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pallasperilous · 5 years ago

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Boneless Wings

{AO3 version}

So, blah blah blah, it’s their standard-issue disaster: pack of dumbass witches (always with the dumbass witches. Where do they find the time for this shit? Somebody get these women signed up for a Peloton subscription or a macramé class or a vibrator of the month club, seriously, whatever it takes—), ancient curse, Castiel being the actual angel of stepping in it, nobody cares.

The point is, two hundred and forty-one hours of binge-worthy drama later, Dean and Cas are living in a semi-detached just a short thirty-minute commute to somewhere equally lame, Castiel has two literal-ass wings, and yes, Susan, they kiss now.

The neighbors are weirdly cool with it.

For those of you perving along at home, Dean could absolutely provide a list of the hundred or so ways that having a boyfriend* with giant fucking actual wings is super hot and/or awesome.

This is not that list.

(*you can just shut right the fuck up , Sam, because it’s either this or Dean will start saying lover. And nobody needs that. Nobody wants that.)

1. Bird mites. Holy shit.

2. Sharing a bathroom. The shower curtain rod, and consequently the security deposit, are early casualties. The medicine cabinet follows swiftly behind. Shower hijinks are not even an option.

3. Dean comes home one day from a gig and there is a giant plastic green turtle in the backyard. A closer inspection reveals that the turtle is actually a mule for about half a truck bed of industrial dust ‘n grit. It is, in fact, a kiddie sandbox. Dean points out that they do not, in fact, have a small child (FINGERS CROSSED), so...?

Cas then earnestly shows him an entire playlist of exotic birdy dust bath videos on Youtube.

Dean then earnestly shows him the garden hose.

4. The down just gets, like...everywhere. EVERYWHERE. How many times have Sam and Dean practically sold their kidneys for a single angel feather for some dumb spell to solve some pointless Occult McProblem? And now Dean is picking them out of his damn teeth every morning. (No, gross, not because of... Jesus, no, that is not a thing.)

On the upside of this one, Dean finally has an excuse to buy a Dyson, which he’s secretly always thought looked awesome. It is.

5. When Dean is scraping out the umpteenth canister of fluff he jokingly suggests they use some of it to supplement the tragically flaccid down comforter currently shaming their bed, and Castiel pitches an existential fucking sulk. Dean wants to experience happiness again, so he does not point out that it get ass-bitingly cold here this time of year, and decent bedding is not exactly inexpensive, and the Dyson kind of maxed them out on household purchases.

But whatever.

6. Castiel is indulging in what Dean thinks of as a sky pout when he flies right into a head-on with li’l Timmy NextDoor’s new Christmas surveillance drone. It dings the shit out of one of Cas’s left primary feathers (the scientific term is “those big motherfuckers”), which apparently hurts like a bitch. Cas is grounded for a few weeks after that and is cutely pathetic about it and at first Dean is absolutely down to kiss it better. By the end, Dean is almost ready to strangle Cas with his own necktie, but he has learned a lot of surprisingly interesting stuff about ancient Mesopotamia, like that it was super horny.

7. After the snow melts, Dean starts finding shit on the front step with the morning paper. It’s not even a good newspaper; Cas signed them up for the local fish-wrapper (or maybe it was Sam, before he fled for the hills— he occasionally breaks out in a “support local journalism” rash). The crossword puzzle is insulting, but the paper does at least syndicate Carolyn Hax, whom Dean secretly suspects of being an absolute wildcat in the sack, so he grudgingly expends the calories to bring it in every morning.

Anyway, at first the stuff he discovers crapping up the welcome mat is just shiny bits of trash — couple granola wrappers, some MGD pull-tabs, a few field-stripped twisty-ties. Probably just windblown, and he tosses it in the garbage can.

Then a couple weeks in, things start getting...grisly? It escalates real slowly, from a variety platter of mouse bits to squirrel à la power line and then half of a dry-aged raccoon and an opossum that has recently graduated from playing dead to professional dead-being. The neighborhood crows obviously love that their front step is now a roadkill café; Dean has to bat increasing numbers of them away with the kitchen broom in order to relocate their horrible snack to the edge of the nearest storm drain.

Then one morning there are like twenty crows and they’re in just the cutest little football huddle-up around what turns out to be a human fucking finger with a retro-fun mood ring still on the knuckle (it’s feeling: Sad) and Dean fully loses his shit.

Cas hears him freaking out and comes whomping out of the garage ready to, whatever, flap somebody to death maybe, but as soon as he establishes that Dean doesn’t need anything more than a fresh pair of boxers, he de-poofs a bit and assesses the whole human finger/crows situation in his usual infuriatingly unrushed way. The crows had mostly bounced up to the cable line over the house, safely out of brooming range, but one by one they start to drop down and hippity-hop back towards the world’s tiniest crime scene.

If Dean were five percent less freaked he’d be tempted to go inside and find out how much of a dent he can make in a six-pack before Castiel finally dings and spits out his results, but he isn’t, so he just stands there in silence clutching the broom like it’s a shotgun.

Eventually Cas says “hm,” and then he looks at the crows and makes some noises that sound like a spoon caught in a garbage disposal, and the crows make some scrawps and chuks back, and then one of them delicately noodges the tip of dead finger with its beak and then hippity hops back a foot or two, bows, and then they all fly away over the shitty little beige duplex across the street like they’re running ten minutes late to an important bird appointment.

Castiel stands up (Dean reflexively backs up into the doorway, as this involves Cas bomfing out his wings a bit for ballast and Dean has caught a blow to the nuts on more than one occasion), dusts off his goddamn slacks, pulls a plastic evidence baggie out of thin goddamn air or maybe his socks, and casually bags the finger like they’re doing a standard FBI wheeze. “So what,” Dean says, as Cas diligently zips the baggie, “the fuck?”

“Oh,” Cas says, blinking in surprise that Dean is still there and interested, “they think I’m their god.”

Dean kind of stares back at him, the six feet of dude and like sixteen feet of bird, and thinks sure, okay, but his face must still be stuck on “Tippi Hedren attic scene” because Cas puts a reassuring hand on Dean’s shoulder and adds “Don’t worry. I’ve told them I don’t require further offerings, and I reassured them that you’re my consort and were simply jealous of other potential mates.”

It takes Dean two weeks to come up with a response to that, but by then it’s become evident that no bird is ever going to shit on the Impala again, so he decides to just chalk it up in the win column and move on.

You know. The family business.

8. No matter how tightly he folds them, Cas can’t fit his wings through the definitely-not-up-to-code doorway of the wood-paneled family rec room in the basement, so Dean claims it as his man cave and dubs it the “No Fly Zone.”

Castiel doesn’t find this funny, but Dean really only uses it to fold laundry.

9. Transpo is an obvious issue. Cas can almost stuff himself into the Impala if he sort of reverse-cowgirls the back seat, but then the wingtips smoosh up against the windshield and Dean’s visibility is approximately zip. And, sure, Cas could fly himself anywhere they really needed to go, he’s basically a Chevy Of The Air, but sometimes it’s raining, and the seraph Castiel — Shield of God, Heavenly Soldier of the Lord, multidimensional wavelength of celestial intent, will smell like a wet fucking chicken for days afterward. Febreze does not help.

Dean spends a few nauseating weeks contemplating the purchase of — and here he learns that the human gag reflex can be conditioned, but never truly eradicated — a convertible. Once Cas brings up the possibility of a minivan or perhaps a station wagon (he’s taken to studying family motor vehicles with all the intensity of a birder with a life list) and Dean makes him sleep on the couch.

Dean gets his own living room rotation after he shows Cas a Craigslist posting for a very reasonably priced horse trailer. Castiel points out that it’s used and Dean notes that neither of them is exactly mint in original packaging either. Castiel points out that he’s not a horse, and after a few necessary but admittedly unoriginal jokes, Dean pulls up a website with an exhaustive photographic tutorial on how to convert a horse trailer “for the safe and sanitary transport of ostriches, emus, and/or cassowaries.” Cas points out that he’s not an ostrich, emu, and/or cassowary, and Dean counters that he clearly isn’t, because an emu would probably show a little more gratitude, and that’s how Dean learns that the couch has a broken spring under the left cushion. The transpo issue remains unresolved.

10. Dean keeps a pair of shop-grade safety goggles by his side of the bed. It’s not the sexiest look, but it turns out feathers are stabby as hell when encountered at a particular angle. Cas can do the healy thing, of course, but they learn the hard way that cornea perforation is not really a mood enhancer. On the bright side, Castiel accidentally corrects Dean’s incipient presbyopia, which means Dean doesn’t have to hold the newspaper at arm’s length anymore when he’s idly speculating what Carolyn Hax looks like below the neck. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away.

11. You’d think that, when you’re coming down from a time-limited but incurable curse that makes you feel like every cell of your body has its own cute little individual headcold — because you missed a hex bag due to the fact that you were preparing your legal response to Sam turning up to the hunt wearing a goddamn hair scrunchy, as if he were fresh off the set of a very special episode of Clarissa Explains It All — anyway, you’d think that being wrapped in the warm embrace of an angel’s wings would be nice.

But you would be wrong, because apparently your boyfriend has been out communing with the bees again, and those feathers pick up ragweed pollen like it’s their goddamn job, and guess what else angels can’t cure? Dean will take Motherfucking Seasonal Allergies for 600, Alex.

12a. One of the neighbors has that homesteading hippie brain disease that drives an otherwise normal-seeming person to brew their own beer and raise a bunch of chickens despite living within five hundred yards of a fully functioning Hy-Vee. There’s a week where one of the wee little velociraptors seems to be processing some kind of trauma because it starts yelling at dawn and keeps going until well past the hour that swearing is allowed on network TV.

When Dean finally hammers on the front door the next afternoon the neighbor apologizes with some extremely nasty home-brew (HIPPIES) and some absolutely devastating weed (HIPPIES!) and explains that “Ginger is going through a rough molt” and then he kind of nods his head towards Dean’s side of the fence where Cas is futzing around in the squash plants and stage whispers (this is a direct quote) “You know how they get.”

Dean is about to rip the dude a new one for comparing his immortal space-kaiju lover to a fucking Australorp yard pullet when Castiel pops his head up over the white pickets and breezily contributes “Bad molt, yes, those are terrible, Dean can tell you all about how insufferable I am those weeks,” and sometimes Dean just doesn’t know why he even tries.

12b. The less said about angel molt, the better.

Seriously, the freakin’ eyes-on-his-hands naked mole rat dude from, whatsit, Pan’s Labyrinth of Subtitles, would run screaming from this shit.

13. There’s a 4th of July BBQ Potluck Block Party and Dean’s inability to stand idly by while good meat is abused ( shut up Sam ) means he winds up manning the grill and dismissing the pretenders to set some strictly inedible things on fire. Cas hangs out next to him and uses his flappers to kinda whupf the smoke away from Dean’s eyes now and then, which rules. It’s actually a pretty chill event until Sharon and Don From Number 4267, The Green House With The White Trim, turn up with a giant Pyrex full of naked, still-marinating teriyaki wings.

Sharon And Don look down at their wings and then up at Castiel and then down at the wings and then up at Castiel and they are clearly teetering on the edge of a Midwestern politeness failure-based nervous breakdown. But then Cas, smooth as a margarine commercial, gently takes the dish from Sharon’s frozen hands, examines the contents for a silent moment, and says “it’s alright. They weren’t personal friends.”

He gets an extra burger for that one.

14. Cas keeps absent-mindedly trying to groom Dean — who, in case it still needs to be said at this point, possesses zero-point-zero feathers of his own — so he goes after Dean’s hair, instead. Dean has to stop him after his second hour of trying to straighten out a cowlick. “I don’t understand how you can steer properly with this deformity,” Cas says, as if it’s a genuine miracle that Dean isn’t constantly careening over ottomans like Dick Van Dyke. He’s even more horrified by Dean’s (frankly minimal) use of hair gel. “Jesus, Cas, it’s not like I’m drinking it,” he says, but then one time they have an epic make-out session shortly after Dean performs his masculine beauty rituals and there’s some smearage of various types of Product (tm) on the flappy areas.

And, sonuvabitch, for the next six hours Cas is spirographing around the house like he has a heavenly inner ear infection, and he only stops veering into the doorframes after Dean wipes down every. Single. Feather. With mineral oil and about eighteen clean shop cloths. Dean switches to something called hair wax, which costs thirty zillion times more per ounce and makes him smell vaguely like church, but is a lot less gloppy. The things we do for love.

15. Seating inside the house is a bit of a conundrum, too. Cas can kind of flop his wings out to the sides if he sits in the middle of the couch, but then Dean’s stuck on the recliner, which is basically in the next county. Bar stools are disastrously tippy, Dean’s lower back and hips have not endured mumble-mumble years of hunting just to be subjected to a damn beanbag chair, and, after a brief flurry of optimistic excitement, Dean determines that they’d have to take the front door off to get a massage chair in. He finds a swing online that if, he can get the hardware properly installed in the crossbeam, is rated for up to 500 pounds, so he texts Cas the URL so he can check out the specs. After half an hour he writes back —

CASTIEL: Dean

CASTIEL: I believe this swing is intended for sexual congress.

DEAN: ...

CASTIEL: I can infer from the ellipsis that you have spent several minutes attempting to draft a response.

DEAN: ...

CASTIEL: Dean

DEAN: it’s multipurpose

16 . On the plus side, though, big-ass wings make for a pretty good drying rack. He can get every sock in the house laid out on those suckers in a single round and, one episode of Dr. Sexy later, they’re perfectly dry and toasty warm, without any of the pair-busting casualties Dean has learned to expect from the apparently socknivorous dryer in the basement.

Dean assumes it’s just the product of good air circulation and body heat until he realizes that he hasn’t had to toss a pair for being too worn out in...maybe six months? So he asks Cas “Are your wings... healing the socks” and after an entire Abbott and Costello routine centering around heal versus heel, Dean determines that the answer is: yes, his boyfriend’s wings are channeling the almighty power of Heaven to magically repair the socks Dean buys at Target in twelve-pack bags. On sale.

This is actually kind of sexy, if Dean is being perfectly honest, so, you know what? It doesn’t belong on this list.

16. So nobody really freaks out or bursts into tears or calls the news or the FBI or anything when Cas goes out in public with him, which Dean is secretly a little disappointed about, because come on. (Maybe giant wings just reads as a gay thing? Was there an episode of Will and Grace about this that Dean missed back when he was ass deep in wendigos or something?)

But no. Dudes tend to just glance at them across the Home Depot parking lot, throw them the Mutual Dude Acknowledgement Nod, and say some shit like “Comic-con,” or “nice anime” in a knowing tone. Then they go back to rolling their carts full of gaskets or hammers or whatever back to their mom’s station wagon.

Little girls tend to go googly-eyed — Castiel seems to fall into the same category as a Disney princess, despite the stubble and the drabcore wardrobe, and Dean can’t count the number of times some mom has approached Dean at the grocery store (like he’s Castiel’s manager?? Which, okay...yeah, actually) and asked if they do birthday parties. The money would actually be pretty tempting if Dean weren’t five thousand percent sure that Cas would get them both arrested by launching into an anatomy lesson about duck sex or how God is a loser who favors relaxed fit jeans and Wild Turkey.

The worst is white ladies of a Certain Age, and it always seems to happen in the pudding aisle, for some reason. They either go cross-eyed with horniness and become indiscriminately handsy (Dean can’t blame them for the impulse, but also back off, Karen), or ask Cas for prayers for their cat’s chronic asshole problems (which Castiel WILL take seriously).

Worst of all is when some hippie spinster clocks them. This woman inevitably reaches right for the feathers and asks in a willowy voice if they’d ever consider turning some of them into dreamcatchers to sell at her studio, which is literally always named The Faerie’s Glen. Then Cas gets confused about why, exactly, a sixty year-old WASP in a peasant skirt would need to call on the infant-protection powers of an Ojibwe spider goddess, while Dean just wants to bite the lady’s fingers off.

Either way, it’s always a bad scene, and many fully loaded grocery carts have been lost to the fallout.

17. For some metaphysical reason Dean is too dumb to suss out but also too smart to question, lugging a pair of Cessna-sized flappers around this mortal dimension actually seems to tucker Cas out. He doesn’t need to zonk out every night, but he semi-regularly throws in the towel and actually crawls in with Dean for the duration.

This would be swell in theory, but the guy absolutely cannot settle the fuck down in less than three (3) human hours, which is the exact amount of sleep Dean requires to maintain his famously sunny demeanor. It’s not just ye olde tossing and turning — Dean can handle that, sharing a bed with Sam is like sleeping next to a kangaroo with restless leg syndrome — no, it’s a nonstop parade of little flippy-flappies and shiffle-shuffles and spontaneous outbursts of preening.

So Dean makes him a Baby Sleep Sack.

This is something Dean knows about due solely to one super dumb hunt involving a banishing sigil that had to be drawn in — he still feels like this had to be a misprint — human breastmilk, and that was obviously not happening. But the monster of the week wasn’t going to banish itself, so they wound up at the nearest Walmart, at 4am, picking up what turned about to be an unnecessarily generous supply of baby formula, along with a fresh box of shotgun shells because God bless America*. It doesn’t work, although “lots of stabbing” turns out to be a solid fallback plan, but the point is that while Sam was debating between Digestion Support or Neurological Development, Dean acquired an unprecedented familiarity with some of the products currently available to the sleep-deprived parent. So Dean finds some DIY Baby Sleep Sack knockoff patterns online and determines he can replicate and scale up the concept with some beach towels and duct tape, and the next morning he presents the lumpy but totally functional prototype to Castiel.

Initially Cas thinks it’s a sex thing (reasonable, it probably is), but once they clear up that misunderstanding, he’s obviously a little peeved by the concept of being swaddled as if he were a gassy baby instead of a deathless sky monster in a sexy dude-shaped can. But Dean must be giving off some serious man on the edge vibes because Cas grudgingly agrees to let Dean tape him up the next time he’s feeling dozy.

It’s real awkward and takes forever to get Cas bundled up right, and then he’s just kind of lying there on top of the sheets, like an enormous, grumpy baked potato.

“I could easily break out of these restraints,” he says in a pissy tone after Dean has crawled in and turned off the light, and Dean rolls over to tell him “no shit”, but then he has to stop himself because the guy is already asleep.

Eventually they upgrade to a version made out of some of those trendy weighted blanket things, a few yards of parachute silk, and a whole lot of velcro. The dude looks so damn peaceful that Dean is honestly a little jealous.

*he doesn’t, actually.

18. There’s a sunny afternoon that isn’t the usual Kansas is trying to murder you level of humid so Dean rolls the Impala out into the street for a wash. Cas helps him out a bit initially, although tragically not in a way that involves removing any unnecessary articles of clothing, but Deans sends him to grab a new tub of wax from the shed and he never comes back. After half an hour Dean needs a beer break and goes looking for him, expecting to find Cas lost in thought over whether Turtle Wax is made of actual turtles, or is made to put on actual turtles. Instead he finds Cas crouched on the shimmering pavement at the back of the driveway, sun beating down on him like it has a personal vendetta, and he’s got both wings stretched out real low above the ground. Dean kind of flips out because it’s the type of pose that just screams “stabbed in gut by angel blade” or “migraine from Hell, literally.”

Then Cas looks up, which pulls his wings up a smidge too, which in turn reveals that fully half a dozen neighborhood cats are lounging in the shady patch beneath his wings, spread out on the concrete like blobs of furry peanut butter. No, it’s actually eight cats. There are eight cats.

“Ling-Ling was feeling a little overheated,” Cas says, as if this explains everything.

And, you know what, at this point, it does.

19. Dean has faith that eventually Sam or Cas or the third demon from the left in the second row will turn up a solution for the whole business. Castiel will get to tuck those bad boys back into the secret wing-closet dimension and he won’t have to worry about getting stuck in stairwells anymore, or being reported to the FAA (again). Then they can finally pack up the house, plaster over the more egregious spots of drywall damage, and go back to killing things outside of the tri-county area. The whole thing has been a pretty embarrassing interlude for a couple of dudes who’ve kicked Satan’s ass multiple times — Sam is probably telling other hunters that they’ve been deep undercover to take out a nest of suburban vampires, or a pack of ghouls with mortgages, instead of vacuuming angel down out of the AC unit and considering a Costco membership.

And sure, there have been some...serious pluses to the situation (see: the other list), but, in his weaker moments, Dean has to admit that he’s kind of going to miss some of the goofy, irritating shit, too — like finding a six-inch feather in the veggie crisper (how? why?), or watching Cas fwap his wings out just in time to accidentally clothesline a jogger, or even the strangely compelling, sorta cheesy smell that starts to float around the house if Cas goes a little too long between hosedowns.

He has actually grown fond of this shit. Which is 100% the least sexy thing on earth, it’s some genuinely, seriously pathetic goo goo crap, and that’s why nobody will ever hear a fucking word about it. People will ask “so what’s it like, with the wings” and Dean will waggle his eyebrows suggestively and review the highlight reel over an inadvisable amount of rail whiskey. His secret’s safe with, well. Him.

20. Seriously though, the bird mites.

Gross.

#deancas #destiel #dean winchester #castiel #wingfic #or maybe...#wingsquick #spn fanfic #spn fanart #spn crack #sorry everybody #now with pictures!#pallasperilous art #pallasperilous fic #pallasperilous crack

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purpleyellow · 4 years ago

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Overload

NCT 24th member / Dream 8th member

Bee’s Masterlist

“Tyong hours is open”

a/n: Feel free to share your thoughts with me. Requests are open!💛

“I brought some sweets we can share during the movie. You don’t need to be scared to eat them since they’re from the store down the street” Bee announced, walking inside Taeyong’s room and dropping a few bags on the bed “Oh, and I think I borrowed Doyoung Oppa’s projector. He’s not home, so I’m not sure if borrowing is the right term to use”.

“Don’t worry, Doyoung would let you steal his room and thank you afterward” Taeyong laughed fixing himself on the bed, so he could watch her fixing the cables on the ground “And you have too much energy, what’s going on?”.

Shrugging on the ground, she mindlessly wiggled her extended feet covered in Hamtaro socks “Nothing, just excited to be here”

“Dream overload?” The boy giggled using the term they had made two years ago, and she shyly nodded without looking up from the already functioning projector.

Bee would tell him she had reached an overload of the other members whenever she needed a few hours away from them, even better if she was alone, to calm her thoughts and simply exist for a moment without having to worry about another person’s existence.

Over less than a year, moments like those were becoming rare, especially because the boys were better at knocking and letting her have her time, as well as take some downtime for themselves. Sometimes the dorms got so quiet, she doubted there were more people with her.

“I love them to pieces” Bee sighed poking a random button “But if I hear Chenle saying his dog might step on me one more time I might kill him”

“His dog is going to step on you?” Still laughing, Taeyong said it as if he couldn’t believe it, and she nodded.

“Yeah, and the thing is this tall” Holding her hand just above the ground, she looked annoyed at him “She weighs less than my pencil case for reference. It looks like a ball of clouds just jumping around and peeing everywhere”

“Now that would be an anime I’d be down to watch” Taeyong shuffled on his pillows and added mindlessly.

“What? Peeing clouds?” Bee frowned at the image of anime clouds with wide eyes and a blush running through them as they urinated on a camp field. Shaking her head, she tried her best to delete that image.

