They were your hands, anyone would believe that you just knicked them, or got them stuck in your car door, or that your neighbors cat was a playful fella, or the countless other excuses you had saved in your resevoir. You never hurt youself in public, or when people could catch you, except today apperently. Your finger was red and bleeding by the time you snapped out of your haze. Or rather, was rudely dragged out of our haze by Spencer. You blinked a few times as you focused on him and what he was saying.

“Y/n stop that.” His hands were on yours. You were frozen for a second, your mind almost buffering, before the reality of that moment actually dawned on you. Without speaking a word you pulled your hands back and stoop up from your desk.

You grabbed your bag, sliding your unfinished report into your desk drawer, before beginning to walk off, “Good work Spence, I’ll see you tommorow.” You made your way to the elevator, ttrying to avoid the obvious footsteps following you. He put his hand on your shoulder as you made your way out of the building, gently guiding you to his car. You didn’t fight it, you knew you couldn’t, and you would really rather not make a scene in your work parking lot. You listened to the hum of his car air conditioner as he drove the all familiar route to his appartment. 

That’s how you ended up here. A few warm tears falling down your cheeks while Spencer silently stares at your shrunken figure. He was trying to find the words that he wanted to say, which was never a good thing. He was the Spencer Reid, he always knew what to say. 

He finally cleared his throat, after what felt like ages, “Non-suicidal self injury is a habitual addiction, but it’s possible to recover from it. You just have to tell someone about it, that’s step one. That’s always been step one. We’ve talked about this.”

“I know Spence. I’m sorry.” Your voice was small. You felt small compared to your all knowing best friend. You knew everything there was to know about self harm, sometimes it was the only thing you wanted to read about or learn about, sometimes you felt like it was the only thing you knew about,  but you knew this was how Reid helped, so you tried to stay calm as you let him tell you everything that you already had memorized. 

“We’re friends y/n, you can talk to me.”

You huffed at that, mumbling a small, “Yea friends.”

“You’re deflecting.” He sounded softer, you hurt him. You were deflecting, and now you feel worse than you did before. You hated this, you wanted to go home and relive this day. Your nails started to sink into the skin on your thigh.

“Why do you keep doing that?” Great, Spencer saw. Spencer knows. Spencers going to think your insane, he’s going to talk about you like your a victim. He’s going to talk to you like a baby and look at you like your bleeding out in front of him. He’s never going to think about you the way you think of him, your just some charity case for him. He doesn’t -

His hand grabs yours, taking it away from your leg. Before your brain can catch up with you, your arms are wrapped around him, pressing your face into his torso. Your tears are falling more freely now. You feel his hands run through your hair and rub against your back. You never feel more safe than you do when your in his arms, your thoughts can’t catch you here. 

You aren’t sure how long you stay like that before you gently pull away from him. You sit patiently as he examines your hands. You can see the hurt in his eyes, you do your best to ignore it. 

“I love you, y/n. I don’t want you to do this to youself. You can get help for this. You can talk to me about it if you need to.” He was soft, but not condescending. You could feel yourself melt, as though you needed another reason to love him.

“I can’t do that, I’ll just be a burden. This isn’t your baggage to carry.” You started to pull away again.

“It’s still your baggage, I just want to help you carry it. Let me help you, please.” His voice pulled you right back in.

You wiped the remaining tears from your face, “Okay Spence.” He sighed in relief, taking your hands and leading you to the couch. You both sat, you resting your head against his chest. You didn’t have to talk about it now. You knew you would eventually, but that's another thing about Spencer, you felt comfortable. You didn’t feel anxious about the impending conversations to be had, you weren’t stressing about him watching you or knowing your secrets, you simply felt safe. That was enough for now.

[hedgionary]

GO ON ABOUT SHAMBALLA!!!! I have the same dilemma where I can’t just ignore it… it is so good and yet. So very. Ah…

Alright, so here we go! I may not be as sleep deprived and obsessive and I was when I wrote the first (now eternally lost, RIP) draft, but I'll do my best!

This post contains spoilers. So in case this showed up randomly on your dash and you intend to read it, please keep that in mind. I'll be going over literally everything that comes to my mind.

1. The length and what was cut

SO MUCH WAS LEFT UNEXPLORED! SO. DAMN. MUCH. START, MIDDLE AND ENDING.

Start

If they were going to cut so much anyway, why did they leave the whole castle sequence? I'm not saying it's not entertaining at all, ("Let's go. This whole place is about to blow up." "Brother, why?" "Because I don't like it >:]") it just seemed really detached from the rest of the movie. And considering how long it is, there could've been quite a bit of story packed into the space it took. That's not to say Edward with a fishbowl on his head wasn't funny.

Dunno how they found a lake that big in a landlocked country either.

Middle

Let's start with where the movie picks the main narrative. What exactly was Edward doing when he met Alfons? What was their relationship like? How bonkers did Alfons think Ed was exactly?

Mustang. Depressed Mustang. Riza having to deal with it. How bad has he gotten when even Hawkeye isn't by his side now? Team Mustang were also such a BIG part of the story. Their presence in CoS was definitely lacking. The scene in the North deserved to be longer though.

Envy my little blorbo, I want to put you in the Salad spinner. Both versions. Into the spinner, you. Is there another one of you on this side of the gate??? Would he, or they, have shown up in the life of the Elrics, possibly making it more difficult for the two of them than it already is? And as much as I hate to say it, Nazi Envy is still less annoying an idea than Hughes. The whole military cast all sad little war criminals anyway :[

Wrath. My baby was supposed to have more screentime :( Sure, his death would've been even more painful if he'd had it, but stilll, more Wrath content!!! That's always good!

Izumi's death. I've got more of a love-hate relationship with that woman than I have with the whole movie, and that's something. While I adore BH Izumi with every fibre of my being, '03 just... Rubs me the wrong way. It could've been such a painful scene. But still I get why they chose to do it off-screen.

Ed's fake arm and leg deserve more screentime. You can fight me on this one. While we did get the "This is a carnival! Go have some fun!" Scene for Ed's arm it was... That. And literally nothing else save for a quick shot of how he attached them. How did Hohenheim's replacement affect him? How many times did he assume it was metal and broken it? How delicate is it in comparison? Does his leg also require a pull-start, or is it constantly running? (Haha. Leg. Running. I'm so funny, I know.)

Eckhart get out. 🚪👈🏼 Seriously? After Dante? Now Dante was a Villain with a capital V. Eckhart? Maybe if she'd had enough time to stew on-screen. As it is, she's been stewing in our minds off-screen and getting progressively more pathetic as time goes by. Movie could've worked out without her being the way she is.

Ending

I. Hate. Open. Ambiguous. Endings. WDYM WE GET TO DECIDE WHAT HAPPENS? I DON'T WANT TO. I WANT TO SEE THE ELRICS BEING MESSY. FIGURING IT OUT. FINDING THAT BOMB THING. ALPHONSE WITH A GUN.

Because let's face it; we got Edward with a gun. He doesn't have alchemy anymore. I stand my case. Alphonse with a gun.

Also, hello? Scar and Lust? What could we get from that? Ed and Al both going "Noah, of all the people in the world, you had to find... Them." And just having to roll with it. (Don't let Ed drive. Please don't let Ed drive. What we didn't need was a third car crash and the repercussions of that.)

Most importantly. We all know of Ed's coping habit on this side of the gate. Did he manage to get out of that? Is Al gonna grow slowly aware of how different and broken his brother is? Depression doesn't go away just like that and Edward was already in a difficult place before the brothers were separated.

Something that irks me but probably shouldn't is the fact Shamballah didn't end on a train. Every other piece of Fullmetal media, be it the manga, Brotherhood, or the episodes of '03 ended with Ed on a train, looking out of the window. And then we have Shamballah where they're looking at... Scar, Lust and everyone else in that car. The only reason we know Ed and Al lived is that little OVA from 2005 that said Ed would be 100. And I don't remember if that even mentions what happened with Al.

2. Muuuussiiic

Just to think there could've been more of these treasures. "Alchemic World~Two Years Thereafter" being a variation of the first verse of Brothers. The silly little soundtracks like "Castle of Science Goes Kablooey" or "Automated Mechanical Arm"

Maybe an actual instrumental to "Kelas (Let's-Dance) not just an instrumental version that's a nightmare to attempt singing to. Seriously. It's easier a capella. If you have someone to sing it with, that is. (I don't)

"Requiem" during the funeralll. That track is just... Chef's kiss.

The last track to play is "Lost Heaven" and oh boy doesn't that pack a punch. While Amestris was not heaven, at least it wasn't torturing Ed psychologically 24/7 (Nazi Hughes will haunt me until the end of my days...)

I actually enjoy writing to the CoS soundtrack on random! Gives a weird mood to the story, but when writing scenes as wacky as I am currently... Definitely helpful!

3. Winry and Automail

More if her time with Edward. They didn't even get to say goodbye??? Also, how did she guess his size perfectly??? He is, after all, still short, even at eighteen years old. Poor boy.

Anyway. This doesn't even give me angst potential. They aren't even together long enough to talk, chat, let any feeling resurface. The whole Amestris sequence feels like a fever dream or a badly paced fanfic. I don't drop fics just because they're badly paced, even if I have to fill events in on my own. But a movie? Uhhhh. Yeah. Difficult.

They're just kind of accepting the fact the other exists as if they were benches in a park. "Oh cool. A new bench next to the monument. I'll come back tomorrow. Oh no, no more bench? Weird, but okay."

Edward came back? Cool. Let me give him new automail and skim over the fact he hasn't had any attached in years, so at least some of the nerves shouldn't be working quite right. Definitely not combat ready. Besides, I'm fairly sure Edward is out of practice. Who was he to spar with? Hohenheim's prosthetics were also definitely inferior to automail, meaning his fighting wasn't as good as it had been back home. The weight difference too. So that just felt weird. Even if I personally can't fight. Probably. Haven't tried. Aren't very fit though.

4. The knowledge that we will never know. It's been what, almost 20 years since this movie aired? We're never getting a canon sequel and I can't find a good fic that I can just confidently go "Yeah. That's what happened." to. That's not to say there aren't any that I've enjoyed, just none that feel close enough to canon to work.

Also the fact this has so much crossover potential that's, essentially, ignored. You have both Ed and Al here now. There's so many stories that happen or at least start in our world, having important events around the 1920s. And even if not, it's FANFICTION! You can give the most random excuses such as "Their ashes and dust cannot be laid to rest here, for this is not the earth that birthed them" and you'll have yourself immortal Elrics! Just phrase it poetic enough. Or go with the fact energy cannot be created or destroyed. By all means, there's too much energy here and too little there because of the boys crossing over. Idk. I should've failed physics years ago.

Anyway I wish we could get a redo. Either the three movies idea or the 13 episodes. I just wanna know.

5. Positives

I've been mainly going on about what I dislike in this movie, so let's go on what I did like!

Al. The little thing. Copying your older brother like that? Peak sibling energy. I wonder if you ever did it later just to mess with Ed. You're so much like your brother. Especially the BH au of him. You two would get along like a house on fire. Worse than Ed and Mustang. Al, you're adorable. Just a little critter. Also, memory problem buddy! Yay! I am glad you got them back though. You deserve it. Even if I do wonder how it changed your perspective on the past few years, remembering both your solo travels and the ones with Ed. Your voice was also really silly.

Noah. I liked Noah. I just did. Most of the time. Gave me Rose vibes. I also liked the music her appearance brought in.

Gracia. I liked the fact Gracia was there. I hope she and Maes made it work, maybe even had their own Elysia. Maybe even siblings for her :]

Edward's mental health. Although a heavy topic, I liked the fact the repercussions of being so far from home were shown.

The jokes. Although I haven't actually watched the whole thing in English, I quote this movie at my friends, much to the annoyance of the ones who aren't interested in Fullmetal. Even if I do translate them for conversation purposes.

THE WAY THE COLOURS ARE DIFFERENT IN OUR WORLD AND AMESTRIS. Our world having dark, faded colours. And then Al's bright cloak flashbangs you! Yay! Even when he moves worlds, the colours are a bit dulled.

I liked how Ed looked out of place in Amestris. That his hair wasn't as golden as it had been in the series, at least to my memory.

And yeah, I could go on, but I risk repeating and becoming illegible. I've also been writing this over the course of an entire day after I lost the first draft :')

I did my best to make it coherent, but I definitely forgot some stuff.

[phantompoguefangirl]

WRAPPED AROUND YOUR FINGER

CHAPTER FIVE: FINDING OUT

I admit I'm a bit of a fool for playing by the rules. But I've found my sweet escape when I'm alone with you -Disconnected by 5 Seconds Of Summer

A/N: I messed up Mikey's hair color timeline so I picked a random color for this chapter. Also I own none of these songs or the movie mentioned. Just using them for the fanfic. And because it's fanfic we're gonna pretend this song is by Mia and not Taylor Swift and Ed Sheeran. Also TRIGGER WARNING:MORE ABUSE MENTIONED

*Flashback*

MIA P.O.V.

Michael and I seemed to just click from the moment we met and in the span of a few shorts weeks we became the best of friends. When I was with him or even thought about him, I felt a sense of joy and warmth that I had never felt before in my life.

When we started spending time at his house with Ashton, Calum and Luke the joy and warmth intensified. They were simultaneously the goofiest and sweetest boys in the world. Ashton and I clicked almost as much as Michael and I did and sometimes if Michael was busy or Calum and Luke had wrangled him into a fifa tournament I hung out with Ash. I found out Luke secretly loved shopping so sometimes if I was able to go, I'd text Luke and ask him to go with me. This became our thing very quickly. Calum and I mostly played videogames or watched movies together. All in all, it wasn't long before the band house, and the boys themselves, began to feel like home to me.

Of course, I only hung out with them when Jesse was at work or out with his buddies and made sure to always be home before he got home. He didn't really allow me to have friends unless they were also his friends so I had to hide it from him. I hated sneaking around because I did love Jesse and I was terrified of him finding out but I savored those few hours away from everything.

He almost figured it out when my song was released. It kind of sounded like it was about falling for someone but it was really just about Michael pulling me in and making me want to get to know him better as a person. However, I'd accidentally mentioned his green eyes and stuff like that and that was what set Jesse off. We were at home when the song was released and he hadn't heard it till then because he was always too busy. Myself and the studio execs told him it was a really good song and he said to release it as soon as possible. But when he heard it, he lost his shit and started beating the crap out of me, demanding to know who it was about and why I was cheating on him. I ended up having to play it off like the song was about Jesse and how I felt when we first met, which was believable because his eyes were hazel like mine but looked more green a lot of the time. He accepted that after a bit but he stormed out saying he needed a drink and he might be back late or maybe in the morning.

I tried to hold it together but failed as I called Michael as soon as I knew Jesse was gone.

"Hey! I just listened to your song and-" Michael started babbling excitedly, answering on the first ring.

