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peaches-writes · 4 years ago

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tumbles and turns

description: a month in the life of you and your college roommate, minho—except you’re from rival universities preparing for an intercollegiate cheerdance competition member: minho / lee know genre: fluff, sports au (off-season universe), college au, roommates au, slice of life, friends to lovers au word count: 7.9k warning: explicit language, mentions of food, injuries, & harassment; a very jealous and protective minho notes: ah yes another sports au about a sport i’m not well-versed in that ended up not making sense + anw whatever danceracha pep squad agenda 💅

week 1 of 4

Minho finally releases the laugh he’s been holding for the past ten minutes, shaking his head in disbelief before hopping off of the edge of the sink where he’s been quietly judging you. “Seriously,” He smirks teasingly, expertly dodging your disapproving frown and your attempt at smacking his arm as he stands between you and the mirror then takes the comb from your hands. “You look fine—kind of wonky, actually, but you’ll live.”

“Ya!” You huff with a light stomp of your foot on the bathroom tiles, reaching up for the blue comb to no avail for he immediately lifts it high above his head. “Give me the comb!”

“Why don’t you dry your hair first before worrying about how you look?” He suggests with another laugh, leaning back on the sink when you start jumping over him for the comb. “It looks weirder when you try combing it down while it’s still wet.”

You groan when he starts taunting you by waving the comb in his hands, eventually giving up to stand back and cross your arms in annoyance. “I’m so—I just feel so iffy about this haircut, that’s all!”

“Well, that’s pep squad for you—but you already know that.” He shrugs, finally putting the comb down behind him in exchange for the orange towel you abandoned a while back to obsessively comb down your bangs. “Anyway, the bangs are the least of your worries. Aren’t you guys dyeing your hair on Friday?”

“Yeah,” You sigh in frustration, lifting a hand up to rub your temple. “Our costumes department is insane, I’m telling you.”

“Try our costumes department.” Minho retorts, throwing the towel over your damp hair after. “Though we’re doing a Michael Jackson-inspired routine, the costumes still need to have our school colors. Imagine all the black and gold and the make-up we’ll have to do for one part—“

You manage to crack a smile at this as you now busy yourself with drying your hair, making Minho chuckle in front of you as well. “Ah, right. Isn’t Felix volunteering for your costumes this year, though? Why don’t you approach him if you’re so bothered?”

“Then you’ll have to see Jeongin for your hair.” He points out.

“Jeongin? Right, nevermind, then. The kid’s scary when he’s in his element.” You huff, your hand on your temple then going up to your bangs. “I’ll just have to live with this for the next 1.5 years at most, I guess.”

“Then that’s settled.” Minho shrugs for the second time, tsking after once he notices your slow pace. Taking a step forward, you then catch a glimpse of Minho picking up your hair dryer from the other side of the sink counter from the corner of your eye before plugging it on the nearest wall socket. “You’re so slow! We’re watching a movie, remember? I don’t want water dripping on the couch.”

Swiftly, you elbow his stomach when he moves to your side. “Well, I’ll have to let you know that hair doesn’t dry that quickly when you’ve bleached it twice.”

“You could’ve been a little quicker about it if you weren’t so focused on your bangs.” He scolds, carding his fingers through your hair before pointing the noisy hairdryer on you and starting with your newly-cut bangs. “What even is the reason behind the red hair, anyway?”

“It’s our school colors, dumbass.” You remind him with a scoff, removing the towel on top of your head and moving it to the opposite side of where Minho is currently working. “Naeun actually managed to find a supplier with the exact same shade of red our school uses, it’s kind of cool.”

“Not like anyone would recognize it on compet.” Minho pouts. “Green would’ve been funnier. Isn’t that your other school color?”

“Excuse you, we have one of the biggest crowds every year? Plus, green would look too wacky. It could be distracting with our theme.”

“As if people from your school go around recognizing that specific shade of red.”

“I’m going to fucking hit you with this towel.” You glower, only making him laugh as he nonchalantly guides you by your shoulders to move closer to the hairdryer’s socket. “Let’s just see who’s going to be laughing when I see you in costume on compet.”

“Please, I’ll rock the outfit so much you’ll forget you even said that.” Your roommate rolls his eyes, turning you around so he can work on the back of your head. “What will you be wearing, by the way?”

Minho steals a glance at you from the mirror, raising his eyebrows slightly, and you answer, “Still the same but in black and a new design.”

“So...top and tights?” He asks and you nod eagerly, your hair almost slipping right through his fingertips.

“You’ll love the designs.” You muse, picking up the blue comb once again to use on the dried parts of your head. ”Naeun designed them really well!”

“A bit of a basic choice for your second to last college competition, don’t you think?” He teases, making you reach up behind you to smack his arm. “Didn’t you guys do the same thing but in navy last year?”

“Call it basic again when I take it home, I dare you.” You retort before chuckling along with him. “Are you done?”

“Almost there.” He answers automatically, slowly inching along to your other side while gently moving you closer to the wall socket and turning you around to face the opposite wall by your shoulders. “Your hair’s so hard to dry.”

“I didn’t even ask for your help.” You point out. “You just barged in here to clown my bangs.”

“Yeah, then I realized that that’s what’s taking you so long that we can’t watch our Sunday movie.” Minho huffs, finally reaching your other side to dry the last strands of your hair. “I’m being a good Samaritan for once, you should at least say thank you.”

You giggle, nodding teasingly. “Right, right. Thank you, Minhooo!” You tease, knowing very well in your almost 5 years of living with him how rare these moments indeed are. “So...done?”

After a long pause, Minho turns the hairdryer off and takes out the plug from the wall socket behind you before taking a step back away from you. “Yup, done.” He affirms, running his index finger through your bangs horizontally once with a giggle. “Your bangs are so funny.”

You frown at him, smacking his arm for the third time tonight before turning around to tidy up everything you’ve used. “I hate you.”

But your roommate only pats your head in response before taking another step back and heading to the bathroom door. “I’ll set up the movie now!” He says as he walks away, glancing back at you with a smile before crossing the other side of the open door. “Hurry up, okay?!”

“Take the hoodie down! Take the hoodie down!” Jisung and Minho mischievously chant by your shoe racks at the entrance once you arrive home from training at the end of the week. The two hold Soonie and Doongie respectively in front of them for emphasis, lifting the cats up and down as if they were holding banners to a sports game. “Take the hoodie down! Take the hoodie down!”

You only roll your eyes at the two as you discard your shoes properly next to them, patting Soonie and Doongie’s heads affectionately then smacking the side of Minho’s head. “Move out of the way, losers.” You command instead with a wave of your hand and a tired giggle, the two laughing along and obligingly stepping aside for you to hang your gym bag up on the metal hooks right behind them. “And Jisung, why are you still here? It’s 9 PM.”

“We’re finishing our game tonight and I wanted to see your new hair!” He answers in his defense, putting Soonie down when Minho does with Doongie. “Now, take the hoodie down! Take the hoodie down!”

Taking out your plastic bag of used clothes and empty tumbler out of your gym bag after, you sigh in defeat and remove your hoodie. “Fine, fine, fine, there.”

Your roommate and his best friend both erupt in whistles and cheers at your bright red hair in response.

“Oh damn!” Jisung exclaims more dramatically and pats your shoulders in approval, ruffling your hair after. By your socked feet, Soonie meows enthusiastically as he tries climbing up your leg. “Look, even Soonie likes it!”

A small step behind the younger boy, you see your roommate with a much cooler reaction, smirking at you and mouthing, “Pretty,” with a wink before vocally adding, “It’s not so bad,” when Jisung then turns to him and asks him what he thinks. “Y/N’s had far worse hairstyles before.”