“Yeah, but instead of pee is rain. Or, I don’t know, iced tea” Thinking for a second he giggled “Maybe not my best idea, let’s forget about this one”

Getting up to set the projector on the end of the bed, Bee connected her phone to it and squeezed herself in between Taeyong and the wall. Her extended legs, still paddling as she scrolled down the Netflix menu.

“You know what I was thinking about last week” The question from Taeyong made her lock her phone and place it on the side “I still haven’t been a part of a Beeography”

“Oh,” Widening her eyes, she turned to him sitting on her heels “Sorry about it. I didn’t want to leave you out”

“Don’t worry about it” He laughed patting the pillow next to his “We can do it later when everything is calmer”

“Actually, about that” Bee sighed twisting her fingers “We’re not going to make more of them”

“Why? There’s only how many of them so far? Five?” Taeyong frowned making her shake her head and mumble “Four”

“And we have too many members left” Poking her sides, he leaned forward to catch her face, Bee looked up seemingly unbothered.

“But Oppa, we did make one with all the 00 liners so that was six of them in one go” She crossed her legs and finally leaned back on the pillow, the boys still watching her curiously.

“I thought you were excited about them, what happened? You already have the go from SM to make at least ten parts”

“I just feel bad dragging you guys to work on something during your breaks”

“Everyone is completely free to tell you no if they’re too tired” He raised an eyebrow and started chuckling at a memory of her practically sitting Yuta down to tell him she won’t cry if he denies it “You make sure it’s very clear whenever you ask them to participate in one”

“Well, it’s going to be harder to make them once the new year comes. I think it’s a good ending point right now.” She nodded reassuringly and Taeyong hummed “If anything happens, I can ask them to bring it back”

“I think you should eventually. Do it now and then, even if it is by yourself” His comment made her shoot up her head, shaking it in a no, and he giggled “Okay, don’t worry. But it is a good content to just give up on it”

“You can borrow it if you want to” She mumbled picking up her phone again and Taeyong frowned “I’m just saying, I won’t be mad if you feel like giving it a try”

“I don’t want to take it from you, I want to be one of the guests though” Facing her again, Taeyong saw her nodding and gave up on the matter “I’m just saying, don’t give up on it for nothing”

Sighing and dropping her phone, Bee looked ahead thinking for a few seconds before looking at him “I’m putting it on a break for a while. I just don’t feel like doing it for the time being”

“Valid point” Taeyong nodded and gestured to her phone “So, what movie were you thinking about?”

Looking sheepishly at him, she extended her phone with the browser open “Actually, I was hoping you had one in mind”

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cheri-translates · 5 years ago

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[CN] Gavin’s Ski Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

How could I possibly ignore it when you put “Gavin” and “spicy” in the same paragraph 😉

The date begins with MC and Gavin heading to a Snow Mountain Resort by car over the holidays.

I turn the camera towards Gavin and see his smiling profile on the display screen.

MC: You’ve been driving for so long. Are you very tired? You’ve worked hard.

Gavin: It isn’t hard work to be your personal chauffeur.

His eyes not leaving the road in front, his right hand reaches out to hold mine. His warm palm wraps around my fingers.

Gavin: Are you cold?

I smile and shake my head, but he still pulls my hand over to his lips gently and exhales on it.

His warm breaths encase my fingertips, and even my heart starts to feel a little numb.

MC: I’m going to put this portion into the vlog, or make a separate compilation of Officer Bai’s heartwarming moments.

Gavin: Sure, I’d also like to see it.

Gavin lets out a laugh as he drives into the scenic area.

The weather is cold so MC starts coughing.

Gavin: Are you okay?

Gavin hurriedly pats my back, pressing me into his arms.

MC: … [coughs] I’m fine, I just choked on the cold wind. I’ll be fine in a while.

Gavin: …

I hear something that sounds like gentle laughter.

MC: Are you laughing at me…

Gavin: No. It’s the wind’s fault, so I’m apologizing to you on its behalf.

With a smile in his voice, the cold wind blowing against my back stops in an instant, and I can more clearly feel the warmth emanating from his hug.

I can’t help but laugh.

Gavin: Would you like to sit in the resting area? It’d be warmer. I’ll come look for you after renting the equipment.

MC: You’re going alone?

Even without thinking, I immediately shake my head and grab onto his hand.

MC: I want to go with you.

Gavin looks like he wants to say something, but seeing the resoluteness in my gaze, he smiles and relents. We board the cable car towards the mountain.

MC is incredibly happy to be surrounded by the gorgeous scenery.

The most important thing is that I’m holding the hand of the most important person in the world.

Gavin: What’s wrong?

MC: Hm?

Gavin: You keep holding onto my hand. Are you afraid?

MC: [pouting] Don’t look down on me, this isn’t something to be afraid of~

She starts taking pictures of the scenery and shows them to Gavin. Gavin compliments her photography skills:

Even before Gavin finishes speaking, I take his hand into mine once again, holding it very tightly.

Gavin goes silent. The corners of his lips hook into a smile, and he responds by clasping my fingers tightly.

They finally reach the top of the mountain, and MC is glad that she accompanied Gavin because there’s a lot of equipment to carry.

She also starts to feel uneasy after seeing other newbies struggling to walk with their ski boards.

But when she sees Gavin dressed in all his glory, her feelings of unease vanish.

He’s looking down the mountain for the best path to proceed. He finds a suitable one and smiles. MC swoons for a little while.

Gavin starts teaching her the basics of skiing and MC thinks she gets it.

MC: Gavin, can you go down the slope in one breath?

Gavin: Do you want to see it?

MC: Mm, I want to. I’ve never seen you ski before!

Gavin: Easy.

She watches Gavin ski like a professional and enjoying himself heartily. Thinking it looks simple, she decides to start skiing on her own.

Although she starts off having fun, she soon realises that she’s going faster and faster... and that she doesn’t know how to stop. She sees Gavin skiing towards her from the side.

MC: Gavin get out of the way! Hurry and get out of the way ahhh-

As she awaits her tragic demise, she crashes into Gavin’s arms.

Gavin: I’ve got you. Are you okay? Why did you come down on your own?

Sensing the concern in Gavin’s tone, I hurriedly dispel his worries.

MC: The snow is a huge buffer, so it wouldn’t hurt even if I fall.

She turns back to look at the tracks left by the ski boards and realizes she actually skied quite a distance – she can’t even see her starting point. And she’s really proud of herself.

Gavin: Mm, you’re very talented. But it’s very dangerous…

MC promises that she wouldn’t be so reckless again.

Gavin: But it’s okay. You can have as much fun as you want. With me here, you wouldn’t be in any danger.

Gavin asks why MC wanted to try skiing in the first place. Turns out MC noticed how focused Gavin was when watching a skiing competition, and that he even ordered a lot of magazines related to skiing. Minor also mentioned that Gavin was considering buying skiing equipment.

Gavin: But you don’t have to accommodate to my interests… I’ve told you before. To me, no matter what we do, the most important thing is that you’re here. The most important thing is that you’re happy. So you don’t need to do these things.

Seeing Gavin look conflicted and utterly solemn while saying this, MC doesn’t know whether to laugh or cry.

MC: Of course I need to!

I lift my hand so he can clearly see my most genuine emotions.

MC: Why is it that after all this time, you still haven’t understood...

MC: To me, no matter what we do, the most important thing is that you’re happy. To me, your smile is even more dazzling. Your happiness is equivalent to twice my happiness!

MC: I want to accompany you to do the things you want to do. I want to accomplish your hopes for the future together with you… This is what I want to do, and it’s what brings me most happiness!

Gavin’s conflicted expression turns into surprise. He looks at MC while wanting to avoid her gaze at the same time.

I close the distance between us, stepping through the snow on the snowboards with slight difficulty. I lift my head and give him a light peck on the chin.

Gavin: [quick inhale of breath]

Gavin asks if MC wants to continue with skiing or do anything else.

Gavin: [laughs] I’ve never been happier than right now.

[Note: Included his voice clip in the link above to enhance your reading pleasure with his happy voice]

MC finally gets the hang of skiing after an afternoon of practice, but she’s still having difficulty turning.

Gavin is gorgeous and cool so he unintentionally attracts the attention of a number of people nearby who start cheering and clapping for him. Some people even stop to watch him ski.

Gavin: Are you tired?

MC: Not at all! Gavin, I managed to maintain my balance and haven’t fallen for half an hour!

Gavin: Mm, I’ve seen it. You can make turns already.

MC: …not really. It wasn’t an actual turn, the snowboard just went out of control.

Gavin lets out a laugh and looks towards the dipping sun.

Gavin: It’s no problem, you’ll get it after a few more tries. But it’s getting late, so we should head back.

MC: Mm.

Her legs are numb from the strenuous activity so Gavin casually carries her on his back <3

I’m not a small child, how could I let someone carry me like this…

I lower my head in slight embarrassment and press my head onto the back of Gavin’s neck. My breath mingles with his unique scent. Without realizing it, the corners of my lips lift.

Gavin: What’s making you so happy?

MC: Hm?

Gavin: You’re smiling.

MC: I’m not! You can’t even see me…

Gavin: I can feel it.

MC: You’re smiling too, aren’t you? Even though I can’t see it, I can feel it.

Gavin: [laughs] Mm.

They finally reach the car.

As though it’s a natural thing, Sweetheart Gavin removes her snow boots and sweat-drenched socks before taking out new ones from his bag. MC is touched by how prepared he is.

MC: Gavin, your hands are very cold.

Gavin: Sorry, I…

While he’s speaking, I’ve already reached out to take both his hands in mine, bringing them into my arms.

My slender fingers and small palms obviously cannot cover his large hands entirely.

MC: Even though my hands are small, I can still warm you up.

Gavin doesn’t say a word, but he gives me a nice smile.

I rub his hands gently with my fingers. He leans forward, tugging on his cotton coat to cover us both.

MC: You’re not cold?

Gavin: I’m fine.

Just then, I hear the sound of a growling stomach.

Gavin: …we should head back.

I bury my head in his shoulder and let out a laugh, then take my bag from the seat. Under Gavin’s stare, I retrieve a thermal lunchbox.

The lunchbox contains Yuxiang shredded pork and stir-fried chicken gizzard. She also takes out a thermal flask with hot ginger tea.

Gavin: Why didn’t I… know you prepared these?

MC: I prepared it while you were renting the car. I can’t always let you be the only one busying yourself. Try it? I specially asked the chef to follow your favourite tastes, even though they are pretty homely…

I take out a pair of chopsticks from the lunchbox. After picking up some dishes with the chopsticks, I bring them to Gavin’s mouth. He chews for a while before revealing an unexpected expression:

Gavin: It’s delicious.

Hearing such a satisfactory answer, I hand the lunchbox over to him so he can concentrate on eating. While doing so, I retrieve a travel journal from my bag.

After finding a comfortable position to lean against Gavin, I start planning for the remainder of our trip.

MC: Day 3, skiing, done! This way, we can spend the next two days viewing the scenery~

If the weather remains this good, the view of the Grand Canyon would definitely be amazing.

Gavin turns his head to look at the travel journal, then feeds me a piece of chicken gizzard.

Gavin: The Grand Canyon… was where I wanted to go. If you want to go to the town to walk around or to shop, it’s fine as well.

MC: Since you want to go, of course we’d go – sssss, it’s so spicy!

Gavin: Is it very spicy?

I nod, sticking out my tongue and gulping a few breaths, wanting to relieve the pain from the stimulation caused by the spiciness.

Gavin turns and leans towards me, his breath gradually coming closer until my cheeks feel their warmth.

His rough fingertips touch my lips, which have become slightly reddened from the spice. In a second, I can’t tell what is stimulating my senses...

I can only feel the weightlessness caused by my consciousness sinking along with the darkness around me.

After a brief rub, he chuckles against my lips.

Gavin: Is it still spicy?

In the dark space, I can feel the warmth of his breaths. I shake my head.

His fingertips brush my lips lightly, and he lifts the long hair that had blocked my vision.

Gavin: MC, you’re really not giving me a chance to accommodate to your wishes?

MC: [blushing] Not even one. You’re always accommodating to what I want. It’s so overbearing.

The sky has turned dark. I hear every single one of Gavin’s breaths, and feel their warmth on my cheek and the side of my neck.

He holds me in an embrace, and his low voice is mixed with his warmth and smile.

Gavin: Then I will make a correction now. Cancel our original plans for tonight... from this moment onwards, follow all of my commands.

[Note: Included his voice clip in the link above to enhance your reading pleasure]

#mlqc cn #mlqc #mlqc gavin #mlqc spoilers #love and producer #I’ve never heard Gavin laugh so many times in a date?!#happy Gavin is best Gavin #also I struggled to find synonyms for warm so I gave up

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diaryofabeautyfiend · 4 years ago

Text

Small Time Witch (32)

S I X M O N T H S L A T E R

Vanaheim had been kind to you but it was time to make your next move. Loki had been pardoned on Asgard. The convergence was nigh and preparations for Malekith had begun. Asgard was fortified as a precaution. You thought maybe Malekith wouldn’t bother since the entire universe knew you had the stones. The small council was not so sure. They wanted you locked away in a secure location where he couldn’t find you. You wanted to fight. That’s all you seemed to want these days.

Malekith and Frigga have long been enemies. His brute murdered her when the dark elves invaded Asgard. You would only hide if she hid with you. Being ever stubborn she declined. You didn’t tell her what would happen but, because of your insistence, she could guess. “If it’s my time, it’s my time. I won’t hide.” Everyone in this family was ridiculously stubborn. You fit right in.

Loki fought you ad nauseam about expelling the stones. You refused to even entertain the thought until the convergence was over. He thought the stones were overtaking you. They changed your personality. You argued they just made you stronger and perhaps he was threatened by you. That never failed to spur him into a tirade about how dangerous they were and how no one knew what they were doing to you. The voice in your head told you otherwise. He would prattle on about how they seemed to speak for you. How you had changed. You never listened.

“Mortal are you listening?” It drove you insane when he called you mortal. Just a constant reminder that you were beneath him.

“I am. And I’ve asked you to please stop calling me mortal.”

“Well aren’t you? Are you now unable to die? Have I missed something?”

“As long as I have them I am.”

“And that’s why you shouldn’t have them. Where is my wife? You were not this war mongering battle hardened warrior when I first met you.”

“You prefer me weak? Too afraid of my own shadow?”

He knelt in front of you to look in your eyes. “I have never known you to be weak, Y/N. You were powerful enough.”

You laughed but the smile on your lips never met your eyes. “Just enough that I couldn’t ever take you.”

“Stop it. That’s never mattered to me.”

“Until I became stronger than you.”

He picked up a pillow off of the bed and smashed it into his face. He let out a deep growl out of sheer frustration. “Your new found obsession with power is exactly why I am worried. They need you. They are like parasites and you are their host. You feed them, darling. Of course they don’t want to give you up.”

“And what if I do release them? What then? Do we just wait for the next maniac to use them against us?”

“Then we keep them locked in the vault.”

“Oh yeah, because Odin’s vault has never been breached.”

“Only by me.” He hated fighting with you. Absolutely loathed it. You kept putting off the release of the stones but he wouldn’t give up. You were scared they would fall into the wrong hands. He was afraid they already had. The only other person who was in your corner was Odin.

Loki knew his father all too well. He was not interested in what you wanted but what your power could do for him. He treated you like his own sentient weapon. Your daddy issues completely clouded your judgement in regards to Odin. He doted on you. Called you his daughter. You lapped it up. When Loki or Thor would say something he would laugh it off and say they were jealous that he had a new favorite child. After Asgard was safe, they thought it was time for you to go back to Midgard for a while for an extended holiday. Maybe your family could talk some sense into you.

“My love. My little queen. Please don’t be cross with me. I am simply worried for your safety and sanity. Don’t you want to leave all of this behind? Perhaps we can start our family. I’ve longed to see you with child.”

Your voice was quiet, “That’s not my dream. It’s yours. You know how I feel about having children. Can’t we just go on forever having adventures?”

“Pet, I have had my fun. I just want to start a family and be settled. I don’t care if I ever ride into another battle. Children or not, I just want this constant upheaval to end. I quite liked our life on Midgard. I actually miss television. Why don’t we go back and rebuild our little cottage? Will you at least think about it?”

You kissed the tip of his nose, “I will. When this is all over, I will agree to take extended leave and visit my family.”

—————————————————————

The day Malekith invaded was like deja vu for Loki except he was not in the dungeon. The dark elves were unable to breech the outer reaches of Asgard so they moved on to Greenwich where he and Thor would meet. Against your better judgement (and certainly Loki’s), you jumped the portal to help Thor. You served as nothing but a distraction. Thor was nearly crushed by Malekith’s ship. Had it not been for Dr. Selvig, Thor would have been killed.

Your magic destroyed half of a library and a lot more property. When law enforcement arrived they thanked Thor for his help. You, on the other hand, were put in shackles and taken into custody. Thor tried to stop them but they were under strict orders from the World Security Council to take you in.

You tried to break free for your bonds but your magic wouldn’t work. “Stop resisting, Princess.” one of the Interpol officers shouted. They didn’t have regular guns pointed at you. They looked like ray guns or something you’d see in a sci fi movie. Thor rushed behind you asking where you were being taken. They muttered something about an Air Force base as officers held him back.

“I’m coming, little sister! Just hang on.”

They had you locked in the back of a van that was caged and padded. A thick metal partition separated you from the driver. The doors on the back were also thick metal. Three officers wearing helmets rushed in in a practiced military style drill. Keeping their weapons trained on you, one officer stood in front of you and pressed a button that magnetized your restraints. He stuck your hands to a small but sturdy loop on the bench you sat on. Another officer put a mutant inhibitor collar around your neck while the third jabbed a needle in your arm. ��Nighty night, Princess.”

When you awoke your head was pounding. There was a jumpsuit on the small table next to you. On the floor were socks and slippers. The collar was pretty heavy and seemed to grab at your skin when you pulled. “It won’t come off Mrs. Odinson” a voice said. There was a speaker just above the door.

“Where am I?”

“Change into your jumps.”

“Where am I? Don’t make me ask again.”

“Change into your jumps, prisoner.”

You tried to use your magic but only a tiny spark flickered between your hands.

Your cell doors opened and a familiar face stood in front of you. “Ma’am. I’m Coulson. Come with me.”

“Wait. Aren’t you...”

“Dead? As in your husband killed me? Yeah. Something like that.” He stood in the doorway looking at you expectantly. “Unless you’d rather stay here.”

You followed behind him flipping off the speaker when you left. “Can you remove this collar, Coulson?”

“Please forgive me if I’m not super trusting.”

“Understandable I guess. Where are you taking me?”

“New York. Into S.H.I.E.L.D. custody. It’s the only way the US government will release you. Part of the MCA.”

“MCA?”

“Mutant Control Act. You’re an unregistered omega level mutant. Your powers, as defined by the government, are unlimited. You’re dangerous.”

“So when I’m on Earth, I am a prisoner?”

“When you’re on Earth? You think you’re leaving? You belong to us now.”

He took you along to an airstrip where you boarded a small plane. He helped you into your seat, shackled your wrists and ankles and bid you a safe flight.

——————————————————————

Thor was too scared to tell Loki you were captured. He would have been pissed at the both of you. If he thought you were in danger he would rip Midgard apart to find you. The only person he knew to contact was Steve Rogers.

In Tony’s infinite wisdom, he named Steve his successor of sorts. He called him the Chief Moral Compass of the company. That gave Steve all kinds of contacts and diplomatic immunity in 46 countries.

Steve met your flight at the base in New York. Coulson was thrilled to see Steve again but he wouldn’t release you. He got into the backseat and went with you to the facility where you’d be staying.

You waited for several hours in a holding room. You hadn’t eaten in a couple of days and your body was exhausted without the stones to prop you up. You fell asleep with your head on the table. Finally Steve came in to wake you.

“Hey, Y/N. You’re free to go. Get this collar off of her now!” he said to an agent.

“Can we grab something to eat? I haven’t had anything in a couple of days.”

He planted his hands on his hips and clenched his jaw. You were freaking Asgardian royalty and a human being. Surely that earned you some respect. He was livid. “Seriously, guys? You couldn’t have gotten her food? My apologies, Princess.”

“I would kill for a slice. Ever hear of Joe’s Pizza in Brooklyn?”

He smiled, “Best in New York. How do you know about that place?”

“I was in love with a guy from Brooklyn once.”

“Yeah? What happened?”

“He couldn’t handle who I was.”

Steve chuckled to himself, “Then he didn’t deserve you.”

——————————————————————

Pending a hearing, you were released to your mother’s care. You absolutely could not prevent Loki from coming any longer. When he landed you were sitting in the open space where your house would be built.

“This is the perfect spot isn’t it?” You were picking blades of grass and letting them fall through your fingers.

“Afelheim has ample space for cottage building. No cable though. I guess this rules out our extended holiday.” He sat next to you and you rested your head on his shoulder.

“I think this is our extended holiday. My hearing isn’t for another month.”

“You know what you did was careless and stupid right? Also incredibly arrogant. Thor didn’t need your help.”

“I know. I don’t know what came over me. It’s like I wasn’t thinking.”

“You weren’t. The stones were. While we’re stuck here, I’d like to get as many people as possible involved in removing them and healing you. That’s even if you can be healed. Your body could be riddled with cancer like poor Jane.”

“Well I’ve saved her from that fate.”

“Not yourself. If I lost you....”

“You’re not losing me.”

You snuggled against him and he kissed the top of your head. He no longer tried to hide his feelings from you. He was afraid. You just found each other again and he was afraid he would lose you. The old Loki would have run screaming. This Loki would fight for you. And, if he had to, he would follow you into Hel. Maybe he was selfish in that regard. He lost you once. Never again.

#loki of jotunheim #loki fanfic #loki of asgard #loki odinson #loki x you #loki x reader #loki smut #witch #mcu witches #small time witch

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lady-divine-writes · 4 years ago

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Klaine Advent Drabble 2020 - “To Tree or Not to Tree” (Rated NC17)

Summary: When Blaine tells Kurt that they're going out to "get a tree", Kurt never imagined they'd be trekking up a freezing cold mountainside to chop one down. (2820 words)

Notes: A re-vamp for the @klaineadvent Drabble Challenge 2020 prompt 'farm'.

Read on AO3.

“Oh. My. God!” Kurt groans, hopping out of his SUV and sinking up to his ankles in snow. “I thought you were kidding about this!”

“Nope.” Blaine rounds to the hatch of Kurt’s Navigator and pops it. He unzips a duffel he brought with, one Kurt had hoped was filled with fun surprises like a picnic lunch that they could enjoy in the vehicle with the heater blasting before they braved the weather to get their Christmas tree from a quaint but upscale tree farm, the kind that smells strongly of cinnamon pine cones and which offers customers plastic flutes filled with sparkling cider as they pass over the threshold into an idyllic Winter Wonderland lit by twinkling white fairy lights beneath the cover of a gigantic canopy.

He’d dressed entirely in brands that Vogue recently featured in their center spread and had planned on snapping a few shots for the website - kill two birds with one stone. He’d even lent Blaine a few pieces he’d squirreled from The Vault. He could see the whole layout in his head. Behind his eyelids, the slideshow of images he had planned was fabulous.

But no.

Disturbingly, Blaine pulls out a wood-handled ax, along with a pair of safety goggles; thick, brown gloves; and some rope. He holds them up for Kurt to see. “Totally not kidding."

“Do we really have to cut down a tree?” Kurt asks, watching Blaine gear up, a one-man wrecking crew, leading Kurt to the conclusion that he should stay at the SUV and let Blaine go on this ridiculous errand alone.

