#god I hate parents so much some times like why are you purposely setting up your child for harmful habits WHY

[tealchameleon]

Hi everyone! Used to work at Ulta and can tell you myself this is genuinely such a huge problem. DAILY I would have little girls as young as 6-7 asking for retinol, hyaluronic acid, lip plumpers, lash growing serum, you name it. And pretty much everytime I got crucified, either by the girl or the parents, bc I had to do exactly what OP did and tell them they are too young to be using all this stuff and that it could rly mess them up.

But the worst is when I saw the parents openly encouraging it. The mom who hears her 10 year old daughter say “I really need concealer/serum/etc to fix this” and agrees for whatever reason “yes you do.” Some are just plain ignorant like OP described but unfortunately a lot are aware (at least somewhat) and just do not care bc their precious baby wants it and they are too scared to say no, or they actually believe the kid really needs all that shit and are misogynistic themselves.

It’s patriarchy at its finest getting disseminated thru social media and then shitty parents perpetuating it even further. Just like how everyone was making memes a few years ago about how they looked at 13 vs how the IG child models look at 13. It’s the exact same thing now except the IG child models in the situation are now even younger. social media instills the beauty standard earlier and earlier and sexualize pre pubescent girls into pedophilic fantasy and so now we’re at the point of 8 year old girls trying to do intense skincare regimens and full face makeup (both things I was asked about pretty much daily by little girls). All bc they watch shit like tiktok and IG unrestrained and get told that this is how you be a girl and this is how you be pretty and pretty means you have worth especially on social media. And at that point I rly can’t blame anyone but the parents who not only let them watch that shit but then feed into it by turning around and buying them drunk elephant, Sunday Riley, you name it.

Telling your 8 year old daughter she cannot use skincare meant for people 40+ is not going to hurt her. It does not make you a mean parent nor does it make you misogynistic to tell her she’s too young for that. Yes all people should have the independence to do what they want with their bodies but a child literally does not know better and it is your job to help them make healthy choices and habits and not just let them do whatever bc “it makes them happy.” Be an involved parent and know what your kid is getting into before you let them dive into it headfirst. Bc if not you will have a daughter with horrific self image issues who spends hundreds on skincare instead of toys or books or literally anything a healthy child would want, buying more and more products to try and fix what the last product did to her skin bc her skin was not meant to be taking all these chemicals and acids at such a young age. It’s a vicious cycle and all you have to do to stop it is be an active parent and not let your kid fall down these horrible rabbit holes. You can let your child have freedom and independence without allowing them to pursue things that are blatantly harmful to both their bodies and their minds.

I just made a 6 year old girl really mad at me in the mall and it was actually a heartbreaking experience

Because I was picking up more moisturiser, and this clearly really young girl and her mother came in to shop skin products, and her mother picked up a combined kit and was like “This is the one you want? Okay I guess” and I took a peak and gently butted in and told her mother I thought that was a really bad idea because she looked super young and those products had a bunch of actives

This little girl was glaring at me like I kicked her puppy while I chatted to her mother, who seemed really embarrassed she didn’t know that, asked some questions, and told me her daughter was 6, obsessed with skincare, said all the other girls at school had similar products, and always watched YouTube videos + Tiktoks about these things.

I told her pretty bluntly it’s a bad idea for young people to use most of these actives/products, gave her some keywords to search online so she’d have a better idea about what to look up and learn more, and suggested maybe they could work on instead building a routine with washing faces with water, a little dab of a very neutral moisturiser and some sunscreen every day (let’s be clear - this little girl does not need a skincare routine, but it’s a compromise without completely shitting on her and helps routine building in life anyway)

I told this kid she was really pretty and she didn’t need anything, and I’m sorry I ruined her fun but I didn’t want her to burn her face with something like retinol or salicylic acid. She was not impressed.

Please chat with the young people in your life about these things, get some rudimentary knowledge if they’re asking for products like this, and please be careful!

[sylenth-l]

Hi hello, I love your art so much LIKE MY BROTHER. IT'S SO YUMMY, THE SHADOWS THE EXPRESSIONS, I love how you draw Timur , Felwinter and Osiris together 🙏 little bird with his two funky adoptive parents. I stare at your art like , I'm always ready and hyped to give traditional art another try ✨

If I was to go back, any tips for which watercolours to pick? I so far got only aniline colours.

Aah, thank you so much!! 😳💙

Hmmm, the thing is, I use fountain pen inks almost always for painting. I don't use watercolour much, so I can't really suggest anything in particular… I have a selection of colours from different brands, of course, I know quite a lot about pigments, and I like using watercolour from time to time to add some special effects to my works. For sketching outdoors it's also the easiest to use among all other paints, probably. But painting a whole artwork with it……… I try doing it sometimes, but every single time I end up thinking "God, I wish I used inks instead, I hate this so much, why is it so BLEURGH". I guess watercolour just isn't my medium 😂 

I can share my thinking process when building up a palette though, I use it with all mixable mediums I use, be it inks, watercolour, gouache, etc. I found it to be the most effective (and money-saving, lol) approach for me.

So what I want for my main mixing palette is to have 3 sets of primary trios. All colours also must be as smooth as possible, with no surprises or unwanted colour separation. For watercolour - not granulating ones.

(my camera tends to make all colours brighter and also fails to see the subtle difference between some shades, but you can still get the idea)

The first trio is extremely vivid, consisting of bright cool colours - lemon yellow, cyan, magenta-leaning pink. It gives you access to all the bright, open colours.

Second is the classic they teach in all art schools (probably, from what I've heard, I never went into one alkjdshfk) - sunshine yellow, bright warm red and ultramarine blue. This gives you a huge selection of warmer, natural colours, like all shades of golds, eggplant purples, olive greens, etc. It also allows some nice selection of wood browns.

Third is my personal favorite, the muted trio. You kinda can get similar colours from the previous trio, but I prefer having these separately, because of how often I use them all. It consists of golden ochre-leaning yellow, dark bloody red and dark indanthrone blue. It gives you the most beautiful browns, beiges, blacks and other rich, deep colours.

On top of that I also like to have at least one decent black (in my case it's Quink Black ink, I cannot live without it).  And these 10 would be my essentials. Other colours I add to my mixing palette are basically shortcuts to the shades I find myself mixing the most - like a few browns and violets. There are also a few inks that I need for some very specific purposes - like, I have a very vivid cold magenta ink to mix a certain bright cold shade of the Void, and also a fluorescent orange for adding shiny Exo LED lights. And etc.

(Actually I'm currently in the process of re-organizing my main palette and also considering making a few small sets for painting some characters specifically)

I also have a separate selection of chromatographic inks, which can probably be compared to granulating watercolours… But not quite. A few examples:

Here I don't have any special notes or advices, just get the ink you like and enjoy it. Some of these I use so often that I always keep them in my main palette, and others I only get out for some special occasion. These are also mixable btw - I constantly add other ink in Quink Black to get different shades of it.

However, I must say that not all of the ~special effects~ inks are polite and well-behaved, some will agree to work only on some specific paper after a significant amount of coaxing, and others will straight out say "fuck you" at the most crucial moment, even if they worked perfectly just a moment ago.

Btw, when working with inks, I really recommend to put it into smaller bottles with a dropper, so you don't have to open the big bottle each time. It's both easier to use for you and much safer for inks! 

ANYWAY, I hope this post was of some use for you 🌈

[the-eldritch-it-gay]

would love to hear about Abjid lore so much!!! what are you currently thinking about??? 👀

So, I created Abjid in line with my homebrew take on Aasimar, which mainly just makes aasimar look cool (and made it so aasimar are less like one race, but a phenomenon seen in all races). Which is why for one, Abjid has elf ears-- both of their parents were high elves, so they take on their features. But also why Abjid had:

Antlers

A tail

Wings (and the acompanying extra set of shoulders, collarbones, and pectoral muscles to support wings)

Eyes all over their body

Hoofed feet

Pupil-less gold eyes

Glittering skin

Sharp teeth

Essentially my homebrew made it so Aasimar could look as wild as they wanted and have any combination of features.

NOW anyone who might be familiar with Abjid has probably seen drawings of them where many of these features are noticeably absent. While I draw Abjid with glittering skin, gold eyes, hooves, and sharp teeth, the other features are missing. Which is not an error, but a purposeful choice!

(tw btw! non-graphic discussion of like, removal of wings/antlers)

See, Abjid's backstory essentially boils down to the fact that they died young, were buried in an unmarked grave, and then some people worshipping a chaotic evil god exhumed their body to use in a summoning ritual for The Shadow.

During the ritual and ensuing Posession and calamity, Abjid's wings were cut off. (Lowkey as a visual reflection of the fact that when they were ressurected, they were a Fallen Aasimar). In some art I've drawn that on their back they have scarred stumps instead of wings. The ritual and calamity also are the reason behind their lack of tail.

BUT you may be asking, okay what about their antlers? Antlers are something that grow.

And THAT is a bit of lore that I had tucked away but that never came up.

Abjid themselves would routinely remove their own antlers.

Why? Well, plenty of reasons. For one, they could use the antlers for various purposes. While undead, they lived alone deep in a forest, so they largely made their own tools and such, and could use the antler to make things they need. Another reason was they could sell them, for things they needed but couldn't procure themselves they would try to sell their own antlers.

The other reason, though, was that antlers can tell their age. And they don't want people to know that, but more importantly, they don't want to know that. They don't want to know how old they are, how long they've been like this.

Their eyes, also, are missing, at least the extra ones. But also, people who have seen some art of them might notice that I draw them with many scars, ones that are symmetrical all over their body. I have two possible ideas I never solidified (since they never came up), either that their eyes met a similar fate to their wings and the scars are from such the event. The other thought was that they still have the eyes, but they're (potentially) permanently closed, in line with their status of being Fallen. In either case though, they remain as a reminder to Abjid about what happened to them, and something they dislike about themselves.

BUT also another thing about Abjid's apperance! The tragic irony which Abjid is unaware of. When they were alive they spent most of their time buying potions and charms to change their appearance, to hide their wings and eyes and antlers, so they could just, blend into a crowd, hide the features that their father hated. They just wanted a chance to be normal, to not have their aasimar features. But undead, now, they lack many of those features and hate it because to them its a reminder of what happened to them and the blood on their hands :)

[chateautae]

maybe i do | kth. I

➵ summary :  maybe you love each other, maybe you don’t. when a deal between your fathers leaves you forcefully wedding kim taehyung, arguably seoul’s most powerful CEO, you’re prepared for a loveless marriage of eternal regret and unhappiness. but maybe, it doesn’t turn out that way after all.

↳  part of the high-class series!

➵ pairing : taehyung x reader

➵ genre :  arranged marriage!au, ceo!tae, s2l!au, eventual smut, fluff, angst 

➵ rating : 18+

➵ word count : 11k

➵ warnings : swearing, alcohol consumption, anxiety, lots of feels about marriage, a stupid ex (reader’s), mentions of bad sexual experiences with ex (there’s consent, just bad sex that makes the reader feel shitty), does ceo tae count as a warning? 

➵ a/n: hello my first fic of my favourite trope arranged marriage, AND with kim taehyung?? yes pls !! this will be a series and I’ll be actively working on it so you don’t have to wait too long for chapters, i hope you can follow this series with me <33

chapter one : “my forever’s falling down”  

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“Another one, Father? I thought I told you my secretary would be handling marriage profiles from now on. Stop concerning yourself with who I marry.” 

“But I do, son. Trust me, I know this girl, she’s the daughter of a trusted friend and I think she’s a good match.” 

“Father, everyone you choose for me I dislike and it’s distracting me from my work. I don’t need this right now.” 

“She’s different, Taehyung. I personally know her and I’m certain you won’t say no.” 

“And why is that?” 

“There’s something about her you won’t refuse, son, you’ll notice it when you meet her.” 

“I don’t want to meet her, Father. Like I said, I need to work.” 

“I just knew you’d act this way. Want to know something, son? I’ve made her part of a business deal, you can’t back out of this.”

“What? You made her part of a business deal?! Why would you-”

“Because you wouldn’t have given her a chance otherwise, you haven’t been giving anyone a chance since I’ve been setting up potential partners for you and I’m sick of it. You said you were open to an arranged marriage, where’s that attitude now?”

“Because, Father, I have a company to run and that’s-”

“No. I will not allow you to reduce your life to just this company. There are far more enjoyable things in life than a business.”

“But Father-”

“No, Taehyung. One thing you need to learn is balance. If you don’t give anyone or anything a chance you will live a lonely life behind your desk. Even in this cutthroat world of business where you can lose money or be betrayed by anyone at any moment, the most painful thing to suffer is loneliness, and I won’t let you live in this world alone.”

“Dad-”

“You will meet this girl, Taehyung, end of discussion.” 

“Dad! I told you I want nothing to do with your company, how could you let me get dragged into this?!” 

“Y/N-ie, I know you value the life you have without any of my help, but let me help just this once, especially with finding a husband. I’m being offered the deal of a lifetime and I can’t refuse, he just happens to be part of it. I need this for the company, please.”

“But Dad, I don’t even know him. And if he’s the CEO of some rich company he’s probably an asshole, I’m not doing this.” 

“Y/N-ie, trust me, I know his son. He’s a sincere, hard-working man, I promise.”

“Yeah, right. Even if that’s the case, I still don’t know him, let alone love him, Dad. How can you make me marry someone I don’t love?”

“Because you can learn to love him. There are no rules concerning the way two people should fall in love, love doesn’t always need to come first.”

“But Dad-”

“My daughter, I have not asked you for many things in my life, but this is one thing I must ask of you. Please, just meet him, don’t say no without even trying.”

“Dad, I don’t know-”

“Please, Y.N, do it for me. If not for the company or money, please do it for me.”

And here you were, fidgeting with the tips of your nails, tuning in and out of the present world and overthinking every aspect of your life that somehow lead you to this moment. Sitting on a Leather Italia couch in what was described to be Mr. Kim’s study; listening to your father’s incessant, albeit wholesome chatter next to you with your future in-laws across. 

And next to them was their suave, unreadable son sitting in a relaxed manner, flipping his attention between your fathers’ conversation and anything else in the room.

You on the other hand, were utterly high strung due to the fact that your father failed to mention your future fiancé’s identity until 30 minutes before arriving here, having done a quick search in the car to unveil who he exactly was.

And that’s when it hit you. You weren’t marrying just anyone, you were getting married to Kim Taehyung. The infamous CEO of Kim Enterprises—Korea’s largest software development and manufacturing company, rivaling to be one of the largest in the world. He was part of Seoul’s most prestigious circle of businessmen, having made multiple Forbes international lists of Most Successful, Youngest, Richest, and is even one of Korea’s most eligible bachelors, not just Seoul.

If this wasn’t already taking you out, then it was definitely the fact that his photos through a measly Google search did him absolutely, utterly and completely no justice. They simply could never capture the truth of just how handsome Kim Taehyung was in real life. You couldn’t deny it, he wasn’t just good-looking, he was stunning, gorgeous, seemed as though God had created the universe, heaven and hell in 6 days and left the 7th just to create him. 

He was like a work of art, worthy of being placed in the finest of museums and left untouched, unsodden by the ugliness of humanity. It made you feel extremely inferior to him in an instant. It was sickening, he was sickening, intoxicating, and quite frankly, intimidating.

It was his look, his undivided stare when he eventually settled his sight on you. It didn’t matter his dark hair that landed and perfectly curled above his eyes, the way he occasionally licked his plush lips or how his long, tall legs spread out before him, it was his look that made you want to turn tail and run.  

It seemed to reach into your soul, peer straight through whatever façade, walls or defense mechanisms you could spend years building only to have his simple look tear it down in minutes. He was alluring, captivating, left you wanting to cower into whatever hole you could dig yourself into or discover all the secrets he hid behind those enchanting eyes.

Kim Taehyung was many things you couldn’t quite wrap your head around, though you assessed your priorities and decided they didn’t just include him, but mainly the significance of the current meeting taking place right now. 

It wasn’t a mere one-time business deal to discuss a project, it was a meeting that entailed the partnership of both your family companies and would define the next however many years of your life. More specifically, spending it with the exact same man that looked at you without a single readable expression on his face. 

You distracted yourself by trying to observe as many useless things as you could, flitting around the room many times before suddenly glancing at Taehyung’s index finger coming up to rest against his lips.

You zeroed your vision in more. 

Is that a cut on his finger?

“Jae-in, of course! This is just as important to me as it is to you, your son is a remarkable CEO, and I’m sure he’ll make an amazing husband.” 

“Aish, Namhyun, you flatter me too much. My son may be handsome, though your daughter is even more beautiful. I’m very sure she will make a wonderful wife.”

“Yes, Namhyun, your daughter is absolutely gorgeous! Just as gorgeous as her mother. I know she wasn’t able to make it, though may I ask where your wife is tonight?” 

“Ah, unfortunately, she’s out of the country. Though I was hoping my presence would be enough to fill in for her, am I doing a bad job?” 

Laughter erupted from the parents in the room, meanwhile, Taehyung couldn’t help but notice the way you immediately winced at the mention of your mother. Something he definitely wouldn’t miss with the way he found himself examining your every move. 

It was habitual to him, something born out of his roots in business, only for the purpose of calculating and reading people like an open book. 

He knew you’d also become victim to that habit, though oddly enough, he found himself quite interested in observing you. He had already figured you out; you hated business, there was a clear disconnection between yourself and your father’s company and you reeked of a sense of independence that funnily contradicted the antsy way you bounced your leg. 

Your way of speech, however, mannerisms, gestures, your look; it was all professional enough you clearly have some sort of background in business. You seemed like an heiress to Taehyung, which you were, though you oddly had no interest in business?   

All these details piqued his interest, curious of just who you exactly were, but he was mainly intrigued by the mysterious claim his father made upon mentioning you for the first time. 

‘There’s something about her you won’t refuse.’

That had raked Taehyung’s brain consistently for the past hour now, crossing his legs loosely and his arms folded over his chest, contemplating over and over again as he looked at you, what’s so damn special about her? 

‘You’ll notice it when you meet her,’ the words rang in his ears.

That was the driving force behind his calculation, observation, near inability to take his eyes off of you as he learned new things nearly every minute and led him closer to understanding his father.  

He could tell you were an anxious person, though hid it behind a persona of false confidence. You had a tendency to stick close to your father despite observing you don’t rely on him for much of anything, even less your mother. The softness behind your every movement despite being from a business background where you should be harsh, rigid, rough around the edges, and yet you seemed entirely different.

Taehyung then realized how inherently dissimilar you were to many of the other women he met. They were all relatively of the same cut and look. Cold, sharp, cunning. All women of pure business; daughters, granddaughters or straight CEOs of wealthy companies, simply interested in marriage as a deal or an advantage rather than a commitment. 

And there was absolutely nothing wrong with that. Taehyung was a man of business himself, married to his work, his home behind a desk and the company the only thought occupying his mind 24/7.

But with you, you were interesting, unlike the others and it made him curious.

Taehyung also couldn’t help but notice you were...pretty. You weren’t too overly sexy nor too innocent, you were pretty. There was an elegance to your looks, features like your hair and eyes complementing you as a whole, and he couldn’t miss that you felt oddly...warm.

Taehyung found himself beginning to understand his father’s original viewpoint, considering the possibility he could’ve been correct. 

You just seemed different. 

“Ah, that seems to be everything. Exact details about the wedding have already been put in place by us.”

“Yes! We’ve been waiting for our TaeTae to get married for so long. We’ve had plans for months now and we can finally move forward with them! You and Y/N don’t need to worry about anything!” 

“Mom, did you really just call me that in front of my future fiancé?” 

“Oh, let it go, son. It won't be long before she calls you that, too!” 

Taehyung could only playfully roll his eyes at his overly excited mother, you scrunching your nose at the embarrassment.

“That’s incredibly generous of you, Mr. and Mrs. Kim, though my conscience is not one to let such things go. My family should contribute to the wedding in some way. Y/N and I would be happy to do so.”

“Why don’t we discuss that outside? I believe we should give the future couple some time alone, shall we?” 

You and Taehyung exchanged a quick look before standing up and respectively addressing either’s parents, Taehyung shutting the door behind them once they exited and having turned to look at you, an awkward silence piercing the air. 

There it was again, his look. It was irrefutably the one reason you avoided eye contact with him, you felt he would swallow you up if you shared even 5 seconds between each other.

“So...” Taehyung suddenly broke the ice, eyeing you.

“So...” 

“Marriage, huh?” 

“Yeah, marriage. Never done that one before.” If there wasn’t a time you vehemently hated yourself, then it was undoubtedly now. You internally facepalmed at your dumb comment, adding a laugh at the end in embarrassment only to look away. 

“Uh..yeah.” Taehyung laughed awkwardly. “Me neither, if you didn’t already know.” He tucked his hands into his pockets and looked away, you fidgeting by the couches everyone previously occupied. 

A beat of silence passed as you both exchanged looks between objects in the room and each other, either of you pursing your lips or blowing light raspberries to cut the awkwardness. 

“I wanted to ask you something.” 

“Hm?” You turned towards him, lips just a pout as your doe-eyes awaited him. 

Taehyung didn’t miss that at all. 

“Um, your mother. I apologize if this is intrusive of me, though I couldn’t help but notice I’ve never actually met her. May I ask where she is?” 

You let out a dry chuckle before answering, another detail that didn’t slip Taehyung’s attention. “Trust me, Taehyung, one thing you’ll never have to worry about during this entire ordeal is my mother. She should be the last thing on your mind.” You assured him with what he could tell was your fakest smile, distracting him from the realization you’d said his name for the first time.

“Are you sure? I’ll be meeting her at the wedding so-”

“You won’t. I don’t think you will. Even if she does make it, it takes very little to impress her, just be yourself and she’ll love you.” You stated with a sense of finality, as though the topic should be dropped. 

“Be myself? I’m one of the best businessmen in Korea. It’s my job to get people to like me, easy stuff.” He casually gloated. 

“You don’t only have to be a businessman to do that,” you paused and looked at him, “you can just be Kim Taehyung, too.” You spoke nonchalantly, eyes lingering with his for longer than 5 seconds and he, in fact, had not swallowed you yet. 

Taehyung instantly furrowed his eyebrows, taken aback as if your suggestion was something outlandish, absurd, maybe even offending.

Nobody has ever said such a thing to him, not throughout the entirety of his life. 

Taehyung tried his best to recover, searching for another topic of conversation before he was cut off by your rather soft voice, he noticed. 

“Oh, I wanted to give you this.” You stepped towards him, reaching into your purse and retrieving something Taehyung couldn’t quite see. You strided over and extended your hand, Taehyung finding himself even more confused.

“A bandage?” 

“Mhm. For the cut on your finger. You should probably clean it and apply something before putting this on.” You stated nonchalantly once again, offering him a small smile whilst holding out the bandage. 

“Uh...” Taehyung started but couldn’t complete his sentence, lost on how you even observed something as small as his cut and spoke of treating it like it was an actual injury.  

After his struggle to form a sentence, you grew bold enough to gently remove his hand from his pocket and place the bandage in his palm, looking back up at him. You shared a momentary look with his chocolate eyes, instantly scrambling after realizing your hand was still in his.

He has really big hands. 

“We should um...probably go.” You avoided his eyes, stepping aside quickly to pull the door open.

Taehyung’s mind felt displaced, eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the fact that someone had actually left him with nothing to say, an extremely rare occurrence in his book.

He was even more displaced looking at the measly wrapper in his hand, then at the cut on the side of his finger, playing through the last 5 minutes of what just happened.

He scoffed to himself.

‘There’s something about her you won’t refuse.’

It had been 3 weeks since that meeting, not having seen Taehyung once as you wasted your time enjoying single life luxuries before you prepared for one of marriage.

It still felt odd to say such a thing, marriage, because it didn’t even feel like one, or a real one at that. It was forced, fake, a pressured one out of convenience. It felt more like a deal, something Taehyung and yourself had to settle for in order to keep your parents’ minds at ease.

That thought racked your brain all those 3 weeks; Taehyung had to settle for you, he didn’t choose you, just as much as you settled for him and didn’t choose him either. You both had ultimately agreed to the marriage only in an effort to optimize your parents’ happiness, not your own.

You had no clue how he felt, a mystery as much as the Bermuda Triangle, knowing he most certainly had a grand pick of women to choose from and you were most definitely his worst option.

You knew you were suddenly dumped on him, leaving him no choice in the matter as you learned your marriage entailed a beneficial business deal between your fathers’ companies, and Taehyung couldn’t really refuse you with so much on the line.

You had already felt inferior to Taehyung since the moment you met him, though your insecurities seeped further into the crevices of your doubtful mind the more you thought over that sad fact, contemplating a married life with him. In your opinion you were pretty much undesirable to him, Taehyung probably kicking himself knowing he had to unwillingly call you his wife for the rest of his life. 

You just knew you weren’t good enough for him, you would never measure up no matter how hard you’d try and that utterly terrified you. You were confident and independent when it came to yourself, though wedding a near perfect being regarded as one of Seoul’s finest in terms of a CEO and a man? 

Confidence be damned, this dude was intimidating. 

These were the feelings that swarmed your head as you sulked at your over-the-top engagement party, set up in a prestigious buildings’ gorgeous 37th floor riddled with baroque styling and embellishments, classical music gracing some of Seoul’s wealthiest patrons as their flutes clinked and snobby chatter filled the hall. 

It was all extremely high-status, reeking of upper class supremacy and quite frankly, it made you want to throw up.

You distracted yourself by bringing any and all types of alcohol to your lips, trying to focus on anything but your daunting thoughts.

The entire night you hadn’t talked to Taehyung, both of you having been too occupied with the numerous amounts of people meeting and congratulating you. This became a genuine nuisance as you’d mentioned before, this marriage was of convenience, one that brought families and companies together merrily and constituted hundreds of people attending your engagement party you didn’t really know.

Your friends were excited, over-the-moon you bagged a man like Taehyung and chastised you for not having told them about your engagement to him earlier. Your relatives similarly scolded you, pinching your cheeks and praising Taehyung like he was a God while they scrunched their noses at you for concealing him.

How could I tell you when I didn’t even know myself?, you thought.

It was funny they praised your ‘choice’ of a fiancé, positive nobody was saying the same to Taehyung without at least lying. The public only knew of you as your father’s daughter, never having seen you due to your vehement absence from anything remotely related to his company, and much of the business world in general. 

You weren’t part of that world, a world of greed and money-driven lunatics. It just wasn't you. It never suited you, left you with a bad taste in your mouth you constantly grimaced at and thought maybe you were the insane one for not understanding its flavour. As you grew older, however, you came to realize it simply wasn’t the path meant for you, someone who valued the independence and achievement of earning something for yourself, by yourself.

Ever since the inception of that principal, your young teenage self resolved you didn’t want to rely on your father’s wealth, especially not his influence or power to achieve your own place in life.

Your father had worked determinedly hard for years in order to stand as high he does now, warranting your acute admiration for your role model of a father, his now successful architecture business landing him a few buildings part of the Seoul skyline.

And after finally achieving his dream, it suddenly morphed into your own aspiration. His hard work drove you to want your own design part of Seoul’s breathtaking scenery as well, by means of your own effort, your own hard work. You didn’t want your father’s help. It felt wrong, like you were cheating if you used him to gain your place and so you condemned your life to one that separated yours and his. 

So you lived, worked and earned money without any of his influence.

You worked for an average architecture company where you felt comfortable, happy that you were away from the suffocating high-status business of your family. And although your detachment left your identity a mystery to many, your situation on the other hand was an extremely infamous one.

‘The-runaway-heiress’, was your staple trademark. The judgmental comments about your choice of life and the insults it warranted were never-ending, subjected to that criticism all your life.

There was no doubt Taehyung was hearing all of that, people probably warning him to step out of the marriage before it was too late. You weren’t like Taehyung, who was perfect, desirable, someone everyone either wanted or wanted to be. It left you glad and quite frankly, proud to be wedding a man of such caliber and incredibility, though left you wondering why in God’s name he would ever agree to marry someone like you; average, average and well, average.

“That’s your 5th shot, Y/N, slow the fuck down.” Your best friend Hana’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, snatching the shot glass from your grasp. “It wouldn’t be cool if you were trashed at your own party, dummy.” 

Her sudden appearance brought a smile to your face. “I know, I just don’t feel well.” You sighed by the counter of the bar, seated atop a stool as you circled an empty shot glass mindlessly. 

“I get you, there’s like, hundreds of people here and you’re probably hearing a lot of different shit.” Hana appealed to you, having read your emotions like an open book. “Speaking of people, I wanted to ask, what’s up with Taehyung and his stare?”

You stifled a snort, looking at Hana’s incredulous face. “It’s just a habit of his. He stares at everyone.”

“Okay... sure, but I didn’t mean everyone, I meant you.” Hana emphasized, comically pointing.

You furrowed your eyebrows at her, arm leaning against the bar’s counter as you questioned, “What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t really stop staring at you, which is kinda weird. Unless you like that, I don’t judge people’s kinks.” Hana mockingly held her hands up in surrender, gauging a reaction out of you. 

You instantly grimaced, “It’s not a kink, Hana. Nice joke by the way, wanna sign up for SNL with that one?”

“I’m serious! I’ve been catching him just looking at you and I don’t know if it’s weird or hot.” Hana informed as you became more puzzled, her becoming oddly excited, “Awh, maybe he’s concerned with how much you keep drinking! That’s so romantic.” She chimed, looking off into the distance dreamily.

“Shut the fuck up, he wouldn’t do that.” You smacked her arm, snatching your shot glass back from her. “Besides, you’re one of the rare people who knows this marriage is fake, you know he doesn’t care.”

“Jheez, way to kill romance?” Hana rolled her eyes, smacking your arm in rebuttal before continuing. “I’m serious, though. This may be fake but he really does keep looking at you, and I don’t know what it means.” Hana speculated, contorting her lips as if in thought.

“It means nothing, Hana. You’re just seeing things.”

“Then why has he been staring at you depressed by the bar for the last half an hour?”

You nearly spit out your drink, “What?”

“Are you clueless or just dumb? He’s been talking to someone for 30 minutes but most of the time he’s been looking at you, and he still is, how haven’t you noticed?”

You creased your eyebrows in surprise as you slowly lowered your shot glass. You turned away from Hana to scan the small crowds of people mingling, eating, drinking in the hall.

You searched the room, drink still in hand until your eyes caught tall, dark and handsome in his finely pressed suit, casually standing with a drink in his hand by a table speaking to someone. You nearly jumped when your eyes locked with Taehyung’s, every cell in your body caught off guard.

What made your heart specifically race was the way he didn’t even look away from you. He held your gaze, casually conversing with the person in front of him, eyeing you until he finally cracked a small smirk before turning back to his companion.

Your eyebrows practically shot up to the sky.

“See, weird or hot? Am I even allowed to say hot?” Hana blurted as she reveled in your reaction. “And you really thought I was joking. You don’t believe anything I say, I could tell you the world’s ending and you wouldn’t believe me. I could tell you aliens finally invaded the planet and you wouldn’t believe me until the green motherfuckers knocked on your door themselves and-”

“Hana, shut the fuck up.” You cut her off abruptly and made a face at her. “Why did you even come here?”

“Grumpy, aren’t we?” She flashed you a sarcastic look before sighing. “Your dad wanted me to find you. You and Taehyung have to meet someone important, so you should stop drinking like an alcoholic, dumbass.” Hana informed hastily as she grabbed the shot glass from you and downed it herself.

“Your dad’s by the entrance, go before he gets mad!” She shooed you away, pushing you up until you whisper-yelled and smacked at her to let you go. 

You began stepping towards the entrance, smoothing over your dress and this was the moment you realized you may have drank a little too much. You were quick to reprimand yourself, cursing your unprofessional behavior as your inner equilibrium became slightly woozy, senses drowning out a bit, every sound hazed over with a buzz in your veins.

You sucked in a breath to pull yourself together, knowing your dad valued this person enough you and Taehyung had to meet them together. 

Taehyung.

You decided to glance in his direction, lips pursing seeing he wasn’t in his previous spot. You chose to ignore it, walking along until you felt a looming presence behind you, almost having time to acknowledge it before a hand suddenly touched the small of your back. 

“Looking for me?”

You nearly squealed, jumping with a hand ready to punish before calming down at the sight of Taehyung, sighing with relief. “Jheez, could you use my name? I thought you were a stranger.” 

“Well, hello to you too.” Taehyung quipped sarcastically. “And why would a stranger touch your back? Of course it’d be the only man in this room marrying you.” Taehyung narrowly eyed you, scrutinizing your reaction with his hand still pressed to you.

“People do a lot of whatever the hell they want, Taehyung.” You responded turning away from him, heels clacking as you continued to pace towards where your father stood. “W-why’d you do that, anyway?” 

Taehyung furrowed his eyebrows. “Because we’re engaged?”

“It’s not real, though.”

“It’s as real as it gets.” Taehyung finalized, making it a statement to smile at everyone you passed, to which you realized just how many pairs of eyes glued themselves to you. “This may not feel like a real marriage to us, but to the rest of the world it is.” 

He then suddenly leaned himself down to your height and lowered his tone, breath just ghosting your ear. “Y/N, we have to make this seem real, it’s the only way we’ll survive.” Taehyung was the closest he’s ever been to you, and the deep baritone of his voice as he called your name did absolutely nothing but manifest butterflies in your chest. 

Why was his voice so deep?

You shook the thought out of your head, ultimately choosing not to say anything because he was in fact, correct. You grinned widely continuing to mask the truth of your arrangements, leaning into him more as you settled for his hand on your back.

You’d noticed it before, but his hand felt particularly large against you now that he was so close. You glanced at his other hand resting by his side, impressed by how masculine they appeared; long fingers with running veins and a roughness to them, sculpted so well you were sure they deserved to be referred to as art. It tickled your giddy side for a second when they seemed to perfectly contrast your more feminine and smaller hands. 

It was kinda cute. 

You neglected your thoughts once you neared your father, warm-heartedly conversing with a well-dressed man you just about recognized. 

“Ah, there you both are!” Your father cheered, reaching out his arm so he could envelop you in a side-hug, returning Taehyung’s bow and addressment.  

“Dad, I heard you wanted us to meet someone?” You perked up in a superficial tone, at least attempting to act as though everything was fine and dandy in your life; maybe owing it to the alcohol to endure all the falsehoods.

“Yes, Y/N-ie, I wanted you to meet Mr. Won. Chang-in, my lovely daughter and whom I guess you already know, her fiancé and CEO of Kim Enterprises, Kim Taehyung.” Your father proudly presented you both.

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Won, Kim Taehyung.” Taehyung was the first to address the man, extending his hand and bowing as he greeted him. You were almost taken aback by how polite he could be, the way his charming smile graced his features and attractively displayed his perfect teeth. His manner of speech and etiquette were all refined with a high degree of professionalism as well, internally gawking at his duality.  

Wasn’t he acting all entitled with you just now? 

“Nice to meet you as well!” You collected yourself and cheered, a little baffled as to why Taehyung still rested his hand against your back. “I’m hoping my father has only said good things.” You earned a laugh from the group, Mr. Won responding by receiving your hand with a firm shake. 

“Ah, Namhyun, you forgot to mention how beautiful your daughter has grown, and your future son-in-law has me jealous! What a handsome and accomplished young man, the perfect match, the two of them.” Mr. Won praised you both kindly.

You and Taehyung both smiled and thanked him humbly, feeling some heat collect in your cheeks upon Mr. Won’s words. You two? The perfect match? Unless he believes a rock and a Greek statue belong together, then he’s absolutely correct. 

Other than that, you chest swarms with butterflies thinking you’re now referred to as ‘two’. 

Taehyung for some odd reason encircles the curve of your waist suddenly, pulling you closer to him. You last minute sputter at the intimate action before leaning into him, one arm nervously encasing his torso as the other rests against his chest. 

You feel him tense underneath you. 

“Aish, you’re such a flatterer. Y/N-ie, do you remember Mr. Won? My friend from university? You haven’t seen him in a while.” Your father rested a hand on your shoulder, trying to jog your memory. 

“Oh, you mean Mr. Won from SNU?” You suddenly remembered, looking to your father for confirmation. 

“Yes, so you do remember!” 

“Of course I do, how could I forget!” You smiled brightly and returned your gaze to the familiar man. “Mr. Won used to sneak me ice cream when you wouldn’t let me have any, Dad.” You scolded him with a playful jab to his arm, inviting more laughter. “I apologize for not recognizing you right away, it’s been a long time, Mr. Won, forgive me.” You solemnly apologized, Mr. Won giving you a look of understanding. 

“Ah, forget it, Y/N. Don’t worry about it, although since it’s been a long time I hope you remember my son? He should be here somewhere..” Mr. Won trailed as his eyes fished over the grand hall, scanning around. 

“Your son..” You repeated to yourself, realizing there was a familiar connection itching at your mind, he was your age actually-

Wait. 

Oh God, not him. 

Anything but him. 

