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sheisjoeschateau · 3 months

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"Oh, so we DO love Steve..." | PART I

Steve Harrington x Bauman!fem!reader enemies to lovers, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, upside down mayhem, S2-S4, post S4 universe hot-take, end-of-the-world / dystopian setting, ugly fights turned smut (...but with hella plot). 18+

WHEN THE UNEXPECTED NIECE OF MURRAY BAUMAN GETS THROWN IN THE MIX, THE GANG HAS NO IDEA JUST WHAT THEY'RE IN FOR. SCRATCH THAT - STEVE DOESN'T KNOW. YOU GET ALONG WITH EVERYONE WELL. YOU BANTER WITH THE ADULTS, WHO APPRECIATE YOUR HELP. THE KIDS LOVE AND WORSHIP YOU. YOU'RE HELPFUL ALL AROUND. BUT AS FAR AS STEVE IS CONCERNED, YOU'RE JUST NUISANCE. AFTER ALL, YOU'RE THE REASON HE LOST THE LOVE OF HIS LIFE AND MISSED OUT ON A LIFE THAT "COULD'VE BEEN." IF YOU HAD JUST KEPT YOUR SORRY ASS OUT OF THE PICTURE... IF YOU HAD NEVER GONE WITH NANCY AND JONATHAN AFTER THEY LEFT YOUR WHACK-JOB UNCLE, MURRAY BAUMAN'S, BUNKER? HE WOULD BE HAPPY. SO F*CKING HAPPY. BUT HERE YOU WERE. YOU WERE BASICALLY THE COOLER (...AND SURE, MUCH MORE ATTRACTIVE) FEMALE VERSION OF MURRAY BAUMAN. YOU WERE SARCASTIC, QUICK-WITTED, TOO SMART FOR YOUR OWN GOOD, AND APPARENTLY BUILT FOR THE WAR. SURE, YOU WEREN'T AS BRASH AS YOUR UNCLE. BUT IN STEVE'S EYES, YOU WERE SOMEHOW FAR MORE OBNOXIOUS. HE DOWNRIGHT HATED YOU. HE WILL FOREVER HATE YOU... BUT WILL HE?

DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BE COPIED AND/OR REPOSTED ON HERE OR ANY OTHER PLATFORM, OR PUT INTO ANY AI PROGRAMS. THIS IS AN 18+ BLOG, MDNI.

An original fanfiction series, written by Misha St. James.

⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ SERIES MASTERLIST ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

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I did not proof-read this after Tumblr gave me hell trying to share. So pls excuse possible typos. hehe

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Let's just get to the point, shall we?

Once upon a time, a young boy named Will Byers went missing. Later, he was found in an alternate dimension by the world's #1 mom and a cynical cop turned hero. A girl with a shaved head had telekinetic superpowers, befriend's Will's four loyal friends along the way and helping them track down their missing party member. Then, whatever the hell was on the other side - whatever was in this...upside down...took back Eleven. She'd been missing ever since that dreadful winter.

Fast forward to now: you're sitting in your uncle's bunker, looking at his wild display of efforts. Papers, files, whiteboards covered in multiple words, arrows, sketches - all in different colored markers. Murray Bauman was on a mission, and he would be damned if that grumpy, cynical smart-ass known as Jim Hopper honestly thought that he could dismantle his efforts. Nice try, chum. Game on. Thankfully, you'd gone to school with Barbara Holland. That's whose parents had assigned the task of searching for her to your uncle. Murray was asking you tons of questions, and you were glad to help. It meant spending time with the only family member you cared for, despite his wackiness. You guys got each other. Bantered well. Got shit done. Honestly, it was also a great way of drinking safely and not with a bunch of rowdy teenagers at some stupid party. You got along just fine with everyone at school. But damn, they could all be annoying. ...especially Steve fucking Harrington, who was now the topic of conversation. You know, given that his house is where Barbara was last seen. "It just isn't making sense," your uncle huffed, raking his hands through his oily dark hair. You sipped on the glass of vodka that your uncle had poured you, hissing at the strong taste. Leaning across the coffee table, seated on his couch, you tried to connect the dots with him. "I'm telling you, someone in that group of teens knows what's up. Or at least has an idea." Your uncle swigged at his vodka, defeated but ruthlessly trying to piece together his clusterfuck of scattered evidence across his wall. "Well then, guess we better grill 'em."

And that's how you come into the picture. When Nancy and Jonathan came to seek out Murray. And when they arrive, they're surprised to see you. They recognize you from school. Jonathan took several classes with you. In fact, the two of you got along well at Hawkins High. No, you weren't close. But you both were cool. Nancy, on the other hand, didn't know anything about you. Just that you took political science with Barbara, and got straight A's across the board. You could've been class valedictorian. But you were not looking for any sort of title that demanded pressure or attention. At least not in high school. Career wise? Sure. Not here, though. Not Hawkins. "Your timeline is wrong," Nancy is saying, making you and Bauman freeze. Nancy is telling you that the girl with the buzzed hair is not Russian. She is, in fact, from Hawkins lab. And her name is...Eleven? So they do know something. And something turns out to be everything.

Jonathan sits you both down to relay everything to you both. And woof, does it give you guys a headache. Strangely, though... it makes a whole lot more sense than some mundane explanation of sorts. Obviously though, that puts you all in a tough spot where you'll all need to put your heads together. So the two classmates of yours stay, sharing in chilled Smirnoff and having to endure the hilarity that ensues between you and your uncle. You and Murray both banter well with the two of them. Jonathan finds you to be hilarious. Nancy finds you intimidating. Very intimidating. You’re quick witted, darkly humored and independent. But there is a reserved, mysterious sort of feminine energy to you, despite your more masculine strengths and bluntness. Over glasses of stiff vodka, you all come to the conclusion on how to go about exposing the truth about Barbara Holland's disappearance: water it down.

At the end of the night, you're all winding down -- you and your uncle having convinced the two lovebirds to stay. But when you're telling them they can take your uncle's guest room while you take the couch, Jonathan's asking if he can take the couch. You blink. Huh? ...surely Nancy is not still with --

"Okay, I'm confused," your uncle's saying. "What's going on here? Lovers quarrel?"

You cock an eyebrow, leaning back into the loveseat.

But Jonathan and Nancy are then talking over each other with weird, flustered excuses...saying they're just friends.

You and your uncle bust out laughing. And then you're shrinking back in your seat, knowing what's coming: one of your Uncle Murray's lovebird witchdoctor speeches that he barrels into anytime that two delusional people have convinced themselves that they aren't in love. Or at the very least, not into each other.

Uncle Murray is breaking them down, one at a time. He's reading Jonathan like an angsty teen novel, seeing right through him and his brooding, mysterious energy. Trust issues, thanks to daddy issues. Yikes, that makes you sip some more drink.

And then he's onto Nancy, saying that she's harder to read. But he manages anyway. It's the Bauman way.

He's telling her that she's likely like everyone else, "afraid of what would happen if you accepted yourself for you who you really are." He looks at you. "Am I in the right ballpark?"

You nod, swallowing the last drop of vodka in your cup. "That...and afraid of that might happen if she didn't retreat back to the safety of someone familiar."

Nancy looks bewildered. But more than that, she looks caught.

"Name?" your uncle is prodding, snapping his fingers. "Name."

You and Jonathan both say it. "Steve."

Uncle Murray's face is priceless. He feigns adoration, putting on a baby voice as he repeats the name. "Dawh. Steve. We like Steve."

"Yes," Nancy laughs nervously. Eek, you think.

"But we don't love Steve..." Your uncle's words floor Nancy.

And when Nancy's saying something about still being with Steve, insisting that she loves him, you roll your eyes. Even scoffing, getting her attention. Maybe if the vodka weren't in your system, you wouldn't be so bold. But Jonathan's mopey look just gives you more confidence.

