#yeah but when writers tell me i should get tissues ready i too am like...this is gonna be a shit show | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

poor-baby-bangtan · 3 years

Note

i was wondering if you could do something snz-centric with jungkook. like a cold or flu. hes just so adorable and im too much of a sucker of bts taking care of him in fics. (also im so happy youre back and well, you're one of my favourite bangtan sickfic writers here on tumblr ^^)

I hope you enjoy!

Sickie: jeongguk

Caretakers: Namjoon and Seokjin

Words: 6,853

Themes: snz, fever, hurt/comfort

"Ht'tschu!"

By the fifth time that Jeongguk had to tear himself away from the recording equipment to sneeze almost violently into his hands, Namjoon was ready to call it quits for the day. The pair had been finishing up some backing vocals for a nearly-completed song - it was only a bit of harmonization, nothing extreme or extravagant. Jeongguk had always been the best with harmonizing, especially in a higher pitch, so Namjoon figured that he would layer the maknae's hidden track over it first just to get a feel for the way it sounded.

But Jeongguk was barely able to get through any of his lines or simple melodies without having to turn around to sneeze or clear his throat. And now that Namjoon thought about it, his voice did sound a bit rough around the edges and maybe even a little congested if he listened closely enough to his dongsaeng's voice blasting through his headphones. And, above all, he couldn't get through a track that he would have aced any other day. It was nearing 1 AM and the maknae looked tired, stressed, and sick behind the mic.

"JK," he called through the slightly-opened door beyond the large built-in window between them (purely to keep unwanted sounds out of the recording). "You okay?"

Jeongguk sniffed and rubbed at his nose with a knuckle, ears reddening slightly at the sudden attention. Namjoon found it incredibly endearing that, despite living together for just shy of seven years, he still managed to get embarrassed over minor stuff like that.

"Yeah, I'm alright, hyung. I'm sorry, I know you wanted this finished quickly," he managed, staring at the open mic in front of him with obvious frustration and guilt, the tip of his bunny nose pink with mild irritation.

Namjoon stood and took off his bulky headphones, joining him in the adjacent room and placing a firm hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry about it, Gguk, it's not your fault." The maknae sniffled again but didn't say anything, looking so pitifully sad as his eyes wandered around the floor. "Are you wearing a new cologne or anything? New shampoo?" Namjoon knew how sensitive their youngest was to smells - his perfume of choice was actually faint and made for women and he wore it for the sole purpose of it not irritating his sinuses. Even a change in shampoo, conditioner, or hair spray had a tendency to trigger Jeongguk's rhinitis flare-ups.

Jeongguk shook his head. "No, everything's been the same, Joon-hyung. I don't know why it's like this."

The rapper chewed at his lip worriedly, running a hand through the younger man's soft hair. "You think you're getting sick, babe?" Namjoon chose to break out the pet names now - it helped break Jeongguk out of that shy, nervous, I'm-grown-up-so-I-can-handle-everything-myself shell he always tried to adopt.

"Hih-H'tshhuh! T'cHh!"

Jeongguk didn't have time to reply before he was pitching forward to sneeze twice into his elbow, leaning back with a little groan. Namjoon chuckled quietly and rubbed the maknae's back as he sniffled and scrubbed at his nose with his sleeve. "I think that might be a yes."

The maknae sighed, rubbing at his brow like he had a headache. "I don't want to be."

Namjoon just tutted and put his palm to the younger man's forehead, frowning when he felt the slightest bit of heat underneath his hand. He wasn't flushed and didn't feel too warm, but he always ran hot when he was coming down with something. "I don't think you have a choice in this one, Gguk-ah."

"But hyung," Jeongguk whined, looking up at him with his big doe eyes, "I can't get sick right now. We have so much stuff to do and I'm already making you stay late-"

"Hey, no," he shushed. "You're not holding back anything. We have work, sure, but it's not anything that we can't push back a few days for you. This is the lightest our schedule has been for a while, so don't stress about it, okay?" Namjoon smiled faintly, running his fingers once more through Jeongguk's fringe. "And you're not keeping me here doing anything. We could have been doing this next week or even not at all; this is optional just to test the sound, you know that."

Jeongguk nodded, sniffling again for good measure. "Yeah, okay," he mumbled, still disappointed and very much not convinced.

"Why don't we go ahead and head home? It's late," Namjoon yawned, stretching, all an act just to get the maknae to not protest leaving just like the rapper knew he would. He had always been the hardest one to take care of - most of the others eventually gave in and let themselves be coddled. But, nope, not Jeongguk. He would put up a fight until he was passed out or in the hospital, something that his hyungs tried relentlessly to keep from happening. No matter how much they drilled into his head that you need to talk to us, Gguk or you can tell us anything, Gguk, it seemed like the kid never listened. Despite the fact that he had recently turned twenty-one, he had absolutely zero skills in the self-care department.

Jeongguk nodded and Namjoon marked that as a big success on his part. "Okay." He patted his pockets a few times before sighing. "Let me find my keys first."

That's right. He drove us here this morning.

"No that's okay, Gguk. I'd rather call a cab." Namjoon wasn't sure if he really wanted his maknae driving while sick, and at midnight nonetheless. He was already a little reckless behind the wheel on the best of days and the last thing they needed was him having a cold (or worse yet, flu) on top of that. The leader silently cursed himself that he hadn't gotten around to getting his license yet (and tried not to be embarrassed that the youngest of his group had to drive him around despite the age gap).

"No, I'm fine, hyung. I can drive," Jeongguk protested, looking just a little too eager to prove himself and that he was indeed okay. "I can.. d-dr- hhitsHh!"

He was interrupted by another sneeze, though, pitching forward, bent at the waist from the strength of it. He slowly straightened upwards, hands still cupped around his face. Namjoon took the hint and passed him a tissue, which Jeongguk hesitantly took as if he were almost too prideful to take it. He usually was, and the rapper was thankful that it was late in the evening. A tired Jeongguk was an obedient Jeongguk.

"I know you can, Ggukkie, but I'd rather just call someone. It's late and we're both tired; I'd feel better if we had a cab or a manager come pick us up. Besides, we're here every day. We can pick up your car another day, yeah?"

Jeongguk wiped his nose with the tissue and threw it away, sighing. "Okay. Is Sejin-nim still here?"

"Let me text him. Go ahead and put your coat on."

The maknae nodded and went to retrieve his hoodie as Namjoon fumbled with his phone.

Joon: Hyung-nim, are you still in the building?

Cool manager hyung: yeah I'm about to leave. need a ride?

He smiled at how Sejin already knew what he needed before he had the chance to say anything about it.

Joon: yeah, me and Ggukie are finishing up in the studio.

Joon: do you mind dropping us off?

Manager hyung: of course, it's on the way anyways. but I thought Jeongguk drove you two here..?

Joon: yeahh but I think he's coming down with something. don't want him on the roads right now ~_~;

Manager hyung: aishhhh why am i not surprised

Manager hyung: that kid always pushes himself too hard

Manager hyung: meet me outside in 10. i'll stop by the pharmacy tomorrow.

Joon: thank you Sejin-hyung :))

By the time Namjoon looked up from his phone, Jeongguk had pulled his hoodie on and was scrubbbing at his nose with one of the sleeves, sniffling weakly. The hoodie was a couple sizes too large and hung low around mid-thigh. He had balled up his hands inside of the sleeves, making rather adorable sweater paws with them. His nose was now red, morphing from the innocent pink tinge that it had held for most of the night, and his eyes looked a little far-off and watery. Namjoon tried his best not to make a sound of endearment and simply pocketed his phone, reaching out and squeezing his dongsaeng's shoulder.

"Sejin-nim is gonna pull up out front for us."

"'Kay," the maknae mumbled, looking exhausted despite himself. Hopefully it wouldn't be hard to get some medicine in him and put him to bed.

Sejin held true to his word; his car was already warm and running by the time the pair made it downstairs. Namjoon crawled into the backseat with Jeongguk instead of taking his usual place up front. Jeongguk didn't seem to mind, or even notice for that matter, as he put on his seatbelt and yawned into his hand. Namjoon caught Sejin's knowing smirk in the rear view mirror, though, and felt his face heat up.

He wasn't one of the most doting members but he still cared, alright?

Sejin started up the car and pulled out of the parking lot. "How's the song looking, boys?"

"It's going great, Sejin-nim," Namjoon smiled. "Jeongguk is really blowing it out of the water." He reached over and ruffled Jeongguk's hair lightly. Jeongguked smiled that cute smile he does, lips barely pulling back to preview his bunny teeth, eyes scrunching gently around the edges, and it was all Namjoon could do to not make a noise like a variation of a dying animal. That kid does something to his heart that should not be legal. The maknae pushed his hand away and he let him, reaching down to intertwine their fingers and rest them on his thigh instead.

Sejin chuckled deep and throaty, smiling in the rearview mirror. "Just as usual, huh?"

"Yep." Namjoon ran his thumb over Jeongguk's knuckles. "Golden maknae here always does his best."

Jeongguk ducked his head and smiled, teasing his lower lip with his teeth, ears going a bit red. He had never been able to take a compliment without getting embarrassed. "Thanks, hyung."

"Aish, don't thank me kid." Namjoon swore his heart was about to burst. His maknae really was just too sweet without knowing it.

Jeongguk was opening his mouth to say something back but stopped short, getting a far-off look in his eyes as his jaw hung slack. His nose twitched and scrunched several times with the effort not to sneeze; his breath hitched several times as his breathing quickened. He was not able to quell the feeling, though, and sneezed openly onto his lap before he could react.

"Hih.. hh-huh-H'itsxhu! Ht'scHh! Es'cHischh!"

He tore his hand from Namjoon's as he caught the second and third that came with it. They sounded increasingly intense and painful, and Namjoon winced in sympathy.

Sejin sucked in air through his teeth sharply as Jeongguk slowly brought his hands away from his face and sniffled in retaliation a few times. "You feeling okay, kid?" He pulled up at a red light and looked him over in the rear view mirror. "That sounded kind of bad."

Namjoon was glad that Sejin chose not to mention the fact that he had already told him Jeongguk wasn't feeling his best. Jeongguk would have been eternally embarrassed and probably would deny his hyung's help for a while. He had a strange trust system and Sejin seemed to know that.

Jeongguk snuffed once more against the increasing stuffiness in his sinuses before replying. "Yes, I'm okay Sejin-nim, thank you."

Namjoon withheld a sigh and put a hand on Jeongguk's thigh. Always so closed off and shy. Of course, he loved his maknae and wouldn't change his personality for anything. But sometimes he wished he would open up a little more and be a little more trusting to those around him. He had opened up to his band mates after a while, of course, but it was still hard for even them to get through to him at times. Jeongguk could be silly and goofy and just himself wherever he was, but when it came to showing any form of weakness it was like he retreated as far back into his shell as he could get. It was a constant inner struggle for him, realizing that he's still human and needs to treat himself as such. Even one (1) voice crack during a performance can drive him to tears. Weakness and mistakes are just not something that he tolerates with himself, as sad as it makes Namjoon. He's never really as concerned with Jeongguk's physical condition as much as he is with his psychological one when his health dips.

Sejin sighed quietly enough for Jeongguk to miss it and pulled up as the light turned green again. "If you're sure. Just let me know if that changes, okay, Jeongguk-ah?"

"Yes, hyung-nim." Namjoon could hear the gratefulness in the maknae's voice, even if he most likely would not accept the help.

"Aish, kid, always so formal," Sejin grumbled playfully. He had long stopped trying to get Jeongguk to drop the honorifics. They were fond and playful now more than anything.

Jeongguk made that happy noise in the back of his throat that he tended to do, sort of like a mix between a laugh and a endearing huff, and replied, "Of course, Sejin-ssi."

"Ack!" Sejin waved one of his hands in the air dismissively. "That's worse!"

Jeongguk chuckled, fully this time, with a grin that split his whole face and made his eyes squint. He seemed tired, but happy still - probably wasn't feeling too bad, then.

The trio fell into a comfortable silence for the rest of the trip. Namjoon could feel that they were all tired - reasonably so, it was past 1am - and if he was being honest he was ready to do nothing more than just crash in bed when he got home. But his maknae still needed to be taken care of, because he certainly wasn't going to take medicine on his own.

The pair said their goodbyes to Sejin after he pulled up outside of their apartment, with the older man giving Namjoon a knowing wink as a way to say good luck with that one. Namjoon just laughed and waved him off. He knew how to handle his maknae.

Jeongguk stumbled inside, already half-asleep from the car ride, and made his way into the bathroom. Namjoon veered towards the kitchen where their medicine cabinet was and dug around for a few minutes looking for some sort of cold medicine or anti-congestant. He came up with a half-empty blister packet of a nighttime cold medicine which was about the best he could have hoped to find. With the winter, colds had been going around the members quite often and it was around that time of the year that they were constantly running low on medicines. That, and it would help Jeongguk sleep more soundly - even though he usually slept a lot (like, a lot) when he was sick, it was never very deeply and it left him still feeling exhausted, even after he was healthy again.

Namjoon popped a few blue gel-capped pills into his hand and filled up a glass of ice water as he heard the shower come on, sighing when he realized he also still needed to shower. But then he had a thought... why wait? He'd rather keep an eye on his dongsaeng anyways.

Setting the pills and glass on the counter, Namjoon made his way other to the bathroom and poked his head in. "Mind if I join you, Ggukkie?" he called.

"Sure, hyung," came Jeongguk's reply, rough around the edges and tired. Even though he had been living with roommates for many years, he still erred to the shy side, especially when it came to being undressed around others. But, if he was tired enough or felt bad enough, he tended to care less about exposure and more about having company and skinship.

At his response, Namjoon stepped into the bathroom and quietly closed the door behind him, quickly stripping down and pulling back the shower curtain to step under the warm stream of water. Jeongguk stepped over to make room for him (thankfully they finally had enough money for an apartment with several large bathrooms with large tubs and showers, so both of them comfortably fit). The water was a tad too hot, probably because the younger was feeling chilled from being out in the cold, even if they were just walking from the car to their door. Or that's what Namjoon hoped - he was praying the kid wasn't cold because a fever was coming on. He did his best to ignore it, though.

Jeongguk was just beginning to shampoo his hair, eyes droopy and tired. He sniffled once, and then twice - the steam was probably helping with his congestion. Namjoon struggled against a fond little smile and reached over to shampoo his dongsaeng's hair himself. Jeongguk didn't even argue and dropped his hands immediately to his sides. His eyes fluttered closed as his hyung worked the product into his hair, swaying with the motion. He sighed a long, drawn-out breath and leaned into Namjoon's touch, mouth just barely hanging open like a puppy's when receiving a good scratch.

"You're not allowed to ever stop that, hyung," he mumbled, words thick with exhaustion and groggy, eyes still closed. Namjoon laughed again and massaged the base of his scalp.

"We'll see about that, kiddo." He worked the suds through Jeongguk's long hair (wow, it had really gotten lengthy, hadn't it?) and took a second to admire the youngest's features. Even when he was feeling under the weather, his face was still radiant and beautiful. His skin was perfectly blemished, a healthy tan (how could anyone ever want to whitewash him?), and the resting-exhaustion-pout glued to his expression made him look younger and more adorable than ever. As Namjoon guided his head underneath the stream of water, he took a second to appreciate how lucky he was to have Jeongguk as his dongsaeng.

Jeongguk preened under the warm water, melting under it as it met his skin. He looked half-asleep. Namjoon fondly tapped his cheek, to which he opened his eyes; the older man smirked. He was just about to say something teasing when Jeongguk's face screwed up and he hitched, pitching forward catching it in his elbow.

"Hh- hh'itschiew!"

He sniffled a few times as he straightened up, keeping his elbow to his face as he coughed a couple times into it. Namjoon felt his chest tighten and eyebrows pinch together.

"Are you sure you're feeling okay Ggukkie?" He ran his hands through the younger's hair once more, scratching at the base of his neck. Jeongguk just nodded and coughed one more time before dropping his arm, pushing even further into his hyung's touch. But he didn't say anything or respond verbally at all. He was probably feeling too tired to even try and debate about his health. Namjoon just sighed and reached for his own shampoo, quickly lathering up his silver-blonde hair. "I have some medicine laid out for you. Let's just finish up so you can take it and we can get you to bed, hmm?"

Jeongguk only nodded sleepily once more, fumbling for the conditioner. Namjoon once again took over washing his dongsaeng's hair as soon as he had finished with his own; Jeongguk was seriously lagging behind as he struggled to stay awake underneath the stream of hot water. After rinsing out the remaining conditioner from the younger's hair, Namjoon passed over the body wash, turning the maknae around so he could wash his back. Soon enough, though, they were both toweling off and clumsily dressing in sleepwear. Jeongguk groaned when Namjoon pulled out the hairdryer.

"Hyung, can we please just skip that? I want to sleep," he whined, lip protruding in a cute little pout in an attempt to win his hyung over.

"Nope, no way. You're already getting sick and the last thing we need is it getting worse because you went to bed with cold, wet hair. Turn around and sit on the counter if you want."

Jeongguk huffed, annoyed, but did as he was told anyways. Namjoon pressed a chaste kiss to his forehead before brushing through the younger's hair and turning on the blow-dryer. Now the maknae was actually falling asleep, head lolling down several times before he woke himself up and jerked himself back upright. Namjoon bit back a smile as he continued to blow dry his hair, overwhelmed by fondness. By the time his hair was dry, Jeongguk was passed out, mouth hanging open and cheek pressed against his shoulder. At the sound of the dryer turning off Jeongguk stirred, blearily opening his eyes and blinking several times to focus them.

"'M done?"

"Yeah, kiddo. Hop down and we'll go take your medicine."

Jeongguk fixed him with a groggy glare. "You didn't dry your hair."

Namjoon chuckled and winked. "I'm too tired, I guess."

The younger slid off the countertop and headbutted his hyung in the chest; evidently he was too tired to pick his head up, so he let it rest on Namjoon's sternum as he weakly hit him with a closed fist. "You're the worst, Namjoon-hyung," he mumbled, no real heat behind the words.

He just chuckled in response and wrapped an arm around his dongsaeng's shoulders, leading him out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. "Oh yes, I'm just terrible for looking after my maknae," Namjoon said as he passed Jeongguk the pills from where they were on the counter, holding up the glass to the younger's lips. Jeongguk mumbled faux-angrily under his breath as he tossed the pills into his mouth and let Namjoon give him a drink of water to wash them down. Namjoon took the glass with him as the guided the younger down the hallway and into their shared room, setting it down onto the nightstand.

Jeongguk belly-flopped onto Namjoon's bed with a big sigh, stretched out parallel to the headrest. He grumbled incoherently into the duvet and stilled completely. Namjoon huffed a laugh and slapped him lightly on the back of the thigh.

"Come on, Gguk-ah, move over so we can both fit. That's right, get under the covers." Jeongguk sighed and grumbled again at his words, lazily re-correcting himself to lay properly on the bed. Namjoon lifted up the covers for him and the maknae crawled obediently between the sheets, settling in on his side with his feet curled up in a half-fetal position. The older man climbed in after him on the opposite side of the bed, turning off the bedside lamp and pulling up the duvet over the both of them. He reached over and adjusted the covers to below Jeongguk's chin, effectively tucking him in. As he got settled in himself, Jeongguk squirmed his way to Namjoon's chest, cold nose feeling over his collar bone. The rapper intertwined a leg with the younger's, wincing at his freezing toes, and slung an arm around his slim waist. For a few seconds, it was just the quiet sound of the AC and the feeling of the maknae's chest rising and falling against his own, warm breaths puffing against his neck. Jeongguk's long locks tickled against his cheek.

"Th'nk you, hyung," Jeongguk slurred against his collarbone, sounding sleepy and content but more congested than he had previously. Namjoon just gave a low rumble and pressed a hand to his maknae's forehead. A little warm, but that was probably just from the combined heat of the shower and hairdryer.

"Of course, you don't have to thank me, Gguk." He pressed a kiss into the younger's hair. "How're you feeling, jaigya?" Namjoon's brow contorted in concern as Jeongguk shivered a little in his arms and sniffled against his t-shirt.

Jeongguk just gripped his shirt a little tighter and nosed further into the crook of his hyung's neck and mumbled, "Shh, hyung, sleepy t'me, shhh..." His breaths became a little deeper as he fell further into the grasp of sleep, the small rushes of air sending goosebumps over Namjoon's olive skin. "No m're talkin'," he murmured, sounding as if he were barely hanging onto the last dregs of consciousness.

Namjoon pressed a kiss to his forehead before relaxing back into his pillow, fingers drawing invisible pictures onto the younger's back. "M'kay, babe." Namjoon figured he had been awake long enough - it was nearing 3am and he was feeling sick, there was no point in keeping him up any later than he needed to be. He could always check up on him in the morning. Plus, Namjoon thought he had done a pretty good job of taking care of his maknae thus far - a little questioning could wait. "Goodnight, aeghi. Saranghae."

Namjoon was only barely able to hear the whispered reply of "Joon-hyung, saranghae," before the youngest promptly fell asleep in his arms.

xxx

As expected, Jeongguk was restless during the night. He never really woke up but tossed and turned all the same, occasionally making sleepy noises and sighs against his hyung's neck. He never slept particularly well when he was unwell, which was something Namjoon knew was going to happen. That being said, the older man didn't get much sleep either. He was hyper-vigilant and woke up every time his maknae so much as stirred. Namjoon was exhausted, seeing as he had several late nights in a row, but somehow he didn't seem to mind this time. As the night went on, though, Jeongguk seemed to still, back pressed up against his hyung's chest. Namjoon woke up a few hours later to light streaming through the window and Seokjin knocking at the door to wake them up up. The rapper stirred and stretched, inhaling sharply. It felt like he had hardly slept, but it was already 8am.

Jeongguk still lay quiet as the little spoon, curled up into Namjoon's stomach. His body was radiating heat and he was breathing laboriously through his mouth. Namjoon swore and peeled back the covers, pressing a hand to the younger's forehead; he found it to be hot to the touch. His tan skin shone with sweat and his face was particularly pale aside from the flush of his cheeks. Along with that, he was shivering a little in his sleep, brows contorted into a painful grimace. Namjoon dropped his hand and sighed; he knew this was going to happen.

The older man tucked his maknae back into the covers before getting up himself, sighing once more. He made sure Jeongguk was still asleep as he left the room. Seokjin was in the kitchen brewing coffee from the Kurig, watching with tired eyes as the bitter liquid slowly filled his cup. Namjoon approached him from behind and wrapped his hands around the older man's slim waist, burying his face in a broad shoulder and pressing down hard with his forehead.

Seokjin chuckled and patted his arm. "What's this, Namjoon-ah?"

"Jeonggukie's sick," he grumbled into the fabric of the singer's sleep shirt, getting a whiff of his fabric softener in the process. Seokjin always smelled so nice. The younger man could feel the other craning his head to look at him so Namjoon picked his head up and rested his chin on his shoulder instead, meeting Seokjin's gaze. "It came on last night," Namjoon sighed. "He was restless all night and when I woke up he was running a fever."

Seokjin maneuvered out of his arms, turning around to face his dongsaeng and tracing the pads of his thumbs over Namjoon's eye-bags with a concerned crease in his brow. "Are you sure you didn't get it, too? You look awful, jaigya. You're pale."

"No, hyung, I feel fine. Maknae-ah just kept me up with all his tossing and turning."

Seokjin got a smug look on his face, smirking.

"What?" Namjoon deadpanned. He was too tired for this.

"Well," Seokjin drawled. "You're usually such a heavy sleeper. Worried about our youngest, are you?"

Namjoon felt his ears go hot with embarrassment. What's the deal with people, first Sejin, now Seokjin was teasing him? Unbelievable. "With all due respect hyung, shut up. Just because I don't show it as much as you do I actually do care about my maknae," Namjoon spat, pushing away against his hyung's chest and trying to walk past him, annoyed. Seokjin's squeaky laughter followed him and he was stopped by the older man catching his wrist.

"I'm just kidding Joonie, don't get so defensive," he giggled, drawing the younger back into a hug.

Namjoon sighed and buried his face again in Seokjin's shoulder. "Maybe don't tease me then," he grumbled, but the heat was gone.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry." Seokjin stroked his back and laughed one more time. "Have you checked his temperature yet?"

"Not yet. He's still sleeping."

Seokjin hummed, planting a kiss in Namjoon's bed head before pulling away.

"I'll go get the thermometer. Will you wake him up for me?"

"Sure, hyung." Namjoon started down the hallway, slowly creaking the door open and slipping into his and Jeongguk's shared bedroom. The maknae was exactly where he had left him, turned away from the door curled up on his side. Even though he was about to wake the younger man up anyways, the rapper tiptoed around the bed and kneeled next to his pillow as quietly as he could. Jeongguk's face was still scrunched up and tense with pain, a flush high on his cheeks. His hair and shirt were saturated with sweat. Namjoon reached up with his hand and smoothed over the distressed wrinkles on his forehead; his face relaxed after a few seconds, melting into a neutral expression. His face was hot to the touch and Namjoon's fingers came away damp.

"Jeonggukie," Namjoon murmured, reaching over to grasp his maknae's shoulder gently. "Aghi. It's time to wake up, jaigya." The younger stirred, eyebrows immediately scrunching up again as he fought against waking consciousness and the pain he obviously felt. Namjoon shushed him gently, cupping the side of his face with a large hand and rubbing his thumb over his temple. "I know, babe, wake up for just a few minutes."

Jeongguk blearily opened his eyes and immediately winced, making a pitiful noise of pain from the back of his throat and curling up into a tighter ball. He squeezed his eyes closed and buried his face in his pillow.

"Aigoo, I know, I know it hurts Ggukkie." Namjoon moved from stoking his forehead to running his fingers through his damp hair, something he knew Jeongguk had a soft spot for. "Seokjinnie-hyung is bringing you a thermometer and then we'll get back to sleep, okay?"

Jeongguk whined weakly, voice gravelly from a combination of sleep and sickness, looking up from his pillow to gaze at his hyung pitifully. His eyes were red and glassy and tired, framed by the high spots of fever-induced color on his cheeks. Jeongguk's face screwed up, and for a horrifying second Namjoon was sure he was about to start crying. He pitched forward with a sneeze instead, following it up with a few rattling coughs. Whimpering, he reached up to hold his head in his hands as though the movement had aggravated a headache. The older man frowned and leaned over to press a kiss to his forehead before settling himself on the edge of the bed, running his hand over his dongsaeng's back in soothing strokes.

"How're you feeling, babe?"

Jeongguk just grunted and gently placed his forearm over his eyes to block out the light from the window. "Bad," he mumbled, voice still thick with sleep.

