#it’s her first time headlining I’m so proud of her

[leverage-ot3]

y’all istg i have zolita concert tickets for tomorrow night and there is supposed to be a snowstorm tomorrow night and if I have to miss it I will kill everyone and then myself

[euphorajeon]

'make it right' with jk for the 1k celebration pleeeaaaasssseeee 🫶

light of the morning

— request: jeongguk + make it right - bts

— pairing: jk x f. reader

— genre: fluff, angst

— word count: 2.7k

— warnings/tags: idol!jk, college student!oc, mild angst, they're best friends, insecurities and self-doubt thoughts.

— summary: in the eternal night that seems endless, jeongguk finds his peace in the light of the morning.

— author's note: hi anon! thanks for requesting :) summary is obviously inspired by the lyrics of make it right, which i used as the general inspiration for the story. i hope it doesn't stray too far from what you had in mind, hehe. enjoy!

a continuation of opposite of sun. i suggest to read that first before reading this!

masterlist

‘Jeongguk Takes Over Times Square With a Surprise Performance’

‘Massive Crowd Gathers In Times Square for a Jeongguk Surprise Performance’

‘Jeongguk Surprises Times Square Crowd With a Free Concert’

It’s been a day since Jeongguk’s surprise performance at Times Square, and the media headlines praising his performance just keep flooding in. In the articles, there were no flaws in his performance. Impeccable. Perfect. The media especially highlighted the way his fans only got a 30-minute notice before the performance, yet they were able to fill up the streets of Times Square. They were loud, singing along to his songs word for word, and Jeongguk is so proud.

The praises didn’t only come from online articles, they also came from the radio hosts and interviewers who were lined up in Jeongguk’s schedule today. It’s refreshing to answer questions outside of the usual ‘What’s your favorite food to eat in the US?’ and about his surprise performance instead. Jeongguk is grateful that his manager, Namjoon, scheduled these interviews after the performance instead of before it.

“Do I have any more interviews for today?” Jeongguk asks Namjoon, peeking at the clock on his phone. It’s only a little after seven in the evening. He knows it’s a silly question to ask, already knowing the answer by the look on Namjoon’s face.

“You have two more, actually,” Namjoon answers regardless. “Plus taping for two songs for one of them. I thought you knew this already?”

“Uh, yeah, just making sure.” Jeongguk clears his throat, eyes still on his phone.

“You’ve been checking your phone a lot today. Something wrong?” Namjoon inquires, a worried look replacing the duh one he had on his face earlier.

“No. Everything’s okay.”

Yes, something is very wrong.

It’s been more than a day since he video-called you, a little over a day since his performance at Times Square, and little less than a day since he texted you the YouTube link of said performance. In that time frame, his phone is completely void of any notification from you. No texts, no calls, even no tweets or an Instagram DM. You’ve been totally silent and it’s starting to get on his nerves. Why are you leaving him in the dark?

“You sure? You look like you want to punch someone.”

What he wants is praise from you! No, he doesn’t want it, he needs it. All the flowery words from the media and radio hosts mean nothing if he hasn’t heard one from you. Ever since he started his singing career, your opinion has always been one of the first ones he seeks. Without it, he’s lost. Left wondering whether his performance deserved the accolades, or they were only for his pretty face.

“Jeongguk, we’re here. Put a mask on and smile. You can worry about your best friend later,” Namjoon says the moment the car comes to a stop in the parking lot of a building somewhere in New York. Jeongguk looks at him as he’s getting off the vehicle, confused. His manager throws him a small smile. “Don’t look like that, it’s kinda obvious you’re thinking about her.”

“I haven’t heard from her since yesterday, hyung,” Jeongguk sighs. “I have the right to be worried.”

“You’re not the only one with stuff to do, you know? Maybe she’s busy too. I’m sure she’s fine,” Namjoon tries to reassure him. “Give her a call after this, to ease your mind.”

Namjoon is right. You’re probably busy juggling midterms and your part-time job back home. The chasm he felt yesterday opens back up, gaping to remind him that you two are worlds apart. Superstar Jeongguk who replies to texts in seven business days has no right demanding a reply from a regular college student after only one day.

Two more interviews. Two more songs to perform. Then he can hear your voice, see your face, and everything is going to be okay again.

Jeongguk finishes his schedule for the day a little after 1 AM. He tries to call you in the car, on the way back to his hotel. No answer. Tries again when he reaches his hotel room. Then tries again after he showered and changed into comfortable clothes to sleep in.

Ten missed calls.

Jeongguk goes to sleep with a dark cloud in his mind, completely restless.

In the morning, when the sun is already up—the way the moon is in Seoul, where you are—Jeongguk cracks his eyes open to stare at the ceiling in his room, his heart still heavy with worry. Also heavy is his head when he sits up on his huge hotel bed, likely due to his tossing and turning in his sleep all night. It doesn’t help that his lockscreen is still void of notifications labeled with your name. You’ve been MIA for almost two full days. Where are you?

He sends seven more bubbles in your chatroom, a sigh slipping past his lips when the tiny word under the blue bubble only reads delivered. He’s on his last thread of hope when he clicks on your contact picture to video call you, and that thread snaps when all he’s staring at on the screen is his own puffy and tired face.

Maybe he should order some breakfast. Get something to munch on, pry his mind away from the thought of you and what you’re up to in a country far, far away from where he is. He hopes you’re okay. He hopes you aced that midterm you were up until three to study for (although you spent the good part of the last hour talking to him on FaceTime). He hopes you’re eating well and not some instant cup ramyeon or shitty take-out from the Chinese place by your apartment that you frequent because it’s cheap.

After skimming through the room service menu, Jeongguk places an order of breakfast enough to feed five people. (What? He needs his energy. And a distraction.) The kind hotel staff who took his order informed him that his food will be ready in around 20 minutes. Good. Plenty of time to track his schedule for today and not think about you. (So much for a distraction.)

As it turns out, his itinerary for today is not packed with work schedule. Namjoon had only written ‘Explore’ along with a note to bring the camera noona who usually follows Jeongguk around to film all of his adventures as an idol. Said “adventure” is typically limited to dressing rooms of music shows, though. Oh, maybe Namjoon wants him to stroll around the city and make a vlog out of it, give his fans a little peek of what he does in his down time in New York.

In order to do that, he has to shower, get dressed, and maybe get his makeup done. He definitely needs to get his hair done, though, there’s no way he’s going out with this bird nest atop his head. Or maybe he could go natural, let his hair breathe for the day. Namjoon said it makes him look like a college boyfriend, and apparently, his fans love the look. Throw some hoodie and jeans on, and Jeongguk would be ready to go to class with you.

Ah, you again.

His mindless scrolling on Twitter in procrastination halts, the words on his phone not registering as his mind goes back to you. What would it feel like to go to class with you? To watch your focused face in class, trying to absorb knowledge from the professor? To be there next to you, answer your question whenever you struggle to grasp a concept? To be your college boy—

A knock on his door interrupts his thoughts.

Jeongguk stills, waits for the shout of room service! to follow, but it never comes. The clock on his phone tells him it’s only been 10 minutes since he ordered breakfast, so maybe it’s not room service after all. Maybe it’s a staff member, coming to tell him to get ready for the day.

As Jeongguk makes his way to the door, come some more knocks, this time more tentative than the one prior. Before he could reach the door, the person on the other side speaks.

“Jeongguk..?” It sounds muffled by the door, but the voice rings familiar in his ears. It’s the voice he last heard almost two days ago, via a video call connection between New York and Seoul. Could it be? No, it couldn’t … right?

Jeongguk’s eyes are right in front of the peephole just as the voice sounds again: “It’s me, Bun…”

There, in front of his hotel door, stands a girl 15 centimeters shorter than him, dressed in black jeans and her favorite sage green sweater, with a lump of black fabric hanging off her left arm. A faded black baseball cap sits on her head, so faded it looks almost navy. When she finally looks up to peek at the peephole, Jeongguk loses his breath.

It’s you. It’s really you.

Jeongguk is so stunned that he’s frozen in place, just staring at your confused expression that slowly morphs into one of anxiety.

“Did Namjoon give me the wrong room number..?” you mumble, fishing your phone out of your pocket.

Jeongguk has never yanked a door open that hard in his life.

You tear your eyes away from your phone, jumping in surprise at the sudden movement. His eyes lock with yours, and the shock on your face melts into a smile.

“Hi!”

You’re obviously exhausted, having just got off a 14-hour flight from Seoul, moving 13 timezones backward, seeing the sun when you’re supposed to see the moon. But the way you beam at him is full of glee, your eyes bright despite the obvious fatigue. Jeongguk is mesmerized.

Wordlessly, he reaches for your shoulders to pull you into a hug. They feel more prominent than the last time he hugged you, and he doesn’t know whether it’s from your haphazard eating schedule or just … time. He doesn’t remember when he last gave you a hug. Doesn’t remember the last time he saw you in the flesh like this.

“You just woke up, didn’t you?” you say from somewhere near his collarbone.

“Maybe,” Jeongguk mumbles. “Maybe not. I feel like I’m still dreaming.”

“Up in the clouds, are we?” you chuckle. “Well, if you’re done dreaming then maybe we could come in? Backpack’s starting to hurt my shoulders.”

It’s right at that second that Jeongguk just realizes the huge backpack hanging off your small frame. The poor bag is bursting at the seams, like it’s gonna comically explode if you even try to unzip it. Jeongguk closes his fingers around the small handle on top, testing the weight.

“Did you fit your whole life into this? Why is it so heavy?” he complains, immediately untangling your arms from his body so he can slide the backpack off you and onto him instead. “I feel like I’m about to do the 20 kilometers march in the military.”

“Hah! Try navigating JFK with that on your shoulders. It’s way harder than the military,” you huff, following Jeongguk into his hotel room.

He sets your backpack down on one of the couches, turning around to get answers to a thousand questions in his head, but pauses when he sees you’re still standing by the door. Your eyes are scanning the room slowly, stopping at Jeongguk to look at him with an unreadable expression on your face.

“What?” Jeongguk says.

“It’s huge,” you say. “The room, I mean. They usually are in your vlogs, but it’s different seeing it in person.”

This could turn into another conversation about their differences quickly, but Jeongguk is not in the mood to deal with distance today. For once, you’re an arms-length away from him. He doesn’t want to fuck this up and send you back to KST, 13 timezones away.

“Eh, I think your backpack is bigger.” He shrugs. Safe route, for now. “What do you have inside that bag, really?”

“My brick ass laptop, thank you,” you say sarcastically, finally going deeper into the room just to give your backpack a protective hug. “Still have a midterm to finish and submit here.”

“You still have midterms and you’re here in New York?” Jeongguk gapes. “Why?”

“Because you asked me to be here,” you state like it’s obvious. “Well, not like that, but you looked so sad on our last video call that I booked a flight here as soon as we hung up the call. Didn’t really realize the weight of it until I was watching your performance with Yeseo and I blurted out that I bought a ticket to New York and how maybe it was a stupid thing to do on a whim like that. She looked at me like I was stupid and said I should totally go. So. Here I am.”

If selective hearing is a sin, then Jeongguk would be guilty because he heard nothing beyond the part where you said you were watching his performance.

“You watched my performance?” He parrots his thoughts. “But you said you would have been asleep…”

“No sleep is worth my best friend’s sadness.” You throw him a small smile. “Actually, Yeseo set an alarm for it. And then I went to have the midterm with a terrible headache because I didn’t get enough sleep. But it’s worth it, the performance was amazing. You did great on that stage.”

“I did great…?”

At this point, Jeon Jeongguk should change his name to Parrot Jeongguk, because all he ever does is just repeat things he heard. First his thoughts, now you.

“Yes, of course you did great, Jeongguk. Wasn’t it obvious, the way your fans were screaming their lungs out for you?”

I only wanted to hear it from you, Jeongguk thinks. The media headlines and praises from the radio hosts and interviewers flash in his mind, all positive feedback for his performance, yet still planted a seed of doubt in his mind. It caused an ugly darkness to settle in his mind, one that worsened with every call you didn’t pick up.

“Why’d you ghost me, then?”

Way to ruin this moment, Jeon Jeongguk.

“I didn’t mean to, I’m sorry. Between catching up on sleep and rushing for the flight, I just didn’t have the time to look at my phone at all. Also, I was on the plane? It takes a long time to get here from Korea if you didn’t know.”

“So it’s not because my performance is bad?”

You get up from your position on the couch to grip him on the shoulders, your nails digging into the material of his t-shirt. You have to strain your neck to be able to look him in the eyes, but you hold his gaze firmly like the position doesn’t hurt you at all.

“Jeon Jeongguk, listen to me. Your performance was great, you looked handsome, your singing was on-point, your high note was awesome, your dancing was super cool, and the crowd was really loud. I don’t know what kind of validation you seek, but I personally think everything about your performance was perfect.”

Yours. I only want your validation.

Slowly, the darkness in his mind begins to disperse, replaced by this warm beam of light piercing through the clouds. It settles in his mind like a blanket, protecting him from any more bad thoughts. He thinks it’s because of you, bringing light wherever you go. Can that light be shared with him? Will he glow from the inside out if he connects his lips with yours? Why does he want to lock lips with you?

“Jeongguk, are you okay? You look like you’re floating in the clouds again.”

Yeah. No. I want to press my lips against yours. Can I?

Three knocks sound from the door. And then: room service!

Jeongguk clears his throat (and his mind along with it.)

“Do you want to explore New York with me after we have breakfast?”

Jeongguk might want more, and he might be ready to admit it. After all, the light to his darkness is here. If not now, then when?

“Sure, it’ll be a fun best friend adventure!”

…maybe some other time.

a/n: thank you for reading! i'm planning to have a part 3 of this but let's see if i can actually find the time to write it ahah

[natailiatulls07]

Fake lovers

Lando Norris x female!driver!reader

Summary - McLaren wants to repair Landos image and Lando just wants to protect the papaya sunshine

Warning - one night stands (not between Lando and the reader), alcoholism, doing drugs, stalking and stalker, violence, sexualising, harassment

Reader drives for McLaren

-

McLaren had a problem. One of their drivers was creating a bad reputation for himself, partying every night, different girl in his bed every night and same old hangover the next morning. Lando was painting a bad picture for McLaren, making them look like they took on someone incapable of taking care of themselves and those around them.

Yet McLaren had another driver, Y/n L/n. She was their golden girl, new to the formula one business, quickly getting to grips with each car and track. Never was she painting a negative image of McLaren, the complete opposite to her teammate, Lando.

It was similar on track, Lando would always find a way to fumble on track and then would proceed to let out his anger towards the team, the other teams and the press but not his teammates. Headlines filled with his frustration and attitude.

F1 News

Once again, Lando Norris has become unruly to anyone in his way. Will this once golden boy ever get his shine back or is his future in formula one just dull?

But Y/n L/n, oh how the fans loved her. Always stopping to sign anything, to take photos or even to just have a genuine conversation. On track, she’d try to avoid any collisions, penalties or arguments. Even if she didn’t get on that podium, you’d see her sporting a proud and exciting smile whilst looking up the three on the podium.

In contrast to her teammate, Y/n’s headlines were seemingly always positive.

F1 News

McLarens golden girl is back from the summer break and she is better than ever. She is smashing the drivers into the dirt, yet also being very polite. How can anyone be mad at the rookie?

-

McLaren needed to get the situation under control, get Lando back to his normal self. Everyone could see him losing himself to drugs, alcohol and sex, and McLaren wanted to save him before it was too late.

So that is why McLaren came up with the plan to get the two drivers to 'date'. They planned this to inprove Lando's image.

That’s how’s Lando ending up standing outside Y/n’s apartment. Knocking on the door, he heard a faint call from inside. “One second, sorry let yourself in”

She had known it was him. Clumsily Y/n had lost track of time, and was late getting ready.

Walking in, Lando found Y/n rushing around her bedroom. “Hi..” He was nervous, not used to this old school ‘romantic’ situation.

Usually he’d be getting ready to go to yet another club to get yet another girl that he would sleep with and never remember her again. But he was here, watching his current teammate and soon to be fake girlfriend rushing around her bedroom before their fake date.

“Hey, I’m so sorry! I was reading and sort of lost time” Y/n quickly looked up from her vanity where she was finishing her makeup, she had a genuine shameful and sorry look in her eyes.

“It’s um it’s okay” This was totally not his element, however he felt somewhat comfortable. Anyone who had spent some time in Y/n’s presence could tell you that she had that relaxing aura about herself.

“You can make yourself at home if you want, I won’t be that long” Once again Y/n looked up at the British man offering a kind smile, she was just finishing her mascara.

Lando nodded his head before making his way towards the cozy living room. Fairy lights lit the room with a tranquil vibe.

-

It wasn’t long before Y/n’s heels started to echo throughout the small Monte Carlo apartment. Lando looked up from his phone to see her walking out of the bedroom.

She was wearing a dainty black dress. “Are you ready?” Y/n sent Lando a small graceful smile, whilst he got up from the the soft couch.

“Yep let’s go..” His voice was still quiet, still apprehensive of the whole plan.

At first he refused the plan; despite not caring about those around him, he felt bad for bring this sunshine of a driver into his problems.

Lando knew of the hate he got for his attitude and his lifestyle. And he desperately wanted to keep her away from those people who looked on him that way.

-

That evening, Lando swapped out constant drinks for nonalcoholic drinks. He swapped out multiple girls at once for one soft spoken and genuine women who was patient and easygoing.

They spoke openly with each other for hours whilst at the restaurant. Speaking up until a waitress, who was slightly nervous to be waitering two formula one drivers, came over to notify them that the restaurant was closing.

“You know…I don’t agree with what the media or the press say about you..” They were making a slow pace back towards her apartment, when she looked up at him with sympathy.

“To be honest I don’t care, I mean I see them but I don’t take them to heart” Lando had a awkward smile following his comment.

“But you don’t deserve it…like that one time when we were waiting for post race press, you let me borrow your jacket because I forgot mine” It was back when they were in Canada, the weather was horrible.

And whilst they were waiting for their press interviews, Lando had noticed how every so often Y/n would shiver. So he shrugged off his papaya McLaren jacket before pulling it over her shoulder. Of course, Y/n was quick to protest against it politely as to which Lando quickly turned her arguments down.

As they continued to slowly walk back, Lando didn’t reply to her comment. He wanted to agree with her but he knew that his career was on a downward spiral.

-

The next morning, the two driver woke up in their individual apartments to many articles with several paparazzi photos of their ‘date’

F1 News

McLaren’s resident bad boy and their resident good girl has chemistry brewing between themselves. They were seen in Monte Carlo on a date, different to Lando Norris’ usual evenings in different clubs.

Has the bad boy gone good for the golden girl? What will this mean for formula one’s good girl? Will Norris just dispose of L/n like the many other girls he brought home or is this different?

See picture below 👇

-

Over the next few of months, both Y/n and Lando started to attend more events together, going on more ‘dates’ and even becoming more and more affectionate in the paddock. It quickly felt normal to have that affection with each other.

Soon enough the media and the press started to calm down on Lando, they saw how his lifestyle changed.

He went from night clubs to cafe dates. Most of Lando’s time was consumed with the sunshine that was his fake girlfriend but he didn’t complain. He loved it!

“Hey Lando..” Y/n called from the living room.

“Yeah?” Lando was in the kitchen, making both himself and her a quick snack.

“The guy in my instagram dm’s just sent me a text…” Over the past couple of months a random guy had been sending Y/n uncomfortable texts.

Some were more concerning then others;

Oh doll, I’d love to see you in my bed

Your boyfriend doesn’t deserve your body, come to me babygirl

I know where you live little lady, you might as well come to me now

Every time, Y/n would block and report him yet he would make other accounts before continuing. Each time Lando would send him a dm, protecting her.

“Okay please give me the phone” Walking back into the living room, Lando was handed her phone.

He quickly sent the older man a message once again protecting the poor driver. Sitting beside Y/n on the couch, but his typing was cut short when there was a knock on the apartment door.

“I’ll get it” Getting up from the couch, Y/n slipped on her soft slippers before making her way to the door.

Upon opening the door, she was greeted with the same man who had been harassing her on instagram. “Hey little lady”

He had a creepy and sickening smile on his face, Y/n could smell the strong smell of alcohol radiating off of him.

As soon as Lando heard the old man’s greeting he was up from the couch immediately, making his way to stand in front of Y/n.

“Sir please can you leave my girlfriend alone both here and in the future, it is very clear that she is beyond distressed” Lando urged the man to leave.

“Why should I listen to you? You want her for the same reasons as me, you might as well share her” He wasn’t listening, just continuing to harass the girl.

“No. I am asking you to leave out of her life completely because she is my girlfriend, not some sex whore, the love of my life and as her boyfriend it is my duty to love and protect her from people like you”

It was when the man started to laugh that Lando pulled forward, colliding his fist with the man’s sickening face.

“Right, I don’t like the way you are talking and laughing about my girlfriend like she is a fucking object! So do us all a fucking favour, fuck off out of her life and my life too!”

It wasn’t long before the older man started to practically run off with his tail between his legs back to the apartment building exit.

Once until he was long out of Lando’s sight when he turned to face Y/n, who had a frightened and bewildered facial expression.

“It’s okay he’s gone..” Pulling her into his chest, Lando let her calm down in his arms, listening to his heartbeat through his thin cotton t-shirt.

-

After an hour of sitting on the couch watching Y/n’s comfort film, she turned to Lando who was sat close by her.

“You know you didn’t have to do that…I mean I totally appreciate it a lot but I don’t want you to burden yourself with my problems…” Along with being a golden girl, Y/n struggled to let people help her with her issues.

This didn’t surprise Lando, he knew it wouldn’t be long for her to apologise for no reason. “I’m going to stop you right there.” Taking a quick deep breath, Lando looked over at the shameful look in her eyes. “I did that because you are the love of my life…I am here to protect you. You are the sweetest, most pure and giving girl, I know…I love you Y/n”

That shameful look in Y/n’s eyes soon turned into confusion. “Lando, we’re um we’re alone…you know we don’t have to act like this..”

“I’m not acting, what I just said is the truth” Before Y/n could reply to his comment, Lando pulled their faces together colliding their lips.

Y/n’s lips were soft on his, he could taste her strawberry lip balm. It felt like fireworks were going off behind Y/n.

Pulling back, a small smile made its way onto her lips. “I think I love you too” Y/n’s voice quiet but sure.

“Well that’s good to hear, Darling”

-

It was true, McLaren’s golden girl had fixed their bad boys image and reputation. He was happy to be with her whilst she lost her track of time with her head in a book.

He was happy to indulge in her healthy and easygoing lifestyle and personality. All because he loved her, just for herself.

He was grateful for the early nights and slow bittersweet mornings. Grateful for her.

-

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 22, Untold - Pt. 3

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, Pocket committing humourous and harmless crime, me not knowing how police stations work.

Word Count: 972

Previously On...: You and Tony tried to sheer some sheep. Now it looks like the cops are headed your way.

A/N: Listen, I am too proud of the headline that Tony makes up. Too proud. Also, at the very end, they say the things for the first time! XD

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

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“How many times do I have to tell you,” you told the officer who was questioning you, “we weren’t trying to steal the sheep, we were just trying to shear them.” You and Tony had been brought to the local police station and informed you were both going to be charged with trespassing, attempted theft, and criminal mischief. They’d separated the two of you, and you were doing your damned best to make sure that they at least dropped the attempted theft charge. “I demand to see the criminal statute that makes that illegal,” you said.

The officer rubbed his face with his hand. You’d been at this for awhile now, and it was obvious he regretted getting stuck with you.

The door to the interrogation room swung open, and another cop stuck his head in. “Jones,” he said, addressing the officer, “her lawyer’s here. We gotta cut her loose.” Lawyer? You didn’t have a lawyer. You couldn’t fucking afford a lawyer.

