#i edited most of my portraits today and this one made me laugh sorry
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let's take ibuprofen together 🥰
#akjsdhf#ffxiv#i edited most of my portraits today and this one made me laugh sorry#sorry there are two of them but the size is apparently too narrow for a post
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Intellectual Stimulation
This is a follow-up to my first Mike fic (My Best Mistake), which was a huge flop 🙈 but I hope you like the second part better...if so, please leave me a comment, reblog or like 💜 You can read this without knowing part 1 though!
Pairing: Mike x y/n
Summary: Mike wants to impress his girlfriend by being a little more sophisticated
Words: ~ 1.8 k
Warnings: NSFW, 18+, smut, unprotected sex, dry humping, vaginal sex, creampie, creampie eating
NO BETA! English is not my mother tongue, so expect bad grammar, wrong spelling, chaotic punctuation and clumsy language. All mistakes are mine…
Credits: I don’t own anything related to Hellraiser: Hellworld! A huge thank you to @nix-akimbo for the edit of Mike with glasses. I loved using it for the moodboard, the other pics are from pinterest. I don't know who invented Professor Cavill, but credits to you too because I briefly mention him in this story. I quote parts of "The Picture Of Dorian Gray" by Oscar Wilde.
You can find my other fics on my masterlist.
Taglist (please let me know if you want to be added or removed)
@lunedelorient @inlovewithhisblueeyes @willkatfanfromasia @hell1129-blog @mis-lil-red @agniavateira @kebabgirl67 @omgkatinka @legendarywizarddetective @summersong69 @taebfada @xxxkatxo @artandotherdelights @notabronte @littlefreya @luclittlepond @eldarwen333 @meowpurrbooks @marantha @liliumdream @enchantedbytomandhenry @greensleeves888 @witcherfan @margauxmargaux07 @radaofrivia @m07belzen @a-little-counter-esperanto @starstruckkittyangel @mary-ann84 @sillyrabbit81 @emelinelovesjc @wheretheriversrunintothesea @lam0ureuxq
Off we go...
*********
Premise: Mike and his girlfriend have been together for a few months now and everything could be perfect if there wasn't that one little problem called Professor Cavill. He's y/n's lecturer in English literature and she talks about that boomer with the good looks and the tweed jackets and the dad jeans way too often. Plus Mike has seen the way the old debaucher looks at y/n when they meet him on campus. So in short, Mike is annoyed with the guy who seems to be some kind of intellectual superman, especially because he can't keep up with him. Not a bit. When he met y/n for the first time he impressed her by reciting a poem but unfortunately it is the only poem he knows. He isn't sophisticated and although y/n keeps telling him she doesn't care he feels bad and decides to do something about it.
I take a look around the room one last time and yes, everything looks perfect. It's clean and tidy, I made the beds with fresh sheets, I placed some very pretty flowers on my desk and most importantly, I bought a huge box of vintage books plus a special item at a rummage sale. The books are strategically placed in the room in little piles - beside the bed, on the shelf, on the little table beside my sofa and on the floor in the corner of the room. The special item is sitting on my nose and I really hope y/n is not going to burst laughing when she sees me.
Where is she anyway? Late of course, as usual. I take one of the books and open it to read the first pages again. I want to be prepared in the best way possible. The book is old and the cover looks strange but cool. Antiquated of course but still somehow modern with the half-rotten scull and the snobby looking guy printed in black and gold on it. Very avant-garde, Professor Dickhead would say I guess, artsy-fartsy I say.
When I hear the key in the front door I take a deep breath to calm my nerves and turn around with a big smile.
"I'm sorry, I know I'm late. I missed my bus." She returns my smile, hardly looking at me because she has problems with removing her key from the lock. "You really have to change the lock, baby. One day my key will break off."
"Sure. First thing tomorrow, sweet cheeks."
She looks at me, surprised by the enthusiasm in my voice and now, on second sight, she sees it.
"Mike! Oh my god…", she says, covering her mouth with her hands, "what the fuck? You look great!"
"You like it?" I give her a smirk and step closer to greet her with a soft kiss on her pretty lips.
"I love it! But why? I mean...you don't need glasses. I'm confused." She laughs light-heartedly and I grin. "It's just clear glass. I thought you might like me looking a little more sophisticated." I wiggle my head with a grin and she smiles, cupping my face with her hands. "I love you just the way you are, but I have to admit the glasses are damn sexy on you." She gets on her toes to kiss me and I hug her tightly.
"So what are we up to tonight? You said you have special plans for us?"
"Just take a look around, I'm sure you can figure it out." I plop down on the sofa and look at her expectantly.
"Umm...well. You tidied up your mess…"
"Yep. But there's more."
"Fresh sheets...wait...the books. You don't have so many books," she giggles before taking a closer look at one of the piles. "Out of Africa?" She raises her eyebrows and I grin.
"Some are for the heart, some are for the brain." I grab the artsy book and show it to her.
"Ooh...I adore Oscar Wilde. The Picture of Dorian Gray is my favorite!"
"I know, you mentioned it when you were talking about Professor Know-it-all's class the other day."
She rolls her eyes and it looks fucking cute. No, wait, it looks absolutely enchanting! I should adapt my vocabulary to my new look.
"Is this about Professor Cavill? Are you still jealous?"
"I'm not a bit jealous but I thought it wouldn't hurt to broaden my horizon by reading some classics and if you want to, we could read some stuff to each other and talk about it? Like our own private book club. What do you think, babe?"
"That's a great idea. Count me in." She kisses me again before cocking her head, looking at me with a smirk. "Fuck, these glasses really suit you, baby. You look so hot..."
"Please, Miss. Show me a little respect. I want to be desired for my keen intellect, not for my extraordinary good looks", I joke with an exaggerated frown.
"Idiot!" Y/n laughs out loud and nudges me playfully, "so you're all brains today, huh? Then bring it on. Read to me like one of your french girls." She plops down beside me and I snicker at her Titanic reference. I love the movie -don't you dare tell anyone-, and she hates it because she finds it boring but she still watches it with me whenever I'm in the mood for it. Okay….she usually falls asleep with her head in my lap after 15 minutes but it's the thought that counts and in return I do some cultural stuff with her, exhibitions and such. We went to a vernissage last week and to a reading in a bookstore the other day. So, you see... it's high time for some intellectual stimulation.
"Of course. Let's see what we've got here", I splay my fingers in an affected manner and grab the frame of my glasses with my thumb and middle finger to adjust them before I clear my throat and start to read, putting an extra dark timbre into my voice.
"The studio was filled with the rich odour of roses, and when the light summer wind stirred amidst the trees of the garden, there came through the open door the heavy scent of the lilac, or the more delicate perfume of the pink-flowering thorn."
I look up from the book to see that y/n obviously likes my reading voice. She seems captivated and I like the way she gazes at me so adoringly. "Go on", she says softly and I continue.
"From the corner of the divan of Persian saddle-bags on which he was lying, smoking, as was his custom, innumerable cigarettes, Lord Henry Wotton could just catch the gleam of the honey-sweet and honey-coloured blossoms of a laburnum, whose tremulous branches seemed hardly able to bear the burden of a beauty so flamelike as theirs;"
I read the first few pages and I start to like both, the book and the growing erotic tension between me and y/n. She moves closer to me with every paragraph. After I turn the pages for the first time I feel her hand on my thigh, after I do it for the second time she starts to stroke me through my jeans and I sigh before I concentrate on the poetic words again. While Lord Henry and Basil Hallward talk about bane and boon of extraordinary talent, brains and beauty, I get hard under her touch. I stop reading to kiss her but she shakes her head and nods at the book. "No. Go on, Mike. Read." Her voice is thick with desire now and it turns me on even more but I give her what she wants.
"“Harry,”said Basil Hallward, looking him straight in the face, “every portrait that is painted with feeling is a portrait of the artist, not of the sitter. The sitter is merely the accident, the occasion. It is not he who is revealed by the painter; it is rather the painter who, on the coloured canvas, reveals himself."
I moan when y/n decides to straddle my lap. She hitches up her boho style maxi skirt before she sits down and all that's between my hard-on and her sweet pussy now is the delicate lace of her panties and the thick fabric of my jeans. The sexy crochet bralette top she wears is not really helpful. Just Oscar Wilde separates me from her spectacular breasts right now. I'm about to put the book aside but she stops me again. "Keep reading." She rubs herself over my boner and looks me in the eyes with a teasing smile. I think this is a promising start to whatever is going to follow and so I go on and on. She's dry humping me now with slow motions, rolling her hips, riding me with closed eyes. I moan again, I'm so turned on I can hardly speak anymore but I try my very best to keep my girl entertained.
"I turned half-way round and saw Dorian Gray for the first time. When our eyes met, I felt that I was growing pale. A curious sensation of terror came over me. I knew that I had come face to face with someone whose mere personality was so fascinating that, if I allowed it to do so, it would absorb my whole nature, my whole soul, my very art itself."
And that's it. That's the moment of escalation. We are no longer able to control ourselves and y/n takes the book from my hands and throws it away carelessly before she starts to kiss me with a passion I've never tasted on her tongue before. While we make out like love-crazed predators she opens my belt and my fly and she lifts her butt to allow me to get rid of my pants and boxers. She takes off her top and I push her panties aside, feeling how wet she already is. Wet and eager to take my cock. She sinks down onto my dick slowly and the feeling of stretching her tight pussy is as sensational as ever. I grab her ass and knead her juicy cheeks while kissing and sucking her boobs and her hard nipples. I know how much it turns her on when I bite those little rosy buds and caress her breasts, one time she even came when I took real good care of her tits while she was jerking me off.
But today she rides me and I thrust into her hot core with strong movements, rocking my pelvis rhythmically, and we kiss passionately while my hands roam all over her body. I can tell she's about to come by her breath that's going fast and by the naughty little things she whispers hoarsely into my ear. "Yes, babe...fuck me hard, fuck me rough," and "deeper, Mike, I need your dick deeper" or "I'm so close. Can you feel how close I am?" When she stops moving because she cums with a long, drawn sigh, her body trembling, her cunt clenching around my dick, I hug her tightly, pressing her down, forcing her to take even more of me and after a few fast thrusts I cum too, filling her up with my seed and I can't wait to see it drip from her pussy.
I know it sounds a bit pervy but I love to see the mess I've made and to taste our mixed juices on my tongue. She climbs down from my lap and lays down beside me with spread legs and I bend down to lick her dripping cunt clean, lapping everything up with slow, sensual licks while y/n plays with my dark curls, enjoying the sensation of my tongue between her legs.
When we are lying in my bed cuddled up at each other a few minutes later y/n kisses me tenderly. "I'll need you to read to me like this every day now." I smirk and wink at her. "With the glasses?"
"With the glasses", she giggles and her soft laughter sounds the bell for the next chapter of our intellectual stimulation.
#henry cavill#cavillry#henry cavill fandom#henry cavill fanfiction#mike hellraiser x ofc#mike hellraiser#hellraiser: hellworld#mikey hellraiser#smut#mike hellraiser smut
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Stressful streaming [Corpse x reader]
Paring: Corpse husband x Female!reader
Summary: “What if y/n isnt a good gamer (they do something else on yt and never really got into it) so they just really suck at being the imposter? And everyone is trying to make them feel better but they feel super crappy about ruining the game for everyone- especially when they get paired up with corpse?” Requested by anon
“can I request something where y/n and corpse are dating, she is the group's baby and everytime she kills everyone's like 'yeah, that's cute bUT YOUR BOYFRIEND THO'.” Requested by anon
Warnings: Idk, this took a complete 180 midway through, and even idk what’s going on anymore. Fluff? Comfort? Cuddles???
Words: 2k
A/N: Open for requests. And a two for one, you know me at this point.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
The two of you had been living together for quite a while now. And you had been public about your relationship for a long time, had it been up to either of you, nobody still wouldn’t know. But it’s definitely better on both of your nerves not having to tiptoe around each other when you recorded, or he streamed.
You really enjoy books, so that’s what you naturally made the topic of your YouTube channel, book reviews. You had always recorded yourself reading and made it into a time-lapse after, it was when easier now that you didn’t have to worry if Corpse said anything and you looked up to answer him. You weren’t really into gaming so it surprised you a lot when Corpse had sat you down yesterday and asked if you wanted join them in the game today. The other had been bugging him to get you on call for longer than just saying a quick hi and then leaving him again. You weren’t much of a people person, honestly neither of you were. But Corpse was still better at interacting with others. Both of your setups was already in the studio, due to you liking edit your videos when he streamed, so you could still be together. Despite you mostly reading whenever he streamed, because then there wasn’t a chance he accidentally got caught on your camera.
Your routines worked for each other, but this was new territory for you. Both being live and gaming. You were nervous. To put it out there you were straight up shaking of nerves. Sure you wouldn’t be live yourself, and it was just among us, you had seem him play it a million times, but it still scared you what if you said something stupid, or did something stupid. Then you wouldn’t be able to cut it out, everyone would know in an instant.
Corpse greet his stream, as you load up your game, you’re fiddling with the hem of his sweater, makes him feel like he’s closer than the short distance that’s between you, because right now he seemed like an ocean away.
He shows you how to join the call and you accidentally squeak in chock as someone yells into their microphone. You can feel Corpse moving beside you, as he tries his best not to laugh at you.
“Shut up.” You mumble, and lightly shoves his shoulder.
“Me?” A guy with an irish accent asks.
“No! Not you, I’m so sorry that wasn’t to you- Corpse stop laughing at me!” You cut your own sentence off. As he now is completely failing at keeping himself from laughing, inviting everyone and their mom to listen to his beautiful laugh. You sulk for a bit, before he composes himself.
“But you’re just so damn cute.” He pets the top of your head, and walks back to his own setup, where chat is going rocket speed. He tries to read a couple in passing, but he turns his attention back to you when you whine.
“I’m not a child!” you pout at him and sticks out your tongue. A smile right on your lips as he copies you. You just love this man with all of your heart.
“Never said you were.” He teases back, before he starts to greet the people in the call. You realise most of your nerves have disappeared, no longer shaking, you’re getting a bit excited to do this. You listen closely when corpse says the name of each of the people in the call. You only knew the names before joining, but not what voice that belonged to whom.
When you’re finally in the game, Corpse suggests you put on the white skin and a flower. Your reply?
You lean close to the microphone and goes. “No.” And picks the yellow skin with the plant hat, declaring you’re now a citrus fruit.
“Corpse, how in the world did you catch someone like her?” you think her name was Rae asked.
“I didn’t she caught me.” He admits, happily. “Still having trouble believing she chose me.”
Earning an awe from the rest of the call. Two lovebirds.
“Simp!” someone yells in the call, you’re not really sure who, in the sea of mixed noises. Earning a laugh from you.
Crewmate flash across your screen, and you didn’t totally mean to peak, but you saw the red flash from his pc. As the game starts up and your character isn’t moving you realise you don’t know what you’re doing. Corpse realises too when his character starts to circle yours and nothing happens.
“Babe you good there?” He looks over at you, as you’re pressing each key on your keyboard testing out what happens. He chuckles at the sight. “let me help you.” He gets up, and leans over you, as he shows you how to move. His own character standing still, as he helps you around the map and shows you how to do the tasks. You happily let him guide your hands, enjoying the warmth he radiates as he stands near you.
That’s when a warning flash over the screen. Emergency meeting. You think it said. A screen with a portrait of all of your characters comes up.
“Corpse you good there, you haven’t moved all game?” Felix asks.
“Oh, sorry, I was helping Y/N with how to play.” Corpse answers over your mic.
“Hey guys, how do I make my name red like Corpses?” you innocently ask, with a gleam in your eyes as you look up at Corpse knowing damn well why his name is red. He’s the bad guy.
Corpse furrows his eyebrows at you. Glaring at you, as the rest of the call is laughing, it doesn’t take long before his astronaut is floating across the screen ejected into outer space. He leans close to you, making sure to mute your microphone first.
“You sure you want to play like this kitten?” He whispers to you, you respond by smacking his shoulder, and once again telling him to shut up.
Corpse helps you through the rest of the game. He makes sure you’re good before walking back to his own chair and greets his chat, finally paying attention back to them. Another game starts and the two of you are imposters together. Corpse quickly goes over the rules of impostors, and it doesn’t take long before you have made your first kill, not noticing Sean was in Nav together with Rae. But before he’s able to report it,Corpse comes to your rescue by venting into the room and killing Sean. The relief is short lived as Felix comes running into Nav and see the two of you standing over Seans body, quickly reporting.
“Y/N you’re doing good, but you need to press the report button when it comes visible.” Felix starts out. “Also, it’s Corpse, there was a body in Nav, Sean. Wait Rae and Mark is dead too.” You smile to yourself as you realise he didn’t discover Raes body in there too, you feel a bit of pride.
Corpse looks over to you grinning at him. “We walked in together I was showing her where the report button is and how to use it.” Corpse defends himself. “She never found a body in the last game.”
“That’s true.” You choose to ignore he fact you’re lying to these strangers, and tell yourself that you’re technically speaking the truth. You never found a body in the last game.
“I’m sus of you Corpse, but we have no other evidence.” Felix says,
“And we shouldn’t vote on 7.” Toast comments. Everyone votes skip, and the two of you live to see another round.
The next kill is by Corpse, and you immediately report it, stating you found it in… what was that room now called?
“We found it in… that room?” You try and look over at Corpse for help.
“Electrical, headed there for wires.” Corpse quickly takes over to cover for you. Knowing full well the rest very much knows it’s the two of you.
“I think it’s a self-report, Y/N you’re trying out some big brain strats, but I saw you vent from med bay.” Toast tells the rest. You curse underneath your breath; you are starting to catch on the rest are trying to be nice. But you get it, you’re ruining the game for them, especially Corpse. A few seconds passes as everyone votes and your astronaut is sent into the vacuum of space. You sigh. You watch as Corpse, gets one kill before it gets reported.
“What was everyone’s last task?” Grease asks the group. He gets an array of answers, but all to him seems nowhere near the body.
“I’m still sus of you Corpse.” Felix says, “You either failed card swipe twice, or forgot you already faked it.”
“How could it have been me? I was with you the entire time.” Corpse responds.
“That’s not true, when lights went out I couldn’t find you, and we just split up before I found the body now.” Felix tells the other incriminating Corpse. It doesn’t take long before he gets voted off. He looks a bit annoyed at the outcome. Knowing it was a risky kill. But instead in your mind you take it as he’s annoyed you were his partner. You reach out for his hand, and he takes it, you stroke it a few times and he seems to calm down again.
“It’s been fun you guys, but I’m not really good at this, I think I’m going to get back to do some reading. It was fun though.” You announce to the rest, Corpse watching in confusion over the sudden need to leave. The others bid their goodbyes. You get off the discord call. And closes up the game and shuts off your pc.
“Hey chat, I’ll be right back, I’m taking a quick break before we continue.” Corpse mutes his setup and walks over to you. While doing that you’ve frustratedly put your head in your hands, and is onboard the blame train for ruining the game for the others. Corpse wraps his arms around you and brings you right back to reality and where you belong, in his embrace.
“Babe, are you okay? Do you need me to stop the stream?” He carefully asks.
“I’m sorry I ruined your game. I really tried my best, I promise.” You sigh, looking at him, and leaning into his hug and the warmth.
“You didn’t ruin anything, Y/N. You made it better, I had a fun time with you, even if we weren’t the best pair.” Corpse starts peppering you in kisses alround your face until you start giggling.
“There is my beautiful Y/N.” He smiles at you, he knows he’s so whipped, and he wouldn’t give it up for anything in the world when he sees that smile of yours.
“Thank you.” You mumble as you put your neck into his neck, cuddling up against him. “Can I stay for the rest of your stream?” He doesn’t need to answer, he just sits back down in his own chair, and you automatically and easily, swing a leg over him. You cuddle into his chest and listens as he starts talking to his chat again.
“Y/N says thanks for everything, but this is really out of her comfort zone, and I’m proud of her for having done it.” He praises you to the rest of the world. He looks down at you smiling. He mute his mic as he whisper to you. “You’re still my favourite impostor, kitten.” You giggle, and he turns his attention back to the game. Getting ready to be a crewmate.
#corpse husband#corpse#corpse husband x reader#corpse x reader#corpse husband fic#corpse husband fanfic#corpse fanfic#corpse husband x y/n#corpse husband fanfiction#delias own writing
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Fuchsia-Colored Sunglasses
Summary:
Your life is turned upside down when you’re transported into another reality by the enigmatic and mysterious old woman named Cyan. You find yourself an up-and-coming makeup artist whose latest client is the cocky fuchsia-haired rockstar Yuta Nakamoto. You struggle to find balance as Yuta is your most difficult client yet and you can’t seem to stop losing things in your apartment.
Meanwhile, Yuta is at the top of his game with his record-breaking band that’s about to tour and his perfect celebrity girlfriend. But he can’t shake the feeling that something is missing. When he meets you, however, he finally feels..at home.
In a reality where soulmates so rarely find each other, is it possible that the two of you will see the signs?
Pairing: Rockstar!Yuta x female reader
Genre: Soulmate AU, Fluff, comedy, a little smut, a tiny bit of angst
Word Count: 28.5K
Warnings: profanity, minor character death mention, alcohol mention
(A/N: we are so excited to finally post this for you guys!! It is for a collaborative project (A Colours AU) organized by the wonderful @neo-cult-ure . THANK YOU so much for inviting us to do this!! Please visit her tumblr for a complete list of all of the amazing works included in this project that we all worked so hard on❤️ with that being said, we hope you enjoy!! Thank you for supporting us!!)
[colours masterlist]: Click here to enjoy several amazing journeys :)
——————
It really hasn’t been your day. There was just one problem after the other being thrown at you at work. Books often went missing at the library, but today an entire section was missing romance novels and no one seemed to know where they had gone. So you spent hours collecting them from other sections in the library, placing them on your cart as you moved through each lane. It doesn’t sound like a lot of work but for a library with 16 floors, it was just enough to make your head spin. Your day was long and boring.
And now, you learned that your favorite cafe was fresh out of your usual drink, an iced caramel latte, the perfect drink for a pick me up.
fantastic.
A sigh left your lips as you turned around the corner of the bathroom and walked face first into someone.
smack!
You stumbled back and then felt something wet on your clothes. Great.
“I..I’m so sorry about that.” A lady’s voice caught you off guard as she quickly tried to clean up the situation. She reached forward and grabbed your hands. A bit weirded out by the situation, you tried to pull your hands away but she didn’t let go, pulling you in closer so she could look into your eyes and capture your full attention.
“Dear, don’t be frightened, my name is Cyan and I am so very sorry...” Her eyes had a mysterious glow about them that you couldn’t understand. She seemed...otherworldly.
“Let me make it up to you.” Cyan said. “Here, pick a colour and you’ll meet your soulmate. However, you should be aware that each colour represents a different reality, and you only have one chance to bring them back to this reality.”
“Really?” you asked, clearly suspicious of the entire situation.
“Yes, now which would you choose?” she asked as she held out the tablet for you to pick a colour. You tilted your head to the side before just agreeing.
You typically liked to lay low, keep things normal and safe for your sanity. And love? Soulmates? Those were concepts that you never really thought too hard about. If it comes, it comes but you weren’t going to go out of your way for it.
But today was unlike any other day, everything went wrong, so what if...you did things differently for once? What if you took the chance to experience something...new? You had nothing left to lose, right?
You reached forward to choose.
“Fuchsia.”
^_^
You sat at the kitchen table, your Bluetooth speaker playing your favorite song, “Breeze”. It was by the artist Mountain Man, whose identity was a mystery to the entire world. Your roommate Delilah came in to grab some orange juice from the fridge.
Delilah laughed. “I swear I dream of this song from all the times you play it.”
You replied, “This song is a religious experience. You should be so honored to dream of it.” You took a bite of your Fruity Pebbles.
Delilah joined you at the table as she searched something up on her laptop. “Today’s the bid for the Bulbasaur card I’ve had my eye on. I’m so nervous. I can’t go past eight five dollars so let’s hope my competition is just as cheap as I am.”
You rolled your eyes. “Eighty-five dollars for a trading card? Really?”
Deililah shook her head. “Sixty-five dollars for foundation, y/n? Really?”
You shut your mouth and keep eating your cereal. You and your roommate had your impulses...Well, your passions. Besides, an investment in good foundation only made sense given your profession as a makeup artist.
Delilah scrolled through her phone and frowned. “That’s weird. This looks just like your Hermosa Vida palette.”
That was impossible. You had the only one in existence. Last month, at the cosmetics brand launch for Hermosa Vida, you received a limited edition palette from two of your favorite makeup artists, Sol and Luna, who teamed up for their growing cosmetics empire. They gave you the limited edition trial of the palette before the official palette was released in stores. You were so excited to try it out but misplaced it two weeks ago. You knew you had to clean your room more often.
In fact, you’ve misplaced a lot of things recently: a pair of your favorite My Melody socks, a bracelet from your trip to Jamaica last summer, a pair of your reading glasses, and more. You knew people were bound to lose things but it seemed to happen more often to you. You didn’t think much of it as you were busy applying for your new job.
You stood behind Delilah so you could see the palette on sale for yourself. It was shaped like a clam shell and was rose gold. It even had Sol and Luna’s autographs on the bottom.
Just like yours.
You scanned the description of the product to find the username of the seller: 1026you.
“Wait, I thought I was the only one who owned this palette. It doesn’t make sense. If there was more than one of these palettes in existence, then there would be more on sale. But this one...looks exactly like mine,” you said.
“Maybe it’s a knockoff,” Delilah offered, “You know how people will fabricate anything to get extra cash.”
“The thing is...I lost my palette. It’s almost as if…”
Delilah scoffed. “You don’t think someone broke in and stole it?”
You considered it. “I don’t know, Delilah. I’ve been losing a lot of things lately...I think we should install some cameras in here. Just in case.”
Your roommate nodded. “Fine with me. It’ll make us both feel safer.”
So you and Delilah had cameras installed around the apartment. You hoped your first paycheck with your new gig would come in quickly. You contacted the seller and asked about the palette, asking where they’d bought it and how they had access to it. You asked so you could have some sort of proof that it couldn’t be the same as yours. But it looked exactly like yours. And it bothered you. Unfortunately, there was no response from the seller.
A few days after that, your Siamese cat Totoro disappeared. You weren’t too concerned as Totoro was an outdoor cat and he tended to wander. He would return soon, you thought.
^_^
Meanwhile across your hometown of Los Angeles, international rockstar Nakamoto Yuta stood in his bathroom, dumbfounded to find a portrait of a young woman looking over her shoulder.
Yuta said to himself. “Where the hell did this come from?”
His girlfriend Ashley called from the living room. “What’s that, babe?”
Yuta responded, “Nothing, Ash.” He’d rather not freak out his high-maintenance diva girlfriend.
It was strange how random objects kept popping up in his apartment. He asked Ashley about the palette but she denied it was hers. A bracelet appeared on his nightstand a few weeks ago and Ashley denied again, growing suspicious that Yuta was having someone over. But he didn’t owe any explanations to her.
Yuta always came up short with his security footage. There were glitches with the footage. The objects just...appeared from one frame to the next. This had to be some kind of joke.
Seeing a whole portrait pop up in his bathroom of all places was just part of his daily routine now. Guess I’ve got another thing I have to sell online, he thought.
Then again… He looked carefully at the painting. The woman in the painting was stunning. He wondered what her face looked like in reality. Gorgeous, he was sure of it. The woman wore an oval-shaped ruby necklace. The painting gave him both a sense of comfort and excitement. He couldn’t explain this clearly new but somehow familiar feeling. He decided to hold onto the painting for a while. He could always change his mind.
Ashley let out a blood-curdling scream. “Yuta! Get in here!” She sounded scared for her life. Could it have been the people who managed to break in and leave the painting among all of the other random objects? He ran into the living room to find Ashley standing on his plush couch.
“Is that...a cat?!” Ashley hissed as she looked down at a Siamese cat.
The cat watched her from the ground, swaying his tail back and forth. He simply watched her. When the cat saw Yuta, he walked up to him and rubbed himself against Yuta’s legs as he purred.
Yuta crouched down and pet the cat behind his ears. “Hey there, buddy. How did you get in here?”
“Yuta, you went and bought a cat when you know I’m allergic?” Ashley asked as she sneezed.
Yuta sighed. “I swear to you I have no idea how he got in here.” It was possible he ran in when Yuta opened the sliding glass door to his yard.
“Well...” Ashley sneezed as she grabbed her handbag and stormed out of the multimillion dollar mansion. “You better get rid of that thing if you ever want me to set foot into this house again!”
Ashley slammed the door and Yuta laughed as he sat down on the couch. The cat laid on his lap and pushed his head into Yuta’s hand so that he could pet him.. Yuta brushed his fingers through his fur.
“You know what, I think I’ll keep you.”
^_^
It was your first day of work with the world famous band Skylark. Sky High Entertainment reached out to you when they watched your most popular makeup tutorial. Now, you would be their makeup artist for their future engagements. Your first few weeks would be to assist the band in preparation for their first set of tour dates in Los Angeles for their Heaven on Earth World Tour. You were to meet the group and their team at the Staples Center. You weren’t too familiar with Skylar’s work because you were either fixated on the YouTube MUA community or repeatedly listening to Mountain Man’s music. You arrived early, too excited to start, and the band’s manager Baekhyun Byun told you that you were welcome to watch the group rehearse.
To say that the band was attractive was an understatement. You knew of their names and faces from the occasional Twitter posts. Plus, you had to memorize their names and faces for the job. However, seeing them in person was a whole other experience.
Drummer Johnny Suh’s muscular arms and intensity were reminiscent of Hercules as he twirled one of his drumsticks with ease. Mark Lee was the guitarist, looking like he was about to be cast for the next Spiderman with his sweet and goofy demeanor. He played a random guitar solo with his tongue out to get a reaction out of his cousin Johnny. Dong Sicheng was focused at the keyboard, looking as elegant and regal as a vampire prince. Bassist Jung Jaehyun’s every glance was more seductive than the last as he tuned his bass to perfection.
Last but not least was the frontman with the fuchsia colored mane: Yuta Nakamoto. His walk to the microphone at the center of the stage was unintentionally seductive, considering he was in a black hoodie and sweatpants like the rest of his band. He was at least six feet tall as his long strides made him walk with such grace and elegance. A man that was effortlessly gorgeous was definitely trouble. At this point, your jaw was on the ground. Every man on that stage was a god but Yuta was the frontman for a reason. He was undeniably the cutest of the group. In his all-black attire, he was the emo prince of millions of girl’s dreams: his slender face, his sharp cheekbones, his piercing brown eyes, a smile so bright it could make you go blind, his rockstar piercings which included a navel piercing and caused your thoughts to drift to places that weren’t suitable for the workplace…
From time to time, the band goofed off. Mark made a paper plane from the set list and threw it at Johnny. Jaehyun danced the latest TikTok dance while Sicheng filmed it with his phone. Yuta laughed as he borrowed the keyboard and wrote some notes down in his notebook.
When they got down to business, the boys completely transformed. They channeled angst and heartache when they began rehearsal. You recognized the song as their latest single: “Lost and Found”.
When Yuta sang, goosebumps ran down your back and your stomach twisted. Alarms were ringing in your head but they weren’t out of fear. But out of...excitement? You couldn’t describe this strange sensation.
Yuta transformed into a man who was heartbroken and confused. His voice danced into your ears and hearing it live made the lyrics more meaningful. Every word that left his plump lips lingered in the air. You couldn't get enough and felt your heart squeeze.
Yuta looked out to the audience as he always practiced how he would engage with the crowd. He earned several thumbs up from the staff, as expected. Then he turned to your section and could barely make you out as a silhouette in the darkness.
You saw that he focused on your section as he sang the second verse. Your heart skipped a beat. You’d have to listen to more of Skylark’s music from now on because they were fantastic. And maybe lurk on Yuta’s social media.
After rehearsal ended, Manager Byun introduced you to the rest of the team, including the other makeup artists. He walked you to the dressing room to introduce you to the band. For the first time in years, you were about to freak out like a fangirl.
“Boys, this is y/n. She’s our newest makeup artist. Please, I beg of you, don’t make her run for the hills.” Manager Byun laughed. You hoped he was joking.
The boys greeted you and shook your hand. Johnny was the most outgoing. “Pleasure to meet you, y/n!”
Jaehyun winked at you as he shook your hand. “Hi.”
Winwin gave you a childlike smile. “Thank you for joining us!”
Mark stuttered as he greeted you, “Uh, hi, it’s uh, really nice to meet you.” His cheeks were flushed.
You were overjoyed but knew you had to conceal your excitement. Still, you couldn’t help but hope for Yuta to greet you.
You all turned to Yuta who was busily texting away on his phone in front of his mirror.
Johnny cleared his throat. “Yuta, say hi to y/n.”
Then, you noticed he was wearing his AirPods. Johnny tapped him on the shoulder. Yuta looked up at him. “What? I was on the verge of a breakthrough, and now I won’t get it back. Thanks a lot.” Yuta rolled his eyes and looked back at his phone.
Johnny cleared his throat and you could see his smile twitch from his reflection in the mirror. “Say hi to y/n. She’s our new makeup artist,” Johnny said carefully. He sounded a lot less sweet, then.
Yuta sighed. “Fine.”
He got up from his makeup chair and walked up to you. His sour demeanor quickly shifted to bright and breezy. His megawatt smile appeared as he shook hands with you. “Hi, y/n. Pleasure to meet you.”
It was insincere and you knew it. You didn’t even bother faking a smile. “Pleasure’s all mine.”
It was the smile you’d seen all too often with celebrities and YouTubers whose egos grew faster than their subscriber count. It was the kind of smile they used to please sponsors and fans. A means to an end.
Yuta’s smile faded as quickly as it appeared. He quickly turned away and went back to his chair, put his AirPods in, and returned to his phone. You spoke too soon when you thought Yuta was your favorite member.
Mark whispered, “Don’t take it personally, y/n. Yuta is in his own little world most of the time.”
You weren’t surprised. Chances were one of these boys wasn’t what they seemed. You were disappointed it was Yuta, though.
For the most part, your first day went well. Everyone was warm and welcoming. You shared tips with the other makeup artists. But then, they dropped a bomb.
“You’re assigned to Yuta,” Manager Byun told you as you headed down the elevator. You just came back from a break.
You couldn’t control your initial facial expression.
Manager Byun laughed. “He won’t bite.”
You composed yourself. “Oh, I know…”
He understood. “He’s been working on a lot of projects. Some of which I don’t even know the full details of. So I apologize on his behalf for his rudeness.”
You shook your head. “But Manager Byun-”
He raised his hand. “Please, call me Baekhyun. Manager Byun makes me sound like I’m a father of three.”
You laughed. “Okay. Baekhyun, you don’t have to apologize for him. I get it. He’s a workaholic. I’ll gladly be his makeup artist.” It wasn’t like Yuta insulted you. He just wasn’t what you hoped he would be. Plus, you were there for a job and nothing else. So professionalism was always key.
Baekhyun put his hand on your shoulder. “Thank you, y/n. If he gives you trouble at all, the makeup team will make sure Yuta gets the wrong shade of foundation.”
You and the rest of the makeup team headed back to the dressing room where the boys were sitting in their chairs. They needed to get their makeup done for the filming of their tour diaries entry for this week. Yuta was still glued to technology. This time, he was on his laptop, and he was in the middle of producing a track, it seemed.
You gulped and tapped him on the shoulder.
“Excuse me, Mr. Naka-” You began.
“Yuta’s fine,” he barked back.
“I have to do your makeup,” you said as you started off with his primer.
“Fine,” he said as he closed his eyes, “Make it quick.”