"Tell hyung what's hurting," Namjoon prompted, smoothing out the wrinkles of his maknae's shirt over his side.

Jeongguk didn't move his arm as he answered. "My head n' my body are aching. It's cold."

"I know, aghi. Anything else? Is your throat bothering you?"

The singer just slowly shook his head before once again going still, arching his back against Namjoon's touch. He could feel the younger's fever through his shirt. He was satisfied that the younger's throat wasn't hurting him, though; a hoarse voice was an idol's worst nightmare.

Jeongguk reached back with his free hand and pulled his shirt up to expose his back, reaching for Namjoon's hand to press it into his skin. "Push harder, hyung. Please," he murmured, pushing with more force against Namjoon's hand, digging it into his ribs.

Namjoon took the hint and began to massage his back with the heel of his palm; Jeongguk shivered under his touch, goosebumps breaking out over his skin. He was probably cold and skin most likely sensitive, but wanted skin-on-skin contact anyways. His skin was moist and sticky from perspiration, but Namjoon bore the discomfort and carried on.

"Does that help with the pain Jeonggukkie?"

The maknae nodded underneath his forearm, releasing Namjoon's wrist and draping his arm back around his waist. "It feels good, hyung."

Namjoon adjusted his position on the bed for a better reach, kneading the palms of his hands into Jeongguk's feverish skin, moving from his shoulders down to his calves. Jeongguk mewled under the touch, arching his back and wincing but not pushing his hyung away. He always got awful aches when he was feverish and Namjoon seemed to know just how to get rid of them. The maknae tried to keep as still as possible, pressing his forearm against his eyes hard to try and reduce the pain.

A soft knock resounded on the door before Seokjin poked his head in, frowning softly when his eyes drifted to their youngest member. Jeongguk was shivering and trying his hardest not to let small noises of pain slip through his gritted teeth as Namjoon worked against his tight, painful muscles. The skin of his face was flushed and damp with perspiration - even from across the dim room the mat-hyung could see the rivulets of sweat trailing down his neck. Namjoon turned around, hands still kneading against Jeongguk's thighs, and met Seokjin's eyes with the same concerned look.

Seokjin looked back to the maknae and closed the door behind him, walking around and dumping his handful of medical supplies on the bedside table, keeping only the thermometer.

"Oh, honey," he murmured. "You must be feeling awful. I'm sorry, jaigya." Seokjin passed his fingers through Jeongguk's damp, sleep-tousled hair.

Jeongguk peeped out from under his arm and met Seokjin's gaze. "Good morning, hyung." His voice was strained and congested and the older man winced at the sound of it. He pursed his lips and planted a kiss on the maknae's forehead.

"My Jeonggukie, always so polite. Good morning to you too, baby. Let's get you some medicine and some food so you can get back to sleep okay?"

"Okay," Jeongguk mumbled, struggling to push himself up to sit against the headboard. Namjoon immediately moved to help him up, hoisting him up by the armpits until he was comfortably upright. The younger man winced as soon as he was sitting up, grinding his palm against his eye to try and ease the headache. He obediently opened his lips for the thermometer, holding it underneath his tongue until it beeped. 101.9.

"He wasn't very bad last night at all, hyung, I was surprised when I woke up this morning," Namjoon fretted, chewing his lip.

"You and me both, Joonie. We'll fix him right up though, aghi, don't worry too much," Seokjin said, putting the thermometer down on the bedside table and unscrewing the lid to the fever reducers, shaking a few out onto his palm.

Namjoon was about to respond when Jeongguk's face screwed up again for the second time that morning. His eyes got a far-off look as they glazed over, breath hitching. His already-pink nose twitched and nostrils flared, trembling. He brought his hands up where they paused, hovering just a few inches away from his face.

"Hih..."

Jeongguk squeezed his watering eyes shut, letting out an involuntary whimper as the sneeze refused to leave his body. The singer's mouth hung open just slightly as his breathing hitched again, once, twice, three times, nostrils flared and nose twitching.

"Hih... Hh... Hih.h..! Hihtshu! Hi'tshh!" His body lurched forward as he caught the sneezes in his cupped hands. Seokjin quietly blessed him and rubbed his back. Jeongguk let out a little groan as he leaned back slowly, dropping his hands and scrunching his face up in pain. The sneezing hadn't done much to help his headache.

"Oh, baby, I know," Seokjin cooed, running his thumbs over the distressed lines in the younger's face. Namjoon hopped up from the bed and drew the blinds, engulfing the room in a pleasant darkness. Jeongguk visibly relaxed at the abscence of light, sighing and melting back into the headboard. "Here, Ggukkie, take these and drink half the glass." The older singer pressed the pills into the maknae's hand and held the glass of water he had brought along near his lips. Obediently, Jeongguk popped the pills into his mouth and drank from the cool glass of water as Seokjin put it to his lips. Surprisingly, the younger drained the whole thing - both of his hyungs were pleasantly surprised.

"Good job, babe," Namjoon praised, kissing him on the cheek and patting him gently on the head. Jeongguk made a satisfied noise low in his throat, eyes already closed and lolling down to his shoulder.

"That's my maknae," Seokjin smiled, patting the younger on the shoulder before turning to Namjoon. "I'll finish making his breakfast and leave it in the microwave. I think it's fine if you let him sleep for another few hours. Watch over him, okay?"

Namjoon fixed his eyes on the younger who was blissfully dozing by that point, head lolling down to his chest. "I will hyung."

Seokjin kissed the maknae on the top of his head before leaving the room, going to wake the rest of the members and get them to get ready as quietly as they could (if they could at all, that lively bunch...).

"C'mere, Jeonggukkie," Namjoon muttered, going around to his side of the bed and crawling under the covers, holding his arms out for the younger to crawl into. Jeongguk didn't miss a beat, drowsily slouching down and scooting over until he was wrapped up in the older's arms. He nosed forward until his warm forehead was pressed square against his hyung's cheek. Jeongguk intertwined a leg with the older man's, wrapping an arm around him and pulling him close as he shivered; he must have been freezing cold. Tucking the blanket securely underneath his dongsaeng's chin, Namjoon pulled him as close as he was able. The younger's breathing was already slow and even, already asleep. Namjoon laughed silently and pressed a kiss to his forehead, letting his eyes drift shut as well.

“Saranghae.”

There were definitely worse ways to spend the day, he thought.

#bts snz #snz #snz fic #snzfic #bts sickfic

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turkisherlockian · 4 years

Text

Books and Sins | Chapter Two [Benedict Cumberbatch AU]

Hello everyone! I'm Cer but you might remember me as @rosamundhr a.k.a. Rosamund, it was my nickname but I've changed my mind and I will use my own name Ceren, now. (Cer for short hehehe) Unfortunately I lost access to @rosamundhr so I will keep posting my stories here! I hope you enjoy it and I apologise for making you all wait for so long! Love you all, stay safe. 😸❤️

Summary: Katherine is a fan of Timothy Carlton, the writer who she knows nothing about. No photos, no interviews, no information, not even his age. And one day, a man comes into her life who claims to be her classmate from high school. But through the time, she has a gut feeling something is... Wrong.

Warnings: Mature content, self harm, violence, swearing.

Word count: 1855

Feedbacks are much appreciated and so motivating!

Chapter One

---

Katherine woke up with a weird feeling inside her chest. She was mad at herself for being like this: She could like someone so easily and fall in love with them soon after. It was not her fault though, he was really charming. Too good looking to like her back. However, she tried to convince herself that she just liked him and was attracted to him because he was a writer and well... Handsome as fuck. Not to mention his gentlemanly behaviour. Taking a deep breath, she reached out for her phone to tell her best friend about it. She didn't really have lots of friends and she never complained about it, she liked solitude.

She scolded herself for being that excited about the thought of seeing him again. He was the very first thing that was on her mind in the morning and she wanted to talk to him again. So badly.

K: Morning!

S: Morning to you too 🤣

You're texting me 'morning' since when?

K: Stop being sarcastic. Can't I be nice to my best friend?

S: Of course you can, I'm kidding. I just wondered what made you this cheerful... Or who, I should say.

K: You know who.

S: Oh do I?

K: Come on, Samantha! The man I met yesterday. I can't get him out of my mind, I don't know what happened to me but he's like... Cigarette.

S: You're smoking? Since when???

K: Of course I don't! It was just an example, idiot. Just can't get him out of my mind. What do I do?

S: Text him maybe?

You won't seem desperate, don't worry. I am sure he found you attractive as well and he might even be in love with you.

K: Okay, no need to exaggerate.

What do I say, good morning or hi?

S: It doesn't matter!

K: Okay, I'll text you later.

Are you sure I won't seem desperate?

S: JUST TEXT HIM FOR GOD'S SAKE!

K: OKAY I WILL!

S: Don't forget to tell me about it. I gotta go now, talk to you later. xxx

K: Bye! ❤️

---

There was something different about him. Did she like him because he was attractive or because he was nice to her? She had to admit that he was attractive, but there was something else in his voice, in his looks, in the way he talked. She actually found him beautiful.

Taking a deep breath, she finally decided to text him.

K: Good morning. :)

Was he still asleep? Maybe he was at work. Wait, do writers go to work? Maybe he had another job. Maybe not. Maybe he just did not want to talk to her... Why wasn't he replying?!

She sighed in frustration as she took a big sip from her coffee and burned her tongue.

B: Morning, Katherine.

How are you? :)

He finally replied after 10 minutes. She bit her lip as her heart skipped a beat, and started typing.

K: I'm good! Getting ready to go to school.

K: I mean work.

God, I'm an idiot, she thought.

K: How about you?

B: Just got out of shower, that's why I replied late by the way. Sorry about that. :)

K: I was wondering if you would like to meet again sometime.

She grinned as she bit her lip, that's what she always did when she was nervous or excited.

---

K: I would love that! When will you be free?

B:I'm always available for you.

Whenever you'd like. :)

She started squealing in excitement. What did he just say?!

K:I'm free in the afternoon.

B: Wonderful. How about the café we met?

K: Sounds good. Is 2PM okay for you?

B: Yes. I am looking forward to it, Katherine.

K: So am I. :)

I gotta go now, see you later. x

B: Have a good day. See you. x

She looked at her watch and she was 30 minutes late already. Without telling Samantha about it, she started to get ready in a hurry.

She was never late for work, so no one was upset with her being late.

---

''...And my mum said I'm out of my mind!''

Katherine just could not get him out of her mind, and she hated it. She did listen to her counselee but couldn't pay any attention, and now she was crying. She gave her a tissue, ''I understand you, Jane, and I hope telling me about it made you feel better. I know how difficult it is for you, but I have a suggestion. When I was your age, I found a way to deal with my problems: being your own counselor.'' She smiled warmly.

''My own counselor? How?'' The young girl sniffled.

''I imagined that I was told about everything I am going through, and I had to find them a way out. Think of it as if you're reading your life in third person of view. I did it for years and I still do when I don't want to tell people about my feelings. Plus, I found out that it was scientifically proven in college, so it is safe and it actually works. How does that sound?''

She wiped her tears, ''I can try...''

''So tell me, what would you say to yourself if you were someone else?''

''I think I would say that maybe..." She sniffled, "Maybe her mother wasn't feeling good as well.''

Katherine smiled, ''That's it! You are right. We all have problems that we don't want to tell the others and sometimes we might burn out on people we care about the most without being aware of it. You can ask your mother if she is feeling alright, it doesn't matter whether you are still upset with her or not; maybe you can help her as well just like you just helped yourself. That was very brave of you, in my opinion.'' She smiled wholeheartedly.

The girl who was just crying smiled and said ''Thank you very much, Miss Daelan. It's going to be the first thing I'm gonna do when I'm home.''

''You're welcome. Feel free to talk to me anytime.'' She got up to open the door for her and then left the room as well before checking her phone.

3 new messages from Samantha

S: Hey! Send screenshots!!!

Are you there?

Kath!

K: I'm sorryyyy I was late to work already and then forgot to text you.

Here you go:

*screenshots*

S: I told you that he liked you as well, he is flirting with you!

K: No he's not!

S: He adores you!

K: You are really exaggerating.

''Miss Daelan, do you have a minute?'' Katherine looked up at the principle, "Yes, Mr Brealey."

K: The principle wants to talk to me, I'll ttyl xxx

S: What did he say?

The old man opened his room's door for Katherine, she smiled and walked inside. He gestured her to sit down, "Please, have a seat." he said and closed the door. After sitting down, he cleared his throat and said "Miss Daelan, I... Erm..."

He loosened his tie, couldn't dare to look at Katherine. His cheeks were red and there was a thin layer of sweat on his forehead. The young woman frowned a little, listening to him in curiosity. "I've known you since the day you started working here and... I must say that you are the most intelligent, kind, beautiful woman I have ever seen... I can't take my eyes off you because you're an amazing woman and I... I love you."

Katherine was shocked, didn't know what to say at first. She did not feel honored at all, she was disgusted. "Excuse me? I thought you were married!"

"Yes but I don't love my wife, I'm going to divorce her soon; you must understand Miss Daelan, I love you! Please give me a chance..." And now she felt her blood boil in her veins.

"I am sorry but it's never gonna happen. I suggest you to divorce your wife as soon as possible to keep her away from an asshole like you." Katherine stood up angrily and walked towards the door, "But Miss D--" and she shut the door.

K: FUCKING HELL!

He said he loves me!

He's fucking married, Samantha!

*seen*

Are you there?

*seen*

K: I guess you are busy

I'm going home to get ready, talk to you later xxx

S: Sorry, I had to deal with a costumer

What a prick!!!

How dare he?

I want to kill him.

K: Violence is never the answer but yeah, I pity on his wife to be honest. He even has children.

ANYWAY

WHAT AM I GOING TO WEAR?

S: Whatever you're comfortable with. :)

K: How about a dress?

The one I wore when we last met?

S: You look so hot in it 🔥

Wear that one!

K: It covers all of my body, it's kinda tight and there's NO WAY I can look hot in it. I don't want to look pretentious anyway.

S: Anything you wear looks good on you, love!

K: Gay. 🤭

S: Shut up. Wear it!

K: LOL sorry!

I gotta go nowww

S: Tell me all about it when you're home, IF you go back home ;) Good luck!

K: I WILL and thanks! ❤️

The young woman sighed as she tried to find her keys. She was still mad at the principal and it was frustrating her.

After a short shower, she dried her hair with a towel and let her curls down on her shoulders. She wore the dress and looked in the mirror, It actually looks good, she thought. After applying some makeup and wearing her favourite her perfume, she was ready. She didn't like to wait and hated making the others wait for her as well, so she left her flat at 1:30PM. It took her 15 minutes to get to the café and she realized that she wasn't the only one who was punctual.

"Hi..." She said as she walked towards the man she couldn't get out of her mind. He was wearing a brown jumper with beige trousers and she breathed his masculine, minty cologne in. Her heart was beating faster already.

"Oh, hi, Katherine!" He stood up and for one second she didn't know what to do. Should she shake his hand or kiss his cheek? Or hug him? The young man leaned down and kissed her cheek before hugging her, she was shaking inside.

He felt her body close to his. He felt her delicate, pale skin; and her linden scent made him feel dizzy. Her arms hugged his chest and he felt her plump, beautiful breasts. He watched her dress tighten around her curves as she moved.

She was so beautiful and he could barely keep his hands to himself. He could kiss and take her right there, but didn't. He had to control himself until she submitted to him, which wasn't going to take long because it was in her blood. Submitting, obeying, and being his. He just knew it, and he was going to take what belonged to him. Katherine, belonged to him.

---

Chapter Three

Please let me know what you think! ❤️

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wormstacheangel · 4 years

Text

Almost: Ch7

Hello! This is the 2nd to last chapter. So tomorrow you will get the final chapter. So excited for all of you to read this and thank you for all the love I’ve been getting on it!

Summary: Dean was locked up in a room full of hot-headed Novak siblings while they read Chuck's last testimony out loud. Lucky for Dean, Cas doesn't mind being used as a pillow. Unlucky for Dean, Cas's siblings are assholes.

Read on AO3 link (maybe leave a nice little comment?)

Word Count: 2893 More Under The Cut

The room was way too stuffy.

That was the feeling throughout the whole will reading. After the first half-hour, Dean was sure that Chuck just wanted them there to bore themselves to death. Cas was busy listening and even taking notes - that big nerd. Bobby was sitting on his own chair beside their shared couch. He looked like he was paying attention but Dean could already read the glossy far away look in his eyes. The old man was falling asleep with his eyes open again.

Not a bad idea. Dean tilted his head down to rest on Cas’s shoulder and crossed his arms over his chest as he made himself a little more comfortable. He thought for sure Cas was going to say something about it. About him being an idiot and he should sit straight and listen but nope. Instead, Cas moved his pen to his left hand and reached his right hand to gently pat Dean’s hair.

The involuntary shiver that ran down his body as he leaned into the soft touch was embarrassing but fuck did he really like this. Cas’s finger softly ran through his hair and scratch at his head. It felt like before. Like they were in a college lecture again and Cas would tell him to go to sleep. That he would take notes because he knew Dean had a long day at work and only had maybe 3 or 4 hours of sleep.

Then he felt Cas’s head tilt down to rest upon his and for fucks sake if this wasn’t the most relaxed he has felt all week.

Even in this room filled with boring words being spoken - Chuck never really was a great writer but he sure as hell writes a lot - and a tense Novak family, Dean could feel like he could fall asleep right here.

“Mr. Winchester?” Dean blinked open his eyes as Cas gently patted his face.

He sat up straighter as he looked up at the lawyer who was practically glaring at him. To be fair it felt like everyone was. “Um, yeah?”

He heard Raphael groan in annoyance and Dean tried hard not to glare at Cas’s brother.

“We’re ready to talk about what you are getting from Mr. Chuck Novak. So if you’ll kindly give me your attention.” The lawyer calmly stated, sounded like a creepy old man from a damn Scooby-Doo episode. Actually, he kinda looked like one too.

“Sure.” Dean nodded once. Feeling Cas squeeze his knee and then everything went to hell.

The words sounded almost far away when the lawyer guy said them and it wasn’t until Bobby was tugging at his arm to stand up that Dean got on his feet. His legs were shaky and he turned to look at his Uncle and Cas who told him to go.

All he had to do was walk up to the lawyer. To take the pen to accept the gift. Shit. He didn’t even accept those expensive headphones Charlie gave him last Christmas and he was supposed to accept this?

Fuck. He’s gonna throw up.

“Dean?” He heard Cas call out to him, the concern was clearly there but Dean didn’t turn to look at him.

Didn’t really look at anyone really - too busy looking down at the fucking pen he had to pick up. So maybe that’s why he never saw it coming. Saw Mike get up from his chair and land a punch on his jaw.

Everything after that was kind of a blur.

It wasn’t until the security came and everyone froze that he saw Cas standing over Dean. Cas’s fist was pulled back, ready to land another punch on Raphael, while his other hand was grabbing his brother up by the collar. Mike and Luci were still arguing with each other in a wrestling match about who was Chuck's actual favorite son - pathetic for these grown men to be fighting about.

Gabriel was sitting, rolling his eyes about all of this, while Bobby and Anna waited outside the office. Yelling at them to stop before the cops showed up.

“Now,” The lawyers spoke up after they all sat back down. “Will Mr. Winchester please sign the papers so we can continue?”

Cas shoved Raphel back and he fell back on his ass. He then turned around and held his hand out for Dean to take and help him up.

“Sign them.” Cas' voice was firm as he motioned towards the papers with his chin. Dean was just a little too distracted by his face. It was bloody and his hair was all ruffled. Fuck, bad timing to think Cas looked hot. “Dean.”

“Yeah. Yeah.” Dean cleared his throat and quickly took the pen out of the lawyer’s hand to finally sign on the dotted line. The room went quiet again. “There.”

Half of the Novak fortune was now his and thankfully so was Bobby’s Garage. Yeah, he’s gonna throw up.

The drive to Cas’s hotel was a quiet one.

Cas was in the passenger seat with his head against the window. His eyes were closed with bloody tissue up his nostrils and an ice pack balancing on his cheek. Dean could see Cas’s foot still taping to the music, he probably didn’t even realize that they were parked outside the building now.

Dean took the chance to just look at him. Enjoying the view of Cas sitting passenger side. He looked so relaxed considering what they just went through and if it wasn’t for the foot taping Dean would think he has fallen asleep. His suit jacket was draped haphazardly on the back of the bench. Remembering Cas getting in the car with an angry huff, loosening his tie, and undoing the top few buttons of his shirt after he slammed the car door shut.

The bruised knuckles and blood speckled shirt didn’t stop Cas from doing his old car routine. Getting angry when his mixtape was not found inside the box but let out a little, “Oh.” when he realized it was already in the tape deck. He quickly rewinded the tape before slipping it back in.

“Dean. I need you to turn on the car.” He told him. Voice low and gravely more than usual because of his frustration.

Dean just did what he was told. Turning on the car and backing out of the parking space as Cas pressed play to let Tangerine fill the car.

Now Kashmir was playing its final beats and they both knew it was the last song on the tape. Dean drove slow - he even took the long way and tried to hit as many red lights as he could - but it was time for Cas to get out of the car and leave this calm. Leave this safe space.

“You sure Bobby isn’t mad for leaving him with Gabriel?” Cas didn’t look at him as he asked. His arms just wrapped tighter as he hugged himself. He was stalling and Dean really wished he didn’t have to leave the car at all.

Dean nodded even though Cas wasn’t looking at him. He relaxed against his seat with a heavy sigh and when he nervously licked his lips he could taste the dry blood on them. The split on his bottom lip was apparently much smaller than he imagined but still burned like a motherfucker.

“He likes Gabriel - surprisingly enough - so I’m sure he’s fine.” Dean reaches over to hover his fingertips over his throbbing cheek and he lets out a small chuckle. “Never imagined this is how today was gonna go.” He throws his head back to rest against the bench seat. “Fuck my face hurts.”

He sees movement out of the corner of his eye and then he feels an ice pack gently being pressed against his lip. Cas scooted closer to him on the bench, tucking his feet under himself so he could kneel beside Dean, and look down at him with such wide sad eyes. It was heartbreaking to see those baby blues look so broken. Almost empty.

The anger clearly faded and now Cas was left mourning not only his father but a life he just can’t afford anymore.

Dean covered Cas’s hand with his own and slowly lowered the ice pack just as Cas scrunched his lips together to hold back his cry.

“Cas,” Dean looked up at him and carefully reached to wipe the stray tear that escaped. “It’s okay.”

Cas nodded as he smiled through the tears he was now freely letting fall now. Landing down on Dean’s own cheeks. “I know.”

“Then why are you crying?” Dean didn’t move from where he was looking up at Cas. Letting his thumb make small circles against Cas’s bruised up cheek. “You know I wouldn’t ever leave you to fend for yourself. You’re too stupid for that.”

Cas laughed, it was mixed in with a sob but his eyes looked brighter. That was good. Dean can’t stand looking at those still icy eyes any longer. He wanted him warm cause that is what Cas is. He’s warmth.

“Are you mad at me for accepting?” Dean quietly asked as he took the ice pack from Cas and raised it up with his free hand to press against Cas’s eyebrow bone where a ring must have cut him. Dean’s other hand was still carefully tracing his cheek. If he could only have these touches for this short time then he is sure as fuck going to take advantage of them. Of these soft touches. Quiet whispered voices. This closeness.

Cas has to go back to Mick but right now Cas was his. In this car, Cas was his.

“Course not, Dean.” Cas closes his eyes with a wince. “I’m glad you accepted. Dad never really liked me so I was surprised I was even mentioned in the testament at all. I am fine with what I got. Then again,” Cas opened his eyes and raised his bad brow only to wince harder. “Fuck, that’s gonna be annoying.”

“Control your damn face.” Dean chuckled as Cas stuck his tongue at him. “Then again?”

“Ah, um, then again I didn’t expect you to get the big price.”

“You sound mad.” Dean looked back at him with a wary look and Cas reassured him with a smile.

“Confused is more accurate.” Cas took the melting ice pack from Dean and now it was Dean’s turn to get his bruised face iced. “I just wish we had more closure. Like what the hell does it mean that you were the only one doing what you were supposed to be doing?”

“Fuck if I know, man, but...I’m sorry, Cas.”

“Don’t be, dumbass.” Cas chuckled as he carefully dabbed at his lower lip. “I’m happy for you, Dean. Truly. I’m glad that you were there for him when none of us were. Even if he was difficult at times.” Cas sighed and leaned back on his legs. “I’m glad he was just as fond of you as I was. It’s nice to know I had that in common with my Dad.”

Dean made a face. “Dude, hopefully not the same way.”

Cas threw his head back to laugh. It was loud and his eyes crinkled on the side. His dumb nose scrunched up as he leaned forward to grin back at Dean. Eyes so bright and warm that Dean could feel his breath catching in his chest. It was such a beautiful sight that Dean sat up and stretched his neck until their noses were nuzzled together.

Dean could feel Cas’s gasp out in shock, his breathing coming out shaky and heavy against Dean’s lips. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What is he doing?

“Cas?” Dean watched as Cas slowly closed his eyes. He answered with a soft hum before swallowing hard.

Dean’s hand reached to cradle the back of Cas’s neck as his heart pounded in his chest. It felt so damn heavy and scary because Cas was so close. He could kiss him right now. Fuck, he can have those damn sweet bruised up lips against his own for another second. He can have him like this one final time.

Feel the burn of his mouth against his own and let that be enough. Let it be the only thing that had him floating above water or it could finally be the thing that drowns him. Be the thing that finally takes him under and he’ll have no choice but to fight for his life. Fight to finally have Cas.

“Dean.” Cas’s voice was shaky and desperate. It sounded like an agonizing plea while he felt Cas shuffle closer. Then Dean’s eyes dropped closed as he felt just the slight brush of their lips.

He felt Cas’s full-body shiver as he sighed and Dean wanted to see more.

A whimper escaped between Dean’s lips as he felt his whole body heat up and he knew - fuck he knows! - how stupid this is. How much this will hurt when he eventually ends up getting fucking pulverized but he can’t think of that right now. He can't think of the damn consequences when Cas is right here. When he is slowly crumbling against his touch.

Dean tilted his head forward again to brush their lips together to finally-

The loud knocking on the roof of the car made them jump back. Cas quickly crawled back to his side of the bench only to jump back when Mick was at the window. Clearly forcing a smile.

Clearly, he saw the whole thing.

“Cas.” Dean tried reaching for him but Cas was already opening the car door.

Mick looked like he was about to scream but his face froze as the anger faded to concern. “Castiel! What - what happened?!”

“Can we talk inside?” Cas closed the car door and Dean flinched in the driver's seat.