"Boom, ladies and gents," you say with a grin. "Second lie of the evening." "The hell was the first one?" Jonathan asks, blinking. "You guys being just friends." You and your uncle say something along the same lines, simultaneously. You both laugh together, clinking glasses. The two not lovebirds just squirm awkwardly in their seats. Finally, you sigh. "Look. You guys don't wanna give up the ghost? Be my guest. I'll happily keep my bed." You stand up, ready to turn in. But not until casting them one last work, pointing a finger. "But if I were you two? I'd cut the bullshit and just share the damn bed." Murray snorts, rising to stand as well. He stretches. "Welllllp. I'm turning in for the night." You begin mounting the stairs, hollering: "Better act fast, kiddos. At least before this poison in my system knocks me out cold. Don't worry, Nancy, I don't snore. So if you do choose me, you're safe." "But that's so lame," Murray adds to that wryly, heading off to his room. You both tell each other goodnight, leaving the two angsty teens to decide their fate. All you know is that Nancy ends up walking out and not coming back, at one point in the night. Yeah, thought so. Breakfast the next morning is even more hilarious. You and your uncle ask every single question that drips with innuendo that you ever possibly could. And it's worth every fucking minute.

Murray's gonna need to keep that couch cleaned. To your surprise, Murray sends you off with Nancy and Jonathan, but given that you want to go and see it all for yourself you don't mind. You’re basically his little spy. Most uncles send off their nieces and nephews with some good advice, maybe a packed lunchbox or snacks, and a warm hug.

Yours, however, sends you off with a full bottle of vodka, a thick wad of cash and some fun sarcastic banter. But he headlocks you in for a hug, and you cackle. He really is a nutcase, and man you can't help but love him. He is so not the parental type. Yet somehow, he's practically raised you. And in your opinion, you're pretty well-prepared for the world. More than most, in Murray's opinion. So off you go with Nancy Wheeler and Jonathan Buyers, and they both honestly enjoy your company. It helps them get past their umm...well...awkward new reality. That new reality that comes post-sex, after a long ass time of playing the tip-toe game. The sexual tension between them is hysterical to you. But you keep your thoughts to yourself for now. The vodka did most of the talking for you last night.

When you both arrive at wherever the hell your destination is, it's dark outside. And if you're being honest, it's pretty creepy. You're somewhere near the woods, and as you all walk closer you're beginning to see lights approaching you...along with a handful of shadowed figures.

Fuck, you literally just got here.

But then, after a tense several moments... Nancy and Jonathan call out to them. You jump, startled at the fact that they do it so confidently. But the name that they call out suddenly makes it all make sense. "STEVE?" "NANCY...?" And that's how you became a crucial part of the most royal pain in the ass, King Steve's, life.

#steve harrington angst #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington stranger things #steve harrington smut

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the-ace-with-spades · 1 month

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Random headcanons for Ghost and Soap (and Ghostsoap) part 1

- Soap has the habit of placing his hand on the small of Ghost's back. It looks adorable because next to Ghost, everyone looks tiny and yet Soap oozes such confidence that Ghost feels small whenever he has Johnny's hand directing him by pressing into the small of his back, sometimes Johnny's thumb is rubbing little circles over his spine. He always blushes, too.

- On the other hand, Ghost has a habit of pulling Soap by the hip any time he's about to get himself in trouble. Someone says some shit, Soap turns to the side and opens his mouth and Ghost just reaches his arm across his back and with his fingers digging into the v curve of hip steering him away before he can open his big mouth and get himself in trouble. This is inspired by the Tom Holland&Zendaya photos

- Ghost is always cold, Soap is always hot. It looks absolutely comical during spring when they go out - Ghost has warm sweats and jacket and a hoodie and a hat/mask on and Soap is in shorts and a hoodie with cut-off sleeves. Gaz calls it Soap's slut behaviour

- This means Ghost is a blanket hog. They often sleep in the same bed but separately because Soap just feels too hot to cuddle up under the warmest duvet available in store which is Ghost's preferred one.

- They are decent cooks but Ghost is better at cooking and Soap is better at baking. They also have different cooking styles - Ghost cooks to relax and doesn't stress about the results and Soap takes cooking as a challenge.

- Ghost doesn't get jealous, really. He's too in control to get jealous and he's the ride or die kinda guy so he's put all of his trust into Soap and is used to Soap's overfriendly, borderline flirty personality. It's endearing to him.

- Soap, on the other hand, is a jealous beast. Recruits, other teams officers, strangers in a bar, anyone who gets Ghost's attention or tries to get Ghost's attention, Soap always struts in and stands way too close and asserts his position as soon as he notices. Ghost pretends it's annoying but he finds it cute (he's never had anyone get jealous over him).

- Soap never stops calling Ghost per sir. Not when they're on leave, not when they retire. Sometimes it happens in public and because Soap only calls him sir when he's feeling cheeky, he sounds really bratty and people make their (dirty) assumptions.

- Soap is not a fan of Valentine's Day. Ghost likes to pretend he isn't either, but in the week before the day, he'd do small romantic gifts/gestures every day.

- Soap is the 'leaves his dirty socks on the floor' kinda guy, meaning he never puts back stuff in its rightful place, has tons of dirty mugs lying around, piles of sketchbooks and books and about a dozen of pencil cases, he forgets to make the bed, doesn't fold the laundry for days after taking it out of the dryer, just leaving in the corner in the kitchen. Ghost feels tested when they move in together because he's a neat freak.

- Soap is a hairy beast. He's got dark thick hair everywhere - his chest, back, arms, the happy trail, the other happy trail that goes down his inner thighs. He'd have to shave twice a day if he had to keep a clean-shaven look.

- Ghost is not exactly hairy but also not hairless, it's just that the majority of his body hair is very pale.

- Ghost unironically likes Vimto. His favourite takeaway is Chinese and he actually likes beans on toast for breakfast and scotch eggs. He, however, can't understand how Soap can eat oats for breakfast every day.

- Ghost does, in fact, have a soft tum. Soap also has a healthy layer of fat over muscles but Ghost doesn't really have the abs shape - he's teddy bear shaped.

- Ghost feeds stray cats scraps of meat any time he cooks off base.

- Soap definitely has ADHD. He doesn't shut up and his mind is brilliant but very scattered.

#sometimes i also headcanon ghost as trans but that's a whole another post #simon ghost riley #john soap mactavish #ghostsoap #ghoap #cod #q #op

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piratekane · 1 year

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She’s bone-tired, aches in places she didn’t know could ache and muscles stretched out in a way they haven’t been for a long time. Since her physical therapy, at least. The rock climbing a few weeks ago certainly hadn’t helped, but there was no way she was going to stay with her feet rooted to the floor. Not when she could climb up 15 feet and hang there like Spider-man. Better than Spider-man.

Suck it, Tom Holland.

She paid for it later, though, and spent the next day letting her body remember how to stretch, going through yoga poses and washing her breakfast down with ibuprofen.

It was worth it, still, to see the look on Bea’s friend’s faces. Mary was impressed, clapping her on the shoulder when she got to the bottom and telling Camila - who made it up the wall the fastest - that she had competition. Even Lilith regarded her with a level of approval that Ava ate up. She’s going to make Lilith like her. Or at least smile politely, even if it is with all her teeth.

But it was Bea’s face that made it even better.

She hasn’t known Bea long - she’s known others longer, including that one cafeteria lady who always saves her a side of mac and cheese because Ava said one time that it was her favorite - but she already knows that a big part of her wants to impress Bea. She can’t quite put it into words. There’s something about Bea that makes Ava want to show off. Maybe it’s because one thing she’s learned about Beatrice is that her smiles are fleeting. Ava wants to collect every one of them.

She’ll have a lot of opportunities, now that Bea is her friend and her roommate.

“Where do you want this one?” Beatrice asks from the doorway. She’s holding a paper box with tons of smiley faces drawn on it in a thick-tipped permanent marker. There’s a method to her packing madness, but Ava is big enough to admit that she has no idea what’s in this particular box.

“Here is fine.” She shifts in the computer chair Bea got her, a slight pinch in her back.

Bea looks down at the last few inches of floor where Ava points and frowns. “How will you get out?”

Ava lifts her legs, wiggling her socked toes. “I’ll jump. Have you jumped on this bed? Is it a solid bed for jumping?”

“Jumped on the…” Beatrice blinks at her. “No, Ava. I haven’t jumped on the bed.”

Ava shrugs. “You’re missing out. My dorm room was not good jumping material. When’s the last time you jumped on a bed?”

“Nev-never.”

Her mouth drops open. “Never?” She immediately frowns. Beatrice wasn’t kidding when she told her that her life hadn’t been normal kid stuff and her parents were hardly around. They had that in common: a girl who lived in an orphanage and a girl who grew up alone. It makes her a little sad for Bea. “We have to fix this.”

