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#i love him i want to give him a big hug and a less grimy shawl

notchesandbullets · 3 years

Text

Pure Affections Wrapped Up in a Dark Green Bow (Husband!Pro-Hero!Bakugou x Wife!Reader)

Art credit: @/gaysony on Instagram

Warnings: suggestive themes (there’s one steamy kiss and innuendoes sprinkled throughout), nudity (not sexual), fluff, cursing, injuries, hurt/comfort, soft!domestic!Bakugou and heartwarming present.

Synopsis: You had been married to Bakugou for a couple years now and you had a special present for him. But when he gets home, it’s clear that he hasn’t had the best day. You’re there, steady and strong for him to lean on for support and he does until he’s capable of standing on his own again. This is what love looks like.

Words: 6k

The door to your flat slammed closed, signaling that your husband was home, and you wiped your grimy hands on your dirt-streaked cargo pants. You grabbed something and jumped on the counter, shoving it in a cabinet before closing it. Double checking to make sure you couldn’t see it, you leaped down, quelling your excitement as you sped out of the kitchen.

But your rapid footsteps faltered when Bakugou came into sight, looking absolutely drained.

He dropped his duffle bag on the floor without a care and kicked off his shoes, never looking up once.

“Katsuki?”

Your soft voice brought him back down to reality and he sighed heavily, gripping the roots of his ash-blond hair in frustration. When he finally glanced up, his garnet eyes were laced with exhaustion.

But everything melted away the instant he saw you.

Engine oil smudged on your cheeks, Bakugou refrained from snorting at the sight of your muddied cargo pants and stained, white tank top. You sure were a sight for sore eyes even when tinkering with your support items commissioned for big-time heroes like him.

“Hi.” You giggled as he dumped the rest of his stuff to the ground, closing the distance in between you two in three large strides.

You frowned as you noticed a slight limp in his gait but you didn’t get a chance to question it. Bakugou didn’t waste any time, trapping you in his arms and crushing your form to his chest.

He grunted his hello, but his eyes were soft and his smile was fond as he drew back slightly. He might’ve grown since his hot-headed days in high school as you helped him express his emotions but that didn’t mean all his ticks went away.

You just held him as his head plopped on your shoulder, sensing where his distress and aggravation was stemming from.

“Bad day?” You asked sympathetically, looping your arms around his neck so that you could card your fingers through his spiky hair.

He snorted but his fingers tightened from where they were gripping your waist. “Like you wouldn’t fucking believe.”

It was awful. He had gotten called away on a mission only to find out that his people mixed up who he was going up against and had given him skewed intelligence. He would’ve fucked them up for a mistake like that if it wasn’t for that column that landed on his leg and trapped it. He was fortunate that Recovery Girl had made a special trip to see him or else he would still be in the hospital.

You smiled sympathetically at the bite in his tone and pressed a kiss to his temple in an effort to calm him. “You want to talk about it?”

Bakugou shook his head no. All that could come later, right now, he just wanted to to hold you in his arms. Because when he did, it was like all was right with the world.

You didn’t press the issue. Instead, after coaxing him to stand on his own two feet so that you weren’t dragging his weight around the complex, you led him to your shared bedroom.

“C’mon, bathtime.” You encouraged softly.

Bakugou didn’t fight you as you guided him into the simplistic yet modern bathroom and he lifted his arms up as you tapped his wrists to indicate what you wanted him to do so that you could take his shirt off.

You turned around so he could strip the rest of the way and started to run the bath. You left the lights off on purpose so that the harshness of it wouldn’t hurt his eyes. Instead, the window provided natural light.

Adding a couple bath salts and essential oils (even though he claimed he hated the way it smelled) to aid in his relaxation, you adjusted the temperature of the water to chanced a glance back at the man draped over you. Your brow furrowed and a frown pinched the edge of your mouth as he leaned against you more than usual. He was more hurt than he was letting on.

Slinging his heavy arm around your shoulder, you supported him and helped him into the tub. He had already undressed the rest of the way but your brow furrowed as he struggled to lift his left leg. Eventually, you were able to lower him without a problem and you grinned triumphantly at the feat accomplished but it went unnoticed by your husband.

Bakugou frowned tiredly when you didn’t follow him in.

“Come here.” He rasped, his voice heavy and laced with a burden he didn’t want to voice.

Your expression softened but you shook your head. You were so dirty from working in your workshop. If anything, you needed a shower. He could soak by himself and then come eat dinner when he was ready and up for it.

But Bakugou tugged on your hand, insisting.

“I don’t give a shit.” He growled lowly. “Get in here, dumbass.”

Shaking your head at his crude language, you squeaked when he yanked you towards him. Your breath caught in your throat as he was now an inch away from your face, his hot exhales mingling with your gasp of surprise.

“You’re not asking, are you?” You sighed dramatically but smiled to let him know that you were just kidding. “Alright, give me a second.”

As soon as you took your clothes off, you clambered in the bath with him, facing him because you didn’t trust him not to try anything in this state where you were both nude.

He wrinkled his nose, giving away his displeasure as you stayed an arm’s length away from him but you didn’t care and urged him to scoot forward so that you could start to clean him.

Bakugou hissed as your nails dragged against his scalp. “Taking a damn bath is fucking dirty.”

“The water gets so fucking disgusting.” He scowled, huffing scornfully when he saw how brown the water was turning already.

You shrugged, focusing on a patch of particularly rough sediment clinging to his chest.

Bakugou took this moment of peace in time to observe the way your brow furrowed in concentration, how your nose flared and your lips pursed.

You hardly ever let him watch you at work in the shop, giving him a shitty excuse that he distracted you or some shit.

Fucking lame.

You were a vision when you were working on things that you were passionate on. He could watch you for hours and never get tired. He actually had, on several occasions, had gotten in trouble with his PR team more than once because he skipped or forgotten about a press conference meant to boost his publicity.

Not that he really needed more. If anything, as a top ten hero, he needed less.

All he wanted was to lay in bed and fall asleep with you in his arms. Was it too much to ask for that of the world? To give him an uneventful night of peace where he wasn’t called away to work, to be able to wake up with you in the morning when the sun rose above the skyline and greet you with breakfast in bed instead of a scrawled note that told you how much he loved and missed you since he couldn’t stick around.

You never minded. You never complained about the hardships once.

You knew that when you agreed to marry him you knew exactly what you were signing up for. And you never regretted it.

Sure, the days were hard. You had work and friends to keep you more than occupied but at the end of the day, it boiled down to commitment and how much you loved him. That wasn’t to say that waiting was easy, not at all.

Because everyday you had to worry about whether or not he would make it home that night. Whether he was eating properly and getting enough rest. How every time you turned on the news you held your breath as you flicked through the channels, hoping and praying that your husband wouldn’t be on the front of those stories that broadcasted the death of a hero for the whole nation to see.

But he was worth it. He was worth your unconditional love for him and every single moment of waiting. You would always wait for him because there was no one else you’d rather be with.

Bakugou almost fell asleep in the tub as you bathed him without being prompted. Normally, he's have some kind of irritation flashing through him as he was forced to endure your loving touch that he absolutely did not need. Or treasure.

Or was the only thing he was able to think of when you tended to him with the utmost care.

Fuck.

He had learned fairly early on in your marriage that being vulnerable didn't not constitute the same as being weak in his definition. But it got easier as time passed and he saw that you would be the last person on earth to judge him or think less of him because of his limitations.

It had taken a while but eventually you broke down those high walls of his, embracing him in the midst of the maze he had built up around his heart to protect himself and kissed the top of his head as he leaned down.

You got him. All of him.

There was nowhere else in the world he’d rather be than by your side.

Bakugou’s head lolled back against the backsplash as your nails scratched against his scalp.

He exhaled deeply. “Fuck, that feels good.”

You fought back a cheeky smile. You knew him well and all of his weak spots.

Bakugou’s eyes fluttered closed as you continued to clean him. Usually, he would insist you turn around and relax so that he could take care of you but all the energy was sapped out of him. He was lucky he had someone like you to sit here with him after a shitty day, not ask any questions, but just simply be with him.

You squeaked in surprise when he suddenly brought you in for a hug and you blushed a rosy red when he nuzzled unabashedly into the valley of your breasts.

“Katsuki!!” You exclaimed in shock, your fingers winding in his hair when he didn’t let you go. Your eyes shot open when he tugged you into his lap. He was never this forward and he usually waited a good couple hours to initiate any kind of physical contact after a rough day at work.

Today must have been particularly bad.

“Thank you.” Bakugou grunted, the voiced appreciation coming out muffled from where he was attached to your chest.

Gaze softening, understanding filled your eyes and you gently kissed the top of his head. “You’re welcome.”

Discreetly, you grabbed the soap to finish his bath, sudsing yourself in the process. Bakugou didn’t complain once as the water turned dark with dirt, even though he was barking about it earlier, simply basking in your presence and breathing you in while you took care of him.

He toweled off first, per your insistence since you still needed to wash your hair.

As soon as you dried off, you gestured for him to hand you the antibiotic so that you could get to work on those cuts of his. He protested the entire time.

“This doesn’t even hurt, why do you have to put a fucking—”

Bakugou broke off with a hiss of pain as you pressed down slightly harder than you needed to in order to emphsize your point.

“Katsuki…” You warned, your eyes blatantly telling him not to fight you on this or else he’d regret it. He got it rather quickly.

“Yeah, yeah,” He mumbled, averting his eyes. “Fine. Do your fucking shit or whatever.”

You weren't thrown off by the indifferent tone in his voice. He needed to know that you weren’t going anywhere.

He always got agitated anytime he got hurt. It was only natural for someone who grew up thinking they had to be strong all the time.

Gently pressing down on his thigh, you paid special attention to when he winced.

“It’s just bruised.” You threw him a pointed glance, knowing what he was going to deny. “Recovery Girl came by?”

“Yeah.” Bakugou hissed under his breath. “Shitty nerd called her before I could say a damn word.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Well thank goodness for that because everybody knows you would screw that up.”

“Oi.” He growled at your snark. “Not fucking funny.”

You grinned. “Wayyyy funny.”

Your smile faded as you continued to patch him up, inspecting him thoroughly to make sure you hadn’t missed anything. He had a tendency to hide how bad his injuries were and although you could understand why, you didn’t appreciate the times he was literally knocking on death’s door and would die if he didn’t receive medical attention.

Those times, you weren’t all that forgiving.

Gesturing to his leg that he had been favoring since he came home, you arched an eyebrow in silent questioning.

Bakugou rolled his eyes. “It’s fine.”

You crossed your arms over your chest but didn’t push it. He could still walk on it so it was probably fine. His pride was probably what was hurt more. Either that or the mission had gone bad and he had been too late.

Swallowing harshly, you knew not to cross that line.

As the two of you exited the bathroom, you left behind the tense atmosphere and relaxed as you stepped back into the living area, making your way to the kitchen with great difficulty as Bakugou peppered kisses to your neck in a wordless thanks for helping him.

And the instant you arrived in the kitchen, you sprang away from him.

“Surprise!!” You shouted excitedly, waving your hands at the simple meal set up at the table.

There was a single cinnamon and spice candle that sat in the center of the white tablecloth. He never was one for extravagance but you put in a little extra effort today.

At his silence, your arms dropped and you played with your fingers nervously, thinking that he didn’t like it. Or maybe that he found it annoying and just wanted to be left alone and now he would have to eat dinner with you.

You started to ramble as you began to panic. “I-I thought we could do something nice, since it’s your birthday, and I know since the pandemic, things have been really hard on you guys so I thought it would be nice to relax and—”

You cut off with a squeak as he swept you up into his arms and off your feet, burying his face into the crook of your neck. Cheeks flushing bright red, your stammering came to a halt as he let out a shaky exhale against your heated skin.

“Thanks.”

It came out quieter than his usual volume, taking you by surprise, but you still heard it nonetheless.

You didn’t tease him. Maybe later when he could handle it, but not now.

Stroking his hair comfortingly, you grounded him in reality before guiding him to sit at the table. He had tried to hide how happy he was from you but he couldn’t. Not one bit.

You knew him too well.

Letting him rest his feet, knowing he must’ve been standing and running around all day to correct mistakes, defeat villains and save people.

You moved to go sit down on the opposite side of the table like you normally everyday at dinnertime but the arm locked around your waist stopped you.

Glancing back quizzically, you yelped as Bakugou pulled you down into his lap, pressing your back flush against his broad chest.

He didn’t say anything, and if you had to guess, you figured that his brow was probably furrowed in annoyance and his mouth was pressed in a thin line at indulging in something as simple as your company and affection, but you could let him have this.

He deserved it after all.

Twisting around, you planted a gentle kiss to his jaw, raising a hand up to tilt his face down towards you.

“Happy birthday, Katsuki.” You breathed, eyes shining with emotion.

Two years. It had been two years since he demanded that you marry him. You couldn’t believe it when he asked you.

Unlike most couples, you two hadn’t dated much at all. Your first date was a home-cooked meal at his apartment that he shared with Kirishima at the time, a day before the wedding.

Your friends were shocked, to say the least.

But you two were close. You might not have dated like how many people would classify it, but the two of you knew each other better inside out for most of your lives and was often the first one called whenever there was a villain incident that the other had gotten hurt in.

Bakugou hadn’t cared that the public knew about you. He had originally wanted to keep it a secret so that you were better off in terms of safety-wise, but you had nothing to hide, telling him to let them try.

They wouldn’t break you.

Your relationship might’ve seemed rushed to some, frantic and panicked, but it couldn’t be more off from the truth.

The thing was, you just knew. You knew that if it was going to be anyone, if you could see yourself with one person for the rest of your life, it would be with him.

No one else even came close.

But you were still surprised when Bakugou admitted the same, just in fewer words.

After going through everything, the USJ incident where you had gotten hurt taking a hit from the Nomu for him, the kidnapping where he was ripped away right in front of your eyes, to where he was the one to finally be able to rescue you during a break-in at Heights Alliance, he just knew.

Like you, after risking your lives for each other countless times and finding solace in each other after it was all said and done meant a lot. Meant more than he could put into words.

You squeaked as the arms around you tightened out of the blue, concern filling your gaze as you leaned back into his chest.

“Are you okay?” You asked softly, your small hands covering his on your waist as you sank into his embrace, tilting your head up so that you could see him clearly.

Bakugou’s vermilion eyes snapped towards you as he was broken out of his reminiscing. He grunted in your direction, internally wincing at how short he was being with you even if you didn’t even seem to mind.

His wistful smile transformed into a full-blown smirk as you grabbed a piece of korean barbeque off of his plate and popped it in your mouth.

Bakugou’s breath tickled your ear as he leaned forward and his low voice, though rough with exhaustion, held a touch of amusement. “I saw that, dumbass.”

You blinked up innocently at him, kicking your feet childishly and he shook his head, pinching your side in retaliation. You jumped and smacked his chest, blushing deeply as a chuckle reverbated against your back.

“Katsuki!!”

“Fucking dumbass.” He muttered into your hair, unconsciously catching a whiff of the coconut and pineapple shampoo you used. You smelled even sweeter than usual, it was dulling his senses. But he was not complaining.

You smiled to yourself, snuggling into his warmth. It was quiet moments like this when there was nothing else but the company of him surrounding you and the ambiance of a safe place that you loved the most.

Heart at ease, you were surprised to hear that his heartbeat matched yours.

Your teeth worried into your bottom lip cheekily and before he could tease you any further, you redirected his attention to his mostly untouched plate, insisting that he eat.

Bakugou was generally pretty good about staying on top of meals and eating healthy to balance out all the exercise he got working as a hero, but lately things had hit him hard and he had been slacking off more than usual.

You were quick to catch it before it got too bad though.

Bakugou’s eyes shimmered with a hint of unspoken emotion. He was so lucky to have you.

Moving to get up so that you could get your food from across the table, you gasped as his arms squeezed around your midsection, preventing you from leaving.

“Don’t leave.” Bakugou muttered, his brow furrowed as a hint of a pout appeared on his face.

You giggled softly at his childish antics. “I’ll be right back.”

He could be so clingy sometimes, not that you were complaining. You were just as bad. There was something about being in his embrace and letting him hold you that made you feel safe, made you feel like you were at home.

Although it was rare and far in between, he did occasionally let you cuddle him. It had taken a while into your marriage for his walls to come crumbling down, but once they did, you never once made fun of him for what he needed or asked for.

Pouting when your beloved husband didn’t let you free, you blinked up at him with doe eyes.

You wiggled in his lap when he still didn’t release you. “Katsuki—”

“No.” He growled stubbornly.

You sighed, trying to appear as disheartened as possible. “But I’m hungry.”

“You can eat my fucking food, dumbass.” Bakugou huffed.

Folding your arms over your chest stubbornly, you frowned. He wasn’t going to eat the food you made? Even after going all day without eating his meals?

Oh hell no.

You squirmed in his lap, now trying to pry his unyielding grip off so that you could reach your own plate that was probably cold by now on the other side of the table.

“Katsuki, please?” You pleaded and his frown faltered.

Why did you have to be so damn cute? It wasn’t fair.

While he was distracted, you swiped your plate from across the table and settled back into his lap cheekily, sighing contentedly as he was left in a stunned silence.

“Oi, what the fuck?”

You giggled, waving your chopsticks at him. “What the matter, Katsuki? Cat got your tongue?”

He glared at you but it faded as you laughed harder and he found a small smile lifting up the edges of his mouth.

Dinner consisted of light banter back and forth as he stuffed the food you had made in his mouth, begrudgingly admitting that it tasted good when you eagerly asked.

He tapped your hip to get you to stop squirming once you finished eating but you retorted that he was taking too long.

He needed to finish, you had something to give him.

Bakugou arched an eyebrow and purposefully went slower until you smacked his arm with an indignant cry at his audacity. He barked out a laugh, his chest shaking as you pushed out your bottom lip at him childishly.

“Fucking brat.” He muttered fondly and you beamed at the soft tone he took on.

“You love me~” You sang, pecking his cheek.

“Go die.” He hissed, attitude back faster than you could blink.

You insisted that he finish his meal before you revealed what you were holding back from him.

Bakugou wasn’t going to admit that the curiosity was eating away at him as you dangled the unknown of his head like something to be played with and he was almost ashamed at how he quickened his pace.

Almost.

He didn’t react when you clambered off of his lap but his eyes widened when you climbed on top of the counter.

Chair scraping back and crashing to the tiled floor with how abruptly he stood up, he was by your side in a split second.

“Fuck— You’re going to fucking fall!!!” He cursed violently, chest heaving as he panted hard.

You giggled lightly, leafing through the spices you kept on the top shelf in order to find what you were looking for. “Relax, Katsuki, I’m fine.”

You started keeping them all on the very top after he dumped an entire bottle of chili pepper into your dinner one night. You were not amused at the shit-eating grin on his face that came from getting his fix of spicy food.

After that, it was only salt and pepper from then on, much to his dismay.

Bakugou didn’t look at all reassured by your words and he was strongly thinking about climbing up there with you just so he could catch you if you lost your balance when you squealed joyfully and hopped back down.

Thank fuck. You were going to give him a heart attack one day.

After you ushered him to sit back down, you presented the culprit as to what your dodgy behavior was all about.

Bakugou’s vermilion eyes widened when you proudly handed him a carefully wrapped gift box. The pattern on the paper was simple and you didn’t go overboard with decorating it, settling for a small bow on top.

He appreciated it.

Even though to the untrained eye it looked like you hadn’t spent much effort, he knew that it was in fact the very opposite. He could see where you had meticulously folded the paper so that it laid flat and didn’t crease or wrinkle. The dark green bow vaguely reminded him of Deku, but more of the time when you said you loved the green in his hero costume because of how much it contrasted against his eyes.

Your words, not his.

He couldn’t fucking care less about the color except for the fact that you said you liked it. That stuck with him more than he would’ve liked to admit.

Bakugou’s hand shook slightly as he accepted the gift. “You weren’t supposed to get me anything, brat.”

You only rolled your eyes humorously, planting your hands on your hips. “Oh please, like I’m not going to get you something for your birthday.”

You may have had a habit of going all out for things like his birthday and holidays and he hated it because he never knew what to do with those warm, fuzzy feelings you left him with, giving him those wide smiles of yours that lit up the room as though he had created the universe and blinked up at him with your bright, loving doe eyes that melted his heart.

So instead, his competitive spirit spurred on to compensate for the lack of emotional capacity he had to deal with all of these unwanted feelings.

It frustrated and flattered you to no end.

“You better fucking remember this when yours comes around then, dumbass.” Bakugou smirked, shooting you a sharp look when your jaw dropped. He would return the favor and go overboard when yours came around.

You blinked. The nerve he had. He knew you two were trying to save up funds so that you would have a stable foundation when you were ready to have kids. “W-Wait, Katsu—”

“Too late.” He rejected flatly, his eyes twinkling with a touch of amusement as he dodged your attempts to take back the present.

His present.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Bakugou snapped as you lost your balance and crashed face-first into his chest while trying to get it back.

You floundered for a second, trying to get your bearings but your husband was too fast and beat you to it. He set the box down in flash in order to catch you.

Hooking your legs around his waist so that you didn’t fall again, his palm splayed against your lower back, teasing with the hem of your shirt before it dipped underneath.

You jolted as his warm hand came in contact with your chilly skin and you shivered.

Bakugou’s eyes narrowed accusingly at you. “You’re cold.”

Blushing, you tried to hide only for him to be one step ahead of you and yank your wrists away from your face.

“Fucking idiot.” He muttered to himself and you giggled, bouncing excitedly in his lap now that your life was no longer in danger from falling ungracefully off of a chair.

“Open it, open it, open it!!” You chanted over and over again, tugging at his arm enthusiastically.

Bakugou grimaced at your volume. “Stop fucking yelling in my ear, you shitty woman.”

But he froze and his whole body tensed the second he opened the lid.

You blinked at him nervously, brushing back your hair anxiously as you waited for him to say something. Unable to wait as the silence stretched on, you pointed out each one of the items sitting in the container to explain what they were so he didn’t just think you gave him a pile of junk as a gag gift.

“They’re specialized compression arm bands for when you’re out in the field to help reduce the muscle strain but they won’t be affected by your quirk, you’d have to try really hard to destroy them and even then—”

“Thank you.”

You stopped your nervous rambling and blinked up at him in shock. Was that genuine gratitude you detected in his voice without the usual mask of nonchalance?

You giggled, almost not believing your ears. He didn’t even bother disguising it. “Wow, the world must really be ending.”

“Shut the fuck up and die.” Bakugou hissed.

Ah, there it was.

You grinned widely. “You really like it?”

“Course, you shitty woman.” He glowered, slipping them on to try it out.

Bakugou remembered telling you about the strain overusing his quirk caused on his arms but when push came to shove, he didn’t care if he destroyed his body when it came to saving the day. But that was years ago.

Back when you had first met and he had blown you up during a training session. Literally. The burns landed you in Recovery Girl’s office and after that, he had walked in to begrudgingly apologize but you just looked up at him with that same kind face that greeted him everyday and asked him if it always hurt to use his quirk for such huge blasts.

You weren’t even offended by the fact that he had hurt you. It was true that he didn’t ever hold back against opponents, even when training, but even he admitted that he might’ve gone too hard.

Maybe.

But to think you not only remembered it but also worked through that pretty brain of yours to come up with a solution like this.

All the support tech in the world didn’t have a material that could withstand his nitroglycerin when he ignited it.

You were incredible.

Bounding up to your feet eagerly, you didn’t give him any time to throw a tantrum that you had detached yourself from him as you begged for him to try them out.

“Hah?” He glowered. “You want me to use my quirk indoors?”

But he raised his hands anyway. You were always the one to enforce the rule of him not using his explosion inside, since it was destructive even with his fine control over it. You must’ve been really excited to see him try it out.

His palms popped with sparks at first and he raised an eyebrow as a cooling sensation kicked in automatically. Slowly, he built up his power until he fired a controlled AP cannon that shattered the vase from across the room.

You cheered and clapped your hands gleefully at how well it worked. It had changed blue when it activated, signaling that the cooling agent was doing its job.

Flexing his hands, Bakugou noticed how his arms weren't as sore as they normally were.

He took them off and turned it over in his hands, examining it closely. “How did you do it?”

You went on a rant, enthusiasm taking over every inch of your being as you eagerly explained how you created the material, a hybrid of some sort of elastic that could withstand high heats woven in with a cooling agent to soothe his muscles when they were overworked. The threads that made up the compression bands were fireproofed down to their molecular level, an expensive process but possible with the right amount of funds, along with a ton of time and patience.

All of which you had as you spent a huge chunk on the money you had saved up for this.

Your husband’s expression softened into something that vaguely resembled fondness as your eyes shone with excitement over your newest piece of tech. Specially made just for him.

Fuck, he was whipped.

Bakugou buried his face into your chest and you yelped in surprise, tugging his hair to pry him off of your body but he just groaned and stubbornly refused to move.

“Katuski!!” You protested, your hands shooting to the arms that were wrapped around your torso and pressing you close to him. “I’m dirty!!”

A blatant lie since you had bathed with him but you were desperate. This would inevitably end up in the bed if you didn’t push him off you right now.

You had been working in the shop all day to finish these up, just able to wrap the specialized compression sleeves in time before he came home. And because all of your clothes were currently being washed since there was an accident in your workshop a few days ago, you had to throw on your dirty tank top and cargo pants after scrubbing it as best as you could; and it was not the most appealing or flattering on your body.

It was clear your husband thought otherwise though.

“Don’t care.” Bakugou grumbled into your chest, his meaty hands going down to cup your butt.

You smacked his chest, telling him off, squeaking when he retaliated by squeezing your ass firmly. Rolling your eyes at the cheeky smirk on his face, you kissed his nose softly and his expression crumbled away to the softness that you knew had always lurked behind his guard.

“Happy birthday, Katsuki…” You whispered, a millimeter away from his lips. “I love you.”

You hadn’t even finished your declaration before his hand was snaking around the back of your neck, closing the distance in one go and crushing your mouth to his.

You whined as he dominated your mouth, his tongue demanding entrance. You decided to play with him a bit and kept your lips pursed. He growled at your disobedience and you shifted giddily in his lap, yelping when he nipped your bottom lip.

He groaned against your mouth as you ground your pelvis into his.

Bakugou thought this was going to go somewhere with how much you were teasing him but to his frustration, you climbed off of him, panting hard to catch your breath.

You winked. He knew that glint in your eyes.

“Catch me if you can!!” You shouted over your shoulder as you sprinted towards the living room and took refuge behind the couch.

“What the fuck….” He muttered under his breath, shaking his head at your childish antics as you raced out of view.

He stomped into the living room.

“Oi, get out from behind there, dumbass.” He growled.

When you didn’t reply, he rolled his eyes and tapped his foot impatiently.

“I know you’re there, shitty woman.” “He drawled. “I can see your fucking foot.”

Your indignant squeak made the corner of his mouth twitch in amusement but the look was quickly wiped off of his face as a foam bullet whizzed past his ear. You had just declared war.

A wide smirk spread across Bakugou’s face at the invitation of a challenge and forgoing his shirt, he sank low to the ground. He didn’t even bother to take one of the other guns where they were stored. He was going to beat you in hand to hand so easily it was going to be embarrassing.

“Just remember when you fucking lose,” He started, cracking his knuckles loudly. “Don’t come crying, dumbass.”

“I don’t cry— Hey!! That’s cheating!!”

Your confident reply broke out into a whine halfway through your sentence as Bakugou leaped over the couch and tackled you to the floor, pushing the gun away so you couldn’t shoot at him anymore.

“You’re such a fucking child.” He snorted, stealing a kiss from you before you could say anything.

“But you love me anyways~” You sang, repeating your declaration from earlier as you booped his nose softly.

Bakugou huffed indifferently, a proud smirk stretching across his face as his true feelings won over.

“Damn right I do.”

2K notes · View notes

dovechim · 4 years

Text

the happiest place on earth (m)

➾ 24k

➾ summary: in this life, you have two goals. 1. get park jimin to notice you. 2. get into Broadway. (not necessarily in that order). you and jimin have been crew members at Disneyland for over a year, but he’s no closer to being your boyfriend than you are to getting into Broadway. when you get promoted from a fur character to a face character, your hopes and dreams of playing Princess Ariel opposite his Prince Eric are this close to coming true. But what happens when you’re tasked to play the Evil Queen instead?

slice of life au, incredibly cheesy towards the end. basically a lot of fluff with some smut :)

➾ warnings: protected sex, oral (f receiving) this one is pretty mild tbh

➾ a/n: for the purpose of this fic, let’s ignore that Sesame Street and Disney are own by two different companies 🙃 happy 25/26th birthday to one mr park jimin, the only Prince Charming I'll ever fall for 💓 this is just a warning of the cheesiness to come 🧀

The sounds of joyful music are slightly muffled, not just by the constant excited chatter around you, but also by the heavy costume that drags your entire body down. The incredible buildup of body heat is seemingly exacerbated by the sheer amount of bodies around you, little kids who are scampering to get a hold of your soft yellow fur.

“Mommy! I want a picture with Big Bird too!” A toddler’s voice wails from a distance, and you struggle to see out of the tiny little eye holes in the yellow neck of the costume.

Well, the good thing about having to wear this is that you don’t have to fake a smile for the cameras. The permanent grin on Big Bird’s face- er, beak, convinces everyone around you that you fit right in at this place.

The kids are all in giggles as they take turns hugging you with joyful screams and giggles, being towed away by their parents once they’ve got their shot. You can see your handler, Joy, keeping a watchful eye from a distance away to make sure things don’t get too out of hand. Your movements are heavy and cumbersome, but luckily you don’t have to move much because all the kids just crowd around you anyway.

Your time is nearly up. For the safety and well-being of all cast members who are required to wear full costumes, often referred to as fur characters, shifts are restricted to 15 minutes at a time, with a 45 minutes rest time before you go again. And with this weather, you feel as if the 15 minutes can’t go by fast enough.

You glance over enviously at Oscar the Grouch, your usual character, having a much calmer time with the noticeably thinner crowd around him. He’s never been a very popular character, especially not with the kids, since they tend to prefer the bright and cheerful personalities of Big Bird, Elmo and of course Cookie Monster. The blue furry character is dancing energetically on the street, rousing delighted cheers and screams from the kids as he pretends to queue at prop truck selling cookies.

You curse at the management’s decision to have you take over Big Bird’s character today. Better yet, you curse the guy who originally plays Big Bird. Why’d Kim Namjoon have to call in sick today of all days? And why, for heaven’s sake, did middle management think it’d be a good idea to get someone your size, to take his place?

Miserable and sweating bullets, you try your best to wave and move your arms around in some semblance of a dance to entertain the kids.

“Last photo, folks,” Joy waves her hands to get the crowd’s attention with a grin on her face. “Be sure to give Big Bird a big hug, alright?”

Your head jerks sharply in her direction with a steely glare, but it loses all effect because of the stupid goofy Big Bird head. As if the grubby kids around you needed any encouragement to squeeze and grope you in this costume. You swear, one more little kid mashing his face into you, stepping on your feet in the huge orange shoes, and you’ll just scream-

“Alright alright, Big Bird’s gotta go help Cookie Monster bake some cookies now,” Joy gently pries a little boy wearing glasses off you. She loops her arm around your fluffy wing to give you some support as the two of you start shuffling away slowly. “We’ll be back at 3pm! See you all then!”

Even if you hate every second being in this sweat soaked costume, you can’t deny that you’ve definitely noticed a change playing a slightly more popular character. Kids don’t pull faces at you the way they did when you were playing Oscar the Grouch, instead they tell you they love you, their faces light up when they see you, and they fight to be the first in line at for a photo opportunity with you.

There is a small warmth in your chest as you walk painfully slowly and turn down a discreet corner into the staff rest area. Once out of sight from the public, you strip off the bright yellow head as Joy opens the doors of the air-conditioned break room for you.

“Oh my god. That was the longest 15 minutes of my life,” you groan, collapsing down onto the floor dramatically. Joy winces in sympathy as she quickly gets a bottle of water for you, rummaging in the pantry for the good snacks.

“It was extra hot today, wasn’t it? Ugh, I’m dreading my shift next,” Joy tosses you a packet of biscuits.

The door bursts open, and Cookie Monster comes in singing and dancing, his energy seemingly limitless. When he strips off the character’s head, Jeon Jeongguk’s voice comes out even more clearly, the grin on his face still at full power as when he started his shift.

His hair is messy as he runs a hand through it, casting a puzzled glance at you laying down on the floor.

“Wasn’t that a great shift?” Jeongguk enthuses, a happy puppy grin on his face as his handler Kim Taehyung unzips the back of his costume. “The kids were all so cute. This really is the happiest place on earth!”

As if on comedic timing, Oscar the Grouch bursts into the room, and you can hear Min Yoongi cursing and swearing as he can’t get the character’s head off fast enough. From your position on the floor, sipping your water and nibbling at your crackers, you cast a jealous, spiteful glance at him.

What does he have to complain about? Oscar is practically the easiest character to play on Sesame Street!!

The buddy system consists of one character and one handler, and they switch shifts throughout the day. Kim Namjoon calling in sick means that the buddy system is one short today, and Yoongi doesn’t have anyone to switch shifts with. Which means he’s due to go again in less than thirty minutes.

Feeling your strength returning, you sit up again and start to unzip your costume so that Joy can start getting ready. There isn’t any changing room here, but all of you aren’t exactly naked under the costume, so no one has any objections changing in each other’s presence. Your light workout shorts and tanktop are soaked with sweat and sticking to your skin when you climb out of the yellow costume, kicking off the orange shoes before you turn to help Joy into it.

“Goooood afternoon!” A cheerful, happy voice sings out as the door opens, and your entire being perks up in recognition.

His presence brightens the room immediately- even Yoongi looks relieved to see him.

“Jimin? What are you doing here? It’s your day off,” Taehyung is half-way into his transformation into Cookie Monster.

“Heard Namjoon was sick today, so I volunteered to come in to cover,” he says with a happy grin, his eyes creased into a smile. His fluffy dark blue hair looks so soft, and he casts a brief glance across the room, eyes landing on you and Joy, Jeongguk and Taehyung, and then Yoongi, obviously doing the math. “I guess I’m up next in Oscar the Grouch?”

Dammit. One more reason why you’re cursing Min Yoongi, or more accurately, your rotten luck. You could have had a chance to partner with Park Jimin today if you’d stayed as Oscar the Grouch, something you’d been waiting for ever since you joined the park as a character actor.

Unfortunately, your schedule never seems to coincide with his, until today.

“Oh thank fucking God,” Yoongi mutters as he strips himself out of the costume in a hurry. “I’m so happy I could kiss you.”

Park Jimin giggles, a sound that sets off butterflies in your stomach. But nothing prepares you for the way he casually strips off his grey sweatpants to reveal the tight booty shorts underneath, preparing to step into the costume.

You belatedly realise that you are staring at Park Jimin’s very supple ass, and Joy is left to struggle into the Big Bird costume all by herself, with time running out. Turning away with a reddened blush on your cheeks that you hope the others attribute to the heat, you zip her up and hand her Big Bird’s head, leaving her to finish dressing herself as you quickly slip on some jeans and the standard issue polo shirt that handlers wear.

Your throat is dry as you glance at him shyly, wishing more than ever that you could be the one helping him into his costume. Min Yoongi catches the longing glance that you give him, but he can’t be arsed enough to tease you about it.

“C’mon guys, time to go!” Jimin’s smile is blinding as he gets ready to put on Oscar’s head, shuffling towards the door with the garbage bin around his waist. He makes eye contact with you, and your heart skips a beat. “Let’s make this a great shift!”

You’ve never been one for optimism. But somehow, it’s almost bearable when its coming from Jimin.

As you hold Joy’s hand and walk her slowly out to the main street, your attention remains on Jimin in the Oscar costume. Somehow, even in his grimy garbage can, nothing seems to dim his bright personality. He is like the sun as he dances on the street, crouches down in his garbage can, teases the kids and makes them scream with laughter. His movements are large and exaggerated, the way you were all trained to do, and you can’t help but admire his natural talent that can’t be hidden by a costume.

He is an incredible hit with the kids, an unusual occurrence. Someone like Park Jimin really does fit in here. Every bit of his personality suits the happiest place on earth.

Unlike yours.

It’s been almost a year since you joined as a character actor, and by now, practically the whole crew knows about your crush on Park Jimin. Everyone but the man himself, unfortunately. Luck just hasn’t been on your side so far, and most of the time you’re left admiring him from afar.

“So… that was an unexpected surprise,” Joy says as she wipes her face with a tissue, glancing at you in the mirror.

You pretend not to know what she’s talking about as you tie your sweaty hair up into a bun, getting ready to clock out. You and Joy are familiar with this routine, sharing the same schedule ever since the both of you decided that working as an amusement park character would be the best way to boost your resumes and eventually earn you the chance to audition for Broadway someday.

They were big and lofty dreams alright, but as long as you take a tiny step every day, you know you’ll make it eventually.

“You won’t get anything done hoeing around like that you know,” Joy giggles as she spies the nonchalant look on your face. “You need to go out there and get your man. Honestly. Or someone else will.”

You whip your head around to stare at her in panic. “Someone else has their eye on him? Who?”

Joy shrugs carelessly, but you can see the caution on her face as her movements slow. “Well… there are some rumours going around about him and Dahyun…”

“Dahyun? The girl who plays Ariel?” You frown, picturing them together in your mind. “I didn’t know they knew each other.”

“_______... they’re in the same rotation schedule,” Joy says with a hint of pity in her voice. Being the more outgoing of the two of you, she seems to be in on the latest news and gossip.

Or maybe that’s because you always leave the crew group chat on mute.

Sighing in frustration, you toss a used baby wipe into the trash. “How am I supposed to make a move if I can’t even talk to him? We barely even know each other, we’re just co-workers!”

“You and Jeongguk are co-workers, that doesn’t stop him from stealing your Pringles every time you leave them in the pantry, or you from play fighting with him when he does,” Joy points out.

“That’s different!” Your brows furrow in consternation, but you leave it at that. “Anyway, we don’t even have the same shift lined up.”

“Girl, you’re working in the happiest place on earth, where magic and fairytales and your Prince Charming is infinitely possible,” Joy sighs dreamily, waving the wand of her lip gloss around as if it were a real magic wand. “Make it happen.”

It seems like the whole wow factor of working at Disney hasn’t worn off on your best friend. As for your naturally cynical self, you can’t exactly say that you’ve never been amazed by the fact that you work at such a magical place, but it’s not really like you to get sucked in by all the illusion that this place offers.

“Ooh!! Can you imagine if he played Prince Charming, and you played Sleeping Beauty?” Joy almost falls over in her excitement as she grips your arm. “That’s like a magical love story waiting to happen!”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” you grumble at her, but even you can’t help but let a small smile tug at the corners of your mouth. “It’s only been a year since we started, and all new joiners have to start at the bottom for god knows how long. Promotion is practically unheard of. Maybe we’ll be stuck playing Sesame Street characters still we’re old ladies.”

“Don’t say that!” Joy swipes your arm with a pout. “It’s got to do with vacancies as well. As soon as they need someone playing a face character, they’ll bump one of us up. That’s how Dahyun got Ariel within 6 months of joining.”

“Well, let’s hope one of them gets chickenpox or something, that’s the only way I’ll get a lucky break,” you say with a deadpan voice as Joy bursts into giggles, chiding you as you turn to exit the bathroom.

“What’s a princess character like her even want with Park Jimin anyway? Shouldn’t she be romancing, I don’t know, one of the Princes instead?” You can’t get your mind off that rumour of the both of them together.

You find it hard to believe, seeing as there is a very obvious social hierarchy amongst all the crew. The Disney princesses are the queen bees, the very top of the pyramid, along with the Princes. Somewhere around second tier are the less popular princesses such as Mulan, Pochahontas, or Tinkerbell, still very well sought after by guests, but a lot less well known as compared to, say Ariel or Sleeping Beauty. All the furry characters rank at the very bottom, with the only exception perhaps being the classic Mickey Mouse himself.

The hierarchy is so ingrained into the system that you don’t even talk to or hang out with anyone outside of your level. Even in the staff cafeteria, buried in the underbelly of Disney World itself, seating is segregated according to which character you play. It’s like high school all over again.

That’s exactly why Joy’s dream of playing a Disney princess is far-fetched, to say the least. It would be like jumping straight to the top of the hierarchy in the blink of an eye. The best you can hope for is a promotion to a face character. Any face character. Just so you don’t have to wear the unbearably stuffy, disgusting costume anymore.

“What should we eat? I’m in the mood for pizza- oh!” Joy stops in her tracks, and you smack into her back.

“Give me a heads up, would you,” you groan, massaging your forehead, moving to walk around her as you scan your card at the train gantry.