“Sure.” Mick took Cas’s hand and Dean couldn’t see their expressions anymore but he saw Cas stiff shoulders as they walked away from the car. Hand in hand they didn’t look back and Dean was left alone.

Again.

Cas didn’t pick him again. He knew it too and it still fucking hurt like a son of a bitch.

He hit the steering wheel in frustration a few times, letting out screams before he quickly turned on the car to start to drive.

He can’t go home. No. Home kind of walked away from him again. But he’ll stay at Bobby’s.

Just the idea of walking into his cold apartment shatters him. So he’ll go and bother his little brother. He’ll just...he’ll take the long way home.

Dean spent most of the next day bussing himself with work. If he wasn’t under a car then he was in his office - pulling his hair mostly - finishing paperwork that felt never-ending. He ignored his personal phone - putting it on do not disturb with the exception of Sam, Charlie, and Bobby - while he tried to think of anything but Cas.

He did it for five fucking years so why was it so hard now? Why can’t he just push him back and out of his mind again?

Dean let his head fall and bang against the desk. Maybe it’ll knock some sense back into him.

“Why is it that you’re always doing that when I walk in?” He heard Sam’s voice and Dean’s response was just to flip him off. He heard Sam laugh and then two chairs scrape against the floor. He looked up to see Charlie was also there.

“What do you two want? I told you I still don’t have the money.” He folded his arms on the desk and let his chin rest on them. “I promise I’ll call you so you can see the number.”

“It’s dinner time, stupid.” Charlie pushed the paper bags on the desk where Sam was cleaning up. Stacking papers on one side and making room so they wouldn’t dirty anything. She smiled down at him, it was sad again. “You didn’t eat breakfast and barely finished your lunch.”

“Not hungry.” He shrugged as if they would buy it.

They shared a look with each other and Dean rolled his eyes.

“Well, we are. So eat with us.” She said while she opened the paper bags to hand him the food they got him. “We even went across town to get those curly fries you like.”

“Yeah and look!” Sam gives him a black styrofoam take out container. “We got you that berry cobbler you like! With ice cream.”

Dean lifts his head up and accepts the cobbler. “Fine. But it better be warm.”

They were about to start eating when they heard a soft knock at the door. Dean sighed as he called out, “It’s open!”

The door slowly opened and then Cas popped his head in with an awkward smile. Those sad eyes front and center again.

Dean quickly stood up but then he noticed Mick was standing beside him with his arm around Cas’s waist.

“Um, hello everyone.” Cas smiled at them and there was a hard tug on his lips. He swallowed hard as he awkwardly shuffled his feet before stuffing his hands in his pockets. Then his eyes looked up to meet Dean’s. “Dean? Can we talk?”

No. No. It sounds broken. Sounds like he’s about to say...goodbye.

Tag List p1: Ask to be added or removed! It’s chill. I post way too much lol

@galaxycastiel @superduckbatrebel @slipper007 @ar-bi-trary @winchestcas

@imlivingliferightnow @bi-bi-marie @nguyenxtrang @dancerdovegirl

@chocolatecakecas @trasherasswood @celestialcastiel @castiel-is-a-cat

@readeroftheimmortalbooks @marichankitty @confusedisaster

@castiels-bitch @destiel-bitches @tearsofgrace @wigglebox

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sicklybanjos · 4 years

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ye oldeee snzfic

okay so i don’t pretend to be a writer now, but damn i was convinced of it in middle school and hs. i was cleaning out an old computer and found this relic of the past, my (probably) first snzfic from when i was FoUrtEEn and had just come across SFF and wanted to create my ~own~ for a fandom i liked, with a self-insert character ofc lmao. it’s bad. it’s cringy. it’s fecking hilarious (imo). gooood luck, with my avalon high sicfic omg:

Miles went to Wendy's house, like he always did before school. Usually Wendy was waiting for him on the steps, either reading or editing something for the newspaper. But today she was no where near the steps. Miles assumed she was still getting ready, so he went up and rang the doorbell. Mrs. Cross opened the door and welcomed Miles, and then told him, "Sorry Miles, Wendy's sick in bed and she's not coming to school.""Oh and is she exactly taking this news well?" Miles asked. He knew Wendy could be stubborn at times, and that she wouldn't take something like this easily. Mrs. Cross laughed, "Of course not. If you want, you can go upstairs and try to talk sense into her.""Okay thank you Mrs. C." And with that Miles headed up the stairs. Miles heard Wendy before he saw her. HCISH HCSXU. He knocked on the door, and strolled into her room. Wendy was in bed, with a mountain of used tissues in the trashcan next to her. She looked terrible; her face was pale, except for the slightly flushed cheeks and pink nose. She sneezed again and blew her nose loudly before she noticed him. "So Wendy, you're looking peachy.""Shud up Biles. KHSIXI. TSCHU." Her voice was hoarse and extremely stuffy. She blew her nose again, and Miles awkwardly shoved his hands in his pockets. "Do you need me to take your homework home? I mean Allie and I could, since we're both in your classes. Well combined that is..." He trailed off. "Doe I'b goig to school. Deres a dewspaper beetig ad I have to be dere ad-"Miles cut her off, "Wendy you're crazy. You're too sick to go; Allie and I'll take your work home. It's fine, Wen.""But were od a deadlide! Sobeode has to lead the beetig, ad I'b the editor. It's by job, Biles." She sneezed several times more and blew her nose harshly. "I'm not letting you go to school, or lead that meeting.""Why dot? I'b fide, really.""First of all, no you're not. You're too sick to get out of bed, much less go to school. Secondly, I can't understand half of the words you say, since your voice is too scratchy and stuffed up. And if I can't, then a room of noisy high schoolers definably won't be able to. Speaking of," He handed her the tissue box, "Blow. Dr. Miles' orders."She did as she was told, and blew her nose for nearly a minute. "Better?" He asked, smirking. "Sobewhat, I guess." "That's my girl. And so you don't worry your head off, I'll lead the meeting. No objections.""But you dod't doe how to lead a dewspaper beetig. You should cut it short or baybe I should just..." She began to sit up, looking fazed for a second, then fine again. Miles hollered out, "Mrs. Cross! Wendy's being ridiculous and trying to get out of bed." Se glared at him, "Whad did you do dat for?" He smirked, "Because your crazy and I need back up.""Wendy sweetie don't be ridiculous, you need rest." Mrs. Cross came in with a small basket, which contained a large box of tissues, cough drops, cold medicine, and some other things. "Here Miles, can you put this on her side table?" Handing him the tissue box, "She goes through them like crazy." "Bob!" Wendy exclaimed. "Relax. Now I'll be downstairs doing the laundry, holler if you need anything." Then she turned to Miles, "You should probably leave in a few minutes to still make it to school. Make sure you wash your hands before you leave, though." Turning back to Wendy, "Get some rest sweetie." And then she left and closed the door halfway. "I should probably head to school, but first, I, Merlin, will lead the newspaper meeting, under the supervision of Lady Wen, via phone." She giggled and then broke it broke into a coughing fit. "Secondly," he started as he headed to the door, "Feel better, Wen. Get some rest, and Allie and I'll bring your work after school, okay?""Fide. Have fud at school. Tell Allie I say hi. And plead dod't ruid by dewspaper beetig. " He pointed to the tissue box again, and as she blew her nose they waved each other off. "Geez Miles what took you so long?" Allie exclaimed when he walk/ran to homeroom, a minute before the bell. "We thought you were gonna be late. And where's Wendy?" "At home, probably regretting letting me run her precious newspaper meeting." Seeing his friend's confused look, he added, "She's sick. And by the way, you and I are taking her work home.""Sure and all, but shes actually letting you run the meeting? How sick is she?" He laughed, "Not on a deathbed if that's what you mean. It's just a flu bug, at least that's what Mrs. C said.""She must really like you to trust you with her precious meeting." He happily sighed before Allie continued, "Do you actually know how to run a meeting, Miles?""No idea but I'll figure it out. It can't be that hard, can it? I can take the finished papers to Wendy, and she's already let the staff that I'm running it, and that it'll be cut short, but it can't go too wrong." Miles cleared his throat, "So I um, officially call this meeting to order?"A freshmen raised her hand, "You have no idea what you're doing, do you?""Not a clue. So what am I supposed to do next?""Take attendance." The younger girl said, pointing to the clipboard next to Miles. "Riiight. Um Clara?""Here.""Karen?""Present.""Marco?""Here you nitwit.""Righty then. Wendy's absent, so Lilly?" He continued down the list, and only two people didn't make it. "Okay so now what?" He asked the freshmen girl, Clara. "Well most off us are done with our articles already, and there's no need to pick new topics yet; so the people who are done can turn theirs in to be edited, and anyone else can ask questions." And with that, more than half of the members stood up and handed their papers to Miles, and then left. Clara was in that line, but volunteered to stay to help guide Miles. "Next, these people either need to ask a question, rent out a camera, or are just waiting for you to dismiss them." One person had a question about if he could create a poll to answer a question, and Clara nodded a yes, and them the question asker left. "Wendy likes visual aids, if they're usable with the article."Two people needed to rent out the schools cameras, and the other two just needed dismissing. Afterwards Clara congratulated Miles for not doing too badly, and then told him to let Wendy know that she hopes Wendy feels better soon. After the meeting, Miles packed up his stuff and Wendy's homework and headed to her house. When he got there, he knocked on the door, and then went up to Wendy's room. "Feeling better?" He asked. "Sure I'b fide. How was the beetig? Did id rud sboothly? Did you doe whad to do? You did't call so I wasd'd sure if you dew whad to do. Ad- ad- HIXCH TIXCHU ad did adyode turd id deir ardicules? Ad-"He handed her a tissue, "Calm down, Wen. It went well, most people turned in their articles, and I didn't call because you needed your rest.""But how did you doe whad to do?""One of the freshmen girls, Clara, kinda told me what to do.""Okay well dats be- be-HICHC KIXCHU TSCHX bedder." Miles frowned. His girlfriend sounded miserable, and still all she cared about was the newspaper. "Here Wen," He said as he handed her the tissue box, "I really want you to feel better.""Trusd be, I do doo." Then she blew her nose twice and added the used tissues to the ever growing mountain of tissues in the trashcan. "Whad did I midd id school?"He handed her another tissue, "Um we just took notes in a lot if classes. You can copy mine when you're better. Oh! Mr. Neal announced that next week we'll be learning about the printing press. I think you'll like that especially." He smiled. "Really? I cad'd waid! Hobefully I'll be bedder th- ACHXU thed." She reached for a tissue, and it was the last one in the box, "Adother box ebpty. Guess I'll go ged a dew ode."Miles shook his head, "No way. I'll get one. Be right back." He went down the hall and asked Mrs. Cross if he could have a tissue box to take to Wendy."She finished the last one? Oh poor girl, I don't remember the last time she was this sick.""Yeah she sounds so miserable and stuffed up. When do you think she'll be better by?""Good question, Miles. Probably sometime next week. She has the weekend to recover though, and that'll be good for her." He took the tissue box to Wend's room, and when he arrived, she was already fast asleep. He put the tissue box on her side table, pulled the blankets up to her chin, and went home. The next day Miles went straight to school, since he knew he shouldn't wake Wendy up. He met Allie before the bell, and they chatted for a bit.

#the formatting got so messed up and honestly i couldn't care less about fixing it #i know there was more?? like another chapter?? lost forever to the void ig

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audikatia · 5 years

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2.20 Prom Queen

Rating: 5/5. I really, really love this episode. Like, do I even want to watch the rest of the series? Does it get better than this?

Best Song: I’m Not Gonna Teach Your Boyfriend How to Dance With You. This is one of my favorite songs of all time being sung by my celebrity crush. It can’t lose.

Memorable Quote: “What’s the point of dressing up? I mean, that’s why some guys wear the tails with the top hats and the girls wear the hoop skirts.” -Kurt

General Notes:

Mercedes, you have another prom next year to be wooed like the queen you are. Don’t fret.

Kurt’s excitement over Blaine agreeing to go to prom with him has extended my lifespan by approximately ten years. He’s just so pure and happy. I also really love that he did give Blaine an out if it made him too uncomfortable given Blaine’s past trauma with dances, and I love that Blaine told Kurt how crazy he is about him and that he’s willing to give dances another chance with Kurt. I really think they make each other better.

Rachel, Mercedes, and Sam all going to prom is adorable and I love how Rachel and Mercedes came up with a fun way to work within budget restraints. Makes me kinda want to go to prom again

Oh, okay, Jesse! I see you! That raspy rocker voice can get it

I’m really glad I didn’t get involved in all with prom queen bullshit. It seems really un-fun, doing all that campaigning and planning. And then if you don’t win, not only did you have a really stressful few weeks leading up to the night, but then you have a bummer of a night instead of a fun time with friends. That just sorta sucks.

RACHEL. YOU HAVE NEVER BEEN SUPPORTIVE OF FINN AND QUINN.

Also, Rachel you came up with a corsage for Quinn really quickly. God, they just write fic for themselves, don’t they?

Karofsky can’t really pull off that beret, huh?

I feel really bad for Artie. Yeah, he shouldn’t have called Brittany stupid, but he just found out Brittany had been inadvertently cheating on him and that Santana had been taking advantage of Brittany’s naivety. And it’s not his fault that the writers just needed to break them up so she and Santana could be together.

Finn immediately accepting and complimenting Kurt’s prom outfit that Kurt’s clearly proud of warms my cold, dead heart. Again, I love any scene with Burt involved because he is just so perfect. He runs that careful line of wanting Kurt to be exactly who he wants to be but also wanting his kid to be safe. And if I’m being honest, I’m with Burt and Blaine on this one. Blaine went through a pretty horrific attack at his last dance. If my significant other had gone through something like that, I wouldn’t want to do anything that might make them a target again. That’s not to say that Kurt’s outfit isn’t slamming, it is. But I get both sides of the argument.

Also, happy birth of a thousand Kurt-in-a-skirt porn fics.

Oh, also also, Finn has a cup of milk! I can only assume it’s a cup of warm milk that Kurt brought to him <3

Kurt is so optimistic and so certain of the good in the world. And I love that he’s actually kind and supportive to Karofsky when he has every right to be a dick to him. This is also why I like Karofsky because when given the chance to see that he might be accepted, he actually starts becoming a better person. I’m not saying it’s okay that he threatened to kill Kurt, but I do think he (and other people like him) should be given the chance to become better people. Sometimes I think when someone is a bully once, they are painted as a bully forever. We have to allow people to redeem themselves. Isn’t that what we want? We want the bullies to learn their lessons and become good people? Isn’t that better than wanting the bullies to always be bullies and then have shitty lives when they get older? I prefer redemption to punishment. I find that more satisfying, especially when it breaks away from the cycle of abuse.

Kurt is hella attractive in this scene with Karofsky.

And Quinn is so fucking gorgeous with all the mirrors around her, omg. I want to be her. Also, I love that she doesn’t seem to care much that Finn is there to pick her up. Because her focus is, as it always is, on the goal not the person.

Sam, Mercedes… just back out of the conversation with Rachel and Jesse. I have met people like Jesse. Don’t get sucked in.

Puck and Artie is an underrated friendship and I actually really love it

Quinn telling Finn how happy she is to be there with him right after Rachel sang to him is such a good manipulative move. If she had been in Game of Thrones, she would have won.

Oh, Sam and Mercedes are precious. They are both such good people

Artie’s hair looks amazing

Darren Criss singing one of my favorite songs is legitimately going to kill me. The way he’s dancing with the mic stand? Holding the mic sideways? His expressions? I am deceased.

Also, what a lame fight with Finn and Jesse. Just shoving? C’mon, punch each other like adults.

THE REVEAL. Remember when it was spoiled and everyone thought the spoiler was fake? lol good times, classic Glee. Okay, but I have a lot of thoughts on this. 1. Why did Figgins read out Kurt’s name? If I was the principal, I would have said the name of one of the girls on stage. Kurt did not need to be humiliated like that. 2. Quinn and Santana, I get that it’s upsetting to work that hard, but shut the fuck up. It’s not that you weren’t liked or that people give enough of a shit about Finn and Rachel that they didn’t vote, it’s that they are cruel people who cared more about making fun of Kurt. 3. YAS QUINN. SLAP RACHEL. This shit is so compelling. 4. KURT. BABY. He wants so badly to see the good in the world and they just won’t let that happen for him. And bless Blaine for going after him, for comforting him, for willing to do whatever Kurt wants to do to feel better. May we all have a Blaine in our lives.

Also, Blaine had tissues ready? I have literally never met a man who had tissues in his pocket or whatever. Blaine is a dream.

AND THEN BLAINE ASKS HIM TO DANCE. This man is a dreamboat, I swear. And this is such a big moment for both of them, Kurt being openly loved and Blaine replacing the memory of his last dance. Ugh, I love them so much.

#Glee #audi rewatches Glee #Klaine

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xonepeacelovex · 5 years

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Lovestruck | 2

Character: Y/N & Seungmin

Genre: a little bit angst

Summary: But I know I’ll only be a friend.

Based on: Lovestruck by Over October

Disclaimer: I’m not a writer. And this is purely fiction.

AN: This is the second part of Lovestruck.

When I said I want to experience life more I didn’t mean to helplessly have a crush to a stranger turned friend whom until now didn’t remember we’ve already met before because of his drunk ass. Now thinking back to our first meeting, it is not really Seungmin’s good look that made me fall for him. It is his genuine smile, sincere words and gentle yet cute actions. I still laugh that he called wrist a hand ankle that night.

I seriously don’t want this kind of feeling. Not now actually. I am pursuing my dreams and I need to focus on this. I didn’t need someone to make my heart flutter whenever they smile. So I will set aside this feeling and pray hard that it will not go further than a crush should be. Kim Seungmin really is a good project partner and a great friend. We aced that subject. I’m grateful because he made my first semester bearable. But the thing about Kim Seungmin is that he is always there.. beside me. He likes to brighten my day with his smile. It is my first time having this kind of friend. He’s so clingy that he makes it harder for me to actually set aside my feelings. The trick I learned is whenever he smiles or do something teasingly fluttering too is to say that he’s cute like a puppy. He’ll be annoyed for sure and he’ll stop teasing me.

Now I only have one problem and that is Hwang Hyunjin. Okay. This guy knew that we’ve met already before but acted like he didn’t knew me. Maybe because of Seungmin’s antics that night.

“Guys, this is Y/N. She’s in my class. Y/N this is my friends.” One by one I shake hands with 8 people. I actually am trying to remember all their names. It is too much for me to be honest. Hwang Hyunjin was shocked when he saw me but kept quiet. And because of his reaction I didn’t say anything too.

I’ve learned that he is Seungmin’s bestfriend. We’re not close but we acknowledge each other whenever we see each other. Hyunjin is too observant. I always catch him looking at me whenever I look at Seungmin. I know he knows something.

“Yah! Y/N!” I looked behind me and there’s Hwang Hyunjin. “Hi Hyunjin. What’s up?” I said with a smile. “Can we talk?” my smile dropped. “Yeah. About what?” I said nervous in what he’ll say next. “Seungmin” my heart dropped. My secret is out. We went to this cafe shop near the university. “So what about Seungmin, Hyunjin?” I act nonchalantly. I should prepare myself for this. “I know.” OH MY GOSH HYUNJIN. “What exactly do you know?” I said calmly. Please Hyunjin don’t say it. I only ask to be his friend. “He’s waiting for someone. His heart is already taken.” “I know.” I smiled sadly. His eyes widen. “H-How?” “Doesn’t matter Hyunjin. Just please whatever you know about me just bury it okay? I already know my place. I won’t ask for more.” “Uh... Okay.” He suddenly became aware of the situation. We’re not that close to talk about my unrequited love. “Did my words came harsh?” I chuckled “Yeah. A little bit.” teasing him. “I’m sorry. I just don’t want you to be hurt.” I smiled now but genuinely for the first time in Hyunjin. “He’s someone I don’t want to lose Hyunjin. But I know I’ll only be a friend.” Something in my chest shatters. I swallowed whatever it is that is in my throat.

I am in the library finishing the last requirement I had to submit before the semester break. And here with me is Kim Seungmin. He already finished all his works but I don’t know why he’s still here. “Yah. Y/N. What is love to you?” Annoyed that he is distracting me with these kind of questions I look at him with a glare. “Seungmin I swear if you don’t stop with that questions I’ll throw to you my laptop.” He pouted. Can you stop that Seungmin? “Okay. I’m sorry. Can you just let me finish this first and I’ll answer all your questions later if only you will treat me an ice cream.” “Wow. Now I’m the one who should treat you something, meanie.” he pouted his lips more. “Okay. Okay. I’ll treat you an ice cream. Oh my god Seungmin. You’re such a child.” I laughed at his childishness.

“At last.” I sigh as I step out of the library building, stretching my arms in the sky. Now, it is dark and I didn’t see any stars in the sky. Maybe it will rain. “Y/N can we have dinner first. I am hungry.” “Mmm. Okay.” We ate in our favorite ramen restaurant in the alley on the way to our favorite ice cream shop. While I’m enjoying my hot ramen in this colder night he asked me “So Y/N what is love to you?” I choked at my ramen and he wiped my mouth with tissue with a confused look. “You said you will answer it later.” I look at him, him who is still wiping my mouth and now wiping my shirt. Seungmin don’t make it hard for me. “I don’t know Seungmin.” I sighed. “What?! Don’t tell me you still don’t experience love?” he looked at me shocked. Maybe. “You know what.” determined to answer his question so he will stop with this whole what is love fiasco. “I think love is beautiful.” That’s it, Y/N? That’s all you got? “Why Seungmin? What is love?” you questioned him back so he can’t question your not-so-good answer. “Love is when you are ready to wait for someone. Wait until it’s your turn.” he said while looking outside the window. Why your answer looks like love is not a beautiful thing? Why are your eyes so sad? The rain is now pouring. Hmm. So the bracelet really means something to you. “Looks like someone is waiting for someone.” you joked looking at him. Still looking at the rain, he answered “I will wait. I can wait.” For who Seungmin? Who is that someone? “Of course. You can do anything if you put your heart and mind to it.” “Yah! Y/N, this is not finals. You can’t use that motivational words to this.” “What? Who said you can’t use that motivational words other than in academics?” you both laughed. “I think it is better if you said ‘I’ll be beside you. So you can do it my friend.’” I smiled and he smiled back. Thump. Now the atmosphere is lighter so I didn’t answer back.

“It is a bad idea to get ice cream in this kind of weather.” I said as we are getting back to our dorms. “I know you hate the cold weather Y/N. That is why I always say to you to bring your hoodie so you will not get cold.” while Seungmin is nagging he is also handing me his own hoodie. “And besides, even we are in North pole you will still eat ice cream for sure.” he said mumbling. “What? Why would I do that? If I can just borrow yours?” I raise my brow teasingly. “And I know this kind of weather doesn’t affect you cause you are basically a puppy so you’re warm.” I said while patting his head like what I’ll do with puppies. His eyes widen in horror that I called him a puppy. “I’m not.” “You are honey. You know that.” He blushed. Now that is new. I laughed at his reaction.

Outside my dorm while sitting in the pavement we finished our ice cream. And I got my hands sticky because of it. I remember the first time we’ve met. “Hand ankle” I said smiling while reminiscing. “What? Hand ankle???” he looked at me. “Yeah. Hand ankle.” I hold up my wrist and show it to him. “This. Hand ankle.” confused he just look at me. I laughed cause he really don’t remember that night. Now for the last moment I’ll treasure in the future I decided to hold Seungmin’s face with my sticky hands. I’m holding my laughter because he’s now flustered, annoyed even that I touch his face with my sticky hands. I looked into his eyes. Thump. Thump. My smile faltered. I can feel my heart beating fast and then slowly shuttering. “Seungmin, I’ll always be there for you. I’ll always be your friend.” now I smiled at him. He did not know what I meant behind those words but I can only hope that he somehow felt what I really want to say. I hold his right wrist now. I tie the yellow & purple bracelet around his wrist that I made as a gift for our successful project and most importantly for our friendship. I raised my eyebrow at him playfully. Seungmin is still shocked and more confused with what I’m doing. I turned around immediately so I can dodge his next move. Maybe he’ll shout at me for touching his face. Or maybe not. Maybe he saw the truth behind my eyes and will ask me for it. I will answer it some other time. When the sky is clear, where I can see the stars shine brightly. I waved my hand with the same bracelet that I put on Seungmin’s hand ankle as I walk inside the dormitory. “See you tomorrow Kim Seungmin! Wash your face! Good night!” I smiled this time knowing where my heart should be. Contented.

#yay part 2 #cause i dont have anything to do #stray kids #skz #stray kids scenario #stray kids scenarios #stray kids imagines #stray kids angst #stray kids seungmin #stray kids kim seungmin #stay #xonepeacelovex

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wata-wasu · 6 years

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[TL] Otona no Meruhen Vol.2

This is one of the cutest drama CDs I’ve ever listened to!! omg Peter Pan is just so precious and pure and innocent. I hope you guys love him like I do. (♡ơ⌄ơ) Just get some tissues ready for later. Like usual, correct me if I translated something incorrectly.

WARNING: This is a r18 drama CD!!

Please don’t repost my translations anywhere else! If you really have to, then send me an ask so I know!

大人のメルヘンシリーズ大人になりたくない少年～好奇心旺盛な彼～ (Adult Fairy Tales Series The Young Boy Who Doesn’t Want to Become an Adult ~A Boy Full of Curiosity~)

CV – 木島宇太 (Mizushima Takahiro)

【Track List】

1.お邪魔します (Excuse Me for Intruding) 2.男と女の違い (The Differences Between Men and Women) 3.子供は見ちゃダメ (Children Aren’t Allowed to Look) 4.大人になりたい (I Want to Become an Adult) 5.じっとしてて… (Stay Still…) 6.幸せになってほしいから (I Want You to Become Happy) 7.いひゃいってば！(I Said It Hurts!) 8.ひとこと (A Single Word) 9. シークレットトラック (Secret Track)

***

Track 01 – Excuse Me for Intruding

[0.04]

Excuse me for intruding. Heave-ho.

Oooi. Oi! Where did you head off to? My shadow. Where are you hiding? Uh… Could it be here?

[0.33]

Eh? I touched something! Eh? U-uwah! Sh-shhh! Don’t scream! What will you do if someone comes?

Calm down. I’m not a burglar. I’m just trying to search for something. I won’t do anything to you, Miss. I’ll leave right after I find my shadow. Please, won’t you let me stay for a bit?

[1.05]

Ah, thank goodness.

Me? I’m Peter. I kind of got my shadow knocked out of me.

[1.22]

You don’t know what a shadow is? Whenever light shines on me, a dark figure comes out on the walls or ground. Why did you ask if you already knew that? Geez, I don’t have time for this so shut up a little.