“I am not jumping on the bed,” Bea says firmly.

Ava shrugs. Today is not the day, and tomorrow won’t be either, but soon. She stands and stretches her arms above her head, immediately dropping them so that her shirt doesn’t ride up any higher. Bea seems like the kind of girl who appreciates a little modesty. Ava can do that. Or, she can try really hard to do that.

“I am officially all moved in.” She grins, surveying her kingdom. There’s a desk in one corner, left behind by Bea’s roommate who went to study abroad and didn’t come back. A nightstand by the bed has her lamp and her hat on it. She’ll have to hang her clothes, fill the dresser, find a few posters to put up on the walls. But it’s hers. “So, roomie, what’s next?”

Bea looks around, clasping her hands behind her. “I believe those are all your things.”

“Except for the kitchen stuff.”

“Yes.” There’s a faint smile on Bea’s face and Ava feels a thrill, knowing she put it there. “How could I forget your… hot dog maker.”

“Not sure. It’s fire engine red.” But she looks around too. “I think we’re done. Now we can get ready for movie night!”

A proper end to moving day. Movie night with an Ava-curated predetermined list, tons of drinks and movie theater popcorn and Bea’s friends. She had hesitantly suggested it to Bea a few days ago. She’d never done a movie night and her College Experiences bucket list clearly had it marked as item #8. But Bea had said yes almost immediately, and Ava went to work, making a list of options in between packing and classes and meals with Bea and her friends.

They’re going to be my friends, she decides. That’s on her bucket list too.

Now she just needed them to get here. The minutes have been dragging on as she’s waited as patiently as possible. But time didn’t seem to be cooperating. It’s doing its best to drag its heels. Ava wants to grab it by the neck and shake it.

Bea seems to notice that. “They’ll be here soon.” She says it very patiently, like she already knows Ava does terrible with waiting. And Ava likes that. She likes that Bea is paying attention to her enough to notice these things.

Bea’s going to be a great roommate. Ava wants to be just as good. She looks around her room, satisfied. She can unpack later - there’s enough space to get from the bed to the door and Bea insisted she make the bed first, almost like she knew that Ava was going to stack everything in insurmountable piles and try her best to get around them.

See? she thinks. She knows me already.

She’s about to say that, to tell Bea that she’s already killing this ‘best roommate’ contest that Bea doesn’t know they’re having, when someone knocks on the door. Once, twice, three times.

Ava does jump on the bed this time, beating Beatrice to the door and pulling it open to find Camila on the other side.

Ava beams. “Movie night!”

“Is the whole movie about… biking?” Lilith makes it seem like a swear word.

Ava grins, shoves a handful of popcorn into her mouth, and says, “id bub nimnasts.” Everyone turns to her. She swallows and smiles more sheepishly this time. “It’s about gymnastics.”

Lilith heaves a long-suffering sound. “Gymnastics.” It’s really a testament to her disdain for everyday things, that everything that comes out of her mouth sounds like she’s spitting it from between her teeth. But then the running biker rips off her helmet and it’s Missy Peregrym and even Lilith seems interested.

Ava gets it. She does. This is peak Missy Peregrym. And it only gets better. She stops watching the movie when Missy Peregrym’s character, Haley, finds her way back to the gym and on Vanessa Lengies’ character, Joanne’s, last nerve and starts watching the room instead. Onscreen, Haley pretends to be on the phone while Joanne stomps her foot angrily, and Mary snorts, lips curled up in a smile, and that’s when Ava knows this is a good choice.

She wants to impress them so badly. It consumes her. Partly because she thinks they’re really cool, even Lilith. And partly because she thinks Bea is amazing and these people agree. Sister Frances always told her to stop wasting her time and do everyone the favor of aligning herself with the right people. Ava is pretty sure she was saying it to get rid of her, to go out and be someone else’s problem, but Ava thinks she found the right people all the same.

“Isn’t that the guy from Twilight?” Camila asks, abandoning her popcorn. Ava meets Bea’s eyes and smiles. Bea shakes her head fondly at Camila and Ava wonders when she’ll get the same look. Someday, she thinks. She looks back at Camila, leaning forward in her seat on the bean bag chair she wrestled through their front door earlier. “He’s the cute one, I think. The other one kind of freaked me out. I don’t think he ever blinked.”

Their front door. Ava’s heart beats a little harder.

Ava could go into detail about Twilight - it was basically contraband at the orphanage. But they’re in the middle of a movie. And she thinks Lilith might actually throw a soda at her. She doesn’t think Bea would appreciate the mess. So that’s a Camila-and-Ava conversation for later.

“Yikes. Ice baths.” Shannon shudders. “I used to do those in high school, during the season. Need a wake up call? Submerge yourself in a metal tub of ice cubes.” She points her entire soda towards the screen. “Though, I never looked like that doing it.”

Mary snakes her arm across the back of Shannon’s shoulder. “No, you didn’t.”

Ava slaps her hand over her mouth to keep in her laugh but Shannon rolls her eyes and elbows Mary gently. “You’re right. I looked better.”

“Damn right you did.” Mary meets Ava’s eye and smirks. It feels like a secret between them. That swelling feeling in her chest reaches a crescendo.

She shoves another handful of popcorn into her mouth and spares a glance at Bea, finding that Bea is already looking back at her. She inhales, nearly choking on a kernel. Bea sits forward, worry on her face, but Ava holds up a hand, stopping her. She swallows a few times, washes down what she can with her soda, and takes a deep breath.

“Do you like it?” Ava whispers, aware that she can be too loud sometimes.

Bea has to lean closer to hear her. “It’s entertaining.”

Ava’s eyes narrow. She doesn’t know what that word means to Bea yet. Sometimes entertaining means not good, and sometimes it means the best thing I’ve watched in my whole life. She’s still learning to read her.

“Good,” Bea fills in. Ava exhales in relief. “Gymnastics takes a considerable amount of skill.”

“You could do it,” Ava says confidently. She nods when Bea goes to argue with her. “I saw you rock climbing. And all the martial arts you talk about? I bet you could beat Nastia Liukin.”

Bea’s cheeks might redden but Ava can’t tell in the dim light. “Actual Olympic gold medalist Nastia Liukin? I doubt that.”

Ava shrugs. “Guess we’ll have to call her and find out. But my money's on you.”

Lilith shushes them, glaring. Ava puts one hand up in surrender and grins at Bea when Lilith turns back to the movie. She pushes the popcorn back to Bea and waits expectantly. Bea is much more graceful than Ava, picking out a few pieces delicately. Ava doesn’t offer the same grace; she shoves her hand in and grabs as much as she can.

“Wait, her mom cheated on her dad with her coach?” Lilith doesn’t pull her eyes away from the screen, but scoffs. “Pathetic.”

Camila claps when it ends, grinning. Ava matches her smile, looking around excitedly.

She pats herself on the shoulder mentally, though her hand itches to do it physically. She made a good choice, a strong start. She stands up, twists her back side to side so she can stretch it out, and grins. “Who wants more popcorn?”

She waits until a quiet moment, after everyone has been settled into movie and Bea has finished what Ava is sure to be the first of many comments on the historical validity of The Mummy before she says:

“This movie was my bisexual awakening.”

There’s a cough and sputter from her left where Beatrice is sitting. She thinks about reaching out and giving her a friendly whack on the back, to clear out whatever has gotten stuck in her windpipe, but Mary laughs so loudly, Ava just ends up grinning instead.

Lilith eyes her critically. “Brendan Fraser isn’t the worst you could do, I suppose.”

It’s a glowing compliment coming from Lilith. Ava files it away for the next time she inevitably says something that isn’t.

Camila leans her head back, staring at Ava upside down. “Rachel Weisz is my ‘if I had to pick a girl’.”

“Fraser is not the guy I’d pick,” Mary says firmly. “I’m more of an Usher kind of girl.”

Shannon shrugs. “I think I’d take Mummy-Fraser over Tarzan-Fraser. The long hair is… Eh.”

The TV flickers, brightening the room as Rick O’Connell crosses the screen with a torch in his hand. Ava turns expectantly to Bea. “What about you?”