The other cop motioned for you to exit the interrogation room, which you did happily, and quickly, not wanting to spend another minute more in there than you had to. In the lobby, you saw Tony quietly speaking to a gray-haired gentleman. 

“Ah, (Y/N),” he said when he saw you approach. “This is my attorney, Mr. Mitchell. He’s going to be representing the both of us over this little misunderstanding.”

You shook hands with the lawyer, but said “I’m sorry, but I won’t be able to utilize your services, Mr. Mitchell. I’m pretty sure they have to provide me with an attorney, as I most certainly cannot afford one.”

Tony scoffed at that. “Please. I got you into this, the least I can do is make sure you’ve got legal counsel.”

His words took you aback. You were so unaccustomed to having someone do something kind for you (even if, technically, the entire endeavor had been his idea) without expecting something in return.

“I’m not going to sleep with you in exchange for a lawyer, Tony,” you said.

Tony looked offended. “No offense, but you’re way too young for me. Besides, I don’t need to get girls a lawyer to get them to sleep with me, thank you very much.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” Mr. Mitchell said with an awkward cough, “I need to speak to the desk sergeant about finalizing your bail. The older man walked off, leaving you and Tony alone.

“Sorry about that,” you murmured. “I guess I’m just not used to people doing nice things for me without wanting something in exchange.”

Tony studied you. “You strike me as a girl who’s had to grow up pretty quickly,” he said. His voice wasn’t pitying, but it was sad. You just shrugged.

“Well,” he said after a moment, “the press will have a field day with this. I can see the headline now: ‘From Billionaire to Baaaaad Boy: Playful Playboy Arrested in Woolly Misadventure’.”

You snorted at that. “I can make sure they never hear about it,” you said.

Tony cocked his head at you. “Oh, you can, can you?” he asked.

You glanced over to where the precinct’s receptionist sat at her computer. “Can you cause a distraction? Get her away from that terminal for about five minutes?”

Tony brought a hand to his chin. “Like taking candy from a baby,” he said. He sauntered up to the receptionist and slammed his hand down on the counter, causing her to jump.

“Excuse me!” he shouted at her. “I demand to speak to your superior officer! I have never been treated so disrespectfully in my life!”

The receptionist blanched. “I’m sorry sir, but if you have a complaint, you can fill out–”

“DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?” Tony shouted. “I demand you take me to your superior officer this instant, or I will have your job!”

The poor woman was frazzled as she led Tony back into the bowels of the precinct. As soon as they were out of sight, you ran around the counter to the terminal. It was only a matter of moments before you were able to locate the files for you and Tony, and with a few quick keystrokes, you had deleted them as though they never existed. 

You quickly checked the pile of paper files waiting to be sorted, locating the case files for both you and Tony. Checking to make sure the receptionist and Tony weren’t yet on their way back, you stuffed them down into the very bottom of the public trash can before running back to stand exactly where Tony had left you.

In a few more moments, Tony and Mr. Mitchell came out from the back of the station together. 

“Well, that was quite fortuitous,” Mr. Mitchell said. “It appears that there was some sort of computer error and your charges were erased from the system.” You avoided Tony’s glance at you as Mr. Mitchell continued. “The desk sergeant has agreed to contact me once they’ve re-entered the information from the paper files. For now, you’re both free to go. Tony,” he shook Stark’s hand, “always a pleasure. And Ms. (Y/L/N),” you shook his offered hand. “It was lovely to meet you.”

“You, too, Mr. Mitchell,” you said. “And thank you so much.”

You and Tony followed the lawyer out, and as Tony started the Audi to begin your drive back to Boston, he turned to look at you.

“So, Kiddo,” he said, having learned you were just nineteen from your police intake, “how would you like a job?”

You stared at him, eyes wide. “Are you serious?” you asked. There was no way he was serious. An offer like this could change the trajectory of your entire life.

“Like a heart attack,” he said.

You grinned at him. “When do I start, Boss?”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[amethystarachnid]

Would you consider involving Tony's parents in a one-shot? I've seen a few one-shots with his parents alive and being the best parents, and I really like that idea. If that's okay with you, I'd like to request 18. Resolution Reflections with Young!Tony Stark x f!Reader, his parents are throwing a New Year’s party and it's the first time Tony and Reader are spending it together and the first time she's going to his parents' house, they're going to love her and be proud of their son dating a good girl. At midnight, they share a kiss and their New Year’s resolutions/reflections, their shared dreams, and the promise to always achieve everything together, just pure fluff 🥰 and you can set in modern times, don't need to go back to the 90's 🥰

NEW YEAR EVE

⤷ ANTHONY “TONY” E. STARK

ᯓ★ Pairing: Young!Anthony “Tony” E. Stark x fem!reader

ᯓ★ Genre: romance, fluff

ᯓ★ Request from: MARVEL Holiday special

ᯓ★ Story type: one shot

ᯓ★ Timeline: they're on their last year of high school

ᯓ★ Word count: 5.2k

ᯓ★ Summary: what the ask said

ᯓ★ TW(s): nothing

ᯓ★ I think I went a little off track with this and I notice only now that the story is complete, I'm sorry if this isn't exactly what you asked :(

ᯓ★ My Masterlist

ᯓ★ MARVEL Holiday Special

ᯓ★ MARVEL Multiverse - choose an AU, pair it with your favorite character and make a request!

ᯓ★ Songs & Superheroes tales - The Game (to make a request, follow the rules on the link!)

ᯓ★ MARVEL Bingo

ᯓ★ English isn’t my first language

The invitation comes casually, like most things with Tony. He’s lounging on your bed, one arm tucked behind his head, the other flicking a small gadget between his fingers—a prototype, no doubt, that he whipped up in his spare time. The room smells faintly of burnt solder, thanks to his earlier tinkering. You’re perched at your desk, trying to study, though it’s hard to focus with him stretched out there looking entirely too comfortable in your space.

“So,” he says, drawing the word out like he’s testing the waters. “What do you think about spending New Year’s Eve with me?”

Your pencil stills over your notes, and you glance at him with a raised brow. “That depends. What do you think about spending New Year’s Eve with me?”

He rolls his eyes, that playful grin pulling at his lips. “Obviously, I’m in. But there’s a catch.”

Your stomach flips a little, and you don’t know why. Tony catches your hesitation immediately because, of course, he always does. He props himself up on one elbow, his expression softening in a way that still catches you off guard, even after all this time.

“Hey,” he says, voice quieter now. “It’s nothing bad. I just… well, my parents are throwing their annual party, and I want you to come with me. Meet them.”

You blink, the words landing heavily in your chest. Meet them. As in Howard and Maria Stark. The man whose name is on every headline, whose brilliance (and sometimes questionable ethics) cast a shadow Tony can never quite escape. The woman who appears in magazine spreads looking flawless and untouchable, like a queen in designer couture.

“Tony…” you start, but he’s already scrambling off the bed, crossing the room to you in a few quick strides.

“Before you say no,” he interrupts, crouching beside your chair, “hear me out. They’ll love you. I mean, how could they not? You’re… you.”

You let out a soft laugh, though it’s more nervous than amused. “You’re biased.”

“Damn right I am.” He leans his chin on the edge of your desk, looking up at you with those warm brown eyes that can talk you into almost anything. “But I mean it. They’ve been bugging me to bring you around anyway. And this party? It’s just a bunch of people standing around drinking overpriced champagne and pretending to care about the ball drop. You’ll fit right in.”

Your chest tightens at the thought. Fit right in? Not likely. Tony’s world feels so far removed from yours sometimes, even if he never treats you that way. He’s always been good at making you feel like you belong, like it doesn’t matter that his idea of a normal day includes private jets and cutting-edge labs while yours involves coffee runs and library study marathons.

“I don’t know,” you say finally, chewing on your bottom lip. “What if they… what if I don’t make a good impression?”

Tony straightens up, tilting his head as he studies you. “You’re nervous.”

“Of course I’m nervous!” you blurt, your voice higher-pitched than you’d like. “Your parents are—well, they’re them. What if they think I’m… I don’t know, not good enough for you?”

His expression shifts, and for a moment, you think you’ve offended him. But then he reaches for your hands, pulling you to your feet. His grip is warm, steady, grounding.

“Okay, first of all, no one gets to decide that but me,” he says firmly. “And second, they’re going to love you. Trust me.”

The way he says it—like it’s an unshakable truth—makes your heart squeeze. Tony Stark isn’t always the best at expressing his feelings, but when he does, it’s impossible not to believe him. Still, the idea of standing in a room full of people who know Tony as the heir to one of the biggest empires in the world feels daunting.

“I don’t even know what I’d wear,” you mumble, trying to stall.

Tony smirks, his usual cocky confidence slipping back into place. “Oh, that’s easy. I’ll pick something out for you.”

You narrow your eyes. “If it’s anything like that weird futuristic dress you sketched for me last month, I’m saying no.”

“Hey, that design was ahead of its time!” he protests, though he’s laughing. “But fine, we’ll shop together. Deal?”

You sigh, the fight slowly draining out of you. It’s hard to say no to Tony when he’s this determined. And, deep down, you know he means well. He wouldn’t be asking if he didn’t think you could handle it—or if he didn’t want you there.

“Okay,” you say at last, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll go.”

The grin that spreads across his face is so boyish and unguarded, it almost makes you forget why you were worried in the first place. Almost.

The days leading up to the party pass in a blur of preparations. True to his word, Tony drags you to a boutique downtown, where he insists on finding the perfect outfit. It’s an exhausting ordeal—he vetoes nearly every dress you try on, claiming they don’t do you justice, until you finally settle on something sleek and elegant that makes you feel like maybe, just maybe, you won’t stick out like a sore thumb.

“You look amazing,” Tony says as you step out of the fitting room, his gaze lingering on you in a way that sends heat rushing to your cheeks. “My parents won’t know what hit them.”

The night of the party arrives faster than you’d like. Tony picks you up in a sleek black car that’s almost too nice to sit in, dressed in a tailored suit that makes him look older, sharper, every bit the heir to Stark Industries. He whistles low when he sees you, offering his arm with a grin.

“Ready to make an entrance?” he asks, though he doesn’t wait for your answer before leading you to the car.

By the time you reach the Stark mansion, your nerves are a full-blown storm. The house is enormous, glowing with warm light against the crisp winter night. Guests in designer gowns and tuxedos mill about on the front steps, sipping champagne and exchanging pleasantries that sound more polished than genuine.

Tony squeezes your hand as you step inside, his touch a lifeline. The air is thick with the scent of expensive perfume and the low hum of jazz music. You spot waiters gliding through the crowd with trays of hors d’oeuvres that look too pretty to eat.

He leads you through the crowd with ease, pausing now and then to exchange pleasantries with people who seem eager to talk to him. You’re introduced as “Y/N,” no titles, no qualifiers, just your name. It’s both comforting and terrifying.

And then, there they are—Howard and Maria Stark. They’re standing near the grand staircase, an impressive pair that commands attention without even trying. Howard is tall and broad-shouldered, his sharp suit and carefully combed hair giving him an air of authority. Maria, by contrast, is elegant and understated, her smile polite but unreadable.

“Mom, Dad,” Tony says as you approach. “This is Y/N.”

Maria’s gaze softens as it lands on you, and she extends a perfectly manicured hand. “It’s so lovely to finally meet you,” she says, her tone warm but measured.

Howard offers a nod, his smile faint but not unkind. “Tony’s told us a lot about you.”

Your stomach twists, but you manage a smile, hoping it looks more confident than you feel. “It’s nice to meet you both,” you say, your voice steady despite the nervous flutter in your chest.

Tony’s hand brushes yours, a small, reassuring gesture that grounds you in the moment. For now, it’s enough.

Maria’s handshake is delicate but firm, her presence somehow simultaneously inviting and intimidating. As she releases your hand, you see her eyes flicker toward Tony, a faint smile tugging at her lips. Howard’s nod is accompanied by a polite once-over, as if he’s quietly assessing you but doing so in a way that doesn’t feel overly critical. For all your nerves, the atmosphere is not as icy as you had feared. Yet you’re acutely aware of the importance of this moment—these people are more than Tony’s parents. They’re titans of industry, figures who seem untouchable from a distance, and now they’re looking at you like they’re ready to get to know you.

“So,” Maria says, her voice smooth and composed, “we’ve been hearing about you for months now. It’s lovely to finally put a face to the name.”

“It’s lovely to meet you too,” you reply, hoping your voice doesn’t betray the butterflies rioting in your stomach. “Tony speaks about you often as well.”

Tony lets out a short laugh beside you, clearly amused. “Not too much, I hope. Don’t want to ruin the mystique.”

Maria chuckles lightly, her sharp eyes twinkling with subtle amusement. “Oh, I think we can handle it. So, tell us a bit about yourself, dear. Where do you come from? What’s your family like?”

It’s a straightforward question, but it feels loaded under the circumstances. Still, you’re determined to make a good impression.

“Well, I’m from Midtown,” you begin, smoothing the fabric of your dress unconsciously. “My family’s pretty small—just me, my mom, and my younger brother. My mom works as a nurse, and my brother’s still in middle school.”

Maria’s smile doesn’t waver, and there’s a flicker of interest in her expression. “That must keep your mother very busy. Nursing is such an admirable profession.”

“It does,” you agree, your confidence bolstered by her genuine tone. “She works long hours, but she’s amazing. She’s always been my role model.”

Howard’s deep voice cuts in next, not unkind but more direct. “And what about you? Tony mentioned you’re quite the student. What are your plans after high school?”

You glance at Tony briefly, catching the way he’s watching you—there’s a quiet pride in his eyes, a silent encouragement that steadies your nerves. Turning back to Howard, you answer honestly.

“I’m planning to go to college,” you say. “I’ve applied to a few schools already. I’m hoping to major in environmental science… maybe engineering. I’ve always loved the idea of building things or coming up with solutions to problems.”

Maria tilts her head slightly, her smile deepening. “Engineering? That’s wonderful. And very fitting, given who you’re dating,” she teases lightly, her gaze sliding toward Tony.

Tony grins, unfazed. “What can I say? I’ve got a type. Brilliant and beautiful.”

You roll your eyes at his shamelessness, but Howard chuckles, his posture relaxing slightly. “Good answer,” he says, clearly pleased with his son’s response. He turns back to you. “Environmental science, though. That’s not the most common choice. Why that field?”

You take a deep breath, finding your footing as the conversation shifts into territory you’re passionate about. “I’ve always cared about the environment,” you say. “I think it’s one of the biggest challenges our generation will face. And I want to be part of the solution. Whether it’s renewable energy, conservation, or designing more sustainable technology… it feels like something that matters.”

Maria’s gaze softens, and she exchanges a look with Howard. There’s something unspoken between them, an understanding that passes with a single glance. When Maria speaks again, her voice is warm, almost approving.

“That’s a very admirable goal. And one that’s becoming more important by the day.”

Howard nods in agreement, his demeanor shifting slightly as if he’s already decided you’re worth listening to. “It’s good to hear someone your age thinking about the bigger picture. Too many people overlook that kind of thing.”

You smile, your nerves easing with each passing moment. Their approval feels genuine, not forced or obligatory, and it gives you the confidence to keep going.

“I think it helps to have people around who believe in you,” you say, glancing at Tony again. “He’s been a big part of that for me.”

Tony’s grin widens, and he slips an arm around your waist, pulling you a little closer. “Don’t let her fool you,” he says. “She’s the one with the brilliant ideas. I’m just lucky to be around to hear them.”

Maria’s laugh is soft, but her eyes are bright as she watches the two of you. “You two seem very good for each other. It’s always nice to see that kind of balance in a relationship.”

Howard’s voice carries a hint of approval as he adds, “Tony’s lucky to have found someone like you. I’m glad he has someone who’s keeping him grounded.”

The words catch you off guard, but they warm you from the inside out. It’s the kind of sentiment you’d hoped for but hadn’t dared to expect. Tony, for all his bravado, has always had a complicated relationship with his parents. Hearing his father speak so openly about his pride in Tony’s choices feels significant, like a rare glimpse into a side of their dynamic you don’t often see.

“I’m lucky too,” you say softly, meeting Howard’s eyes. “Tony’s brilliant. And he’s always pushing me to do better, to think bigger. I think that’s what makes us work so well together.”

Tony’s arm tightens around you briefly, and you catch the faintest hint of a blush creeping up his neck. It’s rare to see him speechless, but the pride in his expression is unmistakable.

Maria’s smile grows, and she steps forward, placing a gentle hand on your arm. “You’re a lovely young woman,” she says sincerely. “And it’s clear you mean a great deal to Tony. Thank you for joining us tonight.”

The warmth in her words makes your chest ache in the best way. You hadn’t realized how much you’d been craving their approval until now, but the genuine kindness in Maria’s tone makes it all the more meaningful.

“Thank you for having me,” you reply, your voice steady despite the swell of emotion. “It’s been a pleasure meeting you both.”

Howard steps forward then, offering his hand again. This time, his grip feels a touch more personal, less perfunctory. “Keep an eye on him for us,” he says, a glint of humor in his eyes. “Lord knows he needs it.”

Tony groans dramatically. “Okay, okay, that’s enough parental bonding. Can we go check out the snack table now?”

Maria laughs softly, waving you off with a graceful flick of her hand. “Go, enjoy yourselves. We’ll talk more later.”

Tony doesn’t need to be told twice. He takes your hand, leading you away from the crowd and toward the quieter corner of the expansive room. Once you’re out of earshot, he stops, turning to face you with a mischievous grin.

“So? How’d I do?”

You blink, caught off guard. “You? What do you mean?”

He leans in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “I mean, did I pick the right moment to introduce you? Were the lighting and ambiance sufficiently romantic? Did I sell my pitch as the proud boyfriend?”

You laugh, the last of your nerves melting away. “You were perfect, Stark. But your parents? They’re…”

“Scary? Intimidating? Too good at making you feel like they’re reading your mind?” he offers, grinning when you nod.

“A little,” you admit. “But they were also… really nice. I think it went well.”

Tony’s expression softens, his cocky façade dropping for a moment. “Of course it did. They’d have to be crazy not to love you.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “You’re such a sap.”

“Only for you,” he replies, his grin turning wicked. “Now, come on. Let’s grab some dessert before my dad ropes us into a conversation about corporate ethics.”

As he pulls you toward the snack table, his hand warm in yours, you realize that the evening is far from over—but for the first time, you’re not worried. Tony’s world may be big and overwhelming, but tonight, it feels like you belong there. And as you glance back to see Maria and Howard watching you both with quiet pride, you think they might just believe that too.

The grandeur of the Stark residence is even more overwhelming as the evening progresses. Every corner of the room seems to hold someone important, conversations buzzing with words like "stocks," "mergers," and "international markets." It’s a world you’re still adjusting to, and though Tony has never made you feel out of place, you can’t shake the occasional pang of self-consciousness.

Excusing yourself to the bathroom gives you a moment to breathe, away from the intensity of the crowd. You splash a little water on your wrists and smooth down your dress, giving yourself a pep talk in the mirror. You’ve already managed to win over his parents—something you hadn’t expected to happen so easily. Surely, you can handle the rest of the evening. After all, Tony is by your side.

When you step back into the main room, the sight of him immediately draws your attention. He’s standing near a sleek bar setup, surrounded by a small group of men in sharply tailored suits. Even in this crowd of CEOs and industry giants, Tony stands out. His confidence is palpable, his charisma effortlessly commanding the attention of those around him. You hesitate, unsure whether to approach. They’re deep in conversation, and the last thing you want is to interrupt or seem out of place.

For a moment, you consider waiting on the sidelines until the discussion wraps up. But as if sensing your presence, Tony glances up, his eyes finding yours almost instantly. A slow, warm smile spreads across his face, and he waves you over with a subtle beckon. The gesture feels intimate, personal—a quiet reassurance that no matter who he’s with, you’re always welcome.

As you approach, Tony’s smile deepens. When you’re close enough, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your cheek. “There you are,” he murmurs, his voice low but unmistakably fond.

One of the men in the circle clears his throat, and you notice his expression shift into something between surprise and discomfort. He’s older, probably in his fifties, with a thin mustache and a stiff posture that screams corporate formality.

“I wasn’t aware you had… company tonight, Stark,” the man says, his tone carefully measured.

Tony smirks, clearly unbothered. “This is my girlfriend,” he says simply, his arm slipping around your waist. The ease with which he says it sends a thrill through you, though the reaction from the group is mixed.

“Your girlfriend?” another man echoes, his brows lifting in surprise. He looks between you and Tony, as if trying to piece together a puzzle. “Forgive me for asking, but whose daughter are you?”

You blink, caught off guard by the question. “Oh, I’m not…” you begin, glancing at Tony for help.

“She’s not anyone’s daughter in this room, if that’s what you’re asking,” Tony interjects smoothly, his tone laced with just enough edge to make it clear he doesn’t appreciate the implication. “She’s here because she’s incredible, not because of her last name.”

The mustachioed man—Mr. Carmichael, you think you heard someone call him earlier—looks visibly taken aback. “I didn’t mean to suggest—”

Tony cuts him off with a light laugh, though there’s an unmistakable sharpness beneath it. “Relax, Carmichael. I get it. You thought I’d be interested in your pitch about your daughter. Honestly, I’m flattered, but as you can see, I’m pretty happy with my current situation.”

The color drains from Carmichael’s face, and the rest of the group shifts awkwardly, clearly unsure how to proceed. You feel a mix of emotions—embarrassment, yes, but also a fierce kind of pride. Tony’s confidence in you, his unwavering refusal to let anyone question your place by his side, makes you stand a little taller.

“I’m sorry,” you say quickly, trying to smooth over the tension. “I didn’t mean to interrupt your conversation.”

“You’re not interrupting,” Tony says firmly, giving you a reassuring squeeze. Then, addressing the group, he adds, “Actually, I think you guys might want to hear from her. She’s planning to study environmental science and engineering. Pretty smart, huh?”

The shift in the room is almost comical. Where moments ago they seemed skeptical, even dismissive, now their expressions are filled with curiosity.

“Environmental science?” one of them repeats, his tone suddenly much friendlier. “That’s an interesting field. Are you planning to focus on renewable energy?”

You nod, a little hesitant but grateful for the opportunity to steer the conversation into more comfortable territory. “That’s one of the areas I’m really interested in,” you say. “There’s so much potential for innovation, especially with the way technology is advancing. I think it’s one of the most important challenges we can address.”

The man—his name tag reads “Jameson”—nods thoughtfully. “Smart choice. The industry’s going to need more forward thinkers like you.”

“Thank you,” you say, the praise giving you a small boost of confidence.

“And you’re still in high school?” another man asks, his tone tinged with disbelief.

“Yes,” you admit. “Tony and I are in the same grade.”

Carmichael, who’s been uncharacteristically quiet, finally speaks up. “High school, and you’re already thinking about global challenges like that. That’s… impressive.”

You’re not sure if his approval is entirely genuine or if he’s simply trying to recover from his earlier misstep, but either way, you offer him a polite smile. “It’s something I’m passionate about. And I’m lucky to have people around me who encourage me to aim high.”

Tony beams at that, his pride in you practically radiating. “She’s underselling it,” he says. “She’s not just aiming high; she’s going to change the world.”

The men laugh, but it’s not mocking—it’s the kind of laugh that comes with genuine admiration. For the first time, you feel like you belong in this circle, like they’re starting to see you as more than just Tony’s girlfriend.

The conversation continues, flowing more easily now. They ask about your thoughts on sustainability, your experiences in school, and even your plans for college. With each question, you find yourself relaxing, the initial tension fading as you focus on the topics you’re passionate about. Tony stays by your side the whole time, chiming in occasionally with his trademark wit but mostly letting you shine.

At one point, Jameson leans closer to Tony and mutters something you can’t quite catch. Whatever it is, it makes Tony laugh—a genuine, delighted sound that makes your heart skip a beat.