You felt raw panic seep into the spaces between your ribs, your chest filling with a constricting feeling of anxiety you couldn't shake off. Your heart picked up speed and the alcohol coursing through your veins didn’t help your judgement or memory at all, mind fogged over with the poison we dare call alcohol.  

You felt stupid, so utterly stupid. How could you forget Mr. Won and who his Godforsaken son was? 

You felt an anxiety attack riddling you, shifting your weight on your feet as you tried to bite back your uneven breathing. You just couldn’t see this man, especially in a situation where you were standing next to your husband-to-be. 

Taehyung wasn’t so invested in the conversation before him, mindlessly nodding along before he felt you physically freeze next to him, his glance to the side confirming your pale look, watching as your panicked eyes faltered to the floor and revealed... fear? 

He registered your odd shifting and your failed attempts at plastering a smile, confused if you knew this guy and if you did, why were you freaking out so much?

Were you in love with him or something? 

The thought minutely bugged him until he watched you turn straight up uncomfortable, horrified when Mr. Won called out his son’s name. 

“Kiseok-ah! Come here!” 

You stopped breathing when you heard the name, eyes going wide as you avoided eye contact with anyone in the group, but caught Taehyung’s undivided attention. He grew curious when Kiseok sauntered over to the group, your hand on his chest suddenly squeezing his suit as the mysterious man greeted everyone respectfully.

Taehyung watched as his intrigued eyes locked on you, eyebrows perking up amusedly as his lips curved into a smile Taehyung honestly couldn’t admit to liking. 

“Y/N? Wow, long time no see. It’s been what, a year?” The man Kiseok called out happily, like there was absolutely no problem occurring here but as Taehyung felt your hand clutch onto his suit, lips just about quivering before you forced a smile, he knew there was most certainly a problem. 

“Yeah.” Your voice was weak, small, and Taehyung found himself wondering how a courageous person like you was all of a sudden cowering. 

He’d heard it all night, all the accounts of your other life away from the business world. He wasn’t going to lie, he heard a multitude of opinions concerning you, many of which including either looking down on you or telling Taehyung there’s many other, more powerful women in business he could’ve been marrying instead. 

But Taehyung didn’t care for their opinions, he found you the most powerful woman he could ever marry, and agreed to do so because of that very prospect. Sure, you were estranged from the business scene and practically abandoned any role you’d play in your father’s company in order to pursue your own personal aspirations, but if anything, Taehyung found it highly commendable. 

Taehyung knew it took guts to do what you did, a bold and daring act that no other heir or future heir of a wealthy company could ever think of doing, including himself. 

What he found to appreciate most was your unwillingness to give in, where you had to have heard all the back-handed and snobby comments, yet you still held your head up high, remained rooted and adamant in keeping your current way of life. It instantly signaled to him you were courageous, fearless, unable to be stopped in your tracks.

So when he watched you become smaller and smaller the more you stood in the vicinity of this Kiseok, he knew something was sincerely wrong. 

“Ah yes, it’s been quite some time. Why don’t we step away from you three? You could do some catching up.” Your father urged as he motioned Mr. Won to step away with him. You lightly addressed them only to have your hands neglect Taehyung entirely and start fidgeting, attempting to calm your nerves as the alcohol inebriated your system and magnified your anxiety by tenfold. 

“Ah, yes, Kim Taehyung, CEO of Kim Enterprises. I’ve been meaning to meet you.” Kiseok extended his hand as his voice irked you with every syllable, trying your best to seem like absolutely nothing was wrong. 

Taehyung reached out his hand in response uneagerly, giving a small shake while wondering why you let him go. “That’s news to me, nice to meet you.” Taehyung responded, already feeling an intense aura of discomfort and tension between you both, sensing he was missing out on something that seemed 6 ft deep. 

“Likewise. Y/N..” Kiseok suddenly turned towards you, making you wince. You painted on your smile as you lifted your vision. “Kiseok.” 

“How’ve you been?” 

“Better than ever. You?” 

“Marvelous, just wondering what your life’s looked like since I haven’t been in it.”

“I believe I said better than ever, didn’t I?”

Kiseok scoffed unamused, “So a year, huh? In all that time you suddenly found yourself a fiancé, and Kim Taehyung at that?” Kiseok seemed to be making light-hearted conversation to anyone outside of your group, though you knew deep down the hostility behind his words.

“Yeah, I did. It just happened.” You shrugged, gaining the confidence to counter him. “And you? Plan on putting a ring on any of your girls? Maybe the 5th or 7th one you liked?” You sarcastically questioned, furrowing your brows in mock contemplation. 

“No, you know I’ve always had my eye on one girl when it came to marriage.” Kiseok eyed you knowingly, purposefully, like he was trying to make it obvious.

You snorted and glared at him, “If I remember correctly, your attitude said otherwise.” hatred began boiling under your skin. You felt yourself growing angrier by the second, memories between you two coming back in flashes. You didn’t even realize you were shaking until Taehyung’s hand suddenly entangled with yours, pulling you towards him almost defensively. 

You were surprised, looking at your connected hands and back up at Taehyung. He returned your look, peering down at you as he smiled warmly, affectionately. 

“I’m sorry, Kisook? Was it? My future wife and I have plans for tonight. May you excuse us?” Taehyung didn’t even let Kiseok respond before he was pulling you away, in complete shock at his first lack of manners you’d ever seen. You were only left to watch Taehyung as he lead you along, gaining the timely opportunity to realize he was taller than Kiseok, and in fact significantly taller than you. 

Taehyung was a large man in general, you noticed. His shoulders looked broad from behind, accentuated by the fit of his suit which also emphasized the expanse of his chest, tastefully exposing his sculpted neck. His legs were long, proportioned perfectly in accordance with the rest of his model-like figure, which was ideally fit and contained just the right amount of muscle. 

Dear God, you took your time with this one. 

You didn’t even realize Taehyung had pulled you into a secluded hallway or that you were ogling him when he suddenly stopped, turning in your direction and snapping you out of a near fever dream. 

Yeah, alcohol was not a good idea tonight. 

“Who the fuck was that?” 

“What?”

“That douche, who was that?” Taehyung inquired slightly pissed, in need of the asshole’s identity after watching whatever shitshow he didn’t pay for. 

“Nobody, Taehyung, he shouldn’t concern you.” You looked away from him, pouting in a way that made Taehyung momentarily notice the plush of your lips. 

Again?, was all he could think, first, your mother, and now this guy? Just how many people did you have bad connections with and he needed to ignore? 

Why were there so many intricate pieces to you? 

“Are you kidding me? He concerns me now, your mother I can understand but this guy? Nothing to me. I could step on him.” Taehyung proclaimed confidently and stood up broader, conviction written all over his face.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his remark, resembling the thought you had earlier. “I was just thinking, you’re a lot taller than him.” 

Taehyung couldn’t help but bite back a smile, watching you giggle like a shy high schooler and his ears gladly welcomed the soft sound. “Damn straight I am.” He adjusted the jacket of his suit suavely. It was then he remembered what his other hand was doing; still holding yours. 

His eyes suddenly gleamed with mischief. 

He squeezed your hand a little tighter and yanked you towards him, bodies just centimeters apart as you crashed into him, all up in each other’s personal space.

Your eyes widened in complete surprise. 

 “So you were thinking about me, huh?” Taehyung teased with a stupidly lowered tone, a smug grin decorating his face. 

You ignored the electricity shooting through you, rolling your eyes and playfully sneering at him. “Shut up, it doesn’t take a rocket scientist to see you’re taller.” You forced space between you two and tried snatching your hand from him, but his grip transformed into an iron lock. 

“Says the one who was thinking about me.” 

“Taehyung, shut-” You almost huffed out but as soon as you stepped away, your copious consumption of alcohol suddenly attacked you all at once, vertigo making you lose your balance until Taehyung reached out to steady you. 

“Jheez, did you have to drink tonight?” Taehyung chastised you as you fell into him, head spinning with disorientation and growing flimsier by the second. “You’re probably a lightweight at your size.”

“I am not a lightweight. You don’t even know how much I drank, it was a lot.” You bit back in rebuttal, hooking onto his taut forearms as he supported you. 

“But I did see.” He voiced barely above a whisper, causing you to snap your vision up at him incredulously. “What?” 

“Nothing, it shouldn’t concern you.” Taehyung mocked, though still tried to fix you onto your own footing.  

You didn’t even get to scrutinize him further when you felt another round of dizziness plague you, balance faltering again. Taehyung huffed out and finally flanked you on his side, arm encasing your shoulders as he adjusted you. “Okay Miss I’m-Not-A-Lightweight, you should eat something.” He fit you beside him, beginning to walk you towards the main hall. 

Taehyung in this moment didn’t understand what he was doing, utterly clueless as to what was fueling his actions. He was uncertain why he found himself.. caring? He didn’t even know you, yet he couldn’t help but become a little concerned when he watched you down drinks like it was New Year’s Eve. 

How can all that alcohol fit into one tiny person?

What was he even thinking when he dragged you away from that Kisuk guy? Why did he feel like protecting you all of a sudden? A near sense of possessiveness? He wasn’t even your real husband. 

It started giving Taehyung a headache. This was all strange, a foreign concept he wasn’t familiar with and he didn’t know if it was the result of his considerate personality or only manifested solely because of you.

The same way Taehyung dealt with his inner turmoil, you dealt with yours; you were always so adamant on independence though ironically found yourself leaning on Taehyung.

Oddly, you let him carefully guide you back into the hall with no protests. 

It was the day of the wedding. 

You wish you could recall your emotions throughout the day, certain there would be at least a sliver of a positive one. Though as you remained unmoving, nearly catatonic, unresponsive to your surroundings, you knew there wouldn’t be a single happy memory in the tsunami of sorrow that attacked you today. 

Emotions of grief plagued consistently as you realized the loss of everything you valued most in your life. Your happiness, your freedom, your ability to choose. The stripping of all those bundled into an stifling wad in your chest that left you in a perpetual state of wanting to cry.

The sting in your heart when you realized your mother didn’t bother to come, the excruciating smile you forced onto your features when Taehyung’s mother delicately placed the veil atop your head, the secret tears you shed after adorning your body with a wedding dress you didn’t even choose; it all left you internalizing feelings of utter agony. 

And none of it was your real choice. 

Even the flowers at the wedding weren’t your favourite. 

This day was horrifying. You couldn’t believe you prided yourself on your independence, refusing to give in despite numerous challenges and never taking a word of what anyone said to you. Even when someone begged you to change or come back to your old life, you always chose for yourself. You never allowed someone to push you around, seldom coerced into anything solely based on the wishes of another. 

Yet here you were, standing just before the grand doors of a wedding you never asked for, having easily followed every word of your father’s and sacrificed your deepest principles in order to make him happy, to appease and live up to his expectations that weren’t your own. 

It was utterly frightening, appalling. As if you had lost the one true commendable feature of the intricate character you were, suddenly lost the acclamation of others even if they didn’t know the true nature of your marriage. 

But what disgusted you the most was truly, that you had lost respect for yourself. 

These grim thoughts were the ones that attached themselves to you as you hesitantly hooked your arm with your father’s. You used every ounce of strength to not flee, to remain here, to still walk down that isle with your head held high like you always have despite abandoning every foundation of the character you’d spent years working on.  

You didn’t care that your eyes watered, masking them with the facade of happy tears from the blushing bride. You didn’t care when your father looked incredibly concerned and wondered what was so wrong, you didn’t care how sorrowful you may have appeared to anyone at this ironically glamorous event. 

Though what you did care for was that you couldn’t hold your head up as you walked down the isle, vision fixated on the ground as your tears betrayed you, spilling out at the traumatizing feeling of not being able to stand tall like you always did, something stripping you of your self-reassurance, your strength, your confidence.  

It all spelled the requiem of your soul as you reached the end, dwelling in the impossibility this was happening to you until you felt the touch of Taehyung’s fingertips, guiding you up the stairs. It was then confirmed to you this was in fact real, part of your new reality you had no choice but to accept. 

You suddenly felt eternal gratitude for the veil that now covered your face, hiding the tears you cried at mourning the loss of everything you worked for.

While the priest’s words were read, you didn’t exchange a single look with Taehyung, knowing you’d only want to evaporate into the air, to run away at light speed or have someone in a turn-of-events suddenly take your life, just so you didn't have to face the humility of giving up the life you’d spent blood, sweat and tears building if you looked him in the eye. 

You felt the weight of your unknown future crushing you, pushing you towards the precipice as you gripped Taehyung’s hands harder to ground yourself. 

You were to rely on Taehyung, to share a bond with him you had never spent time cultivating, expected to live a life next to him while never being able to truly understand him, know him, love him. The natural process of falling in love now tainted with the coercion of a pressurized marriage, losing the opportunity to achieve any true sense of love. You’d never experience finding the one anymore, your soulmate, the other end of your red string of fate. 

That realization made your tears spill harder, disconnecting your hand from Taehyung’s to prevent your choked sobs becoming audible, holding your palm against your quivering lips. 

To anyone beyond you and Taehyung, it would look as though you were crying tears of happiness, joyously weeping at your matrimony with the love of your life, though as Taehyung felt the shaking of your hands, your refusal to meet his gaze as you reluctantly walked down the isle, the agonizing pain he could see through the sheer of your veil, he knew you were far from happy. 

He couldn’t help but purse his lips together tightly, knowing you were probably swallowing insurmountable torment down your throat because of this marriage, and tears pricked at his own eyes finding himself able to relate. 

He wasn’t just upset for you or himself, it was the entire situation, quite frankly the fucking world. The fact that the universe planned this as your destiny, his destiny, that the happiness of your parents and two companies came at the expense of both yours and his.

He knew you didn’t hate him, that he wasn’t the reason just as much as you weren’t the reason either, it was the arbitrary nature of the arrangement. That whatever version of true love and happily ever after you and Taehyung had separately dreamed of, it could never come to life. 

Even if the company meant everything to Taehyung, his CEO position more important than whatever position he’d play as some husband, seldom having time to consider love and relationships, he still harboured the same wants and desires any human would. A partner, a companion he truly loved with whom he’d start a family eventually, create a life for them and himself defined by love and comfort.

Though Taehyung only knew now you would both die with your decision-making capabilities robbed of you, bound to each other forcibly without the ardor of real love. 

Taehyung’s every thought was proven correct when the two of you exchanged your vows in near strangled chokes and shaky tones, appearing as happy emotions to the guests of the wedding though only you two knowledgeable of each other’s suffering. 

Your vision finally met Taehyung’s once you heard the rawness in his voice, your miserable emotions doubling when you registered he was just in the same pain as you. It was in that moment the priest’s words became audible and rang loud in both your ears, suddenly grounding you two to earth and reminding you of your reality. 

“You may kiss the bride.”

Both of your eyes grievously locked for a moment of horrified realization; that you were seconds away from going through with this, throwing each other’s lives away for the utilitarian benefit, abandoning any sense of choice in whom you both would spend a lifetime with.

Taehyung swallowed thickly as he removed your veil, feeling his eyes fill with tears again when he laid them upon your utterly devastated, tear-stained face. You were using every nerve in your body to stop yourself from sobbing and caving into the ominous thought of fleeing the ceremony.  

Taehyung’s sight wondered to your lips as they still quivered, nearly swollen red at the intensity in which you bit them, awaiting the kiss you were certain would be filled with frustration and hatred, hatred for the mud you were dragging him through, hatred for pressuring him into suddenly valuing something more than his work and his company, to suddenly become a husband to you. 

Though as he watched the terror flashing through your eyes, tears watering your lash line, he knew he could never feel anything so ardently negative towards you, remembering exactly what he was stripping you of. 

The life you built on your own, defying any and everyone’s expectations of yourself, cursing your heir status to hell, your strength, your independence. Now? Your life was bound to his, bound to one where you were obliged to sacrifice yourself for your father’s company and the upper class cesspool you’d spent so long trying to run away from. 

So as Taehyung began closing the gap between you two, nearing your shaking figure, he resolved he wouldn’t make this hard. He would try, try to accept that his life now entailed you, would try to work towards the balance his father insisted he needed, try to understand that you were now part of his priorities and could never simply ignore you.  

He glided his thumbs against the back of your hands that held his pacifyingly, leaning down until he was just inches from your lips as you squeezed your eyes shut. He unexpectedly spoke quietly, meaningfully, seconds away from sealing the deal of an uncertain future, though, remained certain of this one thing. 

“I’ll take care of you, Y/N, I promise.” And he kissed you in a single breath, no haste, no pressure, only the gentle touch of his lips as they met yours, soft and light. 

Maybe Taehyung didn’t know the exact feelings behind his promise, but he knew the meaning; that no matter the arrangement, the non-existent feelings, the loss of choice, he would at least take care of you like any husband would, a good husband.  

He at least owed you that.  

You were left shocked at the nature of his kiss, Taehyung’s warm lips connecting with yours tenderly. You were convinced the tears you saw in his eyes were enough to assert he hated this, frustrated he had to sell his soul, wishing to only rush the kiss so he could call it a day and ignore you for the rest of his life. 

Though what you never expected was the promise he made, or the way he kissed you with such intimacy you found yourself melting into his touch, reciprocating. He kissed you like you were fragile, locking your lips in a way that solidified his promise, as if out of all the empty vows you spoke today, this was the one, true vow he would keep. His lips felt plush against yours, catching his mouth just a little more before the bittersweet disconnection. 

You and Taehyung exchanged a poignant look, small smiles decorating both your faces with a mutual understanding swimming in your eyes as you gripped each other’s hands. You let his promise permeate the air between you two, finding solace in his words as the applause of everyone attending the ceremony filled the hall.   

Maybe it was the warm way Taehyung always pressed his hand to the small of your back when you spoke to others the whole night, maybe the way he veered you away from excessive amounts of alcohol with a light-hearted scolding considering that last time you drank, or maybe even the way he gently held you during your first dance..

Maybe it was all these considerate, kinds act that made you view Taehyung in a less negative light and rather a favourable one, that maybe he wouldn’t be the asshole CEO you’d first accused him of being.  

You would also be an idiot to not mention how completely and utterly handsome he was, looks carved by the Greeks themselves, quite possibly the hottest, most attractive man you’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on. 

And maybe all that accumulated into your assured opinion that when it came to consummating your marriage with Taehyung, you’d have no qualms or worries whatsoever. You would be absolutely willing, ready to take the night on and maybe even have some fun for yourself with whom you could tell was a really, really nice guy.

Though as Taehyung walked calmly in front of you towards your hotel suite, reaching into his suit pocket for the card key he’d retrieved at the front desk to swipe against the lock, your chest clogged with a crushing feeling of anxiety you couldn’t subdue. 

These weren’t the same nerves of maybe being not pretty enough, body insecurities or fear of what to expect from Taehyung, no, these nerves came from the utter panic of having to experience sex with another man.

Especially since your last partner. 

It always started with your permission, that wasn’t the issue, Though what left you afraid, so utterly frightened with the thought of spending a night with a man like this came from the treatment you received from that partner. 

Safe to say, you weren’t treated kindly. Far from that, actually, you were treated as though you had no needs or were a means of simple use. Your last partner was the opposite of giving, he was selfish, self-absorbed and only concerned himself with his own pleasure, going on and on only until he was satisfied and neglected you in every sense of the word, sometimes even refusing to listen to you if you protested. 

To make matters worse, he wasn’t faithful. 

You knew he slept around, a lot, it was the number one reason you never agreed to actually date him, never make things official. 

But the reason you would end up sleeping with him was because of the most perfectly imperfect concept among the human race; love. You believed every time with him was a new chance to make that love real, that it was the genuine manifestation of your feelings for one another, thinking maybe he wasn’t the asshole he always portrayed himself as and could man up enough to love you unconditionally. 

And he completely reeled you in, made you fall in love too quickly and made you believe he was capable of love. This grew exponentially when you were often described as ‘the different one’, the one he always came back to, that you were special. You clung onto those words as much as you could, convinced each time you were in fact the one for him, that maybe one day, he’d wake up and abandon his fuckboy lifestyle and mature.

But everyday that went by, every promise that was never fulfilled, every word that wasn’t met with an action, and especially after every hook up that resulted in nothing new, you began to understand you were everyone’s favourite role in a Shakespearean play. 

The fool. 

You were a joke to believe anything he said, the most naive person on earth to think you were any different from the others, when every night simply ended in rough fucks, virtually no orgasm and miniscule aftercare.

It left you essentially scarred, traumatized that every man in the world was built like this. It didn’t help that whenever you look back, many of your ex partners were of the same cut, the same trope of assholes that don’t seem as bad but end up being exactly so. 

It was what made you swallow thickly as Taehyung opened the door to the suite, holding it open as he moved aside to let you enter first. You walked forward and unintentionally brushed against him, realizing how much smaller you were in comparison to him all over again. 

He towered over you, and it made you more nervous. 

You looked up at him momentarily and quietly thanked him as you stepped inside, setting your sights on the large, king sized bed situated on one side of the room, a lounging area with couches to the other side which lead to a bathroom. Seoul’s breathtaking skyline was visible in the dark of the night through wall-to-ceiling windows opposite to you, covered by flowy, sheer curtains. 

You took a deep breath, trying to remind yourself Taehyung was not the same. Not all men are the same, you can’t inflict the mistakes and wrongdoings of one man onto another, categorize them into one kind. You wanted to think this way, and you knew it was the humane way to think. 

But as the memories of those heart-aching nights filled your head, the empty words, the lack of care or concern, the neglect, the feelings of pure abandonment and use only caused your heart to beat profusely in your chest, clutching onto the neckline of your dress to breathe. 

What if Taehyung really was no different?

It then suddenly hit you you didn’t know him. All you knew of Taehyung was that he was a fiercely successful business man, sitting atop Seoul’s most prestigious with Godly looks and a stare that could kill a man. You remembered your initial feelings about him; his stare in fact intimidated you, quite frankly all of him intimidated you, he was the epitome of perfection and you were far from that very notion. It left you thinking you didn’t measure up, and that he could view you in a dissimilar light than you viewed him; an unfavorable one. 

He could simply not want you, but is forced to.  

You’d observed his kind behavior and actions over the odd two days you met him, though that was exactly the inculpatory factor; you had only met him twice. You didn’t know what he would be like alone, when it was just the two of you, when there weren’t eyes scrutinizing him and cameras snapping shots of his every move. 

You didn’t know how he would be like in the bedroom, either. 

Your mind raced as you conflicted with yourself, trying to understand that Taehyung could be different, though apprehensive with the miniscule knowledge you actually had of him. 

You discerned after that last asshole of a partner you needed the love and care of a real partner, someone who would tend to your needs, adore you in the midst of their actions, be a giver and not just a receiver.  

And you didn’t know if Taehyung would be that partner. 

“Y/N...” Taehyung called out to you rather softly as he removed his suit jacket, the rustling of the cloth signaling he had indeed done so. His footsteps were hard to miss, the soles of his shoes sounding against the hardwood floor as he neared your lonesome figure standing in the middle of the room. 

Your breathing quickened with nearly every step he took, attempting to resolve the civil war you were battling within. You were trying to convince yourself Taehyung would be a nice man, a nice husband; though couldn’t help but feel deflated by the fact it was all mainly coerced out of him.

Your thoughts overwhelmed you as Taehyung finally stood behind you, mere inches from your back as he watched you from behind, unbeknownst of any feelings or thoughts currently riddling you.

He hesitated, though gently placed his hand against your bare arm, the sudden warmth of his hand against your skin causing you to flinch. He peered down at your smaller self squarely focusing in front of you, anticipating your response. He grew slightly soft when you tentatively looked over your shoulders, clearly teary-eyed. 

Taehyung couldn’t miss how scared you seemed, and he his heart inexplicably stung at the thought you were afraid of him. 

“We don’t have to do this.” Taehyung’s voice was low and resembled warm honey, reverberating in a way that made you ease up. 

You worked towards a stable voice. “W-we don’t?” 

“No, we don’t” His voice held no disappointment, only the intention of seemingly wanting to assure you, firm and oddly comforting. 

“I’m sorry, Taehyung. I’m really sorry.” It was hard to keep your tone leveled, clutching your hand over your mouth as you swallowed your emotions. 

“Don’t be sorry, there’s nothing for you to apologize for.” 

You strangely felt the desire to hold his hand that rested against you, though you ignored the urge and simply stepped out of his touch, clutching your chest tightly in an effort to cower away from him. But it was here you suddenly remembered that he kissed you, and the way he did so. 

It made your cheeks fill with a rosy blush. 

“Do you mean that?” You’d finally turned to meet his eyes, his face only visible by the moonlight illuminating the room. He seemed to have retracted his hand and stood with both tucked in his pockets, relaxed. 

This became the first time you noticed just how ravishing he looked tonight. 

His dark hair was slicked back loosely and left enough pieces to fall as a comma, graciously exposing his forehead, his Tom Ford suit attractively hugged his model-like body, watch and accessories accentuating his expensive look. 

His features were casted over by soft lighting, somehow adding to his beauty as the glow made him appear... less intimidating, dare you say warm or inviting. 

His expression was funnily enough, one that you could actually read. He held no contempt, no impatience or anger, only a hint of consideration as his calm eyes looked at you. His face may have been predominantly blank, void of a smile, though certainty held a form of reassurance.  

“Of course I do, why would I do anything with an unwilling person?”

You scoffed lightly, “Not a lot of people would say that.” Your eyes faltered from Taehyung’s and clutched yourself tighter, expression completely telling of trauma.

Taehyung instantly picked up on it, eyebrows slightly furrowing at your words though softening once registering their weight. He felt an overwhelming sense of apology take him, thinking of his next sentence before his mind oddly flashed back to the night of the engagement party.

“Y/N, did Kiseok..?” Taehyung trailed hesitantly. 

You winced at his line of thinking, “No, no...not what you’re thinking,” you immediately denied. “Just, shitty experiences.”

“Shitty, as in...?”

“As in only seeking self-satisfaction, neglect, lies, infidelity. Can we go to sleep?” You deflected with a heavy sigh and a hand at your temple, the day’s events catching up to you.

Taehyung nodded in agreement, “Yeah, sleep. We both need that.” His eyes then landed on the bed, registering even if it were large enough you two could sleep apart, he still opted for caution. 

“Um.. you can take the bed, by the way. I’ll sleep on the couch-”

“No, don’t do that.” You replied quickly. “I can’t sleep on a king-sized bed all by myself, it’s huge.” You side-eyed the massive mattress and laughed a little, lightening the heavy aura casted over the room. 

“Are you sure? I don’t want you to be uncomf-”

“Don’t worry, Taehyung. You don’t make me feel uncomfortable.” You smiled at him lightly and received a small one from him, both your eyes mirroring the same sense of understanding you exchanged at the altar. 

“I’ll let you wash up first, your overnight bag should be in the bathroom closet.” Taehyung informed, pointing towards the direction of your things. 

“Thank you.” You voiced with an amount of warmth that made Taehyung want to genuinely smile, though crushed the weird urge and nodded agreeably instead.

You began walking away from him until a nuisance suddenly occurred to you, cursing yourself as you came to a full stop. “Um, Taehyung.. I forgot but could you..?” You angled your back towards him to call out to the ribbons tying the back of your dress, knowing you would’ve taken 20 years just to untie your bodice yourself. 

The fact that you weren’t looking directly at Taehyung made him feel relieved, glad he wouldn’t embarrass himself with the his eyes slightly widened. He was quick to reprimand himself, it’s just a woman’s dress, why the hell are you shocked? 

Taehyung swallowed dryly before replying, “Uh, yeah I’ll--I’ll do that.” He walked towards you sparingly and positioned himself behind you.

He’d noticed it before, but you were relatively small compared to him in size and it continued to poke at his brain, maybe even momentarily think it was cute. 

Cute? When have I ever found a girl cute?

Taehyung exhaled before his hands carefully made for the silk ribbons, his tentative fingers fiddling with the ties until he eventually began loosening each one. He started unlooping your bodice, breathing out considerably when each loop began exposing your back inch by inch.  

Taehyung’s sweet, hot breath fanned your skin, tensing each time as your every nerve went haywire feeling just how close he was. His slender fingers brushed against your bare skin here and there, making heat collect in your face.

You grew even hotter when your kiss with him suddenly crept back into your mind, unknowing of the reason why excitement and electricity shot throughout your body because of it. The way his soft, full lips met yours, mouthed at you tastefully repeated in your head, making you extremely nervous at how much a measly kiss from him was occupying your mind; it was just a kiss. 

Taehyung found himself tensing by the intimacy of the moment, remembering the way he so boldly kissed you. He found that he liked the plush of your lips, the way he had to bend down to your smaller height to lock lips; and it made him feel strange. 

How the hell was he taking interest in something other than his work? No, this isn’t interest, Taehyung thought, and would spend however long denying it. 

He’d finished the task throughout all his thinking, unrealizing of how proximal he was to you. He oddly hated that the moment was over, coming back down to Earth.

“There you go.” He cleared his voice and stepped away from you. 

You held your bodice up against your chest, realizing Taehyung had a full-access view of your back and you grew 10x hotter. You gulped at the thought before hastily turning around to thank him, quickly disappearing into the bathroom for a moment of reprieve. 

You shut the door and instantly breathed out a breath you didn’t remember holding, looking at your hot mess of a face in the mirror trying to cool down, reliving the last 10 minutes of what just happened. 

You took a deep breath. 

Maybe Taehyung is different after all. 

prev. ↞ || ↠ next  || masterlist

[jiminrings]

i just reread ll (after seeing that yoongi pic on twt..... loml) AND UGH IM SO MAD AT THAT FIGHT WHY DID HE SAY THAT AND OH MY GOD WHERE IS OC SLEEPING OMG DID SHE STAY THE NIGHT AT TAEHYUNGS (not like that ..... nasties 😑) WHATS GOING ON. WHAT IS JUNGKOOK GONNA DO WHEN YOONGI OR SEOKJIN FIND HIM WHAT IF YOONGI KILLS HIM OR SMTH

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

you leave jungkook alone in your dorm after a fight �� but at the same time, he gets left alone with yoongi and jin, who still aren't sure what to think of him especially now

aka part two of the ll couple's first fight

"i think i'm gonna crash."

seokjin yawns and says out loud without the knowledge that he's speaking out loud, his hands fumbling for the dorm keys amongst the numerous keychains he has a knack for collecting

"you drank one cup of coffee, jin," yoongi snorts because as far as he recalls two hours ago, jin even made him drink his remaining coffee because he couldn't take any more

yeah well sCREW jin for trying to stay awake the whole day alright!!!! he made a roadtrip out of scouring each individual part he wanted to add to his fancy PC setup he's been saving a pretty penny for

he doesn't say it at all but yoongi carries immense happiness in tagging along with errands even if it serves him no purpose <3 sometimes he just likes being a keychain to his best friends and he's happy!!

"yeah, hot coffee — the worst," jin elaborates his dislike for hot coffee even if both you and yoongi heard it a hundred times before

he's noisily trying to find the right key and he's surprised you haven't woken up and just oPENED the door for them, but he's cluelessly and thoroughly entertaining yoongi aka the guy who hAS his own key yet refuses to use just so that he could see his friend suffering some more

at this point, your neighbors probably think you’re getting robbed but thankfully jin finally manages to put in the right key, a satisfactory sigh leaving him when it finally clicks and turns the right way

the dorm is dark and noT dim like what they’re used to, probably something to be blamed to the hellfire of rain that’s going on outside

jin’s carelessly removing his shoes by his own feet, only stopping when yoongi harshly pinches him on the side before he does it to himselF on the inside of his arm

“ow! what was-“

he soothes the sore spot on his side because yoongi can reallyyyyyy put his two fingers close without pinching and therefore make it hurt even more, eyes all around the place before it stops on a familiar figure

a familiar figure, sure. welcome? not exactly.

"huh. you're still here? are you staying the night?"

seokjin asks out loud to jungkook who’s standing by himself beside the couch with his hands bunched, worried eyes fixed on them

"where's y/n?"

yoongi asks and it’s made evident how the both of them have different intentions to acquire for, but they all boil down to you nonetheless

jungkook’s throat dries because it hasn’t even been an hour that he’s left alone in yoor dorm, not expecting it either that your two friends would come home this quick

"that's the thing,” he mumbles and yoongi picks it up first, slithering around jin to confirm if he’s really hearing jungkook

what does he mEAN that’s the thing???

"y/n left."

jungkook’s with the two of them now but oddly enough, he doesn’t feel cornered even if the two of them are positioned as if they’re trapping him

he feels more alone than he is cornered, fresh tears stinging at the back of his eyes that he doesn’t want to show yoongi nor jin

"what did you just say?" yoongi asks more in confusion than in disbelief, narrowing his eyes at your boyfriend

"why would she leave at this hour and at this weather? not to mention, leave you alone with us."

jin raises a valid point to put into everyone’s head how bizarre the situation is and not to spook jungkook out, but it sounds like the latter to him which is why he snorts at the startled look

"calm down, kid. we're not gonna rough you up if that's what you're thinking," he reminds him because they’re not tHAT unhinged when it comes to you, walking to the refrigerator to down the nearest water bottle, ".... not unless??"

he still carries a playful edge to him because as much as he’s worried about you, atleast one of the three of them in this room should be far from having a breakdown to level the others

yoongi’s not done with his questioning streak because he presses further, sitting at the couch in your exact seat that makes jungkook gulp

god it’s now just hitting him that you left

"why did she leave?"

"w-we fought."

there’s slight hesitance in his tone because he’s not exactly surE if he should be telling that he fought with you to your friends, but he sets aside the possible consequences because after all, it’s you that they’re conversing about

yoongi nods to himself, having a hunch that the both of you must’ve fought and when he looks up at him, he only belatedly realizes that your boyfriend’s now blonde

"what did you do?"

he goes straight for it, startling jungkook

he’s not necessarily offended that yoongi asked him what he did because if you ask him, this is really aLL his fault

"i-i'll get to that but uh shouldn't we look for y/n first?"

...

..... okay that was understandable

yoongi knows where he’s coming from, nodding to acknowledge him

"not the first time this happened," he admits quietly and that leaves jungkook speechless, watching him intently which is why it made sense that yoongi’s not out of his mind panicking just like he is, "y/n left the dorm when she and seokjin fought."

yoongi says it even quieter and jungkook gets why, because as low as his mumble went, seokjin still managed to hear it

it must’ve been a sore spot that jin doesn’t want to tell him all about, atleast right now, because he looks down to his feet as if he’s been burnt

"it was a serious fight, but it was long ago,” he mumbles under his breath and the reminder of their fight which he’s tried to bury in the back of his head throws him off his feet slightly, “she doesn't really leave when it's just a petty fight or something."

yoongi somberly smiles at jin as some sort of apology for bringing it up, not wanting to put salt on the wounds as he just redirects his attention to jungkook

"i'm asking you for the last time, jungkook — what did you do?"

there’s no direct pressure behind his words but the three of them know that it would drastically help if he just said so

there’s no moral compass that he tries to steer because he himself wants to tell yoongi and jin, even if it means having to put the little respect and love they have for him on the line

jungkook doesn’t sugarcoat and retells all the way from what happened with the hoseok situation until he finishes with what happened merely an hour ago, almost scared to look up at the both of them

jin humorlessly chuckles and shakes his head to himself, still perched against the kitchen counter

"low fucking blow, kid."

surprisingly, yoongi became the lenient one

jungkook’s head aches because the two of them switched attitudes in a matter of minutes!!!! jin is the one that sounds like he hates being in the same room as him and yoongi is the one that tolerates hin generally

he could oNLY assume that the retelling of the events must’ve hit jin one way or another, somehow connected to what the two of you fought about long ago

yoongi takes the liberty to speak after jin’s remark, nudging jungkook by the knee to sit beside him

"y/n's hurt, of course, because as much as she had flings and casual fucks and whatnot," he trails around but doesn’t look to jungkook who’s wide-eyed thy he’s even letting him sit beside him, “you're her first boyfriend."

...

....

...... what

“i am?”

jungkook asks in confusion and the regret creeps up to him not a second later, the ringing in his ears blocking out the rain and even jin’s announcement that he’ll call you

he nods and kook knows that he’s not only saying this to pull at his tail, simply because he’s aware that yoongi doesn’t joke around with him

with jin entering his room to call you, that leaves him alone with yoongi and it barely registers in his head that this is the first time it’s only the two of them after that time when he threatened to give him a knuckle sandwich and the sort

"was starting to entertain and like the idea of you in y/n's life — our lives, y'know?"

yoongi initiates conversation and kook gets startled even more, tripping over his words because he can’t grasp at the situation fully

"i'm sorry, yoongi. i-i really am."

"hate to say this but," he clicks the roof of his mouth with his tongue, fiddling with his bracelets, "i know you are."

???

jungkook’s confusion at your friend’s words is what distracts him from his remorse, not believing his ears

yoongi believes him??? he knOws that he actually feels sorry for having done what he did??