“Yes, we do.” Rope looped over his arm and dangling across his chest, Blaine hoists his ax over one shoulder and begins the journey, carving a neat path up the slowly rising incline as Kurt follows behind, contemplating his options. He has the keys. He could definitely implement the stay behind and keep the heater company fantasy. But there is the small matter of he loves Blaine. He would be miserable and lonely waiting hours in the SUV without him. Besides, considering how well Blaine fills out those North Face pants and Carhartt jacket, Kurt sees how he can make this work in his favor. The new outdoorsman, who can go from big city to big country in the blink of an eye (courtesy of the right separates).

He’s not married to that headline, but he can hash it out as he goes.

“You do know there’s a Christmas tree farm right there,” Kurt points out, raising his voice to be heard over the howling wind. When Blaine peeks over his shoulder, Kurt throws out an arm in the direction that they came. Past the snow-covered asphalt lot, where Kurt’s SUV is currently one of five cars parked, stretch miles of evergreens, cut down and mounted onto wooden stands, waiting to be plucked, flocked, and paid for.

“Cutting down a tree has been a tradition in my family since before I was born,” Blaine says.

Kurt looks at him sideways. “I ... didn’t know that.”

“Yup."

"How did I not know that? We've been married for three years!"

Blaine turns a full circle as he walks and gives Kurt a wink. "I guess I'm just full of surprises."

"You're full of something," Kurt mumbles under his breath.

"It's a tradition," Blaine continues, unaware of his husband's grousing. "One I want to hand down to our children someday.”

“Can’t we get them a pony instead?”

“I recommend not stomping up this incline,” Blaine advises, changing the subject, “or you’re going to exhaust yourself. I’m not sure I can carry you and a tree back down this mountain.”

"Hmph. Not with that attitude, you can't."

It’s a crisp December day, almost too cold to bear. The difference in temperature between the city and where they ended up is so drastic, it’s hard to believe they’re still in the same state. A perfect day to sit by the fire while binge-watching Netflix, with a cup of hot cocoa beside a beautifully decorated Christmas tree. Kurt had everything he needed to make that happen, too, except the tree.

Kurt and Blaine had yet to have a day off together to pick one out.

So when Blaine came home, tossed Kurt a coat, and said, “Grab your keys! We’re getting a tree!” Kurt had been ecstatic! Until he discovered that Blaine’s idea of “getting a tree” wasn’t a simple matter of driving to a tree farm and picking out a decent six-foot Scotch Pine.

No.

Blaine had Kurt drive over an hour away from civilization to a place where there are no Starbucks, spotty WiFi, and no doors on the bathroom stalls.

The snow on the ground at this altitude is deep, becoming deeper as the slope of the mountain rises. And as breathtaking as the world looks from this elevation, Kurt hates everything about this. He hates the snow getting into his boots, soaking his three pairs of socks. He hates the wind that seems to purposefully sweep down the mountain straight into his face. Blaine walking ahead, right in front of him, does nothing to provide a barrier from the wind.

That’s because Blaine is loving this. And as a reward, the wind must be going right through him.

Blaine leads them deeper into woods that climb higher and higher. Even though the man who greeted them at the entrance, dressed in head-to-toe red flannel and brown corduroy, directed them up the mountain, saying this was the place locals preferred to get their trees, Blaine and Kurt don’t see anyone else past the tree line. The air gets thinner. The sunlight off the snow is brighter, blindingly bright, but it doesn’t offer Kurt or his rapidly chapping cheeks any warmth. He folds his arms over his chest and shoves his gloved hands underneath his armpits, but it doesn’t help thaw the tips of his fingers, which he can’t feel anymore.

“There are trees everywhere up here!” Kurt complains.

“Yeah! Isn’t it great!”

“Pick one! What are you doing?” Kurt gripes when they pass a swath of gorgeous trees and yet keep walking.

“I'm searching.”

“For what?”

“I’m looking for the perfect tree.”

“And what constitutes the perfect tree, in your opinion? Because from what I can see, we passed over two dozen perfect trees getting here!”

“When you see the perfect tree, you’ll know the perfect tree.”

Kurt has no idea what the heck that means but decides not to ask for clarification in an effort to get them off this frickin’ mountain and home quicker. Home equals warmth, comfort, and not succumbing to hypothermia. “Well, what about this one?” Kurt asks, pointing to a tree on his right.

“Ooo! That’s a good one!” Blaine says.

“Really?” Kurt asks, surprised that he got it right on the first try. Maybe he has a knack for this, like his knack for fashion. He does have an eye for aesthetics. “So this is the perfect tree?”

“Nope.”

Kurt stumbles. "Oh." He did not expect that answer. Eager to prevail, he points out another one. “This one?”

“No.”

“O-kay, what about this one?”

“Not quite, but good try.”

Kurt would throw his hands up in frustration, but his arms are locked in place, hugging his chest.

“How did you become the tree authority?”

“Years of practice.”

“If you’re the one with the tree picking knowledge, what am I doing here that I couldn’t do at home where we have eggnog and cable?”

“You get to marvel in awe at my magnificent strength and skill.”

“I can’t help but remind you that I could be marveling at your strength and skill at home while you hold me up against the wall in our bedroom and make love to me.”

“True. But seeing as we did that all of last night and Mr. Mulroney has the night shift tonight, I thought it would be nice if we let the poor man sleep.”

“The walls in our apartment are thin, aren’t they?”

“They really are.”

They pass through a tight cluster of trees and enter a small clearing, coming upon a scene right out of a Hallmark Channel movie. God rays shine through the foliage overhead, lighting a single tree in the center. In the quiet of this enclosed glade, Kurt can’t hear the whistling wind, and he immediately begins to feel warmer. All they need now are cartoon animals bringing them presents and an angelic choir singing carols and they’ll be starring in their own Christmas special.

It would be ideal, Kurt thinks, considering he’s a motherless child and he’s standing beside an elf. He puts a pin in it, with a plan to write up a treatment as soon as they get back to their apartment.

Provided he doesn’t lose any of his fingers before then.

Blaine tosses the rope aside. He walks reverently up to the center tree and stops in front of it. He opens his arms wide, ax clutched in his right fist. “Here,” he declares. “Here it is.”

Kurt looks at the tree in front of them, then at all the identical trees surrounding it. “Here what is?”

“Our perfect tree.”

“And what makes this tree any different from the sixty or more trees we passed hiking up here?”

“This one’s fuller, more symmetrical, with an almost pyramid top.” When Kurt doesn’t immediately agree, Blaine motions to the tree more vehemently, trying to get his point across. “It’s just more … more tree than those other trees. More Christmas …” Blaine turns to his husband standing off to the side behind him, arms crossed, head tilted. Blaine sighs. “You obviously don’t know your Christmas trees. If you can’t see why this one’s superior, I don’t know how to explain it to you.”

Kurt shakes his head. “Sorry.”

“You’ll see the difference when it’s up in our apartment.” Blaine grips his ax with both hands and gets into position. “Okay! Stand back!”

“You don’t need to tell me twice. I love you, Blaine, but I have no intention of getting anywhere near you and that instrument of death.”

Kurt takes a step back, then three more as Blaine hoists the ax behind him. Kurt fishes his iPhone out of his pocket, preparing to document what is either going to be the sexiest thing Blaine has ever done, or evidence for the investigators who might try to pin Blaine's grisly death on him. Either way, watching Blaine attempt to chop down a tree might actually be worth wet socks and a nightmare case of the flu.

Kurt holds up his phone with the camera app accessed, ready to film as Blaine takes his first swing, which, surprisingly, buries the blade a respectable depth into the wood. But it’s the pullback that gets Kurt, the way Blaine locks his feet in the snow, bends at the knees, and dislodges the ax. Kurt can’t see Blaine’s back through his coat, but he imagines the play of his muscles, the rise and fall of his shoulders, the cut of his delts showing through as they strain with effort. Kurt has seen Blaine naked over a hundred times, has watched the man make love to him in videos they’ve made. He envisions everything going on beneath Blaine’s clothes as he swings that ax … and the frigid air around him doesn't feel quite as cold anymore.

“Mmmm …” Kurt hits record and focuses his camera on his husband’s assets. After a minute of chopping, Blaine realizes Kurt has stopped commenting. He lowers his ax and takes a breather, catching the tail end of his husband's complimentary hum.

“Mmmm what?” Blaine turns, curious to see what Kurt has been doing that’s kept him quiet this whole time. He raises an eyebrow when he sees the phone in Kurt’s hands. “Are you ... recording me?”

“Maybe,” Kurt says, biting his lower lip. “You know, now that I get a good look at it, you did find the best tree on the mountain. And watching you cut it down is becoming a massive turn on. You being all lumberjack-ish is kind of hot.”

Blaine grins, leveling the ax over his shoulder. “Only kind of?”

“Well, yeah.” Kurt switches off his camera app and puts his phone back in his pocket, seeing a make-out break forthcoming. “The walk up the mountain took a lot out of me.”

Blaine leans his ax against the trunk of a tree and saunters up to his husband. “Well then … perhaps I can put something in you.”

Kurt snorts. “Okay, that’s cheesy as hell ... but I wish you would."

With a suggestive smile on his frosty lips, Blaine wraps one arm around Kurt’s waist and pulls him closer, his other hand reaching between them to fondle the bulge growing in the front of Kurt’s jeans. He tugs at the buttons of Kurt’s fly, and Kurt knows Blaine has more on his mind than kissing. He shoots an anxious look around their private nook. “What? Here?”

“Why not? We’re alone. There’s no one else around. No one will see us or hear us. You can scream all you want.”

“When you put it like that, it sounds like we're in a horror movie!"

"Is that your only objection?"

"No. I'm objecting because it’s freezing!”

“Come on …” Blaine takes off his gloves and begins unbuttoning Kurt’s wet coat, starting at the middle and working down. “I’m not going to strip us naked or anything. Besides, you’ll warm up in no time. You know what they say about body heat …”

“This reminds me of one of those bad amateur porn videos on the Internet. The ones that try to have a storyline, but the acting is so awful it turns into a comedy?”

“As a professional actor, I think I take offense to that.” Blaine nuzzles past Kurt’s icy jaw and into the warm skin of his neck. “What videos are you watching anyway?”

“I can show you. Maybe we can … you know … watch one or two … when we get home …” Kurt stutters, shivering when Blaine’s cold lips connect with his flesh, then melting beneath the heat of his husband’s tongue. Blaine walks Kurt backward, away from their half-chopped pine to the shelter of a different tree, moving them a safe distance on the off chance the poor thing decides to finish itself off without their help.

“Oh, God! Kurt!” Blaine moans, warming his hands by wedging them between the soft skin of Kurt’s groin and his growing erection.

“Blaine,” Kurt murmurs as his husband sucks a mark into the sensitive skin of his collarbone, “I just … I just want you to know that … if we freeze to death … or get eaten by a bear … I’m blaming you entirely.”

Blaine grabs Kurt’s trembling hands and brings them to the zipper of his pants. “Fair enough.”

***

“Welp. That was less than memorable,” Kurt grumbles, trying to re-button his jeans with numb fingers. “I hope that doesn’t become part of the tradition.”

“For the ninth time, I slipped!” an embarrassed Blaine says, teeth chattering, rushing to help Kurt do up his now useless coat. “I didn’t mean for us to take a nose dive into the snow!”

“Who would have thunk that fucking on ice would be dangerous!?" Kurt says sarcastically. "Christ! I must look like a wet French poodle!"

"That's ... oddly specific."

In an attempt to salvage the look he had going, Kurt tries combing his fingers through his hair but hits resistance. “Ugh! I think I’ve got sap in my hair.” He tugs and tugs, abandoning his attempts with a huff after he manages to get his fingers free … along with a sizeable chunk of hair.

“Fucking on ice,” Blaine repeats with a chuckle. “That sounds like an X-rated skating show.”

Kurt glares at his husband, unamused. “Yeah. Hilarious. Can we go back to getting our perfect tree now, Grizzly Adams?”

“I don’t know …” Blaine looks at the tree they’d been fucking against before his enthusiastic thrusting caused them to slip and take a header into the snow. “I think I like this one now.” He pats the trunk, shaking loose a minor avalanche from the branches that contains more needles than snow.

Kurt steps back, making a face as he judges the less than spectacular tree. “Why?”

“We had sex on it. That makes it ours.”

“This isn’t a department store, Blaine. I don’t think you break it, you buy it applies here.”

“I think this falls more under the guidelines of I licked it, now it’s mine.”

“I understand the sentiment, but this one’s got a dent in it.” Kurt snickers. “A dent shaped like your ass.”

“That’s a good thing,” Blaine says, walking off to retrieve his ax. “We’ll know which side to face toward the wall.”

#klaine advent 2020 #klaine advent: farm #klaine fanfiction #klaine fic #klaine

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zrtranscripts · 4 years ago

Text

Home Front, Mission 6: Phil Cheeseman Edition

Welcome to Radio Phil

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Hello, ci-ti-zens! Welcome to Radio Phil! [laughs] It's not the most creative name, I know, but at least you know what you're getting into. You might have guessed I'm here in the radio studio by myself waiting out our current lockdown. Not that different from any of you, I'm sure, though you probably have a lot fewer cables and chairs and odd knickknacks that your co-host Zoe has been collecting and now seem to be staring at you. Yes, unicorn mug, I am talking about you. [laughs] Now before you ask, there's no need to worry about Zoe. She's safe and sound in an undisclosed location. [laughs] I'm fairly sure she's not telling me just to make herself sound all mysterious.

You know what? Let's chat a little less and move a little more. I've been picking up some of the broadcasts from Abel of Ministry workouts and I've chosen a few of my favorite exercises from the manual. But before we get started with those, let's get moving. Uh, during this next song, do whatever you like to get your heart pumping. Dance, do jumping jacks, uh, wiggle your shoulders, [laughs] what have you. And Zoe, if you're listening, I know this is one of your favorites, so wherever you are, I hope you're moving.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Okay, it turns out that song isn't one of Zoe's favorites, and the reason I know that is she sent me a ROFFLEnet message saying so. And I quote, [imitate's ZOE's accent] “Phil, you numpty. I may be working like a dog where I am, but I still have time to listen to the show and if you don't tell everyone how I really feel about that terrible dirge, a zombie horde will be the least of your worries.” No, because obviously sending ROFFLEnet messages to your poor co-host - who can keep track of your strange opinions on songs - is just the break you need from whatever it is you're doing.

Well, luckily for you - and for me - the exercises I've picked for today are all about being ready for a battle. We'll start our mano a zom-o routine with some jabs. Begin by getting into a basic zom punching stance. Stand with your legs shoulder-width apart, arms at your sides and knees a little bit bent. Uh, if you'd prefer, you can also stay seated. Now bring your hands up to chin level, slightly to either side and in front of your face, and curl your hands into fists. If you're standing, take one step forward with your right foot.

Perfect. I can't see you, but I'm sure you look just like uh... oh, that old movie poster for Snake Alley, which despite what Zoe claims, is definitely not a heartwarming action classic that will have you rooting for the snakes. [sighs] Now for each jab, you're going to extend your right arm forward like you're socking a zom in the face, stopping just short of fully locking out your elbows. To give that jab even more power, rotate your right shoulder forward as you throw the punch. Once your arm is all the way extended, bring it back to the starting position, and that's our jab. [laughs]

Oh, ready to put into practice? Let's do 30 seconds of jabs with your right arm. Go at your own pace and rest as you need to. Starting... now. That's it, that's it, right there. Oh yeah, you got that one! Oh, I saw his teeth fall out. Beautiful! Yeah, keep going. Yeah, you're doing brilliant. Halfway through. If it helps, you can always picture punching your least favorite zom. Although does anyone really have a favorite zom? Ah, good style! And done.

Except, of course, that now we've got to jab from the other side. This time, put your left leg in front and jab with your left arm. I'll put 30 more seconds on the clock. Starting now. That's it. Don't forget, roll in that shoulder. Beautiful, wonderful. Yeah. Very, very good. 15 seconds. And you got that one right in the eye! Or the jaw. Definitely somewhere painful. Keep going. Ah, wonderfully done. And we're done. Shake those arms out and get ready to do a victory lap while I play something appropriately heroic. If you think you've got a few more jabs in you, you can keep going during the break. But otherwise, this is your time to rest and celebrate.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: W-w-welcome back! I hope you enjoyed celebrating your triumph. I did a bit of an interpretive victory dance myself, uh, while reading a very thorough explanation by one Zoe Crick of the merits of Snake Alley. Apparently, [imitates ZOE's accent] "It starred the most adorable boa constrictor with the cutest little tongue ever seen on the screen." As I recall, it eats a full-grown man in the middle of act two, but to each their own.

Now where were we? Oh yes. You've delivered your jabs, and now it's time to play a little defense with a side to side shuffle. This move lets you get out of the way of any danger, whether that's a zom or a vicious yet somehow adorable snake. Let's start by getting back in that fighting stance, legs shoulder-width apart, knees slightly bent, and fists up. This time, try to get a little lower , as if you were thinking about doing a squat but changed your mind halfway down. If you'd prefer, though, you can stay standing all the way up or do the exercise seated and just move your feet, whatever works best for you.

Instead of stepping forward, this time you'll step straight out to the right with your right foot. No need to take a big step, but you'll want your feet to be further apart than they were before. Now step your left foot into the space that your right foot was in before it moved. It's almost like your right foot is you and your left foot is the zombie trying to catch you, but never quite making it. Now do the same thing two more times, right foot stepping straight over to the right and then left foot taking its place. And that's a side shuffle to the right. To go back the way you came from, start with your left foot, taking it to the left, and then having your right foot try to catch up. Do that two more times and you've side shuffled right back to where you started. Just shake your legs out to relax them.

Now the side shuffle is meant to be used to do quick dodging and weaving, so let's get back in our stance and pick up the pace. Go as quickly as works for you, shuffling first to the right and then back to the left. Let's do this for a minute, if you can. And go! That's 15 seconds. Right now I'm shuffling over to ROFFLEnet because someone is sending me messages instead of doing their training, but you keep going. Halfway through, and here's a tip from Zoe. "If you have extra energy at the end of each shuffle, reach down with the arm on the side you were shuffling towards and pretend you're picking up a kitten to cuddle." Only 15 seconds to go. I know your legs are burning, but you can do this! Leave those zoms in the dust! And done! [laughs] Nice work.

[sighs] Oh, time for a rest, I think. Here's some music perfect for stroking cats - just for you, Zoe - or more shuffling, if you feel up to it.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: And we're back again, just in time for a little wager. [laughs] Zoe's made me a bet during our dance rest break. If I win, she reveals her secret location. If she wins, I have to play the soundtrack to the climactic Snake Alley Rattlesnake Tango, and none of us want that, trust me. So here's the wager: I have to turn away from simulated zombie violence and instead successfully lead you through one of Zoe's favorite exercises, the sit-up, which actually could be used to lie in wait in tall grass and then pop up to grab a zombie by the leg, so it fits with our zombie battle royale theme of the day.

Ready? Start by laying down on your back on the floor. If you have a yoga mat or even a folded blanket or towel, you can lay on that to give your body something softer to rest on. Even the carpet would be good so that you're not directly on a hard floor. Bring your knees up so that the bottoms of your feet are flat on the ground. Now it's time to pick your range of motion. The larger it is, the more energy and strength the sit-up takes, so we'll start big and then talk about a few ways to modify.

Option one is to start with your arms back behind you so that the backs of your hands are resting on the floor. Now you're going to use your stomach muscles to raise your torso from a lying to an upright position. Your arms will come all the way forward and tap the ground on either side of your feet. If coming that far doesn't work for you, you can raise your torso a little less and tap on the top of your knees instead.

You can also vary your starting arm position by either putting the fingertips of each hand just behind each ear so that your arms almost look like wings, or resting them gently on your legs. Just remember that if your fingers are behind your head, don't tug on your ears or head or hair to come up, it's not good for your neck. Once you are all the way upright, lower your upper body back to your starting position in a controlled motion. Try not to just flop down. Okay, let's try one more slowly. Come up and then go down. Wonderful.

Zoe, I hope you're ready to reveal all your secrets - or at least this particular one, anyway - because we're putting 60 seconds on the clock to do as many sit-ups as we can. Start your sit-ups... now! Ah, you're doing great! We're 15 seconds in and I'm sure Zoe has already conceded defeat. Keep going. Halfway through! Remember to only sit up as far as you can manage without overstraining yourself. Only 15 seconds left to go! You've got this. And we're done!

You all did wonderfully, which means that Zoe has to give us a clue about where she's riding out this lockdown. While we wait for that, stand back up and let's get ready for our reveal with one more dance break. Try using the time to do that dance move you've always loved but might have been a bit embarrassed to do in public? Now's the time.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: Hope you enjoyed the dance break. [laughs] I'll be honest with you, I spent it doing the robot. I'm not very good at it. I think Zoe once described it as looking like the Tin Man suddenly got electrocuted. And then fell into a swimming pool. And then got electrocuted again. [laughs] She doesn't mince her words, I'll give her that. Which means she should have plenty to say about where she's holed up while we stretch out. You can do whatever stretch works best for you. I'm going to start with bringing my left arm across my chest and supporting it with my right while trying to puzzle out this first clue.

[imitates ZOE's accent] “Wherever I am, I can tell you this: it's the cat's meow.” Well, that's about as much use as a chocolate fire guard. Though Zoe did make that reference to scooping up kittens earlier, and if anyone could manage to find a cat in the middle of a zombie lockdown, it would be her. And now switching arms, just in time for a hopefully much better clue, which is, [imitates ZOE's accent] “It's just one woman and her cats here. Honestly Phil, I'm starting to think you don't even listen when I tell you things.” One woman and her cats... hmm. I need to think about this. Listeners, uh, why don't you carry on stretching through this next song? Or have a go at some dancing yourself, if the mood takes you. You can't be any worse at the robot than I am.

PHIL CHEESEMAN: I figured it out. Zoe's secret hideout. One woman and her cats. There was a person on ROFFLEnet who asked for help relocating cats from a house that had fallen into disrepair before this whole zombie situation began. I remember now. I said something about professional cat herding and Zoe came up with a whole scheme for a competition. Like that old sheepdog show, One Man and His Dog, only with cats and treats and lots of jumping.

Stretching obviously gets my brain working. Oh, uh, next I'm bringing my left arm over my head and leaning to the right while I puzzle the rest out. Hmm. Zoe must have been helping with the cat resettlement when the zombies got loose, and the kennel has access to the radio and to ROFFLEnet. That has to be it. Not to mention that the kennel also has dogs, rabbits, a turtle, and even a couple of snakes. Switching to my right arm overhead and leaning to the left to give Zoe time to congratulate me for being the next best thing to Sherlock Holmes.

Oh. [imitates ZOE's accent] “Yes, Phil, I am at the kennel. Only one here, so I've got plenty of animals to keep me in line. Not so different from our show, really. But in truth, I miss you and I look forward to doing the show together and preventing you from playing that one ridiculous song ever again.” [sighs] Me too, Zoe. Me, too. Well, I hope that wherever you all are, you've got something warm and comforting around you, like a cuddly toy, or the sound of a friendly voice. And thanks for listening. We may be far from each other, but it's always good to know you're being heard. So for now, Cheeseman out.