“What about-” Bea’s voice is slightly squeaky, if Ava had to put a word to it. Almost as if she doesn’t know where to break the syllables. “This movie was not my bisexual awakening,” she finally says.

“Well, of course not.” Ava reaches over and does touch Bea this time, patting her knee gently. “I assume you’d be too focused on the truth of all this history stuff to even focus on either of them.” She smiles warmly. “Am I right?”

Everyone seems to be looking at the two of them. Ava feels the room tip a little. She’s suddenly worried she said the wrong thing. She just thought, with Mary and Shannon clearly dating, that it’d be okay to say something like that. They seem to be open enough, not shying away from each other. But maybe she shouldn’t have. Or maybe it’s the movie choice. Catherine Zeta-Jones and Antonio Banderas also had something good going on.

Bea stares and Ava starts to count the seconds as they stretch.

“I’m not—” Bea begins haltingly, then stops.

A tendril of panic curls around Ava’s chest. She just assumed. Sure, Bea never explicitly said she liked girls, but Ava isn’t usually wrong about this kind of stuff. Maybe she did get it wrong. Or maybe she just said it too loud. She has a tendency to barrel head first into things without thinking.

Bea clears her throat. “I suppose…” Her eyes dart over Ava’s shoulder to where Mary and Shannon are. Ava looks, smiling a little, still confused. “I suppose… Rachel Weisz is someone a person might find appealing.”

“Attractive,” Ava corrects, slightly relieved that she didn’t read Bea incorrectly. “And good choice.” She nods in total agreement. Bea’s taste is up there.

She shoves her hand into the candy bowl that’s replaced the popcorn. M&Ms in this bowl, but Bea has Junior Mints. She looks up, mouth full, and finds Bea still staring back at her. An M&M falls out of her mouth and lands in her hand. She feels her face flush and she quickly tosses it back in.

Lilith’s face is twisted in disgust. There goes that good favor. But Mary and Shannon are looking at her too, and Ava gets a weird feeling in the pit of her stomach.

“I’m sorry,” she says slowly. “I think I said something wrong.” Even though she has no clue what that might be. Her worry that she’s made Bea uncomfortable by talking about her sexuality rises again in her head.

There’s quiet for a moment before Bea says, “No.” She reaches forward like she’s trying to get Ava to understand something but her hand hovers over Ava’s, the one with a small chocolate smudge on it, and she pulls it back into her own lap. “You don’t mind?”

“Mind…” Ava blinks, looks back again. Mary is staring at her and there’s a slight edge she hasn’t seen before. “That you like Rachel Weisz?” No one says yes or no and she’s still so confused. “I totally don’t mind, if that’s what you think. Like I said.” She points both of her thumbs back at herself and tries to smile in a way she knows is charming. “Awakening.”

Bea’s face is pinched, though. Ava has the strongest urge to press her hands to it and smooth it out. Mary clears her throat and Bea’s face does it all on its own.

“I mean, I’d still be okay with it if you liked Patricia Velasquez better,” Ava admits. “The gold costume was…” She whistles low and reaches out a hand, nudging Bea in the shoulder. Bea sways away and back in again stiffly, but she seems to be breathing out.

Ava exhales. She looks back over her shoulder and Mary is still looking at her but she’s smiling too, nodding once at her. Whatever test that was, she knows she passed it. And honestly, Bea can’t go wrong with either choice. And if she is into someone like Patricia Velasquez, Ava knows a girl in her Humanities class who can pull off that same kind of eyeliner.

She offers Bea the bowl of M&Ms silently, gesturing for the Junior Mints. Bea hands it over slowly, her eyes still searching Ava’s face. She hopes Bea finds whatever she’s looking for. Because she wants to show Bea that she’s someone to trust, that Bea made a good decision, and that moving in was something that was going to be great.

She smiles encouragingly and Bea smiles back, ducking her head slightly. Ava turns back to the TV screen, silently passing Camila the bowl of Junior Mints in return for the Skittles.

“Actually,” Bea says quietly, almost as if she’s only talking to Ava. “Did you know that Medjay, the Pharoh’s bodyguards in the movie, actually refers to people from the land of Medja. It was believed to be located in Nubia, near the Second Nile Cataract.”

Ava abandons the screen, turning to Bea now. “How do you know this stuff?”

Bea shrugs a shoulder. “I like knowing things.”

“We’re finding a trivia night and going out,” Ava decides. Lilith shushes her and she ignores it. “The brains between you, Shannon, and Camila, plus my good looks, Mary’s brawn, and the whole… scary thing Lilith has going on, we’ll clean up.”

Bea smiles fully this time. A pillow hits Ava in the side of the head but it doesn’t stop her from smiling back at Bea before snatching the pillow off the floor and holding onto it until Lilith wrestles it out of her hands ten minutes later.

They’ve moved onto pizza by the time Atlantis queues up on the TV. Six different boxes sit open on the breakfast bar, greasy plates on the floor and coffee table. Ava rests a hand on her stomach, her whole body stretched out and her socked feet dangerously close to a mushroom sliding around in a puddle of grease. She peers down. Bea’s plate is full of mushrooms, picked out from the other toppings.

Huh. No mushrooms. Maybe Bea does have a flaw.

“I dated a guy who looked like Milo once,” Camila offers. “Soft spoken, too.” She squints, looking into the middle distance. “I think his name was Ted.”

“Ted.” Mary wrinkles her nose. “There was a Ted in my Women’s Safety class freshman year. Thought it was an easy A and he’d get to feel up a few girls.” She scoffs. “He sure felt my fist in his stomach.”

Ava lifts an arm in solidarity, her whole body weighed down with hot dough and spicy tomato sauce. “I beat up someone once. When I was 6. He broke my ant farm.” She gets a sudden burst of energy as damp anger flows through her. She sits up. “I was the one who got in trouble though, the little jerk.”

Lilith pushes a piece of half-eaten veggie pizza towards Ava. Ava’s stomach protests, but the mushrooms are just that good, so she takes it and polishes off the rest of it. Lilith is warming up to her and Ava revels in it. It’s all part of her master plan to win Lilith over, one small step at a time.

With the understanding, of course, that she’s going to go backwards more than she goes forward. But she can tell how much Lilith means to Beatrice and she can play the long game. It’ll be a good exercise in patience.

“What about you, Beatrice? Beat a lot of people up? I know you can, like, kill a man with your bare hands.”

Lilith snorts. “Beatrice would never.”

Ava grins. “So you would?”

“No,” Bea says loudly over Lilith opening her mouth. “Our training is for self-defense. I have never found any reason to escalate a fight outside of tournaments and educational exercises.” She sees Ava’s eyes tracking the table and nudges the plate of mushroom slices towards her. She thinks she sees Bea’s nose wrinkled in disgust.

“Okay, but, if someone like Helga Sinclair - a total babe, by the way - came charging at you, you wouldn’t fight her?” Ava points at the screen where Helga is lifting boxes up, just to show off her muscles. Her mind gets stuck for a minute. They’re impressive arms. But then, Bea’s arms kind of look the same, now that she thinks about it. Helga has more of a Lilith-attitude, though.

Bea blinks. “She’s a cartoon character.”

“But if she was real,” Ava stresses. “Are you just too proud to tell me you’d wipe the floor with her pretty, 2-dimensional face?” She looks at Shannon. “Is she always this modest?”

Shannon snorts softly. “Yeah, Beatrice never really sells herself well.”

“We’re going to fix that,” Ava decides. Bea opens her mouth but Ava shakes her head. “It’s decided. Operation Beatrice is a Badass henceforth commences tonight, on this Saturday, in Apartment 3B. In the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Order.”

Bea’s mouth opens and closes a few times. “That’s not at all how that goes.”

“What a ridiculous thing to say,” Lilith mutters.

“It was kind of sweet,” Camila says kindly. “I think Beatrice needs a personal cheerleader.”

“Seems like Ava is up for the job,” Mary says. Her eyes are on Beatrice, a small smirk on her face. “I say go for it.”

Ava beams. “That’s four votes yes.”

Shannon hums. “I didn’t vote.”

“My vote counts twice,” Ava says without even looking at her. She goes to say something else, but Atlantis comes into view and she forgets what she was going to say, staring in wonder as Milo sees the lost city for the first time.

