#new wave mutuals mutuals who like new wave have u heard this

[cultreslut]

HACEME UN LIMPIA POR FAVOR......AMOR....DESPÓNJAME DE TODO MALL CAARRNALLLL....QUENA MI RAMO POR FAVOR......AMOR......ANTES QUE YO TE QUEMA A TÍ AAAAAAA TÍÍÍÍÍ

[stevebabey]

CONGRATULATIONS RUBY!!! You're one of my favorite authors so I trust that you'll make something amazing out of this request (if you like it and feel like writing it, no pressure)

❤️‍🔥 with “Nobody in the world has hands this soft.”

just a little steve hand appreciation blurb (bonus points if you include comparing hands with him!!!)

M!!!! AHHH THANK U ANGEL!! im literally so :')) rn u are so very talented so it really means the world for me to hear u like what i write!! your bonus point suggestion like shaped this whole blurb im so glad u included it & omg its the first to break 1k+ words. i went for mutual pining besties bcos i've only written established relationship so far ! enjoy my dear!!! <3

You can’t believe you’re listening to advice from a 14-year old.

It feels like a new low. The idea that you can’t figure out the flirting thing on your own combined with the fact it’s your kid friend Dustin who seems to have a mountain-load of advice makes you feel— well, less than stellar.

But times are tough. And shit, it’s not actually bad advice.

Besides, despite Steve being your best friend, you’ll admit Dustin and him are close as well. Close enough that you made Dustin swear not to rat out your feelings to Steve at the first opportune moment.

He’d scoffed, then very reluctantly agreed. Seemed miffed you wouldn’t let him play matchmaker. Then set to work formulating a perfect plan on how you were to woo Steve — though he insisted you really didn’t need to because Steve was already well and truly obsessed with you.

“Honest!” He had said, eyes bright, and with that familiar cocky smile like he knew more than you. Which, in this case, might be true.

“Steve’s crazy for you, I can tell. He once gave this whole talk about,” Dustin waved his hands around. “Electricity. It’s a whole thing with him. Just trust me, you guys have it.”

Which leads to the here and now. You’re in the passenger seat of Steve’s beemer, the drive-in screen glowing ahead of you, just out the windshield. It’s night time, the dark lit up by dozens of shiny neon signs dotted about around the drive-in keeping you cozy in the car.

There’s an advertisement for Scoops Ahoy! ice-cream, all red, white, and blue, nautical symbols in every corner on a board to your right; a crimson and mustard coloured hot-dog stand with bright lit bulbs around it and a comically large weiner atop it. Beside it is a less glammed up, but nevertheless, trusty popcorn stand.

One of the buckets from there sits between you two, balanced between the seats. Steve seems to be unaware of your inner turmoil, his interest in the film properly piqued as you debate internally on Dustin’s advice. The film is miles away to you, worrying your bottom lip as you reconsider Dustin’s words.

“Just, like... find a way to touch his hand. No, wait- compare hand sizes! That’s like the oldest flirt in the book.” He’d nodded with enough fervor you nearly didn’t question him. Nearly.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you’d asked. “And where did you hear that?”

“Suze.” He’d said plainly. “And Suzie said she heard it from the girls at one of her camps. And it worked on me, so it’ll work on Steve. He’s simple!”

So, how do you go about this? You’re not sure there’s a natural way to ask to compare hand sizes. This feels like a flirt you’d do if he was just a handsome stranger at a party and you had a couple tequila shots on your side for encouragement. Leaned against a wall, sultry giggles and seductive touches; that seems more fitted for the flirt you’re about to try.

But you’re Steve’s best friend, not a stranger, and there’s certainly no liquid courage in your veins. No party. Just you, armed with more butterflies in your stomach than you can count and the advice of a 14-year old. God, you’re screwed.

You steel yourself and steal a glance at Steve. He’s in that grey shirt you like, long sleeved with just two buttons up the top. Both of them are undone.

You feel a bit peaky at how it makes you flush, seeing a flash of his chest. Briefly, you wonder if he’s worn the shirt because he knows it’s one of your favourites. The thought provides no relief to your nerves.

You fix your eyes forward and miss the way Steve glances to check on you, a smile toying at his lips.

Coincidentally, when he reaches for the popcorn, so are you — and your hands brush in the middle, burning hot, and you startle at the touch. Steve’s already apologising, pulling his hand but in a moment, you see it clearly there; your segue.

“Your hands are so much bigger than mine,” You comment, with a quiet chuckle to seem casual, shifting yourself to face him better. Your stomach turns over with nerves and you have to force yourself to meet his eye.

You raise your hand a bit, palm facing him. “See?”

Steve’s pauses, only for a moment, but it’s enough to send your heart rocketing. Just as you’re about to retract your hand and hope to hide your crumpled pride, embarrassment stinging at your chest, Steve grins.

He chuckles and twists in his seat to face you, unfurling his hand and extending it out towards your own.

He wavers, hesitating just short of pressing his hand against yours and when your eyes dart up to his face, your stomach tightens up a bit more at what you find. Nervous, you think giddily, he’s nervous.

In another second the expression is gone and he presses his hand flush against yours.

“I think you might have the world’s smallest hands,” He jokes, curling his fingers over the top of yours just to prove the point. He’s wrong but compared to his large hands, you can see why it certainly might seem that way.

“I think you just have huge hands, Harrington,” You remark, enjoying the feeling of his hand against yours far too much.

The butterflies in your stomach have evolved into something bigger — some sort of lovebird that pecks at your heart and leaves it bleeding in your chest. The beat of its wings gets louder every second Steve doesn’t pull away. In fact, he leans in closer.

“Nope, it’s your hands, 100 percent.” He nods along, lips quirked into an amused smile. The film continues unnoticed, just flashes of light that illuminate the side of his face. Subconsciously, you lean closer into his space, nearly close enough that you could lean over and lay one of him. If you wanted.

Steve continues with a tease, “I’m serious! Nobody in the world has hands this small.”

“Nobody in the world has hands this soft.” You counter with a grin. It’s true, Steve’s hands aren’t at all like how you’d expected; instead of calloused and rough, they’re supple and soft. Like a lover, not a fighter.

It takes a moment to realise your slip. Your heart stutters and Steve’s eyes turn a little wide. His cheeks flush and the only comfort is the obvious delight on his features, even as he blushes pink. His eyes dart to your lips. You hold your breath.

“Yeah?” He asks and licks his lips. “I- I’ve, uh, heard— well, some would say the same about my lips.”

It’s not nearly as smooth as you’ve seen him be, words a bit fumbled. He screws his eyes shut for a moment, gathers his courage, then keeps going. His voice is quiet, eyes watching you closely. “Softest... yeah, softest in the world s’what they���ve said...”

If by some terrible tragedy you’ve misread this and he’s not asking for a kiss, you’ll happily let the ground swallow you up after this. But with the nervous gleam in his eye, his pink lips, and hand against yours, you think you like your odds.

You close your eyes, lean in, and think of luck.

And even if it was just a line, you have to agree; these are the softest lips you’ve ever kissed, and maybe in the entire world.

join the celebration <3!

[codename-adler]

i would Love to hear abt ur kathea wip :-) -dayurno

thank you @dayurno it’s an honor and thank you @fandomnerd101 i hope this provides what you also asked for <3

Adler’s PiPs ~ Project: Kathea 🌺

Kathea Lore 2:

Their 2nd “meeting” (1st being in therapy and vvv ugly) is when Kate and Aaron mutually break up after her return from the psych ward and his return from Thanksgiving (see dtyfstf); although the fic wouldn’t start there, that is the moment that created this spin-off ship/fic/project/AU.

Having heard how much shit the Foxes are going through, Thea flies in to check in on Kevin who has ghosted her (thus breaking her promise again of no-contact but way, way worse).

In a scene reminiscent of Andreil’s first meeting, Kate and Thea literally run into each other when Kate exits Aaron’s dorm so fast she slams door 317 into Thea and falls into her.

Because Kate is crying so hard and because Thea does not want their therapy group to get on her back any more than they already are, Thea puts her Kevin mission on hold and takes Kate back with her (idk where yet… hotel room? Bar? Diner? Cab?) to “support” her therapy mate.

Thea is the more surprised of the two at her decision to take Kate under her wing (u know like a raven).

Kate starts to believe Thea is not as bad/mean as she projects in group therapy.

Thea doesn’t understand why she went out of her way like that, why she acted so out of character, so she proceeds to /gently/ but firmly kick Kate out, call her an Uber, and the next time they see each other, weeks later, in group, Thea is cold and distant.

That's the main scene to be written at the moment, the thing that’ll start me up and show me the golden path of Kathea.

Miscellaneous thoughts:

To me they're like if a nymph (Katelyn) and a goddess (Thea) fell in love.

While it causes no real impact on Kate’s career (cheer + med) to be queer, Thea’s pro Exy career is highly at risk, what with already being an ex-Raven and a Black woman in a mixed sport; it’s important to me that we’re all aware of that; and thus despite both women being each other’s first sapphic/queer relationship, they have widely different backgrounds and stakes at play in committing (or not) to this new love.

Katelyn doesn’t want to see Thea as a threat, for herself, Aaron and the Vixens/Foxes, but sometimes the way Thea handles her past and present is scary, and Kate doesn’t know if Thea is trustworthy with everything (and Riko) going on; those who have read ‘dance ‘til you find someone to die for’ know why trust and betrayal are big issues in the Katheaverse.

However, Thea doesn’t know anything about the vastness of Riko's evils; her main tormentor has always been Tetsuji Moriyama. 

Riko acted the way all male Ravens (except Jean and Kevin) have always treated her: with misogyny and bigotry. Riko wasn’t special, not with her, not to her; but she doesn’t realize yet the Ravens were a cult, that it wasn’t normal, that she has repressed some things and that what is hurting her inside is also hurting others, whether fellow ex-Ravens like Jean and Kevin, or outsiders like Kate and Aaron who become collateral damage wave after wave Riko creates.

Of course I’m playing with the age gap between Thea (26-28) and Kate (20-22) because I think it’s very sexy and I’m self-projecting what I wish would happen to me love-wise 💅 I also previously thought about bringing up Thea’s trauma with younger partners (i.e., the whole Kevin grooming shitshow that was made-up by a-hole fans) to lay the issue to rest once and for all, but since some of y’all provoked Nora Sakavic into defending Queen Theodora Muldani and blasting y’all to dust, I don’t think I will! But who knows. It was important to me at one point, I’m just saying. More crumbs for you, eh.

Katelyn Young (Mackenzie) Lore:

Full name: Katelyn Beth Mackenzie Young

Height: 5’4”-5’5” to Thea’s 6’0” 😌

Career aspiration: Neonatology (Addison Montgomery did a lot for her)(and not just career wise *wink wink*)(she hasn’t realized that yet)(Thea is a lot like Addison u know *wink wink*)

Relationship history: before Aaron came along, her first real love, she had 2 boyfriends. Number 1 dared slap her twice before she ended things; Number 2 cheated on her with 4 different girls while they dated. Aaron was the first to treat her well, to heal a bit of her trust issues, to be completely devoted to her. They’re very important to me. I love my boyo Aaron and he deserves recognition for the love he gave Katelyn and fought for.

Kate is an only child from a very strict family; the parent she is closest to is her step-mother.

And that's what i got for now. A lot and nothing. But thank you again for enabling me. I love my girls. Again, if any of yous would like to request more of Kathea or more of a particular project, head over to my pinned post to see the list of 'Adler's Projects in Progress (PiPs)' and ask away!

[fxreflyes]

hi hi hi!! when you get this ask could you perhaps maybe bless us with 5 of ur fav songs (currently or of all time), and then send this ask to 5 of your moots who you think have good taste! <33

hi Elyse!!! Oh I adore music asks!!!! Thank you so much :’)

I have answered this here, here, and here a while ago now I think! (And here for some high school angst ones lol)

all time is v daunting and I attempted it horribly before so I am going to recommend u five songs that I have loved for a long time and think u might like but might not have heard? (I’m going off ur appreciation of new wave music… these r all so good loud w noise cancelling headphones :))

1. A night like this OR Maybe someday - the cure (you called me your the cure mutual… my loves must be included)

2. summer in Berlin OR A victory of love - alphaville (I love this album…)

3. Phantom bride - erasure (It is my mission to get everyone to like erasure.. if u don’t like this one I have many others 2 suggest .. this whole album is so good)

4. The breakup song - Greg kinh band (idk I heard this in middle school & I have been enamored w it… I think the guitar riff gets me)

5. Methadone pretty OR motorcycle emptiness - the manic street preachers

honorary 6th is yazoo’s mr blue!! And their song only you. 2 all time favs!!

(I managed to put 10 songs instead of five… but take ur pic :))

[tyonfs]

back-up valentine

❝ i may or may not have asked groot to help me surprise you for valentine’s day by getting an alien species to help serenade you. ❞

PAIRING ▸ spider-man!jeong jaehyun x fem!reader (ft. mark lee)

GENRES ▸ fluff, crack, spider-man au, best friends to lovers

WARNINGS ▸ profanity, mild descriptions of violence, mutual pining, jaehyun is spider-man bc he doesn’t have the ass to be captain america sorry, mark lee is very confused, avengers: endgame spoilers ahead !!

SUMMARY ▸ you don’t have any unrealistic expectations for valentine’s day considering your love life has never flourished, but the least your best friend could’ve done was not summon an intergalactic army of an alien species during your first blind date ever.

or, jeong jaehyun is not very good with romantic gestures.

PLAYLIST ▸ sunflower - spider-man: into the spider-verse by post malone, swae lee • paper rings by taylor swift 

WORD COUNT ▸ 2908 words

TAG LIST ▸ @leeknowsredeyeliner @wownajaemin @geniejunn @huangberryyy @halbae @sehunniepot @jjaeyoonoh @subhyuck @itskkung @lilacboba​ @channiedani​ @jaemboi64​ @n0hyuck​ @hyuckinx​ @domhyuckie​ 

AUTHOR’S NOTE ▸ this little drabble is a little overdue but it’s for jaehyun day and valentine’s day !! ♡ i know jaehyun + spider-man isn't the vision most of yall have but ?? i kinda see it ??? anyways i hope u guys like this !! 

YOU DIDN’T THINK VALENTINE’S DAY COULD GO SO WRONG.

Considering the fact that you didn’t even have a special someone, there wasn’t much room for disappointment to begin with. However, taking into account the fact that your best friend was a grade A superhero, you often experienced more disappointments than surprises, anyway.

To be honest, you were looking forward to Valentine’s Day this year. Your best friend, Yoo Jimin, had set you up on a blind date with the bookish-cute computer science major in your programming club, Mark Lee. You two were just testing the waters, seeing where small talk would get you.

Mark was a sweetheart, really. He was sort of like a puppy for the entirety of your date, and you couldn’t really imagine yourself being in a relationship with him, but he was fun to hang out with. It was endearing when he tried his best to impress you, but then he ended up getting all flustered when you had a cool reaction. You came to a quick conclusion that nothing would come out of this blind date, but at least Jimin helped you meet someone you could get along with.

Half-way into your discussion about Mark’s Arduino project, though, you both jolted at the sound of an explosion in the distance.

A cloud of dust billowed over the New York City skyscrapers upon the descension of a giant spacecraft, so you asked Mark, “You’re seeing the alien spaceship too, right?”

“Oh, good,” Mark replied, voice a little distant as his gaze fixed on the scene ahead, “I was hoping it wasn’t just me.”

It was something right out of a sci-fi movie. The mothership shadowed the city with smaller spaceships coming down beside it. They cast down beams of light where cybernetically enhanced aliens emerged from.

“Maybe they’re nice ones,” you tried.

A shrill shriek followed by a series of explosions and crashes was heard in the distance.

“Or maybe not,” you added quickly after.

You had recalled an instance just like this before when the Avengers had to save the city from the Chitauri, who operated under Loki. Strangely enough, the species coming from the ship looked quite similar. That couldn’t be possible, though—not when the Infinity Stones were used to disintegrate them out of existence.

“Y/N,” Mark started meekly, “maybe we should run.”

A hyper beam shot in the direction of the cafe that you and Mark sat at, and the both of you jumped from your seats to duck as a building close by got blasted. The impact sent a pressure wave outward, and you had to hold onto the leg of your table to stay grounded.

“Mark!” you yelled. “Get out of here!”

“What about you?!” the boy shrieked before admiration washed over his features. “Wait—don’t tell me… you’re a superhero, aren’t you?”

Well. No.

You stared at the boy in silence, mouth agape, which could’ve passed as shock from him finding out your “secret.” The truth was that you were surprised that he even came to such a conclusion.

“No, I—”

Mark reached over and clutched both your hands in his. “So are you, like, Black Widow or something?” His eyes were full of admiration even as aliens were swarming the sky above. “Never mind, you don’t have to answer that. I’ll leave this to you, then!”

Black Widow? You had zero fighting experience other than your one year of taekwondo in seventh grade (though you only received a yellow belt before quitting). You couldn’t even properly run the mile during P.E. in high school.

The real reason you chose to wait around was because you paid for the coffee and didn’t want to leave without getting your card back.

With that, Mark ran off to reach his car before a beam hit the parking lot. You watched him duck and cover at random, eyeing the sky to see if the ships were aiming their weapons in his direction. You supposed you should have told him that there had been no more attacks coming from the ships since the first few, but it was a little funny seeing your date scurry off.

You weren’t going to hold Mark’s cowardice against him. After all, you did tell him to start running. Plus, you had a back-up plan for your ruined Valentine’s Day date.

As you dialed the intended number in your phone, you beamed at the employee who returned your credit card after you paid for yours and Mark’s coffee. You made a mental note to Venmo request him to split the bill later (if you both were alive by the end of the day, that is).

“You should probably start running,” you suggested to the worker as you glanced at his name tag, “Renjun.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Renjun waved you off bitterly. “Alien invasion? This isn’t my first rodeo.”

You shrugged, supposing his reasoning was valid. That was when a few rings had passed, and you were starting to lose hope in your friend picking up the phone. After a few more, though, you heard the brief pause until he picked up.

“Hey,” Jeong Jaehyun answered, out of breath as the wind whipped against the speaker. “You don’t happen to be outside, right?”

“I’m at the 787,” you said, looking up at the coffee shop’s sign. “There’s kind of a thing going on. Could you pick me up?”

You heard a groan on the other side of the line before Jaehyun replied, “Be right there.”

You pocketed your phone once he hung up. This could have possibly been a Guinness World Record for the worst first date ever.

Renjun looked completely befuddled as he was clearing your table, and you could tell he was trying to not be nosy about your phone call, but his eyes spoke volumes. Being the considerate person you were, you chose to clear things up for the poor barista.

“That was Spider-Man,” you told him. “We’re, like… tight.” You crossed your fingers for emphasis.

That did not seem to clear things up for him.

Jeong Jaehyun was notorious for his fuck-ups, but this sort of mistake was astronomical.  

He had completely embarrassed you in front of Renjun (which wasn’t that big of a deal considering you barely knew him), and you wanted to crawl in a hole when he swung by and scooped up the barista in his arms instead of you. After an awkward exchange of apologies, Jaehyun picked you up and made his way to a rooftop.

Initially, you never suspected Jaehyun was the masked hero all over the news, and yeah, you did notice he had been acting rather strange for a few months, but you only found out Jaehyun was Spider-Man when he took it personally after you crushed a spider with your shoe. You asked him when he suddenly became a humanitarian, and he responded by confessing that he was Spider-Man. You told him you didn’t ask, but then the realization that your best friend was a superhero sank in.

At the time, you were overwhelmed by the news, and it took you a while to fully accept that Jaehyun was half-spider. Now, however, you found this genetic rewiring of his rather useful.

“So,” you started, “what’s up with the aliens coming here again? I thought they were gone for good.”

“Okay, so you know my friend, Groot, right?” he asked.

“Groot?”

“The tree from, like, space,” Jaehyun clarified, as if that was making you any less concerned for his well-being. When you frowned in response, he continued, “You know that weird five-year time blip we had? You turned all dusty, and then I turned all dusty, and then we both were just dust—”

“Yes, Jaehyun, I remember not existing for five years,” you cut in, shuddering at the memory of seeing your family tessellate out of existence before you did the same.

“While I was trying to find Thanos, I met these space bounty hunters who hijacked the spaceship that I also hijacked before them,” he explained, “and one of them was a tree—well, disclaimer: he’s still a tree.”

“A tree,” you echoed. You wondered how this storytime about Jaehyun’s tree friend was going to explain the alien invasion in New York City because you didn’t recall seeing any tree-shaped aliens storming the streets.

“Yeah, he’s a really cool guy. He’s sort of angsty sometimes, but I think we have quality conversations because we’re around the same age.”

“Jaehyun.”

“Well, I guess our conversations are sort of just me talking and him saying ‘Groot,’ but—”

“Jaehyun!” you interjected, all frazzled from trying to get something useful out of this story. “How does Groot explain the fact that we’re all about to die?”

Jaehyun looked down at his feet, suddenly bashful out of nowhere. When he started rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly, you really considered hitting him for this reaction. Mankind was in danger and your best friend was blushing amidst the chaos.

Okay, maybe he was kind of cute when he was shy, but that wasn’t the point.

“Remember when you were complaining about not having a Valentine’s Day date?” he asked shyly.

You recalled your venting session with Jaehyun a little too well. You were both walking home after your last class of the day: AP Language Arts, the absolute worst class to have when Valentine’s Day was nearing. Not only was your class reading a Shakespearan love tragedy, but your school’s “Spread the Love” fundraiser was notorious for going class-to-class and delivering bouquets of roses to students during the week of the fourteenth.

Guess how many you got? One.

It was signed Jamal, but you knew it was just Jaehyun trying not to blow his cover. He bought you a bouquet every year, and every year was a new name; last year you received one from Jeffrey.

Jaehyun’s voice dropped a few octaves, like his words would be less absurd if he spoke quieter. “I may or may not have asked Groot to help me surprise you for Valentine’s Day by getting an alien species to help serenade you.”

“So that”—you turned your gaze to the spacecraft hovering above—“is for me?”

Slowly, your best friend grinned. “Surprise?”

“I hate to say this, but it’s hard to be flattered when your surprise nearly killed me and hundreds of people here,” you deadpanned.

“No, no, no!” Jaehyun cut in, eyes wide. “Okay, yeah, they’re a little confused with the assignment, but they haven’t killed anyone! I specifically told them not to cause any harm, and I didn’t think you would be outside when they arrived. They’re just preparing for the showcase.”

“Showcase?” you asked, frowning. “So these aren’t the Chitauri from the last few invasions when Thanos was a thing?”

“Um.” Jaehyun paused, like he was trying to carefully choose his next words. “Let’s just say these are a more peaceful, kinder sub-species of them.”

“This doesn’t look very peaceful.”

“Trust the process, Y/N. The Avengers insurance will cover the damage,” Jaehyun said, placing his hands on your shoulders. “By the way, how did your blind date go?”

“Terrible.”

“Perfect.” He positioned you so that you were standing on a ledge, supported by his arms wrapped around your waist for leverage. You hated admitting how he got under your skin so easily, but his touch burned. “Stand here for me, okay?”

“Okay,” you breathed out. You weren’t sure if you were supposed to feel like Jack and Rose from Titanic right now because something about the mood was romantically charged, but that meant Jaehyun would die at the end, so you quickly tossed aside that analogy. “Can you… can you not hold me from behind like that? Jack died at the end.”

“Um…” Jaehyun trailed off. He let go and reached out to you, asking, “Hand?”

That was so annoyingly cute. You were going to punch something.

