#every time I think someone's going to tell me that sid would never top

[sevenfists]

Also large and strong boyfriend who also loves to bottom and get cuddled and pampered is just such a wonderous juxtaposition.

IT’S TRUE mostly I just want them both to be allowed to be complex and nuanced people with interesting inner lives who have a variety of types of sex and are both vulnerable and take care of each other, you know? Let’s have Sid rawing Geno in the hot tub and then Geno bends him over the side and rims him until Sid cries.

#Anonymous #replies #eternally on this bullshit #love sid happily taking a big dick #and also geno happily taking a big dick #watch me go on High Alert #every time I think someone's going to tell me that sid would never top #😂

[nolpat0]

something like this | s. crosby

summary: sidney has always wanted someone like her and confess as much to her

wc: 1,573

warnings: mentions of hospital/injury, one sexual innuendo

The low, metronomic beeping of the monitor keeps a steady, consistent beat to the familiar, dulcet hum of a female voice. In his drugged, cloud nine-like haze, Sidney does his best imitation of a grin, the gloriously soothing tone of her words easing him out of his concern.

"Sid?" her whisper is followed by the warm press of her fingers against the skin of his upper arm, a sweet reminder of her unwavering support. "Are you awake?"

He is; but the boy fights the grin that is sure to give him away in order to keep the easy flow of her rambles going, enjoying her vivid stories and the giggle at the end of her words as she confesses the minuscule details of her day to him. She believes him to be fast asleep, for her words to be nothing but a useless hum, and he enjoys the unexpected imtimacy of the affectionate gesture.

"I see what you're doing," she speaks again, the edge of her words exploding into the melodic tumble of her soft laughter. However, she doesn't cease her talking. "I'll just keep talking and making a fool out of myself so you can pretend you're asleep."

Sidney can't help the glimmer of love that warms his hospital blanket-clad body, a small, tender smile tugging at the edges of his full lips, revealing himself. Her fingertips trail over the carved outline of his cheekbones and brush against his hair as he finally opens his coffee-colored eyes. He gives her a earnest smile, the edges of his eyes crinkling as his dark eyes travel over her face, his full, pink lips splitting open into a wide grin to reveal shining teeth. She mumbles a soft, calming greeting and caressed his cheek a second time with the tips of her fingertips.

“So you gonna fall asleep again so I can tell you what Mat did next?” She asks, the edges of her lips curled into a playful smirk as she teases him, fingers still running agaisnt the midnight strands of his short hair in a loving manner.

Sidney can’t help the gentle, genuine laugh that rumbles from his chest, his grip on the pale blue hospital blanket loosening as he lets his palm fall flat on the curve of her knee. He nods quickly, eager to keep hearing her soft speech and tease her back, “Yes of course. My bad.”

He doesn’t catch the small smile that lights up her face because his dark lashes are already falling flat agaisnt his faintly flushed cheeks. She doesn’t waste another second launching into a detailed discription of her colleague, Mat’s experience with a particularly awkward run in with their boss. As she gently lulled him farther into the comforting clutches of sleep, Sidney tried his very best to keep his facial expressions netural but failed quite badly, which propelled her further into making him laugh. As the tall hockey player felt sleep finally take him, he felt overwhelmed with the buzzing, delicious feeling of love. He was consumed by the complete love he held in his heart for the girl still talking and running her fingers through his hair. He was too deeply in love to even think properly. And Sidney loved every minute of it.

———

Sidney couldn’t feel the light press of her palm agaisnt his as the white lab coat clad doctor filled the couple in on his prognosis and what the steps leading them forward would look like, a detailed, and frankly terrifying process that would have Sidney recovering and ready to return on the ice in a month or so. His breath was strained through his lungs, his jaw dancing with a clenched muscle as he tried to reign in his fears and desire to lace up his skates without a practical thought about the nasty consequences. Sidney just wanted to return to the locker room and resume being captain, and knew the only way to that was through the plan the doctor was currently laying out. Which scared Sidney to his bones if he was allowed to be completely honest.

“Sid,” she called, eyes watching her boyfriend closely as the hospital room door clicked closed in the wake of the doctors exit. Nerves clung to her limbs but she shook them off in order to ease Sid and his tense posture. She tried again, more forcefully. “Sidney.”

His chin dips and he finally slides his cinnamon coloured eyes to lock onto hers, trying to mask his evident fears. But she knows him far too well to skip the flicker of fear shining in his irises or the slight quiver of nerves that shook his large hands. Instinctively, her palms slide over his, fingers knitting tightly with his in a subconscious attempt to ease his shaking.

“It’s gonna be okay,” she nods, refusing to break eye contact in order to get her confidence across. She could tell he was scared, as was she, but she understood that in the end, all would work out. And they would be ok.

“I know.” Sidney tries again, blatantly deflecting.

Her lips quirk into a soft, knowing smile, her eyes flickering up distractedly as she brushes his hair back from his forehead. She smiles deeper absentmindedly, a smile that Sidney adores with all his heart. He felt a tiny fraction of his terror fading away like ice thawing in his veins.

“You don’t have to act like you’re not worried, Sid.” her eyes dropped to hold his loving gaze, her lips set in a firm line. “You don’t have to always be the strong one. That’s what I’m here for.”

A tight breath eases from his lips as his eyes close lightly, his heart settling back into its former steady pace of calm at her carefully chosen words. He was grateful, for her presence and the pressure of her fingers in his and the weight of her words. He’d never experienced a love like hers, where she loved him wholly and unconditionally, allowing him to remove all his amored layers and bravado. He revealed his true self to her and she had only kissed him passionately and grinned like he’d given her the best gift she could receive, repeating her daily mantra of how much she loved him. Sidney had never felt more loved than he did at that moment. His heart swelled fondly at the memory, the edges of his lips turning up in a doting smile.

“Thank you,” he breathed, a little unsure of what exactly he was thanking her for, but the statement was truthful.

She responded with a light, fleeting kiss pressed to his temple, her palms reaching up to softly cup the sharp curve of his jaw. He waits with baited breath, but soon relaxes fully under her loving gaze content with just staring at her.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, the syllables falling softly from his chapped lips in a unintentional audible confession.

She blinks at the unguarded, genuine compliment she knows he must mean, when she’s been curled up in the uncomfortable hospital chair beside his bed for the past two days, sleepless nights smudged under her eyes and dressed in his old clothes. She feels the burn of her cheeks under his gaze and the compliment. Sidney catches the slight embarrassment and reaches out to brush his thumbs under her eyes. “You’re cute when you get flustered.”

She rolls her eyes in response, mouth curving into a mirthful grin.

“Yeah, yeah, why don’t you fall back asleep?”

Sidney reaches out and hooks his fingers the the belt loops of her jeans, pulling her closer and onto the narrow mattress, shifting his own body to accommodate hers. “Only if you sleep with me.” he replied, coffee coloured eyes gleaming with flirtatious mischief. His fingers don’t loosen their hold, instead going to grip her hips and pull her flush to his side, savouring the warmth radiating from her smaller figure now dwarfed by his size. She curls tightly to his side, fingers digging into the material of his shirt and leg falling over his as his palm cups the underside of her thigh before it gave away to her knee. She hums with a soft laughter, commenting that she’ll think about his desirous proposal, ignoring the fact they both knew she’d already complied. Sidney settled in with a long, adoration filled kiss to her hair that didn’t hold a drop of lust. He grins at the tired lilt to her voice as she mumbles softly into his thin shirt, the reverberations flowing through his chest. His fingertips smoothed over her hair as he breathed deeply, catching her familiar scent. “I love you so much.” Sidney whispered into the layers of her hair as she promptly fell asleep to the barley audible confession, meaning every syllable with his whole heart.

When her breathing has evened out, a soft almost imperceptible whistle of her breath as she falls into a deep, dream-less sleep upon his chest, fingers tightly curled in the material of his thin shirt, as if she can’t fathom letting him go, even in sleep, Sidney reveals his truest confession.

“I’ve always wanted to be loved by someone like you.” his words are hot and hit the top of her forehead before he kisses her skin. Sidney is quick to brush a stray eyelash from her cheek. “And now I have you. And I’m not letting you go.”

#hockey fanfiction #hockey boys #hockey writing #ice hockey #hockey #nhl hockey #nhl blurb #nhl writing #nhl fic #nhl players #nhl #nhl x reader #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #sidney crosby #sidney crosby x reader #sidney crosby imagine #pittsburg penguins #fluff #nhl fluff #nolpat0writes

[msookyspooky]

Okay so I think I have a good question - Based on your hc, IF you had to choose between Billy and Stu, who do you realistically think you'd be more compatible with romantically?

Lmfao get ready for a rant cause I've thought about this before and every point for why or why not ☠️☠️☠️

Billy. The Rat Faced Mama's Boy. Hands down.

We both are introverted

We both latched onto horror as an escape

We both have very similar traumatic issues with our family I think we would have a common understanding of each other when it came to that. I'm more healed than he is obviously but maybe that would zape him out of being a fucking nutjob if someone would have listened and said "Yeah me too. Sometimes family sucks. It gets better." I know it would have helped me and saved me a lot of wasting my teens being an angsty whiney Lydia Deetz; that's for sure.

Even more context:

I'm obviously creative and I think that would be appreciated by him, especially my horror themed stories. I was actually writing a book of short scary stories like the ones we grew up with to self publish and never got back to it....I could see him chiming in to add this element to a story or if he liked that particular story after reading it when I told him not to. 😑

Im drawn to darker stuff and heavily into occult and spirituality something I think would interest him as well and draw him in because I'm 'different' than most of the girls in Woodsboro.

Put it this way; I'm a Sag Sun, Aquarius Moon, Capricorn Mercury. So if you know astrology then nuff said you can see my personality. The closest person to my chart is Billie Ellish but I'm even more intense in relationships because she has a Sagittarius venus while mines a fucking Scorpio venus. I am a ride or die when I fall in love and I fucking hate it. I just know we would both be the same level of intense but also understanding in a dynamic together.

I don't dress nearly as alt as I'd like to irl; none of you would recognize me. I'm a plain jane that puts comfort over looks and I think he would be fine with that.

To top it all off he doesn't seem like the type to rush relationships and I'm as demiromantic as it gets. It feels like if he was genuinely interested in me; he would wait. We'd have an angst filled slow burn lmfao ☠️

Now, I'm not saying we wouldn't be toxic for each other!!

because he would definitely try to control me and I would fight him tooth and nail. We both would piss each other off because I'm not an argumentative person but I'm head strong. You tell me not to do something? Okay...Okay, that's fine. *Closes the door and squeals tires up the road going to do the very thing you told me not to* Like our relationship would be fucked up at times WITHOUT the murder... And Billy is a dramatic bitch. Like, I would definitely roll my eyes at him being dramatic about something microscopic and an argument from Hell would ensue.

But once we reach an understanding that he is not controlling me and I have to learn to let him be a bitch about stuff...I actually think we'd be cool with each other. Just minus the murder.

But Stu? No...Not alone.

Stu is definitely a shallow jackass and I sadly feel like me being overweight and not in a plus sized model way (I gain hardly no boobs or hips when I gain weight and he definitely likes those), a plain jane and not in the in crowd would bother him or even if he himself was cool with it he'd mock me in front of his friend group just to save face something I can't see Billy doing because he doesn't care as much as Stu does about appearances or what others think.

He feels unfaithful I'm just gonna say it...I know Billy did it with Christy while with Sid but I think if he genuinely loved someone he would be as loyal as they come but Stu? That man will always have his eyes wandering, I'm sorry.

He's way too immature for me no matter how charming he is. I would feel like I'm baby sitting him and the conversations would be superficial. We'd be better as friends.

He rushes things and hyperfixates and as a demiromantic there ain't no way. His lovebombing would have me fucking hiding from him.

I HATE being touched if I'm not in the right head space. He would have to let me come to him something I know he wouldn't do.

I don't engage in PDA. He would get his feelings hurt if he tried kissing my neck while I was talking to someone and I shoved him away.

He's insensitive and I would be offended by him ALL the time. Yeah Billy faked the boyfriend thing with Sid but he showed he can be a good boyfriend and probably was before Maureen/Roman happened. If I was upset; Billy would be the most understanding even if he's not affectionate about it while Stu would want a quick fix with a hug and if that didn't work he'd make it worse with an insensitive remark.

He is loud attention seeking manwhore and I just can't see myself being drawn to him

Stu is hot and has his own charm about him that Billy lacks. Billy is boring af but Stu is annoying af. Billy is hot and we match vibes but maybe too well to the point we would go nowhere in a relationship.

Honestly? They work best together. In a relationship they are both such opposites that you get the best of both worlds and they bring both the worst and the best out in each other.

So to answer your question; Billy. But I really can't see myself with him long term either but both of them I could? So the true answer is both or notjing if we're being honest! They just compliment each other and Stu would be go from annoying to endearing with Billy as a reserved emotionally constipated buffer and Billy would be tranquil and understanding compared to Stu being Stu when you need to just chill. They both would keep each other in line...But they'd also tagteam to annoy me and idk how to feel about that other than one of you can take them off my hands for awhile ✋️

And honestly I think I would have them at a lose at times because I wouldn't engage in their dumbass angst bullshit. I'm very chill to the point I could see them trying to make me jealous and I'd just tell them to go fuck each other and leave me alone. And I'm from the country and I love the outdoors and they feel like two rich uppity Cali boys that would be fine with blood but god forbid they get mud on them 🙃

#on god Severen from Near Dark is the only f/o I could see loving irl. He's like if Billy and Stu morphed together as a cowboy vampire #but billy is a close second even if he's boring

[dropsofletters]

though you weren’t mine [kmg]

—summary: new in town, with judgement following after every step she takes in life, the least she expects is to find a box filled with cd’s that reads ‘throw away’ written in messy handwriting on its cardboard surface. when looking at the videos, she realizes there is a highlight to her day—as if he was part of a sitcom, and his name is kim mingyu.

the downside? she doesn’t know where to find him. once existing in the same house as hers, no one knows where he went, but his smile remains petrified inside her head.

—title: though you weren’t mine —pairing: kim mingyu x reader —genre: photographer!au ; musical actress!au ; strangers to friends to lovers!au ; videocamera!au —type: fluff ; angst ; suggestive ; romance ; drama ; humor ; slowburn —word count: 25,891 —warnings: mentions of alcohol, death (though briefly), and past relationships. 

Three onions. One head of garlic. Lettuce, clinging to the space in between his teeth and still, her seat companion in the train doesn’t close his mouth for the slightest bit.

As far as she knows—and it has been two hours of conversing with this man, so she’s knowledgeable enough to speak—, he worked in refineries. A little bit over seventy, with a white chemise cladding his body, tucked inside a pair of beige pants. The rounded glasses on the bridge of his nose keep falling, but he keeps playing with them as he speaks about the most miniscule of matters. For one, in 1997, his wife left him for his best friend, and secondly, his youngest is starting to look more like his (please, say ex) best friend with the passage of time.

Now, she is not a DNA expert, neither is she a fortune teller to be able to foresee the future when she got in this train, against her will, only to fulfill her biggest dream.

The city awaits her entrance, and when she gets there, she hopes to take a big bite of the world, mix dance and singing, along with acting, in order to further emphasize her spot in the industry. Break the malicious curse that follows everyone in her blood, only destroying their careers under the weight of their actions.

“And, you know what she did?” Licking the mayonnaise off his thumb after taking a big bite of his sandwich, the older male continues with his story as she lulls her head against the window. For one second, her eyes divert towards the pink clouds accompanied by lilac skies. Trees swing with the harsh wind, three days-worth of spending her time with Jinho over here sounding like the worst of experiences. “My daughter told me she doesn’t want to college after all. Can you imagine that? I paid for her education in four different majors, and she dropped out of all of them…because she wants to be, and hear me out,” As if she hasn’t been doing that for the entirety of the train ride. “A YouTuber.”

“Oh no.” Acting is her forte. Fake crying without a single droplet of water thrown at her face. Elongating words. Dramatics. All of the like—it’s what theater means, but at this point, her tiredness trails after her sentence. “Yeah, all that money…gone to waste…sir, that’s terrible.”

Just as terrible as the way he is eating this sandwich.

Smacking his lips once again, the man shakes his head. “What was your name again?” He asks, for the umpteenth time, and she lets her lips wrap around her name. She may change at this point, something easier, just so this man stops talking about himself and starts to be a proper companion instead. “Yeah, always be sure of what you’re going to do. There are millions of people you can disappoint, and they will tell you they will support you through everything and anything, but it’s a lie.”

“Ah-ha.” She drags, trying her hardest not to scrunch up her face. Instead, she rummages through the pocket of her black coat, looking for the perfect distraction that is her phone. “I think someone is calling me, Mr. Jinho, if you’ll excuse me.”

“Yes, yes!” The old man speaks quickly, taking the last bite of his sandwich only to speak with his mouth full after. “I hope it’s good news!”

After moving his legs from the side, she makes a bee-line towards the bathroom. Brown leather seats on each side of her, with people talking normally, softly, and yet, seemingly happier than her with her train ride. Her friends insisted on this—something of the like of ‘humbleness’ in their whole speech when giving her the train tickets that would take her to her newest pursue in life. Away from her well-known family, and the judgement that weights her down even when she opens the door to the bathroom and closes it behind her.

An unpleasant whiff of air has her sighing deeply. Great. The white tiled walls and sunflowers decorations do nothing to make her feel less like an outcast in this train. Though, she needs to sit down and look through her phone for a while, perhaps pee before getting out of there, and hoping that Jinho’s sandwich did its job in getting him to sleep. Her feet steps forward, putting down the toilet seat in hopes of not even seeing anything inside to compare to the smell in here, before taking a seat on top of the toilet.

Fuck my life, she thinks.

One day you’re at the top of the world, the next, you’re seated on top of a toilet with suspicious contents. Life, some call it.

As if the afternoon couldn’t get any worse, she unlocks her phone, a series of messages from her best friend appearing on the screen. God, she misses her. Leaving her best friend behind while having a medical emergency is one of the choices, she thinks she will never forgive herself for making. What kind of friend does that? She has no idea. Yet, Miyoung practically shouted at her to go follow that dream. The musical’s rehearsals started this month, and she couldn’t miss the opportunity of finally reaching proper stardom. Not word from mouth, but with actions instead.

Earlier, she had asked:

To: Miyoung.

How’s your foot doing?

Though, probably napping, it took Miyoung four hours to answer.

From: Miyoung.

Still connected to my leg, so far, so good.

But…haven’t you seen the news?

News? No. Well, if she’s not counting Jinho’s romantic history—and family timeline, at that—since 1991.

If the child isn’t really his…why would he be telling some stranger in the train?

To: Miyoung.

I was supposed to know any news?

From: Miyoung.

OMG.

Enter my account. Check your ex’s Instagram.

And tell me where we’re hiding the body.

Miyoung, God bless her, is the purest figure skater she knows. The woman follows everyone in social media without caring if they stepped on her heart with all her might, or did something to her friends. Her ex-boyfriend, a very famous comedian, is not the exception. While she had hit headlines for unfollowing him on social media—and vice-versa—, Miyoung does wonders on keeping her updated. Two weeks it has been since their break up, and she has never been readier to move on.

Though, upon opening his social media, she’s welcomed by the usual—parted black hair, curved eyebrows, downturned and bored eyes, with slim lips and a tall frame that bends against its will forward, his stance normally accompanied by baggy, stylish clothes that more often than not rake the smell of alcohol and weed. On this occasion, however, someone else clings by his side and the man does not have the utmost decency to make the picture a little bit less like it belongs to some raunchy college student’s Instagram profile.

His big hand, that linked with hers, and touched her skin in promises of forever, splays on top of the woman’s butt. Gorgeous in more ways than one, with long curled hair and a smile on her lips as he kisses her cheek. The worst part? That she dated someone who captioned this picture, with God-knows-what-kind-of-model, in the worst of ways.

Her stomach churns when she reads: “Here with the main bitch.”

Ugh. Delete all the kisses. Erase all the memories of ever sleeping with him. Create a time-machine so she can slap herself across the face and tell herself ‘he’s not even that funny, wake the hell up’.

To: Miyoung.

Ew.

From: Miyoung.

You don’t care?

To: Miyoung.

Of course, I care.

I kissed that.

I made out with that.

I let that fuck me.

From: Miyoung.

Sid-looking ass.

Fuck him.

All those times Miyoung told her not to date him, and there she was, making a fool of herself.

To: Miyoung.

We don’t judge people by their appearance here.

But he’s trash.

From: Miyoung.

Two weeks, girl.

It took him two effing weeks to get over you.

It shouldn’t hurt, right? Though, her heart contracts a little at the touch of disappointment. Never had she trusted someone as much as she did with her ex, and there she is. Forgotten. Mocked. Poked fun at.

The second bitch.

The ‘no-one-cares’ bitch.

Fuck.

To: Miyoung.

I’ll get over him too, just watch.

From: Miyoung.

Oh, babe, I know.

And you’re on your way to it.

With certainty, even in this goddamned train, with a smelly bathroom and a talkative seat companion, she can do it. Reach her dream. Get a name. Never need a man ever again.

Everything is going to be fine. It always is for her, and this won’t be the exception.

###

Everything is not fine.

Brick walls clad the building in front of her. Tall enough for it to even be considered a skyscraper, creating shadows across her body. The world is much bigger than hers, and yet, sometimes she thinks she is the center of it all. A white screen with black lines showcases the name of one of the newest musicals to be performed tonight at nine, but she can only imagine how her debut in the musical world will look like on her first night. Twinkling lights from the night falling in love with the title of her play—When The Kids Fall Asleep.

When she read the script, she was actually aiming to find some small spot in a TV series, waving in the back or saying three lines. Instead, she came across this piece of magic because of her manager, whom was once her mother’s manager. The story read almost like a book, the demos filling her ears when she asked for a demonstration for her audition, the story of four families that conjoined when trying to reach their dreams without telling the children about the hardships of the real world. For them, everything must be perfect.

Her character, she had fallen in love with. Poor yet leader-like through everything, trying to raise a three-year-old without making her miss a single meal. When she falls asleep, she has to live off earning money by selling meals and, continuously, finding it harder to feed her little family and working as a stripper.

Doing justice to such a role may erase the mistakes lingering in her past.

With a push of the door, the cold metal handle meeting her fingertips, a new world is introduced to her. Rows and rows of burgundy seats, all staring towards the not-so-empty stage. People scatter around, some extending their limbs, others taking sips of water, but the swish of the door closing behind her catches some people’s attention.

The director is someone she knows. The strands of her bleached blonde hair are pushed behind her ears, tightened by a hair-tie to keep it in place. A tall nose, plush lips, and a set of thick glasses meet her enigmatic, yet serious face. A black turtleneck covers most of her body, long limbs and stylized slender body making her look more like a model than a director. Practically glued to her chest is the printed version of the script, and the closer she gets, the more the golden lights scatter across Kaleigh’s body.

“Look at that, if that isn’t our fashionably late rock-star.” The chuckle that rips through Kaleigh’s lips fakes every single emotion that could be mustered in this situation. A sharp breath in makes her curse herself internally. Well, she’s definitely not used to having to take the subway…and definitely not use to people not waking her up. Her manager is there for that, but now he’s too far away from her to actually work as a babysitter, as well.

“Sorry,” She breathes out, hands threading with the straps of her hoodie before smiling softly. “I…I didn’t know how to catch the subway.”

“Are you kidding me?” Kaleigh asks, mocking tone in her voice ever-present, clapping her hands together as if watching the most ridiculous of comedies. “Your family isn’t famous enough for you to act as if you’re out and about in limousines.”

Truthfully, yes. A family of rock-stars, like her mother, that happened to leave the band in search of a better chance, only for her first solo album to fail in the charts. Of models that never went past the runways. Of singers that remained as one-hit-wonders and producers that never got to have names remembered in the world of music. It’s always a peak and then a downfall for her family’s curse.

…But, she does have enough money not to worry for the rest of her life, so there is something good about being criticized throughout her entire life for the family she grew up in. “Well…no, but I’m used to people driving me around. It won’t happen again, I promise.”

Upon sparing one glance towards the stage, Kaleigh must understand that she wants this conversation to be over. “Whatever,” She instructs, deep voice lingering with tiredness. “This is your team. You can get to know them as you practice. This is the first time the entire cast is together.”

Her eyes scan towards the groups of people, all of which she had studied from the printed version of the script she read when Jinho had finally fallen asleep on the train. Thank God, she almost thought that man was going to get off the train with her and follow her around. One of the male leads, she recognizes as Jaehyo, tall and over his thirties, short brown hair accompanying widened eyes, almost deep-looking. A vibrato to die for, as she saw per his audition.

“You’re Jaehyo, right?”

The man looks up from his script, a crooked smile appearing on his features that perhaps, gives him the attractiveness of that one friend’s young dad that she would look at when she was a child, unaware of why her cheeks would heat up at the mere sight of him. “You know me?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Going up the set of stairs, she looks around the room once again. Small woman, black short hair, a rounded face with speckles of brown across her cheeks, matching her orange blush. The best dancer of the team, definitely. “And that’s Sue. She plays Joah’s character.” Of course, how could she not? Joah is one of the background characters, but thrilling in its own way. The owner of the strip-club, and the one that takes care of the children in the house of the four families, trying to paint a perfect picture of broken shreds. “And you are—”

Upon pointing at the woman seated by the edge of stage, the light wood carving against her uncovered, toned thighs, she hears Hyun’s sharp tone. The main star, the oldest child—twenty-one, that figures out that her mother is a stripper and goes on a rampant of wanting to take over the same steps. She’s a triple threat, that’s for sure—singing like a goddess, dancing like she belongs to the stage, and acting like she lived through the same experience.

“Are you over with your little Wikipedia search revising speech?” Hyun says, moving her long brown hair away from her shoulders to look at her with sharp almond eyes, her plush lips pursed, though still beautiful with the blaring anger inside her casting over her features. “You’re late. We don’t have time for you to play the fangirl character.”

Hyun stands up at the same moment that she shares her anger with everyone else in the stage. Jaehyo, on one hand, is the one to speak up first. “Hey, we weren’t even waiting for that long—”

“So, just because she has money, we have to excuse her diva behavior?” Running her hands over her gray shorts, Hyun gets in position, staring at Kaleigh.

“Look who’s talking.” She spits out, looking up and down at the woman that she had once thought was the best addition to the team, now seems to be up and against her, ready to blare Achilles’ cholera all the way towards her. “The only one making a fuss over me being twenty minutes late here is you—”

“Because my time is valuable, unlike what you think.” Hyun responds just as she gets close, sparing one glance towards Kaleigh. “Right? I’m the main lead. If I can get here early, so can you.”

“Shit, sorry.” She whispers, a frown appearing on her features. “I’ll make sure to get here two hours earlier because your character is so much more important than mine.”

“Well,” Kaleigh interrupts at that moment, hooking her fingers around one of her dangling diamond earrings. “It’s not wrong. Hyun is our star. If she gets here on time, so can you.”

Lowering her head just at the same time that a smile appears on Hyun’s face, she sighs. “It won’t happen again, I promise. I’m sorry.”

Her dream scatters right in front of her, both from her wrongdoings and for the way that Kaleigh looks at her up and down, before nodding. “Doesn’t matter. We can work on various things as you’re here. You have a lot to improve.” Kaleigh answers, a smile reaching her cheekbones. “For now, just stand in the back and watch the professionals do so.” Her hand extends towards Hyun, exclaiming her utmost ambition and hope for her presence in this play.

“For every scene?”

“Yes. You can dance in the back.” Kaleigh finalizes with a tilt of her head. “Ah…does that bother you?”

“Well, if I’m in the back for every scene, I won’t be able to deliver my lines properly—”

“Honey, here’s how this works—” Kaleigh starts, extending one leg in front of her before playing with the edge of her script. Never does she break eye-contact, even when she is stepping on her heart. “You are new, but you aren’t new to the public. You’ve dated a few good names, appeared on magazines since you were a child…and you’re kind of good, but we’re aiming for publicity here. If you’re here with us, we make this play more profitable and, hence, we can continue displaying it for however long they let us. And, with the passage of time, you can step forward and be looked at more…but you’re not as good as the rest, as easy as that.”

Then, why did she get accepted? Once again, the light of her family’s curse casts down on her, creates shadows on the kind of person she can be. Just when her lips are about to part, trying to shelter her pride with the utmost knowledge of how this industry works, Kaleigh claps her hands together.

“In your spots. First scene. The kids are waiting behind the stage, I need you to deliver those lines as if you’re in the verge of hunger. And you better be, we’ll be here the entire day.”

It’s not like how she imagined it to be. So far in the stage that she can’t even see the seats, the light casting down on Hyun even when she is not in the scene. Her voice dulls, every line coming out of her lips with less enthusiasm as the practice passes by. Just a publicity stunt, that’s why she was accepted. Tears weld up in her vision, and they are not exactly her character’s…but now she is here, and she has to make do with her dream.

###

There’s one point of a person’s lives where they can no longer see their friends as much as they hope to. Life gets busy, some create families, others hunt for their biggest professional goals, and then, she’s left in solitude, carrying the boxes that were left outside of her new house by the moving truck. Spacious, perfect for two to three people, and yet only there for her to live in. Somewhere in a suburbs-like spot, with plenty of families staring at her as a groan leaves her lips upon the lumbar ache on her back. Whatever. If normal people can do it, so can she.

The trees on her front yard move with the wind, same as her hair, trying her best to go up the set of white stairs that lead to her gray doorstep, the ‘welcome’ rug in front making her feel less like this is her home. Her friends and family are not here, and the friends that she has here are too busy with their own lives to help her unpack as much as possible. Along with that, she has to go over her lines and avoid delivery in order to use the kitchen as much as possible.

When she drops the last box on the living room, the gray tiles and the white doors giving an elegant vibe in contrast to the cardboard, her hands rest on her waist. The only thing she has managed to do after getting home from practice three days ago was construct some shelves for her TV, and put a bed in the bedroom to sleep in, but other than that, the house is empty. The couch welcomes her weight when she throws herself over it.

Okay. It could be worse. She has a ceiling over her head.

…And a mattress, a kitchen, a TV and a shelf.

But she has worn the same clothes at home for the past four days.

Lifting the white sweater up to her nose, she sniffles deeply. Clean, apparently, but that’s something she has to deal with as well—laundry as soon as possible, because of her amount of outfit changes during practice. Her eyes close tightly, as if she would be able to ease the headache appearing inside her head in the matter of seconds, but when she opens them again, she’s welcomed by the same white shelf she constructed, and the little wood shelf by its side that came with the house.

Though, it’s more like a cabinet, there’s a door to it, and it’s not locked, swinging back and forth with a squeak. Maybe, she should get rid of that before actually starting. Standing up again, each muscle hurting from endless hours of practicing and now for carrying around seven boxes inside her house, her slippers clank against the flooring until she kneels in front of the cabinet, opening the door and sighing out of glee of not having to hear the movement of the wind against it.

A box is inside, the words ‘throw away’ written in capitals and blue marker ink. Better follow what the owners wanted, it could be some haunted doll that she has to get out before it eats her alive at night. Though, just as she lifts the box in between her hands, ready to throw it away or recycle it, the bottom portion opens, letting a bunch of CD’s fall on her feet.

Ouch, but also, huh?

Is this the old owner’s porn stack?

She should just throw them away, but when her fingers wrap around the CD’s, she reads the titles written in the same blue ink. Anniversary. Date. Bed. New York.

Ooh, bed sounds kinky…

Is it an amateur sex tape?

Better check it before she throws it away and people look through it, right?

Thankfully, numbers are scattered across the CD’s, small enough for her to almost ignore them, but upon grabbing her laptop from the coffee table, she slides the CD in. All in order, she starts with number one.

Maybe, a sex tape would be better…it wouldn’t have captured her heart quite like this.

###

01: NEW YORK.

“Ah, Kim Mingyu, don’t leave me behind like that!”

Groups of people scatter in front of the recorder. Tall buildings, in colors from grays, blacks, whites to browns, read out the typicality of New York, as per the title. Bustling, with barely any space from one person to the other, like lovers marching on their way to success. The person with the camera lets it shake a few times with her steps, the tone sweet and melodious as she calls out the same name again. Kim Mingyu. Kim Mingyu. Babe.

Definitely her boyfriend.

Upon reaching a wide back with a navy-blue thick coat thrown over it, the person with the camera expands her free hand on his back, sharp breaths leaving her lips, trying to regain her composure. She moves over to the side, finally showing the face of the culprit of her distress. A car passes by so fast that it swooshes his hair, the brown strands moving away to showcase his gorgeous golden skin. Not only is that gorgeous about him, but the fold of his romantic eyes, one squinted as he holds a camera up his face, taking a few pictures of the Times Square, accompanied by his defined nostrils, straight nose and dried, thin lips that he licks in the matter of seconds before looking over towards his girlfriend.

God has favorites.

“Log number one of the lives of Mingyu and Yoona. We are out here in New York to celebrate our second anniversary, isn’t that right, Mingyu?” Her voice is dulcet enough to compete against popsicles and candy. Mingyu seems to sense that, a twinkle in his eyes when looking down at the person recording him.