“I’m going to shove my clothes down your throat.” You threaten him with a chuckle, holding your bundle of used clothes higher as if you were going to throw it towards him. “Anyway, you’ve seen my hair now so let me through, I still have to sort these out and wash up.”

"You have dinner on the table, too, so eat before you go to bed.” Minho adds, pointing to the open doorway down the hall leading to your kitchen.

“Did you cook?”

“Take-out.” Minho answers plainly before gesturing for the three of you to move to the living room. You and Jisung follow him down the hallway. “Pizza and wings.”

Meanwhile, Jisung pouts at you as he links his arms with yours. “Ya, Y/N, you’re not going to watch our stream?”

“Maybe some other time.” You frown, your tiredness slowly coming back now that your friends have naturally stopped joking around. “I’m really sleepy.”

“Practice was that harsh?” Jisung asks next, stopping you right in the middle of the living room before you could proceed further to the left of the hallway to your room. Minho, on the other hand, walks ahead of you and proceeds to plop down on the sofa to set up their game once again. “Jeongin told me you’re changing the choreography a bit.”

“Seungkwan injured his foot really bad so we’re adjusting for alternatives in case he doesn’t recover in time.” You nod sadly, scratching your head in frustration. “And he’s my one of my bases for most stunts, including the exhibition, so I’m making the most adjustments.”

“Oh,” Jisung muses in realization, pausing a bit before another smile graces his features as he then lifts your hoodie back up to your head. “we should play quietly, then, right Minho?”

Minho only nods at this without even sparing a glance back at you.

“Yup, we’ll try to be quiet!” Jisung promises again, his grin growing bigger. “Sleep well, then, Y/N!”

“Hm, thanks, goodnight to you, I guess.” You greet him back, looking over his shoulder to see Minho glancing back up at you. “Goodnight Minho.”

Your roommate sweetly waves goodnight to you before turning mischievous by snickering and pointing at your red hair again. You roll your eyes and quietly threaten him with your clothes again in response before bidding him and Jisung another goodnight, proceeding to your room after.

Surprisingly, the two rowdy boys kept to their word after you’ve finished dinner and mostly whispered yelled through the walls of the living room for the rest of the night, mostly Minho scolding Jisung for cursing at their game and reminding him to quiet down for you.

week 2 of 4

You come home from Thursday practice two hours later than usual and completely drained, trudging down the entrance hallway of your shared apartment to the rustling of your used clothes and the obnoxious empty noises of your tumbler that quickly alerts Minho and his three cats of your presence. Excitedly greeting you from the kitchen area, Minho looks up at you from feeding Soonie, Doongie, and Dori under your dining table and waves at you, his smile immediately faltering into a confused one when he sees your frown. “Hey. Are you okay? Why are you late?” He points out with a nervous chuckle. “You could’ve just called me to pick you up.”

You don’t answer, opting instead to tiredly settle on the seat nearest to his side and resting your arms and head down on the table, missing the dinner set Minho prepared for you by a hair as you do so. “I missed the first bus home because I was distracted from being so pissed off at this newbie being a creep during practice.” You scoff as nonchalantly as you can. “It’s okay now, tho—”

“What?!” Before you could even finish your sentence, however, Minho surprisingly leaves his cats’ side, moving over to sit next to you to the side where your head is limply tilted. “Who’s this guy? What did they do?”

You shift uncomfortably in your seat at the sudden rise in Minho’s tone and then see him instinctively scooting away in response, an attempt to give you space in case you’re uncomfortable. “Do you remember Park Joon? The guy I’ve told you before who’s been hitting on me and some of my teammates since he got in the team?” You start off after and you see your roommate following you along again, this time propping an elbow up on the table and nodding along. You also see him open his mouth to speak before closing it again, gesturing for you to continue. “Coach picked him to be Seungkwan’s replacement for the stunts and we practiced our choreography for exhibition today after team practice.

“It was fine, at first, he adjusted quickly to filling in for Seungkwan and all—until in one of our final stunts, he started groping me inappropriately that my other teammates had to stop immediately once they noticed and told our coach about it.”

"What?! What the fuck?!” Minho reacts with furrowed eyebrows and a scowl on his face. Sitting up properly now, he then worriedly asks, “W-What did—what did Coach Im do?”

You sigh, lifting up your head up after as you tiredly prop your own elbow up to mirror him. “Coach was furious that she immediately had him kicked out of practice without even hearing his side.“ You answer shakily, carding your fingers through your hair. “She also said that she’ll report him to admin after so we won’t be hearing about the guy until graduation...”

In front of you, Minho releases a breath you didn’t even notice he’s been holding as you speak, cautiously moving his chair towards you again and patting your back comfortingly. “That’s...fuck, I’m sorry you had to go through that...I’m glad Coach Im kicked him out after. Fuck...” He mirrors your frown, albeit sadder than your frustrated one. “Are you—I mean, do you want me to get you something? Do you need anything? I—”

“I’m fine, Minho, just annoyed now that we have to adjust everything again.” You huff, your voice shaking just slightly that Minho almost misses it.

“The choreography’s the least of your worries now, that fucking creep just harassed you.” Minho points out softly and cautiously, meeting your eyes before hesitantly stroking your hair. “I swear, if I was there, I would’ve—”

You shake your head immediately, cutting him off with what you could muster up as an assuring smile. “Seriously...it’s fine. I’m fine—still a bit shaken but I’m kind of comforted that he got kicked out for it and that Jeongin and the others stood up for me.” You add with more conviction now because of Minho’s words. “Please don’t do anything stupid about this for me. I’m so over it right now, trust me.”

“Really? You promise?” He asks you to which you nod back in response. “Well, if you say so but—do you need anything else right now or later? I can commute with you again if you want me to or something...”

You shake your head at his last offer. “No, no, that’s really too much of a hassle for you. It’s fine. To be honest, I just want to sleep and not think about it anymore right now.” You pout after, scooting your chair closer to the meal you’ve accidentally forgotten throughout this whole conversation. “Thank you for listening and worrying, though, Minho. I really appreciate it.”

Your roommate opens his mouth again to retort but is suddenly interrupted by Dori brushing up against your legs and purring at you. “What’s that Dori?” Your roommate asks the cat in his usual pouting tone instead, lifting the cat up and placing it on his lap. Dori, however, only fixes his gaze on you and purrs again. “Hm? You want to go to Y/N and make them feel better? Okay, okay.”

He then carefully sets the cat on your lap, standing up after to affectionately stroke your hair again. “If that’s all then eat first before you wash up and go to bed.” He then returns to his original thought before going back to the other two cats. “And do tell me if you need anything, okay?”

“I will.” You muster up another smile to which Minho returns with a smile of his own. “Thanks again, Minho.”

He only hums, briefly leaning forward as if to encase you in a hug before hesitating last minute and turning his attention back to his cats. “Eat your food.”

The next day, Minho surprises you by waking up earlier and following you all the way to the bus stop with his own gym bag and backpack.

“It’s Friday.” You point out as your bus approaches.

He nods nonchalantly, turning to you with a smile. “Yeah, I can tell. The cafe across the street’s selling mint frappe until 10 AM.”

“No, I mean,” You shake your head. “isn’t your first class at 2 PM today?”

“Yeah?” He answers in a tone that pretends to be oblivious of where you’re taking this conversation.

“Then why are you all dressed up with your things?” At this the bus approaches, opening right in front of you and Minho. Before you could even step in the public vehicle, Minho beats you to it and takes your hand in his, pulling you along.

“I’m meeting up with Jisung to study.” He answers belatedly to you as he swipes his bus card, stepping aside after for you to follow.

“Bullshit.” You mumble under your breath, mirroring his actions anyway and following him to the seats right behind the driver as the bus roars back to life. “You’re in different programs, Minho.”

