#of how to get out of this funk and yeah just write

[blackbat05]

Opposites Attract

Congressman Bucky x Library Staff Reader

Plot: You were never really one for politics, but when Congressman James "Bucky" Barnes and an Avenger comes to grace the library for work, he may just prove you wrong...

Genre: PG-13

A/N: Super self-indulgent (yet again). Watched Thunderbolts over the weekend and despite being very partial to the MCU, this movie seriously impressed me! I love my rag-tag team~ Please excuse the subpar writing as I feel like I'm still in a funk.

He absolutely regrets this.

Yeah he should have never agreed to this.

“Congressman Barnes?”

The secertary snaps him out of his anxiety hazed stupor. “Sorry Linda, you were saying?”

“As I was saying, your appearance at the public library has been shifted up to 2pm. There’s a kid’s program and they’re hoping you’ll be able to grace them with your presence.” Linda informs.

“Thank you.” Bucky dismisses the secretary, immediately taking out his darned notes that Gary insisted he had to read.

“New York Public Library recently had their children’s library go under redevelopment…”

***

“Y/N!” Darcy rushes over. The young girl drags a chair to sit beside you as you’re pouring over the story time you planned for the kids coming in for the reading session at 2pm.

“Someone’s awfully cheery after lunch.”

“Congressman James Barnes is coming! To our library!” She hisses with excitement. “Gosh he’s so cute, I hope he gets to interact with the kids because that would just make me explode!”

“Okayyy, someone needs to calm down on the caffeine.” You swivel your chair to face her. “First of all, he’s doing his duty Darcy, second of all aren’t you being too vocal with your fantasies?”

“A girl can dream.” Darcy singsongs. “Good luck!”

You sigh at her enthusiasm that was bordering on naivety. The congressman was probably going to be the same as the rest, they always are. They’ll come and show their faces for photos and leave without truly understanding what they had to be here for.

Though a part of you can’t help but to agree with Darcy. Those good looks are wasted in politics.

The clock read 1.15pm. You should start getting ready for the session.

***

“You seem very engrossed in that packet, sir.”

“I find it tough how we can fund billions for weapons and nuclear warfare but it takes almost six years to refurbish the children’s section of the New York Library.”

“I can’t say anything else apart from my need to agree with you, sir.” Linda crisply responds.

Bucky stays silent, thinking about his own memories as a child in the library. A library was meant to be a safe space, away from the ruckus of life.

The car rolls to a stop and Bucky gets out with two guards trailing behind him.

“What am I? An invalid? I don’t need bodyguards, Linda. This is a Children’s Library. I don’t need them to have more things to be scared of.”

“Apologies sir. I’ll speak with the Director and make other necessary arrangements after the event.”

“Yeah, you do that.”

The trio departs from Bucky who decides to take the chance to explore the library that was as every bit as he remembered it.

He takes a random book and finds a spot that is hidden away from the public eye to do some people watching at the Children’s Library.

Mothers take this chance for a reprieve and catch up with their friends while the little ones try to flip big picture books with much effort. The older children roam around the series section, discussing in excited hushed voices the latest book that they had each read. Bucky’s heart oddly feels satisfied when he sees a little boy nose deep into a Geronimo Stilton book. Ah, a timeless classic for kids.

“Congressman Barnes?”

Bucky turns around, slightly apologetic that he had been people watching for too long.

“I’m the children’s librarian- well, technically support staff. I’m working towards becoming a librarian but of course you didn’t need to know that.” You inwardly cursed at yourself. He’s definitely going to think you’re bonkers.

Then, he chuckled.

Actually chuckled.

“I’ll be sitting in your session later? I promise not to stare as much.”

Before you can get a good word in, the charming congressman strolls away, leaving you in a mess.

***

"Good afternoon children!" You put on your best enthusiastic voice, as you greet the crowd.

"Good afternoon Ms Y/N!"

Even after doing this for too many times to count, being in front of children who were waiting to be impressed still gave you the jitters. Nevertheless, you were proud to say that you had build rapport with them steadily over the past six months.

"So, we've been reading books about values and I thought we could continue our discussion with a short but humorous story that I know will promise a good laugh." You show the book, eliciting a couple of giggles from the children.

“Today’s story is by Jon Klassen and it’s titled - I want my hat back…”

***

By the end of the story, the children were throughly amused at the simple but larger than life visuals that told a clear message. You were also glad that all that practice of different animal voices came in handy.

“Thank you for listening so well! For the last part of our session as we won’t be seeing each other for two weeks, we can do something fun! We’re going to create our very own paper hats!” You continued. “That’s not all, we’ll be doing it with a very special guest so I want all of you to help him along okay?”

Once you introduced Bucky, you offered him to roam around the tables where the children were already planning how to design the best hat.

As you helped a boy add stickers to his hat, your attention is diverted to a mini commotion at the table ahead.

“What’s all the buzz about?” You moved closer, almost bursting into unruly laughter yourself when you see the Congressman sitting in tiny plastic chair wearing a red cone hat similar to the character while the kids fluttered around to add sparkles and glitters, blissfully unaware of your presence.

Not Bucky though as his eyes widen at the sight of you. You give a slight cough to get the attention of the children.

“Alright now, let’s not crowd around Mr Barnes.” You ushered the children away, giving a couple of soft apologies on their behalf.

“Don’t be. I enjoyed it.” He appeared to have snapped out of his momentary embarrassment of being covered in glitter, back to his charming self that you had the privilege of experiencing firsthand.

The rest of the session went smoothly (and glitter free). Bucky watches you bid goodbye to each kid in a unique and special way, from fist bumps to hugs and sometimes just a simple wave of the hand to the quieter kids. The children's section is quiet once more and he is amazed how you flutter around the tables, cleaning up effortlessly.

"Can I help?" He finds himself speaking up.

"Oh, that's alright. Wouldn't want to get your suit all messed up." You respond airily, trying to ignore the close proximity with Bucky.

"I insist." He says firmly and starts helping you to gather the scissors. You can't help but to notice how there's a butterfly sticker on his metal hand.

"A little girl - Lucy, she put this on me." He explains fondly. "Can't bear to take it off, at least not today."

Lucy. She never failed to turn up for every library session. Although she wasn't the loudest in the room, she participated with a quiet determination. Which was why you found this revelation particularly surprising.

"That's amazing. She takes a while to warm up to strangers. Well, not that you aren't a complete stranger. You're an Avenger- oh I'm doing it again aren't I?"

"That's okay." Bucky reassures you calmly. "I like it."

His straightforwardness throws you off, leaving you flustered but oddly pleased.

"Hey-"

"No, you go first."

"Do you want to get a drink?" Bucky asks. Before you could respond, loud voices could be heard from the adult's section, slowly becoming much louder.

"Oh no..."

"There you are!" Bucky spots Alexi from a mile away with that strikingly bright red suit. The rest of the team hushes him collectively, with Yelena attempting to make herself as small as possible.

"We've been trying to call you! Then your assistant- and she said you were in this place of knowledge! Oh, and who is this lady?" Alexi stares at you, intrigued. Bucky steps in front, feeling protective.

"Alright, can we focus, please?" Bucky shoots you an apologetic look that you clearly understood.

You'll have to reschedule.

***

“So! Are you not going to tell us who she is?” John is the first to broach the topic. Bucky gives him one of his famous death glares. However, this only encourages him and the rest of the team more.

"She seems lovely." Yelena teases, "Though I'm not sure why she would be attracted to a grump like you."

"Opposites attract." Ava adds helpfully (or unhelpfully in Bucky's opinion).

The jet flies across the ocean, making its way back home. Bucky taps his foot impatiently. Any longer with this group and having to endure their teasing might just make him commit daylight murder.

Bucky feels a buzz in his pocket and he fishes out his phone to read the message.

"Oooooh! Someone's texted back!" The team is in sync with their onslaught on their leader.

"Someone just kill me now." He mumbles under his breath.

*** You tug on your cardigan, waiting for Bucky on the steps of the library.

"Doll!" You hear a familiar voice that made your heart skip a beat. Though you must say, you were a little shocked to find out that he wasn't alone.

"Hello! Miss Librarian!" Alexi booms.

"Oh my god Dad she has a name." Yelena groans.

"Yes but she is proud of her job no?"

"Sorry about these idiots. Hi, John Walker." The man extends his hand for a handshake before being brushed aside by Bucky.

"Hi," you decide to make yourself known. "Bucky's told me about all of you."

"Whatever he's told you, don't believe all of it. The man's too grumpy for his own good." Yelena pipes up as Ava nods.

"Ok! And it is time for you to all go. The jet does not need a parking ticket." Bucky interjects pushing his teammates away from you. "Bob's waiting!"

With a couple more goodbyes, the jet zooms away, leaving the two of you still standing on the steps of the library.

"Not everyday my date is late because he's keeping the world safe from bad guys and outer space threats." You joke.

Bucky doesn't say a word and you're suddenly afraid that you may have fried his internal circuits.

"Sorry, I wasn't mad-"

"I'm your date?" He says with a grin and your words slowly sink in.

"Oh, well... I thought... um..." You scramble for words much to Bucky's amusement and he takes a step closer towards you.

"Would it be weird to say right now that I was thinking exactly the same thing?"

The both of you laugh and your stomach takes this moment to grumble loudly.

"Someone's hungry. I know a good Japanese Restaurant."

"I'm always down for good food."

He slots his fingers in between yours, holding on to your hand firmly.

"Great, then Sushi awaits."

"You are a god send."

[yingren]

tbd, tiny activity update.

i've not felt super happy about my writing lately like there are some things that bother me with my own writing and then i get a lil bit of a writers block bc of it. things have been left sittin for longer than usual but i will get to them soon. if i'm slow or i seem "picky" with what i reply to, you know why. nothing personal, it's all me.

[laufeysvalentine]

cat's out the bag

spencer reid x fem!reader | masterlist

summary ༄ spencer reid x secret relationship!reader — in which members of the bau go out for dinner and see spencer with... a girl?

early seasons spencer, twilight & ariana grande references for some reason (i don't even listen to her), reader sits on spencer's lap, disgustingly cute but mostly disgusting

word count ༄ 2k

nora’s notes ༄ my first spencer reid fic + a new writing style. this may be a complete disaster 💖

Spencer’s in the middle of finishing up a reread of a Sherlock Holmes installment and packing up from work when the clomping of two pairs of shoes ruins his peace. 

“Morning, genius,” one of the voices says, bubbling with sweetness in just a way he knows exactly who it is without having to look at the two shadows that enter his vision, blocking the light. 

“It’s almost evening. In fact, it’s been six hours, thirty-four minutes, and eighteen seconds since morning,” he mutters, flicking the page over. “Now, move. I can’t see.” 

“No, you’ve been in a funk all week and we’re going to get you out of it,” Garcia sing-songs, taking his book hostage. She looks the opposite of how he has the past week–put together, with a perfect outfit, as always. “I don’t care why you’ve been a grump, only that you come out with us tonight, yeah? You don’t have to drink, just hang out.” 

He looks up, reluctance prodding his expression. Garcia and Derek are side-to-side, arms crossed, looking down at him. Yeah, nope. “I’m busy tonight.” 

“With?” Derek raises an eyebrow. “You got a date, pretty boy?” 

“I’m meeting with a friend who’s been out-of-town.” He responds, reaching out for his book. “Okay, Dad?” 

“Seriously, Reid?” JJ chimes in from behind the other two. “Come out with us.” 

“I’m busy. I would say I was sorry, but I’m not. 1 in 8 people apologize at least twenty times a day. 43% of people regularly apologize during a situation in which they are not at fault–” Spencer begins as he turns away from them to collect his things. 

“Yeah, that’s enough. Getting Hotch to come was hard enough, I’ll call it quits while I still can. See you tomorrow, Reid.” JJ turns on her heel and walks back towards her own desk.

“I’ll see you two tomorrow too.” He nods and passes them on his way out. “Bye.” 

Garcia looks at Derek, her eyebrows cocked. “Well, then.” 

“Guess it’ll just be you and me, baby girl,” he teases, heading to walk back to his desk. 

“Just the way I like it.” Her heels nip the back of his shoes as she chases after him. “Even though JJ and Hotch will be there too.” 

“They can watch.” 

— 

“When’s Hotch getting here?” JJ drums her fingers on the side of her glass, tilting her head up. The restaurant they’re in is loud and crowded, the three of them squished into a booth clearly meant for two, all having glasses of what the waitress described as “fun, flirty drinks” cradled in their hands. Garcia’s stirring some kind of electric pink concoction with an equally pink umbrella when a throat clears. 

“I’m here,” their boss says, sliding into the booth next to them. His eyebrows furrow–well, maybe that’s just his resting face, they can’t really tell–as he glances at the drink in Derek’s hands. “What exactly is it that you’re drinking?” 

He shrugs, taking a sip. “I think it’s called the Orange Surprise. Not that there’s anything surprising about it–or this place, at all, really. I mean, look around. And this just tastes like–” 

“Wait,” Garcia interrupts, eyes on something behind him. She whips off her glasses, rubbing them furiously on her shirt before her jaw drops and she begins to stand in her seat. “Is it just me or is that Reid over there with a girl? A gorgeous girl at that?” 

As soon as she finishes her sentence, three more heads whip around to her line of vision, shock pulling at their faces. Even Hotch looks mildly surprised. 

From their vantage point in the restaurant, they can see Spencer’s side profile as he stares at a girl across the table from him–you, looking magnificent, even in the dingy, uneven bar lighting. Your elbows are on the table, face cradled by your hands as you stare up at him. The love shining out of your face--lips parted with intrigue as you listen, eyes soft, cheeks relaxed--is sickeningly lovely. And even at first glance, a table full of profilers can tell just how much you care about him–enough to reach across the table and smooth down an untidy lapel, enough to listen raptly as the words begin spilling out of him in a ramble, to smile at him with a kind of learned tenderness you only get from knowing someone with incredible intimacy and just time. 

“Oh. My. God.” She tries to scooch past Derek, who catches her by the hips. 

“Wait, baby girl. I wanna see how this plays out before we interrupt. What if that’s a cousin? I don't know, a friend?” He says, stalling her. She reluctantly sits back in her seat, neck craned. 

“They’re touching,” JJ reports, a gasp falling from her lips. “Reid hates touch.” 

“We can see, JJ,” Derek quips, though his jaw is just as dropped. 

As soon as the boy started rambling, everyone at the table expected you to get up and walk away, or look as bored as they felt listening to him. But you stayed. Your eyes are on his, nodding every so often. They watch as one of your hands wanders to Spencer’s arm, rubbing a circle on the fabric of his button-down. He looks so relaxed in your presence, unlike they’ve ever seen him before. What the hell is happening?

“Please let me go over,” Penelope begs. “I need to know. I need to meet her!” 

“I second it,” JJ echoes. “They’re worse than the two of you, and I didn’t think that was possible with Genius over there.” 

“No, we still don’t know if they’re long-term or first date or what. What if we barge in and they’re just friends?” Derek almost sounds convincing. Almost.

“That is not friendly behavior,” Hotch chimes in. Their attention lasers in on the table in front of them, shock freezing their limbs. You’re pouting, saying something to Spencer–he’s melting in your hands, nodding so much it looks like his head could just screw off any moment now, and you stand. Are you going to leave? Break up? What’s happening? 

You wander to his side of the table, and, in the most disgusting display of PDA ever, you lower yourself onto his lap, hands knitting themselves together behind his neck. And Spencer is sickeningly okay with it, hands traveling to your hips, massaging your pelvic bones as you say something to him. A blush pinches his cheeks–no, it’s like a virus, spreading all over his face as he buries himself into your neck. 

Garcia thinks she heard Derek gag. A giggle escapes you, loud enough to hear from their booth. From across the restaurant.  

“Okay, we’re going over,” he announces, standing from the table. “Even just to break this up. I’m nauseous.” 

“Copy that,” JJ contorts her face, following the group towards them. 

Garcia’s practically skipping ahead, expression both accusatory and giddy as she reaches your table. Her hands slam onto the wood, eyes wide as Spencer rears back, immediately on alert. “Alright, Reid, explain yourself now.” 

“Less dramatic, princess,” Derek whispers to her, nudging her shoulder. 

You cock your head at the quartet. They can all tell you’re mentally scanning them, just as much as they’re doing to you. It takes you a couple moments–and Spencer’s groan as he returns to his previous position nestled on your shoulder–before it clicks who they are. 

You jump up, abandoning Spencer with an embellished gasp. “You must be the BAU!” 

“Minus a few members, yes.” Hotch nods at you, looking the exact picture of what your boyfriend had described. Anyone who didn’t know him wouldn’t be able to peer past the perfectly neutral, bordering on pleasant mask he’s pasted on his face. But that twitch of his lips gives it all away: he knew nothing about you, and mentally his jaw is on the floor. “Pleasure to meet you.” 

“You too…Aaron Hotchner?” You guess, biting your lip. You’re so purely adorable that half of the team is already in love with you. 

He nods, and you smile at all of them. The happiness you’re wearing is so genuine that JJ whispers to Derek, “I think I just got blinded.”

“And you’re Penelope Garcia?” You turn towards her, eyebrows raised. She reaches her hand to shake yours, but you bypass it entirely and go in to wrap your arms firmly around her. She hugs you back, eyes blown up at shock.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe you’ve been keeping her from me this whole time!” She accuses Spencer as you pull back, greeting the other members as well. You hear the surprise in JJ’s laugh as you do the same for her, hug firm and leaking with kindness. 

“I haven’t,” he responds matter-of-factly. He’s resisting the urge to pull you back into him, annoyed at all of his colleagues for stealing your time together. Instead, he shifts to the edge of the seat, legs opening wide in a manspread that would be absolutely disgusting on anyone else. But it fits him. Alarmingly well. “I talk about Y/N all the time.” 