You both eventually settled for sitting side-by-side on the ledge, knees touching and hands gripping each other’s firmly. This tension was always so prominent between you and Jaehyun, but neither of you had the mind to act on it. It was mostly because you knew that if one of you initiated something, that would be the end of what you currently had.

“Jaehyun.” You elbowed his side a little. “The aliens.”

“What about them?” he asked, ears tinted pink. “Oh, right! Let me tell them you’re ready.” He turned his head to the side to speak into an earpiece, mumbling something that was hardly coherent.

“I hope this is cute,” you mumbled. “That’s the least you could do for wrecking havoc around here.”

“Alright,” Jaehyun whispered, eyes practically gleaming with anticipation. “Now.”

You watched as all the ships stilled and then slowly aligned with each other. Right on cue, the three airships in the middle let down flags that hung from the bottom, reading out Happy Valentine’s Day in fancy letters. You were glad that Jaehyun specifically redacted your name from the message because you were sure the media would do a cover story on who Y/N was and why the aliens came to woo her.

A chorus of oohs and awws rang from below. The people of Earth who were previously freaking out about being blasted to death were now cooing at the gesture from the seemingly nicer Chitauri.

“Citizens of this pathetically insignificant world,” a distorted voice from the spaceship called. That wasn’t very nice, but you would take a distasteful acknowledgement over disintegrating again. “We formally apologize for our weapons going off as we forgot to disable the auto-fire. Please note that we do not assume responsibility or liability for any property damages, injuries, or deaths.” There was a pause before the alien awkwardly cleared his throat. “And… I would like to wish a happy Valentine’s Day to—oh, I’m not supposed to say her name? Okay, well… that’s it, then.”

You stared ahead in disbelief. This was probably the most elaborate plan for a Valentine’s gift you had ever received. Sure, it was very dysfunctional and dangerous, but you appreciated the thought put into it. On the bright side, you could cross “extraterrestrials wishing me happy Valentine’s Day” off of your bucket list.

Jaehyun was nodding along, grinning proudly at what he had planned. Meanwhile, you were fighting back the laugh stuck in your throat because you were still somewhat horrified.

“This is the good part,” Jaehyun encouraged.

A set of speakers lowered from the bottom of the ship, and you could already see where this was going. You were convinced some cheesy love song was going to start playing.

Instead, “All I Want For Christmas is You” by Mariah Carey resounded through the city.

“I think they’re a few months late for that one,” you pointed out.

This time, Jaehyun was the one who was distraught. His shoulders slumped in defeat, head hanging.

“I failed,” he said, dejected.

“No, I like it!” you tried, rubbing his back to rouse his energy back. “Aside from the destruction, I think it was a sweet gesture.”

Jaehyun raised his head slowly. You supposed he rekindled his courage, but the pout on his lips was far too endearing. You wondered what he would say if you kissed it away.

“Prove it,” he insisted.

“Prove what?”

“That you actually liked this,” he said, flushed with embarrassment. He must have caught onto how over-the-top this was, but you didn’t hate it.

Oh yeah, your mind ran off on its own. What if you did kiss that pout of his away?

It wouldn’t be weird, right? Your brain was doing mental gymnastics to convince yourself that kissing your best friend wouldn’t be the worst thing that could happen to best friends. There had to be plenty of friends that kissed each other without completely altering the trajectory of their friendship forever.

Whatever.

You thought you would be prepared, especially since you were the one initiating it, but you were far from composed the second your lips met Jaehyun’s. He wasn’t an expert, of course, but something about the way he leaned in and held you made a little zing travel up your spine. Christmas music and alien invasion aside, you had never felt so warm and loved on Valentine’s Day.

When you pulled away, Jaehyun’s eyes were still closed as his lips tried to chase after yours. He finally regained his composure and pulled away to drink in your appearance.

“You kissed me,” he whispered. For a moment, Jaehyun was silent, and then louder, “You kissed me.”

“Good to know those spidey senses are working,” you retorted, though you were doing everything in your power to fight back your smile, and you were terribly failing. “Are they telling you anything else right now?”

Before you knew it, Jaehyun was pulling you in again, one hand on the back of your neck to draw your lips back to his. He kissed you with a more urgent fervor, synonymous with hurricanes and tornadoes. Your mind was thrown in for a loop, flooded with thoughts about how you had just lost a friend, and when the storm within you settled, you realized you won something even better.

You wouldn’t mind doing this more often.

This time, when Jaehyun pulled away, you returned a dazzling smile when he blushed darkly.

And when he only reddened further when you said, “I think you might be my favorite back-up Valentine, Jaehyun.”

[personasintro]

omg can u do a drabble when y/n and jungkook first met? 😽

A part of Mutual Help series!

pairing: mh!jungkook x reader

warnings: explicit language

word count: 2.3k+

a/n: it’s here!!! finallyyy🎉 I posted this as quickly as I could, please do not mind any possible mistakes!

.

.

The flavored soju tastes nice on your tongue and you’ve no problem swallowing it all down, serving as a great distraction at the same time.

It’s been a few minutes since Jimin announced to you that his friend Jungkook is going to join you. You’re not going to lie, you’re not sure if you’re good with new people and especially when it is a stranger. Well, he’s supposedly a good friend of Jimin and Taehyung.

You only met Taehyung today as well and you’ve a feeling as if you already were besties, but that’s thanks to Taehyung’s extroverted personality who has made you feel very welcomed and comfortable once Jimin introduced you to him.

Maybe you’re this nervous because you don’t actually have any friends in Seoul yet, it’s exactly why you’re feeling like this actually. You’ve known Jimin the longest, him working at the company you’re doing your internship at made it easier for you to meet new people. New people as of Taehyung who’s sitting next to Jimin, across the table and you. And now you’re waiting for Jungkook, one of their friends.

Taehyung’s mouth hasn’t shut up ever since he joined you and Jimin, and even though he scolds him for scaring you, you assure them you’re totally okay and you vibe with Taehyung right away. Not going to lie, the soju that he keeps ordering helps a lot too but even without it, you get the feeling Taehyung is a nice person and will be a good friend.

It’s not you who automatically assumes he’s going to be your friend, but he already made sure to tell you that you should hang out with them more often and join them whenever they’ve got some plans. Maybe it’s an act of politeness and friendliness, so you don’t want to take him too seriously. However, he has already invited you to hang out with them over the weekend and Jimin agreed right away.

“Honestly, you have nothing to worry about,” Taehyung says as he takes a bite of his probably cold sausage by now but he doesn’t look as if he minds it that much. “Jungkook is such a cool guy, you should’ve met him when I met him. He was kinda shy and timid, and now… well you’ll see!”

Great, is he one of those guys that were shy when they were younger and now he’s going to be this overconfident guy? You’ve heard about this Jungkook a lot, it doesn’t help you’re about to meet him any second.

“That’s true,” Jimin nods knowingly, “Jungkookie was the quietest one out of all of us, now he’s probably the loudest. Well, right behind this one because nothing and no one can beat this idiot.”

Snorting, you’re seconds from laughing as Taehyung starts to complain with a full mouth which Jimin scolds him for with a disgusted look, using you as an excuse. But you don’t mind, waving them off as you continue to laugh at Taehyung’s frowned face.

On the other hand, Jungkook had no clue there’s someone else joining them, a girl at that. He spots you after he spots his friends, brows slowly pinched together in confusion at the stranger. Who are you?

When Taehyung texted him to come to have a glass of soju, he never mentioned anything about someone else joining and he only hopes this is not some kind of twisted way of trying to set him up with someone. Jungkook isn’t all about hooking up with strangers and that kind of lifestyle his friends love to have and live. They only talked about it a few days ago at Jimin’s place where Jungkook not so quietly scolded them for always trying to find him some hot girl. They act as if Jungkook needs any help with that. The difference is that he had chosen not to live the same lifestyle.

So yes, when he sees you laughing at something that his friends undoubtedly said, he is a little bit skeptical at the newest addition to their hangout. Whether it’s just a one-time thing or not, he’ll soon find out. Maybe you’re one of their ‘friends’ but he finds that weird, because they usually don’t hang out with their hook-ups.

Making his way over there, his friends’ backs turned to him and you don’t know him, so you’ve no clue who he is. The moment of surprise that Jungkook wanted to take to his advantage and prepare himself for having to find out who are you and what you’re doing there, is ruined when Taehyung suddenly turns around as if he was checking if Jungkook finally made it and sees that yes, his friend is finally indeed here.

“Jungkook-ah!”

Jungkook sighs, waving at them as he rushes past a few tables and notices there’s only one seat available next to you. As he’s sitting down, greeting his friends he takes that opportunity to look at you closer. You look young, you’re probably younger than any of them.

You’re sitting there in a white knitted sweatshirt in this chilly evening, eyes slightly sparkling at the alcohol you’ve consumed but you’re nowhere near tipsy or drunk. You watch him with big eyes, growing almost nervous when he sits right next to you and the nice mixed scent of him brushes through your nose.

You’re pretty, he gives you that.

On the opposite side, you’re freaking out because you’re not sure if you’re too good with new people and especially if they’re a guy, looking good. He’s wearing black jeans with a cotton shirt underneath his denim jacket, a black mask tucked under his chin which he pulls off and puts it into his black leather bag.

“Jungkook-ah, this is Y/N, I mentioned her to you.” Jimin says, reaching for some crackers he bought in the convenience store and plops them unbothered into his mouth. That sounds like news to you, he mentioned you to him? Of course, he did. He’s his friend, stop overthinking it.

Jungkook remembers. It’s not like Jimin talked about you many times, he mentioned you once or twice. Something about this girl doing an internship at the company he works at. According to Jimin, you’re friendly and nice and he feels awfully bad that you apparently have no real friends here. Well, a part of some girls from the college but you told him you’re not sure if it’s a friendship to keep after college.

Jimin, actually all of them, know that feeling but they’re lucky because they always had each other. Jimin is Jungkook’s childhood friend, both of them coming from Busan to Seoul to study and pursue their adult life here. Jimin met Taehyung during his college days, the two of them becoming friends instantly after one of the classes they had together and then later on, decided to go to a party together which resulted in them having the same kind of lifestyle which means… living their version of best college life by getting drunk and fucking around.

After Jimin’s introduction of you, Jungkook moves his eyes your way and is met with a soft yet nervous smile you give him. Your obvious uncertainty makes you look innocent, almost child-like and for a moment Jungkook feels bad for you because he can relate to that feeling of feeling left out and nervous, discomfort even.

And his features soften, even if they weren’t hardened at any point and he returns the gentle smile back.

“Hey, Jungkook,” he introduces himself, despite his friends calling him by his name more than once and you probably know his name by now. Still, it’s the politeness and the official introduction coming from him. “Y/N, right?” He asks unsurely, even though he knows your name because he’s not a total idiot. It’s not like Jimin said your name just a minute ago, is it?

“Yeah, it’s lovely to meet you. Jimin and Taehyung talked about you a lot,” you tell him, your voice smooth which kind of surprises Jungkook. Not because he actually tried to guess what kind of voice you have, but because he hears you speak for the first time and he thinks you’ve a nice voice.

“I’m sure they were,” Jungkook mutters, glaring at his two friends that quickly put their hands up as if they were innocent which makes you giggle, causing Jungkook to look at you with a grin playing on his lips. “What did they say?”

“They actually talked about you very nicely,” you chuckle, noticing Taehyung’s mouth opens as he dramatically gapes at Jungkook, as if they ever talked badly about him. He’s so dramatic but you love it, he’s funny and definitely makes the whole atmosphere more fun and comfortable.

You’re not sure about Jungkook yet, but from the looks of it he doesn’t seem like a bad guy.

“That’s hard to believe,” Jungkook grins at his friends, the older ones scowling at him before similar grins crack on their lips.

“They didn’t talk that much, only that you used to be quiet.” you shrug, chugging your shot to ease the slight nervousness you’re still feeling but now that Jungkook is talking, you feel a little bit better.

“Which you were,” Jimin ponders, lifting his glass at Jungkook before he repeats your precious action and chugs down the shot.

“I’m not saying I wasn’t,” Jungkook shrugs. The truth is, Jungkook is still that kind of guy he once was when he came to Seoul. He’s obviously a little bit better with people and his social life, but he still keeps to himself most of the time.

While Jimin and Taehyung would party not only weekends but during the week too, Jungkook would rather stay home while playing games, drawing or editing photos he took. Someone would call him lame, others would call him mature. Not that he cares what others think about him. Just because he’s not feeling to get drunk every weekend and fuck women who would willingly throws themselves at him, doesn’t mean he’s an introvert or weird.

Of course he experienced parties, of course Jimin and Taehyung dragged his ass to one of the parties so they could get drunk.

And it’s not like he’s repulsed at the idea of having that kind of fun from time to time. However, it’s not something he does often.

“Are you?” You interrupt his thoughts, the distant conversation between Jimin and Taehyung is noticed by the two of you but you’ve your own conversation for a moment as you ask Jungkook.

His brows scrunch in confusion for a second and before he can ask you, you’re already opening your mouth.

“Quiet, I mean… are you still quiet?”

He blinks for a moment, eyes dancing on your face as he sees the teasing glint in them which does surprise him because he thought of you as being shy.

And then he leans towards you, the glint in your eyes dropping as you stare at him with eyes full of surprise. He cracks a grin, making sure you look him right in the eyes as he says; “I guess you’ll have to stick around to find out.”

He pulls away, enjoying your lack of verbal response before you shake yourself out of it and snort at him. “Yeah, I guess I’ll have to.” you hum, turning towards Jimin and Taehyung while an amused smile plays on your lips.

During the rest of the evening, Jungkook isn’t as talkative as you’d guess him to be since your last conversation. He mostly stays quiet, throws a few words here and there and laughs at whatever Taehyung manages to get out of his mouth. But once again when Taehyung is on the verge of getting drunk, laughing like a maniac along with Jimin, he actually makes an effort to talk to you once again.

So he has asked about you – why you’ve decided to come to Seoul and with your answer being very much similar to Jungkook’s reason for being in Seoul, you’ve bonded even more. You’ve learned that he’s a photographer and even has shown you some of his pictures which you complimented straight away. Not because you wanted to be nice and friendly, but because this guy is a pure talent which you bluntly told him after your last glass of soju.

Jungkook has joined you and drank a few drinks, but other than that he has been the most composed one.

And when they all walk you to your home, dragging Taehyung behind you as he’s drunk with Jimin scolding him countless times tonight, you laugh your ass off along with Jungkook. They all say goodbye to you, already inviting you to Jimin’s place over the weekends.

“Are you sure you want to hang out with that?” Jungkook asks, pointing at Taehyung who’s currently sitting on a curb while Jimin scolds him for drinking too much, but attentively rubs his back which wants to make you snort but you push the need to do that.

“If I knew you better, I’d say you don’t want me there.” you laugh at Jungkook’s petrified expression as he shakes his black short hair which makes you laugh even more.

“No, that’s not it!” he exclaims, pausing for a second when he notices your smirk, his shoulders relaxing as he sighs. You got him.

You giggle, shaking your head at him. “Besides, I still need to stick around to see what kind of guy you are.”

You’re teasing him, he realizes. During the evening you’ve both talked to each other and actually clicked right away. Jungkook seems like a really cool guy and it’s hard to find those these days. But you shouldn’t be surprised, just as Jimin and Taehyung are down to earth, so is Jungkook. It wouldn’t make sense if their friend would be an asshole.

So he goes along with your teasing, the corner of his mouth twitching in an amused smirk as he nods while he purses his pouty lips.

“Yeah, you should,” he hums, “Besides, I can’t be alone on those two idiots.”

“Hey, I heard that!”

“Jeon Jungkook!”

And you both burst into laughter once again.

Yeah, Jungkook already seems like a good friend.

[nayaaatv]

”my answer is you” - wen junhui ✦

# : band au, angsty angst, kind of fluff if u like squint (i think im lying)

warnings ! : mentions of alcohol, mentions of food if that counts,, a very sobby jun, swearing. no happy ending ? depends on how u see it

wc ! : 1.1k (tee hee)

a/n : this was supposed to be a very very very long fic but turned into a oneshot bc i got lazy,, this is really bad so aha i might fix it in the future (?)

ft. mingyu, hoshi, and minghao.

some people may say your breakup was very healthy, and maybe you thought that too, but...

its always going to be messy.

and it was. you were leaving him for college and he was leaving you for his career. it sounded mutual, ish.

at first, maybe it was healthy. you both agreed that maybe it was for the best considering your situations, that was until you found him on your porch.

stupidly drunk. crying all over the place, begging you to come back to him. you had to get one of his band mates to pick him up.

after that, the breakup hurt much more. you climbed in bed sobbing your ass off for days. you didn't even want to leave him.

maybe you were just scared of the cons of long distance, maybe you were scared of what college would do to your relationship, maybe you just fell out of love.

out of all those thoughts, it definitely wasn't the last one.

you moved on eventually, found new people and a boyfriend. you assumed he did too.

assumed.

you and your boyfriend, decided to go to a yearly couples festival.

it looked familiar, you thought. you went anyway since it was your boyfriend who was suggesting to go.

you got ready and got in the car.

you wore a white floral dress you probably haven't worn in ages, since it was sitting untouched in your closet.

"we're here!" your boyfriend, mingyu cheered.

the gentleman opened the car door for you and smiled, visibly excited for this particular event. you smiled back as you walk with him to the entrance.

it was beautiful. all the pretty lights, the food stands, the tables, everything was amazing. though, you got a massive wave of deja vu. you shrugged it off for the sake of your date.

“lets get cotton candy !!” mingyu suggested.

you nodded and walked with him to the food stand. whilst waiting for the cotton candy to form, you heard a familiar voice start to speak.

you looked around to be met with the wooden stage in the middle end of the venue, surrounded by a bunch of lights and speakers.

the slightly familiar band walked up the stage, making everyone turn their heads.

“hey everyone, hope you’re having a great night tonight! requests are by the booth over there. hope you guys have fun.” the singer cheered as the crowd cheered along.

and then it hit you. it wasn’t just a band, it was the band he was in.

the band your ex, jun, was in, the lead singer actually. your mind went blank as you saw all the familiar members all together like before. you smiled in slight shock, happy to see him living his dream.

“babe? you okay?” your boyfriend asked. “hm? im fine, gyu” you assured the boy.

although you moved on for good. you couldn’t keep your evil thoughts locked away. ‘has he moved on?’, ‘what if we didn’t break up?’, ‘does he still remember me even?’

you managed to push those thoughts away for a while and continue your date with your precious boyfriend.

the man in question on the other hand, wasn’t the strong soldier you were.

he noticed you while fixing his equipment with his members. his eyes glossy from the sight of your smile.

wishing he was still the reason of it.

“jun? you ready?” his drummer, soonyoung, snapping jun out of his thoughts.

jun nodded, awkwardly walking up the stage to make a quick introduction.

a solid thirty minutes go by. your head finally at ease, taking selfies with your boyfriend. in just a snap, you forgot about jun. though he, was unfortunately still at stage one.

endless staring throughout the night. he, in fact, did not move on, like at all. he sang and sang trying to hold himself back from evil thoughts of his own.

right before he knew it, it was the last song. he stared at the request paper dully.

‘Try Again - Jaehyun and d.ear. my girlfriend loves this song, like a lot, i hope you could play it, thanks !!’ he read.

he froze for a moment, rereading it a few times. for once, he asked his members if they should do this song.

by song I mean the song you used to sing in the car with him. jun used to find himself dreading to the melody. now, he doesn’t know what to feel.

he put the note down and announced the next song.

you look up from your table to the familiar melody, whilst your boyfriend jokingly groaned, as if he wasn’t the one who requested the song. but neither of you needed to know that anyway.

“gyu gyu gyu gyu” you shaked the boys shoulder repeatedly.

“i know, babe i know.” he laughed, adoring your excited smile.

the singer was barely focusing, nearly voice cracking at one point. he tried looking everywhere but your eyes. he was unsuccessful after 32 seconds into the song.

you noticed his gaze and waved happily. your boyfriend doing the same.

although there was a bright smile on his face, his world was slowly breaking apart. time stopped in his eyes.

“So whenever you ask me again”

his eyes started getting glossier. he started to remember things he wished he could forget.

“How I feel, please remember...”

he wished he was still singing with you in the car, having no care in the world. he wished he was still the one who walked you to school. he wished he was still the one you were on a date with. he wished you were still there to support him after a gig. he wished he was still the one pressing his lips against yours.

“My answer is you.”

eventually, the song came to an end. as you were gathering all the food and stuff you bought with your boyfriend. jun was crying his ass off backstage like the day you split. his bandmates comforted him whole-heartedly.

“its alright bud, atleast she’s happy, right?” minghao assured the older one. 

jun didn’t even want to cry at all. it felt wrong to him, but he just couldn’t stop sobbing. some nights, he wishes he didn’t break up with you, and tonight, was probably one of those nights, and maybe the worst of them all.

sooner or later, the singer got himself together and left the venue with his band.

although you’re not with him to hug and kiss after a gig, he’s more than glad that you have someone who loves you a lot. and maybe, just maybe, this was the closure he needed. we’ll never know, he doesn't know either. a he knows is that.

he was and always will be joyful to see your pretty smile.

taglist ☆ : @guavagyu 💫

[teebarnes]

Hey:) can u do a fan fic of Chris X !wife reader and Chris and Y/N go live with their baby girl and they answer A few questions and get a personal ones🤷‍♀️

Heyo @lalablozzom :))

Thank you so much for your request, you asked and you shall receive. my apologies it took so long to get to you. I hope you enjoy it :))

Title: Live-streaming with the Evans'

Pairing: Chris Evans x wife!reader

Summary: Just another day in quarantine, you decided to do a live-stream with your daughter and husband to cure your need for social interaction.

Word Count: 1.3k

Warning(s): fluff, mentions of being drunk, you have a chiiild. (not many warnings)

A/N: Requests are currently closed until further notice, apologies to those who have requested. I was on an absolutely needed break, but I am slowly working my way back into posting.

Reminder: Please do not copy, translate or repost my work. I solely write for this account and for the people who send these requests in. 🥰

Holding your daughter on your hip, she fiddled with your necklace. Today was another day of lockdown, and you thought it would be a fun day to go live on Instagram with Chris, and your daughter. A little fun in lockdown with your family never hurt anyone.

You set up your phone in a mount on your bathroom dresser; you sat on one of the chairs you had brought in for both you and Chris to sit on. Chris was in a work meeting for one of his upcoming series being released in a few days, so he had to finish that off before he could join. However, he insisted that you could start without him, and he'd come in when he had finished.

You smiled, sitting your daughter up-right on your lap, holding her careful with both your arms hugging her small frame to make sure she would fall off. It wasn't hard to entertain your daughter. She was just like her dad; she loved exploring new things and she already had her eyes on your bracelets. You turned your live stream on having the three-second timer before you were live for over three million people.

You smiled, waving to all the incoming viewers and comments, "Well, hello there, everyone" you chuckled. "I'm glad you all could make it to our quarantine live-stream." you were patiently watching as all the comments came pouring through your feed, smiling at each of them. A minute had not even gone by, and you had over 100,000 viewers on the live stream. Your small daughter squealed as she played with your hands and rings. Watching her, you cuddled her a bit closer to you.

"Alright guys, well, thank you all for coming. I posted on my story not too long ago for you all to send in some questions for both Chris and me to answer, so I'll go through a few before Chris comes on" you smiled, grabbing Chris' phone which he left with you so you could use yours to live stream and his to go through the questions.