“Oh my god. It’s Park Jimin.” She sounds breathless, and you look up at the mention of his name.

And there he is, seated on one of the benches with his thighs spread in his grey sweatpants, white shirt almost hanging off his shoulder sinfully, and blue backpack slung casually over the other shoulder. He is scrolling through something on his phone, completely absorbed in what he sees on his screen.

“Here’s your chance!” You hear Joy hiss at you, shoving you forward. “Talk to him!”

You are reduced to a blubbering mess, somehow losing control over your limbs as Joy continues to push you forward until you are in his line of sight.

“-don’t want to- agh!”

Jimin glances up at the sound of your voice, a smile of recognition immediately lighting up his face as he puts his phone away.

“Hey! ______, right?”

Even the way he says your name reduces you to a pathetic pile of goo. The mere fact that he knows who you are…!

“U-uh, hi, yeah!” You smile awkwardly at him.

Jimin scoots over and pats the seat beside him invitingly, looking over your shoulder. “And Joy, right?”

“Mhmm, going home?” Joy responds so naturally; you wish you had her ease when it comes to talking to guys. Or anyone, in general.

“Yeah,” Jimin grins his heart melting smile again, this time directing it at you. “Hey, you did great with Big Bird today. It’s tough playing such a tall character- his head is the heaviest, I swear.”

“It-it is,” you stumble a reply back to him. “I don’t usually play Big Bird…”

“I know, your usual is Oscar right?” Jimin beams back. “I don’t know how you do it; it’s so hard to get his character just right! Especially wearing that costume- I feel like I’m behind a mask.”

Now you know he’s also painfully kind on top of everything else; complimenting you even though he easily plays Oscar better than you on your good days. Even the way he takes notice of your usual character makes you feel… dare you say… special.

“Hey, I forgot something back at the park, I’m gonna go back,” Joy says with a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she bids the both of you goodbye. “You two go ahead! I’ll see you tomorrow!”

That sly little minx! You stand up involuntarily, panicking over being left alone with Jimin. At the same time, he grabs your arm to get your attention.

“Hey! The train’s here,” Jimin seems unperturbed by Joy’s sudden departure, getting up and starts walking towards the doors.

You hastily follow him into an empty cabin, struggling to keep your composure and cool your heated cheeks. There aren’t many people going in the opposite direction at this time of the evening, and the both of you find a seat easily.

“Which stop are you getting off at?” You ask, glancing at the map above the train doors.

“The second to last,” he grins with a slight wince. It’s absolutely adorable, the way he scrunches his nose. “I know, long ride right?”

“That’s my stop too!” Your eyes widen as you realise that you’ll be sharing the entire ride with him.

“Guess it’s my lucky day to have company then,” Jimin grins. “I think we joined at around the same time, but we haven’t really talked much.”

“Yeah, about a year ago, I think our schedules just haven’t really matched up,” you smile at him, having to avert your eyes as he ruffles his dark blue hair casually.

He flirts so effortlessly; his smiles are charming, and he draws you in with every word of his. It’s more than you could ever hope for, sharing a nearly empty train ride back with Park Jimin.

“So, is working at Disney everything you ever dreamt of and more?” Jimin asks, his eyes shining bright.

“You mean, did I dream of being stuck in a stuffy, sweaty and smelly costume for four hours a day? Totally,” you say unironically, but it makes Jimin giggle.

“Yeah, that part isn’t the best,” Jimin admits with a hand covering his mouth, still giggling. “I always make sure to air our whatever costume I’m wearing, so that the next person doesn’t have such a bad time.”

And he has a heart of gold too.

“It’ll get better once we get to play the face characters,” Jimin reassures with a few pats on your hand. The physical contact makes your heart skip a beat. “I think it’ll be soon, if we keep doing a good job!”

“Who are you hoping to get?” You desperately hope that he doesn’t see the blush on your cheeks.

“Hmmm, I don’t know. I guess I’ve always been a fan of Aladdin. You know, how cheeky he is and everything. Of course, I don’t think I’ll get a monkey as my sidekick, but still…”

“You’d make a perfect Aladdin,” you can already picture him charming all the little girls, sweeping them off their feet even without a magic carpet.

“What about you?” Jimin asks, a curious gleam in his eyes.

“Uhm… well…” you almost say Jasmine out of pure instinct, but you stop yourself just in time. To be honest, you never really thought about which face character you wanted to play. Getting a foot in the door to work at a Disney Park alone was a dream come true, and you’ve been so absorbed with the toiling labour of playing a fur character that you simply didn’t have the time to dream of something better.

But Jimin’s words have set you thinking. Of course, anyone’s answer might be to play a Disney Princess. It would be an incredible add to your resume. But could you really muster up enough of your acting skills to be in character around people all day? Not only would it be physically tiring like it is now, but it would also be mentally exhausting.

Unless you can find a character that suits you to a T, the way Aladdin suits Jimin. Or rather, the way Jimin can mold himself to suit any character he’s playing. It’s a talent you know you don’t have, and you know it’s an area of improvement for you as an aspiring actress. But somehow, you still can’t bring yourself to give up on your dream of standing upon the Broadway stage one day.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” you admit finally. “I guess… anyone would be fine. As long as it’s not Pluto,” you add in as an afterthought, and Jimin bursts into his musical laughter that travels throughout his entire body.

“You could be Elsa,” he says after a moment, after he’s calmed down. “Cold, a little aloof, but beautiful. I think you’d suit her well.”

The sincerity with which he says this makes your heart flutter. Moments ago, the thought of playing the ice princess and having to sing ‘Let It Go’ to dozens of grubby children would have put you off. You’d never liked that movie, but with Jimin’s suggestion, you ironically find yourself warming up to the idea.

Life has a way of smiling down at certain people. Park Jimin is one of them. And with just one encounter with him, you can feel his good luck rubbing off on you already.

When you check your schedule for the next quarter, your eyes catch on his name along with yours, side by side as handler and character. This time, as your usual: Oscar the Grouch.

You are in a good mood that morning as you clock into the park, heading to the utilities room to retrieve your costume and sign for it. When you reach the desk, you realise that Jimin somehow got here earlier than you did, and already signed out on your behalf.

He’s waiting in the common dressing room, drinking a protein shake and dressed in a muscle tee that shows off a dangerous amount of skin. You catch a glimpse of nipple as he raises his shake to his lips, and your throat goes dry. No one ever comes in for the morning shift this early, so the two of you are alone.

“H-hey, you’re early,” you clear your throat as you slide your backpack off your shoulder.

Jimin turns to face you, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Hey! Yeah, thought I’d get in a workout and start my shift little earlier today. Did you eat yet? I got you a bagel!”

He tosses a warm, buttery package across at you, and you just barely catch it. It’s only when you bite into it and a moan escapes your lips that you realise how essential breakfast is.

“Do you want to go first? Or me?” Jimin abandons his chair to come sit next to you on the couch. “I’m fine with whatever, but I’m a little sweaty right now, so…”

He grins bashfully, rubbing the back of his neck as he does so. It’s incredibly cute, and you have to distract yourself, tearing your eyes away from his almost transparent muscle tee.

“Sure, I’ll take first shift,” you push yourself up from your seat, feeling an intense need to put some distance between you and the dangerously charming man.

You usually dress the same way for work every time- jeans and the standard polo tee, with exercise shorts and a thin tank top underneath. It makes things easier when you have to rotate between being character and handler. With Park Jimin in the same room, you feel a little self-conscious at stripping down in front of him, so you attempt to hide behind the locker as you quickly get rid of your jeans and shirt.

You feel painfully naked as you start to wrangle yourself into the Oscar costume. Jimin sets aside his drink and helps you by holding the bottom half of the costume open for you to step into, his face dangerously close to the apex of your thighs. You can feel his hot breath on your flesh as you gingerly step into Oscar’s trashcan.

Putting on a costume has never felt this intimate before.

“It’s like you were made to play him, you fit perfectly!” Jimin giggles, patting the top of your head. “How cute!”

“You’re one to talk,” you grumble back at him, if only to hide the growing smile on your own face. “You fit into it pretty well last time too.”

The moment is shattered as the door flings open, and Jeongguk and Taehyung come chattering in. They give Jimin a fist bump each, in the natural camaraderie that boys have with each other.

“See ya at break, ______!” Jeongguk calls out playfully, waving a tube full of your Pringles with one hand just to taunt you. Even though you can’t see him with Oscar’s head on, you hear the telltale sound of the chips rattling inside the tube, and you actually growl in annoyance.

“Jeon Jeongguk! I swear if you eat even a single one-“

“I’ll save you the empty can! Hey, does Oscar do recycling or is he just in a normal trash can?”

The difference between your Oscar and Jimin’s Oscar is painfully stark. When it’s his turn, he gets no less than 20 children crowding him at one time. His natural charisma just oozes through the suit.

But rather than discourage you, it actually makes you work even harder. You actually learn a couple of things from observing how he plays Oscar, and by the end of the day, you’re proud to say that you’re on par to compete with even Cookie Monster sometimes.

“Good one today, ______!” Jimin grins as he strips off the green, furry head, pushing his sweaty hair off his forehead.

“You weren’t too bad yourself,” you say with a tiny smile, offering him a pack of wet wipes.

“Hey, I was thinking we should grab a bite to eat,” Jimin turns to look at himself in the mirror, styling his dark blue hair as he rakes through it carelessly with his fingers. “You down?”

You have to stop yourself from grinning from ear to ear, instead answering coolly. “Sure. Where did you have in mind?”

“Cafeteria? I’m craving a Dole Whip myself,” he’s back in his muscle tee again, pulling on a pair of his favourite grey sweatpants.

You’ve never actually eaten anywhere other than the staff cafeteria, and even then, you avoid doing so after shifts because you don’t want to deal with seeing the rest of the crew. But Jimin has such a sweet smile that you don’t have it in you to refuse.

The two of you exit the dressing room, making your way down to the staff cafeteria, buried out of sight from the guests. To be honest, park food isn’t that bad, and the cafeteria serves a selection of it weekly, at a heavily discounted rate for staff.

Jimin’s just pondering over what he should have before Dole Whip, when a small tap on his shoulder makes him turn around.

“Oh- Dahyun! Hey, I didn’t know you’d be here,” Jimin greets her with a grin, and you can’t help but peer around him to get a glimpse of her as well.

She is exquisitely beautiful in a way you know you could never be, her features are dainty and delicate, and you can see why she’s such a good fit for Ariel. She moves with a grace and elegance that comes only with years of dance and stage training, and even in her loose-fitting pants, you can see that she has a figure to die for.

It’s people like her who make it to Broadway.

“It’s my shift starting soon,” she says in a soft, tinkling voice, casting a curious glance at you. “Anyway, I was just coming from the manager’s office. They want to see you.”

“Oh really?” Jimin frowns as he checks his phone. “I haven’t checked my email yet-“

“Yeah, something about a character change,” she smiles in excitement. “Seo Joon’s quitting, so they asked me if I had anyone to recommend to take his place, and I said you! Isn’t that great?”

Jimin seems genuinely enthused as he widens his eyes in realization. “Oh… oh wow! Prince Eric! I… I didn’t think it’d be this soon!”

“You should hurry down so they can give you the official new schedule,” Dahyun claps her hands as she giggles. “There’ll be character training sessions, outfit fittings, oh, and we also have to train together for a bit!”

The two of them almost forget that you are there, and you awkwardly take a step back, which makes Jimin look at you. His elation disappears a little.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I’ll just go attend the meeting real quick. I’m sorry about lunch, we should reschedule and it’ll be my treat!”

“No,” you shake your head and swallow hard, struggling to express that you are really happy for him amidst the all the envy and jealousy swirling in your chest. Because you truly are, he deserves this and so much more. “Go for your meeting. Don’t worry. I’ll just… I’ll uh… just head home.”

“You should get a Dole Whip! It’s the perfect treat after a shift,” he calls over his shoulder as Dahyun shoots you an awkward little smile, turning to follow him.

You watch as the two of them exit the staff cafeteria, already excitedly chattering to each other about god knows what. Yeah, somehow, you don’t think a Dole Whip is about to make things better.

“Prince Eric?” Joy frowns. “Well, I can’t say he doesn’t suit that character, because he would suit any prince, but…”

Now that Jimin had to be swapped out, the only good thing about it is that Joy is back on the same rotation as you again. So it means you can whine to your best friend about how unfair all of this is, how you wish Dahyun would actually get her voice sucked out of her by Ursula.

“They’re gonna look perfect together,” you say glumly. “This is why I don’t hope for anything. The moment I do, it just gets taken away.”

Joy winces as she watches you avert your gaze, untying and tying your shoelace. Your sandwich remains untouched as the two of you hide away in the dressing room during lunch break.

“Sweetie… I’m sorry,” she sighs as she pulls you in so that you can rest your head on her chest. “I’m sure our big break is coming soon. It’s all about that stroke of luck, you know?”

“Only if that lucky break comes in the form of Dahyun’s broken leg,” you grumble. Honestly, you should have seen this coming. Someone as bright and talented and golden as Park Jimin deserves to be with someone who can match him. Someone who can look as good beside him.

In other words, definitely not you. Children run away from you when they see you. They cry when they see your face. Even when you’re hidden and concealed behind a costume, they still can’t bring themselves to come any closer to you.

Your thoughts are interrupted by Jeongguk throwing open the door, still stuffing his face with a Mickey ice cream sandwich. His eyes land on the both of you, take in your disgruntled expression, then he continues to scarf down the rest of his sweet treat. Taehyung follows close behind, holding a bunch of snacks in his arms and dumping them all on the table.

“Whats wrong with her?” Jeongguk gestures with his sticky hands, stomping around in his heavy Timberland boots.

This dressing room is somewhat of a cosy reprieve, not only from the sweltering heat out there, but also away from all the other crew members. It’s long been established that it belongs to the select few of you who have the misfortune to be playing the fur characters, while the face characters are assigned the bigger, more luxurious dressing rooms for them to do their makeup and hair in. However, since the fur characters don’t need much prep other than climbing into a large furry suit, this dressing room only has the bare minimum.

You don’t mind though, because over the past year, it has come to feel like home. Ending a shift and collapsing on the couch, bickering with Jeongguk about the snack stash, coming in early to find Yoongi pulling an all nighter on the couch from the day before, getting annoyed with all of Taehyung’s junk everywhere. Getting secretly drunk after park hours with Joy and sneaking out to avoid getting into trouble.

As much as you hate to admit it, the few of you have become family.

“Not in the mood, Jeon, run along,” you shoot him a warning glare, but he is all too used to your caustic words, and sometimes you think he even enjoys riling you up.

“Might this have something to do with a certain Park Jimin getting to play Prince Eric?” Jeongguk is more astute than he lets on, but then again, it could be just because he actually bothered to read the crew schedule today.

“Who’s playing who?” Yoongi enters with a cup of cold brew in hand, sucking it down like it’s his lifeblood. All this while, you’ve never actually seen him eat something solid.

“Jimin is Prince Eric, opposite Dahyun’s Ariel,” Jeongguk repeats in delight, all too happy to take part in your misery.

Joy shoots him a glare and moves to cover your ears. “Gee, I don’t think you could rub that in any harder, Jeon.”

“That’s what I’m here for,” he snickers, moving toward the lockers in the corner for his bag to start getting ready for the afternoon’s shift. At the last minute, however, he turns back to glance at you, still lying motionless on the couch, with a look of mild concern on his face. He looks like he’s about to say something, but lets it go at the last minute.

“I hope when we get promoted, we all get it at the same time,” Taehyung says earnestly, looking around at the rest of your faces. “I just wanna stay with you guys forever. Park can go play Prince Eric for all I care, honestly.”

Yoongi finishes his coffee, discarding the cup into one of the trash bins. “Can’t say he doesn’t deserve it though.”

With a resigned sigh, because the older man is right, you go about getting ready for your shift. Something tells you that today is going to be harder than it usually is.

You go through the motions of your job like you do every single day, stooping inside your little garbage can, twirling little children around, taking pictures and trying your best to be in character. It’s just the start of your third shift for the day, when something out of the ordinary happens.

You first catch wind of it through the children’s excited chatters.

“Pwincess Ariel is coming!” A little girl with a lisp says, pulling at the arm of her sister next you. “Huwwy up, we gotta go see her! Leave Mister Oscar alone!’

Her sister all but shoves you away in her excitement, causing you to nearly topple over in the heavy character suit, but luckily Joy is there to support you. All the children around you suddenly scatter, screaming and crying as they tumble toward the other end of the street.

“It’s Ariel! And Pwince Eric!” The same girl yells, and your breathing slows to a stop.

What? Why would they come down to the Main Street? Princesses and Princes usually stay in their own zone, in their castles if they have one, unless it’s parade time, which it most definitely isn’t. In a matter of minutes, your side of Main Street is left deserted, you and Joy standing pathetically alone in the middle of the road as you watch all the kids surround the perfect royal couple.

Jimin is absolutely radiant in his white blazer and dark blue pants that fit him perfectly. He looks every bit like royalty with gold embellishments on his shoulders, gold buttons down the front, and a sash to accompany his top half, while his long legs are accentuated by his boots. His newly dyed black hair is parted down the middle, swept back off his forehead to expose his sweetly smiling eyes as he greets everyone around him.

He walks as if he is on a runway. The audience is captivated by him; he steals the show even from the beautiful Ariel herself. Girls are falling at his feet to take pictures with him, children are asking if he has a white horse with him, and parents are sighing with adoration over how perfect he and Ariel look as a couple. It’s like a Disney movie come to life.

Everyone coos in admiration as the handsome Prince Eric gets down on one knee to a tiny girl dressed in an Ariel costume, takes her hand and kisses the back of it. Then the real Princess Ariel sweeps in with her green dress and flowing, shiny red hair, on the other side of the little girl, and the three of them pose for a picture together.

You are awestruck at how realistic they look together. They look as if they’ve just stepped out of a live action Disney movie.

“God damn,” Joy says under her breath as Jimin offers his hand to Dahyun, and the two of them continue their mini parade down the street. “He really does look perfect.”

It’s as if Jimin was born to play Prince Eric.

The two of them are fast approaching you and the other Sesame Street characters. Cookie Monster spreads his arms wide in welcome, doing a little jig that has the children screaming with laughter. He pretends to ask Prince Eric if he has any cookies, and their mini impromptu skit delights the audience. Worse still, Jeongguk in the Cookie Monster costume fawns over Princess Ariel too, gesturing for them to hold hands as he pretends to act as their royal butler, doing a deep bow that nearly has him toppling over.

Your legs feel weak and you opt to crouch down in your trashcan, making Oscar the Grouch look even smaller and more pathetic, all alone on the Street.

“Hey, are you okay? Do you need to have a rest?” Joy crouches down beside you in concern.

“…fine…” you mumble, but you can’t really be heard inside Oscar’s head. But then, it actually might be a good idea to escape back to the dressing room before Jimin and Dahyun make it down here. You turn to tell Joy that you want to go back, but then a little child approaches you out of nowhere.

“Mister Oscar?” A tiny, petulant voice calls, and you turn around to face it.

It’s a little boy with glasses, dressed in an Oscar T-shirt and with an Oscar headband. He looks shyly up at you, but even from inside Oscar’s head, you can see his eyes are filled with wonder and amazement.

“Can I have a picture please?” He asks politely, and Joy jumps to her feet.

“Of course! And would you like an autograph too? Where’s your book?” She helps the little boy with his book and pen, and glad for something else to focus on, you take the pen and open the book to the right page.

“Whats your name?” Joy asks, so that you can write it along with your autograph.

“Seokjin,” he pronounces clearly. “You’re my favourite Sesame Street character,” the boy says with a proud smile, pointing to his Oscar T-shirt. No matter how foul your mood is, that’s bound to melt your heart a little, and you express it through your actions, holding your hands to your heart for a second before spreading your arms for a giant hug.

As you feel the squirmy little body in your arms, you hear a familiar voice behind you.

“Ah, how sweet!” It’s Prince Eric, and he looks on at the scene with his sweet smile. “Mister Oscar, thank you for keeping our streets so clean always!”

You release the child from your hug and look up at Jimin. His smile seems a little bigger than it was just now, and his eyes are trained on the exact spot where yours would be if you weren’t wearing the suit. For a moment, you wonder if he knows that it’s you inside the suit.

“Mister Oscar is smelly!” A child yells out from somewhere, and a dozen giggles follow. “He loves trash!”

Ouch. As much as it’s true, children can be rather thoughtless with their comments sometimes. You struggle to stay in character even as your character head droops a little, retreating into your trash can.

There is an awkward silence from the crowd, and even Dayhun’s smile is frozen, at a loss for words, and there’s even a look of pity in her eyes. You can feel Seokjin beside you grasp your hand a little tighter in defensiveness as he puffs his chest out.

But before he can say anything, Prince Eric frowns, turning to face the general direction of the child who had insulted you. “That isn’t very nice, is it?” He reprimands the child gently, and the crowd quiets down. “Mister Oscar has feelings too, and how do you think he might feel if you say that?”

The girl who had called you smelly looks guilty as Jimin admonishes her. “Sowwy, Prince Eric and sowwy, Mister Oscar.”

Prince Eric’s radiant smile is back on his face as he pets her head once. “That’s better. Now, you have a great day and enjoy yourselves in the Magical Kingdom. Have a great day, Mister Oscar!”

You pretend to bow as the royal couple take their leave.

“I don’t get it,” you say in a fit of anger as you sponge the sweat off your neck. “Why would he- they- come all the way down to Main Street?”

“Forget about it,” Joy soothes as she digs out a tube of original flavoured Pringles from her bag and offers it to you. “Shall we have soju or beer today? And chicken? It’s my treat.”

You take the tube from her and open it, shoving a stack of chips into your mouth, feeling better once you taste the salt. You’re no stranger to getting insulted by children, but somehow today stings more than usual. “I bet Ariel doesn’t get any children telling her she’s trash.”

Joy sighs, but doesn’t say anything.

You gather up your things to leave, pulling your hair back in a drooping ponytail. “Rain check? I’m not really feeling it today.”

“Sure,” Joy agrees, watching you pack your things, not even bothering to hide the tube of Pringles somewhere Jeongguk can’t find it. “Call me when you get back!”

The trek to the train station is longer than usual, lonelier without Joy to accompany you, but it’s better for you to be alone with your thoughts anyway.

You’re no stranger to fielding slightly abusive and insulting comments from children. Usually, you’re able to just brush it off because you tell yourself that children don’t really mean what they say. But the past incident has taken a toll on your psyche, and you can feel yourself dragging your feet to work.

On top of the next month’s schedule, you get another email from management asking you to drop by their office before your next shift.

Jeongguk catches you on the way to the management’s office, in the midst of finishing a Dole Whip from the cafeteria. The sight of it reminds you of Jimin and his promise to make up that missed lunch date.

“Here to see management?” Jeongguk asks, following you inside and offering you a spoon of the sweet yellow dessert. You open your mouth grudgingly, and the taste is not bad as it melts on your tongue. It does calm your nerves a little, though.

“Let’s hope it’s nothing bad,” you mumble under your breath.

Knocking on the door, you enter the corporate office, which looks very ordinary. No such trace of the Disney magic here. The receptionist directs you to the head of Character Management.

The head of Character Management is a stern looking lady with her hair pulled back into a bun. Kim Sejeong bids you and Jeongguk to sit down, lacing her fingers together.

“I’ve called the both of you in for some very good news today,” she begins, a hint of a smile on her otherwise serious face. “A career advancement. The two of you are being promoted to face characters.”

Your heart leaps in your chest, and Jeongguk can’t help but grin.

A lucky break. This is what you’ve been waiting for all this time. You can barely contain your excitement as your mind starts to race. Who could it be? Dare you even hope that you might be playing a Disney Princess? You’d be thankful even if it was one of the lesser known princesses. Mulan? Alice in Wonderland?

“First of all, Jeongguk.” She turns her gaze towards the boy with the bunny grin beside you. “You’ll be playing Gaston from now onwards.”

You nearly snort in laughter. Vain, idiotic, attention seeking Gaston who can’t read nor spell his name? It’s a perfect fit for Jeongguk. You can already see him in your mind’s eye, flaunting his muscles and bickering non-stop with the Beast.

Just as long as you don’t have to play Belle.

“And you, Ms _______,” she turns her gaze to you next. Your heart completely stops in your chest, trying to anticipate what’s coming next.

Maybe you’ll finally get a likeable character. Someone like Cinderella, and then kids won’t say mean things to you anymore.

“You’re going to play The Evil Queen, Snow White’s stepmother.”

“Oh my god!” Joy can barely contain herself when she hears the news. “I’m so happy for you! Finally, you got a face character!!”

Somehow, you don’t really share her excitement. It’s one of your last few times playing a fur character, and you can’t say you’ll miss it. Jeongguk was the first to break the news to everyone the moment he got back to the dressing room. As one of the first few to be promoted to a face character, it is definitely liberating, but a part of you is unsure of the uncertainty that lies ahead.

“At least you can attend the character crash course together,” Taehyung says gloomily at the prospect of losing his best friend.

“She’s lucky to be accompanied by my dashingly handsome self,” Jeongguk pretends to flex a bicep, already getting into the role of Gaston. It doesn’t seem like he’ll need much training to assimilate.

“It’s the Evil Queen,” you say quietly to Joy. “Who likes her? It’s even worse than Oscar the Grouch.”

Everyone knows that the fur characters occupy the bottom of the hierarchy. But what they don’t acknowledge is that the villains are barely a rung higher than them. It’s even worse now that you won’t have the character costume to hide behind. You’re going to have to step up your acting skills, and actually talk to and interact with guests who might be snarky and even meaner to you now.

“C’mon, it’ll be great for your resume. I can already see it. You’re gonna ace it, then you’ll snag the audition for Maleficient,” Joy is already thinking ahead. “And the role is practically perfect for you! Honestly, I was a little worried because I didn’t see you as the type to go around cooing at little children and hugging them and everything. This suits you way better.”

“Wow, thanks for the compliment,” you shoot back at her.

Joy only sighs. “You know what I mean.”

“We have a bigger problem,” Taehyung interrupts as Jeongguk continues to flex at himself in the mirror. “Who’s gonna take your places? It’ll be like breaking up the Fabulous Five. We won’t even see each other anymore. You’ll be using the huuuge dressing rooms. We’ll become like strangers!”

You sigh at Taehyung’s overreaction. “That won’t happen, Tae. Even if Jeongguk and I graduate from fur characters, it doesn’t mean we won’t hang out anymore. We’ll still come back here after shifts and all. I mean, this is the only dressing room that has a TV!”

“I guess…” Taehyung doesn’t seem convinced. “You’ll still come and visit though right?” He pokes Jeongguk in the ribs, causing the younger boy to flinch in the midst of practicing one of his Gaston poses.

“Of course he will, the bigger dressing rooms don’t have nearly as good a snack selection as we do,” Yoongi says off-handedly from his position stretched out across the couch. “And Jeongguk’s got all his weights stacked in the corner there. It’ll take him ages to move it over.”

As much as Yoongi seems to be aloof most of the time, the eldest crew member actually does seem to have a heart at times. His words do the job of reassuring Taehyung well enough, and the subject is left alone as everyone starts to get ready for their shifts.

“Hey, you on for the all-nighter today?” Jeongguk nudges you with his arm as you slip past him to put away your bag. “We gotta watch Beauty and the Beast and Snow White at least three times each before we start character training.”

“Who said I wanted to watch it with you?” You turn your nose up at him.

“Together? Ew,” Jeongguk expresses his dissatisfaction in a similar manner, scrunching up his nose. “I didn’t mean it like that, you idiot! It’s just, I know for a fact you’re too poor to afford a TV at home, and we happen to have both films on hand here…”

Jeongguk pauses for a moment as he looks at Taehyung, Yoongi and Joy, all of whom are currently absorbed in a discussion of whether the turkey leg tastes better with or without mustard.

“… unless you guys wanted to watch it too?” He has to raise his voice to be heard over Taehyung’s valiant defense of ketchup.

“No thanks, I hate fairytales,” Yoongi grumbles, waving the offer away. You all know Yoongi only came on board because he’d been offered the chance to play Darth Vader, but at the last minute got scammed into Sesame Street.

“Why would we wanna be holed up in here watching the same movie over and over when we could be getting fried chicken?” Joy grins unapologetically, and Taehyung chimes in.

“With extra ketchup!”

“Alright, fine!” You toss one of Jeongguk’s white shirts at him. “I guess it’s just us.”

“… I brought snacks,” he holds up a bag of Pringles with a mischievous smile.

And you’re sold.

“Did you actually shower?” Your eyes widen in disbelief as Jeongguk returns to the dressing room after both your shifts have ended, hair wet and dressed in fresh clothes.

“I’m not a slob, you know,” he grumbles as he makes a futile attempt to dry his hair one last time. “I got us some food from the cafeteria on the way back. They had orange chicken from Nine Dragons.”

“Really? That’s different,” you sit up in interest. “Oh my god. Are those pork belly buns too?”

“How’d you know? You never go down to the cafeteria anyway,” Jeongguk opens up another box containing shrimp fried rice, and the whole room smells so good.

“I don’t like navigating that political jungle,” you say with a mouth full of delicious, savoury pork. “You ready? I’m gonna start Snow White first.”

Jeongguk begins to devour the food as the two of you settle in to watch the movie. You have a pen and pad by your side to take down some notes on the Evil Queen’s character, how she interacts with the other characters, and some of her more iconic lines.

She’s overall a very snarky and witty character, and the more you watch, the more you think you might enjoy playing her after all. Her personality is not unlike your own, and some of the things she says are straight up savage.

“Oh! You should definitely call people peasants,” Jeongguk chimes in, a fistful of chips in the air.

“You think? Wouldn’t that be too much?” You are doubtful, but you write it down anyway, figuring you could always run it past the trainer during the sessions.

“Please. You’re a Queen. Everyone else simply must bow,” Jeongguk does a horrible impression of a British accent, which sends you giggling so hard that you nearly drop your plate.

“Maybe I’ll even come by as Gaston and steal all the attention from you. How’s that?” Jeongguk grins cheekily, and you roll your eyes.

“Oh please, as if your ugly face could ever.”

The two of you are laughing so hard that you don’t hear the knock at the door until it creaks open.

“Um… hi?” A familiar, honeyed voice makes you turn around.

It’s Park Jimin, the last person you expected to see. You’re suddenly aware of how this must look, of how you must look, dressed down in your sweats and junk food all over the place.

“Jimin! What are you doing here?” You attempt to straighten your shirt and sit up straight, pausing the movie.

“I know it’s late, but I hoped you’d still be here, so I decided to come and check,” he says shyly, averting his gaze to the floor. “I thought you’d be leaving soon… and maybe we could leave together.”

“We’re in the middle of a movie,” Jeongguk states the obvious, and you slap his wrist to get him to shut up, but he ignores you. “It’s for our character training.”

Realisation dawns across Jimin’s face. “Oh- oh! That’s right! I heard the good news. You’re being promoted to a face character! Congrats, that’s so great. I know you’ll do so well.”

Is he saying that to compliment your acting skills, or is he maybe insinuating that someone like you has the personality akin to an Evil Queen? Knowing pure, sweet Jimin, it’s probably the former, but your traitorous mind can’t help but doubt it.

“Um… thanks,” you smile hesitantly back at him. “I… I saw you as Prince Eric. You were… you were great.”

He blushes cutely, and you can feel Jeongguk rolling his eyes beside you.

“Well, um… glad to have you as a face character too. Maybe we’ll see each other more often. I think our zones are pretty close to each other,” Jimin ruffles his jet-black hair once, bringing your attention to the metal rings on his fingers. “So… see you around!”

“Wait!” You spring up from the couch, making it to the door before he can disappear fully. “I’ll um… I’ll walk you out.”

After not seeing him for more than a month, you can’t let him slip away that easily. Especially not when he looks this good, dressed down in a black shirt and black ripped jeans.

“If you need help with getting used to face characters, I could give you some pointers,” Jimin grins as you start to walk alongside him. “Or if you need help coming up with ‘outs’.”

“’Outs’? What are those?” You’re unfamiliar with the term.

“It’s when someone asks you to do something you’re not allowed to, like accepting food, or even hugs, if you don’t want to,” Jimin explains. “Or if they ask weird questions you don’t know how to answer. Usually it involves weaving in your character’s backstory to make it more believable.”

“Oh wow. I had no idea being a face character would be so difficult,” you can’t help but start to worry about how different it is from what you’re used to.

“It’s not that hard. This girl asked if she could marry me, right in front of Princess Ariel!” Jimin giggles. “Dahyun wasn’t very pleased.”

You go quiet at the mention of her, and the easy, joking atmosphere between the both of you fades. The park is dark and quiet, all the shops are shuttered, and in general, it is a much gloomier and more eerie place than you’re used to.

“Anyway, I think you’ll do a good job.” Jimin has a way with words that always seems to reassure you.

You come to the entrance of the train station, and you stand awkwardly as Jimin looks for his train pass.

“I’ll see you around?” You offer hopefully.

“Of course!” Jimin grins, turning to tap his pass. But then he hesitates. “Hey, um… maybe we should exchange numbers. In case… in case you need help with the training or something.”

“Y-yeah, that’s a great idea,” you fumble for your phone and present it to him, noting how cute his fingers look as he types in his number, giving himself a missed call so he’ll have your number too before he gives it back to you. You notice that he’s named himself in your contacts with a cute little chick emoji.

“I should be getting back now,” you have to stop yourself from fawning over how cute he is.

“Oh yeah! Shouldn’t keep… uh… Jeongguk from waiting too long,” Jimin scratches the back of his neck. “It’s kinda dark, will you be okay walking back alone?”

“I’ll be fine, I do it all the time,” you wave his concern away.

“You should text me when you get back,” Jimin says over his shoulder as he taps his train pass, then crosses the gantry. It’s only then that you realise that he might think you and Jeongguk are something more than friends, judging from the way he said his name.

“Jeongguk! He’s just…” You blurt out, causing Jimin to turn around, a few steps into the train station with a slightly confused look on his face.

Your cheeks are burning as your voice trails off. “He’s um… just a friend.” You finish lamely.

“Oh.”

Maybe it’s a little hard to tell in the dark, but you could have sworn you saw the smile on his face get a little brighter.

You can do this. This is only a tiny step of a multitude of challenges to come.

Knocking timidly on the door, you let yourself into the unfamiliar dressing room, Jeongguk close behind you.

“What if they eat us alive?” Jeongguk stage whispers into your ear.

“Don’t be an idiot,” you elbow him in the ribs in irritation as you attempt to swallow back your intimidation, walking to the dressing room with what you hope is a confident stride. “The worst they can do is stare us down.”

It must be at least three times the size of your old dressing room. There are two rows of dressing tables and chairs on their side, with brightly lit mirrors and bottles of makeup gathered neatly on the tables. At the back are two private changing rooms, one male and one female.

A few of the dressing tables are already occupied, and you don’t recognize most of the crew members currently here. But by the looks of their costumes, you gather that they play Princess Jasmine, Cinderella, and Aladdin respectively.

Walking cautiously to one of the dressing tables in the back, you set your bag down, realizing that there are private lockers stowed beneath the dressing tables themselves. You’ve never had this much space for your stuff before, even a dedicated hanger beside the mirror for you to hang your costume.

Jeongguk sets up shop beside you. “This is weird. It’s like there’s too much space.”

“Where’s Taehyung’s junk when you need it?” You attempt to make a joke to ease your own nervousness, even as you pull up a picture of the Evil Queen herself and start working on your makeup the way the character trainers had taught you to.

Being your first time playing her, you want to get everything right, so you make sure to come more than an hour before your shift is due to start. As the next half an hour passes, more and more crew members start to fill up the dressing room, but they keep mostly to themselves, and leave you and Jeongguk alone at the back.

Dark purple eyeshadow, dramatic brows, and red lipstick. You had been practicing this by yourself at home all weekend, so it goes pretty smoothly. To finish, you layer on the blush to complete the look. Now all you have to do is get into your costume in the private changing room.

A purple ankle length dress with sleeves, and a dramatic black cape with a high white collar to match. You have to tie back your hair so that you can secure the headpiece of the costume and affix the golden crown on the top of your head. When you look in the mirror, you don’t even recognize yourself.

You look tall. Intimidating. The thick layer of makeup has completely transformed all your features. You look like the witch from the nightmares you had as a five-year old. You try an experimental swish of your cape, and the resulting action makes you feel powerful.

There is a knock on the changing room door.

“Hello? Are you done in there? We still have to get changed.”

You open the door to see Dahyun’s slightly annoyed face morph into a semblance of a smile as she takes in your appearance. “Wow… um, ________. You look… um… great.”

The girls behind her giggle, and you know it is far from a compliment she’s paying you.

And maybe it’s because going through the ritual of transformation into someone else has truly changed you, because you can almost feel the Evil Queen’s aura that prevents you from doing something you usually would, like lowering your head or scurrying away in shame.

“I know,” you say, and you walk away in a swish of velvet fabric and shocked stares trailing after you.

It’s a hot afternoon as usual, but nothing you can’t handle. After being stuck in a stuffy little costume, getting to feel the slight breeze on your cheeks as a face character feels like heaven.

You hang out by the Wishing Well, practicing your cape swirls and finding that you enjoy it a lot more than you’d thought. It’s a quiet start to your first time playing the Evil Queen, and you try not to let the nerves get to you. Most of the visitors just walk by you and smile awkwardly without doing anything.

Your first customer is a child wearing the trademark Mickey Mouse ears. She approaches you timidly, holding out a red apple to you. The Evil Queen never smiles, so you glance down at the child, clasping a hand to your chest as your eyes widen in approval.

“Why hello there child, is that apple for me?”

The child nods so hard that their Mickey Ears nearly fall off, and you have to admit, they are kind of cute.

“Are you absolutely sure? Well then, thank you very much, I must say you have great taste. Even if you do like to wear rat ears on your head…” You take the apple gently from the child and raise it high in the air. “Behold! The most gorgeous apple in the kingdom, only suitable for the fairest queen in the land of course!”

You glance down at the child again, who seems to be more than excited that you accepted their gift. “Would you like a picture child? Alright then, where is your caretaker?”

The child grasps a fistful of your cloak in their hands as she points to her parents, waving a camera, and you pose for the picture, arms folded regally and eyebrows raised. When you see that the child kind of just freezes up for the camera, you take it upon yourself to bend down so that you are eye level with her, gently helping her to fold her arms and copy your facial expression.

You can feel her parent’s laughs of delight when they finally take your picture again, the child a carbon copy of your regal and intimidating self. When they come to collect their child, they flash you a grateful smile, and that tiny bit of affirmation is all you need.

After the ice has been broken, you feel much more at ease with the crowd. A few more people approach you for pictures, and you manage to maintain a friendly bicker with them while still staying in character. You ask for compliments, admiring yourself in their front view cameras, dissing Snow White when they bring her up, and when they leave, they bring a new crowd in along with them, all of whom are entertained by how self-absorbed and vain you are.

“Queen, queen! Oh, my queen,” a teenage girl raises her hand. “Who do you think is better looking, you or Gaston?”

“Gaston!?” You gasp in horror dramatically. “That terrible excuse for a man? You must be joking.”

“But I asked him, and he said he thinks he’s the most handsome!”

You wave them away with a roll of your eyes. “Oh please. Have you seen that pathetic little stallion tail he has for hair?”

“I heard someone was talking about me?” A loud, blasting voice sounds from behind you, and you turn to see Jeon Jeongguk dressed up as Gaston approaching, hands on his hips.

His costume consists of a large amount of shoulder and chest padding, and his red tunic is stretched tight across his naturally huge thighs. You have to say, he does have the body to play Gaston, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t look ridiculous. You almost want to burst out in laughter, but somehow you manage to keep it in.

“Only about how ugly you are,” you say with a wave of your cape.

“Ugly?” Jeongguk is affronted. “That is a word I’ve never heard in my life.”

“With how small your vocabulary is, I’m not surprised,” you examine your flawless nails, and smirk in satisfaction when a few people around you clap in delight at your comeback.

“Look at all these people here to see me!” Jeongguk goes on as if he never heard you, spreading his arms to flex his biceps to welcome the cheers of the crowd. More and more people are now gathering around the two of you. “They must be amazed by how handsome I am.”

“They are here to see me,” you clarify. “That is, before you barged in so uncouthly. Don’t you have better things to do? Like groom that monstrosity of a dog in your backyard?”

“Did she just refer to the Beast as a dog?” Hushed whispers and giggles come from around you, and you don’t have to do much to hide your smirk.

