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bepis-boii · 3 years ago

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✨❤️‍🔥Exclusive Interview with The Rejects’ guitarist, producer, and lead singer — Cynthia (formerly Cyborg Noodle) ❤️‍🔥✨

Interviewer: Hello there, Ms. Cyborg Noodle. How are you?

Cynthia: Oh, I don’t go by that name anymore.

I: Oh. My apologies, I wasn’t informed. What do you go by now?

C: Don’t worry about it too much, you didn’t know. I get that a lot anyway. I’ve been going by Cynthia more recently. Don’t know if I’ll keep it just yet but my friends seem to like it so maybe I might.

I: Well, it is a very pretty name. Anyway, shall we get started?

C: Yes, let’s.

I: Okay, first of all, let’s go back to the beginning. Tell us how you came up with The Rejects. How did this all start?

C: That’s kind of a loaded question, isn’t it? [laughs] Well, after my swift departure from Gorillaz back in 2010 thanks to Murdoc (that bastard) abandoning ship as it were, I floated along the open sea for several years. I pretty much shut down completely after the first three. Couldn’t tell you how I even managed to be alive for so long without power or spare parts, though. Guess if I were to thank my creator for one thing, it’d have to be a long-lasting battery life. Anyway, when I woke up, I realized I had washed up onto U.S soil. Well, more specifically a landfill, which in hindsight was pretty ironic. But regardless, I was saved by man who lived there alone. Apparently, he gave me some spare parts that were there as well as his vocal cords just so I could live. I had never met anybody who was filled with so much compassion for a stranger before. Then again, I was never shown much compassion in my decade long existence. So he became my friend almost instantly. We lived on that landfill for years until we managed to fix up a beat up 2003 Pacifica and we drove that across the country. Through that journey, we basically came up with the name ourselves. We both realized that were just projects that were thrown away by our creators. Nobody wanted us because we were associated with memories that people just wanted to forget. Thus, "The Rejects“ were born and the rest is history.

(Poster from their first concert at the Demon Dayz Festival LA 2018 before being subsequently canceled due to technical difficulties)

I: Fascinating... do you think that last statement still applies now to the current state of your band, now that there's four of you?

C: Oh definitely. Maybe not in the same sense, but it we still find comfort in each other that way. We've grown comfortable with the uncomfortable, so to speak. We're people who don't fit into a defined label and we very much like it that way.

I: That’s all very inspiring to hear. Going back to some things you said earlier; it sounds like you have some contempt for what happened to you during your time with Gorillaz. So tell me, how did the temporary Gorillaz bassist, Ace D. Copular get into the picture?

C: I had no idea Ace was involved with Gorillaz during the time we met him. In fact, me and Lenny weren’t intending to add a new member since we were pretty content in doing all the music ourselves. But he gave us a place to stay in his duplex when we visited Townsville and he had some really great skills on bass, so we just invited him on. He originally was just a manager for our shows but eventually he started doing bass with us and we had a really fun time. We didn’t find out that he used to be a part of Gorillaz until 2-D came along. Like, when we moved in initially, we were pretty worried about rent but he assured us that he would pay it all himself since he got — in his words, not mine, ”a substantial pay raise thanks to [his] latest gig” and we didn’t realize his little ”gig” was working with Gorillaz until we met his new boy-toy. (No offense, ’D) Wouldn’t call that a gig with a band as big as them but to each their own, I guess.

I: Well, what about 2-D? How did he end up joining The Rejects?

C: Well, he’s a different story. I was pretty reluctant for him to join originally. Not because I associated him with what happened to me, of course. In fact, I see him as a victim more than anything else. I admit it. I did some fucked up shit to him back then. I mean, I was programmed to do those things by Murdoc at the time but I still perpetuated the cycle of abuse on that island. In my mind, it was my fault that I didn’t do anything to prevent it from continuing. I don’t know if it was truly me or the bullet hole that I gained on my head during my time on Plastic Beach, but seeing him being broken bit by bit as we held him captive… That made me develop a concious. Seeing him change so vividly before my eyes and replaying those moments in what was left in my memory banks made me question what role I was meant to play in this world. Was being some bodyguard; unfeeling, stagnant, all that I was meant for? What more could I accomplish in life without needing the aid of a gun? It was very eye-opening experience for me. When I met 2-D again, I was more afraid that I could potentially hurt him again. I didn’t expect him to forgive me, I just hoped he and the rest of Gorillaz were doing better without me in the picture. But to my surprise, he forgave me. I thought it would’ve been satisfying to hear but it still felt unearned. I still feel that way a little bit, if I’m honest. I was just glad to know that he was living a happier life than before. I’m sure you’ll talk all about his journey with him but if I can say one thing in defense for him. The man deserves a happy ending after all the shit he’s been through.

I: Hmm… Good to know. Let’s switch this conversation up a bit. How would you describe your music now compared to when you were starting out in early 2017?

C: I’d say there’s been a huge tonal shift compared to what me and Lenny were making before and what all of us are making now. That’s partly due to 2-D’s expertise in production. I don’t know how a veteran like him could improve so much since The Now Now but really, it’s almost surreal to see him work. People like to say he’s dumb but sometimes I highly doubt that. Creatively, that man is a genius. I’m completely serious. I will admit, we’ve always taken on a more folk, indie rock aesthetic. It feels so long ago now since we’ve done something like that. We’ve strayed so far from original sound that it’s kinda funny to think about. Is it bad to cringe at your own music? Nah, nah, nah. I’m kidding. We might try to go back to it at some point. We still like that kind of music but I’m not sure how we can implement it with the way were are now. Might have to figure that out at some point. As to what I’d say our sound is now, I’d say we have a… I don’t know? Like a, uhh… we’re still pretty indie but I guess more electronica, maybe? Hyperpop? [laughs awkwardly] I don’t know! We’ve evolved so far beyond from what we used to produce that I don’t even know what genre we would fall into anymore. [laughs]

(Cynthia and 2D at Studio 13 in London) I: [laughs] Well, before you worry too much about that. Tell us what it’s like working in a roomful of men. Does it ever get chaotic?

C: Well, yeah it gets chaotic but we’re all a little chaotic in together so, to me, it all evens out. I mean, if you’re asking if I’m bothered by working with a bunch of guys then, no. We're all friends and nothing more. I know that for some people, seeing a female lead with all male bandmates can be a little... I dunno, "intimidating" for lack of a better word? I feel like women have always had this complicated relationship in the music industry when it comes to expressing themselves. There's always this air of tension whenever we try to talk about what we go through. Our identity, our struggles, femininity, sexuality; just whatever... We're constantly being scrutinized by the media whether we talk to little or too much about our thoughts. So when some see a woman with multiple guys, they just think that she's a mouthpiece for them. Not that she has her own life or is her own person that isn't solely defined by the men in her life and doesn't need protection from the world. I like to think we should be above that mindset now. That's why I don't necessarily see this as just "my band" even though I'm the lead. At the end of the day, it's all of our thoughts collectively. Whenever I write songs about myself and the shit that I went through, I make sure to sing it. No one else gets to talk about my experiences except for me, the guys just help bring those emotions to the surface. Sorry, didn't mean to make that a long rant, I just wanted to get that off my chest.

I: Oh, you're completely fine. Now, aside from that. When should we expect new music from the Rejects?

C: Something soon hopefully. We don’t have an official release date but just expect something. This is going to be our first EP with our new members at the helm, so I’m really excited to see how our fans react.

I: I think we talked about some interesting stuff today but before we go, we do have one final question from a fan on Instagram.

C: Oh really? Sweet! Fire away.

I: From @katy.ward.8494, "What's your relationship like with Murdoc?"

C: Oh, uh… I don't talk to him anymore. I've cut contact with him a long time ago. I try not to talk about him but y’know… that reminds me of something. Murdoc, if you just so happen to be reading this, I just want you to know. I’m not going anywhere so suck on my nads you sick fu—

I: And that’s it for our interview with Ms. Cynthia from The Rejects! Tune in next time for our interview with producer and keyboardist, Stuart “2D” Pot where we’ll talk about his journey from Gorillaz to now.

#gorillaz #2d gorillaz #cyborg noodle #ace d copular #lenny #the rejects #fan project #gorillaz fanart #fan interview #murdoc #murdoc niccals

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princessjungeun · 3 years ago

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Hey Beautiful: Jennie x Reader

Request: Hii :) i have a request for jennie x femreader, where the reader is a famous idol and Jennie has a crush on her. They attend the same award show and at the end when they are backstage the reader asks Jennie for her number. Then they go on a date or something just cute stuff (fluff i guess😅)

A/N: I’ll write a continuation of this if you’d like for the date part :D

Awards show season was in full swing and you were to attend the MAMAs tonight. It was your first time attending without a date, usually your best friend tagged along but she was working the night shift at her job so she couldn’t make it.

You were already in your dress and your glam team was getting your hair and makeup done before you were to leave. This had been going on for hours and you were simply exhausted and hungry, the only thing keeping you going was knowing that you’d be seeing some friends of yours later in the evening.

It took two hours but eventually your hair and makeup were finished and you were cleared to leave. Your manager sat across from you in the car, a smile on his face as she teasingly asked, “so anyone you’re excited to meet in particular?”

You knew exactly what he meant, there was one person that had showed an interest in meeting you for months, Kim Jennie. To be honest when she said she was your fan in an interview, you were a little surprised. Despite being one of the most popular female soloists at the time, you were still shocked when you heard artists you looked up to liked you.

Jennie in particular had mentioned on many occasions that you were her ideal type and she’d date you if she had the chance. Blinks and your fans shipped the two of you heavily as well. Most of the time you hated when you were shipped with people you never met because it made for uncomfortable times when you actually did happen to meet them. It’d happened in the past when people shipped you with a popular member of a boy group, he was to produce a song with you. However with all of the shipping flying around, you didn’t want to risk you or him getting involved in a scandal that would just add fuel to the fire. But with Jennie you entertained it, saying you’d date her too and she was your ideal type as well. Fans had been praying for an interaction for the longest and you knew you two were probably going to cross paths tonight.

Once you’d walked the red carpet and avoided falling on your face, you were escorted inside to find your seat. The idols on the plus couch across from you were TWICE, the girls greeted you warmly, especially Nayeon who happened to be a close friend of yours.

She scooted closer to you, and started catching you up on everything that had happened in the past month because you two hadn’t talked in a bit. You were both performing tonight, she wasn’t nervous whereas you were for the first time.

Before Nayeon got up she nudged you gently, using her head to point you towards a familiar idol. You squinted, having forgotten your contacts at home, you realized it was Jennie, sitting with her members and talking to them. Nayeon stated, “I’m gonna call her over.”

You panicked, “No no, not yet. Don’t call her over- Nayeon I sweat to god-” YOur friend only laughed, waving the girl down and mouthing to her from afar. You froze, trying to look everywhere but at Jennie, this was not how you wanted to meet her for the first time. Giving up, you hid your face in Nayeon’s shoulder, your face beet red as you laughed, the rest of Twice laughing and teasing you playfully.

Nayeon patted your head, “she’s gone.”

You peeked from her shoulder to make sure she was serious and not playing a prank, and she was. Jennie was now talking to Irene, facing the other direction and not paying you any mind.

Nayeon told you, “you’re gonna need to work on that. She also said you’re cute...you missed it while you were hiding.”

You smacked her shoulder and said, “I wouldn’t have had to hide if you just left her alone in the first place Nay. That was so embarrassing please never put me through that traumatizing experience again.” She sighed and said “okay fine, but you should talk to her before the night ends. She really does like you.”

Nayeon scooted back towards her members and you focused straight ahead for the stage. As performances went on and awards were given out, you felt your heart race knowing that your big performance was coming up.

A staff came and got you from your seat to escort you backstage during a break. Your manager was already in your dressing room with your stylist, both of them getting everything you need for your performance. Your dancers were warming up as well in a corner.

You changed and start to warm up your vocals as well as your body, it was a new song and a new choreography which you’d never performed in front of such a large audience. The dance break was what you were most worried about because you hadn’t had a lot to time to practice in your shoes so you were afraid of messing up and hurting yourself.

Your manager noticed the look on your face, “Hey don’t be nervous. Everyone in that crowd is your fan. You could go out there and just breathe into the mic and everyone would still lose their shit. So go out there and do your thing, I’ll be watching from in here. You’ll do great, stop worrying babe.” He always knew the right thing to say, he was like your best friend and soulmate all at the same time.

You hugged him, “Thank you, I’ll meet you back in here when I’m done.”

The dancers pulled you into a huddle, putting your hands together you all yelled, “1-2-lets get it.” You all broke and made your way towards the stage where a staff last minute checked your IEMs and mic to make sure they were working.

You took a deep breath before making your way to the stage, the lights dimmed before the song started. Looking at your dancer they gave you a subtle nod, and smile giving you the last bit of confidence that you needed.

During your performance all of your nerves melted away. You hit every note and move perfectly, gaining a huge reaction for the audience. The deafening sound of fans and other idols cheering you on only made your confidence rise, and it showed throughout your performance. When you were done almost everyone was standing up, even the idols as they cheered for you.

After you were off of the stage you pulled your IEMs and mic pack off, handing them to your manager so you could go and change once more. Your second outfit was different, more elegant yet subtle. You changed your shoes to a pair of sneakers, relived that you could finally get out of heels.

As your stylist touched up your makeup and hair you remembered that Blackpink was preforming in a bit. You wondered if you’d see Jennie back here, Nayeon did mention that she would probably be here when you got off the stage.

Your questions were answered on the way back out to the audience because you ran into Jennie. The woman was passing you, looking down at her phone as she was walking.

She looked up from the device to bow as she walked by, “Oh! Y/N hey!” she beamed as she tucked her phone in her back pocket. Although she knew she had to be somewhere she didn’t care, she wasn’t going to miss her opportunity

You looked her over and tried to not let your eyes linger on her very toned abs for a second too long. She told you sweetly, “you did amazing earlier, you looked stunning.”

Heat rushed to your cheeks the longer she looked into your eyes, you stuttered out, “t-thanks...you’re going to kill it out there, more than me definitely.”

Just as she was about to respond Jisoo called down the hall for her, waving her over with a clearly impatient manager.

Jennie quickly turned to you and asked, “hey, I know this is the first time we met but can I have your number? Maybe we could go out sometime?” Her hand rested comfortably on your arm, a subtle touch that still made your heart burst inside.

You nodded, “yeah, sure. I’d really like that.” Quickly she whipped out her phone and you put in your number, saving your name with a red heart emoji.

Jennie smiled, “I’ll text you later.”

You told her with a shy smile, “okay, good luck out there.”

Jennie kissed your cheek, “thanks beautiful, i’ll see you out there.” She walked past you and to her members and managers who were waiting for her.

You touched your cheek and smiled before following a staff member that was to take you back to your seat. When you got back Nayeon took one look at you before bursting out laughing. You frowned, “what?”

Your friend replied, “run into Jennie did you?”

You asked, shocked at how she already knew, “wha- how did you know?”

Nayeon swiped her thumb over your cheek a few times before pulling away, showing you the faint lipstick stained on her skin, “She isn’t exactly the most subtle.”

You poked Nayeon’s neck with a smirk, “Well turns out you and Jeongyeon aren’t either, Nay.” Her face flushed red as she pulled the collar of her top up and brushed her hair around her neck, you let out a laugh earning a slap on the arm from her. The two of you went back and forth playfully until the lights dimmed indicating Blackpink coming on to perform.

You watched intently as the girls performed Lovesick Girls, Jennie staring at you as she sang that last part, winking in your direction as she made the heart gesture with her hands. You couldn’t help but smile back at her, trying to hold back how flustered the simple gesture.

At the end of the night you were finally home and able to check your phone and as promised, Jennie did reach out to you. The message read:

Unknown Number: Hey beautiful, I’m sorry I couldn’t see you more tonight. But I can make it up to you by taking you to that new art exhibition downtown. Are you free next Saturday?

You typed back quickly, not caring if it made you look desperate or like you were watching your phone: Don’t apologize, nights like these are hectic and unpredictable. I am free and I’m more than happy to go, thank you <3

You quickly updated her contact to Jennie and broke into a happy dance when she told you what time she’d come pick you up. You’d been dying to check out the art exhibition since you found out it was coming to town but tickets sold out before you could get the chance. So not only were you going on a date with your crush, but also to check out what you’d been dying to see for weeks.

You flopped onto your bed and sighed, relieved that the day was finally over and that you were able to end it on a positive note.

#kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #blackpink imagines #blackpink scenarios #blackpink jennie

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jeoseungsaja · 2 years ago

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"...And that's why the parrot is listed as a witness, not evidence." Or so Suki says after a long-winded tale about how the defense attorney of a particular case from years ago cross-examined a parrot and that ended up being the reason the court discovered the prosecutor of the same case was responsible for another murder....that and she's managed to fold the entire stack of recycled paper Detective Lee generously collected for her into not only paper parrots but also a birdhouse, complete a feeding bowl and whatnot." She tilts her head, but not before eying his collection of manila envelopes. "Does that mean you'll be in charge of interviewing the parrot then, Detective?" ( hi Alex!! you get...another thing from suki :D hope this is okay and if not, you're more than welcomed to skip!! pls have a wonderful day and care you lots <3 )

@kamipyre ♚ 🦜🦜🔎🔎

♔ ———–

Strange things don’t cease to exist in the LAPD. Ever since he set foot upon the precinct, he hasn’t stopped learning rare tales or traditions that go around the area, all of these anecdotes coming from no other but Forensic Scientist and Origami Machine, Suki Nakamura. First, he found out that everyone around here is utterly accustomed to find their paperwork in the shape of different origami figures due to Miss Nakamura’s prowess (he’s still...getting used to it; tension continues to gather upon his jaw whenever he finds a new set of important formats intricately folded atop his desk), then, the tales about the woman with the whip (Von Karma, was it?), along with other stories regarding spirit mediums and frenzied plots.

Now...this. A case being solved thanks to a parrot’s confession.

Sure, he’s heard that desperate times call for desperate measures, but in all his years of being a detective, this is the first time he hears something like this. Nevertheless, he supposes he shouldn’t be too surprised, considering the amount of oddities that happen here. And he thought Gangnam Police Station was crazy enough---

Then again, if one considers it deeply, it’s not a...completely insane idea. Animals have proven to be useful in several cases, haven’t they? Police find aid in the cleverness and sharp senses of sniffer dogs and he also remembers a case where cat’s hair was found under the culprit’s fingernails, the hair matching the cat which used to be the victim’s. Bluntly disregarding the participation of pets when it comes to solving cases would be quite baseless, especially when feeling this contribution could be boldly useful to unlock the truth.

So, a parrot...well, he can’t fully imagine the multi-colored bird taking the podium and suddenly yapping about the last words they were able to pick up from someone nearby. But it’s not impossible, is it?

“I’ve been told that parrots mimic human speech, especially if particular words are repeated more than once.”

He’s been told by no other but his best friend, Patrick, during a conversation they had about pigeons, ducks and birds in general. Hyuk definitely tries to remember everything and anything his dear friend shares with him.

“So, I guess it makes sense, as to why the parrot would be listed as a witness. I just hope none of you wanted to dress the parrot with formal clothing to attend the trial. Something tells me some of you are ridiculous enough to request that.”

Brown eyes stare at the way dexterous hands bend and turn the paper over, her fingers creating a whole set in the blink of an eye. The detective is silently impressed by her skills; brows rising lightly to express admiration that he doesn’t tend to show vocally (not often, at least). It seems that gifting her recycled paper distracts her from snatching official paperwork...though it runs out way too fast for his liking and sometimes he doesn’t even know where to collect sheets she can freely use anymore.