#zombies run #zr home front #zrhf6 #phil cheeseman edition #zr transcript

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le-switch · 5 years ago

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Yes, that’s right, 125 pecking headcanons

This has been in my notes for way too long dfjkdf

I’ve been writting down headcanons for the switch in time au for a while. I stopped doing that now so i thought i might as well share what i got done

@switch-in-time It is time- JK you already saw these

💫 Empress thinks the other kids are really cool but doesn't wanna admit it 💫 After sneaking through the manor, Snatch started to strongly dislike cold weather, and even became a little afraid of it 💫 Moonjumper also started to dislike cold weather, just not as much as his brother 💫 The florist is taller than everyone else. She makes fun of everyone for it but will stop if someome gets actually upset 💫 Grooves prefers instrumental music over lyrical music, since he can create his own lyrics for them 💫 Despite being a very popular and talktative kid, Grooves doesn't feel comfortable enough to sing in front of others yet 💫 Connie is the only one who has heard Grooves' singing voice. It was an accident, but he doesn't regret it 💫 Empress would be nicer if everyone taught her how to do the things they are able to do (Like MoonJumper's arts and crafts, for example) 💫 The moon penguins got to know each other thanks to Grooves, and they'll always be grateful to have him as a friend 💫 The express owls already knew each other before meeting Connie 💫 The express owls know that Connie isn't really as mean as he pretends to be, and they all care for him 💫 Hattie's bed is not hers anymore. It was completely invaded by the kids and she now mostly sleeps in her pillow fort 💫 Split Nessa is more unorganized than Gen Nessa, since her appereance doesn't really matter anymore 💫 Snatch stole everyone's left socks at some point 💫 Split Snatch and MoonJumper have an ant farm and they love every single one of their ants 💫 Connie and Grooves will overdramatize everything since they wanna be actors, no matter how mudane the situation is 💫 Mafia Bab once tried to "kidnap" Mu by trying to block her way with chairs. It did not work 💫 To join the mafia you must shave your hair since "Mafia boss is only mafia member allowed to have hair" 💫 Split Snatch and Moonjumper can't be found separated from each other. If you see one of them alone, the other must be nearby 💫 Nessa is usually very polite and shy, but once she's comfortable around you she can become a little bratty 💫 Everyone thinks Split Snatch is adorable and he hates it 💫 Empress doesn't like to play in mud 💫 After being defeated in his "boss battle", Snatch became so exhausted he accidentaly fell asleep on Hattie 💫 MoonJumper loves to swim and play with water 💫 Snatch on the other side, hates water and it's a pain to force him to bath 💫 Empress was supossed to get temporary glasses after her eye got scarred but she refused, and will refuse for the rest of her life 💫 Every kid has called Hattie "Mom" at least once. Most of them are accidents tho 💫 Nessa is the only one who hasn't called Hattie "Mom" by accident because they're all on purpose 💫 Shapeshifter is one of the kids Connie considers an "enemy" since the day they tricked him into giving them his nuggies 💫 Shapeshifter also wants to be an actor like Connie and Grooves, but their shyness wont let them even practice 💫 The Prince from the Split timeline was a Gemini 💫 Every mafia kid wants to be an actual mafioso when they grow up, except for one, who wants to be a paranormal investigator 💫 Despite wanting to be a paranormal investigator, this particular mafia kid is afraid of paranormal stuff. He's trying his best tho.... I'm talking about Goofy Mafia obviously- 💫 The Subcon trio once played 'Kingdom' and Nessa got to play as queen. They never played this game again 💫 Mafia bab and Goofy Mafia were the most hurt by Mu's betrayal, and yet, they were the first kids to forgive her 💫 Snatch was caught trying to steal Hattie's cereal once. Instead of giving it back like a normal child, he started to run yelling it was HIS cereal now 💫 Empress used to like theater until she learned it was for "nerds" 💫 Split Snatch is not an actual ghost despite being like one. He still has to eat, sleep, breath and has a heartbeat 💫 How are babies made? This is a question only Badge knows the answer to 💫 Mafia bab and Goofy Mafia love pizza but the other Mafia kids like hamburguer better 💫 Connie can, and will bite your legs if you make him mad, wich is very often so you better wear long pants 💫 It's very hard to make Grooves mad, but if you do, he'll give you the silent treatment 💫 When Snatch gets sick he will either take full advantage of the situation or pretend he's perfectly fine and push himself to his limit 💫 Mafia bab to Empress: What do you MEAN theater is for nerds??? 💫 Shapeshifter likes to hang out with the penguins and Grooves the most 💫 After a while, Snatch learned that calling any of the alien gals "mom" is the ultimate manipulative move 💫Goofy Mafia and Mafia bab, despite having pretty much opossite personalities, get along so well to the point of being considered best friends 💫 Mafia bab somehow recognizes and knows the names of every single one of the Mafia kids 💫 Mu subconsciously plays favorites. She can't help it, she has to take care of almost 100 kids, if not more 💫 Nessa has a small crush on Snatch. The feeling is, sadly, not mutual 💫 Snatch snatches Nessa's crown sometimes. He likes to pretend he's a king 💫 Mu's cape looks REALLY messy and it's mostly an amalgamate of stitches and fabric. That's because Mafia made it. It was a Mafia gift 💫 Goofy Mafia's other best friend is Thor. Thor would like it better if he spoke like a normal person tho 💫 Bow is a GREAT actress. She can save entire shows with the power of her presence alone 💫 The reason Snatch is more afraid of Victoria than MJ is because he was the closest to being caught. This means he got to see her eyes and the cold stare she always carries with them 💫 This may sound ironic but Snatch strongly dislikes snowball fights. He'd rather build a snowman while drinking hot cocoa 💫The only way Snatch and Empress get along is when it's winter and neither of them want to go outside 💫 Shapeshifter and Empress both have a massive sweet tooth 💫 Thor eventually manages to break Goofy Mafia's habit of speaking in third person. The Mafia kids are confused and Mafia bab is scared 💫 When Nessa gained a lot more confidence, she started to show public affection towards Snatch with the sole purpose of making him flustered. He hates it 💫 Thor can tell when Mafia bab breaks his stuff on accident, even if he tries to pretend it was on purpose. He can identify when he's nervious or guilty 💫 When Split Snatch gets REALLY mad, he burts into flames. The Fire spirits love when this happens 💫 When someone dies, they are given the options of going to the afterlife, stay as a Subconite if they feel like they died before it was their time, or stay as a Dweller to guard the forest if they don't have any issues left but want to be helpful 💫 The Dwellers don't remember their past life, since it'd get in the way of their duties. However, they can feel conections to those who were close to them 💫 If you were really REALLY close to a Dweller when they were alive, they might give you a flower 💫 A particular Dweller gave Nessa a flower once. She was really confused but felt the need to keep it anyways 💫 The swamp tries to drown Hattie at first, for she is an intruder. However the forest eventually warms up to her and stops trying to harm her 💫 Even if the forest didn't warm up to her it would've made no difference since the Subcon trio likes her 💫 The forest also may or may not be a little jealous of the kids' attachment to Hattie. Especially the Split timeline's forest 💫 Goofy Mafia learned about the types of cables and what they're useful for against his will. Guess who taught him 💫 Thor learned about far away planets and the life forms they might contain against his will. G u e s s w h o- 💫 Empress calls Snatch adorable nicknames like 'Marshmallow'. Don't missunderstand, she does this in a mocking way with the sole purpose of making him mad 💫 When Snatch and Empress fight, it's never certain who will win. The Mafia kids like to bet when it happens in front of them 💫 Split Snatch can sing decently. He usually gets the notes right, but he's not a great singer either, so he almost never sings. Gen Snatch's voice cracks every time he tries 💫 Star kid is a very good writter. They make whole stories by their own and sometimes help Grooves with the creation of his songs 💫 Goofy Mafia actually, geniuenly needs his weird swirled glasses to see 💫 Thor convinces Goofy Mafia to be as nerdy as he wants to be. Being a "cool boy" is overrated anyways 💫 The one thing Mu succesfully taught Mafia bab is that beating kids that can't or won't fight back is stupid. It's not like you win something from it. It's not even fun 💫 Snatch is surprisingly good at strategy videogames. One would think he'd mindlessly go for the strongest attack in rpgs, but he doesn't 💫 Goofy Mafia can, and will kick your butt in racing games like Mario kart 💫 Empress is a natural in fighting games. She knows and plays games she really shouldn't. Like Mortal Kombat 💫 Thor and MJ prefer games where you build and take care of a place 💫 Empress is great at biology. She knows body parts, functions and where to stike to kill you. She doesn't want to be grounded for life tho, so don't worry too much about it 💫 Hattie interrupted a Mafia theater play once. The options she inmediately thought about for that situation were -Say sorry and leave -Play dead -Sweat a lot and stand there awkwardly 💫 Thor can be VERY sassy when he wants to be 💫 Goofy Mafia eventually learns about the power of sass thanks to local goggle boy. He barely uses that himself tho 💫 One of Snatch's biggest dreams is to bite Victoria's ankles 💫 Goofy Mafia makes sure that everything "behind scenes" goes without problem at the Mafia theater when there's a play. He even has a checklist 💫 The checklist is actually nothing but scribbles no one except him can understand 💫 Hattie started a "Too self-conscious to act/sing in front of crowds" club to try and help some kids and herself to be more confident in that aspect 💫 Since Goofy Mafia is like the theater's manager he rarely acts in plays. But he's surprisingly good at playing villains. This confuses E V E R Y O N E, no exceptions 💫 Thor often visits Alpine Skyline when he gets tired of being in Mafia Town. He does this especially when he's working on small projects that don't require big tools or too much material 💫 Little Grooves tried to befriend Empress once. Keyword Tried 💫 Caw agents are the type of children that will carefully observe their toys to see if they move after watching Toy Story 💫 Mu hesitated for a second in The Finale when she saw that both Goofy Mafia and Mafia bab were scared of her 💫 Caw agents often say the same thing at the same time when talking to someone else. No one knows how they do it 💫 Caw agents can be described as 'those kids everyone says are weird, but secretly think they're cool' 💫 Warm weather: Nessa, Empress, Snatch, Connie, MJ, Starkid, Express owls, Hattie, most Mafia kids, Mafia bab 💫 Cold weather: Mu, Grooves, Moon Penguins, Caw agents, Goofy Mafia, Thor, Cookie, Cap'n Warlus and his crew 💫 Both are good: Shapeshifter, Badge, Bow, The Nomads, Nyakuza cats 💫 Nessa spaces out often when not in the manor. Don't laugh at her if she crashes into something or someone when walking, it's already embarasing enough 💫 Badge may not talk much but when they do it's always something wise or confusing that leaves people thinking. Goofy Mafia loves it 💫 Just so you know, wise and confusing can also mean out of place and things kids shouldn't know yet 💫 Badge likes snakes and snakes like them back 💫 Nessa doesn't know how to write things other than her name. Her mother told her that's the only thing she needs to know how to write so she can sign stuff 💫 Split Snatch taught his Nessa how to write. Gen Snatch tried with his, but he's more impatient 💫 Victoria moves similar to a snake when mad. Her massive hair starts moving slightly like tentacles, giving her a medusa-like look. What makes it so scary is that she remains calm and calculating when moving like that 💫 Nessa hates her name. There's people who actually believe her name is Nessa and not Vanessa because she never introduces herself like that 💫 Don't forget that despite that, Nessa is still Vanessa in a sense. She can get REALLY clingy. They're working on it 💫 Mafia kids are REALLY strong. They can take a lot of damage and hit hard 💫 Goofy Mafia is not strong. At all. He is however w a y more agile than the other Mafia kids 💫 Thor doesn't find Mafia bab as annoying when he's geniuenly thinking and trying to understand something. It's even endearing sometimes 💫 Cookie is, unsurprisingly, not very good at acting. But she sometimes plays secondary characters in Mafia plays, since some of those characters might need a more unique look and Mafia kids can't provide that all the time 💫 Empress, after a l o t of self-convincing attended one of the "nerd plays" to see Cookie act, and saw how she rarely fit her roles 💫 Cookie expected Empress to regain at least a little bit of her former love for theater with the play she attended to. She didn't 💫Mafia bab once told Goofy Mafia that he would teach him how to be tough. He didn't believe him, and it didn't really work anyway. If anything it was Thor who taught how to be tough 💫 Empress forces the Nyakuza cats to watch Cookie's cooking tutorials. They ended up liking them so it's not that bad 💫 in stressful situations Goofy Mafia will often hide behind Mafia bab. If he doesn't then Mafia bab will automatically put himself in front of him, so it might as well just happen 💫 Subcon's favorite holiday is halloween. They adore it and will put a lot of attention to detail. Even the queen enjoys some parts of it 💫 The reason Victoria enjoys some of it is because she chooses a group of random people to terrorize all night 💫 The candy for halloween is not for the children. It's for the people Victoria keeps up all night, and it's their decision if they wanna share it with children 💫 Mu actually lives in a cave. She can actually get a normal home, but the cave is cooler and bigger 💫 Mafia was not born in "Mafia Town". One beautiful night Mu woke up to find 100+ children, all of them asleep in boats 💫 If you ask Thor what the worst day of his life was, he'd tell you it was day he woke up to a bunch of random children running around in the usually pacific and quiet town, only to have one of them yell at the top of his lungs that they were staying 💫 Shape can be very forgetful sometimes. Don't call them out if they say "happy birthday" 10 times on your birthday

#a switch in time #switch in time

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fingertipsmp3 · 3 months ago

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This may not be a surprise to anyone else, but I personally have just realised that I am stupid

#so i’m making these socks right because i want to practice doing cables and there are not that many cables on the sock #first off this was kind of a dumb decision considering i don’t have a cable needle. i mean i have one Somewhere but idk where it is #and it’s way too thick to use with 2.5mm needles and sock yarn anyway #i’ve been using a tapestry needle and kind of getting by. i mean i only have to do four cables on 2 rows out of every 8 #the really stupid part is i have to stick rigidly to this chart right? only doing cables throws off my ability to count my rows #so i’ve been using a stitch marker to help me. but then i have to keep moving the stitch marker around so that it’s not right below a cable #because if there’s a cable above it; i can no longer 100% tell what i’ve done #guys. i’ve just realised after a whole ass repeat that i can put the stitch marker on the OTHER SIDE #on the sole of the foot in other words. where it’s just straight stockinette stitch all the way up #when i’m done with a whole repeat of the chart i’ll just move it up; mark a chart repeat and continue #there’s no risk of me mixing up the instep and sole because they look totally different. i’m stuuuupid #well anyway. other than that the sock’s going really well. i was nervous because i haven’t done toe-up in a really long time #i prefer cuff-down because i find german twisted cast on way easier than trying to do a stretchy bind off. but i guess we’ll get there #when we get there #personal

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iggy-dearest · 5 years ago

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Happy valentines day Vergil

Vergil peeks out from the shelter of his pages for what seemed like the thousandth time that day.

Valentines Day

You two used to celebrate it before your ‘unplanned separation’. However, since he then decided to stay by your side and be the dutiful husband that you deserve. And he’s determined to treat you liek the queen you are. He doesn’t know what to do, every plan he comes up with just seems to have an equally horrible chance of blowing up in his face!

Your poor husband

Should he take you out?

No you don’t like crowded areas that much. What if you have a panic attack while your with him. He doesn’t want you to feel scared!

Should he make a homemade gift?

No, he’s never been good with crafts, that’s more of your forte.

What if he takes you to one of those spa’s you and the other women go to your occasionally?

No, you don’t like certain people touching you and it also seemed like something you did with just the girls, and Dante said. Whatever the hell that means.

Maybe he should make you some dinner?

Although, he really can’t cook, like at all. He remembers when you first started traveling together in your teenage years, he nearly burned down that cheap hotel room. ‘How do you burn water’ was your question. He never got near the stove again, traumatized and deeply embarrassed by the fact that he’d burned water. Although he supposes tea counts? Doesn’t it?

Tea!

He should get you tea. You appreciate it as much as he does. As far as he knows your taste in tea hasn’t changed much. He also noticed that you seem to be running out of your favorite blend and if he remembers correctly it isn’t very easy to come by.

Perhaps he could somehow get Dante to leave you alone for the night? Although he wonders how he should approach the matter with him.

The door opening as abruptly as it did was what snapped him out of his thoughts and what made you jump in your seat. “I’m back!!!” Dante hollered like he was on the worlds biggest sugar high. “Why are you yelling” you asked, although you don’t know if you want to know the answer. You spotted the familiar shaped box in his hands, “did someone get a treat” you teased with a glint in your eye that made your husband weak in the knees. “You bet your ass I did” Vergil saw the smile on your face when you saw Dante sporting his own. A feeling gurgled in his stomach, why did you have to be so close with Dante?

Taking a box into your hand you saw a name written in beautiful penmanship,,, one Dante never could have forged even on his best day. “Who’s Sandy” you asked propping yourself up on the desk. “New girl at Sammy’s” Dante said now sitting in your old seat behind the desk. “Oh~” you know who he’s talking about she looked young apparently has a really big crush on Dante.

“Either of you get any yet?” Dante questioned

“No, not that I know of” you sighed out,stretching your back out, how long have you been sitting in that chair. “I think I’m gonna head home for the day. Okay?” You asked.

You honestly have no idea what your gonna do, you just don’t wanna stay with him anymore. You don’t know if he’s going to try anything with you. Quite frankly if he does it means he’s trying to wine you back, which is confusing for its own reasons and if he doesn’t it means that he doesn’t want you anymore which hurts more then it sounds like. You just don’t know. Maybe you should just go home, listen to some opera to clear your head make some tea to calm you down and maybe watch a movie. A silent film seems fitting and not as pathetic as your love life.

“Ok” Dante agreed, what the hell has his idiot brother been doing this whole time. Honestly, does he not see a perfect opportunity when it happens to be standing a few feet away from him and is walking out the door.

“See you tomorrow” and with that you leave to drown yourself in tea and perhaps some wine.

“What the hell have you been doing for the past 3 hours, Vergil?!?” Dante yells.

Vergil turns his head to the window once he sees you cross the street he gets up himself. Time to get his affairs in order, Dante straightens up as he sees his brother get up from his seat.

Is he going to stab him?

On Valentine’s Day

Nice way of showing your brotherly love, asshole.

The younger twin watches as his brother wordlessly puts his book down on the coffee table and walks out of the establishment. Heading in the opposite direction that you were in.

Where the hell was he going?

~~~

It’s here he knows it’s on this block. You mentioned a new tea shop that had just opened up that carried your favorite blend. He knows because the look on your face was not one he could ever forget. Vergil walked down the street although it seemed more like cantering. His eyes strained a bit from the light reflecting on the shops naked windows. Than back to the small scrap of paper he had jostled down the name of the store.

Infused

Was the name. Simple easy to remember, he likes it.

Walking inside he is greeted to a mix of smells. The strongest being from the fruity blends that you happen to dislike. He doesn’t much like them either.

“Welcome” said a store clerk. The clerk approached him “Hi I’m Joshua, if you need any help, just ask me” he said with a well practiced smile.

When did humans get so..nice?

“I’m looking for a specific blend” Vergil started. “Peppermint lavender” he finished dammit if only he’d taken the nearly empty container. That would definitely help his situation. “We have a few choices, if you’d like I can bring them out and you can see which one it is that you’re looking for” wow, when did humans become so helpful.

Vergil nodded he didn’t usually prolong his time with others, but for you he’d do just about anything. Because you’re worth it, you always have been. He was just a fool and didn’t always see it.

He heads to the counter where the salesman has all the teas laid out for him. He squints his eyes as he trues to remember what your container looked like. It was...white..with purple outlining.

The salesman watches as the man who’s face looked like it was chisled out if marble and looked like he should be at a fantasy fair tried to make up his mind. He hopes he doesn’t choose the one thats mainly white, he’s had his eye on that one for a while and it the last one!

“This one” Vegil decides pointing to the one that’s the most similar to yours. He really hopes that it’s right, it’d be really embarrassing if it wasn’t.

Shit!

He choose the one he had his mind on. Maybe he could just say that it’s been reserved?

No, the salesman saw him before he walked into the store. He actually walked past it a few times too, but he had a look on his face that screamed ‘determination’. The salesman sighs internally, he probably needs it more then he does.

“Excellent choice” he says his rehearsed line and moves to the cashier.

~~~

Vergil hopes he’s not to late. He runs through the street. It’s getting late, he’d stopped to pick up some takeout that you liked courtesy of Dante for the information. He wants to get there before 8 o’clock otherwise he’d come off as wanting sex.

Wouldn’t he?!?!

And then he remembers, he’s got a sword that allows home to teleport. Really Vergil crosses his mind. With two precise swings he is at your apartment building.

However, this might be the hardest part. Going to the door of the woman your head-over-heels for and asking for her to let you into her safe space.

~~~

You sigh that’s enough of the silent films. Maybe you can leech off of your sister-in-law’s disney account. You decide Disney makes everything better. It even makes you feel better then you crazy love life.

You look at your glass, shit! That was your last spot of tea. Oh well, that just means you’ll have to break out the wine. What goes better together then Disney and wine.

You’re about to get up and stretch when in the place of hearing a tired joint popping, you hear a knock. Who the fuck knocks at, you peer at the time on the cable, 7:50pm. It had better not be your annoying neighbor, your not in the mood for his dumbassery. You’d much rather just sock him in the chin or slam the door on his nose, either work for you.

The knocking comes again. “I’m coming” you’ve decided it’s not your neighbor, they wouldn’t have waited so long to place their next knock.

So who the hell is it?

“Vergil” is the only word to make it out of your mouth as you open your door. What is he doing here. He looks a bit out of breath, is he alright?

“Hello”..hello...hello. Who the fuck even says hello anymore. Thats it Vergil’s used up all of his confidence. Why is it that he can face demons with no problem yet he can’t even face his love without freezing up. “Um,” what the hell are you supposed to say. “Is everything alright” you let out, sort of leaning and hiding behind your door. That door is your best defense right now if anything happens or if you just wanna slam it in his face because he talked out of his ass.

“Yes-no-uhm” christ can someone help him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day” he mumbles

“What” you ask, he must be nervous if he’s mumbling around you. Though, you’re glad you still have that effect on him.

“Happy Valentine’s Day” he finally manages, his voice filled with a bit more confidence than before.

You watch as he hands you a cylindrical container. It looks familiar to you, “this is..” you’re surprised he noticed “where did you find it” your so surprised, that’s good right? “The tea shop you mentioned” was his only answer “Vergil, I mentioned that weeks ago” your surprised he still remembered, even you didn’t remember it all the time despite being a frequent costumer there. Your glad that he did though-oh is that Chinese food.

“Thank you” sincerity dripped through your voice, and for that it’s worth it for him. You’re worth it, you always will be. “Would you..like to have dinner” now your surprised “I’d love too” you moved aside and let him in. You hope he likes Disney.

~~~

Vergil could not be happier then he is in this moment. You asleep and curled into his side, empty plastic containers strewn put on the coffee table complete with disposable chopsticks. With a Disney movie ‘Alaadin’ you said the name was, illuminating the otherwise dark apartment. He sees you shiver slightly, he takes the throw blanket that is draped over the back of the couch and lays if on you, his neck will hurt in the morning but he really doesn’t care. He’s not moving, no man in the world would. He slowly reached for the remote and turned the TV off.

I love you, he thinks as he starts to drift off.

I love you, you think as you snuggle closer into the source of your warmth, and you have a feeling that it won’t go away anytime soon.

