#but on stage it’s gotta be the same pair of falling apart jeans every show w the bat belt buckle im sorry there’s no other options

[x-ladydisdain-x]

the world if gerard had been wearing skirts revenge era

[leahseclipse]

Early stages

(Gif by @zhuzhubii​ )

*

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Summary: When Spencer starts dating someone, his work gets in the way, causing more problems than he thought it would.

Category: Fluff/ ~Angst

Warnings: Mentions of case, usual cm stuff, but mostly fluff

Requested by @definitelynotkatesblog​ (ily Katie!!)

A/N: Okay guys be ready, 'cause you're in a full ride for a fluff fic with baby Reid ;) I just fking love writing baby Reid, he's *screams internally* (you got the idea) anyway, enjoy!!!

Word count: 5.1k

After shortly visiting his mother after he wasn't able to visit her for a week because of work, he had made his way back to the office, checking his watch that indicated him that it was 5:44PM as he left the building; the weather was quite comfortable when he had gotten outside.

His phone had run out of battery, resulting in hurrying back to the office in case he had been called for a case, as he was way too embarrassed to ask for someone's phone to call JJ. 

Spencer never was comfortable to talk with people, it had been a bit difficult to feel at ease with his colleagues at first, but eventually he got the hang of it, but in general, when he doesn't know people, it's a different thing. 

The first impression that they usually have when he begins rambling about things that come out of his head is that he's either weird, before he explains the "I can read 20 000 words per minute, I have an eidetic memory and an IQ of 187…" thing. 

They also freeze for a minute, trying to understand what he just said, for the simple reason that when he rambles about binary code for example, not everyone tends to understand the way he explains it when he uses the proper terms. 

As he was in a hurry, he didn't manage to get the time he needed for putting his stuff back in his satchel, so a few of the books he had originally taken from his apartment and the ones his mother had given him to read were in his arms. He just had to hope the books wouldn't end up on the floor because he'd stumble into someone on the way.

And a few seconds later, what he hadn't hoped for unfortunately happened.

He hadn't seen the girl who was running in front of him while he was in his thoughts. She seemed to be in a hurry from the way she was running.

He had managed to save a few books from falling to the ground, only two or three had fallen.

"Oh- I-I'm sorry! Let me help!" She had said, panicking.

"It's okay, don't...worry." He reached out his hands towards the girl's hand that was holding the two books, as he looked at her.

She was beautiful.

The kind of beautiful girl that takes your breath away.

It had taken him a few seconds to come back to reality after he had froze when he had seen her face.

"A-are you okay? I hope you...didn't get hurt."

"Don't worry! Everything's okay! I...uh, gotta go, I'm so sorry for the inconvenience, have a great day!" She hurried out before running past him down the street.

He hadn't even gotten the time to ask for her name, she was already gone when he had glanced behind him. 

He had let out a sigh, before walking in the opposite way, in hopes to see her again, even if it wouldn't be soon, or never, if she wasn't from around.

*

For once, the beginning of the day had happened to be quite calm, everyone had managed to get more sleep and head to the office at eight o'clock instead of two in the morning.

Spencer had felt relieved about that, just a few days ago, the usual coffee shop he goes to and that happens to be closer to his apartment had reopened after the works that needed to be done were completed.

He didn't feel like drinking the coffee they had at the office, it wasn't horrible, but not as good at the one he usually drinks from the shop.

Before he had stepped inside, he had called Morgan to ask him and eventually the team if they wanted him to grab coffee.

It wasn't a serious thing that could go to the point of a real fight if he wouldn't ask them, but he'd get "lectured" by Morgan for a few minutes before he'd give up.

It only was a simple joke between the members, but Spencer didn't really go well with the joke stuff. 

After he had scribbled down the orders on a paper before hanging up, he stepped inside the shop, waiting in line behind someone.

"I can't join you guys tonight, sorry. I'm not sure that my boss would let me leave early….maybe on Thursday. Okay, yeah. It's gonna be my turn, I gotta go. Yeah, bye Sarah." 

He didn't mean to pay attention when she was talking on the phone, it happened before he even got the time to not do it, but the voice suddenly felt familiar.

'Where have I heard it?'

He searched for a bit in his mind, as the incident from a week ago popped up.

"Oh- I-I'm sorry! Let me help!"

"Don't worry! Everything's okay! I...uh, gotta go, I'm so sorry for the inconvenience, have a great day!"

The girl from the other day.

'Was it really her?'

He had asked himself that, because completely different people can have the same voice, and as for her hair, different people can happen to look the same when you can only see their backs.

Spencer had immediately thought that it must have been fate that allowed him to see her again, but he couldn't rush too fast, he wasn't really sure that it was her.

It wasn't until she had stepped further towards the counter when it happened to be her turn to order; causing Spencer to step out of his bubble and step forward as well.

Deep inside him, he knew that it was her, he was sure, but his lack of social interaction made him create an excuse so that he wouldn't have to talk to her.

He didn't want her to think that he's weird because he'd ask for her name, and possibly her number if the conversation goes well, but he couldn't rush.

He still had to manage to place a word in order to initiate the conversation first.

If only.

When her order was done and handed to her after the payment had been given, she was on her way to the exit, suddenly stopping to take her bag from the side to the front before opening it, probably to look for something.

He didn't exactly know what went on in his mind at that moment; his brain must have sent a signal or something for him to move instead of watching her go.

He still doesn't know how he managed to place a word.

"Um...excuse me? I don't know if you remember me but we kinda...uh, talked, well uh...I, we ran into each other first, but don't worry, it was totally ok, you didn't...do anything bad, I- sorry, I'm rambling."

"No, it's okay! I remember you. I'm glad to know that, I was afraid I did something bad, you reassured me now. Thanks for asking me how I was...I'm sorry, what's your name?"

"It's Spencer R-Reid. I also uh...generally introduce myself by doctor, I'm not actually an MD, but I have three PhDs, but uh...since I'm not actually here for professional terms, I thought that doctor would have been too um...strict..? I…"

'You're rambling again Spencer, she looks even more confused now.' 

"Is Spencer fine then?"

"Y-yeah, it is. What should I...call you?"

"Oh, y/n is just fine." 

"Um...okay. Y/N," He paused, as he desperately tried to convince himself to ask her the question that had been in his mind since he had seen her. 

"I know all of this is sudden, because we barely know each other and I may seem kind of weird because of what I'm asking but, what about we uh...see each other later, hang out, you know?"

"Yeah, why not? I'm free tomorrow, what about 2PM, same place? You'll show me some of your books, I guess. I really liked the blue one you had, I can't remember the name."

"Oh, t-that one?." He said, rapidly taking it from his bag to show it to her as she nodded.

"That one, yeah, it really sounds interesting, will you tell me more about it tomorrow?"

"I will."

"Great! I can't wait, see you tomorrow."

"See you." He said, as he watched her making her way to the exit before disappearing in the corner of the street.

Well, turns out it wasn't as bad as he had imagined it would be in his head. At least that's one thing done. 

He couldn't wait for that day, and the next one to go by so that he could finally talk to her. He wanted to show her the book, answer her questions, give her information, he wanted to hear her voice, see her expressions. It had only taken just a glance to fall in love with her.

She might not feel the same way now, but even seeing her would be enough.

The excitement and waiting had been worth it when he had seen her again. He was already there for an hour, he didn't want to be late and made her wait at all. It never was his type to be late, especially if he's about to spend time with a person he likes.

She was wearing a beige cardigan along with a white top under it, and black jeans, tucked under her black shoes. He had noticed every single detail. 

Someone else would have probably found it weird and compared that behavior to a psychopath's; but he couldn't just give a single glance at her and stop looking, but eventually, he'd had to stop staring if he didn't want to scare her.

When he had begun talking with her, he understood what people meant when they felt like they knew someone for an eternity. 

Spencer had felt at ease when they talked, she'd listen to him, even if he noticed that she had understood half of what he had said, but still tried to somehow figure it out before he had explained, and kinda understood and didn't at the same time.

He had noticed that she'd put her thumb on her lips every time she was thoughtful.

He clearly had the behavior of a psychopath by picking up everything she'd do; but he couldn't help himself but look at her features, her manners, the way her hair bounced back and forth, the way her eyes lightened up when a subject she appreciated came up in the conversation.

In that moment, she was the only thing his mind was focused on. He hadn't even noticed that he had barely drunk the half of his cup that was now cold when he had put his hands on it. 

He was too mesmerized by her to notice it.

Who would have thought that the small genius of the office, the one that not a single member of the team would imagine he'd talk to a girl, would actually talking to one, plus, managed to be the one to initiate the conversation? That clearly seemed impossible until that day.

But even if it seemed unreal, she was here, in front of him. 

It wasn't a dream.

What made him think it was a dream was because y/n was way out of her league, if someone would see them together they'd probably ask themselves how he did to talk with a girl that beautiful, from his point of view.

If she hadn't talked when he had started blanking, none of them would have been able to talk. She seemed more confident, but he still had noticed her hesitance when she started her sentences, or didn't know if she could ask for an easier meaning of his rambling.

Even if the most nervous of the two was probably him, he had told her not to hesitate if she needed to ask a question about whatever he was saying.

The team had often made him know that he often was talking without explaining, which caused him to have to explain everything from the beginning with easier terms, instead of the proper ones that no one could even understand if they didn't actually know the meaning beforehand.

They haven't talked about work at all, they just forgot about it. To Spencer, they were like two teenagers hanging out in a coffee shop after school. 

They had talked about books, their music taste, even if the conversation had mainly been made by her as Spencer was more fond of books than music, so, the conversations about books had been started by him in general.

She knew some books, but she wasn't reading often, and had admitted that she didn't know many authors, which Spencer gladly helped by proposing a hundred of authors.

He had unconsciously ended up overwhelming her a bit after proposing ten authors in a row; she had to gently stop him to ask him to come back to some of the authors he had listed.

But, nonetheless, the free hour and the few minutes had gone smoothly, and way too fast. 

"Shit, it's already 3:20. Um...do you want to stay in touch?"

"You mean that you want my...number?"

"Yeah. Gimme your phone genius." She said, as Spencer had nervously taken in from his pocket to give it to her, as she entered her number, handing it back when she was done. "I've already sent a message so I know who it is. I really liked talking to you, that was nice."

"I-I liked it too. It's not everyday that I get to chat about books with someone else. I don't...really have a lot of people to talk it with."

"Well now you have someone. I would have told you to call me whenever you want, but I doubt my boss would like to see me on a call that's not related to work, so it would be in the evening, in case you want to talk."

"Same here. I'm pretty busy all day, but um...would you uh, like to hang out again sometime? I...it just crossed my mind, and I'd really like to hang out with you again. If you want, of course."

"Don't worry, it's okay. You know that I wouldn't dare to say no, I like to hang out with you too."

"So uh, if we can this week again, what do you say about two or six in the afternoon, tomorrow? I'll let you know if I can."

"You mean...like a date?"

"Yeah, I guess so?"

"Oh, a date it is then. I'll let you know too." She spontaneously answered, as she took her stuff and got up from her seat. "It sucks that we have to go, I wish we could have had more time, but unfortunately, we both work."

"Sucks, yeah. The hour went by fast." 

"It did. Way too fast." She let out a sigh, glancing at the door. "Well uh...see you later, I have to go n-now." She stuttered, as she waved at him before stepping out the shop.

"See you later y/n." 

And that was it, he definitely was head over heels with her. 

*

He suddenly found himself waking up in a start in the middle of a night when his phone began ringing.

It took him a few seconds to realize what was just happening, as he took the phone and answered before missing the call.

"What…? It's 4AM."

"Reid, it's Morgan, and yeah it's 4. We got a case so you gotta come."

"Seriously…? Okay, I'll be there in 15." 

"Got it. Don't be late." Morgan said, hanging up.

What an awesome way to start the day.

Just yesterday, he thought that his day would be calm, just for once. 

Well, he was wrong.

He grunted as he got up from the bed, before turning his lamp on in order to manage to see something instead of trying to find the light switch with the little light that was here.

It never took him a lot of time to get ready in the morning in general, he wasn't the type of person to linger when he'd get ready, he'd just go to the bathroom first to take a quick shower, taking his clothes in with him so he wouldn't have to search for them in his closet, he'll just have to dry up and put them on to save time.

Once he was done with the tasks he had in mind; he quickly checked that he had everything he'd needed, and proceeded to exit his apartment to make his way to work.

On his way, he had received a few messages to which he had answered, but accidentally went on y/n's contact.

'Shit.'

They were supposed to have a date today; and whether the case is nearby or in another state, he won't come back for at least more than a day, and probably won't have much time for the kind of chat they had the other day.

Well, that's another great way to start the day, because now he has to cancel a date he had been waiting for, and doesn't even know when they could set another day, or if it would even be possible at all.

The very least he could do, and the only one, would be to contact her to let her know.

Hopefully they'll be able to reschedule.

*

Turns out another killer decided to make the case longer, so turns out they had to reschedule once again.

He had messaged her earlier in the day before going in the jet, and the case happened to be longer than expected because they'd just discovered that another unsub could be involved. 

And as if it wasn't already bad, he was using the same m.o, but wasn't targeting the same type of victims, it totally was different. If he could say it that way, they just had 'another case'.

The week was going amazingly great, he wasn't even sure if the second rescheduling would even happen, no one could know of a case in advance, the only way for them to know was per a call. 

He would have to give her the same excuse every time.

She had kept sending messages as; 'it's okay.', 'don't worry', 'it's no big deal', but he couldn't figure out whether it truly didn't bother her, or if she pretended like it didn't bother her.

He didn't tell her what exactly his job was, so it really pained him to have to give the same excuse. She would probably start to wonder if he's not lying at some point later.

 Spencer really didn't want her to think he was making up excuses because he wants to avoid y/n, it's the opposite; he'd like to see her so bad, if he could just go and take the first plane to Quantico, he'd do it.

God, he hated that. It truly wasn't something he liked to do, especially to her in this situation. She really was nice, caring, attentive, an awesome person; he didn't like to put her in that situation at all.

He would have liked to have a second choice, but he didn't have any. He could only send her a message to let her know. He couldn't see her, but he couldn't bear imagining how disappointed she must have been.

His thoughts about what she must have been thinking were probably exaggerated after he thought of it. He could be worrying for nothing, and she could just be okay with it, as she told in her messages. He really hoped she didn't think he was avoiding her.

Let's hope they'll be able to reschedule.

*

"Again? God, is it ever gonna stop? I'm tired of it." Spencer slighted, he had to reschedule...again. 

"Trust me kid, everyone is. It's been a hell of a week we just had." Morgan answered Spencer, as he leaned back in his seat. "What got you so frustrated? You're not like that usually."

"What do you mean?"

"Come on kid, I can see that you have something on your mind. I would say that it was your mom, but even when you don't see her for a week, a call is enough for you to be calm. So...it is a girl?"

"What? No, it's not! I'm j-just frustrated, that's all! There's uh, nothing else."

"Then if there's 'nothing', why are you getting so nervous suddenly? You can tell me if you have a girl, we're like brothers Spencer."

"You know that you can really get annoying sometimes?"

"No. Probably because I'm not. Who do you think I am? I'm Derek Morgan, a funny and charming man." 

"Funny and charming, yeah. Clearly, the lack of sleep is seriously affecting your brain."

"I can assure you it isn't. Let me remind you that this whole conversation started because you didn't want to admit you had a girl."

"I don't have a girl, we just talk, we're not together."

"So you admit that you…sort of have one?"

"Fine, I kinda have one. But nothing serious is going on."

"I wouldn't have imagined that you'd manage to get a girl to talk to you one day."

"Why? Does everyone think I can't have a girlfriend here?"

"Mostly." Emily interrupted. "You can barely talk to girls in general. Well, it depends."

"What depends?"

"Lila Archer." Morgan answered.

"If you're talking about the kiss, she's the one who started!"

"And you kept going." Emily said.

"Okay- Where is the conversation going guys? I don't see any correspondence between the subject we were talking about and Lila." 

"If you say so, pretty boy."

"There's no 'if you say so.'. You're really annoying Derek. I'm gonna see if they need help in the other room. Bye." Spencer got up from his seat, waving at the two agents, before walking away.

*

Rescheduling.

Again.

He was sure that she was about to lose her patience at this point. 

And considering the amount of paperwork that would be waiting for him after the closure of the case, he began asking himself if they'd ever had a single minute one day.

He got out of the building, deciding to call her this time.

"Hello?"

"Uh, hi y/n, it's Spencer."

"Oh, do we have to reschedule again?"

"Yeah. Again."

"Spencer, is something wrong? It's been three times already."

"I know. It's just that….there's something I haven't told you." 

"And...what is it?"

"I...wasn't going to tell you at first, but...I work for the FBI."

"That's why? You could have told me, I wouldn't have been mad; but, if you didn't want us to see each other again, you could have let me know at least."

"Wait, no- I do want us to see each other again! I was just...really busy at the office, and I...didn't know how to tell you...that I work for the FBI. I didn't want to avoid you, not at all."

"It really is okay. I'm glad that you told me now. Thanks."

"I didn't want to lie to you anymore. I was already sad whenever I had to send you a message."

"I was a bit sad too, I really want to see you. Well, now that I know the reason why, call me again when you want to reschedule, it can be a real meeting, or just a call."

"I'm really gonna do my best, I swear y/n. I'll let you know as soon as possible." 

"I'll wait for your call then."

"Okay, uh...have a great day."

"You too." She said, as Spencer hung up, visibly looking irritated because of the situation.

*

The week had been surprisingly calm. 

Surprisingly, because by now, JJ would have come by to announce a new case, but she didn't. When everyone had seen her, she was walking calmly, not in a rush.

This was weird.

The past few days, when he'd finally think he could call y/n, JJ would burst in the office. But this time, she didn't. 

Today could really be a calm one. It could be. 

If he happened to have luck today, he could finally hang out with y/n. No more rescheduling. 

As everyone was either busy with paperwork, daydreaming, or doing something else, the office wasn't as noisy at it usually was. Only the sound of the doors, phones ringing and a few calm voices would eventually be heard by everyone.

The team's tasks had suddenly been interrupted by the voice of Rossi who stepped in the bureau.

"Guys, I was wondering, since we apparently don't have anything to do, what about a dinner party tonight, my place? Just thought about it." He asked, as a few sentences of agreement were soon heard. "And Reid, you're coming this time, don't you dare decline."

"I uh…plan to see someone. So, I don't really know."

"Then bring them to the party. I'm sure we'll like whoever you'll bring. It's all solved." Rossi clapped his hands together, turning to the other side when Emily had brought his attention.

'I guess it's happening then.'

He quietly got out of the bureau, walking in the direction of an empty conference room, closing the door behind him, before taking his phone from his pocket to dial a number he knew so well that he could type it with his eyes closed.

"Oh, hi Spencer, what's going on?"

"Are you free tonight? At um...8PM?"

"Yeah, I actually am. You know that I never have anything to do. Where do you want to go?"

"Actually, it's a surprise. I'll come to pick you up, uh…would it be too intrusive to ask for your adress?"

"No, not at all. This is wow...exciting. We'll finally get to see each other."

"Yeah, I know. It's been a while since we were supposed to see each other, but I swear, it's for real this time, I won't call you to cancel, only to let you know I'm coming."

"Well, don't forget to call then. I tend to overstress, so if I don't get a call, or even a text, I might explode."

"I'll call, don't worry. And, don't forget to send your address. I don't want to ask the tech analyst to spy on you."

"Alright, alright, I'll send it after the call, I promise. I have to go now, sorry. I'll see you at 8."

"I'll see you at 8. Bye." 

Holy. 

Spencer thought he might explode. His whole thoughts were full of excitement, he finally was about to see her after a week or rescheduling bullshit because of the work. 

All he had to hope for now was for the evening to go well; she didn’t knew any of the members, they didn’t know her as well, plus, Spencer didn’t really know if Morgan had let everyone know that he had met a girl, let’s hope not.

*

As he was about to go, he had took his phone out of his pocket to see the address, before noticing that she had forgotten to send him the address, nonetheless, he had to shortly call her so that y/n could indicate it to him.

He had drove to her place in just a few minutes, and couldn’t believe that she happened to live in a street he’d walk by often.

What a small world.

It almost was like they were meant to meet each other at some point; and fate reunited them. 

He knew that he had said it at least a billion times since he had first seen her, but she really was pretty. She had a black dress on, which was under a thin jacket of the same color, along with white heels, that weren’t too high.

Spencer had even wondered if she hadn’t put heels so that she could be a bit taller, and somehow manage to reach his height. He didn’t want to mention it to make her uncomfortable in case it happened to be what she wanted to do, but if it was that, he really found it cute, and quite funny.

The car ride had happened to be more entertaining that he thought it would be, the conversation simply started with a single talk about books, and a few minutes later, it was about plants. He really like to be capable to talk with someone that was at ease to talk about anything that’d cross his mind.

She didn’t seem to be uncomfortable, so that reassured him a lot, he stressed a lot about it.

God, he couldn’t believe that he actually was talking with her. He had already mentionned it when he had to reschedule again, but she was way too beautiful for him. She’d be able to freeze his mind with a single glance.

She truly was amazing.

“Spencer? Is everything okay? I think we just arrived, you stopped the car”

“What? Oh, I-I’m sorry, I got distracted. And y-yeah we just arrived.”

“That place is...huge.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I thought that too the first time. You’ll quickly adjust to it, Rossi is really nice, you’ll feel at ease in no time. Come on, we should get going.” Spencer said, as they both opened the door that was on their respective side, before walking in the alley towards the door.

They soon were welcomed by a blonde girl after Spencer had rang the doorbell. She seemed a bit shocked of what was in front of her eyes.

“Oh my god, did you bring your girlfriend Spencer? I wasn’t aware of that.”

“Uh I...we are uh, just dating, for now, it’s uh-”

“We’re not together yet, we just talked, it’s our first date tonight.” Y/N had interrupted Spencer, as she could clearly see that he was struggling with forming a sentence.

“Oh, wow, it’s great! I’m happy to know that. I’m Penelope, by the way. You can call me Penny if you want. Come inside guys, I’ll introduce her to the rest of the team.” Penelope said, looking at Y/N, as she closed the door once they were in.

“There you are pretty boy! I see you brought the mystery girl with you. I’m Derek.”

“I’m y/n. It’s nice to meet everyone, I heard a lot about the team when I talked with Spencer.”

“I hope he didn’t tell bad things about us, we’re nothing but nice.”

“No, don’t worry, he didn’t.” She said, as she glanced behind his shoulder at the people walking towards them.

“We have a new face here apparently.” The brunette said.

“Yeah, I’m the new specimen. It’s nice to meet you, I’m y/n.”

“Nice to meet you too; I’m Emily, this is JJ, and the two guys over there are Rossi and Hotch.” Emily said, as she motioned the concerned people to y/n. 

“Everyone really seems nice.”

“Don’t worry, everyone is.” Spencer interrupted. “What do you say we uh...go over there so you can talk to others...?”

“Yeah, that’d be great.” She smiled,as she walked to the direction of the living room where the two men stood.

The evening had gone even more better than he thought it would. They all had been amazingly welcoming with her, and as he had noticed, they all had felt like they had known each other for more than just a few hours.

Spencer couldn’t truly wait to spend more time with her.

[svtskneecaps]

crew and cast

(gender neutral) reader x jihoon

genre: fluff + some?? angst? listen i tried lmao; words: 2.8k

well howdy @toxicsocial​ tis i, your tct secret santa. so uh, i can’t actually make people cry in a timely manner and i didn’t figure most people would be down to read like 9k of buildup, so!! the angst is minimal!!! but i tried really hard and i hope you like it i love you so much also i forgot to title it again until right now so don’t look at it too hard

You loved your high school’s theatre crew. From freshman year they’d been a staple in your life. It was refreshingly stable to be able to walk into the tech room anytime and reliably know what would be going on. Except, there was one thing about theatre you couldn’t stand: Lee Jihoon. You’d avoided him since freshman year, but unfortunately for you, you’d taken over the position of Run Crew Head and Prop Master, and he was the Student Director. You were forced to sit through every production meeting with him.

Which, fine. You’d do anything for the show to run well. But that didn’t change the fact that he made you want to commit a crime.

Or three.

“Great news guys!” you yelled, sweeping into the tech room. “The crutches still aren’t right and Jihoon wants us to repaint the brickwork on the platforms to be less ‘garish’ and the typewriter is from the 1940s when it should be from the 1890s and I’m going to set something on fire!”

