#i could go to the store right next to the laundromat i suppose

[kurthorton-moving]

spent the last hour of my shift telling myself I'd be able to get curry from the place next to the laundromat as a reward only to just now discover they aren't open on mondays

[heygerald]

Falling Without A Harness - Chapter 5

AU where Tom Ryder is still an asshole, just not a psychotic one. When he has good news, but no one to share it with, Parker invites him along to her brother's birthday party. A moment of weakness, or a moment for him to prove he's more than just his Hollywood ego?

read the story here: prev / next

"—and Jody said she was going to wear something simple, maybe jeans and a t-shirt, but I'm not really sure I want to match that vibe or go for something a little more, you know, fun. Maybe I could finally break out the bucket hat tonight," Colt's voice droned on from the phone tucked indelicately into the crevice of her neck and shoulder. Parker was only half listening, as was the usual when it came to her brother's incessant rambling about anything related to the pretty blonde camerawoman, and while he talked, she made work of slowly peeling strips of painters tape from the freshly painted wall. The ball in her hand was nicely sized by this point of the conversation. "So, anyway... uh, wait, what was the point?"

"Was there a point?" she mused aloud. "I stopped listening when you started talking about some pony she rode once at her twelfth birthday party."

She heard him snap his fingers. "Right—the birthday party."

"Hers or yours?"

"Mine! Listen, I know that you all put a lot of work into planning this shindig—"

"Shindig? God, you're old!"

"—but I would really appreciate if you told me what to expect tonight. Just a hint will do. I'm not trying to show up wearing dress shoes to a disco if you know what I mean."

Parker stuck another piece of tape onto the ever-growing ball with a blithe snort. "I never know what you mean."

"Park," he whined, much like a child, and not the thirty-something year old man that he was. Was this year number thirty-seven or thirty-eight? She should probably figure that out before putting candles on his cake. "Come onnnnnn. Just tell me. Just a hint!"

"And ruin the surprise? No way, Jose."

"But it's my birthday surprise! You can spoil it for me. I mean, realistically, no one would blame you if, maybe, you accidentally let the surprise slip. It'd be expected coming from you, actually."

She frowned. "What do you mean it would be expected coming from me?"

"Well, you know, you can't keep a secret to save your life."

Parker tossed the ball of tape into the trash and picked up the broom with an indignant scoff. "Excuse me, I am a very good secret keeper."

A long winded and high-pitched whine followed, and she winced at the volume of it. Parker switched the phone to her other ear, certain that between her brother and Melissa she had permanent hearing damage.

"Oh, so now all of the sudden you're a locked vault!" he blathered on. "Where was this dedication to silence when I got sick at Macy Lindwigs wedding and you spent the entire evening telling everyone you could find?"

An image of Macy Lindwig, dressed to the nines in a beautiful handmade wedding dress, staring in horror as her brother puked in an azalea bush three minutes before the ceremony started came to mind.

"Oh, I totally forgot about that," she snickered, the memory almost too sweet to ignore now that it had been brought back up. "You ruined her heels that night, you know. What was I supposed to do? Not tell everyone?"

"For starters. Or, at the very least, you could have refrained from blabbing about it at Christmas," he muttered petulantly. "Grandma never looked at me the same way again. She still won't let me near her rose garden."

"Cause and effect," Parker chirped. "You drank one too many tequila shots the night before, and thus, you have to suffer the fate of Grandma judging you every Christmas Eve."

"Miami Vice premiered the night before!" he argued, shouting, in what she suspected was a deranged manner. Parker hoped he was somewhere public; perhaps a grocery store or laundromat. "Just another example of how you can't keep a secret for the life of you, not even when your brother's good name is at stake. Your only true sibling, might I add."

"And here I thought I was an orphan found in a box."

She could hear Colt kicking something, palm clasped over the speaker as he whined, before he was back. "You're worse than Judas, you know. You ruin lives just for the fun of it, no silver needed."

"Are you offering silver?"

A cough. "Uh, I mean, I'm a little tight on silver at the moment. I think I have a free sub from Publix somewhere around here."

"A coupon. Wow. So generous."

"It's a punch card, and those aren't easy to fill out, you know," he huffed indignantly, obviously put out that Parker wasn't going to accept his lackluster offer. "What if I say pretty please?"

"Ha! Nice try. I happen to like Jody, so even if I wanted to tell you what we're doing tonight—which I don't—I'm not going to. She was really excited to help me plan this year."

Some spluttering followed her resolution, before he was kicking something again. Apparently, whatever he kicked was harder than he thought, however, and the next moment her brother was wheezing in pain.

"Jesus, take it easy, alright? You're going to need your toes for tonight."

In a breathless voice, he weaseled, "tonight at...?"

But Parker was no novice when it came to keeping secrets from her brother, and so she didn't fall for the trick. "Ha, nice try," she snorted while stooping to sweep her pile of dust and paint chips off the ground. Shades of green and white stained her hands, but she didn't bother to clean them off. It would be a pointless endeavor, after all, considering what they had planned for Colt's birthday party later that evening. "I'm trying to stay on Jody's good side."

"Both of her sides are good sides," was his immediate response, something wistful coloring his tone. "She's gorgeous. If you haven't noticed."

"Trust me," Parker deadpanned with a blithe glance at her own disheveled appearance, "I've noticed."

"Do you think I should bring her flowers?"

"To your birthday party?"

"Girls like flowers. Plus, she's planning the whole thing."

"I helped!"

"I'm not bringing you flowers to my birthday party, Park. It's not about you, you know."

"Right, of course, how could I have forgotten?" she deadpanned. However, despite his disinterest in showing her any gratitude, Parker smiled at the concept that there was a man out in this world so infatuated by a woman, that he not only spent all his time talking about her, but he also wanted to bring her flowers for no good reason. If only she could find someone like that who wasn't her brother. Wishes and wants, she supposed. "As nice of a thought as that is, don't bring her flowers tonight. They'll end up wilted by the time she gets back home from the party. If they aren't totally trashed first, that is."

His tone pitched higher, eagerly. "Trashed? Why would they be trashed? Are we doing some floral vandalism tonight? Oh!" Colt cried, hands clapping together. "Are we going to a wreck-it room? I've always wanted to do something like that. You know, somewhere that wasn't on a set, anyway, where I'm being beat up for a living with props."

Parker covered the speaker of her phone to curse at herself. While she hadn't ruined the surprise, Colt was like a dog with a hambone, and was not likely to let it go anytime soon.

She cleared her throat and attempted indifference. "Not even close," she said, but it didn't sound super convincing, and with an exasperated huff, she threw her hands up. "Jesus, Colt, you're going to get me into trouble! Just chill out. Jody should be picking you up soon, anyway."

"Picking me up soon for...?"

Colt's whining was interrupted by the tinkle of the front bell, and as she switched her phone back to her right ear, Parker took a moment to scoop up the paint-splattered tarp sprawled across the floor.

Melissa had been on to something with her suggestion to repaint the store, and while they had only gotten the walls finished over the past two and a half weeks, the mossy green color with gold accented picture frames really gave some life back to her shop. It still had that musty smell, as well as a pair of flickering lightbulbs from the janky electrical sockets, but they were definitely taking a step in the right direction. The color made everything feel cozier, and once they coated the bookshelves with shades of blue and yellow and replaced the overhead fluorescents with something warmer, she thought it might look like an entirely new store for the price of a few gallons of paint.

Not to mention the color stood out from the recent tan and brown trend that had swept across Hollywood hills. Win, win.

"Ugh! Stop trying to spoil your own surprise and let it happen, alright? You're going to love it," she pacified half-heartedly while booting a stool out of the way. Too deep of a breath had the smell of laquear and paint fumes killing off some braincells, and Parker dropped the tarp along with the rest of the paint materials with a cross-eyed huff. "Plus, it was all Jody's idea, so if you hate it, I would keep that to your..."

Parker paused halfway up the aisle.

On the far end of it, a brown and black colored dog sat patiently wagging its tail at her. Its tongue was sticking out of the side of its mouth, but despite Elon Musk's predictions about the existence of intelligent life in the galaxy, she was pretty sure that the local population of Hollywood mutts had yet to grow opposable thumbs capable of opening a door.

She blinked at it.

"Er, listen," she muttered into the phone, gaze darting past the dog, but not seeing its owner. "I have to go. There's a dog situation that I need to take care of."

"A dog? I've been asking you for years to get a dog, and now you finally decide to get one on my birthday! That's so totally fu—"

Parker hung up before he could complain any further, and slowly tucked her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. The dog barked at her, as if excited to finally have her attention.

"Er—hi. Did you��how did you get in here?" she asked.

It responded by tilting its head to a ninety-degree angle. She stared, waiting, as if the language barrier would suddenly disappear.

Unsurprisingly, it didn't. The dog barked a second time.

"I don't have any treats on me," she said again, not sure else what to say, but certainly feeling like she should say something. It trotted towards her, and though it seemed friendly at first, when it stuck its head into her crotch to take too deep a sniff for comfort, Parker jumped backwards. "Ah—fuck! Buy a girl dinner first, huh?"

She sidestepped the dog, hands splayed out in front of her like she was a robbery victim, and did her best to avoid being felt up as the dog followed her towards the storefront. It nosed her rear end, and Parker let out an undignified squeak.

"Jesus! I know the humane society is underfunded and all, but this is a little ridiculous, don't you think?" she asked it.

The dog darted in front of her, nose going right back for the crotch, and Parker just barely managed to leap onto Melissa's sunken reading chair when an increasingly familiar head of blonde hair stepped out from behind one of the bookshelves.

"Talon, Jean Claude," he said, and as though the dog hadn't just been harassing her, it plopped down onto the floor right beside him. Dog and owner blinked at her in bemusement. "Don't seriously tell me that you're afraid of dogs."

Parker shot him a disgruntled glare in response, but Tom didn't seem to mind the heat packed behind it. Instead, he smirked at her, crossed one arm over the other, and languidly leaned back against the front counter.

It was obvious he was laughing at her, and not with her, and Parker added it to the list of all the things she couldn't stand about Tom Ryder. Worse though, she couldn't help but subconsciously smooth a hand over her hair, because where Jody was effortlessly gorgeous, Parker required quite a bit of effort not to look awful. And right now, with paint-stained pants, a half-assed pair of dutch braids, and miscolored converse, she was certainly not showing him her good side.

If she even had one, that is.

"I should have known you would have a pervy dog," she said while looking down her nose at him. Literally, too, considering she was still standing on the chair. Parker flushed a bright red at the realization and none-too-glamorously clambered down onto her feet. "And French, too. I think that's stereotyping, Ryder."

Despite the distrustful look she shot the dog, he seemed a whole lot less pervy and rabid now that she knew he had an owner, and when she approached it, its tail flapped back and forth excitedly.

"Insulting an entire country?" Tom harrumphed as she started to scratch the dog between its ears. "Maybe you should sit through PR training with me next time Gail hosts a session."

She blew a bland raspberry as she read the dog's name tag.

Jean Claude. Huh. Cute.

He let out a low whine when she hit a particularly sensitive spot, and in delight, he rolled onto his back with half-lidded eyes.

"Is this the one you were talking to the other day, or do you have any other expat mutts that I should know about? I can only be felt up so many times before I file a harassment complaint."

"Jean Claude isn't a mutt," he corrected her, disdain at the very idea of owning a mutt. Parker supposed adopting a kennel-dog was likely below him, being a superstar and what not. "He's an Australian Kelpie, pure-bred, and he certainly wasn't fucking cheap. His parents are award winning cattle dogs in the Australian circuit."

"That's an award category?"

"Hmph. Laugh all you want, but I'd bet he's better trained than you are. He's even trained to attack someone in the balls on command."

"So am I," she sassed while making kissy faces at Jean Claude. "Oh, he's cute. Yes, you are. Yes, you are," she cooed.

He ate it right up, tail flapping in every direction, and when she spared Tom a glance, she could feel the jealousy rolling off him that someone else was getting more attention. Dog or not. Parker snickered.

"Sorry you're stuck with this one," she added, jerking a thumb over her shoulder to gesture in Tom's general area. "But trust me, you're way cuter, and probably lower maintenance than he is."

Tom cleared his throat. "Are you done?"

"Jealous?"

"Of a dog?" he deadpanned, rolling his eyes beneath a pair of expensive Ray Bans—not at all disproving the theory—and Parker smiled at her private joke. "Hardly."

She leaned closer to Jean Claude, and spoke in a stage whisper, "I think he's jealous."

And—yup—that seemed to do it.

Tom pushed off the counter with a sharp huff, unamused by her teasing, and make a command in French. Jean Claude bounded onto his feet, trotted to where Tom was, and curled up between his legs.

Parker stood and planted her hands onto her hips. "Real mature."

"I can always show you his attack command," Tom threatened. "I doubt you'll find him as adorable when he attacks you. It's always a hit at parties, watching someone get their balls bitten off."

"I think I'm missing a critical component for that trick to work," she pointed out with a dry smile. "But, anyway, what are you doing here? If you came to return my books, they're yours, considering how much you paid for them the other day."

He shrugged. "Maybe I want my change."

"You came all the way here, through traffic, to get your change?" she echoed, clearly disbelieving his piss poor excuse. Under her stare, Tom shuffled uncomfortably on his feet. "Hm. I thought I was supposed to be the penny pincher between the two of us."

"Maybe it's not the money I care about. It's the principle of the whole thing."

"Ha! You expect me to believe that you have principles?"

Tom huffed, but she caught the crooked upturn of his mouth. Still, he played the victim—always acting, this one. "You're right. I don't just deserve change. I should get a full refund, considering how awful your book recommendations were. Not to mention the books practically fell apart when I touched them. Clearly, you sell cheap products."

"Clearly," she muttered, while flipping the sign on the front door from OPEN to CLOSED. There wasn't much going on outside, anyway, and she doubted she would be missing any customers by taking the day off early.

"You want to tell me what you're really doing here? Because we both know you liked my recommendations," she said matter-of-factly, moving to the cash register now. She had made a few sales throughout the day, more than a typical Friday, and so she carefully began stacking her receipts. "I mean, who wouldn't? Those are good books I gave you. Contact is in my top ten."

Tom leaned on the counter. "Books I bought."

She waved him off, stack of receipts in hand, as she locked the lower cabinet. Tom could complain all he wanted, but she did know that he liked her book recommendations. He had finished them all within a week, when he likely should have been spending more attention devoted to practicing for his audition. Granted, it was a sci-fi movie he was auditioning for, but—

She startled.

"Oh, duh!" Parker sprung to her full height with a curious look. "Did you get the part?"

Tom smirked.

It wasn't bashful or pleasant or soft like authors typically described their tall, dark, and handsome characters, but it was so very him that she hardly minded it. In fact, Parker sort of liked it. It crinkled the soft lines by his eyes, loosened the tension in his shoulders, and made him look younger. Nicer. Cuter.

"Of course I did," he sassed. "I told you I was going to get it."

She ignored his blatant peacocking to punch him in the shoulder. The action seemed to shock him, and Tom clutched the spot with his other hand—as if she had done some real damage—while Parker grinned. "Holy shit, that's great! I mean, sure, you were a shoo-in or whatever, but this is a big deal. Right? It's a big deal? You must be jumping off the walls right now!"

Tom gave a bemused huff, eyes darting over the length of her face, and nodded. "Biggest movie I've gotten yet," he said. "My first sci-fi film too, so, that's going to get my name out there even more than it was. I mean, if I thought I was well known before... after this, everyone will know who Tom Ryder is."

"That's awesome!"

Tom rolled his eyes at her enthusiasm, clearly not buying into it, and though Parker was so excited on his behalf, Tom seemed like he was fighting off indifference to the news. "Yeah, well, a role's a role, you know."

"Well, yeah," she hedged, waving a hand at him, "but this is your first sci-fi role, and it was one that you even told me you wanted to get. You must be at least a little excited for it. Sci-fi is so interesting, I bet filming it is gonna be a ton of fun."

"Sure," he echoed dryly. His smirk had returned, and though she wouldn't necessarily classify what his face was doing now as a smile, it was certainly close. "Fun. That's what I'm aiming for in my career: fun."

"Oh, please," she clucked her tongue at him, receipts shoved hastily into their folder. "You can be a huge movie star and still have fun doing it. I mean, isn't that the point? Doing something you love and all that. I'd imagine it's going to be a whole new experience for you, stepping into a sci-fi set."

He hemmed, mouth twisting between a smile and a frown. "I guess."

He didn't sound all that convinced. In fact, when Parker thought about it, she seemed to be far more excited about the role than he did. She tilted her head at him suspiciously. "Alright, well... what are you doing to celebrate?" she asked. "A vacation? Buying yourself a new car? Oooh—Legoland?"

He furrowed his brows at her in surprised. "Legoland?"

"It's what I would do," she shrugged. "Probably, anyway. I've never been because the tickets just don't seem worth the price, but if I had just landed a giant role in a giant blockbuster, I think buying a ticket would be the least of my worries. You could probably even write it off on your taxes."

He blinked at her. "Poor people are so sad to me."

She stuck her tongue out at him, and took delight in the way that he huffed in amusement. "Well? Come on—make me jealous—what are you doing?"

Tom shrugged. "Gail's throwing a big party next week to announce the role. She always does that. Invites her producer friends and talent agents and that sort of stuff. There'll probably be some sort of attraction, singers or a zebra or something."

"Casual," she snorted.

"She has a weird thing for exotic animals, I don't know."

"Seems like it. But that's what she's doing, what are you doing?" she needled further. "I mean, I assumed you would do a big party with your friends before then. You know—cops get called, party crashers—the whole scene."

Tom hesitated to answer, and when he did, he didn't sound all that much like himself. "Well, I can't really do that—she controls when I make go public with the news—has the whole timeline figured out, and manages all the press for it. She doesn't let me tell people ahead of time."

"I'm people."

He rolled his eyes. "You're a nobody," he said. Not to be mean; no, Tom was very clear in his words when he intended to be mean. Instead, he had said it nonchalantly, as if it was a universal truth that everyone understood. And, in all honesty, Parker got it. "I mean, who are you going to tell that would care, you know?"

"Okay, ouch," she muttered still, before barreling on. "Don't you have any non-work friends that you can go get drinks with?"

"All my friends are work friends."

"What about people that don't know Gail?"

Tom huffed and waved a hand at her. "That's the same thing, you know. She introduced me to everyone I know in the industry. Other than some set hands, we have the same circle."

Parker sank onto her heels, feeling slighted on his behalf, but knowing that she didn't really have a right to. Surely, Tom Ryder would have stood up to Gail if he didn't like her hands-on, helicopter parent approach to managing his life. And clearly their work relationship was beneficial to them both. He certainly didn't need a nobody like her feeling sorry for him.

And yet, she did.

Because, as she listened to him talk, it felt like he had to give up everything just to be a somebody in Hollywood. And while it might have been the norm for him, it was absolutely not the norm for everybody.

Did he even realize that?

"Fuck that," Parker said before she could think better of it, emotions getting the better of her. Colt always joked that she had a bleeding heart, but she had never thought there was anything wrong with that. "Come hang out with me, then."

Tom arched a brow at her, mouth parted dumbly. "...what?"

She shrugged, feeling a little like a specimen beneath a microscope, and struggled to explain herself. "I mean, you just said that Gail doesn't want you telling anybody that matters, and I only hang out with people that don't matter in the grand scheme of Hollywood politics. I'm getting ready to head to Colt's birthday party after this, and if you're not doing anything else, you may as well come with me. It won't be a celebration for you, obviously, but... it'll be fun."

He blinked at her slowly, surprise written in the fine lines of his face.

"We're not going to murder you," she huffed indignantly.

"I—I never hang out with Colt or those guys."

"Yeah, for good reason. They all sort of hate you for being an asshole on set to them. Like, all the time. I wouldn't want to hang out with you outside of work either, if I was them."

He scowled. "Oh, well, when you put it like that," he huffed. "Obviously, they're not going to want me to come. And, I may be an asshole, but I try not to gatecrash birthday parties."

She waved his concern away with a paint-stained hand. "First off, you won't be gatecrashing, I'm literally extending an invite. And secondly, they only hate you because you're a prick on set. What better way to prove that you're not a prick, by coming to Colt's birthday party, and—you know—actually being nice for once. Just don't be a dickwad. Or an asshole. Or any sort of thing that you usually are on a normal day."

"I think the saying is 'always be yourself'," he deadpanned.

"That absolutely doesn't apply here."

"Smartass."

Parker nudged him in the shoulder with an exasperated look. "Come on! What else are you going to do? Do some irresponsible spending and buy everyone a round of drinks. I bet they'll think differently of you after everybody is a few beers in."

Tom didn't seem too convinced with her logic. "Crashing his birthday party doesn't seem the best way to get on Colt's good side. I didn't even know it was his birthday."

"Now you do," she shrugged, as if it wasn't a big deal. And—well—her brother was probably going to bitch about Tom's presence at the party, but Parker also believed that after a few shots of liquor, everyone would get over the issue fairly quick. Not to mention the party itself was designed for stress relief. Bringing Tom may actually make the night. With a conniving wiggle of her brows, Parker tried again. "I know for a fact that there's room for one more. Jody and I planned the whole thing together, and if she's allowed a plus-one, so am I. Jean Claude can even come. Colt loves dogs."

Tom seemed to sway a little further with her reasoning, and with a slow nod, he finally agreed. He certainly didn't look happy about it though.

Parker punched the air. Oh, Colt is going to love this.

"Awesome! Give me a minute to lock up, and then we can go."

"Fine," he huffed, not too unlike that of a sulky toddler. "But I'm driving."

Parker smiled. Her car was a piece of shit that barely worked on a good day. She was going to insist he drive in the first place. Plus, now, she could get really drunk.

"Fine by me," was all she said, not eager to give away that piece of information just yet. "Just promise me you won't be an asshole. I won't be able to keep my reputation of favorite sister if you ruin the night."

"I'm not going to ruin the night," he snarked with a petulant glare. Parker shrugged, grabbing her things, as he asked, "...wait, I thought you were his only sister?"

"Exactly. Now, come on, I want to get there before they start assigning teams."

The bell rang as she stepped outside, Jean Claude trotting with her, and Tom hesitated for a brief moment before what she said caught up to him.

"Wait," he called, jogging after her. "What do you mean teams?"

---

Tom's presence did not go unnoticed. In fact, it had taken a mere three minutes before Jody was elbowing her to the side, a stern, disbelieving look furrowing her brows. She had let it go in a huff, however, when Parker pointed out that Tom had promised to be on his best behavior, as well as promised to buy the first round of drinks once the game was over.

That had been a lie, of course, but she supposed she could deal with that tantrum later.

Colt, on the other hand, hadn't been so easily placated, and as the twenty odd players stood in a circle, listening to the instructor drone on about safety, he weaseled next to her with a glare.

"I can't believe you brought Ryder," he hissed for the third time that night, hot breath on her face. She would have shoved him away if the instructor hadn't already reprimanded then twice for being distracting. "I mean, seriously Park, I can't stand the guy."

"Oh, really? I couldn't tell."

"Really!"

"Well, I'm sorry," she shrugged, although the apology was half-hearted at best, and Colt seemed to know this as he narrowed his eyes at her irritably. She huffed. "What was I supposed to do? Leave him behind?"

"Yes," Colt whisper-yelled. Dan glanced over his shoulder at the pair, and in perfect Seavers' sibling unison, they plastered fake smiles onto their faces with a friendly wave. He shook his head at them, but likely didn't think they were worth whatever trouble they caused, and faced forward once more. "That's exactly what you should have done!"

"It's not that easy," she argued, hissing as well. "He looked so sad! Like a little abandoned puppy dog that had just been kicked. It was a moment of weakness!"

"Oh, really?" Colt drawled. Together, they glanced over at Tom to find him ignoring everyone in the group with his head stuck in his phone. When a fly buzzed too close, he swatted at it with an icy glare. "That? You couldn't say no to that?"

"I said I was sorry!"

Parker's voice hitched higher than she intended, and the instructor paused in his speech to glare at the duo. She gave him a weak smile in return, mouthing, a guilty, sorry!

The man only got two words back into his speech, however, before Colt started whining again.

"Look, I'm totally stoked about the surprise party, okay? You did a stand-up job on it and the guest list. So how could you fuck it all up so close to the finish line?"

"What the hell does that even mean?" she asked in bewilderment. Parker shook her head. "Seriously, you need to update your sayings."

"Update my—?" Colt bit off a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose to take a long, overdrawn breath. "Why was he even at your bookstore? Since when did you two become friends? What happened to the whole—asshole, asshole, asshole—bit you had going on?"

"I still think he's an asshole," she shot back. But, well, when she caught Tom's gaze across the grass, she faltered. Did she think he was an asshole at his core? Or had he simply become someone she was beginning to understand—a dog that lashed out when someone got too close? Parker rubbed circles into her temple. "And we're not friends. And, even if we were, you have no one to blame but yourself."

"Myself?" he echoed in disbelief. "What do I have to do with this?"

"You're the one that gave him my phone number."

Colt snorted, shaking his head at her. "Fat chance of that," he said. Parker, thinking he was joking at first, fell silent when he caught the look in his eye. But, if Colt hadn't given Tom her phone number, then who had? she wondered, mentally counting down the list of people it could have possibly been.

Bigger fish to fry, she reminded herself when the list made her go cross-eyed.

"Whatever. We're not friends or buddies or whatever you think we are, so you can stop worrying about that."

Colt snorted. "Oh, sure you're not. He just happens to hang out around your bookshop and you share recommendations and, oh yeah! You bring him as a plus-one to my birthday party!"

Parker scowled. "I made the guest list, I think I have a right to bring someone along with."

"Sure, someone. Not Jaws over there."

She frowned at him, thrown off by the random insult. "Jaws?" she echoed, crinkling her nose distastefully. "What does a shark have to do with this?"

Colt sighed. "No, not the shark, the James Bond villain."

"That's a stupid name for a villain."

"I didn't write the damn thing."

"Okay, well, maybe he has the arrogance of a James Bond villain, but at least pick one from this century."

"Silva?"

"Nah. Whose the the one with the weird eye?"

Colt hummed thoughtfully, gaze darting over towards Tom. "Le Chiffre?"

Parker snapped her fingers and pointed at him. "That one!"

"Yeah, alright, I'll give you that," he conceded, nodding. "He does give off Bond villain vibes with the sunglasses and hair-do."

"Right? Oh you should have seen these glasses he was wearing last time. They were huge, and yellow tinted; like Tony Stark would wear. They were so ridiculous."

Colt snickered for a moment, enjoying mocking Tom with his sister, before realizing that he was currently mad at her. He threw his head back with a subtle groan. "Stop doing that! I'm still mad at you!"

Parker gave her brother a blithe look. "I think you're looking at this all wrong."

"Wrong? What other way should I look at it?" he snarked. "With my eyes closed?"

Resisting the urge to smack him, Parker instead gestured to their instructor, the paintball gun in his hand, and then towards Tom. "You literally get the chance to chase down and shoot, Tom Ryder, bane of your existence or whatever. Shoot him. Think about all the welts and whining and, maybe, if you're lucky, the tears you can get out of this experience. Legally. Without getting fired or arrested. What's better than that, huh? It's your very own personal rage room."

Colt considered all of that silently. He swept his gaze from the large pile of paintball guns set off to the side, to the acres of arena in front of them with inflatable obstacles, and then to his blonde alter-ego sulking at the edge of the group.

