#WHEN I TELL YOU MY HEART DROPPED AT THE WIFE AND DAUGHTER FAKE OUT.....
Text
so incredibly fucked up of to my star season two to be angsty why couldn't just it be eight straight episodes of jiwoo and seojoon being domestic
#WHEN I TELL YOU MY HEART DROPPED AT THE WIFE AND DAUGHTER FAKE OUT.....#jiwoo better have a secret explanation. mf WHAT.#heart been broke so many times 💔💔#to my star#to my star season 2#han jiwoo#kang seojoon
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
Fight
Summary: When you get a phone call from your elementary school that your girls got into a fight, Javi leaves work to figure out what happened.
Word Count: 3.6K
Pairing: Dad!Javi x Wife!reader (No use of y/n)
Warnings: Violence (the Peña girls get in a fight at school), bullying, the Peña girls being little badasses, Javi being a proud dad, idk everything I post for this series is gonna be sickeningly sweet, I'm not sure what to tell you 😩
A/N: I literally had this idea on the drive into work this morning, got a terrible migraine, went home, woke up and wrote this in like an hour 🤪 This was inspired by @bbiophiliaa asking me about the girl's personalities, and I think this sums it up pretty darn well! GOD I LOVE THIS FAMILY YALL GOTTA SEDATE ME
Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the NTL universe!
Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist
The phone number for Alma Pierce Elementary was one you recognize like the back of your hand. If it weren’t for all the years you’d worked there as a teacher, the fact that two of your three daughters now attended there as 1st and 3rd graders meant that you had the school’s phone number memorized almost as well as your own. That’s why when you got a phone call from Alma Pierce in the middle of the day, while waiting in the lobby of your pediatrician’s office for an appointment with your youngest (and her never ending cold that she couldn’t seem to shake), you were surprised to see the number that you knew all too well pop up on your caller ID.
Being a former teacher, your girls knew better than to try and play sick and call home to get out of school, and noting their usual chipper and enthusiastic demeanor this morning when you dropped them off, you found it hard to believe that a mystery illness had plagued them enough in the past few hours to warrant a call home. You ran through your mental checklist in your head of your morning routine, almost positive that Lucy and Elliot had both their lunches, gym shoes, and no after school activities that they would have forgotten anything for. Your phone continued to ring, a now slightly unsettling feeling building in your stomach as you began to wonder the reason for the midday call.
“Hello?” you answered, bouncing a sleepy, snotty Harper in your lap as you sat waiting in the uncomfortable fake leather of the doctor’s office chair.
“Hi Mrs. Peña, it’s Principal Coleman.”
Oh god.
While Lucy and Elliot were your daughters in every sense that they were just as feisty and stubborn as you, they were sweet girls, and knew better than to do anything to break the rules or be disrespectful at school.
Or, so you thought.
Your heart began to sink to the pit of your stomach, knowing that a call from the Principal at 1:30 in the afternoon most likely didn’t mean good news, letting out a quiet deep breath before responding.
“Hi Principal Coleman, how are you?”
“Well Mrs. Peña, I’m going to start off by saying I’m just as shocked as you probably are about the reason behind this phone call.”
Oh sweet Jesus, what did these two do?
You paused for a moment before Principal Coleman spoke again, without even giving you a chance to ask what had happened. “Today at recess, Lucy and Elliot beat up a boy in Elliot’s class pretty badly.”
Was this a joke? There’s no way that she could be serious, right? You girls fought at home, but to gang up on another boy? At school? Heat began to flood through your cheeks in embarrassment and anger at your daughters as you tried to compose yourself enough to speak. “Principal Coleman, I- I’m so sorry. I’m- I don’t even know what to say. Do you know what happened?”
“No, not yet, the girls are in my office right now, but I was hoping that you’d be able to come join us to have a conversation about it, considering what a serious thing this has become. Especially since your girls aren’t ones I see in my office often.”
You stared down at Harper, wiping the back of her little arm against her boogery nose as she groaned and leaned against her chest. It had taken you a week to make an appointment for her, and for her sanity, or yours, you didn’t want to have to wait another week longer, but there was no way you weren’t finding out what the was reason why your girls had attacked someone out on the playground. You looked around frantically, trying to brainstorm a solution until you remembered the other half responsible for creating your fist fighting monsters.
“Yes, absolutely Principal Coleman. I’m at the doctor with my other daughter right now, but I’ll see if my husband can come down to the school to talk with the girls.”
“Perfect, thank you so much, Mrs. Peña.”
You had barely hung up before you were punching the keys of your cell phone, dialing up Javi and anxiously chewing on your bottom lip as you waited for him to pick up.
“Hey, Hermosa!” You could almost hear Javi’s smile through the phone, his voice sweet and unassuming, considering it wasn’t uncommon for you to call him during the day, and especially not about things like this. “What’s going on, baby?”
“Um, I just got a call from the Principal saying that Lucy and Elliot beat up a kid during recess.”
“Woah, woah, woah. Wait, Osita, you can’t be serious?” Javi responded, almost more in shock than you were at the news.
“I’m being serious, Jav. She wants one of us down there to go talk with him, but I’ve got Harper at the doctor’s right now and I don’t want to have to reschedule if I don’t have to. Is there any way you can go?” You sighed, rubbing your fingers on the sides of your temples from the impending headache your girls were causing you.
“Holy shit. Yeah, yeah- of course, I’ll head over right now. What the hell happened?”
“I don’t know, she didn’t say. Jesus Jav, I’m so embarrassed, I know the girls fight at home, but to beat up someone at school? What did we do wrong that would make them think that’s okay?” You could feel the nervous, frustrated tears beginning to well in your eyes, guilt and shame creeping through every inch of your body, currently feeling like the worst parent to have ever existed in that moment.
“Shhhh, hey, Osita, it’s alright. I’m sure there has to be a reason. I’m gonna head out right now and figure it out, okay? I love you. Give Harps a big kiss for me, yeah?”
“Okay. I love you too. Thanks, Jav.”
With a gentle click of the receiver, the other side of the line went silent, leaving you and Harper in the bright, sterile lights of the waiting room. The ceiling lights may as well been spotlights beaming down in your direction, now sensing several pairs of eyes on you after your phone call. You’d never been so thankful for your 4 year old’s sleepy, sick state, because if she was any more awake, she would be happily babbling about your phone call to everyone in the lobby, letting them know her big sisters got in a fight at school.
“Harper Peña?” A voice called from across the lobby.
Well, at least one of your 3 daughters you could help take care of.
Javi was pretty sure the last time drove this fast anywhere was after your water broke with Elliot, making it to the hospital in record breaking time. Whipping into the first empty parking spot he found, Javi practically sprinted through the parking lot to the front of the building, his heart pounding as he stepped into the main office, greeted by the familiar faces of your old co-workers, with unfamiliar grimaces on their faces.
“Principal Coleman’s back this way.” Señora Gonzalez mumbled, almost avoiding eye contact with Javi as she pointed to the open door behind her desk. As if the phone call from his wife earlier didn’t have him worried enough, the dismayed look on everyone’s faces sure didn’t help.
“Hi Mr. Peña. Please, take a seat.” Principal Coleman smiled politely after outstretching her hand for Javi to shake before gesturing towards the empty seat between Lucy and Elliot. If there was one thing Javi was not shocked about, it was the way both of his daughters seemed to be handling the current situation. Lucy, being the empathetic older sister she was, was in tears, trying her best to keep from bawling as she looked up at her dad, her face riddled with guilt. Elliot on the other hand, was leaned back in her chair, arms crossed against her chest, seeming almost completely unbothered by her current situation, giving Javi a little shrug, as if to say I’m not sure why we’re here either.
“Principal Coleman, I just want to start off by saying I’m so sorry. I was shocked when my wife called me and said the girls had been in a fight.”
“He was asking for it…” Elliot mumbled under her breath, arms still crossed, slouching even lower.
“Elliot Marie.” Javi snapped, giving his daughter a dangerous glare, knowing her stubborn attitude he was all too familiar with.
“Well why don’t you go ahead then Elliot. Can you explain to us what happened?” Principal Coleman asked, nodding at Elliot. Elliot let out a deep sigh, sitting up a little straighter in her chair, uncrossing her arms and bracing them on the armrests of her seat.
“Principal Coleman, do you know Hunter in my class?” Elliot asked, prepping the room as if she was getting ready to argue her case in court. Principal Coleman slightly cocked her head, intrigued by Elliot’s question.
“Yes, I do.”
“Okay. Well at the beginning of the year, Mrs. Walker told us that Hunter’s brain is kind of different than ours. He says the same things over and over and makes silly noises and moves his body around even when he’s supposed to be sitting still. She said it’s because he has Autumn-tism. I don’t know why it’s called that because he doesn’t really like the fall, but he does really like outer space.”
“He has Autism, Elliot, not Autumn-tism.” Lucy groaned, rolling her eyes at her sister.
“Whatever.” Elliot sighed, rolling her eyes right back. “Anyways, no one ever wanted to play with Hunter because he was different from other kids, and everyone called him weird, and I felt really sad because everyone should have friends to play with at school. So one day I decided to ask him if he wanted to play and now we’re best friends and play rocket ships every day at recess.” Elliot adjusted again, scooching up taller in her chair, looking back and forth between her dad and Principal Coleman. “And even though Mrs. Walker always says be kind to everyone, Max in my class is not very kind, especially to Hunter. He always makes fun of him and calls him mean names, and I always tell him to stop because it hurts Hunter’s feelings.”
“Well I’m very glad that you are standing up for your friend Elliot, but how did this end up with you and Lucy both beating up Max?”
“I’m getting there Principal Coleman, I promise.” Elliot nodded, already halfway out the door to law school at this point. “Today at recess, Hunter and I were on the swings playing rockets, minding our own business, when all of a sudden Max came up out of nowhere and pushed Hunter so hard off the swings he landed in the wood chips and started crying. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he said that Hunter deserved it because he was a freak and freaks shouldn’t get to have friends.”
“It’s true, that’s what he said…” Lucy quietly chimed in, barely lifting her eyes off their fixed spot on the floor. “I was out at recess too and I saw Max push Hunter so I went over to help.”
“So I helped Hunter up and then I told Max that he can’t talk to him like that, and if he keeps making fun of him, I’m gonna kick him in the nuts.”
“She did also say that…” Lucy grimaced, looking over at her sister.
“Well. He called him a stupid loser who should go fly to outer space so no one ever has to see him again. So I kicked him in the nuts. I warned him.” Elliot responded, holding up her hands in defense.
“I may have kicked him too…”
“I’m really sorry, Daddy. And I'm sorry Principal Coleman. I know we’re not supposed to fight and use our words but I couldn’t let him make fun of Hunter anymore. It’s not fair.”
“I’m really sorry, too. I should have told her to stop. She is right, Max is always so mean to him for no reason besides the fact he’s different and he can’t help it.”
The girls both looked up at their dad with remorse, their sweet little faces filled with a mix of guilt and pride, knowing they were in the wrong for what they had done, but also knowing they had done what was right for Elliot’s friend, even if it meant finding themselves in the Principal’s Office.
After hearing his daughter’s story, his face mirrored theirs. While he also didn’t think he’d find himself in the Principal’s Office this afternoon, he also couldn’t help but feel proud knowing that his daughters cared so deeply about this boy, and had gone out of their way to stand up for him with no hesitation. There had been so many times since the girls had been born that Javi wondered if he had ever done right by his daughters. But seeing them here today, knowing all they wanted to do was stand up for the person who needed it most had him feeling like maybe, just maybe, he was doing something right.
Even Principal Coleman’s face began to soften, realizing the circumstances of the situation, recognizing the Peña girls wanted nothing more than to protect their friend, even if they perhaps hadn’t gone about it the right way.
“Well girls. I think that we can all agree that moving forward, violence is never the right way to solve our problems, correct?” Lucy and Elliot softly bobbed their heads, looking down at the ground. “That being said, I do think that it is very brave of you that you stood up for Hunter. He is very lucky to have such thoughtful friends.” Principal Coleman smiled, Lucy and Elliot’s heads now perking back up in shock. “I do think that you still do need to apologize to Max for what you did, so tomorrow, the three of us are going to meet, sound fair?”
The girls shook their heads in agreement, still bracing themselves for the rest of their punishment. “Mr. Peña, while I do not condone fighting in the slightest, I do think there is something to be said for the fact your girls have such big hearts.”
“Thank you.” Javi beamed, peering down at his two girls, resting a hand on each of their knees and giving them a little shake. “Again, I am really sorry, I promise we’ll talk about using our words instead of fighting if something like this ever happens again.”
“Of course. Alright girls, you two can both head back to class and-”
“Actually, if it’s okay, I’m gonna sign them out and take them home.” Javi interjected, the girls now staring at their dad in confusion. Principal Coleman nodded, her and Javi shaking hands once again before the 3 Peñas made their way out of the office.
“Daddy, why are we going home?” Elliot asked, puzzled by her dad’s proposition.
“Just go get your stuff, okay?” Javi smiled, nudging the two girls towards the door as they speeded off to their classrooms, quickly returning with their backpacks.
The 3 loaded into Javi’s truck, Lucy and Elliot exchanging silent, confused looks in the backseat before Elliot worked up the courage to speak. “Daddy… Are you mad at us?”
Javi turned back around to face the girls, tilting his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. “You guys know you shouldn’t be fighting at school, right?”
“Right.” The little voices said in unison.
“Good. I’m not mad, girls. I’m really proud of you. You did the right thing standing up for that kid. There may be times in life where there isn’t always an easy answer to things, but you girls did what you knew was right, and that’s what mattered most. Sounds like Max is a really big jerk anyways.”
“You can say that again…” Elliot snorted, the 3 of them laughing along at her comment. With that, Javi turned over the ignition in his car, the engine roaring to life as he began to pull out of the parking lot in the opposite direction of home.
“Dad, we don’t go home this way?” Lucy pointed out, in her lovingly know-it-all voice.
“I know. That’s because we’re going to get ice cream.” Javi grinned, the girls now cheering in excitement, dancing in their seats.
“Just don’t tell mom.”
Your mind hadn’t stopped racing since the minute you had gotten the phone call from school a few hours ago, now only beating faster as you saw Javi’s truck parked in the driveway at 3:30, before he or the girls would have been finished with work or school. You scooped Harper out of her carseat, rushing inside to see what in the world was going on, only to be greeted by the sounds of giggles and laughter from Javi, Lucy and Elliot along with Mario Kart Double Dash dinging and clanging in the background.
“No Dad, you have to throw the banana!”
“What do you mean, throw it? I still have shells I have to get rid of, right? This game makes no sense and I’m in last place.”
“Maybe if you threw the banana, you wouldn’t be in last place!”
“Uhhhh… What’s going on?” You asked, wondering how in the world you had gone from a very serious phone call with your husband a few hours ago to him and the girls playing GameCube on the couch like it was any other day.
“Hi Mom!” The girls shouted in unison, throwing down their controllers and running over towards you, wrapping their arms around your waist in a tight hug.
“Hi?” You asked wearily, starting to wonder if this phone call had been a fever dream given everyone’s happy demeanor. “Are we not gonna talk about the phone call I got from Principal Coleman earlier today?” You raised an eyebrow at Javi, now making his way towards you, standing on the other side of the girls to sandwich them in between you and him in a hug, leaning over them to press a kiss onto your lips. “Taking them out of school early to play Mario Kart doesn’t look a lot like a punishment, Jav.” You grumbled into his ear, his face still pressed against yours.
“Girls, why don’t you go play so Mom and I can talk about what happened, okay?” The girls happily agreed, taking Harper back over to the couch and resuming their game while you leaned back against the kitchen counter, arms folded over your chest in disappointment at Javi, waiting for an explanation.
“You’ve heard Elliot talk about Hunter in her class before?” You could already feel your guard starting to come down, knowing you had a feeling exactly where this conversation was headed after hearing who was involved. “Apparently, a kid in Elliot’s class was picking on him for being Autistic and pushed him off the swings, so her and Lucy kicked him in the crotch.” You couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief, relief slowly turning into laughter as you buried your face in your hands, letting out a deep exhale before looking back at Javi. “I talked to them and they feel bad about it and know it’s wrong and they’re gonna apologize to the kid, but I couldn’t be that mad at them, right? They stood up for the kid even if they knew it was gonna get them in trouble. I’m honestly proud of them.”
You took a step towards Javi, pulling him in for a hug, resting your head against his shoulder as you spoke into his chest. “God, what are we gonna do with these girls?” The two of you chuckled, Javi snaking his hand down to cradle your cheek, tracing his thumb along your jaw.
“Ask for a raise so we can send Elliot off to law school, apparently. Made a hell of a case in Coleman’s office. Just as head strong as her Momma.” Javi leaned down, letting his nose brush against yours as he tenderly placed his lips on yours, letting them linger for a moment while your smiles crept between them.
“And their Daddy’s sense of right and wrong. Guess we must be doing something right if they care that much.” You smiled, looking up at Javi, his sweet brown eyes beaming down back at you, wondering how in the world you had ended up with 3 of the sassiest, sweetest combinations of the two of you in your daughters. “Okay, well, this was not how I was planning the rest of the day to go, but I guess it’s a happy surprise to have all of us home, so I’ll take it. I love you, Jav.”
“I love you too, Osita.”
You wrapped your arms around Javi’s waist, squeezing him in a long, tight hug as pressed his arms against your back, pulling you in closer as he planted a soft kiss on the top of your head.
“Hey Munchkins, you want a snack and then we can pick something to play outside together?”
“Okay!” The girls shouted from the family room over the background noise of their game until Elliot piped up again.
“Honestly, I’m okay on snacks, I’m still really full from the ice cream.”
You spun back around to look up at Javi, running his hand over the back of his neck, darting his eyes away from yours as you rested your hands on your hips, shaking your head. “Ice cream? Really?”
“Hey, kickin’ ass is hard work.”
Taglist:
@cool-iguana @rhoorl @whyjuliaaa @bbiophiliaa @pertinentpostmortem @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @pedrobaby @fatima-marisa @beboldbebravethings @poodlebae @kittenlittle24 @3sriracha @jungchloee @perennialdoll247 @prettyinpunk85 @partyofone3413 @harriedandharassed @pedrohoe04 @theorganasolo @endlessthxxghts @beware-my-thorns @missladym1981 @messinadress @milly-louise @dappydelta @blackfemalenerd @jay-zzle @the-one-with-the-grey-color @persephone-girl @bitchesuntitled @millennial-teenybopper
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal character fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#javier pena fanfiction#javier pena#javier pena fic#javier pena fluff#javier pena imagine#javier pena narcos#javier pena smut#javier pena x f!reader#javier pena x female reader#javier pena x reader#javier peña#javier pena x you#javier peña fanfiction#javier peña smut#javier peña x f!reader#javier peña x female reader#javier peña x reader#javier peña x you#javier peña x ofc#javier pena x ofc#pedro pascal characters#pedro pascal character#pedrohub#narcos fanfiction#pedrotober
575 notes
·
View notes
Note
White picket fences
Barbed wire and trenches
Trick or treat, merry christmas
Howdy neighbor, thank you Jesus
Oh what is he building in that painted lady?
A participation trophy wife, or blonde, blue eyed baby
Wide eyed and wired, the snap crackle pop of the Geiger
Camouflage billboards for lead lined brooks brothers
You elbow the jukebox and sing duck and cover
And breed out our incisors, feed on white wine and Pfizer
It don’t look like survival, but buy now or die
Suburbiaaaa~
You’re not aloneeee~
The lights are onnnnn~
But no one’s home (so welcome home)
Myers Briggs, OKULTRA
Takes a village to fake a whole culture
Your ear to the playground, your eye on the ball
Your head in the gutter, your brains on the wall
Oh well, home is where heart is
You ain’t homeless, but you’re heartless
It’s the safest on the market
But you still gotta watch where you park it
So give me your half life crisis
I can tell you don’t know where paradise is
Where parasites don’t care what your blood type is
Only pheromones
Is it true that a snowflake only matters in a blizzard
Everyone knows that, nobody knows that
Everybody’s all up in my, everybody’s all up in my
Everybody’s all up in my BUSINESS
Suburbiaaaaa~
Where you belonggggg~
The lights are onnnnn~
But no one’s home (so welcome home)
Chameleon peacocks are talk of the town
Well, word gets around on hit number stations
He cums radiation
The dog bites the postman, while basement eyes dream
Of a night at the drive in, with an AR-15
I dropped my eyeballs in the bonfire
We fucked on a bed of nails
I caught kuro from your sister and died laughing in jail
Smell those screaming teenage sweetbreads on the Fourth of July grill
Smile and wave boys, kiss the cook, live laugh and love
Please pass the pills
It’s only culture, it’s only culture, it’s only
Cultureee~
Sulfur smoke and soot
You learned to torture house cats like vultures
You cocked and sucked your lack of empathy
Pulled the trigger with your foot to prove you’ve got
BLOOD
Didn’t they want your blood?
So why apologize for being blue and cold
Blood, didn’t they want your blood?
So why apologize when you’ve turned blue and cold
🎶🎶🎶🎶
It’s only culture, it’s only culture, it’s only
Ah- ah- ah- ah
Culture’s not your friend
Hey fuck your culture, I ain’t got no culture
It’s only culture and it’s more afraid of you than you are of it!
C’mon drink that blood!
Didn’t they want your blood
So why apologize when you’ve turned blue and cold
Blood, didn’t they want your blood?
So don’t apologize for being blue and cold
Were you Nabokov to a Salinger
Were you Jung to Freud or Dass to a Leary
Were you mother, daughter, subject, and author
You don't make the rules, you just write them down and
Do it by the book you throw around
Do you know the difference between blazing trails and slash-and-burn
Going against the grain and catching splinters
You pull out your Rorschach like a paint-by-numbers treasure map
The ink upon on your jigsaw piece traces you back to your fingerprints
Well Lot he had his lot in life, Job his job and I guess you'll too, and die
The Lord looked down, said, "hey, you're only mortal"
Giveth and taketh away 'till things come out a certain way
Leave you wondering when they might go back to normal
Leave you wondering why they can't have just been normal
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
On the Red-Dirt Road Finale
Pt. 1
Pt. 2
Pt. 3
Pt. 4
Before, Chop Top whacked MJ in the head to knock her out. While MJ was knocked out, she remembered the things that Pennywise translated out for Jason by accident. ‘Does he really think I’m immature? how does he put up to my actions and reactions?’. MJ was tearing up during her unconsciousness. She didn’t think that Jason would dare to come rescue her; since she’s been disobeying her husband’s request, why would he bother? he could be a free man, the kind that can do his bidding.
In the darkness of her unconsciousness, she heard a loud ringing. “DINNER TIME.” Drayton shouted, as he was ringing the bell. MJ woke up feeling all wet and sweaty; perhaps from the aftershock after getting whacked in the head. “Yer goin’ to love Grand-dad, he’s a one-hitter when it comes to hammerin’ down victims.” Drayton explains. He was expecting a scream or a squeal, however, she was quiet. “What’s the matter, aren’t yeh excited for dinner? I know I am, and grandpa too... which reminds me *to his brothers* HURRY UP YOU SLOW-POKES, IT’S DINNER TIME.” Drayton shouted to his brothers.
***
MJ didn’t move a muscle the whole time, even if Chop Top tries to scare the crap out of her, she wouldn’t flinch. “The bitch is in a depressed state; she thought she can be a hero and save her daughter, but instead, she went down to her fate.” Drayton explained with a chuckle. Bubba stares sadly at MJ, before he walked over to her to wipe away the tears that’s been staining her cheeks. “Good call, Grandpa hated salty brew.” Drayton said.
After MJ’s face was cleaned, Bubba carried MJ all the way to the washtub next to grandpa, where grandpa does a one-hitter, only, he keeps dropping the hammer multiple times. If MJ had the moment to make the mock, she’d say: 'He’s a one-hitter alright, he really hits the floor to its death.' But she’s just accepting her fate. When grandpa got the aim, she was knocked out again.
The Sawyers were going to do more to her, until they noticed that the ceiling is falling apart, and that they’ve all heard a weird noise. The noise was coming from the large pipe. Jason jumped out, making a threatening chi chi and ah ah. Even though Drayton have met Jason before, he couldn’t recognize him under his Hockey Mask. “What’s the big idea! What business do you have?” Drayton shouted at the intruder. Jason first removed his hockey mask then puts it back on. “Ah, Jason is it, what’cha doin’ wearing a hockey mask?” Drayton asked with a fake smile. Drayton was unaware that Chop Top was petrified; he knew that the hockey-masked guy was The Camp Blood Legend.
Jason saw from over Drayton’s shoulder, was his wife with her face in the washtub, then the old creepy man in a wheelchair with a hammer. Jason stared angrily at Drayton. “Oh uh, look... I tell you what sonny, I’ll give you some money, if you just spare us and be on your way.” Drayton said while holding out the money from his pocket. Jason doesn’t give a damn about money, he wanted his wife, alive, so he raised his machete and charged at the boys. Jason successfully stabbed Drayton in the behind, which will give him quite a shock. Drayton crawled under the table in fear. Chop Top gave grandpa the hammer before he cowers in fear. “Bubba, get’em down, he’s no match for you, get’em!” Chop Top yelled out at his little brother. Bubba didn’t want to move a muscle; he gave Jason the friendship bracelet a long time ago, does he really want to kill off his friend?
While Bubba thinks, he remembers what Malon has told him, about making the choice for himself, and listen to his own heart. Jason shoved grandpa out of the way and caused the wheelchair to roll backwards. Jason cut the binds from MJ’s arms and tries to wake her up. MJ only groans as she’s trying to get out of her unconsciousness, so Jason lifted up his mask and gave her a kiss by the lips, to help her snap out of her unconsciousness. “...Jay?” MJ said groggily. Jason nodded while tearing up. As Jason hugged his wife tight, Chop Top was going to whack both Jason and MJ in the head, with a hammer that he has picked up when Grandpa fell. Bubba saw what his brother is going to do, so he gave his brother a good whack in the head with a lamp to give him a shock. Jason and MJ were shocked to what they’ve just witnessed. “Bubba! You saved our lives?” MJ asked in shock. Bubba nodded while whimpering; he hit his own brother, his own family, but he can’t stand to see his friends get killed, not when Malon will be missing them.
Without the Voorhees or Bubba knowing, Drayton took a grenade from the Nubbins corpse’s pocket and pulled the ring off of it. “Come with us, Bubba; you can relive a happy life, away from your traumatic events.” MJ offered. When Bubba was about to accept, he heard a faint noise from under the table. Bubba then noticed the grenade that Drayton was using, so Bubba squealed at the Voorhees to make them leave, while Bubba goes over to stop the grenade from hitting his friends, even if it means giving his own life for them.
***
Malon and Aquarius were waiting outside, while Pennywise lays on the sofa to settle his stomach. Then they both heard an explosion. “What was that!?” Malon asked in panic. Aquarius saw that the hideout was about to collapse, so she held Malon in her arms, to prevent her from looking out the bus window. “Is mom and dad back yet?” Malon asked with worry. “Penny, can you sense anything?” Aquarius asked with hope. “I don’t know, I’m still recovering from my tummy ache.” Pennywise answered. Malon didn’t care if Aquarius didn’t want Malon to see, she squirmed out of her grasp and rushed outside. “MOM... DAD...” Malon called out.
Aquarius rushed out to Malon’s side. “Malon... You’re a big girl now, and I believe it’s time for you to face the music... I don’t think your parents made it out.” Aquarius said sadly. Malon looked up with tears. “NO, my dad is alive, and he’s keeping mommy alive too, I just know it... I can feel it!” Malon said with angry tears in her eyes.
After a few minutes, and the dust is settling, they’ve noticed a large figure coming towards them; Jason was carrying his wife bridal-style out of the dust. “They’re alive, thank God!” Aquarius praised. “MOM... DAD.” Malon shouted out before running towards them with happy tears. Jason puts MJ on the ground so they can both give Malon a heartwarming hug. “Look at us, we’re together again... As a family.” MJ said while tearing up. Then something came to Malon’s mind. “Where’s Bubba?” Malon asked in concern. “I wanted to thank him, and take him home with us.” Malon said. Jason and MJ stared sadly at each other before staring back at Malon. “Sweetie, Bubba risked his life for us, he went down with his brothers; it’s all he ever wanted.” MJ explained sadly. Malon’s mouth was wide open after hearing that. “You mean he’s... No... No... NO...” Malon collapsed down with tears running down her eyes. “That’s not fair, Bubba did not deserve this!” Malon bawled. Jason hated to see Malon crying so hard, but he had to get Malon and MJ onto the bus, so he waved at Aquarius to walk Malon into the bus, while Jason carries his wife into his arms again.
***
Once Pennywise was driving, Aquarius took a look at MJ’s injured foot. “I think it’s cute when Bubba tries to fix it with a ‘Hello Kitty’ band-aid, however, it won’t help with the possible infection. When we get back home, we’ll make a stop at my cousin’s place; she performs tetanus shots and other vaccinations. But for now, we have to clean it up and patch it up.” Aquarius said while fixing MJ’s foot.
While Aquarius was cleaning MJ’s foot, MJ and Jason were looking at Malon in the back of the bus. Malon was still upset for what Bubba has put himself into. Jason wanted to join Malon by laying down next to her. He was going to wrap his arm around her, but he assumes that Malon was not in the mood to be cuddled. Until he felt Malon snuggling against him, and wrapped her arm around her dad. Jason also saw Malon tearing up, and is rubbing her face against his side, so Jason patted her head and gave her multiple kisses.
***
After Pennywise drove past the border, Aquarius insisted that they stop at the diner for breakfast. However, Malon didn’t want to eat; she was too much in destress to eat. But MJ and Jason didn’t want Malon to not eat, so they both decided to stay with Malon for a few minutes. “You two go ahead, we’ll come in eventually.” MJ said.
So, once the Grays went in, MJ and Jason sat next to Malon to talk to her. “Sweetheart, we understand that you’re sad over Bubba, but you have to understand that he gave his life for us.” MJ explained. “But why doesn’t Bubba want to come with us? We could have given him a happy life, away from his abusive brothers.” Malon asked with confusion. “He didn’t come with us, because he didn’t want to leave his brothers; they’re his family.” MJ answered. “Even though they’ve been mean to him? Siblings should never be mean to their siblings.” Malon said.
MJ paused as she tries to think of a response. When she looked over at her husband, something came up. “Let me ask you this Malon, remember when your grandparents came over for a visit, and that they’ve been mean to daddy?” MJ asked. Malon nodded. “Well, mainly grandpa, but yeah.” Malon added. “Well, if my parents offered to take you home with them, would you go? I mean, my dad knew that your dad is a serial-killer.” MJ asked. “Of course not, I love you and dad very much! I know dad kills trespassers, but that’s only because he’s protecting us from harm.” Malon explained. “There you go; even though Bubba was bullied by his brothers, it doesn’t mean he wants to leave them.” MJ explained.
Malon nodded slowly after hearing the facts. “It doesn’t help to state the fact that he’s now dead...” Malon said. “But I’m assuming that he’s happy in heaven, and he would want me to be happy too... Though, is it alright for me to be sad?” Malon asked. “Of course.” MJ answered while giving her daughter a hug. Jason smiled at his girls for sharing a bond, until his wife pulled his arm to join in the hug. Once the conversation is settled, the Voorhees went into the diner for a hearty-breakfast.
However, for what Malon has witnessed at the hideout, she didn’t want to eat any meat, so she asked the waitress to hold any meat products; such as sausages, ham, and bacon. “Malon, you love bacon, what’s wrong?” MJ asked. “Clearly for what your kid has been through, she doesn’t want to eat any meat that came from a living creature. So, she chose to live her life as a vegetarian.” Pennywise explained for Malon. “No one was asking you Penny.” Aquarius informed. “Sweetie, being a vegetarian is a big decision; it can be life changing if your body wasn’t used to having protein.” MJ explained. Malon didn’t respond to that; her traumatic event caused her to not have anything to do with murder.
Jason understands what she’s thinking, if he were in Malon’s shoes, he wouldn’t want to eat meat either, thank goodness for him, he can still eat steak. Jason isn’t too worried; Malon is still young, so she might change her mind about wanting to be a vegetarian... He hopes.
Bonus
Back in Texas, the construction workers were taking care of the demolition of The Texas Battle Land. When one of the crew workers was eating his sandwich, he heard someone approaching from behind. When the man turned around, he saw a large man in a leather mask. As the man screamed in terror, Bubba chopped him up with a chainsaw. Once the man is dead, he swung his chainsaw around in the air on the road by the abandoned amusement park.
The End???
#Friday the 13th#Jason Voorhees#IT#IT Chapter 2#Pennywise#Pennywise the Dancing Clown#Texas Chainsaw Massacre 2#Bubba Sawyer#Leatherface#Drayton Sawyer#Chop Top Sawyer#Fandom#Fanfiction#MJ#Malon#Aquarius#Aquarius the Singing Clown
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Going trick or treating
Player: Jordan Henderson
Words: 1831
Requested: Anon
Warnings: Fluff, mentions of pregnancy and miscarriage
A/N: Hope you like it lovely! Thank you for requesting this prompt 😊 I decided to go for Jordan, the idea I had made more sense for him
Autumn masterlist
Click here to be added to the taglist
------------
Jordan heard his wife talk to their daughter in hushed tones. The 3-year-old had been excited for Halloween for weeks, asking every night before bed “how many sleeps dada?”. He smiled and put the cottage pie in the oven, ready to heat up when they got home after the festivities at the AXA. Jordan rinsed the knife and cutting board and dried off his hands, turning around when he heard the unmistakable pitter-patter of their toddler running into the kitchen.
“Okay baby, tell dada,” his wife whispered. Jordan leaned against the kitchen counter, a smile on his face. She looked adorable in her Halloween costume. Their daughter looked up at him, big blue eyes twinkling.
“I’m the Greek Scouser!” she cheered, arms up in the air. Sophie was obsessed with one of Jordan’s teammates, she absolutely adored the Greek left back –much to the amusement of the rest of the team. So when Jordan and Emma had asked Sophie what she wanted to be for Halloween, the little girl immediately said ‘uncle Kos’, and wouldn’t let anyone change her mind. In fact, she had even decided who Jordan should dress as.
“I think my heart just might explode,” Emma said, taking in her daughter’s joy. She had even managed to pull Sophie’s curly brown hair back into a matching miniature bun. Her own hair was pulled back in a ponytail and her and Jordan were wearing the training staff tracksuits. Sophie had been adamant that daddy should be Klopp so she decided to dress as a female version of Pep. It was by far the comfiest Halloween costume she’d ever worn, especially now. Luckily the tracksuit bottoms had functioning pockets so she could hide her hands away. She just didn’t know how to tell Jordan, not after last time.
“Tsimi is going to love this,” Jordan said, running a hand through his beard, pulling Emma from her thoughts. They had spent an hour dying it so he’d look the part and it had turned out better than either of them had expected.
“Alright Soph, let's put your coat on so we can go outside. You can take it off when we’re at the party,” she said, ushering the little girl into the hallway.
For once they stood out in the crowd. Everybody at the AXA had gotten the memo to dress up. Most of the children were dressed as their favourite characters, there were a handful of princesses and a couple of Fireman Sams. Emma even spotted some great Paw Patrol costumes. Jordan was wearing a pair of fake glasses and a baseball cap that looked similar enough to Klopp’s along with the official tracksuit including the initials on both jacket and bottoms. She wore a matching set, but her initials were changed to PL. Emma made a mental note to thank the kitmen for hooking them up with their outfits. Sophie was dressed in the homekit with Tsimikas 21 across the back of her jersey, and a pair of red tights underneath the shorts to keep her warm. She’d even found a pair of official LFC socks in Sophie’s size and the girl already owned a pair of Nike trainers. Suffice to say, the little girl looked ready to play football.
“Shall we go find uncle Kos?” Emma asked Sophie as she took the toddler by the hand before she could run off again. Jordan chuckled and followed them. He worried for his daughter’s heart if Kostas ever left Liverpool. As they made their way through the crowd, they could hear people aww at Sophie and laugh when they spotted them.
“Uncle Kos!” Sophie shouted as she spotted her favourite person, breaking free from her mother’s hand. Kostas interrupted his conversation with Diogo, James and Andy, and dropped to his knees, holding his arms open. Sophie ran into them and laughed when Kostas rose to stand. All four Liverpool players started laughing when they spotted Jordan.
“Oh, that’s amazing. Has Klopp seen yet?” James said.
“No, but I don’t think it’ll take long for him to spot us.”
“Sophie has been practising all day on her best Kostas Tsimikas impression,” Emma said, “can you tell uncle Kos?”
Sophie nodded her head and shouted in her unmistakable Scouse accent: “I’m the Greek Scouser!”
Kostas laughed and cheered for her.
“Careful Kos, you’ve got competition!” Andy said with his trademark grin.
“She even has the Tsimikas bun!” Diogo said, laughing.
“It’s all or nothing for this girl,” Jordan said, looking lovingly at his daughter.
They all turned around when they heard Jurgen’s unmistakable laugh.
“I see our new signing got here!” Klopp said when he joined them. He then moved his eyes to take in Jordan and Emma’s costumes and started laughing again.
“It’s like looking in the mirror. Pep! You need to see this!” he shouted over his shoulder.
“Sophie wouldn’t take no for an answer. Daddy had to dress up as Klopp,” Emma explained. Klopp laughed again. He himself was dressed in lederhosen, playing into the German stereotype.
“I see we can take tomorrow off,” Pep said with a grin when he joined them. Emma shrugged.
“I can teach them all about stretches and how the muscles work, but I’m useless at running drills,” she said. The men laughed at that.
“Hey, maybe that’s just what they need,” Jordan said with a grin.
“Ready to get all the candy Soph?” Kostas asked the little girl. She turned to look at her parents.
“You can go with uncle Kos if you want baby,” Emma said, “Mummy and daddy will be right here, okay?” Sophie nodded. Kostas took the tote bag Emma had brought for her and carried her to the first person handing out sweets.
“Our baby’s all grown up,” Emma said with a pout. Jordan chuckled and pulled her against his side, wrapping an arm around her. Emma looked up at him.
“I’m not ready for her to grow up Jord,” she said.
“I know, neither am I. Guess we’ll just have to accept it.”
Emma sighed and nodded. Jordan smiled and gave her a quick kiss.
“Okay, now that’s just wrong,” Andy said, shuddering, “Klopp kissing a female Pep. Thanks for the nightmares.” Jordan and Emma laughed, watching Andy go to find his own children.
“It is a little weird,” Emma said, “the grey beard does evoke more Klopp and less Hendo.”
Jordan chuckled. “I’ll rinse it out when we get home.”
“Good, I prefer to share my bed with Hendo.”
“Glad to hear that,” Jordan said, kissing her again. Emma smiled into the kiss, resting a hand against his cheek.
“I need to tell you something… I was planning on a big surprise but I can’t wait any longer,” Emma said after she broke their kiss. She suddenly felt nervous, her heart hammering against her chest. Emma hadn’t planned on keeping this a secret for as long as she had, but seeing as her last pregnancy ended with a miscarriage at 8 weeks, she had wanted to wait a little longer before telling him. And with Jordan’s away fixtures on top of all the travelling for the Champions League and her work schedule, there had hardly been any time for the two of them to spend together.
“Emma? What’s wrong?” Jordan asked, worry evident in his voice.
“Nothing’s wrong. I-.. Everything’s really good, actually. Remember what we talked about when we came to visit in Switzerland?” Sophie had spent a day being spoiled rotten by his teammates while they got to spend some much needed time together as husband and wife. After they had spent the entire day in bed, they had talked about what their future would look like. A tiny spark of hope fluttered in his chest as he looked at her, nodding.