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silverlightqueen · 5 years ago

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The Other Half - Part 1

badboy!Jimin x richgirl!reader ft. bts, nct 127, twice, red velvet, got7, blackpink and exo

Word Count: 10k+

Summary - In Winchester, y/n has it all. Gorgeous and glamorous. A friendship group just as gorgeous and glamorous. Fantastic grades. A handsome boyfriend with a family just as successful as hers. A doting dad and a brother just as beautiful as she is. An amazing school, and an even more amazing house. As many cars and clothes and bags and shoes, and as much makeup and money she could ever ask for. But when Winchester Academy puts on an exchange programme with Burnley Tech School, a high school in an underprivileged area, two completely different worlds collide, and y/n has her hands full, practically overflowing, dealing with her exchange partner, bad boy Jimin with a whole lot of baggage…

DISCLAIMER - I do not know some of these idols very well and so the portrayal of their personalities and behaviour are not 100% accurate. They are also dramatised and changed for the purpose of this story. Please do not consider my portrayal of these idols as my opinions on them.

Warnings - talk of weight and dieting, toxic relationship, bad language, classism, mild sExUaL ReLaTiOnS towards the end, I think that’s it lol

a/n: so here is part one ! have a lil new years gift from me lol, lmk what you think so far and hmu if you wanna be on the taglist x

au masterlist

silverlightqueen masterlist

taglist💕: @sakurauchiha2018 @jesuislalune @haileykurayami @mayumioutloud @jiminsreads @rjsmochii @generousrunawaylove @ibelieveinourgalaxy @jennafromhome @locharnathebanana @silverlightprincess

‘y/n, what are you doing?’ Jaehyun asks as I take my seat opposite him in the dining room, father sat between us at the head of the table. ‘What do you mean?’ I ask in confusion as I start up my laptop, ready to finish my English homework. ‘Why are you in your pyjamas?’ he asks, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘I’m going to bed soon. You know I hate being tired on a Monday morning,’ I say, and Jaehyun shakes his head despairingly at me. ‘y/n, we’ve gotta be there to pick the exchange students up in, like, half an hour,’ he says, and I sigh, having completely forgotten about that. ‘Shit,’ I curse, and father looks up from his laptop with a raised eyebrow. ‘Sorry, daddy,’ I say, and he gives me a small smile before going back to his work. ‘Can’t you just pick mine up as well, Jae? I really can’t be bothered to go,’ I say, and Jaehyun shakes his head. ‘No way, y/n. That’s not a great impression, is it?’ he says, and I pout. ‘Please, Jae, I don’t wanna get changed,’ I whine, and he shakes his head. ‘Dad, tell her,’ he says, and I scowl, knowing exactly what’s going to happen.

‘What are you two bickering about now?’ father asks. ‘y/n’s asking me to pick her exchange student up because she doesn’t want to get changed, but I said no because it’s not a great impression,’ Jaehyun says, and father looks at me. ‘Sweetheart, your brother’s right, I bet your exchange student would be hurt that you haven’t gone to pick him or her up. Go get changed, darling, and then you can leave in fifteen minutes so you’re there with plenty of time,’ father says, and I whine, getting up from my seat and stomping out of the dining room and all the way up to my room. I change out of my comfy pyjamas into a pair of blue high waisted ripped jeans and a pink cable knitted jumper, putting a black longline coat over the top and a pair of black sock boots on my feet. I put all my jewellery back on, matching Chanel set and all, and put my phone and lip-gloss into my pink Chanel clutch. When I head back downstairs, Jaehyun’s waiting beside the front door for me.

‘Come on, we’re gonna be late,’ he says, throwing me my car keys and I catch them deftly. We both shout goodbyes to father as we leave, hearing a faint goodbye back. I check the keys Jaehyun threw me, seeing that they’re the Audi ones, and I grin, surprised that he remembered which car’s my favourite. ‘Do you wanna drive next to each other, or just meet there?’ he asks as he climbs into his car, head hanging out of the door. ‘You go ahead, boy racer,’ I reply, Jaehyun winking at me as he shuts his door, racing out of the driveway mere seconds later. I climb into my Audi but before I can pull off, our valet, Changwoo, appears and I roll down the window. ‘Miss, will you or either your father or brother be using any of the other cars tonight or should I put them back into the garage?’ he asks. They’ve all been washed today, hence why they’re still out on the circle drive, shining in the setting sun. ‘I won’t, and neither will Jae. You’ll have to ask father though, he might have urgent business. You know what he’s like,’ I say, Changwoo letting out a light laugh. ‘Okay, miss. Good luck with your exchange student,’ he says, and I grin, the entire household excited about having two new temporary members of the family. ‘Thank you,’ I reply before rolling the window back up. I pull off and drive the short journey to school, getting there within ten minutes. When I pull onto the school car park and into my designated spot, the others are all already there and waiting for me, the sun having nearly set, a gentle glow cast over them all. ‘About time,’ Haechan says as I climb out of the car and I flip him off as we all begin to head to the front drive of the school where we know their school coaches will be arriving.

‘Ah, you’re all here,’ Miss Jung says when we join the other students all stood around waiting for their exchange students. This programme was only offered to our year group, so all sixty of our year group are here, no parents to be seen. That’s one thing about the lives we live; our parents are only with us if they need to be. ‘Right, students, listen up! Your exchange students have had a long drive here so they’re most likely going to be tired and hungry. Make sure you feed them and get them to bed asap and save the house tours for tomorrow. Only tell them the most urgent things they need to know, and you can fill them in completely tomorrow after school,’ Miss Jung says just as a coach pulls up. ‘That’s strange. There’s supposed to be two coaches,’ I hear her say under her breath to another of the teachers, all of them heading to the coaches to greet the students. We’re all eager to catch glimpses of the students, and we’re pleasantly surprised when the first one gets off the coach.

He’s tall, handsome and broad, dimpled with dyed grey hair. He’s dressed fashionably in comfy, casual wear, a neck pillow around his thick neck, and offers a small smile when he sees us all staring. ‘They don’t look poor,’ Taeyong says to me as we watch them come off the coach. The boys are pretty much all good-looking, and the girls are all really pretty, all of them dressed fairly fashionably. Obviously not in designer labels like we are, but I spot a couple brands here and there. Admittedly, they wear Trapstar and Billionaire Boys Club (ironic) to our Moncler and Balenciaga, and Calvin Klein and Diesel to our Balmain and Valentino. Once they’ve all emptied off the coach and gotten their luggage, there’s only about 30 of them, and our teachers speak to their teachers, the rest of us speaking with hushed voices. I inspect them all, a couple other of the boys catching my eyes. There’s a cute one with dark hair and a bunny smile, but he’s about twice my height, another handsome boy with dark hair and a heart shaped smile, slim and toned by the looks of it. A shorter boy stands with the first one I saw, wavy grey hair and a smaller frame with the cutest gummy smile.

The teachers start to read out some of the pairs, all of us listening eagerly. Jaehyun gets paired with the cute one with the bunny smile and they leave almost straight away. Taeyong gets paired with a pretty brunette, slim and long-haired with porcelain skin. I can feel the jealousy bubbling up, but it quickly subsides when he captures my lips in a quick kiss before leaving with her, blowing another kiss over his shoulder at me. Jihyo gets paired with the tall dimply guy, Dahyun gets paired with the short curly haired guy and Momo gets paired with the heart-shaped smile dark-haired guy. Johnny, Doyoung, Mina and Chaeyoung get paired with the other four of Taeyong’s partner’s friends, and those pairs have met and left whilst the rest of us are still stood around waiting. ‘Students, the other coach will be here shortly, it just got delayed,’ Miss Jung announces, the rest of us groaning. ‘They won’t be long, stop complaining,’ she mutters, coaxing laughs from our friendship group.

‘That boy Jae got paired with is cute, don’t you think?’ Nayeon says, and I roll my eyes. ‘Johnny left literally a minute ago. Down, girl,’ I say amusedly, the girl giggling at my reply. ‘Says you. We all know what you and Taeyong get up to,’ she replies, and I hit her gently on the arm. ‘Shut it, dumbass, no one knows about that except for you,’ I say, and she laughs maniacally. ‘Remember that when you’re mean to me again,’ she says warningly, and I roll my eyes at her. ‘Did you see who Tae got put with? If he doesn’t tap that, he’s stupid,’ I hear Haechan saying, and I turn with an indignant look on my face. ‘First of all, Dahyun is your girlfriend. Second of all, excuse me, I’m right here,’ I say, and he puts an arm around me with a smirk on his face. ‘Don’t be offended, babe, you’re better. He’d be even stupider if he didn’t tap you,’ he says, and I look at him incredulously. ‘Again, Dahyun is your girlfriend,’ I say, and he grins. ‘That’s neither here nor there,’ he replies as the other coach arrives.

I feel excitement bubbling up inside me as the coach pulls to a stop, knowing my partner is about to walk out of the coach door. I watch eagerly as another group of thirty leave the coach, dressed similarly, and there are a couple that catch my eye. Possibly one of the most handsome boys I’ve ever seen, dark hair swept back from his face, plump pink lips and a loud laugh that sounds distinctly like window wipers. Another boy, tall and built, manly and broad, dark wavy hair and a boxy smile. The teachers start to call out the pairs and when I hear my name, I practically sprint over to them. ‘y/n, this is your partner, Park Jimin,’ Miss Jung says, moving aside to reveal my partner to me. My breath catches in my throat at the sight of him; swept back purple hair with streaks of blue in it, plump shiny lips, dark piercing eyes, and smooth clear skin. Mile long legs, a small waist and bigger shoulders, his body slim and toned through his black slim-fit Puma sweatpants and black Fila hoodie, silver rings adorning his fingers and silver earrings hanging from his ears.

‘Hi, I’m y/n,’ I say, offering a hand to him, and he takes it after a moment, shaking it firmly. His hand is warm and soft, and the rings are cool and firm, a pleasurable contrast. Our hands fall away at the same time and Miss Jung smiles at us. ‘I’m sure you two will get on well; y/n will be a great host, Jimin,’ Miss Jung says, the boy simply nodding. ‘Well, off you go. Remember, be here on time tomorrow morning!’ she says, and we both nod. ‘Do you want a hand with your bags?’ I offer as Miss Jung and his teacher move away from us. ‘I’ve got them, thanks,’ he says, his voice… nice. Low but not low at the same time. Gravelly but light. Melodious. ‘Well, I’m parked in the car park, it’s just this way,’ I say, and we begin to walk towards the car park, Jimin wheeling his cases along behind him. ‘How was the drive?’ I ask, and he shrugs. ‘It was okay. As good as a six-hour long journey away from your home and parents can be,’ he says, and my heart goes out to him. I also feel a bit guilty, but I know it’s not my fault. ‘Well, it kinda sucks, but hopefully you’ll enjoy yourself here,’ I say, and he nods. ‘Hopefully,’ he says, and we fall into a slightly awkward silence.

When we reach the car, I unlock it and open the boot, helping him lift his bags in. I shut the boot as he climbs in the passenger side, and I get in the driver’s side. Being in such close proximity with him in an enclosed space, I can smell his scent on the air. He smells distinctly of a nice cologne and, curiously, almost of baked goods. I must be mistaking something else for that, because why would he smell of baked goods? ‘Audi, can you text Jaehyun and ask if he’s getting takeaway or getting Eunha to cook something?’ I say, the dashboard lighting up. ‘Of course, y/n,’ the car replies as I start the car and reverse out of my parking space. ‘You can talk to your car?’ Jimin says, and I nod as I pull out of the car park. ‘It stops me from having to pull over whenever I want to send a text,’ I reply, and he chuckles, just as the car beeps to signal a reply from my brother. ‘Jaehyun replied ‘Eunha made us dinner, don’t get takeout, and get back soon, the food’s getting cold.’ Would you like to reply, y/n?’ ‘No, thank you, Audi,’ I reply before clicking the play button on the steering wheel, my music quietly floating out of the speakers. ‘How the other half live, huh?’ Jimin says drily.

‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ I ask neutrally, trying not to take it offensively but not sure how else I should take it. ‘It means, you have a car that you can talk to, a chef at your house, I presume, and you’re decked out in expensive designers. I’m guessing your daddy’s a rich businessman and your mummy’s a pretty housewife, and you’ve got loads of staff and loads of clothes and a rich boyfriend and everything a girl could ever ask for. Like a princess,’ he says, almost venomously, and I shrug. ‘I guess you’re right. Except for one thing,’ I say, and he chuckles. ‘What’s that then?’ he asks. ‘My mum’s not a housewife. She’s dead,’ I say, and he falls silent. ‘Sorry. That was mean of me. I shouldn’t have said all that. It’s not your fault you were born rich and I… wasn’t,’ he says after a few moments of awkward silence, almost ashamedly, and I shrug again. ‘It’s okay. Just… I wouldn’t adopt that kind of attitude at school tomorrow, not in front of the Winchester students anyway. It’d probably do you more harm than good,’ I say. ‘Thanks for the advice, princess, but I can look out for myself,’ he says, the lack of emotion in the words having me taken aback. ‘Don’t call me that,’ I say. ‘What?’ ‘Princess,’ I reply, and he doesn’t say anything. Neither of us do, the rest of the drive home, and I curse Miss Jung for putting me with this guy. How am I supposed to get along with him when he clearly already hates me, my friends, my family, and everything we stand for? This exchange programme is going to be… fun.

When we pull up to the house, I can sense he’s biting his tongue and continues to do so when Changwoo comes rushing up and carries his bags up to the house and is still continuing to do so when Changwoo takes my keys with a bow and a ‘Goodnight, miss’. ‘Welcome to your temporary home,’ I say as a couple of the staff appear. ‘Welcome back, miss. Welcome, sir,’ they chorus as they take Jimin’s bags. ‘They’ll put them in your room,’ I say as I lead him through the foyer, the boy still watching the staff go up the grand staircase, and into the kitchen. The kitchen is one of my favourite rooms in the house, all sleek marble surfaces and cool devices that make my life easier when I’m cooking. Jaehyun and his exchange partner, the bunny smile boy, are sat at the breakfast bar, eating the banquet Eunha’s laid out for us, made up of many different dishes, kimchi, japchae, samgyeopsal and bulgogi to name a few. Both boys look up when we walk in, bunny boy’s bunny smile appearing when he sees Jimin. ‘Hyung!’ he exclaims, mouth full of food, and I try my hardest not to grimace at the sight. ‘What did I do to get put in the same house as you?’ Jimin mutters as bunny boy jumps up from his seat, pulling the other boy into a hug. ‘Jaehyun, this is Jimin. Jimin, this is my twin brother, Jaehyun,’ I say, the two shaking hands. ‘Jungkook, this is y/n, my sister. y/n, this is Jungkook, or JK,’ Jaehyun says, bunny boy – Jungkook – holding out a food covered hand to me. I shake it lightly with the best smile I can muster up as Jimin takes a seat on the breakfast bar, Jungkook re-joining them.

I walk around to the other side of the island, washing my hands before I open the fridge and get out the bottle of fresh organic fruit juice that’s delivered for me every day. ‘Aren’t you eating, y/n?’ Jaehyun asks, and I shake my head, taking a sip of the juice, all three boys watching me. ‘I’m not hungry. I might just have an apple or something,’ I say, and Jaehyun shakes his head. ‘You should eat more, y/n. It’s not good for you,’ Jaehyun says, and I shake my head. ‘I eat plenty. Taeyong took me for food at 4, remember?’ I say, and my brother raises an eyebrow. ‘And what did you have?’ he asks. ‘A salad,’ I say, the boy shaking his head again. ‘Did Taeyong order that for you?’ he asks. ‘No, I ordered it myself,’ I lie, Jaehyun raising an eyebrow. ‘He’s just looking out for me,’ I say sulkily, and Jaehyun shrugs. ‘Whatever. Don’t come crying to me when you’re malnourished because all you eat is rabbit food,’ he says, and I stick my middle finger up at him, Jimin and Jungkook having watched the entire exchange with interest.

For the next ten minutes, the boys make conversation, getting to know one another as I nibble on an apple and sit on my phone, Nayeon texting me about how good looking her exchange student, Mark, is. Once they’re finished eating, I pick up all the plates and pile them into the dishwasher. ‘Do you guys wanna look around or do you wanna just save that for tomorrow and go to bed?’ I ask, Jungkook and Jimin exchanging a glance. ‘Um, I think we’ll just go to bed,’ Jimin says, the other boy nodding in agreement. Jaehyun and I walk them up to their rooms, me trailing behind the three of them. At this rate, it seems Jaehyun will end up with two exchange partners. Jaehyun stops at Jungkook’s room with him and I stop with Jimin at his room, the one opposite Jungkook’s. ‘So this is your room,’ I say, Jimin stepping in. He looks around, and I can see him trying to hide how impressed he is, just sitting at the edge of the bed as he takes everything in. ‘We start school at 9, so what time do you want waking up?’ I ask. ‘What time do you get up?’ he asks me. ‘Um, like, 6 usually,’ I say, and his eyes widen. ‘What for?’ he asks. ‘Well, I gotta shower, do hair and makeup, get changed. It takes a while,’ I say sheepishly, and he rolls his eyes. ‘I’m happy to wake up at 7.30,’ he says, and I nod, turning to the control pad set into the wall. I set an alarm for 7.30 and he watches with a mixture of interest and amazement.

‘Well, I guess I’ll see you in the morning, then. If you need anything, my room’s just next to yours, and I’ll obviously be awake from 6 onwards, so just come knock,’ I say, and he nods. ‘Thanks,’ he says before coughing awkwardly. ‘Do you need anything else?’ I ask, and he shakes his head. ‘Well, okay. Goodnight, then,’ I say, and he gives me a false close-lipped smile. I shut the door, sighing once it’s closed, and turn to see Jaehyun just retreating into his room, opposite mine and next to Jungkook’s. I head into my room, shutting the door behind me and flop down onto the bed. I was so excited about this exchange thing, and now I’m completely deflated. My exchange student hates me, and already prefers my brother. This is gonna be a hell of a long month.

‘Your love, your love, your love, I miss that,’ I sing gently as I dab colour correcting concealer beneath my eyes and on the few blemishes on my face before squirting my foundation in blobs on my cheeks, nose and forehead. My hair’s wrapped up in a towel and I have a towel wrapped around my body too, having gotten out of the shower just a little while ago. I’m still singing when I hear a quiet knock on the door. It must be Jaehyun; he usually wakes up around this time and comes bothering me for something or another. ‘Come in!’ I call out, watching in the mirror of my vanity table as the door swings open slightly, Jimin popping his purple head through. Damn. I forgot about him. ‘Sorry to, uh, disturb you, y/n,’ he says, a light blush painting his cheeks, mirrored on my own. ‘It’s fine. What’s up?’ I ask, trying to look as normal as possible with patches of green and yellow concealer on my face. ‘What do I have to wear to school? Do you guys have, like, a uniform or do you wear your own clothes?’ he asks. ‘We wear uniform, there’s one for you in the wardrobe. If there’s an issue with the sizing, Jaehyun has spares he’s never worn. You can get them from his room, next door to mine. You seem around the same size as him. Once you’re done getting ready and stuff, you can go down to the kitchen. Eunha will have breakfast ready,’ I say, and he nods. ‘Okay. Thanks,’ he says, leaving embarrassedly, and I nearly scream from mortification.

I try to put his face when he saw my face out of my mind as I finish off my makeup, dry my hair and moisturise my body. I briefly run a straightener over my locks until they’re straighter than a homophobic white man, and put on some black underwear, putting my pink silk dressing gown over the top. I slide my feet into my fluffy slippers and head down to the kitchen, just to have some breakfast before I get changed. When I walk in, Jaehyun, Jungkook and Jimin are all sat in the same seats as yesterday, plates piled high with a traditional English breakfast. ‘Morning,’ I say, picking a small piece of bacon off Jaehyun’s plate, ducking from his hand swatting out at me. ‘Morning,’ the three reply as I head over to the fridge, my eyes lighting up when I see what Eunha’s prepared for me today; a mason jar full of fruit, yoghurt and oats (she does it nearly every day, and I never get tired of it). I take it out, along with a new bottle of my juice, and sit opposite them, getting a spoon out of one of the island drawers. ‘That uniform suits you guys. You’ll fit in well,’ I say truthfully, both Jimin and Jungkook looking handsome in their checked blazers, blue shirts and black trousers. ‘Thanks,’ they reply. ‘There weren’t any issues with the sizing, right?’ I ask. ‘No, it all fits,’ Jungkook replies, Jimin nodding in agreement, and I want to hit my head off the marble island. Why is it so hard to get a conversation going with either of them? It’s not like I’m speaking a different language.

‘What’s the girl’s uniform?’ Jungkook asks, and I nearly jump for joy about him making conversation. ‘Oh, we wear skirts the same pattern as your blazers, knee high black socks, black cardigans – but no one really wears them – and blue blouses. It’s quite cute, actually,’ I say, knowing many people hate their uniforms. I mean, I guess ours is unfashionable and lowkey ugly, but with a little… customisation, us girls rock it. ‘Sounds it,’ Jungkook replies with a grin, and I smile back, Jaehyun looking between us with a raised eyebrow. ‘y/n, you might wanna hurry up. We’ve gotta leave in, like, half an hour,’ he says, and I roll my eyes. ‘I only have to get changed, I won’t be that long,’ I say. ‘Don’t you need to do your hair and makeup?’ he asks, knowing full well I’ve already done both. ‘Headass,’ I mutter, the three boys laughing. Great. Now, instead of two against one, it’s gonna be four against one.

Father walks in then, dressed in his work attire. Today’s suit is a grey check pattern I chose for him, and I must say, he looks very handsome. ‘Morning, kids,’ he says, heading to the fridge without a glance at us. ‘Morning, dad,’ Jaehyun and I chorus. ‘The exchange students are here, remember?’ I say, and father turns from the fridge to see Jimin and Jungkook sat on either side of his son. ‘Oh, welcome, boys. Sorry I didn’t have a chance to meet you last night, I was a little busy. I’m Jihwan,’ he says, holding out a hand to Jungkook. The boy takes it with a smile, introducing himself, before Jimin does the same, shaking my father’s hand with a charming smile. He didn’t smile at me like that. ‘How did you sleep, boys? Are the rooms sufficient?’ father asks. ‘They were great, thank you, sir,’ Jungkook says. ‘Oh, no, just call me Jihwan, son,’ father says before turning back to the fridge. He roots around for his breakfast when I can see it sat right in front of him. ‘There, daddy,’ I point out, and I hear Jimin cough behind me, nearly choking. I turn to see Jaehyun patting his back. ‘Do you want a drink, Jimin?’ I offer, and he shakes his head, still trying to clear his throat. ‘I’m good, thanks,’ he replies as father gets his plate out of the fridge.

‘What’s this?’ he asks, pulling a face at the plate in his hand. ‘It’s a vegetable omelette, daddy. It’s healthy,’ I say, and he looks at it disdainfully. ‘Here,’ I say, taking the plate from him. I put it into the microwave to reheat it, and put a couple slices of toast into the toaster as father takes the seat beside mine. ‘Why do I have to eat healthy?’ he complains, and I roll my eyes, taking another bite from my breakfast. ‘Because you eat unhealthy lunches nearly every day. Balance it out,’ I say. ‘I don’t eat unhealthily at lunch,’ he replies. ‘Meeting clients for lunch every day at posh restaurants probably isn’t as healthy as you think, daddy,’ I point out. ‘Yeah, y/n would know. Her and her man are practically nutritionists, you know. They watch their diets. Or rather, Tae watches y/n’s,’ Jaehyun says, and I give him a look, knowing I’m about to grilled. ‘What’s he talking about, sweetheart?’ father asks as I get his omelette out of the microwave. ‘Nothing, he’s just being silly,’ I reply as I take the toast out of the toast, spreading margarine onto it. I put the omelette on top of the toast and present it to father. ‘Thank you, sweetheart,’ he says, pressing a kiss to my temple.