He slung an arm around Parker's shoulder with the boyish grin. "Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

Parker snorted, amused by his mood swings. "Not nearly enough. It's all Jody this, and Jody that anymore."

Jody, having finished listening to the instructor's demonstration, peered around Colt's shoulder to blink at the siblings. "What about me?"

Colt and Parker shared a silent look.

"Nothing," she said, whilst he cooed, "just talking about how pretty you are."

Jody blushed a bright rouge instantly, and Colt obviously took pleasure in that when he slung his other arm around her shoulder. Taking a deep breath, he let out a happy sigh. "My two ladies. Paintball. The smell of tears and blood on the horizon. What better way to spend a birthday?"

Parker glanced at Jody, expecting her to roll her eyes, but the camerawoman instead just smiled with something soft in her eyes.

Parker responded by wiggling out of Colt's reach. "Ew, blegh, that's disgusting. They say cooties are contagious you know."

"What on Earth are cooties?" Jody asked.

"An STD," Colt replied, only half joking, and though Jody appeared mildly disturbed by his joke, Parker had known her brother long enough to appreciate his odd ball sense of humor. "And they're not contagious if you have a shot."

Jody, not wanting to know if he was serious or not, let it go as the group slowly filed forward to get their guns, face masks, and coveralls. They followed shortly after, snickering like kids the entire way through.

In the end, Colt and Jody both got white, while Parker and Tom were given black ones.

Karma, she supposed, is that she wouldn't be able to shoot the asshole after all.

"Somehow, this is a step up for your usual clothes," said asshole chirped, pinching the baggy material hanging at her waist between his forefinger and thumb. Parker swatted him away, only for Jean Claude to bark at her. "Easy, you want to get taken down before the game even starts?"

"Please, you're lucky we're on the same team," Parker teased. He didn't seem to buy it if the blithe look he shot her was anything to go by, and she huffed at him. "I bet I could have gotten the first hit on you if we weren't on the same team. I have mad skills at paintball, Ryder. Seal Team Six type stuff., you don't even know."

Tom rolled his eyes at the same time that Colt reappeared, face mask propped on the top of his head, looking just a tad too comfortable in his onesie. Jody and Dan flanked him, and Parker didn't like their smiles one bit.

"What?" she asked.

"You suck at paintball," Colt egged. "Remember Tallahassee? You were covered in welts for weeks!"

Tom snorted, and Parker considered him the greater threat considering the fact he was standing closer to her than Colt was. She glared at him to state, "I'm not joking. I could literally take you out. Any of you," she added with a stern point of the finger sweeping through the group. "All of you!"

Not a single person believed her.

Tom went so far as to snicker at her. "I don't buy that. for a second. You're a total klutz."

She gasped. "Am not!"

Colt raised a hand. "Are too. Remember when you broke your ankle trying to play hopscotch?"

"Just—stay out of this!"

He did not, in fact, stay out of it. "What was it you said, Park? Cause and effect? You suck at sports, and the effect of that, is you're about to go down on the course."

She blew a rather wet raspberry at her brother. "Please, if you and Tom were on the same team, I would smoke both of you."

They bickered for a moment, amusing some, but boring Tom, and the A-lister broke up their argument with a long-weary sigh. "Oi! Whose to say either of you could get a shot on me?" he taunted.

The siblings turned to face him.

"Is that a challenge?" Parker asked, hands planted on her hips, whilst Colt raised his brows.

Tom shrugged, unconcerned.

"In fact, I bet I'll make it a whole round without getting shot once," Tom tacked on, ego puffing his chest out as he smirked at the group standing around. Dan rolled his eyes, while Jody coughed into her hand to hide an obvious laugh at his showboating. "I'm serious. First one to hit me gets five hundred dollars—"

Thwack! Thwack!

Tom gaped at his chest, now dotted with one yellow and one blue splatter. Parker and Colt stood in front of him, guns still smoking, and while his eyes widened in anger, the pair of siblings were more concerned with claiming the prize to notice.

"First!" Colt cried.

"What? No fucking way," Parker argued. She waved at the yellow paint splatter haphazardly, almost taking out Jody as she did so. "I was so first. Tom! Tell him!"

Tom, now even more unamused by their bickering, blinked in wide-eyed disbelief at them both. "Are you fucking serious?" he shouted. "The game didn't even start yet!"

"But you just said—"

"I meant during a match. Christ, Parker, we're on the same team," he blustered, attempting to wipe off the paint, but only managing to smear it further down his chest like a bad Jackson Pollock painting. "Fuck!"

Colt, sensing a blow-out was coming, swung his gun behind his back with a wide eyed, innocent look. "Hey man, it was all her," he started. "Totally uncool. And immature. And, really, if you need me to smack her around a little after this I totally can."

Tom glared at Colt, effectively shutting him up in seconds, before turning to Parker. Everyone watched in baited breath, nervous what he might do, and while Parker hadn't been on set long enough to know what his meltdowns looked like, the ones most familiar with Tom were left stunned by his reaction.

Or, really, how utterly tame this one was to the hundred others they had seen.

"Are you happy now?" he asked.

Parker hemmed and hawed for a moment before deciding that honesty was the best policy. "I mean, I'd be happier if you gave me my five hundred dollars."

"I'm not paying you shit."

"Oh, come on," she rolled her eyes, popping a hip as she did so. "It's not like you're cash poor or anything. You're just upset that I shot you."

Tom gaped at her in disbelief. "No shit!"

Parker, shifting her gun over her shoulder, waved the other at him blithely. "You'll get over it once the game starts. It's—heh—surprisingly therapeutic."

"Shooting me is therapeutic?"

She paused, caught up in her own statement. "Er, well, not you exactly. Just someone, in general, you know." Parker swallowed when Tom continued to stare at her. Awkwardly, she laughed. "Just... wait till you get out there, and you'll see."

Tom remained silent, blinking at her for a long, tense, moment before he rolled his eyes with a heavy sigh. And—

Thwack! Thwack! Thwack!

His gun went off before anyone could stop him, and Parker gaped at the trio of yellow paint that was now splattered across her chest. "Fucking ow!"

Tom smirked at her, blowing the muzzle of his gun for extra flare, before swinging it over his shoulder. "Huh. I guess you're right. I do feel better."

"Asshole!"

"Yeah, well, takes one to know one, right?" he snarked.

And—oh.

She could kill him. Really, seriously kill him.

But, well, the longer she stared at him and he stared at her, eyebrow cocked and a daring smirk in place, Parker realized above the hatred simmering in her chest, she felt something kindred and wanting flutter like butterflies. Something amused by the curve of his smirk, flushed by the scorching burn of his gaze, and—dare she think—understanding at the retaliatory strike. She had, afterall, shot first.

He had only lowered himself to her level; played by her rules.

And with a strong suspicion that Tom Ryder wasn't so much an asshole as he was just looking for someone to understand him, Parker's only response to that was to throw her head back and howl in laughter.

Despite this, no one else moved for a long moment, too busy darting their gazes between Parker and Tom in case they needed to intervene, but in an even more surprising turn of events, he laughed as well. Not so outright, and not nearly as loud, but he did. Prompted by his positive reaction, it wasn't long before Colt started to laugh, and then Jody, and then suddenly everyone was knelt at the waist in laughter.

It wasn't until their instructor honked a blow horn at them, none too amused with the pre-game warfare, that they calmed down. He honked the horn a second time at Parker and Tom, threatening to kick them out if they kept breaking the rules, and while they managed to stay straight-faced, the moment he turned his back on the group, they shared matching grins.

Maybe, she thought as they got into place, it hadn't been such a bad idea to bring him along.

And maybe, her brother thought at the exact same time, Parker and Tom being friends wasn't the end of the world.

[workingfromjapanandchina]

Day 5:

Got some good sleep last night even though I stayed up late working on this blog. It is pretty hard to be consecutive and to log every day, but when I’ve done this in the past, I’ve always been happy. I am doing this so that I can look back on my trip and remember all the stuff that happened. Usually if you don’t write things down like this, you will quickly forget all the stuff you saw and experienced.

Today I only had three meetings, so that was pretty nice. I had my usual 7-Eleven breakfast and even tried the croquette sandwich. I’ve had a lot of these sandwiches from the Japanese store near my house, so I was curious to see what they taste like here.

On my lunch break I went out and did some laundry at a laundromat that I found on Google maps. It was a 24 hour Pl. and had good reviews so I figured I would try to use it. I couldn’t figure out how to use mobile pay or QR code so I had to walk all the way back to my hotel to try to find a different ATM machine pull some cash out. this was probably at 4 am so there wasn’t many people around. The laundromat was actually really nice, and had this tablet display where you could pay for your machines. I needed to wash my running shoes, and was about to put them into a close washer when I looked over and noticed that they had a shoe washer and shoe dryer. Because of course they would.

I ended up having to take a meeting from the laundromat. I stood outside in front of the building and try not to talk too loud so that I wouldn’t bother anyone around in the condos around the laundromat. 

After I got my clothes and shoes clean, I went over and had some lunch. The restaurant I found was open 24 hours a day. It was really confusing though, because they had like a deli fridge where I guess you were supposed to pick out food and then they would warm it up and serve it to you. I was so confused that I had to use a translator app to talk to the employee to make sure I knew what the heck to do. I wasn’t sure if the cooking part of the restaurant was closed or something, but it turns out you just had to order it differently than I was expecting. A few old Japanese men next to me were drinking beers and having a great time. Even though I could probably go find nicer restaurants, I sort of like going to the little hole in the wall, local spots, they don’t really cater to tourists. I enjoy that experience more than some fancy place. 

After lunch, I worked a bit more and then tried to decide what to do with the rest of my day. After work, I did some more work on Real Estate stuff that I’m dealing with right now. And then for dinner, I found a really nice tiny sushi place. The place was really small. I think they only had about five seat at the counter, and two small booths. you’re like shoulder to shoulder when you eat at the counter. I had a 10 piece sushi lunch which was about ¥1500. The sushi was so good that I decided I wanted to eat more and so I ordered some tekka maki and a couple other pieces. It was delicious. One of the chefs was super old, so you can imagine. He’s probably worked there for a very long time. a couple of older people came in and sat next to me. They were eating the same thing as me. I don’t think I’ve seen 90-year-olds eat sushi before so that was pretty unique.

After dinner, I made this super boiling hot walk back to my hotel. On the way I picked up some mochi from this old lady. I also got some ice cream and a couple drinks too since it was so hot.

Time to sleep so I can work early in the morning tomorrow for “Thursday”

[uwuyangin]

a promise well broken (minho x reader)

✩ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: if anyone was certain of one thing, it would be the fact that both you and minho were a two in one deal. never would somebody see one and not the other. since the beginning of your friendship, you promised each other that no matter what, you would never lie. pinky promises were forever right? that is until you meet hana, the one person that had the potential to tear you and minho apart.

✩ 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫 + 𝐚/𝐧: this is a request! bff to lovers! plot ahead. cussing as well so be warned. song rec: i hate u, i love u by olivia o’brien & gnash. thank you for requesting this, lovely! 

—

the autumn of twenty-eighteen was the worst year of your life.

why? because that was the start of your first year being a freshman in college. nobody had warned you about the university life, and it always looked so easy. then came week two where you learned the hard way that the readings actually were important. or that you should never leave your laundry in the laundromat without supervision. again, these were things you had to learn as an adult and it sucked.

but, you’ll never forget the day you met him; lee minho. 

you had accidentally spilled coffee all over his white shirt in that over-crowded starbucks down the street from your apartment. he had joked you owe him a new shirt, however he then laughed at his silly remark. hearing that laugh made your heart melt in a way you couldn’t describe. nonetheless, you offered to buy him his drink of choice, to which he denied. instead, he asked for your time and the rest was history.

you two were inseparable ever since. even when you needed to study, minho would drop by and annoy the hell out of you. it had become such a routine that you would be surprised if he didn’t accompany you to anything. in a way, you were dependent on him as he was to you. some would say this was unhealthy, but you admitted to yourself a long time ago that a life without lee minho was not a life wanted. 

however, because life was never perfect, you couldn’t expect your relationship with him to be. because you were utterly in love with someone you never thought you could have. so much so that your heart swelled at just the idea of him and that damn smile. his tsundere personality attracted you the most because that only made the intimate moments more meaningful. like when he would hold your hand in public if you were anxious, or the way he complimented your work ethic. those small, simple gestures filled your stomach with butterflies. as much as you loved him showing you affection, it also broke your heart because it always stirred up false hope. and nothing hurt more than that. 

you wished you could confront him on this. you hated hiding anything from minho. it was your number one rule between each other; no secrets, no lies. he always had a deep-rooted insecurity of being lied to, and you promised him that you would never do that no matter what. you’ll never forget the way he looked at you then; full of trust and happiness. each night when you lay awake in your bed, your chest clenches at the thought of telling him you’ve been surpressing these feelings. would he rejoice or be disappointed? it was a risk that you weren’t willing to take.

that promise meant everything to you. apparently minho thought otherwise.

it had been exactly one month since you met park hana. minho introduced the two of you after walking out of his calculus class. he had made a new friend, which didn’t surprise you because who wouldn’t want to be friends with him? however, at the sight of her, your stomach dropped. she had locks of honey brown, obviously artificial but beautiful nonetheless. her eyes always shone with a light you never thought you’d see. she was outgoing, intelligent, and funny. god, she was so funny that she made minho roll over in laughter at a study session that was supposed to be explicitly between you and him. you envied her. you wanted to love yourself the way she did, but everytime you looked in the mirror, you would only see flaws. what would minho see in you that he wouldn’t see in her? 

you tried to be her friend, you really did. on multiple occasions, you invited hana to coffee or to the movies, and she always declined. if you brought it up to minho, he would only shrug it off that it wasn’t serious. this didn’t cease your uneasiness towards her, though. it could just be your jealousy speaking but you knew yourself better than that. 

you were going to try again, though. if she meant something to minho, then she meant something to you as well. 

you lay on your bed with a small smile, scrolling through your phone to find minho’s number. a simple face time would be fun as you didn’t feel like texting. you also really wanted to see his face. after finding his number, you tapped on it and felt excitement rising in your system. it was only a video call but this is what minho did to you. as the phone rang, you were met with disappointment as you noticed that he wasn’t going to pick up. that wasn’t like him as he typically picked up within the first three rings. 

“what the heck? ugh,” you grunted to yourself, heading over to text message. 

you were tempted to text him alone about your idea of hanging out, but you knew that if you were going to make an effort for hana, you would need to text the group chat. you began to text out your plans, sending it with a large grin. 

you: heyyyyyyyyy bishes! i’m thinking of heading to the mall later today, and i’d love to hang with y’all. what do you say?? maybe we can get dinner as well. i finally don’t have homework lmaoo 

soongiedoongiedori: aw can’t today :( hanging out with sungie

hana: same, i’m busy! maybe next week? 

you: ok :’) </3

releasing a sigh, you felt your excitement deterioriate. you weren’t expecting them to turn you down so quickly, especially minho. you knew it was wrong to be upset at them for being busy but you couldn’t help how you were feeling. hana did suggest next week . . . that would have to do for now. 

as you sighed once again, you heard your door swinging open. you snapped your head up, hoping it was minho pranking you, but you were only met with your roommate, yeri. 

“whoa, calm down. i’m not gonna kill you,” she joked. “i was just checking to see if you’ve eaten today and if i should buy takeout.” 

groaning, you shook her head and hung an arm over your head. this made it clear to yeri that you were upset, making her concerned. you two were close since the beginning of the school year. normally you were a cheerful person. if you were acting like this, then something was definitely up. 

“what’s wrong?” she asked, sitting beside you on your bed. 

you peeked out from behind your arm only to drop it and sigh for the third time. that’s all you could really do at this point. 

“well, it’s going to sound dumb-”

“no it’s not. stop doubting yourself, now tell me what’s up.” yeri interrupted.

you rolled your eyes but smiled a small smile. “i texted minho and hana to see if they wanted to hang out today but both of them are busy. it just really sucks because i feel like every time i make an effort for hana, she doesn’t make an effort for me. i’ve tried telling lino this but he thinks i’m being dramatic. am i being dramatic?”

yeri hummed at your response, furrowing her eyebrows. you watched in silence as she pondered about the scenario in her mind. this put you on edge because she didn’t immediately reassure you it was nothing. she must’ve seen something fishy as well or else she wouldn’t be thinking about it. or you were assuming the worst.

“they’re both busy?” she checked. 

you nodded, making her shrug. “i wouldn’t think much of it, (y/n). what’s the rule between you and him again? no secrets, no lies or something like that? i don’t think he would lie to you.” 

that was true; nobody took that rule more seriously than minho. for a moment there, you felt guilt because you knew it was wrong to immediately doubt his intentions like that. hana as well. yeri inspected you for a moment as she took in your composure. surely her advice should’ve been enough to warrant ease, however, you were still stiff.

“i’ll go to the mall with you,” she offered. “i was thinking of stopping in sephora or something. i’ve been meaning to go for awhile but never had the excuse.”

you snapped your head her way and bit back a smile, trying not to be too enthusiastic. “really? you’re not just saying that, are you?”

yeri nudged you playfully before standing. “of course not. now get up and ready, or i’ll regret my decision.”

-

“did you really have to buy all three palettes? they look the exact same!” 

yeri rolled her eyes as the both of you exited the store with you holding one bag, and her with two. you had only been there for twenty minutes and you already spent more than you would’ve liked. then again, you didn’t really care because you were looking forward to this for awhile. friends that enable each other stay together, right?

“well, that’s where you’re wrong. this one is peachy nudes, then there’s the golden nudes, and this one is neutral nudes. seriously, (y/n), don’t underestimate the power of nudes.”

the both of you let out a laugh, leaning into each other for support. yeri had made this experience way more fun than you thought it could be. not one thought of minho or hana had entered your mind. the mood was lifted tremendously as you strolled through the mall, window shopping at a few stores until you found the one you wanted to shop in. however, as you were going to enter a store, your stomach did a little growl. 

“whoa, calm down tiger.” joked yeri as she patted your stomach. 

“i guess i forgot to eat today . . . do you wanna stop by the food court before we continue shopping?” you suggested.

she nodded, realizing that she was hungry as well. “i think it’s this way.” 

nearing the corner, you continued on towards the food court with excitement. mall food always had a different vibe to it and you were very much looking forward to devouring some lo mein noodles. as the food court came into view, your walk began to speed up. the excitement that was building up inside of you halted as yeri stopped in her tracks, causing you to run directly into her back. 

“hey-” you started but yeri whipped around, shushing you. her hands grabbed onto your arms and dragged you to the side where you were no longer out in the open.

“what are you doing?” your voice was not loud however it still wasn’t at yeri’s liking as she shushed you again.

“(y/n), look over by mcdonald’s. isn’t that minho . . . and hana?” 

your heart stopped as you heard those words, immediately looking where yeri had instructed you. there sat minho and hana, laughing obnoxiously while sharing a meal. you watched the way she fed him a fry, with him then returning the favor. your heart tugged at the sight because that was something you guys always do to each other. it would then follow with you offering him a bite of your mcflurry and then booping him on the nose with the spoon. the tension grew as you saw him reaching for the spoon of his mcflurry, raising it out towards hana.

“please, please, please. do not pat it on her nose,” you whispered to yourself.

tears welled up in your eyes as you watched the way she took a bite, then giggling as he gently patted her nose with the spoon. that was the icing on the cake and it’s all it took before you turned your body around, rushing to the exit. 

yeri called out to you but you weren’t listening. the scene that played before rewound itself in your mind like a vhs tape. and you would pause at the way he looked at her, like she was so special. those glances were always reserved for you. was he tired of you? did he know how much he meant to you? he broke your one rule, the one thing that meant everything. your friendship was based on this and yet it was now abandoned. your breathing became labored as you tried calming down, staring at the ground with wide eyes and endless tears. never did you think minho would betray you. maybe it was naive to think like that.

“(y/n), wait up!” puffed out yeri as she met up with your figure at the exit. her chest heaved from the run she had to do to catch up.

neither of you spoke as yeri tried to find the words. “i’m sorry.” her voice was soft, almost afraid of breaking you any further.

-

nearly a week had passed since the incident at the mall. and you would be lying if you said you were alright.

every night you were reminded of what minho did to you as he sent you texts relentlessly. the spamming began after day one with him asking if you wanted to come over. when you didn’t respond, he continued to blow up your phone to see if you were okay. all the missed calls and texts drove you insane because you wanted so badly to reply. but you weren’t going to give in so easily. he hurt you in ways you couldn’t describe. it didn’t help that you were helplessly in love with him. seeing him give affection towards another female was inevitable, but you never thought it would hurt like this.

you weren’t surprised when you didn’t get any notifications from hana. you wanted to believe so badly that she was a good person but something felt off. you didn’t want it to be your jealousy speaking but you also didn’t want to be in denial either. this felt wrong because you and minho had never been so separated. but with each passing second, you felt yourself growing further part from him. you continued to drown in your depressed thoughts until a knock on your door interrupted.

“yes?” 

“oh, you don’t sound so excited to see me.” joked a familiar voice as they stepped in, closing  the door behind them.

you grinned, immediately sitting up and opening your arms for your friend, han jisung. the boy wasn’t shy in returning the hug, laughing at your brightened expression.

“sungie! what are you doing here? you didn’t even think to call me?” your voice was nothing but playful, nudging his arm in the process.

jisung took a seat beside you on the bed and chuckled. as he made himself comfortable, he spoke up. “i felt like being spontaneous.”

the air was always light when it came to jisung. he was able to make everyone feel welcomed despite his social anxiety. the contradiction always made you love him more, as a friend of course. you admired him for a moment, feeling somewhat calmer. it was obvious to jisung that something was wrong, though. minho might’ve told him to check up on you because if you were ignoring him, then he knew you wouldn’t let him into your home. but jisung could also tell from your face that you weren’t okay.

“hey, what’s going on? you can tell me.” 

his sudden change from bubbly to concerned shocked you, making you freeze in your spot. you hadn’t even noticed the smallest of tears that were forming in your eyes, finally being able to unleash any form of disappointment that you were holding in. jisung was not prepared to see you falter so quickly as he reached forward, holding your hands in his lap as he let you cry for a moment in silence. as soon as you were ready to catch your breath, you laid the truth on him.

“minho lied to me. and to make matters worse . . . he lied to me with hana.”

jisung was taken aback at those words because minho? lied to you? there’s no way. he snorted, shaking his head as he was in disbelief. however, as he studied your expression again, he noticed that you were still crying. the boy clenched his jaw as he was now visibly angry. he knew how much that rule meant to you and minho, as it meant something to jisung as well. he was there when minho got his heart broken, when he was the one who was lied to. and now minho had completely ignored that because of someone he barely knew. you didn’t deserve this, no one did. 

“(y/n), i’m so sorry.” much like yeri, that’s all he could say. 

because he knew how much this hurt you, and there was nothing that he could say that would change how you were coping. he wanted to ask what happened, but he also didn’t want to push you. 

“why are you sorry? it’s him that should be sorry.” you replied bitterly as you wiped at your eyes. 

you thought you looked pathetic, but jisung thought the opposite. he couldn’t even imagine what you were going through, and he always knew how close you two were. deep down he also knew how you felt about minho. this was more than just your best friend lying to you, no. 

ring ring ring

the sound of your phone ringing made you snap out of it, immediately searching for it so that you could read the caller id. once you had it in your hands, your eyes widened in shock.

“it’s hana . . . should i answer it?” you whispered.

“sure, but i don’t know why you’re whispering.” you reached over and swatted his arm at his sass.

without thinking much of it, you swiped right and pressed the phone to your ear. jisung didn’t think that you would actually do it, considering you had neglected minho’s calls. although he did believe it would be easier to speak with hana as you weren’t as close with her. after holding in your breath for a long second or two, you released out a greeting.

“hello?”

“mhm, (y/n)-ah. i’m glad you picked up. i’ve been meaning to talk to you.” 

something about the way she spoke didn’t sound genuine, and jisung could notice it from a mile away. you furrowed your eyebrows as he pointed at your phone, mouthing the words ‘speaker phone’ to you. you decided to risk it as jisung would be your witness for whatever would go down. you switched it to speaker.

“oh, hi hana. what did you want to speak with me about?” you said straightforwardly. 

there was a chuckle on the other end that sent chills down your spine. “i’m not stupid, (y/n). i know you saw minho and me at the mall together. i don’t blame you for acting the way you are, i would probably do the same.”

both you and jisung looked at each with wide eyes. you didn’t expect her to be so blunt with her thoughts, however you were expecting something bitchy. biting on the inside of your cheek, you listened to her continue.

“i mean, you should be jealous. minho asked me on a date, and he told me he loves me. we are now dating, and we are very happy. he’s very happy. and now that we are together, i’m telling you to stay away from him.”

you could feel the fresh wave of tears pooling in your eyes as you heard her read out your worst nightmare. minho was in love with someone else, and to make matters worse, it was with hana. everything inside of you clenched painfully as you felt your heart sink to your stomach. this was way worse than having minho lie to you. you prayed to any god or deity that the situation couldn’t get any worse than it already was but they refused to listen to you. the universe was against your idea of sharing love with minho as it did everything in its way to tear you two apart. you should’ve kept count of the time you had left with him until he was taken.

but hearing her say that you needed to stay away from him wasn’t an option in your head. you can handle him lying, and being in love with someone else. it hurt, god it hurt so badly, but you could handle it if it meant he was happy. you would rather have minho happy instead of not having him at all. you were passionate in that belief, and you weren’t going to let hana tell you otherwise.

“no.” 

“i wasn’t asking, (y/n).” her tone was more intimidating than before, yet you held your ground.

“i said no. i’m not budging on this, hana. i’m not letting him go.” you protested.

there was another pause in between the conversation, and you thought you had won for a second. but hana was always a step ahead of you, planning her attack head-on like she had rehearsed every possible outcome in her head.

“why are you still holding onto him? you’re just a burden, don’t you see that? he’s only pitying you. now that he has me, he doesn’t need to keep having you around. you should learn to take a hint.” 

she spat her words at you, shooting her venom in your most sensitive spots. for a moment, you had entirely forgotten that jisung was still in the room. you tried not to let her words get to you, but they did. hearing that he was only pitying you sent you over the edge as you hung up the phone, throwing it at the floor angrily. your hands formed into fists as you closed your eyes, trying to catch your breath. but with each inhale, you felt as if you were suffocating. you wanted to wake up from this terror but you knew it was just a twisted reality. you didn’t even notice how your form was shaking from overwhelming emotions until jisung had reached over, pulling you closer into a side hug. he was just as speechless as you, if not more.

he shushed your cries, knowing it was the only thing you could do.

-

a few hours had passed at this point, and you didn’t even notice how you fell asleep with jisung. normally you two would split between the floor or the bed, but it was clear that you were exhausted. the afternoon had turned into nightfall, your open curtains inviting the moon. if you weren’t so out of it, you would’ve admired it’s beauty. you peered over as jisung was curled up beside you under the sheets, one arm wrapped loosely around your shoulders and the other over his face. he was such a good friend that you didn’t know how to thank him. he did not need to stay here by your side yet he did. he would never admit it, but he was incredibly selfless. as you tried adjusting your sight, you realized your eyes were puffy from crying, and it honestly hurt to try and focus in the dark.  you laid your body back down, snuggling deeper into your comforter before trying to head back to rest. without warning, your door swung up to reveal a worried minho.