"Michael can I come over? I don't want to be alone right now," I managed to choke out through my sobs.

He turned serious immediately. "Mia, are you okay? What happened?"

I couldn't tell him what really happened so I went with a loose version of the truth.

"No, I'm not okay. Jesse and I got into a f-fight and it was bad," I explained, sniffling as I spoke."He stormed out, probably to go to a bar and get drunk."

I heard him mumble something under his breath that sounded angry but a seconf later he spoke in a soft voice. "Do you want me to come get you or do you want to meet in our usual place?"

"Um, can you actually come get me this time? I just really wanna see you," I said. It wasn't a lie, I did desperately want to see him. But I also was feeling very weak and sore and I didn't think I would be able to walk to our place in this state.

"Text me your address. I'll be right there." He said as I heard his car starting in the background.

"Thank you," I said.

"Of course. Any time," He said before hanging up.

I texted him my address, then slowly got up and made my way to the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror. I was in a tank top and my usual skinny jeans and I was covered in bruises. Mostly only in places that clothes covered, like my arms, wrists, legs, stomach, back, etc. He was careful about that. Though sometimes he hit me in the face and he had to get me special makeup to cover it so nobody noticed because of course we can't stain his image or reputation. Today was one of those days, so I got out the special make up and applied it to my face. I'd long since learned how to make it look like a basic foundation, eyeliner and mascara look so nobody suspected. Once I was done with that, I threw on an extra large Rolling Stones pullover sweatshirt. It was Jesse's and he was tall and very broad so it was huge on me and covered everything nicely. I put on my converse, grabbed my phone, keys and bag, and waited for Michael to arrive.

He got there in record time and I winced as I pushed through the pain to hurry out to his car. His hair was now a couple different shades of purple and he wore his usual band tee and black jeans with a denim jacket. He looked perfect as always.

"Hey," He greeted me with a gentle hug. I leaned into his chest and let out a shaky sigh. "Do you want to talk about it?"

I just shook my head against him, holding onto his jacket for dear life.

"That's okay. You don't have to," He said, rubbing my back. "Why don't we just go back to my house and watch a movie?"

I nodded and he let go of me so he could drive. He turned on the radio and A Daydream Away by All Time Low began playing. I quietly sang along as I leaned on his shoulder while he drove home.

MICHAEL P.O.V

I had been antsy all day waiting for Mia's song to drop so I could hear it and once I finally got to, I was speechless with emotions.

"All I knew

This morning when I woke

Is I know something now, know something now I didn't before

And all I've seen

Since eighteen hours ago

Is green eyes and freckles and your smile

In the back of my mind making me feel like

I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now

I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now

I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now

I just wanna know you, know you, know you

'Cause all I know is we said hello

And your eyes look like coming home

All I know is a simple name

And everything has changed

All I know is, you held the door

You'll be mine and I'll be yours

All I know since yesterday, yeah

Is everything has changed"

Mia's beautiful voice rang out from my speakers and I sat there in disbelief as I continued to listen.

"And all my walls

Stood tall painted blue

But I'll take 'em down, take 'em down and open up the door for you

And all I feel

In my stomach, is butterflies

The beautiful kind, making up for lost time

Taking flight, making me feel like

I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now

I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now

I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now

I just wanna know you, know you, know you

'Cause all I know is we said hello

And your eyes look like coming home

All I know is a simple name

And everything has changed

All I know is you held the door

And you'll be mine and I'll be yours

All I know since yesterday, yeah

Is everything has changed

Come back and tell me why

I'm feelin' like I've missed you all this time

(Uh-uh-uh)

And meet me there tonight

And let me know that it's not all in my mind

I just wanna know you better, know you better, know you better now

I just wanna know you, know you, know you

All I know is we said hello

Your eyes look like coming home

All I know is a simple name

And everything has changed

All I know is you held the door

You'll be mine and I'll be yours

All I know since yesterday, yeah

Is everything has changed

All I know is we said hello

So dust off your highest hopes

All I know is pouring rain

And everything has changed

All I know is a new found grace

All my days, I'll know your face

All I know since yesterday, yeah

Is everything has changed"

Mia wrote that about me? She'd told me I inspired this song but I had no idea how much till now. She probably didn't know this, but honestly every word was exactly how I felt from the second I met her too. I was smiling like an idiot and I couldn't stop. I yelled at the guys to come listen and they adored the song as much as I did.

"Look at your face!" Calum suddenly said, pointing at me."I reckon our little Mikey is in LOVE!"

I must have still been grinning, even though the music stopped playing.

"Ooohhh really?" Luke and Ash said together in a teasing tone.

"Very funny Cal," I said rolling my eyes. "She has a boyfriend, remember?"

"That doesn't mean you're not in love with her." He said, smirking.

"Yeah but I'm not, so why don't you do me favor and fuck off." I said the last part sarcastically, flipping him off.

"Yeah you keep telling yourself that, mate," Calum chuckled as he walked out of my room. Ash and Luke laughed as they followed him.

I rolled my eyes again as I turned back to my computer. I saved the song to my computer and my phone. I was about to call Mia but her ringtone, which was Don't Stop Believing by Journey(one of her favorite songs), started blaring from my phone before I could.

Her broken voice on the other end of the phone told me that something really bad had happened and I wanted to kick Jesse's ass for making her cry. I pushed my feelings aside and I was in my car before I even asked if she wanted me to pick her up or meet.

When I got to Mia's house, I was surprised to see that it was a fancy mansion near Sunset Boulevard. She wasn't famous enough to afford that quite yet, though I knew she would be soon. Her boyfriend must be rich or something. She ran out to my car and I could see the pain in her eyes so I just hugged her for a moment. She didn't want to talk about it so I just took her to my house.

She looked tired so I carried her inside to the movie room. She mumbled something about loving my hair which made me chuckle. I'd forgotten I dyed it again last night, but I was glad she liked it. I set her down on the reclining couch and told her I'd be right back. I ran up to my room, discarded my jacket, grabbed pillows and blankets and brought them to the movie room. I set everything up and put on The Lion King 2: Simba's Pride, which is one of her favorite disney movies. I snuggled with her and wrapped my black comforter around us. She rested her head on my chest and I brushed my fingers through her hair while we watched the movie. We both started dozing off around 3/4 of the way through the movie when Kiara and Kovu were having their moment while Love Will Find A Way started playing.

I was abruptly awoken by Mia jumping up from the couch and groaning in pain as her foot got caught in the blankets and she fell to the floor.

"Mia?! Are you okay?" I exclaimed as I went to help her up.

"I'm fine. It's just late and I have to-" But I was not paying attention to her words because standing up shifted her oversized sweatshirt off of her shoulder and revealed a dark purple and blue hand print shaped bruise on her shoulder/upper arm.

"Oh my god, your shoulder," I said as I grabbed her wrist to bring her in for a closer look but she made a pained sound so I quickly loosened my grip. Confused, I pushed her sleeve up and found more bruises on her wrist and arm.

"What the fuck is-" I started to say, but she yanked her hand away and pulled her sleeve down.

"It's nothing," she said, moving the top part of her sweatshirt back into place as well.

"That's not nothing. Did Jesse do this to you?" I asked, worriedly.

"I-um...just...don't worry about it, Michael. It's none of your business," she insisted, backing toward the door.

"None of my-...Mia, you're my best friend and I care about you. Of course it's my business!" I exclaimed as I looked at her with wide eyes.

"Well, I don't want to talk about it. I have to go before he gets home," She said, turning to open the door.

"No wait!" I said, bringing her back to face me. I noticed a very faint darkness around her eye under her makeup that could pass as sleep deprivation but I knew better. Motherfucker had given her a black eye. I was torn between rage and and worry. But I purposely kept my voice calm for her. "Don't go back there. Just stay here and we'll keep you safe. You know we will."

"Michael, stop. You don't understand." She said, pulling away from me and looking down. The broken voice had returned and I could see tears dropping onto her sleeves.

I lifted her face so I could look into her eyes. "So help me to understand."

She gazed up at me for a moment and her eyes flooded over as she spoke.

"It's not just about my safety. Jesse's a big executive in the music world and holds all my contracts. He controls my career. He controls my money. He controls EVERYTHING. He could probably even ruin your career if he finds out about you and I won't let that happen. I have to go back to him or I'll lose everything and you could too."

I stood there in shock for a minute, absorbing this information. That explained the mansion and her eyes darting around and the rushing to leave and everything. Her boyfriend was an absolute piece of shit who used his power to control and abuse her.

I pulled her into my arms and held her close. "Hey, shhh, it's gonna be okay. We'll figure it out."

I doubted this asshole could do anything to my career or the band. We got lucky and had a pretty powerful management and legal team. Actually, maybe they could help with this situation.

"Hold on, I have an idea," I said, explaining it to her and then taking her with me to find the boys. Turned out they were in the downstairs studio messing around with their instruments. Feldy was there too.

I had Mia sit with the guys while I talked to Feldy alone. He agreed to help and got on the phone immediately. It was actually not as late as we thought so he was able to contact the appropriate people fairly easily. When he was done we went back to the others and I let Mia know that the plan would work.

"What plan? What's going on?" Ashton asked.

"It's up to you if you want to tell them or not," I told Mia.

She debated for a moment before standing up and removing her sweatshirt. She wore a basic grey tank top underneath and her arms, chest and back were all discolored by different levels of bruises. There were yellowing ones under the fresh purple ones. she lifted her tank top a little to reveal more layers of violet, blue, green and yellow on her stomach.

"OH MY GOD WHAT HAPPENED? WHO DID THIS TO YOU?!" Ashton shouted, running over to her.

Calum and Luke flipped out too and started badgering her with questions.

Feldy remained calm but I could tell he was trying very hard to hold it together.

I just gaped at her in horror. It was painful to see her like this, like I felt each blow along with her. I worked to control my emotions while she explained everything to them. I helped her put her sweatshirt back on while I told them my idea and the boys were obviously on board.

We sat there planning for a long time, all the while reassuring Mia that everything would be okay...

@jetblackbritt13

[finnickodaiir]

Share them bestie

Okay!

Journey to Fearless >> 1989 Tour movie

Vigilante Shit is... bad...

The re-recordings overall are an improvement, but there are a few exceptions (WANEGBT, IKYWT, Holy Ground and Girl at Home)

Reputation didn't deserve album of the year. It's not as bad as some of the critics who disliked it claim it is, but it's also not as amazing as the fandom thinks it is imo. It has some great songs (Getaway Car, Dress, Call It What You Want, Gorgeous, King of My Heart, Delicate), but also a lot of meh songs (So It Goes, Don't Blame Me, LWYMMD) and some of her worst songs (This is Why We Can't Have Nice Things and Endgame). It's a 7/10 album for me.

LWYMMD gets too much hate (I know, I just listed it as a meh song, but I don't think it's a bad song, it's just one that I don't really revist that often. And plus it gave us the best music video from the Reputation era)

Karma the lost album theory is not real.

Shake It Off should have been the single from the 1989 era that got a tour video, not New Romantics, because that song has a lot of imagery while Shake It Off doesn't. But it served its purpose as a lead single, which was to create a lot of hype around 1989, but still.

Some people need to stop acting like Folklore and Evermore are the only times Taylor has had great songwriting on her albums. Red, Speak Now, Love Story, The Best Day, Fifteen, White Horse, Clean, Dancing with Our Hands Tied, Clean, Soon You'll Get Better, Cornelia Street, YOYOK and WCS are right there.

None of her pop albums are underrated. Some get more criticism than others (Lover), but like her pop albums are still very popular and have a lot of people who love them and discuss their songs.

Her country ones (especially Debut and Fearless) are very underrated and are slept on.

Lover is my least favorite album. It has some of her best pop songs (Cruel Summer, Cornelia Street, I Think He Knows), but it also has some of her worst songs (Me!, YNTCD, I Forgot That You Existed) and the tracklist is messy and it's the one TS album that I'd say that the tracklist needs some adjusting for sure.

I really don't get why some people say she couldn't possibly have written the 10 minute version of All Too Well back in 2011, just because of the "fuck the patriarchy " line. She was just quoting what was written on the keychain, not just randomly saying it for the sake of saying it.

If This Was a Movie deserves more attention

The Fearless vault tracks are overall good (except Don't You and Bye Bye Baby)

As much as I'd like to believe Speak Now TV will be out in March, I doubt it now, because we're only 1 month away and no announcement yet.

I'd be perfectly fine with Shake It Off, Bad Blood, Me!, YNTCD getting cut from the tour setlist for other songs (aka Holy Ground, Enchanted, State of Grace, Wonderland, You're in Love)

Everything Has Changed and Run are good. Yes, Ed's music has declined quality wise from his earlier work, but these collabs are still good.

Mary's Song and Today Was a Fairytale are cute and I don't get why people hate on them.

Starlight deserves more attention too. Yeah, it's a bit weird that it made onto Red, but it's still a good song

I like August, but I don't think it's the best song of the love triangle songs on Folklore.

[lindsaywesker]

Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day. Welcome to the working week although, for those of you working in the NHS, welcome to just another day.

Wow! That was another breathless weekend!

Many thanks to everyone that listened to the radio show live and to everyone that will listen to the show on MixCloud. The Letter N (Part Four) this Saturday at 1.00 p.m.

The weekend got off to a slow start as my son, having picked up The Mighty Josiah, struggled to get home. There was a fender-bender on the M1 that brought both carriageways to a standstill for more than an hour. There are TOO many cars on our roads and TOO many bad drivers!

On Saturday morning, I set off for Summer Soulstice and arrived at High Barnet tube station early. So, I thought, instead of waiting for the ‘Soul Bus’, I’d walk to the event. What I forgot was that I was in the bloody countryside and, as I got closer to the field, there was no pavement! I enjoyed a bracing walk, though, even at 11.00, it was bloody hot! The back of my T-shirt was soaked!

I’ve never been before but I’m so glad Jon Jules organised for me to do my radio show from Summer Soulstice. What a fantastic event! Naturally, we were helped by some marvellous weather; as noon passed, it just seemed to get hotter! There were FAR too many beautiful people there! I tried to grab selfies with as many people as possible and there were one or two popping their Lindsay selfie cherry! At one point, this devilish woman gave me a glass of rum punch. I know you’re not meant to drink alcohol live on air, but it smelt so nice, plus it was cold and wet! I needed something to lubricate my throat. I was drinking on an empty stomach so, when I played ‘Hip Hop Hooray’, my brain was literally going, “Hey! Ho! Hey! Ho!” I don’t know what the show sounded like but it was fun to do! In the middle of my show, these two gorgeous women arrived, told me they were part of an act called Soul Fusion Seven and that they were performing later. After my show, I caught their set, and it’s a very impressive set of seventies soul, disco and jazz-funk covers. I wanted to try something different for lunch (and to soak up the alcohol), so I opted for jollof rice and moi moi, which was very filling! I could feel the ‘itis’ coming on, so I kept moving. One of the best things about this event is that it’s a family-orientated soul music event, with lots of activities for the kids. You don’t know how tempted I was to jump on the bouncy castle! As well as the main stage and the Mi-Soul V.I.P. bar, there were two tents full of cool DJs. Really, something for everyone! Tons of the Mi-Soul boys were there because they’ve always played Summer Soulstice, so I hope we can continue to do live broadcasts from our little house.