When the group finally disperses, Carmichael offers you a polite nod. “It was a pleasure meeting you,” he says, his tone markedly more respectful than when the conversation began.

“You too,” you reply, feeling a small sense of victory as he walks away.

Once you’re alone with Tony, he turns to you with a grin. “See? Told you they’d love you.”

You roll your eyes, though you can’t hide your smile. “I think they were just surprised. They probably expected you to be dating someone… different.”

Tony raises an eyebrow. “Different how?”

“I don’t know. Someone from their world, I guess.”

He shakes his head, his expression turning serious. “You don’t have to be from their world to belong in it. You’re amazing, and if they can’t see that, it’s their loss.”

The sincerity in his voice makes your chest tighten. You lean into him, letting his warmth and confidence steady you. “Thank you,” you say softly.

“For what?” he asks, his tone lightening again.

“For making me feel like I belong here,” you admit. “Even when I’m not sure I do.”

Tony presses a quick kiss to your forehead. “You don’t just belong here,” he says. “You make this place better. Don’t ever forget that.”

As the evening continues, you find yourself settling into the rhythm of it all. The grandeur of the event doesn’t feel quite so intimidating anymore, and every time you catch Tony’s eye, you’re reminded of why you’re here. In his world, by his side, you feel like you truly belong.

The night unfolds in a swirl of laughter, conversation, and the occasional clink of glasses. You find yourself more comfortable now, moving through the party with Tony’s reassuring presence at your side. The grandiose world of the Starks—one that had once felt so intimidating—begins to feel a little more approachable. With Tony holding your hand or whispering jokes into your ear at every turn, it feels like you’re in on some kind of secret.

Eventually, you find yourselves slipping away from the crowd. The party hums on in the background, the faint strains of a string quartet mingling with the murmur of voices and the distant pop of champagne corks. Tony leads you down a quieter hallway, away from the main rooms, until you’re standing in front of a set of tall windows that overlook the sprawling grounds of the estate.

“Needed a breather?” you tease as he presses his forehead to the cool glass.

He glances at you, grinning. “I thought you might need one. Not that you weren’t killing it back there, but, you know, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to step away from the CEOs and their unsolicited opinions.”

You laugh softly, crossing your arms as you lean against the window beside him. “It’s not as bad as I thought it would be. I think I actually had fun.”

Tony straightens, his expression softening as he looks at you. “I knew you’d be amazing. I don’t think there’s anyone who can’t see it.”

You roll your eyes, but your smile betrays your attempt to brush off the compliment. “You’re biased.”

“Absolutely,” he admits without hesitation. “But that doesn’t make it any less true.”

The glow from the lights outside casts his features in a warm hue, and for a moment, you lose yourself in the way he’s looking at you. There’s a tenderness there that makes your chest ache in the best way—a feeling that no matter how big his world is, you’ll always have a place in it.

“What about you?” you ask, breaking the silence. “Do you ever feel like you need a breather from all… this?”

He tilts his head, considering the question. “Sometimes. But you make it easier. When you’re here, it feels less like a circus and more like…” He trails off, his lips quirking into a wry smile. “I don’t know. Like it’s something I actually want to be part of.”

Your heart skips a beat at his honesty. “Tony Stark, are you saying I make you want to behave?”

“Let’s not go crazy,” he says with a laugh, though there’s a glimmer of seriousness in his eyes. “But yeah. You keep me grounded. And you remind me that there’s more to life than just impressing a room full of people.”

He reaches for your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. For a while, you stand there together, watching the stars outside and enjoying the rare quiet moment. The faint sounds of the party drift down the hall, but here, it feels like it’s just the two of you.

“Do you think we’ll still be doing this ten years from now?” you ask suddenly, the question slipping out before you can think too much about it.

Tony doesn’t hesitate. “I hope so. But maybe not this.” He gestures vaguely toward the distant murmur of the party. “Something better. Something ours.”

You glance at him, surprised by the depth of his response. “Ours?”

“Yeah,” he says, his tone casual but his gaze steady. “Like, I don’t know… maybe a New Year’s Eve on a beach somewhere. Or in some cabin in the mountains. Just us. No suits, no CEOs. Just you and me.”

The thought makes your cheeks warm. “That sounds… perfect.”

He grins, leaning in to press a soft kiss to your temple. “Then we’ll make it happen.”

For a while, you stay tucked away in your little corner, stealing a moment that feels like it belongs entirely to you. Tony tells you a ridiculous story about one of his father’s business trips, and you counter with a memory from a summer vacation when you and your brother tried to camp in your backyard but got scared off by a raccoon. You laugh until your sides hurt, your voices low and close in the quiet hallway.

As the clock ticks closer to midnight, Tony reluctantly pulls you back toward the main event. The energy in the room has shifted, the hum of anticipation building as the new year approaches. Guests gather in clusters, glasses of sparkling cider in hand, their conversations a little louder and their laughter a little freer.

Tony finds a spot near the center of the room, his hand never leaving yours as he leads you to stand by his side. The two of you are surrounded by a sea of faces, but all you can focus on is him.

“Two minutes to go,” he murmurs, glancing down at you with a small smile. “You ready?”

“For the new year?” you ask, feigning nonchalance. “I guess.”

He nudges you gently. “For everything. This year, next year… all of it.”

Your breath catches at the weight of his words, but before you can respond, the countdown begins.

“Ten! Nine!”

The voices swell around you, and you feel Tony’s hand tighten slightly around yours.

“Eight! Seven! Six!”

You glance up at him, and the way he’s looking at you makes the rest of the room fade away.

“Five! Four!”

Your heart pounds in your chest, each second stretching out as the moment draws closer.

“Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!”

The room erupts in cheers, the sound of voices and clinking glasses filling the air. But all you notice is Tony as he leans in, his free hand cupping your cheek as his lips meet yours. It’s a kiss that feels like a promise—a declaration that no matter what the new year brings, you’ll face it together.

When he finally pulls back, his forehead rests lightly against yours, and his voice is soft, just for you. “Happy New Year, sweetheart.”

“Happy New Year,” you whisper back, your cheeks warm and your heart full.

The noise around you gradually fades into the background as the two of you share a quiet moment in the middle of the bustling crowd.

“So,” Tony says, his tone lighter now, “what’s your resolution?”

You think for a moment before answering. “To keep chasing my dreams. And to make sure we never lose sight of ours.”

He smiles, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I like that. Mine’s to make sure you know how proud I am of you every single day. And… maybe to be a little less reckless.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Maybe?”

He laughs, the sound warm and familiar. “Hey, I’m a work in progress.”

You shake your head, but your smile lingers. “We’ll figure it out together.”

“Always,” he says, his voice filled with quiet certainty.

The two of you stand there for a while longer, watching as the party continues around you. People laugh, toast, and embrace, the room alive with celebration. But in your little bubble, it feels like the world has stopped.

As the night winds down, Tony pulls you close, his arm draped around your shoulders as you lean against him. The future feels vast and uncertain, but with him by your side, you’re not afraid. Together, you’ll face whatever comes next—one dream, one resolution, and one New Year’s kiss at a time.

[starkwlkr]

Hi

It's ok if the request got deleted no need to say sorry,

Can u pls make a fic about papa nolan finding out about cillian and physicist!reader's relationship,

Like would he be angry or accepting, i was wondering

And then if u r comfortable with it then a time jump to the wedding or pregnancies

I would really like to know his reactions!!

This is really just a follow up to another anon request (which u made a fic on) and had this idea

Anyway so sorry for the long request

Have an awesome day ahead!!!!

nolan!reader x cillian murphy headcanons

I’m going to make these headcanons if that’s ok 🫶🏼🫶🏼 and i think i got carried away but who cares 😌

Ok so obviously y/n and cillian met in the early 2000s (you can make up how they met)

papa nolan knows that y/n is talking to a boy but he doesn’t know it’s mr. ‘my eyes aren’t even that blue’ so when y/n tells papa nolan that her bf is coming over for dinner, he’s preparing to meet so douche bag who says his favorite movie is pulp fiction or fight club (nothing wrong with that, but the film bros make me want to gauge my eyes out)

anyways, cillian shows up and ofc they get along great <3

after cillian and y/n are now OFFICIAL official obviously the press asks about what papa nolan thinks and if they get along

y/n and cillian are just the it couple of the 2000s like they’re on the cover of every magazine with those cheesy headlines ‘she’s got the beauty AND the brains’

literally any interview cillian or papa nolan do, they ramble about y/n and how proud they are of her

and you know how it goes, first comes love then comes marriage then comes y/n with a baby carriage🤍💍🍼 butttttt our fav nepo baby and Irish man don’t do it in that order bc my girl y/n got pregnant with their first baby in 2003 and she’s named alexandria

papa nolan is so excited about the birth of baby alex and he always offers to babysit whenever even if he’s busy

baby alex and papa nolan are my favorite duo 🫶🏼

eventually cillian and papa nolan work together on batman begins and you bet that baby alex is always on set

papa nolan at first did not want to bring her because he thought alex would be scared but she loved being on set and meeting everyone

her and christian bale become besties by the end of filming 🤞🏼

baby alex got to say the last “cut!” and everyone laughed because of how cute she sounded

bonus: cillian tried to get her to put the scarecrow mask on but she thought it was yucky (her exact words)

y/n and cillian don’t have kids until like 2014 because they were busy with work obviously like cillian getting movie roles and y/n being at work 24/7 and getting a literal nobel peace prize but eventually she does get pregnant and BAM it’s twins

it’s 2014 and they’re still not married (it happens ya know just ask academy award winner michelle yeoh)

but y/n gets pregnant and she wants to wait until the twins’ birth and then get married

but anyways the murphy twins arrive and papa nolan just cries happy tears because he now has more grandchildren to love and spoil whenever he wants to (they’re named scarlett and wyatt and papa nolan gives them nicknames idk what they would be but go wild with your imagination besties 🫶🏼)

papa nolan just wants to see his daughter get married and see her happy with her new family 🫶🏼

the day of the wedding comes and baby alex is the flower girl and steals the show

it’s a private wedding BUT that doesn’t stop it from being the most famous wedding of 2014

ofc christian bale is there like who doesn’t want batman at their wedding?? tom hardy, best man um yes?! peaky blinders cast, jake gyllenhaal (swifties, don’t hate me, I love jake and he’s one of my favorite actors)

jessica chastain and anne hathaway ofc they’re invited

u know if heath ledger was still alive he would def be invited 🫶🏼

I’m picturing the kids having career day at their schools and each kid takes an adult like papa nolan goes to alex’s school, wyatt takes y/n and cillian goes with scarlett and every adult is just like “fuck, how am i supposed to go on after them?!”

papa nolan goes all out with his presentation for career day like he even called hans zimmer and christian bale to impress the kids (obviously hans zimmer would impress the teachers, not the kids but some kids recognize the music from batman movies so let’s just go with it)

twitter loves the murphy-nolan fam 🫶🏼

no bc i just imagine the edits to beautiful boy with dad!cillian and I’m bawling

ok ok flashforward to 2023 and oppenheimer is coming out and twitter gets more content on the murphy-nolan fam

y/n finally does an interview bc she worked with the cast and taught them about ✨science✨

Y/N AND CILLIAN AT THE OPPENHEIMER PREMIERE AND THEN PAPA NOLAN PHOTOBOMBING THEIR PICS

overall the murphy-nolan fam has my heart and surprise! the murphy kids watched barbie because the twins are not even old enough to watch oppenheimer and I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t want to watch their dad have fake s e x with another woman (FLORENCE PUGH ILY)

[zepskies]

Never Say Goodbye - Part 4

Pairing: Dean x Female Reader 

Summary: The first time you and Dean sensed each other’s thoughts and feelings, you were just kids. It would take years to realize that you both were bonded for life, and even longer to finally meet. [Soulmate AU] (Rated M for eventual scenes �� 18+)

Word Count: 4,400 Warnings: Language, cliffhangers (lol). 

Part 4: Guessing Game

The next morning was a Wednesday. Despite the monumental, life-changing things that happened yesterday, unfortunately, you still had to go to work. You also had three class finals to finish.

Still, you woke invigorated with a new energy you had never felt before because you had finally, finally met your soulmate.

…Okay, not so much met him, but at least you had shared a telepathic conversation! That still counted!

…No matter how actually insane that sounded.

So you got ready for your day with an added pep in your step. You dressed “work casual”: white blouse tucked into a black skirt, tights because of the cold, black boots, and your favorite red winter coat. It hung to about your knees, so it would protect your legs. You even had the energy to put on some makeup and style your hair a little, fixing the frizzy kinks into some smoother waves down your back.

You looked into the mirror and you felt proud of your reflection. Not just how you looked, but of how you were able to carry yourself with your head held high. 

With your purse and books gathered, you ventured downstairs and found your dad already puttering through the kitchen. You accepted the mug of coffee he offered and sipped at it while you packed a lunch.

Hmm, getting low on groceries. I’ll have to swing by the store on the way home, you thought.

There was one other thing that snagged in your mind, and that was having to reschedule your visit with Bobby. After you “hung up” with your soulmate (who frustratingly refused to give you his name yet), you realized how late it was and called your uncle for a rain check. But you fully intended to keep your word and visit him today, after work.

Now, you eyed your dad as he read the paper at the small kitchen nook. You took your coffee and sat down across from him (you still had a few minutes before you had to leave). 

“How’s the world?” you asked him, nodding at the newspaper.

“Great,” he replied dryly. “Just one big dumpster fire.”

The corner of your mouth quirked upwards. “Any local flames?”

Jack sighed and lowered the paper, meeting her eyes. “Unfortunately, yes. You carry pepper spray, don’t you?”

You nodded. “Of course.”  

“And your handgun? Where’d you put it?” he asked. You frowned. 

Your father was a cop and this was the Midwest. You did have a concealed carrier’s permit, but you weren’t allowed to have your gun on you at school, so you typically stored it in the nightstand by your bed. Jack knew that.

“What’s going on?” you asked. 

“There’s been a series of home invasions across town, two of them in our neighborhood,” he said, giving you a firm look. “Watch yourself when you leave the house, when you head to your car, when you leave campus.”

“I know, Dad,” you replied. “By the way…are you planning on going to see Mom today? I didn’t get a chance to go yesterday, so we could go together if you want.”

You were attempting to lend an olive branch after yesterday’s argument. Jack, however, wasn’t getting the hint. 

“I can’t.” He shook his head and tapped at the newspaper headline. “I’m actually heading this case…most of these have been what we call ‘push-ins.’”

“What’s a push-in?” you asked. You could guess, but you didn’t like how serious your dad was right now.

“Let’s say someone knocks at the door. You’re not expecting anyone, not even the pizza guy. What do you do?” Jack asked. 

“Check who it is through the peephole,” you answer.

“What if your door doesn’t have one?”

This was easy. Your father had drilled this into you since you were eight years old. “Ask who it is through the door. Don’t open it unless you know them, or unless you can smell pizza through the door crack.”

“Good. Most people will just open the door without checking,” Jack said. “The guy shoves his way in and attacks you. That’s a push-in.”

Goddamn. You didn't know there was a name for that. 

“And how many of these have happened so far?” you asked.

“Four that we know of,” he replied. “It hasn’t hit the news yet but…Mrs. Jenkins was killed last night. We found the poor thing literally clutching her pearls.”

You blanched, setting down your coffee. Shock hit you first, then sadness. Mrs. Jenkins was the sweet old lady who used to make cookies for Sunday school when you were a kid. She’d given you $50 for college textbooks when you graduated from high school, and then flowers when you graduated with your bachelor’s degree. 

Your eyes burned with emotion. “I can’t believe it. He was after her pearls?”

“I imagine she didn’t want to give ‘em up,” Jack said. “Or she held on out of reflex. When you’re afraid, logic tends to fly out the window.”

You understood that, but you couldn’t believe she’d died for her jewelry. You rubbed the silver ring on your right hand and rationalized to yourself. You knew you could give up your mom’s ring if it meant the difference between that and a bullet in your brain.

Your dad was still telling you to be careful when you left the house that morning. He only nagged and rode your ass about your future career because he cared. You knew that. But the nagging was a test of your ever-thinning patience. 

Once you got on the road, you had an hour to kill on your commute. Then a flash of an idea occurred to you, making you smile. With a deep breath, you sought that thread of energy inside your mind. You didn’t know if this would work. It wouldn’t be long until you were driving away from Sioux Falls and headed to Vermillion, but you hoped the connection would win out.

The thread brightened with your focus on it, and suddenly you could feel him. Your soulmate. 

Good morning, sleepyhead, you greeted cheerfully. His response was more sluggish.

No, it ain’t.  

His grumpy voice made you laugh. Aw, someone’s grouchy in the morning.

This lumpy couch killed my back, he complained. And I could hear my brother’s snoring from downstairs.

So he had a brother. That was an interesting tidbit of information you’d save for later. You smiled. 

You’re a cute grouch.

Excuse me, princess. I’m not a “cute” anything. He sounded mildly offended, but you sensed he was just as amused as you. 

So what’s your brother’s name? you asked.

He hesitated, but eventually he replied, His name’s Sam. 

Okay, so his brother’s name was safe, but his name had to be a mystery. And his job. That annoyed you, though you supposed it was part of the game.

What’re you up to? he asked. 

On my way to work. 

Oh, yeah? What do you do?

Even though you shook your head at the hypocrisy of his question, you decided to answer honestly. Well, I’m finishing up grad school next semester. This week is finals, then we break until January. But I also work part-time for one of my professors as her assistant.

Look at you, he said with a whistle. Beauty and brains.

You quirked a smile. If only your dad were that impressed. Technically you haven’t confirmed the “beauty” bit. I could be a potato with legs for all you know.

You sensed rather than heard his laughter.

Nah, a voice that sexy can’t be Potato Girl. 

You blushed up to your ears at that one. No one had ever described your voice that way. Quiet, mousy yes—and mainly by Dr. Birch—but never sexy.

Your soulmate was definitely a flirt, if nothing else. 

Hmm, you had that line locked and loaded, didn’t you?

Nope. That was fresh, sweetheart, he said. I’m just that creative. 

Sure, you laughed again. It’s already 9:00 a.m. Don’t you have somewhere to be?

Yeah, now that you mention it. I’ve gotta get going to work too.

That was disappointing, but at least you’d learned something new. Your soulmate wasn’t a morning person, and he had a brother.

Do you and your brother both have the same mystery job?

…Yeah, actually. We work together, he said. Good question, Nancy Drew. 

Yes! You smiled in triumph. 

You made a few more guesses about his job: police officer, teacher, leader of a biker gang—all of which were apparently wrong. 

But keep ‘em comin’, he said. You’ll get it eventually.

You let out an annoyed huff. But then you felt his amusement, like he was genuinely enjoying himself while talking with you. That warmed you up enough for now.

After a long day at the university, you relished coming home knowing you only had two more days until winter break. 

You stopped at the grocery store on the way home, like you’d planned, but now you regretted it. There were only two cashiers open despite a packed store. Ugh. Just my luck.

You chose the one that didn’t have a screaming child throwing his mother’s apples out of the cart, but you did stop to help her pick them up. 

“Thanks, hun,” she said tiredly. You nodded with a sympathetic smile.

“How old is he?” you asked.

“Two and a half,” she said. You tried to hide your reaction, but she gave a wry smile and returned to her child.

Good luck, you wanted to say, but you kept that yourself and returned to your cart. As the line inched forward, you wondered if you wanted kids. 

Never really thought about it before, you could admit. You supposed there was a lot to consider, but maybe most importantly: It has to be with the right person.

You wondered if your soulmate was that person, or if having kids one day (or not) was going to be a dealbreaker for him.

Then you snorted, shaking your head. Okay, you’re getting very ahead of yourself. You haven’t even met the man.

“Hey, look who it is!” 

The cashier’s voice startled you from your thoughts. When you broke out of your reverie, you realized you were at the front of the line, and Danny Schmitt was once again your checkout guy. Part of you withered, but you tried at a polite smile as you busied yourself by emptying your cart on the conveyer belt. “Hey, Danny. How’re you doing?”

“Been good. And yourself? You look good,” he said. He wasn’t very discreet about checking you out. You blushed, but more from discomfort than flattery. 

“Thanks,” you said, a bit awkwardly, and started bagging the groceries he rang up.

“What have you been up to?” he asked. “Every time I see you, you’re dressed up like you’re goin’ to a Broadway show or something.”

Broadway? You glanced down at your work casual blouse and skirt. To the movie theater, maybe. Less Mamma Mia and more Magic Mike.  

“I like it though. Skirt and boots, always a sexy combo,” Danny said, and gave you a wink. You had no doubt that many a girl had swooned at the move, but you were less charmed and more annoyed. You finished bagging your stuff and paid with your credit card in silence.

The high school version of yourself would’ve blushed at Danny’s attention. After stapling his fingers together in freshman year, he’d gone through a growth spurt the next. He’d joined the wrestling team, and paired with his light blonde hair and square jaw, the girls hadn’t stopped stumbling over themselves to get with him. 

After high school, though, Danny didn’t get that sports scholarship for college. It also looked like he didn’t have the drive for anything else, either. He’d worked this same job at the Piggly Wiggly since you graduated six years ago.

All right, check your privilege, you reminded yourself, feeling guilty for judging him. Not everyone’s cut out for college. You don’t even know exactly what you want to do with your life.

“Have a good one,” he said, handing you the receipt. “And hey, let me know if you want to get a coffee sometime, or dinner. Flannigan’s has a two-for-one special on beer pitchers…I’ll pay. Or, you know, we could split it. You know, equality and all that. Hell, even you could pay if you wanted to.” He laughed.

Tempting, you thought. Though you’d have to remember about that two-for-one special. Uncle Bobby might want to make that your beer pilgrimage tonight.

“You know, I’ve been pretty busy lately,” you said, trying your best at a smile. “But I’ll let you know!”

Maybe it was rude of you, but you didn’t give him a chance to reply as you took your cart and waved goodbye.

Bobby welcomed you into his home, with what could only be described as a “gruff smile.” You shed your winter coat, but finding no hooks on the wall, you just draped it over the back of the living room couch.

“Come in,” he beckoned with a hand. “Don’t mind the mess. I was just finishing up some…work.”

Indeed, there were several books strewn across the coffee table, the dining table, the little accent table next to the couch—basically every available space in the living room was covered with books, manuscripts, and loose papers. Your eyes scanned over some of them. Raising a brow, you picked up one of the books. 

“Omens, Trials, and Tribulations: A Guided Study on the Book of Revelation,” you read, and gave Bobby a curious look. “Doing some light reading alongside the New King James?” 

Bobby shrugged. “It’s a hobby.”

Somehow you didn’t think that was the whole story, but you smiled in amusement. Then you noticed some rumpled bed sheets on the couch, a green duffle bag dumped on the floor. 

“Do you have someone staying over? Should I come back another day?” you asked.

“Nah, I’ve got a couple of knuckleheads staying over, but they’re not here right now,” he said. “I sent them to work on somethin’.”

“Oh, towing a car for you?” you asked. 

“More like, checking out a possible job,” he explained, though that didn’t really explain anything at all. It left you even more curious as you got the sense he was leaving something out again, but you didn’t press it. Instead, you followed him into the kitchen.

“Want a beer?” he asked.

“That’s why I’m here,” you joked. “Dad drinks ‘em like a fish. By the time I get home, the fridge is damn-near empty.”

“How is he?” Bobby handed you the beer and you took it gratefully. 

“He’s the same. Buried in cases. I made him something before I left, for when he gets home,” you replied. Then you sighed and sat down at the two-seater table in the kitchen. “He didn’t even go to visit Mom on the anniversary.”

Just then, you realized something. You hadn’t actually visited Mom either, because you’d been distracted…hearing your soulmate’s thoughts for the first time. 

Damn it… 

Well, in this case your mom would probably forgive you, but you felt guilty all the same. You slid your ring around your finger absently.

