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#music keeps playing and he starts sweating bullets

kokofromwattpad · 3 months

Note

PLS I BEG YOU CAN YOU DO LIKE THE READER (F!MC IF POSSIBLE) DANCING IN A BALLROOM TO

https://youtu.be/no7DZe2JXQY?si=YcjMhFkk5TobsYRn

THIS. WITH MALLEUS AND LEONA AND IDIA ANY CHARACTER YOU LIKE

I'VE BEEN LISTENING TO IT AND I'M VERY HIGH ON THAT VID I'M CRYING BDHDHDHDVDH

BALLROOM ENDEAVORS

Featuring: Leona Kingscholar, Idia Shroud and Malleus Draconia

Plot: When he finally plucks up the courage to ask you to dance, you accept and make the night much better than it originally was

Cw:She/they prefect, unestablished romantic relationship, Leona x reader, idia x reader, mallues x reader (all separate)

A/N: I CNA FINALLT JUMP

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR:

Leona grumbled as he adjusted his bow tie, holding a flute of champagne in the other hand. Leona had asked the prefect to be his date to a royal ball that his elder brother was hosting to show off the growing prosperity of Sunset Savanna. Leona was obligated to go as he was still a royal prince and needed to make sure that his reputation was still in tact afterwards.

Leona had asked the prefect, a close friend of his, to join him at the ball so that he would at least have someone he recognized there and to make sure that his brother would stop pestering hum about arranged marriage for atheist one night.

The lion beastman had insited that the prefect should go on ahead without him and socialize a bit for a while. He watched the prefect as they conversed with a cheetah beastman noble fluidly. Leona felt a pang of pride ring through his chest at the thought that he was the one who taught them how to speak in such a way.

Slowly, Leona's brother came up from behind him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Leona whipped his head to look at him in surprise.

"I've seen the way you've been looking at them all night Leona. Why don't you go ahead and ask them to dance."

Leona grumbled at his brother's words on distaste.

"Okay, come on, listen. I'll ask the musicians to play a slow song for you, okay? So go and dance with them!" The king persisted.

Leona gave in and shoved his half empty champagne flute into his brother's hands and stomped over to where the prefect was.

When he arrived by their side, Leona gently tugged on their shoulder to make them face his way. He gave a strained smile at the prefect's company and then made up an excuse to get them away from the other man.

Gently, the lion beastman tugged them onto the dance floor and gently held her waist as the music played. Throughout the dance, the prefect would stumble, accidently step on Leona's toes and would apologise relentlessly whenever they messed up.

Once Leona felt tired enough from her blabbering, he leaned in and gave her a soft peck on her nose. He smiled light heartedly and said in a gentle tone, "Don't worry about what the other stuffy nobles have to say. You're dancing with me, so keep your attention on me."

IDIA SHROUD:

Idia stood in the far corner of the ball room, swearing large bullets of sweat from the sheer nervousness he was currently feeling.

His date, the ever so amazing Ramshackle dorm prefect, was stood right next to him as to try and keep him company. Needless to say, he was extremely touched and grateful at her kindness.

Idia's parents were thrilled to finally meet one of their son's friends, knowing how judgemental and normie repulsed he was. So safe to say that the prefect had completely won the boy's parents.

A song in the ballroom started, and the prefect's head was knocked up by the sound. Idia noticed this and said in a soft tone, "You can go dance if you'd like..."

The prefect looked at him and then at the floor. "Nah, it's all good. I don't want to leave and make you even more uncomfortable than you already are."

Idia looked at them for a hot second before gently grabbing their wrist and pulling them to the centre of the ballroom.

The prefect panicked, looking at their friend for answers.

"I've recently made a vr dancing simulation. It would be worth it if I had some hands on references for new levels."

That was absolute bullshit.

But the prefect smiled heartedly anyways.

MALLEUS DRACONIA:

The fae prince had invited his ramshackle friend to ball that was held to celebrate his birthday. Malleus was being swamped by other fae nobles for the majority of the night.

Once he was able to escape the herd of people following his every move (including Sebek), he was crept outside to the gardens to take a look at the gargoyles that he had come to love when he was very little.

There he was his friend sitting on a white bench with a thin, wrapped parcel in their lap. They were looking up at a gargoyle that Malleus had showed them before the party had started.

The prince sat next to them and smiled at them kindly.

"Are you not cold child of man?"

The prefect looked at him with a tired smile.

"Yeah I am. Forgot to bring my jacket."

With that, Malleus pulled his jacket off his shoulders and draped it over the prefect's shoulders. Immediately, it seemed as if she melted into the warmth.

Loud music could still be heard from inside. When a new song came on, the prefect commented on how this was their faviroute song.

Malleus immediately stood up and gently lead them a bit farther away from the bench.

"Did you know that this song narrates the love story of a troubled romance that had ended with a marriage proposal?" Malleus stated as he twirled the prefect around.

The prefect giggled a, "No I did not."

Mallues smiled at their laugh, it was definitely intoxicating.

The prefect and Malleus seemed to be in almost perfect sync. Each step Malleus would take, the prefect followed suite. Each twirl and spin they did made the two of them miss and wonder what expression they had.

By the end of the song, the prefect was out of breath from dancing for such a long time and Malleus was smiling like a love stricken teenager.

#twst #twisted wonderland #Leona #Leona kingscholar #Leona twst #Leona x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #Idia #idia shroud #idia x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia twst #malleus #malleus draconia #malleus twst #malleus x reader #malleus draconia x reader #kokoscenarios #kokorequests

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papaver-decervicatus · 9 months

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tiktok keeps recommending me videos of bassists and I cannot stop thinking about julius because of you

First ask ever, let’s go!!! Let me, not at all, remedy this issue you’ve found yourself with, anon! Answer Below the 'read more'

Most of what Julius plays is in the safety and privacy of his own home, and it’s not a hobby he ever really brings up. If anyone knows about it and is egging him on to join a local bar-band while out, he has to be about 6 beers in to even entertain the idea. If the lights in the venue won’t blind him on the stage he does require being blindfolded for stage fright reasons.

He usually starts predictable and “universal” with something like Pink Floyd’s Money or Superstitious by Stevie Wonder, he’s always partial to a little Super Freak by Rick James, too. The sort of stuff you’d find on a ‘Top Ten Bass Lines of All Time!’ list because for the most part those are songs that are popular in their own right without the kick-ass (if a little sanitized) baseline. But that’s not where his heart is, his heart has always been with Heavy Metal (Metallica, Black Sabbath, for a more recent example see anything in the Doom Metal subculture/subgenre like Ramesses and Valhall) and Neue Duetsche Härte (think Oomph! and Rammestein.) And I’m not talking slipknot, Tin or Steel levels of metal, I mean straight up Mercury or Lead poisoning. The second song is always when things get interesting.

See, the funny thing about König playing the bass is, people hate playing in a band with him. Think about the phrase “take em for a walk,” when it comes to a musical breakdown, yeah well. König never got the memo that a bass is supposed to be a rhythm instrument first and foremost. He takes that puppy for a full on marathon sprint, shows off to the max, he’s playing the lead guitar’s part or the vocals half the time if he knows the song well enough. With his own personal double neck bass, Walküre (obligatory quick mention of @kneelingshadowsalome‘s series Valkyrie, go read it yesterday if you haven’t already) he is replacing the strings four times as often as he ought to because, as gentle and loving as he is with the instrument as a whole (he adores her, and is probably a few screws loosening away from sleeping in the same bad as the damn thing), his playing is naturally violent and bombastic to the point of shredding his fingers and the strings.

His style is something like this (Djent Style, a sub-genre of metal)

youtube

But he likes his kickback and reverb, way, way, way up. The only thing louder than the mess of pure sound coming from the amps is the barely-recognizable music notes cascading out. König doesn’t know what dynamics are, if he’s playing it, it’s gonna be loud, except of course, when the rest of the song gets quiet.

He usually finishes a set with something classic like Metallica’s Master of Puppets or 21st Century Schizoid Man by King Crimson because those are universals, everyone’s gonna know them. But if he’s feeling particularly pumped, in his element, or is that drunk, he’s playing a once in a lifetime rendition of Agent Orange by Sodom (because trash metal isn’t heavy metal, but it sure is fucking fun!)

The second he steps off the stage, however, he’s practically running away to get to the bathroom or a shower or something. König isn’t usually a sweaty guy, or at least not more so than any other man, but when he jumps off the stage he’s practically swimming in clammy anxiety and sweat. Finishing his little show and going back into the crowd is his least favorite part of the ordeal by far. It’s a dire tone shift once he’s finally gotten back to the people he came in with, from a heavy metal god that rivals the craftsmanship and raw power of Hephaestus or Vulcan to… demure and anxious Julius Doss, dodging praise like bullets on a battlefield. He would never admit it, but he absolutely adores the compliments and awestruck expressions he gets from his little displays of what remains of his teenaged exuberance and the blood hammering adrenaline of having everyone's attention on him (usually the very last thing he wants outside of the field.)

That being said, practically no one gets the privilege of seeing König on bass but when they do. God, do they fucking see it.

#navigation -> headcanon tag #könig #könig cod #könig mw2 #thank you so much for the ask! can you tell I have dabbled in bass?#also metalheads forgive me if i got stuff wrong i hope i did yall justice ily but i am not in that scene

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dragon-kazansky · 2 years

Text

In sickness and in health

Gender neutral reader

Doc Holliday x Reader

This didn’t come out exactly as I had intended it to, but I kind of like it. Opinions would be greatly appreciated though. This is my first time writing Doc Holliday. Just doing my bit to share some Val appreciation.

You made an oath and you would die by those words. Even if he would go before you.

♡♡♡

Sitting on the piano bench with your husband, you leaned into his side as his hands gracefully ran across the keys. The melody he was playing wasn't much of a happy one, but it was beautiful. John was pretty much playing with his eyes closed.

Your head settled against his shoulder, moving along with the motions of his arm. You could quite happily sit here and listen to him play for hours. In fact, the pair of you have been known to do that. Many nights have been spent with the pair of you at a piano, only to stop anytime Holliday needed a drink, or when the sun eventually rose.

Every so often John would cough. Small coughs that he often tried to contain. You would try not to fuss over him when it happened. It was hard though.

The doors open and you can hear heavy footsteps approaching the bar. You do not turn to look, lost in the notes of the piano. Doc plays a little more vigorously.

You shift your head slightly, chin resting upon his shoulder. His head leans close to yours slightly. You smile as you watch his fingers at work.

Footsteps come a little closer to the piano. A shiver runs down your spine. You don't get the sense that this is someone admiring the music. You keep your eyes locked on Doc's playing.

A cough. Not one of Holliday's sickly coughs. This cough was one asking for attention. Someone wanted you both to turn around and acknowledge them. Neither of you did.

"Stop that racket," a rough deep voice spat from behind you.

Doc Holliday played all the more.

"I said, stop!"

You give John's arm a squeeze. Doc, still playing wonderfully, turns his head to look up at the man over his shoulder.

"Would you mind terribly enjoying your drink elsewhere?" He asks the man. Doc had more than a few drinks in him, but that did not weigh on his remarks.

The man snarls as he pushes forward. You're quickly pulled away from your husband as he's grabbed by his clothes and pulled up to his feet.

"I said shut up," the man hissed. "No one wants to hear your misery."

Doc coughs as he looks the man in the eye. His lips curl into a smile, unfazed by the man's grip on him.

“Everyone was just fine. It is you has no appreciation for the finer things.”

“Shut. Up.”

“John...” You look at them worriedly.

“It’s quite alright, dear. I’m dandy,” your husband brushes your worry off. Still, you don’t any less concerned.

The pair look at each other for moment. The man glaring at Holliday. He eventually lets go, pushing Holliday down to the floor. As he steps back, you fall from the piano bench to kneel beside your husband, who only laughs as a result.

Sweat coats his face and he coughs again. You move to bring his upper half upright, getting him to sit up on his own. He lightly brushes away your worry again, which on makes you frown further.

“Why such a pout, my darling? Come, another drink.”

Holliday pushes himself up from the floor and makes his way to the bar. He’s a bit wobbly on his feet. You sigh and stand up, eyes catching the man before. He’s glaring at the Doc.

You’re not sure how many drinks John has, but it’s enough to cause trouble.

“You know, a man like you is far too out of place in an establishment such as this. Look at you,” he gestures to the man, hand moving lazily in the air. You come up beside him and take his hand in yours.

“John, please. Let’s go,” you plead.

“My dear, we are just getting started here.”

“I’d listen to your sweetheart if I were you, Doc,” the man spits. “I got a bullet here with your name on it otherwise.”

You give your husband a pleading look, but he looks past you at the other man.

“I would very much like to see you try,” he says.

You sigh. He won’t listen. Why won’t he listen? You step away, tears threatening to fall. He doesn’t spare you a glance as he keeps his eyes trained on the other man. You leave the bar.

The man laughs.

“You would rather a bullet than your sweetheart?”

Doc’s eyes twitch slightly.

“I did say I would like to see you try,” he says, hand already hovering over his hip. Finger at the ready.

The man pushes away from the bar and stands facing Holliday.

“Fool,” the man scoffs.

“Me a fool?”

“Letting your dear one walk out alone. Yeah. Fool.”

“Their wellbeing is not of your concern,” Holliday grinds his teeth slightly.

“Your wellbeing seems to have been their concern,” the man retorts.

Doc is done listening to this man talk about you. He draws his gun and shoots just past the man’s ear, hitting to board on the wall behind him. The man stares wide eyed and jaw on the floor. Holliday holsters his weapon, downs what is left of his drink, and grabs his hat which was sitting on the table you had both been occupying when you first arrived. Hat on head, he says nothing as he leaves.

John returns to the hotel just about able to walk in a straight line. You’re dressed down and in bed, but not asleep. His eyes watch you as he stands in the doorway for a moment. Your head is turned to the side, avoiding him at all costs.

Holliday tosses his hat off to the side and removes his coat, draping it over a chair by the door. He uses the heel of his boot to kick the door closed, undressing as he then approaches the bed.

He coughs. His coughs sound a little worse than before. You grip the bedding, forcing yourself not to worry over him. He won’t let you make a fuss over him.

As your husband climbs into bed, you turn your body away from him completely. You hear him sigh. You close your eyes right and try to will yourself not to cry.

An arm brushes along your back softly, slowly. His finger stroke along your arm. He goes to wrap his arm around you and bring you in closer to him, but you push his hand away and shuffle closer to the edge of the bed.

Doc stares at the back of your head longingly.

In the morning you woken by harsh coughing. You take a second to wake up properly before you realise where the coughing is coming from. You sit up and turn around quickly. John is sat up, handkerchief to his mouth. He’s sweating more profusely than last night. You push the bedding off your body and shuffle closer to your husband. Hand on his shoulder. His eyes look up to meet yours. They’re red. He looks tired. He looks more sickly.

You can’t stop the sob from escaping your lips.

“John...”

He doesn’t push you away this time. You take a deep breath and puff up his pillow before pushing him back down. You get up and grab your coat, putting your boots on. You don’t have time to get dressed properly. His coughing stops him from calling your name as you run out of the room. He knows where you’re going.

He didn’t want you to worry.

You return with a doctor in tow. His coughing isn’t as constant, but he still looks terrible. You stand by the door, unable to move any closer as the doctor looks him over. John lets the doctor work, but his eyes settle on you the entire time. You look like the very definition of heartache standing there.

The doctor finishes his examination and sighs, looking down at Holliday.

“You need plenty of rest. No more drinking. No more pushing yourself,” the doctor warns. He turns back to you and you show him out.

“How bad is it?” You ask, out of earshot from your husband.

“It’s not good. He’s getting worse. His time may be much shorter than we thought,” the doctor tells you. You don’t even say goodbye as he leaves. You try to control your breathing as you return to the room.

Your husband is laying just as you left him. His eyes finds yours when you close the door to the room behind you. You walk over and sit on the edge of the bed.

“Why do you do it?” You ask, voice soft and quiet.

“Do what?” He asks, tired eyes staring into your soul.

“Push yourself. Cause trouble. Make yourself worse?”

You feel his hand slide into yours. You take a hold of his hand.

“I’m on borrowed time as it is,” he says, voice steady, “why linger?”

You shake your head as you drop your gaze from his. You hold his hand a little tighter. John watches your heart break in front of him.

“Do I mean so little to you?” You ask.

“Whatever do you mean, darling?” He asks, his wit back in his tone.

“Don’t do that. Don’t try to be funny now. I married you because I love you, because you’re so dear to me. You’re the most important person in my life. I would do anything I could to keep you by my side forever, but you don’t even let me look after you. You said it yourself, you’re on borrowed time, so why won’t you spent that borrowed time with me? You’re getting worse, John. I could lose you at any point and I don’t want to spend what time you have left with distance between us. In sickness and in health, till death do us part. Well, it certainly will, much sooner if you keep carrying on.”

You look into his eyes and let him see what he’s doing to you.

“My love-”

“No, John. If this is how you want to spend the rest of your days, tell me now. I will pack my things and be gone before the day is out. I will not stand here and watch you kill yourself faster.”

His hold on your hand tightens and he tugs your arm down. You fall closer to him.

“I love you more than words can express. I, too, married you because I am in love with you, because you are the most dearest of people to me. I don’t want you to spend time worrying over me when there is nothing to be done. But if you think I will let some fool in bar bring me death, then you do not know me very well. I will not be leaving you by choice, my love.”

You fall against his chest and let go of his hand to cradle his face in your palms. His skin feels warm. He’s sticky with sweat. Yet, he’s still the most handsome devil you’ve ever met.

“Spend your days with me. I’m not ready to mourn you yet,” you ask, whispering your plea.

He reaches out and lets his fingers caress your cheek.

“To spend how ever many days I have left with you is all a dying man could ask for. I would be a fool to let you go, especially now. Forgive my nature.”

You smile softly and kiss his forehead gently.

“You better mean those word, John.”

He manages a charming smile for you.

“Till death do us part, darlin’.”

You sigh softly and climb back into bed. If he so much as thinks you’ll let him get up and go out, he had another thing coming. You would force him to rest if you had to.

John opens an arm up to you so you can lie down against him. You accept, wanting to hold him while you still could. You hoped you could wake up like this for many more mornings to come. You close your eyes and hold onto him. A soft kiss is pressed to the top of your head.

John Holliday knew one thing for certain as he held you against him then and there. He would die a happy man.