His tone was even crabbier than this morning. You told yourself to keep it together. You wouldn’t let this diva jeopardize your job. He was a challenge and you would overcome this bastard.
Because Yuta was quiet and as still as a statue, doing his makeup wasn’t a problem. You made sure you were swift but neat. You didn’t want to poke the tiger again. All that was left was his eyeliner. You gave him an elegant winged eyeliner for his left eye. You were halfway done with his right eye when he interrupted.
His voice boomed. “Seriously, what part of ‘quick’ don’t you understand?”
He startled you so much that his liner shot straight up to the middle of his forehead.
You bit back your anger and your tears. You said calmly, “I was almost done, Yuta. If you hadn’t startled me for ten more seconds, I would’ve finished.”
Yuta looked in the mirror, his venomous tone matching the anger in his face. “You clearly lack experience if you let one thing I said get to you. Well? Don’t just stand there. Fix it.”
The rest of the staff and the band stood there, stunned to silence. You swallowed your pride and redid the liner on his right eye. He said nothing when you finished. He left the dressing room first.
You turned to everyone else, feeling humiliated and fearing what everyone would say. “Why is it so quiet?”
“Because you didn’t run for the hills,” Sicheng replied, smiling at you in admiration.
“Huh?” That wasn’t the reaction you’d expected.
Rin, your fellow makeup artist who was working on Jaehyun right beside you, said, “The last makeup artist Lily only lasted a week. Yuta’s been…”
“A stuck up bitch,” Jaehyun finished.
Rin sighed, “His words. Not mine. Before Lily, there was Halle. Halle was Yuta’s makeup artist for three years before she left for another project. Even before Halle left, Yuta was in a mood. No one knows what’s bothering him. He’s not usually-”
“A diva,” Mark added.
Rin applied some setting spray on Jaehyun’s face. “Once again, not my words.”
You worried if you crossed a line by talking back at him like you had. “Was I not supposed to say anything to him when he yelled?”
Everyone laughed. Johnny said, “Are you kidding? We dare you to tell him to stop bitching if he snaps again.”
You thought about it. “I just hope he gets over whatever he’s going through.”
^_^
Days passed and the sixth day of work went just about the same. You were in your element and over the moon with all of the high-end cosmetics at your disposal. Not even your sourpuss of a client could dampen your mood.
During one of your breaks, you sat alone in one of the unoccupied meeting rooms and listened to “Breeze” on your phone as you read some of your emails.
“The breeze made your hair sway. I fell in love that autumn day,” you sang aloud.
Yuta was headed to a meeting with Cartier but at the sound of your voice singing “Breeze”, he froze in his tracks. He pressed his ear against the door of the room you were in. The cracks in your voice were endearing. He smiled to himself.
He peaked through the window and hoped you didn’t notice him. You were seated at the table. Your legs were propped against one of the other swivel chairs. You tapped your fingers against the table. You smiled as you sang. Your smile was lovely. Your eyes were so full of joy and passion as you recited the lyrics, and for the first time, he actually looked at you and took in your features. Your singing voice wasn’t as calm and soothing as your speaking voice, but he still enjoyed hearing you. For the first time in a long time, he felt..something.
Seeing you smile that way made you the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen, he realized.
He couldn’t believe how much you loved his song. “Breeze” wasn’t doing as well as he hoped. The company CEO thought about scrapping his anonymous side project all together. He didn’t understand. Had he released the song with Skylark or under his own name would “Breeze” have charted better? It pissed him off. He was so proud of his composition. It was the first time he let himself be so raw and vulnerable. Because he wanted this project to be anonymous, he chose not to tell his bandmates or anyone else, really. The couple of staff members who did know were sworn to secrecy. It killed him that he couldn’t vent to anyone.
When the song ended, you said to yourself, “Oh, let’s just play this on a loop.” You played “Breeze” again and stretched your arms.
Seeing you love the song as much as he did made the dark cloud that loomed over his head fade a little. Perhaps he had been too harsh on you, he thought.
^_^
A few more days pass and you and Yuta seem to be getting closer. He’d actually put his phone down when you did his makeup, watching you as you patted his foundation in. For you, it was strange, but for Yuta he was mesmerized.
“I’m bored..let’s play 20 questions.” Yuta said as you spritzed his face with primer water one day.
“Uhhh..okay.” Your brows furrowed.
“Favorite movie, go.” Yuta asked before closing his eyes.
“Uhhh. Titanic?”
“Ew. Okay favorite group?” He smirked.
“Well..it’s not Skylark..” You huffed.
Yuta took in a sharp breath and held your wrist to stop you. “It’s NOT Skylark? Then who is it, who is worthy?” His eyes were intense, like you hurt him deeply.
“Hmmm...One Direction.” You were just messing with him, but you wanted to see his reaction.
He rolled his eyes and let go, leaning back in his chair and rolling his neck. “You can’t be serious...”
“What? They make good music! And isn't it my turn to ask questions now?”
“Shoot.” Yuta closed his eyes so you could do his eye shadow.
“Hmmm..what’s your favorite color?” You started.
“The color of your eyes...”
You froze for a moment, but then chuckled. “Yuta..seriously?”
Yuta’s eyes opened as he laughed. “I’m serious! They’re beautiful.”
You pouted. “I’m done playing this game if you’re gonna mess with me.”
“Are you going to ruin my eyeliner again because you don’t like my compliment?” He let out in a faux British accent and high pitched tone to mimic the queen. You couldn’t help but laugh and shake your head.
Yuta smiles widely when he hears your angelic laugh, your eyes crinkling and your cheeks becoming so round and full.
What was this new feeling that he had?
^_^
You’d be working with Skylark for a month now and you were enjoying your time with the team. However, it was pouring for the first time in a month in LA. While you would’ve been happy about it in any other circumstance, you were annoyed and on the verge of freaking out. Your second bus was running late to take you to the arena. You decided not to wait for the bus and make a run for it.
Your umbrella was helpful to a certain extent but you were drenched regardless. The rain continued to pour unforgivingly. When you were preparing to cross the street, a black Mercedes pulled up beside you. The passenger window came down and you recognized Yuta.
He was sitting there, looking amazing as usual. Only this time, his long, neon pink hair was thrown into a bun and he modeled a pair of heart-shaped, fuchsia colored sunglasses to match.
The way he held the wheel with one hand made your heart shudder for some reason.
“Get in!” He said.
You hesitated for a second. However, dryer clothes outweighed your pride at this moment. You hopped in, closed your umbrella, and shut the door.
Yuta grabbed your umbrella and put it in the backseat. “You’re soaked. I’m going to turn up the heat on your seat.”
“Thank you,” you mumbled.
Yuta drove you to work. He was surprised he could recognize you through the pouring rain. He had this inexplicable anxiety when he was at the red light before he saw you. He couldn’t explain it. He was doing okay for the most part. His last song for his first self-titled mini album was almost complete. Ashley was a pain but their respective managers were working towards a day when they could announce their breakup. His band was at the top of their game. His new cat was keeping Ashley away.
So what was this feeling that came out of nowhere?
And how did the feeling disappear just as quickly when you looked him in the eyes?
“Thanks for the ride,” you piped up.
Yuta cleared his throat, feeling shy all of a sudden. Very unlike him. “We’re both headed the same way.” That was Yuta’s attempt at sounding cool. He didn’t realize it could make him sound like a tool, you thought.
There was an awkward silence that suffocated you both. The traffic was unbearable so it looked like you would both be late for work.
Yuta blurted, “I don’t think I’ve said this before but...I’m sorry..”
You turned to him as he stared straight ahead. You were shocked that he was apologizing. You figured this man never apologized for anything, especially when he carried on with you at work like he hadn’t snapped at you on your first day. “Are you?”
He sighed as he slowed down. “Yes. I was a jerk and you were just doing your job. I really have no excuse.”
You replied, “Well, as long as you’re aware. Do you promise to keep the sass to a minimum? Or at least until after I’m done with your makeup?”
Yuta nodded. “Yes, I promise.”
You noted how down Yuta looked. Beneath the hostility and sarcasm, there was frustration and sadness. “I forgive you.”
Yuta smiled. “Thank you.”
Another awkward silence followed. And the rain poured down even harder so Yuta drove even slower. He turned up the radio and you both recognized “Breeze”.
You both sat back and listened to the song in silence. Without you realizing, Yuta snuck glances at you as you hummed and bobbed your head to the beat of the song.
“I love this song,” you blurted.
Yuta smirked. “Yeah, it’s great, isn’t it?”
“I would give anything to meet Mountain Man. His music is unlike anything I’ve ever heard. No one knows who he is. His identity is top secret,” you sulk.
Yuta beamed with pride that someone could be a fan of his mysterious persona. Without knowing his face or his true identity. It truly made him feel special.
Yuta bit back a laugh. “I know who he is, actually.” He wondered if he would regret telling you this.
You looked at him in shock. “What?”
“I can introduce him to you if you’d like but you have to promise me one thing.” Yuta was elated to see you so thrilled.
“Wait, really?!” You exclaimed as you unconsciously moved closer to him. “You’re not messing with me, are you?”
Yuta shook his head as he finally turned into the arena parking lot. “When we break for lunch, I’ll take you to him. I’ll call him over.”
You gaped. “Oh, you don’t have to. He must be so busy. He doesn’t have time to meet me. I-”
Yuta felt a flash of jealousy over your consideration for someone whose face you didn’t even know (even if it was his other persona). “He won’t mind, I promise. Now promise me one thing when I introduce you.”
“What is it?” You asked cautiously.
Yuta put his car in park. “Promise me you’re free tonight. I need to go over some looks for my concept photos next week. I know it’s after work but I’ll buy dinner.”
Yuta did a full 180 on his personality. You were still recovering from the whiplash. And now he was doing you favors and confiding in you? You were on the fence but if you could meet Mountain Man, surely it would be worth it.
^_^
When it was lunch time, Yuta took you to the conference room. “Take a seat, y/n. Mountain Man just texted me. I’ll bring him in.”
You sat down in your unofficial swivel chair and fought the urge to pick at your nails. You were so nervous. To be in the presence of such talent. To be in the presence of the man who touched your heart with a three minute and fifty five second song. You had no idea what to expect.
Yuta came back quickly. With no one. He looked at you expectantly.
You got up to check if anyone was behind Yuta. “Uh, Yuta?”
“Uh huh?” He asked.
“Where’s Mountain Man?” You frowned.
He threw his arms up. “You’re looking at him.”
You got up from your chair and wrapped your arms around your chest in frustration. “Come on.”
Yuta was shocked at your reaction. “You don’t believe me?”
You shook your head. How can such a high-profile celebrity be an anonymous artist?
Yuta rolled his eyes. “Wow, you’re really making a guy work here, aren’t you?”
“I don’t get it. Why wouldn’t you just release your music with Skylark or under your real name? Why the anonymity?” You asked as you went back to your chair and collected your belongings to leave.
“Wait, don’t go,” Yuta pleaded, “I can prove it.”
He offered his notebook to you with lyrics that dated back two years.
“This is your lyric book?” You asked.
Yuta nodded as you flipped through the pages. “Songs I’ve written for Skylark. Songs I’ve written for my solo mini. And songs I’ve written for Mountain Man.”
You sat down and carefully absorbed all of the contests inside. You went to the first pages of the notebook and found the early drafts of “Breeze”, which dated back to a year ago. And right after those lyrics, there were the lyrics for Skylark’s Grammy-nominated song, “Hope and Flame”.
You looked up at him. “You…”
“Yeah,” he said as he put his hands in his pockets. “If you’re not convinced, I’ll take you to the studio and show you how I’ve used a voice modifier. Plus, you’re looking at lyrics of songs that won’t be released until next year. So if you’re willing to wait until then to see your proof, well…”
Well, he hoped those songs would be released next year. He prayed you would believe him.
You choked. “I...believe you.”
Yuta exclaimed. “Really?”
Yuta was acting very childlike today, you observed. You thought it was kind of cute. He may have dropped one of the biggest secrets in the industry but he was still your moody client.
“I can’t believe…you’re Mountain Man…”
Yuta sat down beside you. “You owe me.”
“After you introduced me to...you?” You laughed in disbelief.
He nodded. “You said you would give anything to meet me.” He was smug as he gave you a knowing look.
You scoffed. “I didn’t think you’d use it against me.”
He replied as he leaned back on the chair. “I’m not. I just thought I might impress you.”
“And why would you want to do that?” You teased.
He leaned closer and shrugged. “I’m not entirely sure. I guess I just wanted to.”
You blushed at his proximity and quickly turned away. “There you go again with the teasing.”
Yuta smiled wide. “So what do you want for dinner? Pizza or Chinese?”
^_^
You helped Yuta explore a few looks for his upcoming photoshoot before dinner that night.
You were adding some final touches to his heart-shaped lips. “Your lips are so pretty,” you said without realizing.
Yuta knew to hold still but his eyes opened at hearing you say that. You were so caught up in making up his face that you didn’t realize you were thinking out loud. Yuta chose not to bother you. He owed you that much.
“Okay, I’m done,” you said, “I gave you a more understated look. More neutral tones in your eyeshadow and highlighter. And I chose a brighter shade of pink for your lips. I get more of a romantic vibe from this look,” you said as you looked at his reflection in the makeup mirror.
Yuta looked straight at you. “I love it.” He was impressed with your careful attention to detail and how natural you made his makeup look. Out of all the makeup artists and stylists he’d worked with, you were the most attentive and cooperative. You always surpassed his vision for his look. You asked him for his opinions in case you needed to change anything. Most of the time, though, he was very satisfied with your work on the first go. You were the best makeup artist he’d worked with, he had to admit.
“You don’t want more eyeliner? What were you thinking with your piercings?” You asked.
He shook his head. “It’s perfect, y/n. Every look you showed me is perfect for the shoot. I just need you to be by my side when it starts. No one else touches this face but you.” Yuta explained with no trace of mockery in his voice.
Yuta was so open with you all of a sudden and all you did was breathe. How was that possible? And you felt a little more intimidated now that you knew that Yuta was behind your favorite artist. You remembered that first and foremost you were his makeup artist so you shoved your confused feelings aside. You would panic when you got home.
Blushing and still processing, you said, “Thank.”
“You?” He finished for you.
You blushed even harder. “Yeah.”
He laughed as you tried to compose yourself.
You removed his makeup so his skin could get a break. “What’s next?”
Yuta sighed. “We’re done, y/n. Let’s order something and I’ll drive you home. It’s late.”
You cleaned up your supplies while Yuta ordered pizza. You both liked extra Mozzarella cheese on top.
“So,” you said, “Can I ask you something?” You’ve been dying to ask him questions for hours but you’ve done so well to hold it in. You figured you’d indulge by asking at least one.
“Yeah?” Yuta sat up straight.
“Did you compose all of Mountain Man’s releases?”
He nodded.
“What instruments do you play?” You dared to ask one more question.
“Guitar, piano, drums, violin,” he said as he got up and grabbed his guitar from his case. “Thanks for reminding me. I have a melody stuck in my head, and I want to see if I can make something out of it.”
Yuta tuned his guitar and hummed to himself. He played a few chords.
“Whoa,” you said. “Just like that?”
He chuckled in confusion. “What do you mean?”
“You can make something so incredible and unique in an instant?” You asked, clearly in awe.
He shook his head. “I could only get to this point because I practiced every single day in grade school.”
You heard how lonely he sounded, then. “That must have been…”
“A pain in my ass, yeah. I gave up many trips to Chuck E. Cheese just so I could master the piano,” he grumbled.
“And you never gave up on practicing?” You asked, impressed. Had it been you you would’ve given up and found the next hobby.
“My parents pushed me hard from a young age,” he started, “They wanted me to become a world classical musician. Family honor and all.”
“What changed, though? Skylark isn’t exactly classical,” you observed.
Yuta replied, “I didn’t tell my parents but I started a rock band when I was sixteen. Johnny and Jaehyun have been by my side from the very beginning. We rehearsed in Johnny’s garage until we graduated.”
You grinned, just thinking about teenage Yuta rebelling against his family’s wishes. “That’s sweet.”
He laughed. “Yeah, Johnny and Jaehyun claimed they joined to meet girls but I knew they loved music just as much as I did. Johnny’s cousin Mark and Mark’s best friend Sicheng joined us a few months later and we were a force of nature. That was our first band name, by the way.”
You bit back a laugh. “I’m sorry, what?”
“Force of Nature,” Yuta replied, deadpan. “What’s so funny, y/n?”
You laughed, almost falling over in your seat. “That is so cute. You guys thought you were being edgy.”
Yuta grabbed a throw pillow and threw it at you. “I won’t tolerate mockery from the staff.”
You gasped. “I won’t tolerate a DICKtator.” You grabbed another pillow and threw it at him.
You both laughed so hard. Yuta grabbed an eyeliner pencil you forgot to pack up.
“You know, y/n,” Yuta started as he moved closer to you. “You’re alright.” He took your hand and slipped the eyeliner into it.
“You, too, Nakamoto,” you said, “You’re still paying for the pizza, though.”
Time passed as you two talked about your childhoods, your hobbies, and all about Skylark and Mountain Man.
“Man, what I wouldn’t give to go back in time and learn the guitar,” you said as Yuta mindlessly strummed his guitar and produced heavenly melodies.
Yuta innocently offered, “I can teach you.”
You raised your eyebrows. “In exchange for?”
He laughed warmly. “Nothing. Come over here and sit down.” He patted the seat next to him on the couch so you could join him.
You sat down and he placed his acoustic guitar over you. He moved closer to you, moving his arms over you. You could feel his chest against your back. He radiated warmth and your throat almost went dry.
Yuta took your left hand. “Now...you’re going to place your fingers up here. These are called the frets. I already tuned the guitar, okay?” His voice was very close to your ear and for a moment, you held your breath.
He took your right hand and placed it on the body of the guitar. “Let’s try an A chord.” His deep voice lowered even more and you felt your face heat up.
He took your left fingers and adjusted their positions. Never letting go of your hands, he instructed you to strum the guitar.
The chord sounded more beautiful than you’d expected it to be. “Whoa.”
“Nice,” Yuta said, “Then again, I did most of the work.”
You turned your head to him and his face was mere centimeters away from yours. “You are so-”
Yuta moved even closer. “Finish your sentence, y/n. I’m dying to hear what you have to say.”
You retreated. “Irritating.”
Yuta’s phone rang. The pizza arrived and you two fought over the last slice. He was ridiculous, considering he ate four slices to your three. It was only fair you’d eat the last slice. Yuta got creative and used a plastic knife to cut the last slice in half. You accepted but you were determined to get your revenge.
Yuta drove you home. The night was calm, and the traffic was light.
“You live pretty far if you’re walking to the arena for work, y/n,” Yuta said as he pulled up in front of your building.
“I take two buses. Normally, it’s not a problem. It was complicated today because of the rain,” you said.
“Yeah, I thought we were going to get a massive flood,” he said, “It’s very unlike LA.”
You nodded as you took off your seatbelt. “Well, thanks for the ride.”
Yuta smiled and tipped his imaginary hat. “Thank you for your help tonight.” His smile was at its most radiant, then.
^_^
You wake up the next morning thankful for the weekend but a little sad that…Wait a minute.
You didn’t miss Yuta, you told yourself. The boy gave you whiplash and you were only beginning to get to know him. You had time to do some cleaning around the apartment. Maybe you could find a lot of your missing stuff so you could put that eBay account out of your mind.
It was already 2 PM and you couldn’t find the palette, your primary concern. You sighed. You looked around your spotless room and found some solace in the fact that it was clean and organized. Tidying up was its own therapy.
You called your mom and asked her about her day. You went through your jewelry box.
Your mom chattered on, excited like a schoolgirl, “Anyways y/n, Fred wanted to take me to a costume party tonight so I wanted to know...Do you think the black flapper dress would be better than the mod dress?” Fred was her serious boyfriend of three years. You had a feeling that he would propose anytime now and you were happy for them.
That good feeling quickly dissipated. “Oh, no.” Your most prized possession was missing. You knew it was missing because you always kept it in your jewelry box.
“y/n? Honey, are you okay?” Your mom asked over the line.
You couldn’t tell your mom that your grandmother’s ruby necklace was missing. “Yeah, sorry mom, it’s nothing. I got a little dramatic. Ran out of whipped cream for my sundae.” You lied.
You finished your conversation with your mom. You had no choice but to log onto eBay again. You searched 1026you and your suspicions were confirmed.
Your grandmother’s one-of-a-kind family heirloom was for sale. For one hundred dollars. It was a priceless heirloom that was worth at least ten times as much. You clenched your fists. “Son of a bitch.”
You messaged the seller again but knew he would never answer you. He’s ignored your other messages so what made you think he would respond to this one? You read through the site’s terms and conditions and there was no way to contest that the item was yours. You noticed that the item was up for bid and the bid would end in…
Ten minutes.
The current bid was at $100.
You scoffed. “Why the hell do I have to bid on an item that’s mine?”
You swallowed your pride and prayed that no one else would bid higher.
You placed a bid for $101.
Right away, someone else bid higher. $102.
This went on and on until your competition outbid you and won the necklace for $127.
“Son of a bitch!” You cursed again.
You sent 1026you ten consecutive messages telling them that they stole your necklace and begged them to respond as soon as possible. You knew it was hopeless.
^_^
You knocked on Yangyang’s door. He lived a few doors down from you and Delilah. You used to babysit him when you were in high school and college. Yangyang was a child prodigy, having graduated from MIT with a master’s in computer science at age sixteen. His parents still needed you to babysit when he was acing Physics at age ten. He always insisted he didn’t need a babysitter but you two developed a bond. It was to both of your surprise that he became your neighbor. He had a side hustle as a hacker. You hoped he could help you track down 1026you so you can give him a piece of your mind.
He opened the door. “y/n, what’s up?” He smiled wide. He still had that boyish wonder in his eyes.
“Hey, I hope I’m not interrupting,” you started.
“Not at all, come in,” he moved to the side so you could walk into his messy apartment. Video games were scattered all over his living room floor. He was in the middle of eating a bowl of ramen.
“Yangyang, I know I’ve been relieved from my babysitting duties for a while now but...ramen is not a proper meal,” you said.
“Shut up.” Yangyang laughed. “I’ll grill some meat later. Don’t worry.”
You laughed as you sat at his kitchen table. He gave you a can of Pepsi, knowing it was your favorite. “I need a favor, actually.”
Yangyang rejoiced. “At long last, you need my help. Never thought the day would come. You never let me help you with precalculus, even though you definitely needed it.”
Ignoring his roast for once, you responded, “Well...I need your hacking expertise. I know that this is going to sound crazy but...someone has been stealing things from my apartment and selling them online.”
Yangyang’s smile faded. “What the hell? So that’s why you installed security cameras at your place.”
“I didn’t get into it because I thought I was crazy but my grandmother’s necklace is missing and it’s one of a kind. And now…” You showed him the item that was sold.
“That’s your necklace,” Yangyang replied in shock. He recognized it from having known you for so long. You wore it on rare occasions like birthday parties. You preferred not to be photographed with it because you wanted to preserve it and keep it secret from strangers and acquaintances. You never knew who you could trust.
“Can you help me track down the seller?”
“y/n, that goes against eBay’s terms and conditions,” he replied.
You sighed. “I know but-”
Yangyang chuckled mischievously. “This should be fun.”
Yangyang worked magic on his computer to track down 1026you’s location. He was in Los Angeles, to your surprise. “Can’t get you the seller’s name but will an address do?”
“It’s perfect,” you said.
^_^
Yuta woke up from a nap on the couch. Totoro was sleeping on his stomach. He chuckled as he pet him. Yuta’s phone rang, indicating a notification. He checked his phone and saw that the ruby necklace he put on sale was sold to the highest bidder at the deadline. He also saw a bunch of messages from one account claiming he stole the necklace and he’d better respond to her.
“Crazy,” Yuta said as he ignored the messages.
^_^
“What do you think I should use for today’s luxurious bath, Totoro? The ‘Cotton Candy’ bath bomb or the ‘Madly In Love’ bath bomb?” Yuta carefully picked Totoro up from his lap and placed him on the cold marble floor before standing up and stretching.
Totoro let out a loud “meow” and walked away from Yuta.
“I completely agree.”
Yuta threw his shirt off and headed to his bathroom, but he jumped once he opened the door. He had completely forgotten about the beautiful portrait that leaned against the counter. He stopped and tilted his head, really taking in the depth of color in the painting. He gazed at the stunning profile of the woman and the necklace she had on. He couldn’t understand how he had this undying urge to remember a memory he never had, to remember the moment he met this strange woman from the portrait.
He shook his head and started to run water for his bath, oblivious to the eyes that watched him through the small opening of the door.
^_^
You watched a shirtless Yuta stare at something for a few seconds. You couldn’t see what it was, but you really didn’t care, for Yuta’s abs were the real star of the show. Your mouth fell open, your heart started to race. Yuta was perfect in every way, and the twinkling piercing in his navel was the cherry on top.
But...wait.
You had to remember why you were here. Yangyang’s research found that this was the address of the person that was selling your precious necklace so you had to work fast. You already got lucky when you found a window in a first floor bedroom that was open.
You were shocked to see that it was Yuta’s house that you would have to break into, but once again, you just had to get your priceless possession.
Was Yuta messing with you? How could he do this and when could he do this? When would he have had time to sneak into your place and steal your necklace? Or was it his girlfriend?
Yuta shook his head before turning it to the side slightly. You jumped out of sight by moving to the side quickly. He interrupted your thoughts, but you had to get moving before he got out of the shower.
You looked around his enormous mansion, heading for what seemed to be his bedroom, for it was the biggest one at the top of the grand staircase.
Surely, there had to be an explanation for how your possession became his possession. Nonetheless, you were pissed that he decided to ignore your message and proceed to sell it. How could he steal something so meaningful to you then sell it? It’s not like he needed the money.
You looked on top of the California King-sized bed and then under it to see if you could just catch a glimpse of the shimmering ruby stone. But you found nothing. You then looked at his black dresser before stopping to gaze at his extensive earring collection. It was incredible.
A case full of hundreds if not thousands of earrings and jewelry stood beside the dresser. Your mouth fell open and your eyes widened. What if he stole jewelry? No-no, you shook your head at the absurd thought. This man had way too much money.
Then you heard him singing in the bathroom beside his bedroom. But his voice grew louder as he exited and entered the hallway to make his way to his room.
“Shit,” you whispered.
Your heart started to race. You're just moments from being caught so you look back to the dresser and spot it.
Your necklace.
It’s next to the small brown bag that it would have been sent in today, but you grabbed it just in the nick of time.
“BABAY!! Why DON’T YOU JUST MEET ME IN THE MIDDLEEE??” Yuta sang in the hallway and thanks to his boastful voice and the large ceilings that allowed for a beautiful echo, you heard him when he was just about to enter. You quickly dropped to the floor and rolled under the bed.
You covered your mouth to muffle your heavy breathing. He was pacing about, walking to and from his closet.
“Nah, don’t like this…” he threw a flannel onto the bed. He went into his closet and grabbed a black T-shirt, the 56th black T-shirt in his collection, to be exact.
“Nice.” Yuta continued to hum while spritzing on some cologne.
Yuta smelled amazing, like vanilla and roses, but you couldn’t help but be worried that you would be late for work if you couldn’t get out of his house right NOW.
“Hey, babe..” You heard a female voice say. It was his girlfriend. “Damn it,” you mouthed. Ashley was known for being one of the most gorgeous celebrities alive today. She had the perfect face with a dazzling smile to match, but rumor had it that she was a complete bitch behind closed doors.
You heard Yuta sigh and you could almost feel his eye roll. He was thinking of how much he hated himself for ever giving her a key to his house.
“What’s up, Ash?” He spoke to her like he was being forced to communicate with an Uber driver.
“Oh, don’t sound so excited to see me…” Ashley responded. She walked up behind him and wrapped her arms around his waist.
Yuta was fixing his earrings onto his ears when she embraced him. He looked at her through the mirror in front of them and gave a look of annoyance when she tilted her head to lock eyes with him.
“So...where were you yesterday? You missed our dinner date at the Venetian...Do you know how much it cost me to lose that reservation AND call off the paps?”
“I’m sure you can afford it.” Yuta walked away from her and looked at the dresser with a puzzled expression. Something’s missing, he thought.
You watched Yuta’s footsteps as he hesitated for a moment, but then he continued on into his closet.
Your eyes grew. Did Yuta really blow off his date at the most expensive restaurant in the city to be with you? He ditched $1,000 caviar and steak just to eat $12 pizza with you?
“You really like making me beg, don’t you, Mr. Nakamoto?” Her voice lowered as she leaned against the dresser and watched Yuta put his socks on.
“Where were you, daddy?”
Yuta hesitated for a moment. He didn’t like the fact that she thought he had to report his movements to her. She acted like she had to know everything that went on in his life. She was overstepping and Yuta wasn’t about to fall for it.
So he decided to piss her off.
“I was with..the new girl.”
Ashley stood up straight and crossed her arms. You nearly yelped out under the bed and revealed yourself.
“Who’s the ‘new girl’?” Ashley asked and you could just hear the fire in her tone. Even Charizard would be jealous.
“The new makeup artist..she’s sweet, I bought us food and we talked.” Yuta smirked and walked closer to Ashley who didn’t even try to hide her jealousy. Her perfectly plucked brows furrowed.
“I taught her how to play the guitar...she’s lovely, really. We had a great time.” Yuta was definitely twisting the knife and you couldn’t tell if he spoke of you fondly just to piss her off, or if he genuinely meant it. Either way, his words filled your chest with butterflies, and a smile tugged at your lips.
“Yuta...baby, you missed our date at THE Venetian to spend it with some talentless random who probably has a failing Youtube channel?” Ashley pouted. “Let me show you what’s lovely, Mr. Nakamoto.”
Yuta was about to protest, but Ashley held his chin and tilted it down towards her before placing a kiss on his lips.
The sound echoed in the large room and made you roll your eyes. She insulted you without having met you? What a bitch, you thought. No wonder Yuta was miserable.
She then took his hand and led him to the bed, pushing his chest lightly so he’d sit on the soft surface. She dropped to her knees and ran her hands along his thighs.
Oh no...please don’t do what I think you’re about to do. You squeezed your eyes tightly and prayed that Yuta would tell her to wait until later.
Yuta huffed and puffed but indulged her, allowing her to have her way because he just couldn’t be bothered. She unbuckled his belt while looking into his low eyes.
“You’re stressed, baby, that’s why you spent time with a total stranger. But don’t forget you have me.” Ashley licked her lips before taking his pant zipper in between her teeth and dragging it down.
“I can’t wait to taste you, Mr. Nakamoto.” Ashley kissed his pelvis. She was too busy to see Yuta cringe at the name she called him. God, did it feel weird.
“Just...m-make it quick. I have to go.” Yuta licked his lips, letting his head fall back as he closed his eyes in anticipation.
Shit. You mouthed again. You were about to hear the most disturbing sounds of your life and there was nothing you could do, nowhere that you could go. Could you sneak out on the other side without them noticing? Shit shit shit shit.
Ashley sneezed before she could place her mouth on Yuta again.
Yuta looked down in annoyance.
She quickly swiped at her nose then retook her position.
She puckered her lips to lay a kiss on his growing bulge, but she sneezed again.
Several more sneezes followed and Yuta was getting frustrated. He slowly became turned off.
“Damn it, do you still have that ugly cat? I’m suffering here!” She yelled before laying out four back-to-back sneezes.
“So am I.. I gotta go, Ashley.” Yuta rolled his eyes and stood up. He brushed past her, where she still knelt on the floor, and walked towards the dresser.
“Make yourself useful and mail this-” Yuta’s sentence trailed when he didn't see the necklace. The brown envelope was there but the necklace was no longer beside it. “What the hell, I could’ve sworn...”
He looked into the brown bag then onto the floor and the rest of the dresser. Sure enough, the necklace was gone. “So it disappears just as quickly as it appeared? Shit.”
Your brows furrowed. What did he mean by “appeared?”
“Have you seen-?” Yuta was about to ask.
But suddenly, your phone started to vibrate in your back pocket. You quickly reached towards it to silence it so it would no longer make that grinding sound while shaking on the floor.
Luckily, Ashley was still sneezing so it covered up the sound..or so you thought.
“What was that?” Yuta turned and looked about the room for the source of the sound.
Ashley finally stood up and walked towards him. “I’ll just drive with you to work! We can finish what we started...” She gave him a wink before sniffling.
Yuta grimaced and grabbed his keys, brushing past her once again to head out the door.. “Whatever you say, Ash.”
Ashley practically skipped behind him. Finally, the room was empty. You swiftly dragged yourself from under the bed and stood up.
You heard them argue downstairs so you decided that you would climb out from the patio attached to Yuta’s room. Yangyang made sure to deactivate Yuta’s entire security system, including his cameras, so you could enter and leave without detection.
You took a deep breath before jumping from the porch and into the bushes below it. You tried not to scream as loudly as you wanted to. How you didn’t break your legs, you weren’t sure, but you were somehow able to leap back onto your feet and book it for the main road, sliding through the gate while Yuta and his girlfriend waited for the garage door to open so they could drive out.
By the time you got to work, you were covered in sweat, leaves, and dirt. You smelled and looked like you had been camping for at least 23 days in the Appalachian mountains, but it didn’t matter. You finally had your necklace.
“You good, y/n?” Manager Byun gave you a puzzled expression as you hurriedly took your tools out of your kit and placed them on the vanity for Yuta. You were somehow able to get there just minutes before him.
“I’m okay! Had a slightly...difficult time getting here, but I’m ready!” You gave him a smile so forced, you thought your face would be stuck like that forever.
He nodded slowly but still looked confused.
Just then, Yuta entered. His smile was bright and so beautiful. You melted like chocolate in his sunny smile when his eyes were glued to yours as he entered.
But your feelings of admiration soon dissipated when you saw his girlfriend behind him. She held up a compact mirror and was fixing her lipstick as she walked in.
I guess they did finish what they started...
Your smile fell. You didn’t know why you were sad and disappointed. It’s not like your one night with Yuta actually meant anything. He had a girlfriend, and not just any girlfriend. A celebrity girlfriend that was just listed as the person with the second most beautiful face in the world, behind Zendaya of course. Yuta was lucky, there’s no way he’d drop her for you.
You looked away as he walked over. He could feel a shift in your mood immediately. Your eyes were so big and bright when he entered and now you shifted your focus to organizing your makeup and covering a look of sadness that he could clearly see.
Yuta said ‘hi’ to everyone but stepped quickly over to you.
“Hey...y/n...it's nice to see you again.” Yuta gave you a half smile that really tugged at your heartstrings. How could he manage to make you so weak?
“Hey, Yuta.” You gave a short answer, and he could tell you were upset. You weren't nearly as cheerful as you were yesterday. Then..he noticed how disheveled you were.
His face became serious. He touched your arm and it felt like sparks dancing along your skin.
“What’s wrong?” he asked quietly while the other members and the manager went about their business.
You tried to avoid his magnetic gaze, but couldn't.
Your mouth opened as you looked into his eyes. “I’m-”
“Hi! Nice to meet you, are you the new makeup girl?” Ashley pushed herself in between you and Yuta and obnoxiously smiled in your face to push you further away from Yuta.
“Yes.” You pucker your lips and glance at Yuta who looked beyond annoyed.
“Well, you certainly don’t look like a makeup artist..” Ashley chuckled.
You scoffed. “What?”
“I mean, look at your nails.. Are you sure you want to touch my boyfriend's perfect face when you’ve got an entire ecosystem under your nail bed?” She grabbed your hand without warning and held it up for both you and Yuta to see the dirt that had gotten under your nails when you had jumped off of his patio and held on to the ground for support. You were running late so you didn’t get a chance to go to the restroom to clean up, but of course you would wash your hands before touching his face.