“what the fuck is this?” 

his voice boomed through the room, causing you and jisung to bolt upright out of bed. your attention turned to a frantic looking minho clutching his phone in his hands. there was a vein popping out on the side of his neck from how stressed out he was, and his hair was disheveled from constantly running his hands through it. anyone would be able to see how fucked up he was over this. not to mention minho was worried sick because you still were not answering your phone, and now jisung wasn’t. when he called yeri to check up on you, she revealed that jisung had slept over. minho was furious, but for what?

“why haven’t you been answering your phone? do you know how worried i’ve been about you, i thought you died!” he started, then pointing his finger at jisung. “and you, what the hell do you think you’re doing in (y/n)’s bed?”

jisung gulped in fear as he avoided eye contact, trying to find the words to reply. never had the older male raised his voice like that at anyone, much less jisung. minho could be scary when mad, but you weren’t going to let behave like this. you believed he didn’t have a right to be so upset. because you weren’t going to let him do this to you, act like he was the victim and that you hurt him. he hurt you first, didn’t he see that? or was he really that blind? 

“first off, i don’t need your permission to have anyone stay the night so don’t talk to him like that. two, i don’t need to answer to you or anyone else but myself.”

minho chewed at the inside of his cheek, a death stare focused on you. “excuse me?”

“i said that i don’t need to answer to you. shouldn’t you be with your girlfriend anyway? it’s obvious you care more about her than you do about your friends. go, we don’t want you here.” you sneered at him, placing your hands on your hips firmly.

“what are you talking about, (y/n)? i don’t have a girlfriend. you’re not making any sense-”

“do not lie to me a second time!” you yelled.

both jisung and minho froze as they heard you raise your voice. minho knew what you could be like when you were furious like this, but he never thought you would be like that with him. it hurt a little as you stared at him like so sternly, so unwelcoming. for once in your friendship, he felt like he was trespassing. that shouldn’t be an issue between you two. minho tried to process his thoughts until he caught your words again, repeating it over and over in his head. guilt began to settle within him as he pursed his lips, thinking of saying something. however, nothing came out. all he could do was stare at the ground with shame digging itself into his skin. you deserved better than this. minho promised you so many things, and he had broken every single one. it was ironic, really, for someone who feared a broken heart. 

“(y/n),” he started hesitantly. “it’s not what it seems. let me explain.” 

you snorted while rolling your eyes. “really? because from what i remember, you promised me. you promised me you would never lie to me, or keep secrets from me. you lied to me!” 

your throat became thick as you tried swallowing any sobs that were bound to come up. you had pent up all of your frustration that this was finally the time you let minho have a piece of your mind. you wanted to scream at him, fight him, and hurt him. but all you could do was unleash the pain you had been holding in. 

“i never thought you would do this to me, minho. i never thought- i never thought you could just give up this friendship to someone who barely knows you! i always pictured you’d be with someone kind and full of love but she is a monster, don’t you see that minho? she is a bitch and-”

“wait, wait, wait. are you talking about hana? why are you saying these things about her? i know you’re upset with me, but don’t pull her into this.” he defended her, folding his arms across his chest.

your heart sank a little further as he didn’t immediately deny the fact that they were dating. instead, he defended her actions, and her role as his girlfriend. you were devastated; so it was true. you should’ve seen it coming, but you never thought it would be this soon. 

“hyung, (y/n) is telling the truth.” jisung tried to interfere, nevertheless, minho glared daggers at him.

“i’m not speaking to you right now. quiet.” he demanded.

his voice was eerily calm, making jisung cower in fear. you were not going to do that, though. you were going to stick up for yourself and the hell that hana had unleashed onto you. there is no way that minho could be so dull to not see the true colors of this girl. or maybe you were far too used to overestimating him.

“why is it that when it’s her word versus mine, you automatically defend her? am i not your best friend? i feel like i mean nothing to you anymore.” 

minho scoffed. “you’re being overdramatic. hana means a lot to me as well-”

“no, it’s obvious she means more to you. do you know what she did to me today, by the way? she told me to stay away from you, to never see you again or else. does that sound like someone you want in your life, lino?” 

you waited to hear reassuring words from your best friend, but instead, all you heard was the love of your life pushing you out of the way. his nostrils flared slightly in anger as he clenched his jaw, and his instinctively formed fists. never had he thought to raise his voice at you, but that was pushed away when the words left his mouth without control.

“you listen to me, and you listen carefully, (y/n). i don’t want you to ever speak of her like that ever again,” he pause to take a deep breath.

“it’s really low of you to be this jealous that you have to tear down the people that matter to me. i thought you were better than that.” he clicked his tongue, giving you a stare of disappointment. 

you couldn’t decide what hurt more, the fact that minho defended her or that he didn’t believe you. jisung wished to speak up and to let his friend know the truth, but he didn’t want to be scolded once more. the silence in the room was chilling, leaving goosebumps to arise on your arms. this had to be fake; this wasn’t the minho you knew and loved. tears had fallen past your eyes and onto your scorched cheeks. that sinking feeling returned to the pit of your stomach as it swallowed you whole. minho stared back with just as much intensity, knowing he hated seeing you cry especially when he was the cause. but he refused to back down from his word. instead he shook his head, turning around to walk out the door. you could hear the slam of the front door from your room, making you jump in fear. you were still unable to move from your spot as shock filled your system. did that really just happen?

you hadn’t even noticed the way jisung chased after his hyung. he pushed his short legs to run faster until he was now out of your apartment and near the parking lot. minho was walking rather fast with his stance intimidating but the younger boy didn’t care. he needed him to know the truth, and to know that you weren’t exaggerating.

minho felt a shove at the lower end of his back, causing him to trip a bit in front of him. when he whipped around to view who it was, a growl slipped his lips.

“yah, do you have a death wish?” jisung was not surprised to hear that.

“no, but do you? do you know what (y/n) has been going through ever since this hana girl entered your life? hm? do you? she’s telling the truth, i was here with her when that call took place.” 

minho chuckled bitterly. “i can’t believe you’re on her side here. i thought you were my friend.”

jisung’s eyes softened, showing just how upset he was over this. minho was not prepared for what came next, however, as the dongsaeng questioned every motive he had. 

“i am. and do you know what i value most in our friendship? no secrets, no lies. isn’t that the same promise you were supposed to keep with (y/n)? and here you are, breaking that promise. trying to validate what you did is inexcusable, man. why would she lie?”

the older of the two was at a loss of words as the guilt he faced earlier returned. it swirled around his body like an uninvited wind, reminding him how cold he felt in the situation. there was no reason for you to lie, so why was it that you would make something up like this? that’s the thing; you would never make this up. the realization was beginning to settle in him as minho came face to face with reality. he had hurt you, and made it out to be your fault. he took the side of someone he barely knew over you. over his best friend. over the love of his life.

“shit,” he muttered while throwing a hand to over his face.

this made jisung smile sadly, stuffing his hands in his pockets. “maybe you should fix this. just maybe.” 

letting out a groan, minho cursed at himself. he had fucked up so badly. jisung was quick, though, to ask a question that was still clearly in his head. “are you really dating hana by the way?”

minho shook his head and scoffed. “no.”

minho glanced up from his solemn expression and nodded.normally he would come back with another scary remark but he didn’t have the energy to do it. he made his way back to your apartment with each step being heavier than the previous one. owning up to his mistakes wasn’t something he was used to. never had he hurt this badly before, so he was bound to face something completely new. taking all the courage he could, minho opened your door to see a vacant front room. yeri must’ve been somewhere else, which he wasn’t complaining about. no doubt she would’ve chewed his ass out. minho continued on until he was right outside your door. as his hand went to turn the golden knob, he heard a heartwrenching sound.

you held a hand over your mouth as you sobbed in your bed, your body curled up to offer any form of comfort it could. the words of your best friend replayed over and over until you could no longer bare it anymore. you were broken into pieces, scattering yourself so that they would be hard to find. but minho had the power to put you back together, despite how long it would take. 

you felt a body weigh down beside you on the bed, immediately reaching its arms around you. as your eyes fluttered open, the sight of him was made aware, making you sob harder. minho shushed you, combing back your hair from your eyes as he held you in place. you didn’t fight him, you didn’t scream at him, no. you let him hold you so that he could mend your broken pieces back together. this was his damage he had caused, it only seemed right to take care of it. 

“i’m sorry. i’m so sorry.” 

you shook your head almost instantly. “you’re just saying that. don’t lie to me-”

“i’m not. hey, look at me,” he whispered.

your eyes met his again, making you shiver. it had been so long since you were this close to him. it felt familiar, like home. because that’s what he was to you. nothing could ever change that, even if he had crossed you. 

“i will never lie to you again. you mean so much to me.” 

unlike his tsundere personality, his voice was soft as it wavered in the air. those words alone made your heart begin to beat again with a sense of excitement you thought you lost. that excitement began to build as he grew closer, his face fearlessly nearing yours. his eyes never left yours, and you felt the overwhelming urge to close the gap between you. and so you did.

your lips molded against each other in a way you couldn’t describe. you were exploring new found territory, having experience something you never deemed possible. it was gentle, but powerful. his hands caressed your lower back as he held you closer to himself, chests up against each other. fireworks were an understatement. it felt like the universe was finally aligning again to ensure your happiness. it was a comforting hug that let you knew everything was going to be alright. it was minho showing you that you were more than hana would ever be. 

as he drew back, he pressed his forehead against yours. he couldn’t help but to say the words he had been holding back on ever since the day you met.

“i love you, (y/n).”

your eyes bulged as you looked at him in disbelief. these were words you were wanting to hear for so long. but were they genuine? or to make you feel better? you grew defensive before letting your heart speak any truth.

“i don’t need you to patronize me, minho. if you’re just saying that . . . “

“i’m not. i sincerely love you, (y/n).” 

“what about hana?” your insecurities were back at it again, and doubting anything that minho had said to you. you heard him chuckle as he responded coolly. “i was never with hana. i love you.”

a smile broke out on your lips. “no secrets, no lies?”

“no secrets, no lies.”

soooooo this is really shitty and im really sorry :/ I’ve been writing this for so many weeks and this is all i got out of it lmao <333 might make a part two with smut HA let me know if y’all want that thanks for the request @minholuvs

[sckyie]

song: driver’s license by olivia rodrigo

word count: 2.5k

genre + warnings: angst; swearing, fear of driving, reminiscing in old memories

pronouns used: she/her

a/n: this was orignially supposed to just be an imagine inspired by the song, not apart of the song series but it fits too well to not change oikawa’s song. i also wrote this for @kybabi​​ bc i love her :D n e wayz enjoy :) (part 2)

"So here you're going to turn and he'll make you do a parallel park in the street. You remember how to do that right?" Oikawa asked as he guided you to the next turn. As you turn the steering wheel, you spot a crowded curbside.

"No, can you please please park for me? I hate parallel parking," You pleaded.

"Only because you asked so nicely," He teased.

Ever since you told your best friend that you wanted to learn how to drive, Oikawa never let it go whenever you wanted to hang out. Having you drive him around for practice and giving you tips as you went. He's helped you a ton while you drove around, the only issues you had were parallel parking and merging onto the highway.

"Maybe we should try the highway again," Oikawa said after you two switched seats.

"Are you asking for a death wish?" You joked. "I drive too slow and I'm scare to merge into lanes."

"We can practice on smaller freeways if you want," He asks.

"No," You growled.

It was always a terrifying thing to drive on the highway. You always saw those horrid accidents and feared being in one. Oikawa would always put his hand on your thigh as you merged to calm you down. Just having him be there was enough to get you to get onto the highway. All your fears just faded with him beside you.

Just having this intimate driving lesson with him was enough for you. You grew to fall in love in your best friend. A cliché thing, yet you couldn't say anything. Only you and your girl friends knew about your big crush. It was a funny thing, falling for your childhood best friend. Iwaizumi always joked about you doing so but you never admitted to liking Oikawa. What would that do to your friendship?

Today was the day, it was your test day. The scariest thing you anticipated was finally here. The thing you practiced days on end with Oikawa. The thing that could either make or break you. Today, you'd either come out with your license or you'll be walking home.

The nerves crept up your body like spiders leaving a trail of anxiety webs. You bounced you leg as you waited in the lobby looking out for your driving instructor. As your sweaty palms go to check the time, you notice a text message from Oikawa.

butthead: hey! good luck on your test today!

That's what cooled you down. A simple saying of good fortune will help, right? Sure enough, the test was a breeze, minus the parallel parking as it was the one mistake you got. You happily drove home to tell the news to your parents.

"Have you told Tooru yet?" Your mom asked.

"I'll wait until my actual driver license to prove to him I got it," You smiled.

"You like him don't you?" Your mom gestured to the joy on your face. "I can tell."

"No," You looked away from your mom as she raised her eyebrow. "Okay, maybe but you can't say anything. I'm going to my room now." She chuckled as you dragged you feet to your room.

Two weeks passes and you finally received your license in the mail. You smiled happily down at your new card as you walked outside the school building. You looked up to search for your best friend. Your eyes scanned the courtyard before landing on Iwaizumi. Assuming Oikawa was nearby, you headed towards him.

"Hey Iwa, where's Oiks?" You asked. Iwaizumi raised up his hand and pointed across to the gate. You looked over to find Oikawa talking to Kasumi, a classmate of yours.

"He's asking her to go on a date with him again," Iwaizumi says.

Again? He's done it before?

"Are they dating?" You ask.

"Not yet, Oikawa wants to ask her to be his girlfriend on the date," Iwa explains. "What's that?" He points to your hands as you fiddled with the corner of your driver's license.

"Oh," You said solemnly. "I got my license."

You waved goodbye to your childhood friend before going into he parking lot. Without thinking, you started the car and just began to drive. Out of the school and onto who knows where. Your mind grew blank as you drove.

How could he not mention Kasumi to you? He used to tell you everything but lately he'd been so distant. Maybe that's why he hasn't texted you all week, you thought. Who could blame him for liking Kasumi? She's so pretty and not to mention how smart she is. She's the class representative and she's one of the nicest girls around.

You fell for the one man you shouldn't have. It was too late to even confess how you felt. He was already falling for another while you were left behind. You felt a sharp pain in your chest as you drove by familiar buildings.

The laundromat where you and Oikawa would go to help with the laundry. You both would end up messing around and your parents would have to kick you two out. You and Oikawa would go across the street to the convenience store to buy steamed buns.

He doesn't like you.

The library where you would wait for Oikawa to finish practice so you two could study together. He'd bring you a bottle of tea and some sort of snack to keep you from burning out. Those study dates where you'd stay until the library was closed.

Give up, stop thinking of him.

The ramen restaurant where Oikawa would take you if he won a game. It was a great celebration and you two had made so many memories there. You two had gone there so often, he convinced the owner that you were his girlfriend.

Let him go.

All the feelings you had for him began to ache in your heart as you reminisced in the memories. You gripped tighter on the wheel as you saw an highway exit. "Fuck," You whispered as you merged into the fast lane. Suddenly all those fears you had of driving, just disappeared. You felt this peace as your eyes locked on the long highway. It was like, nothing hurt anymore. Your tensed shoulders relaxed, yet you felt tears roll down your cheeks. You took deep breaths as you drove attempting to stop your tears.

Soon enough, driving on the highway had shifted from a phobia to an escape. Everyday after school, rather than meeting up with Oikawa and Iwaizumi before practice, you'd drive on the highway and on backroads. It was the only thing that kept you sane when you see Kasumi with Oikawa together.

You became accustomed to the fast pace of the highways. Occasionally you'd speed if you felt some type of pain grow in your chest. You'd blast music to drown out any thoughts or feelings you had. You knew Oikawa could never be yours, so why bother crying over him, right? The thought of being around him began to make you uncomfortable. If you kept your distance, you wouldn't get hurt. You wouldn't be considered a distraction.

butthead: hey?

you: what's up?

butthead: it's been a while since i've seen you :( i miss my best friend

you: are you sure you mean to text me or iwa?

butthead: you, y/n i miss hanging with you

butthead: you didn't come to the restaurant after our game

you: i was busy, sorry

butthead: :(

you: i gotta go, ill talk to you later

Oikawa sighed at his phone and looked across the table to Iwaizumi. "Have you talked to Y/n lately?" He asked.

"Yeah, she borrowed gas money from me," Iwa says before slurping his noodles.

"Gas money? She got her license?" Oikawa tilts his head. "How long has it been?"

"A month? You got caught up with Kasumi," Iwaizumi says.

"Hmph," Oikawa huffed as he sipped his drink. He'd been spending so much time with Kasumi that he forgot about you. Or was it, you started to forget about him? He glances at the window behind Iwa and noticed a familiar car parking.

You parked your car across the street of the restaurant next to a convenience store. You quickly got out and went into the store looking for something to drink. As you began to scan the fridge, you heard the door open. "Y/n?" You turned to find Oikawa.

"What are you doing here?" You turned back to grab a soda.

"Iwa came to eat with me since you didn't make it," Oikawa says. "He's still there, did you want to join us?"

"No thanks, I'm kinda busy at the moment," You say dully. Oikawa goes to speak but you had already walked to go pay for your drink. "Later Oikawa."

"Oikawa?" He watched as you left the store and into your car. He follows suit and watched you speed off. Oikawa quickly makes his way back to the restaurant and seats himself disgruntled. "Y/n called me Oikawa..."

"That's your name isn't it?" Iwaizumi raised his eyebrow.

"She always calls me Oiks or Ru, never Oikawa," He says. "Did I do something wrong?"

Iwaizumi shrugged even though he knew the answer well enough. After Oikawa had asked Kasumi to be his girlfriend, your demeanor had changed. Iwa was the first to notice too. Typically, after school you'd see the duo before practice started, yet since you learnt Oikawa had eyes for another, you stopped.

One day, Iwaizumi decided to follow after you when school was over. He trailed behind as you walked to your car door. You pulled open the door handle only for Iwa to shut the door immediately after. You turned to find Iwaizumi with scrunched eyebrows. "What's wrong with you?" He asked. "Why haven't you came by before practice?"

"No reason, I'm just busy," You lied.

"Liar, what's wrong?" He asks yet you remained silent. "I won't tell Shittykawa just tell me why you're being so distant...and also why your eyes are always puffy."

You paused before answering, "I'm just...upset with Oikawa...and Kasumi.."

"Do you..?" Iwaizumi implied. You nod and looked at the ground. "What have you been doing since you found out about them?"

"Driving," You sighed. "Just driving...It's keep me off my mind all week. I bear the fact that he looks so happy with her and not...me. God I'm so stupid."

"Don't say that-" Iwa started but you immediately lashed out.

"It's true! I was too late to confess! And I fell for the one boy I can't have!" You felt tears well up in your eyes. "I can't even drive by certain places without getting upset. I take backroads and I avoid them completely. I hate driving by his house but it's the only way to my own. He just treats me like another fucking fan girl! I'm just so stupid for falling for my best friend." Since that day, Iwaizumi kept to his promise. Not word about your feelings were said to Oikawa.

butthead: hey are you busy right now ?

you: no, what's up?

butthead: can you help me with something?

you: depends

butthead: meet me at the library so i can tell you more :)

You locked you phone and tossed it into your passenger's seat. You looked up to see the light change to green, allowing you to speed into the highway. Your hands rested at the bottom of the wheel as you drove. The slow, lo-fi music surrounded your car as you drove which let you get out of your trapped mind.

It was a crazy thought to think that you and Oikawa were so excited to drive together. Yet now all you want to do is drive alone. You turned up the volume of your music as you merged into your neighborhood. You leaned further back into your seat as you were driving around the suburbs. You glance at the white cars lining one street leading to the library. You scoffed at the sight as a repressed memory resurfaced.

"Why do you like white cars so much?" You chuckled.

"Because they look clean and nice? Sorry I don't like your basic silver car," Oikawa raised his hand to block your face.

"I'm basic? Says the one who wants an automatic," You pretend to throw up to mock him.

"For someone who can't drive yet, you talk big," Oikawa pats your head only to be smacked a few seconds late. Oikawa drapes his arm over you as you walked down the street to the library The entire walk was filled with mocking and talking about the future. "Let me teach you how to drive, that way we could go out together more."

You finally arrived at the library, spotting Oikawa before parking the car. He watches as you easily parallel park and is stunned by how casual you are as you drove. You set out and approach him. Oikawa holds out a snack to you but you politely refuse.

"Let's go inside?" He asks. You shrugged and followed him in. Rather than sitting beside him like usual, you sat across from him. You still had those feelings for him but you couldn't stand sitting next to him. Your heart was pounding out of your chest as you anticipated his next words. "I was wondering if you could help me with Kasumi?"

Ouch.

"With what?" You ask.

"I want to give her a gift, right?" He starts. "A gift that goes along with me telling her I love her."

He loves her?

Your heart aches but you decide to move past that. "Isn't it a bit early to say I love you?"

"Well, we were long time friends before we started dating and I feel like it's the right time to, y'know?" Oikawa leans forward on the table. "Can you help me find a gift?"

This feels familiar. Helping him find a gift for a girl that isn't you. It seems like anytime he does have a crush he'd come to you for advice. This is the first time that you didn't want to give into his favors.

"No," You sighed.

"No? Wait why not?" He raised his eyebrows at you.

"Because," Say it. "Because I-"

"Because?" Oikawa tilts his head at your response.

"Because I can't keep doing things like this for you," You stood up and began heading for the entrance. Oikawa followed afterwards as he could see the pain in your voice.

"Y/n, talk to me, we haven't talked in forever. Tell me what's wrong," He says as you exit the library. You ignore his voice and reached for your car door. He grabs your arm but you shove him off.

"Would you just- leave me alone?" You snapped. "I don't want to help you, okay?"

"What did I do?" Oikawa was beyond confused at your response.

"I- You- Ugh! Just go away, I don't want to see you!" Your voice cracked as the suppressed feelings began to rise again.

"Why not!" Oikawa grabbed your arm again, this time you weren't able to break free.

"Because I fucking loved you idiot!" You yelled. Hot tears streamed down your cheeks as you stopped struggling in his hold. Oikawa paused and stared at you in wonder.

"You...loved me?" He asked.

"I still fucking love you! God, I hate you- I just- Let go!" You pulled off him. "I'm leaving. If you try to stop me, I'm never speaking to you again." You wiped your tears as you entered your car. Driving off into the neighborhood, crying at the red lights knowing you could've ruined your whole friendship.

Oikawa watched as you sped off. Those words lingered in his ear as he stared down at his hand where you let go. His mind was lost in thought, how could his best friend love him? Was he that blind that he couldn't see your admiration? "She...loves me?" He thought.

taglist: @amillionfandoms-onlyoneme​ @d0llpie​ @elianetsantana @joy-laufeyson @kac-chowsballs

[lio-the-chaotic-nonbeanie-weenie]

A Supernatural World: Chapter 1

NEXT

Summary: Fleeing their hometown of Miami, Florida due to it growing far too dangerous, Roman and his vampire brother Remus move to Detroit, Michigan. Remus hopes it’ll be safer here for his human (or so he thinks he’s human) brother. Roman only wishes to start anew after a traumatizing incident in his last college, hoping to make new friends and maybe even find love. They don’t know what this city or the future holds but it’s going to be quite the adventure as they explore their new surroundings and the…interesting people that live in it.

Pairings: Eventual roceit, Eventual Intrulogical, slowburn roceit, slowburn Intrulogical, romantic roceit, romantic Intrulogical. BROTHERLY CREATIVITWINS (rem/rom shippers fuck off)

WARNINGS: IMPLIED ABUSE, MENTIONS OF ABUSE, MORE TO BE ADDED AS THE STORY GOES ON

(A/N: Finally got back into some kind of writing pattern so enjoy!)

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Pitter Patter

Pitter Patter

Remus watches as the sparkling raindrops streaked down the window of the taxi that he and his brother, Roman, were currently in. It’s a rainy evening in Detroit as they near their apartment. It isn’t anything fancy but it has all the utilities they need and a room they could share. It certainly had been a while since Remus had shared a room with his twin. His parents would always separate them, their mother saying Remus was a bad influence on their so-called perfect Roman. Neither of them believed it and always found a way to see each other. Though punishment always followed should they be caught.

  That was then and here they were now. No more horrible parents. No more horrible home. They’re in a new city now and they just want to start fresh. Remus was going to explore and get supplies once he and his brother were settled in. It’s not easy being a vampire who constantly had to be out at night or help his brother sleep. Speaking of sleep, Remus glances over at his twin. He smiles fondly as his older brother snores away on his shoulder. It’s always nice to see his twin peacefully resting. He only wished he didn’t have to use his magic to keep him like this. But it was that, or intense nightmares every single night. 

Remus sighs and adjusts the red scarf that he wrapped around Roman when they left their home. Roman had been through a lot. From the abuse at home to an incident in college that he never got justice for, Roman would have nightmares of it all and Remus would use his magic to calm him down. It’s probably not the safest trick but Roman had begged him to keep using it ever since he found out about it. At least Roman was resting better for now. 

“Ferndale District Apartment Building, sir.” the taxi driver suddenly cuts through, tired eyes gazing at the twins.

Remus nods in reply and turns to his twin, gently shaking him awake.

“Wake up, Ro. We’re here.”

Roman whines and yawns, eyes fluttering open as he sits up.

“Already?” he asks sleepily. 

Remus chuckles softly.

“Yeah. Come on, Ro. You can sleep some more once we get our stuff in.” he says, patting his brother’s head.”

“Kay.”

Roman stretches and sits up, getting out of the car as Remus paid the driver. It’s cold and wet but the rain seems to be letting up into a light sprinkle. He looks around and there isn’t much. Another car passes by and a dog barks in the distance. Roman can make out a small gas station across the street, its dying neon sign flickering like an old lamp. Beside it is a convenient store that’s closed for the night, a laundromat right across it that’s still open. He watches for a moment as a mother and daughter, both sopping wet from the rain, run inside the laundromat. Then Roman turns back, seeing his twin unload the trunk. So, Roman follows and helps with getting their items out. 

They have two boxes, a luggage bag, and a backpack each filled with their belongings as well as food and drinks and emergency supplies. Then there’s three boxes full of other miscellaneous items like toiletries, plates and cups, silverware, pillows, blankets, and other things they grabbed. The apartment may be furnished but it didn’t have everything. It takes over thirty minutes but they managed to bring everything into the building. The taxi leaves and the twins sigh in relief as the warmth of the building melted away the cold feeling in their bones. Remus then heads to the front desk and speaks with the receptionist, a red-haired man with green eyes and freckles, so he could get their apartment key.

Meanwhile, Roman looks around again. It isn’t much but it feels cozy. There was a lounge across from the desk with a moss green carpet and dark brown leather armchairs. A small but sleek black coffee table sits between them, a flower vase holding bright red roses on it. In the corner is a small fish tank, bubbling away as two dwarf gourami swam around each other. On the faded mahogany wall is a painting of a hand. Roman can just barely make out the artist’s signature at the bottom. ‘C.Manfred’ is written in black cursive in paint at the lower left  corner. Roman hums and admires it for a moment.

“Oh, I wasn’t aware that the newcomers were here already, Jeremiah.”

Roman jumps at the sudden voice, turning around.

There stood a man in a black a blazer over a dark yellow turtleneck. He also wore matching black gloves and a black bowler hat. What confused Roman is the eye bandage on the man’s left eye and his black face mask. The man walks towards the front desk, standing by Remus. He looks him up and down for a moment before turning to the receptionist, Jeremiah, and greets him.

“Oh, they just arrived, Janus. I just gave them their room key. And here’s your mailbox key.” Jeremiah replies, handing the key to Janus.

Janus nods and takes it, making his way to the mailboxes beside the front desk.