#doc holliday x reader #doc holliday #tombstone 1993 #val kilmer #val kilmer x reader

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zolwbozydar · 2 years

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so since @bitchthemed tagged me on her post i guess im coming back from my hiatus for a sec to list my six albums ive been listening to a lot lately. ive allowed myself to only list one album from each performer as to not embarrass myself too gravely. hdsbhds. still embarrassing myself here because i dont have that much of a diverse or interesting taste

1. Because the Internet by Childish Gambino

(sorry that the gif is so small compared to the other album covers btw. i just wanted it to be a gif and this one is of a satisfying quality) literally listened to it when i saw the email notif. what a great album istg. its really interesting musically, it has a particular plotline (that i sadly havent payed that much attention to that but im planning on focusing more on that in the meantime) and a lot of lore behind it and im so excited to dig into it. its really interesting considering Glover's acting / directing history (actually, interestingly enough, i started getting more interested in him as a musician only after watching Community, where he played). one of my friends got that cd as a birthday gift and since then i kinda went back to listen to this album more. its really, really interesting, both musically and lyrically. one of my favourite albums in general (although that will be a trend here. i keep on relistening to my fav albums these days)

2. Folié a deux by Fall Out Boy

i wore my folie a deux tshirt two days ago so i really really had to listen to it. it was my fav fob album back in middle school and man it still holds. makes me feel very. free and maybe angry but in that joyous way. more. energetic rather than angry i guess. it both reminds me of a particular time in my life and just sounds amazing. ive read a tumblr post abt it so im not gonna ask the question of why was it badly received back in its time but yeah i cant help but disagree with past fob fans. its. probably still my fav album of their? although its hard to decide. infinity on high and from under the cork tree are both similarly close to me (with a slight leaning to infinitys direction) and both could probably be on this list as well if not for my selecting choices

3. I Brought You My Bullets, You Brought Me Your Love by My Chemical Romance

sigh. is anyone surprised that mcr is here. i liked them for some time now (started during the first pandemic i think?) but since foundations of decay got released and they toured and their concert in my country was getting closer i started REALLY getting into them. like downright obssessing. bullets was the hardest to like as a newbie but over time it really really grew on me and ive come to appreciate it a lot. things that felt a bit too rough to me before have uncovered their beauty before me and the roughness feels appropriate considering the subject matter. it also has a couple of songs that feel really appropriate considering the teenage angst im going through these days. sidenote: other mcr albums that couldve been here are three cheers for sweet revenge and the black parade. man. beloved

4. Razzmatazz by I DONT KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

what a truly original sound. idkhow captured me by the. weirdness? the quirkiness of its topic, and as i was joyously singing along to songs about murderviolence and whatnot i was subtly dosed with an unimaginable amount of softness hiding beneath. truly a heartwrenching experience. its still a joyous listen and 80s (? im guessing. im not a musical genius, sadly.) vibes are. yesss

5. A Fever You Can't Sweat Out by Panic! At The Disco

yes i know panic just below idkhow is a pretty ironic choice. but we're not talking abt brendons endeavors here. that album is so beloved to me. i really like the. uhh. victorian aesthetic of it? sorry i have little to no idea what im talking about. i do like the aura it builds, a vibe. lyrically its a feast, i wish i could wield words like Ryan does. i used to hold a feeling of guilt related to this album (and mcrs three cheers for sweet revenge) because it reminded me of a person i hurt. i dont really feel that way anymore and i only feel excitement when i listen to it now. what an album!!!

6. Born To Die (The Paradise Edition) by Lana del Rey

so this one is a bit of a reach because i havent been listening to it that much that recently but i kinda mostly. listen to my biggest playlist on loop and also i didnt want it to just have fall out boy and my chemical romances discography in random order. anyways, i have a soft spot for this album. it reminds me of my childhood (oof thats a sentence) not because i relate to the experiences that much but rather because i listened to it a lot when i was like. twelve? thirteen? before you call social services, english isnt my first language and i didnt really. get that deep below the surface. i was just. noises nice d-_-b. anyways. yes yes i know problematic romanticising whatever. i like its main character okay? sometimes you just listen to a girl that is Unwell and you nod and say "so true bestie" despite not relating at all. say whatever you want about lana but this album is a vibe and it stays dedicated to it

uhhhhh i am now realising how long my post is compared to juleses. sowwwyyyyyyyy

im supposed to tag people but honestly i wouldve tagged only my dear mutual ania @dictatorgoddess69 and since prev post did that already its kinda. pointless (still tagging because idk. hope you dont kill me ania)

#please tell me its not too personal. i cant help but be talkative. im in a Place right now #this post is me coming out as having a basic music taste. apologies to anyone who wouldve thought otherwise #but if you thought otherwise you either dont know me well or are really blind and deaf socially. sorry

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nixll · 3 years

Text

venice for one

pairing : harry styles x reader

summary : after getting broken up with and struggling with your own insecurities, you make the split-second decision to take a solo trip to venice. you expect the week to be a fun-filled adventure, but when you accidentally have a run-in with a famous popstar, things don’t go quite as you expect them to.

word count : 9.5k

warning : smut, 18+

“you don’t ever do something just because it makes you feel good?”

paris for one by jojo moyes

The moment you step off the train and onto the platform, you feel a sudden urge to turn back around, toss your bags back on the bench you had been seated on, and make the same exact trip you had just taken again, only backwards this time.

Instead, you force your feet to take one step after another, your suitcase dragging noisily behind you against the concrete platform as you lug your tote bag higher up on your shoulder. In your hand is a note scribbled with the name of the bed and breakfast you booked yourself into, and directions written neatly with bullet points, but as you enter the city of Venice, Italy, you know finding the place you’re looking for is going to be much harder than you had first thought.

The city, as gorgeous as it is, is a slightly confusing maze of sidewalks and canals, and there’s people everywhere. The anxiety you had managed to push away when you got off the train is slowly returning as you look at your directions and attempt to find your way.

This trip had been a split-second decision, one made by your irrationally, heartbroken brain only a few hours after your boyfriend had dumped you. The breakup had come as a surprise to you, especially after many of your friends had brought up the idea of marriage after several years together, but your now ex-boyfriend had thought otherwise.

“You’re not the girl I fell in love with,” he had claimed in an uproar as he threw a suitcase together, “you’re not the fun, outgoing person I used to know.”

You had tried arguing against his claims, but it had done no good, and in the end, he had walked out with nothing more than a promise to come back to what had been your shared apartment to get the rest of his stuff over the next few days. When you called your friends to tell them what happened they had done their best to fill your head with encouraging words and stories about how you were still a fun person to be around, but the longer you thought about it, the more you realized your ex was right.

You weren’t the same person he had fallen in love with, and you hadn’t been that person in a long time. In some ways that was okay. You had fallen in love young and where you grew up, he still acted like the immature college student you had met years ago. He partied constantly, going out with friends at all hours of the night, and you honestly don’t remember the last time the two of you hung out somewhere other than the bar down the street. Nice restaurants had never been his thing, and in wanting to make him happy, you had never opted for anything but what he suggested.

You knew he wasn’t happy anymore, and neither were you. You were getting older and concerning yourself with your job and what your future looked like, not when the next time you could go for a cocktail hour was. You had settled into a routine for yourself, one that required no more effort than you needed, and in having that, your now ex-boyfriend decided you were a prude.

After a while, though, you wondered how much of what he had said to you was true. You don’t remember being much of a party girl when you were younger, but you definitely had your moments, and you definitely hadn’t had one of those moments in a long time. You knew if asked what word could describe you the best, adventurous or outgoing wouldn’t be the first word, or second or third to pop into anyone’s head, but maybe you wanted to be those things.

Maybe you wanted a stranger on the street to look at you and wonder what kind of adventures you had been on because just by looking at you, they can tell you know how to have a good time. Maybe you wanted to be that pretty girl in the room, the one that nobody could take their eyes off of.

Five hours after your relationship had ended, you decided you didn’t need your ex, but you did need a change of pace.

You were going to take a trip to Italy by yourself. You hadn’t told anybody, not even your friends, and had only left a brief voicemail to your workplace calling out sick for the rest of the week and no other explanation. It had taken you an hour to book all the tickets needed for travel and to find a place to stay that would take you with such little notice, but in practically no time at all, and with two haphazardly packed bags, you had been on your way to Italy for what you hoped would be a fun adventurous few days.

So far, the idea of a fun filled week had completely escaped your mind and your first day in Italy had started out with a drag.

You had yet to find the Bed & Breakfast you had booked yourself into, and with a sore shoulder from carrying your bag and your hand growing increasingly sweaty as you gripped onto your suitcase, you were beginning to think about what your best bet would be on getting home.

Not a single person you had managed to stop speaks English, and even after you show them the name of the place scribbled at the top of your sheet in Italian, nobody is seemingly able to help you. Venice is not the biggest city, and you remember briefly reading about how it is possible to walk the entire city in the matter of an hour. With a glance at the watch on your wrist, you’re ready to turn around and make your way back to the train station in the hopes of catching a ride back.

That’s when you spot it: the barely-there sign with a name on it that matches the one on your paper.

Vera Ospitalità.

It’s a cute little blue building, looking exactly like it did when you were Googling places to stay in Venice. It hadn’t cost very much, and the lady had sounded sweet over the phone when you asked how soon she would have a room open.

“We always have a room open, cara.”

You hadn’t quite understood what she meant at the time, but the sight of those two Italian words fill your body with a jittery joy as you let out a shout, catching the attention of a few people walking past you. You pay them no mind as you pick up the pace, not taking your eyes off the sign until you’re standing in front of the door and pushing it open.

The bell above lets out a delightful jingle as you walk in. You can only imagine what you look like to the lady sitting at the desk as you walk in with sweat dripping down your forehead and a slightly rumpled paper stuffed in your hand, but she offers you a cheerful smile.

“Are you Irene?” you ask, slightly out of breath as you step up to the desk, letting your bag fall from your shoulder. “We talked on the phone yesterday.”

“Yes! Hello, cara,” Irene says, standing from her seat and reaching for the guestbook she keeps under the counter. “I am happy to see you made it. How was your trip?”

You smile, trying not to think about the want to turn back around and head home you felt only minutes ago. “It was good! Happy to finally be here.”

“Oh, yes, yes. Just sign these forms and I will get you your key.” Irene pushes the book your way and you easily sign your name on the dotted line. “There is only one bathroom upstairs, but you get the room directly across from it.”

Your head snaps up from the book. “One bathroom?”

“Yes,” Irene nods, “but it has a tub, and the water runs perfectly. And there is only one other guest staying here this week, so there should be no trouble.”

“There’s only two of us here?”

Irene pauses. “You ask many questions.”

You offer a sheepish smile. “Sorry.”

“There is a young man staying here also, about your age. I only have four rooms and I don’t get many guests.”

You briefly wonder if you should have chosen a slightly more expensive place to stay, but your expectations hadn’t been very high coming in and how bad can it be when there are only two of you staying?

Irene hands over your key, directing you up the stairs to where your room waits for you. “Breakfast is served at 7 if you would like some, otherwise I have a list of places around the city you can visit.”

You give Irene one last thank you before you’re heading up the stairs, your suitcase and bag in hand. Your room is immediately at the top to your right, with the door across from yours labeled bagno with a cute little wooden sign. There are two more rooms a little further down the hall, and then one at the very end with the door open enough for you to glance inside.

There’s music playing – something you’ve heard on the radio a million times before but can’t remember the name of – and you can make out the silhouette of someone sitting at a small desk next to a window. With the way the setting sun is shining through, you can’t make out any of the figure’s features, but you know that this is the man Irene mentioned downstairs.

You wave a hand. “Hi.”

You can see him turn his head, but can’t make out any features still, nor an expression, as he stands and shuts the door without a second thought.

You frown, deciding not to dwell on it as you unlock your room and step inside. It’s small, and you know your friends would try and make it sound better by calling it quaint, but you decide that it’s not any more or any less than you need for the week. There’s a small desk and dresser off to the side, and a twin size bed with a side table sitting next to the headboard. The sight of the small, but very neat room is comforting after the mix of emotions you’d spent your afternoon with, and you find yourself wanting to just fall against the comforter and end your day there.

So, you do, quickly changing into your sleep clothes and doing your nightly routine, you let all the anxiety and the interaction with the man down the hall fall from your mind as you slip under the covers and rest your head against the pillow. It’s early, but you figure you’ve had enough adventure for the day. Plus, you still have the next few days left to spend in the city.

Sleep comes easy to you, so easy that you’re shocked awake the next morning at the sound of loud footsteps coming down the hall, and then a slam of a door. Lifting up from your bed, you glance at the clock on the table next to you and let out a small groan. You hadn’t been planning on taking up Irene’s offer of breakfast at 7, but now that you were awake you figured you might as well do exactly that. The grumble your stomach lets out seems to further settle the idea to get ready and go downstairs into your head.

The banging across the hall continues, and you know the sound belongs to the man from down the hall. Not wanting another interaction like the day before you decide to wait for the sound of the door opening and steps retreating down the hall, knowing the man has returned to his own room before you head into the bathroom with your things to get ready. You throw on a simple outfit for the day, doing all your daily necessities. The smell of cologne fills the small space, and normally it would be something that would irritate you – someone else treating a space as only their own with no other thought of anyone else who might occupy it – but the scent is pleasant enough and you decide to leave it be. When you’re done, you listen again for the sound of footsteps, but there are none.

Opening the door, you peak down the hall. The door at the end is shut, but you still cross the space to your room quicker than normal, opening the door and slipping inside. Just as you grab your shoes and anything else you plan to use throughout the day, your phone finding its spot in your pocket, you hear a door open again. You listen quietly as the man moves down the hall to the stairs, only slipping into the hallway when you know you won’t run into him. He’s already disappeared into the front room when you yourself reach the stairs and start the trek down.

When you reach the bottom floor, Irene stands just across the room in what you realize is the dining area. There’s a jingling as the front door opens, and you look over just in time to see a head of dark brown hair escaping through the entrance.

There’s something odd about you and this stranger avoiding each other, but you don’t let it cloud your thoughts. You don’t even know the man, and don’t have any care to get to know him.

Irene spots you lingering by the stairs and waves you over. “Have you met the other guest yet?”

You smile as you walk over to sit at the table situated in the room. The space isn’t very large, only big enough to hold the essentials of a kitchen and a table that seats six, but the feel of it all is very intimate. It also smells terrific, the smell of sausage and pastries filling the room. You’re suddenly grateful that you chose this place over any of the others, weird neighbors be damned.

“He’s nice, is he not?”

You purse your lips as Irene places a plate loaded to the brim with various breakfast items. The sight makes your stomach grumble again and you laugh in an attempt to conceal it. “I haven’t exactly met him yet.”

Irene frowns. “You haven’t?” She tsks. “He’s very friendly, but he never eats breakfast here.”

“Never?” You glance up from your plate. “How long has he been here?”

“Only few days, but he comes once a year and stays here rather than big fancy hotel.”

You nod, taking a bite of the croissant on your plate. You close your eyes giving a small hum of pleasure at the taste of the buttery pastry. “He’s missing out.”

“You’ll meet him soon enough, I think.” Irene waves her hand around as she takes her own seat, carefully digging into her own plate of food.

You continue breakfast with polite conversation. Irene asks why you decided to come to Italy, and you fib your answer a little, explaining it was just a need to get away for a bit. It wasn’t entirely inaccurate, but you weren’t sure if you wanted to reopen the fresh wound that was your current relationship status.

When you’re done, you bid Irene farewell for the day and head out on your own. The sun is warm as it beams down on your face, the air slightly cool from the canals. You plan to just walk around the city for most of the day, not having much else to do until the afternoon when the gallery you had opted to go to opens.

For a few hours you simply meander around the city, stepping into shops with clothes that cost far too much money, but you try them on anyway. You find a nice place for lunch, deciding you’ll come back to try something else for dinner after the gallery. The day all goes fairly quick, but you head back to Vera Ospitalità with a grin permanently etched into your features.

Irene is not at the front desk when you walk in. It’s getting fairly late in the day and after the large and filling meal you had chosen to eat for dinner, you decide that you’ll end your day with a nice bath and then head to bed, excited for the boat ride you had booked for the next day.

That plan is immediately foiled when you climb the stairs and hear the shower already running. You don’t have any idea how long it’s been occupied, but you figure he has to be done sometime soon and choose to wait in your room until he is.

Fifteen minutes pass before you realize it, and the shower is still going. It occurs to you that all of the hot water must be gone now and you feel a bit frustrated at your thought of a nice night being ruined by a man who doesn’t know how to shower quickly. Trying not to let your frustration get the best of you, you snatch up your towel and storm out of your room to stand in front of the door across from you. There’s some steam coming from the crack between the door and the floor, but you ignore it as you knock on the door.

There’s a noise that sounds something like a grunt, and then the shower shuts off. You listen to shuffling, a rumple of clothes, and then the door swings open and there, for the first time since you arrived in the tiny hotel, you finally come face to face with the stranger who’s been living down the hall from your room. It suddenly hits you why he had been so eager to avoid you the day before and ;told you that he must’ve been trying to avoid you this morning too, obviously trying not to make his presence known.

Harry Styles stands in front of you in a pair of loose shorts with a towel hanging from his hand, his hair dripping down onto his forehead. His tattoos are on full display, the pair of ferns peaking up from his waistband, and his skin is glistening from all the water he hadn’t been given the chance to properly wipe off. Steam pours out through the doorway and the sudden heat of it sends a shiver down your spine.

You don’t realize you’re staring until your eyes meet his and he cocks a brow. “You’re not going to be a creep and ask me for a photo, are you?”

His tone is dangerous, and he’s got an accusatory look plastered on his face. It makes something in you want to snap back, that anger from not being able to take a bath like you wanted still lingering a bit, but instead you stand there, trying to think of the best words to say back to the man in front of you who clearly thinks you’re here for something other than a nice vacation. Every possible thing you had wanted to say before the door had opened has suddenly disappeared from your brain, only to be replaced with the slight shock of your current situation. Your mouth opens and snaps closed one time, then again, as the words you want to say struggle to fall from your mouth.

Eventually, you hold up your towel.

Harry’s head tilts to the side, his gaze curious. “So, you’re not just renting the crappiest hotel in the entire city in order to get some sort of insider photos?”

You frown, the shakiness you had felt disappearing as you think about Irene and her hospitality. “It’s not a crappy hotel.”

Harry smiles, but you’re sure it’s just because he’s amused and not because you’re doing a nice thing by defending Irene. “No, but it sure isn’t popular and nobody ever comes here. I’m always by myself when I come – Irene makes sure of it.”

You remember what Irene had told your over the phone when you asked about booking.

We always have a room open.

You purse your lips and try holding your head a little higher. “I’m not some crazed fan. I’m just here for a nice vacation.”

Harry looks you over. “Nice vacation? You don’t seem like the type.”

“It…” You stumble over what to say, trying to get a grip on the current situation you’re in with a half-naked famous popstar standing in front of you. He leans against the doorway, an arm propped against his head, and you swallow. “It was spontaneous.”

Harry chuckles, shaking his head. “You still don’t seem like the type.”

“You don’t know me,” you manage to say, feeling slightly offended by his words, but Harry just grins.

“And I don’t care to.” He claps his hands together, the sound muffled by the towel still gripped in his hand. “Pleasantries aside, I’d appreciate if you didn’t interrupt my shower next time, and also if you continued to not take photos of me whatsoever.”

You open your mouth to reply, but Harry has already pushed himself off the doorway and is marching down the hall before you can even think of what to say back to him. He doesn’t even bother turning back to look at you, just walks into the room and slams the door shut.

You wince at the sound, trying to still get a grip at what just occurred. You step into the still hot bathroom with its steamed-up mirror and slightly wet floor, but you disregard it as you move to the tub. You turn the handle for the hot water and aren’t surprised to find that it’s ice cold. You let it run for a minute, trying to see if it’ll warm up even the slightest, but you give up and shut it off when it remains cold.

You realize that not only had Harry left you with no hot water to take a shower in, but he also hadn’t bothered to ask for your name. When your head hits the pillow minutes later, choosing just to settle in for the night, you let the exhaustion of the day wash over you and fall asleep easily, though the irritation with Harry settles in well into the early morning.

Your alarm goes off early after a couple of hours, waking you up well before you know Harry will be awake. You quickly gather up your clothes and head to the bathroom, turning on the shower and hopping in before another second passes.

You take your time getting ready, lingering under the hot water for as long as you can before getting out and slowly going over each of your tasks in your morning ritual. You’re in the middle of finishing up your hair when there’s a knock on the door.

“Yes?” you call out, already knowing it couldn’t be anybody but your neighbor down the hall.

“It’s Harry,” he says, muffled through the door. It occurs to you that he never actually told you his name the night before, but you know he’s assumed you already knew who he was before. He wouldn’t be entirely wrong in that assumption. “Are you almost done?”

You grin at the turn of events. “Almost.”

It’s another ten minutes before you’re done. You had expected Harry to have turned around and headed back to his own room to wait, something you would have done if you had been in his place, but when you open the door he’s standing there across the hall, leaning against the wall next to your own room. It takes you by surprise, seeing him standing there. He’s already dressed for the day, a nice, knitted shirt on with brown shorts to match and checkered vans decorating his feet. The only thing out of place is his hair, still a mess of curls from where he hadn’t had the chance to comb them down yet.