"y/n doesn't like being accused, i think no one really does," he starts off carefully, “it's not my story to tell but it's for you to understand that y/n, y'know...."

jungkook swallows the lump on his throat for whatever yoongi’s gonna say next, a furrow in his brow as he chooses his words

“she doesn't come from a past wherein assurance is at face value,” he clears his throat, "that's all i can tell you."

jungkook nods and he tries to contain his thoughts because he doesn’t want to assume. he’s only gonna take what you give and he’ll willingly wait for that time you tell him all about his past

he does have a clue about your family because he asked that one time if he’d be meeting your parents because you’re a senior and you’re graduating soon, but you only shaked your head no and said “yoongs and jin are enough” for your ceremony

yoongi feels sorry, but he’s not sure for who :(

all he knows is that his heart aches, even if it’s for the boy in front of him that he swore he’d hate, but is now unconsciously worming his way into his heart

he’s no stranger to what jungkook feels because he felt the same type of territoriality and the insecurity that came along with it — the one he used to have over you, in that platonic soulmate sense he didn’t realize at the time

"it's not my place to tell you either, but sooner or later, insecurity will consume you, jungkook."

the guy in question nods eagerly because yoongi manages to address the struggle he has in his mind, acknowledging the issue at-hand fully

"y/n can't baby you forever,” yoongi sighs, “but you can't be ditched whenever she feels like it either."

:O

did...

did yoongi just take his side.....

jungkook kNOWS in the back of his head that yoongi’s neutral, but it all just registers in his head that for the first time, yoongi’s on his side, even in a sense

"talk it out. just sleep in her room for the meantime. fix it in the morning,” he starts to gather himself to stand, pausing to look at jungkook in the eye, "i'd hate to see my soulmate hurting."

the thing is, jungkook knows that yoongi’s your soulmate :-)

you told him that once and as much as you explained that it was only platonic, jungkook quickly understood it, much to your surprise

he knows he doesn’t know the entirety of you, but he knows that when he looks at yoongi, he’s looking at you too :)

yoongi gives him the ghost of a smile, making jungkook blink twice

"sooner or later, the two of us need to talk."

jungkook’s contented with that, smiling back at him

"good night, yoongi."

"good night, jungkook."

( ♡ )

ok.,.,.

“don’t come home, it’s pouring. or go back to your dorm, whatever. i don’t care.”

okay you dO in fact care!!!

it’s been more or less two hours since you left the dorm and you know this because jungkook’s been texting you without fail, only stopping twenty minutes ago that makes you look at the time

it’s 11 o’clock :O

either he’s asleep like he usually would be at this time, or he walked home

in fact, you don’t even know if jungkook is still at your dorm

your phone rings all of a sudden that it makes you flinch, scrambling to see who it was and you don’t know if it’s disappointment or relief coating you when you saw that it was jin

"and where is my favorite girl at this time of the night?"

you could only chuckle as you share a glance with the person whose dorm you crashed in, sending an eager greeting with his mouth full

"i'm at taehyung's. we're eating brownies right now."

when you knocked on tae’s door just two hours ago, the only thing he greeted you with was with a towel!!

he didn’t ask why you’re practically soaked in front of his doorstep because for whatever it is, it must probably be in good reason

truth be told, you didn’t even knOw where you were supposed to go but then tae popped into your head as the only sane person you know that would let you in at this time of the night without prior notice

it was a simple “jungkook and i fought.” to which he only nodded to, turned on the tv for you, and started baking brownies

"mhmm. what kind?"

you chew on the chocolate fudge, slightly chuckling at what jin’s insinuating

"the kind that doesn't leave you disoriented."

he hums at that and you could picture him swiveling on his gaming chair he bought just a week ago, his phone tucked to his ear closely

"the same kind that makes you able enough to come home tonight?"

"yeah,” you breathlessly agree, fiddling with the matching bracelet you have with jungkook, “same kind."

you could only assume now that they've seen jungkook and he's still saying there, all alone but with them

your heart warms at the thought that indirectly, jin’s making you come home to reunite you with jungkook, knowing that there’s an impending conversation sooner or later

"want me to pick you up? you'll get a cold."

"i'll borrow tae's umbrella. i'll come home when we finish the brownies."

the both of you know that it’s code for you just wanting a little more time before you come back, and also because you really wanna dO finish the brownies that tae warmly made for yoy

"mkay," jin smiled at your response, "i'll lock the door but just send me a text and i'll open it for you."

"won't you be sleeping?"

"i'll stay up. i'm not sleepy."

jin replies just as quick, a complete 180 to what he said when he initially came home that he wanted to crash because of the hot coffee he drank

you wordlessly thank him and he acknowledges it, happy to atleast know that you heeded his concern for you to come home tonight

"get home safe. love you."

it’s not only minutes later than you thank taehyung immensely and promise to take him to the aquarium as your thanks, finding yourself in your dorm that seokjin ushers you into with a peck on your head

you rush to your room and you’re greeted with the airconditioning turned on, seeing a lump beneath your comforter that you automatically know it’s jungkook sleeping

you're still damp from the rain but you change quickly to the first set of clothes you can grab from your drawers, not wasting a second longer

you sneak into your own bed, the same one that’s carrying jungkook

his sleep hasn’t even been the deepest and the moment he feels a shuffle beside him, he’s woken up immediately

“i’m here.”

jungkook realizes it’s you with the way your voice is soft and the way you hold his arm when you climb into the covers, wordlessly embracing him from behind

"i'm sorry. it's all my fault,” he says sincerely as he turns his body so he could face you, caging you in with his arm

"i'm sorry i stormed out on you."

he feels you nuzzle to the crook of his neck and it calms him down, the familiar scent of you enough to make his eyes close without fear

it only hits you now that this is the first time the two of you cuddle, much less share a bed

"love you."

it’s barely audible but it leaves you nonetheless, not expecting a reply in return but you get one anyways from a sleepy yet overwhelmingly-content jungkook

"i love you the most."

.

.

.

as always, lmk what you think!! i love answering asks :D what do you want to see from the lunchbox lovers next? send them here <3

[draco-and-tom]

Whose name?- George Weasley

WARNINGS: Unprotected sex, Dom!George, slight dry humping, Public sex, Unprotected sex, teasing, jealousy, slight hickey kink, possessive kink

A/N: barely edited on 3/29/21 for accuracy.

You were so excited for the summer this year. Normally you hate going home, but this year you get to spend it with your boyfriend. Your parents aren't normally nice to you, so when George told you that you could stay all summer you were ecstatic. All five of you walked inside the cozy home and set your trunks down. “I know it’s not much and you're going to have to sleep with me an-” you walk over to George quickly and hug him tightly “thank you,” you say into his chest. When you pull away you see a big smile on his face and can't help but smile back. He was the sweetest person you’ve ever known. “Come on then,” he said, grabbing your hand to hold in one of his, the other holding both of you’s trunks. You wave to the rest of the group as you walk up the stairs to Fred and George’s room. As room as the door opens you look at him, not able to help the huge smile that comes across your face. “I love it here,” you say “which bed is yours?”. George points to a bed and smiles. You walk over to your boyfriend’s bed and lay down, “Everything is so cozy”. George chuckled “glad you like it, love,” he said, kissing your cheek. “I don't know why you thought I wouldn't like sleeping with yall. I mean come on….. I get to snuggle with George Weasley” you laugh and he lays down with you. “You would like that huh?” he asked, wrapping you in his arms, you humming in response. “Love you” you mumbled, “love you too darling”.

You wake up to an owl squawking at your window. George could sleep through almost anything, not that he had a choice with how many siblings he has.  You get up and walk over to the window opening it for the bird. You recognized the owl, it was Oliver's. You take the letter from the bird’s beak and read who it’s for.                                 To: Fred & George. From: Oliver Wood You walk over to where your boyfriend is sleeping and smile at how peaceful he looked. You pepper George’s face with kisses, not being able to help yourself. George starts to wiggle in his sleep before he smirks with his eyes closed. You noticed, but keep on kissing him. “Nice way to wake up might I say” George opens his eyes to look at you when you stop kissing him. You rolled your eyes “Sorry” you said, trying not to blush, but feeling your cheeks burn. He chuckled “no please don't be sorry. It’s adorable honestly.” He leaned in and gave you a soft meaning full kiss before pulling away. “What’s that?” he said pointing to the letter. “Oliver wrote to you and Fred” George closed his eyes and put his hands over his face mumbling something like “goddammit Fred, fucking ass-” you pulled his hands away and could tell he was frustrated “What’s wrong?”. George looked up at you and rolled his eyes “Fred invited Oliver to play quidditch. I told him not to invite him” he groaned “It’s hard not to punch him in the face when he’s looking at you like he would take you up against the wall”. You blushed “George...he doesn’t like me like that. And even if he did I love you and only you. I'm all yours.” George nods. “Promise?” he asked “I promise”. George leaned up and kissed you softly and kissed you passionately. You kissed back, loving the feeling of his lips touching yours. You could always tell how much he cared when he kissed you. George flipped you over to where he was on top and started to kiss down your neck. You began to whimper as he sucked a mark on your skin until his hands started to tickle your sides. “AH GEORGE STOP THAT YOU T-TWAT” you screamed through your laughter. George stopped and you both laughed. “Thanks, George I was kinda getting into that before you ruined it!” he smiled “I know. I mean you should’ve seen it. You were whimpering and I could see your lip quivering, I even heard my name a couple of times,” he said, wiggling his eyebrows and you. You blushed and rolled your eyes. You look over to see Fred in the doorway with an almost scared look on his face. “Bloody hell you two, get a room”

When Oliver arrives

You and George are cuddling on the couch and watching some muggle movie when Oliver opens the door he walks in and looks you up and down. “Hello there Y/N,” he said “Hey” you responded before looking at your boyfriend to find he was already looking at you and tightening his grip on your body. “Hey y/n” Oliver tried to get your attention. You gave George a reassuring peck on the lips before looking at Oliver “Yeah?” you asked. “What's that bruise on your neck?” he asked, leaning closer to get a better look at it. “Well if you must know wood, it’s a hickey” Oliver backed up to his original spot and made a surprised face “hmm… kinda weird looking don't you think. It’s got a weird blob shape to it eh’? “. You rolled your eyes, starting to see what your boyfriend was talking about. You could feel George stiffen at his words. He tended to be confident in the moment, but self-conscious afterward. “Actually I  like them,” you say looking at Oliver “you know sometimes I wish he would do it more often to be honest with you”. Oliver looked at you like he didn’t know what to say, so you turned your attention to someone more important, your boyfriend. George leaned over to whisper in your ear “Is that true love? Cause if so… I'm sure I can make some arrangements”. George pulled back to watch your reaction. You felt your cheeks get hot and look at your hands in your lap, biting your lip “Mhm” you mumble.  George chuckles and kisses your cheek and you hear Oliver walk out of the room. “You know…” he whispered “I can't tell if seeing you flustered makes me want to fuck you into my mattress or cuddle with you, but I'm debating doing both,” he said, causing you to whimper. George kissed you on the cheeks and got up from his spot on the couch. “Well, I should go get the others so that we can plan out the whole quidditch thing,” he said. Once everyone was in the living room George and Fred spoke up “what are the teams?”. Ginny smiled “Well, I was thinking we could change our plans” she smirked. “Mom and Dad left a little while ago, so I thought we should play truth or dare”. Ron rolled his eyes “Really ginny, we aren't little kids anymore”. Ginny scoffed “Actually Ronald, you didn’t let me finish” you fought to keep in your laugh. Ron really does have a problem with cutting people off. “I was going to tell you that I have some  veritaserum,” she said grabbing a glass bottle out of her pocket, “thought we’d make the steaks higher. If you refuse a dare, or pick truth, then you have to take some” she smirked. “Oh, I'm so in,” you and George said at the same time.  George and you looked at each other and started laughing, making Oliver roll his eyes. The six of you all began to walk outside to the fire that Fred made for the game, before sitting in a circle beside it, Ginny set the bottle in the middle. “y/n” she asked “truth or dare”. You rolled your eyes and chuckled “truth”. She nodded her head and people around the circle laughed “okay. Take a drop” she gestured to the potion. You reach for the veritaserum and put a drop on your tongue. “Okay y/n” she giggles “Have you and George had sex, and if you have how good was he”. You can't stop the words from coming out of your mouth and immediately respond. “Oh yeah, a few times actually.” people around the circle laughed. “And for the second question… god yes. Don't even get me started on how good he feels,” you said “okay y/n that’s enough” but you continued “I mean god, I would be down to let him fuck me right now if you all weren't here.” Everyone in the circle starts to laugh except for Oliver and George. Oliver looked pissed and George was well smirking proudly.  “I mean he knows a lot more than he���ll tell you I ca-” Ginny cuts you off, giggling “Okay y/n, we get it,” she said, trying to catch her breath “it’s another turn,” she said and turned to George. “Truth or dare?” she asked. “Do you even know me?!” he asked, pretending to be offended. Ginny rolled her eyes “I dare you to go have 40 minutes in heaven with y/n”. George smirked and grabbed your hand, pulling you with him back into the burrow. Once you were inside George kissed you “Did the potion wear off yet?”. You nodded your head, “I think so.”. He hums “Do you touch yourself thinking about me?” he asked. You looked down at the ground and blushed. “Yep. It’s worn off,” he said and pulled you over to the couch. He lightly pushed you onto the couch and climbed on top of you. George kissed you and you wrapped your legs around his waist, feeling how hard he was. He took his lips off of yours and started trailing them down your neck, leaving marks along the way. “You’re already s-so hard” you whimpered “How could I not be? A few minutes ago you were bragging about how good I make you feel. As soon as you started talking I knew that I was going to have to take care of you later. Ginny’s a good wingman” he said, moving back up to your jawline. You whimpered at his words and the feel of his lips on your skin. “George I want you so bad. Please make me feel good” you said through your whimpers, causing his hips to buck against yours on accident. You moaned loud at the friction you’ve been needing. George smirks at your reaction, this time rolling his hips against yours on purpose. You moan louder “George! Please”. George moves his mouth up to your ear “Did you want something darling?” he asked. “Please fuck me George. I need you, all yours” you whine out. George groans “Damn right you are”. He gets off of you and starts to take off his clothes as quickly as possible, you soon follow his reactions. George moves over to the couch “come here beautiful” he said and you oblige. You get on top of him, unable to hold in your whines. You knew what was about to happen, George has fucked you like this before, It’s probably your favorite position.  Your boyfriend helped you lift your hips and aligned himself with your throbbing pussy before slowly pushing your hips down. “Fuck you’ve got such a tight little hole” he grunts. George’s grip on your hips tightened as he lifted you off of his cock and slid you back down. George got faster with every thrust. He was fucking up into you and you lived for it. “George” you moaned loudly, making the boy fuck harder and deeper into you. You writhed above him, taking everything he gave you. You started feeling yourself clench around George’s cock. “I'm so close George'' you whined “Me too,” he said between uneven breaths. George’s movements stop for a moment, hearing the front door squeak. George looked to the door frame and saw Oliver looking at them, deciding to let him hear you. He was going to make it clear that when you moan, you moan for him and him only. You didn’t know that Oliver was there, you were feeling too good to pay attention to your surroundings. George pounded roughly into you. You cried out broken moans of his name with every thrust. George kept eye contact with Oliver. George could tell that Oliver was pissed and didn’t give a fuck, he wanted George's girl. “Who do you belong to again?” he growled “You!” you moaned out and tucked your head to suck marks on his skin. “I'm sorry darling. I didn’t catch their name” he groaned “who makes you feel this good?” you moaned louder for him “George Weasley!”. George smirked at Oliver and knew how close you were, you get louder and -if possible- tighter. You cum hard, tightening around George’s cock and whimpering his name. George couldn't handle going much longer after hearing your pretty little whimpers and came inside of you. You lift your head and look to see what George was staring at “oh, hey Oliver”

TAGLIST: @georgeswh0re

[helliontherapscallion]

Unexpected Encounters (Adrenaline Junkie Part 8)

Part 1     Part 2     Part 3     Part 4     Part 5     Part 6     Part 7     Part 9     Part 10     Part 11     Part 12     Part 13     Part 14     Part 15     Part 16     Part 17

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: minor swearing

Word count: 2,775

You walked down the now worn cobblestone path towards the main plaza of the village by Philza’s house. Whistling the first verse of the L’manberg national anthem, you wove slightly at the crowd of people gathered at the stands that littered the sides of the street. 

The village was much larger than the entire L’manberg nation. It had several different precincts with a large, diverse group of people and a few hybrids living there. It also had more amenities like shops, a library (which, to your delight, grew expansively to include more books on inventions, some being exclusively about yours. They were proud people that embraced whatever fame comes out of the area), and multiple towering office buildings.

Everything’s changed since you’ve last been here a year ago. What was now more modern used to be traditional. What was loosely populated was now bustling with people. What used to be barren was now chock full of shops and apartment complexes. It was kind of jarring to see this much change in a little over a year.

In retrospect, it was jarring how much you changed in a little over a year. The hallucinations have finally almost completely stopped along with the nightmares. They only came about once a week now. You were slowly reincorporating green back into your wardrobe. Your phantom pain has retreated into your subconscious. It was always going to be with you, so you got used to the constant pain and tingling feeling. You learned to appreciate the small things in life and just live in the moment so you would have something positive to look back on in the future.

You invented several different gadgets to help your brothers win the L’manberg War of Independence such as a portable TNT launcher, handheld long-distance communication devices (which you affectionately dubbed walkie talkies since you could walk and talk! Wilbur and Tommy were not as enthusiastic of the name as you were), and a redstone powered crossbow that continuously fired arrows until you released the trigger. Though all of your inventions were practically your babies, they did not come anywhere close to trumping your magnum opus: your metal fully functioning wing. 

After several mishaps and failed attempts, you finally made your wing correspond to the electrical impulses in your muscles so that it copied the movements of your flesh wing. It’s built out of a lightweight hollow iron and has feather shaped metal pieces protruding off from it to emulate your other wing. It was a sleek silver color that always caught a ray of sunshine and reflected it to another place. It was basically permanently attached to your body by now due to it being a pain to take on and off. It was just easier and more efficient to keep it on constantly. 

People around you stared, some in awe and some in admiration. A stark difference from when you first lost your wing. Sometimes, you resented them for treating you differently just because your name became more widely known, but you were always a firm believer that everyone deserves a second chance. Even attention seeking, unscrupulous assholes looking for cheap brownie points from their peers because ‘I knew them before they were discovered! I knew them personally, we were, like, really close!’ So for now, you tried to ignore the ugly indignation bubbling in your gut and threatening to spew out in a string of hurtful words. You were sick of being angry, especially now that L’manberg is at peace. 

You passed several people who pointed at you and whispered amongst themselves. Ignoring them, you continued onward with your head held high and your wings folded in tightly to avoid children grabbing and pulling them with their grubby little hands. It always took you a while to clean and preen them after people touched them. You hated cleaning off fingerprints and grime from the smooth metal.

Walking with a sense of purpose, you continued onwards passing multiple shops and stands until you finally reached the butcher. Opening the decorated glass door, a little bell chimed alerting the burly man behind the counter of your presence. Like the others, he stared wide-eyed at you with his lips slightly parted in shock. Great, another exhausting encounter. 

Putting on a polite smile, you broke the silence of the meat shop. “Hello, I’m here to buy half a pound of fresh ground beef. Would you by chance have any in stock?” That seemed to snap him out of his stupor.

“O-of course, I’ll get that for you right away.”

He disappeared into the backroom where frosty fog rolled out in tiny clouds. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all. Maybe he wouldn’t ask any questions or try to get to know you on a personal level.

He returned in a hurry, slapping the wrapped beef onto the counter and giving you a price. Reaching into your wallet for the cash, you paid him generously. “Keep the change.”

“I-thank you, Mx. Minecraft.”

Putting the beef into your satchel, you gave him a more genuine smile. “Don’t mention it.”

Briskly walking out, you made a beeline for the village’s main entrance. You couldn’t stand the feeling of constantly being watched and talked about anymore. Why couldn’t they treat you like a normal person? In your opinion, you were, well, you. Nothing was special about you.

As you were about to cross the threshold of the village, you heard footsteps behind you.

“HEY! MX. MINECRAFT I NEED TO TALK TO YOU.”

Stopping dead in your tracks, you closed your eyes and took a few steadying breaths so that you wouldn’t lash out at this person. You just wanted to go to your childhood home and have a nice, peaceful dinner with your dad. Was that too much to ask? 

Opening your eyes and plastering on a fake smile, you turned around and greeted him. He was a young boy, probably around eleven or twelve years old. His clothes and shaggy auburn hair were disheveled and he had dirt smeared on his face. “Hello, to whom may I owe the pleasure?”

He put his hands on his knees and tried to talk between gasping breaths. “Mx, my name’s Arthur Fox, i-it’s truly an honor to meet you. I’ve admired your work since before the war in L’manberg. You’re an amazing inventor and I wanna be just like you when I grow up. I- oooh I’m sorry, I’m rambling aren’t I?” He kind of reminded you of Tubbo in a strange way.

“No, you’re fine Arthur. Thank you for being a fan of my work, but I must get going. I have an important meeting to attend to.” You weren’t exactly lying to the young boy. Turning on your heel, you started to walk off only to feel a hand on your arm.

“Mx, I need to talk to you.”

“I really have to get going, Arthur. It was a pleasure to meet you.”

“No, it’s important.”

You struggled to keep the smile on your face as you shrugged his arm off as politely as you could. This kid is determined. Too determined. “So’s my meeting. I have to go.” You started to walk off into the beaten forest path.

“Do you know about The Warden?”

You halted abruptly and sharply turned around. You let your smile and polite stature drop into pursed lips and sharp eyes.

“...Of course I do. Everyone does.”

Flinching slightly, he quickly recovered his confident facade. “No, that’s not what I meant. Do you know about The Warden?”

“Like I said,” you played stupid, “everybody does. Who doesn’t?”

He puffed his cheeks out in frustration. “Ugh, how could someone so smart be so stupid at the same time? I mean you met it didn’t you? It took your wing.”

You took a step forward and narrowed your eyes, fully facing him now. “How do you know about that? Who told you?” 

He stepped back. “I-I heard rumors a couple of years back that it got someone. I heard your name thrown around here and there.”

You gave him enough of a warning that you didn’t want to talk, but he ignored it and now he has to reap the consequences. At this point, you were so tired and drained from everyone trying to be buddy-buddy with you that you finally snapped. The only thing you wanted was to go home, you did not need this right now. 

“Well, Arthur, you shouldn’t pry into other people’s business. I’ve told you time and time again that I have to leave, yet you persist to stop me. Why? And where are your parents, didn’t they teach you any manners?”

He looked downwards and fiddled with his fingers. “They’re dead. T-The Warden took someone important to me. I… I thought you might be able to help me.”

Shit, you just yelled at a grieving orphan. You were a massive asshole weren’t you? Your eyes softened slightly and you frowned. “...I’m sorry for your loss. Is there anything I could do to make it up to you? Dinner perhaps? We can talk about how I could help you afterwards.”

He glanced up at you. “But-but what about your meeting.”

You winced. “Uh, I’m moving it forward, we have more pressing matters.” You paused awkwardly. “Do… Do you have anybody to ask permission? Any siblings?”

His shoulders drooped. “...No. I’m all by myself.”

Shit, you yelled at a grieving homeless orphan? God what kind of role model were you? 

“C’mon, kid. We’re going to my house.” 

His wordlessly followed you and avoided looking into your eyes. The walk to your childhood home was very awkward, neither of you attempted starting conversation. You sighed.

“Look, Arthur I’m sorry for yelling at you like that. That was really uncalled for, I shouldn’t have yelled or gotten mad. It’s just that- The Warden’s a… touchy subject for me.”

“It’s alright, Mx. Minecraft. You can make it up to me by… making me dinner and showing me some of your blueprints?”

He looked up to you with hope filled, sparkling eyes. You snorted. “It’s a deal, kid. We’re almost there.” 

You could see the silhouette of the house in the nearly setting sun. It was still the same as when you left a year ago. 

“Ya know,” you sighed out, “this is actually my Dad’s house. I’m just visiting him for a couple of weeks.”

“Where do you live then?”

“I live in the heart of L’manberg with my brothers.”

“That’s cool…” He trailed off. You frowned, it seems that he was nervous to meet your Dad. You probably should’ve mentioned that Philza was there to him before taking him here.

You stopped, grabbing Arthur’s shoulders. “Kid, you don’t have to worry about meeting my dad. He’s probably the kindest, most genuine man I’ve ever met. He’ll welcome you with open arms, that’s what he did with me and my three brothers. He adopted us all.”

He gave you a small smile. “Alright, Mx. Minecraft, I trust you.”

“Oh, please don’t call me ‘Mx. Minecraft’, it makes me feel ancient,” you lolled your head back and dramatically groaned out, making him giggle. “I just turned twenty, buddy. Feel free to call me (y/n).”

 Putting your hand on his shoulder, you led him to the front door. You twisted the old door knob and pushed the wooden door open.

“Dad, I’m home and I brought the beef!”

He popped his head out from the kitchen, his messy blond hair flopping onto his face. He gave you a joking smile. “Took you long enough, any longer and I would’ve locked ya out.” 

You watched as his eyes wandered over to Arthur. He frowned, revealing his frilly pink apron that Wilbur got him as a joke. Oh, you could just hear the gears in his head churning.

“...(Y/n), who’s this?”

Grinning sheepishly, you replied. “Dad, this is Arthur Fox. Arthur, this is my dad Philza Minecraft. I promised him dinner and somewhere to stay for the night. Do you have some of Tommy’s old clothes Artie could borrow for the night?”

He sighed, shooting you a we’ll-talk-about-this-later look. “Yes, they’re in the attic. I’ll grab them after dinner so he could shower before going to bed.”

Arthur timidly spoke up. “Thank you, Mr. Minecraft.”

Your dad softened and gave him a gentle smile. “It’s no problem, Arthur. And please, call me Philza. Mr. Minecraft makes me feel old.”

Arthur let out a loud laugh. Despite everything he went through, his laugh still sounds like an innocent child’s laugh. You chuckled, kids always had a silly little laugh. Philza grinned at him, a child’s laughter was something that he missed.

Arthur wiped at his eyes as his laughter died down. “I’m sorry, (y/n) said the same outside.”

“I did,” you smiled lightly at Arthur before looking back at Philza with mischief, standing up straight and putting your hands on your hips. “But I was funnier.”

“Pft, you wish. I was saying that before you were even born. So, I win because I’ve been saying it longer.”

“Whatever ya say, old man. Funniness over age.”

He playfully glared at you, placing an offended hand over his heart. “I’m not that old.”

“Ya kinda are, Dad. You’re practically turning to dust!”

He gasped. “I am not!”

“Are too!”

“Am not!”

“Are too!”

“Are too!”

“Am no- wait Dad, that’s cheating!”

“You still said it though!” He sang out, grinning at you cheekily.

“No, that doesn’t count!”

Arthur’s amused brown eyes bounced between you and Philza like he was watching a tennis match. Every so often, he would giggle at something one of you said. You both took your banter to the kitchen where you and Philza started to cook. Dinner was done and the table was set in no time. There was pleasant small talk as dinner neared an end

Your dad swallowed his last bite of beef and turned his attention towards Arthur. “So Arthur, how old are you?”

Arthur gave a small grin. “I’m ten.”

“Do your paren-”

You loudly coughed, throwing a discreet glare at Philza. Mouthing ‘don’t’ from behind your hand, you took a big sip of your water and stood up. “I’ll wash all the dishes. Arthur, would you like to look at some of my blueprints while we wait for my Dad to get you some clothes?”

His eyes shined with excitement. “Yes please!”

You chuckled, putting the plates in the sink and walking down to your old workshop to grab one of the blueprints you left in a filing cabinet. You grabbed the first draft for your prosthetic and the final draft for the automatic farm.

Upstairs, you situated the blueprints in front of Arthur at the dinner table. “Okay buddy, learn to your heart’s content. I’m gonna do the dishes. If you need something just give me a shout.”

Walking into the kitchen, you filled the sink with warm soapy water and got started scrubbing. You moved your wings around subconsciously as you wiped the pots and plates clean of grease. Humming in satisfaction when you were done, you dried your hands and sat next to Arthur who was looking at your designs with complete awe. 

“You like them?”

He nodded his head so fast you thought it might fall off and started to fling questions at you. You smiled fondly at him, it was nice to see someone so interested in how your inventions were made and not just how they worked. 

You two were mid conversation when Philza walked into the room with a bundle of clothes in his arms. You grabbed Arthur’s hand and led him up to the bathroom. You bent down and rested your hands on your knees, looking at him.

“Alright buddy, everything you need is in there, clean towels are in the closet. When you’re done, I’ll be in my room just over there,” you pointed to your door. “Last door on the left. I can show you where you’ll be sleeping for the night when you’re done. Does that sound okay?”

He gave you a gap-toothed smile. “Yes, thank you (y/n)! You’re the best!”

He closed the bathroom door and you stood there. You felt… oddly fond for the boy you just met only hours before. 

Philza cleared his throat and pinned you to the wall with a stern look. “(Y/n), explain now.”

“I will, but let’s talk in my room so Arthur can shower in peace. Poor boy needs it.”

He sighed and walked into your room. You had a long talk ahead of you.

(A/N): so, how do you guys like Arthur?

Taglist (comment if you want to be added):

@acecarddraws  @goldenstarofthunderclan  @ravennightingaleandavatempus  @dirtydiavolo  @yeiras-world  @immadatmostthings  @hee-hee-haw  @jackalopedoodles  @m1lkmandan  @vanhakirja  @im-a-depressed-gay  @coolleviauchihadreamerlove  @questioning-sanity  @camisascam

@bongwaterflavoredgatorade  @kakamiissad  @jayistrash4  @lifestylesleep  @speedymaximoff  @sun-shark-tooth  @appetiteofapeoplepleaser  @lestrangenymph  @kinismanditory  @dragons-lurk-here  @rinzyx05  @the-wandering-pan-ace  @sparkling-gayyyy  @angelic-scent  @shinipii  @dont-hug-me-im-a-fander  @izzydimensional  @used-avocado  @laura--444

[millenialfanfictionaddiction]

Go Go Karasuno: An Old Rival (Pt 1)

THIS FIC IS 18+ 

Warnings: swearing, light teasing 

Word Counts: 7,000+

Flasback

"Keishin you asshole" you shout for the end of the court. God how you despised Ukai Keishin! The man was the bane of your existence at Karasuno High. He was always one upping you. Always one step ahead. He always got the praise while you remained in his shadow.

"Calm down Y/N! I'm just teasing you. I promise I'll be quiet during your serve this time" Keishin says as he smirks at you through the net.

"You say that every time asshole, yet we continue to have this discussion" you say with a huff.

 You are annoyed and honestly just fed with with him. You didn't even want this practice match but of course, a lot of the girls had crushes on the boys team so you felt like you had to join. Even thought you couldn't stand Keishin’s big ego clogging up your breathing room.

"Just serve Y/N. Ignore him" one of your teammates shout.

 You take a deep breath, tossing the ball up to serve.

Serving required the utmost concentration for you. You didn't know how people could effortlessly serve with background noise and people cheering. You hated that. You're teammates knew it and so did your coaches. Most of the time you didn't have to worry about noise, but when you were playing the boys team, you knew you always had to worry about something.

"Just do it already" you hear a voice shout as your hand smacks the ball in front of you causing it to barrel towards the net.

"Aye net ball" Keishin yelled from the other side of the court as he snickered at you.

"I'm seriously gonna kick your-" you start to say as your teammates gather ground to stop you from commit a felony.

"Alright that's enough" Coach yells from the sidelines "lets wrap it up."

You sigh as the boys high five each other, celebrating their victory. You line up with your team as you prepare to thank the boys team and shake hands.

You approach the net, extending your hand to Keishin while looking down.

 "Better luck next time Y/N. But hey I can see the improvement. Just try getting it over the net next time" he smiles shaking you hand as you continue to stare at the floor.

Anger. You are so mad that he beat you again.

You sulk to the sidelines as you begin to dry off with a towel and drink your water.

"Will I ever be as good as him?"

Flashback ends

8 years. 

8 whole years have passed since you last seen Keishin or any of the Karasuno Alumni. Now you find yourself standing at the gates wondering how fate brought you here.

It wasn't like your memories of High School were awful. You got good grades, played volleyball. You were even the captain of the girls team your 3rd year. For all intensive purposes, you loved High school. 

 You just hated Ukai Keishin with a passion. Sure you realized your teenage hatred of the man was petty. Of course it was. It was almost 10 years ago but yet you couldn't forget the man. There was just something that irked you to no end about him and you were glad your past 8 years had been Keishin-free.

After high school, you traveled to Toyko for school. After graduating you worked in Tokyo in a corporate office. You loved the job a lot. The city life was right up your alley. The people, the shopping, the nightlife. Everything. Not that you necessarily partook in those activities but you enjoyed the options. You had friends, your whole life was in Tokyo.

It's not like you wanted to be back in Miyagi. It wasn't by choice you were here.

 You're parents had left after you graduated high school, following you to the cities. Unfortunately, when your grandfather got sick, you were the only one who could help. 

Your parents both had prior commitments with work and you didn't have family in the area. You're job allowed you to work remotely. It was both a blessing and a curse. You were only going to be in town for a few weeks. Just to get your grandfather and grandmother settled in a senior living center. 

 Your parents had offered them to move in with them in Toyko but your grandfather would have none of it. He was as stubborn as they come. He hated the idea of "the big city". Your grandmother didn't really mind anyway but she wasn't going to leave your grandfather as long as he was living so you just gave up.

So how does that bring you back to Karasuno you ask? 

Well a few of your fellow alumni had found out you were back in town. I'm talking Takinoue Yūsuke and Shimada Makoto, both former classmates as well as former volleyball players. You knew they were friends with Keishin but you never minded them. They were always nice to you and treated you kindly. Sure they joked around with you but they never pressed you like Keishin did. So imagine your surprise when you showed up to Shimada Mart with your grandma in toe only to find Makoto stocking shelves.

To say you were shocked wouldn't be entirely accurate, I mean his name is on the store. You just figured he had moved on. When he invited you for drinks with Yusuke, you accepted. 

 Not once did the conversation turn to Keishin which you appreciated. The men knew of your rivalry well. It almost seemed like neither of you had moved on from one another.

They had talked about the boys team and how amazing they were. You still enjoyed volleyball talk and even played on a small team in Toyko on the occasional weekends. They told you about their neighborhood association and how they were playing a match with the boys of Karasuno. They mentioned needing a setter to which you immediately perked up. You didn't ask questions, not even thinking about why they needed a setter.

You figured since the conversation avoided Keishin that he was no longer in the area. You knew of his families store but also knew that he probably didn't live around here. You offered your services as a setter for a practice game. The men looked at one another, nodding in agreement. You figured what could be the harm. You got to play volleyball and kick some kids asses.

It would be a lot of fun.

Keishin finished up his shift at his family store leaving it to his mother to tend while he attended practice. He hadn't thought much high-school since he graduated honestly. He was happy in his life.

He had good friends, a solid family support system and of course, he was the head coach of the Karasuno boys volleyball team. He walked to practice as he's thoughts drifted. They often did. He'd light a cigarette, think about things and by the time he finished, he was at the gates to Karasuno. He had scheduled a practice match tonight. He knew the neighborhood association lacked members but the Karasuno boys were always willing to fill in. 

For some ungodly reason, his thoughts drifted to you. He hadn't thought about you in years.

That was a lie. A complete lie.

He actually thought about you often and how he was a complete and utter jerk in high school. He would never admit he had a crush on you back then but he did enjoy your little rivalry the two of you had. He always thought you were a great setter but he always strived to be better. It was just how he was. He knew his little crush would never amount to anything. You were way smarter and way more attractive. You had life goals and he strived to stay on the volleyball team. He hadn't dreamt of leaving Miyagi. He knew he wasn't college bound. He knew he'd always be here but you, you always dreamed of more and he admired that.

He thought you were probably some rich lady by now with a husband and a family. He laughed because he imagined your husband staying home while you worked because that's just how you were. You were strong and independent. You never settled.

Keishin entered the gym where the Karasuno boys were practicing.

"The neighborhood association will be here in 10 minutes" he yelled.

"Yes coach" the boys yelled in return as they continued to warm up for their practice game.

"Suga I'm going to need you to set for the association again tonight" he said. Sugawara Koushi nodded as he went back to warming up with the spikers. Takada Ittetsu, Karasuno’s faculty advisor and other coach, soon came bounding into the gym as he often did. He was always racing around it seemed like. 

 He had meetings, papers to grade and other things teachers worried about. Keishin laughed at how different him and Takeda were yet they made a great coaching team.

"Alright guys the show is here" a voice shouted from the doors as they were thrown open.

Keishin sighed, placing his head in his hand. 

"Takinoue you talk to much" Shimada rolled his eyes as he smacked Takinoue on the shoulder walking over to Keishin.

"I've got Suga warming up for you guys" Keishin said to Makoto.

"Ahh no need tonight man, we've got a setter" Shimada said as he rested his hand on Keishin’s shoulder.

"Huh?" Keishin questions and the doors flew open. His eyes and the eyes of the rest of the teams eyes flew to the door.