I was on my train home when I got a phone call from Gordon wondering where I was. My beautiful friend Vivienne McKone had just finished her set and was looking for me! Vivienne: we will catch up soon!

I got home after 8.00 p.m. and, after a day in the sun, I could barely move. Thank God, my son had ordered pizza! I had just enough strength to post my photos!

The bedroom was too hot so, just after 4.00 a.m. I came downstairs to my favourite armchair. Josiah woke me up around 7.00, looking for his breakfast and, after toasting two waffles for him, I went back to sleep. I actually slept through until 10.00. I never do that.

On Sunday evening, we attended the birthday party of the amazingly talented, versatile and lovable Edward Adoo. Always nice to see Ed and his mum. In fact, no party is complete without Ed’s mum! Also, lovely to see my friend Joanna Abeyie, who always looks so glamourous. Ed’s dad played a blistering live set with his trio, which is a classy way to spend your Sunday afternoon.

Definitely need a day off! That ain’t happening! Seven hours of teaching today; wish me luck!

Have a marvellous and momentous Monday. I love you all.

[izzy-b-hands]

More Dethklok/The Revenge bc why not since I'm not sleeping yet lol

also Jack kills Rockso in this one, congrats to Jack, get fucked to Rockso aksndkfnf

---

"So," Jack winces. "How attached were y'all to the on-site clown?"

"The what?" Nathan grumbles around a mouthful of potato chip.

"The guy, big hair, bright colours," Jack gestures. "Deep V on his jumpsuit?"

"Oh, that piece of shit," Nathan chuckles. "Toki likes him. Why?"

"Ah fuck," Jack sighs. "I may have run him down because he started shooting at me while I was trying to park."

"Oh. Okay."

"Uh...that's it?"

"I mean," Stede interjects. "He was a bad person. Very literally just a terrible man."

"And there's things to be said about vigilante justice, blah, blah, blah," Ed adds. "But instead I'm going to ask if you want pizza or not."

"Yes?" Jack frowns. "What about Toki?"

"You're basically a clown now and again," Izzy says. "And not a complete piece of shit like Rockso was. You're a good replacement."

"And what if I don't like Toki? I'm meeting him for the first fuckin' time today, after all-"

"Rockso ams deads!" Toki barrels into the kitchen and slams into Jack's chest. "Charles says you trieds to saves him! Thanks you so much for whats you did!"

Charles jogs in behind him, making clear 'just fucking go with it' gestures to them all.

"Uh, yeah," Jack pats Toki's back. "I sure did all I could. Definitely didn't reverse over him more than once."

Toki sobs.

"And hey! We were gonna have your chefs make some pizza! That's gotta help, right?"

"Cans we does shots while we eats it?" Toki whimpers. "Also, ams you a cowboys or a clowns or both?"

"Depends on the day and who you ask and Izzy don't say a fucking word," Jack smirks. "I'm Calico Jack, and I don't let genres define me."

"Think metal Tom Waits," Ed says. "That's him more or less in a phrase."

"I've asked you not to do that, define me," Jack sighs. "Toki, I think I need those shots. Where's the nearest whiskey bar?"

"We don'ts got a bar, but the Klokateers makes most of our booze here!"

"Why the fuck do y'all ever leave?" Jack asks playfully as Toki drags him away towards the nearest Klokateer, presumably to start feeding each other booze.

"Okay, so someone's gonna deal with the..." Pickles pauses. "Charles, you got someone dealing with-"

"Rockso is on his way to be cremated then buried," Charles interrupts. "As per his latest will."

"Oh good. So, if we do this song with Jack-"

"No other concerns about Rockso being killed on your property?" Charles asks.

"No," Skwisgaar replies. "He ams finally deads; we haves pizza on the way; grass ams green, any other facts yous ams wanting me to recite for no good reason?"

"That answers the are you hangry question," Charles continues. "And no. Just wanted to make sure, if anyone was feeling anything conflicting about it-"

"Shhhh," Pickles interrupts. "Just enjoy the moment with us."

There's a beat of silence.

"So. I didn't see a parking lot when we got dropped off here today," Frenchie says gently. "Where did Jack park, and where the fuck was that creepy clown wandering?"

"Doesn't matter, his car will be safe regardless," Stede takes the lead, with an accompanying nod from Charles. "And he was wandering in the best place possible: in front of Jack's car."

"A lot of people die here, huh?"

"Don't worry about it," Nathan passes down plates as a chef sets a platter of pizza on the counter nearest them. "Have some pizza, and think about that adjustment to the bass line I mentioned. Murderface can't play it well enough, but you or someone else could."

Frenchie takes the pizza and nods. "He truly was one of the worst people, wasn't he? The clown?"

"May he rescht in pissch," Murderface declares, and with it, the matter feels perfectly settled.

[myimaginarywonderland]

This is so important. I don't think some of you understand how important Valtteri speaking up about this, so let me just provide some facts here to show you how groundbreaking this is.

Weight has always been a huge issue in F1 ever since the weight regulations where put in place. Why you may ask?

Because someone like Esteban who is taller than me and male should not weigh like 10 kg less than I do. It is dangerous to his health to be this borderline thin.

Let me bring you back a few years to 2014 where many of us weren't watching. A driver, JEV to be exact, was literally hospitalized as a result of collapsing because he starved himself so much. Why you might ask? Because his bosses told him to lose weight. He starved himself so badly to go faster because he was slower than his team-mate.

And I know many probably don't know JEV because they don't watch FE and frankly it shouldn't matter where or even if he still races because this is so fucked up on so many levels.

And we have all heard the comments about drivers like Esteban and George often times being borderline with their weight.

Body image is such a big part but sadly not just for F1. Many German Formula E watchers will have heard countless comments by commentators about Oliver Rowland (a driver who is currently raising a toddler and is not as thin as a paper.) A German commentator has often mentioned how he could afford to lose weight, how be is very heavy.

And frankly, I have also seen some people call drivers like Lance or Valtteri chubby and not only is it weird to comment about someone else's body like that but to reinforce the idea that these drivers have to look a specific way is even more ridiculous when you think back to the beginning of F1 where people didn't even need a driving license.

I can not comprehend how in a sport this advance there still is not solution to have their drivers a healthy weight. Frankly I would much rather see slower cars if it meant the drivers didn't have to be this be specific about their food and could keep a natural body weight for their individual heights, body types etc.

Now, going back to 2014, JEV was kicked out and the whole thing was silenced. I don't think I have ever heard anyone in F1 address what happened to him, how fucked up it was or how wrong RedBull were for their treatment of him. And it's really only now that he has become one of the best and most respected drivers in F1 who is happy with himself that he can talk about this. Now, remember that this was all for Alpha Tauri, a current b team.

I can not imagine the amount of pressure Valtteri must have felt at Mercedes, especially when everyone already kept calling him bad all the time as he was losing to Lewis. Not only did he basically have no fan support, he also had everything that came with it. And let's not act like Mercedes were saints in this either. We have all seen how they treated him towards the end. They are just as cut-throat if it has to be as RedBull probably. So the imagine that not only does a driver than have no fan support (or it seems like that), no team support,he also has the constant challenge of "why is he so much faster than me?"

And now let's remember that JEV, for a B team was ready to risk his entire health to just only get a bit faster. I can't imagine the desperate attempts Val must have made.

Now, imagine how much courage it takes to talk about that. To sit down and not only admit that you were struggling but to also say "And I had an ED." To label something that is so unheard of in this sport, something that is so silenced no one would ever dare touch that subject.

To imagine this heavy burden that was just lifted after Mercedes, to imagine how freeing it must have felt and yet terrifying to open up about it because you had already seen someone else in that pain and knew it would be possibly pushed aside.

This is not only inspiring because he is choosing himself to become a target but he is also giving other athletes especially younger ones a way to realise what is going on with them and opening them up to the possibility of help.

It is inspiring because he is breaking a tabu.

So if you want to talk about mental health advocate you better not forget Val.

Valtteri Bottas making himself vulnerable by speaking openly about the mental health struggles he's had as an athlete will never not be inspiring to me

[howl-fantasies]

Gotham villains when you’re at the hospital

A/N - Let’s be honest here little fellow, being in a relationship with a villain means at least one hospital trip once in a while because you WILL be a collateral damage or a way to harm them. Now, with that being said, how do our dear antagonists would react when hearing you’re at Gotham General Hospital?

Warning : English mistakes, sorry about that, it’s not my first language, probably bad words and mention of blood/torture, I mean... it’s Gotham.  

I hope you’ll enjoy it! 🥰

.

ED NYGMA / THE RIDDLER

As soon as he heard about you being transported to the hospital he would panic. What happened? Did you have an accident? Another sabotage by Penguin maybe? God, where is your car?!

Would drop whatever he’s doing to rush to the hospital, he’s a genius, he would figured out a way to approach you without being arrested or putting you in danger. 

He would infiltrate your room as a doctor, since the surgical mask and cap would hide him. 

If you are conscious, he would rush to you and hug you like you’re gonna evaporate at any second, crushing you and probably make you cry in pain a bit. 

Would soothe you while muttering nonsense, keeping your face in his hands and scanning your body to look at your injuries, “Sweet dear, what happened to you? Are you ok? Did the GCPD already came to hear you? What did you tell them?” Calm him down or he’s gonna lose it, you can already see Riddler and him fighting to have control over is body. 

“Look, Y/N I NEED to know exactly WHAT happened”, asked the harsh voice of the Riddler. He would take care of any psychological shock AFTER you tell him the details. Now he needs to think and fast for your own security, so, take a deep breath and explain everything in chronological order with as much info you can to give him a perfect picture of the event. 

Would be silent after your explanation, don’t interrupt, he’s scheming. First : how to get you out as fast as possible with everything you’d need to recover properly, he’d be your doctor, nurse, he’d learn just for you. Second, he needs to plot against the low life responsible of your poor state and DESTROY them. 

If you’re unconscious, he would break just next to you, sweating bullets and hyperventilated until Riddler finally takes the upper hand and collect theirselves. Ok. Breathe. We need to act now. 

Would steal your file to know everything about your injuries, current treatment and find the best way to take you out without endangering your life. 

Brings you to one of his hideout in the Narrows and would probably contact Lee to take care of you until he’s confident enough to do it himself. 

Would scrutinize her every move just to be sure she doesn’t try something. “Ed, relax, I’d never hurt a civil, I’m a doctor remember? Not a sicko assassin”, She would try to tell him. “Nothing personal Lee, but I’m not leaving, can never be 100% sure in this city.” He would bark. “God you really like them, uh...” Would just said Lee, earning a blade under her throat. “Don’t talk about something you don’t understand doctor. Do your job, that’s just what I’m asking you”. 

She was right though, he wouldn’t eat or sleep until forced by Lee, only counting on coffee to keep his brain awake.

If he didn’t have your inputs about what happened, he would break inside of the GCPD and steal their files to see if they have any clue. If yes, the responsible is dead. If not, he wouldn’t hesitate to abduct Gordon or Penguin to force them to investigate and if they don’t managed to help him, they are DEAD. He would also hack CCTV just in case something was recorded. 

Don’t worry he would find the culprit, his brain would be focused on this goal EVERY second until he figures it out. Because he figures EVERYTHING OUT. 

Would suffocate you when awake, demand you to always stay where he can see you, even offer you to put a tracker device on you with an emergency button, just in case. 

.

OSWALD COBBLEPOT

Oh dear, remember how he was when his mother was abducted? Yeah, he’d be exactly like that, multiply by ten. 

Since the murder of his mother, he was paranoid and the idea of you being a target was eating him alive. He asked 4 guards to ALWAYS be with you just to avoid reviving his terrible misery and distress. So WHAT in hell happened?! 

Would yell in his living room and probably kill the bringer of the new out of rage, then hyperventilate, then yell again while crying and throwing every and any item in the room. 

Probably would need one of his goons or Victor to calm him down. You were alive, just injured or badly injured, you needed him to take care of you, your safety and make the culprit PAY. 

Once calm, he would be terrifyingly cold. “Everybody with me, we’re going to the hospital, keep the GCPD and people out.” He would demand. 

In the hospital, he would rush to you and, like Ed, crush you against his chest muttering nonsense and crying. He would repeat non stop how everything is going to be ok, how he’d take care of you, how you don’t need to do anything, just recover, and how he is sorry you were mix in whatever happened. 

Cause he would be certain you were a way to make him suffer. Would ask you what happened, wipe your tears if needed, and keep your hands in his during all your explanations, to show you his support and love. 

Would do an amazing job to soothe you and look like a strong and collected partner just for your sake, while all his being is fuming. But you needed reassurance and he would give it to you. His pain was secondary when you were in this state. 

You wouldn’t be able to read his face, but do not fret, he’s scheming like never before. He learnt his lesson with his mother : no precipitation or impulsive move - as much as possible, we are talking about the king of tantrums here. “Victor, find them. Don’t have too much fun, I want to be the one playing with them.” He would order coldly. 

If you’re unconscious, he would freeze next to your hospital bed, gritting his teeth and clenching his cane so hard his fingers would threaten to break. He would grab one of your hands and kiss your knuckles before barking at his men “Take an ambulance, bring the better doctors and nurses of the hospital, we’re gonna install Y/N in my mansion and they’re gonna take care of her until she feels better. GO!” 

Back at the mansion, he would organize an exceptional meeting, any absent is a dead man or woman. “Someone targeted Y/N. I want all of you to investigate and find them. And if the culprit(s) is one of you, I’ll make an example and let Victor have all the fun he wants with their family.” 

Once awake, he would be the perfect nurse with you. Clearly suffocating but endearing. Say thank you and drink another of his sainted mother tea. That’ll ease his poor nerves and probably save a few lives, Gabe told you earlier that Oswald had blow a goon with a bazooka for a simple mistake. “Please be better soon Y/N, everybody miss you dearly”, he would plea then flee far away as soon as seeing Cobblepot coming with a tray in his hands. 

.

VICTOR ZSASZ

Never in his life had he shot a mark that quick. As soon as one of the girls told him about you being at the hospital, the guy he was stalking brutally died in the middle of the street and some Gothamites saw a terrifying bald guy walking like he was going to stab someone to death, bring them back to life and kill them all over again. 

He would order the girls to guard your room and the hospital until he arrives, which would be pretty quick trust me, not like he cares about speed limits. 

