#between this and the washing machine i want whoever cursed me to just come beat me up instead that would be less hassle and pain

[dmumt]

why is everything that could possibly go wrong in my life doing just that

[senorarelojes]

Fic: If You Want (1/1)

A while back, I put up a post asking for writing prompts, so I'm slowly making my way through them. This is for the very lovely @what-could-have-been!

Summary: This prompt from @what-could-have-been: "Dave and Alan (who don't know each other yet) coincidentally happen to go to the gym at the same time. Throughout their exercise they keep eyeing each other on different machines. Then they end up in the showers also at the same time (surprise!), Dave drops his soap or something else on the floor and Alan comes to "help". Aaaand you can probably guess the rest... I was also thinking they could be in their mid-20's or so?” Rating: Mature Notes: (In my head, this is early Music for the Masses era DM)

.

Alan liked Ultra Fitness because it was ten minutes away from his workplace, plus it was also along the way home. So it gave him less of an excuse to skip his workouts. Besides, he was already starting to see the results from his frequent visits. His arms were getting nicely sculpted and garnering compliments from the women in his office, and he could see the beginnings of a six pack in the mirror if he held in his stomach enough. So he made it a habit to keep going after work, even though it was more crowded at that timing.

Before he had ever stepped foot in a gym, Alan had been a bit apprehensive about the type of clientele that frequented gyms - for example, those beefy blokes with necks thicker than their heads who looked like they ate guys like Alan for breakfast. But to his surprise, most of the people at Ultra Fitness were nice, friendly and tended to mind their own business, which was a big bonus in Alan’s book. There were also all sorts of regulars, from the afore-mentioned beefy types to those who were just starting out and looked just as nervous as Alan initially had been. But overall, most of them looked like regular people, just like Alan himself.

By now, Alan had definitely become familiar with a few other people at the gym. There was Daryl, the manager at the reception who seemed to know everyone, as well as Martin and Fletch, two friends who mostly came to use the swimming pool or join the Zumba classes. “Great way to meet women,” Fletch had told Alan once with a wink, waggling his eyebrows as Martin had laughed in agreement. Alan had only smiled; he didn’t like flirting with women (or men) at the gym, thinking that people probably didn’t want to be hit on when they were breathless or sweaty. He himself didn’t want to be disturbed: he would just come in, say hello to Daryl as he signed in, grab a locker, pop in his noise-cancelling earbuds and do his workout in peace. That was his routine, and it only ever deviated if he stopped for a chat with Martin and Fletch at the water dispenser.

However, one day he came back from his workout to find a strange tattooed bloke trying to open his locker.

“Er, can I help you?” Alan said, as the man fiddled uselessly with the lock.

He jumped in surprise when Alan spoke to him. “Oh, sorry. I can’t seem to open my locker,” the bloke said, holding up his access card. The lockers at the gym were first come, first serve, and Alan had a special liking for Locker 101, which was located in a far corner, nearer to the shower stalls. Half the time, it wasn’t taken and he was able to grab it for himself. Alan often wondered who was the other person who seemed to like it just as much as he did, and sometimes beat him to it.

Alan flashed the man an apologetic smile. “Sorry mate, think you’re mistaken. It’s mine today,” he explained, holding up his own card to the lock as it whirred for a moment, then clicked open.

“Fuck!” The tattooed bloke was laughing now, face a little red with embarrassment. “Sorry-- it’s just that I usually snag 101, I must have forgotten today.”

“So it’s you,” Alan said with a laugh, before realising the tattooed guy was looking at him with curiosity. “I mean-- never mind.”

The bloke was smiling at him now. He had a really nice smile, which made him look rather boyish even though he seemed to be around Alan’s age. “Well, wish me luck in finding my locker, then,” he said, dropping Alan a wink.

“Good luck, mate.” Alan couldn’t resist watching him walk away in his fitting gym shorts - it was quite a view - as he began taking out his belongings for a shower.

***

After that, Alan began to notice the tattooed bloke around the gym more often. Like Alan, he did a fair bit of weight-lifting, but he also joined the group classes with Martin and Fletch, the three of them chatting and laughing with many of the female regulars after class. Alan found himself watching them at times, wondering how weird it would be for him to ask Mart and Fletch for Tattooed Bloke’s name. Sometimes he would catch Tattooed Bloke watching him in the mirror too, but Alan never seemed to be able to catch him, Martin and Fletch at the right time.

Thankfully, Alan finally learned his name when he was late to the gym one day, finding Daryl already in conversation with Tattooed Bloke at the reception. “Oh hey Charlie,” Daryl said when he spotted Alan, nodding at him as he handed him a towel. “Got held up at the office?”

“Something like that,” Alan replied, glancing over at Tattooed Bloke who was regarding Alan with great interest.

“Your name is Charlie?” he asked, a grin slowly growing on his face. “Was wondering what your name was, but I didn’t peg you for a ‘Charlie’.”

You were wondering what my name was? Alan wanted to ask, but instead he said, “I’m actually Alan, but Daryl got a kick out of my middle name when he did my membership card.”

“C’mon Dave, don’t you agree with me? Doesn’t ‘Charlie’ suit him a lot better than ‘Alan’?” Daryl asked the tattooed bloke, who was just grinning as his gaze rove up and down Alan’s body.

“Dunno, mate,” Dave said, his eyes lingering on Alan’s arms. “A rose by any other name, y’know?”

Daryl rolled his eyes. “You’re useless,” he complained, throwing a towel in Dave’s face as Alan chuckled.

Taking the towel away, Dave seemed hesitant, like he had something else to say to Alan. Unfortunately, the announcement for the start of the Zumba class blared through the gym’s speakers at that moment, leaving Dave grimacing in frustration.

“I’ll see you around, Charlie,” Dave told him with a wave, before he ran off to the dance studio.

***

Now that Alan knew Dave’s name and they’d been sort of introduced, he found himself wondering what would be a non-cheesy way to strike up a conversation with Dave on the gym floor. They would run into each other quite often; if Alan was using the squat rack, Dave would appear soon after and wait for his turn, often offering to spot Alan. Alan wanted to do the same when it came to Dave’s turn, but Dave seemed to have no end of friends at the gym who volunteered to spot him as well, so Alan had no reason to hang around unless he wanted to look like a lecher, drooling over Dave lifting weights.

That didn’t stop him from watching, though. Alan was very, very good at being very, very sneaky, and he used his abilities to his advantage, watching Dave doing deadlifts in the ubiquitous mirrors around the gym, Dave’s tattoos darkened by his sweat, his muscles gleaming as he huffed and pulled on the bar, his perfectly coiffed hair tumbling over his forehead as he bent down to re-rack the weights. Men like Dave were the reason Alan decided he might not be entirely straight, and that his experimentation in uni hadn’t been just a phase.

However, he still lacked the ability to tell if other blokes were straight, gay, bi or whatever else. Alan thought Fletch and Daryl were unequivocally straight, while Martin definitely pinged his gaydar - not that Alan was interested. As for Dave, he was still a huge question mark as far as Alan was concerned. Dave seemed to watch him a lot, but Dave also flirted with the ladies in yoga class as easily as breathing. So Alan decided to mind his own business, unless Dave made a move first.

After a particularly gruelling workout one evening - Alan really hated leg days - he pushed himself to the showers, picking his favourite stall at the corner and draping his towel over the door. The warm water felt like a relief on his shoulders, which were still sore from yesterday’s workout, and he groaned a little as he rolled his shoulders under the hot shower, cracking his neck before he went about shampooing his hair.

He was just done rinsing his hair when he heard someone stepping into the cubicle beside his, shutting the door and starting their own shower. Whoever it was had a nice voice, humming something that sounded like Sigur Ros. Alan listened absently as he slicked his hair with conditioner, wondering if he should get a haircut soon. His hair was getting a little too long to style into a quiff, and he wondered if he should ignore Flood’s advice and get an undercut this time.

He was just done rinsing out the conditioner when he heard someone curse, “Fuck!” as something clattered to the floor, sliding under the partition over to Alan’s stall. It was a bottle of Axe body wash, which the bloke beside him must have dropped.

Alan picked it up, holding it under the partition that separated their stalls. “This yours, mate?” he asked, but the bloke had already stepped out of his stall and was knocking on Alan’s door.

“Sorry, could you pass me my soap?” he asked, and Alan sighed before he stood up, opening the door to hand him the bottle.

His eyes widened when he saw it was a very wet and very naked Dave, who seemed just as surprised - and pleased - when he saw it was Alan. “Oh, it’s you, Charlie.”

Alan couldn’t stop his eyes from roaming even if someone had a gun to his head. He took in the clear view of Dave’s few tattoos, his smooth chest, his tight brown nipples, the heavy cock between his legs. “Uh, this is yours,” Alan said dumbly after a billion years had passed, holding out the bottle of body wash to Dave like a moron.

Dave licked his lips, stepping forward and backing Alan right into his shower stall again. “Mmm, thanks for your help, mate.” Dave was staring openly at Alan’s mouth now, his tongue running over his lower lip. “Reckon you could help me with something else?”

Alan was breathing hard, taking in Dave’s nearness and his brazen confidence, his seeming certainty in Alan’s attraction. “Help you with what?”

Dave finally took the body wash from him, tipping some into his hands and lathering them into a foam, smiling wickedly at Alan as he did so. “Help me soap up my back, yeah? It’s so hard to reach.”

Alan was distantly aware that this felt like some kind of porn scenario, but he couldn’t care less as he grabbed the shower gel from Dave, soaping up his own hands before he leaned in and kissed Dave hungrily, his soapy hands roaming all over Dave’s back. Dave moaned softly into his mouth, his hands running all over Alan’s chest before rubbing at his nipples, making Alan gasp into their kiss.

“Fuck, wanted you for ages,” Dave breathed out before nipping at Alan’s lips again, guiding them both under the stream of water. It was all so slick and hot and steamy, frotting against some handsome stranger in the gym shower stalls where anyone could walk past and hear their moans and gasps. As hard as Alan tried to be quiet, it became impossible when Dave wrapped a soap-slick hand around his cock, pumping him in swift efficient strokes that had Alan’s knees weakening in the shower.