Keishin froze

"Damn I see they still haven't fixed these God forsaken doors. It's been like 10 years damn" you said as you switched from your street shoes.

Everyone was staring at you.

"Hello everyone" you smile as you wave, still not noticing the long blonde hair coach on the sidelines staring holes in your head.

The boys bowed to you as you smiled.

 You turned your body to walk to Shimada as you begin to speak "you should have told me-" you stop making direct eye contract with Keishin, your mouth dropping open.

"Keishin?" You say shockingly

"Y/N?" Keishin said equally as shocked.

"Oh whoops" Takinoue looks at you laughing awkwardly "I guess we forgot to mention the little detail that Keishin is the Karasuno teams coach ha ha"

Shimada's eyes went wide as he waited for you to speak.

"Yes you forgot to mention that LITTLE detail" you speak sharply as you whip your head to both Shimada and Takinoue.

Keishin is still frozen.

You're here? Why? How? And your setting for the Neighborhood association? Oh dear God!

"Long time no see Keishin" you speak directly as you look at him.

He thought you were beautiful then but now you looked spectacular! His brain and heart were thinking and beating at 1000 miles per hour yet no words were formed from his mouth.

Gosh this was awkward.

Shimada and Tokinoue watched in wonder.

 Everyone did.

 The Karasuno team could sense the tension between you two.

"What's with coach I've never seen him this quiet" Tanaka Ryunosuke whispers to Nishinoya Yu.

"No clue but it's making me nervous" Noya said in response.

You wanted for Keishin to speak only to be met with silence

"Well ok then" you clap your hands together "I'm here to set so let's get this show on the road."

You walk towards the practice jerseys as you slip one on. Everyone seems stunned but nobody says anything. You look back at everyone as they awkwardly go back to their tasks.

Takinoue walks up to you as you start stretching. You glare at him.

"This is all your fault" you say sharply as he puts on a practice jersey.

"Don’t expect any sets today" you growl as you walk to the sidelines talking with your new team for the evening.

The boys welcome you with open arms. Ennoshita Chikara, one of Karasuno's wing spikers greats you with a bow.

"Umm miss would you mind if we practice a few sets before the game starts?" He asks pleasantly.

"Oh please call me Y/N! And of course! I'm a new setter to you so I totally understand wanting to get comfortable" you smile as you walk towards the net.

Keishin is still staring. You're sure his eyes dried out by now from not blinking.

Ennoshita describes his ideal setup to you as you are mental notes. You remember a teammate who had a similar style so you try to adjust what you can.

 Ennoshita throws a ball to you as you set perfectly for a kill.

"Nice kill" you say with a smile. Ennoshita blushes.

"That was a great set Y/N! I don’t think I've hit a ball that confidently in a long time" he says with a smile as he rubs the back of his head.

"Well thank you but I'm a bit rusty. The ball drifted a bit too much towards the net for my liking. I'll adjust" you say with a smile as the next teammate tosses to you.

“She hasn't changed a bit” Keishin thinks to himself.

He always thought you were too hard on yourself in high school. He admired you but you were always trying to do more. He knew you didn't really like him but he didn't actually know the reason. He just thought you found him to be annoying.

Keishin snaps out of his thoughts as he blows the whistle. Everyone lines up, thanking each other for the game as they proceed to their spots.

The game goes on for a while. You see Kageyama Tobio and Hinata Shoyo’s quick and your eyes sparkle. You knew that move had to be a shocker to almost anyone playing against them. You learned to never underestimate a player. You knew the smallest players were out the most dangerous. But you had to admit that even the quickness and trust the duo displayed was phenomenal.

During a break, Kageyama asked if you'd observe his technique. You felt honored as you knew the boy was a prodigy. He was a quick thinker on the court and adapted well. You could also tell he was a lot like you were. He was hard on himself and always strived to do better. You observed the infamous "falling toss" that just stopped mid air. It was amazing to see. You'd never even dream of being able to pull something off like that.

Honestly it seemed like a “Keishin” move to you. You laughed as you thought about all the times you rolled your eyes at his ridiculous sets. He was always trying to outrun the blockers. Always trying to open the paths for his spikers.

"That tosses was phenomenal boys" you smile as you applaud their efforts. They both bow as they disperse and continue their training. 

Your eyes met Keishins again.

Honestly we're you really going to ignore him this whole time?

“It's been almost 10 years Y/N he's probably matured” you think to yourself as you gather the courage to approach the coach. Then again this was Ukai Keishin we were talking about. The asshole who constantly made it a mission to get under your nerves in high school.

When the second practice match started, you were you to serve. Keishin smiled to himself thinking about the cute look you got on your face as you prepared to serve. It made his hard warm. You didn't fail to notice his smile but you're thoughts automatically drifted back to high school. You hated that smile so much.

You prepared to serve as suddenly you heard someone clear their throat. You missed the serve completely, hitting a net ball. Keishin snickered to himself.

“Man you really hadn't changed all that much” he thought as he was thinking about how much you hated missing serves.

Your neck snaps to him as you glare "I know you did that on purpose" you spit at him.

Keishin just smiles "Y/N you really think I'm out here to mess your serves up?"

You definitely hadn't changed.

You huffed as you glared at Keishin as he smirked.

Shimada and Takinoue looked at each other. Part of them was hoping they would see you chuck a ball at Keishin while a part of them wondered how you two had managed to ignore your feelings for each other for so long.

The game ended as the boys cleaned the gym and thanked you for the game.

Keishin watched as you took off the practice jersey. Your shirt lifting, exposing your tummy bit to reveal your smooth skin. It was now or never .

"Umm hey Y/N, thanks for helping out" he says as he approaches you

You continue to wipe the sweat from your forehead as you take a drink of water. "No problem. It's a great team you have here" you say while avoiding eye contact.

Keishin wished you'd just look at him. You really didn't still hate him did you?

"Well I’m off" you say as you wave and smile to the team and the association. You quickly move to the gym doors, replacing your shoes and walking away.

"You sure blew that one" Shimada snickers behind Keishin.

"She really had no clue I was the coach?" Keishin looks at Shimada.

"Not one clue" he says in return "besides this provided so much entertainment." He throws his head back laughing as he walking towards the gym doors.

“Wyou blew this one Keishin” he thinks to himself as he sighs taking a seat in a folding chair.

He really did blow this one.

taglist: @axoxtxhxh​

[dovechim]

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.

[theglitterypages]

Title: Secret Life of Levi Ackerman Part 1

Part Two

Pairings: Levi x fem! Reader

Summary: When Levi noticed that his brats are all tired, hungry some are even injured, he decided to tell them to retreat and brought them to a village nearby and a big secret was revealed.

Word Count: 2000+

Warnings: None

A/N: Sorry if this is a bad one. There will be errors ahead so bear with me guys, I will edit it soon once I have the time.

••••••

“Levi, where are we going?" Hanji asked when Levi ordered everyone to retreat, Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Jean and Connie was puzzled too but they didn't choose to question the Captain. They trust the man and they know Levi wouldn't get them killed purposely.

Levi sighed as he looked back to Hanji, exhaustion was evident in his face. “We need to rest, there's a village nearby and we'll have some break there.” Levi plainly answered. The captain looked back at the kids and gestured them to follow, “Go faster, brats.” he smirked.

••••

You were busy cooking for your lunch when you heard horses neigh nearby. You carefully walked to the living room to look outside your window to see what was happening and you gasped when you saw a man outside your house.

You immediately opened the door just to see 6 other people that doesn't seem familiar to you, most of them were young and they were petting their horses. “Lev...I didn't know you'll go home today.” you looked at Levi and he smiled apologetically as he looked behind him, gesturing the kids behind. “These brats are probably hungry now, two of them are wounded too. Sorry if I came home like this.” your gaze landed at the kids and at the woman smiling at you.

“Well, I was just cooking. Leave the horses here and go inside.” you called them out.

Even if they are clueless, the whole squad came inside. It was a decent looking home, not that big but not small either, just enough for a family of four or five. “Sit down, all of you. Wait for me here.” Levi ordered. The kids sat down while Hanji curiously looked around her, puzzled of why Levi brought them here.

Levi followed you to the kitchen and hugged you from behind, you giggled quietly and turned to face him.

“You look tired.” you pointed out.

“Sorry, we just lost almost half of—” you cut him off by pressing your fingers in his lips, you wouldn't want to heart it because you know that talking about it breaks Levi even more. “Shh, I know. For now, give the kids some bread while I cook. I'll treat their wounds too.” you kissed his cheek and pulled away from him so you could see if the food is cooking well.

“This was not what I've promised you when we got married.” Levi whispered. It didn't look like he was saying it to you, he's actually saying it to himself.

The two of you has been married for three years, you met him when he got accidentally wounded while fighting the titans, your cousin, Erwin went home with an injured Levi and because of your knowledge in medicine you were the one who treated Levi's wounds.

Every time you'll visit Erwin, you'll be seeing Levi too, at first he would just greet you and would leave after that but when you visited Erwin one day and he was nowhere to be found, Levi accompanied you all day, he wasn't talkative but he's a nice guy, people just tend to be scared of the way he stares and the way he speaks because he's so straightforward.

The two of you became friends, got closer and closer until romance blooms amidst all of the ongoing chaos. After 6 months, he asked Erwin if he could marry you, your parents are long gone and the only family you have is Erwin.

Erwin had no complain about you and Levi that's why the two of you got married immediately, it was an intimate ceremony, only those who are close enough were allowed to witness the wedding and it was more than fine to you, the most important part is you married the love of your life. That was more than enough.

For three years, the only time you could see Levi is during weekends, the time where he would leave his squad temporarily to go home to you and if there are not much expeditions outside the wall he comes home with Erwin's permission during weekdays.

Of course, there are times where he couldn't even go home to you but you understand, really, Erwin talked to you about marrying Levi, a man who's serving in Survey Corps would be tough, especially every time that they're outside the walls there's no guarantee that they'll come back alive but you still said yes, that is how much you love Levi and you've always trust him and his promise that he'll do his best to come home.

“But I know the man I married, Levi. I know that you can only go home to me during weekends and it's completely fine, I know there's a chance you'll go home with broken hand or foot, it scares the shit out of me but as I've said, I know who I married.” you cupped his face and pressed your lips against his, a silent reminder that despite o everything happened or anything that would happen, you will stay with him.

Levi close his eyes as he snaked his arms on your waist and pulled you closer as if he's holding onto his life. He kissed you back passionately and when he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours.“What did I do to deserve a woman like you?” he smiled bitterly, you let out a chuckle and combed his hair using your fingers.

“We all deserve some time to rest from the cruel world, my love. I will be your rest.”

Levi didn't move, he just stared into your eyes as he holds you close to his chest, in this chaos, you're the only one that brings him peace, the only one who motivates him to stay alive so he could come home, you're the one that makes him feel normal and every time that he'll come home to you, it feels like he's a normal man, a normal husband.

And he's starting to hate himself because he realized how ridiculous the whole set up was, he loves you so much and yet you couldn't even have him by your side all the time, that fact breaks his heart and that fact also motivates him to work harder so he could eliminate the titans so he could finally put his weapons down and be with you.

That's what he wanted, a peaceful life with you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Lev. Go and give these breads to the kids for Pete's sake.”

Hanji looked at the kids beside her, they all look exhausted and mortified because they witnessed deaths again but it's the consequence of serving in Survey Corps, no one should hesitate to sacrifice their lives because every deaths would be an aid to humanity.

The silence was deafening, it was a silent mourning of the kids who saw their comrades die and Hanji gave them the silence that they need, they're still new to this and she understands that they'll always be shaken up.

“Oi, here's some bread and water. How's the arm, Connie and Jean?"

“It hurts but we're fine Captain." the two answered. Levi sat across from the group and he sensed that everyone has been itching to ask the questions that had formed in their head but there's one person who looks to be more excited to know everything that's why Levi called out that person. “Okay, you have questions, Eren.” he began, Eren looked up, shocked that Levi has deduced that he wanted to ask something.

He's just curious but if Levi wouldn't want to answer he would respect his decision, anyway.

“W-Who is she?" He stammered.

“I'm Y/N...” You answered as you sat beside Levi who immediately put his arms around you, in return, you let your hand rest in his thigh, slowly caressing it with your hand, it's a thing that you do that he loves so bad.

“She's my wife...” he announced. He has to say it in the most simple way, there's no need to be dramatic because their reaction would be dramatic anyway.

Hanji's jaw literally dropped on the floor while the kids were all frozen.

“WAIT...WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US?! SHE'S—OH MY GOD YOU'RE COMMANDER ERWIN'S COUSIN HOLY FUCK THAT'S WHY YOU'RE FAMILIAR OH MY GOD!”

You laughed loudly at Hanji's reaction, she's the first one to talk because the kids seems to not know what to say perhaps they're just trying to weigh things about the whole situation. It would be really shocking but it's not like Levi purposely hid the fact that he's married, you know that he's just trying to make your life as normal as it was before marrying him but marrying a man Levi would never be normal.

“Well, you know that Lev's not the type of person to talk about himself, right?” Hanji put a hand on her chest as she tried processing the information she heard just now. Now she realized how Levi would always disappear after expeditions, how he would have some things to ‘take care of’ during weekends, the way Erwin would remind him to come back alive, it was because Levi has someone waiting for him and it is you.

“Ah, I remember, who's injured?” you changed the topic as you remember Levi talking about two wounded kids.

“Us.” Connie and Jean answered in unison.

You smiled and stood up to look for your first aid kit, it's a must to have this considering your husband does come home with wounds, you hated it when he comes home injured but at least he's alive, right? “Lev, can you check if the food is cooked already?” you looked at Levi before sitting between Jean and Connie.When Levi heard your order he didn't complain and just made his way to the kitchen.

Mikasa's mouth gaped open, she doesn't really expect Levi to follow someone's order if it's not Erwin but he obeyed you too quickly to the point that she's wondering if this is the same Levi, the captain.

“What are your names?” You asked as you put a bandage in Connie's arms.

“A-Armin...”

“Mikasa.”

“Connie...”

“Jean.”

“Eren.”

“Ah...Hanji.”

You looked at the girl named Mikasa, she's really pretty but you noticed how her eyes looks so sad her eyes are beautiful but they've become dull her eyes would've been more beautiful if its sparkling because of glee.

And when you looked over at the blonde boy named Armin, the teen immediately blushed before looking down. A small smile made its way across your lips he's really cute.

“Oi, Oi, Oi, why are you blushing, brat?” Levi appeared. His tone was dangerous and Armin's eyes widened as he looked up at the Captain, the poor kid looks so scared that's why you decided to walk towards Levi and pinch him on his waist lightly, “Stop scaring him. He looks so cute and tiny, I want to adopt him, well all of them.” you giggled.

“Unfortunately, I don't want to adopt brats.” Levi snorted as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you close to him.

“Shut up, I know you love them. They told ne their names, they're the kids you're talking about.” You exposed him. The thing that most people wouldn't believe about your husband is that he's talkative maybe just because of you but Levi always tell stories whenever he gets home.

Most of the time it would be about his expeditions, you encourage him to tell you everything both good and bad as you don't want Levi to carry the burden alone, he may be called as humanity's strongest soldier but Levi is still a human after all. You want to make it easy for him, let him feel that he's not alone.

You saw how shocked the teens were and you smiled sweetly before placing your hand in Levi's chest.

“Don't mind Levi, he's just embarrassed to admit it but he loves all of you and he's proud of all of you like a dad.”

Levi looked away when the kids sent him a look even Hanji did but he wouldn't have to deny it because he does talk about them whenever he gets home, as much as he hates them for being all loud and messy, he just have to admit that he also loves these kids. Even if they're all brats.

“Tch. The food is ready, let's eat.”

End of Part 1

[taestefully-in-luv]

The Island | KTH (Two)

Summary: You’re just two strangers waking up in a room on a lonely island where a company in the business of love has placed you. They believe that thanks to their in depth research you two are destined soulmates. What happens when your ‘soulmate’ and you want nothing to do with each other but falling in love is the only way to leave?

Pairing: Taehyung x Female reader

Genre: strangers to lovers, very slight enemies to lovers, soulmates au, roommate au, slow burn, fluff, smut, angst, slight crack, and drama.

Word Count: 10.4k

Warnings: swearing

Notes: Hi everyone! Here’s ch2 of the new story, hope you guys like it. let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or send an ask if just want to chat!:)

Taglist: @ggukkieland @monvieesdaebak @707sblog @peacedreamer14 @dopedreamfireparty @everythingnamjoon @taebae19 @typicalgenzworld @mooniyooni

© taestefully-in-luv

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You don’t think you have ever been this bitter in your life—and you have a few things you can be bitter about. You could honestly make a list. But this? This is the ultimate bitterness and you hate it. It is driving you absolutely nuts! You’re alone with a man on an island…that’s lonely enough, right? Well, said man doesn’t even want to talk to you…that makes it ten—no, a million times more lonely. And you have every right to be bitter about that. So, yes maybe you are being a little petty when guys do interact.

It’s not like you are trying to purposely be petty, no, it’s not like that. You just can’t help your smart ass mouth or how childish you can become. Taehyung doesn’t seem to mind completely though, he just has his own smart ass comments or he becomes childish himself. It’s a horrible mix! Neither of you win! And you always want to have the last word but with Taehyung as your opponent it’s almost impossible.

“Maybe if you weren’t always following me, they would have sent us home by now.” Taehyung states bitterly as he puts his slice of bread on top of his now made sandwich.

“I’m not following you.” You roll your eyes, “I have to eat too.”

“You can’t wait until I’m done?”

“You look pretty done to me…” You point at his sandwich and he scoffs.

“I still have to eat it.”

“Eat in your room for all I care.”

You and Taehyung are getting along just fine…maybe not swimmingly but like, fine. It’s been a couple weeks and you have mostly stayed out of one another’s way but it’s moments like this that you end up interacting.

“I think I’ll eat at the table, thanks.” He grabs his sandwich and makes his way to the dining room table, sitting down with a thump. He aggressively picks up his sandwich and takes a bite while showing you a smart ass smile.

“Fantastic,” you state, “Me too.” You finish pouring milk into your cereal bowl and set it back inside the fridge. You dramatically make your way over to the table as well, giving him a wide grin as you sit down in front of him. You slightly slam your bowl down on the table, some milk dribbling over the edge of the bowl and Taehyung snarls.

“Great, you’re making a fucking mess.”

“If you went up and ate in you room you would have no idea about this mess.”

“But you still would have made this mess?”

“Ignorance is bliss, Taehyung.”

“You’re such a…” he stops, setting his lips into a firm line and you lean your head forward, clearly curious about what you are.

“Such a…?” you blink at him repeatedly and his lips curve upward into a charming smile.

“A fucking brat.” Taehyung grabs his sandwich again and takes an obnoxious bite while grinning and you give him your best annoyed eye roll.

Okay, maybe a little less than fine. This company has got it all wrong! All. Fucking. Wrong. You two are barely getting along! It’s just eye roll after eye roll, smart ass comment after smart ass comment. That’s it. That’s the relationship. Taehyung barely spares you a glance throughout the day. You do your own thing and he does his. You won’t lie though…you are curious what he gets up to…the last week he has left the house and doesn’t come back until sunset…and he comes back sweaty and exhausted.

You want to ask what he does, you do, you really do. But something tells you he wouldn’t even tell you even if you begged. And you’re not about to beg for this asshole.

So, you guys keep to yourselves save the occasional breakfast/lunch/dinner run in. While he does god knows what, you have also been trying to keep yourself busy. You have recently learned to cook a couple meals, nothing too fancy but you feel proud. You play a lot of games, read a lot of books and watch a lot of movies.

But to put it simple—You’re bored. Fucking bored. You miss human interaction. You hate to say it but your food run ins are mostly on purpose at this point…you just want someone to chit chat with for a few moments even if its unpleasant conversation—because hey! At least it’s conversation.

You and Taehyung eat in silence after your little convo, he and you share strange eye contact…you call it strange because it’s more like he glares at you and you glare at him. Your eyes never leave one another. You feel like he’s trying to cast like, black magic on you, maybe something where if he glares enough you will burst into flames. You assume this because that’s exactly what you’re doing.

“Stop looking at me.” Taehyung finishes his last bite, wiping his mouth clean with a napkin.

“You stop looking at me.” You fire back and he sighs, folding his arms across his chest.

“Why would I look at you?”

“Why would I look at you?” you mock, shoving a spoonful of cereal into your mouth and Taehyung squints at you.

“Oh yeah, real mature y/n.” His lips curl inward and he relaxes his arms at his sides as he stands from the table.

“I’m going to my room now.”

“You literally don’t have to announce everything you do.” You raise the bowl to your lips and drink back the leftover milk. You don’t want to look at Taehyung’s expression, you know you’re being ruder than usual. You’re just bitter. Yeah, pretty god damn bitter. You hear Taehyung release a long breath, and you’re starting to think he’s right, maybe you are a brat.

“Goodnight y/n.” he says much softer than you were expecting.

Yeah, maybe you are a brat.

~~~~~~

You’re snuggled up on the living room sofa, the TV plays some cartoon movie you found on the shelf (obviously one of his picks). The movie is on a low volume as you have a book in your hands. You just started it this morning and you have not put it down, it’s called The Roommate, a funny and sexy novel. Too bad your own roommate is nowhere near funny nor sexy. Okay, maybe he’s a little sexy. But his attitude is the opposite of sexy so therefore he isn’t sexy. Yeah, totally. Whatever you have to say to yourself, right? It’s evening now and you’re almost done with the book, you have hardly taken a break from reading. This reminds you of your last memories before the island…the night before you were…kidnapped. Yeah, kidnapped. That’s how you would describe it.

The night before you were like this…snuggled on your sofa in your parent’s house…

“All I’m saying is it doesn’t seem like you’re trying that hard to—”

“Honey, relax.” Your dad cuts in. Your mom is going on and on again about how you still haven’t found another job.

“Relax? Our daughter suddenly left her job and moved back to town!” Your mother throws her hands up, “And she won’t even tell us why!”

You sit here, your knees to your chest as you read your book. You try your best to ignore your mother…you two have rarely ever seen eye to eye. If you told her why you “quit” your previous job and why you had to move back home she would probably find a way to blame you.

“She will tell us when she’s ready.” You hear your dad whisper to your mother. “Don’t push her, you know that makes it worse…”

You can’t help but nibble on your lips, starting to feel the anxiety build. You try to focus on the words on the pages in front of you but they’re beginning to become blurred.

“Oh what is she 5 years old? You treat her like a child! She’s an adult she can handle a little confrontation.”

Your eyes lose focus on the words in front of you, instead all you see is blurred vision thanks to the tears that try to visit.

“I’ll be going to sleep now.” You announce, closing your book and setting it on the end table next to the sofa. “Goodnight.” You grab your phone and stand from your place on the couch. Thankfully, your dad offers a soft ‘goodnight sweetie’ and your mom just nods her head.

You make your way down the hall to your bedroom, opening and closing the door quickly. You lean back on the bedroom door and sigh out, blinking away any tears that tried to appear. You won’t cry. Not again. You feel your phone buzz in your hand, startling you. You unlock your phone to see who messaged you when you see it lit up with a notification from him. You feel your whole world collapsing. Why the fuck is he messaging you?

You stare at your books pages, in deep thought as you recall your last night before the island. You don’t want to remember honestly. You shake your head, ridding yourself of your thoughts when the side door opens in the kitchen. It’s Taehyung. He’s sweaty and clearly exhausted again…what the hell does he do outside for so many hours?

“Hi.” You say, looking up at him from your book. Wait. Why did you greet him?

“Hi…?” Taehyung is just as surprised as you are, with his wide eyes and open mouth. He scrunches his brows together as he eyes you. He gives you a small wave, confusion written all over his face as he begins walking through the entry way and heading upstairs.

You sit here embarrassed as hell. Why did you say hi? And why was your voice so high pitched? You turn red, redder than you probably can imagine. You drop your face in your book and groan, wishing you didn’t say something as simple as ‘hi’.

You have to remind yourself you two aren’t talking. That your roommate here at Casa de la Trapped, isn’t looking to become buddy buddy with you. Which sucks because you are human, you know, a social creature. What’s the harm in becoming friends? Sure you two banter, but you can tell he isn’t a bad guy. You just don’t get any bad vibes from him, in fact sometimes it seems like he’s forcing himself to be closed off.

You try to go back to your book when you hear a faint yelp from upstairs. Did Taehyung just kind of…scream? You sit here with your book, your ears in the direction of the stairs trying to listen for any indication that something is wrong. But it’s silent. You decide to go back to your book when you hear the noise of Taehyung running down the stairs. He is out of breath by the time he reaches you, standing next to the sofa.

You quite literally choke on your spit when you see him. This boy just don’t give a damn, huh? He’s standing here, trying his best to breathe evenly with nothing but a dark red towel hanging lowly around his hips. You gulp at the sight of him. You knew he probably had a nice body but you were not expecting this. His strong build surprises you, his soft, caramel skin glows even in this lighting and his muscles flex with every movement.

“Uh,” you begin, setting your book down again, “Can I help you?”

“As a matter of fact, yes.” Taehyung rushes to say, he sounds much different than usual. His voice is usually calm and deep but right now it’s panicked like a child.

“With what?”

“There’s a spider in the shower, I need you to take care of it.”

“You want me to kill a spider for you?”

“Kill?” Taehyung brings a hand to his chest, a shocked expression on his face. “All life is precious, y/n.” he pouts. “Just get it and take it outside.”

You tilt your head and try not to laugh as you look at him…he looks bothered, that’s for sure. But god, what a baby. Can’t even take care of a small bug by himself.

“Fine. Show me where it’s at.” You rise from the couch, pointing at the direction of the stairs.

“Yes, yes. I’ll lead the way!” Taehyung walks quickly. He makes his way upstairs with you following right behind him. He leads you into the bathroom when he brings back the shower curtain to show you the spider.

“Well?” you ask expectantly. “Where is it?”

Taehyung turns to face you, his face as white as a ghost.

“It was just here, I swear.”

You roll your eyes as you fight back a grin.

“Sure, Taehyung. Are you sure you weren’t just trying to show off your body?” you shamelessly drag your eyes down his body and he goes red.

“W-Why—why would I do that?” he murmurs out, “Plus, I am sure you’ve already imagined what I look like without clothes.” He recovers quickly, a smirk making its way on his face.

“Not likely.” You say nonchalantly. “Well, if there’s no bug—”

“Wait! You don’t expect me to use this shower still, do you?” He looks panicked again, like a small child.

“Uh, yes?”

“The spider could be lurking anywhere! Let me use your shower.” He suggests, loving his own idea. You on the other hand, do not love his idea.

“Nah.”

“Nah?”

“Yeah, nah.”

“y/n…” He whines, “Please. I’ll do anything.”

“Anything?” You raise a brow, a small smirk creeping on your face. “Okay, have breakfast with me tomorrow. And you actually have to talk to me.”

“y/n…” he warns. “You know we shouldn’t do that.”

“And I want 5 facts about you.” You stand your ground, your hands on your hips as you speak. “And I’ll give you 3 about me.”

“How is that even fair?”

“I’m the rule maker here, Taehyung.” You narrow your eyes at him, “Get used to it.”

Taehyung walks closer to you, his breaths reaching your skin.

“Oh y/n.” Taehyung’s voice goes low, “I definitely make the rules.” There’s a moment of strange tension as he stares down at you…then he’s speaking again. “If you only give 3 then I only give 3. That’s the deal.”

You stare up into his dark eyes and you struggle to swallow your own spit, he might only have a few inches over you but maybe they are a little intimidating.

“F-Fine. Use my shower.” You step out of his way and gesture towards your room. “See you at breakfast tomorrow.” You wink.

Taehyung rolls his eyes but this time it almost seemed playful and not overly dramatic. You don’t want to get your hopes up but when he’s not being closed off and frankly, rude, he’s really not that bad.

“Don’t get used to these types of deals.” Taehyung throws over his shoulder as he walks to your room. “Basically, don’t get used to me.” He says a little quieter, but you still hear him and you frown.

“Like, I would want to!” you yell out.

Taehyung does not want to leave this shower, ever. He’s almost kind of bitter that he let you have this room! You get the awesome rain shower and he’s stuck with some plain, basic shower head in the guest bathroom. He eyes all the different bottles that sit on the shelves inside the shower, these must be all the bottles you use in your real life, he thinks. He grabs the shampoo and opens it to sniff it. He’s never gotten close enough to you that he can smell your hair but man, this is what you smell like? Delicious. He squirts a generous amount of the shampoo in his palm with an evil glint in his eye and massages it into his scalp. Whoops, did he just use your shampoo? Oh well. He rinses his hair out and uses your conditioner as well, but he doesn’t stop there. He uses your body wash too! It smells divine and its making his skin so soft.

Taehyung just knows that him using your shit would bother you, he just gets that vibe. And he’s not sure why but riling you up is quite fun. Taehyung turns the water off and grabs his towel and starts drying off…he steps out on to the shower mat and eyes the room as he dries himself. He sees you organized all your lotions and whatever other products onto the sinks counter top, he sees how empty “his side” of the sink is. It previously held all his belongings that he had moved into his bathroom—the guest bathroom.

“Are you almost done in there?” He hears you knocking on the door. “I want to take a shower before bed!”

“Yeah, yeah.” He whispers out, “Hold on!”

Taehyung wraps the towel around his hips again and goes towards the bathroom door, he stops to check himself out in the mirror before opening the door.

“I’m all done, cry baby.” He rolls his eyes and you secretly hope they get stuck like that for how much he does it.

“Me, the cry baby? You wouldn’t even use your own show—”

“—anyway, bathroom is all yours.” He breezes past you, but stops before exiting the bedroom. “Um…” he turns around, “See you in the morning.” And then he’s walking out.

~~~~~~

You made eggs, bacon, pancakes, and have fresh fruit in a bowl all set up on the dining room table. For some reason you are too nervous to call out for Taehyung and let him know that breakfast is ready…you know, 30 minutes ago. You just patiently wait, sitting here tapping your fingers against the wooden table.

Another 20 minutes pass by when you hear faint footsteps from upstairs…he must now just be getting up, you think. You rush to reheat up some of the food before he makes his way downstairs. You set the bacon, eggs and pancakes back down on the table and make yourself busy like you haven’t just been waiting for almost an hour.

Taehyung finally walks through the kitchen, his face evident with sleep and his hair sticking out in all directions. He blinks at you lazily before his eyes widen in panic.

“B-Breakfast. I forgot—”

“It’s okay, I just finished.” You cut him off with a strained smile. “I see you like to sleep in.”

“Most days, yeah. Because I go to bed so late.” He admits sheepishly. Then he smirks. “Can that be fact number 1?”

“I’ll allow it.”

“Oh, you’ll allow it? How gracious of you.” Taehyung takes a seat at the dining room table and he starts with grabbing two pancakes from the pile and setting them down on his plate.

“You cooked all of this?” He asks, surprised.

“No, the other people who live here did it.” You deadpan.

“Always a smart ass.” He says while pouring syrup all over his pancakes, “Aren’t you going to sit down?”

“Right…” you make your way to the table and take a seat in front of him. You start with some pancakes as well, waiting for him to finish with the syrup so you can pour your own generous amount. He notices you waiting, his eyes finding yours and the corner of his mouth twitches into a sort of half smile. He slides the syrup across the table and your hand goes out to grab it, your fingers touching his.

“S-Sorry.”

“Sorry.”

You both get out at the same time. You stare at one another for another few seconds before Taehyung rolls his eyes,

“Big deal, our fingers touched. No need to get weird.” He chuckles, and you feel your heart feel all fucking weird.

“Anyway,” you clear your throat, “What’s fact number 2?”

Taehyung takes a bite of his pancakes and moans into the syrupy mess, his eyes finding yours again.

“Oh? You’re greedy for information.”

“I’m a little greedy.” You admit, “So?”

“Fact number 2…I’m almost 5’11.”

“So you’re 5’10. Just say you’re 5’10.”

“But I’m not just 5’10. Because I am almost 5’11.” He groans, “Can’t you just humor me here?”

“Okay Mister 5’11.” You laugh, “My fact number 2 is that I have one older sister.”

Taehyung nods his head, remembering the picture of you and some other girl that you looks a lot like you.

“I see.” He swallows his food, “So you’re the baby of your family?”

“Yes.”

“Yeah, I can tell.” He smirks at you, “You have that baby of the family vibe.”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?” you give him a curious look and he looks at you like you can’t be serious.

“Because you’re…you know,” he gestures towards you with a knowing look and you scoff.

“No, I don’t know.”

“Brat.” He states simply. “Because you’re a brat.”

“Whatever.” You grab for some eggs and bacon, and Taehyung does the same.

“So, what’s fact number 3?” you ask, piling some eggs onto your plate.

“Already want the last fact? We are barely just eating.” Taehyung points out. He shovels some eggs onto his own plate once you are done, and sticks a piece of bacon into his mouth.

“Greedy, remember?” you remind him with a smirk. “So?”

“I’m sure you already gathered this but…I’m an aspiring musician.”

“I figured you were…that, or an artist.”

“Art is just a really fun hobby for me.” He admits. He loves to paint but singing and making music is where his true passion lies.

“What’s your last fact?” he stuffs his face with another piece of bacon, you watch him as he eats the crispy meat.

“Umm…” you look up at the ceiling as you think, “I used to think I looked bad in sun glasses but then I got over that…so now I buy any cool, funky sunglasses I can find.”

“That’s a really random fact.” Taehyung chuckles, “I like cool, funky sunglasses too.”

“Wow, are you saying we actually have something in common?” you tease, bringing a forkful of eggs to your mouth.

“Don’t get used to it.” He says dryly. “Since we said all of our facts, I guess I can go now.”

“You’re not going to finish your food? Taehyung…” you place your hands on the table. “They’re not going to assume just because we are talking that we are falling in love for Christ’s sake.”

“Don’t want to give them any ideas.” Taehyung says a bit harshly. Your face falls into a frown and you stand from the table.

“You can finish your food. I’ll leave.”

Taehyung blinks up at you and opens his mouth to say something but he remains quiet. You shake your head at him and walk off into the living room. If he wants to continue this “Little to no interaction” thing then so be it!

Taehyung sits here with his appetite lost. He holds his fork in his hand out in front of him and attempts to cut into his pancakes when he just gives up. He drops the fork onto the table and sighs out.

“y/n…” he calls out but you ignore him. “y/n!”

“Don’t talk to me.” You say with as much attitude you can muster and Taehyung silently mocks your words. He grabs his fork and aggressively cuts into his pancakes and takes a bite.

“Fine by me!” He yells out with his mouth full.

“You’re so annoying!” You groan and Taehyung silently mocks your words again but you can’t see him.

“And you’re a brat!” He says stuffing his mouth with another slice of pancake.