But he’s a camera person, she can tell that much. When he turns towards the camera, he extends his arms as wide as possible. “We’re here to celebrate two years of me standing Yoona and not dying in the process.”

Yoona slaps him in the arm for that comment, laughter ripping from his lips. “No, say why we’re really here.”

Mingyu looks around for a second, grabbing her hand before dragging her along through the busy streets. “I’ve always wanted to come to New York, so I thought that coming with you would be the best way to experience it.”

“And why are we recording us?”

“…Because I plan to audition for Hollywood so we can be like Brad and Angelina.”

“…They divorced, Mingyu.”

“They didn’t.” Mingyu replies, though he is clearly in the wrong. “Why would they—?”

“Because people get divorced, Mingyu.” Yoona reasons, far more knowledgeable than her boyfriend. “But be honest, why are we recording ourselves?”

At last, he looks away, the timer of the video growing smaller and smaller as he stares ahead. Slowly, a smile takes over his features, filling his cheeks when he says: “This is log one of the videos we’re going to show our children once we become a family in the far future.”

“Or not so far.”

Staring into the camera, Mingyu shrugs. “You never know.”

And that’s how it ends. With that precious smile of his giving hope to those who don’t believe in love, for it’s clear that he’s in love with whoever is recording him.

###

02: BED.

The door of what is now her bedroom opens up in the video, the same recorder not knowing how to keep the camera upright as she moves toward the spacious bed. Her knees hit the bed, stealing a huff away from the man thrown on the bed as his hands come forward just as his body does, grabbing the culprit that interrupted his sleep by jumping on him.

“Morning, morning, birthday boy!” His face is much more swollen than in the last video, his dark hair tousled everywhere as his eyes squint, try to look at the camera before closing entirely, throwing himself back in the mattress with a sigh.

“I’ll go back to sleep.”

But, Yoona keeps pushing, resting her weight on top of Mingyu, showcasing the pictures of them splayed on their respective bedside tables, before patting her hand against his cheek. “Wake up, it’s April 6th.”

“I know that day it is…” His voice drags, pressing his cheek to the white, comfortable pillow that seems to include a dampened spot created by him.

“Okay, kids. You may watch this ten years from now or something, let’s hope your dad isn’t as grumpy in the mornings as he is right now.” Yoona instructs, jumping a bit on his abdomen only to watch him not relenting at all. “Your dad was born on April 6th, 1997—” Oh, same year that Jinho was left by his wife. What a coincidence. “Shall we sing happy birthday for him?”

The video ends with a smile appearing on Mingyu’s face the more the song goes on in that lulling voice, reaching upwards to steal a kiss from her only for the camera to cut short.

The guy’s charming, she’ll give him that.

###

07: DRUNK.

Mingyu’s flushed face seems a bit older, his hair pushed away from his face as he rests his forehead against the refrigerator. It’s not the same one in her kitchen right now, but the division is the same, so it’s technically still in this house. Only when Yoona comes close to him, stumbling a bit on her steps, does he look up, waving his hand at the camera, the sleeve of his white and red sweater coming down his hand.

“Min…gyu…” Yoona has trouble forming coherent sentences, though Mingyu’s smile is ever-present. Happiness bleeds through him when being with her. “Mingyu, dance for the camera. Make that money worth, baby.”

The man chuckles, lifting his hands in the air and swinging his hips from side to side comically, earning a few whistles, howls and cheers from some people, perhaps equally as drunken as him, only to end up getting close to the camera and saying, with his handsome features pressed up close to the device:

“I wanna throw up.”

This video definitely has a smile plastering on her face. Funny.

###

10: ANNIVERSARY.

“Kim Mingyu, welcome to our log. We haven’t talked here for a while.”

Mingyu looks away from the scenery outside of the car, perhaps a taxi given by the position, moving the hood of his black sweater away from his head and fixing the sunglasses on his face to rest just at the tip of his nose to look at the camera. “You’re recording again?” Mingyu asks, though he is already waving at the camera and by the lack of response, she must have nodded at him.

“It’s October 13th, that means we have been together for three years.” Yoona starts, just at the same time that Mingyu grabs her hand, brings it up to his lips and presses a petal of a kiss to her knuckles. God, she should really stop watching this if she doesn’t want to feel lonelier. Why does she always pick the bad ones? Yoona has good tastes! “What are your thoughts on love, Mr. Kim?”

Mingyu leans his head back, though he looks at her from the corner of his eyes. “Stop calling me Mr. Kim.”

“Okay, go on Kim Mingyu.”

“It’s alright to just call me Mingyu.”

“I’m the one with the camera, shut it.”

Though, the man in question tries to find the right words, a goofy smile appearing on his features before extending his hands, as if further help himself explain. “Love is comfort? It’s what you expect, really. Ah…everyone thinks, at least once in their lives, that they are going to find someone and then, you just do.”

“Mingyu,” Yoona threatens, somewhat of a hiss to her tone. “What a bad answer.”

“It’s an answer!” He replies, widening his eyes and lifting his tone comically.

“And how did you know it was me?”

Mingyu pauses for a second, his lips joining together to give a tight-lipped smile before shrugging. “I just knew.”

###

13: RING.

“It’s recording.” A joyful voice, though belonging to a man, speaks from behind the camera before Mingyu lowers his weight to stand in front of the camera, taking off his black hoodie to wave.

“Hi,” Mingyu instructs, though the busy exterior must be getting him nervous, looking around before smiling sweetly. For one second, he looks like the modern version of a Prince. “I’m here today to buy Yoona an engagement ring. Seungkwan is recording me…and…yeah, I’ll just show you the process of me finding the perfect ring.”

Though, the man recording is more given to being on camera, turning it around and moving to Mingyu’s side so they are both in camera. His bright red hair and innocent features match his overexcited nature. “Welcome everyone. I’m here because my ring size is the same as Yoona’s. Mingyu and Yoona—”

Mingyu chuckles, hiding his hands behind his back before shaking his head. “This is not a broadcast, dude.”

“What do you know, Mingyu?”

The rest of the video displays memories of Seungkwan speaking into the camera and recording Mingyu as he picks the perfect ring. Rose gold with five diamonds, one that says costs him more than he even has and made him ask for money from all his group of friends.

Love has a meaning then.

###

14: I SAID YES.

This video is much shorter, though she can already recognize Seungkwan’s lively voice as he records the lovely couple. Yoona, with her bangs falling across her forehead, thin lips and big eyes stares up at Mingyu when she hugs him, his knees dusted because of his kneeling position in front of her. The ring dazzles against the light of the salon they all find themselves in—perhaps, some event, with pink balloons and golden decorations.

Mingyu, as happy as ever, wraps his arms around her waist, lowering his lips until they connect with hers. Not missing a bit, a smile appears over his features, as per usual with Yoona, but the woman only displays her ring to the camera.

“It’s finally happening!”

###

31: DELETE.

Yoona spends two good minutes talking about the wedding, the decorations, the elegance of her designer dress that she paid too much for. Definitely not in their ordinary room, the city twinkles darkly on the opened, spacious windows of the hotel they are staying in, the beige desk and the champagne curtains matching. Her hair is shorter, her voice different, fixing her eyelashes and her bangs as much as possible whenever she speaks.

Mingyu lowers his weight beside her, resting his cheek on her shoulder just as she is speaking, but she cuts herself off to look over her shoulder. “Mingyu…” Her voice lowers, taking his face in between her slim hands to look at his features. Ready for bed, he seems to be, dark bags surrounding his eyes and the figure of a shadow around his lips making Yoona shake her head. “You haven’t shaved and the wedding is tomorrow. What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

For someone’s whose language had been lively and lovely throughout the recordings, this surprises her. What happened to Yoona? Mingyu stares up at her, pushing his hair away from his face. “I’ll shave tomorrow,” His smile falls then, frowning up at her. “If I shave now, it’s not going to be perfect tomorrow.”

“You look disgusting with that rat on your face.”

“It isn’t even noticeable, come on.”

“Of course, it is!” Yoona complains, huffing when she leans back on her seat, bringing her knees up her chest as she has a stare-off with Mingyu. Before he could say anything, she interrupts him. “I don’t even know how I’m going to kiss you tomorrow with that thing—”

Mingyu stands up then, pointing at the camera as he snaps, getting away from the main screen. “It’s not like you do anything remotely nice anymore unless you’re recording us.”

Yoona looks over her shoulder, talking to Mingyu. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“The only moment you’re truly happy with me is when you’re talking to these nonexistent children of ours—”

“You said you wanted children, Mingyu.”

“…I do, but it’s—it’s not—to have children, you have to do more than just record the good parts of your relationship to show them just how perfect their parents were.”

Yoona scoffs, rolling her eyes while looking at the camera. “Well, I thought I had a perfect boyfriend, you see, but the more comfortable you get, the stupider you become.”

Mingyu stops on his tracks, moving over to the camera before placing one hand over it. Though, by the ministrations and the movement, Yoona seems to flick it off. “Turn that shit off.” He threatens, voice levelled, only to have her shaking her head. “Yoona, I said to turn that shit off. I’ve recorded every time you wanted, but it’s enough. We already—”

“Did I ask for your opinion, Mingyu?”

“I—”

“I didn’t ask, so keep it to yourself, okay?” The man actually listens, biting down on his bottom lip before rushing his hands through his hair a few times, grasping at his scalp one last time before moving over to the mattress. Yoona checks if he is around one more time before leaning her weight forward, resting her elbow on her desk. “Like I said, my dress is by Belle Epoque—”

Though, she can’t bring herself to watch any more of the last log, meant to be deleted.

###

In the middle of the night, lacking sleep yet raging insomnia like it is her job to blare thoughts inside her head as per musical notes, she figured out something. Nonsense is timeless, and staying in the far back of the stage, along with her companions, only to make Hyun shine the harshest is not what she imagined when moving out here. It’s not what she desired, and it’s not going to happen.

The instrumental of Jaehyo’s first solo runs through the empty stage, three hours earlier than Hyun could ever get to the practice room. The man gives a few steps forward, extending his arms on each side of his body as if to ask for instructions.

When calling her name, he adds: “I don’t know why we’re here.”

Though she pauses the instrumental, there is certainty in her voice, pushing her messy hair back, trying to unglue her eyelids that remain touched to the other because of her lack of sleep. One sip of caffeine should be enough for now. “It’s not fair that we’re getting pushed to the back when we have solos. Hyun shouldn’t be the main dancer of your solo.” She instructs, staring at Jaehyo’s surprised expression. “So, we’re preparing something else to show to Kaleigh.”

Jaehyo chuckles at her words, rubbing his hands against his face. “I don’t think she’s going to accept it.” He tells, letting go of his cheeks to add. “Hyun is, also, too much of a strict main for me to go against her just like that—”

“You’re thirty-five Jaehyo, grow up.” Her words come out harshly, days of standing Hyun’s verbal stabs catching up on her. Take for example Kim Mingyu, the God made Prince in the videos she watched. Gorgeous, elegant, somehow sweet, and yet, following through with a marriage that probably made him unhappy in the long run. She doesn’t have the time to lose the opportunity of shining. “…You’re excellent with choreography, and I can help with some of the vocals—”

“I think she’s right.” Sue says after slipping out from the back of the stage, the red curtains dragging over her body, much more energized than anyone in this room. “Hyun is the most talented of our team, but we are not Hyun and her little group of backup dancers. We are also characters.”

Nodding, she agrees. “Exactly.”

Jaehyo looks back towards Sue, then up again at one of the youngest of the team before rolling his finger in the air. “Okay, start the instrumental again. I think I can make up some new moves.”

Jaehyo’s body moves with precision, professionalism at its finest as he makes every step count into the road of heartbreak that his character finds himself to be in, driven by addiction, stopped by his reality. One arm forward, fingers curling with each word he says, notes hit at the same time that his lines are delivered. The talent in the room palpitates with what Kaleigh can’t see, a trio of people who would love to work with Hyun but end up down-casted by the light of her endless talents.

Hours pass by, and she is reminded why she started liking musicals on the first place. Seated on her grandmother’s lap, on the first row of Broadway musicals, staring at the dancers and the actors, the way a story could come to life with the three best versions of art. A nod of her head, a hum of her voice, a vibrato or two, a falsetto when she’s feeling brave…it all comes together with a version of When The Kids Go To Sleep that the world deserves to see.

Though, the middle of the morning hits with the entrance of another person. The doors open, closing harshly behind the culprit, interrupting the line that she is breathing into the air continued by elongated, quickened steps. When she stares ahead, past the rows of empty seats, she sees Hyun’s small face, her typical sport-like outfit cladding her immaculate body.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing, newbie?” Hyun asks, not even conscious of her steps as she goes up the set of stairs and stands in front of her. The music comes to a halt thanks to Jaehyo, whom rushes down the stage with a jump and pauses the Bluetooth speakers, but she isn’t back down. Not with this bitch.

“Practicing, babe. What do you think I’m doing?”

“Ruining the musical, for example.” Her reply has her balling her fists. Not that she has ever been part of a physical fight—oh, but she has been close, and she thinks that if she can land a fake punch for a scene, a real one shouldn’t be that difficult. “…This part of the stage…” Hyun steps forward, tapping her shoes against the spot she was in, jutting her chest outwards to bring her back. “This is mine, and you have to earn this spot—”

“Stop it with the dramatics, God. We’re not in High School Musical, stop acting like a child.” She groans out, throwing her head back at Hyun’s antics.

“You say that because you’re just used to things going your way. So, the pretty little princess can’t get used to being shadowed for once.”

Sue takes this moment to step forward, placing her hands on both of their chests. “Hey, let’s stop this—”

“Fucking whatever celebrity passes by you didn’t work for you, and that’s your fault. Now, this is my dream, and you don’t get to ruin it because you feel like the attention is not on you for once.” Hyun continues speaking, lifting her voice with each moment that passes. Pushing Sue to the side, she gets closer to her, breaths mingling with the nonsense she is speaking into the air. What does she know about her past what the media says? Judgmental bitch.

“You don’t know me. Stop talking as if you do, bitch.”

“Oh, baby, a bitch?” Hyun asks, placing one hand on top of her chest before chuckling. “Ouch. What level of bitch? The usual, level one bitch or level ten, horny bitch like yourself?”

“Regret that.” She pushes, wrapping her fingers around Hyun’s shirt to bring her closer, only to watch the woman chuckle.

“What? You’re going to kiss me like you do with every little celebrity friend of yours?”

Fire bursts within her vision, not counting her breaths when her free hand comes forward and slaps the woman across from her straight on the cheek. Two steps back make her realize exactly what she did, Hyun’s smile faltering with the gasp that leaves her lips. Her chest heaves up and down, hand tingling and burning under the weight of her ministrations…but fuck, it felt good to shut her up for once.

The media has portrayed every mistake, blown it out of proportion, and made a mess out of her life. She was never judged as a normal person, but as the daughter of celebrities instead. It’s not fair for whatever the media portrayed to continue to follow her even when she’s trying to earn a name for yourself.

Sue exclaims at that moment. “Stop it, you two!” Resting one hand on Hyun’s shoulder, she helps her up only to have Hyun walking forward, ready to retreat the precious gift of pain. “Hey, no! Stop it!” Sue tugs Hyun by her small waist, trying to keep her in place.

“Who’s the bitch now?”

“I’m going to fucking kill you—”

“Stop it!” Jaehyo screams from his spot, coming towards the stage again. For someone who avoids arguments, he seems to be angered. “Let’s just…let’s just wait for Kaleigh to get here, practice, and forget this ever happened, okay? We’re a team, we’re not here to harass each other.”

Though, not a single word comes out of her lips, but a glare from Sue tells her that she needs to speak up. “Okay, I won’t do it again.”

Yet, when she turns around, tears weld up in her vision. A broken dream, her pride shattered, and a past that will follow her whether it is true or not…that’s what her life will always consist of, no matter where she runs up to.

###

First month in the new city, and the only thing that keeps her sane is the box filled with CD’s that she keeps inside her shelf, watching Mingyu’s face and smile whenever she needs to remind herself that there are good people in this world.

Sure, flowers don’t bloom in everyone, and what is shown on the recordings could be a bettered version of Mingyu. She knows what it is like to be portrayed as someone else in front of the cameras, after all. Yet, the rosiness of his tanned cheeks and the smile on his features speaks about something inexplicably thrilling. It makes her care about what happened after. Why would they leave all those CD’s behind, and had their marriage work?

Out of her thirteen neighbors, twelve don’t know a thing about him.

It’s a cycle, with the harsh sun confusing the endless wind falling on her back. One door opens, they welcome her into the neighborhood, ask her how she’s doing and they answer her questions.

Do you know who Kim Mingyu is? Yes, of course, he lived where you live right now.

Do you know what he does? No idea.

Do you know what happened to him, per chance? He left one day without saying a thing.

At this point, she may believe that Kim Mingyu was a ghost, and that was the reason why no one ever saw him leaving, or knew why he left. Confusion takes over her—for once, she doesn’t know why she is looking for the man that has brought her comfort for the past month, because nothing would come out of it. It’s not like she’s a fan of him, and will eventually end up meeting him and say: ‘Hey, watching your videos before your relationship fell apart made me feel better because you have such a welcoming, goofy personality’. Yet, there she is, standing in front of the final house of the block, ringing the doorbell on the pristine white walls.

A cat purrs once the doors open, escaping the confines of the home to twirl around her legs. The old woman in front of her, however, does not seem to mind her pet being so sweet, tugging at the edge of her long flowery dress, hunched over as she barely walks, a gray braid falling on her shoulder. A dulcet face, though much older than ninety, accompanies the lonesome woman who smiles at her presence.

“Oh, you’re the pretty girl that just moved in here, right?”

Well, that’s something new. She hasn’t heard much compliments ever since she got here—burn after hit, hit after burn, all coming from her endless hours of preparing for the first night of her musical, and the ones to come. “Depends on who you ask.” She jokes around, extending her hand to greet the woman in front of her. She outs her name into the comfortable atmosphere around them. “Yes, I’m the new neighbor. Nice to meet you…you have such a pretty home.”

“The smallest of the block, but the sturdiest.” The old woman gets out, able to capture anyone with her words. She leans her weight against the doorframe, a tired sigh leaving her lips. “Hye-Eun, that’s my name…and that’s my cat Rose.”

Kneeling down to scratch Rose right on her neck, she hums. “She’s so pretty.” The orange-furred cat seems to understand her, pressing her cheek against her knee before she looks away from her. “I’m sorry to interrupt, Mrs. Hye-Eun, but I have some questions about the previous owners of my house that no one has been able to answer me—”

“You’re not interrupting a thing. I was just watching TV.” Hye-Eun admits.

“I’m glad.” It’s all she seems to be doing these days, too. Not going out. Definitely not spending her time inspecting the city. Instead, she’s either practicing or tiredly lounging around the house. “…Do you happen to know what happened to Kim Mingyu, the owner of the house?”

Hye-Eun stops for a moment, bringing her hands up her nose to rub at it before smiling. “He was a cute one, wasn’t he?”

Heat takes over her features, for she does not shy away from any man…but the stranger has something in him that puts her heart inside a carrousel and gives it a million twirls. “Indeed.”

“He left the day after his wedding. I’d say…about a year ago.” Hye-Eun, for seemingly being so old, captures the date well. One squint of her eye keeps her going, trying to recall the details. “He didn’t leave with Yoona, though. I remember because he brought me some food before he left. Such a caring boy…”

Her judgement may not be the slightest bit wrong about him. A smile appears on her features when she takes Rose in between her hands, looking at the cat’s face for a second before continuing to rub over her fur. Very calm for a cat, actually. “What was he like?”

“Enchanting, really. He used to greet everyone, play around with the kids when he could…he is a photographer, so he took lots of pictures in our neighborhood.” Mingyu sounds much like the man in the recordings so far. Had Yoona been the only one pretending, or was that just a little fight in their relationship? “A little bit dumb, but the sweetest of men are like that. Though, forgetful, too, he never came around after leaving.”

She doesn’t know him and yet, at times, when she doesn’t see his videos for days, she starts to miss his smile. People around the neighborhood, or the ones that truly intertwined with him, must long for his presence. “Seems like his wife was a lucky one.”

“She was.” Though, Hye-Eun says something else about the woman… “Pretty, but too controlling. Mingyu was just too stupid to notice.”

Those words have the smile on her face faltering. “…Really?”

The relationship that she had judged as normal on the first place, now seems to fall on the weight of Yoona’s wrongdoings. “Yes.” Hye-Eun finalizes, nodding her head before smacking her lips together. “But I know nothing else. Sorry, honey.”

“No worries, Mrs. Hye-Eun.” She finalizes, giving Rose back to her owner before resting her hands inside the pocket of her jeans. A photographer, brand-new feelings blossoming with his marriage, Mingyu sounds like one hell of a picturesque man. “Thank you for your help. I’ll get going now.” With a bow, she turns around, ready to take off to her house, when Hye-Eun speaks from her spot.

“He’s a pretty one, isn’t he?”

She stops on her tracks, looking over her shoulders. “Pardon me?”

Hye-Eun rests a kiss on top of Rose’s old cheeks before she chuckles. “A woman doesn’t go around asking about a man through a neighborhood just because.” Though, she has some reason there, if Mingyu is a married man, why should she care? “…Watch out for that heart, honey.”

“Oh no, Mrs. Hye-Eun, I’m afraid you have misunderstood—”

“I haven’t.” The sweet woman says, a smile appearing on her rounded features. “…Just, be careful, okay? Mingyu is the kind of man anyone easily falls for.”

Crossing her fingers across her heart, she replies: “I promise those are not my intentions, ma’am.”

With a chuckle, Hye-Eun takes a hold of her door, ready to close it when she finalizes this conversation. “It’s not what you intend to do, but what you’re actually doing.” The door closes, and she watches Hye-Eun retreat with her cat.

Why is she looking for Mingyu on the first place? Perhaps, a part of her wants to meet him—see that smile from up close and ask what happened to his relationship.

But that’s not her issue, not her position to be in, and that’s the reality of life.

###

“How many times do I have to tell you not to add new steps to the choreography?”

The baby wipe rubbing against her skin stops her motions along with her hand, looking at Kaleigh’s reflection on the mirror, right next to hers. The white lights cast down on the entirety of the face, one half sporting the bruises and dirt on her character’s face, the other completely void of makeup. Kaleigh, however, looks as put-together as always, moving her glasses, holding her script to her chest and pursing her reddened lips when she raises her eyebrows.

“I thought it’d look better, sorry.” Though, Jaehyo and Sue do it at times as well, choreographies and lines that they have worked on behind Kaleigh. They never get repercussions, aiming to be the very best brand of musical actors, but in her case…it’s always a bad move. With the passage of time, her confidence in her talents has deflated. “It won’t happen again.”

“You say that all the time.” Kaleigh answers, looking down at her script with a sigh before flicking a few pages. “And you, still, can’t go to the front. Hyun has worked on her dancing and her physique more than you have, so…stay back.” Though words hurt her more and more each time, digging against her heart like a sword twisting and twisting, opening the wound with more force than the last time. Yet, she only nods, knowing better than going back home and proving everyone right about the curse that follows her family.

“I will.”

“…I don’t want to tell you this, but another mistake, and I’ll kick you out.” Kaleigh, always strict, finalizes with those words, not knowing how to be softer. Little did she know that she left her figure skater with a broken foot at home, only pushed into the train because everyone insisted on her following her dream. Miyoung is much better now, but she can’t follow after her dream anymore. She keeps going, but at what cost? Showing the people that love her that, for once, she is not just some celebrity’s family member?

More often than not, she wants to package her bags and go back home. Wrap her arms around Miyoung and cry for both of their dreams. Buried deep, aching, bleeding. Instead, she watches Kaleigh retreat towards Hyun, sharing a smile with the woman and words of endless praise that should be for her.

Not to be misunderstood. Hyun is as talented as a person can get, but her outward hate towards her and the rivalry she started out of nowhere affects her. What was once admiration towards Hyun now translates into anger, pulsing envy that has her looking to the side as Hyun downs her fifth energy drink of the night. Her pupils dilate, eyelids blinking rapidly, chest heaving for a second as her fingers twirl one against the other. She stares at herself in the mirror, far away from taking off her makeup, before releasing her lines once again under her breath.

She’ll give Hyun that she’s a hard worker, but more than five energy drinks in just one afternoon practice?

The recital is getting closer, pamphlets thrown around, social media presence starting—and the interviews will inherently come soon. Yet, Hyun seems to be under a lot of pressure, the strain of one of the notes she whispers into the thin air coming from endless hours of rehearsing. Main lead but still very much human.

She shouldn’t give a shit. Hyun can start peeing orange like the color of the energy drinks she is having, and she shouldn’t mind, but what does she do instead when leaning against her seat and looking to Hyun’s lonesome speech?

“I don’t think you should be drinking that many energy drinks.”

Hyun looks different when she looks over to her. Her eyes seem to be unable to close, bottom lip stuck in between her teeth, dragged across the surface before tilting her head to the side. “How about your start minding your own business?”

She shrugs. This is a woman, after all, and they may be miles apart personality-wise, but she can’t bring herself to look at Hyun ruin his own health just to function a few more hours on stage. “Well, it’s minding my business. I don’t want to be the one to take you to the ER when one of your kidneys explodes.”

Hyun scoffs, moving her hair away from her face before looking back at her reflection in the mirror. “I’d rather die than share a car with you.”

Why does she even try with this one? It’s clear that she won’t ever let herself be pampered, even when she worries about her health. “You know what? Invite me when that happens. The happiest day of my life, for sure.” She replies, rubbing on her face harshly, not caring if she takes off the entirety of her makeup before tossing her bag over her shoulder and getting off the chair.

When she gets out of her second home, the city welcomes her. Bustling lights, passing cars, the speech that never stops…and yet, she can’t bring herself to like it. She’s one hair away from losing it all—the opportunity of being in this musical, that is, bringing her character to life, but if she doesn’t lose that…her pride as a person will be stepped on.

God, she really needs to stop caring about the musical for once. Her character is different from who she is, and too much practice is about to make her turn out crazy.

Her phone comes up to her ear as she starts walking to the subway, calling one of her friends that live in the same city as her, hoping for an answer when she says:

“Drinks tonight, babe?”

“For sure!”

###

For once, she feels like herself. Stepping out of a taxi, with the night biting at her naked legs, and fashion cladding most of her body. A tight red skirt rests under her bright pink coat, the low neckline of her white shirt showing a sensual side of her that only the cameras had seen, back when she went out partying in her hometown. Lowering her sunglasses from her head to her eyes, she takes a bite of the pizza in between her fingers when her friend closes the taxi’s door behind them.

“This is the best lounge in the entirety of the city, trust me.” Dasom’s pink hair swishes with the wind in inexplicable ways, but the smile on her mischievous features only highlights when she wraps her arm around hers. Dasom had been having dinner with her just a few minutes ago, over some bottles of beer, when she decided a lounge would be much better for them. Music. Dance. Perhaps some people to talk for the night. “Besides, there’s a lot of high-end people here.”

She met Dasom while in high school, where the woman peaked thanks to a viral video on the internet. To this day, she is remembered for it, but her fame hasn’t gone much further. Education aside, she seems to just enjoy the moment. “Wait, can’t I finish my pizza?”

Taking the slice of pizza from her hands, the cheese and sauce concoction ends up on the sidewalk, thrown there by Dasom. “Stop eating. We’re going to have fun and help you forget about your image for once.”

Upon entering the lounge, clouds of red and blue merge together, music boosting the bass through the walls, people cheering with their glasses up in the sky, bodies clinging to one another in a dance. Somehow, it feels like a party, and Dasom never misses one of those. This night doesn’t seem to be the exception, her heels clicking against the black flooring with white speckles as Dasom moves her through the masses of people.

“You didn’t tell me it was going to be a party.”

“Never trust a Gemini.” Dasom instructs about herself before smiling softly. “We’re going to be fine,” She instructs, wrapping one arm around her shoulder before extending her hands to one of the tables. “My friends are over there. We’re going to grab some drinks. And we’re going to have a good time, isn’t that right?”

“…Well, I guess.” Finally, the hazed nature of her happiness comes through, following after the steps of someone more knowledgeable about nights like this. She needs to let go, feel as though she doesn’t care for one night, and if a few shots and shared laughter aims to do that, so be it.

Motions blur one with the other, alcohol passing by her throat, numbing it with each taste. She winces most of the time, but the smile after the hiss is worth it. Pictures come from the night, though she doesn’t know who she is posing with, loving the pineapple in cocktails and the way her body swings as though the denim never restricted her legs. The night casts its light on her, the starring role of a movie that she doesn’t quite remember—but damn, it’s a good time. For once, she doesn’t have to think.

The bad thing about sudden, palpitating happiness is that it dissipates in the matter of seconds. Shots of alcohol are a distraction, not a source of dopamine.

“Dasom!” She shouts her friend’s name, stomach hunching as she steps away from the groups of people. There are a bunch of people with rosy hair in here, or maybe, she is too drunk to tell who her friend is. Her hands wrap around a handle, apologizing when coming in contact with the steady and strong body of the body guard before stepping on the sidewalk, hurling forward until she empties the contents of her stomach.

Yeah…alcohol is not her thing.

One of her earrings falls down, a wince following the action before she spits on the floor. She doesn’t feel any better, and she imagines she’s going to be here for another second. Her hands rest on her thighs, letting the world see her and the cars passing by on her worst of states. Worst of ideas, it was, but she can’t quite regret it when she’s beyond tipsy.

Someone rests their hand on the sleeve of her coat, pulling it up her shoulder before patting her back. Sobs rip from her mouth, lungs contracting and breaths suffocating with the sickness that revolves her stomach. A soft, yet somewhat confused, voice talks to her, rubbing circles on her back in the process.

“Hey, everything is going to be alright. Just breathe.”

Tears mix with her mascara, touching down to her worn-out lipstick as she breathes out: “I—I can’t…I feel so sick.”

This is a man that is talking to her, she can tell that much, but when he fixes her tangled hair from her earrings and continues to speak words of comfort to her, she can’t figure out anything else. A lisp is there, that’s all she can tell. “Oh no. You’ve drank too much.” Unsure of what to say or do, from her peripheral vision, she can see the man looking around the streets. Brown hair, glasses, and a black cardigan, but she doesn’t remember anything else. “I’m here with you. Calm down.”

Before she could say anything else, her stomach lifts its contents and she brings her weight forward once again.

From the faint distance, she can hear a small ‘ew’ from the man.

“Shit. Are any of your friends here?” With the smallest of nods, the man complies with another question. “W—What’s her name?”

“Kang Dasom.”

“Kang Dasom. Kang Dasom. Okay. Okay, I can do this.” More-so talking to himself, the man retreats from his spot beside her. Gone, like everyone, leaving the drunken, sobbing mess that is herself at this moment, it’s not a surprise that he left her to go find her friend. However, his actions say otherwise. “Hey, guard! Can you go look for Kang Dasom inside? I can’t leave her alone.”

Once again by her side, she wraps her fingers around his taut forearm, lifting her gaze for one second, but unable to make out a figure of his blurred features. “I’m sorry.”

“No, no. Don’t be.” The man in question instructs, slipping his backpack off one shoulder before taking out a bottle of water, flimsily giving it to her. “Take a few sips, please.”

She does as he says, letting the cold liquid go down her abused throat, the man’s warm fingertips rubbing the tears away from her cheeks before she sighs. “…Thank you. I must look so…wacky.”

At the adjective she uses, the stranger chuckles. “It’s a new fashion trend, don’t worry.”

Smiling lazily, she hears the sound of the door opening, her name breathed out by a worried tone. “Oh my God, sweetie! I couldn’t find you anywhere!”

Dasom’s arms wrap around her body, not caring that she is smelly, just vomited, and that she’s head over heels drunk. “It’s okay…” She breathes out, feeling her stomach calm down at the touch of the lulling water, but Dasom pulls away to look at her.

“It’s not okay! God, anything could’ve happened to you…”

The stranger speaks in a low tone, playing with whatever is hanging from his neck. A necklace? A camera? A bag? She can’t tell. “I have to go back to work. Is everything going to be alright?”

Dasom looks at the man for one fraction of a second before humming. “We’ll be fine, thank you.” Though, she doesn’t get enough time to say anything to the stranger with the familiar voice, instead sucking in a breath when Dasom takes her by the waist and drags her towards the edge of the sidewalk, eyes already trained on her phone. “I’m going to call our taxi. We need to take you back home.”

The night wasn’t so bad, at least, for she realized there are still good people in this world.

###

All her life she has lived in the backseat, now she realizes.

Shadows of mistakes, people in other cars able to see her, but with the motion, she never captured a glance of them. People judged her, but they never stopped to see the real image, the driver and where it was taking her, how the road was and how the breeze could change the trees, the weather, and the time when everything happened. It’s not what she signed up for, but it’s the only thing she has known.

She knew the media before she even knew what a friend was. Learned how to look at the camera even before she learned how to speak to someone while staring at them face-to-face. Her name was said by other people, strangers at that, before she even knew how to spell it or write it. It’s not what she desired, but she keeps going. Her hands extend to continue with her dance routine, stepping forward just for one second, knowing that this is the only moment to shine. One of the few moments she is not the little girl everyone expected the worst from.