‘I wouldn’t say him making you eat a salad is nothing,’ Jaehyun says, father raising an eyebrow at me. ‘He didn’t make me, I chose to,’ I reply as I pour father out some juice to go with his breakfast. ‘Sweetheart, if he’s controlling what you eat, I can speak to his parents,’ father begins, but I cut him off. ‘No! No. Daddy, it’s fine. We’re both eating healthy. He has salads too,’ I say pointedly, Jaehyun knowing Taeyong would rather die than eat a salad. ‘What did you have to eat yesterday?’ father asks, and I sigh. ‘I had one of these,’ I say, lifting up my mason jar, ‘for breakfast, I shared a stir fry with Nayeon at lunch when she came over, I had a salad with Taeyong at 4 and then an apple for dinner.’ ‘y/n, that’s one meal for me. You need to be eating more. If I don’t see a change in your diet, I’m putting you on a diet plan,’ father says, and I whine. ‘No, daddy, don’t. I’m fine. That’s more than enough food for me,’ I say, father shaking his head. ‘Don’t argue with me, y/n. Either change your diet yourself or I’ll change it for you,’ father says, and I pout, wanting to bang Jaehyun’s head against a wall. ‘Whatever. I’m going to get changed,’ I say, picking up my juice and trudging from the room. ‘You didn’t finish your breakfast!’ Jaehyun calls after me. ‘I’m not hungry!’ I call back in annoyance.

As soon as I get to my room, I throw off my dressing gown, fuming with Jaehyun for ratting me out like that. I’m eating plenty! And besides, there’s no space for women in our society who eat any more than what I eat now. If it makes father happy, I’ll start having a slice of toast with my breakfast. That won’t kill me. And then I’ll have a bigger dinner with them at home, and not eat at school. Perfect. I shrug my blouse on, buttoning it up, before pulling my socks on, tugging them up to my knees. My pleated skirt comes next, buttoned up along the side, and then I roll it up slightly, so it swishes around mid-thigh, before slipping on my school shoes, shiny black with a tiny, practically unnoticeable, heel on them, making me a couple centimetres taller. I put on all my jewellery; ring, earrings, bracelet and necklace, hairslides, all gold. I grab my black Tom Ford school bag – matching with Taeyong’s black Tom Ford backpack – and put in my phone, purse, charger, juice, on-the-go makeup bag, Chanel perfume, school books and pencil case. I head back downstairs, Jaehyun, Jungkook and Jimin all waiting at the door for me. Seeing Jimin stood up in his uniform, my heart pounds; he really is beautiful. ‘Sorry,’ I say sheepishly, embarrassed at them having to wait for me. ‘Whatever. Do you wanna go together or do you wanna take your own car?’ Jaehyun asks. ‘I’ll take my own car. Jimin, you can go with Jaehyun and Jungkook if you want?’ I offer, knowing he’d probably prefer to go with them than go with me. ‘No, it’s alright. I’ll come with you,’ he says, taking me by surprise and I nod with a smile, Jaehyun handing me my car keys. We head out the front door and spilt off to the two cars parked on the drive, Changwoo having moved them there for us.

Jimin and I climb into the Audi as Jaehyun and Jungkook get into the Mercedes, the two speeding off before I’ve even put my belt on. I put my bag in the back, Jimin doing the same, and I start up the car. ‘What do you wanna listen to?’ I ask Jimin, and he shrugs. ‘I don’t mind,’ he says. ‘No, you tell me. What kinda music do you like?’ I ask, and he thinks for a moment before answering, ‘I like RnB.’ ‘RnB’s my favourite. You’ve got good taste. Audi, play my RnB playlist,’ I say, Tory Lanez’s voice floating out of the car speakers a few moments later. ‘Do you allow eating in your car?’ he asks, and I nod, a bit confused. He reaches back into his bag and pulls out a bundle of tissues. He unwraps the tissues and I realise he’s brought an apple. He hands it to me, and I look over at him in confusion. ‘For me?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘Your brother and dad are right; by the sounds of it, you don’t eat enough. You didn’t even finish your breakfast. So have this,’ he says, and I take it with a smile, touched. ‘Thank you,’ I say.

‘It’s nothing. So, um, this Taeyong guy,’ he says, and I sigh, taking note of the grin that spreads across his face. ‘I know my dad and brother made him sound like an ass, but honestly, he’s a good guy. He’s just looking out for me. I used to struggle with my weight, and he cares about me. He doesn’t want to see me hate myself the way I used to. It might seem like he’s only doing it because he wants me to be skinny or whatever, but he’s doing it because he cares,’ I say, and he continues grinning as I take a bite of the apple. ‘I don’t know, he lowkey sounds like an ass,’ Jimin teases, and I roll my eyes. ‘Trust me, when you meet him, you’ll understand. Taeyong… he has good intentions,’ I say. ‘So what’s so great about this guy that you let him wife you?’ he asks, and I laugh to myself at his choice of words. ‘He, um… we were actually promised to each other. From childhood,’ I say, and Jimin’s mouth falls open. ‘You’re kidding? Don’t tell me that kind of stuff actually happens around here?’ he asks, and I nod. ‘My friendship group – there are twenty of us – all of our parents are friends, I guess. Associates. The ten boys and ten girls are all promised to each other. Me and Taeyong, Jaehyun and Mina, Nayeon and Johnny, Jihyo and Taeil, Tzuyu and Sicheng, Sana and Yuta, Chaeyoung and Mark, Momo and Jungwoo, Jeongyeon and Doyoung, and Dahyun and Haechan. In, like, five years’ time, we’ll most likely all be married to each other,’ I say, and Jimin shakes his head in disbelief. ‘So you don’t actually like this Taeyong guy?’ he asks. ‘No, I do. Of course I do. We fell for each other, despite being promised, I guess,’ I say, and he raises a sceptical eyebrow.

‘Well, this exchange thing will probably ruin some of these relationships, don’t you think?’ he says. ‘What do you mean?’ I ask. ‘I mean, rich kids have a reputation for being wild, you know? You don’t think a person of the opposite, or same, gender – you never know – living in their house will lead to any kind of cheating?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘We’ve all stayed… loyal for years, eighteen years to be precise, and you think that someone new living in our houses will change that? We go clubbing and stuff all the time, sometimes just on girls’ nights or boys’ nights, and nothing ever happens, so why would it now?’ I ask, and he shrugs, holding up his hands. ‘I don’t know. It’s just the rumours, you know?’ he says, and I shake my head. ‘You can’t always believe rumours,’ I reply, and he laughs. ‘So there weren’t any rumours about us poor kids, huh?’ he asks, and I nod. ‘Yeah, there were, but I knew better than to believe them,’ I say pointedly, and he whistles. ‘Well, I guess the kitty does have some claws. Forget I said anything, princess,’ he says, and I roll my eyes, wanting to change the topic.

‘Tell me about yourself, Jimin,’ I say. ‘What about me?’ he asks. ‘Anything. I don’t even know the first thing about you, just your name and your school,’ I say, and he laughs. ‘Well, um… my birthday’s the 13th October,’ he says. ‘You’re a Libra,’ I observe, and he rolls his eyes. ‘Don’t tell me you believe in all that star sign stuff? I’m always hearing it from Seulgi, that the reason she’s failing Spanish is because Mercury’s in repogay or something like that, and now I’ve gotta hear it from you too?’ he complains, and I supress a laugh. ‘Retrograde. Mercury’s in retrograde. But that doesn’t matter, who’s Seulgi?’ I ask, and he shakes his head. ‘She’s just a friend. She’s on this exchange too, actually,’ he says, and I nod, wondering who’s partner she is. ‘Who’s she been put with?’ I ask, and he shrugs. ‘I don’t know, we weren’t on the same coach,’ he says, and I nod. That means they can’t be that close, otherwise they’d have been texting last night and he’d know who her partner is. Not that it matters anyway.

‘Well, what else is there to know about Park Jimin?’ I ask, and he grins. ‘I’m a drug dealer,’ he says lightly, and I laugh. ‘I’m being serious, Jimin, I wanna know more about you,’ I say, and he sighs. ‘I live with my younger brother and my parents on top of the bakery they own, so the house always smells like cake and bread and cookies and stuff,’ he says. It makes sense; that’s why I could smell baked goods last night. ‘Oh, my God, that’s so cute. Imagine how amazing that must be, the house always smelling of baking. I love that smell,’ I say happily, and he lets out a gentle laugh. ‘Not when you’re trying to be a tough guy, but your clothes smell like an old lady’s with too many grandkids,’ he says, and I laugh. ‘No, baking is a manly smell. I bet you get so many girls smelling like that,’ I joke, and he chuckles. ‘Yeah, loads,’ he replies with a smile.

‘So what are your parents and brother like?’ I ask, and he shrugs. ‘My parents are really chill. They don’t really put much pressure on me to do anything, just kinda go with the flow, but I know they want me to take over the bakery when I’m older. I wouldn’t mind it, but I guess I have other dreams. And then, my brother’s like a mini me. We’re really similar, so we argue a lot, but he’s like my best friend,’ he says, his words melting my heart. ‘That’s cute. It’s nice to hear that you have a good relationship with your brother; so many people at school practically hate their siblings,’ I say. ‘Not you and your brother, though,’ he says, and I nod. ‘People are always so surprised to find out me and Jaehyun are siblings because of how well we get on. I couldn’t imagine life without him,’ I say, and he nods. ‘Even if he does snitch to your dad about you undereating,’ he says, and I laugh, nodding. ‘He means well. Knowing him, he’ll probably make a dig about it to Taeyong today,’ I say as we pull into the school car park. ‘I would if I were him,’ Jimin says, and I roll my eyes.

‘It’s not Taeyong’s fault. Please, just… don’t prejudge him. He’s a good guy,’ I say, and Jimin shrugs. ‘I don’t know why you care. It’s not like my opinion of him matters,’ he says as I pull into my parking space, Jaehyun’s Mercedes on one side of us and Taeyong’s BMW on the other. ‘I still want people to like him. You always want people to like your boyfriend or girlfriend, right?’ I say, and he shrugs again. ‘I wouldn’t know. I’ve never had one,’ he says, and my mouth drops open. ‘No way,’ I say, and he nods. ‘It’s not that weird, you know? A lot of people don’t have boyfriends or girlfriends, and never have at this age,’ he says, and I nod. ‘I know, I know. It’s just… me and all of my friends have always had a boyfriend or girlfriend. The same one, since childhood. And even though me and Taeyong aren’t actually official, I can’t imagine life without a romantic figure in it,’ I say, and he tilts his head in confusion. ‘You’re not official?’ he asks. ‘No, we’re not. Neither of us have ever actually asked the other out,’ I say. ‘I guess you never have to if you’re already practically engaged,’ he says, and I nod in agreement, finishing off the apple.

‘Let’s go. I’ll introduce you to everyone,’ I say, reaching into the back to grab my bag. He grabs his bag too, and we both get out of the car. I lock it after us and lead him towards the courtyard, making idle conversation about today’s lessons. When we reach the courtyard, everyone’s already there, and our group has doubled due to the exchange students. Taeyong spots us first and heads over. ‘Let me guess; Taeyong?’ Jimin says under his breath. ‘Bingo,’ I reply, and he chuckles as Taeyong meets us in the middle of the courtyard. ‘Hey, babe,’ he says, snaking his arms around my waist and leaning down to press a kiss to my lips. I pull away after a couple seconds, knowing it’s probably awkward for Jimin. ‘Jimin, this is Lee Taeyong. Taeyong, this is Park Jimin,’ I introduce them. Taeyong grins at the purple-haired boy, holding out his hand, and Jimin shakes it firmly. ‘Nice to meet you,’ Taeyong says, and I notice his eyes flitting up and down Jimin, inspecting him thoroughly. ‘You too, bro,’ Jimin says, the casual term that no one around here uses catching both of us off-guard, Jimin noticing instantly. ‘Oh, my bad. Do you guys not speak like that?’ he asks, and I shake my head with a smile. ‘It’s alright. I have a feeling that in a couple days, all the Winchester boys will be calling each other bro,’ I say, both of them laughing. ‘Cool hair,’ Taeyong says to Jimin who grins at him. ‘Thanks. Yours is cool, too. I wanna go grey soon,’ Jimin says, referring to Taeyong’s newly grey locks, the result of a very messy group night out. ‘Thanks. Come on, come meet the others,’ Taeyong says, taking my bag from me, ever the gentleman.

Nayeon comes rushing over before we can even join the group, pressing a kiss to my cheek as Taeyong carries on, going to sit beside Jihyo and Taeil. ‘Hey, babes,’ she says, and I kiss her cheek back. ‘Hey, Nayeon. This is Park Jimin. Jimin, this is Im Nayeon,’ I say, and they shake hands. ‘You’re really good-looking, you know that?’ Nayeon says shamelessly, and I close my eyes wearily. ‘I didn’t actually, but thanks,’ Jimin laughs it off, and Nayeon laughs with him. ‘Here, let me get Johnny,’ Nayeon says, turning and calling for the boy who strolls over straight away. ‘Hey, y/n,’ Johnny says, pulling me into a side hug. For some reason, we all have a habit of hugging and kissing when we greet each other, despite spending hours together every day. ‘Hey, Johnny. This is Park Jimin. Jimin, this is Johnny Seo,’ I say again, and predictably, they shake hands in greeting. ‘Damn, no homo, but you’re one good-looking guy,’ Johnny says, and I look up to the sky despairingly. Every introduction goes similarly; they greet me, I introduce Jimin, they shake hands with him and compliment his appearance (he even gets a compliment on his lips from Sana). And once I’ve done all the introductions, Jimin turns to grin at me. ‘I don’t think I remember any of their names, but we move,’ he says, and I frown. ‘We move?’ I repeat, confused. ‘It’s an expression for like… whatever, life goes on. We move. But, anyway, let me introduce you to the BTS lot,’ he says. ‘BTS?’ I ask, feeling incredibly unintelligent at not understanding something he’s said twice in a row. ‘Burnley Tech School,’ he says before gently wrapping his hand around my wrist and leading me over to the boy I recognise as Jihyo’s partner.

‘Hey, Joon,’ Jimin says, the taller boy turning to face us. ‘Oh, hey, Chim,’ he says, my heart melting at the endearing nickname. ‘Chim, huh?’ I tease, and he rolls his eyes. ‘Don’t, princess,’ he mocks, and I swat at him. It’s almost like we’ve known each other for years, bickering like this. ‘Joon, this is y/n. y/n, this is Kim Namjoon,’ Jimin says, and I reach a hand out. The grey-haired boy takes it and shakes it firmly with a smile, dimples denting his cheeks. ‘Nice to meet you, Kim Namjoon,’ I say, and his smile widens. ‘It’s nice to meet you too, y/n,’ he says. ‘Have you met Jaehyun? They’re twins,’ Jimin says, Namjoon nodding with a look of realisation. ‘Ah, I can kinda see the resemblance,’ he says. ‘Don’t offend me,’ I joke, and he laughs. ‘Namjoon! Come meet Jennie!’ Jihyo calls and he sighs. ‘Duty calls,’ he says, and I grin. ‘Nope, just my chaotic best friend,’ I say, and he laughs. ‘It was nice to meet you, y/n,’ he calls over his shoulder as he goes to join Jihyo and Jennie, another boy stood beside them who must be Jennie’s exchange partner.

‘Kai got put with that girl, then. It’s interesting seeing everyone else’s pairs, don’t you think?’ Jimin says, and I nod in agreement. ‘His name’s Kai?’ I ask, and Jimin nods. ‘Well, that’s his nickname anyway,’ Jimin says. ‘Well, he’s Jennie’s type to a t, so that’ll be interesting,’ I say, and Jimin raises an eyebrow. ‘Yeah, I guess it will. Namjoon liked you,’ he says, and I feel a little buzz of happiness. Nothing makes me feel better than finding out I’m liked. ‘You think?’ I ask, and he nods. ‘I know. You charmed the hell out of him,’ he says, and I laugh. ‘I can’t help. I guess I’m a natural charmer,’ I say affectedly, and he rolls his eyes. ‘Calm down, Mrs Lee,’ he says, and I roll my eyes in response as someone approaches us. ‘Jimin, hey,’ the boxy smile boy says, putting an arm around Jimin. ‘Hey, Tae,’ Jimin says, and I feel my eyes widen. I can’t imagine Taeyong liking that someone else now shares his name. ‘Tae, this is y/n. y/n, this is Kim Taehyung,’ Jimin says, the boy shaking my hand with a flirty grin. ‘Nice to meet you, y/n,’ he says, and I grin back. ‘Nicer for me, I’m sure. Who are you paired with?’ I ask him. ‘Tzuyu. She’s nice,’ he says, and I smile. ‘Yeah, Tzuyu’s lovely. Just, uh, try not to get on her bad side,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘Is she a princess like you?’ Jimin teases, and I poke my tongue out at him.

Slowly but surely, I meet Jimin’s other friends. Min Yoongi, the short curly-haired gummy smile one, paired with Dahyun. Jung Hoseok, the heart-shaped smile boy, paired with Momo, who excitedly informs me that, ‘we’re both dancers!’ Kim Seokjin, the ridiculously good-looking boy with the plump lips, Sana’s partner. Mark Tuan, Nayeon’s partner that she was gushing about last night, and he is, indeed, very good-looking (not that the rest of them aren’t. They practically all are). Chaeyoung’s partner goes by Wendy, and she’s so pretty like the other girls; Mina’s partner, Irene, Doyoung’s partner, Yeri, and Johnny’s partner, Joy (Nayeon and Jeongyeon are not happy their boyfriends have been paired with such pretty girls - as am I, if I’m being honest - but what can we do?) Jeongyeon’s been paired with a boy called Do Kyungsoo, and I spot Doyoung sharking him from a few metres away, the sight having me stifling my laughter. Haechan’s been put with a boy called Kim Yugyeom and Sicheng’s been put with a boy called Choi Youngjae, much to Dahyun and Tzuyu’s delight. Taeil’s with a boy called Chen, Yuta’s with a boy called Lay, Jungwoo’s with a boy called Xiumin, and Mark’s with a boy called Suho. Then there’s Kai, paired with Jennie Kim, and then Jennie’s friends’ partners; Lisa Manoban with Bambam, Kim Jisoo with Byun Baekhyun and Park Chaeyoung (or Rosie as we call her) with Jackson Wang (who is one of the most beautiful specimens I’ve seen in my life). Kim Jisoo’s boyfriend, Park Jinyoung, is paired with a boy called Im Jaebeom, or JB as he tells me to call him (Nayeon goes around and tells everyone they’re siblings because they share the same surname. Namjoon jokes that he must have dozens of siblings at this school in that case). Rosie’s boyfriend, Park Chanyeol, is paired with a boy called Oh Sehun, all of us finding his surname immensely amusing.

Whilst I’m having a conversation with Rosie, Jackson, Chanyeol, Sehun and Jimin, Taeyong appears and slides an arm around my waist. ‘You still haven’t met my partner,’ he says, leading me away from the others. ‘I’m not sure I want to,’ I reply, and he chuckles. ‘Why not?’ ‘Because I saw her yesterday, and she’s gorgeous,’ I say, and he laughs again. ‘Not a patch on you,’ he says, and I raise an eyebrow. ‘Okay, yeah, she is pretty. But I’m more attracted to you than I am to her,’ he says, knowing how I feel about being mean about people’s appearances. ‘But, even if I was attracted to her, don’t act all jealous now. You’re not jealous about all those other girls I sleep with,’ he says, and I sigh. ‘Yeah, because they’re all one-time things. I don’t mind you sleeping with her; it’s just the living in your house and meeting your parents I don’t like. Remember, even if I’m not your girlfriend, I’m the one you’re going to marry. I still feel uncomfortable about this, you know?’ I say, and he nods at me. I can tell he’s trying to hold back a smirk, and I want to kick him for being so cocky. ‘I know. Trust me, I’m not too happy about purple-haired model boy living with you, not to mention the other cute bunny kid being there too. But it is what it is,’ he says, and I feel a bit of satisfaction about him being jealous too.

‘Seulgi,’ Taeyong says as we reach her, the girl turning to face us, her hair swishing around her face glamorously. So this is the astrology girl Jimin mentioned in the car. ‘This is y/n. y/n, this is Kang Seulgi,’ Taeyong says. I decide to be the bigger person and put my friendly smile on, holding a hand out. I’m taken aback when she throws her arms around me, pulling me into a hug, and I try not to stiffen up completely, hugging her back as naturally as one can hug a stranger. Taeyong stifles a laugh at my face over her shoulder, coughing to cover up the smile when she moves away from me. ‘It’s so nice to meet you. Taeyong’s told me all about you,’ she says with a wide smile, and I feel a bit bad for thinking ill of her. ‘Has he?’ I ask, raising an eyebrow at him, and he smirks. ‘Yeah, he’s a bit… whipped over you it seems,’ she says, and both of us give her a confused face. ‘Whipped?’ I ask, and she looks a bit surprised. ‘Oh, it just means, like… damn, what’s that posh word? Um… smitten!’ she exclaims when she remembers. ‘Ohhh,’ we both chorus in understanding, Taeyong frowning. ‘I wouldn’t put it like that,’ he begins, and I roll my eyes. ‘Grow up, Lee, we all know you love me,’ I tease, Seulgi laughing. Maybe she’s not that bad after all.

‘You two are so cute together. His parents love you too, they were talking about you last night,’ she says, and I feel a bit of heat rush to my face out of satisfaction. ‘What were they saying?’ I ask, and she smiles. ‘A lot. They said you’d be a good person for me to be friends with. They said to definitely go shopping with you because you have a nice fashion sense. Oh, and they said you’re a great influence on Taeyong. They said you make sure you never let him be led… what’s the word they used?’ she thinks. ‘Astray,’ Taeyong says, and she nods. ‘That was it,’ she says, and I smile. ‘Well, I love them too. The Lee family is amazing, you’re definitely lucky to be put with them. Is your sister visiting any time soon? It’d be nice for Seulgi to meet her,’ I say, directing the last bit at Taeyong. ‘I don’t know. I’ll have to text her or something,’ he says, and I nod. ‘That’d be nice. And we’ll have to make some plans for shopping together, y/n. Your partner’s Jimin, right?’ she asks, and I nod. ‘All four of us could go together. Or we could even invite some of the others,’ she says eagerly, and I nod again, thinking it’s a bit too soon to be making plans together. They only arrived less than 24 hours ago. ‘Definitely,’ I say, just before getting dragged off by Nayeon to compare my height to Mark Tuan’s (he says he’s 5’9’’, but Nayeon insists he’s taller than that).

Once all the introductions are done, and my head is full of names and faces that I’m struggling to match up, Miss Jung appears out of nowhere. ‘Students! It’s currently 9.25. You’re all late to your lessons,’ she says, all of the Winchester students groaning, knowing that if you’re later than five minutes, you get an hour-long detention. Imagine all 100 odd of us packed into one classroom together after school. It’ll be chaos. ‘But, I’m glad you’re all getting to know each other,’ she says with a smile, and I sigh in relief. ‘Can you all make your way to your lessons promptly? With your exchange partners. Oh, and we have an assembly at 11.30,’ she says, people already beginning to talk again as we walk towards the entrance, ‘do not be late!’