Great. For a moment there you thought you two could almost get along but he is set on this bullshit of not talking. You walk to the shelves in the living room and choose a new book, another romance novel. You take a seat on the couch, and curl up into a blanket. Taehyung can do whatever he wants! You’re going to enjoy your book and forget all about his annoying ass.

~~~~~~

Taehyung is finally dressed into some shorts and a sleeveless shirt as he makes his way out of the house. He is going to continue working on his little…project. You are probably wondering what he gets up to everyday, he thinks.

He is working on building a raft. He wants to escape this island but he doesn’t know how to build a fucking raft and this company didn’t necessarily give him the tools to escape. But he’s figuring it out. He is quite literally breaking tree branches and going from there. But it is taking time but apparently he has all the time in the world. 3 months? 6 months? A year or even more? He releases a long breath as he walks the path to where his “raft” is. If anything it’s just nice to get out of the house and breathe the island air. This whole thing kind of just gives him something to do and he knows this may not really work but he’s got to try. He’s a man of action after all.

He finally sees his “raft” chilling against a tree close to the beach and he walks up to it. Already feeling frustrated just looking at the pathetic thing. He has to make it big enough for two people…he isn’t an asshole, he doesn’t plan on escaping by himself, leaving you here.

He goes to his knees and holds it up, he feels his frustrations bubble over and he throws it to the ground. How the hell is he supposed to escape with this shitty thing?

He slams his eyes shut and sinks into the sand. He wants to go home. Things aren’t easy here…he can’t sleep. He is surprised he’s eating as much as he is, and he has mostly bad interactions with you. And he knows that it’s his fault. But he knows this is for the best but he can tell it’s not what you want. To be honest, this is actually really hard for him. He tries to come off as cold and closed off so you won’t take an interest in him but he’s dying! He wants to talk to you too! He is probably one of the most social of his friends! He has a lot of friends and he loves talking and hanging with them.

Taehyung feels his eyes become wet with hot tears and he grits he teeth together in irritation. He wishes he was home with his friends, with his family, with the girl he likes. He misses everyone so bad. He knows the night you two were “kidnapped” was the last day of the year, meaning they started this experiment January 1. He recalls his last few nights before the island…it was his birthday.

“No! I want him to open my present first!” Jimin whines and Taehyung can’t help the wide grin that adorns his face.

They’re all out at a bar, the music is loud and the alcohol is nonstop. Taehyung is surrounded by his closest friends, plus Hana—the girl Taehyung has been crushing on for the last year. She brought along a couple of her friends to this night out of celebration.

“He can open whoever’s he wants first…which is mine, right?” Jungkook hands Taehyung a box and Taehyung chuckles.

“Just for that, your two are going last.” Taehyung says, “How about I open Namjoon’s first since he planned this night?”

Namjoon gives the other two boys a cocky grin as he hands Taehyung a bag.

“Can I go after Namjoon?” Hana’s sweet voice is heard over the blaring music. She looks absolutely gorgeous tonight, her pink dress doing her a million favors. Not that she needs the favors, she’s always gorgeous.

“Y-Yeah.” Taehyung blushes, “But you didn’t have to get me anything…”

“Really? You practically yelled at us when you thought we weren’t getting you anything.” Jimin playfully comments.

“Shut up dude.” Taehyung grits out, “Anyway, let’s see what Joonie got me.”

The night went on, the music got louder, the alcohol kept on coming. Taehyung is so happy. Everything is perfect. He doesn’t think anything can ruin his good mood.

“Want to dance with me?” Hana’s words leave her pretty, pink lips and Taehyung finds himself nodding yes before he can even register what she said. He would literally do anything she wanted.

“Then come.” She waves him over with her small, manicured hand.

Hana and Taehyung end up on the dance floor for quite some time…he’s too drunk to be nervous like he usually is. His large hands grip at her tiny waist as he brings her in closer, she lightly moans when she feels his hard body against her.

“We should talk.” Hana breathes out, “About us.”

Taehyung’s eyes go wide, panic starting to make its way into his body.

“What about us?”

Hana chuckles lightly, she goes on her tip toes and places a soft, sweet kiss against Taehyung’s lips.

“Nothing bad, I promise.” She takes his hand and leads him outside the bar, out to a little patio. Taehyung has a huge smile on his face as he follows her outside…it’s not the first time they’ve kissed but he still can’t get used to it.

“You like me right?” she asks, pointing to herself. She’s got that sweet smile and Taehyung feels his nerves spiking.

“Yes.” He finally breathes out.

“Good. Because I like you too.” She admits, she closes her eyes for a moment, Taehyung spots the golden eye shadow that is painted over her lids. She opens her eyes again and he spots a sadness in them.

“But…” she begins and Taehyung feels his smile fade.

“But what?”

“No…it’s nothing.” She clears her throat, “You should take me on a date. And soon.” She giggles. Taehyung feels his smile grow and he nods his head.

“I would love to. We can—”

“Hey Tae!” Hobi’s voice cuts him off, “Yoongi says he just got off work and is on his way!!” He cheers happily. Taehyung turns to face Hobi and gives him a thumbs up before he’s spinning back around to Hana.

“Let’s go inside. We can discuss more on our date.” She smiles, taking his hand again.

“Sure.” Taehyung grins, his stomach doing a million flips. “Let’s go!”

Taehyung feels a few tears escape his closed eye lids as he sits in the sand. It’s too early to be in this state, Taehyung thinks. But alas, he can’t help it. He misses his life. This island put his life on complete hold. What if he’s stuck here for a year? Would Hana wait for him? It’s not like he’s expecting her to…but he thinks he would wait for her.

He stands to his feet, wiping his face of any leftover tears and he begins working for the day. He finds new trees with branches that would be easy to cut down and he resumes his little project. Hours and Hours go by and Taehyung is sitting on the beach’s sand and staring out at the water. He’s tired, he’s sweaty and he’s hungry.

Taehyung starts making his way back to the house now that the sun is setting. It’s pretty orange glow sets a relaxing mood and Taehyung feels grateful. He walks up to the side door that leads to the kitchen and watches you from the window. You look calm as usual and he feels himself feeling frustrated all over again…how are you so calm? He was having a meltdown on the beach earlier and here you are cooking dinner with a small smile on your face. He doesn’t understand you. Does this whole situation not bother you? No…he knows it has to bother you but how are you able to be so relaxed about it?

He opens the door and walks inside, startling you. You bring a hand to your heart when you see him but then visibly relax after a moment or two.

“You scared me.”

“Sorry.” He mumbles lamely. And then he’s walking up the stairs leaving you to your lonesome.

~~~~~

Month: 1

It’s been a month. A whole month! It seems Taehyung has gotten even more distant with you…no major interactions since you two had breakfast together. He keeps his comments to you brief in passing and he barely makes eye contact. You’re fed up. You’re lonely. You need interaction and you can’t always cater to him! He can suck it up for once and do what you want.

Feeling brave, you give yourself a pep talk in your bathroom mirror. That’s right, you are going to just go for it! You are going to demand that he hang out with you. You fix your hair in the mirror and nod to yourself. Yeah, you got this. You exit your room and stroll down the hall to his bedroom, once you are standing in front of it you lean your head against the door, your ear lying flat against it as you try to listen for him. The room sounds pretty quiet…maybe he’s sleeping? No, no. You’re just trying to find an excuse not to do this, aren’t you? Ugh, pathetic.

You raise your fist up and begin knocking on his door. You’re left with silence…you’re being ignored. So you knock again. And again. And ag—

“What?!” Taehyung swings open the door, revealing that he was indeed maybe sleeping. His hair is doing that funny thing where it sticks out in every direction and his eyes are barely open.

“This better be important.” He huffs out.

Suddenly, you feel a wave of shyness wash over you. You feel kind of bad you interrupted his nap…but you got to stay strong.

“Please hang out with me.” You blurt out.

“Huh?” Taehyung looks at you as if you’re crazy. “Not happening.” He quickly says.

“Just play a game with me, or maybe we could watch that movie…”

“I don’t want to do anything with you.” He raises his voice just the slightest and you flinch.

“Yeah? You think I want to do things with you? Like you specifically? Hell no! But I just want to do something damn it!” you flail your arms up, and breathe out heavily. “I am so fucking tired of always being by myself, it’s literally driving me insane.” You admit, you look off to the side as tears threaten to wet your eyes. “I am alone every single day. It has been a month, Taehyung? Did you know that? You’ve left me lonely for an entire month! I am going fucking crazy!” you bring your hands to your hips, “I have tried learning to cook all these god damn recipes as a way to distract myself but dude, I don’t even like cooking. I read all day too…I have all these imaginary book friends and that’s where I meet my social needs, isn’t that insane? Oh my god, I am going insane. And you?! How are you okay?!”

Taehyung is left speechless at your rant. He realizes that this loneliness is really getting to you…he admits he isn’t much better. But he kind of likes that you’re beginning to spiral. Is that mean?

“W-What game?” he juts out his bottom lip as his eyes slide to the side.

You stare at him with wide eyes as your chest heaves. You screw your eyes closed, and bring a hand to your head.

“What game?” you open your eyes to look at him, “That’s all you have to say?”

“What game y/n?”

You glare at him, huffing out deep breaths trying to calm yourself.

“Mortal Kombat.” You spit out, “I really want to kick your ass.”

Your fingers work the buttons on the controller as you test out every god damn combo you can…and damn it is working because you are on fire.

“You could have warned me that you actually know how to play…” Taehyung pouts.

“You should have just taken my word for it, you loser.” You continue to kick his ass in the game, you are pretty good at pretending his character is actually him.

“One more game, y/n.” Taehyung begs, “I will beat you!”

“You haven’t won even one match, Taehyung. Just admit you suck.” You chuckle darkly.

You press a few more buttons until you see the word ‘Fatality’ grace your screen, you stand up in excitement yelling out your victory, you laugh like a god damn maniac and he can’t help but chuckle. Taehyung throws his controller to the ground and pouts dramatically.

“I know what will make you feel better.” You turn to face him, calming down.

“Nothing will heal this wound, y/n.” He states, throwing the sofa’s designated blanket over his body.

“How about we watch that movie you like so much?” you offer with a smile but Taehyung goes stiff at your question.

“I think we should just call it for the day…” he looks awkwardly to the side and you slump your shoulders.

“Oh…okay.”

“Listen…it’s not you—”

“Just stop.” You hold your hand up, “You want nothing to do with me, I get it.”

“y/n…” Taehyung looks down at his hands…he does feel bad. It’s not like he didn’t have fun with you just now. He just wishes this was all different.

“I’ll be in my room—”

“Teach me how to make one of the recipes you learned.” He cuts in.

“What?” you ask, completely off guard. “What?” you repeat.

“I said,” Taehyung breathes out, “Teach me how to make one of the recipes you learned.” He’s not just trying to be nice…he’s also, you know, hungry.

You hate yourself because you light up like the sun almost immediately. You wish you were strong and you could tell him to fuck off but instead you become the god damn sun from how brightly you shine.

“Really?” you ask with the most hopeful eyes.

“Yeah.” Taehyung laughs, “Really.”

“You mean…you want to actually spend time with me?” you ask bluntly.

“I guess you can put it that way if it makes you feel better.” Taehyung rolls his eyes, but it’s in that playful way you only ever get to see so often.

“It does make me feel better actually.”

“Well, then.” He stands up and motions his hand towards the kitchen. “Shall we?”

“Are you going to be annoying the whole time?” you ask, “Or will you be serious about learning?”

“God, woman.” He rolls his eyes again. “I hope I annoy the shit out of you.”

“Oh, you already do.” You gesture for him to go to the kitchen first.

“You haven’t seen anything yet.”

“Somehow I believe you.” This time it’s your turn for the dramatic eye roll. “Now come on.”

“Oh my god. You aren’t even listening!” you yell out over Taehyung’s nonstop humming and whistling.

“I truly believe cooking is like an art, you know?” he continues to whistle some made up tune, “These instructions are like…a guide but you can kind of do what you…” he makes a fist with his hand and shakes it in front of his face. “… you want.” He finishes. “Yeah, these are more like suggestions.”

“Can we please just follow the directions.” You deadpan. “I want this to taste the way it’s supposed to!”

“You’re no fun.” Taehyung says nonchalantly. “Cooking should be fun.”

“Cooking is so we can eat.”

“These dumplings are going to taste fine, y/n.” He assures you with a grin.

“You say that but…” you look at his pile of failed dumplings. “But…” you show him with your hand the absolute mess he’s made.

“Your point?” He raises a single brow and you scoff. There’s no way he is serious, absolutely no way.

You notice Taehyung is staring at you, his eyes look everywhere but your eyes and you start to feel nervous under his gaze. He has one of those dark, intense gazes that you just can’t shake off your mind.

“What?” you finally ask. “Something on my face?” you joke.

“Actually, yes.” He blurts out. “So much flour.”

“Oh.” You start to turn red with embarrassment, “Where? Here?” you point to various spots on your face with a towel and he just shakes his head.

“No, there.” He points but you still miss it.

“Just clean it off me!”

“You want me to touch you?”

“Yes, please touch me.” Then your eyes expand in size. “Wait, that sounds wrong.”

“You have a dirty mind, y/n.” Taehyung shakes his head again, “You’re just all kinds of dirty.”

“Oh my god, stop.” You look at him with your flustered as hell face, your face is probably redder than ever and it feels so fucking hot.

“Here.” Taehyung grabs the towel from your hands and begins wiping your face clean. “Your face isn’t dirty anymore.” He pulls his hand back, “But your mind still is, huh?”

“Will you just shut up?”

“Will you just shut up?” he mocks how you usually would and you roll your eyes. Hard.

“Doesn’t feel good does it?” He teases, “Getting a taste of your own medicine.”

“Can we please just focus on this recipe?”

“Fine.” He breathes out, “Except I will ignore this recipe completely and do what I think my ancestors want me to do. They whisper in my ear that these need more garlic.”

“You are so annoying.”

“You are so annoying.”

“Okay, I get it, Taehyung.”

You reach behind you and untie your apron and place it on its hook by the pantry. You walk over to the dining room table and take a seat.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Taehyung quirks a brow as you rest your head on the table.

“Resting. Letting you do all the work. You can cook from now on. I give up.”

Taehyung shakes his pointer finger at you and walks your way.

“Oh no, no, no.” he grabs on to your arm and begins dragging you up. “This was your idea so we are cooking together.”

“Uh, actually this was your idea.”

“Oh.” Taehyung’s mouth hangs open as he realizes how true that is. “Not one of my better ideas…” he admits.

“Oh? Do you usually have good ideas?” You make your snarky comment and Taehyung let’s go of your arm.

“Usually the best.” He says, a cocky smile making its way on his stupidly handsome face.

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“Well, you don’t know me.”

“Oh? And whose fault is that?” You jab at him and he visibly deflates.

“You know 3 things about me actually.” He gives you a half smile.

“All I remember is that you’re almost 5’11.”

“Well, that one was the most important. So your head is in the right place.”

Taehyung doesn’t realize it because you didn’t say anything but his face is full of flour as well. You stare up at him and start to laugh. Taehyung looks at you, confused. An adorable pout forms on his lips as he begs you to tell him what’s so funny.

“Your face.” You point at him and his fingers go to touch his skin.

“Clean me.” He commands. “I cleaned you, it’s only fair.” He points out.

You nod your head and walk towards the counter to grab the towel, Taehyung follows closely behind you. You turn around quickly and your chest bumps into his.

“Oh sorry.” He says while scratching the back of his neck, “I got too close.”

You nod lamely, but neither of you step back. Maybe expecting the other to do it? You decide to ignore that and you reach up to clean his face. He has flour everywhere. No joke. This dude is messy. You kind of laugh as you wipe his face clean, he can’t help but laugh too. His breath mingling with yours as you two giggle.

“We are kind of a mess.” He admits, his tone is soft—almost shy. You slow down the patting on his skin and you gaze into his eyes for a moment. They’re dark. They’re powerful. You feel yourself getting lost in the moment when Taehyung clears his throat and you bring your hand back down.

“There.” You say, “All done.”

“Should we finish cooking?” Taehyung grins down at you.

“I don’t know, what do your ancestors say?”

“They say you’re a smart ass.”

~~~~~~

“Do you think we could…we could do this again?” You and Taehyung are standing outside your bedroom door. Why did Taehyung walk you all the way to your door? The world may never know.

“Do what exactly?” he asks as he sways back and forth in front of you

“Play a game…or cook dinner…or you know just hang out.”

“Maybe… once a week we can play a game or watch a movie or something…” he gets out awkwardly.

“Wow, you’ll grace me with your presence once a week?” you roll your eyes, “How generous of you.”

“Listen…” Taehyung looks at you more seriously, “I know social contact is important for like, our mental health or whatever. But we shouldn’t push it.”

“You’re so…”

“I’m so what?” Taehyung steps forward and you gulp.

“So unfair.” You whisper. Taehyung bows his head down, he feels like he is shrinking. Because you’re right, he is being totally unfair. But he thinks this is the right move, the smart move.

“Y/n…” he sighs, “I’m doing this so we can leave.”

“And what if your little strategy isn’t working? It’s been a month Taehyung.” You point out, “And we’re still here.”

“I know, I know. Jesus, woman.” He breathes out, his dark eyes finding yours. “Look, they will get bored with us.”

“How can you be so sure?” you step forward. “What if we aren’t boring to them?” you whisper, your eyes staying on his.

“That’s why we should interact as little as possible.”

“Taehyung. No offense. But do you really think I want to interact with you?” you spit out, “I just need something, anything. I just need someone.” You step closer, “And you happen to be the only person here.”

Taehyung’s brows pinch together as he looks down at you, a frown decorating his face. He…he doesn’t want to be hurt by that.

“Once a week y/n. That’s all I can offer you.” He steps closer to you, his feet bumping into yours, “Don’t get greedy on me.”

You tilt your head up and chuckle,

“I told you I’m greedy though.” Your eyes stay on his, his piercing gaze causing you to shudder but you don’t break contact and neither does he. He’s challenging you, you can feel it. His eyes begin to narrow as he stares down at you, you wonder what he is thinking. He sighs out, his breath hitting your face and you blink up at him. You’re about to say something, anything when his tongue darts out to wet his lips. You mean to keep your eyes on his eyes, you really do but you don’t. You hate yourself for dropping your gaze down to his lips. He smirks as realization hits him.

“Goodnight y/n.” He says, his voice so deep and low it catches you off guard. Then he’s stepping away from you and heading towards his room, leaving you at your door. You release the longest, shakiest breath as you watch him disappear.

You open the door to your bedroom and walk inside, you wish you could yell out in frustration. You wish you could scream into your pillow and know for sure he can’t hear you. You wish you weren’t here.

You change into some sleep clothes and slide into bed. You pull the blanket up to your nose and kick your legs dramatically. This guy is so annoying! Why can’t he just not care and live life normally so you can be normal too! Listen, you aren’t fucking thrilled about this either. But you’re handling it a lot better than he is. Why is that…? Why are you handling this so well? Maybe it’s because your real life is a fucking mess and this truly is the vacation you needed. You know, you know how pathetic that sounds.

You close your eyes and try to sleep but memories of your real life keep hitting you. You hate this. You hate all of this. You’re lonely. You’re all alone. In this this life on the island but also in your real life. You’re so fucking alone. You feel tears prick your eyes and you let yourself quietly sob for who knows how long. You wish you had someone to lean on…just in general. But you lost all of your friends at work…you lost your boyfriend…you only have your parents and even they are fed up with you.

After crying tears after tears you decide you’re thirsty. You tip toe out of bed and make your way downstairs…the house is so quiet and dark. It’s relaxing and also depressing. You finally make it to the kitchen when you scream bloody murder. Sitting in the dark at the dining room table is Taehyung.

“Wow, y/n. It’s not next week yet.” He jokes. You quickly turn on the dining room light and look at him like he’s insane.

“You fucking scared me!” you exclaim loudly, “And why are you awake?”

“I have trouble sleeping…” he admits, he scratches the back of his neck and gives you a sheepish grin. “What about you?”

You step closer to the table and Taehyung’s eyes slightly expand. He notices your swollen eyes and puffy lips. Had you been crying?

“Hey…are you okay?” he whispers out, standing from his chair.

“Don’t act like you care so suddenly.” Your eyes slide to the side, “I’m fine.”

Taehyung looks down, guilt burying itself into his body. He looks up at you and tries to speak but he doesn’t know what to say.

“I just came down for some water.” You tell him. “That’s all.” You walk over to the fridge for the pitcher of cold water then you walk to the cabinet and try to grab a glass from the top shelf but you struggle. You huff out and close your eyes in frustration when you feel Taehyung’s chest on your back.

“I’ll grab it for you.” He says softly. He reaches for a glass and hands it to you, you take it from him and offer him a small thanks.

“See? That’s something only people who are almost 5’11 could do.” He teases and you look at him with a serious expression. You look down at your feet and sigh out before you let a giggle slip between your lips.

“Goodnight Taehyung.” You look up to study his face, and you see his smile fade.

“What?” you ask.

“Once a day.” He says. “We can hang out once a day. But that’s it.”

You feel your heart do something funny…you feel your tummy doing something weird too. You feel your entire chest get hit with a wave of….something.

“It’s fine, Taehyung.” You finally say after a quiet moment, “I don’t want to push you.”

“This isn’t for you.” He smiles, “I think I need the social contact too.”

“Well, no fucking duh.” You state with the roll of your eyes. “We can’t isolate ourselves…it’s so unhealthy.”

“I get it.” He breathes out, “So, I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“And every day after that until we’re out of this place.”

~~~~~~~~

The next couple of days you and Taehyung play some games or watch a movie together, just doing at least one activity a day. Just like he said you two would. Admittingly you do feel better about this arrangement. Not talking at all was a pain in the ass and terribly lonely. Sometimes Taehyung will come to the living room and play a game by himself while you read, just sharing a space without really talking, even after he did his one activity with you. You hate to admit how much you like that he does that.

It’s not like you want to get to know him specifically…but you would like to sort of know the person you are living with…that makes sense, right? It’s not him! It’s just that he’s the only person here…and you want a friend. Yes, you can admit you want a friend. You aren’t going to fall in love with the dude…you just want someone to talk to and hang out with. God, is that such a crime? Plus, you’re in no place for love. If the company truly knows you, with their “research” and all then they should know you are not ready for any type of romantic relationship.

You lay here on the couch, your legs hung over the arm of it while you stare up at the ceiling. It’s hot out today and this house happens to come with a lovely pool. The ocean is scary so no beach for you…but pool? Yes. You lay here, wondering what Taehyung is up to. He went out again today like he usually does, you wonder if you can ask him about it now…now that you guys aren’t on total terrible terms. Nah, you will wait a little longer before you ask. Instead, you rise from the sofa and head upstairs to change into a swim suit.

You have a lot of options, to be honest. This place did not lack on the clothing items! You decide on a simple dark green bikini, you try it on and decide you like the way it looks. A lot actually. Have you lost some weight? You guess the lack of fast food options has made you a little slimmer, and the amount of fresh food that’s available here. Plus you started lightly working out in the home gym, sweating a storm.

You head back downstairs and go to the back where the absolutely lovely porch is located…it’s a whole wooden deck. With a glamorous pool in the center and a hot tub off to the side. You wish you really lived in a place like this—not here, specifically. (For obvious reasons) You shrug off the towel that’s wrapped protectively over your body and make your way to the pool. You don’t know what you’re being self-conscious for…Taehyung doesn’t usually come back until sunset and it’s barely the afternoon.

You dip your toes in the water first…it’s pretty chilly but you handle it, dipping your body further and further into the water. You shiver just a bit before dunking your head underneath, letting the water consume you. You stay underwater, opening your eyes and staring at the blue nothingness.

“I love you.” He says for the first time, making you float on air. You knew he was going to say it soon, you could feel it but you were not expecting it here.

You two are sitting at Cozy Coffee, your favorite place to relax and read and write. You are in the middle of writing a very intriguing sentence when your fingers stop typing in reaction to his confession.

“You what?” you ask, a small smile adorning your face. “You love me?”

“Yes.” He reaches for your hand across the table, “But you already knew that, didn’t you?”

“I had a feeling.” You tease. “But I…”

“You don’t have to say it yet if you aren’t ready,” he squeezes your hand, “I can wait.”

“No!” you squeeze his hand back, “I…love you too.” You admit softly.

He brings his hand back, folding his hands together out in front of him and sighs out, his breaths escaping him softly.

“These past 6 months with you y/n…” he begins, “Have been the most wonderful.”

“They have been pretty nice, haven’t they?” you smirk. “Tell me your favorite part?”

“Any part where you’re naked, for sure.” He laughs and you gasp.

“Hey! Behave.” You warn with a smile and he keeps laughing.

“I’m serious, this is the best relationship I have ever had. You’re definitely the best girlfriend…all these other girls have been crazy.”

You frown at that, “Why crazy?”

“Ugh, you know how women can get.”

You don’t like the way he said that, you feel your smile twist into another frown.

“What do you mean?”

“It doesn’t matter. Because you aren’t like that. You’re different.”

You smile again, once again feeling special with his praise.

“Different how?”

“Jeez, you ask a lot of questions.” He half jokes. “I don’t know, you just are.”

The water is starting to sting your eyes as you continue to hold your breath, memories flooding you. This water isn’t the only thing trying to drown you. You finally squeeze your eyes shut and swim up to the surface, gasping for air once you reach it. You breathe out heavily as you try to catch a breath, your wet hair dripping down your just as wet face. You swim to the edge of the pool and lift yourself up on the ledge and sit with your legs still in the water.

Why do you have to think of him?

After an hour or so that passes and plenty of sun later you decide you’ve had enough of the day outside. You stand to your feet and grab your towel and dry off, draping the towel over your right arm. You’re still pretty wet you admit, but nothing crazy. You head for the house, walking through the back door. Once you enter the house the cool AC hits you, causing you to shiver but you decide a warm shower will solve this. You turn the corner in the hall to head upstairs when your body slams into another body. You run into Taehyung hard causing you to tumble over and fall on top of him.

Taehyung yelps out when he makes contact with you, his body falling to the hard tiled floor and he winces. You fall on top of him, your chest smooshing his face. Yeah, your boobs in his face. That’s what that fucking means. Your wet boobs in his sweaty face.

“What the hell?” Taehyung mumbles between your breasts, “Get off me.”

You’re quick to try to scramble off his body, your hands landing in all the wrong places as you try to lift yourself. He groans loudly when you make contact with his lower hips and his hands go to grab your wrists trying to stop you from moving around so much.

“Chill, chill.” He breathes out slowly, still holding on to your wrists. He makes his way out from beneath you and pulls you up by the wrists.

“I wasn’t this sweaty before you ran into me…” Taehyung observes, “How wet are you?”

“I wasn’t this wet until running into you. How fucking sweaty are you?!”

“Fair.” Taehyung says with a smirk, then he’s blinking at you. “You went swimming today?” he eyes you up and down and you immediately feel insecure under his intense gaze.

“Uh, yeah.” You take the towel that’s draped around your arm and go to cover yourself with it.

“Why are you getting shy now?” as sly smile draws itself on Taehyung’s face. “You didn’t seem this shy just a moment ago with your tits in my face?” he questions with a low voice.

“Oh my god, can we not bring that up?” you begin to blush and you hate yourself for it.

“Why not?”

“It was an accident first of all. There will never be a time again where my boobs are in your face.”

“Oh you’re making the company sad.” Taehyung pouts.

“Shut up.” You roll your eyes and Taehyung laughs. His laughter dies down though when he shamelessly eyes you again.

“Green is my favorite color.” He says while walking past you and heading upstairs.