“Uhm, well, turns out we scored in Switzerland,” Emma said cryptically, fiddling with the cuff of her jacket.
“Are you-... Really?” Jordan whispered, eyes wide. Emma nodded, eyes brimming with tears.
“I’m almost 15 weeks,” she whispered back. Jordan let out a relieved laugh, hugging her to his chest.
“You have no idea how happy that makes me. Another little baby,” Jordan said, a lump in his throat.
“Soph is going to be the best big sister.” Jordan smiled and brushed her tears away with his thumbs.
“Dada! Dada, look!” Sophie called from halfway across the room. Jordan and Emma turned to look at her. Kostas had moved her to on top of his shoulder, her tote bag in his hand.
“Did uncle Kos get you all the best sweets?” Jordan said when they were in front of them. Sophie nodded enthusiastically. “I got so many sweeties dada! Even ma-teasers! Uncle Kos carried them all!”
Sophie’s joy was infectious and all the adults chuckled.
“Good thing uncle Kos is very strong, baby,” Emma said.
“I strong too!” Sophie said, not at all impressed that her mum would discredit her strength.
Emma chuckled. “I know you are, baby. Alright, say goodbye to uncle Kos. The party’s over and we need to go home.” Kostas lifted her off his shoulders and gave her to Jordan, handing the tote to Emma.
“Bu-bye uncle Kos! Will you come play soon? I got a goal from Nanna for my birthday!”
Kostas smiled. “How about I ask Thiago to come with Isa and Leo and we have a competition?”
“Yes!” Sophie said, “can we mummy? Pwease?”
Emma pretended to think for a moment. “Alright then,” she said, feigning giving in to their plans. Sophie cheered, arms stretched above her head. Jordan smiled lovingly at his daughter. He couldn’t wait to see her as a big sister. He said his goodbyes to his teammates and friends, and carried Sophie outside to the car.
Sophie was fast asleep, the excitement of the Halloween party having worn her out. Jordan had managed to get the grey hair dye out of his beard. He had changed the jacket for one of his old sweaters, but was still wearing the tracksuit bottoms. Emma had changed into a pair of pyjama bottoms and a long sleeve top.
They had settled in on the couch. She had put a record on, neither of them feeling up to watching anything. Instead they just snuggled under a blanket, both with a hot drink.
“May I?” Jordan asked. Emma nodded, instantly knowing what he meant. He smiled that loving smile that always made her heart skip a beat, and scooted down so his head was resting in her lap. He gently put a hand on the slight swell of her stomach, rubbing it slowly with his thumb.
“Hi baby, I’m your daddy. I know you can’t hear me yet, but we love you so much already,” he murmured against the fabric of her shirt. Emma swallowed back her tears, resting a hand on top of his. She couldn’t wait to see him holding a tiny newborn, but for now she was more than content to stick to daydreaming about it.
#football fanfic#football oneshot#football drabble#jordan henderson fanfic#jordan henderson oneshot#jordan henderson drabble#lfc fanfic#lfc oneshot#lfc drabble#liverpool fc fanfic#liverpool fc oneshot#autumn prompts
18 notes
·
View notes
Note
The dimitrescus, Donna and Mother Miranda x 👨 reader. Reaction when reader is working out shirtless? (Love your works by the way, can't stop reading all of it!💕)
Broken Truth (Looks at Ask): This is interesting...LET'S GO!!!
- Alcina Dimitrescu -
Alcina was walking around the castle, looking for her lover.
When she woke up - he was not in bed.
When she went to the kitchen - he was not there either.
She searched the garden (He loved tending to the flowers), the library (He would read there with Bela), the armory (Daniela loved showing her father figure all the weapons she had), and the study (He would pat with Cassandra) - he was not in any of those places and none of the girls had seen him.
Then she remembered that her lover had been having a hard time lately when Mother Miranda commented that he didn't look like much and wasn't worthy of being by Alcina's Side.
He spent most of his money on him - none of Alcina's - to purchase metal contraptions to 'become worthy of his wife'.
He had been in that room for hours on end for about 5 months now.
'He might be in there.' Alcina wondered as continued down the hall to her Husband's Workout Room.
The closer she got to the room - the door was open and the light was on the room - the sound of grunting and metal clanking together got louder and louder.
She ducked her head a bit and walked into the room - holding her hat to make sure it didn't fall off - and rose to her full height. She opened her mouth the speak but once her sight was no longer obscured by the brim of her hat, her jaw dropped, her face began to warm up, and her body tingled.
Before her - her husband stood: his back was to her and he was wearing nothing except his boxers - his very tight boxes; she would see his defined butt and it was amazing.
In his hands were large weights that he lifted and flexed his muscles - Alcina could see every muscle flex.
His skin was shining with sweat and the smell of his musk was driving Alcina crazy - she wanted to jump his bones. So very bad.
What she didn't know was that her beloved had developed a sense to detect her and knew she was watching him...so he decided to tease his Lady and Mistress.
He dropped the weights in his hands and raised one of them opened palmed to the sky before summer suiting forward and landing on that hand to where his feet were pointing to the ceiling before beginning his set of one-handed push-ups. This time - facing her.
Alcina's eyes widened at her lover's chiseled body - the drops of sweat flowing through the cracks of his abs and biceps...then she made the mistake of looking up and saw the large bulge in his tight underwear.
That's it - she had enough.
"Beloved." She called out, making the man look at her with a smirk - her face was bright red and she was biting her bottom lip.
"Alcina, My Love. When did you arrive?" He asked faking confusion.
"That doesn't matter. I need you to accompany me to our bed chambers. Now."
"Our Bed Chambers?" The man asked as he flipped him to stand upright. "It is breakfast time, is it not?" He raised an eyebrow as he walked closer to the tall woman - his scent flooding her nose.
"Well..." Her eyes glowed dangerously, "I'm having Blood Sausage for breakfast."
She grabbed his wrist and marched to their room with him in tow, locking the door, and refused to leave that room until she was pregnant with the Latest Dimitrescu Spawn.
- Bela Dimitrescu -
Bela was bored and in need of some cuddles so she went looking for her lover - the only man-thing her mother and sisters approved of.
She looked at the grandfather clock and saw it as around 9:45 - her lover would be in his workout room to burn off any extra energy before showering and going to bed.
She floated down the hall to her husband's workout room and walked into the room without knocking - it was her man and she could do whatever she wanted regarding him.
What she wasn't prepared for was the sight on the other side of that door.
Her Husband was boxing with the sandbag.
In nothing but his boxers.
She could see everything - from the singular drops of sweat that ran down his sculpted body to every single flex of muscle with every move he made.
If the sight didn't have her done it - it was his smell.
The room was filled with the smell of musk that he was giving off and it was intoxicating - it radiated power and it was making her hungry.
"Darling?" His deep voice returned her from her fantasies of all the ways she wanted him to rock her world but the fact she could see his imprint from his shorts sent her mind back into the gutter. "Bela, is there something wrong?"
"Do you always...working out like this at night?" She questioned as she walked slowly to her man.
"Yes, it's hard to move in clothes; I keep my boxers on just make sure I don't scar any maids."
"Scar Them?" Bela tilted her head with a dangerous gleam in her eyes. "What do you mean by that?"
"Well...the one time I worked out naked, a maid came in without knocking and she looked like she saw a ghost."
Bela was pissed.
"A maid saw you naked?!" She hissed. "Where is that harlot?!"
"Your Mother turned her into wine 3 nights ago."
'Good, I won't have to kill her myself. As for you..."
"NGH!" He clenched his teeth as Bela's hand wrapped around his throbbing manhood.
"You're going to learn to lock your door when in this room...and punishment for failing to inform me about that whore."
The Next Morning - Bela & [Y/N] weren't at breakfast.
- Cassandra Dimitrescu -
Cassandra would already be with her beloved because they were each others' sparring partners.
Cassandra would be doing push-ups while her beloved would be jumping rope.
She would look at him and smirk - she loved the way his body moved during intense workouts and the smell he gave off was perfect; it made her hungrier and hungrier with each passing moment.
When it would be time for the spar - her lover would use one arm to test himself more than he needs to for he wanted to be worthy of dating a Dimitrescu Daughter.
While sparring - Cassandra would try to pin him and have her ay with him - whether that would be drinking his blood or having him devour her like a full course meal.
This time - it was different.
She threw a punch at him but it was grabbed by his free arm and used against her to wrap around her neck, once he was behind her, he used his knees to the back of hers to make her fall to them and then lay on the mat.
Once his other hand was free, it snaked around her body and into her shirt, where it grabbed and twisted one of her nipples - making the girl squirm under him.
"D...Darling? What are you...?" She began but was cut off when his teeth locked into her neck.
"Every time we train, you make me submit to you. This time - you're mine, Cassandra Dimitrescu."
And his was exactly what he made her.
Daniela walked down the hall looking for her sister when she heard moaning coming from behind the door leading to the training room - she leaned in to listen and went to find her mother.
"Mother?"
"Yes, Dear?" Alcina asked as she looked up from the book she was reading.
"Why didn't you tell us Daddy was coming to visit & he brought presents?"
"Darling, you don't have a father."
"Then why did I hear Cassandra saying "More, Daddy! More!" in the training room?"
Alcina went wide-eyed as the glass in her hand shattered and the one thing she thought was...
'I'm too young for grandkids...'
- Daniela Dimitrescu -
CHOMP!!
"OW!!!"
She smelled something delicious and followed that smell to her lover's training room and found him completely naked with the exception of his undergarments, shadow boxing himself.
He looked like a full snack with the sweat making his body glaze and his muscles looking like beefcakes - he was just begging to be bitten and that's exactly what she did.
"Daniela? What was that for?" He asked her as he looked over his shoulder at his wife - who was clinging to his back like a koala with her fangs in his shoulder blade.
"I couldn't help it, love. Your scent was driving me crazy and I was in the mood for a snack." Daniela tried to say but her fangs were still in his skin.
"Dani, I was training, and as much as I would move to be your mid-morning meal; I need to get back at it if I want to keep the form you love so much."
"I love you for who you are - the body is just a plus. I don't want you to train, I want you to take me to bed and cuddle me."
"But..."
"Do you love me?" Dani asked.
"Yes, without a doubt." He answered.
"Would you do anything for me?" She asked again.
"Without question." He said.
"Then I want you to stop training and take me to our bedroom so that we can cuddle and make little vamp-babies."
"...Okay."
- Donna Beneviento -
Donna would be walking around Beneviento Manor - looking for the man who stole her heart. Who accepted her and her dolls and loved them all equally.
He wasn't in his normal spots but she did remember that he recently got interested in getting in better shape and asked her if there was anywhere in Beneviento Manor she would be alright with him making it into a workout room - she gave him one of the rooms on one of the floors under the house floor.
Donna walked down the hall without Angie as she followed the sounds of something grunting in effort echoing down the hall's walls.
She reached the opened room but didn't want to just walk in and disturb her love so she peeked around the corner and her eye widened while she let a gaspy moan escape her lips,
Her lover was laying on the weight bench with a long metal bar in his large hands - giant iron circles on each end.
She looked closer at the circles - 500 Pounds. That made her shiver - she knew he was strong but to be able to bench that much was...alluring.
She looked at his shining skin.
Listening to her man's grunts with each lift of the bar.
The define lines in his muscles with each movement he made.
It made her hot. She rubbed her legs together before she hid behind the wall completely and pressed her forehead against the cold wall.
She needed to get a hold of herself - she was like she had no control of herself but when she was around him, it was like she forgot all she was and wanted nothing more than her man.
She was so focused on keeping herself from relieving herself right then and there that she didn't notice she was no longer alone until a familiar weight pressed against her back and she was completely pressed against the wall.
"It looks like you have a very serious itch, My Love." his voice growled as his hand moved closer and closer to her throbbing organ.
"I...I can explain..." She blushed in her weak, gasping voice; she was embarrassed but having her lover so close with his body radiating power made her weak.
"Let me...help you with that, My Lady." He growled before one hand reached the buttons on the top of her dress and the other was cupping her womanhood while she bit her lip in hopes of being silent.
A few moments later - he had her on that same bench that was still drenched in his sweat and scent, her hands gripping the metal poles that held the long rod over her head' sweat dripping from her body as she was stretched apart.
She was pleading for him to continue to Beneviento Bloodline with her.
Begging him to make her family's bloodline stronger than it ever was before.
Crying for him to make her a mother.
Who was he to deny his lady what she wished?
- Mother Miranda -
Miranda stood n her lab, looking at the results from the latest experiment and possible host for Eva but once again - it wasn't good enough and it makes her angry.
Once again - so close but so far away.
"Miranda? Love?" A familiar male voice called out to her.
She looked up at was met with the shirtless, bare-chested, sweaty body that was the man she entrusted her heart to.
He stood there in the doorway with a towel around his neck while one hand used an edge of the towel to wipe the sweat from his face.
The Village Leader blushed but then looked away from him to keep from looking upon her face.
"[Y/N]. Darling. I thought we talked about you walking around the lair like that. It's rather...distracting." She said.
"I do hope you'll forgive me but I sensed that something was bothering you and I wanted to make sure you were alright." The man said as he walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her stomach and pulling her back into his bare chest.
"Your...concern for me is welcomed, Darling, but I must return to work. Please, do prepare yourself for dinner; I shall be down in a moment." Miranda said as she reached for a book, only to her lover's hand to stop her.
"Miranda." He turned her to face him - worry and compassion in his eyes. "You've been working on this for over a week straight; you haven't taken any time for yourself...or for me." He was sad - afraid his lover had forgotten about him.
"My Love, I'm sorry I have made you feel this way but...I'm so close, Darling. I can return her to us and...MPH!" She was cut off by a deep kiss. She melted into it before he pulled away from her.
"Enough of this for one night, My Love. Let me take care of you...and make you see you don't need to Cadou for a child. Just...me" He kissed her again and she wrapped her arms around him; submitting to his command and desire.
It would be a year later that Miranda would invite the Lords to meet Eva and Ethan Winters arrived in the village - only for his wife and child to be given back to him and escorted out of the village; never to be seen again.
#resident evil 8#donna benevient x male reader#alcina dimitrescu x male reader#bela dimitrescu x male reader#cassandra dimitrescu x male reader#daniela dimitrescu x male reader#mother miranda x male reader
387 notes
·
View notes
Text
whi
white picket fences barbed wire and trenches trick or treat merry christmas howdy neighbor thank you jesus what is he building in that painted lady a participation trophy wife or blonde, blue-eyed baby wide-eyed and wired the snap-crackle-pop of the geiger camouflage billboards for lead-lined brooks brothers you elbow the jukebox and sing "duck and cover" and breed out our incisors, feed on white wine and pfizer it don't look like survival, but buy now or die suburbia you're not alone the lights are on but no one's home so, welcome home meyers-briggs, ok-ultra takes a village to fake a whole culture your ear to the playground, your eye on the ball your head in the gutter, your brains on the wall home is where the heart is you ain't homeless, but you're heartless it's the safest on the market but you still gotta watch where you park it so give me your half-life crisis i can tell that you know where paradise is where parasites don't care what your blood type is only pheromones and serotonin decide if it's true that a snowflake only matters in a blizzard everyone knows that nobody knows that everybody's all up in my, everybody's all up in my everybody's all up in my business suburbia where you belong the lights are on but no one's home so, welcome home chameleon peacocks are talk of the town well word gets around on hit number stations he comes radiation the dog bites the postman while basement eyes dream of a night, at the drive-in, with an ar-15 i dropped my eyeballs in the bonfire, we fucked on a bed of nails i caught kuru from your sister and died laughing in jail smell those screaming teenage sweetbreads on the 4th of july grill smile and wave, boys kiss the cook live laugh and love please pass the pills it's only culture it's only culture it's only culture – sulfur, smoke, and soot you learned to torture house cats like vultures you cocked and sucked your lack of empathy pulled the trigger with your foot to prove you've got blood didn't they want your blood? so why apologize for being blue and cold? blood didn't they want your blood? so don't apologize for being blue and cold it's only culture it's only culture it's only culture's not your friend hey, fuck your culture i ain't got no culture it's only culture, and it's more afraid of you than you are of it go on, drink that blood didn't they want your blood? so why apologize when you turn blue and cold? blood didn't they want your blood? so don't apologize for being blue and cold were you nabokov to a salinger were you jung to freud or dass to a leary were you mother, daughter, subject, and author you don't make the rules, you just write them down and do it by the book you throw around do you know the difference between blazing trails and slash-and-burn going against the grain and catching splinters you pull out your rorschach like a paint-by-numbers treasure map the ink upon on your jigsaw piece traces you back to your fingerprints well lot he had his lot in life, job his job and i guess you'll too, and die the lord looked down, said, "hey, you're only mortal" giveth and taketh away 'till things come out a certain way leave you wondering when they might go back to normal leave you wondering why they can't have just been normal...
#folks. please enjoy the entirety of suburbia overture with no periods paragraph breaks or capitals#please do not try and read this you will die#will wood and the tapeworms#will wood#suburbia overture#the normal album#im so sorry for this#eyestrain
54 notes
·
View notes
Text
Don’t Worry, Darling (one-shot)
Synopsis: Falling in love with a co-star is something that can hurt, especially when it seems like they’re talking to other people behind your back, but falling in love with a co-star and being unable to help when they’re sick, is even worse.
Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader
Genre: angst, fluff, SMUT
Warnings: COVID-19, sickness, swearing, SMUT (fingering, m going down on f, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it))
Word count: 11 968 (yoikes)
Please note I’m not trying to make light of the pandemic or the virus and those impacted by it. It’s a very real and serious thing, which is why I decided to use it. Please stay safe and healthy, follow the local health guidelines and if you have the ability please get vaccinated. Let’s keep ourselves and one another safe, frens :)
When Y/N got the call she’d gotten the role of Jack’s ex-wife who’d disappeared in mysterious circumstances, she was over the moon. As a Marvel alumnus, she was excited to work with Florence, as she’d loved Midsommar, and knowing she was going to be one of the new faces carrying the next Marvel chapter, she wanted to get to know her. Having played Tony Stark’s adopted daughter since the age of six, she was very protective of the franchise but was excited to see where it’d go.
Then Shia LaBeouf, Chris Pine as well with Dakota Johnson’s announcements coming soon after, Y/N got even more stoked, and with Olivia Wilde leading all of them, she was sure the movie would be a hit.
Shia and Dakota had to drop out due to scheduling issues (which Y/N couldn’t lie – she was kind of happy Shia couldn’t do it), and that's where Harry Styles took over the role of Jack with Kiki Layne Dakota’s Margaret.
Now, when Y/N had seen Harry’s picture next to the re-cast e-mail the whole production had been sent out, she might’ve had a little (a massive, like a ginormous) freak-out. As much as she’d grown up listening to classic rock, due to Robert Downey Jr. and Iron Man, she’d been an avid One Direction fan. Like to the point, it might even seem a bit creepy. Y/N had sort of grown out of the obsessive phase of it all, but most definitely admired the solo albums they’d been able to produce, and when Dunkirk came out, she was excited to see Harry join the acting world, with the amount of talent he had.
The first table read was sort of awkward, and definitely the weirdest one, given how a pandemic had started, and everyone was at their respective homes using Zoom.
Y/N and Florence had been the first to join the conversation about half an hour before the official beginning, and by the time everyone else did, they were crying from laughter and had to excuse themselves from their computers to collect whatever remaining composure they had.
“You two alright?” Oliva Wilde had raised her eyebrow, as the women re-joined, still chuckling. “Will we have to use body doubles for the scenes you two are in?”
“No!
“Nohooo!” both of them yelled through laughter. “We’ll be as professional as professionals are. Which is very professional.”
Then Y/N made the mistake of glancing at Florence’s square, and the two busted out laughing again, spewing apologies in between, but no one seemed to really mind. In fact, it looked like they appreciated how casual and open everyone was being, hoping the set wouldn’t be stiff either when they moved onto filming.
And for the two women, it wasn’t really. Actually, they grew closer than ever. The amount of time Florence spent in Y/N’s trailer was to the point that the two started to talk about just moving in together. After scouring the nearby apartments for rent, they settled on a three-bedroom apartment, as two-bedroom ones were non-existent.
When Harry grew closer to them as well, given how he spent quite some time with both women, they suggested he move in as well.
“You know, what? I changed my mind. You’re taking away our closet, and I don't like that,” Y/N pouted, watching as Florence lifted a pile of her clothes and moved it to her room. “That’s not very ‘treat people with kindness’ of you.”
All he did was flick a finger at her forehead, which Y/N swatted away with a smile. When he’d double-checked about moving in with them (which, mind you was the seventh time, and half his stuff was already there), the two women were ecstatic. They got along amazingly on set and basically having a sleepover with friends every night suited all of them quite well.
At that moment, Y/N was sitting on the edge of her bed, knitting while Harry painted all of their toes and Florence put on facemasks.
“Wine!” Y/N suddenly exclaimed, almost knocking over the light blue nail polish bottle as she jumped up, throwing her needles back on the bed. “We need wine!”
“Do not ruin my masterpiece!” Harry hollered after her, as she waddled away on her heels, toes separated by foam and hight up in the air. She even had to manoeuvre around the carpet to avoid any hairs and fibres that could get stuck inside the still wet lacquer.
It took her a second to find a bottle all three of them could enjoy, given their tastes were so different – Y/N preferred sweet and red, and didn’t care if it was a three-dollar bottle from Target, Harry had a bit more of an expensive pallet, giving preference to something with a more of a lingering aftertaste and in the higher ranges of price point, while Florence liked rosé and white wines.
Taking two glasses in one hand and the bottle with a third glass between her fingers, she shuffled back to her room when she heard the two muttering something in low voices before Harry whispered harshly, “I’m not telling Y/N that!”
“Won’t me what?” Y/N’s question made him and Florence spring back where they’d been engaged in a heated conversation when she re-entered the room, putting the wine bottle and glasses on the nightstand.
Florence waved her off, giving her a smile, she didn’t believe in. “Nothing. Now come on, Harry will do your fingernails now, and I think it’s about time the mask came off.”
And that’s when Y/N’s heart dropped. She’d been in the industry long enough to know how fake people could be, how they could put on smiles so inviting and friendly while hiding their true intentions behind them. She just didn’t think two people she’d found so genuine and sweet would be like that.
And the thing was – it wasn’t the first time she’d heard the two whispering like that and hushing up when they saw her enter the room or even come somewhere near to them.
In the beginning, Y/N had chalked it up to the two being closer, given they had to spend more time together, so they knew one another better, but this time sort of solidified it wasn’t the fact the two were closer, it had to deal with Y/N specifically.
So, she started to distance herself. She’d had enough users in her life to last her for the rest of it. Y/N excused herself from the movie nights they had on most Fridays, she no longer joined in on the cooking sessions and mostly spent time in her room, or on work calls.
When she re-entered the flat, four weeks after their falling out, they watched as she nodded to them, and went inside her room, closing the door, much like she’d been doing for the past thirty days.
“Do you think she knows?” Harry asked, brows furrowed and bottom lip between his teeth as he hoped the doors would open, yet, obviously, they didn’t.
“Well, I haven’t told her, and unless you did, then I doubt it…”
Harry stood up, running a hand through his hair. “I’m gonna talk to her.”
“You think it’s a good idea?”
“No, but if she’s upset maybe she needs to talk to someone.”
“Or maybe she wants to be alone.”
Harry bit his lip thinking over Florence’s words. When he was upset about something, he himself did like to kind of retreat and become a little bit of a recluse, to sort out his emotions before anyone else tried to jump in and help with it, but the thing was – Y/N’s distancing started the night when she’d walked in on the two of them arguing, and it’d been about the girl in question herself, so he shook his head. “I’ll just ask if she’s alright.”
He took a deep breath and went to enter the room he hadn’t seen in almost a month. “Hey.” Harry poked his head through Y/N’s door, making her swirl around in her chair. She looked adorable to him. She’d changed into a big fluffy nightgown, the hood up, a headband pushing hair away from her face with a green facemask covering her skin. The domestic life flashed through Harry’s head like a freight train, as it was something he craved, but pushed it away. There was no daydreaming before figuring out what was in front of him in reality. “You okay?”
“ 'M fine.” She shot him a quick smile. “Why? Did Olivia send something new for the script?”
“Um, no, ‘s just you’ve been, I dunno – detached a bit?”
“Look, Harry… I may be younger than you, but I’ve been in this industry longer than you or Florence.” Y/N stood and shrugged before crossing her arms. “And the thing is – I don’t care for shit like that. So, you two can gossip and whisper and talk whatever you want about me behind my back. Everyone else is doing that so, you’re not that special. But’ I’d prefer if you did it somewhere else besides my room, my space, and I’ll say this once, but very clearly – we’re not friends. I don’t need friends like you. We’ll be civil and we’ll do our jobs, but…” Harry’s heart broke at her eyes, seeing the pain in them as she nodded and made sure he understood where she stood. “We’re not friends.”
She didn’t leave any room for argument. When Harry left, Y/N didn’t even look over her shoulder to see him exit.
The next couple of mornings she didn’t see them leave nor come back, seeing as Y/N had the week off from filming, but the morning of the seventh day was awkward as hell, given how all of them had to go and get tested, and well, they had their allocated time slots one after the other. Usually, they’d take one car together, but this time, Y/N drove off on her own, while Harry and Florence carpooled on their own.
The tests were always nerve-wracking. If one person went down, the whole production did for at least two weeks. And as much as she hated going in alone, she was glad no one was with her in the car, because as she stepped out, a certain notion swept over her that this would be a lot different than usual.
A doctor dressed head to toe in protective gear motioned for her to sit down, as another processed her ID and work ID. Her leg was bouncing up and down the whole time, and he eyed her. If she could see his lips, she was sure they’d be pursed. “Anything wrong?” He handed her back the IDs before moving to the table where a set of large q-tips seemed to lay in sterile packs.
Y/N sighed, biting her lip and nodded. “Woke up with a sore throat and a small cough appeared on my way here as well. I wiped and cleaned everything down at the apartment I’m staying at and wore gloves and a mask the whole time.”
“Anything else?” the doctor asked, writing down each word as Y/N said. “The feeling of breaking bones, fever, muscle pain, eyes hurting when you look up, lost sense of smell or taste?”
“No, nothing like that. Just a sore throat and a small cough.”
The doctor let out a large sigh, probably from having to wear a full-on hazmat suit. “Alright. Just for safety reasons, so we know who’s a potential contact person, who are you staying with?”
“Florence Pugh and Harry Styles. We’re renting an apartment together.”
“Do you know if they’ve had any symptoms?”
“No,” Y/N shook her head honestly. “And I haven’t really interacted with them this past week, as they’ve been on set, and I didn’t have any scenes to film, and by the time they get back, I’m already asleep, and I’m still asleep when they leave so there’s been no direct contact. We have our own kitchenware, so there shouldn’t be any direct contact. I think.”
That last bit was half-true, seeing as she hadn’t been asleep when they came back, but she might as well have been. The second Y/N heard the door click, she’d place her headphones on or leave the room, only glimpsing the two faces falling as she did that.
The doctor clearing his throat and motioning for Y/N to open her mouth so he could take a swab and then to do the same for both her nostrils, was what brought her out of it. She was so used to it, it was like nothing at that point. “Okay. We’ll need you to stay in the car while the test is being run, and if it comes back positive, you’ll be placed in a separate flat, as to not endanger the rest.”
Her ‘alright’ was barely audible. Fuck. It just felt like the universe was against her. First, the two people she’d gotten closest to were whispering behind her back and being fake to her face, now she might have a super contagious virus to which there was no medicine really, nor was there a vaccine, let alone the thought she’d have to miss filming for potentially more than two weeks.
The thirty minutes of wait were agonizing, her leg bouncing up and down. Y/N’s eyes kept watching the line of cars slowly move forward through the tent and then settle behind hers. She knew Harry was about five cars away, and she was glad he wasn’t closer. They weren’t really allowed to get out of their vehicles while the tests were being run, and Y/N didn’t think she’d be able to not look back at him through her review mirror.
Two more minutes passed when finally, one of the med students in the full hazmat suit came up and knocked on her car window.
“Miss Y/L/N?”
“Yes?”
“ID please.” It was standard so that no med info got leaked. The only reason she had to rummage through her stuff was, because she’d bite the little plastic card in half if she didn’t throw it somewhere deep inside her bag.
“So.” The man sighed, and he didn’t need to elaborate. Y/N understood, but still, he had to confirm it to her. “Your test came back positive for COVID-19. The production has been informed, and for safety reasons, everyone will have to self-isolate for two weeks.”
Y/N’s head slammed against the back of the seat. “Fuck. Okay.”
“Because so far, you’re the only positive case, you’ll be placed into quarantine. We’ll need the address you’re staying at, and if you need anything from your apartment, we can send someone over to grab a few things. You’ll have to follow the black SUV right there.” He pointed further down the lot where indeed a black SUV stood. “They’ll take you to where the quarantine apartments are. Is there anything immediate you’ll need?”
“I – uh – I need my pills, my birth control that is. I take it every evening. Computer, chargers. That’s the most immediate I can think of. Maybe some food? I didn’t get the chance to eat breakfast.”
Even through the mask, Y/N could see the man smile. “Well arrange that. In the meantime, here’s the number for the coordinators who’ll get you the rest of your things and deliver them to you.”
“Thank you. I’ll call my assistant, and she’ll drive down to the apartment. She knows where everything is.”
“Have you been in close contact with her?”
“Just through the phone. She hasn’t been on set in almost a month, as I told her only to come when it’s an emergency… Guess this is it.” Y/N let out an awkward chuckle.
And truly that was it. With one last motion as to where the SUV stood, she started back up the engine, reversed out of the spot and followed the car to where the ‘Don’t Worry Darling’ production had set up a few quarantine apartments, specifically for actors and crew, speed-dialling her assistant Anna and letting her know of the situation.
“Shit, girl,” she’d cursed. “That sucks.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Okay,” Anna huffed. “Do you have a spare key for the apartment by any case or do I need to go down to the lot and ask Harry or Florence?”
“Both of them will be at the apartment, given how everything’s shut down, so they should be able to open the door for you. Hopefully, if both of them are negative. If not, call me, I’ll tell you where we hide the spare. Thank you, Anna.”
“Of course.”
As Y/N pulled up behind the SUV, a man and a woman in face guards and masks stepped out. She ended the call and stepped out as well, pulling on a cloth face mask, an envelope in their hands, which they handed to her.
“Your flat’s on the third floor, 367. When you have the list of things you need, forward them to us, and we’ll gather your things.”
Y/N nodded and gave them a tight smile. “Thank you. I’ll be as quick as I can.”
With a sigh, she took her bag and entered the complex. As much as she’d only had a small cough in the morning and a sore throat, walking up those flights of stairs made her winded more than it usually would. Maybe it was the knowledge she had a sickness, or maybe it was stress about missing work and putting everyone on lockdown, or maybe it was the combination of it all with her falling out with Harry and Florence on top.
She placed the key in the lock and twisted, revealing a studio type apartment, and it was so bare it made her heart clench. As much as she felt awkward being around Florence and Harry, their flat was a bit messy, had little pieces of clothing thrown around, giant knitted blankets on the sofas, a candle always lit whenever someone was home. Harry’s shoes were typically all over the place while Y/N’s make up was scattered around everywhere. Literally. Florence and Harry had gotten back early one morning from a night shoot and found her looking under the sofas for one of her lash glues as she started to get ready for the day. They’d made that flat their home for the time being. This… this was nothing like that.
She threw the keys on the small kitchen counter and shrugged off her jacket. They was going to be a long two weeks. At best.
***
Back at their place, Florence and Harry were pacing around, having heard the news that someone was positive, and everything had to shut down for the time being, yet Y/N was nowhere to be seen when a knock at the door disrupted them.
Harry was there and flinging it open in a matter of a second, only to be stopped by Anna instead of Y/N.
“Hey.” His brows furrowed as she and two people all wearing masks and gloves entered. “What’s going on? Is Y/N alright?”
Anna sighed, nodding her head for the two strangers to go towards the woman’s room. “She was the one who tested positive for the virus. Gave me a list of the things she’d need while in quarantine. We’re here to pick ‘em up and get them to her.”
“And she’s not doing that here?”
“Per the safety instructions, she’s been placed in a separate flat in self-isolation.”
“She could’ve done that here. We’d be fine with it,” Florence butted in, arms crossed over her chest. “We’re more than willing to take care of her. She’ll need someone to help her.”
“You both tested negative.” One of the people piped up, carrying a box of books and yarn. “I’m sorry, but she’ll have to quarantine separately until she’s no longer infected. She’s under the supervision of doctors, and she knows if an emergency happens, they’ll be there in ten minutes tops. I’m sorry, but this is how it has to be.”
Harry sighed, nodding as the people exited their place, but before Anna could leave, he took hold of her bicep. “Hey, can you please tell her to call me? I just wanna talk.”
“I uh – ” Anna furrowed her brows, showing Harry that Y/N hadn’t said anything to her about the falling out they’d had. “I’ll uh, yeah. I’ll do that.”
With that he was left to close the door and just wait for… anything.
***
In the two hours Y/N had spent in the apartment, she already felt like going insane, having been left alone with her thoughts, so how she was going to do another two weeks after finally getting back into the rhythm of work was beyond her. She didn’t have any of her knitting supplies, didn’t have any of her books (yet), and most likely there was no reason to look at her script anymore, as she’d made up her mind about a lot of things.
There was a knock at the door, and Y/N instantly had a mask on her face and gloves on her hands. She peeped through the peephole and when she saw boxes lined in the hallway, three people in masks and faceguards at least six feet away, only then did she open the door and give them a wave.
“Everything should be here, but if you need anything else just pop me a message.” Anna then pointed at a bag that sat atop everything. “There are the most important things, so you don’t have to rummage through everything and a pizza is on the way while I do some grocery shopping for you. And umm, there’s a paper you need to sing that you know you need to be in self-isolation and that you understand what happens if you’re not.”
Y/N hoped all of them understood she was smiling underneath the mask, grateful for having them help her out like that. “Thank you. So much.”
She rushed inside found a pen and signed it, moving between the boxes to place the papers on the stairs so that they could be safely retrieved. With that, the two assigned people left, leaving Anna to say goodbye.
“Call me.” She pointed at Y/N. “No matter what, even if you just wanna talk for five seconds.”
“Will do.” Y/N nodded and gave her a thumbs up. “If I could, I’d hug you.”
Anna sighed, cocking her head. “Same. And umm, Harry told me to ask you to call him.”
“Yeah, uh thank you.” She knew he probably wanted to talk, so it wasn’t that big of a surprise, but it still made her stumble on her words. “Take care, Anna.”
“You too.”
***
The next two days Y/N spent worrying as to how to present her decisions to the cast and crew. She felt worse with every hour, and with that had come her thought process, but as much as everyone was going to be impacted by what she was going to do, Olivia would be the one dealing with it most, so later that night she hopped on a Zoom call with her director.
“Hey, girl.” Olivia gave her a warm smile, and Y/N almost melted. God, she loved that woman. She was like the older sister she never had. “How are you doing?”
“I’m alright. Feelin’ kind of woozy from time to time, throat’s killing me, and I’m fairly certain I’m getting abs from how much I’m coughing.” That made both of them chuckle before Y/N bit her lip and ran a hand through her hair. “Look,” she sighed, looking at Olivia. “The reason I called you is that umm… well, I think it’d be a lot more cost-effective for you to re-cast me. We’ve barely shot one scene with me. I’ll be out of commission for two weeks, as a minimum. It could get worse. And I’m definitely not going to be back before I get two negative consecutive tests.”
Olivia shook her head, running down her hands over her face and then through her hair. “Y/N, I really don’t want to do this. There’s a reason we cast you. You’re amazing, and yours and Harry’s chemistry is off the charts. We’re all quarantining for two weeks, and I’m sure you’ll be fine in no time, back on set and killing it like you always do.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Of course, I do! Nothing’s gonna happen to you.”
“All I’m saying it could take up to a month to get those two negative tests. By that point, you could’ve shot at least a fourth of my scenes. Olivia…” Y/N gave her a small, sad smile. “I know you know I’m right. I hate to pass on this, but I won’t hinder the production. If you want my input, I’ll help with the re-casting, if it takes the guilt away.”
“I still feel like shit this is an option we even have to consider.”
“’S not your fault. You didn’t get me sick. We should be happy it’s just me, not someone else or more than one person.”
***
For two more days, it was radio silence from Y/N, and Harry and Florence were anxious messes. If they could distract themselves from the falling out while on set, then now, having to be cooped up inside the apartment with pretty much nothing to do, was so much worse, not to mention Y/N declined all of their calls and left their messages on read, leaving the only option for checking in either through Anna or what she decided to share on her social media, which wasn’t a lot. But the thing was, Harry knew his best bet was to call Y/N in the middle of the night. Disorientated and barely awake, she probably wouldn’t look at the caller ID once. And he was right.
A bleary face appeared on his screen, eyes squinting as she tried to block out as much of the light as possible. “Hello?” Her voice was scratchy, and Harry’s heart clenched at just how much pain her throat must be in, let alone how she was feeling as a whole.
“Hey, there, lovie.”
It took her a second to comprehend the person who was speaking, and she’d be lying if she said hearing Harry’s voice didn’t bring her some sort of joy. “Hey, H. Are you alright? Why are you still up?”
“I couldn’t sleep. Kept thinking about you.”
Y/N hummed, rolling on her side, and immediately regretting it as the action elicited a coughing fit. “Yeah?” she asked hoarsely. “ ’Nd what about me?”
‘How shitty I feel about everything’, ‘I miss you’, ‘I’m so fucking terrified’, but instead he asked, “How are you doing?”
“Alright,” Y/N croaked out before her body was racked with coughs once more. Harry’s own chest hurt just hearing them. “Fever’s finally down, so I’m getting some sort of sleep. Throat’s killing me though, and they’ve hooked me up to an IV. They’ll be coming in two hours or so to change the bag. How are you?” she asked quietly. “How’s Florence?”
“She’s alright. Upset. Just like I am.”
Y/N’s brows furrowed. “Why’re you upset?”
“Are you kidding me? You’re sick, alone in quarantine and… and we can’t help you. I can’t help you.”
A genuine chuckle escaped her. “Didn’t know you had a medical degree, Styles. Could be my personal nurse. Fetch me my water and shit.”
“No, but at least I’d like to be there for you.”
“Harry…”
“I like you,” he said after taking a deep breath, hoping that the break he’d heard in Y/N’s voice as she’d said his name wasn’t just because of the sickness, but because her heart thudded just as fast as his when he thought of them together, that her mind reeled with the possibilities of where their futures could take them and that whenever they touched, she could feel the electricity that ran through his fingertips, igniting his whole body. “That’s what Florence and I were whispering about all the time. Is that I’m madly crushing on you, and I couldn’t gather the courage to say it to you.”
A strong coughing fit made her drop the phone on the bed and lean over, as she gasped for breath, and through it all, all Harry wanted was to be there. Fuck him possibly getting the virus, as long as he could make it easier for her in some way.
“ ’M sorry,” Y/N whispered, trying to keep her voice as low as possible as to not aggravate her throat. “Harry, I’m so sorry.”
“Hey, there’s nothing to apologise. You’re sick, you can’t help –”
“No,” she shook her head. “I’m sorry I assumed you and Florence were talking bad behind my back. I never should’ve done that. And this is not an excuse, I’m not trying to shift the blame from being in the wrong, but I like you too.” She gave him a shy grin that he thought was as bright as the sun. “I really like you too, Harry. I think that’s why it hurt so much to hear you two whispering ‘bout something. And thinking it was about me, and it was something bad, hurt even more, ‘cause I really connected with Flo, and I kinda, well I kind of fell for you. Hard.”