“You could just say ‘thank you’ and get it over with“ He teases, nudging your shoulder with his before smoothly slinging an arm over you. “And I really am meeting up with Jisung today, just after his 10 AM. He’s taking a science elective this semester and he needs help with it.”

You tilt your head towards him, seeing his anticipating expression. With an amused chuckle, you give him a side hug instead, burying your face in the material of his black hoodie and catching him off-guard. “Thank you.”

He hugs you back with a laugh.

“I know what will make you feel better!” Your roommate announces as he barges in your room unannounced the following Saturday afternoon, plopping down at the foot of your bed as you work on your term papers on the other side. “Well, at least, Chan does since he was technically the one who suggested it.”

“I feel fine, though? What are you talking about?” You raise an eyebrow at him, stealing glances over to him as you continue working.

Minho comically rolls closer to you, propping an elbow up on the mattress to stop and showing you his phone displaying his chat history with Chan. “Are you sure? Like well enough that you won’t even be bothered that Chan got us tickets to see the Hyunjin’s final game next Sunday?” He wiggles his eyebrows teasingly, snickering when your eyes widen.

Immediately, your fingers stop typing away on your keyboard and you look up at him in purse shock. “What?!” You exclaim in disbelief, leaning closer to his phone screen and squinting your eyes at the chain of messages exchanged between your two friends. “Seriously? Didn’t this game get sold out weeks ago?”

“Yeah but, you know, Chan has his socializing ways.” Your roommate shrugs, taking his phone back to his side to clasp his hands together. “So? What do we think?”

“Um, yeah, of course, let’s go!” You answer matter-of-factly, taking his phone and typing in your reply for emphasis. “I mean, you are taking me, right? This isn’t a joke?”

“Only if I can take the other ticket.” He winks, lifting his upper body higher from the mattress to rest his chin on top of your laptop screen. “So, yes?”

You nod enthusiastically with a giggle, making Minho jump up into a sit in joy.

“Clear your schedule for next Sunday, Y/N! We’re watching the finals!”

week 3 of 4

Coach Im distributes your finished costumes on your first practice of the week after her final reminders and announcements and you make sure to contain your excitement as best as you can on your commute home until after you’ve finished dinner in order to open it with an equally excited Minho.

Eagerly, your roommate now peers over your shoulder on the sofa after having hurriedly washed the dishes, holding Dori up to his chest as he does so.

“See? It’s so pretty!” You exclaim once you’ve taken everything out of the plastic wrapping, holding up your black fitted cropped top, lined with a complex geometric pattern in colors inspired by the pride flag, for your roommate and all of his three cats to see. “It came out really well!”

Minho nods in approval at the black spandex while Dori unconsciously mirrors him when you turn to the two. “The printing didn’t fuck up Naeun’s design on the first print for once.” He muses, making you chuckle. “It looks cool.”

“They took it to a different printing shop this time.” You clarify, laying down the top right next to a sleeping Doongie on the nearby coffee table before taking out the bottoms. “This material’s really nice, too. I tried it on with everyone a while back and the stretch is really nice.”

“I take that as I’ll see this costume being used in the gym after, then?” Minho jokes, earning him a jab on the elbow when he puts Dori down after. “What? So, pajamas?”

“You didn’t have to call me out like that!” You protest, leaning back on the couch and placing a passing Soonie on your lap. “I really like this costume.”

“Because you say that with all of your costumes!” Minho retorts, hovering Dori over your costume when the cat starts purring and tilting its head towards it.

“I happen to love everything my friends design.” You correct, chuckling at Dori who’s now escaped Minho’s grasp to sniff and snuggle into your clothes. “Now, when is that black and red vest coming in again?”

“It came today too but I won’t show it to you.” Your roommate sticks his tongue out at you, earning him a string of protests from you. “You’ll just have to see on compet day!”

“What? No! Unfair!” You pout.

“You’ll just have to see next week!” He insists anyway, laughing at your furrowed eyebrows and scowl. “I don’t want you getting too distracted with me when you should be focusing on memorizing your choreography, you scatterbrain.”

“Ya! Ugh, you’re so full of yourself!”

You find his vest in the laundry the following day, anyways, when you needed to retrieve one of your shirts from your laundry area. You make sure to tease him about it with a photo of you holding up his vest after and sending it to him through private chat.

“Ah, so mean!” He replies.

“Let’s go Hwang Hyunjin, kick some ass!” You yell as loud as you can in your seat amidst all the cheers for your friend echoing around the arena. Next to you, Minho laughs through his drink at your enthusiasm, your initial awkwardness at sitting on his university’s side of the audience for this volleyball game clearly gone now as you wildly wave your green balloon. “Wooh, go Hyunjin!”

“God, what would our friends from your uni say when they see you cheering for our team?” He chuckles once you’ve calmed down, adjusting your white hat as you settle back comfortably in your seat once again.

You roll your eyes at him, picking your Cola up from your respective cup holder and taking a sip. “Shut up, it’s not like I’m alone here.” You retort after, pointing at Changbin who’s with Jisung at the other end of the row. “Even Yeji’s somewhere in the crowd, too, supporting her cousin.”

“Still, it’s not everyday you’re on this side.” He argues back, scrunching up his face again when you get momentarily distracted by Hyunjin scoring another point for his team. “Ah, you’re so hyped today! How come you never cheer like this for me?”

“Because we’re in the same sport, Minho.” You laugh this time, catching his fake pout from the corner of your eye. “Besides, I cheer for you, too, just in a different way—woah, did you see that?! Woah, as expected of Choi Bomin!”

Minho couldn’t say anything else to you after as you easily become occupied by the heated game again, cheering mostly for Hyunjin and occasionally Sanha who’s on the opposing team. He patiently waits for you to turn your attention back to him anyway, which only takes 3 points on his university and 4 points on Sanha’s. “Why? So, I can’t ask you to wear my school’s shirt and things like that if ever?” He asks cheekily once he’s gotten your attention again.

You scoff against the heat rising up your neck. “W-What? Why? Are you giving them to me as pajamas?”

He shakes his head, chuckling. “No, I mean, while on compet.” He clarifies before gesturing over to his shirt you borrowed from him today with another pout. “It’s just that you borrowed my shirt to cheer on Hyunjin today. Can’t you do that next week for me too?”

You glance back at him incredulously, making him chuckle nervously. “If I want Jeongin to chop my head off and Seungmin to call me a traitor until awarding, then I might.” You scoff playfully, deepening his pout and puppy eyes. “Don’t pull that look on me! Where is this even coming from all of a sudden?”

“I just thought about it.” He shrugs, warming your face even more. “Can’t you really do it? I’ll even wear your shirt if I have to.”

“Ah, just say you think I look cute in your shirt and go.” You roll your eyes jokingly, your seemingly nonchalant disposition slowly crumbling down in front of him anyway. “Minho, your secret crush on me is kind of showing, you might have to watch out for yourself on that, ha.”

“So? What about it?” He mumbles under his breath, catching you off-guard without him meaning to.

“What?” Your eyes widen curiously.

“What?” He repeats, mirroring your expression in feigned innocence before his eyes slowly flit back to the game. “Oh hey, we scored again!”

“Lee Minho!”

“What?!” He chuckles, avoiding your gaze now as you suddenly switch roles with him cheering loudly for his university. “Go Hwang Hyunjin!”

One of your university shirts doesn’t come back to you from the laundry after that.

week 4 of 4

On the Saturday night before the competition, you skip your traditional sleepaway camp and senior send-off with your team to have a sleepover in your apartment living room with your roommate, setting up sleeping bags on the floor next to Soonie, Doongie, and Dori’s beds and queueing up old competition videos on your television. Minho, on the other hand, re-heats all of the remaining leftovers in your refrigerator and buys extra side dishes and drinks from the convenience store on the first floor of your building for dinner.