“They’re admiring the size of my muscles, of course!” He strikes a pose down on one knee, flexing one bicep, and some of the girls actually swoon at his good looks. A part of you secretly thinks that he ignored the second part of your insult because he doesn’t know how to respond to it in an appropriate PG manner. Instead, he focuses on making sure everyone around him can see him flexing his biceps.

You can tell that he is enjoying every bit of the attention he gets, as some of the crowd ‘ooh’s and ‘aah’s at his show, and the competitive spirit inside you gets ignited.

“A true Queen does not need to compliment herself, for she has her servants to do it for her,” you gesture at the crowd impatiently. “Well? Compliment me!”

“The fairest in all the land!”

“Snow White is ugly!”

“My Queen, you are so beautiful!”

With every compliment, you nod in approval, and it’s clear the crowd is having a great time. Some of them are even recording your impromptu little skit with Gaston.

It’s the most fun you’ve had playing a character since you started working here. For once, you can kind of let go and be yourself without worrying if you’ll be good enough.

Jeongguk gathers his little fanclub that has formed around him. “Come on, let’s go tell Belle how handsome I am.” He struts off, one arm around a girl each as they follow him back to his zone giddily.

“Ugh, good riddance,” you sigh and continue to admire yourself in a mirror someone gives you. “I dislike him almost as much as Snow White.”

Some of the crowd actually looks a bit upset when Gaston leaves, and you observe with slight surprise that they really enjoyed this impromptu skit between you. You make a mental note to yourself to talk about this with Jeongguk after your shift, to see how the both of you can arrange more regular visits for him in the future. The fact that both of your characters aren’t even in the same story means you have even more freedom to come up with their interactions.

The afternoon passes quickly, and you feel more settled into your role, even starting to have fun once you realise that you can pretty much just make up your lines on the spot. It’s even more enjoyable once you realise that playing a villain is essentially getting paid to insult visitors.

You’re just about to get ready to end your shift when you spot a large crowd approaching your area. At the very front, you spot Dahyun as Ariel, striking with her red wig and flowing green dress, and slightly behind her is-

Your throat closes up as you see Jimin in his prince costume again, the navy blue of his blazer making his white ruffled dress shirt stand out even more. His black hair is side parted, his eyes are smiling as he trails after his partner. It’s been a while since you last saw him in character, but he never fails to take your breath away.

When Dahyun spots you at the Wishing Well, you can almost swear that she slows down, turning behind her to reach out a hand to Jimin. At first the prince doesn’t notice her outstretched hand, as he leans to take a selfie with a visitor, but once he catches sight of it, he takes her hand without a second thought, tucking it into the crook of his arm in one smooth, natural motion.

You school your features into a look of disdain, but you don’t even have to pretend to begin with.

Making sure that they are within ear shot, you swish your cape in disinterest. “Does anyone smell anything fishy? Oh. It’s that fish-girl.”

You swear you can actually see the look of shock cross her pretty features, and she opens her mouth, but no words come out.

“Gaping like a fish too,” you say with a wave of your hand, and the visitors around you gasp at your savage comment. “Begone, trespasser, shouldn’t you be in an aquarium somewhere?”

Some of the visitors near you are laughing and even taking videos of you, and they are just loving the savagery that you dish out. Their impressed murmurs only serve to boost your confidence, especially when you see Dahyun’s reaction.

She only attempts to smile prettily at the crowd, unable to come up with a witty comeback, but you can see her grin is forced and doesn’t reach her eyes.

You haven’t dared to look straight at Jimin yet, but your eyes land on their joined hands instead. Clasping a hand to your chest in disgust, you roll your eyes. “Ugh, they’re holding hands. Someone please remove them from my presence.”

And then, even as you’re trying your very best not to look at the one person who has undoubtedly captured all your attention, your eyes can’t help but be drawn to the way his eyes widen when he sees you.

Suddenly a bead of insecurity creeps up in your chest. Surely he must think you look revolting like this. That’s what everyone thinks when they see a Disney villain. You are, quite literally, playing the villain in the love story between him and Dahyun. You might not be from the same fairytale, but the idea is there.

She’s the princess, he’s the prince.

And you’re the villain.

The two of them approach your Wishing Well at a steady pace, Jimin’s pretty eyes have now thankfully returned to their normal size as he runs his hand through his silky black hair, waving and blowing kisses to the crowd. He doesn’t even spare you a single glance, and it stings.

You can imagine your face is a really bright shade of purple, if your emotions are anything to judge by.

“Ma-madam,” a whimpering child approaches hesitantly at your feet, and you nearly startle. You didn’t see them approach, all your attention being focused on the prince and his princess.

“Yes, child, what is it,” your voice coming out a little more huffy than you wanted it to. But still, no one around you sees this as out of character, and you suddenly remember who you’re supposed to be playing.

You’re allowed to be a little mean.

“Are you… are you a witch?” The child’s large, inquisitive eyes gaze up at you, and you stare back at her with your chin lifted high.

Jimin and Dahyun are within earshot now. You can feel as if the crowd is holding its breath expectantly, waiting for your answer.

“A witch?” Your voice rises, scandalized. You do a graceful swish of your cape as you spin around, arms spread dramatically. “How can a witch be this beautiful, child?”

It’s a lie. All of it is a lie, because you don’t feel the least bit beautiful. Especially not in this getup, especially not in front of Dahyun with her porcelain skin and fiery red hair that compliments it so well.

But the crowd eats it up with cheers and laughter, clapping and chanting your character’s name. All the attention is now on you, and the prince and his princess are left to pass by quietly.

Maybe your acting skills have improved, but you’re pretty sure that you’re the only one in the whole crowd who didn’t buy that act one bit.

“You’re viral!!! Oh my god. Have you SEEN this?” You’re attacked by some kind of rabid animal the moment you step into the fur character’s changing room.

It turns out to be only Joy, who seems beside herself with excitement. She’s currently still in her Oscar costume with the head off, that’s why you mistook her for a rabid animal in the first place. The fur of her costume nearly suffocates you as she’s all up in your face.

It’s late, you’ve just finished your last shift and all you want to do is collapse on the couch for a few minutes before you have to muster up the energy for the train ride home. Today took more out of you than you realized.

“You’re viral,” Taehyung grunts from a corner, attempting a few sets with Jeongguk’s weights that are clearly too heavy for him. “She’s been saying that over and over for the past few hours.”

“What are you talking about?” You say wearily, trying to focus on the phone that Joy is waving around in your face before you just grab it from her in your impatience.

It’s a Youtube video titled “EVIL QUEEN PUTS GASTON IN HIS PLACE” and it was just uploaded only a few hours ago. But it already has a million views and counting.

Slightly more awake now, you start to focus on the short three-minute video. It was just taken today, and you hear yourself insulting Gaston for a bit, before actually bickering with him when he shows up. The camera work is shaky, clearly taken by someone in the audience.

“Did you read the comments yet?” Joy says breathlessly as she peeks over your shoulder. “Read them. They’re gold.”

You start to scroll down to the comment section, your heart racing as you read them.

disneylover012: Oh my god. The Evil Queen is the best. She’s so savage!!

walkingonsunshine: Imagine getting paid to be mean to visitors. I LOVE HER

starwarsfan48: We need more of this. MORE

chipndale29: I’m gonna go to Disney tomorrow just to see her!!!!

sunnyreds: she and Gaston are actually kinda cute together… arguing like a married couple. They should totally date!! (4 replies)

potatocakes: imagine if they ACTUALLY WERE DATING IRL

luckycat7: THAT’S SOOOO CUTE OMG I TOTALLY SHIP THEM

chimchim013: why’s everyone saying they should date??? They’re probably just friends in real life…

nochu019: @chimchim013 lol don’t hate him just cuz u ain’t him… I ship them too

“Oh my God, they ship you and Gaston,” Joy is falling over herself with laughter, and you put aside the phone for a moment to help her get out of her costume, seeing the threat that she poses to anyone in her near vicinity.

“Who ships us?” Jeongguk arrives with his hair wet and shirt clinging to his body. He dumps his bag at the door and plops himself onto the couch.

You feel a little weird after reading that comment. Joy is safely out of her costume by now, and you hand her back the phone. “Nothing. Just some random people on Youtube.”

“They aren’t just some random people,” Joy admonishes. That’s the top liked comment, and that video has a million views now. And counting. _______, you’re famous!!!!!! The star of our little park!!!!!”

“Not forgetting who else starred in that video, are we,” Jeongguk raises an eyebrow, popping open the lid of a Pringles can. “I was, after all, your co-star.”

“Oh shut up, you were totally getting owned- hey wait. We didn’t even show you the video yet. Why do you seem like you already know which video that is?” You narrow your eyes in suspicion, turning to look at Jeongguk.

Jeongguk turns red immediately, stuffing his face with more of your chips. “Mmf- happened to see it…”

There’s a loud clank in the corner as Taehyung gives up on working out. He massages his biceps as he paces around the room, eyes bright with excitement. “This is huge. Bigger than we could have ever imagined!!!” He grabs you by the shoulders. “________, you might even win Employee of the Month if you keep this up! The crowd loves you!”

“Oh please,” you wave away their optimism with a hand. “It was only one video.”

“It’s not just one video,” Joy corrects you as she scrolls furiously on her phone. “This account also uploaded another one. This time it’s called…”

Joy gets cut off with a snort of laughter. “Oh my god, you bad bitch.”

The door opens, and Yoongi walks in, hair in a mess and eyes half-open. “Who’s a bad bitch?”

“_________!” Joy squeals. “You fucking called Ariel a fish.”

“No way,” Taehyung grabs the phone to see for himself.

EVIL QUEEN DISSES PRINCESS ARIEL, CALLS HER A FISH

“…Oh. It’s that fish girl.” You hear your voice blasted loudly, and then the rest of the video is drowned out by boisterous laughter, cheers and screaming.

It’s chaos. Taehyung is running around the room. Joy is jumping up and down, replaying the video over and over. Jeongguk is rolling with laughter on the couch and falls off, knocking his knee on the table. Yoongi, true to his quiet self, only smirks at you with a look that resembles admiration, a tall order for the man of few words.

“Not bad. Guess you are serious about getting your man.”

“Wh-what?” Oh my god, guys shut up for a fucking second,” you say to your friends, but they aren’t having it. They are completely beside themselves with mirth, and a part of you can’t help but smile either. The animosity between fur and face characters has been an ongoing war ever since you joined. A video like this going viral just feels like a score for you and zilch for them.

“I thought we’d lost you and Jeongguk over to the Dark Side when you got promoted to face characters,” Taehyung says, still half doubled over from the exertion, face red. “But now it’s totally us against them. You’re a double agent!”

“She’s a fucking champ is what she is,” Jeongguk says with a look of pride on his face. “Insulting them while keeping character. I don’t know how she does that.”

You don’t really have much to say as you watch your friends replay the video over and over, but there is a warmth in your chest as they celebrate and dance. A warmth that completely erases the feelings of insecurity still lingering after seeing how beautiful Dahyun was today. The validation from your friends is just what you needed to chase those doubts away, and you plop yourself down on the couch, snuggling closer to Jeongguk as you settle in to watch the rest of the videos uploaded by that account.

Yoongi only partially grumbles about all of you squeezing onto one couch, but even you can see the tiny, proud gummy smile on his face as he watches from his standing position behind you all.

There may be shitty moments in this job. But moments like this make it all worth it, and you tell yourself to hold on to it no matter what.

Jimin collapses into a chair in the dressing room. To be honest, he prefers the fur character’s dressing room to this one. Always cosy, with that soft couch perfect for taking a nap in between shifts. And the main plus point: the people. Ever since he got promoted to a face character he felt weird going back there, but it seems like you and Jeongguk still treat it as your dressing room. He hardly ever sees you in here, even when your shifts match.

A bigger dressing room also means more people, and more strangers. It’s noisy, impossible to relax for a moment in between shifts. So he pulls out his earphones and plugs it into his phone, opening Youtube and idly browsing his homefeed.

He comes across an interesting video that catches his eye immediately.

EVIL QUEEN PUTS GASTON IN HIS PLACE

That’s you in the thumbnail. He’d know your face anywhere. Jimin clicks on it, and the video begins to play. You and Gaston are bickering away, back and forth with an undeniable chemistry, and Jimin feels a lump growing in his throat.

It’s partially overshadowed by the pride when he notices that it’s gone viral, over two million views now, and he grins happily. Watches the way you throw yourself into your acting, how confident you look making up your lines impromptu.

His mistake is when he decided to scroll through the comments.

sunnyreds: she and Gaston are actually kinda cute together… arguing like a married couple. They should totally date!! (2 replies)

potatocakes: imagine if they ACTUALLY WERE DATING IRL

luckycat7: THAT’S SOOOO CUTE OMG I TOTALLY SHIP THEM

He frowns. You and Jeongguk? Hm. Not if he has anything to say about it.

He types furiously on his phone and presses submit before he has a chance to think twice about it. Satisfied with his reply, he continues watching to the end of the video, but not before another ping interrupts him.

It’s a notification that someone has replied to his comment. He opens it and scrunches his brow in disapproval.

sunnyreds: she and Gaston are actually kinda cute together… arguing like a married couple. They should totally date!! (4 replies)

potatocakes: imagine if they ACTUALLY WERE DATING IRL

luckycat7: THAT’S SOOOO CUTE OMG I TOTALLY SHIP THEM

chimchim013: why’s everyone saying they should date??? They’re probably just friends in real life…

nochu019: @chimchim013 lol don’t hate him just cuz u ain’t him… I ship them too

He starts typing furiously again but can’t come up with anything intelligent to say. Finally, he deletes everything and clicks on the offending user’s screenname to check out his channel.

It’s primarily focused on gaming and streaming, although their latest video does look like it was taken in Disneyland itself. Jimin sees a familiar silhouette in the corner of the video’s thumbnail and clicks on the video to get a better view, though the figure is never clearly outlined.

Frustrated he scrolls through the rest of the channel’s videos, but it’s all lame gaming streams.

It’s probably just a loser gaming nerd, Jimin tells himself as he returns to the viral video of the Evil Queen. Nothing to get worked up over.

He’s interrupted by the timer on his phone signalling his next shift, and he sighs, tossing it away and starting to get ready.

The view count only goes up and up. Throughout the weeks that follow, more of your fan accounts pop up, uploading numerous videos of you sparring with Gaston, entertaining the crowd solo, insulting and bickering with guests. The list goes on, and your fanbase grows bigger.

Now you have a sizeable crowd at the Wishing Well every time your shift comes on. It energizes you, gives you the motivation to act better, think of wittier lines. The recognition that you’re getting every day makes you shine even brighter, giving you the hope to aspire towards your eventual big-picture dream of Broadway.

“It’s totally possible,” Joy gushes as she takes off her makeup at the end of the day.

You’re sitting on the couch in the small living area, face already scrubbed clean of all your makeup. You tear into a face mask and carefully align it on your face. With the extra makeup that comes with playing a face character, you also run the risk of breaking out more, and blemishes are even harder to cover. So you put more effort into your skincare routine to make sure that your skin is as flawless as can be.

“With all this fame you have, you could totally have an edge at auditioning for Broadway,” Joy continues on.

“Maybe…” you say, closing your eyes and tipping your head back for a moment of relaxation. “No one knows it’s me playing the Evil Queen. They can’t find out my name, or Disney will fire me. You know the rules.”

“Yeah, you could send it in as a highlight reel or an audition tape,” Joy answers. “Those are kept private anyway, so the public won’t find out. Win-win.”

You roll over to face her. “You think that’ll work?”

Her response is interrupted by a polite knock at the door of the small dressing room. You both know that none of you ever knock before entering, so whoever is outside must be a visitor.

“I’ll get it,” you say, walking toward the door and opening it.

“Um, hi.” It’s Park Jimin again, hands awkwardly in his pockets and looking freshly showered in a black shirt and ripped jeans. His favourite combo. “I thought I might find you here.”

You hastily rip off your face mask, cheeks turning red at your disheveled appearance compare to his flawless one. “Hey! Um, yeah haha guess I’m pretty predictable!”

You almost cringe at your awkwardness. Jimin only smiles gently, eyes looking past you into the room.

“Are you busy?”

“Um… no! Not really. Just relaxing after my shift, Joy’s here too, you know her, right?”

Jimin acknowledges her with a nod. “Actually, I kind of ran into senior management just now, and they asked me if you were still in the park. I think they want to see you and it seemed kind of urgent, so I came over to see if you were here.”

A slight tinge of disappointment makes itself known in your chest. So Jimin didn’t come here to look for you, he only came because senior management asked him to.

“They- they want to see me? I didn’t get any email from them though…” you pull out your phone and check it, only to realise it’s out of battery. “Oh. No wonder. Um… sure. I’ll go see them right now. Thanks for letting me know.”

You start to slip past him, but he catches your arm halfway.

“I’ll walk with you, if you don’t mind,” he says with a shy little smile, flipping his hair off his forehead with one hand.

“You sure? I don’t want to hold you up… you must be tired.” Both of you start to stroll toward the head offices.

Jimin smiles companionably, taking a deep breath of the crisp, cold air. “I’m okay. Not that tired. It’s a really fun job, and seeing the crowd gives me energy. So I always end the day with more energy than I started it with.”

You can kind of relate to what he’s referring to, and for the first time you realise how important it is to receive so much love and attention from your audience. “Yeah, totally. It’s like a two-way dialogue. You give the audience your all, and they give it back to you tenfold.”

“Exactly!” He grins at you with a little skip in his step. “You’ve been killing it lately. I heard you’re going super viral on Youtube. The first video of you and Gaston has, what- five million views?”

“Oh, yeah… it’s crazy. I have no idea how that happened,” you blush a little under his intense gaze, focusing on the path in front of you instead.

“I know how it happened, your acting skills are amazing,” Jimin says with a shrug, saying it as if it’s obvious. “Watching you makes me feel like you were born to act. When you’re acting, you just steal the spotlight even if there isn’t a stage. I think you should give yourself more credit.”

He turns to you with a sweet smile, eyes warm. It almost makes you stumble over a non-existent rock.

“Thankfully neither you nor the crowd are mind readers, because I was doubting myself like crazy that day,” you attempt to laugh it off, but your confession only makes Jimin even more curious, his hand brushing against yours. You ignore the hitch in your voice. “It was more like tiny little questions. ‘Like is this okay? Am I doing a good job? Was that too mean? Do they hate me?’ ”

“Wow- that’s… I couldn’t tell at all,” Jimin admits. “From the outside you just looked like you were born to be there. You looked so confident and comfortable in your own skin, and… it was attractive.”

Your heart skips multiple beats as you shakily bring yourself to make eye contact with him. Jimin is still looking at you, and the words are left unsaid between the two of you, but his gaze makes it loud and clear.

I was attracted to you.

You’re saved from a response as you approach the head office. Thinking he’d probably do the normal thing and leave now, you turn to say goodbye to him, but Jimin follows you into the office.

“I can stay a little. Don’t have anything after this anyway,” he says with an easy smile, and part of you is glad, because you’re nervous at the thought of meeting with senior management.

Though you’ll have to go in alone, the thought of Jimin waiting outside for you makes you a little less anxious.

“Good evening, _________,” the head of Character Management, Kim Sejeong greets you.

It’s strange to be meeting with management so often, the last time being when you got promoted. But this time, the rest of the management is also in the room, sitting on either side of a long table, looking important and intimidating.

“Hi- Good evening, I believe you wanted to see me?” Your voice comes out small, and you hate it.

“Yes, we have some very great news for you,” Kim Sejeong smiles tightly as she ushers you to a seat at the end of the table. “I’ll let our director of HR deliver it himself.”

His nameplate reads Jung Hoseok. He clears his throat, adjusting his tie as he smiles at you. “Congratulations, ________. You’ve been made employee of the month.”

There’s a stunned silence for a moment as you digest the news. Finally, you bring yourself to utter a response. “Um… I… wow, this is amazing, I had no idea… Thank you so much, Mr Jung.”

Jung Hoseok laces his fingers together, smiling again as he looks at the other members of the senior management. “I think I speak for all of us when I say that we’ve definitely noticed how you are shining in your new assignment. We’ve taken note that you’ve gone viral, and we estimate that park visitation numbers have gone up by 5% ever since you were promoted. You’ve brought very good publicity for our park, and we think you deserve this title.”

“In fact, we decided to modify the title slightly, you’re now employee of the month for the next three months. Of course, we’ll be announcing your title in the official staff newsletter later this month, but we just thought you’d like to know in advance,” Sejeong interjects smoothly.

This has to be a dream. Some cruel nightmare where everything is ripped away from you at the very last second. There’s no way something this good can happen to you… is there?

“It’s not just a title,” Jung Hoseok corrects himself. “I’m not sure if you’re aware, but the Employee of the Month is also rewarded with a small voucher. But since this is Employee of the Month for the next three months, we thought the prize should be similarly inflated.”

You glance at Sejeong expectantly, not daring to get your hopes up. What could it be? Cash? A month off work? A bonus?

“Two pairs of VIP tickets to Disneyland, redeemable at any time with no expiry,” Jung Hoseok grins as if he thinks he’s awarding you the Nobel Peace Prize. “And, a free night’s stay at the Disneyland hotel, two rooms inclusive.”

You’ve never really been a fan of Disneyland and its hotels, but this is slightly ridiculous. The reward for doing well at work is… getting to spend more time at work? You supposed you can always sell the tickets or something… you just have to find a way to be discreet about it.

You realise that a longer than socially acceptable amount of time has passed in which you’ve just been staring at senior management, and you clear your throat, mentally slapping yourself out of your stupor.

“Thank you, Mr Jung. I truly… truly appreciate this, it’s such an honour,” you force the words out alone with a stiff smile on your face.

Jung Hoseok seems satisfied with your gratitude. “Thank you, Ms______. Please keep up the good work. Well, that’s all we have for you today, unless there’s anything on your side, Sejeong?”

“Nope, nothing from me,” Sejeong shakes her head. “You may go now.”

You thank them one more time before letting yourself out of the room, still trying to process everything. Jimin sees the slightly overwhelmed look on your face, and he immediately meets you at your side, arm around your shoulder to guide you to the door.

“You okay? It wasn’t bad news, right?” He asks, worried.

“No… no it wasn’t. Quite the opposite, actually,” you say still in a daze. “I was awarded Employee of the Month. For the next three months.”

“Oh my god. That’s amazing! You totally deserve it!” Jimin expresses his joy with his entire body, skipping ahead of you a few paces and even doing a spin, giggling in that cute way of his.

“It is,” you smile, genuinely happy now. “But get this, guess what was the reward.”

“A 13th month bonus?” Jimin guesses excitedly, his eyes bright.

“Two pairs of VIP tickets to Disneyland. And two hotel rooms, one night stay,” you say in a deadpan manner. “I know, right? How stingy. Employees already get a 20% discounted rate off everything, and yet…”

“You could always sell them. Or, I mean… take the chance to just be a normal person at Disney. I guess that’s easier said than done, with all the things that we’ve seen as cast members…” Jimin bites his lip in a way that highlights how plush they are.

“A normal person at Disney?” You’re intrigued by the idea as the two of you start to walk back towards the cast member’s dressing rooms. “I’ve never really thought of that before. I mean, this is our workplace, so I don’t think I could ever think of it as a place to have fun.”

“I could show you, i-if you wanted,” Jimin stumbles over his words, and you can see a slight blush on his cheeks as his smile rounds them out gently. “I think it’d be fun. To just forget what we’re really here for and enjoy the park as Walt Disney himself intended it.”

From anyone else, those words would have rubbed you the wrong way. But coming from Park Jimin, it’s genuine because you can tell he really believes that this park was meant to bring joy to people.

And after all, spending a day with Park Jimin in Disney doesn’t sound all that bad. Especially when you think of the hotel room waiting for you after.

“I think it’s a deal,” you grin at him, a fluttering in your stomach when you see his face light up.

“Oh my god. Please,” Jeongguk begs, practically on his knees in front of you. “I’d kill to stay in a Disney hotel just once. And besides, this would be great for my channel!”

“You have a channel?” You frown at him. This is news.

“I recently just started one! It’s mainly gaming for now, but I thought of branching out into vlogging too! And what better place to vlog than Disney itself?” Jeongguk grins and stretches his arms, spinning in the small dressing room and nearly knocking Yoongi off his feet.

The older man glares as he shields his Americano with his body. “Count me out. Spending more time in this place is the last thing I want.”

You sigh under your breath. “Me too, bud.”

“C’mon, you have three tickets! Just give one to me, and Tae and Joy can take the other two! It’s perfect!” Jeongguk folds his arms petulantly, as if he can’t believe you haven’t done the math. “We can do the ‘Eat Everything at Disney Challenge’ and then crash in the hotel room at night. It’ll be like old times again, just way fancier!”

“We can just sneak Yoongi hyung in for the ‘crash at hotel’ part,” Taehyung chimes in. “We’ll get snacks and alcohol and shit. It’ll be great!”

“Um… well, about that…” you shift your weight from foot to foot. “I… kind of only have two tickets left.”

“What? Where’d the last one go?” Jeongguk immediately questions this unexpected wrench in his well laid plans.

This catches Yoongi’s attention too, and he stops scrolling on his phone to fix his eyes on you. Eyebrow raised, as if he can tell what you’re going to say next.

“I don’t think you have any other friends than us,” Jeongguk is thinking hard, and you punch him in the shoulder just for that comment.

“It’s Park Jimin, that’s who,” Joy pipes up from the corner as she’s examining her skin for any breakouts.

Jeongguk frowns. “Wait. Prince Eric? He’s your friend? You guys are close?”

Yoongi snorts at that naïve response. “Dude, she has the biggest boner for him. Everyone in the crew knows that. Well, except for you and him, I guess.”

“Shut up, everyone does not know that!” You throw a cushion at Yoongi, but he raises an arm to deflect it, unbothered as always. “I’m gonna put salt in your Americano tomorrow.”

“Two slots and three people, that’s gonna be interesting,” Yoongi says, going back to his phone.

“Well, I volunteer Tae as tribute. He’s the only one whose shift doesn’t match ours for the next month,” Joy shoots you a quick glance as she says this, and you understand what she’s getting at immediately.

If it’s just you, Jimin and the two brats, you’ll be spending the whole day taking care of them like they’re your overgrown children. But with Joy along, hopefully she can distract Jeongguk long enough for you and Jimin to have some time together, and hopefully even hit the end goal of-

“Oh, right…” Taehyung says with slumped shoulders. “Who plans the shifts anyway? Why’d I have to be left out this time?”

Feeling a little guilty for all the unspoken planning going on between you and Joy, you ruffle Taehyung’s hair fondly. “Hey. You can still join us at night. We’ll just sneak you guys all in.”

You almost regret the words coming out of your mouth the moment you say it, because Joy shoots you an ‘are you sure about this’ look. You return her look with a shrug. As much as you want Jimin, it doesn’t feel right to exclude your friends like this, friends who have been like a family to you.

You’ll just have to find a way to get Jimin alone, because this is your best chance.

“Hey everyone! What’s up guys, today we’re doing a ‘Eat Everything at Disney Challenge’!! Woohoo!” Jeongguk’s boisterous voice attracts the attention of a few other people around him.

He holds out his vlogging camera further to capture the rest of the party. Joy is walking beside him, doing a great job of being the physical buffer between Jeongguk, you and Jimin. She waves half-heartedly, more concerned with shielding herself from the merciless sun with her sunhat and making sure Jeongguk doesn’t crash into anything while mindlessly vlogging.

You’re a few paces away with Jimin, matching your pace to his and already feeling the exhilaration of the day ahead. Even just walking beside him is enough to get your heart racing. Today he’s dressed up slightly more, in a white button-down shirt with cut-off khaki shorts that show off his muscled thighs. To complete the look, his black hair is parted in the middle, showing off his forehead, black sunglasses hung on the vee of his white button down shirt.

“Did I miss the memo or something?” Jimin turns to you with an amused smile on his lips. They look soft, pink and even a little glossy, as if he’d taken the time to apply some tinted lip balm. “Eat everything at Disney Challenge?”

“Don’t worry, I missed it too. If I’d known, I would have worn something a lot looser than this,” you gesture down at yourself. If only Jimin knew that you had spent hours agonizing over your outfit last night, panic calling Joy for help and realizing that you have absolutely zero date worthy clothes in your closet.

It figures because the last time you went out for something other than work and auditions and grocery shopping was never.

Finally, you’d settled on a yellow plaid dress with thin straps to fight off the summer heat, and sneakers to make walking a little easier.

“You look great though,” Jimin says boldly, biting his lower lip. “How about this: he’s here for the all you can eat challenge. We’re here on a date.”

The words make your stomach flutter dangerously, as if you’re on Space Mountain just before the big drop. There’s something slightly different about Jimin today, he’s a sassier, more flirty version of himself, and it only makes you wish you could have come alone with him even more.

No more shy smiles or cute grins today, Park Jimin is going all out in his flirting. He’s going to get the girl today, Jeon Jeongguk be damned.

The four of you stop at a churro stand, and Jeongguk announces to the camera that it’s the first stop of the day.

Jimin’s never been one for the sugary treat, but he spies an opportunity as Jeongguk begins to scarf down his churro on camera, getting sugar all over his shirt.

“Hi, can I have one pineapple churro please?” He asks before turning to you. “Share one with me?”

“Sure,” you shrug as Jeongguk approaches the two of you, his original flavour churro already gone.

“What’d you guys get?” Jeongguk squeezes himself in between you and Jimin. “Oh. Pineapple? I didn’t know they had that flavour.”

Jimin hands over some cash to the vendor and takes the still warm, yellow churro dusted in bright yellow sugar. “They have all different kinds of flavours, look.” He points to the menu board on top of the booth. “Hey, you know what’d be cool Jeongguk?”

“Hmm?” Jeongguk turns to him with a questioning look in his eyes.

“You should try all the different flavoured churros, it’d be a really cool addition to the vlog!”

Jeongguk lights up at the suggestion. “Why didn’t I think of that?” He turns to the vendor and points at the menu. “Can I have one in every flavour? Oh, and employee discount please.”

“Sure, but we’re fresh out of churros and it’ll take about fifteen minutes to make the next batch, would you be okay with waiting, sir?”

Jimin discreetly tugs at your hand and pulls you away with him while Jeongguk haggles with the vendor about the waiting time, too preoccupied to even notice the two of you.

A safe distance away, Jimin grins as he glances you up and down as if he suddenly realized something. “Here. Take this.”

He shoves the churro at you, and you take it from him, brows knitted in confusion.

“It matches your outfit, and you look really cute. I wanna take a picture of you,” Jimin explains with a giggle as he takes his phone out of his pocket, positioning you so that the Magic Castle is directly behind you. “One, two three…”

You make him laugh in his signature way, with his entire body, when you pretend to play the churro like a flute. He snaps a few more pictures with a satisfied smile on his face, and you drop the pose, walking over to him to check the picture and half hoping you don’t look horrible.

“So pretty, see,” Jimin shows you a candid of you laughing at him laughing, and you realise it’s the happiest you’ve seen yourself lately. His proximity as he shows you the other pictures makes your heart race, and you almost don’t want to move away.

To cover up your fluttering nerves, you take a bite of the churro, feeling the sugar melt on your tongue, and the tangy taste of pineapple spread across your tastebuds.

“Good?” Jimin asks, putting his phone away, casually letting his arm skim past your waist as he tucks it into his pocket. “Lemme try?”

Before you can offer your end of the churro to him, he closes one hand around your wrist and lifts the other end of the churro to his lips, taking a bite of it. The sugar dusts his plush lips, and he maintains direct eye contact with you as he chews, his smoldering eyes such a contrast with the cute bulge of his cheek full of churro.

The slight height difference means the churro is tilted in between the two of you, and your end of the churro remains slightly out of your reach. Feeling as if his eyes are daring you to, you lean forward slightly and take a bite from your side while he takes another bite from his end.

God damn if this isn’t the most romantic thing you’ve ever done. You’d thought these things only happen in movies. Feeling your cheeks heat up from his stare, you break away first and brush some sugar off your chin.

“It’s really good,” Jimin comments, licking his lips to get every bit of sugar. “Tastes just like the Dole Whip. Pineapple’s really good for you too.”

“It is?” You ask before you can fully comprehend what he’s said, mind already addled by his close proximity and how outrageously cheesy he’s being. You see a stray granule of sugar on his bottom lip, and without thinking, brush it away with your thumb.

Jimin pairs his answer with another bite of the pineapple churro, a slight smirk on his lips as he chews. “Yeah, it tastes good, and it makes you taste good too.”

You understand his double entendre immediately and wonder where the hell this side of Park Jimin was all along. A moment ago, everything was straight out of a rom-com movie, and a second later he’s looking at you like you’re the lead actors of Fifty Shades.

“Hey guys, I got it!” Jeongguk bounds over with his two fists full of churros, his camera balanced dangerously in the crook of his elbow. Joy trails behind with a slightly apologetic look on her face at not being able to successfully keep him busy. “Guys, can you film me? I’m gonna try to break the world record for eating churros the fastest.”

You oblige, stepping away from Jimin to rescue the camera from Jeongguk. “There’s such a record? What’s the time to beat?”

“Dunno,” Jeongguk shrugs, his eyes already focused on the multi-coloured churros in his hands. There’s pineapple, plum, green apple, strawberry and blue raspberry. “I’ll make one if there isn’t.”

“Don’t choke, Kook,” you caution him, taking out a bottle of water from your bag just in case, and position him in the camera frame. “Three… two… one… action!”

Jimin looks over your shoulder at the camera’s viewfinder as Jeongguk begins to scoff down the churros at record speed. In the blink of an eye, he’s already downed three, and he shoves the last two in his mouth at the same time, chewing furiously as if he’s eating two Pocky sticks at the same time.

“And… time!” You call out, figuring he can just add in the timer below later in post editing. You keep recording though, and hand him the bottle of water with your free hand.

Jeongguk looks satisfied with himself, though his eyes land on how close Jimin is standing behind you as he chugs the water. With a petulant pout, he lowers the bottle from his lips.

“Do I have sugar on my mouth?” He asks you, looking at your face rather than at the camera.

“Yes, yes you do,” you say with a laugh. “It’s all over your face and chin.”

“Wipe it for me?” Jeongguk asks with a shameless grin, glancing at the way Jimin’s expression tightens. “I can’t see where it is.”

There’s a brief pause as you hesitate, and then you pull a pack of tissues out of your pocket, tossing them at him. “Here. Use these.”

Jimin’s laughter sounds angelic to you, but it grates on Jeongguk’s ears.

“Hey, can you walk ahead of me?” Jeongguk turns to you with his camera still focused in front of him. “I wanna do a ‘follow me’ shot. And I need a model.”

“I’ll do it!” Joy chimes in enthusiastically, although you can obviously tell how forced it is judging from the smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. The heat is definitely taking a toll on her. You owe her a huge debt after this.

But Jeongguk frowns a little. “Hmmm, can ______ do it instead?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Joy crosses her arms defensively.

“Have you seen the way you walk?” Jeongguk rolls his eyes. “You’re like a drunk elephant.”

Joy’s eyes widen in outrage and you can tell this is about to turn into an argument between your two best friends. Before she can say anything, however, Jimin cuts in.

“I’ll do it,” he says, pushing back his black hair from his forehead.

Relieved, you chime in. “Y-yes! Jimin walks really well. You should see the way he walks down Main Street when he’s Prince Eric. He turns the whole place into his private runway!”

Jimin shoots you a fond little smile, glowing from your compliment and you feel Jeongguk’s eyes tracking this tiny moment between you.

“What do I have to do?” Jimin asks, already walking in front of Jeongguk.

“But… ‘follow me’ shots are usually done by a girl because they get more viewers,” Jeongguk protests weakly, especially when Jimin appears in the viewfinder of his camera. “And… and we have to hold hands.”

“You have no idea how handsome I am from the back,” Jimin smirks, running a hand through his hair again. “I’ll get you way more views than Joy and ______ ever could.”

“God damn. That confidence is so hot,” Joy whispers beside you, watching the two men squabble over having to hold hands, and then finally settle for no hand holding.

You don’t doubt he could get way more views than you or Joy, especially with the little smirk he shoots the camera over his shoulder as he starts to walk toward the Magic Castle. Jeongguk follows while filming, leaving the two of you behind for a moment.

“You know what’s hotter?” Your eyes don’t leave him for a second. “That ass.”

Joy giggles in tandem with you for a second before she stops with sudden realization. “Oh my god. I just realised something. I hope the walls between the hotel rooms are soundproof.”

“And… here’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen today…” Jeongguk suddenly turns the camera on you as you pick at your candy floss. “We’re waiting to go on the carousel!”

Suddenly camera shy, you hide behind the giant pink cloud. “What’s with you? Why are you complimenting me?”

“Because it’s true,” Jeongguk shrugs, one hand reaching out to move your cotton candy away from your face so that he can see you.

But his view is suddenly rudely interrupted by Jimin who sticks his face right in front of the camera. Jeongguk jumps back in slightly shock, a scowl etched across his features as Jimin blocks you entirely.

“How about me? Aren’t I the cutest guy you’ve ever seen?” Jimin checks himself out in the camera lens, and you have to stop yourself from agreeing. He fluffs up his silky black hair, taking the sunglasses that hang in the vee of his shirt and putting them on.

Jimin continues to check himself out in the camera’s viewfinder, and you laugh at him, watching him smooth his hair and lick his lips, and suddenly you find yourself envying the viewers of Jeongguk’s channel. That is, if Jeongguk decides to even let this make it into the vlog in the first place.

Jeongguk is making noises of disgust, trying to get Jimin out of frame, and the two of them are squabbling like little kids.

Jeongguk passes the camera to you. “Hey, film me.”

He grabs a piece of popcorn and tosses it into the air, trying to catch it with his mouth. Joy giggles when he fails, and Jimin snorts with laughter at his reattempts.

“C’mon, that’s easy,” Jimin says as he grabs popcorn from Jeongguk, and you turn to focus the camera on him instead. Jimin tosses it into the air and catches it easily, shooting the camera a little smirk.

“I’ll do it again,” Jimin says, grabbing another piece of popcorn and tossing it in the air. It lands in his mouth effortlessly, and the way he looks at you while chewing makes your mouth go dry.

“One more, and if I succeed…” his voice trails off so that you have to strain to hear him over all the background noise of the park. “You have to ride me tonight.”

Then he throws it into the air and catches it with his mouth, and your heart skips a beat when he catches your eye after.

“Um, what?? I’ll have to ride… what?” You feel like that piece of popcorn has gone down your throat instead, from the way you’re stuttering.

“You’ll have to ride with me,” Jimin says with a wink, nodding at the carousel. “What did you think I said?”

You’re saved from replying when the gates in front of you open, signalling the next batch of carousel riders.

Joy tugs you along, unaffected by what just went down whatsoever. Her only aim is to choose the prettiest unicorn so she can take millions of selfies, and you follow her, not realizing that Jeongguk isn’t behind you. By the time you do realise, you’re already standing beside a white pony with a pink mane and tail just behind Joy.

“You go ahead, I wanna film the carousel from here,” Jeongguk focuses on getting the perfect frame on his camera. Jimin glances over his shoulder and realizes that it’s focused on you, following you as you go from pony to pony, laughing and giggling with your cotton candy still in hand.

He narrows his eyes in suspicion. “Hey, I thought this was supposed to be a ‘Eat Everything at Disney Challenge’? Why are you filming ______ like, exclusively?”

“Because I wanna eat her, that’s why,” Jeongguk mumbles under his breath, and Jimin nearly explodes.

“What did you just say man?” He’s ready to grab Jeongguk by the collar for referring to you in such a crude manner.

“Calm down dude, it was just a joke,” Jeongguk’s eyes widen in fear. “I say stupid things sometimes without thinking! You know I’d never treat _____ like that. She’s like one of my best friends! I can’t help if I’m attracted to her like that!”

“Kook? What are you doing? Get over here!” You gesture at him and Jimin, who are still in the queue even though there are more than enough spaces on the carousel.

You notice the two of them having a seemingly intense conversation, at the end of which Jimin backs down and shoves his way through the gate, with a hard set to his jaw as he approaches the horse you’re about to ride. But by the time he’s on the carousel itself, the annoyance has vanished off his face.

“You should ride on this one instead,” Jimin gestures to a horse on the inside of the carousel. “Switch with me.”

You were just about to get on the horse, but at his insistence, switch to riding the one on the inside instead. Jimin stands just behind you, making sure you’re securely on the horse before he climbs up on the one next to you.

He glances at Jeongguk still in the queue trying to get a shot of you on the carousel, but he purposely angles his body so that he’s blocking you entirely. Especially when he sees your exposed thigh when your dress rides up from your position on the horse. Jimin doesn’t want anyone but him to be privy to this view, that’s for sure.