Bobby sat across from you at the table. “The past can be a hard thing to let go of, but the real bitch of it is, it’s also hard remembering.”

You nodded in agreement. 

“How’re you doin’ then?” he asked. Instead of a customary fine, or busy, you actually thought about it. 

“Yesterday…I don’t know. I felt stuck. Like, I was hanging onto the train but I wasn’t in the driver’s seat,” you admitted. “Today, I woke up and things were different.”

“That’s specific,” Bobby remarked. You shot him a wry smile. 

“I don’t know. I’ve spent a long time just, like…trudging through the snow. Trying to keep the flurries out of my eyes,” you said. “But for the first time, I feel like I can see the sun, you know? There’s a reason to hope things might change. Like something good is coming my way.”

Bobby’s mouth lifted into a subtle grin. “Very poetic. You should think about writin’ for Hallmark.” 

You uttered an incredulous laugh. “All right. See if I pour my heart out to you again. God.”

“My apologies, princess,” Bobby said dryly. “Okay. In all seriousness, you’ve got a lot goin’ for ya, kid. You’ve got a right to be optimistic.”

You nodded with a superior smile. “Thank you.”  

“Listen, I’ve got a lasagna waiting in the oven. You want any part of that?” he asked. 

Your uncle was asking if you wanted to stay for dinner. You considered it and realized he was trying to connect with you. It wasn’t the first time he’d offered, and you regretted declining his loose invitations in the past. 

“Sure,” you said. “Lasagna sounds great.”

“All right.” He nodded. “Gimme a sec.”

 You had never understood the seemingly one-sided animosity between your dad and your uncle. Sure, Bobby was known as the town drunk. He’d gotten arrested a few times for publicly intoxicated antics, but he wasn’t belligerent. He wasn’t a bad man by any means. 

“You know, speaking of Italian. I like making spaghetti and meatballs, the latter from scratch,” you said. “Maybe I could make some next time.”

Bobby glanced over at you with a bit of surprise. “Uh…sure.”

You smiled. 

Later, as you and Bobby shared a meal together, you caught up on safe subjects, like how his business was going. He likewise asked you about your job. You admitted Dr. Birch was driving you up the wall this week. She’d asked you to grade two more of her classes’ final exams, putting you behind on your thesis draft. 

But then you drew enough courage to delve into not-so-safe subjects.

“All right, I’ve gotta know,” you said. “Why the hell did you and my dad fall out, Bobby? What is this thing?”

Bobby looked very reluctant. “It’s complicated.”

You stared back at him for a moment. Curiosity was eating at you, but you didn’t want to push either. Today was going well. Maybe it was better not to spoil it. 

“Complicated,” you echoed, smiling ruefully. “Right.”

After you two finished dinner and the dishes were cleared, you thanked Bobby and surprised him with a hug. His arms came around you briefly before you both let go, just a little awkwardly. 

You put on your coat and headed out the door, until his voice stopped you on the porch. 

“Look, regardless of where your dad and I stand, you’re family,” Bobby said. “You’re always welcome here.”

You gave a warm smile. “Thanks, Uncle Bobby.”

Then you returned to your Camaro and drove away from Singer Salvage, waving to his through your window as you went. 

You made a left at the main road going west, so you didn’t see the black Impala come in from the east road, turning into Bobby’s driveway.

“What were those smooth wheels doing pulling out of this junk heap?” Dean jabbed a thumb behind him as he and Sam came into the house. They’d gotten nothing from that potential lead on John Winchester’s whereabouts, and neither of them were in a great mood. But the smell of food cheered up both of them, especially Dean.

“What?” Bobby asked.

“That blue ’93 Camaro Z28 that just peeled outta here. She was nice,” Dean said. Sam glanced at him, impressed. Dean smirked, an Aw, yeah, I know my shit kind of look.

Bobby smiled in amusement. “My niece stopped by for dinner.”

Sam shared a look of mild surprise with Dean, who said, “That’s a shame. Would’ve liked to meet her.”

Bobby shot him a warning look. “Down, boy. Like you need any help findin’ dance partners.” 

Dean grinned. Sam nearly rolled his eyes. 

“The lead didn’t pan out,” Sam said. “So we’re gonna head out in the morning, if that’s all right.”

“Fine,” Bobby shrugged. “Drink my beer, eat my food, and run up my water bill. Just do me a favor and clean up after yourselves. I don’t need a roach infestation.” 

“What, don’t you think the rats need company?” Dean teased. Bobby raised a warning finger at him, making Dean hold back a laugh.

Bobby went upstairs for bed soon after, and Dean gave Sam first shower this time. It was good timing too…

Dean realized he could hear his soulmate again. 

 You were rocking out to a Billy Joel song.

He smirked. Figures.

As you drove home blasting “We Didn’t Start the Fire,” you chanted along with the long verses, sometimes forgetting words, sometimes stumbling and saying them wrong. But you came in strong with the part you knew: We didn’t start the fiiire. It was always buuurnin’ since the world’s been tuuurnin’—

Figures, your soulmate’s voice cut through everything else. It almost startled you, but feeling his amusement made you blush hotly. 

He laughed, and it was a rich sound that made something flutter in your stomach. 

Sorry. Didn’t mean to interrupt the performance. But come on, ‘80s pop?

You scoffed. All right, Mr. Power Ballad. Billy Joel is pop rock.

Gotta say, I expected better from you, sweetheart, he teased.

Ugh, you sound like such an old man. Tell me you don’t just listen to mullet rock, you rejoined. 

All right. Let’s take an inventory, shall we? he challenged. ACDC. Led Zeppelin. Boston.

You made a face as you continued to drive through your hometown. You knew these streets like the back of your hand, even in the pitch black of eleven at night. 

Yes to Zeppelin. The other two are…loud, you said. You heard him sigh, but he accepted this.

Fine, how about Hendrix?

Absolutely. You smiled. I take your Hendrix and raise you Prince and Beyonce.

Prince, yes. You can keep Beyonce, he said. Sorry, I’m not Team BeyHive.

You chortled in response. The fact that you know what that means give me hope. At least you’re aware that you live in the 2000s. 

Whatever. I was raised on two things: classic rock and the open road.

His grumpiness was entertaining, but this gave you an excellent opportunity to play your little game.

The open road, huh? Are you some kind of traveling salesman? you asked.

Definitely not.

Hmm. Perhaps he sensed your frustration. He surprised you by giving you a hint.

Travel is part of it though.

Aha! I knew it.

Oh yeah? How?

This morning you said you were sleeping on a couch, you began. You typically don’t do that if you’re not at home in your bed. So I could assume you were traveling, and you had to work today. But I didn’t know you had to travel often for work until you just said it.

You felt proud of your deductive reasoning. So now I know that you and your brother have the same job. It’s unlikely you live in Sioux Falls. And you travel often for work.

Dean whistled lowly. Damn, girl. Somehow you’re reminding me of Sam right now…what are you studying again?

You noted a brief tendril of sadness from him, being quickly brushed off. You didn’t dwell on it, but you would make a mental note of it for later, maybe.

History, you replied.

Oh, okay. Gonna be a teacher or something?

I…don’t really know yet. I’ve been scoping out jobs…

You’ve almost got two degrees and you don’t know what you wanna do with ‘em?

All right, that was hitting a nerve. 

“You know what? Don’t change the subject!” you said. Realizing you said that out loud, you made sure to think it at him this time.

You don’t live in Sioux Falls right? Or South Dakota even? you added.

Look at you go, little miss detective, he replied. You thought he enjoyed teasing you a bit too much. No, I don’t live here. But a family friend does.

Okay, so that narrowed it down to everything.

You turned the street corner into your neighborhood. The streetlights were sparse here ever since the last snowstorm knocked them out. Your dad had talked about installing ground lights in the front lawn for years, but he’d never gotten around to it. His job was too demanding to take care of much at home, which left you with most of the responsibility. Sometimes you wondered how your mom did it…

Anyway, back to the game. 

Plumber, electrician, flight attendant? You guessed. You had a feeling from the way he talked about your schooling that he hadn’t gone to college. You didn’t mind that. If this stupid game was anything to go by, it sounded like he had an interesting way of making a living. 

Nope to all three, especially the last one. Ugh.

Goddamn it. Okay, do you own a business?

You could say that. It’s a family business, he said. There was a playful note to this voice, as if he was dancing around the truth.

Dear Lord. All right, a family business… 

It was probably something small-scale. A diner? Hardware store? 

It’s not a physical store. More like a…a service.

You were getting warmer! With a smile, you made your way down your street and pulled your car into the driveway. Surprise, surprise, your dad wasn’t home yet.

Got it. You nodded. Okay, truck driver. Service engineer, electrician…oh shit, I said that earlier. Hmm…exterminator?

You grabbed your purse and finally got out of your car. You’d made it all the way to your front door when you realized that your soulmate had gone quiet. You sensed he was thinking, contemplating. 

You nearly bounced in excitement as you unlocked the door to your house. I’m right, aren’t I? Which one?

After stepping inside and closing the door behind you, you turned on the hallway and living room lights. 

The last one, he said at last. You paused in your excitement, your brows furrowed.

Exterminator. Really? That was curious. Who’d ever heard of a traveling exterminator? Like rats and stuff?

And stuff, he said with a chuckle, but somehow you knew it was hollow. You frowned, until you looked into the living room and noticed something weird. 

A black duffel bag that didn’t look like your dad’s. You don’t remember it being there this morning either. 

Hey, you okay? he asked. You realized that he was probably sensing your confusion. You headed toward the duffel bag. 

Yeah, I just got home—

The moment you set down your purse on the coffee table, a hand closed over your mouth and muffled your scream. 

AN: Yay, cliffhangers! (I promise they'll meet in the next chapter lol.)

Also, I just want to say THANK YOU to all of you reading, reblogging, commenting, etc. I didn't think this little fic would generate that much interest, but getting your feedback is inspiring me to write more!

Keep reading: Part 5.

Series Masterlist

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Main Masterlist

@curlycarley @buckywenal24 @jamerlynn @iprobablyshipit91 @globetrotter28 @deamus-liv @irgendwas122 @deans-spinster-witch @dogbarkbark4445

[tiramisuucakeee]

1. BLACK MAMBA

IN WHICH: in a world where humans can synk with their æ, there is suddenly a huge synk out, and the real world can no longer communicate with the flat world for the longest time. what happens when you finally receive a synk message from æ-yn?

chapter one !

"l'existence précède l'essence" is a central motto of existentialism meaning that existence precedes essence. this means that man exists first, emerges in the world and then defines himself. this phrase inverts the traditional philosophical view that the essence of a thing is more fundamental than its existence.

æ is formed, based on all the data that you have uploaded and interacted everywhere, whether it’s pictures, music, websites, or videos. it is formed into something very much like yourself.

but just because it’s made of your data, doesn’t mean it’s you. though it comes incredibly close in your case. you have always thought about yourself as transparent. you are online how you are offline, hotheaded, to your own ideas.

though you had to admit that, you are never going to keep being that same y/n you are now, with time, people change. and what worried you, is that your æ wouldn’t.

“ningning?- ah!-” you tumbled to the ground, as she threw herself to you, a bit too excited, you had to say. she grabbed you by the shoulders, forcing you to sit correctly.

“are you crazy? bike race?!” she exclaimed.

your eyes widened when she pointed to the tv behind her, where the news of a girl racing police through the city on her motorcycle made the headlines, after escaping an illegal race.

“what, me? you think she looks like me?” you scoffed, pushing yourself off of the ground, helping your friend up.

ninging wore something that could describe her personality, artistic and expressive. the latter was something she did show off a lot.

“i do think so,” ningning crossed her arms, tapping her foot on the marble floor.

your arms dropped, as you dragged yourself next to the big screen, almost feeling proud about it. “see? her technique is all wrong, she looks too… rushed?”

“yes because you were escaping from the police, anyone would feel rushed,” she rose her brows at you, making it almost impossible to say something back.

“in my opinion,” you heard a voice behind you. completely forgetting your devices had familiarity with ningning electronics, from all the bluetooth connections in the past.

æ-yn floated on the screen, imitating your movements, as she got replaced on the video, and was now riding your bike. “she looks really cool, nothing like y/n,” she slid on your helmet.

“and you look really dumb now, just because you’re æ-yn, it doesn’t mean you can be as good as me with these things,” you replied back, pettily, making her gasp. ningning let out a laugh at your banter, finding funny how her relationship with æ-ninging was much different to yours.

“you two are a handful,” she sighed, and then remembered what she was doing. “oh! y/n, i need you to get some things for me to this one person who bought my art,” she ran off in some direction, her little boot-heels clicking on the floor.

you looked at your æ with a confused face, and she only shrugged. it was almost like you were the official errand girl, all because you had a quick ride.

“here, woah!” she came back with a handful of canvases, all of different sizes, almost tripping on air, but being able to catch herself.

“what if i say no,” you groaned, looking at your æ for some backup, but she only shrugged, and disappeared, leaving you with this problem.

“you can’t,” ningning poked her head from the side, her entire upper body being covered by paintings, “you already promised.” she sang.

“i did?” you scrunched your nose, “but what about the thing?”

“what thing?” ningning looked puzzled, blinking.

“the painting expo hacking thing,” you reminded her, as her face brightened up, “oh that thing! yeah i’m still doing it,” she smiled proudly, swaying from side to side.

“oh ningning,” you whined, finally understanding the misunderstanding, “i thought you invited me over to see that, not to help you deliver packages.” you dragged your words with laze.

“oh y/n,” she whined back, mocking you, “that’s too bad, you’re going to have to find out how it went on the news, just like i did with your bike race.” she winked, knowing she won the banter.

“but-” you were going to say, until she handed you all the canvases, making you stumble on your own footing, securing the paintings in your arms.

“now, æ-ningning will send the address to æ-yn for her to guide you, they’re all going to the same place,” ningning grabbed her phone, sending a synk message.

“okay…” you grumbled, “i’ll see you later, hopefully npt with another similar situation,” you started to head out of the studio, a bit disappointed for not getting to see ningning’s plan on the big screen.

she ran over, opening the door for you, and saying goodbye in a cheery tone, before letting you out.

going down the same stairs, you reached the lonely lobby, and stood outside in the street, thinking about how you were going to transport everything.

taking out a long rope from a compartment on your bike, you used it to tie all the canvases like a present tie, and then took two ends of the rope, tying it on your back. you made sure none would fall out or that the knots were lose before sitting down.

placing your helmet on, the sound of the system connecting ran through, a following voice. “are you sure that’s safe?”

“i’m alright,” you replied, placing your hands on your thighs, waiting for the map to connect.

“yeah i don’t care, i’m talking about the canvases,” æ-yn remarked, making you irk at her comment, “you know? sometimes you have to learn to keep your mouth shut, or your pixels, whatever,” you huffed, the helmet screen projecting a map.

“whatever you say,” she yawned, leaning on the edge of the screen, observing the road. “this is the fastest route, but be careful, it’s already very dark-”

“i can see that-”

“so, turn on your lights,” she smiled smugly, as you had forgotten to. “please.”

you did so, not without rolling your eyes, and went on your way to the place ningning had instructed you to.

it was a strangely secluded place out of the city, but it wasn’t far, you’ve heard about it. and now, visiting it at night, made you feel everything but safe.

the well-lit streets and nice buildings slowly turned into numerous alleys, and berated brick walls, a small rain had started, making the road a bit slippery too. you had to cover the canvases with your jacket to make sure they didn’t get ruined.

lamppost lights flickered over you, adding an eerie feel to the small voice in your head that told you to get out of here as soon as possible.

you were a few minutes away from your destination, no more than ten, when something strange happened, making you stop your bike.

the helmet got disconnected, the screen turning entirely black. you pressed the break on your motorcycle, coming to a complete stop in the middle of the lonely street.

“that’s strange,” you mumbled, taking off your helmet to inspect it, wanting for it to just be a small error, nothing grand.

your æ’s voice made the road seem less scary until now, that it shut off. for some reason it wouldn’t turn back on, so you had to restart the system.

the lights on your helmet soon slid through its accents, letting you know it was on. placing it over your head, you watched as the screen came to life, making you meet a white logo of the headwear company.

but then, it glitched, and then it glitched again, until the screen turned black, making you lose al hope in getting it back on.

“you’ve got to be kidding,” you sighed, looking down.

and in the middle of the screen, something else appeared. a logo similar to the æ, a snake slithering through the first letter.

that was the last you heard of your æ.

the news of a massive synk out soon were in everybody’s screens. people were all over the place, panicking, being scared. they didn’t know where their æ had gone, and nobody knew how it happened.

that night, the city had been blasting messages to the æ, and calling for anybody who had information about the synk out.

it felt incredibly alone. having someone by your side, that understood you, and had your back, and then not anymore, without a reason.

“-it has been five months since the phenomenon, called synk out. forcibly disconnected synk with æ’s across the city simultaneously-”

“move out of the way,” you interrupted the video playing on a girl’s phone in the audience. she jumped, turning quickly to face you, looking up at your face.

“i’m so sorry,” she apologized, recognizing your face.

five months. it was all it took you to become one of the best and fastest motorcycle racers. you had gone against countless of people, for now, no one had been able to beat you. and that’s how you wanted it to remain. you trusted your own instincts in these races, not looking for help from anyone.

“yeah, okay, so are you moving out of the way or?” you raised a brow at her, as she had been staring at you for a some seconds.

you pushed her out, and walked towards the road, seeing the bike parked at the starting line. getting on it, you were about to place your helmet on your head until a voice spoke.

“you know, you were just like that,” heeseung said, getting on his own bike, racing for the fun of it. he had already gone against you too many times to count, and even if it was hard always coming up in second place, the money of maintaining that place was worth it.

“what are you talking about?” you placed your helmet on your lap, looking at him with confusion on your face.

he rolled his eyes, pointing to your right. your eyes turned to look at the sight. the same girl which you had pushed out of the way, filming you, as she had a poster with your name on it.

your eyes slightly widened, and you sent a senseless nod, turning back to him, “what are you talking about?”

heeseung laughed at your words, as you had repeated the same question, but now with an entirely different tone and meaning. “i remember the day we met, a scaredy young girl, still in high school, who beamed away from home to come see her older brother race,” he started, making you feel a bit of nostalgia at the memory.

it was almost like it had been yesterday. when you snuck off to go cheer on your brother’s last race. he was leaving the city for university. you had always looked up to him, as he spent little time with you, making him that ‘cool mysterious older brother’.

you were so tiny in that small crowd of tall high schoolers and college students, looking for a familiar face. when you then bumped into a racer. he looked you in the eye, confused as to why a middle school girl was here, and in your point of view, he was going to beat you up, but you still admired how cool and awesome the rider looked, even attempting to take some pictures with him.

a boy and his friends ‘saved’ you, who now you know as heeseung, sunghoon and jake. the two last never raced, they only came to support heeseung, and occasionally you.

“i wasn’t obnoxious and annoying,” you retorted, sliding your helmet on, not wanting to hear more of it.

“were you not?” heeseung laughed, reaching over to punch you lightly, making you throw him a look he could feel, even if you had the visor covering your eyes.

your attention was back on the dim light street before you, as a familiar girl excitedly stood in the middle of it. ten motorcycles were standing in front of her menacingly, as they revved their engines.

she raced her hand in the air, and you leaned forward in anticipation, your chest almost touching the front of the bike. her hand fell, and quickly, all motorcycles zoomed past her at an incredibly fast pace, like ghosts.

you were behind two bikers, easily making your way past the others who were now behind you.

this was a familiar circuit, it was the last one you had used æ-yn’s help on, the last race she had completed with you. it almost felt like a duty to come first place on this race now. as if you owed it to her.

you were fast on the first two rounds, as you had come a few days ago to become more familiar with the streets and shortcuts. now, you were driving alongside heeseung, as he had the time to salute you mockingly, always having the time of his life on races.

it was a feeling hard to describe, you just had to experience it on your own, the rush on your muscles, your ragged breath, the heat of the engine near your legs, the vibrations of the motor under your fingertips, it was all human controlled.

this was all you.

at the last lap, you were head in head with another biker, as they tried to speed up past you, successfully doing so. you leaned forward once again, panting, as your bike cut through the air, taking up more velocity.

their bike clashed against your on the side, the adrenaline making it impossible to feel any pain, you couldn’t look anywhere but ahead of you now.

it was the closest call ever, but like always, you came in first.

you were in a bliss, it felt good winning, knowing nobody could be better at this than you. the crowd swarmed around you, some congratulating you and some others challenging you, thinking they would be the ones to beat you.

in the midst of it all, you looked to the side, seeing a familiar figure leaning on a wall, and when they noticed you, they immediately went to hide behind it.

you furrowed your brows, dismissing some people without paying attention to them, as you tried to cross the street with some difficultly, there was just so many people.

you managed to pry some of them off and get away, wanting to know what this was about. as you got to the alley, two hands grabbed your jacket, pulling you closer with great force.

your back collided with the wall, making you wince, and look up at the person. “ why are you here?! what is your problem karina?!” you said in anger.

karina wore her hair down, a big jacket over her, as she stepped back with an incredulous look, “what is my problem?! what is yours?! we haven’t heard from you in months, and now we find out you’re this hardcore illegal racer?”

“i don’t like the word hardcore,” you cringed, looking to the side, “and i don’t see why it has anything to do with you, the four of you know i’ve been doing this since forever,” you spoke back.

she shook her head, clearly distraught, “yeah, well, i didn’t think throwing your life away, ignoring your friends and family was that serious to you,” she pushed her finger with blame into your chest, “and i’ve told you, not to wear shorts while racing.”

you frowned and looked down at your legs, seeing a big portion of your skin bleeding, and scratched, bruised. probably from when you crashed with the other biker side to side.

“oh my god,” you swallowed, breathing heavily, feeling as if your legs were giving out. all the adrenaline and rush made you not feel the pain, but now it coursed through you incredibly hot, making your skin feel almost burning to the touch.

“karina i’m-”

“don’t say it,” she warned.

“i’m going to die,” you wailed. ever since you were a kid, you hated getting hurt, small scars from playing outside, cuts from cooking or bumping into someone. it made you feel sick.

you’ve never broken a bone, got stung by a bee nor stepped into glass. all the time you’ve been careful not to put yourself into small harms way, except for the fact that you quite literally sit in a bike and race and do crazy life-challenging stunts.

“okay, calm down,” karina sighed, going over to your side, and looping her arm around your shoulders, “my apartment is close, let’s get you fixed up,” she smiled.

inside, she was trying not to flinch at how much your wound must hurt, from the small look she took, karina could tell it was deep, and you were likely in extreme pain right now. so she wanted to act nice to make you feel a bit light headed, and not think about pain so much.

“no, wait-” you stopped on your tracks, “i’m not going to walk all the way over there,” you scoffed, feeling as if daggers were puncturing your leg repeatedly.

“i brought my car dumbass,” she laughed, helping you to walk.

“okay.” you breathed, “okay, okay. wait!” you stopped again, now making her groan in annoyance, “what now?”

“my motorcycle! call heeseung! tell him to take it with him,” you nodded, almost vulnerable, looking up at her with teary-red eyes.