“I must say, you’re both quite intriguing.” he says, glancing at Remus again before turning back to open his mailbox.

Remus blinks. He could’ve sworn he saw a glint of gold in Janus’ eyes.

“I’m just a guy moving in with his brother. I don’t see anything special about that.” he replies, playing it safe.

Janus chuckles quietly and grabs his mail, tucking it away in his blazer.

“No? I think you are. I’ve never met someone like you, especially. I tend to keep to myself, you know?” he hums.

Remus blinks again. Oh. Now he gets it.

Janus sees Remus finally getting it and chuckles again.

“Now, now, no need to fret. Your, ah, secret is safe with me.” he says, holding up his right hand.

That makes Remus relax a little.

“Right. Sorry. I’m just being safe” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “Oh, I’m Remus and that’s my brother, Roman.”

Roman waves shyly as Janus glances towards him, flustering awkwardly.

“It’s alright. It’s nice to meet you both.” Janus replies. “My name is Janus.”

“It’s nice to meet you too, Janus.” Remus nods before turning to Roman. “Come on, Ro. We gotta haul this upstairs.”

“But we can’t carry this all in one trip!” Roman whines.

“Oh, where’s your apartment?” Janus asks.

Remus checks the key.

“Number 413.”

“Ah. It’s not too far from my place. I’m in 501. Just a floor above and the first door on the right.”

“Ooh, we’re neighbors! Yay!” Roman cheers.

Janus huffs a laugh.

“That we are. So, would you like some help?”

Remus looks over to Roman and Roman nods eagerly. Remus chuckles and shakes his head with a smile.

“Sure. Just be careful. Some of the boxes have fragile things.” he replies.

Janus nods.

“Of course.”

With that, the twins grabbed their personal boxes while Janus handled the remaining three. He was surprisingly strong and didn’t even seem to struggle. Remus is pretty sure that the big box on the bottom was quite heavy. Janus doesn’t have a complaint and they pile into the elevator. As it slowly heads for the fourth floor, Janus finds himself curious about the twins. He knows by now that Remus is...well...not exactly human. He wants to know even more.

“So, what brings you two here? It’s been a while since we’ve had someone move in.” Janus says after a beat of silence.

The twins tense a little and shift.

“Oh dear. Too soon to ask?”

Remus shakes his head.

“No. Just caught us off guard. We settled here since it was the first place we could find after searching for so long. We’ve been on the run across the country. All the way from Miami, Florida actually. We’ve been in and out of hotels along the way here. We looked everywhere online for a good place where the rent price wasn’t a fuckton of dollars. After looking for so long, we found this place and here we are.” he explains.

Janus nods, feeling concerned.

What had these twins been through?

“I see,” he replies. “If you don’t mind me asking, why were you on the run?” 

Roman answers this time.

“Home was bad.” he replies quietly, sighing as he gazes at a poster advertising a pirate themed amusement park.

If Remus didn’t have his arms full with boxes, he’d comfort his twin. He can only give him a sad smile.

“Yeah, mom and dad weren’t exactly dearest to us. We got up and left not too long ago while they were away at some big business meeting. I stole their money too. They were greedy fucks anyway.” he sighs.

Janus gives them a sympathetic look. It’s hard to tell with his mask but he’s smiling sadly too.

“I’m sorry to hear that. I’m glad you got out though. I get it. My mother and father weren’t exactly loving either.”

“Is that why you wear those on your face?” Roman chimes in, glancing at Janus.

“Roman!” Remus hisses.

Janus smiles softly, finding Roman’s innocence a little endearing.

“It’s alright. I suppose it’s partially why. They never did like my...birthmarks.” he replies.

“Oh. I’m sure they’re not that bad.”

“Trust me, my dear. This is something you don’t want to see.”

Roman flusters. He finds himself feeling a little warm with how charming Janus is.

“O-Okay then.”

They continue talking some more, Roman excitedly telling Janus his plans as they continue trekking to their apartment. Roman wanted to get back into theatre now that he was free to do so. Remus occasionally joined in on the conversation, mentioning that he wanted to explore the city and be familiarized with the area...for reasons. By the time they reach the apartment door, Roman is giggling and seems to have already become friends with Janus. The conversation continues as they enter the apartment. 

It’s spacious enough for two, a small hallway leading into the living room. The walls are a light beige and the hardwood floors are a faded oak that seemed to have been waxed not too long ago. There’s another hall to the left of the living room and another hall to the right. The left hall leads to the bedroom and bathroom. The right hall leads into a small kitchen and dining room. There’s also a small laundry area at the end of that hall. It isn’t much but the twins like it. Any place that isn’t their old home is safe enough for him.  

Remus heads in first and Roman curiously follows with Janus trailing behind him. They gather in the living room, boxes set down to be unpacked in the morning. For now, the twins look around the apartment. Remus spots the heating system by the light switch in the hall and fiddles with it for a moment. Roman sees a big sliding glass door and immediately heads over there, making a sound of delight as he gets the lock undone with a click before sliding the door open. He steps out and is greeted with a good view of Detroit despite only being four floors up. He can see a train station, an abandoned dockyard with an old rusted freighter still floating in it, and part of the Ambassador bridge despite how dark the city is.

“So pretty! I’ve always wanted my own balcony!” Roman says, beaming as raindrops sprinkled all over his cheeks.

Remus chuckles.

“You can hang out there tomorrow, Ro. Come back inside. It’s cold out.” he calls. “And shut the door.”

“Kay!”

Roman lingers for a moment longer then does as his twin says, coming in and shutting the door before locking it too.

“I like our new home.” he says, joining Remus and Janus.

Remus pats Roman’s head.

“Good, because we’re stuck here for a long time.” he says. 

Janus smiles softly, seeing how the twins really care for each other. 

“I’m glad you like it here. I hope you’ll sleep through the night. There’s a certain apartment down the hall upstairs that tends to be loud often.” he tells them, setting down the boxes he’d been carrying.

“I’ve slept through worse.” Remus shrugs though there’s a dark look in his eyes.

Remus still remembers hearing his mother scream, her shrill but sharp and haunting voice overpowering Roman’s cries. And if it wasn’t her, it was their father. Their father would beat Roman, drunk or not. Remus couldn’t do anything about it, having been locked away in the basement for most of his time in that old house. Didn’t mean he escaped those beatings. His father made sure he had his ‘fair share’ of punishment.

Janus smiles sadly. Just how badly had these twins been hurting?

“I see. Still, I figured I’d let you know ahead of time.” he says, deciding not to push it. “If you don’t need anything more, I have to go now. It’s late after all.”

Roman looks up from the boxes. He was about to open one when Janus said he had to go.

“Already? But I liked having you here, Janus.” he says, pouting a little. 

Janus huffs a laugh.

“Don’t worry, Roman. We’ll meet again soon. I don’t leave my apartment so I’m almost always home. Feel free to come over anytime soon, my dear.” he smiles softly.

Roman flusters again. Something about Janus makes Roman feel a little warm. 

“O-Okay then. Bye bye, Janus. It was nice to meet you.” he says, smiling bashfully.

“Goodbye, Roman.” 

Roman waves and watches as Janus leaves, happy to have already made a new friend. 

Meanwhile Remus was a little wary. So much has happened due to Roman trusting almost every person he’s met. The college incident was one of them. After that, Roman had a hard time trusting new people. So it’s a little surprising to see Roman easily get along with Janus and trust him. Especially with sharing a bit of his trauma. Shaking his head, Remus smiles fondly. At least Roman is happy for the time being.

“So, you already found a friend in Janus?” Remus asks.

Roman blushes a little, still smiling bashfully.

“Yeah. I think he’s nice. And I know I probably shouldn’t trust people so soon but I think Janus is someone we can trust.” he says. “I know it.”

Remus chuckles.

“If you say so, Ro. Now come on, we still have to unpack some stuff so we can get ready for bed.” he says, ruffling Roman’s hair again.

“Okay!”

So with that, the twins unpack what they can, filling the kitchen cabinets with what bit of food they could bring from their old home along with the kitchen cutlery. They had grabbed as many things needed when they first left their old home and kept it with them as they moved around. Their toiletries were from the many hotels they stayed at. For food, they either ate at the hotel’s buffet or had small meals from the stores around the place. 

Remus had stolen most of their greedy parents’ money for themselves to use but did his best to save it. Now that they have a new place to call home, Remus decides he’ll go grocery shopping in a few days. In the meantime, Remus was content to live off of the food they picked up on their way here. It wouldn’t be the first time they had instant noodles and a small bag of potato chips. 

Soon the twins unpacked what they could, the two bringing their luggage bags into the bedroom. They got undressed and into some warm pajamas. Roman’s pajamas are a plain white t-shirt and a pair of red sweats. Remus’ pajamas are a pair of grey sweats and a Thriller t-shirt. Now that they were in comfy clothes, Remus leads Roman to the bed.

“Alright, bed time, Ro.” Remus says, setting up Roman’s night light before joining him.

Roman gets in bed, holding a small crown plushie that Remus made for him to stim with. He’s quiet as he thinks about their safety. Yes, they were away from that awful place now but anything could happen. Especially with Remus being a vampire. Remus is an easy target for hunters and much more feral vampires. Roman has seen those vampires, one of them having even tried to drink his blood. Remus saved him though. Still, what if-

“Earth to Roman. You in there, Ro?” Remus taps his forehead.

Roman blinks and shakes his head clear, settling in bed.

“Sorry, Ree. I’m just a little worried. What if we’re found here or another feral vampire hurts me? What if it’s not safe here too?” he asks, fiddling with his crown plushie. 

Remus smiles softly, tucking Roman in.

“We won’t be found here. I made sure of it. Besides, if anything happens, I’ll be there to protect you. You know I’ll beat their asses.” he says.

Roman giggles.

“You always do, Ree.”

“Hell yeah. Now, get some rest. We have a lot to do tomorrow.”

Roman nods, yawning.

“Okay. I’ve been wanting to get into theatre now that we’ve settled. You think the local college will accept me?” he asks.

Remus pats Roman’s head.

“They will. You’re super talented, Ro. You’re gonna do great.” he says.

Roman smiles at that before shifting.

“Okay...um...can you do that thing to help me sleep?” he asks.

That thing is basically Remus using his magic to help Roman sleep better and to manipulate his dreams so that the nightmare stays away.

“Of course.” Remus smiles softly, his eyes glowing a soft red. “Sleep.”

Remus waves his fingers and a red, sparkling aura of magic swirls from him and into Roman’s head, making him feel hazy and tired. Soon his eyes flutter shut and his breathing evens out. After a few moments, Roman is deep asleep. Remus sighs in relief and stands up, looking back at his brother for a moment before moving to turn off the lights. Then he slips out of the bedroom to continue unpacking and cleaning up. Hopefully tomorrow will be good for both of them now that they’re here. 

[tuffduff]

But...I Like You (Dave Mustaine x Reader)

Pairing: fluff Dave Mustaine x female reader

Words: 2,384

Summary: Dave’s never been one for the holidays or romance, not until one fateful day at the laundromat changes everything. Suddenly, he finds himself seeing The Nutcracker and wonders just what lengths he’d go for this girl.

Taglist: @ubernoxa @the--blackdahlia @reigns420 @stradlin-cold-heartbreaker @rumoured-whispers

Dave couldn’t recognize himself in the mirror. His frame was wrapped in a new and unusually lavish coat, the first coat he owned that actually fit him—hell, the first coat he had bought ever. There was a scarf around his neck made of something called cashmere, something he never thought he would have adorning his body. Most notable, however, was the look of glassy fear in his eyes.

He had let go of general fear a long time ago. Fear held him back, and he wasn’t about to let anything hold him back. And who the fuck cares, really? But there it was again, that little uncertain glimmer making his eyes frown. He couldn’t decide what he didn’t like more—his outfit or the look on his face.

When he walked out to the living room of his apartment, he nearly tried to sneak back into his room, but Junior and Jeff had already caught sight of him.

“Woah there, is that you, Dave? Are you under there?” Jeff teased and Dave was already glaring.

“Man, where are you going, huh? I didn’t realize you even owned this outfit.” Junior added, to which Dave felt less anger, so he focused on him, rather than Jeff—who he still wanted to punch.

“To see a show.” He said curtly, trying to close the conversation forcefully, of course, to no avail.

“You’re not going to the movies dressed like that. Where are you actually going?” Jeff joked, glancing at Junior to be backed up.

“I never said movie.” Dave retorted, glaring at the guitarist before he gathered his wallet and looked for his keys.

“So, where are you really going?”

“I’m going to see a production, it’s at the Opera House, it’s a little more upscale—”

“Opera House? You’re going to see an opera?” Jeff exploded

“No.” Dave snapped, growing more annoyed.

“What does this mean for Megadeth?” Jeff just kept pestering until Dave finally yelled.

“It’s the fucking Nutcracker!” Jeff and Junior were silent before they began to laugh. “Look, it wasn’t my idea—clearly. The San Francisco Ballet Company is doing their annual show, apparently they were the first in the US to produce a full-length production, and Y/N really wanted to go…”

“Oh,” Junior realized, leaning his head back with a knowing look on his face that made Dave glare again. “Y/N.”

“Yeah, shut up about it.” Dave snapped. Jeff looked between them.

“Y/N? Who’s Y/N?”

“This girl Dave met a while back at the laundromat.” Jeff raised an eyebrow.

“Think you met ‘the one’ at the laundromat, huh?” Jeff said incredulously. Dave sent another glare at Junior before he finally saw his keys laying on the kitchen counter and snatched them up.

“You’ll never be capable of knowing what I think, Jeff. You lack the brain cells.” He snapped, leaving the apartment. Outside, he let out a breath that he could see in the air.

Was he being too harsh on his band mates? No, never that. Was he being defensive? Maybe. Was he being stupid? Yes.

Stupid for letting you actually make him have these little daydreams littering his head for the past few weeks.

It started at the laundromat, yes, but Dave wasn’t the type of man that idealized romantic prospects. The light didn’t hit you in a certain way and the angels didn’t sing like the way it always did in those cliche romance movies. Rather, you dropped your entire load of laundry on the floor in front of him.

“Shoot,” you had sighed, merely looking at the garments of clothing with disdained tiredness. As he watched it all unfold, he had imagined what he would do in that moment—probably react in some type of anger—and watched as a smile came across your face before you looked directly at him. It was just a brief moment, but Dave felt like he was confined to that chair for an hour. Like he’d never been seen before in his life until that moment, in the dimly lit dingy laundromat.

“It must be Monday.” You said, before calmly getting on your knees and beginning to put the clothes back in the basket. For some reason, he found himself next to you.

“It’s Sunday.” He corrected you, to which you laughed.

“Even worse.”

His hand landed on a Led Zeppelin shirt to which he glanced over at you. “You a fan?”

“Yeah! Love them. How can you go wrong with them?” You eyed him again longer than he expected and he nearly winced when you narrowed them speculatively. “You look familiar.”

“I’m in a band.” He admitted, before too quickly adding, “Megadeth.” He hoped to see realization light your eyes, but you shook your head.

“No. Maybe I’ve seen your face on MTV?”

“There’s a chance.”

“I was joking.” You laughed. “But clearly, you’re not, huh. You know, there’s a record store across the street. Prove it.” You smiled at him.

The both of you left your laundry to be washed and headed over to the local record shop decorated with string Christmas lights on the roof and frosted windows. He bought their latest for you So Far, So Good…So What? and briefly gave you quick insight about where he got the name of the band from, song titles, why he enjoyed music...

Okay, he spilled his guts. He couldn’t stop talking. But that wasn’t his fault—you were hanging onto his every word. You listened, really listened; you seemed to listen more than anyone he had ever spoken to. More than that, you seemed to understand. And so, he went back to the laundromat next week at the same exact time, walking as quick as he could and hating that fact that he was doing so, until he felt relief when he saw you inside again.

You remembered him too—you smiled when you saw him. “It must be Sunday, huh?”

“Got it right this time.” He replied with a smirk.

Dave was aware he could talk someone’s ear off. He had a lot to say about the world and its affairs and usually didn’t care a whole lot about other people’s thoughts—they were usually stupid. But you, he made an active attempt to listen to. He listened rather than spoke, and when he did speak, he would ask questions, trying to get to know you on an even deeper level. And just as he assumed, you kept his attention better than anyone else.

You had a way of looking at the world from a completely different perspective than him. Like it was something to be solved. Like a bad thing didn’t mean it was the end of the road. That nothing really stays dead, that every little thing has a purpose, a meaning.

“Surely that’s not true.” Dave finally said. “Not every single thing has a meaning. Some things are just the way they are and that’s the way it is.” You just smiled at him.

“If it weren’t for the fact that my washer broke, I wouldn’t have come here. And if it weren’t for the fact that I thought it was Monday—my usual laundry day—instead of Sunday, I wouldn’t have met you.”

Dave didn’t understand the way his heart pounded a little harder. He wondered if he imagined the way your eyes stared a little too long at his and felt absolutely stupid for even having such a thought. And yet, he couldn’t stop staring. He couldn’t keep his eyes from wandering down your body. He couldn’t stop himself from telling David about you.

Oh, he knew exactly what was happening. He was strapped in on a rollercoaster ride and he was nearing the drop, unable to do nothing but watch as he felt things he’d never felt before. The whole reason he pursued guitar playing was to pick up girls; he had had lots of girls. And you, you weren’t like them. You seemed to admire him for being in a band, but you were more interested in why he hated breakfast and never ate it. Or why he didn’t like Christmas.

“This doesn’t just make you automatically happy?” You questioned him, gesturing to the atmosphere that surrounded the two of you. Your meetings had upgraded to a coffee shop. Dave didn’t drink coffee, but he watched you order a hot chocolate and realized maybe that was okay and ordered the same.

“What? The crowds, the god-awful music, the annoying lights everywhere, everyone’s ugly sweaters?” You grinned and laughed, and he wished the sound could be pumped out of the shop’s speakers rather than “Jingle Bells.”

“It’s just the time of year when everything is supposed to go right.” You ignored him, smiling a little. “When I was a kid, I used to go and see The Nutcracker with my family every year. The San Francisco Ballet Company started it—they had the first full length production back in 1944. Or at least, that’s what my mom said.”

“I’m guessing they’ve got shows going on with it being so close to Christmas.” Dave wasn’t sure why he was saying that. You nodded.

“Yeah, their last show is Sunday.”

“Why don’t we go?” You were just as surprised as he was.

“What? You’re kidding. A ballet doesn’t seem very up your alley, Mr. Megadeth.”

“Try me, think I’m just some metal knucklehead that couldn’t appreciate it?”

“I don’t think you would like it.”

“Maybe I will, you don’t know me.” You chuckled, but still appeared unsure, which only made him more determined. “Look, you said you haven’t been in forever. I’m in a good place this year after the album, those tickets will be nothing. It’s on me. So, if I were you, I would just agree before I change my mind.”

“Well...alright.”

And here he was outside this damn theater, pulling on his coat, knowing his hair was out of place despite that fact that he had tied it back. He was still getting strange looks by the crowd of couples walking arm in arm into the theater, telling him without words that he didn’t belong.

“Dave?” He heard from behind him and turned. He was already thinking of some kind of dry teasing reply, but all words left his head at the sight of you, dressed nicer than he’d seen you yet, every hair in place. “Look at you! You own a scarf?” He scoffed, feeling a smirk grow on his face.

“Stole it from a guy on my way here.” He joked to make you laugh. To his surprise, you also leaned in and kissed his cheek. As if that’s just what you did. All of it was so foreign; you, this theater, this ballet show. And he was a puzzle piece that shouldn’t fit.

“Shall we?” You asked. He was still trying to find the words to compliment you, but instead, he nodded.

In your seats with the lights down, Dave alternated his time from watching the stage and the dancers to the other audience members, young and old alike. All of them seemed to fit each other’s company, each other’s social circle; he was the anomaly.

And then there was you, which he elected to watch for the rest of his time. The way your eyes quickly flitted back and forth as you took in the sight, your eyebrows raising, how you’d hold your breath for a second at the really dramatic parts.

All of a sudden, there was you, sweeter than a sugar plum, somehow embodying all the niceness everyone said Christmas was supposed to be about. Thanks to you, he was out of his element, and he felt like he was meant to be there. After all, where did he really belong anyway?

Did it matter if he could be anywhere with you?

“So?” You asked him eagerly after the show when the lights came back on. The two of you sat in your seats as everyone around you stood, in no hurry.

“You’re going to be surprised to hear this, but there are a lot of similarities between classical music and metal. Really, Tchaikovsky’s stuff isn’t so different than—”

“I meant the show! The story! Oh, did you see the costumes?” You laughed, and he smiled, shaking his head at you.

“To be honest, I was watching you most of the time.” You seemed startled by his words, and he took your speechlessness as the chance to keep going. “I couldn’t find the words to tell you earlier how beautiful you look. Really, this whole night I just kept thinking that maybe it was a mistake. That I’m not the type of guy that comes here, I’m the guy playing in the sleazy, dark club on the bad side of town. But I was wrong. And I’m glad I came; I should have done it right though. I should’ve brought you flowers, picked you up, I should’ve complimented you as soon as I saw you, I should have kissed you when you kissed my cheek—”

“Dave.” You interrupted him calmly, taking his hand in yours and giving him an ever-growing smile. “You have no idea how much this means to me. Christmas is my favorite time of the year, but this year it’s been so hectic, and I haven’t been able to really enjoy it...until now. That was all I actually wanted. I don’t care about the flowers.” He stared at you for a second before he smiled.

“That’s all?” He asked before he leaned in closer, grazing the side of your cheek with his lips as he whispered. “You don’t want one more thing?” He felt your hand rest on his cheek and turned his head to press his lips to yours, savoring the moment and realizing he had never really been kissed before, not like this.

“Well, I guess that too.” You mumbled with that sweet smile on your face before you looked up at him with big eyes. “Okay but really, was it up to your standards, or was I right all along?”

“I hate Christmas. And I don’t really enjoy the things that come with it.” He admitted with a keen smirk as he pulled back, and you giggled. He let himself enjoy the feeling of your face cradled between his hands, so used to always cradling a guitar, this new sensation—skin-on-skin—was intoxicating. As were your lips, that he leaned in again to steal another kiss from. “But...I like you.”

[macnevercries]

So for my request, can you write a story with Toshinori and a male reader practicing exhibition please? In the story, Toshi would do errands with the reader while wearing nothing but a trenchcoat, sandals and a face mask. In truth, Toshi is butt naked underneath with his cock in chastity, a vibrator and his mouth tape gagged. The reader would tease & taunt him in public. His goal is to finish his errands without anyone catching them or him cumming in public. What do you think?

Warnings- exhibition, d/s, established relationship, degrading, oral (receiving), dom reader, male reader

Word count- 1k

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

“You ready to go Toshi?” You smile at the man of boney stature, still quite tall despite being in his original form. He looked over to you from his spot in front of the mirror. His legs were shaking, you weren’t sure if he was nervous or excited but either way you were doing this.

“Y-yeah” he mumbled. His chastity belt felt a little tight, he was excited already. The vibrator you had stuffed up his ass wasn’t on but he almost moaned at how full he felt. All of this was hidden under his tan trench coat that barely went past his knees.

You came up behind him and taped a gag over his mouth, silencing his quiet whines. Sliding his mask up over his nose, you caressed his cheek lovingly.

“You’re such a good boy doing this for me Toshi, we’re gonna go run some errands and you’re gonna behave yourself okay?” you ask, already knowing his answer. He gives you a hurried nod, excited for what’s to come.

As you two walk around town, visiting the laundromat, post office and the bank you mess with the remote of his vibrator. Whenever you play with the settings he jumps a little, his legs quivering as he leans into you for stability so he doesn’t fall if they give out. You could feel your pants tightening at his adorable behavior. Who knew the ex-number one hero would get off on exhibition?

Your next destination was the grocery store, the last errand before you guys head home. You walked inside the store, strolling around and making Toshinori bend over to get your groceries, leaning back to get a nice view of his ass every time. He returned to the cart you were standing by with apples in his hands, his walk a little crooked from all his failed stimulation. Right before he reached the cart you turned the vibrator on its highest setting, causing him to drop the apples and fall over.

“Tsk” you muttered, leaning down to pick up the apples and place them with the rest of your stuff before helping him up. He clung to you desperately as his legs shook. You noticed a little drippage on the floor and you were taken aback. Had he come from the vibrator or from drawing attention to his barely covered form?

“You weren’t supposed to come Toshi, you decided to be a bad boy huh?” you spat in his ear, a quiet rage in your voice.

“mmmmh” he couldn’t help but groan, he felt too good. If you stayed here any longer people might start to notice. You pulled his slumped form up so he was standing straight, dragging him and your shopping cart into the nearest bathroom. Your cock was throbbing, but he didn’t need to know that, he needed to be punished.

You pushed him into the single person bathroom, practically ripping open his trench coat as soon as you locked the door. You undid his chastity belt and inspected his still hard length. The tip was red and pulsing, the entire thing was sticky with his cum.

“You broke the rules Toshi” you sighed, you were angry but you were buzzing with adrenaline. Seeing your partner desperate and getting off from other people seeing him like this, it excited you.

“You’re going to have to make it up to me, on you knees now” He scrambled to sit in front of you, setting himself so he was facing the painfully hard tent in your pants. Your removed his mask and ripped the tape off, earning a whimper from him. You grinned.

“Just like that, I know you can make it up to me, I know you can take my cock Toshi” He practically drooled at your words, his quick hands started unzipping your pants until you slapped them away.

“Use your mouth” you growled. He mewled in response, tucking his hands behind his back and unzipping your jeans with his teeth. He looked so pretty for you like this, so dirty. When your cock sprung out against your stomach he moaned loudly at the sight. You laughed at his reaction.

“Be as loud as you want baby, after all you want people to know don’t you?” you sneered. He quivered at your harshness, shaking with anticipation.

He licked the side of your cock, tracing circles around the tip lightly. You couldn’t take it anymore. You grabbed a fistful of his hair and used his face to your liking. He hollowed out his cheeks so he could take all of you, spamming and gagging as he did so. The way his throat contracted around you felt like heaven. Your head had been nodded back in pleasure but when your eyes snap down to your lover, you find him touching yourself. You slap him hard enough to leave a red mark, a hot stinging hand print engraved on his face.

“Who said you could touch yourself slut” you snapped.

“Are you really suck a cock-hungry whore that you get turned on by sucking me off? Pathetic” your words only drove him on, his dick was overflowing with pre.

He tucked his hands behind his back and you continue to fuck his face like he was a doll. A few more gags around your length has you cumming, shooting your hot seed down his throat and closing his mouth after pulling out.

“Swallow” you state. Toshinori saw a dark look in your eyes and he was unsure if it was lust or rage. Or both.

You tucked yourself back into your pants and helped your boyfriend up and get redressed.

“Seems like you made it up to me this time, now if you can make it out of this grocery store without cumming again then just maybe I’ll give you a present when we get home.” You told him, his eyes trained your lips, nodding eagerly at your deal. You left the bathroom and continued shopping, teasing him every once in a while.

People stopped to stare, pointing at the two of you. But that was what he wanted wasn’t it?