There was one time he took a hold of a whole stack of paper menus from a local ramen restaurant (which wasn’t that great, by the way) to place them in the bin of recycled paper --- that alone only lasted two days. Two. And that’s a lot, considering Nakamura’s itching fingers.

“Me? In charge of---I should send you instead, in my name. You seem to be more familiarized with parrot interviewing than I do.”

God, what did he get himself into? Would he consider it? Interviewing a parrot for the sake of solving a case? Anything to unveil the truth, right?

Hyuk’s gaze narrows. He can see that look in her eyes; view aimed at manila folders. The detective sighs; longish fingers fetching a few empty folders. He slides them Nakamura’s way.

“At least make something else with these. You already made Parrotland over there.”

Hyuk nods at the paper parrots with the birdhouse and feeding bowl.

“Do you do this all the time when you speak about cases? Make origami based on their key elements? Like a printing machine, but you print the information in origami form.”

———– ♔

#kamipyre #♔ || verse three.#♔ || how can they say paper wings are feeble when yours are the strongest i've ever seen (nakamura).#I'M CRYING IWUEDHAKSHDIWUEHD #couldn't help but imagine Hyuk sitting down on the interrogation table and sighing loudly as the parrot's feetsies are attached to the #opposite chair IUEWHDKASHDIUWEHDUIEH #BUT I MEAN IF IT'S IMPORTANT FOR THE CASE.....HE'D DO IT #then he'd tell Patrick about it (wHEEZE)#BUT ALSO I ADORE HOW??? Suki is just casually telling her this story while she does origami I LOVE HER #Hyuk slowly but surely getting accustomed to the bizarre stories of the LAPD #😂😂😂😂😂😂😂#AND JUST THEM??? HAVING CONVERSATIONS LIKE THESE?? SOLVING CASES BUT LOWKEY BONDING ;WWWWW;#FERRE!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR SENDING THIS IN 😊 I ABSOLUTELY SMILED WHEN I SAW IT IN MY INBOX IWHEDIUWEHD #THIS IS MORE THAN OKAY PLS ALWAYS FEEL MORE THAN FREE TO SEND THINGS MY WAY FROM ANY BLOGS UwU!!!#I MIGHT BE SLOW BUT I'M ALWAYS EXCITED TO REPLY TO THEM ALL :D #I HOPE MY REPLY'S OKAY BUT!! IF YOU'D LIKE ME TO CHANGE ANYTHING ABSOLUTELY LET ME KNOW C:#PLS HAVE A FANTASTIC DAY AND CARE YOU HEAPS!!!!!!! <3 #♔ || queue.

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byulsgrease · 3 years ago

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if you arent too busy, can you write a idol!hwasa x idol!reader, wherein they both have to practice with each other for a special stage. However on the first meeting they become starstruck and cant believe somethings are real, but soon warm up to each other?

i'm not terribly busy but this still took a while anyway oops - sorry this took so long anon! here you go :D

if anyone has requests for the other members hmu cuz I've got 2 more hyejin reqs after this one (not that I'm complaining)

"who says we can't do something on our own?"

(hwasa x idol!reader, ~1.2k words)

cw: food + alcohol mention (y'all know how it is)

I named someone Minjeong - it's not Aespa's Winter, idk anything about 4th gen gg's - 민정 is my Korean name so it's just what came to mind

"Hey, wake up. You've gotta see this. GET UP," a voice piercing through the fog of your sleep.

What a rude awakening. Your shoulders being shaken vigorously by a pair of small hands meant they belonged to none other than Minjeong, your youngest group member. You rolled over to glare menacingly at her with one eye open, trying to pull your brain out of the slumber. All you could see was the bright light of her phone shining in your eyes - a video of some kind. But then you heard the audio:

"Have you seen the clip?" asked the interviewer.

"Yes, my members and many MooMoos made sure I saw it"— Moos? Oh, it's Hwasa. WAIT. Both your eyes flew open as you sat up and snatched Jeongie's phone out of her hand to stare at the video. Your mind immediately flashed back to the interview you did last week - they asked who you most wanted to collaborate with, if there were no limitations. Your ears started to heat up at the sheer thought of the flustered mess of an answer you gave - of course you said Hwasa. Both of you debuted relatively close to each other, within a year, but never interacted much over the years. Mamamoo as a group was a force to be reckoned with, but there was just something about Hwasa specifically. You mostly just admired her unique singing voice and undeniable stage presence, and her relentless drive to always be herself in an industry constantly trying to fit women into a box.

Finally snapping out of re-living that embarrassment, your attention turned back to the phone in your hand. The interviewer must've asked her to send a message in response to you, because you couldn't believe that she was waving and saying, "How haven't we gotten to know each other better over all these years? I'd love to work with you on something sometime," curtly dipping her head in a slight bow.

"SEE? You needed to see that," Minjeong rushed to say, full of energy. "And close your mouth, your jaw's on the floor," jokingly pointing.

You side-eyed her and shut your mouth. "Is this what Loco felt like when she called him during Hyena on the Keyboard?" you wondered aloud.

"At least she's not calling you while on camera," she commented, knowing full well that you'd probably embarrass yourself again if she did. "But hey, at least she noticed you! Can I have my phone back now?" It would be a dream come true to collaborate with her, but cross-company collabs... always a pain. that couldn't be helped. The fantasy abruptly ended with demands from your rumbling stomach. Done with your what-if's, you placed the phone back in your maknae's outstretched hand to get up and make breakfast.

~~~~

With award show season rolling around, the crazy scramble of rehearsing for special live stages without leaking sets and collabs began. Checking your email that morning showed a schedule to record the backing track for a special live stage, but that was it. With who? You texted your members a screenshot, but they all told you that block of time in their schedule was empty. A solo stage? The solo mini-album you released this cycle did relatively well, the title track got a music show win, but not a multi-week chart-topper by any means. Possibilities turning over in your mind, you stepped out from your place to head to the company, totally in the dark about what was in store.

The recording studio always smelled the same along with the couches, a comfort for all the insanely long nights and crack-of-dawn early mornings over the years. With a bit of time to kill, you plopped down on one and gingerly patted the worn cushions as some kind of symbolic thank-you for supporting you (literally).

A hesitant but loud knock sent your gaze directly to the door. Watching it slowly open, you leaned forward to see who it was. Needless to say, your jaw fell to the floor again as you clapped a hand over your gaping mouth, eyes widening. Like a soldier obeying a command, you immediately stood up as straight as possible and bowed profusely at Hwasa, sporting a very similar expression on her face (which you failed to notice, your mind running a million miles a minute).

After a series of frantic bows and miscellaneous utterances to each other, she spoke. "It's nice to finally meet you," she said with calm, surveying your frenzied state. "I guess we're granting that collab wish from your interview, huh?"

The red-hot embarrassment leapt to your face. "I...I definitely made a fool of myself answering that question. And our maknae showed me your interview clip too, which was cool, but never did I think it would actually happen," you stammered. I should probably stop talking.

"Well, here I am," she half-smiled coolly. "Let's get started, I'm really looking forward to finally work with you on this," a gleam in her eye and a hint of excitement in her voice.

The studio suddenly felt a lot smaller with her in it, despite there only being your managers, the producer, and the both of you - less people than you and your members alone. Both of you remained relatively quiet the whole time, rather unsure of what to say or talk about. You watched enough MMMTV to know that all the members on their own were shyer than together, and Hwasa knew the same was true for you. But the work basically took care of itself, seamlessly taking turns in the recording booth, witnessing each other's work style and process. The both of you knew your way in front of a mic, seasoned professionals by now. Upon wrapping up, you bowed politely to each other after a quick exchange of KaTalk info, a short and sweet goodbye.

That was... anticlimactic. I mean, it's finally happening - I can't believe it. But maybe I was too idealistic about maybe creating a meaningful relationship with her outside of work... What does she think of me?

~~~~

In the days leading up to the collab stage, you kept going back and forth on whether to reach out or not, despite now being in possession of her contact info. What would you even say? Thoughts of a witty one-liner or relatable meme came to mind, but maybe she'd assume the worst - that you were clout-chasing, or something. Anxieties abuzz, your phone vibrated in your pocket. The KaTalk notification sprawled across your screen. Speak of the devil, it's her.

"Hey, awards season has me stressed. I know you must pretty busy right now too, but I somehow get off early tomorrow if you wanna grab dinner after work?" You had to reread that one. Oh, what? She's inviting me?

Trying not to be weird about responding too quickly, you typed out, "Wow, yeah, that sounds great! ^^ wait, your company doesn't care about you going out to eat during award season?"

"nah, they stopped having that kind of control over us a while ago, we are the money-maker of the company, after all 😏"

"so I guess this means they don't check your phone either ㅋㅋㅋ"

"nope :)"

You proceeded to set a time and place to meet, someplace with meat.

In the process of feasting on an inordinate amount of gopchang imbued with a splash of beer, you learned a fair amount about each other. You talked career, professional aspirations, the weird habits of your members, and more. What surprised you most was the amount of things she already knew about you, having admitted to watching some of your behind-the-scenes content after seeing your interview clip.

"Ah... I'm sorry if I came across as distant during that first recording session," she confessed, pausing to sip her beer. "I honestly didn't know what to do with myself, I felt a little star-struck."

"Oh what?? I felt the exact same, so no worries - and sorry if I came off similarly distant," you rambled back. A bit of silence fell between you, acknowledging the mutual sentiment. You spoke up after a bit, "Thanks for inviting me out tonight, I didn't realize how much I needed this."