Holding the phone in your hand, your daughter begins to play with the screen, causing you to chuckle "hey... that's daddy's phone, don't break it, or we are going to get in trouble", the reply of incoherent mumbles was enough for you. You turned your gaze back up to the camera, smiling lightly "and we also have baby Evans with us today" your daughter giggled and did a slight wave to the camera.

you scroll to the very top of questions and start from there, "Okay, the first question, how old is Baby Evans?" you chuckle, looking down at your daughter. "How old are you love?" you asked her. Your daughter's big blue eyes looked up at you, bouncing her on your leg, you knew she wasn't going to answer, but her reactions are always the cutest. "She will be turning two in September" you smiled.

Scrolling down the list, you look for another simple one you could answer without Chris "ah, okay! how did Chris and I meet" you smile.

"well, we met through mutuals..." you laughed before continuing your story. "one of my good friends Sebastian Stan, was throwing a little birthday party, and he happened to introduce me to Chris."

You were about to continue when you heard your husband's voice behind you, "That happened almost six years ago", he smiled before coming to take his seat next to you. "Sorry I'm late, everyone", he chuckled, kissing you. "Dadda!" your daughter squealed, making grabby hands at him. Chris smiled, taking your daughter off your lap for him to hold on to his. You let a small laugh out through your nose "good memory, hon", you joked.

One of his hands held your daughter's belly so she could sit up-right and the other hand made its way around your back and to your waist, pulling you a bit closer to him. "Did you want to continue the story of how we met home?" you looked up at him and cheekily smiled. He laughed softly, shaking his head. "Alright, alright".

Your daughter was sitting on her dad's lap playing with his wedding ring, easily entertained that one. "Sebastian had rented out a villa for the weekend, so we all had our rooms. I got a little drunk on the night of his birthday and woke up sleeping on y/n's couch," you chuckled at the memory. "I don't know how I got there, but all I remember is a beautiful lady walking in handing me some pain killers along with an excellent breakfast."

You smiled as you sat there, watching the comments roll through at how sweet the story was and that Chris did score. You spoke up "then he asked me out on Sunday... the rest is history, huh?" you looked at Chris, who nods in agreement.

"Next quessstiiiooonn" Chris excitedly asked, "hmm... okay... oh", you laughed, showing Chris the question. Chris turns his head, squinting at the camera. "Yes, our daughter was very much planned." you nodded to his answer "that is true."

Crossing your leg over the other, you scrolled through, looking for more questions, "are we planning on having more kids, love?" you turned your head slightly to met your husband's eyes. "Oh definitely", he smirked before giving your ass a firm slap which caused your body to Buck up a little. "Babe", you warned him, laughing, "Yes, we do."

"Someone asked if we will ever reveal what our daughter's name is." you shrugged, "Not for a while. We want our daughter to grow up with that freedom. You all know how the media can be." Chris added, "Our daughter's name is baby Evans until further notice" he smiled, rubbing your back softly. "Did you want to look through the questions, love? Choose a few?" you asked Chris, who nodded; he took the phone from your hand gently, scrolling through.

You were watching your daughter while he took his time choosing another question; noticing she was hungry, you opened up a bag of snacks. Handing her one to eat, you adjusted the camera to show the audience what she was eating. "Yummy?" you asked to which she nodded. "Ah-ha, What is your dream job?" Chris looked at you smiling; you rested your cheek on the palm of your hand, looking at him. "I think the one I have now", you smiled, looking back to the camera.

"It's not a dream, but it used to be. If you don't know, I'm a registered psychologist. I specialise in helping children and young adolescents."

The bright smile you had upon your face, "my dream was to help the young ones who are struggling, learn from them and teach them how to overcome what they're going through." you took a deep breath. "Hence, I hope I'm doing just that", you turned to your daughter "not that it's a job but being a Mom has also been a dream for me." you chuckled.

"how about you, my love?"

You looked over to Chris, who had looked as if he had fallen in love all over again. You rested your arm on his shoulder, softly massaging his neck. "Being a dad", he looked at you ", and I have you to thank for that." he leaned in to kiss your lips softly.

The pair of you went through a few more questions on the live stream, also inviting Scott and his boyfriend into the mix. It was getting late, and your daughter had fallen asleep on her dad. You chuckled, watching your daughter sleep. Both you and Chris said your goodbyes and thanked everyone for watching.

"We will see you next time", you whispered before ending the live stream. Chris got up, cradling the pair of your daughter in his arms. You kissed her goodnight before he took her to her room.

A few moments later, Chris came back in, t-shirt off. He got into bed with you, pulling you closer so he could hug you.

"That was fun", he laughed, kissing your lips softly, to which you returned. "Very, very fun", you chuckled, turning the lights off.

"goodnight, handsome", you smiled, kissing Chris' chin.

——————————————————————————

If you would like to be removed from this taglist, feel free to message me :))

Chris Evans' Taglist: @lharrietg @buckyfan12 @afraid-to-be-me @livstilinski @morganwilliams @hiddlespiddles-blog @iwannabekilledtwice@patzammit @bbl32 @in-my-body-bag @leyannrae @valeriafelix121 @romanovaslut @hoperu14@capsiclecevanss

Future Taglist: @fairityretro @natyvwe @avengerbitch @elizabeth228 @aprilpari

[asthmark]

❝ 10 things i know about you ❞ l.jn

synopsis → there are ten important things you learn about lee jeno during your time in quarantine.

request → “if you're still accepting requests, can u make a domestic roommate!jeno? 🥺🥺 thank you and have a nice dayyy”

word count → 7.1k (bruhhh)

sharing an apartment with lee jeno isn’t ideal.

it’s not that he’s a lousy roommate or that you disliked him in any way; you just didn’t know him. you had first met through a mutual friend. they knew jeno was looking for someone to split rent with and that you happened to need a place to stay. they promised you he would give you privacy and assured jeno you were excellent roommate material. with that, arrangements were made and soon enough you moved in together. of course, it was a bit awkward at first but you two eventually got used to each other’s presence. although you were never in the same room for too long and oftentimes went days without speaking, you coexisted.

for a long time, you only knew a couple things about your roommate. for example, you were aware of his strong love for cats, especially his pet calico, seol. you also knew he kept the freezer stocked with pizza rolls that he would use as energy when he stayed up all night playing video games.

what you didn’t know, however, was that you would be spending the next couple months locked in your apartment with him. on top of that, you would begin to learn more things about him—his life, his personality, his feelings.

there are ten important things you learn about lee jeno during your time in quarantine.

       1. he’s a heavy sleeper.

at 10:28 in the morning you find yourself seated at the dining table in the kitchen, spooning froot loops into your mouth. as you stuff your face, you scroll through your phone for entertainment. you decide to open instagram first but you quickly find that to be a mistake. as soon as you open the app a picture of lucas and who you thought was his ex-girlfriend greets you. if that was bad, the caption hits you like a ton of bricks.

@lucas_xx444: should have never left you

in only five words, lucas has completely erased the months you spent dating. it meant nothing to him. sure, things hadn’t ended things the best way but going right back to his toxic ex and even admitting to missing her—now that was a new low. was this his way of getting back at you? his way of making you hurt just like he had throughout your entire relationship? the thought alone leaves you feeling sick.

you decide you’ve already had enough social media for one morning so you decide to check your messages instead. your friends usually left a couple of them overnight. to your surprise, you find that your main group chat has accumulated 241 messages.

[10:48 am] you: good morning i see u guys have been vry chatty

[10:49 am] yeji: ur finally awake!

[10:50 am] yuna: we thought u died lol

[10:50 am] lia: YUNA

[10:50 am] lia: NO

[10:51 am] ryujin: the timing for that joke could not be worse

[10:52 am] yuna: humor is my coping mechanism leave me alone

[10:52 am] you: ??? what happened

[10:53 am] chaeryeong: we left msgs for a reason dummy read them!!

[10:53 am] you: umm there’s over 200 and im not abouta read all that

[10:54 am] yuna: well then lemme break it down

[10:54 am] yuna: the world is ending :)

[10:55 am] you: welp it was about time

[10:55 am] lia: why r u guys like this

[10:56 am] yeji: there’s been a covid-19 outbreak and it’s spreading like wildfire so the government issued a stay at home order :/

[10:57 am] you: omg WHAT

[10:57 am] ryujin: ikr it’s crazy we literally can’t go anywhere

[10:57 am] chaeryeong: and we can’t get boba today either ;( i was so looking forward to that

[10:58 am] ryujin: let’s pls take a moment of silence for all the current and future boba dates that will have to be cancelled

[10:59 am] yuna: no way am i gonna let some wannabe flu make me go boba-less i’m still going out >:(

[10:59 am] lia: ...ur joking right

[10:59 am] yeji: what color casket do u want yuna?

before the groupchat can distract you any further, you place your phone down on the table. you sit back in your chair and let the newly revealed information sink in.

you were stuck inside.

you sigh before standing to clean your dishes. as you’re scrubbing away at your bowl, you feel something brush against your leg. you smile, not even having to look down to know it was seol. the cat would often wander into your room or sleep next to you when you watched tv on the couch. in fact, you were pretty sure you spent more time with seol than his owner.

you gaze at jeno’s room. as always, the door is shut. you wonder if you should let him know what was happening. you two usually kept your distance but you figured that the circumstance you found yourself in was an exception. you quickly dry your hand and shuffle towards his room.

you knock once, quite softly. you assume he’s asleep so you try again, this time a little harder. still, no avail. the third time you put even more force into it. by this time, seol has found his way beside you and claws at the door.

“jeno?” you knock a fourth time. “jeno! lee jeno!”

after more shouting accompanied by incessant meowing, you hear some muffled movement. moments later the door knob twists open and there stands your roommate with disheveled hair and a robe that had obviously just been thrown on his body. seol has taken the open crack in the door as an invitation inside the bedroom.

jeno blinks a couple times as he watches the feline get himself comfortable on his bed. he turns back to you, looking slightly disoriented. you’re not sure if he’s half asleep or your sudden presence has thrown him for a loop. his voice comes out raspy when he asks, “was he, um, bothering you or something?”

you shake your head, vigorously. “that’s not why i came. it’s just that my friends told me that there’s been some kind of virus outbreak and we’re supposed to stay home. so, i thought i’d let you know.”

his face softens. “oh, cool.” suddenly, the look changes. “not the virus thing! that’s totally not cool. i meant, it’s cool that you let me know and stuff. you just saved me a huge freak out so, uh, thank you.”

you smile and nod. “no problem.”

jeno’s eyes linger as you retreat back into your room down the hall. the sound of his door shutting is heard only once you’re out of his eyesight.

   2.    he can cook better than you.

most of the time, you would go out to eat dinner with your friends in the evenings or at least stop by a drive thru. obviously, this was no longer possible in the midst of a pandemic. you found that to be incredibly frustrating as you sat on your bed, stomach empty. no matter how badly you wished to fix it, your laziness had gotten the best of you. apart from that, you already knew how unlucky you were when it came to cooking—the memory of burning noodles at lia’s house one night had been permanently seared into your brain.

you almost believe your mind is playing tricks on you when you catch a whiff of pasta in the air. for a moment you think it’s your next door neighbor, taeyong, cooking again. you knew he was quite the chef. but, the smell is getting stronger by the second and you decide it must be in your apartment.

you wander into the kitchen, only to find jeno standing over the stove. he’s stirring red sauce in a pot when he notices you watching him.

“oh, hey,” he greets with a polite wave.

you can only stare at the rest of the kitchen—pots, pans, and ingredients all over the place—in utter awe.

he chuckles, awkwardly. “yeah, sorry about the mess. i’ve been told i’m a decent cook but i can never seem to get the tidiness down.”  

“no, it’s not that. this just all seems so... professional.” you sniff the air once more. “smells amazing, too.”

he smiles, sheepishly. “thanks. are you a fan of spaghetti?”

you nod.

“good. i wanted to make something you’d like.”

“you really didn’t have to,” you say, leaning against the fridge. “i mean, i’ve never done anything for you.”

he uncovers a pot to check on the pasta. you watch as hot steam rises out of it. “what about this morning?”

you can’t help but laugh. “that most certainly does not count. you’re making an entire meal. that takes a lot of effort.”

he waves a hand, dismissively. “i used to cook a lot with my old roommate, doyoung. the guy was an asian gordon ramsey, i swear. so, yeah, this is nothing too crazy. and i really do enjoy it.”

“well, i’m still gonna repay you.” you fold your arms.

he looks away from his dish to raise a brow. “is that so?”

you nod in confirmation. “definitely.”

“tell you what, if you wash the mountain of dishes that are gonna be left over, we’ll be even.”

you stare at the sink that’s already overflowing with dirty kitchen tools. that wasn’t even half of it. “uh, sure, sounds good.”

he laughs at hearing the uncertainty in your voice. “that’s the spirit.”

   3.    he’s allergic to cats.

the familiar sound of soft purring is what pulls you attention away from the movie playing on your laptop. already knowing exactly who it is, you launch yourself off your bed to allow your furry guest inside.  

“hey seol. what’ve you been up to?”

the calico meows, almost as if he were responding to your question. you close your door and go back to your original position. you notice seol sitting directly in front of your bed, looking up at you with wide eyes.

“come on up.” you pat your sheets, invitingly.

he obeys and stretches before laying down beside you.

“have you ever watched ‘avengers’?” you ask, eyes going back to the explosive fight scene on the screen.

this time, seol doesn’t even bother humoring you with a meow. he stays silent with his head tucked into his paws.

you scratch his head and his tail wiggles. “i’ve gotta stop asking you questions.”

both you and seol’s heads snap towards the door when you hear a knock.

“come in!” you call out.  

jeno swings open the door. his eyes briefly scan the room before landing on the furball on your bed. the unmistakable look of adoration shines in his eyes when he sees how lovingly you caress him.

“seol! what are you doing in here? bothering y/n?” the cat jumps off your bed and towards his owner standing in your doorway. jeno scoops him into his arms and faces you. “i’m so sorry. he saw me running a bath for him and bolted.”

“it’s all good. he’s a great movie buddy. besides, i could always use the company.”

jeno curiously glances at your computer screen. “is that ‘avengers’?”

“yep. i’ve seen it like a dozen times.”

“same here.“ he pauses. “hey, if you ever need a movie buddy—like you know, one that talks—just let me know.”

your face lights up. “i’m gonna hold you to that.”

”i hope so. well, if you’ll excuse me, i’ve gotta give this guy a bath.”

seol yowls as if he understands the meaning behind the words and attempts to escape jeno’s grip.    

“here we go again,” he mumbles under his breath.

you snicker at the sight. “looks like you could use some help.”

“oh, no. it’s fine. he can just be a little bratty someti—seol!”

in the blink of an eye, the feline has successfully hopped out of his arms and made a run for it.

jeno gives you an exasperated look before rushing off to catch his runway pet. you find yourself caught up in the excitement so you follow him, the two of you now in pursuit of the calico. you’re sure the image of you both chasing the fluffy animal around the apartment looks like something straight out of a comedy. even you and jeno can’t contain your laughter when he finally catches seol only for him to slip out of his hold a second later. this exact situation repeats itself a couple times before you finally get lucky.

“i got him!” you screech. “jeno! oh my god! what do i do?”

“bathroom, bathroom, bathroom!” he chants in response.

you head in that direction with jeno trailing behind you, ready to catch seol if he somehow manages to get out of your death grip. you bend over the bathtub, slowly lowering the cat into the water. it’s clear he doesn’t have a problem with making a fuss as he wails and flails his limbs around.

after a while, he finally calms down enough that you can lather him in shampoo. jeno insists on scrubbing him, arguing that you had already done way too much. you sit back on your heels, observing the way the seol leans into his delicate touches.

“looks like he likes it now.”

“he likes to make a big deal but he ends up enjoying it every—“ jeno cuts himself off with a sneeze.

“tissue?” you offer.

he shakes his head. “that’s okay, thanks. i’m used to it. i’m just surprised my allergies haven’t acted up ‘til now.”

“allergies?” you echo.

“yeah, i’m allergic to—“ another sneeze. “cats.”

your eyes widen. “really? and you still have seol?”

“i could never get rid of him. he’s too good of a boy. isn’t—“ sneeze. “that right?” he tickles seol under his chin.

“wow. you must really love him.”

“so much.”

“he’s lucky to have you.”

“what about you? you get both of us. doesn’t that make you the luckiest?”

you snort. “i guess it does.”

   4.    he makes a good shopping buddy.

“i have officially cooked everything we have.”

“i can order some takeout, if you want?”

he juts his lower lip out and gives you puppy eyes. “but i like to cook for you.”

you laugh at his expression. “oh god, you look like that one pouty emoji people use when they try to be cute.”

he sits up. “did it work?”

you nod and pinch his cheek.

he yelps. “ah, stop! you’re acting like my grandma!” he manages to get out of your grasp. he rubs his face, soothing the spots you had squeezed. “seriously, though, we really do need to stock up on food.”

“i’ve already been looking into it.” you show him the screen of your phone. “says here you can still go shopping as long as you wear a mask and try to stay six feet away from other shoppers.”

he cringes. “i don’t know if i like the idea of being so close to so many people.”

“i can go by myself, then,” you suggest with a shrug.

he doesn’t hesitate to deny you. “no way are you going alone.” his possessive tone has you staring at him curiously so he adds, “you know, in case you can’t reach something on the top shelf.”

the teasing comment paired with his innocent smile makes you gasp in disbelief. “lee jeno! that’s low! and to think i almost thought you were worried about me.”

“who said i wasn’t?” he smiles at you again before standing up. “i’m going to find us some masks and then we can head out.”  

once you arrive at your local grocery store, you find it to be packed. everyone seems to be in a hurry, grabbing things left and right.

“wow, it’s already gotten crazy,” jeno mumbles, stopping to stare at the flood of people that rush by.

you don’t hesitate to scold him. “well, don’t just stand there! we gotta get our stuff before there’s nothing left!”

without another word you slip into the frenzy of people. jeno struggles to stay behind you. after almost losing sight of you a couple times, he walks a little faster to catch up and places his arm firmly around your waist once he does. you look up at him, your mask covering your slightly agape mouth.

being the gentleman he is, he apologizes. “sorry but i don’t want us to get separated.”

you can only nod and mumble, “good idea.”

jeno pushes the shopping cart with his right hand and holds your figure with his left. once in a while, you’ll break apart from each other to grab an item you need but once it’s in the cart, he’ll make sure you end up in the same position. after an hour or so, you’ve grabbed enough and you decide it’s time to pay.

despite the mask she has on, you can tell the middle-aged woman behind the cash register has a big smile on her face once she catches sight of you and your roommate.

“well, just look at you two.” she sighs. “how cute.”

“oh.” you glance at her then jeno then her again. “oh, no. it’s not like that.”

you attempt to move yourself away from jeno only to find his grip to be so incredibly strong that you almost begin to think he’s trying to hold you in place. once you finally detach yourself from him, you begin loading your groceries onto the counter for the employee to scan. she does so, but not before giving you a displeased look.  

“oh really? he holds you like that because you aren’t together?”

jeno assists her in placing the scanned items in bags. “i didn’t want to lose her.”

she pauses scanning a can of tuna to stare him down. “darling, that sounds like a line from a cheesy hallmark rom-com.”

you can’t help but chuckle. “what he means is that there’s a lot of people here and we didn’t want to get separated.”

jeno adds, “desperate times calls for desperate measures.”

the woman adjusts her glasses. “well, you do certainly seem desperate to have her close to you.”

jeno doesn’t say a word as he continues bagging but his smile reaches his eyes.

   5.    he works out.

why did the pandemic have to hit in the middle of summer?

you often asked yourself this, complaining about how inconvenient it was. especially on the days that made your apartment feel like it was on fire. the days that required a thin tank top and shorts. even then, you found yourself to be drenched in sweat.

you sprawled your arms and legs farther on the sofa, the leather material proving to be very uncomfortable. it was either that or your bed with the warm cotton sheets that stuck to your body. just thinking about it brings you discomfort. the only relief you could think of was a cold shower. you would have already taken one if jeno hadn’t been hogging the one bathroom in the apartment.

“jeno!” you yell.

silence; other than the sound of the water running.

“lee jeno!”

the water stops, temporarily for him to shout back an answer. “what?!”

you wipe at the sweat that has accumulated on the bridge of your nose. “hurry up! i’m melting!”

the water starts back up again and you groan. hoping to distract yourself, you pull out your phone. the group chat with your friends is surprisingly silent so you go to instagram for some entertainment. this time, your ex-boyfriend’s post isn’t the first thing you see. it takes you some scrolling but you do end up seeing another one of his pictures.

it’s simply two intertwined hands with a black and white filter. you identify the one on the left as his and although you aren’t as familiar with the one on the right, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out who it belongs to. contrary to the last, this photo has no cheesy words for a caption, just a red heart.  

but, your stomach doesn’t drop. you don’t feel hurt, either. obviously, you still don’t enjoy seeing him just because of all the awful memories that came with it but other than that, you feel unaffected by the image.

in fact, you feel so confident in yourself that you block him.

you’re surprised you hadn’t done it sooner. you had known you didn’t need him in your life any longer so why keep in contact? you feel like a huge weight has been lifted off your shoulders when you press the red button that would keep him and his girlfriend out of your life. you knew with your whole heart that you didn’t need to see either of them.

before, a bit if you had felt the need to keep an eye on him. to see how he was handling the breakup and torture yourself with the fact that he didn’t seem to care. now, you could say you truly didn’t either. you didn’t need him or his stupid pictures. you had other, better things.

your friends.

your cat (yes, you considered seol to be yours).

your roommate.

you had to admit, jeno was the best thing on that list. quarantine had brought you and him significantly closer and you were over the moon about it. he was so wonderful that you kicked yourself for having lived with him for so long without ever really getting to know him. but it was easy to say you two were making up for lost time seeing as you spent every waking moment together. the record long showers jeno took being an exception, of course.

the moment the door to the bathroom opens, you rush into your room and quickly grab an oversized t-shirt and loose pajama pants to change into after your shower. you nearly drop them when you’re met with jeno’s soaking figure in the hallway.

his hair is damp and you can clearly see how long it had become. his skin looks healthy and moisturized, lotion among other skin care products had probably been applied. what really has you in a shock is the fact that the towel barely hangs below his waist. the droplets of water that fall from his hair and down his neck trail down his chest and toned torso towards the only area he has bothered to cover up. his bulky arms are also slightly wet, his veins popping noticeably. he shakes his head in an attempt to rid his hair of any water. then he runs his fingers through it, his muscles flexing ever so slightly as he does so.

“dude!” you exclaim, without a second thought. “you’re ripped!”

he smiles, his round cheeks growing at the unexpected praise. the way he could have such a rugged body but soft-featured face puzzled you to no extent. “thank you. i lift sometimes.”

“sometimes?” you repeat. “don’t be so humble! you’re basically hercules!”

he clicks his tongue. “ah, c’mon. i’m just an athletic person.”

you keep admiring his physique. “clearly.”

“oh god,” he groans, obviously flustered. “you’re looking at me like you’re gonna eat me or something.”

you hold yourself back from making a less than appropriate innuendo. “no comment.”

his eyebrows shoot up in disbelief. “quarantine is really making you go crazy.”

you point a finger at him. “you try being stuck inside with your hot roommate!”

“trust me, y/n, i know all about hot roommates.”

you tilt your head, acting purposefully oblivious. “are you talking about doyoung?”

“what? no i—“ he sighs. “you know what, just take your shower.”

   6.    you can’t say no to him.

jeno ruffles his black locks with his hand and frowns.

you give him a disappointed look. “knock it off, you’re gonna get dandruff in your soup.”

he ignores your comment. “i look like a hobo.”

you pause, spoon halfway to your mouth. “this i know.”