“What should we watch first?” You ask once you’ve finished eating and washing the dishes, the TV’s remote on your right hand while the other massages Dori’s head as the grey cat circles your feet. “Hm, Dori? What video do you want to dance to first?”

Minho then re-emerges from the kitchen, stretching his limbs as he approaches you before snatching the remote and answering for Dori, “I have just the video in mind!”

“Ya!” You glare at him, reaching up to retrieve the remote again but, as he always does, Minho immediately raises the device above his head as he scrolls down the folder of videos on the TV. “If you’re thinking about that vid, I’m going to—“

But Minho only laughs at you, quickly scrolling down the videos anyway against your attempts of stopping him until he finds your very first cheer dance routine at the bottom of the folder. “Here, found it!” He chuckles in victory after a struggle, throwing the remote on the side and pulling you close to the first part of the paired dance that serves as the choreography’s intro. “Let’s dance!”

“Nooo!” You protest, turning your eyes away from the screen as you see yourself in your Freshman year, dancing to a Jungle-themed routine, while Minho only cackles in your misery, following the steps precisely as he spins and twirls you on time before letting go.

“No, you have to do it with me!” He insists as the choreography now forces him to part with you, his gaze alternating between you and the screen. “Come on, Y/N!”

You groan under his anticipating gaze, following him and the video along after a pause in utter defeat.

“Why are you so embarrassed about this routine? You looked cute here!” He points out as you now do the group jumps, easily finding you in the video since you’re often at the center. “Besides the teased hair and the amount of black eyeshadow on your make-up, of cour—“

“I tripped the most on this routine!” You remind him just as you do trip on the way to being lifted in the video. “See?”

“You were a 1st year then, that’s totally understandable.” He dismisses anyway with a wave of his hand, the two of you stopping to watch the first sequence of lifts. “You remember when I almost fucked up my solo on the same compet because I couldn’t remember the steps towards the end?”

“Yeah but you improvised—“

“And Coach Kim made sure to have me sit out the Nationals after.” Minho rolls his eyes. The two of you then go back to dancing, laughing along to the steps you find silly and scaring your three cats by pretending to lift your hands up as if preparing to do tumbles. “Point is, we’re much better cheer dancers now than before! Look, this routine’s even easier to follow now than when you were practicing this with me 4 years ago.”

“If you put it that way, then, I guess...” You muse out loud until another thought crosses your mind. “We should play that video of yours next, then! That was the exhibition, right?”

“Fine, fine.” He sighs teasingly. “but first let’s finish this! Ah, 6 minutes is so long when it’s so focused so much on dancing!”

You then spend the rest of the night dancing to your shared old competition videos until you eventually felt sleepy (and the old couple living right under your unit started banging on the floor, their ceiling, with an umbrella).

“Kids, whatever canoodling it is you’re doing, you need to stop, it’s 2 AM!” Mr. Lee yells from his window right below yours as you and Minho fall on your sleeping bags tiredly, making the two of you laugh.

“Who even uses the word ‘canoodling’ these days?” You scoff in between uncontrollable fits of giggles, rolling over to your stomach and lazily crawling over to your pillow. “And they think we’re doing something weird again! Mr. and Mrs. Lee are sweet and all but sometimes, their minds...”

Next to you, Minho clutches his stomach as he laughs. “Why?” He smirks playfully, sitting up and scooting over to his own sleeping bag. “They’re just being old people. Does it bother you that much? Do you actually want to do something weird with me?”

You scrunch your nose in disgust up at him hovering over you, pushing him away when he tries tickling your sides. “Ew, Minho! No, get away from me!”

A few hours later, you ended up having to deal with Minho sprawled all over your sleeping area and refusing to wake up at exactly 9 AM to prepare and head out of the apartment.

“Minho.” You call his name firmly, poking his arm draped over your waist. “Come on, you big baby, or the cats are gonna eat you for breakfast.”

“Nooo, 5 more minutes.” He whines tiredly, unconsciously snuggling up to your neck when Doongie and Soonie pass by his face, slapping their tails across his cheeks. “I’m so tired from last night.”

“I told you not to put on that video of yours from last season.” You scold, finally managing to lift his hand and kick his leg away from you. “Whatever, I’m feeding the cats. You get up and cook breakfast, okay?”

“In a bit.” He waves you off, rolling over to his stomach and grabbing the nearest cat, in his case Doongie.

Minho was right in that he really works his team’s outfit even when he’s not fully fond of it, you realize six hours later when you meet again at the competition’s venue and see him for the first time in his full gold top, black slacks, and shoes. He winks at you from across the room as you untie the knots of your purple, red, and yellow pom poms, gesturing to his outfit after and mouthing, “Like it?”

You wordlessly flash him a thumbs up in approval before showing him his shirt you’re wearing over your costume as he made you promise over breakfast, making him giggle over the hand fan he holds up to his face before focusing back on his conversation with Chan who’s filming an interview with him and the other captains of the participating teams as a courtside reporter.

Seungmin, preparing for his own pre-competition interview on the side, then takes the latter as his cue to sit next to you on the benches. “Minho scares me.”

“Minho always scares you.” You chuckle, elbowing his side and sparing him a quick glance before going back to your work. “What did you do this time, Minnie? Hit him with your cue cards?”

But your team’s persistent courtside reporter only shakes his head from the corner of your eye, glancing up ahead of you once again before repeating, “No, seriously, he was glaring at Eunwoo a while ago when you were talking to him and now he’s all smiley and winking at you now that you’re alone. It kind of scares me and I’m not the one being looked at.”

You whip your head over to the same direction, easily spotting Minho again whose eyes immediately soften up at your gaze gaze before smirking and winking again at you. Turning back to Seungmin after, you shrug and say, “He looks fine to me. He‘s always greasy in public by default.”

The younger boy only sighs in defeat, rubbing his temples as he replies, “I don’t know what’s going on in your home life but I’m saying this as a concerned friend and bystander: get a room.”

“What?!”

“Do everyone a favor, it’s getting annoying.” He points out, quickly glancing behind you once again before shuddering at Minho’s glare that’s now directed to the other boy he just mentioned. “And we all seriously feel bad for Eunwoo; guy was just asking you for eyeliner.”

“We’re not dating, Minnie, oh my God!” You smack his arm in disbelief, taking a quick scan around the room after to make sure that no one heard your blabbermouth of a friend. Lowering your voice, you then add, “But did he really? Glare at Eunwoo, I mean?”

“Plotted five different murder scenarios and everything.” Seungmin affirms. “Felix and Chan were texting me from across the room while it was all happening and they both said they could see smoke come out of Minho’s ears. Even Yeji was scared and she was just passing by to see Chaeryeong.”

“You guys are delusional.”

“We are tired of this dumb sexual tension.” He defends, gesturing to himself then to Chan and Hyunjin from afar then to Minho and, finally, to your shirt with Minho’s university logo on the print. “Anyway, I also heard from some of the other reporters that he made Jisung and Hyunjin hold something for him today when their team came in. What if it’s for you?”

You raise an eyebrow, shaking your head. “No? He didn’t bring anything weird to the bus stop this morning and I’m pretty sure he went straight to his uni after dropping me off at my stop.” You point out before exhaling another sigh and patting the younger boy’s shoulder. “You know what I think? I think looking after your significant other is taking a toll on you. Are you sure you don’t need anything? A break from courtside reporting maybe?”

Seungmin groans. “Ah, whatever. You two figure this out before someone actually gets an idea to shove you two into an actual room—especially Jisung and Hyunjin!” He concludes before noticing the sudden commotion to your left, eyes widening at realizing that the reporters are being called for their opening spiels now. “Oops, I gotta go, crowd check!”