As soon as he would be in your room, you will see his clench jaw and the angry vein popping on the side of his neck. As well as his furrowed eyebrows and his dark gaze. He was scared and didn’t like it, at all. Our sweet sweet maniac doesn’t deal vey well with the death of people he cares for, first his parents, next Falcone, now it could have been you. 

Would sit next to you and scan your body inch by inch in total silence to see the damages. “When. What. Who. And why? Now.” Don’t take offense, it’s his coping mechanism. Be concise and tell him everything you remember. 

Once you finished, he would nod then lift up and walk to the door. Stop a second then turn his head a bit indicating you to listen. “You don’t move from here. Stay with the girls, they’ll bring you home. Wait for me here.” Again, don’t take offense, right now he’s a man on a mission : finding the fucker who did that, and torture them for ages until they lose all humanity and just become a vegetable on a chair.” 

Would demand an update of your situation EVERY 30min. If one girl miss to report, he’s here and if she doesn’t have a good excuse (there would be none) she dies. 

If you’re not conscious, oh boy. He would walk next to you and stare at your form beat to a pulp while breathing hard. Then would draw one of his gun, load it, and lean enough to kiss your forehead, brushing your hair out of your face before storming out of the room : the man is on a killing spree and not even a char would be enough to stop him. He doesn’t try and never stops, he’s hunting now and will bring you your assailant head once he would be finished with them.  

Would order the girls to bring you home with everything you need to recover, also brainwash doctors and nurses to be entirely focus on saving your life. 

Once you’re awake, he would already be there, sat on a chair and watching you without blinking. His face would be extremely tense and his eyes hollow. “Vic?” “You start training with me tomorrow. Now sleep Y/N”. He would raise, crash his lips hard on yours then leave.

Yeah, say thank you cause he reeeeally wanted to keep you in here until the world ends. But since risk 0 never exists, he decided to train you until he judges you able to take care of yourself. 

You’d never be too far from his sight though, know that, and he would DEMAND a text from you every hour saying you’re ok. You scared the shit out of him, now you have to deal with his obsessive paranoia dear. Btw, I hope you don’t mind the tracker he put under the skin of your right shoulder... 

.

JONATHAN CRANE

Jonathan would be utterly shocked when hearing you’re at the hospital, then he would panic, starting to walk around the room while muttering non stop “No, no, no, no, what happened, what happened...” and rubbing his hands in his hair, messing it up. 

Jonathan lost his mother in a fire, then his father was shot, he couldn’t imagine how his life would turn if you, his only light and only safe heaven happened to be killed. 

He would be at your side as soon as he can, crying while hugging you and swing the two of you back and forth in a soothing way, saying how much he’s glad you’re ok and sorry to not have been there to save you. 

He would rush you asking question after question, without sometimes letting you the time to answer. Be the collected and calm one cause he’s losing it and will need you to reassure him. You were ok and here’s what happened. 

As soon as he knows who did that to you, he would be unstoppable and hunt the person. No matters who it is, they would be his new guinea pig for a very special toxin, one very hard to product and with awful side effects. 

Even if Jonathan is not a very courageous person, he would be especially cold and harsh with the responsible of your injuries. 

If you’re not conscious, he would break in tears next to you while hugging you and swearing he’d find the culprit. “You hear me my love? I swear on my parent’s grave I’ll make him pay what he did to you. And I swear nobody else would dare touch one of your hair after that, they would be too terrified to even try. Please be strong, please come back. Don’t let me here alone, come back to me, I love you Y/N, I love you, I love you, I love you.” 

Nobody knows how but he managed to convinced (he threatened him with his toxin) Cobblepot to help him to find the person who attacked you and to transport you in his hideout with the best doctors and nurses. 

As soon as you opened your eyes, he’s here to hug you and thanks god, the providence, the stars, whatever you want for having you back with him. He would literally cover your face with kisses, then cling to you like his life is depending on it. 

He will make you follow him everywhere after that, no discussion it’s for your own security. 

Prepare for him to call you every two minutes if he can’t be with you, just to be sure you are ok. 

.

Jervis Tetch

He’s called Mad Hatter for a good reason... When he heard about you being injured, he would first be stunned : absolutely silent with wide yes, then breathe once, then yelled “WHAT?!” wile doing the most impressive table flip ever recorded in Gotham. 

Who DARED to touch his Alice? Who was STUPID enough to harm you and think they would see the sun rise?! 

He would jumped in his best suit, with his best hat and silver pocket watch before rushing to the hospital, to you. 

“Y/N! Y/N! Here you are my beloved, are you ok? What did the doctor say? Who did those horrible thing to you my sweet flower, who was the brute who dared touch someone as pure and delicate? Tell me, tell me everything, I promise he wouldn’t bother you EVER again my love” 

Would caress your hair tenderly to soothe you while you explained what happened, stroking your cheeks carefully to not cause you any discomfort. A true gentleman, encouraging you to continue with lovely pet names but a dangerous glint in his eyes. 

“Don’t worry my beautiful love, your well being will be the absolute priority of the doctors and nurses here my sweet”, he would hypnotize EVERYONE from doctors, to patients, to security guards in order to make you the queen/king they have to protect with their own lives. 

If you are not conscious, he would sit next to you quietly with tears in his eyes while caressing your face reverently as if you were made of crystal. Would swear to find who did this to you and shove his entire tea set down their windpipe before torturing them properly.

He would hypnotize all the GCPD to make them investigate about who harmed you and kill any officer who dares to tell him they hadn’t find the culprit yet. 

Once awake, Jervis would jump on you too joyful to care about your poor ears and kissing you like there was no tomorrow. 

Would organize a giant tea party to celebrate, with a special guest at your table : the lowlife who dared to harm you. Do not fret, they’re harmless in their flamingo outfit, “Look at them, we would use their stupid head later to play cricket my sweet, it would be an amazing party trust me”. 

After that, he would always want to know where you are and with who. Will call you every hour to be sure you are fine and safe. “Don’t stay out too much my Alice, come back to our safe wonderland, where nobody can harm you”. 

. 

Jerome Valeska

Come again? You were WHAT?! At the hospital because some poor thug wanted to use you to make him suffer? What a terrible and lame joke. 

He’s not laughing. At all. In fact he’s pretty mad. 

Don’t even care to hide and go straight to the hospital, pushing any person who would stand between you and him, or simply killing them. 

“Hello there Y/N. Having some fun without me I can see”, he would mocked, but you know better judging by his tensed smile and sharp breathing. He’s furious but try to keep the act. 

“Care to tell me who painted your face so badly?” He would ask, while jumping carelessly on the end of your bed and sitting cross-legged with his elbows on his knees. 

He’s not over acting for once, just nods while listening everything and making some “hm” here and there. His calm demeanor is truly frightening and you can see his intelligent gaze watching your injured face intensely. 

As soon as you finished, he would jump out of the bed, put a hand behind your neck and peck your lips. “I’m going to make a show just for you my dear. Sit comfortably and enjoy it.” 

Then he’s out, already looking for the culprit with his goons while imagining the most extravagant way to entertain you from your hospital bed. “Why, a firework of course. Hey! hey! you! Go find all the fireworks you can, then bring it in the center of the city.” 

Would switch off ALL Gotham lights at midnight then start to light DOZEN of fireworks just for you to see from your room. Spoiler, the last one would be gigantic with your assailant tied to it, screaming in horror then exploding in a colossal heart shape with blood and human parts splashing everywhere. Who said vengeance couldn’t be romantic?! 

If you’re not conscious, he would be super silent next to you and super still. You in this state highly disturbed him. He was used to your babbling, your laughs and the glint of life in your eyes. Like this you were too fragile, too defenseless, too painted with blood and for once he didn’t like this last thing. He would make sure to cover you so you don’t feel cold, and kiss your cheek lightly before leaving the room silently to scare the shit out of the staff with one simple statement : she dies, everyone does.

Would wreak absolute havoc in Gotham, threatening to slaughter any Gothamites until the GCPD brings him the culprit. The result would be the same, a firework so you could watch the pictures in the journal when you would wake up. 

As soon as you opened your eyes, you would find yourself in the middle of balloons, plushes, and colorful “Feel better soon” letters pinned everywhere. Then you would see him with a bunch of flower plushes mimicking a reverence before kissing your knuckles. “My dear, what a pleasure to see you back in the game. Gotham was so dull without my sweet assistant.” He would say in a theatrical way. 

Would always be next to you with one of his arm around your shoulder after that. 

. 

Jeremiah Valeska

Excuse you? WHAT?! (He’s not Jerome twin for nothing you know) ECCO COME HERE IMMEDIATELY! 

First thing first, Jeremiah would yelled at her so much she would pray she was deaf. “WHY WEREN’T YOU WITH Y/N? WHAT DID I TELL YOU?” Poor woman would be playing Russian Roulette all over again because of her (probably intentional) mistake. 

Jeremiah would next go as quick as he could to the hospital to see you. No he was not panicking, no he was not tightening his jaw nor gritting his teeth nor playing nervously with his purple gloves. 

When in your room, he would also yell at you, because “WHAT WERE YOU DOING OUTSIDE WITHOUT TELLING ME OR TAKING ECCO WITH YOU?!” Hello to you too Jeremiah... Don’t be mad, it’s his absolute lame way of coping with the stress. 

Would take you by the shoulders carefully to take a good look at you and your injuries. Sighing slightly and clicking his tongue when one cut or bruise seemed bad in his eyes. 

“You’re going to tell me everything, from your stupid idea to get out alone to your arrival in the hospital do you hear me? And you better don’t miss a thing, understand?” Do as he asked. He’s playing mad but he’s listening intensely to you and even unconsciously rubs his thumb on the top your hand. Act like you didn’t noticed or he would stop, too embarrassed by it. (Tsundere here) 

When your explanations are finished, he would nod once, pat your head a little bit too fondly to his liking but it’s done (TSUNDERE HERE). “You stay here and try not putting yourself in troubles again, I’ll do the rest.” He would tell you with a demanding voice. 

Would hack CCTV and threaten every villain until he finds the culprit. 

He would then beat them to a pulp, and torture them in one of his personal labyrinth. Would make them think they outsmarted him by finding the exit only for them to rush out and fall into a giant acid tun. 

If you are not conscious, he would walk silently to you, put his hat, sunglasses and gloves on the small bedside table and sit next to you. 

He would look at all the wires connected to your body and the medical machines, close his eyes, listen to your difficult breathes and clench his jaw in anger. The person who put you in this state wouldn’t escape him and would learn the meaning of absolute pain. 

He would rearrange your hair tenderly, cover you properly and kiss your forehead then leave the hospital but not before telling the doctors the same thing as his brother : “she dies, everyone does.” 

When you would open your eyes, you would find a beautiful eternal rose next to your bed with a card saying with his writing “Feel better soon, J.” 

A limo will be waiting for you in front of the hospital, and when the guard would open the door, you’d find Jeremiah in his finest purple suit and a bunch of roses just for you. He’s still mad but too happy to see you awake to let you come back alone as he wanted to at first. 

You’re not going anywhere without goons and weapons after that and you have to tell him where you go and with who all the time. 

[michwritesstuff]

You’re Not So Bad (Harry Potter: Adrian Pucey)

THIS HAS BEEN SITTING IN MY DRAFTS FOR SO LONG! never finished this the way i wanted to so i cut a bit out and kept it at this, might have another part but i’m not sure yet! hope you guys like it :)

summary: hufflepuff female reader (she/her) x adrian pucey He was a Slytherin. She was a muggle born Hufflepuff. What more can I say? (get it? like sk8r boi?) anyways…Y/N is a proud and talented member of the Hufflepuff quidditch team. After one too many coincident encounters with Slytherin’s Adrian Pucey, she realizes that maybe she was wrong in her initial judgement of him and his housemates. notes/warnings: mentions of blood word count: 1.9 k

Another year at Hogwarts meant another year of getting to take the Hogwarts Express. As a muggle born you never failed to be excited by the enchanting nature of the Wizarding World. If your parents weren’t too busy with work, they would have been dropping you off themselves. Much like you, your parents loved everything about the Wizarding World and cherished the times when you needed to go to Diagon Alley.

You thanked the cab driver as he pulled up outside of King’s Cross Station and walked to the back of the car, dragging your trunk out. As you continued along through the station, you walked at a steady pace until you had reached platform 9 ¾. As nonchalantly as possible you glanced from side to side before walking directly through the platform wall. The Hogwarts Express came into view, steam whistling from the front as families lined the platform. You pushed your way through, trying your best to avoid bumping into anyone. Finally, Cedric and his dad came into view.

“Hey Y/N!” he called out when he saw you.

“Hi Ced, how have you been?” you asked, pulling him into a hug.

“Good, you know...taking care of this old man,” he laughed as he patted his dad on the back.

You laughed along before turning to pull Cedric’s dad into a hug.

“Y/N my girl, how are you? How are your parents?” he asked.

“They’re doing good, wish they could be here of course,” you smiled.

“Well, I’ll be sure to send them some stuff from our garden and let them know I saw you and Ced off, how about that,” Amos stated.

You smiled at him warmly before thanking him one last time.

Grabbing your trunk you followed Cedric through the train, quickly glancing around the carriages in hope of finding an empty one or finding the rest of your friends. You stumbled along behind him, a carriage door sliding open as the two of you passed.

“Diggory,” a voice called out.

You and Cedric snapped your heads around, trying to place who had spoken. None other than Marcus Flint stepped out of the carriage. You glanced inside and saw two other Slytherin quidditch players who you recognized to be Adrian Pucey and Terrence Higgs whispering among themselves.

“Suppose your ready to lose to us again this year?” Flint taunted.

“Suppose your ready for me to fly circles around you again this year?” you replied, a smirk growing across your face as Flint’s smug look was replaced by a look of disdain.

You could hear Pucey and Higgs’ giggles increase at your statement. They knew it was true. The Slytherin team was strong and known for their unfair play, but Y/N Y/L/N was one of the best flyers at Hogwarts.

“You wish Y/L/N! Gonna wipe the pitch with you mudblood,” he threatened.

Your eyes widened at the ghastly use of such a word, your eyes quickly scanning Flint and the people behind him. Pucey and Higgs’ giggles long gone. Higgs quietly looked down at the floor of the compartment, trying his hardest not to make eye contact. Pucey however, stared right back at you. His eyes held something you couldn’t quite place, sadness? No, why would he be sad, he probably just pitied you.

Cedric’s hand found your shoulder and hurried you along the corridor of the train. Finding the carriage with the rest of your friends, Cedric ushered you in. As he retold the story bout the encounter with Flint they all gasped and looked offended and disgusted by Flint’s behavior.

“He’s an asshole, we knew this already,” you stated.

“I’m fine guys, promise,” you smiled weakly.

Truth was, you were fine. Flint’s aimless name calling didn’t concern you. You were proud of who you were and who your parents were, it didn’t matter. You were going to wipe the pitch with him this season AND continue to fly circles around him. The biggest thing on your mind had nothing to do with Flint, you were too concerned with Pucey. You couldn’t erase the look on his face from your memory.