“Y/N’s your girlfriend?” Garcia’s tone borders on a shriek, but in a restaurant as loud as this one, no one notices. “I thought she was your cousin!” 

“Ew, what?” you crinkle your nose just as Spencer echoes your words–“That’s disgusting. But scarily more common than you’d think.” 

“I-I mean, you do talk about her a lot. You’ve just never mentioned her in relation to you before.” She sputters out. Everyone can see the cogs turning in her brain, trying to piece the puzzle together. “I love you already.” 

“He said he wouldn’t talk about us at work,” you agree, letting his arm pull you between his legs, one hand falling to your thigh. “Do you guys want to sit down? Now that the cat’s out of the bag, we should catch up.” 

“Um, yes, absolutely!” Garcia throws her hands into the air, scooching the two of you over so she can fit into the booth. “Now, tell me absolutely everything.” 

You shrug, snug on your boyfriend’s lap while also leaning in to look at her. Both of you sparkle in a way he absolutely adores. “I saw him, I liked him, I wanted him, and I got him.” 

“In the wise words of Ariana Grande,” she nods, words wise and expression stoic.

“Are you an Arianator?” You gasp, hand collapsing onto her hand in excitement. She takes that cue to launch into something Spencer does not at all understand. The other members of the BAU shuffle into the other side of the booth, Derek closest to Spencer and JJ at the end. He almost lets out a laugh seeing Hotch sitting so uncomfortably between them, shoulders drawn up tight as to conserve room, face equally as scrunched.

He opens his mouth to comment, but your fingers interrupt, drumming on his shoulder in excitement. You recap your conversation in a voice no one else can quite hear but him. He nods as you ramble, the opposite of what you were doing for him a few minutes ago. In some ways, you're just like him, but you're also complete opposites in so many others. While he usually hates physical touch, you lean into it, fingers tracing patterns onto his broad back while the sun peeks out of the sky, showering him in a glow that makes him downright angelic. Your other hand creeps to his as you watch him brush his teeth–you love seeing his toothbrush next to yours, there’s something so incredibly romantic about it that you can't describe, something that intertwines the two of you. He’s yours, you’re his. 

He presses his lips to your hair, then behind your hair, inhaling you. You’re perfect for him. So, so perfect. 

“Wow, pretty boy.” Derek shakes his head. “Just when I thought I’d seen everything. I didn’t think you’d be so into PDA.” 

“She was away for a whole week. What do you expect me to do?” He huffs, arm wrapping around your waist. Yes, he still hates handshakes, but for you–well, he is absolutely pathetic. And after having you leave for work? Not seeing you for seven whole days? He would get down on his knees and beg you to hold his hand. To pay him an ounce of attention. God, he is unconditionally and irrevocably in love with you. 

“Greet her like a normal person. Or stay in your apartment,” Morgan advises, only half-joking. 

But Spencer’s no longer paying a shred of attention to anything his co-worker is saying. He’s too absorbed in you, laugh unabashed and tinkling as you discuss something animatedly with JJ and Garcia. You fit so well in his little family, he thinks. You might as well just stay with him forever. 

masterlist

tags @lydiasfalling @cowboylikemac - didn't tag anyone from my other list because it's a diff fandom!

[revelboo]

I LOVE your Soundwave(s) and Tarn! Those are my top two fav tfs (SW has been my fav since I was a wee thing!) and I love the way you write them both! Your stories are my daily decadent luxuries. <3

I read your pages every single day because I love all your stories so much — even ones that have characters that I’m really not interested in, I still can’t get enough of their stories! You’ve basically re-mapped my list of favourites and now I have so many more… You even made me like a spider! These characters-first stories literally drive my day and they mean so much to me, I can’t even begin to thank you enough for them.

I do, however, start missing some of these wonderful characters when I haven’t ‘heard from them’ in a while though, lol, especially ones on cliffhangers/edges/buildups. I’m currently ‘missing’ :

— Sunstreaker (so what’s my fav sunshine boy going to do now, eh?);

— the Rainmakers (I can’t wait for the little human to really get their attention); and

— the Constructicons (that last part to “Drive” makes me feel like it’s that moment right before wee little me gets to open my presents).

Although I wouldn’t object to Vortex, Megatronus, and Brainstorm making some noise too, since they were also left hanging a bit, lol.

I’m seriously attempting not to just list all my favs, but it isn’t easy since you’ve made me love soooooo many more of them, lol. <3

When you’re feeling up to it, could we have more Needs and Wants? I am one of those people that just systematically goes through the entire Otome to see all of the endings and ‘keep’ my fav one(s), and this story had me HOOKED from the opening sentence. Soundwave, Tarn, and Misfire? Hell yeah, sign me up! :D

Take care of yourself & know that your writing is fuel for so many of my days. <3

Thank you so much! I wanted to get more stuff updated this past weekend and kind of got myself into an ‘everything I write is garbage’ funk 😅

Needs and Wants Pt 5

Soundwave x Reader, Tarn x Reader, Misfire x Reader, Ratchet x Reader, Bluestreak x Reader, Wheeljack x Reader

• It’s the mech’s almost self deprecating smile and the flicking of his door wings that breaks through the overwhelming reality of your so-called soul mates. That look on his eerily human face that seems as uncertain as you feel somehow reassuring you. And Maccadam is right there, arms crossed as he watches the interaction like a father watching a potential suitor and trying to decide how bad to scare the kid. “We can talk,” you manage, voice shaky.

• “Okay, that’s- thank you,” he manages, tripping over his own words, and his tension eases as that feeling of warmth and belonging grows stronger, more insistent at the sound of your voice. Wants you to keep talking to him. Smile for him. Maybe let him touch your hand. Would that be too much? To let him touch a servo to those delicate looking fingers? Servos gripping the door frame, he feels Wheeljack bump his arm, the scientist’s vocal indicators flickering mauve when he frowns at him. And for the first time that he can remember, he’s speechless, wanting to ask so many things that he can’t say any of them.

• “Hi. Wheeljack here,” he says, awkwardly lifting a hand and warmth spills through him to twine about his spark when you hesitantly lift your own hand with a small, fragile smile. But you’re smiling at him. Shouldering in closer to Bluestreak, he ignores when he gets flicked with a door wing. “You’re looking for a partner?” He asks and you look at Maccadam, expression almost desperate. “I could take care of you.” Wants to try anyway. Because it’s be nice to have someone stay, need him and trust him to look after them. To not be alone.

• Denta gritting at the two Autobots trying to coax you into coming out, Tarn worries at the chains binding his wrists. Wanting loose even if his escape plan has stalled out. Hating that fascination singing through him from being near you to become a yearning he doesn’t want and can’t deny. Maybe when he escapes, he’ll just steal you. Sate this need with you and be satisfied.

• Coming up behind the two bots blocking you from view, Misfire drapes an arm across both of their shoulders, insulating himself between them to make them flinch to his delight. “Name’s Misfire.” And there you are, so small and needing reassuring. “These scary bots overwhelming you? I could keep you safe.” Wings flaring as Tarn and Soundwave both make a noise from behind him. So much for faction solidarity.

• Tempted to drag all three of them away from your door because they’re making you more anxious instead of less, Soundwave rumbles and rocks into agitated motion, pacing restlessly. Why does it feel like he’s tethered to you? Like he needs to be closer. Needs to touch you. Is this Maccadam’s influence or something else? Wants to soothe that nervous energy away.

• Hears Maccadam’s low voice coaxing and then Wheeljack, Bluestreak and that Decepticon seeker are backing away. Letting Maccadam lead you out, your arm tucked in his, a soft hand on his arm as your eyes dart around the room. Hold his optics for too short an amount of time before moving on. Aware that he’s probably the oldest mech here, that you’re unlikely to be interested in him. Even if he’s also the most experienced. Servos flexing, he’s moving closer, but then they all are spreading out, circling you. Hungry.

Previous

[pbaz7]

It’ll Always Be Her Chapter 5

AN: I’m trying to write consistent enough so I can publish at least once a day. Can you guys leave live reactions and comments so I know what people like/don’t like and which direction I should go!

TW: Verbal abuse, mention of death

Word Count: 3.3k

The hum of conversation filled the athletic lunchroom as different teams gathered around tables, laughing and sharing stories. Paige sat with KK and Ice, her tray of food untouched. Her gaze was distant, her thoughts completely occupied.

KK nudged Ice with a smirk. The two of them trying to figure out who’s going to break the ice with the senior. KK decides to speak, “Alright, Paige, spill it. What was up with you and Azzi the other night? The tension was crazy.”

Ice leaned in, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Yeah,it was impossible not to notice. Your eyes were glued to her all night.”

Paige’s cheeks flushed as she looked down at her tray. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she mumbled.

“Oh, come on,” KK chimed in, laughing. “You were raking her over like she was the last piece of dessert. And don’t even get me started on how you two just happened to disappear together.”

“And when you came back?” Ice added, raising an eyebrow. “Both of you looked flustered. Something definitely went down.”

Paige groaned, hiding her face in her hands. “You guys are impossible.”

KK grinned, leaning forward. “We’re just saying. It’s obvious there’s something there. So, what’s the deal?”

Paige sighed, her hands dropping to the table. “Look, what happened that night stays between me and Azzi. That’s all you’re getting.”

KK crossed her arms, giving Paige a mock glare. “Girl boo, keep your secrets. But you’re not fooling anyone. I know something happened”

For a moment, Paige stayed quiet. Then her expression softened, her voice dropping. “I really like her,” she admitted feeling vulnerable.

KK’s teasing demeanor shifted to curiosity. “Like, really like her?”

Paige hesitated, her voice barely above a whisper. “Yeah... maybe even something more.” Her eyes grew distant as her thoughts drifted to Azzi, her best friend for years. Memories flooded in—late-night talks, shared victories, moments where Azzi’s laughter had been the only thing to pull her out of a funk. It all swirled together, making her chest ache in the best way.

KK and Ice exchanged a look, their teasing forgotten.

“Wow,” Ice said softly. “That’s serious. So why haven’t you made a move?”

Paige sighed again, leaning back. “Azzi and I talked about it. We’re waiting until I can break things off with Jess. She’ll be back soon, and I owe her that conversation first.”

KK frowned. “That’s... responsible, I guess. But it sounds rough.”

“You have no idea,” Paige said, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Azzi’s intoxicating. When we’re together, it’s like nothing else matters. But I want to do this right. Azzi deserves it”

Ice reached over, squeezing Paige’s arm, surprisingly being serious for once. “You’re doing the right thing. It won’t be easy, but it’ll be worth it.”

KK nodded. “Yeah. We’re here for you, P Boogers. And honestly? We’re rooting for you and Azzi. After all I need my parents together”

Paige chuckles slightly and smiles, her heart feeling a little lighter. “Thanks, guys. I just hope I don’t lose my mind in the meantime.”

KK chuckled. “You got this. But hey, if you ever need to vent, we’re all ears.”

…

The rhythmic thud of the basketball echoed through the empty gym as Paige sprinted from one end of the court to the other, her breathing heavy and her shirt clinging to her from sweat. Each shot she took landed clean, the ball swishing through the net. She wasn’t keeping score—she was too lost in her own head. Her emotions were a storm: guilt over Jess, frustration with herself, and that overwhelming pull toward Azzi that she could no longer ignore.

Her muscles burned, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t. The gym was the only place where she could let everything out without saying a word.

Azzi stepped through the gym doors quietly, her sharp eyes immediately spotting the familiar figure of Paige moving across the court. She lingered for a moment, leaning against the doorframe, watching Paige in her element. The 6'1 blonde was a force, her movements fluid, her focus intense.

Azzi smirked. There was something captivating about Paige when she was like this, pouring all her energy into the game. After a few moments of quiet admiration, Azzi decided to approach, her footsteps light as she sauntered across the gym floor. “You trying to make the hoop fall in love with you too?

Paige startled slightly, not fully processing what the younger girl said, stops mid-dribble throwing Azzi a half-smile. “Just needed to work some things out.” She bounced the ball once more before tucking it into her arm..

Azzi smirked, stepping closer. “Seems like you’ve been doing a lot of that lately.”

Paige shrugged, her eyes dropping to the ball in her hands. “Yeah, well, sometimes it’s the only thing that works.”

Azzi’s eyes softened as she reached out, gently taking the ball from Paige and setting it aside. “Or maybe you just need a better distraction.”

Paige huffed a quiet laugh, shaking her head. “You offering?”

“Always,” Azzi said, her voice playful but her expression serious. She took another step closer, her hand reaching out to brush against Paige’s. Without hesitation, she intertwined their fingers, giving Paige’s hand a gentle squeeze.

The gesture was simple but grounding, and Paige felt some of the tension in her shoulders ease. She glanced down at their joined hands, her heart skipping a beat.

Azzi tilted her head, her voice softer now. “You’ve got this look on your face, like the world’s sitting on your shoulders. What’s going on, Paige?”

Paige hesitated, her thumb unconsciously brushing over Azzi’s knuckles. “It’s...complicated.”

Azzi smiled gently. “When isn’t it?” She leaned in slightly, pressing a soft kiss to Paige’s cheek—the same spot she has been gravitating towards lately when she wanted to offer comfort without pushing too far. “Take your time. I’m here.”

Paige closed her eyes briefly, the warmth of Azzi’s kiss lingering. “You make it sound so easy.”

Azzi chuckled. “That’s because you make everything else look so hard.” She squeezed Paige’s hand again, her thumb now drawing small circles against Paige’s skin. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now, you know.”

Paige let out a shaky breath, her gaze meeting Azzi’s. “You always know what to say, don’t you?”

“It’s a gift,” Azzi said, her smirk returning. “But seriously, Paige. You don’t have to do this alone.”

Paige looked at her for a long moment, the weight of Azzi’s words settling in her chest. “Thanks, Az,” she said softly.

Azzi smiled, leaning in just a bit closer. “Anytime, P.”

For a while, they stood there, the only sound the faint creak of the gym floor beneath their feet. Azzi finally broke the silence, her tone lighter. “You know, as much as I love seeing you like this—sweaty and intense—you really should take a break. Recharge that beautiful brain of yours.”

Paige chuckled, rolling her eyes. “You really can’t help yourself, can you?”

“Nope,” Azzi said, grinning. “But that’s why you love me.”

Paige’s breath hitched slightly, but before she could respond, Azzi gave her hand one last squeeze and pulled away. “I’ll leave you to your thoughts. I can tell you’re not done. Meet me later?”

Paige nodded, her voice quiet. “Yeah. Like always.”

Azzi winked before turning to leave, her presence lingering even after she disappeared through the gym doors. Paige stared after her, her hand still warm where Azzi’s fingers had been. She knew she wasn’t ready to say everything yet, but she also knew one thing for sure—she didn’t want to let Azzi go.

…

After spending a few more hours in the gym Paige opened the door to her room, expecting a quick stop before heading to Azzi’s, but the moment the light flicked on, her stomach dropped. Jess was sitting on Paige’s bed, her shoulders hunched and her eyes red from crying.

Paige froze for a moment, a knot forming in her throat. The sight was unexpected. “Jess?” Paige asked softly, trying to mask her discomfort.

Jess looked up at her, her gaze unfocused, but when she saw Paige, she stood up quickly. “I’m sorry,” she choked out, her voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t know where else to go. I—I just… I didn’t want to be alone.”

Paige’s heart clenched, but she kept her voice calm. “What’s going on? Are you okay?”

Jess’s face crumpled again as she took a breath, barely able to hold it together. “My dad… he passed away,” she whispered. “I had to take a break before the funeral, and I just—everything’s falling apart, Paige. I don’t know who else to turn to. I really need you right now.”

Paige felt the weight of the words settle in her chest. She wanted to be there for Jess, truly, but at the same time, everything inside her screamed that she couldn't keep pretending anymore. She’d been doing that for months now, and the reality of what she’d been hiding, the feelings she’d been trying to push aside, were too strong to ignore.

“Jess, I’m so sorry,” Paige said, her voice soft, though the words felt foreign in her mouth. “But I don’t think that’s the best idea… I think we should break up.”

Jess blinked, her face going from shocked disbelief to something darker, a mixture of anger and pain. “You’re kidding, right?” she spat, standing up from the bed, pacing. “You’re doing this now? After everything?” Her voice trembled, but it didn’t take long for the hurt to turn into sharp, biting fury.

“I just—” Paige started, but Jess cut her off, her voice rising.

“You’re fucking heartless, you know that?” Jess’s words sliced through the room, and Paige flinched at the venom in her tone. “I come to you in my worst moment, and you just walk away?” Jess’s eyes were wild with rage now, the tears mixing with her anger. “I’m here grieving, and you’re just dumping me? You think I don’t notice? You think I don’t know how you’ve been with her? How you’ve been fucking her behind my back?”

Paige’s stomach churned. She never expected the words to sting this much even if they weren’t true, but Jess wasn’t done yet.

“You think I don’t see how you look at her?” Jess continued, stepping forward, her finger jabbing toward Paige in accusation. “You don’t even care about me, do you? You’re just some selfish bitch who thinks she can do whatever the hell she wants and leave me hanging when I need you most!”

Paige opened her mouth to speak, to explain herself, but Jess wasn’t finished.

“Don’t fucking act like you’re the ‘good person’ here,” Jess sneered. “You’re not. You’re just a slut who can’t keep her hands off her best friend. God, I knew I was always second choice to her, but this? You’ve been making excuses for months. You’re such a fucking coward, Paige. You’ve been playing me this whole time.”

Jess’s words hit harder than anything Paige had expected. She stood there, frozen, feeling the sting of each insult. But despite the tears welling up in her eyes, she didn’t fight back. She didn’t say anything. She just stood there stoically, taking it, letting Jess’s words sink in.