“You better, you’re starting to talk weird!” You smack his elbow playfully, standing up when he does and bidding him goodbye. “Hype up our crowd and break a leg out there!”

“And you do well on the floor later!” He smiles back, waving goodbye at you before joining Chan and the other reporters to the exit leading to the main floor. “Don’t forget to drink water!”

“Will do, capt.!” And with that, Seungmin runs off to open the program, the empty space next to you quickly getting occupied by Minho after who points at your shirt cheekily.

“You look cute in my shirt.” He comments, adjusting the hat he wears similar to Michael Jackson’s. Fortunately, the lighting backstage is not as bright as the floor’s that his top only glimmers slightly in front of you as he moves.

“You just saw me wear this last Sunday.” You deadpan against another wave of heat rising up to your cheeks, your hands fiddling unconsciously with the hem of your shirt. “It was getting cold just wearing my costume.”

“What did Jeongin and Seungmin say?” He asks, gesturing his head over to the exit where Seungmin just passed through a while back.

“Jeongin just laughed and Seungmin said—ah, nevermind.” You shake your head towards the end, piquing Minho’s interest even further anyway.

“What? What?”

“Nothing! It was nothing.” You bluff with another shake of your head, pushing Minho away with your pom poms when he teases you by leaning his face closer to yours. “Anyway, when will you perform?”

“We’re coming out third for the team and I think our exhibition members are performing fourth. You?”

“First, actually—for the team, I mean.” You frown. “Then we’re last for exhibition.”

“We can watch each other then! I’ll cheer for you from the front seats, the boys have front row seats out there near your uni’s bleachers.”

“Don’t you need to stay back here and, I don’t know, do captain stuff?” You ask next.

“And miss out on your performance? No way! The kids can take care of themselves for 6 minutes.” He shrugs with a dismissive hand. “Why? Don’t you want me to cheer you on? I brought your shirt with me.”

“So you took my shirt!”

“You couldn’t possibly think the neighbors would.” He rolls his eyes playfully, slinging an arm over your shoulder and directing the two of you to the exit along with the others for the opening rites. “So will you come out and watch me too?”

“It’s not like I have another choice. I’m already wearing your shirt to a compet.” You reiterate, making him smile. “As long as you don’t take unflattering photos of me again.”

“Nope, I’ve learned my lesson already.” He grins mischievously, making you smack his arm. “I already have Hyunjin on that job—maybe Changbin too, he brought a tripod and everything to film today.”

“I’m kicking you out of the house when we get home.”

“Ooh, I’m so scared!”

“Shut up.”

Minho cheers you on during your performance, anyway, holding red and green balloons and your shirt, as if a banner, next to Changbin, Jisung, and Hyunjin who all hold different colors of balloons and even more diverse slogans flashing on their phones as well. “Go Y/N!” He yells whenever you have to perform a stunt or dance at the center, jumping up and down his seat and receiving confused looks from the people in their bleachers who aren’t familiar with the two of you.

“Minho’s cheering for you again.” Jeongin snickers quickly as he catches you from a lift, making you discreetly pinch his arm under you.

“Don’t even—“ You sigh, hopping off of your teammates and proceeding to the next formation.

Still, Jeongin bothers you anyway as you perform a series of jumps before kneeling down on the mats. “I just wanted to say it’s cute but pretend that didn’t come from me.” He mumbles against the loud music next to you. “Will you come out and cheer him on too?”

“You already know I will.” You sigh, clasping your hands together once it’s time to stand up again. “Will you come too?”

“I’m sitting with Chan and Seungmin!” He says before parting ways with you. “Sit with us!”

And you do, wearing Minho’s shirt again over your costume once it’s his team’s turn to perform while you hold a black and gold balloon that Chan teaches you quickly how to wave around in the way their university does in every performance. “Go Minho!” You all cheer at the same time from the courtside reporters’ area, making the said pep squad captain turn to your direction as he waits for his cue from behind a prop coffin akin to Michael Jackson’s Thriller.

Minho waves at you shyly in response, prompting the other boys to tease you for the duration of the his solo.

“Get a room!”

“Seungmin!”

The cheer dance program lasts for almost 2 hours with the team routine, the exhibition from select members where you participated (and received too much yells from your friends on different sides of the arena), and the awarding where you end up placing 1st runner-up on the team and 1st place on the exhibition while Minho snatches the Champion title for his team among all of the awards they were giving out.

By 8 PM when the program officially ends, your body is already sore from performing twice but you come out to the mats once again, anyway, to take photos with your friends.

“Okay, everyone, say cheese!” Naeun exclaims, pressing the timer on her camera before joining your group, easily climbing up your friend group’s improvised pyramid.

“Cheese!” The camera snaps photos of you and all of your friends from different universities involved in the cheer dance in quick succession, Minho teasing you from below halfway and pretending to drop your foot in his hands.

“There! I think we got it.” Seungmin points out once the camera’s snapping noise stops, standing up from kneeling in front with Chan, Yeeun, and Chaeryeong to check. “Alright, it’s good! Season 103 is done! Finally!”

Your group erupts in cheers as you and the other fliers are carefully caught back and helped back down on the mats while the courtside reporters do a group hug and snap more photos, this time on Yeeun’s phone where they started doing poses resembling their university mascots. You fall smoothly on Minho and Jeongin’s arms, hopping off easily and thanking Jeongin.

“What about me? Hm?” Minho pouts once Jeongin’s dragged away by Felix and Chenle to take more photos, carding his fingers through your bright red hair. “You could at least say thank you.”

You look up at him and snicker, elbowing his side. “Thank you, Minhooo. Happy?”

“Better.” He smirks before twisting his upper body halfway to turn behind you. When you follow his action with your gaze, your then see Changbin and Hyunjin jogging over to you with your trophies and a large bouquet of sunflowers and roses. “I got you something by the way—well, Changbin and Hyunjin bought then I paid them or else they’ll get tissues in their mouths again.”

“Wha—?” You eye the flowers as they approach in pure shock, your eyes widening even more when Changbin and Hyunjin only send you knowing smiles and winks before running away, cheering Minho on as they escape to your other friends. “W-What? W-Why this all of a sudden?”

Minho chuckles at your reaction, passing you your trophy from the exhibition category while he holds his from the team category with the bouquet in one hand. “I just thought that...it’s the end of the season—our last season so what if I—what if I finally asked you out properly?” He explains, growing more sheepish as he explains further while he then transfers the bouquet in his free hand and thrusts the fragile gift towards you. “Felix and Jeongin suggested that I make it more grander with an after-compet performance or something but I know that’s not your type so I got you flowers instead since I know you’ll win something either way.”

“O-Oh.” You muse in your speechlessness, catching a glance of your mutual friends now crowding together from a distance and holding up their phones to record Minho’s confession. Around you, even a few passersby have also momentarily stopped to look, equally as surprised knowing your infamous relationship with your somewhat rival in these competitions. “Y-You’re—you’re asking me out.”

“That’s the plan.” He shrugs with another laugh, grinning even wider when you slowly take the flowers in your own hands to smell the flowers. “If not, then we can totally just pretend I bought you the flowers as congratulations for winning the exhibition catego—hey, woah!”

You shake your head with a smile, having already gathered your thoughts, and pull him into a hug with your free hand, effectively cutting him off and making everyone around you cheer. “Of course, I’d go out with you, dumbass.” You answer his unspoken question, making him smile over your shoulder and hug you back tightly. “Anyway, I’m too lazy to kick you out of the apartment.”

“Ya!”

“I’m just kidding!” You then pull away slightly after, tiptoeing up to give him a kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for the flowers—and also maybe for assuming that I’m going to win something.”

“You always win something, anyway—even if it’s not always the team category because you can never beat me to that in this competition.” He teases, earning him another smack on the arm. “You did win my heart.”