That night all previous conversation about Flint had subsided as it was replaced by conversations about the summer break and upcoming term. From laughing and joking about the first years waiting to be sorted to complaining about having Herbology with the Slytherins.

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

Classes were finally in full swing and the first quidditch game of the season was approaching this weekend. Unfortunately, you felt unprepared for both. Practices had been long and gruesome, and they left you with little free time for studying and getting work done. This meant hours spent in the library and sneaking into the kitchens where the house elves offered you coffee and various pastries to help you get through the long nights.

So here you were, sitting at a table with books open and sprawled out. Unused rolls of parchment lined up next to your spare quill and bottle of ink. You worked absentmindedly scrawling as much as you could about the effects of fresh mandrake juice on petrification. Ever since the incident with the Chamber of Secrets being reopened, Professor Sprout thought it useful understand the importance of utilizing the magical properties of specific plants, rather than just how to care for them. Rereading the same line for what felt like the hundredth time, your attention was interrupted by an unexpected voice.

“Room for one more?”

You looked up to find none other than Adrian Pucey to be the source of the voice, book bag hanging off his shoulder. He motioned to the seat across from you.

“Uhm, yeah let me just…” you trailed off as you attempted to gather and organize all your materials to your side of the table. Pucey lightly chuckled at your frazzled state. Sitting down and pulling his own parchment and books out, his eyes glanced over your materials.

“Working on the Herbology essay?” he asked, his eyes focused on his own parchment.

“Yeah, though I don’t know how much more I can possibly write, you?” you replied.

“Nah, I finished that the other day. My muggle studies essay on the other hand…” You glanced up to meet Adrian’s eyes at his statement, giving him a look that meant to explain.

“Mum loves plants, grew up with those bloody curlers’ and books about them,” he stated, referencing the mandrakes. You laughed at his comment, they were truly dreadful to work with.

“What’s your muggle studies essay about?” you asked curiously, eyes scanning to the top of his parchment which read Muggle Transportation.

“Have to write the about the importance of public transportation in muggle communities. Not really sure what to include, I wasn’t really paying attention these last few lessons.” You once again giggled at his explanation.

“Well then…if you help me with this herbology essay than I’ll help you with yours. Not sure if you know this, but I’m quite the muggle expert,” you mused.

“Deal,” Adrian replied, a warm smile growing on his face.

The two of you spent the next hour working on your essays and making small talk, just getting to know each other.

“Ughh I don’t think I can ever write another essay again,” you exclaimed dramatically, throwing your quill across the table in the process.

Adrian laughed as he watched you pack all your things. While you gave him some background information and personal experiences about public transportation in your own community, he didn’t write much.

You continued packing until everything had found it’s place in your book bag. You stood up placing your bag on your back.

“You coming?” you asked.

Adrian looked up, eyes meeting yours. He was clearly confused as to what you meant, and to be honest, you weren’t entirely sure why you were inviting him to your secret place. There was something about Adrian, he was kind, welcoming, exciting, and most of all he felt familiar. He was easy to get along with, and from the small amount of conversation you had with him already, he was funny.

He packed his book bag and followed you out into the corridor.

“Where are you taking me Y/L/N?”

“It’s a secret, now keep up Pucey.”

He continued to follow you down a staircase and through a corridor. When you had finally reached the entrance of the kitchen you urged Adrian forward. He stared at you blankly, confused as ever. You took a step forward, now standing shoulder to shoulder with him. Reaching your hand up you tickled the pear in the middle of the portrait. The portrait swung open and revealed a warmly lit large kitchen with pots and pans draping the ceiling.

“Wow,” Adrian breathed out.

The two of you were immediately with welcoming and friendly house elves singing a chorus of “Welcome back Ms. Y/L/N” and “So good to see you Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Welcome to the Hogwarts kitchen Pucey,” you stated.

You thanked Winky as she handed you a warm mug of pumpkin juice and a chocolate chip muffin. Setting your stuff on the counter, you did your best to split the muffin into two equal halves. You handed a half to Adrian who greeted you with a warm smile of thanks.

“This is incredible Y/N,” Adrian mumbled out, his mouth still full with his half of the muffin.

With a wide-eyed gaze Adrian moved through the kitchen like a kid in the candy store, or similar to you at Honeydukes on a weekend trip to Hogsmeade.

“It’s pretty great. I come here during late night study sessions, if I’ve had a shitty day and I’m and feeling stressed, or if I’m just absolutely craving something when I’m in my dorm. The Hufflepuff common room is just around the corner,” you explained.

“And tonight?” Adrian asked.

“Late night study session…and stressed,” you answered chuckling before trailing off at the end.

“About what?” he asked.

“Well school for starters, and this upcoming quidditch match against Gryffindor. I mean we have a strong team and have worked hard at all are practices, but their seeker…I mean Harry is amazing. And I…I need to play phenomenally.”

“Y/N, you’re one of the most amazing flyers I know. The entire school knows this. You truly do fly circles around everyone, not just Flint,” he laughed, his tone reassuring and positive.

You recounted on the day you had first really noticed Adrian Pucey. Unfortunately, it wasn’t one of your fondest memories of Hogwarts. Your parents were too busy with work to see you off and Flint had called you a mudblood. You were distracted from your thoughts when you heard Adrian’s voice.

“I’m sorry about that Y/N,” he stated rather shamefully

“You know, about that day on the train…” he continued.

“Oh uhm yeah, don’t worry about it. It’s not like you said anything. Besides, I know Flint’s just insecure about being outflown by a girl.” Adrian laughed at your statement.

“True…but still, you didn’t deserve that. That term is outdated and inappropriate, and it shouldn’t matter how you got here. You deserve to be here,” he finished.

You smiled widely at him, surprised and touched by his genuineness. Looking at the clock you realized that it was getting late, and with a mandatory team practice before breakfast, you could use all the sleep you could get.

“Uhm I should—I should get going. It’s getting late,” you stated.

“Uh yeah, thanks Y/N, you know…for showing me your secret spot.”

“Anytime Pucey.”

You followed Adrian back out of the portrait, giggling to yourself as he tripped over his own feet trying to do a cool spin. He stumbled a bit before shaking his head in embarrassment, his own laugh roaring from his chest.

“Bloody hell…I’ll catch you later Y/L/N”

“Yeah, later…” you smiled to yourself. You don’t know what it was about him, but Adrian Pucey continued to have an unexplainable effect on you.

a/n: If you like my work please support by liking/reblogging. Also, feel free to message me about ideas. I haven’t written in a while because I don’t have a lot of time, but when inspiration hits i’ll sit down for hours

Masterlist

[littlegodzilla]

Your Name.

Mini series. Chapter 8.

Warnings: Bad language. Blood. Fighting. Fluff. Confessions.

Words: 3880.

Summary: You almost lost Daryl.

Taglist: @phoenixblack89 @browneyes528 @lilythemadqueen @darylsgarden @thefemininemystiquee @green-eyedladywrites @hail-yourselves @ruinedbythehobbit @xxtinasxxblog @ravenwings73 @spenciepoo338 @b-tchyouainthiphop @minervadashwood @darylssluttt

Your Name masterlist

≈≈≈≈

≈≈≈≈

Part 8.

If things were already tense and despair had set in for the group, things don't get any better when Carl is accidentally shot. You are not there, you are with the others returning to the road when a woman on horseback demands to take Lori because her son has been shot. Of course Lori wastes no time and goes with her, the rest of you go back for the cars and as best you can you make your way to the intersection that the woman on the horse has indicated.

After driving for a few minutes you come across a beautiful farmhouse, a place that almost seemed idyllic with everything that was going on. The gate opens, Rick is standing bloodstained next to Lori and an older white haired man.

"What happened? how's Carl?"

Rick and Lori tell you why Hershel, the man accompanying them, has diagnosed the boy, Rick tells you that Shane has gone to get everything while they continue to care for the little boy.

"Can we help with anything?" you ask the couple, Lori shakes her head, but thanks you with a look.

"You can set up your camp out here, my family's land is big." Hershel proposes.

The Greene family is friendly and nice, it is clear that they are not comfortable with you on their land, they wanted to keep a low profile until all the madness was over, but now you are there settled on their land and that seems to make the father of the family nervous.

"We don't intend to be a nuisance..." You say to Maggie one day, you are close in age and have become friends. "We just want Carl to get well and find Sophia."

"You haven't found the girl yet?" she looks at you worriedly.

"No... Daryl goes out every day to look for her, but... this is huge..." You whisper lowering your gaze.

Every day that passes you see the frustration plastered on Daryl's face, he wants to find her, no matter what. One day you even thought about the possibility that Carol and him were linked, that Ed was just a stone in your partner's path and that Daryl was her real partner, you felt a strange pull in your stomach at the thought of it, as if envy or jealousy overpowered you for a second. You stop as you think about it again, no, you can't be upset, if they were linked you should be happy for them, Daryl is a good man and Carol deserves someone to love and care for her like her ex-husband didn't know how to do.

"I understand...it must be really hard."

"Yes, besides your father looks uncomfortable around us, we wouldn't want to stay any longer than we have to."

"Don't worry about my father, he's an old dog, he barks a lot, but he's really worried like everyone else." She smiles trying to cheer you up.

But when Shane comes back alone, when he had left with Otis a friend of the Greene family, things get more tense if that's possible. Hershel doesn't want Shane around, he knows he's trouble, Maggie puts distance between you, but you see her getting attached to Glenn, which gives you a point in your favor. Now the time you have there is limited, much more so than before, Hershel wants you to leave as soon as Carl is well, Rick tries to talk some sense into him, but he understands his position too.

You know it's none of your business, but you need to talk to Lori, maybe she can get Shane to calm down and thus defuse the situation. You find the woman standing apart from the rest of the group, she seems overwhelmed by something, since the CDC you've noticed her a little strange, which worries you. When you're closer you freeze, Lori sees you and quickly lets her hair down, but you've seen the mark above her ear, small and disguised with the hair, it has Shane's name engraved on it.

"Shane is..." You start to speak.

"No, don't say it. It's a mistake, my partner is Rick..."

"It's one thing for you to want to be with Rick and another..."

"Shane is just a friend." He shushes you again. "Rick and I are meant to be, you can't have your family and suddenly have someone else show up in your life and tell you he's the one you're meant to be with." He tells you nervously and speaking very fast.

"However when you thought Rick was dead, you decided it was a good opportunity to try..."

"Shane told me Rick was dead..." She says angrily, the perfect excuse to hate the man she had been unfaithful to her husband with.

"Yeah, he made a mistake, but he wasn't the only one, you and Rick..."

"He showed up with my name in high school, Rick was the right choice, the one I should choose... and then Shane showed up, but I was already pregnant with Carl..."

That is what you fail to understand, if man enjoys free will why there is the imposition of names. Why are there love triangles like the one you are witnessing now, your own, perhaps? Because you have a Dixon in your skin, but you don't know if you are reciprocated, at least not by Merle, you don't know if Merle will still be alive, and Daryl, does he have a name? You're almost sure he does, but it's not yours. You shake your head trying not to think about it and focus on your partner.

"Don't say anything, please don't say anything to Rick."

"He doesn't know?"

"How would he know? If he knew he wouldn't be my husband anymore, he would have left Shane..." She lowers her gaze and trembles. "I love Rick, I've always loved him... Shane was just a mistake..."

"I think your instinct set you on your way and now you regret it, but that's who you should be with..."

"No! Rick is my husband and I belong with him!" she yells at you and suddenly turns around throwing up off to the side.

"Lori! Are you okay?" You look at her worriedly.

"I-I think I'm pregnant..."

"Shit..." You gasp at the sound of her and look around. "What do you mean you think?"

"I can't be sure, I've asked Glenn to get a test when he goes down to town with Maggie..."

"To Glenn? You know he hates keeping secrets, it's going to give him an ulcer."

"I needed his help!" She looks at you in desperation. "I can't be pregnant! Don't you understand?"

No, you really don't understand, you've always believed that a baby is a cause for joy and excitement, but Lori clearly just wants to get rid of it, even without knowing for sure if she's pregnant or not.

You don't like keeping secrets either, you're also clumsy and nervous about not being able to share information, but it's Lori's decision and you're going to respect it as best you can. There's a small memorial service in Otis' name for his bravery in trying to bring in the medication and braces Carl needed to survive. Daryl snorts after a few minutes in silence and walks out of there, Carol soon leaves too, you stand there a little longer, thinking about everything that is going on. Maybe you should be honest with Daryl, talk to him about the name of your skin and between the two of you decide what will happen from that moment on. You take a deep breath and leave, ready to talk to Daryl, to make things clear once and for all. You're about to climb into the trailer when you overhear the conversation inside.

"Ain't stupid enough to believe that this flower bloomed 'cause my brother." You hear Daryl speak and your heart squeezes. "We'll find yer little girl..."

"Thank you, Daryl..." Carol whispers, her voice still congested with tears.

You hear movement inside the trailer, you circle the vehicle so Daryl doesn't see you when he gets out and you shrink back against the wheel feeling the tears pool in your eyes, your chest hurts and you hate feeling like this. Daryl has given Carol a flower to cheer her up, you should feel proud, seeing the change in Senoia's redneck, but it hurts and you are unable to control your tears.

**

Daryl checks on the horse he borrowed from Hershel's farm, he needs to cover more ground and with the horse he won't have to go back to camp so soon. It's all quiet, but the horse makes a jerky gesture and Daryl tries to keep calm however a hissing sound throws the animal off his guard scaring him, he gets on two legs whinnying.

"Shit!" shouts Daryl before falling off the horse and rolling down the hillside.

**

While Daryl is still out looking for Sophia, the rest of you try to mitigate the tension that has been generated by wanting to prepare a meal at the Greene's house as a token of gratitude for welcoming you into their home. At their farm...

Cooking and preparing the meal keeps your mind clear of other issues you don't want to keep thinking about, on the other hand Andrea has had a little confrontation with Lori, as she wants to go outside with the men, practice her marksmanship and go out to look for Sophia too, but Lori thinks your duty is to be there in the kitchen. You feel divided because you think thanking the family is important, but you also want to learn how to defend yourself, Daryl has given you his knife, but you haven't had a chance to practice yet.

Carol comes into the kitchen to help you with the menu and you tense slightly, running away from the woman is not going to improve the situation, so you do your best to act natural. Lori continues with the vegetables and you chop the meat with your eyes fixed on the knife in your hand.

"Can I help you?" the short-haired woman asks you and you smile.

"Sure, do you mind finishing up? I'd like to go with Andrea and the guys and... practice a little." Lori turns to look at you in disbelief. "I think you're right, both of us, we need to see to it that the camp doesn't fall apart but I think we also need to learn how to defend ourselves..." You shrug. Besides you can't act normal around Carol.