“C’mon, Charlie, c’mon,” Dave whispered against the shell of his ear, his own cock pressed against Alan’s hip, hard and hot and insistent. Alan wanted so badly to wrap his hand around it, put it in his mouth, but he lost all train of thought when Dave bit down on his neck, his hand speeding up on Alan’s cock as he came all over Dave’s stomach in a hushed moan.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” Dave nuzzled against Alan’s cheek with a soft gasp, Alan reaching down for a few clumsy strokes before warm spurts of come landed on his hip, quickly washed away by the stream of water.

They were both panting now, arms loosely wrapped around each other, Dave’s back still covered with soap. Once Alan realised this, he grabbed Dave by the shoulders to angle him towards the water and get it washed off. Dave initially was filled with panic, as though afraid Alan would shove him out of his stall. But once he figured out what Alan was up to, he laughed and pressed a kiss to the side of Alan’s head. His lips felt warm, nice.

“Can I take you out to dinner?” Dave asked quietly, rubbing slow circles over Alan’s shoulder. “I swear I wanted to take you out first before doing this, but-- fuck, you looked so fuckin’ irresistable, mate. All warm and wet, y’know?”

Alan had to chuckle in agreement. “Yeah, I do know.”

Dave pulled away to look at him. His eyes - green? brown? - were serious as they regarded Alan. “So it’s a yes to dinner, then?”

Alan rolled his eyes. “If you haven’t clued in to the fact that I just got you off in the shower, then I don’t know what to say.”

“Idiot.” Dave flashed him a sunny, relieved grin as he ducked out of the shower stall. “I’ll see you outside, then.”

***

Dave was waiting for Alan at the reception counter, chatting animatedly with Martin, Fletch and Daryl. However, he straightened up immediately when he spotted Alan, ignoring all of his friends at a drop of a hat. “Hey Charlie.”

Fletch was frowning deeply in confusion. “Wait, isn’t his name Alan?”

Alan shrugged at Fletch, smiling when Dave came up to him and took his hand in his, making everyone’s eyebrows shoot up to the ceiling. “A rose by any other name, y’know?” Alan quipped, grinning at a stunned Fletch.

“Hey, that’s my line,” Dave said with a laugh, tugging Alan by the hand and out the door. “Don’t wait up, fellas.”

[juju-on-that-yeet]

Old Fears

Whumptober Day 18: Panic! At The Disco Prompt: Panic Attacks/Phobias

Summary: All the Jim Twins meant to do was pull a harmless prank on Yancy. Instead, they brought back Yancy's worst memories.

Warnings: Panic attack, claustrophobia, flashbacks

Read on AO3 (Full Whumptober 2020 series)

Enjoy!

~

Every once in a while, the Jim Twins get the mischievous inclination to prank the other egos.

Nothing serious, nothing harmful, nothing emotionally manipulative. They don’t set up jumpscares or fake their own deaths or do anything malicious. But they’re not above throwing a bath bomb in the washing machine, or putting toothpaste between the two halves on an oreo cookie, or hiding an item belonging to one person in the room of another. While they might cause momentary frustration, they’re forgiven quickly, and never ruin anyone’s day.

Well, usually. The Jims have miscalculated before. But today will be fine! The prank they line up is simple: Once someone walks by their set-up and trips the line, a system of pulleys will go off, pushing them into the hall closet and locking the door behind them. The Jims don’t really know how it works; Bing helped them make it. But regardless, they set their trap up in an often-traveled hallway. Across from the door and the trap, they set up a tiny camera to record what happens, both to see if it works and for humorous posterity. They put a tiny night-vision camera in the closet as well. They don’t intend to keep the person locked in the closet forever, of course; if no one comes by to let them out for a while, the Jims will either do it themselves or ask someone else to do it, depending on who gets trapped. Ed is known to drag the Jims by their ears to Bim to inform him of their misdeeds, so they’ll probably have someone else pull him out of the closet if it happens.

But that doesn’t happen, because not long after they go to their rooms to watch the camera feed on RJ’s laptop, Yancy walks into view.

“Is he gonna…?” asks RJ, vibrating with excitement. CJ watches with equal excitement.

They can see the exact moment Yancy’s foot trips the first wire. He stops and looks down, having felt his foot hit it. That gives the trap’s pulleys enough time to go off, one by one, swinging open the closet door and pushing Yancy in. He yelps as he’s shoved, and the door slams on him and locks as soon as he’s inside.

“Hey!” he yells from the inside. The Jims switch to the feed of the second camera, and watch him jiggle the doorknob and whack the door indignantly. “What the hell?? Lemme out! Whoever did this, youse ass is done for when I get outta here!!”

The Jims can’t help it, they crack up. They laugh so hard that RJ falls out of his chair and CJ snorts hard enough to make his nose feel weird. It takes them a good minute to get themselves under control and return to watching the camera feed, expecting Yancy to be in the process of kicking the door down or cursing up a storm. But he’s doing neither of those things. At first, Yancy just seems bored in there, but the longer the Jims watch, the more concerned they start to get. Eventually, CJ taps RJ’s shoulder to get his attention before signing to him.