"Thank you for making the time, I had fun getting to know you better," she articulated with a smile. "Maybe it'll make the collab stage better," she added on jokingly. You responded with a nod and expression of mutual affirmation.

~~~~

After that, messaging each other became a regular occurrence, that gopchang outing having broken the ice. Honestly, you tried your best to talk about anything besides work, but the baseline of shared understanding connected you in a way that came more naturally than it did with your non idol friends.

You stood across the way from her at the sound check for the final stage, dressed in joggers and slides. Funny to think that you'd be recording this for real in a couple hours, making eyes with the blinking red light on the cameras surrounding you. It sucks that fans wouldn't get to experience the energy and atmosphere of the performance - Hyejin alone is one thing, but adding someone else into her stage presence? Unmatched. There's nothing quite like a live performance - and while you knew everyone in the industry dealt with the consequences of the pandemic, it certainly took a toll to perform and not feel the energy from fans. But realistically, nothing you could do about it. The sound check went over smooth like butter. The stage chemistry came flowing naturally between you both, even when bare-faced and dressed in just sweats.

And when the time came for the actual filming, you both absolutely killed it, an upbeat mash-up of TWIT and your title track. At the very end came a sliver of hesitation before throwing your arms around each other with a big smile for the ending fairy, proud of the work you accomplished together, and a mental fist-pump to yourself for making friends with one of the industry's finest.

Once again walking to a restaurant that served mostly meat to celebrate, you playfully proposed, "We... should do that again sometime." A little puff of air came out her nose in amusement.

"Yeah, we should. Too bad we're gonna have to wait a whole cycle before we can release anything else together again," she sighed longingly.

"Who says we can't do something on our own?"

#did not know how to end oops #mamamoo x reader #hwasa x reader #mamamoo hwasa #ahn hyejin #hwasa fanfic #hwasa imagines #hwasa #mamamoo fic #mamamoo imagines #mamamoo scenarios #girl group fanfic #girl group imagines #girl group scenarios #kpop #kpop fic #gg fic #gg fanfic #requested

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accioecho · 3 years ago

Photo

Lee Da Hee for GQ Korea

"Everything becomes memories in the end. You should always strive to have a positive energy."

Feel free to share this translated interview! Though I would appreciate if you could credit me by linking back to this blog or tagging me on Twitter ^_^

GQ: But... uh, why do you look so happy? You’re looking at me with such a happy expression that I don’t know what to do right now.

LDH: Hahaha. No but if I kept listening with a blank expression, I would come off as cold looking. And you would go: “Are you in a bad mood?” So I try to smile more. Otherwise I would come off as cold looking.

GQ: That’s quite a big difference. I got startled when you pulled a straight face.

LDH: Right, it looks like I’m angry. But I’m not, so this is why I try to smile more. If I don’t smile like this, people tend to think I’m cranky. Of course when I get angry, I have a temper, but I’m not usually like that.

LDH: And it goes both ways, it’s easier for me to open up to someone if that person is smiling instead of sporting an expressionless face.

GQ: You were laughing/smiling so brightly that I was kind of hypnotized.

LDH: Hahaha

GQ: When you appeared in the drama “Beauty Inside”, you weren’t the typical villain wearing a red lipstick but were the kind of villain to wear a new, nude shade.

LDH: Ohh, that’s a very nice way to put it.

GQ: Really?

LDH: A nude tone villain. This is the first time I’m hearing this expression, I like it. Yes, up until then, secondary female characters usually tried to win someone’s heart or because they lacked attention and love, they tended to bother the female lead. But “Beauty Inside” was different. It was a different kind of role. I played a villain but my character wasn’t hateful. She had her own convictions and that’s why she was so interesting.

GQ: Kang Sara was that kind of character, played by Lee Da Hee.

LDH: This is why I didn’t want to play the typical secondary character, the typical second female lead. Yes she was given a fancy background but I also wanted to try something new, something different. Not something that could be shown through strong makeup, I wanted to add a layer of depth to her style.

GQ: I think we could feel the difference hence why it was so interesting. It was obvious that you studied this role a lot and this perfected style has stuck to you, the actress.

LDH: Well, first of all, I find it fun to radically search for something new. In a way that doesn’t stand out too much, while still being faithful to the character, I try to bring out the best of what I can do. Back when I was younger, I had no clue about all that so I just did what I was told to do. As I matured, I discovered what were my weaknesses, what to cover/hide etc. For example, you might think that I’m skinny, and that all my clothes fit me well. But I have a big bone structure so clothes don’t fit all that easily. But because I know this about me, I’m able to adapt, know how to find the right clothes to try to keep looking pretty. Thanks to the GQ photoshoot, I got to try out this colorful mascara for the first time. And it’s so much fun. As I experience new things one by one, I’m able to see what’s right for me and what’s not.

GQ: It might be insensitive/rude to say this to an actress who has a career spanning 20 years, but I feel like the name Lee Da Hee has become clearer to me since “Beauty Inside”.

LDH: No it’s not insensitive. I’m really thankful that you remember me from that role. No matter how recent the drama is, the point is that you remember me because I left you a good impression. I really appreciate it. To be honest, a lot of people remember me from my role in Beauty Inside. People actually think I didn’t play in many projects before that.

GQ: But you did consistently star in various projects.

LDH: Yes, but I guess they weren’t memorable roles. I don’t think I played characters that stayed in people’s minds. Beyond the character and the role in itself. A drama can be loved by a lot of people, but beyond that, when I watch a show as a viewer, there are some actors that leave a deep impression in the way they play their characters. I wonder if I lacked that kind of aspect. I kept thinking to myself that maybe there was something missing in my acting that didn’t leave a memorable impression.

GQ: You left quite a strong impression after playing roles like Kang Sara in Beauty Inside and Cha Hyeon in Search: WWW. But more recently in LUCA: the beginning, I feel like you shed that strong image. If you found a type of role that fit you, you could have just kept on playing the same kind of characters, but it looks like you’re not afraid to radically change your image.

LDH: You’re right, I wanted to do something different. I wanted to show a different side, something that differed from the bright roles I usually played. After Beauty Inside and Search: www, I was afraid of being type casted. I didn’t want people to think I always played the same kind of roles. But I think I was was too confident when I chose to play in LUCA. I thought I could do anything.

GQ: You thought you could do anything but it didn’t turn out this way?

LDH: Even my mom thought the same thing. That it wasn’t a really good fit. In a few words, she thought my acting felt a bit forced. Hahaha. That it didn’t really flow well. The main takeaway is that I tried something different. If it turns out to be a good fit, then it’s good and if it doesn’t, it means I can just find something that does.

GQ: Your mother sounds like the type of person who doesn’t mince her words.

LDH: My mom is very level headed. Just by looking at my back, she can tell if I was focused or thinking about something else. I spent a lot of time with my mom, even more so than with friends, and I also cried a lot in front of her. If I ask her “Mom, what’s wrong with me”, she’ll tell me not to think these kind of thoughts, that whatever I’m thinking is not true. We had a lot of moments like that.

GQ: You looked so cheerful today that I didn’t think you could also have rough times.

LDH: Why wouldn’t I? I went through times of depression when I would think, “Am I charismatic enough?”, “Do I lack something as an actress?”. There were times when my self-esteem was very low.

Since I’m tall, I used to have Directors who always said “you don’t match, you don’t match” (with fellow actors). Since I couldn’t do anything about my height, I thought that I could at least work on my body, make myself smaller. So I worked really hard on my diet. I used to eat rice cake soup that my mom used to make using beef broth, once every day. My mom followed along and did the diets with me. Every time. You can guess what kind of mom she is, right? I used to say: “Mom, should we at least drink soju since we only had one meal today?” And we’d share a bottle.

GQ: Hahaha, I see that you don’t hide your positive energy.

LDH: Everything becomes memories in the end. You should always strive to have a positive energy. And try not to think negatively. This way, you can find more motivation when an opportunity comes along, and this is also how more opportunities come up. I know that if I don’t love myself, I’ll end up being depressed and have a low self-esteem. So starting with myself, I also try to be nice to everyone, to compliment them. Let’s not be hurtful, and let’s try not to say mean things. I try to tell myself I’m a good person, and I project that to others as well. Let’s be nice to each other. Let’s be someone that gives off a good energy.

GQ: Why did you hurt your knee?

LDH: Ah, this? (Points to her left knee). I rode one of those electric scooters and fell as I tried to avoid an electric pole.

GQ: It must have hurt a lot if you fell while riding it.

LDH: I’m okay now. It was a bit concerning at first, but I’m just glad I didn’t hurt my face. It’s too bad I fell while riding it for the first time, but I wanted to try it so I learned my lesson now. I don’t even look at the scooters now. I know they’re too dangerous for me.

GQ: You made a very decisive conclusion based on your experience.

LDH: Yes, I should never try to ride a scooter again.

GQ: I also see a scar on your neck. Do you fall often?

LDH: Hahaha. No, I was washing a necklace. It’s a necklace made with my grandmother’s ring but the edge is a bit sharp. I got scratched while washing it a bit hastily.

GQ: Did you grow up under your grandmother’s care?

LDH: No I didn’t... actually both of my grandparents died in a car accident. They were so healthy so I thought they would live for a long time, but they suddenly passed away. When I didn’t work for a while, they used to say “When are you going to make money”, or “how long are you planning to live like that, without earning any money for your mom and dad”. It hurt me sometimes. But whenever I appeared on tv, they were the first ones to watch, and they always asked me when I would be on TV, on which channel... and when the time came, they always made sure to turn the tv on and watch my shows, and whenever we met, they told me they were proud of me, holding my hands and hugging me. I always think about these times. I miss them. Very much.

GQ: This is very moving. I believe these emotions and feelings make who you are.

LDH: I might sound like a crazy person, hahahah, but I have a picture of my grandma and grandpa next to my bed, and I always speak to them: “Grandma, I’m back”. If I’m upset about something, I say “Grandma, this thing just happened and this is so hard. I miss you.” - that’s how I cope and move on. This is how I try my best everyday. It makes me focus on what’s important. My family, tomorrow (the future) and all the things I love.

#lee da hee #이다희 #gq korea #kdrama #search www #the beauty inside #i love her i love her i love her

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whereisten · 4 years ago

Text

True Love

A Jeno fic that’s a part of our Halloween Series!

Summary: You, an employee at an entertainment company, are immune to the charms of their biggest star Lee Jeno.

Pairing: Rockstar! Jeno x female reader

Genre: romance, drama, fantasy, suspense

Warning: alcohol use, smut mention, stalking, manipulation

Word Count: 4.3k

(A/N: Hiya! I’m so sorry for the delay! It’s been so hectic lol! Thank you so much for your support and patience! Hope you enjoy! And shoutout to Krys for keeping me sane and for all of her love and support. I love you! :D)

___

To everyone in the world, Lee Jeno was the epitome of perfection and rock royalty. He was a gifted musician from the very young age of five, having specialized in several instruments in his childhood. However, his heart gravitated to the guitar. He became a trainee at LCF Entertainment and along with four other trainees, they became the world famous rock band, Temptation.

He was ranked in the top 23 in World Magazine’s Sexiest Men Alive this year. He was a walking and talking Adonis with a heartwarming smile.

Jeno was a man of many talents but he certainly didn’t let it get to his head. He was a humanitarian, a UNICEF ambassador, fostered shelter animals, was the proud owner of three cats even though he was allergic, a great family man (funding his siblings’ college tuition and providing for his parents so they could retire early), etc. He did it all and he had it all.

How could anyone be immune to his charms?

People wondered who would be the queen that would reign beside him when he settled down. Frankly, one couldn’t be anything short of a supermodel on the verge of sainthood. So many hopeful contenders were discouraged from pursuing him.

Jeno’s dating life was non-existent, the paparazzi dreaded to inform.

But you were an employee of LCF Entertainment so you knew the truth, as well as the true nature of the famous Lee Jeno. He was basically like any other young man with an inflated ego. He was cocky, a huge flirt when the cameras were off, very picky, and demanding. But no one ever dared speak a word of his true nature to the paparazzi. And you always wondered why. Someone had to bring him down a few pegs.

You were the staff photographer and videographer, in charge of capturing Jeno’s good and “relatable but still unbelievably glamorous” sides. When the camera was on, that was when you felt at ease.

It didn’t help that Jeno liked you either. Although you’d been working with Temptation and the individual members for a few years now, it was only recently that Jeno really was set on it pursuing you.

When you switched off the camera after the recording of Jeno’s backstage vlog, he sat comfortably at his makeup chair and proceeded to ask, “Y/n, will you go out with me now?”

You answered immediately, “No.”

Jeno gave you a sad puppy dog face. “Why not?”

“We’ve gone over this. I would get fired.” You wanted to spare his feelings so that was what you always said when he asked you out.

Jeno groaned. “You would not. I wouldn’t let that happen.”

You snorted. “You think you have that kind of power, Lee?”

He liked when you called him by his last name. “That’s because I do have that power, y/n. The new company building is funded solely out of my earnings from my last solo album.”

You whistled. “There’s that humility I’m always reading about in O!What Magazine…”

Jeno smiled. “You read articles about me?”

“I do when my name is in the article, boss.” You started packing up your equipment, ready to call it a day and head home.

Jeno got out of his chair and stood over you. He smelled of Dior Sauvage, cologne from his latest brand endorsement. He wore his stage clothes from his solo concert rehearsal. A sleeveless jean jacket top that parted down the middle to show his abs. Along his abs, silver chains dangled and added a nice glimmer effect when he was on stage. The entire team was thrilled to see how the audience would eat it up.

He whispered into your ear, “Y/n.”

Truthfully? He was attractive. You’d always had a little crush on him but it was of a shallow nature. You liked him for his looks. Not so much for his personality. You’d known too much.

If Jeno had been any other regular guy, you would’ve been open to a one-night stand.

But Jeno wasn’t just any regular guy.

You tried to hide the fact that shivers ran down your spine. “Stop.”

He chuckled. “But I can see you through the reflection, y/n...You're crossing your legs…”

You’d hoped he wasn’t that perceptive but it turned out he was. You hid away the fact that you were turned on. Your panties were damp but you’d be damned if he ever knew that.

You met Jeno’s perfectly lined eyes as he looked at you unapologetically. Everyone else from the staff already left. Jeno’s manager was waiting downstairs to take him to the radio station J-423 for his upcoming interview.

You were breathless now. “Jeno, you’re going to be late-”

He pulled you into him and kissed you, easily slipping his tongue into your mouth and working magic against yours. You couldn’t help but return his kiss. His mouth was paradise and you wondered what else he could do with it.

He let you go after a few minutes and cupped your face. “So are you going to deny that there’s something going on here?”

You tried to catch your breath as you wiped your lipstick off of Jeno’s mouth. “No, I guess not...But this is where it stops.”

Jeno frowned. “Y/n…”

“I know where I stand. And you know it, too. And Jeno, I don’t like you that way...I’m sorry.” You caressed his face and grabbed your things, leaving Jeno with an unreadable expression on his face.

___

As a member of LCF Entertainment, your ultimate goal was profit. That was what you had to know from the very beginning. There was no such thing as LCF Family or truly prioritizing the idols. Everyone was after themselves. Whoever brought the most money to the company would get the most attention and special treatment. And that was Jeno.

And you, an aspiring film director, were thankful to be on his team because this experience could open doors for you in the future as a director. Sure, Jeno was a diva and he couldn’t stop flirting with you, but the experience wasn’t all that bad. And yeah it was frustrating that the media and the public perceived Jeno to be the nation’s sweetheart. But in the end, he wasn’t hurting anyone.

He was only hurting people’s wallets.

Temptation’s merchandise always sold out quickly but Jeno’s individual merch was always the first to sell out. And it was the first to get resold for twice and sometimes even triple the price. The fanbase was very merciless and selfish with each other. However, the scalpers were the true evil. That was less money going to your company, after all.

Even though frontman Jeno was the most popular member of Temptation, it was Temptation’s drummer Xiaojun that you had a massive crush on for a long time now. You even accumulated a secret collection of his merch. You were two photocards away from completing your Xiaojun album photocard collection.

Xiaojun even admitted to liking you back but you both kept it a secret from everyone else in the world, especially LCF. You two weren’t about to compromise your jobs. However, since Temptation was the biggest moneymaker in the game and the boys had been with the company for quite some time now, their dating ban was lifted.

Which explained why Jeno had been asking you out all week, not caring who listened and it freaked you out.

If Jeno’s fans ever found out he asked you out, they would pin the blame on you.

A week had passed since you told Jeno you weren’t interested in him. You felt bad for hurting him but you were also worried about his mood. He had the power to get you dismissed. You refused to believe he would be so cruel.

And up until this point, you were right. You were still employed and Jeno spoke with you like any other day, talking about camera angles and new concepts for upcoming shoots.

The end of another work week and Xiaojun surprises you on your way to the bus stop.

“Y/n,” Xiaojun pulls up beside you in his Porsche. He looked so elegant in a pale blue sweater and blue jeans. His face was concealed by a mask so he could leave undetected. But you’d recognized those eyebrows anywhere.

“Hey. What are you doing here?”

“I...I think we should finally talk…”

“About?”

He smiled. “About dating.”

You nearly dropped your phone out of your hand from the shock. “Really?”

He said, “Get in so I can drive you home!”

You nodded fervently and got into his passenger seat. Was this really happening?

On the drive home, Xiaojun told you he wanted to take it slow and have indoor dates with you first. You couldn’t agree more. He even surprised you with a brand new pair of AirPods after you told him that your brother took them from you.

The first of many gifts, he told you.

You got home that night and screamed excitedly into your pillow so as not to frighten your roommates

___

It has been a month since you and Xiaojun started seeing each other. You were on cloud nine. He would visit you at your apartment and would play with his dog Bella. Bella loved you a little more than she loved Xiaojun so you two would always bicker and end the night in each other’s arms.

Jeno noticed the spring in your step as you filmed his cooking vlog. He was showing his fans how he cooked breakfast for himself when he had down time. He was in a plain white T-shirt and a pair of drawstring trousers. He looked relaxed and for many, delectable, as his hair was wet from a shower. He was trying very hard to get your attention once again.

He anticipated you averting your eyes and stuttering at the sight of him but nothing. You whistled while you adjusted the tripod’s position.

“What’s got you so happy?” Jeno asked.

You nearly jumped at his question. You decided to be upfront. “I’m seeing Xiaojun.”

Jeno’s cool facade nearly cracked before your very eyes. “Oh?”

You apologized. “I’m sorry, Jeno. I should’ve told you that I liked Xiaojun…”

Jeno was furious. What the hell did Xiaojun have that he didn’t? Jeno was more muscular, taller, more talented, wealthier, more attractive...He was superior to Jeno in every way and everyone else knew it, too.

He honed his acting skills and replied evenly, “Why are you apologizing, y/n? So you like someone else...I’ll live.”

You realized maybe Jeno didn’t like you as much as you thought so you felt relieved to hear his dismissive tone. “Right. Good. I just...thought you should know…”

You and Jeno continued the shoot. He acted like nothing had happened and even behind the scenes, he joked with you and asked you which of the female trainees he should ask out. You berated him because female trainees were not allowed to date and he knew this very well. Jeno was back to his arrogant self and you were relieved.

___

You got a text from Xiaojun that he was finishing up a filming schedule with his bandmates. You wouldn’t be able to see him today because the schedule was running overtime.

He told you to go to dinner with some friends at Osaka Moon. His treat. He was good friends with the chef, apparently. You were on your way to the restaurant to meet your friends.

You were shocked at how down-to-earth Xiaojun still was after achieving so much fame and then he would do things like this. It gave you whiplash but you were having the time of your life with him.

However, you noticed him across the street. Xiaojun always wore different wigs and masks for his disguised outings with you.

But this time, there were no disguises. His side swept blonde hair and his thin framed glasses. There was no mistaking that it was him.

Was the filming for the show at the Downtown Hotel?

You were about to call his name when you saw another woman wrap her arms around him and squeeze his ass. She had long wavy brown hair and a slender frame. She could’ve been a model or a singer. They both entered the expensive hotel. Very bold of him to take her out so publicly when he was still intent on hiding you.

You felt like someone knocked the breath out of you. You shook your head in disbelief.

Immediately, you dialed Xiaojun’s number and there was no answer. You called four more times and nothing.

Son of a bitch, you thought.

He played you. You should’ve known he was no different than any other dickhead A-lister.

You decided to call his bandmates. It turned out that the filming they’d done today wrapped up over two hours ago.

Haechan had no idea where he was. Jisung didn’t either. Jaemin was equally perplexed. Last but not least you called Jeno.