“Ugh, Minho, gross!” You scrunch up your nose, feigning disgust and making him laugh as he dips down to kiss you. “Please never say that in front of my face ever again, we still have Nationals at the end of the semester!”

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rogershoe · 4 years ago

Text

Lights, Camera, Action

Part five

(Part four)

Masterlist

Summary: You’re a production assistant on the set of Cursed. The night before your first day at work, you opened your laptop to shockingly realise you’d be working with Daniel Sharman (and a plethora of other amazing actors), someone you’d been watching on screen since you were a teenager. You kept your expectations low, the PAs rarely got to interact with the talent…what was your chance?

Word count: 2.6k

Tag list: @sxperncturalimpala67 @mrsaaronkeener @tinygardensoul @disasterday�� @5am-cigarette @lancelotapricot @demoiselle-en-detresse00 @slytherlight @18somethingpsyche @ceruleanmusings@glxctt@cavillxhenry@lovelyapplessss@hereagainsstuff@linkpk88@aliceperdida@weeping-redemption@magicalsaladnacho@lancelotapricot@ineedyourskulls@fandomarstrash@cheythefangirl @pure-ghost @estrielle @tessxblxckthorn @isaac-lahey-is-bae @bubblyanis @proudhufflepuff77

Warnings: age gap between reader and Daniel, swearing, blood/fear of blood, reader gets injured (cut on her finger), slow burn

Notes: This chapter is a lot shorter than the last one but also definitely more exciting!! I hope you guys like it and plzz lmk in the comments whether this was alright or not! I know that the plot of this part is a bit exaggerated but bare with me hahaha

You looked at Daniel and found that he had closed his eyes and Jasmine was dabbing a bit of powder over his T zone…probably to absorb the excess oil that she had proudly told you he didn’t have.

“Do you do a lot of makeup yourself?” Jasmine asked you

“Not usually but sometimes I guess” you said

“So you know all the different brushes?”

You thought back to the hours of mindless makeup videos you would spend hours watching at 3:00 am when you couldn’t sleep.

“Yep, I do actually” you said confidently. Thank god you weren’t completely clueless in this new endeavour.

“Oh awesome! That’ll make all of this so much easier Y/N”

You laughed, happy that you were doing something right. You honestly just could’ve spent this whole time looking at Daniel but you obviously didn’t want to seem like a creep. You wondered if he recognised you from the battery station or his trailer. Not likely…you doubted that your face was all that memorable.

“Can you pass me the spoolie?” she said, closing the powder and putting it on the counter. “It’s in the first drawer”

You quickly opened the drawer, and bent down to look through it. You were uncomfortably self conscious of how close you were to Daniel, your hips were almost brushing against his chair.

Thankfully you spotted the spoolie and grabbed it, standing up straight and using your free hand to close the drawer. As you turned to give it to Jasmine, you took the opportunity to glance at Daniel. What you didn’t anticipate was to find his piercing eyes looking right back at you. His lips turned up and he smiled slightly at you. A small smile spread across your face and you felt your cheeks heat up.

You hoped he didn’t notice you blushing and quickly turned away as Jasmine took the tool from your hand. You looked at her and saw her narrowing her eyes suspiciously at you. Trying to act natural, you looked around to see Cassandra walking back to you from talking to an extra across the trailer. Although she was one of the head make-up artists, she didn’t seem that old at all and looked to be in her early thirties.

“How’s it going Y/N? Not too overwhelmed I hope?” she said, a snide smirk on her face.

You swallowed slightly and attempted to sport a carefree smile on yours, “No, not yet”

She ignored your answer and instead went to look at Daniel.

“Oh your beard needs a quick trim” she said laughing

Daniel smiled, “Do you have to? I’m trying to grow it out” he said laughing and running a hand across his jaw. You could tell by his expression that he was joking.

Cassandra giggled like a little school girl making you raise your eyebrows and your stomach lurch. You could tell she was enjoying working with Daniel just as much as you

“Y/N, pass me the facial scissor”

You looked towards the counter where she was pointing and saw a tin full of multiple small scissors, some open some closed. As you wrapped your fingers around one of the tools, you felt a sharp pain on your index finger and quickly pulled your hand away, the scissor clattering onto the floor. As you had snatched your hand from the tin, the scissor had probably dragged across your finger, making your injury deeper and longer. You looked at your finger, beads of blood falling from the deep cut and cursed under your breath. Why did you have to be so fucking clumsy?

You looked at the floor and saw the scissor at Daniel’s feet, where he was already picking it up.

“ Oh god…I’m so sorry” you said and grabbed a tissue to try to dab the blood away. You looked at Daniel through the mirror and saw him looking at you.

“Are you okay?” he said, and for a second after hearing his voice, you forgot all about your bleeding finger.

Before you could respond, Cassandra interrupted you, “I’m sure she’s fine…right Y/N?”

You nodded clutching your finger and trying not to wince, the pain was slowly increasing.

“Go and get cleaned up Y/N” she said, her face showing sincerity…whether it was real or not you couldn’t tell.

“Thank you” you were about to leave when you heard Jasmine’s voice,

“Can I go with her Cassandra?”

“Of course not…who else is supposed to help me if you’re gone too?”

You ignored her response and walked out of the trailer thankful that at least there was one person in there who liked you.

When you got outside you weren’t surprised to find your vision going slightly hazy. You could watch hours of gory, bloody fights and killing on your TV but the second you saw anyone, (especially yourself) bleeding in real life, your warped brain suddenly decided it was time for you to start fainting.

You walked to the side of the tall trailer and leaned against the vehicle, taking deep breaths. The metal was still wet from the rain this morning and so was the ground. Your head started throbbing and you hoped with everything that no one would walk out of the trailer and see you. The only people who had seen you before like this were your parents and Talia…it was rare for you to bleed anyways.

For some reason your vision and head weren’t getting any better. It was probably the lack of sleep or food and water you had had since you had stupidly decided to skip breakfast this morning. You knew you had to sit down so you walked to the edge of the trailer farther from the door and sat on the tarmac. It was wet and you felt the water soak through your jeans. You put your elbows on your bent knees and your throbbing head in your hands. It was only your second week and you were already lightheaded. If only you had been more careful while grabbing the stupid scissor.

You tried not to look at your finger that was now wrapped in the thin tissue you had hurriedly grabbed. That was probably a bad idea since the rough material would most likely start to stick to the blood. You took a deep breath and glanced at your finger to see the tissue was soaked through..how deadly was that scissor?

You suddenly heart footsteps coming towards you and quickly looked up, scared to see who it was. You breath caught in your throat and you could’ve sworn your heart stopped beating when you saw Daniel’s face come into view. Oh god….out of all the people it had to be him?

“Fuck, are you okay?”, you saw his lips move as he came over to you and knelt down.

“Oh yeah, I’m fine” you said and looked at him. Even in your awful state you noticed the way one strand of his hair fell across his face and how soft his dark blue hoodie looked.

“Are you sure?”

“Oh yeah…definitely” you lied. To prove yourself right, you swallowed and put your uninjured hand on the ground and stood up. Of course you did it too fast and suddenly your vision went blurry again. You reached out a hand to lean it against the trailer but instead of feeling the cold metal of the vehicle, you felt warm skin. You looked up quickly to find that Daniel had taken your hand in his. Now that you were standing you were even more intimidated by how his tall figure towered above you. For a second that felt like minutes, you stared at both your hands….was he seriously holding yours right now? Maybe it was a sick illusion your brain had conjured up.

“Oh no you aren’t” he said laughing slightly. He looked at the door of the trailer before gripping your hand tighter with his long fingers, probably afraid that you’d collapse again. Nevermind, it definitely wasn’t an illusion. Your heart beat faster because of the close proximity you two were in.