“RJ, I think something’s wrong.”

~~~

At first, Yancy is angry.

He doesn’t know who set up this stupid prank, but he’s looking forward to throttling them once he gets out of this closet. He tries the doorknob, tries hitting, even tries kicking. But it doesn’t work; the door is locked tight. As far as he knows, no one else was in the hallway, so he’s stuck here for the time being.

Stuck.

In this locked, dark room.

“Ugh, this is stupid,” he mutters, kicking the door one more time for good measure.

So maybe his heart is beating a little faster, maybe his mind is starting to race. But he knows he’s fine, it’s just a closet. This was just a dumb prank that someone pulled on him, and whoever shoved him in here is probably going to let him out in a few minutes. Yancy can deal with a few minutes.

After all, solitary used to last much longer than a few minutes. He’d be in that windowless room for hours, sometimes days. Once it was even two weeks, and Yancy can’t even remember what he did to deserve it. He only remembers the way the days melted together, how each second began to feel like an hour. He remembers counting cracks in the wall, trying in vain to listen to the conversations happening nearby, just to have any mental stimulation at all. By then, he knew better than to make a fuss while in solitary, but his first few trips to that room were marked by screaming and pounding the door until his throat and fists were raw.

Yancy starts to breathe a little faster, a little shallower.

But this closet is not solitary. There’s some items in it, for one thing: A mop, a bucket, some cleaning sprays and gloves. Yancy doesn’t know for sure how any of it looks, because the room is also dark, another difference from solitary. He feels along the wall but finds no light switch. He supposes that makes sense; the closet is too small to warrant a light inside. That’s the last difference between this and solitary: The room for solitary wasn’t huge, but it was big enough to pace around in, at least. This closet is hardly big enough to take a few steps in any direction.

The more Yancy thinks about it, just because this situation is different from solitary doesn’t make it better. He tries the doorknob again. No luck. The room is too dark, it’s too cramped.

“Hey,” he says, trying to put some power and anger into his voice, “Let me out! Lemme outta here right now! When I find out who youse are I’m gonna knock ya into next Tuesday, I swear!!”

“Don’t make threats like that,” says a voice in the back of his mind, unbidden, “The guards don’t like that, it’ll only make them keep you here longer.”

Yancy shakes his head, trying to dispel the thought. This isn’t solitary. This isn’t solitary. But the room is so dark he’s forced to imagine what he sees. He tries the door again. He whacks it with his hand.

“Let me out of here,” he gasps, words coming out softer and weaker than he intended to.

It’s too dark in here. He can’t see anything at all. It’s too enclosed. Yancy can hardly move. He can’t even pace. The room is too small, too hard to see through. He tries the door again. And again. He hits it. He hits it again. His breathing gets shallower, his heart beats faster. He grabs the sides of his head, trying to get a grip. He staggers backwards, lightheaded, but bumps into the bucket and nearly falls over. The room is so small that the arm he throws out to catch himself hits the wall and keeps himself standing. A whimper escapes his throat.

This isn’t solitary. This is worse.

With sudden ferocity, Yancy throws himself at the door, pounding relentlessly.

“Lemme out!!” he screams, “Lemme out, please! This ain’t funny anymore, get me out! Out, please, I have to get out–”

His words are cut off by his own sob. He slides down against the door as tears keep coming. He doesn’t want to cry, the guards always make fun of him for crying. But he can’t make them stop. He knows he’ll be in even more trouble for causing a fuss, and it only makes him cry harder. He can’t even remember what he did. What did he do? Why is he stuck here?? But it doesn’t really matter, he knows that. He crawls to the back of the closet to sit in the back, staring at the door, crying and waiting for the guards to let him out.

It happens sooner than he thinks it will. The door opens, and Yancy blinks against the light. He hurriedly wipes his face, trying to remove the evidence of tears from his face, despite still crying. It takes him a moment to realize that the door hasn’t opened to Happy Trails, that it’s not a guard or Warden Murderslaughter who’s opened the door.

The open door shows a hallway of Ego Inc. Standing in the doorway is Illinois, panting a little like he ran to get here, eyes full of fear and worry.

Yancy starts crying harder again.

“Oh, angel,” Lio murmurs, coming into the closet to pull Yancy into his arms, “You’re alright, Yancy, you’re safe. You’re in Ego Inc., you’re home. I’m right here.” He stands, pulling Yancy up with him. “C’mon, let’s get out of this closet.”

Yancy lets Lio put an arm around him and lead him out of the closet. That’s when Yancy realizes Lio isn’t the only one who’s come here; the Jims are standing in the hallway, nervously looking at Yancy, sadness and guilt written all over their faces. Yancy wipes his face again, trying to stop his tears. He hates crying in front of people, he hates being weak. He feels Lio kiss his temple and squeeze his shoulders before hearing him address the Jims.

“I hope you’ve learned your lesson,” he says icily.

“We have, Adventure Jim!” RJ exclaims. Yancy takes his hands away from his face in time to see CJ nod in agreement.

“Anything else you want to say?” Lio asks.

The twins look down nervously, then look at Yancy, eyes big and sad.

“We’re sorry, Prison Jim,” RJ says earnestly, “We didn’t know you’d get so upset. It…It was supposed to be a silly prank. ”

“We didn’t mean to hurt you,” CJ signs, “We’re really, really sorry.”

The Jims did this. They were the ones who locked him in that godforsaken closet. For a prank.

A rush of anger, of shame, of embarrassment cuts through Yancy’s lingering panic. He’s lunging out of Lio’s hold and punching RJ in the face before he can think twice about it. RJ cries out and stumbles back, hands coming up to his now-bleeding nose. CJ grabs him to keep from falling over at the same time Lio puts an arm in front of Yancy to keep him from punching again.

“Hey! Hey,” Lio says, keeping his voice steady and calming, “That’s enough, Yancy, they didn’t know any better. Let’s get out of here, alright?”

Yancy’s burst of anger fades quickly, leaving him exhausted. There’s suddenly nothing he wants to do more. He lets Lio lead him away, not bothering to look back at the Jims. He doesn’t regret punching RJ, but he doesn’t feel self-righteous about it either. He’s just tired and trembling and still crying just a little.

Lio takes Yancy to Yancy’s own bedroom. Yancy’s bedroom is not like solitary at all, and it’s not like the closet, either. Lio turns the light on and closes the door, but doesn’t lock it from the inside. Yancy sits on his bed, lets the familiar feeling start to ground him. The theater posters on his wall help, too. But most helpful is Lio, who comes to sit beside him. He puts an arm around Yancy again, kisses his hair.

“I’ll stay here as long as you need, alright?” he murmurs, “Whatever you want from me, I’ll do, sweetheart.”

All Yancy wants is to bury his face in Lio’s chest, and for Lio to wrap his arms around him in the only tight space that doesn’t make Yancy afraid.

So Yancy does, and Lio does, and they stay that way for a long while.

[editorbea]

Cling To Each Other Chapter 5

I’m trying out a new way of uploading these to tumblr! I’m trying to write this consistently, but I’m also trying to-- y’know-- not fail every one of my classes. Bad excuse, I know. Hope you lot enjoy!

AO3

Warnings: None

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

The next several hours were entirely uneventful, which would have been nice if it wasn’t for the whirlwind in Fundy’s head. It didn’t help that Techno had seemingly turned him the cold shoulder. The Piglin hybrid sat on his bed, facing the wall, entirely engrossed in his reading, red blanket draped loosely about his shoulders.

It wasn’t that Fundy couldn’t understand where Techno was coming from. He understood hostility, the holding of grudges, the breaking of trust, it was all familiar waters. What he couldn’t understand was the inability to push all of that aside for the sake of pure decency.

How far would you have to be pushed to do that to someone? To hate someone so much that you would take their life before helping them? Fundy pushed the thoughts down. It didn’t matter, anyway. He wouldn’t have to find out.

Fundy had no plans to fight.

Screw Techno. Screw stupid humans and their stupid cities and their penchants for causing pain. He hated every last one of them. He was going to leave and never come back.

Unfortunately, that seemed easier said than done.

He stood, stretching, his mattress making an obnoxious creaking noise as he got up. Techno seemed to tense at the sudden noise, but didn’t turn to look at him. Fundy approached the bars, placing his forehead against them, staring out into the cell block. He remembered from his few ventures into the block that the cells were somewhat staggered, placed at intervals back and forth across both walls, but if he got close enough to the bars he could see both of the cells across the room to the left and right. He couldn’t see any residents, though. He mentally jotted down a reminder to check if there was anyone in either cell.

“What are you looking at?” Techno’s low voice cut through the silence, making Fundy jump.

“The other cells.”

“What for?”

Fundy turned, scowling at Techno’s back. “Maybe I’m looking for a conversation partner.”

“I wouldn’t blame you.”

He sat down on his bed with a bit more force than was probably necessary. Techno’s unshakable-ness might have been an act, but the monotony that he seemed to surround himself with was certainly irritating.

Somewhat disconcerting, too.

“You’re hard to talk to.”

“So I’ve been told.”

Fundy swung his feet back and forth, scuffing the toes of his boots on the cement in a rhythmic stutter. “Don’t you have emotions?”

After a beat of silence, Techno let out a long sigh and turned to look at Fundy over his shoulder. “We have a conversation. You don’t like what I have to say. You snap at me. I take this as an indication that you no longer want to talk. Four hours later, you try to strike up conversation again. Do you see why I’m avoiding you? Avoiding this?” He gestured vaguely between himself and Fundy.

Fundy scowled down at his hands, picking at a nail to avoid looking at Techno. He felt bad for snapping, but it seemed justified. In fact, it still seemed justified. He wasn’t sure quite why he felt bad-- it wasn’t like he owed Techno any particular kindness.

Then again, he could have easily been worse to Fundy. He had shown him around, walked him through his first day, talked to him after he had a nightmare (as desperately irritating as that had been).

“So what do you want me to say?” Techno turned back to the wall. “I’ll leave you alone. It’s no skin off my back.”

“Your hair,” Fundy said suddenly.

Well, that certainly got his attention. Techno turned back around, raising one eyebrow. “My hair?”

“I like… your hair.” Fundy could feel his inner organs melting from embarrassment. He hadn’t really meant to say it, but he was looking for something, anything, to keep Techno talking. The silence in the cell felt oppressive. Heavy.

“Thank you?” Techno’s attention was now fully focused on Fundy, dark eyes glinting in the dingy lantern light.

“I mean-- the braid.” Fundy motioned dumbly to Techno’s head. “Did you do it yourself?”

Techno’s bewildered expression had thawed somewhat, settling into an expression of barely-concealed fondness. “Yeah.”

Words died in Fundy’s mouth, and her looked back down at his hands. He cursed his mind for being so incapable of conversation, but he supposed that was just a side effect of being a forest-bound recluse. Say something, anything-

“Want me to teach you?”

Fundy’s gaze snapped up, back to Techno, whose mouth had turned up slightly at one corner.

“Yes- yeah. Yeah, that would be cool.”

Techno climbed out of his bed, sitting down on the floor. Fundy copied him, sitting on the cold cement cross-legged. Techno carefully extracted a part of his hair, pulling it free from the braid and letting it hang down in front of his face. “So you start by sectioning it into three parts--”

He showed Fundy the left-over-middle-right-over-middle pattern, doing it a couple times until Fundy insisted he had the hang of it, then let Fundy try. The first few times, he messed up, hopelessly knotting Techno’s hair, but after the fourth or fifth attempt, he got the pattern down, painstakingly threading his pink hair into a tiny braid.