He answered. “Hello?”

At this point, you couldn’t hold back your tears anymore. “Jeno…”

“Y/n? What’s wrong?”

“Do you know where Xiaojun is?”

“Not specifically...he did mention he had a reservation at the Downtown Hotel…”

You sniffled. “He did?”

“I thought he was meeting you…”

“No, he wasn’t…”

“Oh...Oh, shit, y/n. I am so-“

“It’s okay...Thanks Jeno. I’ll see you on Monday…”

You told your friends to have dinner without you and to make sure to spare no expense because your so-called boyfriend was buying. You told them Xiaojun finished at the last minute and wanted to take you dancing.

A total lie so you could wallow at your local bar.

You sat right by the bar and downed a few glasses of beer. Just to feel anything else besides the betrayal you felt.

A half hour later, you were even more buzzed now. A young man sat beside you at the counter.

He started, “Hello, gorgeous.”

You looked at the young man. He was stunning. Another face that belonged on television. Another one of those who was capable of seducing you and tossing you away the very next second.

You flipped the bird. “Bite me.”

The young man scoffed and tried again, “Feisty, aren’t we?”

He got closer to you and you began to feel uncomfortable. “Please leave me alone…”

“Tsk tsk. A beautiful girl like you in tears? You need someone who will bring your smile back.”

“And you’re the man for that job?” Someone interrupted.

You were shocked to find Jeno here. He looked gorgeous in a black leather jacket and dark jeans. His hair was slicked back the way you liked it most and wow, you may have had one too many drinks...A few customers recognized Jeno and started whispering and taking their cameras out.

“Jeno?” You nearly lost your balance as you got up from your chair.

Jeno grabbed you immediately before the other guy could.

The stranger said, “Why do you get to put your hands on her? Just cause you're some pretty boy with mediocre music...I’m sure she’s nothing compared to who you’ve bedded before-“

Jeno socked him in the face and escorted you out of the bar. The stranger cursed you both out as you left. Jeno led you quickly into his manager’s car that he borrowed for the night. You felt a little dizzy.

Jeno fastened your seatbelt.

You smiled at him. “Thanks.”

He looked at you in concern. “Are you okay?”

You shook your head. “Why are men scum, Jeno?”

Jeno sighed. “I’m so sorry about-“

“Don’t say his name...I...never want to see him again...God, now I have to sell all of his merch…”

Jeno frowned in confusion and continued, “I’ll take you home…”

You didn’t want to face your roommates. “No...Can I…Spend the night with you?”

It took all of Jeno’s might not to get out his car and raise his fist in the air. But he composed himself. “Are you sure?”

You nodded, wanting to forget all about Xiaojun and have one thoughtless night with Jeno. “Yes.”

Jeno drove you two to his penthouse suite. He was cautious around you and you were ready to shrug away your inhibitions.

Jeno helped you remove your coat at the entrance. “Take a seat. I’ll get you some water.”

You sat yourself on the couch and opened your legs wide, exposing your panties underneath your skirt. “Jeno, fuck me right now so I can forget his sorry ass.”

Jeno hesitated then but seeing how irresistible you were...He couldn’t help himself.

He asked again. “Are you sure?”

You nodded. You were buzzed but not that buzzed. You wanted to spite Xiaojun. You wanted to acknowledge the part of you that longed for Jeno for so long, too. You’d be stupid to deny that you fantasized about a night with him.

You hesitated before but now you said, why the hell not?

You and Jeno made love that night. Jeno was over the moon that you were finally in his arms. Sure it was a rebound but the look in your eyes when he was inside you had to mean something. There was a promise there and Jeno held onto that glimmer of hope.

Jeno took you home the next day and he was very cool about the whole night. Right before you returned home. you reminded him about how this was a one night stand and thanked him for a wonderful night.

You were resolute in dumping Xiaojun and simply going back to work. Thankful you only ever worked for Jeno anyway. And as expected, Jeno was his usual self: cocky, flirty, sending his food back for random reasons.

Xiaojun came under the fire for going to a hotel with a potential prostitute. The identity of the woman he was seen with remained a mystery. He tried convincing everyone that the woman was not a prostitute but he couldn’t remember how he met her or what she looked like. That night and along with how crazy Xiaojun sounded caused the company to encourage him to leave. Xiaojun’s contract with LCF Entertainment was terminated.

The week after you and Jeno made love...You started catching feelings for him. Every glance. Every fleeting touch. It drove you mad. And suddenly that one night stand was something you wanted again. And again. And again.

You accompanied Jeno and his manager as he attended a gallery opening. You were in charge of his photos for his social media. He looked extremely dapper in his red suit. You just wanted to rip his clothes off and make love to him in front of all of the guests. Becoming a work of art yourselves.

These thoughts you’ve been having used to scare you but now...you owned them. Tonight, when you got him alone, you would tell him how you really felt. You hoped you weren’t too late.

Jeno’s manager excused himself to get some refreshments. Jeno observed a painting while you took some more photos.

“Stunning,” you said aloud.

Jeno’s eyes grew at your words. “Wow, y/n...All the years we’ve worked together and you’ve never made a comment about my looks…”

Your face grew warm then. “I’m feeling a little bolder these days…”

He grinned. “Is that so?”

“Jeno, I won’t beat around the bush…I haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night…”

“Y/n…”

“I know I said it was a one night stand and...You’ve moved on…”

Jeno started, “I haven’t…”

You were shocked to hear it. “Really?”

He moved closer to you and moved the camera away from your line of sight. “What are you saying, y/n?” His voice was dangerously low.

“I’m saying...that I want to be with you, Jeno.”

Jeno’s smile looked so gorgeous then. He was the true work of art at the gallery. “Well, y/n, I’ve made my feelings abundantly clear for a while now…”

He kissed you then. And the cameras started flashing.

You were on cloud nine. You finally released your suppressed feelings for the rockstar before you.

___

You’ve been together for two years now. He made you feel safe and loved. He showered you with gifts and trips to the most beautiful parts of the world.

As for the response from netizens and the company? Jeno had all the power and he could handle a few naysayers. Your job as his photographer and videographer remained intact. And you were well on your way to transitioning to your own film projects: your dream.

You and Jeno had become a couple to root for. They called you The Prince and The Pauper Turned Princess. You hated your label but whenever you looked at Jeno’s eyes, any anxiety or anger quickly faded.

Jeno had a solo performance in your city tonight and you were seated in a private booth. He was performing so well, moving from instrument to instrument. Driving people to tears with his long low notes. And then he surprised everyone with his announcement.

“Before I perform ‘Changed Your Mind’, I want to give a shout-out to the woman of my dreams, y/n, who is here with us tonight.”

The stadium roared in excitement and many heads turned to you. Your eyes never left Jeno.

“Y/n, I love you so much. We’ve come so far, baby. And I want us to never stop. Which is why…”

He got down from the stage and was escorted by security down to the crowd. He ran his hands past adoring fans as he made his way to you.

He entered your booth with his camera crew and security close by. “Y/n, will you marry me?”

You cried out, “Yes!”

Jeno picked you up and spun you around. You kissed passionately. The crowd’s roars thundered now. It was a celebration. You didn’t care that all eyes were on you now, as well. All you cared about was Jeno. And he loved you more than anything else in the world.

You truly found your soulmate and you couldn’t be happier.

___

Jeno finished his show and was backstage cooling down with a bottle of water.

“Good job tonight,” a woman said as she stood at the door of Jeno’s dressing room.

“Thank you, sis. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Jeno’s older sister Yeeun sat on the couch of the dressing room. “How does it feel to have her in your clutches now?”

Jeno smirked. “Pretty damn great.”

“And I’m here to collect my payment, little brother.”

Jeno sighed. “Really? It’s been two years.”

Yeeun looked at her manicured nails. “I’ve been busy.”

Jeno laughed. “Screwing over taken men? I’m sorry, I meant screwing taken men?”

“Nope. That task was a one-and-done deal. How is that poor boy doing these days?”

“Xiaojun? He’s back at school getting his master’s...He’s happy.”

“Has he tried to contact y/n since then?” Yeeun asked.

Jeno chuckled. “No. Why would he?”

She smiled at him. “They were sweet together. And you tore them apart because you couldn’t take no for an answer, could you?”

Jeno rolled his eyes. “And what about it? I have a right to get whatever I want. Do you know who I am?”

Yeeun sighed. “Yes, you repeatedly tell the family group chat who you are every week. And we all take it because you pay us well…”

Jeno and Yeeun had conspired against you and Xiaojun. Jeno stole Xiaojun’s phone and Yeeun charmed Xiaojun to join her for a night at the hotel. Jeno planned for you to go to Osaka Moon so you could see Xiaojun and Yeeun together.

Jeno watched you as you broke down in tears, calling each of his bandmates. He made sure he was far enough away by the time you called him. He played the part of a concerned friend very well. He had to take up acting, another field he would surely dominate. And with you as his director? It made him hard just thinking about it.

Jeno didn’t coincidentally find you at the bar. He’d been tailing and that stranger who hit on you was only an added bonus. Jeno could play the unsuspecting hero and you would eat it up. And that you did. He was satisfied to know that you wanted to sleep with him. He didn’t care about being a rebound.

Even so, he wasn’t going to take any chances. So after you left his penthouse the next morning, he took the bedsheets you came on and the strands of hair you left behind and got to work.

Did you really think Jeno amassed such success and wealth all on his own? He had a little help from his family and their friends from Hell, of course. Jeno’s family came from a long line of Satan-worshipping witches. Jeno was the youngest of the descendants.

Human sacrifice was only a small token of the Lee family’s appreciation to Lucifer. So Jeno’s deception of Xiaojun was almost nothing in the list of gruesome things Jeno has done to reach the top of his game.

Yeeun was able to literally charm Xiaojun with her own special concoction. Once she and Xiaojun had sex, she wiped his memory of that hour and left him alone at the hotel. Confused. Disoriented. Worried.

As for you? Well, you were the most irresistible creature in this world. Your immunity to his charms was only the first step in his growing feelings for you. You were brilliant and talented at your craft, always capturing his best features on camera. You were gorgeous. He was surprised you didn’t become an idol at LCF yourself. You were warm and sweet and giving. Even if the company was cutthroat, he saw how you’d be with your coworkers and the other idols. You were just a pure, loving girl. And he desperately needed you. Desired you. Craved you.

He simply had to call you his.

With your samples, he was able to create the perfect spell to make you his.

Forever.

That was what Jeno called true love.

[Fin]

513 notes · View notes

not-me-simping-for-blasty · 4 years ago

Text

I Melt With You - Bakugou Katsuki

All Parts

Part 5:

When you wake up the next morning, your blankets are folded. They’re folded and piled neatly next to rearranged pillows, not even a crease left in your couch cushions from where he’d slept. It’s like he was never even there in the first place, but then you walk into your kitchen. There’s a muffin sitting on your counter, a note attached on top of it’s plastic container.

Your couch is fucking shitty, but thanks I guess. I only bought you this so you don’t complain. I don’t owe you shit, leech.

It’s a strange sort of fondness that eclispes you then, so faint that you almost don’t even catch it. You never thought you’d have a soft spot for anything Bakugou did- but you figure leech isn’t so bad. Way better than witch or any of the other names he’d called you anyway.

You remove the note, popping open the plastic lid. The muffin’s long gone cold, but you figured that was about right; Bakugou did seem the type to be fussy about rising early. Still, you tear away the paper, smiling while you take a bite, chewing and-

Bran.

Bakugou bought you a bran muffin.

Suddenly, and you’re sure it must be brain damage, but you feel a little warmer than before. You spit out the disgusting muffin with an exasperated laugh, wondering just where the hell he even managed to buy such an abomination.

—//—

A few weeks later, you’re locking the back door behind you, once again stepping into the street. You see him the second you turn around, clad in costume and leaning against the wall. You can’t really see his face well in the low light, but no shadows could hide those red eyes you’d come to know.

There’s that weird sensation again, a subtle warmth settling in your chest at the sight of him. You’d been feeling it for weeks now, this strange pride overcoming you every time you’d seen him succeed. Whether it was on the news or on magazines, or even in commericials, you felt a strange peace at seeing his face. You try to convince yourself that it’s just the same happiness you feel at seeing anybody you healed- but it’s more than that.

You’d come to realize you thought of Bakugou as more than just a patient. He was nearing more of a strange sort of friend. Albeit one that frequently made you want to tear your hair out.

He shifts, standing straighter while you look at him, and you’re not sure what you were expecting, but his costume looks intimidating. The only time you’d seen it before, that very first night you’d met him, he hadn’t had his gauntlets or his headpiece. Now he’s standing in front of you, arms entrapped by giants grenades and sharp spikes behind his ears. He looks larger than life- so loud and proud that you almost can’t match the tired and injured Bakugou you knew to the seemingly invincible Dynamite he was now.

“I got your gift.” You break the ice with a small smile, stepping away from the door.

“You did, huh? You like it?”

“Oh my god, wipe the smirk off your face. I can hear it, you asshole.” You roll your eyes at his tone. “I didn’t like it. It was disgusting! Where the hell did you even get it?”

“Bakery down the street. Not that it matters since you’re fuckin’ ungrateful. Apparently.”

“Bakugou- you invited yourself into my house, and then left me a war-crime for breakfast! You try being grateful when that happens- trust me, it’s hard.”

He just shrugs, falling into step with you as you continue down the alley.

“Oh, okay, so is this just, like, a thing you’re doing now? Stalking me home-“

“Walking.” He interrupts sternly, clearly not finding humor in your joke. “Stupid shit like this is my fuckin’ job, okay- so don’t go thinking you’re special.”

“Oh I don’t. Believe me, you’ve made it very clear that you don’t even like- oh my god, are you bleeding?”

When he finally steps into the light of the street lamps, you can see blood glisten something sickly as it drips from his nose. It hardly reaches his lip before Bakugou is grunting, smearing it away on the back of his hand. There’s a strange torpidity to his movements, and it’s not until you meet his eyes that you realize it- he’s tired again, sleepless and ghostly just like every other time you’d ever seen him.

“What’s with the nose? I thought you said you didn’t get hurt often. What happened to that, huh?”

“You try fighting on less than 3 hours of sleep a night. Shit fuckin’ adds up. Makes you sloppy.” He defends, grumbling under his breath as he wipes away more blood. “I doubt you’d do any fuckin’ better.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t. I’m sure I wouldn’t.” You stop, staring him down until he spins to face you. “Can I see it? I think it’s broken.”

“No fuckin’ shit.”

“Bakugou, c’mon. I’m trying to help.” You roll your eyes at him. “Drop the attitude please.”

“Why the hell do you even care? Hah?”

“Because, contrary to your very disrespectful insults, I’m actually a pretty good nurse, alright? And that means I try my best to help injured people when I see them. Even when they’re rude to me.”

“Who the fuck said I’m rude?”

“Me. I’m saying it.” You insist, stepping closer to him. He smells like blood and smoke, still clad in his hero costume, but you approach anyway. “But, really, can I see? If it’s broken then it’s just going to keep bleeding unless you do something about it.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes, but seems to relent without much fight. He removes his mask, revealing the now familiar purpling under his eyes. You briefly wonder if he has a make-up artist- he never looked nearly that tired when he was doing interviews for the media.

You shake off the musing, reaching for his face and gently running your thumbs along his nose. Bakugou sucks a breath, and when you meet his eyes they’re guarded. He looks nervous, almost unsure under your touch, but you try your best to reassure him with a confident smile. Over the bridge of his nose you can feel swelling and aged scarring, but there cartilage feels intact. You breathe a sigh of relief.

“I think you might just be stuck with the swelling, but otherwise you’re good. Nothing’s broken.” You say easily, dropping your hands from his face as you take a step back. “Although, must’ve been some hit- you’ve already got a bit of bruising under your eyes.”

“Wow, thanks for the report- of all the baseline shit I already fuckin’ knew.”

“Don’t you ever get tired? You know, of being so mean all the time?” You level him with an unimpressed look, before digging in your purse for your pack of tissues. You fish a few out, pressing them into his hand. “Listen, you don’t deserve these, especially after that last remark, but take them anyways. And do me a favor and chill out, alright? I wasn’t trying to waste your time. I was just checking to see that the bleeding was from the impact and not anything else.”

“Yeah. Whatever, leech. I just don’t understand why you had to fuckin’ manhandle me to do it.”

“Please, I touched your nose, drama queen. And, even if I actually wanted to, I’m pretty sure you’d blow me up way before I even got that far.”

“Damn right.”

“Yep, and there he is.” You tease, turning down a side street. “Was hoping I’d get to experience another blatant display of your egotism sometime soon. Totally glad I don’t have to wait any longer.”

Bakugou scoffs, turning away, but you don’t miss it: his lip twitches. Just a bit, it hardly even counts, but you see it.

“You know, we really have to stop meeting like this.” You smile.

“Hell does that mean? Hah?”

“I mean, you need to stop running yourself ragged. You look terrible, and you’re getting yourself hurt. It’s not healthy.”

“I don’t need you to tell me what’s fuckin’ healthy.”

“Well if thought you knew, I wouldn’t have to tell you.”

“Don’t act like you’re so fuckin’ smart. You’re not.”

“Hey- no insults. You agreed, remember?”

“Because you fuckin’ made me, you bitch.” He grumbles, pressing another tissue into his nose. “And it’s not an insult if it’s a fact.”

“Hey, genuine question- have you ever tried just, like, I don’t know, being nice to people? Just asking out of curiosity.”

“You’re not funny.”

“Oh, that wasn’t a joke. I’m genuinely curious.” You say, your grin only growing wider at the sight of his grimace. “Like, if it was a life or death situation, and someone told you that you had to give a genuine compliment or be burned to death, you’d be an absolute crisp, right? Right?”

“Wrong. Fuckin’ idiot.”

“Oh. Okay. I mean I don’t believe you at all, but that’s okay.”

“Hell does that mean?”

“It means I don’t think you could do it.”

“I could.”

“You absolutely couldn’t.”

“I fuckin’ could, you leech.”

“See now that just proves my point.” You smile easily. “Feel free to prove me wrong though.”

Bakugou doesn’t say anything, but you see his pinched expression and that says enough. He knows he couldn’t do it just as much as you did.

From then on you walk in relative silence, and after a few more tissues from your purse, he finally stops bleeding all over the pavement. It’s a weird sort of stillness that ensuses but you find you don’t mind much.

“Aren’t you on patrol?” You ask.

“Obviously. What, the costume wasn’t enough to tell ya that? You seriously telling me your dumbass couldn’t figure that out?”

“You’re so difficult, I swear.” You roll your eyes. “What I meant, is don’t you have a job to get to? Instead of just walking me home.”

“What the hell do you think patrol is?”

“I don’t know, you tell me, hero.”

“It’s walking the streets. For fuckin’ hours and being bored as shit. That’s what it is.”

“Oh. Okay, so basically this, huh.” You sigh. “How do you always end up so hurt then?”

“I fuckin’ don’t. Or didn’t used to.” He grits, kicking at a rock in the road with his boot. “But there’s lots of fuckin’ idiots with surprise quirks. It’s absolute bullshit some of the powers people end up with.”

“So you’re telling me even the great Dynamite loses sometimes?”

“No. Never.”

“What about that first night then? When you landed on my balcony?” You ask quietly, pulling your keycard out as you begin to near your apartment complex. “You were unconscious.”

“It wasn’t- I didn’t lose, you fuckin’ idiot. That was different.”

There’s something in his voice- an unusual tension that’s only amplified by the way he clenches his jaw and shakes his head. Bakugou looks strange, his forehead split by a crease you’d never seen on him before. It hardly lasts a second though, and then he’s blinking it away, eyes hardening like it was never even there in the first place.

“Yeah?” You’re swiping your keycard, turning back to face him with your hand on the door handle. You try to keep your tone light. “Tell me how.”

“It’s none of your fuckin’ business.”

“Is that your default answer for everything? C’mon, I’ve always been curious about it.”

“You shouldn’t be. It’s not your problem.”

“Yeah, maybe not, but I’m sure if I wound up half-dead on your doorstep you’d be curious too. So, c’mon, indulge me.”

“No.” He grits.

“Seriously?” You huff, trying to keep the slight frustration out of your voice. You just didn’t understand him. “Why not?”

“Because.”

“Bakugou, seriously, it’s just a question and I don’t understand why-”

“Stop fuckin’ pushing!” He suddenly roars, spitting as he seethes. His palms are crackling, gauntlets glinting dangerously under the street lamps. “Jesus fucking christ, you never shut the hell up! Don’t you get it? We’re not fucking friends! Stop asking me shit and digging in my fuckin’ business like you’re special!”

You shrink back, a little taken aback by his tone. You hadn’t realized just how used to his normal grumbling you’d become, but the outright venom in his voice shocked you. His eyes were blazing, red and fiery and harsh against the black of his mask. It wasn’t like before. He wasn’t joking and it wasn’t an empty threat, he wanted to scare you off this time.

You quickly realized you’d become way too comfortable. Somehow you’d forgotten just how much he truly didn’t like you. And how short his fuse was.

“Yeah. I- uh, I’m sorry.” You fumble over your words, unable to hold his gaze. “It’s not my business. Sorry.”

Bakugou doesn’t say anything, just sneering before turning his back and stomping off. You think there’s blood rushing in your ears, but his heavy boots are louder, striking against the pavement like thunder. He’s off in a cacophony of metallic clanking and heavy breathing, leaving a strange vacuum of silence behind him. You shake your head, trying to rid yourself of your uneasiness. He’d blown up and left so quickly you’d hardly even processed it. Left you standing in the street, blinking away the whiplash, and scrunching your nose at the smell of gunpowder and nitroglycerin.

With shaking hands, you pull open the door, head reeling as you step into the elevator. There’s guilt settling in your stomach by the time you reach your floor, practically suffocating you when you step into your apartment.