Look at what you’ve become, she wants to tell herself. You’re halfway through being an artist.

One day until her first performance in front of the crowd, and she’s ready to take it like a champion. Good or bad reviews, whatever happens is the source of her hard work—rather, it’s outcome. Her sneakers dig into the stage. Her stage that she shares with amazing people, and if twenty seconds of singing is all she gets, it’s what she is going to hold onto.

Upon reaching her mark, she feels a log—a leaf in her road to autumn. Her body proceeds to fall upon losing her balance, knees digging into the wood, creating dents in the skin, burning at the touch when her hands expand to stand her weight. Her chin hits the floor, but the masked laughter that comes from the person by her side shows the culprit. Baby blue sneakers, toned legs, and that malice that conceptualizes.

Kaleigh stops the music, fixing her glasses before sighing deeply. “Are you trying to kiss the floor?”

She sits up at that moment, her fingers pointing at Hyun by her side. Supposed to be her companion in this scene and yet, destroying everything that drives her to her dreams. “Ask the one that jutted her leg forward so I could trip.”

“I didn’t do such thing.”

Kaleigh, as always, backs her up. “I didn’t see her putting her leg forward.” Before she could defend herself any further, let the fire of the stress burn through Kaleigh’s serious expression, the woman is already looking behind her, speaking to the dot of a man that she can’t perceive at the last row of the practice place. “Are the pictures coming out fine? I don’t want people to see our cast on the floor.”

The more she proceeds in life, the more she realizes she is the only one that can bring herself up, dust her knees before anyone could even put a finger over her. It’s better this way. The photographer gets away from the shadows, lowering the Canon from his face before nodding slowly. “I’m getting good shots. Thank you for worrying.”

That lisp. If she moved her head any faster, she would have gotten whiplash. Upon watching the man’s face, she feels as though the Earth swallows her whole. Rounded face, toned body, his ears hidden by his beanie, glasses propped on the bridge of his nose, thin lips and that melodious smile. A bit silly at times, but yet, so enchanting on him.

“Ah,” Mingyu gets closer to the stage, standing by the edge before extending his camera towards her. Yes. Her. Why in the hell can’t she move? Men shouldn’t have this kind of effect on her. Anyone, really. “I want you to check your pictures with me, just in case you don’t like…the way you look or something. The expressions! Yes, that’s what I’m trying to say.”

Good, because she almost thought for a moment that he was trying to say: ‘Hey, your pictures are looking ugly. Can you check and tell me if you’re alright with them?’.

Finally, she steps forward, her legs dangling when she rests her bottom on the stage. “Sure.” Mingyu stands by her side, looking at her profile for a second before returning his gaze to his thick Canon camera, flickering through the pictures he had taken. Bright, with good poses, the angles fitting for every subject of his camera. “I like them.”

“This is the one from when you fell,” Mingyu instructs, making a circle around Hyun’s stuck-out leg. “And she did stick her leg out.”

“Well, I’m not crazy.” She says, rolling her eyes in the process before linking her hands over her lap. Mingyu looks at her, and for some reason, she feels like she knows him. After all, she saw a portion of him not a lot of people got to see—more mature, he seems to be, void of a glistening band around his finger. Perhaps, he just doesn’t like rings at all.

Mingyu looks up and down her features, long eyelashes fluttering against the underside of his eyes before smiling briefly. “Not crazy, but very drunk at times.”

Huh?

Drunk?!

“Excuse me?” She asks, because there is no way in hell Mingyu has seen her or gotten to know her, much less be aware of her when drunken—

Mingyu leans his weight against the stage, elbows propped back as he talks to her. “You don’t remember me?”

From the CD’s? Yeah. From a drunk night? Hell no. “…What do you mean?” She won’t quite in fact confess that she does remember him.

Roses grow on his cheeks, shaking his head when looking down at his camera. “Well, we were at the Urban Lounge. I was taking pictures, and just as I was about to head inside once again with my new film, I saw someone throwing up in the sidewalk. Crying, too.” Oh no. Oh please, don’t let this be the truth— “I decided to help you find your friend Kang Dasom, and then, I returned to the party.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh, yes.”

What are the odds that the sweet man that had rubbed her back when vomiting, was also the same man that helped her with her anxiousness each day when getting home from practice? There can’t be that many good people in this world, but Mingyu couldn’t be two of the nice people she had gotten to know in this city.

Or, rather, he was.

“Nothing to be ashamed of. We have all been there.” Mingyu stops for a moment, pressing his lips together, rubbing them, before releasing his words. “Me more than others, but it’s nice to be the one helping for a change.”

More souls like his should exist in this world. “Ugh, I can’t believe you saw me like that.” She groans, lowering her head until her neck hangs it. Mingyu chuckles from his spot, only to build the tension inside of her. The man in the recordings had seen her like a whole mess, and found it funny at that. Wow. “…You know, not a lot of people can say that they have seen me like that.”

“Not a lot of people see someone throw up before they actually know their names, but alas, here we are.”

“What a way to make a lady feel better.”

Mingyu’s smile falters the slightest bit at that, extending his hand before saying. “Hello, I’m Mingyu, but in this occasion, you can call me a dumbass.”

Funny, he is, enough for a smile to rake over her features even when her elbows and knees hurt. She speaks her name out, letting his professional and soft fingers caress against her own in a shake. Long digits, perfect for photo-taking, but horrible to think about when she remembers he is possibly married.

“I was joking. Don’t worry about it.” Instead, she hears her name being called, Kaleigh with her hands on her hips, waiting for her to return to the stage. “…Uh, I kind of have to get back to work.”

Now, she realizes the thing that dangled from the man at the lounge’s neck was his camera, the strip giving him more leverage when he nods at her. “I do, too.”

“Nice to meet you, Mingyu.”

Nice to meet you, again, maybe.

“Likewise.”

Though, she feels someone stare behind her when she turns around and gets back on her spot, she tries not to think much of it. He may be trying to get a good picture of the one figure in the shadows that is her.

###

Fourteen hours for the first performance of When The Kids Go To Sleep.

Fourteen hours and in the solitude of that stage, with only one light on, everyone from the staff gone to their homes, she feels the most like a star. In this stage, right at this moment, it feels like a star will be born.

The lyrics to the final song repeat themselves from her lips. She knows them by heart, the reason as to why she moved here on the first place, and with her hands gathering all the emotions in the air only to press them to her chest, she feels like she is five percent more ready for the night after. Or, actually, tonight—midnight, it is, and she still hasn’t left the practice room.

Everyone is gone, what is the worse that could happen?

Just as she moves to another spot, keeping the tempo and the rhythm of her feet, a thud interrupts her. Loud, clear, as if someone had opened the door and jumped on the floor. She halters her step, watching the locked doors with a frown on her features. If that door wasn’t open, then how had the sound appeared on the first place?

Her vocal cords close, swallowing thickly as she looks around the stage. If this is a robber, she needs to find something to defend herself with. An umbrella rests at the edge of the stairs, the one she had brought with herself on the rainy morning, cladded in Winnie The Pooh logos on a baby blue background. One step down the stairs and she hears it again, that thud, followed by the incomprehensible set of words the robber says.

Fuck. Someone’s here.

Someone is here and she had not even noticed.

Precision in her walk, she goes over to the hallway to the left of the entrance door, where the noises get louder as she gets closer to the storage rooms and bathrooms. One step forward, followed by her next leg, keeps moving her towards the culprit of the noise, both hands grabbing onto the body of the umbrella with a plan inside her head. She’ll knock this motherfucker down for scaring her that way.

The robber has some sense of humor, however. When she stands in front of one of the storage rooms, the door half-opened, the sound of one Eminem song escaping his lips becomes the main source of speech in this room. Who the hell sings an Eminem song when stealing?

The world is made out of colors and opinions. Maybe, this robber found it fitting.

She opens the door with one swing, lifting her umbrella well up in the air before knocking it against the robber’s head, the smack welcomed by a groan and a whine from the stealer.

“I’m going to call the police—” The robber turns around, both hands cladding his head, his brown hair sticking out at certain spots, a confused glance in his eyes. Well, so that is why the robber was singing Eminem…because it wasn’t a robber at all. “Mingyu?”

Blame it on her sleep deprivation. Yes. That’s it.  

“Ouch?” Mingyu utters out, separating the word in syllables just as she reaches forward, rubbing the portion of his head that she just hit.

“I’m sorry. I thought it was someone trying to steal from me and kill me—”

“Who sings while stealing?” Mingyu questions, finally lifting his gaze and straightening his body. His eyes connect to hers, and she finally realizes just how much of a bitch paranoia is.

“I don’t know. I’m sure they enjoy music, as well.”

Mingyu looks at her for a second, blinking, silenced, until laughter escapes his lips. Shortened, at that. “You should consider changing your career path. That arm?” The man flings his arm back and forth, as if pretending to receive the ball from a pitcher in a baseball game. “Perfect for a baseball player.”

Crossing her arms over her chest, she grins. “What were you even doing here, oh-so-funny-man?”

The man in question waves his camera in the air, clearing his throat soon after. “Checking the pictures and the videos to see which ones I should take tomorrow.” Right, he probably was preparing for the big night as well. “You’re doing great, by the way. I could hear you from here.”

It’s been a while since she has believed she has done great. Her umbrella becomes her axis, resting it on the floor as she leans on it, a sigh leaving her lips. “I still have a long way before I get to Hyun’s level.”

A bright star under a roof, that’s how Hyun was going to be perceived, while she was going to be one twinkling firelight passing by. Mingyu bites the inside of his cheek, moving towards her with careful steps. “Hey, it’s not a competition…” He tries to make her feel better, as per usual with Kim Mingyu for what she has realized from his videos, but she shakes her head, chuckling in the process.

“God, I’m making it too serious.” She rolls her eyes. After all, Mingyu is a complete stranger. It’s not like he knows that she has seen one of the most private portions of his life in video. “But yes, you’re right. It isn’t supposed to be a competition, but it’s what Hyun has made it so…”

“Then, win.” Mingyu concludes, his lips lifting to the left in a smirk.

She quirks one eyebrow, tilting her head to the side. “Easier said than done.”

“Like everything, but just wait, people will see the same thing I did today.” His eyes trail down her features, chuckling a bit to himself out of awkwardness before clearing his throat. One step back, and the electricity is cut short. “Your pictures came out fine, too. I’ll make sure to do a great job tomorrow.”

“You’re going to be the photographer for the rest of the play?”

“From time to time. As long as I’m not gigged, I’ll be here.” Mingyu replies, placing the strap of his camera’s bag on his shoulder before sighing. “I’ll go catch up on some sleep now. You’re staying here until the morning or do you want me to call you a taxi?”

Tiredness lingers on her body, but she can’t bring herself to sleep. Not when she is one step closer to either fulfilling or destroying her dream. Opening the door for him, she shakes her head. “I’ll stay here until the morning.”

“You sure?”

“I have to practice.”

“If you say so…” He trails, stepping out of the door and walking alongside her before speaking up again. “You know everything is going to be fine, right?”

One look at his profile and suddenly, the warmth that makes place inside her body lets her feel so. Being alright is something she hasn’t considered in the past month of pushing herself to utter perfection, but maybe, it isn’t so far away.

“I think so, too.”

Sprinkles of rain patter against the sidewalk when Mingyu opens the entrance door, swirls of air moving his hair before he places his beanie on top of it once again. Before he could step outside, his hand grabs the handle of the door, sharing a glance with her when saying:

“I hope to see you again.”

With that, just like a leaf through the wind, he flies away.

###

Success tastes like honey.

The magic of being on stage in a musical is that she doesn’t see anybody, but she feels them. The silence that merges into cheers, the faint gasp from someone on row three, or the flash of a camera from someone who wants to capture this moment for when they feel like going back down the stage of nostalgia. Critics scatter around the place, but she can’t vision them, maybe for the better. With shred clothing, bruises and tiredness painted on her skin, she is her character, and whatever her past said about her no longer exists here.

The only thing that lacks are her loved ones, somewhere else in the country, living their lives while she constructs her own. Jaehyo does an imminent job in catching people’s attention with his dance, though not in the center, and Sue does not fall behind with her immaculate acting skills. Hyun, the star of the night, receives attention as deserved. Sure, she is not the most beautiful of people on the inside, but her talent is outraging.

When her bare feet come in contact with the center of the stage, sharing it with Hyun, she spares one look towards the groups of people. First row, with his dark hair absentmindedly pushed away from his face, a black, oversized t-shirt cladding his body and matching his ripped jeans, Mingyu is squatting down to get the perfect shot. The dimmed lights do not let her see the beauty of him, but the camera is pointing towards her, and she relishes on it.

Mingyu’s camera does her justice, after all.

By the time the musical is over, a smile takes over her features, backstage and hearing the standing ovation, blood pumping, hands jittery, and heart on her sleeve when she goes over to Jaehyo and wraps her arms around him with emotions bubbling up on her bloodshot eyes. She really needs to sleep.

The older man’s arms end around her waist. “We did it, Jaehyo! It was a success!” Jumping up and down on his hold, Jaehyo chuckles at her antics.

“Calm down, calm down, it’s only the first night.” Jaehyo whispers, pulling away with a lazy smile on his face. “…But it was one hell of a good first night. Pizza for celebration?”

“You know it!”

The next fifteen minutes consist of taking pictures, trying her best not to concentrate on the photographer or on the hunger that creeps up her body, unable to smile as brightly if it wasn’t for Mingyu. Lacking sleep, needing a nice, fulfilling meal, it’s no wonder that she had not slept a single minute in the past forty-eight hours. Maybe, that’s why she is a bit bummed when Mingyu doesn’t say a thing to her, continuing with his job with utmost professionalism.

Some children gather to take pictures with the cast, unknowingly filling her heart with pride. In one point of her life, she was like them, eager and excited to get the attention of her favorite characters. The magic of theater is that characters, and actors alike, are not unreachable to the watcher. It’s a live source of magic.

Jaehyo is off to greet the deliveryman outside by the time thirty minutes have passed. Her makeup wipes run across her skin, ready to take off the excessive amount of makeup on her skin and exchange it for breathing pores and comfort. She stops looking at her reflection to hunt for someone with the mirror, scanning the room unbeknownst to the rest of the people there. Mingyu’s thighs extend when seated at the edge of one of the vanities backstage, clicking through the pictures as one of the children talks to him. Mingyu seems to be intently listening to the child, but when he looks for something from the corner of his eyes, she feels his gaze on hers.

Her eyes trail down his toned arms, the expansion of his thighs, seeking for the art in him as if she is DaVinci and he is the Mona Lisa. A smile appears on her features, straightening her back and leaning her weight forward to continue to rub her makeup off, not forgetting to make herself look the best as possible. At least, he’s looking.

Yet, she shakes that thought away—he shouldn’t be looking. As far as she knows, he could still be with Yoona.

A hand extends on top of her shoulder seconds after, rubbing at the skin softly, as if giving her a massage, before breathing out her name in that somewhat deep, harmonious tone of his. “…Wasn’t so difficult to steal the show, wasn’t it?”

For someone who is not a good talker in most occasions, the line has her beam widening. “You’re joking.”

“No,” Mingyu says, dragging one seat to her side, the plastic chair making him look smaller next to her, for her artist’s chair is much taller. His legs expand, interlocked hands settled in between his thighs, and she really should stop looking at those—

Her eyes go up.

“Want to look at your pictures?”

She puts the makeup wipe down, running her fingertips on top of her eyelashes to check if there is any leftover mascara there. Clean. All the makeup is off. “Is that the only conversation we are ever going to have? My pictures?”

“We should.” Mingyu mumbles out, frowning his features in confusion before his eyebrows shoot up, realization falling upon him. “Not that I don’t want to talk to you about anything else! Shit, that sounded like such—. Yes, we can talk about something else.”

The smell of thick sauce, melted cheese and corn has her turning towards the red curtains, watching Jaehyo slip inside before giving her the box of pizza that belongs to her. Thanking him softly, she opens it on top of the vanity, pointing at it as she talks to Mingyu. “Help yourself. I haven’t had one of these since the night at the bar.”

Mingyu stands up, hovering over her to be able to get a piece, and she tries her hardest not to bite her lip at the vision of his profile. Definitely crafted by an artist, he is a sculpture made person. “And yet, here you are, eating it again.”

“It may be our thing now.” She replies, leaning back on her seat to watch Hyun downing yet another energy drink, hands contracting against each other, her expression turned somber. “Hey, Hyun!” She calls out, only to have the woman frowning at the sound of her voice and turning her head to the side.

“What do you want?”

“I asked Jaehyo to bring you some pizza. Tell him to—”

“I won’t have it.” Hyun finishes, picking up her purse and throwing it over her shoulder. “…Thank you.” She utters, though she doesn’t stay for long, opening the red curtains and getting away from the actors’ spot.

She doesn’t know why she tries. Maybe, because she thinks the tension between Hyun and herself could be the downfall of the musical, but Hyun is just too thick mentally. “How did this whole rivalry start?” Mingyu says, taking the first bite of his slice before he huffs slightly, trying to cool down the piece that is inside his mouth. Even with his lips half-parted, eyes widened, there is some cuteness to him.

Pressing the pizza up to her lips and biting on it, she shakes her head. “I have no idea.” She replies. “…Are we playing questions now?”

Mingyu shrugs. “Only if you have some.”

“About you? Endless.” She says, leaning forward until she is face to face with Mingyu, taking all in her not to look down at his lips. “When did you start taking pictures?”

“When I was seventeen,” Mingyu says, not backing down the slightest, yet chewing on his meal with expertise. He must have been hungry, as well. “One of my best friends needed some money, so he was trying for modelling gigs. Needed a portfolio and all…so I took pictures of him.”

“Did modelling work for him?”

“Almost.” Mingyu says, finalizing his pizza with one big bite, taking a napkin and pressing it to his lips before continuing after swallowing his food. “Soonyoung is good, my friend. Just…he’s shy, I guess? He didn’t see his potential then, doesn’t do it now. That’s just what happened.”

“Something good came out of it, though. You’re a great photographer.”

“Thank you.” With heated cheeks, he answers. “What about music for you? Or acting…or dancing? Like, musical stuff is just too much. I don’t know how you do it. I can barely walk and talk at the same time.”

Chuckling, she sighs, taking another slice of pizza. A string of cheese follows her first bite. “Uh,” She starts, pondering on exactly what to say. “My family has always been…well, famous. For the longest while, I thought I was going to be anything but famous, like…I don’t know, a teacher or something.” She may like children, but patience is not her biggest of virtues. “But I had no option than to be in the spotlight. Got my first acting gig in a doctor’s show, and I started to like it since then.”

“You were in TV?”

“I was patient number three. That was my character.”

Mingyu laughs joyfully, like he doesn’t care the slightest bit about what the world thinks of him—every particle of this world belongs to him and gives their attention to the beauty of his existence. “Oh, look at that, that’s my favorite character of all time.”

“Want me to give you an autograph?”

Pretending to take off his shirt, Mingyu replies: “On my boobies, please.”

“You did not.” She counterparts, doubling over in laughter at his behavior. “You better have a good set.”

“A good set of what?”

Curling her fingers in the air, she replies: “Boobies, as you called them. I call them titties.”

“Look at me ruining my own joke.”

“Lost the comedic timing, but don’t worry, that happens.” For one second, she inspects the glisten of the cheese on top of pizza, licking her lips with curiousness guiding her actions. “…Your girlfriend must like your jokes, Mingyu.”

Now, let’s see exactly what happened with Yoona. Or Kim Yoona. They should be married at this point. Mingyu runs his free hand through his hair, leaning back on his seat and crossing one leg over the other. “My friends do, but I don’t have a girlfriend to tell my jokes to.”

“…Huh?”

“Surprising?” Mingyu questions, though there is not an ounce of cockiness in his words.

“Very.”

“Why’s that?”

Pointing at the mirror, she says: “Take a look there and then, you’ll know why I wonder you don’t have someone with you.” Also, because he was one day from getting married in the last recording of the box. What had happened? Perhaps, he had been stood up, or they cut the wedding short. Or, even worse, Yoona had been the one left at the altar—

Mingyu chuckles at that moment, grease glistening on his lips, licking them to press them together. “Thank you.”

Sue comes around at that moment, sporting much more simplistic clothes and holding her box of pizza in between her hands. “We’re going to grab dessert and drinks, want to join us?” Jaehyo stands by her side, munching on his meal, and they are two angels at that moment. Kim Mingyu is single, wanting to get to know her, and maybe, hiding the fact that she knew about his relationship a little bit longer won’t do her any wrong.

She looks over at him, shrugging. “I wouldn’t mind. Want to come with us?”

“I have to take care of you if you drink, don’t I?”

“Oh, don’t be too confident.” She says, standing up and picking up her coat, closing the box of pizza in the process. “I may be the one taking care of you.”

Imitating her tone of voice, Mingyu says: “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.” Mingyu repeats, looking down at her lips before returning his gaze towards Jaehyo and Sue. “Let me grab my camera.”

###

Exquisiteness is divine. Pearls in the bracelets around her wrists, a nice dress cladding her body, and the taste of the most delicious of meals, washed away by the concoctions of a chef. The summer nights passed long ago, but the newest era of success has come to her now. Third night, not in a row, of her introduction to the musical world, and each time she sees Mingyu, they end up hanging out after. At first, it was with Jaehyo and Sue, then, it was backstage…and now, she has brought him to a four-star-restaurant, one of the most expensive in the city.

The white ceramic of the plate she is eating from leaves imprints of Ratatouille on its wake, interrupting her speech about one of her childhood memories in order to catch a glimpse of the source of the flash hitting her face. This is familiar—whenever she held hands with one of her family members as a child, someone would take the opportunity to bring a camera up her face, judge her for how she was going to turn out to be without really knowing her. Basking in money, she thought she’d never care—but she did. Having people comment on her from the moment she was born played with her mind far more than she comments.

Beauty of the soul is never enough for them. In a world like this, people can’t be pure.

But with Mingyu, she feels the purest. His eye squints as he takes a picture of her, barely touching his food, as he’d say…embarrassed that she is paying for such an expensive meal. Yet, he deserves it. Sent from heaven, bathed in the golden speckles of destiny, bringing light to the most mundane of activities. He petrifies memories, and what an irony it is, that what she ran away from the most as she was growing up is his biggest passion.

She licks her lips, half-laughing at his antics. “Did you just take a picture of me?”

“You get a very pensive look on your face when you think about the past.” Perhaps, because it hurts her. Racing cars, lovers that didn’t last more than a week, memories of self-love that plaster on what other people thought of her. Young, rich and pretty doesn’t cut it in this world. “S—Sorry, I interrupted you, didn’t I? You were talking about the last time you went to Los Angeles—”

“It doesn’t matter.” She whispers, rubbing her fingers together to take the perspiration away from her skin. “Life is monotone when you’re somewhat famous. You do the same thing over and over again, pretending like it makes you happy.”

“Is that why you moved here?”

In reality, it was the addition of a few things. Her break-up. Her dream. Her opportunity. And running away. “What’s funny is that I didn’t even know what I would do once I moved here,” She replies, shrugging her shoulders after. “My best friend, Miyoung, I talked about her with you…she’s a figure skater, and she was supposed to attend the Olympics this year, but she broke her foot two days before I left. I thought that was the big sign for me not leaving.” Thoughtfully, she thinks back to the phone call she received in the middle of the night above a month ago. Miyoung had not rested the slightest, leading to an injury and sooner than later, a broken foot. Turns out that she would not be able to perform the same way she did before. “…But Miyoung told me it was quite the contrary, that it worked as a push-over for me to get here. According to her, it was my only chance to get a name for myself.”

“You’re on your way there.” Mingyu says, though her rests his camera on his lap, tasting the meal in front of him. “…I didn’t know about your family history or about you before, but I think people will start to recognize you as your own person soon.”

Hopefully, she can only think. “You know what?” She questions. Throughout the entirety of her time there, through the videos she had seen with Mingyu starring in them, an idea had crossed her head— “I think I’d be my happiest if I was just another person into this world. Like you.”

Mingyu shakes his head. “You’re crazy.” He tells her. “Exchanging money, power and success for…being like me?”

“I happen to think you’re a very good person.”

“Kind of.” Mingyu confesses, covering his mouth when he laughs: “But the day I’m gone from this world, no one will remember me. You can leave a mark on people’s lives.”

“So can you!”

“Probably to my children in the future, but not—”

“Listen, Mingyu—” Her words cut short then. How can she say this without outing what will inherently make him mad? “You’ve left your mark on people, I am sure.”

“It’s not the same.” His eyes shine under the golden chandeliers. Young ambition takes over him. “You’ll be legendary. I’ll be remembered by my neighborhood.”

“Maybe, we could exchange.”

“Or we could meet in the middle.” Mingyu conquers, and she likes that even more. Two souls that are clearly different but dance in the middle. Her leg extends forward, brushing against his skin, because she has seen this scene a few times in her life—romance in the form of getting to know each other, but for now, she doesn’t want to care about the outcome. Fuck the introduction or the conclusion, the development is always the best part.

“You know what I want to do?” She asks, the music in the background changing into some typical jazz tune, just as she hovers over the table, face to face with him.

You, she wants to tell him, instead, she looks into his eyes, Mingyu’s expression turning serious, cutting the tension with one of his smiles. “I don’t read minds.” He says. “Tell me?”

“I want to take pictures of you.” She replies, hang reaching for the camera on his lap, trying to understand the garment when she goes back to her seat. Pulling it up to her face, she squints one eye just like he does. She only needs to focus on him, right? “And keep them.”

“Why?” Mingyu asks, though, she can see him softly changing his pose, as to look more relaxed and camera-ready. Well, he does like a bit of attention.

“I want to remember the person that makes me believe there are still good people in this world.” The camera flashes when she takes a first picture, leaning back on her seat to capture more of his body in that black turtleneck and the necklace that wraps around his body. Tanned skin, brown hair, and a beautiful smile when she says those words.

“You haven’t known me for long enough to judge that, you know?”

“Then, give me the benefit of getting to know you more.”

A glimpse of his eyes connecting with hers on the camera has her smiling. “I’ll gladly give it to you.”

At the mention of those words, she lifts her eyebrows, another picture and her mind wander towards to possibilities. “What will you give me? The benefit of getting to know you? Just that?”

“You want more?”

“…It’s enough.”

Mingyu leans forward, his face coming in full view in the camera when he snatches it away from her hold, before whispering. “I was going to say I could give you everything you want, but seeing that just knowing me it’s enough…I’ll accept it.”

God. This man will be the death of her.

###

Two weeks in and not seeing Mingyu feels like it’s almost impossible. They gravitate towards each other—polar opposites that meet in the middle. His steps are heard as she keeps her hand to his, dragging him along over the lineal rug of the hotel they visited—for the pool, which Dasom said was the best—, baby blue doors compared to white walls, the faint swish of the pool nearby making music for the two of them to hear.

“Mingyu, hurry up!”

The fabric of her yellow dress caresses her legs, needing nothing more than to feel like she is living in summer, while the wind clashes with its coldness. Hopefully, the pool warms her body. Mingyu pulls her backwards by the white cardigan draped over her body, connecting his chest to her back. With each breath he takes, her own lungs shake, his voice lowering to speak against her ear.

“What’s the rush?” He asks, the few buttons opened of his floral shirt meeting her contracted muscles. “If I really went as fast as I can go, you wouldn’t be able to keep up.”

That’s the thing with Mingyu—he says the worst of things, in the situations that have her skin heating up, her mind going to places it shouldn’t. Not when he makes her feel like nobody else has done, as if scalding her fingertips to touch him would be worth it. Just before he could apologize, like he always does, because Mingyu just can’t say one thing without fucking up, she looks at him from over her shoulder. “Try me.”

A huff escapes his lips, wrapping both arms around her waist when picking her up and starting to rush through the hallway to get to the swimming pool.

“Mingyu—” Cackles leave her lips, legs flaring because he is just not looking forward. At least, not properly. “We could fall!”

“I’ll catch you if that happens—”

“You don’t know that!”

Floating in the clouds, somewhere beyond the universe, she lets her laughter speak for her. Never would she trust someone with this, but this is Mingyu she is talking about. The man that opens his heart without much thinking. “I promise I won’t let you fall. Just tell me when the swimming pool is close.”

Patting his arm, the toned skin coming in contact with her hand, she says: “Now, now! We’re close—”

Mingyu lets go of her after releasing her on the floor with a thud, turning around to watch the smile on his face when he puffs out his chest and adds: “See? I would never let you fall.”

“Not scientifically proven, so I’m not sure if I can believe you.”

“…You’re so annoying.” Laughing, she places her hands on each side of Mingyu’s body. She needs to get back to him, steal chuckles from his lips, so with one step back, she prepares for the biggest surprise of all. “Do you want me to turn around so you can take off your dress or—?”

Another step back and they are both falling inside the pool, dragged by her own weight.

Warm water bubbles around her, unable to open her eyes until her lungs receive air when getting to the surface. There, the droplets of water cling to her eyelashes, watching Mingyu merging up about at the same time that she did. His shirt clings to his body, thankfully wearing his bathing suit, strands of brown hair pressed to his gorgeous skin when he splashes water her way, though she’s already laughing.

“Don’t do that!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Yet, Mingyu keeps splashing water at her, getting closer and closer until he is just mere centimeters away.

“You think it’s funny, don’t you?”

“I’m a musical actress, not a comedian. Sorry.” Taking the damp cardigan in between her hands, she tosses it to the side, landing at the edge of the pool with a clanking noise from its buttons before jutting her chin forwards towards him. “I’m sorry about your shirt.”

“You just wanted me to take it off.”

“You would’ve even if I hadn’t thrown you into the pool.”

“So, you brought me to this pool for that on the first place.” Mingyu says, brown irises darkening when her fingers reach for the edge of her dress, pulling it up until she is left in a one-piece. That’s the magic of him—making her feel like there is not a competition, as if she’s the most gorgeous woman he has seen in a while. Her assumptions about herself are not seen by him.

“So,” She says, letting the dress fall to the side and trying not to cling to her own body, shrinking in order to hide away from him. Mingyu’s fingers hook around every button of his shirt, taking it off little by little to showcase his slim, yet toned body. “Swimming competition and whoever gets to end of the pool buys dinner?”

“I’ll buy dinner either way, but sure—” She needs to look away. The least she needs is that lingering voice inside her head that tells her that she’d do absolutely anything to get a taste of Kim Mingyu. It feels wrong, how he doesn’t know where she lives, what she found out when being there, how the lines of their stories always seemed to connect…but maybe, he’d feel taken off guard if only he knew the truth. That, in retrospect, she had seen the beauty of him before he even knew about her.

Her phone rings from the bag that she had left at the edge of the pool when Mingyu dropped her on the flooring. Incessantly. Even when she starts swimming with him, laughing along and splashing him on the face at the same time he does, it continues ringing.

Mingyu spares one look at her, pointing at her phone when saying: “Want me to get it for you?”

“No,” Worry rises up inside of her, swimming quickly until she got to the edge of the pool, the third call appearing on her screen once again. Mingyu’s presence is felt right behind her, but she can’t concentrate on him when she reads the contact.

Miyoung.

Something happened to Miyoung.

“Hello?” Fear clings to her chest. Miyoung, her best friend, the apple to her eye, could not have her life any worse than what it is right now. She doesn’t deserve it and as her best friend, she won’t let it happen. “Miyoung, are you okay?”

“Of course, babe. I’m fine.” Miyoung speaks in her typical purred out tone. A breath trapped inside her lungs lets go at that moment, leaning her weight forward just when Mingyu presses his hand to her back, rubbing those soothing circles that she knows so much.

“How is your foot?”

“Healed, thankfully. You already know that.”

“Goddamn it, Miyoung, I thought something had happened to you—”

“Haven’t you checked YouTube? I’m not the one you should be worrying about. Worry about yourself.”

YouTube? One or two videos about her musical had appeared, but she hasn’t been in the headlines for a bad reason. “Why should I worry? What are you talking about?”

Mingyu moves over to her side, and she can feel his eyes penetrating into her side profile when Miyoung utters out: “Haseul released his newest comedy special, and the motherfucker mentioned you. People are going crazy with the memes, you need to check it out.”

“What?” Her ex-boyfriend hadn’t crossed her head in a while. After all, remembering what hurt her the most—the obsession of always being right, the lies, the friends that he said he had nothing to do with and the way he passed her every opinion over his ass as if it didn’t matter…is not what she plans on doing. Not when she’s moving on. Yet, it seems like he doesn’t want her to do just that.

“Check it out. I’m—I’m talking to my PR team man to make a statement. I’m tired of his bullshit.”

“Don’t, don’t!” She says quickly. Miyoung’s career has already fallen down, she doesn’t need unnecessary drama. “I’ll fix it. I—I just need to look at it, okay?”

“Babe, promise me you’re not going to feel bad.”

“Is it that bad?”

“Horrible.”

“Then, I can’t promise anything.” With a sigh, she looks down. “I’ll call you later, okay? Let me see what all of this is about.”

When putting her phone down, it takes less than a second for Mingyu to speak, worry dripping from his every tone. “Wh—What happened?”