"Okay, you go do something crazy out there, Carol and I will take care of this."

You look at Carol and she smiles kindly picking up the knife you left a moment ago, you're on your way out the door when you hear the two women talking.

"Don't be so hard on her." Carol says to Lori. "Daryl is out there alone, it's normal for her to be scared."

"She says they're nothing..."

"Maybe, but she cares about him anyway, I'm sure she has feelings for him and that scares her."

"And who doesn't? The Dixons have never been reliable."

"Daryl is different...he cares about her too, I've seen it."

You don't want to listen anymore, you can't, you run out of the house at full speed looking for the group where the men are practicing their aim with their guns, you need to get back to keeping your mind occupied.

"No!" You then hear Rick's screams not far from where you are. "¡No!"

Andrea has fired the rifle she has been so lovingly coddling these past few days, but something is wrong, the men look agitated as they run towards the direction of the shot.

You don't know why, but you feel it's hard to breathe.

**

Daryl opens his eyes slowly, his body hurts a lot, he doesn't know where he is, but he feels his body resting on something much more comfortable than the river.

He has fallen down the slope, piercing his side with his own arrow, he has barely managed to tear off the sleeves of his shirt, in bad time he decided to give you his knife, and has cut the bleeding, but when trying to climb the wall of earth and stones he has fallen again, becoming unconscious. The loss of blood and the blow to the head do not help him to keep his eyes open, however, he detects a presence that forces him to stay awake.

"Look at ya, after all we've been through, after all our shit, yer gonna die like a dog in the end." He would recognize that voice anywhere, he even feels relief at first.

"Merle..."

"What happened to ya, lil'brother, what are ya doin' here?"

"A little girl..."

"A girl? Yer into that kind of thing now?"

"Shut up... a little girl is missing..." He explains, and tries to keep his eyes open.

"Wow, and they've let their flea dog loose to look for her, is that it?" He hears the irony in his voice and stirs in the mud.

"We went looking for her...Rick and I, but she's disappeared..."

"Rick? The same Rick who left me tied up on a rooftop? That Rick?"

"We went back to look for ya, brother, but ya ain't there..." He fights back and feels a sharp pain in his head.

"Are ya sure that's all yer doing it for?" Daryl feels goosebumps rise on his skin at his brother's words. "Since when did ya become his bitch?"

"Ain't anybody's bitch..." He growls, but can't keep his eyes open.

"No? What about her?" When Merle utters your name, Daryl's eyes widen again and he looks for him with his gaze. "Yer doing this for her, aren't ya? Ya want her to think yer a good person." He scoffs and Daryl shakes his head.

"No... that's not..."

"Don't try to lie to me, bro, I'm in yer head. We both know what you're thinking." Merle leans over his brother and tugs at his shirt revealing the mark on his chest, your name across his right breastplate. "How long have you had it, little brother, how long have you known?"

"I dunno..." He whispers avoiding your gaze, but Merle holds him down to force him to look at you.

"You're lying again, but listen to me good, no one's going to care about you, no one cares what you're doing, to them you'll always be a filthy, filthy redneck. You need to get out of here, forget about all of them and come back for me, brother." He orders him. "Only I care about you, Daryl, you know that..."

"I know..." He replies without the strength for anything else.

"Alright, time to get up bro, let's go."

After that things got complicated, he defeated two Walkers who were after him and Merle's words were still in his head "only I care about you." With that thought, Daryl managed to come to, he took with him some souvenirs of the infected that had attacked him and climbed the dirt wall, slipping in some stretch, having to stop as the pain was unbearable, but Merle was waiting for him upstairs and his voice irritated him, forcing him to continue. When he managed to get out he went straight back to the camp, only to be greeted by his companions with guns in their hands, a shot was heard and he remembers nothing more.

When he manages to open his eyes, a stab of pain makes him turn his head away with a grunt. When he focuses his eyes he discovers Hershel beside him with bandages on his hands and stitches. He's being tended to from what he can make out, he's safe, the shot didn't kill him.

"Daryl." He hears Rick's voice and turns to look at him. "Are you okay?"

"Fucking fine..." He grunts and hisses. "What happened?"

"You got shot by mistake, but it's a relief to see you're okay."

"One less redneck, I guess." He shrugs, but falls silent as he sees Shane and Rick look at each other dubiously. "What's up?"

"You found Sophia's doll...what happened?"

Daryl settles on the bed as he tells them what happened to him, Hershel continues to work on his wounds, Daryl tries to hide his body as best he can without hindering the retired vet's care, but he's sure his companions have already seen everything he's trying to hide. No one says anything, they focus on following the directions and explanations Daryl gives them as he points out on a map the path he took with the horse and approximately where he found the doll before falling off the horse.

"You took Nervous Nelly, if you had asked me, you would have avoided all this." Hershel interjects.

"If I had asked ya would ya have left me the horse?"

"It's a possibility, I'm using up my drug resource faster than I expected. I don't want you to stay in the house, but for now you can rest here."

"Thanks Hershel." Rick sincerely agrees, the man shrugs getting up from the bed.

"Well, if you'll excuse me I'm going to fix a broken nose." Says the man again leaving the room.

"Broken nose?" asks Daryl looking at Shane and Rick.

"Oh yeah, your girl beat the crap out of Andrea for shooting you." Scoffs Shane and Daryl's eyes widen.

"Shane, don't take that as a joke." Rick scolds him. "T-Dog couldn't separate them."

"She'd gone crazy." He makes it very clear to the second cop and Daryl smiles, not consciously, but he does. He has to admit he would have liked to see it.

"And she broke her nose?"

"And I think she's pulled out a fair amount of hair too."

"That's enough you two, Daryl try to rest and recover, we'll keep looking around the area you've indicated." Rick says walking out of the room with Shane.

Daryl stands there staring at nothing for a few seconds, the painkillers Hershel has given him won't take long to take effect, but the discussion he has had with his brother in his mind is still very much present. Something is changing in him, Merle's words make less and less sense and following Rick seems the right thing to do, but think about you, is he really doing all this for you? What is he trying to prove? Is he really trying to be impressive? He grunts and snorts pulling the sheets to cover him up to his chin and close his eyes.

He needs to rest, to stop thinking about you for at least a second.

**

"I'm fine!" You bark when Carol tries to look at your injuries, you may have beaten up Andrea, but the blonde fought back and your eyebrow is broken and your wrist hurts. "That bitch deserved it!"

"I said sorry! I didn't know it was him!" the woman defends herself as Hershel checks her nose.

"Fuck you! I should have busted your teeth with that shotgun!"

"God, you're just like them." Snorts Andrea and you spring to your feet, you're not going to let her insult you, much less belittle them.

"What did you say!"

"Oh for God's sake, she's gone mad." She tries to run away from you, but the rest of the group blocks you and Carol pulls you back.

"Don't listen to her, she's just scared. Just like you." She tries to talk some sense into you by healing your eyebrow. "But Daryl is fine. You're not going to lose him." She encourages you and you feel your body shudder. You hate that she knows how to use the right words to calm you down.

"She shouldn't have shot...he was too far away..."

"And she knows it, believe me she's sorry for it, but ever since Amy died she's trying to make sense of why she's still here, you know?"

"Like everyone else, but no one has shot her..." You mutter and Carol smiles.

"No, but you broke her nose..." She says amused, you look at her sideways and smile with embarrassment, maybe you have gone too far, maybe you should have thought better before acting, but....

When you saw Daryl's body being dragged by Rick and Shane, unconscious, full of mud, blood, the head wound. Your vision was covered with a red mantle, something like that had never happened to you before, when you arrived at the blonde's side and saw her apologizing and with the gun in her hand you were only able to throw yourself on her and hit her with all your strength.

You certainly never had any experience in fighting, but you hit her with all the strength you had until T-Dog grabbed you under the armpits and pulled you off her, you kept screaming and kicking until you lost sight of both Andrea and Daryl.

"I'm sorry..." You whisper and Carol smiles warmly.

"You don't have to tell that to me...do you?"

"I can't, not now..." You look down and Carol nods understanding what you mean. "B-but I want to apologize to you, because these days I've been stupid with you..." You confess to her and Carol looks at you confused. You bite your lip hesitating for a second and then you pull up the sleeve of your shirt showing her the name of your skin. The woman raises her eyebrows in surprise and looks around at you. "I know it doesn't happen all the time, but it wouldn't be the first either... I-I want you to know that if you and..."

"Oh... Oh no, no, please..." Carol stops your speech looking at you with affection and flattery. "Not that, Daryl don't..."

"Daryl cares a lot about you, he clearly has some interest towards you, and..."

"Stop, stop, you're getting confused; Daryl isn't doing this for me." He looks at you with a small smile, his eyes full of tears. "I don't even know if my little girl is still alive, but I think he's trying to make amends for how his brother was, show us that he can be useful to this group."

"He is, he always has been..."

"I know, but he needs to know it too, do you understand me?" he smiles and touches your wrist gently. "You should let Hershel look at this, it might be broken or something."

***

You have to admit that the bandage around your wrist up to your elbow helps hide your name, but it's starting to get hot and the fabric itches your skin, still you know it's a very small price to pay after the fight. Daryl has returned to his tent, Hershel was allowing him to stay in the house, but he has preferred to return to camp with the others. You approach his tent when you see Andrea come out of it, you pause watching her bruised face, let her leave and peek inside Daryl's tent.

"Are visitors still allowed?" you joke sitting down gingerly as Daryl sits up buttoning his shirt.

"Andrea has come to apologize, more than a visitor she seemed to be under threat." He jokes and you feel your cheeks redden. "What happened to her?"

"The rifle recoil, I think... hit her in the face..." You whisper looking at the floor of the tent.

"Yeah... and ya?" he asks again, you feel him lift your chin brushing your skin with his fingers, you look at him and he sees your bruised eyebrow, but then he holds your wrist carefully. "What really happened?"

"I-I might have hit her.. a little..." You throat clear and hear him snort in amusement. "I-I may have sprained it from hitting her too hard and not being used to it..." You admit with embarrassment.

"Y'know what... ? if she had killed me, ya would have gotten rid of me, right?" He looks at you with intensity and you swallow hard, you feel his thumb caress your wrist and you feel confused, his gaze seems to want to say something, but he doesn't add anything else.

"I-I..." You stammer, trying to put your thoughts in order. "You said I wouldn't get rid of you so easily... you're not going to get rid of me either." You try to joke as you smile and squeeze his hand.

**

To be Continued...

***

I hope you liked it!!

See you in the next chapter!!

[zepskies]

Hey, friend!! I was so excited to read your comments on this one!

Yep, that opening scene is definitely an homage to that Jo/Ellen spat from season 2, but it still fit within the overall plot of this story.

And maybe in your AU story it's not a bad thing that she get's out of there. A change of scenery is not so bad sometimes and can clear her head.

Yeah in this case I'm leaning toward Jo carving out her own beat, so to speak, and not dwell anymore on the past and what could've been (with Dean). You'll see how that loose end resolves.

The murder mystery is getting more and more exciting. 😃 Gladly, Cas told the boys some more information, but the connections you made are really interesting. I mean, 'Edlund Emporium'? Does that mean that your Chuck is involved? 🤔 'Cause that was his artist name. And that Nick is also involved was kinda shocking, but honestly I'm not surprised at all. 🙄

Oooh all good questions! Chuck is just a paramedic in this story, so that "Edlund Emporium" is just a small easter egg, but I'm glad Nick's involvement is shocking! I have a couple more threads to tie in that I hope will shock you even more. 😏

Oh Nick think's he's hot shit, but we all know the truth. 🙄

And he showed of the best side of him again. I really hate him. 😤 He's a sleazy, manipulative asshat who will probably give us more trouble along the line. I can just feel it in my guts.

You're not wrong. Nick will definitely be back for more havoc (you'll see), but at least not for a couple of chapters lol.

The dynamic between Y/N and George is a little out of balance I'd say. She was already on edge and you just had to top that, don't you? But I do get her. They're the only family they have left and she wants to keep him around as long as possible. But like George said, he's old enough and he probably already knows what's going on with him. 🥺

It's another one of those situations where you can see both sides, right? There is a "reality" to her point, that she has by necessity needed to care for George because of his age and illnesses. But at the same time, he is her grandfather and having your autonomy is important.

Goddamn I was right! I just knew, it would be a car accident! 🤯 And you dragged George into it! Why did you do that? 😭 Wasn't the day not bad enough already?

I tried to warn you guys that there'd be drama ahead! 🥲🥲

So, you can imagine the relieve I felt when he woke up and wasn't dead... but I'm wondering... didn't they do an X-Ray on Y/N or something? To check for internal bleeding... and stuff? 🤔

Ahhh, you pointed out a flaw in my knowledge of hospital protocol despite all the medical procedurals I've seen lmao. Let's say they did that when the doctor came in; in Chicago Med their state of the art Emergency Department has an x-ray machine stationed in the trauma ED room to take a quick scan. 😂

But I'm so glad you're enjoying the drama! There will be more to come in Part 11...

Smoke Eater - Part 10

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x F. Reader 

Summary: Dean Winchester is the cocky, but well-respected Lieutenant at Firehouse 25. He leads by example, but he’s also known to break a few hearts. He’s starting to crave something he’s never had, though. Something stable. Something real. 

That’s when he meets you, on a truly terrible day, trapped in a rickety old elevator.   

🔥Series Masterlist

Word Count: 6,300 Tags/Warnings: **Sexual harassment, angst, perilous situations, hurt/comfort

Part 10: “Toil and Trouble”

After visiting his father, Dean spent the rest of his day unsettled. He couldn’t put his finger on why, exactly, but he had a gut feeling that John knew more than he was saying.

He understood that his dad was looking out for him, trying to protect him, but Dean had a problem.

He didn’t like being left in the dark.

You were working later than usual that afternoon, so he had more than one reason to invite Sam and Cas out for a drink. They met at the Roadhouse and sat in their usual corner. Unfortunately, they were getting drinks and a show.

Jo stormed out of the back room behind the bar with her mother hot on her heels.

“You stop right there, Joanna Beth—”

“Mom, you’re not going to talk me out of it! I’m taking the damn test and I’m going to get in and I’m going to the Police Academy!”

“And all the money I shelled out for you to go to college, to get your degree, something I never got, by the way.”

“I know. And I’m grateful for that, but I did the college thing for you and Dad,” Jo said.“I don’t want to go into business. I never did.”

“No, because owning your own business ain’t respectable,” Ellen said, with all due sarcasm as she crossed her arms. “Never mind that I thought I could leave this place to you someday. Never mind that you’d rather be walking these streets with a gun than take care of the last thing your father left us.”

Jo finally stopped at that. She turned on her heel and withered slightly.

“That’s not what I’m saying,” she said. “I just don’t want to serve at a bar my whole life, Mom. I want to help people.”