You offer a smile as you step out of the bathroom. “All yours.”

Harry has a sour expression on his face as you pass by to get into your room. You don’t bother giving him any more attention than that, though, not keen on him accusing you of anything else.

At 7 you head downstairs. Irene is already settled into the kitchen with a plate full of food waiting for you. She smiles when she spots you. “Sleep well?”

You nod. “Finally met Harry.”

“Oh, Harry!” Irene claps her hands together. “Isn’t he so lovely?”

You hum in response. “Lovely,” you try to hide the sarcasm in your voice, “that is definitely the word I would use.”

Irene’s eyes flicker behind you, and she brightens at the sight of Harry coming down the stairs. “There he is! Harry, come have breakfast.”

Harry appears, hair now perfectly in place, walking around the table to greet Irene with a hello and a kiss to her cheek. “Can’t, love. Have places to be.”

“Oh, stay for a bit. It’s too early to have anywhere important to be. Talk with us,” Irene urges, gesturing to you already seated at the table.

You give an exaggerated nod. “Yeah, talk to us, Harry.”

Harry forces a smile onto his face. “Only for a bit, yeah?”

Your frown is immediate as Harry takes the seat across from you. You had remembered what Irene had said the day before, about Harry never joining her for breakfast, and that had led you to expect him to decline Irene’s offer and head out for the day, but now you were stuck with him sitting there in front of you.

“What are the plans for today?” Irene asks, seemingly unaware of the tension at the table.

Harry gives her a genuine smile as he steals a roll from the plate she had placed in the middle of the table and takes a bite. “Goin’ to wander the city a bit, might take a nice boat ride.”

“I’m doing a boat ride too,” you chime in. The look Harry throws you is something similar to a glare, but you just smile, knowing you managed to get under his skin already this morning before he had even tried to touch yours.

The rest of the conversation is tense, with Irene staying blissfully unaware to the dirty looks you and Harry throw at each other. A part of you wonders how you can act like this with a complete stranger, but when you accidentally kick his shin under the table, and Harry returns a swift kick of his own, the thought is completely overshadowed by the irritation you feel when you look at him.

When Harry finishes his roll a few minutes later, he delivers a quick peck to Irene’s cheek and heads out, offering no goodbye to you. When he’s gone, you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you had been holding and stand from your chair.

“Thank you for breakfast, Irene.” You make to move for the stairs, planning to take a little time to yourself before your planned boat ride later, but Irene stops you.

“He is better once you get used to him,” she tells you.

Your nose crinkles at that, wondering how much she actually had caught on to when it came to you and Harry. “I just think he doesn’t like me very much.”

She waves her hand. “He did not like me very much at first either, but he warms up in time.”

With a final nod, you head upstairs. The hours pass quickly as you find random things to do – playing games on your phone, reading a book. You had briefly wondered about calling your friends back home, curious if they had thought about you since you had last spoke to them, but you eventually decide against it when it’s time to head out for your boat ride.

The air is warm when you step outside, and the place where you’re supposed to go is only just down the block. There’s a delightful breeze that blows through your hair as you walk down the sidewalk, admiring the city as it moves through its daily ventures. You reach the dock you need to go to much easier than you had the Bed & Breakfast, but your stomach immediately drops as soon as you step on the pier.

Harry is standing with who you assume is the skipper of the boat you’ll be on. He has an impatient look on his face and his arms are crossed as he taps his foot against the wooden planks. When he spots you walking down the pier, a look of realization crosses his features.

“You’re going on a boat ride?” he asks, his brows raised above the rim of his sunglasses. “This boat ride?”

You look at the skipper and give a not-so-confident nod.

“Ah! You’re the girl who booked me so late the other day!” he announces almost proudly, and you offer an apologetic smile, choosing to ignore a clearly frustrated Harry.

“I’m so sorry about all that, it was so last minute—”

“Do not worry, darling. It seems to be my fault.” He gestures between you and Harry. “I seem to have made the mistake and made a double booking on accident. Either the two of you may ride the boat together and I’ll give half off, or one of you can leave and I’ll give full refund. I am booked full rest of day.”

You can feel Harry glaring at you through his glasses. “I’m not giving this up,” you tell him, feeling your own irritation grow at the sight of his.

“Well, neither am I.”

The skipper glances between the two of you before giving a delightful shout. “Two of you it will be! Let’s get going.”

You and Harry give the same exasperated look to the skipper, but he’s already climbing on the small speed boat, waving for you to follow.

Harry looks to you. “Ladies first.”

You don’t bother with a thank you as you climb onto the boat, Harry not far behind, and find a seat on the small bench available. With no other place to sit, Harry is forced to sit next to you on the bench clearly fit to hold two people intimately. Neither of you say anything as the skipper starts the engine and pulls away from the pier and into the lagoon you were meant to be traveling.

For a moment, you regret not just walking away and letting Harry have the boat ride to himself. You can’t imagine being able to enjoy it when he won’t even look at you even though his shoulder and thigh are flush against your own as you both attempt to fit on the bench. You still want to make the most of it, so you turn to look at Harry, deciding to attempt to show some of the same hospitality you had been experiencing so much of in Italy

“Do people really stay in the same hotels as you to get photos?”

“What?” His sunglasses have fallen slightly down his nose, and his eyes are visible just over the rim.

You swallow down any frustrating feelings you might have against Harry right now. “Last night, you accused me of being in the B&B so I could get a photo of you—”

“Sorry about that,” Harry mumbles out, pushing his glasses back in place. “Shouldn’t have come at you so quick.”

You can tell that some of the tension has left his body and that makes you feel a bit better about being stuck with him now. “Do people really do that, though?”

You wish he had taken the glasses off now, just so you could see the expression hidden behind them. You can’t tell what he’s thinking with his eyes hidden behind the dark rims.

“I’ve been doing this for over ten years,” he finally says, “I’ve had people break into my home, fans have snuck into my tour bus, and I’ve been chased down the street. You checking into the same place I am staying, a place that is normally empty year-round, and trying to snap a cheeky photo would not surprise me in the slightest.”

You suck in a breath. “I’m not going to do that.”

“I see that now.” Harry smiles as he stands up and leans against the boat, looking out over the water. You look over the design on the back of his shirt, the image of a horse clearly visible. “Sorry for using up all the hot water last night.”

Your eyes flit to the skipper standing at the wheel, but he pays neither of you any attention as he hums to himself. “It’s okay.”

“Also sorry for not asking for your name since you clearly already know mine.” He looks back over his shoulder at you. “So, what is it?”

“What?”

A smile. “Your name, love.”

“Oh.” You give up your name, falling from your lips as you remember the bit of hurt you felt the night before upon realizing he hadn’t asked for it then. It had been a strange feeling, wanting a complete stranger to know your name. especially when you and said stranger hadn’t gotten on so well, but now that he had asked for it you felt a sense of accomplishment.

Harry repeats it, his accent lilting something sweet. “S’a lovely name.”

He’s still looking at you when you say nothing, and it leaves you with a strange feeling. You try to think of what to say next, and when it comes to you, you almost laugh.

You hold out your hand. “Truce?”

The smile Harry gives you takes up the entirety of his face, dimples proudly displayed on his cheeks. He takes your hand in his own, his palm warm in yours. “Truce,” he confirms.

A comfortable silence falls between the two of you for the rest of the ride, only interrupted by the sounds of the boat on the water and the skipper’s humming. Even with all your misadventures, you couldn’t deny that the city of Venice was gorgeous. And in some way, everything had seemed to work out for you so far, even creating something that resembled the beginnings of a friendship with Harry after a rough start.

When the boat pulls up to the pier, you realize that you feel more comfortable around Harry. No longer does he intimidate you like he had when you first laid eyes on him, but rather you feel easier with him, like you’re able to strike a conversation with him with no worries at all.

So, you do try to talk to him as you step off the boat, but he apparently had the same thought and the two of you laugh as you talk over each other.

“You first,” you tell him, biting your lip to hide your smile.

“I, uh,” Harry stutters over his words as he removes his glasses, looking up and down the pier to keep his eyes on something other than you. “I was just going to ask if you had eaten lunch already.”

“I think it’s well past lunch time.” You look down at the watch adorning your wrist. “But no, I only ate breakfast.”

Harry’s eyes flash to you, and the green of them is startling under the sunlight. “Would you like to go for a late lunch?”

You much prefer this friendly Harry to the one you had first been introduced to, and you understand that there’s a garner of trust between the two of you now. “I’d love to.”

Harry leads you down the pier and back onto the concrete sidewalks around Venice. It’s settling well into the afternoon, the sun beginning to drift just below the tops of the buildings around the city. You don’t bother asking where you’re heading off to, trusting that Harry will have a great choice in wherever you go.

Eventually, after walking a few blocks, still basking in that comfortable silence from the boat, Harry stops at a door with a sign overhead that you don’t understand. He opens the door and waves you in.

The moment you step inside, you’re hit with the smell of pasta and bread hitting your nose. You breathe it in deep and the hostess at the front smiles as she watches you do so.

“First time?” she asks, her accent thick.

You nod, jumping a little when Harry appears next to you and places his hand on your arm.

“This is one of my favorite places,” he tells you, gesturing with two fingers to the hostess. “They have the best spaghetti.”

The place isn’t as packed as you would expect it to be, most likely because of your arrival between lunch and dinner, but there’s still enough people for it to feel a bit crowded. The hostess walks you over to a booth in the corner, a bit hidden away from the other patrons in the restaurant, and you know it’s because of who you’re with.

The popstar in question sits across from you but doesn’t bother grabbing a menu for himself. “Wine okay with you?”

You nod and wait for the waitress to come over. When she does, offering up her name in a sweet lilting accent, Harry orders the wine and you give a thankful nod as she walks away before turning back to Harry. “So, the spaghetti?”

Harry lets out a low moan. “It’s the best. I come here every time I visit. Practically a regular when I’m in Italy.”

“It’s that good?”

“Better than good.”

You leave your menu resting in front of you, untouched until the waitress returns with a jug of wine and two glasses. She hands one off to each of you before topping them off with the jug.

“Your usual, Mr. Styles?”

The question sends Harry beaming. “Please. And she’ll have the same,” he gestures to you, and you give a soft confirmation.

Once the waitress has left, Harry takes a long sip of his wine before clapping his hands together. “So, what brings you to Italy?”

This Harry sitting in front of you is much different than the one you had met face to face for the first time the night before. There’s something softer about him, as if the edge was taken off the moment he put his hand in yours earlier. You like this Harry more, you think, with his giddy smile and soft giggle.

You remember how you had lied to Irene when she had asked you why you had traveled to Italy, but something tells you not to do that with Harry. “My boyfriend dumped me.”

Harry’s face drops, an apology on the tip of his tongue, but you wave a hand in front of you before he can get it out.

“I’m already over it, but there were some things he said that made me rethink a lot of stuff.”

“Like what?” His gaze is curious, and it makes you want to tell him everything going on in your brain, how you’re still upset and hurt, but want to feel free while you still have the time to here in Italy.

Instead, you sugarcoat it a little. “Just stuff about how he missed the girl I used to be – more fun and care-free.”

“Are you not that girl?”

You shrug, your hand playing with the stem of your wine glass before you lift it to take a sip. “I don’t know, but I liked the sound of being adventurous and doing something unexpected so—”

“So, you booked a trip to Italy?” Harry grins. “That’s quite impressive.”

“What is?”

“Deciding to just up and go to a different country for no other reason than you want to. I think you’re a bit more outgoing than your boyfriend gives you credit for.”

You scrunch up your nose. “Ex-boyfriend.”

Harry smiles into his glass. “Right. Ex-boyfriend.”

Your food arrives not long after that, two giant plates of spaghetti with pieces of garlic bread on the side. Harry laughs at your surprised expression at the sight of the amount of food now sitting in front of you.

“You didn’t tell me we were going to feed an army.”

Harry picks up his fork, stabbing it into the noodles and twisting it around. “Try it.”

You follow his lead, picking up your own fork. When you take a bite of the pasta, you shut your eyes as the taste coats your mouth. “Oh my god.”

“I told you.”

The two of you eat practically in silence, savoring the taste of your meal and not letting the flow of conversation interrupt your eating. Neither of you finish your plate, Harry coming much closer to doing so then you are and you’re left trying to finish the still half full jug of wine in the middle of the table.

You don’t know when you start feeling like telling Harry more about yourself, maybe after your third glass of wine, but eventually you’re telling him all about the fear you had of coming to Italy.

“What do you mean you almost didn’t come here?”

You giggle a little. “I stepped off the train and almost turned right back around to get on.”

“Why?”

You give an exaggerated shrug. “My own brain? I don’t know.” You look down at your glass of wine. “Sometimes I feel like everyone’s opinions of me are right, y’know? Maybe I am that girl that just doesn’t do anything except work and go home.”

“I get that feeling.”

Your eyes shoot up to look at Harry. “You do?”

Harry gives a lazy raise of his shoulders. “Of course. I have reporters and paparazzi up my ass at practically all hours of the day. Sometimes I wish I could scream at them that I’m not everything they think I am, nor do I want to be.”

You let out a snicker and Harry raises an eyebrow. “Sorry. I almost forgot I was sitting with a famous popstar.”

Harry groans, but there’s a playful look on his face as he wags a finger at you. “That’s cheeky.”

You decide to keep going, seeing how far you can push it. “My friends are going to love it when I tell them that I got to hang out with the Harry Styles. I’m pretty sure one of them used to have a poster of you in their bedroom.”

“Is that so?”

“Mhm. Another had the cardboard cutout.”

That sends Harry into a fit of giggles, causing you to follow his lead. You both are a little too tipsy by this point, and the jug is nearly finished.

It doesn’t occur to you how long you had been inside the restaurant until you walk outside and see that the sky has turned dark. The blocks are lit by streetlights, and under them Harry looks like something out of a dream. You don’t mean to lean into him as you walk back to the B&B, but you do so in order to try and keep your balance and Harry doesn’t seem to mind with the way he tosses his arm around your shoulders lazily.

“Tonight was fun,” he tells you, trying not to walk faster than you do. The position is hard to keep as you walk, but neither of you pull away. “’S been a while since I’ve done something with someone like this.”

You smile at his admission. “You mean you don’t go out somewhere with a complete stranger at least once a week?” You tsk. “You’ve gotta get out more, Mr. Styles.”

The B&B is quiet when you arrive back, and you feel like a teenager again as you sneak past the front desk and up the stairs, trying your best to keep quiet since you both know Irene has already gone off to bed. Your exe’s words briefly flit through your brain, and you wonder what he’d say if he saw you now – drunkenly stumbling around in a mysterious city with a man you’ve known barely longer than a day.

When your foot catches on a step, Harry is there behind you to steady you before you can fall forward. His hands catch your hips, helping keep your balance, but rather than it be something that would send your stomach in knots, the gesture makes you laugh out as you think about how funny it would have been to fall face first into the carpeted floor.

You clamp a hand over your mouth, staring behind at Harry who looks like he’s barely keeping himself from laughing. You maneuver your hand so it’s just your index finger pressed against your lips, a soft shhh falling past them. Harry nods, pretending to zip his lips shut and locking them, before throwing the pretend key over his shoulder. The action threatens to send you into another fit of giggles, but you manage to hold it in as you take the rest of the steps two at a time.

The boards creak beneath your feet as you walk to your door. Turning, you just about run into Harry, your hands flying up to press against his chest in an attempt to keep from stumbling into him.

“Sorry,” you stutter out, taking a step back and resting your back against your door. “Wine’s getting to me.”

Harry smiles, and in the barely-there light of the hallway, you think you can see something playful glittering in his eyes. “S’getting to me too.”

You suddenly remember the feel of his hands on your hips moments earlier, and the way he had kept his arm wrapped around you the whole way back. There’s that knot in your stomach that hadn’t appeared before, slowly making itself known now as you try to think of what to say next.

Harry speaks first, his voice low and his words slurred. “I had fun tonight.”

“So you said.”

“How long are you staying?”

The question takes you by surprise. “Tomorrow is my last full day. I leave the next morning.”

Harry looks a bit disappointed by that, but it’s quickly replaced by something else. “Y’know, I think I have a terrific way for you to prove to everyone when you go back that you still know how to have a good time.”

You swallow when Harry takes a step closer, your back pressing further into your door. “And what’s that?”

A smile, one that’s devious and just a little bit convincing, “Let me kiss you?

You bite your lip, trying to get ahold of the situation. This is not at all how you expected your vacation to go, but you can’t help but agree that it is the best way to prove to everyone and yourself that you’re not who they think you are.

You realize that this is it – your moment to prove to yourself that everyone else was wrong. How could you not be adventurous when you’re in a random country all by yourself, about to kiss a boy you’ve never met? That’s the perfect thing to do to prove everyone wrong.

And maybe there’s something in the way that Harry’s advances make you feel that adds to you giving a soft yes.

When Harry kisses you, it’s just as you would have imagined it. And then somehow, it’s more. His lips are soft against your own, the distant taste of strawberry chapstick and the wine from earlier lingering on them and you want to savor that taste, burn the memory of those flavors together into your brain. His hands find your hips again, pressing into them unlike he had earlier. There’s intention behind the grip, the promise of something more to come.

You clumsily reach for the doorknob behind you, not daring to move your lips away from Harry’s. The door falls open and almost takes you with it as you stumble back, barely catching yourself by gripping onto Harry’s shoulders. You press your mouth back to his, feeling like he could swallow you whole in that moment.

You reach blindly for the zipper on his shorts, your hand brushing over the tent forming there and causing Harry to let out a hiss at the friction. You smile against his mouth when he reaches down, taking the matter into his own hands and unzipping his shorts as he kicks off his shoes. You follow his lead and let your shoes meet his own in a pile on the floor. The pile only grows as you both precede to strip, and when you’re left staring at Harry’s naked body, a small gasp falls from your lips.

You reach out to run a hand across the butterfly inked into his stomach before letting it trial down to tease one of the ferns against his hip. You remember them from the night before, half concealed by the shorts he had kept on, but now having them on full display sendsa shudder through you.

“You’re pretty,” you tell him softly, and he laughs.

“So are you,” he replies, taking your face in his hands and kissing you, gently pushing you back onto your bed.

You had almost forgotten about the twin size bed in your room until you fall against it. You want to laugh at the size of it compared to your two bodies collapsing onto it, but Harry rests himself on top of you and attaches his mouth to your neck, sucking a deep mark into your skin.

One hand finds his hair, raking your fingers through it and tearing a groan from Harry’s chest, while the other scrapes at his back, your nails threatening to leave red scratches all over his skin. Harry lingers against your neck for only a moment before he’s trailing down your body, planting kisses against your skin as he goes.

When he reaches your hip, he digs his fingers into your stomach as he leaves a kiss in the curve there before he plants himself between your thighs. The bed is squeaking in protest to all of this movement, but it’s not bad enough for you to want to stop.

Harry kisses at your folds before bringing his fingers up to spread them. Both your hands are tangled in his curls now, tightening their hold as Harry’s tongue finds your clit. You squirm as he presses his mouth against you, coaxing a few moans from you before you remember that you’re not alone in the building.

“Harry,” you gasp out as your hips buck against his mouth, “the bed.”

You don’t think he hears you at first, the squeaking growing louder with each move he makes that causes your hips to come up off the mattress, but then his hands are under your thighs. Slowly, without moving his mouth away from you, Harry slides you off the bed. He meets the floor first, a bit more gracefully than you do as you slip off the bed and onto the floor. Harry laughs when you let out a yelp as your ass hits the carpeted floor.

You’re face to face with him now, and there’s slick covering his mouth. Without thinking, you grab his face and kiss him, letting your own taste wash over your tongue. Harry groans into your mouth, the vibration moving through your chest.

“I wanna taste you,” you tell him, but he shakes his head.