“y/n, this is serious!”

“okay, okay. what’s the issue?”

“i already told you! i’m a bum!”

“you? a bum?” you pause to think about it. “i mean, mentally? maybe. but physically? no.”

“my hair, though. it’s so long.” he grabs a strand of it and pulls it to emphasize his point.

you shrug. “if having lots of hair is the standard for being a bum, i think most of the population is.”

“i want to cut it,” he announces.

“you should,” you say, pointing your spoon at him. “wanna know why? because if you mess up, no one will ever know. other than me, of course. but if you pay me enough i’ll let you forget it.”

he smiles at the joke for a moment before he leans forward and his face goes serious. “will you help me?”

“what? no way. i’ll mess up. and it’s only funny if you do it.”

he pouts. “please?”

you stir your soup around. “just watch some youtube videos. after three, you’re automatically a professional.”

“i want you.”

the statement has your neck snapping up from your bowl to him. the smug grin on his face lets you know that he was well aware of the double meaning behind his words. it was clear he was trying to fluster you enough to get a yes.

“you think you’re flirty enough to straight up brainwash me into doing stuff?”

“well, i wanted to say that to you anyway but... kind of?”

you feel a smile creep onto your lips at hearing the genuine tone in his voice. you down your last few spoonfuls of soup and quickly stand up. jeno looks up at you, eyes hopeful.

“finish your dinner. get the scissors. meet me in the bathroom.”

not even ten minutes later, jeno practically dances into the bathroom, a pair of red craft scissors in his hand. he sits on top of the toilet lid, figuring that’d be the easiest way for you to reach him. you walk in moments later.

“i’m pretty sure we’re not supposed to be using these types of scissors for hair,” he mumbles as he hands you the sharp utensil.

you twirl them in your hand. “oh, definitely not. do you want to wait then?”

he shakes his head, his shaggy bangs swaying with the movement.  

“alright, let’s get this going then.” you thread your hands through his thick locks to collect some of it in between two of your fingers. you bring the scissors forward and snip the small amount just to test the waters.

you slowly begin to get more comfortable and once you feel like you’re in your element, things begin to speed up. you move and cut faster but with efficiency. you do the spots on the back of his head and work your way forward. when it finally comes time to touch up his bangs, your small bathroom proves to be an inadequate spot to be doing this.

you end up standing balanced inches above jeno’s thighs that he’s pressed together tightly in an attempt to give you more room. you’re constantly readjusting your stance and when he notices, his hands go to your hips. you know he’s just trying to help you stay upright so you do a decent job but you still inhale sharply at the feeling of his hands on you.

not long after, you’re standing next to jeno as he inspects himself in the mirror. his fingers flick his newly shortened bangs around.

“not bad.” he tilts his head in a new angle and nods. “looks super good to me.”

you tuck the scissors into your back pocket with a relieved sigh. “oh thank god. i didn’t want to tell you before we started but i only watched two youtube tutorials on trimming hair.”

he runs a hand through his hair with a chuckle. “now that’s truly worthy of praise. and a tip.”

you raise a brow. “oh yeah? what’s th—“

he cuts you off by pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. he pulls back and drags his thumb over the skin that has come into contact with his lips. “thanks again.” with that, he leaves you standing in the bathroom, eyes wide and face warm.

   7.    he has six best friends.

“can i borrow your laptop?” asks jeno, from outside your door, nearly breathless.

you look up from your book. “uh yeah, sure.”

he rushes in your room and takes the item off of your dresser. “do you happen to have zoom on it?”

you shake your head and he groans. without another word, he disappears, running off into the living room. you hear his frustrated sighs as the minutes pass and he attempts to download the application. you finally decide to go check it out once it becomes too much to bear.

“it sounds like you’re in pain over here,” you comment.

he runs a hand through his hair. “i’m supposed to meet with my friends through a zoom call but it’s so complicated.”

you put a hand on your hip. “bet you five bucks i’ll be able to get it in five minutes.”

“are you kidding? i might be technologically challenged but i’m not stupid. i know you can do it fast, just help me out already, would you?”

“alright, grandpa.”

you type and click away at the screen, jeno watching you do so, entranced but equally as lost.

“well, i was wrong,” you say after a couple moments, leaning back in your chair.

“you couldn’t get it?” asks jeno, worriedly.

“no, it’s not that.” you click something on the screen and the app opens. “turns out i could do it in three.”

he rolls his eyes and shoos you out of the chair. he sits down and enters the code and password for the zoom meeting. it takes a minute, but he finally connects. you count six other people in the call. they all immediately cheer at seeing jeno and you hear them excitedly exclaim his name.

“hey guys,” he says, a smile already reaching his eyes. “it’s so good to see your faces.”

they all nod to agree. you get a good look at each one of them and realize they’re all boys. your eyes read over each of their display names.

mark me in ur heart

hyuckie~~~

moomin enthusiast

nananananana

chnele

lil huddy

“nice name, jeno,” ‘moomin enthusiast’ guy comments, snickering slightly. “glad to see you finally came to terms with it.”

‘jenojam’, his name reads. the rest of the group laughs, also teasing him about it. you assume it’s some kind of inside joke.

the self proclaimed ‘lil huddy’ furrows his eyebrows. “wait, did you choose that name yourself?”

jeno simply nods in response.

he glares into the camera. “donghyuck, you told me i had to put this as my name or else it wouldn’t let me connect!”

donghyuck—or ‘hyuckie~~~’, you presume—shrugs. “oops. guess i was wrong.”

you laugh at the humorous exchange. it seems like the sound has drawn some attention to you when ‘nananananana’ speaks up, eyes trained on you.

“um jeno? don’t you want to introduce your guest?”

jeno beams, dragging you closer into the frame. “i’m sure you all know about my roommate. say hi, y/n.” 

you do so, waving and smiling politely at the group.

“you know, even though we used to always hang at jeno’s, i don’t think we’ve ever actually seen your face,” ‘chnele’ says, tilting his head.

you agree. “me neither. i’ve mostly just heard you guys.”

the ‘mark me in your heart’ boy sheepishly rubs his neck. “sorry. we tend to be a little loud.”

‘chnele’ lets out a high pitched screech of a laugh. “only a little?”

“i recognize that laugh!” you blurt. “i would hear it all the time!”

”that’s our little dolphin,” coos ‘hyuckie~~~’.

“oh god, stop. i hate that stupid nickname.”

“it’s well deserved.”

“i think you should apologize to y/n for being a nightmare to her eardrums.”

“and ours, for that matter.”

“what about all your little freestyles? i’ve had to sit through hundreds of them and i never got an apology!”

“because they’re not bad! could you do any better?”

“you’re a soundcloud rapper, i think anyone could.”

jeno turns to you as the bickering on screen gets louder and louder. “this is gonna be a long call.”

once the group has moved on from roasting the life out of each other, you’re able to engage in some good-natured conversation. jeno teaches you the names and the other basics about the group. some points that stand out about the group is that mark is the oldest, renjun specializes in contemporary dance, jaemin inhales six cups of coffee on the daily, and chenle is insanely rich.

“what about jeno?” you ask them. “anything i should know about him?”

“he’s allergic to cats but the idiot still adopted—“

“she already knows about that, renjun,” jeno chuckles.

“oh. well. that’s pretty much the only interesting thing about him.”

jisung pipes up. “oh wait! he works out religiously too!”

you and jeno share a look. you burst into laughter and he simply glances away, slightly embarrassed. “oh yeah, i know that all too well.”

“and what about the unhealthy cooking obsession?”

you nod at mark’s question. “that too. he cooks dinner almost every night around here.”

renjun purses his lips. “he already cooks for you? wow. he must really like you.”

“you think?” jaemin asks. “didn’t you read any of the messages in the group chat? he’s practically in love with her. his words, not mi—“

“okay! i think it’s time for us to go! bye guys!” jeno doesn’t even give you a chance to say your own goodbye before he’s clicking the ‘end call’ button in the bottom right corner.

you give him a confused look. “what was that all about?”

“they’re crazy.” he laughs. “well, if you need me i’ll be in my room screaming into my pillow for the next couple hours.” he dashes off leaving you standing alone, trying to comprehend what had happened.

   8.    he‘s a great listener.

jeno has officially replaced seol as your movie buddy, not that you have a problem with it. you thought it was nice to have someone you could actually converse with but of course, you make sure seol still sits in.

“what i’m saying is that iron man just wants to protect his team.”

“well, if they sign the accords, they basically surrender themselves to the government.”

“and?”

“you don’t see a problem with that? see, captain america knows what he’s doing. he’s literally an avenger—“

“so is iron man!”

“let me finish! so, he’s an avenger, right? he has the best judgment because he’s saved the world countless times. he knows how to operate his team and do the right thing.”

“okay but there’s casualties. and that’s what iron man is trying to fix.”

“how do you save the world and not have casualties?”

“you just—“ your phone rings mid argument and you raise your finger towards jeno. “this isn’t over.” you put the phone to your ear, not bothering to check the caller id. “hello?”

“sweetheart?”

you feel a chill go up your spine. was it him? no, it couldn’t be. you had blocked his number shortly after you did so on all your social media.

“baby, don’t be so shy. i know you’re there.”

you can’t hold back. “please don’t call me that.”

he chuckles, breathlessly. “oh, c’mon. you used to love it. you still do.”

“no, i don’t. actually, i don’t want to hear your stupid pet names or stupid voice or see any of your stupid posts. just go bother your girlfriend and leave me alone.”

you notice jeno perk up beside you out of the corner of your eye. he must have been caught off guard by your irritated tone.

as always, lucas is unaffected by you. “i’m being nice and giving you a second chance. i even called you behind soyeon’s back.”

“is that something i’m supposed to reward you for?” you scoff. “congratulations, you’re now awful, toxic, and a cheater.”

he growls. the sound was familiar. in your relationship, if you heard it you knew he was going to snap at you until he had the satisfaction of making you cry. “i know you miss me so don’t say things you’re going to regret later. because even when you’re back in my arms, i won’t let you forget it.”

the thought of being back with him made you feel icky. but the fact that he sincerely thought you would crawl back to him set your entire body on fire. “are you joking? i was always aware of the fact that you treated me like the dirt you walked on but do you seriously think that lowly of me?”

you’re rendered speechless and apparently, so is he because the other line stays silent.

“i wouldn’t go back to you if you were the last person on earth,” you spit. “you treated me horribly, wong yukhei. i won’t ever forget it. move on. i have.”

you glance at jeno, his expression more serious than you’ve ever seen it. his eyebrows are furrowed and his eyes are trained on your cellphone. the glare he gives the device is so strong you wouldn’t be surprised if even lucas could feel it, wherever he was.

you hang up and block the number, wishing to never talk to him again. you toss your phone onto the sofa with an exasperated sigh. you find jeno’s gaze to still be focused intensely on it.  

“if you gave lucas that look, i’m pretty sure he’d cry.”

he breaks his concentration, eyes going to you instead. his entire face softens. “all i’m going to say is he better pray we never cross paths.”

“well, if you happen to, call me up. i wouldn’t mind helping you beat the crap out of him.”

jeno chuckles for a second then lowers his voice to a whisper. “he was really bad to you, huh?”

you nod. “he messed me up. i hate to admit it ‘cause i know i was stupid to stay with him for as long as i did.”

your roommate shakes his head. “don’t say that. it’s not your fault he messed up the best thing that would ever happen to him.”

“i thought i was the problem for so long, jeno. i was so blinded by love. then, i realized there was no way he truly cared for me when he treated me like i had no heart to be broken.”

jeno scoots towards you and rubs soothing circles into your arm. “you have such a big heart. and i can’t tell you how sorry i am that he took advantage of that. i’m sorry that you were stuck with someone so insecure and ignorant. please, don’t think about him anymore.”

you hold in your tears. you refused to cry over someone like lucas. “i know. i try so hard not to.”

jeno holds your head into his chest. his arms are placed securely on your back. “oh, baby.”

when jeno uses this pet name on you, it feels so completely different from lucas. you could tell me meant it. he wasn’t using it to make you stay a little longer, to assure you he loved you. strangely enough, you do not need to be convinced of that. you feel like you have known it for a long time.  

   9.    he likes to be the big spoon.

you’re not sure how he’s done it but you end up falling asleep in jeno’s arms. you assume it had been so long since you had been cradled and rocked so delicately that the foreign yet extremely delightful sensation knocked you right out. even seol is deep in sleep, laying down peacefully at your feet.  

you relish in the feeling of jeno pressed right into your back. he fits so perfectly against you that it reminds you of a puzzle piece. to be exact, the moment when you connect the last two pieces and the full picture becomes complete. that was how you felt—complete.

with jeno’s soft breaths tickling the back of your neck and his soft snores filling your ear, you know there’s nowhere else you’d rather be. his arm that is wrapped around you makes sure you can’t escape his embrace. you are positive that even if you had the liberty of doing so, you would stay exactly where you were.

you lean farther back into your pillow, closing your eyes. you let every thought fade away as you try to fall back asleep as soon as possible. you wanted the moment you found yourself in to last as long as possible.

   10.    he has feelings for you.

jeno mumbles sweet nothings into your ear as he toys with your hair.

it just seemed right to him. like something he was meant to do with you. he had seen these types of things in films and shows before. it was intimate and touching, the scenes were always meant to tug at the audience’s heart strings and show how in love the two characters were. perhaps, even though you lay asleep in his arms, he wants you to finally know.

“honestly, being inside with you all the time is kind of the best. i know the whole virus situation is less than ideal but being able to spend so much time with you... that’s all i could ask for.” he pauses. “isn’t it so crazy how before this we were all weird and awkward around each other? well, i guess we still kind of are. that’s mostly my fault so... sorry. i just don’t know how to act around you sometimes. we’re barely getting close and i’m already this attached to you. as jisung would so kindly say, ‘i’m simping’.” he chuckles to himself. “all jokes aside, i really do like you. ever since you moved in here all cute and nervous, you’ve taken your own little place in my heart, as cheesy as it sounds. and these past few weeks, you just keep on taking up more and more room in there. not that i have a problem with it. i just...” he stops as if he doesn’t know how else to express his feelings. “really, really like you.”

“thanks.”

you feel him jolt then abruptly stop stroking your hair. there’s silence until he asks, “you don’t happen to be a sleep talker, do you?”

you shake your head.

“and did you hear like, a lot of what i said?”

“only the important stuff. like how awkward you are and how much you like me.”

“o-oh.”

“but don’t worry. it’s mutual.”

you feel his relieved breath hit the skin of your neck. “that’s the best thing i’ve heard all day.”

you tilt your head back and stare at him, confused. “what, did you seriously think i wasn’t into you?”

he shrugs. “i was too busy simping, i guess.”

you can’t contain your laughter at the use of the slang. “park jisung would not be proud.”   

[kookingtae]

falling into you (pt. 8) PREVIEW

pt 1 | pt 2 | pt 3 | pt 4 | pt 5 | pt 6 | pt 7

→scenario: Jungkook’s innocence is like a breath of fresh air in your wild life, and though you know you’re toxic for him, you just can’t seem to stay away.

→genre: college au, slow burn, mutual pining, shy/nerd jk + bad girl oc (mature themes)

→a/n: so i’m not finished with pt 8 yet, since it’s such a climactic chapter it’s taking a bit longer than i anticipated unfortunately BUT i dont want u guys to think ive forgotten about it!!! i know u all are waiting so patiently, and i cannot thank you enough from the bottom of my heart <3 i hope this preview keeps you excited for what’s to come!

Jungkook could never face Y/N again.

God, how could he, knowing that he’d not only finished in five minutes like a pubescent teenager, but also in his pants while she was on top of him?

Embarrassment didn’t even begin to describe the mortification he felt. He’d never wanted the earth to swallow him whole as much as he did in that moment. Sure, he was aware of his slight social anxiety, the way he was constantly looking to bolt from uncomfortable situations—but this was different entirely. This was new territory for him; he’d never done anything remotely sexual with someone else, period, much less with the girl who hung the stars, moon, and sun in his eyes. What was he supposed to do? There was nowhere to escape to in his own bedroom, no running away from his problems that made him uncomfortable. No, he had to stand there with his head down and his crotch dripping wet while he practically begged her to leave. He had never been so ashamed of himself. He had never felt so pathetic.

But then Y/N surprised him like she never failed to do: she’d given him reassurance, another kiss even, while telling him that she actually enjoyed the experience—went so far as to say it was the best in her life. Now he knew she was lying to spare his feelings. Of all the men Y/N had been with, there was no way a virgin cumming untouched in his pants was the best of them. She was cruel to make him believe otherwise, to give him false hope.

He wouldn’t allow himself to think any differently. He couldn’t allow himself to get hurt.

Which was why he made it his mission to avoid her at all costs—something he’d gotten very good at over the past few months, and the past few weeks, specifically.

But in the same way he’d learned from the patterns of her daily routine and used them as a means to remain hidden, she’d also learned his and utilized them to her advantage as well. It was the only explanation as to how he was turning a corner inside the art building (about to take the rear exit, since she usually waited for him out front) and suddenly she was standing right in front of him.

He instantly skidded to a halt, heart rate shooting to astronomical levels and eyes widening on their own accord. “Y-Y/N,” he stuttered out involuntarily, the sight of her causing every single detail of their time spent together to come rushing back to him like a tidal wave ready to wipe him out.

As if he needed another excuse to think about the moment they shared that had changed him forever, about the way her moans sounded in his ear and her body felt on his lap and the way she touched his cheek, his neck, the way her lips felt on his skin, god help him—

Already he could feel the beginnings of a blush start to rise to his suddenly hot cheeks, and he cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other to keep from springing yet another boner in front of her.

He slid his books in front of his waist, just in case.

While she usually approached him with the natural ease of self-confidence and charm, today she seemed worried, unsure. She chewed at her lower lip—something he didn’t think she really ever did, as he would certainly remember the way it stirred within him—and looked up at him beneath delicate lashes that framed her eyes.

He didn’t have it in him to keep from outright staring at her beauty.

“I… I missed you,” she finally murmured, and he felt the breath physically whoosh from his lungs to join his butterfly-filled stomach all the way at the floor.

It had been a few days since he’d last seen her, since she’d been in his room that night where they opened up about their past and confessed how they truly felt about one another and shared the most life-altering moment he’d ever experienced. He missed her too, god he missed her. He missed everything about her the moment she left his side—would picture her face in his mind as soon as she left his field of vision. But for some reason unknown to him, she was too kind to him, spared his feelings despite knowing what little experience he had. There was no way he’d be able to satisfy a girl—mentally, physically, emotionally—who could have anyone she wanted. Perhaps she pitied him. Either way, if she wouldn’t put a stop to it, then he would.

Or so he’d try, but alas, nothing ever went according to his plans where Y/N was concerned. And here she was, three simple words mumbled into existence and he couldn’t even remember his own name, much less why he’d been trying to fight this.

She seemed to expect he would say nothing—either that or she’d grown used to his silence—because before he had enough sense in him to even think about responding, she was speaking again. “How have you been?”

The question was asked with deliberate, genuine curiosity and concern; she really wanted to know if he was okay, how he was handling things after what had transpired between them. And no matter how hard Jungkook tried to fight this, fight her, fight himself, he was only human.

And so he stopped fighting.

“I– I missed you too,” he breathed out, and it was like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and relocated to his gut. He tensed at his confession, mentally berated himself for his words even though she’d been the one to say them first. He felt like he couldn’t breathe, what with the way his throat locked up.

Though the second he witnessed the smile that sprang to her tantalizing lips, he felt as light as a feather floating in the breeze.

“You did?” Her eyes lit up, sparkled under the fluorescent hallway lights that still managed to capture all of her beauty despite the unflattering lighting. He didn’t think it was possible for any scenery, not even that of a dull and stuffy university building, to make her appear any less breathtaking than she always was.

“I was so worried after I left last week,” she continued without prompt. The mention of his premature finish had him stiffening in dread, though she didn’t let enough silence fester between her words for the anxiety to claw its way up his throat. “I didn’t want you to beat yourself up. I’ve noticed you tend to be too hard on yourself sometimes.” She glanced up at him with the hint of a sheepish grin dancing on her lips.

Her expression said it all: that’s an understatement.

And this shocked him to his core, because she was absolutely right.

Just how well had she gotten to know him in their time spent together over the last few months? And how? And why?

The last question would always boggle him until the end of time; he would never understand why she was interested in him. Why was he the one she had feelings for, when she claimed she never had feelings for anybody? Though he supposed he could ask himself the same thing: why did he feel things for Y/N that he had never felt for anyone else in his life? And the answer was quite simple, really: because it was her.

He didn’t know what about himself was so special to make him stand out in her mind, and as a result he still couldn’t help but be skeptical, even after her confession. But it wasn’t like he had any choice in the matter on what to do with that skepticism—not when his heart kept leading him back to her.

At some point after her accurate description of the inner turmoil that’s been plaguing his mind, his mouth had fallen open slightly. He couldn’t hide the surprise from his face even if he tried; he was speechless.

Y/N gazed up at him, not seeming in any hurry to rush the conversation along, and for that he was grateful. He’d never met somebody so patient and understanding before—just another reason to make Jungkook’s heart flutter with endearment. And it was no secret to himself anymore that he yearned to be in Y/N’s presence for as long as possible whether he was aware of it or not.

“You don’t have to be embarrassed, you know,” she continued as if she could read his mind, and that was when he realized the way his eyes avoided hers and the fact that his skin was the color of tomatoes must’ve been dead giveaways. “I meant it when I said that was the hottest thing I’ve ever experienced.”

Jungkook balked, practically choking on his spit at her forward, shameless words. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to the way she spoke her mind so openly without any fear holding her back. She’d gone through so much in her childhood, in her life—Jungkook not even knowing the half of it, he’s sure—and yet she was still so strong and brave and everything he wasn’t. He couldn’t help but admire the person she was today, despite all the prejudice and judgment he’d held for her when they first met.

He realized now that he was too quick to judge her, to write her off based on rumors and first impressions. He realized now that he was too quick to do that to a lot of people. Just how long had he closed himself off from others based on his skewed, morally righteous perspective? His whole life, if he had to say.

The epiphany that she was physically prying open his third eye with a crowbar, that he was now self aware and changing for the better for her—for himself—hit him all at once.

It was the most frightening sensation of his life, the introvert in him wanting to crawl back into his shell where it was safe and comfortable and dull. But deep down he knew it was also for the best.

“W-why?” He heard himself asking before he knew what he was doing. “Why do you keep saying that?”

He had to know why she insisted on standing by her statement that his mishap was not only hot, but the hottest ever. Why did she insist on lying to him, on giving him false hope? She spoke her mind in every other situation, or at least that’s what he assumed; why did she insist on sparing his feelings in this incident? Was he really that pathetic? Did she pity him that much?

She simply blinked at him once, twice, before: “Because I really like you, Jungkook.”

As if in slow motion, you could visibly see his eyes expand to the size of saucers at your words.

You would’ve found the sight comical had the situation been any different. But the way he continued to disbelieve that you could have feelings for him, that you could be attracted to everything about him despite who he was, despite his inexperience—it made your heart break in your chest. You now knew from where this inferiority complex stemmed—he’d told you himself about his family situation—and if anything, it made you want to rebuild his confidence that much more. He needed to see himself the way you saw him.

But you also didn’t want to overwhelm him, either. And you were more than willing to walk that fine line with Jungkook no matter how long it took.

“So are we on for a study sesh tonight?” You continued nonchalantly, wanting to return things to normalcy for him as much as possible before he ran away mid-conversation as he’d done so many times before. You wanted to ease his self-doubt so he’d stop avoiding you—like he’d been doing the past few days—as much as possible.