She watched this movie a lot when she was in the orphanage. Sister Frances was fond of donations and didn’t usually splurge on new things; a handful of DVDs, including Atlantis, were the last thing that showed up that wasn’t already in pieces by the time it got to them. Osmosis Jones was the other one, but one of the older boys broke it when he thought Osmosis Jones was living inside his body.

Atlantis always caught her attention, though. The idea that there was a secret world out there where anything was possible? It was all she dreamed about as a kid, confined to a bed and locked away under Sister Frances’ crow-like eyes. She imagined she was Milo, on the hunt for the one thing that would make her life make sense. Sure, she never found her Atlantis, but Milo did. And she could live through that.

Her eyes stray to Bea. She’s caught herself doing that all night - constantly tuned into Bea, wondering what she’s thinking or if she likes Ava’s choices or if she’s regretting agreeing to this new living situation. She thinks everyone is warming up to her and it makes her grin. Friends. Friends she can hang out with and do movie nights and trivia nights and lunch dates like the one she has scheduled with Camila on Monday between her morning and afternoon classes.

And all thanks to the person who is quickly becoming her favorite person. Bea is her Princess Kira, showing her a whole new world. She frowns. Wrong movie. But then she shrugs; the point still stands.

“Well, you eat enough for two people,” Mary says, pulling Ava’s attention back in. She sounds impressed, though. “I’ve never seen anyone put away what you have in the last few hours.”

Ava grins and pats her stomach. “There’s still room in this ol’ thing. Just you wait.”

Mary shakes her head, a smile on her face. “Okay, baby girl. Whatever you say.”

A rush of affection swells in her chest. No one has ever called her ‘baby girl’ before. Or said it with a smile like Mary’s, like it’s some secret between the two of them. She holds onto it. She wants to wear it again. She wonders what Bea will call her, what her nickname will be.

“None of you seem to understand what a movie night is, do you?” Lilith cuts in. She has her arms crossed over her chest, eyes narrowed. “It means watching a movie, not talking through it.”

“I didn’t realize you liked this movie so much,” Mary says lightly. “If we knew it was your favorite-”

“Not my favorite,” Lilith sniffs.

“-we would have quieted down,” she finishes. “You heard her, ladies, no talking through Lilith’s favorite movie.”

Mary, unlike Ava, catches the pillow Lilith throws and chucks it right back, hitting her right in the face. Ava gasps but the sound is swallowed up by the growl of disbelief from Lilith, the weary groan from Beatrice, Shannon tutting, and Camila clapping her hands together lightly.

It takes considerable effort, and they have to rewind twice, missing the mark both times and just giving up, but now Ava can put an X across the “bloodshed” square on her “how to be friends with girls” bingo card.

Lilith pouts for the next twenty minutes, Mary gloats, and Ava eats two more pieces of pizza, chewing happily.

“You’ll like this one,” Ava promises Bea as she loads the DVD unseen into the player. “It’s Shakespeare.”

A soccer ball bounces across the screen and the look of confusion on Bea’s face deepens. Ava holds out a hand, anticipating a question.

“Just wait, okay? This is pop culture history.”

Bea looks skeptical. “It really is,” Ava insists. “It takes Shakespeare and modernizes it. Think 10 Things I Hate About You. Think Romeo + Juliet. This is a cinematic marvel.”

“Sit down,” Shannon says without any bite. “We’ve liked the other ones so far.”

“Speak for yourself,” Lilith mutters. She scowls, but closes her mouth when Camila looks at her.

Ava doesn’t let it bother her. She swears she saw Lilith crying at the end of Atlantis. But Shannon’s words give her enough courage to take her seat again and watch Bea’s face, eager to see her reaction. She doesn’t have to wait long.

“I love this movie!”

“Not this one.”

Ava looks between Shannon and Mary. They look at each other.

Shannon blinks first. “You don’t like this movie?”

“I want to strangle her boyfriend every time he’s on screen.” Mary scowls, like she’s imagining his throat under her hand. “And Channing Tatum is just…”

“He’s a baby in this movie.”

“He’s not a good actor in this movie.”

Camila raises her hand weakly. “I like him in Magic Mike.” She balks at everyone’s sudden frown. Ava shakes her head. “My freshman year roommate was, like, obsessed with him. Actually, I think her mom was. And it just sort of… trickled down.”

Ava reaches out and pats her head gently. “I’m so sorry. That sounds terrible.”

Camila shrugs. “We traded off. Horror movies for me-”

“Horibble movies for her,” Mary finishes.

Shannon shrugs. “Well, I like this movie. Though, Olivia and Viola should have ended up together.”

That, Ava can get behind. She nods furiously. “Best chemistry, definitely.” She reaches for her bowl of ice cream - she has a scoop of every flavor they got at the grocery store. She digs into it, lifting her spoon to her mouth before she pauses, speaking first. “Do you think Amanda Bynes really knows how to play soccer?”

“No,” echoes around her.

She shrugs. “Didn’t think so.”

They turn their attention back to the movie, ignoring the comments Lilith makes critiquing Sebastian’s girlfriend and Marcus the creep and the principal - who she says reminds her of her tutor. The one you made cry? Bea asks. Lilith grins with all her teeth.

Ava soaks it in like the sun on a beach. She catalogues the way Bea laughs at the pizza shop scene, the way she repeats the ug-lay as if it’s some foreign word she’s learning for the first time. She wonders if she’ll ever hear Bea say it out loud. Maybe she’ll wear something really loud - a word she picked up from Chanel - and see what the reaction is. She watches the way Mary and Shannon whisper to each other, soft murmurs over Olivia and Viola-Sebasatian arguing about cutting open a frog. Even Lilith makes a noise that sounds like a short laugh when Duke shoves a tampon up his nose. Camila mouths the words along with the characters, body jerking a little as if she’s the one playing soccer on the screen.

If 12-year-old Ava could see her now. If 17-year-old Ava could see her now. She wouldn’t believe it. She’d think her whole world extended only as far as the four walls of that orphanage. But it doesn’t. It’s bigger and brighter and filled with the coolest people she’s ever met.

Amanda Bynes flashes the soccer team and Ava laughs and laughs until Bea is smiling and shaking her head - that look, the one Ava saw Bea give Camila, that slight hint of fondness, is aimed directly at her.

The Illyria soccer team wins against Cornwall and Ava feels like she’s won something too.

She barely hears the door click shut as Lilith closes it behind her, the last one to leave.

Ava had watched Camila wrestle her bean bag back out into the hallway, smiling too brightly for someone still up at two-thirty in the morning before she slumped back down on the couch, her energy spent. Mary patted the top of her head with a heavy hand, smoothing it out with a smile, and Shannon had squeezed her shoulder gently in a goodbye before they followed Camila. Lilith had stayed, helping to pick up a few things and talking quietly with Bea. Quiet enough that Ava couldn’t hear it - and too tired to tune into.

The popcorn and the candy and the pizza and the ice cream were catching up to her, making her a little nauseous and a lot full. She slumped down further on the couch and watched Lilith move through the apartment like she knew all its corners. She couldn’t wait until she could do the same.

Bea closes the refrigerator now and turns to Ava, smiling. “Did you have fun?”

“Best night ever.” It’s not a lie. This has kicked ‘First Night out with Chanel’ off the top of her list without a care in the world. “Did you?”

“I had a very nice time. We haven’t done that in a long time.” Bea drifts closer. She sits on the edge of the couch, hovering a little above the cushion.

“Monthly movie nights, then.” A thought crosses her mind and she pouts. “Hey, we forgot National Treasure.”

Bea laughs breathlessly. “I think four movies in one night is more than enough, Ava. There will be more nights for movies. We can watch it another time.”

Ava nods decisively. “Monthly movie nights. We have all the time in the world.”

“We do,” Bea says, and it feels a little bit like they’ll have this forever.

Ava reaches behind her, groping at the back of the couch until she finds the corner of the blanket she’s searching for. She pulls it down over her head.

She thinks she hears Bea laugh, soft and melodic. But she could be imagining it, a holdover from her being hyper-aware of each time she did during movie night. She curls into it and smiles into the arm of the couch. She doesn’t know how she started sliding down, but it’s comfortable here.

“Ava,” Beatrice says gently. “You have a bed.”