You stand here, embarrassed as fucking usual. Your whole body warming up and you don’t even feel that cold AC any longer. You breathe in and breathe out. Taehyung is not making this stay very easy, is he?

~~~~~~

Month: 2

“Don’t you use that blue shell!” You scream at the air around you, your eyes concentrating on the screen ahead.

Taehyung smirks, working his fingers on the controller. God, he can really move his fingers. Wait, why the hell would you think that?

“Don’t tell me what to do!”

You are both totally immersed in your game, the finish line in sight. You jump to your feet in rushed excitement as the finish line is soon approaching. You need this win to tie with him on your ongoing competition in Mario Kart. You’re both oh so close, the anticipation rising. Like, honestly you might shit yourself. Taehyung also leaps to his feet, joining you at your side. Now you are both screaming at the screen, your throats will totally pay for this later. You are jumping up and down, yelling at one another , slamming your fingers on the controllers, harshly pressing down on the accelerator button. You can see it. Its literally right in front of you! AND you are ahead of him! The finish line! Your screams getting louder and louder…when…you are graced with a black screen.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” You yell in unison.

You turn to face Taehyung, the one you hate the most right now. Your eyes dark and your voice low.

“What did you do?”

“ME? I didn’t do anything!” He says accusingly.

“You must have! You knew I was going to win—”

“First of all, we don’t know that.” He cuts you off all matter of fact. So annoying.

You look at him incredulously.

“THAT’S IT! I’m going to strangle you!” Before you can take a step towards him to you know, kill him, the screen turns a bright white, catching your attention. Lucky dude. Your focus now on the screen, you look at it with your head tilted to the side. There are black letters at the top of the screen and you decide to read out loud whatever this caption says.

“Re…Request?” your eyes scan the word slowly. “Oh. Oh shit,” Your eyes go wide, you turn to face Taehyung, his expression mirroring your own. You had completely, like completely forgot about the ‘Requests’. It has been a couple months of silence so how could you not forget? You wonder if this company is finally ready to move …this…along. Whatever this is.

Only seconds pass before more black words appear on the screen. Your eyes stay on Taehyung though, too nervous to read what comes next.

Taehyung must realize you have no intention on reading anymore because he exhales deeply and faces the screen.

“Okay, here goes…” he begins, “The two subjects must…”

[softboywriting]

Delicate | Billy Russo

Summary: Billy takes you on a surprise weekend trip and is forced to face some truths about himself. [Fluff] [Alternate Timeline - Castle Family Alive] [Billy Russo x F!Reader] [Assistant!Reader Trope] 

Word Count: 4.4k

|Masterlist In Bio|

A/N: This is in the same universe as my fic Little Moments and Meet The Parents but can be read separately as a stand alone story. I may be doing several in a series with these two.

___

"I want to take you somewhere." Billy says walking into your shared office near closing time. He's got on a pair of jeans, a sweater and his boots. Not quite the usual work attire but you love his casual wear.

"A date?"

"No. More of a long weekend trip."

You raise your eyebrows and push away from your desk. A weekend trip is a big surprise. Not that you have plans or anything. "Where to?"

"England."

"England?!" You splutter. "That is not a weekend trip Billy!"

Billy gathers your jacket and purse from the hooks behind the door. "It is. The flight leaves in about two hours."

"Billy! I haven't packed a single thing, I-I'm not ready!" You take your items from him and run a hand through your hair. Weekend trips are like in-state or nearby. They're a night at a hotel and seeing a museum for two days or something. Not flying to England and doing Gods know what.

"You cannot be serious."

He wraps his arm around your shoulders. "I am serious. I've got your stuff packed. Don't worry."

"What did you pack me?"

"Clothes. Trust me, I know what you wear."

"Why the surprise? Why not tell me sooner?"

Billy chuckles. "Don't worry about it. You'll like it."

"Where are we even going?" You sigh as he walks with you out of the office and down the steps to the main floor. "London or Wales? Are we going for business or pleasure?"

"We're going to Devon."

"Where the fuck is that?"

"England."

You smack his back and he laughs. "You son of a bitch. Why?"

"Pleasure."

"Ugh why now though? Why not later?"

Billy opens the passenger door to his car as you approach it. He leans on the roof, gesturing you inside. "C'mon the airport is almost half an hour drive, and we gotta stop at the apartment for our stuff."

You sink down in the passenger seat and glare up at him suspiciously. He's being like this on purpose. You hate not knowing what is going on and he knows it. The last thing you expected to do after work was to be hurried onto a plane that is no doubt a multi-hour flight. But here you are and there he is, staring down at you.

"Get in? I'm not the one wasting time now."

"God you're beautiful." He leans in and kisses your cheek quickly. "And I know you're pissed." He closes the door and walks around to get in the driver's seat. "I promise it will be worth it."

You lean your head back and close your eyes as he drives out of the lot. "It better be. This is very spontaneous and off my usual rhythm."

"I know. But you'll love it. I know you will."

"Mmm." You turn on the seat warmer and relax into the lush comfort. "You're also lucky I love you, and trust you."

Billy chuckles as his hand finds yours, thumb stroking the tops of your fingers.

"I wouldn't let anyone else pack me a bag, let alone take me to a foreign country for a weekend." You scoff. "That sounds so wildly pretentious."

"It's alright. It is a little pretentious, but we've earned it."

"You've earned it."

"Hey." He squeezes your hand and you open your eyes to look at him. "This company is just as much yours as mine."

"Bullshit. It is not. My name isn't on the lease, it's not on the LLC, I'm just your assistant and girlfriend."

Billy scoffs and turns the car into the parking garage of his apartment complex. He lives close to Anvil, honestly you don't actually need to drive. He just likes to show off his car. It gets dark as you enter the garage but you can tell he's not having any of your shit.

"When I marry you, your name will be on all of that."

"What?"

"What?"

"When you marry me?" You swallow hard as he stops the car in a space. It's only been a about six months that you've officially been an item. A little quick to be thinking about marriage.

Billy kills the engine and pockets his keys. "Yeah, when." He opens the door so nonchalantly, like he hasn't just thrown you for a loop. He walks around and opens your door. "C'mon, up and attem sweetheart."

"You're joking right?"

"About what? Marrying you one day?" He puts his hand on your back as you head to the elevator. "You're absolutely going to be a Russo. No doubt about it."

"I don't have a choice then?"

"Of course you have a choice." He presses the button to the penthouse and puts in the security key to make it go. "You can say no."

"Are you asking me right now?" You laugh and he turns, hands on your hips as he walks you into the wall, eyes locked on yours. "W-what's this about?"

Billy licks his lip and sets his jaw. It's not anger. He's making a decision in that brain of his. Is he asking? Is he teasing?

"You'll know when I ask."

"It's only been a few months. Don't rush."

"When you know you know right?"

"Billy, c'mon." You give him a look. "Using Frank's lines now?"

Billy steps aways, hands falling from your body and he runs a hand over his hair. "Sometimes that asshole is right about things."

You chuckle. "Sometimes."

"Enough about that. We have a plane to catch." The elevator dings and the doors open to the short hall before his penthouse. "Get your pretty ass changed and let's go."

"So pushy." You giggle and he shoves your shoulder. "Hey!"

"I'm pushy." He pushes again and you stumble into the door before he pins you against it. "You're so lucky we don't have time to mess around."

"Lucky?" You wiggle your ass against his waist. "Or unfortunate. Because any chance I miss to have-"

His hand comes up along your throat and you groan, tilting your head back. "Keep talking and I'm gonna make time."

"Or maybe we'd miss the flight."

"Little shit." He drops the hand on your throat and swats your ass before unlocking the door and ushering you inside. "Go change. Now."

"Okay, okay, good grief."

"We'll just join the mile high club." He calls out as you head to the bedroom to change. "I've always wanted to see how we'd fit in a tiny bathroom!"

"Those things are filthy! No!"

"Then you can ride me in the seat in first class!"

You pop your head around the door and he is grinning, leaning against the kitchen island. You narrow your eyes and he just raises his eyebrows. "Not happening."

"We'll see sweetheart."

"Whatever."

"Mmm. I'm very persuasive."

You roll your eyes and go back to changing clothes. If he thinks you're gonna do the dirty on an airplane he has a world of disappointment coming.

_________________

Billy always gets his way it would seem. Because less than half an hour ago you were on his lap, bouncing on his dick while he grinned oh so smugly. The flight was less than full for the first class seating, your nearest neighbor was across the aisle and six sections back. There were dividers between the seats, privacy walls. That's what really ended up convincing you in the end.

All that and you maybe sort of got off to the thought of being semi public about the whole ordeal. A kink you didn't know you had until Billy was whispering filth in your ear and making you squirm.

"How much longer?" You ask, curling into your seat and yawning.

"Three more hours. We'll land in Exeter."

"Seven hours to a spontaneous weekend? This is insane. When we arrive it's going to be dark. I assume you have a place for us to stay?"

Billy rolls his eyes. "Of course I do. We're not camping out in a train station."

"Oh fuck you."

"Get some sleep."

"I'd love to but I don't sleep well on planes."

"You fuck well on 'em."

"Billy!" You kick his leg and he grins. "Shut up!"

Billy puts his hand out and you take it. "We can go another round to kill the time."

You grab the complimentary earbuds in a little package and rip them open to stuff them in your ears. "Can't hear you."

"Bullshit."

"What?" You smirk, gesturing to the earbuds. "Can't hear ya."

Billy leans in and your eyes lock with his. "Maybe I should raise my voice then. And ask if YOU WANT TO F-"

You slam your hand against his mouth and he grins behind your palm. "Son of a bitch."

"You know I am." He licks your palm and sits back in his seat. He side eyes you, gauging your reaction to his childish move while nonchalantly opening a travel guide pamphlet.

You wipe your hand on his thigh and he chuckles. Whatever awaits in Devon in three or four hours better be good because he is really dancing on your last nerve. What has got him so wound up, you have no idea.

____________________

Devon is... breathtaking. It's the English country side on the ocean. The town you drove through was all cobblestone homes and shops and it looked like a fairytale honestly. Places like this didn't actually exist in your mind but here you are. It's so radically different than New York, even the country side of the state. You're stunned silent for the majority of the drive to your destination. Even in the evening it looks incredible.

Billy turns onto a road with a gate through a dense wooded area. The gate is open and he slides the rental car through carefully as not to scratch the sides on the narrow stone walls along the roadway. The path winds and winds until it opens up, the drive lined with a shorter stone wall as it leads to a large beautiful house.

"Where are we?"

Billy turns the car into the dirt and rock parking area in front of the door to the house. "We're in Dartmouth, just outside of it actually."

"Why? This place is beautiful, don't get me wrong. I'm just confused why we're here."

He looks over at you and brings your hand up to kiss. "I told you I was taking you on a weekend vacation."

"So you rented this house? Or does someone live here that we're staying with?"

"I bought it." He looks up at the door from beyond your window. "It's ours."

You turn and look at the house. "What? Billy you don't just buy a house! What on Earth is going through your head?!"

"What's going through my head is that I saw an opportunity and I took it. A friend of mine, Martin, had this place here after he got out of the Marines. His wife was English. Anyway, the family moved recently, and left everything behind because it is too expensive to haul across the ocean to Texas where they were relocating."

"So you bought a house with someone else's whole life inside?"

"Well, they took their personal belongings. It's furnished and decorated but we can change that."

You look over at Billy and lay a hand on his chest. "This is insane. Why would you buy a house in England?! What could you possibly want to do with it?"

"Live in it."

"Billy. Anvil is in New York. How do you propose to move here, bumfuck nowhere England, and run the company?"

Billy smiles and kisses your cheek. "Semantics. C'mon let's go see the house."

"Billy!"

He climbs out of the car and walks around to open your door. "It's beautiful, you're going to love it."

You step out with his hand in yours and he pulls out his keys to unlock the front door. As the door swings open you're hit with the smell of cinnamon, warm earthy spices, and vanilla.

"Come inside." Billy pulls you in gently. "It's incredible."

Inside is far more than incredible. It's like a dream, a home from some show book. The floors are dark natural wood, there are stairs with intricate banisters by the door, three archways to various rooms that are just the epitome of a country house. It's rustic, traditional like a farm house that's been updated to the modern century but kept it's charm. You feel like you're in a fairytale still, but it's real. It's so real and the house is so beautiful. You've never seen anything like it with your own eyes.

"Billy...this is...why?"

"You're very attached to that word y'know." He chuckles and rubs your shoulders. "Stop asking why and start enjoying."

"I will, I mean but- this is...I don't know what to say."

"Stunning right? So different than the penthouse or your apartment."

"Radically different."

"Come explore with me." He takes your hands and walks backwards leading you into a dining area.

You look around at the empty china hutch, shelves with various pots and pans for storage and decor, the huge wood table that looks like it was handmade by someone many years ago. "You're going to propose."

"What?"

"You're going to propose to me here aren't you?"

Billy laughs and steps close, cradling your face in his hands. "Maybe."

"Maybe?!"

"Yeah, maybe." He kisses you softly. "And maybe I just brought you here to get away from everything. Work, family, obligations. We can be us here. You and me, no one else."

"Billy we can be us at home, in the penthouse."

"I know, but this is a good place. The air is cleaner, life is simpler, everything is just easier here. We can unwind."

"You really bought this place?"

"Hundred percent. I've got a few payments still but it's almost paid off." He leans on a counter and you step between his legs. He gathers you close, hands on your sides. "It's got five bedrooms."

"Expansive."

"I think if...well..." He ducks his head in a chuckle, eyes refusing to meet yours. "If kids were ever, y'know, on the table. It'd be a good home."

"William Russo, you cannot be serious about that. You've thought of having kids? You?"

"No! No, fuck no. Maybe. I don't know." He pushes away from the counter and you'd stumble back as he walks into the enclosed patio off the side of the kitchen. "I'm just saying, it could accommodate kids."

You step down into the patio and look around. It's a simple screened in area, a sitting area and a terracotta chiminea sit on the right. "You'd have to marry me first."

"First?"

"Before I have a kid."

He laughs, leaning on the door to the outside area. "Of course."

"I thought you were afraid of having kids. Didn't want them to end up like you."

"Yeah well, I told myself a long time ago I'd never mess my kids up like I was messed up if I had them. I'd love 'em every day, make sure they know their dad loves them." His voice cracks and you cross the patio to lay a hand on his arm. "I won't have my kids wonderin' if their dad loves them. I won't."

"Hey, hey, you're not your parents okay?"

"I know. We'd be good, learning from our fucked up childhoods." He laughs joylessly and gathers you into his arms. "We'd have the happiest kid ever."

"We could. Maybe. One day."

"Lotta maybe's goin' on today." He bites his lip and puts his hand in yours. "It's late. We should go to bed."

"We've got a few days right? We can explore the house and grounds tomorrow."

"Absolutely."

You slide a hand over his jaw and pull him down for a kiss. "I do love this by the way. It's very romantic."

Billy smiles against your lips. "I'm not all hard edges and sharp wit." He kisses you slowly, pulling your lip between his teeth. "I do love you."

"I know." You bump your nose to his. "And I love you too."

_____________________

The sound of rain wakes you and you open your eyes to an unfamiliar room. It takes a moment to remember where you are. England. In a house Billy bought. Right. You rub your eyes and yawn big.

"You awake over there?" Billy asks, voice heavy and raspy with sleep.

"No."

"Yes you are." He reaches over under the blankets and wiggles his fingers up your side. "Little liar. How long you been awake?"

"Few moments."

"Mmm. It's raining. Can you hear it?"

"Yeah." You roll onto your back and Billy lifts his arm up so you can snuggle into his side. "It's nice."

Billy's hand finds your hair and twirls a piece between his fingers. "It rained the first time we met, remember?"

"It did?"

"Mmmhmm. The day you interviewed for the position at Anvil. It was pouring rain, I remember because when you came in you had on bright orange rainboots that you changed out of in the main room before coming up to do the interview."

You look up at him and his eyes are closed like he's picturing that day. "You saw that?"

"Of course I did. I see everything in Anvil."

"That's been so long ago, it seems like ages."

"Almost two years now."

"Crazy how things have changed."

Billy's hand leaves your hair and joins your hand on his chest. "Things will continue to change. Always."

You hum in agreement. He's right, logically, things will always change. But you feel he means more by that. "Billy, if you were to propose to me, how would you do it?"

"There is no fun in telling you."

"There is. It's healthy to discuss this in a relationship. So, how?"

Billy sits up a bit and you slide down his chest, face on his stomach. "Now, that's not fair. What about you? How would you propose to me?"

"I think, well, I think you're too smart. I think you'd figure it out before I could get it set up. I'd have to be blunt, slap a ring on the table and ask if you wanna do this."

He laughs, hand going to his chest as he struggles for words and air. "That is a hell of a proposal sweetheart!"

"You're a hell of a pain in the ass."

"Oh baby I know." He drops a quick kiss on your head. "I know. Now for me, I like to think I'd be a classic man. Dinner, dancing maybe. I'd get on one knee in a doorway somewhere and ask you, surprise you."

"You like to think? What's the reality look like then?"

"Reality is that you'd probably find the ring before I could plan something. You little snoop."

"Hey! You gave me free reign of the penthouse. No secrets."

"Yes yes. Alright, maybe I'd just surprise you. On a walk or something."

You rub over his chest and he hums. "I'd like that. But you don't wanna marry me yet. It's too soon."

"It's not too soon if you know."

"Yeah...let's get up. We have a house to explore." You sit up and he follows. "Maybe we can go into town for some breakfast too."

"Sounds like a plan."

______________________

The house is huge, well cared for, and beautifully designed. It's nothing like the apartments you grew up in your whole life. You never had a house, always dreamed of one. You like to think this one is exactly the summation of all those dreams. Like somehow Billy knew exactly what you wanted one day before you even knew yourself.

The gesture is lovely, the intent is good, but you cannot help but wonder why. Why now? Why this house? Why this place? Surely you shouldn't be one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but damnit you and Billy have just begun living together at his penthouse. You've not even settled the lease on your apartment. Now he's gone and bought a house in another country. It makes you worry, it makes you suspicious.

You don't want to push him. He has made it clear he doesn't want you to ask why, but to just accept it. That's not like you though. You can accept up to a point.

"Billy, I want to talk." You say as he sinks down in a chair beside the pool in the back area. You've gone out there post dinner for a swim after the rain.

Billy sets his phone on the side table and raises his eyebrows at you. "We've been talking all day sweetheart."

"I want to talk seriously. No antics, no sarcasm."

"Yeah, okay." He runs a hand over his hair. It's his nervous tick. A dead giveaway that he is truly listening to your words. "What's goin' on?"

You take a seat opposite him and take a deep breath. Where to begin. "Why did you buy this house?"

"I told you. Martin's family was moving and-"

"No." You say softly. "No, you didn't have to buy it from them. You chose to. Why?"

"I liked it."

"Okay. A house like this is a lot of money I presume. And yes, maybe the family gave you a discount or something, none the less it's a major expense for it to be a place you only come to now and again. What is the plan here?"

Billy chuckles and looks back at the house. "The plan is to live in it. Obviously. It's a house."

"Billy."

"What?"

You stare at him, lips pursed.

He looks away.

"We've only just moved in together, back home in New York. Do you plan on moving everything here? I'm just not understanding how this works Billy."

"Maybe someday we could move here. I suppose that's the end goal."

"You're thinking long term then? That I will surely be in your life for the rest of it?"

"I don't like where this is going." Billy's eyes harden and you know that look too well. "Don't do this."

"I'm not doing anything. I'm just saying that we're still very new into this relationship. It's been about six months, and a year of aqaintance-ship before that. I just feel like maybe you're making some very big moves and it's a bit much."

Billy leans back on the chair and closes his eyes. "I knew this was a bad idea."

"No, hey, no. I love this place, it's beautiful."

"I should have waited but I was just so excited about it."

"Honey."

"No, listen I don't know how to be in love. I've never been in love before, I'm sure of it." He looks over at you and you reach out and grab his hand. "I wanted to do this for you, to start putting things in motion because I don't want to lose you. I know that sounds so ridiculous, how does buying a house make you want to stay with me? I don't know honestly."

You squeeze his hand gently. "I'm not going anywhere I promise."

"I've never had something like this." He gestures to the house. "A stable home, a loving family. When we started dating, I knew I loved you. Hell. I blurted that shit out that night in my apartment. You had every right to be freaked out, to leave and quit Anvil. I was half shocked you didn't."

"I do love you Billy. The feeling was a hundred percent mutual. Don't doubt that."

"I don't. But I doubt myself all the time. Am I in love with you? Or do I have love for you? Over the last few months I've sorted out that I'm in love. I don't know how to be in love. I don't know what steps to take, how fast things should move. I can count on one hand the number of relationships I've had that were more than sex, and they obviously didn't end well. If the house is too much, we'll wait. I don't care if it's years, we'll wait to move here. Or if you don't want to then we don't have to."

"I'd like to, one day."

"I just-" his lip trembles. "I think I bought it because I wanted a better life for us. We both had messed up childhoods. I had a messed up early adult life in the military, did shit I didn't want to because I had to. This house is our chance to start over, to be new people."

Your eyes widen and he threads his fingers between yours on the hand you've been holding. "What about Anvil?"

"I can relocate. Or just...do something else. Anvil seemed like a great idea when I got out of the Marines. But now it's tethering me to my past." He brings your hand to his lips. "I want to be more than a dog of war. I want to be a normal guy with a wife and a kid or just a dog is fine too. I never pegged myself as one to want the white picket fence life but here we are."

You lay your hand on his cheek and he leans into it. "Three years. Give us three years together and if you still feel the same, and we're still together, we'll do it."

Billy leans in, bumping his nose with yours. "You drive a hard bargain."

"Learned from the best."

He smiles big, lips meeting yours for a quick kiss. "It's a deal. But I do still want to come here for vacations, long weekends and the like."

"Absolutely." You hold his face, his beard scratchy under your palms. "It'll be our private getaway."

"Mmhmm." He guides you up as he stands. "Now, time for the fun we actually came out here to indulge in."

You glance at the pool and he plucks at the sleeve of your tee. "It's our pool."

"Yes it is."

"It's very private." You giggle. "Not a neighbor for a few miles."

Billy lifts your shirt hem. "That's right."

You step back and pull your shirt off, pushing your pants down quickly. Billy quickly shucks his own and you both laugh at how ridiculous you look. You jump in and he follows suit.

"I've never skinny dipped before. It's so strange, like I shouldn't do it."

"It's freeing." Billy says, floating up to you and cradling your face. "Revel in it. Feel alive."

You press your lips to his. "I've felt alive since the day I met you."

"Me too." He presses your foreheads together. "Me too."

__________

end

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[whelvenwings]

who will fall beside you, if you fall

Dean Winchester's been loved in a lot of different ways throughout his life. He was shaped by that love, changed by the expectations and hopes and hurts of the people he cared about. He learned fear and silence and caution. But Castiel's confession, free of expectation, might undo those lessons.

Tags: Fix-It Fic, Endgame Castiel/Dean, Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Minor Lisa/Dean Snippet and Minor Cassie/Dean Snippet, John Winchester’s A+ Parenting, Fallen Angel Castiel Word Count: ~4k

“If you’re angry, you could just tell me,” Dean said. “God knows I’d get it.”

He glanced to his left and right before crossing a road, his eyes lingering on the faces nearest him, as though he were looking for someone.

“Cas, just talk to me.” The words were so quiet that no human but Dean himself heard them. He was still watching around him, waiting, but nothing happened.

He put his hands into his pockets again. Walked with his shoulders set a little lower.

“It’s not…” Dean muttered, a broken-off answer to a thought inside his head. “Just – I don’t know what you want me to do. Can you hear me thinking about you? ‘Cause it’s all the time, man. I don’t know what to do. Last time I saw you, you told me… but now you aren’t even…”

He rounded a corner and began to cross a small parking lot.

“If you’d just come here. You could tell me what I’m supposed to do. All I want is…” Dean’s eyes searched the backs of the cars he passed as if their number plates were esoteric texts with all the answers, all the things he needed to say. He breathed out. “I don’t know how, man, I don’t know what to do.”

Read the whole thing below the cut!

Dean was three years old and not quite steady on his feet, still, when his father took him outside to help shovel the snow. In his coat and hat he was a little duffled-up sweetheart, to whom nothing particularly bad had ever happened.

Red-cheeked and grinning, he left small bootprints in the snow.

“Come over here, Dean.” John stood behind Dean and lowered the shovel down to Dean’s height, so that they could hold it and move the snow together. Dean pressed his lips together and frowned as he followed his father’s movements. John’s coat smelled like smoke and the outdoors. They moved one, two, three, four, five big shovel-fulls.

“That’s enough for one day,” said a voice from the porch – Mary, smiling down at the two of them. John carefully lifted the shovel out of Dean’s reach, standing up to his full height. They’d managed to clear just a short stretch of the path that led up to the house.

“But Mom, there’s loads more!” Dean said, pointing to the rest of the pathway.

“Your dad can clear that. You need to come in and have some lunch,” Mary said. “Come on.”

Dean looked up to his father with wide eyes, but John put his hand on the top of Dean’s head and ruffled it so that his hat almost came off.

“Listen to your mom, Dean. In you go.”

Dean’s eyes travelled from his father’s face to his mother’s.

“There’s your favourite for dessert,” Mary said, coaxing him with a little smile.

“Yes!”

Dean made a sudden break for it towards her, running down the path he’d just helped to clear. After the crunch-crunch-crunch of the snow, the cleared pathway was hard under Dean's feet. Hard, and unexpectedly slippery.

“Whoa, there,” said John, as Dean felt his balance go, his feet skidding out from under him – and suddenly he was being lifted, one hand on either side of him. John pulled him up out of the fall, and set him back down in thick snow.

Dean blinked. It had all happened very fast.

“Next time,” John said, giving Dean a little push indoors, “I won’t catch you. You’ve got to learn, Dean.”

–––––

And now Dean was eleven years old and trailing after his father down a quiet midnight street, with a sleepy little brother in tow.

“Dad… are we nearly at the motel?”

“Nearly.”

He’d pay for that question later somehow, and Dean knew it, but because he’d asked there was a new purpose in John’s step. They didn’t stop at the liquor store that Dean knew John had been weighing going into. Walking past it, Dean felt a little break of relief in his chest. They’d get out of the cold sooner, and Sam could get to bed.

“Dean?”

Dean turned his head to look at his brother, keeping walking. Sam was wearing Dean’s coat, swimming in it, the hood pulled up and the elastic tight so only the round circle of his face was visible. It was nearly funny, but they hadn’t eaten since breakfast, and the humour was shaved off everything.

“Come on,” Dean said.

“I’m cold.”

“I know.” Dean cast a glance forwards at his father’s back. He lowered his voice. “It’s okay. Just a little bit longer.”

Sam made a miserable face. Their breaths were puffs of air between them. Underfoot was the hiss and crunch of melting, slushy snow.

“Can I have soup when we get there?”

“It’s late, Sammy. We’ll have something in the morning.”

“But I can’t sleep when I’m hungry…”

“Okay.” Dean cast another worried look towards his father, and then made a meaningful face at Sam when he looked back around. “I’ll find something. I think we have some of that apple juice left over.”

“That’s cold,” Sam said, but he’d quietened his voice, too. “And a drink.”

“You didn’t know?” Dean said, making sure his face was completely straight.

“Know what?”

“That’s the best part,” Dean said. “Cold drinks make you warm up faster.”

Sam narrowed his eyes, and Dean cursed internally. Every day Sam got a little smarter and a little harder to keep happy.

“That’s not true,” Sam said.

“It is,” Dean promised. “You’ll see.” He thought for a few seconds, and then said, "Maybe we can heat up the apple juice."

“Keep up, boys,” said John’s voice, from too far away. Dean realised he must have slowed down as he’d talked to Sam, even though he’d been trying to hold a steady pace. He reached for Sam’s hand, turning his head at the same time to call back to his father – and as he did so, he felt his balance betray him. His feet slipped in the slush, and in a rush he was a jumble of elbows and knees hitting the ground in all the wrong places.

For a second he sat still, assessing the damage. Nothing broken.

“Are you okay?” Sam said, the dish of his face looking pale and worried above Dean.

“I’m fine… ugh.”

“Get up,” John called, and when Dean turned his head to look, he saw that his father was turning away to keep walking. Dean scrambled to his feet, hands out for balance. His hip ached – he’d landed on it.

“I’m alright,” Dean said to Sam, pulling on a smile. “Let’s go.”

He hurried after John, making sure Sam was beside him, going as fast as he dared until they were right behind their father. His knee was starting to throb, too, and he kept it off his face carefully, because Sam was still glancing up at him.

“Saw you reach for your brother when you were falling,” John grunted. “Don’t do that. If you two’re on your own and both of you go down, you’re both dead. If Sam’s still up, he can go for help.”

“I wasn’t –” Dean tried to say.

“Don’t do it,” John repeated, more forcefully.

They walked on in silence.

––––-

And now Dean was twenty-one years old and stepping out into the brisk air of a winter evening, with his head a little light from the drinks he’d had in the bar at his back.

“Come on,” Cassie said from beside him, her eyes bright with laughter. “You can tell me.”

“Hey, we’ve been through this,” Dean said, as they began to make their way down the street, “If I told you, I’d have to kill you.”

“As if you could,” Cassie said.

Dean glanced over at her smile, and thought about the way the shifter he’d taken out earlier that day had looked at him, right before he’d swung the blade through her neck. He swallowed hard.

“I might,” he said, and held his arms a little out from his body. “How long can I contain this much raw aggression, you know?”

“Stop," Cassie said, nudging him with her shoulder. “Seriously, okay, just tell me what your job is.”

“Is it really worth your life?” Dean asked, putting on his most serious face.

“You’re really trying to tell me you’re, what – a spy? A fed?” Cassie asked. “C’mon, you can’t expect me to believe that. With that face?”

“Hey,” Dean said, mock-offended, as they passed closed-up stores and parking bays. “What’s wrong with my face?”

“Nothing,” Cassie said, “that’s literally the problem. The FBI don’t hire people who look like you, do they? This is real life, not HBO.”

“Okay,” Dean said, his face working not to look too pleased. Underfoot, the pavement was shiny with ice. Dean started to walk a little slower. “So, if this isn’t the face of a fed, what is it the face of?”

“Mmm. Radio show host?” Cassie laughed when Dean threw her a look. “Well, c’mon, how am I supposed to know? Third date and you still won’t tell me?”

“Just trying to keep the mystery alive,” Dean said, faking an absent kind of tone in the hope that Cassie would drop the subject. The sidewalk was getting more and more treacherous, each of his steps sliding just a little.

“The mystery is too alive,” Cassie said. “It could die a bit. I’d be okay with that.”

“Whoa… careful.” Dean’s foot slipped out from under him, and he only managed to keep his balance by grabbing onto a parking meter that happened to be close by.

“Easy, big shot.” Cassie watched him start to move again, even more tentatively. “Wouldn’t wanna lose the deal with HBO if you fall on that perfect face.”

There was an edge of hurt to her tone of voice, and Dean jaw tightened. Was he ever going to tell her, he wondered. Surely not. She’d hate it. Spending time with Cassie was like visiting a parallel universe. That world didn’t have room for monsters under the bed.

And so Dean kicked them back underneath as hard as he could, and smiled at Cassie, and held out his hand.

Cassie looked down at it, and then back up at him.

“Really?” she said, a smile waiting at the corners of her mouth.

“It’s slippery,” Dean said, and wiggled his fingers temptingly.

“Yeah,” Cassie said with a laugh, pushing his hand away, “it is, asshole. That’s why I’m not letting you take me down with you.”

––––-

And now Dean was thirty-one years old and watching a soccer game, gloves on, hat on, clapping along with the dark-haired woman next to him.

“Come on, Ben!” called Lisa.

“Like we practised, okay, kid?” Dean added, and watched Ben’s face relax into concentration as he placed the ball for his free kick, just a yard outside the penalty box.

“You practised free kicks with him?” Lisa said to Dean, sounding like she was holding back a laugh. Dean glanced down at her; she had her eyes on her son, but there was a little smile on her face.

“A couple times,” Dean said. “He asked.”

“That’s sweet. And I thought you two just watched TV and ate too much pizza together.”

“We do that too,” Dean said. “When I have a say in it.” He rubbed his hands together, trying to warm them up. On either side of Lisa and Dean, also at the edge of the soccer pitch, were other parents all waiting on Ben to take his kick. They were standing on wet grass, a few of them stamping their feet to keep them from going numb.

Ben took a short run up, swung his leg, made contact. The ball sailed high, dipped – and the goalie caught it neatly.

“Next time,” Dean called out when Ben’s face fell, and gave him a clap. The game played on.

“God, it’s cold,” Lisa said.

“You want my coat?”

Lisa looked up at him, her big brown eyes soft.

“You’re cute, you know that?”

“... Right.” Dean smiled awkwardly. Lisa’s would-be compliment hung in the air, sounding more incongruous the longer Dean stood tense and unmoving.

Lisa reached out, and put her hand on his folded arms.

“You wanna order in, tonight?” she said lightly. “Or I could make fajitas.”

“I can cook,” Dean said. “I’ll make burgers.”

“Mmm. Twist my arm.”

Some small burst of relief, there. Dean’s expression eased. He put his hands in his pockets, lifted his chin, as though remembering the role he was playing. Who he was, now.

He shifted his feet – and felt his right foot slide, almost right out from under him. He steadied himself, hands out to the sides, looking down at the grass.

“Careful,” Lisa said.

“Jesus,” Dean said at the same time.

“Come here,” Lisa said, holding out her hand.

Dean smiled.

“It’s all good,” he said, reaching out and giving the hand a squeeze, and then letting go quickly.

“Can’t have the head chef breaking his arm,” Lisa said, her hand still out.

“It’s fine, really.”

“Dean, would you hold my hand?”

“We’ll both go over,” Dean said.

“Mm-mm. I’ll hold you up.”

Her expression allowed no argument. Unwillingly, Dean allowed her to loop their arms together, Lisa pinning Dean to her side and turning back to the game, calling out to support Ben as he went for a tackle. Dean stood quietly. He was having to lean down ever so slightly so that Lisa could keep his arm tucked under hers.

He tried very hard not to move. Just the smallest slide of his feet and he’d be over and he’d take her with him. Every muscle in his legs was clenched, forcing himself not to slip.

After just a minute or so of stiff silence, Lisa sighed.

“Okay,” she said, “you win.”

She let go.

––––-

And now Dean was forty-one years old and walking down a street in Lebanon, Kansas, on legs that still felt a little new. The cold air was harsh; he took in a deep breath.

He went to cross the road, and a car gave a screech as it swerved suddenly to avoid him. The driver made a few different gestures at him through the window, and Dean held up a hand in apology.

It was easy to forget that things didn’t part and make way on Earth like they had done in Heaven.

“Couldn’t fix that for me, could you?” Dean said aloud. “Not that I’m not grateful for the ticket home, Cas, but Heaven had its perks.”

Silence. Dean kept walking, with only the slightest slump to his shoulders and crease on his brow. Lebanon was wearing snow like a big white coat. Dean’s boots crunched in it when he stepped off the gritted path to let a mother with a stroller go by.

“I should probably stop expecting to see you round every corner, huh,” he said. “Been a week now. And I keep wandering around thinking you might show up just ‘cause I’m looking.” Someone passing gave him a slightly frightened look and a wide berth as he walked by, talking to himself. Just another thing no one had much noticed in Heaven: the prayers. Dean frowned, and ducked his head. Tucked his hands in his pockets.

He walked quietly for some time.

Long enough for his hands to come back out of his pockets, and his shoulders to lose their self-conscious hunch. Long enough for the hurt in his eyes to seem nearer the surface.

“Might not even have been you that got me out of Heaven,” Dean said, his tone quiet, as though picking up the thread of a half-finished conversation.

A pause, in which he walked. Passed by other people, made no eye contact. Dean meandered a little as he went, as though his mind were elsewhere.

“If you’re angry, you could just tell me,” he said. “God knows I’d get it.”

He glanced to his left and right before crossing a road, his eyes lingering on the faces nearest him, as though he were looking for someone.

“Cas, just talk to me,” he said. The words were so quiet that no human but Dean himself heard them. He was still watching around him, waiting, but nothing happened.

He put his hands into his pockets again. Walked with his shoulders set a little lower.

“It’s not…” Dean muttered, a broken-off answer to a thought inside his head. “Just – I don’t know what you want me to do. Can you hear me thinking about you? ‘Cause it’s all the time, man. I don’t know what to do. Last time I saw you, you told me… but now you aren’t even…”

He rounded a corner and began to cross a small parking lot.

“If you’d just come here. You could tell me what I’m supposed to do. All I want is…” Dean’s eyes searched the backs of the cars he passed as if their number plates were esoteric texts with all the answers, all the things he needed to say. He breathed out. “I don’t know how, man, I don’t know what to do.”

He swallowed.

“It feels like I have to do something, though.”

He kept walking.

“Or, I don’t know. Maybe I just want to.”

He breathed out.

Emotions were crossing his face, too fast to catch one alone, too swift to parse. He looked down at his feet, watching where he stepped.

“If I had what I wanted,” he said, “you’d be here.” After a pause, he rolled his eyes. “I’m sure that’s news to you. Like, wow, right? Not as though I’ve ever asked, after all.” Another silence, and then he said, “But you know, I – it’s not that I just want to… fix it, or… finish things off. It’s not… I’m not…” He pressed his lips together, smiled wryly. “Jesus. I hope you can’t hear this. I’m not making any sense. I’m just trying to say, I want you here, man. I want you here to stay.”

A little flicker of light seemed to touch Dean’s eyes.

“You could stay now,” he said, “right? You could actually stay. If you wanted to. And we could…” He stopped. “Yeah,” he said quietly.

A car drove by, and the child in the backseat stared out the window at him. Dean blinked back to reality.

“We didn’t have time to think about what we wanted,” he said into the quiet of the parking lot, when the car had passed and he was walking again. “All this time. Or maybe you did. But I didn’t.” He looked upwards, towards the iron sky. “And now there’s time, Cas, and all I’m thinking about is you.” He looked down. “I said that already.”

He moved on, stepping out the other side of the parking lot and onto the sidewalk.

“I remember you said that the… the thing you want, you can’t have.” Dean took in a breath and let it go. “I don’t know why you thought you couldn’t. Whatever it is, man, you deserve it.”

His feet carried him onward.

“You gotta be sick of hearing me talk at this point. But I just…” Dean’s eyes glanced over the snowy Lebanon street in front of him, and he crossed the road. “I just want you here. Maybe I should take a damn hint.” His voice strained, hurt betraying the attempt at levity in his tone. “But you said… I keep thinking back on what you said. About how you feel. And I, uh. You know. If you’d just let me…”

Dean lifted his hands, a little helplessly, into the air as he walked, as though wanting to give something invisible to someone who wasn’t there. He dropped them awkwardly, his expression creasing.

He was circling back around towards the mall, his footsteps pointing him towards home. He looked heavy, weary. The lines on his face were deep, and his eyes were unfocused, lost in thought.

The people around him paid him no attention. He was just part of the crowd. They swirled across his path and around him, irrelevant to him, not seeing him. Except –

Dean came to a sudden stop. His gaze sharpened.

Twenty feet away from him, standing completely still, was a figure. Not struggling with carrier bags or strollers or wallets and keys like the other shoppers going into and out of the mall. Utterly stone still.

Tall, almost as tall as Dean. Wearing a long coat. Brown-haired. Impassive.

Watching Dean as though waiting for him.

And Dean visibly blossomed. His mouth fell slightly open, his shoulders loosened, one hand reached out unconsciously.

“Cas?” he said, disbelieving – and Dean saw a slight smile appear on Castiel’s face, and the angel slightly raised one hand in greeting.

Warmth touched Dean’s eyes, rising up as though from a great depth. He began to move, at first taking care on the slippery sidewalk. But his feet hurried him, and he was walking fast and then he was almost running, caution forgotten, eyes on Castiel’s.

It was when he was only a few steps away that his foot hit a patch of black ice. His arms went out, struggling to balance him – Castiel moved forward, one hand out – Dean reached for him on instinct, grasping his arm, his body relaxing in obvious expectation of Castiel being able to pull him upright –

But Castiel’s weight tilted along with Dean’s, and the ground gave them both a hard and cold welcome. There were some muttered ooohs from people passing by, and a few of them came to awkward stops nearby.

Dean landed hard on his back, head hitting the cement. He stared for a moment up at the sky. It had all happened very fast.

He sat up, and saw Castiel kneeling beside him, inspecting his own hands.

“Fuck,” Dean said. He put a hand to the back of his head. No blood.

“Are you okay?” said someone behind Dean, and he waved them off.

“All good,” he said, seeing in his peripheral vision that the people who’d stopped to look were moving on. He looked at Castiel. “Are you… you’re…”

Castiel stopped staring down at his hands, and looked at Dean instead. His blue eyes searched Dean’s face. Under his gaze, Dean smiled – a smile that grew on his face from a tiny brightness in his eyes until his whole face was alight with it.

“It’s you,” he said. "Damn, Cas, it's really you."

“It’s me,” Castiel confirmed. His voice held a recognition of Dean’s smile, a reciprocal warmth.

“You’re here.”

“I heard you,” Castiel said.

“You heard me? Just now?”

“Yes.”