Ellen’s brows shot up at that. She leaned back on her heels, as if she’d been delt a blow. Dean looked over and saw the guilt that set over Jo’s features, but neither Harvelle woman backed down.

“So you don’t want to end up like me,” said Ellen, clicking her tongue. “Okay. That’s fine.”

“Mom, that’s not what I meant,” Jo tried, but her mother waved her off.

“No,” Ellen’s voice came out sharp as she went for a hand towel. “You do what you want, Jo. You’re grown, I suppose.”

She wiped down a few droplets by Cas’s hand before whipping the damp towel over her shoulder. And she walked down the line to continue serving her customers, leaving Jo standing at the other end, disheartened.

Sam and Dean shared a glance with each other, then with Cas, though they tried to keep their heads down and their noses out of the family business. Frankly, they were relieved when Jo left the bar.

Still, Dean couldn’t help but glance up at Ellen when she came back their way. He opened his mouth, but she beat him to it.

“Don’t you ask me if I’m okay, Dean Winchester,” she said. Her voice was quieter, tired, but it still cut like a whip.

He bobbed his head and looked down at his beer. “Yes, ma’am.”

But after a moment, his eyes raised to find Ellen’s face.

“You want another?” she asked, pointing to his drink. It was still half full, but Dean nodded with a smile, just to help her out. She seemed to want to distract herself with work. He was liable to do the same thing when he was stressed. 

She nodded with a slight smile. After she left to go grab it for him, he raised his brows and looked over at his brother and his friend, whistling lowly.

“And we thought our family had issues,” Sam remarked. Dean huffed at that.

“Speaking of.” Dean turned to Cas on his left. “Dad told me you guys are making headway on this crime boss-turned-arsonist.”

Cas met him with a shrewd brow raise. “What did John tell you?”

Dean frowned, his brows knitting together. “I hate it when you do that.”

“What?”

“Cover his ass,” Dean replied. He lowered his voice to ask, “Have you figured out what’s connecting all the vics? What ties them to Azazel, besides the brand marks?”

Cas sighed, running a hand over his face. Meanwhile, Sam watched the exchange with tight lips.

“Dean, you know I can’t tell you that,” said Cas.

“Hey, this guy’s starting fires in my neck of the woods. I can help,” Dean said.

“We’re already working with Arson—”

“Oh yeah. Sounds like Dad’s party line.”

“Dean,” Sam interjected, but Dean shook his head stubbornly.

“No, Sam. This isn’t just about fires, or some random nut job offing people,” Dean said. He tried his best to keep his voice quiet, despite the frustration coursing through his blood. “This is about Mom, no matter how much you wish it wasn’t.”

The brothers stared at each other for a moment, their silence charged with unspoken confrontation.

Eventually, Sam relented with a shallow breath through his nose. He turned to Cas, as did Dean. With the weight of both Winchesters on him, Cas finally had to sigh as well. He set down his whiskey on the countertop.

“Jerry Stillwell, the CPA,” he began. “We traced a secondary bank account in his name. It showed several ‘consultant invoices,’ for tens of thousands of dollars. The payments were wired from a company called Edlund Emporium.”

“Okay,” Sam nodded. “What does it lead back to?” 

“By all accounts, it’s just a wholesaler of antiques,” Cas explained. “But we believe it might be a shadow company for a larger enterprise. Drug runners are known to hide their product within secret compartments in furniture, in the frames behind paintings, etcetera.”

“Yeah, I’ve seen Narcos,” Dean quipped.

“Who owns the Emporium?” Sam asked.

“We don’t know yet,” Cas admitted. “Its records are proving difficult to trace. However, the one relevant thing we were able to retrieve from Stillwell’s home files was an old audit of Edlund Emporium from 1996. It showed some old statements of the company using a storage facility downtown: Stull Storage.”

Stull Storage. Dean’s head tilted in thought. Why did that name sound familiar?

Cas noted his recognition with another nod.

“That particular storage facility was also linked to a money laundering scheme. You’re thinking of Paul Richardson, the father of two, who was killed in last month’s fire,” said Cas. “Well, as it turns out, he was a defense attorney who failed to get his client acquitted for that case. His client was a known drug runner, decades ago. And he actually pushed product for Azazel.”

“How do you know that?” Dean asked.

Cas sighed. “Your father remembered him from his time in Narcotics.”

Shit, Dean thought. He looked over at his brother, and by now, Sam’s gears were turning at Mach speed.

“Who owns Stull Storage then?” Sam asked. 

“A company called Savage & Co.,” Cas said. He looked over more pointedly at Dean, whose eyes widened in realization. 

“My girlfriend’s company?”

You hated having to work late. Not because of the working, but because the office was much quieter after 5:00 p.m. Too quiet.

Your desk phone rang, making you jolt in your seat. Once you saw the extension calling, you exhaled loudly and resigned yourself to answering the phone.

“Yes?”

“Come up to my office for a sec. I wanna discuss something with you,” said Nick.

And that. You really hated that.

Your eyes closed as you took in a breath.

“I’m working on an upsell for the Greenway account. Can we meet in the morning?” you asked.

“This is important,” he insisted.

You held in a sigh, but you agreed and hung up. You steeled yourself and took your phone with you as you decided to take the elevator up to the 30th floor. At least if it got stuck, it would get you out of this impromptu meeting with your boss.

Unfortunately for you, Betsy ran like clockwork. You were at Nick’s office within minutes—the penthouse suite of the building. Lavishly furnished, complete with a full leather couch set and coffee table for entertaining corporate big wigs, a large desk for Nick to pretend to work, and a fully stocked bar, where he did most of his “actual” work.

An expensive looking set of gold clubs were leaned against the wall, next to the bar. You knew it was his pride and joy, and he often brought it up in conversation when he was “networking.”

Just now, the sun was setting through the large windows overlooking his desk. The view was quite picturesque; the only thing that marred it was Nick Savage himself. He smiled and beckoned you into the room when he noticed you. You left the door open when you entered.

He got up from his desk and gestured over to the lounge area. He hinted at you taking a seat beside him on the same couch, but you sat on the opposite one, leaving the coffee table between you. His smile lessened a pinch. But he got up, as if he was just remembering something. He made his way to the bar.

“Want a drink?” he asked you over his shoulder.

“No, thank you,” you flatly replied. “Nick, I told Mr. Greenway that I would have that paperwork into processing by end-of-day today.”

“Yep, you are working hard,” Nick nodded. “Miss Busy Bee.”

He filled a tumbler three quarters of the way with bourbon and took it back with him to the couch where you sat. You crossed your legs and subtly shifted backwards. It left a foot or so of distance in between.  

“That’s what I like about you,” he continued. “You do what it takes to get the job done.”

“I take my work seriously,” you said, in a pointed tone.

Nick inclined his head.

“You sure do. And you’re doing very well. In just a few years, you’ve racked up more accounts and upsells under your belt than anyone else on the team right now. Even Josh,” he said. “In fact, I’m considering you two as my top candidates for the Senior Sales Manager position. Adam’s leaving us for another company next month.”

That compliment surprised you, as well as the potential promotion. You’d heard that Adam Milligan was interviewing with other companies, but you hadn’t known that he was leaving. You blinked, nodding slowly.

“Thank you,” you said. “I appreciate the consideration…and I would look forward to the opportunity to grow in the company.” 

Nick smiled. “Good! And while I believe in you, I just need to know that you’d be willing to do what it takes in this new role.”

That had a subtle alarm trembling up your spine.

“How so?” you asked. “Like you said, I think my margins speak for themselves, along with my ability to manage projects. I think that’ll translate well with managing the team.”

“But you’ve never managed people,” Nick pointed out. He leaned an arm on the back of the couch, his fingers drawing near to your arm. “Tell you what. I want to keep chatting about this, but I’m getting hungry. Why don’t I order some dinner, and we’ll keep pow-wowing.”

“Actually,” you said, leaning away from his hand. “I have plans this evening.”

He raised a brow. “Oh, yeah? What’re you up to?”

You didn’t feel you had to give him any details about your personal life, let alone that you didn’t actually have plans tonight (except for watching The Princess Bride with George. It was your favorite movie to watch together).

“I’m having dinner with my boyfriend,” you answered with a tight smile.

Your womanly pride hated that you had to use Dean as an excuse, but maybe then your boss would get the hint.

Nick’s lips thinned a bit as he leaned back in his seat. “Hmm, didn’t know you had one of those.”

“You met him,” you replied, arching a brow. “He’s a firefighter, remember?”

Nick nodded, though he made a non-committal sound.

“All right, well, I should go actually. He’s picking me up,” you said.

Though when you moved to stand, Nick’s hand wrapped around your wrist. His eyes met yours meaningfully, edged with interest as he eyed you.

“You sure you can’t stick around?” he asked.

His hold was firm enough to scare you, a subtle gasp catching in your throat when your eyes flicked up to his in warning. You instinctively jerked your hand back.

“Don’t touch me,” you said, even as you hated the slight tremor in your voice. “I’m warning you, Nick. I will go to HR. I don’t care how many lawyers you threaten me with. I’m not interested.”

Nick’s head tilted as he watched you with a frown.

“I hope you think hard, sweetheart.” He relaxed against the couch with arrogance, and it was beginning to make you sick. He crossed his arms as you stood and began to storm out of the office. All the while, his words followed you.

“Think about where you want to end up in this company, and who’s gonna get you there.”

You still had work to do, but you weren’t taking any chances. After you made it back to your office, you grabbed your work laptop and left for home. You had to take several calming breaths as you got into your car and turned the key into the ignition, but your hands still shook.

Then the car spluttered, refusing to start. You blinked, tried it again.

Still, the engine struggled and the dashboard shook.

Damn it, damn it! Don’t do this to me, you silently begged. You knew you should’ve had Dean look the old car over weeks ago. He’d offered more than once, but you kept forgetting. You bit your lip.

“Please,” you whispered. You just wanted to get the hell out of here. You glanced up and around the parking lot to make sure it was still empty, that no one was approaching.

After another painfully long moment of puttering, the car finally grumbled to life. A relieved breath rushed out of your body, and you began to peel out of the parking lot. 

I can’t take much more of this, you thought as you drove home.

You also thought about calling Andréa. She still didn’t know all the details about what you were dealing with at the office. In fact, she knew little more than Dean.

And you really wanted to tell Dean. He had a way of calming your nerves and reassuring you when you felt out of sorts…and making you feel safe.

But you also knew how both your best friend and your boyfriend would react. Andréa would force you to go to HR, and then it would undoubtedly get messy. She could even get fired, if Nick was petty about it (and he usually was). You couldn’t afford to lose your job either.

Whereas Dean…

God, he’ll be so pissed, you thought. You had seen just a flash of his jealous side before, with Gordon. And that was one of his friends.

This would be infinitely worse.

Dean was protective. It was literally in his job description, but it was also just who he was as a person, you’d come to find. While you loved that about him, you also couldn’t have him storming your office building to wring Nick’s neck.

You needed your job. And even though you had updated your resume, with how hard you’d been working, you hadn’t had time to start scouring the online job boards…

You blew out a long breath. Your eyes were beginning to burn with frustrated tears. You sniffed and wiped under your eyes in vain.

Damn it, what the hell am I gonna do?

The question burned through your mind over and over, even when you got home. Your grandfather looked up from the show he was watching in the living room when you came in.

“Hey there, stranger,” he said. “Workin’ late?”

“Yeah,” you replied dully. You dumped your purse and workbag on the dining table and continued into the kitchen, not seeing how George frowned.

He slowly got up, wincing and at his aching joints and stifling a wet cough. He paused for a moment as a bout of nausea threatened to bowl him over.

When it passed, after a moment, he straightened. And he followed you into the kitchen, where you were peering into a near empty fridge.

“We barely have anything here,” you said with a sigh. “Okay, guess I’m going to the store. I can pick up something for dinner on the way home.”

“I’ll go with you,” George said. “I’ve been cooped up here all day.”

You shook your head without looking back at him, still making a mental note of everything you needed to buy.

“I heard you coughing. It doesn’t sound like your asthma,” you said, letting out a breath. Add a dash of worry for your grandfather’s health to spruce up your evening.

George sighed.

“Honey,” he tried. You were already shaking your head as you closed the fridge and turned to him with a frown.

“That primary doctor’s an idiot,” you said. “I’m calling your oncologist tomorrow morning.”

 You went to grab your phone to set a reminder for yourself, but George stopped you with a hand on your arm.

“Would you stop?” he barked. “Just stop it!”

You blinked wide, and both literally and figurately, you took a step back. He wasn’t one to raise his voice, even when you were a child. But your earlier frustrations already had you on edge, and frankly, this was the last thing you needed.

“What?” you snapped back. “Clearly you need to see the doctor, and I’m not going to let you dismiss whatever it is you’re hiding and don’t want to tell me about! I’m sick of it.”

“Let me?” he said. “That right there is our problem. I’m not a goddamn kid. Damn well ain’t your kid or your responsibility. And I’m sick of you treating me like I already got one foot in the grave!”

You flinched as if he’d physically hurt you. Your eyes inevitably flooded with tears.

George relented when he saw it. He leaned a hand on the kitchen counter to steady himself.

“Look, hun. I’m 82. Every day, I take a stack of pills that sometimes make me feel worse than the damn cancer did. I got no illusions, and I do appreciate everything you do for me,” he said. “But you’re not my caretaker. You’re not my nurse. You’re my granddaughter.”

He grasped your hand with a warm squeeze. You sniffed and shook your head.

“I understand what you’re saying. And maybe…okay, I know I can be overbearing sometimes. But there’s a reality here that you don’t want to face,” you began. Though it was hard, you met his eyes.

“I’m not just your granddaughter,” you said. “I haven’t been since Grandma died. Because I’ve had to be more. Because you’re the only family I have, and I’ll make that choice every time.”

You let go of his hand and took up your purse, wiping at your eyes.

“But if you really want to come to the store, let’s go,” you said.

George stared back at you at a loss. Deep down, he knew there was a good deal of truth in your words, but he still felt like you weren’t quite hearing him.

Still, he followed you to the car.

You got into the driver’s seat of your Camry and briefly closed your eyes in a silent prayer. Then you turned the key in the ignition. The car turned on, to your surprise and relief.

You started the short drive out of your suburban neighborhood and down to the nearest grocery store. It was only 20 minutes away, and traffic wasn’t bad, but somehow the drive seemed to take an eternity on the two-way street. There was grass and forest on the passenger side, and the rest of the city approaching on the other. 

Unbidden, your mind kept drifting back to this afternoon in Nick’s office. His words were like tendrils of black, oily ink coiling through your mind.

“I hope you think hard, sweetheart.”

Your hand tightened on the steering wheel, your teeth clenching. You could picture his lazy, arrogant smirk as he leaned back into the couch.

“Think about where you want to end up in this company, and who’s gonna get you there.”

You wanted to take one of his precious golf clubs and take a few swings at the man’s head.

