Jynx

'04 | "I play guitar but she's into drummers"

[jynxonline69]

Introduction

Heyy, my names Jynx (she/they) <3

I just yap abt wtvs on my mind and repost fanfics i rlly liked reading or masterlists of accs i rlly like.

I like BTS (yoongi), TXT (sookai), SVT (woozi, wonwoo, minghao), 5SOS, (ashton) and 1D (zayn girly since day one 👅).

(The pipeline is very much real)

[jynxonline69]

Guys whats an appropriate amount of freebie bracelets to bring for a concert 🧍‍♂️

[jynxonline69]

5sos u wanna add start over to setlist sooo bad

[jynxonline69]

Idk where uncasville is but i dont like it there already

[jynxonline69]

Why does luke lwk have ass in his new post

[jynxonline69]

5sos in north america tmrw, lets hope they didnt change the setlist....

[rubyisnotok]

12am on taco tuesday 😔🤙

[jynxonline69]

Missing 1D rn 🚬🚬🚬

[breathe4me]

study chemistry or write fanfiction.

[jynxonline69]

Why not write chemistry?

[jynxonline69]

Listening to replay by shinee and they dont make music like this anymore 🚬🚬🚬

[wishfuldreamingsos]

Designated Driver (Calum Hood)

Part One

Word Count: 3.395K

Blurb: You and your friend decide to go out to get your mind off a not-so-great week. When your planned DD falls through, her boyfriend, Calum, steps in.

Warnings: Alcohol; vomit; language; Calum Hood being hot; somewhere between fluff and yearning; abandonment by best friends

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

The room’s spinning and the music that thumps through the speakers adds to the headache growing at the back of your head. That doesn’t stop you from throwing back another shot of tequila when it’s handed to you. Your friend Claire laughs when you gag and tosses back her shot, her face not even scrunching up in disgust. You wonder how long you have to be drinking before you stop being a little bitch about tequila with no chaser.

“Bar’s about to close. One more drink?” she asks, tossing an arm over your shoulder and pulling you in close. The smell of beer permeates off her breath. You can't imagine yours smells much better either with the assortment of mixed drinks and shots you've downed way too quick. When Claire called you out for a night out post breakup with her most recent douchebag, you agreed to getting shit-faced. You'd like to say it was out of friendship, but in reality, you just needed a reason that wouldn't be concerning to your best-friend to get plastered.

“Sure,” you say. You know you shouldn’t drink more, but the fire in your belly and the warmth spreading through your extremities feels nice. Not being anxious for once feels good. If several shots brings this, one more can’t hurt.

Claire smiles with her perfectly straight teeth.

“That’s my girl. Call Chelsea. Let her know we’ll need her here soon.”

You nod and pull out your phone as Claire makes her way back to the bar, garnering several looks from guys and girls alike as she moves through the dwindling crowd. The numbers blur together on your phone, but you can make out 1:35am. You know you're going to regret this in the morning; you're not 21 anymore and haven't been for a while. You dial Chelsea’s number and wait for what feels like an eternity for her to pick up. Your best friend only agreed for you both to go out without her if you promised to call her for a ride home.

 “Hello?”

The heat in your stomach flares when you realize it's not Chelsea’s voice over the phone.

“Chelsea?” you ask, stupidly. You know who it is.

“No, she’s not here. It’s Calum”

Bile raises up in your throat but you force it back down. You don’t interact with her boyfriend much, and that's on purpose. He’s kind from what she's shared and treats her well, very attractive, but quiet. You know he's in music. Chelsea’s always been into the more reserved, artistic. and brooding types. Attractive types, Australian types, insanely hot types. This is why you stay away; you don't need to be yearning for your best friend's boyfriend and you always feel ashamed for even admitting that secret desire to yourself.

“Oh, she said she’d pick up me and Claire from the bar,” you say, not bothering to ask why Chelsea isn't with him but her phone is.

“I know. I’ll just come get you,” he says through an exasperated sigh.

“You don’t need to do that,” you say, doing whatever you can to make sure you do not have to interact with Calum in this state. It is hard enough dealing with his accent when you're sober. “We can get an Uber or something.”

"Hey," Calum says and you stop speaking. He says your name quietly after getting your attention, and you hate the way you like it. He’s never addressed you directly by name and you don’t appreciate the feeling it elicits in your lower stomach. “You’re slurring your words. I’m not going to let you get in a car with a stranger. I’ll be there to get you both.”

 He hangs up the phone before you have time to protest. Sighing, you shove your phone into the pocket of your skirt. You look to the bar and find Claire talking with a man. He’s handsome in an almost too perfect way with blonde curls and a broad, slightly-muscular body. By her body language, Claire is really into him. She leans into his space and laughs, running her hand down his arm. You head toward the bar, trying not to show that you are having difficulty walking correctly, in an attempt to break up the pair.

“Hey, babes,” you say. She turns to you and you can tell by the look in her eyes you're too late. She's fully pulled this man and she plans to reap her rewards.

“Hey, this is Luke,” she chirps. “I’m going home with him.”

You look over the man in question. He looks unoffending, but you're never one to give strange men at the bar the benefit of the doubt. He offers his hand out to you, trying to be charming. You look down at his outstretched hand like it's something dead and don’t take it. The man, Luke, takes the hint and drops his hand.