“You think you’re better than me, but you’re just as fucked up as the rest of us,” Jess spat, her chest heaving as she took in a breath. “Maybe worse. You’re a fucking liar, Paige. Always have been. Always will be.”

The room fell into an unbearable silence, except for the sound of Jess’s heavy breathing. Her face was twisted in a mix of grief and disgust, and Paige could barely look at her. She wanted to say something—anything—to make this stop, but all she could do was stand there, feeling the weight of what felt like the world on her shoulders.

Finally, Jess’s voice broke, though it was laced with rage. “You know what? Fine. You’re done with me. I get it. But don’t you dare pretend like you’re some fucking angel when you’re just as much of a mess as I am. Go to her. Go be with your precious little Azzi. I hope she’s worth it.”

Jess stormed out of the room, slamming the door behind her. The sound of the door banging against the frame echoed through Paige’s mind like a hammer.

Paige stood there for a moment, her chest tightening, her heart pounding. The silence in the room was deafening. And then, as if on cue, the tears came.

They started slow at first, the first tear falling down her cheek like a steady drip. But once the dam broke, they came in a flood, her entire body shaking as she collapsed onto the bed.

She just wanted it to stop.

She buried her face in her hands, her body trembling as the weight of everything she’d been holding in finally spilled out. She had waited so long to try and do the right thing. She’d tried to be a good person for Jess, to make things work, she basically forced herself to be with Jess so she wouldn’t be embarrassed but it was never right. Not in the way she felt for Azzi. She had put herself in this impossible position, and now, after everything, she was being told how awful she was for trying to make things right.

Her breath hitched, and the sobs came harder. She slid down onto the bed, curling into herself, trying to catch her breath. Her head spun, and she just wished Azzi was here. She wanted to feel Azzi’s warmth, her gentle touch, something to remind her that she wasn’t as terrible as Jess had made her feel.

…

Azzi paced around her dorm room, glancing at the clock. Paige should’ve been here by now, she had texted Azzi that she was leaving the gym a while ago. Her stomach twisted, a strange unease settling in. She’d tried calling, but Paige didn’t pick up. A flash of worry crept up on her. After a few moments of hesitation, Azzi grabbed her phone and decided to checked Paige’s location—her friend was just a few doors down in her suite.

Something wasn’t right.

Azzi threw on her jacket and grabbed her things. She couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off. As she started walking toward the door, her phone buzzed. It was Ice.

Azzi’s pulse spiked.

"Hey," Ice’s voice came through the phone, a little strained. "You need to come over. Paige... Paige has been crying. I don’t know what happened, but she won’t talk to me about it."

Azzi didn’t wait for another word. She practically ran out the door, not even bothering to grab her keys as she bolted for Paige’s suite.

When she arrived, Ice was standing by the door, giving her a strained smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "She’s in there," Ice said, stepping aside to let Azzi in. "I don’t know what’s going on, but... just be gentle with her, okay? She needs you Azzi."

Azzi nodded, her chest tight as she made her way to Paige’s room. The door was cracked open, and as she stepped inside, the soft glow of the neon lights illuminated the chaos of Paige’s room. Paige was curled up on her bed, her face streaked with tears. Her eyes were swollen and red, and her expression was a mix of exhaustion and devastation. The sight alone was enough to break Azzi’s heart into a thousand pieces.

"Paige," Azzi whispered, her voice cracking. She moved to the side of the bed, kneeling down beside the blonde, her heart shattering even more when Paige didn’t even look up at her. "Baby, what’s wrong?" Azzi whispered again, slipping into a familiar tone as she reached out to gently touch her friend’s cheek.

Paige didn’t answer immediately. She just sniffled, her body trembling as she fought to hold herself together. Azzi noticed this and, without hesitation, slipped under the blankets next to her. She eased herself into a comfortable position, pulling Paige gently against her chest. She wrapped her arms around the older girl and traced small hearts on her back with her fingers, just trying to offer comfort, to let Paige know she was there.

It didn’t take long for Paige to begin speaking, her voice barely above a whisper. "Jess... Jess came to my room today," she began, her words broken. "Her dad... he passed away. And she was asking me to go with her for the funeral. But I... I couldn’t. I can’t be with her anymore, Azzi. I—" Paige hiccupped on a sob, her voice cracking. "She just... she called me horrible names. Told me I was a player basically, that I’ve been lying to her, that I’m a terrible person. And the worst part is... I kind of believe her. Pretending to like her was selfish."

Azzi’s jaw clenched as she listened. Her heart ached at hearing Paige speak so softly about something so painful. The thought of Jess saying those things to her, especially in such a vulnerable moment, made Azzi furious. She could feel the anger building in her chest, and if she ever saw Jess again, she’d be sure to make her know just how wrong she was.

But that wasn’t her priority now.

Azzi tightened her grip on Paige, lifting her chin to make their eyes meet. "Paige, stop. You are not a bad person. You never have been. It’s okay to put yourself first. And you’re not a player for having feelings for someone else. You deserve to be happy, to be with someone who makes you feel good—who makes you feel safe."

Paige’s lip quivered, and her eyes welled up again. "I don’t know anymore, Azzi. I just feel... I don’t know who I am."

"Yes, you do," Azzi reassured, brushing a stray strand of blonde hair away from Paige’s face. "You’re Paige. You’re strong, you’re kind, you’re brave. You’ve done everything you can for Jess because you care, but this? This is about you now. You deserve to be loved the way you’ve always dreamed of. And I can’t sit by and let you think you’re anything less than incredible."

After a while Paige finally let out a shaky breath, nodding slightly, the tension beginning to ease from her shoulders. Azzi’s words settled in her chest, a warmth spreading through her as she realized just how much she needed this—needed Azzi.

"I’m so sorry, Azzi. Thank you for dealing with me." Paige whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Azzi returned the smile, brushing her lips against Paige’s forehead in a soft kiss. "I’m not going anywhere, baby. I’ll always be here for you."

Paige let out a soft chuckle, the sound almost foreign to her after the storm of tears. "You’re such a tease," she murmured, her voice lightening.

Azzi raised an eyebrow, her smirk playful. "What? I’m just showing you some love."

Paige rolled her eyes but couldn’t help but smile. "Yeah, love, huh? I think you’re a little too comfortable with that, Azzi."

Azzi grinned. "Maybe I just can’t resist you."

Paige’s smile widened, her gaze softening as she leaned in slightly, her voice low and teasing. "Well, you’ll just have to try harder, then."

Azzi’s lips curled into a smirk, her eyes gleaming.

They spent the rest of the evening together, the weight of the world slowly lifting from Paige’s shoulders as they joked, flirted, and just spent time in each other’s company. Eventually, they settled in to watch a movie. Paige’s head rested against Azzi’s shoulder as the movie played, but it wasn’t long before she drifted off, a peaceful smile on her face. Azzi kissed her cheek gently, watching her sleep with a tenderness that filled her chest.

The movie continued playing, forgotten in the background, but neither of them cared. Paige was safe, and Azzi was right where she belonged—by her side.

[blackenedsnow]

Hello! Sorry for the message in Spanish! I think that I have sent the English version :<

Well...I was thinking of shadow sharing apartment or house with a queen of disco (I think it would be very cute the image of shadow sleeping on top of the big hair of a woman almost three times taller than him)

funk

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Shadow the Hedgehog x (Fem) Reader

NOTE: Hey it's not a problem! Thanks for sending this amazing request! It was so much fun writing this scenario lol. I’m always happy to create something special for you!

SUMMARY: Shadow the Hedgehog isn’t one for roommates, but somehow, he ends up sharing a place with you. A disco queen.

The apartment was quiet for once. Well, it was only quiet because you weren’t home yet, but Shadow wasn’t complaining. He didn’t mind the constant hum of disco music playing from your vinyl collection or the way you’d hum along while twirling in your platform shoes. It was just… a lot sometimes.

When you’d first moved in, Shadow hadn’t exactly expected to live with someone so full of life. His world had always been chaos, but yours? Yours was vibrant. You brought glitter, neon colors, and a wardrobe that could blind someone. Still, there was something about the way you lived that intrigued him. You owned the dance floor of life, and Shadow had never seen anyone do that so effortlessly.

He was sitting on the couch when the door finally swung open, revealing you in all your disco glory. Your heels clacked against the hardwood floor as you tossed your bag onto the couch beside him.

“Shadow, you’ll never guess what happened at the club tonight!” you exclaimed, spinning once before plopping down into an oversized chair. Your hair, as big and bouncy as ever, framed your face in a cascade of curls and glittery pins. You looked like you belonged under a spinning disco ball, not in a modest little apartment.

Shadow barely looked up from his book. “I’m sure you’ll tell me.”

“Oh, I will!” you said, leaning forward with excitement. “But first, I need to get these shoes off. My feet are killing me!” You kicked off your platforms, sending one of them clattering against the floor. “Ahhh, much better.”

Despite himself, Shadow cracked the smallest hint of a smile. He’d gotten used to your dramatic flair. Actually, he’d gotten used to a lot of things—like how your hair always seemed to take up half the room when you sat down.

“Anyway, what about you? Did you do anything fun while I was out?” you asked, brushing some glitter off your outfit.

Shadow shrugged. “Nothing worth mentioning. Just the usual.” He closed his book, standing up from the couch and walking past you toward his room. But when he reached the hallway, he paused and glanced back. “You should get some rest.”

You smiled at him, knowing that was Shadow’s way of checking in. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll sleep after I unwind. You go ahead, though.”

A little while later, the apartment was quiet again. You were sprawled out in your chair, half-asleep, while Shadow stood in the doorway to his room, looking at you. There was something oddly calming about the sight of you at rest. Your hair, now fluffed up even more from the night’s events, was almost comically big, framing your face like a soft, glittery pillow.

Shadow shook his head, but a thought crossed his mind. It wasn’t like him to seek comfort, but… maybe, just this once.

Without saying a word, he padded across the room toward you. Your soft breathing filled the space as Shadow climbed onto the back of the chair. He hesitated for a moment, then—gingerly—settled himself on top of your giant curls.

He could feel the softness of your hair beneath him, warm and light, like resting on a cloud. It was absurd, really. The ultimate lifeform, sleeping on a disco queen’s hair. But somehow, in the midst of all the glitter, chaos, and color, it felt right.

You stirred slightly but didn’t wake up, and Shadow relaxed. Maybe disco and darkness could coexist. He could handle the glitter, the music, and the energy—because somehow, you made it all feel like home.

[4rticbolt]

Gonzo |Master-List|

Usopp x reader, fluff, comfort, mentions of depression, angst, platonic relationship with the straw hats, (they don’t play about you), crack, !fluffy bonus!

Summary: Growing overwhelmed, you disappear off the ship for a walk, and a certain someone is very worried.

A/N: First time really writing Usopp! I’m happy with how it turned out, hopefully, I captured his character well. Also, yes, I didn’t properly cut the pictures out, but do I care? No. Am I going to ever fix it? Probably not.

•-•-•—•-•-••-•-•—•-•—•-•

3:05pm.

“Hey, has anyone seen ____?” Usopp asks, swinging into the galley with a trinket he meant to show you.

Lunch had let up a few hours ago, and he hadn’t seen you since. You were keeping to yourself, that was fine, he didn’t mind. But he was getting worried.

The whole crew was.

Sanji paused, setting down a pot of something he’d been working on. “Is she not in her room?”

“No, I’ve looked and she’s not anywhere!”

It started a few days ago, he nor the crew knew what happened, but they’d given you your space. They didn’t pressure you, they just were there.

Each and every member knew what it was like to experience a funk, and Usopp especially, knew everyone dealt with it differently. The sniper was lenient, and he wasn’t pressuring you to feel better. However, he was trying to make you smile.

It wasn’t much, but he’d made a fool of himself on purposes, acting clumsy or saying random things that would usually make you smile—but recently, there’d been none of that. And it broke his heart.

He missed your laugh, and he missed you.

“Well, let’s not panic. I’m sure she’s around,” Robin assured, setting down her tea. She turned to Franky, asking if he’d seen you below deck, maybe near the docking systems.

They’re were plenty of hiding spots there.

The cyborg hesitated, thinking back. But it was just as Usopp feared.

“I haven’t seen her, sorry bro. Did you check the crows nest?”

“Yes, I already said I’ve looked everywhere. I don’t know if she left or if she—“

“Usopp.” Nami interupted, resting a hand in his shoulder. “I’m sure she’s okay, you know her.”

“I’ll go ask the others if they’ve seen her,” Sanji grabbed a cigarette, smoking it while he renewed Robin’s tea. He turned to leave, but that was quickly interrupted.

“Sanji! I’m hungry!” Luffy shouted, swinging the door open—near slamming it in the cook’s face.

“You idiot! Watch where you’re going!”

Luffy only laughed, leaving a short apology. He would’ve strolled in if it wasn’t for the worried look on his best-friend’s face. Usopp looked close to tears, and that didn’t sit right with him.

“Wait, did something happen?”

“No,” Robin replied, “we’re just looking for ____.”

“____? Well where is she?”

Sanji, painstakingly, drug a hand down his face. “That’s what we’re trying to find out dumbass.”

“So…I’m guessing you haven’t seen her?” Usopp muttered, looking to the small metal bended flower in his palm.

It was metallic, with sanded edges that had accentuates of gold—something he knew you’d like. It was small, but it was something. And he planned to make more with you, as he figured it’d keep you busy.

He knew you hated mindless things, but if you were doing it with him, it wouldn’t feel so empty.

Luffy shrugged, shaking his head, “No, I haven’t, have you looked?”

“Yes Luffy, I looked.” Usopp grit, tightening his hand on the flower. His uncharacteristic snap sent the room quiet, and he averted his gaze.

“Sorry, I’m just worried.”

“It’s fine Usopp, we’ll find her. We still haven’t asked the others yet.” Nami smiled, “don’t get all worked up about it now.”

“Yeah!” Luffy agreed, peeking down the hall.“Zoro! Have you seen ____! Usopp’s worried and can’t find her!” He shouted, making the navigator cringe. She immediately sent a glare, but she didn’t comment. It was simply the truth.

“Hah?!”

The swordsman came down the hall, with an arm rested atop his swords, while Brook and Chopper followed behind.

Two of them shared a looked, but shrugged clueless, the third—Chopper, hesitated. He was the first to mutter your name, mulling over this morning and afternoon before pausing, gently shaking his head.

“No. Is she with you guys?”

“No, she isn’t.” Sanji sighed, blowing out smoke.

“Maybe she went for a walk?” Brook input.

“No, she would’ve said something.” Usopp said, looking to the window. It wasn’t impossible, but it wasn’t entirely not possible. “She always does.”

“Maybe it was a spur of the moment kinda thing? Maybe she forgot something in town?” Chopper offered, though it didn’t ease anyone’s worries.

“She still would’ve said something,” Robin murmured. “It’s not like her.”

“Yeah, it’s not.” Usopp breathed.

“Well, let’s check the ship again before we get our heads in a twist,” Franky stood, cracking his knuckles. “I’ll check the docking area.”

“Good idea,” Nami agreed, standing from her seat. “Let’s just split up and look, if we can’t find her here, then we’ll go check the island.”

Everyone nodded, prioritizing your safety over anything else. It was rather strange you disappeared so suddenly, but you were just here a bit ago. If you weren’t on the ship, you couldn’t of gone far.

You just had to be close.

4:40pm.

Usopp was on the verge of a mental breakdown.

He began to doubt everything.

Himself.

This situation.

The fact that an hour had passed, and you still weren’t found.

Literally. everything.

He felt like shit, and he felt like the worst boyfriend in the world. How hadn’t he noticed you left? What if you were taken? What if you’d fallen off the ship and drowned??

He was horrible. Horribly, horrible.

Usopp was now ranked the best, for the worst human in the Grand Line.

He didn’t deserve you.

He couldn’t even believe this was happening.

Without another word, Usopp hopped off the ship, ignoring his crew-mates calls as he trekked l the woods. He couldn’t keep dwelling on this, he just needed to find you.

What if you were hurt?

What if you weren’t coming back?

That thought rattled him the most, and he soon wondered—pushing away a branch, if he’d triggered any of this. If he’d made you feel this way.

It put an ache in his chest, and tears stung his eyes. He loudly called your name, growing frustrated with himself more than anything.

Self-blame cracked his resolve, but it didn’t slow him.

You couldn’t have gone far.

Nami’s exact words, and she was right.

But, another hour already passed.

5:55pm.

“Stupid, stupid—stupid—this can’t be happening.” Usopp cursed, feeling the need to tear out his hair. He let out a fake laugh, calling your name again.

“Are you even alive?!”

Oh. My. God. Idiot, why would you even say that?! What if she heard you? What if she didn’t?

“Dumbass, just find her—stop thinking for once and just do. You’re such a scaredy cat.” Usopp desperately called your name again, damn near tripping over his own feet as a branch he pushed, mis-fired.

It swung back, and he dodged, letting out a yelp.

“Now the woods hate me too, great.”

He wiped some dirt of his face, quickly standing up.

SNAP

Usopp froze.

He stiffened like a board, and looked down.

He hadn’t been the one to step on a branch. It was just grass.

Now, either that was you, or that was some evil demon coming to rip out his guts.

He much preferred you.

“Uh, ____?” He shakily muttered, whispering your name as if it’d help his unparalleling anxiety.

Very slowly, he got up.

He quietly peeked over the overgrown bushes, and saw you. His shoulders slacked, and he let out a breath of relief. Warmth flooded his chest, and he relaxed against the tree beside him,

Every negative idea he had disappeared in an instant. All he could think about was you, and that you were okay.

“There you—“

Usopp slipped, his hand tore off tore bark from the tree and it gave-way, sending him crumbling to the ground. He wanted to get up, he did, but he felt much too relieved. Besides, he needed to cool down anyways.

“Usopp?”