“Not bad,” Techno commended, his smile just big enough to show the tips of his sharp teeth.

“That takes forever,” Fundy complained, massaging his fingers, which were tingling from keeping the braid pinned in place.

“Not if you’ve got practice,” Techno replied, leaning back against the side of his bed.

“Okay, then you do it.” Fundy did the same, stretching his neck. His back was already stiff from sitting on the floor, but he didn’t really mind. As obnoxiously meticulous it was, Fundy liked braiding Techno’s hair. The constant pattern and looping of the hair made his brain quiet down into a comfortable hum.

Techno squinted at Fundy for a moment, as if deciding whether to take out his braid to prove his intolerable cellmate wrong was worth it, before sighing, pulling the rubber band out of his hair and letting his hair tumble free.

Fundy’s eyes widened a bit as Techno shook out his hair and combed his hands through it. Out of the braid, his hair was even longer. If he was standing up, Fundy would have guessed it would’ve fallen to his waist.

Techno pulled the hair over one shoulder, deftly pulling it into three parts and starting to weave them together. He made it look deceptively easy, fingers passing the strands to each other like a loom or a well-oiled machine.

“Where did you learn to do that?”

Techno stopped for a moment, then cleared his throat and continued. “My father taught me to do it. He used to get so angry, because I’d go running through the woods and get mud and leaves and grass in my hair, and it would take forever to wash and clean, so he said it was more manageable to keep it like this.”

Fundy blinked. “The woods?”

Techno nodded, already close to finished with his braid. “I grew up there.”

Fundy wasn’t sure why he was so surprised. Techno had never mentioned growing up in the city-- for that matter, he hadn’t mentioned his childhood at all-- so there was no reason for Fundy to assume he had always lived in the city. Still, it was strange to hear Techno say it.

“So did I,” he agreed, watching Techno loop the rubber band around the end of the braid. “Wait, show me how to do that--”

About an hour later, after their conversation had faded into a comfortable lull and they had both huddled back into bed, blankets wrapped tightly around them to block out the damp chill, they received their third guard visit of the day. Techno seemed in no rush this time, waiting for the guard to move on before unfolding from his blanket and reaching for his boots. Fundy hadn’t bothered to take his off after coming back from the fight, which Techno had complained about for some fifteen minutes (You’re gonna get all kinds of dust and grime in your sheets. We don’t get showers enough as it is, you might as well try to keep your bed clean).

“Where are we going?” Fundy braced for some absurd answer, which wouldn’t be out of line considering the day’s events, but Techno simply responded, “Dinner.”

The duo made their way out of the cell. As they left, Fundy glanced into one of the cells visible from their own. For some reason, he was surprised to see that it was occupied. There was one girl, with short, light-colored hair, sporting a black shirt, jeans with mismatched patches on the knees, a dark blue jacket and boots that Fundy quickly clocked as hiking boots.

Techno caught him staring and elbowed him. “That’s Niki.”

Fundy quickly looked away before the girl-- Niki-- caught him as well. He had noticed other girls, sure, but they all looked rough, rugged and muscular. Niki certainly didn’t look like the fighting type, not by a long shot.

“She’s a rabbit hybrid.” Techno answered Fundy’s unspoken thought.

“A rabbit?” Fundy cringed at the doubt dripping from his voice.

“Sheesh, kid, with that attitude you might as well go ahead and condemn yourself too.”

“What’s that supposed to--” One look from Techno silenced Fundy’s offended jab.

“She’s fast. Like, really fast. Whoever lines up matches always ends up putting her with people bigger than her, and slower by that measure. She’s won two fights, one a-”

“Do you just have mental tabs on everyone here?” Fundy prodded as they moved into the atrium, nose twitching at the smell of something emulating chili. His stomach grumbled.

“Not everyone, but it’s not every day you see a rabbit hybrid that can-- y’know-- actually fight.”

Fundy shrugged. He supposed that was fair.

Techno led him to one of the cafeteria counters. The mixture stewing in the massive, industrial-sized pot actually looked and smelled rather good, a mixture of beans, rice, meat and veggies engulfed in a reddish-brown broth. Both boys took a bowl, heading off towards the same table they had sat at during breakfast.

“Is this usually where you sit?” Fundy stirred his bowl, working up the courage to take a bite.

Techno pointed up at the third-story walkway with his spoon. “I usually sit up there. By the door I showed you.”

“Oh. Why?”

“Not a people person.”

Decent answer. Fundy finally gave in, taking a tentative bite of the… chili? It burned his tongue for a moment, still steaming hot, but once it cooled down enough for him to taste it, he was surprised at how good it was. Techno must have noticed his expression, because he said, “They have to keep us well-fed. If we were all sick and hungry, we wouldn’t fight very well.”

Fundy scarfed down his bowl in five minutes flat. Techno watched in amusement, not talking for once to let him eat in peace. “Don’t make yourself sick.”

The two talked for some fifteen minutes, Techno telling stories about almost everyone that passed by their table. With every minute that passed, Fundy became more sure that Techno really did have tabs on everyone in the ring. He found himself becoming more relaxed, bantering with Techno more easily, firing back at every jab.

Things were going surprisingly well-- until Techno’s eyes darted over to Fundy’s left, locking on something as his face fell. Fundy knew who it was before he even turned. He felt a hand lock onto his shoulder, and he turned, staring up into the face of Pandas, the day’s victor. His right eye was ringed with a faint purple bruise, and his bottom lip was split, sporting a nasty red wound, but otherwise he hardly looked any worse for the wear.

“Evening, boys!” His victory seemed to have made him braver. He grinned widely at Techno. “Enjoy the show?”

“It wasn’t bad,” Techno answered coolly. “I would’ve liked to see you get pummelled a bit more, but I guess you get what you pay for.”

Pandas’ grip on Fundy’s shoulder tightened almost imperceptibly. “Oh, and you have paid, haven’t you?”

“I’ve paid about a dozen times over, yeah.” Techno leaned back in his chair, eyes glowering dangerously.

“And what about your friend?” The posse of hybrids that seemed to follow Pandas collectively snickered, sounding not unlike a pack of hyenas. “Has he paid yet?”

“He will,” Techno answered, eyes still focused on Pandas. Fundy felt his heart drop into his stomach. What the hell did that mean?

“Now seems like as good of a time as any, doesn’t it?” Pandas clapped Fundy on the shoulder, and Fundy felt his pulse quicken.

“Let’s not make a scene.” Techno hadn’t made any shift in tone or temperament, but Fundy felt a slight change in tension. Maybe Pandas felt it too, because he took the smallest step backwards, fingers still digging into Fundy’s shoulder. Somewhere in the back of his mind, Fundy registered that that was the same place the man had gripped him when he dragged him down that alleyway. Was that only two nights ago? Maybe that was why the spot was so sore.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Fantastic.”

“But you know it’s tradition. He’s going to get it at some point.”

“Why don’t you politely fuck off?” Techno spoke the words with such hushed venom that Fundy thought he might have misheard him.

Pandas hesitated for a moment, before letting his hand drop to his side. “So you’ve adopted the foxboy, huh? Never took you for a softie, Blade.”

“Leave.” Techno’s eyes had darkened to such a degree that Fundy felt palpable rage in the air, sending his alarm bells into a swinging frenzy. “Now.”

Pandas laughed, although it sounded ever-so-slightly forced. “Enjoy your meal.” With that, he turned, taking his crew with him. For the second time that day, Fundy watched him recede into the crowd until he was swallowed by the clamor.

“What was th-” Fundy turned back around, cutting himself off as he realized Techno had already gotten to his feet, marching off towards the staircase-stepladder. He cursed under his breath, quickly clambering out of his seat, tossing his plastic bowl into the trash and half-jogging after him.

[softforimjaebum]

죄라 (2)

Im Jaebum x Reader

Word Count: 6.8k

Genre: Angst, Smut

Summary: Reader wakes up to a day full of surprise; but no one ever said all surprises have to be good, right?

Author’s Note: I could only listen to defsoul’s mixtape while writing this, and it’s probably a mess of my own emotions, I’m sorry in advance and thank you for reading!

Chapter 1

You woke up the next morning, pleasantly sore from the night before and alone, just as you had expected. It wasn’t anything new, so it didn’t faze you to fall asleep in a warm bed and wake up in a cold one. The sheets on his side still smelled of him, they always did when he left. And it was a routine you followed to wash your sheets after the fact. It wasn’t helpful to the kind of relationship the two of you had to have your sheets smelling like him.

It wasn’t like you were madly in love with him, but you knew deep down that you felt more for him than just this lust you showed him. And maybe he felt the same. But the two of you were very similar in how easily you could repress feelings. It would be impossible to know if he had those feelings for you too, and neither of you would ever risk it unless there was some solid proof to do otherwise. And even then, with his lifestyle, you didn’t really think it was possible to be anything more than what he was currently giving you. And so he hadn’t ever over stayed his welcome, and neither had you ever tried to make him stay.

But today was a Sunday, and it was probably early in the morning judging from how dark it was outside, it wouldn’t harm you to just indulge yourself in not washing your sheets yet. You could just always do it later in the day.

You could feel yourself drifting back to sleep when you heard a loud noise. It sounded like something smashing on the floor, and you shot out of your bed and threw on the nearest t-shirt you found thrown carelessly into the laundry basket. Then you reached for the baseball bat kept in the little hidden corner between your closet and the wall. There was supposed to be no one in the house, your roommate had gone to spend the night at her boyfriend’s house and you knew they had a better, a more romantic if you will, Sunday planned than yours.

If Jaebum left the door open, I swear to god I will cut him.

With that thought, you tightened your grip on the bat you opened the door as slowly as possible, trying to peak into the lounge to see if you could see any traces of where exactly the intruder was. When you fully pulled the door open, you found your lounge empty. However, you could hear noises in your kitchen.

Why was the intruder in your kitchen? Who the fuck was robbing your fucking kitchen of all places to rob?

Moving to grip the bat with both hands, you slightly lifted it in anticipation of having to knock out whoever was trying to rob…your kitchen.

Just as you turned the corner of your kitchen doorway, heart beating so fast it could leap out of your chest any second, you were met with a very hassled Jaebum, scrambling to pick up the pieces of the two plates he had broken. When you came into his view, he froze, staring up at you with wide eyes.

You asked him the first question that popped up in your mind, and it wasn’t about the plates he had broken.

“What….are you doing here?”

He wasn’t supposed to be here, he was not supposed to outstay his welcome; and his welcome only extended to you fall asleep in his arms, never waking up to him in your kitchen…-burning an omelette as you now noticed.

He smelled the burning too and tired to get up to turn the stove off, but you told him to take care of the plates and took care of the stove yourself.

“I was making breakfast” he said, still trying to throw the pieces into the bin nearby. “The more important question is why do you have a baseball bat in your hand? Are you going to hit me with that just for breaking two plates?”

You sighed, dropped the bat to the ground as you tried to salvage the unsalvageable omelette, and answered, “I thought it was a burglar”

You hoped he wouldn’t ask why you thought he was a thief because answering him would make things way more awkward than you were currently feeling. And thankfully, he got the hint. He didn’t press any further, and both of you continued doing your respective tasks at hand.