The ride slowly creaks to a start, and the whimsical music starts up. Now that the sun has gone down, the glow of the carousel lights casts a magical tinge over everything, and when Jimin looks over at you, he isn’t ready for the surge of butterflies.

The four of you make it to the hotel to check-in, half exhausted and just wanting to collapse onto cool sheets for a while before coming up with a plan to sneak in Yoongi and Tae, who insisted on bringing the snacks and alcohol so that they wouldn’t be left out.

“Here you go, two rooms, across the hallway from each other. 503 and 504,” the hotel clerk smiles at you, and you thank her, grabbing the keys and joining the other three in front of the elevators.

“Fifth floor,” you mumble to no one in particular as the four of you enter the lift. Joy reaches out to punch in the correct number, while Jimin boldly wraps an arm around your waist and you press your cheek into his chest.

“Why’s Kook sulking?” You refer to Jeongguk who’s been silent ever since you got off the carousel ride, looking through shots on his camera with a sullen look on his face.

“His blood sugar is low, he needs some snacks probably,” Joy says, stifling a yawn herself. “God, I can’t believe it’s only 9pm and we’re dying to go to bed. When did we become boring ass adults?”

“Ever since we got jobs and started paying bills,” your voice is muffled by Jimin’s shirt.

The elevator dings and you stumble out, navigating the lush hallways lined with red carpeting to find the correct unit number. You stop in front of 503 and tap the key card to the sensor, tossing the other one to Joy who opens the opposite room.

The sight of the neat, luxurious hotel rooms perks even Jeongguk up, as you dump your stuff and throw yourselves onto the soft beds.

“Oh god. Who was the one who suggested The Spinning Teacups? I hate you so much right now,” you mumble into a pillow, all your energy sapped up.

“Jeongguk did,” Jimin helpfully supplements your memory even as you feel the bed dip slightly beside you.

All of a sudden, you are painfully aware that the two of you are alone in the room together… the door is locked securely and there’s no one, not even Mr Walt Disney himself, who could interrupt your moment now. You turn to see Jimin flat on his back beside you, eyes closed and hair brushed away from his face. The outline of his sharp jawline leads you down to his Adam’s apple, then further down into the v of his shirt that exposes his chest…

He catches you looking with a playful smirk on his plush lips, turning onto his side so that he can regard you better.

“I waited all day for this…” Jimin whispers in a low sultry tone as his eyes undress you, and he sits up, running his fingers through his hair. “Remember what I said about riding me?”

You can only gape at him for a moment, before you reach out to smack his chest. “Oh my god, I knew I heard that! You made me feel like such a pervert!”

Jimin laughs, reaching across the bed to pull you into his lap so that you are indeed straddling him. “You’re cute when you’re flustered.”

You forget about how sweaty you feel when Jimin pulls you down for a kiss, and you finally taste those plush lips of his that you’d been dreaming of forever. You feel as if all of this is a dream, only it can’t be because the sensation of his warm body beneath yours is all too real, his tongue begging for entrance is making all of your fantasies come true and-

Ding dong ding dong ding dong ding dong!!!

The doorbell rings persistently and doesn’t stop. Such an obnoxious act can only be the work of one person. Sighing, you extricate yourself from Jimin’s grasp with one last kiss to his bottom lip and go to check who’s outside in the doorhole.

But all you see is darkness.

“What are you guys doing in there! Come out! Yoongi and Tae are here!” Jeongguk’s voice sounds from outside, and you can only surmise that he’s covered the door hole with his hand. Real mature.

Sighing, you turn back to Jimin still on the bed. Inside here is Jimin with his cute smile and sinful promises of the night to come, and out there is… Jeon Jeongguk with a penchant of cock blocking you at every turn he gets.

“We should join them for a bit. Then sneak away if we can.” Jimin sighs when the doorbell continues ringing, twitching an eyebrow in annoyance. “Or else he’ll never leave us alone. We need a game plan.”

Jimin turns to rummage through his bag for some comfy clothes to change into, and you do the same, only retreating into the bathroom to try and freshen up a little first. Five minutes later you emerge, dressed in comfy sweats as you open the door, only to stop the incessant ringing of the doorbell.

“Kook, you’re disturbing the neighbours,” you chide him gently, pushing him towards the other hotel room as Jimin emerges behind you in an oversized black hoodie and shorts.

It seems like the party already started without you, chip bags open and strewn everywhere, beer cans crushed and strewn around. You plop yourself down on a pillow and reach for some Doritos, moaning as the salty, cheesy goodness hits your tongue and you feel renergised.

Yoongi comes in bearing pizza, and for a moment no one speaks as you all hungrily devour the food.

“So Kook, did you manage to finish your ‘Eat Everything at Disney Challenge’?” Taehyung asks with a hopeful grin, for he’d contributed to the idea himself.

“Obviously not, or else he wouldn’t be stuffing himself right now,” Joy says through a mouthful of pizza, chasing it down with a gulp of soda. “He started off strong with the churros, but I think he kinda got sidetracked along the way…”

“Oh,” Taehyung says, not really looking all that disappointed. “Bro, there’s always next time! I told you, you need me!”

Yoongi settles back with a can of beer, looking as though the day has thoroughly worn him out. “So, how’d you losers like Disney? As visitors, not as cast members.”

“Eh, was okay I guess,” Jeongguk picks at a piece of pineapple on his slice. “Vlog turned out slightly different than I wanted it to.”

“Too hot,” Joy complains, before realizing her mistake. Her eyes widen as Taehyung tosses an empty crushed beer can at her.

“Try an entire afternoon in costume!” Taehyung says indignantly, before bursting into laughter.

While they bicker back and forth, Jimin nudges your knee with his, and mouths the words ‘game plan’. Your eyes dart around the mess in front of you, then at each of your friends.

Jeongguk is stuffing himself with the rest of the pizza, and if you know anything about him is that he goes out like a light after meals. Yoongi is already more than half asleep, Tae and Joy are distracting each other. Now’s the perfect time.

You start to stand up slowly, making your way to the door to let yourself out quietly. You don’t dare to turn and see if Jimin is following behind you, all you can do is keep going straight without making any more noise…

“_______? Where are you going?”

Shit.

Jeongguk’s sleepy voice interrupts you, and you turn around, a hesitant smile on your face. You see that Jimin is still seated in the circle, and you root around in your head for an excuse.

“Just- just gonna get more beer, we’re already out!” You say, and Jeongguk seems to accept this as he shifts his position to lie his head on Jimin’s lap instead. “Hyung- can I call you that? Hyung, lend me your lap for a while. You’re comfy.”

Ignoring Jimin’s silent protests for help, you let yourself out of the room, breathing a sigh of relief once the door closes behind you. You let yourself into the other room with the spare keycard in your pocket, thanking the heavens that you decided to ask for an extra card at reception just now. The original one is with Jimin, if and when he manages to extricate himself from Jeongguk’s grasp…

You sigh and slide under the soft, warm sheets, deciding that you might as well take a nap while waiting for Jimin.

Beep-beep….

The sound of a key-card being scanned stirs you from sleep, and you crack open an eye, but all you’re met with is the darkness of your hotel room. Then there’s a weight on the bed beside you, and Jimin’s soft voice.

“Did you fall asleep?”

“No, no I-“ the sleep in your voice betrays you, though, and you sit up hastily, taking in Jimin’s ruffled appearance; hair messy and cheeks slightly red. “What time is it?”

“Just past 2am,” Jimin rubs a hand down his face, reaching for a bottle of water on the bedside. “We were deep into some drinking game before I managed to escape. They’re all passed out in the other room.”

Jimin tilts the bottle and drinks deeply as if to chase away the sleepiness. He replaces the bottle on the bedside and moves to take off his hoodie, revealing the thin black shirt underneath. Unable to stop yourself, you push yourself into a sitting position, grabbing his shirt and pulling him in for a kiss, continuing from where you left off earlier.

You can taste the remnants of beer on his tongue, his hands slide around your waist to feel your soft curves, pull you closer to him so that you feel the hardness of his abs and the heat of his body.

“Finally,” he groans, trailing his kisses down your neck. “Fucking finally. This was all I could think about when we were playing 7 Up.”

His hands slide down to lift your shirt over your head, his lips marking the top of one breast as he works at the clasp of your bra. Jimin’s roughness is welcome as he sucks purple and blue into your skin, tossing away your bra like it’s nothing.

“You had the nerve to fall asleep while I was stuck entertaining your friends?” Jimin emphasizes this with a particularly harsh suck on your nipple, his fingers twisting the other one and your thighs clench together, trying to seek some sort of friction. His palm gropes your breasts, squeezing it roughly as he marks the other with his teeth and tongue.

“Shi-t I’m sorry!” You squeak out, but this side of Jimin you’ve never seen before is so fucking hot, and you can feel yourself already craving his touch on your body, inside you, and just everywhere.

His anger translates itself into his actions as he pulls down your sweatpants with a yank, but his fingers are always gentle on your skin as he travels up your inner thighs, traces across your sensitive lower lips. He witnesses how soaked your underwear is, pulling it away from you as he settles himself in between your thighs.

One flick of his tongue sends your thighs trembling, and he concentrates all his efforts on your clit, his fingers digging into your soft flesh in an attempt to keep your legs spread for him. Two fingers spread you for his viewing pleasure, he eats you like a man starved, not caring if your juice smear on his chin or cheeks.

When his fingers start to tease at your entrance, you buck your hips in a silent plea for more, and Jimin obliges you by sliding in one finger. Even though you’ve pleasured yourself in the past, it doesn’t compare to the feeling of him filling you up with his fingers, stretching you out and watching how well you take him.

One thumb is still rubbing circles around your clit, fingers stroking that special spot inside you as he coaxes you to cum all over him. Finally, Jimin goes in for the kill, replacing his thumb with his lips wrapped around your clit, and sucking until you see stars and your thighs are wrapped tight around his head.

You are panting and out of breath when your muscles loosen up, and Jimin is licking his lips, staring at your cunt. Without giving yourself time to get shy, you move to straddle him, ripping his shirt off in a hunger to feel his chest and abs, grinding against him.

“Fuck, are you really going to ride me like this?” Jimin has his hands around your waist as your tongue swirls in the shell of his ear, feeling your wet cunt grind against his abs. He lets you get a fill of his rock hard muscles for a few more seconds before aligning you where he really wants it, just over the bulge in his sweatpants.

“A bet’s a bet, right?” You reach down to pull the waistband of his sweatpants lower, bringing his underwear with it. You can already see the red tip of his cock, hard and angry and weeping with precum.

You grasp him with your mouth watering at the thought of swallowing his thick cock down your throat, but that will have to wait because you think you might die if you don’t feel him inside you this very instant.

“You know, I always look at your ass in your Prince Eric costume when you walk past the Wishing Well,” you admit to him, stroking his cock a few times and relishing the deep groans from Jimin.

“Sounds like you have a kink for Princes. Maybe I should fuck you while wearing my Prince outfit?”

“Bonus points if we can roleplay. You can save me from this big, towering castle, and when you climb all the way up I’ll thank you by sucking your huge-“ You’re unable to finish the sentence, bursting out into giggles only to be met with a puzzled look from Jimin.

“Wait, you weren’t being serious? I was getting into that!”

“Only if you call me Queen. And I get to call you a peasant.”

Jimin mock pouts, but then when his cock brushes against your clit, he suddenly remembers that he’s supposed to be punishing you for falling asleep while waiting for him.

He delivers one spank to your ass, causing you to moan as he reaches for the condoms thoughtfully provided by the hotel.

“Ugh, they’re Disney themed,” Jimin groans in distaste as he tosses aside the Mickey Mouse wrapper, unrolling the red and white polka dot condom over himself and swearing even more. “Who the hell would be turned on by this!”

You giggle at his obvious distress over how the condom makes his cock look.

“You’re laughing?” Jimin frowns in disapproval. “I’m here in danger of going soft before I can even fuck you and you’re-“

“Then I’d better help out,” you stifle your laughter as you grip him by the base and sink down onto him, and immediately all thoughts of Mickey Mouse, Disneyland and his cock going soft flee from Jimin’s mind.

All he can think of is the feeling of your warm cunt surrounding him, how tight you are as you take him all the way. You alternate between bouncing on top of him and grinding your hips in circles when you want more depth. Your thighs are burning, but you promised you’d ride Jimin till he cums.

When your pace slows down just a smidge, Jimin bends his thighs under you and meets you halfway for a while, before finally wrapping his arms around your waist so that your upper body is pressed tightly to his. Then you feel him pound into you, using his lower body strength to keep up the pace.

Although you’re on top, he seems to be doing most of the work, and the most you can do is to tighten around him. You can feel his grasp tight around your waist as his breaths quicken against your skin.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum,” Jimin is clearly trying to hold himself back, but you gather the last of your strength and start bouncing on him, trying to push him over the edge. A few more squeezes of your core around him and Jimin is groaning, gripping your waist as he thrusts up into you and spills into the condom.

A few brushes of his thumb around your clit is all it takes for you to follow him over the edge, collapsing against his chest in exhaustion as you both come down from your high.

Jimin goes soft and slips out of you, and he rolls you to the side so that he can take off the used condom. He grimaces as he ties the end and tosses it into the trash. “Never a-fucking-gain.”

“Does that mean we aren’t having round two here?” You tease him as he comes back to bed, snuggling deep into the covers with his cold feet pressed against your thigh.

“I think I could maybe deal with that… are there any Donald Duck ones?”

“My queen! I brought you a new servant!” A teenage girl excitedly drags her friends towards you, holding a camera up to film your reaction.

More and more of your visitors have been filming you, but you take it all in stride rather than feel pressurized by the thought that this will end up on Youtube. You pretend to check yourself out in the camera’s front view for a moment before noticing her and her friends.

“My new servant? Well everyone’s a servant, what are you talking about?” You glance dismissively at the crowd around you, holding up your mirror to catch the sun’s rays. “Well, if you’re my servant, you may bow.”

The girls giggle as they attempt to curtsy.

“That was terrible,” you swirl your cape in response. “It needs work. Now off with you!”

You turn and begin to stroll in the direction of the Magic Castle, aware that your little entourage is following you. Children are running after you and a few of them ask to hold your hand, which you allow graciously.

“Come, come, walk with me. The Wishing Well is filthy, Snow White hasn’t been doing her job lately. Out of my way! Out of our way, peasants!” You proclaim loudly, making everyone aware that you’re currently conducting your own parade.

Your shift is due to end soon, but you can’t resist passing by the Magic Castle just once. If you get the timing right, Jimin should be doing his rounds there while Ariel is stuck inside at in a photo session…

From far away you spot the bright blue jacket of his blazer, his dark black hair glowing in the sun and his pretty smiles as he twirls a child around in his arms. The sight of Park Jimin as Prince Eric nearly makes you want to smile, and you barely manage to keep your smirk of disdain on.

“My Queen, what do you think of Prince Eric? Isn’t he just the dreamiest?” One of your followers sighs from behind you as they catch a glimpse of the Prince. “He would make a great servant!”

“That’s precisely the reason why I came here, to recruit a new servant,” you concede, waving your mirror in the air as you approach Jimin. “I think a poison apple or two should be enough to take care of Princess Ariel, and then he’ll be all mine!”

Your laughter makes Jimin glance up at your approaching entourage, and well-mannered as his character is, he gives you a slight bow.

“Well, to what pleasure do we owe your presence to? Not here to give out any poisoned apples, are we?” Jimin holds a child’s hand as they attempt to hide behind him.

“Not at all… not yet at least,” you smile deviously, gesturing to all the people following you. “Someone here suggested you’d make a good servant… and I came here to see for myself.”

“Ah, I’m afraid I have to politely decline,” Jimin says with a small bow, but you can see the slight smile on his face. “As much as it would be an honour to serve you, my Queen, I’m afraid my allegiance lies elsewhere.”

“Hmmm,” you consider his rejection with a finger on your chin, checking your reflection in your mirror before you answer. “Well, at least he has manners. Which is more than I can say for his other half, that fish girl. I guess he needs to make up for the both of them.”

You can see it takes everything Jimin has not to giggle with his entire body like he usually does. Swirling your cape, you turn around and stride to the nearest exit, waving goodbye to your followers.

A few minutes later, Jimin follows you into one of the dressing rooms already laughing.

“You did it on purpose! I nearly broke character because of you,” Jimin points an accusing finger at you, but his giggles take all the sting out of it. He takes your hand and the two of you start to walk back to your fur character’s dressing room, taking the shortcut through the tunnels so that god forbid, no one in the park sees Prince Eric and The Evil Queen holding hands and giggling together.

In all the fairytales you read as a child, it’s always the Princess who gets her Prince and her happy ending. Never in your wildest dreams would you imagine that something like this would be possible, and yet here you are, walking hand in hand with the Prince of your dreams.

Maybe you don’t have to be a princess to get a happy ending after all.

“I should come by more often, you’re cute when flustered,” you tease him as he opens the door to the dressing room, and you’re thankful that no one can see the silly smile on your face that definitely doesn’t fit the Evil Queen.

“Ugh, get a room,” Yoongi peeks an eye open and closes it immediately at the sight of the two of you.

“This is a room,” you say, and Jimin only reluctantly lets go of your hand to let you take off your makeup.

Yoongi only grumbles and goes back to napping, and the two of you quieten down in the unspoken agreement that a sleepy Yoongi is like a bear that should best be left in hibernation.

You retrieve your phone to check your messages that you missed while being away for the past few hours, only to see that you have five missed calls and three messages all from the same number.

Opening the latest message, your heart skips a few excited beats.

Dear ______,

This is Mr Kim, Casting Manager for Broadway’s Maleficient. I refer to your audition tape sent in a few weeks back, apologies for the delay in getting back to you. I’d like to formally invite you down for an audition at your earliest possible convenience. The directors are all very excited to meet you, especially after watching your audition tape of your current role as The Evil Queen at Disneyland. You’ve become somewhat of an internet sensation, and we would love to have a chance to meet you in person. Please let me know what date works for you, or give me a call any time.

Your hands are shaking. It feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room.

“What? What is it?” Jimin asks in concern, peeking over your shoulder to read the text.

Then he lets out a loud whoop that makes Yoongi grunt in annoyance.

“You better not be giving him blowjob right in front of my salad or I’m kicking the two of you out on your naked asses…”

“______ got a fucking Broadway audition! She’s going to BROADWAY!!!!”

Jimin is beside himself with excitement, and you turn to kiss him, not because you want to shut him up (though it does accomplish that too).

You kiss him because you feel like every happy ending deserves to end with a kiss like this, only then does it count as a happily ever after.

#bts #bts smut #btssmutclub #bts jimin #bts park jimin #ksmutclub #bts jimin smut #happy birthday jimin #jimin's bday fic is here!!!!!!!#a whole day early for all you PST folks #ps excuse the low quality header #it was the only thing keeping me going throughout this monster length of a fic

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bokugaos · 4 years

Text

Territory

＞﹏＜ koutarou-nii just has to be the first here!! @aoyukai @kiyokens @shoyokuns for this nd helping nd encouraging me yesterday ILY’ALL MWAH

length: ~2k

warnings — yandere!bokuto, pseudo-incest, virgin reader

Bokuto can’t get enough of his pure and perfect little sister. So sweet, so soft, and untouched. Like an angel.

He knows about the things you talk about with his two older sisters. He tunes in to your conversations a lot; to keep tabs on you, he insists! As a responsible older brother, he has to know everything about you.

He’s seen the way other men look at you—his old high school classmates and teammates, strangers on the street, hell, even his current teammates. Everyone knows you’re off limits, he always makes sure of it. Nobody has the right to take you away from him, to be the reason that you’re going to cater to someone else’s attention but his.

You belong to him and only him.

But you’re simply too stubborn for your own good. You just have to go out and make your own friends, and now you have some suitors that he’s concerned about. You’ve dated some of them and of course Bokuto is spending more than half his time worrying about you and the things you do with them.

The thought of one of them, thinking they have the right to take away your virgin flower. He’s not even entitled to have you, let alone all those scumbags. He can’t bear the thought of someone snatching your innocence away—you’re so precious to him that he doesn’t even allow himself to have it. He would never ever let anyone else take it, not under his watch.

He is more than delighted when you announce to him that you’re going to stop meeting and dating people. You’re now finally seeing eye to eye with him! You haven’t been hanging out with other people, spending most of your time with him, as if living together is not enough for you.

You’ve voiced your complaints before, how you’re getting weird comments from your friends. They told you that it’s not normal for siblings to be that close. But he understands; they hate that you’re no longer so attached to them since you go out to see them less and less. He tries to explain to you that they are simply jealous.

You don’t need anyone else after all; he’s the only one you need, and he’s the best man you can ever find in this world.

But he’d be lying if he says he’s never had a lapse of judgment. You’re not making it any easier for him either, even though you don’t know just how weak he is for you. He’d catch you with your eyes closed, so relaxed and unguarded… what are you thinking? Do you lose your imagination, like he often does?

Are you fantasizing about him caressing you as he’s lowering you to the bed? Because he’s done it a few times you know, putting you to sleep like that. He has just never made any moves beyond. Maybe you unconsciously wish for him to all the same and that’s what you’re thinking about

Do you want him to pull the underwear down your thighs, slowly rub his fingers over your sex, smear your love juice to make sure you’re at least a little prepared for him, before he presses the head of his cock to your entrance? Do you want to feel him, inch by inch, as he sheathes himself deep into your tight, hot, virgin space? Because he would love nothing more than to listen to your moans, all your cute squirms underneath him and your delicious whimpers.

When you call out, “Kou-nii”, his heart jumps—he knows you’re definitely not thinking of anyone else. This is the only time he’s giving into a moment of weakness. He’s got you pressed up on the wall, your clothes hiked up just enough for him to have more of your thigh to grind against. You’re asking him—practically begging him to sink himself into you. “Am I not worthy?” You are, and your mewls, his sister gift wrapping it for him in the prettiest show of doubt and hesitation, can break his fixation.

Bokuto glides his hot, needy cock against your skin. His wet, leaking tip is leaving glistening trails, beautifying you even more. You keep your hands to yourself, both pressed on the surface of the wall. Your eyes are starting to close with each rock of your body, while musical little hums resonate behind closed lips.

He growls, having worked himself into a heated madness. He spins you around, and you instinctively close your legs tightly together for him. With slight difficulty, he wedges himself between the pillowy parts of your thighs, the softest portions, just underneath your crotch. He ruts in between them, with fervent quick snaps.

His hands plant onto the wall on either side of you. His cock briefly grazes the cloth of your underwear, feeling the moist there. He can’t tell if he’s simply leaking that much, or if you’re truly that wet for him. He pulls back to peel your underwear down in a flash and the next thing you know, its head is rubbing against you, earning him a soft moan bellowing against his ear.

The bedroom is a tad too far, but he won’t let himself be the reason his whole fantasy, the one he’s been dreaming around his fist about, to be ruined. He ups and carries you to the room, restraining himself from throwing you against the mattress and start fucking you senseless.

He crawls on the bed and hovers above you with heavy breaths, unable to calm himself down no matter how hard he tries. You’re so beautiful for him, laying on the stark white sheets as pure as you. He opens up your legs, marveling at how you look like a goddess in his bed. You’re so, very perfect. How is he so lucky to be the one who sees you like this?

Thankful that you’ve waited this whole time,—for him!—and let him take you. He gives you a kiss on the forehead and slowly pulls his hips back, cock leaving a wet trail from navel to mound. He angles his hips so that his bulky head lines up perfectly with your hungry cunt. Your inner, velvety walls hug him, just the tip this time, like a vice grip.

The last bits of his moral center shut down.

All Bokuto wants now is to fuck and fuck fast. To bury himself to the hilt, over and over. However, he’ll need to ease you up even more, as he’s barely even a quarter in but you’re already milking him so tightly that his eyes might actually roll back in pleasure. With an adorable cry—he’s unsure if it’s a surprised one or a pained one—your slack hands move his forearm to his biceps, clinging tighter and tighter the rougher he is. He loves that. It feels as if you're returning some of the passion, so he gives it even more effort.

He mercilessly plunges inside with a few rude thrusts of his pelvis. You wail at the sudden stretch, the burn that careens through your silky, slick walls. Flowering up into your chest, taking the breath from your lungs.

Though his hands are caressing you all over, it seems as if he is not paying any mind to any of your other reactions. Your wails, or the heavy flow of tears that roll down your temples. The whimpering or the continued pleading.

“Hey, pretty girl, don’t cry, huh?” one of his trembling hands smooths over your cheek, trying his best to comfort you despite the raging need in him to thrust faster, harder. “I-it hurts! and they… they said this is-”

“Just ignore them.”

A thumb hooks around your chin gently but insistently, leaving no room for argument, and you look up to meet his gaze. Bokuto only realizes he’d been slowing down, staring deeply into your eyes when a sob bubbles out of your mouth. Your eyes are half-lidded as he grazes his nose against yours. Kitty kisses, he always calls them. This seems to soothe you the smallest bit. His consciousness is blurring like watercolor now. He has to focus on the more important part of this, he realizes. And it’s you. “How bad does it hurt?”

You shake your head and squeeze your eyes shut.

“I know, baby, I know…it hurts the first time, remember? But d-don’t be scared, I-ah, fuck! It’s nii-chan,” Bokuto’s hips buck faster and harder, “Nii-chan’s got you.”

Closing your eyes you take a deep breath in through your nose. One of his hands is roaming your body, trying to distract you. The very tips of his fingers, gliding over the slopes of your breasts, teasing your nipples. Sending sharp shivers through your stomach into your pussy. Accumulating a new bout of slick, your cunt feeling hot and needy, you clench around him.

Your fingers come together in a fist over your head. All you can focus on is how deep his cock is hitting you, how filled up you are. The unbelievable heat, how your pussy continues to salivate all over his cock. Slick seeping in between your cheeks. Thighs shaking, as your velvet walls clamp down on his length. “Ah!– Nii-chan! Fu-fuck… oh– oh my god…” Your whole body quakes with your intense orgasm.

You throw your hands back over your head and arch your back. Your breath is fevered, chest rapidly rising and falling. Shaky meek whines that accompany every exhale. But that’s now, because your body is begging for it, pleading to get filled and creamed.

Bokuto continues to piston into you long after you're done coming. He fucks you until you’re a sweaty, grimy, whimpering mess. All muscle strength lost to it, becoming a rag-doll being puppeted by his big, unrelenting figure.

A deep-seated growl in his chest, not yet, he thinks, maybe you need some more practice before you can take him all the way inside. He’s too inside himself to recognize the wail you give, hunching over and burying his face in your neck, tasting sweat and fear and wholly unable to stop himself at all. He grunts like an animal, punctuated by loud, slick smacking sounds, overwhelmed with the pleasure of your burning hot, resisting walls clutching at him like a fist.

You turn him on so much. The tight constriction of your heavenly, virgin cunt. The heavy, moist breath on his neck. Nothing else matters, nothing except catching his end. Filling you up and making you his.

Your nails dig into his biceps and he comes. “Oh! Shit– It’s am– amazing.” His cock, aching and twitching inside of you. He’s coming hard, thick and heavy. Seated all the way inside, spurting deep within you, causing your belly to feel flooded. Marking his territory, you’re his.

He slowly pulls out of you, his cum spilling out of your cute, used up hole. “How’s it feel, angel?”

“ ‘s so good...” You weakly roll your head, face digging into the sheets. You have no strength to lift up your head, but you hope he’ll see your dazed smile.

He chuckles, “Silly baby, of course it does.”

You try to turn over, but he won’t allow it. “No, no. Don’t move. I’ll get you cleaned up!” He comes back with a warm washcloth. He gently cleans off the sweat from your forehead, wipes up stickiness from between your legs. Then he lets you move just he hugs you close to his chest, as he lays down with you in his arms.

Bokuto nuzzles his nose along your cheekbone, humming in approval. He is massaging circles, nibbling on your earlobe. You let your eyes fall shut again, trying to concentrate.

His body is so big, his musk so familiar and homely. You sigh as you finally start to relax, “...Kou-nii is the best.”

He is, and in fact, the only one you need.

#bokuto koutarou #bokuto smut #bokuto x reader smut #bokuto x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #.bokuto!#koutarou nii ♡#.fics!

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athina-blaine · 3 years

Text

MoMM Chapter 4 - The Storm, Part 1 (Preview #1)

(Note: this is not the finalized draft; anything featured is subject to edits or deletion!)

Chapter 3: The Empty Corridors

“To be honest, I’m not entirely sure I deserve that. Your friendship. After everything I’ve done since…”

“Of course you do. Listen to yourself; it’s not like you wanted to frighten me.” An inch of space sat between their hands. “Is this …? Um. Is this okay …?”

The winds continued to howl, and Martin's hand lay limp on the bed sheets. His face grew hot, and he started pulling back. Stupid idea. But then Jon slid his hand closer until their fingers brushed. Emboldened, Martin wrapped his hand around Jon's, his burn scar grazing the soft skin of Martin's palm.

He squeezed gently.

“No one deserves to be lonely, Jon.”

Jon had no response, staring out to the storm that continued knocking on their windows. He stared, and he let Martin hold his hand.

Chapter 4 - The Storm, Part 1

Martin was an optimist. He had to be. Anything else would have been utterly unbearable.

That being said, he was… relatively confident things would get better. Jon had confided in him the terrible secret of Magnus Manor and the truth of this hellish storm. The Lonely. And understanding a problem meant you were one step closer to solving it, right? It meant one step closer to getting out of the cursed estate you’d found yourself trapped in.

Most importantly, though, the two of them were talking again. Above all else, that gave him hope.

Jon was waiting for him in the foyer the next morning. His nose was buried in a book, but when Martin approached, he looked up, and Martin liked to think he looked pleased.

“Good morning,” Martin said, hoping he didn’t sound too flustered.

“You as well. Would ... would you be amenable to sharing some morning tea? If ... if you're still offering ...”

“Y-yes, of course.” So yesterday hadn’t been a fluke; Jon wasn’t going to leave him alone again. “That sounds great. Um. English Breakfast, then?”

Jon smiled, nodded, and fetched them both a pot and one cup apiece. The porcelain warmed Martin’s aching fingers, a refreshing respite from the chill that crept so subtly through the halls.

They drank, and they talked about very little. Martin’s tongue burned with questions (–what’s it like living with these entities? How do they manifest? Will we get out of here soon?–), but he restrained himself; the age lining Jon’s face had soothed as he sipped his tea, and when he asked Martin how he’d slept, there was a shy twist to his mouth.

Right now, Martin wanted to enjoy himself. Enjoy Jon and a warm cup of morning tea. There would be plenty of time to agonise later.

In the meantime, he��d just need to keep busy. Now was as good a time as any to give cleaning the manor another chance. Masochistic, maybe. Impossible, certainly. But at least this time he didn’t have to worry about being reprimanded. Probably.

One of the many study rooms that littered the estate would be a good place to start. Small as it was, its sooty fireplace and dusty couch was enough of a time sink for his purposes.

He was in the middle of battling a particularly stubborn stain when the door opened and Jon peered inside. Despite everything, Martin couldn’t help his trill of anxiety, made all the worse when Jon kissed his teeth.

“Must I iterate that it’s not necessary for you to – ”

“I want to.” It was still such a shock to just see Jon, to have them talking, that the words came out in a breathless, jumbled mess. “I promise. I-I like cleaning, honest. It keeps my mind off … you know, things.”

Jon paused mid-stride. For a moment, Martin thought he was going to be chased off anyway, and then he’d have to actually beg to clean, because the thought of spending another minute with nothing to do but contemplate their situation–

“I–” Sighing, Jon brought a hand to the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Yes, fine, if you insist. So long as you understand that it is absolutely not an expectation of you.”

Martin’s shoulders sagged with relief. Another hurdle crossed.

He’d just convinced himself to relax and finally let his mind wander, soothed by the familiar, tediousness of cleaning a fireplace, when Jon unclasped his cloak, lying it over the sofa.

“What are you doing?”

“Assisting you, obviously. Having you clean it in my stead when I’m the one responsible for it falling into disrepair doesn’t bear thinking about.”

Doesn’t bear thinking about. What didn’t bear thinking about was a man of Jon’s stature doing menial work like this in the first place. But Martin was hardly about to refuse his help … or his company, so freely given. “Um. Thank you. You don’t have to be so hard on yourself, though. There’s literally no way you could have kept this place clean all by yourself.”

“I appreciate the reassurance, but the point is moot.”

Well, if Jon wanted to roll up his sleeves and work at a grimy fireplace, Martin wasn’t about to stop him. When Jon literally rolled up his sleeves, he bit back a smile. The skin of his forearms was paler than that of his hands and face, smooth and free of blemishes. When was the last time he’d enjoyed a bit of sunshine without his shirt buttoned up to the chin?

Not that Martin had any business considering a thing like that in the first place. God, his face was burning again.

“I hate cleaning,” Jon murmured as he dunked the spare cloth in the water bucket. “Nothing ever stays clean.”

“Yeah. Gotta do it, though. Oh, you should keep your elbow up. You won’t tire out your arm as quickly.”

“Oh. Yes, I see.” Jon sighed. “Perhaps the fault lies with me. I’ve never been particularly good at domesticity, after all. The rare times my grandmother was home, the only thing we talked about was how untidy my room was.”

Martin’s ears perked. The opportunity to learn more about Jon and his past? It was too enticing to resist. “Your gram wasn’t home much, then?”

“Not often. She was the matriarch of our family, so important business kept her in the capital most days.”

Oh. How … odd. Martin didn’t know anything about how noble families handled representing themselves, but … “I figured your mom or dad would take care of that sort of thing after a while. Did your gram just enjoy the work?”

“Both of my parents passed when I was a child.”

Martin’s stomach plunged to his feet. What a stupid blunder to make. “I’m … I’m so sorry.”

“It was a long time ago,” Jon said, waving him away. “I was barely more than a baby at the time. I simply don’t remember enough of them to mourn their loss.”

Martin wasn’t sure if that made it worse. For all that Martin mourned the absence of his father, at least he had fleeting memories of warm hands and a deep voice to prove he’d existed at all. That he’d had a father once. “Still, that must have been … a bit lonely.”

“Not at all. I always had my governess’ supervision. She provided the structure and discipline I required.” Jon laughed, a wistful, breathy thing, and lowered his head. “I was … a rather troublesome child.”

That did even less to make Martin feel better, because he suddenly had this image, unbidden, of a little boy with big eyes and gangly knees, head hanging as his grandmother told him off in clipped tones, before leaving once again to the bustling capital. No hugs, or gentle forehead kisses. Just a scolding about his messy bedroom.

I’m sure you were wonderful, he wanted to say. I’m sure you deserved better than that.

But he was probably just projecting again.

“I’ve always liked cleaning,” Martin said, instead. “Makes me feel useful. My mum, she’s … she’s been sick most of my life. Nothing too serious,” Martin added quickly as Jon turned his head. “She just gets tired a lot. You know, hard to stay upright most of the time. There wasn’t a lot I could do to make her feel better, but keeping things clean helped.”

“I … I’m sorry to hear your mother is ill.”

“We were really lucky, actually. We lived in the same town as a really good doctor. He was really generous with us, but eventually … I-I couldn’t keep up with the bills running the farm all by myself, especially after our last goat died. We had to sell a few years ago, and I had to find work in the city.” Even after all this time, his throat tangled at the memory of leaving his childhood home. “Managed to land a really good job at the lord’s castle, so I always had money to send home. Every month. Haven’t been late once, yet. Until …”

“… Until now.”

Martin opened his mouth, because, well, he wasn’t late yet. There was still time for Martin to send his letter: about a week or so. That was plenty of time. But he refrained, because saying as much to Jon felt … dangerous. Like he was tempting fate.

Things were going to work out. They had to. The storm was going to clear, they were going to get out of here, and then …

“Your devotion to your mother is admirable,” said Jon.

Warmth ballooned in Martin’s stomach, spreading to the tips of his ears. It was an absurd thing to receive praise for (oh, you love your mother, really going above and beyond), but … well, it was still nice to hear, every once in a while. Or at all. “Thank you.”

It took most of the morning, but, with their combined efforts, they managed to restore the fireplace to an off-colour white. Martin stepped back, basking in the glow of a job well done. Jon, however, didn’t appear quite as chuffed as Martin felt. Rolling out his wrists, the man collapsed onto the couch, kicking up a cloud of dust in the process and triggering an intense coughing fit.

“Break time?” Martin asked, taking a much more gentle seat. His only answer was more coughing. Poor thing looked utterly done with the whole enterprise, if the curl of his nose was any indication. “So, what do you do for fun around here?”

“Fun?”

“Yeah. Unless you really intend to help me clean this room all day?”

Jon laughed, turning away sheepishly. “I … yes, um … Well, this and that, I suppose. Reading, mostly. I’ve always had a penchant for it, and I’ve yet to make my way through the library. Um. Music, although it’s been quite some time since the gramophone worked. I took to baking for a time. I like to think I’d gotten rather good at it.”

“Wait, so you did bake that bread? When I first got here?” Martin thought back on it, how crispy the crust was, the soft and tasty inner dough, how fresh it had been. Martin couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten fresh bread. “That’s seriously amazing.”

“It’s hardly a complex task. But … yes, thank you.” Martin wasn’t sure if it was the haze of the dust, but Jon’s face looked a bit darker, a bit flushed. But then, the good humor in Jon’s eyes fell away. “And then there was the garden, of course. It was … well. A disaster, to put it mildly.”

“What happened?”

“Well, I killed everything, didn’t I?” Jon’s eyes dropped to his lap, shoulders sinking. “Not a single bulb flourished under my care. I … I eventually figured it was more merciful to give up than keep trying.”

“Oh, I’m sure it’s not that bad.” Would be better to start with anything but roses, he wanted to suggest. You’re just setting yourself up to fail. But that would certainly come across as annoyingly patronising. “Maybe I can lend a hand?”

“Pardon?”

Wait. No. What business did Martin have making an offer like that? It wasn’t as if he knew any better about keeping things alive. But something about the resigned nature of Jon’s tone tore at him; his mouth had fallen open of its own accord.

“I-I mean … Well, it might be fun, yeah?” Martin tried. “Personally, I’ve always wanted to learn how to garden.”

“Is that so?”

Martin nodded, intending on leaving it there, but Jon was watching him, waiting. Oh.

“W-Well, uh, when I was a kid,” Martin said, face warming, “I’d always dreamed of having a, um, like a little cottage? That I owned? With a great big plot of land in the middle of a forest somewhere. Would get married, settle down, grow flowers and all kinds of food together. It’s … it’s a bit silly.”

“Not at all,” Jon said, eyes softening, and Martin’s heart fluttered something fierce. “I think that’s lovely.”

He smiled, hoping it didn’t come out as a grimace, because it had been a long, long time since he’d indulged in that particular fantasy. It just wasn’t feasible, these days, having a little cottage of his own or … or finding someone who’d want to marry him when he’s never even had a serious relationship before.

“Thank you, though, for your offer,” Jon said, cutting through Martin’s thoughts. “I’ll … be sure to consider it.”

The tight knot in Martin’s stomach unwound just a bit. “‘Course.”

By that point, the dust had become utterly unbearable, and they were forced to evacuate.

The brass of the door handle glimmered under the lamplight, rusted with age and disuse. How long had Martin been standing here, knees locked and shivering beneath the thick chill? Ages, by now. Griffiths was going to have his skin peeled for shirking his responsibilities like this, and the head butler would be perfectly within his rights.

But every time Martin tried to remind himself, that he still had so much work to do –

“… Hello?”

That voice. Still out there, somewhere behind the old door. Distant, but not beyond Martin’s reach. If Martin had already been here for ages, then that voice …

Wasn’t anyone coming for them?

If he opened the door, he could just take a quick look. Call out, see who needed help –

“And what do you think you’re doing, young man?”

Martin yanked his hand back, hand burnt on the molten brass.

“M-Mum?”

“I always knew you’d leave for good someday. I could see it in your eyes, you know. You couldn’t bear to take care of your poor, sick mother, and now you’re off to traipse about the countryside with some invert.”

“I didn’t leave.” Tight pressure strangled Martin’s throat, the back of his eyes burning. “I’d never do that. Where are you? I’m coming, I-I’ll find you–”

“And what, pray tell, would be the point of that?”

“Mum, please, just tell me where you are, I’m coming–”

“You’ve always been a wretched liar.”

Martin lurched upright, sucking painful gasps through his aching teeth, his sleep shirt sticking to his sweaty skin. No light permeated the windows— he may as well have been in a tomb, for all that he could see.

Jon was out there somewhere. Alone. As was his mother.

I’m coming back to you. I’ll find a way out of here. I’m doing everything I can–

Liar.

Martin curled up onto his side, wrapping trembling arms around himself. Even though there was no one else to hear him, no one to stifle himself for, he drove his teeth into his lip until his mouth filled with the dull taste of copper.