Chan slammed his head against the nearest cabinet. “This is the third time he’s rejected the brickwork, oh my god.”

“Fourth time he’s hated the crutches too, and I’ve told him that the only period accurate typewriter in the basement is literally one wrong keystroke from breaking onstage but I guess he’s willing to take that risk for a typewriter that’s going to be in one scene.” You massaged your forehead. “I’m gonna stay late Wednesday so we can have our shit together by Hell Week.”

“I’ll have to join.” Chan peeled his head off the cabinet, cracking his knuckles. “You think Mingyu’s got time to spare? I might get him to help; there’s way too much platform for me to do in time.”

“Dunno, he’s pretty busy.” Vernon scooped a loose screw out of a sawdust pile and swept the whole thing into the dustpan. “Makeup’s been working hard to get the ‘ragged urchin’ look right.”

“I’ll con Soonyoung into it then, I don’t think they’re rehearsing the dance numbers tomorrow so he might be free.”

“I wish you luck with that, dude.” You scooped the crutch off the floor. “I gotta go beg costumes to let me into the basement storage and see if there’s another goddamn piece of fabric I can use for the crutches.”

“You have fun.”

You ended up getting lucky; Minghao already needed to go down there so you wouldn’t have to fight for cell signal to make sure you were allowed to deface the cloth scraps you’d found.

“You seem stressed,” he noted as he unlocked the basement door.

You snorted. “Stressed is an understatement.”

“Jihoon again?”

“If he tells me to redo the damn crutches again I’m going to nail him to the wall.”

Minghao lead the way down the stairs. “I really thought you had it that time.”

“Nothing is good enough for that guy.”

He shrugged. “He just wants the show to go well.”

“Yeah, well, so do I. He doesn’t have to get up everybody’s ass sticking his opinions where they don’t belong. He’s never been crew, why does he get to make us repaint the entire damn set anyway?”

“He’s the director.”

“Everyone else thought the bricks looked fine!”

Minghao looked at you sideways. “What’s your deal with Jihoon?”

“Like I said, poking his nose where it doesn’t--”

“No, you had beef before he got appointed Student Director.”

You sighed. “I don’t know. He’s always kind of been a pain even when he was ensemble.” You drove your finger into your temple. “And he broke a crucial prop that wasn’t his the night before the show opened and didn’t tell me.”

“You did props?”

“Buddy I was Prop Master. I literally didn’t find out until the Stage Manager tried to run that scene before school.” You glared absently at the shelves of typewriters to one side of the walkway. “I literally had to skip my last three classes and dinner to get a replacement and he never even apologized for it.”

Minghao whistled. “That’s unforgivable.”

“Tell me about it.” You waded through the costume racks to get to the bins of scraps in the back.

“And you’ve never considered forgiving and forgetting? I mean, it’s been two years.”

You sighed, leaning the crutch against a shelf. “I mean. . .”

He snickered. “Come on, it’s just you and me and the ghosts down here, you can say it.”

“I mean. . . he just makes me so mad!” You yanked the lid off a tote with a snap that echoed across the basement. “Like, every time I start thinking maybe he’s not so bad he pulls some other shit on me and I slam right back into hating his goddamn guts.”

“You’re on the same team,” Minghao called down the row. “You’re just trying to make the show better.”

“Making the show better shouldn’t involve painting the entire set three times.”

“I’m just saying, it’d put at least three years back on your lifespan.”

“Yeah yeah.”

You managed to update the crutches by the end of the day, and repainted the entire set on Wednesday--although you had to sacrifice your lunch and free periods and several hours after school to get it all done. Thursday left you with a finished set and another production meeting.

He didn’t like the bricks.

You saw red.

In the hallway, you pulled him aside.

“What don’t you like about the bricks?”

He frowned. “They detract attention from the actors.”

You wanted to seize him by the shoulders and shake him like a maraca. “It’s gray! It is the darkest most nondescript color we have in the buckets and you’re telling me it detracts attention from the actors? You haven’t even seen them rehearse with it!”

“It’s gonna be too much,” he argued. “It’s the same color as half the costumes--”

“I have seen every single costume in the show, it’s not even close to the same pigment!”

“Even still--”

“Listen,” you snapped, your heartbeat pounding in your ears, “if you want the set redone in time for Hell Week then I expect to see you in the goddamn tech room tomorrow after school wearing something you don’t mind getting paint on because I’m not going to make Chan and Vernon repaint the entire damn set by themselves for the fifth time and I have to figure out how to keep that 1890s typewriter from falling apart, do I make myself clear?”

He looked almost disgusted at the prospect, but he nodded stiffly. “Crystal.”

You turned on your heel just as stiffly, striding away before you lost all composure.

To your complete surprise, Jihoon actually showed up the next day, wearing a pair of faded jeans and a shirt so faded that whatever decal had been on the front had long washed away.

“So he arrives!” Chan yelled from his perch on the desk, where he’d been watching you wrestle with the typewriter.

Jihoon looked distinctly uncomfortable, but he squared his shoulders. “Where do you need me?”

“We gotta move all the set pieces in before we start,” Chan said. “Then I’ll probably have you start on the legs. We gotta wait for Vernon before we can move the tall stuff. One sec, I’ll--” he bolted into the hallway.

Jihoon stared after him, then looked to you. “Where is he going?”

“To tell Vernon we’re actually doing the repaint.” You shrugged. “Honestly I’m surprised you showed up.”

“I said I would.”

“Actually you just said you understood the ultimatum; we had no idea if you’d show or not.”

“Oh.”

You shrugged. “Good to have you anyway.”

Chan returned with Vernon before the silence could get too awkward, and you helped them move all the platforms back into the tech room. From there, Vernon set up his speaker and the real work began.

Jihoon helped choose the color of the bricks (and Chan threatened to really break his leg if he changed his mind about it later), and they got to laying down the base coat. You went back to glaring at the typewriter and reading through every antiques article you could find online.

After trying seven different methods to no avail, you shoved your chair away from the desk. “Typewriters are hellspawn created by the Devil himself to punish unfortunate Prop Masters.”

Vernon snickered. “That good, huh?”

“I’m going to put a screwdriver through the keyboard,” you said mildly.

“Okay maybe don’t do that.” Chan paused to pull a clean paintbrush out of his pocket and throw it at you. “You know where the overalls are; come take a break.”

“Why do you just have that?” Jihoon asked.

“A painter is always prepared.”

Jihoon glanced at you. You shrugged. “I don’t question it.”

Between the four of you, you managed to finish all but one platform by the time Chan and Vernon had to go. Being older, you had infinite time, so you cracked your knuckles and sat back at the typewriter. Jihoon lingered in the doorway.

“You need any help?”

You looked up. “Nah, I think I got it. Thank you, though.”

He shifted. “Listen, I know we didn’t really get off on the right foot but, I’m sorry. I know I never really apologized for the prop, and I’m sorry for how long it took, too.”

You sighed. “It’s fine. It’s kind of unfair of me to hold it against you this long anyway, so, I’m sorry too.” It wasn’t the only reason he made you so angry, but that chip on your shoulder made a lot of other offenses you would have normally overlooked seem larger.

“Can we maybe start over?” he asked. “Freshman year all over again?”

You actually found yourself nodding. “As long as you don’t make us repaint the set ever again.”

He laughed, running a paint-stained hand through his hair. “No, I won’t. I can’t do that to your crew again.”

“Good. Cause we weren’t kidding about breaking your legs.”

“I will keep that in mind.” He hiked up his backpack. “I’ll see you on Monday, then?”

“Happy Hell Week.”

Hell Week was hell (and the sky is blue).

Three of the actors lost their voices four days before Opening Night. One of the glasses for the restaurant scene shattered during the dance number--even though it was supposed to be offstage already--and the third lead got very close to twisting her ankle after landing a jump wrong. The actors could never manage to find their light, there were technical glitches with the backstage mics, and you were so on edge that if you heard the word standby you’d jump so bad you’d bruise your knee on the table.

The typewriter gave you more anxiety than it was worth. The actress using it had strict instructions not to actually touch the keys, because the only thing holding it together was gaff tape. You’d put Jun and Wonwoo in charge of bringing the desk it sat on onstage, because you trusted them to have it under control and keep it from tipping, because if it tipped at an angle any more than about 30 degrees, the keys would get out of alignment and that required time and experience to fix, of which you had neither.

Needless to say, you were two steps away from tearing your hair out.

At least you weren’t fighting with Jihoon, though. You’d even gone out to grab takeout with him for dinner, once, and yelling about all the problems in the car was really cathartic and you came back refreshed and relaxed, for once (only for every muscle in your back to clench at once because an actor bumped the prop table in their hurry to get in costume and one of the glasses fell over).

But it was Opening Night, and you were wound tighter than a spring waiting for everything to go wrong.

And it did.

Jihoon was in the hallway behind the stage, giving Joshua a few final notes about his big solo, and he didn’t check his surroundings closely enough. In his wild gesturing to demonstrate the level of enthusiasm, his arm clipped the typewriter.

And it fell.

He stared at it. Joshua stared at it. You could not tear your eyes from it.

The keys had tilted out of alignment. The bar holding the paper was skewed. The decorative paneling to one side had cracked down the middle. You didn’t have time to fix it before it went on. Maybe you couldn’t fix it at all.

“I am so sorry--” Jihoon started, but you stopped him with a hand, balling the other into a fist.

“Don’t,” you forced through your teeth, because you didn’t want to start yelling at him; it was an honest mistake and it was your fault for not resettling it on the desk after the last run. You were just seething with rage, at yourself, at the typewriter--you didn’t want to project it.

“Ten minutes to go!” someone yelled down the hall. You forced yourself to exhale, gingerly picking it up, flinching with every shift of the keys.

“Is there anything I can--”

“Get to the booth. Tell Seungcheol what happened, just-- be in your place. Jun!” you yelled into the tech room. His head jerked up. “I need you to take over headset for me, can you do that?”

His mouth fell open seeing the typewriter and he nodded, wordlessly, leaping to his feet and hurrying backstage.

Jihoon still stood there, looking between the typewriter and you with an anguished expression. “You’re sure you don’t--”

“I got it,” you said again, clipped. “I can handle it. I can-- just get to the booth, Jihoon!”

You hadn’t yelled. You knew enough not to yell when the audience was already in their seats. But your words had the same effect, because he flinched, and he nodded, and he turned the other way and ran.

Your rage was turning inward as fast as it was dulling, but you had a show to put on, so you placed the broken typewriter carefully on a counter in the tech room and sprinted for the basement.

You managed to get the 1970s typewriter back upstairs and on the desk before it went on, and the show went on without a hitch. The actors hit their marks, all the props found their way back to the prop table, and the pit orchestra didn’t have to loop a section for a missed cue even once.

You waited until everyone was gone before you let yourself cry.

“I really am sorry.”

You looked up.

Jihoon stood in the doorway, twisting his hands.

“It’s fine,” you said. “It’s partially my fault for not making sure it was centered right.” You rubbed your eyes with the palms of your hands, hoping to disguise the redness. “I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“It’s okay,” he said. “Do you want help?”

“I don’t know if it can even be fixed,” you said, staring blankly at the remains of the typewriter in front of you. “It might-- it might be beyond my help.”

For a long moment, you stared at it, mind spiralling.

You pushed yourself up. “They’ll want to lock up.” You slung your backpack over your shoulders. “I’ll just come in before the show and work on it. Maybe get Jun to grab me some McDonald’s or something and eat during the intermission.”

Jihoon’s brow furrowed. “That’s not healthy.”

“I’ve done it before.” You waved him off. “The show must go on, you know?” You slung your backpack over your shoulders. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

The day came by in flashes as you researched the typewriter with a renewed vigor. You could probably use hot glue and some kind of putty to hide the crack in the paneling, you could probably put the keys back or at the very least tape them to look like they were back, from a distance. The bar at the top would be much harder but you hadn’t really inspected it the night before so maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as you thought it was?

You didn’t feel particularly hopeful when you stopped by the tech room to pick up the typewriter.

Until you saw the typewriter.

“What the fuck.” It was fixed. The keys aligned, the crack sealed, the bar sitting on top just as it was supposed to be. It looked exactly like it had when you’d first set it on that desk.

Jihoon came around the corner, dried putty staining his hands. “Hey,” he said, seeming tired but absolutely beaming at you.

“Did you do this?”

He shrugged. “Yeah. I didn’t want you putting your health on the line.”

“Oh my god, thank you. I can’t-- this is incredible!” You kept tracing your fingers over the ridge formed by the sealed crack, but you couldn’t see it.

“I did a good job, then?” He put his hands in his pockets, grinning.

“Better than good, oh my god I could kiss you!”

Your cheeks burned when you realized what you’d said, but he laughed. “Whoa, buy me dinner first.”

“Bet,” you said, accepting it like a challenge. “You pick the place, I’ll pay.”

“Okay,” he said, and then lifted his hands. “I gotta wash up.”

“Meet you by the front door in five?”

“It’s a date.”

[sunflowers-n-rocknroll]

Do I Wanna Know?

Pairing: Jensen x latina!reader

Warnings: angst

Word Count: 1,988

A/N: This was written for @anaelsbrunette​ Yas’s POC Reader Challenge. This was based on the song Do I Wanna Know? by Arctic Monkeys. I’ve never written POC reader before so hope you like it. ;)

“Everybody welcome Jensen Ackles to the stage!” The applause and cheering were so loud you winced. Jensen Ackles stood on the stage looking as if he owned it with a leather jacket and some dark jeans. You couldn’t lie he was good looking, but good looking boys were the ones that always knew how to break your heart in the worst ways.

You sighed once again wondering why you had agreed to come to work again. The place was small but packed. Apparently, it was some sort of VIP event and only those with enough money could pay to attend. But not you. You weren’t here to enjoy some guy in a leather jacket and guitar sing you were here to work at the bar and that was it.

People coming and going ordering a million different drinks was slowly driving you insane. You hoped this would be over soon. Someone like Jensen Ackles was probably busy and didn’t even have a moment to breathe.  

Song after song you handed out drinks and refrained from lashing out at the rude people. You needed the job.

“Thanks, everybody for coming out tonight, said Jensen. “I’ll be playing one last song tonight.” 

“Oh, gracias a Dios,” you breathed out a sigh of relief and your friend smirked over at you. 

“Have you got color in your cheeks?

Do you ever get that fear that you can't shift the type

That sticks around like summat in your teeth?

Are there some aces up your sleeve?

Have you no idea that you're in deep?

I've dreamt about you nearly every night this week

How many secrets can you keep?

'Cause there's this tune I found

That makes me think of you somehow and I play it on repeat

Until I fall asleep, spillin' drinks on my settee…”

The women were going wild and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. He was just a human, a human with an incredible voice and an equally attractive body. Sure you enjoyed music, but you knew this type of celebrities, they thought they were like gods.  

By the time the song was over, you were ready to go home and sleep preferably forever. The crowd started to diminish and you began cleaning up. 

“Oh my god! Did you see Jensen Ackles he was so hot,” your friend was basically jumping up and down. You were waiting for that comment all night and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. 

“Cristina you fall in love with basically everybody.”

“I do not,” she gasped.

“What about that boy at the coffee shop yesterday? Or that guy that opened that door for you at the supermarket? Or that girl-”

“Ok ok fine I get it,” she held her hands up in surrender. “But you can’t deny it.”

“Cristina, there is nothing special about him. Sure he can sing, ¿y que? So what? I know about a dozen other people who can do that.”

“I’m sorry to interrupt,” said a voice behind you and you turned only to find Jensen Ackles sitting at the bar. “But uh can I get a whiskey?” 

You cleared your throat your face burning. “Uh yeah.” turning to grab a bottle you glared at your friend. “¿Cuánto tiempo ha estado allí?” 

“Since you started talking,” she whispered.

You turned around placing a coaster and glass in front of Jensen Ackles. You tried not to look at him as you poured whiskey into his glass but you felt his gaze on you. Some guys came by saying goodbye to Jensen and making plans for the week. Not that you were eavesdropping but they were right there. 

“It’s close to midnight and my sister is coming to pick me up, you need a ride?”

“No it’s fine I’ll be closing anyway. I’ll get a cab.” She nodded before hugging you and grabbing her things. 

You realized Jensen was still at the bar and you hoped he would leave already so you could go home. He stood placing some money at the bar before leaving. Ten minutes later you were making your way outside.

“Hey,” you turned. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you.” Jensen was standing there with his hands raised as if you would’ve tried to hit him. And you would have.

“Well, you did.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, you said that.”

“I thought you might need a ride.”

“I don’t.”

“Look it’s almost midnight-”

“I am not  sleeping with you.”

“What- no I am not-”

“Listen, pretty boy, I don’t need a ride from you. And I am not going to your place,” you slung your bag over your shoulder before turning around. 

“No, wait. I didn’t mean it like that. I was just offering a ride. Nothing else.”

“Why?”

“Because walking through the city in the middle of the night is dangerous.”

“And getting into some stranger’s car is not?” He looked down, one side of his mouth turning up. 

“Touche.”

You sighed knowing that you couldn’t deny his offer. “Ok fine.”

His head snapped up, “Wait really?”

“Just warning you, I will punch you if you try anything.” 

You gave him your address once in the car and waited for some comment about the area you lived in, but it never came. Surely someone like him had a nice house or apartment in the nicer part of the city. 

“Thanks for the ride,” you said.

“So there is nothing special about me?”

You winced, “You heard that?”

He chuckled, “I did.”

“Listen I’m sorry-”

“No no, I think that is a very fair opinion. But, I think you can make it up with a dinner.”

You opened your mouth then closed it not sure what to answer. He was asking you out?

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to I was just-”

“I uh I need to go,” he nodded and you got out of the car. Making your way to your door. You heard his car leave once you were inside. 

“He asked you out!” You and Cristina had a free period a decided to catch up on some homework outside. 

“Cristina stopped screaming. Yes, I already told you like a hundred times.”

“And you said no,” you stared at her. “Okay fine, fine.”

“And technically I didn’t answer.” 

“But it was Jensen Ackles!”

“Yeah, that’s why.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, he’s on his way to becoming some great musician. And I’m a bartender still in school. And still living with my mom. Nada va a suceder. It’s going to be a good date and then that’s it. On to the next thing he knows he can get.”

“Y/N,” she pointed behind you, and standing right there was Jensen Ackles. “I uh gotta go back to class,” she grabbed her things before taking off. Great.

“You uh left this in my car yesterday,” standing up you took your jacket from him.

“Thanks. How did you know I was here?”

“I asked around in the bar.”

“Right.”

No one said anything before you both started talking at the same time. 

“I also didn’t get your name last night.”

“How long have you been there.”

You glanced away, “I’m Y/N. Y/N Y/L/N” 

“Jensen.”

“I know.”

He cleared his throat, “Right.”

“Listen I didn’t mean to be rude with what I just said.”

“Most people want to be with me for the money and fame. I don’t care about any of that.”

“I’m not most people,” you said. “I also don’t care to have my heart broken.”

“One date. One chance. Just- let me show you I’m sincere.” 

“Why? You can literally have anybody you want.”

“But I don’t want anybody. I just- there is something about you that I can’t figure out about you and it’s driving me insane.”

“One chance,” you said.

You were nervous and you weren’t even on the date yet. Cristina had come over to try and calm you down but you were having second thoughts about saying yes. 

“Y/N, mirame, hey look at me. If things go sideways you call me and I’ll pick you up.”

You nodded the knot in your stomach twisting tighter. The doorbell rang and you took a deep breath. Jensen was standing there in a flannel and some jeans and you couldn’t deny he looked good.

“Uh te-te ves hermosa,” he stuttered.

You smiled, “How long did it take you to learn that?”

He looked down rubbing the back of his neck. “All afternoon?”

It was late by the time you came back home, your stomach hurting from laughing too much.

“Gracias, thank you, for the date,” you smiled up at him. He was so close that you could smell his cologne. 

“It was my pleasure.”

“I uh- I better go.”

He cleared his throat, “Yeah, I’ll text you.”

It went like that for a week, Jensen showing up and taking you some place, nothing fancy or expensive but somewhere you could be together. Sometimes he would take you to one of his concerts and even though you teased him about it you enjoyed being there. Everything was good maybe just too good and of course it had to end. 

Coming late home from the bar one night all you wanted to do was sleep, your mom was in the kitchen, phone in hand.

“Hey what’s going on?”

“It’s your abuela, está enferma.”

“She’s sick? Is she going to get better?”

Your mom shook her head, “We have to go back to Mexico.”

Two days later you found yourself packing your bags. You had given your notice at school and at the bar. Cristina had come to say goodbye and it hurt to leave her. You were putting your bags in the car when a familiar car pulled up. Jensen stepping out with a frown on his face. 

“Hey what’s going on?”

“My grandma is sick and we have to go back home. Back to Mexico”

“For how long?”

“No lo sé. Couple of days? Maybe weeks?”

“And you weren’t going to tell me?” He sounded incredulous and you wished this conversation had happened when you were miles away and not be able to see the hurt on his face. 

“Jensen-”

“Y/N you were going to leave for who knows how long and not tell me?”

“I was going to tell you.”

“When? When you were miles away?” He nodded, running a hand down his face. “No, you can’t do that just because you’re scared.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re scared Y/N! You’re scared about this, about what we have!”

“Jensen this was never going to last! This was nice, but we both know you weren’t going to end up with somebody like me and I am not going to end up with somebody like you. Lo siento. I have to go,” you turned getting in the car, trying not to look back. The better he accepted the truth the better it would be for you. By the time you were back in Mexico he would probably already have found somebody else. 

Jensen stood there not knowing what to say or do. She was leaving. She was leaving him. But she felt something for him. He hadn’t just imagined the past week. And it wasn’t just some simple crush that he felt, this went way deeper than that and he had to find out if she felt that same way for him. He saw your friend come out of the house by the time your car was pulling away.

“Cristina it’s Cristina right? Do you know where in Mexico Y/N is staying?” she nodded and he knew what he had to do because she had caught his eye in that bar even before he had ordered that drink. He couldn’t let her go. He had to know, even if the answer wasn’t what he wished for it to be, he had to know. 

TAGS: @akshi8278​

[simply-trash5]

PuppetBoy

Okay Kankuro simps, got some more juice for ya! Seriously this was so fun to write. It is a college AU about Kankuro and a reader. I am pretty proud of it. I would love to write some things for you so PLEASE request. Seriously. I’ll even try smut (I’ve never written it before so we’ll see how it goes). Drop them in the ask box and if you like what you read you should totally tell me because i am a self conscious bean.

What the hell is that noise? You think to yourself as you look around. It sounded terrible. Whatever car was making that noise was definitely on it’s last leg. You nod your head realizing it was the same guy you see everyday parked across from the education building at your college. You could hear loud metal playing from the speakers and the windows shaking as he pulled into the lot. He jumped out,slammed the door and gave the tire a swift kick. Wow he’s kinda cute. He stood almost 6 ft. tall and had on a black hoodie that hung lightly over his brown hair. His black jeans had rips in the knees and you could see he was wearing scuffed black DocMartens. You continued to follow him with your eyes as he passed you walking toward the theatre building. He had an eyebrow ring and gauges. Oh shit, I think he caught me staring. He looked at you, scoffed and kept walking toward the theatre building. Is he a theatre major? You wondered to yourself. Maybe he just has to take a fine art credit. Letting your thoughts wander you pulled the straps on your bookbag tighter and walked to your class in the education building. 

The class seemed to drag on forever, and you knew after that you had to go to your nannying job which would take up most of the evening. You wished that you didn’t have to have a job, but unfortunately scholarships didn’t cover all of your tuition. You grabbed your keys from your pocket and headed toward the parking lot. Climbing into your car you started the engine and began making your way to your job. You loved kids, so nannying was a great gig for you. When you arrived at the home of a doctor in your area you were greeted by a small boy with a large grin. “Ms. Y/N, can we go to the children’s theater today? Mom said we could go if it was okay with you, she even left my booster seat so you can drive!” You giggled and shrunk down to his height. “Well if your mom says it's okay, it's fine by me. Let’s grab your jacket and booster seat and we will leave.” The small child ran into the house. His mother approached you. “Thank you so much for watching Trevor,I know he is a handful but i'm rather fond of him.” You gave her a huge smile and told her that it was no problem and explained that you were going to take him to the children's theatre. She said her goodbyes and you walked into the house to retrieve the boys booster seat so that you all could make the 4:00 production of the Three Little Pigs. 