Ava pulls the blanket off her head and throws it onto her legs. She squirms, trying to get it to settle over her body. “But this is so comfortable. Where did you find this couch?”

“Shannon picked it out. I’ll ask her the next time I talk to her.”

“I’ve always wanted a couch like this,” she admits. “Big, comfy. Just for us.” Her eyes flutter closed and the room goes hazy before her vision goes dark. “I’m going to sleep here.” She wiggles again. The blanket tangles around her waist.

Bea is quiet for a moment. “Come on. I have something for you.”

Her eyes open quickly, rolling off the couch and onto her feet. “What is it?”

Bea looks nervous but crosses the room to her bedroom, slipping in through the closed door. Ava hears some things moving and then Bea is in the living room again, hands clasped behind her back. She’s holding something.

“It’s- Now that I have it, I’m not sure it-” Bea takes a deep breath and smiles tightly. “I got you something. A sort of housewarming present.”

Ava grins. “I love presents. What is it?”

There’s still an undercurrent of nervousness in the way Bea uncharacteristically shifts. “Hold out your hands. And close your eyes.”

Ava immediately slams her eyes closed and thrusts her hands out. The air feels still but not uncomfortable. Silences with Bea don’t feel weird, which is crazy. So she doesn’t mind the wait as Bea obviously works up the courage to put something in her hands. After a long moment, she feels something soft and nearly weightless drop into her cupped palms.

Bea clears her throat. “You can open your eyes.”

Ava does. She blinks. A long, thin, soft stuffed animal with a white belly and tiger stripes stares back at her. She’s confused for a moment before the pieces slot into her place in her mind. “Is this… Is this Hobbes? From Calvin and Hobbes?

Bea’s cheeks are just the slightest hint of pink. She clears her throat again. “I’m sorry if this is overstepping.”

“It’s really not,” Ava rushes out. Her heart is too big in her chest. Her eyes start to burn a little, hot beads forming in the corners. “How did you-”

“The internet is more than just Wikipedia and Reddit.” Bea’s hands are tucked back behind her again. “But after our conversation…”

Their conversation.

The one where Ava told Bea everything: her accident and the grueling years of work, the orphanage, years spent in the libraries reading everything she could get her hands on. She told her about the Peanuts comics she liked and how one of the older kids had called her Linus because she carried around a blue blanket for a few years. She told Bea about the hours she would spend reading the Calvin and Hobbes comic collections and pretending she could join them on their adventures: riding in a wagon, bubble bath statues, exploring the forest, sledding, waiting for the school bus.

She told Bea she always wanted a Hobbes stuffed animal to take with her on her own adventures, just as soon as she could go and have them. She’d never admitted that to anyone else, not even Diego, the little boy she shared a room with. But something about Bea made it easy to talk about these kinds of things, Maybe it was the way she listened. She didn’t judge, she didn’t laugh.

Ava knows that’s going to be a problem. She’s going to end up telling Bea everything all the time.

And when Bea is ready to talk more about herself, about what her parents were like and how they were never around, Ava is going to be ready to listen.

“You didn’t have to do that,” she says quietly.

Bea’s voice is just as quiet. “I wanted to. You deserve to go on adventures.”

She breathes in slowly. “Today was an adventure. The best kind. And I know there’s going to be a million more.” She hugs Hobbes to her chest. “Because now I have someone. Two someones.” She smiles softly at Bea. “Hobbes. And you.”

Bea’s cheeks pinken just a hint more. She opens her mouth like she’s going to say something, but closes it again. Ava doesn’t want to say anything either, afraid to break this precarious moment. So she just looks at Hobbes, her Hobbes, and feels her chest swell with affection for this new friend she’s found.

‘Thank you,” she whispers. Bea doesn’t whisper back, but Ava doesn't think she needs to. She places Hobbes carefully on the couch. She strokes down his soft belly, fingers lingering before she turns to Bea. “I’m going to hug you. Brace yourself.”

She sees Bea physically prepare for it, watches the muscles under her thin cotton shirt tense. And she laughs, inwardly, that Bea seems to ready herself, as if Ava is going to knock her down. But she doesn’t blame her. Ava crashes into her, arms tight around her middle, trapping Bea’s arms against her sides. She feels Bea struggle for a moment before she frees her arms. Hands hover above her back before Bea pats her gently. Ava grins into the soft skin of Bea's arm.

“I think we’re going to be best friends,” she says quietly in the space between them.

She doesn’t break away from the hug until her arms start to ache. Then she steps back, giving Bea a hesitant smile before she ducks around her, headed to her new bedroom with Hobbies in her hands. With a soft goodnight, she lets Bea have a moment to herself. She seems like the type of person who needs to recover from a hug, but Ava will take care of that.

She’s a very good hugger. And they have time.

#warrior nun #avatrice #ava silva #sister beatrice #forever roommates #this was supposed to be a movie night FICLET #okay listen #this got SO FAR out of hand i cannot even begin to tell you what happened #everyone say thank you kay thank you kay #because she pushed for this and now you get to read if you'd like to #and she spent her time looking it over so she deserves extra thanks #also shout out to dren who opened a floodgate that i didn't realize needed to be let loose #is there a word limit to posts?#apparently not #for those counting along at home it's 6k #i can rest now

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rottenpumpkin13 · 21 days

Note

Hey I wanna ask you too, what are your AGS wing headcanons? Go crazy lol

• Genesis got his wing first, and therefore had the most time to get used to the extra limb and figure out how to work with it. It sheds like a bitch—and sheds the most out of the three—but he's meticulous about grooming and wing care, often blowing a ton of gil on expensive products and devices. He rarely, if ever, uses vehicles and other means of transport since his wing grew in. Why would he? Flying is much faster + he loves to always be one step ahead of time.

Since he had the most time to become accustomed to it, this means Genesis has a habit of incorporating his wing into his daily life in very useful ways.

*Zack is messing around with the candy jar on the bookshelf Genesis' office, Genesis comes in with his hands full*

Genesis: Zack, don't touch those. You'll spoil your appetite.

Zack: Oh yeah? And what are you going to do about it? You got your hands full!

*Genesis smacks him with his wing*

• Sephiroth—way after getting over the initial shock and existential dread that his won't brought him—began seeing his wing as a useful tool and nothing else. He likes the advantage it gives him during combat, and he'll be lying if he said there wasn't an element of freedom that flying brings him. But flying is as far as it goes. He doesn't care for grooming or caring for it no matter how much Genesis pesters him about it. Although....there is one other use he gets out of it.....

*Genesis comes around looking for Sephiroth*

Genesis: Sephiroth, are you okay? You've been missing for two—

*He walks in on Sephiroth fast asleep, using his wing as a blanket*

Genesis: Hm. Blackmail.

*He snaps a picture*

• Angeal's wing came in last, when he felt wholly out of place with his pure, white wing. It contrasts sharply against Sephiroth's and Genesis' black ones. He doesn't know how to feel about it to this day. Hollander assures him that it's merely a genetic variation, yet he feels unnatural. He can feel the buster sword brush his wing when it sits there. But much like Sephiroth, he doesn't shy away from the benefits of using it in combat. And like Genesis, he makes an effort to incorporate it into his daily life, mostly to help himself grow used to it.

*Zack and Angeal are on a mission somewhere cold*

Zack: Brr! It's freezing! I'll turn into a Zack-cicle at this rate.

Angeal: I told you to bring a jacket before we left.

Zack: But I wasn't cold then!

Angeal: Fine. Come here.

*Angeal wraps his wing around him*

#ff7 #ffvii #final fantasy 7 #sephiroth #final fantasy vii #ffvii crisis core #genesis rhapsodos #ff7 crisis core #angeal hewley #zack fair #headcanons

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sluttywonwoo · 10 months

Text

instead of you [part eighteen] - l.mh

pairing: [best friend’s brother] lee minho x college!reader ft. han jisung

summary: you didn’t expect to spend your summer pretending to be your best friend’s girlfriend- then again, you didn’t expect to fall for your best friend’s brother, either.

warnings: swearing, food poisoning mentions, reader has emetophobia

word count: 3.4k

a/n: revamped my tom holland series from my main blog ( @wazzupmrstark ) to try and motivate myself to finish it!!

series masterlist | early access to the next chapter on ko-fi

“It just looked like you wanted to say something,” Jisung continued.