“You did?” His tone was like he didn’t believe what his ears were hearing.
“Yeah. A lot actually… I – I really like you, Harry.”
He couldn’t explain how his heart expanded in his chest while simultaneously was being crushed by his inability to help, by the distance between them, while the hope that glimmered in his eyes at Y/N’s words made her heart break as much as his was, when he asked, “So you won’t resign?”
“Harry,” Y/N made her voice as tough as it could sound with her condition. “I told them to re-cast me not because of you. I’ve been on enough sets and worked with enough pricks, and still gotten the job done. Genuinely, this is not because of you or Florence. I just – I just don’t want to hold up production. You’ll all be out in what – twelve days or something? I’ll be here for at least twice that, if everything goes the way it’s going right now.”
“I don’t want anyone else to play Larie. You are my Larie,” he muttered, which made Y/N smile, but in a true Y/N fashion she just wanted to make others feel better.
“You do know Jack murders Larie in the middle of the night.”
Harry’s mouth opened like a fishes’ while Y/N’s mouth pulled up in a grin. “That’s – that’s not what I mean, and you know it!”
Both of them were laughing now, all tension having evaporated.
“I know.” She bit on her lower lip. “But um… we’ve gotta be practical. I sent Olivia my resignation letter already, and she signed.”
She saw Harry sigh and throw back his head at her words.
“ ’M sorry, Haz. I didn’t want to but –”
“I know.” His smile was gentle, understanding. “You always put everyone before yourself. God, this just sucks major ass.”
“Trust me,” Y/N started before being interrupted by another major coughing fit. “I –,” she took in a breath. “I know.”
Her heart cracked seeing Harry’s face and his green eyes, the eyes she’d gotten lost in more times than she’d ever admitted being lined by tears. “I wish I could help you.”
“But you are. Just by – by talking to me, by keeping my mind off things. You’re helping me more than you’ll ever know.”
“When you get out, I’m taking you on a date.”
Y/N couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on her face. For the first time in a while, she felt good, despite being sick. “Is that a threat, Styles?”
“It’s a fucking promise.”
That night she fell asleep listening to Harry talking, seeing as it became harder and harder for her to do so, so he just took over, telling her stories that lulled her to dreamland where he was there, and she could touch him.
The following days she also had calls with Florence and the rest of her cast to explain the situation, but she wasn’t doing much talking anymore, and one night they’d even seen her almost throw up from coughing so much, which broke everyone’s hearts. They were lucky the only Covid case before Y/N had been a light one, so witnessing just how brutal it could be, made everyone appreciate what they had, but at the same time, feel as helpless as ever.
A week and a half in, that was when shit really hit the fan. Despite her feeling shitty the previous days, now Y/N woke up from the feeling as if she was drowning. She’d fallen asleep while talking with Harry on FaceTime, his features illuminated on her phone. At first, she thought it was just her dream still lingering and causing that effect, but when after a minute or so her lungs still remained on fire, she knew she had to dial the doctors.
In five minutes’ time, an ambulance was at her door, and it was a miracle she’d been able to get out of bed to open it because the second she did, her whole body pretty much collapsed into the arms of one of the nurses.
***
“Come on,” Harry muttered into the phone, pulling on a pair of trousers as quickly as possible and a knitted sweater he took from the floor as he immediately tried to redial her, having heard the call drop. “Come on! Pick up, Y/N!” Her voicemail answered instead.
“Damn it!”
It took Harry seven minutes with the way he was driving to get to her assigned isolation place, only to be greeted by red and blue flashing lights, an ambulance right in front of the entrance, and it took Harry five seconds to feel his heart drop as a team of three doctors wheeled out a gurney on which lay Y/N, face covered in a mask, an IV stuck inside her arm while a huge plastic cover domed over her body.
Without even thinking about himself or his safety, Harry jumped out of his car, rushing towards the ambulance.
“Sir.” One of the doctors extended a palm towards him, keeping him back as Harry tried to get towards the inside of the car. “Sir, you can’t be here.”
“Is that Y/N?” Harry felt like he was spinning out of control, and his mind was dizzy from not being able to take in a proper breath. “Is – is that Y/N?”
“Are you family?”
“I –,” Harry so desperately wanted to say yes, to say he was her boyfriend at least, but he couldn’t lie. “No, I’m just her collegue – friend! I’m her friend. Is she alright?”
“Okay, well is there anyone we can contact from her family?”
Harry nodded, knowing that her mum and dad were on her emergency contact lists. “But her family is out of the country, and they won’t be able to fly out with all the restrictions in place.”
“Alright.” The doctor sighed before looking back inside the car. In a way, Harry was happy he couldn’t see Y/N because he was sure if he did, he’d completely break down and crumble to the ground. “We’ll contact her parents, but if you could leave us your number as an emergency contact on place that’d be a lot of help.”
“Okay, uh…” Harry took in a deep breath, held it for five seconds and then let it out before reciting the number he used while in the USA and his permanent UK number as well, so he could be reachable anywhere and at any point in day or night, no matter the time.
“Well keep you up to date.”
And with that, the ambulance doors shut, and they rushed away, the vailing of sirens echoing in the dark night, leaving Harry with a hand in his hair, tears streaming down his cheeks and without a clue as to what to do.
***
In the end, Harry had gone back to his car and cried for what felt like ages, but instead, it was just twenty minutes. He pulled himself together but was still shaking as he made his way back to the flat where Florence basically ripped open the door. Seeing his face told her everything she needed to know.
“She’ll be alright,” the woman muttered as she soothed Harry by rubbing a palm up and down his back, letting him hide his face in her shoulder. “It’s Y/N. She’d pull through an atomic bomb.”
They spent the rest of the night and the following day on the couch, glued to Harry’s phone waiting for any sort of updates. From time to time a text message came from the hospital letting them know what procedures were being done on Y/N, that her parents have been informed, and if necessary, they’d allowed Harry to be the main contact person because of his proximity to their daughter.
Three days later and the quarantine for the rest of the cast and crew ended, yet when they returned to the set, everyone was in low spirits. Especially, Harry – he was miserable. Every moment spent not reciting lines or acting was occupied with the thoughts of Y/N, how she was doing, was she improving, was she still breathing, how he wanted to just ditch everything and run to her, to help in whatever way he could.
“This sucks,” Florence grumbled, arms crossed over her chest as they took a break while re-setting already in for the fifth day of filming, eight since Y/N’d been in the hospital. “Can’t believe they won’t allow a phone in with her.”
“It’s the same policy for everyone, but trust me,” Harry sighed and looked up at the bright blue sunny sky above. “The number of times I got out of my bed in the middle of the night and had the car keys in hand is ridiculous. And the number of times I’ve thought about breaking into that hospital is even more concerning.”
Florence let out a small chuckle and nudged his shoulder. “I’d cover for you if you did. As long as she doesn’t have to be there alone.” She hung her head, blond strands falling down to curtain her face. “Can’t imagine how scared she must be.”
Harry just sighed. There really wasn’t anything he could say.
Something vibrated in his pocket, but he no longer furrowed his brows when unknown numbers called, knowing it was from the hospital. It was nerve-wracking though to pick up the call each time because he had to mentally prepare himself for the possibility of bad news, even though he always hoped for good ones.
“Yes, hi. Hello. I – oh,” he put a hand over his mouth and sagged down onto a chair. “Oh, thank god, thank you, doctor. Yeah. Yes, I’ll let her know, and someone will be there to open the flat. Thank you again. For everything.”
He took away the phone from his ear and stared at the ground for a minute before leaping up and hugging Florence, laughter escaping his mouth.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong, it’s the opposite. Y/N’s out of the hospital.”
“Oh thank god!” Her hands flew to hug him back.
“She’ll have to stay in self-isolation until the two negative tests and will be monitored by the doctors, but she’s out.”
Immediately he was dialling her, and Harry had never been as happy for the invention of a video call, because when he saw Y/N’s face light up the screen, as tired as she looked, it was the most beautiful sight that graced his eyes.
“Hey, lovie.” His voice was soft and low as if anything louder would worsen her state.
Her ‘hey’ was barely audible, but he heard it, and it made the weight of a boulder drop off his shoulders.
“I’m so – I mean we all are so happy you’re back home.”
Y/N smiled, shaking her head. “I’m happy too,” she whispered. “I missed you. Missed everyone, but most of all I missed you.”
Harry was happy they were separated by a screen because if she was anywhere in a five-mile radius, he was sure she would be able to hear his heart beat out of his ribcage at her words. “How are you feeling?”
“ ‘M alright,” Y/N tried to let him know. “Very tired.”
“Then get back to sleep, lovie.”
Y/N shook her head. “Wanna talk to you.”
“I’ll keep talking,” Harry promised. “Like we did before, okay.”
“Okay…”
And so, he did. He kept talking as Y/N listened, and he watched as her eyes slowly closed before she drifted off to sleep. Even though Harry had to go back to filming, he didn’t dare end the call. He’d never end the call.
***
It took a month and a half for Y/N to get those two consecutive negative tests, to feel somewhat human again and when she did, she probably garnered at least seven speeding tickets with how fast she was driving down to the set.
It was the most inconspicuous outfit she could scramble together, consisting of a hoodie and baseball cap, as she watched Harry as Jack lean down to peck the actress’s lips, then step into the vintage car and rev out in the driveway, while a dishevelled Florence started the scene from the side, eyes racking over Jack’s first wife, who was dressed the exact same way, hair styled like hers and even nails painted the same, her character putting all the puzzle pieces together.
“And cut!” Olivia yelled across the lot, nudging Y/N’s side and giving her a smirk. “He’s gonna freak. You’re all he’s been talking about on set. We almost had to put a ban on you as a topic,” she muttered that part so only the woman could hear while telling everyone to re-set, so they could do the scene from another angle, but not before asking the three actors to come and look at the monitors so they could understand how to move in order to keep the continuity.
Y/N moved to the side, ducking her head down as Harry, Florence and Mandy, the actress that took over her role, all leaned closer to watch the monitors. Y/N had to bite on her lip to keep the grin away, as all of them analysed their movements and the scene, nodding along to what Olivia was saying.
“Y/L/N, what do you think?” Olivia asked, grinning.
Y/N stepped forward a bit, seeing all of their shocked faces through her peripheral, as she pointed to the screen, lifting her head so that everyone could see her face fully. “I think it’s great, you might want to step to the side a bit more, Harry, when –” but she was unable to finish the sentence as he swooped her in his arms, lifting her basically off the ground, and burying his face in her neck.
“Watch the hair! Daniele will have a fit if you ruin her masterpiece!” Y/N laughed, holding one of her hands on the base of his neck, the other tightly wrapped around his shoulders, but he just shook his head, and she could feel tears splash her skin.
“Fuck the hair!” He let out a small chuckle, and she could hear the lump in his throat. “I’ve missed you so much. I was so scared.”
“Same,” Y/N whispered. “Missed you like crazy. And your stupid, unfunny dad jokes.”
“ ‘M hilarious, lovie, what are you talking about?”
He finally set her down but didn’t let go of her waist, and she smiled cupping his cheeks. “A true comedian, that’s what you are.”
“I know. Why’dya think I got that SNL slot?”
But his eyes, as he gazed into hers once more glassed over.
“Hey,” Y/N cooed wiping away the tears running down his cheeks. “Don’t cry. Please don’t cry, cause then I’ll cry, and we’re both gonna be crying messes, and then these guys will have to deal with that.”
Harry sighed, leaning into her touch. “Happy tears, lovie. All happy tears.”
The two looked at one another as if there was no one else in the universe. And for the two of them, there really wasn’t. Neither had to say what was on their minds, they already knew.
His face was inching closer to Y/N’s, and heart started to beat erratically, not that Harry minded, as his palm rested in the middle of her back. In fact, his own heart mimicked the rhythm, but it stuttered when someone behind him cleared their throat and interrupted their moment.
Y/N hid her face in Harry’s chest as he sighed at Olivia’s raised eyebrow.
“You’ll be able to smooch as much as you want, but we need him in hair and make-up.”
“Oli-“
“Now,” she let out a small laugh. “Before Daniele removes my head from my shoulders.”
“Go,” Y/N patted his side. “I’ll still be here.”
“Is that a threat?”
She grinned up at him. “A fucking promise.”
Harry dashed away like lightning, hoping that the quicker he was done, the sooner he could have Y/N back in his arms even if it was for a second, but her attention was taken by a woman with long blond curls, a flowing green slip on her figure; her steps unsure as was the wave she gave her, but Y/N’s heart melted at the sight of her.
“Hey, Flo,” she whispered and brought the girl in a bone-crushing hug, holding onto her, trying to convey how much she regretted her words and actions, especially because they were unwarranted.
“I’m so sorry,” Y/N said, and she nodded.
“Me too.”
Y/N shook her head. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry about. I shouldn’t have assumed.”
“And I should’ve made sure Harry pulled his head out of his ass.”
That made both of them laugh, and it was nice to do it not only without having to cough up her insides, but to do it with someone she’d connected with and had become great friends with.
“He did that. I just hope if he wants to make another move, it won’t take me dying to push him to.”
Florence pointed at her, a serious look on her face. “I’ll kill him with my bare hands if he does.”
A small noise of someone clearing their throat from behind Y/N took both of their attentions for them to go onto the actress who’d been cast as her replacement, the woman coming forward and extending her hand for a handshake with a nervous smile. “Hi. I’m Mandy.”
“ ‘S very nice to meet you.” Y/N tried to give off as open and accepting of a vibe as much as possible, because she genuinely wanted Mandy to feel respected and that she wasn’t a threat. “Before you think anything if you’re worried about me taking the role, don’t. It’s all yours, so don’t worry about that. I just stopped by ‘cause I hadn’t seen anyone in almost two months. Never thought I’d say this, but fuck did I missed people.”
Mandy shook her head, her smile a lot lighter and brighter now. “I – uh thank you for that actually. I’m a huge fan of yours, and well, can only try and live up to what you would’ve portrayed.”
“Well, I’m sure you’ll absolutely kill it, and I can’t wait for the movie.”
It was great to see Mandy’s shoulders drop in relief. “Would it be too much if I asked for advice on the role?”
“No,” Y/N laughed. “But I would say that you should make this role your own. It is yours. You are Larie now. And Harry’s Jack. Make it yours.”
As she said that, she turned to watch Harry who was practically bouncing on his feet, green eyes flitting back to where she was standing, and when their gazes met, neither could help the smiles blooming on their faces.
“You know he messed up a scene once and said your name?”
Y/N’s brows furrowed as she looked over at Mandy. “What do you mean ‘said my name’?”
“It was a kissing scene. The wedding bit, actually. As Jack and Larie recited their vows, and he leans down to kiss her, he was supposed to say, ‘I’ll love you Larie, until the very end’. He said your name instead.”
That hit Y/N more than a semi-truck wheeling a ton of bricks would. Yes, she knew Harry liked her, and he knew she liked him, but love was a big word, and for him to admit that, whether it was a flub or not, was even bigger.
Harry was a private person. While he openly talked about what he felt, he guarded heart at the same time, much like Y/N did. But she had to wait until Olivia yelled cut for the day, and had to watch him make a mad dash for hair and make-up before running to the dressing trailer as he didn’t want to miss out on a second he could spend with her. Even as they walked up to their shared flat and he opened the door, his fingers stayed intertwined with hers.
“How does it feel to be back?”
“Kinda shitty, honestly,” Y/N laughed throwing the keys to the table and shrugging out of the jacket and taking off the cap, Harry immediately helping her and putting it on one of the racks. “I’ll have to move out, now that I’m not part of the movie.”
“Why? ‘S not like the production is paying our rent, we’re doing it out of our own pocket.”
“Yes, but now that I don’t have a job, I kinda need to look for one.”
“And what says that you can’t live here while you do that?”
“I –,” Y/N’s brows furrowed. “I mean nothing, really… I just… kinda thought because I’m not part of the movie anymore it’d be safer if I found my own place. But um… I think I have something else I’d like to talk about. Mandy,” Y/N dragged out her name a bit, a sly smirk appearing on her face, “told me you had a flub on set.”
Harry’s heart was pounding underneath her palm where she’d grabbed onto the lapels of his dress shirt, so he couldn’t run away.
“I’ve uh,” he let out a nervous laugh. “I’ve had a couple of flubs on set. Who hasn’t?”
“I don’t doubt that. But she said you misspoke a name.”
She made him look into her eyes and wouldn’t dare let their gaze break. “You said my name during the wedding scene. You said Y/N. Not Larie.”
Harry looked like a cross between a deer in headlights and a fish out of the water, eyes wide with his mouth opening and closing, no sound coming out, which made Y/N worry a bit.
She placed a palm against his cheek. “Harry? You alright?”
“I – I meant it.” He let out a deep sigh and leaned down to press his forehead to hers. “And when I thought back on it, I don’t remember seeing her face or Larie’s face. It was yours. And the lips I was kissing belonged to you too. I was holding your hand, and you were holding mine. And I know it’s way too quick, for a wedding -”
“Unless you threaten me with it –”
“I –,” Harry stuttered before laughing, all tension evaporating from his body. “No, that I don’t want to be a threat. That will be a question asked with love and hopefully an answer given to it the same way.”
Y/N nudged his nose with hers. “Well, we’ll see. I mean if you don’t kiss me what makes you th–,”
But she didn’t get a chance to finish the sentence before his lips were on hers, pressing with such gentleness, it made her weak at the knees, and she would’ve crumbled if Harry’s arms handn’t woven around her middle, fingers pressing into the sides, the pressure increasing with each second their mouths were connected.
Harry’s hand drifted up Y/N’s back and settled on her neck as if he could pull her any closer, her own palms slipping over his stomach, pecks and grabbing onto his jaw, fingers lightly scratching at the stubble that’d grown throughout the day. He had to shave every morning for the role of Jack, but each evening she’d see a small, darkened shadow across his skin, and Y/N would be lying that when she’d realised her attraction to him, she hadn’t thought about how delicious it would feel to have it leave small burn marks on the inside of her thighs.
Unconsciously, she clenched her thighs, trying to create some sort of friction which became more and more unbearable as she felt Harry moan into her mouth, tongue sweeping against her lower lip, asking for permission without words, which Y/N granted without a second to spare.
It was heavenly to have him so close to her. She did wonder if the sensation was intensified by the fact, she hadn’t been able to touch anyone properly for almost two months, but that thought vanished when his fingers skimmed underneath her hoodie, brushing against her heated skin. No. It was because it was Harry.
“I –,” he was breathless as he pulled away, but Y/N didn’t let him get too far, her lips attaching themselves to his neck, making him groan in pleasure. “I don’t want to push this too far.”
Her brows scrunched up, as she took a look at him. “What do you mean? If you think I don’t want this, then let me be perfectly clear – I do. A lot.”
Harry chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t get me wrong, I’m so fucking glad you do, but… Y/N you just got out of the hospital, where you were on a ventilator. I don’t want to make anything worse.”
“Not your choice to make.” A devious smile appeared on her face, as she stepped a few feet away and lifted her hoodie over her head, making Harry inhale sharply. “So here are your two options.” Her hands went behind her back, unclasping her bra and letting it slowly drop to the floor, the green eyes that hadn’t left her now wide as saucers. “Number one.” She toed off her boots and popped open the button of her jeans. “We can stop this, obviously, just say the word, and I get to my room, start packing and looking for a new place. We can have some dinner and just chill. Or number two.” Y/N hooked her jeans behind her thumbs and slowly dragged them down her legs, revealing more and more of herself to Harry. “We can go inside your room and make up for the lost time. In every position imaginable, for as long as you want. But.” Y/N’s eyes glimmered with mischief as she made her way to Harry’s room. “I don’t think you wanna take the first option.”
Harry ran a hand through his hair, turning it from the meticulously gelled hairstyle into a mop of messy strands. “You know you’re making it really hard for me to be a gentleman.”
Y/N swayed her hips a bit more as she took another step closer to his room, the door meeting her back, and one of her hands went to the doorknob, pressing down on it. “Well, a gentleman doesn’t kiss before the first date, and definitely not like that.”
He stood there, hands on his hips, eyes not leaving her body, as she cocked her head. “So, what’s it gonna be?”
They were ten torturous seconds for both, hearts beating out of their chests, but it only took three steps for Harry to cross the hallway, his hand sneaking behind Y/N’s back and pressing down on the doorknob as well, revealing the inside of his room. It was messy, much like her own, but it wouldn’t take too much to rip all off the tossed around bedding leaving a whole bed to themselves.
“You. Are. The. Devil.”
Her smile was nothing short of wicked. “I mean you can listen to the angel on your shoulder.”
“I’d rather listen to you.”
Together they stepped inside, and Y/N nodded. “Making good choices already.”
“Can’t get on your bad side, can I now?”
“I mean you can.” Her legs hit the back of his bed and she fell down on it, Harry leaning over, resting his elbows next to her head. “But bad boys get punished.”
His nose skimmed over hers. Now he was the one smiling like a devil. “I’ll hold you to your word. For future reference, that is.”
That kiss was nothing like their first. This was messy, and passionate, all tongue and teeth, hands grabbing everywhere possible to get the other unclothed. Or at least that’s what Y/N was trying to do, seeing as she was pretty much naked already, and Harry was the one still wearing too much.
Her hands pretty much ripped open the shirt. It one of his expensive Gucci ones, she was quite certain of it, but it didn’t seem like he cared, as he shrugged it off, throwing it to land somewhere on the floor.
Y/N sighed into his mouth as her hands were now freely allowed to run over his chest, over the ink embedded into his skin, over taut muscles that relaxed under her touch, and dig into his sides in an attempt to leave her own marks on him, much like he was going to do to her.
“Think you can take your pants off? It’s only fair.” Y/N muttered into his mouth and his own travelled down to her cheek, then neck and to her chest.
“You mean my trousers?”
Her lips quirked up and she shrugged her shoulders. “No, in this case, I meant pants the British way.”
“And if I’m going commando?”
Y/N pressed her hand against his chest and pushed him away from her. “You had nothing underneath all day on set?”
“No! I wouldn’t subject the dressing department to that. But underneath this.” He looked down at his jeans and smiled at her. “I do have nothing.”
“Well then? Get on with it!”
Both of them were giggling, as Y/N tried to unbuckle Harry’s belt, his own fingers mixing with hers as he went for the zipper and the button. He nudged his head towards her. “Your socks and pants come off as well. Or we’ll be unevenly matched.”
Y/N lifted her eyebrow, as she went for her own remaining pieces of clothing. “No socks during sex?”
“No, what kind of a weirdo do you think I am?”
“And if my feet get cold?” She threw them away somewhere.
“We have a blanket.”
As Harry removed his jeans and his own socks, Y/N slipped off the dampened piece of clothing that’d been on her, now both of them completely naked.
“Alright.” He leaned over her again, her arms wrapping around his shoulders and pulling them chest to chest. “Happy now?”
Y/N deeply kissed him. “Very. But I think we can make each other even happier.”
“Agreed,” Harry hummed. “Wanna get a taste first.” He attached his lips to her collarbones sucking a bruise there. “Can I?”
She groaned at the feeling, knowing there be a pleasant ache that accompanied mark. “You can. Don’t have to, if you don’t want. No need to do this for me.”
“And if it’s for me?” Harry was moving lower and lower with each word, wet tongue flicking against a perked bud, and making Y/N gasp. “What if I wanna feel you cum on my tongue, and what if I wanna do something I’ve dreamed about for months now?”
His hands were kneading her breasts, mouth having left a trail of kisses down the middle of her stomach as it was moving towards where an ache that’d been left untreated made itself more and more prominent.
“Then please, please, please do something, Harry.”
“With pleasure.”
Luckily for Y/N, she didn’t have to beg any more, as his mouth attached itself to where she wanted him most, tongue sweeping past her lower lips and licking up a broad, steady stripe.
One of her hands went to fist into her hair and the other into Harry’s. “Shit,” she moaned. “Fuck, that feels good.”
“Guide me.” He licked a circle around her clit. “Tell me how you like it.”
“Mhgm, fuck, okay,” Y/N breathed out. “I – I mean you’re doing great on your own.” Her chest was heaving as if she was running a marathon, and Harry shifted her legs so that they lay over his shoulders. “But umm, like if you lick around my clit, but like really press down li – oh, fuuuuck, just like that.”
The coil in her stomach tightened with each pass he did, just like Y/N had instructed, small tight circles just how she did with her fingers, only what took her sometimes half an hour, Harry managed to do in less than ten minutes, to have her toes curling and hands grasping anywhere they could find purchase to just keep onto something real.
The vibrations from Harry humming sent shivers straight to her core. “What else, lovie? What else, do you like?”
“If – if –,” Y/N panted, “if you suck on it, but like – fuck – shit! If you kinda keep a seal around my clit, that fuck! Yes!”
The way Harry was eating her out was almost sensational, but what made it even better wasn’t that he just decided to do something and assumed, she’d like it, he asked, he wanted to learn and discover what made her tick and turn, or in this case – cum.
“Harry, ‘m close,” Y/N warned him, feeling the warmth slowly start to spread all throughout her body.
“I’ll get you there.”
He let his lips go for a moment before slipping two of his fingers so that they pinched her clit and moved them slowly but tightly up and down it, while his tongue went to slip inside her hole, and that did it for her.
With a gasp of air, Y/N’s eyes rolled to be back of her head, hips lifting up as euphoria exploded through her veins. Her mind went completely dizzy, and she was quite sure some drool also dribbled down the side of her mouth because she’d lost all ability to function.
“ -o me, love,” Y/N heard as if through a fog, and then felt two soothing palms running up and down her legs. “Come back, love. There you go.”
A drunken smile bloomed on her face, and she ran a hand down it, the same hand that’d grabbed Harry’s hair like a vice. “Fuck. You’re good, you know what you’re doing.”
“Well, I’m certainly glad you enjoyed yourself because I thoroughly enjoyed myself.”
She watched as he straightened out to sit on his knees, her legs still over his shoulders, cock slapping against his stomach, and when she looked down there was a wet patch on his side of the sheets, a sly grin morphing on her face. “You liked eating me out so much you came yourself?”
“What can I say – bringing pleasure, gives me pleasure. And your cunt’s probably the sweetest I’ve ever eaten. But… do you think you’re ready for me?” Harry asked, kissing the inside of Y/N’s thighs and watching as she vigorously nodded her head, but he just smirked. “I think I need to test it out. Just to make sure.”
“Harry,” Y/N whined as she felt his fingers skim the apex of her thighs, teasing her.
“Don’t wanna hurt you.”
With that, he used one of his hands to open up her lips, his thumb pressing down on her already sensitive clit, eliciting a gasp before he allowed two fingers to skim her entrance and then slipped in.
“Still so tight,” he said, watching as Y/N sighed and her mouth fell open, his fingers curling in a come-hither motion. “Told you needed to check if you were ready. What kind of a gentleman would I be now, if I didn’t make sure you could take it?”
Y/N gritted her teeth. “I can take you.”
“Don’t doubt it.” Harry left kisses along her leg, as he continued on with his movements, noting how her hips slowly started to grind down on his palm, so he pushed his fingers in deeper so that the heel of his hand could rest against her clit, making the pleasure intensify. “But I’d never forgive myself if I hurt you when all I wanna do is give you pleasure. And you weren’t stretched out enough. Not yet at least.”
“Oh, god, Harry,” Y/N groaned, one arm thrown over her eyes as his fingers hit just the right spot.
“That’s it? Right there?”
“Yes, right there,” she moaned. “Just. Fuck! Just don’t stop, please, don’t stop.”
“Gonna cum again?”
“Yes, just – just curl your fingers and twist them a bit more.”
And much like the first time, a couple more times was all it took. Her orgasm was even more powerful than the previous and fully knocked her breath out of her lungs. Her legs fell open around his shoulders, stomach and chest spasming from the intensity.
Gentle fingers skimmed up and down Y/N’s arms and featherlight kisses fluttered over her breasts, then chest, neck and finally were peppered across her cheeks.
“Kinda spaced out on me there. You alright? Not too much?”
“ ’M – I’m good. But I’m pretty sure you’ve killed me.”
Harry chuckled, and Y/N leaned her head to the side so she could press a kiss against the closest of the swallow tattoos. “Hopefully not. I still wanna take you out on that date.”
Her eyes landed on Harry’s left hand’s ring finger, where a golden band still laid.
“Oh, yeah.” He lifted the digits, still covered in her cum before pushing them past his lips and licking them clean. “Forgot to remove it. Hope the prop guys don’t kill me.”
She hated how his eyes sparkled, absolutely knowing what that sight did to her, how it made her stomach flutter and heart thunder against her ribs. Y/N was sure with the force it was pounding, they’d crack.
“Well, if they don’t, I will.” She pulled him down, nails raking on his skin, dragging to rest on his ass as they bit into it. “Now get inside me.”
“Condom.”
“No, ‘m on the pill.”
“I’m clean, I swear, but it’s still not a hundred per cent safe.”
Y/N shook her head. “I’ll buy the morning-after pill. Just need you inside.”
“You sure?” Harry placed a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Yeah. I mean I’m clean, and uh… I just wanna feel you.”
He’d cum once already, and Harry would be dammed if he did it again before having the chance to know how heaven feels like. As gently as possible, he took himself, giving a few strokes before nudging the tip against Y/N’s clit, her sharp inhale stalling him until she nodded.
Her nails dug into his biceps, as he finally slipped inside her, making both of them moan at the feeling. Even with all of the stretching out he’d done with his fingers, and the two orgasms he’d drawn from her, the slickness helping everything to be easy and smooth, Y/N still felt a little sting.
Harry’s head dropped to Y/N’s shoulders and even from under him, she could feel his thighs and stomach shaking, as he tried to hold his composure and give her a little bit of time to adjust.
A couple of deep breaths later, she tapped his ribs. “You can move now.”
“ ‘ya sure?”
“Mhm,” Y/N nodded her head and pecked his lips reassuringly. “Please.”
His dishevelled and sweaty hair shook as he nodded and slowly drew back his hips so that just the tip of his cock remained in her before gliding back inside. The sight alone was more than enough to make both of them explode, but they wanted to last longer than thirty seconds, especially for their first time together. There’d be quickies for later, now they wanted to have a proper shag.
Bit by bit, Harry’s pace quickened, pearls of sweat gliding down his skin and dampening the sheets below them, much like it was with Y/N. Her leg slid up to rest around his hips, giving him a better angle and more leverage for him to strike the right spot, as he pushed her knee to rest against her chest, Y/N’s head falling back to the pillow.
Her insides were shaking from the pleasure, and it was like an invisible force was pushing down on her chest, as she struggled for a proper breath. “Harry,” she dragged out his name, the word turning into a high-pitched whine.
“I know,” he responded in the same breathless voice. He could feel her tighten around him and wasn’t sure just how much longer he’d be able to keep up the pace. “Touch yourself ‘f me, lovie. C’mon, use those fingers.”
Y/N did as she was told. It didn’t give her that butterfly feeling like it’d happened when they’d been Harry’s, but it did make her cum faster, and the sensation of her gushing around his cock made him lose all self-control and he spilled inside.
It wasn’t enough for Y/N, but she guessed she needed to settle for it. She knew that nothing really ever touched in the universe, that the closest atoms ever come to touching one another is when their wave packets overlap, much like she and Harry were now overlapping, his body lying on top of hers, skin sweaty and frame trembling as he came down from his own high.
“I uh,” Y/N cleared her throat, finger tracing the outline of one of the butterfly in the middle of Harry’s chest. “When the people came to get my stuff, I umm, asked them to take your rainbow cardigan. Wanted something that smelled like you, so I didn’t feel so alone. Was the first thing I put on when I got out of my hospital gown.”
She felt his body rumble with laughter and a kiss being pressed to her forehead. “I know. Saw Anna stash it inside the suitcase. I uh, I was the one who also put in one of my sweaters. Know how cold you always get.”
She hid her smile against his collarbones. “Thank you. For thinking of me.”
“ 'M always thinking of you… Will you knit me one though?”
Y/N raised her eyebrow. “Knit you one?”
“Yes. I know you knit –“
“Everyone knits nowadays.”
Harry drew himself back a bit, and she pushed away the matted down strands from his forehead, wiping away the sweat from underneath his green eyes as well. “Yes, but the point is – there’ll be a million other Gucci shirts and sweaters and cardigans. But I’d like to have one-of-a-kind made by you. So, I have something to sleep next to when you’re not next to me.”
Y/N ran a finger along his jawline, biting away her grin. “It’ll probably have mistakes. I’m not that good at it. ‘M not a professional.”
“Exactly.” Harry tilted her head up with a finger and their eyes met. “Which is why it’ll be perfect.”
“The arms will most likely be different lengths in the end.”
“Don’t worry, darling.” He pecked her lips before hugging her and not letting go. “It’s flawless for me.”
Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):
Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15 @breezykpop @girlboss99 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist @alliyjane @sirtommyholland
Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished
A/N: My tags are always open :)
P.S. please don’t repost my work without specific written permission onto other platforms :)
#Harry Styles#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles fanfic#harry styles imagine#harry styles imagines#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles x fem!reader#harry styles x reader smut#harry styles angst#harry styles and you#harry styles and y/n#harry styles and reader#harry styles fluff#harry styles smut#1d fan fiction#1d#one direction#one direction imagine#eroda#harry styles eroda#Golden#fine line#florence pugh#don't worry darling
2K notes
·
View notes
Text
though you weren’t mine [kmg]
—summary: new in town, with judgement following after every step she takes in life, the least she expects is to find a box filled with cd’s that reads ‘throw away’ written in messy handwriting on its cardboard surface. when looking at the videos, she realizes there is a highlight to her day—as if he was part of a sitcom, and his name is kim mingyu.
the downside? she doesn’t know where to find him. once existing in the same house as hers, no one knows where he went, but his smile remains petrified inside her head.
—title: though you weren’t mine
—pairing: kim mingyu x reader
—genre: photographer!au ; musical actress!au ; strangers to friends to lovers!au ; videocamera!au
—type: fluff ; angst ; suggestive ; romance ; drama ; humor ; slowburn
—word count: 25,891
—warnings: mentions of alcohol, death (though briefly), and past relationships.
Three onions. One head of garlic. Lettuce, clinging to the space in between his teeth and still, her seat companion in the train doesn’t close his mouth for the slightest bit.
As far as she knows—and it has been two hours of conversing with this man, so she’s knowledgeable enough to speak—, he worked in refineries. A little bit over seventy, with a white chemise cladding his body, tucked inside a pair of beige pants. The rounded glasses on the bridge of his nose keep falling, but he keeps playing with them as he speaks about the most miniscule of matters. For one, in 1997, his wife left him for his best friend, and secondly, his youngest is starting to look more like his (please, say ex) best friend with the passage of time.
Now, she is not a DNA expert, neither is she a fortune teller to be able to foresee the future when she got in this train, against her will, only to fulfill her biggest dream.
The city awaits her entrance, and when she gets there, she hopes to take a big bite of the world, mix dance and singing, along with acting, in order to further emphasize her spot in the industry. Break the malicious curse that follows everyone in her blood, only destroying their careers under the weight of their actions.
“And, you know what she did?” Licking the mayonnaise off his thumb after taking a big bite of his sandwich, the older male continues with his story as she lulls her head against the window. For one second, her eyes divert towards the pink clouds accompanied by lilac skies. Trees swing with the harsh wind, three days-worth of spending her time with Jinho over here sounding like the worst of experiences. “My daughter told me she doesn’t want to college after all. Can you imagine that? I paid for her education in four different majors, and she dropped out of all of them…because she wants to be, and hear me out,” As if she hasn’t been doing that for the entirety of the train ride. “A YouTuber.”
“Oh no.” Acting is her forte. Fake crying without a single droplet of water thrown at her face. Elongating words. Dramatics. All of the like—it’s what theater means, but at this point, her tiredness trails after her sentence. “Yeah, all that money…gone to waste…sir, that’s terrible.”
Just as terrible as the way he is eating this sandwich.
Smacking his lips once again, the man shakes his head. “What was your name again?” He asks, for the umpteenth time, and she lets her lips wrap around her name. She may change at this point, something easier, just so this man stops talking about himself and starts to be a proper companion instead. “Yeah, always be sure of what you’re going to do. There are millions of people you can disappoint, and they will tell you they will support you through everything and anything, but it’s a lie.”
“Ah-ha.” She drags, trying her hardest not to scrunch up her face. Instead, she rummages through the pocket of her black coat, looking for the perfect distraction that is her phone. “I think someone is calling me, Mr. Jinho, if you’ll excuse me.”
“Yes, yes!” The old man speaks quickly, taking the last bite of his sandwich only to speak with his mouth full after. “I hope it’s good news!”
After moving his legs from the side, she makes a bee-line towards the bathroom. Brown leather seats on each side of her, with people talking normally, softly, and yet, seemingly happier than her with her train ride. Her friends insisted on this—something of the like of ‘humbleness’ in their whole speech when giving her the train tickets that would take her to her newest pursue in life. Away from her well-known family, and the judgement that weights her down even when she opens the door to the bathroom and closes it behind her.
An unpleasant whiff of air has her sighing deeply. Great. The white tiled walls and sunflowers decorations do nothing to make her feel less like an outcast in this train. Though, she needs to sit down and look through her phone for a while, perhaps pee before getting out of there, and hoping that Jinho’s sandwich did its job in getting him to sleep. Her feet steps forward, putting down the toilet seat in hopes of not even seeing anything inside to compare to the smell in here, before taking a seat on top of the toilet.
Fuck my life, she thinks.
One day you’re at the top of the world, the next, you’re seated on top of a toilet with suspicious contents. Life, some call it.
As if the afternoon couldn’t get any worse, she unlocks her phone, a series of messages from her best friend appearing on the screen. God, she misses her. Leaving her best friend behind while having a medical emergency is one of the choices, she thinks she will never forgive herself for making. What kind of friend does that? She has no idea. Yet, Miyoung practically shouted at her to go follow that dream. The musical’s rehearsals started this month, and she couldn’t miss the opportunity of finally reaching proper stardom. Not word from mouth, but with actions instead.
Earlier, she had asked:
To: Miyoung.
How’s your foot doing?
Though, probably napping, it took Miyoung four hours to answer.
From: Miyoung.
Still connected to my leg, so far, so good.
But…haven’t you seen the news?
News? No. Well, if she’s not counting Jinho’s romantic history—and family timeline, at that—since 1991.
If the child isn’t really his…why would he be telling some stranger in the train?
To: Miyoung.
I was supposed to know any news?
From: Miyoung.
OMG.
Enter my account. Check your ex’s Instagram.
And tell me where we’re hiding the body.
Miyoung, God bless her, is the purest figure skater she knows. The woman follows everyone in social media without caring if they stepped on her heart with all her might, or did something to her friends. Her ex-boyfriend, a very famous comedian, is not the exception. While she had hit headlines for unfollowing him on social media—and vice-versa—, Miyoung does wonders on keeping her updated. Two weeks it has been since their break up, and she has never been readier to move on.
Though, upon opening his social media, she’s welcomed by the usual—parted black hair, curved eyebrows, downturned and bored eyes, with slim lips and a tall frame that bends against its will forward, his stance normally accompanied by baggy, stylish clothes that more often than not rake the smell of alcohol and weed. On this occasion, however, someone else clings by his side and the man does not have the utmost decency to make the picture a little bit less like it belongs to some raunchy college student’s Instagram profile.
His big hand, that linked with hers, and touched her skin in promises of forever, splays on top of the woman’s butt. Gorgeous in more ways than one, with long curled hair and a smile on her lips as he kisses her cheek. The worst part? That she dated someone who captioned this picture, with God-knows-what-kind-of-model, in the worst of ways.
Her stomach churns when she reads: “Here with the main bitch.”