You shouldn’t have pried. You shouldn’t have, because he didn’t technically owe you anything, especially not if it was a bad memory for him- and you didn’t need your quirk to tell you that’s what it was for him.

Bakugou was right. You weren’t friends. You hardly knew him; even if sometimes it felt like you saw vulnerable parts of him nobody else did.

Ridding yourself of the thought, you decide to settle in for a calm night. You’d originally planned to make a trip to the store for some food, but now you just weren’t feeling up to it. What you were feeling up to was some take-out, so you pulled out a menu and ordered your usual.

You showered, changing into pajamas and throwing your hair up before your food arrived, trying not to stew over your latest disastrous interaction with Bakugou.

A part of you wondered what was up with him, especially because the longer you thought about it, the more his voice seemed to sound vulnerable. When he’d yelled it was like the sound was eating away at his throat, like it had been sitting there for a while and building. There was no emphasis to any of his words, all of them tumbling out with the same rage. Like the words were less important than the expression itself. You’d love to just throw the interaction away as nothing more than anger at your prying, but it didn’t read like that to you. You’d been reading secondhand emotions your entire life, you knew them like an entirely separate language, and something about Bakugou’s outburst felt layered to you- like his rage was something opportunistic that had just been searching for an outlet.

You wonder again about what happened all those months ago, wonder just what must happen in his day-to-day life to make him that angry. You’ve learned your lesson though- you won’t let yourself mistakenly feel comfortable enough to ask him again.

Something about that thought makes you a little sad, as this wasn’t the first time you’d ran into this problem. You weren’t sure if it was a byproduct of your quirk or if it was just you, but you’d sort of always cared about people disproportionately. Somehow always came on too strong. Your heart was big enough to bleed for just about anybody.

There’s a knock on your door, and you rise to get your food. It’s hot in your hands, the smell wafting deliciously, but you hardly even recognize it, caught off-guard by another knock. This one’s at your back door, and it’s softer. Tentative and light against the glass. You set your food down, spinning to face the noise.

You can hardly hide your surprise, and he must see it too. He’s rolling his eyes then, knuckles rapping against the glass once more. He’s clad in sweats, devoid of his hero costume from earlier, and there’s a bag in his hands. He’s shuffling it impatiently as you near the door.

“Bakugou? I-” You start, sliding the door open for him to step in.

“Save it. Apologies are wimp shit.” He growls, stepping past you with large strides. “We both know why I’m here so just shut the fuck up and get on with it already.”

There’s a lot of things you want to ask him in that moment- why he’s showing up so late, how he even knew which balcony was yours, why there’s a bruise on his jaw that you’re sure wasn’t there before, but mostly, why he even came back at all. With how angry he was, you were sure you’d run him off for a while.

“It’s- no. I have to apologize, I do.” You tell him, trying to catch his gaze. Bakugou doesn’t let you, but you continue trying anyway. “Really. Your business is your business and I shouldn’t have pried. I wasn’t trying to be rude, I really was just curious. Still though, if you don’t want to say you absolutely don’t have to, and I shouldn’t have pushed it.”

“Why do you even care?”

“You asked me that earlier.” You note softly, taking a deep breath before talking again. “And I meant it, what I said, about being a nurse. But I’m also just me, and that means I care about everyone. Everyone and everything. All the time.”

“That’s fuckin’ stupid.”

“I mean, for my mental health? Yeah. Absolutely.” You laugh sardonically, fiddling with a piece of your hair as you continue. “But I don’t regret it, and there’s pretty much nothing I can do to stop it. Caring about everyone is like, my biggest character trait-”

“Character flaw.”

“No. I think it’s a good thing. But I get how it could be uncomfortable to be on the receiving end of it. And that maybe, I sometimes come off as invasive when really I’m just concerned. Sorry if I got too comfortable with you. I’ll try not to let it happen again. “

“That’s not-” Bakugou curses under his breath, before whipping around to face you. He’s blushing slightly, fist clenching the paper bag he’s holding. “I was just mad. Not every goddamn thing is about you. So don’t be a fuckin’ idiot and go reading into it like that.”

Truly, you’re not sure how to take his comment. You felt like you were definitely in the wrong, but Bakugou seemed serious. His eyes were full of a new sincerity you’d hardly seen in him before.

“Yeah. Okay. I can do that.” You smile unsurely. Then you’re walking past him, returning back to your food in the kitchen. “So, you planning to sleep on my couch again?”

“Fuckin’ obviously. Gonna eat first though.”

“Oh I’m sure. That’s what’s in the bag, right?” You ask, beginning to unpack your own food. At his nod, you begin speaking once more. “Makes sense. I’m sure you’ve gotta be hungry after lugging those gauntlets around. Those are massive, you know?”

“Yep. I know.”

When you look up at him, he’s got that signature smirk pulled across his face. You let the sarcasm seep thickly into your words. “If I didn’t know any better, that’d sound a lot like pride.”

“It might be.”

“Oh, so you’re proud of dragging those huge weapons around? You know, why doesn’t that surprise me? Of course you are.”

Bakugou just shrugs, making himself a home of your kitchen table, grunting slightly as he tears the plastic lid off his container of food. Almost immediately something spicy and nearly choking permeates the air. You scrunch your nose up with a shiver.

“What the hell is that?” You ask him incredulously, picking at your food while standing at the counter. You’d briefly thought about joining him at the table, but the option looks absolutely unappealing now. “That smells lethal, Bakugou! Who needs something that spicy? Are you trying to kill yourself?”

“Oi, chill the hell out, it’s not even bad. You’re just a fuckin’ wimp.”

“Hey, no insults, remember?”

“God, you’re gonna kill me with that shit.” He grumbles, but he’s stabbing at his noodles with a tiny, barely-there tilt to his lips. “You should abandon that.”

“Yeah, I’m not gonna do that.”

“Why the hell not?”

“Because you’d have way too much fun with it.” You smile, taking another bite. “And because it’d be like when I stitched you up all over again. You were so mean.”

“I was not. Fuckin’ baby.”

“You were. Do you not remember telling me to shut the fuck up? To my face? Like, minutes after I started fixing you up!”

“Because you were being fucking annoying!” He challenges, that same hint of amusement in his eyes. “How in the hell is that my fault?”

“It’s your fault because everything seems to annoy you.”

“Yeah, well everything is fucking bullshit. Again, how is that my fault.”

“God, you’re impossible.” You groan, setting your fork down. You open your fridge, hand grasping at a water bottle before you turn back to him. “You want a drink? Pretty much all I have is water, but you’re welcome to that.”

Bakugou nods, but then he’s tilting his head slightly, a smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. “You’re a shitty host. Only offering me a drink when I’m already half-way through my meal. That shit’s embarrassing as hell.”

“Bakugou. Open your mouth again and I swear I’ll chuck this at you.”

“Do it, leech.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Are you fucking braindead? Of course it is.”

Then Bakugou’s leaning forward in his seat, eyes tracking you intensely. There’s that same life in them from the last time you saw him- that same look that’s all softly-licking flames and absolutely no inferno. It makes you smile.

“Actually, no, you know what? I absolutely will not be stooping to your aggressive level.” You near him, making a point to press the water bottle gently into his waiting hand. “Not tonight, you absolute madman.”

“Boring.”

“No. Not boring. It’s responsible.”

“Those are fuckin’ synonyms, leech.”

“Wow, I didn’t think you even knew what synonyms were.”

“You think I’m stupid? Fat fuckin’ chance.” He sneers, shoveling another forkful of noodles into his mouth. “Or did you just forget when I figured out how your shitty quirk worked before you did?”

"No. I didn’t forget. And I’m still mad at you for that so let’s not bring it up, please.”

“Hell are you mad for, woman? Did you a fuckin’ favor.”

“Hm, maybe because you figured it out within like, basically moments of meeting me?” You glare at him, but it’s half-hearted and the look on his face tells you Bakugou knows it is too. “Oh, and how, maybe I’ve always kind of had these weird symptoms my entire life, and you figured them out before I did?”

“Who cares who figured it out? Just fix your shit now and stop fuckin’ complaining.”

“Fix my shit? Fix my shit? Bakugou!” You throw your fork down, sighing in frustration. “My shit is literally not being able to touch anybody without getting drained! My shit is basically not being able to function properly in every day life!”

“Yeah? So? Just quit being a bitch and figure out how to build up your stamina then.” He shrugs, sliding his empty container away as he sips at his water. “Easy fuckin’ solution.”

“It’s not that easy. I can’t control it, it just happens.”

“Really? You sure you’re not trying anything with it?”

“No?”

Bakugou just squints at you funny, something confused flitting across his features for a moment. “Really? Fuckin’ sure? Nothing at all?”

“No? Why’re you- what are you asking?”

“When you brought me back, the first time, you were like, in my fuckin’ brain or something.” He grumbles, looking away. “It’s not gonna make sense, but I didn’t know it was you until you said shit. But then you opened your mouth and I could tell it was you pushing all the bad shit away.”

“Was it green?”

“Hah?”

“Green.” You worry at your hands, trying to gather your thoughts in a way that made sense. “My whole life, people have told me that it’s green when I help them. Not like, a color they can see, but that it’s just something they know. That somehow I’m green. In their head, I mean.”

“Yeah. Actually.” He mumbles, clearing his throat. “Freaked me the hell out.”

“Sorry. It’s- I normally try to warn people about that before I do it, you know? But obviously that wasn’t an option for you.”

“Yeah.” He agrees, then Bakugou is zoning out, leg bouncing under the table. He blinks, suddenly whipping his head around to you. “You ever try doing it till you pass out?”

“No? Well- I mean, no, not like, formally. Sometimes it just happens though. Why?”

“Because you need a fuckin’ threshold, idiot. A limit. How the hell else are you supposed to know if you’re getting stronger?”

“I don’t- I don’t think my quirk is really a thing you can strengthen. Not like that at least.”

Bakugou rolls his eyes. “Not your quirk, dumbass. You. You need to get stronger. Learn to work around your quirk.”

“How the hell am I supposed to do that?”

He turns away another moment, and the silence he leaves behind him baffles you. Bakugou’s got his eyebrows drawn inward, hand in his palm as he idly rubs at the bruise on his chin. You gather up his empty container from him, throwing it in the garbage with your own, but he doesn’t spare you a glance. Whatever he was thinking about, almost seemed to hold him captive.

“Oi- Leech.” He says calmly, red eyes sliding over to yours lazily. “Touch a shit-load of people and fight though it. That’s how you do it.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not.”

When you look at him, Bakugou’s mouth is set in a straight line, determined and steady as he crosses his arms over his chest. He really isn’t kidding.

“That’s not gonna work, I’ve been doing that practically my whole life and look where I am.”

“No, you’re not fucking listening, you moron.” He grumbles, rolling his eyes again. “I said just touch them. Not use your fuckin’ quirk. That’ll wipe you way too quick. You just have to touch a bunch of people all in a row, and suck it the hell up. Keep pushing. Eventually you’ll be able to touch way more people in the test setting than you’ll ever have to in a normal day. Problem fuckin’ solved.”

“That’s-” You breathe out, beginning to wrap your head around it. “I’ve never done that. On purpose I mean. I wonder- I mean, I think that could work. Maybe.”

“Of course it’ll fuckin’ work.”

“Yeah, hypothetically, maybe. But where am I gonna get that many people? And for days in a row?”

“Fuck should I know? That’s not my problem.”

“Seriously?”

“Seriously.” He shrugs, standing up as he stretches his arms over his head. He yawns widely into his hand, regarding you with tired eyes. “You figure that one out. I already did all the other fuckin’ work.”

“You thought of one solution.”

“One solution your dumbass didn’t fuckin’ think up.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it. Thank you very much.” You mutter in mock-offense, following behind him as he walks out into your living room. “You ready to sleep?”

“Yeah. Fuckin’ hate listening to you run your mouth.”

You feel something hot and irritated rise in your throat. Then you’re looking over at him, at his smile and the way it crinkles his eyes. There’s no malice to his insult, and if anything he only seems thrilled when you rise to the challenge.

“And I hate having to clean up your blood pretty much every time I see you. Guess we’re both miserable.” You joke, curling your lips into a sneer to match his own. “And I won’t forget, asshole, you owe me a new packet of tissues.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just put me to sleep already.”

Then he’s collapsing onto your couch, settling into the pillows and grabbing the blanket off the back in one fell-swoop. There’s a fluidness to his movements that has you rolling your eyes, hardly even able to believe it was only the second time he’d been there.

“Yeah. Yeah, sure, do whatever you want. Make yourself totally at home, Bakugou! My living room is obviously for you and you only.”

“Fuckin’ knew it.”

“I was being sarcastic.”

“And? I’ll decide to take it however the hell I want.”

“You’re really irritating, you know that?” You half-laugh, pulling one of your gloves from your fingers. “Now, c’mon gimme your hand- wait, actually, I’ve got something else to say first.”

“Jesus christ, what?”

“I want you to come around more often.”

He just shrinks back into the cushions, mouth twisting up comically. “What the hell? That a joke or some shit?”

“No. I’m serious. If you being tired is why you’re always getting hurt, then you need to come around more often. I promise I won’t give you shit for it.” You reassure him. “I’d just- I’d much rather see you here than in the hospital, you know?”

He seems to just balk even more at your words, tilting his head to the side. “Why the fuck would ya go and volunteer for that?”

“Because, I care about everybody and everything. All the time, remember?”

Something must click for him then, because then he’s nodding, extending a hand towards yours. He won’t meet your eyes, but there’s something a little different about his expression. It’s softer, the tension in his eyebrows almost seeming to melt away entirely.

You grasp his hand, veins once again filling with subtle fire. You wonder suddenly, if using your quirk would afford him sleep for longer, but when you look down at him, you decide against asking. Bakugou’s already got his eyes closed, hand slipping out of yours as he goes completely lax against the cushions. It takes hardly minutes, but then his breath is slowing, and his eyelids are fluttering, but suddenly he jolts. His eyes are half-lidded and his voice sleep-drunk when he speaks.

“Your shitty quirk’s good at fuckin’ puttin’ people to sleep.” He grumbles suddenly, pressing his face further into the pillow. “There. ‘s a compliment. ‘m not burnin’ today. Eat shit, leech.”

You can hardly hold in your giggle, but it doesn’t matter. Bakugou is snoring almost the second he finishes his thought, limbs stilling almost entirely except for subtle twitches.

When you turn the lights out, walking back to your room, you feel it again.

A faint fondness. A slow-burning warmth just barely settling in your chest.

-//-

pls bc i havent edited this at all i was just excited to post lmaooo

taglist: @fluffyviciousbunny @definitelynottrin @imsuperawkward @i-need-air @ahbeautifulexistence @brennabooz @jazzylove @flattykawadoorusmilkbread @katsuki-bakubabe @sorrythatspussynal @bakugouswh0r3 @cloudsgathering @un-limit-edd @thekatsukisimp @pollayra21 @the2ndl @officialtrashbusiness @waffleareniceandfluffy @monempathieetmoi @koiwoshinai @christianagrace9

#bakugou katsuki #bakugo #katsuki bakugou #bakugou bnha #bakugou mha #bakugou x reader #bakugou x y/n #bakugou x you #bakugou x self insert #bakugou series #bakugou fic #bakugou fanfic #bnha fic #mha fic

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falloutjay · 3 years ago

Note

Stan x anxious/compassionate reader (kind of has a little canon divergence)

After giving up on Wendy (around Season 12), Stan and us start dating, we were always worried about him (no we weren't dating him out of pity, we were just a very anxious person). Some people find of clingy, others find us adorable but We've never left his side:

Ex: We were by his side helping with whales (Whale W)

We were the only one who didn't leave him when he got depression (You're Getting Old/Ass Burgers)

Next to Heidi, we became social pariah because we didn't want to dump Stan (this even made Wendy guilty)

But him moving, really gets to us, the coronavirus makes it worse. We get worried about him, then we start getting worried about everyone else as everything falls apart (Kyle, Kenny, Eric, Butters, Tweek, Craig, Scott, etc.) And we pass out of stress. About waking up in the hospital, we find out, everyone was worried about us. And Stan is the most worried of all, he spends the whole day with us. We tal-no vent about all the happened to the both of us. By the end of it, we agree that whatever happens we'll do it together.

Guess whos back! :D

Well, while it's not my best work, in my humble opinion, I sure hope you enjoy and like it. Again sorry for the delay! ಥ_ಥ

And if it's not that clear, because I know I can write a little cryptic, there is a time skip. You can either have all the show events happen when they are children and have the time skip between Covid and the memories or between you getting together as kids and the memories. Choose however you like! ^^

_________________________________________

Stan x anxious!compassionate!Reader

Tiny eyes watched the scene unfold.

Normally, Wendy was the one to break up with Stan, but not this time around. Stan was actually telling Wendy that he had no interest in her anymore.

“What changed Stan?” Wendy asked, obviously confused.

“I think I like someone else… I don’t know yet…”

Wendy gave him a smile.

“I wish you all the luck Stan, say if you need anything!”

“I will.” And with that, Wendy took off to be with her friends, while Stan turned a corner and told Kyle and Kenny how it went.

Cartman was there too, but he only wanted to know if she cried, because “she would deserve it.”.

You closed your locker and felt your heartbeat like crazy. Ever since you changed school a few months ago, Stan captured your little ten-year-old mind.

He was kind and showed you around when you had no idea where to go. It was a little crush you developed, and you never felt as scared and excited as now, since that Stan had broken off with Wendy.

This newfound feeling almost made you dizzy but you quickly snapped back into reality when you heard your name.

“Y/N?” Stan asked and waited patiently for his answer next to you.

“Oh, sorry, I was thinking, what did you want?”

“Would you maybe like to hang out some time?”

Stan almost got a heart attack when you suddenly squealed but was happy when you managed to get a high-pitched “YES!” out.

“Okay, what are you betting Kenny? Some Pennies or a dead rat?” Cartman almost fell from his chair laughing about his shitty joke, while Kyle and Kenny rolled their eyes.

“Don’t you think it’s weird how clingy they are?” Kyle asked his blonde friend, while they kept watching you and Stan, who were seated at a separate table at lunch.

“Honestly, I think it’s pretty cute.” Kenny said with his muffled voice.

You held his arm and hugged him from the side, while he happy kept on eating his lunch.

Eric, who had now calmed down from his laugh attack eyed the couple critically. “I’m giving them a month max.”

He said lazily and looked around. “I say longer than a year.” Kenny said, throwing a crinkled five-dollar note on the table.

“You two are horrible.” Kyle shook his head before he threw 10 dollars on the table.

“Four months.”

Kenny was a happy man after a year, because despite everyone believing you two would eventually break up, you never did.

You were always by his side, no matter what.

His desire to desperately save whales with the help of a braindead ship crew?

You were always right by his in the interviews he gave.

His horrible depression that even drove Kyle away? No chance, you stood strong and helped him through the whole thing and even help reuniting the gang.

Even during the protest against Skanthunt42, you chose to sit this one out, despite you absolutely hating that the troll photoshopped a dick into your mother’s mouth.

At least you and Heidi got close due to you guys both becoming social outcasts. When Wendy heard this, she was impressed by your dedication and felt somewhat guilty for obviously not trying as much in her former relationship.

Everyone admired your patience and endurance. No matter what obstacle came, you managed to get through it.

“You don’t need to be sad, Y/N. I won't be that far away.” Stan said, holding your hand.

“B-But it's outside of town. You need ages by bike to get there and vice versa.” You said, holding back tears.

Randy walked past you and you desperately pleaded to him.

“Please Mister Marsh, please stay in town!” Randy put the box he carried into the car, before turning to you.

“Real sorry, dear Y/N. This town is…How do I put it… Absolute shit and I really want to get away.”

He patted you on the head and went back into the house to get more boxes.

“Told you, you cant talk to him.” Stan said and shrugged.

“But it’s unfair. We won’t see each other as much anymore.” Stan pressed a kiss onto your cheek, which made you blush intensely.

“Don’t. Worry. I will make time for you.”

With that in mind, you didn’t feel as sad, when the car with the Marsh Family in it left for their new home.

“I will make time for you, my ass.” You mumbled while you sat at a bench near Starks Pond. Letting out a deep sigh, you leaned back and just enjoyed the warmth of the setting sun.

Covid was one hell of a bitch and just had to have this big impact on everyone’s life. Stan and you now saw each other less and less.

It was just a horrible feeling that tainted your heart and made you worry a lot.

Maybe he was feeling just as bad as you are, maybe even more?

Maybe he just didn’t want to tell you how he felt?

Were you maybe a bad partner? Your mind began racing and your train of thoughts became unrailed.

So many bad thoughts manifested themselves and it made you almost gasp for air.

“I need to check on him.” You mumbled getting up from the park bench.

You began walking and you kind of hoped that maybe just the walking would get your mind in check, but sadly it didn’t. Involuntarily you had to think about all the other stuff that happened during this horrible time.

The precious Broship was more fragile than ever. You had become such good friends with Kenny, Kyle and Cartman over time that it hurt you a lot too.

You also saw Covid take a toll on your other friends, like Craig and his group, who now took Cartman into their gang after the split up.

However, that came to be…

The girls were also pretty divided, so hanging out with them meant picking sides which wasn’t your thing, you kinda just want them to get along again.

Everything felt like it was falling apart. Your parents had fights ever so often, all your friends had problems and your beloved boyfriend was stuck on that stupid farm.

God how you hated that stupid farm and Randy.

When he gave you one of those plushies that looked like him, you functioned it into a voodoo doll. But sadly, it didn’t seem to affect him, no matter how many needles you rammed into it.