‘Wait, so let me get this straight. You guys are all gonna marry each other?’ Hoseok demands, all of us nodding. ‘But… do you even all love each other?’ Namjoon asks, and we all give some very half-hearted affirmations. ‘That sounded convincing,’ Yoongi says sarcastically, a laugh rippling around the group. ‘Well, I think it’s romantic,’ Yeri says. ‘Romantic? Outdated, you mean?’ Youngjae says, Yeri shaking her head. ‘You don’t think there’s something totally adorable about them being promised to each other since they were tiny little kids? It’s like destiny or something,’ she says. ‘Destiny is not when your parents decide who you’re gonna marry in like twenty-five years’ time, Yeri,’ Taehyung says exasperatedly.

‘y/n,’ Jimin says quietly, only catching my attention, the debate around the lunch table continuing. ‘Yeah?’ I reply. ‘Aren’t you eating?’ he asks, and I shake my head. ‘I’m not really that hungry,’ I say, and he raises an eyebrow. ‘What? That apple filled you up?’ he asks, and I hold back a laugh as I nod. ‘Honestly, I’m fine. I don’t need to eat,’ I say. ‘Well, you kinda do. Just have something. What kind of snacks do you guys have here?’ Jimin asks. ‘Um, well, on a Monday, they do caviar and oysters,’ I say, and he blinks. ‘Caviar and oysters? Seriously? You guys aren’t that posh. Posh, but not that posh,’ he says. ‘I know, but we’re… rich, and rich people like eating stupid things,’ I say. ‘Yeah, but they do burgers and pizza and normal things for lunch, so why caviar and oysters as snacks?’ he asks. ‘Look around at what people are eating,’ I say, and he does so. All of the Winchester students are eating salads or fish or cheeses, and all the BTS students are eating ‘normal things’, like burgers and pizza. ‘They’ve only put this food on for us guys, right?’ he says, realising, and I nod, seeing no point in lying to him. ‘So do you guys not eat the kind of stuff we do?’ he asks, and I nod. ‘We do. Just not in public. We only eat that kind of stuff at home. Or after a night out,’ I say, and he laughs. ‘I’ve gotta go on one of these legendary nights out you guys keep talking about,’ he says, and I grin. ‘Trust me, they’re the best. You won’t remember most of it, but what you do remember will be a mixture of iconic and chaotic,’ I say, the boy chuckling. ‘I’m feeling like I might have to get super drunk to enjoy this night,’ he jokes, and I let out a laugh, putting a hand on his arm unconsciously as we laugh together. ‘It won’t be that bad. I think,’ I say, Jimin laughing. I’ve noticed that when he laughs, his eyelids practically cover his eyes, his smile breaks across his whole face and he does a full body laugh. It’s quite endearing, actually.

‘Jimin, tell Momo about the time you found that gecko in our hotel room,’ Hoseok says, barely able to get the words out because of how hard he’s laughing, and I make a mental note to ask Jimin afterwards about the time he found the gecko in the hotel room. I would listen to him telling the story now, but I make eye contact with Taeyong across the table and he does a little head movement as if to say, ‘get up’. I rise up from my seat, Taeyong doing the same, and we both walk towards the end of the table. When we meet, he grabs my arm in a subtly firm grip, not painful but not exactly comfortable either. He leads me out of the cafeteria, telling me to ignore the calls of our names from our friends. He carries on walking me down the corridor, looking through the windows into each classroom until he finds an empty one, kicking open the door and pulling me in after him.

‘I know I said earlier that ‘it is what it is’ but you don’t need to rub it in my face,’ he says, and I frown. ‘Rub it in your face? What are you talking about?’ I ask, and he lets out a harsh chuckle. His handsome and striking features are twisted slightly with annoyance, not enough for me to think he’s seriously angry. Just… riled. ‘Park motherfucking Jimin. Talking to him quietly, almost whispering, and laughing with him. Putting your hand on his arm like that,’ he says, and I look at him in confusion. ‘Tae, I was just talking to him. Nothing more,’ I say, and he lets out a humourless laugh before saying, ‘that’s not what it looked like.’ ‘Well, what did it look like?’ I demand, taking a step towards him. ‘It looked like you were flirting with him, y/n,’ he says harshly, taking a step towards me. ‘Well, I wasn’t, Taeyong,’ I reply, starting to get annoyed with him, taking another step closer. ‘It sure looked like it, though, and how am I supposed to take your word for it? Remember, babe, you only flirt with me in front of me,’ he reminds me, moving even closer.

He’s not wrong; part of our… agreement is that we can sleep with other people, but we can never show sign of any other relations with anyone else in front of each other. We both stick to it, never dancing with someone else in a club if the other can see, flirting with someone else if the other is present, telling the other about our sexcapades. I felt uncomfortable not knowing when he’d been with someone else though, so we added into the agreement that we have to let the other know when we have slept with someone. Not who with, when, where, how, why. Nothing other than that we have. Obviously, to Taeyong, I’ve just broken the agreement, and I understand why he’s so annoyed. ‘Okay, I promise you, I wasn’t flirting with him, but I’m sorry if that’s how I made it seem,’ I say, and he laughs darkly. ‘I’m not letting you off that easy, babe,’ he says, moving even closer to me and tilting my chin up so our eyes meet. He presses his lips to mine, my eyes sliding shut at the feeling, and he kisses me roughly, not holding back at all. His hands slide into my hair, pulling me even closer to him, and I melt into his body, my hands resting on either side of his sculpted face. After a couple minutes, he breaks away from me, both of us slightly breathless. He reaches out behind him, turning the lock on the door, and turns back to me with a grin, his expression almost sinister. ‘On your knees, babe,’ he says, unbuckling his belt with a dark smirk, ‘you’re gonna make it up to me.’

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mycupoffanfiction · 6 years ago

Text

His Second Chance Part 3

Bucky x Reader

His Second Chance Masterlist

Bucky comes back from Wakanda with Steve, ready to begin his recovery from his days as the Winter Soldier, but there’s one thing he doesn’t take into account - you.

Warnings: Smutty thoughts, language, angst, fluff.

Word count: Approx 2100

Masterlist

500 FOLLOWERS... WHAT?! I can’t believe 500 people want read my little stories, but thank you for the all of the lovely support! I’ve made a few friends on here since I started posting and seeing the regular readers on my blog kinda melts my heart because you like my writing enough to keep coming back and saying cute things and my heart is just aHHH.

Please don’t hesitate to leave suggestions or thoughts! TAG LISTS ARE OPEN! (Permanent and His Second Chance lists)

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Knock, knock, knock.

What an odd time for someone to be visiting your room. It was ten o’clock at night. You got up from your computer, your videogame paused as you padded across the floor in nothing but a large woollen jumper, your underwear and a pair of frilly socks. You weren’t too concerned about people seeing you in so few clothes, you’d changed into your combat gear in front of nearly everyone at least once, so it wasn’t like none of them had seen you in your underwear. You opened the door. Except for him.

Bucky stood, surprised eyes trailing up and down your figure for a moment, his deep blue eyes were much less harsh and cold than they had been in the first couple of days and were much softer now. Perhaps you were just used to Bucky now, but he didn’t seem so intimidating anymore.

Holy shit. Is she wearing anything under that jumper? Bucky almost gawked at the sight of your soft, bare legs. He so desperately wanted to reach out and touch your smooth skin, squeeze your thighs a little, feel them in his hands. No, stop it, stop Barnes. Control. Yourself. “Is there something wrong? Did I forget to shave a spot?” You wondered out loud, looking down at your legs, tilting your whole body at the middle to look, your beautiful hair cascading down. Bucky almost smiled at how cute you were, but he contained the smile, maintaining an inside smile. “N-no, sorry.” Bucky managed to get out. Stop fucking staring, my god!

“Um, could you show me how to- I don’t know how to.” Bucky huffed at himself as he held up a DVD. “You want me to show you how to load that up?” You ask, pointing at the Star Wars DVD case he held in his hand. Bucky nodded, a bit more enthusiastically than intended. “Come on, I’ll show you.” You smiled, up at him, quickly bounding over to your PC to save your game just in case.

Oh. My. Good fucking lord. Bucky found himself completely frozen as you sat on the floor in front of him, butt in the air, pretty red panties caught slightly between your cheeks, your jumper lifting just enough that Bucky had a slight view of your butt as you fiddled with the cables in the TV stand. You had no idea he could see, thinking your jumper covered it well enough. You should stop looking. No, look, it’s beautiful, she’s beautiful- no, Christ Barnes, cool it. Deeeep breath, she wouldn’t want you looking, it’s not fair. “Here we go!” You grinned over your shoulder, Bucky’s eyes immediately flicking to yours, hoping that you didn’t just catch him staring at your behind.

“Did you want to try sitting on the sofa?” You asked, pointing at it as you got to your feet, bouncing a little. “Uh, yeah.” No, should’ve said no thank you. He nodded, stepping back so the backs of his knees were pressed against the sofa. “Okay, so this button pauses it, that one turns it off, oh and this changes the volume.” You pointed at the TV remote buttons. Bucky barely took in anything you said as he stared at you, the image of your pretty little butt in the air was well engrained in his mind and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to concentrate on the movie now. “Will you watch it with me?” He blurted out as you started to walk away. Bucky didn’t look you in the eyes as you spun on your heels to look at him, a huge grin making it’s way onto your lips. “You sure you want me to watch with you?” You asked, just to make sure. Bucky nodded, shifting awkwardly in his step. “Alright, let me get some cushions and blankets.” You beamed up at him before bounding off to find what you needed.

You were cuddly, there was no doubt about that, but you were especially cuddly during movies and you didn’t want to make Bucky uncomfortable, so you opted to bring a whole host of cushions from your room for you to snuggle up to instead. By the time you came back to the living room, Bucky was still standing completely still in front of the sofa and you paused. “Do you want to try sitting, Buck? Or should I get you a dining chair?” You asked, glancing over at the dining table through the open archway on the other side of the room. Bucky shook his head, you weren’t sure if that was a no to sitting or a no to the dining chair, so you stood and waited for a moment.

Come on, you did it with the dining chair, you can do it with the sofa. You saw how happy she was when you sat on the chair, if you sit on the sofa you might get to see that fucking adorable smile again. Bucky coaxed himself into it, finally, he dropped himself onto the sofa. He was as stiff as a board as he stared blankly ahead. Ooh this feels weird, so weird. Bucky looked over to see you absolutely brimming with excitement, a huge goofy, sweet grin on your lips as you bounced on the balls of your feet a little. How is she so happy for your small achievements? Is this even an achievement? She barely knows you and she’s all excited about you sitting on a goddamn sofa.

“Is this okay?” You asked, collapsing down close to him, but not so close that you were touching. “Mhm.” Bucky nodded. No, I wish you were closer. “Want a blanket?” You offered, holding up the corner of a bright purple soft blanket. “No, thanks.” He shook his head. Bucky watched as you draped the blanket over yourself and cuddled up to your cushions. He watched as you shuffled and struggled to get comfortable as the beginning of the film started. More of his attention was on you than the film as he watched you try to get comfy. His eyes widened when you held one of your cushions close to your chest and stuffed another one between your legs. Damn cushions why aren’t I between her-. Bucky cleared his throat, making you glance at him. Why am I not one of those cushions? Cool it with the dirty thoughts Barnes.

You got to about a third of the way into the movie, Bucky was fully engrossed at this point, but you were falling asleep. Bucky felt a little flutter on his arm and he froze up, stiffening and clenching all of his muscles. You’d accidentally touched his arm in your sleepy haze and Bucky immediately sat up in a bit of a panic, waking you up in the process. You quickly realised your hand was on his arm and you quickly retracted it. Shit, shit, shit. “I’m so sorry.” You breathed out. Bucky looked angry, his piercing glare fixed on you as if he was about to push you away or get angry at you. The way his eyes darkened and glared at you absolutely terrified you. He’s mad at you, shit he’s really mad, you fucked up. He’s gonna shout at you or shut you out or something. Panic bubbled in your chest and you felt your cheeks burn bright red, your breathing becoming uneven as you quickly sat up. “I’m so sorry.” You stressed, uttering apologies under your breath before bolting out of the room.

Bucky’s heart broke seeing you so panicked. What had he done? Was it the way he looked at you? He wasn’t sure, but he knew he didn’t want you to go away. His heart sank as he sat back on the sofa. He really didn’t want you to go. He promised himself he wouldn’t stiffen up like that when you next touched him, he couldn’t because it scared you. Because he scared you.

“Whoa!” Steve exclaimed as you practically threw yourself at him in the corridor, Steve letting his water bottle he was going to refill drop to the floor to embrace you. “I touched Bucky by accident and now he’s mad and- and.” You blurted out. Little did you know that Bucky could hear you from the living room. Oh… She thinks you were mad at her. He didn’t think he could ever be mad at you. Bucky listened to your panicked state. Well you really fucked that one up, the poor girl’s panicking to Steve because she thinks you were mad at her. Great job Barnes.

“It’s alright, it was an accident, you didn’t mean to.” Steve tried to calm you, his voice soothing you and Bucky could only imagine the way that Steve was holding you. Maybe swaying you gently from side to side. He wanted to do that. “I’m sure he wasn’t really mad at you.” Steve continued. Listen to Steve, (Y/n), he’s right. Before Bucky could even think about what he was doing, he abandoned the movie and began walking down the hallway towards you both.

Can’t back out now, Steve’s clocked you, (Y/n) can probably hear you too. Steve looked over at Bucky, he knew he hadn’t meant to seem angry; Bucky had shown on more than one occasion that he obviously liked you. He seemed to respond so well to your efforts, unlike Steve who he was still quite stubborn with, despite being closer to him. Steve just wasn’t sure if Bucky had taken to you because of your sweet personality or because you were undeniably beautiful, perhaps a bit of both.

Bucky couldn’t quite find the right words, his mouth stayed dropped open, little stutters making their way out of his throat as he stood behind you, his gaze softening as you stayed glued to Steve. “I’m sorry Bucky.” Your voice was muffled. “I didn’t mean to.” You said into Steve’s chest. Please don’t be upset, please. Bucky didn’t know what to say and before he could even stop himself, his hand reached out slowly and rested on your shoulder. Steve looked at him surprised, but Bucky didn’t see it, he only saw the way you froze for a moment, realising that Bucky was touching you.

You slowly turned, letting go of Steve, who took a few steps away from you both, still on the side if you needed him, but away enough that he wasn’t involved in your interaction. Bucky’s hand remained on your shoulder, your warmth under his palm soothed him. Touch was strange for him, at the same time as it feeling nice, he expected it to hurt and he had to force himself not to move away like you’d burned him. The fear and pain quickly subsided as you both locked eyes, staring at each other. “M’not mad.” Bucky mumbled, eyes soft and full of worry. Please believe me. Bucky’s heart was beating fast in his chest, he was sure Steve could hear it from where he was standing. “Can I touch you?” You squeaked out, Bucky nodded and took his hand off your shoulder.

You slowly reached out with your delicate fingers; eyes trained on his flesh hand. Bucky stayed still, but calm as you extended your arm, fingers curling slightly as your hand neared his. Your fingertips gently grazed the back of his hand and you paused, looking up at him to check if it was okay. He gave you a little nod of approval and you gently slipped your fingers around his hand, going slowly until you were holding his hand properly. Bucky slowly closed his fingers around yours, on the inside he was screaming, but the outside was as void and as plain as usual.

You hadn’t even noticed that Steve had left the two of you alone in the hallway while you shared your moment together. “Thank you for trusting me.” You whispered and you paused for a moment, seeing the edges of his lips twitch up into a smile that lasted only for a split second. Did Bucky just smile? Bucky just smiled. And it was because of you.

Bucky trusted you and it was the greatest feeling.

You’re not ready for this, you idiot. Bucky felt like his skin was on fire while you touched him. You were so soft, so gentle, he wanted to enjoy it, god, he really fucking did, but he just couldn’t. The way your face lit up was addictive to him, he just wanted to see you happy, even if it meant sacrificing his own comfort. Seeing him try made you happy, even if it wasn’t what he wanted, but he’d never tell you that.

He couldn’t.

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Permanent Tag List:

@shygirl-00 @swanlakemikey @scuzmunkie @paintballkid711 @lovelylilia @mapreza1 @love-bucky-3000 @cals-cigarette @scarlett-berserker @2407zzz @mercurybarnes @mywinterwolf

His Second Chance Tag List:

@socialheartbreak @whatsupbucky @yesno18 @just-a-littlebit-of-everything @crystallstaircase @megantje123 @fantua @lady-x-red

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zombiesbecrazy · 6 years ago

Text

knowing his value

Summary: He didn’t have much to go on, this was his first kidnapping after all, but this all seemed a little bit lazy.

AO3

Being held hostage sucked, these guys completely lack originality, and frankly, Tim was bored.

He didn’t have much to go on, this was his first kidnapping after all, but this all seemed a little bit lazy. They didn’t have a guard in his room and the door wasn’t even locked to where they were were waiting for their ransom demands to be met. His wrists and feet were bound, but the knots were loose and simple and they were practically begging for him to escape them which was easy as pie for Robin, but Tim Drake had to sit quiet and wait for a pick up.

Or did he? He was clever and independent. Was there any good reason that Tim Drake couldn’t find his own way out of this specific kidnapping?

He was certain that this was a training exercise. To see what he could do if kidnapped in his civilian attire to see how he would be able to adapt and improvise in an undercover situation. It made a lot of sense.

Besides the chair he was sitting in, which he wasn’t even tied to, the room was empty and plain, with only the one door and the half window that was up high near the ceiling. It felt like it was a movie stage and not a real place and maybe the kidnappers had chosen it for that very reason, because they were rookies and hadn’t done this before so based everything that they knew off gangster movies and cop shows.

The first thing that he had to do was to get out of his ropes, but if he was Tim he couldn’t just undo the knots. It had to be sloppy with just a little bit of luck thrown in for it to be believable. Robin would have known to do his hands first and then just untie his feet, but Tim wouldn’t have considered that in the confusion, so instead he wiggled free of his shoes first, glad that he hadn’t bothered to tie them before he got snatched, and then worked his sock feet against each other, wincing a bit as the rope burned against his skin as it rubbed, but after a bit of effort there was enough give to slip one foot out, and then the other.

He then set to work on the ropes tying his hands. It was a more traditional material, not metal cords or cabling, but there was not as much give as there had been on his feet. so he tried to think of what he would do as a regular panicked thirteen year old who didn’t study the ins and outs of escaping from Riddler traps on a nightly basis would do. He bit the rope and started tugging at the knot, trying to loosen it from the tightest point with his teeth. He was making good headway when there was a sharp snap of pain, followed by a taste of blood in his mouth and he spat out of wire from his so-called-permanent retainer onto the floor.

That was unfortunate because he really didn’t want to have to go to the dentist at the end of all this.

He tugged a few more times until the rope went slack on one side and he was able to untie the rest of the knot. Now that he was free, he had to get out of the room. He couldn’t go out the door, because Tim Drake was sort of a scrawny kid who couldn’t fight his way out of a paper bag, let alone through a room of armed men, which only left the window as an option.

It was small, but not small enough that Tim couldn’t fit through, and it was high up, but that was nothing that dragging the chair from across the room couldn’t solve, and he could reach the window as long as he stood on his tiptoes. The issue was getting the window open. The pane was double thick and had wiring between the layers so he couldn’t smash it, even if he didn’t have to worry about his captors hearing him. There a simple key padlock, easy to pick if you had the right tools, but Tim didn’t have anything in his pockets and the rest of the room was bare and he had to pause to think about what he was going to do next.

He chewed on his lip as he looked around the room, trying to decide if Tim Drake would be smart enough to detach one of the fluorescent lights to try and find out if any of the filaments were strong enough to try and pick the lock, with when he was reminded of the cut in his mouth, blood slowing, but still there.

The wire that had broken off from his retainer. It was still lying in the middle of the floor. It wasn’t perfect for lock picking but it would work in a pinch, as long as Tim had a reason to know how to do it.

Worth a shot.

Tim shaped the wire into a more useful shape than the curve of his teeth and set to work on the locks. He had to be more careful than normal, knowing that if it were to break he would be out of luck unless he had another brainwave about what to do next. Fortunately it wasn’t something he needed to worry about for long because he felt the family catch of the padlock and then with a snik it popped open.

Easy peasy lemon squeezy.

Tim pulled himself out of the window, stomach scraping against the window ledge but otherwise fine. He was in an empty alleyway and he could see the faint echo of red and blue flashing from cars just out of sight. He hurried to the edge of the street, peeking out to see what the situation was. The building was mostly surrounded by police cars and tape, with a standard GCPD hostage procedure set up. Tim reached up and ruffled up his hair, slapped his cheeks a couple times, and stepped into the main street and made his way up to the closest police barricade, hopefully looking a little more like someone who had been kidnapped than just out for a leisurely stroll.

“Excuse me? Officer?”

The cop didn’t even look at him, just stood with his back to the barrier, watching the situation at the front of the building where it looked where most of the action was happening. “I’m sorry kid, but this is a hostage situation and you need to stay behind the line.”

“Yeah, but the thing is that I’m the hostage.” The officer whipped his head around and Tim gave him a little wave. “Hi. I’m Tim Drake.”

The officer stared at him for a few seconds, trying to sort out how that made any sort of sense and Tim sympathized with that. “Oh, uh. Hold on.” He fumbled with his radio on his shoulder, not taking his eyes on Tim, before hitting the button. “Commissioner, this is O’Royal. I have a kid here at the south perimeter who says he’s Tim Drake.” Tim could hear Gordon’s voice respond, and at the same time commotion broke out in the middle of the police set up, and then people started to move towards them.

“Tim?” Bruce’s voice was high and tight, playing the perfect part of the concerned guardian and he ran over with Commissioner Gordon right on his heels as well as a few more officers.

“Bruce!” Tim waved, and squeaked as Bruce picked him up in a big strong hug, the perfect performance of a scared parent. “I got kidnapped!” It was such a goofy thing to say, but in the moment it was the first thing that popped into his mind as he was crushed against Bruce’s broad chest.

Bruce put him down and made a big show of running his hands through Tim’s hair, down his arms and legs as if trying to reassure himself that all of his limbs were there. "I know. They called me for ransom. I’m so glad you are safe." His examination reached Tim’s wrists and he fussed over the marks that were criss crossing across the skin, light bruising already popping up, brushing them with a soft thumb.

"That explains all this." Tim chuckled and waved his arms around at the police set up in front of the building.

Gordon stepped up to do his job now that Bruce had done enough of pretending to worry in full grizzly mode, flipping out his notebook. "Why'd they let you out?"

"They didn't. They think I'm still in there." Gordon and Bruce both gave him a sharp look, probably for entirely different reasons. "I got out a window down there after I picked the lock." He jerked his thumb in the direction of the alley, and two of the officers ran off in that direction, hopefully to check out the scene to see if they could enter the building the same way that Tim had come out. He was doubtful; they were an awful lot bigger than he was.

"With what?" asked Gordon, raising an eyebrow in a questioning way.

"Part of my retainer." Right, Tim Drake was a normal kid who busted his own dentistry work and had to fess up to the person who was going to have to foot the bill to get it fixed. "Oh, Bruce. I think I have to go back to the orthodontist. I think that wire was important for something." Bruce said nothing, just put his arm around Tim’s shoulders and squeezed.