“I think you should come with me” he said looking worried.

“What? No, I can’t” you said shaking your head, the concrete dancing underneath your eyes.

You looked up at him and saw the confused look on his face, your head still throbbing, “Cassandra would kill me”

You saw the glint in his eyes as he grinned slightly, “Cassandra? I’ll deal with her…we need to get some fluid into your body or you could faint”

You knew he was right, you were just scared that if you were alone with him you might just end up fainting anyways.

“It’s okay…honestly, I can just go get some water myself” you said not wanting to trouble him, he probably had to get back to the trailer anyways.

“I have water in my trailer, I was on my way there to get my phone anyways”

You smiled through your pain and gave in, “Okay…thank you”

He smiled and started walking towards his trailer. You found yourself gripping his hand tightly, not because you wanted to but because you had to. Your knees felt like they would give away if you didn’t. The fact that it was Daniel Sharman’s hand was just a huge plus.

Once you finally got to his trailer he stopped by the stairs and gestured for you to go in. You smiled gratefully and stumbled up the stairs into the familiar trailer. Your head was getting better now as Daniel had almost completely distracted you from your cut.

He came inside behind you but didn’t close the door.

“You wanna wash that up?” he said looking at the cut and grimacing slightly. He gestured to the door that you had suspected would lead to the bathroom.

You blushed and looked down at it, completely and utterly embarrassed. It was bloody and disgusting.

You rushed into the bathroom and slowly peeled the tissue away, wincing at the pain. The blood had dried up and pulled at your torn skin. It hurt and tears welled up in the corners of your eyes but you blinked them away quickly. You finally got it off and threw it into the toilet and then flushed it (not wanting to dirty his dustbin).

You turned the tap on and ran your finger underneath it, closing your eyes in pleasure at the cool stream.

“Do you need help?” you heard his voice from outside the bathroom.

“No no..I’m alright” you said quickly. He had already wasted so much of his time on you so you tried to hurry up and closed the tap. The bleeding had thankfully almost stopped but the cut was still raw.

You walked outside and found him bending down looking through a mini fridge.

“Oh good you’re okay” he said smiling and gesturing to the purple couch, “sit down”

He pulled a bottle of orange juice from the fridge and handed it to you, “Here Y/N”

Your eyes widened when he said your name.

You grabbed the cold bottle, “You know my name?”. As soon as you realised what you had said in your hazy state you looked down and wanted to slap yourself. Had you really just asked him that?

He laughed showing his teeth and you couldn’t help but smile as well when he sat beside you on the other side of the couch, “Of course I do….Cassandra said it like ten times”

For some reason your heart ached at her mention.

You suddenly felt a wetness where you were sitting and remembered the ground had been completely wet where you had sat down. You hurriedly got up and looked at the couch which was now also damp where you had been sitting. Fuck, you had lost count of how many times you had embarrassed yourself in front of Daniel just today.

“Shit, I’m so sorry” you said, and clasped a hand over your mouth

“Oh no, it’s fine” he said sporting a confused expression.

“It was raining outside” you said hurriedly, not wanting him to think it was some other accident.

He looked at you a soft grin on his face, “I know, don’t worry”, his voice was oddly soothing, calming your nerves almost immediately.

He walked to a cupboard near the bathroom and pulled out a towel. He placed it on the damp spot.

“There we go” he said smiling. He put his hands on his hips, looking at you and then towards the couch, “you can sit now”

You did but decided you had bothered him enough for one day.

“I should get going now…I’m so sorry for troubling you” you said getting ready to get up.

“Wait your cut…and drink some before you get up” Daniel said softly, pointing to the bottle in your hand. You opened it and took a sip, you could feel the sweet cold liquid travel down your throat and through your chest. You took another.

“Feels good doesn’t it?’ he said from his position on the counter. From what could you see, he was rummaging through his wallet. He pulled out a large bandage and came over to you.

“Here…it won’t do much but it’ll keep the cut covered until you can get it wrapped by the medic inside the studio” he quipped handing it to you.

“Thank you so much…seriously”

“Do you need help putting it on?” he said grabbing his phone and putting it into his back pocket.

“Oh no, I’ll manage….I’m sorry again”

“I have to go now but you stay here as long as you like, okay?” he said.

“Thanks” you said smiling, who knew he would be so nice?

“Oh and do me one favour” he said grinning, as he was making his way out the door.

“Anything” you replied, curious to hear what he had in mind.

“Stop apologising” he laughed, before leaving the trailer.

You smiled widely to yourself.

Had this all really just happened? Seeing Daniel was insane in itself but actually interacting with him? You honestly still didn’t understand how you got a word out of your mouth. He seemed intimidating, but when he spoke to you, his voice was soothing and you felt like you could’ve talked to him forever. You looked down in awe at the hand he had held. You knew you were acting like a crazy fangirl, but you couldn’t surpress your emotions all the time.

You snapped back to reality when you felt your cut suddenly sting. He had said there was a medic inside the studio. You got up quickly, Cassandra was probably wondering where you were and you had to get your finger wrapped first.

8:12 am

You took a deep breath as you walked up the stairs of the make up trailer to Cassandra, Jasmine, and Daniel. You hoped that Cassandra wouldn’t be mad at you for taking so long. You hadn’t realised how bad the cut actually was until you took it to the on set medic and he wrapped your fingers in who knows how many layers of gauze.

Your heartbeat accelerated as you opened the door slowly. You thankfully calmed down when you saw that everyone was loud and bustling around, no one had even noticed you had entered. You walked over to Daniel’s chair, where Jasmine was looking closely at the mirror. As you got closer you saw that there were multiple pictures of the weeping monk stuck into the frame of the mirror. She whipped her head around when she saw you in the mirror.

“Y/N!” A worried expression adorned her face, “are you okay?”

“Oh yeah I’m fine…It looks worse than it really is” you said waving your finger in the air to show her.

“Are you sure? Are you okay to help us?”

“Oh yeah definitely” you said scoffing, “It’s nothing”

She smiled, “Okay good”

You looked in the mirror at Daniel. He was looking at you, a knowing smile on his face. You looked away. You still couldn’t believe that he had seen you in such a flustered and sick state. It had been exciting when he had helped you but now you realised that he probably thought you were some kind off freak, going berserk over such a small amount of blood.

All of a sudden feelings of sadness, anger and embarrassment flooded over you. Sadness because this was essentially the first impression that Daniel had of you, and anger directed towards yourself for freaking out like you did.

129 notes · View notes

skinnedhearts · 3 years ago

Text

love scars

He doesn’t know when the scars first became a symbol of love.

From an outside view, his mental image of them can be seen as some fucked up game Micah chooses to ignore the warning sides to — collect them all! The expanse of his skin at some point had become that similar to a paper card handed to frequent visitors at a shop; a stamp for each visit with ten being the goal for a free prize.

Micah had lost count of how many stamps he had collected already.

“You’ve got to stop doing this.” Reva had jammed her chipped, gray nail polished index finger against the side of his neck, purposely hitting the freshly tended wound that Quinn had just patched up.

“Reva…” Quinn’s tone was laced with concern and warning.

Reva simply chose to ignore it, further digging her finger into Micah’s neck where she watched his tainted blood stain the gauze cloth on his injury, “Is this some fucked up game to the two of you? Where’s the end goal? When you’re dead!?”

“Enough, enough…!” Micah erupted in a sea of whines, his hand slapping away at Reva’s in pain. “So he went a little overboard with the biting this time,” he shrugs, “It ain’t like I’m dead.”

“Darling—”

“You’re a fucking idiot.” Reva cuts into whatever Quinn had to say, “Why are you so bent on still sleeping with the guy, it’s not like you don’t have other boytoys around to fuck.”