[eyestosee-earstohear]

It's been 2 weeks since we left Albuquerque in the warrior wagon (gold van). It's been days full of delays. Days of waiting on the Lord. Days of listening patiently for His direction. Every time we find ourselves waiting, we know that God has an ordained meeting or 2. The day we left Albuquerque we were trying to leave by noon, but didn't get out of town until 5:00 p.m. I took the children to the laundromat. It was their first time going and so fun to see them plop themselves in front of the industrial washing machines and watch with intensity. Paul was dealing with all things vehicle. The towing brake controller sparked and sizzled and had to be replaced. The hitch was stuck and we just couldn't get it installed. Delay after delay. We got on the road and between the East mountains and Edgewood we lost a bike rack and two bikes on the road and caused an accident. All glory to God that no one was hurt or angry. I had been following behind the trailer with the children in the white van. But God had sent some trucks that had edged me out and so I was in front of the trailer and safe when the bike rack came flying off the trailer.

We got back on the road and shortly after we had passed Moriarty, Paul called me and said that the warrior wagon wouldn't move and he was pulled over on the side of the highway. He waited for 4 hours for a tow back to Moriarty. The children and I found an RV park for the trailer to be towed back to. The warrior wagon was towed to a Moriarty garage. It was God's goodness that Paul met Clint, his tow truck driver. Clint remarked to Paul how well Paul was taking quite possibly one of the worst days ever. The Lord put it on my heart that we needed to talk to Clint further. Of course God took care of that meeting. The next morning Clint came by to donate a bike, that needs some work, to replace one of the ones we lost. We invited him in and had a very long conversation. Clint is a member of the LDS Church. However, he allowed us to pray for him and we talked about Jesus in depth. We could see the softness of the Holy Spirit moving in his heart. We ask that you continue to pray for Clint in his seeking truth. Asking God to show him that he does not need to earn his way to heaven.

We prayed some more about what we're to do. Jeff, the owner of Quality Garage, called to say that we needed a new transmission and he doesn't fix transmissions. He had recommendations for us and told us that he has no charge for his time. Another provision from God. We had our van towed to Albuquerque where it's currently waiting on a new transmission to be installed. We spent two nights in Moriarty, but the Lord wanted us to continue to our next location in Santa Rosa. We decided to rent a U-Haul to pull the trailer. Right after I dropped Paul off to get the U-Haul, I went to go over to pick up groceries before we left town. On the way there, the Lord told me to turn in to this location and speak to this woman named Lisa. I spoke to her and brought up what God told me about her gallbladder. Everything I said was true and she was a bit shocked. But that's how God works. As we spoke I found out she is a practicing pagan witch. The Lord had me rebuke her and tell her to turn from her ways and warn her of what is waiting for her in eternity. They were strong words and I was in shock and awe as I drove away. God said he was sending us out to speak His truth. Sometimes his truth comes out as encouragement and love and sometimes it comes out as a rebuke. Please pray for Lisa that she would turn from her pagan ways and into the glorious truth of Jesus.

After the grocery store and gas we had one last stop and ordained meeting before leaving Moriarty. We ordered lunch from a tiny local grill. Again, we were waiting. During that wait I started hearing from the Lord and He pointed out who I was to share with. He made that meeting happen too. The one I was supposed to speak to, brought our lunch out to our car. I spoke to Dorothy and told her what the Lord was saying, that the skin spot is harmless. I said I didn't know if it was for today or the future. But her jaw was dropped when I had told her what the Lord was saying. The next day her nephew was scheduled to go in for surgery for a skin spot on his face that they thought was cancerous. The Lord wanted me to reassure her that it was harmless and it was for the sake of His name that this was all happening. His name be known. Please be praying for Dorothy and her nephew and family that the one true God be known by them and be shown through them. Praise Him for his sweet comfort to this family.

We made it to Santa Rosa lake being towed by the U-Haul. We weren't sure how that was going to work, since we needed to return the U-Haul. We weren't going to be able to be parked in one spot, we were going to have to move. In obedience to God we came anyway. Of course he already had it worked out. The camp hosts and the Park rangers all had compassion for us. We've booked several sites for the next couple of weeks since there is not just one spot available for us to be in the entire time we're here. The camp hosts are using their truck to move us from spot to spot as we wait for our transmission. God's provision for us. We're really enjoying the beauty of the lake here and the hikes. We also know we're here to speak to people. We met Kevin and Jamie. Kevin has Jesus as his Savior. Jamie believes that we are all gods and there was nothing special about Jesus. She talks about her “God songs” and when the “spirit” is moving in her. My Father allowed some truth to shine in the words He had me speak to her. It’s not her blood or my blood that saved us from our sins, it’s Jesus blood. He is the only one. He is God wrapped in flesh. He lived perfectly, died on the cross, went to hell and took the keys to death and hell, rose from the grave and is seated at the right hand of the Father. Soon He is coming back to this earth. Anyone who believes that they can save themselves is worshipping idols. Jesus is the only Savior. Please pray for Jamie to rest in Jesus alone.

We met a man named Nathan from Texas and his three children. He doesn't see very much evil in the world. But he sure seemed like he was searching for something.  He was asking questions about God. Please pray that Nathan would find in his search the hope and joy in Jesus. The other day I spoke with and prayed for Jane and her family at the store. Please pray for salvation for her grandchildren and that she would have a thirst for God's word and for the veil to be lifted from her spiritual sight. When I went to the laundromat in town, there was another ordained meeting. I met Jennifer who is suffering a lot of pain and loneliness. I prayed for her and the pain left her hands. We talked about Jesus and the Lord just had me love on her and encourage her. I got her number. She is someone that we are going to spend some time with. The Lord had me check on her in town. She was really struggling physically. Zane and I laid hands on her and prayed and she got better. Please be praying for physical wellness for her.

At a burger place Zane and I stopped at I asked the Lord if I was supposed to talk to anyone there. He told me no. The burger place was an order and pick up style with no place to eat inside except a long diner style bar with barstools facing the window. Zane and I sat and I explained that sometimes God will specifically place on my heart to speak to someone, but this time He didn’t. Zane asked if I would show him how to use these witness cards that I carry in my purse. They are just a small set of 16 pictures that are good visuals when explaining the gospel and witnessing to someone. I started going through them  out loud. As I get a quarter way through them, Zane says he understands and I can stop. However, I realize that as I am speaking the full gospel my voice is carrying as an echo off the long window at the diner bar. I don’t stop, I get a little louder. The burger place was full of about 12 people waiting and at least half of them were sitting on barstools and could hear the entire Gospel of salvation. God had given us a captive audience. By asking Him and obeying what He said, He made a way greater than my small understanding could come up with. Even the no was a yes. Please pray for all of those seeds planted to be watered and the many more not mentioned here.

We think it's possible that some might perceive that we are stuck. However, every delay comes from our God and his perfect timing. We can see his handiwork in the beauty of the state park that we're in and we can see his handiwork in the ordained meetings that we have. The kingdom of God is at hand and come near. In Him is life and breath and everything.

[nimmy22]

A Mistake: Chapter 5

"Our encounters will only end once I say so. Now, answer this. Why were you limping?" Wesker watched through his shades as she flinched when his hand came to rest on her injured leg. He found this development displeasing. Someone trespassed on his right to be the only one to hurt her, to use her, to kill her. And correction was in order.

"What's it to you?" Cara hissed, slapping his hand away.

"Wrong answer dearheart, let's try again." His hand found her leg once more, and this time he gave a not-so-gentle squeeze. He flashed his pearly whites with a smirk, watching her grimace and suck a sharp breath. "Why were you limping?"

"I fell... down some s-stairs and hurt my...leg," she cried, looking away from him.

Wanting things over quickly, she hoped he would lose interest and leave her be. Why would he even care if someone laid a hand on her? Especially when he was still wavering between hot and cold on whether to kill her or not. If someone killed her, then Wesker should consider it a time well saved. She was beyond confused by this.

"Fell? Are you sure?" Wesker frowned, removing his shades. Cara had no idea why he even wore them while presenting...indoors. They seemed to be a permanent fixture on his face, but at least he took them off in the rain. She mentally kicked herself for spending a second analyzing the fashion sense of a corrupt officer. It will certainly not prolong her life.

Wesker suddenly drifted closer to her face with scrutinizing eyes. "I suppose you also hit your head in the fall?" He said before putting pressure over the bruise on her head. The more she struggled to turn her head, the harder he applied the pressure. She cursed her cheap foundation for having melted off within so little time, likely exposing her bruise. The humid weather wasn't helping her situation either, aiding the cream to melt off her skin.

"Stop it! It hurts. Please, I answered your question. what do you want now?"

Not many dared to bluntly lie to Wesker, and those who did were now entertaining earthly maggots as a free buffet. The little girl lied to him without shame, leaving him with the urge to loosen his collar as his blood began to simmer. He had to restrain himself, not wanting to smash.... his shades.

"Do you take me for a fool? You forget you're still dealing with a cop, and I can certainly tell the difference between physical violence and injuries from a fall. I've dealt with countless domestic violence and child abuse cases. Now, answer the question before I rip off those pants to confirm." Wesker growled, punching the garbage bin centimeters from her head. She squeaked like a mouse, shielding her head with her arms, folding into a fetal position. Peeking through her fingers, Cara spotted the dent he left in the metal and audibly swallowed. He could crush her skull if he wanted to and why he has yet to do so is beyond her.

"Ok fine! It was...my...dad, h-he...hit me. Happy now? But whose parents don't bring out the belt every now and then? It's not that big of a deal." Cara slanted her body away from him and fidgeted with her sleeve. Until this point, she had never admitted to anyone what went on at home behind closed doors. Not even her closest friend knew a thing. But she was forced to disclose one of her deepest secrets to this bastard just because he asked her nicely.

"I see." Wesker stood up, pondering something for a moment before walking back towards the school doors. Pausing by the door, he spoke without looking at her. "Clean yourself up and go back to the assembly. Then after that, I want you to walk across the street to the laundromat's parking lot. You will wait there for me."

"Why?" Cara swallowed, a cold feeling creeping over her like a heavy blanket. Wesker didn't answer, as he was already gone, and she was met with the sound of doors slamming shut. With a sigh, she wiped her tear-streaked cheeks with her clammy hands.

Raising to her wobbly feet, Cara straightened out her clothes, doing her best to clear the dust. There was no way to reduce the puffy eyes. She decided to play it off as being devastated for the poor boy who ended up an overcooked steak.

She was definitely in over her head, but without a choice, she was forced to do what he wanted. He already knew pretty much everything about her, her home, school, and family issues.

--------------

"You sure you don't want a ride home?" Claire said, hugging her friend tightly and being a major cause for much discomfort. She somehow managed to touch all Cara's painful bruises all at once, completely unaware. The two stood in the school parking lot, finished with school for the day.

"I'm fine, Claire, really. I just had a weak moment. Don't worry about me. I just need to have a little walk with some thinking time."

"I can come with,"

"No!" Cara jerked back before realizing what she did. Claire blinked, staring at her friend with her mouth open. "Oh shit, sorry. I mean...I want to...be alone for a while. You should go annoy your brother at work. He'll appreciate that."

"Are you ok? You're acting weird, not just today but this whole week. What's going on?" Cara felt more beads of sweat forming on her forehead with each question Claire asked. She needed to get away before she said something she shouldn't have.

"I'm fine, I swear. You're just reading too much into things." Cara said, backing away from her friend.

"Cara!" Claire called out, watching Cara hurry across the street. "What the heck is going on," she wondered aloud.

Claire was about to follow her when a hand roughly grabbed her shoulder. She spun around, ready to snap the fingers of the fool who dared grab her in such a manner.

"Miss Redfield, great seeing you." Wesker greeted her, his grip on her shoulder unmoving. Her eyes widened as she recognized the fool being her brother's boss.

"Oh...Captain Wesker. Um...Great presentation." Claire said, trying to shrug out of his hold. He let go, but very slowly. She didn't know why he was interacting with her this long. The most she ever got from Wesker was a nod or asking where Chris went after abandoning his desk for half an hour when he should've been doing paperwork. The answer was tacos she made herself and brought to the station for Chris.

"Thank you. I'm just hoping at least a few students will hold onto my words." Wesker responded, discreetly watching through his shades as Cara disappear from view. He simply couldn't have a foolish Redfield ruining his plans. "So where are you headed off to?"

"Uh... I was just about to head home," she said, pointing her thumb over to her motorcycle.

"Drive home safely. Wouldn't want your brother distracted on the job now, would we?" They both knew Chris would get distracted regardless, but she didn't like his tone when talking about her brother.

"No, of course not," Claire gave him a sweet smile, flapping him the bird behind her back. "Have a nice day, Captain Wesker."

"You as well, Miss Redfield." Wesker walked away, heading across the parking lot to his cruiser before driving off.

With a long sigh, Claire looked back to the direction her friend had run off to, but she was already long gone. Claire groaned, promising herself that she was not about to let this go. She owed Cara to be a good friend and help her sort out whatever she was going through. The next time she saw Cara, they were going to have a very good talk.

-----------------

Cara stood in the parking lot of the laundromat, fidgeting with the zipper of her jacket. The little piece of metal was already bent in two places from her abuse. She was alone, the place had closed down months ago, its owner was an elderly lady who passed away. She had no children to inherit it, and so the place had to shut its doors. It would make sense why Wesker would want to pick her up here. Students had no reason to crowd this property, having a plaza on the other side of the road abundant in fast-food joints and an arcade.

The temperature hadn't changed drastically since the morning. Yet, she found herself shivering in her jacket and hugging it closer to her body. Her eyes kept darting about, dreading the imminent interaction. She hated the waiting, but she didn't want to find out what he had in store for her.

Wesker drove into the parking lot, eyes zeroed in on the pitiful creature shivering alone and looking misplaced. Good thing he was here to 'help her out.' He thoroughly enjoyed how she nearly bolted upon spotting the car. He stopped next to her and waited.

Cara waited for him to emerge from the car or to roll down a window to tell her what he wanted. He did neither of those things, and so she shut her eyes for a moment before taking a deep breath and reaching for the door handle of the passenger seat. Still saying nothing, she slid into the seat before shutting the door as hard as she could. Between them, the air freshener swung back and forth with greater momentum charged by the thick atmosphere.

"So nice of you to find the time for me, dearheart. I am flattered."

"Of course, With whom else could I see myself spending time?" she didn't bother asking where they were headed, knowing how far questions seemed to set her back with him.

They pulled up to a simplistic two-story home, its lawn cleanly kempt but lacking any other colorful vegetation. She couldn't help but think it was the end of the road for her when the garage door sealed shut behind them.

Leaving the car, he walked into the house, depositing his keys on a bowl by the door. Cara followed close behind but far enough to dodge an attack, or so she hoped. Walking by the deposited keys, her fingers itched to grab them, make a run for it, but her brain didn't feel like making the deadly mistake so soon into the day or... week. Biting her bottom lip, she followed him into the living room.

Like the outside of the house, the inside lacked color, instead opting for white and shades grey. All in all, it looked like the kind of place that will get very messy if someone were to get murdered in it. But that didn't put her at ease. She still had no idea what he wanted.

Cara's fingers were inches from touching a plain white vase when Wesker finally spoke. "Welcome to my home."

She snatched her hand back so fast, her shoulder almost popped out of its socket. She opened her mouth several times, but nothing came out.

"You...live here?" Finally, she managed to form a few words.

"I do not like repeating myself, but yes, I live here. Stay here. I will be back." Wesker left Cara in the living room, making his way upstairs. Passing several doors, he came across one that streamed a golden light from beneath. Knocking three times, pausing, and then twice more, he waited for the response. He smiled, hearing the sound of four subsequent knocks and a scratching sound. This was their code, a living memory of his army days.

The door opened and smiling up at him was Sherry. He accepted her into his open arms before picking her up. "Your back, uncle Albert."

"Yes, and I brought you a really nice present."

"What is it! ...a puppy?"

"No, try again."

"Is it a dinosaur? A game? A dress? A book? Is it edible?" Sherry filled her bubble with guesses, eyes twinkling. She rubbed her hands together as if the friction could make the surprise appear faster. She had been alone all day and bored out of her mind.

Wesker shook his head at her simple thinking but enjoyed her expressions.

Walking into the living room, Wesker felt Sherry's gasp shake her whole body. "Cara!" the little girl squeaked before jumping out of the older man's grasp. She raced to her babysitter, unable to believe her eyes.

Cara's expression transformed from a scowl to a tender smile upon noticing Sherry, eyes brimming with tears.

The little girl snuggled against Cara, relishing the comforting scent of her friend. Truly, she thought she was in heaven. "Thank you, Uncle Albert! This the greatest surprise ever!" Sherry beamed at her uncle, half her face smushed against Cara's chest.

"And it gets even better. Cara agreed to come play with us every day right after school." Wesker burst Cara's bubble with a rusted pin, killing all hope of escape.

Cara's smile immediately fell. She shot daggers at the older man who merely took a seat on the couch, legs spread wide apart as he rested his arms over the back of the couch.

"Really? I can't believe it! I am so happy. We can do so many things, Cara, not just on Friday nights."

"Y-you can't-" Cara stuttered, struggling against herself to end the happiness of a little girl. To Cara, disappointing Sherry was a terrifying thing, especially if she the very cause of it.

"Why don't you take her to play in your room?" Sherry was already leading Cara before the dirty cop finished his sentence.

"Wait, Sherry. You go on up, and I will um...come to play in a few minutes. I just need to talk to...Uncle Albert for a sec." Cara spat his name.

"Ok!" Sherry said, bouncing on her feet, and ran upstairs. Once the little girl's giggles grew distant, she turned to Wesker who was already watching her with the eyes of a lazy predator. His shades sat in front of him on the coffee table, neatly folded.

Cara couldn't help the tingling shiver as he watched her. She gathered her courage and stood up straight, forcing her nerves down before speaking, "What if I don't want to continue the job?"

Wesker laughed at the ridiculous proposal.

"And break the poor girl's heart? She has consistently asked for you every day, more so than for her own parents. Where is Cara? Is she ok? Can I visit her?"

"Stop using her against me! I don't want to get involved more than I already have with you."

"Sherry experienced horrible things that night, all because of who her parents are. So, if she wants her delicious babysitter back, then she will have her back. Simple." Wesker knew which buttons to press to get her to do exactly what he wanted. The fear factor wasn't everything, and it wouldn't last long. He knew she loved his niece like a little sister, and he will use that to secure a tight collar over her neck.

'A delicious babysitter.' For some reason, these words stood out to Cara, and she found herself unable to formulate a coherent sentence, feeling the temperature of the room rise rapidly.

"But why does it have to be here? In your house?"

"As much as I support my dear friend William, he can be a little too preoccupied with his work and often becomes disengaged from the outside world. He forgot to call anyone to fix the damages, and so the house has yet to be repaired. Until it's ready, Sherry will stay here, that is unless she chooses to stay indefinitely, which I don't mind at all. It's always too quiet around here."

Seeing no way out of this, Cara begrudgingly walked upstairs, defeat weighing down her steps. Her mood brightened a little while playing with Sherry, but she couldn't put her whole heart into it. Her choice was taken away, and she couldn't live with that. But in the end, she had to be grateful as this was still better than being murdered and stuffed into a dumpster or buried alive.

For now, she will do her best to make Sherry happy. The little girl has been through a lot already.

----------------

Hours later, Cara stood in front of the sink, swirling the cool water in her glass before gulping it down. She was halfway through the water when she felt something warm, soft, and feather-like touch the back of her neck. She spun around to see Wesker walking away, the faintest hint of a smirk on his lips. She barely registered the icy water spilling on her clothes as she realized what happened. Her stomach weaved knots, pulling them too tight to undo.

Wesker had kissed her neck. And then he just walked away as if nothing happened. This had to be the strangest trick her mind could play on her. Or was it? There was simply no way a man like him will ever be interested in her. Never.

It felt like a terrible joke, and yet, she found her hand touching her neck, a rosy blush making its way.

[noladyme]

Skip To My Lou, My Darling - Chapter 4, Hunted Hunter II

The road so far…

3 years after having said goodbye to him, Dean Winchester drops back into Lulu’s life – leviathans hot at both the Winchesters and Lulu’s heels. She skips town with the brothers, narrowly avoiding being eaten by a creature none of them know how to kill yet; and must now face her feelings for the eldest brother – feelings she does not completely trust.

Our story continues in season 7

Tag list (Let me know if you want to be added) @edonaspanca​ @wonderlandfandomkingdom​

II

We made it to a motel outside Seward, and checked in to a room with twin beds and a pull-out couch. The woman at the reception gave me a hard look, as if she was seriously judging my life choices. As it was, I was questioning them myself.

Having taken small roads, it was well past time for lunch, and Dean’s eyes lit up when he noticed a combined bar and restaurant across the street from the motel. Inside, a young waitress pulled her shoulders back to perk out her chest, when she saw Sam and Dean enter. Clearly not having counted on me being with them, she almost seemed surprised when I followed them all to a booth in a corner; sitting myself beside Sam, with Dean across from us. Giving me a dissatisfied look; she quickly turned on a sweet smile, and pulled out a pad. “What can I get you guys?”, she asked. “What’s the biggest burger you have?”, Dean smiled. “That’d be our XXL-Whomper”, the waitress said. “Give me that with fries. And a beer. Whatever you have on tap”, he winked at her. She seemed enthralled by his gesture, and I didn’t blame her.

After taking Sam’s order of a salad and a diet coke, the girl turned to me. “And the lady?”, she said; her smile not reaching her eyes. “Cheeseburger and jalapeño poppers. Ranch on the side”, I muttered. “To drink?”. I considered ordering a row of shots, but halted myself. “Bud… or whatever you have”. “Coming right up”, the waitress smiled at Dean.

I looked towards the bar, where a tired looking tender was taking orders from truckers. “Considering a dance?”, Dean smirked. “Seriously, I could give you boost, and get you right up there”. “Maybe later”, I grumbled. I shifted in my seat. “I need clothes”. Dean shrugged. “You’re dressed”, he said, and looked over my outfit, consisting of my least favorite jeans – they were too tight – and t-shirt, under my jacket. “I didn’t exactly bring a spare set of underwear, when you kidnapped me”, I said. “And I don’t have any money either, so I’m thinking that laundromat we passed might be my next stop. Must be something I can snatch up”.

The waitress sauntered back towards us with our drinks; swaying her hips as much as possible. She set down the drink; leaning forward to give Dean full view of her assets – ignoring Sam and me completely. I supposed this was because we sat next to each other, and she thought Dean was available. Which he is, I reminded myself.

“You can’t go alone. And you don’t need to steal”, Sam said quietly, as the waitress walked away. “We have cash”, Dean said, and took a sip of his beer. I shook my head. “I can’t take your money”, I muttered. Dean smirked, and pushed a black purse across the table. “I snatched the other me’s wallet, while you were busy grabbing your jacket”, he said. “He won’t miss it”. I frowned. “Is he dead? The guy he’s possessing, that looks like you?”. Sam shook his head. “They don’t possess people, they become them… sort of”. “And they don’t die easily… We haven’t figured out how to gank them yet”.

I raised my brows into a worried expression. “That sounds disconcerting”, I said. Sam smiled at me. “We just have to steer clear of them for now”, he said. Dean reached out and took my hand. “You’re gonna be fine, Lou”. I snatched my hand back, a bit more abruptly than I had planned. Dean narrowed his eyes for a second. “I’ll check out the second-hand store down the street, then”, I said. “And the Walmart. I’m not wearing other people’s underwear”. Sam chuckled.

“How did you guys know to come get me?”, I asked, and took a sip from my beer. “We know a guy with a computer”, Dean smirked. “Apparently Sammy decided to ask him to keep track of you”. I shook my head. “No, that was Bobby”. Dean narrowed his eyes at me. “Huh… Well, he must have kept it up after Bobby died, because he called us. Said there were irregularities on your accounts. Like they had been logged into from a different computer, than the one you’d usually use”. I frowned. “That’s enough to have you kick down my door?”, I muttered. Sam shrugged. “These days, yeah. The leviathans have been tracking all our fake cards and movements”. “It’s why we’re stuck driving that suburban-mom nightmare out there”, Dean grunted with distaste in his voice. “I miss my baby…”. Sam rolled his eyes. “We figured they’d be coming for you as soon as they could find you. Maybe change into you, and get to us like that”.

“So, what happens now?”, I asked. “You’re still working a case. Ghosts don’t quit because leviathans decide to go on a rampage”. “We set you up in the motel; and then Sam and me go talk to the widow of the electrocuted guy”. Sam clenched his jaw. “We should probably take Lulu with us”, he muttered. “As long as we don’t know if they’re still on her trail, she’s safer around us”. Dean looked at his brother incredulously. “Hunting? No”, he said; and looked up at the waitress who was returning with our order. “Thank you”, he smiled at her; making the girl blush.

Once she was gone, Sam leaned in over the table. “It’s not hunting. It’s… groundwork”, he said quietly. “When was the last time groundwork turned out to just be groundwork for us, Sammy?”, Dean grunted. “It’s never safe out there”. “You think I’ll be better of in a motel room, on my own?”, I muttered. Dean smiled at me. “You have that .45 and your angel sword. That wallet I gave you has quarters for the magic-fingers. Knock yourself out!”. He took a big bite of his burger.

---

Two hours later we pulled up at a generic looking house, with a white picket fence. In the back of the car stood a bag of fresh clothes for me – but at the moment, I was wearing a black t-shirt, slacks and a grey blazer.

“This is so stupid, Sam. She should not be here!”, Dean grumbled. “She can hear you; and she’d prefer it if you didn’t treat her like a child”, I sneered. He turned and looked at me; his eyes ablaze, and the red stripes on his tie matching the redness of his flushed cheeks. “You, stay in the car”, he said menacingly. “Nope”, I smiled. He cursed below his breath, and got out of the car; Sam following him, after having given me an apologetic look.

I tried to open my own door, but couldn’t. “Child safety lock”, Dean called; before slamming his door shut. “Oh, come on!”, I yelled angrily. Dean waved at me, and walked up the small path to the house.

I rolled down my window, and put my arm out of it; opening the car from the outside. When he heard the door slam, Dean turned around, and gave me a frustrated look. Sam simply stifled a grin. “Shut it”, Dean grunted; as I joined them in front of the door.

Sam rang the doorbell, and a slight mousy looking woman opened the door. “Yes?”, she said. “Mrs. Harper?”, Dean said. “My name is Mick Green; and this is my partner – Doug Sandom. We’re with the insurance company”. The woman frowned. “I already talked to you people earlier this week”, she muttered, and began to close the door. “Ma’am, this is just to cross the t’s and dot the i’s”, Sam said; going full puppy dog in his expression.

The woman looked towards me. Dean clenched his jaw. “This is our… trainee…”, he muttered. “Joan Larkin, ma’am. I’m so sorry for your loss”. I stretched out my hand to shake hers. “Please, we’ll only take a moment of your time”. I smiled softly at her. She looked tired and sad, and I felt sorry for her. She stepped aside. “Please, come in”.

After some preliminary pleasantries, Mrs. Harper went into the kitchen for some drinks. “She has hair”, I whispered smilingly, from my seat between the brothers. Dean rolled his eyes.

Once the woman was seated in front of us, Sam smiled comfortingly at her. “I understand this is a difficult time, ma’am. We just need to clear up some things”. “Then – after – will you pay out his life insurance?”, Mrs. Harper asked. Dean smiled. “We’ll try to get things in motion”, he lied.

“Now, your husband died in the bathtub, as I understand?”, Sam said. The widow nodded. “It was the weirdest thing. One moment I’m grabbing him a towel in the hallway, and the next, he’s screaming bloody murder… and then everything smelled like boiled ham”. I winced for a second. Dean looked at me, and cleared his throat. “And… there was a toaster in the water?” Mrs. Harper nodded.