Well, time for a fraction of the truth. “Before I came here…I was dating some guy. Well, we had been dating for three months at a maximum. Cheated on me. Went out partying. The typical stuff someone of power does in most occasions.” Turning to her side, she takes the phone in between her hands, looking up the comedian’s name. “He’s a comedian. Eo Haseul. I don’t know if you know him but—”

“Yeah, I know about his comedy.” Mingyu’s frown deepens, extending one hand when leaning on the edge of the pool. “Isn’t he the guy who can only make sex jokes?”

“The one and only.” There it is, the video that Miyoung had been talking about, with over six hundred thousand views in four hours. Well, there goes her reputation. The title of his comedy set is shown there, but nothing else is added. “…We broke up before I left. He broke up with me, basically. Miyoung just called me to tell me he made a comedy set about me.”

“No way.” Mingyu whispers, leaning over her shoulder to be able to look at the loading screen.

“I mean, it shouldn’t be that bad, let’s see what he says.”

It was even worse than she had imagined.

Haseul, in what she had once thought was perfection, stares at the laughing crowd as his lips rest against the mic. His hair is sleeked back, thick eyebrows pursed together when he says: “And yeah, man, I learned last summer that you shouldn’t date a famous bitch. Or a semi-famous one. Normal, average women are fine but give someone some money and they think they can do whatever the fuck they please.” A few sets of laughter follow his statement, and he scoffs a bit for dramatics, trying to make himself sound more interesting. “I’m sure you guys know who I’m talking about, but…now that I’m out of that relationship, I can say that she was crazy. Eyes rolled to the back of her head, greedy as all shit, type of crazy.” He says, as if she is not human—as if she had not done everything in her power to make that toxic relationship work. “I would show you all the videos we had of each other fucking, but man, it’s just too crazy. I’d have to be filling all holes, even the bellybutton. When women are given power? They don’t get pleased by anything. I’d have to contort my body and shit, just to be able to make her moan for one second.”

Tears well up in her vision. The intimacy they had, exaggerated and highlighted for the world to see, torn to shreds because she is a woman with apparent power. Why is it that she can never have some source of happiness before it gets taken away from her?

“And the issues, man. God, I would have to hear her sigh on and on about her issues after sex. Just had my dick and she still had the time to think about how her rich, immaculate life was just not enough for her. See what I mean?”

Laughter, even though it’s not funny, people seem to enjoy it. Trying to turn the tables around, Haseul shrugs.

“I can’t even show you the videos because…I have to be honest, I’m not the biggest of men when it comes to that but—” For once, he targets himself, but the smirk on his face says he is not over with it. “It doesn’t matter. I have to cover my back. The bitch blocked me with the same hand she used to jerk me with.”

The subject changes, but her ears are ringing. Burning anger, impotence, and the tears that escape her eyes as she puts her phone down and rests her forehead against the tiles of the pool.

What was she thinking when she got with him?

“None of those things are true…” She whispers, covering her mouth as if to stop herself from talking. Mingyu, however, maneuvers his body to be able to wrap his arms around her. Her face rests against his chest, the cold skin touching hers, too afraid to look him in the eye. What will he think of her after watching that—?

“I know it’s not true.” Mingyu’s voice has turned serious, pulling away only to have her further pushing her face to his chest. “Do you have his number?”

Mind whirling, overheated, she hums. “I do, but I have it blocked.”

“Give it to me.”

“Mingyu—” Finally, she pulls away, bloodshot eyes staring up at him. “I’m tired of the problems around me. I’m absolutely done with people caring about my whereabouts and what I do. I don’t want more drama—”

“I just want to put him in his place.” Mingyu whispers, pushing her wet hair away from her face before breathing out a small: “Please?”

In the light of the pain caused, her lips are paralyzed, unable to connect her tongue to her mind in order to let some words out. Instead, she reaches for her phone, going through the contact list before seeing it:

Eo Hanseul (Do Not Respond).

Mingyu takes his own phone from her purse—he asked to have it there—, jotting down the numbers before bringing the device up to his ear. He gets out of the water, droplets following after his steps to be able to talk in private. Standing by the clear doors of the hallway, Hanseul seems to pick up his call, because his eyebrows furrow and he opens his mouth to speak.

Kim Mingyu doesn’t seem like the type of man to get angry, but he does that night.

Much of what he says is not understood, unable to disconnect her eyes from mixing the water of the pool with the waterfalls of her feelings, but Mingyu’s voice raises, speaks into the void when he says: “…I don’t care, man, you either grow some balls and start respecting her or you’ll have to have a talk with me.” Now, he seems much taller, buffer, as if his words may be able to deflate the softness of him. Rolling his tongue through his teeth, he hears to what the other man has to say, just as she’s getting out of the pool, only her calves pushed inside. “You think I’m some fool you can play with?”

Well, in comparison, Mingyu is much better than Hanseul. Less of a fighter, more of an empath. However, his Adam’s apple bobs up and down when he swallows, a frown taking over his features.

“You either take all the bullshit you’ve said back or I’ll make sure you pay for it, okay?!” Before Hanseul could retort, the man shakes his head. “I don’t know, release some statement, get your tongue up your ass, but you’ll never talk to her or about her ever again, understood?”

Then, the call comes to an end. Radio silence.

Mingyu puts his phone down, extending his arms just to say: “Come here.”

And she does cling to him, feeling his heartbeat against her eardrums as she cries someone else’s ignorance away.

Though, for Mingyu, the picture is different. “You’re more than whatever people judge you for. Don’t forget that.”

###

Act twenty-four. Twenty-fourth time performing the same character. The critics are getting worse.

Perhaps, it’s her fault. Seated on the wooden floor backstage, while wrapping her legs in bandages to be able to stand the aches, ignore the blossoming memories of the falls she has done while practicing, she sees the most destroyed person in the room staring at herself back in the mirror. Hyun looks way more tired than she did when they were practicing, curling her hand against her stomach—perhaps, suffering by the number of products she puts in her body to be able to keep herself energized—, eyes void of the glint of pertinence that had once coated them, bathed in shadows.

Once again, she takes another energy drink, and it’s about this time that she speaks out the certainty in the room. The one spoken secret that she whispers to herself at night. “I’m worried about you.”

Hyun stops at that moment, not even sparing her a glance, and the shutter of Mingyu’s camera comes to a halt when she finally outs the obvious. Hyun may not like her, but she was a fan of her before she even got here. Talented, she is, and her stomach must not be doing good by the number of energy drinks, caffeine and whatever else she has. Her stress is getting to her, cohabiting inside of her body.

The woman lifts her eyebrows, sucking her cheeks in when she says: “You don’t have to. I’ll be fine.”

“Even I’m not fine.” She confesses, standing up from the floor with wobbling legs. Too overworked. “Hyun, stop drinking this. If you aren’t sleeping or you can’t keep up, it’s okay. We’re here to help each other—”

When her hand comes forward to take the energy drink from her, Hyun pushes her body backwards, the anger in her features dissipating. “You don’t get it.”

“Of course, I do.” She says, only to have Hyun bitterly scoffing.

“Yeah, right.” She concludes, putting the can down before resting her slim hands on her hips. “If this musical keep going like it is, on its downfall, I won’t get any other chance to shine. I won’t get a starring role, and I will definitely see my dream die. You don’t go through that. You have a home to go to, and money to spend—”

An inexplicable feeling embargoes her. While Hyun had gained this position with hard work, a part of her existence there was just for publicity—and her mere presence is what is bringing the musical to its conclusion. “Hyun, I promise…you’re too talented to ever do shit wrong. You’ll get a chance when needed.”

“You don’t know that!” Hyun shouts, running her fingers through her hair before sighing. “Mind your business, okay? Stay out of my way, and stop playing the victim here. I’m fine. I just need to practice more.”

“Go home, Hyun.” She tries to reason, taking the woman by the forearms. “I know you hate my guts, and I would, too, if I were you…but please, just…rest for tonight. The show’s over. We can go home.”

“You do this because you don’t want me to practice so you can be better than me, huh?”

Shaking her head, she tries to reason with her. “I would never. Really. I’m over that.”

“Who are you kidding? Yourself or me?” Hyun questions, taking the filled energy-drink can before tossing it in the nearby trashcan. “Happy now?”

“Hyun—”

“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’ll go home.”

Her body brushes against hers when passing by her, the clicking of her shoes a sound that she doesn’t want to ignore. Hyun, in that moment, becomes a heroine to her. Image of hardships and hard work, someone who would rather tire herself out than disappointing her vision of herself. Perhaps, she had judged everything wrongly, imagined herself to be this immaculate being that did not deserve to be hurt.

No one does. Hyun didn’t either.

Mingyu accompanies her outside, like he always does, ready to go out with her after another show. However, as the wind bites her arms under her dark denim jacket and the taxis pass by them, ready to be called by her, she feels his hand resting over her shoulder, turning around to look at him. Peaceful, yet worried.

Tugging at the sleeves of his pink sweater, the strands of his hair swirling against his forehead with the movement of the breezy night, Mingyu admits: “I think you need to drop out of this musical. Kaleigh does not care about any of you.”

That much she knows. The leader, the director, only cares about the image she wants to portray of the character, not about the actors that play them. Still, letting go would mean going back home…and back home, she’d go back to the same routine. “What if I don’t find another chance to be on the stage?”

Mingyu sighs. “You and Hyun aren’t so different after all.” The more she sees herself projected in that vanity backstage, the more she sees herself turning into Hyun. Though talented, a portion of herself will get lost down this path. The one that hopes for a happy ending. “Sometimes, we have to realize that what we dream of is not always going to be our reality. And this is not to tell you your dream is not valid, because it is, but the more you stay here…the more it will hurt you to leave. You deserve better than what Kaleigh is giving you, and even if you end up with a small role in some show, or get back on stage again…you’re still you.”

“Well, maybe I’m tired of being me.” She replies, letting her weight lean against the side of his body, his arm cradling her shoulders, eyes looking down at her while she connects her gaze with his, down to his lips.

“I like you.” Mingyu rasps out, though, if he knew where she lived…what she saw…what she knew about his past, would he still be open about those words? “Please, never stop being you.”

She thinks, at this moment in her life, she’ll never stop being his. Yours, she wants to tell him, even if this doesn’t work out, my soul will always be yours.

Though, she fears. What if he isn’t hers? Though he wasn’t hers at the beginning of it all, she kept seeking—

And now, mere centimeters away, with his lips parted, she has him. Breaths mingling when she softens her lips against his, drapes a silent confession that she can’t quite get out without feeling guilty. If he knew more about her, perhaps, he wouldn’t like her. The issues of not knowing how to differentiate what people perceive of her and what she perceives herself, but right now, as she’s with him, she likes who she is. Her truest version, delicate, not aching to feel more, to have more of him, just letting their lips meet softly, knowingly, as if she knows every portion of him and yet, to him, she’s only a shadow.

Her arm hooks around his neck, tilting her body to the side to taste more of him, relishing on his perfume, his hands, the way he always seems to make her feel unique, and not to outcast her, but to blend her into the groups of people that fall for each other. The romanticism that falls into monotony, but it’s oh-so-perfect in its own way.

“That’s my answer for you.” She replies when pulling away, awestruck brown eyes blinking back at her when she smiles.

I like you too, Mingyu.

###

When looking at Mingyu, she would have never believed their first official date would come in the shape of a rock concert. Much less would she have imagined that, upon entering Mingyu’s apartment, much smaller than the house he once shared with Yoona, he’d have collectables of memories that he doesn’t have the time to explain, rushing to get out the door and get to the concert. A local band that she has no idea about, but try their hardest to leave their imprint in this world.

Kissing in cars is how the date ends. In some taxi, with sneaky touches and stolen kisses that promise for a better night. Hazed in his smile, in the tight black shirt that clads his body and the way his big hand splays across her thigh, claiming a portion of her body as his. After a month, even more, of seeing each other, Mingyu feels closer than ever, seated on a portion of her heart as if it is his throne, and it may be. A King of Hearts, as she likes to call him.

The band t-shirt he had bought when getting out of the venue rests over her body, halfway pushed inside his jeans as she twists her head to the side and rests fleeting kisses on the side of his neck. His Adam’s apple bobs, a sharp intake of his breath coming with the tightening hold on her tight.

“Something you should know…” He starts, only to have her humming, teeth digging into the skin of his neck as she hums. “I—I’m not really patient, you know?” His voice wavers, enough to have her chuckling when she pulls away from him and rests a kiss on his shoulder.

“I’ve noticed. Quite childish if you ask me.”

“It’s hard to be patient when you’re around.” She looks at him from the corner of her eye, smiling.

“I’ll have to teach you how to wait, huh?”

Though, when Mingyu had gotten on that taxi, she had not thought about the address she gave. The taxi driver parks outside, thanked by Mingyu as he gives him counted bills and gets out of the yellow car. Much to her distaste, however, when she gets off as well, Mingyu is staring ahead at the white house that had once been shared with the love of his life—

Yoona.

The woman who almost married him.

The one person he had never talked about.

Mingyu opened up about a lot of portions of his live. Childhood. Cousins. Parents. Music. Photography. Collections. Love from teenage years, but Yoona was never touched. Never talked about. She never pushed it, knowing better than getting that information out of him, but when she stands by his side, watching his face turn somber, he softly asks:

“You live here?”

Warning signs appear inside her head, blaring red lights leaving her with no emergency exits. The line has cut short, no longer letting her lie to him in order to keep her secret intact. She knew him before he actually knew her, and she had thought of him as charming then. “Mingyu, yes. I didn’t want to tell you because—”

“Wait, why wouldn’t you want to tell me?” His face turns towards her, and she knows at that moment that she had fucked up. He had not assumed that she knew anything, only asked absentmindedly as memories flashed before his eyes. “Do you know something I don’t?”

She swallows thickly. She could lie to him, come up with lines and improvise, but Mingyu is one of those people that doesn’t deserve that. Instead, she tugs at the collar of the t-shirt on her body, sighing deeply. “Listen,” She starts. “When I got here, I found a box that said ‘throw away’ and it had a bunch of CD’s inside…”

Mingyu pulls back at that moment, shaking his head. “No—”

“And I watched them. You were in all of them with your ex…Yoona.” She whispers, looking over to the side, watching the house that had both introduced her to the person she feels like she is falling for, and that may take him away at that moment. “I didn’t want to pry, I swear. I just…I just did and I kept on watching because of you, and destiny did its thing and it brought us together at the bar, and with you as my musical’s photographer.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Mingyu asks, and she comes up with nothing. Because she didn’t want for him to close up with her, of course. “You knew more about him than I knew about you, and you didn’t even think about giving those CD’s to me…or just…or just tell me that she had kept them there!”

“Well, I just didn’t want you to think I was stalking you or something. It was all a coincidence!” She replies, only to have Mingyu running his hands through his hair, chuckling at the sky before groaning deeply.

“That’s my privacy!”

“Well, it’s not like I knew it was private before!” She argues back, frowning at him. “Besides, why is it so deep for you? You know about Haseul, why does it matter if I know that you almost married Yoona? It’s not like I’m jealous of a woman of your past—”

“Because you have no idea how long it took me to get over her!” Mingyu replies, voice rising, chest heaving. Then, a pout takes over his features as he explains himself, retreating the tone of voice he had just taken up on.

“If you’d let me know what happened, maybe I could understand—”

“Turns out I had a toxic relationship. She wanted me to be her little puppet, make her fantasy come true of a perfect man, and a perfect family, and possibly a…I don’t know…a social media presence where we showed how perfect we are but…I’m not perfect.” He breathes out, biting his bottom lip as he looks at her. “Can you blame me for not wanting to remember all the turmoil I went through because of her?”

“You can just not talk about it if that’s the case. I don’t mind. But you can tell me about these things—” She entices. “I’m not going to judge you, Mingyu. Our pasts are there for a reason—”

“Don’t give me that.” Mingyu answers, smile lines intensified by the purse of his lips. “You always say you want to change your past, to start again, to not remember—”

“But my past and my mistakes made me meet you!” She exclaims. “I can’t turn back time and change things because, maybe, I wouldn’t have met you if that was the case. I like you, Mingyu, almost married or not. I like you for who you are and who you were.”

“If you liked me so much, you could’ve just told me.” Mingyu mumbles, blinking softly.

“…I was afraid, okay? I get to be afraid, too. Just as you were.”

Mingyu falls silent for a second, deep in thought, walking backwards as he says: “I—I just need some time, okay? I get you, but I need…I need to process this.”

She tries to go after him, shaking her head. “Mingyu, don’t do that. We have to talk about this. I didn’t mean to remind you of a bad time—”

“Just…burn that fucking box and…and I’ll talk to you about it later, okay?” Mingyu whispers out, goosebumps going up her arms when she watches him go. Never had she seen him so shattered, hands shaking as he remembers that one portion of his life he never wanted back.

He had seemed so in love.

And now, he can’t fall in love as easily.

Yet, a new beginning is necessary, so when she retreats to her home, she picks up a lighter, walking far down the street with the box in hand to light it up.

The past makes who they are, but it doesn’t define them. From now on, she is the only one that can decide her future, and so can Mingyu for his own life.

###

“Care to tell me why you ruined every single one of my pictures?”

Last show, but Kaleigh doesn’t know it. Just as she’s applying another layer of purple onto her eye, as if to indicate the bruises from her character, Mingyu speaks to her. Over one week of not talking to each other, texts going ignored, time asked whenever they meet, and she has met more than the middle of the situation. Now she wants to go forward, know more of him than of herself, movement more eccentric in order to fuck up his work.

If that’s what it takes to get his attention…

She shrugs her shoulders, patting the makeup sponge against her eye. If he doesn’t want to talk, she won’t talk either. “Just some new dance moves. I added some popping because the character felt like it needed it.” It’s utter bullshit, and the way Jaehyo snorts from his spot tells her that no one believes her. Even Hyun seems to chuckle at her antics, Mingyu’s lost expression mirrored in the vanity.

“Bullshit.”

“Excuse me, Mr. Kim, I don’t think you can talk to the cast like that.” She answers, mischief painted on her face when she connects her gaze with his through the mirror.

Scoffing, he says: “You didn’t think that when you ruined all my shots from yesterday’s night.”

The makeup sponge now rests against the table, her fingers interlocked as she talks to him through the mirror. Today, Mingyu props some pink sunglasses on his head, a leather jacket placed on top of a white t-shirt. “I’m sure they look fine, Mr. Kim. They always do.”

“They’re all blurry.”

“My apologies. You may have to take some pictures tonight, then.”

“…If you even let me. You’re moving around like you have pinworms.”

“Oh my God!” Sue says from her spot, elbows pressing to the back of her chair to be able to look at the scenery. “Is this a pre-marital issue?”

“I think so.” Jaehyo conquers, but she only throws a look at them.

“He’s the one that doesn’t want to talk to me.” She says, standing up from her spot to be in front of Mingyu, in all his glory, staring back at her with a stoic expression. “So…in order to get his attention, I had to find other ways to do it.”

Mingyu breathes out softly, staring around the room before wrapping his hand around her arm. “You want to talk? Let’s do it in private.”

The storage room in which they had met initially, memory of the umbrella that she hit against his head, now becomes the spot for them to meet in. Far more cramped than she remembers it for, with a tiny chair that Mingyu used to take up on to check his pictures. The man in question locks the reddened door behind him, giving one step forward and hence, ending up pressed to her body, hands placed on his own hips when he asks:

“You have something to say? Speak.”

Maybe, she had tried the worst of ways to get his attention. Annoyance, for once, is not something that pairs up with Mingyu’s face in most occasions. Yet, she finally gets to hear his voice. Angered. Cut short. Yet, unknowing of the reality that breathes through her pores.

“I’m sorry…for not telling you I had seen those videos. It was your privacy and I shouldn’t have looked, but after I did, I should’ve told you and given them to you to get rid of them. I did, but yeah…” Her voice falls into a softened tone, looking into his brown irises, down to his straight nose, a few speckles of facial hair on top of his lip, barely noticeable and those rose-colored lips that she has been missing for the past week. All of him, really, from his voice to his thoughts, to the impatience that takes over him. “Mingyu, I would never judge you for your past. Not when you weren’t the one at fault. We all make mistakes and I don’t think any less of you for being naïve enough to involve yourself in that situation. I like you with or without Yoona in your life. If you want to talk about it, I’ll accept it…if you don’t—”

“I want to talk about it.” Mingyu says, breathing out in a way that has the warmth of him touching her lips. His chest expands, flush against her breasts, when he explains his truth. “I met Yoona when I was seventeen. She was friends with Seungkwan, a friend of mine, and he got us in this blind date thingy because…I don’t know, I was bored, I wanted a date.” He shrugs, though his eyes show that he really cares. “So, we started a relationship…and we started living together soon enough. I didn’t care. I worked two jobs, all to be able to move from our apartment to a bigger house, and then she got other jobs…and we made it. She said she wanted to have a family soon, that she’d start recording us…whatever. You know that part.” His life seemed so much easier than what he described, but that’s just what the video-camera showed. “Turns out that she got out of all her jobs, expected me to pay for everything, and lived the most exotic of lifestyles. If I ever told her we couldn’t buy something, she’d take it out on me…” Mingyu sighs, shaking his head in the process. “We’d fight all the time, but I loved her, so I proposed. Turns out that it didn’t work, and I cut off the engagement the morning of our wedding.”

“As you should have…” She elongates, only to have Mingyu chuckling darkly.

“Yeah. I was reassured that it was a good decision when three days later she started dating a famous YouTube guy and she started vlogging for real.”

“I’m so sorry, Mingyu.” With all the sincerity she can muster, locked away in the depths of her heart only for him to see, she sighs. “…You deserve better.”

“I know I do.” He finalizes. Looking down at her lips before smiling softly. “Glad we sorted that out.”

“Sorted that out? I acted like a spoiled brat just to get your attention. I’m sorry for that, too—”

“Ah, don’t worry.” Mingyu replies, wrapping his arms around her waist before pressing her back to the wall. The dry paint clings to her clothing, rubs against it when his fingers rub against her skin over the fabric. “You always have my attention, even if you ruin my pictures in purpose just to get me to talk to you. I needed some time, that’s all.”

“Yeah…I’m so sorry.”

Mingyu doesn’t utter another word, lips conjoining in a smile before they rest over her own. Much of the like of the type of kisses they had shared in that taxi ride, hands folding the fabric of her clothing when he brings her clothing, breathing against her skin as he slowly takes over the kiss. His lips part, his left hand going down to his hips, towards her thigh before lifting it over, pulling their bodies closer when he settles himself between her legs, head turned to the side just as her fingers rake through his hair.

He doesn’t care. Doesn’t mind having his hair messy, his camera pushed away from his neck and put carefully to the side as she continues kissing him. Though, he does care about her, only pulling away to ask: “How many minutes you have until you go up the stage?”

Staring at the clock on the wall, she breathes against his lips. “Like thirty minutes.”

“May I…?” Mingyu asks, eyes joining desire with worry, pressing his hips forward, abdomen contracting when her hand caresses his jaw, touches his neck and lets her thumb rub over the column of his throat.

“…Of course, Mingyu.”

It’s not the most romantic of places, but it happens with a soul she doesn’t want to exchange. For once, his name becomes a poem, and she will never find a rhyme better than him.

###

Two set of judgmental eyes watch her as she slides the folded piece of paper in her hands towards Kaleigh. Always sporting an all-black outfit, those glasses that hide the malice in her gaze, and before her lips could part to utter one of her simplistic sentences, she bathes on the glow of getting out of her last show. Of trying her best, and yet, not having the best outcome.

“It’s over.” She says, sighing deeply with joined lips as she rests her hands in the depths of her jeans’ pockets. “I don’t want to be part of this musical anymore. Thank you for the opportunity, but I feel as though I don’t fit this team…or your vision of me, whatsoever.”

There, while the rest of the team are taking off their makeups, getting rid of their clothing, children bustling around, overexcited from the sceneries, Kaleigh is speechless. Hyun, on one hand, steps forward, eyes widened.

“She can’t leave.” Turning to her, she shakes her head. “You can’t leave, you’re one of the main characters.”

“I don’t think I will continue down a path of happiness if I stay here. My mental health comes first, and Kaleigh can’t bring me that as a director.” She adds, pointing at the paper in between Kaleigh’s hands, still unopened. “Right there, you can see my resignation letter. I don’t want to be part of this team anymore, and Kaleigh can choose to talk badly about me as an actress if she so pleases.”

Kaleigh scoffs from her spot, nodding at what she says. “Of course, I will. How unprofessional do you have to be to leave the musical like this?”

What hurts her the most is leaving her cast. Leaving her character, ever, that wants to give out such an important message about the reality people live. Instead, she has to let go. Better opportunities will come for a dream that is not yet set in stone. “Very. But I think it’s the best decision.” Pushing herself away from the situation, she starts walking away from the stage. Her home, really, but one that will fall to shambles if she doesn’t leave now.

She doesn’t expect to hear someone’s voice then. “We need you.” Mixed with her name, Hyun speaks. The woman that hates her the most, yet, when turning around, seems to look at her with a plea in her brown eyes. She smiles, because Hyun deserves it. The woman is given, that much she can say.

“You don’t.” She answers, sighing deeply. “The stage needs you, but it doesn’t need me. As long as you keep this story alive, I can be replaced. That, you don’t have to worry about—”

“But you won the audition—”

“No, it was given to me.” Truthfully, the more she thought about it, the more she realized Kaleigh never wanted her there for her talent. “And I don’t want to be there for publicity. I don’t need that pressure on me. So, the real talent should stay.”

With that, she turns around, giving the last few steps until the coldness of the night bites at her skin.

Seated on the sidewalk, Mingyu rummages through his phone, unaware of her presence as he listens to music with his earphones plugged in. The cars pass by, gray concrete matching his dark outfit. Just a few hours earlier, she had seen him without him, but not sedated yet, she kneels until she is hugging him from behind, pressing a kiss to his cheek and humming in delight at the heat of his body.

Not hers. A person can’t be hers. And though he isn’t hers, she doesn’t mind it.

Mingyu takes off one of his earphones, turning around to look at her and asking a silent question with his eyes.

“What?” She puzzles, only to have Mingyu widening his eyes.

“How did it go?”

“Badly. It hurts.” Her heart aches at the idea of not getting another chance, giving all her might into acting tonight…and perhaps, the only night that she will get to act again. “But it’s what I had to do. I’m going to find a better opportunity later on.”

His smile widens, leaning forward to steal a kiss from her lips before joining his free hand with the ones conjoined over his stomach. “I’m so proud of you.”

“If you’re so proud, let me invite you to dinner.” Standing up, she watches as he follows after her steps.

“Let me pay for once!” He whines, only to see her shaking her head.

“Nope. I’m your designated sugar mommy.”

“You’re totally not.” Mingyu denies, wrapping his arm around her shoulder.

“Come on, let me live the dream.”

Though, hers will remain paused for now…until a better chance comes about. A real one, perhaps.

###

Bad news always come like a train-wreck. Life is silent for a second, too eerily silent, and the moment she opens her eyes, everything is shattered. This time around, it wasn’t any different. Seated on the counter, Mingyu working on making a set of pancakes, taking his precious time on heating them to utter perfection, she doesn’t think anything when turning on her phone. If anything, she is staring forward, at the way Mingyu’s back muscles contract with the movements of his arms.

Kim Mingyu has this magic of appearing in someone’s life and never giving the person the benefit of asking themselves if they want him to leave. She doesn’t, and that’s factual. A little above a month after she left her job at the musical, she has tried to avoid all contact with everyone from her cast—from Jaehyo to Sue, obviously with Hyun, trying her hardest to show to her family and friends back at home that she can stay here and fulfill a dream. So far, nothing has worked.

But Mingyu has.

Not spoken into the night but fallen into place, Mingyu spends more time at her place than he does on his, giving a piece of his heart to her, while he has all of hers. With each passing day, the comfort of him becomes the sunlight of her days, though the clouds seem to gather in her personal life. Mingyu finds gigs, but the tabloids have forgotten about her after the viral video of her past relationship.

This time around, the headlines in her phone—from the notifications of her favorite magazine—inform her something more.

Han Hyun dies while practicing for new musical. Doctors confirm gastrointestinal bleeding.

When standing up, the chair falls behind her. Fear. Petrification. Perhaps, regret. Hyun had so much life within her—a pulsating need to be the best, and she was. Then, stress took up all of her life. So young, yet now not existing in the same world as them.

The room seems to rotate by the time Mingyu speaks her name into the dense air. “Hey, what happened?” He moves towards her, but she gives a few steps back, uttering the words that hurt her just by hearing them.

“Hyun died.”

One never really thinks about an enemy dying. A rival, really. The fear starts to become palpable when people think of their loved ones dying, but when it comes to someone that they can’t stand…it almost seems favorable. To have them away from this world. Yet, she can’t even utter another word, entering her room and throwing herself into the bed. The sheets are crumpled between her palms, tears blinding her vision as she thinks of all the times, she bumped hands with Hyun.

She was so talented.

It almost felt like she had to take care of her. Each and every single time she told her to mind her own business, she never did.

The door opens softly, her name called once again, though she doesn’t want to listen. Never has she liked Mingyu seeing her crying, but at this point, when he rests his weight next to her on the bed, his elbow resting adjacent to her body as he horizontally leans his weight on her back, she can’t help but let out a little weep.

“Hey…” His fingers trail down her spine, speaking softly. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not.” She turns around, hair done a mess as she stares into his eyes, trying to stop the hiccups that shake her frame. “She had so much to give, and look at what happened to her. I couldn’t even—I don’t know, say goodbye to her?”

“You don’t have to think about what you didn’t do.” Mingyu replies after a few seconds of silence, bringing his body forward until he is hovering over her, kissing the tears away before pressing a soft kiss to her lips. “…You can only think about what you’re going to do now. Not take people for granted. Get to know people better. Avoid rivalries. That’s all you can do.”

Staring up at him, she realizes one thing. One day, we’re here, the other, we’re not. We don’t belong to anyone—not even ourselves—, but to the world instead. Life plays with us like marionettes, puts us in places that we think we can never get out of, but the road ahead is so much more surprising. Living in a labyrinth, looking for people who understood her, new beginnings and thrilling stories, she found someone. A person that she doesn’t want to lose, and someone whom hasn’t heard the truth. The full and heart-wrenching truth.

Because Mingyu is there. Belongs to the universe, and never to her. One day, anything could happen. He could get tired, bored, could simply move on and call it quits. He could come home one day and say that he doesn’t want to be with her anymore. But now, as his sleepy gaze stares at her with worry, she realizes that she doesn’t want him to belong to her. She wants to be with him. Aches and desires to spill her truth out and enjoy him for the time that life plants him there for her to enjoy.

May the flowers bloom of the seeds her words leave. They could die, but they will get to grow first.

“…I have to tell you something. Before it’s too late to actually say it…” She mumbles, rubbing her eyes and her nose, sniffling softly before looking into his eyes. There has always been this understanding in him, even when he doesn’t always say the proper thing—as if he knows, deep within him, that they understand each other. That no matter how many times mistakes settle on their hearts, they know their deepest intentions. “It may be too soon for you and I know I said I’d wait until you’re ready but—”

“I love you.” He says it first, aware, not shying away, savoring the taste on the roof of his mouth before stealing another kiss away from her lips. “I don’t want to wait. Good things can’t wait.”

He always said he wasn’t the most patient, but perhaps, she was the one that would wait a thousand years just to have him.

There is not an exact reason that she can think of as to why he would love her. Why, out of all things, Mingyu would open up his heart again—and why she does, too. They have been broken, but they grew two new, stronger hearts. Not fixing the old ones, but helping each other craft a new organ. One where he made a home for her, and she has made a throne for him.

“I love you and I want you to know that I’m here for you. For anything. Whatever you need me for.” He breathes out, rubbing his fingers on her cheek before looking down at her. “…If it wasn’t that what you were going to tell me, I’m sorry. Again, my second name is dumbass so—”

“I love you, too, Mingyu.” She tries to chuckle through the tears, though her bottom lip pouts out and Mingyu sighs deeply, wrapping his arms around her and relishing her with a kiss.

Though love is not perfect, it’s much better to meet in the middle. Two people who will either end up together forever, or for whatever long ever decides to stay. Never can be an option, too, but she knows that whatever the outcome is, Mingyu is the one portion of her past that she would never want to forget.

And it’s time for her to learn that the hours of the life clock are ticking, and she wants to spend all of them with him.

#mingyu scenarios #mingyu #seventeen scenarios #seventeen #kpop scenarios #writing #seventeen au #seventeen fluff #seventeen angst #mingyu au #mingyu fluff #mingyu angst #photographer!au #musical actress!Au #this is such a slowburn fic like lord help me #also i've had this idea since last year and didn't know who to write it for but #mingyu seemed fitting so #here goes

[barzzal]

take me as i am

summary: like he always does, sidney picks you up after work. the only thing he didn’t expect was to see you kissing one of your workmates. the one he’s been jealous of, to be exact.