Dean nodded. He was breathing a little fast. His gaze searched Castiel’s face, partly seeming to be looking for something, partly seeming already to have found it. People were stepping around them to get inside the mall.

“It’s good to see you,” Dean said.

Castiel smiled too, at last.

“But you know,” Dean added, “you could’ve just appeared right next to me instead of a whole freaking mile away on a slippery sidewalk. That’s all I’m gonna say.”

“Ah.” Castiel, still on his knees beside where Dean was sitting, dropped his gaze. “That was, in fact, not under my control. Jack sent me down here. After I asked him to do something for me.”

Castiel looked down at his hands again, and this time Dean looked too. His expression broke into slight surprise when he saw red on Castiel’s palms, at the sight of the blood – and then the surprise came in a second, deeper wave, as realisation hit.

“Cas,” he said.

“Just a graze,” Castiel said calmly.

“But you – you’re – that’s not supposed to happen,” Dean said. He reached out, and took Castiel’s hands in his own, inspecting the little scrapes on the skin. “You can’t get hurt like this.”

“Well,” Castiel said, “I can, now.”

“But you’re…” Dean stared at Castiel, seeming suddenly caught in consternation.

“Staying,” Castiel finished for him.

Wide-eyed, still sitting on the sidewalk, Dean took this in. Something light crossed his face, then anger, then confusion.

“I heard you,” Castiel reminded him. Dean stared at him.

“What I said?”

“Yes.”

“About staying?”

“Yes.”

“And you… you want that?”

Despite the hustle of people around them, the crunch-crunch of their boots in the snow and the harshness of their voices, Dean and Castiel might have been the only two people in the world when Castiel said,

“Yes, Dean.”

“So, but – before, in the bunker, with the Empty, when you said – the thing – the thing you said you wanted –”

Castiel looked down at their hands. Dean’s holding Castiel’s.

Dean tightened his grip.

“Just that?” he said, his voice sounding thick.

Castiel said nothing, words seeming to fail him.

They stared at each other. Hands in hands, touching, Castiel bleeding. Dean didn’t let go.

“It’s yours,” Dean said roughly.

“You mean…” Castiel’s eyes were suddenly wide. “You mean that you…”

“Since pretty much day one. I just never thought you’d want that from me.”

The world moved past and around them. They didn’t notice. Castiel was radiating happiness in every body line, though he was unmoving. Dean was watching him as though afraid he might disappear in the space of a blink.

"Is this real?" he said. "My head hurts enough for it to be real."

Castiel nodded.

“You’re really staying,” Dean said.

“As long as you’ll let me.”

After enough time under the steadiness of Castiel’s gaze, it seemed finally to sink in for Dean – the truth of it, the reality of it. Dean breathed out.

He swallowed. He looked down.

He smiled.

“We should get home, then,” he said.

Castiel didn’t say anything, but he gave a nod made small by emotion.

“Oh. I’m sorry, though,” Dean said, his eyes catching on Castiel’s small injuries now that he was looking down again. His thumb lightly touched the place where blood was drying on Castiel’s palm. “If I’d known I wouldn’t have run at you.”

“It’s fine,” Castiel said, getting to his feet and pulling Dean up with him, their hands not letting go.

“I’ll be more careful next time.”

“Don’t be,” Castiel said, his blood on Dean’s hands, and still holding them. “Don’t be.”

[diegos-butt]

Unnoticed (chapter four)

Summary: He had watch her grown up. He had seen her transform into a beautiful woman, with a strong will but insecurities. Despite being away from time to time, he had fallen for her, hard. She on the other hand, had seen him become a big, strong man. But deep down she knew he had a soft side. She had fallen, hard, for him too. Another thing they have in common? The believe that the other will never feel the same. Will their feelings for each other always stay unnoticed?

Captain Daniel Syverson x Kathy Davis (plus size/curvy/thick OFC)

Warnings: attempted winking, filthy thoughts. Just the usual guys, no worries.

Wordcount: 5.9k

A/N: I hope you like this ✨

chapter one / chapter two / chapter three

•••

I had been trying to distract myself all week after the little incident with Sy. Yes, I had declared it as a little incident, and I had been avoiding talking about it. Which, obviously, failed since I didn’t show up for the Friday night dinner at the pub, so my phone had exploded with texts from Brianna, Holly and even the guys. I assured them I was fine and I just had a headache.

Brianna and Holly didn’t buy it and they came to visit me on Saturday. They tried to tell me Sy didn’t meant what he said, that he just had misphrased his words. I really wanted to believe them, but the self-doubt in me wouldn’t allow it.

The week passed slowly, I kept myself busy with work and chores. On Thursday I had literally finished all my work for the week, so Brianna insisted I’d take a day off from work the day after.

“Seriously Kathy, you are going to take a day off tomorrow. Relax a bit. Talk to Sy. Clear the air,” Brianna said as I walked inside her office for no reason for the fifth time that day.

“Fine, I will take a day off, but I will not talk to Sy,” I answered and sat down in a chair in front of her desk. But maybe I should? He has been texting me every day. Maybe I should hear him out?

“Look, if you don’t talk to him tomorrow, I will make sure it happens this weekend. And I’ll be there. I doubt you want to discuss your feelings for him with me next to you,” Brianna smirked. The minx.

“You’re threatening me now?” I laughed but I knew she was dead serious. “Maybe, maybe I will talk to him tomorrow, okay?”

“It is not a yes, yet, but I’ll do for now.”

Soon after our conversation ended, we both went home. Feeling restless, I spend my Thursday night cleaning the house. That did mean I had the entire Friday to do nothing, to relax and sleep in. Well, that’s what I thought.

I woke up to the loud ringing of my doorbell. Confused I sat up, I wasn’t expecting anyone. Slowly I walked to the front door, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes. I unlocked and opened the door to see a large man in front of me.

“What are you doing here?” I asked Sy.

“Good morning darlin’, Brianna told me ya had a day off so I thought we could have breakfast,” he said and held up a basket filled with different kinds of bread, fruit, and other delicious food.

Even more confused I kept staring at him. He cocked his eyebrow and gestured me to let him in.

“Oh, yeah sorry, come in,” I muttered and let him walk past me. Suddenly I realized I was in my pyjamas, a cami top and shorts. It was a little revealing, but since I grew up with him, he had seen me in my bikini multiple times, so I didn’t care.

I watched Sy march into my kitchen and unloading the basket on the small table. He stood with his back to me, and I nearly drooled. That ass is illegal. Really fucking illegal. That back also. God, it just begs me to leave scratch marks with my fingernails on it.

Sy coughed and I realized I had been staring a little too obvious. Feeling my cheeks heat up, I walked towards him.

“Having breakfast is nice, but why on earth did you have to show up this early?” I pointed at the clock on the wall.

“It’s not early. It is already 8.30am,” Sy said and pulled out a chair for me. I sat down, and his fingers grazed my shoulders softly.

“That’s early. Especially on a day off. I’m allowed to sleep until 10am, at least.” I yawned excessively and watched Sy sat down opposite of me. He chuckled and poured me a cup of coffee. “You even brought coffee?”

“Figured ya needed it, to wake up,” he said and poured a cup for himself too. I took a sip, and it was delicious. Immediately I felt a little more awake, and a bit more aware of how I looked. I placed the cup down again and tried to fix my hair the best I could.

Sy had started eating, so I did too. We ate in silence, and I tried to make eye contact with him, but he kept looking away.

“Sy, why are you here?” I asked after we finished eating. I hated arguing, but I hated not expressing emotions even more. Kind of ironic, I know.

“Well, I think this not speaking to me thing of ya has lasted long enough,” he started. “So, I thought we could talk about it. And since ya let me in, and haven’t scratched out my eyes, I think ya wanna talk too.”

I took the last sip of my coffee and pushed a piece of pineapple around on my plate. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Good,” Sy said softly. His eyes met mine and for a second, I thought I saw he was a bit scared. What the hell are you scared of?

“Okay, maybe I have overreacted a bit. Maybe,” I whispered.

“And I should have phrased my words differently. I like being around ya and I prefer your company over everyone else’s.” He grabbed my hands and held them tight. My heart skipped a few beats and a smile formed on my face.

“I like being around you too captain,” I smiled. “But maybe don’t phrase your words like that again, okay?” He squeezed my hands one more time and let them go again.

“I’ll try my best darlin’,” he winked. Well, he tried to wink. I snorted out loud and nearly knocked the coffee cup off the table.

“You’re really doing this on purpose now don’t you?” I said and wiped a tear away that was rolling down my cheek. “You’re really so stubborn you’re not going to admit you can’t wink?”

“Be careful darlin’, you’re quite stubborn yourself,” he laughed and stood up to clear the table. I helped him and together we placed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher.

“So, what are ya plans for today?” Sy asked while he was leaning against the counter.

“I don’t have plans honestly, you?”

“I was planning on helping my momma in the garden. Ya wanna help?” he said. I thought I could sense an undertone of uncertainty, but it was gone the second the sentence was over. Spending the day with you. In the garden. While you’re probably going to sweat. Oh god what if he takes his shirt off. Kat, keep it together.

“Yes, of course! I just need to get dressed, I’ll be back in a second,” I said and started to walk away but turned around as I heard Sy speak up.

“No need darlin’, ya could wear this,” Sy smirked.

“Very funny captain.” I shook my head and walked out of the kitchen, but before I was out of the room, I looked over my shoulder. I caught Sy looking at my ass and licking his lips. Quickly I looked in front of me again and walked to my bedroom, giggling. Please tell me I am not just seeing what I want to see. He really checked me out right?

I quickly freshened up and got dressed. I wore a pair of jeans that accentuated my ass even better. If he’s gonna stare at it, might put them of their best display.

Sy was waiting for me on the couch, he stood up as soon as I walked in the room. He smiled at me and followed me to the front door. I locked up behind us and he guided me to this truck. Sy opened the door for me, and gratefully I climbed in.

During the short drive to his parents’ house, we talked like nothing had happened. I was happy about it; I wasn’t one to keep hanging on to the past. Soon, he parked the car in front of the house. We stepped out, only to meet his parents.

“Kathy! Sweety, how lovely to see you!” Sy’s mother said and gave me a kiss on my cheek.

“It’s really nice to see you too!” I said and nodded at Sy’s father. You could easily tell they were Sy’s parents. He had his mother’s eyes and nose, while he had his father’s physique.

“I would love to chat with you, but we are on our way to meet some friends. We will catch up soon, okay?” Sy’s mother continued.

“I thought we were gonna work in the garden?” Sy asked, and I could see the visible confusion on his face. I might be crazy but are his parents trying to set us up now too?

“Yes, but Jane called if we would like to have lunch. Who are we to decline such a lovely offer? But you and Kathy could work in the garden!” she said, and I noticed Sy’s father walk towards his car. Was he laughing?

“Come sweetheart, let’s go,” Sy’s father said and held the car door open for his wife. She gave Sy a kiss on the cheek and stepped in the car. Sy’s father did so too and started the car. Before he drove off, Sy’s mother opened her window. “Have fun you two!” she yelled and winked at us. Definitely trying to set us up.

“At least your mom can wink,” I deadpanned.

“Oh, shut up,” Sy groaned, and I laughed out loud. He turned around and walked around the house to the garden, I followed close behind.

“So, what do we need to do captain?” I asked Sy as we walked into the large garden. Most of it covered with grass, the areas on the outside were filled with different types of flowers and plants.

“We need to remove the weeds between the plants and flowers,” Sy said and walked into the little shed to collect some tools for us to use.

After an hour of working hard, pulling out weeds, I started to get a little tired. Sy and I didn’t talk much while we worked side by side. I did look at him from time to time. I watched his big arms pulling the weeds out effortless and I noticed he had started to sweat a little. The sight of it made me nearly faint. Sy also let out a few grunts every now and then. Are you trying to make me jump you Sy?

“You want something to drink?” I asked Sy as I was starting to get a bit thirsty. Not only thirsty for something to drink though.

“Yeah, thanks darlin’,” he answered and wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand.

I nodded and stood up. I proceeded to walk to Sy’s cabin, which was practically hidden in the far back of the garden between trees. I wasn’t even three steps away from Sy when I stepped on an uneven patch of grass. My ankle twisted and before I knew it, I was on the ground.

“Ouch!” I murmured and grabbed my ankle.

“What did ya do?” Sy said as he kneeled beside me. He placed one of his hands on my shoulder and looked at me worried.

“Just sprained my ankle, it’s no big deal,” I said. Sy held out his hand for me and helped me get up. I hissed in pain when I tried to stand on the sprained ankle.

“Yeah, right, no big deal uh?” Suddenly Sy lifted me up bridal style, and I let out a squeal.

“Sy, what are you doing?!” I clasped my arms around his neck, worried for a second, he might drop me, but then I remembered he was more than capable of carrying me.

He didn’t answer me, he just placed me on one of the lounge chairs and walked inside his parents’ house to grab a pillow from the couch. In mere seconds he returned and placed the pillow under my sprained ankle. He had also bought back two bottles of water and handed me one.

“Ya stay here and let that ankle rest for a bit. I might not be able to wink, but you can’t walk apparently,” he mocked.

I laughed and watched him walk away, to finish our work in the garden. While sipping from my water I admired him. His shirt now sticking to his body from the sweat, accentuating his physique even more. That man sweating and grunting above me? I might not survive that. Not that I would complain though. Maybe we should start with a kiss. Oh my god I wanna kiss him so badly. Is he licking his lips? Sy don’t fucking tease me.

After 30 minutes of me obviously checking out Sy, he stopped working. I guessed he was finished. His eyes locked with mine and we both smiled. He walked over to me, and I sat up a bit straighter.

“How’s that ankle doing?” he asked.

“Oh, it’s alright. It doesn’t hurt so much anymore.”

“How can ya know when ya haven’t stood on it since it happened?” Sy cocked his eyebrow. He did have a point, but I wasn’t one to admit I was in pain.

Sy held his hand out for me, I took it and he helped me stand up. Once I stood on both feet again, it was obvious my ankle still hurt.

“Ya are clearly not in pain anymore,” Sy pointed out and chuckled. “Come on, I’ll wrap it for ya. I have an emergency kit in my cabin.” Next thing I knew I was in his arms again, bridal style.

“Sy! You know I can walk!” I yelped and wrapped my arms around his sweaty neck. “Also, you’re sweaty.”

“Ya can’t walk with that ankle. And don’t pretend ya mind I’m a bit sweaty darlin’, I saw ya staring at me.” I felt my cheeks burn and was lost for words for a moment.

Sy carried me inside his cabin, he even managed to open the door while still carrying me. He walked inside his bedroom and placed me on his huge bed. He went into his bathroom and returned with the emergency kit.

“Come here,” Sy said and kneeled in front of me, placing my foot on his knee. He carefully started wrapping my ankle with a bandage. His large hands managed to make my foot look small in his hand, and I let out a giggle.

A few minutes later he was done. He stood up again and pointed at my jeans. They had grass stains on it from my fall. “If ya want, ya could wear some of my sweats,” he offered.

“Very nice offer captain, but in case you haven’t noticed, my ass won’t fit into those,” I smirked.

“Yeah right, I have a big ass too,” he huffed and turned his back to me to wiggle his ass.

“Oh, you do, you really do. But mine is still bigger,” I laughed. Sy shook his head and a playful smile formed on his face.

“I wouldn’t mind helping ya change into my sweats though, maybe they’ll fit with my help,” Sy smirked.

“You’re just trying to get me out of my pants or what?” I laughed. I could tell he wanted to say something, but he shook his head again and grabbed to emergency kit. He walked inside the bathroom, leaving me alone on the bed.

I reached down to touch my ankle. He had wrapped it nicely. I was about to retrieve my hand when I bumped into something underneath the bed. Curious about what it was, I grabbed it. It was a box I had never seen before. I hesitated to look inside, but then the lid popped open. My letters were inside. The letters I had send him while he was away. He kept my letters? Underneath is bed?

A cough caught my attention, and I saw Sy standing awkwardly in front of me.

“You kept my letters?” I asked him, still a bit surprised.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I like them. I like reading them. They are kinda comforting,” he said and scratched the back of his head. I could tell he was a bit uncomfortable. “I sometimes read them before I go to sleep,” Sy continued.

“That is really sweet Sy,” I said and stood up. Quickly his hand grabbed my elbow, to make sure I wouldn’t have to stand on my sprained ankle. His eyes locked with mine, and suddenly my heart was beating faster than ever before.

We stood in front of each other, unsure of what to say next. Awkwardly, I looked at the ground until he lifted my chin up with his finger.

“You know what? Fuck it. Kat, darlin’, would ya like to go on a date with me?”

The whole week was dreadful. Ever since Friday I felt like an idiot, and everyone told me so. Friday night dinner at the pub was not she same without her. As soon as I had finished my meal, I went home. I had hoped she would’ve showed up so we could talk it out. Unfortunately, she didn’t. Kat also didn’t answer my calls or messages. I hated texting, but I tried it anyway.

Working with the guys had been quite annoying the last few days. They used every opportunity to call me out of my actions and told me I just had to go see Kat. They thought she would talk to me if I’d just show up. I had thought about it, and Tuesday late in the afternoon I drove to her house. I waited in my truck but when she came home, I could tell by her movements she was not in the mood to talk. Sighing, I drove back home.

Now, on Thursday, I was starting to get fed up with Kat still ignoring me. I promised myself I would go see her tonight. That was until I got a call.

“Brianna?” I answered the phone.

“Sy, hi. Thank god you picked up,” Brianna spoke.

“Why wouldn’t I pick up?”

“You never pick up, but never mind. The reason I’m calling is Kat, obviously,” she continued.

“Is she alright?” I asked.

“She is fine but could do better. That is actually why I’m calling. I think it is time you two talk this thing out.”

“I’ve been trying, but she wouldn’t answer my calls or texts. I’m gonna go over tonight.” I mean, I should, right?

“Good! You definitely should go see her. You know how stubborn she can be,” Brianna laughed. “But I just tried to talk some sense into her, and I think she is ready to talk to you. She is taking the day off tomorrow, so maybe you could see her then?”

“Yeah sure. Thanks for calling Bri.” After we said goodbye, I hung up the phone. Guess it’s better if I go see her tomorrow, maybe we could spend the day together?

The next morning, I woke up early, really early. I twisted and turned in bed, but I couldn’t sleep again. I wanted to see Kat and talk it out. She couldn’t stay mad forever, right? With a groan I climbed out of bed and took a shower. While I was showering, an idea popped up in my head. Maybe I could surprise her with breakfast?

Satisfied with my plan, I quickly got dressed and went into the kitchen to search for breakfast food. I opened the fridge, and noticed it was nearly empty. Shit. Luckily, I knew I could find everything I needed in my momma’s kitchen.

A few minutes later I stood in the kitchen in my parents’ house, a small perk of living in the cabin in the garden. Hopefully, I would have a house of my own soon. I better make this right with Kat if I wanna buy a house with her.

“What are you doing honey?” I heard my mom’s voice behind me while I had collected a nice pile of food.

“Uhm, grabbing breakfast,” I answered.

“That’s a lot of food for one person, even for you. Spill it,” she said with a stern voice.

Knowing my mom, I knew she would keep me here until I told her the truth. “Made a mistake, so I’m gonna make it right.” She simply raised her eyebrow as she handed me a basket to place the food in. “Fine, I need to make something right with Kat.”

“Ah, I see. Well, you better make it right indeed if you ever intend on marrying her,” she spoke while she helped me fill the basket. “I like that girl, and so do you honey. Don’t mess it up with her, would you?”

After a monologue from my mom why I had to make it right with Kat, I finally managed to leave the house and drive to Kat’s after I promised to help her in the garden later that day. A little nervous I parked the car in front of Kat’s house. I stepped out and grabbed the basket, slowly I walked to her front door. What if she doesn’t want to see me?

I rang the doorbell and knocked on her door. Well, I don’t care if she doesn’t wanna see me, we are gonna talk this out right now. If she wants or not. The door opened, and a very sleepy Kat appeared in front of me. She looked adorable while she rubbed the sleep out of her eyes.

“What are you doing here?” she asked me.

“Good morning darlin’, Brianna told me ya had a day off so I thought we could have breakfast,” I said and held up the basket filled with different kinds of bread, fruit, and other delicious food. Confused she started at me, I cocked my eyebrow and she stepped aside to let me in.

“Oh, yeah sorry, come in,” she muttered, and I walked past her. She was in her pyjamas, a little cami top and shorts. Ya teasing me on purpose? I tried to not stare at her cleavage too much as I was passing her. I wanted to take her in my arms, and let my hands wander over her body. To prevent myself from grabbing her right there, I walked into the kitchen and unloaded the basket on her little table.

After I was done, I turned around and saw her eyes were glued to my back. With a simple cough, I gained her attention again and she walked up to me. Was she checking me out?

“Having breakfast is nice, but why on earth did you have to show up this early?” Kat pointed at the clock on the wall.

“It’s not early. It is already 8.30am,” I said and pulled out a chair for her. She sat down, and I couldn’t resist to touch her shoulders softly. Just let me place kisses all over ya soft skin darlin’.

“That’s early. Especially on a day off. I’m allowed to sleep until 10am, at least.” She yawned excessively. I chuckled and sat down opposite of her. I grabbed the thermos and poured her a cup of coffee. “You even brought coffee?”

“Figured ya needed it, to wake up,” I said and poured a cup for myself too. We both started eating, in silence. I could tell she was looking for eye contact, but I wasn’t quite sure of what to say yet, so I kept avoiding it.

“Sy, why are you here?” she asked after we finished eating. Well, here we go.

“Well, I think this not speaking to me thing of ya has lasted long enough,” I started. “So, I thought we could talk about it. And since ya let me in, and haven’t scratched out my eyes, I think ya wanna talk too.”

She took the last sip of her coffee and played with a piece of fruit on her plate. “Yeah, I guess.”

“Good,” I whispered. Do I tell her what I feel now? Or are we gonna play pretend for a little longer?

“Okay, maybe I have overreacted a bit. Maybe,” she whispered.

“And I should have phrased my words differently. I like being around ya and I prefer your company over everyone else’s.” I grabbed her hands and held them tight. Her large hands felt good in mine, like a perfect fit. A smile formed on her face. Okay playing pretend for a little while longer it is. I didn’t want to ruin something when I wasn’t sure she felt the same, but I wasn’t sure for how long I could keep this up.

“I like being around you too captain,” she smiled. “But maybe don’t phrase your words like that again, okay?” I squeezed her hands one more time and let them go again.

“I’ll try my best darlin’,” I winked, well knowing I couldn’t. I knew she would laugh about it. and I was right, she snorted out loud and nearly knocked the coffee cup off the table.

“You’re really doing this on purpose now don’t you?” she said and wiped a tear away that was rolling down her cheek. “You’re really so stubborn you’re not going to admit you can’t wink?”

“Be careful darlin’, you’re quite stubborn yourself,” I laughed and stood up to clear the table. She helped me and together we placed the dirty dishes in the dishwasher.

“So, what are ya plans for today?” I asked while leaning against the counter. Ya better have none.

“I don’t have plans honestly, you?”

“I was planning on helping my momma in the garden. Ya wanna help?” I asked. I wasn’t sure if she would want to help, but I just wanted to spend time with her without it being forced or feel awkward.

“Yes, of course! I just need to get dressed, I’ll be back in a second,” she said and started to walk away. Get dressed? Ya better don’t wear more than this. I’d prefer ya clothes on the floor.

“No need darlin’, ya could wear this,” I smirked. A little teasing wouldn’t hurt, would it?

“Very funny captain.” She shook her head and walked out of the kitchen. I watched her walk away, admiring her ass and thinking about how I’d want to slap it. Wait, did she just saw me staring at her ass? Oh, who cares. She has a nice ass, so I am obliged to look at it.

I waited on her couch, and a few moments later she returned. She wore a tight pair of jeans, hugging her figure and making her behind look even better. Her ass would look better naked though.

She smiled at me as I stood up and followed her to the front door. She locked up, and we walked to my truck. I opened the door for her and helped her get in.

While chatting, I drove home. It felt like nothing ever happened, which I was glad about. After a couple of minutes, I parked the car in front of the house. I immediately saw my mom and dad come out of the house. Oh no.

“Kathy! Sweety, how lovely to see you!” My mom said and gave Kat a kiss on her cheek. She better not embarrass me in front of Kat.

“It’s really nice to see you too!” Kat answered and gave my dad a nod. My parents had always liked Kat, and they had told me many times. At one point, I thought my mom would force me to marry her. Not that I would mind marrying her.

“I would love to chat with you, but we are on our way to meet some friends. We will catch up soon, okay?” my mom continued. They did not have any plans today. Are they trying to set us up now too?

“I thought we were gonna work in the garden?” I asked confused.

“Yes, but Jane called if we would like to have lunch. Who are we to decline such a lovely offer? But you and Kathy could work in the garden!” she said, and I noticed my dad walk towards his car. Was he trying to supress a laugh?

“Come sweetheart, let’s go,” my dad said to my mom and held the car door open for her. She gave me a kiss on the cheek and stepped in the car. My father started the car and wanted to drive off, but my mom opened the window before he could. “Have fun you two!” she yelled and winked at us. Oh, come on.

“At least your mom can wink,” Kat deadpanned.

“Oh, shut up,” I groaned, and Kat laughed out loud. I turned around and walked around the house to the garden, Kat followed close behind.

“So, what do we need to do captain?” she asked me as we walked into the large garden. Most of it covered with grass, the areas on the outside were filled with different types of flowers and plants my mother had planted over the years.

“We need to remove the weeds between the plants and flowers,” I said and walked into the little shed to collect some tools for us to use.

@We worked next to each other for the next hour. We didn’t talk but, it was comfortable. I watched her whenever she couldn’t see. She looked pretty, as always. She licked her lips every now and then, almost like she was begging me to kiss her.

“You want something to drink?” she asked and pulled me out of my thoughts. Yeah, I’m thirsty but not only for a drink darlin’.

“Yeah, thanks darlin’,” I answered and wiped the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand.

She nodded and looked at me. She walked to my cabin, but before she could reach it, I saw how she twisted her ankle and fell.

“Ouch!” she murmured and grabbed her ankle.

“What did ya do?” I said as he kneeled beside her as fast as I could. One of my hands found its way to her shoulder, the other hovered above her ankle.

“Just sprained my ankle, it’s no big deal,” she said. I held out my hand for her and helped her get up. Immediately, she hissed in pain when she tried to stand on the sprained ankle.

“Yeah, right, no big deal uh?” I spoke. No way she was going to walk right now. She needed to give her ankle some rest. I lifted her up bridal style and she let out a squeal.

“Sy, what are you doing?!” She wrapped her arms around tightly around my neck. If ya wanna choke me, let’s do that in a different situation darlin’. I might let ya.

I didn’t feel like she needed an answer to her question. Instead, I placed her down on one of the lounge chairs. I quickly walked inside afterwards and grabbed a pillow from the couch. I also grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge. When I came back, she was still seated on the lounge chair. Good girl. I was afraid she might have tried to stand up again.

“Ya stay here and let that ankle rest for a bit. I might not be able to wink, but you can’t walk apparently,” I mocked. She laughed, and I walked away to finish the work while chugging down the bottle of water.

It was hot and I started to sweat more and more. I wanted to take a nice, cold shower. Maybe I could persuade her of taking the shower with me? Shaking the thought off, I focused on pulling out the weeds.

After 30 minutes I was done. I had noticed Kat had been looking at me the entire time. That has to be a good sign, right? I looked at her and our eyes met, quickly I walked over to her.

“How’s that ankle doing?” I asked.

“Oh, it’s alright. It doesn’t hurt so much anymore,” Kat answered.

“How can ya know when ya haven’t stood on it since it happened?” I cocked my eyebrow. She hadn’t stood up since I had laid her down there, there now no way she could know the pain was gone.

I held my hand out for her. She took it and I helped me stand up. Once she was on both feet again, it was obvious that she was still in pain.

“Ya are clearly not in pain anymore,” I chuckled. “Come on, I’ll wrap it for ya. I have an emergency kit in my cabin.” I picked her up in my arms again, enjoying having her close to me.

“Sy! You know I can walk!” she yelped and wrapped her arms around my neck. “Also, you’re sweaty.”

“Ya can’t walk with that ankle. And don’t pretend you mind I’m a bit sweaty darlin’, I saw ya staring at me.” She gasped, and I chuckled. I carried her inside my cabin and sat her down on my bed. I walked into the bathroom and grabbed the emergency kit.

“Come here,” I said and kneeled in front of her. I gently grabbed her foot and placed it on my knee. I started to wrap her ankle carefully with a bandage. Her ankle was a little swollen, but it would be fine.

Soon, I was done. I stood up again and noticed the grass stains on her jeans. “If ya want, ya could wear some of my sweats,” I offered.

“Very nice offer captain, but in case you haven’t noticed, my ass won’t fit into those,” she smiled.

“Yeah right, I have a big ass too,” I huffed and turned my back to her to sway my ass.

“Oh, you do, you really do. But mine is still bigger,” she laughed. I laughed and shook my head.

“I wouldn’t mind helping ya change into my sweats though, maybe they’ll fit with my help,” I smirked. I really wouldn’t mind helping ya out of those jeans.

“You’re just trying to get me out of my pants or what?” she laughed. Yes. Fuck yes. I shook my head, grabbed the emergency kit, and walked back inside the bathroom.

I started in the mirror and noticed my sweaty face. I grabbed a washcloth, and quickly washed my face. Keep it together Sy. Or maybe I should just tell her. Maybe I could just ask her out? Don’t tell me she looks at me like that and not feel what I feel.

With a boost of confidence, I walked into the bedroom again. Kat is still on my bed, but this time she is holding the box with her letters. She was not supposed to find those. I coughed awkwardly, and she looked up.

“You kept my letters?” she asked me surprised.

“Yeah, I did.”

“Why?”

“Because I like them. I like reading them. They are kinda comforting,” I said and scratched the back of my head. “I sometimes read them before I go to sleep,” I continued.

“That is really sweet Sy,” she said and stood up. Seeing she was unsteady on her feet because of her ankle, I grabbed her elbow. Our eyes locked, and my heart skipped a beat. I thought I saw hope in her eyes.

We stood in front of each other, unsure of what to say next. Sy, it’s now or never. Just fuckin’ ask her. She was looking at the ground, so I lifted her chin up with my finger, making her look at me.

“You know what? Fuck it. Kat, darlin’, would ya like to go on a date with me?”

•••

> chapter five

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[gukyi]

that’s the spirit! | myg

summary: min yoongi hates halloween. as his best friend and resident halloween-lover, that is simply unacceptable. but when halloween night rolls around and you and min yoongi feel farther apart than ever before, you discover that what’s come between you is more than just a bad trick, and that no matter what day it is, loving him is the sweetest treat of all.

{college!au, friends to lovers!au, halloween!au}

pairing: min yoongi x female reader genre: fluff, comedy, a little angst? (a little i promise) word count: 8k (woohoo! i did it!) warnings: alcohol consumption, underage drunkenness in flashbacks, misunderstandings, helpless but mutual pining, halloween parties, this is halloween during college, what else do you expect a/n: some scenes inspired by love, rosie, my absolute favorite rom-com! happy halloween, and i hope this brings some joy to your life before armageddon i mean election day rolls around! much love 🎃💜

Min Yoongi hates Halloween. 

Which is ridiculous, because you assume that there must have been at least one time in his life where he liked it. Halloween is a universally-liked holiday. It was the one day of the year where he, an unbridled child rebelling against authority, got to dress up as his favorite book character, superhero, or movie star, hang out with his friends past sunset, and solicit strangers for free candy. Free candy! How could anyone hate that?

But the thing is, it doesn’t matter what Min Yoongi was like in his youth. Ever since you met him, he has hated Halloween. For reasons completely unbeknownst to you. 

Unfortunately for Min Yoongi, just because he hates Halloween doesn’t mean that he gets to spend his October pretending that it doesn’t exist. Because, unlike him, you do not hate Halloween. In fact, you rather like it. So much so that Min Yoongi has to deal with the holiday no matter what. For better… 

“Ah! What the fuck!”

Or for worse.

You pop your head out of your bedroom to find Yoongi about to throw down with the fake skeleton you’ve propped up by the door, one of those cheesy ones from Spirit Halloween that make a zombie sound whenever its artificial brain can sense someone near it. He’s got this wide-eyed look on his face, fists up in front of him like he’s going to beat the damn thing senseless, even though Min Yoongi is barely five-feet-ten and has a body that functions exclusively on iced coffee and could probably get taken down by the average third-grader. 

Min Yoongi does not have a flight instinct. He only knows how to fight. 

He’s muttering to himself by the time you emerge completely from your bedroom, grumbling about how he nearly wet himself at the sight of the thing, fingers glossing over the plastic bones as he inspects them. There he stands in the doorway of your apartment, curled-up fists tucked inside the too-long sleeves of his too-big hoodie, pink lips parted in innocent confusion as he blinks at your apartment’s new resident. 

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?” You chide from where you stand in your room, watching as Yoongi jerks his head up. The sound of your voice seems to catch him off guard for a minute, eyes wide in shock before he realizes that it’s you and his whole body relaxes. “Was that you I just heard screaming outside my apartment, Min Yoongi?”

“No,” Yoongi deadpans, fully aware that the both of you know that it was him. “Must have been someone else.”

“Yes, of course, my mistake,” you tease, coming up behind him to rub his upper arm, the palm of your hand pressing against the worn fabric of his hoodie sleeve as he sighs. “You don’t have a problem with my festive decorations at all, do you?”

“Not those,” Yoongi frowns, pointing to the orange and black streamers hanging above your apartment window, to the mini pumpkins sitting in the center of your dinky kitchen table, to the construction paper cutouts of black cats decorating your walls. He rounds on the skeleton, propped up right next to the door with the sole purpose of scaring whatever visitors you have. “This, I have a problem with. What is this thing?”

You smile proudly. “Reginald.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Yoongi looks at you, positively flabbergasted. “You named it?”

You scoff. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I? I bought him, he’s mine now, and he needed a name. So I named him Reginald. What’s the issue here?” You weren’t about to buy a twenty-five dollar plastic skeleton, set him up to be your personal doorman, and not give him a name. 

“The issue is that this—” he motions to Reginald’s face, “—is the first thing I see when I walk into your apartment, instead of—oh, I don’t know—you,” he says like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. 

“Aw, I’m touched,” you say, pressing a hand to your heart. “Didn’t know you always wanted to see my face first thing when you come over.”

Yoongi’s gaze drifts down towards the floor, thumbs twiddling. “Well, yeah,” he mumbles, words barely audible. “Why else would I come over?”

“I don’t know, for the ambience, maybe?” You say with a shrug, watching him slide his backpack off of his shoulder and onto the floor by the couch. “Anyway, maybe if you had come with me to Spirit Halloween when I went shopping for decorations, you wouldn’t be so surprised.”

“I had two midterms that week! Two!” Yoongi reminds you.”

“I’m just saying,” you tell him, hands up defensively as you make your way to the kitchen, fishing out two teabags from the cabinet as you set the kettle to boil. You never used to like tea, but a year ago Yoongi convinced you to try this jasmine flower one from the Asian supermarket downtown and you haven’t looked back. Now there’s always at least three spare boxes in your kitchen cupboards, for you and for him. “No time is a bad time to get into the Halloween spirit.”

Yoongi sighs, loud and obvious, because this is the third year in a row you’ve brought up this conversation and it’s not any more convincing than it was the last two times. “Do we have to do this?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t we just pretend it’s November Eve?”

“Come on, Yoongi,” you plead, because he’s never given you a good explanation as to why he refuses to spend Halloween with you, and you just want to know why. “Won’t you just celebrate this one stupid holiday with me?”

“So you admit it’s stupid?”

“That’s not what I meant.” You frown at him, crossing your arms as the kettle starts whistling. 

Yoongi exhales, reaching over you to pour the boiling water into your teacups, matching His and Hers ones you bought from the sale section of Target last year for Valentine’s Day. “It’s just not my thing. You know that.”

“But we’re college students,” you exclaim. “Halloween is the best when you’re a college student! You get to dress up as whatever you want and go to five different parties and spend the night with your friends without your parents chaperoning you.”

Yoongi purses his lips, unconvinced. “So… basically an opportunity to get piss drunk in a frat house? No thanks, I’ll pass.”

“You know that I wouldn’t care what we did if you celebrated Halloween with me,” you say, leaning against the counter as you hold your mug in your hands, the heat warming your palms and steam brushing against the skin of your cheeks. “Even if we just stayed in and watched a movie. Or played one of those horror video games Jungkook’s always talking about.”

“That sounds worse,” Yoongi admits with a helpless laugh. It really does. Neither you nor Yoongi have ever been huge fans of the horror genre Jungkook loves so much. 

You chuckle. “Honestly, yeah, forget I said anything about that.”

“You know I just don’t care for Halloween that much,” Yoongi says, gazing down into the swirling brown of his mug, the steam from the water making his glasses fog up. “It’s nothing personal.”

You sigh. That’s about as good of an answer you’re going to be getting out of him. No matter what you suggest, whether it be a house party, a night in, or even just a candy feast, he has always declined, citing his unexplainable dislike for the festivities. The only reason he deals with the holiday in the first place is because you love it so much. 

“Will you at least help me carve some pumpkins please?” You ask, a last ditch effort to get him to participate. “The supermarket on Fifteenth Street is having a sale on them, and I wanted to decorate the windowsill. It’s easier with two people, you know.”

Yoongi narrows his eyes, looking hesitant. 

“Oh, please, Yoongi? Just this once? It’s not even, like, a strictly Halloween thing. It’s just a fall thing! Plus, we can roast the pumpkin seeds after for a snack,” you plead, placing your cup down on the counter so you can tug on his arms, hands wrapped around his wrists as you stare into his eyes, positively desperate. 

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” Yoongi says with a huff, that resigned tone to his voice that signifies that he’s caving in. “Yes, we can carve pumpkins together. That I will do.”

“Oh my God, really? Yes! Yay, thank you so much!” In a fit of excitement, surprise, and joy, you pull Yoongi in for a hug, wrapping your arms around his neck as he tilts back in shock, tea spilling out over the edge of his mug and onto the linoleum floor beneath your feet, drops of it splashing against your skin. 

“Whoa, whoa, okay,” Yoongi says, taken aback. Still nestled tightly within your arms, he carefully sets his mug down onto the counter so as to avoid more spilling, his other hand pressing against the small of your back. “I didn’t know pumpkin carving was so important to you.”

You laugh, pulling away as you look into his eyes, crinkled up into fond little crescents. “It’s not. But you are.”

“So cheesy,” Yoongi chides.

“You love it,” you remind him, pressing the side of your body against his as you lean against the counter together. Instinctively, you let your head flop onto his shoulder, fitting perfectly in the crook of his neck. “Thanks for doing this for me,” you say softly. 

“Of course,” Yoongi says. “Anything for you.”

“Look how festive campus is!”

Yoongi chuckles as he watches you skip down the main walkway, the one that winds right from the west to the east side of campus, relishing in the feeling of autumn. Yoongi always forgets that it’s fall until it hits him like a brick to the head, and suddenly it’s getting dark at five-thirty and he can’t go outside without a proper jacket anymore. It’s a week until November, and Yoongi still refuses to wear anything heavier than a denim jacket, no matter how cold it gets. It can’t be winter yet, right?

“Wow, all the tones really fit the spooky mood,” you tell him, leaves crinkling as your feet step on the fallen foliage, brown and orange and yellow and red.

“How convenient it is that orange happens to be one of Halloween’s signature colors,” Yoongi chides with a roll of his eyes. “Is the Castle still hosting that party next week?”

“The costume one? Yeah, I’m pretty sure,” you tell him with a nod. “We’re still going, right?”

“Only because it’s our first year,” Yoongi reminds you pointedly. “And since you wanna celebrate together so badly.”

You scoff. “Don’t act like it’s such a drag. I know you want to spend time with me.”

Yoongi chuckles to himself, casual and cool. He knows you’re just teasing him but quite frankly, if Yoongi could spend every day of the rest of his life with you, then he would. If he could turn himself into a witch and cast a spell to keep you by his side for the rest of time, then he would. From the moment the two of you met in your dingy dorm, you clicked. And Yoongi knew, in that moment. He just knew. 

“Oh my God, look at the pumpkins!” 

Your voice breaks him from his thoughts, your finger pointing excitedly at the carved pumpkins outside of the dormitories that line the walkway, lit candles nestled safely inside. They’ve got everything from the college logo to video game characters to the face of your lovable-but-memeable university president carved into them, decorating the street with a little more personality than normal. 

“They’re so cute, holy shit,” you tell Yoongi fondly, all endeared and heart-eyed, the same way you get when someone walks their dog through campus or a professor sends out an update email with a picture of their newborn grandchild. Yoongi’s only known you a couple of months, but already he’s starting to figure out what makes you tick. “I love them. Don’t you love them, Yoongi?”

You turn around to meet Yoongi’s eyes, and when he looks back at you it feels like his whole heart is lighter. He sees your smile and it makes his body fill with warmth, like someone’s wrapping a blanket around him, like a warm cup of hot cocoa on a cool autumn afternoon. He looks back at you, and it feels like everything is right. 

“Yeah,” Yoongi says, grinning. “I do.”

The lopsided legs of your creaky kitchen table tremble as the pumpkin hits it. 

“Damn, is this thing heavy or am I just getting weaker?” You ask, smoothing out the newspaper spread out on the flat surface of the table, two college students’ best attempt to avoid a mess. They’re old student copies with headlines like Brand New Cafeteria, but is the Food Even Any Good? and New Semester, New Me! sprawled across the front. You care about your school news, you really do, but the members of the newspaper team that hand out the papers practically stuff them down your throat whenever there’s a new issue, which is three times a week and at every street intersection on campus. So you’ve had extras lying around. 