“I-” you started, but she interrupted you once again.
“That’s not very professional of you...”
“Ashley! Stop, don’t you have a photo shoot to get to?” Yuta took your hand from her and lowered it to your side, but he didn’t let it go. He stood beside you and looked onto Ashley with disappointment. Your heart became warm as he squeezed your hand to let you know that he had your back.
Ashley chuckled. “People come and go pretty fast here sweetie..let’s see how long you last.” She rolled her eyes before pushing herself in between the two of you, breaking off your linked hands in the process. How could someone so beautiful also be so ugly?
“I’m so sorry about her.” Yuta turned to you.
You nodded. “She’s right. It's very unprofessional of me to come to work like this.”
Yuta shook his head. “Don’t worry about it, y/n. Things happen..Let me show you where the shower is.”
^_^
Yuta led you to the locker room where the shower was. He handed you a tshirt and sweatpants that he had asked the manager to keep in a locker for him just in case he needed to change after sweating too much.
“Why are you dating someone so...mean?” You asked while you followed Yuta. You didn’t think twice about your question, and really, you had no right to ask him. He was just your client, not your friend.
Yuta chuckled. He turned to you and raised his eyebrows. “I smell some jealousy.”
You rolled your eyes. “Yeah, she’s pretty or whatever, but trust me I am not jealous. I just don’t understand how you could be with someone like that..”
“I’m not a saint either, y/n..we’re perfect for each other..or at least our agencies think so.” Yuta paused. He wondered if he should let you in on yet another secret, but he didn’t notice that his eyes had trailed to your lips, adoring the way they formed a small pout.
You laughed. “You have a point, you weren’t exactly the nicest to me when I first started working for you...”
Yuta grinned when he saw your bright smile and your doe eyes as you laughed again. You were like a breath of fresh air, unlike anyone he’d ever seen. His spirit was instantly drawn to you, for you calmed him. You were just a stranger yet you felt like home.
“I’ll make it up to you...How about I teach you more about the guitar after the shoot?” He stepped closer, anxiously awaiting your approval like a boy that just asked his crush to prom.
You started to blush, his face was so close to yours, you had to look into his eyes.
You took in a sharp breath. “Are you sure your girlfriend will be okay with that? I don’t want you to stand her up again, she’ll probably stab me with an eyeliner pencil.”
“Again?” Yuta’s brows bunched together, but he still gave a teasing smile.
sHIT.
“O-oh i mean, surely you’ve stood her up at some point, right? She’s a total b-”
Yuta burst out into laughter.
You looked at him with worry on your face. “W-what did I do?”
“You’re adorable, but I just can’t take it anymore.” Yuta reached his hand out to the side of your face and gently removed a long vine that was tangled in your hair. He then removed a large, green leaf that stuck out of your disheveled do.
He calmed down. “There we go..much better. Even nature loves your beautiful face.”
Beautiful face.
Your heart began to race for the third time in one day. Too much was happening, you thought you would pass out. Did Yuta really just say that you were beautiful?
He cleared his throat when he realized that the words he was thinking actually came out while the two of you stood awkwardly in the locker room.
“Yuta?”
He smiled, just the sound of you saying his name made him weak for some reason, what was happening to him?
“What?”
“You’re staring..” you chuckled.
“I’m getting inspired.” he gazed at your eyes then your lips as he spoke in a softer tone.
“By what?” You tilted your head.
“By you.”
“Mountain Man, you really have a way with words, I bet you say that to all your groupies.” You rolled your eyes and brushed past him, walking towards the shower.
He spun around and grabbed your hand. Your breath hitched when you turned to look at him, his full lips parted and eyes begging for something.
“I...have to tell you something..”
He looked so serious for once.
“Ashley and I are in a fake relationship. It’s all a publicity stunt that our labels set up. I don’t love her...But I’m telling you because I feel like..I can really talk to you.”
“I can’t say I’m surprised, Yuta.” you gave a small smile. “I’m just your makeup artist, but if you want to talk to me, I don’t see why not. You’ve already told me two major secrets.”
Yuta laughed out at your response, a strand of his beautiful fuchsia hair falling into his forehead, making him look even more handsome than he did before.
He stepped closer.
“Wash up quickly, for me..the shoot starts soon.”
Yuta winked and walked away leaving you a blushing mess.
“Also, remember we have a guitar lesson later.”
For me.
Why did he have to say it like that? Wait, why were you even affected by that? Could your heart calm down when you were around him for more than five seconds?
^_^
You walked into the dressing room in your new comfy outfit and headed straight for your section. The sweatpants Yuta gave you didn’t have pockets, so you had to wear the necklace around your neck. You tucked it under your shirt to make sure that no one would see it on you.
“Wow, I wish I was wearing that instead of leather pants right now...” Johnny pouted when he saw you in Yuta’s Nike sweats.
“You look great! Always remember, beauty is pain,” you gave him a wink and continued to place your tools in order.
“You must be in pain all the time then, y/n.” Yuta exclaimed as he approached his seat.
Everyone in the dressing room let out ‘oooooo’s’ like primary school students.
You blushed but turned away quickly so he wouldn’t see. “Always teasing me, I swear one day you’re gonna pay.”
“Can’t wait for that day.” Yuta relaxed into the chair.
You leaned forward and started to place the concealer under his eyes with a small brush. You took your time and blended carefully, but felt your face become hot when you realized that he was staring at you intensely.
You couldn’t hold it in anymore. You stepped back to laugh and shook your head.
“What’s wrong? Am I making you flustered?” Yuta smirked.
You rolled your eyes then leaned in towards his face. He suddenly sat up straighter, moving forward so that his lips would be just a few centimeters away from yours.
“Stop teasing me. We don’t have time.” You blushed once again and stepped back.
Yuta bit his lips and chuckled. “Oh, so demanding.”
You were doing his eyeliner when you tugged at the collar of the men’s shirt. It was choking you slightly because it was higher than a regular T-shirt. That’s when your necklace popped up and rested on top of the shirt instead of under it.
“Wait...where did you get that?” Yuta leaned back.
“What?” You narrowed your brow, for you didn’t understand why his demeanor became so serious.
“That necklace...”
Shit.
“Did you steal that..from me?”
Then it all clicked for Yuta. You were in his house. You eavesdropped on his and Ashley’s conversation. That’s how you knew that he stood her up the night before. And that’s why you came to work all sweaty and out of breath.
“What are you talking about?” You backed away from him, but he stood up quickly and snatched the necklace from your neck furiously. The sound of the chain breaking frightened you and you became just as furious. This bastard had no idea what he had just done.
“Yuta!”
Everyone turned to you two once your voice rose.
“What the hell are you doing? Give it back!” You demanded.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket as he examined the necklace, the shape and cut of the ruby stone and the unique gold chain that it hung on.
He compared the necklace to the picture he posted on his eBay account, and sure enough, it was the same necklace.
“You stole this from my house! You stole from me! I thought I could trust you! What are you, some crazy stalker?!”
“Wait, you’re user 1026you! You’re the crazy one! You stole from me so that you can sell MY jewelry online! You also stole my limited edition eyeshadow palette!” Your voices escalated and everyone else in the room became quiet.
“This crazy bitch! Why the hell would I steal from someone like you?” Yuta gave you a look of disgust and looked down on you like you were a poor dog. You really hated his guts now. He towered over you as he yelled, but you weren’t scared. You were just angry that he had the audacity to lie in front of everyone like this.
“I can’t steal something that was already mine!”
“It was never yours! It was in MY house, and I have the proof right here!” He held up his phone as Manager Byun walked over.
“What’s going on here?” The manager was both puzzled and surprised that you were in a yelling match with the member that no one dared to fight.
“This delusional girl that you decided to hire is a stalker! She broke into my house and stole my necklace.”
“YOUR necklace? You’ve really lost your mind! You stole it from me first.” You shouted back.
“Okay, okay everyone calm down. y/n.. Did you break into Yuta’s house?” the manager turned to you.
“No-I mean, yes, but only because he was going to sell it and it’s precious to me. He ignored my messages and blocked me on eBay before I could explain!”
“You broke into my client’s house?” Baekhyun gaped.
“She sure as hell did. Security!! She tricked me and got close to me just so she could steal from me and learn my secrets. How much were you gonna sell this for, huh? But the worst part is that I trusted you like a fool,” Yuta stepped forward as he spewed hateful and untrue words.
Your eyes started to water, you struggled to hold back tears. “Yuta, you know that’s not true. The necklace was never yours! It belonged to my grandmother and means so much to me.”
“Prove it.” Yuta was angry beyond words, he felt betrayed.
You struggled to think of any way to prove that it was yours. The security guards took your arms and placed them behind your back while pulling you away and out of the room.
The only thing that could prove that the necklace was yours would be the painting that your grandmother made of you when you wore the necklace. The painting that you just now realized had also gone missing.
“No! Don’t do this! I’m not a stalker.” You struggled to stay still as the guards dragged you out.
“She’s delusional! How could you hire someone like that? She put me in danger!” Yuta marched off to the bathroom so he could cool down.
“Yuta-wait. y/n...We will be pressing charges, I’m calling the police.” Manager Byun pulled out his phone.
^_^
A few hours passed and the news broke of what happened.
Crazy Stalker poses as Makeup Artist to Break into Yuta Nakamoto’s home!
BREAKING: MUGSHOT OF DELUSIONAL STALKER OF YUTA NAKAMOTO RELEASED
How did she pull off the perfect plan and is Yuta Nakamoto in danger?
You sat on the bench in your cold cell and wiped your eyes. Everything went bad so quickly. Yuta and basically the entire world thought you were a stalker and there was nothing you could do to prove your innocence. Yuta had the audacity to accuse you of stealing something that was never his to begin with.
And now, you could hear his fans chanting hurtful messages.
“She’s a crazy stalker, We will protect Yuta!”
“Yuta, we love you!”
“SHE DOESN’T DESERVE FREEDOM”
You were so confused, but the part that hurt the most was that your most prized possession was gone and probably in the air on some shipping company's airplane being delivered to some oblivious buyer.
What could you possibly do to make everything right at this point?
Yuta, on the other hand, was at home being coddled by his oh so caring girlfriend.
He laid down on his plush, velvet couch and pouted.
“It’s gonna be okay, Yuta. I swear we’ll get the best lawyers. She’ll never see another day outside!” Ashley got up from the couch and paced about.
“I knew I had a bad feeling about her.”
But Yuta disagreed. He never had a bad feeling about you. He thought you were sweet and kind, he thought everything about you was genuine especially when compared to the fakeness that surrounded him in his lifestyle. How could he have been fooled like this?
He told you two major secrets and now he’d probably have to drop the charges in exchange for your silence.
You really got to him because you seemed to be the biggest fan of Mountain Man, you seemed to appreciate his hard work, but now he didn’t think any of your praises were genuine. He couldn’t even go on social media. All the hashtags were ALWAYSHEREFORYUTA, WEWILLPROTECTYUTA, CRAZYSTALKER.
And they just reminded him of how weak he became.
“LOOK! TMZ just got her mugshot! I’m so happy they’re exposing this bitch, I hope they release her address and family information.”
Ashley smirked when she pulled up the picture of your mugshot on Yuta’s phone.
“Ashley...you need to leave...” Yuta sat up on the couch and looked at the floor. He couldn’t take anymore of Ashley’s annoying voice and he really wanted to be alone to relax and decompress after what happened.
“Oh, my poor little meow meow, I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.” Ashley sat back down on the couch beside him and tried to take his jaw in her hands but he backed away.
“Not now, Ash..I’ll see you tomorrow.”
Ashley scoffed and slowly got up from the couch.
“Okay...let me know if you need anything.”
Yuta breathed a sigh of relief once he heard the front door close. He could hear tons of fans outside of his front gate cheering for him when she opened the door and it made him sick. He doesn’t feel proud. Because the truth is, the necklace wasn’t his. It just “appeared.” But here he was defending his possession of it and it didn’t feel right.
Yuta bit his lips then looked down at his phone which was still open with the article that included your mugshot.
He looked away at first, but then looked back down when something caught his eye. He looked more closely at the photo.
Your eyes.
He’d seen them before. Of course he had, but this time..they were different. They reminded him of something, someone.
The color of your cheeks and the depth of your beautiful eyes, the tone of your gorgeous soft skin and the curve of your lips. He had seen it before.
It took him a moment to realize.
The painting.
You were the woman in the painting that found itself in his bathroom. You were the same woman that wore a necklace just like the one he sold.
He looked over the messages you sent him on his seller account. It was like clockwork, every time something appeared in his house and he posted it online, you would message him about it to ask that he return it.
She was telling the truth. Yuta thinks to himself. He could punch himself right now. He was so rude to you for no reason. It was your stuff that kept popping up in his house and he didn’t understand why, but he knew that you were innocent. The painting was huge so it’s not like you placed it there by yourself to mess with him.
He threw on his jean jacket and headed out the door to go to the police station.
He had to fight through the screaming fans outside of the station that were waiting for a chance to attack you, the police officers gathering around him to move him through the hectic crowd.
Once inside, he went to the front desk and immediately told the officer that he wanted to drop all charges against you.
“You’re one lucky girl...” The officer said as she opened the gate of your cell.
“What?” You looked up at her questioningly and stood up from the wooden bench that had made your butt sore.
“He’s here for you..you know, the good looking rocker dude.” She unlocks your handcuffs and walks you out of the cell.
You’re relieved but can’t seem to smile, what’s going on?
Yuta was signing paperwork as you walked up to him.
“Yuta..you asshole.”
“That’s no way to speak to the man that just got your ass out.” Yuta looked up and sighed.
You scoffed. “You’re the one that put me in there! And I’m supposed to thank you?” You pushed past him and headed for the door. You started to walk down the stairs, but you were quickly stopped by the officers that stood out front.
“What the-“ you started when you saw the enormous crowd outside of the station. They were Yuta’s fans and paparazzi. They rapidly snapped so many pictures of you, you had to close your eyes and cover your face, the flashing lights being all too much for you. All you could hear were the thunderous ‘boo’s’ of Yuta’s fans.
Yuta was used to noise and flashing bright lights so he quickly came up behind you and turned you around. He held your head and pressed it onto his chest lightly.
You started to cry when you heard the names everyone was calling you over a simple misunderstanding. How could you be a ‘normal’ person after all this? All you wanted was your necklace and now you were overwhelmed by this new and unwelcoming spotlight.
“Shhh..don’t cry, it’ll be okay..I got you.” Yuta whispered into your ear as he patted your head softly.
You relaxed into him more, enjoying the comfort of his broad chest.
“Put your arms around my neck. Just trust me, okay?” Yuta’s soft tone made you shudder even though you still hated him.
But you did as he instructed.
He then picked up your legs and held you in his arms bridal style. The fans roared even louder but Yuta ignored them. He marched down the stairs towards his car while police blocked them from the two of you. He was able to lay you down on the backseat of his Range Rover before jumping into the front seat and speeding away from the madness.
Once the two of you were somewhat safe and far from the police station and his fans, Yuta exhaled.
He turned to look at you when he got to a red light. You were huddled up with your back facing him while you laid down on the surprisingly comfortable backseat. You had stopped crying, but you were still angry.
“Listen, I’m just as frustrated as you are. But we need to talk about this. What the hell is going on?” Yuta let out.
“I don’t know, maybe we should’ve talked before you had security take me away. Then all of this shit wouldn’t have happened. Oh and frustrated?” You scoffed.
“Did you just spend over 8 hours in a cold prison cell for stealing a necklace that belonged to you in the first place?!”
“You’re the one that broke into my house! Why didn’t you just tell me?”
“I tried to message you but you insisted on being a jerk to make quick cash off of someone else’s belongings.”
You pulled your phone out of your pocket.
“Have you seen this shit? Your girlfriend just had a press conference and is calling for all makeup brands and agencies to swear to never hire me! I hate you, I can’t believe you put me in jail and essentially, ended my whole career!”
Yuta sighed. “I’m sorry, y/n. I really am, don’t look at social media right now, and your career isn’t over, we’ll get this sorted out.”
“How did you find out the truth anyway?” You asked.
“I recognized you in the painting, you had the necklace on.”
“The painting? Wait, you have that too?” Your eyes widened.
“Yes, and I was stupid to not realize it was you sooner. I—was an idiot, y/n. I hope you can forgive me. As a matter of fact, you can expose me as the Mountain Man if you want, you can expose everything.” Yuta was genuinely sorry for what he put you through. The whole world knew who you were now. You were famous, but not in a good way. Yuta had millions of fans and you were pretty sure you were the second most hated person in the world on twitter right now, behind Donald Trump of course.
“Yuta...I don’t want to get even with you, I want my life back.” You closed your eyes and started to drift off into a deep sleep while he drove.
Yuta cursed himself, he felt a bond being created with you and now he ruined it. And he had to admit that he had started to admire the woman in the painting, the woman he wanted to know even though his soul felt he already knew her. And now, the beautiful woman was right next to him, and yet, so far away.
^_^
When you got back to Yuta’s place, you entered through the garage so no one could see you get out of his car.
Yuta took you to his security room where he could watch footage from all of the cameras inside and outside of his house.
He reached for your hand to guide you through the large mansion, but you didn’t take it this time.
You huffed and rolled your eyes.
“Explain to me why you keep taking my stuff.”
“I don’t take anything. It just..appears.” Yuta walked quickly to the room.
“I'm gonna prove it to you right now.”
Yuta pulls up footage from the night the painting appeared in his bathroom, but every time he fast forwards to the exact moment that the painting appears, the footage cuts out.
“Did you see that? The second that my camera cuts to black is the moment that the painting just magically appears.”
You blink rapidly. “Play it again.”
Yuta replays it and you both watch the unexplainable. Chills run down your spine as you are creeped all the way out.
“I’ll show you the night your necklace popped up in my kitchen.”
It felt like you were watching something from Paranormal Activity and although you were a big fan of horror movies, you sure didn’t like being in one.
The same thing happened. There is a second of footage that is cut out and right after, the footage plays again with the new item in frame. It didn’t make any sense.
Yuta looked at you as you stared at the screen and tried to make sense of what he saw.
You were so beautiful, your long lashes batting slowly, your pursed lips and cute nose. Why was he so drawn to you? The magnetic pull he felt towards you became even stronger now that he knew you were the woman in the painting.
“Where is it now, Yuta?”
“Where’s what?” Yuta was only thinking about your face. For a moment, he forgot what you were even doing there.
“The necklace.” Your doe eyes shifted upwards to his.
Yuta sighed and looked away to the floor. “I—was upset, so I already sent it to the buyer.”
You closed your eyes and let out a slow breath.
“Yuta...we have to get it back, you don’t..you don’t understand.”
“They won’t give it back to me, y/n. They already know that I’m the user that sold it, it’ll be even more valuable now.”
“But it’s priceless to me, Yuta!” You yelled before tears ran down your cheeks.
“y/n..” Yuta stepped forward to hug you, and you let him. His arms held you tightly. “We’ll work this out, I’ll get it back if it means that much to you.”
“My grandmother was a painter, she’s the one that created that painting for me. She was the best..” you sniffled as you rested your head on his chest again.
“She was the one that taught me about creativity, color and believing in your art.. she’s the one I looked up to when I was growing up. I spent most of my time with her when my parents would fight..which was pretty often.”
Yuta smoothed your hair as you spoke.
“But one day, she lit a candle..she forgot to blow it out before falling asleep on her couch and a fire started to spread..”
“y/n..I’m so sorry.”
“The oil paintings allowed for the fire to become huge and made it impossible for her to escape..she died before firefighters could get to her, the only thing that survived the fire was that necklace. She held onto it..for me. She said she would give it to me one day when I was old enough.” You sobbed once more.
“y/n..I promise you I will do everything I can to get it back.”
You sniffled then looked up at Yuta. “Please, Yuta.”
He nodded. “ I promise.”
Just then you felt something walk between your ankles. When you looked down, you were startled to see your cat, Totoro.
“What the hell? Why do you have my cat? I’ve been looking for him everywhere, but he’s old and just kinda does what he wants.” Totoro’s abrupt entrance makes you stop crying.
“What? YOUR cat? He’s in my house, he’s mine now.” Yuta says sternly.
God, why was he so possessive?
You looked back up at him and pushed his chest away, you suddenly remembered the kind of man Yuta was.
“He’s MY cat, you fool. You didn’t even raise him. You probably lured him in here by giving him food!” You picked Totoro up.
You still hated Yuta, however, it was like a weight had been lifted once you told him about the significance of the necklace.
You turned to leave Yuta’s place through the back entrance you entered through.
“Prove it, prove he’s yours, what’s his name?” Yuta looked hurt that you were taking Totoro away from him.
“It’s Totoro, bitch.” You rolled your eyes and continued walking straight-faced with your cat in hand.
Yuta’s eyes grew, he was left speechless.
The two of you finally got to the garage.
You turned to him.
“You owe me a ride home, and after that, I never want to see you again.”
^_^
Yuta drove you back to your apartment, apologizing multiple times. This day he apologized more times than he has ever apologized for anything in his life. It had to be some sort of record.
You were tired because this truly had been one of the longest days of your life. You wanted a warm shower and to hug Totoro to sleep.
Yuta parked his car in front of your building and turned to look at you. “y/n...”
“Thanks for the ride back,” you muttered as you and Totoro walked back to your apartment.
You looked so dejected and devoid of any emotion. This entire misunderstanding did a number on you. And it was his fault. He had to act fast if he was going to make this up to you.
Little did you know that a pair of serpentine eyes watched you from across the parking lot. Ashley laid low in a car she typically wouldn’t be caught dead in and watched her man drive that freak home. That was when she saw that you were carrying that mangy cat in your arms.
“So it was her cat?” She asked herself. She pulled out her phone as she took pictures of you leaving Yuta’s car and pictures of Yuta’s license plate.
Once you were out of sight, Yuta just idled there. For a little too long. It drove Ashley crazy. How could Yuta be so kind to this nobody? After everything you did?
You were inferior to her in every way, Ashley thought. Yuta was a fool for looking at anyone but her. She had to do something so you could be out of the picture forever.
She would be damned if Yuta left her for an unemployed, disgraced nobody. Ashley pitied you because she wasn’t finished with her reign of terror on you. Not by a long shot.
^_^
A few days have passed since your name became the most searched on all social media platforms. You prayed something juicier could distract the public so you could become insignificant again.
A news article came out that Yuta dropped the charges against you and that you were innocent. Unfortunately, the deranged and delusional members of the public (aka the Yutastans) already made up their mind about you. And today, shit hit the fan once again.
Delilah sat with you on the couch as you binge watched Riverdale. It cheered you up to roast the show with your best friend. Things almost seemed like they hadn’t changed.
Delilah checked her phone and nearly choked on her glass of water.
“What is it?” You asked. “Are you okay?”
Delilah set her glass down as she stared at her phone. “That’s our apartment complex. Fuck.”
“Delilah, what’s wrong?” You had a bad feeling.
“y/n, it’s going to be okay. We will get through this,” she began and you motioned for her to hand you her phone.
Delilah reluctantly handed it to you as you read the article on her phone.
Yuta Nakamoto’s Crazy Stalker Is Actually His Side Chick?
That was the headline and your heart plummeted. There were pictures of you holding Totoro as you got out of Yuta’s car when he brought you home.
“What the hell,” you started, “Who took these?” You demanded.
Someone knocked at your door and you shrunk into the couch. Delilah looked at you in concern and she went to answer the door. You both feared who it could be.
She checked the peephole and exhaled. “It’s Yangyang.”
She opened the door and Yangyang ran in. “y/n, are you okay? I saw-“
Shutting the door. Delilah raised her hand up to stop him. “We just saw the article.”
Yangyang cursed. “Someone leaked those photos to the paparazzi. I‘ll help you track down who did this, y/n.”
You sat there in silence. What could you say? What was the point? It was your word against the public who never believed in you. Not only do they think you stole things from Yuta but they now considered you a homewrecker.
And it was only a matter of time before your home address was leaked.
Delilah and Yangyang looked at each other in concern. Delilah deliberated. “She came home with Totoro that day. It was last Thursday. Around...4 PM?”
Yangyang nodded and sat down at the kitchen table. “It’s been a while since I’ve hacked into the complex’s security footage.”
That got a reaction out of you. “You mean you’ve done this before?”
Yangyang smiled wide, happy to see you react to that. “Someone paid me a hefty sum to catch their cheating husband in his shenanigans. I use my powers for good. You know this.”
Delilah scoffed. “You are such a little weirdo.”
He rolled his eyes at the word “little”. He typed away at his keyboard. He chuckled. “Amateurs. They changed one number in their password. Lazy.”
Yangyang navigated through the parking lot security footage. Based off of the angle of which the photo was shot, he was able to pinpoint where the culprit was hiding.
“A 2019 Lexus,” Yangyang said, “License plate ASHL3Y.”
Delilah let out a sarcastic laugh. “Golly gee, whoever could that be...”
You got up from the couch and checked the footage with Yangyang. “I believe it. She hated me even before she met me.”
“She’s the crazy stalker, if you ask me,” Yangyang said.
You sighed. “What will it take for her to leave me alone?”
Your phone rang. It was an unknown number and you chose to ignore it, knowing damn well it was probably a Yutastan who was going to cast some sort of evil spell on you.
Then, immediately you got a text.
Answer the phone. Unless you want an angry mob to break into your apartment tomorrow. -kiss emoji-
^_^
“Thank you for agreeing to meet me,” Ashley started. “Can I offer you a glass of lemonade? Some Brie and crackers?”
In Ashley’s penthouse suite, you sat with her in the living room. She sat across from you in a leather loveseat while you sat in a massive L-shaped leather sofa.
“What the hell do you want? You want to throw it in my face that you ruined my life and put not only my life in danger but my friends’ and family’s lives in danger, too?” You snapped.
Ashley laughed. Her voice was as irritating as that of any early 2000s socialite. “Don’t be so dramatic. No one knows about your family. Your friends at the complex are safe with some of my best security guards.”
“Gee, thanks,” you said as you rolled your eyes.
“None of this would’ve happened if you knew your place and left my Yuta alone,” she said, “So, how long?” She demanded.
“What?” You asked in confusion.
“How long have you two been screwing around behind my back?” She asked.
It was your turn to bust out laughing. You almost cried. “I helped him with his shoot last Wednesday night. The closest I’ve ever gotten to Yuta was when he gave me one guitar lesson. He drove me home twice. Once from work and the second from when he picked me up from my jail cell. It was the least he could do after selling my stuff and oh...I don’t know...SENDING ME TO JAIL.“
Ashley didn’t believe you. “Right. Well, whatever happened between you two...It ends now. Or else I will keep making your life a living hell and destroy the lives of everyone around you.”
“Ashley, the last thing I want to do is see Yuta. I want to be a makeup artist and go back to the life I had before I met him.” Damn the connection you thought you two had. It would surely fade as quickly as it appeared.
Ashley began, “Which is why I have an opportunity for you.”
You frowned. “What?”
Ashley filed her nails as she spoke to you. “Timothée Chalamet’s new horror film begins production next month in Paris. There is an opening for the makeup team, y/n.”
You coughed. “What are you-“
She interrupted you, “Take the job and your name will be cleared. Your friends and family will be safe. Your dreams of becoming a successful makeup artist will come true...”
You knew she wasn’t finished so you waited for her to continue. She was so melodramatic.
“In return, you never come back to LA and leave Yuta alone forever,” Ashley said.
“I’ll have to come back to the city. You can’t ban me from visiting...That is, if I take the job,” you deliberated.
Ashley scoffed. “If?”
You sighed. “Ashley, LA is my home. It’s a big city.” You figured there had to be a way to compromise.
But you realized you were dealing with an unhinged diva.
Ashley said, “It’s a big city, sure. But as of now, every single person knows you as Yuta’s crazy stalker. It will stay that way if you don’t take this opportunity.”
You kept your mouth shut.
“I think I’m being pretty generous, all things considered,” she said as she flipped her bleached hair behind her shoulder. “You would be stupid to turn this down. Want to stay a jobless pariah? Be my guest.”
Your hands were tied. As much as you despised Ashley for making things so much worse for you, she had the answer to your problems. And since you were done with Yuta, agreeing to never see him again didn’t even feel like a big price to pay. And Timothée Chalamet was a mega Hollywood Star. Participating in his film would surely open doors for you. If Ashley kept her word to clear your name. And Paris? You’ve dreamed of going to Paris for years. Your grandmother told you incredible stories of when she studied abroad and lived there for a few years. It was a chance to be closer to her. The sightseeing and the art were enough to make you giddy.
You refused to let this girl drag your name through the mud and jeopardize your loved ones’ lives because they were associated with you. It wasn’t right. This way, everyone could win.
“Okay, you win,” you said.
“Actually, y/n, we both win,” she said as she clinked her glass of champagne at you and drank from it.
^_^
Ashley’s driver took you back to the apartment. When you unlocked the door to your place, you were shocked to see Yuta seated on the couch with Totoro on his lap.
“What are you doing here?” You asked.
Yuta shrugged. “You break into my house. I figured it’s only fair I break into yours.”
You sighed as you took your shoes off as you sat beside Yuta. Naturally, Totoro left Yuta’s lap to greet you.
He nodded. “Delilah let me in. I had to check up on you.”
Yuta kept in touch with your best friend without your knowledge. You realized that now. You’d have to talk to her about that later.
“Well, that’s nice and all but you have to leave,” you said as you averted your gaze from him.
Yuta ignored you. “Where did you go? I was worried sick.”
“I’m fine. I…went to an interview,” you said. There was no way you’d tell him about your meeting with Ashley. He had the mind to intervene and you didn’t want things to escalate any further.
He stared at you in disbelief. “What? For another job? y/n, I told you that you could come back to work with us.”
You shook your head. “If I so much as go to the same supermarket as you, there will be a bounty for my head.”
He shook his head. “The charges have been dropped, y/n. What happened today was…”
“The second of many hits to my career if we don’t stop this now,” you said.
Yuta replied, “y/n-“
“Which brings me to this…Did you get my necklace back?” You asked. If he said no, then you had the ammunition to kick him out. If he somehow got your necklace back…you would have to get even meaner.
Yuta’s face fell. “No, y/n…I reached out to the buyer and they haven’t responded.” He wondered if the buyer already sold it for more or if the buyer was biding his time to ask Yuta for money. “I traced the buyer’s address but they disappeared without a trace. I am so sorry.”
You sighed. “Okay.” You got up from the sofa and headed for the door. “Then, I guess that’s all that needs to be said.” You opened it and motioned for him to leave.
Yuta got up from the couch. “y/n, please we can fix this. As crazy as this sounds, I think I’m falling-“
You stopped him. “Yuta, we can’t. You need to go. You can’t get caught in this complex again. For your safety. And if you care at all about mine.”
Yuta froze. “I will do everything I can to clear your name. Please give me time.”
You couldn’t respond to his sweet voice. You had to resist. As much as you denied it, you felt something for Yuta. From the moment you heard his song “Breeze”, you connected with him before you even met him. His hard work, his talent, his sense of humor, his admiration of your work, his way with words with you before everything went to shit, even the way Totoro gravitated towards him. There was something special about him. Given other circumstances, you would’ve considered exploring a friendship with him. But even that was out of the question. “Goodbye, Yuta.”
He slowly walked out the door and looked back at you. His captivating brown eyes trying to pull you in again but this time, they were full of hurt and longing.
You shut the door, not waiting for him to walk away.
^_^
A couple of days have passed as Yuta reached out to multiple media outlets to clear your name. He admitted that he accidentally sold your necklace. Unfortunately, he couldn’t explain exactly how he’d come into possession of your necklace. So he said the best thing he could come up with: a family friend bought it at a garage sale and thought he might like to have it. Yuta started the account 1026you to sell the items he found around his home in order to raise funds for the LA LGBT Center. Aside from his regular donations from his earnings, Yuta thought he could sell your stuff to make some extra cash for the organization. Had he known that these random items belonged to you he wouldn’t have done that. Which begged the question:
How is it that you lived all the way across town and your stuff just magically appeared in his house? And why?
It seemed like some kind of divine intervention, if anyone asked him. For you two were connected and he only wanted to grow closer to you.
Except now he couldn’t. He failed to get your necklace. You were still blacklisted no matter what he said to multiple companies. He was thankful that you were still able to get an interview like you told him. He wondered if that company hired you. He hoped you were doing well.
Rehearsals for Skylark’s LA shows were still underway. Lily was rehired and Yuta apologized to her for being so rude. The dressing room wasn’t as lighthearted as it’d been when you were around. It was a short time that you were there but he missed you so much.
With Yuta’s heartache, he used music as an outlet. He thought about the night he first taught you how to play the guitar. There was one melody that lingered in his mind every day since. Now he took his time to work the song out of his mind. It was a song that you inspired him to write and he knew it was his best work. He hoped he could play it for you soon.
Yuta missed Totoro’s presence in his home. He didn’t realize how lonely he was until he lost you and your cat. Ashley popped in every day, insisting she stay over. So he begged his sister Suzuka to let him babysit her cat Thorn. Yuta claimed it was out of his hands to babysit Thorn so Ashley stayed less frequently.
Yuta drank a cup of green tea at his kitchen island. He had the day off before his solo press conference. His management wanted him to promote his album but he would also take the opportunity to clear your name.
He pleaded with his agency to let him cut ties with Ashley but Ashley’s agency wouldn’t budge. If Yuta broke up with Ashley, then Ashley’s agency would cut ties with Sky High Entertainment.
He hoped to convince Ashley to cut ties with him today. It was almost as if she was avoiding the conversation as the minute she came in, she ran into the bathroom to take a bubble bath.
“Yuta! Can you be a doll and rub this shower gel on my back?” She asked suggestively.
Yuta knew she was trying to get him in bed so he wouldn’t be able to think straight. These days Ashley seemed more repulsive than usual. Yuta was getting tired.
“No!” Yuta yelled outside the door. “When you finish up, meet me in the living room.”
She didn’t respond right away. She lowered her voice. “Okay…”
Another hour went by and Yuta still waited in the living room. Ashley was avoiding him. He was fed up and he went to look for her. Surely, she’d be out of the bath now. She couldn’t afford to let her skin prune for that long.
He overheard her laughing in his bedroom. “I gotta tell you, Melissa. You should’ve seen the look on her face when I picked her up from that ghetto apartment complex.”
Melissa laughed over the phone. Yuta recognized those nails on a chalkboard from whenever his band had a fan meeting. Melissa Lee, his fanclub president. Yuta frowned and tiptoed as quietly as he could.
Ashley continued, “All I had to do was offer her a job in Paris. Frankly, I’m being way too nice for my own good.”
Melissa replied, “Well, at least you got her out of Yuta’s perfectly shampooed hair.”
“That I did. So when are you going to post the YutAsh tribute video to your website?” Ashley asked as she fell onto Yuta’s bed.
Paris? What the hell did Ashley do?
He remembered how you were unaccounted for that day he went to see you. She said you had an interview. It was interesting how this interview fell on the exact same day those photos of you leaving his car were leaked. Who followed you two that day?
Of course, it was Ashley. Yuta realized how stupid he’d been. She’d basically conspired against you right under his nose. And he was furious.
But he had to be strategic. There was only one way he wanted to take Ashley down. And it would be in the way that hurt most.
^_^
Yuta’s press conference was at The Grove. Hundreds of fans were lined up from the night before. The media was in a frenzy. Your members and team were also in attendance so this was the talk of the town.
The announcer called you in. “Ladies and gentleman: Yuta Nakamoto.”
Yuta, in a gray custom-made business suit, radiated elegance and lethality, which many of his fans said was his unique charm.