“Calum is coming to get us,” you say. “He’ll be here soon." You try to give her a look that says she’s not leaving with a random stranger. Claire is stubborn, though, and she’s never been one to listen to you. She has a habit of going home with random bar guys, thus her trail of douchebags. You've tried literally tackling her before to no avail, and screaming in the face of these random men, but Claire does what she wants. And if you're honest, you're doing your best just to hold everything together, right now. The room has been at an odd tilt the last twenty minutes, and you've been trying to ignore it. Now, there's a slow spin and it's not helping your headache.

“I’ll be fine! Here’s your drink,” she says, handing you a tall glass of something you don’t remember ordering. “We’re heading out.”

You try to reach for her wrist to stop her, but she dodges it. She grabs Luke’s hand and they leave the bar, heading out the front door. You watch after them and the way their bodies wobble in your vision. You settle on sinking into the available seat at the bar and accepting your defeat. Why did you expect anything else from her? There’s a reason Chelsea is your best friend and not Claire. Chelsea wouldn’t abandon you at nearly two in the morning for some potential lay. Okay, so maybe Chelsea did kind of abandon you, but that's out of character. Your best friend, you've noticed, hasn't been herself much at all lately. When you've attempted to press it, she just avoids any in-depth conversation all-together.

You sit at the bar and don't touch the drink Claire left you. You know that if you take another sip of alcohol, you may not be able to walk out the bar when Calum arrives. Your phone buzzes and and you look down. The screen seems to pulsate through the haze of the alcohol. It’s an unknown number and your eyes take a moment to focus before you can make out the text.

It’s Calum. I’m outside.  

You do your best to gather yourself in order to feign some semblance of sobriety, but when you stand again and struggle to balance, you know you're fucked. You leave through the front door and topple into a man standing by the entrance.

"Fuck," you swear. "I'm sorry," you begin, but stop when you process that it's your ride.

"You're fucking hammered," Calum says, his darks eyes looking down at you, crease between his furrowed eyebrows.

"No shit," you say, a little too sarcastic under the influence of what you are certain to be three times the legal limit.

You look up into Calum's face and you blame the alcohol when you are shocked at how good he looks, tonight. His bleached hair has grown out a bit from the last time you've seen him, and the dark of his natural hair peaks out from the crown of his head. The smile lines by his eyes are prominent, even though you've rarely seen him smile. You want to trace them with your finger and see the way his mouth upturns.

So you can see just fine when checking out your best friend's boyfriend, but not when you need to walk across the fucking bar? You try to check yourself, but don't do a great job.

"Where's Claire?" Calum asks.

"Left me," you say, but from the way Calum watches you, you know it's the wrong answer.

"What do you mean she left you?" he asks, his arms going around you to guide you to what you guess is his car. You don't object; the inebriation is only worsening and at this point, you're struggling to just answer his questions, nonetheless walk upright. His hands are firm on your elbows as he lowers you into his car. It smells faintly like cigarettes and his cologne, you notice.

"Hot guy. Typical," you say.

"Did you try to stop her?" Calum asks, the disappointment evident in his voice even now, and you do your best to not laugh. You know all the alcohol will come up if you do.

"Nawh-- told her to use protection. Course I fuckin' did," you say. "Clearly not in the state to fuckin' hold her back."

Calum lets out a dry laugh, and half of you want to know what a real one sounds like. The other part of you wants you to stop having thoughts about your best friend's boyfriend. It doesn't help when he reaches across you to buckle you in. The back of his hand grazes over your side as he does so, and it feels nice. You throw your head back on the headrest and close your eyes, not wanting to watch him.

"I'm gonna' get you home," Calum says once he gets into the driver's seat. "You still live off the highway?" he asks.

You nod a yes, but the motion makes you feel like you're going to be sick. Then, a rational thought comes in.

"Just take me to Chelsea's," you say.

"Can't do that," Calum replies, short. He fumbles around in his backseat as he reaches behind you. He hands you a garbage bag, forcing it into your hands. "If you feel like you're gonna' hurl, please just don't do it in my fucking car."

"Sir yes sir," you say, sending a weak salute, struggling to keep your eyes open. "Why can't you take me to Chelsea's?" Your question is quiet, but you know Calum hears you because he goes silent as well. A norm from your experience with him.

Calum throws the car into drive, and a wave of nausea crashes over you. Do not vomit in this hot guy's car. Do not vomit. You repeat the mantra over and over in your head and breathe in through your nose, hoping to fight the sensation off.

"Not together anymore," Calum says. No further explanation. If you weren't doing everything you could to not be sick, you'd be more shocked. At least, you would ask what happened and why he still had her phone, you'd like to think. But you don't say anything, just focus on the way the air moves through your body as you breathe.

Calum doesn't tell you he's rolling down his car windows, but he does and you're immediately thankful for the rush of cool night air that floods into his vehicle. It gives you enough reprieve for him to effectively get you home without you messing up his leather interior.