Ugh. Delete all the kisses. Erase all the memories of ever sleeping with him. Create a time-machine so she can slap herself across the face and tell herself ‘he’s not even that funny, wake the hell up’.
To: Miyoung.
Ew.
From: Miyoung.
You don’t care?
To: Miyoung.
Of course, I care.
I kissed that.
I made out with that.
I let that fuck me.
From: Miyoung.
Sid-looking ass.
Fuck him.
All those times Miyoung told her not to date him, and there she was, making a fool of herself.
To: Miyoung.
We don’t judge people by their appearance here.
But he’s trash.
From: Miyoung.
Two weeks, girl.
It took him two effing weeks to get over you.
It shouldn’t hurt, right? Though, her heart contracts a little at the touch of disappointment. Never had she trusted someone as much as she did with her ex, and there she is. Forgotten. Mocked. Poked fun at.
The second bitch.
The ‘no-one-cares’ bitch.
Fuck.
To: Miyoung.
I’ll get over him too, just watch.
From: Miyoung.
Oh, babe, I know.
And you’re on your way to it.
With certainty, even in this goddamned train, with a smelly bathroom and a talkative seat companion, she can do it. Reach her dream. Get a name. Never need a man ever again.
Everything is going to be fine. It always is for her, and this won’t be the exception.
###
Everything is not fine.
Brick walls clad the building in front of her. Tall enough for it to even be considered a skyscraper, creating shadows across her body. The world is much bigger than hers, and yet, sometimes she thinks she is the center of it all. A white screen with black lines showcases the name of one of the newest musicals to be performed tonight at nine, but she can only imagine how her debut in the musical world will look like on her first night. Twinkling lights from the night falling in love with the title of her play—When The Kids Fall Asleep.
When she read the script, she was actually aiming to find some small spot in a TV series, waving in the back or saying three lines. Instead, she came across this piece of magic because of her manager, whom was once her mother’s manager. The story read almost like a book, the demos filling her ears when she asked for a demonstration for her audition, the story of four families that conjoined when trying to reach their dreams without telling the children about the hardships of the real world. For them, everything must be perfect.
Her character, she had fallen in love with. Poor yet leader-like through everything, trying to raise a three-year-old without making her miss a single meal. When she falls asleep, she has to live off earning money by selling meals and, continuously, finding it harder to feed her little family and working as a stripper.
Doing justice to such a role may erase the mistakes lingering in her past.
With a push of the door, the cold metal handle meeting her fingertips, a new world is introduced to her. Rows and rows of burgundy seats, all staring towards the not-so-empty stage. People scatter around, some extending their limbs, others taking sips of water, but the swish of the door closing behind her catches some people’s attention.
The director is someone she knows. The strands of her bleached blonde hair are pushed behind her ears, tightened by a hair-tie to keep it in place. A tall nose, plush lips, and a set of thick glasses meet her enigmatic, yet serious face. A black turtleneck covers most of her body, long limbs and stylized slender body making her look more like a model than a director. Practically glued to her chest is the printed version of the script, and the closer she gets, the more the golden lights scatter across Kaleigh’s body.
“Look at that, if that isn’t our fashionably late rock-star.” The chuckle that rips through Kaleigh’s lips fakes every single emotion that could be mustered in this situation. A sharp breath in makes her curse herself internally. Well, she’s definitely not used to having to take the subway…and definitely not use to people not waking her up. Her manager is there for that, but now he’s too far away from her to actually work as a babysitter, as well.
“Sorry,” She breathes out, hands threading with the straps of her hoodie before smiling softly. “I…I didn’t know how to catch the subway.”
“Are you kidding me?” Kaleigh asks, mocking tone in her voice ever-present, clapping her hands together as if watching the most ridiculous of comedies. “Your family isn’t famous enough for you to act as if you’re out and about in limousines.”
Truthfully, yes. A family of rock-stars, like her mother, that happened to leave the band in search of a better chance, only for her first solo album to fail in the charts. Of models that never went past the runways. Of singers that remained as one-hit-wonders and producers that never got to have names remembered in the world of music. It’s always a peak and then a downfall for her family’s curse.
…But, she does have enough money not to worry for the rest of her life, so there is something good about being criticized throughout her entire life for the family she grew up in. “Well…no, but I’m used to people driving me around. It won’t happen again, I promise.”
Upon sparing one glance towards the stage, Kaleigh must understand that she wants this conversation to be over. “Whatever,” She instructs, deep voice lingering with tiredness. “This is your team. You can get to know them as you practice. This is the first time the entire cast is together.”
Her eyes scan towards the groups of people, all of which she had studied from the printed version of the script she read when Jinho had finally fallen asleep on the train. Thank God, she almost thought that man was going to get off the train with her and follow her around. One of the male leads, she recognizes as Jaehyo, tall and over his thirties, short brown hair accompanying widened eyes, almost deep-looking. A vibrato to die for, as she saw per his audition.
“You’re Jaehyo, right?”
The man looks up from his script, a crooked smile appearing on his features that perhaps, gives him the attractiveness of that one friend’s young dad that she would look at when she was a child, unaware of why her cheeks would heat up at the mere sight of him. “You know me?”
“Why wouldn’t I?” Going up the set of stairs, she looks around the room once again. Small woman, black short hair, a rounded face with speckles of brown across her cheeks, matching her orange blush. The best dancer of the team, definitely. “And that’s Sue. She plays Joah’s character.” Of course, how could she not? Joah is one of the background characters, but thrilling in its own way. The owner of the strip-club, and the one that takes care of the children in the house of the four families, trying to paint a perfect picture of broken shreds. “And you are—”
Upon pointing at the woman seated by the edge of stage, the light wood carving against her uncovered, toned thighs, she hears Hyun’s sharp tone. The main star, the oldest child—twenty-one, that figures out that her mother is a stripper and goes on a rampant of wanting to take over the same steps. She’s a triple threat, that’s for sure—singing like a goddess, dancing like she belongs to the stage, and acting like she lived through the same experience.
“Are you over with your little Wikipedia search revising speech?” Hyun says, moving her long brown hair away from her shoulders to look at her with sharp almond eyes, her plush lips pursed, though still beautiful with the blaring anger inside her casting over her features. “You’re late. We don’t have time for you to play the fangirl character.”
Hyun stands up at the same moment that she shares her anger with everyone else in the stage. Jaehyo, on one hand, is the one to speak up first. “Hey, we weren’t even waiting for that long—”
“So, just because she has money, we have to excuse her diva behavior?” Running her hands over her gray shorts, Hyun gets in position, staring at Kaleigh.
“Look who’s talking.” She spits out, looking up and down at the woman that she had once thought was the best addition to the team, now seems to be up and against her, ready to blare Achilles’ cholera all the way towards her. “The only one making a fuss over me being twenty minutes late here is you—”
“Because my time is valuable, unlike what you think.” Hyun responds just as she gets close, sparing one glance towards Kaleigh. “Right? I’m the main lead. If I can get here early, so can you.”
“Shit, sorry.” She whispers, a frown appearing on her features. “I’ll make sure to get here two hours earlier because your character is so much more important than mine.”
“Well,” Kaleigh interrupts at that moment, hooking her fingers around one of her dangling diamond earrings. “It’s not wrong. Hyun is our star. If she gets here on time, so can you.”
Lowering her head just at the same time that a smile appears on Hyun’s face, she sighs. “It won’t happen again, I promise. I’m sorry.”
Her dream scatters right in front of her, both from her wrongdoings and for the way that Kaleigh looks at her up and down, before nodding. “Doesn’t matter. We can work on various things as you’re here. You have a lot to improve.” Kaleigh answers, a smile reaching her cheekbones. “For now, just stand in the back and watch the professionals do so.” Her hand extends towards Hyun, exclaiming her utmost ambition and hope for her presence in this play.
“For every scene?”
“Yes. You can dance in the back.” Kaleigh finalizes with a tilt of her head. “Ah…does that bother you?”
“Well, if I’m in the back for every scene, I won’t be able to deliver my lines properly—”
“Honey, here’s how this works—” Kaleigh starts, extending one leg in front of her before playing with the edge of her script. Never does she break eye-contact, even when she is stepping on her heart. “You are new, but you aren’t new to the public. You’ve dated a few good names, appeared on magazines since you were a child…and you’re kind of good, but we’re aiming for publicity here. If you’re here with us, we make this play more profitable and, hence, we can continue displaying it for however long they let us. And, with the passage of time, you can step forward and be looked at more…but you’re not as good as the rest, as easy as that.”
Then, why did she get accepted? Once again, the light of her family’s curse casts down on her, creates shadows on the kind of person she can be. Just when her lips are about to part, trying to shelter her pride with the utmost knowledge of how this industry works, Kaleigh claps her hands together.
“In your spots. First scene. The kids are waiting behind the stage, I need you to deliver those lines as if you’re in the verge of hunger. And you better be, we’ll be here the entire day.”
It’s not like how she imagined it to be. So far in the stage that she can’t even see the seats, the light casting down on Hyun even when she is not in the scene. Her voice dulls, every line coming out of her lips with less enthusiasm as the practice passes by. Just a publicity stunt, that’s why she was accepted. Tears weld up in her vision, and they are not exactly her character’s…but now she is here, and she has to make do with her dream.
###
There’s one point of a person’s lives where they can no longer see their friends as much as they hope to. Life gets busy, some create families, others hunt for their biggest professional goals, and then, she’s left in solitude, carrying the boxes that were left outside of her new house by the moving truck. Spacious, perfect for two to three people, and yet only there for her to live in. Somewhere in a suburbs-like spot, with plenty of families staring at her as a groan leaves her lips upon the lumbar ache on her back. Whatever. If normal people can do it, so can she.
The trees on her front yard move with the wind, same as her hair, trying her best to go up the set of white stairs that lead to her gray doorstep, the ‘welcome’ rug in front making her feel less like this is her home. Her friends and family are not here, and the friends that she has here are too busy with their own lives to help her unpack as much as possible. Along with that, she has to go over her lines and avoid delivery in order to use the kitchen as much as possible.
When she drops the last box on the living room, the gray tiles and the white doors giving an elegant vibe in contrast to the cardboard, her hands rest on her waist. The only thing she has managed to do after getting home from practice three days ago was construct some shelves for her TV, and put a bed in the bedroom to sleep in, but other than that, the house is empty. The couch welcomes her weight when she throws herself over it.
Okay. It could be worse. She has a ceiling over her head.
…And a mattress, a kitchen, a TV and a shelf.
But she has worn the same clothes at home for the past four days.
Lifting the white sweater up to her nose, she sniffles deeply. Clean, apparently, but that’s something she has to deal with as well—laundry as soon as possible, because of her amount of outfit changes during practice. Her eyes close tightly, as if she would be able to ease the headache appearing inside her head in the matter of seconds, but when she opens them again, she’s welcomed by the same white shelf she constructed, and the little wood shelf by its side that came with the house.
Though, it’s more like a cabinet, there’s a door to it, and it’s not locked, swinging back and forth with a squeak. Maybe, she should get rid of that before actually starting. Standing up again, each muscle hurting from endless hours of practicing and now for carrying around seven boxes inside her house, her slippers clank against the flooring until she kneels in front of the cabinet, opening the door and sighing out of glee of not having to hear the movement of the wind against it.
A box is inside, the words ‘throw away’ written in capitals and blue marker ink. Better follow what the owners wanted, it could be some haunted doll that she has to get out before it eats her alive at night. Though, just as she lifts the box in between her hands, ready to throw it away or recycle it, the bottom portion opens, letting a bunch of CD’s fall on her feet.
Ouch, but also, huh?
Is this the old owner’s porn stack?
She should just throw them away, but when her fingers wrap around the CD’s, she reads the titles written in the same blue ink. Anniversary. Date. Bed. New York.
Ooh, bed sounds kinky…
Is it an amateur sex tape?
Better check it before she throws it away and people look through it, right?
Thankfully, numbers are scattered across the CD’s, small enough for her to almost ignore them, but upon grabbing her laptop from the coffee table, she slides the CD in. All in order, she starts with number one.
Maybe, a sex tape would be better…it wouldn’t have captured her heart quite like this.
###
01: NEW YORK.
“Ah, Kim Mingyu, don’t leave me behind like that!”
Groups of people scatter in front of the recorder. Tall buildings, in colors from grays, blacks, whites to browns, read out the typicality of New York, as per the title. Bustling, with barely any space from one person to the other, like lovers marching on their way to success. The person with the camera lets it shake a few times with her steps, the tone sweet and melodious as she calls out the same name again. Kim Mingyu. Kim Mingyu. Babe.
Definitely her boyfriend.
Upon reaching a wide back with a navy-blue thick coat thrown over it, the person with the camera expands her free hand on his back, sharp breaths leaving her lips, trying to regain her composure. She moves over to the side, finally showing the face of the culprit of her distress. A car passes by so fast that it swooshes his hair, the brown strands moving away to showcase his gorgeous golden skin. Not only is that gorgeous about him, but the fold of his romantic eyes, one squinted as he holds a camera up his face, taking a few pictures of the Times Square, accompanied by his defined nostrils, straight nose and dried, thin lips that he licks in the matter of seconds before looking over towards his girlfriend.
God has favorites.
“Log number one of the lives of Mingyu and Yoona. We are out here in New York to celebrate our second anniversary, isn’t that right, Mingyu?” Her voice is dulcet enough to compete against popsicles and candy. Mingyu seems to sense that, a twinkle in his eyes when looking down at the person recording him.
But he’s a camera person, she can tell that much. When he turns towards the camera, he extends his arms as wide as possible. “We’re here to celebrate two years of me standing Yoona and not dying in the process.”
Yoona slaps him in the arm for that comment, laughter ripping from his lips. “No, say why we’re really here.”
Mingyu looks around for a second, grabbing her hand before dragging her along through the busy streets. “I’ve always wanted to come to New York, so I thought that coming with you would be the best way to experience it.”
“And why are we recording us?”
“…Because I plan to audition for Hollywood so we can be like Brad and Angelina.”
“…They divorced, Mingyu.”
“They didn’t.” Mingyu replies, though he is clearly in the wrong. “Why would they—?”
“Because people get divorced, Mingyu.” Yoona reasons, far more knowledgeable than her boyfriend. “But be honest, why are we recording ourselves?”
At last, he looks away, the timer of the video growing smaller and smaller as he stares ahead. Slowly, a smile takes over his features, filling his cheeks when he says: “This is log one of the videos we’re going to show our children once we become a family in the far future.”
“Or not so far.”
Staring into the camera, Mingyu shrugs. “You never know.”
And that’s how it ends. With that precious smile of his giving hope to those who don’t believe in love, for it’s clear that he’s in love with whoever is recording him.
###
02: BED.
The door of what is now her bedroom opens up in the video, the same recorder not knowing how to keep the camera upright as she moves toward the spacious bed. Her knees hit the bed, stealing a huff away from the man thrown on the bed as his hands come forward just as his body does, grabbing the culprit that interrupted his sleep by jumping on him.
“Morning, morning, birthday boy!” His face is much more swollen than in the last video, his dark hair tousled everywhere as his eyes squint, try to look at the camera before closing entirely, throwing himself back in the mattress with a sigh.
“I’ll go back to sleep.”
But, Yoona keeps pushing, resting her weight on top of Mingyu, showcasing the pictures of them splayed on their respective bedside tables, before patting her hand against his cheek. “Wake up, it’s April 6th.”
“I know that day it is…” His voice drags, pressing his cheek to the white, comfortable pillow that seems to include a dampened spot created by him.
“Okay, kids. You may watch this ten years from now or something, let’s hope your dad isn’t as grumpy in the mornings as he is right now.” Yoona instructs, jumping a bit on his abdomen only to watch him not relenting at all. “Your dad was born on April 6th, 1997—” Oh, same year that Jinho was left by his wife. What a coincidence. “Shall we sing happy birthday for him?”
The video ends with a smile appearing on Mingyu’s face the more the song goes on in that lulling voice, reaching upwards to steal a kiss from her only for the camera to cut short.
The guy’s charming, she’ll give him that.
###
07: DRUNK.
Mingyu’s flushed face seems a bit older, his hair pushed away from his face as he rests his forehead against the refrigerator. It’s not the same one in her kitchen right now, but the division is the same, so it’s technically still in this house. Only when Yoona comes close to him, stumbling a bit on her steps, does he look up, waving his hand at the camera, the sleeve of his white and red sweater coming down his hand.
“Min…gyu…” Yoona has trouble forming coherent sentences, though Mingyu’s smile is ever-present. Happiness bleeds through him when being with her. “Mingyu, dance for the camera. Make that money worth, baby.”
The man chuckles, lifting his hands in the air and swinging his hips from side to side comically, earning a few whistles, howls and cheers from some people, perhaps equally as drunken as him, only to end up getting close to the camera and saying, with his handsome features pressed up close to the device:
“I wanna throw up.”
This video definitely has a smile plastering on her face. Funny.
###
10: ANNIVERSARY.
“Kim Mingyu, welcome to our log. We haven’t talked here for a while.”
Mingyu looks away from the scenery outside of the car, perhaps a taxi given by the position, moving the hood of his black sweater away from his head and fixing the sunglasses on his face to rest just at the tip of his nose to look at the camera. “You’re recording again?” Mingyu asks, though he is already waving at the camera and by the lack of response, she must have nodded at him.
“It’s October 13th, that means we have been together for three years.” Yoona starts, just at the same time that Mingyu grabs her hand, brings it up to his lips and presses a petal of a kiss to her knuckles. God, she should really stop watching this if she doesn’t want to feel lonelier. Why does she always pick the bad ones? Yoona has good tastes! “What are your thoughts on love, Mr. Kim?”
Mingyu leans his head back, though he looks at her from the corner of his eyes. “Stop calling me Mr. Kim.”
“Okay, go on Kim Mingyu.”
“It’s alright to just call me Mingyu.”
“I’m the one with the camera, shut it.”
Though, the man in question tries to find the right words, a goofy smile appearing on his features before extending his hands, as if further help himself explain. “Love is comfort? It’s what you expect, really. Ah…everyone thinks, at least once in their lives, that they are going to find someone and then, you just do.”
“Mingyu,” Yoona threatens, somewhat of a hiss to her tone. “What a bad answer.”
“It’s an answer!” He replies, widening his eyes and lifting his tone comically.
“And how did you know it was me?”
Mingyu pauses for a second, his lips joining together to give a tight-lipped smile before shrugging. “I just knew.”
###
13: RING.
“It’s recording.” A joyful voice, though belonging to a man, speaks from behind the camera before Mingyu lowers his weight to stand in front of the camera, taking off his black hoodie to wave.
“Hi,” Mingyu instructs, though the busy exterior must be getting him nervous, looking around before smiling sweetly. For one second, he looks like the modern version of a Prince. “I’m here today to buy Yoona an engagement ring. Seungkwan is recording me…and…yeah, I���ll just show you the process of me finding the perfect ring.”
Though, the man recording is more given to being on camera, turning it around and moving to Mingyu’s side so they are both in camera. His bright red hair and innocent features match his overexcited nature. “Welcome everyone. I’m here because my ring size is the same as Yoona’s. Mingyu and Yoona—”
Mingyu chuckles, hiding his hands behind his back before shaking his head. “This is not a broadcast, dude.”
“What do you know, Mingyu?”
The rest of the video displays memories of Seungkwan speaking into the camera and recording Mingyu as he picks the perfect ring. Rose gold with five diamonds, one that says costs him more than he even has and made him ask for money from all his group of friends.
Love has a meaning then.
###
14: I SAID YES.
This video is much shorter, though she can already recognize Seungkwan’s lively voice as he records the lovely couple. Yoona, with her bangs falling across her forehead, thin lips and big eyes stares up at Mingyu when she hugs him, his knees dusted because of his kneeling position in front of her. The ring dazzles against the light of the salon they all find themselves in—perhaps, some event, with pink balloons and golden decorations.
Mingyu, as happy as ever, wraps his arms around her waist, lowering his lips until they connect with hers. Not missing a bit, a smile appears over his features, as per usual with Yoona, but the woman only displays her ring to the camera.
“It’s finally happening!”
###
31: DELETE.
Yoona spends two good minutes talking about the wedding, the decorations, the elegance of her designer dress that she paid too much for. Definitely not in their ordinary room, the city twinkles darkly on the opened, spacious windows of the hotel they are staying in, the beige desk and the champagne curtains matching. Her hair is shorter, her voice different, fixing her eyelashes and her bangs as much as possible whenever she speaks.
Mingyu lowers his weight beside her, resting his cheek on her shoulder just as she is speaking, but she cuts herself off to look over her shoulder. “Mingyu…” Her voice lowers, taking his face in between her slim hands to look at his features. Ready for bed, he seems to be, dark bags surrounding his eyes and the figure of a shadow around his lips making Yoona shake her head. “You haven’t shaved and the wedding is tomorrow. What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”
For someone’s whose language had been lively and lovely throughout the recordings, this surprises her. What happened to Yoona? Mingyu stares up at her, pushing his hair away from his face. “I’ll shave tomorrow,” His smile falls then, frowning up at her. “If I shave now, it’s not going to be perfect tomorrow.”
“You look disgusting with that rat on your face.”
“It isn’t even noticeable, come on.”
“Of course, it is!” Yoona complains, huffing when she leans back on her seat, bringing her knees up her chest as she has a stare-off with Mingyu. Before he could say anything, she interrupts him. “I don’t even know how I’m going to kiss you tomorrow with that thing—”
Mingyu stands up then, pointing at the camera as he snaps, getting away from the main screen. “It’s not like you do anything remotely nice anymore unless you’re recording us.”
Yoona looks over her shoulder, talking to Mingyu. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“The only moment you’re truly happy with me is when you’re talking to these nonexistent children of ours—”
“You said you wanted children, Mingyu.”
“…I do, but it’s—it’s not—to have children, you have to do more than just record the good parts of your relationship to show them just how perfect their parents were.”
Yoona scoffs, rolling her eyes while looking at the camera. “Well, I thought I had a perfect boyfriend, you see, but the more comfortable you get, the stupider you become.”
Mingyu stops on his tracks, moving over to the camera before placing one hand over it. Though, by the ministrations and the movement, Yoona seems to flick it off. “Turn that shit off.” He threatens, voice levelled, only to have her shaking her head. “Yoona, I said to turn that shit off. I’ve recorded every time you wanted, but it’s enough. We already—”
“Did I ask for your opinion, Mingyu?”
“I—”
“I didn’t ask, so keep it to yourself, okay?” The man actually listens, biting down on his bottom lip before rushing his hands through his hair a few times, grasping at his scalp one last time before moving over to the mattress. Yoona checks if he is around one more time before leaning her weight forward, resting her elbow on her desk. “Like I said, my dress is by Belle Epoque—”
Though, she can’t bring herself to watch any more of the last log, meant to be deleted.
###
In the middle of the night, lacking sleep yet raging insomnia like it is her job to blare thoughts inside her head as per musical notes, she figured out something. Nonsense is timeless, and staying in the far back of the stage, along with her companions, only to make Hyun shine the harshest is not what she imagined when moving out here. It’s not what she desired, and it’s not going to happen.
The instrumental of Jaehyo’s first solo runs through the empty stage, three hours earlier than Hyun could ever get to the practice room. The man gives a few steps forward, extending his arms on each side of his body as if to ask for instructions.
When calling her name, he adds: “I don’t know why we’re here.”
Though she pauses the instrumental, there is certainty in her voice, pushing her messy hair back, trying to unglue her eyelids that remain touched to the other because of her lack of sleep. One sip of caffeine should be enough for now. “It’s not fair that we’re getting pushed to the back when we have solos. Hyun shouldn’t be the main dancer of your solo.” She instructs, staring at Jaehyo’s surprised expression. “So, we’re preparing something else to show to Kaleigh.”
Jaehyo chuckles at her words, rubbing his hands against his face. “I don’t think she’s going to accept it.” He tells, letting go of his cheeks to add. “Hyun is, also, too much of a strict main for me to go against her just like that—”
“You’re thirty-five Jaehyo, grow up.” Her words come out harshly, days of standing Hyun’s verbal stabs catching up on her. Take for example Kim Mingyu, the God made Prince in the videos she watched. Gorgeous, elegant, somehow sweet, and yet, following through with a marriage that probably made him unhappy in the long run. She doesn’t have the time to lose the opportunity of shining. “…You’re excellent with choreography, and I can help with some of the vocals—”
“I think she’s right.” Sue says after slipping out from the back of the stage, the red curtains dragging over her body, much more energized than anyone in this room. “Hyun is the most talented of our team, but we are not Hyun and her little group of backup dancers. We are also characters.”
Nodding, she agrees. “Exactly.”
Jaehyo looks back towards Sue, then up again at one of the youngest of the team before rolling his finger in the air. “Okay, start the instrumental again. I think I can make up some new moves.”
Jaehyo’s body moves with precision, professionalism at its finest as he makes every step count into the road of heartbreak that his character finds himself to be in, driven by addiction, stopped by his reality. One arm forward, fingers curling with each word he says, notes hit at the same time that his lines are delivered. The talent in the room palpitates with what Kaleigh can’t see, a trio of people who would love to work with Hyun but end up down-casted by the light of her endless talents.
Hours pass by, and she is reminded why she started liking musicals on the first place. Seated on her grandmother’s lap, on the first row of Broadway musicals, staring at the dancers and the actors, the way a story could come to life with the three best versions of art. A nod of her head, a hum of her voice, a vibrato or two, a falsetto when she’s feeling brave…it all comes together with a version of When The Kids Go To Sleep that the world deserves to see.
Though, the middle of the morning hits with the entrance of another person. The doors open, closing harshly behind the culprit, interrupting the line that she is breathing into the air continued by elongated, quickened steps. When she stares ahead, past the rows of empty seats, she sees Hyun’s small face, her typical sport-like outfit cladding her immaculate body.
“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, newbie?” Hyun asks, not even conscious of her steps as she goes up the set of stairs and stands in front of her. The music comes to a halt thanks to Jaehyo, whom rushes down the stage with a jump and pauses the Bluetooth speakers, but she isn’t back down. Not with this bitch.
“Practicing, babe. What do you think I’m doing?”
“Ruining the musical, for example.” Her reply has her balling her fists. Not that she has ever been part of a physical fight—oh, but she has been close, and she thinks that if she can land a fake punch for a scene, a real one shouldn’t be that difficult. “…This part of the stage…” Hyun steps forward, tapping her shoes against the spot she was in, jutting her chest outwards to bring her back. “This is mine, and you have to earn this spot—”
“Stop it with the dramatics, God. We’re not in High School Musical, stop acting like a child.” She groans out, throwing her head back at Hyun’s antics.
“You say that because you’re just used to things going your way. So, the pretty little princess can’t get used to being shadowed for once.”
Sue takes this moment to step forward, placing her hands on both of their chests. “Hey, let’s stop this—”
“Fucking whatever celebrity passes by you didn’t work for you, and that’s your fault. Now, this is my dream, and you don’t get to ruin it because you feel like the attention is not on you for once.” Hyun continues speaking, lifting her voice with each moment that passes. Pushing Sue to the side, she gets closer to her, breaths mingling with the nonsense she is speaking into the air. What does she know about her past what the media says? Judgmental bitch.
“You don’t know me. Stop talking as if you do, bitch.”
“Oh, baby, a bitch?” Hyun asks, placing one hand on top of her chest before chuckling. “Ouch. What level of bitch? The usual, level one bitch or level ten, horny bitch like yourself?”
“Regret that.” She pushes, wrapping her fingers around Hyun’s shirt to bring her closer, only to watch the woman chuckle.
“What? You’re going to kiss me like you do with every little celebrity friend of yours?”
Fire bursts within her vision, not counting her breaths when her free hand comes forward and slaps the woman across from her straight on the cheek. Two steps back make her realize exactly what she did, Hyun’s smile faltering with the gasp that leaves her lips. Her chest heaves up and down, hand tingling and burning under the weight of her ministrations…but fuck, it felt good to shut her up for once.
The media has portrayed every mistake, blown it out of proportion, and made a mess out of her life. She was never judged as a normal person, but as the daughter of celebrities instead. It’s not fair for whatever the media portrayed to continue to follow her even when she’s trying to earn a name for yourself.
Sue exclaims at that moment. “Stop it, you two!” Resting one hand on Hyun’s shoulder, she helps her up only to have Hyun walking forward, ready to retreat the precious gift of pain. “Hey, no! Stop it!” Sue tugs Hyun by her small waist, trying to keep her in place.
“Who’s the bitch now?”
“I’m going to fucking kill you—”
“Stop it!” Jaehyo screams from his spot, coming towards the stage again. For someone who avoids arguments, he seems to be angered. “Let’s just…let’s just wait for Kaleigh to get here, practice, and forget this ever happened, okay? We’re a team, we’re not here to harass each other.”
Though, not a single word comes out of her lips, but a glare from Sue tells her that she needs to speak up. “Okay, I won’t do it again.”
Yet, when she turns around, tears weld up in her vision. A broken dream, her pride shattered, and a past that will follow her whether it is true or not…that’s what her life will always consist of, no matter where she runs up to.
###
First month in the new city, and the only thing that keeps her sane is the box filled with CD’s that she keeps inside her shelf, watching Mingyu’s face and smile whenever she needs to remind herself that there are good people in this world.
Sure, flowers don’t bloom in everyone, and what is shown on the recordings could be a bettered version of Mingyu. She knows what it is like to be portrayed as someone else in front of the cameras, after all. Yet, the rosiness of his tanned cheeks and the smile on his features speaks about something inexplicably thrilling. It makes her care about what happened after. Why would they leave all those CD’s behind, and had their marriage work?
Out of her thirteen neighbors, twelve don’t know a thing about him.
It’s a cycle, with the harsh sun confusing the endless wind falling on her back. One door opens, they welcome her into the neighborhood, ask her how she’s doing and they answer her questions.
Do you know who Kim Mingyu is? Yes, of course, he lived where you live right now.
Do you know what he does? No idea.
Do you know what happened to him, per chance? He left one day without saying a thing.
At this point, she may believe that Kim Mingyu was a ghost, and that was the reason why no one ever saw him leaving, or knew why he left. Confusion takes over her—for once, she doesn’t know why she is looking for the man that has brought her comfort for the past month, because nothing would come out of it. It’s not like she’s a fan of him, and will eventually end up meeting him and say: ‘Hey, watching your videos before your relationship fell apart made me feel better because you have such a welcoming, goofy personality’. Yet, there she is, standing in front of the final house of the block, ringing the doorbell on the pristine white walls.
A cat purrs once the doors open, escaping the confines of the home to twirl around her legs. The old woman in front of her, however, does not seem to mind her pet being so sweet, tugging at the edge of her long flowery dress, hunched over as she barely walks, a gray braid falling on her shoulder. A dulcet face, though much older than ninety, accompanies the lonesome woman who smiles at her presence.
“Oh, you’re the pretty girl that just moved in here, right?”
Well, that’s something new. She hasn’t heard much compliments ever since she got here—burn after hit, hit after burn, all coming from her endless hours of preparing for the first night of her musical, and the ones to come. “Depends on who you ask.” She jokes around, extending her hand to greet the woman in front of her. She outs her name into the comfortable atmosphere around them. “Yes, I’m the new neighbor. Nice to meet you…you have such a pretty home.”
“The smallest of the block, but the sturdiest.” The old woman gets out, able to capture anyone with her words. She leans her weight against the doorframe, a tired sigh leaving her lips. “Hye-Eun, that’s my name…and that’s my cat Rose.”
Kneeling down to scratch Rose right on her neck, she hums. “She’s so pretty.” The orange-furred cat seems to understand her, pressing her cheek against her knee before she looks away from her. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Hye-Eun, but I have some questions about the previous owners of my house that no one has been able to answer me—”
“You’re not interrupting a thing. I was just watching TV.” Hye-Eun admits.
“I’m glad.” It’s all she seems to be doing these days, too. Not going out. Definitely not spending her time inspecting the city. Instead, she’s either practicing or tiredly lounging around the house. “…Do you happen to know what happened to Kim Mingyu, the owner of the house?”
Hye-Eun stops for a moment, bringing her hands up her nose to rub at it before smiling. “He was a cute one, wasn’t he?”
Heat takes over her features, for she does not shy away from any man…but the stranger has something in him that puts her heart inside a carrousel and gives it a million twirls. “Indeed.”
“He left the day after his wedding. I’d say…about a year ago.” Hye-Eun, for seemingly being so old, captures the date well. One squint of her eye keeps her going, trying to recall the details. “He didn’t leave with Yoona, though. I remember because he brought me some food before he left. Such a caring boy…”
Her judgement may not be the slightest bit wrong about him. A smile appears on her features when she takes Rose in between her hands, looking at the cat’s face for a second before continuing to rub over her fur. Very calm for a cat, actually. “What was he like?”
“Enchanting, really. He used to greet everyone, play around with the kids when he could…he is a photographer, so he took lots of pictures in our neighborhood.” Mingyu sounds much like the man in the recordings so far. Had Yoona been the only one pretending, or was that just a little fight in their relationship? “A little bit dumb, but the sweetest of men are like that. Though, forgetful, too, he never came around after leaving.”
She doesn’t know him and yet, at times, when she doesn’t see his videos for days, she starts to miss his smile. People around the neighborhood, or the ones that truly intertwined with him, must long for his presence. “Seems like his wife was a lucky one.”
“She was.” Though, Hye-Eun says something else about the woman… “Pretty, but too controlling. Mingyu was just too stupid to notice.”
Those words have the smile on her face faltering. “…Really?”
The relationship that she had judged as normal on the first place, now seems to fall on the weight of Yoona’s wrongdoings. “Yes.” Hye-Eun finalizes, nodding her head before smacking her lips together. “But I know nothing else. Sorry, honey.”
“No worries, Mrs. Hye-Eun.” She finalizes, giving Rose back to her owner before resting her hands inside the pocket of her jeans. A photographer, brand-new feelings blossoming with his marriage, Mingyu sounds like one hell of a picturesque man. “Thank you for your help. I’ll get going now.” With a bow, she turns around, ready to take off to her house, when Hye-Eun speaks from her spot.
“He’s a pretty one, isn’t he?”
She stops on her tracks, looking over her shoulders. “Pardon me?”
Hye-Eun rests a kiss on top of Rose’s old cheeks before she chuckles. “A woman doesn’t go around asking about a man through a neighborhood just because.” Though, she has some reason there, if Mingyu is a married man, why should she care? “…Watch out for that heart, honey.”
“Oh no, Mrs. Hye-Eun, I’m afraid you have misunderstood—”
“I haven’t.” The sweet woman says, a smile appearing on her rounded features. “…Just, be careful, okay? Mingyu is the kind of man anyone easily falls for.”
Crossing her fingers across her heart, she replies: “I promise those are not my intentions, ma’am.”
With a chuckle, Hye-Eun takes a hold of her door, ready to close it when she finalizes this conversation. “It’s not what you intend to do, but what you’re actually doing.” The door closes, and she watches Hye-Eun retreat with her cat.
Why is she looking for Mingyu on the first place? Perhaps, a part of her wants to meet him—see that smile from up close and ask what happened to his relationship.
But that’s not her issue, not her position to be in, and that’s the reality of life.
###
“How many times do I have to tell you not to add new steps to the choreography?”
The baby wipe rubbing against her skin stops her motions along with her hand, looking at Kaleigh’s reflection on the mirror, right next to hers. The white lights cast down on the entirety of the face, one half sporting the bruises and dirt on her character’s face, the other completely void of makeup. Kaleigh, however, looks as put-together as always, moving her glasses, holding her script to her chest and pursing her reddened lips when she raises her eyebrows.
“I thought it’d look better, sorry.” Though, Jaehyo and Sue do it at times as well, choreographies and lines that they have worked on behind Kaleigh. They never get repercussions, aiming to be the very best brand of musical actors, but in her case…it’s always a bad move. With the passage of time, her confidence in her talents has deflated. “It won’t happen again.”
“You say that all the time.” Kaleigh answers, looking down at her script with a sigh before flicking a few pages. “And you, still, can’t go to the front. Hyun has worked on her dancing and her physique more than you have, so…stay back.” Though words hurt her more and more each time, digging against her heart like a sword twisting and twisting, opening the wound with more force than the last time. Yet, she only nods, knowing better than going back home and proving everyone right about the curse that follows her family.
“I will.”
“…I don’t want to tell you this, but another mistake, and I’ll kick you out.” Kaleigh, always strict, finalizes with those words, not knowing how to be softer. Little did she know that she left her figure skater with a broken foot at home, only pushed into the train because everyone insisted on her following her dream. Miyoung is much better now, but she can’t follow after her dream anymore. She keeps going, but at what cost? Showing the people that love her that, for once, she is not just some celebrity’s family member?
More often than not, she wants to package her bags and go back home. Wrap her arms around Miyoung and cry for both of their dreams. Buried deep, aching, bleeding. Instead, she watches Kaleigh retreat towards Hyun, sharing a smile with the woman and words of endless praise that should be for her.
Not to be misunderstood. Hyun is as talented as a person can get, but her outward hate towards her and the rivalry she started out of nowhere affects her. What was once admiration towards Hyun now translates into anger, pulsing envy that has her looking to the side as Hyun downs her fifth energy drink of the night. Her pupils dilate, eyelids blinking rapidly, chest heaving for a second as her fingers twirl one against the other. She stares at herself in the mirror, far away from taking off her makeup, before releasing her lines once again under her breath.
She’ll give Hyun that she’s a hard worker, but more than five energy drinks in just one afternoon practice?
The recital is getting closer, pamphlets thrown around, social media presence starting—and the interviews will inherently come soon. Yet, Hyun seems to be under a lot of pressure, the strain of one of the notes she whispers into the thin air coming from endless hours of rehearsing. Main lead but still very much human.
She shouldn’t give a shit. Hyun can start peeing orange like the color of the energy drinks she is having, and she shouldn’t mind, but what does she do instead when leaning against her seat and looking to Hyun’s lonesome speech?
“I don’t think you should be drinking that many energy drinks.”
Hyun looks different when she looks over to her. Her eyes seem to be unable to close, bottom lip stuck in between her teeth, dragged across the surface before tilting her head to the side. “How about your start minding your own business?”
She shrugs. This is a woman, after all, and they may be miles apart personality-wise, but she can’t bring herself to look at Hyun ruin his own health just to function a few more hours on stage. “Well, it’s minding my business. I don’t want to be the one to take you to the ER when one of your kidneys explodes.”
Hyun scoffs, moving her hair away from her face before looking back at her reflection in the mirror. “I’d rather die than share a car with you.”
Why does she even try with this one? It’s clear that she won’t ever let herself be pampered, even when she worries about her health. “You know what? Invite me when that happens. The happiest day of my life, for sure.” She replies, rubbing on her face harshly, not caring if she takes off the entirety of her makeup before tossing her bag over her shoulder and getting off the chair.
When she gets out of her second home, the city welcomes her. Bustling lights, passing cars, the speech that never stops…and yet, she can’t bring herself to like it. She’s one hair away from losing it all—the opportunity of being in this musical, that is, bringing her character to life, but if she doesn’t lose that…her pride as a person will be stepped on.
God, she really needs to stop caring about the musical for once. Her character is different from who she is, and too much practice is about to make her turn out crazy.
Her phone comes up to her ear as she starts walking to the subway, calling one of her friends that live in the same city as her, hoping for an answer when she says:
“Drinks tonight, babe?”
“For sure!”
###
For once, she feels like herself. Stepping out of a taxi, with the night biting at her naked legs, and fashion cladding most of her body. A tight red skirt rests under her bright pink coat, the low neckline of her white shirt showing a sensual side of her that only the cameras had seen, back when she went out partying in her hometown. Lowering her sunglasses from her head to her eyes, she takes a bite of the pizza in between her fingers when her friend closes the taxi’s door behind them.