“Nope, they’re definitely heavy,” Yoongi agrees as he plops his pumpkin onto the table next to yours with a thud. “Though it’s not like I go to the gym much anyway.”

“Didn’t we say we were gonna try and be healthier this year, since we’re graduating?” You ask. 

“That was before that new doughnut place opened up next to the ramen restaurant three streets up,” Yoongi reminds you. 

“Maybe grad school?”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, reaching over the table to grab the pumpkin carving kits the two of you bought from the drugstore down the road. “Caution. Keep out of reach of children ages three and under,” he reads. “Welp, guess I can’t do this then…”

“Ha ha, very funny,” you say with a deadpan frown, grabbing onto his wrist. “Hold on a minute, Mr. I Promised I Would Do This For My Best Friend.” Yoongi exhales dramatically as you pull him back towards the table, though it’s not as if there was much resistance from him in the first place.

You pry open the plastic wrapping that surrounds the kit, the orange tools eventually popping out of their casing and onto your newspaper-ed table. Sure, you could have probably pulled out two knives from your kitchen drawer and it wouldn’t make a difference, but spending ten dollars each on these two little pumpkin carving kits didn’t seem like a waste of money. For the sake of Halloween spirit, right?

“What do you want to carve?” You ask, handing Yoongi your open kit as you gaze at the instruction manual. Pumpkin carving shouldn’t be too difficult, should it? You cut open the top, pull out all the gunk from the inside, and then carve a face, or something. 

“I’m not a very good artist,” Yoongi admits, looking hesitant. 

“Well, the good thing about pumpkin carving is that no one expects them to look nice,” you point out. “I think I want to do that anime eyes face emoji. You know the one. Let’s see…”

You grab a hold of the plastic knife that came with the kit, hover the tip over the top of the pumpkin, and stab. It sinks into the squash up to the hilt. That’s the good part. 

The bad part is that, because you’re holding onto a knife made out of non-recyclable plastic, moving it once it’s inside the pumpkin is exceedingly difficult. You pull it right and left fruitlessly, watching as the knife sits firmly in place, the handle bending with the curve of your fingers if you tug on it too hard. 

“Oh, for crying out loud,” Yoongi says with another sigh, abandoning his own pumpkin, which he has already de-stalked in the minutes you weren’t looking his way. “Let me help you.”

Suddenly, you feel a warmth wrap around you. A figure presses against your back, this musky, coffee-laden scent surrounding you, and you watch as Yoongi’s calloused hands slowly envelop yours, fingertips pressing firmly against your skin. It makes you freeze up instinctively, jumping at the sensation of his body around yours, of his torso pressed against your back, of his breath tickling your ear. 

“Relax, alright?” He says, voice calm and gentle. He brings your hands to the knife, lets his palms rest against them as your fingers slowly wrap around the handle. You can feel him breathing, feel the slow rise and fall of his chest against you, the heat of his mouth just inches away from your cheek. “It’s just me.”

You force a chuckle. “You just surprised me, that’s all.”

You feel Yoongi pause behind you. 

“Seriously, I’m fine. Help me,” you insist. 

Steadily, albeit a little bit tentatively, Yoongi does. His hand wrapped around yours, together the two of you carve out the top of the pumpkin, his chest pressed firmly against your back, body engulfing you. He feels so close, so goddamn close, like there is barely an inch of space in between the two of you, like if he were to bend down right there and if you were shift yourself around you would see nothing but his face right in front of yours, his hazy brown eyes looking back at you, twinkling in the white light of your kitchen. 

It almost makes you want to turn around and look. 

“There we go,” Yoongi says, voice suddenly soft, quiet like there’s something else weighing on his tongue. “What are you thinking of carving?”

“I don’t know,” you murmur, lips upturned. “Maybe you?”

“I don’t make for a very attractive pumpkin picture,” Yoongi says with a shake of his head, even though that’s total bullshit for a number of reasons. 

First of all, a pumpkin portrait is by no means meant to be an attractive portrayal of you, unless you’re Keanu Reeves and you look photogenic no matter what. Second of all, there has never been a time where Yoongi has not looked good. He always does. He did during finals week when his body was made of nothing but iced coffee, he did in freshman year when the two of you would stay awake until the early morning getting vodka spilled all over you in frat houses, and he does now, tired eyes and soft skin, dark hair and pink lips, standing in your apartment like he belongs here, like this is where he was meant to be. 

“I think you would,” you tell him honestly. “You’d look good no matter what.”

Yoongi’s silent at that, but you can tell from the way his cheeks are turning red he’s taken the compliment to heart. It makes you want to shower him in them. It makes you want to freeze this moment in time, suspended in reality, and stay like that forever. 

“Then I’ll do you,” he says with a grin, because what else would he say? Who else would he choose? You are going to put two matching pumpkins on your windowsill, and they will be of you and him. Messy, Picasso-style portraits carved into the orange skin. Two best friends, together even as fucking pumpkins. 

You will carve out a picture of him, and he will carve out a picture of you, and isn’t that what this is really all about?

“Do you think people are gonna get the wrong idea about us?” 

“What do you mean?”

Yoongi turns around to face you where you stand in front of your dorm mirror, this giant plastic one hanging on two hooks that you’ve latched onto the door of your room. He knows that you can see him in the mirror, staring back at you with a black mask over his face and a cape draped over his shoulders, the giant yellow emblem printed out on a piece of paper and taped onto his chest. It’s a last minute costume, for sure, but it gets the job done nicely. 

“I mean,” you say, fixing the cat ears that sit atop your head. “Do you think people are gonna think we’re a couple, or something?”

Yoongi grins nervously and hopes that you don’t notice. “I mean, we’re just going to a frat party. I doubt it’s going to be light enough to see anything at all. Why?”

“Well, I don’t want people to get the wrong idea about us,” you say, adjusting the mask over your eyes. Yoongi, unabashedly, rakes his eyes up and down your figure. Your black turtleneck and skintight leather leggings don’t leave very much to the imagination. You’re definitely much more in costume than he is, to say the least. 

“We’re freshmen, people already have the wrong idea about us,” Yoongi scoffs. 

You turn around just so you can shoot a frown his way. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

“Why are you so worried about people getting the wrong idea about us?” Yoongi asks you, an eyebrow raised. This does not exactly bode well for him. “We can be Batman and Catwoman together no matter what people think.”

“I don’t know, I guess I just—” You stop in your tracks, letting the words fall off your lips and crash to the floor. “Never mind, it’s stupid.”

“What? You can tell me,” Yoongi says, concern lacing his voice. He rushes over to you, the two of you staring at your reflections in the mirror. Two friends, clad in black, wearing matching costumes. If Yoongi wasn’t sober right now, maybe he would actually do it. 

Maybe. 

“It’s nothing, it’s nothing,” you shrug it off with a shake of your head. “I’m happy to be doing this with you. Even if your costume totally sucks.”

“Hey!” Yoongi exclaims defensively. “It is not my fault you came up with this idea last minute even though you already owned everything. I had to pay twenty-five cents to print this in color, you know.”

“A Twenty-five cent costume and you still look good.”

You and Yoongi smile at each other in the mirror, lips turned up as you stare at yourselves, wondering if this is all you will ever be, or if there is something more. 

Yoongi sure hopes it’s the latter. 

And he’s determined to find out, once and for all, tonight. 

You’ve just lit the candles that sit inside yours and Yoongi’s pumpkins when you hear the knock at your door. 

You’re sure that Yoongi can hear you from a mile away as you scurry towards the door, white platform heels clapping against the floorboards with every step you take. You’re going to have to practice walking in these a bit more. Maybe you shouldn’t have bought them only a week before Halloween, and maybe you should have at least tried to break them in a little bit. 

“Hello?” You swing open the door. 

“He—whoa,” Yoongi begins before his eyes widen to the size of the moon as he fully takes in the sight in front of him. “What’s with the—uh, the… dress?” He’s scratching at the nape of his neck, eyes sweeping up and down your body. 

You hold out the skirt of your sequined, bedazzled dress as best you can, and grin. “I’m a gogo dancer! What do you think?”

“Wow, I—” Yoongi starts, a little speechless. “I don’t know. Wow. You look… you look nice, Y/N.”

You smile, thankful for the compliment. Yoongi seems weirdly breathless, blinking more often than usual, like he’s trying to convince himself that what he’s seeing is real. Although, you will admit that this dress is much more sparkly than anything else you have in your closet. You reckon a few disco balls were sacrificed to make this costume. 

“Why—uh, why did you call me over? Did you need something from me?”

“Actually, yes,” you say, ushering Yoongi into your apartment. 

As he’s walking inside, Yoongi notices the pumpkins sitting on your windowsill. “Hey, those look cute together.”

“Don’t they?” You say proudly. Nobody else has commented on them, but then again, you live on the fifth floor of your apartment, so you don’t imagine many people can even see them from ground level. But it’s nice to know that they’re there, and that they mean something. Not to a whole lot of people, but to you. And to him. “But that’s not why I asked you to come over.”

“Why, what’s up?”

You freeze when he looks up at you, like you can hardly will the next few words to come out of your mouth. They’re stuck at the dam of your lips, refusing to budge, because there is this tiny, this little part of you that doesn’t even have the courage to ask. To say it. Because you know already. 

“Hoseok’s throwing a party tonight—”

“No.”

“You didn’t even let me finish!”

“But I know what you’re going to say,” Yoongi says like it’s obvious, because it is. “You’re going to ask me to come with you. And I don’t know how many times I have to tell you this, Y/N, but I am not going to go. I’m just not.”

“But it’s not a shitty frat party or anything!” You exclaim, desperately trying to dig yourself out of a hole you’re already six-feet in. “It’s at his place, an apartment across campus, with just some friends of his. There won’t be crazy music and sleazy guys and jungle juice. It’s just going to be a house party.”

“I don’t care, I don’t want to go,” Yoongi tells you. “There’s nothing you can do to change my mind.”

“Why? Why won’t you go?” You demand, because the least your best friend of nearly four years could do is give you a real reason. A real reason as to why he hates Halloween, why he never wants to celebrate it with you, why he never wants to go out with you on your favorite night of the year. 

“Because I just don’t want to! Why can’t you just accept that? I don’t want to go!”

Silence. It’s almost as if Yoongi’s shocked he was even speaking so loudly in the first place. 

Next to you, the candles flicker. 

“I don’t get it,” you say, resigned. “I don’t understand. This is our very last year to celebrate Halloween as college students, as best friends, and you can’t even give me a real excuse as to why you won’t come with me.”

Yoongi frowns. “What do you mean, ‘a real excuse’?”

“Exactly that,” you say sharply. “A real excuse. Even when I offer for us to just stay in and eat KitKats and watch a shiity movie you refuse. All because it’s Halloween. I don’t get it. It’s not the crowds, and it’s not the drinks, and it’s not even the other stuff, like the pumpkins and the decorations. Is it me? Am I the reason you don’t want to celebrate Halloween?”

“No, what the fuck, it’s not you!”

“Then what is it, Yoongi?” You plead, not even making an attempt to lower your voice. Can’t he hear the sheer desperation in your voice? The hopelessness? “Why won’t you just tell me why you don’t ever want to celebrate this goddamn holiday with me? Is it my fault?”

“I just don’t!” 

The sound of Yoongi’s shouts echoes throughout your living space, bouncing off of the walls. You look back at him, feeling helpless, but he doesn’t look angry, or enraged. He looks exhausted. Like this conversation has knocked the wind right out of him, stolen the breath from his lungs. Like suddenly the pot has boiled over, only it’s extinguished the flames that kept it burning. 

“I just don’t,” Yoongi repeats, fists clenched tightly by his side. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

He gives you one last tired look, matching your own defeated expression, before turning around and walking out of your apartment. The door shuts firmly behind him, neither a slam nor a gentle stop, leaving you stranded in the middle of your living space, watching his silhouette disappear. 

You sigh. You don’t think Yoongi will ever tell you why he hates Halloween. And while that may be no fault of your own, you can’t help but feel like it has something to do with you. 

Yoongi could probably count the amount of times he’s gone to a frat party on one hand, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t already know everything there is to know about them. In his eyes, once you’ve been to one, you’ve been to them all. 

Still, he supposes that it being Halloween makes this one a little different. Everyone’s in some sort of costume, whether it be good or bad or just plain old lazy, and there are at least a few orange and black decorations lining the walls of the Castle, and they’ve curated a playlist with Halloween songs as well as rap songs Yoongi has heard plenty of times before, so for once, Yoongi will give the fraternity a bit of credit when it comes to their Halloween party-planning. 

Beside him, you take another giant chug of your drink from the orange solo cup in your hand, wincing as the alcohol burns your throat on the way down. 

“Hey, take it easy, okay?” He says, though he doubts you can even hear him over the music, loud in the kind of way that his ears are going to be ringing far into tomorrow morning. 

“I’m fine!” You shout back, even though you are definitely not. The entire room reeks of a mixture of vodka and sickly sweet soda. 

“I just want to make sure you’re not overdoing it!” He tells you as the two of you get shoved together from some massive guy pushing past Yoongi and sending him crashing towards you. He catches a glimpse of the contents of your cup, eyebrows raising when he sees that it’s almost empty. You just got that drink five minutes ago. 

You smile. “I’m not!”

The song changes, and Yoongi swears that he can feel the entire house shake as everyone screams, cheering as they bounce up and down, dancing to the beat. Next to him, you are finishing the last few drops of whatever’s in your cup, finding an empty ledge to place it down on when you’re done, and pulling him in close to you. 

“Let’s dance!” You shriek excitedly. 

And who is Yoongi to resist?

He lets you take your hand in his own and parade him around the tiny little space the two of you share, a couple square feet of freedom in this crowded room, chock full of sweaty bodies just like his. Yoongi may not have had as much to drink as you, but the little bit of alcohol in his system is already shutting down normal mental processes like not-staring-at-you-constantly and pretending-that-he-likes-you-just-as-a-friend, sending him into a tizzy whenever he meets your starstruck eyes.

Even in this dingy, sweaty, unventilated fraternity living room, you are beautiful. You are beautiful here, and you are beautiful at three in the morning after twelve straight hours of studying, and you are beautiful after spilling the dining hall’s chicken noodle soup all over yourself. 

God, you’re the only person Yoongi is looking at in this room. You’re the only person he sees. 

Shaking his head, Yoongi abandons those thoughts as the song comes to an end, a hand wrapped around your wrist as he leans into your ear. “Do you wanna go outside? It’s hot in here!”

“Okay, whatever!” You agree easily, too easygoing after you’ve got a few drinks in you. 

Yoongi grabs a hold of your sweaty hand and tugs you towards the back door, one that he thinks leads to a fenced in backyard. You squeeze through the crowd, getting a couple of drinks spilled on your shoes on the way until you reach the back door and Yoongi fumbles with the knob, shaking it a couple of times before it gets loose. Eventually, the two of you stumble outside into the backyard, where a couple of people are playing beer pong and a couple of others look like they’re making out. 

It’s a frat party. What else did Yoongi expect?

It’s the end of October, and Yoongi doesn’t even have on a jacket, but the chill of the night has little effect on him after being in a room that’s felt like one hundred degrees for an hour. Out here, Yoongi feels like he can finally breathe. 

“It’s kinda cold out here, don’t you think?”

Yoongi doesn’t even have time to respond before you’re wrapping yourself up in him, curling into his body and placing his arm around your figure, letting the heat from his frame radiate onto your skin. 

“Better than being in there,” Yoongi reasons. 

“But aren’t you having fun?” 

He looks down to see you looking up with him with big, wide eyes, like you’re afraid that he isn’t having fun, or afraid that you’re enjoying this night more than he is. It makes him smile. “With you, I am.”

You grin at that, turning back to face forward, head pressing into the crook of his neck. “That’s good to hear,” you tell him. “It seemed like you were kinda nervous.”

“Nervous?” His voice cracks as he says it. Fuck. 

“Yeah, is there something you wanna tell me? It looks like you’ve been dying to say something all night,” you comment mindlessly, clearly much more observant now than you are when you’re sober. Or perhaps, Yoongi’s just more obvious. 

He takes a deep breath, pressing his eyes shut tightly. This is his chance. He knows it. 

“Actually, yes, there is,” he says, and it feels like he has to force the words out of his mouth because they’re refusing to come out on their own, pausing at the edge of his lips. It feels like he has to overcome his own mind in order to tell you, feels like every word is a sucker punch to his lungs. 

You pull away from him, looking up at Yoongi with big, blinking eyes. It’s a clear night, and Yoongi knows because he can see the fucking stars reflected in your pupils, see them twinkling as your glossy eyes gaze back up at him. You look up at Yoongi and God, you are just so beautiful. You are beautiful, and Yoongi wonders, then, if you know. If you know how Yoongi looks at you. If you know how he feels about you. He is so in love. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out. You are beautiful and he is so in love, and he’s been dying to tell you that and this might be his only opportunity to do so, because tomorrow will be a new day and Yoongi won’t have the guts tomorrow. This is his only chance. 

You deserve to know. 

“Well?” You ask him. “What is it?”

Yoongi wraps his arm around the small of your back, pulls you into him, and presses his lips to yours. 

Hoseok’s party is fun. It’s definitely one of the better ones you’ve been to in your four years of university so far. There aren’t too many people, and the drinks are actually good instead of just burning your throat, and his music taste is impeccable. 

And yet, you don’t think you’ve ever been so unenthused at a party in your whole life. Thriller by Michael Jackson blares from Hoseok’s television speakers, chatter fills the room, and Hoseok’s girlfriend, Haebin, is constantly checking up on you, but never has one place felt so empty. 

It’s not really very difficult for you to wonder why. 

“Hey, Y/N!”

You whip your head around to find Haein standing by the kitchen table, gesturing towards Hoseok as he’s looking up the recipe for a drink he wants to try. 

“You want one? Hoseok’s trying to make Long Island Iced Tea,” Haebin asks. Next to her, Hoseok is struggling to get the measurements right. At least he’s making an attempt. 

You stare down at your nearly-full cup of strawberry daiquiri. You took one sip when Haebin first handed it to you thirty minutes ago, and haven’t touched it since. “No, I’m alright, thank you.”

Haebin sighs, patting Hoseok on the back encouragingly before she makes her way over to where you’re sitting on their couch, pressed up against the arm of the sofa as you mindlessly swirl the drink around in your cup, eyes zoning into the whirlpool you’re creating. She sits down next to you with a smile, with the kind of look on her face that makes you simultaneously thankful for and dread the conversation you’re about to have.

“Hey, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing, I’m fine.” You don’t even believe yourself when you say it. 

“Listen, you don’t have to tell me. I just know that Halloween is your favorite holiday and I was wondering if there was something getting you down tonight,” Haebin says in that comforting, gentle sort of way, like an old friend who knows all your tells. 

“It’s not a big deal, really. I think I’m just out of it tonight,” you say, not drunk enough to divulge more information but also not sober enough to keep your mouth completely shut. 

Haebin smiles at you, lips pursed. “Alright then. If everything’s alright.” She pushes her hands onto her thighs as she gets off of the couch, heading back towards the kitchen to help Hoseok figure out how to mix drinks. But before she leaves you alone, she turns around and says one more thing. “You know, I don’t know why Yoongi’s not here or anything, but I wish that he was. You always look so much happier whenever he’s around.”

And that just sends your mind into meltdown. 

Defeated, alone, and best friend-less, you place your cup down on the end table to your left and get up off of the couch, beginning to gather your belongings, your coat and your shoes and your bag, tugging your arms through the sleeves as you storm towards the door, eyebrows knitted together, lips pursed.

“Hey, where are you going—?”

“I gotta go, Haebin. I just—” You pull on a shoe, tugging at the boot as it slips over your heel, “—I gotta go. Thank Hoseok for me, okay? I have to go.”

You only have time to catch Haebin nod, wordless, before you tug open the door to Hoseok’s apartment and stomp outside.

This is the worst Halloween of your life, bar none. The time when you were four and you tripped over a curb on the sidewalk, spraining your ankle doesn’t even come close. It’s your very last year to celebrate Halloween as a college student, to celebrate it by getting dressed up in a low-effort costume and spending time with your friends, and your best friend isn’t even here. He refused. 

He refused and you still don’t know why, but worst of all he refused and you still wish he was here. You wish you could have spent time with him tonight. More than anything else. You wish you could have spent the night wrapped up together on your couch, or on your bed, watching your favorite television shows and enjoying each other’s company. You wish you could have curled into his body as the television blared, pressed your head against his shoulder and felt the warmth of his skin on yours. God, you wish you could have. 

You wish you could have told him. 

You wish you had the guts to. 

Twenty minutes later finds you outside one of the dozens of frat parties likely occurring on campus right now, the bass from the music so loud that you can feel it in your eardrums even outside of the building. No part of you wants to go inside something like that, but at this point you start to wonder if maybe hopping different frats is actually your best idea. Get a drink, get drunk, and then move onto the next one. Rinse and repeat until you don’t remember a thing about this terrible, awful night. 

As you walk along the sidewalk, you spot another student sitting on the curb underneath a leaf-less tree, a cheap black drugstore masquerade mask covering the top half of his face. He doesn’t seem to be having a particularly enjoyable night either. 

Normally, the last thing you’d want to do is sit down next to a stranger whose face is disguised, because who knows what could happen to you if you do, but there are at least twenty people surrounding the two of you, loitering outside the frat house in the hopes that they can eventually get inside. And honestly, you could use a fucking break. 

As casually as you can possibly manage, you take a seat next to the boy, a few inches apart from him as he looks up at you. You can’t make out too much in the dim light of the frat house, but he’s illuminated just enough for you to see his eyes widen at the sight of you. 

“You don’t mind, do you?” You ask. 

He shakes his head. 

You smile in thanks, shifting around where you’re seated on the cold cement, eyes drifting all over the place, from the houses across the street to the road to the people standing around, anything to avoid turning back towards the boy and initiating an even more awkward conversation. Sitting down, the world stops spinning, just a little bit. You didn’t have too much to drink at Hoseok’s, but it was enough to loosen your mind. 

“Can I say something?” You say loudly, turning towards the boy. 

It was enough to loosen your lips too, apparently. 

The boy stares back at you, silent. 

“I’m sorry, I just need to get this off my chest.” You close your eyes, breathing in and breathing out, feeling your chest rise and fall. “I am not having a great night. And I wish I was out here with another friend of mine, instead. He’s my best friend, actually. He just… didn’t want to come out tonight with me. But I wish he was here, because I love spending time with him, and I miss him.”

The words spill off of your tongue like lava from a volcano, bursting from your lips completely unfiltered. It surprises you, a little, how much you actually have to say. How much has been weighing on your chest.

You don’t expect him to respond. Truthfully, you can’t even believe you’re unloading all of your baggage onto him in the first place. Since when are you the type of person to tell other people about the tragedies of your life?

But then, he says, “You do?”

And it makes you wonder what else you’ve been keeping hidden. 

“Yeah, I guess I do,” you realize. “I love spending time with him. He makes every day brighter, turns everything he touches into laughter. And I wanted to spend time with him tonight because I actually thought he would want to. You know, we carved pumpkins together a few days ago. Of each other’s faces.” You force out a laugh. “We carved each other’s faces into pumpkins and he still isn’t here tonight. I wanted him to be here because he’s my best friend, and because he makes me so happy, and even other people are noticing what effect he has on me. Noticing how fucking happy he makes me. Because he does. I feel like I’m a better person with him. I want to spend the rest of my life with him and he’s not here and instead of going to look for him I’m sitting here telling you the sob story that is my life and I just wish—”

“Does that mean you love him?” The boy asks softly. 

“What?”

“Does that mean you love him?”

You turn to look at the boy, eyebrows raised, almost ready to deny such a thing, but when you open your mouth, nothing comes out. 

How could you say you don’t love Yoongi? Of course you do. He is your best friend. You never want to live a day when he’s not by your side. You want to spend the rest of your life with him. He makes you smile and laugh like it’s nobody’s business, brightens your day without even trying. Just seeing him is enough to lift your spirits. Seeing his face on the other side of your apartment door, all ripped jeans and Converse sneakers, hands wrapped in the sleeves of his hoodie, dark brown eyes blinking back at you, pink lips parted in a grin. That image you have of him in your head—it’s one you don’t ever want to forget. He is standing in your apartment, lips upturned, eyes crushed into crescents, smiling at you. He is mid-laugh, grinning from ear to ear at something you said. He is right there. 

“Well, yeah,” you say, because what else are you supposed to do? “I guess I do.”

Suddenly, your chest feels a whole lot lighter. 

The boy next to you smiles, the dim light barely illuminating his features, but when you look at him there is something so strangely familiar about him, about the way he blinks at you, about the peak of his Cupid’s bow, about how his lips are stretched into a grin. It couldn’t be him… could it?

But before you have time to ask, he is leaning towards you and pressing his lips atop yours, crashing your mouths together in a desperate, messy kiss. His palm presses against your cheek and you can’t help but sink into it, sink into the way his other hand curls around to rest on the small of your back, let yourself be engulfed by him. 

You’ve never kissed Yoongi before, but you know that this is what it must be like. 

You know, from the way your blood starts to sizzle, sparks rushing through your veins. From the way your heart is pumping, loud and clear in your ears, like it’s been jolted to life. Like a shock is running through your body. Like a warmth is filling you up, from the inside out. 

When you part, as Yoongi takes off his mask, he can’t keep the smile off of his face. “I knew it. I knew you loved me.”

“What are you doing out here?” You ask, positively shocked. “I thought you hated Halloween.”

“I do,” Yoongi confirms. “Or, well, I did, I guess.”

“Then what changed?”

“You. Us. We changed,” Yoongi says, motioning between your bodies. “I hated Halloween because it had bad memories for me. Nothing crazy, but, yeah. You don’t remember?”

“What?” Your mouth drops open. “What should I remember?”

“We kissed that night.” Yoongi begins, eyes shifting down towards the ground. Clearly recalling this is awkward for him. “Halloween, freshman year. Outside of the Castle.”

You don’t remember this at all. 

“Well, I kissed you and you kissed me, and I thought that we had established then and there that we liked each other. You know, like, really liked each other. But you were so drunk that night. I don’t know what you had, but you could hardly walk by the time I got you back to your dorm. Your roommate was furious with me.” He shakes his head at the memory, replaying in his mind like a movie. “And I thought, okay, we’ll just talk about this tomorrow. But you must have had a wicked headache or something, because I saw you the next day and you said—”

“God, whatever happened last night, I don’t want to know.”

It’s the middle of the day, the sun high in the crisp November sky, but you have been cradling your forehead ever since Yoongi last dropped you off, back at your dorm, when you were slowly starting to crash. 

“What?” His voice is hollow, empty. 

“Last night fucked me up real good,” you say with a huff, shaking your head. “I’m glad I don’t remember what happened last night.”

As Yoongi traipses back to square one, his heart shakes in its cage. 

“I guess you just didn’t remember,” Yoongi tries to explain, much to your horror as you realize that you and Yoongi have been crushing on each other hopelessly for three years extra without you even realizing it. “So, uh, yeah. That’s why I didn’t like Halloween.”

“You kissed me that night?”

“What?”

“You kissed me that night? Outside of the Castle?” 

A tingling on your lips. A faint feeling of warmth. You remember bits of that night. It was cold, and you were freezing in your costume. And you and Yoongi had gone outside to escape the crowd, and he said something, and then you said something, and then he—!

“Yeah.” Yoongi nods. “I did.”

“And I didn’t remember?”

“I mean, you were really drunk.”

Your shoulders sink, the thought of Yoongi, helplessly pining after you for three more years because he thought you didn’t like him like that, because he thought that the love you shared was one-sided, still sticking by your side as your best friend. At the thought of him deciding it was better to be best friends and keep that love hidden than tell you and risk it all over again. At the thought of him accepting what he thought was his fate. 

“I’m sorry,” you say. What else is there to tell him? If you had remembered, if you just didn’t say those words, if you had just told him how you felt, this would have all been so much easier. 

“It’s okay now,” Yoongi says, expression growing fond as he pulls you in for a hug, sad to see you so gloomy. “You love me and I love you. What more could I want?”

A realization dawns on you. 

Pulling apart from him ever so slightly, you quirk an eyebrow. “You know, you could have just kissed me again the next day, and then we wouldn’t have had to deal with all of this. Plus, you would have still liked Halloween.”

Yoongi scoffs, pressing a kiss to your icy cheek. “So what? I like it now, how about that? I fucking love Halloween now. It turned my best friend into my girlfriend. She’s the love of my life. We can celebrate every Halloween together from now on until the end of time.”

You grin, pressing a kiss back on his little button nose, pink from the cold. Finally. “That’s the spirit.”

↳ don’t forget to message me with any thoughts or feedback!

[dracosathenaeum]

Something Precious

Summary: You and Draco realise your feelings for each other when he ends up at the bottom of the Black Lake during the Triwizard tournament that you are a champion for.

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Slytherin!reader

Warnings: Some swear words

Word Count: 2,321

Requested by anon! I hope this meets your expectations 🥺 (I changed the wording slightly, so instead of Treasure, I used precious as it just fitted slightly better here, sorry if it bugs you :3)

“Don’t touch me you filthy little mudblood.” You sighed, why was it always you that had to stand up for the first years. You’d think that by now Draco would’ve gotten used to your scolding and would get bored of picking on the helpless first years.

“Draco! I told you to stop calling the muggle-borns that, lay off the derogatory terms you shit.” You were pretty much the only person (other than the golden trio) that would stand up to Malfoy. But you were however the only one in the school who he would actually listen to. The two of you basically grew up together so you were used to putting up with each other. By now you wondered if Draco only kept picking on the younger years to wind you up.

“I’m just calling them what they are, don’t be upset love.” He said with a wink and his signature smirk. You don’t know when it had started but somewhere along the line, ironic flirting had started between the two of you. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy it though.

“I’m not upset Draco darling; I simply want you to take that stick on the floor and stick it up your arse.” Draco flushing a deep pink was worth having to call him these ridiculous pet names.

“Thank you, Y/N!” the little Gryffindor squeaked.

“You’re supposed to be courageous right? Malfoy isn’t even scary, he’s very… ferret like.” And with a wink thrown over your shoulder to Draco, you were on your way. You weren’t by any means popular or well-loved by the school, it was more like you had their respect. You were still a Slytherin after all, you just stood up for the ones Draco and other Slytherins were especially cruel to. Simple name calling you could turn a blind eye to but the hexes and use of “mudblood” was just unnecessary.

That was probably why instead of boos, you simply got applauded when your name was pulled from the goblet. You weren’t in it for the ‘eternal glory’ you were just bored at Hogwarts. These deadly tasks sounded like something to get your mind off of everything, besides now that ‘The Chosen One’ was also competing, you had extra motivation to win the whole thing.

That being said… Potter tipping you off about the first task was probably the single worst feeling you’ve ever had in your life. The feeling of owing someone, let alone Potter, a favour. But he had saved your life, without his tip off you don’t know if you could’ve won that task. I mean it was dragons, DRAGONS. But your victory meant firewhiskey parties in the Slytherin common room for a week straight so you wouldn’t complain too much. You definitely kept it to yourself though, the thought of the rest of your house finding out you were saved by Potter made you shudder.

“Surprised you’re still alive Y/L/N, though I suppose someone has to beat Potter. His head is big enough.”

“Don’t look so happy to see me Malfoy.” Sarcasm dripping from you voice.

5 seconds of eye contact was all it took for you to be pulled into his arms, a breathe you didn’t know you were holding finally being released. You allowed yourself a couple seconds to enjoy to be held, it wasn’t often that you and Draco hugged despite having grown up together.

“I’m glad you’re alive Y/N/N, I need someone other than mudbloods to make fun of.”

“Shut up Malfoy, don’t ruin this.”

“Don’t fall in love with me yeah? I know I’m hot but you’re not really my type, though being a pure blood does help.” Smacking his chest, you pulled away from his hold. “God you are insufferable, now help me figure out how to work this stupid egg so I can tell Potter and not have to owe him anymore.” Draco was your one exception to the ‘tell no one that you owe Potter rule’ you set yourself, besides, you couldn’t hide anything from him. He’d find out sooner or later.

You had spent weeks with that egg, trying to figure out how to open it without the deaf-curdling screams. It was only when you convinced Draco to sneak you into the prefect’s bath (nothing in that dingy castle could compare to the prefect’s bath), that you figured it out. Though it took an awful lot longer to decipher it but being even with Potter again made every blood-curdling screech worth it.

The yule ball was a whole other catastrophe. Watching couples slow dance for hours on end sounded like utter hell to you, which is why you practically threw a fit when you were told champions had to lead the first dance.

“Draco stop laughing at me, they want me to dance; they want me, me to hold some guy against me and dance in front of 3 schools. I was content to stand by the food and make fun of the Weasley’s tattered robes or Potter’s awkward dancing but now I actually have to join in? I should just quit now.”

“You fought dragons Y/N; a dance is nothing. Besides we’ve been going to  balls for years, you should be used to it by now.” He did have a point, maybe all those long boring parties your parents would throw would finally serve a purpose for you.

“Pansy’s been trying to corner me for weeks, honestly I’d rather slow dance with your flat arse than hers. Besides, then we could make fun of Weasley together.”

You thought it over but not for very long, you knew he’d be the only one you’d willingly go to the ball with, well the only one you could tolerate for so long that is. Besides, the two of you had made it through countless balls together, what’s one more.

“Fine, but you’re buying me a new dress.”

“What? That wasn’t an invitation? I was just joking. Hang on, you have just as much money as me! Pay for your own damn dress.” You turned and made your way to the girl’s dorms, blowing a kiss towards the flustered blonde on the sofa. “Make sure it’s velvet or silk, nothing cheap either, else I’m telling you mother.”

And that’s how the both of you went to the Yule Ball together. Waltzing like you had done for so many years in the Malfoy manor and stuffing your faces, as you made fun of Ron Weasley’s robes and Potter’s pathetically sad looking face. Though you had to admit, Hermione was the focus of the night, no matter how good you looked in the dress Draco got for you, there was no denying all eyes were on her and the Durmstrang champion. As you climbed into the bed that night, a soft smile stretched across your face, the Yule ball wasn’t so bad with Draco as company you supposed.

===========================================================================

Which brought you to where you are now; stood in the freezing cold ready to dive into the equally freezing water. Calming yourself, you ran through your plan again. Cast the bubble-head charm, collect whatever ‘precious item’ Dumbledore was talking about and once you were out you would find Draco Malfoy and kill him. He had promised he would be there to help you prepare the night before; yet you spent the entire evening alone in the Slytherin common room waiting like some bloody girl being stood up.

You knew you weren’t traditional friends (if you could even call yourselves that) but you thought at the very least he’d be there for you when you really needed him. Swimming had never really been your strong point after watching your cousin drown during your childhood, but that was a story for another day. After all these years, you really thought despite everything he’d be with you when you needed him most.

The canon went off, startling you from your thoughts as you quickly cast you charm and dove into the water, taking a second to adjust to the freezing water and calm your nerves. You really should have learnt a body warming spell. You watched as the other 3 swam straight through the village and watched as Fleur was attacked by Grindylows. “Better her than me.” You thought.

You swam through the murky water and eerie village until you reached four figures afloat in the water. You swam toward them and recognised Weasley and Granger straight away, of course the golden trio would be making an appearance even here. Yet it was the mop of blonde hair that made your heart skip. ‘Something precious has been taken from you.’ Draco was your precious something!? You saw a young girl next to him, probably Fleur’s sister. Why was it Draco who was taken? Why wasn’t it your own sister who was just 3 years younger than you? God you were going to get an earful from the both of them after this.

Swimming closer you realised how gaunt he looked, you felt like you’d never truly looked at his face til this moment in time. Not even when slow dancing that night at the Yule Ball. He looked so different yet so similar to when you first met him at the age of 5. Both of your parents cooing as tubby little Malfoy held his tiny hand out to ask you for a dance.

For once he looked peaceful, rather than the sneer he always had at Hogwarts or his blank look at home around his parents and yours.

You slashed his bonds with a nearby rock, deciding to just get out of the water as soon as possible, you couldn’t bear to be in the water with your heart thumping this fast any longer. Turning to give one last look at Potter you could see the disgust on his face as he stared at the unconscious boy in your arms. You threw a glare and the rock at him before swimming away, feeling slightly sorry for the poor French girl left behind.

You were the first to break out of the water, Krum following shortly behind.

“What?? Where am I? Y/N?!” Draco spluttered, coughing the water from his lungs before wrapping an arm around you and keeping the both of you afloat.

“You can ask questions later, I’m exhausted, can you please just swim us back to the stands.” He didn’t need more instructions, knowing you hated the water, he pulled you against him as he swam straight for the closest stands.

Everyone cheered as the both of you were pulled from the water and wrapped in towels. You had won first place but that was the last thing you were thinking about.  

“Draco is your precious item? I always knew there was more going on between you two than you admitted!” You could kill Blaise then and there, you decided. Though you supposed the glare you received from Pansy was worth the humiliation, just a little.

“Y/N? What’s Blaise talking about? All I remember is Professor Snape asking to see me last night as I was walking to meet you in the common room and the next thing I know I’m freezing my ass off in the water with you. I mean is it even legal to do this to a student? My father will be hearing about this.” You could barely meet his eyes at this point, you were just as confused as he was, but you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at his last comment.

Did you have feelings for Draco? Sure, you grew up together and had a love-hate relationship the whole time but that was the extent of it. You didn’t like Draco, surely, you’d know right?

“Something precious was taken from each of us, Krum got Granger; Potter, Weasley; and Fleur got her sister. I guess Dumbledore thought your sorry arse was precious to me or something.”

“Oooo does my darling Y/L/N have a crush on me? I thought you- and I quote- hated the sight of my stupid face?”

“In your dreams Malfoy, now shut up I want to hear them announce me as the winner.” In reality you could care less about the announcement, just wanting to change the subject as fast as possible. Your eyes went to Potter, along with everyone elses, as he shot out the water like a bloody dolphin. You would give him credit where credit was due though, saving just Draco was hard enough, Potter had saved both Weasley and the Delacour girl.

“You know, if you wanted me all you had to do was ask? Obviously, I’m very attractive and my father is very important but don’t be intimidated-”

“Shut up you git.” God if he wasn’t going to shut his stupid mouth, you’d make him, one way or another. The ‘other way’ as it happened was you grabbing his face between your palms and pressing your lips to his.

Draco wrapped his arms around you to pull you closer, deepening the kiss. You giggled into the kiss as everyone around you cheered; you didn’t think you were a fan of PDA but after kissing Malfoy, you couldn’t care less. You pulled away and nuzzled yourself into him, the both of you still ice cold from the swim but hearts beating fast.

You never thought you’d get a boyfriend from this tournament but being there in his arms, despite freezing your ass off, you were happier in that moment than you had been in a long time. There was nowhere you’d rather be.

“Be my girlfriend?”

“Shut up and kiss me Malfoy.” You both smiled into the kiss, loving how natural it felt to be with him like this. Completely ignoring the winner’s announcements and instead focusing on how happy you felt. 

Life was looking more bearable by the second.

Well until you got killed by Voldemort that is.

I See The Light can be read as a loose sequel describing this moment

#A/N: I literally had the HP wiki page open the entire time, it’s my first time writing a changed story line, something with a proper plot. I hope it was okay, please let me know if I got anything wrong or if something should be improved! Also sorry for the crappy ending :33

Thank you for reading!

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