He slides his car into the space outside your apartment, and the bile you've been withholding coats your mouth. Clumsily throwing the door of his car open, you stagger to the bushes by the entrance of your apartment and let go of the poisonous contents of your stomach. It's disgusting and the taste of the alcohol the second time feels like a horrible punishment. You hair falls down around your face as you continue to be sick, but you can't do much more than hold yourself upright by the door.

You become aware of hands moving the hair away from your face and holding it securely at the nape of your neck. If you weren't so fucking sick, you would fight the way you notice the warmth of his skin radiating against the post-vomit chills. But you let Calum hold back your hair so you don't completely embarrass yourself, at least, not more than you already have.

"I'm sorry," you gasp. Wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Calum doesn't acknowledge your apology, just focuses on the task at hand.

"Where's your key?" he asks.

"Pocket," you rasp out. You realize your hands are dirty with your previous sins. "Can you get it?" you ask.

You think Calum pauses before he reaches into your front right pocket and fishes out the key, but time is blending together in a confusing mess at this point. He graciously leaves the apartment lights off, turning on his phone light only as he guides you inside.

"You've dealt with a lot of drunks," you say.

"You can say that." He doesn't elaborate but sets your key on your kitchen counter. "You need a shower," he says. You realize you must reek of the bar, vomit, and tequila.

"Don't think I can," you say.

"I'll help you," Calum says. Not an ask, not an offer, but matter-of-fact. You feel a flush come to your body and you hope he takes it as an alcohol-induced hot flash.

"I'm not getting naked in front of you--"

"I'm not asking you to, Sweetheart," Calum says. It's the first time all night you've heard him speak to you with true condescension and it shuts you up.

Your face must have betrayed your true emotions, because Calum's next words are softer, like he regrets how he answered you.

"I'm gonna' get you in the shower. I know how to make sure you still have your privacy," he says.

Again, his hands are on you, and even though you don't know how or why things ended between him and Chelsea, you feel less bad about the way you notice his hands envelope your arms. The way he guides you around like it's no issue to fully handle you makes you feel safer than you'd believe you would.

The next thing you process is the sound of running water and the flash of his phone light against your bathroom mirror. It pierces your eyes.

"I'm going to turn out my light," Calum says, nudging you to stand by the shower. Your hand goes to steady yourself against the wall and you can feel that all you have to do is step up over the lip of the shower. Somewhere along the way, you lost your shoes. "You'll take your clothes off in the dark and step into the shower. I'll turn the light back on when you're in, okay?"

"Okay," you say.

"Okay."

The light switches off and you are immersed in darkness. You don't move for a moment, a bit dazed.

"Get out of your clothes," Calum says.

The way he gently commands you knocks you out of the momentary stupor and you strip, pulling your shirt over your head. Grateful that you can unbutton your skirt and let it drop around your legs. You unclasp your bra and unstealthily shove down your underwear. The only sound in the room is the running of the water and both of your quiet breathing. You try not to think of the way you are completely exposed. You try not to think about how the first time you met Calum, he was shirtless and sweaty after the gym. You do your best not to think of any of that except carefully edging yourself into the shower.

The water is cooler than you expect and you hiss, the shock to your skin immediately sobering you up a bit.

"Sorry, it's gotta be cold," Calum says. "I can't leave you alone this drunk."

You nod under the stream of water, realize he can't see you, and mutter out an, "It's okay." You let the cold water crash over you and you haphazardly run the frigid water over your limbs and face. You find the body wash and rub the gel in your hands until it foams, cleansing your body of all the smells you don't want to carry with you to bed. You stick your face directly under the stream and open your mouth, let the coolness rest on your tongue, then swish it around. You spit the water into the shower, the acrid taste lingering on your tongue already improved.

You feel better than you did before and decide that once you get some water and headache meds into you, you'll be good. That, and maybe twelve hours of sleep.

"Okay, I'm ready to get out," you say, grateful that you feel more present.

Calum's tattooed hand reaches into the shower and turns off the water, and he manifests a towel into his hands. "Take this and I'll help you. There's no need in you strugglin' to get changed when you're just going to bed," Calum says.

You have no reason to argue against that, not wanting to tell him you sleep naked most times, anyway; so you take the towel and wrap it around your body, making sure it's secure.

Swiping open the shower curtain, you're met with Calum. You're angry that you can't even blame the alcohol for how attractive you found him before. As you're sobering, you notice even more the way he looks in the dim light -- his plump lips pursed into what looks like permanent disdain. His eyes go over you once, quickly. So quick you question if he even really looked.

"Good. I've got tablets and water and a granola bar by your bed. Do you think you can walk, this time?"

You try putting weight on your right foot as you step forward, and wobble a bit, but ascertain that you can at least walk.

"I'll let you do it yourself," he says without letting you respond. "But I'm going to be right next to you. Don't need you getting all this way to fuckin' bust your ass in your own apartment."

You nod, not immediately feeling sick on doing so. As you exit the bathroom, you see that he's kept the lights off, only turning on the dimmest lamp you have by the entrance of your bedroom. Your bedsheets are pulled back so they're easy for you to slide into. Chelsea had said once that her favorite thing about Calum was that he was so thoughtful. She was right.

So why are they not together anymore?

As you settle in, you watch Calum assessing you and the situation. He seems pleased when you take a few bites of the granola bar and throw back the ibruprofen. You sip the water he left you.