“This is the best lounge in the entirety of the city, trust me.” Dasom’s pink hair swishes with the wind in inexplicable ways, but the smile on her mischievous features only highlights when she wraps her arm around hers. Dasom had been having dinner with her just a few minutes ago, over some bottles of beer, when she decided a lounge would be much better for them. Music. Dance. Perhaps some people to talk for the night. “Besides, there’s a lot of high-end people here.”
She met Dasom while in high school, where the woman peaked thanks to a viral video on the internet. To this day, she is remembered for it, but her fame hasn’t gone much further. Education aside, she seems to just enjoy the moment. “Wait, can’t I finish my pizza?”
Taking the slice of pizza from her hands, the cheese and sauce concoction ends up on the sidewalk, thrown there by Dasom. “Stop eating. We’re going to have fun and help you forget about your image for once.”
Upon entering the lounge, clouds of red and blue merge together, music boosting the bass through the walls, people cheering with their glasses up in the sky, bodies clinging to one another in a dance. Somehow, it feels like a party, and Dasom never misses one of those. This night doesn’t seem to be the exception, her heels clicking against the black flooring with white speckles as Dasom moves her through the masses of people.
“You didn’t tell me it was going to be a party.”
“Never trust a Gemini.” Dasom instructs about herself before smiling softly. “We’re going to be fine,” She instructs, wrapping one arm around her shoulder before extending her hands to one of the tables. “My friends are over there. We’re going to grab some drinks. And we’re going to have a good time, isn’t that right?”
“…Well, I guess.” Finally, the hazed nature of her happiness comes through, following after the steps of someone more knowledgeable about nights like this. She needs to let go, feel as though she doesn’t care for one night, and if a few shots and shared laughter aims to do that, so be it.
Motions blur one with the other, alcohol passing by her throat, numbing it with each taste. She winces most of the time, but the smile after the hiss is worth it. Pictures come from the night, though she doesn’t know who she is posing with, loving the pineapple in cocktails and the way her body swings as though the denim never restricted her legs. The night casts its light on her, the starring role of a movie that she doesn’t quite remember—but damn, it’s a good time. For once, she doesn’t have to think.
The bad thing about sudden, palpitating happiness is that it dissipates in the matter of seconds. Shots of alcohol are a distraction, not a source of dopamine.
“Dasom!” She shouts her friend’s name, stomach hunching as she steps away from the groups of people. There are a bunch of people with rosy hair in here, or maybe, she is too drunk to tell who her friend is. Her hands wrap around a handle, apologizing when coming in contact with the steady and strong body of the body guard before stepping on the sidewalk, hurling forward until she empties the contents of her stomach.
Yeah…alcohol is not her thing.
One of her earrings falls down, a wince following the action before she spits on the floor. She doesn’t feel any better, and she imagines she’s going to be here for another second. Her hands rest on her thighs, letting the world see her and the cars passing by on her worst of states. Worst of ideas, it was, but she can’t quite regret it when she’s beyond tipsy.
Someone rests their hand on the sleeve of her coat, pulling it up her shoulder before patting her back. Sobs rip from her mouth, lungs contracting and breaths suffocating with the sickness that revolves her stomach. A soft, yet somewhat confused, voice talks to her, rubbing circles on her back in the process.
“Hey, everything is going to be alright. Just breathe.”
Tears mix with her mascara, touching down to her worn-out lipstick as she breathes out: “I—I can’t…I feel so sick.”
This is a man that is talking to her, she can tell that much, but when he fixes her tangled hair from her earrings and continues to speak words of comfort to her, she can’t figure out anything else. A lisp is there, that’s all she can tell. “Oh no. You’ve drank too much.” Unsure of what to say or do, from her peripheral vision, she can see the man looking around the streets. Brown hair, glasses, and a black cardigan, but she doesn’t remember anything else. “I’m here with you. Calm down.”
Before she could say anything else, her stomach lifts its contents and she brings her weight forward once again.
From the faint distance, she can hear a small ‘ew’ from the man.
“Shit. Are any of your friends here?” With the smallest of nods, the man complies with another question. “W—What’s her name?”
“Kang Dasom.”
“Kang Dasom. Kang Dasom. Okay. Okay, I can do this.” More-so talking to himself, the man retreats from his spot beside her. Gone, like everyone, leaving the drunken, sobbing mess that is herself at this moment, it’s not a surprise that he left her to go find her friend. However, his actions say otherwise. “Hey, guard! Can you go look for Kang Dasom inside? I can’t leave her alone.”
Once again by her side, she wraps her fingers around his taut forearm, lifting her gaze for one second, but unable to make out a figure of his blurred features. “I’m sorry.”
“No, no. Don’t be.” The man in question instructs, slipping his backpack off one shoulder before taking out a bottle of water, flimsily giving it to her. “Take a few sips, please.”
She does as he says, letting the cold liquid go down her abused throat, the man’s warm fingertips rubbing the tears away from her cheeks before she sighs. “…Thank you. I must look so…wacky.”
At the adjective she uses, the stranger chuckles. “It’s a new fashion trend, don’t worry.”
Smiling lazily, she hears the sound of the door opening, her name breathed out by a worried tone. “Oh my God, sweetie! I couldn’t find you anywhere!”
Dasom’s arms wrap around her body, not caring that she is smelly, just vomited, and that she’s head over heels drunk. “It’s okay…” She breathes out, feeling her stomach calm down at the touch of the lulling water, but Dasom pulls away to look at her.
“It’s not okay! God, anything could’ve happened to you…”
The stranger speaks in a low tone, playing with whatever is hanging from his neck. A necklace? A camera? A bag? She can’t tell. “I have to go back to work. Is everything going to be alright?”
Dasom looks at the man for one fraction of a second before humming. “We’ll be fine, thank you.” Though, she doesn’t get enough time to say anything to the stranger with the familiar voice, instead sucking in a breath when Dasom takes her by the waist and drags her towards the edge of the sidewalk, eyes already trained on her phone. “I’m going to call our taxi. We need to take you back home.”
The night wasn’t so bad, at least, for she realized there are still good people in this world.
###
All her life she has lived in the backseat, now she realizes.
Shadows of mistakes, people in other cars able to see her, but with the motion, she never captured a glance of them. People judged her, but they never stopped to see the real image, the driver and where it was taking her, how the road was and how the breeze could change the trees, the weather, and the time when everything happened. It’s not what she signed up for, but it’s the only thing she has known.
She knew the media before she even knew what a friend was. Learned how to look at the camera even before she learned how to speak to someone while staring at them face-to-face. Her name was said by other people, strangers at that, before she even knew how to spell it or write it. It’s not what she desired, but she keeps going. Her hands extend to continue with her dance routine, stepping forward just for one second, knowing that this is the only moment to shine. One of the few moments she is not the little girl everyone expected the worst from.
Look at what you’ve become, she wants to tell herself. You’re halfway through being an artist.
One day until her first performance in front of the crowd, and she’s ready to take it like a champion. Good or bad reviews, whatever happens is the source of her hard work—rather, it’s outcome. Her sneakers dig into the stage. Her stage that she shares with amazing people, and if twenty seconds of singing is all she gets, it’s what she is going to hold onto.
Upon reaching her mark, she feels a log—a leaf in her road to autumn. Her body proceeds to fall upon losing her balance, knees digging into the wood, creating dents in the skin, burning at the touch when her hands expand to stand her weight. Her chin hits the floor, but the masked laughter that comes from the person by her side shows the culprit. Baby blue sneakers, toned legs, and that malice that conceptualizes.
Kaleigh stops the music, fixing her glasses before sighing deeply. “Are you trying to kiss the floor?”
She sits up at that moment, her fingers pointing at Hyun by her side. Supposed to be her companion in this scene and yet, destroying everything that drives her to her dreams. “Ask the one that jutted her leg forward so I could trip.”
“I didn’t do such thing.”
Kaleigh, as always, backs her up. “I didn’t see her putting her leg forward.” Before she could defend herself any further, let the fire of the stress burn through Kaleigh’s serious expression, the woman is already looking behind her, speaking to the dot of a man that she can’t perceive at the last row of the practice place. “Are the pictures coming out fine? I don’t want people to see our cast on the floor.”
The more she proceeds in life, the more she realizes she is the only one that can bring herself up, dust her knees before anyone could even put a finger over her. It’s better this way. The photographer gets away from the shadows, lowering the Canon from his face before nodding slowly. “I’m getting good shots. Thank you for worrying.”
That lisp. If she moved her head any faster, she would have gotten whiplash. Upon watching the man’s face, she feels as though the Earth swallows her whole. Rounded face, toned body, his ears hidden by his beanie, glasses propped on the bridge of his nose, thin lips and that melodious smile. A bit silly at times, but yet, so enchanting on him.
“Ah,” Mingyu gets closer to the stage, standing by the edge before extending his camera towards her. Yes. Her. Why in the hell can’t she move? Men shouldn’t have this kind of effect on her. Anyone, really. “I want you to check your pictures with me, just in case you don’t like…the way you look or something. The expressions! Yes, that’s what I’m trying to say.”
Good, because she almost thought for a moment that he was trying to say: ‘Hey, your pictures are looking ugly. Can you check and tell me if you’re alright with them?’.
Finally, she steps forward, her legs dangling when she rests her bottom on the stage. “Sure.” Mingyu stands by her side, looking at her profile for a second before returning his gaze to his thick Canon camera, flickering through the pictures he had taken. Bright, with good poses, the angles fitting for every subject of his camera. “I like them.”
“This is the one from when you fell,” Mingyu instructs, making a circle around Hyun’s stuck-out leg. “And she did stick her leg out.”
“Well, I’m not crazy.” She says, rolling her eyes in the process before linking her hands over her lap. Mingyu looks at her, and for some reason, she feels like she knows him. After all, she saw a portion of him not a lot of people got to see—more mature, he seems to be, void of a glistening band around his finger. Perhaps, he just doesn’t like rings at all.
Mingyu looks up and down her features, long eyelashes fluttering against the underside of his eyes before smiling briefly. “Not crazy, but very drunk at times.”
Huh?
Drunk?!
“Excuse me?” She asks, because there is no way in hell Mingyu has seen her or gotten to know her, much less be aware of her when drunken—
Mingyu leans his weight against the stage, elbows propped back as he talks to her. “You don’t remember me?”
From the CD’s? Yeah. From a drunk night? Hell no. “…What do you mean?” She won’t quite in fact confess that she does remember him.
Roses grow on his cheeks, shaking his head when looking down at his camera. “Well, we were at the Urban Lounge. I was taking pictures, and just as I was about to head inside once again with my new film, I saw someone throwing up in the sidewalk. Crying, too.” Oh no. Oh please, don’t let this be the truth— “I decided to help you find your friend Kang Dasom, and then, I returned to the party.”
“Oh no.”
“Oh, yes.”
What are the odds that the sweet man that had rubbed her back when vomiting, was also the same man that helped her with her anxiousness each day when getting home from practice? There can’t be that many good people in this world, but Mingyu couldn’t be two of the nice people she had gotten to know in this city.
Or, rather, he was.
“Nothing to be ashamed of. We have all been there.” Mingyu stops for a moment, pressing his lips together, rubbing them, before releasing his words. “Me more than others, but it’s nice to be the one helping for a change.”
More souls like his should exist in this world. “Ugh, I can’t believe you saw me like that.” She groans, lowering her head until her neck hangs it. Mingyu chuckles from his spot, only to build the tension inside of her. The man in the recordings had seen her like a whole mess, and found it funny at that. Wow. “…You know, not a lot of people can say that they have seen me like that.”
“Not a lot of people see someone throw up before they actually know their names, but alas, here we are.”
“What a way to make a lady feel better.”
Mingyu’s smile falters the slightest bit at that, extending his hand before saying. “Hello, I’m Mingyu, but in this occasion, you can call me a dumbass.”
Funny, he is, enough for a smile to rake over her features even when her elbows and knees hurt. She speaks her name out, letting his professional and soft fingers caress against her own in a shake. Long digits, perfect for photo-taking, but horrible to think about when she remembers he is possibly married.
“I was joking. Don’t worry about it.” Instead, she hears her name being called, Kaleigh with her hands on her hips, waiting for her to return to the stage. “…Uh, I kind of have to get back to work.”
Now, she realizes the thing that dangled from the man at the lounge’s neck was his camera, the strip giving him more leverage when he nods at her. “I do, too.”
“Nice to meet you, Mingyu.”
Nice to meet you, again, maybe.
“Likewise.”
Though, she feels someone stare behind her when she turns around and gets back on her spot, she tries not to think much of it. He may be trying to get a good picture of the one figure in the shadows that is her.
###
Fourteen hours for the first performance of When The Kids Go To Sleep.
Fourteen hours and in the solitude of that stage, with only one light on, everyone from the staff gone to their homes, she feels the most like a star. In this stage, right at this moment, it feels like a star will be born.
The lyrics to the final song repeat themselves from her lips. She knows them by heart, the reason as to why she moved here on the first place, and with her hands gathering all the emotions in the air only to press them to her chest, she feels like she is five percent more ready for the night after. Or, actually, tonight—midnight, it is, and she still hasn’t left the practice room.
Everyone is gone, what is the worse that could happen?
Just as she moves to another spot, keeping the tempo and the rhythm of her feet, a thud interrupts her. Loud, clear, as if someone had opened the door and jumped on the floor. She halters her step, watching the locked doors with a frown on her features. If that door wasn’t open, then how had the sound appeared on the first place?
Her vocal cords close, swallowing thickly as she looks around the stage. If this is a robber, she needs to find something to defend herself with. An umbrella rests at the edge of the stairs, the one she had brought with herself on the rainy morning, cladded in Winnie The Pooh logos on a baby blue background. One step down the stairs and she hears it again, that thud, followed by the incomprehensible set of words the robber says.
Fuck. Someone’s here.
Someone is here and she had not even noticed.
Precision in her walk, she goes over to the hallway to the left of the entrance door, where the noises get louder as she gets closer to the storage rooms and bathrooms. One step forward, followed by her next leg, keeps moving her towards the culprit of the noise, both hands grabbing onto the body of the umbrella with a plan inside her head. She’ll knock this motherfucker down for scaring her that way.
The robber has some sense of humor, however. When she stands in front of one of the storage rooms, the door half-opened, the sound of one Eminem song escaping his lips becomes the main source of speech in this room. Who the hell sings an Eminem song when stealing?
The world is made out of colors and opinions. Maybe, this robber found it fitting.
She opens the door with one swing, lifting her umbrella well up in the air before knocking it against the robber’s head, the smack welcomed by a groan and a whine from the stealer.
“I’m going to call the police—” The robber turns around, both hands cladding his head, his brown hair sticking out at certain spots, a confused glance in his eyes. Well, so that is why the robber was singing Eminem…because it wasn’t a robber at all. “Mingyu?”
Blame it on her sleep deprivation. Yes. That’s it.
“Ouch?” Mingyu utters out, separating the word in syllables just as she reaches forward, rubbing the portion of his head that she just hit.
“I’m sorry. I thought it was someone trying to steal from me and kill me—”
“Who sings while stealing?” Mingyu questions, finally lifting his gaze and straightening his body. His eyes connect to hers, and she finally realizes just how much of a bitch paranoia is.
“I don’t know. I’m sure they enjoy music, as well.”
Mingyu looks at her for a second, blinking, silenced, until laughter escapes his lips. Shortened, at that. “You should consider changing your career path. That arm?” The man flings his arm back and forth, as if pretending to receive the ball from a pitcher in a baseball game. “Perfect for a baseball player.”
Crossing her arms over her chest, she grins. “What were you even doing here, oh-so-funny-man?”
The man in question waves his camera in the air, clearing his throat soon after. “Checking the pictures and the videos to see which ones I should take tomorrow.” Right, he probably was preparing for the big night as well. “You’re doing great, by the way. I could hear you from here.”
It’s been a while since she has believed she has done great. Her umbrella becomes her axis, resting it on the floor as she leans on it, a sigh leaving her lips. “I still have a long way before I get to Hyun’s level.”
A bright star under a roof, that’s how Hyun was going to be perceived, while she was going to be one twinkling firelight passing by. Mingyu bites the inside of his cheek, moving towards her with careful steps. “Hey, it’s not a competition…” He tries to make her feel better, as per usual with Kim Mingyu for what she has realized from his videos, but she shakes her head, chuckling in the process.
“God, I’m making it too serious.” She rolls her eyes. After all, Mingyu is a complete stranger. It’s not like he knows that she has seen one of the most private portions of his life in video. “But yes, you’re right. It isn’t supposed to be a competition, but it’s what Hyun has made it so…”
“Then, win.” Mingyu concludes, his lips lifting to the left in a smirk.
She quirks one eyebrow, tilting her head to the side. “Easier said than done.”
“Like everything, but just wait, people will see the same thing I did today.” His eyes trail down her features, chuckling a bit to himself out of awkwardness before clearing his throat. One step back, and the electricity is cut short. “Your pictures came out fine, too. I’ll make sure to do a great job tomorrow.”
“You’re going to be the photographer for the rest of the play?”
“From time to time. As long as I’m not gigged, I’ll be here.” Mingyu replies, placing the strap of his camera’s bag on his shoulder before sighing. “I’ll go catch up on some sleep now. You’re staying here until the morning or do you want me to call you a taxi?”
Tiredness lingers on her body, but she can’t bring herself to sleep. Not when she is one step closer to either fulfilling or destroying her dream. Opening the door for him, she shakes her head. “I’ll stay here until the morning.”
“You sure?”
“I have to practice.”
“If you say so…” He trails, stepping out of the door and walking alongside her before speaking up again. “You know everything is going to be fine, right?”
One look at his profile and suddenly, the warmth that makes place inside her body lets her feel so. Being alright is something she hasn’t considered in the past month of pushing herself to utter perfection, but maybe, it isn’t so far away.
“I think so, too.”
Sprinkles of rain patter against the sidewalk when Mingyu opens the entrance door, swirls of air moving his hair before he places his beanie on top of it once again. Before he could step outside, his hand grabs the handle of the door, sharing a glance with her when saying:
“I hope to see you again.”
With that, just like a leaf through the wind, he flies away.
###
Success tastes like honey.
The magic of being on stage in a musical is that she doesn’t see anybody, but she feels them. The silence that merges into cheers, the faint gasp from someone on row three, or the flash of a camera from someone who wants to capture this moment for when they feel like going back down the stage of nostalgia. Critics scatter around the place, but she can’t vision them, maybe for the better. With shred clothing, bruises and tiredness painted on her skin, she is her character, and whatever her past said about her no longer exists here.
The only thing that lacks are her loved ones, somewhere else in the country, living their lives while she constructs her own. Jaehyo does an imminent job in catching people’s attention with his dance, though not in the center, and Sue does not fall behind with her immaculate acting skills. Hyun, the star of the night, receives attention as deserved. Sure, she is not the most beautiful of people on the inside, but her talent is outraging.
When her bare feet come in contact with the center of the stage, sharing it with Hyun, she spares one look towards the groups of people. First row, with his dark hair absentmindedly pushed away from his face, a black, oversized t-shirt cladding his body and matching his ripped jeans, Mingyu is squatting down to get the perfect shot. The dimmed lights do not let her see the beauty of him, but the camera is pointing towards her, and she relishes on it.
Mingyu’s camera does her justice, after all.
By the time the musical is over, a smile takes over her features, backstage and hearing the standing ovation, blood pumping, hands jittery, and heart on her sleeve when she goes over to Jaehyo and wraps her arms around him with emotions bubbling up on her bloodshot eyes. She really needs to sleep.
The older man’s arms end around her waist. “We did it, Jaehyo! It was a success!” Jumping up and down on his hold, Jaehyo chuckles at her antics.
“Calm down, calm down, it’s only the first night.” Jaehyo whispers, pulling away with a lazy smile on his face. “…But it was one hell of a good first night. Pizza for celebration?”
“You know it!”
The next fifteen minutes consist of taking pictures, trying her best not to concentrate on the photographer or on the hunger that creeps up her body, unable to smile as brightly if it wasn’t for Mingyu. Lacking sleep, needing a nice, fulfilling meal, it’s no wonder that she had not slept a single minute in the past forty-eight hours. Maybe, that’s why she is a bit bummed when Mingyu doesn’t say a thing to her, continuing with his job with utmost professionalism.
Some children gather to take pictures with the cast, unknowingly filling her heart with pride. In one point of her life, she was like them, eager and excited to get the attention of her favorite characters. The magic of theater is that characters, and actors alike, are not unreachable to the watcher. It’s a live source of magic.
Jaehyo is off to greet the deliveryman outside by the time thirty minutes have passed. Her makeup wipes run across her skin, ready to take off the excessive amount of makeup on her skin and exchange it for breathing pores and comfort. She stops looking at her reflection to hunt for someone with the mirror, scanning the room unbeknownst to the rest of the people there. Mingyu’s thighs extend when seated at the edge of one of the vanities backstage, clicking through the pictures as one of the children talks to him. Mingyu seems to be intently listening to the child, but when he looks for something from the corner of his eyes, she feels his gaze on hers.
Her eyes trail down his toned arms, the expansion of his thighs, seeking for the art in him as if she is DaVinci and he is the Mona Lisa. A smile appears on her features, straightening her back and leaning her weight forward to continue to rub her makeup off, not forgetting to make herself look the best as possible. At least, he’s looking.
Yet, she shakes that thought away—he shouldn’t be looking. As far as she knows, he could still be with Yoona.
A hand extends on top of her shoulder seconds after, rubbing at the skin softly, as if giving her a massage, before breathing out her name in that somewhat deep, harmonious tone of his. “…Wasn’t so difficult to steal the show, wasn’t it?”
For someone who is not a good talker in most occasions, the line has her beam widening. “You’re joking.”
“No,” Mingyu says, dragging one seat to her side, the plastic chair making him look smaller next to her, for her artist’s chair is much taller. His legs expand, interlocked hands settled in between his thighs, and she really should stop looking at those—
Her eyes go up.
“Want to look at your pictures?”
She puts the makeup wipe down, running her fingertips on top of her eyelashes to check if there is any leftover mascara there. Clean. All the makeup is off. “Is that the only conversation we are ever going to have? My pictures?”
“We should.” Mingyu mumbles out, frowning his features in confusion before his eyebrows shoot up, realization falling upon him. “Not that I don’t want to talk to you about anything else! Shit, that sounded like such—. Yes, we can talk about something else.”
The smell of thick sauce, melted cheese and corn has her turning towards the red curtains, watching Jaehyo slip inside before giving her the box of pizza that belongs to her. Thanking him softly, she opens it on top of the vanity, pointing at it as she talks to Mingyu. “Help yourself. I haven’t had one of these since the night at the bar.”
Mingyu stands up, hovering over her to be able to get a piece, and she tries her hardest not to bite her lip at the vision of his profile. Definitely crafted by an artist, he is a sculpture made person. “And yet, here you are, eating it again.”
“It may be our thing now.” She replies, leaning back on her seat to watch Hyun downing yet another energy drink, hands contracting against each other, her expression turned somber. “Hey, Hyun!” She calls out, only to have the woman frowning at the sound of her voice and turning her head to the side.
“What do you want?”
“I asked Jaehyo to bring you some pizza. Tell him to—”
“I won’t have it.” Hyun finishes, picking up her purse and throwing it over her shoulder. “…Thank you.” She utters, though she doesn’t stay for long, opening the red curtains and getting away from the actors’ spot.
She doesn’t know why she tries. Maybe, because she thinks the tension between Hyun and herself could be the downfall of the musical, but Hyun is just too thick mentally. “How did this whole rivalry start?” Mingyu says, taking the first bite of his slice before he huffs slightly, trying to cool down the piece that is inside his mouth. Even with his lips half-parted, eyes widened, there is some cuteness to him.
Pressing the pizza up to her lips and biting on it, she shakes her head. “I have no idea.” She replies. “…Are we playing questions now?”
Mingyu shrugs. “Only if you have some.”
“About you? Endless.” She says, leaning forward until she is face to face with Mingyu, taking all in her not to look down at his lips. “When did you start taking pictures?”
“When I was seventeen,” Mingyu says, not backing down the slightest, yet chewing on his meal with expertise. He must have been hungry, as well. “One of my best friends needed some money, so he was trying for modelling gigs. Needed a portfolio and all…so I took pictures of him.”
“Did modelling work for him?”
“Almost.” Mingyu says, finalizing his pizza with one big bite, taking a napkin and pressing it to his lips before continuing after swallowing his food. “Soonyoung is good, my friend. Just…he’s shy, I guess? He didn’t see his potential then, doesn’t do it now. That’s just what happened.”
“Something good came out of it, though. You’re a great photographer.”
“Thank you.” With heated cheeks, he answers. “What about music for you? Or acting…or dancing? Like, musical stuff is just too much. I don’t know how you do it. I can barely walk and talk at the same time.”
Chuckling, she sighs, taking another slice of pizza. A string of cheese follows her first bite. “Uh,” She starts, pondering on exactly what to say. “My family has always been…well, famous. For the longest while, I thought I was going to be anything but famous, like…I don’t know, a teacher or something.” She may like children, but patience is not her biggest of virtues. “But I had no option than to be in the spotlight. Got my first acting gig in a doctor’s show, and I started to like it since then.”
“You were in TV?”
“I was patient number three. That was my character.”
Mingyu laughs joyfully, like he doesn’t care the slightest bit about what the world thinks of him—every particle of this world belongs to him and gives their attention to the beauty of his existence. “Oh, look at that, that’s my favorite character of all time.”
“Want me to give you an autograph?”
Pretending to take off his shirt, Mingyu replies: “On my boobies, please.”
“You did not.” She counterparts, doubling over in laughter at his behavior. “You better have a good set.”
“A good set of what?”
Curling her fingers in the air, she replies: “Boobies, as you called them. I call them titties.”
“Look at me ruining my own joke.”
“Lost the comedic timing, but don’t worry, that happens.” For one second, she inspects the glisten of the cheese on top of pizza, licking her lips with curiousness guiding her actions. “…Your girlfriend must like your jokes, Mingyu.”
Now, let’s see exactly what happened with Yoona. Or Kim Yoona. They should be married at this point. Mingyu runs his free hand through his hair, leaning back on his seat and crossing one leg over the other. “My friends do, but I don’t have a girlfriend to tell my jokes to.”
“…Huh?”
“Surprising?” Mingyu questions, though there is not an ounce of cockiness in his words.
“Very.”
“Why’s that?”
Pointing at the mirror, she says: “Take a look there and then, you’ll know why I wonder you don’t have someone with you.” Also, because he was one day from getting married in the last recording of the box. What had happened? Perhaps, he had been stood up, or they cut the wedding short. Or, even worse, Yoona had been the one left at the altar—
Mingyu chuckles at that moment, grease glistening on his lips, licking them to press them together. “Thank you.”
Sue comes around at that moment, sporting much more simplistic clothes and holding her box of pizza in between her hands. “We’re going to grab dessert and drinks, want to join us?” Jaehyo stands by her side, munching on his meal, and they are two angels at that moment. Kim Mingyu is single, wanting to get to know her, and maybe, hiding the fact that she knew about his relationship a little bit longer won’t do her any wrong.
She looks over at him, shrugging. “I wouldn’t mind. Want to come with us?”
“I have to take care of you if you drink, don’t I?”
“Oh, don’t be too confident.” She says, standing up and picking up her coat, closing the box of pizza in the process. “I may be the one taking care of you.”
Imitating her tone of voice, Mingyu says: “I wouldn’t mind.”
“Okay.”
“Okay.” Mingyu repeats, looking down at her lips before returning his gaze towards Jaehyo and Sue. “Let me grab my camera.”
###
Exquisiteness is divine. Pearls in the bracelets around her wrists, a nice dress cladding her body, and the taste of the most delicious of meals, washed away by the concoctions of a chef. The summer nights passed long ago, but the newest era of success has come to her now. Third night, not in a row, of her introduction to the musical world, and each time she sees Mingyu, they end up hanging out after. At first, it was with Jaehyo and Sue, then, it was backstage…and now, she has brought him to a four-star-restaurant, one of the most expensive in the city.
The white ceramic of the plate she is eating from leaves imprints of Ratatouille on its wake, interrupting her speech about one of her childhood memories in order to catch a glimpse of the source of the flash hitting her face. This is familiar—whenever she held hands with one of her family members as a child, someone would take the opportunity to bring a camera up her face, judge her for how she was going to turn out to be without really knowing her. Basking in money, she thought she’d never care—but she did. Having people comment on her from the moment she was born played with her mind far more than she comments.
Beauty of the soul is never enough for them. In a world like this, people can’t be pure.
But with Mingyu, she feels the purest. His eye squints as he takes a picture of her, barely touching his food, as he’d say…embarrassed that she is paying for such an expensive meal. Yet, he deserves it. Sent from heaven, bathed in the golden speckles of destiny, bringing light to the most mundane of activities. He petrifies memories, and what an irony it is, that what she ran away from the most as she was growing up is his biggest passion.
She licks her lips, half-laughing at his antics. “Did you just take a picture of me?”
“You get a very pensive look on your face when you think about the past.” Perhaps, because it hurts her. Racing cars, lovers that didn’t last more than a week, memories of self-love that plaster on what other people thought of her. Young, rich and pretty doesn’t cut it in this world. “S—Sorry, I interrupted you, didn’t I? You were talking about the last time you went to Los Angeles—”
“It doesn’t matter.” She whispers, rubbing her fingers together to take the perspiration away from her skin. “Life is monotone when you’re somewhat famous. You do the same thing over and over again, pretending like it makes you happy.”
“Is that why you moved here?”
In reality, it was the addition of a few things. Her break-up. Her dream. Her opportunity. And running away. “What’s funny is that I didn’t even know what I would do once I moved here,” She replies, shrugging her shoulders after. “My best friend, Miyoung, I talked about her with you…she’s a figure skater, and she was supposed to attend the Olympics this year, but she broke her foot two days before I left. I thought that was the big sign for me not leaving.” Thoughtfully, she thinks back to the phone call she received in the middle of the night above a month ago. Miyoung had not rested the slightest, leading to an injury and sooner than later, a broken foot. Turns out that she would not be able to perform the same way she did before. “…But Miyoung told me it was quite the contrary, that it worked as a push-over for me to get here. According to her, it was my only chance to get a name for myself.”
“You’re on your way there.” Mingyu says, though her rests his camera on his lap, tasting the meal in front of him. “…I didn’t know about your family history or about you before, but I think people will start to recognize you as your own person soon.”
Hopefully, she can only think. “You know what?” She questions. Throughout the entirety of her time there, through the videos she had seen with Mingyu starring in them, an idea had crossed her head— “I think I’d be my happiest if I was just another person into this world. Like you.”
Mingyu shakes his head. “You’re crazy.” He tells her. “Exchanging money, power and success for…being like me?”
“I happen to think you’re a very good person.”
“Kind of.” Mingyu confesses, covering his mouth when he laughs: “But the day I’m gone from this world, no one will remember me. You can leave a mark on people’s lives.”
“So can you!”
“Probably to my children in the future, but not—”
“Listen, Mingyu—” Her words cut short then. How can she say this without outing what will inherently make him mad? “You’ve left your mark on people, I am sure.”
“It’s not the same.” His eyes shine under the golden chandeliers. Young ambition takes over him. “You’ll be legendary. I’ll be remembered by my neighborhood.”
“Maybe, we could exchange.”
“Or we could meet in the middle.” Mingyu conquers, and she likes that even more. Two souls that are clearly different but dance in the middle. Her leg extends forward, brushing against his skin, because she has seen this scene a few times in her life—romance in the form of getting to know each other, but for now, she doesn’t want to care about the outcome. Fuck the introduction or the conclusion, the development is always the best part.
“You know what I want to do?” She asks, the music in the background changing into some typical jazz tune, just as she hovers over the table, face to face with him.
You, she wants to tell him, instead, she looks into his eyes, Mingyu’s expression turning serious, cutting the tension with one of his smiles. “I don’t read minds.” He says. “Tell me?”
“I want to take pictures of you.” She replies, hang reaching for the camera on his lap, trying to understand the garment when she goes back to her seat. Pulling it up to her face, she squints one eye just like he does. She only needs to focus on him, right? “And keep them.”
“Why?” Mingyu asks, though, she can see him softly changing his pose, as to look more relaxed and camera-ready. Well, he does like a bit of attention.
“I want to remember the person that makes me believe there are still good people in this world.” The camera flashes when she takes a first picture, leaning back on her seat to capture more of his body in that black turtleneck and the necklace that wraps around his body. Tanned skin, brown hair, and a beautiful smile when she says those words.
“You haven’t known me for long enough to judge that, you know?”
“Then, give me the benefit of getting to know you more.”
A glimpse of his eyes connecting with hers on the camera has her smiling. “I’ll gladly give it to you.”
At the mention of those words, she lifts her eyebrows, another picture and her mind wander towards to possibilities. “What will you give me? The benefit of getting to know you? Just that?”
“You want more?”
“…It’s enough.”
Mingyu leans forward, his face coming in full view in the camera when he snatches it away from her hold, before whispering. “I was going to say I could give you everything you want, but seeing that just knowing me it’s enough…I’ll accept it.”
God. This man will be the death of her.
###
Two weeks in and not seeing Mingyu feels like it’s almost impossible. They gravitate towards each other—polar opposites that meet in the middle. His steps are heard as she keeps her hand to his, dragging him along over the lineal rug of the hotel they visited—for the pool, which Dasom said was the best—, baby blue doors compared to white walls, the faint swish of the pool nearby making music for the two of them to hear.
“Mingyu, hurry up!”
The fabric of her yellow dress caresses her legs, needing nothing more than to feel like she is living in summer, while the wind clashes with its coldness. Hopefully, the pool warms her body. Mingyu pulls her backwards by the white cardigan draped over her body, connecting his chest to her back. With each breath he takes, her own lungs shake, his voice lowering to speak against her ear.
“What’s the rush?” He asks, the few buttons opened of his floral shirt meeting her contracted muscles. “If I really went as fast as I can go, you wouldn’t be able to keep up.”
That’s the thing with Mingyu—he says the worst of things, in the situations that have her skin heating up, her mind going to places it shouldn’t. Not when he makes her feel like nobody else has done, as if scalding her fingertips to touch him would be worth it. Just before he could apologize, like he always does, because Mingyu just can’t say one thing without fucking up, she looks at him from over her shoulder. “Try me.”
A huff escapes his lips, wrapping both arms around her waist when picking her up and starting to rush through the hallway to get to the swimming pool.
“Mingyu—” Cackles leave her lips, legs flaring because he is just not looking forward. At least, not properly. “We could fall!”
“I’ll catch you if that happens—”
“You don’t know that!”
Floating in the clouds, somewhere beyond the universe, she lets her laughter speak for her. Never would she trust someone with this, but this is Mingyu she is talking about. The man that opens his heart without much thinking. “I promise I won’t let you fall. Just tell me when the swimming pool is close.”
Patting his arm, the toned skin coming in contact with her hand, she says: “Now, now! We’re close—”
Mingyu lets go of her after releasing her on the floor with a thud, turning around to watch the smile on his face when he puffs out his chest and adds: “See? I would never let you fall.”
“Not scientifically proven, so I’m not sure if I can believe you.”
“…You’re so annoying.” Laughing, she places her hands on each side of Mingyu’s body. She needs to get back to him, steal chuckles from his lips, so with one step back, she prepares for the biggest surprise of all. “Do you want me to turn around so you can take off your dress or—?”
Another step back and they are both falling inside the pool, dragged by her own weight.
Warm water bubbles around her, unable to open her eyes until her lungs receive air when getting to the surface. There, the droplets of water cling to her eyelashes, watching Mingyu merging up about at the same time that she did. His shirt clings to his body, thankfully wearing his bathing suit, strands of brown hair pressed to his gorgeous skin when he splashes water her way, though she’s already laughing.
“Don’t do that!”
“Sorry, sorry!” Yet, Mingyu keeps splashing water at her, getting closer and closer until he is just mere centimeters away.
“You think it’s funny, don’t you?”
“I’m a musical actress, not a comedian. Sorry.” Taking the damp cardigan in between her hands, she tosses it to the side, landing at the edge of the pool with a clanking noise from its buttons before jutting her chin forwards towards him. “I’m sorry about your shirt.”
“You just wanted me to take it off.”
“You would’ve even if I hadn’t thrown you into the pool.”
“So, you brought me to this pool for that on the first place.” Mingyu says, brown irises darkening when her fingers reach for the edge of her dress, pulling it up until she is left in a one-piece. That’s the magic of him—making her feel like there is not a competition, as if she’s the most gorgeous woman he has seen in a while. Her assumptions about herself are not seen by him.
“So,” She says, letting the dress fall to the side and trying not to cling to her own body, shrinking in order to hide away from him. Mingyu’s fingers hook around every button of his shirt, taking it off little by little to showcase his slim, yet toned body. “Swimming competition and whoever gets to end of the pool buys dinner?”
“I’ll buy dinner either way, but sure—” She needs to look away. The least she needs is that lingering voice inside her head that tells her that she’d do absolutely anything to get a taste of Kim Mingyu. It feels wrong, how he doesn’t know where she lives, what she found out when being there, how the lines of their stories always seemed to connect…but maybe, he’d feel taken off guard if only he knew the truth. That, in retrospect, she had seen the beauty of him before he even knew about her.
Her phone rings from the bag that she had left at the edge of the pool when Mingyu dropped her on the flooring. Incessantly. Even when she starts swimming with him, laughing along and splashing him on the face at the same time he does, it continues ringing.
Mingyu spares one look at her, pointing at her phone when saying: “Want me to get it for you?”
“No,” Worry rises up inside of her, swimming quickly until she got to the edge of the pool, the third call appearing on her screen once again. Mingyu’s presence is felt right behind her, but she can’t concentrate on him when she reads the contact.
Miyoung.
Something happened to Miyoung.
“Hello?” Fear clings to her chest. Miyoung, her best friend, the apple to her eye, could not have her life any worse than what it is right now. She doesn’t deserve it and as her best friend, she won’t let it happen. “Miyoung, are you okay?”
“Of course, babe. I’m fine.” Miyoung speaks in her typical purred out tone. A breath trapped inside her lungs lets go at that moment, leaning her weight forward just when Mingyu presses his hand to her back, rubbing those soothing circles that she knows so much.
“How is your foot?”
“Healed, thankfully. You already know that.”
“Goddamn it, Miyoung, I thought something had happened to you—”
“Haven’t you checked YouTube? I’m not the one you should be worrying about. Worry about yourself.”
YouTube? One or two videos about her musical had appeared, but she hasn’t been in the headlines for a bad reason. “Why should I worry? What are you talking about?”
Mingyu moves over to her side, and she can feel his eyes penetrating into her side profile when Miyoung utters out: “Haseul released his newest comedy special, and the motherfucker mentioned you. People are going crazy with the memes, you need to check it out.”
“What?” Her ex-boyfriend hadn’t crossed her head in a while. After all, remembering what hurt her the most—the obsession of always being right, the lies, the friends that he said he had nothing to do with and the way he passed her every opinion over his ass as if it didn’t matter…is not what she plans on doing. Not when she’s moving on. Yet, it seems like he doesn’t want her to do just that.
“Check it out. I’m—I’m talking to my PR team man to make a statement. I’m tired of his bullshit.”
“Don’t, don’t!” She says quickly. Miyoung’s career has already fallen down, she doesn’t need unnecessary drama. “I’ll fix it. I—I just need to look at it, okay?”
“Babe, promise me you’re not going to feel bad.”
“Is it that bad?”
“Horrible.”
“Then, I can’t promise anything.” With a sigh, she looks down. “I’ll call you later, okay? Let me see what all of this is about.”