Yuta got up to the podium and adjusted the microphone as he spoke into it. “Hello, I’m here to announce the release date of my first solo mini album.”
The crowd roared while the cameras flashed. There was a lot of talking from the journalists in the front.
He smirked. He was ready to give them something to talk about.
“The album comes out July 15th. Ashley and I have been fake dating and I’m here to say that it’s over.”
The crowd was in an uproar. The press yelled out questions. Yuta’s team was full of mixed reactions. His bandmates cheered and laughed. Baekhyun looked panicked. The company executives looked paler than they’ve ever been.
Ashley, who couldn’t have been more obvious as she gossiped with Melissa, almost fell over in her Jimmy Choos.
Yuta laughed. “I’ll take a few questions.” He pointed to a representative from Teen Scene Weekly.
“Yuta, is your breakup with Ashley because of y/n?” They asked.
Yuta sighed. “First off, Ashley and I dated to strengthen our respective companies. We were friends. We had a good time. For a while now, I’ve wanted to cut ties with her but out of respect for my company, I held on a little longer…However, after I politely asked for a breakup, I was denied. Now tell me…do you think that’s fair? After everything Skylark has given to the company? That we get used this way? I’m fed up with it.”
Yuta knew he only had a minute at most before he was pulled off the stage. Ashley yelled out, “Yuta, please stop!”
He continued, “Which brings me to y/n. She never did anything wrong. As I have gone on record to say twenty times in the past week, she never stole from me. She lost her necklace along with other possessions. Friends and family got these possessions for me from garage sales. That’s all I know. y/n is innocent. I made a huge mistake by having her arrested. She is an excellent makeup artist. One of the best in the business. I should know because I’ve been in this industry for seven years now. So if you’ve blacklisted her, then the joke’s on you. Because she has more talent than most of your employed artists ever hope to have. Lastly, to answer your question…y/n is not the other woman. She never was. I started falling for her but I never acted on it. Until now.”
The crowd was in a frenzy. A lot of the fans were crying and it made Yuta wonder if he had any true fans at all. If they cared so much about who he dated, then they didn’t see him as anything else other than their property.
Skylark’s security guards went to pull Yuta off the stage but he walked out on his own with his hands up in surrender. The guards escorted him to his car.
Yuta got into the driver’s seat and nearly screamed at seeing Ashley in the passenger seat.
“What the fuck?” He demanded.
“I had extra copies of your car keys made,” she said like she knit him a pair of mittens.
“Get out,” Yuta said with clenched teeth.
“You ruined me, Mr. Nakamoto. How are you going to make it up to me?” She asked. Her eyeliner ran down her cheeks. Her critically acclaimed face made her look like the wicked witch from Snow White.
Yuta laughed humorlessly. “I don’t owe you anything, Ash. You ruined y/n’s life and pushed her away from me. You knew I never loved you so why? Why keep this charade up?”
“We need each other We are perfect together. With your music and your bone structure and my beauty and me being a triple threat, we would be unstoppable. We can only help each other. Why can’t you see that?” She traced her fingers over his chest.
“I’ve heard enough. Please leave before I call security,” Yuta said in a low voice.
“Security?” Ashley scoffed. “Fuck off. No one calls security on me.”
Yuta rolled his eyes, already having dialed Tom, one of the security guards. “Yeah, Yuta?” He asked.
“Come back. Ashley broke into my car,” Yuta said quickly.
Ashley grabbed his phone. “Yuta! What have you done?”
Yuta sighed. “What I should’ve done a long time ago.”
He unlocked the door as the guards came running over to pull Ashley out of the car. She put up a good fight but the guards successful got her out.
She yelled out, “Well, you’re too late! Her flight to Paris leaves in a couple of hours.”
Thankful that Ashley always had a big mouth, Yuta backed away from the scene and raced to the airport.
^_^
You were on the plane, happy to have the row to yourself. You had to find some joy somehow. It wasn’t like you were being exiled from your hometown.
Totoro stayed with your mom. Once the shoot finished, you would get him back so you can relocate from LA. It still hurt to leave everyone.
Yangyang and Delilah agreed to move in together so he could save on rent and she wouldn’t have to pay for the apartment by herself. But you had a feeling there was something they weren’t telling you. You couldn’t wait for updates from both of them.
In a matter of eleven hours, you would be at the Charles de Gaulle airport, ready to embark on a new chapter in your life. You put your earbuds in and put your music on shuffle. The first song from the shuffle was ironically “Your Type” by Carly Rae Jepsen. It was a song about unrequited love and you were tempted to skip. Instead, you chose to wallow.
As much as you suppressed it, a part of you held onto thoughts of Yuta. Losing your possessions and finding them in Yuta’s place. You were both confused. Part of you wondered if there was something paranormal about it all. Maybe paranormal wasn’t the right word. Maybe…something magical?
Even so, too much damage had been done for you two to return to the friendship you had for a such a short but sweet time. And Ashley drove an even larger wedge between you two by threatening you. As much as Yuta frustrated you with everything else, you were even more frustrated that he was still with her. If it was fake, why did he keep it up? Didn’t he want to be with someone he loved?
Well, it wasn’t your problem. He was a big boy. He should be able to handle problems like this since he talked such a big game all the time.
So irritating, you thought, but also irritatingly cute.
Unbeknownst to you, there was a commotion on the plane.
“Sir, your seat is in 5A. Come back here!” A flight attendant yelled.
“y/n!” Yuta yelled as he ran down the aisle looking for you. He wore a large beanie and sunglasses so no one could recognize him.
The passengers looked alarmed at the disguised man yelling frantically. Yuta realized screaming wouldn’t help his case so he scoped out for you.
And then he saw you.
Your face was made up but you still looked like you lost many hours of sleep the past few nights. But still, you were the most stunning creature he’d ever laid his eyes on. Your eyelashes brushed against your cheeks as you slept. Your lips slightly parted and Yuta bit his lip.
The flight attendant caught up to him. “Sir-“
Yuta raised his finger and nodded towards you.
The flight attendant calmed down. “You’re assigned to 5A. Why are you all the way back here?”
“Can I switch with whoever is supposed to sit here?” He asked.
The attendant frowned. “Why would you want to-“
“Please,” Yuta pleaded, “Sitting towards the front freaks me out.”
The attendant sighed. “Well, sir, you’re the last one on the plane so that seat appears to be available. Go ahead.”
Yuta smiled genuinely. “Thank you.”
The attendant was stunned and she had a feeling she recognized him. She shrugged it off and resumed her duties to get everyone situated on the plane.
Yuta exhaled in relief as he sat beside you. You looked so cute curled up in your chair but also very uncomfortable. He was tempted to offer you his shoulder but that would ruin the surprise.
Half an hour went by and you turned to your right to see the seat had been occupied by someone in glasses and a beanie. So much for having the row to yourself, you thought.
The stranger beside you said, “Morning, sleepyhead.”
You frowned as you opened your eyes more. “Hi…?”
But when you sat up, you saw his piercings and the curve of his lips. “Yuta?” You whisper-yelled.
He flashed his perfect set of teeth at you as he lowered his glasses. “Hey.”
You laughed in disbelief. “What are you-“
Yuta shrugged casually. “I felt like a trip to Paris.”
“Right…Who told you?” You asked. You dropped your defenses. For now.
“Surprisingly, it was Ashley. She may be a schemer but she’s never been the sharpest tool in the shed.”
You looked at him, noticing how disheveled he looked. He was soaked in sweat. He must have ran through the airport to catch this flight.
“Why are you so sweaty?” You asked.
“I ran,” Yuta said as he realized he must have looked as gross as he felt. And taking off his beanie was almost out of the question since his fuchsia hair dye made him stick out like a sore thumb.
You felt for him so you pulled some wipes from your bag and gave them to him. “That beanie looks uncomfortable so take this.” You handed him a cap instead. It was a Dodgers cap.
“Thanks,” Yuta said as he swapped the beanie for his hat and cleaned himself up.
“Well, good night again,” you said as you turned to the window and shut your eyes.
“I’m sorry, what?” He asked. He mistook your acts for kindness for wanting to talk to him.
“We’re done here, aren’t we?” You asked. “You shouldn’t have come.”
“y/n, I…You can’t move to Paris,” he started.
“I accepted the position, Yuta. I can’t go back from an obligation.” You turned away from him and stared out the window. The attendants were giving their airplane safety spiel. You know you were about to ascend. “Unless you have a schedule in Paris, then you should leave. Before you’re stuck on this flight.”
“There’s no place I’d rather be, y/n,” he said softly.
His voice sent shivers down your spine but you pushed your feelings down. You couldn’t let him get to you. “You hurt me.” You let it out. Maybe if you kept this up, he would leave you alone.
Yuta sighed. “I know and I’m so sorry.”
Upon hearing him apologize, you perked up but you chose to keep your back turned.
Yuta went on to say, “I screwed up. Getting you arrested, fired, and hated by everyone. I screwed up even more by selling your grandma’s necklace. And I hate that I couldn’t get it back. More than anything. I know what Ashley did to you. It was wrong of her. She had no right. I finally broke up with her. In front of everyone.”
You turned to him, worried about the repercussions of the break up. “By everyone, you don’t mean…”
“At my press conference…”
You put a hand to your mouth in shock. “Ashley must be furious.” What did this mean for you now? What if Ashley retracted the offer and then you were truly left without a job or a home?
Yuta chuckled. “Don’t tell me you’re worried about that witch.”
You shook your head. “If you broke up with her, then she’s on the warpath.”
Yuta replied, “She’ll find another big name to terrorize soon enough. I’m close to contract termination anyway.”
You gaped. “What?”
“At the conference, I told everyone that Ashley and I were a fake couple. I broke up with her and then…I told everyone how I felt about you. I really like you, y/n,” He turned bashful, putting his hands in pant pockets.
“Yuta, are you crazy?”
He didn’t expect that response.
“How could you jeopardize your career for me? You barely even know me. Sure, we shared pizza and…we had a moment when you taught me guitar…But that’s not enough reason to put everything on the line.”
“y/n, you don’t understand. I feel like we really know each other. I can’t explain it,” he said, “Why do you think it is that your stuff kept popping up at my place? There’s some sort of cosmic connection between us. That’s not something we can ignore.”
He thought the same way you had about the things you lost and later found. But you were scared. Ashley made you a human target and you knew you could end this stress by leaving. You didn’t want to jeopardize anyone you loved.
You didn’t even want to jeopardize Yuta. Especially since he just risked his entire career for you.
“Yuta, we can’t. Being with me will ruin your career,” you said. The plane started moving across the tarmac.
“y/n…”
Now you two were stuck on the plane. You weren’t planning to budge and you prayed that when you landed in Paris that Yuta would catch the next flight back to LA.
Hours passed. You were so exhausted that you nearly fell asleep the entire plane ride.
Apparently, so was Yuta. You woke up finding yourself leaning against his shoulder and his neck was nuzzled against the top of your head. He still smelled like roses and vanilla, even after working up a sweat to get onto the plane. He was a fool, you thought to yourself.
But you were an even bigger fool because you didn’t remove yourself from him.
The pilot announced overhead, “Ladies and gentleman, welcome to Paris. Bienvenue à Paris.”
You realized you’d been awake too long and hadn’t moved away quickly. You felt Yuta move so you pretended to have just woken up from the announcement. You quickly pulled away from him. Yuta rubbed his neck and watched you.
You left the plane with Yuta trailing behind you. You picked up your bags at baggage claim. Yuta grabbed one of your bags.
“Yuta, it’s fine. I have this,” you said as you pointed to the luggage cart.
Yuta relented and helped you put your bags on the cart.
He followed you to the arrivals section where drivers had their posters with the names of people they were picking up. You saw your name and identified yourself with the driver. The driver helped you with your luggage.
“Bye, Yuta,” you said quickly, not about to linger. You turned away when he took your hand.
“y/n, please…” He begged.
“Take care, okay?” You said as you pulled your hand away and caught up with your driver.
Heartbroken but unrelenting, Yuta was about to follow you when someone pulled his hat off.
“Oh my God, it’s Yuta! C’est Yuta. Skylark!” A girl yelled.
Yuta ran for cover, the gears shifting in his head for his next move with you.
^_^
It’s a few days later that you finally get to explore Paris. You haven’t heard a word from the fuchsia-haired boy, but you were trying to get over him anyway so you didn’t mind.
You had to realize that at the end of the day, he had his devoted army of fans and you..only had yourself. He didn’t need you, so surely he’d forget about you soon enough. You two had only known each other for a short time, regardless of it feeling like an eternity.
You breathe a sigh of relief when you get to the Eiffel Tower. It’s kinda cold, but the dreamy sunset draws in.
When you felt a sudden gust of wind, you closed your eyes and remembered Yuta’s warm chest on your back, the way his long fingers comforted and guided yours on the stiff strings of the guitar. His breath dancing along your ear while you shivered and felt goosebumps expose themselves.
The echoing bass in his voice that hit your heart..and other places too.
The sun was slowly retreating from the sky, but it was still bright..as bright as his smile, you missed it, even when he only showed it during his sarcastic, asshole moments.
His lips so full and soft, even the brush you used over them had a difficult time coloring to perfect something that didn’t need perfecting.
Ashley was one lucky girl. It was only a matter of time until she and Yuta got back together.
You looked to the ground and sighed. Why did you have to think of him? Even when one of the most beautiful pieces of art towered over you.
You couldn’t shake the feeling that you were missing something so great in your life now. The connection you felt with him hit you like a train and there was nothing that could compare to it. It was so strong, it could probably compete with the earth’s gravitational pull to your body.
“Yuta..I hate you, I really do.” You whispered to yourself as you clutched your long jacket around your body. You tried to convince yourself that this was true so that you’d finally be at peace. Key word: tried.
In the front of the Eiffel Tower was a board that read the rules, opening times etc.
“Le Jules Vernes Restaurant..’closed tonight for a special event..damn it.” You had planned on treating yourself to a meal at the top of the Eiffel Tower so you could take in the view as long as some fresh air. But lucky for you, it was closed for that evening.
You licked your lips and sighed.
Would you ever have things go your way?
You were about to walk away when you heard a speaker being plugged in. The feedback was obnoxiously painful and loud, and got everyone’s attention. You all turned to see the source.
A guitar riff played soon after and you heard a chorus of whispers from people on the lawn.
“Oh my God..OH MY GOD ITS YUTA NAKAMOTO FROM SKYLARK!” A girl screams as she runs past you with another girl in hand, just barely holding on.
Shit.
You squint your eyes to look at the person that a crowd begins to form around and sure enough, it is your nemesis with the pink hair. He’s smiling widely and saying ‘hi’ to everyone as his bodyguards put their arms out to stop anyone from getting too close. His guitar is in his hands and his microphone has already been set up.
“Time to go back to the hotel.”
You turn and start to brush past all the people running to see Yuta perform.
“Yuta?! What is he doing here?”
“Holy shit! Yuta is about to perform for us!”
“Yuta from Skylark? Aren’t they about to go on tour?”
You overhear some of the comments and the last thing you want is for them to realize who you are, the infamous “crazy stalker,” so you duck and push through.
You don’t feel his eyes peering the crowd and eventually locking into your body as you walk away. His smile fades and he realizes he has to act quickly.
He strums out one chord on the guitar and the girls go into a frenzy.
“This song..is for someone that just entered my life. It’s only been a few weeks, but she’s changed it for the better. She knows me more than anyone else does and I honestly don’t know how I lived without her before.”
Yuta speaks into the microphone, making the growing crowd of listeners go silent.
You slow your pace but still don’t turn around. There’s no way he could be talking about you.
“Who is he talking about? Didn’t he just break up with Ashley?” You hear a few girls whisper.
“She doesn’t know it yet, but I don’t plan on living without her anymore..she makes my head spin, she makes me forget the words to songs that I’ve sung everyday for the past 3 years, she gives me the WORST case of butterflies...she truly is a nuisance, but I need her. y/n..”
You stop in your tracks and stare at the grass below your planted feet.
“Please don’t go..” Yuta’s eyes are wide, he just needs you to turn around and look at him, to give him a second chance.
The people turn to follow his line of vision, eventually seeing your body standing alone and far away.
“Oh my god it’s her.” They whisper.
You start to walk again when you hear the whispering yet overwhelming gossip. You’re just so tired of all of the attention you’ve been getting. Yuta was trying to make some grand statement to get you back, but he didn’t realize that this was the opposite of what you wanted.
“She’s like the rain on summer days when the garden needs some nurturing...” Yuta strums his guitar and sings.
“She’s like a constellation of stars, oh she’s beautiful, and very gorgeous to me.”
You’re still walking but he continues.
“But I don’t even know her name, I only see her in a frame, yet her face is stuck in my mind..she’s the girl in the portrait, the girl with the necklace..the girl with my heart, but the girl I don’t know..I could give her the world, but it’s not like she needs it from me. She’s a work of art, she’s the only thing I see.”
You stop again, this time turning around to finally face him.
“No one knows me like you do, yes, you see the right through..and I know you won’t forgive me, I just hope you won’t forget me..because I know I’ll be thinking of you, yes you, the girl in the portrait.”
Your eyes start to tear up. The Mountain Man, the singer you so adored had written a song about you. And the melody was just as charming as his other songs. Were you that important to him that he created this song for you?
You stood there frozen as ice and stunned, with a thousand eyes on you.
“That was The Girl In the Portrait, I wrote it for y/n, because, well, it’s a funny story actually.” Yuta said as he put his guitar down and stood up. The crowd chuckled and clapped but people were still focused on you and waiting for your reaction.
This was one level above a public proposal and you didn’t know how to feel about it.
“Please..” Yuta said quietly.
You cursed silently. Your heart felt weak and you couldn’t just turn away like your conscious told you to. Your heart told you to forgive him and start over.
Yuta went all the way to Paris for you, he wrote a song for you and ditched his first tour date. He did it all for you. If that didn’t show his sincerity towards you, you weren’t sure what would.
‘I Hate You’ you mouthed before smiling.
Yuta ran towards you abruptly, making his bodyguards scurry behind him to push his fans away from him, they struggled to keep up as he dashed like Bolt towards you.
You braced yourself for impact from the 6-foot something man about to collide into you.
Yuta’s teeth showed brightly as he held out his arms and wrapped them around you. Wrinkles formed at the sides of his eyes.
He’s so filled with excitement, he lifts you three feet about the grace and bends backward.
“Yuta!” You laugh out at the sudden move, but he chuckles and brings you back down.
You breathed in his amazing scent before closing your eyes and adoring his warmth. You felt so at ease in his arms, everything faded away. The cries as well as cheers from his fans soon faded into the background. You rested your head in his chest and exhaled.
You lifted your limp arms that were once at your side and wrapped them around him while he rubbed your back. Having you in his arms tonight made it feel like Christmas Day. He never wanted it to end. Even with all the people staring and all the phones recording, he didn’t want this moment to end. He prayed that you would stay in his arms forever, for you were the only thing that made him feel comfortable and happy. You did for him what music could no longer do.
“y/n...”
“Mhmm?” you hummed, your eyes still closed while you enjoyed his embrace.
“I want to kiss you..”
Your neck nearly snapped when you looked up at him.
“What?” Your eyes widened.
“But not here..up there..will you let me?”
Yuta smirked and tilted his head towards the tower.
“Nice try, user 1026you, the restaurant is closed tonight.”
“For a special event, I know...that’s why it’ll just be me and you.” Yuta chuckled when your brows furrowed.
“Yuta..”
“I’d give you the world if you let me.” Yuta grew serious as he searched your eyes and swallowed hard. He ignored the fact that his bodyguards were having an increasingly difficult time with holding back his fans.
The two of you were surrounded by complete madness, but you felt alone..lost in each other’s eyes.
Your mouth was open slightly, you couldn’t believe that he actually booked the entire restaurant just for the two of you.
“So..You gonna let me give you a night in Paris to remember?”
You laughed and Yuta felt his chest weaken by the sight of your smile.
“You owe me big time..”
Yuta’s teeth twinkled. “We gotta run, ready?”
He took your hand and the two of you hustled to the entrance of the Eiffel Tower.
His fans ran after you two while you laughed and held onto each other tightly.
Everything happened in slow motion, the two of you moved like runaway lovers, chaos surrounded you but it didn’t matter, for you had each other. You looked over to see Yuta’s goofy smile.
The tour guide at the entrance was able to quickly let you in and close the door behind you to stop anyone else from following.
You found the elevator and got on.
Once at the top, you let go of Yuta’s hand to walk around and see the magnificent view. A million tiny lights decorated the streets of Paris. It was darker outside now, but you could still see the large crowd that surrounded the tower start to dissipate.
They looked like ants below you, slowly dispersing from the ants nest to get more food.
You were so stunned by the view, you didn’t notice that Yuta was watching you, your eyes gazing in amazement, your hair blowing softly in the wind and your bright smile that made even the moon seem bleak.
“y/n..” he called your name. There was something he wanted to see.
You turned to look at him over your shoulder.
“Yeah?”
And there it was. The pose from the portrait. You glancing over your shoulder so intensely. Your eyes large with wonder, your lips full and slightly parted, your hair shining in the moonlight. You are beautiful, Yuta can’t describe it, but he knows he is happy to be able to see an artwork come to life.
“Yuta?” You turned to him full and walked over. “What’s wrong? You’re staring again” you giggled.
“I’m happy.” Yuta smiles and looks down at you.
“Well, we’re in Paris at the Eiffel Tower! Of course you’re happy.” You chuckled and turned to look out at the city from a different angle, but Yuta took your hand in his and spun you around.
You tripped and fell onto his chest before looking up into his eyes.
“No...I’m happy because I’m with you.”
He whispered and your body felt weak. Luckily, he was holding you up so you could balance yourself.
He held you close and looked onto your lips which were just a few inches from yours. His breath slowed to match yours, you look into his lips and swallow hard.
“Y-Yuta.”
He leaned forward, placing a small kiss on your lips. Your eyes closed, his kiss made you feel like fireworks had been set off right there in your chest. It was magical even though it only lasted for a second.
Yuta was nervous, he wasn’t sure if you were ready. You held his head in your hands and looked into his eyes.
You then kissed him hard while tilting your head to the side. Yuta finally relaxes in your hands and kisses you back, opening his mouth so that he could lick your top lip.
His lips were fluffy and felt exactly like how you imagined them to feel. Silky, smooth. Even as he pressed harder, you couldn’t help but feel fragile like you’d collapse at any moment, your legs threatening to give out at any moment.
Soon, your tongues found each other and playfully danced while you struggled to keep your breathing stable.
Time slows down once again as you kiss for what feels to be days.
Yuta draws small circles and lines on your back as he pushes your body into his more. He wants more, so much more. He wants to feel you everywhere, and he can’t get enough of your touch, the way your dainty fingers play with the hair on the nape of his neck.
But you have to pull away to breathe.
“Wow..you could’ve gone on for days, couldn’t you?” You try to catch your breath as you look up at him.
Yuta smirks. “I’m a singer, it’s called breath control.”
You rolled your eyes. “It’S cALleD BrEATh coNtRoL.” You mocked him.
The two of you laughed. Yuta took your hand to guide you to a table that had been set for the two of you.
It was weird being so high above the rest of the world. But you liked it. It was just you and Yuta. Nothing else. There was no Ashley, no fans, and no drama.
Yuta rubbed his reddened lips with two fingers.
“Let’s hurry up and eat..I want to finish what you started.”
“What I started? Sir, I recall you being the one that started that kiss!”
“Nah you gave me those eyes..” Yuta was teasing you again.
You rolled your eyes and sat back in your chair.
When you finished eating, you looked into the city again and felt an internal peace. There was something so comforting about being away from the madness. Yeah, your life wasn’t what it was two months ago, but you sure as hell felt all the madness was worth it.
Getting Yuta was worth it.
You leaned forward, placing your jaw on your hands.
“What are you thinking about?
Yuta watched your eyes searching the city again. The moonlight and single candle lit on the table brought out your smooth skin even more, as well as the outline of your nose and lips. He could watch you all night.
“I like the view,” you answered softly.
“You do?” Yuta’s brows raised.
“Yes..” you nodded.
“You’re my best view..” Yuta smiled widely.
You blushed. “Ehh.. I don’t know about that line.”
“Okay how about this one?
“I wish you didn’t have a name..so I could call you mine?” Yuta leaned forward to match your pose and place his head on his hands.
“Oh no..it’s getting worse.” You held your face in your hands, feeling the heat in your cheeks rise. You’re both a little tipsy from the alcohol you had at dinner.
“Are you from Paris? Because Ei-FELL for you..” he smirked and took your hands in yours so he could see you blush.
You laughed and melted into your seat. “Oh God, Yuta make it stop.”
“Okay, okay I’ll stop..but before we leave, I have something to give you.”
You sat up straight and gave a puzzled look.
“I’m sorry again about your grandmother’s necklace. I tried..I even called up your hacker friend YangYang for help, but he couldn’t find it either..I’m so sorry. I know I can never make up for that.”
Your face straightened and you blinked slowly as the reality settled in that you would never see your grandmother’s necklace again.
“But..I did get you this..I hope her memory can still live on through this..”
Yuta reaches into his pocket and hands a small box. When you open it you find a gold necklace with a shining stone surrounded by small pearls as the pendant . The resemblance between it and your missing necklace is strikingly similar. Your mouth falls open.
“My grandmother’s necklace was the only one of its kind...how..how in the world did you find this?”
You looked closely to see that the one difference was the stone in the center.
“I searched online and went to a few antique stores and met this strange lady..what was her name again? Was it Celeste or Cerulean? Hmm..wait! It was Cyan! Yeah I showed her a picture and she found it in her store for me.”
“Yuta..that’s amazing.”
And that’s when you realized what the color of the center stone was. It’s not purple, nor red. Not pink, nor magenta..no it’s..fuchsia.
Yuta was your soulmate..that’s why your things were disappearing. The universe was pushing you to him. You were destined to meet and fall in love. How could you not realize it sooner? That’s why you felt this undeniable pull towards him.
“What’s wrong?” Yuta grows concerned when he sees your eyes start to tear up.
“Nothing..nothing..it’s perfect, Yuta.” You decided not to tell Yuta because you couldn’t really explain it. Things were finally falling into place and you just wanted to spend time with him, for you didn’t know if you’d have the chance to be with him again..in this universe..or in another one.
“Let’s go home.” Yuta kneeled down and wiped your tears with his finger.
————
Yuta helps you out of the limo once you get to your luxurious hotel. He had the driver take you to a back entrance so his fans wouldn’t see the two of you.
“Thank you.” You let go of his hand and are about to start walking but Yuta grabs your waist and throws you over his shoulder. You yelp out in surprise. Your ass is in the air as you dangle over him.
“Ahh!! Yuta!”
“Shhh we came through the back for a reason.” Yuta chuckles then gives your ass a hard smack with his hand.
“Ahh! Damn it, Yuta!”
You lay out a string of curse words as Yuta gets into the elevator. He only smiles while strangers stare and wonder what in the world is going on.
When you get to the room, Yuta flips you from his shoulder and onto the bed. You plop down and feel your body bounce back up from the plush mattress.
“I swear to-“ you start but Yuta leans down over you, attacking your lips as soon as you open them to make some snarky comment.
He liked hearing you talk back to him, but he liked kissing you even more.
You lick his bottom lip, then kiss his lips again, enjoying the way both of your lips grow wet from each other.
He was just as playful with his tongue, letting it place kitten licks on the soft surface of your lips, he kissed softly, teasingly. It was almost ticklish. You felt your chest rumble.
You closed your eyes and traced your hands up Yuta’s back, pressing him into you more.
The bitter taste of alcohol stayed on your lips and your head felt light, you both felt like you were getting drunk all over again.
Yuta presses into you more, running his hands along your sides before holding your face as he guides the passionate kiss.
You pushed your body upwards and grinded onto Yuta, feeling his member poke through his jeans. You placed a finger into his belt loop, pulling him downwards. You then wrapped your legs around his waist and crossed them over his back to bring his body closer to yours even more.
Yuta took the hint and pushed into you slowly, grinding his covered member against your covered, but increasingly wet entrance.
You moaned into his mouth when you felt him press onto your weak spot teasingly. You trembled under him, hands shaking as they clawed at his back lightly.
It felt like a bouquet of flowers were slowly opening up in Yuta’s chest. You were the most beautiful melody, the graceful echo of godly chords being played in a church organ, you were the angelic singing heard all the way from heaven. That’s what you felt like to Yuta. And he had to write about you, he had a hundred songs already in mind to write about you.
He prayed that you wouldn’t stop kissing him this time, that you wouldn’t have to pull away to breathe.
He didn’t know that you felt the same way, that he felt like a day at Disney that you didn’t want to end. He felt like a birthday surprise happening over and over and over. He was the glass of water after a long run. He made you feel euphoric just from an embrace like this. With the two of you finally being alone together, it was like the stars had collided to create something so beautiful, extraordinary and new.
But still, you were scared. Now that you found your soulmate, would he disappear? What if this was your last night in this universe? You couldn’t remember anything about your life before, but you knew that you were somewhere else before all of this.
And could something this good last? Were you really away from all of your troubles?
You were deep in your thoughts and without realizing, you kissed Yuta so hard, you accidentally bit his bottom lip.
Yuta pulled away. “Are you okay? Do you want me to stop?” He rubbed the blood from his lip, eyes growing wide.
“N-no, Yuta..I’m sorry. It’s just..” you swallowed hard then licked your lips.
“What if..this is it? What if we won’t be together after tonight?”
You played with the collar of his shirt to distract yourself.
Yuta tilted his head then placed his hands on either side of your head to hold himself up.
“y/n..I don’t plan on letting you go..ever. You make me feel..” Yuta didn’t know how to describe it either.
“Amazing.” But that wasn’t enough, it was much more than that. So much more. No word in the entire dictionary could suffice for the feeling he had.
“And if the universe allows..It won’t be the last night. It’ll just be the first of many.” He gave you a wink. “What do you say? Let’s give it a try?”
You nodded and licked your lips.
“And uh..how far do you want to go because I..” Yuta looked down at your linked bodies.
You blushed when you realized what he was looking at. It was the outline of his member sticking out in his jeans and aiming towards the apex of your legs.
You thought about the chances of this being your first and last night together, and knew you wanted to experience it with Yuta. If just kissing him made you euphoric, how would making love feel?
You nodded. “I want you to make love to me Yuta, love me like it’s the last time.” You rubbed his flexed biceps and he grew weak. The combination of your gentle touch and doe eyes while those sweet words left your mouth made him feel like he’d lost all feeling in his legs.
“It won’t be the last time, but it will probably be the best time since we’re in the city of romance. Don’t expect too much from me when we do this again, okay?”
You nodded, giggling as you held his belt again. He glanced down at your hands as they fiddled around.
He chuckled then looked back up at you. “Is your name Paris, because I think my Eiffel Tower belongs in you?”
“Yuta!! I swear to G-“ you started again, but he quickly placed his mouth on yours, taking the air as it left and circling your top lip with the tip of his tongue.
You both ran out of patience, taking each other’s lips in between your teeth. You shimmy out of your jacket and Yuta tosses it to the side. You tug the hem of his black t-shirt and help him take it off over his head, his hair becoming rustled in the process but it gives him a cute, messy look. You can’t help but laugh.
Yuta smirks and rubs his hands up and down your thighs while gazing into your eyes, pressing into the soft squishy skin to massage them.
You bite your swollen lips, knowing that he’s watching your chest rise up and down under him.
“I could stare at you all night.” He whispers.
“I know..but I want you to make love to me first.” You say as you start to unbutton your blouse.
Yuta watches your fingers play with the buttons, allowing for several inches of your skin to be revealed each time. He licks his lips but waits for you to finish and reveal yourself to him, gripping the crook of your knees while he waits.
“Yuta..” you breathlessly call out his name before biting your lips. Your voice makes him dizzy, he wants to hear you say his name over and over again like a broken record, because you just sound so..heavenly. No song could compare.
He leans forward, placing his hands on yours and gripping the bow separated fabric. And it’s like he’s opening his curtains to see a bright, sunny day after a scary thunderstorm.
He opens it slowly, staring at the small space between your breasts that he wants to decorate so badly.
You stare at his neck and then his abs, all the places you want to kiss passionately while listening to his low groans.
Yuta takes the sleeves of the shirt down your arms, his fingertips lightly touching your skin but still leaving an intense rush flowing through your veins.
You lock eyes as he tosses it to the side with the jacket.
He lowers his head to your chest and breathes over it, leaving a steamy breath over your nipple. You shiver under him and let out a moan.
“Yuta..” You arch your back, desperate to feel him on you. Having him inches away from your skin just isn’t enough, especially when he’s shirtless and daunts his stunning body over yours.
But Yuta doesn’t respond. He licks your nipple and looks up to see you tremble once again. He can feel the response from your body under him even though he’s not touching you.
“Please..” you put your hand onto his back and rub it softly to push him along.
He kisses in between your breasts, then sucks hard, biting the skin to leave a mark.
You cry out his name again, this time, your fingers going through his thick hair as he moves on to suck your nipple.
He presses his tongue firmly and flat against it, then pleases a sloppy kiss onto it.
He massages your other breast while his mouth continues to work on the first, sucking hard so he can hear you say his name once again. He circles around the areola with the tip of his tongue at a pace so slow, you start to go insane. He then flicks the tender tip with his tongue as you throw your head back and moan.
You push your body upwards but Yuta pulls away. As expected, he teases you, wanting to draw this moment out for as long as possible.
“Yuta..please touch me.”
He looks into your large eyes as you beg, but then he looks down to your breasts and isn’t satisfied so he pays attention to the other breast, switching between gentle and firm sucking. Your moaning gets louder and louder, and you’re happy that Yuta paid for the suite that takes up one floor.
His large hand cups your breast, his fingers pressing into the skin and pumping it slowly.
His plush lips kiss everywhere, lighting fires of feeling across your sensitive skin.
Yuta then starts to grind down into you. Your opening is still covered by the rough fabric of your jeans, but aching nonetheless. The sudden contact made you jolt upwards. You’re so wet and needy, you’re sure you’re soaking through your jeans at this point.
Yuta quickly drags your jeans down your legs, you start to kick them off and let it fall to the floor.
“You’re so wet, baby.” Yuta stares at your soaked panties and smiles.
He retakes his position, placing his hands on either side of your head again, and sucking on your nipple.
This time he sucks harder, humming as he grinds down into you to hear you whimper loudly. The vibrations allow for a tingling sensation to echo through your skin, you feel lightheaded, your jaw locking, and your vision fading.
“Yuta!”
You say before releasing. Your grip on his hair tightens as he continues to suck on your skin while you cum. You moan loudly and breathe heavily..you slowly start to come back to Earth.
“Oh, you’re loud..but I like that.” Yuta gives you a wink then runs his fingers over your underwear.
“I didn’t even touch you and you came.” He says smoothly.
You jerk at the feel of his fingers parting your folds to collect your essence.
“You cocky bastard.” You say breathlessly.
Yuta only smirks as he walks around the bed and to a wall beside it.
“I forgot to show you this..” he presses a button and looks up at the ceiling.
You kneel on the bed and move to the center of it.
The white covering separates from the center, opening up to reveal a window.
Your eyes widen and your mouth falls open when you see the beautiful night sky, dazzled by twinkling stars. And even though it is late at night, you can still see traces of sapphire blue and small, faint lines of indigo.
There’s nothing like it. You can see why Van Gogh painted Starry Night.
“So we’re gonna fuck in front of the stars?” You ask bluntly, gaining a loud chuckle from Yuta.
“I promised to give you the best night you’ve ever had so..yes.” His eyes squinted when he laughs again.
“Yuta..this is..”
“Amazing? Legendary? Extraordinary? Yeah I know” he put his hands on his hips as he watched you gaze.