"Good girl," he says.

Your eyes go directly to his at his words and for the first time tonight, you notice the slightest blush creep to his cheeks. You ignore the warmth on his face and the one growing in your stomach. Calum clears his throat and changes the subject.

"You need to get rest. I'll be back tomorrow," he says.

"Why?" unsure as to why he'd have to come to your place at all.

"You've got a deadbolt," he says as if it is the most obvious thing in the world. You just stare at him, still needing an explanation.

"You need to stay in bed but I'm not leaving you in here with an unlocked door. I'll return your key to you tomorrow. I've got your number now."

You don't argue. You want to know what happened between him and Chelsea. That's certainly a subject you can't broach now.

"Okay," you concede.

"Okay," Calum says, his eyes softer on you this time. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," you return.

You hear Calum turn off the lamp by your door, make his way through your apartment, and lock the deadbolt. You decide you're going to have to thank him for taking care of you when it clearly wasn't his job. But that can wait, because you settle into your bed and let the exhaustion settle around you.

Before sleep takes you, you swear you can still faintly smell the scent of cigarettes and cologne.

[jynxonline69]

Reading this makes me want him more 🚬🚬🚬

[b3sidey0u]

God he’s so beautiful

[jynxonline69]

The side eye

[jynxonline69]

Since 5sos is so online lately u think theyre lurking on here somewhere...

[talk2fast]

the lip ring would look so good with the black hair

[jynxonline69]

I KNEW I WASNT CRAZY

[talk2fast]

the lip ring would look so good with the black hair

[lastheavened]

out of my limit supremacy

[rubyisnotok]

NO BOUNDARIES SET

sidequest!michael clifford x afab! reader

you’re an actor and michael clifford is a musician, the two of you go way back in a sense of fanfiction. you’re the face of michael’s love interest in a fanfic written a few years ago and it’s one of the most popular fanfics in the 5sos fandom. michael, being chronically online, found out about it and decided to get into contact with you to make a music video about it.

warnings: mentions of smoking, light praise if you squint

word count: 6.6k

authors note: i haven’t written in so long so trust the process please :)) it gets better i promise !

hope you enjoy ♡

you’ve had a really packed few months, management constantly setting you up on random pr stunts so your name is constantly in someone’s mouth, subconsciously spreading the word about your upcoming movie.

it’s tiring to say the least. nobody enjoys doing something you don’t enjoy, especially when you’re awkwardly walking around new york hand-in-hand with someone you hardly know. the worst part is everyone knows it’s completely fake, the fact that every picture taken of the two of you shows closed mouths, avoiding eye contact and you both look too good for the pictures being unintentional.

you’re currently scrolling through instagram, the pictures taken from today flooding your feed as a mass amount of pop culture accounts posted different angles every second. you let out a sigh, about to turn your phone off before a notification appeared at the top of your screen. a direct message from … michael clifford?

the name felt familiar, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. you decided to search him up on instagram instead of opening his message for now, doomscrolling through his posts. he’s already got a single out called ‘cool’, which sounds pretty good from the snippets you heard on his posts. you soon figured out that he’s in the band 5 seconds of summer, which is probably where you knew his name from.

after looking at pretty much every recent post of his, you opened his message.

michaelclifford: hey! i’m just reaching out to ask u if u wanted to come and act in a music video for my next single. i’m doing this whole thing with “wattpad”, if u don’t know what that is, pretty pls read up on it before u agree. or disagree. lol. just let me know! i can explain more if u need me to. thank u, have a good night!

you reread his message once more before searching up the definition of “wattpad”. you later found out it was an app where people wrote fan fiction, which you definitely knew about. michael seemed like a nice person, but there must be something that’s made him contact you of all people.

yourusername: hi michael! i’d love to help you with your music video. do you have a specific starting date, i’ll try to clear my schedule. also, why did you settle on asking me?

michaelclifford: so there’s this fan fiction that i’ve been made aware of recently and it’s a whole thing, but ur the face of the person i’m in love with if u get me? sorry, this sounds really bad now that i’m actually explaining it to u. it’s really popular and i just wanna give the people what they want kind of thing.

yourusername: ohh okay, i mean i’m still down.

michaelclifford: that’s amazing! i’m sorry, i know it’s late in new york i’ll leave u to sleep. talk to u in the morning

yourusername: it’s absolutely fine, talk to u in the morning michael

you placed your phone down, choosing to stay curious about that fanfic that he was talking about. you slot the charger into your phone, shutting the light off and turning around in the hotel double bed, closing your eyes in hopes of getting some sleep.

the sound of your alarm woke you up the next morning, blaring down your ear till you shut it off with a groan. you rolled back over, trying to go back to sleep till your social manager, jenny, began to call.

“for fuck’s sake..” you whisper to yourself, sitting up and ripping the charger out of the port, answering the phone and putting it on loud speaker. “hello?” you say.

“y/n! i’m just checking if you’re awake, seems like you are. are you ready for today? we need you out in streets again for some more pictures.” jenny rambled, her words going through one ear and out the other on your side.

“yeah, sure.” you mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “oh— i have something to tell you.” you blurted out, remembering your conversation with michael clifford last night.

“go on…” jenny pushed.