“alright,” karina reassured you, holding you closer, “i’ll let him know once we get you to my car,” she continued saying warmly.

karina did in fact call him, and even turned on the speaker, letting heeseung call you very not-nice names because you got hurt on impulse.

the ride to her apartment was quick, not more than a couple of short minutes, but it was just enough for you to fall asleep, your body not wanting to be awake to feel the pain of the wound any longer, as your muscles had also grown tired from the race.

karina made the effort to carry you upstairs, trying not to get blood on her white jeans, and even almost waking you up and having you walk all the way up there by yourself, but she didn’t.

she much preferred having your blood on her white jeans.

months ago she would have woke you up, telling you how stupid and reckless you had acted, but now, she knew just how important these raced were for you, even if it was done in a non-normative way. she respected it, and was glad that something kept you going.

once she got to her apartment, she got the help of three others to clean you up, getting the dirty clothes off and fixing up your wound the best they could, reminding themselves to take you to the hospital as soon as they could tomorrow if you got bad.

your consciousness slowly started to get back later at night. your body was incredibly sore and tired, but too much preoccupations woke up your mind.

looking around, you noticed you were in karina’s living room, on her couch. trying to stand up, your leg instantly started burning, and you looked down to see it wrapped in a bandage, a bit of blood leaking through the white.

you had a big shirt on, with some rockets and spaceships printed on it, and a pair of cookie monster shorts on. aside from that, the tv was on, and you noticed four pair of shoes by the doorway.

“fuck no…” you whispered, knowing exactly who was in the apartment with you right now.

you had a feeling it was past midnight and they were asleep, as no noises coursed the apartment apart from your heavy breathing, so it was okay to assume you were safe to go get water.

slowly walking in your heels, you made your way to the kitchen, trying to feel around for the cups cabinet, and as if luck had completely vanished from your side, you dropped a handful of things that came tumbling down to the ground, making a loud continuous noise of metal clashing against each other.

“of course,” you grumbled, soon hearing a light turn on from a bedroom, as someone came out from it.

you dropped to the floor, hiding behind the kitchen isle, as winter came closer to the kitchen, looking around confusedly, not being able to spot what had made the noise.

cursing to yourself for the inconvenient hiding spot, your leg started to hurt even more. it was too much pain to tolerate. so you had to stand up abruptly, scaring the girl standing right on the other side of the kitchen isle.

“ahhhhh!” winter swung at you with her hand, but you stopped her, grabbing her wrist, “stop! it’s me!”

winter blinked, and stepped back, looking at the living room, where your previous resting spot was left alone, “oh, you’re up,” she spoke calmly, her heart beating quickly from the scare.

“yeah i’m up,” you turned around, now having enough illumination to be able to get a cup of water, and pick up everything you dropped.

“you’re not really quiet,” winter giggled, dragging out a chair from underneath the counter, jumping on it, “but again, you’ve always been rowdy.” she pouted.

“uh huh,” you replied back, not really interested, not wanting to face her, nor the rest any time soon.

you turned on the tap, watching as the water infuriatingly slowly filled the cup. your finger tapped against the side of it, as if to hurry it up.

“oh hey,” winter spoke, her voice tired, as you heard another pair of footsteps come into the kitchen.

“winter? y/n? why are you two up?” ningning yawned, and then remembered, “wait, y/n, what about your-”

“yes, it hurts,” you turned off the tap, and turned to them. both looked a bit different. ningning’s hair lighter, and winter had cute it shorter, also making it darker, like chocolate.

“then why are you up?” ningning shook her head, a few pieces of hair falling down to her face. you raised your water, that being your answer.

that was always your answer. absolutely nothing.

for months they have been trying to get closer to you. the day ningning sent you out to deliver the canvases, was the last they saw of that y/n. in essence you were still her, but you had changed, as people do with time.

with no æ around, you were just you. no y/n and æ-yn, anymore at least. and with all your winnings, you felt as if it was for the better, the synk out. it wasn’t that you had thought of getting rid of your æ. that though never even once crossed your mind, but it was nice not relying on her, but relying on the actual you.



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[steakpieisnice]

Headlines & Heartstrings - Chapter 1

It's here! Super excited to share this with you guys! Also there is no Ray in this chapter (sorry) but he's coming next chapter. Any and all feedback is appreciated, this is my first work so I need all the help I can get <3

Word count: 1.1k

Warnings: mentions of sex work and men being generally a bit creepy

Eleanor was startled to hear a knock at the door at this hour. She was usually the only one in the office who stayed for overtime, let alone overtime that carried on for this long.

“Come in.” She called out, without looking up from her desk.

“Hey Nora.” a voice timidly said.

Eleanor froze in her seat at the voice. “Get out.” She said coldly, still not looking up from her work.

“I just need to talk to you-“

“I said. Get. Out.”

“Nora please.”

She finally looked up at him, acknowledging the man that stood in front of her.

“Don’t call me that.” She snapped.

“I just need to ask you a favour Eleanor.”

“You don’t get to ask for favours.” She stared at him icily.

“Please, it’s just one thing.” He was near begging now.

“Like I said, you don’t get to ask for favours.” She turned away from him, starting to pack up. It was getting late anyway.

“It’s not for me. It’s for Coach.” She paused at the mention of the name of the man who basically raised her.

She turned, regarding Ernie with disdain. “Then why isn’t he here? Why are you the one knocking on my door at,” she checked her watch, “near midnight? Why isn’t Coach the one asking for my help if he needs it? Because I know damn well he hasn’t sent you here, so why are you fucking here Ernie?”

“He wouldn’t ask for your help, he’s too proud. He wants to deal with this on his own, but he can’t and he needs your help. Its bad.”

She stood still for a moment, contemplating it. “What did you do?” She sighed.

“What?” Ernie looked confused. “How do you know I did something?”

“Because you’re stupid Ernie.” Ernie began to protest, but she continued anyway. “And Coach is not stupid. And if you’re coming here asking for my help that means it is really bad. So you’re going to take me to that 24 hour ice cream shop down the road, buy me a vanilla fudge sundae, and you’re going to explain what you did and how you think I can possibly help get you out of the mess you’ve made.” She said, picking up her bag from under her desk and putting her coat on.

“Yes boss.” Ernie muttered, before following her out of the door. He was going to have to do a lot of grovelling.

----------

“So you’re telling me you filmed yourself breaking into one of Micheal Pearsons farms, stealing thousands of pounds worth of bush and then posted it online for millions of people to see?” Eleanor stared at Ernie, dumbfounded. “Look, I knew you were stupid, but this is actually impressive.”

Ernie looked offended for a second, but then seemed to remember that this whole thing was actually his fault, so didn’t say anything.

“And Coach is taking the fall for you?”

Ernie nodded earnestly.

“God that man is too good for this world.” She muttered under her breath, shaking her head. She leaned forward, lacing her fingers together, staring at Ernie so intently he thought her eyes would burn holes through his head. “How can I help?” She smiled, never breaking eye contact.

“Erm,” Ernie stalled, looking away and scratching his head nervously. “I was hoping, erm, you would figure that out?” He asked cautiously.

Her smile dropped. “Ernie, are you kidding me? You showed up to my office, begged for my help and now I’m here you really want me to do the rest of the work on my own? You are unbelievable.”

“Erm… Sorry?”

“You owe me. Big time.” ----------

It didn’t take much time to find Phuc, the guy who gave the Toddlers the location of the farm. You’d think these criminal types would be better at hiding where they lived, but clearly not. Phuc lived in a grimy flat above a takeaway in a backstreet in the posh part of Croydon. She leaned against the wall of an alleyway in Phuc’s street, taking one final drag of her cigarette before readjusting her outfit, pulling her top down to reveal more cleavage. She tried not to let the disgust on her face show as yet another man leered at her. Ernie better be prepared to go to hell and back to pay her back for this.

Eleanor spotted Phuc coming down the road and took a deep breath in, retousling her hair.

“Hey Hun.” She leaned towards him as he neared her. “You look like you’ve had a long day, looks like you could do with relieving some tension.” Eleanor reached towards him, running one finger down his chest.

 “How much?” He asked her. She panicked. She wasn’t expecting him to ask her that now.

“Fifty.” She purred. Shit. That was too low. He’s never going to believe she’s real with prices like that.

His eyes widened in excitement. Nevermind.

“My apartment is just down the road, let’s take this there.” He grabbed her hand, pulling her towards his door.

She pulled him back into the alley, whispering into his ear, “What’s wrong with right here right now?”

He seemed to have no complaints with that proposal as he pushed her against the wall, beginning to kiss down her neck. She held his head in place allowing a plaid clad arm to reach around and cover his nose and mouth with a rag. He struggled against the hand, but Eleanor held him in place, until he eventually stopped struggling and slumped forwards onto her.

She pushed him away, his body hitting the ground in front of her to reveal Primetime stood with a rag in hand.

“That was a sight I never wish to see again.” He said, still looking at her disturbed.

“How do you think I feel?” She muttered, righting her clothing, and trying to make herself look generally more presentable. “Right boys, let’s get him tied up and in the van.”

The rest of the Toddlers emerged from out of the shadows, before binding his arms and wrists with duct tape and throwing him into the van.

---------

“Fuck me.” A thick Irish accent groaned. “Do I need to bring you back to the gym to teach you some fucking self-respect?” Coach regarded Eleanor in disdain as she walked through the doors to his gym.

“I have self-respect I’ll have you know!” Eleanor said indignantly.

“Sure looks like it.” Coach said, giving her an incredibly pointed look as she yanked her skirt down to try and cover more than it was.

She turned and walked towards the office, rolling her eyes at him.

“I saw that, 20 press ups.” Coach said.

She threw her head back in a groan as she dropped to the floor in press up position.

“And ten more for the attitude.” Coach smirked. Ernie started to snicker before a glare from Eleanor shut him up.

She began her press-ups counting them under her breath.

“..and that’s 30. Right can we go now?” Eleanor panted as she got up from the ground and dusted her hands off. “Christ, I’m so unfit.”

“Go where?” asked Coach.

“The Princess Victoria of course. We have some grovelling to do.”

------------

Hope you enjoyed <3

[corpsebasil]

Modern!Prince Nikolai

because I know you filthy bastards are obsessed with him

AN: SEE MY MODERN NIK MASTERLIST FOR MOOOORE

Nikolai’s mother is losing her mind.

“I have incompetent sons.” Queen Tatiana, proud single mother and Queen of Ravka, scoffs, pacing around the vast parlor as she grumbles complaints. This has been going on for the past thirty minutes and the three younger royals are exhausted. “Incompetent!”

Nikolai’s eyes are shut as he takes slow, deep breaths, his mind racing. All he can focus on is you. You who won’t answer a single call; you haven’t in almost a month. You who he craves desperately, the news headlines on almost every source of media he has access to constantly screaming at him.

‘Commoner to Royal Lover: A Fraud’ was the first title he saw when he opened his phone that morning and the image of the two of you grinning at a camera, the photo having had been taken at last year’s Christmas party, made him so upset he ended up locking his door so no maid could witness him breaking down.

He feels nauseous every time he thinks of you or hears your name, his heart so broken by your absence that he thinks he might be losing his mind as well.

“Banned from North America.” His mother is saying, exasperated at her youngest son. She wags her finger at the brunet and glares, her cheeks flushed with annoyance. “Banned. And right before the Independence Day Ball, good God, Olly. I raised you better than this.”

The prince in question, Oliver, raises a dark brow at his mother. The boy is slumped dramatically in an arm chair with wide sunglasses on his face, his dark brown hair tousled in the messy, rock-star look he prefers. Nikolai pinches the bridge of his nose when his brother exhales a long plume of smoke, tossing his bright-red vape up into the air almost contemplatively.

^^^ this is Olly’s dumbass idc that’s how I see him fight me in the comments

“To be fair,” Oliver starts, grinning wickedly as he crosses one leg over the other, his Gucci loafers catching the light from the elaborate chandelier on the ceiling. “the President’s daughter was very welcoming.”

“Oh I’m sure she was. Now the White House wants you to give a formal apology for allowing the poor girl to be caught topless in a closet with you.” Tatiana rolls her eyes, running a hand through her blonde hair as she continues her pacing.

All Oliver can do is grin.

“You’re an idiot.” Nikolai’s youngest sibling, Jenna, huffs, sprawled out on the carpet in front of the fireplace, her laptop charging beside her constantly tapping foot. “You and your stupid antics. I for one would never be caught dead making out in a closet, especially not with someone like you.”

“She couldn’t resist me, my dear sister.”

“You’re wearing a leopard-print coat. I don’t know how she didn’t.”

“Maybe if you had better style you’d get girls too.”

“I have a girlfriend you giant dick-licking dumb—”

“Shut up.” Nikolai speaks for the first time and both siblings glance at him in surprise. He doesn’t usually take that tone with them. Not ever.

“Nik.” His mother scolds, eyebrows furrowed as she looks between the three of them. “That’s no way to talk to your siblings.” Even if they’re idiots, her expression adds, but the eldest prince can’t find it in himself to be amused.

“Neither of them have said anything of substance in over an hour.” Nikolai argues, rising from his seat. “Oliver cant go two weeks without causing an international incident, Jen somehow thinks she’s not a princess and can skip every state meeting ever, I’m so stressed out I can’t breathe and the love of my damn life hates me.” He runs a ringed hand over his face, eyes squeezed shut, and misses the sympathetic grimace on his siblings’ faces. “I’m going for a walk.”

“Nikolai, darling—” his mother starts, but he’s already gone.

-

That night he’s alone on the balcony when Jenna approaches him, crossing her arms to lean against the rail. Nikolai lets out a long stream of smoke and glances over, raising a brow at her pinched expression.

“I messaged Y/N.” She says, avoiding his gaze as she stares out at the vast gardens outside the palace. She picks at her nails for a moment—black polish chipped and practically gone—before giving her brother a side-eye. “She won’t answer my calls.”

“Welcome to the club.” He lets out a small, sarcastic laugh before taking another drag off his cigarette. The end burns bright red in the night air as he sighs, popping his neck from side to side. “As far as I’m concerned she’s never going to speak to me again.”

“That would be well deserved.” Jenna comments, then sighs aloud. “Jesus, Nik. A PR stunt? I thought everything was genuine. So did Olly.”

“It was genuine, damn it.” He grunts, putting out the cigarette before tossing her an annoyed look. “No matter what the press wants to say, I love her. I mean that.”

“Then what happened?” The princess’s brow is furrowed as she crosses her arms. “I mean, I thought you two were in love.”

“So did I.”

NEXT OASAART COMING YOPP

meant to say next part but I will not be changing it

[raya-hunter01]

Fade Into You Part 1.

Prequel Lights, Camera, Action!

Jey Uso x Black Female OC! (Shantell)

Roman x Black Female OC! Tangela

Solo x Black Female OC! Sofia

Jimmy x Trin

Rating: 18+

Warning: Smut; oral, sex, fluff, masturbation, death, grief

Summary: This is the Prequel for Lights, Camera, Action! How does an outburst on your first day lead to a lifelong friendship with the Tribal Chief Roman Reigns and gaining a family you never knew you needed. When did the lines get blurred between you and one of your best friends Jey Uso? Follow the friendships, and relationships of how they all came to be the one big happy family we all know and love in Lights, Camera, Action.

Smackdown

June,  2018

“Alright! Let’s have some decorum, I don’t want to have a long meeting,” the COO of WWE said as the room got quiet. “First things first, I would like to introduce our production intern for the next few months. She did a month over on Raw, but I feel we need her here. Shantell, can you stand up please?” Paul asked as I stood and waved.

“Damn she fine,” I heard someone whisper as I shook my head wanting the earth to open up and swallow me whole.

“Hey! None of that funny business, she is here to do a job and if I hear ya’ll been giving her a hard time you will deal with me,” Paul said firmly.

“Paul, you just had to let another diva in here throwin' her ass around trying to catch a big fish to marry, and take all a dude’s money,” Brock said as I frowned at him.

“Excuse me, I work hard, and I make my own way, I don’t need a man to do it for me. Also, I’m not a diva, I am a production student,” I said as Brock rolled his eyes at me.

“You sure you can handle a big job like that?” he asked, almost taunting me.  “I’m damn good at what I do, so how bout you do your job and let me do mine,” I said as the room got quiet as it seemed all eyes were on Brock and I.

“Oh, Paul you hired one with a little spunk. I like it, she won’t let these boys run her over,” he said smirking at me almost proud like.

 “He sure did, and let’s be clear Mr. Lesnar, I can assure you I ain’t looking to catch you or anybody else around here.  Plus, you ain’t my type, I like men who work more than 6 days a year and actually have a set of balls,” I said smiling innocently at him as I heard the snickers.

 “Well, shit she told his ass,” I heard someone whisper as Brock smiled at me and didn’t say another word. Great I just went off on one of the headlining guys in the company. I’m so fuckin’ screwed.

Paul stood seemingly still in shock as he covered his mouth, I saw him hiding his smile, and I exhaled maybe I was safe.

 “Damn, um, Shantell thank you, you may be excused.  I need to go over some more things before the show. Don’t go too far Tevin will be out in a few minutes to show you around,” he said as I made my way into the hall.

I didn’t notice the huge figure following me into the hall. “I can tell me and you gon’ get along good,” he said as I looked at him in shock. Before me stood WWE Superstar Roman Reigns.

 “I’m sorry that was so unprofessional,” I said as he laughed extending his hand. “No, it wasn’t that shit was awesome, I’m Joe by the way, and I’m very pleased to meet you,” he said smiling at me. That was it, the beginning of a beautiful friendship.

------------------------

Three Weeks Later

Smackdown Philadelphia, PA

Philadelphia Arena

“So, are you coming out with us tonight? I want you to finally meet my cousins.  Well technically nephews but since we were so close in age, we grew up as cousins.  It made things less awkward for us when we were growing up,” Joe said as I shook my head at him.

 “Well, I would love to meet them and hang out, but I know after this I’m going to be tired. Tevin is out with the flu and I’m solo tonight, Paul thinks I can run the show alone,” I said nervously.

“You will do great; I’ve seen you tell Tevin how to get better shots and quality angles. You’re ready, stop second-guessing yourself,” Joe said confidently as I tried to relax. “Thanks for encouraging and pushing me,” I said giving him a small smile.

 “Always, and because I always do you still gon’ ride wit me tonight and I’ll introduce Jimmy and Jey to you before I drop you off at the hotel,” he said as I waved him off.

“You ain’t got to give me a ride back, go enjoy your family. I can catch Nattie and T.J. back,” I said, trying to give him an out.

“Not on your life, your mama called me the other day informing me of the places she would hide my body if something happened to you,” he snickered as I rolled my eyes. 

“See you welcomed that beast when you said you would protect me with your life when she met you. She was so gutted when I told her we were just friends and nothing was going on,” I said as he kissed my cheek.

“Hey, I meant that, and I don’t even know why but I feel just really close to you, and I would protect you with my all,” Joe said honestly as I gave him a hug. “Thanks bear, I would do the same,” I whispered as he held me tight.

 “Show them you can run this show, and I promise that job offer will be waiting when you graduate,” he whispered before letting me go. “I got ya,” I reassured him as he went to get ready for the show, I saw him stop to talk to his cousins as I turned around to check my equipment.

Jey’s POV

“Alright, ya’ll looking good! It’s good to have ya’ll back!” Joe said walking up, hugging Jimmy and me. It felt great to be back, but it was also scary. “It’s good to be back Uce,” I said smiling at his enthusiasm in us being back.

 We had been sent home some months ago due to my brother Jimmy getting into trouble for a couple of DUIs he had gotten, and my upcoming divorce. We both had so much going on Paul gave us some time off to try to get ourselves together.

I looked over stealing a glance at the woman Big Uce was hugging a few minutes ago. I couldn’t really see her, but her voice sounded beautiful.  “Damn,” I whispered as she got up to hug Paul and I finally saw her face, she was truly beautiful.

“Aye, leave her be. She ain’t one of them one night stand types. That’s a lady,” Joe said pointing at her as she laughed at something Paul had said.

“Aye, you know I don’t believe in cheatin’. Plus I ain’t trying to hook up with nobody, I’m done with relationships. I was just admiring her, I mean I ain’t blind Uce.” I said as Jimmy rolled his eyes.

“I know you ain’t letting Candy ruin your thoughts on love and relationships,” Trin said, coming up to us as Jimmy hugged her.

“Hey, I’m just sayin’ I wanna chill for a minute. I just ain’t trusting nobody right now. I want all this shit with Candy to be over so I can get on wit my life,” I said as Trin hugged me.

 “It’s ok Bro, love will come when you’re ready,” Trin said as I nodded.

“I think when you least expect it someone is gon’ knock yo ass for a loop and it’s over,” Jimmy said laughing.

“I have been home trying to get things in order, everything is moving so slowly due to Candy dragging her feet,” I said wanting nothing more than to change the damn subject. I would never fall in love again and that was all to it.

Jimmy’s POV

“Shantell, I want you to meet my cousins Jimmy, Jey, and this is Jimmy’s wife Trin.  Ya’ll this is Shantell,” Joe said as she smiled at us standing up. “Hey, I’ve heard a lot about you guys,” she said extending her hand as Trin shook her head at Shantell.

 “Girl, as much as Joe been talking about you, your family,” Trin said hugging her as she laughed returning the gesture. “A’ight let me get in here, and give my new sister some love,” I said joining in on their hug as Shantell and Trin laughed. I looked over at my brother and his somber mood made me a little sad as he came over to join in as well.

“Alright, she got a show to get ready for,” Joe said breaking up the moment as I saw the relief in my brother’s face. He seemed curious about Shantell but was standoffish.

“I got to go get ready ya’ll,” Jey said quickly stalking off as his phone rang. “How much you wanna bet it’s her,” Trin said rolling her eyes. “I hope not, she needs to stop playing games like she wants my brother. I heard she done moved that guy in,” I said as Joe seemed to be in deep thought looking in the direction Jey had gone in.

“I hope he’s ok,” Shantell said looking worried as I smiled at her. “Yea, he’s going to be fine. Just got to take it one day at a time,” Joe said as we talked for a few more minutes before leaving Shantell alone to allow her to get ready for her first solo show.

Jey’s POV

“Camera nine pan out on Joe, I need a closeup of his face as Brock is leaving,” Shantell said. She seemed to be in her zone and was having fun and it made me smile.

“Stu, Uso’s are coming your way in about twenty seconds,” she said as she looked up and smiled at me. God, she is so beautiful, get yourself together Jey.

“Good luck ya’ll! Kill it out there,” Shantell said, as I nodded my head at her.  Jimmy gave her a thumbs up as we could hear the crowd chanting for us. It was go time after six months away, and now it was time to get back to work.

“Stu they are coming in hot, get ready to run with them,” she said with a smile as our music hit and the crowd exploded.

The feeling I get being in front of a crowd doing what I love is unmatched. The crowd was hot, as we stood tall to end the show. I was happy to be back but was I really ready to be back on the road, I guess only time will tell.

“That’s what I’m talking about! Welcome back!” Joe shouted when we walked back through the curtain back to Gorilla to a crowd of our co-workers welcoming us back.

“The shots looked great Shantell,” Paul said as he pulled Shantell aside. “Thank you I was so nervous,” she said taking a sip of her water. “You are on your way if you keep this up,” he said encouraging her as she gave him a hug. 

“Thanks, boss, let me help the crew pack up,” she said walking off.  Yea, I had to remain neutral and keep my guard up, she was dangerous for me.

------------

Two Weeks Later, Las Vegas, NV

Joe’s Rental

Shantell’s POV

“Oh, wow this place is huge,” I said looking around kinda feeling outta place.

“It’s fire, but we didn’t need all this Uce,” Jey said putting his bag down, looking at the hot tub and pool.

Hey, we needed a break and yes, I mean everyone. A lot has been going on so just relax and enjoy,” Joe said as Trin smiled at him in gratitude.

“It’s really beautiful, I mean the next three days should be amazing. I for one am ready to pick my room and take a nap,” Trin said as Jimmy grabbed their bags and they headed upstairs.

“I can go grocery shopping, I mean you did all this so the least I can do is get food,” I said trying to carry my weight.

“Nope, you’re a guest. Just take my card and get what we need, Shantell,” Joe said giving me his card as I saw Jey looking at me with curious eyes.

“I can go wit you,” he said as I looked at him in shock. “Well, thanks I would love the company,” I said nervously as he got the truck keys from Joe.