“How did you know how to pick a lock?”

“I saw it on YouTube and thought I’d try.”

That made Gordon stop writing in his book and stare at Tim. “You learned how to pick a lock on YouTube”

“Yeah. You can find anything on there. Did you know that there is a large online community of people who like to sculpt cheese? I knew about ice and stuff, but I had never really thought about how shapeable cheese is before a-”

“Timothy,” said Bruce quietly, the way he did when Tim went down rabbit holes in the cave and needed to get back on track and Tim blushed.

“Oh, sorry. Anyway, it wasn’t like I was going to get anymore kidnapped, so I thought I’d give it a go.”

Gordon went back to his notes, but huffed in what Tim hoped was approval. “You could have been hurt.”

“Really? Huh.” Tim grinned, and leaned against Bruce in a way that made him look that he was tired, exhausted now that the adrenaline had worn off and just leaning against his guardian. “I guess I never really thought about it like that.”

Gordon dismissed him to go and get checkout out by the paramedics, told him that he would be in contact later for a more comprehensive questioning if needed, but since it was still a live crime scene because the kidnappers hadn’t notice that they were without a hostage, that was all for now. The paramedics gave him a quick lookover, bandaging the cuts around his ankles before letting him go home with Bruce who paraded him back to the car with a firm grip on his shoulder.

Bruce hugged him again before they got into the car and started on their way back to the manor is silence. The buildings were getting further and farther between as they drove out of the city limits before Tim piped up. “Did I beat Jason’s time?” It was always a risk, asking about Jason and what he had done as Robin, but he was dying to know. “I know I didn’t beat Dick’s.”

“You,” Bruce swallowed deeply and tightened his fingers on the wheel, leather cracking under the pressure. “You thought that was a test?”

“Well, yeah.” Tim grinned as he inspected his wrists and ran his tongue along the back of his teeth, feeling the sharp edges of where the wire had been before. “So? How’d I do?”

Bruce pulled over to the side of the road and rested his head on the steering wheel, breathing in and out carefully before turning and pulling Tim into a tight hug, head heavy on his shoulder and body quivering with small shakes.

“Bruce?”

“That was not a test.” Bruce mumbled into his shoulder. “Not at all.” Tim thought back to the scene, the way that Bruce had run to him, checked out his injuries, had never not touched him once he had been back in his sight. The tremors that he could feel through Bruce now. That was all real?

“I was actually kidnapped?” Tim wondered, because that didn’t make a lot of sense. He was just Tim Drake. Even if it was a poorly executed kidnapping, it still seemed like a lot of needless work just for Tim. “Why would someone kidnap me? I’m not anyone important.”

“Not anyone important?” Bruce shook his head and pulled back, intently looking at Tim in the eyes, and Tim was now able to see the worry on the man’s face, not the outward public face that he showed to the world, but his true self that Tim only got to see on rare occasion and most never saw, and that man was dripping with residual fear and relief. “Tim, you are mine. You are one of the most important things in my world, and someone tried to use you to hurt me.” He shook his head and cupped Tim’s less injured wrist between his hands, hands that were possible of “And they did. Please know that I would do anything to get any of you back. I would travel across galaxies and punch a god in the face and I will negotiate with kidnappers who trap you in basements. No one gets to hurt you. No one.”

“Oh.”

Bruce stared at Tim for another moment, before turning the car back on and pulling back onto the road that headed into Bristol, silence filling the car again as they drove the rest of the way home, but Bruce’s right hand was still wrapped around Tim’s wrist and Tim wondered how long it would stay there until he had to let go.

It didn’t let go.

#whumptober2019 #no.27 #tim drake #bruce wayne #jim gordon #tim drake is robin

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luci-in-trenchcoats · 6 years ago

Text

Secret Santa

Summary: The reader is participating in the SPN cast & crew Secret Santa exchange for the first time when she ends up drawing Jensen’s name...

Pairing: Jensen x reader

Word Count: 4,400ish

Warnings: none

A/N: Written for a friend :) Enjoy!...

You yawned as you rested your head in your hand, watching the camera reset back into position, Jensen smiling from the other side of the table in the bunker set.

“What are you looking at goof?” you asked, smiling back at him.

“Uh, it’s the first day back from Thanksgiving break,” he said, still wearing that big charming smile.

“Yes, because we’re all overjoyed to be working a 12 hour day after having the past week off,” you teased.

“Oh, I forgot. You’re a rookie,” he teased right back.

“Rookie mistake?” asked your A camera operator.

“Rookie mistake,” said Jensen with a tsk.

“Rookie mistake, Y/L/N? I thought we knew you better than that by now,” said your B camera operator before the small crew in the bunker library was all sharing giggles.

“I hate working with all of you,” you said, biting your bottom lip when they started to laugh. “Come on, one more take and we all get to go home.”

“Rookie mistake,” said the boom guy, your jaw dropping.

“Oh, come on, Y/N. Even I know-” said Alex before Jensen held up a hand.

“Ah, ah. Don’t be spoiling nothing for the rookie, pup,” said Jensen with a smirk.

“If it makes you feel any better, I was rookie last year,” said Alex. “Also, I am so calling you old man from now on.”

“Old man can kick your ass, pup,” said Jensen. Alex opened his mouth but realized Jensen probably very well could. “Besides, let’s not ruin the surprise, hm?”

“You are such a tease. Every last one of you,” you said, pointing at them all.

“Duh. You knew what you signed up for in the spring,” said Jensen, getting a waving finger. “Yeah, yeah. Come on rookie and pup, let’s finish this up so we can get to the good stuff.”

You heard a knock at your trailer door as you finished packing up your bag to go home, slinging it over your shoulders before you pulled the door open.

“Hi,” said Jensen, standing there with a tired but friendly smile. “Heading home?”

“After the staff meeting. I don’t feel like we’ve ever gotten one at the end of a day. Is this normal?” you asked, grabbing your phone and car keys, locking up your trailer after yourself.

“It’s nothing to worry about. It’s a fun thing we do for the holidays around here is all,” he said. “I...the rookie thing wasn’t bothering you today, was it? I know we can take that stuff a bit far sometimes.”

“No,” you said, bumping his shoulder, giving him a smile. “I’m just a bit tired.”

“Tired? We just had a week off,” he said, adjusting his own backpack as you walked.

“My break wasn’t awesome. You know how family can be,” you said.

“Not particularly. My family’s always gotten along, even if we all are a bit weird and dorky,” he said. “I realize why you sounded so off in our phone calls now though.”

“I traveled all the way to Maine to deal with...sorry. We’re going to do something fun you said?” you asked.

“Yeah,” he said, throwing an arm over your shoulders. “Rookie.”

“Okay, this is technically my second season on the show so-”

“Technically it’s your first full season on the show. Guest starring end of last season don’t count. Rookie,” he teased.

“You’ll pay for that, Ackles,” you said, booping him on the nose.

“Oh will I, Y/L/N?” he said, moving his arm around to pull you in front of him, starting to give you a noogie.

“Jensen. Jensen Ross Ackles! You are at your place of work, young man!” you said, Jared snorting as you watched him walk past.

“This is the most professional he’s ever acted,” said Jared, squishing your cheeks together before he headed towards set, Jensen chuckling as he helped get most of your hair out of your face.

“Boys,” you said, grabbing Jensen’s arm when he almost tripped over a set of cables running on the ground. “Careful, Jay. It’s your turn to buy dinner.”

“Ah, I see why you keep me around,” he said, righting himself, walking a little more slowly across the lot over to the bunker set. You yawned and rocked back on your heels, ready for some dinner in Jensen’s apartment and followed by a hot soaking bath in your own before bed.

A good chunk of the cast and crew was there, everyone lining up and jotting something down on slips of paper before they tossed them in a big basket.

“Write your name down,” said Jensen when you got up there. You did as told, placing it in the basket and moving aside, the line finishing up quickly after you. Someone turned a big handle on the basket and the paper jumbled together, mixing it all up.

“Alright, ladies and gentlemen. The 2018 Supernatural Secret Santa has the same rules as last year. $25 dollar limit. Only one secret santa per person. Gift exchange will take place on the last day of filming this year, right before the winter break. Any questions, please contact Nina, one of our lovely costume designers or myself as we are heading up the exchange this year. Does anyone have any questions?” asked Chad. “No? Alright. Step up and pick a name. If you draw your own name, stick it back in and draw again. Alright let’s go. I got a Buffalo Bills game to get home to.”

“He’s a fan of the Bills?” you whispered to Jensen. “Seriously?”

“Take pity on him. He’s Canadian,” whispered Jensen. It took a minute to get the line going again but once it was, people were out of there, saying goodnight to each other once they got their names.

Jensen shoved his hand inside and quickly glanced at the paper he’d grabbed before shoving it in his pocket. He stepped out of the way, waiting for you. You were glad you were tired because you were pretty sure your face would have shown who you’d gotten.

Jensen Ackles

You folded the paper up and put it in your jeans, Jensen smiling when you caught up with him.

“Get someone good?” he asked. You whipped your head up, giving him a smile.

“Mhm,” you said. “You?”

“Yup,” he said, stealing your car keys out of your hand. “I drive, you run in and pick it up on the way home?”

“Did you order yet?” you asked.

“Just did,” he said, twirling your keys around. You passed Cliff and Jared on the way to your car, Jensen saying he was riding home with you. Occasionally he did get a ride in with you and sometimes he even convinced you to come in with him if you were on the same shooting schedule for the day. He didn’t often drive for you though and you wondered what was on his mind.

“Hey, Jen,” you said once your seatbelt was on. “Everything alright?”

“Yeah,” he said with a smile. You nodded, Jensen sighing.

“Just going home for the holidays...it can be a bit lonely, you know?” he said. “My siblings all have spouses and families and I’m the one crashing in my childhood bedroom by myself having my parents convince me I’m not a lost cause.”

“You know what you need right now?” you said, Jensen turning in his seat. You reached your hand out and traced a finger under his jaw, Jensen staring to laugh as you tickled him.

“Y/N, Y/N, I need to drive!” he laughed, squirming away until you finally relented. “I’m not even ticklish there.”

“Sure, you’re not,” you teased, scratching his jaw as Jensen chuckled. “I wanted to see a smile on that face of yours.”

“You always make me feel better when I’m down,” he said, smiling at you before suddenly turning away. “We should head out.”

After dinner at Jensen’s you headed down a few floors and to the other side of the building to your place, settling into your soaking tub, playing with some bubbles while you tried to think of what to possibly get him. A gift card was easy since you knew where he shopped and ate out. But it was impersonal and Jensen was your best friend. You were planning on getting him an actual Christmas present, had gotten it already, a pair of tickets to some pro golf thing where he could basically swing around clubs with the pros for a few hours and get some pointers. It sounded expensive but once you factored in the family discount your mom had swung for you with her friend, it was practically no cost at all.

You wanted to do something like that again, something he’d really love. All you kept thinking of though was stupid crap like an extra phone charger or heaven forbid, socks. You jolted up in the tub when your phone rang, quickly climbing out and grabbing it without looking.

“Hello?” you asked.

“Hey, Y/N,” said Jensen. “Just me.”

“Oh, hey. What’s up?” you asked, throwing on your robe and undoing the tub. You walked into your bedroom, frowning at the clock. “I thought you were heading to bed early, catch up on some sleep.”

“Um...I did. I...shit, forget about it,” he said. “Night.”

He hung up and you pouted, calling him back but getting no answer.

“Ackles…” you grunted. You threw on your pajamas and grabbed your key, heading up to his apartment, knocking more than a few times before it opened up.

“What-”

“You call me like that and then don’t answer? Of course I’m coming to check on you,” you said, walking past him into the dark apartment. He sighed and closed the door, rubbing his eyes. His hair was tousled, shirt a little off. “You were asleep before.”

“Yeah. I was just about back asleep too when you showed up,” he said.

“Well why’d you call me?” you asked.

“I had a nightmare, alright?” he said, rubbing one of his arm, pulling at the sleeve of his t shirt. “I just...I’m fine. I just wanted to hear your voice for a second. I shouldn’t have bothered you.”

“Do you want me to stay over tonight?” you asked.

“What? No, seriously, Y/N. I’m fine. I shouldn’t-”

“Jensen,” you said. “There was totally that time I freaked out over a noise and you spent the night in my apartment because I was scared.”

“That was different,” he said.

“What? Boys aren’t allowed to be scared?” you said.

“No, we are. I just…” he said, scratching his head. “You aren’t leaving, are you.”

“You have a guest room. I’ll crash here, okay? If you have another nightmare, I’ll come wake you up,” you said. He opened his mouth but you put your hands on your hips, Jensen dropping his head. You stepped over and gave him a hug, Jensen tensing at the contact for a moment before he relaxed and returned it.

“You were in an accident. I couldn’t save you,” he said quietly. You looked up at him, Jensen staring across the room, avoiding your gaze. “The nightmare.”

“I’m right here, Jay,” you said, giving him a smile, wrapping your arms even tighter before you leaned back, picking him up off the ground, and let out a whoof. “You are heavier than I thought you’d be.”

“Well put me down, goofball,” he chuckled. You shook your head and slowly waddled down the hall to his bed, Jensen laughing his ass off by the time you got there.

“We are so doing a piggyback ride next time,” you said, bonking his nose when he was set down, throwing his covers back on him, a smile on his face. “Night, Jens.”

“Night, Y/N.”

You woke up to Jensen shaking you awake, eyes flashing open.

“Morning,” he said sleepily. “You got a eight am call time. Better get downstairs if you want to be on time.”

“Yeah, thanks,” you said, stretching for a second before you rolled out of bed and stepped into your slippers. “Sleep okay?”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, a bit of color in cheeks that was barely noticeable. “Thanks for last night. I mean, making sure I was okay.”

“S’never a problem, Jensen,” you said, yawning as you walked down the hall. “I’ll see you at work later.”

“Later, Y/L/N.”

You were taking a break between scenes on Tuesday, heading back to your trailer when you saw an envelope taped to the outside of it.

Your Secret Santa

“Oh, this’ll be good,” you said, ripping it off and heading into your trailer. You tore it open, pulling open a small typed out piece of paper.

Y/N,

I’m your Secret Santa. I know you’re new to set this year but I feel like you’ve been having a good time working with us all. We certainly enjoy working with you. You’re not only very talented, but kind and humble as well, something you may take for granted but I don’t, especially in this industry. Your personality has been refreshing around here and quite honestly, I look forward to the times I get to work with the cute new girl. Here’s to figuring out the perfect gift for you.

From,

Your SS

“Oh my…” you said, a knock at your door making you shriek. You heard Jensen chuckle as you called him in, Jensen laughing when you pursed your lips at him. “You startled me.”

“Scaredy cat,” he said, hopping up on your kitchen counter. “What’s that?”

“This? This is a letter from my secret santa,” you said, handing it to him.

“Letters aren’t a part of the exchange,” said Jensen reading it over. “Oh. Sounds like your secret santa has a bit of a crush on you.”

“Well that’s obvious,” you said, taking the letter back.

“Are you freaked out or…” said Jensen.

“No, no. I’m surprised is all,” you said. “What are the odds that someone who has a crush on me would be my secret santa?”

“About one in two fifty?” teased Jensen. You rolled your eyes and took a seat. “You think someone’s messing with you?”

“Jared does like to prank me,” you said.

“Yes but Jared doesn’t pull pranks like that. You got an admirer out there somewhere,” said Jensen with a smile. “It’s cute.”

“Yeah. I really need to figure out my own secret santa though before I can investigating who has a crush,” you said.

“Need any help?” asked Jensen. You laughed, shaking your head.

“No, no. I can handle it. Want to run some lines?” you asked.

“Sure thing, rookie.”

Friday afternoon you got back to your chair at the end of your filming day, cocking your head at the green envelope sat in it.

“Oh, did the secret santa strike again?” teased Jared, laughing as you whacked his arm.

“Another letter? Lucky you,” joined in Jensen, collecting his things before he ran back to his trailer to change for another scene. You shoved your phone in your pocket and headed back for your own, tearing open the letter while you walked.

Y/N,

I hope my first letter didn’t startle you. I know you’re the kind of girl that’ll put on a tough face so I really do hope I didn’t cross a line. You’ll find out who I am soon. I probably shouldn’t have mentioned that whole you’re cute thing since now you’re going to know exactly who has a crush on you and I won’t be able to deny it.

Forgetting my current embarrassment and most likely future rejection for the time being, I think I’ve found the perfect gift for you.

Have a great weekend, Y/N. You absolutely killed it this week.

From,

Your SS

“Wow,” said Jared. You jumped when you felt him right behind you, reading over your shoulder. “Poor dude thinks he’s already screwed it up just by calling you cute.”

“Jare, privacy?” you asked, folding up the sheet and shoving it back in the envelope.

“Oh, alright,” said Jared with a smirk. “I’ll just go on my merry old way then…”

“You know who it is, don’t you,” you said.

“Uh, duh,” said Jared.

“Want to help a girl out then?” you asked.

“Nope. I was given full permission to reveal I know who he is though because quote, ‘he doesn’t want to seem like a weirdo creeper’ to you,” said Jared. “Trust me, he’s the exact opposite.”

“Well you can tell him it’s fine. It’s cute, like someone leaving notes in my locker in school,” you said.

“I’ll be sure to pass it along,” said Jared, ruffling your head. “I’m heading home for the weekend. See you on Monday?”

“Have a safe flight,” you said, giving him a quick hug. Back in your trailer you worked on answering a few emails before you wound up hopelessly searching for Jensen’s perfect present.

Your secret santa had a crush on you and he’d easily found one for you. How come you couldn’t do the same for Jensen? Maybe you weren’t ready to admit out loud to him that you had a crush but deep down you knew that’s what it was. It was simple though, to write it off as having a good time with your best friend and nothing more. At least that’s what you’d been telling yourself despite all of the obvious signs.

Plus with this new crush out there, maybe this was exactly what you needed. It was probably one of the new guys this year, maybe Nate in production. He’d always been a little flirty in the breakfast line in the morning, sometimes showing you around the future set builds. He knew Jared pretty well and he was sweet.

“Rookie!” you heard, a loud banging on your door. You shut your computer and pushed away the thought, opening the door to find Jensen standing there with a cocked head. “What are you still doing here?”

“I was doing some work,” you said.

“It’s like after eight, Y/N,” he said. You closed your eyes, leaning your head back as the time had gotten away from you. “You work too hard, I swear.”

“I got distracted with thinking of the secret santa stuff,” you said, rushing back inside and flipping off the lights, grabbing your bag and locking up.

“Want me to walk you to your car?” he asked.

“Nah, I’m fine. You had a long day,” you said, nodding over to where his car was waiting with Cliff. “Night.”

“Night,” he said quietly. You shoved your hands in your pockets as you started to walk, a quick rush of footsteps behind you before Jensen was at your side again. “Don’t tell me you’re fine. I know you don’t like walking alone to your car at night so I’m walking you, alright?”

“Alright. I didn’t know Cliff was teaching you to be a bodyguard, Ackles,” you said.

“Hey. I got scared the other night and you were there for me. I got your back too,” he said. “Besides, you never know what hooligan’s you’ll run into on the trek to the parking lot.”

“Oh yes. Good thing I got Dean Winchester to kick some ass for me if I need it,” you said, bumping his arm. “You heading home this weekend?”

“Yeah. I got a flight at midnight,” he said with a yawn. “Be back in Texas just before six. You doing anything fun this weekend?”

“Nope,” you said with a laugh. “Unless you count watching TV and cleaning my apartment fun.”

“Maybe you can get your secret santa shopping out of the way,” said Jensen. “I’m already done with mine.”

“Seriously? How?” you asked.

“I didn’t overthink it like a certain someone,” he said. “Just get them a gift card and be done with it.”

“Maybe. I’m sure I’ll figure something out soon.”

Two Weeks Later

It was Thursday morning, the last day on set before the break started. You’d come up with absolutely crap all for Jensen, hoping to run out at lunch and find something before you gave him his backup present, a gift card for his favorite restaurant.

Your secret santa had left you a few more sweet notes over the past weeks and you decided that, festering feelings for Jensen aside, you were going to give your secret santa at least one date to see how things went.

“Hey, Y/N,” said Jensen, walking into your trailer as you were heading out to the store at lunch. It was strange of him not to knock and the look on his face worried you more than getting him the wrong present. “Do you got a second? I need to talk to you.”

“Sure,” you said, waving him to take a seat on your couch. “You okay, Jay?”

“I...here,” he said, pulling a card out of his pocket and shoving it in your hands. It was a christmas card, one that put a smile on your face.

“Thanks, Jensen,” you said, opening it, a plane ticket falling out. You caught it in your lap, glancing at him but he was staring at his own.

Y/N,

If you haven’t figured it out by now, it’s me. Jensen. I’m your secret santa. I didn’t plan for this to happen and I was a bit shocked when I pulled out your name but I thought, hey it’s a great opportunity. I knew immediately what I wanted to give you. A plane ticket to come visit me in Austin over break. I hated when we didn’t see each other that much over summer hiatus and I thought maybe you’d want to spend a week with me.

But you’d figure out who your secret santa was if I did that. But it was what I really wanted to give you and you don’t have to come down if you don’t want. So I figured once you would eventually find out who I was, why not man up and tell you about my obnoxious school boy crush on my best friend? I know you’re fully aware that I hardly ever make the first move, but it seemed easier to say I think you’re amazing in a letter somehow. The funny thing is, all those things I’ve said in these letters, I’ve told you in person before. But I don’t think you believed me. I really do believe you’re one of the most incredible people I’ve ever known. Not too many people are like you, have a goodness in them and a genuine care for other people. You take care of me, Y/N. I can be a weird goofball in front of you and it feels so comfortable. I’ve never felt that with another person outside my family, definitely not in another person that I have certain feelings for.

I hope you do decide to come visit and you’ll give me a chance.

You lifted your head when you finished reading, tucking the ticket back inside the card. You stood up and grabbed the envelope meant for Jensen on your table, spinning back around to crash straight into his chest, Jensen trying to make a fast break for it.

“Hey,” you said, holding up your hands, giving him the card. “I was your secret santa too.”

“Oh,” he said, opening the card. ��It’s for the steakhouse. Thanks.”

“Yeah,” you said, blocking his path out of the trailer. “I was thinking maybe tonight...we could go use that gift card on a date where you can tell me all about the stuff we’re going to do in Austin.”

“Really?” he said, everything so much lighter about him as you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around him.

“Yeah. See...I’ve had this crush on my bestie for a while too. But then this secret santa guy was sending me these sweet letters and I swore I was going to go on a date with him because he was too good to be true. But it makes perfect sense now considering it was you,” you said.

“You’re really going to come visit me?” he asked. You nodded, leaning up and pecking a kiss on his cheek.

“Sure am,” you said. Jensen smiled so hard his cheeks had to be hurting. He glanced down at your lips once before pressing his to them, landing a gentle kiss.

“Y/N you want-” said Jared, bursting in through the door, pausing on the step as you and Jensen turned to look at him. “Well. Looks like you two kids are having some fun so I’ll just grab lunch on my own.”

“You knew the whole time,” you said.

“Duh,” said Jared. “I can’t believe she never figured it out.”

“Figured it out when it mattered,” said Jensen. Jared hummed and gave you both a smile, leaving you be. “So...what time should I pick you up for our date?”

“Eight sound good to you, secret santa?” you teased.

“Sounds perfect, Y/N.”

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