You roll your eyes and turn to him. “Come here..”
You head over to the edge of the bed and get on your knees. Yuta walks over to you, watching your hands unhook his belt and tug his jeans down.
You lean back and fall into the center of the bed while waiting for him to kick off his jeans and get on the bed.
Yuta nearly trips and falls as he struggles to take his jeans off while watching you. You start to take your panties down your legs but Yuta stops you.
“No! I wanna unwrap the present.”
“Ugh, you’re so weird.” You hold your face in your hands again.
“Look at me, sweetheart.” Yuta grabs your ankle and squeezes hard.
“Oh!” You yelp out at the pain and look down at him, watching as he crawls over your slowly on the plush bed.
He takes the waistband of your panty in between his fingers and slowly drags it down while looking into your eyes. Your heart starts to race again. He’s so close to your wet and needy entrance, but you feel the sharp, icy slap of cold air once you’re exposed.
“Beautiful..” Yuta adores your naked body below him.
He traces his fingers on the surface surrounding your folds, just pressing shy of them to make you writhe.
“Yuta..please.”
He rubs two fingers along your folds painfully slow, using the side of his long fingers to part them.
Yuta retreats his fingers and puts them into his mouth.
“So good.” He breathlessly lets out. He teases your entrance again, his spit and your essence now mixing as he presses nearly perfect circles into your core.
You can feel the knot in your stomach start to build again. Your mouth falls open as you moan.
You arch your back and hold onto the sheets with a grip so tight, you felt your knuckles become white. You look up at the stars and think to yourself how beautiful it is out there. You feel your spirit start to ascend while Yuta plays with your clit.
Your legs start to shake and threaten to close completely as you grow more and more sensitive to his touch.
Yuta uses his other hand to pump then align himself with your opening.
His length glistens with pre cum, the tip red and veins pumping fiery blood through it.
He’s more than ready now and you can’t wait to take him.
“Open up for me.”
You don’t hesitate to spread your legs further apart so your hips align with his.
He leans down and holds himself over you with both hands, looking into your eyes before kissing you enthusiastically, tugging your lip between his teeth so you can call out his name again.
He pushes into you slowly while you kiss.
Yuta drinks in your moan and groans when he feels your silky walls surround him.
He lets go of your lips and buries himself into the crook of your neck. He breathes deeply, pushing into you again.
“So tight, fuck.” He whispers.
You take a deep breath and look at the stars above you to stop yourself from coming already.
He starts to thrust into you again, but you let out a quiet whimper.
“Shit..I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay, Yuta. K-keep going.”
You rub his back to push him along.
He begins to rub your clit, your mouth falling open into a silent cry.
He pushes all of himself into you then pulls out, groaning once again when he buries himself back inside.
He grinds against your silky walls while holding you close and rubbing small circles into you.
Your heated bodies comfort each other as they are finally connected, working towards the same goal.
Yuta smells like a combination of amber and musk, but feels like a soft blanket during winter, his muscular arms holding your body still while also hugging you in the most passionate embrace you’ve ever experienced during sex.
His heart beat matches yours, his breath attaches itself to your neck. His throaty moans begin to get louder and louder.
Your fingers run through his hair while you whimper.
You’re so close.
Yuta moves faster, harder, pushing into you so hard, the bed starts to move.
He lifts himself from your chest and looks down at you. Your saddened by the coldness you feel between your bodies now but Yuta is so beautiful. His magenta hair now wavy, some strands sticking to his forehead, leftover eyeliner smudging and bringing out the depth of his eyes.
He grabs your ankles, completely enclosing his fists around them before placing them into his shoulders.
He grinds into your entire body at a different angle now, the pressure on your g-spot increasing significantly. “That’s feels good, Yuta..oh my G-“
You start to clench around him, making him groan and push into you harder.
“y/n..” he whispers while looking into your eyes. “You’re beautiful..in every way.”
His surprisingly sweet words make you smile.
You gaze at the stars, but your vision starts to blur. You can’t think of anything but Yuta, the feeling is so amazing, you can’t describe it. To be filled up by him, to be completely enraptured by him, there is nothing like it. The knocking of the headboard against the hotel wall and the sounds of skin on skin brings you to the edge.
You grip the sheets tightly as your eyes close.
They roll into the back of your head and your back arches. The euphoric feeling takes over and you swear your spirit leaves your body for an entire minute.
Yuta fucks you through your high but pulls out and releases onto your belly soon after, experiencing the same overwhelming feeling in his spirit too.
He collapses onto the bed beside you and looks up at the stars, taking your hand into his and squeezing it gently.
You look over at each other and laugh, it’s as if you were both thinking the same thing. How did you climax so hard?
Several minutes pass and you’re about to get up to get a towel but Yuta holds your hand.
“I’ll get it, just relax, baby.”
He comes back with a wet washcloth and gently cleans you up.
“I love you..” he says quietly.
“Yuta..it’s a bit early for that.”
He nods while cleaning up the strings on your belly. “I know..but I can’t shake this feeling. I think you’re the one..I think you’re my..soulmate.”
You’re stunned to hear Yuta speaking like this. If he realized you were soulmates, what would happen now?
“I mean, I don’t know if you believe in that kind of thing, but..”
“I agree, Yuta..I think you’re my soulmate, which is why I’m scared to lose you..good things never last.” You say quietly and avoid his eyes.
“Don’t say that, we’ll be okay..I know we’ll be okay. Just trust me, okay?”
Yuta crawled over you and gave your forehead a light peck.
You made love again then cuddled all night, but when morning came..so did reality.
————
You jump up at your desk, startled by a harsh gust of wind against your back.
What just happened? Where are you? Where is he?
You look around you and see towering wooden shelves filled with books.
How did you end up here?
“y/n? You okay?” You hear a young voice call to you.
You turn to see Charlotte, the 13-year old volunteer at the library.
The Library
Shit. You’re back.
You hold your head in your hands and wail.
Charlotte rushes over to you, hugging you tightly while shushing you.
“Y/n! Y/n! Be quiet! We’re in a library, you can’t be loud like this!”
You sniffle. “I know! But it was so good! I was so happy there!”
“What? Are you talking about your dream?”
That’s all it was..a sweet dream, an imaginative universe you only had a quick taste of...nothing was real now. How on Earth would you find him? You were back to reality.
Totoro walked across the desk and meowed.
You looked at him and pouted.
You knew who you were..a boring librarian that owned a cat named Totoro..but who was Yuta in this universe?
How would you find him?
“y/n?” Charlotte called out to you. “Do you want to go home?”
Several weeks passed and you slowly started to assimilate back into your old life. You googled his name but found nothing, he was nowhere to be found.
You just had to accept that it was a dream, a dream followed by the nightmare of reality.
You hoped that you would find your soulmate again, but you knew the chance was little to none. So you did what you did before. Work, eat, spend time with your best friend and roommate Delilah, sleep, then wake up to do it all over again.
Love didn’t have a place in your life, could you even come to accept a loved other than Yuta? Damn him for giving you a night in Paris to remember.
———
“The true crime section is in row 13.” You pointed to a large sign hanging from above reading “TRUE CRIME NOVELS.” You wondered how anyone could miss it, then again old people were usually the ones that needed the most help when they came to your library.
You turned back around to your returned-book cart that you were taking books from to stack the shelves with. But you noticed that it was now empty.
You were 75% sure that you didn’t put away ALL of the books before turning to help the senior citizen, yet all of them were gone.
All..except for one that had fallen to the floor. It was open when you picked it up. When you looked at the page that it was open to, you realized that it was a book of poems.
The poem it was opened to read:
She’s like the rain on summer days when the garden needs some nurturing...
She’s like a constellation of stars, oh she’s beautiful, and very gorgeous to me.
But I don’t even know her name, I only see her in a frame, yet her face is stuck in my mind
You squint your eyes, where have you seen this before?
she’s the girl in the portrait
the girl with the necklace
the girl with my heart
but the girl I don’t know
I could give her the world, but it’s not like she needs it from me
She’s a work of art, she’s the only thing I see
The girl with the necklace..
That’s it! It’s Yuta’s song! He wrote this, he’s out there somewhere. Perfect! Now you could track down the author and find him-
But wait.
You looked down to see the author’s name.
The One in the Middle
“Shit. It’s just like him to not put his real name on his work.”
You opened your laptop and immediately went to google.
“Who is the author named ‘The One in the Middle’?” You said as you typed.
Nothing. Nobody knew who he was. Many asked about his other poems, but there were no answers, only fan groups that praised the mysterious writer. ‘No one knows who he is but that adds to his ‘sexiness’ that’s what their Facebook post stated.
And none of his works were posted or published electronically, so you couldn’t ask someone to track his IP address like you did the first time.
You sigh and hold your head in your hands. “Damn it Yuta, why do you make things so difficult?”
It was comforting to know he’s out there somewhere, but you couldn’t help but lose hope. Was the universe messing with you?
———
A few weeks pass again and Delilah decides to drag you to the opening of a new art gallery downtown. Normally, she’d take her boyfriend with her, but he had basketball practice tonight.
“Thank you for coming with me, y/n! You know my professor, always making us look at other works for “inspiration” I mean, why can’t I just look at works online?” Delilah spoke as you two walked around. She was a musical theatre student, but had to visit an art gallery at least once a week to pass her art appreciation class.
She didn’t see the point in it, but you always had a connection to art that you couldn’t explain. No one in your family was a visual artist. Unlike in your “dream,” your grandmother wasn’t a painter and passed away before you could even meet her.
Nonetheless, color and technique was something you grew to appreciate.
There were about 50 people in the gallery, all high class looking. You felt underdressed in your black turtleneck, black jeans and jean jacket. That’s one thing that you did miss, wearing color all the time like you did in your dream. Now, you were back to wearing black. It was like a metaphor for how you felt. Your colorful and intense world has turned to black.
The only thing that stood out from your outfit was your necklace.
“I’m going to the restroom, I'll be right back!” Delilah skips away.
You nod then walk around a wall in the middle of the room. When you turn the corner, you see..yourself.
It’s the painting from your dream..the one of you slightly turned around. Your necklace is still in it too except..
You step closer and see that it’s different. The stone isn’t ruby anymore, no..
“It’s fuchsia..” you whisper. You glance down to see that the author’s name is The One with Many Friends.
“It’s funny because I was thinking it was more magenta, but you’re right..it really is fuchsia. You’ve got good eyes.”
You slowly turn when you recognize the voice.
Time starts to slow down. You can’t believe your eyes. It feels as though the world has stopped moving and it’s just the two of you once again after so much time.
It was Yuta.
Yuta smiles brightly when you look up at him, he recognizes you right away as you make the same pose you have in the painting.
“Yuta..” the name barely leaves your lips.
“It’s you..y/n.” He walks towards you, pace increasing with each step before taking you in his arms as all of his memories flood his brain. He had seen your face every night in his dreams but he couldn’t remember who you were. He painted you in an effort to figure out who you were, but it didn’t help.
Now finally, he got his answer.
Everything that was missing found its rightful place.
“I read your poem, but you used a pseudonym..again! I thought I would never find you.” You cry into his shoulder while holding onto him tightly.
Yuta smiles and caresses your hair.
“I told you...just trust me, we’ll be okay.”
#yuta#nakamoto yuta#yuta au#yuta ff#yuta fanfic#nct smut#yuta smut#nct yuta#nct soulmate au#nct 127 yuta#nct 127#nct#nct fluff#yuta oneshot#yuta scenario#yuta imagine#yuta nakamoto#yuta fluff#yuta angst#nct angst#nct 127 angst#nct 127 romance#nct romance#yuta blurb#nct boyfriend#nct yuta smut#nct 127 yuta smut#yuta romance#nct 127 fanfic#nct 127 fluff
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meeting your younger sibling 〃
♡ midoriya izuku, bakugou katsuki, todoroki shouto
genre. fluff!!!
author's note. i recently watched heroes rising and im still so 🥺 the big three as big brothers (and mayhaps dad! katsuki hngngngnggggg) makes me hella emotional so i made this <3
༘ midoriya izuku
you had to stay home and miss classes to look over your younger brother for the day
you informed your boyfriend izuku in advance, and he even wrote you notes on everything you missed :(
after a tiring school day had ended, he packed his things + a cute extra notebook for your notes and doodles that never failed to put a smile on your face
he quickly changes from his school uniform, planning to head over to your house to check up on you, not forgetting to ask you beforehand
he comes over and is immediately greeted with an embrace from you as soon as you open the door
his poor heart is still not used to the abundance of affection you shower him with, and he always makes sure to return it back (though with more stuttering and heat in his cheeks)
"go ahead, i'll get us some food." you tell him, as he enters your home, already disappearing into the kitchen
it's the first time he's meeting your little brother, and he spots him quietly laying on his stomach at the living room, and coloring on an all might coloring book
he goes 🥺🥺🥺
your brother looks up, a yellow crayon in his hand as he makes eye contact with a gushing izuku
the latter introduces himself, his eyes twinkling and a soft smile stretched in his lips. "hello!! i'm izuku~!"
your brother only tilts his head and blinks without a word, and casually averts his attention back to his coloring book
he takes the book in his hands, standing up and quietly walks in front of your boyfriend who is crouched to match his height
the child holds up the coloring book, a page of an unfinished colored portrait of all might shown, beside izuku's head
izuku only giggled, confused but isn't too bothered, as he's too focused on the cuteness of your brother.
he's obviously already attached !!
"you…" the five year old trails off, with wonder glinting in his eyes as he averts his gaze back and forth between the drawing of all might and the boy in front of him. "look like a good hero."
izuku swears his heart started melting
your brother has always looked up to heroes, like izuku was (and still is) ever since he was a little child. your brother's always so excited to hear you talk about being a hero in training, and of course, he's aware about the stories of deku. you always talked about him like the greatest hero in the world with sparkles in your eyes
to hear a little kid casually complimenting him like that had izuku's heart go all 💞
before he could even utter a response, your brother takes his hand, making izuku stand up, letting himself get gently dragged to the spot the child was on
your brother lays back on his stomach, snatching a blue crayon from the ground and pointing it to your boyfriend
"want to color with me?"
you coo silently to yourself, hiding in the kitchen as you press the camera button to capture the nth photo that is set to be your lock screen
༘ bakugou katsuki
'how do u make a baby sleep'
'??? tf should i know'
katsuki may not be the best quiet person to be around a baby, but you're desperate and tired and your baby sister just isn't at all !!
so ten minutes before your boyfriend's bed time and way past your sister's, you had managed to bug him enough to come over your house and help you put her to sleep
your hair is a mess, baby food is splattered on your shirt, and your eyebags are deepening (school works have been piling up), and the first thing katsuki tells you as he steps into your house is, "you look like shit."
you only roll your eyes, a yawn escaping your lips. "thanks, i'm flattered."
your sister is wailing like the baby she is, as she wildy waves around the empty milk bottle in her hand. toys are littered on the floor and baby powder is spilled on the kitchen counter at some point. it looks like a hurricane had passed by your house !
"what were you feeding her?"
"baby food and two bottles of milk." you sigh, taking the bottle from her hand to wash it
you look over at him, a tired smile straining your lips. "sorry i asked you to come over so late, katsuki."
"here," his eyes darted everywhere to the walls to avoid your curious eyes, as he gently shoves a plastic of food into your hands. "you can't sleep on an empty stomach."
is he....blushing...?
you take the plastic, the sleep in your face disappearing, your smile widening as you shuffle through its contents. "...and diapers?"
he scoffs, and you're absolutely correct; his cheeks are flushed! "just in case you ran out or something..."
"awww, thank youuu." you giggle, and katsuki clicks his tongue , mumbling a whatever like the tsundere but big softie inside he is
you ask him if he wants to hold your baby sister, and with a sigh, he does
he doesn't want to tell you that he can't bear to see you tiring yourself. as soon as he saw you so worn out and not getting enough sleep like you promised him, he felt his heart clenching painfully. so whatever it is, he'll always do anything for you (even if he acts so annoyed and reluctant most of the time)
there's that constant furrow of his brows and scowl in his lips, but when her cries suddenly cease and her tiny hand holds up to cover his whole thumb as she looks at him with her pretty doe eyes, you see how his own soften and how he seems to freeze for a split second
from the shape of your brows, and to the curve of your cupid's bow, your adorable baby sister truly resembles you
and katsuki found himself silently admiring her, as he sneakily catches a glimpse of you in the corner of his eye, in utter disbelief and amazement on how her eyes slowly flutters shut in the arms of the normally loud boy
you stand there at the corner, breathing out a soft laugh
he's going to be a great dad, you just know it
this is what i like to call jay is whipped for kacchan <3
༘ todoroki shouto
shouto had asked you out on a date today, but unfortunately, your parents had left the house and asked you to look over your eight year old sister
'i'm so sorry i bailed on you, shouto :( do you wanna hang out at my house instead tho haha 👉👈'
baby boy was really understanding, and quickly agreed to move your little date at home instead
'it's fine. at least i still get to see you.'
while waiting for shouto to come over, you just couldn't help but brag about the best boyfriend ever to your little sister
you showed her your whole album of photos of shouto: confused selfies with a blush on his cheeks, stolen shots of him literally doing anything, and photographs you had taken of him during dates. what a model
"i don't think he's your boyfriend." your sister deadpans, eyebrow raising suspiciously at you
you snickered, basically shoving your phone at her face; a photo taken by ashido of shouto silently fixing the strands of hair framing your face as he stood in front of you, while you only sat there, staring at him with hearts in your eyes aka your lock screen 🥰
she only shrugs, pushing the phone away. "maybe it's edited."
"WHY YOU LITT—"
ding dong
did i fail to mention that even though your sister seemed utterly fazed by the perfection called your boyfriend, she was already dressed in her elsa costume from halloween and even had the audacity to use your makeup? you only narrowed your eyes at her as she smugly presented herself to you
she's unusually quiet now though, trailing after you as you open the door and greet the man himself
"my love, my darling, my angel~" you beam innocently at a dumbfounded shouto at your doorstep. he surely wasn't expecting such an affectionate greeting, with the hue of pink painting his cheeks making him so obvious
"hello….my love…darling….angel���" he looked so adorably confused, eyes blinking owlishly and the corners of his lips tugging up slightly
"come in~"
as he enters, he quickly notices your little sister clinging on your legs, innocently gazing up at him with her mouth agape
"hello…"
"are you really my sister's boyfriend?" she blurts out, shamelessly pointing at you with a bewildered look on her face
he's unbothered though, nodding swiftly and meeting your eyes. "yes."
"why?" oh, she is so going to get it !!!
shouto blinks, averting his gaze fully to you with confusion swirling in his eyes
"because i like her."
"but why?" "stop—"
"because…" his cheeks had gone a full shade of red, but his face remained still, not removing his gaze at you. "she's beautiful and kind."
your heart is beating a bit too loud for your liking hahaha
your sister cranes her neck to look up at you, squinting her eyes in disbelief and you gasp, obviously offended. "you believe me now?"
"only because he's—" she lowers her voice, cutely puffing out her cheeks—"cute."
"you are so—"
"let it go, sis."
long story short, let's just say your competition for shouto todoroki just got added by one (1) evil elsa wannabe sister.
#bnha headcanons#mha headcanons#izuku midoriya x you#bakugou katsuki x reader#todoroki shouto x reader#midoriya headcanons#midoriya x y/n#deku x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugou headcanons#todoroki shouto#todoroki shoto x reader#todoroki x reader#todoroki headcanons#my hero academia x reader#my hero academia#boku no hero x reader#boku no hero academia#bakugou imagine#bnha fanfiction#bnha scenarios#bnha imagines#boku no hero imagines
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You are such an amazing writer!! Need pt 2 with jimin :(
Well, well, what a coincidence! You are an amazing person, kutie. Wish granted!! 😘
Apparently Necessary Disclaimer: I don’t own Netflix, but wbk. Also, the above gif was made and edited by me, kutemouse. That is why I’ve posted this under the tag #btsgif. Feel free to use it however you want, just give me credit for the edit. Thanks 💜
Age Recommendation: 16+
Warnings: Swears, a bit o’ angst, mostly glorious fluffiness, Jimin badly procrastinating, kissing, brief (hella light) mentions of the frick frack. Nothing more than you’d hear about in a PG-13 movie. This was so fun to write, I hope you like 😘
Word Count: 2,281
Summary: You reflect back on your summer you’ve spent with vampire Jimin, getting closer and closer as you continued painting his portrait. But now summer’s over and you have to go back to university. How will Jimin react?
Ƹ̵̡Ӝ̵̨̄Ʒ
Summer Portraits (Jimin one-shot, Fluff, Vampire) Part Two
You sat in your bay window, staring at the way the wind whipped through the trees and wound through the grass, creating swirls of hypnotizing green. You were leaving Jimin’s mansion tomorrow and going back to Seoul where, in only three days, another term at your university would begin. Feelings of unease and doubt crept through you. You knew this was the way things had to go, things had to end… but what if you didn’t want them to? After all, this summer had been one of the most interesting ones you’d ever had.
After Jimin confessed to you that he and Soobin were vampires, you were extremely apprehensive around them. The only time you felt relaxed was when you were painting, allowing the mixtures of color to settle your nerves. As time wore on, you realized their intentions probably weren’t malicious, and you found yourself enjoying the company of the eccentric vamp and his brooding butler.
“I love it,” Jimin said, coming up behind you and examining your work one sunny afternoon. He sighed. “Am I really that handsome?”
You rolled your eyes and leaned closer to the canvas, trying to detail his full lips with one of your smaller brushes. Jimin suddenly chuckled, causing you to lean away and toss him a glare. “Sorry,” he said, seeing your look. “It’s just… the last time I saw what my face looked like was thirty years ago. You would think things would’ve changed, but…”
He trailed off, giving you a small smile before continuing. “I’m a vampire. My face has never, and will never, change.”
“That is true,” I murmured, catching the trace of sadness in his gorgeous tawny eyes.
“No matter. Good work, Y/n,” he said, patting your shoulder and turning to leave. You were shocked to feel tingles shooting down your nerves from the place where he touched you.
Shaking your head roughly, you brought yourself back to reality with a harsh thought. “Never in a million years.”
A couple weeks later, Jimin announced at dinner that he was going to head out on a business trip and would be gone for the next few days. “Soobin will be here to attend to your needs,” he said. You shrugged in response, a strange feeling of disappointment settling over you. Were you going to… miss him? You supposed you were. The hallways would feel empty without Jimin’s laughter and his bright-yet-tasteful outfits.
“I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he murmured, tracing his finger over the rim of a glass filled with dark red liquid. You had felt strange, eating full meals while Jimin and Soobin didn’t eat anything. As long as Soobin put it in a glass, you could just pretend they were drinking wine instead of blood and it didn’t make you squirm nearly as much.
Forty-eight hours later, you realized you were definitely missing him. Soobin was fine to have around, but he was so… so… professional. Always “Yes Miss L/n,” or “No Miss L/n.” He refused to call you by your first name, and except for the occasional game of chess, he didn’t have much talent in the way of entertainment.
Bored of browsing Netflix, you got up and went into your studio. A blank canvas sat on your easel just waiting to be turned into a beautiful work of art. You absentmindedly picked up a brush and squirted some paint onto your palette, swirling the bristles lazily in the color and brushing it onto the canvas. By now, you’d memorized the perfect, pale tone of his unblemished skin, the way his eyes crinkled when he laughed, the soft curve of his lips that met in a barely-there cupid’s bow… every detail was yours to paint. You painted for hours, not even noticing when the room started to darken.
“Miss L/n?”
You jumped, the brush stroking across the canvas as your hand spasmed out of control. You turned to see Soobin looking at you in horror. “Oh my, I’m so sorry,” he said, pressing his hands to his mouth.
“Don’t worry about it,” you sighed, setting the brush down. You’d been using a dark brown color for the eyes, and now it was streaked across the portrait’s cheek. Whatever. This painting was kind of just for fun anyway.
“Is anyone here?” a voice called out.
Your heart soared at the sound of his melodic voice before falling and crashing in a fiery explosion. The painting. You couldn’t let him see it. Couldn’t let him see how you truly felt.
You hurried to take the canvas off the easel, placing it just inside the door between your studio and your room before closing it hurriedly. Soobin shot you a look of confusion and you shook your head at him just as Jimin entered the room. “Hey there,” he said, taking you in with a smile.
You smiled back, placing your paint-covered hands behind your back. “Hey. You’re back.”
“I am.”
“How was it?”
His tawny eyes bored into you as his smile turned into a small smirk. “Productive.”
The next day found you painting Jimin in his study. He dressed in just a normal black suit and tie today, claiming he wanted to see how he looked. His dark locks were swept backwards from his forehead, making him look more refined, and he chose to pose with his hands in his pockets, leaning against his large oak desk.
His sultry gaze seemed to pierce right through you as you did your best to capture it. “Can you do something for me?” he asked. You looked up and nodded.
Jimin smirked and you gasped as his eyes flooded a deep red. “Can you paint me like this?”
You took a step back, suddenly nervous, before regaining control of your emotions and nodding. Jimin leaned back against his desk once more, and you picked up a bottle of red paint, adding it to your palette before brushing the color onto the portrait’s eyes.
“Y/n,” Jimin said. You looked up once more. He beckoned you over with a long, pale finger.
You put down your brush and stepped towards him. Jimin’s mouth parted slightly open, and you caught a glimpse of pointed fangs. “Do I make you nervous when I look like this?” he asked. You hesitated before shaking your head.
“Why not?”
“You won’t hurt me.”
“How do you know?”
You swallowed hard. “Because you told me you wouldn’t… and I trust you.”
“You do?”
You nodded then let out a little shriek as Jimin grabbed you by the waist and tugged you close. Your face was only inches away from his as he looked down at you, an amused smile dancing across his lips. You watched in amazement as his eyes faded from red back to that tawny brown. “How about now?” he murmured.
You clutched the collar of his suit jacket and glanced down, a heated flush rising to your cheeks. He chuckled, the sound low in his throat. “Tell me, Y/n… did you miss me while I was gone?”
Your eyes widened. He knew. He knew how you felt. How you saw his face even when your eyes were closed. How you fantasized what it would be like to be with him.
Jimin impatiently squeezed your hips, forcing you to look at him. “Tell me.”
“I-I-” you stuttered.
He closed his eyes and rolled his neck, opening them only to give you a quizzical look. “Well? Did you?”
“Yes,” you finally admitted.
Jimin smiled. “You know, I haven’t let myself get close to anyone in years. Soobin and I have just stayed out here, away from everyone and everything… You’re the first person I’ve ever let in here, and I half-expected you to run the first chance you got.”
“I almost did,” you confessed.
“What stopped you?”
You smiled. “You.”
“Me?”
You stared up into his tawny eyes. “Yes, you. I couldn’t… I mean, initially I was just curious and wanted to know more, but as you and I got to know each other, and as I continued painting your portrait, I…”
Your voice cracked and you stopped talking, afraid you’d already said too much.
“I feel the same way,” Jimin murmured, gently grasping your chin and bringing your lips to his. They were as soft as you’d imagined they’d be. He drew back, but you wanted more, wrapping your fingers through the belt loops of his trousers and yanking him back in. You kissed him with all of the pent-up feelings you’d had since the day you met him, hoping that one action could convey them all.
Jimin didn’t hold back either, angling his jaw to deepen the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips, tasting you, desiring you, adoring you. You drew back for breath for only a second before diving back into him, drowning in the exhilaration that covered you from head to toe. He was finally yours.
Until he wasn’t.
The next few weeks were filled with nothing but heat, passion, and dreams coming true. You spent your days tangled up with Jimin in between the sheets, painting him, going on long moonlit walks with him, and fully indulging your nearly-perfect summer.
The only shadow looming over all these serendipitous events was your leaving. In the week leading up to now, you’d kept waiting for Jimin to say something. Anything. Would he come back to Seoul with you? Would he visit? Were you two even official enough to expect that kind of thing? Or was this all just meant to be a memory, eventually forgotten?
You sighed and stood up, dragging your suitcase from out of your closet and throwing things haphazardly into it. He hadn’t said anything, just acted like you two would go on forever. Maybe that was literally possible for him, but for you, it was not realistic in the slightest. You would just have to move on. Throw yourself into schoolwork. Maybe find someone else.
Who are you kidding? There is no one else. Even if you searched the entire planet, no one else would compare to Jimin.
You continued packing, trying to distract yourself with the repetitive task of folding and placing. “This is such bullshit,” you muttered.
“Yeah. It is.”
You looked up to see Jimin leaning in your doorway, looking down at your partially-packed suitcase with an apprehensive look on his face. “What are you doing?” he asked.
You placed your hands on your thighs and squeezed. “Packing.
“Why?”
“My term at University starts in four days, Jimin,” you muttered, grabbing another blouse and folding it up.
“You’re leaving?”
You looked up to see Jimin biting his lip, his brow furrowed. “That was always the plan. I stay here for a summer, get paid, then go back to finish my degree.”
Jimin stepped close then slipped down to his knees, kneeling on the ground next to you. “Is that what you want?”
You didn’t answer. Jimin suddenly placed his palms on the ground and leaned forward, getting so close he caused heat to rise to your cheeks. Even after weeks of being together, he still gave you butterflies. “Tell me, Yn,” he murmured, tilting his head. “What do you want?”
“D-Depends on what you want,” you stuttered.
Jimin let out a scoff, yet a smile still lingered over his full lips. “I thought that was obvious,” he said. “I want you.”
He leaned forward even more and pressed his lips to yours, softly engulfing you in the sweetest kiss. Your lips separated and Jimin smirked, his face still hovering close to yours. “I’m coming with you, you know.”
Your mouth dropped open. “You are?”
His smirk widened. “Of course. I got a nice apartment close to your university. Close to you. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before.”
“You dork,” you said before wrapping him in your arms.
He laughed and kissed the top of your head, his nose nuzzling into your hair. “I know nothing I do could match this summer, but I can try.”
“You’re already succeeding,” you murmured, holding him tighter.
You felt Jimin tense up. “What’s that?” he asked.
You turned to see where he was pointing and felt embarrassment rush through your body. “That? Oh, that’s nothing, just-”
Jimin pulled out the portrait you had painted of him while he was on his business trip. “I don’t remember you painting this.”
“I-I, well, I painted it while you were… while you were…” You seemed to have trouble getting the words out.
Jimin tossed you an amused grin. “You painted this… from memory?”
You nodded, clasping your hands behind your back
“Y/n, that’s… this is… I mean, this is amazing,” Jimin said.
You pointed to the dark streak that marred the portrait’s complexion. “Soobin made me jump,” you explained.
“That’s alright. I know you can fix it. In fact, I’ll pay you to fix it. Out of all of the portraits you’ve painted of me this summer, I think this one is my favorite.”
“Okay, but you don’t have to pay me with money,” you said, taking the painting from him and propping it against the wall. You wrapped your arms around his neck. “Just promise me I’ll get the real you.”
“You already have me,” Jimini murmured, leaning down and kissing you.
You sighed into the kiss, a feeling of contentment working its way through you. Everything would be alright. This summer wouldn’t be just a flash of a memory, left unfinished and marred by regret. It was the start of a painting detailing the rest of your life. Despite the unknown future plaguing you, you knew one thing for certain. You and Jimin would finish that painting… together.
#bts#btsgif#bts gif#bts gif i made and edited#red eyes gif#jimin gif#bts fanfic#btsff#bts oneshot#bts imagine#bts imagines#part two#bts part two#bts jimin#btsjimin#park jimin#jimin x reader#jimin x yn#jimin fluff#jimin vampire#vampire oneshot#fluffy vampire#romantic vampire#kutie anon#lovely anon#txt soobin#soobin#butler soobin
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Poet Scarlett Sabet
In conversation with poet Gerard Malanga for London Magazine.
The London Magazine is England’s oldest literary periodical, with a history stretching back to 1732. Today – reinvigorated for a new century – the Magazine’s essence remains unchanged: it is a home for the best writing and an indispensable feature on the British literary landscape-London Magazine
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“After meeting at a French New Wave Cinema book launch in London in November 2019, poets Gerard Malanga and Scarlett Sabet have since kept in regular correspondence via email.
In this unique interview, conducted over several weeks while thousands of miles apart, the two writers discuss shared influences, the recent passing of the Beat Generation poet Michael McClure, and the grounding influence of poetry throughout the international lockdown.
This interview is based on the poets’ original email correspondence and has been edited for clarity.”-London Magazine
GERARD MALANGA: You ask how my week has been? I’ve been in lockdown now for 3 weeks or so, though I might’ve lost count. I have plenty to keep me busy in the house here, plus I have responsibility towards my 3 cats. And then there’s dreamtime, between 4 & 6 in the morning.
But suddenly I felt days back this ennui coming on, like, did the poetry suddenly disappear? Sometimes I’m concerned—but just for a moment mind you—whether I can match or even better the last one? There’s no way I can predict when the muse will appear. If I had the answer, it would vanquish the mystique.
Since I’ve been in lockdown, there’s no going out for me for the morning coffee and The New York Times unfolding on the table. Many a first draft has begun that way, but now with a physical displacement of sorts I can’t claim to be an habitue of the cafe life. The kitchen table serves me well – or wherever I happen to be outdoors – so long as I have a small notebook in my pocket. I even prop myself up in bed with a clipboard pressed against my knees. I follow where I feel a poem coming on. When I start, then I know I’m in for it, but don’t give it the slightest thought. I’m in for the ride.
SCARLETT SABET: Yes, I find sometimes walking in the morning, having a destination, getting into my body and moving get’s the ball rolling with writing. I can understand the ritual of going to a cafe. I’ve written on trains a lot, the motion and rhythm helps, and because I’m in a vacuum in transit I can’t be reached.
I love the image of your 4am dream writing, I think that’s a great ritual. Sometimes I write three pages first thing in the morning, and it’s just anything on my mind. I’ve also found meditation helpful, deepening my state of consciousness and then writing straight afterwards to see what comes out, kind of like automatic writing in the spirit of Austin Osman Spare.
We were both raised Catholic, I wonder if that has had any bearing on your writing or practices? I find a great sense of divinity in art, those moments of inspiration.
GERARD MALANGA: Funny that you would mention that. No one’s ever asked me about my spirituality, that I recall. People have weird notions about me, like I’m some kind of guy about town. I may have a little bit of that too. But spirituality for me is to be able to laugh at yourself. Even when I talk to my cats, I’m laughing at myself. I don’t mean physically laughing as such but going about life without being self-conscious. It helps when I’m writing a poem.
Back in 1970 or so, I had a spiritual conversion. One of my closest friends, a guy named Jim Jacobs, turned me on to the first two Carlos Castaneda/Don Juan books; so we were basically comparing notes and one of the themes that came through for us was to follow your nature to be happy. Suddenly we found ourselves wearing white clothing and calling ourselves the white lights. When we went to London we ended up buying an all-white 1939 Bentley convertible with one windshield wiper not wiping, and it basically gave us the freedom to go visit friends in the English countryside. It sounds hysterically funny when I look back at this, but we were quite sincere in our endeavors. If this was going to be our path we had to be true to the discoveries we made along the way.
During our travels we decided to split off and agreed to re-connect a couple of years later in the Massachusetts Berkshires where he’s from and continue where we left off. Jim ended up being one of the top dealers in the secondary art market handling the likes of Judd and Cy Twombly, and now he’s curating shows. I continued to write poetry without a care in the world and became more attuned to the pictures I was taking. I truly feel I’ve become a better photographer because of the experiences I had. You have to be courageous to suddenly drop out and then drop back in.