“Swear I won’t be able to hold it in much longer.” He’s breathing heavily and that only makes you smile something wicked that sends Harry’s brain into overload.

“Just a little taste,” you mutter before pushing at his chest so he falls back onto the carpet. You move between his legs like he had only minutes ago, your hand coming up to grip the base of his dick.

Harry lets out a hiss as you wrap your hand around him, giving a slow pump. When you lick the tip, though, he can barely hold back the moan he lets out and you laugh a little.

“Good?” you ask, taking him into your mouth finally and Harry feels like he’s slowly losing the will to function, wondering if he can even get the words out.

“Good, yeah. Yeah. S’good.”

You give him a few more pumps, moaning against him when he brings a hand up to wrap in your hair, but you don’t want him to lose control before he can get inside of you, so you restrain yourself and pull back.

Harry gives you a pitiful look when you pull away, only to be replaced with something much more eager when you begin to climb on top of him. He lays back against the carpet, grabbing your hips as you guide yourself onto his cock.

You both let out a mixture of sounds as you slide down onto him, letting yourself get used to the feel of it. After a minute, you rock back onto him, and Harry takes that as a good sign. Before you know it, he’s lifting his hips off the floor to fuck up into you, turning you into a whining mess as you chase your orgasm. The sound of skin on skin fills the room, and you’re sure that Irene must’ve heard you at this point, but you don’t care anymore as you press your hands down onto Harry’s stomach and try to meet the pace he’s set.

“Gonna cum,” he tells you, but you could already tell with the way his thrusts have become more frantic and sloppier. You can only nod, falling against his chest as you feel the beginnings of your own orgasm start to take over.

When yours hits, you cry out into Harry’s chest. Harry doesn’t stop, though, instead wrapping his arms around you as he chases his own. It only takes a couple more thrusts before he’s pulling out of you and moaning into your hair. You can feel the hot spurts hit your stomach, dripping down onto his due to your position. The two of you stay like that, his arms still wrapped tight around you, holding you to him.

“Harry?” you finally say after a few minutes of you trying to catch your breath. You can feel the effects of the wine from earlier still mixed with the aftermath of your orgasm, and it’s all making your brain feel a bit hazy.

“Yeah?”

You roll off of Harry, the heat of being pressed to him becoming a little too much, but he doesn’t let you go, and you find yourself laying sideways, Harry’s arms still wrapped around you as you lay face to face. “Do you usually fuck random strangers you barely know in Italy?”

Harry lets out a soft giggle, one of his hands beginning to rub at your back. “You’d be the first.”

You reach a hand up to run through his curls, pushing them back off his forehead. “Glad to know I’m not alone there,” you mumble. “So, what do we do now?”

Harry shrugs the best he can in his position on the floor. “We clean up, try to fit in your tiny bed, and figure it out in the morning?”

You hum in response. “I don’t think I can face Irene in the morning.”

“Oh, that woman sleeps like the dead. N’way she heard.”

“Still.”

Harry thinks for a moment. “How about I go downstairs in the morning, grab us some of Irene’s lovely breakfast, and convince her to go out for the day so you can be free of the embarrassment of her hearing us having really amazing vacation sex?”

You roll your eyes. “Then it’ll be obvious what we’re doing.”

“Yes, but I think Irene would appreciate the heads up before she’s wondering why the boards are creaking so badly the whole day.”

You smack your hand against Harry’s chest and a laugh bubbles up from it. “Are you saying you’re going to have me spend my last day in Italy locked away in a bedroom getting my guts rearranged?”

“That’s one way to describe it,” he laughs.

You hum again. “Y’know, I thought I hated you this morning.”

“That was kinda evident by the way you kicked me under the table at breakfast.”

You gasp. “That was an accident!”

“Ah, so you just wanted an excuse to play footsie, huh?”

You hit him again. “An accident, Harry.”

Harry laughs, pulling you further against him. You let out a yawn as you rest your head in the crook of his neck. “We should probably get up. I feel a bit gross.”

You hum in response, tickling Harry’s neck with the vibrations. You hear Harry say your name in an attempt to get your attention, but you’re already drifting off against his chest with the promise of him etched into your brain for when you wake up.

Harry figures he’ll get up in a bit rather than disturb you now, letting himself relax against you. He means to only lay there for a few minutes until he knows he can remove himself from you so he can clean up, but soon enough his eyelids are falling shut as he too drifts off to sleep.

#completely obsessed with jojo moyes and her books #so im happy i had this idea #italy!harry is a fucking babe also #harry #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #harry styles au #harry styles oneshot #one direction imagine #my fics #italy!harry

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seriouslysnape · 3 years

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HIii! I was wondering if you could write something Fred (6th/7th year) x Gryffindor Reader (i know u dont usually write him) maybe something where reader and fred are best friends and shes in love with him but she thinks he dosent like her that way with a fuffy ending? maybe some angst not too much tho thank youuu <3 if you dont want to write fred (😭) you can write it for lupin (6th/7th year)

His Favorite Girl

Fred Weasley x Gryffindor! Reader

Warnings: Language.

Word Count: 3,430

“Woah. Guess I had more to drink than I thought.”

The Gryffindor common room. An ever changing space for all Gryffindor students to unwind, study, or party, depending on the occasion. The common room was always crowded from wall to wall after a Quidditch match, especially when Gryffindor reigned victorious. The players all filed in, bursting with good energy and an itch to celebrate their win. Oliver Wood exploded inside first with an unmistakably beaming smile spreading across his face.

The Gryffindor students who hadn’t been able to make it to watch the match automatically knew that they had won based on Oliver’s visible jubilant mood. You were one of the unfortunate ones that hadn’t been able to make it, but you knew that the team would bring the party to you. The Weasley twins came bopping in next, George carrying a very happy Harry Potter on his shoulders. Harry leapt off of George’s shoulders before the tall twin could knock him into the top of the doorframe.

Your sights automatically set on the other Weasley twin. Fred was beaming with delight at their impressive win. Fred was damn proud to be a Gryffindor, and beating the brakes off of Slytherin was one of his favorite pastimes. He couldn’t be any happier at this moment. It warmed your heart to see him so joyful and full of glee.

You raked over his tall, slender yet muscular frame. His signature red hair was damp with sweat and parts of his face were caked with dirt.

Fred caught your stare, his smile never leaving his face as he gave you a friendly wink. You closed the Potions book in your lap, getting up from the sofa with a silent hope that your thumping heartbeat wasn’t obvious to anyone.

It was a hard thing to do. Keeping your ever growing crush and admiration for Fred Weasley under wraps was becoming more and more difficult as time went on. The seemingly simple solution (as all of your friends had told you) to do would be to “just tell him” how you felt. But it was MUCH easier said than done.

There were so many things that could possibly go wrong if you were to confess your feelings to Fred. You would be running the risk of ruining a beautiful friendship that had done nothing but blossom over the last seven years if he didn’t share that same admiration. You didn’t want to lose your best friend just because your heart felt differently than his.

At the same time, you wanted to tell him every scrap and ounce of how your soul felt lost without him. There had been a few times over the years where you had an opportunity to lay your heart out on the line for him. Each time you had this heavy feeling in your chest letting you know you needed to make a move.

You built up the courage each time, but were interrupted by George or another one of your friends before you could bite the bullet. You knew it wasn’t healthy to keep this holed away in yourself. Your love would only grow more. The more days that passed, the more you began to wonder how different your life would be if you never told him. Not to mention that graduation was only a few months away, and there was always the risk of losing contact with him when you went separate ways.

That is, IF you were to go separate ways.

On the other side of the coin, there was always a chance that Fred possibly did harbor the same admiration for you. That would totally change things in the long run. The idea of starting a romantic relationship, possibly getting married, and having a family was nothing short of perfect.

But you had to get to that point first.

Everyone rallied around Harry, shaking him excitedly and singing their praises to him for his incredible Snitch catch. Suddenly, blaring and thunderous chatter filled the common room as more exhilarated students piled in. Within the hour, a sea of Gryffindors occupied the room, complete with blasting music and an ungodly amount of alcohol.

Oliver had gathered a crowd of first years in one corner of the common room as he retold every solitary second of the match from his point of view, starting from the very beginning. The wide eyed first year wizards and witches were on the edge of their seats as they listened to his story, some of them beginning to wonder if they had what it took to be great Quidditch players.

On the other side of the room, you were settled once again on the sofa with Alicia Spinnet and Katie Bell, who were seated in the arm chairs across from you. They were exhausted from playing all day, but that didn’t stop them from engaging in some girl talk.

Alicia and Katie were your dearest friends, and they were the only ones who knew about your crush on Fred. A crush that had quite honestly evolved into something much more. They were always keeping an ear out to see if Fred said anything remotely leading them to believe that he might like you back. As surprising as it was, Fred never really outwardly spoke about his romantic side.

Speaking of, Fred and George were in another corner of the room with Harry and Ron, doing God only knows what. Fred was considerably tipsy, but nothing even close to plastered. You had seen Fred drunk before, and needless to say, it was a hysterical sight.

“So, [Y/N],” Alicia spoke up, her dark skin looking extra glowy from the fire roaring in the fireplace; “Fred was awfully excited to come back to tell you that we won.”

Katie perked up, her head lifting from where it had been leaning on the back of the chair.

“Yeah! The first thing that he told George was that he couldn’t wait to tell you the news. Although, I guess Oliver kind of told everyone before Fred had the chance.”

“Really? He said that?” You asked, sitting up a little straighter.

Alicia nodded vigorously, gripping Katie’s forearm with elation. Alicia and Katie had never tried to set the two of you up, mainly because you had begged them not to. That didn’t stop them from trying to be the ultimate wingwomen. They believed that you and Fred would be a stellar couple. They were convinced you were made for one another.

They both feared that you’d never make an attempt to make it happen.

“He sure did. I heard him myself.” Katie replied.

Alicia glanced over her shoulder to make sure no one was listening before leaning forward closer to you. Her voice was quiet, loud enough so only you and Katie could hear as she spoke.

“Graduation is coming up quickly. You’ve got to tell him.” She advised.

You sighed heavily. If you had a galleon for every time one of them had told you that, you’d be a wealthy woman. They just didn’t seem to get that it just isn’t that easy. You wouldn’t deny that proclaiming your deepest secret to someone didn’t scare you. It was terrifying to offer your heart and soul to someone, even when you knew that they might get broken as a result. You didn’t want to live with a broken heart.

But you didn’t want to live always asking yourself “what if”.

Before you could respond, a figure plopped themself next to you, his familiar scent sending flutters all through you. Fred basically snuggled up next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder. Despite the fact that you weren’t dating, Fred was comfortable enough with you to get extremely close, which didn’t help your situation at all.

Alicia and Katie held down their snickers and giggles at how you were clearly flustered. You tried not to wriggle too much under Fred’s hold, and draw any attention to yourself. He was your best friend, and you knew how to play it cool when he was around.

“Hi, [Y/N].” Fred slurred loudly over the noise.

You laughed softly at the smell of Firewhiskey that was radiating off of him. You weren’t much of a drinker, but you’d have a drink with Fred from time to time.

“Hey, Fred. Congratulations on the match.” You complimented.

Fred grinned proudly, looking down at your slumped body. His eyes were beginning to glaze over from the alcohol, but he looked as sober as ever. He had a certain look in his eyes that you couldn’t identify.

“Thanks. Those bloody Slytherins got what they deserved.” He stated.

“Oliver seems over the moon with how it went.” You remarked, smiling as you looked behind you to see Oliver now standing on a table as he continued telling his thrilling tale.

When you turned back to Fred, you couldn’t help but notice how Fred hadn’t taken his eyes off of you. The butterflies in your belly were going totally bananas now. His gaze did eventually shift to the Potions book that was placed next to your feet, and he let out a guttural sound. He reached for it, noting that it had obviously been put to good use in the last several hours.

“Have you been studying?” He questioned, holding the book in his hand.

You sheepishly nodded, aimlessly reaching for the textbook. An offended look crossed Fred’s face as he held the book far out of your reach. Damn his long arms.

“I have a test on Monday. Advanced Potions is kicking my ass this year and I’ve just barely been getting by so I have to study extra time.” You expressed, laughing at your fruitless attempt to get the book back.

His sharp jaw fell open a tad and he stretched back even further to ensure you didn’t get the book back for now.

“You’re kidding me. I missed my favorite girl at the match because she was stuck in the common room studying for a TEST?” He acquired, not even aware of the weight behind his choice of words.

You felt your smile fade into more of a bashful expression. Your body slinked back into the cushions, forgetting all about the book. His words rang in your word.

Favorite girl.

Fred Weasley’s favorite girl.

Alicia and Katie were both wide eyed and jaw dropped at what he had just said. They were looking back and forth between the two of you like they were at an intense tennis match.

Fred was so aloof and oblivious to the fact that he had literally just melted your heart with a single sentence. You spent so much time with Fred that you just didn’t understand how he couldn’t see it.

Fred knew you backwards and forwards. He could see straight through you when you were lying or when you were sad, but claiming you were fine. He always remembered your favorite treats from Honeydukes and how you liked hot Butterbeer on cold winter nights. It made him happy to hear you talk about your favorite Muggle novels or tell him about something funny that happened in McGonagall’s class. He knew you better than anyone.

But why couldn’t he see the way you were yearning for him?

“You missed me?” You asked, shrinking even further into the cushions.

Fred looked at you as if that were the dumbest question he had ever been graced with. He lowered his arm at your sudden demeanor change, gently putting the book in your hand. Alicia and Katie leaned in carefully, eager to see where this conversation was going. Much to their disappointment, Fred didn’t get a chance to answer due to another member joining you on the couch.

George landed less gracefully than Fred had, basically landing on top of you and smothering you. Your shrieks were muffled in George’s Quidditch robes, Fred wrestling his brother off of you.

“Hey! George, get off of her.” He grunted, heaving his brother’s very limp body off of you.

Alicia threw her hands up in defeat at the interruption, Katie falling back into her chair. So close, yet so far. You gasped for air as George fell on the open seat next to Fred. George was way further gone than Fred. He was barely even able to keep his eyes open, let alone get any real, complete thought across.

“Nice timing, George.” Katie said sarcastically.

You gave her a menacing look, not wanting her to bring it up. George snorted, and his sentence came out more as one incoherent word.

“Did I interrupt something important?” He heavily slurred between hiccups.

You rolled your eyes. Leave it to George to ruin this for you. You were discouraged that your chance had been shot down once again, but it wasn’t George’s fault. You were just glad to see your friends in such high spirits. Soon enough, the rest of the party goers had crowded towards the center of the room where you were. The party raged on well into the night, a complete celebration with dancing, singing, and more drinking.

As easily as the party could’ve carried on and on, eventually the famed players’ exhaustion caught up with them and they all slowly dwindled down and sauntered off to their respective dorm rooms. You hugged Alicia and Katie goodnight, knowing they’d be passed out in their beds by the time you got up to your dorm room.

You spoke to Harry and Ron for a bit, giving Harry a friendly kiss on the top of his head for his winning catch. His pasty white cheeks went red as he and Ron retreated to their room in a fit of blushy giggles. That left just you and the twins in the common room that was now completely trashed. Empty cups and half spilled bottles of alcohol were scattered about, people even leaving behind some of their school stuff to be recollected in the morning.

George was a mumbling, intoxicated mess. He was close to falling asleep, and Fred wanted to get him to bed before he was completely unable to stand up. You’d be up for a while cleaning up the common room. You always hated leaving a room knowing it was messy, so you didn’t mind picking up after everyone. Fred knew you’d stay behind to clean up, but he didn’t want you to have to do it alone. He draped his babbling twin over his shoulders, grimacing at how George was usually heavier when he was drunk.

“I’m going to run George upstairs and then I’ll be back to lend you a hand.” He smiled, ignoring the things that George was trying to say to him.

“You don’t have to. I can handle it.” You said, tossing a handful of cups away.

“I know you can. I just don’t want you to be lonely is all.” He said, turning on his heel and marching up the boys’ dormitory stairs with George.

You felt a warm flush course through you at his words once more. You weren’t sure why you were extra sensitive to him tonight. Sure enough, Fred returned a few minutes later, almost stumbling into the wall at the bottom of the stairs. You both laughed as he gave a witty comment.

“Woah. Guess I had more to drink than I thought.” He said, walking into the room once he steadied himself.

“Is George okay?” You asked, accepting the pile of empty bottles that Fred placed into your trash bag.

You usually hand cleaned for the first few minutes, but would eventually grow bored and cast a spell from your wand to finish the work. It was seldom that the common room was this quiet, so you liked to bask in the silence for a little after there was a party.

Fred scoffed with a nod.

“Oh, yeah. He’ll be fine. Nasty hangover in the morning, but there’s a potion for that.”

As usual, the two of you were tired of cleaning, so you waved your wand with a quick cleaning charm. You both watched in amazement as the trash and everything else whisked around the room into trash bins, leaving the room spotless. You put your wand in your back pocket with a satisfied hum. Usually, this would be the time where you went to bed, but you were getting that familiar heavy feeling in your chest.

It immediately dawned on you that you had a perfect chance here. No one was around, and no one would be around for more than enough time.

“You want to sit and chat for a bit?” Fred questioned, noticing your dazed look; “You seem like you’ve got something on your mind.”

The fireplace was still occupied with a cozy warm fire, which was very inviting. You nodded, following Fred to the same couch you had been on earlier. The common room was beyond peaceful now, your head almost lulling onto Fred’s shoulder in relaxation.

Oddly enough, you weren’t freaked out now. In all the past times you had tried to do this, you were a jittery mess and could barely get a word out without stuttering. You felt so at ease now, as if this was something you did often. You hadn’t even had a drop of alcohol tonight, so you couldn’t blame it on that.

“So what’s up?” Fred questioned after you didn’t initiate a conversation.

He had unknowingly opened a door that you knew you had to take. It was now or never.

“I’m just thinking about some things.” You admitted.

Fred’s curiosity was sparked now. He was always interested and willing to hear what was going on in your mind.

“What kind of things?” He pressed on.

Your sights were set on the flames in front of you, causing you to miss the way that Fred was looking at you with such fondness and care. He was cherishing every passing second of this moment.

“You and me.” You confessed.

Fred was filling with anticipation, not sure where you were going with this. He raised a brow.

“What about us?” He replied.

You took a breath.

“Fred, what did you mean when you said I was your favorite girl?” You queried.

Fred looked into your eyes that were peering up at him in a puppy-like way. He noticed that you were expecting an answer. Fred, as confident as ever, responded with a voice like butter, his accent a little thicker.

“Because you’re my favorite person in the world.” He revealed.

Your heart caught in your throat and your breathing hitched. So far so good.

“I am?” You asked to confirm

Fred’s arm that was around you pulled you in closer. You were being flooded with such a sense of intimacy that it was overwhelming. Your nose was level with his chin, and you were so close to his face that you swore you could hear the blood flowing through his face. Fred knew what was happening now, and he was ecstatic about it. He had wanted you all along, but never knew how’d you’d react. The last thing he ever wanted to do was scare you off.

He thought about all the times he had seen you upset, and how it hurt him when you were pained with something. He always wished for nothing but happiness for you. He didn’t want to ruin things because of how he felt.

But now he was sure that you’d be here to stay.

“Absolutely you are. You’re all I ever think about.” He whispered, stroking your face with the side of his thumb that was wrapped around you.

This didn’t feel real, but felt all too real at the same time.

“Why are you whispering?” You smiled softly, whispering back to him.

He smirked, and whispered again.

“Because I want you to know how much I love you.”

A cannon of confetti seemingly exploded all throughout your body. Shock, desire, lust, love, want, everything went through you all at once. This wasn’t at all how you had imagined this happening, but you were happy that it did. It was very fitting for the two of you.

“Kiss me.” You whispered once more.

He lowered his head and his lips caught yours in a feverish way. All the pent up feelings from the last 6 years all loaded themselves into the kiss. It was a huge weight off of your shoulders.