“okay, so, you know michael clifford from 5 seconds of summer? he dm’ed me last night asking if i could be in one of his music videos and i said yes, but now i’m realising i shouldn’t have said yes because it seems like my schedule is fully booked just so i can walk around new york looking bored.” you spoke quickly, words just flooding out. you pressed your eyes shut and your lips folded into a thin line.

“not… bored.” you tried to correct yourself but jenny already knew what was going on.

“we can try and do something about it.” jenny replied, earning an eyebrow raise from you. “seriously? we can?” you asked, all of a sudden perking up.

“i said we can try, don’t get your hopes up yet.” she responded. “get up and get dressed, text me when you’re ready.” she said before hanging up, not even giving you a second to reply. you force yourself out of bed, trying not to think about michael too much incase things go sideways and you can’t make it to set with him.

the stairs up to your hotel room were horrendous, having no choice but to take them since the elevator is out of service. your heels are in your hands by now, feet throbbing with each step but you finally manage to make it to your room, fishing for your keycard in your bag, scanning it which unlocks the door. you kick the door shut with the heel of your foot, immediately walking towards your bed and just face planting into it.

today has been a day from hell, your phone was taken off you in the morning to keep up with movie promo, meaning that if michael did text you in the morning like he said he would, you’ve practically been ignoring him all day without knowing! your face peels from the mattress, grabbing your phone out of your bag and you immediately open instagram to check for a new message from him.

michaelclifford: good morning! hope u slept well. just wondering if theres any point where ur free? i’m free for awhile, sometimes in the studio with the band but it’s easy to work around. just lmk!

that was sent at 11:24am, it was now 10:49pm.

yourusername: hi michael, i’m so sorry for leaving you hanging for this long i’ve had a really busy day. unfortunately nothing has been confirmed but i’ve made sure to ask my team about the music video though so i’ll make sure to get back to you when i have the news.

now all that you could do was pray that your team would allow you to work on this project with him. it’s something different, maybe even a new way of promoting yourself. a better way, at that.

after around a month of convincing your team to let you free from the unnecessary amount of work, you and michael finally met up for coffee after weeks of texting back and forth at late hours, causing you both to lose sleep just so you can work around eachother’s timezones to keep texting one another. atleast it was a mutual feeling.

that’s when you first saw him, blonde hair with black streaks throughout. he was more pale in real life. this was probably the first time you really looked at him. he had a small but reasonable amount of stubble across the bottom half of his face, complimenting the shade of his plush lips perfectly.

handsome, to say the least.

he held the door open for you, his frame towering over yours. this man is tall. you didn’t think he’d be as tall as people say he is, but he is, especially with the noticeable emo boots that he wears. they’re cute though, you’ve picked up on his style.

“hey,” he said, making you look up at him. “yeah?” you tilt your head.

“go find a good spot, i’ll order for us. what d’ya want?” he asked you, his hand lingering on your lower back. your skin burned beneath it, even though it was the lightest touch possible. “uh … i’ll take an iced vanilla coffee. do you want my card?” you ask, already beginning to root through your bag.

“no, why would i want your card? it’s on me.” he cut you off, his hand gently grabbing your wrist, pulling your hand out of your bag. “no need for that.” he mumbled, zipping your bag up for you.

you smile at him, looking away to scan for a place to sit. “i’ll go find somewhere. make sure you get my order right, clifford.” you tease, walking off to find a seat in the corner of the coffee shop.

he returns with two iced coffees in hand, sitting down infront of you and setting them onto the table. “i got the same thing as you, thought i’d trust your order.” he said, taking one of the coffees.

“what? is that you saying you’ve never had a vanilla iced coffee?” you ask, the disbelief visible in your tone and his plush lips stretch to a smile. “yeah, unbelievable.” he answered, leaving you confused how he’s gone his entire life without having one. “that’s insane. try it.” you tell him, which he does and you’re watching him with cautious eyes, ready to pick at his expressions because if he didn’t like it that may aswell be an insult to you.

“that’s actually good.” he spoke up, nodding his head. “what do you mean— actually good? it’s amazing.” you say, and he’s already finding your sweet spots, and one of them seems to be … iced coffee. “alright, it’s amazing.” he laughed, just trying to stay on your good side.

after talking for what felt like hours, planning things that were going to happen in this music video, learning new things about each other you both decided it was time to pack it up.

he held the door open for you again, the cold air hitting you both. it was now dark outside, streetlights blinking and adjusting to the dark setting. “i’ll walk you to your car, alright?” he said. it wasn’t a hesitant question, he was bold with it. “yeah, that’s fine.” you respond.

your eyes linger on his hands tucked into his leather jacket pockets, the gap between his arm making you want to link arms with him. would that be too much? this hasn’t even been given the title of a first date yet. was it a first date? your silence began to worry him, considering you haven’t shut up for the past hour.