Hmm, not here either. Where did it go?

[1.53]

Uh? This is where I flew in. Yep, I flew. Eh? I can fly! What about it? If you wish hard enough, anything can come true. Miss, if you wish hard enough, you’ll definitely be able to fly.

I’m serious. If you think I’m lying, then try it out yourself.

Uh, is it in here? Ah, it’s here! What am I doing? Catching my shadow. Ah, come here! Don’t run away! Wait! Be obedient, and go back into my body!

[2.51]

I finally caught it. This? It’s my shadow. I explained it to you earlier, remember? Whenever light comes out…

Huh? It ran away so I, of course, caught it. More importantly, putting it back on will be a problem.

[3.16]

Hm, Miss, do you have anything I can use to reattach it? I just need to reattach it so anything will do. Hm…

What’s in this box? Ouch! A sewing kit? Then that means you can use the needle and thread to reattach my shadow. A long time ago, I saw someone do the same with a button. Surely my shadow can be fixed the same way.

[3.49]

It’s possible! Here, if you please. Aha, I’m so glad. It won’t disappear anymore.

Hm? Yes, that’s right. If I don’t have my shadow, it’ll disappear. There’s never been a time where I’ve existed without my shadow. In this world, shadows also have humans, right? That’s the same as me.

Uh? What is it? This world is this world. It’s the world you live in. I’m not a human from this world. Ah, but it’s not like I don’t exist. You can see me after all, Miss.

[4.39]

I exist because people believe in me. That’s why I’m relieved I can exist here together with you guys. Well, I guess you can say I’m fairy-like. Ah, but I’m still pretty different from fairies. I think I’m more of an ambiguous being. I’m neither adult nor child.

Are you already done? Eh, thank you!

[5.12]

Say, Miss, are you an adult? Or a child? You appear to be an adult, but when I think about it, you’re kind of child-like.

Wa-wait a sec! You didn’t have to hit me with a pillow, right? I didn’t say anything rude at all. I can see your behavior is like that of an adult, but the inside of your mind is like a child’s, right? I was just making a harmless guess.

[5.47]

Writer? Miss, do you want to become a writer? Eh, you want to write children’s books. Hm, um…

A princess whose kisses contain magical powers. A fairy became better after receiving a kiss. So… What’s a kiss? Can a kiss make a fairy feel better? Ehhh, I don’t really understand. Can you give me one? Here!

What am I doing? I want a kiss. C’mon, hurry and give me one.

[6.38]

Why are you making that confused face?

Thank you! Eh, so this is a kiss. It feels kind of fluffy.

It was a pincushion? Uh, well, whatever. Shoot, this won’t do! I have to get going! Yeah, I’m going home. I’ll see you later.

[7.16]

Oh, that’s right. Thanks for the kiss!

Track 02 – The Differences Between Men and Women

[0.08]

Oi, heave-ho. Oops! That surprised me. Ahaha, sorry, sorry. Today, I have some business with you, Miss. I want to talk for a bit.

Miss, you know a lot of things about your kind, right? I want to know what kids like. I want you to tell me how lost children find their way home. I don’t know much about it.

[0.45]

Really?! Thank goodness! Ehehe, anything’s fine. I don’t mind what kind of story it is. I just want a good story.

Ohh, I’ve never heard of this story. Alright, go ahead and tell me. Yeah, yeah.

[1.23]

And they all lived happily ever after, huh? So hey, there are some things you read that I don’t understand. Why did the man and woman stay together to the very end? More importantly, what are the differences between men and women?

Ah, and also kisses. All that stuff you told me about kisses was a lie wasn’t it? The princess will wake up after being kissed by a prince. No matter how I think about it, eyes can’t open due to that. It made a fairy feel better, too.

[2.05]

Miss, are you lying to me? Ahhh, this won’t do. This is why I dislike adults. They lie so much.

I think that’s a seriously bad habit.

[2.25]

What about me? If you seriously do feel bad, show me what a kiss really is this time. Why did your face suddenly go red? I’m just saying, you look red.

Oh? You can’t kiss me if my eyes aren’t closed? I guess it can’t be helped. Here, my eyes are closed.

Huh?! M-my lips… What did you do to me just now?! This is a kiss. It was just a short moment, but it felt surprisingly good.

[3.21]

H-hey! Do it one more time! It’s fine isn’t it? It’s no big deal. If you won’t do it, I will.

Aha, it really does feel amazingly good. Hey, one more time. Why can’t I? It should be fine.

[3.54]

I know what a kiss is now, but I still don’t understand why the princess woke up. So that’s why, one more time.

The power of love? What’s that? Then show me what a kiss of love is. Why isn’t it possible?

[4.27]

Then what is love?

Miss, even though you’re an adult, you can’t answer that question? Don’t adults know everything? Why is it that adults don’t know everything?

[4.47]

Hmmm, I still don’t understand. Adult stuff and kid stuff, male stuff and female stuff… There’s so many difficult things.

Ah, but since men and women are different, you can tell me and you apart, right? I mean, you are a girl, right? I’m a man, and our appearances are different. Surely, our bodies have even more differences, right?

[5.23]

Look, I don’t have two of these squishy bulges. What am I doing? Aren’t I exploring your body? Since adults can’t explain things very well, I want you be to obedient and let me explore. O-ohh, you’re wearing clothes so I can’t tell what’s underneath.

Don’t struggle. I’m undressing you, aren’t I? Shouldn’t it be fine for me to get a small glimpse?

Ahh, how beautiful. Yours is totally different from my body. Your skin is smooth and pale in color. This spot is extremely soft. You also smell kind of good.

[6.32]

Is it alright if I lick you? You feel really soft, and you look sweet.

Amazing. So this is what a female body is like. While I was licking and sucking, a sweet voice came out of you, Miss. Hm? No way. I’m not going to stop. More…

Ah! Ahh, I’m sorry. I couldn’t stop myself. So, um, thank you. You taught me a lot of things today.

[7.30]

Ah, can I borrow a few books? I want to study up on various things. The book about a prince who cast a magical spell, and the book of girls’ secrets and confessions.

Thank you! I’ll be back again.

Track 03 – Children Aren’t Allowed to Look

[0.09]

Hey~ I guess you’re asleep.

Ah! I-I’m sorry. I thought I could wake you up by calling out to you, but you wouldn’t wake up. I-it’s not like I was just waiting here so I can look at you. I came in only a few moments earlier.

[0.45]

You’re making an “I don’t believe you” face. I’m being serious! Why are you making a shocked face?

Ah, I’m here today to return your books. Here, thank you. They were all interesting, and I learned a lot. Oh, yeah, there’s something I want to ask. Yeah, it’s about this book’s content.

[1.17]

It fell and opened as I was making my way back here. Just give it a little look. This book is amazing! There are men and women in it, and they’re doing stuff together while naked.

Oh! Why did you toss it away? Eh? Children aren’t allowed to look at these things?

Hmm. Hey! I’m not a kid, though! I’m really interested in the book. Ah, just like how we were kissing earlier, there are pictures of people kissing in it, too. Look, it’s right here. They have their legs intertwined, but I don’t understand what they’re doing.

[2.11]

Why are you closing your eyes? You can’t see it like that, right? Ah, how about I read for a change?

Um, the man’s girlfriend was close to bursting as his hands grasped at her skin and chest. The firmness in his hands grew as he reached down her slender waist towards her pussy and-

Eh? I shouldn’t read this? Oh, okay then. Miss, do you hate these sort of things?

[2.45]

Hmm, even though it seems so interesting. What a pity. I wanted to ask you a bunch of questions about that book, Miss. Well, whatever. I’ll study it myself.

I’ll come back again once I’ve finished studying. I’m off.

Track 04 – I Want to Become an Adult

[0.09]

Heave-ho. Uwaahh, you scared me! You’re awake. Heave-ho.

So what are you doing? Show me what you’re hiding behind your back. Don’t act like it’s not important. If you have something you don’t want me to see, I’ll get mad. C’mon, hurry up, and let me see!

[0.52]

Hm? What is this? It’s not a book. What’s this supposed to be?

There’s a photo of a man, but… Arranged marriage? Eh? In other words, the man in the photo is the one you’re going to marry? It hasn’t been decided yet, but it seems like it’ll happen.

What are you talking about? No way. Definitely not!

[1.37]

I don’t want you to! If you marry that guy… Why is that guy suitable for you? Oh? Even if you don’t want to, you’re going to have to marry him anyway. Even if you don’t love him…

Isn’t that weird? I read in all those stories that you can’t have a marriage if there’s no love involved. In the end, everyone’s supposed to live happily ever after. And yet…

[2.15]

Of course I would be mad! “Why?” you ask. Maybe it’s because… Miss, I… I love you. I’ve been thinking about you a lot for a long time. I always want to talk to you again, and I want to hear your voice. I want to touch you more and more. This is what you call love, right?

Don’t run away. I am a man after all. I’m stronger than you. Hey, look at me.

Miss, your kisses really do feel great. I want to do it again.

[3.39]

Hey, can I touch you? Your breasts and down there, too. Yeah, this might not end with just touching.

Miss, I want to become an adult like you. I’ve thought about it in the past and now. If it’s for you, I want you to be happy and give you a happy end. Falling in love, getting married, having children, and living happily ever after…

That’s why… I want to become an adult.

Track 05 – Stay Still…

[0.03]

S-so… Take off your clothes. It’s fine. I’ll undress myself.

How do you take off this underwear? A hook in the back? I knew that! I just forgot is all. W-what? Shoot… I’ll do it myself! It’s fine so stay still, Miss. Ah! I did it! Ahh, they look soft.

[1.23]

Oh? Does it feel good? I see.

No! Miss, where are you touching? No, I’m fine. Don’t stop. I already took my clothes off earlier. A little bit came out, and it feels unpleasant. No, that didn’t come out! Um, my little guy came out earlier…

D-don’t call me cute! Are you looking down on me?

[2.23]

Ah! Don’t stare at me so much. I’m fine! Ahh! W-what are you…

Yeah, it feels good, but why do you know how to do this? For some reason, you’re great at this. Is it because this isn’t your first time?

[3.14]

How unfair!

I won’t allow you to look down on me. It’s kind of frustrating. I can also do more things to you, Miss. I want to make you feel good.

[3.57]

I’m going to touch you down there. I’m touching it.

Are you nervous?! I’ll do my best. If you don’t like it or it hurts, be sure to tell me.

Ah! Amazing. Your spot here is getting wet. It’s because it feels good, right?

[5.10]

Amazing. A lot’s coming out. Does my finger feel that good? Ehe, I’m glad.

Can I add in another finger?

Ah! Does it feel good here? You tightened up a little. I should be able to enter you in a bit. I want to enter you.

[6.14]

I-I’m going in. I’m halfway in. Can I put the rest in? Oh, my God. This feels way too good. Ahhh, don’t do that! Miss, don’t move. Stay still for a little longer. If you don’t, I’ll cum right away.

D-don’t laugh at me! I was abstinent, y’know. Damn it.

[7.08]

I-I’m telling you, stop calling me cute! I’ll punish you the next time you say it. Y-you’re wondering how. Well… A-anyway, I will do something terrible to you, Miss. Ah, ahh, stop it! Damn it, someday I’ll get my revenge.

U-uh, well, I’m going to fill my heart up with lots of anger. Miss, you might look calm, but are you fine with this being done to you? We’ve only been like this for a short time, but your legs are already spread open.

[8.13]

What’s wrong? Is it becoming unbearable because I’m going in deeper? Where did that calmness from earlier go? Ehe, right, right. My thing is making you secrete fluids down there. That’s the cutest part about you.

I can’t anymore! I’m going to cum! Can I cum on your stomach?

[9.26]

I-I’m sorry. I came on your face a little. W-wait a second. I’ll wipe it off. Ah, this’ll do.

Track 06 – I Want You to Become Happy

[0.05]

Okay, I’m done cleaning you. Eh, you’re putting your clothes back on? It is cold, but I wanted to hold you while you were naked. Hooray!

It’ll be okay. If we hold each other like this, we won’t be cold. Hey, look here.

I really do love you after all, Miss. I understand it clearly now. Becoming one with you has made me happy. I love everything about you, Miss. Well, I’d like it if you felt the same.

[1.18]

Eh? You love everything about me? Seriously? I see. If you didn’t like me, you wouldn’t have done it with me. I’m so happy! Thank goodness! Our love is mutual!

Miss, I love you. Because I’ve come to love you, I can see various things in this world differently. We can watch the moon through the window even though I don’t care much for it now. It’s such a beautiful sight. From now and forever, I want to stay with you.

[2.11]

Oh! Ah, yeah… Well… I’m sorry. It seems like I won’t be able to stay with you forever after all. I think it’s because something weird. Recently, my shadow has been slowly fading away. It’s only a matter of time until my existence disappears as well.

It can’t be helped. I was able to do so many things, even fall in love with you. I’d love to learn more and more. At today’s end, I became one with you. Surely I’ve finally become an adult. My longing can come to a stop now. My existence was rather uncertain before because I was neither adult nor child. I guess that’s all ending today.

[3.24]

Hey, look here. I can clearly see your shadow being cast by the moonlight. Mine is… It isn’t visible anymore, right?

This is fine with me. Like the lost children, I’ve lived a fine life so I don’t mind leaving. Our feelings were able to become mutual.

[4.01]

I’m sorry. I’m leaving you behind with nothing but sad memories, but it’ll be alright. You’ll definitely forget me right away. Adults are those kinds of creatures, right?

Anyway, you’ll be able to find a nice man. C’mon, you still have that guy from the photo. It’s extremely frustrating, but he’ll be able to make you happy.

[4.48]

I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be in this much pain. I want to see plenty of smiles from you. I want to be able to hold you so many more times. I truly want to make you happy. More than that, I want to be with you forever and ever.

However, I’ve become an adult. I can’t cause more trouble than this. I want you to become happy so don’t cry. I’m also extremely frustrated about this.

[5.42]

Miss, I love you so much. Thank you for telling me you love me.

So even adults can cry at times like this. I see. Then I want to cry for a little longer, too.

[6.22]

I’m so glad I met you. Thank you.

Hey, close your eyes.

I love you.

Track 07 – I Said It Hurts!

[0.14]

Heee~y! Ah, I’m sorry for suddenly stopping you, Miss.

Ah, are you surprised? Ehehe, I came back! Yeah, I wonder what caused this. I don’t understand it either, but it seems like I turned into a human from this world so please take good care of me.

[0.53]

This isn’t a lie! I’m the real deal. Do you want to test it by pulling my cheeks? Eh, ouch! I said it hurts! Ahh, that hurt so bad.

Wait a second! You wouldn’t normally pull your own cheeks that hard would you? Why did you pull mine so hard? I didn’t like the pain. Who goes to such great lengths? Ah, that hurt.

[1.30]

Who’s fault do you think it is? Hm, well, whatever. Miss, it seems like your shadow has returned.

Maybe it’s because you wished really hard to God that we’d meet again. Since you wished so hard, God definitely granted it. Didn’t I teach you before, “if you wish strongly enough, it’ll surely come true?” I’m sure that’s why I’m here.

[2.05]

O-oh! Oh. Yeah, I’m really glad, too. Yep, from now on, we’ll be together forever. I’m never letting go of you ever again.

Track 08 – A Single Word

I’m not going to translate the free talk word for word.

Mizushima sends his gratitude to those who listened to the very end. He goes on to talk about how interesting it was to record using a dummy head mic and how effective it is when recording from different angles. He also admits there were some pretty difficult parts of the CD to act out. He says he’ll work hard and asks the audience to listen to his future works. Mizushima ends with a thank you.

Track 09 – Secret Track

[0.07]

Hey, open up! It’s cold so hurry up! If I don’t enter like this, you wouldn’t let me in. Really, work again! Miss, between work and me, who is more important? H-hey, wait a second! What do you mean by immediately replying with work? Act a little more worried- Uwaaah!!

Ahhh, that was close. I can’t fly for very long so open up immediately. It’ll be troublesome if I use the key at the entrance. Besides, I’m used to coming in this way.

[1.10]

Isn’t it better if you just open up when you hear footsteps? Geez, weren’t you too busy to let me in your room? Why wouldn’t you let me in today?

Huh? Miss, isn’t your face red? Oh, hmm. You don’t have a fever. Anyway, don’t you reek of alcohol? Huuh?! Were you too busy drinking alone to invite me in? Why is a writer drinking while on the job? Eh?

[2.05]

Hmm, I see. You were drinking because you wanted to write a scene about the heroine’s first drinking experience. That’s why you were drinking on the job. Haa, how stupid. How are you going to write when your face is that red?

Haaa, if you’ve got a headache, go treat yourself. Did you already sleep today? It’s impossible to work now! Listen to me obediently. Go to sleep! Since you insist on working, show me your drafts after you feel better. Well, it’d be impossible with your face as red as it is.

[2.51]

Eh?! Uwaaah! W-what are you doing all of a sudden? I-I did say to show me your drafts. What’s the meaning-

W-wait a second. S-stupid, is this your idea of a draft? M-Miss? Did you really become stupid? Did you let the alcohol go to your head?

[3.24]

Uwaah! W-wait a second! I-it can’t be helped, right? You keep doing weird stuff so it just reacted. Eh? A-aah! D-don’t take it in one mouthful! I said to stop it.

Asking me that with that timing… You’re cruel! It feels really good. I can’t tell you to stop now. Anyway, Miss, you’re drunk, right? There’s no way you’re doing this while you reek of alcohol.

[4.22]

Hey, wait! What are you trying to do? W-wait, I haven’t done anything to you-

I-I said not to. If you start off rough like that… Doing it like that is too risky. No way! I’m not cumming yet. Miss, you can’t cum either. Endure it! I’m begging you, don’t do that! It’s too much for me!

[5.20]

Enough! Wait up. Stop messing around. You’re always treating me like that because I’m younger. Today I will not, absolutely not let you cum first!

Why are you letting out such an adorable voice? I’m even trying my best to hold back and not cum. I’ll cum if I listen to your voice.

[6.15]

Miss, you really… If that’s the case, I’ll do my best so tell me where your good spots are. I’ll do my best to make you cum. How about your ears? If I do this…

I’ll lick and trace around the shape of your ear. Does it feel good? How was that side? Does it feel good?

[7.23]

When I tease you here… and fondle you here, how does it feel? If I do this to this spot that’s swelling up… I’m going move my tongue faster. How do you like the tightness? Your insides are twitching. So you like it like this. Then until you cum, I’ll keep teasing you here.

You’re tightening around me so much. Are you close to cumming? Cum whenever you want. Cum. C’mon!

[8.57]

J-just now, who was the first to cum? You came first, right? Thank goodness.

Of course I’d be fussy over it. I already had my turn to cum earlier. Anyway, I came so much that I’m exhausted. This isn’t a win-or-lose thing. It’s no big deal. I just let you. Anyway, I want to have more laid back sex. It always seems like you’re the only calm one. Today started with me being assaulted, too.

“Thank you for the meal!” you say?! Miss, you’re a pervert!! Well, but it felt good, though. It’s nothing. Ahh, but from now on, all alcohol is forbidden! Obviously, it would be! You were too forceful on me after you drank. You can only drink if it’s in front of me, but you can never, never, never drink in front of someone else!

[10.37]

Geez, do you really understand what I’m saying? You’re so drunk now that it’s pointless to say anything. When morning comes, I’m not saying anything.

Come here. Let’s go to sleep. You can work tomorrow! C’mon, get in bed.

[11.01]

Ah, I’m tired all of a sudden. Miss, you better be prepared tomorrow. I’ll definitely get my revenge on you. Oh, gosh, she’s already asleep.

Good night. I love you.

#大人のメルヘンシリーズ #Otona no Meruhen #木島宇太 #Mizushima Takahiro #Otome Drama CD #R18 Drama CD #my translations

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emulateharry · 5 years

Text

Valentine

I wrote this for the lovely Rested (@the-well-rested-one). I am posting here with her permission. A little Nick Grimshaw. M/M. Hope you like.

Bloody stupid holiday. Who came up with this anyway? The one day a year that single people were made to feel worse about their plight assuming, of course, that they were unhappy to be sans lover. Why do I even care? It’s purely a commercial day made up by the chocolatiers and florists and greeting card writers. Frivolous waste of money if you ask me.

Nick was so intent on his inner monologue that he didn’t hear the cute guy behind the counter ask for his order.

“Oh, sorry. I’ll have a venti Peppermint White Chocolate Mocha Frappuccino with extra whipped.”

He paid and then moved over to a table to wait for the 400 calories of caffeinated goodness. He had been so good, so good, when he and Meshach were together. He’d started every day with a smoothie and never missed a workout. But screw that. Mesh had gone on to greener pastures and Nick was drowning his sorrows with ‘coffee’. He should be over it by now, it had been months since Mesh had left. But Nick was recovering slowly from this one. Maybe he was meant to be alone after all. He had thought that he was in love with Mesh and vice-versa but when he had told Nick that he was leaving, it wasn’t as devastating as he had imagined it would be. They hadn’t fought but there was a glaring problem in their relationship: Harry Styles. Mesh was jealous of Harry. He had wanted Nick to stay away from him, said Harry was a threat to their relationship. It was a test and Nick had failed miserably. So Meshach had left to pursue someone other than an ‘Old Queen stuck on a guy who didn’t love him back.’ Okay, so that one had hurt. Mostly because it was true.

He heard the barista call his name and went to pick up his whipped cream topped calorie fest. He would have preferred mimosas but BBC1 frowned upon drinking alcohol on the job. Who knows? An intoxicated Nick might let something slip and then all hell would break loose. Nick headed out the door into the temperate air and down Great Portland Street to the BBC studios sipping his drink and looking about at the pedestrians. He saw several men carrying pink envelopes and packages in a hurry to get to their destinations.

Bollocks.

Pushing through the outer door and waving to George, the security guard, Nick made a beeline for the elevator. Yeah, he should probably have taken the stairs but he just didn’t want to. To hell with that. So he had gained a few pounds since the breakup. What of it? He had been too thin drinking all those juices and fasting and working out. Yeah, that was it. He was almost convincing himself. What happened to the men who wanted a normal guy instead of the impossibly hard-muscled exercise fanatics? A little pudge never hurt anyone. Look at Harry with those little love handles. Men and women adored them and professed the desire to just “nibble” them. Okay, bad topic. He didn’t want to think about nibbling Harry anywhere right now, his jeans were too tight to be sporting a boner in the office. The elevator door opened and he stepped out into the warren of cubicles. Slurping the remains of his drink while walking to his desk, every person who passed him smiled in a knowing way. Narrowing his gaze suspiciously at the tenth person to smirk at him, he rounded the corner to his office.

On his desk was an enormous vase with at least three dozen red roses. What was this? Rarely was Nick shocked into silence but he stood mouth agape while his mind raced. Who? He noticed a card on the arrangement and plucked it off.

To: Nick Grimshaw

From: Someone who loves you.

Oh that was helpful. It was even typed so no clues from the handwriting. Were they from a fan? His mum? Alexa? He sniffed. Their perfume was filling his office. He buried his face in them and inhaled deeply. God he loved roses. Standing up straight he could not remove the smile from his lips.

Someone coughed behind him and he turned to see Annie Mac smiling at him.

“Check you out, lover! Who’re they from?”

Nick hesitated, an embarrassed heat rising to his cheeks.

“Don’t know.”

“Well, what’s the card say?”

“Says they’re from ‘someone who loves’ me,” he answered quietly.

“A secret admirer! Oh that’s the ticket. You’ll just have to do some detective work.”

Annie backed out of the doorway and Nick was alone once again. Who would have sent these to him? The mystery would have to wait, he had a show to get ready for. He sat at the desk and logged in to the computer. He checked the latest headlines and made some notes. E-mail was next and he skimmed through the 30 or so he had received since yesterday, aware of the constant stream of people past his office stopping to have a look at his flowers. He made a growly sort of noise under his breath and opened another message. He was typing a reply when someone knocked at his door. Looking up he saw a young man wearing a DoorDash jacket holding a McDonald’s bag.

“Are you Mr. Grimshaw?”

Nick cringed at the ‘mister’ but acknowledged that he was.

“I have this delivery for you. I’m supposed to tell you to check the bag for a note.”

Nick looked at the kid with confusion, but accepted the food. He rooted his wallet out and tipped the guy. Opening the bag he felt the heat from the fries. The kid must have hustled if the food was still hot. Next to the fries was a quarter pounder with cheese. He freaking loved quarter pounders. He hadn’t ordered this. Who had? Remembering the kid saying there was a note he looked deep into the bag. At the bottom there was a child’s t-rex skeleton valentine signed “Someone who loves you.” What the hell was going on? He smiled and munched on a few fries before digging into the burger. While eating he went down a mental list of who the mysterious person might be. The alarm on his mobile dinged and he clicked it off then began cleaning up the detritus from his meal. He picked up his daily file and his phone and headed to the studio. Fifteen minutes later he began “Hello everybody! Grimmy here. Happy Valentine’s day!”

At 5:45 when the afternoon Newsbeat began, Nick took a quick break. Heading to his office to get another bottle of water out of the small fridge there he found a wrapped package on his desk. The card said “From Someone who loves you.” He didn’t have time to open it but just shook his head in wonder and headed back to the studio. He had only a couple of minutes until he was back on the air for another hour.

“And that’s it for me everybody. See you on MONDAY!”

Nick hit the outro and took off his headphones as Annie Mac suited up for her show. They chatted for a few minutes and then Nick headed to his office to finish up and head out. Well, head home. He wasn’t going out. Biggest date night of the year and he didn’t have one. What he did have was three more wrapped gifts on his desk. He just stared at them as if they might explode. Oh Cripes. What if they were bombs? He edged toward the desk and took a closer look. Each was tagged with a typed “From Someone who Loves You.” He only debated for a moment before sitting down and pulling one over. Gently tearing the paper he unwrapped it to find a bottle of his favorite cologne. He smiled. He was almost out at home. This was perfect.

He was a little less timid opening the next one which contained a small package of Charbonnel et Walker truffles. Oh god they smelled good. He would wait until he got home to eat them, and he would eat them all. The next gift was a hammered copper tea kettle from the mid-1900s along with a sampling of teas from TWG. He heard himself coo over it. It was polished to a high sheen and he could not stop the smile that spread over his face. He opened the last package and let out a small whoop of delight. A gift certificate to the hot new restaurant HIDE was nestled in some glittery tissue paper.

He sat back and looked at his haul. All the gifts had to have been chosen just for him; his favorite tea, his favorite chocolate, an antique kettle for his collection. Someone took a great deal of time to make this day special for him. But who the hell? He finished his ruminating and packed up his gifts then headed out of the office. Harry was coming over for pizza and a movie and he didn’t want to be late.