“I love you,” You professed once Fred pulled away; “You don’t know how long I’ve waited to tell you that.”

Fred chuckled lightly, responding before kissing you again.

“I think I have a pretty good idea.”

#fred weasley #fred wealsey fic #fred weasley x reader #fred weasley x female reader #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley blurb #fred weasley fluff #Harry Potter #harry potter fred weasley #seriouslysnape

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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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tarousprettybaby · 3 years

Text

A Naughty Decision (Day 3)

Day 3 of Kinktober: Oikawa Tōru

Kink: Exhibitionism

Word Count: 737

Warning(s): MINORS DNI, the smuts, handjob, dirty talk, subby Oikawa (we love to see it), use of the word slut, gender-neutral reader

Notes from the Author: Day 3 was only like an hour late, so yay me! I'm getting more used to getting things on a schedule. And since we're completely caught up I'll start just following the kinktober masterlist dates. So enjoy the piece below the cut!

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“Tōru, baby, who knew you’d be this needy for me~.”

The words are whispered sweetly into his ear, and you feel his shudder against you, a small whimper falling from his lips.

“Please..” he says, head falling forward a little bit in an attempt to hide his blush-covered features. This hadn’t been what Tōru was talking about when he said he’d want to do some things in public with you. No, he hadn’t expected at all for you to take the reigns from him so firmly and give him no chance to take them back.

Not that he was complaining currently.

“Oh baby, you want something imma need you to say it to me. Loud and clear. Don’t be shy now.” You finish the sentence softer than you had started as two girls pass particularly close by you, trying to get Tōru’s attention. Little do they know, they are the furthest thing from your boyfriend’s mind right now. No, his mind is focusing desperately on not cumming too prematurely in front of all these people.

You see, despite him wanting to dip his toe into exhibitionism a tad bit, he hadn’t expected you to pick the biggest Halloween party in the college town as the perfect place to test this kink of his. Especially when Tōru turned up to your apartment in a maid outfit, something he swore had been a bet lost. But no, despite both these facts, you had brought him to your room where you ever so graciously slipped a little vibrator onto his cock and told him to keep on until you said otherwise.

And now here he was, two hours into the party, braced against the wall with you leaning lightly against his back so you could quickly wrap around the front of his skirt to play and tease his cock whenever you wanted. The vibrator must be on its highest setting right now because Tōru is sweating bullets.

“Please, y/n-chan, wanna cum. Wanna cum so badly for you.” Is stuttered through heavy breaths and almost held back sighs.

Your hand subtly moves underneath his skirt to feel his cockhead. The bulbous head is utterly drenched in his pre, a fact that has you wanting to take him to the bathroom and destroy him once and for all.

But first…a little fun.

“Mhm, you wanna cum for me, Tōru?” you ask aloud, voice slightly higher as the music playing had somehow become even louder and more insufferable. “Wanna make a mess of your cute little skirt?” His nods are vigorous and unwavering. “Well, I need to hear you beg for it slut.”

The request has him hesitating. You want him to beg? You want him to beg when he knows that that group of people next to you has definitely figured out what’s going on between you. But it’s when the vibrations slow down, not as pleasurable anymore, that he makes a noise of protest, thoughts completely subverted from his previous worry.

“Oh, you didn’t like that? No, no, then my cute little slutty maid, I need you to beg me to turn it back on so high you cum your brains out.” The smirk that Tōru knows must be on your face and the condescending tone of your voice, one he’s never heard before, instantly have him letting out pleas.

“Fuck ok, ok. Please let me cum my brains out. Master~.” Please, I’m begging you. I’ll be a good little slut, just please let me cummm.” The words give you pause, so honest and guttural they almost make you moan, the way his voice is slightly higher.

You turn the vibrator back up all the way, and just as he’s about to thank you so graciously for it, your hand reaches underneath his skirt and begins rolling and fondling his balls. Not a care in the world is in Tōru’s mind as he quickly begins reaching his high, loudly enough that a few people actually turn their heads. His mind going blank, and his body goes limp against the wall as he causes a slight mess of his costume, a small stain now decorating the front.

But he can barely even catch his breath as you’re quickly rounding in front of him and grasping his hand. Pulling him through the crowd until you finally find a hallway.

“Come on, Tōru baby, I still have plenty more I have to give you~.”

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#oikawa toru #oikawa smut #oikawa x y/n #oikawa x reader #oikawa x you #haikyuu!!#azurestags

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thecitythatdoesntsleep · 2 years

Text

MAY 5TH “MIND IF I CUT IN?“

Ballroom | Knife | Stumbling || @themerrywhumpofmay

(TCW: threatening, vaguely implied noncon, mentions of war, harsh language, implied intimate whumper, implied slavery, death threats via dialogue, knight!whumpee, prince!whumper, royal whump)

"The Prince has requested you dance with him," A man in a dress suit spoke, leaning closer to Whumpee who had been sticking close to the walls of the ballroom.

"His Majesty can fuck himself, sir." Whumpee replied to the noble, whom was the only person they remotely respected of their own will.

“I’ve already told you, if this goes well and he dares to get intoxicated,” The noble man trailed off and leaned in as if he were casually speaking above the harps and violins around them. “You can seduce him, and surely talk his inebriation into signing you free.”

“I came here in a suit of armor and you’ve stuffed me into a corset, you’re telling me I have to catch his attention?” Whumpee gaped and both of them parted from conversation when the Prince started to stride closer.

“Let’s just hope you can dance,” A final mutter from the nobleman and he and Whumpee both bowed to show their respect at his incoming.

“I know you’re shy, Whumpee, but I shouldn’t have to pluck you off the wall, you’re far from a flower.” Whumper purred, watching Whumpee lift from their bow and the Prince extended his hand towards them.

They cringed inwardly, eased clammy fingers into a smooth but threatening hand. It snatched them closer and drug them out begrudgingly to the dancefloor.

All eyes turned to them, they were forced to wear a faux smile of bashfulness and glee; pretending to be bewildered that they would ever get a chance to dance with ‘His Highness.’

“You look beautiful tonight,” Whumper spoke lowly, watching the preying eyes squint in conversation as he’d leaned into Whumpee.

“You’re too kind my liege, I take it you enjoy the outfit you put me in.” They rattled back coyly, while earning a stern clench of the Prince’s jaw.

“It seems you haven’t learned how to accept a compliment yet, we’ll work on that.” Whumper denoted, both taking position at the center of the floor; a spotlight panning to them and the rest of the room starting to dim.

Whumpee hadn’t realized it was going to be such an event, whispers all around them as the dancefloor cleared but circled around like an arena spectating a duel.

“Don’t disappoint me, knight,” The Prince muttered in a quiet voice, “Or I’ll invade your Kingdom and violate your Queen.”

Whumpee’s eyes widened marginally, swallowed around their words and instead gave a small nod of acknowledgement. They understood their captivity, they had since they’d been taken as a prisoner of war, when they’d been sent in as a messenger of treaty.

Violins slowly started to hum and with the first step, Whumpee and the Prince were locked into a heated stare; both daring the other to fumble their steps and ruin the plan. If Whumpee wanted to play, Whumper had far more practice in skills of fancy and knew it well. Whumpee would have to be extremely poised, to be able to keep up once the tune increased.

As the two started to trade steps, held their left hands palm to palm and the right holding each others forearms; the crowd started to whisper and gossip. Each turn they took, every articulated tip-toe, people were making bets and telling stories about who they thought the stranger was.

Unannounced, untitled, merely plucked from their edge and thrust into blinding lights. Dancing with someone that other nobles would kill to have a single twirl with. Here Whumpee was, sweating bullets and feeling it drip down their scalp from under their pinned on wig.

When the music started to go up tempo and the Prince’s lip cocked into a half-smirk, guised as a charming stare; he added an extra two steps and gave a single tug to initiate he’d curl them closer, just to see if they could keep up.

Whumpee gave it their all, tried to loosen up enough that they could merely be toted along and counterbalanced his steps as though they’d been dancing all their life. When their arm felt a tug, they gracefully twirled in, met opposite hands as Whumper held their back to his chest for a single moment that captivated the audience with a lull of envy.

“You’re not as daft as I thought you’d be, but let’s see if you’re fit for a King,” The Prince whispered, as if he were giving them a bashful compliment in the backwards hug that had been paused for tabloid sake.

“You’re not the King yet, and you’ll never be in my Kingdom.” Whumpee whispered, tucking in shyly and giving a coy glance to a prying and curious Royal, that had stopped to admire their fluid pause. They looked like such a nesting couple, despite how much hatred fueled their comments.

He slung them outward and they resumed another hold, palms flat and hands cupping, Whumpee’s hand on his shoulder and his at their waist. More intimate, inches closer to reset their distance and increase Whumpee’s chance of fumbling their steps. Another stare-down and they’d picked back up to the live musicians; one step, two steps and they were working back around the ballroom in a large, exaggerated circle.

“If you make me look like a fool, I’ll cut off your ring fingers and send them to your family.” Another idle threat and Whumpee almost wasn’t taking it seriously anymore. He’d talked such a big game but so far, he’d done nothing than have guards throw them in holding and beat them up periodically when they didn’t gush information.

“If I impress you with this dance, you’ll pour us a glass of your favorite rum and let us escape to the garden for a drink.” Whumpee bargained and the Prince looked suspicious but pleased at how simple their request was. Perhaps Whumpee just needed a stiff drink, maybe his threats hadn’t overpowered his charm and they were falling already.

Sharp strings started to be backed up by cellos, harps and flutes, the symphony was reaching a climax and the sparkle in Whumper’s eye said they needed to be prepared for failure. They weren’t skilled in dance but they were skilled in fighting. They knew how to move with an opponent and thought surely if they could do it on the battlefield, doing it at a tenth of the speed, could only be easier.

The hard part, was always making sure they looked as haphazardly in-love with the face above them, scrutinizing, staring them down as if they were a target and he was a bow. Keeping their body and movements graceful, instead of stiff, while they had the attention of ten different Kingdoms in attendance.

Whumper lifted their held hands and Whumpee gave a slow twirl, feeling him pull towards himself after and they met chest to chest, palms meeting at their center between them. He grabbed their hand in a cupping fashion and they both stepped backwards, Whumpee picking up their unspoken cue and starting to turn clockwise.

Half way through the turn, Whumper turned back the opposite way and they quickly followed suit to meet again and swirl in a counter direction now. They repeated it, four, six times before returning back to holding waists and shoulders; cupped hands to their left once more.

The Prince gave a cocky smirk, uncaring this time about the preparation and as they quickly spun in a three-step pattern, he gripped at their back and they both knew the ballroom favorite was coming to an end.

It was signal enough and Whumpee struggled but gave in blindly, leaning against the Prince’s hold and trusting he’d support them as they slowly were tipped back. They lifted a slowly poised leg, just enough off the ground to make a statement of trust and graceful balance; a single arm wrapping around his neck with a gentle decline.

The lights snapped off and when the whole room brightened again, uproarious cheers and applauds came from all angles around them and Whumper carefully set them back on their feet. They gave another pause for the benefit of their audience and held each others forearms as every other sound but clapping and conversation drowned them out.

“I suppose I’ll have to get you that rum, if I’m a man of my word.” The Prince incited and they slowly weaved through the re-arranging ballroom to find a servant at the lounge.

Once they’d acquired their liquor, the Prince escorted them arm in arm to the garden; never once leaving their side and being allowed it as the guise of a courtship.

“I’m surprised you picked something self indulgent, when you seem so honorable and driven.” Whumper mused, taking a long sip of his crystal glass to imbibe himself.

“Are you saying I could have asked for freedom within a single dance, Majesty?” Whumpee inquired and recieved a low chuckle from the man beside them.

“I suppose you’re wise, asking for something small, first.” The Prince came to round the large fountain and sat at a ledge, pulling them into sitting with him.

“I employ good keep, not a single bruise on your face just how I instructed. Have they been treating you well?”

“Oh it’s been quite fair your highness, They’ve been quite generous in corrections and satisfactory in their egregious pleasure seeking.” Whumpee denoted, as if none of it had affected them in the first place and had merely been an inconvenience instead.

“You’re a prisoner here and until I hear from your Kingdom about my diplomatic reconditioning, you’ll be used how I see fit. For now I just want you pliant.” The Prince informed, waving his half empty glass in eyesight of a lingering servant and being ushered another fill to the rim.

“I have been pliant, I’ve made you look good tonight and caught the attention of the other monarchs; I’m not sure when you’ll manage to be satisfied.” Whumpee insisted and took a cautious sip of their own liquor, unflinching to the burn as it scalded it’s way down.

“If they’ve saw fit to correct you, obviously you’re still rigid in some sense of pride.” He chastised and they gave a flutter of lashes over the rim of their glass.

“Would you like to see how they’ve treated me, your Majesty? View the brutality at your namesake, driven so deeply into my skin a short dance almost sent me to tears?” Whumpee questioned, watching the depth in the Prince’s eyes start to drop as they dangled temptation in his face. They just barely pulled back the hem of their neckline, revealed a dark purple bruise that was just within alignment of their dress garment.

They took a solid drink now, needing a buzz to calm their spiking anxiety at the fact they were trying to seduce this ruthless man and it was somehow working. He drank with them, finished the glass and the servant came forward with a whole glass decanter to refill it. He took it from them this time, kept it for them and poured their glass full of his own accord.

“This might be the first thing I’ve had to drink since I was cleaned up and fed to attend. They kept me starved and weak, but knew I needed to not disgrace you this evening.” Whumpee recalled their torture in his cells to him as if it were a love story and it disgustingly held the same effect to him. He got a sparkle to his eye, looked at them with more enticement.

Surely if they got him drunk and filled his lustful appetite, he’d easily sign the treaty they’d prepared and they could escape soon after.

“They even branded me, your Highness.. I wear your crest on my body, forever now, nothing to be done about it.” Whumpee purred, shifting closer on the edge and coming to give a soft clink of their glass to his.

They both drank but he took greedy gulps and they took a swig and slowly spit it back into the crystal. He didn’t notice and they thanked both the liquor and the low lighting they’d carefully picked in the garden.

“Since I’ve become your property, I think it’s only right you examine your men’s handiwork and break me in how you’d have me, your highness.” They offered lowly and reached out to pull the Prince’s hand to their thigh.

When he didn’t pull away, they knew they had a chance at their plan after all.

“If we leave now, there will be talk,” The Prince worried aloud and Whumpee laughed.

“Isn’t talk what you love, Prince? If everyone is talking about you that means you’re of interest.”

“Meet me in the southmost tower in ten minutes,” The Prince ordered lowly. “I’m trusting you to show up or I’ll put a bounty on your head.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world, Prince.”

As he walked back the way they came, they let out a sigh and held their breath again. It was a step closer to what they needed, where they needed to be. Now all they had to do was go through with it, give themselves up as sacrifice and trick him into signing their peace treaty.

They knew what they’d face when they signed up and they’d promised their Queen success. No matter the cost. That’s why they hadn’t come yet, hadn’t invaded with an army to get her right hand back. Because they already knew they’d be captured and had planned it all along.

“Are you really willing to go this far for your Kingdom, knight?” The noble that had been helping them inquired, coming around the fountain to see them brushing themselves off.

“I told My Lady I would succeed in getting a signature, no matter the means and I’m a right-hand of my word. My body is a small price to pay to save families, soldiers and her Majesty of any more tragedy.” Whumpee admitted, standing to take to his side as they already knew he’d been sent to show them the route to the tower.

“You don’t think she’d find tragedy in your self-sacrifice?” The nobleman inquired as they walked back into the castle and took down a hall.

“She would, she’d mourn my death for a decade, at least. But that’s why she’ll never know what it costs for our survival in these lands.” Whumpee replied in a soft voice, hands shaking at their sides as they got closer to a cutout in a wall that revealed a spiral staircase.

“I hope her Majesty is aware of what a noble heart her right hand has, how much they’d give up for her and her rule.” Even in such a grim time, the nobleman smiled and they found themselves smiling too, basking in such a simple, kind emotion.

“Her Majesty knows I’d die for her,” Whumpee admitted, turning towards the stairs and only glancing back with a slightly wider smile.

“That’s why she agreed to be my bride.”

I vaguely remember @painsandconfusion asking for ballroom whump? Here love, a treat for you, I hope I didn’t just dream that up or that I’m confusing you with someone else. IF SO IGNORE BUT KNOW ILY and your whump keeps me shooketh not stirred.

#whump #whump community #whumpblr #royal whump #whump prompts #whump prompt #whump writing #the merry whump of may #mind if i cut in #tw threatening #tw whump #tw language #tw implied future noncon #tw implied past abuse #tw implied noncon #tw death threats #tw mentions of war

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monsterfloofs · 3 years

Text

The Ghost in the Parlor (Sfw and anonymous protagonist!)

It was one in the morning when you rose from bed, sliding on a pair of slippers and feeling your way through the dark to exit your room. The sound was faint, barely audible, but you knew. . .

He was playing tonight.

As you weave your way towards the stairs, you could hear the chords beneath you, the stirring voice of a piano pulling you through dark corridors. As you stop and peer over the banister. You can see from up above, candles alight with a ghastly blue fire. Their light casting eerie wisps of shadows to dance upon the floor. In the middle of this spectral scene was a luminous form sitting at the old grand piano. His spindly fingers like spiders upon the keys, procuring the tune that wafted up the stairs. The sound is sweet and melancholic, mourning things that have been lost, and the ever present march of time. Always moving, never relenting.

You knew all this because you had asked him, it was his favorite tune to play. He played it often and there were times where you could almost feel his deep rooted bittersweet sadness. Tears would spring to your eyes and you would have to mop your face with your sleeve. Tonight the song felt especially lonely and with careful footing you crept down the stairs, your shadow timidly trailing after.

"Have I disturbed you?" His melodic voice intones as you sit down beside him. "No, I came to hear you play, if you would have me as company mister Sterling." "Sleep is for the living" he sighs wistfully, "You should be asleep, dreaming sweet dreams of tomorrow."

He talks to you but his hands, ah his quick and nimble hands keep playing. You watch them sweeping across the keys, mesmerized until he stops. You blink and look up at him. His face is turned towards yours, an eyebrow quirked inquisitively. "A little distracted, were we?" You smile sheepishly, "Ah, yes, I'm sorry, but your hands do work magic. What had you been saying?"

He gives an embarrassed huff, "It's late is it not?" They pale eyes staring at you unblinkingly from beneath round vintage glasses. "Well yes," you reluctantly agree, "But I have missed your nightly performances. And I was hoping you could give me another lesson tonight." You say softly as he flexes his long spindly fingers. "Ooh. . . perhaps. You have always been kind to me. Letting me keep you up at odd hours of night with my prattling."

"You know I would stay even if you didn't give me a lesson. Your music is beautiful." He turns his head away from you, but you can see a hazy pink color introduce itself onto his countenance. When he turns back the color has all but bled out, except for some swirling traces. "I have had nothing but time to perfect it. Though as despairing as it may be, to watch seasons pass without being able to participate in the world, I still have my music. I wonder, is it what holds me here? Is my comfort my cage? Alas-- Dear, aren't you going to put your hands to the piano? You did ask for a lesson you know."

You look up at him before doing as he asks. Aligning your fingers to the keys, "I thought you were still deciding. . ." "Oh," they respond absentmindedly, "Don't mind me, I'm particularly lost in my thoughts tonight, death, life, it's all just one big mess. . ." Sterling rambles on talking about music as you sit together playing chords and sections of songs. As you are still learning the basics he keeps things simple, most of the time you are echoing his voice on the piano or remembering notes and chords. But he has seems to have become happier with having someone he can talk to, rather than to stew lost in his own thoughts.

"You are doing quite well," A pleased smile tugging on his lips, his crinkled eyes twinkling. "Have you been practicing?" "A little. . . Not as much as I would like though." You slid your hands onto your lap and smile. "Thank you for the lesson, I appreciate you taking the time to sit with me and do that. I hope I'm not inconveniencing you."