I looked over the room. There were numerous pictures of the woman herself alongside a burly looking man with a receding hairline. The widow took a handkerchief from her pocket, and patted her tear stained cheeks. “I know what this looks like. The police came by, and even they thought…”. Sam took a deep breath. “Ma’am, it’s not our place to judge; but were you and your husband having any issues? You mentioned your life insurance”, he asked softly. Mrs. Harpers eyes widened. “No! Not like that. We needed money, but I would never…”, the woman sobbed. “Rob was my world”. She blew her nose fiercely.

“Have you noticed anything weird around the house?”, Dean asked; his voice dark. “Any… cold spots?”. Mrs. Harper frowned. “Why would there be cold spots?”. Dean seemed surprised by the question. “Well, I…”. “It’s a normal insurance question, ma’am”, I intruded. “Cold spots may indicate electrical issues in the walls”. The woman’s eyes widened. “Really?”, she gasped. “Yeah, really?”, Dean muttered. I stepped on his foot. The woman looked around her, and shrugged. “I-i don’t think so”, she said.

“May I use your facilities, Mrs. Harper?”, Sam smiled. The woman shrugged. “There’s only the one upstairs; where Rob…”. She sighed. “Go ahead”. Dean downed his glass of water. “Do you mind?”, he smiled, handing Mrs. Harper the glass. “It’s been a long drive”. She nodded, and went into the kitchen, leaving Dean and me alone in the room.

“You, don’t talk!”, he hissed at me. I made a huffing sound. “I saved your ass. Just like when you were in Yankton”. He looked straight into my eyes menacingly. “Just, keep your mouth closed”, he muttered. I narrowed my eyes at him, and smirked. “Then, give it something better to do”, I whispered.

I only realized what I’d said, when Deans eyes widened, and his lips parted. “I’ll go wait in the car”, I croaked, and left the house as swiftly as I could.

I leant against the car, and took a deep breath. I hadn’t meant to say what I had – or maybe I had. Dean had talked about choosing to be together or not; but I didn’t know if he meant it, or felt compelled to mean it.

A few moments later, the brothers joined me outside; Sam looking questioningly at my flushed face. “You ok?”, he muttered. “I’m fine”, I whispered. Dean looked everywhere but at me. “Lulu…”, Sam began. “She said she’s fine. Let’s go”, Dean grumbled.

---

Back at the motel, I grabbed some clean clothes; and sprang for the bathroom – getting into the shower. I turned on the cold water, and let it flow over my body, as I took deep breaths to calm myself. I felt so embarrassed.

When I met Dean, I was a kid, just out of college; working my first adult job. Even as I had stood in front of him then, I’d felt a deep connection – one that seemed important, and older than time. Two years later, when he’d informed me that angels had put us together – and not true emotion – I’d been destroyed. I’d even decided that I didn’t care; that I wanted him in my life. But he’d made it clear the he believed what we had wasn’t real – and we shouldn’t be together. And I’d moved on – at least I’d told myself that I had. Now he was in my life again, not only as my protector; but also with the door to his heart ajar – as if he wanted me to step inside again.

But I didn’t know if I wanted him. Not truly anyway. Because if it wasn’t real, what was the point? But then, why did I flirt with him?, I asked myself. And in such a juvenile way?. I put my hands against the wall, leaning my forehead to the cold tile.

There was a knock on the door. “Lou, don’t use up all the hot water”, Dean grunted from the other side. “Taking a cold shower”, I called back. Crap! Shut up!, I told myself. “Sounds… refreshing. Sam’s grabbing dinner”. “Ok. I’ll be right out”, I croaked.

I got dressed in clean underwear, a tank top, and a pair of comfortable sweatpants; which made me look frumpy enough to be comfortable with being in a room with Dean alone. I stepped outside, and began drying my hair with a towel.

“Sorry I was riding you so hard”, Dean said quietly. I forced myself not to think up any jokes about riding. “I get it”, I muttered. “You’re the professionals”. I added the s to make the sentence about both of them, and not just him. He nodded. “Yeah… You did good though”. “I didn’t say a lot”, I whispered. “No, but you did get me out of a tricky question”, he admitted. “Caught me off guard, is all”. “Sorry”, I said.

He sat down next to me: “I’m trying to say thank you”, he muttered. “Welcome”, I whispered. “When is Sam back?”. Dean shrugged disinterestedly. “He went for Chinese. Hope that’s ok”. “It’s fine”, I said, and stood up to hang the towel over a chair.

I heard him stand up behind me. “Lou… are you uncomfortable being alone with me?”, Dean breathed. I didn’t know what to say; but turned half way around, and looked at him from the corner of my eye. “I’m not gonna… do anything”, he said. “Unless you want me to”, he added with a nervous smirk.

I sighed. “Look… What you said back on that road… It was just a lot”, I said. “I know”, he muttered. “But I meant it. I need you to know that”. “Dean… I don’t know what to do with that information”, I responded. “You told me what we had wasn’t real. And I didn’t care… for the longest time, I just didn’t care. Even after Pete…”. His expression grew sad. “But?”. I chewed my lip. “You didn’t come back for me. And I didn’t really have any way to get into contact with you. Bobby wasn’t exactly forthcoming with your whereabouts while you were with… Lisa”. He looked down. “She and Ben… they picked me up from the ground. Helped me regain sanity again”, he said. “But they were never mine. And I wasn’t theirs”.

Our eyes met, and his lips parted. I wanted to run into his arms – and I wanted to run out of the door. “Because of me…”, I whispered. “Yeah… because of you”. I took in a stuttering breath. “Because I was made for you. Forced upon you”. He shook his head in frustration. “No, Lou…”. “That’s what you said”, I breathed. “The perfect mate, right? All I need to do now, is wait for Michael to gain entry; and then get to the business of popping out a few Nephilim, isn’t that it?”. “What’s a Nephilim?”, Dean grunted. I shook my head. “Read a book”, I muttered.

Dean clenched his jaw, and put his hands on the back of one of the chairs, leaning against it. His whole body was tense; and everything inside me screamed for me to take him in my arms, and comfort him. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. I know you’d never say yes”. He shook his head. “It’s fine… It’s in the past”.

He ran his thumb over his lower lip, and chuckled to himself. “If someone had told me a year ago, I’d be alone in a room with you like this, I would have slapped them silly…”. “Why?”, I half smiled. He took a step towards me. “Because I wanted to forget you”, he said; letting go of the chair. “Up until Fate”. “When you found out you still had free will”, I whispered. “And what do you want to do with it?”.

He looked at me with warm eyes. They spoke of us, together. “Oh…”, I muttered. “You don’t…”, he said grimly, and looked down again. “I don’t know what I want. I’m… confused”, I admitted. “I want something real… Even if I choose you; is it really a choice? If I was made to feel the things I do?”. He nodded. “I get it… It’s was I was thinking back then”, he said. “But you do feel it… don’t you?”. “Yes…”, I whispered. “I just wish I believed it was real”.

He stepped over to me, and placed his hand on my cheek. I leant into it, and closed my eyes as his thumbs gently stroked my temple. I put my hand on his chest, and he leaned his forehead to mine. “Please believe”, he whispered through slightly parted lips. I tilted my head slightly upwards, and felt his warm breath against my face, just before his lips brushed mine. I drew in a short breath, and closed my eyes as we pressed our lips together; as in quiet understanding, that this was the time.

Deans arm snaked around my waist, and he pulled me close, and I felt him smile against my lips. I screamed at myself to accept it. Accept that what was happening between us was real emotion – true feelings – but his words from years before still rang in my head. It’s too perfect… You’re like made for me…

I pulled back. “I’m sorry”, I whispered. “I can’t”. He instantly stepped away from me, giving me space. “I’m so sorry”, I croaked.

Sam stepped through the door with a large paper bag. “Hey. Got food”, he smiled. I slid on my boots, and grabbed my coat. “I need some air”, I muttered, and walked out the door, closing it behind me.

---

I walked down the road; avoiding the streetlights as if they were spotlights searching for me. “Cass… if you’re out there… Please help me. I need to know the truth”, I whimpered to myself. As I’d expected, no angel came to my rescue. I was alone – and by choice.

My phone rang in my pocket. I looked at the screen, before picking up the call. “Pete…”, I croaked. “Hey, Lulu… You sound sad”, he said. “What’s wrong?”. “I’m… I don’t know. I miss…”. I didn’t know what to say. Bobby. Castiel. Dean. “I know, I miss you too”, Pete breathed. “Where are you?”. “Nebraska”, I said. “I didn’t know you had family in Nebraska?”, he said. “I don’t have…”, I began. “A lot of family, I know”, Pete said. “You don’t really have any family; do you…? You’re all alone in the world”. I shook my head, and stopped just before a ring of light under a street lamp. “What are you talking about?”, I said. “Who really cares about you, Lou?”. His voice became deeper – more gravely. It was Deans voice now. “No one really loves you. Not with their own free will, anyway…”. My breath hitched. “Who is this?”, I asked. “Someone who knows the truth… Your purpose in life. To belong to someone else… not truly your own. Do you think he would choose you if he wasn’t compelled to?”. “I-i don’t…”, I whimpered; tears beginning to stream down my cheeks. “Are you crying…? Of course, you are. It’s hard hearing the truth. I know what he really feels. He wishes he didn’t want you. He knows he’d never care if he wasn’t forced to”. “Why are you saying these things?”, I croaked. “To keep you on the line, so we can track your phone…”.

I hung up, and threw my phone down on the road; stomping on it until it broke into pieces.

I ran back towards the motel; seeing the station wagon driving towards me. It halted a few yards from me, and Sam sprang out of the driver’s seat. “Lulu!”, he yelled. “You can’t run off like that. It’s not safe…”. “They tracked my phone. They’re coming for us!”, I yelled, and threw myself into the passenger’s seat. Sam sprang in after me, and drove back to the motel.

Inside the room, Dean was seated on one of the beds, drinking from a bottle of beer. When he saw me, his eyes instantly diverted. “Pack up. They tracked us”, Sam growled. Dean jumped up from the bed, and grabbed his things. I snatched my new second hand backpack – filled with my new and old clothes – and all three of us ran out the door.

“Call Garth. Have him take over the case here”, Dean growled. “We go west”. “Where?”, Sam asked, as we were all seated in the car. Dean started the engine. “San Francisco”, he grunted; sending me a look in the mirror. It was just a second, but his eyes spoke a thousand words; some of which I knew where I’m sorry. You’ll never have to see me again. He sped down the road, and out of town.

I closed my eyes, and sighed. “Just get me to a bus station”, I said. Sam turned to look at me. “Lulu, no! We can’t do that”, he retorted. “I’ll be fine. Stay out of sight… I know the deal”, I grunted. Sam shook his head. “Look, we’ll find somewhere else. Go on lockdown…”. “They’re using me to get to you!”, I yelled. “I’m no safer with you than anywhere else; but you’re in more danger if I stick around”. “Lulu…”, Sam began.

“She’s right, Sammy”, Dean said calmly; eyes still on the road. “We’ll take you as far as Iowa. Get out of the state; and find a bus station”. Sam looked at his brother incredulously. “And then she just goes to San Francisco?”, Sam asked. “No”, I muttered. “I can’t put that on Raul… Not now”. Sam looked back at me. “Where, then?”, he growled. “Better if you don’t know. I’m a weakness”, I said. “You’re protecting me because you think you have to”. Dean looked at me again in the mirror. This time his expression read as disagreeing, but he didn’t say anything.

Sam grimaced in frustration. “I’ll call Frank. Have him wire some money”. He grabbed a map from the glove compartment. “Rock Port. We’ll take you there”, he grunted.

---

Five hours later I was standing in a bus station in Iowa; my backpack at my feet, and my head full of all the information the Winchesters could give me on leviathans. Sam handed we a wad of cash, a map; and a credit card in the name of Keith Moon. “Only use it in emergencies. They tracked most of our cards”. He pulled me into his arms, and held on to me tightly. “And this…”. He pulled a flip phone from his pocket. “There’s only one number on there. Jody Mills”. “The sheriff?”, I asked. “She knows how to get a hold of us if needed”, Sam muttered, and gave me the phone. “And remember what I told you about Borax”. “I’ll be fine”, I lied. He pulled me in for another hug; and I buried my face in his shoulder – having to stand on my toes to reach it. “Thanks”, I whispered, and pulled away from him.

Dean was stood a few paces away; looking at us. Sam wiped away a tear I hadn’t known was there; and I realized I was crying as well. Sam walked back towards the station wagon, and Dean came over to me.

“I’m sorry”, he said earnestly. “Seems all I do is steamroll into your life, and turn it upside down”. “My life in Kansas City wasn’t exactly picture perfect”, I replied. “And you had to, right?”. He shook his head. “I don’t care if I did…”, he breathed. “But you do… And I get it. Maybe some day you’ll…”. He let out a deep breath. “Just be happy, ok?”, he said. I tried for a smile, but it turned into saddened frown. “You too…”, I croaked. “I really wish…”. “I know”, Dean whispered.

I took his hand, and put it to my cheek. “If this was real, I’d kiss you right now”, I breathed, and looked into his warm eyes. He raised a brow at me. “If you’d just believe this was real, I’d have you naked in the nearest motel room”, he smirked. I glared at him. “Sorry…”, he smiled more softly.

“I’m gonna miss you, Fred”, I smiled. “Goodbye, Velma”, he replied. I leant in and kissed his cheek; when his arms folded around me, and he leant in to whisper into my ear. “Save a dance for me, Lou… I’ll lie awake”. He kissed my temple, and let go of me; walking away.

---

I went east for a while, moving towards Chicago; and leaving a trail of credit card receipts. At a diner outside Des Moines, the tv showed a news report about grave robberies in Seward, Nebraska. An insurance agent from the 60’s had been dug up, and for some strange reason, his bones had been burnt. Whoever Garth was, he wasn’t very good at covering his tracks.

On a bus towards Cedar Rapids, I noticed a car trailing behind; taking the same stops and turns as the bus. As I’d planned, they’d tracked me. At the next stop, I dropped the credit card in the lap of a guy who looked like he’d probably use a stolen card. I ran for the station’s bathroom, and hid out for a while; before going back outside, and hitching a ride south.

Nowhere, Oklahoma. The name sprang into my eyes as I looked over the map my giant of a friend had given me. It was tiny. Perfect. I’d needed to disappear, and what place better than a place where the name was literally an answer to where I was. Where is she? You’ll find her Nowhere.

I had to take several busses, and hitched another ride with a creepy looking trucker, who ditched me on the side of the road, when I wouldn’t put out. In the end, I made it to Nowhere. In my backpack I had my clothes, a bottle of ready mixed Borax, a toothbrush; and some drugstore makeup and hair dye.

With no motel in the town, I searched out the nearest bar. The eager looking bartender greeted me cheerfully. I asked about work in the area, and he instantly offered me a job as a waitress – his former one having skipped town the week before. “You don’t need experience. Just don’t trip over your own feey when you serve the beers”, my new boss had smiled. There was a small room above the bar; and I accepted a pay cut to be able to stay there.

I lined the windowsill and the bottom of the door with salt, and stuck my gun into the back of my jeans – before grabbing an apron, and getting to work.

---

3 months later.

The stretch of road in front of them looks like every other they travel. At least he’s back in his baby; who is purring beautifully from under the hood. His brother is there next to him, as usual – their relationship somewhat good at the moment. Having the angel reappear in their lives was a surprise; one that he’s not sure how to feel about yet; but he’s at least happy he’s alive. Counting out the Dick made of black goo; things would be all right, if something wasn’t missing.

There is a hole inside him – one that only one person has been able to fill – and she’s gone.

Sam’s phone rings, and he picks it up. “Yeah… Jody? Give me a sec…”. He presses a button. “You’re on speaker”. “Hey guys… I just got a weird call from someone claiming to be your friend”, the sheriff says. He frowns, and looks at the phone. “They give you a name?”, he asks. “No, nothing. She just said to let you know there was a Borax incident in Nowhere”. “Nowhere?”, Sam asks. “Yeah. Nowhere, Oklahoma. She sounded like she was in a rush. She said; Keith Moon went to Chicago. Velma washed floors in Nowhere, when a guy’s feet started melting… Does any of this make any sense to you?”. Dean and Sam send each other a look. “Yeah, it makes sense. Thanks, Jody”, Sam says, and hangs up.

Dean clenches his fingers around the steering wheel so hard his knuckles turn white. “She wouldn’t have called if it wasn’t important”, his brother mutters. “I know”, he grunts. “How far is Nowhere?”. “Oklahoma City’s about 10 hours away, if we skip breaks for food”. He steps down harder on the pedal, and the engine roars; speeding up down the road.

8 hours later they are standing in a bar in a small town about 40 miles outside Oklahoma City. A waitress brushes up against Dean with a bright smile, as she nabs a tray of drinks from a tired looking bartender, who is answering their questions. “No, sir. No deaths or accidents around here. Unless you count me losing my favorite waitress, as an accident”, the bartender says. He looks with tired eyes at the waitress, who is now on her way to serve some patrons in a booth. She trips over her own feet, and drops the tray on the floor. “Whoopsies!”, the young woman smiles. She bends down as seductively as she can, and looks over her shoulder at Dean. If it hadn’t been for... He dismisses the thought. The last time he tried to use a one night stand to get over her, he’d ended up a baby-daddy to a monster.

The bartender rolls his eyes. “Good help is hard to find”. He frowns at the man. “She go missing?”, he asks. The bartender shrugs in response. “I think she just skipped town with some guy…”.

Sam clears his throat in that worried way he does, when he thinks something is terribly wrong. Dean can’t help but feel the same way. “What makes you think she skipped town?”, Sam asks. “Well, she was a good enough girl, but she never seemed really happy here; you know?”, the bartender says. “Three days ago, she was helping me close up – washing the floors – when this guy comes in, and walks over to her”. “What did he look like?”, Dean asks. “Fedora, leather jacket…”, the bartender begins. “Too tight jeans?”, Dean interrupts. The bartender nods. “I went to put away some bottles out back, and when I returned, they were both gone”.

Sam’s eyes catch something on the floor. “Excuse me; but what is that over there?”, he asks; and points towards two foot-shaped markings on the floor. The bartender shrugs. “I have no idea. It was there when she left. Looks like something melted into the floor, right? I haven’t been able to get it off”. Sam goes over to look at the markings; and pokes at them with a pen. Dean joins his brother, and instantly recognizes the goo. He swallows hard. “Try Borax”, he says over his shoulder to the bartender. The man chuckles. “That’s what Velma always used”.

Dean turns around, furrowing his brow. “That was her name?”, he asks. The bartender nods. Sam stands up, and walks back to the counter. “Where was she staying?”, he asks. “Just upstairs”, the tender responds.

They go up to a small rom with a single bed, a wardrobe and a table. “What was that thing about what the guy looked like?”, Sam asks. “What does it matter?”. Dean frowns. “He was impersonating the ex… Pete”, he responds. “You worried she’d believe it? Go with him?”, Sam says. “She’s too smart for that”, Dean grunts, with a crooked smile. “But she might have tried to fight”. The thought of this sends chills down his spine. She’s smart, knows so much – but he doesn’t think she’s strong enough for a fight like that. He knows she’s not.

They begin searching the room for any clue as to where she might have gone, or the leviathan might have taken her. “Dean…”, Sam says. He joins his brother by the bed. There are what looks like dried blood on the sheet; which has been shredded. He swallows hard. “She might be…”, Sam begins. “Don’t”, Dean says. “She’s not…”. He feels a mixture of rage and sorrow build up; just as it did when Bobby… But this is different. Bobby was a hunter. Lou… He brought this on her. They used her to get to him.

He turns around, walks over to the small wardrobe, and slams his fist into the door – the wood of it breaking from the sheer force. “We’ll find her”, Sam says quietly. “At least give her a hunter’s burial”. Dean closes his eyes, and lets out a deep breath.

“Uhm, fellas’?. The waitress is standing outside the door; holding up a phone. “Is one of you John Osbourne?”. Dean opens his eyes. “Why?”, he calls. “I got a phone call here for you. Some lady…”. She smiles sweetly at him, and bites her lip, as he nabs the phone from her. She walks down the stairs again, swaying her hips.

“Hello?”, Dean breathes. “Dean…”. He lets out a sigh of relief. Her voice still makes his heart leap, and sends warm waves of joy through him. “Lou…”. Sam’s eyes light up. What?, he mouths. “Are you ok?”, Dean asks. “I’m… yeah”. “There was blood… I thought…”. “Just a scratch. I found someone to stitch me up. Don’t worry”. He can hear the smile in her voice, reminding him of the face she’d make every time he kissed her. Except for the last time… “Where are you?”, he demands. “I can’t tell you. You know that…”. She sighs. “Dean, I left something there… I didn’t know what to do with it”. He frowns. “What?”. “In the wardrobe… There’s a box”. Dean gestures towards the broken wardrobe door, and Sam goes to open it. He grimaces in confusion, as he pulls out a cardboard box; which seems to have some weight to it.

“Don’t open it around anyone…”, she says. Dean closes the door to the hallway; and walks over to the box; which Sam has placed on the bed. Dean gently opens the lid of the box, and lets out a short breath. Sam’s expression is one of pure marvel.

“Can you… get rid of it for me?”, she asks. “How the hell did you manage this?”, Dean asks, as he looks down into the box; meeting the eyes of a fedora hat wearing head. “I picked up some tricks along the way”. This time he hears her smirk; that annoying, yet endearing expression that always sends heat straight to… Another time, another place, Dean, he thinks to himself. He clears his throat. “We’ll take care of it”, he says quietly. He closes his eyes, and sees her face in front of him. “Please tell me where you are, Lou…” “No, Dean. I’m sorry. You and me… I can’t. Not if it’s not real”.

He clenches his jaw. “What are you gonna do now?”, he asks. “You wouldn’t like the answer…”, she responds. He opens his eyes. “No, sweetheart. That’s not an option”, he grunts. “You’re way out of your league there…”. He hears her chuckle. “A few salt and burns here and there for practice”, she says. “I’ll be fine. And you can focus on the leviathans”. “Lou, no!”. Sam looks at him questioningly. He looks at his brother with hard eyes. “Kick their asses for me, ok?”. “Lou!”, Dean yells. She’s hung up.

He throws the phone on the bed in frustration. “What happened?”, Sam mutters. “Where is she?” Dean lets out a deep breath. “Lou’s on a hunting trip… and she won’t be home in a few days”.

---

[normallee]

Loads of Fun || Grace and Norma

TIMING: Current LOCATION: Sudsville Laundromat PARTIES: @silveraccent​ and @normallee​ SUMMARY: It’s laundry day and sometime the ritual of washing clothes is confusing

When Grace had arrived home, she hadn’t anticipated stepping into soap with her sock. It had taken twenty-five minutes to get the maintenance worker on the phone, and she had been supplied with a few murmurs about blood and what the man thought were butterfly wings before she successfully got a time at which he would arrive. It had been two days, and still, nobody had shown up to fix her washer. It hadn’t taken very long for her to find a laundromat, only a stone's throw away from her apartment complex. She drove, mostly because she hadn’t wanted to lose a finger from the weight of her laundry bin. It had been forty minutes now, a book turned down in her lap, legs spread out before her. The washer in front of her had gone off, and Grace sprung to her feet, unloading and reloading it into the dryer adjacent from where she had been standing. To her right, she noticed a woman loading dry clothes into the dryer just next to her. The woman seemed confident, too confident, to know that she had been doing something wrong. “Um, excuse me…” Grace said, just loud enough for the woman to hear.

Humans had so many customs and practices that Norma had never quite understood. One of them was the custom of washing clothes. The general idea made sense. Clothing became unusable and smelly so the whole washing process alleviated that issue. Norma had never had to deal with that part of the process. She would either pay someone to take care of it or cause enough commotion in a store that she could walk out with whatever she pleased. That was before the bounty. Now she must appear normal. And normal mortals did laundry. Sudsville seemed like the perfect place to learn. With her clothes in her basket, some of which were not hers but she thought they might need washing all the same, she marched in and opened a machine and started throwing clothes inside of it. “Oh hello!” she said, startled a bit by the human girl talking to her. “Nice to meet you, my name is Norma Lee,” she said, holding her hand out to shake. She was told that was how humans greeted one another, might as well get it over with. “Are you in need of any assistance?”

Grace didn’t hide the surprise that wrote itself across her features. In fact, she let it show. Was everyone this friendly here? Well, everyone aside from Regan, she guessed. Grace looked down at the hand that was extended towards her, then back up to meet the woman’s eyes. “I--” she wasn’t sure if she should shake Norma’s hand, or if she should just tell her that she had been doing her laundry incorrectly. Reaching out tentatively, Grace took a hold of her hand and gave it a firm shake. In that moment, she realized how dull Norma felt. Grace retracted her hand, and looked towards the dryer that the brunette was loading her clothes into. “Have you washed those yet? That’s the dryer.” God, she would feel like a moron if the woman was doing some reverse-cycle cleaning that she wasn’t aware of. Grace didn’t frequent the cleaning blogs suggested to her by pop-up ads. “Sorry if you’re doing something, I just… didn’t want you to waste your money or anything.” Grace offered the woman a smile before pushing the quarters into the slot to start the dryer.

“The dryer?” Norma squinted at the machine. This was already far more complicated than she had anticipated. She had no idea what a dryer was or what it did. Or why it was wrong to use it first. Perhaps this child was mistaken instead. No, no, she should listen to the small mortal. It was likely she cared more and had more need for such devices. “I haven’t washed my clothes, I just got here. Is there some specific order I should follow? Like a ritual with clothes?” A ritual sacrifice made sense. This seemed like more trouble than it was worth. Perhaps she should leave and simply buy new clothes. Certainly that was normal, correct? It wasn't possible that every human rinsed and reused their clothing. Looking at the machine, it had all kinds of symbols all over it and strange words like “fluff air” that held no meaning to her. Norma placed her hands on her hips. This was going to be quite a challenge. Human life was meant to be simple, was it not? “Can you explain this strange clothing ritual to me? This is very different than what I’m used to. I think they have rearranged, perhaps.” That was a very logical explanation. Norma was rather proud of herself for smoothing this over so nicely.

The woman spoke, and Grace fought to keep her composure. A ritual? Grace thought, looking the stranger over. Maybe she was rich, never had to wash her own clothes in her life. If only that had been her own strange disposition. “A ritual, no, an order? Yeah.” Grace smiled at her before she motioned to the washer that was behind them. “You’ll want to use that, first.” Grace moved to the washer again, opening the lid and pointed at the dial, “honestly I don’t know half of what this shit does. I throw everything in and hope nothing turns pink.” Not that she had much white or red garments to begin with, but still. Grace looked around the brunette, eyebrows pulled together. “You didn’t already put your quarters in, did you?” She hoped not, though, if she did, Grace had enough quarters to help her out. “Do you have detergent?” Grace asked as she looked for a bottle, but finding nothing. She really didn’t know what she was doing, did she?

Norma was disappointed to learn there was no ritual, though she supposed it made sense. Her understanding was this whole washing thing was meant to remove blood stains out of clothes rather than create pretty new ones. Shameful, really. Still, Noma nodded and followed the girl to the rows of washing machines. “Pink?” she asked curiously. “Why would it turn pink? That seems rather odd and specific?” Then it hit her. It was obvious. “Is it because you’re washing out too much blood from your clothes? Perhaps there’s a way to avoid that.” Norma was happily chucking the clothes, some that weren’t even hers, into the machine when the girl asked her more questions. “My quarters?” She looked down at all four major limbs. All still there. She wasn’t drawn or quartered, thankfully. “They seem to be intact. And I’m unaware of what detergent is.” This whole laundry business was more complicated than it was worth, she was sure of it.