His heart perked, and he shifted to his knees, but you were already kneeling beside him. Your hand carefully found his, and he could finally smell your scent.

Ugh, he could cry.

“What are you doing out here?”

“No. What are you doing out here?! You just left? I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Usopp went to scold you more, but he hesitated seeing the exhausted look on your face.

Gods, now want the time.

Your eyes were tired, and softened as if you’d been crying. Your face was roughed, with scratch marks aligning your arms and legs—as if you’d been running from something.

“Are you okay?” He asked, reaching for your face.

You stiffened, swallowing back tears.

Managing a weak nod, the reaction was immediate, your mouth opened to speak—but nothing came out. Your brain gave mid-way and you couldn’t find a stupid enough excuse as to why the hell you were out here, alone.

Usopp waited, but as he realized you couldn’t talk, he didn’t hesitate to pull you in. His arms wrapped around your shaky form and he squeezed you with all his being, as if your life—or maybe his, depended on it.

“Don’t answer that, I know you’re not. I’m sorry I asked.” He mumbled, holding the back of your head.

Tears of his own came to, though he held them back. Now wasn’t the time to be frustrated with you, it was time to understand. Time to talk, not to scold, but be whatever you needed.

A minute or so passed, and he finally pulled back.

He reached for your face again, attempting to soothe you, but you burst into tears.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to disappear,” you choked, shakily wiping your tears, but he caught them instead. “Everyone’s probably so worried, I wasn’t thinking—“

“Hey, hey, stop—it’s okay. No one’s mad,” he shushed, holding the side of your head. “Yeah, we were worried, but we get it—I get it. You don’t need to explain yourself, please don’t apologize.”

You sniffled, listening, but not truly hearing. There were so many feelings and things to think about at once; guilt, shame, frustration—it was overwhelming. You didn’t even know what to say.

Another broken sound followed, and out of embarrassment—you’d wished you hadn’t left the ship at all. You’d wished you’d talked, you’d wished you’d communicated, but for some reason you felt like you couldn’t.

And, you never could understand why.

You felt, mute.

Usopp knew the feeling, he lived it. He went through it, back in the past—called a liar, never believed—never understood. Never wanted, never thought worthy of existing.

He knew.

He knew how it felt.

He pulled you in for another hug, gently lowering you to the ground as he gathered you in his arms. His head rested atop yours, and every fight, every injury—any pain he’d ever felt wasn’t comparable to this feeling now.

“It’ll be okay.” He murmured, holding you tighter.

“I know it’s hard, and I know it’s a pain, but you’re here now, right? That’s something isn’t it?”

A weak smile crossed his face and he leaned back to look at you, “You’re strong—so—so strong, and I’m so proud of you,” he held your face, kissing the corner of your eye.

“You came out here to breathe, right?” he asked, rubbing his thumb over your tears.

There was a quiet before you agreed, and he smiled. “Yeah, and maybe you didn’t tell us you came out here—and we were worried, but this meant something.”

You looked to him in confusion, not getting where he was going—as it all sounded pointless. But you knew better than that. It wasn’t nothing.

“You coming out here meant you’re trying, and—that’s everything right now.“

“I guess so,” you mumbled, but it was clear you were hearing it now.

Usopp gently ran his hands to your shoulder, rubbing them gently. “You guess so? Well I’m sure so.”

You let out a weak sniffle, and rubbed your eyes to fight a smile.

He was very determined to say in the least.

“Oh, wait—here,” he muttered, pulling out a trinket from his pocket. The item fumbled clumsily in his hands, and he weakly laughed when it fell. “Whoops,” he blurted, finally placing the flower in your hand.

“Oh, Usopp…”

“Yeah, yeah I know—pretty awesome right?” his eyes lit up with hope at your own, and his thoughts flowed easily.

“I made it this morning, with one of those zinc piece you helped me shear off.“

“You did?”

“Mhm! I did, and I thought maybe we could make more—together? If you wanted?” he offered.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, I just thought—“

“Yeah, I can.” you interrupted, smiling softly. Your sniper rambled one, explaining how he crafted the piece, gesturing to your hands to show you as if he wasn’t trying distracting you.

It felt something you’ve been lacking, meaning, even if it was just him talking about metal.

“And—bam! Just like that you have a flower!” he beamed, tossing the trinket up in the air before back into your hand. “Once we get back, I’ll get the stuff, and maybe we can…” Usopp’s voice trailed, and you leaned closer which seemed shut him up.

It wasn’t Usopp’s intention, but his hands stuck awkwardly out by his sides. He didn’t know what you were doing, but he wasn’t necessarily complaining. Your hand gently found his thigh, and you placed a soft kiss to his lips as thanks.

He deflated like a balloon, and his hands tenderly found your waist.

“Hey…” he whispered, reaching for you again. “What was that for?”

“What, I can’t kiss you?”

A gentle breeze blew between you, and birds chirped faintly in the distance. The sky was turned a gentle orange, while clouds of pink surrounded gentle stir-ins of blue.

“No—no, that was perfect, I loved it. I just, I wasn’t expecting it. I mean, don’t get me wrong I love when you kiss me—I just,” he choked over his words, letting out an embarrassed groan as he turned his head.

His hand found the back of his neck, and he slowly looked back. “I-I mean…”

“I know what you mean, but still. Thank you.” you assured, grabbing his hand. You placed the flower in his palm, and you held it there to emphasize his work. You couldn’t be more than thankful, really, and you loved seeing him like this.

It showed he cared, and he was always so easy to tease.

“Huh?” Usopp muttered, looking to your palms, before quickly searching your face. “For what?”

“For being there for me, I appreciate it.”

“Oh, yeah—of course.” he muttered, shifting his hands. It was stupid of him, but he didn’t really know what to do with them.

They were so warmly held in yours it sent his heart racing.

“You don’t need to be nervous, I don’t bite.”

Usopp cleared his throat, leaning back as if you’d burned him—not really, but your touch felt like it had. He crossed his arms, turning his head.

“I’m not nervous, you’re just…pretty.” he admitted—but immediately regretted it.

Now wasn’t the time idiot.

You let out a snort, laughing quietly. “I appreciate the compliment, but your still blushing wise-guy.”

“I am not!” he bursted, taking a stand. His face was as red as your scratches, and he couldn’t find the words to save his dignity.

It was long gone.

“Well—uh, you’re blushing too! And I am wise! Cause I’m the—guy of wise,” he hit his heel against the ground, coughing awkwardly.

He needed more of Sanji’s couple training.

“Mhm, very.” you agreed, laughing sofly as you shifted up. Your limbs ached in protest, but Usopp caught it. He saw the shakiness, and he saw the exhaustion as his hands settled to stable you.

He muttered your name, carefully bringing you forward. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, sending a tired smile.

It was small, but it finally reached your eyes, and that subtle change fixed the worry in his chest. He reciprocated the gesture, brushing some messy moss of your clothes. “You ready to head back?”

A hum was your response, and he looked you over again. He didn’t know what happened, but he wasn’t gonna let you walk on your own.

An idea crossed his mind, and he smirked.

“Oi—?”

In the blink of an eye he had you on his back. “Now get ready for the Usopp express!” A mocked evil laugh met your ears and he looked at you over his shoulder. His expression softened and he kissed your cheek, “Good to go?”

“Always,” you rested your head to his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his shoulders.

“You know, you should offer this Usopp express more often.” you added, and your words tickled his skin. He honestly didn’t know how to answer that, and he stalked forward.

Your breath and words washed over his neck, and he felt like the biggest sap in the world. He ducked under a branch, keeping you close as his hands found your thighs.

Usopp’s steps were careful, and steady—as they always were, but everything inside was the complete opposite.

He felt like a mess.

7:20pm.

Finally making it the ship, the sky was warmed with an onset blue and dark orange. The ships lanterns had been lit, overcasting a cozy glow over the rails.

The sunset hung overhead, and on-top the deck was a certain swordsman who watched the forest from afar. He hadn’t let up since Usopp left, though he trusted him to find you.

Brook watched along, hollering as he alerted the crew of your presence.

“He found her?!” Chopper zoomed from the deck, immediate to call your name, and everyone was quick to follow. The crew waited patiently as Usopp hiked up the gangway, ready to lunge as soon as you made footfall.

He gently set you down, and Nami was immediate to hug you first. Her hold was tight, and the little doctor wasn’t far behind, jumping to hug your leg.

“You okay—?” she asked, looking you over, but Luffy was quick to slam into you and your hugging circle.

Usopp took a pale shade as he watched Luffy knock you and Chopper to the floor, tumbling a few feet away.

“LUFFY!”

“Come on, bro!”

“Not cool!”

Luffy smiled, pulling back and Chopper was quick to hit him over the head, “hey what was that for?!”

“What? I was excited!”

“So?!”

“I’m just happy she’s back!”

Usopp was quick to hit him next, “You idiot! You could’ve hurt her,” he snapped, “she’s already tired—!”

“And scratched,” Zoro commented, holding out a hand to help you up. You didn’t immediately take it, too slow to think, but he carefully grabbed your arm to hoist you up—cautious of your minor injuries.

“Oh shit, yeah what happened?” Franky raised a brow, poking your cheek, “you look like a cat beat you up.”

You smiled, weakly pushing his finger away, “Long story.”

“Yeah, you never did tell me what happened,” Usopp deadpanned, pointing an accused finger at you.

“Yet again, long story.” you sighed.

“Wait was it actually a cat?!”

“Anyways, we’re glad you’re back,” Robin interrupted, gently placing a hand on your head, “you had us worried.”

“Yeah, sorry about that…”

“Good, you should be—“ Zoro scoffed, but Nami was quick to elbow him in the ribs.

“Don’t listen to him. And don’t apologize, we understand.” she smiled, adding rather calmly, “just don’t do it again.”

Nervously, you laughed, watching Zoro cripple to the floor in pain… Quick to say, you didn’t hesitate to agree.

“Honestly, I wondered if a sea king snuck you from below.” Robin commented, crossing her arms.

“YOHO!” Brook shuddered, “Absolutely not my dear Robin! You think so cruel.”

“Though I do say that is a rather common occurrence with pirates—“

“Ok! How about we get you inside and some food?” Nami gestured, already pushing you inside.

“I’m not really hungry—“

“Too bad, you at-least need to drink some water.” Usopp took your hand, keeping you safe as he led you to the kitchen. The door swiftly closed, and a distant shout already rang from inside.

Brook, who was left with Robin outside, seemed to enjoy the rather chaotic welcome home. It was normal here, and they didn’t think it’d ever change.

“It really wouldn’t be the same without her,” he murmured, keeping a light—but bittersweet tone.

Robin only nodded, “I think she knows that, deep down.” she looked to the window, seeing you in the kitchen as Chopper patch you up.

“It just might take some time for her to see it.”

. . .

“Yeah well whatever the idiot said, clearly worked.” Zoro grumbled, finally taking a stand. He sucked in a breath, wincing as his side stitched.

“Ugh, I think that witch broke my rib(s).”

9:00pm.

Bonus:

“The great Usopp has found his treasure!” The snipe declared, running straight at you.

You were in the Aquarium, watching the fish and tank to relax, but your peace and quiet hadn’t last long. You lover grabbed you, cozily tackling you to the couch.

A panicked sound muffled your lips, though it was too late. He pulled you to his lap, wrapping his arms around you to keep you close.

“Treasure?” you asked, looking up to him.

“Well—yeah, duh, I was looking for you.” he muttered, breezing over what you said—as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“No, you called me your treasure.” you repeated, leaning up, gently interrogating.

That was the first time you’ve ever heard him say that, otherwise—he’d said it to you in your sleep.

“Oh—Haha, did I? That’s funny,” he muttered, looking to the fish. “Oh would you look a that, their trying to kill another.”

“Huh?” you blurted, looking to the tank, but nothing was out of the ordinary. You deadpanned, looking to him before hitting his chest, “you’re such a dork.”

“Ow, I am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.” he finished, stuffing your face with the blanket.

“Hey! Quth—it!”

“Admit defeat!”

“M’fine—you win.” you pushed the blanket away, and he smirked.

“Usopp the great always wins.”

“Yeah, cause he can never admit defeat.”

Usopp utterly appalled, held his chest, “Not true.”

“Is true.” you mumbled, resting your head on his chest, and that was the end of the argument. Your arms came around his shoulders and he shifted his hold.

He smiled, tucking you in with a blanket he grabbed to keep you warm. Usopp didn’t plan to sleep here, but you looked too comfy to move. His hand gently combed through your hair, and he closed his eyes to soak up the moment.

Then softly, he mumbled:

“I forget your real sometimes.”

“Hm?” you hummed, drifting off.

“Nothing.” he fixed, realizing his mistake. He held you tighter, bringing his leg between your own.

“I’m just talking to myself.” he whispered, brushing your hair back. His hand traced your features, and his eyes closed to remember the moment, cherishing it forever as he drifted off.

“Goodnight.” he mumbled, as though were soft to agree.

The night settled in, and under the fish tank’s light, he joined you in sleep.

[n0rmal-cat]

Okay, this time for farmer yan, it's a pretty NSFW ask, so feel free to skip

You said he's open to accepting the idea of not having smexy and having all year around funking time, but what if yn has, like, super low lust

Like me personally, I'm a hypersexual person, constantly got my mind in the gutter, but other than my imagination, my urges are of that of a fossil,,

How would farmer react to that? Is he understanding and just happy with anything he can get or is he pouty and sulky?

You guessed it, it's me, ✨

Farmer x reader- love or lust?

Farmer is a very respectable guy if reader doesn’t want to have sex with him, they’re not having sex.

He wouldn’t be angry or sad with reader at all. You two are just different and he accepts that, if anything he’s asking reader if he can deal with his urges alone.

He loves reader and love is different from lust. He's going to do everything in his power to make sure reader loves him back, because reader is his whole world. He'd rather change himself then make them change.

“So you like to think about and engage online with lust, but don’t have the drive for it in the real world?” He asks, looking at reader up and down.

“Well that’s kinda the bare bones of it yeah”

“Would ya like it if I…wrote smut for you about us?…”

Reader bursts out laughing, he blushes and tilts his sun hat down to cover his face in embarrassment.

“Hold on hold on I’m crying, give me a sec” they pat farmers forearm.

“That’s a very nice thought, thank you”

He rolls his eyes “yer stupid…”

“I love you~” they hug his arm

“Oh get off me you little pest, wait till you read what I’m gonna write see how you act then” he doesn’t push them away but reader can feel his form become more loose, he was struggling to keep it stable.

“Alright alright whatever you say big guy” reader just smiles and leans in to him

[watermelonsugacry]

Could you do a blurb showing how Harry and 1dbandmate!yn reacted over the years when asked in interviews if they were a couple?? please 🙏

Always Asked

A/N: been in a writing funk lately but i'm happy i got this one done since i miss writing and posting to you all!! 💚

SUMMARY: Snippets of interviews over the years from when YN and Harry were asked if they were dating. (3.4k)

GENRE: 1dbandmate!yn, famous!yn

SINCE 2010 masterlist

2011:

Never in a million years did YN ever think her dream career would start so soon. It’s only been a year since she auditioned for the XFactor and now she’s sitting at a table next to her bandmates as hundreds of fans go down the line to get a copy of their freshly signed album. 

With copious amounts of screaming comes along an abundance of questions thrown at the teenagers. Most of the time, it’s YN giving the screaming fans a beautiful smile, asking them how they are, and thanking them for their kind words before passing the signed CD case to Harry. With all the excitement in the air, she feels like she’s truly living the pop star lifestyle she’d seen many others live out.

“Hiya, love,” YN smiles at the preteen girl who’s practically vibrating with excitement at seeing the famous band. She also gives a polite greeting to the supportive dad of the young girl who has his hands on his daughter’s shoulders. “How are you? I love your shirt.”

She compliments, smiling at seeing the young girl wearing a shirt with YN’s face on it. 

“My dad got it for me for my birthday!” The little fan beams.

“Did he?” YN animatedly gasps with a smile. “Well, it was nice of him to take you over here, yeah?”

She signs the CD case with a heart over her name before sliding it over to Harry. His fingers brush over hers and the two of them catch each other’s gaze. A smile tugs on their lips before looking away just as quickly. 

“Are you two dating?” The young girl practically screams out, her eyes bouncing back and forth excitedly between YN and Harry. 

The two teenagers tense up, thrown off by the question in such a crowded place. Their management team is still media-training them and while they’ve learned so much already, they’re still getting used to taking what they’ve learned out into the field.

YN and Harry give each other a look, already knowing the answer but searching in one another’s eyes for maybe a smidge of something more.

“Lilly!” The dad scolds before letting out a chuckle. “Sorry about that.”

“Don’t be,” YN shakes her head with a smile, hoping it's convincing enough to not cause any suspicion. “Sorry Lilly, but Harry and I aren’t dating because quite frankly—” She beckons the little fan closer, cupping her mouth but still being loud so her bandmate can hear, “—he has cooties.”

Harry’s immediately furrowing his brows together and lets out a long and playful, “Hey!”

“Ew!” Lilly laughs, seeming satisfied with that answer before waving goodbye and walking towards the rest of the band.

Before they can dwell on what just happened, thankfully the next fan shuffles over for their own interaction and signed copy.

2012:

The band is at their first Brits Awards show and needless to say, they all got a little tipsy after their win. Their team didn’t even have time to give them a snack or water bottle to help sober them up a little bit before their backstage press interviews.

“Harry, how will you guys be celebrating tonight?” A journalist asks from the crowd.

“Erm,” Harry giggles to himself and it makes YN tipsily follow from her spot next to him. The hand that isn't gripping onto their award goes to cover her smile. “I think we’re just gonna hang out and stuff.”

“YN? Is there any lucky man whom you will be celebrating with?” Another voice in the sea of reporters asks.