↳ pairing: sidney crosby x you

↳ warnings: jealousy, make up sex, and the whole narrative of sidney learning you love him for the first time, minors dni*

↳ genre: angst if you squint, fluff, smut, pre-established relationship (you’re not there yet but almost), +18

↳ length: imagine; 5.9k

↳ masterlist: the barn

↳ track: skin, drunk on love by rihanna

note: this fic has been in my drafts for a while and i’m just happy i get to share it with y’all now! a lil nervous putting this out but as always, feedbacks are very much appreciated! <3

Sidney has never gripped a steering wheel so hard in his life not until he spent the entirety of waiting outside the café of your building, watching the innocent touches and laughs you share with a colleague that he has been secretly observing every time he comes and picks you up after work or your usual work brunches such as this.

You hadn’t been dating officially which is basically the reason behind why he didn’t want his petty issues out in the open. But Sidney has got to admit that even though the obvious age gap between the two of you didn’t bother him, the sight of you hanging out with guys your age– someone who could potentially connect with you in levels he knew he never could, scares the shit out of him. 

So, when he sees you give that guy a kiss goodbye and a smile that he knows he only brings out of you, that’s when he lost it. 

As soon as you get out of the café, you immediately see Sidney’s car parked at the usual spot he takes. His car was fairly tinted so he makes it a point to come out and greet you with a quick kiss before opening the door for you. However, this time, (the first time for the matter) instead of Sidney’s well built arms, what welcomed you were the car’s flashing lights beaming your way, signaling you to walk over where he was.

You didn’t mind, thinking that he must’ve been just tired from practice. Once you’ve snuck in the car and got settled, you turn to Sidney who was already turning the engine on without even bothering to give you the one thing he’s never failed to do ever since you two started going out. Kisses.

“Hey, babe.” You greet him, hand already massaging his nape as you lean in to plant a small kiss on his cheek. When you feel his jaw clenched, that’s when you knew something was definitely wrong. With furrowed brows, you were utterly bemused at his strange behavior. 

“What’s with you?” You ask him, hand still placed on his nape, now running your thumb on top of it endearingly to ease out the stress you thought he was under. Sidney didn’t bother answering and instead turned his eyes onto the rear view mirror, finally pulling off the parking spot and into the main road. 

He mumbles something which you didn’t quite hear. “What?” 

Sidney only shakes his head, dismissing the attention you have been giving him. “Nothing.” 

You decide not to push him further so you just took your hands away from him and closed your arms. You look outside the window, watching the normal busy day of the city rush before your eyes. 

It’s safe to say that you and Sidney spent the whole ride sitting in an uncomfortable silence. You try and steal a couple of glances, evidently clueless as to what caused his sudden change of demeanor. You were sure the two of you were fine because you had woken up real good this morning and even shared a steamy shower before heading for work. You sat the remainder of the car ride listening to Sidney’s heavy sighs that comes every time he stops at the traffic light. 

“Baby, come on. What’s wrong?” You ask him. This time, fueled with the desire of learning what could have possibly upset him. 

“Nothing.” He repeats only now with his voice distant and inattentive as his eyes were still pinned hard on the road.

Your gaze tread onto his veiny hand holding on the steering wheel. His brief movements whilst he maneuvers it, and his Rolex shining under the golden sun, were more than enough to send your mind miles away from where you are. You clear your voice, practically turned on by the man who’s busily ignoring you, “When you’ve done nothing but ignore me, it’s definitely not nothing.” 

Sidney is a fairly quiet man. A man that’s secured and guarded. A man that thinks about how he should react to certain situations. A man with certainty— a man that knows what he wants. That’s at least what you’ve learned from going out with him for almost a year. Sure, you haven’t had the talk about making things official after said given time, but you absolutely see yourself committing not just to him but more importantly to the relationship you have been able to build with him.

You were still working your way with having a full grasp of his sudden mood changes although this time, you just know it’s different. You see, Sidney may not be that talkative compared to his teammates but he still treated you differently. He moved around you differently. Perhaps, it’s even safe to say that the only time he gets to be himself is whenever he’s with you. His connection with you was just undeniably surreal that he’s even certain himself that he has never been this comfortable and so at home with someone who was probably still cruising through life when he got drafted in the NHL; let alone, connect with her on so many levels that no one, not even a shit ton of girls from his dating track ever did. 

However, given said time, and possibly even the age difference, Sidney does tend to get all dominant towards you that it even intimidates you at one point. That being said, that intimidation would later on ignite a fight that’s usually composed of blank stares, cold shrugs and treatments as the two of you ignore each other for the rest of the day. 

“Hon, come on. Tell me what’s wrong. Please?” You ask for the hundredth time as you tugged on the hem of the sleeves of his shirt.

You keep persuading Sid to tell you what has been bothering him that it finally got into his nerves, resulting in him involuntarily snapping at you with the sudden rise in his voice. 

“Stop it, y/n! I said it’s nothing. I’m tired. I just want to go home.” He finally breaks, causing you to take your hands off of him in an instant as if his words burn your skin. 

Lo and behold, “Alright. Fine.” were two words that rang in his ears all the way home. You did what you’re told and shut up and ignored him the whole time. You would often see him taking glances in the corner of your eye but your ego was far too stepped on to even care. You did care. He was just too much of a prick to acknowledge it. Now that he’s made his bed, he can lie on it as long as he pleases. 

Much to his realization, he immediately regretted having to raise his voice. He didn’t mean to, of course. It’s just that the image of you and the guy you’re working with was the only thing running in his mind all throughout the car ride. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you because who was he to begin with?

He didn’t have the right to tell you these things because he wasn’t exactly in the place to do so. He would never order you to quit seeing that man nor will he ever ask for more than what you can give. He just hated himself for feeling insecure and quite possibly terrified of the idea that he’d eventually lose you to a man that’s far better than him. However, out of all scenarios playing in his head endlessly, you realizing that you’re better off without him was what scared him the most. 

As soon as he pulls over the driveway, you get out of the car without uttering a single word. A thing that Sidney knew will cause him another night of sharing a cold bed with you.

𖥸

Sidney follows you into his home and watches as you head towards the stairs. The cold dead air settles quickly between the two of you whilst you continue to ignore him completely. Sidney frustratingly sighs and tosses his keys onto the accent table. He ran his hand through his hair as he followed after your steps, knowing full well that he was clearly the one in the wrong.

He sees you sitting at the end of the bed whilst you take off your red pumps. “I’m sorry.” he says at once, voice still soft amidst the fact that he was still testing the waters.

Without an ounce of thought, you stood and walked over his closet to get rid of your work clothes, sparing not an ounce of attention for the man. As you walk further his huge closet, you hear the sliding doors glide all the way as Sidney follows after your track.

“Baby…” He coos, the familiar tone in his voice that was missing a while ago now hits every nerve in your body. Although, despite feeling the same effect he’s always had on you, you still manage to let out a wild scoff while you start removing your white button down shirt in front of the mirror that stretched all the way to the ceiling, revealing nothing but your black laces that held your breasts underneath. A mundane sight that’s always left Sidney’s throat high and dry.

“Oh, so now I’m baby?” You snarked, eyes darting on him through the giant mirror.

Sidney didn’t break off contact as he approached you but once he did, your skin was the first thing his hands found the moment he wrapped his arms around your waist before you could even protest. He then plants a small kiss on your shoulder before he rests his chin on top of it.

The biggest mistake you’ve made however, was to turn your gaze on his apologetic eyes because not only did it make your heart beat faster, but it also made you realize that you can never win with this man. You were done for for good.

Besides the sight put forth exclusively for him, you brush your hand on his skin, making up for the time you’ve spent ignoring each other.

“I’m sorry.” He concedes with a pout and the little voice he makes when he’s done arguing with you; enough to make you let out a quiet laugh whilst the two of you rest in each other’s arms. You just roll your eyes and bite back a smile. A thing that lets Sid know he got through the fight even if it barely was one.

“Why were you having a fit anyway? Rough day?” Your hand finds his cheek to caress it while Sidney presses feather light kisses on your now exposed skin. 

“No. I’m just– tired.” He lies again, losing count on how much he’s told you that he was just tired. Or that it was nothing worth worrying about. But he should’ve known better. You weren’t that gullible to believe it. So, you just arch your brows and watch him stifle a tight smile upon having caught on his lie. 

“Come on, tell me.” You persuade him.

“I saw you with that guy earlier.” He starts, treading his way lightly on what’s been bothering him. His voice leaves vibration on your skin as he speaks.

You hum and asked, “Who? Mike?”

Great. He even has my back up name. He thinks but only resorts to nodding his head, admittedly enjoying how your hand brushes on his muscular arms, making it difficult for him to argue his case.

“What about him?”

“I saw you kiss him—” were just the words you needed to hear to understand the whole point being Sidney was a big jealous man himself. “You’re jealous.” You confirm with a smug smile on your face. Now having a full understanding of his unusual quietude. 

“Honey, there’s nothing to be jealous about.” You guarantee him. You then turn your back and face him. You put your arms around his neck whilst his arms fitted well as it embraced your middle. You plant a small kiss on the tip of his nose, sending heaps of the same immeasurable feeling through his system.

Sidney lets go of a sigh. Amidst his knowledge, and frankly, even the certainty of you not breaking his trust, he had nothing just as much as the guy you’re working with. The only difference, however little, was that he’s the one who’s able to take you home. Other than that, he wasn’t really sure if you were feeling the same thing as him. Or if you’d even reciprocate what he’s been trying to tell you. 

Despite that, you know best that Sidney was a clueless man and was frequently teased by his constant miss on the more important things. (Other than getting that puck inside the net.) That being said, you were just as scared as him when it comes to dealing with where your relationship with him was headed. Or if it was even headed somewhere.

“I know you would never do anything and I trust you. It’s just that– I can’t help it. It bothers me.” He confesses. The man of the ice that everyone has looked up to crumbles before your eyes— and all that because you kissed a friend goodbye. 

You giggle at the sight of a jealous Crosby unravelling before you. You wrap him in your arms whilst he buries his face on the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent, savoring it as much as he could.

“You’re so cute.” You tell him the moment you break off the hug. A wide smile printed on his now reddened face, quite smitten and shy to be put under your gaze.

As you inevitably drown in his scent whilst he cages you in his embrace, the next words slipped off your tongue as fast as it recoils your way the moment you heard it yourself. “You know I love you, right?” 

To say that you were nervous was an understatement. Horrified would not even suffice what you felt the moment your eyes locked with Sidney’s. His dark round irises looked through yours as if he knew what’s going on inside your head. If only you could move past this and save it for another fight, but you know you couldn’t. Not when his arms were still wrapped around your middle. Thus, for lack of a better term: you’re screwed. 

You were frozen to your feet at your sudden profession. Sidney, albeit having dreamt of this moment, was just as startled as you, feeling his throat dry whilst he tries to utter the right words. Both of your rapid and yet seemingly still breathing serves as the only constant exchange between your bodies.

Finally, Sidney gathers himself and speaks, “Now I do.” 

Before you could even break a smile, Sidney’s lips was what welcomed yours in an instant. The urgency and desire overflowing with every move his lips make as if to drown you deep in the pool of his voracious thirst, letting you know that what you had just told him is exactly what he’s been feeling towards you. Perhaps, even more. 

“You love me.” He breathes, both your teeth clashing just as you both gasp for air, perceptibly choosing to deluge yourselves in each other’s kisses than to take even just a second to catch your breaths. You take all might you still have left and nod your head, you’re hasty at how his kisses felt more than enough to tell you he felt just the same. 

Once you caught up with his pace, Sidney finds support by pinning you up against the giant mirror. His hands, roaming on the hem of your skirt before pulling it up just above the middle of your thigh. His hand then moves to your back, pushing his body closer to yours. He breaks away from your lips just so he could make his way onto your jawline and down to your neck, leaving sloppy and wet kisses in every corner he could get into. 

Without a word, Sidney takes you in his arms, busying himself with your lips yet again. Your arms wrap around his nape just as he makes his way towards the king sized bed. 

Once the bed is beneath the two of you, he carefully lays you down, letting his physique tower all over your body. The sight of your half-nakedness burns before his eyes— sending shivers on his skin, the fervent wanting to have you all out for him and him alone circles his now empty mind. Empty, being that there was nothing else cruising it other than the thought of having you take him through and through.

You watch him take off the shirt that mirrored the color of his irises, revealing his strong athletic built. Your eyes travelled from his flushed torso, down to his well-sculpted abs, before finally settling onto the thickness of his jeans that was hindering you from seeing his bulging member. Sidney lets you take him all in, his eyes grim and filled with lust once it meets yours. Not long after, clearly not needing to mutter any word, he dives on top of you, claiming your lips as if to seal a dance that ought to fuel the burning desire kindling in your veins with every touch he floors you with. 

You have gotten used to how Sidney takes you in the bedroom. Slow and steady at first, clearly holding himself back from all unimaginable pains and pleasures you know he would take no second guesses inflicting on you. This time, however, the only thing he wanted was to give you all that he has to offer. You two have always connected in ways more than just for the sake of satisfying each other in the bedroom. Or occasionally, in the passenger seat. Nonetheless, every kiss and every touch he leaves you with wasn’t meant to send you such insinuations. This time, what Sidney wanted from you was to be his alone. All for him— just like what you have told him. 

You know I love you, right?

The two of you gasp for air, evidently aroused by your deep desire to claim each other. Sidney’s fingers found your neck as his lips sought resort on your clavicle, leaving marks all over your skin just as his free hand went to unclasp your bra.

Once your breasts are out of the only material covering it,  Sidney assures no second is spared as he takes one bud into his mouth, letting himself feel your muffled moans through the vibration on your neck, resulting in him tightening his grasped onto it just before letting go so his hand could tend to your other bosom.

His kisses then moved to the center of your body, enough to make you arch your back for him, meeting him in between whilst his hand got busy with discarding all the remaining material that has irkingly caged the part of you he certainly needed most. Sid’s hands grazed every line, every curve, and every inch of your nakedness. 

You feel the firmness of his skin graze from where your neck meets your shoulder, to the skin parting your breasts, down to your stomach before stopping onto the hem of the last undergarment you were wearing. You watch him savour the sight of your black work underwear, the undeniable truth of Sidney wanting to rip it all off exuding off his demeanor. Nonetheless, he stopped himself, trying to sustain his breathing and keep his mind straight.

“Sid…” You moan under his touches.

As an effort to make things easier for Crosby, you part your legs voluntarily, giving him all access to the thin fabric covering your now throbbing core. And just like that, once he sees your moistness through your laces, a muffled groan escapes his lips, making him grip onto your thigh all the more tighter than he already did. 

Sidney throws himself on top of you just so he could kiss you once more. His lips moving slowly as he stops to take the sheer material of your panties in his mouth, getting a whiff of your now damped sex whilst his eyes were pinned on yours, savouring how you sheepishly return his gaze; visibly still shy to be put under his sole attention. Despite that, you watched him strip the clothing off. You lightly push your back upwards so he could get it under the curve of your ass before he finally succeeds in letting it slide down your smooth skin, the material falling onto the floor like the rest of your clothes.

Full, wet kisses was what welcomed your body next. It was gentle— yet firm as Sidney presses his lips onto your thigh, his hand lightly grazing the other in an upward motion. Your hand finds Sidney’s hair once he’s knelt in his desired position. He feels you tugging his head onto your center, silently pleading what you have been wanting him to do the moment he laid a hand on you. 

He hushes at his needy pup, “We have all night, my love.”

Sidney returns his attention back to your inner thigh with a smug grin. He makes sure to place whole kisses to every corner but your core, leaving you wanting, aching and more.

His breathing didn’t do much help either. It made the yearning much worse as Sidney’s touch becomes so addicting that you find yourself fighting for more than what he could give. 

Thankfully, Sid finally obliged. 

He takes pleasure in getting a whiff of your scent. Overwhelming his senses, sending jolts of adrenaline up his spine. He wanted to take you right then and there. Only taking you whole wasn’t the only thing he had in mind. He wanted to own you— mark you. Even if it meant having to do it all night so no one else would be worthy enough to even dare to share a bed with you.

One single stroke sent you to madness. The tip of Sidney’s nose, already doing wonders you’ve never once imagined. “Sid, please.” You beg in a muffled whimper. To which he only reciprocated with pressing his lips on top of your slit, humming. Not long after he takes his tongue out and lets himself taste your wetness. 

Your fingers weave through his midnight colored hair, pulling him closer as he stuck his tongue inside you, the humming he occasionally makes sends overwhelming pleasure through your walls. As your endless moans and whimper covered the room sinfully, Sidney pushed his fingers inside your center. Letting himself bask in your warmth, curling it so he could finally fuck you while he endowed himself with the treat that is: eating your cunt. 

As you mount your high by grinding your hips against Sidney’s lips, his name was the constant thing you utter— almost as if it was a prayer for the gods responsible for having such a man kneel down before you; taking all you could give him with every mouthful of liquid dripping out from your now tightening and pulsating sex. 

You were close to your high upon the continuity of Sid’s teasing strokes, switching from circling his tongue on your bud to the nibbling he does that surely floods you with ecstasy. Sidney knew you were close, so the only thing he did was to keep going, curling his fingers inside you as he keeps hitting the right spot over and over again— and once he feels your pussy throb in his mouth, he positions himself down on your opening just so he could take all of your juices, his arm wrapped around your hips to secure his wedged head in between your thighs, making you squirm and yell all the words you could even utter, your fingers sinking onto his duvet sheets.

Sidney takes his fingers out of your already spent pussy, fixated on watching your heaving chest, breasts spread out beautifully for him whilst you still drown in the bliss of meeting your high. He then takes both fingers into his mouth, sucking all that’s left of you on his skin, your distinct taste waking up the beast in him. 

Sidney was eager to spend the night worshiping you. To give you the love and affection you deserved even when he still feels like he’s no good for you. All he wanted to do was to prove himself to you. Not just as someone who would gladly concede before your needs, but as someone who’s worthy enough to spend what remains of your waking days regardless of it being good or bad.

No matter the circumstances. No matter the highs and lows. Sidney wanted to be the one holding your hand through it all. He was ready, and willing to give it all up if that meant having a chance at a life spent with you. He wanted nothing else but you alone. 

The odds must have taken his side for when Sidney looked into your eyes, he knew you wanted the same thing too.

Before Sidney could hover back on top of you, you were quick to pull yourself up which startled him for a bit, clueless as to why you were getting up not until he met the suggestive look on your face whilst you crawl your way towards the end of the bed. 

Your hands find their way to the thick fabric of his jeans, teasingly creeping up to his belt buckle without breaking your gaze off of him. He doesn’t say a word and lets you do what you do best. He watches you work your way through, the sound of the cold metal on your hand echoes in your ears as it further builds up the anticipation of finally getting your hands on Sidney.

He helps you get his pants off and once it was on the floor with the rest of your clothes, his hands then take rest holding your hair, gathering it all in his fist whilst you busied yourself by stroking his far too hardened dick along with the pre-cum that’s already dripping on its tip. 

Sidney’s flushed chest heaves the moment you take the head of his cock in your mouth; looking up at him as you continue teasing his end, licking off what remains of his pre-cum. You take time just like what he did a while back, ensuring that no part of him was left untouched by your lips— that his massive build will be taken by your mouth down to the very last inch. 

“Fuck.” He groans, his grasp on your hair tightening as he pushes his length further into your throat. 

Nothing but sloppy and wet noises of your mouth taking Sidney whole was what can be heard in the room. Every moan that slips off Sidney’s tongue makes you feel alive more than ever before. The muffled praises he gives you whilst he watches you devour him whole was all that ran in your head. The beads of sweat on his temple, the hoarseness of his voice, and the way his Adam's apple moves the closer he feels he is to coming signaled you to continue whatever it was you were doing not until seconds after you take his hardened balls into your mouth. 

“Baby, no.” He didn’t want to but it is what he had to do. He pulled himself off of you when you started sucking on his balls. Your tongue was doing too much with the build up thickening in his region. He didn’t want to spoil the evening by cumming sooner that he intended. The night was still young and if he’d let you devour him all the way, he knew he only had seconds left before he fails in stopping himself from cumming all over your face. 

You shot him a puzzled look and quickly rose to meet his eyes, “Why? Is there something wrong?” 

He breathes, taking both his hands on your shoulder, steadying you under his softened gaze. “Nothing. It’s just- I don’t wanna cum yet.” He sheepishly admits, enough to make you bite a smile and rest your head on his chest. 

You whisper an assuring “Okay.” and wrap your arms around his nape to lock him in another kiss. His rough hands grazed your naked body so beautifully. Tucking some of your hair at the back of your ear before travelling down the line your back as it finally takes rest on your butt, the other brushing on your nipple first before it goes down just below your breasts and your waist, pulling you closer to him.

Sidney tread to the corner of your lips as he lightly presses small kisses, working his way down from your jaw line onto the crook of your neck before finally settling down on sucking onto your clavicle. Once he breaks away, you both look deep into each other’s eyes, completely enthralled and enamoured to be in each other’s embrace, drowning in what seems to be the night you’ll never forget. 

“I love you.” He professes, the words finally leaving his chest out for you to hear. 

You always thought you’d smile when you hear it but you just didn’t. You were happy, sure. But for once, throughout the time you’ve spent in Sidney’s arms, whether in bed or not, you were so sure that none of the scenarios you’ve played in your head endlessly came off as right as caging him in your hold, sealing his words with a much needed passionate kiss. Pretty much like how he did when you’d told him the exact words you needed to hear moments ago back in his closet.

Sidney brushes his thumb on your cheeks and looks deep into your eyes once you break off, “What do you want me to do, y/n?” he asks, voice husk and yearning.

Without even giving it much thought, you chase Sidney’s lips and let out words enveloped with the same wanting and desire he had already been feeling from months on end, “Take me, Sid.” was the only thing you tell him. “I only want you.” 

Sidney wasted no second and claimed you with his lips once again. This time, lustful and needy— like the kind of kiss that takes your mind off where you actually are but not so much as to let you fly far off his reach so he ensured keeping you close to his skin whilst the two of you basked in a much heated kiss. 

His hands squeezed every inch of your skin he could find and with just one swift motion, Sidney props your legs around his waist as he finally takes you down the bed, allowing you to feel him in your middle, hard and heavy for your core. 

“I’ll go get the rubber.” He says, aiming for the bedside table instantly but you lightly grabbed his nape and planted a kiss on top of his nose, “No, don’t. I want to feel you.” 

“Are you sure?” He asks you, concern evident in his eyes. It’s not like you needed him to have it anyway. You were safe after having met with your gynecologist for an appointment a week ago. You give him an encouraging nod and smile, taking his lips as an answer. 

Sidney gladly does what was asked of him and delivered. His mouth travels from your chin before nestlin’ down one of your buds just as his hands roamed your body before landing on your thigh, positioning himself in front of your entrance. 

Sidney hovers back on top of you, meeting your lips yet again, finally thrusting inside you. Your walls overwhelming his senses in a snap as you choke his thick length, making the two of you gasp in between each other’s mouths. 

“Sidney, please.”  you beg underneath his weight. He pulls out just to push back slowly, easing himself through your tight walls. “Always so fucking tight for me, eh?” 

He rests an arm just above your head the other entwined with your fingers, sinking both your bodies in his sheets once his thrusts progressed at a pace both your bodies exactly needed. 

Your wails went in sync with Sidney’s antagonizing groans. Admittedly not helping you straighten your mind for it did nothing but worsen your hunger to have him. He rests his forehead on yours, sharing beads of sweat whilst he continues to pump himself through you. In and out, just like you need him to. 

As he further himself inside you, hitting your end over and over again right on the very spot that only shows how much he knows you and your body and how you communicate with him without having to say a word other than your moans and his name leaving your lips as a curse. 

Your fingers ran and dug on his back the closer you feel yourself reaching your own high. Your eyes swell with tears, overwhelmed with the feeling Sidney has been pouring you all night with. Letting his touches resonate within you, sending you a well-received message of how much you mean to him. Perhaps, more than you will ever know. 

You were it. And for once in his life, after all the years he’s spent alone; nights spent with his arms wrapped around the wrong people, he finally found someone that was able to make him feel so much more than he thought he could ever do.

“I’m coming.” You breathed out just as you finally let yourself collapse beneath him. Your legs shaking with ecstasy whilst you let Sidney pump himself inside you faster now that he feels nothing but your throbbing walls retching him whole. 

“God, y/n.” He grunts, biting his lower lip as you feel his body tensed up, his jaw clenching, and his biceps filling your palm like stones.

“Come for me, baby.” You pant, meeting his gaze before he shuts his eyes once he finally lets go and fill your walls with all of his juices, coating it all and letting it sit as he lets his body collapse on top of you. 

You let out a small laugh at how flushed and hot his cheeks were once he buries himself on the side of your head. You sweetly plant a kiss on his cheeks and he meets your irises with a gentle gaze. 

He makes his way down shortly, pecking on your shoulder before pulling himself up again to release his shaft from your core. 

“Wait for me, okay?” He says at once, savoring how his cum spills from your lips, fashioning your slit with a sight that only leaves Sidney wanting for more. 

Nonetheless, he knew you were tired. He strut his way back to the master bath to get a warm cloth that ought to clean you up. You, on the other hand, propped yourself up, letting your weight sit on both your arms as you admire the scenery of Sidney Crosby’s ass. 

He walks back towards you with a smile, his face glowing with the post-sex rush, holding a white gentle cloth that ended cleaning you down your clit, making you gasp instantly upon contact. 

Sidney then throws the cloth with the pile of mess you won’t bother cleaning up until morning. Once he was settled with you in bed, he takes you in his arms with the same gentleness he’s never failed to give you whenever you’re in his embrace. You rest your head on his arm, your hand safely placed atop his chest, content and satisfied in each other’s presence.

Now with both of your breathing settled and steady, exhaustion slowly catching on, Sidney places a soft kiss on your temple as you bask in each other’s arms, finally letting yourselves drift off to sleep.

#sidney crosby #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby smut #hockey smut #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl smut #nhl fanfiction #nhl fic #hockey fic #letters to crosby #barzzal imagines

[laurenairay]

What Love Feels Like - S. Crosby

Summary: your boyfriend Sidney, the surprise romantic?

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: established relationship fluff, cheesy romance, essentially a 4+1

A/N: I’ve been in an absolute writing rut since before Christmas, so I just want to thank @danglesnipecelly​ for reminding me how much I love soft sexy sid 😘 also, how have I never written for him before?!

~

No-one ever said dating Sidney Crosby was going to be easy.

They also didn’t say how much of a romantic he was either.

It was like at every turn, he had a new way to make your heart beat a little faster, to make you face heat up warm, to make your stomach fill with butterflies. Whether it was buying your favourite sweet treats as a pick me up, or the kisses that would leave you breathless in passing, or even the way his tongue flicked at your bare body just right, Sidney always kept you on your toes.

But it was his words that affected you the most.

You hadn’t expected much verbal affection from him at the beginning of your relationship, the rumours of his hockey robot status the main thing you knew about him – but you were quickly proved wrong. Maybe it was the media training that kept him so hockey-bland in interviews, because the minute he wasn’t in hockey mode, he immediately turned sweet, suave and so sexy. And it wasn’t just flirting talk, to prelude to sex (although the first time he murmured all the things he wanted to do with you after the team event you were at, you almost lost your mind then and there) – it was the sweet loving statements that sent your heart pounding.

How could you ever have known about his way with words?

*

Today had been a stressful one. Work had been full-on without any warning, and you were just about done with people. You’d even hesitated when Sidney offered to cook you dinner at his house – but eventually the temptation of being pampered by your boyfriend had been too good to resist. Maybe he’d be able to turn your day around. It couldn’t hurt to try, right?

And as you suspected, Sidney had taken one look at the exhaustion on your face and ushered you to the sofa, only disappearing to come back with a large glass of wine for you.

“You are an absolute gem,” you groaned, tilting your head back to look up at him.

He just grinned, taking the silent cue for what it was and leaning down to kiss you gently. Yes, this was just what you needed.

And the evening had only gotten better from there. Sidney had made the two of you a simple but delicious coq au vin dinner (the recipe definitely came from Vero Fleury, and you knew that you would definitely need to text her your thanks later), followed by a chocolate tart that you swore was the best thing you’d ever tasted (that one was from a local bakery, and you knew it wouldn’t be the last time you’d get something from there now!). And all throughout the evening, Sidney had kept the conversation flowing, telling you hilarious stories of grumpy Geno and naïve rookies from the recent road trip he’d had, as well as about the cute dog that his neighbour had recently adopted, and you felt yourself relaxing more with each passing moment.

Sidney had indeed turned your day around just like you’d hoped.

After eating, Sidney had insisted on clearing the plates by himself, making you roll your eyes fondly but accept a gentle kiss as he walked past. You could at least get the two of you a fresh glass of wine each. You were tired, not incapable. So with that in mind, you picked up the two empty wine glasses and followed your boyfriend into the kitchen, opening the fridge to pick out the open bottle of white wine he’d opened earlier.

But just as you finished filling the glasses, you felt a pair of arms slide around you from behind, making you jump slightly, earning a soft laugh.

“Menace,” you complained fondly, putting the wine bottle down on the side.

“Couldn’t help myself, I needed you in my arms,” Sidney said simply, squeezing you in a little hug.

You leant back into his chest, smiling to yourself. How could you say no to that? The two of you stayed silent for a few more moments, just enjoying the comfort of this embrace, until Sidney sighed softly.

“You make me want things I didn’t think I could have,” Sidney murmured, pressing a kiss to your shoulder.

What the hell?

You spun around in his arms straight away, the frown on your face making Sidney laugh softly.

“What things? And who says you can’t have them?” you demanded.

“Always so protective,” he mused.

You batted at his chest, rolling your eyes. “I’m serious Sid! What do you mean, things you can’t have?”

He bit his bottom lip, making your frustration soften a little. This was something he’d really thought about, wasn’t it?

“I just…I never expected to find someone while I was still playing hockey,” Sidney started.

What the hell? He was just going to wait, until he eventually retired? What?! But as you opened your mouth to protest, Sidney pressed a finger to your lips, a fond smile on his.

“No, I know what I’m like. My routines are so set in stone, I’m away so often, I have so many more responsibilities as Captain and well, just because I’m me. I was told from a young age that anything other than hockey was a distraction. So I just…shelved the idea. Didn’t even let myself hope,” Sidney explained.

“Sid…that’s so sad,” you said softly, clutching at his sweater with both hands, “to just resign yourself to being lonely, I can’t…”

“Hey, it’s okay. I can’t say it hasn’t paid off with hockey,” he mused, “and besides…I met you, didn’t I?”

You bit your lip, your face heating up warm, Sidney’s hand rising to run a knowing thumb over your cheek.

“So I wasn’t a distraction?” you asked hopefully.

“Oh, you absolutely were,” Sidney said, laughing softly, making your heart sink a little. He saw your hesitant expression, and shook his head. “It was a distraction that I didn’t know I needed. You help me break out of my intensity, to separate the rink from home. Without you, I would just eat, breathe, sleep hockey, and meeting you made me realise that I can have hockey and love. You give me a reason to live, and I couldn’t be more grateful for that,”

You couldn’t stop the tears that sprung to your eyes, nor the smile that spread across your lips. “Sidney…” you murmured helplessly.

“Thank you. For making me whole. For making me a better person,” he said seriously, hand still cupping your face so you couldn’t do anything but look into his eyes.

Your heart clenched at his words, and there was nothing you could think of to say that needed to be added. So you just lifted your head and pressed your lips to his in a kiss that said everything.

*

A good run of games, with far more wins than losses, always put your boyfriend in a good mood. So good, that after the latest game, which was another win where he’d gotten 2 goals and 1 assist, he’d even suggested going out for drinks. You were more than happy to agree – not that you didn’t love your evenings in with him, but sometimes it was nice to go out and try something new, y’know? These plans quickly turned into a couples’ drinks with Kris and Catherine, and Geno and Anna, and the six of you ended up in a private booth in a fancy cocktail bar.

You’d immediately ordered some lethal manhattan cocktails with Anna and Cath, leaving the guys to their own devices as the three of you toasted to the success of the men in your lives. As you surveyed the bar around you, you felt yourself relax a little. This was exactly you needed, with exactly these people. These two women had welcomed you so quickly into the Better Halves group, and you couldn’t be more excited to spend time with just them. Well, them and your rapidly tipsy partners. 

It had only taken the three men a couple of hours to be giggling messes. 

Kris, the troublemaker that he was, had indulged Sidney’s sweet tooth with so many sugary cocktails, that he was already pretty far gone, eyes glassy and skin flushed. Sure, he was going to feel it tomorrow morning, but the fact that he actually got the chance to let go, to just relax with his just closest friends? That was the most important thing.

How often did Sidney get the chance to do that?

The six of you were still in the booth, Geno having just come back with a fresh round of cocktails, and Sidney was started to lean against you a little heavier, making you frown slightly.

“Hey, are you good?” you asked softly.

Sidney leaned back to look at you properly, hair a little ruffled and his top two buttons undone, distracting you slightly.

“You’re the most beautiful thing I have ever seen…and I’ve held the Stanley Cup three times,” Sidney slurred, his lips stretched in that beautiful crooked grin.

Kris, Cath, Geno and Anna all just burst into laughter, making you laugh too.