Check out the Monster of Magnus Manor here!

#the magnus archives #tma #jonmartin #fanfiction #fic #[air horn noises]#yes chapter 4 will now be officially two chapters #their love just could not be contained #momm

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seokiloquy · 4 years

Text

Cross the Pacific - Sugawara & Oikawa

AU: Regular (Breakup + New boo)

Requested

Tags: GN!Reader, angst, fluff, swearing, mentions of alcohol, time skip spoilers, and a lot of implied happenings

Word Count: 6k+

The gym was loud, constantly being filled with the screams of boys running around the meshed fabric as they sent balls flying in every direction. Maybe a crude description despite your knowledge of the sport, but you thought it was fitting as you watched from the sidelines next to the silver setter with a bruised knuckle.

The volleyball player winced, as you slowly moved the joint. You looked up to his panting figure, watching as he took back a large gulp of iced water with his head tilted back. A small bead of sweat trickled down the length of his neck, racing down to meet the collar of his white shirt, now turned a translucent grey in some spots from absorbing sweat off of his neck and face. You handed him a small towel, warmth dancing along your cheeks like pin needles, eager to hide the view from your sight.

With nimble fingers, you wrapped the swollen digit gently with medical tape, attaching it to the one next to it. “Koushi,” you sighed. “You’re meant to set the ball, not jab your finger into it.”

“I know, I know. I just messed up,” he laughed, giving his taped fingers a little wiggle as he removed them from your grip. “Have you heard anything from the universities yet?”

You shook your head, kissing your teeth to make a small tsk escape you as you packed up your small medkit. “Nothing. Those places don’t deserve me anyway, I’ve got bigger things coming my way. I just know it.” Despite your bravado, you could feel the small shake in your chest.

Koushi sent you a big grin, giving you a silent boost of confidence, before standing up. “You finished with the Med-club, right? I hope I didn’t pull you out too early.”

“We finished up early today, so don’t worry.” With a big swing of your bag, you got to your feet. “I’m gonna head home, okay?”

“(L/N)!” You heard Hinata call from the other end of the gym. “Come join us and play for a bit! Your boyfriend can teach you some more!” He bargained, desperately hoping you could stay longer in case a ball found his nose to be an attractive place to slam into. Though, he would never say that out loud, too prideful and easily picked on for that.

“No can do, Hinata,” you laughed, making him pout and let his shoulders fall with the weight of his arms. You turned to look at Koushi again, enjoying the practice of looking into the dark olive-green colour of his eyes.

“Do you want me to walk you? It’s getting kind of late,” he asked following your footsteps to the metal doors, ignoring the yells of his younger teammates calling for him to return.

You zipped up your large coat, preparing for the cold outside that would surely try to bite at any uncovered skin. Rising onto your toes, you pecked the small mole that delicately sat next to his eye. “I’ll be fine, Koushi,” You replied, stepping out onto the concrete stairs. “Love you.”

“Love you too, get home safe.”

Your breath wavered as you opened the email that waited in your inbox.

It was early in the morning, maybe around 6 am, the rest of your family was still asleep and you were quivering in your desk chair trying to build up the courage of opening the blasted email that waited in your inbox. Your mouth felt grimy, still sour from just waking up. You grimaced, wincing at the sunlight that decided to peek out from behind the clouds and pierce your eyes.

Weaving your fingers together, you brought the bridge of your nose, right between the brow, to rest against them. You took in a deep breath, feeling your heart trying to rip it’s way out through your sternum. This moment could be the beginning or end of your career.

As you moved the cursor to sit above the email, you spared a glance at the delicately hung photo on the wall behind your monitor. The tape had held on strong for the last couple of years. Koushi told you that ‘it wouldn’t last’ when you first stuck it up. The clear tape hasn’t given up yet. Your mom thinks it’s a good omen. You just think she spends too much time looking at horoscopes on Facebook. Either way, you thought it was a good sign.

Huffing out a shaky breath, you looked back at the hidden message and clicked it open.

The first line, then the next, then you skipped over the rest, not needing to see much more than that.

You pushed out of your chair, nearly falling to the floor of your bedroom because of your shaking knees. The fluid in your head seemed to splash up against the side of your skull and your stomach clenched in on itself, suddenly in need of food. The floor seemed much more welcoming now than a moment ago.

Softly, you dropped to your knees and let your body flatten against the cool hardwood floor. You breathed deeply, letting the cold air calm your nerves and slow down the rushing blood in your veins. You smiled, pushing your nose into the plush carpet at the foot of your bed.

“I did it. I fucking did it.”

In the hours it took for your parents to wake up, you were at your computer. The steps you had to follow were simple enough. Contact your guidance counsellor, fill in a few documents, and finally, say yes. Your hands shook the entire time.

You were in the kitchen, chugging back a large glass of water when you told your mom. She nearly broke your glass in the process of yanking you into a bone-crushing hug that made you choke.

“(Y/N). Argentina, are you kidding? You better not be lying to me or else I’m gonna cry.”

“You’re already crying. Now please, I can’t breathe here.”

She reluctantly drops her hands, turning toward the refrigerator to pull out a small tupperware container filled with leftovers you didn’t know you had. “So, what are you going to do?” she asked.

“Well, I have a few months before I leave. But I’m gonna search for an apartment, see if there are any part-time jobs I can apply for to get some extra money, apply for a Visa. I’ll even do some language courses before I go. I—”

“(Y/N),” she interjected, taking a seat at the kitchen counter. “What about Koushi?”

You paused, letting the cold air run over your shoulders as the sudden realization of the situation made itself known at the front of your mind. “Oh, right. Well, I only plan to be there for a year, then I can come back and do university here right? Koushi will get it, he’ll understand.”

He did not understand.

“What do you mean you’re leaving? You said you were going to go to Miyagi U.”

Maybe your timing was wrong. It probably would have been better to tell him after his volleyball practice when he was tired. You bounced on your toes excitedly, letting out a tiny whine as you waited for him to slow the sound of his rattling to a stop.

“I said I would apply, and I did. But unlike you, Mr. Smarty Pants, I haven’t heard from them, but I have heard from that apprenticeship in San Juan. And I want to go.”

It was cold out, the late-February wind decided today would be perfect for freezing winds. You shivered in your coat, desperately wanting to join the rest of his team inside the warm gym. You kicked your feet in the dusty snow of the ground.

Koushi shut his eyes tightly, making his nose scrunch as he bit his lip. Twitching fingers moved against his arms before finding home in his elbows. He sighed. “But what’s wrong with staying here?”

You jumped. “Nothing, Koushi. You know there’s nothing wrong here, you must know that. It’s not like I’ll be gone forever. Just a year to get some experience, and then I’ll be back before you know it.” Your voice seemed to shake, and you desperately hoped it was from the cold.

He exhaled slowly, head down and eyes staring between the metal doors of the boy’s gym. His voice was dulled, flattened, so tired. He didn’t meet your gaze, letting you stare at his silver hair for a couple of unbearable seconds.

“Koushi, aren’t you happy for me?”

“I am happy for you, (Y/N),” he said, continuing to stare through the doors. “I just— I’ll talk to you later.”

You watched silently as he walked up the concrete steps of the gym. The burning in your chest grew as he began to push the door further open, not sparing a glance over his shoulder.

“I love you, Koushi.”

There was no response as the doors shut behind him.

“Daichi,” you panted out from the gym doorway. “Is he gone?”

The following weeks until the end of the school year left radio silence between you and Koushi. You never found him in the hallways, or his classrooms before lunch, he even seemed to leave volleyball practice before club times were over. If hurt less than you thought it would, but the ‘later’ he referred to that day seemed to never come.

“I’m sorry, (Y/N),” he replied, dropping his gaze to the wood floor.

The sad stares of the boy’s volleyball team dug into your skin like dull knives. Your feet suddenly seemed a lot more interesting of a sight.

You sighed, “Don’t apologize. I’ll try again tomorrow.”

That walk home felt worse than the last.

You wanted nothing more to slump into your bed, ignoring the final assignments that you still had neglected to hand in. Before you on the computer’s monitor was one of these assignments, slowly printing out as you dug your forehead into the hardwood of your desk. With closed eyes, you listened to the whirring of the machine as the loose pieces of paper slowly poured out of the machine. Something fell onto the table. A small, stiff object that seemed to flutter before hitting the hard table.

Lifting your head you looked up to your wall. Right there. You held your breath as you looked at the lonely piece of tape that stuck to the wall. Quickly rising to your feet, your eye darted to the surface of your desk below the offending tack on the wall. Facedown, in a pile of wires that trailed to your computer, was the photograph. You delicately picked up the polaroid, inspecting the bent corner.

Sighing, you ran to your closet, pulling out an old brown box from the top shelf and throwing it onto your bed.

The next couple of hours were filled with frustrated groans and rustling of clothes as they were torn off their racks and into the dusty box. Various photos and decorations were torn off your walls and added to the sad pile with one last sigh. You ripped the necklace that sat at the collar bone of your neck, wrapping it around the small polaroid and setting it on top of the boxed pile.

You could feel your throat clamp closed as you tried to breathe in slowly. The sleeves of your sweater felt ruff against your puffy eyes. You choked.

“(Y/N), is something wrong?” Your mom peaked in through the crack in the doors opening, brows pinching together.

A cold breath escaped your tired lungs as you turned to face her. “Ya, everything’s fine. Hey, could you maybe help me book my flight?”

The corners of her lips were still pulled downwards, concern evident, but she tried her best to give you a happy smile. It just couldn’t reach her eyes. “Of course.”

Cloaked in black, you watched your graduating class pour out of the school doors in waves, each one happily carrying their protected diplomas in the palm of their hands. You gave them smiles as they walked by. From the driver's seat, your mom watched you through an open window, occasionally looking back to read the diploma in her hands.

“Are you sure you want to do this, (Y/N)?” She asked, poking her head out.

You gripped the sides of the box tighter. “I may not want to, but I haven’t been given a choice in the matter.”

She let out a sad sigh, “There’s always a choice.”

“Not this time. Sugawara hasn’t given me the luxury.”

For him to walk out of the school doors with a bright smile of his face was a punch to the face, breaking your nose. The trio of boys laughed happily as they swung their diploma filled hands in the air. Your knees shook as you waited for them to come closer to the exit.

You don’t know who saw you first, but within a matter of seconds, your mother pulled the car up the road and you were face to face with the silver-haired boy.

Swallowing the frog in your throat, you pushed the heavy old box into his chest, smudging a bit of dust onto his black uniform.

“What’s all this?” he asked, raising a brow teasingly.

You tried not to scoff, “It’s not a present if that’s what you’re thinking.”

Propping it onto his knee, Sugawara flipped up the lid of the box, peering inside. His brow changed, pushing to meet in the center of his face. Dropping the lid, he continued to hold the fuddled expression as he looked at you. “Are you breaking up with me?”

“More like finalizing what you started,” you pushed out quietly.

“(Y/N), please, you can’t just—”

“Just what?” you asked, pushing yourself to speak louder as you met his eyes. “Just cut you off after not seeing you for weeks? I didn’t even know if your injury healed!” you stopped, breathing slowly as you tried your best to calm the vibrating nerves in your body. “I don’t know what you were expecting, but if it wasn’t this, you’re an imbecile.”

He tipped the box open again, taking hold of something from the top. “I didn’t think—”

“Obviously,” you huffed hastily. “Look, I’ve got to go. I have somewhere to be.” You stepped back slowly, suddenly finding the view of your mom’s car much more interesting.

The space between you felt larger than it has been in weeks despite being only an arm's reach away. You breathed in deeply. You spun on your heel, turning to the old car, only to be stopped by the dusty box pressing into your stomach as Sugawara rushed to block off your path.

“Where are you going? We still need to talk about this.”

“There’s nothing more to say. Now please, I need to go.” You tried to walk around, but he quickly sidestepped in your way.

“Where?”

You let out an annoyed huff. “I have a plane to catch.”

He pushed forward, head falling over the box as he tried to get closer. “A plane? Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?”

“How was I supposed to, huh?” you screeched. “I saw no hide nor hair from you for weeks, and you expect me to tell you I’m leaving when you’re the one that was purposefully avoiding me?!”

You could feel the stares of your school mates as they slowly walked past like traffic around a car accident. The anger that was bubbling in your stomach was overflowing so much that you thought you were going to puke. Despite everything in your body telling you not to, you continued.

“You just ghosted me, even worse, you cut me off. Not once did you try to reach out, or talk to me, you never told me your qualms or worries. I would’ve listened.” The tears that poured down your face only stung the wound more. “But, you didn’t tell me anything. So I’m leaving. You have no say in that anymore, not now.”

“(Y/N), I—”

“Bye, Sugawara.”

This time, as you bent your body around his to continue down the sidewalk, he didn’t stop you.

Once in the passenger seat of your mom’s car, you pushed your head back into the plush seat and closed your eyes, letting all the air in your lungs slowly roll off your tongue. The blood in your head throbbed loudly, making your ears hurt. You pushed back the seat, lying as flat as you could with the suitcases that were propped behind it. A sniffle escaped.

Foot pressing on the gas, your mom gave you a pitiful look from the corner of her eye, before shooting her gaze back to the road as she has been for the past number of stifling minutes. Reaching over, she knocked your arm off of your eyes. “I know, I know. But you can sleep on the plane,” she paused for a moment, “How are you feeling?”

You swallowed harshly, “Like a demon decided to make home in my brain and eats its way to my heart.” Turning your head you gave your mom a sad grin, “I’m naming it Baloo.”

She laughed.

Economy seating, though often cramped, wasn’t so bad if you weren’t in front of a crying kid, or next to someone who’s body odour overpowered the strength altitude had on your senses. Luckily, you got neither of them. Instead next to you sat a boy who didn’t pack his headset in his carryon.

You desperately wanted to sleep off all the sourness and pain in your eyes, but the gentle sound coming out of his computer kept you awake. Through narrowed eyes, you shifted your head to watch his frozen profile stare into the bright screen in front of him and the video that played quietly among the silent passengers.

His sweater was a dull, soft yellow, colour faded after years of being worn casually. His fingers held the ends of the sleeves, covering the palms of his hands. He didn’t blink, eyes shot frozen in a wide position, letting in as much light as possible

“I hate to interrupt, but don’t you think you should sleep at some point?” you whispered near his shoulder.

His warm brown eyes turned to meet your suspicious gaze with a shocked expression pulling at the edges, his lips pursed together. “If I sleep now, I’ll be sleeping throughout the day in Argentina. Did I wake you? I can turn it down if you’d like.”

You shook your head, arching off the plush chair to let your elbow push into the armrest between you, accidentally bumping shoulders along the way. “It’s alright,” you said, rubbing the long since dried tears from your eyes, “couldn’t sleep anyway. Is that the San Juan team?” You asked, nodding your head in the direction of the video playing on his laptop.

“Oh, ya. It is,” he replied, keeping his voice low. “Do you know anything about volleyball?” he asked, brushing a bit of hair off his forehead.

You nodded keeping your eyes trained on the setters that stood in the center of the plays. “I know more than I’d like to admit.”

“Really?” his voice picked up, excitement pouring through his words. “Well, I’m trying out for their team, so I want to see how they play a bit more before the tryout.” He turned to face you. “You look surprised.”

“Huh, oh,” you laughed, trying not to bite your lip. “It’s just an unlikely coincidence.”

He gave you a teasing smirk, pushing his elbow to rest behind yours on the plastic armrest. “How so?”

You gulped, tempted to lean away from his curious posture. The words escaped you in a hesitant but excited nature, “I just so happen to have an apprenticeship with their medical team.”

A large smile broke out onto his cheeks, nearly letting his words fall out in a tumbling yell. “Really? Then we’ll be seeing each other a lot more then. That’s awesome.”

“If you get on the team.”

He scoffed, “Oh, I’ll get on. Just watch me.”

“Then you’ll be getting injured a lot, I presume.”

The 24-hour plane ride continued smoothly. Filled with small, excited conversations in between and slightly awkward awakens on the other’s shoulder after short naps. All while suspended in the air over a large body of water.

Talks about your schools and friends ran smoothly until he brought up the discoloured skin around your eyes. But, despite your apprehension, he safely maneuvered around the topic, not letting your conversation slip into an uneasy, awkward, silence. The food was tasteless, but filling, giving you both a laugh and another conversation starter, which he listened to intently, watching you ramble over how the altitude changes your ability to smell and taste. And you reciprocated when the topic of family came up and he took the opportunity to gush over his young nephew. It was nice. Very nice.

“Do you have an apartment set up near the sports centre?” he asked with a loud yawn, as you stood next to each other in the crowd, waiting for your luggage to slowly slide onto the conveyor belt. He brushed his gently swooping hair back.

You blinked slowly, desperately trying to not rub your tired eye sockets as you pulled one of your suitcases off the moving machine before it ran away. “I, ugh, was sort of in a rush to get out of Miyagi. I sort of overlooked finding a place to live,” you let out a sad, self-deprecating chortle. “I fucked up, I’m a fuck up. Fuck. I’ll just live on a park bench.”

Your new friend let out a sharp and heavy laugh, relying on his blue suitcase to carry his weight.

“You can stop laughing, I’m being serious.”

“No, you’re not. Come on, I already have an apartment waiting to accommodate my tired ass. You can stay with me. We can live more frugally. You only plan on being here for a year right?”

You sighed, giving in and using the back of your wrist to rub your eyes. “That was the plan. But,” you paused, looking at the contact information on our suitcase for a moment. “I’m not sure if I have much to go back to now.”

You could feel the combination of heartache and exhaustion weighing down on our shoulder after hours not being able to cope with your new relationship status. A yawn tore its way out of you.

“Well,” He began. “Maybe, you’ll find something to stay for. Now come on,” He said, offering you a cluttered elbow to hook your bag covered arm into, “We’ve got an apartment to fill.”

Sugawara sat in the center of his small on-campus residence flipping through the various textbooks that stacked on top of each other across his small desk. His head pounded at the temples as he searched for a key sticky note he had left somewhere in the many pages. The old box laid untouched at the end of his dorm bed next to Sawamura, who for once, seemed uncaring of his friend’s personal space.

“What are you gonna do with all this stuff anyway?” he asked, lifting one of Sugawara’s worn out sweaters from the pile.

“Well, half of it was originally mine, so I guess I need to keep it. But can you not go through that stuff, I can’t stand to look at it,” the leaner, stressed man snapped over his shoulder at his friend who worked on folding the wrinkled clothes that he pulled from the offending box.

Sawamura sighed, “Dude. I hate to say it, but it’s been months. You’re going to have to face it eventually, and the best way to start is to go through this box.” With a satisfied huff, he dropped it onto the floor.

“Daichi,” Sugawara drawled, spinning in his chair, swinging an arm over the back, to look at the cardboard on the floor. “(Y/N)’s going to be stuck here with me forever, I can’t change that. How am I supposed to just toss it away? I can’t bring myself to do it.”

Sawamura dragged his fingernails over his scalp, looking up at his long time friend from his haunched position. He wanted to look away as soon as the words came out of his mouth, not bearing the sight of his torn friend’s expression. “Koushi,” he said. “You already have.”

“Oikawa, one of these days you’re going to get a knee replacement I swear.”

The setter rested along the length of the black faux-leather couch that was pushed against the wall of your living room, leg propped up on a large pillow as he scrolled through the various cable networks that played Spanish soap operas more often than the news. He let out a childish whine, followed by a laugh.

“It won’t ever come to that, (Y/N). After all,” he sent you a flirtatious smile. “You’re my personal doctor.”

You scoffed, dropping a fresh ice pack onto his knee, making him yelp at the sudden temperature change. “I’m not your personal anything dumbass.”

“Are you sure about that?” he dropped the remote onto the short table next to him, finally settling on a show that had English subtitles running along the bottom of the large screen attached to the wall.

“You’re right. I’m your babysitter,” you teased, hopping away from the couch toward the kitchen.

“Hey!” he shouted, trying to follow you toward the marble counters.

“No Moving, Oikawa!”

Huffing, he crossed his arms and fell back onto the couch, pouting up to the tv. You watched his childish tantrum fizzle out as you filled up two glasses with water. It was hot out. The both of you were in loose shorts and t-shirts, desperate to get as much heat off your bodies as possible. Oikawa waited for you to come back with the cold peace offering before speaking again.

“When are you gonna call me ‘Tooru’? I want to hear you say it before you leave Argentina and go back to Japan. Can’t you grant me that wish?” he pleaded, nursing his cold glass in the palms of his hands, before setting it on the table next to yours.

You settled into the open space his feet left at the end of the plush couch, trying not to shift his injured leg too much. He responded to your silence by kicking his other leg over your lap, making you look at him, unamused. He prodded for an answer.

A sigh escaped you involuntarily as you stared off into the white wall of your shared apartment. “What if,” you pondered, breathing in slowly with a quiet voice. “What if I don’t leave? What would you want then?”

Months turned nearly a year of living together and working in close quarters had somehow turned the most wretched day of your life into a jumble of colours you could never begin to describe. Months of thinking about your next steps, reflecting over past mistakes, and dreaming of the possibilities of what could lay open, uncovered in the white wall of this apartment. You didn’t know what you were going to do come the date of your planned return to Japan, but you did know what you wanted here.

You slowly turned your dazed eyes over to the injured setter that sat next to you, the earnest emotion in his eyes rolled into you, not letting you look away or blink.

His hand came to wrap around your arm as he shifted as close as he could without bending his knee. The hand then slowly trailed down to hold yours. He never broke eye contact for even a second. Your free hand came to grip the hem of his shirt tightly, knuckles brushing over the taut skin above his hip bone.

“If you decided to stay, would you let me be a little selfish?” His voice was barely over a whisper, breath smoothly mingling with your own. So gentle that it would have been difficult to hear over the tv if you were even an inch farther away.

“Tooru—”

“What?!” the younger man screamed, grabbing the attention of the other diners that were eating in the small bar/restaurant. Making them all glare at his copperhead for interrupting their meals.

“Four years and you’re as loud as ever. Would you calm down for once? Yes, okay? I am, we are,” Oikawa huffed, waving the younger man down as he desperately tried the more than spiteful looks that were sent their way.

“I haven’t seen (L/N) in forever. I didn’t think I’d see them again.”

The two men sat in a small seaside restaurant with a view of the beach right outside the large open windows, both tired from a day of playing in the sand with a couple of competitive strangers. The city was still alive hours after the sun had set. People were out at parties, drinking wine in fancy restaurants, or dancing to music that blared over the loudspeakers in the more populated streets.

Hinata slowly lowered himself back into the wooden chair, hopping slightly to get it tucked underneath the table again. With raised brows and pinched lips, the carrot top shifted his elbows onto either side of his near-empty plate, watching with wrapped attention as Oikawa took a bite from the large steak that sat on the porcelain platter.

“Well, since you're in Brazil, why don’t you join? We can probably even sneak in a game at the beach afterwards,” he said with a hand over his mouth as he chewed away at the juicy slab of meat. “We just can’t let (Y/N) know.”

“Are you sure you want me there?” Hinata asked as he set his glass of water down. “I don’t want to intrude or anything.”

“It’s gonna be a small event and reception, so there won’t be a lot of people, and you’ll meet my teammates. Besides,” Oikawa gave the eager volleyball player a gentle smile. “I think it would be nice for both of us to have another old friend around.”

“Everyone’s gonna be speaking Spanish and English though,” Hinata slumped into his chair, grimace pulling at the edge of his lips. “I can understand some English, sure, but who would I talk to? The two of you will be busy the whole time.”

Oikawa spun the last bit of water in his glass slowly. “Don’t worry about that, our families are flying in and so is Iwaizumi. So there will be more than a few Japanese speakers there.”

Hinata sat straighter in his seat, shoulder pushing up to his ears as a large smile pulled at tanned cheeks. “Ooh? Really!” his voice rose, grabbing the attention of the irked customers around them. He lowered his voice, immediately noticing the glares sent his way. “I’d love to play a game with him too.” He paused briefly. “But Oikawa.”

“Hmmm, What’s wrong?”

“I don’t have a suit.”

The screams of the hundreds of people in the stadium poured over everyone’s heads into the lower floor where the game would take place. It was wild. People from around the globe sat in the rows of plastic chairs, yelling over each other as they tried to make their words heard. From the main halls, Sugawara stood with his long time friends, sipping away at a customary plastic cup of beer, listening to the roars of opposing fans scream their chants at each other.

“This is so crazy, isn’t it? People we knew and played with, are going to be on the big stage for the whole world to see,” Sawamura let out in a large breath of air. “We played with some insane kids.”

Sugawara laughed, dropping his cup toward his waist. “We sure did.”

“I can’t imagine being on that court. The thought alone gives me shivers,” Asahi chipped in with a shudder.

The three slowly began to make their way through the large crowds towards their designated seats near Japan’s cheer squad. Daichi shifted his shoulders as he walked past an unwavering group that wouldn’t move. “We’re all going to the meetup later, right?”

The meetup. Sugawara was excited to see his old teammates and rivals again, though he was certain that the night would more than likely be filled with incoherent shouting matches over a hefty dinner made of mostly protein. He was right of course. About the large meals and loud yelling with a side of alcohol.

But he didn’t expect to see you waltz in, arm in arm with the infamous Oikawa Tooru, with an Argentine officials uniform pulled fittingly onto your arms.

He spent the whole night trying to get your attention to turn his way, but you seemed to be enraptured with the conversation you held with his previous underclassmen. Hinata especially seemed to be excited to talk to you.

So he settled with watching from afar. Letting the sight of the warmly lit environment make your skin let off a healthy glow. Those hours away from you, out of reach but in his sights, made that old wound reopen in his chest. Letting his spine curl into the wooden backrest of the chair he occupied.

“(L/N),” he said, finally able to pull you away from the brunet’s side and brush off Sawamura’s pestering. “How— how have you been? I haven’t seen you since…” his voice tapered off, suddenly realizing the situation that the little bit of liquid courage has put him into.

You gave him a large smile, maybe a bit guilty, but large nonetheless. “Ya. It sure has been. That’s my fault though, I ended up staying in Argentina. Not my original plan, but it just sort of happened.” Your voice raised at the end, almost as if you sounded embarrassed. The glass of water in your hand was quickly held up to your mouth.

“Well, it’s nice to have you back. Maybe we can—”

“Eh, look who it is. Karasuno’s designated pretty setter.” Oikawa, the man that had been glued to your side all night, rarely ever lifting the arm that once again was attached to the length of your shoulders. “How have you been, Mr. Refreshing?”

“I’ve been good. I started working at an elementary school.”

“Really?” you piped. A smile pulled your features as if you had just seen the more endearing thing. “That’s amazing, Sugawara, you’ve always liked kids.”

“Ya, I’m—”

“Oikawas!” The younger, redheaded man was at it again, yelling over the bustling crowd that filled the restaurant as he tried to run over.

Sugawara sighed, shaking his head at Hinata’s antics to grab the other player’s attention. He was about to yell at him to settle down before it occurred to him, successfully being the third person to cut himself off within the five-minute conversation. His brow furrowed and cheeks flushed, turning his head to look at the muscular arm that draped across your shoulders. He gulped.

“Oikawas?” he emphasized, successfully pulling your attention back to his confused gaze.

Biting your lip, you gave him a nervous smile.

In a single moment, the sound of the people around him washed away into a throbbing silence. His smile dropped and his eyes began to widen. The sight of the two people before him began to wash away all other distractions like tunnel vision. Whether it was the alcohol in his system, or his social battery running low, it didn’t matter. The image was unmistakable and the recognition in his eyes told you that.

Delicately wrapped around the fourth finger of your hand, on the hands of the two people before him, were perfectly polished gold bands.

I’ll be honest. This was like 2 sentences off from including smut…. I don’t write smut sooooo, Sorry buds - Bacon

Posted: 27/08/2020

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pindaleng · 4 years

Link

Title: But I Knew You

Pairing: Avatrice

Chapters: 1/1

Wordcount: 2270

Summary: College AU. Beatrice is Ava’s favorite person. Ava loves being around her in a way she can’t explain. She wants to do everything with her, from studying to partying to walks outside. Which is completely normal for best friends.

Getting flustered by close contact and fake flirting is also definitely a super normal friendship thing.

Read on AO3 or below.

“I don’t get it.”

Beatrice sighed from her desk. “You don’t have to, it’s organic chemistry.”

“But I feel like I should. Like, this is the structure of living things right? I’m living, so I should understand how it works.”

“You use the internet, but you don’t know how that works.”

“Good point.” Ava shut the thick textbook in front of her. She didn’t really want to learn anyways. “You done yet?”

Beatrice sighed again, turning in her chair to face Ava, who was sitting on her bed. “We’ve only been working half an hour, and I specifically said I was spending the entire day studying. Which you should be doing too, since I know you said you have an exam Monday.”

“Fine Ms. Studious.” Ava made a big show of loudly unzipping her backpack and finally pulling out her laptop and notebooks. “I’ll…study,” she said, punctuating her last word with air quotes.

Beatrice narrowed her eyes, definitely looking skeptical, but turned back to her own pile of schoolwork.

Ava opened up her Google doc notes on her laptop, and simultaneously picked up her phone to check Twitter. Beatrice was right to doubt her; she practically never did any work on Saturdays. That’s what Sundays were for.

And yet, every Saturday, she showed up at Beatrice’s room under the guise of studying, just so she could hang out with her favorite person. Beatrice was one of the few people Ava felt comfortable in silence with, maybe due to all the death glares she’s received from Beatrice when she’s being too distracting.

Either way, she found comfort in it, even if they’re just sitting in the same room together, focused on their own activities. Beatrice studying, and Ava scrolling through social media on her phone, occasionally typing a paragraph or two for a paper due the following week.

They’re pretty much polar opposites, and Ava often wondered how they stuck as friends. Probably due to the weird crucible of living on the same freshman year dorm floor. People got to know everyone really quickly, for better or worse.

Luckily, it turned out for the better with everyone Ava met. A few of them with rooms in the north wing bonded fast, and they rented a house together for their sophomore year. She loved them all: Mary, Lilith, Camila, and Beatrice.

But especially Beatrice.

Beatrice was smart, kind, and witty, and honestly the best listener Ava’s ever met. Ava unabashedly talks a lot. Like, a lot. And being like that, people can lose interest as conversation and friendships progress.

But Beatrice still gave Ava her full attention after a year of Ava talking her ear off. Which was still impressive every time.

It’s cool.

It’s cool that she has a solid group of friends when there was no one back home to keep in touch with.

She really loved it here.

There were so many things to do and people to meet, sometimes she still got overwhelmed by it all.

And the best place to get the full experience? College parties.

It was the midst of midterm season, but honestly all the more necessary to have something to blow off stress. And to be real, midterm season lasted from the second month of school to the end of the semester. So, no better time than the present.

After Ava got kicked out of Beatrice’s room for being too distracting, she spent most of that evening helping the rest of her housemates set up their party. Mary was in charge of getting alcohol, having the most connection with older students. Lilith put Ava and Camila in charge of cleaning and setting up, which basically meant that Lilith didn’t trust Ava to actually do the work well. Ava would have been offended if she didn’t enjoy spending time with Camila so much. The girl was a ball of literal sunshine, yet also unexpectedly, full of dirty jokes.

So, setting up the apartment with Camila was a party in itself, full of fun banter and deep life discussions.

Ava just finished putting out the snacks and booze, when the first people arrived. She cracked open a bottle of Fireball, and downed a double shot.

Ava happily shook out her body as the the liquid warmed her up. It was going to be a good night.

———

Ava’s in the middle of laughing at some stranger’s story when she caught sight of a figure coming down the stairs. She grinned.

“Woo! Life of the party’s here!!!” She yelled across the room, startling the people around her, and drawing Beatrice’s attention towards her. If Ava was sober, maybe she would have cared more that Beatrice looked slightly (very) embarrassed, but Ava definitely wasn’t sober. She half skipped and half jogged across the room, undoubtedly spilling her drink on herself and several bystanders.

She hugged Beatrice tightly when she reached her. God it felt nice. Like sinking into a bed of clouds. Or something similarly soft and fluffy and comforting. “I missed you.”

Beatrice laughed softly, close to Ava’s ear. The best sound in the world. “You just saw me a couple of hours ago.”

Ava pulled away and pouted. “Still.”

Beatrice smiled, in a perfect way that made her entire face brighter. Holy hell she was beautiful. “Well, I finished up for the day and I’m here now. Any chance you can show me where the party is?” Her eyes sparkled with playfulness.

Ava looked at her in disbelief. “Wait seriously? You wanna join?”

“I can’t be a dud at a party in my own house, can I?”

Beatrice had definitely sat out on many parties they’ve hosted, but Ava ignored that. For now, she was going to enjoy this win. She led her to the kitchen, where various bottles of alcohol and sodas crowded their dining table. Beatrice shrugged when Ava asked what she wanted, so she just made a vodka cranberry. It was a crowd pleaser drink in her opinion. Plus, some rich kid brought Grey Goose, which was probably double or triple the price of everything else on the table.

Beatrice took a sip. “Not bad.”

“I may not know much,” Ava tapped her index finger a couple times to her temple, “but I do know my liquor.”

“Don’t sell yourself short, you also know how to get on my nerves.” Beatrice said teasingly, voice devoid of any malice.

Ava took a overdramatic bow. “Thank you, m’lady.” She refilled her own cup with a mixture of vodka and sprite. “Shall we?” Ava offered her hand to the other girl.

Beatrice rolled her eyes, but put her hand in Ava’s.

Ava led them back to the main room, navigating through groups of bodies to eventually land them at a couch, which was miraculously unclaimed.

From there, Ava launched into basically non-stop talking, wanting to entertain Beatrice in the best way she knew how. She shared stories of all the people she met during the night so far, with Beatrice supplementing the conversation with appropriate reactions and commentary. Ava recounted one guy that recklessly challenged her to shotgunning a beer against him. Spoiler alert, he lost miserably. Ava watched Beatrice’s eyes as much as she could while she was talking, entranced with their intenseness, openness, and expression. Did they always look like that?

The eye contact felt so personal, like it took away everyone else in the room, ignoring the raging party and loud music around them.

And the music was definitely loud, though the song choices were good. Mary knew how to set up a playlist. Ava got banned from music duty when she un-ironically added in Friday by Rebecca Black.

No regrets.

After exhausting all the tales from that night, she moved to discussing and speculating with Beatrice on the backstories of all the partygoers. People watching with Beatrice was always fun. As strait-laced as she appeared, Beatrice was also incredibly creative. Whatever wild stuff Ava theorized, Beatrice could match or do better.

At one point, a couple joined them on the couch, pushing Ava into Beatrice, pressing their sides together. The couch was much too small to comfortably fit 3 people, much less four.

“Shit, sorry.” Ava tried her best to back up and give Beatrice space, but there was nowhere to go.

Beatrice put a hand on her thigh and smiled. “Ava, it’s fine.”

Ava suddenly found it hard to breathe. Probably due to being surrounded by two more people.

“You okay?” Beatrice furrowed her eyebrows.

“Yeah, think I just need to get out here for a bit. Wanna take a walk?”

“Sure.”

There was a nice, cool breeze outside, a welcome relief from the humid air inside. It was also much quieter.

Beatrice suggested getting ice cream from Mcdonald’s and Ava emphatically agreed. Beatrice really knew her.

Fifteen minutes later she was contently humming to herself as they walked back to the house. This was the best party ever. She had an ice cream cone in one hand and somehow Beatrice’s hand in the other. A perfect night. Ava’s pretty sure this is the happiest she’s ever been in her entire life.

———

Ava groaned as she slid back into consciousness. She felt grimy, which was not unusual for her after a night of drinking.

She did a quick self inventory to assess the damage.

She was in her own bed, which was good. Boxers? On. Shirt? Also on, but in her sleep shirt instead of the button up she was wearing last night. Interesting. No bra. Also interesting.

She felt around to her right and left. No body in the bed with her. Good to know.

Minimal pounding in her head. She sat up, breathing a sigh of relief that she didn’t feel like throwing up.

She noticed a glass of water and a couple of Advils on her nightstand. Definitely Beatrice. No one else would be nice enough. Okay maybe Camila, but she still had bets on Beatrice.

She quickly washed down the pills with water and slipped on shorts and a pullover before making her way downstairs to the kitchen.

Mary was sitting at the table eating, and Beatrice at the stove pouring batter into a pan.

“Pancakes, oh my god. Bea you’re the best.” Ava gave Beatrice a tight hug and overdramatic sloppy kiss on the cheek.

Beatrice playfully pushed Ava away and made a show of wiping the kiss off her face. “Yeah yeah I know, now eat it while it’s still hot.”

Ava saluted. “Got it chef.”

“Dork.”

“You love it.”

“No comment.”

Ava’s in the middle of inhaling her fifth pancake when Mary said something. Beatrice left the room about a pancake ago, so it could only have been directed at Ava.

“What?” Ava momentarily stopped chewing.

Mary got up and started rinsing her dishes in the sink. “I said, you should really tell her how you feel.”

Ava knitted her eyebrows together. “About what?”

Mary stared at her for a while, long enough to make Ava to feel uncomfortable. Her mouth was still full, and Mary has perfected the gaze that made her feel like a kid in trouble.

“Never mind,” she said, as she put her dishes in the dishwasher.

“About what??” She repeated. Mary ignored her and walked out the kitchen. Ava swallowed the rest of the food in her mouth. “Asshole!” Ava yelled after her, eliciting a middle finger response.

Beatrice appeared in the doorway. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just Mary being cryptic and messing with me.”

“Sounds about right.”

Beatrice sat down at the table. “How are you feeling?”

“Surprisingly… not bad. Seriously thank you for the food and Advils,” Ava remembered her state of dress when she woke up. “And…probably also for helping me out of my clothes.”

“Oh um, right, it was nothing. Didn’t want you sleeping in an uncomfortable, sweaty shirt.” Ava noticed Beatrice’s cheeks turn a little pink. Shit, she didn’t mean to embarrass her. She could fix this.

“Did you see something you like?” Ava wiggled her eyebrows, trying to lighten the mood, but it only made Beatrice blush harder. Oh my god Ava you’re so bad at this. She felt herself digging herself into a hole. Of course fake flirting with her is going to make it worse.

Ava was about to say something (probably dumb) to attempt again to save the situation, before Beatrice spoke.

“How could I not? You’re beautiful.”

For once, Ava was speechless. The incredibly reverent but casual way Beatrice said it completely took her breath away. There was something magical about how soft Beatrice’s eyes were, and how vulnerable it felt. Half of Ava felt calmed, while the other half of her was a raging mess. Ava felt the need to do something. She wasn’t sure what, but she needed to do something. She started racking her garbled brain for any ideas.

Beatrice’s smile slowly slid into a smirk, “Got you.”

The spell of the moment was broken. Ava laughed to dust off any lingering weird feelings. “Wow, got a taste of my own medicine. I’m impressed.”

“I had a good teacher. You should have seen your face.” Beatrice mimicked a “deer in the headlights” look for a brief moment before grinning again. She got up from the table. “Now hurry up and finish your food so we can get to the library. I’m not going to let you forget about studying for your midterm tomorrow.”

“Right. Yeah.”

“Cool.” Beatrice slapped Ava’s arm playfully before leaving the room.

Ava watched her go, wondering what in the living hell just happened. Fuck. Was she about to kiss her best friend?

#avatrice #sister beatrice #ava silva #warrior nun #college au #fic #fanfic #mine

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etherealwaifgoddess · 4 years

Text

Run To You - Chpt.6

Summary: Fleeing their old lives in New York, Bucky and Becca find new possibilities in their new hometown. Master list is HERE :)

Content Warning: None, just lots of plot in this one.

Word Count: 4.7k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! This chapter is pretty dense but it was needed to keep the plot moving forward. I personally love the domesticity of it, and I hope you do too.

Chapter Six

Blending in amongst a sea of tired passengers proves easier than Bucky expected. Becca is fast asleep, a warm and comforting weight in his arms. He’s grateful they’re the only ones in their train compartment so he has room to throw his bags on one seat and stretch out on the others. It’s a long ride, just over five hours, and he manages to catch a few cat naps here and there. Becca wakes up as the train comes to a stop, looking around confused and a little startled.

“Hey sweet girl, take a minute.” he says quietly, rubbing a hand along her back soothingly.

“Where are we?” she asks, looking around.

“We’re on a train, it just stopped in Boston. This is where we’re getting off. I promise you I’ll explain everything once we’re on the next train but I need you to do two things for me, okay?” he waits until she nods before continuing, “Okay, good. I need you to stay real close to me and don’t use our names. Can you do that?”

Becca scrunches her nose in a confused expression Bucky knows she gets from him. “Okay?”