Jungkook blinked as if trying to adjust from the whiplash of your subject-change. “U–uh… if you want?”

“Of course I want to,” you replied without missing a beat, not caring how desperate you seemed so long as he didn’t question where you stood. You took a step forward, unable to help the intangible, magnetic draw you felt to him as you gazed up at him beneath your lashes. “That is… if you want to.”

You watched in agony as a gulp slowly raked its way down his throat.

“I–” his voice was hoarse before he cleared his throat. “I uh, can’t tonight. I have to study for math.”

You weren’t even sure how one studied for math, but you weren’t about to question the expert. “That’s fine! We could… do it tomorrow?”

Jungkook chewed at his bottom lip, an action he always did when he was internally struggling with something before he finally nodded his head yes in a slow, hesitant manner. “N–not in my room though,” he added as an afterthought, and when your gaze snapped to his he had a pleading expression in his eyes.

A mix of emotions rolled through you. On one hand, you were horrified at the possibility that he thought the only reason you wanted to study again was so that you could get in his pants. Which—okay, you’re not going to lie, you would love to have a repeat of last week—but that definitely wasn’t why you wanted to see him. He meant more to you than just a means to get off, which was what you’d thought of flings in the past. You didn’t want him to be just a fling, though.

You didn’t want to think of the meaning behind that fact right now, either.

But on another hand, you understood where Jungkook was coming from. Maybe it was because you’d studied him enough over the past few months to learn some of his behavior (for once you finally saw the appeal of studying), so you knew that level of intimacy was probably extremely overwhelming for Jungkook and he needed a moment to step back. Hell, it was even overwhelming for you, and that was saying something. Never had your senses, your heart, your body, your soul been attacked like that with such an abundance of emotional pleasure, and you hoped with all your might that Jungkook was feeling the same—that that was the reason he needed a breather from being alone with you, and not the fact that he just didn’t want to be intimate with you.

Unless…

Oh god, had you misread the situation entirely? Had Jungkook hated everything about that night?

Suddenly you were feeling sick to your stomach. The thought of you misunderstanding his confession—or worse, him changing his mind completely—made you want to escape to a dark and desolate stairwell and cry in the hidden nooks of the windowsill again; the irony that not only would you be pulling a Jungkook by escaping mid-conversation, but that the stairwell was also the place the two of you had your first real conversation, wasn’t lost on you.

“M–my roommate is staying in, studying for finals.” The sound of Jungkook’s voice was like a breath of fresh air whooshing into your lungs after almost drowning underwater. You blinked out of your inner turmoil, focusing on him. “So he’ll be there, i–in my room, this whole week.”

And suddenly your heart was warming with relief, hope, appreciation, like flowers blooming in the spring after a torrential downpour. Just when you thought you had him figured out, this enigma of a boy continued to surprise you. It was usually easy for you to hide your emotions—you’d been doing so for years, always wore a mask around others so that they couldn’t see the real you—and yet somehow, Jungkook must’ve sensed them anyway. He sensed the doubt, the pain, the fear that you vowed never to cage you crawling up your throat and threatening to consume you whole, and he eased it. He didn’t want you to misunderstand him. He wanted to reassure you.

If anything, that was just a testament to how Jungkook had broken down your walls—how much you had let him in, how well he was able to read the emotions you wanted to keep hidden. Your mask had begun to break, the real you showing through the cracks, and Jungkook was still standing here. He hadn’t run away.

You fought the urge to grab him and slam your lips onto his.

“Not in your room, then,” is all you managed to breathe out beneath a fluttering smile.

[choptop-sawyer]

Hi again 😎💫 im here to dig at ur brain again bcs i. M. Aaa sorry i just love ur stuff but. I have this kinda rly specific storyline type hc area and I'd love to hear any hcs you might get from it if its at all jr thing. But um I keep sometimes thinking back to the idea of kinda, vaguely growing up in the same area as the Sawyers, being childhood friends (and being stupid 2gether, running arount the countryside, ditching school & playing in corn fields) -

But then having to leave in your late teens to school / whatever (I mean 😎 my sappy ass also thinks abt mutual pining w Bobby but you know...... nearly unrelated.......)

Then, later on (Bobbys now Chop Top, Nubbins is..... dead I guess but also >:( maybe not, the family is up to being a mess etc) returning to town to take a break from work or whatever. N meeting up w the family again, i mean, oblivious to the bullshit they get up to but.... yk

This is a bit rambly i should probs have waited to sleep but I can't get the thought of returning to the Sawyer door wearing Bobbys tie dye sweatshirt that hr borrowed u years ago and all the impact of being a former family member bc u were also kind of an outsider or whatever but also the drama of leaving so uwu sksjd

This got so long. All i wanted to ask is: sawyer family headcanons for a childhood friend returning to town after being away for years. Rip.

THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS god I love the image too of just standing in the doorway,, you're not home, you've changed a little bit, but you still fit into some of the old aspects you know so well they fit you and cover you.

Actually this is great because that fic that I swear exists has pretty much the same premise but!!! I can make this one less tragic than that one. 😎

(This is mostly Chop Top n you centric please don't mind)

Also this timeline is all fucky. I think that as soon as Chop came home from Vietnam the Sawyers had basically uprooted themselves and were living in North Texas because of the... Hardesty incident. But like can we pretend that that never happened they r still there in Newt? Just for this. (Hope you like it!)

Chop Top's Childhood Friend Returns

You don't think you would have turned out the way you did without the Sawyers.

They were the main element of your childhood, a mystery that you had to be a part of. A mystery, because they were closed off. Mistrustful. The sickness of small towns carried to the extreme, because they were mostly alone. The loneliness made them more miserable, the misery made them more isolated. A cycle, a legacy.

So it was a a miracle that you were even allowed to be apart of some of it, but you attribute that miracle to Bobby.

He seemed to think you were as much of mystery as what you thought the Sawyers were. Two kids looking through a small window into another world. But he liked that. He liked that you were something different, something new. From beyond that small world of loneliness that lived in the house.

You learned quickly that he had a desire for anything beyond that world. So he'd invite you out with him, when you were kids, to run free in the tall grass, when you got older, to drive with him to places unknown. He had a knack for finding these odd places, and he always brought you along with the music cranked up loud on the radio.

Bobby told you many times that he wanted to see the world. He had this lust for life that went beyond the restlessness of the young. He also said that he wanted to bring you along with him when he saw the world. You didn't ever mention how that always made your heart skip a beat when he said that.

Maybe you should have. But the past is the past and you can't change that.

You knew the other Sawyers too, but Bobby tended to avoid them sometimes. But occasionally, you got to hang out with them.

Nubbins was an enigma. You didn't think Nubbins was his real name. But that's the only one you heard from him, but the name situation was the least confusing thing. He was the most open person you knew. And yet you couldn't understand him, and decided at some point that you wouldn't ever. But he was fun. His energy was infectious, if he was filled with joy, you couldn't help but laugh with him too. That was Nubbins, so absent of any purposeful deceit that he was almost a mirror, you saw yourself around him, sometimes it was uncomfortable, but other times it was fun.

Bubba was the opposite. He seemed to be legitimately wary of you. Bobby once told you that Bubba didn't like to leave the house, ever. He stayed and did the chores. You wondered if he minded, being stuck with all the chores but Bobby said he didn't. It was comforting for him. Always having something set to do. You only saw him once. Nubbins had made him tag along when he needed him to hang some things from a tree. Bones from indeterminate animals, a clock with a nail through it. You don't think Nubbins actually needed Bubba to reach the branches (he climbed pretty well) but he just wanted his little brother to see his work. Bubba didn't make eye contact with you the entire time. He was wholly focused on his task of helping Nubbins. But he was gentle when he helped his brother, careful, and for that you liked him.

Drayton was... well. He was the one Bobby argued with the most. He was his brother, but with how much age between the two, it was almost hard to believe sometimes. Drayton was the one that everybody in Newt knew the most. People liked him well enough, but they said he was odd behind his back. He knew that. You don't think he trusted anything outside the insular world he and his family had existed in for years, and was at odds with Bobby because he didn't get why Bobby wanted anything to do with the world outside.

Oftentimes you would see Bobby after he and Drayton got into it. He'd be fuming, but he'd smile when he saw you. You'd leave with him whenever he came to you. These adventures were the most fun you had when you were there.

The other times you'd go off were when he'd convince you to skip school. Bobby never went himself. He didn't get the idea of all those kids sitting in classrooms for hours, doing nothing but writing and listening. Why do that when you can find things out for yourself? Get into some trouble? In his mind, he was saving you from a very boring thing.

You two knew the area around Newt well. The fields and the flat expanses were the best kind of playground. Your dreams were still set in them. A kind of sunshine filled melancholy.

Bobby told you things in the grass. His dreams yes, but his own thoughts. On music, on late night radio, on movies, on you. He perhaps thought of you as wonderful as voices on the radio, stars on the screen. He never told you that though. But your name was never far from his mouth when Bobby talked about the things he loved.

You and him loved each other as much as two kids who didn't know how to could. He was always on your mind now, with not much tangible objects to remember him with. A photograph taken by Nubbins, your faces blurred because you were laughing. A button, the pin on the back bent. A sweatshirt, which he tie dyed himself, and gave to you one night. The colors were faded. You never did get to return it.

The years away did nothing to lessen thoughts of him. No, they just blurred all together now, and the stream of the sunshine filled melancholy was almost endless. You needed a break. There was only one place you could think of that could help you with that.

So you came back. All things led back to this place eventually. Newt was dying, or dead. Didn't you see somewhere that when a ship went down, it took everything with it? You didn't want to stay for long. But you had to see all of them, you had to know that they were all not these strange figures you had dreamt up.

You went right to the house. You'd never actually been allowed inside, Bobby just always said something along the lines of 'Grandma and Grandpa are napping upstairs' or 'there's a mess' (never mind that he could care less usually about messes.) But you figured he had had a good reason. Maybe he was embarrassed.

When you knocked on the door, your heart was pounding. And that was all. Nothing happened, no indication that anyone was there. You waited, the sweatshirt was too hot but you didn't want to take it off.

Maybe you should come back another time. You were just about to turn around and leave when the door burst open, almost whacking you in the face. And there (you couldn't believe your eyes you couldn't this was a dream) he was.

Bobby had a hammer raised over his head, grinning, he was poised to swing it down, but then he saw you and he felt as if he was in a dream too.

It's been so long. He thought he made you up, a dream to carry him through misery, and you looked the part, even as you stood before him on the doorway. The light of the setting sun shone behind you, heat waves shimmered in the dusk, and you... you.

Facing each other, you stood, just staring. Over head the sky grew colorful, in the fields the grass whispered in the wind. Nothing had changed. Everything had changed. Bobby dropped the hammer and grabbed for your face, and he held it, fingers digging in so tight it hurt.

"H-hey you." He said, and fell to his knees, releasing your face. You numbly touched the marks his fingers left. Bobby still looked like a man who had seen a ghost.

You called his name, and his eyes looked lost, like he hadn't heard it in a long time. He looked up at you, and you could really get a good look at him. His face was leaner, he looked sickly and wiry, but his eyes were just as you remembered. You sank down to the porch to sit with him.

"Fuck... FUCK I didn't... I- I thought ya'd forgotten all about me... uh.. uhm. Fuck! I mean, r-really! Turnin' up out of the blue like you're some kinda... ghost or whatever... WHOA man... like, ya here to return m-my, my sweatshirt? You're wearin' it, you can keep it! You look better in it anyway... heh, fuck." He rambled on and on, hands tensing and twitching as if they were moving to touch you again, just to reaffirm your existence. Did he know how glad you were to see him? Did he know that you hadn't felt right for the longest time being away?

You forgot all about the sweatshirt, the hammer he had raised with a sadistic grin. You reached out and held one of his twitching hands, and he stilled and stopped talking. There was a peace now.

It didn't seem possible for your heart to feel this full. But it was. And by god, if this wasn't the best decision you made in your life to visit your old hometown, if only just for this moment.

Bobby stood, with your hand still in his, pulling you up. He smiled at you, and you knew you still loved him, and in your deepest heart, you knew he loved you too.

But this time around, maybe you and him could love each other right.

[let-me-write-shit]

Could u do one w famous!reader (singer and actress) and she’s Brazilian and they met at late late show or idk some other talk show?? Thank u love ur writing

A/N: Thank you so much for the request, @lebortoletto, and sorry it took so long! Hope you like it!! 

Word Count: 4,746

Requests are OPEN! If you have a request for a blurb, oneshot, imagine, whatever, Send me a message HERE!!!

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The Late Late Show

Y/N always loved coming on James Corden’s ‘The Late Late Show’. His team was always super organized and kind, and James sometimes treated his guests with a meal at a restaurant after the taping since it was usually filmed during dinnertime, and they always had a lot of fun on-set. James was one of the few television hosts whom Y/N would consider a friend.

Of course, being an actress provided Y/N an opportunity to meet and make friends with hundreds of other celebrities, and she considered herself to be amongst nearly all groups of celebrity friendships, but there were some more notable people which she hadn’t had the pleasure to meet, yet. One being Harry Styles.

She’d wanted to meet him since the days of One Direction, but their paths somehow never crossed, which was odd considering nearly all of her friends were mutuals with him. They followed each other on Instagram and Twitter, and would occasionally like the other’s pictures or tweets, but that was about as far as it went. She didn’t have the courage to message him. But that ended today. Both of them would be appearing on his show together.

She and her team arrived early, being escorted to a private room. Most of her team went to the main backstage room while Y/N got her hair and makeup done in her private room. There was still some time left to spare by the time they were finished, and Y/N, along with her PR person, decided to greet everyone backstage and have a quick snack before she changed clothes. She bumped into Reggie and a few other members of James’ team on the way back, smiling and chatting with them while they walked down the hall. As soon as she entered the room, she heard her name called out.

“Y/N! Hello!”

Y/N turned her head in the direction of the voice and smiled when she saw James Corden in the middle of a conversation with Harry Styles and someone else she hadn’t recognized, presumably on his team. She made her way over, noticing Harry holding a small, half-eaten sandwich, and trying to keep her composure.

“Hello, so good to see you again,” Y/N grinned, taking Jame’s hand and pecking him on each cheek before turning to Harry, heart pounding, “Hi, how are you? I’m Y/N.”

“Good, thanks, I’m Harry,” his voice was deep and muffled, trying to introduce himself with a mouth full of sandwich. He leaned in for a one-arm hug and pecked either side of her face. Once they pulled apart he had dramatically swallowed his food and smiled sheepishly, “Sorry,” he chuckled, “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“We were just talking about you,” James interrupted.

Your expression changed to one of surprise before Harry chimed in, holding a finger up and nodding, “Yeah, I’m a big fan. Salacity was incredible.”

“Oh, thank you so much,” Y/N blushed, looking between the two of them, “Well, I’m obviously a fan, too. Who isn’t?”

“Obviously, you mean me,” James joked, flicking his imaginary hair back.

The two laughed while Y/N nodded, “Obviously.”

Y/N continued on, asking James about his family, and attempted to remain calm while Harry’s overwhelming presence barely a foot beside her lingered. She could feel the warmth radiate from his side, fighting the urge not to look over at him every five seconds, though she couldn’t help but feel his eyes occasionally glance her way.

Since James was so close with both Harry and Y/N, it seemed to be easy to hold a conversation. But when James was ushered away by the crew to start prep and begin filming for his show, it left Harry and Y/N an opportunity to talk. They still had a bit before they would be called out.

“So, I heard you’ll be in the new Marvel film,” Harry turned to her.

Y/N’s mouth fell open, smirking unsurely. That news hasn’t been released yet, and as far as she was aware, not even her biggest fans knew about it. “How did you hear that?”

He grinned, looking down and then back up at her, “Uh, Alexa may have mentioned it.”

“Alexa Chung,” Y/N repeated, rolling her eyes with a smirk. Alexa Chung was a supermodel and one of Y/N’s closest friends. She shook her head, muttering, “I knew she couldn’t keep her mouth shut. Yeah, I mean the contract is still under negotiation, but it’s looking good.”

Harry smiled, “Congratulations. I’m sure it’ll be amazing. Can’t wait to see it in theatres.”

“Thank you,” Y/N nodded.

Soon they were joined with more people from the crew of The Late Late Show, as well as more people from their own team as they were told the order of operations and how things were going to run tonight. James had a few segments he had to do on his own before interviewing the two of them, then on to a game, and a small break before Harry would perform.

They listened, intently, a handful of m&m’s in her hands. She noticed Harry shifting in her peripheral and when she turned to see what he was doing, he was already looking at her, pointing at her hands and mouthing, ‘throw me one’. Y/N giggled, picking up a red chocolate candy and scanning the circle of people to make sure no one was staring at her before quickly flicking it across the circle. Harry jerked to the left, trying to catch it in his mouth, but it just bounced off of his chin and to the floor. Only one girl seemed to notice and chuckled.

Harry turned to her, mouth ajar and brows scrunched up, pretending to be indignant and mouthing, “What was that?”

“Another,” Y/N mouthed, grabbing a blue one, this time. Once again, she scanned the circle and chucked the m&m higher.

This time, Harry hardly had to move. He opened his mouth and caught it, smiling and chewing on the candy. “Nice throw,” he nodded, approvingly.

After the meeting, Y/N’s Publicist urged her back towards her private room so she could get changed. She slipped into a sexy red pantsuit that plunged down her neckline and flared at the wrists and ankles, pairing it with a pair of matching red high-heels. Again, she made her way backstage where Harry was, talking to some more people, and when they both saw each other they froze, eyes widened for a moment before their smiles turned into laughter.

He made his way over, now wearing a white button-up underneath his red suit and matching red pressed pants and red shoes. “You copied me!”

Y/N shook her head playfully, joking, “We should swap our suits mid-show and see if anyone notices.”

Harry laughed, “Yes! I can wear yours for the performance!”

The two were greeted by another crew member and led to the side of the stage where they had to remain silent. They looked at each other and back to their crew, silently shimmying and to the sound of James’ voice before their names were called and an eruption of screams and claps echoed through the air from the live studio audience.

Harry let Y/N walk out first and followed her towards the stage as they smiled and waved to the crowd before stepping up on the platform to greet James with a friendly hug and peck on the cheek, sitting side-by-side on the couch.

When the cheers died down, James turned to the two with a grin and said, “It’s great to have both of you back on the show. What is this?” he motioned towards their outfits, laughing, “You’re wearing the same outfit! Did you plan this?”

They both laughed and Harry joked, “Yeah, I rang her and asked what she was wearing and went out and bought the same exact thing.”

“I wanted to give you a heads up so you could match us, too, but Harry told me not to because you would outshine us,” Y/N played along, making James belly-laugh along with the audience.

“I was this close to being upset with you both for not including me,” James laughed, settling down, “You two have never actually met before, have you?”

“No,” they both shook their heads, looking at each other for a second with a smile, “First time.”

“That’s surprising because you both seem to have a lot of the same friends.”

Harry nodded, “Yeah, we seem to run in the same circles, but never at the same time.”

“I think he was just avoiding me, really,” Y/N nodded, making the boys laugh.

Harry chuckled, “yeah, I see her at a party and I duck behind the trash cans,” he did his best impersonation.

James laughed, turning towards Y/N, “You must have been partying a lot this past weekend after your big win.” Y/N smiled widely while the audience, along with Harry, clapped loudly. Cheers, again, echoing from the crowd. James continued, “You’re new movie, Salacity, was nominated for a bunch of awards, but you made history as the first Brazilian to win an Academy Award for Best Actress. What was that like?”

Cheers erupted again and Y/N bit her lip, nodding and looking up at everyone. This never got old. “Thank you,” Y/N grinned, turning back towards James, “Honestly, I think I blacked out when they called my name.” Everyone laughed as she continued, “It was so surreal. I’ve always dreamt of winning an Academy Award but never thought in a million years that I would be the first Brazilian to win. I’m incredibly proud and grateful and just so honored to even be in the same room as all of those talented people. I’m very lucky.”

“Well you deserved every bit of it,” James nodded, earning a voice of agreement along with more cheers from the audience, “Salacity was also nominated for Best Original Song, which was written and sung by you, is that right?”

Y/N nodded, “Yeah, Harry’s not the only talented musician here.”

Both of them laughed as jokingly threw his hands up, stood, and pretended to walk off set. When he plopped back on the couch he said, “First you steal my outfit, then you steal my job?”

“I’m so sorry. I’ll let you open for my next tour,” she joked back.

She felt silly for being so nervous when she woke up this morning. Truth is, this is one of the easiest interviews she’s done. Normally she struggled for the right words to say or with getting a feel on whether she needed to be more professional or if she could let her silly flag fly. Because she knew James so well and got along with Harry so quickly, it made things a lot easier.

They discussed Harry’s career for a bit before circling back to Y/N as James said, “Now, we had your counterpart, KJ Appa, on our show last week. Such a nice guy, by the way.”

“So sweet,” Y/N nodded in agreement as James continued.

“And he had nothing but good things to say about you. He even said that you were one of the best on-screen kisses he’s had” James admitted, making the audience awe as Y/N blushed and smiled. James carried on, “But he did mention a particularly….awkward moment between the two of you on set. Care to elaborate?”

When Y/N’s eyes widened and shifted in her seat in embarrassment, James laughed. She looked at Harry beside her to see him curious and she began to explain, “Well, as you know, Salacity is a very, uhm, how do you put it?”

“Erotic?” James offered, laughing again.

Y/N nodded, chuckling, “Yes, there’s a lot of sex scenes. So, anyway one the very first sex scene we filmed, I’m in this sexy, lacey black lingerie, basically strapped onto this harness contraption in the air and KJ’s character has to come in from behind me, but the harness that was holding my arms snapped, tore off my bra, and I was dangling by my legs upside down with hundreds of crew members watching. And KJ, the sweet guy he is, sees that my bra came off and panicked, and he jumped in, practically hugging me as I was hanging upside down to cover me. But he didn’t realize that the only thing he was wearing was this sock that covered his dick because we were just about to film this sex scene, and it was all up in my face.”

Everyone burst into laughter as Y/N explained, “That poor guy was just trying to help, but they got me down pretty quickly. But it definitely lessened the tension for the rest of filming. We got closer after that.”

“Can’t get much closer than that, can you?” Harry joked, making her laugh, as well.

When that portion of the interview had finished, cameras cut and their team had rushed over to do a few quick makeup and hair touch-ups, laughing and joking with each other about how well it was going so far. They were then directed towards a different area of the stage, sat around a table with rancid smells lingering around.

“Have you ever done this before?” Harry asked her as they were getting re-wired and James was getting prepped.

Y/N shook her head, pushing her hair behind her back and screwing up her face, “No, and I might vomit just looking at all this stuff.”

Harry nodded, “I’ve got an extra toothbrush you can have afterward.”

James came back and they were given two minutes to get situated before the cameras focused in on them. Reggie and the band played the theme song of Spill Your Guts or Fill Your Guts, while Y/N rang her fingers and Harry looked between her and James. Cheers and claps sounded and James smiled teasingly at the two.

“You both look thrilled to be doing this,” he said, sarcastically.

“Oh, yeah, can’t wait,” Harry retorted.

Y/N pursed her lips, shaking her head, “I must have been out of my mind when I agreed to this.”

They laughed as James directed their attention to the table, spinning it, “Alright, let’s see what we’ve got here. We’ve got 1,000-year-old egg, Fish eye and bird saliva, cow tongue, salmon smoothie, cow blood and pork tongue jelly, bull penis, hot dog water, which is the absolute rankest thing I’ve ever had, and giant water scorpion.”