"Of course not," he sniffs, "I. . . am very fond of your company." There was something with the way he said it, that stirred your heart. You can feel your own face grow a little warm, "I'm glad. . . haha." He glances at you, his hands poised to begin playing again. You swallow hard and press on, "Though I h-have to admit, I am more than a little fond of you."

--BADOOM His hands slip hitting the keys too hard and causes a loud blunder of noise. Practically falling off his chair, Sterling’s hands shielding his face in embarrassment. "I-I. . .WHAT?" He stammers, your eyes widen that he reacted so dramatically. "I just meant that, I c-care about you a lot--" The candles snuff out around and you are suddenly plunged in darkness. The ghost has left the building.

Your head flops into the piano, a few keys playing as your face presses into them. You give a groan of defeat Dammit! Way to go, you probably just killed him. . . AGAIN. Despite his usual stuffy demeanor he can get easily flustered. He tries to hide it under a punctual and proper air, but was a much shier person than he let on. You liked that about him though, there were little things that he did that just enchanted you. He was a deep thinker, and he always took the time to explain things and be patient with you. So of course, you had to go and fall in love with a ghost. You had been trying to gather the courage to tell him your feelings for about a week now. Slowly working your way towards the right words you say. But like music, timing was just as important as the notes. To be honest you had gotten so nervous you are sure you had fumbled in both regards. You sigh heavily, best head to bed, perhaps you can try and talk to him tomorrow.

You slink away in defeat, retiring to your chamber until sunlight streams through your window. Leaving a dappled trail of light and warmth inside your room. You grumpily turn over in bed, refusing to move until you have properly sulked for just a little while longer. Trying to wrack your brain how you were going to approach the ghostly pianist now. With Sterling being so shy, you weren’t sure if his reaction was bad or good. Only time will tell, but in the meantime you're up and making breakfast. Then busying yourself with doing chores around the house and trying not to let your mind settle too much into last night. You go about whiling away the hours until sunset. That's when Sterling becomes active inside the house. You don’t exactly know where he goes during the daytime. You have attempted in the past to nonchalantly snoop around in the basement but to no avail.

Before you know it, the sun is setting in the sky. Golden light filtering across the floor, flooding the rooms with dying light. You peer into the parlor, and step inside. Running your hands over the black and white keys. You can feel a faint prick on the back of your neck, you turn around and You startle, coming face to face with the musically inclined ghoul. You put a hand on your heart. "Oh my goodness!-- Sterling!" you sigh weakly, feeling your heart pounding in your chest. “Hello,” He murmurs faintly, you look up at him, feeling suddenly shy. All this time you had been waiting to talk to him, and now only an awkward silence fills the room. Both of you starting to speak at the same time.

“I’m sorry, what were you going to say?”

“N-no that’s alright, please, continue”

“Aaah-- why don’t you go first, I was the person who upset you last night”

A hand flutters anxiously to the glasses upon his crooked nose. "You didn’t upset me. You, w-well surprised me. I was flattered, but I don’t think you truely want anything to do with this old goat." "H-huh? What do yo--" He cuts you off with a flourish of his hand. "I'm an old man dear, not just old, decrepit. I died in 1839, my bones are buried outside, wouldn't that bother you?" His face flushes an eerie pink and he splutters in embarrassment. "I mean, it should bother you. . . " A light bulb blinks on in your head and you stare at him with new found insight. "Y-you, like me too, don't you. . ." "I beg your pa--" "It was you, wasn’t it?" With a rush of feeling, you practically jump a foot off the ground from excitement. "I was always wondering about those poems left on the door step-" your mouth goes agape. "And those flowers!" His eyes dart back and forth in a panic, his mouth wobbling. "W-what??? Me? I don't know anything about that!" You can tell he's wanting to bolt and you make a grab at one of his translucent hands. Surprisingly your fingers successfully curl around it and his shoulders jerk up. Trying to calm yourself down before trying to talk to him. You were spooking him, a novel thought, but not what you had been intending to do. So you take a different approach, "Why. . . didn't you ever tell me?" The specter is sweating bullets now, he mops his brow with a wispy handkerchief. "I-I” he groans in defeat, “A ghost cannot do romance! A ghost cannot do much of-- of anything! No matter how I felt, I couldn't keep you here, you deserve to be free, to experience life to the fullest. Not to be shackled to me and this house." You flush, truly surprised by his answer. "But, I don't want anyone else, I like you. . ." Tentatively you take his hands and hold them gently in your own. His expression quivers, looking down before he gently pulls away. His fingers wisping through your skin before reconstructing themselves back together. He puts a hand into his breast pocket before he pulls out an envelope with a flowery wax seal. He looks away from you but hands you the letter, his expression flushing as that same red color is introduced into his normal pale blue complexation. You look up at him searchingly before you gently take the letter. The smooth paper has a fragrance like all the rest of the notes you recieved, like roses and vanilla. You carefully peel back the floral seal, opening the envelope.

You watch Sterling lights the candles at the table in the parlor. It has been a week since the two of you had become a couple, and you cannot remember a happier time, then the hours you have spent together. “Didn't you say, a ghost cannot do romance?” You tease him with a smile, your eyes crinkling as you watch him with a loving gaze. He huffs softly, "That I did, and I wish more than anything I could take you to a fine dinner out of this house. . . " He pinches the wick of one last candle, and when he removes his hand, an enchanting blue fire flickers to life. “I think a candlelit dinner at home is just as lovely.” He looks at you for a moment, before he gives a little smile, “If you say so darling.” “I do.” He bends down to give you a chilly peck on the forehead before he sits down at his piano, flexing his fingers before he begins to play. The blue lights of the candles flickering to the sound of his haunting melody. But the tone has changed, no longer lachrymose. You can hear something happy stirring in the song that projects itself out of the house, and into the starlit sky.

#monster x reader #ghost x reader #fluff #sfw #ghost x human

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castleamc · 3 years

Text

In the Dead of Night

Pairings: Jack Daniels x F!Reader/Sweets

Words: 3.3K

Warnings: Smut 18+: Fingering (hence gif chosen), Oral (f receiving), Cum eating, Edging, Pregnancy thoughts only and slight possessiveness (a teeny crumb, if you blink you'll miss it), lmk anything else!

Summary: Jack wakes you up this time with a surprise that you've both waited longed for from all the years you've known each other.

A/N: first time actually* writing smut, so please go easy on me 👉🏻👈🏻 I beg & pls any feedback is appreciated 🙏🏼

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Chapter 2: The Golden Hours

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“This one comes in two different cuts, diamond and cushion.”

The jeweler places two rings on the velvet mat both with the same style different diamond shape, but nothing screams you. Looking at all the glimmering rings on display, they all start to look the same to Jack. None of these rings match you in any way.

They fall flat in comparison to your spirit.

Jack is becoming increasingly annoyed sweating bullets thinking he won’t be able to find a ring that matches you. He knows you’ll love anything he gets you, but he wants you to have a ring that says this made me think of you.

He’s been to about 5 stores in the span of one week, all of them leaving him hopeless. He'd gone during his lunch breaks, and now left work early along with Ginger, and still nothing fits. You loved Ginger, she was always that friend you needed that understood how hard Jack's job was, shared similar interests, determined as hell, and always called him out on his behavior. So her opinion was helpful beyond words.

He did spot one ring that might have been the one.

But might isn’t enough.

He wants to be 100% sure.

While admiring the ring in his hand he acknowledges that it does have fine craftsmanship, but it doesn’t remind him of you.

“Thank you miss, but I’ll reckon I’ll keep looking thank you.” He tips his hat leaving his 6th store defeated.

He opens to door for Ginger to exit out.

“You’ll find one, take a break before you choose the wrong one on a whim.” She advises giving Jack a hug goodbye.

She’s right he needs to slow down, but with you he doesn’t want to wait anymore. You’ve been together now for years as his girlfriend, he wants you to be his wife.

“I just want her to be mine already.”

“She’s already yours Jack, but I understand what you mean.” Patting his back as she bids farewell.

He heads to his car, pulling out his keys out of frustrating when his wallet falls out. It’s opened slightly inside the drink holder between the seats when he gets an idea, opening the wallet he’s greeted with a Polaroid of your radiating smile wearing his cowboy hat. Even as a picture you manage to make his heart stop. On the other side of the wallet, it’s his parents picture he remembers right there his mother had a ring that was given to her for their wedding.

“Well I’ll be damned.” He chuckles holding up the picture of his parents, his mother is holding his father’s hand over his chest displaying that beauty.

He needs to get home to look at it.

Jack starts his engine heading back, you should be home by now probably cooking this afternoon. You always cook if you're there before him, on days he gets home he cooks for you. But you're usually early on Fridays. Tapping anxiously on his steering wheel for the light to turn he hopes you're not home, cause if you are he knows he has to be subtle going into the house. You could always read his face so well, especially when he gets an idea.

Each red light feels like an eternity, but finally he reaches home groaning at the sight of your parked car. He curses under his breath wishing you were still at work, thats something he'd never would've guessed to have wished before.

He hops out skipping a few steps on the porch, but before opening the door he takes a minute to steady his breathing. He hears music playing softly and your voice mimicking Paul Simon's song.

You’re definitely cooking.

“Sweets you here?” He calls out taking off his coat to hang meanwhile scoping the living room and placing his hat on the pillar of the stair.

There's a moment where his heart drops not hearing you call out, he rushes to the living room finding it empty except for your favorite blanket on the couch making him smile.

“In the kitchen! Do you want mashed potatoes or baked potato? I can’t decide..”

His shoulders slump at the sound of your voice relieved.

But since you're cooking that'll keep you busy for now, “You pick, imma change darlin’!”

“That’s thing I wa-“ sticking your head out to the hallway to find yourself talking alone.

“Want both...I guess both it is."

He heads upstairs mindful of making any loud noises with his boots, he closes the door quietly looking for the jewelry box his mother gave him.

Where did he put that darn box?

His mind is still racing trying to remember meanwhile the most curious cat is literally downstairs.

Looking at his nightstand he remembers it’s in the lower cabinet, taking long strides he lifts his jeans before squatting down and taking out the brown hand carved box.

Resting on the side of the bed, he runs his hands over it remembering his mom.

She would’ve loved you, yet she passed long before Jack ever met you. His dad however, never had a daughter so he was enamored by you. Any excuse he could find to have you over and embarrass him, his dad was first in line.

Lifting the lid, he scattered around pausing when he spotted at the bottom the small red velvet box.

He opens it to find the most enchanting emerald gold band ring, adorned in vines holding the emerald gem in place.

I finally found you, he thinks to himself.

The gem shimmered the same way your eyes did every night you wake him up, and the color itself seemed like it was made for you. It was perfect. You loved being out in the fields, resting on the grass listening to music, picking flowers, or watching the horses run.

That’s where you shined the most.

You yelled from downstairs, one foot on the bottom step “Jack baby, come down!”

“Fucking christ!” He shouted silently.

Your yell spooked him that he almost dropped the box, “I’m coming sweets, I-uh I had to pee really bad!”

He shook his head in disbelief at the weak response as if that'll work.

He got up quickly shoving the jewelry box back into the cabinet closing the door quietly while clutching the ring box. He opens the bedroom door again softly before you were to question it, quickly changing into comfortable clothing.

He hears your footsteps coming up the stairs, the ring is still in his hand. Just as you enter he drops it into the hamper already feeling like an idiot, but you won’t find it which is what matters the most right now.

You pop in to find him reaching down for the hamper, squinting your eyes at him. He shrugs his shoulders and raises his brows as to signal ‘what?’

Something about him looks lighter, these past few days he’s been carrying this somber cloud but you don't see it anymore. You can't quite put your finger on it. There's now a glint in his eye that wasn't there yesterday along with the deep furrow between his brows that signals to you whenever he's worried.

You’d been wanting to ask, but not wanting to pressure him either.

“You ready to eat cowboy?”

His mustache perks up forming into a mischievous smile.

“Cowboy? What happened to sir?”

Jack strides over hamper in both hands, kissing your forehead as you both step out of the room.

You laughed following right after him leaning into his ear, “Sorry...sir.”

Sneakily you reach for his butt giving it a squeeze, earning you a throaty groan out of him heading down the stairs.

He smiles loving the way you touch him, if he wasn’t holding your wedding ring in a fucking hamper he would had you pinned to the wall with his leg between you. Begging for him. Showing you exactly just how much he loves being called sir after teasing him like that.

“You can call me whatever your heart desires darlin’.”

You wrap your arms around his waist pressing your cheek to his back blindly following him to the laundry room door. Even hearing him breathe sounds lighter too, his muscles are relaxed. Perhaps whatever was worrying him is long gone.

Your hand trails a bit further down right above his bulge pressing your fingers to trace the obvious outline.

You love teasing him, getting him riled for later.

With Jack it clearly works because you feel him hardening beneath your fingers, it fills you with pride knowing only you have this affect on him.

"As you wish, master."

You feel the rumble in your ear of his laughter, “Sweets I know what you're doing," he sets the hamper above the washer to reach back to grab your butt.

It was your turn to laugh pressing your forehead to his back escaping his attack, you both will never eat if you don't leave now.

He turns slightly wanting to reach for you, but you grab his hand to help you reach up and plant a kiss on cheek, “I have no idea what you're implying."

Before you left the laundry room he told you to wait in the kitchen, so that he can set up the table with you. He couldn't wait to be around you every passing day and to be surrounded by your laugh, but thank god you let him go to give him time to hide the ring. Where would he hide it for now? He reached down making sure it was still in the box, before putting the clothes to clean and headed out the front door.

“I forgot one more thing to clean, I’ll be right back.”

You nodded, "Okay" scooping up the mash potatoes.

He walked at a calm pace leaving the kitchen to head to the front door pretending to open and close the door, when really he stood in the living room. His mind was racing, he needs somewhere to hide the ring. You liked to read sometimes so book shelves are out of the question, drawers you use them, in fact the whole room was a no-go. You were everywhere in the house already making it your home which made him chuckle.

The only place that's sweets proof is in his own possession, sometimes.

He looks swirls around to the coat rack dropping the ring in his coat pocket, he prays heading back that you don't grab it.

He returns to find you handing him plates to set up the table, unable to peel his eyes away from how you sway your head and hips to Paul Simon's song.

You defintely belong here with him.

Jack starts to feel excited just like that day once upon a time, when you agreed to sneak out your house to spend the day with him.

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You’re easing out of your lucid dreams to find a heavy weight resting on your inner thigh its warm and prickly, your other leg is resting on a soft strong surface. It’s warm as you rub on it, but a hand squeezes that thigh holding you in place. Finding it hard to leave your dreams, you reach for what's between your legs only to gasp at the sensation of wetness from Jack’s lips sucking the plush of your inner thighs.

He’s close to your most sensitive area, the part that tickles with arousal. It makes you squirm, so you reach under the sheets seeking his hair to bunch up in your fist to roughly tug on it.

His groan vibrates throughout your skin hitting the center of your bones, only increasing your need even more.

All you see is the shape of his head under the royal blue moonlight leaving ghostly touches along your thighs reaching your heat, you’re biting your lip feeling him get closer to your underwear. You’re so sure you’re staining it with the heat of your arousal building up inside of you.

“Jack, please what are y-oh fuck!”

He purposely drags his tongue over your underwear, before slipping his fingers moving the panty line to the side. You feel the brisk air of his breath hit your nerves, that are pulsating with excitement just for his him. He kisses your folds tenderly, before sucking on your each making you grind down on him moaning.

He’s woken you up like this so many times before, but every time you’re surprised at how he devours you. You love it.

He brings his fingers into your folds dragging them at a slow pace, he can feel the slick pooling. Holding you still he dips the tip of his tongue swirling dangerously slow taking his time to savor your taste, causing you to close your legs on him.

Jack’s cock twitches at how responsive you are, he pushes his mouth further in you making his nose press your clit. Keeping his own pace.

Tugging on his hair you push down seeking friction, "Fuck, please Jack move."

You're mewling for him clenching your jaw, but he takes his time. He grinds down on the bed finding his own relief while savoring you, he wants to do this for you. He doesn’t care if he cums in his briefs this time even though you’ll give him a hard time later for not finishing inside of you. Whichever way possible.

His cock is starting to spill with precum hearing your shaky voice try to form words.

You feel him detach from you for a second feeling like an eternity only for him to insert his tongue again, but this time he moves his jaw along with your movements. Jack brings his large hands under your knees to place them on his shoulders as he’s swallowing your juices.

You’re close to releasing when the tip of his nose nudges your clit again making you buckle down on him. Jack however, stays there with an iron grip grinding along with you letting you ride his mouth, he knows your close. He can feel the way you clenching. Jack feels his own release surging from hearing your moans and the way you’re slick with arousal just for him it’s enough to send him over the edge, but he keeps going.

“J-Jack I want you in me, please.” You hiss clutching the pillow paying no mind to the fist full of hair you’re gripping, you know he wants to be inside of you also. You want it, but he’s relentless.

"No."

He brings his thick middle finger down curling only slightly while his thumb rubs your exposed bundle of nerves. That was all you needed to release coupled with his husky voice, “This is for you sweets, let go for me.”

Your cheeks burn when he curls his finger again hitting that throbbing spot in your core, clenching around him as you ride out your orgasm. You know he’s close as he starts to curse quietly close to your cunt, he can feel your muscles fluttering around him. His arm reaches out to your breast where you hold him with your own easing himself down from his own orgasm.

Slowly pulling his fingers you groan at the loss inside of you. Jack kisses your thighs again, this time he lingers after every kiss.

You lift up the sheets to have him tower over you.

"That's my girl," he praises.

His mouth is slightly opened to lick the remains of your cum off his fingers, but you stop him bringing his fingers into your mouth. You smile watching him mindful of how hard he's biting his lips feeling your mouth suck on his digits.

You're clenching at the sight, yet relishing at the feel of his cock unconsciously rubbing against your thigh.

Jack prides himself seeing how flushed your hollow cheeks look under the moonlight while sucking his fingers clean. He doesn't know what he loves more, the way you make him hard too quickly or how beautiful you look with the ghostly cascade of soft orange colors on your face.

He reaches down to kiss you, but you stop him to cup his face.

With your eyes locked on his gaze, you drag your tongue on his chin wiping him clean of your arousal. When your tongue reaches his wet lips you lick the bottom lip, before devouring his whimpers in your kiss.

He parts away to catch his breath, “You know darlin’ you got a strong grip.”

You laugh at his observation wrapping your arms around his neck letting him rest his body on you. You find your self loving the weight he adds on your chest pushing you down, he kisses your breast over your shirt.

“I just really wanted you, I always do.”

His heart squeezes at your confession, he has to move now if he plans to propose before you fall asleep.

Lifting his head up your met with soft glimmering eyes, “Let’s go for a ride.”

You both get ready in your usual riding clothes, this time the weather in Kentucky is chilly, so Jack chose to wear his black leather jacket he takes to work. You didn't think much of it, except for why he woke you up this early.

He loves sleeping in whether it’s during a movie, when it’s raining, or when you’re taking a bit longer to get dressed. He always managed to squeeze in a nap, you even tickled his mustache once to wake him up. Which worked, he’s a light sleeper, but it made you worry.

You can’t help but think maybe something was bothering him like his nightmares.

You squeeze his hand looking up at him to get a look at his expression, "You okay, Jack?"

He doesn't seem worried when he looks down smiling, in fact all you see is adoration in his eyes.

"Never better." He kisses the top of your head holding you closer.

Jack is in love and there was no denying that.

Seeing your wildly spirited companion Delilah you’re about to head to her when Jack grips your hand stopping you.

“You ride with me.”

Without waiting for your answer he saddled her up letting you take this moment to admire his fingers tightening the straps. You loved his hands especially when Jack held you close during rides, it was as if you were both one.