When putting her phone down, it takes less than a second for Mingyu to speak, worry dripping from his every tone. “Wh—What happened?”
Well, time for a fraction of the truth. “Before I came here…I was dating some guy. Well, we had been dating for three months at a maximum. Cheated on me. Went out partying. The typical stuff someone of power does in most occasions.” Turning to her side, she takes the phone in between her hands, looking up the comedian’s name. “He’s a comedian. Eo Haseul. I don’t know if you know him but—”
“Yeah, I know about his comedy.” Mingyu’s frown deepens, extending one hand when leaning on the edge of the pool. “Isn’t he the guy who can only make sex jokes?”
“The one and only.” There it is, the video that Miyoung had been talking about, with over six hundred thousand views in four hours. Well, there goes her reputation. The title of his comedy set is shown there, but nothing else is added. “…We broke up before I left. He broke up with me, basically. Miyoung just called me to tell me he made a comedy set about me.”
“No way.” Mingyu whispers, leaning over her shoulder to be able to look at the loading screen.
“I mean, it shouldn’t be that bad, let’s see what he says.”
It was even worse than she had imagined.
Haseul, in what she had once thought was perfection, stares at the laughing crowd as his lips rest against the mic. His hair is sleeked back, thick eyebrows pursed together when he says: “And yeah, man, I learned last summer that you shouldn’t date a famous bitch. Or a semi-famous one. Normal, average women are fine but give someone some money and they think they can do whatever the fuck they please.” A few sets of laughter follow his statement, and he scoffs a bit for dramatics, trying to make himself sound more interesting. “I’m sure you guys know who I’m talking about, but…now that I’m out of that relationship, I can say that she was crazy. Eyes rolled to the back of her head, greedy as all shit, type of crazy.” He says, as if she is not human—as if she had not done everything in her power to make that toxic relationship work. “I would show you all the videos we had of each other fucking, but man, it’s just too crazy. I’d have to be filling all holes, even the bellybutton. When women are given power? They don’t get pleased by anything. I’d have to contort my body and shit, just to be able to make her moan for one second.”
Tears well up in her vision. The intimacy they had, exaggerated and highlighted for the world to see, torn to shreds because she is a woman with apparent power. Why is it that she can never have some source of happiness before it gets taken away from her?
“And the issues, man. God, I would have to hear her sigh on and on about her issues after sex. Just had my dick and she still had the time to think about how her rich, immaculate life was just not enough for her. See what I mean?”
Laughter, even though it’s not funny, people seem to enjoy it. Trying to turn the tables around, Haseul shrugs.
“I can’t even show you the videos because…I have to be honest, I’m not the biggest of men when it comes to that but—” For once, he targets himself, but the smirk on his face says he is not over with it. “It doesn’t matter. I have to cover my back. The bitch blocked me with the same hand she used to jerk me with.”
The subject changes, but her ears are ringing. Burning anger, impotence, and the tears that escape her eyes as she puts her phone down and rests her forehead against the tiles of the pool.
What was she thinking when she got with him?
“None of those things are true…” She whispers, covering her mouth as if to stop herself from talking. Mingyu, however, maneuvers his body to be able to wrap his arms around her. Her face rests against his chest, the cold skin touching hers, too afraid to look him in the eye. What will he think of her after watching that—?
“I know it’s not true.” Mingyu’s voice has turned serious, pulling away only to have her further pushing her face to his chest. “Do you have his number?”
Mind whirling, overheated, she hums. “I do, but I have it blocked.”
“Give it to me.”
“Mingyu—” Finally, she pulls away, bloodshot eyes staring up at him. “I’m tired of the problems around me. I’m absolutely done with people caring about my whereabouts and what I do. I don’t want more drama—”
“I just want to put him in his place.” Mingyu whispers, pushing her wet hair away from her face before breathing out a small: “Please?”
In the light of the pain caused, her lips are paralyzed, unable to connect her tongue to her mind in order to let some words out. Instead, she reaches for her phone, going through the contact list before seeing it:
Eo Hanseul (Do Not Respond).
Mingyu takes his own phone from her purse—he asked to have it there—, jotting down the numbers before bringing the device up to his ear. He gets out of the water, droplets following after his steps to be able to talk in private. Standing by the clear doors of the hallway, Hanseul seems to pick up his call, because his eyebrows furrow and he opens his mouth to speak.
Kim Mingyu doesn’t seem like the type of man to get angry, but he does that night.
Much of what he says is not understood, unable to disconnect her eyes from mixing the water of the pool with the waterfalls of her feelings, but Mingyu’s voice raises, speaks into the void when he says: “…I don’t care, man, you either grow some balls and start respecting her or you’ll have to have a talk with me.” Now, he seems much taller, buffer, as if his words may be able to deflate the softness of him. Rolling his tongue through his teeth, he hears to what the other man has to say, just as she’s getting out of the pool, only her calves pushed inside. “You think I’m some fool you can play with?”
Well, in comparison, Mingyu is much better than Hanseul. Less of a fighter, more of an empath. However, his Adam’s apple bobs up and down when he swallows, a frown taking over his features.
“You either take all the bullshit you’ve said back or I’ll make sure you pay for it, okay?!” Before Hanseul could retort, the man shakes his head. “I don’t know, release some statement, get your tongue up your ass, but you’ll never talk to her or about her ever again, understood?”
Then, the call comes to an end. Radio silence.
Mingyu puts his phone down, extending his arms just to say: “Come here.”
And she does cling to him, feeling his heartbeat against her eardrums as she cries someone else’s ignorance away.
Though, for Mingyu, the picture is different. “You’re more than whatever people judge you for. Don’t forget that.”
###
Act twenty-four. Twenty-fourth time performing the same character. The critics are getting worse.
Perhaps, it’s her fault. Seated on the wooden floor backstage, while wrapping her legs in bandages to be able to stand the aches, ignore the blossoming memories of the falls she has done while practicing, she sees the most destroyed person in the room staring at herself back in the mirror. Hyun looks way more tired than she did when they were practicing, curling her hand against her stomach—perhaps, suffering by the number of products she puts in her body to be able to keep herself energized—, eyes void of the glint of pertinence that had once coated them, bathed in shadows.
Once again, she takes another energy drink, and it’s about this time that she speaks out the certainty in the room. The one spoken secret that she whispers to herself at night. “I’m worried about you.”
Hyun stops at that moment, not even sparing her a glance, and the shutter of Mingyu’s camera comes to a halt when she finally outs the obvious. Hyun may not like her, but she was a fan of her before she even got here. Talented, she is, and her stomach must not be doing good by the number of energy drinks, caffeine and whatever else she has. Her stress is getting to her, cohabiting inside of her body.
The woman lifts her eyebrows, sucking her cheeks in when she says: “You don’t have to. I’ll be fine.”
“Even I’m not fine.” She confesses, standing up from the floor with wobbling legs. Too overworked. “Hyun, stop drinking this. If you aren’t sleeping or you can’t keep up, it’s okay. We’re here to help each other—”
When her hand comes forward to take the energy drink from her, Hyun pushes her body backwards, the anger in her features dissipating. “You don’t get it.”
“Of course, I do.” She says, only to have Hyun bitterly scoffing.
“Yeah, right.” She concludes, putting the can down before resting her slim hands on her hips. “If this musical keep going like it is, on its downfall, I won’t get any other chance to shine. I won’t get a starring role, and I will definitely see my dream die. You don’t go through that. You have a home to go to, and money to spend—”
An inexplicable feeling embargoes her. While Hyun had gained this position with hard work, a part of her existence there was just for publicity—and her mere presence is what is bringing the musical to its conclusion. “Hyun, I promise…you’re too talented to ever do shit wrong. You’ll get a chance when needed.”
“You don’t know that!” Hyun shouts, running her fingers through her hair before sighing. “Mind your business, okay? Stay out of my way, and stop playing the victim here. I’m fine. I just need to practice more.”
“Go home, Hyun.” She tries to reason, taking the woman by the forearms. “I know you hate my guts, and I would, too, if I were you…but please, just…rest for tonight. The show’s over. We can go home.”
“You do this because you don’t want me to practice so you can be better than me, huh?”
Shaking her head, she tries to reason with her. “I would never. Really. I’m over that.”
“Who are you kidding? Yourself or me?” Hyun questions, taking the filled energy-drink can before tossing it in the nearby trashcan. “Happy now?”
“Hyun—”
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go home.”
Her body brushes against hers when passing by her, the clicking of her shoes a sound that she doesn’t want to ignore. Hyun, in that moment, becomes a heroine to her. Image of hardships and hard work, someone who would rather tire herself out than disappointing her vision of herself. Perhaps, she had judged everything wrongly, imagined herself to be this immaculate being that did not deserve to be hurt.
No one does. Hyun didn’t either.
Mingyu accompanies her outside, like he always does, ready to go out with her after another show. However, as the wind bites her arms under her dark denim jacket and the taxis pass by them, ready to be called by her, she feels his hand resting over her shoulder, turning around to look at him. Peaceful, yet worried.
Tugging at the sleeves of his pink sweater, the strands of his hair swirling against his forehead with the movement of the breezy night, Mingyu admits: “I think you need to drop out of this musical. Kaleigh does not care about any of you.”
That much she knows. The leader, the director, only cares about the image she wants to portray of the character, not about the actors that play them. Still, letting go would mean going back home…and back home, she’d go back to the same routine. “What if I don’t find another chance to be on the stage?”
Mingyu sighs. “You and Hyun aren’t so different after all.” The more she sees herself projected in that vanity backstage, the more she sees herself turning into Hyun. Though talented, a portion of herself will get lost down this path. The one that hopes for a happy ending. “Sometimes, we have to realize that what we dream of is not always going to be our reality. And this is not to tell you your dream is not valid, because it is, but the more you stay here…the more it will hurt you to leave. You deserve better than what Kaleigh is giving you, and even if you end up with a small role in some show, or get back on stage again…you’re still you.”
“Well, maybe I’m tired of being me.” She replies, letting her weight lean against the side of his body, his arm cradling her shoulders, eyes looking down at her while she connects her gaze with his, down to his lips.
“I like you.” Mingyu rasps out, though, if he knew where she lived…what she saw…what she knew about his past, would he still be open about those words? “Please, never stop being you.”
She thinks, at this moment in her life, she’ll never stop being his. Yours, she wants to tell him, even if this doesn’t work out, my soul will always be yours.
Though, she fears. What if he isn’t hers? Though he wasn’t hers at the beginning of it all, she kept seeking—
And now, mere centimeters away, with his lips parted, she has him. Breaths mingling when she softens her lips against his, drapes a silent confession that she can’t quite get out without feeling guilty. If he knew more about her, perhaps, he wouldn’t like her. The issues of not knowing how to differentiate what people perceive of her and what she perceives herself, but right now, as she’s with him, she likes who she is. Her truest version, delicate, not aching to feel more, to have more of him, just letting their lips meet softly, knowingly, as if she knows every portion of him and yet, to him, she’s only a shadow.
Her arm hooks around his neck, tilting her body to the side to taste more of him, relishing on his perfume, his hands, the way he always seems to make her feel unique, and not to outcast her, but to blend her into the groups of people that fall for each other. The romanticism that falls into monotony, but it’s oh-so-perfect in its own way.
“That’s my answer for you.” She replies when pulling away, awestruck brown eyes blinking back at her when she smiles.
I like you too, Mingyu.
###
When looking at Mingyu, she would have never believed their first official date would come in the shape of a rock concert. Much less would she have imagined that, upon entering Mingyu’s apartment, much smaller than the house he once shared with Yoona, he’d have collectables of memories that he doesn’t have the time to explain, rushing to get out the door and get to the concert. A local band that she has no idea about, but try their hardest to leave their imprint in this world.
Kissing in cars is how the date ends. In some taxi, with sneaky touches and stolen kisses that promise for a better night. Hazed in his smile, in the tight black shirt that clads his body and the way his big hand splays across her thigh, claiming a portion of her body as his. After a month, even more, of seeing each other, Mingyu feels closer than ever, seated on a portion of her heart as if it is his throne, and it may be. A King of Hearts, as she likes to call him.
The band t-shirt he had bought when getting out of the venue rests over her body, halfway pushed inside his jeans as she twists her head to the side and rests fleeting kisses on the side of his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs, a sharp intake of his breath coming with the tightening hold on her tight.
“Something you should know…” He starts, only to have her humming, teeth digging into the skin of his neck as she hums. “I—I’m not really patient, you know?” His voice wavers, enough to have her chuckling when she pulls away from him and rests a kiss on his shoulder.
“I’ve noticed. Quite childish if you ask me.”
“It’s hard to be patient when you’re around.” She looks at him from the corner of her eye, smiling.
“I’ll have to teach you how to wait, huh?”
Though, when Mingyu had gotten on that taxi, she had not thought about the address she gave. The taxi driver parks outside, thanked by Mingyu as he gives him counted bills and gets out of the yellow car. Much to her distaste, however, when she gets off as well, Mingyu is staring ahead at the white house that had once been shared with the love of his life—
Yoona.
The woman who almost married him.
The one person he had never talked about.
Mingyu opened up about a lot of portions of his live. Childhood. Cousins. Parents. Music. Photography. Collections. Love from teenage years, but Yoona was never touched. Never talked about. She never pushed it, knowing better than getting that information out of him, but when she stands by his side, watching his face turn somber, he softly asks:
“You live here?”
Warning signs appear inside her head, blaring red lights leaving her with no emergency exits. The line has cut short, no longer letting her lie to him in order to keep her secret intact. She knew him before he actually knew her, and she had thought of him as charming then. “Mingyu, yes. I didn’t want to tell you because—”
“Wait, why wouldn’t you want to tell me?” His face turns towards her, and she knows at that moment that she had fucked up. He had not assumed that she knew anything, only asked absentmindedly as memories flashed before his eyes. “Do you know something I don’t?”
She swallows thickly. She could lie to him, come up with lines and improvise, but Mingyu is one of those people that doesn’t deserve that. Instead, she tugs at the collar of the t-shirt on her body, sighing deeply. “Listen,” She starts. “When I got here, I found a box that said ‘throw away’ and it had a bunch of CD’s inside…”
Mingyu pulls back at that moment, shaking his head. “No—”
“And I watched them. You were in all of them with your ex…Yoona.” She whispers, looking over to the side, watching the house that had both introduced her to the person she feels like she is falling for, and that may take him away at that moment. “I didn’t want to pry, I swear. I just…I just did and I kept on watching because of you, and destiny did its thing and it brought us together at the bar, and with you as my musical’s photographer.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mingyu asks, and she comes up with nothing. Because she didn’t want for him to close up with her, of course. “You knew more about him than I knew about you, and you didn’t even think about giving those CD’s to me…or just…or just tell me that she had kept them there!”
“Well, I just didn’t want you to think I was stalking you or something. It was all a coincidence!” She replies, only to have Mingyu running his hands through his hair, chuckling at the sky before groaning deeply.
“That’s my privacy!”
“Well, it’s not like I knew it was private before!” She argues back, frowning at him. “Besides, why is it so deep for you? You know about Haseul, why does it matter if I know that you almost married Yoona? It’s not like I’m jealous of a woman of your past—”
“Because you have no idea how long it took me to get over her!” Mingyu replies, voice rising, chest heaving. Then, a pout takes over his features as he explains himself, retreating the tone of voice he had just taken up on.
“If you’d let me know what happened, maybe I could understand—”
“Turns out I had a toxic relationship. She wanted me to be her little puppet, make her fantasy come true of a perfect man, and a perfect family, and possibly a…I don’t know…a social media presence where we showed how perfect we are but…I’m not perfect.” He breathes out, biting his bottom lip as he looks at her. “Can you blame me for not wanting to remember all the turmoil I went through because of her?”
“You can just not talk about it if that’s the case. I don’t mind. But you can tell me about these things—” She entices. “I’m not going to judge you, Mingyu. Our pasts are there for a reason—”
“Don’t give me that.” Mingyu answers, smile lines intensified by the purse of his lips. “You always say you want to change your past, to start again, to not remember—”
“But my past and my mistakes made me meet you!” She exclaims. “I can’t turn back time and change things because, maybe, I wouldn’t have met you if that was the case. I like you, Mingyu, almost married or not. I like you for who you are and who you were.”
“If you liked me so much, you could’ve just told me.” Mingyu mumbles, blinking softly.
“…I was afraid, okay? I get to be afraid, too. Just as you were.”
Mingyu falls silent for a second, deep in thought, walking backwards as he says: “I—I just need some time, okay? I get you, but I need…I need to process this.”
She tries to go after him, shaking her head. “Mingyu, don’t do that. We have to talk about this. I didn’t mean to remind you of a bad time—”
“Just…burn that fucking box and…and I’ll talk to you about it later, okay?” Mingyu whispers out, goosebumps going up her arms when she watches him go. Never had she seen him so shattered, hands shaking as he remembers that one portion of his life he never wanted back.
He had seemed so in love.
And now, he can’t fall in love as easily.
Yet, a new beginning is necessary, so when she retreats to her home, she picks up a lighter, walking far down the street with the box in hand to light it up.
The past makes who they are, but it doesn’t define them. From now on, she is the only one that can decide her future, and so can Mingyu for his own life.
###
“Care to tell me why you ruined every single one of my pictures?”
Last show, but Kaleigh doesn’t know it. Just as she’s applying another layer of purple onto her eye, as if to indicate the bruises from her character, Mingyu speaks to her. Over one week of not talking to each other, texts going ignored, time asked whenever they meet, and she has met more than the middle of the situation. Now she wants to go forward, know more of him than of herself, movement more eccentric in order to fuck up his work.
If that’s what it takes to get his attention…
She shrugs her shoulders, patting the makeup sponge against her eye. If he doesn’t want to talk, she won’t talk either. “Just some new dance moves. I added some popping because the character felt like it needed it.” It’s utter bullshit, and the way Jaehyo snorts from his spot tells her that no one believes her. Even Hyun seems to chuckle at her antics, Mingyu’s lost expression mirrored in the vanity.
“Bullshit.”
“Excuse me, Mr. Kim, I don’t think you can talk to the cast like that.” She answers, mischief painted on her face when she connects her gaze with his through the mirror.
Scoffing, he says: “You didn’t think that when you ruined all my shots from yesterday’s night.”
The makeup sponge now rests against the table, her fingers interlocked as she talks to him through the mirror. Today, Mingyu props some pink sunglasses on his head, a leather jacket placed on top of a white t-shirt. “I’m sure they look fine, Mr. Kim. They always do.”
“They’re all blurry.”
“My apologies. You may have to take some pictures tonight, then.”
“…If you even let me. You’re moving around like you have pinworms.”
“Oh my God!” Sue says from her spot, elbows pressing to the back of her chair to be able to look at the scenery. “Is this a pre-marital issue?”
“I think so.” Jaehyo conquers, but she only throws a look at them.
“He’s the one that doesn’t want to talk to me.” She says, standing up from her spot to be in front of Mingyu, in all his glory, staring back at her with a stoic expression. “So…in order to get his attention, I had to find other ways to do it.”
Mingyu breathes out softly, staring around the room before wrapping his hand around her arm. “You want to talk? Let’s do it in private.”
The storage room in which they had met initially, memory of the umbrella that she hit against his head, now becomes the spot for them to meet in. Far more cramped than she remembers it for, with a tiny chair that Mingyu used to take up on to check his pictures. The man in question locks the reddened door behind him, giving one step forward and hence, ending up pressed to her body, hands placed on his own hips when he asks:
“You have something to say? Speak.”
Maybe, she had tried the worst of ways to get his attention. Annoyance, for once, is not something that pairs up with Mingyu’s face in most occasions. Yet, she finally gets to hear his voice. Angered. Cut short. Yet, unknowing of the reality that breathes through her pores.
“I’m sorry…for not telling you I had seen those videos. It was your privacy and I shouldn’t have looked, but after I did, I should’ve told you and given them to you to get rid of them. I did, but yeah…” Her voice falls into a softened tone, looking into his brown irises, down to his straight nose, a few speckles of facial hair on top of his lip, barely noticeable and those rose-colored lips that she has been missing for the past week. All of him, really, from his voice to his thoughts, to the impatience that takes over him. “Mingyu, I would never judge you for your past. Not when you weren’t the one at fault. We all make mistakes and I don’t think any less of you for being naïve enough to involve yourself in that situation. I like you with or without Yoona in your life. If you want to talk about it, I’ll accept it…if you don’t—”
“I want to talk about it.” Mingyu says, breathing out in a way that has the warmth of him touching her lips. His chest expands, flush against her breasts, when he explains his truth. “I met Yoona when I was seventeen. She was friends with Seungkwan, a friend of mine, and he got us in this blind date thingy because…I don’t know, I was bored, I wanted a date.” He shrugs, though his eyes show that he really cares. “So, we started a relationship…and we started living together soon enough. I didn’t care. I worked two jobs, all to be able to move from our apartment to a bigger house, and then she got other jobs…and we made it. She said she wanted to have a family soon, that she’d start recording us…whatever. You know that part.” His life seemed so much easier than what he described, but that’s just what the video-camera showed. “Turns out that she got out of all her jobs, expected me to pay for everything, and lived the most exotic of lifestyles. If I ever told her we couldn’t buy something, she’d take it out on me…” Mingyu sighs, shaking his head in the process. “We’d fight all the time, but I loved her, so I proposed. Turns out that it didn’t work, and I cut off the engagement the morning of our wedding.”
“As you should have…” She elongates, only to have Mingyu chuckling darkly.
“Yeah. I was reassured that it was a good decision when three days later she started dating a famous YouTube guy and she started vlogging for real.”
“I’m so sorry, Mingyu.” With all the sincerity she can muster, locked away in the depths of her heart only for him to see, she sighs. “…You deserve better.”
“I know I do.” He finalizes. Looking down at her lips before smiling softly. “Glad we sorted that out.”
“Sorted that out? I acted like a spoiled brat just to get your attention. I’m sorry for that, too—”
“Ah, don’t worry.” Mingyu replies, wrapping his arms around her waist before pressing her back to the wall. The dry paint clings to her clothing, rubs against it when his fingers rub against her skin over the fabric. “You always have my attention, even if you ruin my pictures in purpose just to get me to talk to you. I needed some time, that’s all.”
“Yeah…I’m so sorry.”
Mingyu doesn’t utter another word, lips conjoining in a smile before they rest over her own. Much of the like of the type of kisses they had shared in that taxi ride, hands folding the fabric of her clothing when he brings her clothing, breathing against her skin as he slowly takes over the kiss. His lips part, his left hand going down to his hips, towards her thigh before lifting it over, pulling their bodies closer when he settles himself between her legs, head turned to the side just as her fingers rake through his hair.
He doesn’t care. Doesn’t mind having his hair messy, his camera pushed away from his neck and put carefully to the side as she continues kissing him. Though, he does care about her, only pulling away to ask: “How many minutes you have until you go up the stage?”
Staring at the clock on the wall, she breathes against his lips. “Like thirty minutes.”
“May I…?” Mingyu asks, eyes joining desire with worry, pressing his hips forward, abdomen contracting when her hand caresses his jaw, touches his neck and lets her thumb rub over the column of his throat.
“…Of course, Mingyu.”
It’s not the most romantic of places, but it happens with a soul she doesn’t want to exchange. For once, his name becomes a poem, and she will never find a rhyme better than him.
###
Two set of judgmental eyes watch her as she slides the folded piece of paper in her hands towards Kaleigh. Always sporting an all-black outfit, those glasses that hide the malice in her gaze, and before her lips could part to utter one of her simplistic sentences, she bathes on the glow of getting out of her last show. Of trying her best, and yet, not having the best outcome.
“It’s over.” She says, sighing deeply with joined lips as she rests her hands in the depths of her jeans’ pockets. “I don’t want to be part of this musical anymore. Thank you for the opportunity, but I feel as though I don’t fit this team…or your vision of me, whatsoever.”
There, while the rest of the team are taking off their makeups, getting rid of their clothing, children bustling around, overexcited from the sceneries, Kaleigh is speechless. Hyun, on one hand, steps forward, eyes widened.
“She can’t leave.” Turning to her, she shakes her head. “You can’t leave, you’re one of the main characters.”
“I don’t think I will continue down a path of happiness if I stay here. My mental health comes first, and Kaleigh can’t bring me that as a director.” She adds, pointing at the paper in between Kaleigh’s hands, still unopened. “Right there, you can see my resignation letter. I don’t want to be part of this team anymore, and Kaleigh can choose to talk badly about me as an actress if she so pleases.”
Kaleigh scoffs from her spot, nodding at what she says. “Of course, I will. How unprofessional do you have to be to leave the musical like this?”
What hurts her the most is leaving her cast. Leaving her character, ever, that wants to give out such an important message about the reality people live. Instead, she has to let go. Better opportunities will come for a dream that is not yet set in stone. “Very. But I think it’s the best decision.” Pushing herself away from the situation, she starts walking away from the stage. Her home, really, but one that will fall to shambles if she doesn’t leave now.
She doesn’t expect to hear someone’s voice then. “We need you.” Mixed with her name, Hyun speaks. The woman that hates her the most, yet, when turning around, seems to look at her with a plea in her brown eyes. She smiles, because Hyun deserves it. The woman is given, that much she can say.
“You don’t.” She answers, sighing deeply. “The stage needs you, but it doesn’t need me. As long as you keep this story alive, I can be replaced. That, you don’t have to worry about—”
“But you won the audition—”
“No, it was given to me.” Truthfully, the more she thought about it, the more she realized Kaleigh never wanted her there for her talent. “And I don’t want to be there for publicity. I don’t need that pressure on me. So, the real talent should stay.”
With that, she turns around, giving the last few steps until the coldness of the night bites at her skin.
Seated on the sidewalk, Mingyu rummages through his phone, unaware of her presence as he listens to music with his earphones plugged in. The cars pass by, gray concrete matching his dark outfit. Just a few hours earlier, she had seen him without him, but not sedated yet, she kneels until she is hugging him from behind, pressing a kiss to his cheek and humming in delight at the heat of his body.
Not hers. A person can’t be hers. And though he isn’t hers, she doesn’t mind it.
Mingyu takes off one of his earphones, turning around to look at her and asking a silent question with his eyes.
“What?” She puzzles, only to have Mingyu widening his eyes.
“How did it go?”
“Badly. It hurts.” Her heart aches at the idea of not getting another chance, giving all her might into acting tonight…and perhaps, the only night that she will get to act again. “But it’s what I had to do. I’m going to find a better opportunity later on.”
His smile widens, leaning forward to steal a kiss from her lips before joining his free hand with the ones conjoined over his stomach. “I’m so proud of you.”
“If you’re so proud, let me invite you to dinner.” Standing up, she watches as he follows after her steps.
“Let me pay for once!” He whines, only to see her shaking her head.
“Nope. I’m your designated sugar mommy.”
“You’re totally not.” Mingyu denies, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.
“Come on, let me live the dream.”
Though, hers will remain paused for now…until a better chance comes about. A real one, perhaps.
###
Bad news always come like a train-wreck. Life is silent for a second, too eerily silent, and the moment she opens her eyes, everything is shattered. This time around, it wasn’t any different. Seated on the counter, Mingyu working on making a set of pancakes, taking his precious time on heating them to utter perfection, she doesn’t think anything when turning on her phone. If anything, she is staring forward, at the way Mingyu’s back muscles contract with the movements of his arms.
Kim Mingyu has this magic of appearing in someone’s life and never giving the person the benefit of asking themselves if they want him to leave. She doesn’t, and that’s factual. A little above a month after she left her job at the musical, she has tried to avoid all contact with everyone from her cast—from Jaehyo to Sue, obviously with Hyun, trying her hardest to show to her family and friends back at home that she can stay here and fulfill a dream. So far, nothing has worked.
But Mingyu has.
Not spoken into the night but fallen into place, Mingyu spends more time at her place than he does on his, giving a piece of his heart to her, while he has all of hers. With each passing day, the comfort of him becomes the sunlight of her days, though the clouds seem to gather in her personal life. Mingyu finds gigs, but the tabloids have forgotten about her after the viral video of her past relationship.
This time around, the headlines in her phone—from the notifications of her favorite magazine—inform her something more.
Han Hyun dies while practicing for new musical. Doctors confirm gastrointestinal bleeding.
When standing up, the chair falls behind her. Fear. Petrification. Perhaps, regret. Hyun had so much life within her—a pulsating need to be the best, and she was. Then, stress took up all of her life. So young, yet now not existing in the same world as them.
The room seems to rotate by the time Mingyu speaks her name into the dense air. “Hey, what happened?” He moves towards her, but she gives a few steps back, uttering the words that hurt her just by hearing them.
“Hyun died.”
One never really thinks about an enemy dying. A rival, really. The fear starts to become palpable when people think of their loved ones dying, but when it comes to someone that they can’t stand…it almost seems favorable. To have them away from this world. Yet, she can’t even utter another word, entering her room and throwing herself into the bed. The sheets are crumpled between her palms, tears blinding her vision as she thinks of all the times, she bumped hands with Hyun.
She was so talented.
It almost felt like she had to take care of her. Each and every single time she told her to mind her own business, she never did.
The door opens softly, her name called once again, though she doesn’t want to listen. Never has she liked Mingyu seeing her crying, but at this point, when he rests his weight next to her on the bed, his elbow resting adjacent to her body as he horizontally leans his weight on her back, she can’t help but let out a little weep.
“Hey…” His fingers trail down her spine, speaking softly. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not.” She turns around, hair done a mess as she stares into his eyes, trying to stop the hiccups that shake her frame. “She had so much to give, and look at what happened to her. I couldn’t even—I don’t know, say goodbye to her?”
“You don’t have to think about what you didn’t do.” Mingyu replies after a few seconds of silence, bringing his body forward until he is hovering over her, kissing the tears away before pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “…You can only think about what you’re going to do now. Not take people for granted. Get to know people better. Avoid rivalries. That’s all you can do.”
Staring up at him, she realizes one thing. One day, we’re here, the other, we’re not. We don’t belong to anyone—not even ourselves—, but to the world instead. Life plays with us like marionettes, puts us in places that we think we can never get out of, but the road ahead is so much more surprising. Living in a labyrinth, looking for people who understood her, new beginnings and thrilling stories, she found someone. A person that she doesn’t want to lose, and someone whom hasn’t heard the truth. The full and heart-wrenching truth.
Because Mingyu is there. Belongs to the universe, and never to her. One day, anything could happen. He could get tired, bored, could simply move on and call it quits. He could come home one day and say that he doesn’t want to be with her anymore. But now, as his sleepy gaze stares at her with worry, she realizes that she doesn’t want him to belong to her. She wants to be with him. Aches and desires to spill her truth out and enjoy him for the time that life plants him there for her to enjoy.
May the flowers bloom of the seeds her words leave. They could die, but they will get to grow first.
“…I have to tell you something. Before it’s too late to actually say it…” She mumbles, rubbing her eyes and her nose, sniffling softly before looking into his eyes. There has always been this understanding in him, even when he doesn’t always say the proper thing—as if he knows, deep within him, that they understand each other. That no matter how many times mistakes settle on their hearts, they know their deepest intentions. “It may be too soon for you and I know I said I’d wait until you’re ready but—”
“I love you.” He says it first, aware, not shying away, savoring the taste on the roof of his mouth before stealing another kiss away from her lips. “I don’t want to wait. Good things can’t wait.”
He always said he wasn’t the most patient, but perhaps, she was the one that would wait a thousand years just to have him.
There is not an exact reason that she can think of as to why he would love her. Why, out of all things, Mingyu would open up his heart again—and why she does, too. They have been broken, but they grew two new, stronger hearts. Not fixing the old ones, but helping each other craft a new organ. One where he made a home for her, and she has made a throne for him.
“I love you and I want you to know that I’m here for you. For anything. Whatever you need me for.” He breathes out, rubbing his fingers on her cheek before looking down at her. “…If it wasn’t that what you were going to tell me, I’m sorry. Again, my second name is dumbass so—”
“I love you, too, Mingyu.” She tries to chuckle through the tears, though her bottom lip pouts out and Mingyu sighs deeply, wrapping his arms around her and relishing her with a kiss.
Though love is not perfect, it’s much better to meet in the middle. Two people who will either end up together forever, or for whatever long ever decides to stay. Never can be an option, too, but she knows that whatever the outcome is, Mingyu is the one portion of her past that she would never want to forget.
And it’s time for her to learn that the hours of the life clock are ticking, and she wants to spend all of them with him.
#mingyu scenarios#mingyu#seventeen scenarios#seventeen#kpop scenarios#writing#seventeen au#seventeen fluff#seventeen angst#mingyu au#mingyu fluff#mingyu angst#photographer!au#musical actress!Au#this is such a slowburn fic like lord help me#also i've had this idea since last year and didn't know who to write it for but#mingyu seemed fitting so#here goes
432 notes
·
View notes
Text
Royalty Stony AUs
A King for Christmas by iam93percentstardust
Summary: In 1867, Tony Stark flees New York after refusing to marry the alpha his parents chose for him. His money runs out in the small kingdom of Dacia, ruled over by King Steven of the Rogers line. Somehow, and he’s not entirely sure how, he ends up accepting the position of nanny to the king’s four children: Harley, Peter, Sarah, and Morgan.
Tony bonds with the children easily but their father is harder to get to know. Steve is still grieving his wife’s death four years earlier. His continued mourning has turned the once bright halls into dark and somber shadows of their former glory. Tony isn’t entirely certain what he can do but he knows that he has to do something or else the whole country, so attuned to their leader, will sink into despair. He begins by reconciling the king with his young children.
Meanwhile, the children have decided that it’s high time their father fall in love again—and Tony is the obvious choice. They concoct elaborate plans to force the two together, hardly realizing that Steve and Tony are falling in love, not through their shenanigans but through the quiet moments they share bonding over the love they have for the children.
A Higher Form of War by sabremc
Summary: Tony is a King with a surprising number of people out to kill him. Steve and the rest of the Avengers are fighting for Pierce's rebellion and end up with Tony as their prisoner. Oops.
Basically one of those bodice-ripping romance novels I don't read (ahem) but with far more gay.
rearrange my heart (to fit your smile) by starklystar
Summary: "You dare," Howard's chair makes an ugly noise as it scrapes against the stone floors, the chatter of the room shifting into hushed whispers and stolen glances. "I am your father and your King!"
"My King is my husband," Tony tips his chin up, defiant. "And I refuse to hear you suggest that my husband has been anything other than good to me."
Next to him, he feels Steve's shoulders stiffen in surprise.
Howard's fist slams loud on the table. "Your husband does not even love you!"
Tony jerks back, burned. He knows that. Knows that Steve did not marry him for love – does not need any reminder of the cold truth, of what he desperately yearns for and can't even hope to have – but the harshness of Howard's words was scalding, and Tony can't afford for this to go any further.
----------
Or, King Steven marries Prince Tony, Tony is pretty sure he shouldn't panic when he falls in love with his own husband, and Steve tries his very best not to cause diplomatic crises.
Keyword: try
Fealty by Lasenby_Heathcote and Robin_tCJ
Summary: Steve Rogers is Lord of America, and was gifted his corner of the kingdom of Starkland after amazing acts of heroism in the war against Hydra. A long, brutal winter forces Steve to go to King Howard for aid, and Howard agrees – under the condition that Steve bond with his Omega son, Tony. Steve agrees, of course, for the good of his people. Prince Tony is a trained Omega Consort – an Omega of status sent to a prestigious academy to become the perfect Consort Mate to high-status Alphas throughout the kingdom. At this academy they learn diplomacy, negotiation, proper manners, and, of course, the various ways to pleasure their Alphas.
I will wait by Shellhead616
Summary: Prince Stark was to marry a Prince he never met, for money he never wanted, to reign over a realm his father didn’t care for. But the Prince did care for his people. So he ran away, accidentally joined a group of misfits calling themselves the “Avengers”, with their fierce leader “The Captain". Although, when he discovers the secret the Captain has been keeping, everything changes.
one day by mvrcredi
Summary: One day.
One day Prince Steven would be king.
One day he would have all the qualities to be an even better king than his father.
And maybe, one day, Tony would be his husband.
(But maybe, before that one day, Steven should reveal his secret to the man.)
My Loyalty to You by Hazein, Shi_Toyu
Summary: The Israelite nation has gone to war, Howard is acting erratic, and it’s everything Tony can do to argue with the war council to find the most advantageous strategies for their men. Then Thanos strides out of the enemy ranks and issues a challenge unlike any Tony has ever heard. If an Israelite can defeat him in one-on-one combat, their entire army will surrender. Too bad Thanos is twice the size of any man they have. Enter Steve Rogers, local sheppard and the king’s newest harp player, who claims he can fell this giant with nothing but a sling and a stone.
Whether he can manage it or not, Tony is just trying to figure out how you get to looking like that by tending sheep...
Arranged by NotEvenCloseToStraight
Summary: Royalty AU-- Howard arranges a match between Tony and Steve, but when Tony tries to run away with Tiberius instead, Steve goes after his betrothed and brings him home. Things are difficult between the couple at first, but an impulsive kiss leads to softer moments, and finally the arranged pair find happiness together.
Knight of Wands by Sineala
Summary: Steve has reigned as king for ten years, and in a few days peace will finally come to his kingdom. Representatives of the Kree Empire are soon to arrive for the negotiations that will end the war between them once and for all. Steve is looking forward to settling down, with his hand-picked Avengers at his side -- led, of course, by the masked knight Iron Man -- and also his trusted advisors, the most beloved of whom is Tony, his court magician, the most powerful mage in all the land.
But when Steve's life is endangered, Tony makes the greatest sacrifice of all to protect his king, a sacrifice far greater than his life. And when Tony disappears under mysterious circumstances, Steve learns that even his closest friends keep secrets that he could never have suspected.
Chasing Daydreams by comecatchmeifyoucan
Summary: “Promise you’ll be there?” He mumbled into Steve’s chest.
“Of course.”
“Good.” Tony separated from Steve but his hand was still gently gripping the blond’s wrist. “Because the party only starts when I arrive, and I’m obviously not going if you won’t be there.”
Steve felt the brunet’s hand slip down to graze his, and he let it linger there for a second before it was suddenly pulled away from him. He could only hope that he had hidden his disappointment well.
Fortunately, Tony didn’t seem to notice Steve’s abrupt drop in mood.
✧ ─────── ♡ ─────── ✧
After years of pining for the brunet, Steve was finally going to get his chance to confess his feelings for Tony. If only he could find him in the crowd of masked-people first...
Luckily, when his hopeless crush is nowhere to be found, Steve meets a beautiful stranger to keep him company throughout the night.
heavy is the crown by theappleppielifestyle
Summary: “Why did you pick me? As a match. Howard forced you to marry, but you had - there were other options. Many of them.”
“Maybe I wanted to help you,” Tony says. “To help - anyone, for once. Your people needed it.”
Oh, Steve thinks dully. So it wasn’t about him at all. It’s - a comfort, in some ways. In others, it’s… less so.
“And-” Tony hesitates. "Everyone said you were kind. I thought… if I had to marry, I’d prefer to marry someone kind.”
(Or, Arranged Marriage AU.)
WIP:
The Crown- the stony au nobody asked for by Jo_StClaire
Summary: Tony is the sole Omega prince of Angsold, who falls in love with the Alpha Army Captain of a neighboring nation. When his father, King Howard, suddenly falls ill and passes, Tony's life is thrown out of wack when he becomes a reigning monarch at 25. Follow Tony through the struggles of being a newly-wedded Omega as well as a leader of a nation. He must learn to balance his love for his people with his love for his husband Steve. (Loosely Based off of the Netflix series The Crown)
No More, No Less by ABrighterDarkness
Summary: His father had been discussing it again, amongst his advisers. He was barely eighteen , what did he need of a wife at eighteen? Frankly, he was already tired of hearing about it. Tired of meeting the daughters of the various men that were deemed important enough. None of them had caught his attention in the least and he suspected that they never would. Not when his daydreams already consisted of intelligent brown eyes, rich brown curls and a wickedly charming grin.