“Why?” Y/N groaned, sitting back in her chair in disgust.

Harry chuckled and James laughed as he explained, “So here’s how this game works. We are gonna ask each other questions, okay. The questions are written here and we have not seen them. We have a choice. We can either answer these questions truthfully, or, we have to eat the food that the other person chooses. Okay?” Harry and Y/N nodded in understanding. “Alright, ladies first. Y/N, you are going to choose a food for Harry that he has to eat, should he not answer the question.”

She glanced and spun the tabletop in search of food, bending down and taking a whiff of something awful, she gagged, making them laugh, turning the tabletop until something was placed in front of him, “I’ll go with the fish eye and bird saliva.”

“That’s the one I was least looking forward to,” Harry groaned.

“Were you looking forward to any of them?” James shot back, laughing. “Alright, Y/N, what is your question for Harry.”

Y/N turned her card over in her hands and scanned it before chuckling, blushing, and looking up at him, “Harry, backstage you mentioned you were a big fan of my new movie. How much of it had to do with my sex scene, and what did you think about it?”

“Which one?” he joked, smiling, making everyone in the audience gasp and giggle.

Harry blushed, straightening out his suit, a lopsided, shy smile still stretched on his face, “Uh...I mean, even without the sex scenes it’s a brilliant movie. But, uh, yeah. They were very….Oh god,” he slapped a hand on his forehead, looking down and making the audience laugh. Y/N shook her head in amusement as he attempted to regain composure, “Yeah, they were very realistic.”

“How many times did you rewind those scenes?” James teased.

“No, no, no, that wasn’t the question. It’s my turn now,” Harry waved his finger, making everyone laugh again as the band played and Harry spun the table. “James, I’m going to give you….well, I know how much you love hot dogs, so I’m gonna give you the hot dog water.”

“You dick,” James groaned, taking a sniff and gagging, “That really, truly is the worst thing we’ve ever had on this show. Alright, then, what’s my question?”

Harry picked up the card and grinned, “James, you have had a lot of big-name celebrities on your show. Who was the biggest disappointment?”

The crowd ooed as James’ face fell, shaking his head and looking back at the producers, “Who wrote these?”

“Come on, don’t be a pussy, answer it,” Y/N joked, making everyone laugh.

James shook his head, “I can’t. I can’t,” and he picked up the shot glass and tipped it into his mouth.

Everyone gasped and he immediately reached for the bucket and spit it all out, “That is horrible!” he exclaimed, rinsing his mouth out with water, “Why do we still have that? Alright, Y/N, I am going to pick for you….” he spun the table around before grinning and halting a pink, meaty cube in front of her, “Cow blood and pork tongue jelly.”

Y/N winced, poking at the large cube and gasping, “Oh my god, why is it so hard?”

“That’s what she said,” Harry chimed, making everyone laugh.

“We all know how you feel about my movie, Harry,” shot back, making everyone burst into laughter and Harry blush.

Harry hit his face for a second before James continued, snorting, and looking up at Y/N, “Y/N, you’ve been rumored to have very famous exes. Between Timothee Chalamet, Robert Pattinson, and Taylor Zakhar Perez, rank them from best to worst in bed,” Y/N’s mouth fell as the audience gasped and laughed.

“Pattinson’s gotta be the best, hasn’t he?” Harry assumed, making Y/N hide her face.

“Now, this is not to say that any of them are bad. Maybe they're in the top three,” James suggested, “But of the top three, who is the worst,” he laughed.

Y/N uncovered her face and looked between the two men, reaching for her fork and knife.

“Oh god,” Harry winced, as James shouted, “No! No!”

She dug her fork in and sliced a corner off, “I never kiss and tell,” placing her knife down and taking a deep breath before hurriedly putting it in her mouth. The texture was what she imagined dog food tasted like, and she gagged, grabbing her tin can and spitting it in before swishing her water around in her mouth and spitting that out, as well.

“That was disgusting,” Y/N blotted her mouth with the towel.

“I can’t believe you’ve done that,” James shook his head.

“And I’m not doing it again,” she took another sip of her drink, “Is it my turn now?”

“Yeah, Y/N, you go ahead and choose something for Harry to eat if he doesn’t answer the question.”

She spun until she landed on the 1,000 year old egg. James announced what it was as Harry nodded and said, “Alright”. Y/N picked her card, turned it around, and said, “Oh, no.”

“Oh, God, what is it?” Harry sat up straighter.

“Harry,” Y/N started, “You and Niall are the only remaining members of One Direction who are not parents. Rank the members of One Direction from worst to best parents.”

Without hesitation, Harry stabbed his fork into the egg and shoved it in his mouth. Everyone gasped and Y/N pulled away, covering her face with the card and using it as a sort-of shield. He made a show out of slowly chewing it, holding back a gag. He used his water to swallow it down and stuck his tongue out to show that he had finished it.

“No way,” Y/N shook her head, nose scrunched.

“You are insane,” James shook his head.

“Tastes exactly the way you think,” Harry took another sip of water. “Right, James. I’m going to choose for you…...the water scorpion.”

“The giant water scorpion. For reference, this is what he’s chosen for me,” James picked up the stiff, hard, black bug and showed the camera. “Go on, what’s your question.”

Harry cleared his throat, picked up a card, and chuckled, “James, I’ve been on your show for years, and even taken over for you twice. Who is your favorite member of One Direction.”

A smile slowly spread on James' face and he shook his head, staring off at the audience as they screamed and laughed. “I can’t choose that,” James breathed, turning to face him.

“Well, you have to, or else you’ll be eating a giant water scorpion.”

“Oh, come on, we all know it’s not Harry,” Y/N joked, earning an amused glare from Harry.

“Excuse me,” Harry said, “I happen to know, for a fact, that it is me. Go on, James. Tell ‘em.”

“You think it’s you, do ya?” James questioned, looking between them before finally picking up the water scorpion, “You keep thinking that,” he joked before taking a bite of its head and chewing. He laughed mid-chew, spit it out in his bucket, and took another sip of water.

“How dare you,” Harry joked, indignantly.

James laughed, turning the table, “Y/N, It’s my turn to ask you a question. But first, I’m going to give you the salmon smoothie.”

“Ugh,” Y/N sniffed it’s pungent aroma, sitting away from the glass of pink, chunky fish.

She looked up at James as he scanned the card and laughed, “Y/N, you were nominated for a lot of awards this year. Who has won against you that didn’t deserve to?”

“Oh noooo,” Y/N trailed, throwing her head back, causing James and Harry to laugh.

“No, come on, we were all shocked on at least one of those categories,” James offered. Y/N shook her head, taking hold of the glass.

“Chug, chug, chug!” Harry chanted, compelling the audience to join in.

“Fuck off,” Y/N mouthed to Harry, making him laugh as she took a swig of the monstrous drink.

The second it hit her tongue, she heaved, quickly grabbing the tin and spitting the contents in as James called the end of the game. She took several sips of water, gulping it down to alleviate the lingering taste in her mouth. They called for a wrap, and Harry immediately dug out a packet of gum from his pocket, offering one to each of them while more crew rushed up to them.

Y/N thanked him, shoving the wrapper in her suit pocket, and after they were briefed from the crew, they had about fifteen minutes to spare while they set up for Harry’s performance. People from each of their teams tried to talk to them, but Y/N had something else in mind.

“Follow me,” she told him, grabbing his arm and jogging through the halls backstage. He chuckled, confused, but intrigued, following closely behind her until they reached the door of her dressing room. “Give me your suit jacket.”

Harry’s eyebrows raised and mouth formed an ‘O’, realizing what she was doing. With a grin, he unbuttoned his suit and shrugged it off, carefully handing it over to her. She shot him a smile, which made him grow steadily more keen, watching as she slipped into the room and closed the door behind her, disappearing. He waited, leaning against the wall for what seemed like a little longer than necessary for switching jackets. When she emerged wearing his jacket, his smile widened.

“Looks better on you,” he smirked.

She smiled, passing him the clump of red fabric that was her top, “Let’s see if we can say the same about you.”

He slipped his arms through the sleeves of her jacket, and although there was plenty of room in the arms because of the flare, the chest and waist were a bit tight. He made sure not to tie the sash too tightly and straightened it out, “How do I look?”

She giggled, flattening the collar of the jacket and joking, “Beautiful.”

They made their way back towards the main area of the backstage, surrounded by their teams and crew, laughing about the jacket change and prepping Harry some more as he rummaged through a small travel-sized toiletry bag for the disposable toothbrushes and toothpaste, and the two of them brushed their teeth.

Eventually, Harry was ushered to another stage where he and a band were situated. Lights dimmed and shone strategically on him as he was announced and began to play. Y/N, never having been to a Harry Styles concert, and a fan of his music, watched from the side of the stage, arms crossed and leaning against a large black case of some sort. He looked over at her a couple of times, trying to hide a coy smile, he danced around the stage and used the sash on her jacket like a rope, swinging it around.

When he finally finished, she, along with the studio audience, clapped and cheered for him. He thanked them, clasping his hands and bowing a few times, humbly repeating, “Thank you,” while James announced it was a wrap. Y/N joined Harry on the stage where the two of them, along with James, greeted people in the audience, signing pictures, papers, and phone cases, just chatting with the fans and taking selfies with them.

James, Harry, Y/N, and their publicists spent about an hour and a half to two hours after the taping to sit down at a nearby restaurant for a bite to eat. They were seated at a private table, enjoying some more banter and fun. She had a feeling that Harry was flirting with her, or maybe she was just hoping he was. He started it off by sneakily stealing bits of fries off of her plate throughout the meal as he sat across from her, and she would reciprocate by ‘accidentally’ stepping on his toes under the table.

“Hope I didn’t scuff those Gucci loafers,” she winked, smirking.

As much as she didn’t want the night to end, there weren't many excuses she could make to prolong the conversation, and everyone else was very clearly tired aside from the two of them. Y/N stayed towards the back of the group as they made their way back outside, and Harry slowed his pace and hung back until he was walking side-by-side with Y/N.

“I guess I should give this back to you,” he slipped the jacket off of him as they exited through the back, letting the cool LA air swirl on their faces.

Everyone was giving hugs and saying their goodbyes. Y/N looked down at her jacket in his hand and she leaned in to kiss either side of his face, lingering a little longer than normal. When she pulled away she shook her head and lightly pushed the jacket back towards him, “No. Keep it. An excuse to see you again.” And as she began walking backward to join her group, she called out, “check the pockets.”

His toothy smile turned into a furrowed eyebrow. Confused, he dug his hand in either pocket of the jacket until he pulled out what looked to be the gum wrapper. But, upon closer inspection, he noticed a series of numbers written in black ink. Her phone number. He looked up just in time to see Y/N opening a car door.

“Call me!” she shouted, smirking, before getting in and closing the door.

Harry’s smile grew even more, clutching the red jacket tighter and slinging it over his shoulder, making sure to carefully store the gum wrapper in his wallet and watching as her car drove off down the street and out of view.

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Taglist:

@odetostep @mylittleangel9403 @thurhomish @fallingfordolans @gwenlovesharrystyles , @harryswinterberries, @gucciboots, @golden-grande, @mylittleangel9403​ @korlynn-grace @ilovedogs1989 @aalessandrabarboni

@f4llingfairy

[sukumen]

CONGRATS ON 2.5k!!!!!! so so deserved!! also i don’t think i ever told u this but you were my first ever mutual on here and i just 💞💕💞💕 if it’s still open can i request bakugou + exes to lovers?

HOORAY FOR 2.5K --- AU/TROPE FICLETS: bakugou x exes to lovers.

notes: things we already knew about me: i overwrite. WOW! this got so long, but i had so much freaking fun with it, i can’t even tell you. it’s my first time writing bakugou and i hope i did him justice, especially with this trope that i love. thank you so so much for the support and love victoria - it’s an honor to have been your first mutual!!!! i hope you enjoy this~

summary: it was an odd match from the start, you and katsuki --- at least that’s what you tell him when you walk away after a year and a half. as you leave, you remind yourself of the probability your quirk had read the night of your first date - 73% chance of breaking up. not certain, sure, but high enough to help you through missing him: this was always going to happen. you tell yourself the same thing a year later when he becomes your protection detail at a support item expo that’s received a major threat: being in the same industry, you were always going to cross paths.

but, over the course of your week together, you start to realize that not everything has a rational explanation, a logical way in or out. not Katsuki, and certainly not the way he makes you feel.

quirk details: reader has a quirk that grants insight into the probability of an outcome occurring. ultimately, she can analyze a situation and determine within seconds how likely a specific outcome is if she was to move forward with all variables unchanged. she uses it primarily to design her support items, but can also use it in personal situations too. notably, she used it to work out how likely it was that she and bakugou were going to break up in a misguided attempt to deal with her feelings.

key limitations: scenarios have to be simple for her quirk to work - she can only determine if something will or won’t happen, not what will happen. the information she has will impact the accuracy of her prediction; this means that using it for personal situations - which often rely on the complicated emotions of other people - can be tricky. but, being emotional too, she doesn’t always remember that….

Snippet (2.7k, slight nsfw at the end):

Your flight ends too quickly for your liking, the walk to the arrivals gate even more so. Katsuki is waiting for you under a Starbucks sign as planned with arms folded over his chest while a second hero - a newcomer to the rankings - makes small talk beside him. 

As you move in their direction, time follows in slow motion, each step rigid as you’re reminded of the day you’d walked the other way and out of his life. You’d been strong willed then and hadn’t turned once to see the look in his eyes as you went. But now, you can’t look anywhere but him, not even when the other hero notices you and waves for your attention.

He hasn’t changed much in the year apart. There’s a littering of scars that you’d noticed on the news and are seeing for the first time in person; but otherwise, Katsuki is the same man you’d always known, imposing but in a way that’s nearly comforting after his years in the public eye.

He seems to be watching you right back, but where your gaze is full of scrutiny, his is practically empty. Looking right through you as you draw near, which doesn’t change even when you still in front of them.

“Hi,” you squeak out, giving an awkward half-bow that you hope neither of them read too much into. The person beside Katsuki - hero name Phantom - introduces themselves right back, their bow deeper before they return to their rambling. They’re too caught up to note the way you and Katsuki don’t share names with each other and, with the moment lost, have gone to avoiding each other’s eyes altogether.  

The tension lasts until the other support item maker - a man you recognize from the flight - emerges from baggage claim. The sight of him shifts the tides and you all start to gather your things for the hotel. Katsuki still hasn’t said a word to you, though if the others have noticed, it doesn’t show. You, of course, have and even as you trail behind him and Phantom to make small talk with the other designer, your eyes linger over his broad back.

Somehow, you’d expected more...anger when he saw you next. 

Of course, this calm is pleasant, especially when you’re in public. But, there’s something about it that’s disappointing as well. Leaves you with an emptiness in your gut that you push past with animated conversation with your new companion.

[ … ] 

“Who was she?” Your eyes screw shut before the words even make it out. How embarrassing --- all that talk to yourself about letting it go and you fold not even three steps into your shared suite. It’s none of your business who she is -- it’s none of your business what he does. But, your heart twists every time you think about the two of them in the back of the welcoming party. You’ve never seen him like that - at least not from an outsider’s lens - leaning into another person so closely and the curiosity comes tumbling out of you before you can stop it.

Katsuki is silent for a long while; long enough that you almost think he hadn’t heard you. But, the stiffness in his shoulders tells you aren’t so lucky and after a moment of you watching him untie his shoes, he finally turns to look at you. The glance is brief, but poignant, before his focus returns to himself --- this time, his tie. “I don’t think you’re in any place to be asking me that,” he grunts, tugging at the fabric until it loosens.

Embarrassment sears your throat, a sting you feel behind the eyes as you turn them towards the floor. It’s bad enough that you’d given into the urge to ask, but Katsuki being so straightforward is mortifying. He’s right, of course, but what makes it worse is that he’s not even trying to belittle you with that answer. He means it as simply and plainly as he’s said it: you’re in no position to ask him to tell you something like that.

Self-indulgence from you is rare and you find it’s for this very reason. When you step out of the safety of your logic, your equations, your reasoning, you always manage to trip yourself up. Even now, you want to push, misplaced jealousy gnashing its teeth at the back of your mind. But, his response has sobered you  and you lock it and your curiosity up tight with a stiff apology and a goodnight.

Katsuki doesn’t look up again until your door closes behind you.

[ … ] 

When the chaos has gone, and dust settled, a gang of thirty-something villains is in handcuffs and you’re banged up; ankle throbbing, but very much alive. You haven’t seen Katsuki since he’d stashed you away with the others with a promise to come back, but you’ve heard enough steady explosions to think he must be okay. 

Still, you want proof. When the panic room door opens with a creak, his face isn’t the first you see, but it’s all you’re thinking about. Him, and getting back to him. You want to say it’s the last of your adrenaline, but even you know better. Know adrenaline from longing well, even with your limited experience and you let yourself admit something you’ve hidden for twelve months.

You miss him. 

And even with the lengthy process that usually follows a villain attack, this will likely be the last full day you’ll have with him for the rest of your life.

The realization makes the panic room shrink to a quarter of the size, pain punching air out of your lungs so fast your vision swims. You need to go, you tell yourself, Katsuki’s promise lost in the static of your upset -- you can’t be here right now.

Your ankle smarts when you start putting real pressure on it, but the pain isn’t enough to stop you from pushing to the front of the line to leave.  With each step past someone else, you hear sneers and you think you apologize, but when you’re so cotton-mouthed, you can’t really be sure.

Either way, it doesn’t slow you. The madness makes it easy to peel away from the crowd and though it takes you some time, you don’t stop until you’ve made it outside where you can breathe. For everything that’s happened in the last forty-five minutes, the island’s relatively unaffected, air as cool and breezy as every other night that week. The only real sign of the attack where you are are sirens and voices rising from the other side of the expo center - where you imagine Katsuki to be. 

The thought - that he’s so close - should be comforting, but your despair does good work to keep it bittersweet; to remind you that it won’t be for much longer. It has to be selfish to be so upset when this had all been your choice to begin with; but for the first time since the breakup, you don’t try to explain away what you’re feeling. To dissect and rationalize so you can avoid it altogether. 

For the first time since the breakup, you let it all in.

[ … ]

It takes Katsuki fifteen minutes to find you. Each one finds him more agitated than the last as he works himself up, searching every space by the now empty panic room to figure out where you’d gone. 

At first, he’d assumed the best - that you’d been ushered with the rest of the group to the lobby waiting with police and paramedics. But, a quick skim of the crowd came up empty for your familiar face and panic set in not long after. 

An admittedly tense conversation with the officer that had unsealed the room revealed that one civilian - a woman with a noticeable limp - had broken away from the group just as the doors opened. It’d done well to calm him, knowing someone had seen you after the fighting was over, but he’s hardly settled, if the way he stomps through the floor is anything to go by. “She never fucking listens,” he growls to no one in particular, eyes narrowed in razor sharp focus. 

He’s worked up, above all, by his worry. But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t vaguely wounded by the fact you hadn’t let him come back like promised. It draws him back, despite his best efforts, to the day you left --- the day you told him in no uncertain terms that you’d always expected one of you to leave, what with that know-it-all quirk of yours.

He’d felt then as he does now: utterly untrusted. Like he’s behind without even knowing there’s a race --- like he’s lost without any hope to catch up. He doesn’t like it, feeling that way again, and it gets him so unnerved that he starts to revert to old habits. Shoulders bowed, hands stuffed into his pockets, and, notably, taking a foot to every door that could stand between him and wherever the hell you’ve disappeared to. 

When he finds you, finally, behind the fourth, it’s with a kick so firm it turns your sob into a strangled squeak. 

[ ... ] 

“I thought I told you to stay put---” There’s venom in Katsuki’s voice, but a sort you know well. Worried more than enraged, even if his expressive face doesn’t show it. You move to answer, but he steps in before you can, eyes locked eerily on your face. “...Why the hell are you crying?” You reach up for your wet cheeks, cursing internally; you’d hoped to be well through this before you faced him again so the question catches you off guard. Long enough that Katsuki can close the distance and kneel at your feet, pulling your fingers away from your face so he can inspect it. “You gonna say something or what? Did someone hurt you?” 

You can tell he’s biting his tongue, tempering his rage until he’s sure there’s something to rage about. But even that muted anger can be dangerous and you’re quick to shake your head, hands coming up again to wipe your face. “No! No, it’s...just my ankle. From before, when we were running.”

Relief spreads in Katsuki’s face hearing that, like he’s grateful that that’s all it is. But, his frown stays put, deepening some when he reaches down for your ankle and watches your expression sour from the touch. “Hm. Doesn’t seem broken or anything.” He turns thoughtfully towards the building behind him, stilling at the sounds rising from the busy lobby. You try to glean purpose from his face, but have to wait until he speaks up again to work out what he’s doing. “‘S gonna take ages for them to see you right now. I can wrap your ankle up at the hotel and take you in for a check up before tomorrow’s flight.” 

You nod wordlessly, grateful for the chance to avoid anyone else for the night.

[ … ]

The quiet in your suite as Katsuki carries you in is a blessing.

You hadn’t realized how badly overwhelmed you were until you’d been alone on the balcony, so even just a few minutes going through the expo center was too much. Katsuki had picked up on it and hesitated very little in hoisting you up so you could move quickly through the crowd and rubble.

You’d insisted he didn’t need to do it at all, let alone again in the hotel; but just one glance at you down the slope of his nose had silenced you.

The first thing he does when the door shuts behind you is set you down on the couch, warning you to stay still with a look alone. When you’re settled, he disappears into his room before emerging with an impressively stocked first aid kit. And for the second time that night, he’s on his knees for you, taking your swollen ankle in hand to inspect it more closely. 

With so much happening earlier, his touch on the balcony was easy to drown out. Now, there’s nowhere to focus but him and the press from his palm as it cups your bare skin. He runs a thumb over scratches you hadn’t noticed, the way he traces the lines almost pensive, before his attention turns to the kit beside him. 

You, all the while, are stock still, frozen from the heat of his touch. It’s nothing compared to his mouth or the weight of his full body, but after so many months apart, it bowls you over all the same.

You don’t notice you’re crying again until he says something.

“You’re not crying over the ankle,” he says simply, though his touch softens just in case as he brings it into his lap with some bandage wrap.

You don’t know what it is, but something in the way he asks compels your honesty and you nod, feeling pathetic as you sniffle and look down at your hands.

“You gonna tell me what’s really going on then?”

You swallow thickly, words already threatening to bubble up like they had the night of the welcoming party. “I...I don’t think I can.” Or should, rather - you don’t need to use your quirk to know that nothing good could come out of this.

But, Katsuki is firm, shaking his head as he starts to wind the first layer of bandage carefully around your ankle. “Well, I’m sayin’ you can. So, don’t go crying by yourself for some dumb reason like that. If you don’t want to, you don’t want to. But if you do, you can.” 

He says it like it’s simple. Like it’s a given. And beside your better judgment, you lean into that open assuredness. You’d always loved it about him, after all --- the way he so firmly believes that nothing could stop him - or anyone - if he didn’t let it. For some people, it was self-importance, but nights holding him after good and bad days had taught you otherwise -- it was bravery.

Bakugou Katsuki was the bravest man you’d ever known. A blaze that shone so bright on its own that you felt out of place beside him -- like you couldn’t give him what he needed --  and decided for you both that that meant you didn’t have a chance. 

But, in the quiet of your suite, with Katsuki sitting comfortably at your feet, you decide that maybe he’s rubbed off on you some. That maybe, in your time alone, you’ve become a lot braver than you realized.