“Nope,” YN raises her eyes with a tipsy smile and a slow shake of her head. She shakes her thumb towards her boys with a click of her tongue. “Just these lads.”

“Any lucky lad in particular? Perhaps a curly-headed one standing next to you?”

Almost as if it was planned, the two teenagers comically look beside each other, cranking their necks in playful search of who the intrusive lady was referring to.

“Me?” Harry dramatically questions, pointing to his chest with a bright, open-mouthed, dimpled smile gracing his face.

“Well, I mean he is part of the band, is he not?” YN sassily purses her lips together, her media-training to retain her “good girl” image slipping out of her alcohol induced brain. 

Thankfully, before anything could be escalated further by the tipsy girl, the intrusive press, or the snickering boys, a member from their management team instructs the audience to move onto another person.

2013:

“You guys have known each other for what seems like forever now and your bond with the rest of the guys is so strong...” 

YN reaches forward for a sip from her glass of water on the panel table in her seat in between Harry and Niall. It’s been a long week for the band as they do press for their new movie, This Is Us. They’ve been thrown left and right with interviews that YN can’t help but already be done with the repetitiveness of some of the questions.  

“So then we’re all clearly curious to know if you and Harry are dating?”

“Nope,” YN pops the ‘P’ and shakes her head as if her actions were automatically programmed to respond in that way. She casually waves her finger between the two boys beside her, “But him and Niall are though.” 

The crowd of press people laugh and chuckle as they see Naill gasp and Harry raise his eyebrows in playful shock.

“I mean, you kinda pointed it out,” YN puts on her media-trained smile good enough to win an Oscar. “These lads are like my brothers and our bond is so strong because we see each other more like family than anything else. I see them more as annoying than someone I'd rather date, to be honest,” she forces out a light laugh. 

“Plus, as YN so kindly pointed out,” Harry leans on his elbows on the table as he looks to his crush next to him. YN can see his dimple dig into his cheek as he fights off a smirk. “M’happily in a committed relationship with Niall.”

Harry doesn’t take his eyes off of his bandmate as he leans back into his seat. He watches as she tucks her chin into her chest, her fingers rubbing over her lips to cover her giggle as the rest of the room breaks out in commotion.

2014:

“Can we assume that the rock on your finger is from a certain curly-headed lad?” The woman who’s interviewing them for the band’s new book Who We Are excitedly asks. 

The band are all sat on an L-shaped couch as they discuss the contents of the hard cover book. Sat in between Zayn and Niall, YN purposely avoids her gaze from Harry as she answers.

“No,” YN lets out a forced chuckle as she looks down to fidget with the diamond ring on her finger. Anyone who has looked at more than three pictures of YN can tell that her favorite pieces of jewelry are her assortment of rings along her fingers. But only true fans know that part of her liking to the small jewelry is to help her fidget with them when she has anxiety. It’s an odd feeling however that the newly gifted one has been the cause of her increase in nerves. “It’s um, from me boyfriend—well, fiancé now—Matthew. Harry is like a brother to me so that would be quite weird.” 

“Of course! I was only teasing, love.” The woman laughs with an over-exaggerated smile, clearly disappointed in the answer she was given. “Congratulations to you both.”

“Thank you,” YN forces a smile, still twisting at the shiny ring that sticks out like a sore thumb.

2015:

“YN.”

“James.” She says with the same amount of playful seriousness, the audience in front of them laughs along. As the date of the band’s long-awaited hiatus comes closer and closer, their good friend James Corden interviews them in the same location where they filmed the music video for Story of My Life. 

“Harold,” the host directs his attention to the band member sitting next to her.

The fans in the crowd only giggle in giddiness even further as Harry playfully throws a hand up in confusion with what the fans call his ‘frog’ smile. 

“Now, we are all truly devastated when we heard the news that you and your long-time partner had called it quits a couple of weeks ago.” The audience laughs when James comically shakes his head no. YN even lets out a laugh when she sees the fans in the audience cheer at the news of her new relationship status. Despite the support she feels from the fans, it doesn’t necessarily calm the nerves at why the host brought the topic up in the first place. “Now we’re also all wondering if this may have possibly opened up, I don’t know, an opportunity for you to seek something with another lad?”

“Um,” YN lazily holds her microphone to her lips as she gives James the news that will hopefully shut down the conversation. “I think m’gonna just focus on myself for a bit. Yeh know, take a break from dating and all that.”

The room breaks out into chuckles when the host makes noises like he doesn’t believe her. He wags his interview cards in the air as he says, "I mean, both of your writing credits on some love songs tell me otherwise..."

Truthfully, the two friends can't deny that logic. They've either individually or co-wrote a plethora of love songs...that may or may not have been about each other. But will they ever admit that to a room full of their fans who have been shipping them since their XFactor days? Hello no.

“Well, the beauty that YN and I see in music is that songs are always up for interpretation," Harry interjects. "They can mean anything you want them to be, in any sort of scenario.”

“Yeah, like, lyrics don’t always necessarily have to come from a place of experience,” YN adds on, professionally keeping her voice from wavering in nervousness. “It certainly helps but that’s not always the case. Especially now.”

She can’t help but laugh along with the rest of the crowd as James holds an expression like he doesn’t believe a word they said.

“Okay, fine. Deny it all you want,” James puts his hands up defensively. “I just...I don’t know, I just think that this could really be Something Great.”

The room of fans (and die hard ynrry shippers) squeal and scream out in a mixture of excitement and disbelief from his use of the One Direction songs that are heavily speculated to be about YN and Harry. 

“Whatever, it’s your guy’s decision at the End of the Day,” James continues nonchalantly, trying to hide the smile that shows that he knows exactly what he’s doing. 

Fans’ eyes bounce back and forth between the two band members in question. They see as YN has her hands clasped together on her crossed legs, biting the inside of her cheek to keep her witty comments to herself. Harry, on the other hand, leans his elbow on his knee with his index finger over his smirk. He tries to cover up his chuckle with a cough to his fist before pushing back his long curls. 

“All we want is for you guys to live Happily ever after, is all.”

2017:

“Now, both of you little sneaky sneaks went to Jamaica together to make his album. Come on, tell me I’m wrong,” Nick Grimshaw teases, wiggling his fingers in a beckoning motion.

The two were currently on BBC Radio with their good friend that they’ve known since their days in the band. Dropping their first solo albums in the same week caused their fan bases to go into a frantic frenzy. The two have a full day ahead of them as their record labels and management teams paired the two up for a day jam-packed with press and interviews together.

“You are not wrong,” Harry laughs, adjusting the chunky headphones over his ears. He’s already rolled up his white button-up sleeves and discarded his picnic table-looking blazer to lay on the back of his chair.

“Sneaky sneaks?” YN chuckles next to him, leaning her elbows on the counter and moving her hips to rotate her swiveling seat from side to side.

“Well, I only say that because you guys are obviously dating now, right?”

“Do girl and guy best friends always have to be dating?” YN easily swerves the question back to the radio host.

“Well,” Grimmy tilts his head from side to side. “Not necessarily, but wouldn’t that be a good story? For your future kiddos perhaps?”

YN and Harry bark out a laugh.

“Sorry, m’getting ahead of myself. Maybe you lads would want to save that for your wedding day instead.”

“Can I swear on the radio?” YN playfully yet genuinely asks the host which makes Harry giggle.

“But I mean, what are your fans—and quite frankly, the rest of the world—supposed to think when a good majority of the songs on his album are about you, Miss Two Ghosts?” Nick teases with a wiggle of his eyebrow.

YN’s jaw humorously drops, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips as a nervous laugh threatens to escape. The two knew that they would get poked and pried with questions and accusations like this since their trip to Jamaica. There’s no use in trying to deny their close relationship with one another, spending more time with one another than any of their fellow band members since the start of the hiatus. 

Unable to quickly come up with an explanation, being so caught off guard, she turns to the only other person she can trust. 

“Jenny?” YN playfully calls for her manager who’s behind the glass window of the radio studio, leaning forward to look at her despite Harry in the way. 

“Help me, Jeffery,” Harry playfully pleads to his manager as well.

“No, no Jeffery. Jenny, get back in your chair, young lady.” Nick points out for the listeners who can’t see what’s currently happening. “Alright, I’ll stop, I’ll stop,” The host waves his hands, seeing the two visually calm down at the news. “Now, I’ll just play the one Harry wrote about YN. This is Two Ghosts!”

Harry playfully yells out an “Oh, no!” as he pushes himself away from the desk. YN lets out a humored scream at the same time, taking off her chunky radio headphones and tossing them onto the desk. 

2020:

“Okay, a big question that I’ve been getting on Twitter since it was announced that the two of you would be on here today,” Roman Kemp waves a hand in front of him at the Capital FM Breakfast Radio headquarters as he looks onto the two pop stars in front of him on the Zoom call. The couple can be seen in two separate rooms: Harry in a naturally lit room while YN sits against one of the brick walls in her bedroom.

Harry has his purple robe on that his girlfriend gifted him a couple of years ago, looking as comfy as ever since he doesn’t have to get dressed up to go outside for anything lately due to being on lockdown. 

YN on the other hand, didn’t want to miss the opportunity to get dolled up. Well, at least from the waist up. She wears one of her silk button-up blouses with her last name embroidered on the left chest, her hair neatly done up in a slick ponytail and her make-up nicely done. When she got complimented on her look, she clumsily lifted her leg up to show off her heart-decorated, fluffy pajama pants.

“And I feel like both of your fan bases combined would come out of quarantine to quite literally murder me if I don’t ask you guys this...” YN and Harry keep a mutual face on as they wait to hear what the host has to say. “We all know that you guys are an official couple now, but are you guys physically staying together at the moment? Like, are you guys living together or at the same house or...?”

The couple takes a second to process the intimate question. As Harry parts his lips to answer, he’s interrupted by his girlfriend speaking first. 

“Y’know, we’re kind of tired of getting questions like this. I don’t think it’s really appropriate for other people to know about that kind of stuff,” The crease between YN’s eyebrows becomes more apparent and her shoulders move sharply after letting out a deep sigh.

“Oh, I-I’m so sorry if I offended you guys—” The radio host quickly begins to retract.

“M’sorry but I think m’actually gonna log off now. Erm, thank you for having us.” YN curtly nods before the host and Harry’s faces fill the screen, both with wide eyes at the unexpected reaction from the go-happy pop star.

“Wait, did that really just happen?” Roman and the other two interviewers are deers in headlights, his eyes bouncing around the screen to make sure what just took place. 

“I think so,” Harry sighs. “It’s just a sensitive topic for us, y’know. I can’t really blame her for what she did,” He professionally hides his smile as he hears the quick pad of footsteps coming down her spiral staircase.

“I really meant no harm, it’s just—”

“It’s just really hard to keep our private life private, you know?” Harry drags on with a deep sigh. “And it's just really hard for us to have to answer things like this. Like, we don’t really know what you guys expect us to do when...” Harry’s dimples dig into his cheeks, a boyish giggle comes tumbling past his lips when YN peaks her head sideways in front of his laptop camera.

“YN!” Romans scolds with a bright smile, infinitely relieved he didn’t just make enemies with the world’s favorite female pop star. He dramatically throws a hand over his heart.

“Sorry, I’m sorry! It was just too good and Ro, I think you’re the only one that would be able to handle a joke like that.” YN laughs as she slides in close to her comfy-looking boyfriend.

“So I’m assuming this confirms my previous question?” The host asks excitedly.

“Yeah,” Harry smiles fondly at his love, discreetly wrapping an arm around her waist that’s low enough to not be shown on camera. “We’ve been living at YN’s place in LA for a couple of weeks now. And yeah, it’s been fun.”

2022:

In a full black suit, Harry is escorted to the next interviewer on the red carpet for the premiere of My Policeman. After a couple of initial questions, the eager woman asks, “Last thing before you get whisked away, on behalf of the fandom and everyone else on this planet, we just want to send a massive amount of love to you and YN.”

“Thank you very much,” He nods, putting a hand over his heart and trying his hardest to keep the growing smile on his face at bay. 

“And we are all just dying to know,” She takes a quick, excited glance back to the camera. “If you’re going to drop the big question soon?”

Harry can’t help but huff out a laugh, the kind where his dimples dig into his cheeks and the crows feet appear next to his eyes. If they only knew that YN kept the ring he gave her—the ring that signifies their promise to become husband and wife on their anniversary—at home for the sake of privacy and for this very reason. 

“Um,” He looks up in fake contemplation before giving her a cheeky shrug. “I dunno. Maybe. Maybe not. Who knows?”

“Well, best of luck to you both.”

After being escorted away, the camera doesn’t stop filming Harry as he goes over to stand next to his fiancée on the red carpet. Although the camera can’t pick up what YN says to Emma Corin that makes the actress laugh, her beaming smile turns to Harry when she feels his hand on her back. He can’t hold back from planting a loving peck on her cheek before the two are escorted to their next section on the red carpet. 

2023:

On a show in Cardiff, Harry adjusts a flag on his shoulder as he walks around the catwalk on stage. As he begins to sing Satellite, he makes a stop to sing to a group by the barricade. 

It’s nothing new to YN and Harry’s respective shows when fans bring signs with something on it to get the artists’ attention. Honestly, it’s become one of the parts of the show they look forward to the most.

So when Harry’s eyes move over to a newly raised sign that says ‘shag?’ on it, he breaks out into a smirk. Part of the fun of when fans bring signs is that there’s always a handful that asks these sorts of questions: Are you single? Can I have your number? Are you dating? 

It’s not so much the content written on the signs that makes the interaction so enjoyable; it’s the response that he gives. 

Because all Harry does is break out into that dimpled, love sick smile that YN can’t get enough of and happily points to his wedding band.

.

.

Taglist:

@ashtongivesmebutterflies @cacapeepee

(let me know if you want to be added to the taglist 💚)

[vacayisland]

Could you do a John Dory x Retired Singer/Musician Reader? Pls and thank you

(I loved meet the wifie I fucking cackled at "imma beat his ass!")

@!; Oldies are always better. John Dory / Retired! Reader

"Tag List"! @writergal02 @chamille-trash @valvalentine69 @starzwithapen @ykvlanq @apieceofcathair3 @kitthefanfickat

ꨄ︎. You were a big alt-indie musician, making music that tended to have a little bit of everything; the funk and beat of the funk tribe and the techno tribe, the guitar riffs and drum solos from the rock tribe, some classical instruments as undertones, and pop-like lyrics and beats. All the while you also put your own spin on it. Music had always been an outlet for you, always allowed you to take what was in your head and thread it into sound for everyone to hear. Sometimes it was chaotic, sometimes it was mellow, and it always depended on your mood when writing, composing, and singing. It's usually was drew people to your music. It was down to Earth, yet also complex and simple at the same time. Those who wanted to dive into the meaning of your music and dissect it would find multiple layers, many undertones that all harmonized. Those who just wanted to vibe out to your music could do that as well.

ꨄ︎. When you had left your career behind, it wasn't because of anything bad. You left with one final song in which explained that you were stepping down to let the new generation to find their own flow, to let other people take the stage, to be able to sit back and enjoy everything that will come in the future. You were only around 24 when you put down your guitar for the final time for the public; But you never gave up music for good on your own. While you never published anything anymore, you kept writing and composing for yourself as it was truly your passion.

ꨄ︎. This is when JD found you, playing in a friend's cafe. You had caught his attention right away, so much so he didn't hear the waiter when he had asked for JD's order. He was honestly so captivated by you for a moment he wondered if you were some sort of siren. He soon realized, yeah no you weren't, you just were really, really good. And he needed your number, badly. And that sounded a little creepy, but when you see someone who's not only good looking but knows how to sing and play an instrument all in one? You don't miss that chance to talk them up, and JD was defiantly not missing his chance!

ꨄ︎. JD didn't see a ring on your finger, it was fair game for him. Luckily you hadn't been seeing anyone at the time, but you still gave him a reality check after he approached you as though he was the coolest guy on the planet; Introducing himself before using some sort of cheesy pick up line to get your number. "Hey, babe, my name is John Dory and you seem rather lonely. You know, I can fill that 'me' shaped hole in your heart if you give me your number!" And then he winked!? Your friend was flabbergasted. You thought he was really brave.

ꨄ︎. And you hate to admit that his stupid pick-up line (which didn't even seem like a pick-up line!) actually worked and he got your number. (And he would be so smug and proud about this fact for the rest of his life.)

ꨄ︎. You two talked for a few months before making anything official, and then you waited about a year or two before you two even thought about moving in together. Even so, by 6 months of dating you basically lived in Rhonda; Your stuff littered his home, you had your own set of clothes there, your own toothbrush, and even your own house slippers. Then when you moved in, it felt natural. It felt like this was where you were always meant to end up and somehow the planets aligned. And for some reason JD never noticed the fact you brought in an electric guitar, which also sat in your shared closet. Sometimes you wonder if he's just stupid or a little blind, because he's also seen your play.

ꨄ︎. Either way, one day when he was hoisting his brothers over (after the whole Floyd situation got resolved, and god you were kind of glad you were staying with friends during all of that; not because you didn't like his brothers but because you didn't think you could handle meeting his family during that whole situation.) when they heard you playing your guitar in the bedroom. You weren't doing anything fancy, mostly tuning the guitar and making sure the strings didn't need to be replaced. But, of course, that always had to include one of your most iconic guitar riffs from a song about fighting your crushing mentality during the lowest part of your career. "Holy shit dude, I didn't know your lover listened to (Y/N)!" Branch would be the first to comment, being the most diverse music listener in the family. Floyd, who had been distracted by the riff, perked up at the conversation and nodded in agreement. JD only gave them a confused look, leaning against his kitchen counter, "Dude, my lover is (Y/N)?" And JD wasn't sure what to expect, but it wasn't all four of his brothers stopping and staring at him completely baffled. Mostly Floyd and Branch, who soon yelled a rather loud, "WHAT?!" "What?!" Which only confused JD more.