The little boy sitting in front of you on the floor giggled wildly as a wolf puppet “ran” off stage. You smiled down at him. The curtains closed and the crowd gave them a round of applause. The stage hands and puppeteers began to disassemble the set so that they could get ready for the next show when you saw a familiar face. It's car boy. You smiled in his direction, and didn’t realize you may have looked at him a little too long. “Hey, take a picture, it will last longer.” The mysterious boy gave you an annoyed look and a blush began to creep up your face. He was wearing a tight black tshirt that showed off his muscular arms and his tattoo of a sandtimer on his forearm. “Come on Trevor, lets head home,” you said steering the young boy out of the theatre.

“Oh my god what did you say back?” your friend was screeching on the other side of the phone. “Well, see, I just kinda left.” you explained not wanting to relive the embarrassing moment. “Y/N, you have got to do something tomorrow. You’re going to see him in the parking lot and you don’t want it to be weird.” You were twirling your hair around your finger staring at your phone. “Y/N are you still there?” You snapped back to reality, “yeah, I think I will buy him a cup of coffee. I’m sure he never sleeps like the rest of us. He is a college student.” You both finished your conversation and you got ready for bed. You set your alarm early so that you could go to a coffee shop and grab him a coffee to make up for the awkward run-ins you had the last few days. 

“God its early” you whined to yourself but got ready anyway. You had to make a better impression on puppet boy. You gathered your things and headed out the door and made your way to a local coffee shop. You grabbed your latte and then decided it was best to just give him black coffee. You drove to your college thinking about the handsome stranger all the way there. His brown hair was shaggy and fell right into his eyes, which you melted at the thought of his hair being pushed out of his face. Your mind started to drift to what your next move would be as you pulled into the parking lot. Okay, it's 7:45 he should be here any minute. Shit what should I do? In a moment of extreme confidence you grabbed a pen out of your backpack and messily scribbled your phone number on the side of the paper cup. God I hope this works. You took a deep breath and stepped out of the car. You could hear him coming for at least a mile. Alright Y/N you cannot chicken out now. He rolled in and slammed his car door as he had every morning for the earlier part of the semester. It's now or never, you've got this shit. You beelined toward his car. He realized you were approaching and looked at you with a strange face. You immediately got nervous. You just sat the coffee cup on the hood of his car, turned on your heel, and quickly walked to the education building. “HEY! HEY COME BACK!” You heard him calling after you as you continued on your way to class cursing yourself the entire time.

Buzz

You grabbed your phone from your pocket. An unknown number had sent you a text. “How do I know you didn’t drug this coffee so you can turn my corpse into a puppet?” you laughed at the text and a blush spread over your cheeks. “Now why would I do that?” you replied. You typed “Also that is oddly specific” “What can I say, I like puppets?” The conversation continued for the next few days. You saw him a few times on campus but you never spoke in person. He would send you funny memes and videos at all hours of the night. Apparently puppetboy is a night owl. “Um btw, we’ve been talking for days and I still don’t know your name. What should I call you.” “My name is Kankuro.” “Well Kankuro, my name is Y/N. Its nice to put a name with a face.”

Shit I’m never gonna finish this run. You thought to yourself as you continued to run on the treadmill. You had your headphones in and music blaring. You loved to run and hadn’t been to the gym in a few days due to all of your nannying obligations. Okay, only a half mile more to go, you thought to yourself as you pushed your body to keep running. Out of nowhere you felt a large calloused hand on your shoulder. You snapped your head “Hey listen creep I-” before you knew it you were falling only to be caught by Kankuro. “Y/N you falling for me already?” Kankuro flirted giving you a tight smirk. You were shocked, not only by the fall, but by the arms around you. They were strong and helped steady you with ease. He was wearing a dark grey tank top which showed his muscles and tattoo off wonderfully. His legs were muscular too and looked amazing in the black shorts he was wearing. In his other hand he had a pair of boxing gloves. You began to blush and he realized you were staring at him, imagining what he looked like under that tank top. Your hand crept up to your neck where you fiddled with your necklace. He gave you a small chuckle. “I’ve got to go spar with my buddy, but if you want to you can meet me out front in an hour.” You smiled and shook your head and he turned and walked away. The shorts hugged his bottom perfectly and the tank top showed his shoulder muscles. You could see another tattoo on his back. Was it puppet strings? You pursed your lips and began to blush. I would love to see those strings up close. 

The hour wait seemed like the longest hour of your life. You waited out in front of the gym as he came bounding out the door. He was sweating and his shaggy hair was sticking to his forehead. He walked over to his car and opened the door. It made a horrendous screech as it opened and you stifled a laugh. “Whats so funny princess? Just for that we gotta walk to get food.” You blushed. Did he just call me princess? Why was that so hot? “Come on, I’m starving,” he said and began walking down the sidewalk. You walked hurriedly to match his long strides. Damn my short legs. “So Kankuro, where are we going?” he gave you a crooked grin. “Its a surprise.” You giggled and retorted “well how do I know you’re not trying to get me alone and turn my corpse into a puppet?” He gave you a devilish grin, “Well sweetheart lets find out.” Another pet name. Your face turned bright red and you stared at the sidewalk. You approach a deli that you frequent with your friends. “I love this place,” you exclaimed. “Well don’t be weird and actually order some food. I like a girl with an appetite.” You laughed and smiled. You ordered your usual and he ordered grabbing your food and heading outside to a table. You both began eating and chatting casually about your lives. You found out he loves horror movies, especially ones that feature creepy dolls or puppets. You also learned that he has a lot of horror memorabilia in his apartment and that he rarely sleeps. He boxes to keep himself busy when hes not working as a children’s puppeteer. He is studying theatre with concentrations in stage management and special effects makeup. “Kankuro, thats really fucking cool,” you said and began to tell him about yourself. You were studying to be a teacher and nannying as a job to make money for college. You lived in an apartment around the corner from the deli with a friend. “So Kankuro I noticed the sand timer on your arm, do you have any other tattoos?” He gave you another devilish grin.”Yeah I have a back piece that is marionette strings. I’ve loved puppets since I was little so I thought it would be cool. Do you have any tattoos?” You blushed. You stood and pulled up your athletic top to show a tattoo of your family's crest on your hip. You had to pull your shorts down ever so slightly revealing your black lacy underwear. He looked at the tattoo and then back to your face. “Thats a nice one,” he said and rubbed the back of his neck. The conversation continued and you all talked more about your semester and your family. You laughed and told him about how you liked to run and also about how you thought it was cool he was a boxer. “Maybe one day we can spar angel,” he flashed a smile in your direction and you smiled back at the thought. You both got up from the table and threw your trash away. It was dark and cool. You pulled your jacked tighter around your shoulders. “I guess I am going to walk home and let you get back to the gym.” Kankuro shook his head “absolutely not doll, its dark and I’m walking you home.” You blushed. Another pet name, this boy is gonna be the death of me. 

You began walking toward your apartment and your hands brushed several times by accident. “Damn Y/N if you wanted to hold my hand that bad all you had to do was ask. I aim to please.” You blushed and then punched Kankuro. “Still want to spar?” you said cheekily. You both walked in silence but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It was as if you had known him your whole life. The comfort of him walking beside you felt so nice. “Well this is my apartment.” You sighed and reached for the door. 

BAM

The door slammed shut and you noticed a strong arm beside your face. Kankuro looked down at your lips and smirked. You began to blush. The tension was so thick. I swear im going to pass out. Your heart began racing as he leaned into you. Your back was pressed against the glass of the door with a strong arm beside your head. His other hand made its way to your tattooed hip, he drew circles over your ink with his calloused thumb. His hands were so large that you could feel his fingertips on your back. The heat rose to your cheeks. He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss against your lips. He pulled back, his hand still burning a hole into your hip bone. You opened your eyes to see a smirked Kankuro. You were in shock when he reached his other hand to brush a stray piece of hair out of your face. Your thoughts raced, you wanted nothing more to bring him up to your apartment and let him give you that devilish grin some more. 

“Guess I’m not a killer princess. Text me.” He chuckled, turned on his heel and walked back toward the gym. You watched him until he walked out of sight. You were ready to see him again and maybe see more of that back tattoo.

[tuffduff]

Life After You (Duff McKagan x Reader)

Pairing: angsty/fluffy Duff x Reader

Words: 4,733

A/N: Hey loves! This one actually isn’t a request, I was inspired by Taylor Swift’s “All Too Well” and actually didn’t intend for this to be so long, but it just came out. 

P A R T  T W O

Seattle had never been your home. You were not a born and raised native, never quite got used to the torrential downpours and overcast skies. In fact, you always waited for the day you would eventually move, figuring the setting to be just a minor stepping stone in your ultimate life story.

Until you met him.

It started in autumn, with falling leaves and brisk air. You had barely entered your twenties and the existential dread hadn’t yet set in; you were itching to find your niche and sense of belonging. Maybe that’s why you agreed to go with friends to some punk house to see a local band. The guys playing were interesting for lack of a better word, and you found yourself staring at the bassist. He was the tallest of the bunch with shaggy blonde hair and wandering eyes that kept finding their way back to you. You brushed it off though, thinking you were imagining it, until your friend leaned over and whispered, “the tall blonde one is checking you out.”

After the show, when the band began mingling with the small crowd, you wondered if he was going to come and introduce himself. That’s when someone hollered a warning for the cops and everyone scattered. You split out one of the backdoors, thankful that you lived just down the block.

“Hey! Wait up!” You slowed down in the alley, watching your breath in the air as the tall blonde ran to catch up to you. He had something in his hand; the scarf you had worn out and already forgotten about. It must have slipped off when you ran.

“Oh...thank you! You didn’t have to do that,” you replied, accepting the garment back. He shrugged a little, trying to keep eye contact but slightly faltering.

“I’ve never seen you around before.” He noted.

“Do you recognize every face around here?” You asked, unable to stop the smile from forming on your face. He smiled back.

“Only the pretty ones.” You weren’t expecting that. Nor the blush that crept to your cheeks. “I’d known if I had seen you before.”

“This is my first show. You were really great, by the way...?”

“Duff.” He replied, sticking his hand out. You took it with a smile.

“Y/N.”

“Do you live far?” He asked. For some reason, it wasn’t threatening. Some wall had already been broken from the beginning, when you both couldn’t stop staring.

“Down the block, thankfully. I should be able to make it home in about five minutes if I walk fast.” You replied.

“How about I walk you and we make it in 10?” He offered. You tilted your head.

“Why 10?”

“We’ll walk slow.”

That was exactly what happened. Ten minutes turned quickly to 15, and then 20, with the both of you talking outside your residence, both of you seemingly unwilling to let the night end. You were freezing beneath your coat but didn’t notice; Duff however was without a jacket and had his hands shoved into the pockets of his jeans.

“Can I see you again?” He asked bluntly. You smiled.

“You know where to find me.” He smiled back.

“Cool. Okay. Have a goodnight, Y/N—” he had turned to start walking away, but you had grabbed onto his shoulder to stop him. Gently, you draped the scarf around his neck.

“I think you need this more than I do. Take good care of it, you hear?” You told him with feigned seriousness. His returning smile was one you would never get out of your mind. Even to this day.

And so it went you discovered real love. Maybe with other people, they didn’t quite realize it at the time, but with Duff, you just knew. He was your first love, and with him came a new stage in your life. There was life before Duff and now life with Duff.

Back then, you had been blissfully unaware that there would be life after too.

Days quickly turned to a weeks. Months passed; holidays were celebrated in a new fashion, always together. Him not having quite enough money for a Christmas present, so he wrote you a song and gifted you a necklace that had once belonged to his grandmother. There were never any arguments, the both of you couldn’t get enough of each other. You figured, in the back of your head, that it was infatuation and it would wear off soon, but for those months, neither of you could get your fill.

Somehow a year had flown by and you found yourself back in autumn again, a year under your belts as a couple without possibly being able to imagine being more in love. And yet, you found new ways to fall in love with him just about every day. The two of you moved in together, Duff working at a bakery and you doing your best juggling school and working at a record shop, where Duff would spent his free time.

He had a broad assortment of family members and friends and you had taken a spot amongst them. They all knew you too, they were now your friends. Duff’s mom had you over every other weekend and would bake pies with you, telling stories of growing up during the depression and what Duff was like as a child. The charming youngest, always creative and eager to perform his duty as a man, trying his best to look after his mom. “He’ll always do his best at taking care of you and succeeding, but I’m just glad he’s found someone to take care of his heart.” She would tell you.

Duff knew he could make real money moving up at the bakery he was at. After-all, he was a hard worker and his bosses appreciated that, and really, it wasn’t bad work. But he always talked about music; the both of you would stay up at night staring at the darkened ceiling sharing your hopes, your dreams, your past, your futures. Sometimes the ceiling would grow light as you stayed up talking. Your fears would come into conversation too, but those moments were fleeting; you were both young and ambitious and fueled by love, what in this life couldn’t be accomplished when you had that?

He talked too, in disdain and grief, about the state of his hometown, of the dangerous heroin use spiraling out of control, vowing he would never turn out like them. He said he was ready to get out, like you had always said.

But then you were offered a chance of a lifetime, an internship at the local radio station for your journalism degree. You couldn’t leave now, but Duff was already decided. It left you both at a fork in the road.

“I would never stop you. You’re right. The only way you’re gonna know if you can make it is away from here. I’ll be right behind you; I’m sure I can easily find work in LA after my internship.” You put on a strong face and decided to be his rock. You had to take care of his heart. After all, your love was the strongest thing you had ever experienced. If you were meant to be, it always would and you had no doubts whatsoever, even if it meant time apart.

“I love you, Y/N. I’ll call you every day. You’ll have to visit when you have the chance, okay?” He took your scarf amongst the bare minimum of things packed away in his old car, and you waved goodbye with a smile and weird sense of displacement, but ultimately, you were hopeful.

Time somehow went faster and slower after he left. He did in fact call you every day, telling you about his new job working at the same restaurant with his brother. The shitty apartment he found and how he slept with cockroaches. “You wouldn’t last a day here, baby.” He teased you over the phone when you lamented your disgust. “Every night there’s helicopter lights outside my window. If you don’t hear from me tomorrow…” He kept your spirits high with his humor, even miles and miles away.

He told you all about meeting Slash and Steven, who were looking for a bass player for their band. He called you with a heavy heart often because he missed you, he called to hear your voice when he doubted himself. The excited phone calls were your favorite. His happiness was yours and it was beginning to sound like he might just have a chance in LA—not that you ever doubted it.

You answered every call at first, but as your semester went on, it got harder. Your phone calls grew scarce, but he still kept you updated. He mailed flowers to your house when you had your finals, somehow scrounging up money he had made from gigs with his new band, Guns ‘N Roses.

“The guys can’t wait to meet you, Y/N.” He told you over the phone and you would laugh listening to the group of guys yelling their hellos in the background. You had chatted with all of them at one point. They called you hotshot affectionately, impressed by the fact that you were actually obtaining a college degree.

Graduation came, but Duff didn’t. He had a gig the same night. But it wasn’t a big deal to you, his mom and sisters came. Duff called you as soon as the gig finished, and though you stayed on the phone for over an hour, you still cried yourself to sleep.

Aspiring for LA right out of the gates had been a naïve pipedream on your part. Duff had done it, but it was different for you. Turned out, it wasn’t the place where dreams came true, at least not for you. Work sent you across the country, all the way to Spartanburg, South Carolina, where you found work as a reporter.

“Someday when we’re actually making money, you won’t have to work anymore.” Duff would try to reassure you. To his credit, he helped you move despite his busy schedule that was only growing more demanding. “I’m gonna give you the life you deserve.”

“I don’t mind the work, if it weren’t here.” You told him, smiling. “Gotta get something out of this piece of paper though, right? I just…miss you.” You never knew missing someone could cause physically heartache.

“Believe me, babe, I miss you more. The guys are tired of hearing about it. But we’re gonna be together again soon, just wait. You can stick out here and you’re going to do amazing and soon, we’ll both be living in some nice place in LA.”

This was the point in your life where you were so busy you couldn’t keep your eyes open when you made it home at night. You had long hours, early hours, and it seemed your schedule and Duff’s schedule, or, lack thereof, never matched up. If he called, it was usually after midnight when you were sleeping. If you called back, it was early morning, when he was sleeping. Communication was exchanged more through voicemail than an actual call. You saved every one that he left you.

Guns N’ Roses gigs were now selling out all the local clubs. There was a record deal for his band, and then an album. You were climbing your own ladder too, and just when you finally had the opportunity to work out of LA for a promising up-and-coming music magazine, Duff was about to be taken away, on tour. You only had about a week together in LA when you made it. But what a week it was.

“Every day you weren’t here, I would wake up and the sun would be out and the first thing I would think is ‘Y/N is gonna love it here.’” He told you as you drove down Sunset Boulevard. He had an actual car now to his name and new clothes and you had never been attracted to him more in your life. The both of you spent at least a day marveling over one another’s new appearances.

“God, I can’t believe I get to call you mine. You just look different,” he told you while stopped at a stoplight. He couldn’t take his eyes away from you, traveling up and down in disbelief, shaking his head slightly. “How is it possible that you’ve gotten more beautiful?” His smiled, you told yourself to remember the moment, to take in the warm glow of the sun and crowds of people on the street, Guns N’ Roses on the radio as you drove, palm trees over your head. You were in bliss. At least, most of the time.

Love was just as you had remembered it. That reunited week was like heaven for your tired soul; you had grown used to an empty bed and now you still couldn’t catch up on sleep, the two of you wasting each night tangled in limbs and sheets, still unable to get enough of each other. He showed you his favorite parts of the Sunset nightlife, some of which you didn’t have the heart to tell him you disliked; the shady Mexican restaurant where patrons were getting blowjobs under the table, or the various clubs they had played and conquered, where bar-goers puked outside the doors and went back in for more.

The rest of Guns N’ Roses were as authentic as Duff and they were easy to appreciate and get along with. They never made you feel like an outsider, even when that was plainly obvious—you didn’t dress like the girls on the strip and you never let it bother you, you were simply being you and that was enough.

Though you and Duff still had endless conversation to share, you couldn’t help but notice a difference, one glaringly obvious one; he drank more than he ever had before. It would start with vodka out of the gates and never seemed to stop. You were the only one left to carry him home, sober and still living in the real world.

“Baby, maybe you should slow down on the drinking.” You tried to tell him before he left for tour.

“Hey—don’t worry about me, okay, beautiful?” He breezed off your words with a kiss goodbye and a smile. “Take care of yourself and don’t miss me too much.”

This time, time went even faster. The magazine was in high-demand and you had several assignments seemingly all at the same time, ever moment of every day. You even had the pleasure of covering Guns N’ Roses as they became one of the hottest bands in the world. It seemed everywhere you went, all you ever saw were guys dressed like Duff, or Duff’s face on the cover of a magazine. On MTV, sometimes the news. Now, everything felt surreal.

This is where things get blurry; you don’t spend too much time in this period of your memories. Why would you? The drunk phone calls. Lonely nights in LA. The nasty rumors. Any time you were reunited, all you could smell was liquor. To this day, the smell made your stomach drop.

“Duff, I’m serous. I’m not asking you anymore, I’m telling you; you drink too much.” You were forced to put your foot down during a rare time of being reunited.

“Y/N, ease up. It’s not that big of deal, that’s what we do.”

“Since when?” You questioned. “How many times did we talk about old friends back home, how many of them took it too far?”

“I’m not like them.” He snapped back. “I don’t depend on drinking, or coke, or anything—I’ve only done heroin one time!” This was the first of many times his addiction finally began cracking away at your heart. You couldn’t fathom that he didn’t see an issue in his words.

“Duff, you said you never would.”

“So what, it was one time, Y/N! It’s not like I’m addicted, get off my back.” No, these were not the conversations you spent your time thinking of.

It began a long battle in your relationship that you were both destined to lose, and also became an internal battle to yourself. Maybe you had it all wrong, after-all, it wasn’t as if you didn’t indulge in drinking every now and then too, the both of you were young, it was LA—what was the harm? You tried desperately to see it from his point, he was a Rockstar, he did have an image to maintain…but that never held up in your head rationally; this wasn’t your Duff. He didn’t give a fuck about an image. But was it your place to police him? Often times, you just felt like the lame girlfriend. You started keeping your mouth shut despite your growing alarm and aching heart.

Too quickly, it turned to recklessness, then even quicker to hopelessness. To the rest of the world, Guns was still the band that was gonna take over the 90s. They were on one of the longest rock tours in history, they had a double album out, but you knew better. They had already lost members; you had written the articles about Steven and then Izzy’s departures. You sometimes wondered at night if Duff would be next.

He hadn’t even been there to help you move into the new house the two of you bought together. It felt as empty as your relationship and you wondered why you stayed, only to have the question answered every time you looked back into his eyes. Would you ever not love this man?

“I’m gonna fix it, I swear. I just—there’s nothing I can do. Axl’s always late and so we just—we drink. And, I can’t help it, Y/N, you know those panic attacks I always used to get? It’s not like you’re with me anymore and I just get them all the fucking time. I can’t fly without drinking; it just sets me off. I can’t take all the shit, when we’re late to the stage all you can hear is the crowd getting angry...” you knew all about that; you had written an article about the Riverport Riot. At this point you were tired of writing about the latest of the controversial rumors and incidents.

It wasn’t as if his words didn’t break your heart. You were at a complete loss. Rationally, you knew he had a disease that you had to fight together, but it only resulted in the both of you screaming at each other. Duff wasn’t at a place where he wanted to change, that was what made it hard.

At first, you avoided the realization, you tried running from it. When friends asked, you always said your relationship was better than ever. But the worse his issues got, the more you were pushed to confront them. It was just drinking anymore, it was pills and cocaine and whatever else just happened to be in the room, whatever someone slipped him.

Ultimatums weren’t your thing; you were never going to beg someone to prove you were important. Plus, you had seen addictions cripple people. Duff was in its vice grip and had already slipped away from you, it was very obvious what you had to do. But how? How could you, he was your soulmate. This was still the boy who had walked you home that autumn night—he was all you knew. How do you unravel yourself from someone tied so intricately to every detail of your life?

You couldn’t tell him at first, you just packed up and left. You ran. It was a while before he called you, demanding to know what was going on. To date, it’s still your most humiliating phone call. It’s not a memory you revisit, ever, and you’re not sure if it’s because of the pain of it or the embarrassment—you had cried so hard you couldn’t work the next day.

For a while, you felt empty. Lost. You would cry at stoplights. You would cry at lunch, in the grocery store passing by his favorite chips. The radio was much too risky to ever bother with, if it wasn’t one of their songs coming through the speaker, it was his favorite Prince song, or a song tied to a memory.

The youth of your twenties faded that day and you were pushed into the next period of your life reluctantly, your steps sluggish and uncertain. It was autumn again, cozy months where people spent their time with loved ones. You spent it crying over the idea of Thanksgiving alone, unable to pull out any Christmas decorations or pretend to care about any semblance of a normal life; all of this was new again and still littered with the broken promises of something you thought you would never lose. How were you ever going to decorate a tree again when he wasn’t there to put you on top of his shoulders to place the star? Who was going to make snickerdoodle and gingerbread cookies by your side? His jackets and shirts made up half your wardrobe, his fingerprint on your life was almost entirely irreversible.

It wasn’t as though he gave up on you. Sometimes he would call. At first you always answered, frantic and hopeful.

“I stopped drinking,” he told you, but had a slurred speech.

“Then why are you drunk?” You questioned, already on the verge of tears.

“I’m not drunk,” he denied your words. “I haven’t drank vodka in a week.”

“Then what are you drinking?” You were aware of how stupid you sounded, playing along, but couldn’t stop the hope you felt.

“Wine. It’s not bad,” he insisted. “I stopped drinking for you, why aren’t you happy? Y/N…C’mon, please, I promise I’m better now, I just miss you—” You hung up. That night was a bad one.

Looking back, maybe there were more bad memories than good. It wasn’t as if you were unbiased. But maybe the good outweighed the bad by importance. Duff had shaped your life, the foundation of who you were. When you thought of love, you thought of him, and gave up the concept.

Now, just barely entering your thirties, you found yourself surprised to be back in Seattle. Maybe deep down you were still chasing after the best time of your life. It probably wasn’t healthy to let your mind wander backwards, but it did, every time you took certain roads. Sometimes you avoided them, but most of the time, you drove down the tree-lined roads, remembering when it had been the two of you. Back to a time when you thought you hated the rain and couldn’t wait to get out of it; now rain brought you peace.