“I’m serious! The cup is so beautiful…but you, you are the most,” Sidney said firmly.

“He’s serious,” Kris snickered, “crisse Sid, what a romantic,”

The sarcasm just made Sidney pout. Bless him.

“Okay I think it’s time for some water,” you giggled.

“Oh no please, let him carry on. It’s been so long since drunk Sid made an appearance,” Kris grinned.

“Drunk Sid is most fun!” Geno added, nodding enthusiastically.

You looked back at your boyfriend to see him still smiling at you like the sun, and you couldn’t stop the butterflies erupting in your stomach. How were you supposed to react, when he looked at you so brilliantly? You didn’t have to look at Cath or Anna to know that they were smiling fondly at you – you’d had enough wine nights with them to know how sweet they thought Sidney was with you.

“He may be fun now, but he’s going to be an absolute grump tomorrow and you know it,” you mused, shaking your head.

“Won’t be grumpy,” Sidney insisted.

Oh jeez. “Yes you will,” you teased, “But you’re cute, so I’ll let it slide,”

“You think I’m cute?” Sidney said happily, before looking at his teammates, “she think I’m cute!”

That just sent Kris and Geno into fits of laughter again, making you sigh fondly. Oh he was definitely going to feel this tomorrow.

Worth it though.

*

The summer brought you back to Nova Scotia with Sidney. Well, you’d taken two weeks off work in August to be able to spend Sidney’s birthday with him, but you were so glad you did. Spending some proper time with his parents and with Taylor was so worth it, and you didn’t miss the little smiles he sent your way when he thought you weren’t looking – Sidney loved you being home with him just as much as you loved it.

The best part though, was definitely waking up to that sleepy morning sunlight, the lake only a stone’s throw away, Sidney warm and content and at peace. 

“Mm happy birthday Sid,” you murmured sleepily, curling further into his body.

“Shh, if my body doesn’t know that I’m getting older then I won’t get any more grey hairs,” Sidney groaned, not opening his eyes.

You just giggled, running a hand over his bare chest. What a drama queen.

“I’m pretty sure it doesn’t work like that, baby,” you teased, “you know I like your grey hair, the little grey of it that there is,”

What? You did!

Sidney lifted his head to look down at you incredulously. Of course that was what made him wake up properly.

“You like it?” he frowned.

“It makes you look…distinguished. It’s…sexy,” you shrugged. There was no reason to lie to him after all.

“Sexy?” he laughed, rolling his eyes.

Oh now that wouldn’t do. You slotted your leg between his thighs, moving to hover him slightly where he was lying on his back, waiting until he was looking at you properly. He swallowed heavily at the seriousness in your expression. Good.

“Yeah, Sid. It’s sexy,” you said softly, “you’re sexy. Clearly I need to tell you that more often,”

Sidney’s tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip, his eyes never leaving yours as he processed your words.

“If I’m so sexy, then why haven’t you kissed me yet?”

The desire in his voice sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn’t help but to grin. You leant your head down to kiss him softly, leaning up on your elbow for a better angle. Sidney groaned softly at the sweet kiss, one hand sliding into your hair with the other resting on your waist. You kept the kiss slow, gentle, intense, with only light brushes of your tongue, taking your time to enjoy yourself. You loved early mornings like this, when it was just the two of you with nothing to do for hours, and today you had nowhere to be until well into the afternoon, so you were going to indulge yourself with these kisses while you could.

Eventually you broke away, lips feeling as swollen as Sidney’s looked. Wow.

“Is that better?” you mused, stroking the hair at his template.

“Hmm, I don’t know. That’s all I get?” he murmured, “on my birthday?”

Tease. You licked your bottom lip, Sidney’s eyes flashing darker, and you rolled off of him, tugging your sleep-top over your head and lying down sultrily on your back. Sidney’s eyes immediately fell to your bare chest, yours flicking down to the hard line of his cock in his boxers, before you grinned.

“Get over here birthday boy…” you purred.

Sidney didn’t waste another second.

*

Sometimes things weren’t perfect. Sometimes Sidney had a string of bad games where he got too much into his own head. Sometimes he wouldn’t communicate in any more than a couple of words or grunts. Sometimes you had to prioritise a work deadline over time with him. Sometimes things between the two of you were extremely tense until one (or most often, both) of you cracked and talked it out.

But that’s what made your relationship work – the talking. Being with Sidney meant being in such a mature adult relationship, and it was refreshing to be able to work through things with a guy that wasn’t just going to fly off the handle or sulk around. Sure, Sidney had his faults, but he always tried not to take his frustrations out on you. You knew that the highs of dating a hockey superstar came with the lows too – you knew that when you agreed to go on that very first date way back when, but he’d proved time and time again that he was worth it. He was always worth it.

Right now, Sidney…no, the Penguins had been on a bad luck streak, and you could see the pressure piling up on your boyfriend, from management, from the press, from the fans, from himself. But not from you. There was no way you were going to add to his stress, not when he needed your support more than anything.

And you knew he appreciated more than anything else.

Like today, for example.

Sidney had turned up at your apartment a couple of hours earlier than you thought, having come straight from the airport rather than going to his house first, just looking bone-tired. So you’d immediately drawn him a bath with your favourite lavender-vanilla bath bubbles, Sidney insisting that you join him too.

Well, you weren’t going to deny him that.

So that’s where the two of you were now, you lying between Sidney’s legs, your back leaning against his chest, your hands clutching at his forearms where his arms were wrapped around you.

“Thank you,” he said quietly.

You just smiled softly, tilting your head back to press a kiss to his jaw before leaning into him again.

“I’m just sorry we’re doing this in my shitty apartment rather than your lovely bathroom,” you shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter whether we’re at your place or mine. You’ve always felt like home,” Sidney murmured.

Oh god, if your heart could be any more full it would be. Wow.

“I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else,” you said softly, not wanting to break the moment, “I’ll always be here for you,”

Sidney smiled into your neck, pressing the lightest of kisses into your skin, making you shiver despite the temperate of the water.

“I mean it, you are my home and I couldn’t be more grateful. You’ve shown me what love feels like, sweetheart,” Sidney murmured, “I love you,”

You tried desperately to blink away the tears that sprung to your eyes, squeezing his hands. “I love you too Sid. So much,” you whispered.

As his arms held you a little tighter and he buried his face in your neck a little more, you knew there was nowhere else you would rather be.

*

Another morning, another day waking up in Sidney’s arms. No matter how many roadtrips he went on, countless by the point, it still felt weird sleeping in your own bed without him. Your apartment felt cold, felt empty, despite it holding all your possessions, but you knew that was just because it didn’t have him in it. When he was home in Pittsburgh, whether it was in your apartment or at his house, you had never slept better than when you were with him. You could only hope he felt the same.

“Good morning,” Sidney said softly, breaking you out of your thoughts.

“Good morning,” you replied, smiling up at him.

He smiled back, leaning over to press a few gentle kisses to your lips before leaning back.

“That was a real serious face you had a moment ago,” Sidney said, lying on his side with his head propped up with his hand.

Busted. “I was just thinking,” you shrugged.

“What are you thinking about?” he mused.

“Nothing much. Just…”

You trailed off, biting your bottom lip. Sidney’s hand slid to cup your face, his thumb brushing over your trapped lip until you let it free.

“Just…” he prompted.

“I could get used to waking up beside you,” you blurted,

Sidney’s face looked a little stunned. Damn it. Was that too much?

But then his face shifted into the biggest smile you’d ever seen, making your hopeful heart beat a little faster.

“Why don’t we make that a reality?”

W-What?

Sidney saw the confusion in your expression and hesitated, before turning and reaching into the bedside drawer beside him. He paused slightly, as he grabbed whatever it was, making your heart beat a little faster. What was going on? But after a couple of beats, he rolled back over to face you, hand clenched in a fist.

“Move in with me?” he murmured.

He opened his fist, revealing a shiny key, making your jaw drop a little. Oh wow.

“For real?” you whispered, eyes not moving from the key.

“Yeah, for real,” Sidney mused, although you could hear the strain of nerves in his voice, “I would really love for this to be your home too. You already have a ton of your clothes here as well as make-up and your shower stuff…so why don’t we make this full time?”

You choked out a laugh – he did have a point there.

But was it too soon?

No.

“If it makes a difference, I’ve wanted to ask you for months,” Sidney admitted.

“You have?” you asked, surprised.

“Yeah, sweetheart. You’re it for me,” he said simply.

He really did have such a way with words.

“I would love to, Sid,” you said softly.

“Yeah?” he grinned,

“Yeah. I want to build this life with you. So let’s do this,” you nodded.

Sidney whooped, making you giggle, and he dropped the key into the bedsheets in favour of pressing a deep kiss to your lips. Yeah, you could get used to this.

#my writing #sidney crosby #i love soft sexy sid so much #i want this SO bad #sidney crosby fic #sidney crosby fanfiction #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby x reader #hockey writing #hockey fic #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #nhl writing #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #4+1

[texanstarslove]

everything you want, everything you need

GIF credit goes to @rinkrats and this post.

A/N: @danglesnipecelly and I were having a fit over Sid and just how amazing he’s been looking here lately...thus this blurb was born. It’s not a big production or anything, just a soft little thought I shared with K and thought all of you may enjoy. Also Happy 1,000th game to the beautiful man himself. 💚

Warnings: Nothing but some softness.

Word Count: ~1.3k

Tagging: @barriesweet, @princessphilly, @denis-scorianov, @laurenairay, @falloutblaine

You love everything about him. There isn’t a single thing you would ever change. You love his energy, his drive, his determination.

His passion.

It was his passion that attracted you to him in the first place. The passion he has for the sport he plays inspires you. The commitment he has to being his absolute best and never complaining about the inconveniences or hardships that come with it is something you have always admired. His passion for his family and friends and their well-being and happiness warmed your heart. He always goes out his way to make those around him happy and that too inspired you to try and do the same. You knew from the moment you met him that whenever he latched onto something or someone, he would give 100% of himself and nothing less. He constantly pushes not only himself to do his absolute best but encourages those around him to do the same, loving when the people he cares for are successful and happy.

It’s that constant push, the encouragement to be your best that makes your relationship with him work so well. He is always open and honest with you, making it easy for you to be the same with him. Sure, there are the occasional disagreements and arguments that come with any relationship but what makes those disagreements and arguments easier to handle is the ability for you to both sit and talk things through rationally and openly, and honestly, and for that you were thankful.

While you were thankful for the big things that make your relationship run smoothly and maturely, you’re also thankful for all the little nuances that come with any relationship. All the little things that make your relationship special and uniquely your own. You were thankful for the little kiss on the forehead you receive every time he comes home. You were thankful for the way he seemingly knew how you were feeling at any given moment, holding you close or giving you space, whatever the moment may lend itself to. You were thankful for the way he held your hand, his thumb sweeping across your knuckles soothingly, the way he looks at you and smiles that big, broad genuine smile where his whole face squinches up, and the way your name sounds rolling off his tongue. All the little things add up to something truly spectacular and you were thankful for them all.

You’re absolute favorite thing about being with him, however, is just like this, waking up next to him every morning. You get to see him in the most authentic and vulnerable way, something you cherish with every fiber of your being. There is just something about the way his face looks as he sleeps, so peaceful and serene that warms your heart no matter how many times you see it. The way his hair, now speckled with greys that he may or may not be self-conscious about, looks wild and unkempt yet frames his face perfectly as he snores softly beside you. It brings a smile to your face and you can’t help but bring a hand up and gently run your fingers through the soft curls that sit atop his head. When your hand comes back down to his face, gently cupping his cheek and running your thumb along his skin, he begins to stir awake. He hums softly in satisfaction and brings his hand up to gently take your wrist in his fingers, twisting his head to press a gentle kiss to your palm. You giggle softly as his kisses begin to trail to your wrist and then up your forearm as he pulls you close to his bare chest and presses a soft kiss to your lips. 

“Good morning, beautiful.” His voice is still laced with sleep, his eyes finally opening ever so slightly as that small little sideways smirk spreads across his face. Yet another one of your favorite things is how he looks right after he wakes up when the sleepy haze is still cast over his face. You whisper your morning greeting, snuggling closer to him but still maintaining eye contact. The two of you lay there for a good while, not speaking but gazing into each other’s eyes, listening to each other’s breathing. His fingers dance along your side while yours occupy themselves in his hair once more, gently scratching his scalp. If you could lay in this bed forever you were certain he’d stay with you no questions asked. You sigh softly, contently, and you feel his hand squeeze your hip.

“What are you thinking about?” He asks, his voice soft and low.

You smile up at him, placing a kiss on his jaw before replying. “You.”

A chuckle rumbles deep in his chest as he rolls you on top of him, a small yelp of surprise falling from your lips. “All good things, I hope.”

“Nope,” You cheekily reply, “All awful, terrible things. Not a single positive thought.” 

He laughs now, the same squinchy-faced one you love and adore, and teasingly pokes at your side eliciting a fit of giggles from you. You both manage to calm down and you bring your hand to his chest, resting your chin on your knuckles as you look up at him. He still has that small little smile on his face as he looks back down at you. You feel nothing but love and adoration radiating from him and you hope that you are projecting those same feelings for him to feel too. 

“I just feel so lucky,” You finally whisper.

He smiles more broadly now, one of his hands coming to your face and brushing a few strands of your hair out of your face. “Yeah?”

You nod softly, placing a kiss to his chest before looking up at him once more. “I feel so lucky and so thankful for you.”

“I should be saying that to you.” He tells you, scooting up the bed to sit up fully and maneuvering you to straddle his thighs. “I don’t know how you put up with all that comes with being with someone like me.”

“Sidney…” You murmur, your fingers tracing along his biceps, “You are the most wonderful human being I know.”

“But I know it’s not easy living this life,” He continues, “I know it isn’t ideal sometimes yet you’re still here with me. I don’t know how you do it.”

“Because of you,” You insist, your hands coming up to cup his face and looking directly into his eyes, “You make it easy to be with you for just being you. I wouldn’t want to go on a journey like this with anyone but you.”

He smiles softly at your words, leaning into you and pressing his lips to yours, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you impossibly close to his body. He sighs into the kiss, eventually pulling away and resting his forehead against yours. 

“I don’t deserve you,” He whispers, “You’re too good for me.”

“I should be saying that to you,” You reply, using his earlier statement and earning a small chuckle from him.

“Touché.”

Your fingers weave their way into his hair once more, gently pulling his head back to look at him directly. “I love you.”

“And I love you,” He replies, “More than words can accurately describe.”

You lean forward to rest your head against his chest once more, savoring the feeling of his body against yours for just a little while longer.

#my writing #sidney crosby #pittsburg penguins #sidney crosby imagine #sidney crosby blurb #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #hockey fanfiction #nhl fanfiction

[adorethedistance]

READING MY BOYFRIEND’S FANFICTION?? - Owen Joyner x Influencer!Reader

JATP masterlist

Requested: OMGGG!! Could you do a an Owen fic based around his girlfriend being an armature youtuber/social media influencer (shes also an actress and they met on set and have been dating for a while) and it’s “reading/reacting to my boyfriend’s fanfiction” ? You can do whatever you want with the fanfic part it’s just a concept that has been running around in my head for a while. LOVE ALL YOUR WORK!!

Warnings: swearing, allusions to sex, very mild

Words: 1460

A/N: A fic?? From Ace?? Hi. I’m off spring break officially and so my stress has dissipated immensely. School was becoming so much these last two weeks and I thought I’d be stressed or worried, but I’m actually fine? It’s weird lol so I decided I could be productive with my stress-free moment and post a little fic for y’all. I love this prompt, and before any of you writers panic, I’m using my own fics for the fanfictions because I wouldn’t want to put y’all on the spot like that. Also this is my 3000 post! thought that was cool lol

“Do you wanna do the intro?”

“I think I have to do the intro.”

“Okay, go for it.”

“Alright,” Owen sighs out a heavy breath in exaggerated preparation for my (some would say lengthy) intro. “Hello, hi. Yes, okay, this is Y/n Y/l/n vlogs, welcome or welcome back to my channel!” Once Owen finishes his statement I’m so stunned I can’t generate any sort of response other than a slacked jaw semi smile.

“That was not even close. Do you know my intro?”

“I got the first part right!”

“You’ve lost intro privileges,” I turn back to the mess of lights and tripods in front of me and ignore the disaster of an intro Owen offered. “Oh, hello, hi! I am Y/n and this is: Reading My Boyfriend’s Fanfiction!”

“That’s basically what I did.”

“No, it is not! It’s ‘oh, hello, hi. I am ‘name’ and this is: ‘title of video’.”

“You don’t ‘welcome to my channel’?” Owen’s voice has dropped to a hushed volume as he genuinely inquires about the segments of my usual introduction.

“I do not.”

“Don’t use any of this,” he pleads when making direct eye contact with the camera. “Mister Sid. Editing Sid, please don’t embarrass me.” His pleas fall on deaf ears, knowing that I’ll be using the footage in full.

“Anyways. Butchered intro aside, I am Y/n and today I am here with my lovely “So Many Stars” costar and scene partner, Owen Joyner!”

“I’m also your boyfriend.”

“That too,” I give Owen’s pointed comment a soft place to land, “So, yesterday--it was actually like, two weeks ago, I don’t know why I said yesterday--a little while back, I came across a tweet telling me someone had written a fanfic about us-”

“Did you read it?”

“On Wattpad. Of course, I read it. There are only three chapters up right now and they’re all in the 2-3k range so it was a quick read.”

“2-3k?”

“Words,” I reply nonchalantly as I unlock my phone. I bookmarked a few one-shots beforehand for us to read, and I’m slightly cocky about my selections. Owen then responds with an outburst of shock.

“2-3 thousand words is a short read?” I merely give him a blank stare.

“Judging by that reaction, Owen hasn’t read any fanfics in his life.”

“Is that not long to you- That’s what she said.” Owen cuts me off with his own stupid joke and I briefly sigh before answering.

“No, that isn’t long. Baby, I’m here for that 130k slow burn enemies to lovers on AO3 with the ‘only one bed’ and ‘locked in a closet’ tropes.”

“The what?”

“Oh, we have so much to catch you up on.”

__________________________

“So I saved three fics, an angst, a fluff, and a smut. Which do you want to read?”

“Wait, what does that mean?”

“Oh my- okay. Angst is the sad shit, it’s what you read when you need your heartbroken and a good cry. Smut is pretty much in the name, it’s explicit content that will undoubtedly get this video demonetized, but that’s okay because we do have a sponsor. And fluff is the cute moments, domestic and sometimes mundane romance that makes you smile like an idiot and put the device down to screech into a pillow.” Throughout my whole explanation, I can tell Owen was becoming more and more lost, so I opt to give him a few moments to collect his thoughts.

“Let’s start with the fluff just to ease into things.”

“Smart choice. This fic I have saved is called ‘Baby Fever’ and the summary says ‘you and Owen spend a day at the zoo babysitting Baby Shada, and her presence sparks conversation about adding a new presence of your very own’.”

“That sounds so ominous.”

“Here, I’ll read the narration and reader’s POV, and then you’ll read your own dialogue.” Owen nods and leans over my right shoulder to read off of my computer screen.

“You actually start the fic.”

“‘You ready, little one?’” The instantaneous actor mode Owen slips into has me howling with laughter at which he looks at me confused. My gasping for air makes Owen laugh empathetically despite still being unsure as to what’s killing me at the moment.

“Why are you laughing?!” He yells, dramatically shaking my shoulder.

“Just the way you jumped into that, I wasn’t prepared for you to turn on the acting charm. Okay, uhhhh, ‘I bite back a laugh when I hear Owen’s voice coo from the back seat’.”

The two of us go back and forth between reading the narrative, bouts of laughter, commentary on the accuracy of Owen’s character, and we finally manage to finish the 2.5k fic in about forty minutes.

“‘When he looks up from CJ’s tiny body and recognizes the familiar ‘baby fever’ look in my eyes, he smiles and utters a simple-’.”

“‘I told you so.’”

“That was cute! I like the tie-in of having us watching over Baby Shada- or, sorry, you and ‘y/n’ watching over Baby Shada.”

“They wrote me kinda funny, I don’t think I’d ever fabricate a life to make conversation with a stranger due to baby fever.” My jaw drops slightly and before Owen can respond to my reaction, I cry,

“That is such a lie!”

“What?”

“You absolutely would do something like that, are you kidding me?!”

“No, I would not!” Owen punctuates every word with the utmost offense. He has the same look in his eye as when he was proving himself to be the cleanest phantom of the three on the Sunset Drive podcast.

“You literally told the guy at Home Depot yesterday that we were buying plants for our child’s nursery!”

“Okay, that’s different-”

“How is that different? That’s the exact same thing as fanfic you!” Owen’s furrowed brow and dropped jaw are a sight to be seen as he leans away from me, bending at the waist to stare at me with defiance. I raise my eyebrows pointedly as I await a response. Instead of actually producing a response, Owen lunges forward, grabbing my waist in his hands and squeezing gently. The feeling makes me screech and gasp of laughter from surprise and also being ticklish.

“Owen! Owe-STOP, I’m gonna drop my laptop!” I manage to say through my laughter and with one final grab, he releases me from his hold. It takes a minute for my laughter to settle but once I do, the two of us are simply breathing heavy and staring at one another with giddy smiles on our faces. In a moment’s clarity, I turn to look into the camera lens to talk directly to my editor,

“Sid, don’t use any of this. And please don’t cut to this after we finish reading to make it look like- things were happening.”

“Actually, I think you should, Sid. Just cut to right there and make the world think we-”

“OKAY, thanks for watching, bye!” I quickly stop the recording before Owen says something we’re unable to recover from. I hear him laugh gently behind me as I set my laptop down on the coffee table behind the tripod. Coming back to the couch, I move to plop down but before landing successfully on the cushion next to my phone, Owen grabs my body and moves me to sit on top of him.

“You are crazy, you know that?”

“Hmm. Crazy for you, maybe.” His cheesy line makes me scoff but smile nonetheless. I reach my right hand up to caress the side of his face as we sit cheek to cheek.

“Remind me to never film with you again.” The gesture is sweet and the sentiment is not which makes Owen laugh and he presses a soft kiss to my cheek. I lean back into him so my back is pressed flush with his chest as he lazily wraps both arms around me.

“You say that now but you’ll regret it when you wanna do a ‘boyfriend does my makeup’ challenge video.”

“Nah. I’ll just call Charlie to-” Without allowing me to finish my sentence, Owen is digging his fingertips back into the tissue of my sides and I squeal with laughter once more. This time the torment is short-lived and Owen releases me after a sweet, reconciling kiss. “Do you have baby fever now?”

“It was cute and all, but not really, no.”

“That’s too bad,” I stand up from my spot on his lap to grab my computer and hold it to my chest, “I was gonna say we could practice some baby-making.”

And with that, I turned on the balls of my feet, heading for my bedroom when I heard Owen stand up eagerly, quick to follow.

***

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[atmostories]

Johnny Lawrence x Reader

Tags: Angst, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Alcohol Abuse, Depression Matter - Chapter One The first few weeks after you broke up with Johnny, you were a complete mess. Even though you had made the right decision it didn't make it any easier. The days were a vague blur, where you muddled through your daily routine without really experiencing it. You couldn't stop thinking about that night, it was the anniversary of his mother's death. You'd found him unconscious and sprawled out on the floor by the sofa. A strange sound was coming from him as his body convulsed slightly.

When you crouched down beside him, you'd realised that he was choking on his own vomit. Immediately you turned him onto his side and lifted up his chin to open his airway. He started to cough only a couple of seconds later as the vomit spewed out of his mouth.

He noisily wheezed in air, but he still didn't come to as you called out his name over and over. After accepting that he wasn't going wake up anytime soon, you wiped his face clean and laid down beside him. You tried not to shake in fear as you placed a hand on his chest to make sure he was still breathing. He'd almost died right in front of you.

You didn't sleep. You were wide awake the whole night watching over him. It wasn't until the morning when he finally woke up. His first instinct was to grab a bottle of beer on the table and down its remaining contents. When you told him what happened, he didn't even bother to apologise before downplaying the whole thing. You should have been angry, you should have told him to try to get sober, to go to therapy, to go to AA, but you'd said that all before. Every time you'd try to suggest him getting help, he'd shoot you down, saying that he didn't need any of that pussy shit and he didn't have a problem in the first place.

You just couldn't do this anymore.

After he stalked off to work, you packed up your stuff from his apartment and left. He called later that evening, asking where the fuck you were, demanding to know why your clothes were missing from the closet. You told him to meet you at a diner, it wasn't a conversation to have over the phone. You were waiting in the parking lot when he turned up. Rather than going inside, you got into the passenger seat of his Firebird.

Johnny didn't say hello, he didn't say anything for a while. He must have realised what was happening. Fuck, you really didn't want to do this. You'd been contemplating it for months, always managing to convince yourself to give him another chance, to respect that his addiction was a very complex and difficult thing.

Every day you'd worry about him, fearing that he might have gotten into a fight with someone again, panicking that he'd blackout at the wheel of his Firebird after coming home from a bar. He wasn't just putting himself at risk, but everyone he came across. You had numerous arguments with him about the drunk driving. He'd say that he hadn't had too many and he was perfectly fine to drive. He would then apologise and say he wouldn't do it anymore, and then a week later he'd do it all over again.

You knew he was a good man. That was the problem. It was buried underneath decades of shame and guilt and regret and hurt. You were not equipped to deal with it. You'd tried, you had tried so fucking hard. It had become such a burden that your own problems didn't matter, what you felt was always inconsequential.

But now what you said was going to matter.

“Look about last night,” Johnny mumbled, his fingers tapping on the steering wheel. “Things might have gotten a little out of hand. . .”

“You almost died, Johnny,” you told him numbly. He looked at you then, his eyes searing into you and making your heart ache profusely. The tears welled up in your eyes. “You almost fucking died.”

Guilt bled across his expression before he looked away. The reprieve from his gaze gave you the chance to suck in an unsteady breath. You were still for a few moments before you pulled the key to his apartment from your pocket and held it out to him.

“I can't be with you anymore.”

“What, so that's it? You're just gonna leave because of one fuck up?” He asked angrily, his arm resting on the wheel as he turned to face you. You scoffed out a curt laugh, he was unbelievable. “You think this is funny?”

“You know that's not true,” you replied calmly, not wanting to get into an argument with him. He didn't reply. You let your arm fall into your lap, not bothering to keep holding the key out for him. Rather than wait for him to take it, you opened up the dash to put it inside. Before you could put it on top of some receipts, he snatched hold of your wrist.

“That key's not on loan, I gave it to you,” he snarled, he was deeply offended by the gesture. It was an insult to reject his gift, but you knew he didn't mean just that. You were rejecting him. Staring down at his hand, you waited until he loosened his grip and let your wrist go.

“When I told you that you're always welcome, I meant it,” he spat at you. In his eyes, what you had said to him didn't matter, when you had told him you loved him you didn't really mean it. You were nothing but a worthless liar.

“I'll always care about you,” you replied, hoping that he would understand you were telling the truth.

“Bullshit. You're just like the rest of them.”

“Johnny-”

“I thought you were different, but you're gonna leave like everyone else.”

“You don't understand-”

“No I get it. You know what? Keep the key, throw it in the trash, I don't care. Just get out of my car.”

“Please I-”

“Get out!” He shouted, your body jolting at the sound of his rage. You barely managed to swallow down a sob as you scrambled to leave the car. He started up the engine as you closed the door and he gunned it out of the lot.

You watched him drive off, not quite believing what had happened. But he was gone, just like you wanted.

- - -

It was almost a month since you'd last seen him. You got a call from Sid, that mean old bastard, as he explained how he graciously bailed out his step-son for the last time and that Johnny was no longer his responsibility. He managed to throw in a couple more insults as he told you to deal with Johnny from now on, suggesting to try payday loans or hustling the next time you had to pay for his bail. You hung up right after that, infuriated that Johnny had to grow up with someone like him.

Though your first instinct was to go straight to his apartment, you gave him a call instead, not wanting to cross any boundaries.

“Hello?” Johnny answered, he obviously hadn't checked to see who was calling him.

“Hey, Johnny.” The other end of the line was silent for a beat too long, you hurried to say something else before he could hang up. “I wanted to make sure you're okay. Sid gave me a call, he said that he bailed you out of jail.”

He huffed and hummed in displeasure. “Of course he did.”

“A-Are you?”

“What?”

“Okay?”

“I'm fine.”

“I was worried, I-”

“Yeah well, you don't need to do that anymore, do you?” Before you could say anything else, he hung up. The pain in your heart was the same as when he had driven away from the diner. Why wasn't it easing, even a little?

You missed him so much.

- - -

The new apartment you were living in was worse than Johnny's. You had to work extra shifts and overtime to pay the rent, and you were still struggling. It hadn't been as bad when you'd lived with him, he'd split the bills with you.

You were on a lunch break, thinking about going to the grocery store to buy some dish detergent. There weren't any clean dishes left, you'd gone through everything. You'd already used a mug as a substitute for a bowl several times. Your phone started ringing, distracting you from the thought. Seeing that it was Johnny calling made your chest twinge in discomfort.

“Hello?” You answered hesitantly.

“You left some of your stuff here,” he said bluntly without preamble. You were so shocked that he had called that you didn't manage to spit out a reply.

“Are you gonna come pick it up?” He prompted.

“Uh yeah, of course. What um. . .when do you want me to come over?”

“Anytime past eight.”

“Okay.”

“I've gotta go.” He didn't you a chance to say goodbye, or to ask whether he meant tonight. That must have been what he was saying, right? The rest of the day you were a wreck of nerves, unsure of how badly the next meeting with Johnny was going to go. Hadn't you taken everything from the apartment? What if he thought you had purposefully left it to give yourself an excuse to see him again?

Ten minutes past eight o'clock, you were walking up to his apartment, worrying that you might be too early. Should you have come at half eight or nine? You tried to stead yourself before knocking. When he opened up the door, you were surprised to see that he was clean-shaven. He looked good. . .healthy. The last time he'd shaved was when he saw Robby a while ago. The two of them had gotten into an argument. Johnny didn't take it well. After picking a fight with you, he went on a two day bender.

From the way he was looking you over, it was like he wasn't expecting you at all. Did he not mean tonight? Before you could tell him you'd come back another time, he opened up the door fully, gesturing for you to come inside by tilting his head.

After he closed the door behind you, he walked over to the kitchen. You didn't know what to do with yourself. The place felt so familiar, but at the same time there was now an underlying hostility to it. Sitting down would be too presumptuous, you didn't want to upset him. He opened up the refrigerator, you wondered how much stuff he had in there but you couldn't quite see from this angle. Johnny had a tendency to be forgetful about the groceries, but not the beer though. He never forgot the beer.

“You want something to drink?” He asked, you weren't sure if he was actually offering alcohol.

“No, thanks.”

“I've got orange juice,” he clarified.

“I'm okay.”

“Are you?”

“Yeah.” He shut the refrigerator and walked up to you, his finger pointing at your face.

“Those bags under your eyes say different.”

“I've worked a couple long shifts, that's all.”

“Sure,” he replied, with a hint of irritation to his tone. He always could see right through you. Rather than bothering to ask you for the truth, he picked up a box and put it on the coffee table. “Your stuff's in here.”

He migrated back to the kitchen, giving you a chance to take a look at what was inside. There were some toiletries, a toothbrush, a couple CDs, a tupperware box and an old Metallica shirt.

“This shirt is yours,” you told him, folding it up and placing it onto the table.

“The amount of times you've worn it. . .pretty sure it's yours.” There was a weak smile on his face. He was trying to break through the tension, ease up the conversation. You almost breathed out a sigh of relief, appreciative that he was trying to make this easier.

“It's really comfortable. Couldn't ever fault your taste in classic band shirts,” you responded in kind in an attempt to keep things jovial.

“Just everything else, huh?” He retorted, his eyes flicking away, his mouth twitching like he hadn't meant to say that. Awkwardly, you shuffled the items around the box, wondering how to recover the conversation without it degrading into something unpleasant. A knock on the front door pulled you from the thought. He had a grimace on his face as he went to see who it was. There was a kid the other side of the door.

“Sensei! I forgot to ask earlier, are there some exercises I should be doing in the morning? I was reading this article about metabolism and-”

“Now's really not a good time,” Johnny told him, trying to gently dismiss him. The kid then spotted you, his eyebrows raising in surprise. You gave him a half-hearted wave, wondering why he was calling Johnny Sensei.

“Oh, is that your friend?”

“What part of not a good time don't you get?”

“Sorry I uhh. . .guess I'll come back tomorrow?”

“Mmmhmm,” Johnny hummed. He answered the kid's question as he began to close the door. “Fifty crunches, forty lunges, thirty push ups.”

“Is that forty lunges per leg or-” The door was shut before the kid could finish. Johnny turned around, shifting his weight uncomfortably like you'd seen something you weren't meant to. You wanted to ask what the whole Sensei thing was about, why some kid was asking him about what exercises he should be doing in the morning.

“He seems like a good kid.”

“Yeah, when he's not being annoying.” There was no insult to his words, you could tell that Johnny liked him.

“What's his name?”

“Miguel. He lives in the apartment opposite.”