ꨄ︎. You hadn't met JD's family before this point, but you've heard all about them; Not only from JD, when he told you about his band days, and when you heard them around the trailer when they would come over. Usually you stayed in the bedroom, not to be rude yet to just let JD have his time with his brothers. Yet, you couldn't understand what all the yelling was about, "Yo, Que te pasa? Why the hell are you guys yelling?" You would ask, poking your head out of the door to the bedroom. Your expression tired, your hair messier, yet you could care less at this moment; You were sure JD's brothers wouldn't mind, they would see you worse later on since you were planning to stay with that big doofus. "Oh my god-" You flinched when Floyd dropped the cup he was holding, his jaw dropping upon seeing you; And honestly, for a second, you forgot you used to be a big artist. "John Dory," You started, startled by the reactions his brothers were giving, "Vas a decirme lo que esta pasando ahora mismo."

ꨄ︎. JD is always a little intimidated when you speak Spanish, mostly because his Grandma used to scold him and his brothers in Spanish. So he only explained (rather quickly) how his brothers had heard you tuning your guitar in the bedroom and how they just got weird. And that's when Branch defended himself, along with Floyd, how JD never told them that you were his lover! "And what's it to you that I love your brother?" You shot back quick and snappy, crossing your arms as you shot a glare their way. You weren't above throwing hands with JD's brothers. Floyd noticed the way JD glanced away, sipping his coffee. He was quick to stand up, placing a hand on Branch's shoulder to calm him, before explaining the whole situation to you better; Saying how Branch and Floyd were just big fans of your music and they didn't realize that you were with JD, because no matter how much JD spoke about you he never told them that you were his lover.

ꨄ︎. "Oh, Mierda lo siento." God, this made things a little awkward, "I thought you were about to be one of those horrible step-siblings that didn't like his brother's lover for some dumb reason like my hair." "What? No!-" "No, yeah, I see that now. My bad, really sorry." You mumbled, rubbing the back of your neck, "JD can be really, really dense sometimes, shut it John Dory!," You pointed a finger at JD before he could make a peep in protest about your slight insult, but it was made out of full love. "Let's start over, hi I'm (Y/n) and it's really nice to meet you."

ꨄ︎. Safe to say, JD forgot to tell his brothers that he was dating an old sensational artist...and kind of forgot you were one and was very shocked to realize this! Furthermore, you were a little flabbergasted when he revealed that some of BroZone's songs were influenced by your music. You would stare at JD after he confessed such a large secret, "Wow... that's a big insult." You mumbled sarcastically under your breath. "EXCUSE ME?!" But you guessed JD missed the sarcasm. "I'm being sarcastic, love. That's kind of sweet." Playfully rolling your eyes, you pressed a kiss into JD's cheek before turning back to his brothers. You crossed your legs, rested your elbow against your knee, and held your face in your hands. "Now about you four, how about we get to actually know each other. I'm planning to remain in this family after all..."

ꨄ︎. Safe to say that JD is wifing/husbanding/etc. you up really quick.

ꨄ︎. He still brags about how he first got your number and how he managed to 'snatch you up' before anyone else could. You told him he's too old to use new lingo and to stop, lovingly of course as you didn't want your 'husband' to embarrass himself. He melted hearing you call him husband before getting a bigger ego boost; And you had fun watching him terrorize his siblings while his ego was so inflated. You even jokingly did the whole 'I'm watching you' eyes to one of his brothers (Clay) as a silent threat that this is how you were always going to hand JD off to them like. He gave you the biggest (playful) stink eye ever. Yeah, you're going to fit right into this family.

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D

[greyyson-but-no]

softer, softest

; lmao you get shot ; typical b99 happenings ; show me going but a tad different ; she/her reader ; 16+ ;

holt's speech hadn't helped much, but jake expected there wasn't anything that could help him ease his mind at the moment. five hours ago, an announcement on the radio called about an active shooter situation, and your name, alongside a badge number, had echoed through the radio, pricking at the ears of the nine-nine's interest and instilling a deep sense of fear through all of them. all, but especially one in particular.

the squad didn't know about you and jake yet. it had only been a couple months, neither of you had been sure yet and the rest of the group knowing could only danger things worse. an agreement had been made to not tell anyone.

all it meant now, though, was that everyone was even more confused at jake's worry for you. the way his knee bounced, ends of his fingers tapping against the desk as he tried to focus on the current b&e he was working on. the crew were confused because, yeah, it made sense he was worried but they had never seen him this worried before.

jake needed to do something, and soon. more and more announcements on the radio were coming through with different codes and updates on what was happening, but none of it of any interest to them. for the first time since he bought the phone, he had it on pinging, just in case you called, or someone called on your behalf.

every phone call that came through on someone's desk had everyone sitting up to see who it was. even holt had turned off his new york philharmonic orchestra recording that he always had playing, in order to focus on the radio and any call that came through for him.

terry came through the elevator, holding a pile of pizzas in one hand, and charles followed behind, holding enough cups of coffee for everyone. "listen guys, i know none of us are going to leave this place until we hear back from y/n, so charles and i went and got pizza and coffee for the squad. eat up."

the two went around putting the food and drinks around the desk, but along the way, terry noticed jake just staring at his desk, pupils glazed over. he took a pizza and coffee over to him, sitting down at the chair beside his desk.

"y'alright jake?" he spoke, pushing the coffee towards the cop.

jake just hummed, shaking his head out of his funk and picking up the pen again to continue writing. terry was too fast, though, plucking the pen from his hands and continuing to push the coffee further towards him.

"drink it, jake, and eat the pizza, it's nearly 8pm and i haven't seen you eat since your breakfast." he pushed.

he shook his head. "m'fine."

terry almost laughed, raising an eyebrow at him. "yeah, clearly. listen, i know you're worried about her, we all are, but there's nothing we can do. she's strong, she can handle herself. you have to trust the people there and you have to trust her."

"i appreciate the sentiment, sarge, but you don't understand." he spoke, shaking his head and finally accepting the coffee, taking a sip of it as terry furrowed his eyebrows at jake.

"what do you mean?"

jake looked up and around at the precinct. rosa and amy were stood around charles' desk, trying to cheer each other up while talking about a weird case form a couple weeks ago. hitchcock and scully were, as usual, oblivious to the whole situation, and gina was chatting with holt in his office. they all had such a good relationship, they were a family.

but it was clearly still missing you, jake knew that. he thought to himself for a bit, then turned back to the sergeant, shrugging at him and not knowing how to traverse the conversation. "how would you feel if sharon was a cop and she got in an active shooter situation like this?"

"i'd storm into the place and make sure she was safe." he hadn't yet caught on, but the cogs were certainly turning.

"and holt has told me to do the exact opposite. can you see why i'm so antsy now?" jake had reached a stage of worry so new he had just sort of, shut down. his voice was low, calm, and he shrugged as he spoke.

terry shook his head. "but you and y/n, aren't-" he paused. "are you?"

that same second, holt came storming out of his office, on the phone with someone. it caught everyone's attention, and diverted jake and terry away from the conversation they were having. the phone call seemed urgent, and the way holt had come out of his room told everyone they could assuming it was about the shoot situation, and probably even more so about you.

he put down the phone in his pocket. "y/n has ben shot. they don't think it's fatal but she's on the way to the hospital now, i think we should all go."

jake was the first one to stand up and grab his coat, opting for the stairs over the elevator.

you laid peacefully in the hospital bed, shoulder wrapped up from where the bullet had hit you. it was weird. jake thought it was weird, he'd truly never seen you so peaceful before. even when you had stayed over at his, you'd moved around in your sleep. but it had been three days now, your body needing time to recover from the blood loss, and you hadn't moved in inch.

the doctor said you would wake up soon. the rest of the squad had been needed back at the precinct, but at the news of you and jake being an item, holt had given permission for him to stay - charles had even bought him over some case files to work on while he waited for you.

he was currently working on the same b&e he had been trying to finish the paperwork for when you first got shot. there were only a couple things to fill in to finalize the case, but he just wanted to get it done. and now knowing you were alive and would wake soon, he was able to concentrate on it more than previously.

it was as jake put the file back down on the table, after having filled in the last box, when you shuffled yourself under the hospital covers. you murmured, catching jake's attention, as he shuffled himself to sit up in his chair. oh my god, you were waking up.

"fuck-" you coughed, eyes opening to the bright lights of your hospital room. he chuckled, pulling his chair closer to the bed. "what the fuck happened?"

the grin on his face was something else, seeing you, awake and talking, he felt like his heart could burst. "hey honey."

lifting your head up a bit, you started to get a better idea of your surroundings, feeling the dull ache around your shoulder and the bandage wrapped around it. "i got shot, didn't i?"

"yes, you did." he had a soft smile on his face now, taking your hand in his as he let you wake up a bit. "you've been out three days."

your eyes widened at the news, shaking your head. "what?"

"i've never seen someone need so much sleep." he laughed, squeezing your hand.

"no, no." you stopped him, his smile dropping as you did so, letting yourself sit up slightly as you turned towards him, eyebrows furrowed as you went to speak. "jake, have you been here three days?"

the detective paused, eyes widening. he looked towards his girlfriend as he realized that he had, in fact, stayed here three days, in the same clothes, eating food from the vending machine at the end of the corridor, and sleeping on the chair he was sat in right now. he had never done that for anybody before - he never would have even thought of doing it for anyone else before.

but you had been shot. you were in an active shooter situation, already in danger, and then you had had someone shoot a bullet directly into your shoulder. you must have been so scared, no one else from the nine-nine you knew, he didn't want you to wake up by yourself, without knowing what happened or where you exactly were.

"yes?"

you sighed, a blissful smile on your lips as you resting a hand on his cheek. "oh jake, you beautiful bastard."

he laughed. "a very odd take on a very loving relationship, but okay."

"i love you." you smiled, realising that you hadn't said it before, but if there was ever a time for it more than now, you would eat your hat. it was the perfect moment. "and you don't have to say it back, i know-"

"i love you too." he grinned, bringing you forward to press a kiss to your forehead. "oh, and the whole squad know about us now."

shrugging, you let yourself fall backwards into the pillows, jake resting back into his own chair. "eh, it's fine now, i supposed. i mean, i just told you i loved you and i don't plan on going anywhere so i don't see why they can't know."

jake laughed, smiling at you with a look he'd never sent anyone else before, "yeah, me neither."

[niallerspayno]

Last First Kiss (Zayn Malik x reader) - Fic Request

Anonymous request: I really enjoy your writing! Could I maybe suggest a One direction x reader, or a Zayn x reader, Where reader is a ‘late-bloomer’? Maybe she’s in her early 20s (20-21) and she admits she’s never had a boyfriend, or lost her first kiss. She just feels like so stupid , while the boys are talking about their first kisses and she’s like ‘well I’ve never had one’.

Tags: Zayn x reader, Harry x sister!reader, fluff, light angst

Masterlist

You’re sitting at the kitchen table, half-heartedly scrolling through your phone when Harry’s familiar voice rings out from the hallway. “Oi, where are you?”

“In here,” you reply without looking up.

Harry steps into the kitchen, his green eyes immediately narrowing as he takes in your slumped posture. “Alright, what’s up with you?”

“Nothing’s up,” you mutter, flicking through your phone to avoid his gaze.

“That’s the worst lie I’ve heard all week.” He pulls out the chair across from you, plopping into it with a thud. “You’ve been like this for days. Tell me what’s going on, or I’ll just annoy you until you do.”

You groan, finally setting your phone down. “It’s nothing, really. I’ve just been in a funk, that’s all.”

Harry doesn’t look convinced, but he doesn’t push. Instead, he leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Fine. If you won’t talk about it, I’ve got a solution. You’re coming with me tonight—movie night at Zayn’s.”

You blink. “What?”

“Zayn’s place. The boys and I planned it yesterday. Snacks, pizza, the whole deal. And you’re coming.”

“Why would I—”

“Because you’ve been sulking,” Harry interrupts, leaning forward. “And because you need to get out of the house. The guys love having you around, and it’ll do you some good to laugh a bit.”

“I don’t know,” you say hesitantly.

“I do,” Harry says firmly. “And anyway, I already told them you’re coming, so you’re stuck.”

“Harry!”

He smirks, standing up and ruffling your hair before you can swat his hand away. “Be ready by seven. Dress comfy.”

You huff as he walks away, but there’s a small part of you that feels… lighter. Maybe Harry’s right. A night with him and the boys might be just what you need.

...

You step onto the porch of Zayn’s house, your heart thudding in your chest. The warm glow of lights spills out from the windows, and you can hear the faint sound of laughter from inside. You take a deep breath, clutching the plate of cookies Harry insisted you bring as if it’s a lifeline.

Before you can knock, the door swings open, and Zayn is there, holding the handle with one hand and a warm smile with the other. He looks effortlessly casual in a gray hoodie and black joggers, but somehow he still manages to make it look cool.

“Hey,” he says, his voice low and smooth, the kind that wraps around you like a soft blanket. “You made it.”

You nod quickly, clutching the plate tighter. “Uh, yeah. Harry kind of didn’t give me a choice.” You manage a small laugh, but you can feel your cheeks heating up under his gaze.

Zayn chuckles, stepping aside to let you in. “Sounds about right. Come in—it’s freezing out there.”

You step inside, immediately enveloped by the warmth of the house and the faint, earthy scent that seems to cling to Zayn no matter where he is. The living room is cozy, with mismatched blankets draped over the couches and an assortment of snacks spread out on the coffee table.

“You can put those in the kitchen,” Zayn says, nodding to the cookies. “Follow me.”

You trail behind him, feeling a little out of place as your gaze darts around the room. The house is everything you’d imagine Zayn’s place to be—artsy and effortlessly cool, with little details that make it uniquely his.

In the kitchen, he gestures toward the counter. “Right there’s fine.”

You set the plate down carefully, suddenly hyperaware of how close he’s standing.

“Thanks for bringing these,” Zayn says, leaning against the counter. He crosses his arms, his dark eyes lingering on you for a beat longer than feels casual. “You alright? You seem a bit quiet.”

Your stomach flips, and you quickly shake your head. “Oh, I’m fine. Just, um, not used to hanging out with everyone like this.”

“Fair enough,” he says, his lips quirking into a small smile. “But you don’t have to be nervous. It’s just us lot, you know? We’re all idiots.”

You laugh softly at that, and Zayn’s smile grows.

“Come on,” he says, pushing off the counter. “They’re already taking bets on who’s gonna fall asleep first.”

“Let me guess—Niall?” you say, feeling a little more at ease.

“Always Niall,” Zayn replies with a smirk, leading the way back to the living room.

As soon as you step in, all eyes turn to you.

“Finally!” Louis exclaims, throwing his arms up in mock exasperation. “Harry told us you were coming, but I was starting to think you didn’t exist.”

“Louis, shut it,” Harry groans, flopping onto the couch. “Don’t scare her off.”

You give a small smile, suddenly feeling all too aware of yourself. You hover near the edge of the room, unsure where to sit until Zayn nudges your arm gently.

“Here,” he says, gesturing to an empty spot on the couch next to him. “Plenty of room.”

Your pulse quickens, but you nod and sit down, careful to leave a small gap between you. The lively chatter quickly resumes, and you do your best to blend into the conversation, though you’re hyper-aware of Zayn’s presence beside you. Every now and then, your eyes meet, and his quiet smiles send your heart into overdrive.

The room hums with easy laughter and the rustle of snack wrappers as everyone settles in. Harry flips through the streaming options, muttering complaints about how long it’s taking. “Why is everything either a rom-com or a zombie apocalypse? Can’t there be a middle ground?”

“Rom-com,” Louis says immediately, grinning. “Gotta keep things light for the kids.”

“Don’t you dare,” Niall warns, tossing a pillow in Louis’ direction. “We’ve had enough of those lately. What about a classic action movie?”

“I’m just here for the pizza,” Liam says, waving a slice to emphasize his point.

“Same,” you add quietly, earning a laugh from Liam and a teasing cheer from Louis.

“Pizza lovers unite!” Louis declares, holding his slice aloft as if it’s a trophy.

As the debate continues, Zayn leans toward you slightly, his shoulder brushing yours. “Let me guess—you’re secretly rooting for the rom-com?”

You glance at him, caught off guard by the closeness. “I, uh… I don’t really mind, honestly.”

“Hmm,” Zayn hums, a small smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Before you can reply, Harry finally settles on a movie—some superhero flick that earns mixed reactions but no protests loud enough to change his mind.

As the opening credits roll, the room falls into a comfortable quiet, save for the occasional crunch of popcorn or the sound of Louis whispering sarcastic commentary. You find yourself relaxing bit by bit, though your attention keeps wandering to Zayn. The way he’s leaning back, his arm resting casually along the back of the couch. The way his fingers drum lightly against his knee during the action scenes.

Halfway through the movie, a particularly over-the-top romantic subplot unfolds on-screen, prompting Louis to groan dramatically. “This is exactly why I said no rom-coms! Even the action movies aren’t safe anymore.”

“Oh, come off it,” Harry says, rolling his eyes. “It’s not that bad.”

“It’s cringe,” Louis argues. “Look at them—they’ve got no chemistry. Their first kiss is gonna be terrible, guaranteed.”

“Speaking of,” Niall cuts in, grinning mischievously. “Anyone else got a terrible first kiss story? Or was it just me?”

The group bursts into laughter, and suddenly everyone is chiming in, sharing tales of awkward kisses and teenage embarrassment. You sit quietly, hoping no one will notice your lack of input, but you’re not that lucky.

“What about you?” Louis asks, pointing at you with a curious look. “C’mon, spill.”