“Because he’s in love…” Finally able to speak, Quinn’s words plummet the room into silence.

Of course that was the obvious answer to it all, Reva was aware of that much as well. But deep down… a part of her had still hoped that her dumb cousin didn’t bear the constant injuries he’d obtained because of such a troublesome emotion. It wasn’t that Reva didn’t wish for his happiness, no. Call it fear and concern that she wasn’t sure how to express — that one day, Micah would cease to exist.

♥

He had a habit of studying every mark on his body.

Though his time alone inside the house was rare, Micah knew that he could always count on the brief window he obtained the moment he wandered into the bathroom to turn on the shower and let the sound of the water stream fill the room.

“I’m probably going to take a while so out, out,” he had nudged Nameless out of the bathroom, giving him no chance to inspect the damage that was left behind on his body.

Micah knew that Nameless wasn’t dumb, somewhere in between their moments spent together under the sheets, he knew that his streams of pleasured filled moans had hitched into sounds of pain in the middle of it all. Many times in those moments, Nameless would pull away — rare times in other moments, Micah would distract any concern with a simple roll of his hips and a breathless plea for more.

“Micah…” Nameless’ voice held a warning to it, a silent command demanding to see. The tone only made Micah’s heart twist.

“I’m fine,” He interjected back in response, the burning sensation he felt on his hips and blood dripping down the new wounds on his skin saying otherwise. “You want to pamper me that badly, babe? I’m touched… How ‘bout you go fetch me something to eat then. I've got a meal in the fridge that I've been saving, if I'm lucky enough, Inigo has probably yet to eat it."

"Why are you being so damn stubborn about this as if I didn't hear the noise you made earlier."

Micah sighed, "Because I'm fine…" Through the bathroom door still slightly opened ajar, Micah reached out to gently cup Nameless' face with his hand — with his thumb, he stroked circles on the curve of Nameless' cheek, "I'm in one piece, aren't I?"

Tender… Micah's golden eyes drowned in a honeyed tenderness that took in every detail of Nameless' face. From the dip in between his displeased, furrowed brows, to the doubt in his eyes, Micah soaked it all in.

"I just wanna take a quick shower. Think I deserve that much considering the fact that someone likes to dirty me everywhere."

The response isn't one that Micah wants, but his stubbornness is what makes Nameless pull back with a sigh, "You're letting me see after you're out of the shower."

"No promises, sweetheart."

Before another cycle of disagreement could begin, Micah closes the bathroom door. His sigh is a silent one, a sudden exhaustion washing over his entire body. Every small movement, every gentle shifting; all of it causes the muscles in his body to cry out in pain. But it’s in front of this full body mirror hooked onto the bathroom wall that he can turn his body one way and then another — some faded out scars here, some new, dried up scabs there… And on his hips, Micah lets the tips of his fingers gently stroke the freshly done marks with a touch as light as a feather.

His blood smears onto his freckled skin, but he pays no mind. His attention solely focused on the way his fingers looked above the indents where Nameless’ fingers had deeply dug into his skin to the point of piercing. No one would agree with his thought process, but to Micah, these injuries felt like home.

♥

“You should get rid of them.”

“I already said I’m not going to.”

“Are you that sick in the head?” Asya’s voice holds an edge to it, a displeased growl laced in anger and hidden concern, “Nevermind. Don’t answer that.”

“Aw, after all these years, you finally know me like the palm of your hand? I’m touched, Kier.”

Asya isn’t pleased. Of course he isn’t. Though Micah hoped that he would somehow be able to talk himself out of this current predicament he’s found himself in, he knows that a broken bone is a lot harder to ease the edge out of than some cuts and bruises.

In our defense, it’s not the first time a bone has been broken. He wishes to say, but he knows the statement would not ease the situation regardless of how much truth it held.

Yes, it was unfortunate that his arm still held an intense ache despite the majority of the shattered bones in his arm being healed; and of course, there was no greater turn off to sex than his sudden shouts in pain, but he was no stranger to a few chipped bones. He really wasn’t…

Sometimes, in the heat of it all, Micah would rarely notice the way Nameless’ hands would grip too tight around his arms. His only focus in those moments being how good it felt to be pinned down against the mattress, touched in ways that made him feel so, so wanted. He craved for that desperation the most, he thrived off the intensity of it all rising the moment his legs wrapped around Nameless’ waist to pull him closer — I want you… he’d gasp into the shell of Nameless’ ear, just you, you, you…

( Micah’s punishment would come the next day, when he’d wake up with his arms unbearably sore and swollen; dark, nasty bruises in the shapes of fingers signaling the injured area.

Fractured, Tea would run a smoke covered hand above Micah’s wounds at a later time. At this point, he was unphased. At this point, Micah knew not to glance at Nameless’ face during it all. You have but a fool’s luck. This could have been two broken arms.

Maybe so… Micah hums, his legs kicking and swaying as he sits on top of the kitchen counter. But it wasn’t, so we’re all good now, right?

Wrong. He knew this, he really, really did… but he’d always hope it wouldn’t be the last time. )

“Look,” Asya began, and Micah instantly understood his tone of voice as a lecture to come. “Quinn and I have been talking, she thinks there’s a way we can get rid of the scars without her personally taking an effect. You don’t have to keep living with all the marks you’ve gotten, Micah. It’s fine to get rid of them.”

“It’s my choice to keep them, isn’t it?” Micah hisses, his body tensing in defense similarly to a mother cat protecting her children. Similarly to a witch desperate to be in love, protecting the only marks he can keep of his lover. “I don’t know why you, Revs, and Quinn give me such a hard time ‘bout them. My body, my rules. I didn’t know I somehow belonged to all three of you, too.”

“You’re romanticizing them, Micah. You’re getting hurt.”

“Oh, so now the paranoid, jealous hypocrite wants to speak to me about what’s healthy and what isn’t.”

Asya responds with silence, and Micah sighs with guilt.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” Too embarrassed to meet Asya’s eyes, Micah glances away to where Nameless resides at a distance with Tea; possibly going over Micah’s newly obtained injuries. “We can’t be together, y’know. Not the way I want us to… It’s funny… I never really realized how much I longed to be in a sappy, disgusting relationship the way you have one with Sylvs. With the kissing and the y’know,” he gestures vaguely with his one uninjured hand. “The closest I get is this weird no label thing.”

“... But don’t you think this is still good enough?”

“You tell me, Kier.” Micah glances back at Asya, sunset meeting forest land. “Would you be content never having anything official with Sylvee? Knowing that one day, one can just walk away and you can’t hold the other back because it’s not like you ever had anything solid to begin with.”

Asya can’t help but sigh, and Micah knows that at least for now, he’s won this miniscule dispute.

“You can’t keep seeing these scars as your only symbols of love, Micah…” Asya still speaks, settling on the couch next to Micah where he picks up the arm brace Tea was meant to strap on him before calling Nameless aside. “Not to come off as a smartass over the obvious that you’ve done already, but try talking to him, you got that?”

Without an instant response, Micah gently strokes the scars in shape of puncture wounds peeking out from the holes in his ripped jeans. He knows Asya has a point, he knows everyone who’s ever spoken to him has had nothing but insightful advice to say, but in the moments where Micah feels himself work up the courage to speak, to confess the love that’s been bubbling up like a geyser deep within his heart; ready to burst… self destructiveness is a hell of a drug that kicks in.

And though he knows that Nameless himself has a better head in his shoulder — proven the times he ignores Micah’s advances and tucks him into bed with such tenderness (how it aches, it always aches…), he can’t help but fear that if he were to speak, it would all come crumbling down.

“I’ll think about it.” Micah responds, and Asya knows that’s the most he’ll get out of him for now.

#micah #asya #quinn #reva #tea #nameless

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