“you okay?” he asked, catching you staring. you immediately look up at him, a rose blush quickly spreading across your cheeks. he definitely noticed. “yeah, just tired.” you replied, looking down at the floor in attempt to hide your embarrassment. he knew what you wanted, you weren’t necessarily secretive about it. it’s like your thoughts were on display above your head. “link me if you want to.” he spoke up again, not looking at you this time. you didn’t respond, your hand pushing through the gap between his arm and your fingers enclosed just at the top of his forearm. he didn’t pull away, just continued to walk with you in a comfortable silence.

the two of you actually had chemistry, even though you’ve only been in physical contact for just a few hours. you’re slowly starting to realise that you haven’t had a connection like this, as easy as this, in awhile. michael seemed like an easy person, laidback and friendly. he was definitely a gentleman, you realised that the second you met him through small things like holding doors and simply buying you a coffee, not even allowing you to protest.

you approach the completely blacked out range rover, windows tinted and the car looked freshly cleaned, you could probably see your own reflection through the black. you slide your arm away from his, it dropping by your side and you turn to look at him. he does the same.

“thank you for today, it was great meeting you.” you finally say, your eyes scanning his features, he for sure notices. his lips curved into a smile, looking down at your smaller frame. “it’s no problem, we should do this more often after we finish filming.” he brought up the idea of you two seeing each other again. there was no doubting the small flutter in your stomach at the idea.

“i’d love that.” you respond, mirroring his smile. your hand moves to grab the car door handle, but he quickly stops you. “hey, c’mere.” he caught your attention again. his arms gently wrap around you, you let go of the handle and hug him back. the side of your head pressed against his chest, your ear catching every thump of his heart. he sounded steady. relaxed. “don’t be so eager to leave, y/n.” he laughed, squeezing you once before letting go. you step back, rolling your eyes at him to brush him off, but you’re just trying to stay subtle about this weird feeling you have for him already.

“text me when you get home … please.” he said, opening the car door for you. “i will. thank you again, michael!” you reply, the smile on your face not faltering for a second.

you said your goodbyes and you climbed into the car, your driver speeding off and taking you back to your hotel for the night.

the sound of your shoes thudded against the carpet, the hotel lobby was completely silent. small background noises filled the room like distant chatter from the downstairs area and keyboard keys being tapped on computers. you walk past reception and back up to your room, your phone beginning to sound the minute you stepped inside.

it was jenny, of course it was jenny. it was like she had a tracker on you.

“hello?” you call out, your phone pressed against your ear. “hey y/n! how did it go today?” she asked, actually sounding interested in the conversation for once. especially when michael was brought up. she was definitely tired of his name after you asked about that music video a million times over.

“it was great. he’s so nice, you’ll have to meet him at some point. we talked about when we’re going to start shooting, discussed promo and things like that. he said that we can start next week, is that okay?” you ask, praying that you’re free for the next few weeks of shooting.

“i don’t see anything colliding with your plans for the next month or so, i think you’re good, y/n.” you let out a sigh of relief. it was finally confirmed that you could go and film with michael at last. “really? thank god.” you say, jenny could definitely hear your smile through your voice.

“don’t be thanking god, babe, be thanking me. i had to fight your entire team to make that happen.” jenny confessed. you didn’t even know she had the heart to do that. “you did? … why?” you furrow your eyebrows, confusion taking over. you couldn’t list one reason why jenny would care about what you wanted for your career this time around, so what made her change her mind now?

“you seemed eager.” she replied. “anyway, i’ll let you go. just wanted to know what it was like with michael.” jenny continued, hanging up the phone without a goodbye, as usual.

the week passed slowly, probably because you were waiting for something. you’ve been counting down the days to finally start shooting with michael. jenny was almost sure you had a crush on him at this point, but she didn’t understand that you were just excited.

speaking of michael, the two of you have been talking back and forth all week. you finally exchanged numbers and you call eachother quite allot. conversations consisted of you opening up about the past few months and how everything was a pr stunt between you and your apparent partner, and michael pretending to be shocked about it when everyone already knows it’s a complete lie.

today was finally the day that you get to see him again, and start the entire plan on the music video. your stylist has already given you an outfit to wear, you’ve done your own makeup for the first time in a hot minute. you took a few pictures, posting one on instagram just to keep people on their toes. michael saw it after a few minutes, liking your story. for some strange reason you’d always find yourself checking to see if he’d seen your posts, even though he doesn’t seem to miss a single one anymore.

you took one last look at yourself in the mirror before grabbing some essentials and leaving your room.

paparazzi and fans were waiting outside of the doors, security collected you at the lobby to escort you to your car just incase something happens.

after a loud five seconds, the car door slams and the noise blocks out. you open instagram, seeing that michael had replied to your story so you crack open your airpod case and shove them into your ears, preparing to listen to his voice note.

“you look pretty. i cannot wait to show you these new snacks that i got, you need to try them as soon as i see you.” is what michael said in his little audio. your heart literally swelled over his compliment.

yourusername: thank you !!! i’ll definitely try them i’m literally so hungry i was hoping there would be something to eat

you sent that as a response and opened spotify, pressing shuffle on your playlist and turned your phone off, cranking up the volume and pressing your eyes shut to pass the time.

an hour later, you’re walking to set. you feel like you should be used to meeting directors, producers and everyone else on set but it still triggers some anxiety. the front door opens infront of you, revealing michael with a cigarette between his lips, his fingers fumbling to light it. he looked up from the lighter, immediately blowing the smoke out away from your face, a grin spreading over his face. he held the cigarette between two fingers, pulling you into a hug with one arm.