Life was much more peaceful now. You worked as a freelance writer and genuinely enjoyed the topics you wrote about, thankful not to have to write another Guns N’ Roses article. It wasn’t like there was much to write about anyways in that category; there were rumors the band was on the brink of breaking up. It was still lonely, but the pain had subsided. You were okay with being alone and you were smart enough to fill your time with meaningful activities.

You never lost contact with Duff’s family. His mom finally stopped trying to apologize. You did your best not to consume your waking hours following the band, trying your best to force yourself into moving on entirely. Duff had released a solo album, and though your heart still swelled with pride, you couldn’t listen to it. There were rumors a lot of the songs were about you.

Nowadays, the reminders of him were scarce. He looked to be in rough shape, but you did your best not to let it bother you; that wasn’t your battle. You stopped crying and you had developed your own routine. Routine was important. Your house was decorated the way you wanted it and you had a dog, an affectionate brown Labrador. Now, you considered this place home and had favorite spots and local shops you spent time at, and yes, some of them were places the two of you had once frequented, but the reminder didn’t hurt anymore. The hurt was still there, if you pulled everything back and looked down within, but mainly, there was an appreciation for what once had been. At least, that’s what you told yourself.

It was clear that wasn’t the case when you left your favorite coffee shop one Sunday afternoon and spotted a familiar face across the parking lot. At first, you thought your eyes were deceiving you—his hair had been long for years. This man no longer looked puffy and fatigued like you had seen in pictures, he was leaner and had short spiky hair. More importantly though, his eyes were clear. That was when you were sure you must have been dreaming.

“Y/N?” He said, his voice unsteady, but somehow still sounded the same. Your coffee tumbled to the ground and he reached out too late. “Shit. Sorry, I...” he trailed off helplessly; you hadn’t even looked down at the spill once yet.

“Duff?” You asked, waiting for wake up from this weird dream. He stood a little bit back from you.

“You still come here, huh?” He asked after a moment, trying to smile. When you didn’t reply, he cleared his throat uncomfortably. “I heard you moved back. I didn’t really believe it at first, but I guess...I bought a house here too.” you didn’t reply still, no words could come out. He shoved his hands into his pockets and you could feel your eyes watering. “How have you been?”

“Good. Fine, yeah.” You replied quietly, somehow able to keep the moisture in your eyes. “I’m surprised your home and not on the road for your album.” Maybe you had paid more attention than you realized. He looked down.

“...Yeah. Um,” he chuckled uncomfortably. “I actually canceled a lot of the days earlier this year, I was exhausted. I thought maybe coming back home would be better for me...I...” he paused before he shook his head a little and let out a breath. “It’s been...a real eye opening few months.”

For a second, your heart pounded hopefully and you wondered desperately what that meant, before you told yourself to stop.

“To be honest, I’m in a hurry, so...I should probably get going.” Your tone was suddenly curt, sharp and brisk as the autumn air; the falling leaves behind you threatened to break your composed façade; it was all taking you back to a different time and you knew you needed to leave. Duff suddenly looked apologetic.

“Oh, yeah. Sorry, uh...” he shrugged. “Um...I just. I know you’re busy and everything, but...maybe, just...” every time he met your eyes, he looked away again. You bit your lip hard.

“Yeah, I don’t have a lot of free time nowadays. I’m sure you get it.” You forced out. He nodded, looking down and backing away from your car.

“...Yeah. Well...take care.” He ended lamely. The longer you looked, the more it was apparent his eyes were actually clear. “And I just…I hope you know I’m sorry.” You swallowed hard and turned away without another word to get into your car and seal yourself away. Inside, you could finally let yourself crumble, feeling the mixture of a pounding heart and butterflies quickly crumbling and falling in your stomach, your hands shaking as you tried to get the key into the ignition.

Realizing in panic maybe you had made a mistake, you quickly turned your head to find him again, but only caught a brief glance of him before he entered the shop, and that’s when it caught your eye.

The red fabric around his neck, nestled into the leather jacket he had on.

Your old scarf, still there, the lasting image of you on him.

You weren’t the only one struggling with accepting the loss of the only real thing you had ever felt in your life, but it wasn’t enough to move you from your car. So you sat, engine idling, until finally tears that had started as a stream turned to just a few stray drops. But it took you longer than 5 minutes, longer than 10, to finally drive away.

[timeaftertime-chriscornellfanfic]

Chapter 19 - She Gets Me Higher Than Anyone

Seattle Washington, March 14 1990

(Andi is 20, Chris is 25)

ANDI: Standing in front of our bed, a suitcase laying open with all my favorite pieces of clothing, I try as hard as I can to decide just what to take with me. I wish I could just take everything but that would be completely impractical. Soundgarden has a gig on the 17th in Brooklyn at L'Amours with Faith No More which is about a 2 day drive. I wasn't able to go with Chris the last few shows he's played with Faith No More so this will be the first experience for me with both bands.

"Baby, are you not ready yet?" Chris chuckles as he walks into our bedroom, in a plain black t-shirt and baggy black shorts, his curls well passed his shoulders. He playfully pats me on my ass as he walks over to the guitars that sat opposite of the bed.

"No, I can't decide what to bring," I say as I pick up a shirt, study it for a second and then toss it back down on the bed.

"Babe we're only going for the weekend, just take what you need," He says as he picks up a patch cord and wraps it up. I groan and he glances back at me chuckling. I exhale as a stray curl flutters up and falls back down across my eyes, then I just blindly reach for three random t-shirts, 2 pairs of jeans and a denim mini skirt. I fold them quickly and place them in my suitcase.

"You're not taking that are you?" Chris asks as I fold up my skirt. I slowly shoot him a look and laughs.

"Baby I'm just fuckin' with ya,"

"Yea you would," I smirk and set the skirt in the suitcase.

"Are you taking, one of these too?" He asks gesturing at my three most precious beautiful guitars that I own. The black '81 Gibson, The '59 Sun Burst and my new one, a 1990 silver sparkle Gretsch Duo Jet I got for my birthday - oh and the Martin acoustic, but I don't play that one as much. Chris and I both seem to have a thing for collecting guitars. I swear it started with the '59 Sun Burst that my dad got me and it just obviously grew from there.

"Um, yea the Gretsch," I say as I walk over to my dresser and grab my black leather bound journal.

"Good, I was hoping you would pick that one," He says as he picks it up off the stand and sets it gently in it's leather guitar case with the purple fur interior.

"Only cause you wanna play it," I giggle as I zip up the suitcase. He picks up the guitar with a few of the patch cords and shrugs.

"Can you blame me?" He asks as he walks towards me.

"No," I giggle and he places a kiss on my lips, lingering for just a moment and then pulling away. I reach up placing my hand on his cheek with slight stubble, and touch his lips with my thumb, feeling the whiskers from his faint moustache that is appearing.

"Don't even say it, I know... I need to shave," He says and I smile at him. I then lift myself up again and place another kiss on those soft lips of his, and I pull away as he walks towards the bedroom door.

"Yes you do," I say, though I'm actually really loving the stubble on his face and glance back at him for a moment. He just shakes his head at me and disappears out of the room to put the gear in the van. Once I have everything I need, I grab my suitcase and head out of our bedroom, into the kitchen and grab a piece of paper to leave a note for Xana and Andy. Mother Love bone had a gig last night in Tacoma and so Andy should be back later today. Hopefully Xana will be with him and that they're alright. They have been fighting so much lately.

Left for New York, Be back Tuesday

Don't do anything we wouldn't do Ha Ha,

Love you both...

Love, Chris and Andi

I rip the paper off the note pad and stick it to the fridge with a magnet, then run over and grab my leather jacket and slip it on.

"Babe, c'mon we gotta go," Chris says opening the front door again and peaking in.

"Ok, ok... I'm ready," I say untucking my dark curls from underneath my jacket. Chris steps in and takes my suitcase while I grab my keys out of my pocket. He then disappears out the door and I follow, locking the door behind us.

*****

Brooklyn New York, March 16 1990

ANDI: We arrived in Brooklyn making record time. Chris is a fucking speed demon behind the wheel when he needs to be. Scared me half to death though at some points but we made it. We  checked into the hotel around 6:00pm and Chris is supposed to meet the guys downstairs in the lobby for a quick check in and go over the set list for tomorrow night. 

"You sure it's alright for me to join you guys?" I ask as I finish pulling down my Black Sabbath shirt. It felt so good to take a shower after travelling in a van with 3 boys for almost 2 days - Jason decided to travel alone.

"Well yea... it's not like it's a secret meeting or anything. I just figured we could do this and then grab some food cause I'm fucking starving and then... head back up here... try out that bed... if you know what I mean," Chris says raising his eyebrow as he moves closer to me, brushing my curls off my shoulder, taking me in his arms and placing sweet kisses to the spot just under my earlobe.

"What if we just try out that bed... right now?" I ask as his lips make their way to my earlobe and my hands move straight to his leather belt, unbuckling it.

"Baby... not yet, I have to meet them downstairs," He chuckles low in my ear but he doesn't stop me from unbuttoning his shorts and pulling down the zipper.

"Not even for a quick one?" I ask innocently as I slowly reach inside the rim of his boxers and begin to palm him, giving him a few gentle but firm squeezes, his erection rising quickly, a moan escaping his throat.

"Holy... fuck," He groans and touches his forehead to mine.

"I think we should," I say seductively and that was all that was needed for him to lift me up and throw me down on the bed. 

We look into each others eyes with mutual determination and as I bite my bottom lip, I quickly but gracefully pull down my jeans and toss them aside. Without wasting any time, he lifts his black t-shirt up over his head, tossing it to the floor, moves over me, pulling down my red thong and playfully bites the top of my thigh, then my hip making me laugh as his curls tickle me at the same time.

"Fuck I love the sounds you make," He says as he tosses my thong somewhere in the room.

"Because of you," I exhale as his hands quickly grip my thighs, spreading them open, making me squeal at the aggressiveness of him. He places his lips to my inner thigh, gently moving up brushing across my skin, making me quiver beneath him.

"Chris, I said a qui - oh... shit," I exhale as his fingers spread me apart, his tongue flicking my clit instantly, my hands gripping the covers as he works his magic on me. His fingers play me, softly stroking all the while his tongue flicks, licking me like no other, then sucking, pulling the very essence right out of me.

"... Fuck..." I whimper, feeling that wonderful sensation of pure extasy building inside me. He then slips in one finger, then another inside me, prodding and stroking at the perfect spot and I knew it was over. 

"Shit, I'm gonna cum," I say quickly and out of breath, hearing him moan with encouragement and just like that, I let it go, releasing everything all over, feeling it pull me under and taking my breath away. It was fucking incredible.

Chris lifts his head up from between my thighs, dropping his pants faster than you could think of doing, and pulling me down to the edge of the bed while I squeal, then laugh in surprise. 

"You have no idea how much I love hearing you scream when I make you cum like that," He growls when he lifts my shirt up over my bare breasts, revealing my pink and incredibly hard nipples that are clearly begging for some attention. 

He positions himself perfectly, teasing my clit with the tip of his cock, then leans over me guiding himself inside me slowly at first as to not hurt me. The first push from him sends me over the edge, washing over me from the tops of my thighs all the way to the top of my head. It takes my breath away at just how fucking perfect he feels inside me. His lips brush across my chest, finding my right nipple, sucking and flicking the hard pink flesh there. After a few minutes he turns his attention to the left repeating the same process, my fingers entwining themselves through his dark tendrils as he thrusts into me over and over.

"Chris... you're gonna make me cum again," I pant.

He moans and breaks away from my nipple for just a moment and I drop my hands from his curls, raising them above my head as he watches my expression. His blue eyes study my every emotion that spreads across my face, my hips matching his rhythm, my back arching as my lips part, feeling the orgasm take over once more.

"Chris!" I cry.

"Oh fuck, yes fucking yes!"

*****

"I think you broke me," Chris says sitting on the bed, pulling his t-shirt down over his toned chest.

"I broke you? Fuck, I just wanted a quickie... you're the one who wanted to... y'know," I say, feeling my cheeks blush a little as I hop back into my jeans, my curls bouncing as I do so.

"What? Eat you?" He smirks slyly.

"Hey, don't say it like that," I glance at him with a giggle and he chuckles.

"Why? You know I love it. Especially when you start shaking like that..." He reaches for my hand and pulls me closer. "... and when I get you going so much to the point where you're like putty in my hands..."

"Chris," I say flatly trying to stop the tingling sensation that was returning to my core. I have to admit, he's fucking incredible at it.

"Well... I did say I was hungry," He smirks, and I playfully smack his chest while he laughs.

*****

L'Amours Brooklyn New York, March 17 1990

ANDI: "Is Mike like this all the time?" I ask Susan who was laughing as members of Faith No More bombard the stage while Soundgarden played, Mike Patton jumping on Chris as he sang.

"Pretty much... especially the last few shows they've played together," Susan says to me. 

Susan and I have become really good friends over the last little bit. I would even say that we're closer than Xana and I are at this point. I don't know what's going on with Xana and it frustrates me. Every time I try to mention anything to her she just becomes defensive and angry, blaming me for spending all my time with Chris and never having any time for her at all anymore when that isn't the case at all.

"Have you thought about what I said the other day?" Susan asks me.

"Uh... no, well yea but not really... I don't know," I fumble as she looks at me. Susan had asked me if I would like to work for her, handing the marketing side of Soundgarden and a New band that she just signed to manage, Alice In Chains. Susan is amazing at what she does for everyone and I feel honored that she considered me to work with her.

"Andi, I honestly think you would be perfect for it. I mean you have a marketing degree, and you're an artist too. You know exactly how to get the word out to the audience. You could handle the finances if you want or you can even design merchandise for them if you really wanted to," She says as the craziness of the music bellows from the side stage.

"Really?" I say and I glance back at Chris playing around with a deflated blow up doll that Mike threw at him and continues to scream that amazing voice of his into the microphone.

"Yea... I mean, it would allow you to travel with Chris more and you wouldn't have to work at that record shop anymore. You could put that degree of yours to good use," She says and I glance back at her trying to think of what to say.

"Look, I'm so happy that we are friends and I don't want to seem like you have to say yes just because we are. I just would really like it if we worked together. You're really good for him," She says and I couldn't help but wrap my arms around her in a hug. It feels so good for someone to say that. When I pull away from her we giggle and she pulls me back in for another quick hug.

Suddenly Mike comes running up to us with a crazy mask covering his entire face and starts blubbering crazy talk, teasing and waving his arms around. I turn around and playfully shove him away laughing and he runs off stage.

"... the fuck?" I say as Susan laughs.

"Told you they are pretty crazy," She says and we both laugh. I excuse myself for a moment as I have to use the washroom. I need to stop drinking so much before. I haven't even had a drink since Chris started and I have to pee again. I quickly run, making my way to the bathrooms that were just down the hall, not far from the stage and make my way inside, then just like that... I slip.

*****************************************************************************************************

[chnsfairy]

name please ? | han jisung

words ; 3,441

genre ; fluff, a bit of crack

requested ; yes, who prompt 1;iv ( @skzrequests )

warnings ; barista!reader, guitarist!jisung, like two curse words

a/n ; ok so i bent the prompt juST a lil bit but it has the same general idea and i think it turned out ok so i hope you enjoy it lovely !

m.list in bio

~

“you know y/n, one day you’re gonna have to learn how to make latte art properly,, (￣ ￣|||)” woojin complains before once again guiding your hand over the small mug which at this point is just a huge mess

“and on your own”

(￣ε￣＠) (￣ε￣＠) meanie

“you’ve been what ? working here for half a year and you still dont know how-” woojin tried to continue, but unfortunately for him, his attempt to teach you how to correctly use steamed milk has come to a crashing halt as a loud bang followed by groans was heard by the front door

you turned on your heel and headed towards the front of the counter,, trying to figure out what exactly caused the ruckus in the usually peaceful coffee shop

excluding your’s and woojin’s bickering in the back

“uhhhh excuse me ???” you ask,, carefully peering over to the giant mess that was now on the floor

“you ok sir ?” (・人・)

sprawl across the floor, carrying a guitar case, it seemed as if the stranger misinterpreted both the speed he was entering the door at and the size of the case,, cause it seemed he got caught at the door ahfjksadhfkjsa poor kid (｡╯︵╰｡)

he came dressed in some simple ripped light jeans, white t-shirt, and light jacket, plus his fluffy brown hair messily laying atop his head as if he just got out of bed

i mean who knows maybe he did

yes he did

“aH ! im um,, so sorry im late....”

after finally collecting himself the stranger stood up and picked up his guitar case,, pink tinting his face from embarrassment and like...you know... he kinda cute (*/ω＼)

no tea no shade

especially when he started messing with his already messy hair yeah there was no use trying to fix that mess but uWU LOOK AT HIS CHEEKS AND SPARKLY BROWN EYES AHHH !!!! (/▽＼*)｡o○♡

woah woah there cool in y/n he just walked in

it’s not your fault he just happens to be absolutely adorable

but maybe it would be best to stop staring at him,,,, 

when the boy started walking towards the counter you found yourself quickly shuffling behind woojin, who was now confused, as you pushed him up front to handle with the newcomer,,  

CAUsE SORRY BUT THERE WAS NO WAY YOU WERE GOING TO BE GETTING THROUGH A FULL CONVERSATION WITHOUT MAKING A FOOL OF YOURSELF SO WHY DONT WE STOP THAT POSSIBILITY NOW

“hi so i was hired a couple days ago to play a few nights a week ?? this is the right place yeah ? im sure i got the address right....if n-”

woojin interrupted his ramblings before he could continue any further,, bless him

“ oh !! so thats who the boss was talking about !! yeah let me just head back to make eveything’s in order, um y/n can you get him a drink or something ?”

walking away from you he left you completely exposed,, giving the other boy across from you an awkward laugh you grabbed woojin’s shirt quickly to stop him from leaving

“woojin you didnt tell me we were getting a new guitarist !!” you whispered harshly

“ᵒʳ ᵃ ᶜᵘᵗᵉ ᵒⁿᵉ”

“well sorry i didnt think it was important ¯\_(ツ)_/¯”

“does our friendship mean nothing to you”

woojin laughs quietly as he walks through the the door leaving you alone with the cafe’s new guitarist who just so happens to be looking like a whole ass model

“so um,, ” you started nervously,, mAN who thought this one person you make you so fLUSTERED JHASKKSAFKL

“want anything to drink ?”

after staring at menu up on the wall for a couple seconds the guitarist gave you a small smile JHFJKAGJISFIJEHUIGH before nodding his head

“sure can i have an iced latte ?”

out of habit you immediately asked “name please ?”

“oh you know... just your friendly neighborhood squirrel”

(・・ ) ? (・・ ) ? (・・ ) ?

you eyed the boy who was now leaning up against the counter smiling to himself

“i- oh come on wh-”

“thats the name,, you better write it down”

sighing to yourself you carefully wrote it down,, not necessarily sure if you even need to but who cares

as the musician pulled out his wallet to pay you put up your hand to stop him

cause no way you were letting this cute boy pay for his drink

plus he’s an employee as well

“it’s on the house”

“no please let me pay for it ( `ε´ )”

“nope”

so without anyone else there to help, you stepped away from the register and started prepare this strange guitarist’s drink

quietly laughing to yourself as you do so

moments later woojin walks back through the door and out from behind the counter and motions for mystery boy to follow him towards the small stage the cafe had

it was small and shoved into a corner, all wooden as most of the cafe was and it was covered with many different plants and decorated with fairy lights

vv aesthetic if you do say so yourself

then in the center of it was a stool and microphone for performer to set up with and use when they were performing

a couple months ago you had a band play here on friday’s so you had some other equipment in the back but it seemed unnecessary for a simple acoustic guitar 

you watched as the boy looked at the fairy lights and the actually quiet beautiful set up in awe

the musician started to unpack his guitar case as you finished off his drink and started walking towards the stage where woojin was showing him where everything was

“you know now that i really think about it ‘squirrel’ kinda suits you”

the sparkly eyed boy laughed as you handed him his drink,, unknowing of what you should say you ended up standing there awkwardly for a few seconds before  realizing there was another customer back at the register

“ah- i should,, probably go” you said jabbing your thumb towards the counter before awkwardly heading back

what was tHAT AHHH !! STOP BEING SO WEIRD Y/N OK

ITS REALLY NOT YOUR FAULT HIS HAIR JUST LOOKS PERFECT AND HIS EYES ARE BRIGHT AND HIS SMILES CUTE AND OK TIME TO STOP NOPE NOPE NOPE

you dont even know his name....(｡•́︿•̀｡) (｡•́︿•̀｡) (｡•́︿•̀｡)

lil thot wont give it to you

but thats ok

if he wants to play it like this then thats fINE

you can deal with that

hopefully....

by the time you had finished helping out the other customer you started to hear the sweet sound of an acoustic guitar being played throughout the coffee shop

“you know he’s not half bad,,,”

woojin had returned from helping the musician get settled and soon found his regular spot on a stool in the corner

“yeah,, he’s pretty good isn’t he”

and then a few minutes later you found yourself completely absorbed in the brunette’s angelic voice filling the shop, his guitar only making it even more beautiful

your staring was soon interrupted by woojin pushing you off to the side so he could help a lady who had walked in about a minute ago,, which you hadn’t realized (＞﹏＜) oops

“y/n would you like to go take your break ?”

(´♡‿♡`)  (´♡‿♡`)  (´♡‿♡`)

!!!!!

“ can i ???”

woojin motioned you to go once again,, and as you were already so distracted it wouldn’t have made much of a difference

you found yourself sitting at an empty table in the corner,, you’ve heard some other guitarists perform many times in your life but this one takes the cake

you’re not too sure what it is about him but,,, he just looked and sounded so sincere with every word he sang ??? the guitar and him looked like they were a single creature,, knowing exactly how to work as one

it was just really beautiful

he was playing a cover of a song you’ve heard a few times before called ‘better days’ by jaie,, he also seemed to have ended up adding some extra elements to fit his voice better and overall it made an incredible impact

almost everyone else in the cafe had their eyes on the musician singing up front who looked so immersed in his music there would’ve been no time for stage fright

“i’ve had my better days, and you’ve had your better days too” he sang quietly

soon after the song had ended there was a light applause from the customers in the coffee shop,, including you who soon.... realized that you need a paycheck....

yeah ok the cute boy is gonna have to wait we gotta get that bread kids

(╥_╥) (╥_╥)

after making the short walk back to your position behind the counter where woojin found his spot once again on his stool until he had to go make up some drinks you started to hear an acoustic version of million dollar man by lana del rey flow through the cafe

it was simple and elegant and you felt kinda sad you couldnt sit and watch :(((((

there was only a couple hours left before you had to close up so you guess it wasnt that bad,, at least you got to listen to some pretty music during the normally slow and quiet closing shift

honestly at this rate you might fall asleep if the guitarist kept the atmosphere this peaceful,, i mean you weren’t complaining bUT THAT PROBABLY WOULDN’T LOOK GOOD TO THE BOSS

so instead you ended up reading for the most of the time until all the customers had all left and woojin had begun wiping down tables and sweeping floors as mystery boy packed up his guitar and papers

then after you finished cleaning up the counter and throwing all the trash out back you collected your own belongings and changed back into your own plain jeans and sweatshirt before clocking out for the day

as you headed back towards the front you saw woojin talking to the unnamed guitarist and waved at the pair before finally walking out the door and into the early spring air

“bye jinnie !! i’ll see you tomorrow !”

nodding his head woojin continued to chat with the brunette as you started heading down the block and towards your apartment

man,,, why did he have to be so cute ??! >:((((

its not fAIR HE DIDNT EVEN TELL YOU HIS NAME HES MEANNN

(ノ_<、) you’ll have to get it from him tomorrow

aAAH even if it’s the last thing you have to do

ok so maybe you went to sleep thinking about the sparkly eyed boy who played beautiful guitar and had an aMAZING voice but like ajdhjsahd who wouldn’t

the next day was mainly the same,,, you had your regulars and a few newcomers who just so happened to be in the neighborhood and stopped in for a drink

and of course the guitarist walked back into the shop a little after 4,, this time slightly more put together 

his hair was styled a bit and looked even better but how the fuck is that possible,, today he was also wearing a leather jacket over a yellow hoodie and black jeans

although you hadn’t realized he’d come in yet ahjksfhasdjk

but when you finally looked up you were pleasantly surprised

but jeSUS HI YOU’VE SEEN WHAT AN ANGEL LOOKS LIKE BYE YOU CAN GO TO HELL NOW YEET 

“what are you a ninja ? ”

“yes y/n,, i am in fact a ninja ”

“hEY WHY DO YOU KNOW MY NAME >:CCCCCC”

its nOT FAIR hE JUST- HNGGG

“it’s on your name tag”

“oh yeah”

you slightly pouted at the boy in front of you who had become slightly amused by your reaction,, you were cute uwu

“and what would you like today ?” you proceeded as you tried to keep the conversation going

“hmm how about a cappuccino”

he responded after a couple of seconds

“nO i cANT DO THE FANCY ART THINGYYY (╥﹏╥)”

you sighed once again before talking out a paper cup sharpie in hand

“and name ?”