Your stomach twists as all eyes turn to you. You glance nervously at Harry, who looks more amused than anything, and then at Zayn, whose expression is unreadable.

“I, uh…” You clear your throat, feeling your face heat up. “I haven’t, um, had a first kiss yet.”

The room goes silent for a moment before Louis gasps dramatically. “No way! Harry, did you know about this?”

Harry raises his hands defensively. “Don’t look at me—I don’t keep track of her romantic life.”

“Well, someone’s gotta fix this,” Louis declares, earning a chorus of groans from the others.

“Leave her alone, Louis,” Liam says, giving you a reassuring smile.

“Yeah, mate, don’t embarrass her,” Niall adds, tossing another pillow at Louis for good measure.

You sink lower into your seat, wishing the floor would swallow you up, but then you feel a light nudge against your arm. You glance over to find Zayn looking at you, his gaze soft and kind.

“Don’t worry about it,” he says quietly, his voice low enough that only you can hear. “It’ll happen when it’s meant to.”

His words send a strange warmth through you, and you manage a small, grateful smile in return.

The group’s laughter gradually subsides, though Louis is still pretending to be scandalized by your admission. “I mean, really, Harry. You’ve let her go this long without some proper guidance? What kind of big brother are you?”

Harry snorts, tossing a popcorn kernel at him. “It’s not my job to manage her love life, is it?”

“Maybe it should be,” Louis quips. “What if she ends up with some dodgy bloke? You’ll regret not stepping in.”

You groan, burying your face in your hands. “Can we please talk about something else?”

“No way, this is important,” Louis says, wagging a finger in mock seriousness. “Who do we think would be the best first kiss candidate? Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

“Louis, shut it,” Zayn mutters, his voice carrying a hint of warning.

But Louis ignores him, already grinning as he glances around the room. “Let’s see… Zayn, Liam, Niall—solid contenders. But me, obviously, the best choice. I’d be gentle.”

Harry rolls his eyes. “Yeah, no. If she had to kiss someone in this room, it’s definitely not you.”

The room erupts with laughter as Louis clutches his chest in exaggerated offense. “Excuse me? What’s wrong with me?”

“Where do I start?” Harry shoots back, smirking. “Too loud. Too much hair gel. Terrible influence.”

Louis gasps, dramatically throwing a blanket over himself. “I’m hurt, mate. Truly.”

“Alright, alright,” Liam cuts in, chuckling. “So who would you pick, Harry?”

Harry shrugs, clearly not realizing the chaos he’s about to cause. “I don’t know. Zayn, maybe. Liam. Niall. They’re all decent blokes. But definitely not Louis.”

“Unbelievable!” Louis cries, throwing the blanket off with a flourish.

The room dissolves into chaos as Louis starts listing all his “best qualities,” and Niall nearly chokes on his drink from laughing too hard. But you? You feel like you’re about to melt into the couch.

You steal a glance at Zayn, hoping he didn’t take the comment seriously, but he’s leaning back, looking completely unbothered. Still, there’s a flicker of something in his eyes when he meets your gaze, something that makes your stomach flip.

“Can we please drop this topic now?” you plead, your voice quieter than you’d like.

“Fine, fine,” Louis says, waving his hand dismissively. “But only because it’s movie night and I’m feeling generous.”

The conversation shifts back to the film, and you take a deep breath, trying to calm the flush in your cheeks. But no matter how hard you try to focus, you can’t shake the warmth of Zayn’s lingering glance or the way his presence beside you seems to make the room feel smaller.

The movie continues in the background, but your attention is completely elsewhere. You can feel Zayn beside you, his presence impossible to ignore. His quiet energy seems to draw you in, making it harder to focus on anything else.

As the movie reaches a particularly dramatic moment, you excuse yourself, standing up quickly and moving toward the kitchen. You need a moment away from all the noise, the teasing, the questions about your first kiss. The kitchen is quiet, the only sounds the hum of the refrigerator and the distant chatter from the living room.

You take a deep breath, trying to calm your racing thoughts. You never expected a simple movie night to turn into something that would make you feel so… exposed.

“You okay?”

You jump slightly at the sound of Zayn’s voice, realizing too late that he’s followed you into the kitchen. His figure leans casually against the doorframe, his dark eyes searching yours with quiet concern.

You swallow hard, trying to steady your breath. “Yeah. Just needed a second. That conversation… it was a lot.”

Zayn takes a step forward, his gaze soft but intense. “I get it. It can be awkward, yeah?” His voice is quiet, almost as if he’s trying to make you feel at ease.

You nod, trying to shake off the embarrassment that’s still clinging to you. “It’s just… I don’t know. I don’t want everyone to think it’s a big deal.”

Zayn steps closer, his presence now filling the small space between you. “It’s only a big deal if you make it one,” he says gently. His voice lowers even more, his tone softening as he adds, “And you don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

You look up at him, your breath catching at how close he is. There’s something in his eyes—something warm, something that makes you feel both nervous and safe all at once.

“I’m sorry,” you mumble, your gaze dropping to the floor. “I didn’t mean to be a buzzkill. I just…”

Zayn tilts your chin up gently with his finger, his touch surprisingly tender. “Hey,” he says, his voice steady, “there’s no need to apologize. You’re allowed to feel however you feel. You don’t have to explain yourself to anyone.”

Your heart skips a beat as his thumb brushes across your jaw, sending a shiver down your spine. The silence between you two stretches out, thick with unspoken words. You find yourself caught in the moment, your mind racing, unsure of what to say or do next.

Zayn seems to notice, his gaze flickering down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. “You know,” he says softly, his voice almost a whisper, “you don’t have to worry about what anyone thinks. Not with me, anyway.”

Before you can process his words, there’s a soft knock at the kitchen doorframe. Louis’ voice cuts through the tension. “Oi, you two gonna make out in here or are you coming back to the movie?”

You both turn quickly, and Zayn lets out a quiet laugh, his fingers brushing yours one last time before he steps away. “Yeah, we’re coming.”

Louis grins, oblivious to the charged moment that just passed between you and Zayn. “Good, because Harry’s threatening to restart the whole thing without you.”

You glance at Zayn, feeling the heat of your cheeks intensify, but he simply smiles at you—a soft, reassuring smile that only seems to make your heart race faster.

“Let’s go,” he says, his voice steady, though there’s an unreadable warmth behind it.

As the credits roll on the movie, everyone starts stretching and yawning, but no one seems in a hurry to leave. Louis, ever the drama king, plops back down on the couch, a grin plastered on his face.

“Alright, who’s up for some karaoke?” he announces loudly, his finger pointing toward Niall as if it’s an accusation. “Niall, I know you’re dying to sing. It’s your time to shine, mate.”

Niall groans in response. “I swear, every time we do this, I end up being the one who has to belt out some ridiculous pop song.”

“That’s because you’re the best at it!” Louis insists, already scrolling through the karaoke app on his phone. “Come on, Liam. I know you’ve got a hidden talent for the classics.”

Liam rolls his eyes but laughs, shaking his head. “Only if I get to choose the song, mate. And no high notes this time.”

Harry, lounging on the opposite side of the couch, shrugs and looks at you and Zayn. “You two in for some impromptu performances?”

You glance over at Zayn, who’s leaning back comfortably with his arm along the back of the couch, looking far too relaxed for someone who’s about to be subjected to a full karaoke session.

“Why not,” Zayn says with a shrug, his voice low and easy. “But I’ll warn you now, I’m not singing anything unless it’s a good song.”

“I’m here for the laughs,” you say, trying to mask the slight nerves still buzzing through you. The tension hasn’t completely dissipated from earlier, but you’re grateful for the distraction, even if it’s just an excuse to stay close to Zayn.

Louis starts off with a bang, belting out a ridiculous pop song that’s a mix of comedic and surprisingly decent. Niall hesitantly joins in on the chorus, and soon the living room is filled with laughter, terrible high notes, and lots of playful bickering.

Despite the chaos around you, you can’t seem to shake the awareness of Zayn sitting so close beside you. His arm brushes against yours occasionally, but every time it happens, you feel it in your chest, like a spark. He doesn’t pull away, though, and the subtle closeness between you two is enough to make the noise in the room feel muffled, like it’s all happening in the background while you and he exist in your own little bubble.

Zayn leans forward, eyes lighting up as Niall picks the next song—a classic rock anthem. “I’ve got this one,” Zayn murmurs to you, his voice barely audible over the music. He moves to stand up but then pauses, glancing at you. “You sure you’re good with this?” he asks, his voice laced with something softer than the playful banter in the air.

You nod quickly, trying not to let the heat rushing to your face give you away. “Yeah. Just—just don’t make it worse than it already is.”

Zayn grins, his eyes glimmering with mischief. “No promises.” He’s teasing, but there’s something else behind his smile, a quiet warmth that makes you feel like maybe the night is just beginning to get interesting.

The rest of the boys keep going, and though you try to focus on the singing and laughing, you find yourself still drawn to Zayn, who keeps glancing at you from time to time with that same amused, yet serious look. Every few minutes, his knee brushes yours, and each time, you feel that spark of something you can’t ignore.

Eventually, Louis starts urging everyone into a group sing-along, and the idea of a huge chaotic karaoke number somehow brings you all closer together. The mood shifts, the energy relaxed and carefree, but underneath it all, there’s a subtle undercurrent of something else between you and Zayn.

You catch him looking at you once more, the noise from the living room feels like it’s miles away when Zayn’s eyes lock onto yours. The room around you suddenly fading into the background. You can feel the weight of the moment settling in, an unspoken tension hanging thick in the air.

Without a word, Zayn stands, his movements smooth and effortless. He doesn’t reach for your hand, but you instinctively follow him as he steps away from the group, leading you down the hallway.

The world feels quieter here, just the sound of your footsteps against the wooden floor, the distant laughter from the others now muffled. He glances back over his shoulder at you, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his lips, as if he’s waiting for something—permission, maybe, or just a sign that you’re ready.

You feel the butterflies stir in your stomach, your heart racing in anticipation. This is it. The moment you’ve been thinking about, wondering about, for what feels like forever. And now, with Zayn standing in front of you, the weight of his presence wrapping around you like a blanket, it feels real.

He stops in front of an open door, stepping aside to let you enter first. It’s a quiet room, dimly lit, just enough light to cast shadows over the furniture and make everything feel intimate, personal.

The air smells faintly of incense, a warm, comforting scent that makes you feel like you’ve stepped into a safe space.

Zayn closes the door behind him, and for a moment, the two of you are alone, standing in the silence of the room. He looks at you, his eyes dark and steady, but there’s something in his gaze—something that makes your pulse quicken.

“You okay?” he asks, his voice soft, like he’s reading the uncertainty in your eyes.

You nod, but it’s hard to find words. You’re lost in the way he’s looking at you, in the way your heart seems to thud louder the closer he gets.

His hand reaches out, brushing against your arm, his touch light but electric. His fingers linger, almost hesitant, as if he’s waiting for you to pull away, but you don’t. Instead, you feel yourself lean into his touch, the warmth of his skin against yours grounding you.

Zayn’s thumb brushes gently across the back of your hand, a silent invitation. His voice comes again, low and quiet, almost a whisper. “Is this alright?”

It’s not the question that makes your breath catch—it’s the way he says it, with so much care, with so much tenderness. You’ve never heard him speak this way before, and it makes everything feel more intimate, more real.

You swallow, your mouth suddenly dry, and you nod again, unable to trust your voice.

Without breaking eye contact, Zayn steps closer, closing the distance between you, his body warm and steady. The air feels thick now, the space between you charged with something undeniable.

When he’s close enough that you can feel the heat of him radiating off, he reaches up, his fingers curling around your chin, tilting your face toward his. The way he touches you is soft but purposeful, and your heart beats harder, faster.

And then, just like that, his lips brush against yours—lightly, tentatively, like he’s unsure whether you’ll pull away. But you don’t.

You inhale, the scent of him filling your senses—warm skin, a faint trace of cologne, the musk of his shirt against his skin—and everything else fades away. The kiss deepens, slowly, as his hand moves to your back, pulling you in closer. You can feel the gentle pressure of his lips against yours, the slight movement of his mouth as he deepens the kiss, his tongue tracing the edge of your lips with a careful hesitation that makes you shiver.

This isn’t like anything you’ve imagined. It’s better. More real.

The warmth of his mouth on yours sends a flood of sensation through your body, every nerve in your skin coming alive. You can feel the softness of his lips, the way his hand moves up to cradle your face gently, as if holding you in this moment, in this kiss.

Your hands move to his chest instinctively, feeling the solid warmth of him beneath your fingers, the steady beat of his heart under your palm. You lean into him, your body pressing against his, feeling the connection, the chemistry, between you both.

For a moment, it’s just the two of you—no words, no distractions, just the feel of his lips against yours and the way he holds you, steady and sure.

When you pull away, both of you are breathless, your lips tingling from the contact. Your pulse is racing, your heart thudding in your chest, and you’re not sure if you’re shaking from the kiss or the anticipation of what it means.

Zayn rests his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re amazing,” he says softly, his voice rough from the kiss. “I’ve wanted that for so long.”

Your heart skips a beat, the weight of his words sinking in. You’ve never had a kiss like that. It’s your first, but you know it’s the best one you’ll ever have.

“I—” You stop yourself, not sure if you want to say the things that are suddenly on the tip of your tongue. But Zayn’s hand gently caresses your cheek, his thumb brushing over your skin, like he’s grounding you.

“Shh,” he murmurs. “No need to say anything. Just… stay here. With me.”

You nod, closing your eyes, allowing the moment to settle around you. The kiss, the warmth, the way you feel in his arms—it’s everything you’ve wanted and more.

And for the first time, you feel completely at home.

You and Zayn stand there for a moment, just breathing, both of you still caught in the aftershock of your kiss. The room feels so quiet, so intimate now, that it seems like nothing could disturb the peaceful bubble around you. But you know that’s not true. The others are out there—probably already wondering what’s taking so long.

Zayn smiles softly, brushing a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “We should probably head back.”

You nod, but before either of you can take a step, you hear the distinct sound of footsteps in the hallway, getting closer. A voice echoes just outside the door.

“Oi! What’s taking so long in here?” Niall calls out, sounding almost too innocent.

You freeze, your heart skipping a beat.

Zayn’s eyes widen in mild panic, but before you can even react, the door swings open—and standing there in the doorway is Niall, his mouth hanging open in shock.

The two of you are still close, your bodies just inches apart, and the look on Niall’s face says it all. He stares at you both for a beat, then turns on his heel, running back down the hallway and shouting over his shoulder.

“They finally kissed! They finally kissed!”

You hear the clatter of footsteps as Niall rushes back to the living room, and you exchange a look with Zayn.

“Shit,” he mutters, running a hand through his hair.

You can’t help but laugh, but the nerves are starting to creep in. The idea of facing the group after your first kiss with Zayn makes your stomach flip. But before you can say anything else, the door swings open wider, and the rest of the boys come flooding in, their eyes immediately locking onto the two of you.

Louis, as always, is the first to speak, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Well, well, well,” he drawls. “Look who decided to take a little detour. A kiss, was it? I knew it.”

Niall’s grin is almost as wide as Louis’s, his voice still dripping with amusement. “You should’ve seen them, lads! It was like a scene out of a movie—total romance. Couldn’t keep their hands off each other.”

You feel your cheeks burn, and Zayn shifts beside you, clearly just as caught off guard by Niall’s dramatics.

Liam leans forward, arms crossed, but there’s no hiding the smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Took you long enough, huh?” he teases, eyes flicking between you and Zayn. “I was wondering if we’d ever get to this point.”

Harry, who’s been standing quietly this whole time, finally speaks up, his voice relaxed but with a playful edge. “Honestly, I was kind of rooting for this,” he admits, his gaze flickering between you and Zayn. “I knew something was going on between you two.”

You look at Harry, surprised, and he grins, leaning back with his arms crossed. “I’m just glad it’s out in the open now.”

Zayn shoots him a glance, a faint smirk playing at the edges of his mouth. “You’ve known?”

Harry shrugs casually, a knowing smile on his face. “Yeah, mate. You think I didn’t notice how she looks at you? Come on, I’ve been seeing it for ages.”

You roll your eyes but can’t suppress the small smile that slips across your face. It’s true, you’ve had a huge crush on Zayn for what feels like forever, but now that it’s out in the open, it feels… different. Like there’s nothing left to hide.

Louis jumps in before you can say anything, his voice dripping with mock offense. “Well, well, Harry, didn’t even warn us! You could’ve said something! We’re just here watching you two make goo-goo eyes at each other for months, and you were in on it the whole time?”

Zayn chuckles at Louis’s exaggerated outrage, shaking his head. “It’s not like that, Louis. It just happened.”

Niall, leaning in with a wink, adds, “Didn’t take much convincing, though, did it?”

You laugh, finally feeling a bit more at ease, the teasing not bothering you nearly as much as you thought it would. In fact, you’re practically glowing from the inside, the excitement still buzzing through you like electricity.

“So,” Louis continues, looking directly at you, “how was it, huh? Was he a good kisser?”

You meet Zayn’s eyes, your smile widening, and you shake your head, laughing lightly. “I’ll leave that to your imagination, Lou.”

The boys all burst into laughter at that, but you feel no trace of embarrassment anymore. The teasing is just part of the fun. You can’t help but grin, basking in the happiness of the moment.

Even though Louis, Niall, and Liam continue with their playful jabs, you can’t help but feel a rush of joy. The first kiss—the one you’ve dreamed about for so long—isn’t just a memory now. It’s real. And Zayn’s still standing right here beside you, grinning as if this is exactly where he’s always wanted to be.

“So, what now?” you ask Zayn, feeling giddy, a little breathless from everything that’s happened tonight.

He looks at you with that same quiet smile, his hand brushing against yours once more. “I think we’ve earned a little karaoke, don’t you?”