“feels like i haven’t seen you in ages, what’s up?” he mumbled into your hair, turning his head away to take a drag. “you haven’t seen me in a week, i’m sure you’re fine.” you laugh, pulling away from him. “i didn’t know you smoked.” you commented, your eyes lingering on his fingers before looking back towards his face. “i don’t do it often, don’t worry.” he replied, his cheeks hollowing as he inhaled the smoke. he looked so good when he smoked. he looked down at you, not breaking eye contact until you did. you bit the inside of your cheek, looking away from him and letting him win.

a smirk broke out on michael’s face, watching your almost flustered state. “you alright?” he asked, totally teasing you on purpose. he threw the cigarette onto the concrete a few feet away, his eyes not leaving your side profile. “i’m fine, you just have that lingering smell on your breath.” you cover up the reason as to why you’re looking away, even though the smell didn’t bother you in the slightest.

“come on, y/n … don’t tell me that without a solution.” he whined, jutting out his bottom lip. “i have a solution, i’m not that mean.” you grin, picking out a packet of gum from your bag, handing it to him. “just keep the packet, i have way too many stored in here.” you close your bag, slinging it back over your shoulder. “why do you carry your entire life in there?” he joked, wrapping his arm over your shoulder and guiding you inside without a warning.

you tensed up a little, he for sure felt it, which caused him to stop in the hallway, turning his body to face yours, his arm dropping from your shoulders.

“what’s wrong?”

you did the same, looking up at him. “i don’t know … just nervous to meet everyone.” you shrugged, fingers picking at your belt.

“don’t be nervous, you’re going to be fine. they’re all gonna love you, alright?” his hands rubbed your biceps to calm you down. it was like he always knew what to do.

“on the plus side, you’ll have me right next to you the entire time if that makes matters better.” he sent you a goofy smile, full teeth and everything just to get a smile out of you, which it did. “come on.” his arm was back around your shoulder within seconds.

michael pushed a door open with his foot, a giant room with mini versions of other rooms placed around. this must be the set. the door opened even more, heads turning in your direction. cheers erupted in the room as you both stepped in. michael stood back from you, letting you have the spotlight and he watched with crossed arms and a fond smile on his face.

being the main centre of attention was definitely your thing, he could tell from a mile off. you were meant to do this. it was hard to believe that you were nervous before this because now you’re chatting away with everyone, completely blending in.

the director, sam, stood beside michael, bumping his shoulder with his own. michael tore his gaze off of you, wishing that he didn’t have to. sam’s eyebrows raised, clearly catching on to the way michael stared at you in your element.

“she’s great.” michael stated, his eyes finding themselves on you once again like you were magnetic. “i’m sure she is.” sam nodded. “have you told her the plan for this whole thing?” he continued to ask, causing michael to burn up a little.

“uh .. no. i was hoping you would tell her.”

“fine, i’ll tell her.” sam sighed.

michael couldn’t look away from you. “let her settle in first.”

after almost an hour of talking to everyone, your social battery was running low so you ended up sitting down in a corner with michael. your shoulders brushed together often, sometimes it wasn’t by accident but neither of you mentioned it. comfortable silence was something that didn’t come easily, but you both managed to find it in eachother that awkward wasn’t even an option anymore; somehow.

“i’m tired already.” you whisper to michael, his head turning to look at you. chatter continued on in the distance, filling the rest of the room. “my shoulders free.” he muttered in response, looking back down at his phone. he’s good at pretending like he doesn’t care, but when you actually decide to take him up and do as he says, he’s folding on the inside.

your temple collides with his shoulder, letting out a deep sigh. your arm was pressed against his, exchanging body heat.

that’s when sam decided to strike, ruining the moment. “hey … sorry, am i interrupting something?” he asked, his eyebrows furrowed as your head shot up from michael’s shoulder.

“you’re not. what’s up?” michael replied.

sam took in a deep breath, crossing his arms over his chest. “i’m here to tell you the entire plan about this music video if that’s alright.”

michael nodded. “no problem.”

sam took that as a sign to continue. “we start filming tomorrow. michael, i know you’ve had your input and have requested something to do with the whole fanfiction she-bang which we have put into place.” he inhaled. “we have someone coming in tomorrow, she’s playing a teenage girl and she’s basically writing a fanfic in her room. in which, all of these things that she’s writing come to life, sort of like death note. we have all of the sets, which i took into my own hands and at the end it’s like … ‘what if the ending wasn’t what anyone expected?’ wait—“ sam clicked his fingers, yelling to the staff. “add that to the script!” he looked back over to the two of you. “my apologies, and then you both have to … kiss, basically.” sam smiled awkwardly.

“dope.” michael mumbled, twisting his rings till his fingers felt raw. he dreaded the look on your face. surely you wouldn’t mind, you’re literally an actor, you’ve done this multiple times, but michael has picked up on the fact that you cannot hide your expressions for the life of you.

you didn’t even know how to react to the fact that you had to kiss the guy you’ve been trying to convince yourself you didn’t want. you couldn’t even say no, not like you wanted to, but things will probably go awkward afterwards. you dread that. michael has been a great friend, the last thing you want is not having that special bond anymore. maybe you’re just overthinking it, but the possibility is still there.