“We’ll be on the next train soon, promise. Just be a big girl and hang on ‘til we get there.” The attendant comes through to let them know they can exit the train and Bucky stands up to once again juggle a sleepy four year old and two duffel bags. Becca is thankfully more cooperative now that she’s awake, holding onto him and making the whole ordeal much easier. They have just enough time to use the bathrooms and buy some snacks and a picture book on Boston to keep Becca occupied on the next leg of their trip.

On their next train, from Boston to Portland, Bucky finds they once again have a whole compartment to themselves. He wonders how Natasha manages to pull off this kind of stuff but figures it’s better not to think too hard on it. Becca is happily munching through a pack of teddy grahams while Bucky gets them settled in. Not a great breakfast, but it’ll tide them over until they get to Maine. He cracks open his can of cold brew coffee and tears into his own pack of teddy grahams. Kid snack or not, they’re freaking delicious.

“Bu... uh…” Becca starts to say his name but catches herself.

“Good girl, bug.” praises the little girl. “What’s up?”

Becca looks around unsure before quietly asking, “Why can’t we use our names?”

It’s a simple question, one he knew was going to come up sooner rather than later, and he’d spent a good portion of the first train ride figuring out how he’d explain this to her. “Well, those aren’t our names anymore.” he starts simply.

“What? Why?”

“Because we’re moving far away where those bad guys from yesterday can’t find us. I need to keep us safe and this is the way it needs to happen. New names, new apartment, new school, new everything. It’s going to be really nice and I promise you’ll love where we’re going.” He hopes.

Tears well for a moment, “What about Auntie Nat and Uncle Clint and Steve?”

“They’re staying in New York but we’ll still talk to Auntie Nat sometimes, okay?”

“What about Steve? You liked him. I liked him. Why can’t he come?”

Bucky sighs, he won’t throw Steve under the bus for this. “Steve has a really important job in New York so he needs to stay there.”

“I’m gonna miss home.” Becca grumbles sadly. Bucky pulls her onto his lap to hold her close.

“I know, I am too. But we’re gonna have a great new home. Want to know your new name?” he tries for a distraction.

“Sure!” Becca takes the bait.

“Your name is Elena Stan. My name is Sebastian Stan.”

“Seb-bast-tan?” Becca tries his name out slowly.

“Close enough. But you know how you asked if you could call me daddy when you were little?”

Becca nods. That had been a rough phase for both of them. She had wanted to call him daddy so badly but it had made him uncomfortable at the time so he insisted she call him by his name.

“Well, now you can. In our new lives Sebastian is Elena’s daddy.” Part of him still dislikes that the effort he put into making sure Becca knows her own identity has flown out the window overnight. When she gets older he hopes she’ll understand why he’s doing this. “It’s gonna be hard to remember at first, but we’ll get used to it.”

“Okay.” Becca shrugs and goes back to her snack, her curiosity sated for the time being.

Bucky settles in, starting to feel the weight of the previous day pressing down on him. He prays the coffee kicks in soon so he’s not a zombie by the time they get where they’re going. Becca seems happy enough keeping herself occupied with her new book and he makes plans to buy a few toys once they get to the next stop. Just a few things that will keep her busy at their new place so he can catch a quick nap. He doesn’t know what their financial situation is but he can’t imagine Natasha wouldn’t have moved over his money for him. There had been two hundred in cash in the wallet so that will at least tide them over until he can check the card balances. He’s lucky Becca is an easy kid and he just hopes that she’ll take this all in stride like she does most things. And if not, well she’s a four year old, distractions and redirections still work at this age thankfully.

The second train ride is half the time of the first but Bucky is starting to feel worn out and grimy. The last leg of their trip is a twenty minute bus ride from Portland to Cape Elizabeth and once again they have just enough time to use the bathroom and hit up a train station gift shop. He buys a plastic tea set, a stuffed ladybug, and breakfast sandwiches before they have to race over to catch their bus. Becca is more awake now and she’s keeping up on her own, hugging the ladybug for dear life while she settles into their bus seats.

Maine is different than Bucky expected, colder sure, but the water even looks different than back in New York even though both places connect to the Atlantic Ocean. There’s something about the clear, turbulent water that seems more powerful and deeply elemental than the easy going tides back in Brooklyn. Bucky’s captivated watching the ocean out the bus window while the old Greyhound travels down the coastal highway. After two long train rides, the bus ride feels like it’s over in a blink of an eye. The bus stop they’re let out at is small, barely more than a little hut alongside the road outside of town.

Becca is full of wide eyed curiosity as they make their way into town. Bucky has the address of the apartment, but with no clue of the little town’s set up it’s not very useful. He misses his phone and being able to GPS his way around. It’s a few minutes later that he remembers the phone in the package Natasha gave him. He’d forgotten about it in his sleep deprived state, having stashed it in his bag since he wasn’t able to use it until after the first leg of the trip. Booting up the sleek red iPhone, Bucky’s relieved to see it has a full charge and it finds a GPS signal quickly. The apartment is only a fifteen minute walk away at that point and Bucky happily tells Becca they’ll be home soon. She nods but she’s clearly distracted by her new surroundings.

The little seaside town is quaint and reminds Bucky of something out of a movie. Small brick and glass fronted shops line the town’s main street, brightly colored banners and awnings announcing the businesses inside. There are a lot of artisan shops and Bucky finds himself looking forward to exploring the town more when they have time. The first priority though is getting settled in. Becca is tired and starting to whine a little by the time they turn onto their street. It’s as picturesque as the rest of town, tree lined sidewalks and charming old brick homes. Finding their house number, Bucky pauses outside, not entirely sure how to proceed. Natasha hadn’t given him a key, just an address. He’s still standing there, thinking out his next moves when an older woman pops her head out the front door.

“Are you Sebastian?” the woman calls out with a smile.

“Yes, I am.” Bucky replies easily, the new name less foreign than he had expected it to feel.

“I’m Anne, from the emails. You two made good time getting up here. Come on in and I’ll get you set up.” The woman stands back from the doorway letting them through and Bucky is thankful Natasha set things up so thoroughly for them.

Anne, as it turns out, grew up in the large Victorian style home before she and her sisters renovated it back in the 70s and turned it into apartments. She still lives in the bottom floor apartment but rents out the second and third floors now that her sisters both passed on. She’s chatty and grandmotherly, doting on Becca by plying the little girl with blueberry cake. Becca doesn’t bat an eye at being called Elena and Bucky couldn’t be more proud of his girl.

“You both must be exhausted from the trip.” Anne says after Bucky has finished signing all the paperwork for the apartment. “If you need anything, I’m here. Like I said in the email, it’s fully furnished but if you would rather bring in your own things just let me know and I’ll move the existing pieces into storage. It’ll at least get you started though.”

Bucky stifles his yawn but nods, “Yeah, I think we’re both due for a nap. I’m sure what’s there is fine, we’re not super picky.”

Anne gives him a smile and shows him outside to the stairs that lead up to his apartment. Bucky thanks her again and makes his way up the narrow wooden stairs. After the long trip and lack of sleep the stairs feel like Everest and a grumbling Becca clearly agrees. The door is cheerfully decorated with a sunflower wreath and the apartment inside is instantly welcoming. The living room has a little tile entryway where they shuck off their shoes before padding across the fluffy beige carpeting. The dining room is off to one side after the hallway, connecting to the kitchen which is brightly decorated in white and yellow. The hallway leads to two bedrooms, and a bathroom decorated with beautiful tiles reminiscent of mermaid scales. Becca falls in love immediately and begs Bucky for a bath. He promises her one that night once they can buy soap and things at the store which seems to appease her for the moment. The bedrooms are both decorated in the same neutral colors as the rest of the house and Bucky thinks it’ll be easy to add a few homey touches to the place to make it feel more like theirs.

Becca throws herself on the twin size bed in the first bedroom announcing it’s the best big girl bed ever. Though she slept well and hasn’t needed a nap in ages, she agrees to lay down for a little while to rest. There’s a small play table and dresser off to the side and Bucky sets her new toys down on the table. He makes Becca promise to come get him right next door if she needs him and gives her a coloring book and box of crayons if she’d rather draw quietly too. Seeing her favorite coloring book from home cheers her up a bit but she still burrows happily under the fluffy comforter. Bucky gives her a quick kiss and heads over to his room at the end of the hall. It’s larger than his bedroom back in Brooklyn and the bed is larger too. He’d been fine with his old full sized mattress but seeing the king sized behemoth has him throwing himself on the bed much like Becca had done in hers. Bucky lets out a groan, this is a real adult bed. The grey duvet is impossibly soft and fluffy and the mattress itself lets him sink into it, unlike the spring mattress he was used to. Bucky is in love with the bed and allows himself a few happy moments to roll around in it.

Eventually, needing to be responsible, Bucky gets up to change out of his clothes and shed the grime and stress from the past day away. He grabs the phone and takes a picture of the bed with it’s now rumpled comforter and shoots an Instagram message to Natalie with the caption “Now THIS is a bed”.

Bucky sets the phone down on the nightstand and takes a minute to enjoy the view from the bedroom window. The view is so different from New York and he knows it’ll take some getting used to. The phone chirps an unfamiliar noise and Bucky sees that Natasha responded already. “Jealous! Enjoy your nap. TTYL.”

Bucky sends back a heart emoji and then sets the phone on the nightstand so he can crawl under the covers into his new bed. It’s been a long 24 hours but at least the hardest part is behind him.

What was meant to be a short nap turns into three hours of Bucky being dead to the world. He wakes up a little after noon to find Becca coloring happily at her play table. She also figured out how to use the remote for the little TV on top of her dresser and turned on the Disney channel quietly in the background. Bucky shakes his head, the little girl is too smart for her own good. “Hey bug.” he calls from the doorway.

“Hi!” Becca’s whole face lights up when she sees him, “Wanna see what I colored?” She holds up her book and Bucky joins her at the tiny table. She couldn’t have been up for very long, she’s only gotten halfway through one Cinderella picture so far, which she proudly shows him she only colored outside the lines once.

Bucky lets her get back to her artwork and wanders down the hall to explore the apartment more. It’s crazy to him that for a third of the rent of his apartment in Brooklyn he has more than twice as much space here. There’s even a backyard down below with a patio area and a fire pit. The apartment has tall, wide windows in every room which let in ample natural light through gauzy curtains. Bucky looks out the kitchen window down at the backyard and wonders what Becca will think of making s’mores. He finds a shopping list note pad and pen on the fridge and starts making a list of things they’ll need to pick up at the store. The kitchen is fully stocked with plates, cups, pots and pans, and miscellaneous cooking and baking supplies. It makes Bucky look forward to whipping up meals, no longer having to rely on the cramped little kitchen with a temperamental stove they had in their old place. The appliances are all shiny steel and new looking, the flat top stove making Bucky grin from ear to ear.

Sitting in the corner of one counter top is a french press with a bag of local coffee and a wrapped loaf of blueberry cake. There’s a little welcome card next to the treats and Bucky plans to thank Anne again when he asks for directions to the grocery store. He wanders down the hall, adding toiletries to the shopping list as well as laundry detergent and dryer sheets when he discovers the hallway closet houses a stacked washer / dryer unit. There isn’t a whole lot more that they’ll need for the time being and Bucky figures if he budgets correctly he should be able to keep them afloat for a little while until he can get a steady paycheck again. That is if Natasha moved all of his money over for him.

Bucky frowns, suddenly worrying that he’s making plans without even checking their financial state. He retrieves his phone and flicks through the screens until he finds a banking app that matches the debit card in his wallet. The app loads and brings him to a home screen that displays four different accounts. Bucky’s head is swimming as he looks at the accounts and numbers. Checking, Savings, College Fund, Car Fund. The college fund has enough to set Becca up at a decent state school or even private school if she can get scholarships. The car fund has enough for a low end new car or nicer used model. Savings has four times what he’d had in savings back home and the checking account contains about what he’d had in savings. Where in the hell did Natasha get all that money?!

Hopping into Instagram, Bucky fires off a message to Natasha loaded with shocked emojis and exclamation points. “I can’t accept all this.” Is the second message.

The three little ellipses pop up almost immediately. “You can, and will. Happy housewarming.”

Bucky frowns and types out, “Where did it come from?”

“Let’s just say some less than savory sources who won’t even miss it.” Natasha sends back.

The frown on Bucky’s face deepens. He wonders how deep Natasha has gotten herself into with this mystery life she’s apparently been leading. He hopes she knows what she’s doing. “I guess I just have to say thanks and trust you.” he finally replies.

Natasha sends back a few grinning emojis and a kiss.

It’s not ideal but Bucky can’t exactly return the money at this point. And living in a more rural area he’ll need a car sooner rather than later. He hasn’t driven in years but it should be just like riding a bike, not something you ever really forget. They still have a full day ahead of them and grocery shopping without a car to haul it all back is going to suck, so Bucky decides that lunch and car shopping can be their first stops.

“Hey Bec… uh….bug.” Bucky quickly corrects himself.

Becca giggles at his slip up. “Yes daddy?” she asks in her sweetest tone, emphasizing that she didn’t slip.

“How about we go find some place for lunch and then run errands?”

“Lunch out?!”

“Yep, lunch out at a restaurant. Come on, let’s go ask Miss Anne where the good food is.”

Becca flies out of her room to put on her shoes, getting both on before Bucky’s even gotten his first boot tied. He scolds her lightly as she bounds down the stairs, sounding more like a herd of elephants than a little girl.

It’s loud enough that Anne comes to the window of her living room to greet them. “All rested up?”

“Much better, yes. Thank you for the cake and coffee, that was really nice.” Bucky says as he tries to keep Becca close despite her best efforts to keep going. “Would you by chance be able to give me some pointers for places to go around here? We need to run errands.”

“Of course, it depends on what you need though.”

“Well, lunch to start. And a car. Then groceries and some basic necessities.”

Anne thinks a moment, “Go down two blocks and make a left, head for the docks. There’s a diner called Jerry’s. Everyone loves it there. For a car your best bet is to catch a taxi over to All Star Service. It’s on the other end of town. Mark takes good care of the cars and he’ll get you set up nicely. If you get a car, or can catch another taxi, head over to the strip mall near there. It’s called Oakwood Plaza and they have a grocery store and a few other little shops where you can find everything you’d need. Otherwise you’ll have to head out of town to the Target over in South Portland.”

Buck is frantically writing all of her advice down on the back of his shopping list, not having expected such a wealth of information but immensely grateful for it. “Thank you, really. It’s going to take a bit for us to get used to where everything’s at.”

“Not a problem, dear. You’ll get acclimated in no time, I’m sure.”

Bucky thanks her again and then finally lets Becca lead him down the sidewalk. He lets her go ahead, a happy bounce in her step, giving her directions when they need to make a turn. The diner comes into view a short distance later and Bucky hopes they end up liking the place since it’s so close by.

A waitress seats them right away in a faded red and white booth. Becca is looking around at the retro decor like she can’t see it all fast enough. Bucky makes small talk with the waitress once she discovers they’re new to town, following her recommendation on some local fare. She doesn’t steer them wrong and both Bucky and Becca are thrilled with their lunches.

“I like it here a LOT.” Becca announces, setting her spoon down into her empty bowl of baked beans. The little dish had been full of beans and cut up hot dogs which had made Becca’s day for some reason. Bucky wasn’t going to question it, it was a hit. His own chowder and Italian sandwich were both delicious and he already plans to come back and try the lobster roll another day. Maybe they can make weekly trips together now that they won’t be scraping by quite as hard as they were.

Bucky mentions needing a car to the waitress and she recommends the same place Anne had, so he pays for a taxi ride across town to see if he can find something. He doesn’t really care too much what he gets as long as it’s reliable and within his budget. Becca doesn’t seem to understand why on earth he needs a car despite him explaining a few times it’s different here than living in a big city. The taxi driver has a good chuckle and offers to wait if they want, just in case they don’t find anything. Bucky thanks the man and tells him he’ll be back in a few minutes to let him know one way or another.

The lot isn’t huge and Bucky moves through the few dozen cars pretty quickly. A dark green Jeep catches his eye and he can’t help but be drawn to it. It was his dream car when he was a teenager. It’s not a difficult decision. The Jeep is only five years old, the mileage is pretty low, and best of all the price leaves a few thousand in that savings account once it’s all said and done. Bucky doesn’t need to think it over so he lets the taxi driver know they’ll be fine and heads off to find the shop owner. He finds the man, Mark, under the hood of an old beat up pick up truck covered in oil but with a wide smile on his face. A quick test drive and a few forms later, Bucky is the proud owner of his first car. It’s a far cry from driving around his parent’s beat up old Lincoln Continental when he was a teenager. Becca is thrilled at the idea and is barely able to sit still as Bucky secures her in the back seat. He realizes his next stop has to be for a car seat, the last thing he needs is to have his new ID tested out by the Cape Elizabeth police.

The strip mall is barely a mile down from the auto shop and thankfully has a thrift shop at the end opposite the grocery store. It’s a huge shop run by the local church and has everything from clothes, to home goods, and toys. Bucky picks up a few new outfits for each of them and finds a gently used booster seat as well. Impulsively he throws in a few toys and books for Becca and some candles and house decorations. With that taken care of, he runs an overly excited Becca through the grocery store, not even bothering to protest when she makes a few special requests. Bucky can’t get over how inexpensive the prices are compared to the city, especially the seafood. He takes note of prices, wanting to be able to budget out their shopping the next time. It’s nice to be able to just shop for what they want for a change, but old habits die hard and he can’t just do that every time.

It’s late afternoon when they get back, arms loaded with bags. Becca insists on carrying some bags upstairs herself and together they get it all in three trips. Bucky lets Becca run off to her room to set up her new toys while he puts away the groceries and sets up the few house decorations he bought. There’s something extremely soothing about getting everything set up to look like a real home. Their home. It’s far nicer than the little apartment they shared in the city and for a bleak moment Bucky wonders if staying in the city after he adopted Becca had been the right call. He pushes the thought out of his head as quickly as it arises, shoving the laundry in the dryer with a little more force than necessary. He had done his best for the both of them, and he would have never managed to get his nursing career started without having Natasha and Clint around to help with childcare.

By dinner time both he and Becca are worn out but they’re fully moved in and the apartment is even starting to feel more homey. Despite his better judgment, Bucky orders them a pizza for dinner. Becca is shocked and Bucky assures her this won’t be an everyday occurrence. They curl up together on the plush sofa after dinner, finding an old movie to watch together until Becca is sleeping peacefully nestled against Bucky’s side. He picks up the little girl, toting her off into her own bed. The room is perfect for her, but Bucky thinks he might want to get her a new bedding set for her birthday in a few months. One that suits her better like the ladybug print one she had in Brooklyn.

Falling into his own, frankly amazing, bed, Bucky wonders how long this adjustment period is going to last. Surely they’ll hit some stumbling blocks as they go, but he hopes they both adapt to their new lives quickly. He wants to just jump forward to the point where their new lives here in Cape Elizabeth feel natural to them as their lives before. He thinks he’ll always miss his name just a little bit, but he can learn to adjust if it means a better, safer, life for Becca. There are certainly a lot of perks to living in a small town even if he’s going to miss his friends desperately. It’s only Steve that he can’t bring himself to think about. The pain is too fresh, too raw. Bucky thinks he could have loved Steve, if he hadn’t already been completely in love with the man already. He’s certain the gripping heartache he feels when he thinks of Steve is being felt by the other man as well. Sleep eludes Bucky until close to midnight, his mind busy between making plans to set up their new lives and trying not to dwell on the too painful thoughts of what they’ve left behind. Despite his best efforts it’s Steve that’s on his mind when he finally drifts off to a restless sleep.

#stucky #stucky fanfic #non winter soldier bucky barnes #captain america steve rogers #shrunkyclunks #steve rogers x bucky barnes #marvel #marvel fanfic #parent!bucky #nurse!bucky #kid!becca barnes

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ajokeformur-ray · 4 years

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Hiii again. I figured that submit option would be easier for this. ^^

I love your matchups, they’re so accurate and thought through.❤️ Can I have one too? My name’s Emily, I have blue hair and blue “husky” eyes, got two tattoos and plan to have more, I’m very pale and I hate people saying things like “you look like a ghost, go get a tan” I usually dress like a witch, but sometimes i doll myself up as a pinup girl to feel pretty.I’m autistic, depressed, have ADHD & ptsd (nice combo, ha?^^) I’m also sarcastic, reserved and have a dark sense of humor.I’m oversensitive to lights and noises. I don’t like being hugged or touched by strangers, but once i get comfortable with someone I transform into their koala.^^ My life is a bit messy, I try to do tasks on time and remember important things, but it’s hard. I have two kids cats, Lilith I found under the bridge and Harold in woods. I’m a big spooky fun, I love horror movies and Halloween. I like drawing (my arts are creepy tho, def not for everyone to see), playing guitar, singing, reading books, running and walking in the woods. I’m interested in psychology & astrophysics and I love when people want me to teach them something. I can’t live without music and my cats. @dont-be-alarmed

Hi, my love! 💙 Thank you so much, I spend a lot of time on matchups and it means a lot that you, one of my favourite writers, find them accurate! I hope this one lives up to your kind words and that you enjoy it! 💜 (I’m happy to redo it if not, angel!) I wanted to give back to you after all you’ve ever done for me and for this community, and so I went on your other blog and scrolled through; I found a post about yourself and Arthur and I’ve tried to incorporate pieces of that in here to make it as… emotionally you as I could. I hope that you don’t mind! 💚

Total word count: 3, 785.

Arthur // wc: 1, 755.

Arthur is… completely in awe of you. You caught his attention due to your bright blue hair; such a vibrant colour in the grimy streets of Gotham which are made up of much the same; grey concrete, grey walls, grey buildings, grey sky, is unusual and eye-catching. Arthur wants to be seen and he admires the courage you possess in having such a hair colour. And your eyes, oh… It’s canon that Arthur likes to touch people’s cheeks and he holds people’s faces in his hands, and when sea green meet your blues, the entire world stops and Arthur can only sink into you; for if eyes are windows to the soul then surely yours is radiant. You’re not afraid to paint the blank canvas which is your body and Arthur likes to trace your tattoos with a careful finger, his lips moving silently as he thinks to himself; he wants to know if there are stories behind them, why you got them, how badly they hurt, what they mean to you… if the mind is an ocean then Arthur wants to dive right into yours and discover your murkiest depths now. But he holds back; he doesn’t want to ruin what he’s building with you, and so every day when he discovers something new does he only fall deeper and deeper in love with you. You’re very pale and people are quick to point it out. If it happens in front of Arthur, he’s quick to frown, “Don’t say things like that to her, Emily’s perfect just as she is!”. He won’t tell people off when they say bad things about him, but about you? He has to stop himself from going feral and he contents himself with snapping at them or, if it’s something which is truly nasty, Arthur gives them such a look it’s like he’s trying to kill them without even touching them. His knees will bounce and he’ll giggle around his cigarette, but he’ll only be concerned for you. Arthur would do anything for you. No matter what you were, Arthur always compliments you sincerely; his voice soft and raspy because he’s barely able to speak through the rising laughing in his throat. Such is the effect you have on him.

You and Arthur have so much in common. Sometimes when you talk to each other, it’s like you’re talking to yourself but you’re hearing it in a different voice. You have shared many experiences and there’s so much about Arthur which exists within yourself; you are both so worthy of love and you are both capable of being loved for exactly who you are, and in the early days first of friendship (though you begin to date quickly, both of you so eager to discover what may exist between you), you mostly bond together over your shared dark sense of humour. Over the weeks which bleed into months, Arthur’s comedy material becomes more tailored to your sense of humour; for what you find funny and making you smile means more to him than anyone else. He could have a crowd at Pogo’s captivated but your smile would be the only one which he has eyes for. The both of you are so tried and tired, so weary and you’ve both been through so much more than people should ever have to go through, but you help each other and you’re there for each other as much as you can be every single day. You’re over sensitive to lights and to noises so when you’re out in public together, Arthur keeps a close eye on you. He learns the signs for when it’s becoming too much and the two of you talk often; late night discussions with dimmed lamps and a turned down volume on the TV, and the two of you learn how to help each other and how to be more open together. It’s a shared journey, this love between you, and it’s once in a lifetime. Neither of you could ever want this with anyone else. Arthur was almost shocked by the difference in you from when he first met you to when you became comfortable with him and all the ways in which you showed affection changed and became more intimate, but he takes it as a compliment. You’re so comfortable with him and he cherishes that information above anything else. He’s just as comfortable with you, and he tries to show you every single day the depths of the love which he holds for you.

Your life is as messy as Arthur’s is busy, but the two of you make it work as best as you can. You do your best to remember important things but it’s hard, and for everything you forget is Arthur there to remind you. Sometimes he has to leave the apartment before you so he’ll leave a quickly scrawled note taped to the front door in big letters so you can see it even from a distance, or he’ll make sure that you’ve got everything ready in the same place, like right next to or on top of your shoes so they can’t be forgotten. Your two kitties, Lilith and Harold, are doted upon by yourself and by Arthur. He had always wanted a pet, someone or something to come home to whom was happy to see him, and now he has three beings who love him: you, Lilith and Harold. The fact that you rescued both of your children shows the true depths of your heart and Arthur’s in awe of you. He adores watching you interact with them. It always makes him coo and the ice in his heart which is left over from the day melts away and then evaporates completely at the touch of your hand and the sound of your voice. You love horror films and Hallowe’en and Arthur loves watching how excited you get when October rolls around! Carving pumpkins together, creating decorations and the jokes just get darker and more morbid… he comes to love the holiday as much as you do, though he’s not as fond of horror films as you are. Life is horrifying enough and if he wants to be scared, he’ll just watch the news - but when you’re more comfortable together and you’re his koala, he likes to cling to you and hide his face in your neck as a way of becoming closer to you. Arthur cherishes the few scant hours he gets with you every night. It’s yours and his favourite time of day and it only makes your daily hardships almost worth it.

You are… extremely creative. Your writing is so descriptive and so vivid, your drawing is beautiful, you can sing, you play an instrument… music runs through your soul just as surely as it does within Arthur, and one night when Arthur was much too shy to tell you that he loved you, he instead said, “you are the music in me”. It’s an admission which, years later, still haunts you in the best way. If you ever let him read what you have written or view what you have created, though he may be creeped out, he would still compliment you sincerely and ask you some questions, wanting to see things through your beautiful blue eyes. If you’re open to the idea, Arthur would love to sit down and listen to you sing and play the guitar; and if you have ever written any songs for him, they would bring tears to his eyes and he would find himself choking down laughter. How can you love him this much? Just as much as you have become more open and kinder to yourself in loving Arthur, so has he because of your love, and the two of you walk hand in hand down the path of life together, leading each other into your better selves; such is the power of love. When you read, Arthur likes to write in his journal and the sounds of his scrawling are the perfect accompaniment to the sounds of your turning the pages of the book you cradle in the palm of your hands as surely as you hold Arthur’s heart in your hands. Though he never asks, Arthur would love to go with you on a walk through the woods. You can see it in his eyes sometimes, how desperately he wants to go with you, but he’s too afraid of rejection and too shy. When you come back from your running, the bathroom is all ready for you to have a shower, there are clean clothes out for you and dinner is ready. Arthur does everything he can to take the best care of you possible; for truly do you deserve nothing less than the best of everything in life.

You’re interested in a variety of subjects and as a way to engage with you, for he so loves the way your eyes and face light up when you’re talking about the things you’re passionate about, Arthur would sit down with you and ask you questions. Even if he doesn’t fully understand what you’re talking about, especially with astrophysics, he still sits and he listens and Arthur engages with you. And if you have a hyperfixation, then he’s right there with you. He validates your interests and wants to know as much as you’re willing to share with him! It’s just another way for him to spend time with you, to get to know you, to tell you that he loves you. You’ve spent many a night talking the time away about your interests and you have so much in common that it’s unsurprising that you feel like you have known each other forever. Music and cats are your life and Arthur protects everything that he knows about you, because you mean the entire world to him and you deserve to know just how much he loves you! No matter where you go, what you do or who you become, Arthur loves you for all of you - he’s learned all the ways to help you through your various struggles, through the things which you go through (including the ones only you know about), and he does everything he can to help you, to love you the way that you deserve to be. Even when he’s so, so tired, the two of you pull each other through life with your joined hands, fingers interlocked… and neither of you will ever let go of the other.

Joker // wc: 2, 030.

By now, you and Joker know each other like the backs of your hands. There isn’t much that you don’t know about each other, though of course is it impossible to ever really know someone in their entirety, so every day do you discover something new about one another which only makes you fall deeper in love with each other. Even though you know each other so well, Joker still finds himself wanting to completely dive into who you are to find out everything all at once; to view the tapestry of your life in its entirety without having to wait for the discovery of something else. He loves you so much it hurts him in the best way. Your name is Joker’s favourite word and he sometimes catches himself whispering it when he needs some extra strength or a reason to slow the rage in his veins, which threatens to poison his heart and turn his soul away from the goodness which still exists in his very core, unchanged is he deep inside himself where he is safest. You were there with Arthur through it all and you only loved him more as the man he was now. With your bright blue hair and Joker’s electric green hair, the two of you catch people’s attention when you’re out in public; Gothamites aren’t known for their courageous self expression, so wearied and beaten are they by the soulless and relentless demands of the city. The two of you like to redye your hair together; even if Joker’s hair has faded back into his naturally dark curls, he will wait for you to need to redye your hair. Joker dyes your hair and you dye his and the flecks of blue and green blend and merge together in the bathroom sink; Joker likes to get messy so green runs all down his back and pools into the waistband of his baggy underwear, and he ends up making more mess than you do. Joker adores your tattoos and he knows the reasons and stories behind them as well as you do and he gets excited when you talk about having more. Joker’s less forgiving now when people make comments about how pale you are, and he’s not afraid to narrow his eyes, his nostrils flaring slightly in anger, and fire back a few well-timed insults of his own. Whether you dress like a witch or as a pinup girl, Joker is in awe of you and sometimes he literally chokes on air because he’s just so stunned by you and all that you are; you’re so beautiful inside and out and he just can’t believe, even now, how lucky he is to be loved by you.

Just because Joker gave up on his own mental health - he stopped taking his medications, he stopped taking care of himself and he stopped caring - it didn’t mean that he would ever allow you to do the same. Joker wanted nothing but the best for you and he would do anything he could for you. This, combined with the fact that Joker knows exactly how to support you and how to look after you when you need to be loved extra hard. Both of you are worthy of being loved for exactly who you are, and when you feel like you’re unwanted and not capable of being loved, Joker cradles you on his lap - your favourite seat - and tucks your head into his chest, his heartbeat pounding in your ear to ground you and to calm you. He knows how to hold you, how to talk to you, how to comfort you, and he even knows how to ground himself and also you in the same touches. If anyone understands you and what you go through every single day, it’s Arthur, and that’s never been and would never be any different. You’re sarcastic and Joker enjoys playful banter between the two of you. He knows when you’re being sarcastic because you’re having fun and when you’re being sarcastic because your mood is low, but either way will Joker snap back. He enjoys swapping comments with you if that’s something you like to do, and by now his dark humour is perfectly tailored to your own. Of all the citizens in Gotham, your smile is the only one which matters and your laughter is the only one Joker closes his eyes to fully savour. You are Joker’s koala now and he loves every touch which you gift him with. Coming home to you is the absolute favourite part of Joker’s every day and sometimes he stays away for just a little longer so that he can get an extra enthusiastic hug or some clingy touches. You’re over sensitive to lights and noises and Joker is used to keeping the TV on a certain volume and to buying a certain type of light bulb so that the lamps are always dim enough for you. You are always Joker’s main priority and that will never be any different. You’re his entire world and when he cups your face in his hands to kiss you, he likes to say, “I’ve got the whole world in my hands, Emily. Look after it for me, okay?”. The first time you did it back to him, he almost sobbed with love for you even as he nodded and said, “mm-hm”. The sound was smug even with how overwhelmed he was in that moment and your stomach swooped; as again did you only love him more.

Your life is still a bit messy but oh, you do your best. Joker knows better than anybody how it can feel to do your best and to still feel like you’re not doing enough, like you’re not trying enough, like you’re not good enough for all of the demands and responsibilities which are daily placed on you without reprieve or without a break, and he continues to do everything he can to help you, to be there for you and to support you. He leaves notes lying around to help you remember to do things, to not forget things, and if ever you do forget something, Joker’s there to do it for you. There is only ever love in the things he does. Looking after you and being there for you and loving you is the reason Joker does what he does, the reason he tries every single day to reconnect with the man you first fell in love with. Oh, but he was still that man; he had only stopped caring, he had only succumbed to all that was making him numb, and every day did you love him just as fiercely and just as strongly as you always had. Your two cats are spoiled rotten by the both of you; Joker still loves to watch you interact with them and when chaos is shut away, when his suit is hung up and his face is washed, Joker likes to sit on the sofa with you to watch the news with your children around you; his fingers in their fur or in your hair, and the two of you talk quietly. About your days, about the things you need to do tomorrow, how you have been feeling... the evenings are ticked away in this way, with the two of you indulging only in each other. You love horror films and Hallowe’en and still does Joker love how excited you get! He joins in with you now with the celebration and the decorations, but instead of hiding within you now while you watch horror films, scared did he used to be, he now watches you with them and cracks dark jokes. In one film, the screaming victim got decapitated and Joker snorted and said, “Talk about losing your head when it gets crazy out there”. It’s up to you if you join in with him but if you do, he will turn to the side to give you his attention, only just watching whatever is on the old and grainy screen. He loves to cuddle with you and if you ever get scared of the things you watch, Joker assumes the protective role as he cuddles you. “Nothing’s going to hurt you, Emily. Joker’s here.”. He would die for you, kill for you... you’re his entire world and he loves you with everything that he is, everything that he has.

You are very creative and to this day, Joker is still in awe of everything that you’re able to do. Your writing is so beautiful and everything that you create is beautiful. Your arts are creepy but Joker’s not creeped out by them anymore. Long ago did he stare into the abyss and see it staring back, so what used to negatively affect him rarely does now. “Awh, that’s sweet.” // “Joker, it’s - there’s blood all over the - “ // “Yeah,” He shrugs, “But it’s sweet in a morbid way, you know?” You thought you did, but you weren’t entirely sure. Either way, you were just glad that he liked your arts. His support meant the world to you. You have an entire playlist of songs you would like to play for Joker, and when you ask if you can play for him, Joker beams and practically runs across the room to sit down for you, running a hand through those dyed green curls which bounce gently against the tops of his shoulders as he does so. Joker is transfixed by the way you play the guitar; your hands are one of his favourite parts of you because they create pure magic every single day. You love to read and when you do, Joker tends to read through his old journal. It’s a quiet time for the both of you and it’s most likely that Joker will want to cuddle with you while you do these things; so that you can spend time together... separately. Occasionally, Joker might read a joke out loud; they’ll be dark jokes, ones which make you laugh because you know not how else to react, and he’ll soak in your response. Don’t fake your laughter, though, Joker will notice and he won’t appreciate that. By now, he’s used to your routine when it comes to running and walking in the woods, so he doesn’t ask if he can go with you - he’ll know if you want him to join you by the way you said goodbye to him. If you linger near him, he’ll know that you want him to join you; but if you’re quickly out of the door, then he knows he should stay. When you come home, everything is ready for you to get clean and comfortable; for Joker will always do what he can to look after you, no matter what!

On the nights when everything he’s ever said and done catches up to him, or when the world is just too loud and you need everything and everyone to go away, the two of you hole up in the bedroom. If Joker is the one who needs comforting, then you’re the one who reads to him or tells him about anything you’re currently hyperfixated on or curious about, but if you’re the one who needs comforting then Joker reads from his old journal or reads your current book to you. You can’t live without music or your cats and that’s precisely why Joker protects everything that you hold most dear to you, and that includes his own self. The both of you are so similar in so many ways and you have both shared many of the same experiences. You have so much love between you, so much need to be seen, known and loved, and you both have a dark sense of humour. You’re both strong and brave, creative and so full of love, and no matter what happens or who you both become, you will fall together again and again... and again. You’re soulmates and you’re truly meant to be, and that’s all that matters. Arthur Fleck loves you for all of you, through every rise and fall!

#arthur fleck #arthur fleck matchup #joker #joker matchup #submission

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poignantpulchritude · 4 years

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Silly Pleasures-Chapter 3

“No, no, no we are not wearing just blue jeans and lip balm to Paradise tonight, go back to your room!”

“C’mon, it’ll be dark, no one will see.”

“But I will see. It’s the principal of the thing Jeanne,” Molly responded, sounding much more like a disappointed mother than friend and flat mate.

“Then you need to help me because I think you’ll hate anything I’d come down in.”

“Fine, gimme a few,” Molly spoke as she curled the last few strands of her golden hair.

I trudged my way back to my room, there were already clothes strewn all over the floor, making it difficult to walk. I plopped down on my bed, laying in down until my body was directly in the center. Clubs were not usually my scene, I much preferred a grimy pub because I liked talking, not really dancing, when drunk. No one ever talked at clubs, words were replaced by groping and bad remixes of passable songs. The saving grace for tonight was that we were going to have a table in the VIP section, which meant less interaction with overly friendly guys that felt they were God’s gift to women’s vaginas.

Molly sauntered into my room and headed straight for my closet. I lifted my head off the bed to watch her rummage through the mess I created. It took a few minutes as more clothes were thrown onto my floor until Molly finally made a triumphant sound and pulled out a small pink dress I was sent by one of my regulars. It was a bright, neon pink mini dress with sheer pink long sleeves. The dress had never seen the light of day since it arrived in the post since, I don’t spend much of my free time strutting around in expensive party dresses.

“Hmmm, I don’t know Molls, it’s pretty bright.”

“It’s fabulous, I know someone sent it to you because everything else you own is so dull. You absolutely have to wear it!”

“I don’t even know if it fits,” I groaned, falling back into my fluffy duvet.

It fit.

In reality, it actually looked quite nice. I mostly only dressed up in expensive lingerie while online and that covered very little of my body, if any of it. I tried to be annoyed that it was a dress, but found it hard to give reasons why I should not wear it.

“Okay fine,” I conceded with a smirk. Molly squealed and did a small hop in the air.

“You look like Dua Lipa with a fatter bum, it’s amazing!”

I giggled to myself and could not hide the smile. The dress was short enough to show of my large thigh tattoo of Medusa, but not too short that I felt my thong was on show. I paired the look with white, patent leather boots, looking a bit like it was 1980 and I was coming out of Studio 54.

With my makeup and hair complete, I headed downstairs at the exact moment a knock came on our door. I headed down the hall and opened the door to see Rosie and Amber looking dashing in tight black dresses and thigh high boots. It seemed at time that they wanted to look like twins the amount of times they would dress the same. When turned my way, their jaws dropped.

“What the fuck J, you look hot!”

“-Jesus, let’s make out tonight!”

I shut up both of their ramblings with quick hugs and invited them inside. The plan was to meet up at me and Molly’s place and then meet Keith at Paradise. Paradise was in the heart of Soho and even though we were not too far away, we collectively agreed we would walk as little as possible tonight. As we walked back to the kitchen, Molly was descending the stairs in a bright blue jumpsuit that made everyone in the room drool.

“To getting fucked!” Amber exclaimed as we all held tequila shots in the air.

“Wait literally or figuratively?” Rosie asked.

“Doesn’t matter!” Molly said at the same time I yelled, “Both!”

As the shot burned down my throat, I relished the warmth that would no doubt lead to an exciting night.

“Gahhhh that’s dreadful,” Molly gagged.

The line outside of Paradise was ridiculous. It hadn’t been open very long and the crowds had yet to die down. We spotted Keith on his phone, standing right by the front door. “Oh, my god, I was so nervous I thought for a minute you would ditch me,” he said sheepishly.

“What the fuck?” I asked rhetorically, in a confused manner.

“When have we ever ditched you?” Molly questioned, amused at his anxiety.

“God, I don’t know, never mind. I just learned that Matt is supposed to be here so every second I was alone I started feeling terrible.” I gave him a soft look in response. Matt was Keith’s ex-boyfriend, a man that completely ripped his heart to shreds yet he had not been able to completely get over him.

“Don’t worry, you probably won’t see him anyway,” Rosie assured him. Keith did not look convinced, but brushed it off and led us to the doors. It only took a few seconds to check for his name on the list and we were let in, skipping at least eighty people waiting in line.

I hated to give clubs too much credit, but Paradise looked impressive inside. The walls were a jungle print wallpaper with low yellow lights along the sides. The VIP section was located along the sides of the room, surrounding the main dance floor with its own bars behind it. All of the people dancing in the center of the floor helped explain the long line outside. This place was filled to capacity and it was still early in the night. We were led to our VIP booth and greeted by an almost nude girl with sparklers next to a bottle of champagne and vodka.