Back in ’74, I had this idea for a book of my spiritual poetry that would have as its cover one of those kitschy paintings of Jesus. I called it ‘Poems for the Fat Lady’. You know, the Fat Lady was a phrase I’d picked up from reading Salinger’s Raise High the Roof Beam, Carpenters, where he’s actually equating Jesus with the Fat Lady, that they were one. That’s pretty neat, I thought. It didn’t go over too well with my publisher who rejected the idea outright. He thought I was joking. So I settled for a kind of even-balanced title, Incarnations,’ and changed the poems around.
Perhaps, the Fat Lady was the closest I ever got to God, though I don’t give it much thought these days. It’s the inspiration and the love that come from it which is the driving force and source for much of what I’m writing nowadays, and that’s the joy when I finally finish a poem. A state of happiness sets in for me.
SCARLETT SABET: And what you said makes sense, I can understand it. Did you have a period where you rebelled against spirituality or Catholicism and were, say, atheist? Although it’s bizarre for me to admit it, once I left school I did swing to atheism, I guess as a way of rebelling or a reaction. School can be dogmatic.
GERARD MALANGA: In hindsight, to embrace atheism, Scarlett, would deny the spirituality within me which accounts for a lot of my poetry as well. There was no real rebellion on my part. I always felt that my guardian angel was looking after me when I was fated to become a poet. Who would I be, otherwise? It’s a scary proposition, come to think of it.
SCARLETT SABET: True, looking back I realise I’ve always had a Guardian Angel too. I’m so sorry for the loss of [influential Beat poet] Michael McClure, and I was moved by the picture you took of him in San Francisco, 1972. What was that day like?
GERARD MALANGA: If I live long enough, God willing, I may end up not knowing anyone because at this juncture a lot of my friends have already passed. Many of them in the obituary series of my most recent book Cool, which you have. I don’t want to slip into a consciousness of perpetual mourning. Yet I hadn’t anticipated that I’d be writing a poem for Michael, but then I opened up to myself and his consciousness flowed right in. Perhaps I had a vacuum to fill at that moment from an external point of view, taking Michael’s place for the poem that would talk to him and he to me.
I remember little of that when I came to visit with him and made his portrait. It was a serene afternoon. Just him and me. I remember distinctly that we went off in his car, perhaps to a restaurant. We were driving somewhere, and that made sense. But for the life of me I remember nothing of what transpired over lunch. With all the history—and it ain’t an awful lot—there’s still a history there to be acknowledged. You know, I performed the part of Billy the Kid in Warhol’s movie which we adapted from Michael’s play, The Beard. Hardly anyone knows this; perhaps in part because I believe the movie has never been shown. So the friendships last and last and continue beyond the grave.
SCARLETT SABET: I’m always struck by the structure of your poems. I was wondering what your approach to this was, whether there was any major influence from particular poets of your youth, or even whether the way that you frame scenes and ideas within poems has any crossover influence from your work in the wider art world?
GERARD MALANGA: Yes, there’s probably a very strict structure to my poems, but it’s casually applied in what the work proposes as possibility, which I don’t even notice when I’m starting out. For instance, for a very long time, the opening to the work begins with an indented first line of let’s say 8 characters. It’s my way of engaging myself and the reader into a form of poetry that’s a radically different departure from what may be normally perceived. Yes, it’s a poem, but I like to think of them as prose poems as well.
I left ‘influences’ behind decades back. I’m pretty much on autopilot. I’m my own navigator. I travel the journey alone. My earliest influence when I literally started was Gerard Manley Hopkins. I was enchanted by his system of ‘sprung rhythm’ which he basically invented with no imitators following. That would’ve been 1959 during the start of the high school year in my senior class. In 1962, I believe, John Ashbery made a profound influence on my early work with his book The Tennis Court Oath. That became my Bible. I’d carry it around my duffle bag wherever I went. But it was Ted Berrigan with his Sonnets in ’64 that unlocked the door for me into what Ashbery was doing and that was a sheer liberating factor. From there the work continued to expand on its own.
The only ‘crossover influence’ that I imagine, as you put it, in the ‘wider art world’ would be my own life, and not the art world, per se. So what we have here is the tendency to open almost all the work in the form of what appears to be a letter on the surface, but is actually a message. I’m addressing the subjects of my poems directly; they’re not ‘about’ the subject. I’m talking directly to them, as if they’re right in the room, whether it’s a person or a cat.
SCARLETT SABET: You mention you don’t write about your subjects but address them directly in your poems. I think this is what makes them so arresting and intimate, particularly in the ‘Lives They Lived’ chapter in your beautiful collection Cool & Other Poems [published by Bottle of Smoke Press]. Each poem is a visceral portal, allowing the reader to be present with you, and witness Christopher Logue against a snowing sky before warming his hands around a mug of cognac, and Anita Pallenberg a vivacious, laughing woman sitting opposite you at Cafe Flore. Also in that chapter you include a poem entitled ‘Gerard Malanga dies’. The poem contains the line ‘I am my only guide now,’ which I found so powerful. Could you tell us how that poem came to be?
GERARD MALANGA: Putting together that section, ‘The Lives They Lived’, I figuratively had to step outside myself. That’s how close I was with many of those listed and to the memories I have of them held dear. It was not an easy section to compile. By the way, ‘The Lives They Lived’, is borrowed from the New York Times‘s annual round-up supplement. I called my contact at the paper to get permission to use it and he saw no problem involved.
Writing ‘Gerard Malanga dies’ was a tricky situation in the need to make it work. It was one of the final poems in the section and it presented me with an opportunity to address certain issues surrounding death and to those friends I’d already acknowledged over a period of nearly 40 years. I also lapse into a bit of my own personal history, as if I’m contemplating how others might see me after I’ve gone: ‘The rabbit hole is waiting for my plunge.’ Somehow, that image of the rabbit hole has emerged in a few of my poems and also echoes back to Lewis Carroll’s Alice in Wonderland, one of my favorite childhood books.
The rabbit hole is an image for both death and resurrection, as I see it. Here, I question myself, ‘Am I preparing for another life? A return to life?’ And so I treat this poem as slowly nearing its own end with a ‘journey’ back to life ‘…and on and on…’. I equate this with an actual journey I’d taken by train from ‘Glasgow down to Central London…’ back in 2014 where I’d been dreamily staring out the window at a passing landscape I might not ever explore at any other time.
‘Will I even find my way home to the Bronx’ alludes to a movie I’d seen years back I recall, called ‘The Swimmer’ adapted from a John Cheever short story. Starring Burt Lancaster, his character is swimming across a series of backyard swimming pools and encountering neighbors he knew poolside in attempting to reach home. And when he arrives in the pouring rain and runs up to the door, he discovers that the door’s locked and the house is empty. Such a potent ending and darkened cinematic metaphor, brilliantly done. And it’s these private memories in my life resurfacing that I feel nourishes my work.
SCARLETT SABET: We met at a book launch in London, and you were immediately swarmed, surrounded by people. I think that is a testament to the impact your writing has had globally and across generations. How has your home city of New York and its literary landscape changed and evolved for you over the years? Is it something you feel especially connected to?
GERARD MALANGA: Your question speaks volumes, but I’m going to try to be as brief and succinct as I can hope to be as the facts show. I’m seventy-seven now and there have been no accolades to show for it. Cool came out last year and Whisper Sweet Nothings two years prior and together they comprise the best of anything I’ve ever done, and yet they’ve been totally ignored by the New York literary press overall. In the five decades I’ve been publishing I’ve received not one grant or fellowship or any of the prizes totaling in the millions. Nada. Zilch. I can’t even get my memoirs published and I have thousands of fans waiting for this book. You would think that would count for something. I’m grateful for the European attitude towards my work. That’s what keeps the work alive for me. That’s where my audience is and they relate. I love what I do, and I know it shows through the work from the responses at the readings I give and that’s how my work thrives. I love my audience and that’s the truth of it.
SCARLETT SABET: A year ago today, I finished my waitressing shift, went home and listened to what Jimmy [Page] had produced from the recordings we had made of my poems. this became our spoken word album Catalyst. It was a joy to be able to give you our album as I am so moved by your work. It had a sense of synchronicity also, as years earlier, Jimmy had given me a signed edition of your beautiful poem ‘Devotion’.
You said that ‘Cut Up’ was your favourite track on Catalyst. I had christened that poem ‘Cut Up’ simply because it was the first time I had used the William Burroughs/Brion Gysin method. I always feel it’s a handing over, a leap of faith to a higher power, to introduce another energy to it, and it came out with it’s own dark, random rhythm. Burroughs said “when you cut into the present the future leaks out”, and in that sense it has a spell like quality or possibility.
Some poems I’ve written in one sitting, a sort of channeling, like ‘Fifth Circle of Hell’, which is also on Catalyst. But part of the reason I found the cut-up method so liberating that first time was that I was trying to write a poem to encapsulate that period. I felt cautious because the subject matter was focused on the events in Europe and the Middle East, and the horrors and blood shed of the Bataclan attacks in Paris. I think my own identity and ethnicity – my mother is French-Scottish and my father is Persian – gave this piece more weight personally. So really, the cut-up was a way of detaching through the process, which was effective. I suppose I wonder what your thoughts are on cut-ups?
GERARD MALANGA: Scarlett, cut-ups are a tricky business. They almost feel spontaneous, but with every move there’s no turning back. They’re the antithesis to parallel grammatical structures which is how we reform language to make things sound right. You see Bill [Burroughs] stuck with it all his life. Cut-ups were his language and he embraced the process. It’s okay to experiment with language so long as you come out at the other end with something that satisfies you and encourages you to want to do more, to go further. That’s a big commitment. The one thing you want to avoid is being self-conscious in the process, as you put it. There’s no room for self-consciousness in cut-ups. You have to operate on a more or less unconscious level like when you dream.
Of course, you realize this in dreams. I don’t need to tell you. In dreams, nothing really connects or relates. Dreaming is a series of visual and mental disconnects. One thing leads to the next but you don’t know why nor do you have time to stop to know why. It’s like you go with the flow. Excuse the corniness of this. Dreams are the cut-ups of the unconscious. You can’t go back to change anything to make it better. There’s nothing qualitative about it. When that happens to me, I try to maintain the balance of the good and the bad together. All of it. Yes, I’ve done a little tweaking here and there, but only because I’m now in the conscious state and I want to make the lines sound just right. So it’s okay to prune. Robert Lowell taught me how to prune. But you have to know what you’re doing. It’s trusting your instincts. That’s what I do. If I throw out a perfectly terrific line, it’s because I’m trusting my instincts. But, of course, only I know that. The reader doesn’t, nor does he need to.
One of my earliest poems was a form of the cut-up. My English teacher in high school, Daisy Aldan, who introduced me to the world of poetry, gave us an assignment in class to cut out words at random from the newspaper and fill a paper bag with them. The next step was to reach into the bag and pick out one word at a time and place them on a page, and then to transcribe those words into a text, including all the capital and lower-case letters. I did one better and glued them onto the page. This all had to do with chance. Remember, Stéphane Mallarmé, in his last poem ‘Un coup de dés’ said that a ‘a throw of the dice NEVER NEVER will abolish chance.’ Well, he was right about that. You take your chances, you trust your instincts.
SCARLETT SABET: I’ve started reading Gysin’s novel The Process. I bought it last year at Shakespeare&Co but started reading it now to feel closer to Morocco, a place that I really love, while still in lockdown. I wondered what places have meant the most to you?
GERARD MALANGA: I have Brion’s book on my shelf, but I’ve yet to read it. Perhaps I’m still not ready for it yet. Right now I’m immersed in Tolstoy’s Anna Karenina. What I like about it is that it reads like it’s not translated but written directly in English. That’s probably the best kind of translated work.
The first place that comes to mind that has meant the most to me, although there may have been others, is the Cafe Flore. It was my first introduction to cafe life when I arrived in Paris in the spring of 1965. And henceforth whenever I’ve visited Paris, I would arrive punctually every morning during my stays. There’s no other cafe that does it for me. Of course, there’s the cafe in the Luxembourg Gardens, but that’s more like a restaurant; a different ambiance entirely. The Flore has a certain something, a certain charm about it that allows me to immerse myself reading the morning papers or writing a poem even. The food’s good too. The croissants, the omelettes, the cafe creme. Some years back, I started referring to it as my ’office’ whenever I had an appointment to meet with friends. And I’d be certain to book a hotel room within walking distance. Anyway, the Flore is the start of my day.
SCARLETT SABET: Well, I hope one day, when the lockdown is over, we can meet you at Cafe Flore.
Photos: London Magazine
#scarlett sabet#jimmy page#jimmy page girlfriend#led zeppelin#poet#poetry#the london magazine#london magazine#gerard malanga
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A Wild West Experience Part 4
Hey! Look! More writing! I am alive. It’s been a long and yet extremely quick two weeks so i apologize for how long this took. But here. Have a short heartwarming installment.
“I’m home, my love!” Gio called as he shut his front door. Their house was one of the oldest in Haven, and thanks to Mary, the most elegant. It was their own personal style, more made for comfort than entertaining. They had lots of space, with a large two stories for just the two of them.
“Ah, finally!” Mary came out to give him a kiss. Her black hair shone against her light blue house dress, made with the lightest linen for summer. “You certainly took your time.”
“I’m dreadfully sorry. You won’t believe the day I’ve had, though. He followed her into the sitting room. Her camera was set up. “Did you have a Bride come for portraits?”
“No it’s for a new portrait. So,” she said, fiddling with the shutter button and delicately looking into the viewfinder, “did you get my message?”
Gio’s stomach suddenly knotted up on itself.
“Yes, is everythin alright, my love? If I did somethin to make you angry, just tell me what it was and I will do my damndest -”
Mary laughed. “No you ridiculous man, I’m not angry.”
“Oh. Is it your health then? I asked Walt today, but he said you hadn’t been to see-”
“No no, if it were serious you would know, honey.” Mary sat on the arm of the chair across from him. “But yes it has to do with my health.” She went quiet for a moment, studying his face. “I know you love this town, and being the sheriff. And you love me and Elek and Gigi and Walt. You give your whole heart to all of us.”
Oh God Above, Gio thought in panic, She wants to leave Haven. He opened his mouth, but Mary held up a hand to stop him.
“There is so much that you love here, honey. But I have encountered a great change, and I have something to ask you.”
Her face lit up in that angelic smile Gio did indeed love so much. “What I need to ask is; do you think you have love enough for one more?”
Gio stared at her for a moment. His brain was still processing this change from his hasty conclusion.
“One more?” He croaked. “I don’t-”
Then he saw Mary put a hand to her stomach, still smiling. And in that moment, the sheriff’s whole world shifted.
“Mary, my love.” He whispered. He hardly noticed as his hat dropped from his hands. He brought one hand to his mouth, his eyes filling with tears. He reach the other hand out to her. He barely registered the clicking of the shutter. All that mattered was Mary, dropping the shutter button as he swept her up into his arms and kissed her. She kissed him heartily back.
“You are the most wonderful creature in the whole world,” he whispered to her several minutes later. He sat them bth back down on the armchair. “And I love you more than anything, but will certainly find room to love a child of ours.”
Mary laughed and leaned her forehead on his. “I love you too, you ridiculous man.”
“...in any case, I’m bringing her to the Goose as soon as Elek opens.” Gio wiped his mouth. “I certainly have work for her in the office. Jones is retiring, and until I find a new deputy I’ll need some help. At least with letters and petitions and all that.”
“Jones is finally retiring. I never thought he would.” Mary drained her water glass. “I can’t wait to meet this woman.”
“I think I made the right call. Not jailin her, I mean. What do ye reckon?”
“Dearest, I would’ve been angry if you had jailed her.” Mary reached across the table and patted his hand, and helped herself to more bread pudding. Trenton, Haven’s baker, had made fresh loaves that morning, ust as Mary was walking by the storefront. She told her husband she simply had to buy one loaf for bread pudding. She and their cook worked out a recipe and baked it ahead of the hottest part of the day, to keep the house cooler. Mary and Gio didn’t have many servants, though some of the wealthier townspeople did. They had a cook, who often helped Mary, in an odd reversal of roles, and a girl who came a few days a week to help clean. Otherwise, they did everything themselves, including the washing.
“I’m glad you agree,” Gio said sincerely. “I have an oddly trustful feeling about the lass. Hard to explain. She’s pretty though, I hope Sass takes a shine to her.”
Mary made a dismissive pff noise. “Sass hasn’t had a fancy in all the time I’ve known you two, and that’s since we were all younguns.”
“Yeah but when we were 13 maybe, you didn’t go to school with us, that was the year your father took you out teach you himself. Sass was mad as hops about this girl.”
“What happened?”
“Well, nothing. She turned him down when he asked to take her to the races, and then her father inherited and move the family back east.”
“Poor Sass.”
“Ah, he moved on. He really got the morbs for a while, but in the end his true love became the bar. I hope he likes Kelly though.”
“A regular matchmaker, you are.”
“Well I certainly made the perfect match for myself.” Gio raised his glass to his wife.
“Indeed,” she laughed. “So, tell me, what is she like, this outlaw woman?”
“I just did?”
“No you told me what happened, but barely even described what she looks like.”
“Oh,” Gio said. “Well, I suppose she was pretty. She has blonde curly hair. I didn’t do much noticin of the lady, I was more concerned about the bullet in her side. She’s right stubborn, but very intelligent. She liked the horse screen particularly.”
“You’ll have to invite her to dinner, then, so I will get more than curly blonde hair.”
“Mary, my love,” the sheriff said nervously, “I can’t invite an outlaw on trial to have dinner. She may have murdered her husband, for god’s sake!”
“And you just said yourself that you hope your best friend falls in love with her! Now unless you and ass have had a fallin out that I was not made aware of, that suggests to me that you believe her to be innocent. You also said you found her to be trustworthy enough to not be placed in jail, but rather given a room of her own. In any other man I’d say you were thinkin with your peashooter and not your brain, but I know you. If you say you trust her, then I trust you. If the trial ends against her, then we will simply have been wrong.”
Gio smiled and shook his head. His wife never ceased to surprise him with her logic. “Alright, my love, if you say it is so.”
They passed a very pleasant evening, ending in Mary reading a novel by Jane Austen. New editions had just come from England, and she was finally reading them aloud to Gio as they laid in bed that night. Just as they finished the part where Mr. Bingley raced off to London and left poor Jane Bennet in his dust, Gio fell asleep in the arms of his wife.
And when he awoke, and remembered her news, he thought that Bingley was the biggest fool of whom he’d ever heard in his life.
Buy me a coffee at https://ko-fi.com/badgerpride
-–
For more Content, check out @contentcreatorshaven or www.contentcreatorshaven.com! We are a creator collective dedicated to helping each other make it in this very crazy world.
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Something Different {Markus X Android Reader}
CHAPTER 1: A Spark Like No Other
A/N: If you had read my other post, this is one of the stories I will be writing. Reader is the Android next door to Markus, both owners being very good friends. Readers owner is a photographer, and like Markus, Reader was a prototype gift from Kamski. I’m not sure how many Chapters of this I will be doing right now, but I will find out for the next chapter. In any case, I hope you enjoy!
EDIT: Got all the chapters for you guys. There’s a lot... I’ll edit in links when they are posted.
Chapter 2: Never Seen You Through My Eyes
Chapter 3: The Lonely
Chapter 4: City Of The Dead
Chapter 5: Pick A Star In The Dark And Follow The Light
Chapter 6: What’s Gonna Be Left Of The World If You’re Not In It?
Chapter 7: Love and Hate Are Beasts...
Chapter 8: She Depends On You
Chapter 9: Pictures We’re Living Through For Now
Chapter 10: The Precipice Of Change
Chapter 11: Raise A Glass To Freedom
Date: Nov 4th, 2038
Time: AM 05:24:28
The house was cleaned, clothes washed along with dishes, plants were watered inside the house, coffee was prepped, breakfast was finished, and all that’s left is the garden.
You always did leave the best for last.
Maybe it was the intended way Kamski made you, but you have always been most comfortable in places that were filled with all types of beauty and color. The garden owned by your owner, Aeron Raynott, was one such thing.
Aeron was a 28-year-old famous photographer, his pictures were known around the world, ranging from portraits to landscapes, panoramic photos, and so many more. He was a creative young man, ambitious, stubborn as a mule and known to not fear to speak his mind. Some called him an arrogant child, but many called him a genius.
Despite what the outside world sees and hears about him, you know him quite differently. He treated you well, very well. He always forgets that you aren’t human, often buying two meals when he was out for a day, only coming back to you telling him you didn’t require food. He says that your eye’s reminded him that of baby animals.
One day he told you that you had the eyes of an owl, big eyes filled with wonder, curiosity, and wisdom. He asked if you “Liked your eyes”, at first you only tilted your head to the side, telling him that ‘Like’ is a feeling, and that androids don’t have the ability to form opinions.
He had left it at that for that day, but ever since, he had not stopped trying to get you to feel something. In vain attempt of course, only getting smiles from you.
He thought of you as his best friend, he had told you this many times, and you were his #1 model. If he ever needed a model for a picture, he would beg you to do it. Even though you had told him many times that, no matter what, you would do what he told you to do.
Aeron was sleeping after having stayed up late editing pictures and picking which ones to present in the upcoming art exhibit, finally at 12:46 am you had convinced him to rest.
You found that your mind wonders whenever you were out in nature, seeing all the colors made your LED glow a pretty sky blue.
You were literally made to fit all of Aerons needs, Kamski made it very clear when making you that he wanted you to be different.
So, you were made to be creative, to be able to see everything in every little detail. You could zoom in with your eyes, and you could connect yourself to Aeron’s camera so he could take pictures through your eyes.
He did this a lot, not because it made him money, in fact, he almost never shows anyone pictures he takes with your eyes. He just loves the way you see things, he says he’s honored to even have the chance to see through your eyes.
The only person he has even shown those pictures to was the great Carl Manfred, your neighbor.
And of course his android, Markus.
You and Markus were close, as close as androids can get to another that is, and Carl and Aeron seemed to love having you two together.
Almost every day you two ‘run into’ each other while doing chores.
Speaking of which, you could feel his eyes on you at this very moment.
“Good morning, Markus.”
You say without turning to him, have been picking weeds out of some of the flower bushes. You spoke quietly, but no matter what low a volume you spoke, Markus always seemed to hear it.
“Good morning, Y/N. You are up earlier than usual.”
A soft smile is placed on your lips as you pick up the small bucket of weeds and turn to him.
He wore his normal dark clothing, his soft green eyes looked at you with what you can only assume is curiosity. You walk over to him slowly, the hedge that separated the yards being high enough for you to gently lay your arms on it, resting your head lightly on your arms and smiling up at him.
“Aeron was up late last night, knowing him, he will be up soon.”
“Again? How late this time?”
“12:46 am, unfortunately.”
Markus gave a small smile and shook his head.
“That late, huh? I have to say, you might be getting worse at being a caretaker that soon I’ll have to take over for you.”
You toss a few weeds at him over the hedge and turn away, going over to a bush you hadn’t started as you could hear Markus scuff a laugh.
“Will he be awake enough to meet with Carl today?”
You look over at Markus through your lashes, a smile gracing your face as you close your eyes and go back to the bush.
“I should think so.”
After this, a comfortable silence fell over you two, as Markus and you cleaned and cared for your respective gardens. You finished sooner and were now sitting upon a large rock in the big koi fish pond, and now you simply watched as they swam.
You had taken your shoes off and lightly tapped your toes on the top of the water, watching as the koi swam under your feet, brushing up against you.
You were lost in your own little world that you hadn’t seen Markus leave, or heard Aeron call you, then see you in the pond, and run back into the house, and come back out with his camera.
The click of said camera was what made you jump, turning your head and looking like a dear in the headlights as Aeron took several more pictures.
You smiled and let out a ‘breath’ of air.
“Aeron..”
“One more, one more, I promise!”
“Whenever you say ‘ one more’, you take 30 more.”
Aeron smiles at you from behind his camera.
“Okay, okay, one last one, I promise. I just need you to look into the pond as if you were dreaming again,” He knelt close to the edge of the pond, looking at you through the camera as he kept his ‘encouraging’ speech going.
“Look into it as if you see what you have always wanted. Longing for it, yearning for it!”
You do as he asks, looking dreamily into the pond. You weren’t really thinking of anything, much to Aeron's disappointment, it was very apparent on your face.
But as promised, he took one more pictured and helped you out of the pond.
You smile up at him and give him your automatic greeting for the day.
“Good morning, Aeron. Are you ready to start the day?”
*****************
Date: Nov 4th, 2038
Time: PM 06:05:01
“Leave the poor kids alone, Aeron, don’t you have enough pictures?”
You and Markus stand side by side as Aeron takes a few more pictures then turns to Carl, giving a look that made Carl laugh as Aeron whined.
“But Carl look at them! They are the epitome of perfection!! I’m surprised you haven’t painted at least Markus a few times. I know I would, I mean, look at him!”
It was at this point Aeron took a hold of Markus’ face, surprising both androids as he practically marvels at Markus’ face. Carl was shaking his head, watching as poor Markus had to endure having his face played with.
“Look at this beautiful, beautiful jaw line. And! And! Those strong green eyes that just pierce your soul! The perfection of his brows! UGH! And don’t get me started on the skin! Ugh, beautiful. Lovely freckles dotting his face, just in the right place just. Mmm, stunning. Perfect. Brilliant. You’re beautiful Markus, absolutely stunning.”
“Yeah, I see that you are making the poor boy incredibly uncomfortable.”
Aeron rolls his eyes and lets Markus go.
“Sorry Markus, you’re just so pretty. A perfect boy.”
“Uhm... Thank you?”
You look down at the ground smiling, a weird tingling in your chest as you watch Markus readjust himself and look at you again. The look on Markus’ face was too much for you as you put a hand up to your mouth, to poorly cover up your giggles.
Carl and Aeron got into another conversation, you and Markus simply standing idly by. It was then when Carl looked at you both and sighed.
“You two don’t have to stand and listen to us chat this whole time. Go on, go. Go find something to do while we chat.”
Markus nodded right away, but you were hesitant. Aeron chuckled and waved his hand to shoo you away.
“Go on, Y/N. You’ve been with Markus before, he won’t bite.”
You feel your thirium pump sped up when Markus turned to you.
“Why don’t we practice more piano?”
“That’s a great idea, Markus.” Carl nodded. “You two go on inside, Aeron will go get you if we need anything.”
With that, you nod and follow Markus into his and Carl’s home.
You had been in this house many times, and you had mapped it out since the third time you visited. So, you felt no shyness when being greeted by the house. Despite being here many times before, you still love to look at all the beautiful things in the house. You loved the birds in the front, and you adored the ceiling in the living room/dining room. Of course, the place you had loved to be to most was Carl’s studio.
Aeron’s studio was like Carl’s, with the wide open space and the big glass windows. Both places made you smile from ear to ear, but there was something about Carl’s that made you feel... warm?
Aeron’s had a feeling of being everywhere and everything all at once, something to awe at. And it’s not to say you didn’t feel comfortable in Aeron’s space, it was simply that you know what it’s like to be in awe of everything all the time.
You were programmed to take in over 7 billion things at once.
But, in Carl’s studio, you could... stop.
You could take in the simple things.
That’s one thing you liked about Markus as well, he made it so easy to be in awe of the little things that make life interesting.
Like, take now for instance.
You sit next to him on the stool of the piano and watch him play, and somehow he makes it very obvious that every key is important, that every note is important to form a song.
Markus made the little thing so important, so special.
You wish you could stop seeing the big picture all the time, and see the small picture. You wish you could be like Markus, to be simple and yet...
So, perfect.
“Y/N? Are you okay?”
You blink a few times before looking up at Markus, sitting side by side, it was difficult to not brush your shoulders together. That warm, tingling feeling came into your chest again as you looking into Markus’ eyes, only then seeing his LED flashing yellow.
“I’m sorry,” You shake your head. “I was... lost in thought.”
“About?”
“Hm?”
Markus turned his body a bit to face you a little more, showing all of his attention was on you. For some reason, that made your body feel hot, causing your cooling fans to work a bit faster.
“What were you thinking about?”
“I was thinking about how perfect you are.”
You quickly choose not to say what was on your mind as you turn back to the piano.
“I was wondering... how you manage to make it look so easy.”
Deep down, you knew Markus won’t fall for that answer, and the flashing yellow of his LED made that clear. But soon enough it turned back to sky blue as he dropped the issue, turning to the piano again.
“Well, it’s not as hard as you think. Here, play this on your side.”
Markus then played three keys on the low scale side of the piano, you copying him on the high keys.
Markus then played four more different keys, and you copied again. Markus then played four keys at the same time moved to another four keys.
This is when you gave him a look, to which he responded with a laugh and a smile.
“Look, it's not that hard-”
“It sounds hard.”
Markus shook his head with a smile.
“Look, I’ll show you. Just put your fingers-”
Before he could finish, he went to touch your hands to move them to the right spot, but something strange happened.
A surge of electricity shot through both your hands, making a blue spark appear between both you and Markus’ fingertips. This made you both jump up and stand up, you yelped and Markus gasped. The stool tipped over by how fast both of you stood up, making a rather loud thud.
Both of you felt something, both feeling a strange fuzzy feeling, it traveled from your hand up your arm and all through your bodies. You both visibly shiver from this feeling, then look at each other in shock.
“What... what was that?”
Your voice was low as you held your hand to your chest, Markus shook his head looking at his own hand.
“I’m not... quite sure what that was. It felt...”
“Strange...” You finished, looking at him with slight fear but mild curiosity.
Both of you had the same idea, as you slowly extend your hands to one another. As you go to touch the other, the skin on your hands fades, leaving behind the white porcelain fingers and palms.
Soon your fingertips touch again, no spark this time, but the warm feeling was very obvious. As you touched, a blue-ish huge starts to show on all the places your hands connected, and the warm feeling soon traveled from your hand to your wrist.
And from your wrist to your elbow, all the while, your skin disappeared more and more till nothing but white was your arm. Both you and Markus were in a trance by this, and suddenly you started to see things.
Not things, memories.
But, these memories were not yours.
You saw Carl and watched him paint, and eat, and you cooked and cleaned...
And then you saw yourself. In the garden behind your house. From this morning.
Soon enough it was too much and you snatched your hand away from Markus, gasping and holding your hand back to your chest as the skin of your arm went back to its S/C tone.
You were staring at Markus with wide eyes, as he stared back at you, not nearly having the same face of fear as you.
“I saw... I saw your memories.”
He spoke quietly, a lot softer and low than he ever had before.
You nod.
“I saw your’s too... With Carl and... and him painting and...”
“I saw me.” Markus tilted his head at you. “I saw me as if looking throw a mirror, it was like... watching myself in a movie. I saw myself walking and talking as clear as day... Did you... Did you see yourself too? Through my eyes?”
All you could do was nod, your stress was getting higher and higher, turning your LED into a blood red color. This is what brought Markus out of his daze, as he stepped forward to you.
“Y/N, I-”
You stepped back from his outstretched hand.
You were confused, and in awe, but most of all.
You were scared.
“Markus, Y/N? Are you two alright? We heard a noise.”
Carl was being wheeled in by Aeron, both the young man and the old man having concerned faces for the frightened looking androids. Markus was smart enough to cover for both of you.
“We were just playing and... we got up to go check on you both and the stool fell over. That’s all.”
Carl nor Aeron seemed convinced, but you nodded your head to agree with Markus. You didn't trust your voice enough to speak, so all you could do was nod.
“Well... Aeron was just about to leave, we came back in to get Y/N.”
Soon enough, you shook off your fears, your LED going back to its sky blue, and you nod.
“Of course, we shall be on our way then. Aeron, you have many calls to make as well.”
Aeron nodded slowly, then started making his way to the exit, you following close behind. Aeron said his goodbye to Carl and Markus, Carl doing the same to you and Aeron. And just as you were closing the door behind you, you heard something.
Someone, in your head.
Markus.
“Please... Meet me tonight when Aeron is asleep.”
You look back at Markus one last time, before closing the door behind you.
#detroit become human#detroit : become human#dbh markus#dbh markus x reader#x reader#dbh imagine#markus x reader#markus x reader android#reader android#fluff#slow burn#detroit become human imagine#something different
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A kpop newbie’s reaction to MAMAMOO
Alexa: bold
Alex: italic
today you’ll react to Mamamoo even though you technically already know them
i mean, i don't know all that much about them, really. so this should still be interesting
well, as before, first thing that comes to mind
should i do the top one or
they’re in the same order. we love consistent queens.
hmm... wheein? then uhhh, s-solar..? then moonbyul and of course my queen.
did you guess them or. you got two of them right !!
i did in fact guess them. oh. fuck it, i'll take it
hwasa and solar, m-my baby. the first one is moonbyul and the third one is wheein
i figured
and apparently this is their formation in every group photo ever
oh, good to know
so, the first one is moonbyul. how old do you think she is and what’s her personality
she's 23 or 24, and she's a lovable goofball
is she a singer or the rapper
f uc k uhhhuuhhhhh singer
smol baby child. yeah, she's born in 1992, so she's around that age in this photo i think. i’m not sure when it was released. she's the rapper in the group, so her image on stage is cool
i knew it was either her or solar, smh. i remember it distinctively from that height song.
but irl she's greasy and flirts with everyone, tomboy-ish and probably gay idk
alright, so she's the cool one
yeah, she's also the tallest, staying proud at 165 cm
that image was misleading smh. she looks like a silly nerd in it/ are you trying to sabotage my score, miss <-<
i mean, she Is a silly nerd. she usually makes lives with solar and flirts with her all the time and gets herself some slaps on the arm. and she gay panics on stage every time hwasa is in her close vicinity. and she's known for having heart eyes every time a girl talks and she's also the Girl Crush of the entire industry lmao
first we had heart smile now we have heart eyes soon enough you'll be describing a monster from soma. a walking blob made of exposed, beating hearts.
oH SHUT UP
*then i showed him the Wonderful Confession Immortal Songs performance*
that middle aged lady fangirling after hwasa goes "look at me now" lmfao
sadfrghgfdsDFGHJK ME.
this is fokin great. i just got to the rap part. fam they're genuinely talented don't @ me
mamamoo are known for making every show their concert lmao
pff. it do be like that, and i wouldn't have it any other way. a bunch of girl dancers suddenly appeared and i thought my vision was going blurry and i was seeing double. anyway, the rap works surprisingly well, considering the general tone of the song.
moonbyul also has two tattoos. i don’t know what one of them says, i think its just her family portrait.
w h o l e s o m e
but the other one says “N'oublie pas de t'aimer”
alrighty my grill next up is your bias
give her an age
i'll say 24. and she's a singer
she is 27 :)
oof, can you really blame me tho
i can’t. she has an actual baby face. what’s her personality?
i imagine she's sweet and soft, but can be jokingly sassy and teases the others sometimes
oof, she wishes. she’s the oldest, and the leader, but the other members always bulli her. she’s the mom friend though, and the best at english, even tho her english isn’t all that good anyway sdfghds. and shes a complete goofball
awh ;; is she the short one, then?
nop, shes the second tallest
wait hold up how can the leader be the one who gets bullied this doesn't add up
*then i showed him this marvellous video*
2 seconds in and i've seen enough
*then i showed him the Passion Flower Immortal Songs performance*
solar doesn't have any tattoo but she's scared of bugs so there's that
wholesome. she's a quality idol i like her. this song is dope yo.
the one wearing a hat there is wheein
the wheeout puns are overwhelming ngl
,,,,,,,,,,they fucking are. once u wheein u cant wheeout. she's the same age as hwasa, but a few months older, so hwasa is considered the actual "maknae" (which means youngest member
that much i know. mainly because i googled it a while ago
and here's wheein with short hair cuz fuck yeah
whats her personality?
she's uhh the Short One (tm)
yes, that too. she is Evil
idk, she seems like a sassy singer, but that's just a shallow impression. does she tease the other members a lot, or.. <<
tbh, she is pretty sassy. she's also very carefree and a derp. but she does tease the other members a lot and laughs when something funny and unfortunate happens to them. she's been friends with hwasa since middle school, and they have a couple tattoo
ooh, noice
on their ankle, they both have "resonance"
i've seen a picture of that somewhere, if i recall..
she has two other tattoos. one she drew herself, and one that says "la vie est courte l'art est long"
what's with the french affiliation. should i be learning french instead of korean?
probably.