Jaebum successfully cleaned the kitchen, making sure there were no broken crumbs left on the floor, everyone knew about your habit of walking barefoot in the house. However, the egg was well and truly doomed, so you gave up on trying to save it half way through and just scrapped it into the bin to start making another one.

When Jaebum saw you finishing up, he handed you another egg.

“You eat two eggs in the morning?”

“It is for you” he said, just slightly confused at your question.

“Oh no, I am not a breakfast person. I just have coffee”

He looked shocked for what you could swear was an entire minute before he spoke up to scold you in his dad voice.

“But breakfast is the most important meal, you have to eat in the morning before you go out for the day”

Little did he know, his dad voice didn’t work on you. There was only one authoritative voice he could pull off with you and it was not nearly as innocent as this one.

“Ehh” you replied as you moved to a nearby cabinet to grab two mugs to pour the coffee that Jaebum had thankfully already started.

“That is not an answer” he said, blocking you from reaching for your coffee. It was too early in the morning, and you hadn’t had your first cup of coffee which meant you did not have the patience for him right now, but moreover you did not have the energy to fight him.

“I never had time to eat breakfast when I was in school, so its a habit now. I can’t eat in the morning without wanting to throw up. Now can you move so I can get my sustenance?”

He didn’t budge instantly, he just slowly moved to the side, only giving you enough space to squeeze in between him and the counter to reach for the coffee. He just kept lingering as you poured the coffee out for both of you, and something about it felt extremely foreign to you.

It’s the daylight your mind reminded you. You aren’t used to seeing him being like this without in daylight.

Pushing your thoughts away, you moved away from him and took a seat on the small dining table you had fit into the kitchen. He followed suit with his breakfast in hand and sat right next to you.

God damn him and this strange behaviour

You were cursing yourself for not bringing your phone with you, regardless of the kind of situation you came downstairs in, because this was very unusual for you. The contact that the two of you had inside company walls were entirely professional, and people would more likely believe you were fucking Jackson than believe you were fucking him. You were currently awkward around him to the point where you didn’t know what the hell to do with your limbs.

Jaebum, on the other hand, wasn’t awkward at all, munching away happily at his eggs on toast and occasionally pausing to take a sip of his coffee. And if he was awkward, he surely didn’t let it on. All you could do was sip your coffee, look down into your mug when you weren’t sipping from it, and pray to god he would finish his breakfast and leave as soon as possible.

But of course, the earth would crack open and satan himself would come to your house for tea sooner than your prayers getting answered. Once Jaebum was finished eating, he showed no signs of hurry. Instead, he took his utensils to the sink and started washing up after himself at a leisurely pace.

Unable to bear the discomfort any longer, you decided to head back to your room and make yourself useful by putting your sheets in the washing machine.

“I’m gonna go back to my bedroom” you quietly spoke as you hurried away from the kitchen.

Once in the comfort of your room, you breathed a sigh of relief. Even though he was still in your kitchen, you were away from that situation for a while; hopefully just long enough to gather your thoughts.

The first thing you did was to wash your face and brush your teeth, just to feel like an actual living person which was far from what you were feeling when you can walked back to your room.

Going out of your bathroom, you stopped at the mini closet, pausing to select new sheets and then made your way to the bed. Quickly stripping off the older sheets from your bed you threw it onto the floor, to be picked up when you were done making your bed. It didn’t take you long to put the new sheets on and carry the old ones into the small balcony attached to your bathroom where you kept your washing machine.

Once you put the sheets in, you stood there, staring outside, lost in your thoughts; that is until you felt a pair of arms wrapping around your stomach and pulling you back.

You instantly knew it was Jaebum, who else would it be? But it wasn’t just because of that fact that you knew it was him, you could smell exactly what you were trying to wash away from your sheets behind you. What was worse is him being like this. Cuddling was kept to a minimum, and it was always kept as an after care for when things inevitably got rough with him.

He pulled you towards him and rested his head on your shoulders before he spoke up.

“So eager to wash me off your sheets?”

His words were nothing but a whisper, and it sent chills down your back and your arms because while it was just a whisper, his tone was something else entirely. You knew what that tone suggested, but what he was saying in that tone was unfamiliar to you.

He seemed to want an actual response to his question, which also was not usually the case when he used that tone with you. Your mind was scrambling to look for a response which did not let on just how eager you were to not just wash him off your sheets but get him out of door right now. You couldn’t let him in on your weaknesses and your coping mechanisms.

“I just wanted new sheets on the bed, it’s got nothing to do with you”

Yes, great job, amazing, the award for the lamest fucking excuse in the world goes to yours truly

You knew that both of you knew your answer was a whole pile of bullshit, but Jaebum didn’t question you any further and you didn’t dare bring anything up. You stood in the same position, him refusing to move and you being too confused to think straight. Instead of asking you questions he knew you would give equally bad responses to, he busied himself with placing feathery kisses down your neck and the exposed skin of your shoulders.

And then his lips were travelling back up the road they went down, just a tiny bit harsher. He let his teeth scrape over that one spot on your neck that he knew was your weakness and you knew you had to stop him now, or you would be far too lost in him to realise what on earth was happening.

“Jaebum, please stop” you tried to warn.

“Stop what?” he said, as he continued to place kisses on your neck, sloppier and needier kisses.

“You know exactly what”

“Maybe I don’t want to stop”

His hands took this opportunity to busy themselves by sneaking under the shirt you were wearing, going straight to your breasts. He would usually grabbed a handful in each hand and massage them or pinch your nipples until you were a moaning mess begging him to stop. But this time he just felt them up, his fingers lingering on your skin and on the curve of your breasts and down your sides, as if trying to remember every dip and curve of your body.

It was strange for him to be this delicate with you, and in the back of your mind you knew that all too well, but his hands and his lips were getting you closer and closer to the point of no return.

Your mind was practically screaming at you to push him away, to do anything to make him stop; but when he turned you around to face him, you simply let him. He kissed from your jaw, up to your lips; soft, lingering kisses that left you breathless.

He led you out of your bathroom, towards your freshly made bed and carefully pushed you back on it until you laid down on your bed. He didn’t join you; instead he took his shirt off, and went straight to kissing your legs, all the way up to your inner thighs.

He nipped occasionally on the soft skin, but other than that, he only prepped your skin with lingering kisses, never letting his lips get anywhere near where he knew you needed him. It got to a point where you couldn’t deal with his teasing and bucked your hips up to let him know you were getting impatient.

“Look at you, always so ready” he said.

Before you could reply, he placed a single kiss right on your clit and all you could manage to respond with a strangled moan.

You could feel him smile against you as he continued his ministrations; slowly dragging his tongue on your clit, never increasing the pressure or the speed. It was slow enough to buck against his mouth again, only to be held down by his arms. You knew this game too well, you just had to take what he was giving you, however he was giving it to you.

To your surprise, he actually stopped teasing you. He got off the bed, quickly getting rid of his pants and grabbing a condom from the stash kept inside the drawer of your bedside table.

You were still confused about what was happening and how you got here, but it would be a lie if you said you weren’t enjoy this needier side of Jaebum. He was usually the one with all the patience in the world to tease you all night, but he seemed like the eager one today; and your body welcomed that change.

You snapped out of your thoughts when you felt Jaebum’s hand on your thighs again, focusing on him again to see that he had rolled the condom on, and was making his way back between your thighs.

There was no teasing, no making you beg for him until he was satisfied. He just slowly slid into you, burying his face in the crook of your neck. He moved just as slowly as he his tongue had been moving, making you frustrated at his pace.

You were chasing your orgasm, but he had very different plans. He moved so he could kiss you as he moved slow and deep inside you, wanting to make you feel every small movement he made.

But just because Jaebum was suddenly taking things slow didn’t mean you weren’t the usual mess you were for him. You could feel each and every one of his thrusts in every part of your body. And it was overwhelming, the feeling in the pit of your stomach was threatening to spill over and yet it was seemingly so far away.

You hands were tangled in his hair, not pulling on them like usual, just holding him. When he stopped kissing you to catch his breath, you ran your fingers through his hair, caressing him however you could. He leaned into your touch, the slightly sharpness in his thrust indicated he liked this just as much as he liked it when you pulled on his hair.

“Please Jaebum, faster, you’re killing me here” you whispered, barely audible to your own ears and for a moment you wondered if you were loud enough for him to even hear you.

“No…I just don’t want this to fucking end” he whispered back, causing you to feel a new rush, one that neither of you had experienced with each other.

At his words one of your hands came down from his hair onto his shoulders and down his arms, nails scratching his skin lightly as you took him.

“Please” you breathed, and he just shook his head, stubborn as always.

For a while after that, you were both a mess in each other’s arms. Jaebum wanting to make it last as long as he possible could, you were tangled, holding onto each other for dear life. He didn’t stop kissing you until both of your jaws hurt, and even then he lazily continued to kiss you wherever he could. He kissed every bruise and bite he had left behind the night before, over and over again.

You could feel your impending orgasm close in on you, and when you tried to warn Jaebum about it, for the sake of the habit of always warning him when you got too close and needed him to slow down or to tell you you could cum, he beat you to it.

“You know I can feel that you’re close right? So tight, always so good for me”

You arched into Jaebum even more, if that was even possible anymore. He didn’t say anything, just brought his hand down to your clit, rubbing slow and precise circles, still not rushed to help you finish but not entirely opposed to it either.

You hoped he wasn’t going to just stop and bring you down from your high, and so you found yourself getting even more lost in what he was making you feel. One particularly deep thrust, and you came, with nothing but a loud intake of breath, holding onto Jaebum’s neck and probably even digging your nails into his skin. It wasn’t an explosion like you were used to, it was like a knot unwinding itself. It was less falling and more being suspended in air, just flying.

Jaebum followed suit, losing himself in his own orgasm a few more thrusts later, kissing you lazily again and again until you both came down from your highs.

He pulled out, disposing of the condom, and got in bed again. He pulled your body towards himself, which now felt limp after what you just experienced, kept his head on your stomach and wrapped his arms around you. You were far too dazed and tired to question any of his moves, and simply let him cuddle into you before you drifted off to sleep.