"you said it yourself,,, im a ninja”

you laughed again before rolling your eyes as you scribbled down ‘ninja’ on the cup

“you’re funny you know that ?”

the male shrugged his shoulders and picked up his guitar case once again

“actually no beCAUSE MY JOKES ARE NEVER APPRECIATED” 

he then laughs hysterically before heading back towards the lit stage,, leaving you puzzled

“heY uM woojin ????” you needed to find that man to help do the steamed milk,,, or maybe the whole drink all together

luckily he just came back from his break when you shoved the paper cup into his hands

“ninja ?”

“dont ask. pretty art. make. plEASE ? (ಥ﹏ಥ)” you had started tugging on your friends sleeve because you just really didnt want to give a cute boy a cappuccino without pretty art on it :(((

“fine fine fine,, but this is the LAST time,,, im teaching you this weekend i swear...”

“woojin i loveeeee youuuu” (´ ε ` )♡

“(￢_￢) i know”

minutes later after the musician had gotten set up and with his pretty decorated cappuccino the sweet sound of his voice and guitar filled the air,, having all other customers in the room turn their heads to find exactly where it was coming from

especially as he started doing a cover of instagram by dean,, which was yA KNOW AMAZING

he continued to play for a couple hours until you had to close up,, although every so often he ended up glancing your way,, to find that you were also watching he quickly turned away as he felt his face heat up (⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄) 

lucky you,, he didnt see you freak out at the exact same time

and thats basically how it went every day for a while

the still unnamed guitarist would walk in some time after 4, ordered a drink and then played for a couple hours before it was time to close up

nothing out of the ordinary

i mean maybe nOT GIVING HIS NAME 

CAUSE GODDAMNIT YOU’RE GETTING ANNOYED BY ALWAYS WRITING SOME RANDOM NAME ON HIS CUP

HE CUTE OK YOU WANNA KNOW HIS NAME AHHHH

oh why dont you ask, you question ????

YOU’VE TRIED

“ok real name this time”

“y/n i’ve already told you”

ψ( ` ∇ ´ )ψ ψ( ` ∇ ´ )ψ ψ( ` ∇ ´ )ψ NO

“well tell me again”

“yeah i decided that it changed today”

sighing you completely gave up on this argument and motioned back to the sharpie in your hand 

“kermit the frog.” he said before crossing his arms in a fake pout

“fuck you i love kermit the frog”

“oh i didn’t know you loved me”

((╬◣﹏◢)) aAHHHH NDHFJKJK WHY CANT HE JUST LEAVE YOUR HEART ALONE ALREADY HUH

“nO I- HNGG T^T ....φ(・∀・*)”

you once again angrily scribbled down this boys fake name,, damn you just wanted to knoW AHHH !!! (╥﹏╥)

those were days where five minute arguments were involved with the name picking yet there were others that lasted only 30 seconds

“ __〆(￣ー￣ ) and name please ?”

“ironman”

“yeah no im just leaving this here today”

so after a couple weeks it was just a thing between the two of you

it was your bit per-say

ok maybe you have a tiny crush on the guy but like ???? who wouldn’t ???? he’s just AHhfhasjkf 

words cant properly explain it

the two of you clicked almost immediately and you dont feel as if it would be completely wrong to call him a friend

except most friends know each other’s name...so there’s that bit to work out

iF HE WOULD JUST GIVE IT TO YOU

so after a month of random names on paper cups you had a mission today to get this cute boy’s name on his drink today >:(

“ok please please please please please please your name????” 

he gave you another one of his bright smiles before simply saying “han”

(￣_￣)・・・ “han what?”

“just han”

(¯ . ¯٥) the lil liar

you know it’s a last name you’re nOT STUPID

“it’s my stage name”

“＼＼٩(๑`^´๑)۶／／ WELL THAT DOESN’T COUNT”

“TOO BAD Y/N”

you pouted once again at your failed attempt to get his real name,,, the meanie,,, why does he tease you like this >:ccc

but you gotta get paid so you grumpily write down his stage name on the cup as he walked over to the stage

“get his name yet ?” woojin comes up from behind you as you hand him the cup

“no :((( bUT why cant you tell me ????”

“i’ve been sworn to secrecy”

“wHY IS KEEPING A NAME A SECRET” you argue as you watch woojin prepare the drink

“because he finds you cute when you get flustered like this”

“bECAUSE IT’S JUST A NAME LIKE- wait what (・・ ) ”

“oops that was another secret soRRy”

you turned back around and grabbed your friends shoulders and shook him probably a bit too violently

“WOOJIN YOU DONT KEEP THINGS LIKE THIS FROM YOUR BEST FRIEND OK WE HAVE A PACT”

“what pact ?????”

“it was an unspoken pact.”

“thEN HOW AM I- you know what never mind i shouldn’t question your insanity” he waved you off so he could finish making ‘han’s drink leaving you both flustered and confused behind the counter as his guitar soon started filling the empty sounding coffee shop

about two hours later there only remained a few other people left so you decided to take your break for the evening as by now there probably wouldnt be much to do

soon a new song had started playing throughout the cafe and your head turned to see the guitarist giving you a shy smile

it was one you had never heard before so the gentle acoustic guitar and han’s comforting voice drew you back towards one of the shop’s tables where you then sat until all other customers ended up leaving

as the two of you were completely unaware of woojin cleaning up the shop, han continued playing and you continued listening to the mystery song before woojin shouted from the back room, forcing you to break eye contact and awkwardly smile at the guitarist

“y/n im clocking you out ok ?!” 

“ ok !!” you shouted back before once again turning towards han who was now packing up his case

“what was that last song?”

he muscician scratched the back of his neck before laughing sightly

“uhh it was an original although i haven’t actually titled it yet,, i just wanted to test it out”

“oh wow !! well it was really good, you have my approval ☆⌒(≧▽° )”

“woah really ? thank you that mean a lot...”

(・人・) (・人・) (・人・)

ok woojin it would be great if you could just walk in here and break the awkward silence by now hnNG

“jisung”

∑(O_O;)

“sorry what ??”

“han jisung,,, thats my name”

(O.O)(O.O)

“i think you deserve it by now”

Σ(°ロ°) Σ(°ロ°) Σ(°ロ°)

“aWE A CUTE NAME FOR A CUTE BOY LOOK-”

oh shit (o_O)

well you certainly did not mean to say that out loud

“oops sorry heheheheh”

jisung was GONE

this barista who he had been secretly pining over for a month just called him cute all his insides are just HJSADHKJAKDSA

help the poor boy

his stomach is doing flips as we speak

i mean he couldn’t just leave it as is 

cOME ON WHERE’S YOUR CONFIDENCE  ヾ(。＞＜)シ

“so um,, does that mean i can take you out to coffee sometime ?”

(;;;*_*) (;;;*_*)

“although unless you dont want to-”

“yes.”

“i get that like you kinda just learned my name”

“yes.”

“not too sure why that was kept a secret so long but- what?”

“jisung 1. ahhh cute name, 2. yes, i’d love to (／。＼)”

jisung gave you another one of his adorable bright smiles that felt as if it could light up a whole room,, which is did as always,, although this time he looked almost even happier

and for once you went to sleep without racking your brain for ideas as to what his name could be

-

bonus ;

“although if you give them something other than your name i will leave”

“y/n” 

“like did me saying ‘name please ?’ cause you to freak out or something ?? honestly i’m very curious”

“wELL when it just so happens to be someone looking very cute...yes i did,,,,”

“aWWEEE JISUNG” 

[silverarmedassassin]

Day Six: A Christmas Date

Pairing: Bucky x Reader (College AU) Word Count: 4269 - sorry this one kind of got away from me whoops Summary: Bucky is desperate to find a date for his fraternity's Christmas party. You happen to stumble into the conversation at the wrong time. Or is it? 

A/N: And we’re back! I’ve had a really rough past couple of days and couldn’t get any writing done, so I’m going to be playing catch up for the next few days. I hope to have days 7, 8 and 9 all out by tomorrow evening, but we’ll see. I have tomorrow off so I’ll have plenty of time to write and edit what I already have written! Enjoy! 

2019 Christmas Masterlist 

“Come on Stevie. Peggy has to have at least one cute single friend she can hook me up with!”

Steve looks over the top of the espresso machine he’s working with and glares at Bucky. His best friend is currently sulking over his coffee at the pick-up counter as he complains about this week’s girl issues. “Buck, I’m working.”

“But Dot’s gonna be there with her new boyfriend! If I show up alone, I’m gonna look like a total loser!”

“You’re going to look like a loser no matter what you do,” your voice chimes in as you walk up next to Bucky at the counter. You smile at Steve as he starts to prepare your usual order, and Bucky grumbles into his coffee. “What’s this one crying about now?”

“His fraternity is hosting a Christmas party and he doesn’t have a date. Word is Dottie’s gonna be there and Bucky’s freaking out.”

“Ahh,” you hum as you lean on your elbows and look towards Bucky. “What happened to the girl - was it Misty? - that’s been hanging around the past few weeks?

He glares at you as he straightens up. “It was Mandy. And we wanted...different things.”

“Oh, so she wanted something serious and you just wanted to get your dick wet?”

Bucky nearly chokes on his coffee, and you’re sure you’re going to have to call an ambulance on Steve for how hard he’s laughing. You can’t help but chuckle yourself as he leans over the counter to fist bump you between his wheezing.

“You know Buck,” Steve says as he attempts to steady himself, “you should take Y/N!”

“What!?” you and Bucky exclaim at the same time. Bucky in a panic and you shocked that Steve would even drag you into the situation.

“Yea! She knows you’re a terrible date, and she can put up with your shit. Plus, there’d be no,” Steve wiggles his eyebrows then, “expectations at the end of the night. And she’s the only one in the group that’s single.”

You scoff and cross your arms. “What about Carol? She’s not seeing anyone.”

“Everyone knows Carol is gay. It’d be too unbelievable.” Steve shrugs his shoulders like his suggestion is the obvious answer.

Bucky was quiet throughout the entire exchange while he fought his own internal battle. On one hand, he’d been considering asking you to be his date. Not out of desperation, but because he truly wanted to spend time with you, show you off not just to Dot, but to everyone.

But on the other hand, the sensible, realistic hand, he knew you’d laugh in his face if he’d ask you. Not that you were cruel, it was just that your friendship hadn’t always been as carefree and easy as it was now. Plus, he didn’t want to use you of all people to rub in Dot’s face.

The party was in less than eight hours, however, and he was getting a little bit desperate. Maybe Steve bringing up the date could really save him.

Fuck it, Bucky thinks to himself, I’m just gonna ask her.

“Yea! Come on, Y/N, be my date!” He puts on his best pouty face and bats his ridiculously long eyelashes at you. “Pleeeeease? Can’t you pretend you don’t hate me for just one night? I’ll buy you your coffee for an entire week straight. Please!”

“Okay! Okay, okay, you’re making a scene,” you shush Bucky as his pleas grow louder, drawing the attention of those sitting closest to the counter. “I’ll go with you, just stop!”

Bucky stops pouting and gives you an exasperated look. “Wait, really? You’ll really go with me?” He tries not to let the excitement seep through his tone.

You shrug nonchalantly. “It’s been a while since I’ve been to a good party. Plus, I’m never going to pass up free alcohol.”

Bucky bites his lip in an attempt to hold back a smile, but his excitement is too much to contain. “Yes!” he says as he punches the air. “You don’t know how much you’re saving my ass, really I-”

He’s cut off when his phone starts to vibrate. Pulling it out of his pocket, he looks back to you and Steve. “Listen, I gotta run,” he says as he starts backing up towards the front door. “I’ll pick you up at your place at 5:30, okay?”

Before you can respond, Bucky is planting a chaste kiss to the side of your head and running out of the coffee shop. You sigh as you lean back and watch him through the shop’s windows.

“You know, if you could just keep it in his pants for more than a day, maybe he could find someone to commit it.”

Steve slides your drink over the counter towards you as his best friend disappears down the street towards campus. “Yea,” he says, turning his gaze on the back of your head. “But I think the girl he’s really interested in is too far out of reach for him.”

You turn and grab your coffee and shrug. “I better get going too. You have a job to do and I have a dress to go buy! Thanks, Stevie!”

You wave as you make your way towards the front door, and Steve just shakes his head. “They’re such idiots,” he says under his breath before turning his attention back to his work.

When 5:20 p.m. rolls around, you’re standing in front of the mirror in your room, twirling side to side so that you can examine your dark purple, crushed velvet dress. The skirt, as your roommate Natasha described it, is a nice flirty length, falling midthigh. Although not too revealing, the dress still revealed enough skin on top to be a little hazardous. With the neckline scooping to just above the valley of your breasts, and the back going down just as far, you felt

“Are you sure this is okay?” you ask as you examine your backside again.

Natasha, who is sprawled out on your bed, sighs and looks up from her chemistry textbook for the fifteenth time in as many minutes. “I told you, it’s perfect. You’re going to have every guy at that party begging on their knees for your attention.”

You make eye contact through the mirror but quickly avert your gaze. “Yeah, but what will Buc-”

“What will Bucky what?” Natasha interrupts you as she sits up fully. “It’s just Bucky. Since when does his opinion on what you do or wear matter?”

You bite your lip. She’s right, it is just Bucky. But that was the problem. You’re not sure when just Bucky started causing your stomach to do somersaults and your heart feel like it was going to explode in your chest.

It’s not like you hadn’t known Bucky for almost three years. It’s not like you had fallen for his devilishly handsome looks the moment he stepped foot into your freshman English class. Or his ridiculous charm when you accidentally ran into him in the dorm hallway one morning when you were running late for class. 

And it’s not like you’ve spent the last four years burying those feelings under every ounce of willpower you had. No, it’s just Bucky and his opinion doesn’t matter at all. 

Except it does.

A knock on your front door draws you from your thoughts and does nothing to calm the cage of butterflies that had been released in your tummy the second you’d agreed to go to this party.

Natasha jumps off the bed and out into the living room. “Coming!” she sing-songs as she makes her way to the front door. “What a gentleman, coming to meet the parents before he takes ya on a date.”

“Nat” you grumble as you grab your bag and phone from your dresser. With one final look in the mirror, you sigh and turn off the light. Here goes nothing.

As you emerge from the hall, Natasha has already ushered Bucky into the apartment. Your steps falter a little when you catch a glimpse of him. He’s wearing your favorite red Henley and dark jeans combo with his worn leather jacket thrown over the top.  

He catches your movement out of the corner of his eye and turns to look at you. A shy smile creeps across his face as he tunes whatever Natasha had been talking about with him out. She picks up on this, because she turns to look at you too.

“Oh goody!” she claps before pulling her phone from her back pocket. “Get together kids, I need to document this moment! It’s like you’re going to prom!”

“Nat,” you hiss as you make your way towards the door.

“Just one picture. We need to document the one and only time James Barnes has clean hair and looks like a right gentleman!”

One picture turns into five different staged photos, and before you know it Bucky is pulling at your arm to get you out the door. “I’m sorry Tasha, but we really have to go!”

“Be safe, kids! Use protection! I don’t any any grandbabies yet!!” Natasha calls after you, wheezing as she does so. You were going to kill her when you get home tonight.

You take a deep breath as Bucky pulls up in front of the massive fraternity house. The white colonial-style home, complete with columns and a beautiful front porch, was far too nice for a group of college-aged men to living, breaking and...doing god knows what.

“Nervous?” Bucky asks from the driver’s seat. He doesn’t dare rip his gaze from the line of cars in front of his.

“No,” you say far too quickly to be convincing. Why the hell were you so nervous?! “Are you?”

Bucky shrugs then and unbuckles his seatbelt. “First time seeing Dot since the breakup. It’s not my idea of a great party.” He turns to look at you then, a soft smile playing on his face. “But I’ve got a beautiful date to make me feel a little better.”

You roll your eyes and unbuckle your own belt. “Shut up,” you grumble as you shove the car door open. It’s like he knew exactly what to say to get under your skin and right to the butterflies.

Before you can even make it out of the car, Bucky is around to your side holding the door like the gentleman he isn’t. He sheepishly smiles when you give him a look and shrugs it off.

“Gotta make it look believable,” he says with a laugh.

As the two of you make your way to the front door, Bucky is stopped by a few of the guys. Fortunately, you know most of them since your group of friends spends a decent amount of time together, so no introductions are needed. A few of them do, however, side-eye you for a moment before patting Bucky on the back in a congratulatory manner. You try to brush it off as guys just being guys.

When you finally reach the far-too-grand front door, complete with an old-fashioned knocker, Bucky stops.

“Are you okay with me touching you?” he asks shyly.

“What?!”

“Not like...Y/N! I mean like, holding your hand, and dancing. You know, like boyfriend things.”

Please, you yell inside your head. Outwardly, you keep your calm.

“Get enough alcohol in me,” you say as you pat his scruffy cheek, “you can do whatever you’d like.”

If you’re going to make it believable, you might as well embrace the part, right?

Bucky practically chokes on his own tongue. “Right. Uh, shall we?” he says as he motions towards the door.

He guides you through the foyer and into the main room of the house where bodies were spilling out into the hall and into the smaller library and sitting rooms, hand firmly planted on your lower back. It seems like every other person you pass wants his attention, but he’s focused on getting the two of you into the heart of the party, probably to camouflage himself so Dot wouldn’t spot him.

“Hey. Bucky!” Christopher, who you know as the fraternity’s president, waves at Bucky from around a box of store-bought chicken. “I know you helped all day, but can you give me a hand with the rest of the food? It just got delivered.”

Bucky looks between you and Chris and sighs. “I’m really sorry,” he starts, shoulder dropping in defeat knowing he can’t possibly say no. He is one of the biggest and strongest of the brothers and was used to getting called upon to do the heavy lifting around the house.

“It’s fine,” you say waving him off. “I’m going to get a drink. Want your usual?”

He smiles at this and nods. “I’ll be back in five, promise!”

You watch him jog out the door Chris had just emerged from, and you turn to make your way to the kitchen. It was quieter, not as many bodies lingering around, so you decide you’ll camp out in there until Bucky comes back.

You’re just grabbing a beer for Bucky and wine cooler for yourself when a familiar voice calls your name.

“It is you!” Dot says when you turn around to see who was beckoning you. She hurries over and gives you a tight squeeze like it hadn’t been three months since she broke the heart of one of your best friends. Like she hadn’t destroyed the one person who’s happiness sometimes meant more to you than your own.

Taking one look at her, you suddenly feel very self-conscious. She’s an absolute vision in a deep evergreen dress that falls just above her knee. One thing you’d always loved about Dot was her effortless, vintage style. The dress screamed the 1940s and was something that would have made you look like you were in costume.

Her red hair was curled to perfection and framed her striking features perfectly. You were silly to think that Bucky would ever feel anything towards you when he had dated her for nearly four years. The encounter had you second-guessing why you’d even agreed to come to this party in the first place.

“How have you been? I miss seeing your smiling face every day!” Dot says cheerfully. In her typical energetic way, she doesn’t give you time to respond. “You look beautiful by the way! That color really suits you!”

“Not as beautiful as you,” a man you don’t recognize says as he walks up and wraps his arms around Dot’s middle.

“Oh hush,” she giggles as she leans into the kiss he plants on the side of her head. You shift your weight from side-to-side, uncomfortable with the exchange in front of you. It must catch Dot’s attention because she snaps out of the love bubble she had been in and looks back to you.

“Oh! I’m so rude! Y/N, this is Danny. Danny, Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Danny says as he extends one hand away from Dot to shake yours. You give a tight smile and return the gesture.

“Y/N and I ran in the same group for a while at the beginning of college. But, you know, life got in the way. It’s so nice to see you, though! I don’t think I ever saw you at one of these parties back when...” she just shrugs and decides not to finish the thought.

“Things change, I guess,” you awkwardly laugh.

Before things can get any more awkward, Bucky comes in through the door calling your name. He doesn’t see Dot and Danny at first, and so bounds over to you in two quick strides before wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

“I guess they do,” Dot says as she watches Bucky pull you closer into his side.

You want to preen at the obvious change in tone, an almost bitterness lacing her words now, but you know it’s just for show and she has nothing to actually be bitter about. This is the exact reason Bucky had even wanted you to come with him, and at least for his sake, it was working. Without thinking, you wrap an arm around his solid, broad middle.

“Dot!” Bucky exclaims in his smooth, confident tone you’d come to love. Bucky was nothing if not confident with the ladies, which is why he had a new one almost every week since the duo had broken up. He was also a great actor. You know for a fact that this confidence was just a front. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

“Surprise,” she says, pulling Danny’s arms a little tighter around her middle. Her gaze lingers on Bucky’s fingers as they start absentmindedly tracing shapes along your velvet-sleeved arm. “I didn’t know you two were...together.”

You can feel the rumble in his chest as he laughs. “Surprise!”

The tension in the room is so thick you could cut it with a dull knife. You look up at Danny who is glancing back and forth between Bucky and Dot, obviously not knowing what was going on. Unable to stand the awkward tension, you pat Bucky’s side gently to gain his attention.

“I’m, uh, gonna run to the restroom. Come find me when you’re done in here?”

Bucky glances at you and swallows hard. His eyes are pleading you to stay, but there’s nothing you can do to remedy the situation. Just like you’d told him on the way over, if he ever really wanted to let this go, he was going to have to talk to her sooner or later.

You take pity on him though and lean up to kiss his cheek. “I’ll be gone for just a few,” you whisper before releasing your grip on him and making towards the hallway.

When you emerge from the bathroom three minutes later, you can hear yelling over the music. As you make your way back towards the kitchen, you come to find that it was Bucky and Dot who was the source of the commotion.

Everyone has cleared out of the kitchen now, including Danny, so you choose to stay away. Deciding you’d rather not hang awkwardly around waiting for Bucky, and not feeling like striking up a conversation with anyone you know, you head out to the front porch. Luckily the weather has been mild this year, so you won’t freeze while you wait for Bucky to come to find you.

Ten minutes went by, then twenty, and you start getting a little antsy. There’s no way he was still in there talking with Dottie.

Despite the faux-date, you had been hoping to spend some time with Bucky. You thought that since he’d asked, begged you to come with that he would at least keep you on his arm while he made his rounds. But it was starting to look like that was not going to happen.

You check the time again and sigh, deciding that you’ll just call Natasha or even Clint to come to pick you up. You didn’t feel like wandering around the party by yourself, and you didn’t want to ask Bucky to leave in the middle just to take you home.

You shoot a quick text to Bucky to let him know what was going on, told him you weren’t feeling well and Natasha was coming to pick you up. It wasn’t completely a lie, just not the whole truth either. You call Nat and luckily she’s in the middle of a study break and agrees to come to get you in fifteen.

You wait for a text from Bucky, hoping it would be him telling you not to go, but it never comes. So when Natasha pulls up, you decide to leave the party, and hopefully your feelings for Bucky behind.

You’re awoken at 3:30 a.m. by your phone buzzing. You pointedly ignore it and turn over and try to go back to sleep. As soon as the call ends, another comes in immediately. You huff and roll back over, angrily yanking the phone from its place on your nightstand. Bucky Boy the caller id reads.

Before your tired brain can process what’s going on, the call ends and another immediately starts back up. “Hello?” you rasp into the phone, throat dry with disuse.

“Y/N!” Bucky slurs into the phone, obviously drunk. It startles you for a moment before you remember that he doesn’t need to drive anywhere since he lives at the frat house. “You left me at the party.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose and sigh, definitely not wanting to have this discussion with drunk Bucky, let alone sober Bucky. “I wasn’t feeling well so I came home.”

“But you looked so pretty and I didn’t even getta tell ya. I didn’t even getta dance with you!” You can hear him pouting through the phone and you can’t help but give a silent laugh.