Minho forced a smile and shook his head again. “Nope.”

“Nothing up there, as usual,” Felix joked, nudging him with his shoulder.

“Very funny.”

“Thanks, I get it from Dad.”

The conversation moved on swiftly as Felix began talking about the arcade he and Minho had visited earlier that afternoon. The food arrived shortly after and you all ate in relative silence, periodically breaking the silence to comment on the meal.

“You want to try some of this, Minho?” Jisung asked, offering a piece of sashimi to his brother with his chopsticks.

“No thanks.”

“I’ll try it,” Felix offered, reaching across the table to steal a piece.

Jisung rolled his eyes, but grinned, turning to you next. “What about you, darling? Do you want to try a piece?”

“Hilarious,” you deadpanned.

“Are you trying to kill your own girlfriend?” Felix joked.

“She wouldn’t die,” he explained defensively, “she’d just get really sick.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll pass.”

“Suit yourself.”

Jisung insisted on paying the tab for you and himself, making an offhand comment about how you were his girlfriend, and his brother was always the one paying for you. You wanted to comment about how old-fashioned that concept was, but you refrained. To be fair, he had a point when he said that Minho was always paying for you- but he was always paying for everyone. He was the one with the budget to do so in the first place.

Either way, it really wasn’t something making a big deal over, at least not in your opinion.

After dinner you walked back to the hotel with the boys and crashed after taking a shower. You actually felt tired enough to be able to sleep through the night regardless of Mingo and Felix’s presence, but unfortunately a good night’s rest just wasn’t in the cards for you.

Almost every hour on the hour you’d be woken up by your best friend getting out of bed and going to the bathroom. You finally asked him about it after the third time it happened, trying to mask the frustration you felt with genuine concern.

“Are you okay?”

He shrugged almost imperceptibly in the dark. “Not feeling very good.”

You frowned even though you knew he couldn’t see you. “What’s wrong?”

“Stomach just hurts,” he said casually, “it’s nothing.”

Your chest tightened with anxiety, not only because you were concerned about him, but because you were extremely squeamish, and he knew that. Your best friend often downplayed his symptoms on your account just so you wouldn’t freak out.

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion, positive that he was doing the same now.

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

You didn’t believe him, but you’d rather live in ignorance than have the confirmation of what was essentially your worst fear. You rolled over onto your other side and tried to ignore the panic rising in your throat.

Somehow you managed to fall asleep again, only to be woken up a couple more times by Jisung and once by Felix. You weren’t the lightest sleeper, but the Han boys sure as hell knew how to make a fuck ton of noise in the middle of the night.

By the time your alarm went off the next morning you weren’t sure how many hours you had actually slept, but you knew it wasn’t enough.

Jisung looked even worse off. He was paler than usual and the dark circles beneath his eyes were more pronounced. He was already awake when you woke up, sitting upright next to you in the bed.

“What is it?” you asked nervously.

“Food poisoning, I think.”

Your chest tightened again. “Are you serious?’

He nodded. “Felix too. I think it’s just us since we’re the only ones who ate my sushi.”

You sat up and glanced over at his twin brother who was also looking rather pale and clammy.

“And I only had like two pieces,” Felix groaned, clutching his stomach.

“If you need to use the bathroom or get changed my parents said we can get ready in their bathroom,” Minho piped up.

“Wh-what do you mean get ready?”

“For the tour thing we’re supposed to do today.”

“We’re still doing that?”

“I mean, Jisung and Felix can’t go obviously, but the tickets are already paid for and they’re not refundable.”

“But… I can’t leave Jisung,” you reasoned, turning to face him. “You’re sick! I need to take care of you.”

“There’s not much you can do for me, babe,” he pointed out. “I don’t want you to miss out, either. And I know you’d only make yourself miserable here if you stayed.”

You knew he was referring to your… aversion, which he was right about, but you felt guilty just thinking about leaving him here while you went out and had fun. Being alone with Minho was another thing you had to consider. Everything about the plan sounded like a bad idea.

“Are you sure? Because I can stay. I really don’t mind.”

“I’m sure, angel,” Jisung sighed. “This is probably a once in a lifetime kind of thing. Remember when you convinced me to go up the Tokyo Tower? I’m doing the same thing for you now.”

“That only took like an hour!” you protested. “This is an all-day trip!”

“The circumstances are different!”

You sighed in frustration and threw the covers off of yourself as you stood from the bed. Out of the corner of your eye you saw Minho and Felix trade wary looks with each other like they always did when you and Jisung argued in front of them.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

“Atta girl.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’ll hate every second of it.”

“No you won’t.”

“You don’t know me.”

Jisung turned his attention to his older brother. “Make sure she’s not too stubborn to let herself have fun, yeah?”

“I’ll do my best.”

“I can hear you, you know.”

“I know.” Jisung grinned weakly. “And you, go easy on Minho, alright?”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grumbled, shuffling over to your suitcase to grab a change of clothes.

“I mean it!”

After telling Jisung you loved him and instructing him to try and drink plenty of fluids if he could keep them down, you and Minho gathered all of your things to bring down the hall to their parents’ room to get ready for the day.

“Take lots of pictures!” Jisung called after you both as you walked out the door.

“Get lots of rest!” you shouted back, forgetting that it was still early in the morning and other hotel guests were likely trying to sleep. “Fuck, sorry.”

Minho chuckled as he checked the door to make sure it locked behind you and then led the way to his parents room just a couple doors down.

Dom and Nikki were already dressed and sitting on the bed, out of the way, so that only you and Minho would have to share the bathroom space, rather than all four of you trying to get ready at once.

“How are you two feeling?” Nikki asked, her voice laced with concern.

“We’re fine,” Minho answered for you both. “Neither of us ate any of Ji’s sushi and I guess we got lucky with ours.”

“What did he have?”

“Tuna, I think.”

“Poor thing. I’ll call room service to bring them some soup later, but you two go ahead and get ready. The shuttle will be here to pick us up in about thirty minutes.”

Minho let you have the bathroom first. You got changed and put your hair up before giving it to him. Nikki had you put your pajamas in a laundry sack that was hanging on the door and then you and Minho brushed your teeth in front of the sink together, silently eyeing each other in the mirror.

“What?” you asked finally through a mouthful of toothpaste.

“Nothing!” he mumbled back.

“Why are you looking at me?”

“Because you started it!”

“No I didn’t!”

You paused to spit. “You definitely did.”

“Why would I be looking at you?”

“I-I don’t know!”

“Exactly.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you were staring at me first.”

“I-” he stammered, “I was just staring off into space! I wasn’t intentionally staring at you.”

“Seemed intentional.”

Minho bent over to spit in the sink before responding. “Well it wasn’t.”

You turned on the faucet and rinsed your mouth out, leaving the water running for Minho to do the same.

A knock on the already open door startled you both. It was Minho’s dad, looking at you both expectantly.

“Are you ready? We gotta get downstairs.”

“Yeah, sorry,” you said and quickly splashed cold water on your face. That would have to do for ‘washing your face’.

“Dad, what are we meant to do for breakfast?” Minho asked, following his father into the bedroom.

“We’ll figure it out.”

‘Figuring it out’ ended up meaning stale granola bars from the bottom of Nikki’s purse. You and Minho shared one as you sat squished together on one of the shuttle benches, and Dom and Nikki shared the other one. The bus driver had said that there were vending machines with snacks at the pickup point where you would hop onto a larger bus for the trip to Mt. Fuji.

“Want the last bite?” Minho asked, offering the piece to you.

“No thanks, you can have it.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, thanks though.”

Minho shrugged and popped it in his mouth, crumpling up the wrapper and shoving it in his pocket to throw away later.

“You can put your stuff in my backpack if you want,” he continued. “Since I know you usually keep it in Ji’s.”

“Oh, that’d be great, actually. Thank you.”

He unzipped the bag and held out his hand for you to pass him your things. You handed him your wallet, phone, and AirPods, all of which he slid into a pocket on the inside of his backpack before zipping it back up.

The shuttle brought you to a centralized bus station where dozens of coaches were parked and waiting to pick up their passengers. The drivers were standing outside of their respective buses with signs that told you what tour they were leading.

“Be quick,” Dom advised you and Minho. “Mum and I are going to head over to the coach in case they try to leave you behind. Use the bathroom, get food, drinks, and meet us on the bus.”