You were woken up by what you presumed to be Jaebum’s phone ringing considering your phone was presumably already out of battery, after all you hadn’t seen it since last night or remembered to put it on charge. You winced slightly at how loud his ringtone was, but you suppose when living with people as loud as the rest of GOT7 he maybe needed a loud ringtone.

You were surprised, yet again, when you realised Jaebum was still in bed with you; and not just in bed with you. He was still wrapped around your stomach, now detaching himself from you to look for his phone.

He found it in the pocket of his discarded jeans, clearing his throat before picking up his phone. You decided this would be a good time to get out of bed, and to look for your own phone. The slight anxiety of not having checked your phone for so many hours was slightly settling in; what if someone had been in an emergency and called you?

You crawled forward on your bed to find your t-shirt, discarded around the same place as Jaebum’s jeans, which were now in his hands. He was putting his jeans on, while talking in a hush voice to whoever was on the phone, his back towards you. Quickly picking up your t-shirt, you pulled it over your head and started looking for your phone. You found it quickly enough, on the little desk you had by the window of your bedroom. You were right in assuming it would be out of battery, and moved to your bedside table to put your phone on charge.

“I’ll be back in a minute” Jaebum said, now turned around towards you.

You nodded at him and he rushed out, you figured it was a work call and sat on your bed, on his side, and turned your phone back on. You were immersed in checking the notifications on your phone, you hadn’t missed anything too important; the messages were mostly from your friends and they weren’t many, a social media notification here and there. You felt yourself relax a little at the thought of not having missed anything too important.

Jaebum returned to your room, finding you sitting on what had been his side of the bed for the past couple of hours.

His side of the bed. He liked that thought, he didn't know why but he did. He was surprising himself doing whatever he was doing today, but for once, it felt so right to do those things that he didn’t question his impulses. Just like he didn’t question his impulse now to go over and kiss you. He knew that kissing you was reserved to moments the two of you were in bed, or heading that way. He also knew kissing you like this was against the unspoken rules the two of you had. But he did it anyway.

When you felt Jaebum’s presence near you again, you looked up at him. He was shirtless, his jeans hanging low on his waist, his hair was messy and he had a shit eating grin on his face when you looked at him. When he reached your bed, he leaned down and placed a chaste kiss on your lips before plopping down on the bed. You looked over at him, extremely confused.

“What’s gotten into you today?” you asked, unable to stop yourself.

“Nothing” he beamed up at you. “So…I was wondering if you were up to go party with all of us tonight?”

“All of us?” you questioned

“Yeah, the boys and I are headed to this party tonight, if you want to, you could come along with us? I mean, you don’t have to of course but I thought it would be nice”

You could tell he was nervous, having worked around GOT7 when you first joined the company you knew he rambled when he was nervous. You thought about it for a second, it wouldn’t be so bad. You were friends with all of them, and you hadn’t had the chance to really meet them in a while. A party with those extremely noisy, loveable boys could only do you good right?

“Yeah sure, it’ll be fun. Where are you guys headed to?”

“Its this private party at nb2 , I’ll pick you up around 9?”

“You…want to pick me up? And go to a party with me?” you wondered out loud.

“..Yes” he said, and made a puzzled expression at your question.

You could think of a lot to say, but none of it felt appropriate for the mood. Before you could vocalise any of your thoughts, he intervened.

“But, for now, I need to leave. I’m gonna head back to the dorm, freshen up and then there is a group meeting at the new company building…work stuff. But I’ll call you when I’m done okay?”

“I guess?”

He picked his shirt from the ground and quickly pulled it over his head as he headed out of your room with you following suit.

He wore his shoes hurriedly, and pulled your main door open. Before he left, however, he turned back around and kissed you again, his lips gentle on yours and with that, he rushed out.

You realised soon after that you were hungry, and that you had half dried sheets in your washing machine.

You decided to eat first, as your stomach at this point was grumbling loudly, cursing at you for forgetting to eat for so long. You went about your day, pushing the thoughts of what had happened with Jaebum to the back of your mind. You knew thinking about it too much would only result in confusion and feelings you simply did not want to deal with.

So you got on with your day, cooked for yourself, ate while watching episode after episode of Brooklyn Nine Nine. When the sun was beginning to set, you got up to wash whatever utensils had been used and went on to put your sheets in the dryer.

Then you got back to your Netflix, the weird anxiety in your stomach was making you feel queasy and you thought distracting yourself would be the only way to make it through the evening. And that is when your phone rang.

JB calling…

You sighed, and almost debated whether you wanted to pick his phone or not. You could always just say you were taking a bath and left your phone in the living room.

“Hello?”

“Hey, I hope I’m not disturbing you or anything”

“No, not at all”

“So uhm, you still up for coming out with us tonight, right?”

You were so not used to this that your answers just automatically coming out short and to the point.

“If you still want me to, yes”

“Of course I do. I was just calling to check in. And to remind you to eat before we leave, I know you don’t handle alcohol very well on an empty stomach” he chuckled as he remembered a particular memory.

“It was one time, Im Jaebum. When will you ever let me forget it?” you whined, you hated being reminded of that night.

It really was just one fucking time and Jaebum took every chance he got to tease you about it. So what if you had thrown up on his favourite jacket, you were slightly sick and you hadn’t had a single mean since your late morning bowl of ramen. And yes, you had a little too much to drink. And it wasn’t even that much. And you had taken it upon yourself to make sure you returned a clean jacket back to him.

You heard him laugh, hearty and warm.

“Just eat okay?”

“Just stop okay?”

Jaebum chuckled again and went on “I’ll be there at 9 babe”

With that, he hung up.

Did he just…..no, you were surely mistake. He must have said 바보 (babo; stupid) and you misheard him.

You decided on eating the leftovers from the lunch you made while you took a bath, after which you started getting ready, which in your opinion was always a pain in the ass. You had no trouble getting ready for a normal day, but for night outs it was always a bargain between comfort and looking fine as fuck. You ended up just putting on a dress which leaned a little more towards looking fine as fuck than it did towards comfort; however for your footwear, your mind was set on your favourite pair of black boots, comfort trumped sexy any day when it came to being on the dance floor in a club and feeling like your feet wanted to die in the heels.

As promised, Jaebum was on your doorstep at 9pm. He rang the bell, and you were just about done with your makeup, finishing up your red lip just in the nick of time as you heard the bell go off. You rushed out, grabbing your purse and your phone on your way out. You had already informed your roommate that you were going out for the night, and everything else in the house was taken care of.

You were yet to put on your boots, but since they were kept near the entrance to your apartment anyway you decided on just putting them on after you let Jaebum in.

You pulled the door open to see Jaebum leaning slightly against the wall beside him, straightening up once he saw you. He wore blue jeans with a silky black shirt, and if your opinion was asked for, you’d say he left his shirt unbuttoned a little too far down. His skin was so soft, and you could slightly make out a light red mark running down his chest, possible from earlier today or from last night.

He smiled at you, opening his arms to pull you in for a hug. He smelled so good, and your mind was quickly rushing to a different place. You mentally cursed yourself, just returned his hug and let him go when he pulled back.

“You look really good” he said, awkwardly scratching the back of his head.

You smiled at him, amused at how awkward he was acting. He had seen you in much more compromising positions and he was awkward about this.

“You don’t look too bad yourself” you said, still smiling before continuing, “Just give me a minute, I need to put my boots on and then we can get going”

He nodded, and you got busy putting your boots on, and then the two of you were on your way. He had driven himself, which was another surprise since he didn’t always drive. He had a license, but you had very rarely seen him drive.

When you reached the club, you spotted a wild Bambam on the dance floor. Seeing as this was a private party, there just were the right amount of people, it wasn’t too crowded and it wasn’t empty enough to be awkward. You went to greet Bambam, who when noticed you, just pulled you in for a hug while still swinging along to the beat of the music.

While the two of you dance-hugged, Jaebum just stood nearby smiling at the both of you.

Bambam let you go, and shouted over the music “It’s good to see you noona!”

“You too Bam” you shouted back, quickly kissing his cheek, like you were used to doing to him. Whenever you saw Bambam, you always saw the little baby with a pink patch of hair and it always made you want to pinch his cheeks, which was apparently embarrassing to Bambam (“I’m not a child anymore noona!!” he’d whine to you), so you settled for pecking his cheeks instead.

“I’m going to go meet the others yeah?” you continued.

He gave you a thumbs up, while still grooving to the music and you laughed at him once before turning around to find Jaebum. He led you to one of the booths where you saw the rest of your friends along with a couple of other guys you knew were friends of the rest of the boys. Jackson was the first to get up and pull you in for a hug, always the excited little puppy. He kissed your cheek and let you get on with greeting the rest of them.

Yugyeom, the ever whiney baby, complained about you not seeing them for way too long. And you teased him back about only missing you for the free chocolate shakes you always bought for him, to which he whined back again.

Mark gave you another hug, engulfing you in the huge t-shirt he was wearing, and looked over at Jaebum to shout “mine!” and then proceeded to giggle. You laughed with him, not really wanting to look back at Jaebum to see his reaction.

Jinyoung gave you a quick hug, followed by a simple “I missed you” shouted over the music to which you pinched his fluffy little cheeks before he could complain about it. You waved at the rest of their friends, you were not really close with any of them. Some of them smiled back at you, and some waved back.

The greetings finally being done, you settled down between Mark and Jackson, and they got busy trying to order drinks for you and Jaebum. Jackson instantly ordered another round of shots for everyone, and you ordered a cosmo for yourself while Jaebum just wanted beer.

All of you talked and enjoyed the alcohol, ordered a couple more shots and before you knew it Jackson was pulling you out to the dance floor. The two of you danced, soon joined by Bambam, Mark, Yugyeom and Jinyoung. Jaebum stayed in the booth, talking to a couple of his friends. Being with them was like a second nature to you so it was a fun time, Bambam and Yugyeom pulling out their silly moves, and soon enough Jinyoung was twerking to a song.

It was a good time, until Jaebum decided to join you all and the DJ chose that very moment to switch up to sexier songs. Jaebum easily snaked an arm around your waist in the dark club and pulled you towards him, your back touching his chest. He started slow, grinding into you in a way no one would notice, his hands tight on your waist guiding you to grind back on him. As the music changed, so did his movements.