“Buck, you’re drunk. Go to sleep.”

“No!” he shouts defiantly like a child. “Ya gotta listen to me, Y/N. Dottie...Dot, she tried to tell me that I didn’t really like you, that she could see through our facade. At first I got real mad, because that’s not what wasna sposed to happen. She was supposed to see us together, because it’s us, and get real jealous.

“But ya know what, Y/N, she was always jealous of you. ‘Cause you’re smart and caring, and funny and nice, and,” he stops to hiccup then. “And you’re jus so beautiful, ya know? She should be jealous of you because she’s not you and you’re you, ya know? And I know you’re gonna try and tell me I’m jus saying this ‘cause I’m drunk, but I’m not!”

Your head starts to spin a little as he continues talking. Every other word is slurred worse than before, which helps remind you of the fact that, yes, he is just saying this because he’s drunk. He’s drunk and upset about Dot so he’s projecting. It’s the only thing that makes sense.

“Ya know, I still remember that first day in English. I stumbled in half asleep and late and the seat next to you was the first one I saw. I hated it because it was in the front - I mean come on Y/N, who sits in the front of the classroom! - and vowed to never sit there again, but I did. I did every day for the rest of the semester and I’m so glad I did.

“You know why Dot doesn’t like you? Because I think she figured it all out before me. She broke up with me because she knew she wasn’t ever gonna live up to you. And I hate myself for only being able to tell you this while I’m drunk, but please, in the morning, make me say it again, okay? Because I like you and I think the feeling is mutual, but I’ve always been too scared to say something.

“And then stupid Dot came along and she was safe. I couldn’t ruin a friendship if there wasn’t one to begin with, so I settled. But I don’t wanna settle anymore, okay? So make me tell ya all of this again in the morning ‘cause I need to. You need to know.”

Tears start to drop down onto your cheeks, leaving salty trails as they do so. You’re not sure what to say, so you sit there and let him ramble on. You’d dreamt about this moment countless times before, Bucky confessing his feelings to you, but you never thought it would happen like this. Not when you’re half-awake with terrible bedhead and with Bucky three sheets to the wind. It wasn’t supposed to be like this, but you’ll take it.

Bucky’s quiet a little too long then, and you can hear his breathing over the phone as slowed a little. “Bucky?” you ask quietly into the speaker, but you’re met with only his soft breaths. He must have fallen asleep. Good. A sniffle a little before letting out a deep breath. “Good night, Buck. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

In the morning. Hopefully, in the morning everything he had just confessed to you would still stand true. That you would be able to confess your own feelings and something good could finally come from it.

You hang up and shoot him a quick text before you can second guess it. Returning your phone to its charger on the nightstand, you roll over and feel the butterflies come back. In the morning.

You: Hey Buck. Drunk you had some interesting things to say tonight. He wanted me to make sober you retell me everything in the morning, so I’m holding you to it. How about breakfast? We can make it a date. A real one this time. 

[tequila-clifford]

Taste of Your Tongue

Pairing: Ashton Irwin/Reader

Word Count: 3,540

Warnings/Rating: This is literally porn. 18+

Request: “Just imagine ash coming off stage one night absolutely dripping in sweat and he walks into his dressing room to you standing in nothing but one of his button downs and you turn around to face and it’s completely unbuttoned and he just looks at you with THAT look in his eyes and licks his lips and just says fuck babe you look absolutely delicious and just grabs you and pushes you on to the couch and kisses down your body, leaving the shirt in ofc, and after he’s done he says I was right delicious”

It was just under 15 minutes to show time. You were sat on the couch, fidgeting as you watched Ashton pacing with his earbuds in, fingers keeping the drum beats on his thighs as he walked, getting himself in the zone. You loved how he looked when he was concentrating, his brow furrowed and his lips pressed into a tight line. He seemed more nervous than usual, probably because tonight they’d be recording the show for their live album, he had to be perfect.

The longer you watched him pace, the antsier you became. Before you even fully realized what you were doing, you walked up to Ash and cut off his path, placing both your hands firmly on his chest, as he stopped.  Your fingers played with the last button below his half-exposed chest, he looked down and raised a brow at you before pulling the buds from his ears. “Hi, baby. What’re you doin’?”

“Nothing. You just look a little stressed,” You popped the button of his white shirt and looked up to meet his hazel eyes. “Thought I could help you relax.” You started undoing all of the buttons still lining his torso, until his hands grasped yours, halting your efforts.

“I gotta be on stage soon, baby.” He let out with a sigh, clearly disappointed that you two didn’t have more time.

“Afraid, I’ll leave you hanging?”

Ashton let out a laugh at your choice of words. “Quite the opposite, actually, love.”

You nodded but ignored his words as you freed your hands from his and ran them delicately up his marvel of a chest. You wound your hands up his neck and into his hair before pulling him down to meet your lips fervently. His large hands immediately wrapped around your torso, one splayed over the middle of your back and the other instinctively gripping your ass. You tugged the hair at the nape of his neck and he broke from your lips, just enough to let out a low groan, mumbling “Fuck it.” before reaching down to grip the back of your thighs and lift you around his hips.

He backed you up and sat you down on the counter that wrapped around ¾ of the dressing room. As soon as he had you where he wanted, your hands went to his belt as your mouth began working a mark on his collarbone. His hands left your thighs and pushed apart your knees, immediately rubbing you through your leggings. Your mouth broke from his neck as your head rolled back with a moan, he lifted your shirt to get to your waistband before pulling your leggings to your ankles in one fast motion. He returned to rubbing your clit through your panties just as you got his belt undone, you pulled his pants just low enough to get to his CK’s, you ran your hand along his growing length and pulled at the band, about to work them down his hips when there was a knock at the door.

You were just able to make out Michael’s voice, the sounds of your heavy breathing making it hard to hear. “Ash, two minutes, let’s go!”

“Dammit.” You let out heavily, Ashton’s head falling to your shoulder, while you tried to catch your breath.

“I have never hated him more.” Ashton groaned and pulled back from you, adjusting himself in his black boxer-briefs and fastening his belt. He lifted you from the counter and pulled your leggings back up for you, smoothing them out around your waist, while you buttoned up his shirt, being sure to leave his chest exposed. “Alright, baby, time to go.” He smirked at you and pecked your lips before turning towards the door.

“I’ll see you out there.” Your words made Ashton stop and turn on his heel to face you once again. He stalked back towards you quickly, grabbing your waist and pulling your body into his tightly, making sure you could feel the evident bulge in his black jeans.

He leaned down slightly, hot breath fanning over your neck as he spoke lowly into your ear “You better be right here and ready for me the second I walk through that door.” In the same instant, he released your waist and left the room without another word, leaving you standing there with your jaw on the floor and your panties getting wetter by the second.

You stood side stage, the perfect view of Ashton doing what he does best. His words from the dressing room still ringing in your ears as you watched his muscles rippling beneath his shirt, the sheer force behind every blow to his kit had you weak in the knees.

Just as the boys finished up Valentine, Luke’s vocal riff sending thousands of fans into a frenzy, the venue went black and they ran off stage. Ashton stopped in front of you and locked onto your eyes while the other boys grabbed waters from the table behind you and took a moment to catch their breath. “Getting down to the end of the set, baby. Don’t forget what I told you.” His voice was low and breathless, he took your hand and placed it over the zipper of his jeans, he was still hard. In that moment you were grateful for the dim lighting shielding you from the prying eyes of his bandmates and the crew backstage. He let go of your hand and looked past you, taking the water bottle that Calum had extended, he took a drink quickly and shot you a wink before turning to run back out on stage.

  You watched in awe as he stood on his drum kit, the crowd screaming as a spotlight fell on him and the remix audio for Meet You There began to play, he looked like a god. He hopped down and started his solo, your favorite part of the show. The boys rushed back out onto the stage, one of them touched your shoulder as they passed, but you were too fixated on Ash to know which one. You could feel every single beat in your throat, the vibrations from his drums radiating through you.

You stuck around to the end of the song, your heart pounding against your rib cage when Ash glanced over and shot you a wink before transitioning into Jet Black Heart. You turned away after another moment of pure captivation, and headed back towards his dressing room.

You shut the door behind you, found your bag, you pulled out your brush and ran it through your hair before walking into the bathroom to freshen up. When you returned, you grabbed Ashton’s carry-on from where he’d left it beside the couch, you rummaged through for a second before finding his red button up.

You could faintly hear the opening chords of She Looks So Perfect coming from the mainstage as you crossed your arms in front of you, grabbing the hem of your shirt before pulling it over your head. You kicked off your vans and pushed down your leggings, you slid on his shirt, eyeing yourself in the mirror for a moment before pulling it back off. You ditched your bra and slid your grey thong down your legs, slipping his red garment back on, letting it fall loosely at your thighs and the sleeves concealing most of your hands. You looked in the mirror once again, taking yourself in and fiddling with the buttons, trying to decide if you should leave just the top undone like he does, or not button any at all.

The hallway was echoing with the screams of fans, louder than they’d been all night. The set was over. Your heart was in your throat, beating so hard in anticipation you didn’t think you’d be able to hear anything else; until you could faintly make out voices getting closer in the hall. You kept your back turned towards the door, a little paranoid about someone else walking in by mistake.

The door clicked open, but you held your position, waiting for it to close. You heard the lock being turned and you spun around on your heel to see Ashton still facing the door. His white shirt sticking to the ridge of every muscle in his back, soaked with sweat. He turned to you and you quickly took in his disheveled appearance, beads of sweat running down from his hairline and his hairy chest practically glistening.

You panned back up to meet his face, his jaw slack, his eyes looking you up and down hungrily. “I know I told you to be ready for me when I got back,” he spoke lowly, taking a few steps towards you. “But fuck, baby-” He licked his lips as you closed the gap between your bodies, your bare chest pressed against him as your hands worked open the buttons of his wet shirt, your mouth ghosting over his as he continued to speak.  “-you look fucking delicious.”

Ashton ran the tip of his tongue along your lower lip teasingly before gripping your hips and lifting you up around him, backing you up to sit on the counter where he had you before the show. Your lips pressed to his fiercely, his tongue slipping into your mouth as you pushed his shirt from his shoulders, taking in the feeling of every muscle within your reach. As you tossed the garment to the floor, Ash ran his hands up your thighs, his thumb immediately finding your clit; you arched your back, pushing your hips into his hand.

Your right hand gripped the hair at the nape of his neck, pulling his head back and exposing his throat, you left wet kisses from his jaw towards his collarbones, teeth grazing his skin. You nipped at him right above his adam’s apple, then soothing the mark with your tongue, dragging a moan from deep in his chest. He slipped a long finger into you curling it quickly, his thumb still rubbing circles on your clit, your left hand locked around his wrist as his fingers worked on you, trying to keep him there as long as you could. He humored you for a moment, curling his finger a little faster and bringing you closer to the edge before pulling his hand from you; the hand that had been gripping your hip, reaching back and removing yours from the back of his neck.

He gripped both of your wrists in just one of his large hands, before bringing the other to your lips. You locked your eyes with his before taking his middle finger into your mouth, tasting yourself on his calloused skin. Ashton let out a moan at the sight of you with your lips wrapped around his finger, taking his lip between his teeth and eyeing your body. He pulled his digit from your mouth and grasped your other wrist, pinning both arms to your sides as he leaned down, not wasting any time teasing before latching his mouth around your clit.

“Mm-fuck!” you yelped at the sudden contact, trying to push your hips towards his face, but he had you exactly where he wanted you. He sucked harshly before easing the pressure with his tongue. He released your hands, wrapping them under your thighs and putting your legs over his shoulders, pulling you closer to him. You took advantage of your hands being free, and tangled your fingers through his hair, your other hand gripping his shirt at your chest.

He pulled back from your for a second, you whined at the loss of contact as he looked up at you from between your legs to speak “Hold onto me.” You didn’t have time to question him, his hold on your thighs tightened, sliding up to grip your ass as he lifted you from the counter. You gasped as you were thrust into the air, legs still around his shoulders and your fingers twisting tightly through his hair to as carried you towards the couch in the middle of the room.

He sat down on the couch and then laid back, never letting you go. You were straddled over his face, his tongue licking up your slit as soon as you steadied yourself. He was gripping your hips, hard, undoubtedly leaving bruises in his wake. The feeling of his mouth on you was electrifying every single nerve in your body, you started rolling your hips down onto his face, causing him to moan into you, the vibrations sending a chill up your spine.

His tongue pressed to your clit, working in figure eights as you ground yourself into his tongue. “Fuck. Ash I’m so close.” You moaned, throwing your head back, as he pressed his tongue flat against you, moving his head side to side against your clit before pulling it back between his lips, running the tip of his tongue over it quickly. The sensation had you seeing stars as your orgasm hit you, your legs began to tremble as he pushed you through your high, not letting up for even a second until you all but collapsed back onto his torso.  

Ashton pulled your hips back towards his face, kissing your thighs and cleaning you up with his tongue. He lifted you slightly, helping you sit up and straddle his waist, he propped himself up on his hands, coming nose to nose with you. “I was right, baby. Fucking delicious.” He pulled your lips to his own, tasting yourself on his tongue. He pulled back after a few seconds, looking at you with dark eyes. “My turn.”

He picked you up and walked around to the side of the couch, sitting you on the arm. You held yourself steady as he undid his belt and slid down his jeans, your eyes going wide when you noticed how hard he was and the wet spot on his boxer briefs from dripping precum. He slid them to the floor, and you bit back a moan as his erection sprang free. You stood from where he’d sat you down, but Ashton grabbed your wrist before you could get on your knees.

“Did I tell you to move?” You looked up at him through your lashes, biting your lip and shaking your head timidly. Ashton slowly moved his other hand to your torso, sliding it up between the valley of your breasts before wrapping it around your neck. He pulled you by your throat so his lips could ghost over yours. “You know what I have to do, don’t you baby?” Without another word, he spun you around and pushed you over the side of the couch, picking up your lower half so your knees were resting on the arm of the sofa, lining you up perfectly with his hips.

You were expecting him to thrust into you immediately, instead he slipped two fingers into you, moving them quickly and curling them into your g-spot. You steeled yourself , fingers desperately trying to grip the couch. “Oh Ff- Ash, please”

Before you could finish speaking, his free hand came up and cracked over your ass, pulling a yelp from you that turned into a hungry moan. “Ask me nicely, baby.” Ashton spoke in a low, level tone while he rubbed his hand over the red mark he’d made below your hip.

“Mmm- Ash, more.” He lifted his hand and laid in to you again, you cried out at the sensation, feeling your second orgasm building as the sting faded.

“Try again.” Your legs were trembling as you tried to find the right words “What do you want Y/N? Ask me nicely.” You moaned out loudly as he pushed his thumb onto your clit, still pushing his fingers in and out of you at a toe-curling pace, sending jolts through your body.

“Mm- FUck. I want to feel you.” his fingers stilled inside of you, curling them softly. “I want your cock, Ash, please let me feel you.” He gripped your hip and pulled his fingers from you, running a tight hand over his length before pulling your hips back onto him with enough force to make you scream. His left hand remaining firm on your hip as his right came up and gathered your hair, pulling your head back has his hips snapped into yours.

You could feel the stretch in every thrust, your body clenching around him every time he pushed into you, your whole body was trembling, but you knew you had to hold on.

“Ash, I- oh fuck- so close.”

“Wait for me, Y/N. Cum when I say.” You managed to nod as your bit your lip and concentrated on anything but the way he felt buried inside of you. Ashton released your hair and wrapped both arms around your torso, pulling you so your back was flush to his chest, his teeth scraped down the back of your neck, hot breath fanning over you. He let out a breathy groan into your ear as you squeezed around him, his thrusts fell out of rhythm. “You ready baby?”

“Fuck- yes, Ash. Please let me cum.” He bit into your shoulder, moaning at how wrecked you sounded.

“Cum for me, baby. Cum on my cock.” his low voice in your ear pushed you over the edge before he’d even finished his command. “That’s is, good girl.” he cooed as you felt him twitch inside of you “Mm- oh fuck” He moaned under his breath, trying to keep pushing your high through his own orgasm.

When he finally stilled, he lifted you up and pulled his length from you, he turned you around and laid you back on the couch before dropping to his knees in front of you. He spread your quivering thighs with his hands and gently licked up your slit, your body jerking forward as his tongue flicked over your oversensitive clit. Ashton shushed you soothingly running his large hands up your torso softly, one hand kneading your breast, and rolling your nipple between his fingers, the other laying across your hips. He kitten licked at you tenderly for a few moments, not trying to push you towards another orgasm as you lay there breathless from the last. He pulled away, pressing kisses to the inside of your thighs, then over your hips and up your stomach. He delicately mouthed his way up your neck, stopping for a moment to pay extra attention to that spot below your jaw before finally catching your lips with his own.

He pecked at your lips gingerly, hands sliding up your body as he pulled back and looked at you. “Did I mention you look fucking edible in my shirt?” he chuckled and you just shook your head.

“Yeah, I think you proved your point.” He smiled down at you before l pressing another kiss to the corner of your mouth, you pushed his shoulder back slightly, making him look at you again. “I think this is the first time we’ve ever had sex and I didn’t give you head… I mean I tried to-” You trailed off, watching as Ashton’s face went red, you caught him mumbling something under his breath, but you couldn’t make it out. “What? What is it?”

“I caught you before you could.”

“Well, I know that, I was there. But why?” Ashton sucked in a long breath before answering.

“Baby, I sat on stage hard as a rock for ninety minutes. Then I walk in this room and you’re completely naked aside from my favorite shirt. Then you came on my face. I don’t think I’ve ever been so turned on in my life, I wouldn’t have been able to last thirty seconds if you had used that pretty mouth on me.” You bit your lip, hands sliding up to either side of his face, you pulled him down and pressed your lips to his, feeling the smirk on his face.

You pulled back quickly when there was a knock at the door “If you two are done fucking, bus is leaving for the hotel in 5.”

“Fucking Michael, man.” Ash laughed as his head fell onto your shoulder. “I take back what I said earlier. Now, I have truly never hated him more.” You tapped Ashton’s shoulder signaling for him to stand up, he pulled back and lifted you to your feet so you could get dressed quickly.

You slipped your leggings back on and buttoned Ashton’s red shirt, throwing your previously discarded clothes into your bag. You walked towards Ash who’d finished gathering his things and was waiting by the door, he turned the handle and pulled it open as you got closer. You stopped in front of him and stood up on your toes to peck his lips before leaning over to whisper in his ear. “Shower and round two, once we get to the hotel?”

His eyes went wide, before you went to exit the room, not waiting for a reply. He reached out and smacked your ass as you turned, wrapping his arm around your neck and pressing a kiss to your temple. “Fuck, I love you.” He exclaimed proudly before the door clicked shut behind you.

Hope y’all liked this one! I’ve obvs been deep in some Ashton feels. 

Tag List: @asht0ns-world @singt0mecalum @ashton-ma-bestfriend @h0tsos @hotmessmichael @karr-bash @dukesnumber1 @cxddlyash@naivelystan @angelbabycal @glitter-sos @irwinkitten @5sosdrfluke @playboyhood @thesensationalcalum @dancingonanemptywallet @gigglyirwin @problem-w-problemz

[bamby0304]

Can’t Keep My Hands to Myself

Summary: Misha can’t help himself. It doesn’t matter that you could get caught at any moment, he just has to have you.

Pairing: Misha x Reader

A/N: Thank you @sculptorofbeginnings for looking this over for me!! This is for @spnskinnyballs’ challenge. The prompts I picked from her card are Misha and “Trust me?”. Also using the square Public Sex for my @spnkinkbingo card. And just for fun… check out the Misha scent by @scentsfromthebunker ;) xx

Link: Ao3

Square Filled: Public Sex.

Word Count: 1430

Warnings: Explicit language. Smut. Dirty talk. Public sex. Fingering. Unprotected sex. Hair pulling.

Bamby

You watched from the sidelines as Misha address the crowd in front of him. There were so many people, all here just to see your boyfriend. It made you blush to think someone as extraordinary as him chose to be with someone as simple you.

He moved around the stage like he owned it, like all these people weren’t strangers, but friends. He joked and laughed, and never held back on the innuendoes. He was a crowd pleaser, because it pleased him to see everyone so happy. The guy was honestly so pure of heart and beautiful.

Turning on the stage to pace a few steps, he twirled the microphone in his hand and looked in your direction. Eyes meeting, you blushed lightly as he grinned and licked his lips. It was a short moment, but intimate nonetheless. Just that look in his eyes, the dark gaze he only ever directed at you… it made your panties melt.

Ducking your head, you looked away with burning cheeks. He turned back to the crowd, acting like he hadn’t just fucked you with his eyes during those two seconds. Two seconds where the rest of the world fell away, leaving just the two of you.

You were walking side by side with Misha, wandering through the hotel, trying to get to wherever he needed to be next. There were so many people around, so the security had you walking the edges, trying to stay out of sight.

Leaning in, Misha whispered in your ear. “Trust me?”

There was no hesitation before you nodded.

Pulling back, he looked at your two escorts… suddenly his fingers wrapped around your wrist before he ducked the two of you into a nearby room.

Leaving the door open, he pressed you up against the wall and covered your mouth with his hand. “Shh.” He held a finger up to his grinning lips.

Slowly, he lowered his hand. When you spoke it was in hushed tones. “What are you doing?”

He shrugged, stepping closer so you could feel every hard line of his body against yours. “I was thinking about you while on that stage.”

“You were?”

Nodding, he reached up to straighten your lanyard, purposefully brushing your skin as he did. Your eyes fluttered shut, and head fell back against the wall. He watched with darkening eyes, dragging his fingers up to cup your cheek as his thumb reached up to run along your bottom lip.

“Wanted to fuck you over my chair. Didn’t care that everyone would see. Hell… they’d probably like the show.” Grinning, he leaned in to ghost his lips over yours. “Bend you over, fuck you with my fingers, first. Make you squirm. Make you beg.”

Whimpering, you practically melted against him at the image now playing in your mind. Like a dirty movie of what never would have been, but you so desperately wished it was possible.

“You like that? The thought of my fucking you in front of others? Showing them how I make you scream my name? How you quivering a moan? How you’re mine?”

His hand dragged down your body, pressing against and squeezing your breasts before he continued south. Your lip trembled with anticipation, your eyes peeking open to watch as his fingers slipped under your skirt.

The first brush of his knuckles against your panties made your knees buckles.

As you whined, Misha shook his head at you. “Shh. Gotta keep quiet. I might like the idea of people watching me fuck you, but you’re for my eyes only.” He pushed your panties aside and stroked your slit, watching your mouth fall open in a silent gasp. Chuckling, watching you already begin to fall apart, he slowly pushed one finger into you. “And I have plans, baby girl. Plans that I don’t want to be disturbed.”

You were left biting your lip to stay quiet as he began to pump the single finger. Soon he added another, pressing deep inside you, finding that spot that made your blood boil with ecstasy.

Misha watched you, watched the way you pressed yourself against the wall, clawing at the paint, trying you best not to make a sound. He was right there when your teeth released you lip, crashing his own onto them to muffle your cries as you came on his fingers.

Before you could recover he was pulling his hand away to undo his belt and jeans. Pressing against you, he lifted one of your thighs and wrapped it around his waist. Reaching between your bodies, he pulled his hard and throbbing cock from its confines, lifted your skirt, and thrust in.

“Oh my G-”

His mouth was on yours again, cutting you off as he claimed you all over. His thrust were hard and purposeful, driving into you at a pace that was too much and too little all at the same time. Misha knew what he wanted, and he knew how to get it, you just had to hold on and enjoy the ride.

Pulling away from you, he fisted your hair and turned your head sharply, forcing you to look at the door that was still ajar. It wouldn’t take much for anyone walking by to walk in and see the two of you.

“Watch them,” he grunted in your ear, still fucking you with that same deliciously torturous pace. “Watch them as they walk by while we’re in here, hiding, fucking. They could walk in, see this, catch us. They’d see you sucking my cock into that sweet pussy of yours. So fucking tight and wet. You’re a dirty girl, aren’t you?”

Biting your lip once more, holding back a whimper, you nodded.

“Touch yourself. Make yourself come on my cock and I’ll fuck you full. Make you walk around with my cum inside you, ruining your panties. You want that, baby girl?” Your walls clenched around him, answering his question. “Fuck,” he groaned, “you do want that.”