Protea by Anonymous
Summary: After witnessing the injustice done onto his parents, Steve Rogers sneaks into the Ferrite Royal Palace to try and find answers. Fate decides to saddle him with solving shady scandals while unknowingly becoming involved with the nation’s omegan king, Anthony.
And deal with all the baggage and drama that comes along with it.
Or…
A Concubine!Steve AU
they're both princes in this one by vapaad
Summary: Steve Rogers is the first son of the United States The entire nation sees him as America’s golden boy. Handsome, smart, charming, and overall perfection– Steve is an icon to the youths of America. But Steve, well he has one little issue. He thinks Prince Anthony, yes the british prince, is a big jerk. Arrogant and an overall asshole.
So when an encounter between the two results in chaos, Steve and Anthony “call me Tony” are thrusted into a PR stint of being best friends. But soon enough, they both come to the realization that they want more, and there, bloomed a secret relationship between the first son of the united states, and the prince of England.
tell me i'm your national anthem by oopshidaisy for chasingconstellations
Summary: Red, White & Royal Blue AU. Tony Stark is the unwilling First Son of the United States, whose rivalry with beloved Prince Steve threatens UK/US relations. After an international incident involving a wedding cake, Steve and Tony are forced to fake a friendship for the public eye - a fake friendship that evolves into something real, and dangerous.
150 notes
·
View notes
Note
Hey heyy, have you thought about writing another common trope headcanon / oneshot with the MysMe guys?
Because the “only one bed” was extremely good!!
Even if you decide not to do it, just know that your blog and your talent amazes me<3
a/n: Did you even have to ask??? OF COURSE IF YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME LOL thank you gorgeous <3 I decided to try putting it in a fanfic (one shot unless requested) format since it's definitely quite long and making a mini-series featuring those you request for me to include in my next fic or a pt2! :) also this is a slow burn and is quite spicy <3 Also, I did my best not to make it like the whole share the room thingy again!! ***I’m not fluent in French pls don’t @ me
Length: 6k lol
A Series of Unfortunate Events
Fake Dating - Jumin Han
A sudden message beep surprised you, causing you to look down at your phone. It was a text message from Jumin: Call me. Immediately suspecting the worst, you quickly pressed his contact, the number dialing in seconds. There was a few seconds that ran by before the other end answered with a curt, "Y/n."
"Jumin, hey, is something wrong?", you asked, worriedly.
"Everything is perfectly fine. I was calling to ask you a favor -- feel free to decline."
Jumin never asked for favors, or your help in general.. you knew whatever it was you were determined to assist him in the best way possible. "Of course, Jumin! Anything."
There was silence for a moment as if he was contemplating whether or not it this favor was truly worth asking before he spoke, "Please decline if you are unable to but... I was wondering if you'd be willing to indulge my father. He's insisted that I bring you with me to our business closure."
"Jumin", you began, "I'd be honored. I'd love to!"
On the other line, there was a sigh of relief (or of worry, you weren't sure). "Mr. Kim will be at your apartment to pick you up tomorrow. The meeting is taking place in Monoco -- pack for a ten-day trip" There was a pause before Jumin breathed out a quiet, "Thank you."
You couldn't hold back your smile, thankful that the conversation was over the phone, making it impossible for him to see your dopey expression. He hung up, leaving you to pack. Your mind quickly wandered from what you needed in your suitcase to worrisome waters.
You and Jumin had a very deep friendship following the party you’d thrown, spending the time following the ginormous celebration to get to know each other. It warmed your heart that your newfound friend took so much joy in being with you -- even when he tried not to show it. You lost track of the number of times you ended up sleeping over at his penthouse after accidentally staying up until 4am talking with him, swishing expensive wine in your mouths.
You didn’t expect falling in love to come so easily. You were someone who was quite choosey with your partners -- you weren’t one to fall easily for anyone. Even in your past relationships that sometimes lasted years, you’d never felt the way your heart felt now that you were with him. And yet, you were best friends. You were sure you meant something to him in so far as friendship, but you had respected him when he’d gotten drunk one of the first nights he met you and spouted out his heart to you..
-
“Y/n, to tell you the truth.... I’ve never fallen in love before.” He gazed up at you lackadaisically from his position on the sofa -- head rested over the top of the sofa cushion, his arm lazily resting under his chin. He started at you for a moment, his gray eyes gazing into your own with a hazy, absent feeling in them.
You laughed, “I find that hard to believe.” You walked over to him, absent-mindedly running your fingers through his tousled hair. He let out a long, uncharacteristic sigh, his eyes closing gently.
You leaned in close to him, looking him in the eye. “Can I tell you something, too?” He nodded. “I haven’t either.”
-
You grinned at the memory. You firmly believed that conversation was what brought you and him together closer than ever before. He’d always found an excuse to call you over for the silliest of reasons. Either he needed a certain form that he was positive he accidentally slipped into your bag on accident and needed to see it first-hand to check, or he realized he’d bought more wine than was necessary for a night alone.
It made you smile for months that he couldn’t get out the words “I miss you” or “I want you to come over”. Even to you, the words sounded intimate.. but that was the way your relationship worked -- you were very close with each other, as two best friends ought to be.
Still, as much as you tried, you couldn’t control the way your heart began to constrict when he got especially close to you. You couldn’t help it when you’d shiver when he gently brushed cat fur away from your cheek. You were shocked that despite his perceptive personality, he didn’t seem to notice or acknowledge your deep blush during these interactions... maybe he was uncomfortable with them.... you hoped not.
There were times the air was knocked out of you. Literally. Once, you weren’t paying attention to the fact that the sidewalk had ended and you were walking straight into oncoming cars coming off the highway when a muscular arm slid around your waist and pressed your body flush to his own. You stared with eyes wide open at Jumin, who comically seemed equally surprised at his actions. You couldn’t help the way your eyes trickled down to his sultry lips, taking in their beautiful red-wine color, blooming like dark roses. Thankfully, he seemed too preoccupied with your current state of mind and physical wellbeing. When you finally managed to get your mind out of the gutter, you thanked him profusely, grabbing his hands impulsively and begging to reward him in some way. His answer surprised you, “I--uh-- a movie. I’d like to do more research watching one of those movies you enjoy watching.. for business sales and such.”
“Sure!! I can recommend anything! I’ll drop the email by your office tomorrow” you answered.
A panicked expression took over his face for a moment before returning to its familiar stoicism, “You won’t watch it also?”
Your eyes widened in confusion before you answered hurriedly, “Oh! Yeah, I’ll watch it with you. I just wouldn’t want to bother you if you were doing it for work purposes.”
You could never bother me you thought you heard him say, but you couldn’t be sure.
Yep, you were in love with Jumin.
When you at last finished packing, you went to bed, looking forward to the mystery that befell tomorrow.
-
You rose bright and early to prepare for the exciting trip that was bound to come. You couldn’t help the extra bit of effort you ended up putting into your appearance in anticipation of seeing Jumin again and.. possibly sitting next to him on an aircraft.
Right on time, you received a text message from Mr. Kim, indicating that he had arrived at your apartment right on time. As you opened your apartment door to carry your luggage downstairs, you were met with numerous familiar faces of Jumin’s employees who quickly took your heavy luggage items for you. You thanked them, making your way to the elevator with them.
You texted Jumin: Thanks for the help with my luggage :)
In a matter of seconds, you received a reply, Jumin: You’re welcome.
Grinning down at your phone, you didn’t notice your driver's light chuckle, a look of astonishment in his eyes. These blind kids.
You continued to chatter along with Jumin on your phone, at last arriving at the rendezvous point where Jumin and the Chairman pulled in identical black limos alongside your own.
“Thank you, Mr. Kim. I can take it from here.”
Mr. Kim nodded in obedience, ushering you to go to Jumin. Jumin patted the leather seat next to his own in the sleek limousine. You held back a laugh, there were plenty of other seats open for you to sit.. but it warmed your heart that he wanted you right next to him. As friends.
The Chairman joined the two of you, sitting across from his son, a mischievous glint in his eyes that only Jumin could recognize. A silent conversation took place between Jumin and his father -- Jumin beginning with a raised eyebrow. The Chairman replied with a sly smirk. Jumin with a scowl, his father with a growing grin. You watched the conversation continue silently before the Chairman at last spoke, “Jumin, my son, I’m overjoyed to see you’ve brought your Y/n with you.” A flash of annoyance crossed Jumin’s face as he said, “My... Y/n?”
You blanched.. of course the thought of you being his made him uncomfortable... but you didn’t think he’d be angry.
“Y/n, I’m glad you could join us. However, as much as I hate to ask this of you, there is something I desperately need from you.”
Before you could speak Jumin interjected, “Absolutely not.”
You caressed his hand, looking up at him with kind eyes, “Jumin, hey, it’s okay.” Looking toward Jumin’s father you said, “Whatever it is, I’ll do my very best.” Jumin’s jaw feathered a bit, but he said no more.
He grinned, “Aren’t you a kind girl. Well, in this business deal, the contract was originally contingent on Jumin marrying his daughter -- which I was against from the beginning. After all, I know the importance of loving the one you wish to be with.” (Jumin rolled his eyes at that.) “Anyway, I declined the offer.”
You were confused, unsure where your part came in.
As if reading your mind, he continued saying, “However, I perhaps let it slip that you two were engaged. I figured you both are so close with each other already, that it would be no issue to play a bit of husband and wife for the sake of business, no?”
Jumin was furious, his nose flared, jaw clenched with hands gripping his knee. “How dare--”
You glanced at him, biting the inside of your cheek, a worried expression painted your face. When he glanced at you, his eyes widened and his shoulders relaxed. This did not go unnoticed by the Chairman.
“We’ll do it, won’t we Jumin?” he looked surprised but made no objection. You leaned in close and whispered shyly, “I want to do something as thanks for this amazing trip.. and for you.”
-
Jumin dared to swallow. For me? What the hell does that mean? You were driving him crazy. Every time he looked at you he had to fight to readjust his attention to something else. Does she know what it does to me when she touches me? Even a little bit?
When you’d put your hand on him, Jumin felt his chest and neck grow impossibly hotter, hotter than he’d been feeling when you’d first sat down next to him. Hotter than when you leaned in close and breathily asked him, “Jumin... how long until we’re at the airport?” It was like you’d drawn out every syllable, breathing out every consonant -- your breath tickling his neck. He imagined what it would feel like to have your plump, rosy lips on his neck, on his chest, on his lips, on his-- he was in over his head. He cursed himself for his lack of control. Usually, control was not an issue for Jumin -- in fact, he considered it one of his greatest strengths. From his leadership position in his father’s company, C&R, to his well-controlled temperament and stress management.. Jumin just didn’t do “no control”.
At first, it intrigued him. He could remember the exact day it hit him. He’d invited you to an elegant dinner his company hosted to celebrate (in a sort of “humble-brag” sort of way) yet another successful business closing with one of the biggest corporations in America.
He’d been finishing off yet another glass of his new Domaine de la Romanee-Conti he’d bought when his eyes at last placed you at the front of the champagne server. His eyes raked up and down the soft, silk gown that clung to your body in all the right places. The gown hung loosely, exposing your back and most of your chest, a sultry slit separating one of your elegant legs from the other hidden in the fabric. It was a breath-taking emerald color... but all Jumin could really think of is how he’d take it off. Your hair was curled and done-up marvelously with little white pearls decorating the crown of your head like you had stars in your hair... but all Jumin could really think of was how he’d mess it up.
His cheeks were on fire. Everything in his body had risen in temperature of what felt like a hundred degrees. He twirled his wine glass between his fingers before setting it down at one of the well-decorated tables. I must have a fever, he thought, that must be it. Your eyes found his person just as he was turning around to leave, speed walking to one of the penthouse balconies for fresh air. You raced after him or at least followed him as fast as your obnoxious heels allowed you to go.
You breathlessly met him as he was staring out into the night. Jumin realized that his temperature was slowly returning to normal. Perhaps the room was a bit suffocating. I’ll be sure to message Mr. Kim about increasing the air conditioning in the room. But... looking back on it now, Jumin knew he was lying to himself even then. Because, when he turned around he almost let out a shout. And his breath became uneven again, and it felt so burning hot all over again.
You slowly crept toward him, donning a concerned expression saying, “Jumin... are you alright?” Jumin backed into the marble railing. He was so eloquent normally but all he could let out then was a choked, “Fine.” He couldn’t take his eyes off you. Every step closer, he wanted to run. The stars were reflecting in your eyes and the moonlight made your supple skin look impossibly softer...
You gently cupped his face and whispered, “Jumin, talk to me..? Please?” Jumin was heaving, looking down at you with rosy red cheeks and burning ears. “I--I think I have a... fever. A fever.”
You gasped, taking one of your hands and lightly grasping the back of his neck, pulling him down slightly. His eyes widened as you took your other cold hand and placed it on his burning forehead. “Oh my god! Oh my gosh, we -- ambulance! An ambulance.. a doctor? Or.. are you... drunk?”
“My room... please,” he begged.
You looked him up and down, examining his face for strain or discomfort. When you couldn’t find any, you let out a breath -- perhaps you’d overreacted. Nonetheless, you swung his arm over your shoulder and trudged through the now quiet dining area. Most had filtered out to the ballroom for dancing. You’d been here a million times, so remembering the way was no chore. You fished through his shirt and coat pockets, running your gentle digits across his chest, assuming the moan Jumin gave off was due to pain, still, a blush flushed your cheeks. “Sorry, I’m almost done.” You held him against the wall since at this point he couldn’t stand. Maybe I am a little drunk, he thought. You moved down to his pants pockets, your hands roaming through a business card and other odds and ends, eliciting another soft groan from Jumin. “Almost there...” you breathed, at last pulling out a key card and with a soft beep, opening his penthouse suite.
You gently carried him to his bed before going to grab a glass of water and a cold washcloth. When one was placed on the table and the other on his forehead, you at last placed a warm throw blanket you’d found in his closet over him.
...That memory became a source of numerous dreams. Jumin couldn’t forget it, no matter how many times he’d wished he wanted to (or wished it all to happen again).
-
You gazed at him, looking at the way his expression hardened at times, softening and then suddenly switching to an expression you’d never seen before. What was he thinking about? You bit your lip, nervous that Jumin might change his mind upon meeting this woman his business partner wanted him to marry. She was certainly more beautiful, right? After all, Jumin hadn’t necessarily made any physical contact voluntarily toward you more than an occasional back rub in your asked after a long day at work, or if he got drunk while you two accidentally stayed up late -- then he’d sometimes caress your face with a love-sick expression and saying little things like, “You’re beautiful.” It was cute, for sure, but what drunk doesn’t turn into a soft puddle of goo, complimenting everyone around them?
You leaned into him as subtly as you could manage, closing your eyes to concentrate for a few minutes.
-
You jumped awake when a deep voice rumbled in your ear, “We’re here.” You could hear the slight smirk in his voice, and sure enough, when you looked up, you saw a slight smile on his face. “Did you have a good dream?” You looked toward your left, thankful the Chairman was already out of the limousine and speaking on his phone to someone. “I--I had a dream?”
Jumin’s smirk stretched a little wider, “Yes. You said my name a couple times.”
Your eyes widened in shock before saying, “Oh! That dream! Yeah, I was dreaming that you were being eaten alive by bears and I was forced to watch!” God, you were such a bad liar. Jumin blinked. He felt sort of stupid. “Oh,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “I see--”
Grateful for his gullibleness, you added, “Why, what did you think I was dreaming about?”
Jumin avoided eye contact saying, “Not anything in particular.”
A call for Jumin interrupted your conversation, making Jumin almost run out of the limo. You smiled a bit, a little flush rising up to your ears.
Jumin returned again, grabbing your hand. “This way,” was all he said. You followed him to the private jet that the Chairman was already boarding. You caught yourself staring at Jumin again as you followed him up the stairs to the entranceway of the cabin.
Jumin smartly chose a seat far away from his father’s field of vision. He’d had enough of his unnerving looks when you’d fallen asleep on his shoulder, whispering things Jumin was beyond grateful only he could hear... at least he hoped. When you occasionally began to whine a bit louder he’d quiet you down by running his hands through your hair and stealing glances toward his father nervously saying, “A nightmare.” He wondered if he’d fooled his father, because the Chairman lightly chuckled and made his way to the passenger seat of the limo, sliding the privacy door shut. It had only gotten worse from there, you almost shouted his name, but he covered your mouth. Heat had been pooling in his stomach for a while now, but he didn’t know how much more he could take. Still, every time he thought of waking you up, you’d grab at his chest or legs, effectively completely embolizing him.
You, of course, were unaware of all of this. You sat down next to him eagerly and wrapped your arm around his, pulling him close to watch a movie on the jet screens. It was almost 9pm by now, the night sky beginning to close in on the quiet aircraft. Neither of you could remember when you fell asleep, only waking up to the soft announcement of arrival from the pilot on the overhead and a soft blanket placed over the two of you.
You both groggily made your way to your waiting limousine to take you to the complimentary hotel stay at one of the chains owned by your expectant future business partner.
“Of course, I know you two are just friends.” The Chairman looked at you two before continuing, “So I have two hotel rooms, you’re 17 and you, Miss Y/N, are 18. I’m in master suite 3, so feel free to reach out whenever.” His eyes glittered as he said, “Have fun. Remember to act like a loving fiance! Especially you, my son." Jumin pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head in contempt.
You turned your head toward Jumin, “Um, well, I’m pretty tired as you could probably already tell,” you laughed uncomfortably, “so I think I’ll head off to bed.”
Jumin blinked a few times before saying, “I will as well. Goodnight, Y/N.” You whispered a shy goodnight in reply before slinking into your hotel room.
-
You awoke the next day to a call from a maid outside your door - room service. You thanked her before diving into your waffles, complete with chocolate dressing, whipped cream, strawberries, and powdered sugar. A glass of orange juice was delivered along with various other breakfast options and a bowl of kiwi, dragonfruit, apple, watermelon, honeydew, and almost any other fruit you could think of. Following your delicious breakfast, you padded over to the bathroom, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and running the shower. Going through your morning routine helped calm you despite the role you weren’t at all prepared to play in just a few hours.
You jumped at the knock at your door. Looking through the peephole, it was Jumin. Flinging the door open, you looked at him expectantly. You were met with silence other than a few “uh.... uh....”s. You looked at him sarcastically, “What?”
He continued to stare, not at your face, however. You laughed but quickly grew silent as you met his gaze. You were an actual moron. What. The. Fuck. You were still in your fucking panties?!?! You slammed the door shut, running to slip on some shorts you found lying on the ground in the bathroom. Taking a deep breath you gently opened the door this time.
Jumin was standing still as a statue when he snapped out of his trance at last. He looked away, “Try not to be dressed. I mean STRESSED.” he sputtered, “I-I’m going to leave now--”
“Um, Jumin?”
He slowly turned around, face as red as a strawberry, “Yes?”
“Um, sorry. About before. Um. Do you-- do you want to get some coffee? I’m still waking up, if you couldn’t already tell,” you laughed nervously.
He smiled warmly, “I’d love to.”
You awkwardly nodded before shutting your door. You ran to your hotel bed and screamed into one of the pillows. You cursed under your breath before making your way to the bathroom once more to finish the makeup look you had begun before being interrupted.
After 45 minutes, you looked your outfit up and down. You packed outfits that were elegant -- you bought clothes that looked expensive but in the kind of way that was subtle. Nude tones and deep colors, specifically. You were aiming for a look that said, “I’m not rich, I’m just comfortable. And by that I mean I’m rich.” You were never insecure about the difference in your and Jumin’s paycheck.. but when you’re supposed to play a part. And if you showed up in your comfy joggers and t-shirt like you normally wore when you visited Jumin or were free from work.. you had a feeling their reaction wouldn’t be the most inviting or understanding.
At last, you stepped out of your room, turning left to knock on Jumin’s door. He beat you to it, opening his door unexpectedly. This caused you to instead lean forward from your momentum and place your hand on his chest. You hurriedly adjusted his tie, doing your best to act as if that’s what you’d meant to do all along.
Jumin appeared to be just as surprised, but grinned, “No leggings and t-shirt today?”
You jabbed him with your elbow as you made your way to the coffee bar, “Do you think they’d be all welcoming to your soon-to-be wife if she showed up in lounge clothes?”
“I’ve never complained.”
You scoffed, “Yeah, well, that’s because you’re nice. And, you apparently understand that not everyone can live in a suit every day.”
He paused for a moment before mumbling slightly, “Who cares what they think anyway.”
“I do! I don’t want to let your dad down. I told him I’d do this. We’re in Monaco, Jumin! C’est la vie!”
“Parles-tu français?”*
“Oui..?”
Jumin chuckled darkly before leaning in, saying, “Tu es juste trop mignonne.”**
You blinked before replying, “...oui...?”
Jumin looked at you incredulously with a slight smile on his face as he laughed, lightly ruffling your hair.
Jumin ordered for you -- apparently, it was quite clear you only knew a few words in French. Unfortunately, he also paid for you, despite your objections. Before you could yank his platinum card out of his hands, the transaction was already complete. He gazed down at you, an eyebrow raised with a triumphant smirk, “Elle aura aussi beaucoup de crème dans son café.”***
“Hey, what are you saying?! Jumin!! Speak Korean or English or Japanese! Something I can understand!!” You complained.
The worker interjected, “C’est tellement agréable de voir un couple sur leur ‘oneymoon.”****
You instinctively interjected, “Oh, that’s not--!”
But Jumin just smiled and nodded.
Upon sitting down at one of the many open tables, you let out a little giggle, “I wonder what it’ll feel like when I’m on the real thing.”
Jumin quickly looked up from his staring contest with his coffee, “Real.. what?”
You grinned dreamily, “Honeymoon.”
“You.. want to get married?”
“Don’t you?”
Only to you, he thought. “Maybe. If the right person came along.” If you’d ever say “yes”.
You held back the nervous twinge you felt in your throat, “Alright then, don’t be shy. What’s your type?”
“My.. type?”
“Yeah! Like, your ideal girl.”
He paused, looking pensively at you. “Well, then I suppose my ‘type’ is a girl who is beautiful, and smart, and pretty... and always makes me laugh. And is bold but also shy.” His eyes widened as he grew quiet, “...something like that.”
You were shocked. He said he’s never fallen in love before.. but it sounds like he already has some girl in mind. “Wow. You’ve... thought a lot about this.”
Jumin looked surprised at himself -- he cleared his throat, “Just some ideas.”
You were still skeptical but changed the subject, “So, what exactly does this whole ‘wifey’ thing entail?”
“Most likely just a ring on your finger and a fake smile.”
“Oh come on, there’s more to it than that.”
“I’m sure my father has the details.”
As if on cue, his phone chimed. “Ready to head out?”
“Yep!” You weren’t entirely sure, but you were beside yourself with nervousness and a bit of excitement. If you can’t have the real thing, you shouldn’t complain about a chance to fake it, right? And sure, you knew it was much more complicated than that -- what if he realized your true feelings?! ...You shook the thoughts out of your head and made your way to the waiting vehicle outside of the hotel.
-
“Monsieur Lorenzi! Good to see you!” The Chairman shook hands with who you assumed was the boss. “Let me introduce to you my son, Jumin, and his beloved fiance, Y/n.” You waved, smiling despite the twang in your heart. You and Jumin shook hands while Mr. Lorenzi introduced you to his daughter.
“It is so nice to meet you! This is my daughter, Ginevra.”
Immediately, you sized Ginevra up -- and she does not look happy. “So.. you’re the bitch who stole Ju-Ju from me?”
“Ginevra! Be polite, please?”
Mr. Lorenzi practically begged her, but she wasn’t budging, “Oh, come on. Their ‘engagement’ hasn’t even been released to the press yet!”
You looked worriedly between Jumin and Ginevra, but Jumin lovingly put his hand over yours, a soft smile on his face, “I’ll handle this, sweetheart.” He couldn’t help himself and lightly pecked your cheek, smirking into the kiss when he heard you elicit a small “oh!”
Facing the irate woman, though, Jumin smiled in a way you’d seen him smile when he wasn’t particularly...happy.. about something. “Miss Ginevra, I can assure you Y/N and I are completely in love. She is my fiance, after all. That being said, we decided not to alert the media because we wanted our own privacy until the wedding.”
Ginevra scoffed, “Please. You barely even look like you’re dating. Face it, I know you want me, Jumin.” She bit her lip in a way that was supposed to be seductive, but Jumin couldn’t hold back the slight cringe that crept onto his face.
“T-that’s enough Ginev--”
“God! Shut up, Dad!
Mr. Lorenzi backed down at that, looking apologetic and embarrassed toward the Chairman and Jumin, and especially toward you.
You were growing tired of the entire conversation, “Shall we sit down?”
All except Ginevra agreed readily, the Chairman coughing in a way that sounded more like a laugh he was trying to conceal. Jumin's jaw clenched when he sat next to you, to your left and Ginevra quickly sat in the seat to his left.
The meal went as well as expected. Jumin's father recognized that Jumin had his hands full and spent the majority of the dinner talking business with Mr. Lorenzi without his son.
Meanwhile, you were awkwardly playing with your filet mignon, avoiding eye contact with everyone until Jumin leaned his face down to your avoidant eye level. You snapped out of your trance immediately. You looked up at him -- his eyebrow was raised with an inquisitive expression. Okay, that was adorable. You held back your intruisive thoughts, blinking up at him, silently asking, "What is it?" Jumin stared a little longer than necessary, before snapping out of his own trance and leaning in further and whispering in your ear, "...Are you alright?"
You nodded in reply, "Just a little uncomfortable."
Jumin gazed down at you in concern, "We can leave if you--"
"No. No, I'll stay." Who knows what that girl will do if I leave. He didn't look convinced.
Suddenly, Ginevra was calling for Jumin. Repeatedly. He turned in annoyance, "Yes?"
Her voice got low, clearly to exclude you from the conversation, "Let's go somewhere..." she looked Jumin up and down slowly, "...else.." And with no shame, she lowered a manicured hand to his knee, slowly trailing it up to his thigh. He immediately grabbed her wrist, saying in a low, deadly voice, "I have a fiance."
She sighed in frustration, "You're kidding yourself, baby--"
Jumin's eyes widened suddenly, and not due to anything Ginevra was saying. Your hand was high on his thigh as you leaned into the conversation you'd heard the entirety of. "Miss... whatever your name is.... Jumin is my husband. Soon. We have something you could never dream of every having because your personality sucks. And honestly, only you can fix that."
There was silence at the entire table for a moment before Ginevra turned her head quickly toward her father, "Daddy?!"
Her father had already gotten up, ushering the business conversation to continue rather than deal with his trainwreck of a daughter. She huffed, looking red in the face, perhaps in embarrassment as well as anger. "Well, you still can't prove that you're even dating!"
You very furious now, your glare cold enough to freeze the desert, "Is proof really the only thing that will shut you up?"
Before she could even answer, you geared your pissed off expression toward a semi-intimidated, semi-turned on Jumin and grabbed his face, meeting his lips with your own. Your kiss was meant to only last a few seconds at most, but when you tried to pull away, Jumin only deepened the kiss, pulling your face harshly toward his own. He tugged at your hair, earning a loud moan from you as he forced his flush lips further onto yours, his tongue gaining entrance into your mouth. His eyebrows were deeply knit into a consentrated expression, groaning as he felt you readjust your position onto his lap. You stradled his lap, a leg on either side of him, your tongues battling for dominance as you fished for air between you two. At last, you both parted, heaving in big breaths as a string of spit clung between your mouths -- only to go in for another searing kiss. You began to roll your hips against his own, gently at first but quickly gaining more momentum and roughness as you two continued to make out. You'd noticed his hard-on the moment you'd straddled his lap but it only grew as you two began to explore the other's body. And just like that, you realized you were still in a formal dining setting. With other people. You pushed against Jumin's chest, looking around you in a frenzy. Ginevra was long gone along with the Chairman and Mr. Lorenzi. It was just the two of you, it looked as if it was after hours for the dining here. Soft jazz still played melodically through quiet speakers. Your eyes met back again with Jumin. He was smirking, still breathing heavily, his eyes glowing with mischief and a clear message that said something you probably would blush saying out loud. You laughed a little at the sudden turn of events. Did he like you? You wondered. He made quick work of dragging you (because your legs turned into jelly) out of the dining hall and back to his hotel suite. Jumin hurridely opened his hotel door before slamming you against the wall and continued to kiss you furvently on your neck, chest and of course, lips. He began to grind on you, letting out a soft curse when you mewled in his ear. Both your cheeks were completely red from the heated exchange and the embarrassment that both of you felt at your candid feelings. Yet something still bothered you. You pushed him away with all the strength you had because he was just so addicting. "J-jumin.... wait..." You gasped between breaths, "...I-I don't do this sorta thing... for fun..."
Jumin frowned at this, his jaw feathering as he said darkly, "I don't either."
You shook your head, "No, Jumin... I mean... I-I......" You took a big breath of air, "I'm in love with you. Have, for long time... pretty sure you don't feel .... the same wa--"
Jumin's eyes narrowed as he dove in for another kiss with so much force that the air was nearly knocked out of you. "Y/N," he began, "Do you have any clue how much I've held back? Even now, do you know how hard it is for me not to pick you up and fuck you right here and now? Do you know how long--" He laughed sardonically, "Y/N, I swear you're doing this on purpose."
"Doing wha--"
"Making me fall deeper and deeper in love with you! I'm already pass the point of no return. Hell, I've never felt a fraction of what you make feel in a moment... in my entire life."
You took a moment to really look at him. The expression of complete and udder desperation was now clear as day on his face, his cheeks flushed, breathing heavily, his tie loose around his neck, chest slightly exposed. He began again, "Please. Please... put me out of my misery. Say you're mine, please."
Your eyes never leaving his, tears prickling your eyes, you answered, "I always was Jumin.. and I always will be. And, and if the offer still stands--" You blushed, looking down shyly and your feet, ashamed of your own boldness.
Jumin's eyes pooled impossibly darker as he picked you up and led you to his bed, laying you down gently and asking, "I know this is probably soon but... Y/N, will you make me the happiest man on earth?"
You laughed, pure joy on your face as you shamelessly cried, "Yes!" over and over again.
Jumin couldn't hold back the huge grin that took over his face as he kissed you in between laughs.
TRANSLATIONS:
* “Do you speak French?”
** “You are just too cute.”
*** “She will also have a lot of cream in her coffee.”
**** “It is so nice to see a couple on their honeymoon”
#jumin han#jumin x reader#mystic messenger jumin#han jumin#mm jumin#jumin fluff#jumin#jumin fanfic#jumin x mc#jumin x you#mystic messenger#myseme#mysme#707 mystic messenger#mystic messenger zen#mystic messenger 707#mystic mess#mystic me#mm fanfiction#mystic messenger fanfic#mm fandom#yoosung fanfic#mysme fanfic#jaehee kang#mystic messenger jaehee#mm jaehee#zen#seven zero seven#zen x reader#zen route
312 notes
·
View notes
Text
Title: Fake it till you love me
Warnings: Fuff, future smut, abusive exboyfriend, angst, terrible mother
Summary: Y/N comes from a wealthy family and has to return home for a weekend for her little sister's wedding. And Y/N asks Elijah to come with her to pretend to be her fake boyfriend so her mother doesn't try to set her up with her ex. But along the way she finds herself really falling for Elijah, will he return her feelings or break her heart?
Part two
It was a calm late summer afternoon as Y/N sat braiding Hope's hair while Kol was asleep next to them, Hayley was reading when Klaus walked in with a envelope in hand as worry written on his face as all it had was Y/N's name on it with nothing else.
"Y/N, a man came by dropping this off for you." Klaus said as the woman looked up taking it as the others looked over noticing the worry that Klaus was trying to hide. Y/N opened it letting Hope climb up into her lap as the others came over wanting to know what was happening. Y/N pulled out a fancy card that was white trimmed with gold and hand written in cursive.
~You are formerly invited to the wedding of Kris Prescott and Luke Woodward~
The wedding will be taking place on the Prescott Estate
August 4th in Texas
~A plus one for Y/N Prescott~
"It is a wedding invitation to my little sister's wedding." Y/N said as her dear friends noticed the bitterness in her tone. Y/N had never really talked about her family nor her childhood since the four years she knew the Mikaelsons and they never asked.
"Will you be going?" Hope asked Y/N with a smile as the woman smiled back, she didn't want to but if she didn't she'll never hear the end of it from her mother and older sister.
"Yeah hon. I need to call my mother." Y/N tells Hope her Texan accent bleeding though her tone as she kissed the tribrid's head getting up to call her mother leaving the family too look at one another. Later that night Y/N walked into Elijah's study to ask him to be her fake boyfriend as she knew if she Kol, the wildest Mikaelson would tease her and asking Klaus was a every big no so it left Elijah.
"Elijah....are you busy?" Y/N asked Elijah who smiled up at her gently and pulled her into his lap making her blush but was used to it as Elijah was always affectionate with her.
"No darling. What do you need?" Elijah answered pulling her closer enjoying having her close as she blushed harder and Elijah picked up on her racing heart.
"Can you come to Texas with me to pretend to be my boyfriend? I don't want my mother to set me up with anyone."
"Of course, dear. I wouldn't want you uncomfortable while there for your sister's wedding." Elijah tells her brushing her hair from her face making her smile hugging the vampire who hugging her close. Next morning Y/N had packed her bags letting Elijah put them in his Bentley while Hope was asking for a gift which the woman laughed telling her Yes.
"Anything I should know about your family?" Elijah asked Y/N as she gave him directions to her childhood where the wedding was being held. Y/N let out a shaky breath as memories were flooding her mind then looked at Elijah smoothing out her sundress.
"My mother, Loretta Prescott, is a house wife in every sense of the word and tries to play matchmaker which is one of the reasons I asked you to come. My older sister, Amelia Prescott, is a model and Victoria Secret Angel. My little sister, Kris Prescott, is a fashion designer."
"Then lastly my father, Sebastian Prescott or known by family members as Big Daddy, is an Oil Baron so call him Mr. Prescott."
"Your family is worth billions then?"
"Try trillions Eli. Big Daddy is a businessman so I told him you were a C.E.O....oh one more thing Big Daddy isn't much of a talker." Y/N tells Elijah who smiled nodding pulling up to the mansion Y/N called home for most of her life and saw Loretta standing dress in white dress pants and a teal button up with her infamous red heels hair done up with her diamond jewelry on. Big Daddy stood by Loretta in a suit with his dark sunglasses as Y/N recalled her childhood and realized she have never seen her father's eyes.
"About time yall' got here." Loretta said in a huff as Y/N fought the urge to roll her eyes while Big Daddy placed a hand on his wife's shoulder in a silent warning. Before Loretta could say anything about Y/N not bringing anyone when Elijah stepped out of the car, Loretta was shocked while Big Daddy gave a small smile.
"Momma, Big Daddy meet Elijah Mikaelson... my boyfriend." Y/N said smiling as Elijah walked over shaking hands with the Oil Baron then kissed Loretta's hand making the woman blush.
"Oh darn. I told James that you wouldn't be bringing anyone sweetpea." Loretta said dragging Y/N inside as Big Daddy followed after with Elijah. Y/N saw Kris and Amelia talking to James and Luke, Amelia still looked gorgeous with long blonde hair, beautiful blue eyes wearing a little black dress that hugged curves perfectly with red bottom heels on. Kris had gotten a lovely tan, her dark hair cut short, her dark blue eyes twinkling with joy as she was dressed in a skirt and white botton up with powder blue heels.
"Well well the ugly duckling has came home." Amelia said smirking her blue eyes landing on Elijah as Y/N knew where this was going so once Loretta let her go, she moved next to Elijah looping her arm though his.
"Kris is getting married I wouldn't miss it for the world." Y/N said ignoring the hurt the old nickname left on her heart and how James's eyes raked over her body like a piece of meat. Amelia walked up her hips swinging the smirk still on her face close to Elijah as she had never left any man alone that Y/N would date.
"And who is this?" Amelia purred her blue eyes gliting with lust as Elijah smiled gently removing her hands from his chest and wrapped an arm around Y/N's waist pulling her close.
"Elijah Mikaelson, Y/N's boyfriend." Elijah said and Kris smiled walking over to meet the vampire and after meeting family members. Y/N was showing Elijah around when he saw photos of her and Amelia in colorful dresses.
"What's this?"
"Photos of my pageant days with Amelia. I stopped at eleven, don't tell momma this. Big Daddy began to sneak me into his board meetings seeing how I wouldn't do pageants anymore." Y/N answered Elijah seeing him smile as he looked at the photos.
"You are every close to your father."
"Yeah Big Daddy understands me better than momma does." Y/N said softly picking up a photo of her sitting in her father's lap in his office when she was five. Y/N had always been a daddy's girl and still was as Big Daddy was the only one who really called her other than Kris, to see how she was doing.
"This James.... who is he?" Elijah asked hiding the flare of jealousy that filled him seeing a photo of her and James dressed for some kind of dance. Y/N sighed walking over to Elijah after placing the photo down.
"James Maxwell...my ex boyfriend. He comes from a wealthy family also. Momma wants me to get back with him not understanding why I left in the first place." Y/N told Elijah as he gently grabbed her hand rubbing it with his thumb and place a kiss on her knuckles. Dinner rolled around as Y/N lead Elijah to the dining room and James moved to sit next to Y/N but Big Daddy glared stopping the man and Elijah held a chair out for her then sat next to her.
"So Elijah, what do you do?" Amelia asked sitting on the other side of Elijah. Across from them was James, Kris and Luke while Loretta and Big Daddy sat at both ends of the table.
"I run my own business." Elijah said holding Y/N's hand making it every clear to Amelia that he wasn't looking for another while Loretta lit up at what Elijah said as he was looking better and better than James.
"What does your business do?"
"Many things but mostly working out contracts with Presidents of other countries." Elijah answered Loretta with a smile rubbing Y/N's knuckle with his thumb.
"It's nice that Y/N found such a gentleman." Kris said with a smile as Y/N knew her sister was talking about James and Elijah caught it too.
"How did you meet?" Big Daddy asked looking at Elijah though his sunglasses, his voice was low and gruff and Elijah smiled softly remembering how he met Y/N.
"In a small bookshop she was working in. Y/N was climbing a latter and lost her footing and lucky for Y/N, I caught her." Elijah said looking at Y/N with adoration twinkling in his mocha eyes as Y/N blushed lightly looking away. Dinner went smoothly and Big Daddy asked Elijah to share a glass of whiskey in his study something Big Daddy rarely did with his daughter's boyfriends.
"Your father seems to like me." Elijah said later that night as they got ready for bed as Y/N smiled climbing into bed with Elijah following. Y/N felt her heart race even though she was used to sharing a bed with at least one Mikaelson at night but she was never used to waking to find Elijah next next to her.
"He does. Big Daddy rarely shares a drink in his study with any of my boyfriends." Y/N said laying down as Elijah smiled chest filling with pride leaning over kissing Y/N's head.
"Nice to know. Goodnight my dear."
"Night Elijah." Y/N whispered as her heart raced realizing that feelings she buried deeply in her was coming back worst than before. Y/N knew she had to survive this weekend then hide her feelings again but for now she was going to enjoy being held by Elijah.