Nick had just finished dressing after his shower when he heard the door buzzer. Harry must have forgotten his key again. He opened the door to see his friend carrying a bottle of wine, a pizza box and a bouquet of bright flowers. Nick took the wine and flowers and Harry kissed his cheek as he passed on his way to the kitchen. After greeting Pig and Stinky properly, he noticed the roses.

“Nice flowers. Who are they from?” Harry asked.

“Don’t know.”

“What do you mean?”

“The card says from ‘someone who loves you’.”

“That’s strange. You have no idea?”

“No and that’s not the half of it. There were gifts and even a quarter pounder.”

“Woah. You must have a fan,” Harry said with his dimples making an appearance.

“Yeah. Proof that there’s at least one,” Nick smiled ruefully.

They moved to the lounge and put the pizza on the table before loading the DVD in the player.

“Oh not this one again. Seriously, we’ve seen this at least a dozen times.”

“Nicholas, you cannot see “The Notebook” too many times. Besides, it’s perfect for the day—a lifelong love affair.”

“God, you are such a romantic.”

Harry gave him a grin. “Shut up and pour the wine.”

Nick’s mind began to wander about halfway through the movie. Harry was stretched out next to him watching with rapt attention, his lips moving along with the words. Nick rolled his eyes. He turned his attention to his mysterious gift giver. He ran down the list of possible people, dismissing each one. He was so engrossed in his mystery, he didn’t realize that the movie had been paused. Harry had sat up and was looking at him.

“What?”

“You aren’t watching. Again.”

“I’m trying to figure out who sent all this stuff to me.”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“No, not to me.”

“So you have spent the day thinking of all the people who love you.”

“I guess…I guess I have. Yes,” Nick answered thoughtfully.

Harry was staring at him with those intense green eyes. Nick almost got lost in the depths.

“Well then good. Though I am a bit disappointed that you didn’t immediately know it was me.”

Nick felt a rush of adrenaline and, what was that? Hope. Oh god it was hope. He just stared at Harry, mouth agape. Harry reached his hand up and Nick expected him to push his chin up and close his lips but instead he caressed his cheek. Before Nick could react, Harry kissed him. It was a sweet, slow kiss. He pulled back and looked at Nick’s surprised expression. With a smile, he leaned in again and kissed him more thoroughly. Nick reveled in the taste of him, it was addictive. Nick leaned back as Harry continued his conquest of his mouth. Harry began kissing along his jaw, soft and tender.

Nick groaned as Harry paused to unbutton his shirt.

“Who else knows about you and the tea kettles? Hmm?” Harry asked as he opened the silk exposing his skin. Harry’s tongue found the pulse in his neck and sucked lightly before moving down to his nipples. Nick felt an almost electric shock run through his body and coalesce in his cock. He was light headed, probably from the blood rushing to his genitals. Harry kept toying with his nips until Nick was squirming with desire.

“You should have guessed me first. Because I love you.”

Harry ran his tongue around Nick’s navel and headed lower. Nick wrapped his fingers in those chocolate curls as the delicious arousal turned his bones to jelly. His happy trail provided a path that Harry obligingly followed, skin and muscles clenching as he moved.

Harry paused to unbutton Nick’s jeans, sliding his finger along the waistline on his now hypersensitive skin.

“I love you Nick Grimshaw. I always have,” Harry said, making eye contact. “I am not quite ready to settle down. Not just yet. But when I am, it’s you.”

Nick blinked in surprise. He almost pinched himself. Harry. He had loved him from the first. The vivacious teen with his sweet and naughty demeanor. The beautiful boy who was now the beautiful man in front of him. His hands were shaking.

“I plan to marry you. To adopt 4 or 5 kids with you. To grow old with you.”

Harry wiped a tear from Nick’s cheek and kissed him again.

“Now, let me love you silly goose.”

Harry had Nick’s jeans unzipped and he lifted his hips so that Harry could pull them down. Harry smiled and licked his lips at the bulge in Nick’s boxers. Nick shivered in anticipation. Harry, the tease that he was, took his time licking and running his fingers over the fabric barely containing Nick’s erection. Hooking his index fingers under the elastic, Harry lifted it over and pulled it down. Nick’s cock sprang free and slapped lightly against his abdomen. That was all the encouragement Harry needed. He went to work, sucking and licking and fingering until Nick was panting. The sight of those soft pink lips wrapped around him again…it had been so long. Harry slid his tongue under the foreskin and circled the head, collecting all the salty liquid oozing from the tip. When Harry took him all into his mouth and swallowed around him Nick began to babble and buck his hips.

Harry popped off and grinned at him as his fingers swirled Nick’s balls on their way lower, to massage the opening. Nick clenched and groaned. Harry intensified his massaging and resumed his oral attack. Pushing a finger slowly inside caused Nick to groan and close his eyes. Two fingers and a deep throat and Nick shouted as he came. Harry swallowed the evidence and eased his fingers out as Nick flinched at the feeling on his sensitive flesh.

Harry slid back up Nick’s body and kissed him.

Nick whispered “I love you so much.”

Harry grinned and kissed him again. “As I love you.”

A/N: It’s never too late for romance.

#gryles #valentine #my writing

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dancing-deacon · 6 years

Text

Let Me Be Your Lover Boy(Part 7)

BoRhap!Roger Taylor x Reader

Summary: When an undesirable meeting with Roger Taylor knocks you off your feet, the drummer will do anything to get you to fall for him.

(A/N) SORRY FOR THE LONG WAIT! I’m not exactly sure how to feel about this chapter tbh I wasn’t really inspired at all and have had horrible writers block. I’m planning on the next chapter being the end so we almost there haha. Here’s to hoping my writer’s block goes away.

Warnings: swearing, references to sex

Get Caught Up! Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Masterlist

“She’s never late.” Deaky states, stomach growling at the banana nut muffin in front of him, waiting to be digested. “Should we go see if she’s awake? We did get back pretty late last night.”

Brian puts down his tea cup and scoots forward on his chair, about to push off to go get you from your room. But Freddie launches up before him, hand on his chest to hold him down.

“I’ll go get her.” He says enthusiastically. He was putting up a front, he heard it all the night before, for his room was next door to yours. He barely slept from hearing yours and Roger’s moans. Knowing Roger for years, Freddie has overheard his conquests on tours more than not. But this time, it sounded different. He couldn’t place it in his mind.

Freddie felt the other side of the wall pound with every shake of the bed. Inches separating you from the singer. This means he also heard the argument. The cries from deep in your throat as you rejected Roger, breaking his heart. Freddie can recall the shake of the room with the powerful slam of the door, followed by heavy quick footsteps trailing down the hall, far away from the room he knew Roger was supposed to be occupying.

For hours after, all Freddie could hear from his bed was your muffled cries, hours of cries. Each yell of bastard, asshole, dickhead coming from deep in your soul. It wasn’t his place to intrude at the time, but you not showing up for breakfast as you always do was the final straw.

Without another word to Brian or John, he exits the dining room in a haste, ready to finally confront you about Roger.

Frantic knocking on the door jolts your eyes open. Your eyelids peel apart, crust poking the corners. Your back screams in pain as you struggle to sit up from the floor, where you had crumpled down a few hours ago knees pinned to your chest when you couldn’t manage to hold yourself up anymore. Flashes of the argument have been repeating in your mind all night.

Minutes after Roger stormed out of your room, you regretted every word out of your mouth. The truth is, you don’t know what you want. You didn’t know during the fight, all that was coming out of your mouth was panicked words, afraid of the world. Afraid of someone growing close to you in any way. You haven’t had a group of people you’ve grown so close to so fast, the fear of losing that was deafening in your head at that moment. Roger didn’t understand that though, not that you explained it well at all.

The knocking didn’t stop. You crouch up onto your knees, aching as you make your way onto your feet, using your bed as support. Each knock from the other side of the door throws your mind back, the steady bumping of your bed against your wall as you rode Roger, taking him in fully. Faster and faster until you screamed his name in ecstasy. Soon after, screaming his name in anger.

You shuffle your feet along the carpet, stepping on your array of crumpled tissues that stick to your feet, not bothering to remove them. Without looking through the peephole, you crack the door open. Before you even peak around the door, a hand grasps the edge, pushing it far open.

Freddie stands there, a concerned look on his face. His mind void of anything but you, standing in front of him, hunched over, arms wrapped around your stomach, grasping your shirt for dear life. Freddie pulls you into his arms upon peering at your puffy raw face. “Darling, tell me everything.”

You break into a dry sob, your body shakes in Freddie’s arms, which wrap around your shoulders even harder. He strokes your matted hair with his hand, shushing you gently. No tears left your eyes, so you stand there, gasping for breaths. Listening to Freddie’s hushes and feeling his breathing you attempt to match it.

“I fucked up.” Is all you can choke out, between deep gasps for breaths.

“If I’m being honest, I think you both fucked up.” Freddie admits. You knew he was right.

You move your hands to Freddie’s chest, pushing off him to stand on your own two feet. “What?”

“I heard everything.” He nods his head to the wall your bed rests against. “Thin walls.” He gives a small smile, letting you know you can be open with him. He won’t leave your side.

Stepping to the side you sit yourself onto the bed, sheets still thrown about from your sex with Roger. Freddie immediately follows suit, placing his hand on top of yours on your lap.

“I don’t want to lose you…or Brian or Deaks.” You say quietly, staring at your toes, “or my job, or my privacy.” Each phrase comes out quicker and louder.

“Woah, woah, slow down, dear.” Freddie squeezes your hand. “Do you really think you’d lose any of that with Roger?”

You shrug your shoulders, unknowing if your beliefs are true or if your mind is thinking in overdrive.

Freddie breaks the silence, whispering soulfully, “He would never allow that. We would never allow that.” Freddie thinks for a moment, you turn to him, waiting for more consolation. His deep brown eyes stare into yours and he brings his face close, “Roger wants the world for you, he would do anything to make you comfortable.”

“I thought this was all a big secret.” You say, giving a small laugh at the ridiculous thought.

Freddie gives a hearty laugh, bringing his arm around your shoulders and squeezing you in close. “(Y/N), he has been drooling over you since he laid eyes on you in that alley. I’m surprised you fell for the bastard yourself,” he jokes.

“It was a mistake, I shouldn’t have jeopardized what I have with the band.” You shake your head in frustration.

“I know you probably don’t want my opinion but I’m going to say it anyway. You didn’t. If you want to screw Roger go ahead. It won’t change our feelings towards you. Hell, it’ll even make Roger happy.” He pauses. “You know, he’s changed since you’ve been around. Good change.” He adds.

You nod your head, taking to heart what Freddie said. “Freddie, I think I need to stay here and think today, is that alright?” You don’t have many plans today except some outing with the band, but you think seeing Roger this soon will only end badly. You need time to figure out what you want, how you feel, and what to say to him.

“Of course. I will check up on you later.” Freddie kisses your temple and heads towards the door. Glancing to the side he noticed your jacket, the hole uncovered and much larger than before. Freddie turns back to you, “I’ll fix that when we get home, with a color that doesn’t remind you of Roger this time.”

Shaking your head in disbelief with a small smile, he bloody knew the entire time.

---

Moments after Freddie left the room in a hast, Deaky reaches out for his muffin, taking a large bite out of it. Brian rolls his eyes at his actions.

“They’ll be a while he has to go all the way upstairs and I’m starving!” Deaky defends, small bits of the muffin falling from his lips and onto his pants.

Brian shrugs and goes to grab one as well but is interrupted by the harsh opening of the door. Brian and John snap their necks to see Roger, heavy stepping and wobbling towards them, an empty stare on his face. They notice his eyes, dark and heavy, clear signs he hadn’t slept nor had a good night.

“What the hell happened to you?” Brian asks, more joking than concerned, ready for a crazy story.

“Shut the hell up.” Roger spits out, eyes black as he stared daggers at Brian, who sat back, tight lipped and embarrassed.

Roger plops down onto the chair across from them, laying back arms across his chest, staring at the ceiling. John leans forward, concerned. “Roger, what happened after the concert last night?” His voice anxious.

Roger lets out a large exhale, staying silent otherwise.

Brian pipes up again. “Roger, we know something isn’t alright, we aren’t idiots.”

“I am though,” Roger yells out, bringing his hands up to his face. “I fucked up, big time.”

Deaky and Brian share a look, scooching to the edge of their seats. Leaning in to hear about Roger’s mistakes, as he usually excels at executing his plans.

Roger sits forward to match them, staring at the ground. “I got with (Y/N) last night before the concert.” He speaks, interrupted by John’s comment of

“That’s why your shirt was miraculously gone in a short time.” He teases, knowing full well it was noticed.

Brian chimes in with more teasing, “Yeah and the bloody enormous grin on his face. That and his tempo was off half the time.”

Roger just shakes his head, heart too heavy to join in on the banter. “Anyways…” he says a little annoyed, “It happened again last night.” He takes a long pause, “but after…I said I wanted to tell you all and for her to be mine. She didn’t take it well.” Roger racks his brain of the reasons you gave him, none of them being good enough excuses to him.

“Rog, I’m sorry.” John states sympathetically.

“Maybe she was tired and didn’t mean it,” Brian tries to reason. “I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”

Roger stares up from the floor finally and into the concerned and caring faces of his bandmates.

Brian continues, “The night you met, you passed out in the van. Even though she was pissed off at you, she gawked at you in the van, it was like she saw a freaking god.” Roger lets out a small smile, thinking about how he wanted to worship you, rather than you him.

Deaky chimes in immediately after Brian, “or the dopey in love look on her face when she sniffed those flowers you got her.”

Brian gives another point, “The way she hugged you after the show. We all saw it. She looked like she was on a cloud, the smile she had was unlike I’ve seen before, from anyone. Hell, even from John’s wife!”

“Hey!” Deaky grunts. Roger gives a small smile, thinking about your beautiful face and the particular way your lips curled up when he walked into the room. Or the subtle eye roll you’d do at any of his poorly times jokes. Or your eyes gleaming and watching into his so intently any time he got lost in talking about music.

“Give her a chance to cool off. An initial reaction isn’t always the reaction they mean. It’s a panic, “Brian reasons.

Roger nods his head. “Will you guys help me with showing her how much I love her?” Roger asks quietly, thinking he has never said his feelings out loud before.

John and Brian’s mouth grows into an extra-large smile, “If it’s love then of course we will.”

Roger leans back again, rubbing his eyes hard with the palms of his hands. His brain starts running, knowing the next time he will see you, he will either be greeted one of two ways, with love or with hate.

Taglist @emmadarling20 @sunnnymercury @roger-taylor-stole-my-heart @blissfully-queen @anita-e-taylor @mrs-rogertaylor @emma-worthington @jennycidesstuff @rogerswig @roger-taylor-owns-my-wigg @perriwiinkle

#ben hardy #roger taylor #ben hardy!roger taylor #borhap!roger taylor #roger taylor x reader #borhap #bohemian rhapsody #queen #queen band #queen fic #borhap!roger taylor x reader

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invaderhogtwopointohno · 6 years

Text

Row F, Seat 3

For @ettomaru for Kacchako Secret Santa.

Part 2 of 5

Read at AO3 here.

-----

Chapter Two

So, Do You Come Here Often?

The flight was going to be a long one considering the fact that Ochako was now sitting between two people, one of them ready to explode at any moment. Bakugou had sat down in a huff and not looked at her. On the other side of her was a sweet old woman who kept offering everyone on the plane candy. Then it came time for takeoff and Ochako had to think about all of the good things in her life. The take off was the worst part of the journey. The plane was so loud and shook and she was always terrified.

She was gripping her seat and checking her seat belt numerous times. Her nervousness made Katuski look up.

“What the fuck are you doing? Sit still,” he barked and she looked at him. She was a little more pink then usual he turned in his seat to face her. “Do you get airsick?”

Air sick. Car sick. Boat sick. Ochako got everything sick. She had always had a weak stomach. The only form of transportation she found to be the easiest to handle was a bicycle.

“Maybe just a little,” she said, looking at the manual for what would happen if the plane crashed in the ocean. That wasn’t helping her stomach at all.

“I’m guessing you don’t fly much,” he said, though he eased up on his attitude just slightly.

“Just to see my parents on the holidays. They came to see me on Thanksgiving but I had to fly out to see them this week,” she said, thinking about how she had spent the entire flight there throwing up in a paper bag and wishing she were dead.

“Don’t you fucking dare throw up on me, Angel Face,” he said and grabbed the bags in front of him and smacked them on her tray. The old woman made a comment about the lovely weather they were having and Ochako prepared herself for the take off. It was going to be a long two-hour flight, she could tell. Bakugou was in a mood and she was feeling ready to heave her guts.

“Alright, Ladies and Gentlemen- this is Captain Hawks, we are third in line for take off and we are going to be up in the air in no time. My co-pilot Tokoyami, is going to cover our procedures for the flight!”

Ochako was half-listening, too nervous and making herself feel sick already by just sitting there. She was going to pass out, she knew it.

“Hey, Angel Face,” Bakugou said, and shoved her manual in front of her, “Pay fucking attention.”

She looked up to see that they were now showing the part about emergency exits and she quickly looked between the flight attendants and the manual. They finished and proceeded around to get everyone ready for their final flight check.

Ochako laid her head back against the rest and closed her eyes, trying to imagine being on solid ground.

“Stop being such a big baby,” Katsuki barked, and she glared at him. “You didn’t die before, you’re not dying now. So calm the fuck down, you’re making me mad.”

“You mad?” she repeated, letting out a huff. “I am the one who has to put up you with you! You were so loud and annoying last night and so rude to everyone this morning- I can’t believe that you didn’t just go sit with the captain and the co-pilot and tell them how to fly the damn plane!”

“I do know how to fly, by the way,” he snapped back and then they were in a full-on fight in the middle of flight check. The engines started to roar loudly and Katsuki looked quickly out of the window. Ochako had not even noticed. She was so busy yelling at him that she didn’t realize that they were taking off.

“I bet you’re one of those guys who are all like “Oh I am so much more handsome than you, and better than you and clearly know everything, so you should pay attention to me while I yell” types.”

“You think so, huh?” he asked, and gave her a smirk for the first time since she met him.

“What?”

“You just said that I was handsome. Which is true.”

“N-No I didn’t!” she spat back, horrified he would ever make such an accusation.

“You did,” he said with a shrug and she scoffed.

“I said that you think that you’re all that, but you’re not and-”

She stopped as a wave of neausea overtook her and she grabbed the bag in front of her, throwing up inside. Katsuki sighed and reached out a warm hand, patting her back gently.

“I guess you forgot we were taking off,” he said and she sighed a little, using a tissue offered by the sweet woman next to her. She was a nurse and offered Ochako some Dramamine.

“Are you alright?” the flight attendant asked, looking concerned as they were in the air.

“She’s fine, she just can’t stand flying,” Katuski said and Ochako threw up in another bag, shaking her head. God this was the worst.

----

“So what do you do for a living?”

After a trip to the restroom and some cold water, Ochako felt a little better and returned to her seat. The nice sweet old nurse had almost instantly started going from row to row offering candy and medical advice. So she was left to make small talk with the annoying explosive blonde.

“I work for Ground Zero,” he said, pulling out his laptop. She was annoyed that it instantly impressed her. Ground Zero was a major magazine that handled incredibly important topics and working for that magazine meant that you were one of the best.

“Are you a writer?”

“I am an editor,” he clarified, and she was again unfortunately impressed. After a long pause she realized that he wasn’t going to ask her the same question.

“Well, I am in construction, architect.”

He made a noise and she assumed that was an “ah right sure” kind of noise. She got that a lot when she was telling people that she was an architect. There weren’t a lot of female architects so of course she had her fair share of people thinking that she was just a glorified assistant or something.

“I am designing my second building now,” she said with pride and he nodded.

“Second building.”

“Yeah, well… I am starting out. I worked for a boring architecture firm that built condos, you know, to get started- and that place was a snooze-fest. So I learned what I could while I was there and now I am out on my own. My roommates and I are working on our own company.”

“What was your first building?” he asked, looking at her. She smiled and proudly pulled out her phone, showing a picture of a small taco stand.

“Ta Da!!!”

“It’s… efficient.”

“Yeah, well, gotta start somewhere,” she said, putting her phone away and he looked at his laptop.

“My first piece for Ground Zero was about the importance of flossing- so yeah, I get it.”

She smiled a little, knowing that he wasn’t the type to give random comfort.

“What are you working on now?”

“Article about the tradition of New Year’s around the world. There is a big party at the magazine on New Year’s Eve, I have to cover it, my writer is out of town for Christmas.”

“That’ll be nice. I don’t have any plans for New Years, usually I am just sitting at home with my friends, we usually do a house party, but this year they are visiting family through New Years so it’s just me.”

They fell into a comfortable silence and Katsuki started typing on his computer, working on his article. Ochako found herself enjoying a game on her phone and was feeling a lot better.

After about thirty minutes of quiet, Ochako looked over to see that Katsuki had moved on to photos and was looking through them.

“For your article?” she asked and he muttered a sound that sounded like an affirmative.

There were several ones with fireworks and people talking and laughing. She spotted one where two people were pointing at the stars together.

“That’s a nice one,” she said, and he looked at her.

“A little cliché- don’t you think?” he asked and she shrugged.

“I guess… but nothing like standing on the roof of a building at night and looking at the stars for a little while. At least… that’s what I think...”

She went back to her phone.

----

The flight lasted another hour and the two of them continued to be silent, the comfort coming back almost instantly, and they landed safely in the airport, fresh snow on the ground outside. They went to disembark and the flight attendants all gave Ochako a hug and hoped that she felt better soon. She had managed to only throw up one more time on the rest of the flight during the descent and they were all worried about her.

When she reached the gates and once again met solid ground, Ochako was saved.

“I survived,” she muttered to herself and Katsuki scoffed behind her.

“Dramatic much? You weren’t going to die,” he said and she shook her head.

“I could have died.”

They quickly made their way through the plane and to the gates, finding their way through the mass of people. Katsuki was slightly taller than her so she stuck close behind.

At one point she had to reach out and grab his jacket to stay close. And much to her surprise he didn’t shake her off and didn’t seem bothered by it.

They made it through the throng of people and were heading towards where they could pick up their luggage.

“Which one is yours?” he asked as they reached the carousel.

“That one,” she said, pointing to a black suitcase with a bright pink tag on it. He grunted and reached out, easily lifting it up and over and setting it in front of her. She looked up at him and smiled.

“Thank you!”

He stared at her.

“Whatever,” he said, turning away and grabbing his own dufflebag.

She smiled and waited for him. Then her phone started vibrating. She was waiting for Deku to come and pick her up, he had already texted saying that he was stuck at work and was going to be late about thirty minutes earlier when she was still on the plane. He was just leaving their office now and was on his way.

“Uh, are you heading out?” she asked.

“Not for another hour, I am waiting for someone,” Katsuki said, checking his phone. Ochako suddenly felt dumb. Of course he was in some kind of a relationship- he was secretly pretty great.

“Oh, I see,” she said, and he looked up at her.

“My friend Kirishima is coming to get me, I have to finish my article,” he said, though he didn’t know why he was making weird excuses for himself. He didn’t like her thinking the wrong thing. And by the way she instantly got happy again, he had a feeling that she’d misunderstood him.

“D-Do you want to wait together?” she offered and he looked down, getting embarrassed.

“Uh… sure… I am not in a hurry,” he muttered and she grinned.

---

A/N: I feel like Ochako would not have a whole lot of fun on planes.

#kss18 #kacchakosecretsanta18 #kacchako #ochako uraraka #katsuki bakugou #airport #christmas #trapped #they are adorable okay

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spidergwenstefani · 6 years

Text

Holy Dimensional Gateway, Batman! | 1/?

oh fuck look out cause I’m about to attempt a multichapter fic and my track record with finishing those has been um. not great.

but here’s to new beginnings! I couldn’t justify cutting my idea of a plot for this down enough to be a oneshot so we’ll see how this goes.

In which Clint gets dragged through a hole in space and lands in a universe that’s dark, violent, and… not entirely unfamiliar. It’s populated with a whole kooky cast of masked vigilantes, which sucks because Clint just wants to get home. Bucky just wants to stop making dumbass decisions, like diving into a wormhole to save his crush.

TW: guns, the writer’s own open hostilities towards the DC universe

Rated: T?

The future has a way of surprising you, Bucky thinks as he stares out into the blackness of space. He allows himself a small smile that it’s Steve’s voice saying the words in his head, because Bucky was doing a little more than sleeping during the seventy year gap. It took Steve a while to realize that Bucky wouldn’t be bamboozled by the fucking coffee machine, that the years in between are just blood-splattered snapshots in his mind, but yeah, Steve, he noticed cassette tapes.

Still, his memories from HYDRA are patchy at best, and Bucky doubts that watching the moon landing on TV would have come anywhere close to preparing him for actually being up among the stars, drifting through the void in an impossibly thin Stark-branded prototype space suit. It’s awesome, in the oldest sense of the word. It’s terrifying, only a few layers of metal between him and imminent death, but it’s a kind of terrifying that envelops you like a soft blanket and almost starts to feel safe.

“I hate space,” Clint grunts out next to him through gritted teeth. Bucky turns enough in his harness to watch Clint, eyes shut tight and knuckles white against the edge of his seat, and maybe the siren song of the cold expanse has made him a little poetic, but he thinks there’s some kind of a simile there. Clint’s like space a little bit. Ever-present, easy to get lost in. Terrifying, but only because he makes Bucky feel so safe. Beautiful.

“God, can you get space-sick? I don’t want to know what happens if I puke in zero-g.”

Alright, so it’s not a perfect metaphor.

“Robin Hood, if you puke in my ship I’m chucking you out the airlock,” Tony calls from the pilot’s seat. Clint clenches his jaw and groans.

“Why am I here? Nobody even knows how arrows work in space. I’m not enhanced. I’m soft. One wrong hit and I get vacuumed out of this thing and liquified into meat jelly.”

“Obviously we brought you for morale,” Steve answers from his seat next to Tony.

“And the scientific inaccuracies. It adds charm. Like we’re in a movie,” Tony contributes. “By the way, I’m not even going to touch all the problems with what you’ve just said, but I am absolutely having JARVIS replay them for Bruce when we get back.”

“Also, the SHIELD station has artificial gravity, so arrows will work just fine,” Steve says, pointing through the disturbingly large windows to the giant donut they’re steadily approaching. The station is big and white, glowing bright against the pitch black.

“Putting me in a giant spinning loop is not gonna solve the problem, Cap. I do my best work where the air isn’t canned.”