Your heart felt heavy, and it seemed hard to breathe, but you brushed it aside.

You had already reached the busy streets of South Park and mingled between the newly vaccinated people.

Everywhere you looked, the people seemed happy.

Everyone was happy except you and the people around you… Maybe…You were the problem?

You shook your head. No, you didn’t allow those kinds of thoughts.

You much rather think about Stan. How you miss him and how amazing your dates were.

Oh, how much effort he put into all the small things… Well… At least he did.

Now that you thought about it when was your last date?

It feels like it had been ages. It has been ages. Everything had been ages. Going out with him, hanging out with your friends, your family not fighting… How long has this been the new normal? You can’t help but wonder.

Your heart clenched again. “Stop it, stupid heart.” You mumbled under your breath.

An exhausted sigh escaped your lips when you thought about how you maybe had to walk all the way up to the farm… It would take ages, but you really craved being held by the person you adored so much.

So, you continued walking down through the street when an elder lady stopped you.

“Excuse me, but you look rather sickly, are you alright?” Confused you raised an eyebrow. Did the vaccines make them delusional?

“No, I’m fine.” You answered, somewhat snippy, even when you didn’t know why you were so agitated.

“But you look rather pale, maybe you- I am fine.” You interrupted her and continued your path.

Were all people in this shitty town stupid or- The thought could not be completed, due to you suddenly losing consciousness.

When you woke up again, you immediately recognized one of the Hells Pass Hospital rooms, once your eyes had adjusted to the bright lights. Around the bed were your parents and more importantly Stan and his mother.

“Thank God, you’re awake again!” Your mother said when she went for a hug.

Confused you asked why you were here.

“Well, seemingly you were so stressed out, that your body basically shut down.”

Somewhat shocked you looked around. Was it really a surprise to hear that? Not really, but it still felt odd knowing that it happened.

“Well, I’m glad you’re fine, Y/N.” Misses Marsh commented and smiled warmly at you. She had always liked you and you felt the same. She was always nice to you and you felt like she was the only one with a brain in the family…

Feeling a sudden sensation of warmness on your hand, your eyes darted down to it. Stan held you hand while answering something your dad had asked him.

“Well, Sharon, you wanna accompany us to get some hot chocolate for us all?”

Your mother said with an odd wink, which made you and Stan roll your eyes.

The three adults left the room chatting happily. Stan looked at you with a stern expression, which kind of surprised you.

“I swear, whenever I think I couldn’t get more worried about you, your parents call me, to tell me that you’re in the hospital.”

“Worried? About me? I should be worried about you?” You laughed to which Stan shook his head.

“Listen, everyone has been super worried about you since you seemed so down and just exhausted. Like, Kyle already called me earlier to ask if you’re awake again. I don’t know why you worry about me; I am really fine babe. Promise.”

With that said, the door opened, and your parents came back inside.

“Y/N, the doctor said they would like you to stay the night, so they can check that you’re really alright.” Your father informed you and you were immediately annoyed.

Well, you had no choice but to oblige. Your parents left after an hour, wanting to get you some clothes and other things you’d need.

Sharon also bids her goodbye and so you and Stan were left.

And just like you wished, you got to cuddle with him. He held you close, and you vented to him, how worried you were about everything and everyone, while he told you just how worried all of your friends had been since you were acting so out of character.

“Even Cartman?”

“Yup, even when he would never admit it.” Stan laughed. He held your hand tight, and his content smile never left his face.

“I think we should talk more about feelings and being worried and all that. I know I’m not all that good at it, but I don’t ever wanna have to visit you in a hospital again.” Stan said, giving your hand a squeeze.

“That sounds good. But you gotta accept, I worry a lot, because I care a lot about you, okay?” You said sternly and Stan nodded. You two looked fondly at each other and just enjoyed the time you got.

“Together forever?” You asked and he whispered “Forever.”, before he pressed a sweet kiss onto your lips.

#south park x reader #stan x reader #stan marsh x reader

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walkerwords · 4 years ago

Text

“Moment of Clarity” Rick Grimes x F!Reader

Summary: After arriving in Alexandria, Rick is on edge. The two of you had been together since the fall of the prison and after noticing his stressed demeanor, you decide to steal him away for a bit to try to see what is going on inside that head of his.

Word Count: 3958

Warning: None

Song I Wrote To: “So Will I” by Ben Platt

Note: Set pre-negan, I just really wanted to write a cute little moment with Rick. I realized I don’t write him enough, but complain that there aren’t enough rick imagines so here ya go! NOTE: this is only a one-shot.

----------

Alexandria was a lot more than you had expected.

Since the only experience you and the rest of the group had when it came to “communities” were Woodbury and the nightmare that was Terminus, everyone was on edge.

You had been with the group since Atlanta and you and Rick had only grown closer since the day he stepped out of that truck and took Carl into his arms. Your romantic relationship with the former deputy had began on the road after the fall of the prison. You were worried about sharing your feelings with him because of what had happened to Lori, but the two of you just...fit and everyone else had seen it too.

When Rick had first kissed you, it had taken you by surprise. You, Michonne, Carl, and Rick had been hiding out in a house when you had broken down in a spare room after everything had happened. Rick had found you and calmed you down and took you into his arms. As soon as you stopped crying, you pulled out of his embrace and then, without warning, Rick had taken your face in his hands and kissed you, pulling him against his chest.

It was after that moment that you knew you were his forever. After Terminus, when you had seen him running from the slaughterhouse. You had run to him and you swore then that you’d never leave him again.

Finding Alexandria had seemed like a dream. You hadn’t felt this safe and secure since the prison. Not to mention the reality that the safe zone was so...normal.

The leader, Deanna, had welcomed you and your band of misfits easily. When she had interviewed you, you had Judith with you, giving her dad a break. You kept the child close to your chest as if shielding her from the stranger before her. Deanna had asked you routine questions and then eventually had you ask Daryl to join her.

As you passed Dixon outside, he had pressed a kiss to Judith’s brow before entering the house and the sight alone had brought a warm smile to Rick’s worried face because he knew that no matter what happened next, his family would remain by his side.

You assured him that night that he was right and that if he needed them to, you, Daryl, Glenn, Maggie, and the others would by his side when something went wrong or if Alexandria was not what it seemed. And so far, you had kept that promise.

You lay alone in the bed you shared with Rick. His constable uniform was draped over the chair in the corner and you couldn’t help but smile at the memory of the first time you saw him in it. Michonne and Rick were natural-born leaders, but there was something so odd about seeing them in a uniform like this.

They were warriors and while you knew Rick was glad to always help people, he had admitted to you last night that he was feeling like a fraud with the jacket on. You understood that. It had been a long time since he wore a uniform, since he had held any authority that he didn’t have to take for himself.

Rick was the best leader any of you could have asked for, but you knew it weighed on him heavily. Especially after losing people like Lori, Shane, and more recently with Tyreese and Beth. However, he did seem to forget that nobody expected him to be perfect, not even you or his children. You were hoping to make him see that which is how you found yourself planning to steal him away for the day.

Getting out of bed, you got ready for the day. Deanna still had your guns, but she still allowed you to carry your knives. As you strapped them to your thighs, you headed downstairs.

Carl and Judith were at the table with Michonne. You ruffled Carl’s hair and kissed the top of Judith’s head. “Good morning,” you greeted.

“Sleep well?” Michonne asked. You nodded, taking a seat next to her and grabbing some bread off the table. Olivia had brought some over the night before.

“Better than I have in weeks. I think my body has finally realized a Walker isn’t waiting in my closet,” you said. Michonne laughed.

“I hear that,” she said. “I guess we all have some adjusting to do.”

“I keep forgetting we’re not still on the road,” Carl admitted, leaning back in his own seat. “Do you think we’ll be able to stay?”

“I don’t see why not, but we never know, Carl,” you said and he nodded.

“I know, I’m just tired of running.”

“Me too, kid,” you told him honestly. Carl was one of the only people who knew you as well as his dad did. He had to grow up very fast after the Turn and then when Lori died, he developed steel-like skin and never looked back. At times, it was hard to remember he was still just a teenager.

“Do you have any plans today?” Michonne asked.

“I was thinking of looking around some more,” you said with a shrug. “Do you know where your dad is, Carl?”

“He went to talk to Deanna early this morning. He said he didn’t want to wake you,” Carl said. You smiled slightly. Even in the Apocalypse, Rick Grimes was still a gentleman. “I don’t know when he’ll be back.”

“Ah, don’t worry. I’ll find him,” you said, getting to your feet. “Be good for your brother, little one,” you said to Judith as she wrapped her little hand around your finger. Your heart melted at the action and gave her another kiss before waving to the others and heading out your door.

The rest of Alexandria was waking up for the day and your new neighbors waved to you. You awkwardly waved back, but kept your focus on your search for your boyfriend. Walking down the main road, you scanned the many houses.

Carol was speaking to Olivia on her porch as she fiddled with the cardigan around her shoulders. You and Daryl had both scoffed when you had seen her trying to play Martha Stewart. You knew why she was doing it, but it was too alien to see a woman like her so...clean.

Speaking of Daryl, he was once again in Aaron’s garage, the door open, as he worked on his new bike. “She’s looking good,” you said, approaching him. Daryl looked up at you, a screwdriver locked between his teeth. He grunted in greeting. “How long till she’s up and running?”

“Not much longer,” he said, taking the tool from his mouth. “Ya want first ride?”

“Obviously,” you said with a bright smile. Daryl rolled his eyes, but you could see the small smile on his face. “You seen Rick?” He nodded, pointing down the road.

“He and Glenn are down by the gate. He’s tryin’ to convince the Monroe moron that we need more watch points,” Daryl explained.

“How do you think that’s goin’?”

“Like I said, he’s a moron,” Daryl said with a scoff.

“Fair enough.” You knew he didn’t like Spencer. Hell, nobody did, but he was Deanna’s son and you all had to get along with him. Except for Daryl. He had nearly sucker-punched the guy a day earlier when he tried to make unwanted advances on Tara which were obviously futile. Spencer backed off immediately, but then and there was when Daryl labeled himself as the group’s main protector and nobody argued with him.

“Ya alright?” Daryl asked, wiping the grease from his hands as he stood.

“Fine, why?”

“Dunno, ya got that look on yer face,” he said, flicking the hair out of his eyes.

“What look?”

“The look that means yer up to somethin’,” he teased.

“So, my usual face?”

“Exactly,” he said and you bumped his shoulder.

“Asshole,” you muttered. “I’m gonna go meet up with Grimes.”

“I’ll come with, I gotta talk to Glenn,” he said as he followed you. Your friendship with Daryl was something you cherished deeply. He had had your back since the quarry. His brother, Merle, had liked you too and since losing the older Dixon, the two of you had naturally gravitated towards one another.

Walking down the street with him, however, felt...odd. It felt like something out of a bad movie. Two people who had seen enough horror to last a lifetime walking down a road with manicured lawns and laughing children seemed like some kind of long-winded joke.

“Judith was restless last night,” Daryl said suddenly.

“Yeah, makes sense. New place and all. She’s never actually been in a proper house now that I think about it.”

“This place is good for her,” he said. “She and Carl need it.”

“Then let’s try to make it work, okay?” Daryl nodded, chewing on his thumb. Something he had made a habit of. It drove you crazy, but you had come to accept his odd quirks.

As you arrived at the gate, you could practically feel the tension rolling off both Rick and Glenn as they stared at Spencer. Nicholas stood behind his friend glaring down Glenn and you knew it was only a matter of time before those two got into it again.

“We’re not a military base, Grimes,” Spencer was saying as you and Daryl grew closer.

“No, you’re just an idiot,” Glenn said with a smile and Daryl snorted next to you, grabbing the others’ attention.

“Alright,” you interjected, “break it up boys. I think there is enough hostility in this world already.” As soon as Rick saw you, he visibly relaxed. Spencer took a few steps back as you walked up to Rick and he opened his arm to you. “Hey, you.”

“Hey yourself,” Rick murmured. You looked back at Spencer and Nicholas.

“I’m stealing him away for a bit, try not to need anything,” you said as you tugged him towards the gate.

“What are you up to?” Rick asked, letting you lead him away. From the back of your jeans, you produced his colt and offered it to him.

“I grabbed this on my way to see Daryl,” you said. “Are you up for a walk?” Rick took the gun and holstered it before glancing up at the walls and then back at you. You knew he was feeling claustrophobic and a smile slowly spread across his scruffy face.

“Absolutely,” he said, turning to Daryl. “We’ll be back in a bit.”

“Alright,” Daryl said with a nod. Spencer and Nicholas watched as you took Rick’s hand and led him out of Alexandria, Glenn locking up behind you.

“Where are they going?” Spencer asked.

“Out,” Daryl said with a shrug.

“It’s not exactly safe…” Nicholas added. Daryl just stared at them for a moment.

“They have weapons, they’ll be fine,” he said before turning and walking over to Glenn. “Idiots,” he said as he met Glenn on the way back up the road. Glenn laughed and grabbed Daryl’s shoulder.

“See, this is why we’re friends,” Glenn said. Daryl rolled his eyes.

“Whatever.”

————

In the hot Virginian sun, you and Rick walked the perimeter around Alexandria.

Taking his hand in yours, you let them swing between you as you kicked at the dry leaves that littered the forest floor. “You know,” you began, “I checked on Carl last night before I went to bed and it was so weird to see him tucked into an actual bed.” Rick chuckled, nodding his head.

“I thought the same thing that first night. I hadn’t seen him that comfortable since this whole thing began,” Rick said.

“Well, Alexandria is secure, Rick,” you said, “It’s about damn time he’s felt safe. Noah and Judith too. The prison, while it was safe, there was always the threat of the Walkers breaking down the fence and of course, the Governor. After all the time on the road, they deserve a bit of normalcy.”

“Normal, right,” Rick laughed. You rolled your eyes, knocking his shoulder with yours.

“Okay, smart-ass. As normal as we can give them,” you said. Rick smiled at you, but then his face fell back to his usual worried expression. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” you asked.

“I just sometimes think this place, these people,” he said, “it’s just a bit too good to be true.” You nodded, understanding completely. Everyone in your group had been skeptic from the moment Aaron had brought you in. It felt like slipping into a Twilight Zone episode.

Oddly, Michonne was the one that was urging everyone to give Deanna and her community a chance, and considering she had immediately seen what Woodbury was from the start, you trusted her judgment. However, you knew that Rick still had his concerns.

“Are you thinking about leaving?” you asked and your tone wasn’t accusatory or filled with malice. You were genuinely curious about where his head was at right now. Rick mulled over your words for a few moments before shaking his head.

“No, but I can’t think of letting my guard down. A place like this can fall at any moment and if it does, we need to be gone before that can happen,” he explained. Rick’s thumb began creating circles over the back of your hand as you walked.

“I know you’re worried,” you said, “and I hope you know that if it ever came to that, that I would be by your side. I’d go with you without question.” Rick smiled over at you and then pulled you into his side.

“How did I get so lucky?” he whispered in your ear.

“The world ended, baby,” you told him with a wink. Rick chuckled and kissed the side of your head. “And whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with me, Grimes.”

“I got no issue with that, (Y/N),” he said.

“But you still have concerns,” you said. It wasn’t a question. Whether he realized it or not, you could read him like a book no matter what. “Our people are going to be fine. You have to give them more credit.”

“They aren’t who I’m worried about,” he revealed.

“Then what is it, Rick?” you asked, pulling him to a stop. He sighed, glancing around at the trees as if he could see the answer between their trunks.

“What if…,” he trailed off, trying to collect his thoughts. You waited patiently. “What if I lose myself again? After Shane and then Lori… Our family needs me now more than ever and what if I can’t handle it?”

“That’s not going to happen, Rick,” you said. “And if does? We’ll handle it. Nobody expects you to be perfect all the time. We’ve all seen what this world has done to people. It has taken something from all of us, but we’ve always come back. Hell, we know loss too well.”

“I feel like I’m not doin’ enough,” he admitted.

“It’s all in your head,” you assured him. “I know none of this has been easy, but I am not going anywhere. Do you hear me?” Taking his face in your hands, you made him look you in the eyes. “I’m. Right. Here.” Rick nodded and leans his forehead against yours.

“I know,” he whispered. “This place is going to need a lot of work, (Y/N). We need to teach them how to survive or more people are going to die. And if we can’t? I don’t know how I’m going to keep them safe. I failed too many of us already.”

“Is this about Beth?” you asked. Rick’s eyes fell close at her name. Beth’s death had affected all of you. Maggie, Rick, and Daryl had taken it particularly hard. You knew Rick had seen Beth as his responsibility for a while now. They had grown closer since he had saved her father from the Walker bite.

Rick hadn’t hesitated when Daryl had located the youngest Greene at Grady. He had done everything he could to get her back. You still remember the relief on his face when Dawn had let her go and he took her in his arm and kissed her head. Then everything had gone wrong with the exchange and you had to watch as Daryl nearly shattered right then and there in that hallway. “It wasn’t your fault, Rick,” you said softly.

“I should have… I should have never trusted the deal. We should have gone in there fully armed and taken her back. I told Daryl and Maggie that I would bring her back to them.”

“Nobody could have predicted what happened to her,” you said. “Beth was as strong as anyone I knew and I miss her with everything I have, but her death was not your fault.”

“He cared about her,” Rick said and you knew he was talking about Daryl.

“I know.” Rick leaned heavily on you as you ran your hands down his back. “You can’t carry the weight of everyone’s pain on your shoulders, Rick.” He pulled back and looked down at you, scanning your face with adoration in his eyes.

“You always do know the right things to say, beautiful,” he whispered. You smiled up at him, letting your hands trail down his neck. He glanced at your lips, but before you could pull him to you, groans reached your ears. Rick sighed. “Never a good moment, huh?” he asked as he stepped back and pulled his knife from his belt as the Walkers stumbled towards you.

“Wouldn’t be a good date without Walkers,” you joked, unsheathing your own weapons.

“Is that what this is? A date?” he asked, with a slight chuckle.

“What can I say? I’ll take what I can get,” you said before going after the Walker closest to you. It lunged at you, but you were faster, driving your blade into its skull before it could grab hold of your arm. Rick was taking out two on your left as you kicked out at the one that snuck up on your right. It fell to the ground and you drove your knife between its eyes.

Rick shouted behind you as he fell to the ground with a large Walker falling on top of him. You ran over and tackled the creature, rolling it off of Grimes. It snapped its jaws at you but you jammed your knife into its mouth, cutting through the rotten pallet. Black blood dripped onto your face as you shoved it off of you. “Ugh!” you groaned as you sat up.

“Are you okay?” he asked. You nodded, trying to wipe the thick substance from your face. “Here,” he said, offering his hand. Rick helped you up and examined your face, trying not to laugh.

“It’s not funny,” you said with a scowl.

“No, no, definitely not,” he said as he took the canteen that hung around his shoulder. “Head back.” You tilted your chin to the sky as he poured cool water on your face, rinsing the foul blood from your skin. “Thanks for the save.”

“And look what I got for it,” you said with a pout. Rick used his sleeve to wipe the blood from your face and then rinsed your hair out as well.

“Not really how I imagined washing your hair,” he said in a low voice.

“I’m sure we can do something about that later,” you said as you shook out your hair and looked up at him. He was still trying not to laugh and eventually you gave in, laughing along with him. “Okay, maybe it’s a bit funny.” Rick began laughing louder as he slung the canteen back over his back. Taking you in his arms, he smoothed your hair from your face and tilted your chin up.

“It’s very funny,” he said as he leaned in and kissed you softly. You melted into the kiss, clutching at his wrinkled shirt. Even with the many corpses that surrounded you, you never felt happier than when you were in his arms. Rick’s hand cupped your jaw as he kissed you deeper, sighing between your lips.

When he pulled back, he slid his hands down to your sides and began swaying back and forth. “What are you doing?’ you asked.

“Dancing with you,” he said with a smile.

“You’re insane, you know that?” you asked, but rolled your hands over his shoulders and played along.

“I know.” He leaned his head on top of yours as you swayed. Dropping your head to his shoulder, you breathed him in. You never thought that you would ever have this, have something like him and every moment you spent together, it made you feel whole.

Rick took hold of your arm and spun you out only to spin you back into his chest. You giggled as he took hold of you again. “Only you would want to dance in the middle of woods surrounded by dead Walkers.”

“Don’t act so surprised, (Y/N). You knew what you were getting into when you kissed me the first time.”

“Actually, you kissed me.”

“Did I? Huh,” Rick said with a cheeky smile. “That makes sense, I always was a good judge of character.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Grimes,” you said, tapping his nose playfully. Suddenly, his expression turned serious again.

“I should have told you before, (Y/N),” Rick said, tilting his head and sliding his hand up to caress your cheek.

“What?” you asked.

“I love you,” he said softly. As soon as the words left his lips, you were near to tears. You had waited for him to say those three words for a while now. You had wanted to say it first, but you didn’t think he was ready yet and you didn’t want to push him. “I love you so much.”