Grabbing your wrist, he guided your hand between the two of you, bringing it to where he was thrusting into you. He watched as your fingers pressed against your clit and began to rub, starting slow at first.

“Yeah, just like that.” He nodded against you, groaning. Thrusting a little faster, tugging your hair a little harder, he used your body to reach his coming climax. “Wanna feel you choke my cock when I fill you up, baby girl.”

The rough timbre of his voice, his cock fucking into you, your fingers rubbing at your clit, and his grip on your hair forcing you to keep watching the door… it all pushed you over the edge.

Misha turned your head quickly, crashing his lips against yours to swallow your scream as you came. Clenching his cock, bucking against him, you came with a muffled cry. Tears stung your eyes, the pleasure almost too intense.

He was right there with you, spurting thick ropes of cum into your pussy. Spasming ever so slightly, losing his rhythm, Misha kept his word and fucked you fill.

When he pulled away you were both panting, foreheads resting against each other. He let your hair go to gently caress your face instead, as his gaze locked onto your parted lips. You whined lowly as his cock slipped out of you, but Misha was quick to pull your panties in place to prevent as much mess as possible- and to keep it pressed against your pussy.

“We should really go before someone finds us,” you noted, still breathing heavily as you straightened up your clothes and hair.

Eyes fixated on your lips, he nodded as he tucked his cock away. “Good idea.”

Yet he didn’t move. He remained standing there, almost pressed against you as his lust darkened gaze didn’t waver.

“Mish?”

“Hmm?”

“What are you doing?”

“Contemplating whether I should fuck you again, here and now. I don’t know if I can keep my hands to myself until we get up to our room.”

Reaching up, your ran your fingers through his hair. “If we stay here, someone will see us… they’ll see all of me. Do you want that? Do you want to share?”

Giving a short but gruff grunt, he shook his head. “Fuck no.” Then his hand was in yours before he was practically dragging you out of the room.

The urgency in his steps told you two things. It was going to take him no time at all to get you to your suite… and once you were there, you wouldn’t be going anywhere any time soon.

Bamby

[queenofthemindynasty]

Even If You Say ‘No’ - pt 10

Pairing: Hoseok x Fem!Reader

Summary: {Y/n}, a brilliant, young producer at BigHit Entertainment, tends to be overly self-critical of her work and scarcely gives herself credit when it’s due. Hoseok, A.K.A. J-Hope of BTS, puts so much effort into keeping up the spirits of the other members, he hardly has time to worry about his own well being. What will happen when the two cross paths?

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Idol Universe

Warnings: implied self harm

Word Count: 1403

Hoseok’s alarm woke him up to the smell of dust and pages of old paperbacks, and he remembered where he was. But before he could hit ‘snooze’ and curl himself back around the warmth of his girlfriend, a thread of notifications caught his attention. The first was a text from Jimin. 

“Hyung, where are u? Are u ok?”

Of course his roommate would’ve noticed that he was gone. The next one was another text sent a few minutes later. From Seokjin. His heart sank. 

“I know you’re at {Y/n}’s apartment. You better show up to work soon. P.D. Bang isn’t gonna be any less upset than he already is if you’re late. And make sure to bring her with you.”

He’d actually gone and done it. “Damn…” He’d been serious in his word after all. He’d ratted them out. Hoseok put his phone back down on the nightstand. He sat up, the warm sheets falling off him and leaving him unguarded against the frigid, late winter morning air. 

“Hoseok…?”

He turned his head, smiling. “‘Morning.” The girl’s disheveled form under the covers blinked up at him. “Did you sleep well?”

She nodded groggily. Just the sight of her still half asleep lying in bed beside him made his chest feel full. It put an endeared smile on his face. 

He sighed. “I’m really sorry to have to tell you this, but we gotta go. Now.”

{Y/n} had been sweet enough to lend him some of her clothes. Most of them were oversized, so they fit him well enough. She’d given him one of her sweatshirts and a pair of loose-fitting jeans to wear. Despite being women’s jeans, they actually fit him better than he would’ve liked to admit. Fortunately he’d been smart enough to show up at her place wearing his own shoes, giving himself one less thing to worry about. 

Now the two of them were seated across from Bang at his desk in his office. The atmosphere was suffocating. Hoseok wasn’t usually one to get claustrophobic, but right now, all he wanted to do was take {Y/n} by the hand and escape through the door behind them. 

“I presume you know why I called the both of you here.”

It was beyond humiliating. Hoseok was getting flashbacks of being sent to the principal's office as an elementary schooler. Only this was far more devastating. “Yes, Sir,” he answered dutifully, making an effort to maintain a professional attitude. 

“Seokjin was the one who enlightened me as to what was going on behind all of our backs.”

“Sir, with all due respect, I didn’t have a choice last night. She’s been…going through a lot of stress recently and she needed me to be there with her.”

“Be that as it may, you’ve broken the rules set by the contract.” Hoseok fell silent, and {Y/n} gave him a concerned look. “From this point onward, every interaction between the two of you is to be strictly professional. You are forbidden from seeing each other outside of work, and any form of intimacy between you is prohibited. This is non-negotiable.”

The deadpan expression on their boss’ face made Hoseok’s nerves boil. But although it seemed harsh of him to break all ties between them by force, he was doing it for their own good. He shared the same good intentions that Seokjin had. 

“Let me remind you, Jung, of the fact that you agreed not to get involved romantically with anyone when you signed that contract. I’m sorry, but if you want to keep your relationship, you would have to quit your career as an idol.”

At that moment, the sun disappeared behind the clouds, and the room fell under its shadow. And Hoseok knew there was only one choice. He’d known it from the beginning. 

“Then I’ll quit.”

{Y/n} turned to face him, eyes wide in shock. “What…? Hoseok—”

“I’ve made up my mind. I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”

“But…” Her eyes widened, asking him, “Why would you throw away everything you’ve worked so hard for just to be with me?” It was that same dreaded look again. He gave her a look that let her know he was completely serious and that he wasn’t going to back down, and her expression changed. 

Sure, he would lose his status as a world-class idol, and he wouldn’t be able to see the other members every day as he had for the last seven years. He’d no doubt miss the cheering and singing voices of the Army. But he wouldn’t lose the friendship he’d made with the six others, and he would easily be able to find work, not that he even would need to. It would also take some pressure off of him. Moreover, nothing was more vital than proving to the girl sitting beside him that her life was worth more to him than everything else combined. He saw images of the time he spent with the other members—laughing together, suffering together, triumphing together—and images of a sea of stars shining beneath him. But it all stopped when the light of this one girl’s smile followed by bloody streaks marring soft skin engulfed his thoughts. He clenched his teeth at the memory, glancing down at her arm hidden by her sweatshirt, as it always had been. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind. 

He looked Bang in the eyes, showing no sign of weakness or uncertainty. “If you decide to keep me from seeing her, especially when she needs me there the most, I won’t hesitate to leave BTS.” 

{Y/n} and Hoseok were leaving the office, hands clasped to one and other. At hearing Hoseok’s threat, Bang had given in. He’d reminded Hoseok of the time back when the seven of them had still been trainees—when he’d almost been cut from the group and Namjoon had convinced both Bang and Hoseok himself that BTS wouldn’t be complete without J-Hope. The CEO’s mind hadn’t changed since then. He had agreed to let Hoseok and {Y/n} keep their relationship given the condition that knowledge of it wasn’t to be leaked outside of BigHit’s highest ranks under any circumstances. 

Namjoon had told Hoseok all those years ago what an important asset J-Hope would be. Had he really forgotten?

“Please don’t do that again.”

Hoseok turned his head to face {Y/n}. “What do you mean?”

Her fingers squeezed around his hand. “You know what I’m talking about. And I know exactly why you did it, too.”

Her expression was blank, impossible to read. “Yeah?”

“You were trying to run away.”

His footsteps halted, her hand slipping out of his grip. 

“You’ve been scared. Scared that they don’t appreciate you or what you do. I could see it in the way you smile on stage. It’s different from the way you smile when I see you around here—almost seems rehearsed.” She faced him. “You feel like a disappointment. You wonder if you really deserve all this attention and support. You think it’d be best if you just quit. After all, no one will miss you, right?” Her voice shook, lower lip quivering. But it was all true. He hadn’t noticed, but he’d been experiencing those feelings for a long time now. {Y/n} stepped toward him. As he looked into her eyes, he saw himself staring back at him in the reflection. She wound her arms around his neck. “Please…” Her voice rippled like the ringlets in a pond. “Don’t give up.” Her arms were wrapped like a vice around him. “You wanted to be an idol because you’ve always liked dancing, right? Then do it for yourself, not for anyone else,” she whimpered, trying so hard to get a hold of herself. “You taught me that. Remember?” 

He didn’t know what to do, what to say. He’d been so preoccupied with making sure she was happy that he hadn’t realised how unhappy he had been all the while. But somehow she once again knew exactly what to say to make him snap out of whatever lie he’d trapped himself in. She’d saved him yet again. Her words reflected the ones he’d offered her that morning in the dance studio more than a year previous. She hadn’t forgotten after all. 

“I won’t do it again,” he swore, holding her head close to his shoulder. “I promise.”

[fandom-imagines-stories]

Are you Watching Closely?  1 The Beginning Act

Jack Wilder x Reader (Dylan’s niece)

Words: 1673

Summary: After losing your mother to cancer, your uncle Dylan was the only family you had. Since your mother had helped him plan his revenge against Thadeus, you couldn’t help but be drawn into the mess. Dylan kept his life with you separate from the FBI and from the Eye but that all changes when he asks you to take Henley’s place as a Horseman.

Note: I love Dave Franco. I love Mark Ruffalo. This is just combining those two together and I hope you guys enjoy and want to see more of this series. It will take place all through and a little after the second Now You See Me. I also wanted to have some scenes in between the major plots, like flights and other trips. What better way to come out of hiatus than with a new series?

“Show me another one!” You demanded, your eyes bright with amazement. Your uncle gave you a small smile.

“Sorry kid.” He ruffled your hair and stood up from his seat beside you. “I have to get back to work. But I’ll be back as soon as I can, okay?” You pouted.

“But what if he shows up again?” You wondered, thinking about the tall creepy man who often came to visit  your mother.

“Then you give me a call and I’ll be here sooner than you can say Abracadabra, okay?” He pulled you in for a long hug. “Tell your mom I said hi. And remember-” He waved your card in front of your face. “The closer you look…”

“The less you see.” You finished, snatching the card from his fingers. A Jack of Hearts. Your favorite card. He gave you one final kiss on the forehead before walking out of the hospital waiting room. “Uncle Dylan!” You yelled before he stepped into the elevator. He turned back towards you. You held up the card in your hand and tossed it to him. When he picked it up, he received the Queen of Spades. He flashed you an impressed smirk as the elevator doors closed.

Thirteen Years Later

It was a tough crowd to please. Or at least, tough to please while still wearing clothing. The group of frat guys in front of you were practically drooling, but none of them were really impressed with your tricks.You decided to start the main event.

“For my next trick, I am going to need a volunteer....” You dangled a pair of handcuffs in your hand. “To help me put on these.” The crowd’s hands shot up, each boy shouting wildly at you to pick them. One in particular stood out. He was grinning at you like you were a piece of meat and he had a very expensive looking gold watch. Perfect. “How about you?” You pointed to him and his friends hollered and whistled as he jumped up onto your makeshift stage. “Would you kindly make sure that these are secure and tight?”

“Anything you want sweetheart.” He purred and you faked a smile. He strapped on the cuffs, sending a thumbs up to his friends in the audience. You were so going to enjoy this.

“As you can see, these are not  faulty cuffs.” You tried to pull your hands apart, the chain clanking.

“Kinky!” A very drunk nineteen year old shouted. You winked in their direction, biting back your disgust as pretty-boy took a good long look at your ass. You kindly ushered him off of the small stage.

“Now if one of you would close that curtain there.” He shrugged and started pulling the curtain across the stage. “A girl’s gotta have a little privacy.” As the curtain fully closed, you made sure they weren’t peaking through before picking the locks on the cuffs and hitting the button on the remote in your pocket. You soared down into the trap door right as the boy yelled.

“That bitch took my wallet! And my watch!” He threw open the curtain but it was too late. You were gone… and about seven hundred bucks richer.

The taxi pulled up to your apartment building and you handed him the money you owed. He smiled and drove off to find someone else who needed a lift and you plucked the wallet from your jacket pocket. You pulled out the guy’s ID and rolled your eyes.

“Of course his name was Chad.” You scoffed and slipped the ID into the sewer drain. After avoiding the other occupants of the building for two flights of stairs, you reached your apartment door to find it open. Your hand tightened around the pepper spray your uncle had given you as you entered, pushing the door open cautiously. The living room was empty, but there were sounds coming from the kitchen.

The sounds stopped and footsteps started towards you. You held the pepper spray out in front of you, ready to hit whoever came around the corner. But as the figure appeared in front of you, your scream was in joyous surprise.

“Dylan!” You exclaimed, nearly tackling your uncle in a hug. He laughed and wrapped one arm around you, holding a cup coffee in the other.

“Hey kid.” He pulled away and took a sip. “I didn’t know when you’d be home, so I helped myself. I hope you don’t mind- considering I help pay for this dump.” He looked around the apartment and you punched his arm in offense.

“All she needs is a little paint, that’s all!” You pouted, pushing passed him into the kitchen to pour yourself a cup as well. “Is there any particular reason for this surprise visit, or did you just miss me?” He rolled his eyes and you grinned, taking a long sip of coffee.

“I want you to be a Horseman.” He said. You spat the drink all over the kitchen floor, shock taking over your face.

“You want me to what?”

“I think that you have a lot of potential and I think that the guys could use someone like you to help them work together.” He evaluated, but you still just stared at him, mouth gaping and eyebrows raised.

“B-but, Henley just left and I don’t think it’s a great idea to introduce somebody new so soon. It’ll really piss of Atlas and won’t it look a little weird to them having your niece as a Horseman?” You leaned against the counter as you rambled.

“They won’t know that you’re my niece.” He grabbed your shoulders. “Come on, Y/N. Aren’t you tired of working with those sicko college guys?”

“How did you-”

“I went to one of your shows.” He admitted.

“Then you know that I am not good enough to be a Horseman.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. You just aren’t letting yourself reach your full potential.”

“I pick handcuffs and shimmy down trap doors.” You shrugged. “What else am I supposed to do?”

“See!” He exclaimed. “This is why I think you could benefit from working with the guys. Get some new ideas, get a little taste of the spotlight, it would be good for you.” He clasped his hands together. “Please, Y/N? They’ve been getting very impatient for their next show.”

“Why don’t you just bring Jack back to life? That would be a good opener.”

“They’re the Four Horseman, Y/N. They need you.” He begged.

“I’m the kid. I’m supposed to be the one with the puppy-dog face!” You scowled. Unfortunately, it worked every damn time. “I will meet them and we will see how it goes.” He beamed, pulling you in for a crushing bear hug and kissing your forehead like he always did when you were little.

“Thank you!” He grabbed his jacket from the table and started towards the door. “You’re not going to regret this, I promise. I’ll be back first thing in the morning. Make sure you’re packed!”

“I didn’t mean tomorrow!” You called after him, but he was already gone. You blew out a long, frustrated breath and took another sip of coffee. You made a face. “God this stuff is terrible.” You poured the rest into the sink and walked sluggishly to your room, immediately falling onto the bed.

This was definitely not how you expected tonight to go. You thought that you would just get checked out a few times and score a little money in the process. Now you were going to become part of one of the greatest team of magicians in the world.

“Shit!” You sat up suddenly. “What am I gonna wear?”

The knock on the door made you jump, nearly sending your lipstick in a line across your face. They knocked again.

“You have a key, just come in!” You yelled. The door creaked on its hinges and Dylan stepped in. “I’m in here!”

“What are you doing?” He chuckled as you straightened your sweater.

“Is it a crime to want to look nice?”

“I mean, technically you're going to become a criminal, so…” He teased. You shot him a look.

“You’re not making a strong case for me to become a Horseman.” You finished packing up things from the bathroom and moved on to the open suitcase lying on your bed. You didn’t have much, so it was pretty empty. Just your favorite sweatshirt, three pairs of comfy jeans, and some shirts. You could buy more clothes when you new what you’d be doing. He put a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“I’m not going to let anything happen to you, okay?”

“I know.” You sighed. In all honesty, you were just nervous. You picked up the photograph on your dresser. It was you, Dylan and your mom on a boat in front of the Statue of Liberty. “Do you remember this?” He looked at the photo over your shoulder and laughed.

“Yeah.” He pointed to your sickly pale face. “You threw up on the guy who took it for us right after this.” You smiled at the memory and placed the frame in the suitcase before zipping it up. “Are you ready?”

“No, but let’s go anyway.” You groaned and you rolled your suitcase behind you as you took one last look at your apartment before closing the door.

“Everything is gonna be fine. They’re gonna love you.” Dylan assured you as the two of you waited in the warehouse for the boys to show up. Your heart leaped when the door above you opened, three men emerging. They argued about something, none of them paying attention to the two of you as they approached the railing. It was Danny who noticed you first.

“W-who are you?” He addressed Dylan. “Who is she?”

“Guys, this is Y/N…” Dylan introduced. “Our new Horseman.” The three men shot each other looks before all responding at the same time.

“What?” You clicked your tongue and glared at Dylan.

“Told you.”

[ramblinganthropologist]

Writober 9 and 10 - Hoax and Lucky Charm

Summary: Ray’s got a big gig, but she’s getting flop sweat beforehand. Luckily, her sister has a special lucky charm waiting for her. Ok, maybe it’s a fake one - but it’s the thought that counts, right? 

---

Nope. No way in fuck she was going out there.

“Ray? Are you in there?”

Fuck.

Her eyes darted to the door – it was locked. That was kind of the thing you did when you went into a bathroom stall. She had hoped if she sat on the toilet and pulled up her legs nobody would see her, but apparently fate had other plans. They had found her, after all.

“Ray?”

The voice belonged to her stepsister, Ayame. She could practically picture the girl's face – eyebrows knitted in concern, mouth in a concerned frown, eyes sincere. She'd be the picture of a worried friend, trying to convince her to get out on the stage. This probably wasn't her first rodeo comforting a nervous idol kohai before she jumped out in front of the crowd.

So she should be used to being told to fuck off, right?

Sweat dripped down Ray's brow as she hugged her knees. “I'm not coming out, so you can go off and cover for me!”

“I haven't prepared anything, and neither has anyone else.” Ayame probably crossed her arms over her chest. She did that a lot. “So, unless you come out we're going to have a gap in the schedule we're going to have to fill with MC.”

Oh fuck, not MC. That was worse than pulling teeth.

Really, this shouldn't have been a big deal. Ray had been on stage before as an idol more than a few times. She even had the beginning of a fan club, small as it was at the moment. To say she had experience under her belt was putting it mildly. This shouldn't have been a problem for her.

But... it was Harunokaze.

Yep, Ray had somehow wound up in the lineup for Harunokaze Girl's Academy fall show. Normally, this was only for members of the school's music and dance programs. The Idol division had their own show a week later, or they had in years past. This was the first year the programs had combined for a two day show.

Which... didn't explain how a gen ed had even gotten a spot. Maybe someone really hated her.

Ray peered through the gap in the door, not letting the lock go. “I'm not even supposed to be here, though. I'm not in the music or idol programs.”

“You were added on overwhelming student demand.” Ayame looked way too innocent in all this as she counted on her fingers. “Something about a vote initiated by the general education track. You haven't noticed, but you're something like a hero to your classmates.”

Ray almost slipped off the toilet from the shock, but the door caught her before she landed face first on the bathroom floor. Her mind was absolutely blank as she ran through the details. Maybe once during lunch she had caught her classmates whispering over papers and trying to hide it from her, but she had never paid attention to it. The gen ed class always had a chip on their shoulder about something, so it hadn't surprised her.

But this one had gotten the entire class... and it had gone through.

“They really want me to perform?”

Ayame nodded. “I saw the petition to add you, pretty much every gen ed student signed it. The student council couldn't say no without risking an incident.”

Well... she hated that bitch. It was nice to know she was a thorn in somebody's side.

Of course, that didn't help the pounding in her heart. Ray's mouth had gone dry. She leaned her forehead against the door as her mind raced. The entire gen ed class had signed their name to getting her up on stage. She had become their sword against the school's other programs that flaunted their numbers and ability, their way to prove they had value too. If she messed up...

Well... nobody would give a shit about the gen ed program. They'd permanently become the joke of Harunokaze. Their petitions would wind up in the trash, their pleas ignored. All because she fucked up on stage.

No pressure... fuck.

“Ray? Can you open the door?”

Ray shook her head, finding it hard to speak. “I'm leaning against it.”

“How about you sit back on the toilet then? We can't have you landing on this floor, it's kind of gross.”

Despite everything, Ray laughed as she sat back on the toilet. “You think this is gross? Man, you would not survive back home.”

Ayame giggled on the other side of the door. Something about her laughter gave Ray something to focus on her. Her heart was still pounding, and her palms under her black finger-less gloves were all sweaty. Thinking was easier, but the worries still stabbed at her as she sat there on the toilet, trying to reign it all in.

A few seconds later, a shaky hand unlocked the door and nudged it open. Her stepsister was standing on the other side, still wearing her performance outfit. She had been on stage ten minutes earlier. Her makeup still looked pretty good, and the towel she had used to dry off was still hanging from around her neck. Talk about being the picture of an idol after a successful live.

No doubt Ray looked like shit next to her.

“At least your eyeliner still looks ok.” She held out her hand. “Why don't you come out and at least take a few deep breaths? I've got something for you to help with the jitters.”

Ray took her hand and returned to the bathroom proper. She caught sight of herself in the mirror – she was also dressed to perform, though her outfit was night and day from the frilly pink and white yukata Ayame was wearing. She preferred darker colors and harsher fabrics when it came to what she wore on stage, accented by metal jewelry that glinted under the harsh lights. Apart from her panicked expression and wide eyes, she could've been any rocker ready to go on.

But no. She was a scared idol in the bathroom.

“There we go.” Ayame was digging into a hidden pocket of her yukata. She drew out a small key chain with a star on the end. It was pink, with a lighter pink center in a sunburst pattern that created a sort of ombre. Honestly, it was pretty. “Here. It's a lucky charm to help you do well on stage.”

She hooked it onto a loop of Ray's jeans, turning it around so the sunburst pattern would face the audience. Honestly, it went really well with the rest of her outfit even if luck was out of the question. Were you supposed to feel better with something like this?

At least it looked cool...

“A lucky charm?” Ray cocked an eyebrow. “When'd you pick this up?”

Ayame offered her a grin as she adjusted her stepsister's vest so it hung better on her broad shoulders. “Saw it in a shop. The clerk said it promoted luck in whatever you did as long as you had it on you.”

“Well, then I think you used it up if you had it in your pocket during your performance.”

Her stepsister's cheeks puffed out slightly as she turned away. “I had one of the stage techs hold on to it for me, thank you very much.”

Ray found herself laughing again, much more relaxed this time. She had no doubt in her mind the so-called charm was a hoax, but it was the thought that counted most. Ayame had her back, even if they weren't on stage together.

Maybe she could do this after all.

“Kimura-senpai? Is Ray-kun going to go on stage soon?”

A nervous looking first year with an obnoxiously pink hair ribbon poked her head in. Ray recognized her – they were in the same class. Her name was currently escaping her, but the girl sat a few rows ahead of her. She was good in science class.

Wonder where her name was on the form...

Ayame turned to answer her smiling. “Thanks for letting me know she was in here, Hana-chan.”

Then she was looking at Ray. “Well? You doing this or what?”

Ah. So this was the backup manipulation if the lucky charm pep talk hadn't worked. Talk about having a backup plan for a backup plan. Ray felt her eye twitch as she looked from her stepsister to the girl standing by the door. She looked so damn nervous that it was kind of pathetic. Honestly, it was a miracle she wasn't digging a hole in the door frame with those fingers.

And this is who the gen ed class sent as their representative? Damn, they really were worried she wasn't going to do it.

The rocker responded by cracking her knuckles. The popping sound reverberated through the small room, making the other two girls jump. That put a slight smirk on her face as she peeled off her gloves to wash her hands in the sink.

“Yeah, just gotta wash up. You head back to your seat, Hana, I'll be on in a minute.”

Her classmate's nervous expression turned to pure joy as she nodded so hard she almost lost her bow -a ribbon in the exact same shade as her image color, Ray noted. “Right! I'll let everyone know! Can't wait to see you on stage!”