“Do you want us to get anything for you?” Minho asked.

“Um, grab me a tea or a coffee if they have it, and grab mum one too.”

“What about food?”

“Fruit or trail mix is fine.”

You parted ways and went with Minho over to the cluster of vending machines underneath one of the pavilions. You were immediately overwhelmed by choice. You didn’t even know they made vending machines for half of the products that were being sold. Fresh fruit, umbrellas, condoms… they had thought of everything.

“I’m going to get one of those waffle things,” Minho announced. “Want one?”

You breathed a sigh of relief. Having decisions made for you made life so much easier.

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Cool, I’ll put in the order for both of us. What flavor do you want?”

“Wait, you don’t have to do that. I can get my own.”

“I think Jisung would kill me if I let you buy your own,” he said, shaking his head.

It wasn’t the first time Minho had said something like that, and you couldn’t help but laugh to yourself thinking about all the times Jisung had slid the bill towards you at bars and restaurants with puppy-dog eyes.

“He doesn’t have to know,” you tried.

“He’d find out.”

“Who’s gonna tell him?”

“Do I need to remind you that I have your wallet?” Minho asked with a smirk.

You sidestepped him and made a grab for the strap on his shoulder, but he dodged you easily and swung the backpack out of reach.

“Nice try.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “I want the strawberry one.”

“Was that so hard?”

You didn’t bother responding. Minho bought the waffles and a couple apples from the next vending machine over. While he was distracted you snuck away to the drink machine and used the cash in your pocket to purchase four iced lattes.

It wasn’t long before you were caught, but you’d already fed the bills into the machine.

“What are you doing?” Minho demanded. “Where did you get that?”

“I keep some money in my pocket,” you replied smugly. “Ever since the same thing happened in Paris when I tried to pay for myself.”

You could tell Minho was trying to push down his annoyance, but the tips of his ears were already turning red, giving him away.

“This is for you.” You smiled sweetly and held out one of the cups to him.

He took it begrudgingly, eyes narrowed. “I’m keeping my eye on you.”

The bus was still relatively empty when you and Minho joined his parents minutes later. Minho distributed the food and you gave the other two coffees to Nikki and Dom before taking a seat a couple rows behind them.

Each row had two seats. Minho took the window seat and you sat beside him next to the aisle. You weren’t sure if you should sit next to him, or if that would be weird, but as far as you knew this tour was fully booked and everyone else was a complete stranger to you. Sitting next to your best friend’s brother for three-ish hours on a bus wasn’t the end of the world, even if there was a… weird tension between you.

Minho didn’t seem to think anything of it. He gave you your waffle and your AirPods from his backpack without a word. The bus driver boarded a few minutes later and announced that you’d be stopping by two more pickup points before starting the route to Lake Ashinoko, the first stop of the day.

You ate your strawberry waffle quietly as the coach navigated the narrow streets of Tokyo. It was a little cold, but that was to be expected seeing as it was stored in a refrigerated vending machine.

No one was in much of a mood to talk, save for one or two families sitting in the back. Everyone was seemingly in agreement that it was too early for socialization.

Minho was listening to music with his own headphones and looking out the window, watching the city fly by in a blur of color.

The sun was sitting high in the sky by now. Its rays stretched through the windows and warmed the inside of the bus. The driver had the AC running on high which made you unconsciously lean towards Minho, towards the warmth coming from outside.

“Cold?” Minho asked suddenly, snapping you out of your train of thought.

You hadn’t even realized you were practically encroaching on his personal space. You leaned away from him and averted your eyes in embarrassment.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to smother you!”

“No, you don’t have to- uh,” he paused, knowing he needed to choose his next words carefully. “I have a sweater in my bag if you want to use it as a blanket, or, um, wear it.”

“Oh, that’s okay. I’m okay,” you assured him.

“I’m not even using it.”

“I’m fine.”

“Y/n…”

He was already unzipping his backpack despite your protesting. You tensed, feeling caught between your feelings and your rationale. You were cold. Minho offering you his sweatshirt was a gesture of politeness, nothing else. Accepting it meant nothing. Not accepting it would be rude and make things weird, right?

Your inner dialogue was so distracting you didn’t even notice that Minho was draping the sweatshirt over your shoulders until you felt the weight of it resting on your chest.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

“Don’t mention it.”

It wasn’t a surprise that you fell asleep on the ride to the lake. After the shitty night of sleep you’d gotten, it was expected. What was a surprise, though, was Jisung’s mother shaking you awake and realizing you’d fallen asleep on Minho’s shoulder.

“Kids,” Nikki said gently, nudging you and then Minho.

You groaned and blinked your eyes open, confused as to why you were slumped over to the side. And then it dawned on you. You bolted upright, nearly bumping heads with Nikki. Luckily, she had quick reflexes and jumped back before you could give you both a concussion.

“Sorry,” you apologized, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Don’t worry about it, love. Could you wake Minho, though? We’re at the lake.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Tell him to hurry, we only have a little while before we’re off to the next stop.”

Once she had walked away you turned to Minho who was resting against the window and shook him awake. You weren’t sure which one of you had fallen asleep first, but you had a feeling it was you. Why hadn’t Minho pushed you off? Or woken you up? What had his mom thought when she saw you sleeping on top of her son- the one that wasn’t your boyfriend?

“What’s wrong,” Minho mumbled.

“We’re here.”

“At the mountain?”

“No, dumbass. The first stop is the lake. Were you listening to the tour guide?”

“Listen, I just woke up. Take it easy on me.”

“Well, your parents are waiting for us. They say we won’t be here long.”

You didn’t wait for a response, leaving him there to join his parents outside. The view was beautiful. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and Mt. Fuji stood proudly in the background of the lake, surrounded by green mountains and forests that went on for miles.

But it was hard to enjoy with all of the thoughts about Minho swirling in the back of your mind.

You heard him approach your group, but didn’t turn to acknowledge him.

“Are you mad at me?” he asked once you were back on the bus. “Did I do something?”

“Why did you let me fall asleep on you?” you blurted out.

“I- what do you mean?”

“I woke up and I was sleeping on your shoulder. Why did you let me do that?”

“What do you mean ‘let you’? It just happened.”

“And you didn’t stop it.”

“I didn’t know I was supposed to!”

“Bullshit.”

“It didn’t mean anything,” he argued.

“So if Jisung was here you would’ve let the same thing happen?” He looked at the ground. “That’s what I thought.”

“I swear, I didn’t mean anything by it- it just…” he trailed off.

“It just what?” you pushed.

“It just felt natural, I don’t know!” he finally admitted. “I didn’t even think about it.”

“How is that possible?” you hissed in frustration. You were trying not to raise your voice because you didn’t need the whole bus overhearing your conversation, especially not Minho’s parents.

“I was half asleep when it happened, y/n! You know, you’re the one who fell asleep on me.”

“Oh, so it’s my fault?”

He doubled down. “I never said that.”

“It’s not like I did it on purpose!”

“Didn’t you?”

You looked at him incredulously. “What the fuck’s that supposed to mean?”

He raised his chin and chuckled bitterly. “I think you know.”

“Please, enlighten me.”

But instead of doing so he leaned forward, eyes trained on your lips. A familiar feeling rushed to your stomach- a combination of nausea and adrenaline. The same feeling you’d had when Minho kissed you the first time. You knew it was about to happen again, yet you couldn’t bring yourself to lean away. Fuck his pretty brown eyes and cute smile and curly hair-

“You have a freckle on your bottom lip,” he said matter-of-factly, completely dropping the argument you’d just been having.

You swallowed harshly, unsure of how to proceed. “Always have.”

“Never noticed it before,” he whispered, gaze flicking up to meet your eyes. You stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. He was only inches from your face. “Tell me if I’m overstepping.”

Your breath caught in your throat and you could barely manage a response. “You’re overstepping.”

“Do you want me to stop? Tell me the truth.”

“You know I can’t do that.”

lmk what you think i always appreciate feedback!!

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#the vending machine pics of min were so perfect for this chapter eeee #instead of you stray kids #iou skz #stray kids x reader #skz x reader #lee know x reader #lino x reader #lee know x female reader #lee know x bi!reader #lee know series #lee minho x reader #minho x reader

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