You took his face in your hands as well and as a tear rolled from your eye, you smiled. “I love you, Rick Grimes. I have for a long while.”

“I’m sorry it took me so long to say it,” he said.

“Don’t apologize,” you whispered, “but say it again.” Rick grinned at you.

“I love you,” he said with a kiss to your forehead. “I love you.” He kissed your cheek. “I. Love. You,” he said as he placed a firm kiss on your lips. You threw your arms around him as he lifted you up. You wrapped your legs around his waist and he backed you up to a tree. He kissed you fiercely, trailing kisses down your neck and back up. He made the circle three times before you were breathless.

“I hope this means we can make this work,” you said as he peered up at you.

“I think we can,” he said. “And like you said, we’re stuck with each other now.”

“No going back,” you promised.

“No going back,” he repeated. You leaned down and kissed his softly, just the slightest pressure on his lips.

“You know,” you whispered, “I kind of miss the beard.” Rick let out a laugh as he grabbed you around the waist and threw you over his shoulder. “Rick!” you yelled out as he gripped the back of your legs.

“I think I’m going to want that shower now,” he said with a grin. You laughed at that, running your nails down his back. “Come on, beautiful, let’s go home.”

Rick set you down and took you by the hand and together, you headed back to Alexandria with a new outlook on your future. Because no matter what happened next, you would face it together with your family behind you. Always.

TAGS: @felicisimor @thanossexual @yes-sir-hotchner

378 notes · View notes

op-peccatori · 4 years ago

Text

Hopefully, Yours (part 2) | MLQC Victor

Fandom: Mr Love Queen’s Choice

Pairing: Victor/Fem!Reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 8326

Summary: It took some cake, a friend, and some impulsive behaviour, but they got there. (part 2 of Hopefully, Yours)

Warnings/Tags: making out, language, my cheeseball antics

a/n: I was afraid of opening this doc at one point because every time I did I added more words to it ;; Also accidentally deleted the first draft, so I hope I didn’t leave anything out for this one.

[video]

After Hours | Victor and Y/n

200, 280 views • Feb 8th, 2020

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JTV ✓

1.19M subscribers

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5100 comments

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somsom 5 minutes ago

They’re both so nice. Victor’s always made out to be this heartless CEO, so it’s nice to see this side of him :)

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tooktiktook 7 minutes ago

hmmmMMM

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cheribb 15 minutes ago

their eyes said more than enough <3 <3

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saltqueen 16 minutes ago

what i wouldn’t give to have someone look that soft over me

⌨⌨⌨

Victor eyed the cheerful grin splitting Jason’s face, just a little uneasy in his seat.

While having eager eyes on him was not an unfamiliar experience, he’d never been in a position where he was expected to talk about his feelings on camera. Not that he was about to confess in front of the entire crew of the show, but when it came to you the lines always got a little too blurry for his comfort.

He got a little too eager.

“Just be nice,” Jason had instructed gently, and Victor steeled himself.

They started, quite predictably, by asking him about his ideal type. Resisting the urge to scoff, he tried to stick to the script he’d worked on with Goldman, who had insisted on being present for today’s shoot. Not that Victor was complaining; it wasn’t exactly part of the job description, but Goldman had been enthusiastic, which Victor could appreciate and would certainly reward.

Goldman had also spent most of yesterday handling the public relations department in his absence, preparing them for his appearance on the show. A tentative plan would be sent to him by tomorrow morning. He had faith in them, believing that they would be able to make this look good for him.

“Someone who works hard,” he answered, knowing you would laugh at that. “Who can be themselves around me, someone I can be myself around. Someone...kind.”

The times you’ve spent in Souvenir flit through his mind, some quiet and some full of bright-eyed chatter.

“You’ve known Y/n for some time, right?” the interviewer asked. She looked nice, but he’d been on the block long enough to know that even the kindest faces can often hide the sharpest teeth.

“Yes.”

“What do you think of her?”

“She’s a very kind person,” he said easily. “One of the most hard-working and inspiring people I’ve ever met.”

You would surely gape like a fool after seeing this. It was a little embarrassing, but Victor was determined to leave your image shiny after this. He would not have any words of his twisted to give you a bad name. If it got even a fraction of his feelings across, well, that was a bonus he wouldn’t mind having. The intimate setting of the ferris wheel had seemed to help some, but his admittedly indirect confession didn’t reach you as he had hoped.

God, but his father would love this.

“Did you have fun on your date?”

“It was lovely.” They tacked on another question and he nodded. “I...yes, I’d love to do it again.”

It was a little curt, but he didn’t really get what Goldman had meant by ‘nod tenderly with a far-off look.’

What would you think of that?

The interviewer raised a brow, her smile widening. “Let’s get to it, then. How do you feel about her?”

For some bizarre reason, the first thing that had come to his mind at this question was his inexplicable need to check your social idea every day. And the way his heart beats just a little faster when you’ve posted a new picture. How, in moments of weakness, he’d given in and saved a few to his phone. Even a mental reminder of it made him a little hot under the collar.

There were many things he couldn’t even begin to try and explain when it came to you.

Really, the list is endless.

Victor’s current favourite was the video you’d uploaded of eating the tiramisu he’d cooked. He watches it at the end of a bad day and just like that, he feels a little better.

“I think anyone who ends up with her would be the luckiest person in the world,” he said honestly. “She’s beautiful in every single way.”

The last three words were supposed to have stayed in his head, but saying them felt natural. Goldman seemed to approve, shooting him a discreet thumbs up.

When you walk in, sleep-deprived and grumpy but trying to hide it, thinking he won’t catch on as if he isn’t running sharp eyes over every inch of your face. When the first sip of your coffee is too eager, leaving your tongue burnt and him with a pressing need to soothe it with his own. When you eat too much sugar and complain about a stomach-ache; he scolds you for it, but his arms are left straining with the need to wrap themselves around you.

He cherished these moments and wanted every single one all to himself.

She makes me greedy.

“Would you want to be that person?”

Victor laughed, light and incredulous.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

“I guess time will have to answer that question for us,” he said, the ghost of a smile on his lips, leaving it at just the right note to keep viewers hanging—right along with him.

lightscameranaps ✓ @jasonp

Hope y’all enjoyed the episode! #HopefullyYours

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bandanaman @headaccs

@jasonp sooo really sorry about this but we’re kinda dying over here

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raspberrydream @berryberry

@headaccs Victor’s acc is still private. Maybe there’s something there?

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srirachafire @hotsauce

@berryberry But Y/n’s isn’t private, and there’s nothing there. Give it up guys, they’re just friends.

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bandanaman @headaccs

@hotsauce bruh that look?? was not friendship

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raspberrydream @berryberry

@hotsauce those words?? were not friendship

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srirachafire @hotsauce

@headaccs @berryberry you two?? are hopeless romantics

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lightscameranaps ✓ @jasonp

@headaccs honestly? me too D:

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bandanaman @headaccs

@jasonp !!!!!! asdfgdvsd

Closing your Moments and the entire thread discussing the episode, you flop back down onto your mattress. Reaching for your newest plushy, you hug it tight, perhaps a tad too aggressively.

It’s odd. You struggle between the visceral sort of pleasure that comes from a job well done—because the response is terrific—and the trembling nerves that come from watching yourself on a date with Victor.

Watching the episode had been harder than you had expected; you hadn’t quite been expecting the way Victor was looking at you—the intense gaze was a little too convincing, and watching it from the audience’s perspective was flustering.

You spent most of it trying to suppress the inconvenient surges of hope, telling yourself it wasn’t real.

There really was nothing to know. The ferris wheel shot had ended there because you had nothing to say to Victor’s answer. You don’t know if he was referring to his past or his present, but the look in his eyes made it clear: his feelings were still there. Instead of pressing him, you chose to stay quiet, exhaustion clear in your face and sinking deep into your bones.

Victor had seemed to understand and maybe even appreciate it, probably not wanting to discuss it either, and only insisted on dropping you home. The ride to your place had been mostly silent, but you had tried to ask him his thoughts on the day and the shoot. He kept his answers concise, appearing a little distracted, which was so unlike him it made you wonder if he regretted opening up.

You’d spent the entire ride trying to quell the delicate little thing trembling in your chest.

The next video started while you were lost in your thoughts, and it happens to be your individual parts. Curious, you lean in, wincing slightly at the way you were fidgeting.

And then they switch to Victor. You both had to wear the outfits from the date for these, but you still weren't quite expecting the impact his voice alone would have on you.

And as always, those fierce eyes have you freezing in place.

“Let’s get to it, then. How do you feel about her?”

He looks unfazed by the question. Of course, they go over the questions with you beforehand, but you still remember how nervous you’d felt when asked how you felt about him; Victor’s eyes flick towards the camera, filled with intent, as if addressing you—and you close the laptop with a snap, your throat tight.

You don’t have to watch that right away.

You had been very careful about what to say, how to act, channeling your inner-Victor to adopt a marble-smooth expression. Say nice things about him? Easy, you didn’t even have to make anything up. Imply just enough to keep people guessing.

Keep your unwanted feelings to yourself.

Palm coming to rest over your heart, pressing down as if it would alleviate the ache there, you try to sort through your thoughts. You never really thought there was a chance, but to hear it confirmed was a blow you weren’t prepared for.

It’s ridiculous to feel so insecure, you think. You feel like you lost a competition you had never even had the chance to compete in. And over an unnamed, mysterious figure? So silly!

But another part of your mind says it’s okay to feel this way, that it’s only natural. You’ve had such strong feelings for Victor for so long. And all of these feelings, the good and the bad, are yours; the wounds of your heart, the light in your laughter. Fighting them would only make you suffer. The love and the hurt are part of you, both important in their own right.

Knowing all of that doesn’t make it easier, though.

After all, Victor had alluded to his feelings on camera, to your face. Knowing him, he would never do that unless he was sure about the person.

“This fucking sucks,” you admit out loud, and at the heels of your words come the tears. Because, to make it even worse, people really seem to think it’s you.

You can’t blame them, because even you had been taken in by his soft looks. Anyone watching would believe he’s smitten with you. Good for the show, terrible for you.

You’re not strong enough to reply to them, to tell them you aren’t that fortunate, and have been hoping Victor, or someone from his team, would put a stop to it.

But there hasn’t been any word from them and you curse out loud at the fact that he expects you to do something about it. As if there’s any more emphasis needed, your phone vibrates. Unlocking it with a miserable sigh, you scroll down quickly.

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Minor [19:40]: am I watching this right? Boss, are you dating the CEO? PLS SAY NO

Chik [20:21]: You bitch. When were you going to tell me you snagged THAT? So I was right back then, ha! Anyway, you two are adorbs. The puppy eyes are disgusting. I’m proud of you.

Chik [20:22]: also...deets. Now. I’ll even throw in a please!!!

Lucien [20:40]: Well, now. I seem to have missed out on quite the opportunity.

Kiro [20:45]: I wish you’d invited me. But I guess it wouldn’t have mattered. I hope he makes you happy, Miss Chips! He better, or else ;P

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Frowning at the texts you scroll back up, hoping, hoping, hoping, and at the sight of the name that always sits at the tip of your tongue, you curl up tighter.

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Victor [21: 05]: Are you okay?

Y/N [21:20]: I’m fine. Moments seems to be blowing up, haha. Did you watch the episode?

Victor [21: 20]: Yes.

Victor [21: 21]: Did you?

‎

You pause at that, looking guiltily at your laptop. You had, sort of. Fighting off your own thoughts had taken up most of your attention. Resolving to watch it again—a clear display of previously dormant masochistic tendencies, roused by Victor— and actually pay attention this time, you turn back to the screen.

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Y/N [21:22]: Yeah, but not the individual parts. It was nice, they made it seem so real! But we’re going to have to say something to let them know there’s nothing like that.

‎

You wait anxiously for a reply, a part of you clearly suffering from delusion hoping he’d oppose that. When there’s no text from him for a few minutes, you plug your phone in to charge and get out of bed, heading for a quick shower before you get something to eat.

Heartbreak hasn't been enough to curb your appetite, and you feel more than ready to let dessert have the chance to make you feel better.

Who needs Victor when you have cake, right?

Just as you’re halfway through cutting a slice of the cake Jason—well, his team—had sent as thanks, trying to keep your thoughts away from the bottle of wine you‘ve got tucked away, your doorbell rings, breaking the melancholic silence of your apartment. A part of you wants to roll your eyes at your dramatics, while the other feels you have the right to wallow for as long as you need to.

The irrational side of you stirs once more, conjuring thoughts of Victor rushing over, and you peep through the hole with a wildly thumping heart.

Lucien’s serene smile chases those thoughts away, and you open the door with a sheepish grin.

He looks a little tired, his dark bangs ruffled; unlike his usual sharp appearance, he looks impossibly soft in his barn red sweater and comfortable looking track pants. He’s also got a folder tucked under one arm.

“Hi!”

“Sorry to drop by so late,” he greets you, his warm eyes bringing you a little comfort instantly. “But you mentioned you’d be working on Miracle Finder tomorrow and I wanted you to have the chance to go over my remarks before that.”

“Lucien! Thank you,” you insist, waving away his apology. “Would you like to come in? I’ve got cake.”

He searches your face for a moment, and his eyes narrow the slightest bit. You feel a little self-conscious in your over-sized sweatshirt and shorts, but it’s not like he hasn’t seen you in various states of disarray before.

“Can’t really say no to that. Let me get my laptop,” he finally agrees. You wait at the door as he gets it, before leading him in. But you notice his curious, inquisitive looks, so subtle and so Lucien, as he toes off his shoes.

“Everything okay?” You reach for another plate, cutting a second slice as Lucien takes a seat at the table.

“Yes, of course. It’s just,” he hesitates, and there’s that odd scrutiny again. “I wasn’t expecting you to be alone.”

“On a Sunday evening?” The first bite of the cake tastes like sweet comfort over the taste of despondency, and you send a silent thanks to Jason. “I spent the day napping.”

“Well, after the show I just watched,” he says, quite slyly in your opinion. “I wasn’t even sure if you’d be home.”

“I didn’t know you were interested in dating shows.” You’re aware your tone is more than a little petulant, but Lucien only laughs around a mouthful of the cake.

“I am if you’re in one,” he retorts. “This is quite nice, by the way.”

“The director, Jason sent it. And, honestly, it wasn’t planned. We were supposed to have Kai and Hollow on, but they ended up clashing horribly. Jason asked me and Victor was around, so…” you trail off, uncomfortable.

“Is that why you texted me that day?” He seems to have remembered your message, and you wince slightly. You had texted him later with an apology, but hadn’t really expected him to cotton on. He doesn't look mad, just expectant.

“Well, yes, but Jason wanted, he wanted Victor.” Stumbling over your words, heat suffuses your skin as you flounder for a moment.

Lucien watches you with the eyes of a fox and the understanding of a good friend. “Just Jason?”

“Huh?”

“Was it just Jason who wanted Victor?” he asks, tilting his head as your mouth purses.

No, no, of course it wasn’t. You stare down at your half-eaten cake, the other half of it beginning to churn in your stomach. His small, soft smiles. His scent. His rants on street food and the way he dragged you away from food that would ‘absolutely make you ill, you absolute dummy’ as Jason resigned himself to having to cut all of that out. It all comes back in a rush, your head left feeling heavy.

And then it feels the weight of a hand, as Lucien reaches over to pat it gently. “Never mind. Why don’t you get your organizer and we can go over tomorrow’s episode?”

Relieved, grateful and slightly emotional over his silent acceptance, you rush to your bedroom to find your notebook and laptop, barely catching the light of your phone screen before it went black. Unplugging and checking it as you exited the room with your materials in hand, your train of thought comes to a screeching halt.

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Victor [21:59]: Do you really believe that?

Victor (2 missed calls)

Victor [22:15]: Y/n.

Victor [22:16]: ...Did you fall asleep?

Victor [22:18]: Dummy. Goodnight.

‎‎

Unwilling to delve into what his first text means, you shift your thick planner in your arms and type a quick reply.

‎‎

Y/N [22:19]: Hi! Sorry. I went to get something to eat and then Lucien dropped by. We’re going to get to work haha ^^

Victor [22:19]: …

‎‎

You wait for a whole minute before Lucien calls for you, and let your hand fall, phone locked, with a sigh.

Well, at least he’ll be happy to hear you’re working hard.

Sinking into familiar, engaging discussions with Lucien is easy. Even with the thoughts of Victor looming at the back of your mind, you straighten out a plan for the shoot. Lucien listens to your input carefully, adding his own notes as you squint at yours. His voice, familiar and soothing, lulls you, distracting you from yourself for a short while.

Before you know it, it’s eleven and you’ve got a fantastic plan in hand.

“I’m sorry I kept you so late,” you say for the second time in a minute, and he gives you an exasperated look. “And thank you.”

“I’ve told you, there’s no need for all that between us,” Lucien repeats, crossing one long leg over the other as he adopts a thoughtful look. “However, perhaps you could satisfy my curiosity regarding one thing.”

“What is it?”

You were prepared for a philosophical question. What he comes up with is, in your opinion, way more difficult to answer.

“Why aren’t you with Victor?” he asks seriously. You blink, uncomprehending.

“Like, right now?”

“Right now, or in general. I didn’t think he would just...let you be,” Lucien mutters the last part under his breath, but you still catch it. He continues to say something about possessive bastards, but you’re not touching that.

“I think you’ve misunderstood,” you say, slowly, with a nervous laugh, shoulders hunching a little. “All of that was just for the camera. Victor and I aren’t like that.”

“But you have feelings for him,” Lucien points out, cutting straight to the heart of the matter and yours. Really, this is almost cruel. Lucien turns to face you fully as you sigh and sink back into the couch.

“I do.” It’s the first time you’ve admitted it out loud. Sure, some of the people in your life have had an idea, but you’ve never said it. Lucien seems like a good person to start with. “But he doesn’t feel the same way, so.”

And you’ve never said that out loud either. It hurts, as you put it out into the universe. As if shying away from it before would have increased your chances.

Lucien looks at you oddly. “Did he say that? Because the way he looks at you says otherwise. It’s quite embarrassing.”

You feel heat creeping up the back of your neck.

“I’ve never told him how I feel,” you mumble, pressing the side of your cheek into the soft fabric, hoping it would swallow you up.

“Then how do you know how he feels?” Lucien continues to probe, and you exhale forcefully because it’s so clear to you; why isn’t it ever as clear to everyone else?

And Lucien is supposed to be your smart friend!

‘Well, there’s also someone else in his life but I can’t exactly say that.’

“Because it’s Victor,” you declare with an emphatic sweep of your hands, hoping it would somehow get your point across, that it would explain how unattainable he is. Just as you do, two things happen successively.

One: Lucien looks at you as if he wants to boink you on the head or laugh really loudly. He does neither, but his mouth twitches violently.

And two: there’s a series of loud, heavy knocks on your door, before the culprit seems to remember you have a doorbell and rings that instead. It only rings once, but you can sense that the person is still there.

Exchanging alarmed looks with Lucien, you rise to your feet and shuffle towards the door.

“Let me,” Lucien murmurs, stopping you before you can reach the entrance, and steps forward to look through the peephole. His only reaction is a quick, sharp exhale before he steps back to unlock the door.

Without telling you who was just knocking at your door like a maniac.

“Wait, who i-” the words fall away with your panicked thoughts, as Lucien opens the door to reveal your uninvited visitor.

It really is Victor this time, with his chest heaving as if he’d run up the stairs. Victor, with his inky hair pushed back carelessly, in dark grey sweats and a light grey t-shirt and indoor slippers.

Victor, with a furious look in his eyes as he pushes past Lucien, who looks a little too entertained in the face of such ire.

“Sorry to intrude on your cosy evening,” he says, after a short pause, through clenched teeth. You stare at him in disbelief, unable to form actual words at the moment. It feels as if a concentrated storm itself has swept into your living room, ready to swallow you up.

Of course, a part of you would be more than okay with that. Even with that knife-sharp glint in his eyes, you can’t help but want to throw yourself at it, let it graze the softest parts of you, in an emotional variation of bloodletting.

Sometimes you surprise yourself with the things you think.

Maybe you should’ve changed into nicer pyjamas after all, damn it.

“Victor? What-is everything okay?” You look him over carefully, seeing no visible signs of injury. The stony look on his face, however, keeps you from coming too close. What could you possibly have done now?

Swiftly, you run through a list of work-related tasks. Nope. Nothing. You’ve been sure to give it your all this week just so Victor wouldn’t feel the need to call you.

Even now, though, something under your skin starts buzzing, as it always does when his entire attention is on you.