“The dye on red clothes usually runs off on white clothes,” Grace explained. She felt like she was a kid again when her Grandmother had taught her the rules-- not that she ever followed them if she were doing her own laundry. She didn’t have a lot of multi-colored clothes to begin with. “Blood?” Grace looked at her with widened eyes, “no, not-- I mean, I guess?” Grace thought for a moment. Most of the decedents she dealt with at work were no longer bleeding when she was working with them, but she supposed they did stain. “Do you work at a butcher shop or something?” She had seen a bustling one on her way home one day and considered going in to see if they had oxtail for a soup she had been craving-- though had no patience to actually make. “Intact--” Grace stared at her for a moment, wondering if this were all a joke. Confusion swept over Grace, but she did her best to not get lost in it. “Here, you can use mine.” Grace held up her own detergent and shook the bottle. “I have some extra quarters, too,” she offered, placing her hand over her pocket to jingle the change there. “I can show you, if you want?” Grace asked, not sure if this girl had never been expected to complete her own chores, or if she had recently been let go from a hospital for amnesia.

“Oh. That seems rather impractical,” Norma replied, though she was unsure what dying had to do with the colors running. Then again, dying and red did go together. The fact that there seemed to be no link to blood based on her reaction was even further perplexing. There was nothing indicating the girl had not been talking about trying to get blood from her clothes even now. Though she supposed she would simply have to take her word for it. “A butcher shop? Oh no, not at all!” On second thought, that might be fun. She almost wished she had chosen that as her human profession. Then again, that was not half so normal as her current job. No, no, she couldn’t switch careers so soon. What would people think of her if she did? Surely they’d see through her, then. “I work at Bottomless Booty, home of the pirate patty!” she said. “You should come by and ask for me to be your waitress. I would normally ask for a generous tip but seeing as you are doing so much to help me right now, I suppose I will only ask for a mild to moderate tip.” Norma smiled and nodded enthusiastically at her offer for help, still clueless on what to do with the bottle or the small coins. “I can throw in some extra g-arrr-lic fries, too!” she said taking the quarters and carefully placing them in the bottom of the machine. Little did this girl know that many of the fries went to waste and if they were a bit cold, they would toss them anyway. So really there was no loss to anyone, but it certainly made Norma appear more benevolent.

“Does it?” Grace asked, “because I throw everything together anyways, but if you don’t care about that…” She smiled at the woman before she reached for her own laundry bin to set it aside. “Oh, I just thought--” Grace stopped herself. It wasn’t her job to rationalize why somebody would ask about blood over red shirts. “Never mind.” When she explained where she did work, it caught Grace by surprise-- the name had sounded familiar, though she hadn’t gone yet. It had been recommended to her, and while Grace loved a good pun, she couldn’t manage to peel herself away from her bed to eat out anywhere. Not yet, at least. “What’s a pirate patty?” Grace asked as she laughed at her words. “Okay, I’ll keep that in mind, I’ll expect moderate service then.” This woman was peculiar, but at least she wasn’t creepy. Grace had run into several people already in White Crest who she didn’t ever want to see again. Grace raised an eyebrow. So they also named their food after puns. She had to admit, the dedication was great. After a moment, Grace stuck her hand out, “I’m Grace Huang. I’m new here.” She smiled, “I work at the morgue, so cleaning is a specialty.”

Norma was unsure what she was meant to care about but she appreciated the help either way. “If you believe in throwing everything together, I am certainly not one to argue. You are the expert here.” She smiled and placed the whole bottle of detergent, lid still on, just as the girl had handed it to her, in the washing machine along with the clothes and quarters. Truly this didn’t seem so hard. “Oh a pirate patty is a world class hamburger with the best beef available and secret blend of bootiful spices!” Norma replied without hardly missing a beat. She had memorized the manual and taken notes during every training, no way was she going to lose out on business due to lack of recall knowledge. “Oh you should always expect excellent service for me and the rest of the staff! Which is why I usually expect excellent tips however I am willing to be that generous to only expect a meager exchange of goods for services.” Norma decided to take the girl’s-- Grace’s hand and shake it once more, with even more gusto this time. “It’s very nice to meet you Grace Huang! I’m new here, too. I have only lived in this town a few months.” Sometimes she forgot that humans had many different means and manors to deal with their own mortality. “I bet the morgue is a pleasant place to work though I suppose you do not make very many tips.”

“Oh--” Grace stepped in quickly to pick the bottle out of the machine. “You need to pour a cup in, like this.” This had to be a joke, right? After she filled the lid with detergent, she fished the quarters out of the barrel and placed them into the slot. She poured the liquid in over the clothes and smiled over her shoulder at Norma. “A secret blend? Sounds better than microwave mac,” Grace laughed as she set the bottle of detergent down. Norma was surely the most peculiar person that she had met since moving to White Crest, but Grace enjoyed those who strayed from what could be considered normal. She enjoyed those conversations far better. “I’ll make sure to swing by,” Grace carded her fingers through her hair as she looked over the washer. Everything seemed to be in order now. A part of her wondered if she should wait to help her with the dryer, too. She dropped her hand and rose an eyebrow-- there were a lot of newbies as opposed to people who had been born and raised, she realized. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, and no-- usually we give their wallets to the police, so…” She laughed before looking to the dryer, “Do you want me to show you how to use this?”

Norma felt as if she should be taking notes for all this intricate and strange steps to the ritual that was washing clothes. “Oh, I see. I would not have guessed that was how this works. Very intriguing.” She also watched as Grace fished the quarters out and saw her shove them into the designated slots. Ah, that sure explained that strange feature on the side of the machine. Honestly, humans added so many unnecessary steps to things. What happened to just saying a simple chant and that being sufficient? “I look forward to serving you!” Norma said with enthusiasm. She was not in need of human currency herself, but she took great pride in earning it and understood that most mortals did. It was surely the easiest way to remain unnoticed by the bounty hunters as anything supernatural. She was pleased to hear that she would not be on her own for the second phase of this endeavor. Though it was unfortunate that this was so involved. “That would be very ideal, thank you! I’m very glad I met you. Grace. Are we friends now?”

Grace smiled at Norma, unable to get it out of her head how peculiar she was. Grace had a habit of making up stories for those around her when she knew little to nothing about them. Maybe Norma grew up with nannies and never had to do anything for herself, maybe now she was a cut off heiress forced to do her own laundry. “I look forward to it, too.” She said as she looked over the settings and started the machine. Grace hadn’t expected to meet so many people who would make her want to branch out again, she had expected to stay in her apartment and speak to nobody but herself, or the cat she eventually got, so when Norma asked if they were now friends, she hesitated, but only for a second. “Yeah, I would say so!” She grinned at Norma before showing her the settings on the dryer and how to use it, where to put the quarters, and for how long to set the timer for. “You should be all set then, right?” She asked before she pulled her own laundry into the basket she had brought. “It was nice meeting you, and I’ll definitely swing by for one of those… patties?”

[minsugapie]

The Eve: part 1 (1697 words) - who is Kai?

• • • • • •

Lumi is down on her luck. After graduating university with a business degree, she has yet to secure a career in that path, reluctantly working and living at an old motel instead.

Kim Jongin is on the run. He’s been framed for embezzlement, and someone faked his death while he was out of town. With only a handful of bills and a false identity, he had been only able to survive for so long until breaking down in front of an old motel, hoping that whoever found him wouldn’t report him to the authorities.

• • • • • •

prev // current // next

masterlist

• • • • • •

Present day 

The only sound that evening could be heard from the chair behind the lobby counter was the distant buzz of the vacancy sign. Lumi had even gone to the diner for dinner and had come back to absolutely nothing changed. 

She was cold, mostly mentally. Winter was there, temperature quickly falling below freezing level. Although she used to love it, because it meant her favourite holiday was approaching, she dreaded now headed winters because she was alone at the motel and had nobody to warm her up. And the lonelier she felt, the worse her nightmare of the night, her nightmare of the Suho situation. She was able to live her life as normally as she could, but she wasn’t able to sleep without seeing his cold stare. 

That day, Lumi had cleaned out the room that was used last night, but the place was dead now, and she assumed it would be until the weekend. It did pick up during the holiday season because of travellers needing a place to stay while passing by, but it was still slow season. So, she took out the sudoku book from under the counter and set to work on a random puzzle. Really, she couldn’t believe that this was where she ended up. She wanted to go to the city and start her life as soon as she’d graduated, but she ended up here, without a family to go home to. 

An hour passed before another sound was heard. She was brought out of her puzzle-induced concentration by a bang. It sounded like something fell right outside the door. She sprung from her seat and quickly went to inspect the situation –actually glad for something to do. 

Right outside the door was a body; it was barely breathing and looked to be freezing and unconscious. She scrambled to the man, checking to see if he was still alive, and if she knew od him. What she was not expecting, however, was a man that was supposed to be dead. 

Kim Jongin was laying on the ground in front of her, clearly still very much alive —even if only by a hair. So many thoughts ran through her mind. Should she call the police? Should she call an ambulance? Should she just leave him there and pretend she didn’t see him?

Shaking her head, she knew she couldn’t do any of those things. He looked helpless, malnourished, and practically frozen to death. Any other person may not have even recognized him, especially in the dark like this. For the past few years, he was known to have lighter hair, but now, it was dyed black and falling over his face. The hat he’d been wearing must have fallen off when he fell because it lied a few feet away. He had a backpack with him but no jacket. 

Deciding that she should take him into her room, she took his bag and hat and ran to her room, unlocking it and leaving the door open. As quickly as she could, she tried to pick him up, mostly dragging him, into her room. She only barely managed to get him onto the bed before collapsing from the dead weight of him. 

Lumi had never experienced carrying dead weight before, and now she could safely say that it was not fun. As he laid there, she wondered what she should do. He was potentially a dangerous man, and Tom’s words about her being too trusting ran through her mind. 

She jumped up, remembering that she left the door open to the lobby. She would close up for the night. It wasn’t like they were going to get any more people anyways. 

What was she going to do with him? He clearly needed some nourishment and a shower, but he was still unconscious. She wondered if he would wake up and at least drink a glass of water. 

She didn’t know what to do in this kind of situation, let alone nurse someone who was on the brink of death back to health. She really should have watched more documentaries about survival. 

So, she decided to take off his shoes and put a blanket over his cold body before grabbing a water bottle, determined to get him to drink it. 

“Wake up,” she whispered as she lightly shook his body. “Please, you need to drink this…”

He stirred after a few minutes of her shaking him. His eyes didn’t open but his mouth opened and closed like he needed water. His cracked lips that were slightly blue from the cold weren’t the only indicator. He hummed as she told him that needed to drink some water. 

Grabbing the back of his head and pulling his body up into her lap so he didn’t choke on the water, she put the bottle to his lips. He didn’t make any effort to move his arms, but he tilted his chin back like he wanted more. 

It hurt her to see him in this type of situation, so vulnerable. He always gave off an air of confidence and capability, but right then he seemed so small and helpless. He finished off the entire water bottle slowly before she felt a cold hand grip her. 

“Who?…” He mumbled, eyes still not opening. Lumi moved his body back onto the bed and backed away from him. 

“It doesn’t matter. Just sleep while I find out how to make you feel better,” she answered, quickly going to her drawers to find a toque and mitts for him to put on as well as the blankets. 

The only thing that she knew for sure at the moment was that he needed to get warm. 

Vaguely, she remembered something she’d learned about getting someone warm. But it was crazy! What would he think of her? Looking at his shivering body and blue lips, she knew that she had to. She couldn’t put him in warm water. That would be painful. So she had to do it.

She began to undress Jongin slowly, feeling as if she was violating him in some way. It was all for his health, she kept telling herself. His pants were harder to come off, a thick pair of jeans that clung to his freezing frame. Once he was undressed, she took off her own clothes –both of them only left in their underwear and socks. 

She crawled under the covers and pulled him to her, trying to get over the fact that his body only made her shiver. But, it was her body warmth that would help him, and she kept that in mind. “Please be okay,” she whispered to herself as she clung to him. A long minute later she felt him move, crawling closer into her body. His legs tangled with hers, forehead resting on her chest and hands against her stomach. He felt her warmth which she assumed was a good sign. 

It didn’t take long for her to fall asleep. In that circumstance, she couldn’t even admire the man in her arms; the only important thing was that he didn’t die on her watch. 

• • • • • •

When Lumi awoke in the morning, Jongin was still clinging to her, but his body felt warm. After cracking her eyes open to check out the clock on the bedside table, she knew she had to get up. There were a few things that she needed to do today. For one, she needed to grab a few more blankets from the lobby to make sure that he stayed warm. She also needed to go to the store to get some food that wouldn’t be too much for him, maybe some bananas and some toast to start out with. Finally, he had a few scrapes and bruises littering his skin, so she needed to grab some supplies for that. 

She finally crawled out of bed, putting on the same clothes that she had on the night before. Just before she left, she tucked him in tighter and wrote a note. She left it on her side of the bed in case he woke up. 

Please stay until I come back.

Lumi x

It was short but simple. She hurriedly left to get the supplies for him. She had to walk to the general store because she didn’t own a car, but it wasn’t too far. Lumi prayed that James wasn’t currently there because she didn’t feel like having to explain why she was buying things today when she usually went on Sundays to get whatever she needed for the week. 

It was a quick trip because he wasn’t there, and she only had to deal with Tom, who had taken a job there after his wife passed for something to do. 

“Did you hurt yourself or something?” Tom asked as he watched her place the medical kit on the counter beside a loaf of bread and a bunch of bananas. 

“Just making sure the motel is stocked up,” Lumi easily fibbed, tacking out a few bills to pay for what she needed. “But I really can’t stay and chat for long, so have a good day Tom, and keep the change for yourself!”

She bolted out the door before anymore could be said. 

She wasn’t surprised that Kim Jongin was still sleeping when she returned. Hopefully he would wake up soon, so she could feed him and make him drink some more. While waiting for him to wake, Lumi took his clothes and threw them into her hamper, preparing to go to the laundromat later to wash them for him. 

Remembering that he had a backpack with him, she debated opening it to see if there were any more clothes. He was still sound asleep, so she did it. There was a very real possibility that he would not take this situation well at all. 

Inside, there was an empty wallet, a phone with its charger and very few clothes. She took all the clothes and put them in the hamper with the clothes he was wearing yesterday before turning on the phone. Maybe there was someone she could contact to tell that he was alive. 

[blackmissfrizzle]

Truth Hurts

Title: Truth Hurts

Characters: Dean x black!reader, Sam, Chuck, and Castiel

Summary: Dean finds out that the reader knows he cheated on her with Anna.

A/N: a companion fic for A Match Made in Hell. I’ll be doing more of these to detail Dean’s and the reader’s relationship at different times. Also, no tags this time. I’ll probably update later.

Based off episode 4x18

“I’m full-frontal in here, dude.” Dean complained as he read the newly discovered books about your lives.

This was supposed to be a regular case. The three of you went to a comic book store, investigating for a case, when the clerk asked if you were LARPing and then proceeded to tell you about the ‘Supernatural’ books.

Now you were sprawled in the bed with Dean, reading about your confession of love to Dean before he went to Hell. Whoever this Carver Edlund guy was, he sure did have a way with words.

Sam was sitting at the table with his laptop delving into the ‘fandom’ of Supernatural. Dean took the laptop and to his pleasure he found out there were some Dean girls, but he lost it when he found out there was some Dean/Sam girls. Hey, to each their own.

Most of the feedback on you was positive. They loved that you were a total badass, but some were rightfully pissed that you lied about your family lineage to the boys. There were some racist trolls, because God forbid a black girl gains the attention of one of the world’s perfect specimen. Oh, if they only knew the truth about their precious Dean Winchester.

“Do people really think you and Sam make a better couple? This is blasphemy!” Dean slammed Sam’s laptop in annoyance.

You had to give it to Dean, he put on a good performance. He almost convinced you he was the perfect boyfriend, but you remembered that you caught him with Anna unbeknownst to him.

“Hmmm, I think me and Sam would make a cute couple.” Sam smirked at his older brother and Dean had to hold himself back from smacking it off his face.

Dean pulled you out of your seat and into his lap. He gave you a kiss, which you didn’t return with as much enthusiasm and it was becoming more frequent. After, you guys find Carver Edlund, Dean decided he would talk to you to figure out what’s going on.

Thanks to proving you were ‘super fans’ of Supernatural and a bit of oversharing from the publisher you were able to find Carver Edlund aka Chuck Shurley.

Sam, Dean, and you find yourselves knocking on the door of a cute little house. When Chuck first answered the door he thought you three were playing a joke when Dean introduced y’all. He still thought it was a joke when you showed him the arsenal in Baby’s trunk. It wasn’t until Dean said his last name and you switched your eyes to black did he believe you.

You found yourself with Sam and Dean, in Chuck’s quaint home that was littered with empty beer bottles.

“Oh, you’re still there!” Chuck jumped when he turned around to you three.

“Yup.”

“You’re not a hallucination?”

“Nope.” Dean popped the p while standing there irritated.

Soon, Chuck went on a rant that he was a cruel and capricious God. He kept detailing almost every awful thing that happened to the boys and then asked them if they truly lived through certain events.

“And you,” Chuck steered his gaze towards you. “All those nightmares about hell and then to find Dean cheating on you with an angel no less!”

You couldn’t stop Chuck from revealing your secrets, but the murderous look on your face told him that he made a big mistake.

“I’m sorry, I…I…I forgot he didn’t know yet.” Chuck immediately apologized. He knew your powers could get out of control if you were extremely emotional and he didn’t want to be a target.

Too bad for Chuck, you were embarrassed and pissed. The boys were looking at you with pity and you needed to get out of there fast. You stormed out the house, ignoring Dean’s pleas and when you slammed the door you sent objects flying off the shelves with your powers.

Dean gripped Chuck by the collar, upset with him for revealing his big mistake but more upset that he knew he just broke whatever he had with you.

Sam pulled him back, even though all he wanted to do was punch Dean himself. “C’mon dude, let him go.”

After everything settled down, Chuck explained what he was writing next. He told the brothers that he wrote himself into the book confronted by his characters.

You were pacing down the sidewalk, trying to rid yourself of the anger when the boys came out. Sam threw you an apologetic look before he got into the Impala.

Dean reached for your hand, but you moved to escape his reach and he knew right then he lost you.

“I don’t wanna talk about it. Not now. I just wanna figure out how Chuck is doing what he does and do a bit of laundry, ok?” You kept your gaze hard, you didn’t want Dean to know he had this much of an affect on you. He shooked his head yes and dropped the topic. Dean knew better than to push your buttons when you’re already pissed.

At the laundromat, Dean was reading the transcript that Chuck gave him. He was exactly describing the scene before you. It captured your irritated bitch face and Sam’s brooding shoulders.

Needing some space from Dean you exited the laundromat, but not too long after Dean followed you.

“What did Shurley mean by nightmares?” Dean asked barely above a whisper. He knew it was better to ease into his infidelity instead of jumping in.

Not making eye contact with your boyfriend, you fumbled with the bracelet he gave you. “When you came back, I started having nightmares. They started once we slept in the bed together. At first, I didn’t know what they were, but soon I figured out it was your time in hell. I saw everything, Dean!” Tears were streaming down your face.

“I saw how Alistair cut into you and tortured you. How he would use my face, Sam’s, and Bobby’s, to mess with you. I saw and felt everything! I felt your joy when you took Alastair’s deal and jumped off the rack to put bodies on and torture.”

Dean’s adam’s apple bobbed as he tried to contain his own tears. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

You wiped away a tear and gave Dean a dry laugh. “Because I was trying to do the healthy thing and let you tell me on your own time. I didn’t want to make you talk until you were ready. But it turns out you just didn’t want to talk to me. I should’ve known better. Eventually, you couldn’t wait on me any longer and you would go back to your usual type.”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. Y/N I did not sleep with Anna because we haven’t had sex yet or because she’s supposedly my type.”

“Then why?”

Dean hung his head in guilt and licked his lips before he answered. “Because she got it. She told me she knew about what happened in hell and I shouldn’t blame myself. Y/N, I thought if I told you I would lose you forever and I can’t bear the thought without you in my life.”

This time you made no attempt to wipe away your tears. You looked at Dean through blurry eyes and replied with venom in your voice. “Well, great job Winchester, you just lost me.”

Each of you stared at the other, mourning the loss of your relationship. Sam came out the laundromat and looked guilty for interrupting the intimate moment. “Ummm, Chuck called he said there’s an emergency.”

Grateful for the interruption, you ran to grab your laundry and went to Baby. When you met up with Chuck, he told you that Lilith was coming and she and Sam were going to have sex in ”…throes of fiery demonic passion.” Ugh, disgusting!

It turned out that Lilith is not possessing a child anymore and was now a dental hygienist. Well, at least according to Chuck she was hot.

Sam laughed at the idea of him and Lilith together, but Dean didn’t find it funny. I’m fact, he took Chuck’s transcript as a ‘what not to do’. There’s was no research for Sam, no bacon cheeseburger for Dean , no fighting between the brothers, and no refereeing for you. But all that went to hell. The waitress accidentally gave Dean the wrong burger, the boys managed to argue in a calm manner, and you still ended up getting in the middle while scrolling through your phone.

All three of you had your own mission to avoid Chuck’s vision. Sam had to stay locked up in the motel room, Dean had to park his car to avoid driving around in it all day, and you had to stay away from your father, which should be easy.

After Dean left you and Sam in the motel room, Sam tried to get you to talk about your feelings and he even gave you the puppy-dog eyes, but you couldn’t do it. So, you left the room and somehow ended up at a park bench.

Suddenly you felt an unwanted presence next to you. You were about to pull out your gun, but someone gripped your wrist before you could. That someone was your demon father.

“How did you find me?”

“I was monitoring your power usage, since someone doesn’t call.” He nudged your shoulder.

Rolling your eyes, you scooted further away from him. “Maybe someone would call you if you didn’t murder their mother and try to make them lead a demon army.”

“You got a point. But I’m here to talk.” He gave you a fatherly pat on your knee. “Before Alistair untimely death due to your boyfriend and his brother.”

“Yeah, it’s a shame he died before his time,” you dramatically rolled your eyes.

“Anyway, before he died he told me that a certain Winchester slept with that fallen angel. And as a father, I’m trying my hardest not to rip his throat out.” Your father’s eyes flashed to black for a millisecond.

It must’ve been keeping your emotions bottled up, because you ended up sobbing in your father’s lap. Despite being a demon, your father was soothing and held you.

For a moment, you believed you two were a regular father and daughter until a ping from your phone brought you back to reality. Dean texted you, saying that you needed to come back to the motel room ASAP.

“Winchester calls and you just drop everything and go running, huh?” Your father was angry at how fast you moved for Dean.

“You has to ruin the moment. Just don’t bother contacting me anymore.” You were walking away when your dad left you with one parting statement.

“It’s inevitable, Y/N. We’ll break all the seals and you’ll be fighting on our side one way or another. Stop tricking yourself into thinking you’re a hunter or a conduit of good. Hell, Dean even slept with a literal angel before you. Maybe he knows deep down that someday you’ll reach your true demonic potential.”

Anxiety, fear, and tears suffocated your throat. Your dad said all the things you feared ever since you met the Winchesters. Not trusting your voice, you flipped the bird at your dad.

By the time you got back, Sam and Dean were arguing. Supposedly, Chuck was a prophet and everything he writes comes true. Oh, you guys were screwed. Dean was bent on leaving town before Lilith got there, but Sam wanted to take the opportunity and fight.

The fight was getting bad, Dean brought up how Sam’s been using his psychic powers to kill Alistair and you took that as your cue to leave the room. Sometimes it was best not to get in the middle of their fights.

Leaning against Baby and drinking some water, you were contemplating your life with the Winchesters when Dean came storming out the room.

“Sam’s stuck on staying?”

Dean wiped down his face in frustration. “Yeah. He’s just ugh.” Dean finally took in your demeanor and noticed the puffiness of your eyes. He reached to grab your hand and this time you didn’t pull away.

“I’m gonna take a guess here, according to Chuck, you should’ve met with your demonic daddy. How that go?”

“Surprisingly good. He threatened to rip your throat out and I might just take him up on that. Then, he had to rant on about my silly demonic potential. You know the usual stuff.” You waved your hand in dismissal.

Dean opened up hid mouth to apologize, but you stopped him. “I don’t need your apology. After this I’m gonna go to Bobby’s and help him find out how to stop the breaking of the seals.”

The fluttering of angel wings broke the uneasy silence between you and Dean after your declaration. Dean begged his angelic friend to find some way to interfere, but Cas claimed it was fate. However, in so many words Castiel suggested we get Chuck near Lilith and an archangel would come.

With the threat of getting shot, Chuck complied with the plan and you guys succeeded. Lilith smoked out of her meat suit and Sam was saved.

Immediately you grabbed your duffle bag and your car keys. You felt a tug on your bag before you could throw it in the trunk.

“I’m not gonna apologize again because I know you don’t want to hear it now and I’m not gonna beg you to stay with me, because you deserve better. Just please let me know when you get to Bobby’s.” Although, Dean didn’t say those words, his green eyes did. You could feel his apology but you didn’t want to accept it, you were still angry at him and yourself.

Swallowing back some tears, you gave Dean a head nod and continued to pack up. Once you got settled into your driver’s seat is when you finally replied to your boyfriend/ex-boyfriend. “Thanks. I’ll let you know when I make it. And umm,” you were fiddling with your keys to rid yourself of your nervous energy. “I’m gonna use this time to figure out want I wanna do with our relationship, k.”

Dean slowly smiled at his chance to earn you back. “That all I can ask for sweetheart.”

You pull out of the parking lot and kept your eyes in the rear view mirror to look at Dean until he disappeared from your view.

[geniuslab]

Dirty Laundry (M)

→ Pairing: Jimin x reader

→ Genre: Smut with a lil fluff

→ Word Count: 5k

→ Summary: Doing your laundry isn’t exactly fun, but when you run into a hot stranger at your local laundromat, you decide it isn’t half bad.

→ What to Expect: oral sex (receiving), fingering, a little bit of public indecency, questionable laundromat conduct, a plot if you squint a little and turn your head

You learned your lesson on the very first day at the laundromat. You’d put your clothing in the washer, and not wanting to sit there and wait, you’d left to run a couple quick errands before returning to put your clothes in the dryer. But when you got back inside, bags slung over your arms, you saw a pile of clothing crumpled on top of the counter. Your familiar soft pink cardigan poking out on top let you know the hideous wadded up pile belonged to you.

“Oh come on,” you huffed under your breath and set your bags down next to your clothes on the counter. You inspected your clothing, including your pillow cases which were now resting on the dirty counter. You weren’t the biggest germaphobe in the world, but the multiple stains on the counter were enough to make you want to rewash. You let out a massive sigh as you plucked up your laundry and looked for an open washer, eyes scanning the laundromat.

“You’re not gonna find an open one at this hour,” a voice said from beside you, and you jumped a little and looked to your left.

A man around your age was sitting up on the counter as if he’d been there the entire time, but he definitely had not been there before. Among the stainless steel of the laundromat, his pink hair was a surprising splash of color that pulled you forward unconsciously. It was as if he was the only alive thing in the laundromat, despite it being packed.

“You must be new to this,” he said.