Bucky wishes the harnesses weren’t so restrictive. He’d give Clint a reassuring shoulder bump, maybe nudge him with an elbow like he does when their eyes catch before a big mission. But the way Stark has them strapped in means it’s mostly just forearms that are free, and even if Clint has been returning his flirting a little more lately, he doubts a pat on the inner thigh is particularly welcome right now.

“Why isn’t Thor on this mission? Dimensional portals are totally his thing, right?” Clint lets his head thump back against the seat, eyes still tightly shut. Bucky finds his gaze drawn to the lines of his neck.

“Thor’s fighting style isn’t very… containable,” Steve says. “We don’t want to cause too much damage.”

“You mean we don’t want to punch a death-hole in the tissue paper hell-donut,” Clint whines. “Only SHIELD would build a research station around a newly discovered dimensional portal without checking to see if anything could come out of it. This is my last mission. I’m going to fucking retire. Go live on a farm or something. Somewhere with a lot of ground.”

“You say that every other mission,” Bucky says, not bothering to hide the smile in his voice. Clint actually cracks his eyes open at that, giving Bucky a half-hearted glare.

“The portal was stable when they built the station,” Tony says, maneuvering them around to the docking bay and flipping a dizzying amount of switches as the ship glides into place. “It’s only recently that things have started coming out. My theory is that the connection to the other side has frayed. It’s not a door that only opens to one room anymore.”

“Awesome,” Clint says weakly, and the ship settles into the port with a mechanical thunk.

>>==========>

The space station isn’t nearly as cool as the space ship, Bucky decides. There’s no windows, and Clint’s kind of right about the artificial gravity being disconcerting. He’s not even upset when an alarm goes off, painting the cold plastic walls a startling red and making them skip the grand tour. The SHIELD astronaut that helped them out of the docking bay seems a little concerned, however. She jogs ahead of them, unholstering some kind of stun baton, which must be the only SHIELD weapon trusted in a place like this. Bucky would be concerned too, having to face the possible horrors of the universe with something that’s barely a step up from a taser. It had been a hell of a time for him to convince Steve and Tony to allow him a sniper rifle, conceding that he wouldn’t use it unless he ended up on the wrong side of the gateway.

“We’ve had things coming through more and more often,” she says as they near a sealed door, warnings plastered across it in glossy red. “There was almost four months between the first visitors and the second. Now it’s every few weeks. Our last batch was only six days ago.”

“Are there any similarities between the creatures? Patterns, maybe?” Tony asks, with what Bucky thinks is too much excitement. At least he closes the helmet on his suit, not too starry-eyed with the prospect of alien lifeforms to remember the situation at hand.

“Not exactly, although the ones that breathe oxygen best seem to come through in groups. Most of them end up asphyxiating before they can do too much damage. That’s what the last ones did.”

“So they come in clusters that breathe similar atmospheres?” Tony hasn’t reduced himself to scientific babble yet, although Bucky can sense he’s close. “It might be opening up to a few gateways on each planet. Maybe the link up is affected by gravitational pull, or solar radiation.” Yep, there it is.

The astronaut keys in a code, stun baton held at the ready as the doors slide open.

“What the hell?” Bucky says, ducking as a thick vine immediately whips toward them. He blocks it with his left arm on autopilot, and Clint pins the thickest part of it to the doorway with a quick shot. Their eyes meet and Bucky manages a nod of thanks before another one of the freaky vine tendrils slithering out of the dimensional gateway tries to sweep his feet out from under him.

The gateway itself is kind of hard to look at, like it doesn’t interact with light the way a solid object should. There’s definitely edges, although Bucky doubts he could point them out if asked, and it only seems to open on one side, letting the vine monster tentacles straight out into the center of the room.

Tony keeps his repulsor blasts to a minimum, waiting until he’s got a vine closed in his hand to let one loose, and Steve does more hacking with his shield than throwing. They make short work of the thing, considering none of them know what the hell it is. The floor is littered with gently smoking, slightly wriggling vine chunks by the time the thing gives up, if it’s sentient enough to understand surrender. The rest of the vines slither back into the void, and as Bucky watches, the not-quite-edges seem to fold in on themselves, shrinking down to a pinprick of black before shooting back out into the giant circular portal it was moments ago, this time sans plant-tentacles.

“Cool. We’re done with space. Let’s go home,” Clint says, rubbing his wrist where the woody bark of a vine seems to have scraped it. Tony ignores him, circling the gateway like a cat presented with a new toy.

“That’s fascinating. This side of the gateway isn’t static. It’s like a whole new portal that’s just opened up in the same spot.”

“Yeah, fascinating. Let’s go back to Earth and tell some scientists all about it,” Clint says, the hope dying from his voice as Tony reaches cautiously for the edges of the gateway.

“Not so fast, Legolas. We don’t leave until the portal is closed for good, and we’ve still got about a million tests to run on this thing before I’ll even begin to know how to do that.”

“I hate space,” Clint says petulantly, kicking at a particularly large coil of slightly spasming vine.

Bucky barely has time to blink before the vine grabs a hold of Clint’s leg, the severed end shooting straight for the gateway and pulling Clint along with it.

“Fuck,” Clint manages, and Bucky lunges for him, almost getting a grip on Clint’s forearm before he slips away, him and the vine sucked into the giant gap in space without so much as a ripple.

“Clint,” Bucky shouts, the sound of it not reaching his ears. He moves automatically, barely registering Steve’s warnings, every noise suddenly far away, like he’s under water. He’s jumped feet-first into the gateway before he even has time to think.

>>==========>

Clint hates space.

It comes with an unease that settles into the very bones of him, makes him feel like he’s off balance at his innermost core, farther out than he was ever meant to go. Artificial gravity doesn’t do much to help. He still feels the wrongness with senses he never knew he had.

So when he comes out the other side of the doorway, the fact that he’s no longer in space registers before anything else. The tug of real, Earth-strength gravity settles his nerves before he’s even noticed that he’s too high up in the atmosphere to see anything but stormy grey clouds, and falling like a stone.

Clint’s never been inside a cloud before, but the charm wears off quick as the puffs of foggy grey drench him to his core on his way down. At least he’s still got his bow in his hand, and his quiver on his back. He gives the alien vine around his ankle an angry kick, but the thing already relaxed its hold the moment they came out the other side, and it slithers off more than willingly, plummeting out of sight.

Then suddenly the clouds are gone, and a rickety roof is rushing up to meet Clint, looking like some kind of dilapidated train that got it’s directions all turned around. Clint has time to turn shoulder-first against the oncoming building, and almost enough time to wonder what it says about his life that falling through a roof is a welcome experience after the violent emptiness of space.

The rooftop splinters immediately on impact, as does the attic floor, and the next floor, too. He plummets into some kind of dusty couch with enough impact to snap the thing, but the floorboards beneath hold fast. Some part of Clint’s brain manages to register that the building looks decrepit and abandoned, enough that he’s surprised to see about six guns pointed at his face when the dust clears.

“Who the fuck are you?” A voice spits out, and Clint follows the barrel of the gun directly in front of his nose to find the speaker. The guy is human, at least by every way Clint knows to check, and his friends are too. He’s not dressed exactly like a 1930’s gangster, but he’s sure dressed like he grew up admiring them. He’s got a nasty sneer and an accent that’s so deep New York, Clint might laugh if he hadn’t just had all the wind knocked out of him. He wraps his fingers tighter around his bow, which, through a combination of being cradled protectively during the fall and being made out of a fucking adamantium alloy, seems to have survived unscathed.

“Woah,” he manages to cough out through the dust. “You look like an asshole.”

The guy shifts his weight, finger tightening on the trigger, but Clint’s already rolled off the former couch and pinned one of the other goon’s wrists to the wall by the time Asshole manages to get a round off into the couch cushions. The goose feathers that erupt from the pillows do add a nice ambiance to the fight, though, and Clint takes down two more guys while Asshole chokes on one of them. One of the gangsters gets a shot out, putting a few holes in the drywall before Clint gets him through the shoulder. He knocks the fifth guy out with a blow to the head, just in time to shoot the gun out of Asshole’s hand and pin it to the far wall. Asshole lunges for him, but ends up tripping over a floorboard Clint must have brought with him. He goes down hard, and Clint plants his boot on Asshole’s chest, drawing an arrow and letting the tip hover directly over his forehead. Asshole almost goes cross-eyed trying to look at it.

“Are you Green fucking Arrow?”

“Do I look like Green Fucking Arrow?” Clint spits out, going out on a limb and guessing Green Fucking Arrow’s signature color isn’t purple.

“Who do you work for? Penguin? Scarecrow? Bats?”

Clint weighs his options, because he’s getting the impending sense that he’s not in Kansas anymore, and this guy might have some information on what kind of gritty noir universe he’s crashed into. On the other hand, he can’t even begin to parse through the words that just came out of Asshole’s mouth, and he’s starting to feel a post-space-travel headache coming on. Maybe he can look for answers later. After a nap.

He only manages to to lower his bow by a fraction of an inch before someone else makes the call for him. Something heavy hits Clint in the back of the head, hard, and the whole world crumbles into darkness.

>>==========>

Clint wakes up to a blinding spotlight shining directly into his eyes. His arms are strapped down to something that feels like a chair, and the way his aids are picking up on sounds tells him that the background noises are off here. Too echoey, maybe.

His eyes adjust slowly, and he can’t see far past the column of light trained on him, but wherever he is seems cavernous. The air is damp and cold, and Clint swears the shadows up above look like stalactites. Or stalagmites. He’s never figured out which is which. His mouth feels like sandpaper, and he’s got a headache that feels more like it’s brought on by a concussion than space travel. A true connoisseur like him can tell the difference.

There’s movement on the edge of his vision, and Clint manages to follow the shape of a shadow, lurking just on the edges of the darkness. His aids don’t do so great with low noises, but Clint’s pretty sure the thing isn’t making any sound as it glides across the cave floor.

“Who are you?” a voice echoes out, low and fucking chilling. It makes Clint’s throat hurt just to listen to it. It sounds demonic, like the shadow’s been gargling glass shards instead of listerine. Fuck, it sounds like Thor with the flu.

“Nobody important,” Clint says, and his own voice doesn’t sound too great either. He’d kill for a glass of water right now. It might come to that. The shadow doesn’t seem like it’d be easily swayed by asking nicely. “Who are you?”

“You don’t know who I am?” the shadow growls.

“I don’t know if you were there, but I fell from the sky a little bit,” Clint says. “I’m not from around here.”

“I am darkness,” the shadow says, voice rumbling through the cave in a way that Clint thinks might be ominous if it weren’t filtered into static by his hearing aids. “I am the night.”

“Yeah, and I’m clearly from another fucking universe, so if you’re trying to intimidate me you’re going to have to add more context.”

He feels the shadow approach more than sees, and Clint thanks whatever gods rule over this grimdark universe that Natasha isn’t here to see the shiver that runs down his spine as a figure materializes out of the blackness.

“I’m Batman,” it says, and even with the gravelly voice fuzzed to shit through his hearing aids, Clint gets the sense that this should be all the context he needs. Batman is- well Batman’s kind of a nightmare. His costume is all shadows and odd edges and he seems to shift between phantom and solid even as Clint watches him step further into the light, although that might just be his concussion settling in. The whole outfit sparks a memory through his haze of disorientation. It looks like the joke costume Bucky talked Steve into submitting when the Avengers PR team was pushing for a Winter Soldier rebranding. One look at the nightmare grimace mask and tattered cape and the costume department had clammed right up, although Steve wasn’t too happy about the extra therapy hours they had enforced after seeing such a dark glimpse into the psyche of Captain America.

“You don’t seem impressed,” Batman rumbles, looming in closer. Clint realizes he’s grinning like some kind of psycho, and shoves the memory back down. Probably better not to piss off some kind of demonic creature within a day of entering it’s universe.

“No, sorry, you’re very impressive. I was just thinking of something else. You remind me of someone.”

That… actually seems to throw Batman off. He looms backwards, and Clint’s mind clears enough to realize that he’s less demon-cloaked-in-shadow and more human-cloaked-in-cape.

“What are you doing in Gotham?” Batman rumbles, and that’s somewhat of a relief. Clint had been hoping the glimpse of crumbling skyline he got wasn’t some horrific version of New York in shambles.

“That’s a really long story. And I’ll pass out before I finish it, so you should probably untie me.” Clint coughs for effect. Batman seems unphased.

“What were you doing in one of the Falcone hideouts?” Anger seems to rush back into his voice with the question, and Clint shrinks back against the chair a little.

“Woah, woah. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time, alright? Your friends greeted me with some guns to the face so I reacted in self defense. I didn’t have any sort of agenda, I swear.” Except he sort of did. Alternate universe or not, Clint knows bad when he sees it, and Asshole and his friends reeked of malintent. Batman definitely registers on the scale as well.

Batman falls silent at that, although Clint can practically see the rage curling off him like smoke. He gets a sudden pang of loneliness in his chest. He wishes Bucky was here. He makes the anger look a lot sexier.

“So you don’t know the Falcones?”

“I don’t know you, you think I know them? I told you, I’m not from this hell of a universe. I fell through a fucking gateway in space and landed here. All I want to do is get home.”

Batman looms contemplatively.

“It would be very, very stupid to try anything,” he rumbles carefully. Clint holds back an eye roll.

“Yeah, I’m picking up on that.”

Batman reaches out a clawed, no, gloved hand, pushing down a button. The restraints keeping Clint to the chair fall open with a mechanical hiss, and he gingerly rubs at his wrists.

“So, when you kidnapped me out of an abandoned building, you didn’t happen to pick up my bow, did you?” He looks up hopefully, sighing as he’s met with an unrelenting scowl. “Yeah, alright. Just thought I’d ask.” Clint slides off the chair, keeping his movements open and cautious. Once he’s out of the interrogation spotlight, his eyes adjust to the cave much quicker. Clint’s mouth falls open as he stares into the depths of the cavern.

“Fucking christ, what are you, Victor Von Doom? How many gadgets can a supervillain possibly need?”

“I’m not a supervillain,” Batman growls, sounding almost offended. Clint blinks, and his eyes fall on something behind his darkly shrouded shoulders. There’s a display case. Well, a row of display cases. Most of them are full of haunting iterations of Batman’s current costume, but Clint’s eyes catch on the brighter ones. Red, green, yelllow, and purple spandex glint back at him through the gloom.

“Well, fuck me. Are you a good guy?”

>>==========>

The blackness of the portal gives way to bright blue skies and a sparkling metropolis. The first thing Bucky notices is that Clint isn’t below him. There’s no flailing dumbass hurtling towards the ground, and no black and purple smear on the pavement below, which is almost upsettingly spotless. The glimpse Bucky gets of his surroundings as he hurdles downwards feels like a creepy utopian image of New York, all the litter and grime and graffiti and heart scrubbed spotless and gleaming. He allows himself a little smug satisfaction as he drops past a skyscraper and punches his hand into the brick to slow his descent.

There’s an explosion from above, and Bucky looks up to see the other side of the gateway still gaping out against the clear blue sky, two figures racing up toward it.

One of the flying figures looks like some hideous green version of the hulkbuster suit, but with a crackling cannon-like device strapped to its’ back. The second figure is a blue and red streak against the sky, its’ goal clearly being to impede the green monstrosity from reaching the gateway.

There’s a crowd gathering in the plaza below, and Bucky’s destructive descent doesn’t get half a glance from the people with their necks craned up to the sky. Another explosion sounds off, and a chunk of the green suit comes hurtling downward, heading toward a cluster of onlookers on the edge of the plaza. Bucky wonders if this twilight zone New York is some kind of haven for fucked up villains. It sure looks like it. He isn’t sure anyone who would willingly live in a place like this is worth saving. But his legs don’t seem to care, and his arm certainly doesn’t hesitate as he rips the front panel off of a mailbox and jumps in front of two kids that are too scared to move, using the metal sheet to deflect the smoking debris.

“Get back,” he growls, and the kids scream and stumble backwards, clearing the area in time as the green hulkbuster falls from the sky like a stone, the blue streak racing after it. Bucky retreats as well, although not as far as the rest of the crowd. The blue streak catches the hulkbuster about twenty feet off the ground. Bucky unstraps his machine gun from his back, because he’s just realized that the blue streak is shaped like a man, and he’s not about to let his guard down on any man that can lift a thing like that with one hand.

A guy tumbles out of the hulkbuster, dropping to the ground and scrambling away as Blue drops the empty shell with a pavement-cracking thump. The crowd behind him cheers, all eyes on Blue, and naturally misses the second guy pulling out some weird blaster that looks like something a Flash Gordon villain would use. He aims the sci-fi blaster at the crowd, and cheers turn to screams.

“Stay back, Superman,” the guy calls, the sun glinting off his bald head. “Or the whole crowd gets it.”

Bucky isn’t sure if this is some kind of elaborately immersive live theater, or if he’s just ended up in a universe modelled after saturday morning cartoons. Either way, baldy doesn’t seem to notice as Bucky puts him in his scopes.

“Not so fast, Luthor,” Blue, Superman, calls back. “Think about what you’re doing.”

“Oh, I’ve thought about it. I’ve thought about it long and- AAGH” Bucky’s bullet goes clean through Luthor’s arm, sending the blaster spinning away and giving Superman the opening to scoop the guy up by the back of his shirt. Bucky can’t see any reason the guy can fly like that, but that doesn’t seem to stop him from hovering a triumphant ten feet above the crowd.

“Evil never prospers, Luthor. You’re headed straight for Stryker’s Island.”

The two of them disappear in a blur of blue.

Bucky needs a drink. He thinks about his odds of finding a satisfyingly seedy bar in a shiny place like this and decides he needs more than one. The approaching police sirens suggest he find himself a few bottles.

He ducks into an alley as the crowd disperses, cursing whatever absolute sociopath of a city planner made these alleys so wide open and well lit. He considers chucking the domino mask and weapon in a dumpster, but decides there’s not much point when he still has a metal arm and is clad head to toe in combat gear and leather. He doesn’t even make it out the other end of the alley before there’s a flash of blue and he finds himself staring into the very intense glare of Superman himself.

“You’re not a civilian,” Superman booms, apparently not caring if the police find them or not. His fights must end in a lot less paperwork than Bucky’s tend to.

“No,” he agrees.

“What are you doing in Metropolis?” Superman raises his chin challengingly, showing off a heroic jawline and a stubborn glare that’s uncomfortably familiar. Bucky bites back a laugh because of course this hell hole is called fucking Metropolis. Instead, he holds his hands up placatingly, although the effect might be ruined some by the gun still in his hands.

“I’m looking for a friend.”

“And you thought the best way to find him was to go jumping through portals and tearing up buildings?”

“There was only one portal, really, and it’s not like we went through on purpose.” That’s half a lie, but Superman doesn’t seem to notice. “He should’ve come through right before me. Or maybe a while before. I don’t pretend to know anything about travelling through universes. His name’s Clint Barton. Tall, blond. Wears purple, shoots arrows. I think you’d know him if you saw him.”

“That portal opened up only a second before you came through,” Superman says, and he actually seems apologetic about it. “The only reason Luthor was heading for it is because he’s been studying interdimensional rifts for months. If your friend had come through, I would’ve seen him.”

“Figures he’d fuck it up like this,” Bucky mutters to himself, holstering his weapon. “That’s the last time I let my guard down around a fucking sentient vine.”

“Sentient vine?” Superman actually perks up at that, and Bucky raises a brow.

“Yeah, it pulled him in. Sound familiar?”

Superman beamed at him, and Bucky resisted the urge to punch him right in the gleaming teeth.

“I don’t know where your friend is, but I know someone who might.”

#winterhawk #buckyclint #my fics #Rated: T #idk if you've caught on yet but i have absolutely no method for rating my fics #also i'd like to state for the record that i'm a big dc comics fan #i just also hate dc comics #also thats a stupid name #dc comics???#detective comics comics???

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bechloeislegit · 6 years

Text

BECHLOE WEEK 2018

Day 4: Why?

Note: I wasn't quite sure what to do with this one. I did see where the moderator (is that what they’re called?) told another writer that it could be used any way the writer wishes, such as having someone in the story asking Why?; so that's what I did. I hope you enjoy it.

______________________________________________________________

Beca had a long day and was slowly making her way back home. She smiled because 'home' was the Bellas house and she considered the girls her family. She knew that no matter what happened after they graduated, she would always be able to count on her family.

It was only six-thirty when Beca came into the Bellas house. She was surprised to see most of the girls sitting in the living room. The only girls not there were Flo and Lily. She dropped her bag at the bottom of the stairs to take up later and walked, into the living room, greeting the girls.

"What? No hot dates tonight?," Beca asked the group as she grabbed a handful of chips. "Everyone is usually running around getting ready by now. I don't think I've seen this many of you just sitting around on a Friday night, like, ever. Especially you two." Beca nodded in the direction of Stacie and Amy.

"You know the hunter's been tamed," Stacie said with a wink. "And, Aubrey had to work overtime tonight."

"I have a date later," Fat Amy said. "Much later, if you know what I mean."

"We all know what you mean, Ames," Emily said.

"What about you?," Chloe asked as Beca sat down next to her. "No hot date with Jesse?

"Um, God no," Beca responds.

"Why not?," Jessica asked.

"Probably because he's with his girlfriend," Beca said nonchalantly as she munched on her chips.

"What?," the Bellas asked as one.

"Since when?," CR asked.

"We broke up little over a month ago. We both realize we were better as friends." Beca laughed and added, "I really should know better by now not to tell you girls anything when you're drunk."

"Wait," Chloe said with a furrowed brow. "When did you tell us this? Why don't I remember? This is big news."

"Remember that day in January when Stacie told us that it was 'Peculiar People Day'?," Beca asked.

"Yeah," the girls responded.

"It was decided that since we considered ourselves a band of misfits that the Bellas should celebrate," Beca said and the girls nodded. "And, someone," she looks at Chloe when she says this, "decided to let Fat Amy play bartender. I came home and didn't realize how drunk all of you were and told you that Jesse and I had just broken up. Everybody gave me sympathy in the form of whatever it was you all were drinking, and I was as drunk as the rest of you by the time we called it a night. After that, it never really came up again."

"Oh, my God," Chloe said. "I only remember the start of that party. I have no memory of anything after that until the next morning."

"I don't think any of us do," Ashley said. "That was one weird night."

"You're welcome," Fat Amy said with a smug smile.

"I'm so glad I missed it," Emily half-whispered so only Ashley heard.

"I wish I had," Ashley whispered back and shivered.

"I'm so sorry, Beca," Chloe said. "I should have been there for you with ice cream and boxes of tissues."

Chloe pulled Beca into a hug. Beca hugged her back and pulled away.

"It's okay, Chlo," Beca said. "Like I said, we knew we were better off as friends. And I wasn't really that upset over it."

"So, that means your single," CR said with a mischievous grin. "I know someone who might be interested in going out if you're up to it. And, I know for a fact they're not doing anything tonight."

Chloe threw the dark-skinned beauty a glare.

"Ooooh, I know who you're talking about," Jessica said. "She's really nice, Beca."

"You should take them up on it, Beca," Stacie said. "You know what they say? The easiest way to get over somebody-"

"Is to get under somebody else," the girls all finish together and start laughing.

"Funny," Beca deadpanned. "Thanks, but I think I'm good for now. You don't mind if I hang out with you girls tonight, do you?"

"You know you're one of us, right?," Chloe said, giving her a quick hug.

"Are you sure, Beca?," CR said, not letting it go, much to Chloe's chagrin. "This girl is so your type."

"She said she wasn't interested, CR," Chloe said as she started to squirm. She knew they were talking about her. It was no secret to the Bellas that she liked Beca. "Let's just drop it."

"But, she's really hot!," CR said and pushed on when she saw Chloe blush. "I mean smokin' hot! And, like I said, just your type."

"So, I have a type?," Beca said with amusement.

"Yes, you do," Jessica said. She looked over at CR and grinned. "I'd say your type is someone who loves music as much as you do."

"Exactly," CR said. "And they have to be able to get past your snarky attitude. And if anybody can do that, she can."

"And," Ashley adds, "they would also have to like the whole closed-off alt-girl look you have going on. Although, admittedly, you have toned that down over the years we've known you."

"Thanks," Beca said with a smirk.

"Someone who can invade your personal space without making you want to cringe," Stacie adds.

"Someone who knows your coffee order," Jessica said.

"Someone who can put you in a good mood just by smiling at you," Emily throws in.

"That's enough," Chloe finally said. "Leave Beca alone. She can find her own dates."

"Thanks, Chlo," Beca said with a smile. "But, it's okay. I'm kind of liking the sound of this girl they're talking about."

Chloe gave her a 'what the hell?' look.

"I mean, she sounds nice," Beca said with a shrug. "And I'd like to hear more about her."

The Bellas were all smiling when Chloe let out a huff and left the room.

"I have her number if you want to give the girl a call," Stacie said with a laugh.

"That's okay," Beca said with a big smile. "I already have it."

Beca pulled out her phone and found a contact and hit the call button. She, too, walked out of the room as the phone started ringing.

"Guess she's not as oblivious as we thought," Jessica said as they all started high-fiving each other.

Chloe hurried up to her room and shut the door. She flopped onto the bed as a tear started to fall. She couldn't believe Beca could be so dense. It was obvious the girls were talking about her. She felt her phone vibrate in her pocket and pulled it out to answer without looking to see who was calling.

"Hello," Chloe said.

"So," Beca's voice came through the line. "I hear from mutual friends that you are smokin' hot and just my type." Chloe smiles. "So, I was wondering if you were free to have dinner with me? Tonight."

"You mean a date?," Chloe asked, not believing what she was hearing.

"Yes, a date," Beca responded. "Do you want to go out with me?"

"Are you serious?," Chloe asked as she sat up on the bed. "This is for real?"

"Yes, and yes," Beca said and laughed. "See, I've been crushing on you for a while, but I was in a relationship and couldn't act on my feelings."

"What about now?," Chloe asked with a small smile on her face.

"Oh, I'm kind of beyond crushing on you," Beca said quietly since she was standing outside Chloe's door and didn't want her to know she was there. "And the relationship is over. Don't worry it was an amicable split. So, I'm single, and I've been led to believe that you're also single. So, what do you say? Are you interested in a date? With me? Tonight?"

"I'd love to," Chloe said as she jumped off the bed and hurried to the door. She wanted to find Beca.

"Great," Beca said. "How about I pick you up," suddenly Chloe opened her door and squealed not expecting to see Beca standing there. "Now?"

Chloe just grinned and said into the phone, "Give me ten minutes to change into something a little less comfortable."

"I think it's safe to hang up now," Beca said with a chuckle. She put her phone in her pocket and smiled at Chloe.

Chloe put her phone in her pocket and pulled Beca into a hug. "Seriously, give me ten minutes, and we can go."

Beca reluctantly pulled out of the hug.