So you didn't mind riding with him at all.

He helped you mount Delilah, feeling a little extra handsy when he lifted you by your ass giving it a squeeze making you yelp in surprise.

“Easy cowboy, I still have to get you back for earlier.”

His grin widens from ear to ear mounting himself, pulling you closer to his crotch, “Oh I’m countin’ on it sweets.”

Finding this is the perfect moment to adjust yourself when he reaches for the horse’s reins, you rotate your hips to push your ass back into him giving him a taste of what to come.

You hear a deep sigh which sounds as if he was in holding back. You smirk smiling when you get a look at his hands, confirming your theory. His veins are striking through his skin pumping all the patience he has feeling your ass rub against him. He’s catching on to what you’re doing but he lets you.

He’d let you do anything you want as long as you’re doing it with him.

You both head up the small hill to your usual spot coming to a full stop, just in time to see the sunrise. Jack feels his nerves kicking in, so he places a hand flat on your stomach to hold you close to him. He feels your hands massaging his thighs as they flex, you have no idea how much it's calming him.

Jack can’t deny that the simplest gesture you just did, plus the friction of your ass on his crotch makes his stomach tighten.

You're going to be the death of him, he thinks to himself.

Now the sky’s turning a burnt orange with the clouds creating angelic white rays. It was still brisk, so you rubbed your hands on his thighs this time to warm him and your fingers.

You both sit in silence watching the sun welcome the brand new day, you feel him rest his chin on shoulder while his other hand lets go of the reins. You’re suddenly focusing on the presence of his hand on your stomach, placing your own on his, you wonder how he’d be if you were to be pregnant. You’ve both never spoken about it yet, but you wouldn’t be oppose to it if thats what he’d like. You'd imagine him to be a great father, just like his was.

However you're not sure if you'd be a great mother.

Your parents were stricter, always wanted you to focus on your career instead of wasting time going out with friends. It was tiring, which is why you love being out in the fields. What you do know is that, you'll give them freedom, make them laugh, give them your best, and you'll have Jack by your side, hopefully.

Jack closes his eyes feeling your hand rub his fingers, massaging each knuckle, giving each finger attention. He can’t help but look back at how easily you've managed to always calm him down, he was always rebellious to everyone and causing trouble around town but with you that wasn’t the case.

It was the complete opposite.

You didn't even try to change him really, it was your addicting humor, the ability not to be afraid to call him out, and being honest with him that made him fall for you. He loved your energy, everything about you. It always made him feel young, even now when you wake him up at that butt crack of dawn.

He kisses your cheek whispering softly, “It’s beautiful, I see why you love this, like it's somehow different every time.”

You chuckle to yourself resting your head on the crook of his neck, “That’s how it feels with you actually.”

You dont feel him fidget with his arm inside the coat pocket trying to get the box to open, but he manages to slip the ring into one of his fingers.

Extending that arm out, “You know what else is beautiful?”

You mumble what with your eyes closed facing the sun letting it warm your cheeks when suddenly he pronounces.

“Calling you my wife.”

Your eyes snap open to Jack holding up the most gorgeous emerald ring between his fingers, it has the sun sparkling its gold band imitating white rays like in the sky. The green gem reminds you of the very field you’re on when the sun amplifies the color of the grass, freshly cut.

The one place you felt peace, was now right in front of your eyes being held by the person you taught you how to love.

You’re not sure if the tears pooling in the corner of your eyes are from the way he proposed or that you're about to spend a lifetime together, but you reach for his hand before grabbing the ring.

Your voice cracks failing to form words letting your emotions trickle down your cheeks. You find yourself unable to move clutching hard to Jack’s hand that has the ring.

He whispers feeling his throat raspy, “Is that a yes, sweets?”

You manage to find your words finally.

“Yes of course Jack,” you whisper looking back at him immediately slipping the ring into your left hand.

“I’ll marry you.”

He holds both your hands close to your chest to lean you slightly back to kiss you.

Not as his girlfriend.

But as his wife.

With glossy eyes you look up, “Is this why you’ve been silent these past weeks?”

All you get a breathless laugh leaning his forehead on yours, he simply nods. Your swells thinking of him planning this whole thing and bringing you here to watch the sunrise together.

“Take me home.”

“But the sunrise’s not yet over.”

Your eyes trail passing his lips to his exposed neck, you press your lips feeling his pulse pound against you.

Whispering you say, “You can watch it while I go down on you then.”

You bite onto his neck softly sensing pulse on your tongue this time beat faster.

You did say you were going to get him back.

Almost immediately he hiyahs Delilah to race back home without warning making laugh as you clutch one hand to the horn. You keep the other held onto his hand on wrapped on your stomach, loving the way the ring feels on your finger.

He never once looked up to see the sunset in the sky.

Instead he admired your hand that had the glimmering ring mainting a hold on the base of his cock. He throbbed at the sight while being swallowed by the very lips he kissed not long ago.

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A/N: please lmk if anyone knows who made jack's gif looking at the vial, so I can credit! not me saving hundreds of gifs like pokemon cards :)))

Song Mentioned: I'd like to thank Franki, bestie ilysm for implanting in my head that interview (go to 2:50) where Pedro Pascal says Agent Whiskey's favorite song is 50 Ways to Leave Your Lover. I added that song to the playlist btw I have not known peace since. 😗

also if you've mentioned me in posts im sorry I haven't responded Tumblr is being mean and not alerting me & with messages/chats :((

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stoney-siren · 3 years

Text

May I Have This Dance? PART 2 (Sal Fisher x Reader)

Link to Part 1

Summary: After you confront Ash on your crush on Sal, she takes you to some friends who she believes to have good advice on what you should do. Meanwhile Sal is trying to work up the courage to asking you out.

Warnings: Swearing, possible mentions of drug use, slight angst?

It had been a few days after your conversation with Ashley, that day she had taken you to go meet up with Maple and Chug, who were somehow excellent advice givers. Not only that, but they knew how to keep a secret too, you weren’t too trustful of them at first, but after a couple of days with their lips sealed, you started to trust them a bit more.

So there you were sitting in your apartment with Ash, your mom was out getting groceries, so it gave you two some time to try and plan out how to ask Sal to the prom. Little did you two know that Larry and Sal were doing the exact same thing on the fourth floor in Sals room.

“I was thinking of either wearing this purple dress I have, or a green one.” Ash commented as she messed with her polaroid camera.

“I think the purple would really compliment your eyes.” Ash smiled at your feedback and nodded her head in agreement.

“What do you think Larry, Todd, and Sal are doing?” She questioned, getting up and sitting beside you at your desk and taking a look at what you were writing.

You have been spending almost the whole day writing down ideas on how to ask out Sal, but everything that came to mind just sounded either cheesy, dumb, or both.

“Probably playing some video game on Sals gear boy.” You responded, sitting next to Sal and watching over his shoulder as he attempted to beat a video game was one of your favorite things to do, you found it adorable how he celebrated every time he beat a level.

“Speaking of Sal, these ideas of yours are starting to get pretty creative!” Ash took the paper you had been scribbling on from the desk and started to read what you had been writing.

Quickly, you snatched the paper back, even though you appreciated the compliment, you couldn’t help but imagine every way Sal could turn down every idea you came up with.

Sal stood in front of a mirror in Larrys room, messing with his hair and thinking of how he’d style it for prom.

“You should do a bun, I heard a lot of people find those attractive.” Larry commented from somewhere in the room, he himself was occupying his time with a painting he was working on.

“Nah dude.” He let his hair fall to his shoulders as he removed his pigtails, messing with the blue strands in his face.

“They’ll probably like your hair regardless what it looks like! If you wanna go with something mature then maybe you should just wear your hair down.” He continued to suggest from his easel.

“Yeah maybe,” he began, touching his prosthetic. “Larry, what if I want to kiss them?” That caught his attention real fast.

“Then do it bro! Nothings holding you back, unless of course they don’t want to.” He set his brush down and made his way over to the mirror, putting his hands on Sals shoulders.

“Yeah but.. They’ve never seen me without my prosthetic before, what if I scare them?” This was Sals usual nervous thoughts, always afraid of how his appearance would affect others.

“You’re not gonna scare them, trust me. You know (Y/N) better than that, they’ve gotta be the most kindest, and accepting person we know!” Larry tried to reassure his friend as Sal lowered his hand from his prosthetic, turning his gaze to his feet.

“I guess.” Deep down he knew Larry was right, but all the anxiety pent up inside just wouldn’t budge.

“The dance is in two days, you still have time to think of what you want to say to them.” And that’s all Sal thought of for the next two days, practicing in the mirror, even asking his dad for advice, which ended horribly since Henry was more proud of the fact that Sal wanted to ask someone out rather than giving him advice.

“Mom, I have to get going soon.” You tried to exclaim as your mother snapped another photo of you in your prom dress, part of you was feeling disappointed that you never got to ask Sal to the dance, but he had been avoiding you for the past few days now.

In fact, you actually started to grow worried that somebody might’ve told Sal about your little crush on him, your bets were on Chug. You could see him somehow spilling the beans on accident and then immediately trying to take it back and playing it off as a joke.

“Oh just one more photo!” Your mother cheered, snapping you from your thoughts, but before your mother could continue on with her photo shoot, there was a knock at the door.

“Those are my friends, can I go now?” You asked in a more harsh tone, trying to hint that you were getting impatient. Honestly, your mother could probably fill a whole scrap book with the amount of photos she had taken of you.

“Oh, fine! Maybe I could get a picture with you and your friends though?” She attempted one last time to get a few more pictures out of you.

“Mom!” You whined as you stepped over to the door, opening it to see your dear friends, Larry, Ash, and Sal.

“Heya (Y/N)!” Ash chirpped, she was wearing that purple dress that she spoke of a couple days ago. Larry and Sal were both in suits, and even though Sal still wore that blank prosthetic mask, he looked nervous for some reason.

“Hey (Y/N), y- you look nice.” Sal spoke, and wanted to punch himself for stuttering. Larry nudged Sal lightly and did his best not to burst into laughter right there.

“Thanks Sal! You look lovely too, are we ready to go? Where’s Todd.” You questioned, looking around for that brainy friend of yours.

“He’s helping Chug out with his outfit, he’s kinda nervous since he wants to ask Maple out.” It was Sals turn to nudge Larry back and give him a look from behind his prosthetic.

“Dude! We weren’t supposed to tell anyone!” Ashley and you both laughed a little, and honestly it was because you both knew Chug liked Maple from the start.

“Trust us, our lips are sealed!” You commented, stepping out of her apartment and waving your mom behind before closing the door before she could come attack you four with her camera.

You and the others stepped out of the building into the night, Larry pulled some car keys out of his pocket and unlocked Lisa’s car, which wasn’t far.

“We’re taking your moms car? Please tell me she’s okay with this.” You asked Larry, he only laughed and patted your shoulder.

“Yeah, she’s completely chill with me using her car tonight as long as I don’t wreck it! Only problem is that one of the seats is unavailable, and there’s six of us.” Larry explained.

“I call shot gun then!” Ash shouted as she rushed to the car in heels, it amazed me how fast she could run in those, even if they weren’t that high.

Chug and Todd had made their way out of the apartment just as Ash got to the car, you could now see what Larry was talking about when he said Chug was nervous. The poor guy was sweating bullets.

“Two people are gonna have to sit in the trunk.” Larry continued to explain, and Todd immediately spoke up.

“Chug can’t sit in the trunk, this nervous wreck will throw up all over Lisa’s car.” Chug tried to protest, claiming he wasn’t nervous, but it was clear to everyone that he was.

“I don’t mind sitting in the trunk.” Sal finally spoke, he seemed less nervous than before has he proceeded towards the car.

“Well then it’s settled I guess, (Y/N) and Sal will sit in the trunk, Todd and Chug will sit in the back, and Ash and I will sit in the front!” Before you could even try and argue with him, Larry was following Sal to the car with Chug and Todd close behind.

Why would you even try to fight with him on this? Being stuck in a small space with Sal Fisher? It was the perfect moment to try and make a move, you supposed you just didn’t want the others to overhear you, or end up having Ash tease the both of you.

“So you decided to join me?” Sal joked as you climbed into the trunk and laughed.

“Guess so!” You sat beside him as Larry closed the trunk and got into the drivers seat, starting the car and putting on some heavy metal music. Nobody really seemed to complain since he was giving everyone a ride.

“How are you feeling, (Y/N)?” He continued to conversation as the car was too noisy for anyone else to hear the two of you.

“Fine I guess, a bit nervous.” He seemed to relate to that as he nodded and stared up at the ceiling of the car, the both of you sat side by side, with your hands dangerously close. His nails were painted black, his hand looked so soft and holdable.

“What are you so nervous about? We’re gonna have fun tonight.” He stated that with enough confidence that it almost felt like a fact.

Silence fell between the two of you as Larry’s metal music started to overtake the car, the sound of Todd reassuring Chug mixed into the ambiance of the car. Slowly, just ever so slowly, your hand creeped closer to Sals, your mind raced with thoughts both positive and negative, what if he pulled away? What if he held your hand? Before your hand could even touch his, Larry took a tight turn, and Sals body crashed into yours.

“Larry!” You could hear Ash yell from the front of the car, your head hit the floor of the trunk rather roughly.

“What!” Larry cackled as he continued to drive the car, the pain in your head instantly faded when you made eye contact with the blue haired boy on top of you in a rather intimate position.

“U- Uh- I- I’m so- so sorry (Y/N)!” He immediately sat up and pulled himself off you as you sat up yourself. Before you could try and say anything, Larry took another tight turn and this time you fell against Sals chest, his back colliding with the side of the trunk.

“Larry! Sal and (Y/N) are in the trunk without seatbelts! Could you be a bit more gentle on those turns!?” Todd spoke up this time, you were just praying he wouldn’t turn back and take a look at the two of you, now smushed together.

“S- Sal I’m sorry!” You could feel your face practically about to burst into flames as you tried to pull yourself up, and his hand wrapped around your wrist to help support you.

“I- It’s okay, it’s neither of our faults, just Larry’s reckless driving.” He chuckled off the tension between the two of you as the car started to come to a halt. Todd turned back in his seat as Chug exited the car.

“Hey, we’re here.” He stated bluntly before leaving the car. Larry opened the trunk for the two of you as the both of you climbed out, Sal gave Larry a punch on the shoulder.

With that, most of your friends vanished into the crowd of students you have known for a while, you stuck close to Larry and Sal though as you made your way into the schools gym, which was now decorated surprisngly nicely by your peers. Students were dancing, chatting, and overall having a nice time.

“Hey, hey (Y/N)!” Ash shouted over the music, she looked relieved that she finally found you. It had been almost an hour into prom, and you have just been standing to the side and dancing to some of your favorite songs. Maple had came by a few times to ask you about the Sal situation, but you didn’t have much to say to her. You just didn’t know how to approach him after that moment in the car.

“Yeah Ash?” You responded to her, you knew your voice was gonna be a bit soar after tonight, but who cared?

“I got the DJ to play a slow song after this one! You need to go find Sal!” Ash yelled to you, instantly your face heated back up almost similar to that moment in the car.

“Why would you do that!?” Now beginning to panic, Ash took you by the shoulders and looked you in the eyes.

“Because the both of you need to just get your shit together and dance!” And with that she pushed you off into the crowd to go find Sal.

Instead of finding Sal, you found Travis Phelps, school bully and your friend groups worst enemy. You couldn’t help but sometimes feel bad for the guy though, since you heard his dad was a preacher and he was always looking a little beat up. Travis gave you a disgusted look.

“Oh, it’s you, I overheard you and that bitch.” He sneered, you wanted to defend Ashley, but he went on. “Do you really think that freaks gonna wanna dance with you?”

“Shut up Travis, all you ever do is pick on us, I don’t understand what we did to deserve your cruelty!” You replied, clearly upsetted by his comment.

“Whatever, can’t wait to hear all about how Sally Face rejected you tonight!” His final remark made your heart sink, as you heard a familiar voice from behind you. Sal was standing there with Larry close behind, looking ready to beat the crap out of Travis.

Waves of embarrassment washed over you as Sal just seemed to blankly stare at you, was Travis right? Did he really not like you like that? You didn’t want to think about it, you did the only thing you could think of, which was to run away from the three of them and escape to the outside of the school.

You hated Travis for doing that to you, he let everything you worked so hard on just slip out right in front of Sal. Hot tears filled your eyes as you collapsed to your knees, attempting to frantically wipe your tears.

“Stupid, stupid..” You mumbled, the music from the gym had made its way outside the building now muffled though and more quiet, you always hated how loud school gatherings would play their music. As you attempted to contain yourself, you heard the door you exited from open and close, and a soft and gentle voice call out to you.

“(Y/N)?” Sal called, the sound of his shoes against the concrete floor rang in your ears as you lifted your head.

“Sal.. I’m sorry. I..” You were lost for words, what were you suppoed to tell him? Try and lie? Tell the truth? You soon snapped out of it again as you heard slow music begin to play from inside the gym, and Sal offered his hand out to you a bit hesitantly.

“(Y/N), may I have this dance?” Your heart sank as you quickly took his hand, he pulled you onto your feet and wrapped an arm around your waist, keeping his other hand entangled with yours.

The both of you were so close that you could hear him softly breathe against his prosthetic, your heartbeats were almost in sinc as he began to lead you passively with the song. His eyes remained on yours, and yours remained on his.

“Sal,” you began, he was all ears, “Do you like me?” He lightly laughed at your comment, which made you a bit nervous until he responded.

“(Y/N), I’ve had a crush on you for like, three years. I’ve been waiting for a moment like this since forever.” He spoke softly, you never knew that he could be this romantic, it made your heart just want to burst from your chest.

The song eventually ended, but Sal continued to hold you, slowly he untangled his hand with yours and touched the bottom of his prosthetic. You had always silently theorized what Sal may have looked like under his prosthetic, so excitement overcame you as Sal slowly lifted his prosthetic off his face.

“You’re.. A work of art.” The compliment escaped your lips before you could even process them, his cheeks grew deep red as he sheepishly smiled.

“Thank you, (Y/N), would you.. Or.. Could I um.. Kiss you?” He softly asked, of course you responded with a nod before pulling him into a light kiss. Sal instantly dropped his prosthetic and carressed the side of your face with his now free hand, you wrapped both your arms around his neck as he kissed you back lovingly and passionately.

When the two of you separated, you both were blushing messes, and lost for words. Your moment was at and end when you heard Larry open the door and call out for you two, Sal took your hand and gave you a caring smile.

“We should head back now, okay? Enjoy the rest of the night.”

A/N: Thanks to everyone who read this :) if you want more Sally Face content lmk!

#sally face #sal fisher #sal fisher x reader #sally face x reader #larry johnson #ashley campbell #todd morrison

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Loved Chapter 5

Sort of wanted to do something more elaborate with this, but it just wasn't happening. Meh.

“But you aren’t really real, are you?”

Tucker’s question killed the mood fast than a bullet. Danny and Sam stared at him from their side of the blanket nest.

“You want to rephrase that?” asked Sam, glaring, arms crossed.

“Uh,” said Tucker, sweat starting to form on his upper lip. “I mean, clearly you’re real, just… maybe not entirely physical? You, it’s,” he made a sort of twisting gesture with one of his hands. “People who aren’t from here can’t see you. They can’t even touch you. That sort of implies that you’re not on the same level of reality as them.” He shrugged. “You call the other place the Dream, right? Maybe you’re in, like, a kind of daydream or something.”

Danny twisted a corner of a blanket in his hands. “No,” he said.

“Danny,” started Tucker.

“No,” repeated Danny. “I can’t—” He noticed he was breathing heavily, his eyes unfocused enough that he could see—No. “Tucker, I don’t—I don’t think I even have free will anymore.” No matter how much he Loved Clockwork and craved Love in return, no matter how glad he was that the dark future would never come to pass, that grated at times. “I need—” He gulped air.