“Something wrong with the car?” George asked.

“What?” you asked, flinching in your seat. But you realized then what he was saying. Your car was shaking, like it was about to stall. What the hell?

None of the service lights on the car were on, but this was a warning sign you couldn’t ignore.

George looked up as you approached a curve. “Slow down!”

Your gaze lifted just in time to see how an SUV from the opposite lane of oncoming traffic was drifting too far into your lane, on the curve. You corrected quickly with a jerk of the steering wheel, but your car jolted and stuck on the wheels’ position, and you couldn’t force it straight again.

It sent the car veering off the road and onto the grass, then tumbling down the hill into a sharp decline. You didn’t see the tree until you were feeling the impact of it hitting the front of the car, and nothing more.

You blinked awake, slowly. The side of your face felt numb as you manage to raise it from the airbag. Blood dripped down your nose over your lips, which you only realized after tasting copper on your tongue. You raised a trembling hand to your mouth and wiped some of it away.

Sucking in a breath, you turned your head. Fuck, that hurt.

“Grandpa? …Grandpa!”

George was still unconscious, though he didn’t look like he was bleeding. His airbag thankfully deployed as well. You looked around for your phone…if you remembered right, it had been in your purse. You looked over, and you saw it by his feet.

Though you were held back by your seatbelt and the airbag, and your whole body felt stiff and aching, you reached over and grabbed the purse’s strap. From there you pulled it towards you, with pained grunts, and whimpers, and shallow breaths.

When you were able to fish out your cell, your blood-stained thumb shook while swiping through your contacts.

You knew you should call 911 first, but your instincts took hold. There was only one person you could call. Your eyes began to burn the longer the line rang. By the time it finally connected, the first tears welled up.

“Hey, baby. Good timing,” Dean answered. He sounded tired. “Was just thinking about calling you.”

Your heart had traveled up into your throat to hear his voice. But now, it was hard to get your tongue to unstick from the roof of your mouth.

“Dean,” you managed, though your throat became clogged with emotion. Your tears blurred your vision and finally slid down your cheeks.

You tried to push at your seatbelt; it felt like it was cutting your circulation across your chest. But that proved to be a mistake, as the tight fabric just pressed into the bruising you already felt forming against your skin. You couldn’t contain a small whimper.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. His tone was more alert now, changed with the distress he likely heard in your voice.

You took in a shuddering breath as more tears rolled down your face.

“I need help.”

Dean had already been home from the bar when you called. But when he heard your voice, full of pain, your plea for help—it was like a stone dropping into his stomach.

“What happened? Where are you?” he asked. Already he was off the couch and looking for his wallet and keys. Sam was crashing at Eileen’s tonight. Dean would have to call him later. He locked the apartment and hastened down the stairs.

You were eventually able to tell him that your car had swerved after locking up on you. That you’d crashed into a ditch, against a tree.

“Grandpa’s with me. He still hasn’t woken up,” you said through tears. “I can’t move—”

“Don’t!” Dean interrupted, another lance of panic running through him. But he gentled, hearing your soft crying. “Don’t move. It’s okay, sweetheart. I’m comin’ to get you. Did you call 911?”

“No…not yet,” you admitted with a sniff.

He nodded to himself. “All right. I’m gonna call this in, make sure they’re on the way.”

“Don’t hang up, please,” you begged.

Dean was torn. He wanted to comfort you, but he knew he needed to get the fire department there as soon as possible.

“I won’t, I promise. Just hold on while I make the call,” he said as he climbed into his car. “I’m going to get the team out to you, okay?”

You sniffled again, but you finally agreed. Dean put you on hold while he called 911. All the while he was driving out of his neighborhood and onto the main road. He gave them his badge number to make sure they knew who he was, and that his girlfriend and her grandfather needed help on 32nd Street and Parker.

After he hung up with the operator, he got back on the line with you and kept you company while he drove. He gave you reassuring words, tried to keep you calm with a few wise cracks to lighten you up. Some of them you seemed to appreciate (others you didn’t).

When he pulled up to the right location, he didn’t see your car at first. That is, until he pulled over to the side of the road. He saw the edge of your bumper just over the slope, and then the rest of your Camry in the ditch. The hood was crumpled like an accordion into a tree, but at least it wasn’t smoking too bad (or on fire).

His heart clenched, but he forced himself to act—with the same fight or flight response he had to overpower with every call he responded to on the job.

Dean climbed out of his car and quickly grabbed the steel Halligan he kept in the trunk. It was essentially a more professional crowbar.

Then he jogged down into the ditch.

He went to the driver’s side first. He saw your tear-streaked face through the window, could hear your muffled voice call his name. He tried to open the door, but it wouldn’t budge.

“Can you unlock it?” he asked.

“I tried earlier,” you said. “It won’t open.”

Dean nodded. “Okay, no problem. Lean back.” 

You obliged him, and once he was sure you were ready, Dean used the Halligan to pry the door open. He could’ve busted open the window, but this was safer.

Once the door was cracked open enough, he pushed it the rest of the way so he could get to you. He punctured through the air bag with the sharp end of the Halligan and pushed it down to deflate it a bit. It allowed you to grab onto his arm, and he reached for you, cupping your cheek and wiping at your tears with his thumb.

“Dean…”

“It’s okay, sweetheart. I’ve got you,” he said, when you tearfully squeezed his arm. He noticed the drying blood around your nose and stained down your blouse. You were still dressed for work.

“Dean-o, hey,” said George from the passenger side. He was awake, but his eyes were half-lidded.

“Hey, George,” Dean nodded with a smile, to hide his concern. “How’re you doin’ over there?”

“Okay,” George tried, but it ended on a wet cough.

“Check on him. Please,” you asked. Dean nodded, but first, he leaned in a pressed a kiss to your forehead, letting out a subtle breath of relief. You closed your eyes, and a couple more tears slipped down. You squeezed his hand gratefully.

“Stay put for me,” he said. You hummed in agreement. And by now he could hear the sirens of an ambulance nearby.

Good, he thought, especially when he went over to the passenger side and wrenched the door open. He leaned George back in his seat, away from the airbag, and measured his pulse at his clammy wrist. It was a bit too fast for Dean’s liking.

“I’m good, right?” George asked. He was pale and sweating.  

“That’s right. You’re gonna be hittin’ the roller disco in no time,” Dean said. George smiled in amusement, letting out a huff.

Dean smirked, then gave you a reassuring look. “The paramedic’s coming now. Just keep taking even breaths for me.”

A couple of minutes later, two paramedics came with a board and a neck brace to carry someone out. Dean recognized them from the shift opposite to his: Ed and Harry. They were a couple of chuckle brothers, but they did their job well. Dean instructed them to get George out first, and he helped them do it.

“We’re going to get to you next, ma’am,” Ed told you.

“Is he okay?” you asked. Worry for your grandfather was steeped in your watery eyes.

“They’re taking him up to the ambulance now. Another one’s coming for you,” Dean said. He was on his way back over to your side of the car, but he hurried when he saw you trying to get out. Apparently you’d managed to unclip your seatbelt when he wasn’t looking.

“Whoa, hey! What’re you doing?” Dean said. You gave him a small heart attack when you nearly fell out of the car on your shaky legs. He guided you back to sit, but you were adamant about getting out.

“I don’t want to wait,” you said sternly, though the effect was hampered by the way your voice also trembled.

“Okay, okay. I gotcha,” Dean nodded, but he urged you to let him help. He was careful in how he slipped his arms behind your back and under your knees. “Any sharp pain? In your neck, anywhere else?”

Truthfully, your neck did hurt. But it wasn’t that bad, you reasoned. The rest was just aches and bruises you were sure you would have later. You rested against his chest.

“I’m okay,” you said. Your arm curled around his shoulder while your free hand laid against his chest. “Thank you.”

Dean sighed and pressed another kiss to your hair, and then your forehead before he made his way up the slope with you in his arms. Once he got back onto the road, he spoke to Donna Hanscum, the police officer who’d arrived at the scene. She worked in the same precinct as his father and Jody.

You briefly explained what happened to cause the crash—the SUV drifting and your car locking up out of your control. Donna took notes all the while. Dean then let her know that he was taking you to the hospital.

“She really should wait for the ambulance,” Donna said, though her eyes were kind, taking in your tear-streaked face and the way you clung to Dean. She might have to visit you later for a more detailed statement, but she knew an honest mistake when she saw one.

“Eh, I’m saving them a trip,” Dean said. “That’s gas and labor cuttin’ costs right there.”

Donna shook her head, despite a smile.

“All right, Dean. Just go.” She gave you one last look of sympathy. “Feel better, hun. Looks like you’re in good hands.”

You nodded with a small smile. Letting out a breath, you closed your eyes and relaxed against Dean.

Dean stayed with you in the Emergency Department while a nurse cleaned the blood from your face, took your vitals, and tested your vision and hearing.

Your blood pressure was high, but that was to be expected. All else fell into the realm of normal, considering. Though when the nurse checked your neck, you grimaced a little when she slowly turned your head from side to side.

“Hmm. Scale of 1 to 10 on the pain?” she asked.

You glanced at Dean, who raised his brows at you expectantly. That look said, Tell the truth.

“I don’t know…4,” you replied.

The nurse gave you a knowing glance. “You can be honest. Is it a 4, or more like a 6?”

You bit your lip. “Okay, a 5.”

“All right. That’s understandable,” she said. The nurse then grabbed a brace to set around your neck. “The doctor will be in shortly to check you out, but likely she’ll prescribe you something short-term for the pain.”

You sighed in annoyance. “How long will that take? I need to see my grandfather.”

“Want me to check on him again?” Dean asked. Now that the nurse was done, he came over to where you were sitting on the edge of the examining bed to rest a hand on your back.

He’d made sure George was stable and comfortable in his own room. The ED doctor had ordered blood tests, among other things, since he was a former cancer patient. But also because he had a fever and an elevated blood pressure that didn’t seem to just be related to the crash. He was now sleeping while the hospital ran the rest of their tests.

You turned to Dean with red-rimmed, tear-filled eyes. “I want to see him.” 

Dean slipped an arm around you and tucked you against him more securely.

“You will, sweetheart. You just need to get checked out first,” he said. He was worried about you. You seemed all right, but he didn’t like your tendency to forget about yourself. Sometimes, you were a bit too much like him.

You sighed in defeat (for now). But after a moment, your small voice broke through the quiet.

“I should’ve let you look at the car,” you said.

Dean glanced down at you and caught the guilt written across your face. His brows knit together as his heart clenched again.

“Don’t do that,” he said with a sigh. “It’s not your fault.”

“My car, my goddamn fault,” you said through tears.

“Stop, baby,” Dean said. He held you closer, laying a kiss on the top of your head while you tried to stifle your tears.

He waited with you until the doctor finally arrived to examine you. She spotted the same things as the nurse, and prescribed you an anti-inflammatory pain killer, as well as rest. And of course, if your pain worsened, you were to come back to the ED.

After the doctor left, Dean agreed to walk you down to your grandfather’s hospital room. George was awake, though he seemed groggy with the pain medication they had him on through the IV. He greeted you and Dean with an attempt at a smile.

“Hey there, sweetheart,” he said. His hand turned over to welcome yours, and he squeezed, seeing the tears in your eyes. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, sniffling. “I’m good. How’re you feeling?”

Your gaze drifted to his chart, to the medications and fluids they had him on, what tests were listed…

George’s hand tugged on yours, pulling your attention back to him.

“They’ve got it in hand. Don’t you worry about me,” he said.

You flickered at a smile, as you both knew that wasn’t in the cards. In fact, you’d barely been sitting down on the edge of his bed for a couple of minutes before you were asking if the recline of his bed was comfortable. If he needed more water, or another blanket.

George responded negatively to most of your questions, though he shot Dean an imploring look over your head. The other man nodded and gently grasped your shoulders.

Dean could see why you were blustering around—so you wouldn’t crack from anxiety and exhaustion. But he needed to stop you before you hurt yourself. (Not to mention, before you drove George crazy.)

“Hey, come ‘ere a sec,” said Dean. He guided you into a nearby chair and soothed a hand over your hair. He kneeled down next to you and grabbed your hand. You let out a breath and held onto him back. 

“You need to take it easy, okay? Need to,” Dean said, in a quiet but firm tone he didn’t often use with you. He reached for the slip of paper the doctor gave you, now stuffed in your purse. “Everything’s gonna get taken care of. You just relax here, and I’m going to go fill out your prescription.”

Dean waited for you to meet his eyes; he was only satisfied when you nodded in acceptance. He gave you a smile, and you couldn’t help but smile back.

He leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to your lips. It was comfort and relief, for both of you.

You held him there for a moment with a hand on his cheek. Your fingers traced across his brow, and down his jawline. If it were even possible, after everything he’d done today, you were never more grateful for him than in this moment.

George watched the little scene from his bed with a soft smile.

Finally, he thought. And it meant many things.

After Dean reluctantly pulled away, he promised he’d be back soon. He then left to take your prescription to the closest pharmacy, also fishing out his phone to call Sam and let him know what was going on at the hospital.

Dean had a feeling you all were going to be here for a while.

AN: *exhales* Okay. 😅 A lot going on in this chapter. Another piece of the puzzle, more of why Nick needs his ass handed to him, and a dramatic save. Let me know what you thought!

And please forgive me for where we're going next...

Next Time:

Dean held your face, brushing the tears away with his thumbs.

“Hey, I’m here, all right? Just let me help you,” he said. “You can lean on me when you need to.”

“I haven’t had that in a long time,” you admitted. “Part of me doesn’t know how to lean.”

“I get that,” Dean said. But you both knew that there was a long and difficult road ahead. He knew he didn’t have to remind you of it. “Whatever you need, you just tell me, okay? If nothing else, I’ve got a strong pair of shoulders.”

Somehow, you smiled. You pressed your forehead against his chest and inhaled deeply, to steady yourself.

“That you do, Lieutenant.”

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Series Tag List (Part 1):

@hobby27 @kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007 @wincastifer @iamsapphine @simpforbuckyb

@vanillawhiskeyflavoredkisses @roseblue373 @this-is-me19 @emily-winchester @spnexploration @deans-spinster-witch @deans-baby-momma @iprobablyshipit91

@melancholictearz @nic-kolas @katherineann814 @sleepyqueerenergy @wayward-lost-and-never-found @thewritersaddictions @just-levyy @samanddeaninatrenchcoat @deanwanddamons @antisocialcorrupt @lacilou @adoringanakin @theonlymaninthesky @teehxk @midnightmadwoman @brianochka @branj19

@agalliasi @venicesem @chriszgirl92 @lyarr24 @ladysparkles78 @solariklees @xsophianicolex @deansbbyx @candy-coated-misery0731 @curlycarley @sarahgracej @bagpussjocken @ultrahviolentart @chernayawidow @beskarfilms @mimaria420