“Oh yes!” Amber screamed. We all looked at the bottle girl in awe, seeing her as the female Hermes with alcohol as the only message to deliver. Behind her appeared another man carrying a large bucket of ice that contained glasses and mixers. Our entire group was in, well, paradise.

“This may end up being one of the best nights of my life,” I spoke, or more accurately- yelled, in Keith’s ear. He just smiled, appearing to finally brush off his nervousness surrounding Matt.

Eventually, with the champagne popped and the bottles flowing, we noticed the VIP section start to fill with a very particular crowd.

“Molly!” Rosie shouted, “Is that fucking Alexa Chung?” Skipping subtlety, she pointed directly at the slim brunette a few tables over.

“Oh, my god, what is happening,” I heard Molly respond. Looking around, I noticed more and more people with jarring numbers of Instagram followers enter the VIP section.

“Just think, you may be able to get expensive dick tonight!” Keith hollered and I cackled loudly in response and agreement.

Instead of focusing too much on the people entering, myself and Amber were making increasingly more vile drinks that we convinced ourselves tasted good. Amber, getting considerably more drunk as time passed, pulled me out of our booth and to the small section of floor directly in front of our booth that was still blocked off from the general public. My own tipsiness spurring on the decision to dance wildly.

“I love this song!” she screamed in my ear as a throwback 2000s song played to the crowd’s delight. We danced and jumped in circles until we couldn’t anymore. Along with our absurd dancing, we also decided to shout the lyrics, trying to be louder than the speakers. Molly quickly joined us, leaving Rosie and Keith to have an animated conversation back at our booth.

I could tell I was slowly getting to the point of drunk, right at that sweet spot when everything was pleasant and bright. I always had to pee at these points. “Come with me to pee!” I said to Molly and Amber, very excited to check out the Paradise bathroom. Before they could properly respond, I grabbed both of their hands and dragged them to toilets in the back corner. I was so excited, I was not watching where I was walking and ended up bumping into a tall guy’s shoulder. “Sorry!” I exclaimed with a giggle, ripping my hands free from Molly and Amber and instead placed one hand on his silk shirt by his shoulder and the other on his check. “Sorry!” I yelled again with a smile, looking intently into his green eyes that looked vaguely familiar. I did not have time to get a better look at his face because my bladder took control of my body and I was suddenly done with our little interaction. I heard a surprised, happy laugh behind me as we all walked away.

The line for the toilets was short enough that we were actually waiting right outside the stalls by the mirrors. I love mirrors and couldn’t help myself as I walked over and whipped out my phone to catch a good angle.

“Whoa, whoa J. Did you know who that just was?” Amber said, incredibly eager. Molly looked in shock and it was clear that I missed something very big.

“Who? The girl with the nice boots we just walked past?” I asked genuinely confused. Before Amber could respond a stall emptied and I quickly ran inside, dragging Amber and Molly with me. They were both having a quite an animated conversation above me as I peed, but the floor was spinning a bit too much for me to care. I knew I had only one drink left in me before I was done for the night, so it had to be a good one.

“I’m going to get a Moscow Mule!” I declared when I finished peeing.

“But we have free alcohol at the table,” Molly said firmly. She seemed the most put together of the bunch, but I knew I was deceived, having learned over time that the more serious she appeared the drunker she actually was. I just shrugged, smiled, and walked out of the stall without waiting for them to pee. When I was drunk and on a mission, nothing else mattered.

I made my way steadily to the bar in the back, making sure not to run into anymore moving bodies. This bar was packed considering it was in the noticeably calmer section of the club. I squeezed my way in between groups of people, maneuvering between flirting guys and annoyed girls, ending up in snuggled between the shoulders of two men. The one on the right had a crisp white button up while the one on the left had an odd silk shirt with tigers all over it. I remembered it as the shirt I bumped into moments ago. Before I could yell in his ear that I apparently knew him, someone jostled me from behind. This knocked me further forward in between the two men, alerting them to my intrusive presence.

I was met once again by green eyes, but this time I did get the chance to look at him more. He was at taller than me, with brown hair pushed in all directions over his head. As I examined his face more, I noticed the corners of his mouth turn upwards revealing a prominent dimple. It took me a moment to realize he may have been smiling because I was staring so intently at his lips.

“I know you!” he spoke happily in a deep, English accent. This brought me out of my analysis of his lips to actually pay attention to what he was saying.

“I just ran into you!” I yelled.

“I did it first,” he smiled. I was not sure what he meant by that statement, but before I could question it his friend spoke.

“Hello lovely, do we know each other?”

I turned to look at his friend and detected immediately that it was the man I listened to every morning on my way to class. “Ah!” I shouted and Nick Grimshaw grimaced at my noise, “I know you, but you don’t know me. You’re on the radio and friends with Matty Healy!”

He gave his friend an amused look and responded, “That I am, do you know who that is?” he questioned, pointing back at silk shirt boy.

“Yea, he’s the boy I bumped into on the way to pee, we’re friends now,” I affirmed proudly. I heard them both laugh at my words, but I was not paying much attention anymore as the bartender came by us and I yelled quickly, “A Moscow Mule please and thanks!”

I had my body pressed quite closely to silk shirt boy, with my hand resting on the bar, ready to take my drink when it arrived. “I like your dress,” he spoke from above. I just looked up and smiled before raising both arms over my head in an excited movement, showing off my sleeves.

“Thanks! My friend gave it to me.” I’m not sure if I would really consider the client that sent me the dress much of a friend, but I thought explaining in this state would be too much trouble.

His eyes went to my left forearm when I lifted my arms above my head. Green eyes widened at the tattoo before him, a large snake cut into eighths with the words ‘Join or Die’ etched below it. “Wow this is amazing, may I?” he asked, suggesting a closer look.

I obliged and pulled up my left sleeve so he could get a clearer view without the sheer pink material over it. “It’s obnoxiously American of me,” I informed him giggling from the alcohol. He gave me a confused look before I continued, “It’s a Benjamin Franklin cartoon about the Revolutionary War. This is probably a tough crowd to show it off in.” I’m not sure how many Englishmen wanted to be reminded of their lost colony.

“That’s sick,” he responded enthusiastically, gently tracing his finger along the edges of the snake, causing my arm to break out in goosebumps.

“Moscow Mule, twelve pounds.”

The bartender broke me from my trance as I used the hand that was being examined to rip out my credit card from my bra. I heard Nick laugh loudly at the action. “What, it’s the safest place for a girl to carry her delicates. I have everything in here.” Nick and his friend both gave me skeptical looks, urging my innate need to prove myself to come to a head. I then proceeded to whip out two Advil, forty pounds, my ID, and three condoms from my bra.

“Why do you need three of them?” Nick asked, referencing the condoms.

“Because you never know what could happen,” I shrugged, looking up at the silk shirt boy boldly. He raised his eyebrows and looked straight back into my eyes. I felt a small tap on the arm resting on the bar and saw the bartender handing me back my card. I quickly collected everything I pulled out my bra and returned it to its proper position, ready to take my Moscow Mule and head back to my group when a tattooed hand stopped me again.

“What’s your name?” Silk shirt boy asked.

“You tell me yours first.”

“Harry.” I just nodded, smiling. “Now yours?”

I smirked and went up on my tip toes in my white boots, steading myself on his chest again, and whispered in his ear, “Wouldn’t you like to know.” I heard his breath hitch when my lips grazed his ear. I pulled away, smirked one last time, and then walked back into the crowd, daring myself to not glance back. Rosie saw me giggling with my straw caught between my teeth as I returned to our group.

“You’ve been gone for a year, where were you lot?” Keith asked as Molly and Amber came up behind me, followed by two boys.

“We need to go,” Amber smirked, motioning to the boy behind her, her conquest for the night. Everyone agreed except me, refusing to accept that my night was coming to an end since I just got my favorite drink.

“Down it and we are going,” Molly giggled. I saw the boy behind her slowly rubbing the sides of her hips, eager to leave as well.

“How did you get them so quick?” I asked in her ear. “I was at the bar for maybe ten minutes.”

She shrugged, “We work fast.”

It took me a minute to down my drink. It would have been quicker if it was not so strong. I could tell that drink was a bad move the second the last drop went down my throat. I was holding hands with Keith as we made our way out of the club and back into reality. As we exited, we were faced with hordes of flashing lights. Paparazzi no doubt hoping we were people of notoriety considering the celebrities in attendance tonight. This thought prompted me to blurt out, “Oh, guess who I met tonight!” speaking to no one in particular.

“You mean the popstar?” Molly’s head ripped around quick. I gave her a puzzled look, knowing full well that Nick Grimshaw did not sing any songs I was aware of.

“Only you would not notice a former member of One Direction even though you caressed his bloody face,” Amber said behind me. I stopped moving, beginning to feel bile rise in my throat. I was unclear if I was going to get sick because of the alcohol or the new information I was slowly processing.

“What?” Keith yelled looking at me, “Who did you meet?”

I ripped myself from his arms and ran to the closest pile of trash away from the paparazzi and threw up. I heard the sympathetic voices of my friends behind me, but I could only think of one thing. I just blew off Harry fucking Styles.

#harry styles fanfiction #Harry Styles #one direction fanfiction #one direction #silly pleasures #chapter 3

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fantastic-fantasy-fanfics · 5 years

Text

HOME FOR THE HOLIDAYS

link to the sing is HERE

A/N: a little pick-me-up before the weekend

Sam Wilson x reader

Word count: 1590

Summary: For some reason, a mission was scheduled over Christmas, leaving you and Sam separated for the holidays

Warnings: lots of swearing

Oh, there's no place like home for the holidays

'Cause no matter how far away you roam

When you pine for the sunshine of a friendly gaze

For the holidays you can't beat home sweet home!

Why did Fury have to do this to him? Well, everyone on the mission was pissed, but especially Sam. Who the hell PLANS a mission that extends over Christmas? Instead of being cuddled up on the couch watching Christmas movies with his girl or thrift shopping for quirky white elephant gifts with his friends, Sam was stuck in the middle of northern Canada.

“Pass me another blanket?” Bucky shivered, trying to turn up the shifty motel’s crappy heater. That poor machine was running the best it could and still the heat it was cranking out was barely enough to make the room above freezing temperature.

“There are only three blankets and you already have two of them,” Sam sassed, struggling to open the pack of Oreos he’d purchased at the gas station. Damn things froze in the car! They were solid as a rock! “And there’s no way in hell I’m giving mine up,”.

Steve rolled his eyes, opening the multiple cans of soup they bought and dumping them into a large bowl. “Ladies, calm down! I don’t want to get kicked out of the only shelter we have right now because of your yelling,” he grumbled, covering the bowl with a paper towel and putting it in the grimy microwave.

I met a man who lives in Tennessee, and he was headin' for

Pennsylvania and some homemade pumpkin pie

From Pennsylvania folks are travellin'

Down to Dixie's sunny shore

From Atlantic to Pacific

Gee the traffic is terrific!

Steve handed everyone a mug of hot soup. Unfortunately, they didn’t have spoons so they had to drink their soup like unemployed college students. It was inconvenient, they weren’t about to complain about a hot meal. “Eat up,” Steve hummed, sitting by his friends on the floor, which was, by far, much cleaner than the beds.

Sam grinned up at him, thanking him briefly. “Here Cap, take this,” he said, giving Steve his blanket, “that suit isn’t enough to keep you warm,”.

“Aw, Sam, you don’t have to do that, you need it more than I do,” Steve said, pushing the quilt back into Sam’s clenched fist.

“Take it, I’ll be okay,” he insisted, “if winter boo bear over here won’t share, then I will,”. He chuckled a bit, glaring over at Buck, who had bundled himself up like a little homeless lady.

“Hey! Part of my body is fucking metal! I’M COLD,” Bucky defended, wrapping himself up tighter into the blanket nest.

“So Fury says we’ll be stuck here longer than he thought… we might not be back until the new year,” Steve sighed, knowing neither of his teammates would like it.

“What? C’mon, man, I promised (Y/N) I’d be back before then!” Sam groaned, “I’ve been gone since the beginning of the month! She’s had to spend this whole holiday season alone,”.

“I know, Sam, I know…” Steve nodded, trying to keep him calm, “it’s less than ideal, we all have people at home we’d rather be with than out in… the arctic,”.

Sam just scowled at Steve, sick of him and Fury’s bullshit. “Nah man, I ain’t taking this! (Y/N) and I had this whole Christmas planned!” he ranted, nearly spilling his already cold soup, “instead of sneaking slices of rum cake when she’s not looking or hiding mistletoe around the apartment, I’m stuck here, with two other dudes, one of whom I’m pretty sure has fleas!”.

Bucky punched Sam’s arm with his metal one. Damn, that vibranium really was cold!

Oh, there's no place like home for the holidays

'Cause no matter how far away you roam

If you want to be happy in a million ways

For the holidays you can't beat home sweet home!

Sam’s phone buzzed in his pocket, waking him up from his uncomfortable sleep. He was still freezing his tail feathers off (that joke was not as funny as Bucky thought it was when he said it) but the heater seemed to be working better. He groaned, cracking his stiff back before answering the facetime call. “Hello?” he groaned, yawning.

“Hi baby,” you greeted, smiling at him.

Sam immediately perked up at the sound of your voice. He got up and jogged to the bathroom so he could turn on lights and talk to you in private. “Hey sugar, how’s my girl doin’?” he smiled, eyes shining at you.

“Lonely without you,” you replied, “how’s Canada?”.

“Fucking freezing,” he scoffed, “and Barnes keeps hogging blankets,”.

“Oh, I know how you feel. That’s what Wanda did on our last mission to Russia,” you hummed, getting more comfortable on the couch, “I heard Fury is pushing back the return date,”.

“Yeah….” he sighed, “it sucks, but I guess that’s what being an Avenger means; long work hours,”.

You grinned, laughing half-heartedly. “I’m trying my best on my end to get you guys home,” you said, hoping that’d make him feel better.

“Eh, good luck with that, Fury's as stubborn as they come,” he sighed, “so what have you been up to? I hope you’re still having fun, despite all this,”.

“I am,” you nodded, getting up to show him the pumpkin spice cake you made, flipping the camera. “I made a lot of goodies! Chocolate chip cookies, peanut butter bars,” you listed, padding to the kitchen, “and a spice c- HEY!”. You caught Wanda and Nat stealing treats. You shooed them away as they slunk off like raccoons with their plates and mouths full.

Sam laughed at the scene the camera was capturing. “I see the ladies have taken over for me while I’m away,” he chuckled, “there better be sweets for me when I get back!”

“Oh there will be,” you grinned, putting a lid over the cake to keep it safe, “and a few presents, and a clean bed, and a hot shower, and a big blanket that you don’t have to share,”.

“That sounds so good right now,” he sighed, closing his eyes, fantasizing about coming home, “damn I can’t wa-”

“SAM! SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Bucky groaned from his blanket cocoon by the heater, his voice muffled by the various noises in the hotel room, “THE BATHROOM ECHOES!”.

Sam rolled his eyes. “I’ll talk to you later baby, okay?” Sam whispered, catching the kiss you blew to him through the phone, “love you,”.

“Love you more,” you grinned, hanging up.

I met a man who lives in Tennessee and he was headin' for

Pennsylvania and some homemade pumpkin pie

From Pennsylvania folks are travellin'

Down to Dixie's sunny shore

From Atlantic to Pacific

Gee the traffic is terrific!

Sam plopped down into the car, very ready to fall asleep. “Do we have to go back to the motel? I’m pretty sure sleeping in here would be more hygenic,” he sighed, taking off his goggles, the eyewear having left uncomfortable imprints on his skin.

Not that the car was too much better. It was an old, rented van from a sketchy rental place. Steve advocated for a smaller, but newer minivan, but Fury insisted that this would be less inconspicuous.

“Actually, yes, We do have to go back,” Steve hummed proudly, “Fury said there were extra supplies dropped off for us,”.

Bucky and Sam let out a tired ‘woo’. “Does that include a space heater?” Buck asked, taking his boots off, “or better mattresses?”.

Steve smirked, feeling truly proud of himself. “Well, my ‘nagging’ worked, and we’re now staying in Holiday Inn,” he answered, “clean beds, free breakfast, and functioning showers,”.

The other men let out a more enthusiastic ‘woo’ this time, somewhat surprised that Fury caved. Normally he’d tell Steve to, “shut up and quit your bitching,”.

Oh, there's no place like home for the holidays

'Cause no matter how far away you roam

If you want to be happy in a million ways

For the holidays you can't beat home sweet home!

The boys walked into the hotel, smiling as the heated air warmed up their cold bodies, the snow clinging to their uniforms melting away. “Much better,” Bucky grinned, flopping face down onto the clean couch in the little sitting area.

“Who wants dinner? There’s plenty here!” Steve cheered, opening the fully stocked fridge, “ooh, even spice cake!”.

Sam paused for a minute. “Spice cake?” he thought to himself, “Steve I don’t think it was you who convinced Fury to send us here,”.

Steve raised a quizzical brow. “Well it certainly wasn’t Buck,” he said, throwing an apple at the sleeping assassin’s head.

Peeking your head out of the closet, you surprised the boys by shouting, “MERRY FUCKIN’ CHRISTMAS!”. Buck was so surprised he fell off the couch with a hardy, "oof,".

“(Y/N)?” Sam greeted, giving you a big hug and kiss, “you did all this?". You nodded. "How… how did you pull it off? How did you convince Fury?”.

“I didn’t. Natasha just took over the mission and I convinced her,” you grinned, snuggling into Sam’s side, “figured I’d pay a visit as well…”.

“But-” Sam stammered, confused, “why not stay home? Or shorten the mission?”.

“As much as I hate to admit it, Fury is right, there is a lot of work to be done here,” you sighed, squeezing his hand, “and I am home. I’m with you,”.

__________________

TAGLIST

#sam wilson #falcon #sam x reader #sam wilson x reader #aryschristmaswritingspree #arys christmas writing spree #fantastic-fantasy-fanfics

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reddeadmort · 5 years

Note

I think your writing is great! Could I request something where ArthurxFreader have been together for a while but kept it secret from the gang & Micah keeps creeping around her even though she’s clearly not interested & the gang can see that she’s getting uncomfortable & try warning him away but he won’t listen. Arthur’s listening from the side & can’t take it anymore so he kisses her in front of everyone & threatens Micah to stay away from his WIFE & everyone is like ‘wait what?! Wife?!’

You’re too kind :D Lovethis request, oozing with fluff. I hope I’ve done it justice!

Arthur Morgan x F Reader |Paired up

Guidance: Fluffy fluff,with some minor violence and swearing.

Words: 1.6k

You certainly hadn’t planned on starting a relationship with Arthur. An outlaw gang was no place for a solid, healthy relationship; too much danger, too much uncertainty. A bit of fun here and there, sure; when the nights were cold, or the drink was flowing, or you just needed a bit of de-stressing. You had fun harmlessly flirting with the others in the gang; Sean was always a laugh, and you enjoyed hearing Javier slip Spanish words into his responses. You sure as hell didn’t understand them but knew they were probably rude. You even flirted a bit with the girls, just for fun; though given the way Abigail looked at you when you laid it on thick towards her, you were sure one of these days she’d invite you to follow through. Unfortunately, one time you’d made the mistake of saying something flirty to Micah without realising it was him you were talking to, and since then he wouldn’t leave you alone.

It was at the big party the gang had at horseshoe overlook when you’d realised that you only had eyes for Arthur. You and him had spent a few nights together out in the wilderness on hunting trips; he was gentle, and far more attentive than any other man you’d been with. But still, you were both part of a gang; you’d both been hurt before, rejected because of your situation, neither feeling deserving of another’s devotion. You shouldn’t, couldn’t, commit.

Yet, there you’d ended up, stood in the nicest dress you’d ever owned (let alone bought) with Arthur’s hands in yours in front of a clergyman. It was a shame none of the others had been there with you, but you’d both agreed that it was best to keep your relationship a secret. You knew that as soon as the others found out, you’d be viewed more as Arthur’s companion, and less of a gang member in your own right. Neither of you wanted that; you were excellent at your jobs, and as much as Arthur worried about you, he wouldn’t stand to see you demoted to a more subservient position in the camp. You hoped it wouldn’t be like that, but Dutch was becoming more unpredictable, and there was just no knowing how he’d react to his top enforcer being in a relationship. You’d already noticed Arthur seemed to be taking fewer risks and were sure it wouldn’t be long before the others noticed too.

That night, in the room above the saloon, had been wonderful. For a while, you could pretend that you both had normal lives, with a proper home waiting for you. The weeks since then had been tough, and you were pretty sure some of the other girls suspected something. You and Arthur were only able to snatch brief moments together at the camp; hotels and overnight camping trips were the only time you got to be properly alone and hold each other. You’d dialled down the flirting with the other gang members; just enough to not arouse suspicion that anything had changed, but not so much or so bad that Arthur got jealous.

But Micah just wouldn’t let up. He was obsessed; no matter how many times you told him to shut his goddamn mouth, he still kept loudly describing the things he’d like to do to you, watching as it made you squirm. It had gotten so bad, even the others were calling him out on it; they knew you could take care of yourself, but seeing you grimace when he spoke to you made them uncomfortable. You had no idea how Arthur was holding it together. He tried to not be too vocal about in his disagreements with Micah, he didn’t want to give the game away. After a particularly bad evening with Micah being exceptionally lecherous to the girls, including you, Arthur had stomped away from the fire; you were sure you’d heard a thud from the woods and some muffled swearing. Arthur had re-appeared and headed for his tent, rubbing his knuckles and you’d managed to slip away to him. You’d laughed as you gently kissed his knuckles and Arthur explained to you that that particular tree certainly wouldn’t be bothering you anymore.

A week or so after the tree incident, it was once again party time at the camp. Pretty much the whole group had pulled off a brilliant train robbery; the driver had been so distracted by Karen’s low-cut top he hadn’t noticed you and the butt of your gun hurtling towards the back of his head.

You were all sat around the fire, on benches and at tables, drinking, singing and relaxing. You weren’t too sure where Arthur was, and you didn’t dare ask lest you receive some nudges and knowing winks from Mary-Beth; the girl shared a tent with you, and wasn’t stupid. She must have noticed you slipping out in the middle of the night more and more recently.

Despite all the merriment, you were in a bit of a foul mood. You and Arthur had gone on an overnight ‘hunting’ trip two days prior, only for Charles to ask to come along. You had no good reason to deny him, so had to accept. It hadn’t been a bad trip – it was certainly more successful than normal, as you spent much more time hunting – you enjoyed Charles’ company. But you had been craving that closeness with Arthur, being able to snuggle up into his chest and fall asleep in his arms.

Much to your annoyance, that evening Micah had managed to take the seat next to you. You were nodding along as Javier told another bounty hunting story; he’d managed to hogtie his target, only to have them start hopping away. They’d hopped head first into a tree, knocking themselves out, while Javier had just watched in bewildered silence.

Despite your mood, you laughed, hard; that was a mental image that was going to stay with you for a while.

“I bet ya’d like that, wouldn’t ya” You shuddered as Micah slurred into your ear. “Bein’ all tied up….. I want to watch ya try and escape from me.” Micah’s grimy hand went to your face, but you slapped it away.

“Micah, don’t you dare.” You stood up, eager to get away from the drunken fool.

Micah stood up and grabbed your arm as you turned away, his dirty fingernails digging into your skin, and yanked you back round.

“Micah, I told you, don’t fucking touch me.” You slammed your free arm down on his, breaking his grasp. You tried to step away but Micah grabbed you again by the chin, causing you to wince in pain as he gripped your jaw hard.

“Now that’s a dirty mouth girly” he snarled. “The things I would do with that….”

Micah’s sentence was left unfinished as Arthur grabbed him by the throat and slammed him into the ground. You’d had no idea he was even nearby; you’d seen Sean run off out of the corner of your eye when Micah started getting too close - he must have gone to find Arthur. Sean was happy to try and help out when he could, but when Micah was like this – a bit too drunk, a bit too rowdy – he knew Arthur was one of the only ones that could take him on.

Micah was groaning on the floor, swearing. Arthur stepped between you and him, one arm holding you behind him protectively, while the other pointed at Micah.

“Micah, if you goddamn touch my wife again you’ll be learning first-hand what gelding feels like” Arthur growled at him.

You froze, one hand resting on Arthur’s outstretched arm. Did he just….

All the chatter had ceased, and all the eyes were on you two. Arthur, oblivious to what he just said, turned to check on you, frowning when he saw your wide-eyed expression.

“Yer what, old man?!”

Sean’s voice broke the silence. You saw realisation suddenly appear on Arthur’s face – he’d done it now. You were still frozen, internally panicking – do you try and laugh it off as a joke, or what?

Arthur slowly closed his eyes and sighed. Then he opened his eyes, staring straight into yours as he raised his hand to the side of your face, gently caressing it.

“My wife, Sean. My gorgeous wife.” Arthur leaned forward and lightly kissed your lips, washing away any panic. After a moment, as soon as your brain engaged again, you threw your arms around his waist and hugged him, hard. You nuzzled into his warm chest as the whooping and cheering started.

The two of you were quickly surrounded, the girls peppering you with questions as the men gave Arthur hearty slaps to the back. Hosea stood slightly apart from the group, arms folded, watching; he knew how much this meant to Arthur, how hard it must have been for him to ask you. He smiled slightly, thinking about Bessie; he sure hoped you two got a different ending.

“You should have damn well said Arthur” grumbled Micah as he got to his feet, rubbing his throat. Arthur had barely opened his mouth when Abigail retorted “Well, maybe Micah, you should have taken no for an answer!”

Arthur smiled as Micah stomped away, waving his hand dismissively at Abigail.

“He’s going to be really pissed at you Arthur” you said, gazing up at Arthur with a slight shake of your head.

“Probably darlin’, probably. Guess you’ll just have to be sitting on my lap at breakfast to protect me.” You laughed together and, hand in hand, turned back to answer the barrage of questions still coming from the others. As Arthur squeezed your hand, you thought that maybe, just maybe, everything was going to work out.

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan #arthur morgan fluff #my work #fanfic #red dead fanfic #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 #request #arthur morgan x female reader

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doodles-arts · 5 years

Text

imagine how the tmnt boys react if you want to be a medical nurse in the army?

Request: How would the TMNT boys react to having a lover who wants to be a military nurse? Like studying hard for medical stuff, going to training once a month, etc. Thank you!

I enjoyed writing this because it also gives me an excuse to write sweet fluff and angst… teehee.

Leonardo:

-The leader in blue would HAtE it. Thinking of you working so far away for so much time would kill him.

-Your his little baby, and he should be protecting you from the line of fire, but he can’t really do that if your like, half-way across the world.

-At first he’s pretty chill about your medical studies.

-Super proud Turt

-He loves how well you get along with donnie, and help when they come back from patrol all injured.

-HOWEVEr once he remembers you’re going to leave him soon, he has a hard time accepting that. But being the gentleman he is, he’s not going to hold you back.

-You pick up on this and literally shower him with love every time you see.

-This turns him from a sad turt to a happy turt.

-He even starts to expect your love attacks. Peppering his face with kisses and always hugging him or giving him massages on his shoulders, hands, arms. You don’t care if his brothers are around.

-He likes the extra attention. But the more he expects it, the more he knows he’ll miss it.

-he doesn’t complain though!

-Then the day comes were your sent to a base to help out, all the way to iraq.

-he has no idea where this until donnie shows him. He leaves his brothers lab with out another word.

-he almost’s cries. he spends the rest of the day meditating

-His heart is literally broken. Your last day at the lair is pretty sad, he doesn’t cry.

-YOU DO THOUGH!

-He knows how badly you want to do this and knows that if he cries or makes you feel guilty, it would be a real dick move.

-he knows how much this means to you. He won’t ruin it.

-Though leo doesn’t really like kissing you in front of his brothers, he doesn’t care today.

-He holds your chin for a deep and sensual kiss. the second is sweet and light. he’ll miss those the most.

-he misses your waist, pretty eyes, small hands, cute human nose and the way you’d rub it on his snout.

-He cries himself to sleep most nights….

Raphael:

-Big red here would be FuRiouS

-”You’re definitely not doing this”. This makes Y o u furious. You both fight.

-He tries to reason that it was a death wish, you get defensive. You can hold your own!

-you don’t speak to each other for days..

-That is until donnie tells you he needs your help to patch the redboi up.

-You melt when you see him, your hands still steady as you stitch him up, but the weird sniffle you keep making is a dead giveaway that your crying.

-You hate seeing him so injured, and in the middle of a fight you get so scared when donnie calls you up to help

-When your done stitching his side you hug him and cry, you apologize for being so insensitive.

-You agree that it was unfair of yourself to expect him to just support your career choice and even offer to leave it behind.

-His heart breaks, you were seriously offering leaving behind your dream job and keep working at that shitty convenience store you hate sm just for him.

-his mutant ass!, he never knew how he got so lucky.

-He hugs you so tight you think your ribs were going to pop. But he can’t believe you’d throw your future away for a freak like him.

-is..is he crying?

-You both make up, and he admits that it’s going to be hard for him to be able to let you go for so long. But he doesn’t want you to suffer at your old job, he wants you to be happy.

-He encourages from now on. Training you and making you work out with him.

-During workouts it’s hard not to kiss. He’s always so grabby~

-From then on he N e v e r leaves you alone. If he's not training or patrolling, he’s with you. Doesn’t matter if your working, he’s texting you.

-After patrol? At your place. You fell asleep? He slips in beside you. Your days off he’s at your place or he asks you to come to his.

-He gets really handsy too. A l l the time, even in front of his brothers. It super embarrassing to get a slap on the ass when your literally having a conversation with any of his bros.

-You two almost never get sleep….

-Game night is now a thing, and it's very serious. No one can convince the two of you otherwise....

-Uno was banned...

-oh, he cries on your last day, he tried pep talking himself the night before not to. It didn’t work.

-and it isn’t a tear, they’re waterworks.

- Of course it isn’t in front of his brothers.

-It’s just before you climb the steps up to the manhole. He just breaks. Holds you back once you pull back from your last kiss.

-How would he survive without kissing those lips for so long?

-He trembles as he pulls you in close and cries.

-You hold him as he sobs, the tears spilling from your own eyes. He cradles you as he slowly sits on the grimy sewer floors. But he just doesn’t care right now and neither do you.

-Your late, but you don’t care.

Donatello:

-This sweetie would be so conflicted, some days he’d be so distant as you started your studies. And than others he wouldn’t keep his hands off you.

-At first you didn’t push it. He’s allowed to be angry, or sad. It wasn’t exactly easy news to swallow. And you never questioned him on the days he was “too busy for date night”.

-Butttt once your anniversary comes up and he actually FORGETS. You cry.

- you sob cry for the entire day. You try calling and he doesn’t pick up, texting you back one of his excuses.

-Donnie doesn’t think much of it, he just needed some time to himself, he hadn’t realized….

-He of course remembers the next day and feels horrible.

-When he finally has a chance to go topside and sneaks on your balcony, guess what your doing? S o b b i n g.

-His heart literally cracks when he sees your trembling shoulders and huge tears that slide down your eyes. Your holding your phone, hoping for a text, a call. Anything.

-Your eyes are huge and red, your room is a mess. All of your nursing textbooks and military posters were either in the trash can in your room or on the floor.

-he can tell you cried all night.

-He should have known better than to sulk in his own feelings. You were strong and could handle yourself, but you still had a heart! He should have been less selfish. Supported you. Talked to you, instead of flitting around the truth.

-He slips inside your room and slowly walks over you. Taking off any gear that might get in the way as he walked towards your bed.

-He lies all of his stuff next to you, and the second you see him you scream his name and throw your phone to the side. Jumping into his arms. He literally cannot feel like more of an ass hat when he holds you. Your sobbing as you say “I thought you didn't care anymore. I thought you didn’t love me anymore!” you say it over and over, your voice the definition of what fear sounds like.

-He holds you tighter. Rubbing your back the way you liked and whispering back to reassure you “I love you dove, so much. I’m so sorry”. He does this until your tire out and when he tries to pull away you don’t budge.

-He loves it. He knows that that’s a horrible thing to think rn, but you’re never really the clingy one.

-He accepts it and holds you until you fall asleep in his arms.

-The next day you both properly celebrate(he makes up for forgetting, all night) and talk about everything. Because it’s important for your relationship.

-You both become inseparable, more than usual.

-he even helps you study, he moves ALL your stuff to the lair.

-You live here now.

-So the day you leave, donnie fights the urge to lock himself in his room alone. And instead locks himself with you!

-When it's time for you to leave, he won't budge.

- oh no. your gonna be late if don doesn't let go.

-He offers to drive you though, his hand holding yours the whole ride.

-Your last kiss is full of love and tears. You try so hard to be strong. But he ends up taking over this time. “It’s time for you to go dove”. He says in between tears.

Michaelangelo:

-My poor baby boy wouldn’t even realize how long you’ll be gone until you both start talking about it.

-he supports you 100% at first though

-”my angel cakes is so smart!”, “babe your so humble”, “baby you’re so perfect”, “ANGEL CAKES I NEED A NURSE!- I got a papercut, I need kisses to heal it”

-he even offers to help with the whole human anatomy part.

-it’s super effective.

-Once he does realize how long you’ll be gone, he breaks.

-You try and make him feel better, but it doesn’t work

-Poor baby is just gonna miss you so much! So anytime you have to leave for training, or you have to study, he cries.

-He gives you puppy dog eyes and everything. Everytimeeee

-You cave so many times because of the tears. You hate seeing him cry. So you try to spend as much time with him as possible. Playing, cooking- even showering him.

-he’s the clingest of the turtles.

-He sleeps still for a change just to hold you. You don’t even know how it’s possible.

-though one night he cries in his sleep. Your awake and s h o o k. Your heart hurts. You never realized how much you were hurting him, and all things considered he was taking it like a champ! He still supported you 100%.

-You wake him up by kissing his tears away and hold him tightly. He wakes up with a jump.

-It was a nightmare and he reveals that he’s so scared that you won't love him the same anymore when you come back, or worse, you don’t make it back.

-You reassure him that you’ll always love him, but you can’ts assure him for the second part. Not knowing how to answer.

-he cries at that. He just holds you, he doesn’t want to let go. He just can’t

-The next morning you have a serious conversation, can he handle you leaving? Does he want you to leave this behind? He refuses to hold you back. But he asks for a hug…

-You give him a kiss too.

-And he begs for another, you comply, and you comply to the next 5 he asks for until he brings you to his bedroom.

-The night before you leave he has another nightmare, and you kiss him awake and sing to him until he falls back asleep.

-The day your to leave, he cries sobs.

-You hold him until he feels better. You kiss his tears away and promise to make it back. You promise this, if he promises to stay the good ol’ goofy mikey with his brother.

-You both agree and you hold hands and steal kisses from each other on your walk to the manhole.

-The last kiss is heated and full of love. It’s just what you need. You want to steal another but know will come next if you do.

-You'll miss in greatly….

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shireness-says · 5 years

Text

Swan’s Seven (1/?)

Summary: After two years behind bars, Emma's out, and she's got a plan in mind. Now to put together the perfect team... Let's stage an art heist. (A CS Ocean’s 8 AU) 1.9K. Rated T for language. Also on AO3.

~~~~~

A/N: Thanks for joining me for another MC! It’s going to be a fun one. Turns out, I hate posting schedules when I’m the one being scheduled, so these will be up when they’re up. Hang in there.

Thanks to my wonderful beta, @snidgetsafan. Love ya bunches, babe.

Tagging: @optomisticgirl, @spartanguard, @profdanglaisstuff, @captainsjedi, @thisonesatellite, @thejollyroger-writer, @let-it-raines, @teamhook, @kmomof4, @snowbellewells, @searchingwardrobes, @winterbaby89. Shoot me a message if you want to be added/taken off the list.

Enjoy, and let me know what you think!

~~~~~

It feels odd, changing back into regular clothes after two years in a prison jumpsuit. Not bad, obviously - orange was never really Emma’s color anyways — just… odd. The black leather dress still fits like a glove, she’s pleased to note, and her arms are looking better than ever. That little tidbit is almost enough to keep Emma from slipping her treasured red leather jacket over the top — almost. A girl’s got to have her armor and a signature piece, after all.

“You gonna behave yourself, Ms. Swan?” the guard posted at the release desk asks as she hands over the last of the possessions Emma was arrested with - a pitifully small handbag. Emma resolves to burn it as soon as possible — less for the bad memories, more because it barely holds two cards and a hundred dollars cash.

Not that she’s been blessed with such a generous sum. “Don’t I always, Marcie,” she chuckles darkly. “Besides, how much trouble can I get into with $32.17?”

$3.17 of it is in change. She’ll be lucky if she can get a cab to a train station with that kind of money.

“That’s what I’m worried about,” Marcie grumbles. She looks like she’s suppressing a smile, though; she always was one of the guards Emma got along with. “Get out of here, and don’t let me see you next year.”

“Yes ma’am.”

The sunlight feels different, too, as Emma walks out the front doors and down the path to the parking lot. It’s not that she hasn’t been outside in two years; even in New York, they get time in the prison yard, so that’s obviously not the case. But knowing that she can enjoy the sunlight in longer than one-hour spurts is a different thing altogether, and wholly intoxicating.

She’s so busy soaking in the sunshine and her new-found freedom that it takes Emma a moment to notice the figure waiting where the fence gives way to cars and asphalt: lean, dark haired, dressed to kill. Regina.

“Hot date?” the other woman drawls, not even bothering to look up from where a perfectly manicured thumbnail navigates her phone. Emma wouldn’t expect anything less from her partner in crime. Emma and Regina met six years ago while both attempting to con the same mark, and had been criminally inseparable ever since (and she’s still particularly proud of the fake charity cons they used to run on wealthy, pervy men, happy to toss a few thousand dollars their way without checking their credentials too closely in hopes of getting into Regina’s pants). In all that time, Emma’s never seen her look anything but immaculately put together in perfectly tailored garments, expertly paired with that air of casual boredom she’s perfected. Beneath the cold exterior, Emma knows, lies a terrifying loyalty, however. It’s probably not a coincidence that that fucker Neal Cassidy wound up arrested mere months after setting up Emma to take the fall for his crimes, still landing her an accessory conviction after his stupid watches were found in her trunk despite the police’s inability to put her at scene of the crime — and indeed, surveillance video proved she hadn’t been the one breaking into cases. But Emma went to prison, and Regina… well, Emma wouldn’t be surprised if Regina got a little payback, even if she’d never admit to it.

“I don’t know, depends on who’s at the insurance convention you’re attending,” Emma shoots back. The perfectly matched trousers, blazer, and vest certainly suggest business more than a casual afternoon; an uninformed bystander would certainly be forgiven for thinking Regina was Emma’s lawyer instead of a fellow conwoman.

Despite the teasing introductions, Emma still doesn’t hesitate to wrap her friend into a tight hug. “Missed you, Reg,” she whispers.

“Me too,” is the barely audible response, before Regina pulls back to briskly brush at her precisely creased pants. “That’s enough of that. I thought prison wasn’t supposed to make you go soft, E, control yourself. I’ll still give you a lift into the city, if you want.”

“I’m counting on a lot more than that,” Emma comments as they climb into the black Volvo — nice, but not flashy, hovering just below the radar. Just the way they both like it. Emma idly wonders who stole it. “I’m gonna need a place to crash.”

Regina shoots her a sideways glance, full of skepticism. Regina Mills doesn’t do confusion. “Not running off to see brother dearest and whatever disgusting fairy tale he’s living in backwoods Maine?”

“Not yet.”

Regina hums in sudden understanding. “Ah. You’ve got a job in mind.”

“And I don’t want him involved,�� Emma finishes.

“What’s the job?”

“I’ll tell you when we get back to your place,” Emma promises. “You’ll like it, though, it’ll be a fun one. And besides, it’s a favor for an old friend.”

Most of the rest of the 90 minute drive into the city passes in silence — not that Emma minds. It gives her a chance to run over the plan in her head again before she has to tell Regina. Still, they’re pulling up in front of the warehouse space that always manages to look just this side of abandoned. Regina had the business savvy at some point to buy up the building with some of the money she’d accumulated over the years, and last Emma heard, it was a thriving nightclub. Poison Apple. Terrible name, in Emma’s opinion, but she’s not the one running the place.

The inside is the same as always, full of exposed metal beams and carefully cultivated rust. Emma knows that at night, when this place is packed with revelers, the lights (what few of them exist) illuminate in bronze and gold shades, really encouraging the steampunk fairytale feeling in here. The unusual wishing well on one side of the room helps with that too, as does the apple tree growing under the grimy window panels that make up the slant of the roof. Emma finds those touches just as ridiculous as the name, but you can’t deny that there’s a theme going. And anyways, they can make good money pulling change out of the wishing well after the end of the weekend.