(Before, if he was this panicked, his heart would be thundering in his chest. Now, it was far too quiet.)

Sam put a hand on his back, steadying. Tucker reached out, too, but hesitated, unsure.

“I need to be real,” he said. He needed to still exist, still be human, at least in part. He couldn’t lose that, too. No matter what else he might gain.

“You are real,” said Tucker. “I’m sorry, I—” He cursed lightly under his breath, “—I wasn’t thinking. It’s just… Maybe something you should think about. Maybe—Maybe you aren’t coming completely out of… I don’t know. Wherever you go.”

“Maybe,” said Danny, struggling to get his breathing back under control. “Maybe. I just. Not right now.”

“Okay,” said Tucker. “Yeah. What were we talking about before?”

“Who cares?” asked Sam. “Let’s watch a movie.”

“That sounds good,” said Danny.

Danny woke up first the next morning, which was somewhat unusual. Sam was definitely a night-owl, but Tucker woke up fairly early. He stepped over them, feet silent on the floor. Almost as if they weren’t really there.

He shook his head. Not now.

He went to the bathroom and took care of things slowly, deliberately, as if to impress upon his body that he was human.

Sam and Tucker still weren’t awake when he came back. Also, when he thought about it, the rest of the house was eerily silent as well.

No… There was music. Was that coming from outside? He closed his eyes to listen better and caught himself drifting off while standing.

That was abnormal. He knelt and shook Sam and Tucker’s shoulders. They didn’t stir.

Someone was here. And they were here without Danny knowing. That was bad. That was really bad.

He went to his parents’ room. They were asleep, too.

There was a nonzero possibility that he was the only one awake. (Assuming he had ever been awake in the first place and not, as Tucker put it, daydreaming.)

He went out, following the music. Music suggested Ember, but this didn’t seem to be her style. She preferred motion, energy, vibrance. This was quieter, subtler.

Then again, none of the others made sense.

(At least, Danny liked to pretend they didn’t.)

The music wasn’t louder outside, but it was clearer. The scent of something sweet floated on the air. Something warm. Like honey.

Was something buzzing?

Danny shook his head again, forcing himself back into awareness. Maybe he should try and figure out what was going on from inside the Dream. It wasn’t possible to fall asleep there. At least, Danny never had.

(Assuming he wasn’t always partially in the Dream, like Tucker said.)

On the other hand, it often helped to observe what was going on in the real world, on the surface of things, before diving. As messy as fights could be in the real world, winning them in the Dream was harder.

He forged on, periodically pinching himself. He wasn’t the only one on the streets, but he was the only one on the streets that wasn’t passed out. It looked like there had been some car crashes.

That’s when he saw her.

She stood in the middle of an intersection, looking away from him. She was built like a centaur, except the lower part of her body more closely resembled a massive deer than a horse. An elk, perhaps. Both her deer-portion and her human-portion had night-black skin, studded with white stars. Antlers curved and branched above her curly hair. A crown of red flowers sat on her head. She wore no other clothes.

Danny did not notice any of this at first. No, what first jumped out at him was the unmistakable chain of Love binding him to her and vice versa.

He’d never met anyone like this, so—

She turned to face Danny. But she didn’t have a face. She had a mask. A well-made mask that had both eye-holes and a mouth with lips that seemed to curve. It was also covered with pulsing, swirling, hypnotic patterns. Black and white chased each other across the mask, not respecting the mask’s physical curves.

Danny could feel his mind start to go fuzzy. Felt the ground go soft under him as he sank into the Dream. A distant part of him wanted to look away, but the rest of him could only blink slowly, captivated.

“Come,” she said in a fascinating combination of an out-loud voice and a True Voice, tugging lightly on the chain that attached Danny to her.

Danny complied, trotting out into the intersection. When he was most of the way there, she turned away again.

“Follow,” she ordered.

Danny did, vaguely noting how rapidly the sidewalks and concrete buildings of Amity Park flowed into smoothly rolling hills covered in grass and flowers. The air grew heavier. Hotter. The perfume of the flowers combined with the buzzing of the bees and the gentle music served to make Danny even drowsier than before.

Still, he could hardly nod off in this situation, walking behind her, Love connecting them.

Sluggishly, belatedly, a name came to mind. “Nocturne,” he said. The name tasted like milk and honey, like chamomile tea, like sleep. She stopped and inclined her head slightly towards him. “You’re different from before.”

“We haven’t met,” she said. Then she turned more fully, the lips on her mask curving into a smile. “Has our parent been showing you Dreams of me? Perhaps I looked more like this.” She changed, her body warping before Danny’s eyes to become an impossibly tall man completely covered in starry black robes. Except, of course, for his mask and curved, ram-like horns. “This is as good a place as any, I suppose.”

Danny nodded, not quite sure what he was agreeing to, and looked around. Amity Park was nowhere in sight. The hills were a little lumpy, as if the grass and moss were growing over oddly shaped rocks.

“Let’s sit,” said Nocturn, lowering himself elegantly to the ground.

Danny followed, movements clumsy and blurred by sleep. He blinked, and found his hands occupied by a large mug. He looked up at Nocturne. Had he given this to Danny, or…?

Nocturne smiled. Danny looked away, not feeling like getting caught in the hypnotic swirls of his mask again. There was something off about those rocks under the grass. Something about their shape…

Then he saw it and inhaled sharply through his teeth.

Bodies. They were bodies. Still breathing, but…

He looked back at Nocturne. He’d known Nocturne was being too nice to him. He was new to being other, but not new to being a younger sibling. Older siblings only acted like this when they had set up everything in their favor. When they wanted something.

Even knowing this, he struggled to keep his eyes open. Could he fall asleep in the Dream?

“What are you doing to them?” he asked. “How do I wake them up.”

Nocturne hummed. “I have an idea. Play a game with me, sibling, and I’ll tell you.”

“What kind of game?”

“You ask me a question, and for every answer I give you, I get something from you.”

“Like, an answer from me,” said Danny, trying to clarify his position, “or something else?”

Nocturne’s smile showed teeth.

“If I play this game,” said Danny, “I have to be able to say when it ends.” He didn’t want to be dancing around conversational pitfalls every time he interacted with Nocturne, after all. They were siblings.

(And though Love was not trust, it was Love. And Love was undeniable.)

“Of course,” agreed Nocturne, easily.

“Alright, then,” said Danny. He adjusted his grip on the mug.

The grass was crawling. He blinked, hard, and shook his head, dislodging two bees that had landed on his ear.

“How do I wake them up?” he asked.

“You can’t,” said Nocturne.

Danny paused, waiting for Nocturne to take what he wanted.

“You have other questions.”

“Aren’t you going to take something from me, for the question?”

“Yes, I am.”

Danny pursed his lips, realizing he had just wasted a question.

“If I can’t wake them, who or what can?”

“I could. Or they could wake themselves.”

Danny mulled over what that could mean. He had no idea where to start with the second part, but the first…

“What would I have to do, to get you to wake them?”

“You—”

The chain around Danny’s neck went taut, pulling him through the fabric of the Dream at breakneck speeds. He was in Clockwork, his sibling behind him.

You must not bully your sibling, my dear. I have enough love for both of you. You do not need to be jealous.

Danny swayed. Now that so much of the tension between him and Nocturne was gone, he was no longer able to use it to support his wakefulness.

Drink your milk, little Love. You’ll be able to find your friends.

Danny nodded sleepily and tipped the mug back. He didn’t remember what happened after that.

“Hundreds of Amity Park citizens are still in comas as health officials race to find the cause of the mysterious event. Some say that gas leaks are to…”

Danny tuned out the TV and glared at his cereal. He knew he had fallen asleep in the Dream and had done something, but the memory was beyond him. Maybe whatever it had been was beyond an even partially human mind.

Or whatever kind of mind Danny had.

His fingers twitched. He was going to go down again later today, to see if Clockwork would help him find everyone else. If they could be found at all. He didn’t want to. He was angry. Angry that this had happened, that it was still happening. Amity Park was his, and Nocturne had no right to try and steal and break and—

The terrible part, was that even though he was angry, his general desire to reach out to Nocturne, to lean on their Love… That had not diminished.

He looked forward to seeing them again.

The news continued to talk about the coma victims.

#danny phantom #eldritch abomination au #dannymay #dannymay day 13: daydream #dannymay 2021

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moonchildlov · 3 years

Text

Bucky Barnes Pov - My world

Time was not on Bucky's side as he kicked down doors taking out men merciless for you. You were taken and damn sure he wasn't gonna let them win. He couldn't, you are his whole world, the one perfect thing in this cold cruel world. Why couldn't he keep you safe. That was his promise to you.

What seemed like an eternity and a broken nose, dislocated shoulder and bullet wound to his side. He could hear the screaming. He knows your scream and the thought made his heart burst. They were hurting you, and that wasn't gonna fly on his watch. He groaned, kicking the wall, popping his shoulder back in place, quickly grinding his teeth from the pain. This was it. They went too far. He steadied the knife in his hand pushing past the pain he felt physically and emotionally. He took a deep breath and something felt like it snapped in him.

He kicks down the door wasting no time attacking each of the men so effortlessly. "Bu..bucky.." your weak cracked voice could barely form a sentence. You were going in and out and you weren't sure how long you could hold on.

After finishing off the last man, Bucky's attention immediately turned to you dropping his knife and practically crumbling down to you. "Come on baby...eyes on me love," he taps your cheek. Anything to keep you awake breaking the restraints from the chair.

"Don't forget about me metal man…" you chuckle coughing your voice so dry. Your body is covered in cuts, bruises. Your eyes are red and cheeks tear stained.

"No hey, you're not allowed to talk like that..I'm gonna get you out of here," Bucky picks you up wasting no time limping some realizing his side is getting worse but refuses to let this stop him.

"You..remember that time you got mad at..me for accidentally putting my red sock in the washing machine with your clothes and everything got messed…" you recall laying against his chest your breathing slowing down.

"Of course I do..I remember everything, don't speak like this y/n, you're gonna be okay...we are gonna be okay," Bucky says trying to find an exit fast.

"Or the time you brought me flowers on our first date…you thought I hated them but I loved them. Like I..i.." you start to feel like you are slipping away.

"No! Y/n C'mon we are almost there.." he shakes you some while holding you getting you to the exit point.

"I..I love you.." You hold his cheek with your hand shaking knowing this is it, smiling at him as it fades and your arm falls to your side as you take your last breath, the light leaving your eyes.

"No...no Y/n!!"

Bucky wakes up breathing hard sitting up on the bed hunching over. The sweat rolling down his bare chest gripping the sheets in his hands. He hears thunder and lightning startled a little. He reaches over to grab you and sees the bed empty getting up and opening the door walking hastily to the living room and lets out the biggest sigh of his life.

There you were with the lamp light on laying back on the couch, feet resting on the coffee table with your blanket listening to your Louis Armstrong "la vie en Rose," loving the aesthetic 40's music gives you while your eyes were focused and fixated on the yarn and hook crocheting.

Bucky leaned one arm against the wall still trying to figure out what the hell he had just dreamt. He comes over to you sitting next to you laying his head on your shoulder.

You immediately turned your attention from your little project seeing Bucky. "Hey..what's wrong baby?" You take your hands placing them on either side of his face as he looks like he is about to burst in tears.

"You..they...God I thought.." he says in a shaky breath resting his head against yours.

"Shhh, it's okay. I'm sorry my love.." you run a hand through his hair kissing his forehead long.

Bucky doesn't say anything letting his silent tears tell the rest. You both sat there in silence. No words, just the music playing on the vinyl in the background.

Bucky caresses your cheek in his hand finding your lips to remind himself that this is real. He kisses you tenderly. "Thank you.." he says, calming down.

"Of course honey," you reassure him, kissing his shoulder as he wraps and arm around you looking at your project, smiling softly.

"I hope these fit her.." you giggle holding up two pink booties.

"They will," he smiles, placing his hand on your stomach rubbing it softly knowing that in a couple months you and him will have a little someone joining you soon.

You smile proud of your work placing little bows on them for finishing touches.

Bucky just takes in the moment being reminded that he has you, you're safe, and this was his world. With that in peace of mind, he enjoys the night with you.

#mcu #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes #tfatws #pov #winter solider fanfiction #marvel #sebstian stan

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xwing-baby · 3 years

Text

Living The Dream (Javier Peña x f!Reader)

For #WriterWednesday hosted by @autumnleaves1991-blog

Summary: A new house, dog and a baby on the way, Javier’s life couldn’t get any more perfect... its a dream come true.

Word count: 1.6k (good things come in small packages)

Warnings: Angst (cus duh), blood and injury description, mentions of pregnancy, dog death, hardly edited.

Masterlist

—

A tiny little house in the country, with a dog and a child on the way, was not how Javier thought his year would end but he wouldn’t change it for the world.

In the chaotic and dangerous life he led he never thought he would settle for more than two minutes let alone marry someone. You’d snuck up on him, coming out of nowhere to drag him into domesticity. Drag is the wrong word because he willingly went despite how much he pretended to drag his feet. He fell into it comfortably, he was even the one to suggest the house in the first place. You were happy in his apartment in Bogotá but Javier traded you a dog and you couldn’t say no.

A house, a girl, a dog. All he had ever wanted. Everything he swore he did not deserve but he could not imagine anything else now. Everything felt a little more manageable when he could come home to you. His own little oasis away from all the devils that haunted him in Bogotá or Medellín .

Javier planned to show Steve the new house on the drive back into Bogotá . You’d moved in a few weeks ago and everything was basically unpacked now, Javi was desperate to show off to his partner and could barely wipe the smile from his face as he pulled in.

The house was an old farmhouse, covered in iconic white plaster and red tile. The surrounding farm land had been sold off years ago, but left the house with a sizable garden around it to do whatever you wanted. There was enough for the baby to happily grow up and play in when the time came, for now the dog just chased rats through the long grass.

It was a mess when you bought it, but you were handy enough to get on with decorating and fixing up holes in walls while Javier was away working. He loved that part. Though he never admitted it, he always worried about you when you were working in the city. He never knew where you were until you came home. It was a lot easier to keep you safe, in his mind, with you at the house all day. You had done a fantastic job. For someone who claimed to have never even painted a wall before, the house was looking nice. It was becoming a home.

He called your name as he entered expecting to hear your music floating through the house. Instead he was met with silence.

“Must be asleep,” Javi said to Steve, “Pregnancies kicking her ass already,”

“Still can’t believe you’re gunna be a dad, man,” Steve clapped him on the shoulder, “I’ll get Connie to give y’all some baby books when she comes over,”

The two men chatted about the house, the baby, and everything else that had once seemed so out of the question for Javier but was now commonplace. He pulled beers from the fridge, cracking each open before sliding it across the patio table to sit and enjoy in the sunshine. They didn’t have anything to get back to urgently. The stop was justified and needed.

“Where’s that mutt of yours?” Steve asked looking around. In the weeks before the house was liveable, Javi had kept the dog at the apartment and used the Murphy’s as dog sitters whenever needed. Steve was excited to begin with but became a little more ambivalent when he ate his shoes one day. He was very happy when you moved him out to the house permanently.

“Must be with Y/n, they’re inseparable at the moment. In fact I will go check on her, she’ll be pissed if you leave without her seeing you,” Javier emptied his bottle and stood up. Steve chuckled and nodded.

Javier hadn’t been around the house as much as you had. Every time he had been you’d been close by making some kind of noise, a radio on somewhere in the house playing music with you singing along to it. He wasn’t used to it being quiet. It made the whole house seem so much bigger.

He walked upstairs to your bedroom, noticing the photos you had put up while he was gone. Simple wooden frames held photos from your wedding, photos of your family, and his favourite photo of you and him, taken by Steve candidly on the first day you had met. No one knew then just what would come from that one conversation but he was so happy it had led him here.

He pulled himself out of the fond memory and continued along the hall to your shared bedroom. The door was open, sunlight streaming in through half drawn curtains, the entire house was still. He smiled to himself, knowing that behind the door would be one of his favourite sights. He did not doubt that he would find Ringo, the dog, and you curled up on the bed. As much as Javi protested that the dog couldn’t sleep in your bed he knew you let him in as soon as he left in the morning.

Javier called your name again, listening carefully as he crept into the room. A full laundry basket sat on the floor, underwear and socks scattered the wooden floor boards. The drawers were open. You never left things untidy like that. Javier wasn’t the most untidy person in the world but you kept everything pristine. You wouldn’t just take a nap mid task. He frowned and touched the door to push it open.

“Peña!” Steve suddenly called urgently from downstairs. Javi knew that tone, instantly putting him on alert. You could wait for a moment. Javier stopped and turned back, leaving the door as it was and jogged back downstairs.

He came outside to see Steve, white as a sheet with grief written across his face.

“What is the-,” Javier started as he walked towards his partner. Steve brought him around the side of the house and Javi looked down and saw what was bothering him, “Oh fuck,” Javi swore the entire world stopped in that moment. Poor Ringo, shot in the head where he stood around the side of the house, just left without a care on the ground.

“I found him like that I swear! I am so sorry man,” Steve quickly explained. Javier wasn’t listening, couldn’t hear anything but alarm bells, his mind only thinking of one thing. You.

In a second Javier turned and ran back inside the house, picking up his gun from the kitchen counter where he’d left it. Steve followed quickly, keen on his heels. Javier knew exactly where to look, running up the stairs three at a time. He barrelled into your shared bedroom, praying that you were asleep and the dog was just an accident.

If his world had slowed at the sight of the dog the entire universe had stopped now.

He couldn’t move his feet, mouth agape in total shock at the sight before him.

There was blood everywhere. On the bed, on the walls, even on the ceiling. Three bullets marked the walls behind the headboard. So much blood. He didn’t understand how he had not smelt it when he was outside a few moments earlier.

They had not been kind in your death, three shots to the stomach meant you did not die quickly. You were sprawled out on top of the sheets, still in your pyjamas. The white shirt you wore, Javi’s shirt, was now deep red, soaked through. There was a handprint dragged over the landline phone on your bedside table, glass and book knocked over in your effort to call for help. You hand still reached for it, so close yet so far.

Steve heard his cry of agony and ran in. He saw you, then Javi, and his heart sank. You were dead, there was nothing he could do now but he had to get Javier up. He pulled at his shirt trying to get him to move but was only met with violence as he ripped himself out of Steve’s grip away.

“Javi,”

“Javier! Wake up!”

Javier’s eyes finally opened, his chest heaving and covered in sweat he was dazed for a moment before he finally looked at you. Your heart broke at the sight. He looked at you with such terror in his eyes, you didn’t have a chance to say anything before he grabbed you and pulled you in tight to his chest.

“It was just a dream,” You comforted him, “It’s okay,”

He took a deep but shaking breath, taking in the scent of your hair. He didn’t speak. Couldn’t. It felt so real.

Slowly, he let you go and sat up wiping his hands over his face to clear the tears on his cheeks. He looked around him. He was in his apartment, three am on the clock. There was no dog, no baby, no new house. No body. It was just a dream.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You asked, sitting up with him and putting a hand on his shoulder, lightly rubbing his warm skin. He shook his head.

“It was just a dream,” He said softly.

The reality was he couldn’t afford to give you that vulnerability yet. He couldn’t let you know just how much he liked you for exactly the reason his dream had shown him. He was dangerous to be around. If you stayed, while it would be nice for a while, someone would pull the rug out from underneath you both eventually. It could only end in disaster. He would rather keep you at a distance, emotionally at least, so when that day came it would maybe hurt a little less.

He settled back down again, pulled you closer with your head on his chest. He could have you for now, like this, and let his imagination run wild with ideas of a picket fence future. But, to protect you that was all it could ever be. A dream.

—

A/n: I don’t know what is wrong with me... I am sorry Javi one day I will write something nice for you but today is not that day.

tagging: @autumnleaves1991-blog @hunters-heathen @beskarbabs @wille-zarr @all-hallows-evie