You thought about lying, not wanting to admit that you were a complete amateur, but your crumpled up clothing betrayed any lie you could’ve told.

A smile crept onto his face, and if he didn’t look soft before with his pink hair, the fact that his eyes crinkled shut with his smile made him positively adorable. 

“First rule is to never leave your laundry unattended.”

You tried not to roll your eyes and turned away from him. “Thanks, I think I learned that one already.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see him throw his hands up in defense. “I’m just trying to help.”

You groaned and leaned against the counter. It was dinnertime, and the last thing you wanted to do was spend the next hour at the laundromat. Especially considering the traitor who’d thrown your clothing out of the washer was only a few feet away and kept throwing glances at you as if you were the stupidest person on earth.

“My clothing’s almost done, you can use the washer after me,” the pink haired guy said rather gently, and you peeked at him and let out the tension in your muscles that you hadn’t realized you’d been holding onto.

“Thanks,” you replied sheepishly, and you saw him throw you a smile before he leapt down from the counter and opened the washer.

You followed him with your laundry so you could load it in before someone else grabbed it. It was as if everyone came in from work to do their laundry, which you supposed was exactly what you’d done.

Once you poured in the detergent and started the machine, you turned around and saw the man sitting back up on the counter facing the driers. Since you knew you couldn’t leave without risking your clothes being taken out for a second time, you jumped up on the counter next to the man but faced the other direction.

“Are you new here?” the man asked you, and you turned a little so you could look at him. The counter wasn’t very large, so the two of you were practically sitting right next to each other even though you weren’t facing the same way. He was fussing with a bag of chips, his hands seemed to be too damp from moving his clothes that he couldn’t get a good enough grip to open them.

“Yeah, I just moved here,” you replied and reached for the bag of chips. He let go of them without resisting, and watched you open them and hand them back to him.

The man nodded, although you weren’t sure if it was in response to what you’d said or because you’d opened the chips for him. He popped one into his mouth and turned the bag to you, offering you some.

Your stomach growled, having still not eaten dinner. You pulled one out and nearly moaned when the salt hit your tongue.

“My best advice is never come after work unless you have to,” he said, his eyes twinkling in amusement at your reaction to the chips.

“Then why are you here?” you asked and grabbed another chip since he hadn’t moved the bag.

“I had to.”

“What, gotta wash the blood out of your clothing from your last murder or something?” you asked, and when you didn’t get a response you looked up from the bag of chips. He was looking at you seriously, and you gulped.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend—”

He broke out into laughter, his eyes crinkling closed and his whole body shaking.

“I like you,” he said between his laughter.

“I like you too, as long as you’re not a murderer,” you said with a small chuckle. “You’re the most interesting person I’ve met here so far.”

“I’m not a murderer, I was traveling for work before this and I couldn’t go another day with dirty laundry.” You watched as he popped another chip into his mouth before his brows furrowed. “Hey wait, I’m the only person you’ve met here so far.”

“Exactly.” You smiled at his offended expression, his mouth hanging open. You hated the fact that you paid more attention to his plump lips than you should’ve. You cleared your throat and looked away. “Well, you and the person who took my washer. But it’s hard not to beat that.”

“I’m Jimin, the most interesting person you will ever meet here.” He locked eyes with you as he emphasized his words and you bit your lip.

“I’m Y/N, and you’ll have to prove that to me, I guess,” you replied, the words slipping out almost seductively before you even realized it. The laundromat wasn’t the quietest place in the world, what with all the machines running, but those words practically dripped from your mouth and you blushed at the implication. You grabbed another chip to busy yourself with something so that he wouldn’t notice your blush and the fact that, despite only knowing him for several minutes, you were incredibly attracted to him.

“I guess I will,” he replied, and you nearly choked at the matched seduction in his voice. While his voice had been soft before, his most recent words were rough, brushing over your skin and leaving goosebumps.

Just when you thought your entire face must be red, you looked down at your ringing phone appreciatively.

“I can watch your clothes,” Jimin said. You nodded thanks and picked up the phone, stepping outside into the cool air to help stop your blush. If every visit to the laundromat was going to be like this, you were going to have to start bringing a fan.

“Come during the day or the middle of the night, although I wouldn’t really recommend a pretty girl like you coming here at night alone,” Jimin had told you later that day.

“When do you come?” you asked, praying your blush wouldn’t come back, especially at his words.

“I’m usually here on Thursday afternoons and random nights when I can be bothered.” You nodded your head at this information, but stored it away. And so, you found yourself conveniently needing to do laundry the following Thursday. Your work was flexible, and you left midday to grab lunch and swing by the laundromat to wash some items of clothing that you’d practically dug for in the morning so you’d have something to bring even though you’d just washed all of your stuff a few days before.

You weren’t sure if he’d be there considering it hadn’t been that long, but a smile came onto your face as you opened the door and saw pink hair across the room.

“Back already?” he asked across the laundromat. It wasn’t a very big business, so it only took you a few seconds to let the door swing shut behind you and walk up to him.

“I’ve got a lot to wash,” you replied with a shrug and put your bag down. He looked you up and down with a smirk and you busied yourself with taking your clothing out. 

You were not at the laundromat washing your clothes again just so you could see a guy. But the way his eyes scanned you made your skin tingle just like his words the other day had, and you bit your lip again and sorted your laundry. Okay, so maybe you were here to see him again. But it didn’t mean anything, and you might as well make sure your clothes are clean, right? Besides, you were going to have to wash your clothes weekly, so why not wash them on a day you knew someone cute would be there?

This is how you justified making Thursdays your laundry day, and it became routine to go at the same time so you could see Jimin. Every week, you would hop up onto the counter next to him and talk. He almost always had a snack, but you’d started bringing some as well, and the two of you would sit cross legged on the counter and share snacks and stories.

“What do you mean you went on tour with one of the country’s most popular artists?” you asked one day, nearly choking on your food just like the first time you’d met him.

He shrugged and smirked. “I’m a dancer, I got hired to backup for their world tour.”

Your jaw dropped and then you snapped it shut. “Wow, you’re trying really hard to prove me wrong about that whole interesting thing, aren’t you?”

“This isn’t even the beginning,” he said and winked at you.

You hid your blush by tipping your head down so your hair would cover your face.

“What do you do?” he asked you, and you were grateful for the change in topic.

“I’m a video game developer,” you replied, and his eyes got wide.

“No shit, working on anything I’d know of?”

“Probably not,” you laughed. “I work at a small indie company at the moment, but I’m hoping to work my way up in the industry.”

“Don’t forget me when you’re famous,” he said and grabbed your chips out of your lap.

“That’s funny coming from the guy who went on a world tour.”

“What can I say, I’m pretty amazing.”

You rolled your eyes and stole the chips back from him, pouring the remnants into your mouth. He watched as you did this, and you saw his tongue slip out and lick his bottom lip. You lowered the bag and looked at him silently, certain you were blushing outright.

You’d hoped that the way his gaze made your heart skip a beat was just fleeting, something that happened just because he was cute and new and exciting. But as the weeks went by, and you two became genuine friends, the sexual tension between you two only increased. It was always small moments, like him brushing up against you when he’d reach for his laundry, or the way his eyes would travel up and down your body when he thought you weren’t looking, or his finger brushing crumbs away from the corner of your lip as the two of you snacked. It felt as if something were going to happen, but the time was never right. Too many people were there, the buzzer would go off signaling that your laundry was done, your roommate called saying that she’d set the fire alarm off and the whole building was evacuated and she was in a lot of trouble and can you please come home now and talk to the landlord before he kicked both of you out?

It was for this very reason that you hadn’t asked him to hang out outside of the laundromat, not because you didn’t want to see him, but because you knew the second you were alone with him that something would happen. And you wanted it to, almost desperately so, which was exactly why you didn’t see him alone. The way you wanted him was so primal and deliciously tempting that it almost scared you. You liked control, but somehow you knew you’d lose all of that once he had his hands on you. 

Not to mention, a man distracting you was the last thing you needed while you worked on your new work project. Things were increasingly coming together on the game you’d been working on, and you didn’t need anything pulling you away from that. Unfortunately, your mind tended to wander despite your wishes against it. Even small things reminded you of him, and before you knew it your legs would be crossed and you’d be biting your lip. Thoughts of Jimin, and what he could do to you and what you could do to him, entered your mind far more than you cared to admit. 

“You okay?” your coworker asked one day, and you blinked up from your computer screen and looked at him. You’d been working on more sketches of the main character, but you’d gotten lost in his lips, realizing that they were almost exactly like Jimin’s. The pen in your hand hadn’t moved for the past several minutes as you pondered this.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you replied. The deadline for your proposal was fast approaching, and getting lost in a replica of the hot laundromat guys’ lips wasn’t on the agenda. You cleared your throat and got back to work, but throughout the rest of the day it kept nagging you that maybe resisting Jimin wasn’t the best idea. Perhaps giving in was exactly what you needed.

“So ummm, please don’t get mad at me,” your roommate, Yerim, said.

“What happened?” you asked. You were curled up on the couch with a glass of wine watching a movie to de-stress, but the second you saw Yerim standing in front of you with your dress, your eyes went wide and you set down your glass.

“I wore this out a few nights ago, and I kinda got a drink spilled on me,” she said sheepishly.

“Yerim, that’s the dress I’m wearing to my presentation at work tomorrow!” you practically screeched and jumped up. You grabbed the dress from her hands and looked at the damage. All down the front of the gray dress was a red stain.

“Why wouldn’t you have told me sooner?” you asked. “Actually, why did you wear this out in the first place?”

“You said I could always borrow your clothes! And I didn’t have any clean dresses, and I was going on a nice date with this new guy and I thought I’d look put together in something of yours. I didn’t know how to tell you after it happened.”

She was pouting, which softened your anger a little bit, but you stood there speechless holding onto the only dress you owned that was professional enough for a formal presentation. You weren’t just hanging around at work sketching tomorrow, you were presenting your new game to a massive company. 

“I have to wear this tomorrow,” you groaned.

“You could wear one of my dresses instead?”

You knew your roommate’s wardrobe, and her short party dresses weren’t going to cut it.

“I’ve gotta go see if I can wash this out,” you said and fumbled for your phone. It was already past midnight, and you’d always followed Jimin’s advice to not go to the laundromat alone at night. You shot him a quick text and he replied in a matter of moments.

Yeah, I’ve got some laundry I can do. See you there.

“I’m really sorry!” Yerim yelled as you shut the door behind you and practically ran down the block. You were only in your t-shirt and shorts, having barely had enough time to throw on some sneakers before you’d flown out of your apartment. But thankfully it wasn’t very far, and no one was out to witness the girl wildly running down the sidewalk in pajamas with a dress in her hands.

Jimin was already at the laundromat when you arrived, and you breathed a sigh of relief when you realized he was the only one there.

“Clothing emergency?” he asked, and you held up the dress in front of you so he could see it. “Is that what you said you’re wearing to your presentation tomorrow?”

You just nodded.

“Yikes, okay let’s see what we can do about this.”

He had all the laundry essentials, and he went to work on spraying it and scrubbing as you watched, horrified, at the red stain that surely would not come out.

“Thankfully, I have some experience getting red out of clothing,” he said, and then looked up at you with a smile. “You’re not laughing, that was supposed to be a joke.”

“I’m just really stressed out right now,” you blurted out.

“It’s gonna be okay, Y/N. I’ll get the stain out, we’ll wash your dress, and you’ll be able to give your presentation.”

You nodded your head silently and watched him scrub, and miraculously the stain got lighter and lighter. By the time he was done scrubbing, there was only a faint stain on the dress. You could feel a little bit of your anxiety slip away and let out a sigh of relief.

“Time to wash it now, and if it’s still not out then I’ll give it another scrub.” He put your dress in the washer and then tugged on your hand so you’d jump up onto the counter with him. You hopped up and went to pull your hand away, but he didn’t let go. You watched as he traced patterns into your skin, the familiar tingling sensation you often got when you were around him returning.

“You’re gonna have to wait a while for that to finish, so just try to relax.”

“You realizing telling someone who’s stressed out to relax is the opposite of helpful, right?” you said. Your heart rate was picking up, although you weren’t sure if it was from worrying over your dress and the presentation tomorrow, or the fact that he was pulling your hand, and effectively you, closer to him on the counter.

“What if I can distract you and help relieve some of your stress?” he asked, and when he looked up at you between his lashes you felt a bolt of fire shoot straight through you down to your core.

“What kind of distraction?” you asked, but you knew exactly what he meant. He pulled you closer, his hand now inching up your arm slowly. You swallowed hard but didn’t pull away. You’d been fighting thoughts of Jimin for weeks now, and you didn’t want to any longer.

“You seem to be really stressed whenever you see me,” he said. “Like a tightly wound coil about to spring free.”

“It’s just work,” you said, but both of you knew it wasn’t true. His fingers danced along the sensitive skin on your arm and made you shiver. 

“I’m not the only one who feels this, am I?” he asked, and when he looked up at you from beneath his eyelashes, you lost your breath. “Is it just me who wants this so badly?”

You couldn’t find the words to respond right away, but when you did they fell out of your mouth. “I want you so fucking much.”

“Good.” His hand moved up from your arm and wound around your neck to gently pull you closer. “I told you I would be the most interesting person you ever met here, didn’t I?” he asked, and you nodded and let your eyes flutter shut as he leaned in. 

You felt his breath on your lips, and you leaned forward until you could feel his against yours. But he didn’t lean in closer, just stayed there, his lips just a faint impression against yours.

“What are you waiting for?” you asked, and you could feel him chuckle against your lips.

“I’m waiting for you to answer.”

You rolled your eyes and leaned forward, but he pulled back and looked you in the eyes, waiting.

“Fine, you did and you were right,” you huffed and leaned forward even more. “Now give me what I’ve been waiting for.” Finally, he leaned into you and pressed his lips against yours. Resisting him in the past had been so, so wrong. You tried to stifle the moan that crept its way up, but his lips were so soft and his hand on your waist was much too delightfully sinful for you to keep quiet.

Your kissing grew feverish, no amount satisfying you enough. He felt you pushing up against him harder, heard your ragged breaths in between kisses and noticed your desperate hands gripping his shirt harder and harder. While his tongue pressed against yours, he gently pushed you backwards until you were lying down on the counter.

You may have imagined lying underneath Jimin before, but you’d never imagined doing it in the laundromat. This didn’t stop you, however, from lifting your knees and trapping Jimin against you, or your hips from slowly rocking against his. 

He moaned into your mouth at the sensation. “Fuck, I’ve been wanting this from the moment I saw you.”

“Me too,” you confessed, your voice breathless. The friction was nothing short of bliss, and you picked up your pace against him and his growing erection to help satiate the throbbing between your legs. When you pulled apart for air, you realized something.

“What if someone sees?” you asked, your worry cutting through the cloud of your arousal.

“All the windows are covered,” he said and kissed your neck, causing your hips to jerk up into him.

“But what if someone walks in?”

He chuckled, his laugh reverberating against the soft spot between your neck and your collarbone. “That’s part of the fun, isn’t it?”

Jimin ground harder into you, and your fingers tangled in his hair as both of you devoured each other, no amount of kisses or friction enough. You wrapped a leg around his waist and sighed into his mouth at the closer contact.

“Looks like your dress isn’t the only dirty thing here,” Jimin said, and you gently bit his bottom lip in response.

“You don’t like my jokes?” he asked and pulled backwards, the devilish glint in his eyes suggesting that he knew no matter what joke he made, you were putty beneath him.

“Please just don’t stop,” you whimpered and grabbed at his shirt to pull him back down towards you.

“I won’t, princess,” he promised, and the combination of the pet name paired with him playing with the waistband of your shorts ripped a moan out of you. He toyed with your shorts for a few moments, savoring each time your eyes squeezed shut when you felt his skin brush against yours. Then he slowly pulled your shorts down your legs, inching down with them. Once they were off, he planted kisses up your legs, and you used everything in your power to keep your legs from shaking when he got to your thighs. Your fingers were knotted in his hair as he sucked on your skin, leaving a hickey that you were both infuriated and aroused by.

“Did I say you could mark me?” you asked. You’d hoped to sound stern, but the sight of such a gorgeous man between your legs, and the feeling of his hands on your thighs, made your voice come out in a squeak.

“As if you weren’t going to beg for it anyway,” he replied and sucked on the sensitive skin of your thigh again. You wanted to object, but you could only moan and grip his hair harder.

He began roaming up higher, his breath fanning over your underwear and what lay beneath. Just the heat of him had you squirming, and before you could stop yourself a series of requests spilled from your mouth. You wanted him all over you, on you, inside of you.

“I knew you’d be a beggar,” he said teasingly, but you didn’t even care that he was right, you just needed him.

When you felt his hot breath between your legs you whimpered but kept yourself still, every atom in you buzzing at how close he was to what you needed, what you craved so badly. 

“You’re so pretty,” he murmured and then finally gave you what you so desperately wanted. Nothing could have prepared you for the flood of pleasure that rushed through your body when he pushed your underwear to the side and let his tongue finally touch your throbbing center. Your legs were shaking now as he wrapped his tongue around your clit, pushing against it and licking it.

“Please don’t stop,” you begged again, even though you knew he had no intentions of stopping. 

He moaned against you and you felt his hand on your thigh inch higher, and then his fingers were inside of you, pumping in and out slowly. 

“Oh my god,” you cried. Your thoughts were all muddled, his name spilling out of your lips in broken whimpers. It felt like your entire body was about to crumble every time he thrust his fingers up into you. Your orgasm was building, stealing your breath away as you got closer to tipping over the edge. You were torn between wanting to thrust up into him and pull away, the sensation of him in and on you too much and yet not enough.

He could sense you were close, and you could feel him smile against you, no doubt smirking at how weak you were under his touch. 

“Can you cum for me, princess?” he asked, but didn’t wait for an answer. His pace became relentless, and you soon fell apart against his fingers. No sound came from your mouth, you were absolutely breathless for the several seconds of pure bliss that rocked through your body.

Jimin didn’t pull away until you were gasping for air again, and when he did he planted a kiss on your inner thigh and then let your underwear fall back into place before he hopped off of the table. Neither of you had to share a single word to express how good that was, it was clear in his cocky expression and your flushed cheeks.

You’d barely sat upright on the table when you heard the bell for the door ring, and a cranky looking man walked in, looked both of you up and down, and grumbled under his breath before he started loading his laundry. Your heart was going a mile a minute, but you were wearing an oversized t-shirt, and Jimin had quickly pulled apart from you and kicked your shorts under the table before the man had walked in. All it would look like was two people hanging out while waiting for their laundry to be done. At least that’s what you hoped the man thought, because you sure as hell didn’t want him knowing you’d just gotten eaten out on the very table he’d just placed his basket down on the end of.

Jimin cleared his throat and pointed at the machine. “The cycle should be done soon.” His cheeks were a bit pink now too, and you covered your mouth with your hand to stop a giggle from slipping out.

The old man grumbled something again about “youth these days” and left, apparently unconcerned about his laundry being taken in the middle of the night. As soon as the door swung shut you broke out into laughter and Jimin did too. He came up close to you and pulled you to the edge of the table, and you wrapped your legs around him. Your stomach flipped when you realized how natural it felt having him there in front of you, between your legs with his arms around you.

“When can I return the favor?” you asked. You didn’t know how he’d concealed his boner from the stranger, because the bulge in his pants was incredibly obvious. His lips were swollen and even more pink and plump than normal, and you smoothed his hair down that you’d previously been clutching.

“Unfortunately not anytime soon, considering that man already thinks we’re up to something,” he sighed.

“How about you come back to my place after my dress is done?” you asked before you even thought it through. You rarely brought men home, mostly because your roommate would badger you about it for weeks afterward. But you didn’t want things to end here, tonight, in this dingy laundromat. What you’d had wasn’t enough, not by a long shot. Maybe you were selfish, but you wanted so much more of him. Not just physically, either.

“Don’t you have a presentation to give tomorrow?” he asked, but the glint in his eyes and the smile creeping at the edge of his lips betrayed his concern.

“I’m starting to think you were right, you’re a very good stress reliever,” you replied.

“Well then it would almost be criminal for me to not help you out,” he said. “You know, since you’re so stressed about the presentation.”

“Exactly.” You smiled and pulled him even closer to you.

“Although I’m not gonna lie, I wonder what it would feel like to have you pressed up against the dryer when it’s on,” he said, and you swatted your hand against his chest.

“I’ll have to get my own washer and dryer for you to experience that.” You looked pointedly at the washing machine that was cleaning the stranger’s clothes. It had already been a close call, and you weren’t trying that one again.

“I’d be more than happy to help you install them,” Jimin said. “In fact, maybe then I can start doing my laundry at yours.”

“That’s not part of the deal. My washer, my laundry.”

“Then we’ll start with your sheets,” he quipped. “You’ll probably want to wash those after we’re done.”

You groaned at his comment and buried your face in his chest, but you couldn’t stop your mind from thinking about all the things you’d be doing on those very sheets with the handsome man in front of you. Who knew doing laundry could be so fun?

[masterlist link will be added later! search ‘my fic’ or ‘masterlist’]

[alittleshocking]

Molotov Cocktail (*) [Self-para]

The greatest prank that Shock ever pulled...

@littlcdvl, @littlebarrelboy

[tw -- house fire, violence, cancer, thoughts of death]

Shannon has cancer.

Cancer: the kind of monster that hides under beds. The kind of monster that she’d stopped believing in a long time ago, deciding she was going to be scarier than her mother’s wooden spoon or her father’s screaming, drunken shouts.

She’s scared of this, though. Shannon won’t admit it to anyone, but she looks between her pale mother, who holds her close and strokes her straw hair, and Shannon has the sneaking suspicion that she’s doing it for herself and not Shannon—to her father who grunts once and says: how much is this going to cost me? And Shannon realizes this is serious. She can’t laugh it off, like she couldn’t laugh off when Lucius had kicked her in the leg and it had hurt and hurt and hurt until she was in tears and couldn’t walk and had to go to the hospital, her father yelling her about how much it was gonna cost them for her to get an X-Ray and to stop being a little pussy bitch about it.

Shannon is not a pussy bitch, but it felt like her leg was shattering over and over and over again. What was she supposed to do?

They leave the hospital and Veronica takes them to the grocery store, when Wade goes back to work. She lets Shannon buy a chocolate bar and Shannon slips a box of black hair dye into the pocket of her sweater. At home, she pours the black goop onto her head and imagines it’s the chemo and it’s gonna heal her. It doesn’t, but she thinks she looks badass in the mirror.

There is still a fist in her chest where her heart should be.

“Yo, what the fuck happened to your hair?” comes the nasally voice of Lucius, who is sitting on his lazy ass in the living room when Shannon steps out of the bathroom.

“I dyed it,” Shannon scoffs at him.

“Looks like something died on your head.” Lucius goes back to his book. Nerd.

Brandon is sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the couch that Lucius is laying on, watching cartoons, but he looks at Shannon and smiles. “I think it looks nice.”

“Shut up, Brandon.” Shannon makes a face at him, but she touches the black locks, pushing them back from her head. She wonders what it will feel like when her head is smooth. Once she’s a bald fuck whose hair has all fallen out. God, she’s gonna look so ugly. But, hey, maybe she’ll let Lucius color on the back of it with permanent marker. Veronica would hate it.

That is, if Wade decides to pay for treatment.

They could just let her die.

That fist in her chest punches against her ribcage.

“I have an idea.”

This catches Lucius’ attention. His blue eyes flick up to hers and he closes over his book, using Bradon’s head to pull himself into a sitting position.  

“Oh?”

“Yup!”

Shannon didn’t, but she figured she could come up with one as they went. It needed to be good. Something that would really go down in the history books. (The history books being, of course, the Hallowtown town paper.) Maybe someone would die. Maybe if she sacrificed someone else’s life, she’d get a free pass, right? That’s how that shit worked. Magic or whatever.

Was worth a shot.

But how to kill someone without going to jail?

“What’s the plan then?”

Shock was wandering over to the kitchen. It was only a few steps away, so she could still hear Lucius’ annoying pestering. She rolled her eyes as she opened up their junk drawer (really, they were all junk drawers). She plucked the long matches that Wade used to light his grill when he felt in the mood to try to kill them all with food poisoning.

Shaking the box, she lifted them suggestively.

“Are we gonna make s’mores?” came Bradon’s voice, he had crawled up onto the couch next to Lucius and put his round chin on the back of it. “I saw you had a chocolate bar—”

“And if you touch it, you fucking die,” she threatened.

Lucius popped him over the back of head for her. How sweet.

“Now, y’all know that house that’s crawling with those annoying kids down the street?”

Lucius nodded at the same time Brandon shook his head.

Shannon wandered forward. “We’re going to light it on fire.”

Lucius’ eyebrows jumped up and he tilted his head slightly. “Woah.”

“Woooah,” Brandon said, much more empathetically.

“Yeah, I saw one of those little assholes kick a dog the other day. They fuckin’ deserve it.” The lie came easily to her lips, knowing that both her idiotic brothers would take offense to that.

“Fuck that Delbert kid, I knew he was a dickwad,” Lucius said hotly.

“Why would he do that?” Brandon’s eyes were wide as saucers.

“Because he’s a dickwad,” Shannon said with a bright smile. “So, we’re gonna light his house on fire.”

“But where will they live?”

“Ooooh, my god, stop asking questions. It’s a prank! They’ll figure it out. It’s not like we’re going to burn the whole thing down.”

So, the boys got off the couch and the went to their rooms, zipped up their boots and pulled their hoodies up over their heads. Gloves too—even though there were holes in the fingers for some of them. It was better than nothing. Next, they went to the kitchen. There were plenty of glass beer bottles scattered about. They filled Brandon’s backpack with them. Next, they went to the garage. In one corner was a pile of dirty clothes that needed to go to the laundromat. Shock grabbed a pair of scissors and one of Veronica’s blouses and started ripping it into strips. Lucius found the gasoline can that Wade kept on hand when he inevitably ran out. He had to hide it in a different spot every time, since Shannon and Lucius kept finding it. But, thankfully, their father was an idiot.

Once they had all the elements, they needed they got on their bikes. Shannon climbed onto the back of Lucius’ standing on the pegs, claiming that she needed to hold the gasoline (the other around Lucius’ ribcage to keep her steady.) The truth was it hurt too much to pedal.

It didn’t take too long to get down the street. They pulled off a few houses down, hiding their bikes back by the creek. They knew this neighborhood better than anyone else. Brandon stayed with the bikes, keeping them upright for a quick getaway. Lucius and Shannon sat in the grass, dribbling gasoline all over their hands as they tried to get it in the bottles. Brandon was in charge of stuffing the strips of cloth into the top, something that even he couldn’t fuck up. They laughed and elbowed each other, and laughed even harder as Brandon dropped one of the bottles and doused himself in gasoline.

Once they had enough, they tripped up the side of the creek, towards the house. The yards were small, which meant with a good arm on ‘em, they could get a few through the windows, if they tried hard enough.

Shannon struck the first match and the scent of burning fabric filled her nose. When she tossed it through the air, she made a wish—like it was a coin in a wishing fountain.

It slammed through the window and she heard someone scream.

Shannon laughed and tossed another. Then another. She wasn’t even paying attention to if Lock threw any at all. When they were out, smoke was drifting through the window, thick and black.

The next day, in the paper, the story didn’t make headlines, but it was there—a little paragraph, like an obituary. Only the mother suffered some second degree burns, but the house was nothing but ashes.

Shannon figured that was enough—considering she’s still here.