He was grinding harder, holding onto you tighter. And then his hand was pulling the hair away from your neck, his lips placing a single kiss on the exactly spot he knew made you go weak and your head fell back on his shoulders; the two of you moving to the music was addictive, whether it was the alcohol or just Jaebum’s hands on you, your mind was clouded with desire. You didn’t see if any of the other boys saw the two of you, because you knew it was very evident what was happening between the two of you now, and frankly, you didn’t care. All you could feel was Jaebum.

His lingering, wet kisses continued while his hands felt up your sides. His hands stopped at your waist, digging his fingers into the skin there, pulling you back harder on him so you could feel just what this was doing to him. Just feeling him through his jeans made your mouth salivate and you moved your head away from him to look at him through hooded eyes, silently begging him to just take you somewhere empty and have his way with you. He looked at you, looking up at him with so much need he could have kissed you right there if there wasn’t still a part of him acutely aware of your surroundings. He knew the two of you had already gone too far, and this would be taking it even farther.

You were in a trance, the music flowing through your veins like the alcohol influenced blood. And then it was gone; the trace completely broken.

One of Jaebum’s friends, who you didn’t know too well other than the very basics, was besides the two of you and shouted over the music, loud enough for both yourself and Jaebum to hear.

“Your plan is working perfectly, isn’t it? She is so jealous I can see her seething from here”

Your eyes followed his tilted head, right across to where you and Jaebum were dancing, on the other side of the club. You didn’t know who to look for, but your eyes quickly settled in on an all familiar face.

Jaebum’s ex.

The ex he had ended up making an entire mixtape about. The ex that he always regretted letting go of. The ex everyone in GOT7 referred to as Jaebum’s toxic love. The ex he wrote songs for and wrote songs about. Her eyes were glued to the two of you, and you could feel the high from the alcohol evaporate under her gaze. Your body froze up and Jaebum felt it instantly. He wanted to say something to you, but he was just as shocked as you. And you felt as if you were going to be sick.

Then another wave of nausea hit you as a new thought made its way into your mind. It all made sense now. The staying over, making breakfast, the cuddling, the kisses; it was all for this moment. You kept thinking it had something to do with you, and yet now you were quickly realising it was all really for her. So he could make her jealous, make her want him back.

There was a sudden pit in your stomach, fast spreading through your entire body. You felt used, and utterly humiliated. You were almost sure the humiliation you felt would translate into you falling right to the ground and breaking down. But your pride wouldn’t let you fall to the ground like that.

And then you felt another pair of eyes on you; Jackson’s. He was looking straight at you, your mouth agape in shock and your locked up body. You knew he had witnessed the whole thing, and the humiliation you felt just increased with that realisation. Your body hadn’t even felt the pain yet, the humiliation being too much to handle for it to let your mind go to any other emotion.

With whatever little dignity you still had left, you finally lifted your head from Jaebum’s shoulder and pushed his hands away from you, not really caring to gauge his reaction to your movements. Taking a breath to steady yourself, you kept your head held high and your emotions at bay and walked towards the exit. In this club, mostly full of absolute strangers, you felt as thought everyone’s eyes were on you, witnessing your humiliation. It felt like everyone was aware of what a sad little fool you were, believing even for a moment that any of what Jaebum had done today was for you.

You managed to make it out of the club without keeling over, the fresh air outside helping you feel a little less suffocated. You stepped a little farther towards the road, trying to hail a taxi home when you felt a hand on your arm, and you were almost ready to turn around and slap that person if it turned out to be Jaebum.

But when you turned around, you suddenly felt like even more of a fool. It was Jackson, not Jaebum. Of course it wasn’t Jaebum, he was probably in a dark corner with her by now, his hands that were on you moments ago were now probably entangled in her hair and touching her body as his lips kissed her instead of you. The thought made you sick to your stomach, even when you knew there was no reason for you to feel this way. Those were the rules right? He could get laid with whoever he wanted, as could you.

“I’m so sorry” was all Jackson said before he pulled you in for a hug, and your dam just broke. You sobbed into his chest, Jackson’s hands caressing your back. Both of you stood there for god knows how long before you could stop your sobs, and he didn’t complain once.

When you finally pulled back from him, he wiped the tears staining your cheeks and leaned down to kiss your forehead.

“Did you know?” you managed to breath out, not really trusting your voice to not break if you spoke any louder.

“I didn’t. I swear to you I didn’t know any of this. I didn’t even know she was going to be here. To be honest, I’m not even sure what all just happened”

You nodded, not looking him in the eye, looking out into the ongoing traffic instead, trying to distract yourself by looking for a cab.

“I should look for a cab” you spoke out loud.

“No, please, let me at least drop you home”

"No Jackson you don’t have to leave your party for-”

“Its for my own sanity, just so I will know you are safe and sound at home” he interrupted.

You simply nodded at him, and he proceeded to take your hand in his and walk you towards his car.

As he drove, you looked out into the night. 24 hours ago, Jaebum was with you, and now he was with her. Maybe he was only with you 24 hours ago so he could be with her now. Maybe you were a convenient replacement until he could get her back. And you didn’t know why that hurt you so much.

All you knew was that you wanted to go home and erase this entire day from your memory.

[authenticaussie]

“Now that I’ve got you, what should I do first?” MAS Villain!Marco

Requests! || Commissions! || Ko-Fi

“Well well well,” Phoenix said as he prowled closer, staring up at them, and Ace tugged ineffectually at the chains holding his arms above his head. Thankfully Phoenix had given them small platforms to stand on, but his shoulders were already starting to hurt, and the hot salt water below them was making him dizzy. “Now that I’ve got you, what should I do first?”

“Let us go?” Sabo asked, his own attempts at escaping going just as well as Ace’s.

“Tell us your evil plan so we can thwart it in the nick of time?”

“Release us and turn to the side of good, knowing you’ll never beat us?”

“And because good is good,” Ace tacked on, and saw Sabo stifle a laugh.

“And because good is good.”

Phoenix pursed his lips and raised his eyebrow, and Ace shrugged, the steel around his wrists clinking. “What, you can’t blame a hero for trying.”

“Yes I can,” Phoenix said. “That’s really one of the benefits of being a villain. I can blame whoever I like.”

“That feels wrong,” Sabo said, and Ace nodded slowly, trying to think of the reason why.

“Villain benefit,” Phoenix said, shrugging, and then sighed and gave a bored wave of his hand. “Anyway, your attempts to escape are futile, blah blah blah, you know the drill.” He pulled a lever by his side, and Ace couldn’t stop his yelp as the machine jolted and both he and Sabo were slowly lowered closer to the pits.

“No!” Sabo yelled, pulling his knees up to his chest and gripping the chains hard. Salt water splashed and bubbled, landing on Ace’s skin, and he hissed as it melted through him. “It took me way too long to regrow this foot last time!”

Phoenix grinned at them. “Might want to work on escaping fast, then.”

“Come onnnnn,” Ace yelled, already feeling his control on his form starting to wane, but Phoenix’s grip only turned taunting.

“What, have I finally found something you can’t escape?”

“We always escape!” Sabo declared, puffing out his chest, and then he pulled himself up even further, twisting over and hooking his feet around the chains. His face turned red quickly, but in a moment he managed to release himself, scaling further up the chains as Phoenix swore and bolted to the stairs, ready to fight again. However, instead of going to the walkway above, Sabo closed his eyes and let go of the sharp edges of his form, letting fire wash over his shoulders and feet before he jumped and grabbed onto Ace’s chains.

They swung around, and Ace watched the salt water creeping closer with no small amount of trepidation. “Faster would be good, though,” he said weakly, and Sabo huffed at him, fingers working quickly to pick the lock and untangle the knots. With a sudden snap, they loosened, and Ace stumbled, his hands pinwheeling as he tried to keep his balance, barely snagging the chains by Sabo.

“Time to go,” Sabo said, scurrying up the chains nimbly, and Ace groaned, pulling himself up and cursing Sabo’s easy flexibility. He closed his eyes for a moment, and then, like Sabo, lost some of the weight of his bone-based form.

The world seemed sharper when he was fire, but his temper always flared hotter and faster when he let go of human trappings, and so Phoenix’s shout of, “What, going to just run off?” made him growl and force the chains to swing back and forth until he could jump off and land on the platform Phoenix had been standing on before. Sabo, surprised by the sharp snap of the chain, was sent skidding, and his feet landed in the water, making him let out a howl of frustration.

“God damn it, Ash!” he said, pulling his now flat ankles out, and he grunted as he pulled himself up the chain again, managing to hook his arm over the edge of the unmoving platform above.

Phoenix, stuck on the stairs, glanced between the two of them and then decided Sabo was the easier target, running up the rest of the stairs. Ace yelled at him, then groaned and hit his palm into his forehead. He took a breath, solidifying his form again, and forced himself to keep calm.

“Oy, Spark!” he called, flicking his arm out and turning it into a narrow column of fire that wavered over the saltwater tanks. “Firestorm!”

“You’re a fucking asshole!” Sabo snapped back, almost growling, but leaned against the bars and did the same with his own arm. “And I hate your feet!”

Sabo stood just as Ace fell over, and Phoenix groaned, staring at Sabo’s fighting pose. “Come on,” he whined, “I had a really good plan this time, too.”

“And now we’ll put a stop to it,” Sabo declared, grinning and thumbing his nose, and Phoenix groaned again.

“It was really good,” he said, folding his arms and refusing to hit back as Sabo threw a punch. “You guys were going to melt to about mid torso, and then I was going to go rob a bunch of places and before you reformed, bam! Out of the country for a month or two.”

“It’s our anniversary next month,” Sabo pointed out, and Phoenix smirked, leaning to the side as another of Sabo’s punches swung by him, but Sabo had learnt from their frequent battles with Phoenix and snapped his elbow back. Phoenix yelped, quickly jumping onto the narrow railing and dancing along it on light feet as Sabo tried to knock him off.

“I said a month or two. It’s really closer to a week. You know I’d miss you two too much if I left for a month. And I’d never miss celebrating our first fight. What sort of villain do you take me for?”

“An evil one?” Sabo said, but he was grinning and Ace had to hold back his own laughter. Phoenix glanced between the two of them, eyes narrowed at their obvious amusement.

“Why, only evil villains adopt stray kittens!” Ace said, and Phoenix groaned.

“It’s for the aesthetic!”

“And the three dogs?” Sabo said, looking at Phoenix pityingly, and Phoenix crossed his arms.

“I’m leaving if you’re going to be mean, yoi.”

“Awwww,” Ace whined, pouting. “But who else would try and melt us?” he asked before managing to push himself up to his elbows and get to his knees. He cupped his shins and breathed out slowly, sacrificing his left arm to get his feet back.

“Aw come on,” Phoenix said as Ace stood and stretched his calves, “that’s cheating!”

“You know what else woulda made you call cheating?” Ace asked, trying not to snigger, “Two torsos are more than enough for one body. Sure, sharing’s not that comfortable, but we totally coulda reformed and kicked your ass before you even hit the first bank.”

“Unfair,” Phoenix mumbled, falling off the back of the rail and flipping underneath, narrowly cutting between the two tanks and landing with a skid, throwing a punch at Ace that he almost blocked with his left hand before he remembered it was gone.

“Totally fair,” Ace retorted as he backed away, trying to cover for his side, and Sabo scoffed and added,