#L.R writes#elijah mikaelson x reader#elijah mikaelson imagine#elijah mikaelson fluff#the originals x reader#the originals imagine#elijah x reader#Fake it till you love me par
310 notes
·
View notes
Text
MAGIC SHOP | JJK (12)
Description: You and Jungkook were best friends who were in love with each other. What would happen when Soojin, your half sister who you’re trying to impress, told you she’s in love with Jungkook too?
Alternatively:
“Would you believe me if I said that I was scared of everything too?”
Pairing: Architect!Jungkook x Architect!Reader
Genre: childhood best friends to lovers, family drama, angst, fluff, idiots to lovers, pining, slice of life au.
Warnings: none other than JK and OC making out, cursing too????
Chapter’s OST: Nobody Compares by One Direction
Word Count: 3.8k
Series: CHAPTER 11 | CHAPTER 13
Soojin wasn't sure what to do when she saw you standing there, only a few meters away from her and Sin-ae.
You obviously heard the secret she just spilled. This was why she didn't understand why you were keeping a neutral face. It was like the new information didn't shock you at all.
Soojin couldn't help but wonder if this was you being a martyr again. She was not a fool. She was aware how desperate you were to become a part of their family.
How could she not know? Soojin literally exploited this desperation of yours for many years.
She hoped she could still use it today. She hoped you were still the same naïve girl from before.
"Hey, sister..." Soojin tested the waters by calling you sister. It always worked. She saw how your eyes softened and sparkled every time she called you that.
Sometimes she found it endearing, but it pissed her off most of the time. You were such an idiot. She mused.
"Hi." You went near them, greeting them flatly that caused Soojin's heart to drop to her stomach. She didn't see it. This was the first time your eyes didn't light up at the sight of her and her kind smile.
Your face also remained impassive despite Sin-ae's hostility.
"What are you doing here?" Soojin's mother barked, her question was making her look dumb.
You were cradling flowers in your arms while inside a columbarium building. Of course you were here to visit the dead.
"I'm here for my father," and that's exactly what you did; you stated the obvious. Your voice sounded like a robot though. Just like your face, there's no emotion that could be traced. "You know, since I wasn't able to attend the funeral."
Soojin almost flinched at the sudden change of your tone. It's stone cold. She could almost taste your resentment in her tongue.
"Ah..." Your sister let out a breathy laugh. Her heart was in her throat. Soojin was never intimidated by you because she had always felt like she was better than you. In all aspects. You were an illegitimate child. You didn't have a loving mother. Your brothers didn't consider you family. Your father loved her more than he loved you.
The only one you had was Jungkook, but he wasn't yours anymore. He was hers.
"W-We thought you went back to New York." Soojin reasoned out sheepishly. She looked timid, exactly how you used to look when you were around the Kims.
It's uncanny actually. At this very moment, you could see yourself in her. Soojin looked so much like you. Was it because she's your sister? Or was it because just like you, she had done something shameful too?
Wrong.
You were wrong. Your very existence was shameful enough. Soojin had only done something that made her feel guilty. That's different. She's nothing like you. She was better—this was what she believed.
"I did not." You responded because what else could you say? It wouldn't change the fact that you didn't get to see your father for the last time.
They took him away from you.
"Well then we won't disturb you anymore." Soojin faked a smile, grabbing her mother's arm and tucking it into the crook of her elbow.
Sin-ae tried to pull her arm away from her daughter's grasp. Turning to you, she huffed and was about to say mean things when Soojin discreetly squeezed her mother's arm.
You saw how she leaned closer to the older woman to whisper something. Only a fool wouldn't know what that 'something' was. It's obvious she told Sin-ae that there's a big chance you heard about their secret.
It's the only logical explanation why the color drained out of the face of your half sister's mother. It also appeared like Sin-ae suddenly lost her ability to speak.
She couldn't even scorn at you. Truthfully, she was looking at you as if you were a ghost that's been haunting her for ages.
"I-It's getting late, Soojin-ah. Maybe we should go." Sin-ae turned to look at her daughter, smiling warmly at her.
Soojin released a deep breath, thankful that her mother understood the situation immediately.
"We should." Soojin directed her smile at you. "See you soon, sister..."
Her smile dropped when you didn't respond, but instead of pointing it out or getting mad, she just chose to walk away, dragging her mother with her.
You surprised them when you unexpectedly spoke right after they walked past you.
"Yeah." Your grip on the stem of the flowers tightened. "See you at the Board of Directors' Meeting."
"She's bluffing." Sin-ae crossed her arms as she lifted her brows. She looked confident while standing still, her eyes were sharp which Soojin didn't fail to notice.
Her mother's aura gave her an illusion of power. Yeah. Sin-ae was right. You were most likely bluffing when you told them days ago that you would see them at the BOD's meeting.
Who cared if you knew about their secret? You didn't have evidence. As stated, Soojin destroyed it all. She also paid those employees who knew about the truth. They wouldn't dare spill.
That's the power of money. It could buy the silence of people.
Apart from this, no one would ever believe an illegitimate child like you. The board wouldn't even consider you as a prospective chairperson. You had the biggest share in the company but you weren't an architect in the firm. Only those who were working at Castle as an architect could be the next chairperson. Besides, why would they want an irresponsible person who suddenly quit her job? This was what you did when you abruptly decided to go to New York two years ago. You left Castle almost immediately, not caring that you still had commitments.
Jungkook, being your best friend, took over all your pending projects just so you could be free. He thought you simply wanted to leave the company. But regret washed over him upon realizing that you quit your job so you could go abroad.
Jungkook often wondered what would have happened if he didn't take over your pending projects. Would you still leave Seoul? Would you still leave him?
Probably.
You never stayed.
You left before.
You left him now too.
The last time Jungkook saw you was when he dropped you off at Castle so you could be present when Taemin's executor read the will. After that, he never saw you again.
Jungkook tried to go back to the motel but you weren't there anymore. He panicked, thinking that you went back to New York already.
But when he called your phone and you answered, he instantly felt relief engulfing his body.
"I'm still in Seoul." You informed him over the phone. You also told him you couldn't go back to his apartment anymore.
"At least tell me where you're staying..." He was begging you again. Jungkook didn't care if you thought he was pathetic. His main concern was your safety.
"I can't. But I'm safe. Promise." You assured him. He wanted to argue but then he was reminded by what you told him two years ago. You didn't want to be fixed. Maybe it's time he put his trust in you.
He should trust your words.
"Okay." He said, his heart was heavy.
You hummed.
"See you soon, Kook." And then you hung up.
You didn't lie though. Jungkook saw you after a few days. He got to know what happened through Soojin. Your sister was pissed because you inherited more than half of Taemin's assets. Jungkook also came to know that you wanted to be the next chairperson of Castle.
Soojin was trying to calm her nerves; however, everything was making her worry. She didn't only have to worry about you. Jungkook was also a threat to her position. The board probably wanted him to be the next chairperson.
Sin-ae assured her daughter there's nothing to worry about.
"Didn't I tell you I can handle Jungkook? He'll marry you so you don't need to worry if the board chooses him as your father's successor. Chin up. We got this. Like I said, the bastard is bluffing. She won't be at the meeting." Sin-ae reminded her daughter for the second time.
Soojin nodded. Her mother's words didn't give her the illusion of power. The confidence she felt right now was already real.
"Alright." Your sister held her head high as she heaved a deep sigh. "Let's go. This day is perfect. I'll either be the new chairperson or Jungkook's wife. I win regardless..."
"Yes." Sin-ae's lips twitched. "That's right. Now let's go and claim what belongs to you."
Sin-ae was wrong. You weren't bluffing. You're determined to be the next chairperson of Castle Architectural Firm.
You wouldn't let Soojin taint the name of your father. She had to pay for her sins, not just for the sake of Taemin but also because she owed it to the family of those workers who had died because of the accident.
Soojin failed as an architect. The least thing she could do was to become a decent human being and face the consequences of her mistake.
You knew you could only make her pay if you had the power, but how were you supposed to be in power when you felt like everyone in this building hated you?
You couldn't get rid of the ugly feeling twisting in your gut. You were certain you weren't imagining the nasty stares everyone was giving you.
You also saw some of the employees whispering to one another while looking at you.
You inhaled sharply and went straight to the comfort room. You couldn't bear it. All your life, the people you loved looked at you like that.
It was happening again. This time, it was so much worse. Even those who knew nothing about your life were judging you. You had a feeling that they were already aware that you were an illegitimate child.
It was kind of a big deal here, especially now that you had inherited the assets bound for the legitimates. People probably saw you and your mother the same way: a leech.
But you just shook your head at this. Who cares about what people think? What's important was that you didn't lose yourself despite hearing rumors about you.
It was just a rumor. You knew the truth. The people who loved you knew the truth. Jungkook knew the truth.
"Tiger." And he loved you.
"Jungkook?" You flinched when you heard your best friend's voice. You saw his reflection in the mirror. He was leaning against the bathroom door.
"Why are you here?" Your eyes widened, jaw clenching. This was a woman's restroom. What if someone saw him here?
"I thought I saw you going here. Just wanna check..." He said this while you peeked through each cubicle. Thank Heavens no other women were here.
"You're not supposed to be here. Let's go." You made your way to the door, attempting to twist the doorknob but Jungkook stopped you.
"Kook." You sighed. "The meeting starts in ten minutes. We'll be late." You said sharply, reminding him this wasn't the time to play games.
"Five minutes." He let out a deep breath too. "Just give me five minutes, Tiger."
Your breathing hitched upon hearing the desperation in his voice. You made a mistake by meeting his gaze. The softness in his eyes never failed to make your knees go weak.
"I just wanna see you..." He drawled, lightly pushing you against the door and caging you in his arm.
Jungkook cupped your face while you pressed your cheek against his hand, instantly melting. Your stomach knotted with desire. It felt good to be touched like this.
"Kook..." Your teeth chattered though, the protest of your brain was hard to ignore. "W-We can't."
And as usual, you gave into what your mind thought was right. You were pushing him away. Again.
Stupid.
"Why can't we?" It was surprising to hear him ask this without the whiny tone. He was calm today, like an adult asking for a reasonable explanation. Jungkook knew he couldn't get what he wanted by whining.
"Make me understand, Tiger. Why can't we?" He was caressing your cheek. Your eyes fluttered shut because you didn't want to look at his doe eyes.
"Soojin."
"To hell with Soojin." You shuddered when he said this. His voice was rough, so different from the Jungkook you knew. You had to open your eyes to make sure it's still him who was caging you.
The Jungkook you knew would never say something like this.
"How many times do I have to repeat myself for you to understand?" He was looking at you through hooded eyes.
Your heart hammered through your chest.
"It's not Soojin who I want. It's you." You felt his finger tracing your bottom lip. The way he was staring at your lips made you shiver. "Nothing compares to you, baby."
Oh.
You realized you couldn't use Soojin as an excuse. It's not working anymore and frankly, it's just pissing Jungkook off. He swore he'd vomit if he heard you say your sister's name one more time.
"W-We still can't." You trained your eyes on the floor. He was about to ask why but you beat him by speaking at once.
"Because you're my rival."
You thought you'd hear him scoff or hiss, but Jungkook just clenched his jaw. Deep eyes boring into you. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.
"I'm not." He said seriously. "I quit. I'm not competing against you."
You were the one who scoffed.
"Why?" You looked at him like he was crazy. "This is your father's company too."
Jeon Jong-in worked hard to build Castle Architectural Firm. Why wouldn't his son continue his legacy?
"You never listen to me, do you?" Jungkook let out a small chuckle before booping your nose. It's amusing how fast his expression changed. "Didn't I just tell you? Nothing compares to you, Tiger..."
He was saying that he'd choose you whatever happened, even if it meant losing other things. Because really, what's the use of all these material things when you're not by his side?
"Kook..." You pressed your hand on his chest and then you're suddenly reminded by what you had tried to do when you got drunk days ago.
The last time you put your hand on his chest, you tried to kiss him.
"What excuse are you gonna give me this time, my Tiger?" The corner of his mouth quirked up. Amusement was written all over his face. "Don't tell me you're gonna say you don't think I'm in love with you?"
Jeon Jungkook was the only person you knew who was never scared to admit his true feelings. You just knew he would confess his love at any chance he got. It's like he didn't mind if he got his heart broken. Truthfully, it felt like he would get his heart broken if he didn't confess all the time.
He had always been like this. Always genuine, never scared. He acted based on what he felt and he's never sorry for it.
"Are you?" You weren't sure what took over you when you knitted your brows together and asked this.
Jungkook's eyes grew big and then he let out a dramatic gasp. It was as though he couldn't fathom the words that left your mouth.
"Where is this coming from?" He swallowed thickly, disbelief was still apparent in his eyes. "You don't think I—wait. What?"
Jungkook blinked. Once. Twice.
"Shit. You seriously think I'm not in..." He trailed off, "oh." It's like something clicked. Jungkook's disbelief turned into credence when he realized something.
He stared at you with pursed lips, like he was trying to figure you out. Your expression seemed like you were challenging him that Jungkook wasn't sure what to do.
He felt like you're not going to believe whatever he would say, so instead of blabbering how crazy he was for you, he just used his mouth into something that shocked you.
Jungkook leaned forward and without hesitating, he kissed you.
Hard.
It was as though you were waiting for him to do that because your response was instant. You kissed Jungkook back like a hungry person who hadn't eaten in days.
Jungkook pressed his chest against yours, like he wasn't content with your proximity. He wanted to be closer to you even more.
"You don't think I love you because—" He bit your lip, making you moan. Jungkook pushed your body weight against the wall with his own. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your dress hiking up in the process. "—I didn't kiss you when you were drunk?"
He got it now. You're sulking like a kid because of it? Huh. What did you want him to do? Kiss you and then have you hate him since he wasn't able to control himself?
"You're a fool if you think I didn't want to do it. I was literally on the verge of giving you my whole world right there and then." You parted your lips and allowed his tongue to explore the inside of your mouth.
Jungkook was the very definition of sweet. Everything about him tasted sweet, heavenly, and addicting. It was like he was an angel, but in reality, he made you weak. A devil meant to punish your heart for wanting to take more than you could handle.
Jungkook gave you so, so much more and you couldn't stop taking it all.
"But I don't want to take advantage of you. I want you to really want me, to really mean it when you kiss me." He cupped your ass as he hummed and groaned with desire.
You felt bolder when you asked him; "do you think I mean it now?" In between kisses.
Jungkook swiped his tongue along your teeth. "Yeah," he answered yet he groaned in dissatisfaction. "But I'm selfish, Tiger...I want more than this."
He stopped kissing you, opting to press his forehead against yours. He breathed you in. He was letting the selfish part of him consume him again.
Jungkook wanted you with all of his heart. He was disgustingly in love with you.
"Love is not my priority right now, Jungkook." You said since it was the truth. You had the opportunity to help people serve justice.
"I know.” And he understood it. Jungkook was nuzzling your nose. "Promise me you're not gonna hold back..."
He knew how much you loved Soojin. He was a little worried you're going to back down once you saw sadness in your sister's features.
"I won't." But you weren't that person anymore.
It's interesting, really. Some people swore they'd never change but there's always that one circumstance which would transform them either into a better or worse version of themselves. You hadn't realized yet if your metamorphosis was the former or the latter. All you knew was that you had reached your breaking point—your limit.
"Good." Jungkook smiled softly at you. His eyes were crinkling. "I know it. I called you Tiger for a reason."
He was finally telling you the reason why he crafted that nickname for you. He didn't elucidate any further but you felt like you already understood. Tigers represented courage. To some, it symbolized truth and justice.
"Thanks, Kook." You returned the smile. Jungkook helped straighten your dress. He kissed you one last time before opening the door so you two could face the challenge set for today.
You arrived at the conference room just in time. Soojin and Sin-ae were already present. Your two brothers were here as well. They're shareholders too.
Once the quorum was recognized, the vice chairperson made a simple statement. The agenda for today was also discussed. The topic mostly revolved around the firm's responsibilities and liabilities—both civil and criminal—to the affected people.
There had been major changes with regard to ownership too. It had come to the attention of the board and other stockholders that the Kims were no longer the biggest investors in the firm.
"Quite the opposite actually." Jungkook leaned against the backrest of the chair as he crossed his arm over his chest.
He looked so relaxed, as if the matter being discussed didn't concern him.
Yes, that's actually the truth. Jungkook was just asked if he had the biggest share in Castle Architectural Firm.
"I sold all my shares. I'm just here to officially announce that I'm no longer tied to the company. I quit both as an investor and an architect."
There had been a protest after Jungkook said those words. It's clear that the majority of them couldn't accept this.
"This is ridiculous! Who will be the next chairperson now?" Mr. Han balled his hands into a fist.
Jungkook remembered this man. How could he forget? He's the same scum who disrespected Soojin and basically all women. He's a misogynistic piece of shit.
"It's not my fault you're not informed. All information is laid down for investors like you. I am not competing against the Kims."
It was revealed right there and then that Taemin's illegitimate child and Soojin were the candidates to be the next chairperson.
Of course Sin-ae lost her composure. It's expected. She's dramatic like that. She was shouting and demanding how this became possible.
The charter and the country's law stated that in order to become the company's chairperson of a professional corporation, one should be employed as an architect in the firm first.
Sin-ae talked to the Human Resources Manager before. The employee confirmed that you weren't hired. You didn't even apply.
"Oh I'm not talking about me, Mam." You smirked at your father's wife. "You see..."
For dramatic effect, you stood up and walked around the room. Everyone was either looking at you with anticipation or hatred.
Jungkook was the only one looking at you in awe. He liked seeing you like this, in control and confident. He pouted while watching you. He wished he could kiss you again.
"I know it's not a secret anymore that I'm Kim Taemin's child. But..."
But. There's this word again. More often than not, the word but followed something negative...or shocking.
In this case, it's the latter.
You saw surprise written in their faces as you revealed the truth:
"I'm not the only bastard of Kim Taemin." You stood behind the chair of one of the shareholders and architects here at Castle.
You tapped his back, causing him to sit straight.
"Everyone, meet Jung Hoseok—or should I say Kim Hoseok, the eldest son of Kim Taemin..."
Hoseok smirked too as he said “let the game begin,” under his breath.
#jungkook fluff#jungkook angst#jungkook x reader#jungkook x y/n#jungkook x you#jungkook best friend#jungkook best friends to lovers#best friend jungkook#jungkook series#jungkook romance#jungkook fic#jjk fic#jjk#bts jeon jeongguk#boyfriend jungkook#armywriterssupport
217 notes
·
View notes
Text
ACT 2 - Aesthetics - Agape Series
Act 2: The Longing Heart
Summary: Lingering looks across the room, small touches of the hand, unsaid words and two beating hearts were becoming a familiar look in the 118, but it's all a struggle when one of the firefighters tells another to try again with their wife, not caring for the pain it causes, it's a good thing she knows a doctor to keep her heart in check.
"Why are you back with Shannon if it was something you never wanted?" Buck questioned, leaning against the ambulance as he watched Eddie restock. "Kasey said it be good," Eddie sighs, pausing as he places an arm to rest against the vehicle, he pressed his forehead against his arm, looking down as he watched his chest rise and fall in thought. "Christopher deserves both parents, and he does." He nodded to himself which only cause Buck's brows to furrow. "But that's not what you want..." He trailed off only for Eddie to pick up from it. "No," he pushes himself slightly, his arm was replaced by his shoulder the moment he turned around to look at Buck with his lips in a thin line. "The person I want is the one flirting with some doctor..." his eyes move away before looking back at the blond, "but it's alright," he mutters with a gentle shrug, "I always knew that I be the one to fall for someone who could never return the same feelings..."
"She's your wife Eddie," Kasey points out as she sat upon the wall next to her friend, palms planted down onto the side of it as she watched her legs swing ever so slightly like a little kid. "I know," he sighs as he looks around. "You're always going to love her." "I did love her..." Eddie confirms, eyes glancing at Kasey for a second before looking down at his lap, pressing his lips together and raised his brows ever so slightly, "but romantically I think there's someone who I could love more." He spared her another glance before uttering, "Shannon and I were always destined to fall apart."
"You know what I've been thinking about?" He whispers as they laid on the grass outside the burned down house. "What?" She turns her eyes away from the stars above them to look at him, and when she did he gave her the softest smile in the world - a smile of thankfulness. "You're kind of my comfort person." Her face scrunches up. "What?" "My comfort person, Like, you're the person that makes me feel better no matter what. No matter how shitty things are. No matter how terrible the world seems. Sometimes I just look at you and I feel okay."
Her knees was brought up closely to her chest as she leaned against the coffee table in the station, facing her mum who watched her with a smile painted on her face. "Sweetie this place is-" "Did dad call you when I was in the hospital?" Kasey interrupted, wanting to keep everything brief before the bell rang as she knew the moment she return from a call she wouldn't be in the mood for her mum. "Oh, yes he did," her smile falls to a frown before shifting into a sympathetic smile, "but honey, I was just too busy with work. I hope you understand." Kasey nodded to herself. She nodded and she nodded and she nodded whilst her eyes stung with tears that she wouldn't allow fall. She sniffles, bringing her sleeve to her nose to wipe it before looking down and pressing her lips into a thin line before releasing a deep and heavy breath. "Yeah," she nods again, eyes shutting for a moment as she offers a fake smile, "yeah, course. It's just..." she hesitates for a second before continuing, "when TK got shot you dropped everything to be there for him. But when I nearly got murdered your work become too important to see your own daughter." She looks up, showing off her teary eyes. "I-I didn't even know if I was going to make it."
"It's like your raising a child with her," Shannon screamed, throwing her arm out in aggravation, "and not with me who is Christopher's mother!" The house was silent, deathly silent, it was so silent that Eddie could hear the branches of the tree outside the window tapping against the glass, reminding him he had to cut down some of the branches. "You were never there Shannon," Eddie replies calmly, looking at her with his arms folded against his chest. "You was never there...and Kasey...she's...she's my best friend who's helped so much since I joined the 118." Shannon scoffed. "Friends," she shook her head, "yeah, sure, we'll go with friends." She gives a small firm nod. "I don't think we're going to be able to go to that reservation tonight Eddie." "Neither do I."
Mistake: So I got years mixed up, Lonestar Season 1 was meant to be in 2020 not in 2018/19 - but for the sake of this fic Season 1 is involved with 2019 but I will find a way to link it all back up XD
A/N: Remember I love to hear any ideas you would like to see happen here and I'll see what I can do for example we'll be seeing TK again around the Tsunami episodes.
A/N 2: Gifs are not mine all credits go to the creators.
Masterlist//Agape Masterlist
16 notes
·
View notes
Text
𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘢 𝘑𝘦𝘳𝘬 || 𝘗𝘪𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘰 𝘔𝘢𝘹𝘪𝘮𝘰𝘧𝘧, 𝘛𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘦𝘳
Soon on Wattpad~
"Do you have one of the Parasites like your dad used to have?" asked Mrs. Chen the girl who paid for the snacks, eyes wide she shook her head in disagreement before stepping out of the store
PARASITE?!
"it's not my fault, dad used to call you that man just don't kill her she can give us a lot of free food you know and you can have extra brains when they always rob her poor store?" "Fine, we'll let it slide" "what do you wanna do?" "We can do whatever WE want" chuckling slightly she nodded making her way upstairs to the rooftop, sitting at the edge with venom beside her they both ate the Pack of chocolate in silence, sure, she was terrified finding out about a symbiote living inside her body just like her father after protecting herself from some scientist, but for these past years she got used to it and they were more like best friends and if something happened to Venom it's like happening to her.
𝙁𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠-
Making her way toward the bathroom, attempting to hide from those Men but a voice inside her head made her scream in fear, hiding inside one of the stalls she stared into nothing but emptiness staying quiet as if a serial killer was following her, shaking in fear she tried not to sob out loud by putting her hand on her mouth a drop of a tear falling to the ground as the 10-year-old girl cried in silence with her hands still shaking, the sound of the bathroom stalls being slammed open made her heart stop beating as she started praying for her life, she was going to die that's for sure.
The next thing she knew was the lock breaking and her being pulled harshly by 2 men, screaming in fear she tried biting their hands off but the guns aimed in her head was worse, in a blink of an eye black tentacles came out of her arms and stabbed both of them in the heart, a pool of blood surrounded her as she watched in fear at what she has just done, she just killed two men trying to kidnap her, blood on her white shoes and arms as she tried to open the door and make her way out of this hell hole, but it was the same thing instead this time a group pointed their guns at her as she looked around in search of a place to run away, giving up she sat on the ground putting her hands in the air as told letting the 'police' handcuff her, she's just a 10-year-old girl what possibly could she do?
"mom! please I am begging you to tell them to let me go, we were supposed to be having a girls' night! I promise I didn't kill those men something came out of my arm and-" she couldn't finish her words, Tears welled from deep inside and coursed down her cheeks as she begged her mother for help with a high pitched voice, Anne on the other side stared at her with a guilty look before shaking her head, staring at her in disbelieve she was brutally pulled by the handcuffs away giving her mother one last look.
Did she stay in an Asylum for 8 years without seeing her 'mother' and outside? yes sadly she did, did she get out of the asylum once? no, she never did and that was driving her crazy she was the only one in here and everyone was afraid of her, this place wasn't like any other asylum they brought people with superpowers here, like Eleven from stranger things except Mery didn't have Telekinesis she had Venom.
Sitting in the chair defeatless with an emotionless look on her face, her hands tied to the table, as always, she stared at Anne straight in her eyes "Mery-" "hey doctor, can you please open these handcuffs and let me go back to my room before I do something?" she finally said looking straight into the camera about to transform into the big giant monster when a syringe was on her neck preventing her from doing so, 'how dare she says my nickname' she thought looking straight into her eyes after 8 years of not seeing each other how would you feel and how can she still manage to say her nickname, especially when your own mother is the reason you're looked in here "I Hate you and you don't deserve to be called a mother!" she yelled out struggling from their grip, black tentacles came out of her back as she grabbed every single scientist killing them with no mercy, "Venom, let's get the hell out of here" her voice deadly as she spoke "Copy, you're the boss" just as Anne described she looked just like her father, huge teeth, white eyes, and a long tongue.
𝙀𝙣𝙙 𝙤𝙛 𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙨𝙝𝙗𝙖𝙘𝙠-
"Don't open that door"
"Bitch, Don't order me to do something because you will die waiting?" she said with the usual level of sarcasm before taking off her apron making her way toward the door, what was shitty about this house was it didn't have a peephole, rolling her eyes she opened the door staring at the group in front of her "May I help you?" asked the girl in confusion to why the Avengers are in front of her apartment with a raised eyebrow the Black haired girl was about to close the door when black widow finally said a word after 10 seconds of silence "we need to talk to you?" "Listen, I don't have time to deal with superhero shit I've had enough" "please?" sighing she pushed the door fully letting them in sitting on the couch in front of them with her legs crossed "what?" "Can you introduce us to who you were talking to?" asked Captain America looking at her, raising her eyebrows once again, it was a habit sometimes she bites her nails "were you listening to us the whole time?" "no-" "Jesus, y'all are so famous and busy with superhero shit to the point where you don't understand a joke, Venom can you come out please?" annoyed, a black face appeared beside hers, that was the Parasite living inside her body?
"don't touch it, everyone this is Venom my best buddy and a parasite living inside my body, Her favorite food is brains and chocolate and we both kill robbers every day" putting a fake smile on her face she could see the look on their eyes, Bruce wanting to touch it so badly but stopped when Meryam sent him a look of disagreement, "alright this it, you guys can go, it was lovely meeting you, y'all are awesome superheroes and bye-bye!" "would you like to come with us we need your help, please?" asked Thor holding his hammer, glancing at Venom they both nodded at the same time, they were partners in crime anyways.
"We will but I'm coming alone, see ya at the Tower!" smiling she slammed the door shut
"Can you imagine Thor the god of thunder asking me to come with them, that is awesome right?" "not as awesome as us" nodding with a grin she grabbed her pocket knife charging the gun just in case tying her hair into a bun, putting on the mask Meryam grabbed the bag making her way out of the room.
"Hey miss Chen came to have some supplies?" stated the girl making her way toward the snack session she was probably the only customer here, the threatening sound of another robber echoed around the store as he pointed his gun at the poor woman, "That guy?" "yes bestie, free food for you tonight?" she said making her way toward the man, grabbing his wrist she punched him straight in the jaw, "Mask!" in a blink of an eye the same monster Mrs. Chen saw a long time ago was in front of her expect it was a woman, and that woman was Eddie Brock's daughter, Biting his head off she paid for the snacks before making her way out "night, thanks for the free snack!"
(venom ate the man, duh)
"This walk is boring!" "I know but we're almost there don't worry" "I Miss the Loser" "yeah, same he was the best dad" "and best Host, you both are the best" "aw thanks Venom you're the best too" a soft smile rose on her lips, The world was a better place when she smiled to Venom and he promised to Eddie he would keep her safe, thank god, she had her earphones on so people wouldn't call her crazy for talking by herself, "Jesus how many floors in this Tower?" "93"
"Excuse me is Tony Stark here, he said I can meet him here?" politely asking the blonde woman who was holding a little girl in her hand she took off her mask not to scare her, they didn't seem to recognize her right? "She's probably his wife" the voice of the symbiote echoed around her head as she nodded, "oh yes you must be Meryam, you seem kinda Familiar?" the blonde woman asked her, her heart stopped beating as soon as she said the last words, "o-oh really, who?" "oh never mind, you're so pretty by the way, I should probably go take Morgan to sleep Tony is having a meeting with the rest and they're waiting for you" "Yeah thank you?" "Pepper call me Pepper dear" nodding she waved at the little girl who had a cute smile on her face before making her way to where Pepper pointed
"Hey Old man, you wanted to meet us?" the same sound they heard 30 minutes ago echoed around the room earning their attention, chuckling at how startled they looked Meryam tried to hold her laugh while Venom was grinning evilly on the other side, "Ahh miss Brock come in" "it's Meryam, Anthony" okay that surely got him annoyed she could see how he rolled his eyes, sitting down on one of the chairs she looked around greeting the rest with a straight look.
"Tell us more about yourself?" not wanting to tell them her whole story, she shook her head with an emotionless look on her face "there's nothing more to know about me, I lived 13 years alone that's it, my life is useless anyways I only have Venom and kill robbers nothing more interesting?" one thing they learned about her was how fast she changed her emotions, 5 seconds ago she was trying not to laugh and now a deadpan look on her face. Pietro didn't trust her, not even a single bit and that was why a glare was attached to his stupid face
"So Meryam we're going to be on a mission for these past days and since you have nothing to do, you're going to catch the robbers around the city and take Morgan to school" tearing her gaze away from Pietro who was still glaring she blinked slightly trying to process what he just said, "excuse me, am I getting paid for that?" "yes" "fine, I'll do it, and will you stop glaring at me like I am some target?" her Black eyes met his as she spoke with gritted teeth's, anger rushing through her body Wanda slapping his shoulder before apologizing to her "I am so sorry Meryam-" "it's alright Wanda don't apologize in his place, he just needs to stop and do it all by himself if he's a true man, good night everyone" with that she made her way out of the place trying to calm her nerves down
Anger Issues
"Ohh she got you good" Teased Sam the twin who was still fuming in anger, rage thrummed through his veins as he swallowed down his frustration sending him a harsh look, "shut up birdy" with that he was out of sight just before Clint could say something
"oh these two are not going to be friends or work together, it's probably something worse"
#pietro maximoff x reader#Avengers#Marvel#sam and bucky#steve rogers#tony stark#iron man#Venom#eddie brock#pietro fanfiction#pietro maximoff#fanfic#black widow#Thor#Loki#Peter parker#Trailer#coming soon#venom fic#enemies to lovers#angst#romance#fluff#a little smutty#soon on wattpad#avengers : age of ultron#wanda maximoff#natasha romanoff#tom hardy#hulk
104 notes
·
View notes
Text
Out For Blood
Gif credit @afacelesschampion
Requested on wattpad.
Sorry I've been absent, it's been a crazy month. But hopefully I'm back, if the inspiration keeps up. Havent had much lately. So we'll see. Thanks for sticking around.
Taglist @nocturnalherb16. @jesseswartzwelder. @leaalfred. @twistnet. @baylishh. @believinghurts. @ilovetaquitosmmmm. @mayans-mc @mypridefulsoul27.
WARNING: Kidnapping. Children abandonment. Murder. Blood. Assault on women. Killing. Hostage situation.
It was your normal routine, taking the kids to the market and getting fruits and vegetables for dinner. But something was different. You could smell it in the air.
Looking over your shoulder you saw two men looking at you. They weren't regulars around there and they weren't Miguel's people. They two were watching you.
"Alberto"? You called over to your security guard.
"Yes, Señora Galindo".
"Can you take our stuff to the car and get one of the others to get the kids? Cristobal is tired". You tell him and he nodded. Grabbing the bags.
You held onto Melya, your two year old daughter and held Cristobals held as you walked along. The two men followed you. You knew not to panic or show fear. But deep down inside you knew you had to protect your kids.
Hurrying along you went to go to the car since your men havent showed up but as you got to the car there they were, laying dead on the ground their throats slit.
You cover your sons eyes with your hand and turned to run back into he market but you bumped into one of the men following you.
"Cual es la prisa"? The toothless man asked you with a snicker.
"Please. Dont hurt my babies. Please. I'll go with you just dont hurt them". You begged, tear falling down your face.
He nodded to another man that was behind you. You kissed both Cristobal and Melyas head and told them you loved them very much and sat them in the car. It was a beautiful day the sun was shining and the wind blew a cool breeze.
"We wont hurt them. We came for you anyways". The toothless man spoke as you turned around.
"Can you call their father? Just for him to get them, please? I dont want them out here all alone. They're so little". You sobbed into your hands.
"Don't worry. He knows". The toothless man grabbed your upper arm, you let out a yelp. He dragged you away. You looked upon the kids as you walked. They were fine. Not crying. Just sitting in the back seat playing with they're toys. It killed you to know that this was the last time you would ever see them.
Miguel fault through the crowd of the market. Someone left him a letter to come to the market or else. He didnt take threats to kindly.
He didnt see his wife or kids. Nestor made all his men scatter out and find you. But the only thing they found was the kids sleeping in the back seat.
"Mickey"? Nestor called over the walkie talkie. Miguel's heart dropped as he ran. Nestor held Melya in his arms when Miguel got to the car.
"Where's Y/N"? Miguel grabbed up his son and daughter. Hugging them tightly.
"No sign. My men are checking". Nestor walked away, talking on the walkie talkie.
"My babies". Miguel kissed their faces.
"Where's momma"? Cristobal asked with a yawn.
"She's still shopping". Miguel put on a fake smile.
"What about the man? Is he still shopping"?
"Man? What man, Cristobal"?
"He was mean to mommy. No teeth. Rrr".
Miguel didn't know what to say. His mind was with you and all he could think about was getting you out before it was to late.
"Sir"? A young boy came over to Miguel and tapped on his shoulder. "I was told to give this to you". And the boy ran off.
Miguel opened the paper and it read "ten million or she dies". Along with a address.
"I'm going alone". Miguel picked up the kids and headed to the SUV.
"You can't. I'm going with you. It's to dangerous". Nestor followed.
"Take the kids home and watch them. Dont take your eyes off of them, Nestor". Miguel kissed their heads and buckled them up.
"Here, at least take this". Nestor handed Miguel a pistol. "It's small, discreet. Maybe they wont find it".
"Thanks. Watch over my kids". Miguel ordered Nestor as he walked away. Going back through the crowd to his car.
Nestor looked at the address and knew exactly where it was. He wasn't going to let Miguel get himself killed. So he told his men to watch over the kids. He had something to do.
Miguel pulled up to an empty house. It was falling apart, there were no windows or even a front door. But outside in the drive way was a nice brand new SUV with thirty day tags.
"Hold it". A older man came out of the house carrying a machine gun, pointed right at Miguel.
"Where's my wife"?
The man didnt say anything he patted down Miguel and pushed him along the drive way to the front door. Looking around making sure no one followed.
Miguel could hear talking and laughing. Music playing in the back ground.
"Jefe". The older man called out as he walked into the room. There wasnt a kitchen or livingroom. Just a big open space.
"Where's my money"? The toothless man came over. Cristobal was right, he was a monster.
"Where's my wife first"? Miguel gulped, but kept his cool.
"She's right there. Didn't you see her? She goes great with the floor". The toothless man stepped aside and Miguel couldnt keep his composure.
You were laying on the floor lifeless. Your face was unrecognizable. They had beaten you so badly that your eyes had swelled shut.
"Hijo de puta". Miguel went to lunge at the man in front of him but he was stopped by a gun to his head from a man behind him, that, he didn't notice before.
The toothless man clicked his tongue. "You should show some respect. Do you know who I am, pendejo"? He walked closer to your body.
"A fucking coward. Beating on women. My fucking wife". Miguel snapped.
"I'm the son of Jorge García. The man you murdered and my mother". The son of Jorge García took out his gun and placed it against your temple. Grabbing a fist full of hair and pulling you up. You let out a whimper but had no more fight left in you.
"Your father was a soplón, a rat. He deserved everything he got. Now your mother, she begged forgiveness and I was going to let her live but she decided to kill one of my men so I had to kill her. It was business". Miguel spoke outraged and heartbroken. He tried to hide his tears.
"Oh look, my father's killer has feelings for this puta. Where was that for my mother"? García jabbed the guns barrel harder into your temple.
"What do you want? Me to apologize for killing your parents? Fine I apologize. Now please let my wife go. We have two beautiful kids and they need their mother". Migue pleaded.
"Then they'll know how I felt my entire life. Living without my parents. But you, you'll live with the guilt of knowing you couldn't save your wife. You got her killed for your life choices, remember that". García laughed with a smirk as he pulled the trigger. With one quick move you were gone. Your body hit the ground with a thud and you blood splattered onto the wall, floor and Miguel.
Miguel screamed, dropping to his knees crawling to your body, tears were a flowing waterfall down his face. His face heated with anger.
He scooped up your head and placed it gently in his hands. "I'm so sorry, Mi Amor. I'm sorry. I couldn't save you. Please forgive me". Miguel kissed your cold lips.
"Where's my money"?
Miguel lifted his head slowly, with a sniffle. "It's in the trunk of my car". Miguel looked back down at your face. His hand slowly inching it's way to his boot, taking the small pistol in his hand. With one quick jerk he shot García in the leg. The man with the machine gun came running up and went to shoot but he was quickly taken out along with the other men in the room. Nestor, walked into the room, his gun drawn.
"Mickey". Nestor ran over to Miguel.
"Bring him to me". Miguel didnt look up as he gave orders to go get García who limped off during the gunfire.
Nestor took off and found his prey laying on the back steps, breathing heavy.
"Get up". Nestor, grabbed Garcías hair and dragged him in side. Miguel was waiting. He had taken off his dress shirt and placed it under his wife's head.
Nestor pushed García in front of Miguel.
"Tell your parents I said fuck you". Miguel shot García in the head right between the eyes.
"What do you want me to do about the bodies"? Nestor asked.
"Burn it all down". Miguel said emotionless. He handed Nestor the gun and went to his wife. Gently picking her up and carrying her out of the room. Placing her in the back seat of his car.
Nestor grabbed the gas cans that laid outside and poured it over the bodies and struck a match. The bodies were engulfed in flames soon the whole building was.
Miguel didn't want her to burn with her killer. She deserved better than that a proper burial. So his kids can have closer and he can have somewhere to come and talk with her about life.
#miguel galindo#miguel galindo fanfic#miguel galindo imagine#miguel galindo x reader#mayans imagine#mayans mc imagine#mayans fanfic#mayans fanfiction#nestor oceteva#happys-crazy-queen22
112 notes
·
View notes
Last Seen Blogs
notmyfries
Take It Lightly
frikcinusername
Без названия
bella-bash
Love Yourself First
eueroz-blog
Sem título
mastaramguru
Hindi Sex Story