The others cheer at that, eager to distract you both with their antics, but the moment doesn’t quite fade. Not for you. You’re still wrapped up in the glow of the kiss, the teasing, and the undeniable feeling of being exactly where you belong.

And as you settle back into the couch beside Zayn, you can’t help but feel that this is just the beginning.

[noemilivv]

Hi Hi Hiii!!

I just came across your blog for the first time and OMG YOUR CONTENT IS SO SILLY I LOVE IT AHENEGSNWVDBEGDEE (the aesthetic is <33)

That 300 thingy was so cute,too bad i missed it 😭😭

Anyways,

May I ask for some platonic! Alastor,Rosie,Zestial,Carmilla,Vox,Adam and Husk (don't be afraid to shorten the list if it's too many 😭 I usually give a lot so you can write those you have more inspiration for) with a child!reader that is stereotypically childish and just very energetic and happy? Like,they love bright colors,plushies,running around,climb on stuff,always are happy but overall is a very nice and polite kid and will behave if kept occupied? Maybe one day the kid isn't all happy like always and the character worried? (Idk you do you,I just want a silly little chaotic kid!reader 😭😭)

I love platonic stuff so yeah :3

Anyways,I hope you can and enjoy writing this!!

I hope you have a really nice day! Don't forget to drink water and have rest!!

Stay proud!

-Nina <3

AWEEE TYSM !! i’m glad you enjoy my content (as well the aesthetic of my blog hehe), dw tho!! i’ll def have more events similar to my 300 celly in the future ~

as of now, i do not write for zestial or carmilla, but other than that i can do the rest ! enjoy !

Adam, Alastor, Husk, and Rosie + Chaotic!Child!Reader

Adam

He literally loves you to pieces bro, it makes him consider kids later on in his afterlife

Wrestling is constant with the the two of you, he’ll let ya beat him up for fun, he’ll swing ya around, anything ya want!!

Although, if you start swearing at a young age, now it’s thinks to him!

If he sees that the chaotic and fun kid he knows just isn’t feeling it today, he’ll plop down next to ya, try to make you laugh or smile, but if he gets no response? Crushed bro.

He’ll just be like “What’s wrong little bro?” with a 🥺 look on his :’)

Alastor

Alastor wasn’t much of a kid person, well.. until he met you.

You were fun to be around - energetic, but also still polite, as well as entertaining

He would have you do some tasks, giving him less work, and it kept you occupied

Although one day, his charming little kiddo wasn’t their normal happy self.

Al would bend to your level, a soft smile on his face, “Young one, you’re never fully dressed without a smile!”

Husk

To be honest, kids weren’t really Husk’s thing, teenagers? Sure. But young children, eh…

Well, until he met you, you were polite, but still had a lot of energy and were fun to be around — but also knew when to shush.

He would especially love it when you would say the most out of pocket shit, and just not know, cause you’re just a kid!

But when he sees his little stinker without their usual smile, he’s concerned.

When you come to the bar with your little soft frown, Husk will lean over the counter to face you, whispering a small ‘Keep pushing tiger, ya got this.’

Rosie

Rosie adores children of all ages, she’s a very motherly person, so it’s safe to say when you first stumbled into her emporium, clueless, she was more than delighted to help you!!

Once she got to know you, she was in awe about how a child could be more perfect, you were so grown yet so innocent, it was cute, really.

So when she sees you stumble back to her parlor, looking like you had just cried, her heart broke for you.

She’ll take your hand, and lead you off to your usual talking spot, giving you a cup a tea, “C’mon now, sweetie, what’s got ya in a funk? What can I do?”

[ambrozjas]

I get so excited when I see you post Dallas stuff, your fics are great! Could you do a fic where reader x Dallas celebrate their anniversary? And Dallas is pretty nonchalant and forgetful but he ends up still making it special? Thanks!

the moonlight only enhances your beauty ꨄ︎

dallas winston x reader

✧˖*°࿐ notes 🧸ᰔᩚ

ugh i’ve been in such a funk i haven’t been wanting to write for a while and idk what’s wrong w me but i’m sorry guys!! i’ll try to keep up more, i’ve just been having to focus on my music pieces and festivals so i’ve been pretty busy :((

✧˖*°࿐ warnings ᰔᩚ

reader wears a nightgown, some cussing, literally a crap ton of descriptions of the moonlight and how it frames things bc i’m obsessed with describing it 💕

✧˖*°࿐ word count ᰔᩚ

1184 words, 6437 characters

. ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄ . ˚◞♡ ⃗ *ೃ༄

“i don’t want to talk to you right now, dal.”

“c’mon!” he whined, dragging out the ‘n’ as his eyebrows raised and his eyes downturned in a puppy dog manner. you looked back at the clock, currently 11:47pm and you assumed maybe five minutes earlier those noises you heard outside weren’t stray cats fighting, it was dallas trying to get the ladder to come up to your window.

today was horrible, it was your anniversary, and he had the audacity to forget and then show up at your house begging for another chance to get you to go out with him? at eleven-fucking-forty-seven?

you had to admit, his brown eyes always made you give in no matter how stern you tried to be. whether they were slanted with a vindictive cat like stare, or big and dopey like a sad kicked puppy. you just couldn’t say no to them, even if you tried to put your foot down, this was still the case.

“dallas—“

he cut you off with a huff of your name, “just twenty minutes, that’s all i’m askin’ for, jeez.” you rolled your eyes as his facade dropped, the innocent act quickly shifting back to his regular curt tough nature. but nonetheless, you couldn’t say no. dallas winston always got what he wanted.

you walked away, dally’s eyes trailing after your figure as you walked into another room. your silk nightgown glowed in the moonlight as the creases took on a darker color as they shaded themselves, the blue-ish hue illuminating the rest of your body as you slipped away. dallas scoffed as he was about to climb back down the ladder before he head a faint, “wait.”

his eyes flickered back, watching as you emerged from the other room, only this time, with each step you took came a small clack sound. dallas looked down to see you in your shoes as you held up your jacket to show him.

“only twenty minutes, right?”

“yeah, yeah.” he muttered, watching as the bare skin was covered up by a dark coat of fabric, the zipper glimmering a bit as the moonlight shone on the silver lining before you turned around and made your way downstairs.

“so extra.” dally whispered before he climbed back down the ladder, careful to observe the ground and his feet while he stepped down each bar. the metal was cool beneath his hands, the warmth radiating off him instead because of how much he stuffed his hands in his pockets. the ladder’s paint was chipping off, revealing a silver coat underneath as it creaked with each movement dal made before finally, he spotted you coming out through the front door, back hunched as you tip-toed out.

“this better be good.” you mumbled, shaking your head as dallas carelessly left the ladder against your window and took you by the arm. he led you across town, and you thought to yourself that maybe you should’ve worn pants as you looked at your bare legs sticking out from underneath your nightgown.

with the cool breeze and your free hand—the one that wasn’t wrapped around dallas’ arm—clutching your gown so it wouldn’t fly up, it felt like you two had been walking forever. only the crickets and owls accompanied you with their songs sung in the night as you both walked through the empty streets of tulsa, careful to be on the lookout for any socs driving around in their pristine mustangs with their cigarettes hanging from their hand outside the car window.

you two finally made it to a small summer green turf, planted cautiously behind a few shops in the tall grass so nobody would steal it. “now wait ‘ere.” dallas told you, flicking the bridge between your eyebrows where your nose started as he jogged over to what looked to be a small blanket.

you cocked your head in bemusement, watching as he brought out his lighter and popped the cap open, trying to flick it on. a string of curses escaped his lips as it took a minute to start, but once it finally did he leaned down and positioned his back to light something you wouldn’t see. you stood on your tippy toes as you tried to see above before dallas snapped the lighter shut, shaking his hand once or twice to get rid of the burn from keeping the lighter open too long, and turned around to walk over and grab you by the arm.

you smiled once you took in the sight, already seeing what dallas was planning when he dragged you over there. it was a small blanket, one so small it probably wouldn’t even have enough space for the both of you, with two candles in the middle and a few snacks like cookies and packs of fruit around them. you tucked a strand of hair behind your ear as dallas smoothed his hair back, licking his slightly chapped lips as he intently watched you for a reaction.

you simply glanced at him and nodded your head to the side, signaling for him to join as you took a seat on the blanket. it was just as you expected, barely big enough to fit the both of you on it, but you didn’t care. all the anger from the day melted away as you watched dallas twiddle his thumbs when he sat beside you, pressing his lips together awkwardly.

then the small candles blew out once a small gust of wind came over the two of you.

dally mumbled a few profanities as his hand made its way back in his hair, smoothing it out to get rid of the reminding feeling of how nervous—the slight sweat on his forehead making his hair stick to it.

but oh glory, when you let out a small laugh, the sound falling from your lips as smooth as honey, dallas could’ve sworn he had heart palpitations—even if he’d never admit it.

and when you looked at him, the blue moonlight shone on your face just right. the glossiness of your teeth and the highlights on your nose seriously made you look like a work of art, your eyes getting that small glimmer in them as their corners crinkled when you grinned. dallas almost died right then and there.

when you looked at him, watching as the corners of his lips—although subtle—twitched upwards at the sight of you, your smile just got even bigger.

it was comical to you. the man sitting in front of you was dallas winston. who would’ve known that when he wasn’t slashing tim shepard’s tires or stealing a few packs of kools from the convenience store, he would be sitting here in the moonlight on what his best affordable idea of a ‘picnic’ was with you. nobody could deny the fact that you had dallas winston whipped.

then you both proceeded to yelp as a stronger gust of wind started to blow away the small bags of cookies away, hurling yourselves over the blanket and clambering away to try to avoid the food flying off into the street.

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ this request was literally adorbs omg 😭

kiss kiss ˗ˏˋ꒰ 🍒 ꒱

[krenenbaker]

Trick or Treat~!

Pairing: Che'nya x Floyd (could be read platonically or romantically)

Summary: It's finally Halloween night, but Floyd is in a bit of a slump. However, the arrival of a curious companion may just make the Halloween party a bit more interesting for him.

Notes: This is my first attempt at something following a prompt - specifically, "Trick or Treat" for the 2023 TWST Rarepair Halloween event. I'm trying to get more comfortable/practiced with writing prose (which is why this wasn't posted on the 30th... oops), and only vaguely ended up following the prompt. I'm fairly happy with how this little piece turned out, though!

Tags: @dove-da-birb, @azulashengrottospiano, @inkybloom-luv, @eynnwwyjth, @officialdaydreamer00 (please let me know if you'd like to be included or excluded from future writing of mine, or only want to be included in specific types of creations)

Floyd wanted to take a break. 

It was Halloween, and all he had done the entire week was work, work, work. Getting costumes ready, decorating, helping with their dorm's presentation, plus cooking and serving at the Lounge, all on top of normal classes? 

Sure, it was fun, especially getting to show off Octavinelle's cool setup, and 'taking care of' those misbehaving visitors. But now? Everything felt draining and boring, and Floyd simply wanted to leave, which sucked because the actual Halloween party had just started!  

Maybe he should just ditch and go back to his dorm; being in a funk when everyone else is having fun around you is not enjoyable.  He slumped down on a bench and unwrapped a sweet he had picked up earlier, before wrapping it up again. Ugh, not even in the mood for that candy he wanted only a few minutes ago. 

As he shoved the sweet back into his pocket and was about to get up from the bench to leave, Floyd heard a rustle behind him. Someone was quietly humming, and… laughing? The sound gradually moved to his side, towards the empty side of the bench.  

“Trick or treat~”

Floyd turned to face the voice. "Listen, man, I'm not in the mood to—” he froze, staring at the figure beside him. “Hang on a second, where's your body!?"

A toothy smile came to the face of the head that currently floated beside Floyd. "Oh, it's here.... or maybe it's there." A pair of hands materialized on either side of this boy's head, followed by the rest of his body. 

“I'm just kidding. Mind if I take a seat? I’d like to rest up before I keep purrowling around and startling people.”

Floyd blinked, then raised an eyebrow. “Uh, go for it.” 

This guy was... weird, and it was hard to tell if he'd be annoying, or interesting. "You don't go here, do ya? At least, I’ve never seen you before. And you’re no ghost, either.”

The cat-like boy shook his head, his jewellery jingling softly. "I'm just passing through for the festivities and collecting treats. Scaring some people, too. That’s loads of fun. And it's always nice to see my friends let loose." 

Floyd had a vague memory surface. "Ohh... you must be that RSA boy who's friends with Sea Turtle and Goldfishie." 

"'Sea Turtle' and 'Goldfishie', hey? Those are good names for my green and red friends. Cats are known for liking fish." He leaned forward, his grin growing. “Artemiy Artemiyevich Pinker. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

Floyd nodded, “Floyd Leech. It's nice to meet you, too.” He looked curiously at the boy beside him, taking in his shaggy hair, piercings, and impish smile.

"You're not what I expected.” Floyd smiled, "But you seem fun, Catfish. I didn't think Goldfishie would get along with someone so... interesting."

Che'nya's eyes lit up slightly. "Catfish? Heh heh heh, most people call me Che'nya, but I guess that works. And I’ve heard some… interesting stories about you, too."

He stretched his legs out in front of him, leaning back with his arms behind his head as he sighed. "But yeah, I don't think Riddle could shake me if he tried." 

"I'm almost jealous." Floyd tipped his head slightly. "Most of the time, Goldfishie likes to swim away before I can play with him."

Che'nya laughed, "Well, if you're wondering, he 'swam off' that way." He pointed off to the side. “Just don’t be rough with him. I don’t like people mistreating my friends.”

Floyd looked off into the crowd where he had pointed, and let out a small laugh. “Alright, good to know. Maybe I’ll find him later, if I feel like it”, he smiled and sat back. “And Goldfishie’s stronger than he looks, but I guess you’d know that.”

Che’nya nodded, then leaned closer with a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know, I bet we could do something that would really surprise him.” 

Floyd turned slightly towards Che’nya, and flashed a smile. “Yeah, we probably could. I think we should talk more in the future, Catfish. You seem pretty fun.” 

Che’nya grinned, “You seem pretty fun, too.”

"Well,” he stretched his arms above his head. “I think I’m going to go and find some more treats… and play some more tricks tonight. I'll catch you around, Floyd." 

With a haunting giggle echoing in his ears, Floyd watched as the boy beside him faded into nothingness, just the same way he had arrived. 

What a weird guy.

Floyd unwrapped the candy he had pocketed earlier, then popped it into his mouth. Maybe this party was worth staying at after all.

[marshbarks]

i stopped in the middle of a game to type this. there's a slime about to attack me. whatever.

au where stan moves away a lot lot lot earlier. they met a little later. he only knew kyle for a couple years; long enough to form a bond neither of them will ever be free of. long enough to both fall in love.

and stan remembers certain things super clearly. kyle's birthday, for example, and the smile that kyle flashed when he showed up at the arcade to celebrate. yeah, all of kyle's other friends were there, sure, he was happy for that! but stan was a little late, so he'd gotten into a little bit of a funk. wanted his best friend at the party. its obvious how the entire mood of the place shifted once kyle caught sight of stan's hat at the entrance, getting his hand stamped to come in. they locked eyes, as they always do, and stan almost ripped his hand out of the attendant's grip with how fast he shot it into the air to wave. they spent most of the party side by side.

(eric and kenny are also in town at this point, but ken also ends up moving away because of family stuff. so for a while, its just eric and kyle still in south park. stan's there from age 9 - 12)

so then 5 years later, at 17, stan has re-met with kenny --- ken walked into the dispensary with one hand in their hair, the other holding a note, trying to read off their dads fucking order- sighing and dragging their hand down their face and mumbling behind their palm, just shoving the note into stan's hands. and stan tried small talk. mentioned how he had a friend as a kid with an orange parka like that- ken's face splits into a grin and they're like "yeah? did you? mhm? tell me all about 'em, marsh." and stan freezes, then he's rolling his eyes and laughing and being like dude cmon you can't just let me make an idiot of myself like that! kenny, holy shit- hold on. let me pack this bag and then i'm taking my break---

and they form crimson dawn. jimmy's out in LA too, trying to work the comedy angle still. hoping that being out somewhere high profile will do the trick. leo moved out of his place and is crashing at kenny's family's house while he works on getting on his feet. being the Only Guys From Their Fuckin TOWN out here, of COURSE they form a lil meetup at stan's place (which his dad is sooo proud of their big house, stan cmon PLEASE bring your friends here [what friends, dad?] to show off my wealth) and the band isn't even a thought at first. stan's always had his passion for music, but it hasn't ever been something he's taken seriously.

until jimmy picks up a notebook and sees some lyrics stan was fucking SUFFERING trying to write- and being someone who is well-versed in the art of rhyming for limerick purposes (one of his favorite forms of comedy)- he offers some help with the words. stan panics at first- no its okay seriously thats not even anything important- but leo looks it over over jimmy's shoulder and compliments him. and then before they know it, leo is softly singing the revisions to himself and kenny is humming a melody along- and it doesn't take long for the idea to plant itself.

and they've been performing now for a decade. honestly, they're still not super big. its all gigs in local clubs and bars. most of their music is passion projects and personal feelings in the songs. they've all got lives to lead, recruited someone into the group who films all their performances to put online. and.

every year, if they perform around may 26th, stan stamps something on the back of his hand. normally its just whatever he had on hand. sometimes it's a drawing from someone else in the band. sometimes its a stencil- it doesn't matter. all that matters is that he sings the same song as a celebration to a birthday he'll never forget. to his best friend, even now, and he throws his arm into the air, facing the crowd. the memory doesn't sit with the others as hard, and stan won't explain it. says it's an important tradition to him!

and this year, kyle stumbles across an uploaded video while he's trying to find new artists to listen to and sitting through a random youtube mix.