“Yeah, you’re the one who tried to melt us!”

Sabo climbed on top of the rails, crouching and holding on as he arched his calves, and then lunged forwards, grabbing the chain and swinging over the tanks. He landed next to Ace with a thump, stumbling, and glared at his bare feet. Ace had to hold back a laugh, more than a little amused at the difference between his dark feet and Sabo’s ridiculously white shins.

“Don’t say a word,” Sabo said threateningly, his shoulder resting against Ace’s left side to compensate, “don’t even think about it.”

“Hah,” Phoenix said, pointing, “Your feet look ridiculous.”

Sabo groaned, head tilted back, and he glared at Phoenix. “Yeah well you can shut up!” he said, “I told you I didn’t want to regrow my feet! I’m not going on that anniversary anything unless you apologise.”

“What?” Phoenix spluttered, but Sabo didn’t stop glaring.

“I hate feet!”

“It’s true,” Ace said, throwing out a kick that Phoenix took with a grunt, twisting Ace’s foot and getting him away from Sabo, “When we were kids, he just went around all floaty spirit ‘cause he didn’t want to grow legs. Everyone thought the forest and our apartment was haunted.”

“Haunted?” Phoenix said, obviously trying not to laugh, and Sabo glared. He took Ace’s side again, attacking from the left as Ace lashed on Phoenix’s right and made him duck and weave to avoid the both of them.

“None of this sounds like an apology!”

Phoenix frowned, and his voice almost dipped into a whine when he said, “But I’m a villain!”

“Do I look like I care?” Sabo said, managing to punch Phoenix in the face and Ace quickly followed with an uppercut that sent Phoenix reeling. Sabo pushed him to the ground and grabbed his shoulder, handcuffing Phoenix with seastone and grabbing his salt water necklace, pouring it on the back of Phoenix’s neck and making him squirm, his own firey feathers drawing back into his skin.

“Phoenix, you’re under arrest for drugging and kidnapping-”

“Technically I just asked you guys to follow me, you’re the ones who decided to steal my hot chocolate-”

“Why did you put drugs in your hot chocolate anyway-?

”-two heroes, theft-“

“I haven’t stolen anything-!”

“Yet.”

Sabo groaned, glaring, “Let me read him his rights, Ash!”

“Sorry, sorry,” Ace said, hand up in surrender, trying not to laugh, and Sabo rolled his eyes.

“And also for threatening to skip out on our anniversary.”

“You’re the one who did that!” Phoenix said, but Sabo only scoffed, getting up and pulling Phoenix to his feet.

“Semantics.”

“In this case semantics are important! You can’t arrest me for something I didn’t do!”

Ace and Sabo looked at each other then shrugged. “Yeah we can,” Sabo said, “Hero benefit.”

Ace grinned, adding, “Plus this’ll make sure you’re in the city for next week.”

“I said I would,” Phoenix grumbled under his breath as Sabo handed him over to the police, and Ace bopped him on the nose.

“Villain drawbacks.”

“Horrible, horrible drawbacks,” Sabo said, ignoring Phoenix’s annoyed growl. “You should just become a hero, and then not have to worry about getting arrested for things you didn’t do.”

“See!” Phoenix tried to say to the cops, “I’m getting wrongfully accused!”

The cop looked at him, unimpressed, then said, “Last week you blew up my favourite coffee shop. You get no sympathy from me.”

“Byeeeeee Phoenix!” Ace said as they drove off, and Sabo jumped on his back, returning his feet. Ace shuddered slightly at the displacement, then hooked his hands under Sabo’s knees to keep him up and let Sabo wave his own goodbye and call, 

“See you next week!”

[mrvdocks]

Preacher II

Fandom: Preacher

Pairing: Cassidy/Reader

Word Count: 1807

Friday - Day 1

She finds it a bit off when she notices Jesse doesn’t come to the diner, most of the time he didn't, which either meant he was still recovering from a hangover or just did work around the church. But judging from the night before, he'd normally try to make conversation with everyone in case he was serious about leaving.  

"You don't think he actually meant it, do you?" Emily asks, shuffling around to attend others besides her.  

"Jesse says a lot of things." She says quickly, but even as fast and automatic as she says it, there's a gut feeling that doesn’t sit right with her. She gives Emily an empty look and drops her eyes to her steaming mug of coffee. Suddenly, it doesn’t matter anymore, and she decides that something's off.  

"I've got to go." She scampers off, not hasting to run as far as she can make it to the church.  

She nearly broke the front door of the church, barely able to contain the surprise and shock she felt as she stared at the front. The first row of pews were out of line, almost as if they had been moved violently by a tornado. Jesse was amongst them, clearly passed out.  

She ran forward, and automatically her hands found themselves checking for a pulse, any sign he could be alive. When he proved to be breathing, she let out a sigh of relief.  

There were faint footsteps that she could make out, and they were coming closer towards her and Jesse. Without hesitation, she withdrew her gun, ready to aim at whoever might've done this to Jesse.  

The intruder wore something that covered him, a heavy and stiff poncho she recognized from the donation box. Once the intruder caught sight of her and her weapon, he dropped the wet towel he had been holding in surprise.  

"Who are you?" She demanded.

"Whoa! Hey!" He stepped back, as she stood now, eyes trained on him.

"I found him like this a few minutes ago, I just went to go get somethin' to wake him up."  

Her eyes softened as she recognized the intruder, the giggling Irishman.  

"You're that guy from the bar." She lowered her weapon just enough to ward him off.

He nodded compliantly.

"Cassidy." He introduced.

"What're you doing here?" She asked wearily.

"I wanted to sort of – it's complicated." He had gestured to Jesse at first, then waved his hand.

"Well, you're not the first to try and crash here overnight." She wasn't sure of his intentions, but nonetheless relaxed, putting her gun back and sighed.  

"You're going to have to help me with him." She said, already putting her arms under Jesse to try to lift him up. Cassidy helped her, taking Jesse by his left side while she carried him from the right. Jesse slumped forward between them, his head hung low and feet dragging against the hardwood until they reached his bedroom.  

Once Jesse was in bed, and deemed to be at least alive, they both headed down to the kitchen. There was some sort of tension between them. She was caught off guard by him. Cassidy on the other hand, couldn't stop staring at her. She shook off her jacket, and sat down on the couch, laying down to shut her eyes.  

"He your boyfriend or somethin'?" Cassidy suddenly perked.

Her eyes opened slightly, and she sat up to face Cassidy. "No."

He made a hum, almost as if he didn't believe her.  

"He's a close friend, and I worry about him." She answered simply. That's all there was to it.  

"You know, you seem very relaxed in front of a stranger you only just met." He concluded.

"I'm relaxed because at least I'm armed in case you try anything."  

Cassidy fell silent, agreeing with this.  

She sighed deeply, and stood, walking over to the coffee machine, reminiscing about her steaming mug she'd left at the diner. "You want some?" She offered Cassidy, gesturing towards the machine.  

"Not much of a coffee person."  

She shrugged him off, pouring herself a cup.  

She pulled herself up a seat, facing him. "Well, it's just you and me." She announced.  

"So what's with you? Back at the bar." She probed curiously.

"Just got into some trouble, no need to worry, I'll be gone by tonight."  

"You waiting for someone?"  

"Something like that."  

She hummed in response, rubbing at her tired eyes. Suddenly she leaned forward and spoke softly but sternly. "Listen, can I trust you to take care of him while I'm gone?"

He hesitates for a beat and then carefully nods.  

"If you need someplace to stay for the night, there's an old bed in the attic." She said conversationally.  

He nodded again.

They sat in silence for a minute.  

-

Saturday Day 2

She warms up to Cassidy on the second day, only when he had offered to fix the air conditioner once he noticed her fanning herself with a lid.  

"You can fix an air conditioner?" She paused her fanning, eyes wild.

"I can try." He simply said.

"So you're a bar hopper and a handyman? I’m surprised."

"Yeah well there's lots of things you don't know about me."

"I guess so. But I do know one thing."  

His brow rose.

"You're a drinker. You drink single malt whiskey because you're afraid beer would give you a frat boy vibe. You've never been inside a fraternity house. Unless it was to get into some girl's pants. You probably weren't even a boy scout. There is no club you would join because it would choke the air from your lungs. You'd suffocate. Shall I go on?"

Cassidy stayed silent in amazement. Here was this girl, who he hadn't even known for more than 2 days, who took a jab at him all the while keeping him entranced.

He made a hand movement, gesturing her to continue.

She stood up, only partially so she could lean in front of him, staring him down.  

"You think I'm pretty. But at the same time you've got that glint in your eye that shows something else. You're hiding something. I wouldn't hold it against you, though. Everybody's got something to hide here."

Cassidy's eyes followed her every move, as she smoothly made her way closer and closer to his face.

"What about you? You got something to hide?"

She cocked her head down, shoulders shaking from keeping her laugh in. She turned her head back up to respond. "Maybe I do."  

Cassidy would've had to be a damn idiot to ignore how close she was to him. He gulped. Just as she retracted and pulled herself away from him, he almost made the desperate decision to take ahold of her arm to stop her. He held himself still instead, choosing to press half moons against his palms.  

She discarded the fan, and walked out of the room, leaving him speechless.

Sunday Day 3

She could feel his stare burning into her. Tulip hadn't, she had been more or less captivated by Jesse. But he had been drowned out as her total focus went onto Cassidy. She doesn't notice her eyes are wrenched tightly until she begins to see stars. Once they open, the room suddenly seems to shine brighter and she can't shake the feeling in the pit of her stomach. She manages not to jump when she feels Cassidy's hand touch her shoulder sending a jolt of energy down her back.  

She's on her feet faster than she can blink up, following everyone out to the front of the church. She wonders if he could see the pink on her face – probably not.

-

Emily stutters to conversate with Miles and clumsily tries to work the cappuccino machine, hitting it with her palms when she gets frustrated. She cuts in, pulling Emily away from the machine, "I got it, I got it."  

Emily huffs, and walks away without a word. Miles following not too far behind. Once she unplugs the machine, she carries it over to the sink and is about to wash it until Cassidy's voice interrupts.

"Nice bloke."  

"Mm." Her brow lifts.  

"So,' he begins, scratching at the back of his head.  

She turns to face him, "Spill."

"I need an advance."

"Mm see, it's not up to me. And the air conditioner's still broken."

"I'm waiting on a part for that." He counters.

She shrugs.

"Look, listen." He sighs. " I...I'm in the middle of South West Nowhere here. I have no money. I have no transport. I'm running dangerously low on drugs. And I'll do something desperate I swear to god."

She glares at him before she turns to walk away, to which Cassidy lightly holds onto her arm in response. "I'm jokin' about. Don't be like that."  

She sighs in defeat once she realizes Cassidy's just not going to give up today.  

"I'll ask Jesse, just please stay here and don't drink anything else. Like the communion wine." She gives him a knowing look, and he abides by her. She's not even one foot out the kitchen until Cassidy exclaims suddenly. Her attention goes to Eugene.  

"Eugene!" Sheriff Root calls out, and everyone's voices go low as they keep their eyes on the scene in front of them. She restrains herself from having to curse Cassidy out in front of their town.  

"What the bloody hell happened there?"

"Shotgun. Tried to kill himself." She whispers, moving Cassidy away from the center of the room.

"He's walking the earth with a face like an arsehole. Should've tried harder." He pauses. "Was that an un-Christian thing to say, was it?"

"Yes. Very much. Listen, I know you need money and all, but can I just trust you to not cause trouble around here?"  

Cassidy's head drops, contemplating. "Yeah, no trouble." He agrees

She nods. "Good. I like having you around."

Cassidy grins like a madman once she's out of sight.