So, you suck in a deep breath, look him square in the eye, and tell him the truth.

“I miss you, Katsuki.”

[ … ]

He holds your hands to the mattress so tight they hurt, but the ache is welcome. You know him well, even now, and can read between the lines of your intertwined fingers. 

He’d missed you too.

All these days of looking through you, past you had been intentional to protect himself, but here, now, he’s completely laid bare. Mouth kiss swollen and eyes lined with tears he’ll wave off later, Katsuki is spilling out every ounce of love he’d held back the day you told him you’d always planned to leave.

You meet him halfway with an arch off the bed to chase his kisses and tell him that you love him --- and you’re sorry --- between each one.

The weight of his body is as precious as you remember and the heat of your tangled limbs lulls you into a daze that pulls your eyes shut.

Katsuki doesn’t notice at first as he’s dragging his mouth over your bare neck, but when he does, he’s quickly displeased. “Look at me,” he hisses, fingers tightening between yours. Your eyes open heavily and it takes you a moment to find his gaze in the darkness. But, once you’re back, he presses his forehead to yours and slowly, carefully presses forward until his cock’s stretched you to the hilt.

The fill feels like coming home. 

[rosy-cheekx]

Heard you were looking for prompts :) 1 of 2 - From favorite tropes: Blind date set up by mutual friends! And maybe combined with "I'm speechless you're so beautiful" from the fluff & kisses (and other stuff) prompts. Go wild with it!

This will go to AO3 soon, but it was a lot of fun to write and a nice distraction from any hypothetical realities the TMA fandom may be experiencing. 

Double-Blind: 5K

Martin smelled like espresso. He wrinkled his nose and dusted his hands on his apron uselessly, as if doing so would rid himself of the months of coffee, cinnamon, and hazelnut baked into his skin.  It wasn’t all that bad, he supposed, except what was the point in using cologne if it was going to be immediately overpowered?

The bell above the door jingled and Martin jumped, pulled from his thoughts on cologne and what he would like to smell like, given the opportunity. Sandalwood, maybe? Tobacco and vanilla? The musky-sweet smells are nice, they have a nice mix of feminine and masculine to them, almost—

“Ahem.” An exaggerated clearing of the throat, once again whisking him from his distractions. Martin locked eyes on the woman across the counter from him, grinning mischievously. “Welcome back to Earth, Martin.”

“Oh! Oh. It’s just you. Hi, Georgie.” Georgie Barker, a regular customer, moderately well-known podcast host, and most importantly, one of Martin’s favorite people to see at the tiny coffee shop he spent more time in than his own flat.

“Just me? Excuse me.” Georgie pouted and crossed her arms, coily hair bouncing around her face as she shook her head. “I’ll have you know you should be grateful to see me this fine afternoon, Martin Koffee Blackwood!”

Martin grinned and dropped the act. “I always am, Georgie. But I told you, there’s not a—”

“Like I said, you should be happy to see me.” Georgie barreled on. “I have good news.” She cocked her head and pondered the chalk-covered board behind the counter. “Two chai lattes, please. And make one of them extra spicy?”

Martin rang up the order and passed two cups down to Rosie, all the while checking the door surreptitiously, ensuring a little chat wouldn’t hold anyone up. “Okay? Spill.”

Georgie’s phone was in her hand, and she waved it at Martin like it contained the secrets of the universe. “D’you remember my roommate, Melanie?”

Martin nodded, pursing his lips. “Vaguely. I thought you guys were dating.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for her to elaborate.

Georgie waved a hand dismissively, rolling her eyes. “Not the point. Anyways, she has a friend of a friend-“ Georgie frowned for a moment, “…of a friend who is looking to get back into dating. Mel says he’s short and nerdy and prickly until you get to know him. Apparently a real pain to work with according to the friend.” Georgie smirked and pulled a sticky note from her back pocket. “Thought maybe you’d want his number.”

Martin grimaced at the blue piece of paper as she smoothed it to the counter with a firm motion. “Wow, George. Really selling it.” It was his fault; they had bonded over being queer back in July when Martin had worn his gay and trans pride buttons and Georgie was proudly sporting her own pansexual patch firmly affixed to her laptop case. One lunch break discussing quirky exes later, their friendship had been sealed. Mentioning offhandedly that he was on dating apps and hating every minute of it seemed to have rooted itself in Georgie’s mind and had grown like weeds until she had taken it upon herself to become his personal wing woman.

“Do you even know his name?” Martin asked, regarding the string of numbers on the piece of paper in front of him.

Georgie blushed, shrugging apologetically. “Friend of a friend of a friend. Sorry mate. Melanie said he likes cats, documentaries, and-” she made air quotes with her fingers, “-being uptight.”

“Wow.” Martin chuckled in disbelief. “Really selling it here.”

Rosie sidled by Martin and set down Georgie’s lattes, who shrugged and picked them up after dropping a few coins in the tip jar. “You have his number. Just think about it, Blackwood. Melanie’s friend doesn’t spread the word about someone unless they’re something special.” She blew a kiss (clumsily, considering the cups requiring the attention of each of her hands) and made her way to the door.

“I just want you to be happy!” She called out as the January winds pulled her out the door and into the grey afternoon.

Martin chewed on his lip as he considered. January was always a tough month for him, and he had been feeling a little lonely recently. He really didn’t see anyone besides his coworkers, customers, and his mother. As much as he enjoyed his job, he wouldn’t call anyone there a romantic interest. He folded the sticky note and stuck it in his pocket as his next customer approached the counter. He did like cats, after all. Maybe that would be a good starting conversation.

--

Jonathan Sims groaned and shifted the stack of books in his hand as he inspected the knee-high table that was buried amongst the fiction books. He hated working the children’s section of the library. Although no food or drink was allowed, there always seemed to be crumbs everywhere. He was starting to wonder if children just manifested them. He made a mental note to come back with disinfectant wipes after putting the stack of child-suitable biographies away and turned, nearly walking straight into the chest of one Timothy Stoker.

“A-ah!” Jon jumped instinctively backward, clutching the books closer to his chest in an attempt to keep from dropping them. “Tim! Good lord, there’s really no need to be sneaking up on me like that.”

Tim grinned wryly and shrugged, taking half of the books from Jon’s arms. “Sorry boss, thought you heard me.” He gestured for Jon to lead the way through the half-sized bookshelves; an unnecessary act seeing as Tim worked the children’s library much more frequently than Jon did.

“I’m not your-” Jon sighed, deciding this wasn’t the hill he wanted to die on today. He made his way through the shelves, sliding books into their correct placements with practiced hands. “Do you need something?”

“Actually,” Tim checked a Dewey code and slid a book into a shelf a few rows down. “I don’t. But you do.”

Jon stared blankly, uncomprehending. Tim chuckled and gestured with a cock of his head towards the research section. “Melanie said she has a friend who has a friend she wants to set up on a date. And while normally, I’d jump at the chance-” he waved his left hand, the silver ring inset with tiny diamonds flashing in the fluorescents, “I’ve been wifed up and I don’t think my dear Sash would appreciate my going on a blind date with a stranger.”

Jon frowned, setting his stack of books down and eyeing Tim. “What, so I have to?”

Tim shook his head, a patient smile on his face. “No, no one is forcing you. I just think—well. It’s been a while since your last relationship and you’ve been a little…testy, recently.” The look on Tim’s face dared Jon to contradict. “Melanie says he’s apparently a really good guy, very kind and sweet and patient. I think his name is Melvin? I kinda tuned out after she wrote down the number she got from her friend.”

Jon scoffed, pushing his glasses up his face as if that would help him comprehend the absolute ridiculousness of what Tim was saying. “Y-You want me to go on a date with this guy, Melvin? Because I’ve been…grumpy? That doesn’t seem very kind to this mysterious date.”

Tim pursed his lips. “I just think you could benefit from seeing someone who doesn’t work here. I mean, we love you Jon, but god, you need to get a social life. I’m practically begging you.” Tim’s purse elongated into a pout, eyes going big and starry. Jon inwardly groaned. Tim was his oldest friend here at the library and he really never learned how to resist that face. Maybe he should ask Sasha.

“One date,” Jon promised. “I’ll do one date. And then you never set me up again.”

Tim grabbed the rest of the books Jon had set down and added them to his stack before whisking himself away down the aisles. “If we’re lucky, I’ll never have to!” He called down the aisles, grinning madly. Jon sighed and grabbed a small pink sticky note that had been stuck to the countertop, running his eyes over the numbers before slipping it into his pocket. He’ll call later.

--

Martin stared resolutely at the numbers on the blue sticky note, running his thumb over the curled edge of the paper, slightly stained from some sort of milk during the shift. Even his apron pockets weren’t foolproof. The underground was busy and he was jammed between an older woman who smelled weirdly like salmon and a man who seemed utterly too well-dressed to be on the tube. Elbows crammed into his side to keep from nudging anyone, he pulled out his phone and stared at the messaging app for what felt like several minutes. He typed the numbers into the message bar and watched his cursor blip in the body of the message.

Hey whats up?

No, that would be so weird.

Hiya, this is martin!

Georgie never said the man’s name, would this mysterious date know his?

Hey I think the alphabet is missing I and U together.

Gross. Just gross. Martin grimaced inwardly and chewed on his lip, thinking carefully before typing.

Hi! My name is martin. my friend gave me your number, hope thats okay. she said you were really nice and recommended we try a blind date. if this is too weird, I get ignoring it. but if youre game, I am! :)

As he finished typing, he heard the familiar robotic voice of the tube announcing his stop. Quickly, Martin shoved the phone in his pocket and carefully forced his way through the crowd and onto the platform, mind cast to what he had accessible for dinner.

----

It took Jon a few days, until Saturday, to remember to call the phone number they had been given. They could text, they supposed, but they always appreciated hearing someone’s intonation a little better. Especially a stranger, ugh, they shuddered at the idea of not being able to decipher the tone of this Melvin. It was half-past 11 when they decided to call, hoping this would be late enough in the morning to not wake him up.

The phone rang momentarily before a surprisingly feminine voice answered the phone. “Hello. This is Rosie. You’ve reached Swirl Café and Bakery.”

Well shit. This was not what Jon expected. They stumbled over their rehearsed speech, trying to scramble words together in a way that made sense. “Uh-sorry, I must have the wrong number. I-I was trying to speak to Melvin?”

“Mmm, sorry. No Melvin works here. We have a Martin, but he’s off the clock. Would you like to speak to our manager?” Rosie’s voice was clipped and courteous, but Jon could hear the bustle of voices in the background. It must be their weekend rush.

“Ah-uh, no, no thank you.” Jon shook their head into the phone, before remembering that did not translate aurally. “It’s alright. Thank you anyways.”

“Sorry, mate. Thanks for calling!” The dial tone droned on for a moment before Jon hung up, sighing and pressing the heels of their hands into their eyes. That was a waste. Melanie must have been playing them; Jon knew they generally didn’t get along, but they didn’t realize she would stoop so low. Honestly, shame on themself for getting excited about a date.

Later that evening, Jon was cooking and listening to music through the speaker that balanced precariously on a shelf next to their stove. The music was low, with a variety of orchestral instruments and sultry, smooth voices. Jon’s eyes were half closed as they stirred the curry in the pan in front of them, letting the music and heat of the kitchen entangle them in a sleepy feeling relaxing their whole body. As the cello in the song dipped low and resonant, Jon stood still, letting the music sweep them away—

They jumped as the ringer alerted them through the speaker that they had received a text, glaringly electronic compared to the rich notes of cello and viola that had been so rudely interrupted. Sleepy feeling gone as adrenaline washed through their body, Jon sighed and retrieved their phone, checking for the message.

An unknown number flicked across the screen:

Hi! my name is martin. my friend gave me your number, hope thats okay. she said you were really nice and recommended we try a blind date. if this is too weird, i get ignoring it. but if youre game, I am! :)

i meant to send this a few days ago but I never hit send. sorry ab that! rosie said someone called the café asking ab me and i assumed that was you bc i wasnt expecting anyone else and no one involved in the blind date thing ever asked for my mobile number.

if it wasn’t you, oops! either way it reminded me that i had never texted you. :)

Jon squinted at the screen as they read the messages a few times over. That was…a lot of words. So his name was Martin. It was certainly nicer than Melvin. Jon agonized over their words as they typed out a response.

Hello Martin. That was me who called the café…I hope it didn’t cause problems for you. Blind dates aren’t usually my thing, but my coworkers think I need to get out more. I’d be happy to meet you for dinner or coffee. Even if we don’t get along, we can say we’ve done it.

Unless, of course, you’re rather sick of coffee. I prefer tea anyways.

…not “done it” done it. Just. Had the blind date.

Jon winced at their follow up texts. God, that was embarrassing. Martin probably didn’t even take it that way until they bothered to clarify. They shook their head, warding away the growing anxiety in their chest and tucked their phone in their pocket as they turned their attention back to the simmering curry. Jon had embarrassed themselves enough for one night.

----

Martin chuckled at the texts that came through; one slow and the two follow-ups rapid. He could feel the awkwardness through the messages, desperately trying to give a good impression. He chuckled to himself as he set down his dinner plate.

dinner sounds perfect. but same about the tea! and about the coworkers tbh, my friends think im making friends with the espresso machine. which, i am, but only bc its good company haha.

btw i never got your name?

Martin’s phone was silent the rest of the night, as he plodded his way through a mediocre dinner and shower before settling into his armchair, desperate to work on his poetry. Words came slowly to him recently, thoughts about the world and darkness and the intersection of fall and winter. He really should up and move to somewhere warmer, he thought to himself, before laughing the notion away aloud. Yeah, right. He rolled his eyes and tried to focus on the poetry prompts book he had found at the charity shop. “Use noncolor words to describe a color.” Great. Martin settled back and tried to focus, but kept finding himself checking his phone impulsively, the foamed latte art he’d photographed, one of a cat he was particularly proud of, stared back at him judgmentally.

As he drew his evening to a close, Martin almost missed the buzz of his phone, now plugged in by his bed, as he brushed his teeth.

Congrats on the espresso machine. And my name is Jon. Anywhere you want to go for dinner?

________________________________________________________________

Jon hesitated, thumb hovering over the icon that would open a video chat with Tim. He didn’t want to come off nervous, but… he was.

Texting had been going well. Martin was good at keeping the conversation going and genuinely seemed to enjoy the long texts Jon had sent regarding his irritations with the research he was conducting as a part of his master’s in literature, asking him questions about details Jon had added for context. Martin was easy to talk to, too, he always seemed to have an opinion on subjects but always ones Jon was happy to hear, even if he was objectively wrong about spiders and oolong tea. Martin had sent an awkward text, letting Jon know he was trans and that if that was a dealbreaker he should tell him now, one Jon had blushed over and responded that he was nonbinary himself, and that it certainly wasn’t. The “okay fantastic! :))) remind me of your pronouns? he/him for me.” that followed it up had made Jon’s heart sing.

They had agreed to meet at an Italian place, equidistant between their flats and not too fancy. Martin had commented about getting ice cream after, but Jon wasn’t sure if he was joking or not, since it had also been a jab about Jon’s preference for rum raisin. Thus, he was staring at his wardrobe, paralyzed with indecision. Tim had offered to help, which Jon had initially rejected since he’s “not a child Tim, I’ve dated before. And I know how to dress myself.” But lord if he wasn’t wishing for someone to lay out his clothes and tell him to behave. He grimaced and jabbed the video chat button, bracing for the onslaught of teasing to come.

----

Martin adjusted his collar for what must have been the twelfth time, sucking on his lip as he waited at the reserved table. He hadn’t been there long, no more than five minutes, but his anxiety had been building up all day and a part of him was absolutely certain Jon wasn’t going to come. Neither of them knew what the other looked like; what if Jon saw him and had dipped out immediately? He was wearing mint green, as he had promised, so Jon would recognize him, and brought a bouquet of daisies, mostly because it felt weird not to bring anything, but he didn’t want to be too romantic. Not roses or anything. Besides, Jon said he liked daisies, said they reminded him of an old friend. Martin hoped it wasn’t too weird. He brushed his auburn curls out of the way of his eyes, part of him regretting not having gotten a haircut first, but he tucked those thoughts aside as he surveyed the restaurant from his vantage point.

He blinked in confusion as he watched long curls make their way towards him. Dark black hair, streaked with white, half bunned up in the back and rest left to hang loose, skimming purple-covered elbows. Martin wasn’t sure if they were wearing flowy grey pants or a skirt, but either way, the faint black pattern to them was stunning and Martin couldn’t help but watch the swoosh of the hemlines. As the person got closer, Martin realized they were tiny, stylized eyes.

“Ah-you’re Martin, right?” It took Martin a second to realize this absolutely beautiful person was talking to him.

“hmm—Oh! Yes! You must be Jon.” Martin stood, unsure whether he should shake Jon’s hand or hug him or? But Jon solved the problem himself by sitting, and so Martin did as well. “It’s nice to finally meet you…in person, that is,” he added, grinning shyly. “You look lovely, by the way.”

Jon blushed. “Ah, thank you. Y-You too. O-or handsome, whichever you prefer.” He sipped his water and fidgeted with his hands, eyes flicking around the room nervously before coming around to rest on Martin.

Martin shrugged. “A compliment is a compliment, they all work. Speaking of—what pronouns are you feeling today? I remember you saying it varies.”

Jon shook his head slightly. “I’m not going to pitch a fit either way, but ‘he’ is just fine.” It was nice to be asked. The library respected his pronouns, of course, but something about Martin going out of his way to make sure he was on the same page was… It made Jon’s heart thud deep in his chest.

They made small talk about the travel, the weather, Italian food preferences until the waiter came and relieved the tension. Martin felt his shoulders relax after they both ordered; it felt more real somehow.

“So,” Martin asked, sipping his water demurely, a smile tinged on his lips. “Melvin, huh?”

Jon choked on air for a moment. His mouth gaped open and shut again and Martin couldn’t help the grin overtook him. Jon’s embarrassment was sweet; his cheeks flushed and he bowed his head slightly. It was a lovely look on him. “For the record, that’s what I was told by my coworker, Tim.” Jon made air quotes with his fingers. “‘Melvin or something.’ Who was I to question your name?”

“Right, and I’m glad you respect names ‘n’ all. But Melvin?” Martin chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “I’m not the decimal system guy.”

“Nn-mmm,” Jon shook his head, nose wrinkled in a way Martin found particularly cute. “That’s Melville. Melville Dewey.” Jon emphasized, back straightening. “Distinctly different. I’m a librarian, actually.”

“Oh!” Martin blinked. “That makes sense. You work with Melanie, then, I assume?”

Jon grimaced again. “Unfortunately.”

“She’s not that bad!” Martin insisted. “I’ve met her once or twice and she’s been very polite.”

Jon rolled his eyes. “For someone who’s getting a degree in parapsychology, she seems very judgmental.”

“Oh? And what are you studying again?”

“English Lit-hey!”

Martin grinned behind his glass of water. “Just saying, I haven’t met an English Lit student who wasn’t obscenely pretentious.”

Jon faltered for a second and slumped his shoulders in defeat, though his voice still seemed to carry humor, albeit dry. “Unfortunately, I am no exception.”

“Well, I didn’t say I didn’t like it.”

Dinner arrived smoothly, shrimp scampi for Jon and eggplant parmesan for Martin. They ate slowly, chatting more about Jon’s graduate degree, Martin’s affinity for fiction and poetry, and their shared interest in tea.

“So, are you vegetarian?” Jon gestured to the eggplant on Martin’s plate. Martin wobbled his head slightly, not quite a negatory shake of the head.

“It’s complicated. My mother has—had—a sensitive stomach so we didn’t eat meat growing up. I think that turned me off the taste. And there’s something about the texture,” he shuddered. “Weirds me out.”

Jon’s eyes were sharp, boring holes into Martin’s in a way he should have found alarming, but instead found soothing. “Mine, too.” His tone—softer, almost reverent, clued Martin in: he wasn’t talking about being vegetarian.

Martin nodded, and gently placed a hand on Jon’s, the one that hovered near his drinking glass. “I’m sorry.”

They were quiet for a moment, Jon’s hand was small and warm under his, and Martin could feel a thin silver bracelet clinging to his wrist. Martin was amazed by how perfectly his fingers rested over Jon’s, how nice it must feel to hold hands with him on a walk or side by side against the world. Jon cleared his throat suddenly and reached for his glass, gulping down water while staring steadfastly at his plate.

Martin felt his own blush rise through his cheeks and pushed a stray noodle around his plate. “So, here’s a question,” he began, eager to clear the tension. “You said earlier your friend Tim gave you the number to Swirl, right? I don’t know a Tim. So how did he know me?”

Jon frowned, cocking his head. “Technically, I got the number from Tim but that was via Melanie. She said her roommate was friends with…well, friends with you.”

“Mmhmm, that makes sense. I know Georgie from the coffee shop.” He was about to continue when he saw absolutely paralyzed look on Jon’s face. “You…you alright?”

Jon was stock still, pausing the forkful of shrimp that was en route to his mouth. “Sorry, Melanie’s roommate is Georgie?”

Martin nodded slowly. “Yeah, Georgie Barker, that podcaster. She gets her an extra-spicy chai latte from Swirl most days and that’s about the most I know of the relationship. Why, you know her?”

Jon put the fork down, shrimp forgotten, and sighed, running his thumbs along the bridge of his nose, pushing his thin-rimmed glasses up to his eyebrows. “Y-yes, she’s kind of…my ex.”

It was Martin’s turn to freeze. “Sorry?”

“Mmm, yeah, we decided we were better as friends. It was back in Oxford. But I don’t exactly see her often much anymore.” Jon winced at his own words, as if he knew how bad they sounded.

Martin sat back in disbelief, chuckling to himself. “Y’know, she said you were a ‘friend of a friend of a friend.’ D’you think she even knew it was you?”

Jon cocked his head in thought. “I guess not. I mean, I think the whole library staff has been gunning for me to relieve some tension. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’ve been looking for a blind date for me for months now.”

Martin grinned, eyes sparkling. “Well, no matter. It was lucky for me.” Lucky again, was Martin, when he was rewarded with Jon’s warm blush.

----

The bill had been a painful affair, with both Jon and Martin vying for the privilege of paying. Martin struck a deal: he’d pay for the dinner, and Jon would pay for ice cream. Jon knew the differences would widely outweigh when it came to cost but he relented, and the self-satisfied smirk that blossomed over Jon’s face was payment enough.

Martin pointed out the ice cream parlor was a few blocks away and, though it was January, they decided to walk. The fresh snow on the ground glinted against the orange street lamps, and Jon laughed under his breath at the way Martin took great care to step on any unusually large clumps of snow, like he had a personal vendetta. When Jon’s chuckle had made it past the scarf he had wound round his neck and mouth, Martin had glanced over, embarrassed.

“I like the sound of it,” he mumbled, suddenly very meek for a man his stature. It was, regretfully, endearing. Martin was tall, but he was big too, and it was obvious underneath the layer of soft cashmere and chub, there was rigid muscle, and beneath that still, a gentle heart. Jon was struck by him, in more ways he had prepared himself for, and it felt second nature to slide his gloved hand into Martin’s and give it a solid squeeze of acknowledgement.

“Do you think it’s too cold to get ice cream?” Jon asked, watching a cloud of breath float by his lips.

Martin shrugged. “Technically? Yes. But who’s going to tell on us?” Jon swung their entwined hands a little. “Unless…you don’t want to?” Martin added, eyes locking on Jon’s before his head followed.