“We’ll be back ya’ll, after you beautiful,” Jey said opening the door for me as I blushed heading to the truck. Hold it together Shantell he is married I had to repeat to myself as I hoped in the passenger seat.

“Alright, I put in the GPS so we should be good,” I said as he backed out of the driveway.

“Good, cause I ain’t got a clue where the fuck we are,” he said casually as I snickered. The drive was peaceful with small talk here and there until he asked a question that through me for a loop.

“So, are you and Big Uce a thing?” he asked, never skipping a beat. “What you mean a thing?  Like are we dating?” I asked as he nodded at me. “No, we aren’t a thing, Jey. He’s a good friend who has looked out for me and before you ask no I don’t have a boyfriend,” I said as he seemed to like my answer.

“I’m sorry I was all in your business, I just wondered because ya’ll really seem close,” Jey whispered as his phone went off and I saw the change in his demeanor.

“Hello,” he said putting his phone on speaker sitting it down on the console as he continued to drive.

“Oh, so you finally picked up huh,” a female’s voice said as I pulled out my phone trying to tune them out, but it wasn’t happening.

“I told you I was going out of town with my family for a few days,” Jey said taking a deep breath.

“Oh, well who is the bitch that’s with ya’ll. A fan posted pictures on Twitter of some woman walking with ya’ll at the airport. I know she’s either Joe’s or your flavor of the month so who is she?” She demanded, as my eyes raised at Jey as silently pleaded with me to not say anything.

“That’s Shantell and she’s nobody’s flavor of the month. She’s a friend. Look did you sign the papers?” Jey asked as we pulled into the market.

“No, I haven’t, I told you I’m not letting you go without a fight,” she said as I rolled my eyes. So, this was the infamous Candy that had cheated on Jey, stupid bitch.

“Aye, you cheated not me. You don’t think I get lonely on the road; I do but I made a choice to be faithful to you, my wife. What did you do? You fucked someone else and, in our home, no less,” Jey said his voice rising slightly as I reached over to touch his knee trying to calm him down.

 As his eyes met mine, it seemed to calm him down as I saw him take a few breaths rubbing his hand over his face. Lord, she had this poor man stressed the fuck out.

“Look I’m on vacation, leave me in peace and sign the fucking papers,” Jey said hanging up.

Silence filled the car as he threw his phone in anger as a text alert went off. “Look just ignore it, if you keep entertaining her bullshit, she’s just going to keep stressing you out. If she wants to drag it out let your lawyers handle it,” I said reaching down and grabbing his phone.

Jey’s POV “That’s easier said than done Shantell,” I said as my phone rang again and Shantell hit ignore. “Talk to her when you’re ready, if you work it out cool, if not that’s your right. She betrayed you and you deserve time to process it. Stop giving her power,” Shantell said as I stared at her truly unsure of what to say or do.

It was almost like Shantell could sense my uneasiness. “Jey, you ain’t gotta say anything, as far as I’m concerned, the call never happened, and I didn’t hear a thing. What about you?” she asked as I smiled at her, taking my phone back and began texting my mom as she looked at me worried.

“Don’t worry I ain’t texting her. I texted my mom to let her know to call Jimmy if she needed me. I’m turning this off for the next few days,” I said waving my phone as she smiled at me in relief.  “Good you deserve a break from the craziness,” Shantell said leaning over and giving me a hug.

“You are just a really chill person ain’t you?” I asked pulling away with a smirk. “Yea, I guess I am. I try to see the good in things,” Shantell said as we got out of the truck and made our way in the store to grab some groceries.

--------

Three Days Later, Las Vegas, NV

Joe’s Rental

Jey’s POV

The weekend with Shantell and the fam was awesome. I really got a chance to unwind and just enjoy being in the moment. I hated we had to leave tomorrow, but I finally turned my phone back on, and in came the calls.

I sat on the bed checking my messages, seeing I had a message from my lawyer I took a deep breath almost dreading the voice message.

“Mr. Fatu I’ve been trying to reach you, but your mom told me to leave a voice message. Your wife Candy is now trying to sue for spousal support to the tune of 20,000 a month and has said you have also committed adultery.”

“The allegations are bogus I know, but now investigations into the matter are going to be done. Just be patient with me. We are still looking good, I just wanted to give you an update on the newest happenings. Have a good weekend,” he said as I ended the voicemail call.

I felt like I was going insane, this woman actually is trying to break me. I felt my eyes burning and I didn’t want to shed any more tears but here they were coming like a river.

Shantell’s POV

“I’m gon’ check on Jey, then head to bed,” I said as Joe smiled at me. “So, you like him huh? I know ya’ll been hitting it off these last few weeks, but something’ done changed this weekend,” Joe said pointing at me with a sly smile as I blushed. “Joe we are friends, I don’t do married men. You know that,” I said as he nodded in understanding.

 “I think ya’ll would be great for each other,” Joe said as I rolled my eyes.  “I ain’t listening to this. Goodnight matchmaker,” I said giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek before I went upstairs to check on Jey.

His door was open and I saw him still, almost in a trance. “You ok Jey,” I asked as my voice seemed to startle him.  He shook his head no as I saw the desperation in his eyes.

“Hey, what happened?” I asked softly, going to sit beside him on the bed, giving him a comforting hug.

“I can’t take much more of this shit, I’m just tired,” he whispered as I held him tighter “It’s ok Josh, lean on me,” I said as he held me tighter.

I didn’t know him that well, but in the short time I’ve known him I wanted to protect him.

---------------------------------

Pensacola, FL

Jey’s Condo

Solo’s POV

“Look, I need you to stay in the car Sofia, I don’t need you and Candy fighting again,” I said giving her a stern look. “Don’t look at me like that, it wasn’t even a fight. She ran up, so she got smacked up, “she said not caring about keeping the peace at the moment.

“Well, you stay here Mayweather,” I said jokingly as she rolled her eyes at me. “You got ten minutes and I’m coming in swinging,” Sofia said as I leaned over and gave her a chaste kiss on the lips.

“I only need about five, Jey put the stuff I needed to get right by the door,” I said as I got out and made my way to the door.

“Damn! I don’t wanna go in here,” I muttered ringing the doorbell. As the door opened, I was shocked by a man answering the door.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked sizing me up. “Uh, this is my brother’s house, I need to be askin’ yo ass that question,” I said as Candy ran to the door.

“Uh, Sefa, I didn’t expect you until tomorrow,” Candy said nervously as I smirked at her. “Yeah, I can tell you didn’t, but I don’t need but a few minutes of your time,” I said pushing my way in heading towards Jey’s office.

“Just go in the other room babe,” I heard Candy say as the dude growled but walked away. I quickly opened his office with my key, grabbed the two boxes, and locked the door back.

Making my way back down the hall, the closer I got to the front door I heard a commotion. “Shit, Sofia,” I muttered speeding up.

“What the fuck you takin’ pictures for?” Candy screamed as Sofia smirked at her. “Oh, so I can send them to Jey so he can give them to his lawyer!" Sofia said loud and proud standing in front of our car.

I walked around Candy making my way back to Sofia.“Let’s go, babe, I got the boxes,” I said as she continued to stare down Candy.

“You are just so petty. Ima get a protective order against you bitch,” Candy said as Sofia scoffed in her direction.

“I ain’t scared bitch do what you want to do. But I’m warning you if you don’t get that bum outta my brother’s house Ima reach out and touch dat ass again,” Sofia said as stalking towards Candy.

Acting fast I scooped her carrying her to the passenger side of the car, putting her inside. “Look, gone in the house before I let her go, you know you ain’t bout that life,” I said as Candy scurried fast as hell inside.

“Babe, you gotta calm down, you can’t be doing that. You got too much to lose,” I whispered to her as screamed in frustration. “Babe, look what she’s done to that house. She has tainted every memory we all have shared in that house, we got engaged here,” she said wiping her tears, pointing at Jey’s condo and I couldn’t help but agree.

The house looked like it didn’t even belong in this subdivision, it truly looked a mess.

“Let’s get outta here, I know you got to study for your nursing exam and that should be our main focus right now,” I said wiping her tears as she nodded in agreement. Candy had us all on edge and I truly would be glad when this was all over.

--------------

Las Vegas, NV

Joe’s Rental

Shantell’s POV

I wanna hold the hand inside you

I wanna take the breath that's true

I don’t know how long we talked but Jey had finally calmed down enough to relax and lay down on top of his bed. “I think I’ve run my mouth enough, so I’m going to let you sleep,” I said as he looked up at me and patted the spot beside him.

I look to you and I see nothing

I look to you to see the truth

“Nah, you ain’t gotta leave. Come lay wit me,” he said softly, his eyes held a longing I wished I could cure. This was dangerous but I couldn’t leave him. Sighing, I climbed under the covers laying comfortably beside him.

 “I knew you was cold earlier,” he said frowning at me as I shrugged my shoulders. “I’m fine stop fussing,” I said smiling, looking up at the ceiling, getting comfy on his pillow as our heads slightly touched.

Fade into you

Strange, you never knew

I think it's strange you never knew

“Did you enjoy this weekend?” he asked as I smiled at him. “Yeah, I had fun. How about you?” I asked, seeing his smile not quite reaching his eyes. Shrugging his shoulders he looked over at me as my breath caught in my throat. He was so handsome.

“Yeah, I suppose, I mean a certain girl had me spilling my guts this weekend, and made me have fun,” he said as I sat up slightly. “What you tryin’ to say, I’m bossy?” I asked as he smirked at me.

A stranger's light comes on slowly

A stranger's heart without a home

 “Nothin’ I'm just sayin' I had fun wit you this weekend even though I didn’t want to,” he said as I looked at him strangely.  “So, you wanted to have a terrible time this weekend?” I asked unsure of what he was trying to say.

” Ok, that came out wrong as fuck. What I meant is that I like talkin’ to you, and I don’t like really talkin' to nobody but my brothers. So, I guess I could say you broke down a fuckin’ huge wall,” he said pointing at me as I smiled at him.

You put your hands into your head

And then its smiles cover your heart

“Oh, shit, I feel special now,” I said touchin’ my chest in dramatic fashion with a small smile as he laughed softly mocking my antics.

“You are very special Shantell,” he whispered as I looked at him seeing nothing but the truth in his eyes. “Hey, so are you, and don’t ever forget that,” I said now seeing him deep in thought, almost unsure if what I had said was true.

 “Do you feel comfortable enough to stay wit me tonight,” he asked as I stared into his eyes. “Yeah, I’m good. I trust you;” I said as he smiled at me with that boyish sly smile that was growing on me.

Fade into you

Strange you never knew

 After a few minutes of comfortable silence, I turned to him to make sure he was ok. “Josh, are you good?” I asked softly glancing over at him and couldn’t help but smile, he was asleep.

I think it's strange you never knew

 “Good night, Joshua,” I whispered softly as I gently kissed his forehead before I turned the opposite way and fell asleep myself.

Fade into you

Strange you never knew

Fade into you

I think it's strange you never knew

Taglist: @reci24 @southerngirl41 @vebner37 @jeyusos-girl

@melaninsugababy @romanreignkisser @bebesobrielo

@arination99 @2-muchsauce @bakugoumarianawrites

@empressdede @alyyaanna @christinabae @anonandwannakeepitthatway

[seeminglyranch87]

Taylor & Travis Timeline

June 2024 - Part 3

June 25 - Travis Kelce is a guest on "Bussin with the Boys" Podcast and talks about his relationship with Taylor (x 1:14:18). Podcast recorded 19 June 2024

Travis is asked how his team mates handled the news that he was dating Taylor...

"no nobody really gave me [a hard time] no, really nobody knew what was going on really all over the place, we kind of kept it between us as much as we could but once she came to a game obviously it was all popping from there"

"you want to keep things private but at the same time I'm not here to hide anything, that's my girl you know what I mean that's my lady, I'm proud of that so it's like I'm not sitting here trying to juggle 'how can I keep this under wraps'. You just don't want to let everybody into your personal life and be able to comment on it knowing that everything she does is getting a headline."

When asked about what has been crazy as a result of dating Taylor Travis replies

"it's been cool, it's a different demographic than the NFL really so it's been cool to dabble in that and see her following, it's been fun.

"The Chiefs fans have turned into a lot of her fans or her fans have turned into Chiefs fans so I've had fun with just about every aspect of it. It's just when you're at home you want privacy and you don't always get that"

On supporting each other and Taylor going on to the field at the Super Bowl:

"she's very self-aware she understands situations and that's why I really started to really fall for her was how genuine she is around friends & family, it can get crazy for somebody with that much attention and she just keeps it so chill and so cool and because you know everyone's watching what hey what move

"The first game she came to against the Bears I was like 'hey yeah so I could probably set you up with everything' and she just walked right through the front door. There's no going down talking to security making sure that she gets to her [box seat] she just wants to be around the family and friends and experience this with everybody. She got Buu points for that. She's in the madness, she wants to be a part of it, she wants to support me and do things like that. She really won me over with that one though."

How's it been going to the concerts?

"dude the concerts are electric yeah they're electric and she just switched it up, she just came out with the new album so she Incorporated that into the new show, she's having fun up there so it's like I can enjoy seeing her in her element killing it on stage and I love the show man she's got bangers."

Travis is asked to name his top tier songs of Taylor's...

"I really started listening to Taylor's music when she came out with 1989 like I knew who she was before that, we were the same age we so through high school I knew who Taylor was as she was getting her career started. 1989 was where it really started to go crazy so I'm going to say Blank Space because that was the first one great song so I'm put that one at number one. "Number two; Cruel Summer is one of the ones she opens with at her show and when she comes out and it's just Electric in the stadium and then she goes into an absolute banger like that, I was fired up when that happened the first show I was ever at" "What would be my third? I'll say So High School, it's got a little bit of a sentimental meaning". "You know how to ball, I know Aristotle"

June 26 - New Heights - The London Episode airs (recorded Sat 22nd June in London). Jason and Travis Kelce talk about Jason and Kylie's first experience of the Eras Tour in London UK.

“13+87 i’m just saying it works”

Calm Down with Erin & Charissa podcast. Erin Andrews & Charissa Thompson share their experience of attending the Eras Tour at Wimbledon Night 1 and chatting with Travis in the VIP tent... (x)

Charissa: “you must be so proud of her.” Travis: “you have no idea.”

June 28 - The Eras Tour, Aviva Stadium, Dublin, Ireland

State of Grace x You’re on Your Own Kid (guitar) & Sweet Nothing x Hoax (piano)

June 29 - The Eras Tour, Aviva Stadium, Dublin, Ireland

The Albatross x Dancing With Our Hands Tied (guitar) & Ours x This Love (piano)

June 30 - The Eras Tour, Aviva Stadium, Dublin, Ireland

Travis flew in from LA and arrived part way through the Folklore/Evermore era, this is the moment Taylor saw him arrive (x)

Stevie Nicks & Julia Roberts are in attendance.

Clara Bow x The Lucky One (guitar) & You're On Your Own Kid (piano)

Trav let her bejeweled 🥰😭🤩 (x)

Taylor, Travis, Stevie Nicks, Paramore, band and dancers enjoyed a post show celebration at Hacienda Bar in Dublin (x)

Go to previous update -> June part 2

Go to next update -> July part 1

Return to the timeline

[writingsfromhome]

Dos and Dont’s Epilogue

Part 1 / 2/3/4

A/N: for those of you still needing more closure with this story this is for you

——————————————

6 months later:

My apartment was small but it was mine and I got to share it with one of my childhood best friends I’d reconnected with after moving back to the states last year.

Today the sun was setting on the beautiful November day. I had ordered in sushi and was enjoying a glass of wine, waiting for Deanna to get back home and tell me about her date.

These quiet evenings to myself always got me contemplative. Tonight was no different—I get to thinking about my day on set and how tomorrow was going to look.

After coming back from London and submitting my video proposal last spring, I had been rejected to nobody’s surprise. But that hadn’t stopped Harry from intervening and getting me a spot on set. It became a joke that I was a ghost intern there because really all I got to do was shadow people on set and help out where I could. And it had left me hungry for more.

I started building a portfolio and networking like crazy to get on more sets. So far I’d worked on three, once as a general assistant and twice as an arts assistant. I felt myself moving in the right direction I wanted to and it was thrilling.

I had Harry to thank for that really. And just like always, thinking about him sent a pang of achey regret through me.

I’m not sure what happened between us; we kept in touch loosely after I got back to the States. Mostly we talked about my future work and getting on set but after he actually got me on set and I got busy, our conversations fizzled out.

When I landed my second gig and had to maneuver my old job with Oretta she had ultimately let me go. I’d been bitter about failing something then but now I saw it as the kindness that it was—she had let me go and I had the room to pursue this new career.

It wasn’t easy though. The feeling of failure had driven me into the arms of a depressive episode that had taken me back home to Burbank. And when headlines were made of Harry’s new dates and women of the week, I’d taken it as a sign. We shouldn’t be in each other’s lives.

But I missed him every time I thought about him. And I always hated myself a little for not being brave enough to do anything about it, for pushing him away, and for liking him in the first place.

Clearly I was a very health person.

There was a knock on the door and I knew it had to be Deanna.

She distracts me with stories about her date and how well they hit it off. Apparently he kissed her goodnight right downstairs while I’d been drowning in misery on our living room couch.

The next morning, my phone rings at the ass crack of dawn. I expect it’s someone on set and end up being right. So with a few hours of sleep and a slight hangover from last night’s wine, I pick up a large coffee and get to work.

Last night’s thoughts bleed into my drive to work. It was when I was on set especially that I wanted to message Harry. I wanted to update him about all the cool things I was working on and hear what he thought. It was stupid but I wanted him to be proud of me too.

I wonder sometimes if I should have said something in London, been the bold one and taken a leap.

But I couldn’t have.

Harry was a damn rockstar and I was still figuring out my life. I can’t imagine it could have worked. So was it just the maybe, the what-if of us that kept looping in my mind? Or did what I feel for him mean something real, real enough not to shake so quickly.

A knock on my window scares me. It’s another one of the set assistants—Damien, waving at me. I guess I’ve just been parked staring into space. Oops.

“You need a coffee,” he tells me when I join him.

“Can you believe I’ve already had one?”

“I can probably find you a line of coke somewhere on set if you need something stronger?”

“Damien,” I pretend to be scandalized. But after working with these people over the last few years it was a pretty normal sight to see. “Ease into it first.”

He laughs, “I’m joking. I know you’re not…”

“I know,” it gets a bit awkward as it usually did with Damien and I when we started joking. “I’m joking too.”

His face flushes and I welcome someone calling me over to leave the awkward.

The day passes in a blur, the art director had a last minute change sending me to a local antique store trying to source props which was part of the job I enjoyed. With my headphones in I was in a world of structured creativity.

While I look through gold frames one of Harry’s songs comes on and I skip it automatically. I wasn’t quite ready to listen to his addictive voice croon about lovers of his past.

Not that I hadn’t tried going on dates of my own. But the thought of what-if kept me committing to anyone. If I thought about it for long enough it was actually annoying—how he somehow managed to still block my romantic life.

I’m invited for drinks after we’re done shooting for the day. Even though it’s pretty late I decide to say yes. Lately I’d spent my evenings when Deanna’s out just drinking by myself and being miserable. May as well drink with coworkers.

And I actually missed having regular coworkers, like I used to have Winnie. Shit talking about work to destress and drink was one of the highlights of making friends at work.

I have more to drink than I intended, and a small voice in my brain tells me that the amount of alcohol I’d been having recently might be a sign I’m losing it a little. But I order one last drink to shut it up.

At one point I start talking about horoscopes with someone in the bathroom and she ends up showing me how to use the lipstick I complimented them on to overline my lips, and I somewhat remember signing someone’s napkin and telling them to keep it for a few years and what it would be worth.

I also text Deanna an assortment of things and try to call my sister for a pressing matter that I can’t remember when it goes to voicemail. I end up babbling about drinking too much and needing to cut back.

I don’t know what time it is by the time I’ve ridden my high but I want to go home. I huddle by the entrance trying to remember if I came with a jacket tonight or not.

“You’re not driving home tonight are you?” Damien pops up beside me. We’d chatted throughout the night but I’d avoided any awkwardness by constantly inviting other people into the conversation. But right now he has me cornered.

“I’m a very responsible adult Damien,” I slur. “I am getting a taxi.”

“I can drive you home?” He offers.

“You were drinking too mister.”

“No,” he touches the tip of his nose. “I just had a beer and switched to soda afterwards.”

“That’s cheating,” I touch his nose and he laughs. I laugh too.

“We were invited out to drink,” he shrugs. His face flushes. “They didn’t specify what.”

“Cheater,” I tease. “D’you have a car?”

“I could drive yours home? And take an uber home from yours. We don’t live too far away.”

“No way!” I clutch my purse to me. “Nobody drives my car.”

“I didn’t realize you were so possessive.”

“It’s my car!” I let him know.

“But it’s parked on the street. You can’t leave it here weirdo.”

He had a point. Damnit.

“Fine,” I hand him my purse. He opens it tentatively and pulls the keys out.

“I just need these,” he hands my purse back.

“I need those back,” I remind him.

“I know,” he laughs, his hand coming down on my shoulder to lead me out. It sends a shiver down my spine. “I’m parking it in your garage and handing them right back.”

“Good.” I nod.

I pick the music until he tells me I shouldn’t go into singing and he switches the radio to a classical station. I pretend to snore.

“At least it might sober you up.” He pats my leg before snatching his hand off when he realizes he’d touched my bare thigh.

“I don’t feel so good.”

“I know, how much did you drink tonight y/n?”

“No I really don’t feel good.” I complain.

“Shit,” he mutters. “Just hold on.”

I do, I grip my door handle and will myself not to throw up in my car. I was at least lucid enough to know I would hate myself for having to clean it up tomorrow.

He pulls into a Trader Joe’s and I launch myself out in time to throw up on the pavement.

“Are you o-“

“Stop!” I splay my hand out behind me. This was embarrassing enough I didn’t need him to see me actually be sick. “Don’t come closer just…”

“I’ll get you some water.” He calls out and walks away.

How pathetic, I think. How pathetic was I.

Suddenly I want to cry and be left alone. I don’t want Damien driving me home, I don’t want to be drunk, and I don’t want to be here in the middle of nowhere.

When Damien gets back I’m sitting on the curb of a garden bed at the edge of a parking lot. He hands me the water and some electrolytes and gives me space which I’m grateful for. He does linger halfway in the driver’s seat and my anxiety builds until I get up and head back to the car.

“Someone kept calling you,” Damien mentions when I open my door. “I picked up after the third call. I didn’t want to bother you out there.”

“Oh, was it my roommate? Deanna?”

“No,” he scratches the back of his neck. I stare at him, waiting for him to sit back in the car and take me home. I wasn’t having fun anymore.

“Okay…?” I grab my phone from the centre console so I can check myself.

“Someone named Harry? He sounded worried?”

I look up at Damien, wondering if it was a joke even though I know it’s not. He doesn’t even know Harry. His face reflects back an awkward realization.

“Oh.” I can’t get out anything more. I could be decent and tell him that wasn’t my boyfriend—it wasn’t until this moment that I realized Damien was looking at me as more than just a casual friend. And a part of me wonders if that’s the only reason he was helping me out tonight. Then I banish the thought—that was rude. “Thanks for…letting me know.”

“I guess you don’t live with him if your roommate’s name is Deanna,” he tries to joke as he finally gets into the car.

“No that would be hard,” I reply. “He doesn’t live in the states.”

“Long distance,” he nods. I don’t reply and the car goes deathly silent as he drives me the rest of the way home.

I check my phone in the silence, Harry’s texted me. Before he called it seems:

Hey is everything alright?

Y/N I want to call you, you didn’t sound too good in your vm

I’m calling you

Shit! Did I call him first?

My face heats up with a stabbing sensation and I try to blink away the headache that was forming.