"I'll wait for you downstairs," Beca said.

Chloe closed her door and squealed again. She rushed around looking for something to change into.

Beca thought about changing as well, but looked down and decided her work clothes were fine for dinner out. She went downstairs, and the girls started cheering.

"Finally," Beca heard a voice say.

"Aubrey?," Beca asked looking around.

"I have her on speaker," Stacie said. "I had to call and tell her that the bechloe ship was finally leaving the dock."

"Beca," Aubrey said. "I know I don't have to tell you what will happen to you if you hurt my best friend, right?"

The girls all smiled and looked at Beca.

"I promise you, Aubrey," Beca said. "If I do anything that hurts Chloe, you can do whatever you want to me."

"Deal," Aubrey said. "Stacie take me off speaker, please."

Stacie takes the phone off speaker and goes into another room so she can finish talking to Aubrey in private.

"So, where are you taking Red?," Fat Amy asked.

"I was thinking we'd just hit up Antonio's since it's so last minute," Beca responded. "And then we'll just see what happens after that."

"That sounds perfect," Ashley said.

Beca is smiling as she sits and waits for Chloe. She can't believe they are actually going on a date. Suddenly, her smile drops and she looks panicked.

"Beca?," CR said as she went to Beca's side. She knew that look and that Beca was starting to panic, which means she wanted to run. "Don't do it. Chloe has been waiting for you to make a move for a long time. Don't flake out on her now."

"I, um, I have a date with Chloe," Beca said and swallowed. "Oh, my God. Why do I have a date with Chloe? Oh, right. I asked her. Why did I ask her?"

She started breathing heavy, and her eyes were wide with panic.

"She's losing it," Fat Amy said. She goes rushing out of the room and comes back with Stacie.

"Beca," Stacie asked, kneeling in front of the girl. "Are you okay?"

"She's panicking because her brain finally caught up to the fact that she asked Chloe out on a date," Jessica said.

"BECA!," Aubrey yells causing Beca's head to jerk and look at Stacie's phone mere inches from her head.

"Yeah?," Beca asked hesitantly as Stacie placed the phone near her ear.

"If you try and back out of this date," Aubrey said so Beca could hear her. "I am going to skin you alive and leave your bones for the vultures. Do you understand me?"

Beca blinked a couple of times. "Yeah," Beca said seeming to calm down after hearing Aubrey's voice. "Thanks, Aubrey."

"Any time," Aubrey said, and Beca could almost hear the smirk she knew Aubrey was wearing.

"Sorry, everyone," Beca said. "Just a moment of panic. I'm fine now."

"Becs?," Chloe called as she entered the living room to find the girls huddled around her. The girls turned to look at Chloe. "Is everything okay?"

Beca smiled at her, and the girls moved away from Beca. "It is now," Beca said as she got up and walked over to Chloe. "You look great," Beca said and kissed Chloe on the cheek.

"Are you okay?," Chloe whispered.

"I'm fine. Don't worry," Beca said. "I did have a mini-panic attack, but I'm better now that you're here. Shall we go?"

"Are you sure you're okay?," Chloe asked. "We don't have to go out."

"Yes, we do," Beca said. "We've wanted this for too long to back out now."

Chloe smiled and grabbed Beca's hand. "Then let's go."

"See you girls later," Beca called out as she headed for the door.

"Don't wait up," Chloe said and winked at them.

Beca's eyes got wide and then she smiled. "What she said," was the last thing the girls heard just before the front door closed.

~oOo~ ~oOo~ ~oOo~

Beca and Chloe were sitting across from each other at a cozy little table for two. They had placed their orders and were now just chatting.

"I'm glad you asked me out," Chloe said with a soft smile.

"I'm glad I asked you out, too," Beca said mirroring Chloe's smile.

"I could have killed the girls when they started talking about finding you a girl, even if that girl was me," Chloe said with a small laugh. "It seems everyone knew about my feelings for you, except you."

"I've been wanting to ask you out since Jesse and I broke up," Beca said. "I have to admit he's the one who told me to go after you."

"He did?," Chloe asked, surprised. "Why would he do that?"

"He did," Beca said. "He said he could tell I was into you and I shouldn't let fear stop me from being with who I really wanted. It seems he knows me better than I thought he did. He's bugged me about it almost every day since."

"He really is a good guy," Chloe said.

"He is," Beca said. "But, back to the Bellas. As I was saying, I've wanted to ask you out for a while. When they started talking about knowing a girl who was my type, I caught on pretty quick they were talking about you, so I went along with it. I thought you were playing along until you left in a huff."

"I thought you were being oblivious to the fact that it was me they were talking about," Chloe said, looking apologetic.

"Understandable," Beca said and they both grew quiet.

Beca looked at Chloe and Chloe looked back. Beca took a chance and started to lean forward to kiss Chloe. Chloe moved forward as well.

"Here you are ladies," the waiter said interrupting them as he placed their food in front of them.

"Why, dude?," Beca asked, her frustration evident. "Why now?"

"My apologies," the waiter said and hurried away.

"It's okay, Beca," Chloe said with a laugh. "We have all night."

"You're right," Beca said. "I'm sorry. I just really want to kiss you."

"I really want to kiss you, too," Chloe said.

The two girls leaned forward again, each staring at the other. Their lips were mere inches from each other.

"Sorry, ladies," the waiter said interrupting again.

"Why? Why are you here this time?," Beca said trying to hold back her frustration.

"I, um, I forgot, uh," the waiter stammered.

"It's okay," Chloe said, placing her hand gently on top of Beca's that was on the table. She turned to the waiter. "What did you forget?"

"I forgot to leave your bread," the waiter said and set the plate on the table before hurrying away.

"Let's eat," Chloe said, giving Beca's hand a squeeze before letting it go. "It all looks delicious."

The two girls began eating and talked about anything and everything. They were both almost finished when Beca offered Chloe a bite of her stuffed shells. Chloe took it and hummed in appreciation.

"That's really good," Chloe said. She then put the last bite of her lasagna on her fork and offered it to Beca. "Here. Taste this."

Chloe held the fork towards Beca. Beca placed her hand over Chloe's and slowly pulled the fork closer. She leans in and takes the offered bite, closing her lips around it until they met the fork. She slowly drew back, letting her lips slide the bite off the fork and into her mouth. She kept her hand on Chloe's and looked directly into her eyes as she licked her lips to capture some of the tomato sauce that lingered. Beca could see the shudder that ran through Chloe as she sucked in her bottom lip and smiled.

"Oh, my God," Chloe thought to herself. "That was so sexy."

"Wow," Beca said letting go of Chloe's hand. "That's really good. I hope wherever we go next time the food is just as good."

Chloe realized her hand was still holding her empty fork in the air and quickly put it down on the table. Trying to act casual, when her whole body was tingling, she took a deep breath to settle herself and looked at Beca.

"Um, next time?," Chloe asked, her voice a little shaky. She cleared her throat. "You think there's going to be a next time?" Chloe was relieved that she sounded more confident.

Beca wiped her mouth and put the napkin back on her lap. She looked at Chloe.

"Why? Don't you?," Beca asked. "I mean I hope this isn't our first and only date. I'd like to take you out again, a lot. I mean, you know if you want."

Chloe couldn't help but smile at how quickly confident Beca became uncertain Beca.

"I very much want," Chloe said. "Are you done? Eating, I mean."

"Um, yeah," Beca said. "Why? Would you like some dessert?"

"No thanks," Chloe said. "I was just thinking maybe we could go home?"

"Why?," Beca said. "I thought you were having a good time. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to put you on the spot. It's...I guess I'm just not ready for the night to end."

"I am having a good time," Chloe said and bit her bottom lip to hold back a smile. "And who said the night was ending?"

"You said you wanted to go home," Beca said and looked at Chloe. Chloe just looked back at her with a big smile on her face. "Oh, you meant-. Check please!"

#bechloeweek #bechloeweek2018 #bechloe #fanfic #bechloe week 2018

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shireness-says · 6 years

Text

Playing the Part ch. 2: Getting to Know You

Summary: As a stage manager who's clawed her way up from bottom, Emma Swan can handle just about anything thrown her way. But does that include handsome lead actor Killian Jones? A CS Broadway AU. Rated T. Also on AO3. Prologue Ch. 1

A/N: We’re back, with my favorite Jones Brothers conversation I’ve written so far and a great Captain Swan bonding moment! Chapter title from “The King and I”.

Thanks, as always, to @snidgetsafan, my phenomenal beta. She’s the absolute best.

A disclaimer: This chapter addresses Belle's backstory, which is... less than pleasant. Nothing so bad that there need to be archive warnings, but power dynamics were definitely taken advantage of. I want to make it clear that I'm not condoning what's happened to her, and I've tried to express that in the actual writing, but I just want to reiterate it here. Just because it happened, doesn't mean I'm ok with it, or that you have to be either.

That being said, I hope you enjoy the chapter anyway!

Tags: @kmomof4, @winterbaby89, @thejollyroger-writer, @mythologicalmango, @onceuponaprincessworld, @idristardis, @teamhook, @courtorderedcake, @aerica13, @revanmeetra87, @snowbellewells, @searchingwardrobes

“... but not handsome enough to tempt me.”

God, he hates that line. Yes, it’s from the source material, and yes, it is crucial to the plot, but he always feels like an absolute dick saying it. Belle is an absolutely lovely woman, inside and out, and doesn’t deserve to hear those words directed her way, even in character.

He’s actually apologized for the way he’s acted before in character, had felt like he had to. Belle, bless her heart, laughed and waved off his apologies.

“For the record, I can tell the difference between you and your character, Killian,” she had said. “Please don’t worry about it.”

But he worries anyways. Part of it is just his nature, Killian supposes - he’s a man with a heart built for concern and mild anxiety, it seems. But Belle really does seem rather isolated, and he hates to reinforce that even in character.

He’s heard the rumors, of course - the industry is smaller than they’d like to pretend, and when word made it around that Belle French had been cast in the iconic role of Elizabeth Bennet, old gossip about the woman had made the rounds again too. It’s a horrible story, predictable in all the worst ways: young, up-and-coming actress embarks on a relationship with an older producer. Actress decides that the relationship has run its course. Actress is suddenly, mysteriously branded as “difficult to work with” and struggles to land roles.

Meeting Belle in person, it’s particularly absurd. She’s ridiculously talented and probably one of the nicest and least difficult people he knows and really, it’s not fair. There’s been an increase in accountability in this industry lately, something that’s desperately needed, but the lawyers are still focused on the things they can prosecute - obvious cases of assault and manipulation. Belle’s circumstances don’t clearly fit either of those criteria, having willingly engaged in the relationship, one she thought was based on mutual respect and affection. It doesn’t help that Gold is a major player in this game, able to affect people’s opinions for better or worse with his word alone. For the past several years, Belle’s just been left to flounder on her own with her professional reputation wrongly in tatters. For the moment, no one cares. It’s all so disgustingly unfair.

Personally, Killian thinks Belle deserves the world. He hopes this show is a massive success for a variety of reasons - selfish ones obviously included - but not the least of them is the hope that it’ll reshape the current narrative around Belle, show that she’s talented and kind and an absolute delight. She needs that. She deserves that.

Belle tells him about it herself one day over a cup of tea during one of the rehearsal breaks. He didn’t ask, not explicitly, but she must sense the confusion in his eyes and in his mind about how someone with so much sheer raw talent has been cast aside by the industry.

“He was such a gentleman at first, you know? Yeah, I was getting roles, and probably part of that was because I was seeing him, but I genuinely loved him, and him me. I knew he had a reputation for being tough and focused on success above everything else, but he always encouraged me, and was so happy when I landed roles and was doing well. So when I felt the relationship had come to a natural end, I just figured…” She pauses in her recounting, hurriedly wiping at the tears forming in her eyes. Killian tries to comfort her as best he can, digging one-handed through his pockets for a tissue as he tries to rub her back soothingly with the other. He feels so useless, so male in this situation, but he’s still determined to help and comfort her in any way he can.

“I feel so stupid some days,” Belle continues, gratefully accepting the single kleenex he was able to locate in an inner jacket pocket (and God, he hopes it wasn’t used). “I just… I should have known right away he was insane.”

Killian likes to think he’s a good friend, and a good man, but he’s also a kid who grew up in theaters and around theatre kids, and as he does his best to reassure his scene partner that she’s in no way responsible for the actions of that bastard, he has to forcibly remind himself not to smile at such a bad time at her unintentional quoting.

The stage manager, Emma, is walking past at just that moment, though, and he’s pretty sure he hears her mutter the next words under her breath, so he’s comforted by the knowledge that he’s not the only one with terrible timing and a bad sense of humor.

But again, it’s not the time to ask about it. Killian is 100% focused and committed to being a supportive friend to Belle in this moment - he’ll have to ask later. Preferably out of earshot, before they both get a reputation for being horrible human beings who laugh at unfortunate times.

But there’s never really a chance to ask later - their short break is up before he knows it, and then it’s straight back into choreography. Their choreographer, a vibrant redhead named Ariel, may have a sweet demeanor, but there’s a spine of steel underneath that smile, and Killian knows better than to dawdle. He’ll catch Emma later, he thinks, some time when he’s not needed. But even in those moments when Killian doesn’t strictly need to be doing anything but hang around and watch, waiting for his next instructions and ideally reviewing the script (it’s never too soon to be off book, after all), Swan is invariably still busy.

So Killian waits. The opportunity will present itself, he’s sure.

------

It’s been a good day, Emma is pleased to note. The sheer potential of this show is truly shaping up into something that, with plenty of polishing, just might be magnificent. There’s always going to be issues - after working so many shows, Emma has learned that off-stage drama is an inevitability - but for the most part, even the cast is obliging her by staying professional and getting along. Which is literally all she asks for. Zelena has a definite penchant to complain about anything and everything, but it’s not yet at a point that they can’t handle or that needs addressing.

Still, even a good day is exhausting in it’s own way. Emma is ready to make whatever calls are necessary (just Robin and the props guy today, she thinks), and get home. Yeah, the apartment will be quiet with Henry at Neal’s for Labor Day weekend, but she could probably use a little quiet - a chance to recharge, if you will.

However, that chance disintegrates at the sight of Mary Margaret approaching with a smile full of intent. For all her sweetness, Emma’s learned that her friend can be stubborn and determined, nigh on unmovable when she wants to be, and all the signs are suggesting this will be one of those times.

“Emma!” the petite brunette practically chirps. “It’s been so long since we’ve had a Girl’s Night, hasn’t it?”

It’s not a subtle opening at all, and Emma spots where Mary Margaret is going with this from a mile away. “Oh, I don’t know,” she tries to deflect, hoping against hope that maybe she can still wheedle herself out of these plans. “Seems like we all did something only a few weeks ago —”

“Don’t be silly,” Mary Margaret interrupts, flippantly waving a hand as if to literally shoo Emma’s protests away. “You’re thinking of that brunch date we had, the one Henry came to. It’s been ages since we had a proper Girls’ Night. And since Henry’s gone this weekend, really, there’s no better time!”

“I don’t know,” Emma tries to protest. “I’ve really got a lot that still needs doing, I don’t know if I’ll be able to make it.” It’s not true in the least. The best part about a good day is that even when she is left with things on her to-do list, they’re quick little housekeeping bits, not major crises she needs to untangle. Unfortunately, after a decade of friendship, Mary Margaret knows that too, and fixes her with an unimpressed look.

“Uh uh,” she responds, shaking her head with finality. “No excuses. I’m going to find Ruby, and we are going out. I won’t let you sit at home all lonely with Henry gone. You’re not getting out of this, Emma Swan.”

Much as Emma hates to admit it - hates to admit defeat in general, really - she’s well aware that she really isn’t going to be able to weasel her way out of this. When Mary Margaret gets that look in her eye and that tone in her voice, nothing can sway her from whatever evil plan she’s devised. For better or worse, Emma will be going out tonight. She only hopes it won’t be too miserable an outing. “Fine,” she concedes, holding up a hand to silence Mary Margaret’s happy squeal. “But I am not lonely. And only for a little bit.”

“Oh Emma, we’re going to have so much fun!” her friend gushes, seemingly ignoring the end of Emma’s sentence. “I’ll call Ruby right now, have her meet us at the Grey Lady. Oh! I wonder if Belle would want to go!”

Emma groans as her dreams of a quiet evening in drift further and further away with every expansion of Mary Margaret’s plans. The likelihood of fun seems pretty small right now; Emma settles for just hoping she’ll make it out of this alive and sans hangover.

------

It’s been a long day, but a rewarding one. His script is filled with new notes, he finally isn’t tripping over the rhythms of the proposal scene song, and his feet are tired from practicing ballroom steps over and over again. It’s a pattern he’s getting used to, day by day, but the fact still remains; it’s exhausting.

Killian is just planning to finally go talk to their fearless stage manager, see if she said what he’s 87.9% certain he heard and hopefully trudge home when Nolan practically corners him, effectively ending that plan.

“You’ve got to come out tonight,” David whispers frantically, hunched over in a way that he must think looks surreptitious, but in reality just looks awkward and uncomfortable.

“Ok…” Killian whispers back. “Why?”

“Because I just heard that Mary Margaret is going to be at the Grey Lady tonight with a group of friends!”

“...okay, and?”

“And I like her!” David hisses, seemingly insulted for no apparent reason.

“Calm down, mate, jeez. What, you need an excuse to go, rather than just showing up?”

“Yes!”

“Do I have to whisper the entire night?”

This is apparently the last of David’s patience, as he rolls his eyes and snaps out a response. “For God’s sakes, no. Now will you come with me, or not?”

It’d really be mean at this point, after all the teasing, to tell him no. Killian doesn’t really have plans anyways; he’d tentatively scheduled a call with Liam, but they can always talk later and text throughout the night.

“Alright, Dave, I’ll go with you. Where’s this place at?”

“... About that…”

Excellent.

------

Only for a little bit, she had told Mary Margaret. And she had meant it; despite all her friend’s wheedling about how she’d be lonely at home with Henry at Neal’s, Emma had been looking forward to a quiet evening. Of course, that’s all wishful thinking.

Belle had been interested in joining the outing, as had Elsa, as had their Lydia and three of the chorus girls since it seemed like Mary Margaret had invited every female member of the cast. The Grey Lady has been reduced to a cacophony of female laughter and conversation as Emma desperately tries to either escape or ignore the chaos, both efforts to no avail. For the moment, Emma’s perched at the end of the bar with Elsa trying to cheer her up, purple drink in hand (a Grateful Dead, because “you can’t just get whiskey, Emma, this is Girls’ Night, you have to get something fun.” Ugh.).

“I know you don’t want to be here in the least,” Elsa tries to cajole, “but hey, as long as you’re here, you might as well make the most of it. We can play a game of darts or something if you want, that’d at least get you out of the major crush here at the bar.”

She means so well, trying to coax Emma out of the corner and out of her funk, but honestly, Emma’s quite determined to stay exactly as she is. “It’s really fine, Elsa,” she replies. “Honestly, I’m just hoping that if I sit here and don’t move for long enough, Mary Margaret will forget that I’m here and maybe I can just slip out.”

Elsa snorts at that, which is really enough of a response on its own. “Yeah, good luck with that.” Her face still turns concerned and serious when the humor wears off as she does her best to fuss over Emma. “Are you sure? I’m happy to stay with you if you want, but if you don’t…” Elsa trails off tellingly. Emma honestly feels a little bit bad. For all her introversion, Elsa really does enjoy evenings out like this when she sets her mind to it, and Emma is effectively holding her back from having fun by insisting on being a sad sack at the bar.

“Really, Elsa, I’m fine. Go have fun! It looks like they’re starting some kind of drinking game up over there, that’ll certainly be entertaining if nothing else.”

Elsa’s eyes dart back towards the other ladies longingly, but her voice and body language is still hesitant. “If you’re sure…”

“Yes! I’ll be fine. Don’t let my attitude ruin the night, I’m happy enough with my stupid purple drink. You know I like watching drinking games more than playing anyways. Go!”

“Alright, but you’ll let me know if you change your mind and want company, right?” Elsa fusses as she grabs her drink and stands to leave. It’s a small progress. Emma nods impatiently, all but ready to push Elsa towards the other women. It must be obvious on her face though, as Elsa laughs before dropping an affectionate kiss on the side of Emma’s head. “Ok, ok, I’m gone. Do try to have fun, Emma, just find someone to talk to for ten minutes. And don’t drink too much, because I’m going to need you to lead me back home!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Emma mutters in response. She makes no promises, especially on the socializing front.

———

The bar is much busier than Killian had expected when he, David, and Booth arrive. Killian isn’t exactly sure how the last man got invited; he certainly didn’t have any part in it. August Booth is a genial enough man, however, a perfect casting for Colonel Fitzwilliam in temperament, so his presence tonight won’t be any true hardship. If Killian had to hazard a guess, David had probably invited him for more credence to his cover story that he just happens to be at the same bar as the lady he’s interested in on some sort of boys’ night outing. It seems that the ladies’ outing may have expanded as well; while Killian had expected to see Mary Margaret and Swan, it appears half the female cast is crowded into the bar as well, Mary Margaret unsurprisingly at the center of everything, playing hostess even though the bar is obviously not her house. It doesn’t take long for her to notice their own little group’s entrance, and she hurries over with a wide smile.

“David! Killian! August! What a pleasant surprise!” she gushes. Killian is amused to see that her cheeks are ever-so-slightly flushed. Perhaps David’s little crush isn’t quite so ridiculous as he seems to think. David himself looks a little struck by his lady’s entrance, so Killian quickly takes the reins of the conversation.

“Aye, it truly is. Thought we’d go out tonight, have a bit of a bonding exercise. You don’t mind that we’re here, do you? We didn’t mean to crash whatever you’ve got going on here.” It’s a blatant lie, but Killian is counting on the brunette being too flustered by their - well, David’s sudden appearance to notice.

It seems to be working, thankfully, as Mary Margaret smiles brightly. “Of course not! We planned this as a little Girls’ Night, but you’re more than welcome to stay and socialize! The more the merrier, right?”

It’s impossible not to like the woman, really. While she’s far too perky for Killian to ever be romantically interested, Mary Margaret is such a deeply kind and pleasant person that only the truly cruel would ever take a dislike to her. “Aye, thank you.”

“Is that some sort of drinking game I see about to start?” August cuts in, likely saving them all from an encounter quickly veering towards the awkward and overly sincere.

“I think it’s more of a contest, knowing Ruby,” their quasi-host laughs, “but yes, they’re about to start. A bit wild for me, so I was about to go get another cosmo. David, Killian? Do either of you want to join me?” The invitation is technically extended to both of them, but Killian sees the way her gaze keeps focusing on David, hears the way her voice pitches up hopefully, and quickly makes his excuses.

“I actually think I might grab a beer and try my hand at the dart board, so I’ll leave you two to it.” It’s probably not the most subtle move, but David’s already shooting him a grateful look, so he supposes that his words have been effective enough.

It’s as he’s walking further down the bar to get his drink that he spots Swan in the corner, where he hadn’t noticed her when he had entered the bar, wearing a sour look on her face and sipping on something in a near fluorescent purple. Somehow, he’s not surprised to see her set apart from the thick of things; their straight-laced stage manager doesn’t seem like she’d be particularly comfortable in a chattering crowd of women. It may be taking his life in his hands considering the look Swan has on her face, but he veers to join her at the end of the bar, more enthusiastic about the prospect of spending his time chatting with her than facing the female crush everywhere else.

The skeptical look Swan shoots him as he saunters over with a charming smile should be his second warning, but Killian’s never had much of a self-preservation instinct anyways. “Fancy meeting you here,” he grins.

Swan snorts in return. “Oh, that’s what you’re going with?”

“I couldn’t possibly know what you mean.” It’s another blatant lie, and unlike Mary Margaret, Killian can see that Swan knows exactly why he’s really doing in this bar, sees right past all his and David’s excuses.

“Oh please,” Swan replies, rolling her eyes and confirming what he had expected about her ability to spot his lies. “Like you guys showing up isn’t a blatant excuse for David to flirt with Mary Margaret. The only reason she doesn’t realize it is she’s so damn smitten herself. It’s a little disgusting.”

“You wound me, Swan. It’s an absolute coincidence that we happen to be at the same bar.” Receiving a final unamused look, he collapses onto a stool, giving up the pretense. “They really are smitten, aren’t they? And absolutely obtuse about the matter.”

“Really, they are,” Swan grumbles in return. “Like, it’s so obvious they’ve got a thing for each other, I’m about ready to start placing bets about how long it will take.”

Killian chuckles. “Well, let me know if you ever do, I’d be happy to contribute to the pot.” There’s silence between them for a few minutes as Killian orders his beer, turning back to his companion once his cold drink is in hand. “I can leave you alone if you’d prefer,” he offers, noting the stormy look still occupying her face. “Conversation with you seemed much less intimidating than with the chattering female masses over there, but if you prefer —”

“It’s fine, really,” she waves him off. “I’m just…” she pauses, as if trying to find the words to explain.

“Really Swan, I don’t need an explanation if you don’t —”

“Did you know I have a son?” she interrupts.

It’s news to him. It does explain why he so often catches her trying to surreptitiously check her phone - probably trying to make sure nothing’s wrong with her boy. As he shakes his head in the negative, Emma continues.

“Well, I do. He’s ten. He’s with his dad this weekend. And I’m glad he’s excited about that, but it always makes me…” She waves at her face and its expression, as if that’s an acceptable substitute for actually finishing her sentence with words. Honestly, she’s not wrong on that front, her irritated expression speaking volumes. “So it’s not you, and it’s not the company, and it’s not this outing or party or whatever.” She pauses. “Ok, maybe the last one, but that’s because I’d much rather be at home angrily drinking by myself than being dragged out on the town. But Mary Margaret and Ruby are convinced that if I’m at home, I’ll be wallowing in loneliness, so they dragged me out here against my will.” Another eye roll clearly illustrates Swan’s own thoughts on the matter, and Killian finds himself inexplicably charmed by the gesture. The more he learns and sees of Emma Swan, the more he’s fascinated by her, and he’s glad she hasn’t just unceremoniously sent him on his way tonight.

“Ah, well, that makes two of us,” Killian replies genially, before immediately backtracking. “Not the son bit, but the not particularly wanting to be here. I’d planned to go home and call my brother tonight, but David practically begged me to help in this little farce and… well, long story short, here I am.”

“Here we both are.” She raises her glass to his in a short salute to the unenthusiastic and unwilling.

After taking a swig of his beer, Killian sets his glass back down and turns to Emma with purpose. “It’s not all bad, really. I’ve been trying to find a moment to speak with you all day.”