Jon shook his head. “No, I want to. I believe we have a debt to settle and I have a personal score involving rum raisin.” Martin beamed, clearly pleased, and Jon was certain the snow around him melted right off with the warmth of his smile. Jon leant into Martin’s side a little, and they continued in silence until they reached the ice cream parlor, the entrance to which glowed with pink and white LEDs.

Jon smugly ordered a scoop of rum raisin and was delighted to find Martin “didn’t hate it,” though he insisted his mint chip was better. That was genuinely the best Jon could hope for; not even Georgie in all her unusual tastes enjoyed his rum raisin sensibility. “My grandmother loved it when I was a kid,” he explained between bites, stirring the ice cream with his spoon. “It was the only flavor she kept around the house.”

“Not even vanilla?” Martin gasped in mock disbelief. “Any sensible person would say you’ve been tricked into enjoying it.” Jon chuckled and elbowed Martin mildly.

Jon found himself lingering over the bowl, realizing that the end of their dessert meant an end to the date. Martin seemed to be acting similarly, putting his spoon down between bites and taking more and more thoughtful swallows between their bouts of conversation.

“You-you took the tube here, right?” Jon asked, setting his finally-empty bowl off to the side. At Martin’s confirmation, Jon clenched his fist below the table. “Do you want to walk to the station together?”

Martin’s eyes lit up, nodding eagerly. “I had meant to ask, actually! I wanted to make sure you got there safe.” Jon winced at the blush that overtook his cheeks, though it was easy to blame it on the chill of the ice cream and the frigid night.

The walk to the tube was longer and the pair, heavily sated by pasta and dairy, were quiet, making soft comments about the snow or the odd remaining Christmas decorations, hands clasped tightly and shoulders pressing into the other. The fluorescents of the underground shone brightly, normally a beacon calling travelers home in the night, but to Jon it felt like a dreadful curse. He truly hadn’t expected to enjoy his evening with Martin so much, but they had just clicked. It felt like a shame to let it go.

Swiping their cards, Jon and Martin passed through their respective turnstiles and stood at the bisecting tunnels through which the various lines waited to take them home. They faced each other in silence, hands still interlocked, unsure of how to begin.

“If you’d like to,” Jon murmured, eyes shifting focus to Martin’s curls, plastered to his forehead from the snow; his collar, peeking through his coat; the way the shell of his ear seemed to have a nick missing (was it from a childhood accident? Just the way it was grown?). “I’d like to go out again.”

Martin squeezed Jon’s hand, and Jon’s eyes flitted back to Martin’s own; they were grey-blue and reminded Jon of his childhood sea. “Mmhmm, yeah.” Martin rolled his eyes at his own words and tried again. “Yes, Jon, I’d love that.” Martin moved to hug Jon, a gesture Jon eagerly accepted, relishing the warm arms encircling him and the feel of Martin’s chin resting on the crown of his head. As they pulled away, Martin’s eyes flitted across Jon’s face and the hand around his back moved, cautiously, to rest on the side of Jon’s neck.

“I…I don’t want to presume,” Martin said quietly, and Jon was distinctly aware of how empty, how big, the station was. “Is it okay if I kiss your cheek?”

Jon blinked rapidly, nodding wordlessly, before clearing his throat. “Ah, um, yes. Please.”

Martin’s smile was soft as he pressed his lips to the apex of Jon’s cheekbone, almost into his hairline. Jon was sure the blush that rose across his face this time certainly couldn’t be explained away by the snow, but he honestly wasn’t really sure he cared.

[wizkiddx]

unusable faces

i have exams hence why i needed to write something exceptionally cringe :)

PSA: this is completely inspired from one of my fave writers own blurb @blissfulparker​ --> completely recommend u go read hers its much better than anything i could ever write!!!! (and just her whole account) = link

Summary: pure exhaustion and mutual pining, Tom Holland x actress!reader

^(just thought this was cute, doesn't really fit aha but full credit to op!!)

A scheduling nightmare would be putting it lightly. Perhaps almost unavoidable but that didn’t make it any less of a hellish form a torture. Harry had very helpfully said it actually was a form of torture, that is sleep deprivation. Y/n loved her job - it was all she’d ever really wanted - yet that thought was quickly becoming not enough to get her through the day. Not when it felt like an interrogation tactic used by the CIA. 

To give a quick timeline of the past few days may give a little context:

Thursday - filming the fight scene all day plus an evening-turned-half-the-night-shoot due to some technically difficulties delaying the process.

Friday - flying to New York while doing read throughs of scenes for the next few days; followed immediately by getting glammed and filming the tonight show with Fallon; then a dash across town to the late late show with James Corden; then straight back on a flight to Atlanta that landed at stupid o’clock in the morning

Saturday - a full day of shooting in a mock grand central station set

The press trip to NY had been unplanned… to say the least. But the star of their studios other new release had taken ill - meaning they had slots booked on some of the biggest talk shows in America that would just be abandoned (angering the shows bookers too). It was a waste of perfectly good promo time and since the studio had their two other stars together doing a block of reshoots - it wasn’t a conversation. Much more a call demanding the two of them to be on the plane.

Normally this wouldn’t be such an unmanageable ask either, except the reshoot block was really rather time pressured. You see, the promo tour wasn’t far from beginning meaning they really needed the final film in the can. So really it was a bit of a mess. Just to free up that single day the two were in New York the whole schedule had had to be rejigged - in doing so they’d lost a rare day off too. It was just typical.  

The joys of success hey?

Well, that’s at least what Y/n was making herself think whilst her incredibly talented SFX artist was in the process of crafting a deep wound onto her upper arm. The reason why she would be ‘dripping with blood’ whilst at a train station was beyond Y/n to be honest - she hadn’t been allowed to read a lot of the script so even now as filming was drawing to a close, the story arc of the movie she was headlining was still a little ‘fuzzy’.

“So I watched your ‘spill your guts’ thing on YouTube” Ellie giggled whilst reaching over for more prosthetic putty- a technical term apparently

“I’m glad one of us enjoyed the experience” Y/n replied with a sigh, rolling her eyes at the mischievous smirk on her face - no doubt Ellie took great joy out of seeing her suffer through eating a thousand year old egg. Which Y/n swore the taste of was still in her mouth… and it seemed as though it’d never leave. 

“Oh don’t worry darling I did too” Nelli called over from the next chair along, where she was doing Tom’s makeup for the day of shoots. “Between that and the animals on Fallon, you made a hell of a lot of people laugh last night” Tom’s artist was referencing the fact one of Jimmys other guests was a zookeeper, so at the end of the interview he had you and Tom join in trying not to scream at the snakes and spiders.

“You mean laugh at us?” 

“Well of course darling!” Nelli exclaimed back in an overdramatic bronx accent making all three of the women burst out laughing, Ellie’s unceremonious snorts echoing through the trailer only egged them all on more.

Tom in response, who had otherwise been absent from conversation for the majority of the morning, exclaimed a curse and jumped up in his chair. While you and Ellie collected yourself, Nelli apologised to him.

“Oh sorry love, I’m interrupting your snooze with my uncontrollable comedic gift” She spoke sweetly, even if still taking the moment to flaunt to the other women, as she squeezed his shoulder compassionately.

“No no” Tom waved off her apology, attempting to rub his eye before Nelli swatted his arm away - a stern look for the risk of ruining all her hard work she’d put into making his face look half presentable. 

“I’m impressed you can sleep while they poke you with all these er instruments” Y/n added in, having only just realised Tom had been in a light sleep for god knows how long they’d been in that chair. It did seem a bit unlikely, being able to fall asleep as you were dabbed, prodded and brushed. 

“Maybe you should try though Y/n… your purple eye bags are proving a struggle even for me” Ellie quipped back, now it was Y/n’s turn to give the stern look. Tom took the explain though, shutting her off from whatever kindly meant insult she was about to throw back at her friend. 

“No normally never, I just….” He was cut off by an ear splitting yawn, appearing almost powerful enough to crack his jaw - which would be a disaster, for no one should ruin such a beautiful and sharp jaw line. “…uh-sorry. I just think I ended up taking my NyQuil and DayQuil the wrong way round in the madness of yesterday.” Only Tom, the poor kid often seemed to lacking in any form of common sense - even if those closest to him knew just how intellectual and passionate he could be about the right topic. Affectionately, Nelli scalded his idiocy by jokingly swatting his head with a little tut.

“I can’t believe your still standing then! I’m barely alive and I don’t have any sedatives in my system.” It was true, Y/n was at that stage where every part of her body felt ridiculously heavy… eyes included … eyes especially. 

“But I did sleep on the jet back while your stupid self was studying the script!” Tom replied with a pretty inarguable point - at the time he knew her actions were stupid;  when their flight took off at 11 PM he was certain that the most valuable asset to his ability to act in the reshoots today would be sleep - rather than character development. And he’d tried to convince Y/n that briefly, but gave up. She was bloody stubborn when she wanted to be. 

“Stop competing about who has it worse cos I think it’s me and Nell”Ellie announced - making Nelli agree empathically with her coworker, nodding her head as she looked first to Y/n in her chair then back at Tom.

“Yeh because we have to deal with your unusable faces!!”

After much sarcasm thrown back and fourth, the trailer slowly ebbed it’s way back into serenity and peace as both artists focused on their work. Once Nelli was done she excused herself, Tom staying in the chair in favour of studying (more like staring blankly) at the dialogue for this mornings scenes. His pretence didn’t last long though and while Ellie was busy adding the final touches of fake blood to the now almost completely believable gash that she’d crafted on Y/n’s arm - Y/n had her attention focused the opposite way.

At poor little Tom. He looked so childlike, his slightly puffy eyes looked as if they had weights tied to them - they way he was having fight against gravity to flutter his eyes open, before loosing the next second only for the process to repeat as they dragged downwards. The broad muscles of his neck occasionally seemed to occasionally let up a little, letting his head tilt slowly at first until it gathered enough momentum to throw him off balance. The then sudden movement of his head unconsciously pulling itself back in line caused his eyes to bolt open prior to the whole cycle repeating again. All Y/n wanted to do was let him lay down someone, her heart feeling a tug in her chest just seeing him like that. 

Ellie proclaimed her completion of the wound, leaning back to admire her work before looking to get an affirming nod from Y/n. Yet instead, she was too preoccupied gazing at the boy slouched across from them. “Someone seems a little distracted.” Ellie smirked, finally garnering Y/n’s attention, only feeling more and more smug watching a light tint appear on the actors cheeks. 

“I-well-no… we need to go.” Y/n ignored her words as though nothing had happened, instead rushing off the chair to get Tom out the chair and onto the awaiting set. They had places to be.

|||||||||||||||||||||||||||| (bcos im lazy)

Honestly when the director, Ed, called for lunch break, it was pretty apparent to be purely as a compassionate gesture to Y/n and Tom. Both of them had tried so hard this morning to fully commit, even so they’d both been almost completely useless. Y/n kept missing cues whilst all Tom’s actions and lines where slow, dragged out and at times completely prompted from someone behind the cameras. 

So when the lunch break was called there was only one thing on Y/n’s mind and what sandwich was available in the mess tent was not it. Still standing on the set next to her fake holdall bag she looked toward Tom, who was pulling himself up to standing from the train station bench - the pace of his movement making him look more like an old man. 

“You good?” His answer was predictable. 

“I’m so fucking shattered”

Tom swore he’d never heard anything sweeter come out of Y/n’s pink lips than her next statement.

“C’mon I know somewhere we can lie down.”

Without any sort of thought Tom blindly agreed, nodding as he took her outstretched hand in his. The gesture in itself brought a fresh wave of comfort to his aching limbs and as his feet stumbled to catchup with her slight head start he leant the majority of his weight into their connected hands. 

Neither would admit it but they were ‘a thing’… whatever the hell that meant. It was clear as day to everyone and anyone that worked closely to the two but neither of them had ever broached the topic with each other. They’d worked on a few films together over the years; each time they got closer and closer to the point any job without the other simply wasn’t as good. It was scary though, especially for two actors in the prime of their careers. If they weren’t working the same film they’d likely be the opposite side of the world to each other most of the time - quality time together would be few and far between, Really their jobs didn’t suit dating at all, yet it would be perhaps easier if one half of it worked a ‘normal’ job. Something with consistency, a regular structure. A level of dependability that neither Y/n nor Tom could offer to the other. 

So it was terrifying, acknowledging the growth in their magnetic attraction to each other. Both were acutely aware that doing that, confronting their feelings, would most likely signal the beginning of the end. 

Although none of this stoped Y/n from returning the gesture, tilting her shoulder into Tom’s left side as they took slow steps through and then out the set building. She steered the two past the hair and makeup trailer and round into a store and extra equipment trailer. Tom tilted his head as she climbed the stairs whilst beckoning for him to follow - it didn’t seem like the most obvious choice. Rolling her eyes, Y/n explained.

“It’s where all the blankets and coats and kept for the raining scenes plusssss no one will disturb us in here.” Again Tom was not in a position to disagree, eyes drooping as his shoulders sagged to the floor. Right now he’d take anything. 

So he climbed up the stairs and shut the door behind him, just as Y/n flipped the light on. She was right, it was well equipped and with an almost mountainous supply of red blankets that normally the crew and extra would all be wrapped up in after the freezing rain scenes with all the ‘waterfall machines’ as Y/n called them. However it was also um…. It was cosy. “Oh I don’t think I realised how small it was” She chuckled lightly, since now the door was closed her back was pressed up against the far wall of cabinets and still her front was mere millimetres from Tom.

“I…I don’t mind… if-if you don’t?”

“I’m too tired to care” She giggled in response, and Tom , now with her seal of approval, immediately started ransacking the piled shelves for all their worth creating a floor carpeted in the pale red of the blankets, in an attempt to make it more cosy. Joining in, it was almost remarkable how quickly their bodies suddenly agreed to move, with the new promise of rest mere moments away. 

Once the trailer was fully drowned, Tom kicked off his costume shoes and threw his jacket off - it haphazardly landing by the doorway. Y/n copied him, leaving her stood up whilst he had the advantaged of already settling down on the floor, her standing and looking down at him.

The space between the two opposing shelving units was not close spacious enough for two people to lie down whilst keeping a respectable level of personal space. Suddenly feeling a wave of awkwardness, Y/n stayed standing, wringing her hands slightly - whilst fairly certain Tom could hear her heart running at 100 mph. 

“You er… gonna stay there or?” Tom, contrary to popular belief, wasn’t a complete idiot - he could see she was suddenly self conscious. He got it too - they’d never crossed this boundary of choosing to cuddle into each other. It had happened once of twice accidentally over there 2 years of knowing each other. Both of those times it was completely accidental, falling asleep watching a movie with a safe distance of space b between the two, only to find hours later their bodies almost completely intwined. Tom would be lying if he said that his heart didnt skip a beat when he had awoken to Y/n’s soft and gently breath fanning into his neck. He’d loved it, but understood that was unconsciously breaking down part of the wall they’d both been the constructors of.

For fear of getting hurt. 

So now, as Y/n awkwardly bent down and lay on her side, he thought it was imperative to make her feel comfortable. Naturally then, his arm slid round her shoulders and pulled her down toward his chest, releasing a little breath as he felt her relax, her legs slowly wrapping round one of his. 

“This okay?” He murmured, now into the crown of her head as she lay half on her side half on his chest. In reply she nodded into him and Tom couldn’t help but grin- unbeknownst to him but Y/n was doing the exact same thing. 

The peace lasted all of 3 seconds until she groaned again.

“What?” Tom enquired as she wriggled out his hold and stood up. Instead of replying though she just leant over and flicked the one harsh light bulb off making Tom chuckle as she fumbled her way back onto the padded floor in the darkness, earning a few grunts from both as she accidentally kicked Tom’s thighs or banged her head on one of the now empty shelves. Fumbling her way back into a comfortable position, occasionally cursing when she stubbed her toe- or Tom did when she accidentally elbowed him in the ribs. 

“Comfy?” Tom asked a little sarkily as he squeezed her a little more into his side.

“Mhmmmm… I’m gonna sleep for 100 years”

“Yeh me… me too”

And with that they both almost instantly and in complete unison sagged into each other and the blankets - the pent up stress and tension of the past few days ebbing away.

What the pair had neglected to remember was that sleeping for 100 years wasn’t really an option. The whole crew of 50 people, who wanted to restart filming after 45 minutes, had not been told about Y/n’s little hiding place. The pair were so completely safe in their own little cocoon of comfort they were completely oblivious to their teams calling there names more and more frantically. Completely oblivious to the game of hide and seek the situation had descended into, completely oblivious to Harrys natural annoyance as the director asked him for the whereabouts of the two stars - as though Harry was childminder to the pair of them.

It was Nelli who found them first. She’d and Ellie and Tom’s manager had all been recruited by Harry as part of the man hunt. Both girls, having seen first hand the state of the two this morning, were fairly certain they’d both crashed out somewhere. So Nelli, already with a sneaking suspicion, opened the door gently, her figure blocking the majority of the light from seeping through to the dimly lit inside. The sight she was met with had her actually pouting at the cuteness - and yes its a cringey word but also the only one appropriate.

Between bedding down and barely an hour later the two had managed to become impossibly tighter pressed to each other. Y/n’s face was pressed into the crook of Tom’s neck and his arms seemed to have pulled her on-top of him almost completely. Her left leg was hooked under his right, which was then sandwiched by his left too. They both looked so pure and innocent and god did Nelli know they both needed any extra time they could get.

Nelli cared a lot about Tom, she’d been working with him from the beginning, from the child star days to now. She cared about him like her very annoying surrogate son and she wanted to see him looked after. She also so completely wanted the two stars to stop pining after each other. Because frankly it was getting a little frustrating for everyone else. 

So she chose to tactically forget about her discovery, sneaking a photo on the sly before silently pulling the door closed and leaving them to their sleep. 

[sully-999]

Mickey and the Gallaghers Part 2

This might be the lowest point of his life he thinks. Even on the lowest points of his alcoholism and all the shit with college and Helene he was only really fucking up his own life.

But now, shit was different. He had 3 (potentially 4) people that depended on him. He had no job, no stable income, and no potential leads to other opportunities.

They had decided not to sell the house to Shelby and to wait for another bigger offer to come in. The Gallagher house had survived and been their shelter their entire lives. Lip was sure it would continue to be, but now they had less furniture, fewer appliances, and worst of all no fucking hot water.

He was at a loss. Desperation filled every cell of his body. Even if he worked on this stupid delivery job all day he couldn’t front the expenses to repair the pipes or the water heater.

Lip was a hustler. He knew what he could do to come up with the money. Less than legal ways to do it. But after the whole Born Free debacle, he had sworn to Tami that he wouldn’t do anything that could potentially affect them. Regardless, things were still too hot with the police still sniffing around.

He knew Ian and even Carl could lend him some money but he couldn’t find a fiber in his body that made him want to ask them. He was supposed to be the big brother, the protector. How the fuck did it all come to this?

He was so involved in his thoughts that he didn’t hear the footsteps climbing up the porch stairs. With his head on his palms, he only saw the combat boots and thought it was Ian but when he looked up he saw instead his brother-in-law looking at him with an inquisitive face.

“Hey man, what’s up?” “Ian sent me to pick up some shit he left in the room.” “Oh ok” “He’s at fucking Yoga class or some shit” “Wow in true west side fashion”

They stayed in awkward silence for a while. Lip and Mickey had known each other for years. They had done some crazy things when they were younger and normally had a decent relationship. After the fight, things got better but sometimes they still had awkward moments.

“Sooo, I’m going in” “Yeah yeah go ahead”

Mickey knew Lip was going through a hard time. Not only had he shared with Ian all that was pestering him, but Mickey could just see it. Lip’s cocky attitude and know-it-all fuckery were toned down and he was often quieter, observant. The years of the college boy in the Ivy?... What was it?.. Ivory? Ivory Tower were long gone and Lip was back to being full south side trying to make ends meet.

Mickey entered the house and couldn’t find anyone inside. The kitchen was still a mess and it seemed like Lip attempted to work on the pipes while still trying to paint and do touch-ups around the first floor. He picked up the stuff Ian had asked for and since no one was there he made his way back to the door. He heard Lip on the phone trying to get a quote for the repairs so he just waved and kept walking.

As Mickey drove back to the apartment he couldn’t get the image of Lip with his head in his hands sitting on the porch. He was alone since Tami and Fred were still at her dad’s and he looked plain miserable. He remembered the brilliant guy that tutored Ian when he wanted to go to West Point. The one with the bright future when all the other Gallagher siblings seemed screwed for life. The one that acted like a punk but always gave his all for his family.

Family. He shouldn’t give a fuck but Mickey feels restless.  

He knew that if Ian offered him the money he wouldn’t accept it, even miserable Phillip was too fucking proud for that. Ian had told Mickey that he offered his share of the house if it sold and Lip had said no.

As Mickey entered the new apartment he didn’t feel like he could sit down. He walked around, cleaned up, turned the TV on trying to occupy his mind. Instead, he thought about Fred, about Tami, about Liam. His mind took him to think about Yevgeny and all the scams they did to put food on the table at the Milkovich house.

He went back to the bedroom rushing. He entered the walk-in closet and stretched to find a dark blue carton box. He grabbed a piece of paper and wrote down an amount of money and an “I O U” below it. Here he was, again. This time he would tell Ian...eventually.

Last time had been too complicated. There were so many little things that Mickey had almost lost track of where all the money had gone. Liam’s new graphing calculator, Franny’s after-school clubs, Tami’s last bill from the hospital, Carl’s required duty belt, the anniversary party.

He picked up his phone and dialed one of his contacts. “Hey, I have a job for you…”

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

Lip was coming back home from making deliveries and upon opening the door he was faced with 2 guys cleaning up debris from the floor.

“Who the fuck are you?” he said startled. The 2 men looked at Lip and started speaking Spanish explaining something Lip couldn’t understand. Finally, they pointed at the water heater and one of them opened the kitchen faucet. As warm water started coming out a confused expression grew on Lip’s face. The men finished up cleaning and waved goodbye to Lip. He was dumbstruck.

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

Ian and Mickey were making dinner when Ian’s phone rang. Mickey could only hear Ian’s responses to the call but he automatically knew who was calling.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about...They were just randomly inside the house?... I would have told you asshole!... Maybe Debbie?”

As Ian continued his conversation, Mickey kept chopping the beloved tomatoes from the garden.

“That’s awesome though, do you guys need help moving Tami and Fred back in? Ok, let me know what you find out. Bye.”

“Lip says someone came to fix the pipes and reconnected the gas so they finally have hot water.”

“Mhm,” Mickey was trying his hardest to avoid meeting his husband's eyes. He could lie his way from any situation but he couldn’t, for the life of him, lie to Ian.

Ian eyed him suspiciously “Do you know anything about this?”

Mickey ignored him but Ian knew something was up. He kept probing him until he broke.

“You can’t say anything to him Red” “Why?” “Because he would be embarrassed and would try to pay us back. You had offered him money before and he refused but he needed help Ian.” “Why didn’t you tell ME anything then?” “Cause you couldn’t have kept the secret and Lip would have stopped us!”

Ian knew he had a point...“Where did you get the money?” he asked next. “...” “Mickey…” “The honeymoon fund man. I’m sorry I know we promised to talk to one another and have a mutual understanding and all that shit but Ian...family is family” He said harshly. After a moment Ian smiled and kissed him sweetly. “Family is family” he repeated grinning.

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They hosted the next family dinner at the Gallagher house. As the kids played games and Debbie and Ian helped Tami to set the table Lip approached Mickey giving him a beer.

The two men kept looking at the kids and relaxed in comfortable silence. “I’m glad you’re part of our family Mickey”

Mickey nodded without facing him and without saying a word cheered his beer to Lip’s pop. 

He was too.