*i showed him that infamous “mamamoo sold their friendship for ice cream” video*
"hyejin-ah, you know your thighs are the size of your face, right?" i told you, wheein is evil
c r i t i c a l h i t
hwasa :) what do you think her personality is like lmao
she's the serious one (sarcastic humor <<3), the lead rapper but also sings (i noticed this by watching some performances)(edited)i also know that she cooks for them, so extra mom friend points there and she's very independent, but also warm
omf u really are whipped for her
<-<;;;
apparently she really likes beyonce, so some fans call her ahn-yance
yep, shes also a big rihanna fan, and work is her hoe anthem
that's dumb, on one hand because it kinda sounds like "annoyance", and on the other because bey-ahn-ce is a much better pun. i would perform umbrella for her like tom holland, don't @ me
oh, also, hwasa has four tattoos. the "resonance" one, one on the back of her neck, with "maria", her christian name, cuz she is Holy
oh shiet. that name fits her well actually ;;
one on her arm saying “Paradise is where you are”
if she's in your immediate vicinity, then obviously
and one right above that one, that’s a triquetra
mamamoo are well known in korea, and most of their fans are girls!! i think theyre the group that appeals the most to girls there actually
oh, that's interesting
and here are some songs
*i showed him “Words don’t come easy”*
this is what we call s m o o t h g u i t a r. and that sexy sax, oh boye (and here is where alex’s inner Shiverbert Creepstein came out, god bless, the only writer i stan) this one's really nice, i'd love to listen to it in a cafe. there's this really nice mental image that you'll never achieve, but it's nice to think of anyway. just sitting alone in the corner of a dimly-lit cafe, watching the performers on the stage sing as you down another shot, people taking quick glances in your direction and wondering what it is you're thinking about, when in fact you're just listening to the music mix in with the raindrops hitting against the windows. i got carried away, oof
o damn, mister shiverbert
<-< hey, nobody clapped
its a nice lil image, though
anyway, that was a great song
*and here i showed him “Decalcomanie”*
oh, this one's more i n t e n s e. the translated lyrics without any rhyme sound like some sort of strange poem
i know;;
noh-noh is apparently knock knock. the vocals are fokin great
:(((((( stop slandering them, theyre trying
i'm not roasting them, i just find it cute ;;that was a nice song. in fact- (he pinned it)
so, last thoughts on mamamoo?
god bless them best kpop idols out there hwasa please sit on my face
amazing
ayy, that was this week’s reaction!! alex was actually more excited this time because it’s his ultimate bias’ band
there are some things i (alexa, cuz alex never edits these posts) didn’t mention, im sorry if i missed anything important;; i decided to focus more on what alex thinks and says this time, rather than ramble about stuff y’all already know
i hope y’all enjoyed this reaction and if you want, you can leave suggestions!! buh-bye~ ^ω^
#mamamoo#hwasa#wheein#moonbyul#solar#mamamoo reaction#reaction wednesday#mod alexa#mod alex#kpop#kpop reaction#mamamoo guide#mamamoo introduction#long post#hyejin#ahn hyejin#jung wheein#yongsun#kim yongsun#byulyi#moon byulyi#idk how to clutter this either#fml
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What We Were - Part 4
Some “job” this was turning out to be. It became more of a career, a lifestyle, a prison. I stood still and I sighed with despair. The snow was swallowing me slowly and the darkness grew thicker. My body is quivering. I look around me, hoping to find anything at all. I can’t see… Wait, over there? I force myself to take those few extra steps towards the mysterious object just within my field of vision… I’m almost there… Warmth, I feel warmth. It’s a cauldron, it has the Inquisition symbol. They passed through here, they can’t be far. I took in as much warmth as I could under the circumstance and I looked at the embers that were left. I had to keep going, maybe not for myself, but for everyone else…
An arrow breaks through the air and hits a bull’s eye on the target. I whistle in awe, “Maker that is one powerful machine,” “She was a gift,” Varric said placing Bianca safely by his side and posing as if for a portrait, his words were glittered with pride and arrogance; he then strutted off to fetch his arrow with Bianca in tow. I laughed, “I can’t shoot an arrow to save my damn life, but I can throw a knife pretty well.” I waited for Varric and Bianca to walk back and then I stood ready and I started pulling small knives from every pocket on my person and throwing them toward the target, Varric was watching the [archery thingy], but turned back to look at me when he realised that more and more just kept coming. He was like a mabari pup chasing the ball in his owner’s hand. Some of them were bull’s-eyes, some were on the outer rings of the bulls-eye and some went further than that, almost hitting passers-by. Varric nodded his head and shrugged his shoulders. I winced, “Sorry,” I shouted apologetically at Sergio the merchant man, “I mean I’m not terrible at it… I’m better at other things I think,” I paused, but quickly tried to defend myself again much to Varric’s amusement, “Also! I just fell out of a hole in the sky, I’m really rusty,” I said, realising I was almost screaming with excitement towards the end there. Varric started to laugh at me and raised his hands in surrender, “Hey, I didn’t say a damn thing; that was pretty good actually. What’s more impressive was how many knives you threw and where they all came from. I look back at you and I see you’re pulling a few out of your boots,” “Well,” I say as I’m walking towards the target and I’m collecting my knives, “I like to be prepared. I need more knives to try and hit as many targets as possible.” I walk back to Varric and I do a pose, as I say with pride “Quantity over quality!” Varric laughs again, this time harder and louder than before. It’s infectious, so I laugh too. When we stop, he takes a deep breath and says, “What are these other things you think you can do better, kid?” “I like telling stories more than anything, I don’t really like being out and about, but being out and about gets you really great stories,” “You know I’m a storyteller myself,” Varric says. I smile, “I know. I’ve read some of your work, but when I tell stories it’s more to inform the clan what I found on my travels.” I put up some air quotes, “I’m more of a “messenger”, but I like it. I have no magic in my bones, I wasn’t that good at fighting or even herding the animals, but I liked books and stories and secrets; and I liked helping wherever I could. I read as often as possible, left the camp as often as possible and I opened my mind and somehow I ended up being Dirthamen. I was just that person.” I looked over at Varric and he looked at me quizzically, “Dirthamen means Keeper of Secrets. That’s what my Vallaslin symbolises, the tattoos on my face.” Varric nodded his head, seemingly out of approval, “You’re a pretty good healer too, and I’ve seen you out on the field,” I told you, I like helping people“. I paused, “I don’t have many friends back home. Everyone tolerates me fine and is mostly nice to me, but I don’t really have friends. So I heal and tell stories to try and feel closer to everyone in the clan.” There was silence between us, “you and I have a lot more in common than we think, Sophie. Actually, you have a lot more in common with most of the people here, don’t forget that,” he said, like I was his friend, like he was happy to be spending time with me. Like this Inquisition was something that I could be a part of. We stood in a comfortable silence for a moment; Varric gets ready to say something, but stops. I look over at him quizzically, he sighs and chuckles under his breath, “so, have you made any friends here yet?” I stare at him and I take a deep breath, but before I can speak he stops me, “besides from me I mean.” He has concern in his voice, but I fold my arms and try not to flinch. “I mean Cassandra and I get on fine, I think,” “Sure, you’ve spent most of your time here with her, being her prisoner and whatnot, but what about everyone else? You and Solas could have a lot in common?” My brows knitted at this statement. Varric laughed, “I didn’t mean it like that-” “I get along with everyone fine, don’t I?” I hissed, “Well… You come off a little bit hostile,” I was a little bit offended by this comment, “Hostile?” Varric put his hands up in protest, “Hey, I’m not trying to hurt you.” I kicked the dirt under my shoe. Varric sighed, “I’m just trying to help. It’s been almost a month now and you haven’t really talked much with everyone else. We’re going to be here for a long time, you know that right?” Varric paused, hoping I’d have something to add. I guess I’ve been hoping this would all end soon so that I could go home and forget. I sighed, “I know that, I guess I just…” I sighed again, more frustrated now. “There are people here who really want to help, so get comfortable, kid,” he said. Varric was good company and we had a lot in common; books, stories, wine; I wasn’t rude to anyone else, I hope, but I just liked to keep to myself. I’m so used to just floating through the village that it is difficult to imagine one friend, let alone a whole group of friends – and a glowing mark that closes fade rifts, but I’m working on that. Varric could see that I was thinking too hard, “tell you what? I’ll shoot an arrow and if you strike it down the middle you win and I’ll buy you some wine and give you signed copies of my latest series.” I laughed, “okay, I can live with those terms and if you win?” Varric stood ready with Bianca and fired an arrow right into the bullseye, just like clockwork, he turned to me with mischief in his voice and affection in his eyes, “if you don’t strike that arrow down the middle, you have to go and speak to person closest to us in the vicinity,” Varric folded his arms as if there was no way he could lose. I looked around and all of the soldiers had packed up for the evening, but not too far away from us stood a familiar figure, Commander Cullen Rutherford. I tried to swallow my pride, but it got stuck in my throat. The commander and I got along fine, there were a few disagreements here and there, but I didn’t hate him. He was just a Templar with a completely stiff personality, that’s all. Leave it to Cassandra to take the evening off today of all days. “And wine,” Varric said interrupting my thoughts, “I’d like some wine too.” I calculated it in my head and I could win this easy, so I turned on my heel to stare Varric down and with confidence I said, “I’ll even throw in my first edition Memoirs of the Champion of Kirkwall, that I procured on a trip to Orlais,” Varric’s eyes widened, “First edition you say? I have a friend who’d love that. Okay deal.” There was fire in my eyes, “deal,” I said and we shook on it. I shooed Varric to the side and he presented the spot to me with open arms, I stood ready with my eyes firmly on the target, I steadied the knife in my hand and took a deep breath. I extended my arm as far as it could bend and as I exhaled, I pulled my arm forward and I let the knife release from my hand, it flew through the air and struck through the ring outside of the bulls-eye, nowhere close to the arrow. I tried to catch my breath but it got stuck in a gasp. Varric slung Bianca onto his back and began walking away; I tried to stop him, “Wait! Best two out of three?” I said with a pleading grin on my face, Varric just shook his head and laughed, “Send me that first edition when you can, I’d like to read it and I’ll tell the tavern girl that this one is on you, kid.” Varric waved me off and I just stood there shocked, I groaned with frustration. I looked at the target and then back at the commander. I could run away? No no, I’m not a coward. A deal’s a deal. I gathered my gear and took a deep breath; I turned on my heel and slowly approached the Commander. I didn’t hate him; I was just often annoyed by him. We sometimes had conflicting beliefs and other times we were almost inseparable, but there was something else. Bubbling under the surface, I didn’t know if I liked it or I hated it, but there was this indecisive, intriguing feeling that I always had when I was around him. He is handsome… NO, NO, NO. I was a skip away from him now and I had to say something. He hasn’t even noticed that I’m here yet. He seems stressed? Just always stressed… I plucked up the courage and the words burst out of me, “Hello Commander!” The Commander was a little startled, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you…” He laughed under his breath; his voice was deep and soothing… “I should be the one apologising. You must forgive me, I was just busy writing today’s report. Is there anything I can assist with? Are you ready for your trip to the Hinterlands tomorrow? I hear the inquisition is making waves around those part-” He noticed that I was giggling softly and he fumbled for the words, “Is something I said funny?” I shook my head profusely, “No, not at all. You’re always so tense; I just wanted to find out how you… were doing?” There was a silence, “I hope I didn’t offend you, Commander?” I asked sympathetically. The Commander’s cheeks flushed to the point where they were almost a bright crimson red and he began fumbling through sheets of paper as if searching for something to say. I laughed, “I didn’t mean to offend you, Commander. You’re just always working so hard, do you ever relax?” Cullen stopped fumbling and just stared at me for a moment, almost as if he had been wandering the desert and my question was a waterfall in the distance. I have never seen him look like that before. He chuckled under his breath and it was low and almost playful. I smiled because for a moment I think we both forgot about our troubles.
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Family Portrait ||Teen Sam Drake x Reader ||
Characters: Teen!Sam Drake x Fem!Reader
Fandom: Uncharted
Request: Nope (But please request! <3)
Prompt: You live in the high-end district of Boston and have been dating Sam for quite some time. He’s never met your family and is nervous that you asked him to join you for dinner at home. He’s scared your family won’t approve of the two of you, but things pan out a little different than expected.
Tags: @rafeadderall @missdictatorme @dragonjedihobbit (message me if you want to be tagged to get notifications of updates!)
Word Count: 1,538
A/N: Hello lovelies back at it again with more Sam Drake! hahah This idea popped into my head today, super cute I love it. Requests are open and always are so send through some guys! Also Teen Sam makes me feel things i love him bless. ALSO sorry if it bugs anyone that I write in third person, It’s just easier on me to write like that but yeah ENJOY <3
“-So let me get this straight, your family wants to meet me?” Sam repeated, he was in immense shock after Y/N, his girlfriend of four months asked him to join her and her family for dinner. His immediate reaction was to say ‘no, definitely not’ as he knew given that she lived in such a wealthy part of town he would be scorned. But he knew that she wanted him to come, and far be it for him to piss her off.
They sat perched on a tree branch over looking one of the parks, the nerves started to make his hands feel clammy with sweat. “You don’t have too, I just thought i’d ask-.” Sam cut Y/N off, shaking his head vigorously, “no, no I want to come, it’s all right.” She scoffed and eyed him, “No you don’t want to come, your only doing it for me.”
That part was true, he’d only do it for her and that was fact. “How do you do that?” He stared adoringly in her eyes, she had an incredible talent for reading people, most particularly Sam of all people. She giggled and tucked some stray hairs behind her ear, “do what?”
“Read me, so well for that fact.” His eyes flicked down to her lips and back up at her eyes, even though it had been four months he still took it easy with her, being polite and gentlemanly which Y/N knew was incredibly hard for him to do. “You quite literally are the most visually emotional person on the planet.” She poked fun at him, he was, he wasn’t shy when it came to emoting his feelings with body language or facial expressions.
He sat back, feigning offense, “ouch. That hurt Y/N.” She laughed and shrugged unbothered, “Oh sorry darling did I hurt your feelings?” she jabbed at his sides making him laugh and wrestle with her arms. The two started to wobble on the tree branch, if they didn’t stop soon they were going to fall off.
“Okay, okay, can we move closer to the ground where it won’t hurt as less if we fall over.” Y/N laughed before dropping down, swinging on the branch and landing on her two feet. Sam dropped down beside her, his hands immediately gripped her waist and he dipped his head down, pressing his lips onto hers softly.
Even after months of affection there was always that spark between them every time they touched and kissed. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, her hands stroking the back of his head as they both melted into the kiss. Pulling away, Sam rested his forehead on hers and smiled. She grinned up at him and brought her hands to his cheeks, her thumbs lightly grazing over cheeks.
“You can go home tonight, I don’t mind if you don’t want to have dinner.” She whispered lightly, she knew all to well how Sam felt about wealthy people, he found them particularly snobby. One night some months ago he voiced his disdain for the wealthy to Y/N, at that time he didn’t actually know she was a part of that ‘wealthy’ category.
He rolled his eyes and shook his head, “I’m coming. Aren’t you the least bit worried that your parents aren’t going to like me?” She shook her head confidently, “I know for a fact they’re going to love you... c’mon.” Stepping away she gripped his hand and started to pull him away from the park and in the direction of her house.
“So you haven’t even considered the possibility that it could be likely that they hate-.” Y/N cut Sam’s rambling off and laughed, reassuring him, “I’m positive, a hundred percent that they’ll love you alright. They aren’t the rich assholes you think they are all right.” Boy was she right, Sam didn’t know what was going to hit him.
In fact nothing could prepare him for the absolute mad house, Y/N’s house was. He knew very little about her family life and that was because she never really felt the need to tell him about it, she mentioned the odd brother or sister occasionally but never bothered to tell him in detail the happenings in her household.
A large mansion loomed over them, solid iron gates separated them from the monstrous house. “Woah..” Sam breathed out, he had never actually seen her house, not during the day at least. The sun setting behind it, casted a shadow that made the house appear bigger than it was. Y/N strode over to the speaker box, punching the buzzer button several more times than necessary for the sake of being a pain.
The gates opened and they walked in, passing the well kept garden with copious amounts of flowers, exotic foliage and buzzing bees. “You don’t need to be nervous, it’s fine.” Y/N assured, squeezing his incredibly clammy hand, he stammered and decided to shut his mouth to prevent him from making a fool of himself.
She opened the front door and everything Sam had imagine about Y/N’s life instantly shattered by the deafening screams of children running wild, teenagers yelling at one another only for young adults to start yelling at them to be quiet. It was like their own little orphanage with the amount of children running amuck. He wasn’t sure what to think, he simply just looked at Y/N with his eyebrow raised.
“Come on..” She pulled him through the house, dodging toddlers, dogs and children toys. In the large study sat both her parents, reading over each others written work, editing it as they read. “Hey mom, hey dad.” She waved from the doorway with her free hand, the other one was still connected to Sam’s, she knew he had questions and all would be answered.
Her mother stood up with a gleeful grin and walked over to her, hugging her, “Hello sweetheart - this must be Sam?” She pulled away from the hug and admired Sam, taking in his appearance before pulling him into a hug. He was stunned at first, he didn’t even have to utter a word to Y/N’s mother before she hugged him. Her father too stood up and walked over to the three of them at the door way, once Y/N’s mother stepped away he outstretched his hand for Sam to shake.
“Pleasure to meet you, son.” Whilst his voice was gruff, his words were kind and sincere. “Uh, you too sir..” He shook his hand nervously. “Finally we get to meet the boy Y/N talks so fondly about. You’re staying for dinner I assume?” Y/N’s mother cheerfully grinned, it growing wider once he nodded in response. “Perfect, I’ll have Diana set a place at the table for you, - if you’ll excuse me.” She darted past the teenage couple and off to the kitchen she went.
Pulling him away from the study Y/N waved to her father and shut the door behind her, now in the hallway. “What is this place?” Sam finally asked, the question burning in the back of his mind. She laughed, “home. It’s home.” He raised an eyebrow opening his mouth to press the question further when she cut him off by gesturing to a photograph hung proudly on the wall behind him.
It was a large group of people all assorted ages from just infants to elderly. “This is my family, Mom and Dad, who you just met, had five children another they adopted, i’m the youngest. The oldest, my older sister, has four children with her husband who lives here with us. My oldest brother and his boyfriend adopted two kids and they also live here with us. My second oldest sister had twins a year ago with her boyfriend and they live here too, and of course theres my third oldest sister who lives here with her boyfriend too and my twin brother. Oh! And Grandad and Grandma.” It was a mouthful to say, let alone to process.
Sam stood with his mouth agape, he had no clue Y/N’s family was so big, comedically big. “Jesus christ.” He breathed out, looking at the family portrait and then down at Y/N. “You see, I told you they’d love you.. and you wanna know something?” she wrapped her arms around his neck, grinning up at him. He started to calm down, his nerve slowly dying down but he still had to get approval from the siblings so he wasn’t quite safe just yet.
“What?” he carefully placed his hands on her waist and smiled at her. “We’re due for another family portrait soon, don’t suppose you’d like to be apart of that?” He looked at her, stunned at the question, my how the evening was turning out not at all like he expected it to. He was flattered to say the least and eyed her with a slight smirk on his lips, “what kind of question is that, I think you know the answer to that.” he leant down and pressed his lips onto hers thinking about how in just a short few weeks he’d be up on that family portrait.
#U4#uncharted 4#sam drake#imagines#fluff#this was so much fun#troy baker#one shots#request#teen sam drake#literally look at him#his lil freckles#10/10 would date
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A Lesson In Statistics
Prompt: The creator of Hamilton was the most anticipated guest speaker at a conference you’ve been planning for months. Since you were the youngest member of the committee, you were given the task to pick up Lin-Manuel Miranda from the airport, nevermind the fact that you didn’t know a damn thing about him.
Pairing: Lin x reader
Words: 6,428 (yikes)
Tagged: @sarajanesmith42
A/N: Welp, I hope you guys like it. Thanks to @how-could-i-do-this for being awesome with giving me suggestions and editing this mess.
There was a certain buzz in the air.
Of the three years that you had been a part of the OAH – the Organization of American Historians, a society devoted to the study of American History – this was the first time you’d experienced the magnitude of the crowds that littered the streets. Even more so, it was the first time you’d seen a melting-pot of people of all ages. There were small children being ushered through the crowds by their parents, teenagers trailing behind them with their headphones in their ears, and young adults excitedly taking in the sights and sounds of Miami.
This year for the OAH conference, three of the biggest hotels in the city were gracious enough to participate. The Marriot, Kimpton, and Hotel Beaux were all walking distance to the Miami Convention Center, offering their conference rooms for the speakers and mixers that were to occur during the three-day event. On top of that, there were over twelve workshops, at least ten guest presenters, and four networking events that you had painstakingly organized with the other eight members of the board.
A quick inspection of the masses, the majority of which wore the paraphernalia for the hit musical Hamilton, confirmed your suspicions. The headliner of the event was Lin-Manuel Miranda, the creator and star of the show. It was because of him that the interest of the public in American History had skyrocketed; consequently, his speech tonight was the reason behind the increase in attendees.
Your phone pinged from the notification of the driver arriving in front of your hotel, drawing you out of your thoughts. You had been nominated by the committee to escort him from the airport, all of them claiming that you would be the perfect person for the task due to your closeness in age. You scoffed as you tucked your notebook under your arm and flagged down the black Lexus, knowing that you had been given the job because you were the youngest member of the board. Thus, you were stuck with the bitch work.
“To the airport, miss?” the driver asked, looking at you through the rearview mirror once you climbed inside.
“Yes please,” you replied.
He nodded in response and then pulled off to the main street, starting his route to the airport. You flipped open your notebook, glancing at your notes on Mr. Miranda. Though digging through a person’s past was well within your repertoire, you were reluctant to admit that amidst the craziness of the planning for the conference, the only chance you’ve had to do your research on Mr. Miranda was a quick glance at his Wikipedia page this morning.
His accolades were impressive – the Pulitzer Prize and MacArthur Fellowship, especially – and though you’d never listened to the cast album of the musical, you were interested to meet the man who was solely responsible for weaving the worlds of rap, hip-hop, theater, and history together and being successful in it.
The ride to the airport was brief, and after confirming the location of his baggage carousel and promising to contact the driver once you were ready to be picked up, you made your way inside towards the baggage claim. You scanned the people that were crowded around the carousel, disregarding tourists and those dressed in regular clothes and eyeing the few men that were dressed in suits.
One, in particular, caught your eye, a flashy blue color that shone brightly among the dull décor of the airport. The man’s black hair that was pulled into a ponytail made you believe that it was Mr. Miranda; you’d Googled pictures of him to make sure you knew what he looked like – another detail that you would never admit out loud. When he turned to sit on a nearby chair after grabbing his luggage from the carousel, the hem of his slacks raised, revealing his socks. A quick glance at them – black with the portrait of Hamilton peeking through – confirmed that he was indeed the man of the hour.
You strode forward and gave him your friendliest smile when he looked up at you. “Mr. Miranda?”
He slipped his phone into his pocket. “Yes?”
“I’m happy to see you’ve arrived safely. My name is Y/N and I’ll be your escort to the conference,” you said.
He stood and shook your hand in greeting, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled. “Hi, nice to meet you, Y/N. Are you driving me to the convention center?”
You blinked quickly, slightly taken back by his presence as you shook his hand. You didn’t expect his voice to be low and raspy, and the genuine warmth in his eyes made the trepidation about being with a stranger, let alone a celebrity, disappear. The pictures you saw on Google did him no justice – you found yourself appreciating the sharp slope of his nose and the bags under his eyes.
Realizing that he was looking at you expectantly, you drew your hand back to your side. “Actually, I’ll be riding with you to the event,” you grinned, “I’m part of the OAH board – I’m in charge of introducing you during the seminar today.”
He paused, a wide smile spreading across his face, eyes shining with interest. “You are? Does that make you a historian too?”
“I am,” you answered, smirking when his smile got bigger, “I specialize in American History.”
He let out a low laugh. “They made a mistake by sending you to get me. I haven’t had a chance to geek out about history with someone in a long time – especially with someone as pretty as you are. They’d be lucky to get me out of the car.”
“I’ll make sure that doesn’t happen,” you snort, “or else I’d be removed from the board.”
“We wouldn’t want that happening,” he laughed, the sound bellowing and heartfelt. “I’m beyond ecstatic that you were the one to pick me up, but I was under the impression that Mr. Banks was the one who was going to meet me here?”
“Mr. Banks is currently hosting a forum. It was a last minute change, as one of our members got sick and couldn’t come down for the conference,” you answered.
His lips pulled down into a frown, concern flashing across his features. “I hope they feel better.”
You stared at him curiously, not expecting someone who was so popular be sympathetic to someone they didn’t know. “She’ll be fine; it was just a minor fever. Would you like me to carry your bag?” you asked, steering the conversation back to the matter at hand once you saw that it had been ten minutes since the driver dropped you off.
He waved you off when you tried reaching for his luggage. “Don’t be ridiculous, as if I’d let you do that.”
You faltered, finding it hard to see a celebrity be so… normal. “Well, if you say so,” you said reluctantly before you led him back outside. You shot the driver a quick text.
You snuck a glance at him from the corner of your eye. His hands were drumming against the handle of his rolling bag and his eyes were taking in the line of taxis that were waiting for customers. Uncomfortable with the silence, you decided to make small talk. “I’m surprised a mob didn’t greet you at the airport, Mr. Miranda.”
He laughed, a big “HA!” that made you feel silly for even talking. “Outside the world of theater, I’m pretty much a normal guy. And please, call me Lin. Mr. Miranda is my father.”
“But with all of the publicity Hamilton has gotten, I’m sure that you must have at least had a few people recognize you while you traveled,” you argued.
Lin scoffed, the smile on his lips broadening. “You’re much too kind, Y/N. I’ve only had two people interact with me today. One assumed that I was a waiter at the restaurant in the airport while the other cursed at me when I accidentally bumped into them.”
“Impossible. You should see the people that are attending the conference. For every ten people, I see at least nine of them wearing Hamilton merchandise,” you said, refusing to believe him, “statistically, that’s ninety percent of the people attending the conference because of you.”
Lin threw his head back and laughed, the sound so merry that it made you smile. When he finally composed himself, he turned to look at you, grinning from ear to ear. “Theater nerds, the whole lot of them. They have to be.”
A small honk caused the both of you to turn, interrupting your chance at a rebuttal. Recognizing the black Lexus, you led Lin to the car. The driver popped the trunk and hopped out, rushing to help Lin load his bag. Similarly, he waved the driver off, opting to introduce himself to the driver with a handshake instead. Your amusement turned to surprise when Lin opened the car door, beckoning you to go inside.
Weren’t you supposed to be the one catering to him?
Once the two of you settled in, the driver began to head back to the convention center where Lin would make his speech. The seminar was starting in forty minutes, and you’d instructed the driver to drop off Lin’s bags to the hotel where he would be staying. You shifted, placing the notebook that you had left behind back on your lap. “You’re basically a household name, Lin. Didn’t you have sixteen Grammy nominations? That’s a pretty big deal,” you continued.
He paused, regarding you intently. A flush crept up your neck, and you wondered if you had said something wrong. You fumbled with your notebook, fingers searching for the page where you wrote your notes. “Oh shit,” you cursed, reading over the page, “Hamilton had sixteen Tony nominations and won eleven. It won the Best Musical Theater Album at the Grammys.” You gave him a sheepish smile when he laughed. “Sorry.”
“Does your notebook also say that I like long walks on the beach too?” he teased.
You pressed your lips together and closed your notebook, embarrassed at being caught for not knowing a thing about him or Hamilton. “Sorry,” you apologized again, deciding to be truthful, “I’m not exactly well-versed with pop culture, or any of the arts, really. I may or may not have Googled you this morning.”
He folded his arms across his chest, smirking. “Like I said, only theater nerds know who I am.”
You inwardly let out a sigh of relief, glad that he didn’t seem offended. “I’m just an anomaly,” you replied. “I don’t really watch T.V. and I have my nose buried in history books most of the time, anyways. The first and only musical I’ve watched was Cats… it wasn’t exactly my favorite,” you confessed.
He comically pressed a hand against his heart. “Don’t disrespect AL Dubs like that,” he lightheartedly berated, “Cats is just as clever and brilliant as its composer.”
“AL Who?” you asked, confused.
“I – sorry. Andrew Lloyd Webber,” Lin chuckled, “he’s considered a God in the theater world.”
“Oh,” you mumbled, “noted.”
Lin laughed again and took a glance at his watch. “It’s alright, I promise I won’t tell him you said that. We’ve got about, what, fifteen minutes left before the seminar? I’ll give you a crash course on Broadway in the interim.”
You peered out the window, seeing the convention center only a block away. “As fun as that sounds,” you drawled, returning his smile, “we don’t have time for it. You still have to meet the rest of the committee.”
“Well I’ll make sure to find you after the talk then,” he murmured.
Your gaze dropped from his eyes, the intensity you found in them making you feel small. “There is a mixer directly after the seminar that you’re invited to,” you answered quietly, not really understanding why you felt the need to tell him.
Lin paused as the car slowed to a stop in front of the back entrance of the convention center. He gave you another long look, his eyes full of promise. “Drinks on me,” he said.
You felt your pulse quicken at his reply, dazed into silence. Luckily you were spared the chance to reply when the door opened, the sight of the smiling driver cooling the heated air between you and Lin. He climbed out of the car and you followed suit, ignoring the shiver that went down your spine when your arm accidentally brushed against his as you walked into the convention center.
The minutes before the start of the seminar passed by in a blur. Lin met all of the members of the board, including the chair, Mr. Banks. He was introduced to the other speakers that would be up on stage before him and was briefed on the program for tonight. You were not surprised to see that Lin was already on friendly terms with everyone before they took the stage.
You scanned the crowd during Mr. Bank’s opening speech, convinced that everyone had their eyes trained on Lin. You fought the urge to point out to him that there was a sea of people wearing Hamilton merchandise – proving your earlier statement correct – but resisted when the last speaker finished his presentation.
It was your turn to introduce Lin, and this time, you recited it correctly: Lin-Manuel Miranda, Pulitzer Prize winner, recipient of the MacArthur Fellowship, and the creator of the eleven Tony Award-winning musical Hamilton will now share his journey to developing the life of Alexander Hamilton into a musical. He will discuss the impact of Hamilton on society – from the growing interest of studying America’s history to the EduHam program that has helped shaped the lives of thousands of public school students.
“I’d also like to mention that he likes long walks on the beach,” you added last minute, face heating when the crowd blinked up at you soundlessly. You coughed, and behind you Lin cackled, causing your face to flush even more. “Well without further ado, I’d like to pass off the baton to the genius himself.”
After Lin’s speech, one that rightfully received the loudest applause of the night, he was immediately surrounded by the committee. There were people from the crowd that lingered, snapping pictures of him onstage, and you smiled when he peeked over to shoot them a warm smile. More colleagues approached the growing crowd around Lin, and you wondered if he was overwhelmed with the attention. Your question was answered when you heard his boisterous laughter: no, not one bit.
Eventually, the venue began to clear, and one by one the people who surrounded Lin lessened. You took another look at him, how he stood - legs slightly spread apart, arms crossed over his chest, eyes solely focused on the person he was talking to. Every now and then, he’d nod his head in agreement or rub his beard wistfully and tilt his head before he’d speak, hands animatedly moving as he shared his thoughts. As if sensing your gaze he turned towards you, a smile spreading across his face when he caught your eye.
The man who he was talking to (someone you had yet to meet) turned as well. He made a noise of recognition. “Dr. Y/L/N, it’s a pleasure,” he hummed, “I’ve yet to finish your paper, but I feel confident ins saying that it is brilliant.”
You saw a flash of surprise cross Lin’s features, but you ignored it to shake the man’s outstretched hand. “Thank you,” you answered, giving him a brief smile.
After a quick exchange of small talk, the man excused himself once he spotted Mr. Banks. You were left at the mercy of Lin’s probing eyes, and he raised his eyebrows at you curiously. “What?” you asked coolly, knowing his question.
“Doctor?”
“I’m not an actual doctor,” you said, grinning when he gave you a no-shit-why-would-you-be-here-look, “I just have a Ph.D. in History.”
“Just a Ph.D. in History,” he echoed, chortling, “and how about your paper that you published? What was it about?”
Your phone buzzed, and you glanced at the text message notification from your driver. “We’ll talk about it later,” you hummed, “our driver is here to take us to the hotel for the mixer.”
“You can tell me about it during the car ride,” he demanded, following you as you interrupted Mr. Banks who was mid-conversation with the man from earlier.
After a promise to share a round of drinks with Mr. Banks you continued on, Lin hurrying behind you. “The hotel is a minute away, Lin. I doubt I’ll have time to really explain it to you.” As an afterthought, you added, “Besides, I know you’ll enjoy the topic so much we need more than a minute to talk about it.”
He groaned. “You can’t say that and then expect me to let it go.”
You opened the car door, grinning. “Well, you’re going to have to. Get in, Lin. We have a party to attend.”
The car ride was brief, and the full minute to the hotel was spent dodging Lin’s questions about your paper. The two of you were dropped off in front of the hotel, another crowd full of Hamilton fans meeting Lin with shouts, screams, and flashes from cameras. A burly man led the two of you through the crowd, but it wasn’t him that made you feel safe– it was the warmth from Lin’s hand against the curve of your back, gently pushing you through the crowd. You glanced up at him in wonder, your heart skipping a beat as he gave you a reassuring smile.
Once the two of you were safely in the hotel, one of the board members led you to the conference hall. The room was already teeming with people, drinks in their hands as they socialized. Music filled the air and a full-service bar was nestled in the corner, a line of people already forming. Again, Lin, being the man of the hour, was whisked away.
You spent most of the night socializing with speakers, thanking the reps for the companies that sponsored the conference, and even catching up with former classmates from your alma matter. Every so often, you found yourself searching for Lin; from what you’d noticed, he was a socialite, so he’d have no problems whatsoever with mingling with the attendees, but you couldn’t help but worry about him.
It was 9:30 before you got a chance to sit down. You took a large sip of the cocktail the bartender placed in front of you, a fruity pink concoction that made your taste buds sing in praise at the sweet and tangy flavor.
“I’ve lost count to how many times I’ve been asked to consider writing a musical about a historical figure,” you heard Lin murmur as he slid into the barstool next to you. He lifted a hand to gain the bartender’s attention and ordered a rum and coke.
You took another swig of your drink, hiding your smile behind the glass. “We’re history nerds, Lin. What do you expect?”
“Can you imagine a musical adaptation of The Tragedy of Julius Caesar? I shudder at the thought of writing a song about the ghost of Caesar haunting Brutus.” He muttered, downing half his drink in one go.
You polished off the remaining pink liquid in your glass, weakly protesting when Lin opened up a tab to get you another. “You don’t have to,” you said, turning to face him.
He grinned, mirroring your pose, his right foot resting on the bottom rung of your stool and his elbow resting on the bar counter. You felt your face get hot at his close proximity, and the second the bartender placed your drink in front of you, you scooped it up and took a long swig.