“Oh?” Her eyebrows raise in curiosity and confusion as she raises her own glass to take another sip of her purple monstrosity. Based on the way her mouth puckers as the alcohol hits her tongue, he thinks she might feel the same way about her beverage.

“Well, you see, I thought I heard you quoting a certain musical earlier…”

Swan immediately groans, her head dropping as if in resignation or defeat. Killian is confident that the only thing keeping her from banging her head on the counter is her folded arms braced against the worn and stained wood. “I was hoping no one heard that.”

“‘This is my husband, we’re from Maine’? I’m impressed by your Sondheim knowledge, Swan, but your timing needs work.”

“I know, I know. It’s… Henry and I have this game, you see, where we try to slip in lyrics without the other knowing. He actually knows a lot, just by virtue of being my kid and practically being raised in theaters. So when I heard Belle, I wasn’t trying to turn it into a joke or something awful like that, it was just… a reflex, I guess.”

“Second nature,” Killian nods in return. “I’m not holding it against you, love, a man just doesn’t expect to hear Assassins quotes tossed around willy-nilly.”

“Thanks.” Catching the bartender’s attention, she holds up her glass in the universal sign for ‘more, please’. “For the record, I’m impressed you caught that. Assassins is pretty much at the top of my list of shows to see, but not everyone knows about it.”

“You can blame my brother for that,” Killian chuckles. “After I decided to become a theatre actor, he decided I needed a full history of the genre. Except the tosser knows next to nothing about musicals and can’t sing a note, so it was mostly just him telling me a lot of Sondheim and Andrew Lloyd Webber facts. Which means I know a disproportionate amount about Cats and Into the Woods. Assassins was at least a more enjoyable entry in his so-called education.”

The story at least gets her to laugh, displacing that foul look she’s been wearing for a moment. “Your brother sounds like a handful. I mean, it sounds like he means well, but wow.”

“Oh, you have no idea,” Killian grumbles, eliciting another laugh from his companion. He could get used to that sound, given the chance. “But enough about that wanker. What would you say to a game of pool, Swan?”

Her answering grin is acceptance and challenge, all at once. “Oh, you’re on, Jones.”

———

It’s late when Killian finally calls Liam; he’s not rightfully sure how late, a series of beers, and later glasses of rum, blurring his perception of time, but he knows it’s far past a respectable hour. The only saving grace is that his older brother is currently out in Los Angeles, three hours behind Killian’s local time. Perhaps that will do something to make up for the perceived lateness of the hour.

“Hello?” sounds Liam’s voice from the other end of the line, and Killian is relieved to hear that his brother’s voice is the normal kind of tired, not the just-woken-up kind. Killian may be a bit drunk, but he’s not so far gone that he can’t tell the difference.

“Brother!” he practically chirps in response. “I know it’s late, but I promised I’d call, didn’t I?”

The chuckle from the other end of the line is warm, if exhausted. “Aye, that you did. Tell me, Killy, how much have you had to drink? Are you ok to find your way home?”

“Oh, a good bit. I’ll be fine.” Liam definitely can’t see the dismissive wave of Killian’s hand, but that doesn’t stop him in the least, his impulse control and logic severely compromised. “David convinced me to come out. Have I told you about Dave, Liam? Dave’s a good mate.”

“Aye, you have. I might have to have a few words with Dave if this is going to become a regular occurence. It’s after 11, Killian, which is even later for you.”

“Oh, don’t scold Dave. I didn’t even spend most of the night with him, I spent it with Swan! I’ve talked about Swan before, haven’t I, Liam?” Oh, he really ought to have talked about Swan before. It’d be a utter shame if he hadn’t - he just can’t properly remember right now.

“Are you making friends with birds, Killy?” Liam’s voice is amused, but Killian is less so upon hearing his older brother’s response.

“Don’t be daft, Liam,” he all but snaps. “No, Swan is the stage manager. I must have told you about her.”

The voice on the other end of the line hums as if in realization. “Ah, the one you’re so fascinated with?”

Even with his delayed responses, Killian can feel himself blush. “I’m not fascinated, Liam,” he explains in what he thinks is a perfectly level and reasoned tone of voice, slightly slurred words be damned. “She’s just a very nice lady. And talented. And lovely too.” The humming noise comes from the other end of the line again, causing Killian to adopt a defensive tone. “I don’t have a crush on her Liam, stop that.”

“I never said you did,” Liam says with amusement coloring his voice. Killian can just imagine the placating hand he must be raising to calm his younger brother back down.

“She’s just very good at her job,” Killian tries to explain. “I admire her.”

“Of course you do,” Liam replies soothingly. “And I know you don’t have any feelings for her, but just in case, tread carefully, alright? It’s not a particularly good idea to get involved with people you’re working closely with.”

“I will be,” Killian dutifully says, before hastening to add, “But it won’t be necessary, Liam. She’s just a friend.”

“Whatever you say, Killian,” Liam placates. “Call me in the morning when the alcohol wears off, aye? I’ll talk to you later.”

“Aye, brother, tomorrow.” There’s the usual exchange of affections to close out the call, and then Killian’s left to his own thoughts again, and still needing to find his way home.

Liam can say all he wants, but no matter how fascinating Killian finds Emma Swan, it’s nothing more than a platonic interest. Even if she is lovely and interesting and brilliant and absolutely someone he could have romantic feelings for.

———

It’s such a cliche to say that their interactions at the bar are the beginning of a beautiful friendship, but Emma thinks she and Jones - Killian, she could probably call him now - might be on their way there. Killian is easy to talk to, charming, funny, and apparently willing to participate in ridiculous romantic schemes in service of a friend. The professional part of Emma feels victorious that they apparently cast the perfect man to play their Mr. Darcy; the rest of her is left just wondering how he’s real. The man acts like something out of one of Mary Margaret’s awful romantic comedies, and Emma’s not sure what to do about it.

It doesn’t help that he seems especially determined to be a gentleman towards Emma in particular. He already does all the door holding and ‘ladies first’ nonsense, but he’s taken to helping Emma collect all the various and sundry things she lends out from her supply box over the course of a day and bringing her hot chocolate in the mornings. She’s not even sure how he knows about the hot chocolate thing; who knows, maybe she told him herself that night at the bar. Emma does get chatty when she gets tipsy, even if she doesn’t like to admit it. Regardless, he’s even figured out that she likes cinnamon on top, and presents the to-go cups each morning with a smile that is much brighter than Emma is properly prepared to see before noon.

They’re friends now, she supposes. That’s what Emma’s willing to admit to at least. Sure, she can easily see how that friendship could turn into something more if they both let it, but they work together. It would be such a bad idea - if not downright disastrous. Friendship is safe; friendship is something they can both handle. There’s absolutely no attraction and no feelings on either side.

Emma only hopes that if she repeats that mantra enough, the words will actually stay true.

#my writing #Playing the Part #Getting to Know You #cs ff #Broadway AU #actor!Killian #stage manager!Emma

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blorbosexterminator · 3 years

Note

I AM BACK!!! FOR 1 FINAL TIME & TO KISS GOODBYE TO THIS BEAUTIFUL FIC 😘

Also, I realized that, whatever happens in any story, its all decided by the writers & in this case, ITS YOU. So, I have a song especially dedicated to you :

🎶Who's been messing up everything?

It's been Nada all along 😈

Who's been pulling every evil string?

It's been Nada all along 😈

She's insidious (ha-ha!)

So perfidious

That you haven't even noticed

And the pity is (the pity is)

Pity, pity, pity, pity

It's too late to fix anything

Now that everything has gone wrong

Thanks to Nada (ha!)

Naughty Nada

It's been Nada all along!

(gasps) And she killed Alberto, Federico, Gandia and Tatiana, too! 🎶

(Agatha All Along by Kristen Anderson-Lopez and Robert Lopez feat. Kathryn Hahn)

(FINALLY!!! You have no idea how long Ive been waiting to put this song. From ep 13 I wanted to do this)

Onto the Finale, Get ready to be reviewed :

Okay, so I dont wanna focus on the angsty part cause I've cried too much

My dog : Yep, you finished an entire tissue box

Me :

But Sergio and Martin are getting Brotp Rights and I am here for that

Raquel advising Andres to forgive Martin?! BEAUTIFUL

Silene, who has been trying to hide from Raquel for the past days, came as well.

She sat by his side and just put her arms around him, laying her head on his shoulder. He’s occasionally still amazed by her emotional honesty, how effortless it is for her to love and show it.

Okay, honestly? Silene is 80% redeemed in this telenova

Paula was drinking orange juice from a box, which doesn’t taste as nice as the one her mum makes, but she drank it anyway when Sergio sat by her side. She wasn’t exactly thinking it when she blurbed it out.

“I told you.”

“Hm?” he turned to her.

“That night, I told you it was Silene, and you didn’t listen to me.”

“Huh, yeah. Yeah, you did,” he said, “I’m sorry I didn’t listen to you, can you forgive me?” she looked down and he had his hand reached. He stared at her, which always creeps her out, but not so much this time, until she shook it. He smiled at her, a little sadly.

“Aren’t you going to punish her?”

“I don’t know yet. Maybe.”

“Maybe? She kidnapped my grandma!”

Sergio chuckled, nothing was funny. “Yes, but she only did it because she was scared for me. And she’s family.”

That made no sense to Paula but she said nothing.

“If you made a mistake, and you made it only because you believed something that turned out to not be true, wouldn’t you like Mama to forgive you? Wouldn’t you like me to tell you ‘ It’s okay, you won’t get grounded this time’ ?”

“Not if I stole someone’s grandma,” she murmured, she doesn’t even know why she would ever believe untrue things.

😍😍😍 Paula 😍😍😍 my girl saying nothing but facts 👏👏👏👏👏👏

Paula comforting Martin? So sweet, such a sweet girl, caeing about her both tios ❤❤❤

Also, that convo between them was so funny 🤣🤣🤣

“It seems every time he’s away from you, something terrible happens to him,”

This is what exactly happened in canon and no, I will accept otherwise

“Maybe. It’s not far-fetched to believe this entire family is cursed.”

🤣🤣🤣🤣 Aint that the truth?! 🤣🤣🤣🤣

Don’t be stupid,” he said, his voice hurt with every word. “Put it back on.”

Martín’s eyes brightened, “What?”

“I can’t repeat myself, Martín. Have some decency, I’m tired—” Marin caught the words from his mouth, pressing his lips to his. The cuts hurt, but he couldn’t help but kiss him back. He never could

TRUE LOVE RIGHT HERE!!! So cute, so beautiful, so sweet, so lovely. Ah! My sweet baby heart, be calm

Agatha and Alicia?! Ran off in sunset together with money and kids?!?! :

Daniel and Monica gonna get married?! :

"I just don't get it. I already have one."

No you don't, Sergio thinks, but he says nothing.

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 #awkward 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣

You can't have two dads!" she added, to which Martín snapped his head back from the chit-chattering he was engaged in with a ' hey!'

Andrés laughed, his arms around Martín’s waist. “Since when do you want to have kids?”

“I don’t but that’s not the point. You’re homophobic, Paula.”

“We didn’t have that talk with her yet, Martín.”

“What talk? She just attended our wedding! Should she see us—”

Sergio put his hands around her ears immediately as Raquel clasped her hand around his mouth.

Martin : My homophobic detecter senses are tingling

Martin, sweetie, no 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣. Please dont traumatise the kid further, save that exhibitism for Tatiana

Sergio just shook his head, but he couldn’t help but smile at them. He had been so preoccupied with the danger Martín proposed, he had missed to notice that he had never seen his brother as truly happy as he was him.

Well, Sergio's 100% redeemed in this telenova. Also, thank the Lord this asshole finally used his brains he known for.

“She’s with her uncles,” Raquel said, smugly, as she leaned back. “They took her to America, just sent us pictures, do you want to see?”

🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 I love a petty Raquel. Also I hc that Silene is grounded to her room with a black eye and a good beating 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣. Sergio tried to intervene but 1 glare made him back off

Tatiana laid bleeding out in Martín’s basement, alone.

Poetic justice, bruh, wonderful 👏👏👏

Also, please tell me they banged right in front of her or at the very least grossly made out 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 cause I know they are petty like that.

Andres & Martin on their honeymoon😍😍😍 with Paula 🤣🤣🤣 to Disneyland?!

Beautiful, my sweet Paula got everything she needed 😚

Actually, everyone has a win win case

But, how do they manage to bang, tho? Okay, I hc that Martin payed a lovely staff member named Ariadna to take care of her for the night while they go at it.

So, here ends my review and THANK YOU FOR THE HAPPY ENDING

This is embarrassingly late, forgive me. Things have a been a little all over the place. But YES, one last time (It's still the last. The fact that it was the last like two weeks ago is not to be focused on.)

First, thank you so much, Kal. For this time and all the ones before it, this has meant so much.

I love the song. I'm so glad you finally got to use it since it just made my life better since seeing it dedicated to me. It's hilarious and I love it.

Onto the finale, one last time.

You're right to! Enough angst, they got their happy ending and we should celebrate that.

(And greetings to your lovely dog! He has been an essential part of this journey and he should know it!!)

Oh yeah, the Raquel and Andrés part was my absolute favourite so I'm very happy you found it beautiful!

YES. So proud of her.

Paula got all the rights!

Paula and Martín are a pair I didn't expect to enjoy so much, so it was a super pleasant surprise.

Yes! It's canon. (Spoiler: Martín put a curse on Andrés and that's why he died in the mint.)

Ahhh so happy you enjoyed their reconciliation. They deserve it.

Yes!! All my three couples get their happy endings. (Serquel too who got free babysitting for like 3 weeks or so)

Oh god yes, the kid has been through enough Martín.

Ahhhh, I got Sergio redeemed! I feel like my work is done in this fandom. Everything is good now.

Oh yes and she deserves to be pitty. Silene is definitely grounded. Sergio couldn't even open his mouth.

YES. Well, they would have. But something tells me Tatiana wouldn't mind it as much.

Everyone gets their happy ending!!! Actually, I meant to elaborate more, but time sorta of ran out. I was going to give Monica and Denver an on-screen wedding as well. Julia is Daniel's best woman and Agustin is the one who walks Monica down the aisle.

Thank you so much for the review!!

#A Spanish Tale

1 note · View note

etherealxch · 7 years

Text

smitten

Word count: 2730

Character : Ong Seong Woo x Reader

I adjust the camera, so it captures a better angle of the person in front of it. I look up as the next person auditioning steps into the room. He gives me a courtesy smile and then turns to the director, producer and writer all sitting in a row, in front of him. I hurry to the side of the room after pressing record on the camera, and hold the script in my hands. He introduces himself and starts to act, with me playing the role opposite him. I’ll admit, he is a good actor but nothing we haven’t seen all day. As he gets to the climax of the story, he actually kneels down in frustration and bangs his forehead against the chair. I mean, like really hard. There’s literally a trail of blood on the chair and a line on the side of his head. I hurriedly put down the script as everyone asks worriedly, if he’s okay. I grab some tissues for him and he nods his thanks. The director and writer both express their awe of his acting skill and praises him for ‘staying in character’. The producer, looks down at her notes, then back up at the man, voicing out some concerns in his acting. He smiles politely and accepts her criticism but as he leaves the room, I see a flash of triumph in his eyes. I raise my eyebrows and inwardly, give a sigh. Not those kind of people again. Those actors, who think that they are passionate about acting; they act well but overboard. I mean, theatre and drama are all about well,drama. But it’s also about what the suitable emotion is in that particular scene. Anyway. Who am I to talk, I don’t know anything,I’m just here part time. “Is that all for today?” The director glances over his glasses. He flips through the forms on his clipboard. “Great! Let’s get some food!” The writer plonks on the cap of her pen and stretches her fingers. “I believe there’s another actor outside. He’s the last one for today.” The producer looks up from her phone and motions for me to call him in. I hear the director mumbling his annoyance and sighs,“Let’s just get this over with.” I head outside the small room and see a familiar young man, dressed in a yellow sweater and jeans. He is tall, I notice as he stands. I take a glance at his face and my heart skips a beat. He’s from my Literature class! He sees my face but if he recognizes me, he doesn’t show it. I’ve seen him on campus but we’ve never really talked before. I wonder why he’s here. I mean, other than to audition, since I’ve never seen him act. I didn’t even know he could act.

I tell him that he can go inside and he smiles nervously at me, before nodding to himself. I walk inside and get the camera ready for another take as he enters the room. The director, producer and writer stops talking and looks at him expectantly. I press record and he starts to introduce himself as Ong Seong Woo,when the director cuts him off sharply, saying that he has all his profile here, just show them what he has. I stifle a surge of irritation and look determinedly at my script. This is what always happens to the last person auditioning. I’ve gone to auditions, I know what it’s like to stand in front of the people who could make or break you. It’s intimidating enough without having them cut off your sentence and staring at you menacingly. I shoot a look of empathy at Seong Woo who looks awkward standing there, unsure of what to do next. The producer nods at him to continue. “I’ll be playing the opposite role, so just start whenever you’re ready.” He nods at me, smiling nervously again. He lets out a deep breath and starts to act. I start to respond when the director, again, rudely cuts across him. “Do you know method acting?” He asks, crossing arms on the table and squinting his eyes. Seong Woo nods nervously. He asks to go again. This time, he starts to act, clearly more expressive than the first time. But this time, the writer stops him, saying that he doesn’t understand the emotion of the role here. Seong Woo looks like a deer caught in headlights and nods, swallowing. He requests to go one more time. The director nods impatiently,“Hurry up.” “Do you think this is ok-” He starts, but again gets interrupted. The director starts complaining in frustration while Seong Woo just stands there, embarrassed. With a trembling voice, he asks to act for one last time. He sighs and closes his eyes. Then he starts to slap himself across the face, repeatedly and I look at him worriedly. He repeats the line over and over again. The director finally seems to acknowledge he is in the room. The producer leans back in her seat and observes this young man in front of her. “Food is here—” The door opens and a delivery guy walks in, unaware of the situation. Seong Woo stops in the middle of the line. I hurriedly pay for the food from the lunch allowance they give me for well, lunch and then apologise since it was my job to order the food and make sure it was delivered to reception. The director and writer, do not give a damn apparently, since they start laying out the food without commenting on Seong Woo’s fourth attempt. I steal a glance at Seong Woo, feeling bad for him. No one should be treated like that. The producer seems displeased by all these rude interruptions and frowns. She turns to the director and writer with a stony stare and asks if they think it is professional to eat while they are still auditioning. The director starts to reply while stuffing his mouth with a dumpling. Then, the unthinkable happens : Seong Woo walks up to the director and slaps his across the face, the dumpling falling out. I widen my eyes and stare at the scene unfolding in front of me. This cannot be real. As soon the realisation hits, his face is full of regret. The director reacts quickly and slaps his back across the face. He bows his head while listening to the director yell at him. The writer scoffs that young people these days don’t know how to control their temper. “I think it’s best that we leave this for today.” The producer speaks up. “We will contact you via text message if you have gotten a role. Also, I would like a word with you after.” Seong Woo, now speechless, nods numbly and bows deeply before leaving the room. I stop the recording and pretend I’m not eavesdropping on their conversation, which is really hard since the director is talking at full volume. I’m pretty sure Seong Woo can hear him outside too. “What kind of bastard does he think he is?” The director fumes, slamming his glasses down. “I told you, the last ones are always hot tempered, just because they think they’re all that.” The writer says. I roll my eyes at that. What kind of stupid logic is that? “It would, of course, help if everyone was paying attention to his acting.” The producer clears her throats and says evenly. “What he did did not help his case but I’m certain, it was because he felt that he was perhaps,ignored for Chinese food.” The producer raises her eyebrows. “Everyone should be treated the same, especially at auditions not because they are your nephews or some other special connection.” The director reddens and fumes up. “I wouldn’t like to think your niece-” He pauses meaningfully to look at me. I stare back at him. “Came to this part time job with your help.” “As a matter of fact,no.” The producer answers readily. “She came into the company completely on her own records and I only found out, as you very well know, yesterday. If you’d like to voice your opinion on that subject, why don’t we discuss the new IT guy?” The director is completely speechless and I hide a smug smile. Hah. Gotcha. He clears his throats uneasily and laughs. “Why don’t we take an early night today?” – “Okay, so just look at me and try not to look into the camera since it’s an interview. ” I say, flipping through my notepad and glancing up at Seong Woo. He nods, smiling at me. I press the record button and start to ask questions about him. Why he started doing this. Has he always been interested in acting. He starts answering me, occasionally stopping to think. I notice how he purses his lips when he concentrates and when he’s unsure about how to answer. “What makes you so sure you fit this role?” I ask,zooming in on his face slightly. He gives a small laugh. It sounds sad. “Well, I hope I can fit this role, because I think I have a few similarities with the main character, we’re both people who have lost something, betrayed by someone and I think I can connect to that emotion.” The last question :“What makes you a better actor?” He pauses, his easy demeanour seems to vanish. “I’m not a very good actor, as you would’ve seen in the audition, just now. Sometimes, I wish, I just wish that…I could be as into something as someone else. Everywhere I look, there are better actors than me, people who love acting way more than me and…sometimes,it’s easy to get discouraged but I guess,I just have to try harder.” To my astonishment, his eyes are red and tears are rolling down his cheek. I stop recording and hand him tissues. “I’m sorry.” I say quietly. He looks up, embarrassed. “About what?” I open my mouth but no words come out. How do I tell him what I’m sorry for? That he seems like a decent person and I’m sorry he had to go through this shit audition? Why am I even feeling bad for him? I’ve never felt bad for others who came to audition before and were treated worse than this. “Nothing. Nevermind.” I shake my head. He smiles, confused but nods anyway. We both stand and I thank him for his time and he says no problem. “Um,” Seong Woo pauses. He looks around. “Well, thanks I’ll be off now.” I nod at him while folding the camera stand. I hear him walk away but a minute later, he turns back and taps me on my shoulder.

“I’ve seen you on campus, right?” He asks.

“Oh, uh, yeah. We have literature together.” Wow, so he knows.

“Oh, okay, ‘cause I thought I’d seen you somewhere before.” He chuckles softly. “Well, thanks for everything today.” He grins and my heart skips a beat again. I stare at his retreating back and shake my head.

I’ve been working too hard.

“What are you gonna get?” My closest friend, Eun Ho nudges me while eyeing up the menu. “The ribs look soo good. But I’m really craving for spicy food.” I smile at her indecisiveness. I point to the menu board and tell her to just choose one.

“It’s not like your life depends on it, okay?” I laugh. She rolls her eyes and flicks her hair back. We get our food and find a seat by the window. She starts telling me about her class this morning and I’m in the middle of laughing at her imitation of a professor. A tap on my shoulder nearly makes me choke on my food. I cough violently and take a big gulp of water. I turn and find myself face to face with the offender: Ong Seong Woo.

“Hi, um, sorry about that” He smiles awkwardly.

“Hey.” I flush and swallow.

“I just wanted to tell you-“ He holds up his phone, his voice unable to mask his excitement. “I got the part!”

“Wow-”I smile, genuinely happy for him. “That’s great!”

There’s an awkward pause between us when no one says anything.

“Well, I should let you get back to your lunch!” He says, gesturing to my food. He glances back at me and walks out of the cafeteria hurriedly. I turn back in my seat and see Eun Ho looking at me with eyes as wide as saucers. I avoid her look and focus on eating.

“What?”

“Um, how about who, what and how-?” She asks, her chopsticks set down. I shrug and tell her everything that happened during work.

“ARE YOU SERIO-“I kick her in the shins. “-uss?” I nod in answer to her question.

“Was he any good at it?”

“He got the part, I would think he did okay.” I deadpan.

“But he slamnmff-“ I reach across the table and cover her mouth.

“Shut up.” I raise my eyebrows. She takes the hint.

“Alright, alright.” She backs off contritely. “Bet you thought he was cute.” I roll my eyes and shove a spoonful of food into my mouth, to show that I disagree with her.

I flashback to when he smiled and my heart skips yet another beat. I really should exercise more often.

The funny thing is, after that day, I keep running into him on campus grounds. I see him in class, in the library and in the cafeteria. We make some small talk but the weird thing was, I keep feeling nervous when I talk to him. I involuntarily break into a smile at the thought of him. I flush easily when he says something to make me laugh.

But I like it, this kind of feeling. Although I’m not quite sure what this emotion is.

“Hey!”

I turn around and see Seong Woo running up to me.

“Are you free right now?” He asks, slightly out of breath.

“Yeah, why?” I ask.

He holds up his script and sort of waves it in the air. “Would you mind helping me with my lines?” He grins.

Aw, his smile is so cute.

“Sure, where should we rehearse?” I ask, any thought of an afternoon nap long gone. We head to the Garden, where there’s a lovely small rose cove sort of section. There are a few empty benches and a few students are walking along the garden path, which is artistically paved like it was made for a Shakespeare movie. We find a bench that’s a bit more tucked away from other people and sit down.

“You’re getting really good at this!” I say, after we’ve finished going over the lines. He smiles, scratching the back of his neck.

“I hope so. I don’t think the director has warmed up to me just yet.” At the mention of the director, I burst into laughter.

“I still can’t believe you did that.” I take a sip of water and shake my head, smiling.

“You know, there are many things that I would do. You just don’t know it yet.” He wiggles his eyebrows comically. I scoff and laugh.

“It’s such a pity you want to be an actor; you’re much more suited to be a comedian.” I joke. He tilts his head and considers this.

“I do like making people laugh but it’s the actors who earn the big bucks.” He makes a money gesture at the end.

“You are such a surprise, you know?” I look at him. “Totally not the guy who I thought you were.”

“Have you been thinking about me?” He asks suddenly, leaning close to me. My face heats up and I start stuttering.

“Ju-Just you know, not what I expected.” I swallow. “Oh, look, a bird.” I add lamely, trying to change the subject. He calls my name softly and I turn, my face coming close to his. He slowly reaches up and removes a leaf from my hair. He smiles and my stomach does a nervous flip.

“I’ve been meaning to ask, would you like to go on a date with me this Friday?”

“’ea,” My voice comes out like a squeak. “I mean, sure, yeah.”

Alright, alright, I’ll admit : I was smitten from the moment I first saw him.

[Author’s Note: This is something I’ve written in two days. It’s not much. But my writer’s block, schoolwork and other stuff have been preventing me from writing anything for the last year and a half. I hope you guys can give me some feedback since this is the first time in almost two years since I’ve written anything like this, so I am SUPER rusty and would love to know how to improve. This story is based on Seong Woo’s vlive short film and I recently just got into Wanna One and well, I thought this might be fun. I hope you guys like it and send me some feedback y’all!]

#kpop scenarios #wanna one #ong seong woo scenarios #ong seong woo #wanna one scenarios #seong woo imagines #wanna one imagines #produce 101 #produce 101 scenarios

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