And then she was gone, sprinting down the hallway back to the auditorium. This left Ayame and Ray alone in the bathroom as the girl finished washing her hands. She dried them off without saying anything, and then pulled her gloves back on.

“You should head back too. I don't want you to miss it.”

Ayame smiled at her as she nodded. “Not going to take your lucky charm off?”

“It works with my aesthetic.”

Together, the pair left the bathroom. Though there was no one in the hallway, she heard the fast feet of fellow first years running back to the auditorium. She even caught a skirt hem as it turned the corner, disappearing from view. Just how many people had been gathered in the hallway waiting for her to come out?

How had she not heard them?

She shook her head – it didn't matter then. Ray was shifting into performance mode. Her heart rate slowed and it was easier to think as she watched Ayame disappear into the auditorium door. Now she was heading to the stage entrance, where the techs were waiting for her.

One sighed in relief as she checked a name off. “Good to see you, Jones. I just won 1000 yen off Tsumori-san in 3rd year.”

“Glad to help somebody make some money.” She could hear the student council president announcing her. There was resentment there. “Man, she's eating shit right now.”

The tech practically cackled. “And that is really why I'm glad you're here.”

Said president soon appeared, severe as always. She blew past both girls without saying a word, or even glancing back. Ray could practically feel the hostility leaking off her, blanketing her like an aura as she stormed back to wherever she hung out between sets.

Oh well. She'd peek in soon enough. Ray was about to blow off the roof.

“Well, that's my cue. Enjoy the show, pres!”

What, she was a shithead. And with her so-called lucky charm clinking against her her belt as she hit the stage, Ray had never felt better. Her body worked for her, striking her beginning pose as she flipped her mic up in the air, catching it as the song began in proper.

It was time to show them what happened when someone motivated by spite got the chance to fuck up somebody's day.

“Y'all ready for this?”

And the world dissolved into an overhead spotlight and a sea of pink glow sticks as Ray launched into her act. Later, she would complain about the sore muscles or the sweat sticking her clothes to her body. That was the furthest thing from her mind then.

Right then, she was an idol sticking it to the (wo)man. And that felt pretty damn good. Maybe it was just her, but her fake lucky charm sure looked shiny under the spotlight. That thought alone kept her going as she launched into her chorus.

Now, hopefully her voice would hold for the next part. She had been meaning to test out if the speakers in the auditorium could handle a little screaming.

[silkhyung]

MESSAGE DELIVERED | interim 1

→ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader / Namjoon x Reader → Genre: fluff, smut, angst, humor → Words: 2,659 → Rated: NC-17 → Warnings: language, sort of unintentional sexual innuendos

→ Summary: A text message sent to the wrong number turns into a long lasting affair between two people completely opposite one another. 

→ Note: Ok, so the interim parts are gonna be from Jungkook’s POV (to show how intertwined their lives are without them knowing) and I hope you remember the last paragraphs from the first part since they kind of hold significance in an early conversation in this one lol. Thank you for reading, hope you enjoy! :) 

(Also, these parts aren’t that important really (but this one is). They’re mostly because I love to write from everyone’s POV to make things more complicated lmao I’m sorry)

Parts: 01 : interim : 02 : 03 : coming soon

cr.

jungkook pov

━ 10:11pm Quick question Is it socially acceptable to just get up and leave a discussion? Maybe punch someone on the way out?

It takes a little bit of courage to send it, but when he finally lets his thumb press the send button and the message flies away with a sort of satisfying whoosh, he smiles and pushes it down the pocket of his tight jeans. He thinks it’s a little ridiculous, but it feels nice to message her again. It’s been three days after all.

He’s at Yoongi’s place with the rest of the band, and even though he gets glares from all of them - including their producer and owner of the apartment, Yoongi - for interrupting their heated discussion about promotions for the new song, the prominent smile on Jungkook’s face still can’t be erased as he fiddles with his fingers in his lap, waiting patiently for an answer from the stranger he still hasn’t figured out why he’s messaging in the first place.

“We should tell the bar we’ll play a new song, make them advertise it as the premiere of it”,  lead singer Jimin says, pretending to know things about promoting when literally all he knows is how to sing, crush on guys he can’t have because they’re straight poles and show a shoulder every now and then on stage to get the crowd going.

Yoongi rolls his eyes while crossing his legs elegantly. “That bar isn’t popular enough for that.”

“I agree”, Seokjin says, scrolling furiously on his phone as only a manager can. “We should find a more popular one for that, and you guys also need to step up your game on stage.” 

He gives Jimin a pointed stare that has the younger guy smiling awkwardly. 

“I saw the first person leave just fifteen minutes into your first set and even though they were wearing the most atrocious yellow cap I’ve ever laid my eyes on that I can’t help but think they just generally have bad taste, the point still stands.”

“Yeah, I noticed that, too”, Jungkook adds in, feeling the need to at least pretend he’s engaged in the conversation concerning the future of his band. He actually did notice that. “Awful cap.”

The sound of a text arriving in his phone makes the whole room turn to him to give icy, annoyed glares, and he apologetically nods while clicking off the sound on his phone. All of them continue the discussion while Jungkook focuses on his phone instead, not paying any attention to the rest of them.

━ Beatles Genius Y/N 10:13pm Are the other grandpas giving you a hard time? Maybe arguing over which board game to play before the inevitable afternoon nap?

Subconsciously, Jungkook smiles wide at the message, staring at the words for a few seconds before shaking his head at her. She has humor, and her teasing sarcasm is quite refreshing after hanging around Seokjin and his either flower power speeches or rude remarks about the band’s image on stage, which is mostly zoomed in on Jungkook and Jimin since Taehyung is sleeping on the couch.

━ 10:14pm Ur hilarious Pls note my sarcasm It’s vital for my dismissal of your comment

━ Beatles Genius Y/N 10:15pm LMAO You talk like a grandpa What proof is there really for me to know you’re not?

And then his smile dies a little, because what proof did she really have he wasn’t a creepy old man trying to eventually lure her away like any other internet troll? And how would he know she wasn’t the same, or worse? Yet still, he throws the thoughts away as quickly as they appear and promises himself he’ll be careful if it ever comes to that. For now, though, he is just going to enjoy talking to her.

━ 10:16pm Good point BUT I know who 1d are The fact that I know i can call them 1d should be proof enough tbh

━ Beatles Genius Y/N 10:18pm Nd so I believe you Maybe What’s up?

“Jungkook.”

Whatever he had been intending to write to her gets interrupted by Yoongi’s stern voice, stealing his attention away from his phone. The skinny producer is leaning forward in his seat on the couch, elbows on knees and hands locked together under his chin.

“What do you think about all this?” he asks the youngest in the whole room - whole group of all their mutual friends actually - and Jungkook knows it’s just to be a dick because they all know he hasn’t actually listened to a damn word any of them have said during the last twenty minutes.

“Oh, I, uh”, he begins a little uncertain, playing with the lip ring he got done just a couple of weeks ago. “I agree with Seokjin.” Nodding towards the eldest in the room, he gives another uncertain smile. “We should do as he says. He’s our manager for a reason, after all.”

Before he returns his attention back to his phone, he catches Jin’s proud nod, Yoongi’s roll of the eyes at the obviously disinterested answer and Jimin’s suspicious glare. He sees how the lead singer is about to say something and for some reason Jungkook just knows it’s about who he’s texting, but luckily Taehyung - who’s still asleep on the floor in front of the TV - fake-snores loudly and conveniently interrupts him before Seokjin starts cursing over how late their Chinese takeout is.

━ 10:19pm I’m sort of in a meeting And I’m bored af

━ Beatles Genius Y/N 10:19pm I see And you want me to do what??

━ 10:20pm Idk entertain me?

It’s silent for a whole minute and he’s just about to put his phone away and pretend he needs to pee or something to get away when his phone buzzes again.

━ Beatles Genius Y/N 10:21pm I’m not very funny

━ 10:22pm I beg to differ

━ Beatles Genius Y/N 10:22pm Thnx Okay so how about we play a little game and u tell me what you first think of when I say peanuts?

He raises an eyebrow at that, wondering where the hell she’s going with this but decides to just answer honestly anyway.

━ 10:22pm Salty

━ Beatles Genius Y/N 10:22pm Ok and burgers?

━ 10:22pm Tasty

━ Beatles Genius Y/N 10:23pm I see Rice?

━ 10:23pm White Sticky

She hasn’t read his last one yet, so he locks his phone and lets it lie in his lap while he rests back in the couch, spreading out since Jimin got up to take a phone call from someone he deemed much more important than an inofficial band meeting.

He nearly jumps out of his own skin when she finally responds and he feels the device vibrate lightly against his thigh.

━ Beatles Genius Y/N 10:28pm Lmao Ur answers are hilarious In a way That I regret mentioning Moving on!!! What color comes to mind when you think of apples?

Jungkook can’t help but let out a loud laugh as he reads over her messages, laughing at both the awkwardness of them and the way she sent them away with such haste he must’ve received all six of them in under six seconds. 

He ignores Yoongi and Seokjin’s annoyed but curious glares and gets up to walk into the tiny hallway instead so he can ignore them even more. He positions himself right by the door behind the coats so Jimin won’t notice him when he walks out of the bathroom.

For some reason, Jungkook wants to keep things private and undisturbed with her.

━ 10:28pm Cute Apples? Green

━ Beatles Genius Y/N 10:29pm Right! Everyone else I know thinks apples are supposed to be red and I disagree Passionately disagree

He notices she ignored his first text, but lets it slide, instead focusing on the fact that she ‘passionately disagrees’ and he can’t help but smile like a fool.

━ 10:29pm Lol gotta love that granny Smith

━ Beatles Genius Y/N 10:29pm Ofc good ol’ granny Smith would fall to your grandpa taste

Once again he lets out a laugh because of her, shaking his head while typing faster than he’s ever done before to someone.

━ 10:29pm Ur hilarious

━ Beatles Genius Y/N 10:30pm Lol you must not know many hilarious people

━ 10:30pm Ur hilarious

━ Beatles Genius Y/N 10:30pm Ok So what do you do since you’re in such a boring meeting?

Sighing, Jungkook runs a hand over his face. He doesn’t want her to think badly of him for being in a band, because he sort of feels like she will if he tells her the truth. Instead, he tweaks it a little to his own advantage.

━ 10:31pm I’m a part time chef while figuring out my future on the side

That’ll do.

━ Beatles Genius Y/N 10:31pm So you can cook? Nice

━ 10:31pm Yeah but what about you? What are you doing right now?

━ Beatles Genius Y/N 10:31pm Can’t disclose the exact location cuz I’m currently in a ninja fight But I’m in the library

━ 10:31pm Weird place to hold a ninja fight

━ Beatles Genius Y/N 10:32pm Ikr? I thought it was sketchy when they called me in But seriously I’m in the library Killing nothing other than myself with this slow reading

And suddenly he wants to know everything about her. What does she study? Is she in college? How old is she? What subjects are her favorite? Where did she grow up? What’s her favorite movie? Color? Food?

━ 10:32pm So you’re a student?

━ Beatles Genius Y/N 10:32pm Yeah I guess But I feel like I’m wasting my time tbh

His reply gets cut off by the front door opening, and turning around, he’s met with the smiling face of Kim Namjoon himself, looking like he just ran a fucking marathon both with the way he’s panting and with the clothes he’s wearing, and Jungkook raises an inquisitive eyebrow.

“Ah, Jungkook”, he smiles, wiping away a few beads of sweat rolling down his temple.

“Hyung?” Jungkook mumbles, locking his phone and pushing it down the front pocket of his jeans. “Where the hell have you been? And why do you look like…” Another glance at the guy’s outfit has him shaking his head. There’s really nothing to compare him to at the moment. He just looks absolutely ridiculous.

“Oh this?” Namjoon smiles, pulling his weird jacket off and Jungkook marvels at how he can go from looking like the coolest song writer and producer to looking like a dork from a work out video from the 80’s just like that. “A friend of this girl I like was hosting a charity run at campus with some club she’s in, I think, and I had to participate to win points, you know, because I don’t think she likes me very much.”

“Is she hot?”

Jungkook receives an unimpressed glare over the question, yet a very honest answer. “Of course she is. Absolutely gorgeous. Amazing ass.”

“I can forgive your poor choice of clothing, then”, Jungkook smiles, clapping the shoulder of his hyung affectionately a few times.

“The theme was ‘That 70’s Show’”, Namjoon laughs. “I would never dress like this otherwise. She wasn’t there to see it, though.”

The continuation of their conversation gets interrupted by Yoongi yelling at them both angrily, telling them Namjoon is too fucking late again and if it is because of that girl he’s been crushing on like a wimp he can go hide in a ditch, that Jimin has stopped acting like a girl over his latest crush and that Taehyung is now awake, so they’re all ready for the real meeting to start. 

Oh, and they should bring beer.

Jungkook offers to get the bottles while Namjoon pays the delivery guy who conveniently enough appeared just in time. 

While he’s alone in the kitchen, he quickly fishes out his phone to throw his Beatles genius a quick text so she won’t feel like he’s ignoring her.

━ 10:35pm Hey I gotta go get a verbal beating from my hyungs rn Kidding it’s just serious business stuff So you kno im not gonna be available

He waits selfishly for a few seconds for a reply, but when Yoongi impatiently calls for that beer he wanted, he leaves his phone on the counter to not get distracted during the now official meeting and walks in with a deep breath. This is probably gonna take all night if he knows Yoongi right, which he does, so he steels himself for countless of beers consumed and inevitable arguments between everyone.

Band meetings are his least favorite thing about being in a band. It’s not that he thinks of them as unnecessary or boring - because they’re not - they’re just not the most ideal thing to be caught up in all night when he’s the guy who joined the band solely because he thought he’d be able to live like a true rockstar rather than a very poor guitarist trying to make it on YouTube.

“Okay”, Seokjin starts, clapping his hands together while looking like he’s preparing to murder someone. “Let’s start discussing the new record.”

Namjoon rolls his eyes and prepares for his defensive speech of how he’s just a simple song-writer that can’t pull a song out of his ass just because people want him to and Jungkook thinks about what his Beatles stranger is doing, if she’s still studying and if she might actually be his complete opposite.

He thinks about her a lot during the meeting, and Jimin is the only one ballsy enough to comment on it but everyone knows that’s just because he has a crush on Jungkook and has had one ever since he and Taehyung found Jungkook playing guitar in an awful band in a dingy bar in Busan all those years ago.

“Who’re you texting so much lately?” Jimin asks the youngest when everyone’s clearing out of the living room and it’s well past 2am.

Jungkook’s too tired to go into it - and he’s pretty sure he doesn’t want to - so he uses the easiest explanation he can think of. “Joy.”

“So, what?” Jimin mumbles. “Are the two of you a thing now? You know what Seokjin thinks about attachments.”

Jungkook wants to mention the fact Jimin always seems attached to someone.

“I know, and we’re not a thing”, he says instead. “She’s just a good lay.”

It takes them ten minutes to say their goodbyes because Yoongi keeps telling them to drive back safely before he keeps reminding them he wants them in the studio in just a few hours, while throwing in a threat or two about ditching them if they don’t show up on time.

When they all part ways, Seokjin and Jimin to their own places, Namjoon to the apartment he shares with someone the rest of them haven’t gotten the (dis?)pleasure of meeting yet and Jungkook and Taehyung to their own shared apartments, it’s even more late and Jungkook really feels like a walking dead.

It isn’t until the two of them have walked to Jungkook’s old piece of crap car that he fishes his phone out again to check if he has any new messages.

━ Beatles Genius Y/N 10:36pm Okay good luck or something I guess lol Try not to punch anyone!

━ Beatles Genius Y/N 12:01am This is maybe because I’m very tired But I kinda enjoy talking to you :)

━ Beatles Genius Y/N 12:03am It must be because I’m very tired But ur still hilarious Night lol

He reads over the messages several times, the smiley and the words all shining back at him from the screen, illuminating his face in artificial light where he stands in the dead of night outside his car.

“Hey, can you hurry up and get us home?” Taehyung complains from the other side of the vehicle, slapping the roof for emphasis. “I want to go home and sleep.”

And when Jungkook makes the thirty minute drive back to their shared apartment, he wonders if the sort of warm feeling in his chest is because of the fact he’s going to sing more in the band now or because of the last seven messages he received.

next part

[araliyaintheskywithdiamonds]

A Transmission On The Midnight Radio - A CrissColfer fic

Hey guys! Following a couple of requests, I decided to post my fics on Tumblr as well. 

Chris watches Darren perform as Hedwig, and has a lot of feelings.

From his view from the technical booth, Chris could see The Belasco Theatre in all it’s beautiful entirety-  the intricately designed dome of the ceiling reflecting the fluorescent purple light emanating from the stage and bathing the orchestra and mezzanine in a faint glow. The velvet curtains had been pulled back to reveal the stage, most of it taken up with a battered-looking fake car and the band equipment.

 Chris had always loved the serenity and ethereality that came with broadway and theatre. No phones, no distractions, nothing but the collective appreciation of art. He’d considered broadway in the past of course, and it wasn’t ruled out for the future, but if Chris was certain about something, it was that Darren definitely belonged on the stage. He thrived in the spotlight and deserved every single ounce of attention he was given.

 Hedwig and the Angry Inch was three songs in, at one of Chris’ personal favourites- Sugar Daddy, and he watched enraptured as the music started and Hedwig took off her little jean jacket and ripped off her necklace, flinging them behind her.

 I've got a sweet tooth for licorice drops and jelly roll, Hey sugar daddy, Hansel needs some sugar in his bowl…

 No matter how many times Chris watched Darren perform as Hedwig, he could never take his eyes off the enthralling rock princess. Darren owned the stage, and Chris could see that his boyfriend revelled in the freedom that the role brought him. Hips shaking and  head rolling back, she strutted effortlessly across the stage in her iconic golden boots.

 Chris’ mind wandered back to the months before when Darren had been rehearsing tirelessly for the show. He’d insisted on spending entire days walking around in heels, determined to master them before he had to perform. Chris had watched in amusement during the first few times as Darren wobbled around, cursing at every twisted ankle. After not long at all- since Darren somehow managed to be good at anything and everything anyway- he could run, jump, and dance in the things.

 The owner of said boots was now standing on the bonnet of the car, hands roaming seductively all over her body.

 I'll be your Venus on a chocolate clam shell rising on a sea of marshmallow foam and if you got some sugar for me, Sugar Daddy, bring it home.

The song ended with a flourish, Hedwig posed with her legs splayed, mic stand held above her head, as the applause thundered around the theatre. Chris’ heart swelled with pride and he sorely wished that he could be down in the audience there for Hedwig to kiss, just like Neil Patrick Harris had done with his husband David.

 But of course, that could never happen. Chris couldn’t be spotted at any of Darren’s shows. Too many eyebrows would be raised, rumors passed, speculations roused. They had to keep their relationship virtually non existent to the public, and an intricate plan had been set out years ago, to do exactly that.

 No one but their teams and their closest friends and family knew about Chris and Darren, and Chris almost preferred it that way. He didn’t want to have to deal with the onslaught of accusations that he’d ‘turned’ Darren, and that their characters’ relationship on Glee hadn’t been the result of powerful acting, but them in love instead.

 Darren had also insisted repeatedly on interviews that he was very heterosexual, and almost everyone had bought it. Chris could understand the appeal of it. A straight man, so comfortable with his sexuality that he could play LGBTQ characters with such ease and realism? The directors and producers ate it up, and the viewers fell in love with it.

 Chris knew that this, apart from his undeniable talent, charm and good looks, was what got Darren his jobs. The gayest straight man on earth, Darren had been described as. Chris smiled to himself, albeit a little sadly. If only they knew.

 Chris was well aware that the PR and lies tortured his boyfriend to no end. Darren wanted nothing more than to show his true colours- to be able to walk up to Chris and kiss him in front of the world, and for nothing to crumble at their feet.

 But they both knew it wasn’t that easy. Chris and Darren had too much to lose, and not much to gain. They already had each other, and that was enough for the both of them.

 Chris reverted his attention back to Hedwig, mentally saying the lines along with her. He’d watched Darren perform so many times that he knew the script backwards.

 “... both made of genuine Chris Col-Fur. It’s hard to get but I can get it. I know a guy.”

 The audience erupted with laughter, and Chris felt like he was about to burst. Whether it was with love or bittersweet longing, he didn’t know, but he’d had the exact same reaction every time the line was said, since Darren had come out with it on Chris’ birthday.

 When Chris had first heard it that night, all he’d wanted to do was to run down onto the stage and take Darren into his arms and kiss him. Instead, he’d smiled so widely that his face hurt, and laughed when the tech and sound guys had looked up from their chairs at Chris, and winked knowingly at him.

 Trust Darren to change the script of a Tony Award-winning musical just to surprise Chris. It was in this way that his boyfriend showed his love for Chris- through references in musicals, lyrics in songs, and rings on fingers.

 Chris watched as the battered car, which was now hanging in front of Darren, was winched up to reveal Hedwig, now Tommy, in a pair of tiny black shorts, and nothing else. No matter how many times Chris saw this scene, his spine always tingled with a rush of emotion.

 It wasn’t the shorts. (Well it was partly the shorts, since Darren had treated Chris with his own little private performance in said article of clothing as a celebration after Hedwig’s opening night).

 But it was also the pale glow that rose off Darren’s body as he stood there on the little podium, makeup smudged, sweat gleaming on his skin, curls matted to his forehead. Even though his character was not, Chris could see that this was Darren at his happiest.

 Wicked Little Town came to an end and as the lights came back up, Midnight Radio began. Chris closed his eyes as the music swelled, trying not to let the tears come as they usually did. Chris wasn’t a crier but damn this song. The melody, Darren’s voice…

 And you're shining Like the brightest stars A transmission On the midnight radio

 And then the audience was cheering as the curtain call started, and the cast assembled on the stage, blowing kisses and waving. Chris stood up and walked over to the window, placing a hand on the cold glass.

 Darren’s gaze roved across the orchestra, the mezzanine, the balcony, and then came to rest on the tech booth. Chris watched as hazel irises met his own and Darren’s smile widened. Chris smiled back, bringing his fingers up to his mouth to blow his own kiss.

 Darren’s eyes glistened as he in return, lifted his hand up to rest on his bare chest, right above his heart, all the while holding Chris’ gaze. In that small gesture, Chris felt a thousand unspoken words fall upon him.

 I’m so grateful, Chris could almost hear Darren saying, like he’d done so many times before. God, I’m so grateful that you chose to stick with me through all this shit.

 To which Chris would hold his boyfriend tight and assure him that always- it’s always going to be you, and then Darren would cry which would make Chris cry and-

 “Hey man, we’re gonna shut off the stage lights now.” One of the tech guys, Matthew, placed a hand on his shoulder. “You might wanna catch him before he has to be at the stage door.”

 The words pulled Chris out of his reverie, and he got up, hugging the boys goodbye, before creeping out of the tech booth and down backstage.

 He met Rebecca Naomi Jones, who played Hedwig’s boyfriend, at Darren’s dressing room door.

 “You were amazing as usual,” Chris told her, after Rebecca pulled back from the excited hug she’d given him.

 “Oh thank you my love, I didn’t know you were coming tonight! Darren said something about a dinner?”

 It was actually a party that Chris had to go to with his assistant, to keep up appearances, but who had he been kidding when he’d told Darren he was going? Chris knew that unless it was a matter of life or death, he wasn’t going to pass up an opportunity to support Darren at work.

 “He’ll be happy to know you’re here,” continued Rebecca, winking exaggeratedly.

 Chris laughed. “He already does.”

 They said their goodbyes, Chris promising to come see Rebecca before the next night’s show, and then he was left standing facing the door, the words Darren Criss staring back at him.

 As soon as he pushed inside, Darren looked up into the mirror to see who it was. His face twisted into a grin when their eyes made contact.

 “I knew you would come.”

 And in those five words, Chris understood. There was nothing on this earth that meant more to him than this man sitting before him. The past four and a half years of secrets, lies and heartbreak had been a testament to it.

 ...So hold on to each other You gotta hold on tonight...

 That’s what they were. Fleeting yet steadfast, bittersweet yet still achingly beautiful. What he had with Darren was exactly like a transmission on the midnight radio.

 Chris walked up behind Darren and took in their reflection.

 “Of course,” he whispered.

   Note: All lyrics and title from Hedwig And The Angry Inch