“I want to,” he murmured, tipping back his glass to finish off his drink. He put the glass down on the counter and the bartender began to busy himself with preparing another round.
“I never got to thank you for coming to the conference,” you said, “we really appreciate what you’ve done for our community; it’s rare to see the public to be so interested in history.”
“Like I said, the ghost of Hamilton took hold of me and wouldn’t let me go until I finished telling his story,” he answered, taking his newly replenished drink and sipping it.
“You’ve somehow managed to create an intercourse between people of all different ages and history. Because of you, people know who Alexander Hamilton and Aaron Burr were, and are more willing to study them,” you said in-between the mouthfuls of your drink.
“Intercourse, you say?” he leaned forward, eyes gleaming.
Your breath hitched and you were suddenly aware of the clothing you were wearing. Your white button up felt too tight, the blazer you placed on top too heavy, and the stockings that you wore underneath your pencil skirt felt rough against your skin.
“You should come to my talk tomorrow morning,” you said, trying to change the subject, “I think you’ll like it.”
“Oh? You think so?” he asked, placing his empty drink on the bar counter.
You finished off your drink, your tongue darting out to savor the taste that lingered on your lips. You saw his eyes dart down to your mouth, and you noticed his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed thickly. “I’m going to be presenting my paper.”
“Am I finally allowed to know what it’s about?” he teased.
“I’ll be speaking about Jefferson’s moral beliefs and its influence on his diplomatic actions,” you replied, ignoring the sudden husky tone of your voice.
“Moral beliefs and actions,” he repeated slowly, his hand tightening on the edge of the bar. This time it was your turn to stare at his mouth when he bit his bottom lip, peering at you with hooded eyes.
“Yes,” you mumbled, trying not to squirm under his heated gaze, “I thought you’d enjoy the talk since Jefferson is one of the main characters in your musical.”
“My musical…” Lin hummed, “which you have yet to listen to. But we’ll go and remedy that right now.” He got up, looking at you expectantly.
“Hold on,” you protested when he pulled you to your feet. A girlish giggle escaped your mouth, and you felt lightheaded once your feet touched the ground. When he tugged on your arm, leading you towards the exit, you looked at him in astonishment. “We can’t just leave.”
“The event is almost over – I’m sure they won’t mind. If I promised you an intimate performance, would that tempt you to come with me?”
You didn’t know if it was the alcohol that was coursing through your system or if it was the way his lips lifted up in a mischievous smile, but you couldn’t help but let out a snort of laughter at the sheer amount of innuendos in his statement. “Are you hitting on me, Lin?”
“Earlier, yes. Right now? No. I’m not kidding, you’re about to get an exclusive performance of Hamilton by yours truly,” he answered smoothly, not even batting an eye when you sputtered in surprise at his confession of his attraction to you.
“Oh my god,” you whispered fervently when you passed a circle of people – Mr. Banks right smack dab in the middle of it. Your limbs felt stiff, but Lin kept his hand on your elbow, gently encouraging you to keep walking. “Oh my god,” you repeated again, hysterically giggling, eyes still glued to the oblivious group, “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”
Lin kept his face stoic, but the instant the two of you stepped over the threshold of the conference room into the lobby, he began to laugh. He cackled, the sound so loud that it caused a few bystanders to turn and watch.
“Lin, shut up,” you gasped through your giggles, pushing him to start walking when you noticed that some of the spectators took a second look at him. “The ninety percent – don’t forget about them,” you hissed, hoping that no one had recognized him.
“The ninety –” he stopped talking mid-sentence, snickering when he realized that you were talking about the chances of his fans being in the hotel looking for him. “Well come on then, let’s get out of here.”
You pressed your lips together, fighting back a smile when he looped his arm around yours. He led you to the back of the lobby towards the doors, and when it dawned on you where exactly you were going, you were the one responsible for turning heads with your laughter. “Oh my god, you weren’t kidding about the long walks on the beach.”
“Nope,” he grinned, holding open the metal gate that led to the beach so that you could enter.
You paused, observing him. For a split second, you let your thoughts consume you. The attraction was there; you could feel it. Even when he was across the room, you didn’t miss his glances your way. His presence was irresistible, and you found yourself drawn to his magnetic personality. He was handsome, smart, and witty – it had been a long time since you were exhilarated from playful banter – but then again, you’d also only known him for a few hours. Was it a good idea to go?
“Y/N?” he prodded, voice soft, “if you don’t want to go, I’m not forcing you to.”
Fuck it.
You toed off your heels and scooped them up into your hands. “You better give me the show of a lifetime, Lin,” you muttered as you walked through the gate.
He let out a sharp bark of laughter. “I always do.”
Tears were running down your face.
Lin had taken off his blazer so that you could sit on it, and was currently dancing in front of you, singing along to “The Story of Tonight”, which was blasting from his phone. His sleeves were rolled up, tendrils of his hair loose from his ponytail. His voice strained as he drunkenly sung in a fake French accent - it had you clutching at your stomach from the force of your laughter. You fell backward, laughing even harder when you heard his voice crack.
“You’re so mean,” you heard Lin whine, stopping his mini-concert to plop down next to you, “here I am singing my heart out – I think this is my best performance ever – and you’re laughing at me.”
You let out another giggle, peering at him through watery eyes. He was failing to keep a straight face as he looked down at you, his lips twitching up in amusement. “You deserve all the awards in the world from this performance alone,” you said, sniggering.
“Is that so?” he hummed, shifting closer to you.
You looked up at him, heat creeping up your neck when you saw the tender look on his face. The teasing retort you had been constructing vanished, and you subconsciously tucked your hair behind your ears as he searched your face. “I like what I’ve listened to so far,” you mumbled.
“Good,” he hummed, smiling softly.
You tried to focus on his words, but the world seemed fuzzy and you couldn’t take your eyes away from his lips. You barely heard “screw moral beliefs and actions” over the heavy thump of your heart. His close proximity caused the air to slow and thicken, and you found yourself closing your eyes and leaning into his touch when he cupped your face.
The first brush of his lips against yours was soft, a careful touch that left the ball in your court. He didn’t push, letting you decide whether or not to continue. You hummed, a zing of electricity shooting down your spine, awakening nerves that you didn’t know existed. You pulled him closer, arms weaving around his neck as you kiss him fiercely.
He groaned, relieved, and his hands weaved through your hair as he slanted his lips against yours. You felt him move, speckles of sand lightly hitting your legs as he hovered over you. You moaned against his lips and he took the opportunity to slip his tongue inside, tasting you.
You tightened your grip around him, pulling him closer, and you drew back to let out a groan when he moved to fit himself between your legs. Your skirt was hiked up your thighs, and you pushed back the worry of being discovered as he peppered kisses down your sensitive neck, pressing his body against yours firmly.
“Lin,” you whispered in-between kisses.
His grip on your hips was forceful but you didn’t mind, lost in the feeling of his soft lips moving with yours. You savored each touch of his tongue, the way he’d grind himself against you, and the small groan he’d let out every so often.
You lost track of how long you had been kissing, mind disconnected from your body as you enjoyed his touch. He suddenly drew back and your eyes fluttered open at the absence of the warmth from his body. You sat up and watched as he reached for his phone which was buzzing from a call.
“Mr. Banks?”
Blood drained from your face at the sound of his name.
“Hi, yes. I made it to my room safely,” he lied, “Yes, I would be honored to have lunch with you tomorrow before my flight. Oh, you can hear the waves from the ocean? I, uh, opened the windows to my hotel room.”
You pressed your lips together to stifle your laughter as he winced. He said his goodbyes to Mr. Banks, and you used your fingers to comb through your hair, hoping that it didn’t look as messy as it felt. Your heart leaped up to your throat once he slipped his phone back into his pocket, regarding you tenderly.
“W-What is it?” you stuttered, feeling self-conscious.
“You’re really beautiful, you know that?” he said, shifting forward to press a quick kiss to your lips.
“You are too,” you murmured, brushing off the sand that had somehow gotten in his hair.
A small smile was on his lips. “You don’t regret anything, right?”
You watched as he stood, brushing off the sand on his pants and shirt, lips still tingling. “Of course not,” you asserted, accepting his hand, “it was really nice.”
“Just nice?” he scoffed, pretending to be offended, but once he took a glimpse of your legs that were still exposed, he became silent. He reached forward, gently sliding down the material back to its original length.
Your breath hitched. It felt so intimate.
“It was… distracting.” He muttered, and the slight redness you spotted in his cheeks made you smile.
“It must have been more than nice for you then, huh?” you teased as you grabbed his blazer from the ground.
He gave you a sad smile. “It was amazing… but short-lived.” He took his blazer from your hands and dusted it off before putting it on. “I don’t want tonight to end.”
“Unfortunately, it has to. My talk is tomorrow at 8,” you said, grabbing your heels. "Come on, let’s walk back to the hotel. I have your keys and your room is on the same floor as mine.“
You noticed the sad look on his face but didn’t think much of it. During the walk back to the hotel, Lin seemed much more reserved. It was unusual, but you assumed that it was because the day’s events had finally caught up with him. When the two of you stepped off the elevator to your floor, you turned to him, wondering if you should ask about his sudden withdrawal.
“Your room is that way,” you said, pointing behind him. You fished out his keycard, pausing to see if he had something to say.
“Thanks,” he mumbled, inspecting the card. “My flight is tomorrow at three. I’m supposed to have lunch with Mr. Banks at noon and I know your talk is at 8 in the morning… but will you have time to see me before then?”
You pursed your lips, mentally going over your schedule for the next morning. “I’m not sure, I’m supposed to be monitoring a workshop at eleven.” You spotted the deep frown on Lin’s face, and you felt unsettled.
“Well, then I guess this is it,” he muttered, finally meeting your eyes.
“…I guess,” you finally said, struck at how his usually expressive eyes were now empty and cold. A cloud of doubt settled over you, and you began to second guess your decisions. Maybe Lin regretted everything? You crushed the business card that you had taken out earlier in your hand - the idea of giving him your number now felt stupid.
Lin hesitated, clenching his jaw before he spoke. “It’s been nice, Y/N.”
His words seemed like a slap in the face. “Likewise,” you replied, turning on your heel to walk to your room – the opposite direction of his – vision cloudy from the unshed tears of hurt from his words. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You stopped and turned, looking at him one last time. “Have a safe flight, Lin. Thanks for the special performance.”
The next morning, as you sat onstage while you waited for your turn to talk, you tried to push away your thoughts about Lin. You had woken up to room service, a platter full of fresh fruit and breakfast pastries, and a note that read “good luck”. You immediately knew who it was from, but rather than feeling thankful, it caused the anguish that you felt over the cold goodbye to strengthen. You didn’t like how you had parted ways, didn’t like how he made you feel foolish. Knowing that the two of you weren’t going to have a chance to sort through your feelings made you sad.
The call of your name made you look up from the ground, and you took a deep breath, forcing yourself to calm down and focus. With a smile, you stood and headed to the podium. The familiarity of speaking in front of a crowd caused you to feel at ease, and you smoothly began your lecture on Thomas Jefferson’s religious beliefs and how it shaped his diplomatic decisions during his presidency. The fifteen-minute talk felt brief, and you answered questions from the crowd effortlessly.
You pointed at the remaining hand raised in the middle of the crowd, smiling when you recognized the figure.
“Professor Y/N, will you be offering a class on this topic next semester?” Andrew, one of the graduate students attending your school, asked.
“Andrew is a fourth-year graduate student at NYU,” you explained to the audience, “who always seems to find a way to register for the undergraduate classes I teach.” You waited for the laughter from the crowd to die down before you answered his question. “I’m not sure, Andrew. If I can get the dean to accept the course and maybe if I have another person other than you to register for the class, maybe I will.”
Andrew beamed and sat down, satisfied with your answer. The facilitator took your place at the podium, signaling the end of the seminar, coaxing another round of applause from the crowd for your speech. When you stepped down from the stage, a few of your colleagues approached you, wanting to follow up on their questions and congratulating you on your published paper.
When the wall of people finally disappeared, you blanched at the sight of Lin standing before you.
You stood rooted to the spot, speechless.
“Why didn’t you tell me you’re a professor at NYU?” he exclaimed.
Feeling defensive and not liking his accusatory tone, you crossed your arms over your chest. “Well, you didn’t ask,” you replied haughtily, “and you were being such a jerk last night after-” you paused, lowering your voice in case the people lingering in the room were eavesdropping, “…after we kissed at the beach.”
He let out an incredulous laugh and ran a hand down his face. “I just… I kissed you knowing that I was risking being hurt by not being able to see you again. I’m so infatuated with you, it’s ridiculous. If I had known that you lived in New York, I wouldn’t have been such an ass to make the goodbye less upsetting. I’m sorry.”
When you pieced together the reasons behind his actions and his body language the night before, you sighed. It made sense. “Well, I do live in New York,” you muttered, deciding to give him a hard time, “so what are you going to do about it?”
“The first thing we’re going to do once you get back is to get you to watch Hamilton,” he said, taking a step towards you, “then we’re going to my place and I’ll cook you dinner. We’re going to stay up all night so that I can know every single thing about you. That way, I won’t make stupid assumptions again. You can go home if you want, or you can stay and we'll… sleep.”
You glared at him when he began to walk towards you, a mask of indifference on your face. When he didn’t stop, you took a step backward, eyes darting towards the people that loitered in the room. “Lin, wait,” you said nervously, feeling their prodding eyes, “You’re forgiven. Yes, I’ll watch Hamilton and yes we’ll go on dates… Lin, the whole room is wearing Hamilton merchandise – that’s a hundred percent of people that are here to see – ”
He cut you off with a kiss, and your protests vanished as your body melted against his. His hand rested on the curve of your back, pressing you closer, and you heard him sigh against your lips as you kissed him back.
He pulled back, breathing heavily. “Am I forgiven?”
“If you finally accept that you are a celebrity and that there are at least ten people in the room taking a picture of us,” you growled, “and if you explain to Mr. Banks, who looks like he’s seen a ghost right now, that I am not a sleaze that hooks up with their clients, then maybe.”
He cackled and gave you a flirty smile. “Follow that up with a walk on the beach and I will.”
“Go!” You pushed him away from you, but the smile on your lips betrayed your feigned exasperation. Your heart skipped a beat when he gave you a fond smile before rushing off to Mr. Banks, elated.
You couldn’t wait until you were back home.
#lin x reader#:))))))#lin manuel miranda imagine#lin manuel miranda fanfiction#lin manuel miranda preference#hamilcast x reader#hamilcast fanfic#hamilcast preference#hamilcast imagine#lin manuel miranda x reader
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#1 Dad- Hoseok (J Hope) Fluff
Request: Can you write a scenario where Hobi and the reader have a kid that just started going to school and Hobi tries to be "the cool dad"?
Word Count:1074
Member/Group: Hoseok of BTS
Summary: It’s hard to fit in with the new generation, but that doesn’t stop your husband from trying.
A/N: I have the flu (yay) and am literally dying, so enjoy this product of my NyQuil induced haze! By the way, this is NOT edited, so sorry for any mistakes!
“Appa! Wake up!” Your four year old son, (B/N), leaped onto his father’s chest as you laughed.
“I’m up, I’m up...” Hoseok groaned, rolling over on the white sheets and stretching out his long limbs.
Today was (B/N)’s first day of preschool, and you couldn’t tell if Hoseok or (B/N) were more excited. It had taken a long time of begging for Hoseok to convince you that it was time to have a kid, and it was unbelievable how fast your child was able to grow from a bubbly baby to a troublemaking toddler. As soon as (B/N) turned three, Hoseok had begun looking into preschools in the area that he could start going to when he reached the necessary age. After all that research, he finally was able to convince you to let your son go to a small private school that would begin to prepare him for kindergarten.
You slipped a thin cardigan on top of your pajamas and made your way to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for yourself and the two boys. Every few seconds, a loud yell would erupt from the room along with a chorus of giggles. Trying to focus on making breakfast was difficult when you could hear the fun being had without you, but you needed to ensure that everybody ate before they started their day. The pattering of small footsteps was followed by (B/N) clutching your leg and tightening his arms as he let out a playful scream.
“Eomma! Appa is trying to tickle me! I told him if he did, I would tell you but he won’t stop!” Hoseok’s sleepy footsteps grew louder as he entered the kitchen. He kissed you on the cheek, before releasing a villainous laugh.
“(B/N), if you don’t let me tickle you, I am going to send Eomma away to a tower, and you’ll never see her again!” Suddenly, your son stopped laughing, and he dropped onto the ground as hot tears began streaming down his face.
“I hate you, Appa! You can’t send away Eomma! I won’t let you!” He sniffled, and you sent your husband a death glare.
“Hoseok, keep an eye on the eggs. I’ll go calm down (B/N).” Hoseok guiltily looked down, and you lifted your son on the counter.
“(B/N), your Appa was just joking. He loves you and me, so he would never send me away from you two. If he tried to, he knows that I would steal you away from him so I could keep you all to myself.” You wiped your son’s cheeks, and set him onto the ground. “Why don’t you go get dressed for school, and me and Appa will finish making the food?”
(B/N) scrambled to his room, and you walked back over to the stovetop. Hoseok slipped his arms around your waist, sighing as he leaned down and tucked his head into the crook of your neck.
“I was just trying to play around with him... Is it because I work so much? I just feel like he doesn’t like me as much...”
“Babe, don’t worry. He loves you a bunch, he just is too little to understand that you are joking. Don’t take it to heart.” Hoseok nodded, and your ears pricked up as you heard (B/N) making his way back into the kitchen. “(B/N), go sit down at the table. Appa will bring you your food.”
After eating, the entirety of your small family loaded up the car and began to drive to the school (B/N) would be starting at. The drive was mostly quiet, with Hoseok running his thumb over your knuckles and (B/N) loudly singing his father’s songs while looking out the window and bouncing in his car seat. As you pulled up to the front doors, (B/N) gathered his bags and leaped out of the car. He latched onto your hand, and Hoseok followed behind the two of you, smiling to himself as he looked at the two most important people in his life. The hardest part was sending him off with the teacher, but there were no tears and you were on your way back home within minutes.
“Babe, you think he’ll be okay, right?”
“(Y/N), he will be more than okay. We’ll pick him up in a few hours, and he’ll be back in your arms before you know it.” Hoseok kissed you on the cheek before opening his car door. “Do you me to help you do laundry? It’ll take your mind off of (B/N) being gone.” You nodded, and you both entered the house and went to do some housework.
“Hi, we’re here to pick up (B/N).” The teacher nodded and went back to get your son from the classroom. You fidgeted and looked up at Hoseok, who smiled and laughed.
“You look happier now than when we got married!”
“Shh... at least you managed to rope me in and marry me, Hobi.” (B/N) emerged from the classroom, holding a piece of paper in his hands. He politely said goodbye to his teacher, and you all got back into the car to begin the journey to the house.
“(B/N), how about we have ice cream when we get home?”
“Yes, Appa! Can Eomma have cookie dough though? I know she likes it.”
“Of course, (B/N). What did you draw at school today?” Your son excitedly leaned up against the space between the driver and passenger seats, and placed the paper in your hands.
“I drew a family portrait!”
“Ummm... (B/N), why did you draw four of us when there are only three of us?” Hoseok looked over at you, confusion evident in his features.
“Because I want a sibling! Appa, can I have one? I promise I’ll take care of them and teach them how to walk!”
“If you say I am the coolest dad ever, I’ll try as long as Eomma agrees.”
“You are the coolest dad ever!”
“Okay, (B/N). You’ll have to wait a bit, but we’ll try to find you a sibling.” (B/N) happily leaned back in his car seat, and Hoseok laced his fingers through yours once again.
#hoseok#hoseok fluff#hoseok imagine#hoseok scenarios#jhope scenarios#jhope#jhope fluff#jhope imagine#bts#bts jhope#bts scenarios#bts imagines#bts fluff#kpop#kpop scenarios#kpop imagines#kpop fluff#x reader#reader insert#requests are open
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practice challenge 1
a/n: so I finally got this done, enjoy!
I hated Sundays.
They were the days when we had the least amount of food, and the most work to do. Mom finishing her paintings, my twin Isaiah could be heard belting out songs to prepare for whatever party he had the next day, or one of my older brothers Declan frantically practicing the piano. I guess the only perk was that being so busy kept us from focusing on our small meals, but still, I only had so many pictures to edit to pass the time. Eight year old Nolan had the toughest time, being too young to make any money for the family, leaving him to try and distract himself by practicing his art. Although he only got so far before he bugged each of us one by one, trying to ignore his increasing appetite.
It was at my desk near the end of the day where Nolan found me, having already made his way through the rest of the family.
"Whatcha doing Emmy?” he asked, peeking over my shoulder. I looked over at him and smiled, his eager expression impossible to get annoyed at.
"Sorting through the portraits I did for the Keller family." He gently reached out to flip through the photos, smiling when he came across their youngest daughter, a pretty redhead.
"I like her hair, she's pretty." I laughed, thinking of how he thought every girl his age was pretty. Nolan had always been a sweetheart, making him popular among the other little girls in our neighborhood.
"Her name's Hazel, she was sweet. Her whole family was actually, they're Threes." He nodded at my words, before getting bored again and hopping on my bed, looking at my wall of pictures next to him.
"Who are Threes?" a voice asked from the doorway, but I recognized Isaiah's deep voice, so I didn't look up from what I was doing.
"A family I shot yesterday," I answered. I heard him walk in and plop down on my bed, Nolan's giggles joining him as Isaiah probably scooped him up.
They had been a genuinely kind family, and it showed through their portraits. They had two daughters, Cleo the older one at 15 and Hazel 8 like Nolan, sweet and bubbly girls who I had fun photographing. Their parents were so in love and happy that it was easy to take gorgeous of the pair of them, especially when the whole family was together. I didn’t need to do much editing, but I was doing a third run through to make sure I hadn’t missed anything.
"Hey Em?" another voice called and I sighed, wondering if I could ever get any work done with so many brothers around.
"Yeah?" I asked, looking up at Declan, his tall frame filling my doorway.
"Liam called, he was wondering if you could take pictures of the girls later this week." My oldest brother Liam had just had twin girls a few weeks ago, April and Audrey, and wanted to remember every single moment. It was sweet, but I had already taken portraits of them twice, and he was getting a little crazy about all of it.
"I'll call him back tomorrow," I told him, putting the pictures away, figuring I wasn't going to get much work done with all of my brothers together. I swiveled my chair around, watching Declan walk over and sit down next to Isaiah, reading over some sheet music in his hand. My bed wasn't very big, so they were all pretty cramped together leaving no room for me.
"What's wrong Em? Can't focus with my amazing presence?" Isaiah asked with a smirk.
I rolled my eyes, "More like your annoying one."
The grin slipped off his face and he stuck his tongue out at me.
"Real mature, Iz,” Declan said, only making Isaiah flick Declan on the ear. Declan simply ignored him, used to his ways.
This was how it usually went when we were together, Isaiah saying something dumb and one of us talking back at him, Nolan happily listening in the background. We all doted on him though, being the surprise baby of the family. Especially since my dad had died when I was 13, we tried our best to somehow make up for that in whatever way we could. My heart skipped a beat when I thought of my dad again, but I ignored it, trying not to dwell on it for too long.
Suddenly Isaiah stood up and put Nolan on his shoulders, belting out a show tune as he spun around the room with him. I smiled as I watched them. However annoying my twin could be, he was the sweetest big brother.
I noticed my mom pop her head in my room, no doubt drawn by the noise and grinning when she saw the sight of us. I could see paint on her nose and covering the front of an old button up, a usual sight for her.
"Declan honey, would you mind helping me with the shopping tomorrow? I need to finish up this project for the Clarkes," she asked. He looked up from his sheet music at her, his eyes unfocused. This was how he usually got a few days before a performance, practicing nonstop and generally unable to talk to for a few minutes without losing his attention to his music again. It paid off in the end. He was one of the most talented pianists in our province, for a Five.
“Sorry mom, can’t. I’m playing tomorrow night and I need to get this one section down,” he answered, looking back down at his music once again.
“Emmalyn, how about you?” she walked further into the room, leaning against the wall and crossing her arms.
I nodded, “Sure mom, that’s fine.” She smiled gratefully before leaving, going to finish her painting.
This was how it went during the week, mom would do the shopping on Mondays and we’d try to help out depending on the jobs we had or how busy we were preparing for a job. The rest of the week would follow the same pattern, jobs or preparing for them. I would hang out with my best friends Layla and Jake if we all had the chance, Isaiah joining in since Layla was his girlfriend. Then when Sunday came, the cycle would repeat again like always, sprinkled in with some visits from Liam when he could come over. I didn’t usually mind it, too busy to think about anything else, but sometimes I just wished for something… more.
I didn’t have time to think about it much longer when Isaiah threw a pillow at me, resulting in another Atwood family pillow fight to erase any thoughts of my silly dreams.
Except, of course, fate had a funny way of throwing things back in my face when the letter came in the mail a few days later.
"To the House of Atwood..." I muttered to myself, sighing as I scanned the rest of the paper. I had forgotten that the prince turning 19 meant his Selection beginning soon. It seemed too much that I had been thinking about finally doing something more with my life and then this letter popping up.
No. No no no. I refuse to subject myself to that.
I shook my head and stuffed the letter away in my bag, trying to forget about it as I headed out the front door to go on another shoot a few streets over. Thankfully it was warming up now that it was spring, so I only needed a light jacket. Baffin was cold and snowy most of the year, making for miserable winters, but beautiful scenic photography in the mountains where we lived. That, at least, was a plus for living here. But I still longed for warmer days, to visit a beach, and to not have to wear a snow jacket six months out of the year.
I erased those thoughts out of my head as I reached the Hart’s house, readying myself for dealing with one of the snobbier Two families in our town.
To my annoyance, I couldn’t get the stupid letter out of my head days later. It didn’t help that the Report was broadcasting it every chance they got, and every girl in town was talking about it.
I was muttering to myself as I tried to organize my desk drawer unsuccessfully (anything to keep my mind off the Selection) before finally slamming it shut and falling back onto my bed with a groan.
“Someone’s happy today,” I heard from my doorway. I didn’t bother to look or get up, knowing Jake’s voice anywhere. Layla’s voice joined his with a “Leave her alone!” before coming over to lay down next to me.
“Well aren’t you the perceptive one,” I retorted, not really in the mood to deal with his sarcasm. I heard him walk across the floor to lay down on my other side and I sighed. The silence was heavy as they both waited for me to say something, knowing I wasn’t usually this crabby.
“Sorry, I just can’t stop thinking about this stupid Selection!” I explained, throwing my hands up in the air in frustration before letting them fall on my face.
“Mind explaining to us why? I didn’t peg you for one of those fanatics who wants to be queen, Em,” Jake questioned. Well, that much he was right about.
Layla grabbed both of my hands and moved them off my face, forcing to me look at her pointed expression. I sat up and leaned against the wall, Jake and Layla following my lead and forming a little circle on my bed.
“It’s just… I know it’s dumb, basically parading girls around for the royal family and the public’s enjoyment, especially the Prince’s. But I can’t help but think that maybe this could actually be something great,” I admitted, fiddling with my hands.
Jake raised an eyebrow, “How could it be great? You just pointed out everything that's wrong with it.”
I rolled my eyes, “I know, Jacoby.” He scowled while I smirked, knowing he hated it when we called him by his actual name.
“I keep thinking that if I stay there long enough, imagine what it could do for my family. The exposure I would get, it could mean huge changes for us. And really… we need it. Desperately,” I explained. My mom had been claiming we were fine with money, we would get through it, but I could see how much she had been struggling to make ends meet lately. Even if the older four of us contributed as best we could, it wasn’t always enough. I knew we had all been saving some of our own earnings privately, Declan to move out and have a life of his own, Isaiah was planning to propose to Layla on our 18th birthday, and me? I wasn’t sure exactly what I was saving for, but it was something big, I knew that much.
“Do you really want to put yourself through all of that? You know some of those Twos and Threes can be brutal,” Layla asked, her blue eyes worried.
“You know I have no problem handling myself if I needed to,” I pointed out, remembering all the little girls who had bullied me when we were young and how I had handled myself just fine. With Baffin snowy most of the year, it left the other girls with some pretty creative ways for other girls to mess with me.
I had been mouthy when I was a kid, not knowing when to not pick a fight if someone provoked me, but as I grew older I learned. Now, I was friendly with practically everyone I met.
But if I needed to, I had no problem defending myself if the situation called for it.
“Trust me, Em, we know,” Layla agreed with a laugh. Jake didn’t say anything, eyebrows furrowed.
“Jake?” I asked, nudging his foot with mine.
He peered at me with a wary look, “We know you can deal with those girls just fine, but the prince? I mean, he’s the whole point you’d be going. You’d what, pretend to like him for however long you need to leave?”
“No. If I’m going to do this, I’m going to be honest. And if anyone asks, I’m doing this for more opportunities than what being a Five can offer. They can take that however they will, but we know why I’m doing this, and that’s what matters,” I assured them.
“And if he’s an absolute ass? What about then?” Jake persisted, but I he was only looking out for me. We had started dating right before my 16th birthday, only to break up almost a year later when we realized that being friends was actually a better alternative for our relationship. Since then, he had been even more protective than when we had been dating.
“He’s still just a guy, regardless of him being royal. Obviously I won’t get myself killed for treason or anything like that,” I added with a laugh, getting only a smile from Layla. “I can still handle myself with Dominic, no matter what it is,” I said firmly.
They still looked skeptical so I grabbed one of their hands with my own.
“I also need to do this for myself. Maybe being in Angeles will give me something I never even dreamed I could have, and I’m willing to take that chance,” I admitted, my voice soft.
Layla sighed before squeezing my hand with a small smile, “Then, I support you. We both do.”
Jake smirked, “Well maybe I don’t.” Layla rolled her eyes and kicked his leg, resulting in a muttered swear from him and a laugh from me.
“Besides, I might not even be Selected. So this could all be for nothing,” I offered, figuring that all this talk and anxiety would most likely turn into nothing. But still… there was that small flicker of hope that drove me to fill out the application that night with Layla and Jake beside me. We laughed and joked about my answers, while I cringed at how bland I sounded.
I guess that’s how every girl might sound on paper.
They left before curfew hit, but not before giving me a tight hug, wishing me the best when I turned in my application the next day. I wouldn’t tell my family anything, not until I knew it would even be real. There was no need to get their hopes up.
So when I sat down on a chair before a camera in the Provinces Office, I smiled as genuinely as I could, picturing the faces of my family, and how if this turned out the way I thought it would, nothing would be the same from here on out.
Here we go.
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do the entire list dude
1. Would you have sex with the last person you text messaged? i cant remember the person i texted rip2. You talked to an ex today, correct? i have no exs. Painfully single. 3. Have you taken someones virginity? I am a virgin so no 4. Is trust a big issue for you? YES 5. Did you hang out with the person you like recently? the last person i talked to was a shop clerk and i havent been outside since 6. What are you excited for? new overwatch event ye bOIIIIIIIIII7. What happened tonight? its 7am for me but last night i did the nexus challenge in hots for officer dva icon and spray 8. Do you think it’s disgusting when girls get really wasted? no bc theyre having fun i do think it disgustiung when people take adventage of wasted girls tho 9. Is confidence cute? YES. YES IT IS. 10. What is the last beverage you had? if we’re going by the words literal meaning last hot drink i had was a latte with a shot of espresso and shot of vanilla syrup 11. How many people of the opposite sex do you fully trust? NONE. my gay ass avoids the men. 12. Do you own a pair of skinny jeans? no. trousers = satan13. What are you gonna do Saturday night? study for my war, intel and strategy exam 14. What are you going to spend money on next? lootboxes or food 15. Are you going out with the last person you kissed? cannot remember last person who kissed me (its been a longtime) plus ive never had a gf sooooooooo16. Do you think you’ll change in the next 3 months? yes17. Who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything? amy probs 18. The last time you felt broken? everyday of my god damn life 19. Have you had sex today? im a single virgin 20. Are you starting to realize anything? yes that im fucking gAY AF AND LONLEY 21. Are you in a good mood? im not in a bad mood 22. Would you ever want to swim with sharks? no23. Are your eyes the same color as your dad’s? never knew my dad24. What do you want right this second? a gf25. What would you say if the person you love/like kissed another girl/boy? i’d be fine with it bc as long as their happy i am happy 26. Is your current hair color your natural hair color? nah27. Would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh? whose partner doesnt make them laugh wtf28. What was the last thing that made you laugh? latest unhhh episode when trixie “snake charms” katya and the producers edited in alaska 29. Do you really, truly miss someone right now? no30. Does everyone deserve a second chance? depends (difference between accidently fucking up and murdering someone) 31. Honestly, do you hate the last boy you were talking to? i hate all boys so yes32. Does the person you have feelings for right now, know you do? the only feeling people have about me is disgust 33. Are you one of those people who never drinks soda? nah fam my blood is 99% mountain dew34. Listening to? nothing but usually u’s 35. Do you ever write in pencil anymore? yeah 36. Do you know where the last person you kissed is? cant remember last person whop kissed me 37. Do you believe in love at first sight? more like LUST at first sight ammirite fella s38. Who did you last call? cannot remember last phone call imade 39. Who was the last person you danced with? no one 40. Why did you kiss the last person you kissed? cant remember last kiss i had41. When was the last time you ate a cupcake? cant remember 42. Did you hug/kiss one of your parents today? im at college in rural wales and shes in lancashire so no 43. Ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush? i dont have to have a crush to embarrass myselrf 44. Do you tan in the nude? i dont tan. I BURN. 45. If you could, would you take back your last kiss? cant remember last person i kissed46. Did you talk to someone until you fell asleep last night? nope47. Who was the last person to call you? marketing call probably48. Do you sing in the shower? in dorms so no 49. Do you dance in the car? dont drive 50. Ever used a bow and arrow? yeah51. Last time you got a portrait taken by a photographer? never52. Do you think musicals are cheesy? fuck no53. Is Christmas stressful? nah most my family is either dead or divorced so christmas is chill 54. Ever eat a pierogi? wtf that55. Favorite type of fruit pie? rubarb pie 56. Occupations you wanted to be when you were a kid? trophy wife 57. Do you believe in ghosts? yes 58. Ever have a Deja-vu feeling? i read this in tracers voice but sometimes 59. Take a vitamin daily? no60. Wear slippers? yes61. Wear a bath robe? no 62. What do you wear to bed? shirt and pants 63. First concert? no 64. Wal-Mart, Target or Kmart? im in the uk so no 65. Nike or Adidas? no - not all sterotypes you read about lesbains are real 66. Cheetos Or Fritos? none 67. Peanuts or Sunflower seeds? none 68. Favorite Taylor Swift song? none 69. Ever take dance lessons? probably 70. Is there a profession you picture your future spouse doing? idc as long as shes rich and i get to be a trophy wife i dont give a shit 71. Can you curl your tongue? yes72. Ever won a spelling bee? not a thing here 73. Have you ever cried because you were so happy? probably74. What is your favorite book? the 7 habits of highly productive elves 75. Do you study better with or without music? listen buddy i dont study 76. Regularly burn incense? im in dorms 77. Ever been in love? nope!78. Who would you like to see in concert? aqours probably 79. What was the last concert you saw? cant remember 80. Hot tea or cold tea? both 81. Tea or coffee? both 82. Favorite type of cookie? all cookies 83. Can you swim well? im okay84. Can you hold your breath without holding your nose? no 85. Are you patient? FUCK NO86. DJ or band, at a wedding? dont care 87. Ever won a contest? probably not 88. Ever have plastic surgery? im a broke college kid 89. Which are better black or green olives? olives are spawn of satan90. Opinions on sex before marriage? fine with it 91. Best room for a fireplace? living room fite me 92. Do you want to get married?i havent met anyone yet so idk
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