“Oh right,” you replied, unsure why he was making friends with the neighbours. He hadn't ever done that before. You turned your attention back to the contents of the box, fingers running along the edge of a CD case. It felt so strange being removed from Johnny's life, being unwelcome to the facets of his life. You had asked the most polite and unobtrusive questions you could think of, but you couldn't come up with anything else.

“I opened up a dojo,” he told you, his hands hanging awkwardly by his side.

“A dojo? You're doing karate again?”

“Yeah.”

“I thought you hadn't done karate since you were in high school?”

“I haven't. Not until now.”

“Oh,” you muttered, mind replaying everything he had told you about Kreese. Sometimes he had nightmares about his old Sensei, he'd wake up shaking, struggling to breathe. One time he accidentally elbowed you in the face because you were too close. You had an arm around him, you had been pressed up against his back, spooning him. That was the last time you'd slept like that.

“But after everything that happened with Cobra Kai, I thought. . .” you trailed off.

“It's going to be different. It's not going to be like how it was before.” With Kreese, you finished wordlessly, understanding what he meant. Was it really a good idea for him to be doing karate again? You remembered the fights he'd gotten into, he was proficient enough as it was. It would give him direction though, something to focus on, something to work towards. He needed that.

But where did he get the money to open his own dojo? It must have expensive. Was it Sid? Was it part of his final pay off to get rid of Johnny for good?

“Miguel's your student then?”

“Yeah, he's my first one.”

“That's great, Johnny,” you told him honestly, knowing that this could get him back on track. “I'm happy for you.” He stared for a few moments, there was something off about his expression. Did he not believe you? He nodded non-committally in response.

You pointlessly shuffled around a few things in the box to give yourself something to do. The silence hung heavy in the air. You didn't want to leave, but you didn't feel welcome anymore.

“Was there anything else?” You asked, after you refolded the Metallica shirt and carefully tucked it away into the box. There wasn't anything more you could do to prolong your time with him.

“No, it's all in there.” Picking up the box, you slowly approached Johnny as he stood by the door.

“Thanks for calling me.” You pressed your lips together in a polite smile. “I hope everything goes well at the dojo.”

“Me too.” Johnny didn't move to open up the door, you wondered if he was expecting you to go around him. You took another step forward, shifting your grip on the box. Another few seconds passed until he finally opened the door. He brushed his hand along your arm as you moved past him. The sensation of his touch was a harsh reminder of how much you missed the intimacy you once shared with him. You were nothing but acquaintances now.

“Maybe take it easy with work, hmm?” He suggested gently. You must have looked worse than you realised. You nodded your head, you couldn't tell him that you would take it easy, that wasn't a choice you had.

As you walked off, you were perturbed by the thought that that was the last time you'd ever be in his apartment. - - - Hope you enjoyed it! I’m currently writing the next chapter and will share it when it’s finished. Do any of you want me to start a taglist for this? I’d be more than happy too. 

#johnny lawrence #johnny lawrence x reader #cobra kai #william zabka #atmo-x #i just needed some heavy johnny angst okay

[sp00kyjellybeans]

Ghostface is typing... [Stu Macher x Reader]

What happens when you text a killer?

First real chapter woooooo- Hope you all enjoy

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2,059

part one//iMessage part two//iMessage part three//iMessage Group Chat part four//iMessage Group Chat part five//Movie Night

In hindsight, you didn’t think through the possibilities of tonight. The awkwardness that has ensued was beyond your comprehension when you agreed to be picked up in the first place. You figured that since you’d be spending time with some of the most popular people at Woodsboro High it’d be fine. No awkwardness. Just some movies and pizza... right?

Wrong. 

Currently, you sat in the back of Stu Macher’s car. Stu picked you up no earlier than 6:55pm in his Mercedes-Benz, which subtly reminded you that you were hanging out with one of the richest boys in school on top of his popularity.

Tatum sat in the front seat alongside Stu with their hands intertwined, yet the blonde had her body facing away from him completely. Her head rested comfortably on her manicured hands, staring out the tinted window after greeting you. 

The drive seemed to last longer than it actually was. The seven minutes it took to arrive at Sidney Prescott’s place felt like seventy minutes. It didn’t dawn on you until Stu pulled into the driveway that you were at Sidney Prescott’s house.

Although knowing each other since kindergarten, you had only seen her house at fleeting moments. The most recent time was when her mother passed. As a spastic attempt to leave town, your parents were eager to leave due to the murder, you passed by the beautiful white house that had turned into a crime scene.

“Woo!” Stu’s voice knocked you back to reality, shutting the car door with a slam. “It’s movie night, babes! BILLY! Where ya at?” Stu bellowed out, cupping his hands around his mouth. 

You walked alongside Tatum up to the porch, her eyes practically rolling into the back of her head. 

“You’ll have to excuse him. He’s an idiot,” she sighed, ringing the doorbell. 

“Randy’s not here. Damnit! I wanted some ‘za,” Stu whipped his head around, unable to find Randy’s car. “It’s past seven! That dork is always late.”

“Just give him a minute,” Tatum rolled her eyes once more. “Sid and I will make some popcorn in the meantime. Just chill.”

“Hey guys!” The door opened to reveal a smiling Sidney. “(Y/n)! So glad you could make it!” Sidney leapt forward and threw her arms around you in an embrace. 

“I’m glad to be here! Thanks for having me,” You smiled.

“What? No special greeting for me?” Stu whined and Tatum swatted his shoulder. “Ow- The hell?” 

“Doofus.”

“Come on in!” Sidney grabbed your hand and led the three of you into the living room.

As expected, the inside of her house looked nothing like the crime scene you had envisioned. It was decorated with normal, suburban house décor but most of the lights were out. The only light source coming from the hallway and kitchen bulbs. In the living room sat Billy, who was flipping through various Netflix movies under the horror tag.

“Billy, this is (Y/n)!” Sidney stood to the side and presented you like a new toy. 

“Sup,” Billy barely acknowledged you, still flipping through the movies.

You offered a small wave and allowed Sidney to lead you to the couch. You sat on the end opposite to Billy, pulling your legs to form a criss cross position on the cushion, with your shoes off of course. 

Sidney positioned herself next to her boyfriend and Tatum did the same, with her on your right, leaving no vacancy for Randy who was still late.

“I swear to god you better not put on some cheesy horror movie-” Tatum groaned. 

Stu sent puppy eyes her way almost instantly, “Babe come on!”

“No! We watch one every movie night. Sid hates that shit, too ya know,” Tatum crossed her arms stubbornly.

“Is that true?” Stu turned to face her and she nodded her head. “You lie. You always watch them with Billy.”

“Because he makes me?”

“I’m sure (Y/n) would wanna watch! Don’t you, (Y/n)? Then Randy is always up for it so we win!” Stu pumped his fists up in the air. 

Tatum nudged his side, “She didn’t even say that she likes horror movies, dipshit. Give her a chance to speak.”

The group of four peered at you with curious eyes, waiting for your verdict. You chuckled nervously but went with the truth.

“I actually kind of like them...?” You winced, afraid of how the girls would react. It was a stale reaction.

“Wow. That’s unexpected,” Sidney raised her eyebrows. “Horror movie it is then.” 

You glanced at Stu, who’s expectant expression shifted to pure joy, “HELL YEAH!” The boy stuck out his tongue and held his hand out for a high five, which Billy promptly ignored, “Come on! Don’t leave me hanging!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Tatum muttered, sending a pleading signal at Sidney. Neither of the boys noticed this.

Sidney understood Tatum’s expression instantly and pushed herself off of the couch. She walked towards a door, looking at Tatum expectantly, “Tate, come make popcorn with me?”

They left the room, whispering ensued as soon as they entered the kitchen and you were left with Billy and Stu. Once he had lost sight of the two of them, Stu leapt across the couch, taking up the space that Tatum occupied.

“I didn’t know you watched horror movies,” He grinned and leaned on the headboard of the couch. He reminded you of a puppy. “That makes you like a thousand times more interesting.”

You scoffed playfully, “You mean I was boring before?” You put a hand to your chest. “And I thought we had meaningful conversations.”

Stu’s face dropped, “Wait that’s not what I meant-”

“I’m hurt, Stu,” The disappointment was clear in your tone, especially when you turned away from him with your arms folded.

“(Y/n) I didn’t mean that-”

“I’m kidding, Stu!” Unable to contain your laughter you turned back at the blonde. Realizing that you were just messing with him, he joined your giggles, laughing a lot louder than necessary. 

On the other end of the couch, Billy turned his head from the TV to stare at you and his friend. He was annoyed with how obnoxiously obvious he was. Neither of you noticed but his prolonged stare was interrupted when a ding sounded from his phone.

Everyone else in the room had their phone buzz in response too, indicating someone messaged the group chat.

“Oh, Randy said he’s here. Should I let him in?” You lifted your phone to your face.

“I got it!” Sidney called from the kitchen and darted into the foyer.

Stu didn’t bother looking at his phone and instead stared at your screen, a grin wide on his face.

“What?” You said, confused at his smirk. “What’s that look for?”

“Why in the hell is Randy put as Randy Geeks in your phone?” Stu snatched the device from your hand and stood up tall on the couch, looming above you. Every second that passed his grin had grown wider.

Billy covered his mouth with his hand, looking between you, Stu and the newly arrived Randy.

“My name is what?” Randy asked, exasperated. 

While Randy stared at you both, Stu stood upright on the couch to prevent you from grabbing the device. You were both too distracted to notice Randy in the room until he spoke. 

“Oh my god!” Your expression shifted from defeated to horrified to guilty all in a matter of seconds. “I didn’t mean anything by it- I just tried putting your full name and it autocorrected from Meeks to Geeks! I thought it was funny!”

“It is funny,” Tatum said. She had a bowl of popcorn in her hands, shoveling the pieces into her mouth. Her amused expression moved onto Randy. “Hey, Geeks.”

“Watch it,” He pointed at Tatum. “Never insult the guy with the pizza.”

“WHY IS MY NAME STILL GRU IN YOUR PHONE?” Stu exploded, his mouth agape. “I’M CHANGING IT!”

How did you even unlock it? What the hell, Stu?” You jumped up and tried to grab the phone back from this excessively tall boy.

The disadvantage here was, in comparison, you were small next to Stu. His long arms extended past your limit of reach. In a desperate attempt to take your phone back, you started to pound on his back. Maybe he would drop the phone or fall over. But it was no use. The lanky boy jumped from the couch and ran out of the room.

“WH-”

“Great,” Tatum rolled her eyes. “We’re babysitting.”

You groaned and landed onto the couch cushion, far too lazy to chase after the boy. Moments after he ran off you heard a door slam and lock, so there was nothing to be done.

“Stu!” Billy barked five minutes later. “Come get your pizza!”

“No way!” Stu’s muffled voice could be heard from the kitchen. “The stuff on (Y/n)’s phone is juicy. I’ll be in here for hours!”

“More for us...” Randy muttered.

“Sidney, can you help me out?” You whined. Your appetite vanished the moment Stu spoke, the phone was your top priority. Nosy Bastard!

“There’s a key in that drawer over there,” Sidney pointed. “Skeleton Key, it’s pretty obvious. The bathroom at the end of the hallway”

You gave thanks and snuck down the hallway, trying to make the quietest footsteps possible. Once you reached the doorway you could hear Stu snickering behind the thin wood. Sticking the key in the keyhole you turned it slowly...

“AHA” You snatched the phone from the boy and he let out a scream of terror. Behind you there came an eruption of laughter from four people.

“HAHA OH MY GOD,” Randy roared, his phone held in his hand. He had filmed the entire interaction. “That’s going on the private. (Y/n) what’s your snap you NEED to see the look on his face!”

You slapped a hand over your mouth upon realization of what had happened. Your eyes darted to Stu, who was red as a tomato. 

“Whatever, Geeks.”

The rest of the night was more fun than you could imagine. No more awkwardness. You wouldn’t tell a soul but it was even more fun than hanging out with your old friends.

The movie everyone agreed on was Happy Death Day. Billy and Stu were annoyed (Stu was already annoyed but for different reasons, obviously) since they wanted to watch a classic, Evil Dead, but the rest of you were eager to watch the horror-comedy. It came down to a vote and majority ruled. Even Randy voted for the film. It didn’t compare to the classics at all, but you didn’t hate it.

As you watched the movie, you interacted frequently with Randy. He had forgiven you for his contact name and you both had more in common than anticipated. For instance, you both loved movies of all genres, though unlike him horror wasn’t your absolute favorite. You were a total sucker for romance of all genres.

Sadly, you didn’t get to visit with the others as much as you wanted. The couples seemed focused on everything but the movie so you and Randy were left to converse. Little did you know, Stu had been keeping tabs on you in the corner of his eye.

The night flew by and it was time for you to go home. You bid your goodbyes and decided to ride home with Randy. You found out that you both lived on the same street, so it was more convenient than having Stu drive around town.

“You sure, (Y/n)?” Stu stuck his hands in his pockets, bouncing on his heels. “I don’t mind giving you a ride.”

You, Randy, Tatum and Stu stood in Sidney’s driveway, discussing who would go with who. Stu was insistent on driving you home for whatever reason but you could tell Tatum wanted the opposite.

“No worries,” You smiled. “I’m sure you’d like to spend more time with your girlfriend anyway.” You winked at the tiny blonde, earning you a grateful smile, and not noticing the frustrated look on Stu’s face.

“Alright... Bye then,” Stu said and strode to his shiny car.

The boy didn’t exit the driveway until Randy’s car left his vision, his jaw clenched the entire time.

“Can we go, Stu?” Tatum whined to her boyfriend.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”

“You’re what?”

“Going. I’m going.”

#stu macher #stu macher x reader #stu macher series #sp00kyjellybeans #scream #scream 1996 #scream modern au #scream fic series #scream series #ghostface

[kessielrg]

[Kingdom Hearts] Messenger Chirithy

Summary: In which two Chirithy play messenger pigeon for their respective Keyblade wielders. Why? Because Gummiphones are supposed to be turned off during lessons, obviously. [VentusxOC][nonbinary Chirithy][post-Lost Lights]

Rating: K

Word Count: 1,517 words

If you liked this story, please reblog!

---

Ven let out a long, annoyed sigh. The teen took a glance up at his friends, Terra and Aqua, as Aqua used Terra to move things around the training room. You would think that by now, Ven wouldn’t have to do the reading and writing portion of Keyblade training anymore. He was just as experienced as his friends. (Maybe even more if Chirithy would admit to it.) This kind of stuff was made for newer wielders like Kairi and Lea. If Ven kept reading about the ingredients to synthesis a Dream Eater, he was going to start crying tears of boredom.

“Chin up, Ven!” Chirithy happily declared, hopping into view to distract its wielder. “You still have about three pages to go, then you’ll have a fast quiz after.”

That only made Ven groan. Terra and Aqua didn’t even bother to turn around. Rude.

“Kairi’s not doing reading work today.” Ven whined. “And who knows what Lea’s doing today. Not training. Not when Roxas and Xion are starting school in Twilight Town.”

Ven let out another groan as he rubbed his face with his hands. He looked at his Chirithy with an increasing hopelessness.

“Do you think Aqua has Sabrina doing reading and writing stuff too? Maybe I could ask her.”

Chirithy crossed their arms, casting a skeptical look at its wielder. “Good idea- spare for one thing. No Gummiphones while training.”

“This isn’t training.” Ven spat. “This is reading. It’s worse.”

“Still training!” Chirithy replied in a sing-song voice. But still, it could tell how bored Ven was. Chirithy sighed. “You know,” it started to suggest, “If you write a letter to her, then Aqua might think that you’re taking notes instead.”

Ven looked at his Chirithy. His eyes grew wide at the prospect. Then, in the least conspicuous way possible, Ventus started to shuffle through his books for a blank piece of paper. Chirithy looked on with mild curiosity as Ven wrote a single sentence.

‘Is Aqua making you study Dream Eaters too?’

Biting his lip, Ven carefully folded the paper into three times before handing it to Chirithy.

“Here.” he said with a grin. Chirithy just looked at him.

“That’s it? Just a sentence?”

Ventus recoiled a bit. “Why?” the teen asked in genuine confusion. “What else could I say?”

“It’s still a letter, Ven. I say you gotta give it a little more meat. Otherwise, you might as well try to snag your Gummiphone from Terra and just text her.”

Ven glanced over at Terra, flinched, then looked back at Chirithy. “Alright,” he agreed. “We’ll write Sabrina a real letter. It would still be a break from all this reading.”

“There ya go!” Chirithy agreed with a grin. Ven gave the Dream Eater a firm nod before scratching out his old sentence, then writing something much longer. He just hoped Sabrina would like it.

. . .

Sabrina paced around her room as she read over the danger of Nightmares. On her bed, two bunny children were acting out a rather heated fight. One of the bunnies ended up the victor, while the loser pretended to be dramatically dying. If you felt like listening close enough, you would have sworn that the winner of the battle mentioned something about having ice cream with someone. Even a few Guardians felt like playing along- hanging around the ‘dying’ bunny kid like crystals rising into the air. But Sabrina wasn’t paying attention; her focus was too razor-sharp to even register the theatrics on her bed at the moment.

She wasn’t even paying that much attention when Chirithy appeared at the foot of her bed.

“I have a letter for you!” Chirithy declared.

Sabrina stopped her pacing with a blink. She looked at Chirithy, then raised a skeptic eyebrow.

“From who?” she asked.

“Ven. Apparently.”

“Apparently?”

“His Chirithy said that he didn’t want to study.”

“Yeah, sounds about right.” Sabrina snorted as she took the letter from the Dream Eater. The smirk she had as she read through the letter slowly started to become a look of horror.

“Oh no.”

“What?”

“Remind me to tell Aqua to teach Ventus how to write a proper letter.” Sabrina said as she sat on the bed, allowing both Chirithy and the bunny children to read over the letter as well. “This is… wow. Okay, then.”

Sabrina let out a snort as Chirithy looked at the letter.

“I think it’s sweet.” Chirithy hummed as it glanced up at Sabrina.

“And that’s exactly what’s wrong with it,” she decided as she got up. She set the letter down on her desk before going through the desk’s drawers. From one drawer she pulled out a rather fancy inkwell, and from another she pulled out a just as fancy ink pen. Sabrina sat down at her desk in preparation to write her return letter.

Chirithy hopped into the air to leave the bed, only to appear on top of Sabrina’s desk. The bunny children stayed on the bed, laying on their stomachs as they observed their big sis like they were watching TV instead. Sabrina got into a rather firm posture as her guided the pen across the paper. There was an art is calligraphy- one that she took with extreme pride in.

‘Ventus,

Who on earth taught you how to write a letter? That thing has to be the most disastrous piece of parchment I have yet to lay eyes on. Paragraphs are a thing- use them.’

“Ow. Harsh.” Chirithy noted.

“Oh, but dear Chirithy, I’ve got far more up my sleeve.” Sabrina replied with cunning grin.

“Now I’m scared.”

Both wielder and Chirithy looked at each other, then shared an equal grin before Sabrina continued to write.

. . .

A few hours later, Chirithy patiently waited at Yen Sid’s tower. The Dream Eater kicked its legs as it sat at the foot of the steps. Chirithy hummed a rather jaunty tune to itself, even moving its head from side to side with every half beat. Where had they heard that song? It wasn’t anything Ventus knew.

“Hey Chirithy!”

Chirithy looked up and smiled. Sabrina’s Chirithy was bounding up to Ven’s Chirithy with a new letter in its hand. Like all of Sabrina’s other letters, it was neatly placed inside an envelope with a personal seal embossed on the top left corner. (The first two letters she sent were actually sealed with wax. But in finding that she and Ventus would be sending far more letters to each other, she quickly did away with it for an envelope that could be used over and over again.) If Chirithy tried to breath in deep enough, it could get a whiff of lavender. At this point, it wasn’t sure if it was coming from the letter or the other Chirithy.

“Just in time, Chirithy!” Ven’s Chirithy greeted. It got up from the steps to meet Sabrina’s Chirithy halfway. The duo gave each other a respectful nod before the Chirithy exchanged the letter.

“Is this the last letter of tonight?” Ven’s Chirithy asked.

“Oh, I don’t know.” Sabrina’s Chirithy replied. It seemed a bit perplexed at the idea. “She’s taking this quite seriously. It’s almost something I’ve never seen out of her before.”

“Ven’s totally lost track of time too.” Chirithy nodded. “Lemme tell ya something, Chirithy. I did not expect her to scent her letters with perfume. It almost blew the whole operation up right then and there.”

“Trust me, you should have seen my surprise when she pulled out an actual inkwell.”

Chirithy jumped back in shock. “She uses real ink?!”

The other Chirithy just folded its arms and gave the first a rather hard stare. “When was the last time you saw a generic pen use purple ink that changes to green when you look at it a certain way?”

“Point taken.” Chirithy thoughtfully nodded. It thought about something for a moment, then gave a small chortle. “She’s so extra.”

“Yeah.” the second Chirithy agreed. It even stood a bit taller with pride. “But it’s only because she likes him.”

Ven’s Chirithy laughed. Not long after, the other Chirithy joined in as well. At this point, Sabrina’s silent admiration for Ventus was well known to both Chirithy. There were precious few things wielders could hide from their special Dream Eaters to begin with. Budding feelings for another wielder were definitely at the top of the list.

As their enjoyment faded somewhat, Sabrina’s Chirithy placed a hand by its head in thought. “I hope they don’t do this all night.” it mused. “This is kinda exhausting.”

“It is.” Chirithy sighed. It let out a thoughtful hum before asking, “Is she having fun?”

“Of course!” the other Chirithy happily nodded. “I haven’t seen her so interested in anything since Aqua’s first training lesson.”

“That’s good. Well, got to go. She’s really keeping Ven is suspense.”

“No doubt. See you again in about 10 minutes, Chirithy.”

“See ya, Chirithy.”

And with that, both Chirithy returned to their respective wielders. They didn’t know it yet- but it was going to be a long night as well.

#kingdom hearts #kingdom hearts fanfiction #kh fanfiction #ventus #kingdom hearts oc #kh oc #kh ventus #kh ven #fanfiction #fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic #kh fan fic #kh chirithy #chirithy #writers on tumblr

[myhockeyworld87]

Bubble Wrapped - Part 9

Word Count: 4,396

POV: Reader

Warnings: Same as always, Language, Smut, NSFW, Please see the note in the Masterlist

Teams: Bruins, Caps, Flyers, Lightning, Pens, Jackets, Canes, Islanders (more to come)

Notes: Finally part 9! Thank you guys for being patient with me as I finally got back to writing. I’m not sure if anyone is still interested in this story now that Bubble is officially over. So please let me know if I should continue you on with this story or just let it drop off. At any rate, here’s the next part, so happy reading!

"Earth to (Y/N)! Are you in there?" Carly asked as she tapped on the front desk where you would like to say that you were lost in thought, but in reality; you'd just sort of spaced out. When you didn't reply right away; Carly said, "Are you done moping yet? It's been almost a week."

 "Please, stop exaggerating. It hasn't been a week." Sometimes Carly could be so dramatic, you thought to yourself.

 "Bitch, his team got ousted last Friday and today is Thursday. I might not have the fancy education you do, but that's six days which means tomorrow is a week." She pointed her finger directly at you. "You, Miss (Y/LN), have been sulking around this hotel for about five days too many by my count." It was hard not to roll your eyes but you suppressed it all the same. "Look I know…" she brought her voice to a whisper, "Sidney…must have been amazing in bed. Though why you haven't told me all the details yet; I'm baffled? Like seriously sis, spill the beans."

 This time you couldn't hold back as your eyes practically rolled back into your head at your soon to be former best friend if she kept this line of questioning up. "And what makes you think that I slept with Sid? How do you know I'm not pining over Tyler or someone else for that matter."

 "Well, I saw him leave. I'm not blind. The man literally couldn't take his eyes off you and the look on your face!" She pulled her lip down in a pout and mimicked a look of utter devastation. "You were a puppy that someone had not only kicked to the curb but then got run over."

 "I wasn't that bad."

 "Ok, well maybe not run over by like a car, but definitely by a bike." A chuckle escaped your lips and you supposed you were kind of upset that Sid and the Pens were headed back to Pittsburgh. "Oh my god, was that a smile? I haven't seen that in days." She pressed the back of her hand to your forehead.

 "What are you doing now?" You frowned at her.

 "Checking to make sure you don't have a fever."

 "Stop," you said starting to giggle. "Someone will think I have Covid or something." Carly joined you in laughter and you had to admit it actually felt kind of good. You hadn't realized that you were being such a Debbie Downer once Sidney had left, but once you started laughing your heart felt a little lighter.

 "See, I knew she was in there. Welcome back!" Carly came around the desk and hugged you. "Though I'm still going to make a suggestion to you." You cocked your head in inquiry. "Why don't you take the day off?" She could tell that you were going to say something but she held you off with a wave of her hand. "We came in the bubble two weeks before the players and they've been here for almost three. That's five weeks and you have yet to take one day to yourself. You've insisted the rest of us take off at least one day a week if not two. I think you should do the same." While Carly's plan sounded great, you really couldn't see yourself just taking the day to lounge at the pool or in your suite.

 "What if there's another fight? Or the kitchen catches on fire? Or…" She didn't let you come up with any more scenarios.

 "Someone will call you. See that thing right there." She picked up your cell phone. "It's amazing and lets us talk to you if we need something."

 "But what would I do? It's not like I can go get drunk at a club or something."

 Carly sighed heavily, "I have to do everything for you don't I?" She was definitely skating on thin ice in the friend department. "Why don't you go sit by the pool, or go for a run over in the stadium. It's a beautiful summer day, get out there and enjoy it. Besides you're starting to look pale, a little sun would do you some good." She grabbed your wrist and start to haul you out from behind the desk. "Then tonight, crack open a bottle of wine, take a hot bubble bath….maybe with one of these hot men that can't quit staring at you."

 "Oh stop, they are not staring at me."

 "Girl, would you look around." You did as she said, watching guys from different teams mill about the front lobby. There were some definite stares in both yours and Carly's direction. "See that one there," she pointed over to Jake Debrusk. "I swear he comes down to the lobby just drool over you, or what about that one. I think Brayden said his name was Joel Edmundson. He also mentioned something about him and crop tops, but then well he stopped talking when that sent my eyes wandering a little too far south for his pleasure. The man really can get jealous."

 "Can you blame him, Car? There are very few women in this bubble and quite a few men." The ratio was well to your advantage; that's for sure. "He's afraid he could lose you to one of these other guys."

 "Will never happen. But you're distracting me." She was now dragging you towards the elevators. "Now get your little butt up there and go do something fun for the day." She pushed the button and the elevator doors opened. "Oh! I expect to get notes or something if there are any hookups. Don't pull that shit you did with you know who."

 "What? I can't hear you." You told her as the door slid close. Faintly you heard something about bullshit and probably a few other choice words. Once you were in your suite, you decided to take Carly's suggestion and head over to the stadium for a little run. It had been quite some time that you'd actually gotten on the pavement instead of the treadmill and hopefully, it would clear your head of any lingering thoughts of Sidney. You quickly changed into some running shorts, a sports bra and one of those famous crop tops Carly was talking about Joel Edmundson wearing; then slipped on your sneakers and AirPods, and headed outside.

 Carly had been right. It was a gorgeous day to be outside. The sky was the most beautiful shade of blue, with white puffy clouds that reminded you of cotton dotting it throughout. You could still hear the light buzz of traffic from the city, as you made your way over to the stadium. Carly, forgot to mention that Islanders happened to be using the facility when you got there, but then you supposed that it was always busy except for the evening. You almost turned around, and went back to the hotel, not wanting to interrupt their time, but you saw a few other non-team members wandering about and figured that taking a little run shouldn't bother anyone.

 Cranking up the music, you started at a nice leisurely jog, just warming your legs up, as you made your way about halfway around before kicking it up at a faster pace. The sun felt good on your body as well as the fresh air getting in your lungs. You were off in your own world as you continued what was probably your fourth lap around the place when something came flying out in front of you. You stopped in your tracks.

 "Sorry about that," Mat Barzal said as he came over to retrieve what you now knew was a frisbee. "Didn't mean to interrupt your run." His shirt was off and sweat glistened on his well-defined abs.

 "It's no biggie," you told him as you went to put your earbud back in and continue on with your run.

 His hand went to reach for your wrist, but he caught himself before he grabbed you, though the action made you stop anyway. "Sorry again," this time you just smiled, which in turn made Mat smile and that was something to behold. "You're (Y/N) right?" you nodded and it really didn't feel strange now that almost every NHL player knew your name. "You wouldn't be interested in a game of spikeball; would you? We need another player."

 "Oh, um…" You were kind of stunned by him asking you, not that you didn't want to play. It was just, you were sure there had to be someone else that was probably better than you.

 "Please," there was this little puppy dog look in his eyes, and you were done for.

 "Sure," you told him, then followed him over to where Anthony Beauvillier and Derick Brassard were hanging out by the spikeball game. "I'm warning you, I not a professional athlete like you guys."

 "Don't worry, it's just a friendly little game." Mat told you, and yet somehow you figured even the friendliest of games with these guys would be competitive. Introductions were made, not that you didn't know who these guys were, but it was still a nice gesture. "So, I'll take (Y/N)." Mat declared.

 "What if I want her on my team?" Tito interjected and you really didn't feel that you were that great of a player to fight over, though to be honest, you had a feeling it wasn't about the ball game.

 "Well, so you kids don't fight. (Y/N) and I will be partners." Derick decided to chime in.

 "Guys, I'm not that good." You felt the need to be at least upfront with them.

 "I'm sure you're great," Derick said, while he wrapped his arm around your shoulders.

 "The only fair way to settle this is rock, paper, scissors." This from Tito, as he made a fist preparing for the game, the other two joined him. Tito and Mat both picked scissors, effectively cutting out Derick who had chosen to go with paper. Now down to the two friends, it took two tries before they didn't pick the exact same gesture. In the end, it was Mat who won with a paper to cover up Anthony's rock.

 "Guess it's you and me." Mat said steering you over to his side of the net. "You know we're skins right?" there was a teasing note to his voice, along with a twinkle in his eye, to tell you he was joking. But to call his bluff, you simply stripped off your crop top and tossed it over to the side, leaving you clad in only your sports bra. All three guys' eyes about popped out of their heads as you reached for the hem of the bra.

 "Trust me, boys, you'll have to work a lot harder than that to get the rest off," you teased as you dropped your arms back down. "Well, are we going to play or what?" They chuckled at your joke, though you were pretty sure you saw Derick adjust his shorts and his cock.

 The game was fairly friendly at first, and it took you back to your high school days on the volleyball team, though it was a far cry from your setter's position that you played. You and Tito ran into each other at least three times and you were pretty sure the third one was on purpose just so he could steady you by grabbing not only your hips but your ass as well. There were a ton of volleys and points seemed hard to come by, but overall, you had a blast. Mat carried your team, but you held your own from time to time. Close to the end of the game, all four of you were sweating and the other two guys had joined Mat in going shirtless. You knew you were going to have to thank Carly for giving you the suggestion of coming over here, just for the sights alone.

 The game was all tied up, and you had no idea how it had gotten to that point. You were pretty sure someone had to have lost count at some point, but you weren't going to argue as you were having too much fun. "Ok match point. We got this (Y/N)." Mat told you, then gave you a high five before the ball was served. You hit it over to Mat with ease and he spiked it onto the net. The volley went back and forth a few times, each time getting more and more difficult to return. You thought for sure on Mat's last spike over that there was no way they were going to get the ball. However, Derick's quick reflexes had him tossing it back over to Tito, who set Derick back up for a soft spike. The ball fluttered to the ground and both you and Mat dove trying to reach it. It all played out in slow motion in your head, you could almost foresee the two of you clunking heads which would probably result in both of you getting a concussion, but at the last second, Mat rolled to his side instead, grabbing you as he did so he absorbed most of the impact. As you both landed on the ground, he moved so that his back was now on the grass with your body on top of him.

 You were a bit stunned at first but recovered quickly. "Are you ok? You're not hurt, are you?" The words tumbled out of your mouth as you went to get up, only to have Mat's arms pin you closer to his body. That's when you felt his cock stiffen. Maybe it was the action of sliding down his body slightly so that you could see his face that caused it, or maybe it was just your body pressed against his; you weren't entirely sure. All you knew was that it was definitely hard and seemed to have a bit of length to it, which made you want to get Mat in this same position only without prying eyes.

 "I'm ok." Mat said, drawing you back to your present circumstance.

 "Looks like we won." Tito gloated from above you, reminding you that you couldn't stay like this for much longer.

 "I'm not so sure about that." Mat whispered before rolling you onto your back, his weight all on his forearms before he lifted himself up off the ground then helped you up as well. "Good game," he said to his teammates, making you wonder if you'd actually heard what he said correctly.

 You shook hands with both Tito and Derick, before you all headed over to grab some water, making idol chit chat for a bit. It wasn't long before they were being told that they had to leave the arena as their time was up and another team was coming in within the hour. "It was a lot of fun guys, thanks for inviting me to play," you told them.

 "Our pleasure," Derick said, and you could've sworn you heard Tito say that he would play with you anytime. The double entendre was not lost on you.