The apartment upstairs is much the same, minus the ridiculous fairytale decor. It’s been shined up, however, in a way that the club hasn’t been. Regina’s taste has always tended towards the luxurious and ornate, in a way that should be anachronistic against the metal and brick, but isn’t. The scrolled and gilded furniture is more comfortable than the minimalistic metal and leather Emma would have expected of an industrial space anyways, so Emma doesn’t have much space to pass any judgement.

“There’s a spare bedroom upstairs,” Regina says, tossing her keys onto the kitchen counter. Dark wood, white granite. Nice. “Make yourself at home.”

“What, with all my baggage?” Emma snorts.

“Fine, don’t then,” Regina snipes back, opening the fridge to toss Emma a beer. “Don’t come whining to me later about how I’m not being hospitable or some shit.”

“I’ve got a drink, what else do I need?” Emma collapses onto the couch. It feels good to finally toe her heels off, even if she can’t kick them across the room with a polished wood coffee table in the way that definitely cost more than the $32.17 in her wallet. God, what was the Emma of two years ago thinking with these torture devices?

Oh. Yeah. Horribly in love, planning to maybe use the heels to coax her date into a wild night of sex. That’d explain it.

“Oh, well, now that you’re here, what about that explanation? You said you had a plan in mind for some job?” Regina, of course, has somehow managed to conjure up a glass of wine for herself. Beer is for the peasants or something.

“The job of the century,” Emma promises.

“Yes, that’s great. The details?” Nothing is more entertaining than an impatient, pissed off Regina. It’s probably a miracle they haven’t killed each other yet.

Emma savors the moment for one more sip of her beer before finally spilling. “Zelena West. You know her?”

“Personally? No,” Regina snorts. “But Zelena West, pharmaceutical titan and socialite? Yes, Emma, I know of her. You’re the one who’s been in prison, not me.”

Emma ignores the jab. “You’re aware about her art collecting, then? The gallery she runs for the public?”

“Again, I haven’t been living under a rock, E.”

“And you know about the upcoming collaboration between the West Collection and the Big Apple Ballet? Big exhibit in BAB’s gallery about the intersection of dance and art?”

“Yes…” Regina trails off as the details finally sink in. “You’re planning an art heist.”

“Bingo.”

“A classic, certainly. Seems a bit of a risk, though, especially since you’re fresh out of prison. Why would you want to go after such a big fish right away?”

“Like I said, it’s a favor for an old friend.” She takes another swig of her beer. “It’ll be fun, besides. And it’ll work.”

“Yes, well, that’s left to be seen,” Regina grumbles. “Tell me everything, start to finish. Every motive, every step, every player, or so help me god, Emma, I won’t lift a finger to help you with this. I don’t intend to be caught attempting a fool’s gambit.”

So she does. Emma’s had a lot of time to think through this, and has run it in her head countless times. She knows every inch of this plan inside and out — and by the time she’s done speaking, Regina does too.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this… but I think it might work.” The wine has long since been consumed in the course of their conversation, but Regina sounds like she needs another glass after being conned into that admittance. “You’ll need a crew though. This isn’t something we can pull off on our own, I can tell you that now.”

“Oh, I know that,” Emma readily agrees. She’d been prepared for this. “We’re definitely going to need a xerox, a code wrangler, and a can opener. Maybe a fairy fingers, for good measure.”

“Never know when you’re going to need a good fairy,” Regina agrees. “You’re going to need a good garage sale, too.”

“For sure. Someone who’s already tapped into that world.”

“So five, plus you and I… you really think we can pull this off with seven players?”

“I really do.”

“I’ll put out feelers tomorrow, start collecting resumes.” Regina stands, carefully straightening out her pants. “It’s good to have you back in the game, Emma. I was worried that once you got out, you’d run off to live some boring Rockwell life with your brother.”

“Not me. Once a con, always a con,” Emma toasts before finishing off her beer.

And that’s the truth of it, really — this is in her blood. The one thing Emma Swan is better at than anything is conning people out of their money. It brought her a family, and a purpose, and a challenge to face every morning. She’s not sure she can imagine any other kind of life, or that she’d want to. Day after day crammed into a cubicle just isn’t for her.

“Let’s go stage an art heist,” it’s easy to declare, easier than riding a bike, almost easier than breathing.

Emma Swan is back in the game.

#Captain Swan #cs ff #my writing #Swan's Seven #Ocean's 8 AU #the razzing on David will continue #because it's kind of fun

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91whiskeygirl · 5 years

Text

It’s 430pm, the air thick since it just rained. The sky cloudy and full of moisture. He took out his luggage from the trunk and walked over the driveway with a crooked grin on his face, his snug black shirt and jeans hugging his most firm features. Checking the time on his watch while he waited for you to be surprised at the knock on your door, how early he arrived back home unexpectedly. Jensen flew twelve hours straight just to get home to you; you’d thought he’d spend the weekend celebrating with the crew; which you didn’t mind since you still had to clean yourself up, but once you landed eyes on the tall figure behind the glass door while you walked through the foyer, you shouldn’t be surprised, after all, you’re his girl. He reminded you of that countless times.

The SPN hiatus finally begun, and you were so excited to have your boyfriend back for some well long awaited quality time.

“Jay!”, you squealed, quickly hugging him like a five year old girl that just got her first prize at the carnival.

“Hey baby girl”, he towered over you with that smirk of his, putting his luggage inside and grabbing you by the waist, your feet barely touching the floor now. Gosh he knew how to take your breath away every single time.

“Why didn’t you stay the weekend? We’re you that desperate to see me in my pizza pajama pants?”, looking up into his candy apple eyes. “Of course sweetheart, those pjs make your ass look just as juicy as it is without them”, his intense stare made you lose your train of thought for a retort as he snaked his hands around your bottom, lifting you up to where you could feel how hard he already was for you. You couldn’t help but smile ear to ear, feeling wanted wasn’t what you were used to, but with Jensen it was a perfect response.

Laying your hands on the sides of his neck you kissed his jawline and took his hand, leading him to the kitchen. You grab a couple of beers for you both. “I haven’t even had time to make dinner, I didn’t know I would have company”. He popped the cap with his keys and sat down on one of the chairs, leaning his elbows on the island while looking at you with those pretty boy lashes of his. He replied, “it’s no big deal, we can always order in.”.

A bit more of slow kisses on his lips you hopped on to his lap and hugged him tight, your chin on his shoulder. Gosh, how could you miss his scent so much? You engulfed your nose of his presence and didn’t want to let go of him, fearing he was just an illusion. You hadn’t slept well for a couple of weeks. Your job had you at overtime for a wedding gig, and because of the Thanksgiving holiday, you were booked three weeks straight. You didn’t celebrate thanksgiving, but you didn’t mind spending it with someone who loved food as much as you do. Of course, you didn’t want to admit it as much, you weren’t like most women like what “Dean” went for. but he didn’t care that you were the total opposite. You were a curvy woman, your y/h/c hair just passing your shoulders, but not tame able enough to style it how you wanted it all the time, your belly just about hugging your waist, your constant battle to finding a great pair of jeans felt inevitable. You weren’t the perfect vision in your own eyes. But when Jensen walked into your life you started to not mind your size as much. He appreciated every curve and dimple, every flaw you saw in yourself was perfection to him. “How the hell did I catch this handsome guy in my life when I look like this?” Was always your daily mantra until things got serious between you two a few months back. Now he called your home his, he even had his own closet.

You took all your strength to move away from him answering back, “How about we do some pre - feasting? We can order some fried chicken, wedges, couple of pies for dessert,and why the hell not; maybe even a salad just because I’m feeling healthy today.” Thanksgiving was never your favorite holiday, your family ruined it for everyone even though they’d host the party. You felt no better when they’d make remarks at your for how you look, going for your passion instead of being a nurse, and never settling down with whoever they approved. You moving out at 19 and taking a risk to fly to Canada randomly was a blessing in disguise. You worked your ass off with internships, most unpaid, surviving on coffee, ramen, and sriracha packets. The fact that you jumped on applying for a job while SPN was filming in the area, you never thought you’d end up with a hunk like Jensen falling for you. You giggled as he gripped your hips tighter, his chin lifting up and looking into your y/e/c eyes. “I love it when you talk pie to me”. You rolled your eyes thinking “Shut up Dean”.

He scoffed a laugh and put you down gently and headed to your bedroom, plopped his luggage down next to the foot of the bed and made his way to the bathroom. He took off his shirt and instantly grimaced at how gross he felt thanks to the long flights he just made. One of his favorite places in the house was definitely the shower. He helped you out a bit since you hated the original structure of the bathroom. “I’m too fat to fit in a tub meant for a water goddess”, was what you told him, saying it lightly enough to be taken as a joke, but he knew your insecurities in and out. So he offered to get his contractor in and upgrade it. The floor was a soft rose gold marble, walls matching, a tub the size so wide and deep you could actually cover your whole body and and an extra person, gold trim accenting everywhere. A bit feminine but not enough for him to not use this masterpiece of a bathroom.

A separate shower next to it so big he caught you a few times dancing in it while you showered after coming home from work, de stressing the day away with his new album playing on your blue tooth speaker. You were so proud of him when it finally released. He’d caught you one too many times humming “All Our Own” in the house. You always sang off key but he loved hearing you no matter what. It was one of the things that showed your were content and happy.

He thought back to when you couldn’t even take a compliment on your outfit. You had just gotten the AKF hoodie in the mail and drank some coffee on set while waiting for Jared on his way to get a touch up on his hair and makeup. “Hey, loving the jacket on you y/n, you’re looking beautiful”, Jensen complimented her, keeping his stare on your face, struggling not to look anywhere else he wanted so badly to. You were just his makeup artist then. “Oh- uh thanks Jay, I’m just glad it fits...you know the sizes never seem to be a perfect fit whenever it comes to me. I actually bought a couple more in case but luckily I have friends that are way smaller than me, so I gave the ones I didn’t fit to them.” You looked down into your cup of caramel coffee, trying to avert your eyes from him. His eye contact always made your heart race, no matter what came out of his mouth. “Well,” he slowly walked inching closer to you “you’re perfect to me.” Shooting you that movie star smile he gave to fans. And that’s what did you in. A gorgeous man just told you that you were perfect without a snark comment or a snicker after finishing that sentence. THE Jensen Ackles just complimented on your appearance, and you felt the wave of confidence, standing a little straighter and fluffing your hair to the side while you drank your coffee and having your eyes twinkle up at him. Next thing you both knew, you were on your first date, and then your first make out session in the park You, Gen, and Jared used to jog in the mornings before starting work, and then everything built up to him moving in to your home.

Steam started to build up in the shower as Jensen put his head underneath the shower nozzle. Rubbing the hair product out of his hair made him feel a little less grimy. He wished you stayed with SPN before the last season finished, your expertise with lightweight products were a god send to the boys; but you got tired of the traveling back and forth with airports and cabs, sleeping in hotel rooms, you wanted to stay close to home. You started your own side business free - lancing again like the old times, but now with a reputation you were busy with every occasion you could think of. Hair and makeup gigs never came to you so fast when you landed back home.

“Dinner just got here!” You yelled from the hallway. “I’m just about done” he retorted back, washing away the last remnants of what traveling he just did. He didn’t notice you leaning on the doorway admiring him toweling off until he turned towards your way and you got a full view of him as he wrapped his towel around his waist. Your throat got dry enough where you subconsciously had a soft moan escape from you, and he noticed, smiling. Were you in trouble now.

Walking over to you with his semi wet hedgehog hair and steam coming off his shoulders from his shower, he closed any space between you two.

“I think the dinner can wait sweetheart”, he said, his hand at the back of your head and leaning down to grab a kiss from you. “Breath y/n, for fucks sake this isn’t the first time you both got heated.” Your thought ran through your brain. You hadn’t realized you closed your eyes until he released his lips from yours. You were dumb founded. It was like you were in a trance. He was so god like in every form, and you were a bumble of a mess every time he even so much as grazed you with his fingertips.

He led you to the bedroom and he threw his towel off into the laundry basket. “I want dessert first,” he already was helping you take off your shirt, your breasts hovering then dropping like heavy gum drops. You made your way to get your bottoms discarded and thrown wherever, you didn’t give a fuck, you were focused on Jensen too much to care. You sucked in your stomach like always like it was first instinct, and he noticed. You started to get tense until he started kissing you hard, his tongue teasing your bottom lip to invite him in. His arms around your back making its way down to your hips, he gently pushed you on to the bed, your back lying on all the silky pillows you had, just because it looked nice aesthetically. You always ended up only sleeping with one particular one to support your neck and back.

He starts to kiss your shoulders, then nipping his way down to your breasts. His mouth devours one side, licking and sucking, making your hips lift because of the slight pain and absolute pleasure. “Jeez Jensen I don’t know why you always go for the boobs first” you tease. “You knew from the start I was a boob guys, one of the many reasons I asked you out.”, teasing back. You bit your lips and tugged the back of his head full of hair in your hand when he started to pull your nipple gently with his teeth. Your breathing started to stutter, his hands caressing your back, your hips, your thighs. He opened up your legs and cradled your ass cheeks. His elbows supporting his position of what he was about to do next.

“Perfect as always baby,” he told you, kissing the insides of your thighs, going lower with each kiss. You gave up feeling like he would hate seeing you naked after the first few times you both messed around in the beginning of the relationship. He told you to stare at him while he devoured your pussy and for the first few times you hesitated ,but did as you were told. You locked eyes with him, but you eventually would lay back down. You were so scared of the angle of what he’d see. Instead of a flat tummy there was a mountain of a roll in the way if you ever lifted up, and your chin wasn’t your friend either. But tonight was different. He didn’t even ask and you saw his eyes locked on you while he licked you gently, then a bit harder,knowing building you up to the amazing orgasm you always have with him.

Your hips started to writhe when he started to suck your bud, and lick up whatever wetness you had, the warmth in your core creating a wave of pleasure soon. You could feel his stubble burning on your inner thighs, accepting the sensation it gave you. He moaned into you when you reached to hold his hands. How you imagined having your pussy eaten out never came to until Jensen introduced it to you, and he never skipped it when things got hot in the bedroom. He always paid attention to you first even though you were persistent at times that you wanted his cock in your mouth first. Your breathing became more shallow and erratic, the coil in you about to break, Jensen licked a bit faster but not harder, he knew it was never in the interest of a woman when you just rushed the process of her dam breaking. Your back started to arch and he dove in deeper, putting two of his fingers in you and curling it right on t your spot. You closed your eyes and placed your hands on your mouth. You realized your windows were open even though the curtains were closed, your bedroom windows faced the neighbors where your pool also was, and you didn’t need sneering looks from them in the morning when you got the newspaper. “Cum all over my mouth baby, I want to taste all of you” he said, gripping your hips now, he felt your pussy clench, dripping with wetness all over his lips and stubble. He pumped you a few more times then eagerly got above you, his cock already pleading at your tender entrance.

“Please Jay, I want you to fill me up baby”, you shined under him, your high slowly dissipating. He inches into you and you gasped at every inch he got deeper. Your body leaned into the mattress even more when he was fully seated in you. “Fuck Jensen! “ you screamed, too late for avoiding sneering looks I guess. “You’re so beautiful under me y/n, taking all of my cock inside of you, I missed you so much, I missed all of you. “ he leaned down making a mark on your left breast and then grabbing the right one with his left hand. If you thought you couldn’t cross your eyes, you probably just did. Your coil started to tighten again, and he wasn’t even thrusting in you repeatedly yet. He saw how desperate you were becoming. “You ready for me sweetheart?” He asked you softly. “Always.” Was the only thing you could answer back. With that he thrusted in one go into you, and you could feel him reaching at your g spot again. How the hell can he feel this good every time? You were baffled, every time.

“I can never get tired of this pussy y/n, you’re always so tight and warm for me. “ he grunted through. His neck and shoulders tensing, his biceps bulging when he grabs your thighs to pull them apart wider, going deeper. Your short of breath now and can only reply with whimpers, you want to let go so bad and cum on him. Feel him while you wrap tightly around him. “Jay I’m so fucking close, please!” You beg, your eyes closing tightly shut, trying to control your orgasm until Jensen is ready.

A few more thrusts and Jensen is starting to ride you unevenly, you thank the heavens he’s about done, I’m sure he’s hungry, but you’re starving, for him to fill you up to the rim and also for that fried chicken dinner waiting downstairs. He lifts your leg over his shoulder and kisses it tenderly, his hand moving from your calf to your knee, and ending up caressing your thigh, and then grabbing your ass to pull you in as he starts to fuck the lights out of you. You cry with pleasure, the coil bursting and you clench his cock, he’s not slowing down at all. “I’m gonna finish baby, you want me to cum in you? Fill you the fuck up? Have you leaking me out of you?” Gosh he knows you love dominant dirty talk. You smile wickedly and grab his hips. For a curvy woman you have the flexibility of a cheerleader. “Fill me the fuck up baby” you tell him confidently, staring into his eyes as he comes undone. He grabs the leg on his shoulder tightly, thrusting shallow as his high is coming down, and he makes his way sitting up after kissing you a bit more before pulling himself out.

“Fuck I missed you y/n”, he softly said while you were both cleaning up after the blissful session. “I missed you too Jay, you make me feel so loved and safe, you don’t expect anything less of me”. He cups your face with his hands and you gently kiss one of his wrists “Baby, You’re perfect.”. With that you smiled and kissed him deeply, his plush lips hugging yours perfectly. You took his hands and looked up at your lover. With that sparkle in your eye, you say “I love you.”

He never thought you’d say that to him. He never expected you to say it, he didn’t need it. The corners of his eyes crinkled from his smile; “I love you, y/n.” There’s butterflies in his stomach, and then, a loud gurgle of a growl came from his and yours stomach. He thought you’d be embarrassed enough to forget what awesome thing just happened between you two an hour ago and run to hide somewhere in the bathroom. Instead, you laughed loudly and snorted a bit too, his concerned face softened and he took your favorite shirt you stole from him on one of your sleepovers at his place, and dressed you. He placed a kiss on your hand , “come on , we’re both hungry after that session” you beamed a smile at him and giggled on your way out to the hallway, he smacks your ass a couple times and you jump and squeal before running to the kitchen, him running after you.

After dinner you still had room for actual dessert, the pumpkin pie and vanilla ice cream with dark chocolate shavings on top really hit the spot. You both are cuddled up on the sofa watching the fireplace crackle and warming your bodies up again. You relish the moment, Jensen’s chest going up and down slowly, knowing he fell asleep right after dessert. You turn and angle yourself where you can lie down more and place your head near his belly and on his lap, he automatically adjusts and starts playing with your hair. He rubs his eyes and sees you staring at him intently, a small grin on your face. “Whatcha smiling about now y/n?” He keeps playing with your hair. “Nothing, just that tonight was perfect, thank you for surprising me.” He replies with a kiss on your forehead as you both fall asleep from the pre -feast coma you both just gave yourselves.

**Happy Thanksgiving everyone!**

It’s a bit random but I wanted something to post for the holiday, I’m gonna try my best to do one shots for the Xmas holiday:) hope y’all enjoyed!

#spn #spnfamily #spnfandom #spn fan fiction #dean girl #jensen ackles smut #jensen x reader #jensenedit

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you-andthebottlemen · 5 years

Text

53 - Request: OVERLAP song fic

So to celebrate the fact I am seeing Catfish tomorrow ahhhhhhhh!!!!! An Overlap fic!!!!!!!

Based on these requests:

From @chestinfect-me

YES! AN OVERLAP FIC PLEASE😭😭😭❤❤❤❤

From @cinnamonmouse8

Idk if you've already done this but maybe a cute little fic where the reader is at home just chilling, maybe like washing up or something and she's blasting Catfish's new album and singing along very offkey and muddling up words but then Van walks in and he thinks it's the cutest, maybe? Such a fan of ur fics either way ❤️

Thank you so much @chestinfect-me for your support! I recognise your URL from waaaay back. Thanks so much for sticking around. I love you and also your icon. Also a big thank you to @cinnamonmouse8 who has been a massive supporter of my writing recently and really inspired me to get back into it! I hope you both like this fic and how I have incorporated/interpreted the requests! Also hope it’s not too confusing lol. It’s a looong one and I’m not really sure how I feel about it.....Aaaanyway. Enjoy!!!!

E x

***************************

Your relationship with Van was brief in the scheme of things but that didn’t make it any less serious. You fell fast and hard and your heart broke in two when you had to go your separate ways. You were in love, but things just weren’t working with his lifestyle and yours combined. Same old story really. It was devastating for you both, but you knew that at the time it was the right thing to part ways. You just weren’t meant to be. Time passed and things managed to heal. You dated other people and so did he, your time together started to become history. Neither of you harboured resentment, it was mutual. You stayed in touch here and there but nothing serious. You moved on.

Though as if you were two magnets with the widest of electromagnetic fields, you and Van always managed to find your way back to each other in the end. Every time you thought it was going to be a goodbye, it never was. Your paths crossed and your lives overlapped in more ways than one.

First time since the breakup –

A chance happening, a string pulled by the universe. The odds that you and Van were walking down the same street, at the same time in opposite directions were next to none. But it happened anyway. The look of recognition dawning on both your faces after a few seconds as your eyes met when you passed each other by. Awkward hugs and smiles of disbelief.

“How’ve you been?”

“Yeah good, you?”

“Yeah, fine thanks. How’s the band going?”

And a promise to call that was never fulfilled.

Your cousin’s engagement party –

Van McCann and Larry Lau; the guests no one thought would show. Old school friends of your cousin, they were invited out of chance. But they were there. They bounced through the door, life of the party anywhere they went. People enveloped them into hugs and burst into smiles like nothing you’d ever seen. They were hardly ever home these days; had to sell their cottage in Chester and everything you’d been told. Van made his way to you of course, having no trouble at all pulling you away from the rigmarole of such events. The rest of the party disappeared and so did the time that had escaped between you. You and he caught up like old friends and it was good, warm and right. You lingered at the back of the party in the shadows under the glowing fairy lights, talking and sharing stories of how life had been. You had time to take each other in and evaluate how time had changed you both; it hadn’t much. You thought about bringing up the past, talking about where it went wrong. But you and Van laughed as if nothing bad had ever happened between you and you didn’t want to ruin that. The party went on, you caught up with Larry too. You ate, danced, drank and all the while Van made sure to keep your champagne glass topped up, then got you back home safely in a taxi when the night came to a close.

The wedding –

You somehow ended up bridesmaid, your dress was far too pink for your liking and with too many frills. When you walked up the aisle, bouquet in hand, you couldn’t help but picture your own wedding; if you’d ever have one. As you did so, your eyes fell on Van who was sat in the middle with his mother. You could see even from there that his suit wasn’t pressed, and his tie was a little skew-whiff. Your stomach rippled with a feeling you weren’t sure of and he smiled as you passed him. You looked away. At the reception, once again, Van found you and things began to pick up where they’d left off. It all came easily. Van complemented your dress, you spoke with Mary and you introduced Van to your new boyfriend. Both of you acted like none of this was weird at all. It was just life. Your life.

…………..

One meeting in particular changed things. You had found yourself back home in the small town you wanted nothing more to do with. Reasons for being there aside, the universe wanted you there and wanted Van there too.

You’d escaped your dreary house for some air and were sat inside a shelter similar to that at a bus stop. It stood right on the edge of the beach where the pebbles started and led down to the water. From here you had a view out across the whole straight, flat shoreline. It was windy as hell; your hair blew around your face and you were too zoned out to hold it down or fix it. The sky was grey and so was the water, mirroring how you felt. Down and out. Life was taking its toll.

Staring out into the choppy, angry ocean, you hardly noticed as a figure sat beside you. People walked their dogs along the promenade here all the time, so company wasn’t unusual. But when the person reached a long arm out around your shoulders, you turned and saw that it was Van McCann, of all people. You leant into his touch without a thought and he pulled you close.

You didn’t have the mental capacity to wonder or ask why he was there or how he’d found you.

“You alright, love?” he asked, you didn’t reply.

You didn’t want to tell him about your sick aunt or your job that was desperately close to falling apart or the end to yet another relationship and he didn’t make you. He just took your cold, shaking hands in his own to warm them up and told you ridiculous stories from tour until you cracked a smile. Once he’d cheered you up a little, you both walked along the promenade past all the beach front hotels that were shut up for the winter. You shared memories from growing up and agreed that it was strange to be back there together.

Van walked you home and hugged you tight at the door.

“Are we like, friends now?” you asked softly as you pulled away.

All your run in’s with Van over the last year had left you at somewhat of a no man’s land. You weren’t sure if you were friends yet, but you weren’t just acquaintances either. You didn’t know what to make of it.

You reached out to smooth the thin gold necklace against his chest that had become wonky after your embrace.

“Yeah, y/n. We’re friends,” he replied. Then kissed you on the forehead and guided you inside with an arm around your waist.

…………

Eventually Van was settled, he seemed to have found a place. Maybe an Airbnb you weren’t sure. But he was near enough to you that you could meet up for drinks and whatever else. You grew closer, seeing each other a couple of times when he was off tour and things worked out with both your schedules.

The local pub was buzzing with energy. You could hear all the noise from your small flat above. When you came down, people were sat in crowded groups for a quiz, other’s more low-key up at the bar, some were huddled playing pool. You sat in a corner on a small, sticky sofa waiting for Van. You alternated between scrolling through pointless apps on your phone, sipping your drink and glancing at the door for the tall, skinny legged boy you were waiting for.

Finally, he moseyed through the door and plonked himself down beside you.

“Sorry I’m late,” Van said as he leant to kiss your cheek hello. “Phone’s fucked again too.”

“It’s fine, here. You’re gonna have to catch me up I’ve gotten through two of these,” you said as you pushed him a beer bottle across the coffee table. Beer table? He grinned, up for the challenge.

A night of thoughtless drinking ensued. Quickly, you and Van were slurring your words and getting a little closer than friends should. You sat tucked beside Van on the grimy sofa with your bare legs stretched out across his lap and his hands draped over them, rubbing soft circles on your skin with his thumb.

“Do you ever think about like, us?” he asked nonchalantly. He tipped his head back a little and the sharp line of his jaw became more pronounced.

“You mean when we dated?”

Van nodded. You rested your head down on his shoulder with a sigh. Your brain was too fuzzy to be talking about this.

“Why?”

“Did we fuck up by ending it?” he questioned.

His voice sounded strange and cloudy. You could feel his body tense beneath you and you knew he meant this more as a statement, despite putting it out there as a question.

“Don’t know. But hey, we’re here now,” you tried to sooth and steer the topic away from something so serious. You were friend’s now; you didn’t want to ruin that. You didn’t want to lose him again.

“Yeah,” he agreed, moving in his seat and bundling you tighter in his lap.

“And we are drunk as all fuck,” you laughed.

“It’s pretty sound hey?” he smiled, giving in to your attempt at lightening the mood. You nodded happily, scrunching up your face at him a little.

Van suddenly stood, lifting you up like a bride and you squealed and threw your arms around his neck.

“I’m not gonna drop ya’ love,” he chuckled, sensing your fear

“Are you sure?” you whispered into his neck.

“I’ve got you y/n, always.”

………..

Going out and getting drunk with Van became somewhat of a routine when he was home. Same place, same time, same amount of fucked. He’d go from his place, to work, to yours almost on a loop. ‘Yours’ being the pub. Another thing that became a habit, was Van bringing up your past. You were both intoxicated every time and you’d almost always end up just laughing about it. Though you couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something serious behind his words. You never talked about it sober; that topic was strictly reserved for drunk Van and drunk y/n.

A few months since the last time, you found yourself once again in the local with Van. The only thing different this time, was that Larry and Bondy had joined you.

“So, what’s happening up in The Toon?” you asked Bondy, mocking his Geordie accent.

“Nothing much,” he shrugged, sipping his lager and ignoring your bait. “Went to a good gig at The Cluny the other week though.” he added, referring to a small gig venue he was always at when back home in Newcastle.

“Anything new with you?” Bondy asked. You crinkled your eyebrows to think, then shook your head no in response.

“You sure?” he questioned, nodding his head towards Van’s arm that hung over your shoulders.

“We’re just friends,” you answered quickly.

“Riiiight,” Larry chimed in sarcastically as he came over with a tray of drinks.

You and Van shifted together uncomfortably. He removed his arm and this small act made your stomach twist. Bondy and Larry exchanged a look.

Later on in the night, Van escaped outside for a smoke while the other two played pool. Having no interest in the game, you took Larry’s jacket and followed him out into the cold night. He was stood outside the pub just by the door, his back leant against the bricks.

“You’ll dirty your coat,” you told him, as you leant beside him.

“You’ll dirty Larry’s,” he countered.

“Touché.”

Van smoked in silence, the noise from inside the pub was muffled and the only other sound was the occasional car driving past. You weren’t really sure what was going on. Neither of you were as drunk as usual and things didn’t feel as fun, alcohol aside.

“Is everything okay?” you asked, crossing your arms and turning to face him.

Van dropped his cigarette and squished it under his boot with a sigh. He swatted a moth out of his face, and you let out an exhale in place of a laugh.

“Yeah. I mean…I dunno’ I just have stuff on my mind.”

Van ran a hand through his hair then shoved it into his pocket. Seeing him like this made you uneasy. You didn’t like being serious with Van. Deciding against questioning him further, you stayed quiet and gave him space to think and continue when he was ready.

“I know we talk about it and joke about it when we’re fucked. But I just can’t get it out my head,” he began, pulling away from the wall and sounding frustrated with himself.

Your heart lurched. No, Van, stop. Please.

“Have you really not thought about it? Trying again?” he questioned, his eyes snapping to yours pleadingly.

You had thought about it, but not seriously. You’d tried once and it didn’t work; you’d accepted that. You were friend’s now and that was going just fine. The idea of being in a relationship with Van again, unearthing all the things you once felt, seemed like the scariest thing in the world.

Van’s eyes stared intensely into your own, waiting for a response of some sort. You didn’t know what to say. He looked anxious. When you didn’t reply his eyes began to dart around your face desperately trying to read your blank expression.

“Do you want to be with me y/n?”

The words fell from his mouth quietly and you reeled.

“I- I can’t decide all this now. Not in one night,” you replied, leaning further back into the wall and shutting your eyes to calm yourself. Your mind was racing a million miles an hour.

Van sighed and moved closer to place a warm hand on your cheek.

“Take all the time you need y/n, you know I’ll follow your lead.”

Van led you back inside without another world, telling himself that you’d be together eventually if your path’s kept crossing like they had been. He had no doubt about it.

………

You hadn’t spoken to Van much after the conversation outside the pub. He’d left for tour once again and you’d gotten a new job that kept you busy. You were happier in this one too and the pay was better. This meant that in the three months Van had spent away, he returned home to find you in the midst of moving.

He’d called you just before his flight, saying he needed to talk once he was back. He sounded serious, like he had that night he asked you to be with him. You knew he wanted to work it out once and for all. Your body filled with anxiety yet again, but you agreed to meet in the pub downstairs at lunch time two days after he got back.

You were sweaty haired and stressed out by the time it was midday and you had to go see Van. There were boxes littered around the tiny flat, your possessions spread out across the floor and some boxes in the stair well that you’d managed to drag out. You honestly didn’t know how you’d accumulated so much stuff. After taking a final glance at your not so pleasant reflection in the mirror, you thought fuck it. Van wouldn’t care how you looked anyway.

He was sitting on the sofa in the back corner, your usual spot. Dressed in his usual black skinny jeans and black denim jacket. God, you really were both such creatures of habit. His mouth twisted into a smile when he saw you and he stood to hug you hello. He pulled away leaving his hands rested on your shoulders.

“You alright?” he asked, confused at the state of you.

“Yeah, packing. Moving,” you shrugged as he looked you up and down. “Gotta be out tomorrow morning.”

Van nodded and let his arms drop.

“I can help, if you want?” he offered.

“Sure. Thanks,” you smiled. “But first, what did you wanna talk about?” You knew full well what he wanted to talk about, but you acted ignorant in hopes of putting it off for as long as possible.

“Oh, yeah,” he shook his head as if he’d forgotten. “You know what? Doesn’t matter, just wanted to see ya. How about we go get on with those boxes?”

Van followed you up the stairs to your place. It was strange that he’d somehow never been up there before after the countless nights you’d spent together downstairs. Would the pub still be your meeting place once you moved?

He glanced around the room curiously, eyeing the boxes already packed and the possessions that still lay strewn about the place.

“You weren’t kiddin’ when you said small,” he commented.

The ‘flat’ you rented was a single room with a small kitchen, dining table, bed and shelves all in the one space with a tiny bathroom set off to the side in what may as well have been a cupboard. It was simple but it had worked.

“Yeah, well not all of us have rock star pay checks,” you teased, and Van stared back at you unamused.

“Right. Well I’m currently packing all my books, clothes, whatever. If you could like, pull apart the table and chairs that would be incredible.”

Van nodded and slid out of his jacket. He threw it down on top of a box and pushed up his sleeves before turning to the dining table. You could tell he was a little confused about where to start and what to do but you just watched as he pottered about. It was cute. His face quickly turned to a look of concentration as he sorted through the tool box you had beside it. He began to take out the screws in a chair bit by bit. It was only Ikea stuff so not too difficult.

Something about seeing him be so...domestic…caused memories of your relationship to resurface. Things that you’d not thought about in a long time, that were as good as buried in your mind, suddenly floated to the top.

Stunned at your own thoughts, you quickly shook yourself and moved to the corner where you had your phone plugged into the speakers on the floor. You clicked play on your spotify and looked over to Van who smiled once he heard the music start.

You and Van spent the next couple of hours singing and dancing while loading up boxes with possessions and bits of disassembled furniture. Goofing around together was fun and your worries seemed to fade away. And it was good to hear his singing voice again. Something you used to love was how he’d sing around the house or in the shower, or just specially to you. It was something that always made you felt comforted.

The packing was almost done and you both began to drag boxes outside and downstairs ready to be packed into your car. God knows how that was going to work either. You and Van were absolutely exhausted.

“How about I get us some drinks?” Van offered, leaning down with his hands on his knees to get his breath back.

“I love that idea. Bring them upstairs?”

Van nodded and you turned to go back up. You still had to pack the kitchen crockery in bubble wrap. You laughed to yourself as you heard Homesick playing from the speaker as you walked back through your door. Spotify must have gotten to the Catfish section of your songs list. You’d not listened to Catfish in ages; you had no reason to. It was kind of weird to listen to your ex’s band? But you’d forgotten how good they were and how catchy the songs were too. You began to throw yourself around not dissimilarly to how Van would, singing along to his lyrics as well.

By the time Van came back carrying a tray of cold, icy ciders you were swaying your hips to the beat of Cocoon and singing along loudly as you rolled a mug up in bubble wrap, unaware that he had returned and was staring at you from the doorway.

“Well, that’s the cutest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever seen,” Van grinned once the song had finished, making you jump with fright.

“Jesus…lucky I didn’t drop that,” you hissed and your cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

He looked at the mug and cringed before mouthing ‘sorry’. Van placed the tray down on the kitchen bench then handed you a cider.

“And not to be ‘that guy’ but you were singin’ the words wrong,” he laughed, his voice laced with smugness.

“Well sorrrryyy, bit out of practice. Been a while since I’ve been to a show, see,” you teased with an eye roll.

“You should come to the next one we have around here, I’ll put you on the list.”

Silence fell between you and Van as you gulped down your drinks, refreshed by the coldness of the liquid after your hard work. You met Van’s gaze and he held eye contact for a little too long. He placed his drink down and leant against the counter.

“Look y/n, I was goin’ to say it before but chickened out. I know I said I’ll wait, but it’s killin’ me. I need to know. Will you be with me?”

Van’s sudden admission floored you. Your eyes opened wide and your jaw dropped slightly. You must have looked as though you’d just seen a ghost.

“I don’t know Van,” you whispered. His face fell.

He took the cider glass from your hand putting it with his and stood close to you, placing a hand on your waist. You wriggled out of his grip and crumpled down to the floor with your back against the cupboard beneath the sink. You sat with your knees to your chest, like a child.

You knew, deep down, that your feelings for Van were there. That they’d laid dormant for a long time. If you’d never seen him again after your breakup, you could have gone your whole life without ever thinking of them. But you hadn’t; yours and Van’s lives kept overlapping and you were brought together again and again. Apart from that having to mean something, it awoke the feelings for him that you’d forgotten and then desperately tried to ignore.

“I don’t know,” you repeated.

Van fell to his knees in front of you and placed both hands on your legs.

“What do I do, y/n?” he pleaded, looking broken.

You wanted to be with Van, you did. In that moment you decided you did, theoretically. But this was not a fantasy. This was real life. The life that had driven you apart before. The life that had become so hard to deal with apart from each other for months on end. How could it work when you’d tried before and knew you were doomed to fail? You didn’t want to be heartbroken over Van McCann yet again.

You didn’t altogether understand his feelings for you either. Why and how had he so suddenly gone from being your friend, to wanting you back so desperately he’d beg? All of these thoughts and questions scared you.

“You need to leave Van,” you said suddenly, pushing him away.

Van’s face contorted into an expression of pain and confusion. He tried to pull you close again but when you wouldn’t budge, he stood up and went to take his coat. You felt sick to the stomach and couldn’t look at him, you knew you were being cruel.

“Call me if you change your mind,” he said solemnly before disappearing out your door, letting it slam behind him.

You threw yourself down on your bed that was now a mattress on the floor and let out an ocean of tears. What the fuck were you doing. You were so angry with yourself and you genuinely didn’t know what to do. Torn between hiding from potential heartbreak or just saying ‘fuck it’ and giving in.

In an attempt to distract yourself, you finished off the last bits of packing. You were staying with a friend for a few days until you could move into the new place. At least that was one thing sorted. Next, you returned the glasses and half-drunk ciders to the pub, sticking around to chat with the bartenders for a bit.

But of course, the distractions weren’t working. Back in your room, you sat down on your bed legs crossed and lip nervously bitten between your teeth. Your phone lay on the duvet at your feet and you stared at it for a long time. You weren’t sure how long; could have been minutes, could have been hours. ‘Call me if you change your mind’, Van had said. The problem was that you couldn’t make it up in the first place. With a rough groan, you pushed the phone away and flopped down onto your back, throwing your hands over your face.

After a moment, you picked up your phone and clicked back into spotify. Van’s voice echoed out of the speakers once again, hitting you right in the chest. What if he had been right when he’d said that maybe you’d fucked up by ending things? What if it worked this time? You had a home and a stable job now. He was used to his lifestyle, he’d grown up. Things were different, as much as you tried to tell yourself they weren’t.

Your mind tracked over the last year, to all the moments where you and Van had been pulled back together. You couldn’t explain it, but it felt right and you’d always known it. No matter where you were or who you were with, Van was what lay at the bottom of it all. Whether that was getting you home safely after one too many, shaking hands with your shitty ex-boyfriend when he shouldn’t have had to, or being your rock in a time of need. Not to mention all the drinks and laughs in between.

You loved Van. You didn’t want to be without him.

In a blind panic and rush of urgency, you grabbed your phone once again and shakily stopped the music before finding Van’s contact and pressing ‘call’. Your heart was beating rapidly and your skin began to turn clammy. Your breath caught in your throat more and more with each passing dial tone.

“Y/n?”

You froze. This should have been the simplest of calls, but you had no idea where to begin.

“I…”

“I know,” he said softly. You let out a deep breath and rested your forehead in your hand. Tears began to spill from your eyes.

“I’m so sorry Van,” you cried into the phone. “I want you. And I need you, I wish I hadn’t ruined things.”

“You haven’t y/n. You haven’t at all,” he soothed.

Your heart rate began to slow at his words and Van let you calm down before he said anything else.

“I’m so fucking glad you called,” he admitted once you’d stopped crying. He sounded as relieved as you felt.

“Me too,” you whispered. You wish you could hold him right now, bury your face in his chest. Kiss him.

There were a few moments of silence between you. Neither of you were ever that good at talking on the phone anyway.

“God, it really does take us to the eleventh hour doesn’t it?” Van laughed in a tone of frustrated disbelief.

“Are you quoting the Bible?!”

“What? Just mean last minute…somethin’ Dad says.”

You chuckled and nodded, forgetting he couldn’t see. Your mind was in a dizzy haze from feeling too many different things at once. After listening to each other’s breath down the phone for a few seconds, Van spoke, his tone back to its usual bounce.

“Well shall I come over then? Get them boxes in the car?”

#van #van mccann #van mccann fanfiction #catfish #catb #Catfish and the Bottlemen #johnny bond #larry lau #fanfiction #fan fiction #fanfic #vanfic #VanFiction

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