“Yes. Why wouldn’t everything be okay?” he says mutinously, crossing his arms over his chest. Okay, you’re sensing more than a little hostility here.

And, because life is unfair, bitchy is also a good look on Victor.

“Well,” you draw out, looking past him at Lucien, who shrugs lightly. Victor frowns at the exchange. He levels a downright lethal glare at Lucien, who tilts his head in clear interest. Kinda hot, but you should probably keep that to yourself lest you push Victor to the point of spitting fire. “It’s...late...and you’re here…?”

That has his mouth doing that little spasm it does when he’s pissed. “And I notice I’m not the only one. What, is it just me who’s barred from coming to your place this late?”

“Well, n-no,” you stammer, looking once more at Lucien who seems content to watch and be unhelpful. “But Lucien was just here to talk about tomorrow’s episode.”

Why are you here?

The question seems to hang in the air, unsaid yet clear.

Victor says nothing, standing tall in your living room like an indignant matron. You feel helpless, confused, elated and increasingly offended because of the implication in his words that only catches up to you now.

You pick the path of offense.

“But what, exactly, did you think Lucien was doing here?” you ask, your tone turning decidedly cooler. He returns your glare. Behind him, you see Lucien trying to hide a smile. “You seem to be under the impression that I make it a habit of entertaining people in my evenings?”

Victor blinks at that, arms coming loose, and you hold up a hand.

“And even if I did want to have friends over at night,” you say loudly, through gritted teeth. “What business is it of yours?”

“It’s inappropriate,” he insists.

“No, what’s inappropriate is you coming into my house and telling me who I should, or should not, be spending time with, regardless of the time.” Much to your frustration, you find yourself blinking back tears as your voice cracks towards the end.

Victor deflates at that, the ice in his expression melting in the face of your furious tears; Lucien, concern clear on his face, takes a step towards you. Your eyes squeeze shut, as if that would hide you from them; anger and embarrassment war within you at not only crying in front of Victor, but to have a quiet Lucien witnessing this ridiculous drama.

Where did your peaceful day go?

You hear footsteps, hesitant and barely audible, come closer, feel the heat from a body as it nears yours.

“I’m sorry. I’ll leave.” It’s Victor.

Your eyes snap open to the sight of his back, your feet carrying you forward without the aid of your thoughts, a hand curling loosely into his t-shirt.

Leave? Just like that?

He stops in his tracks, looking back down at you in surprise. You’re not sure what he sees as you keep your eyes fixed on his shoulder, but it makes him sigh softly.

A thumb wipes under your eyes, gentle, and strong arms wrap around you carefully, pulling you into an—unreasonably broad, you think—chest; his comforting scent envelopes you, pulling you back from the edge.

It’s frustrating. You want to yell at him for barging in like a lunatic. But you don’t want him to leave. You want to sink into his steady embrace and allow the solace it brings.

With your face pressed to his t-shirt, you miss the way he looks back at Lucien, who nods and turns to leave, but not before holding Victor’s gaze for a moment longer—you don’t see the warmth drain from his face, the vicious warning warning clear in his eyes.

Victor pulls you closer, nodding once.

If Lucien’s answering smile is a touch more resigned than amused, neither of them can really acknowledge it.

You try to pull back when you hear the door close gently, but Victor cards a hand through your hair and you slump back into his embrace.

“I’m sorry,” he repeats, stroking your hair, with a gentle hesitance uncharacteristic for the decisive man. “That was...extremely inappropriate of me. I should not have done that. I can leave. I should.”

He should. But neither of you move. His heart beats a little faster, the sound clearer the longer your ear remains pressed into his chest.

With cotton in your mouth, your mind totally mush with the knowledge that Victor’s hugging you, and with the little voice yelling that he does not get to hold you after driving you to tears—it takes you a moment to form a response.

But you can’t resist. “So what you’re saying is you made an impulsive decision.”

The soft motions of his hand pause before he huffs into your hair. There’s no other response, and it makes you smile a little.

“Why did you?” you finally ask. Victor quite visibly lost his cool. While he did seem to have something against Lucien, this was a bit much. You hadn’t been aware that the hostility ran this deep.

He tucks your head under his chin, the arm around your waist tightening, and as the anger subsides, your face begins to heat up as you realize how intimate this is. But Victor seems content to stay like this, and your heart hammers when you feel something brush the crown of your head.

“Dummy,” he mutters, and yes, his words are slightly muffled by your hair, and you feel the urge to stick your head in the refrigerator. “You had that guy over this late at night. Do you really need to ask?”

“It’s just Lucien,” you respond, and this time he lets you pull your head away to look at you with abject disbelief.

“Just? There’s no just with that guy.” He seems serious, so you swallow the laughter bubbling up.

“Lucien is a dear friend,” you assure him. “You were really that worried about it?”

“Worried,” Victor repeats, staring at you. Your confusion is clear in your face, as the feeling that you’re missing something creeps in. “Worried. Yes. I was worried.”

You nod encouragingly, and take a quick step back when he laughs. It isn’t one of his airy laughs, that escapes him when he finds something funny. It’s low, almost strangled—and then he steps forward, expression melting into sheer intent.

When he speaks, his voice is a full octave lower and it scrambles your brains with shameful ease.

“Since he was the one you considered over me for our date that day. Yes, I suppose I was worried,” he muses, matching every unsteady step you take backwards with one towards you. You refrain from pointing out that it was for a show, and all too soon, the back of the sofa hits your hips and Victor looms over you.

You tuck the part about him knowing you wanted to ask Lucien first away for later. Victor, his soothing scent, the heat from his breath, his tempestuous gaze—your senses flood with him.

“Y-yeah. But you didn’t need to be, he always helps us out,” you point out confusedly, and he gives you a familiar, unimpressed look that brings a small, and odd, measure of relief.

“What kind of a person would I be,” he says, and your stomach swoops as he leans over you, hands resting on the top of the sofa as you lean back. “If I let dangerous men like him think they have a chance with you?”

“Dangerous? He’s…” The rest of his words catch up and you can’t think, tongue struggling to form coherent speech. “Not...dangerous?”

“Too dangerous,” he murmurs, lips brushing over your temple. Something in the back of your throat trembles. “Even if I don’t have the right, I…”

He doesn’t continue.

Holding your breath, you count to five before releasing it, pulse beating an anticipatory beat in your veins. “Why should anyone think they don’t have a chance with me?”

You know he hasn’t, but with how everything in you stills after asking that question, you wonder if he stopped time.

You’re not sure if it’s the right question to have asked, or the worst.

But it gives him pause, and when the tip of your tongue slips out to wet your lips, his eyes slide down to your mouth. A large hand slides up your spine to rest at the back of your head, your skin erupting with goosebumps at the touch.

Your lips part on the softest sound and it makes something rumble in his chest, quiet but clear with how close he is.

It gives you what you’ve been dreaming of—Victor’s lips falling over yours, soft, with a rushed breath and fervent eyes, something desperate at the edge of it. Everything goes quiet, with only your blood pounding in your ears. It feels as if every inch of you is awake in a tingly sort of way, your thoughts deserting you at the way he looks at you, ready to devour.

There’s hunger in his eyes, and you feel faint when it hits you.

It’s also his answer, you realize, mouth opening to say something, anything, and he pulls you back, kissing you fiercely. Something in you caves, spilling into your blood, setting it alight with a burst of sparking desire.

Victor kisses with his entire body, like he does everything else: controlling every inch of it, sweeping your mind clean, licking into your mouth with the determination that drives his every action, to conquer.

But you’ve been determined to match him since the day you first met him, all too eager to push back and clash. You don’t mind the clack of teeth, the lack of rhythm, and Victor only presses in harder as your arms slide over his shoulders, fingers weaving into his hair. Your tongue is a sly thing that licks along his, your mouth a clever warm weapon that sucks at it, and he unravels.

Hands that were so careful lose their caution as they dig into the sides of your hips, slinking down and hooking around your thighs as he lifts you up, your legs wrapping around his waist.

“You’re not stopping me,” he rasps against your lips, almost questioning, pupils blown wide. He looks so good you might just lose your mind, and this is after a kiss.

Taking a page out of his book, you kiss him again.

He carries you around the sofa—with a strength you’ll be sure to admire deeply once you’ve regained the ability to form thoughts—even as he sucks bruises into the delicate skin of your neck, sitting down with you sinking into his lap.

You’re shivering, you realize, at this sudden fulfilment of a desperate, impossible wish. Your knees press into the sides of his thighs as Victor kisses the corners of your mouth, the curve of your upper lip, the plush, swollen jut of your lower lip—and you feel deliriously drunk.

He watches you carefully.

“Oh,” you say, half-slurring, kissed stupid. “That’s why.”

“Hm,” he agrees, nuzzling the side of your face. His eyes are bright, his arms a grounding touch around your back. “No one should think they get to have this.”

“No one but you?” It’s meant to be clever, sharper, but it comes out shy instead. He nips at the shell of your ear, and you can’t bring yourself to be mad about it.

“If you allow it,” he confirms. He presses his lips to the soft skin behind your ear.

Something swells within you, sweet, sudden and threatening to dissolve you into tears. It breaks open, everything you’ve worked so hard to suppress spilling out like hoarded treasure out of a box now too small to hold it.

“I like you.” It comes out in a rush, and you slap your hands over your face. This time, his low chuckle rings clear in your ears. But when your breath hitches on a sob, his grip on you tightens, lips finding your forehead. “I really like you. So much. I have for a while. At the fair, all of it, I wasn’t...wasn’t acting.”

“What, and you thought I was?” He looks a little offended when you take a peek at his face. But the sight of his ruffled hair and kissed-puffy lips sends a hot, thrilled jolt through you, and you have to restrain yourself from pouncing. “I have many skills. Acting, admittedly, is not one of them.”

“I thought maybe it was a hidden passion or something,” you mutter, trying to repress a wet laugh at the withering look he gives you, gentle hands wiping at your eyes. “What, you were great!”

“Nope. That was all real,” he declares, pulling you in to rest against him, your head on his shoulder. You feel a little awkward, but that’s mostly outweighed by how much you want to stay here. “...well, maybe I was a little…”

“Nicer than usual?” you offer, and he huffs into your hair. “Cheesy, like you binge-read several romance novels the night before?”

“Cheesy?” He protests, and you laugh with warmth building and rushing through you. “I thought you liked all that.”

“I do.” This time, the kiss he presses into the crown of your head is firmer.

“Then I’ll do it.” You look up at him, a little enchanted, a little bewildered, but the former wins out as the corners of his mouth curl up. “Every silly thing you want to do. Oh, and I really like you too.” It’s almost a scoff, but the tremor in his voice and the flush that spreads across his skin speaks his truth.

“Really?” you ask, your grin a little mad and ridiculously beatific. It feels unreal, the joy and relief spreading through you; he pecks the tip of your nose.

“Have I ever given you reason to doubt me?” Victor asks, and the solemn sincerity in his voice prompts you to deliver a loud, smacking kiss to his cheek, just because you can. To your unending joy, the lobes of his ears are almost impossibly red.

“Never,” you assure him, peppering more kisses over his skin, fascinating by the sight of him pinkening. A thought strikes you, dampening your rising spirits. “I thought...thought there was someone else.”

He makes a soft, surprised noise in his throat, disbelief winning out over the tenderness for a moment. “Who?”

“I don’t know!” You press your face into the side of his neck, inhaling his comforting scent, hoping it would help with the remnants of hurt. “Some mystery goddess.”

He’s quiet as you nuzzle his rapidly warming skin, feeling the first hints of sheer mortification settle in at the way your voice just cracked. He whispers something.

“Sorry?”

Victor clears his throat. “Just you.” He buries his nose in your hair before you have the chance to lean back like you want to. “It’s only ever been you.”

Not expecting the sincere confession, it feels as if the breath was punched out of you. “Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

He toys with a strand of your hair, curling it absently around a finger. “I didn’t want to overstep. And to make you feel like you had to reciprocate.”

You stay silent, sensing that he has more to say, even though you want nothing more than to wrap yourself around him and never let go.

“I’ll admit that I feared you would feel pressured to be with me. And that would...I would rather see you happy with someone else, than see you miserable with me.”

“I could never be miserable with you,” you protest at once, feeling almost offended by the mere suggestion.

“I’m not...I know I can be difficult.” The words fall out in a rushed exhale, as if he wants to get them out before they can be swallowed; you feel weak with the force of your emotions. “But I can try for you. I did that day. I wanted you to relax, to have fun, like you do with your friends. I didn’t want you to be so...cautious.”

It’s true, you realize guiltily, that there are times where you can’t completely relax in Victor’s company. Those are the days where your feelings sit a little heavier in your stomach, when his words strike a little sharper. The thought of disappointing him, of doing something not to his taste, of judgment, held you back.

But the day of the fair had been different. He met you halfway, maybe even more than that, and never said a word of complaint. You’d assumed that had been for the camera, though.

“Please,” he says with a roll of his eyes, and you realize you’d said that out loud. “No, that was…” He lowers his gaze, long lashes fanning over the tops of his cheekbones. “That was to show you that you can have fun with me too. I...like you. The way you are. Every bit. The determined, unyielding parts.”

You stare at him.

“The hurting, unsure parts,” he says, a little quieter. “The silly, ridiculously cute parts—don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what,” you ask, your overworked mind trying to process his words, knowing your smile is probably embarrassingly dopey.

He scowls at you. “Just be yourself with me. Dummy is fine.”

“Victor,” you exclaim all of a sudden, startling him. “How am I supposed to stay standing in the face of you saying things like that?”

He rolls his eyes again. “First of all, you’re sitting right now, and I don’t plan to let you move for a while.” Predictably, you feel a little lightheaded at that. “And as for the future...then don’t try to stand, dummy. You can just rest here.” He pulls your head to rest on his shoulder, patting it firmly.

“I’m going to die,” you say with absolute certainty into his shoulder. “I can’t survive this.”

“You have to,” he mutters dryly, tucking you more firmly against him. “Haven’t you seen the discussions? Our ‘love story’ can’t end in your death, too many would be left devastated.”

“Including you?” The look you direct at him is positively vulpine, and he snorts, pushing your head back down. Bully.

The titillated fluttering in your stomach makes you smile.

“...I can’t become a widower before we even get married,” he says solemnly, and you can nearly feel the blood drain from your face as you rear back.

The corners of his mouth twitch with something like mischief, and the smack you deliver to his bicep is perfectly justified.

The undoubtedly chiselled muscle you feel very briefly will also require further rumination once you’re alone.

He’s cracking marriage jokes, no doubt referring to the few comments gushing about a secret wedding. An hour ago, you had been under the impression that he was madly in love with some mystery figure.

Like a bird just freed, your heart flutters at the thought of him having feelings for you.

“Say it again.”

To his credit, he doesn’t do you the disservice of pretending he doesn’t know what you’re asking for. He clears his throat, eyes flicking to the side before finding their way back to yours.

“I like you,” he says, a little lower, a lot deeper. “Dummy.”

You wish you could see what your face was doing, because it makes his eyes go really, really soft. Now that you aren’t weighed down by the frantic need to hide your feelings from one of the most astute people you’ve ever met, you feel like you could float away the way you’ve seen Gavin do, just from how free and happy you feel.

“Just for the record,” you say quietly. “I like you the way you are too.”

“Hm?”

“Even when you’re being a jerk.” He tweaks your ear lightly, rolling his eyes when you giggle. Your heart beats a harsh beat as you try to come up with the right words. “But you’re also the best man I know. When you have it together, and when you don’t—I’ll be there for you. Always.” The way he’s always been there for you.

He kisses the tip of your nose, his pretty eyes a little shinier than before.

“We should aim for a real date first.” He sounds decisive, and a little hoarse.

“...I have a list of places I thought would be good for our first date,” you admit, eyes still locked with his despite your shy admission. He looks pleased, always happy when you take the initiative, and you watch his mouth do that tender thing for a second before leaning in for a swift kiss, catching his lower lip between your teeth as you pull away.

“Good.” His head falls back onto the sofa as your lips trail down his neck curiously, mouthing at the slope of his adam’s apple. Just because you can. “Send it to me.”

“Good,” you murmur, breath hitching in your throat as his hands curl over your waist, skimming the hem of your sweatshirt. “We’re doing this, then.”

“Most definitely.” With how throaty his voice has gotten as you reach his clavicle, a gentle explorer, you’re not sure words will be your allies for much longer.

“Will you be my boyfriend then, Mr. CEO?” you ask playfully, tasting the words in your mouth. Victor makes a soft, content sound in his throat.

“I’m all yours,” he affirms, relishing the words in his mouth, raising his head to look at you through hooded eyes. You both know it, just a little, but saying the words brings a giddy, vulnerable sort of feeling with them. “And you…”

With no need for hope, just certainty, you rise up to kiss him softly.

“I’m yours.”

BTS:

Goldman stares at Jason in horrified disbelief, shocked by the words that had just left the director’s mouth. He glances at his boss, whose only reaction had been to cock a brow.

“Would you be open to replacing Kai?”

“I’m...not really one for such shows,” Victor says, quite delicately in Goldman’s opinion, knowing the man usually has no qualms about being savagely blunt.

“I’m aware. I just thought it would be something different, something that would let people see a different side of you,” Jason explains, still completely at ease.

Victor’s expression makes it quite clear he doesn’t care about people seeing other sides of him.

“Who’s the other participant? Did Hollow come back?” Goldman asks, curious despite himself. In his very personal opinion, which he will definitely be keeping to himself, it might be nice for Victor’s image if people saw he isn’t always heartless.

“Oh, no. She didn’t,” Jason says pleasantly. But the look in his eyes is almost hawklike as he keeps them locked on Victor. “I asked Y/n to do it instead. She agreed.”

Now, to the untrained eye, Victor gives no outward reaction to that statement.

But Goldman sees the way his brow twitches, the way his lips purse the slightest bit. He wonders if Jason, as a director with many years of experience under his belt, caught it too.

“She agreed?” Victor asks, sounding as if he doesn’t quite believe it.

“Yes,” Jason answers, suddenly distracted as he glances at his wristwatch. He sighs, a touch too dramatic to be convincing, but Goldman doesn’t think Victor cares about that. “But I understand. We wouldn’t want you to do something you’re not interested in. I have to go check on her, we’ll keep you updated.”

Something is happening here, Goldman realizes. Jason isn’t rushing out, but seems to be waiting for something.

Victor, staring at the surface of the coffee table, is struggling.

Goldman struggles too. He struggles not to roll his eyes in abject exasperation, to pray for divine patience. Why is he like this? Of course, to step into such an obvious trap surely goes against all the instincts he’s honed over the years, but none of that matters when it comes to the delicate matters of the heart!

Instead, he catches Jason’s eyes, pushing his glasses up his nose, eyes glinting.

“But who else would you ask to step in on such short notice?” Goldman asks, pointedly.

And finally, Goldman holds his breath as the ghost of a smirk passes over Jason’s mouth.

This is it.

“Oh, it shouldn’t be a problem. Y/n said she could call Professor Lucien, having already guessed Victor wouldn’t be, um, up for it. She really knows you well, huh?” Jason informs them cheerfully, and even Goldman isn’t expecting that. He thought Jason would go for the ‘who will help poor y/n’ route.

It’s obvious manipulation, and they all know it. Knowing Victor, he will stubbornly refuse to give in and suffer for it. At least, the way he’s glaring at Jason seems to indicate that.

Goldman rushes through several justifications in his head, forming a rapidly coherent argument as to why he should do it, carefully keeping ‘if you don’t want to see her with someone else, suck it up’ and ‘please, please, watching you sulk is really sad I can’t do it’ off the list.

Surely, Victor wouldn’t let the sexy professor sweep you off your feet? He’s heard the man talk, that kind of smooth talk should not be allowed and holy hell, Jason has played this really well.

“They do get along well, so it should work,” Jason muses, slathering a little more icing on his three-tier cake of clear-cut manipulation, drama, and subterfuge.

“I’ll do it.” It’s said through a tightened jaw, but it rings clear in the silence of the room. Goldman abandons his mental speech, head whipping around to stare at Victor.

“Oh?” Jason sounds genuinely surprised, as if he hadn’t been aiming for this from the start.

“Yes,” comes the answer, leaving no room for argument.

“Are you sure?” Jason asks, oddly somber, finally abandoning the pretense. So he is in possession of some morals, who would have thought?

“Give me the briefing,” Victor says, shoulders set in a firm, determined line Goldman is all too familiar with.

Jason relaxes into his seat, relief clear in his face.

And as Victor turns to him, giving him specific instructions about his outfit, cologne and flowers, determined to do this right with that familiar, besotted spark in his eye, Goldman feels warm pride trickle in.

‘We’re gonna get you the girl, boss.’

Aaaaaaand...CUT.

I know the last behind the scenes thing wasn’t really needed but I had to

Thank you for reading, I hope you liked it!

#mlqc #mlqc victor #mlqc fanfic #mr love li zeyan #mlqc li zeyan #mr love queen's choice #mr love: queen's choice #my writing #tag yourselves im lucien

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