 "I'm sure I'll see you around the hotel." You told them all then headed out of the arena as well, though in a different direction as your hotel was the other way. You'd just made it into the alcove when you heard Mat calling your name.

 "You forgot this," he said handing you, your crop top. "Can't have you going back to the hotel like that."

 "Thanks."

 Mat shifted his weight from foot to foot a few times, before saying. "Can I walk you back?"

 "Sure," you told him. "I mean as long as you don't have to go back with the team."

 "Nah, we have the next hour free still." Well, that was interesting information that you took in as you continued around the empty halls of the stadium. Mentally, you calculated how much time it would take to get to your suite and then for Mat to get back to his place. It was definitely more than an hour, so if you were going to have a little fun it was going to have to be here. Your eyes darted around, looking for the perfect spot. "What are you doing?"

 It was right at that moment that you found the ideal location. "This," you answered, grabbing Mat's hand and pulling him into the spot that would conceal you both in case anyone would walk by. As soon as you were ensconced inside, your lips found his. You pulled his neck down to meet your mouth, kissing him with abandonment. Mat caught on quick to your plan and quickly took control, pinning you against the wall as his mouth plundered inside yours. His tongue danced with yours, as his hands skimmed up your body, sending shivers down your spine.

 A lock of Mat's hair dipped down to his forehead and your hands moved up to push it back, though you didn't stop there as you let them sift through his thick mane. He moaned into your mouth, as your hands raked through his hair, nails slightly scraping his scalp. He devoured your whole with his mouth as if he couldn't get enough of you and the whole time you just wanted more of him. Mat's thigh came up between your legs, and you wantonly pressed your cunt down upon him. "Fuck baby," he whispered. "That's it, grind down on me." It wasn't like you needed to hear the words, but they still made you damp coming from his mouth. He released your mouth finally, but only so he could trail his lips down your neck to your breasts. His hands pushed your bra up, and you felt your arms reaching up to the sky so that he could remove it completely. "I've been wondering what these looked like the whole fucking game." His head fell back slightly so he could take your breasts in and you felt your nipples harden under his stare. "Fucking perfect," he panted out before capturing a pert nipple in his mouth.

 "Fuck Mat," you gasped as he lightly bit down. Hips now desperate, you continued to grind down on Mat's thick thigh as he lavished each of your breasts with attention. You whimpered, trying to find that perfect position against him that would put you over the edge, but then Mat moved his thigh away.

 "I can't," he said and your brain was too fogged from chasing your high to register what he meant before his fingers were sliding under the waistband of your shorts and panties. "Damn baby, I can't believe how wet you are." His fingers slid inside your pussy with ease and you moaned out with pleasure as he scissored two of them in, while his thumb pressed against your clit. "You like that," his whispered then sucked on your nipple again. "God, I want you to cum on my fingers so bad." They started to pump in and out of you then. "Can you do that pretty girl? Can you cum for me?"

 Fuck you loved it when he talked dirty like that. The combination of his words and his actions sending you spiraling into orgasm. "Mat," you called out as your body trembled.

 "Yeah baby, say my name. Tell everyone who's making you cum." He kept fingering you through the orgasm, pressing kisses all over your chest and neck. "So, fucking pretty." You slumped back against the wall, head going back as your body was finally sated. Mat pressed his fingers deep inside you one last time before withdrawing them and bringing them to his lips. His tongue darted out, licking up the length of them before he brought them to your lips. "Suck," it wasn't quite a command, but at the same time you didn't feel the need to disobey either and you wondered if the two of you had more time, what all Mat could come up with. You licked your essence off his digits, letting your tongue glide up his long fingers. It was Mat's turn to groan this time and you felt him go a little weak, so you took advantage and twisted you both so that he was now against the wall.

 You kissed him hard, before sliding down onto your knees taking his shorts and boxer briefs with you. Mat inhaled sharply as your hands skated back up his meaty thighs you were riding moments ago. Eyes locking with his, your tongue slipped out and licked the head of his cock, tasting the precum that was oozing from it. Your lips wrapped around the head then and you heard as well as felt his sigh of content before his fingers threaded through your hair. "Fuck (Y/N), that feels so good." His hand gently urged you to take more, and so you did. "That's it, baby, just like that." Your lips sunk down on as much of his cock as you could take in, while your hand fisted him at the base. Sucking him back out, you let your teeth lightly rake along his cock and he hissed out another fuck but thrust hips forward wanting you to take him back in. You did, but slowly centimeter by centimeter. Mat's head fell back against the wall. "You're killing me." Your lips smiled around his cock as you started to take him and out of your mouth.

 Mat was breathing was labored, as he fisted his hand around your hair, holding it back so he could see your face as you took him inside your mouth. Your tongue pressed up against the underside, and you felt him twitch in response. Letting your fingers dance along his thighs, you slithered them up to his balls where you cupped them and gave them a gentle squeeze. "Fuck, yeah," Mat panted, his hips now rocking into your mouth. Relaxing your throat, you hummed so that you could take him deeper. "Jesus," he hissed out, his hand now tightening on the back of your skull as he thrust again, this time shooting his cum down the back of your throat. You swallowed what you could, though some dribbled out and down your chin; that only turned Mat on more. "You're so fucking gorgeous right now." He told you, as he helped you back to your feet, where his lips locked with yours. You were half-naked from the waist up and Mat from the waist down, but you didn't care as you made out with him against the wall of the stadium. Time sort of stood still as the two of you entwined not only your mouths but your bodies. His hands going from your ass, then to your back, to your neck and then breasts, all at the same time. Off in the distance, you heard a noise, and you realized the other team must be coming in.

 You broke the kiss, though Mat chased after your lips still wanting that contact with you. "I think someone's coming." He heard it then, the idle chatter of voices still far enough away, but you weren't sure for how long.

 "Fuck, I thought we had more time." He reluctantly let you out of his embrace, but only so that you could both pull your clothes back on. Mat grabbed your crop top and slipped it back over your head, before pulling you back in for a kiss. "You're pretty amazing, you know that?" All you could do was blush. "I'm not just talking about back there either." You cocked your head at him, as the two of you headed back to Hotel X, fingers entwined. "I might be staying at Royal York, but everyone talks about how great it over at your place and how it's all because of you. You're like some legend or something."

 God, you were hoping that they weren't talking about all the sexual things that had gone on with other players. "Well, I'm glad everyone's happy. I'm really just doing my job."

 "Hopefully, I'll be over there soon," Mat added with a little wink to you, and you realized you wouldn't mind having him in your hotel at all. In fact, it would be a lot of fun. "I guess I have to let you go, huh?" You were now standing in front of the hotel and short of asking Mat up to your room, which you knew there wasn't time for; your interlude with him was coming to an end.

 "Well, you know you're more than welcome to use any of the facilities we have here anytime." It was your turn to give Mat a little wink.

 "I just might have to do that. We have a game tomorrow, but I'm sure I'll be needing to use the tennis courts or that pool sometime soon."

 "Well, make sure you stop and tell me hi when you're here."

 He chuckled at your comment. "Oh, there is no way I would forget to do that." He wrapped an arm around your waist and pulled you close to him, before dropping a kiss to your lips. Part of you was hesitant that someone might be watching but then it didn't matter because when Mat kissed you, it seemed like no one else even existed. "I gotta go." He finally said breaking away. "But I'll see you soon."

 "I'll hold you to that promise." He pecked your lips one more time before heading in the direction of his hotel.

 Thankfully, things were running smoothly at the hotel, so you decided to continue taking Carly's advice and head upstairs for a long hot bubble bath. Pouring yourself a glass of wine, you let the water get to the perfect temperature before sinking down into it. You sighed as you took a sip of the crisp tasting vintage as soft music played in the background. The only thing you were missing was a few pieces of chocolate to make this entire thing perfect. Well, and maybe Mat, for that man truly was something. You let your mind drift to thoughts of him and his rock-hard abs. What you wouldn't give to have him here right now, sliding into the water and into your pussy. Those thoughts were cut short as your phone rang. Damn, you thought, just when things were getting good.  

#bubble wrapped series #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl smut #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey smut #Pittsburgh Penguins fanfiction #Pittsburgh Penguins imagine #Pittsburgh Penguins imagines #Washington Capitals imagine #Washington Capitals imagines #Philadephia Flyers imagine #Philadephia Flyers imagines #Boston Bruins Imagine #Boston Bruins Imagines #Tampa Bay Lightning imagine #Tampa Bay Lightning imagines #new york islanders imagine #new york islanders imagines #Mat Barzal #Mat Barzal Imagine #anthony beauvillier #tito beauvillier #derick brassard

[emletish-fish]

7. what is you favorite sentence/paragraph? read it to us! (asker can choose what fic) (x)

I chose three! One from each of my 'big fics'. No Zombies, Worst Prisoners and Good Boys under the cut:

NO ZOMBIES:

No Zombies was a delight to write. I had pretty much the whole idea from the get-go, (of a returned style AU with Hector coming to spend time with the family in the modern world). I finished it quick - and it's not too long (side-eyeing Good Boy and Worst Prisoner). It was the first fic where I felt like I really "stuck" the landing. I was quite flexible with my original outline, but I still knew where the journey ended. It ended exactly how I wanted it too - happily but with a bitter-sweet note.

The emotional core of this story is how Elena, family matriach, who is so gruff and no-nonsense, who despises Hector in the films, and who has such a warm heart under such a grumpy exterior would slowly soften and come to love Hector, (and how she grows as a person because of this and becomes more comfortable showing love/emotions to her family). It was like a platonic slow-burn as she learns to understand Hector better - which is why this bit is my favourite because it's where she starts to really feel fond of him for the first time:

“Well, I'm just glad I'm a better teacher for him than watching old Ernesto De La Cruz movies.” Héctor had replied with a wry smile. “It's probably because I'm so much more handsome than that butt-chinned, over-the-top ham.”

“Because you're a pointy-chinned, over-the-top ham?” Elena replied, feeling surprising witty. She never made teasing jokes like this normally, but it was so easy with Héctor.

He looked mock-offended. “I'll have you know, my chin is wonderful and I've given it to several of your grandchildren, so there.”

If Elena was a different person, she probably would have pulled Héctor into a warm, laughing hug then. She might have told him seriously that Miguel had always been difficult for her. He felt things so strongly and got so upset and emotional – she'd always struggled with how to help him, how to calm him. Miguel was so happy now. She knew that was because of Héctor.

She might have told Héctor that he was at least six thousand times the musician, eight thousand times the teacher, and ten thousand times the man that Ernesto De La Cruz was.

But Elena was who she was.

Instead she said “Idiot,” and ruffled his stupidly messy hair rather fondly.

She told herself she wasn't warming to the fool musician, but she knew it was a lie.

GOOD BOY:

My current work. It's another platonic slow-burn, but this time set in the Cobra Kai universe with son and father pair - Robby Keene and Johnny Lawrence. In the show, these two characters have such a dysfunctional relationship that is so full of miscommunications and missed chances, and they genuinely want a better relationship (and it would be so healing for both of them! Do not get me started!) I lean much more into the magical realism in this story, as I turned Robby into a dog (Animal transformation - PIXAR's Brave style), so that he could immediately get the cuddles and easy affection he so clearly needs.... because I have never seen a more touch/affection-starved character aside from Zuko in ATLA.

This also gave Robby a chance to really understand, not only his father, but the other people in his cicrcle. He discovered he had a support network. He got to know he was loved by many. he got to witness the actions people would take as they searched for human-him (not knowing that he'd been turned into a dog). And it gave Johnny a chance to learn how to take care of something, feel needed, and express his love for his son without the weight of their complicated history/his own trauma hanging over him. It was hard to pick a favourite, but I will say the Johnny-stream-of-conciousness chapters are definitely the easiest/most fun to write. One of my favourite bits is in the first one, The queen of ice-cream runaway when Johnny tells Robby about when Laura (his grandmother) found out Shannon was pregnant and she was going to be a grandmother.

It's the first inkling Robby gets that while his father wasn't there for him and he was neglected a lot, Johnny did his best to keep the bad shit from his own childhood away from Robby as his own way of showing care. It hints at the deep and damaging abuse Johnny endured. When he finally had a say with his own kid, he would have done anything to protect Robby from feeling the same. I'd say here is where Robby really begins to warm to his Dad;

Then I told her our chosen name and she said I was a dumbass and Swayze was a terrible middle name, and we had to change it to some shit like Alastair or something. She thought he should have a rich sounding middle name. And I say Mom, Alastair sounds like some lame-ass insurance broker who upskirts his secretary and then cries as he jerks off to the pictures, what else you got? She thought Sebastian, and that was worse! What a pussy name.  Sebastian is going to be sitting in the little french patisserie cafe drinking the tiny-ass coffee for dolls and eating the éclair with his prissy finger tips. I already want to kick Sebastian's ass. Who wouldn’t? I’m not going to give my kid a name that is going to get his ass kicked.

And she couldn't talk, cause she named me after Johnny Cash, just cause she liked his music. And she couldn't think of a middle name at the time, so I didn't get one. Thank goodness. I could have ended up Johnny Alastair and had to kick my own ass.

So Swayze stayed.

Then she mentions how she and Sid can help out, so I didn't need to do the two jobs, stupidly long hours thing. And we need the money. I know we need the money. But my whole body froze and I just went No. None of that for little Robby Swayze. ...

... She’s going on about spending Sid’s money on Robby and I just...I can’t. I can't allow it. Cause I knew how he would be, and the way he would treat that kid. So I tell her, no thank you. Not a fucking cent mom.  Sid’s not getting to feel like he owns a hair on Robby’s head. That motherfucker can go jump. You thought we needed Sid’s money when I was a kid. You decided it was better for me, and that was your choice. I did not get a vote in that. But this is my kid, and this time it is my call, and I am choosing no. I’m not going to have Sid make my kid feel like he has to apologise for existing every day. I'm not going to have Sid treat my kid the way he treated me. I will never need money that badly. I will never put my kid through that. I'll work myself to the bone doing 20 hour days before that. I'll work on the 40th floor without a harness before that.  I will sell my fucking organs before it comes to that. Not a cent mom.

WORST PRISONER:

My 'what if Zuko made friends with the Gaang early on?" AU that then turned into a three-book long saga (and I will return to it, Worst Prisoner readers - Thank you for you patience). It does have evenutal Zutara, but the focus is really on the Gaang + Zuko as a whole, and all the interpersonal relationships. I'd say there is more gen-shipping around Zuko as a central character, as Iroh & Zuko, and Sokka & Zuko are both given equal prominence. in fact, all the friendships and familial relationships were equally important to me. (the book 3 Zuko & Azula stuff is so interesting, but it is ...less funny I guess.)

This fic is such a joy to write, and I really try and balance the humour with the bittersweet/sad parts, and one of the main sources of humor was the Sokka-Aang-Zuko -Katara qudrangle of dumbassery. I love the four of them together in book 1, and so many of their interactions were a hoot to write. But if I'd have to pick a favourite moment, it would be the moment in the deserter chapter in book 1, where they all decide to 'officially' be friends:

“Well, you can figure that out and find someone while I'm up in the Northern Water Tribe. Then when we finish up there, we'll come find you,” Aang offered.

“Really?” Zuko’s eyes were shining optimistically. It was a strange expression for him. Aang was so used to seeing him with a grumpy face.

“Really, I promise,” Aang said, feeling so glad that he could help Zuko go home.

“Yeah, I second that. If this means we won’t have to put up with you chasing us, I am in!” Sokka said. “Sheesh, you could have just asked ages ago!”

“You know, this means I was right,” Aang started to say, feeling very vindicated. The others looked at him curiously. “If we had just talked about friendship in the forest, we could have sorted this out weeks ago!”

“Boo, forest friendship!” Sokka said.

“Don't boo him,” Katara admonished, elbowing her brother.

“I agree with Sokka. There's no way I would have appreciated that speech weeks ago, Aang,” Zuko said.

Sokka smiled at Zuko for saying he agreed with him. It actually wasn't that rare of an occurrence, but it still seemed to surprise Sokka every time.

“See, Aang, forest friendship is bullshit,” Sokka said.

“I didn't say that!” Zuko cut in. “I just meant, maybe … I had to be dragged all over the Earth Kingdom by you guys ... and shot ... and taken to nonsense fortune tellers ... and I had to be forced to eat Sokka's truly terrible and disgusting cooking—”

“Oi!”

“—and I had listen to Aang lecture me about friendship and vegetarianism in the forest just so I could come here.” He looked around at the deserters’ camp site. “I dunno, maybe it was meant to be this way.”

“What are you saying? You want to be forest friends with Aang now?” Sokka asked accusingly.

“I mean, sure. If Aang will have me, we can be friends,” Zuko said, and looked uncertain.

“Yay! I knew you'd want to be my friend,” Aang said, feeling delighted.

He was so happy he had a Fire Nation friend again. Kuzon had been an amazing friend, even though he'd gotten Aang into so many sticky situations. He had already thought Zuko was his friend, but it was nice to make it official. Aang always knew the Fire Nation had good people in it too, and now he had been proven right. He jumped up and gave Zuko a huge hug.

#Emletish answers #Emletish writes #Fic: No Zombies #Fic: Good Boy #Fic: Worst Prisoner

[winterrose527]

and ok hmm on her morning run Ella finds that a dog (ahem matchmaker greywind) has followed her home

omg of course this has to be the first one I wrote! also I am sorry because this turned out longer than expected?

***

It had started as she’d taken the exit at the reservoir. That feeling of being followed. She had just kept running, because she had a far better chance of outrunning someone than she did fighting them off. She didn’t bother looking back, not wanting to risk stumbling, and she extended her legs further.

Usually she ran so that she didn’t have to feel guilty for eating ice cream every so often, or to clear her head, but her legs reminded her that they were good for this, too. Getting away.

It was foolish to run this early in the morning in the park. Even though there were all those op-eds about how it had been so gentrified with outdoor yoga classes and early morning kids play groups, she’d grown up knowing that you never went into the park at night. And a self-defense class she’d taken in college had told her that most assaults actually happened in the early morning.

So she was an idiot for doing it, but it had been such a beautiful morning and she’d woken with so much energy that she hadn’t been able to stop her feet from bringing her towards the green lushness. By nine o’clock it would have been too hot to run, so she’d set out at six.

She felt better as she exited the park. Shops were opening up, people were out walking their dogs. She could still feel it though, that sensation of being followed.

She turned her head quickly but didn’t see anyone so she kept running, turning right off of 5th avenue and heading east.

It was still there though. She reached into her armband and pulled out her keys, sticking them between her knuckles.

As the dark green awning of her apartment building came into view, Sid standing outside, she got the nerve and stopped running and turned around.

“Hey!” she shouted.

An old man across the street didn’t even look at her. It would take more than that to shock a long term New York City resident. Even if there was no one standing there for her to yell at.

Except, that wasn’t exactly true.

“Hey,” she said more softly, bending down.

A big grey dog, some sort of Husky mix maybe, approached her, his amber eyes looking into hers. She held her hand out and he sniffed it before his eyes closed and he rubbed his face against it.

“Hey,” she all but cooed now, crouching down and drawing him towards her, stroking his soft fur and ears, “Are you my stalker?” He made some sort of grunt in response and she felt around his neck for his tags. It was a grey tag darker than his fur and on one side it said Grey Wind. “Hello Grey Wind, I’m Myrcella.”

She turned the tag around and saw an address and a telephone number.

Grey Wind wasn’t wearing a leash and though he’d followed her long enough that she didn’t imagine he’d run away from her, she didn’t want to risk losing him either.

“Alright, come on you, let’s get inside and call your human,” she suggested.

As though that made very good sense he let her lead him by the collar towards her apartment building.

“They must be so worried about you,” she told him, unsure of why she was talking so much to this dog.

“New friend?” Sid greeted her.

“He followed me home,” she explained, “I’m just going to bring him upstairs while I call his owner.”

She had never looked into what her buildings rule was about pets, though she imagined that if there was a weight capacity Grey Wind far exceeded it.

“I saw nothing,” Sid smiled at her.

She smiled back, “Thanks Sid. Come on Grey Wind.”

Grey Wind looked at Sid who held open the door for him and then looked at her so she went inside and he followed. They went over to the elevator and she pressed the button for the eighth floor, grateful that no one else got in with them.

She led him to her apartment and brought him into the kitchen and filled a bowl of water and put it on the floor for him.

Once he’d had some to drink she looked at his tag again and dialed the number.

“Hello?” someone answered on the first ring.

“Hi, you don’t know me, but I’m Myrcella Baratheon and I think I have your dog?” she offered stupidly.

“Oh thank god,” the man said, “He just took off like nothing I’ve ever seen before, I’ve been all over the neighborhood. Is he alright?”

Myrcella glanced at Grey Wind who had rolled over onto his side and lifted his front paw to give her access to his belly.

“Um,” she couldn’t help but laugh, “Don’t be offended but he doesn’t seem as shaken up as you are.”

The man chuckled, “Of course not. I can come get him, where are you?”

In addition to being warned from going into the park at night, she’d also understood from a young age that you never gave your address to a stranger. There was something about Grey Wind’s amber eyes though and the concern in this guy’s voice that made it seem somehow less stupid.

“168 East 94th Street,” she said, “Just call this number when you get here and I’ll bring him down.”

“That’s funny,” he said, “I’m 168 West 94th Street.”

“Only in New York…,” she said that phrase that encompassed everything from a random party taking place at a taco truck or someone peeing right next to you as you ate outside at a five star restaurant.

“I’ll be right over,” he told her, “And I’m Robb Stark, by the way, and… thank you.”

“See you soon,” she said.

She hung up and poured herself a glass of water, sipping it as she sat on the floor with Grey Wind. He laid his head in her lap and let her scratch behind his ears.

“I should have kept you a little longer,” she told him and then thought about the panic in Robb’s voice, “But then your Daddy might have really lost it. What were you doing, running away from him?”

Grey Wind looked up at her, almost like he was trying to tell her something and though she didn’t know what it was, she scratched underneath his chin.

In what had to be record time, her phone buzzed.

“Hi, Robb, are you here? I’ll be right down,” she said.

“Um, actually, your doorman sent me up,” he told her, “But uh, I totally get it if that’s weird, I mean I’ve basically warned my sisters never to open their doors to a strange man and actually maybe your doorman shouldn’t be doing this job but uhmm… I am outside your apartment.”

There was no way that Sid had let him up, it had to have been one of the other guys. Sid didn’t even let her grandfather up without her express permission.

“Oh, that’s um.. okay I’ll be right there,” she said.

She hung up and got off of her floor and Grey Wind followed her. Stangely, even though he was Robb’s dog and therefore his loyalty would be to him, she felt better about opening the door with him at her side.

When she did, her first thought stupidly, was that she wished that she’d showered. Her second thought was that whichever doorman had let him up was getting a huge Christmas bonus.

She took advantage of his attention being on his dog and checked her appearance in the mirror above the little table in her foyer. She brushed a few strands of hair off of her forehead and was glad that she’d chosen her light blue exercise shorts and matching tank top for her run.

“What were you thinking, buddy?” Robb asked as Grey Wind threaded through his legs, his tail smacking against the doorframe he was so excited to see him. Robb finally looked at her and then something passed over his gorgeous blue eyes and he nodded down at Grey Wind, “Okay, I get it now.”

“Hi,” she greeted him.

“Hi,” he smiled at her. “I’m so sorry about all of this.”

“That’s alright,” she waved him off, “He’s a sweetie pie.”

“I’m glad he was a good boy,” Robb said and then held out his hand, “I’m Robb Stark, which you knew already.”

“Myrcella Baratheon,” she shook his large one, feeling her fingertips tingling.

He looked down at where their hands met and released hers, his fingers trailing over her palm as he did.

“Um, so, since you already gave him a run, I have a bit of time before work,” Robb joked and she smiled. His eyes wandered over her face and he gestured behind him, “Can I buy you a coffee… as a thank you?”

“Oh I’m sort of a mess,” she demurred.

His eyes looked over her, “This is you as a mess?”

She blushed, “Not a stage five or anything,” he smiled and she felt something in her stomach, “But I can make us coffee here… if you want to come in.”

“Yeah?” he asked hopefully.

She nodded, “You’re not like a murderer or anything are you?”

“I am not a murderer,” he agreed, “But I’m a little torn here.”

“Oh…” she nodded.

He shook his head, “No, no it’s just that one part of my brain is like this gorgeous girl just offered you coffee, you take it. If she offers you horse manure, you take it. And then the other part of me, the part that has two younger sisters is wanting me to tell you not to invite me in.”

She nodded, “It’s the second one,” his eyebrows raised, “The second voice in your head? He’s the one I’m inviting in.”

He grinned, “Well, both of them would be delighted.”

“Come on in,” she said, opening her door wider to accommodate his broad shoulders, “Grey Wind can lead the way.”

His dog did just that and she followed them into her kitchen, which gave her a great view of Robb’s butt in his shorts and his muscular back in his t-shirt.

“This is a great place,” he told her.

“Thank you,” she smiled, “I’ve lived in the city my whole life but I’ve been here about a year, have you been in the city long?”

“Just about six months,” he answered.

She went over to her counter and nodded, “That makes sense.” He looked at her questioningly and she explained, “You’re still nice.”

“What’s your excuse?” he asked.

She shrugged, “Haven’t figured it out yet.” Then she gestured to her counter, “So I can make us French Press or if you prefer a cappuccino or latte…”

“I’d like to say I’m easy, but I’d really love a cappuccino if it’s not too much trouble,” he admitted.

“It’s no trouble at all, please sit,” she suggested and went about making their coffees.

She made his cappuccino first and then made herself a vanilla latte and brought them over to the table and handed him his.

They heard sirens go by as they sipped their coffee, but it was New York City so neither them nor Grey Wind thought much of it.

She learned that he was from Vermont, the oldest of five. That his sister Sansa was working at a fancy boutique in Soho and that he worked as a VC, but focused on giving opportunities to entrepreneurs from more marginalized groups.

She told him that she’d been raised a couple blocks west and fifteen blocks south, that her bedroom growing up had a view of the Met and that when she was six she’d decided she was going to run away there and live in one of the historical rooms. She told him that she had two brothers but that neither of them lived in the city anymore and that she worked for a publishing house and had just taken on her own authors for the first time.

When he finished his cappuccino she offered him another which he accepted but didn’t drink.

“I try not to drink more than one cup in a morning,” he told her when he noticed her looking.

“Oh,” she said, “Then…”

“I wasn’t ready to go,” he admitted.

She felt a blush rise on her cheeks but found the gumption to ask, “Will you think I’m terribly forward if I told you that you don’t need to make up an excuse to be here?”

“No,” he said, “But it’ll make it a lot easier to ask you to have dinner with me tonight.”

“Robb,” she smiled, “You don’t need to make up an excuse to be here.”

“Myrcella,” he grinned, “Will you have dinner with me tonight?”

She was about to answer when both of their phones flashed. They both picked them up off the table and she saw that it was just a Neighborhood Watch notification.

Robb was reading his and she saw the color drain from his face, so she looked down.

Attack in Central Park at 6:45 AM, victim is female, age 26 and has been taken to the hospital to address her injuries.

“Were you…” he started.

“Yeah…” she agreed.

They both looked down at Grey Wind who was sprawled underneath the table, touching each of their feet.

“Maybe somewhere outside?” she asked, “That allows dogs.”

Robb nodded, “I know a place. We’ll come pick you up at 7.”

She smiled, trying to get her heart rate to return to normal, and said, “I have lived in this city my whole life. I don’t need an escort, I just won’t run in the park in the morning anymore.”

He looked at her like he wanted to say something, and then his blue eyes softened, “Just looking for an excuse to get more time with you.”

And just like that, her heart steadied.

“You don’t need an excuse.”

#fanfiction #modern au #robbcella #as a general rule #do not do anything that myrcella did in this fic #unless of course it's Robb Stark #and then you do whatever you have to

[missfangirll]

Mended

Part 2 of Snapped. I still have no excuses. For @fan-man-huaisang

Shen Wei sat upright in bed, leaning against the headboard and stared at the opposite wall. He hadn’t been able to sleep all night and he sure wasn’t starting now, when Zhao Yunlan had turned his back to him and was snoring softly.

Shen Wei didn’t dare to breathe. He had gone to bed alone, Zhao Yunlan still furious, rightly so, and somewhere outside to walk things off. He had come to bed eventually, but… Shen Wei exhaled carefully. This was so wrong. He needed Zhao Yunlan, needed him opening bleary eyes in the morning, pleading with him to sleep in. He needed him in the late morning sun, when he sat at their breakfast table, playing with his phone, the light illuminating his bed head like a messy halo. He needed him at sunset, when he watched the fading light in Zhao Yunlan’s face over his own book, until it was too dark to read and Zhao Yunlan laughed and switched a light on. He needed him at night, when he could hear nothing but their hearts beating as one. He needed Zhao Yunlan. And he needed to make this right.

“I can hear you thinking, you know?”

Shen Wei started at the voice.

“Yunlan, I…”, he began, but Zhao Yunlan turned around to fix him with a stare that made every apology he had thought of wither on his tongue.

After a silence that Shen Wei felt lasted at least a year, Zhao Yunlan cleared his throat. “Alright.” He took a deep breath. “Explain.”

Shen Wei wilted further, but squared his shoulders slightly and nodded. At least he owed him that.

“Well,” he began. “do you remember when Ye Zun came to the SID, pretending to be me?”

It had been a rhetorical question and Zhao Yunlan just snorted slightly and kept staring, seemingly unimpressed. Shen Wei soldiered on.

“For weeks after this I had nightmares”, he confessed. “Nightmares where you would be not you, but Ye Zun or Zhu Jiu. The dreams started like ordinary days, but you kept behaving increasingly strange, until you would pull off a mask and reveal another’s face.”

Shen Wei shuddered at the memory and Zhao Yunlan, after a short hesitation, put his hand on Shen Wei’s chest.

“It was awful”, he admitted, “seeing you again and again shedding your skin like a Snake Yashou, until-”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” Zhao Yunlan sounded both angry and deeply concerned.

“I… I didn’t want to bother you. We had so much to do after my brother’s death and the dreams faded, after a while, so I thought it was alright.”

“Well, apparently it wasn’t.”

“No, apparently not.” Shen Wei nodded miserably.

“So,” Zhao Yunlan said after a while, “when you came home yesterday and saw me…” He trailed off and looked inquiringly at Shen Wei.

Shen Wei cleared his throat. “I saw you in strange clothing doing strange things and it was my nightmare all over. I saw everything we have fought for, everything we have almost died for in danger, and I…..” He inhaled sharply. “I….snapped.”

“You did, didn’t you.” Zhao Yunlan’s tone was lighter and Shen Wei risked a look. Zhao Yunlan smirked at him.

“I have to admit, it was confusing to be manhandled by your dark energy without knowing why, but it was also very hot.”

“Yunlan!”

“I’m serious!” Zhao Yunlan rolled over Shen Wei and pinned him to the bed, the look in his eyes now intense. “It was hot, don’t get me wrong, but I never want to experience that again.”

“Yunlan, I never-”

“Good. Because”, he grinned again, “I definitely need compensation for that experience.”

“Comp-”

“You have to make it up to me, Shen Wei!”

“Make it-”

“Yes.”

Zhao Yunlan seemed determined to not let Shen Wei finish his sentences. He was still on top of him, Shen Wei realised with a completely different kind of start, still grinning dangerously.

He settled more comfortably into the sheets and looked up at Zhao Yunlan. “How?”

Zhao Yunlan grinned even wider and grabbed his shoulders, rolling them both over.

*

It was very late in the morning when Shen Wei tried to carefully broach the topic again. They were nestled together in the sheets, sweaty and very content, as Shen Wei pressed a kiss to Zhao Yunlan’s forehead.

“I am sorry.”

“I know you are, baobei. But you had your reasons, I suppose. Don’t mention it anymore.”

“But”, Shen Wei tried again, “I can never again go to the SID. The way I acted…”

Zhao Yunlan snickered. Shen Wei felt his face redden and turned to hide in Zhao Yunlan’s shoulder.

“Never!”, he groaned, while Zhao Yunlan was shaking with suppressed laughter.

“But have you”, he wheezed, “have you seen Da Qing’s face? And Lao Chu’s?”

Shen Wei shook his head. “I was too concerned about you.”, he muffled into Zhao Yunlan’s neck.

Zhao Yunlan leaned back a bit to study his face, still tears in his eyes, but his tone more solemn.

“I know, baobei. I’m sorry you had to go through this”, he waved a hand indistinctly at everything and nothing, “alone.”

Shen Wei wasn’t sure what he had done in his previous life to get someone like Zhao Yunlan, but this was not the time to look a gift horse in the mouth. He leaned forward and kissed Zhao Yunlan, trying to convey everything he was feeling.

After a while, Zhao Yunlan broke the kiss and looked at Shen Wei, mirth back in his eyes.

“I mean, we could tell the team you were drunk?”

Shen Wei groaned and let his face fall back into Zhao Yunlan’s neck.

#镇魂 guardian #guardian #zhen hun #Shen Wei #zhao yunlan #weilan #fluff #crack #crack treated seriously #my writing