I check my call logs and sure enough after calling Deanna I’d called Harry. Why had I called him? I don’t even remember what I said in my voice message.

I groan.

“Is everything ok?” Damien asks.

“No I feel like shit-“

“Do you need me to stop again-“

“No.” I wave his concern away. “I just need to get home.”

I feel bad for him. I didn’t think I was leading him on in any way and yet he had driven me home because he liked me? I decide I’d call him his Uber myself to make it even. To feel like I didn’t owe him something.

When I finally drudge up my stairs to my bedroom I can barely be bothered to remove my clothes or take off my makeup. But my brain is wired thinking about Harry, how he called me.

I must still be somewhat drunk because as I lay horizontally in bed with half of my clothes on the floor I pick up the phone and call him.

H’s POV:

“Hi,” her voice is small and tired. My heart squeezes just hearing it.

“Y/n, you’re alright.”

“Yeah sorry, I think I mis-called you instead of my sister. Your names are beside each other.”

“So you were spilling your guts to your sister then?” I smile.

“Spilling my guts?” I can hear the strain in her voice.

I let her worry for a second longer, “No I’m joking.”

“Oh my god,” she sighs. “What did I say? Please tell me it was nothing embarrassing? It had to be bad if you called me right?”

“It wasn’t bad.” It wasn’t. But she sounded really drunk for a Wednesday night and she was blabbering about drinking too much these days, and needing to stop. It made more sense now that I knew it was for her sister. “But you sounded very drunk. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Sort of. I just wanted an excuse to call her and life had given me a pretty one.

It was stupid that I needed an excuse to call y/n after everything we went through. But truth was I had tried to get on with my life after we drifted away. And I think I did a decent job. I made the missing part shaped like y/n smaller and smaller until it didn’t bother me as much she wasn’t around. That we didn’t talk.

It was weird because she was a constant for a year—whether I liked it or not we had to be around each other all the time while she worked for me. Right up to the end even as things soured, as I wore regret like a second skin and forced myself to continue being the dick that she came to know me as.

And then she left and it felt like loosening my tie; breathing a little easier because I wasn’t always so hyperaware of her in the same room or next room over, about how she looked that day or the way she smelled, the joke she made or how angry she was with me.

Yet it didn’t help that she lingered everywhere.

But then I got to have her. All of her for a few weeks and letting her go after that felt more akin to torture than living with the regret for months while she worked for me. It was worse because I had her and I had to let her go.

I thought I knew what falling felt like, what it felt like to love somebody in all their flaws and be seen in return. But then I met y/n, fell for y/n, and everything changed.

“I’m okay,” she says softly. “I’m home in bed now.”

“Good,” I want to ask her about him. The bloke that answered the phone.

“Where are you?” She asks suddenly. “Isn’t it very early there?”

“Nearly half past 6,” I say looking at my watch. “And I’m at the gym.”

“That’s early,” she comments.

“I’m a morning gym person now.”

“Watch out world,” she says. It’s sleepy and makes me think of her curled into me on the sofa as our voices dim into sleep. Then nudging her to stay over and falling asleep in bed with me. So many hours of movies gone unwatched because we were too busy just being in each other’s presence.

The thing was, I had to let her go; you can’t cage a bright and vibrant woman like her. But it hurt doing that.

It sucked being selfless.

“You sound tired,” I say even though I want her on the line. Even if it’s to hear the sound of her breathing. “You should go to bed.”

“Sorry,” she whispers. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

My breath catches in my throat. I wanted to worry about her, to be close to her enough to worry. And the want of it feels like being punched in the gut.

“You there?” She asks.

“Yeah. Yep, sorry.” I clear my throat. “I’m still here. And it’s fine. I know what can happen when you get drunk, I’m glad you left me the voicemail.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.” I miss you. I miss you so often I worry I’ll be stuck with the loss of you forever. And I care so much about you that I can’t risk ruining your life by having you.

“At least I didn’t have to go to the hospital this time.” She jokes. Her speech grows slower as I’m sure sleep pulls her in.

“No. Seemed like you would’ve had help though.” I comment. Fuck. I couldn’t resist.

“If I knew any better Mr. Styles,” she says. “I’d think that sounds like jealousy.”

She’s teasing me, I can hear it in her voice. But my heart pounds as she calls me out.

“Goodnight y/n,” I say cowardly.

“Goodnight Harry,” she replies. I wait for her to hang up first.

That morning, I have an incredibly productive gym session.

Your POV:

I remember last night in bits and pieces and I’m mostly embarrassed but I can’t stop hearing Harry’s voice in my head. The way he sounded when he said he was glad I left him the voicemail. How he sounded almost jealous at the idea that whoever picked up the phone could be more than a friend. I feel sucked right back to half a year ago when I couldn’t get him out of my mind.

The one thing I did know though, I had to really cut back on the drinking.

I go into work with a bag of doughnuts and hope nobody remembers last night in detail. I make sure to thank Damien and he’s as awkward as ever.

My thoughts are replaced by business and set instructions as the day goes on and I’m grateful for that.

At home I dissect the phone call with Deanna and when I’ve had enough I try to distract myself by asking about her life.

In a way talking to Harry again was like taking an elephant-sized step backwards—it felt like I was in the same headspace of wondering about him and yearning for him all over again. I found myself looking him up, checking to find new information on his life. Even when I could just text him and get the answers straight from him.

A couple weeks later as I park my car in my garage and make my way up to my apartment I get a call. It’s him.

“Hi? Harry?” I answer.

“There she is!” He says loudly into the phone. I have to pull it from my ear.

“Jeez you’re loud,” I comment.

“I need you to be louder,” he laughs. And I realize why he’s called. I check the time, it must be near midnight in the UK.

“Are you drunk dialling me?” My face stretches into a smile and it feels like a betrayal. Why did this man affect me so easily.

“I thought that’s what we did nowadays! Call each other drunk!”

“That was once,” I enter my apartment and put away my things while we talk.

“You’ve unlocked the garden door,” he continues. “And now I have stepped through. I am calling you.”

“He rhymes even when he’s drunk!”

“I write music!”

“I know,” I laugh. “Good music.”

“D’you listen to me?” He asks. “I never asked you that.”

“Mmm not really my taste,” I tease.

“S’cuse me?!” He sounds offended. “I have heard your taste and my music is for your palate.”

“No I don’t think so,” I was having fun.

“Y/n.” He says seriously. “I have heard you listening to Troye Sivan.”

“And? Are you comparing yourself with that fine man?”

He sputters and I continue winding him up until I finally confess: “I listen to your music. Just not lately.”

“Why?” He sounds sad.

“Are you drinking by yourself?” I ask. I imagine him in his living room, knocking back a few bottles.

“Yes. I’m drinking all by my lonely self. Because you’re not here.”

“Lonely self? That’s not what the papers say,” I say without meaning to.

“Y/n,” he lets out a small laugh. “Y/n y/n y/n. If I knew any better I’d think that sounds like jealousy.”

“Oh you’ve been keeping that in your back pocket!” I flush.

“Mhm,” he hums happily.

God, it hits me, what were we doing.

The line goes silent and I try to muster a positive voice to ask something to keep the conversation going but I find I can’t. I feel heavy and sad, like there’s a weight in my chest that’s pulling me down.

“Y/n,” he murmurs. Goosebumps erupt across my chest and I recall a memory of that exact voice in my ear with our hands entangled in his bed.

The ache in my chest grows stronger. So strong I nearly confess three words I barely admitted to myself.

I didn't understand it; how a man that made my life so miserable for so long could tug forth such intensity and longing.

He'd explained it to me—told me why he became what he did. And it just endeared me to him more.

Every man l've dated since, even the man I thought was it for me-Gray, never made me reach so deep into any feeling I was scraping the bottom looking for more.

He knew me enough to nudge me towards this new chapter of my life. This (forced) career change. He knew me in a way nobody else has. It was hard to let that go.

But he wasn't planning on sticking around for any of it—why.

“Why,” I start to ask. I bite my tongue before my impulsivity gets the better of me.

“What?” Harry asks.

“Oh nothing,” I try to play it off.

“You asking something?”

“Nope,” I deny.

“Just ask don’t be shy,” Harry taunts. “Y/n isn’t shy.”

“I-“ I’m tempted but I shake my head and then realize he can’t see me. “It’s nothing.”

“If it’s nothing then say it.” He pushes. He was pushy for being so drunk.

“Why did you stop talking to me?” I ask quickly.

The line goes quiet again.

“It takes two,” he replies. “To stop.”

“But why did you stop?” I ask.

“It wasn’t enough,” he states simply like it should make sense to me. But it doesn’t.

“What?”

“I thought you didn’t want to talk to me anymore. You got cold.”

“Cold?!”

“Yes!” He shouts again.

“Too loud,” I complain.

“Sorry,” he whispers. “You got cold like…like ice. You got icy. You iced me out.”

“No I didn’t,” I deflect his accusation.

“You did! And it wasn’t enough. And I thought y/n doesn’t like me so I let you go.”

What!? I try to make sense of his drunk ramblings. It’s because I was fired from my job, I was lost and spiralling and I stopped talking. I stopped responding to his texts as much until they stopped coming altogether.

“I didn’t like you a long time ago,” I tell him. “That stopped after we talked. After you explained things.”

“Why did you stop?” He asks me instead.

“I…I was going through a rough time. I didn’t mean to but after a while I just thought it was for the better.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you were going through a rough time?” Harry asks with a surprising tone of clarity. “Why didn’t you let me help?”

“I didn’t want you to help.”

Maybe I did ignore Harry’s messages because I didn’t want to admit where I was. To admit that I needed his help. And I was too stubborn to admit that his connections in the industry could help me further kickstart my new career. That I could lean on him for help but it felt like cheating in an industry that liked to brag about working hard to earn where you got to. So I’d avoided him.

Jeez. I hadn’t even admitted that to myself until now. And suddenly the shame comes back tenfold. A creeping heat spreads up my neck alongside a slow squeezing of my chest as the silence stretches. I feel exposed and I want to bury myself under my blankets until the feeling passes.

“Why?” His voice breaks a little. I grit my teeth.

“I don’t know.”

“Y/n,” he says my name again and I want to cry. Because I say I don’t know but I do. And so does he. “Why are you building your walls again?”

I can’t speak, I’m so choked up with emotion and the last thing I want to do is cry over the phone to a drunk Harry. Unless this conversation sobered him up. Which is even more embarrassing.

"What do want us to be?" He asks suddenly.

"You can't ask me that," I say nervously, but the question zips through me in a frenzy.

"No you're right" he sighs noisily. "I think about you.”

"Me too," | whisper. Did he think about me when he was with all those women, I want to ask. Or was it subject to certain moments only.

"You ruined me y/n," he says it so softly I think maybe he hasn't said it at all. But he repeats it even lower and I know I didn't hear it twice.

My heart sings the same tune, and then I realize: how did I expect him to stay in touch and continue on with our lives when part of us would always be looking back at each other.

“I should go,” I try to keep my voice steady. “It’s getting late and Deanna’s coming home soon and I have to-“

“Okay,” he says but the word is laced with more. It’s okay.

“Okay.” I return. Will it be?

Silence again. The tears coating my lashes land on my cheeks and I wipe it away.

“I like hearing your voice,” Harry says.

“Me too,” I sniff.

“Goodnight y/n y/l/n.”

“Goodnight Har.”

***

I meant to text Harry after that conversation. I meant to apologize or say something—create a bridge that we can meet in the middle of. Even if it’s just as friends.

Me and him have been through a lot together, and so much on our own whilst around each other. We should be able to be friends, long-distance, pining but friends. It couldn’t be that hard.

And yet my fingers hover over his name every lunch break and bedtime. I think about him so much it becomes a permanent fixture in my brain.

And yet I never message him. Weeks go by and it stays quiet. Even from him.

On the final day on set I join some of the team for dinner and drinks. I stick to a single glass of wine and promise Damien I could drive myself home. I’d set him up with someone else on set who I noticed eyeing him with a lingering look and they had spent most of the night talking. It was sweet.

The group reminisces about the shoot and everyone pipes in about projects they were going to move onto soon. I didn’t have anything lined up right now so I listen to everyone else.

As night creeps up on us and people start to leave slowly, I text Deanna I was heading home too. After the night I spent drinking too much I’d taken to letting her know where I was and when I was heading home to make sure I stayed lucid enough on nights out. Otherwise we had agreed she would come and get me.

I step out with Damien and the girl he’s become attached to after tonight. We chat outside the place for a bit as her uber arrives and Damien points out he had driven today and parked nearby.

“I don’t know why we didn’t walk up long time ago,” I laugh and turn to Damien. “Don’t worry Damien I don’t need you to drive me home this time.”

“Uhh that’s good,” he says and motions behind me to my car with widened eyes.

“Yes,” I say with a smile. I spin around to my car and freeze.

The last person I ever expected to see leans against my passenger door, arms crossed and smiling with that smile that says I see you and I don’t care what you’re doing but I’m glad I’m here with you.

“Hi,” Harry says softly, his eyes twinkling under the street light.

“Hi?” I gape. “Wh-how-what are you…oh my god!”

His smile grows to a full grin as I throw myself at him and it’s like my mind and my whole world quiets. Like I never knew how loud everything was up until I felt the silence in his arms. Like everything would be okay because he was here.

“Oh god,” I turn back to Damien, remembering he was here too. “Sorry—I wasn’t expecting him to be here-“

“Is this Harry?” Damien asks.

I look at Harry and nod in response. Harry’s eyes flash with something as he leans forward and shakes Damien’s hand.

“I didn’t realize by Harry you meant Harry Styles uh it’s nice to meet you?” Damien’s awkwardness comes back in full force.

Harry’s eyes flicker between Damien and I and I remember that he thought there was something going on here.

“Damien and I worked together on set. Today’s actually our last day!”

“Yeah!” Damien fidgets. “It was a cool time…”

“Yeah?” Harry lights up slowly, realization dawning on him too. “Well I have to say thanks mate, for taking care of her the other night. That was you right?”

“Oh right when I picked up your call,” Damien nods. “Shit I didn’t realize who I was speaking to…” We laugh as Damien grows more awkward. “Anyway I’ll leave you two alone. G’night Y/N. Nice meeting you Harry.”

“Goodnight!” I wave him off.

I turn back to Harry with a huge grin. “You totally thought he was with me didn’t you?”

“Can you blame me?” He asks, his hand coming down on my waist, tugging me towards him. I go without hesitation.

“You’re here,” I take his face in my hands. “How? Why? When? Tell me everything.”

“I was in town,” he starts.

“Really?” I raise a brow.

He laughs, and hearing it rumble through his chest while his arms encircle me feels like a shot of espresso straight to my heart.

"Y/n," his mouth forms my name. I want to taste the way that feels again. See if that's changed too.

"You're here."

"How did you know?" I ask even though I knew it had to be Deanna.

“I have my sources,” he smiles secretly. We can’t stop smiling.

He brushes my hair to the side and it feels like a dream. He was here. He was gathering my face in his hands, hands I only dreamed of.

“I was in town,” he begins again. “Because I couldn’t stop thinking of you.”

My breath catches and I can't stop staring at him; he looks even more handsome and chiseled than the last time I saw him.

He looked like something that made my heart sing and my stomach tingle.

I trace my hand up his arm and around his shoulder. I want him to kiss me, I want to feel his arms around me.

He laughs which makes me laugh but neither of us take our eyes off of each other.

He reaches up, fingers threading through my hair. "Is this okay?"

"You're always okay," | say which makes him laugh again. What I mean to say is we're okay. Whatever you want to do is okay, as long as it's with me.

"I missed you." He whispers in my ear and it travels right to the centre of my heart.

"Prove it." I respond.

His mouth is delicate as it presses against mine, whispering soft words against them. They make me ache with a hunger I'd only ever felt around him.

When he looks at me again his eyes are more black then green but I recognize them the same. I don’t know how we’re going to make the trip back home when clearly we just want to soak each other in again.

I have an idea.

I open the backseat and Harry looks at me with a mischievous smile.

“Really?”

“You’re not getting lucky,” I roll my eyes with a smile. “But I really want to kiss you indecently and this is the closest place to do that.”

With a laugh he hustles in, tossing something in the backseat, and I follow, every inch of my body aflame. He shuts the door behind me and meets me halfway.

***

Waking up to Harry is better than catching up with him last night. Because things are so much more real when they remain the morning after. It doesn’t feel like just a dream.

“G’morning,” he mumbles when our eyes meet. He looks sleepy but content. Or maybe that’s just how I feel.

“Morning,” I smile, suddenly feeling shy. Last night was all passion and fun but the reality sets in this morning—what were we? Where were we going from here? “M’gonna brush my teeth.”

He follows me into the bathroom, luckily Deanna’s already headed off for work. He brushes with me in the small sink and we can’t stop looking at each other through the mirror. Like our eyes were magnets and they couldn’t help but find their way to the other’s.

“So did you really come all this way for me?” I ask as I brew us coffee. “Does anybody know you’re here?”

He tilts his head, “a couple people know I’m here but everyone thinks I’m just taking some time before we wrap up my album next month.”

“What!” I stop what I’m doing to give him my full attention. “You’re nearly done?”

“Yeah!” He comes closer to me, taking the coffee pot from my hand. “Final sound editing at the studio up north. So I’m s’pose to be here next month anyway but I’m just here early. For you.”

I’m afraid to ask, did that mean he was all mine for the next couple weeks of November? But the moment passes and I continue putting together a breakfast.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” I say for the millionth time.

“Me too,” he kisses the side of my neck and helps me carry our coffees to the table. “I intend to spend as much time with you as possible.”

He answers my unasked question and I feel like I’m glowing from the inside. “Yeah well I just finished on set so I’m unemployed until the next thing I’m on. So I’m all yours.”

“How’s that all going? Tell me.”

So I do. I take him through the sets I’ve been on and the people I’ve worked with. He asks great questions and I feel so deeply seen and not just because he doesn’t take his eyes off of me once.

The conversation leads to a repeat of last night and we end up spending most of the day in bed but I wasn’t complaining.

“I haven’t done this in ages,” he says with a kiss on my head. “Just stayed wrapped up in sheets all day.”

“I think the last time I did this was in London, with you.” I kiss his chin. “That feels so long ago.”

“Every day without you feels so long,” Harry says. “I shouldn’t have let it get this long.”

I shrug, “Yeah. I think I convinced myself it was good. We were fine like that. But now that I have you my god that was too long.”

He chuckles and pulls me into a deeper kiss. He tastes like sleepy familiarity and his hands grip me in places that have made a home for his fingers. I think I was in love with this man.

“What?” Harry asks. I must have paused. “You alright?”

“Yeah yeah,” I go back to kissing him but he pulls away. “No I’m fine! Promise.”

He believes me.

We spend a few days just doing nothing but everything with each other. I introduce him to Deanna and we do dinner together with Harry in a costume so he doesn’t get recognized. Deanna finds it very amusing and so do I. Harry seems tense and I worry it’s because we’re laughing at him but he reassures me it’s not.

I know it wasn’t going to last forever, Harry had a busy life to get back to, but I savour the slow moment we have all to ourselves.

Near the end of the week, while I’m driving us out to a hiking spot Harry brings up something on his mind.

“Can I say something, and you can’t get mad?”

“Well I can’t guarantee that.”

“Try not to?” He asks.

“Maybe.” I can’t promise him that.

“Fine I’ll settle with maybe,” he jokes.

“So are you going to tell me?” I eye him as I pull into the parking lot. He had gone silent.

“Yes, I’m getting to that.” He bites his lip. “Don’t take this the wrong way but you seem a bit distant. Not from me just…from yourself.”

“I seem distant from myself?” I laugh.

“Yeah,” he fidgets with his belt and we exit the car. “Like the y/n I know is only 70% there.”

“What?!”

“No see now don’t go getting mad love,” he says and his pet name only softens the moment slightly. “I just wonder if you’re really alright.”

“Of course I am,” I bristle.

“You always have this fire about you but right now-.”

“Jeez Har, if you’re comparing me to before in London I was more high strung than usual, constantly stressed and having personal issues with my ex. And you were making my life hell. Why are you comparing me to her?”

“No I know!” Harry tries to hold my arm but I brush him off and speed away down the trail. But his stupid long legs catch up easily. “This isn’t coming out how I meant to. But even when we were together last spring. You were still you. You just seem a little sad?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I pull away from him more. “You can’t go MIA for months then pop back into my life and tell me I’ve changed like it’s a bad thing.”

“Y/n you’re purposely not understanding me here,” Harry starts to grow frustrated beside me and it makes me less frustrated sharing the emotion. Like I said—I was very healthy. “I’m not saying you’ve changed. Or that changing is a bad thing! I think you’re a lot more confident and stronger than ever before. I’m just saying your light’s been a bit dimmer in the time I’ve been with you and I’m worried you’re going through something you’re not sharing.”

“Oh my god,” I feel tears prick my eyes and I blink them away before stuffing my glasses onto my face. “My light’s been dimmer? Seriously? I’m fine. I’m okay Harry. You don’t have to worry-“

“But I want to-“

“Well you don’t. And it’s a little late to try and pry me open and dissect what you think is wrong with me.”

“Well I’ve already pried you open it’s the dissecting part that—ow!”

I’ve hit him with my bottle and he shuts up. He was so not funny.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes. “But I’m here if you want to talk.”

Too little too late, I think bitterly. And the strength of the bitterness surprises me. I stay quiet, not wanting to spew anything I’ll regret later. He trails behind, giving me the space I need.

Apparently I was bitter about our time apart. But I know that wasn’t entirely his fault—I’d admitted to pushing him away because I’d been too embarrassed. Too stubborn to accept I could use his help. So what was it?

I didn’t think I was any less myself than I was a year ago. But as soon as I think it I know it’s untrue.

I sigh and let the sunlight filtering through the coastal oaks and shrubbery warm my skin. Harry continued a steady pace behind me and I feel slightly sorry for getting so defensive.

I continue one step at a time on the worn path walked by so many. I’d done this several times with friends and it was supposed to be special doing it with Harry but I’ve just ruined it.

I ruined it.

If I was any lesser than in my personality, like Harry said, it was probably because I ruined things. And I was upset with myself. I feel like I let Harry go, that I failed at the career I thought I was going to spend a lifetime. I ruined the thing between Harry and I with pride, by pushing him away! And life’s beaten me down with it.

I haven’t been being very honest with myself. Because the truth did hurt. And I’ve been a wimp.

I glance back at Harry but his head his down, his head of curls bouncing at the effort of the uphill slope. My heart floods with warmth just looking at him and I can’t believe I’ve been an idiot.

“Harry,” I stop in the middle of the trail and he nearly bumps into me. He steadies himself on my shoulder and I grasp his hand there before he can remove it. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a bitch back there.”

“It’s alright.” He squeezes my shoulder, but his eyes are still wary. “I shouldn’t have been so insensitive. I do that sometimes.”

“No,” I rush to answer. “No you have a point. And I don’t expect you to ever stop calling me out-“

“Likewise,” he gives me a small smile that feels like relief.

“You’re right. I just don’t think I’ve sat long enough to accept it.”

His finger brushes my cheek, wiping the fallen tear. I was not supposed to cry!

“Let’s keep going,” he suggests and I’m grateful for that.

“I think,” I sniffle as my body strains to finish the final stretch of our hike. “I feel like I should be happy and grateful for where I am now. I’m actually really passionate about this new work I’ve been taking on! But a part of me feels like I’m going through the motions. And that makes me feel so shitty.”

My life in London had crashed and burned but it had felt full. Out here I was so spread apart from everyone, I no longer worked at a steady job, and the only person I had was Deanna. Sometimes I think I relied on her too much.

“I think you expect too much of yourself,” Harry puts his hand around my shoulder as we near the end and even though I’m sweaty and it’s kind of gross I let him. “I know how that goes.”

“Yeah maybe,” I brush away another tear. “I just don’t feel very present. I’m either living in the future or living in the past.”

Harry’s face twists into what I can only describe as a knowing grimace.

“Well we made it,” I gesture to the open water below us. We stand for a little while, breathing it in. It reminds me of the first music video set I’d been on with him. When we were getting along and he had seen my enthusiasm for that sort of thing.

“I’ve been living in the past a lot.” Harry admits. “More than usual.”

“Why?” I ask.

“Y/n,” he says and I turn to look at him. Right, I flush. Me.

“What the fuck did we do to each other?” I ask and we laugh. And then laugh some more, releasing a tension neither of us realized we were carrying.

We end up sitting in the ground catching our breaths again. He pulls me into his chest and kisses the top of my head.

“I don’t know how we keep screwing up.”

“It should be a record,” I laugh. “We really don’t know how to deal with each other.”

“Fucking hell,” he laughs.

“What do we do?” I look up into his eyes that are deeper than the forest we hiked through. They’re so full of love that I could drown in them willingly.

“Firstly I should tell you something, long overdue.” He says. He kisses me with a sweetness before telling me, “I’m madly in love with you. I never thought I could feel this way about someone.”

“Well I don’t know how that someone could be me,” I joke but mostly to cover up just how hard his words hit.

“You wound up in my life when I was at my worst-“

“And taken you even lower,” I joke again.

“No.” He brushes my cheek. “No, that was my own doing. You made me believe I could be better. That I should be better, that I shouldn’t be defined by past mistakes. I love you y/n.”

Woah. I wasn’t expecting that.

I scramble to sit up and face him. “Seriously?”

“So serious.”

“Harry,” I hold his face in my hands. It was true, something I barely admitted to myself but as I roll the words through my head it feels true.

“Don’t feel pressured to-“

“I love you too Harry. God. I love you. That felt good to say.”

He laughs and pulls me to him, and even though we’re smiling too hard to actually get a proper kiss in it’s one of the most romantic moments of my life.

“I don’t think this is going to solve our issues,” he says once we’ve dusted ourselves off and prepare to say goodbye to the view. “But I want to try to stay connected.”

“You’ve told me you love me there’s no getting rid of me now.” I warn him.

“I was scared,” he confesses. “I never told you I wanted you to stay. That I wanted you so fucking badly because I was scared you would get so overwhelmed by my life, how much is in the public eye and all of that. I don’t want to subject you to that-“

“We’ve already been papped together remember?” I raise a brow. He blushes as the memory surfaces.

“The night I acted like a complete arse yeah thanks for reminding me.”

“Look at you blushing,” I pat his cheek. He brushes me off. “But I know what I’m getting myself into Harry. I’ve worked for you! I know how public your life is. And we can figure it out.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!” I reassure him.

“Does that mean…?”

“What are you asking Mr. Styles?”

“Please don’t call me that again,” he groans. “I don’t want to be Mr. Styles to you anymore.”

“No?”

“Only if you’d be Mrs. Styles.”

Now it’s my turn to flush. He laughs at me the same way I did him.

“Harry I barely know what I’m doing with my life. But I do know I love you, and I want to be with you. So I’ll figure the life stuff out as long as I get to have you.”

“That’s very romantic.” He teases.

“I know,” I smile.

“Good. I’d give up the life I have now if it means getting to have you Y/N.”

“Romantic enough,” I tease.

“Remember when we realized we had been at the same Coldplay concert and-“

“Not this again,” I groan. “I’m not bloody asking you to give up your fame and money to start a family.”

“I know I know!” He laughs. “But I just want to tell you that you could. I wouldn’t mind.”

I fan myself, “It’s getting too romantic. Let’s get out of here.”

And that’s the note on which we make our way back down to our car, completely different how we made our way up. It sets the tone for the remainder of his time here.

8 months later:

“G’morning!” I wave to the front desk and walk to the elevator that would take me up to the apartment I called home now. It was spring in the city I’ve grown to love again.

“Is that you?” Harry’s voice calls out when I walk to the kitchen.

“Yes! And I have coffee!” I shout back. I couldn’t sleep last night—first day jitters that I always got when working on a new set.

“Bollocks!” Harry’s voice sounds closer. “I was supposed to do that for you for first day on set.”

“Too bad,” I push the coffee towards him on the island but he ignores it to come to me instead.

“Is it?” He arches a brow. His hands are already running up my sides and my breathing grows shallow. He never failed to pull this reaction from me. Even when we “hated” each other.

I can’t take the teasing so I lean up to press my mouth to his and the coffee is forgotten as he lifts me up on the island and trails his lips down my body. I didn’t need caffeine when I had this.

No. Wait. I had a job to get to.

“Harry,” I try to grab his face back up. “Harry, love, I can’t-fuck.”

“Sorry,” he smiles up at me sheepishly and if I could take a shot of that face it would seriously sustain me for the rest if my life.

“I can’t.” I pout.

“I know. Sorry I got carried away.”

“Drink your coffee,” I steal one last kiss. “Now I feel like I need a cold shower.”

His laugh echoes through the room. “I said I was sorry!”

He dramatically moves to the opposite end of the island and sits down, holding the coffee up to his face. “Mmmm.”

I smile at the man who had my soul and heart. I was so glad I’d made the plunge to move back to where he was.

After Harry left the States when he finished his album we had tried our best at long-distance. I was afraid to uproot my life to London again and he was willing to move out to San Francisco but I didn’t want him to. I knew his life was in London.

We tried going back and forth for a couple months. I’d invited him back home to Burbank during one of those trips and everyone had hit it off. It almost felt like the missing piece I was looking for to take the plunge. To decide once and for all I was moving away again.

The last time I moved I was running away from everything I knew because I thought it would gain me independence and a life I craved. But ultimately I came crawling back home.

This time I take the leap running to something.

I miss being closer to family, and living with my best friend. I beg Deanna to visit every time we catch up but recently she’s told me she’s moving in with the guy she’s been dating and it makes me feel less bad about leaving her behind again.

Harry decided to move his work life out of the flat to give me privacy, now his team worked out of a small office in central and sometimes I popped by when he was there. We tried to keep ourselves out of the limelight, and so far things had stayed private.

“I’m going to pick you up tonight,” Harry reminds me. “Are you sure I can’t give you a lift there too?”

“No I want to take the train,” I insist. I needed my first day to be independently mine.

We chit chat as we finish breakfast and then I’m out the door again towards my first day. It’s a cool morning but the sun climbs into the sky and I know it was only going to get warmer.

I had promised the city that I’d be back one day and this was it. I had laid down roots once before and I was back to try once more; my heart was open enough to embrace it, healed enough to love it again.

I was embracing life again and it felt like my glow was back.

Jeff keeps asking if you’re showing up to the album launch, Harry texts.

Obviously, does Jeff not want me there? I text—it was a running joke between us ever since we came out to Jeff that he hated us together. His reaction had been surprise and then resignation. He was tight-lipped about us any time he saw us together.

He’d rather you throw the party.

I didn’t miss that part of the job. Now when I look back at my old career I’m not sure how I did it for years. It was a stress I didn’t want back.

He’d have to pay me a million dollars, I text back.

I’ll let him know your new rates

I get to the tube and sit down. As I lose service I get one last text from Harry.

I love you. Break a leg

And then: but don’t get concussed or anything

I roll my eyes but the smile stays on my face. To be loved is to be known but to be loved is also to have someone else know all of your stupid moments and know you won’t ever live them down.

I send back a heart and an eye-roll emoji.

The tradeoff was worth it…most of the time.

[brian-in-finance]

Photo: Patch Bell

Outlander and Karen Pirie star Lauren Lyle on her self-belief and taking the leap to pursue her dream

Nominated for two awards at the Scottish Baftas this evening, Lauren Lyle promises it will be a celebration no matter the outcome.

The Glasgow actress has grafted hard to enjoy a remarkable rise over recent years, headlined by her first leading role in Karen Pirie, the acclaimed St Andrews-set crime drama based on Val McDermid’s novels.

Next year is set to be the 30-year-old star’s biggest yet, with several leading roles in film and TV, including a second series of Karen Pirie, so now seems like a good time to pause and look back on her career so far.

“I moved to London at 19 and if I’d told myself then that I’d have my own TV show, had done one of the biggest shows in America (Outlander) and would be working all the time, I don’t think I would have believed it,” she smiled.

“I would have thought I’d needed to have done something terrible to have got here, but I just worked really hard. I’m working on a show called Toxic Town for Netflix, which has Rory Kinnear and Jodie Whittaker in it, and I asked both what their secret is. They said they didn’t know, they just keep working, and they’re testament to doing great work and not trying to be famous.

“Rory told me he always wanted to be known for being good, and I’m the same. I’m trying to pick good things and be in quality stuff, things that excite me and getting to work with good people.

“I came to London to audition for drama schools and came close but didn’t get in. I think I’d only been to London once before as a kid but didn’t remember it. I was so hungry for it, and being around other actors in this world was so thrilling and I knew this was what I wanted to do and the place to do it.”

Taking the plunge

Lauren moved into a shared house with four people she hadn’t previously met. She took on several jobs to pay the bills while trying to engineer a break, joining a theatre company and eager to learn.

Photo: Patch Bell

“It was a risk but I put my head down and grafted hard,” she said. “I think I’ve always had deluded confidence that I can do something. My mum is a school PE teacher and I was a gymnast and runner and I’ve always been competitive to win the race, but that’s not helpful at times because there isn’t a finishing line or right answer here; there’s lots of different ways to do this, so I’ve had to put those feelings aside at times.

“I had a big agent for about a year before I got a job, and then two came within two or three weeks of each other – Outlander and Broke, with Sean Bean – and my life changed. I did my tax return for that year and realised I’d done about six jobs – dog walker, flyering, receptionist, in Zara’s stock room for 18 months. Random stuff that I did for ages.

“It was bleak at times but I loved going to the theatre and seeing this life dangled in front of me. It was quite inspiring.”

Karen Pirie

Lauren’s recurring role as Marsali in Outlander was her break, while BBC thriller Vigil, where she played activist Jade, introduced her to a different audience. When Karen Pirie came along last year, she felt ready.

“I’m so proud to be part of the show. It was so well made, beautifully shot, and with a crew who were hungry to be there. It was my first lead and I had creative control around what she looked like and who she was,” Lauren explained.

“The director, Gareth Bryn, writer Emer Kenny – who also executive produced – and myself were constantly in conversation. We all had such a brilliant time, and it was a story that meant something and said something of young women.

“It was about a young woman trying to solve a crime about another young woman, so Karen knew what it’s like to be afraid to walk home alone at night, and how a young person can be underestimated in the workplace and how difficult it can be to prove themselves.”

Photo: ITV

Based on Val McDermid’s novel The Distant Echo – about the cold case investigation of a 19-year-old woman’s death which is reopened and given to DS Karen Pirie after a podcast cast doubt on the original investigation – it was a Sunday night hit for ITV last year.

“Val has been complimentary and incredibly supportive of me,” Lauren continued. “She had to sign off on me playing the character. I was worried if she would be happy with the Methil accent. She visited the set and I prepared myself, but she said I was very good.

“She messaged me on Twitter when the awards nominations were announced and congratulated me and said we would need to go for a drink. I’d love to have a drink with her – I’m sure she would have some great stories!”

Scottish Baftas

The drink will be flowing this evening at the Scottish Baftas in Glasgow where, in addition to Lauren’s two nominations, Karen Pirie is also in the fiction director and scripted television categories.

“The show came out too late for the 2022 awards, but it’s nice that we’ve since announced a second series. We have a big Karen Pirie table. My parents are coming – my dad has a new velvet jacket to go with his tartan troos – as is my boyfriend, who is South-African-Australian, but we’ve recently discovered he has lots of Scottish heritage, so he might wear a kilt, and my agent will be there, too.

“Everyone is dead excited and the whole team is there to celebrate.”

Lauren’s nomination in the Audience Award category sees her vying with Brian Cox, Lewis Capaldi, Tony Curran, Hamza Yassin and Meryl Williams.

“To be in a category with Brian, Lewis and the legend that is Meryl from The Traitors, I feel that’s the only time in my life this will happen. I’m tempted to say to Brian that if he ever needs me to play his granddaughter or daughter, I’m here. Someone should cast us all as a family.”

New projects

With a second series of Karen Pirie expected to start shooting early next year and a rumoured return for the final series of Outlander – “we may be talking, who knows” is all Lauren will say – 2024 will be another busy one for her.

She will follow up her first starring role in a movie, Mercy Falls, which was released earlier this month, with another two movies to be released next year – thriller Something In The Water and The Outrun, with Saoirse Ronan and Jack Lowden.

Photo: Robert Wilson / Starz

“We filmed Something In The Water in the Dominican Republic. It’s like Bridesmaids but a thriller. The Outrun was filmed on Orkney. Saoirse and Jack saw me in Vigil and asked if I’d be part of this film, which is the first from their production company.

“I had to get the Orkney accent just right. At the first read-through, Amy Liptrot, the writer of the book it’s based on, said it needed to be a bit less Shetland and a bit more Orkney, so I went away and made sure it was right.

“Everyone was so welcoming on Orkney. The beaches were ridiculous. I was stung by a weever fish, which apparently is an unusual thing to happen. My foot was on fire for a day.

“I’ve also been making Toxic Town, a new series for Netflix which is about the Corby poisonings, one of the UK’s biggest environmental scandals, which no-one really knows about. It’s about mothers in a David vs Goliath battle for justice, and I’m wearing lots of ‘90s and ‘00s power suits.

“As well as Jodie and Rory, it has people like Aimee Lou Wood from Sex Education, Joe Dempsie from Skins, Claudia Jessie from Bridgerton, Michael Socha from This Is England, and Robert Carlyle, who is the nicest man in the world.”

Shooting in Scotland

Despite living in London, Lauren finds many of her jobs are being shot in Scotland, which she’s happy to see.

“Nowhere looks like Scotland and a lot of productions are coming here for that reason,” she added. “It’s really cool to see it happening and it’s a testament to the quality of workers you get here.

“Plus, it gives me a free trip home to see my family.”

Photo: Stuart Wallace / Shutterstock

At last year’s Scottish Baftas, Dunkirk and The Gold actor Jack Lowden spoke glowingly about Lauren Lyle.

The pair have since become friends and colleagues, and Lauren is keen to support new talent coming through in Scotland just as Jack did with her.

Speaking about this evening’s Scottish Baftas, Lauren said: “Me and Jack were talking about how great it is to get a lot of Scots in a room to congratulate each other, all these people doing well from this proud place, on international stages representing our country, heritage and culture, which we’re so proud of.

“It’s a great opportunity to shake everyone’s hands and say ‘aren’t we an amazing team?’

“I want to know who the other young people are. We’d like to be able to speak to the younger Scottish actors and welcome them in. Jack did that with me – talking about me, being supportive and asking me to be part of his film. I don’t know if we’d met at the point he spoke about me at the Scottish Baftas. I was very flattered.

“He and Saoirse have been really cool and supportive, and I hope to do the same at some point. With season two of Karen Pirie coming, I message its writer, Emer Kenny, and tell her to keep an eye out for this guy and this girl.”

Remember… she will follow up her first starring role in a movie, Mercy Falls, which was released earlier this month, with another two movies to be released next year – thriller Something In The Water and The Outrun, with Saoirse Ronan and Jack Lowden. — The Sunday Post

[insidemymind19]

How about reader is a singer and she’s headlining Glastonbury and matty is there to support her and it’s just soft and fluffy

Ahhh my first request thank you so much anon🫶

My first time writing all feedback is welcome (apologies if this is bad or cringe)

You’ve been a singer for years with some great success which you’re eternally grateful for but you never thought you’d get the this the opportunity the chance of a lifetime. Headlining Glastonbury one of the largest festivals in the world, somewhere you spent many of your teenage years watching bands and musicians who have nourished you into the person you are today. As your set approaches closer you are nervous and of course your boyfriend Matty can tell he knows you better than anyone else he understands he knows if he was in your shoes he’d feel the exact same. Slowly approaching you wrapping one of his hands around your waist the other coming to your wrist to stop you biting your nails a nasty habit he has picked up on when you’re nervous. “Baby Calm down you’re going to be fine” he coos softly in your ear “you know what you’re doing your one of the best young musicians in the world at the moment that’s why you’re in this position” “there’s no one that deserves it more” he quips softly kissing your neck. You relish in the moment. Just then your perfect bubble is interrupted by your manager telling you you’re on stage now. “You’re going to do amazing angel I know it” matty lovingly says placing a soft kiss on your lips.

The second you step on stage your nerves disappear stepping into autopilot and performing from your Perspective a perfect performance sending Matty glances and winks during certain songs that you know the fans will pick up on later but in that moment you don’t care.

You get of stage absolutely elated thinking ‘I’ve just headlined Glastonbury’ the post show adrenaline pumping through your veins. You embrace your team as they congratulate you and out of the corner of eye you see him. “Darling you were absolutely amazing out there wow just perfect” you hear him say as you give him the largest most loving embrace the emotions of what’s just happened coming to bay tears threatening to spill from your eyes matty pulls away and looks at you eyes full of concern. “Sorry I just can’t believe that’s just happened” you quickly say before he can question your well-being. “Baby you were absolutely mesmerising out there I truly can’t believe I get to call you mine” he says “I love you my muse” you say expressing just how you feel in that moment “I love you too baby I’m so proud of you” matty replies back making your heart swell.

Thank you so much for reading my first little blurb thing ❤️

[makenzie-ash]

Familiar (Dabi)

You looked at the dozens of photos scattered across your desk. The blurry ones were completely useless, but you had to keep them in the file for some reason—the others could lead to something, but nothing that could make a good case. You rubbed the bridge of your nose, your head was starting to hurt.

“Detective?” Your intern’s voice brought you back to reality. You looked at him. He had a worried look in his eyes. 

“Yes, Kenzo?” You smiled at him. He had been working for you for about two months now, so he had grown accustomed to your reverie. Though, he never seemed to get used to it. You were older than him by a couple of years, but he still seemed more mature sometimes. 

“It’s six o’clock. You usually leave at five, so I came to see if you were okay.”

“I’m alright,” you sighed, “go ahead and leave, I’ll see you on Monday.”

“Whatever you say, Detective.” His eyes told you he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t. Instead, he smoothed down his shirt and turned towards the elevators, throwing a “good night” over his shoulder as he did so. 

You brought your attention to the pictures again. You knew exactly who was in the photos, a criminal named Dabi, but, conveniently, none of the photographs showed his whole face. None of them ever went past his nose. 

You started to sort the pictures into two piles, ones where you could see him clearly and ones where you couldn’t. This would be your last task for the night. You could feel your headache coming back.

The photo at the bottom of the stack was the clearest one you had. A victim of Dabi had taken it on her phone, but her thumb was covering most of his face. He had a smirk on his face, proud of what he was doing.

When you finish placing the photos into piles, you put the file into your desk drawer. Maybe a weekend away from your stressful work is just what you need to refresh your mind and come back to work with a clear head. You could even go to that new spa in town. One of your co-workers said that a massage was her go-to stress reliever, so what’s the harm in trying?

You grabbed your bag and walked to the elevators. Pushing the “1” button, you started to scroll on your phone. You came across an article, the headline in big bold letters… 

“Evasive Criminal Outsmarting the Police”

You didn’t click on it. You already knew it was about Dabi. The public was outraged that a dangerous criminal was running around and the police seemed to be doing nothing about it. The excuse “We don’t have enough evidence” was starting to sound like the police were lazy, and honestly, they were. You felt like you were the only one trying to find him. Kenzo was a big help, of course, but he can only do so much as an intern.

You put your phone back into your bag. You wanted a stress-free weekend and these articles weren’t helping.

***

As you walked out of the doors of the station, you could see the sun was already starting to set. It wasn’t dark yet, but it would be soon. You started your walk home.

Walking home was the best part of your day. It gave you time to decompress from work. You didn’t need to, but you always felt something was missing when you drove or took public transport.

You hadn’t been walking long before you began to sense someone behind you. It didn’t worry you at first, this was a public street after all. There were always pedestrians walking these streets, no matter the time. This shouldn’t bother you, but as you got farther away from when you originally noticed, you could tell they were still following you. You turned, but there was no one behind you.

You started walking forward again, a little faster this time. You dug around in your bag, pulling out a knife you carried as inconspicuously as you could. You could hear footsteps behind you, and they were getting closer.

You felt a hand on your shoulder, and at the same time, you turned, knife in hand. You stopped when the knife was pressed up against your assailant's neck. Their hand froze in the air.

“Easy, killer.” A gravelly voice said. There was a smirk on his face, matching the one in his picture, one you had been chasing for months. You knew exactly who you were looking at, the unfinished portrait in all the photographs.

Dabi. The Evasive Criminal.

“What the fuck do you want?” You asked, snapping you out of your surprise.

“Just to chat, Detective.”

He had some nerve. He’s been running from the cops, from you, just to show up, wanting to “chat”. You should be the one doing the talking, not him. You pressed the knife harder against his skin, not enough to break it, but enough to hurt. He winced slightly, but the smirk returned to his face just as quickly.

“You’re bold. Following a lead detective home. I saw two police officers on my way here, I could scream and they’ll come running.” You didn’t actually believe that. Those police officers were too busy gossiping to worry about public safety.

“You wouldn’t.” His tone made it sound like his statement was the most obvious thing in the world.

“How would you know?” You glared at him.

“Because you want to know what I have to say. You’re the curious type,” he paused, looking you in the eyes, “you always have been.”

What did he mean, you always had been? He doesn’t know the first thing about you. This was a stranger to you. This is the first time you're even seeing him in person, right?

Before you registered what he was doing, he already had your knife in his hand, the pointed end pressed against your neck, and his other hand was on your shoulder, keeping you from backing away. You cursed yourself for getting distracted. You went through years of training for this not to happen. 

His smirk was gone, now being replaced by a nonchalant look, like he was bored.

“Can I talk now?”

You wanted to say no, to fight him off and yell for those officers, but you didn’t have your knife anymore. And the bastard was right too. You were curious. You nodded your head the best you could.

“Great,” he said, “How is it that you’ve been following me for a long time, and yet, you don’t know who I am?”

“I know who you are,” You huffed, “you’re Dabi.” Whatever game he was playing, you didn’t understand.

“Come on, Detective. Don’t be stupid.” He leaned closer.

You scoffed and slowly dragged your eyes across his face, studying him. Bits of black hair were falling onto his face, you could see a small amount of white near his scalp. He had three piercings on the side of his nose. His eyes were a bright shade of turquoise, and, thanks to how close he was, you could see small flecks of gray. They seemed to glow, despite the night growing dark.

The more you looked, the more you realized there was something familiar about him. His hair, his eyes, even the way he smirked. You racked your brain for where you could remember him from. There has to be something.

Then it hit you. Those eyes gave him away. You could remember seeing them years ago, though, then, they were more teary and sad. His hair was way lighter then, too. 

Your old friend, Touya, who died when you were thirteen.

He must have seen the recognition on your face because his eyes softened. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but a voice interrupted you.

“Hey!” 

As if he was never there, Dabi (Touya?) disappeared into a nearby alleyway, and the knife dropped to the ground. You looked up at the person who yelled. She stood in front of you, a concerned look on her face.

“Are you ok?” She asked.

“Um, yeah, I am.” You blinked, giving her an unconvincing smile. You could hear your voice shake.

“Are you sure? I can walk with you to the police-”

“No!” You said, probably a little too loudly. You cleared your throat. “I’m fine, really. I’ll handle it, thank you.”

“Ok…” She said, hesitantly turning to her friends. “Walk home safe, I guess.”

You watched as she walked. When she turned, you looked into the alleyway, but you could tell he was gone. He had gotten away from you again, but this time it was different. 

You weren’t only looking for Dabi, the evasive criminal anymore.

You were looking for Touya, your best friend.