“that’s fine.” you mutter, your voice sounding more quiet than you intended. you cringed at yourself, praying that michael didn’t notice how you sounded like you didn’t want this. you hate to admit it but you do, it consumes your thoughts more than anything else. it shouldn’t, but it does. it’s even worse because you have so much more to worry about, but he’s been lingering in the back of your mind for weeks.

sam perked up, “perfect! i’ll leave you both to it.” he chirped, striding off immediately.

michael flinched at the weight on his shoulder, looking down to see your head resting on it again. a small sigh escaped him, something like relief that you weren’t as uncomfortable as you sound. “i was going to tell you earlier but i was too scared.” he whispered to you, causing you to lift your head up.

you frowned. “why were you scared?” your eyes searched his for an answer. he felt small under your gaze. nervous. “i don’t know— i was afraid you’d be mad about it or something. i’m not sure, just a gut feeling.” he shrugged, avoiding eye contact.

“so you found out … when?”

“this morning.”

“is that why you were being so perverted earlier?” you grinned. “testing the waters?”

“i was not being perverted! what are you talking about?”

“you know exactly what i’m talking about michael clifford, peering over at me with that cigarette in your mouth.” you try to rein-act his recent actions, continuing to state: “pervert.”

“fuck off, y/n.” he laughed, that smile on his face could make someone melt if it was humanly possible. “happy to know it made you nervous.” his smile morphed into a playful smirk, bumping his shoulder against yours.

your smile dropped in response. fuck, he figured you out. “it didn’t.” you argued. “relax, babe, i was kidding.” he reacted.

you both knew he wasn’t kidding.

the filming started two days ago and things are starting to wrap up at last. it’s been an oddly long process but nobody is complaining. this might be the most fun you’ve ever had on a set, you’re considering starring in music videos more often.

you’ve been shooting all day, the set is dimly light with some faint indie music playing from somewhere in the room. michael’s smoking a cigarette in the corner while you’re sat down on a windowsill, staring outside. nobody else is in the room but you and michael, some staff are heading in and out but apart from that you’re both alone.

his footsteps dragged you out of your head, turning to look at him approaching you. you watch as he struggles to squeeze the chewing gum, the chewing gum you gave him, out of the packet. he tilts his head back and drops it into his mouth, his jaw flexing with each chew. he knows what he’s doing and it’s eating you alive. he sat down across from you on the windowsill, mirroring your exact position; leg propped up and the other dangling off the side. you catch yourself admiring him, thoughts passing through your brain like it was normal to think about him as often as you do.

“michael?” you called his name, his green eyes met yours and the atmosphere immediately shifted. you bit your cheek, almost regretting snagging his attention. stillness took over the room, but he didn’t push you. he just watched in silence, letting you gather your thoughts before continuing on.

“i’m having a lot of fun doing this with you.” you announce, hugging your knee a little closer. “i’m glad you asked me.”

“yeah?” his lips upturned.

“yeah.” you confirmed.

his foot tapped yours. “i’m glad you said yes.” his eyes softened. the nose of your shoes are pressed against one another, neither of you daring to break the small contact. it seemed to be a reoccurring thing that you’re always touching in some kind of way. you rested your head against the window, staring outside as the sun slowly began to set, an orange hue lighting the sky.

“wanna go the roof?” michael asked you, his eyes haven’t left your face the entire time.

“sure, i didn’t know we had access to it.” you watch as he gets up from his spot, walking off, expecting you to follow which you do. you walk through random hallways till he pushes open a metal door, revealing a stairwell. the two of you climb up it and open another metal door once you get to the top, revealing the rooftop. the wind wasn’t as strong as you thought it would be, heat still left over from where the sun shined it’s rays. it was the perfect temperature. michael stepped over to the edge of the roof, taking a seat. his legs dangled off the tall building. you approached him and took a quick look down, your face scrunching at the height.

“you’re fine, come here.” he looked up at you with innocent eyes, reaching his hand up for you to take. you took his hand and steadily sat down, looking up at the sky instead of down at the ground that looked like it was ready to catch you if you fell in the most haunting way. michael let go of your hand which confused you a little since usually when something happened, neither of you made a change. this time he did.

you placed your hand flat on the concrete instead, five seconds later his landed on top of yours. you looked down at your hands, then looking over his side profile but he didn’t look back. he just acted like this was completely normal. you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything, deciding to watch the sunset instead. michael’s fingers slid between yours from behind, interlocking your fingers. his other hand rooted through his pocket, picking out his second cigarette of the day.

“want one?” he asked, his voice low. your eyes locked on the packet of cigarettes, biting your lip. “i’ve never had one.” you respond quietly.

he nodded. “i’m not gonna force you.” he mumbled. “can you light it?” he questioned instead, not wanting to let go of your hand even for 10 seconds to light his cigarette. “lighters in the pocket closest to you.” he nodded towards the pocket.

you rooted through it with your free hand, grabbing the lighter. he placed the cigarette between his lips. your eyes lingered on his mouth for a few seconds and he just watched as you did, he smirked in response and you felt your cheeks flush. you brought the lighter beneath the end, his hand casting over the lighter so the wind wouldn’t mess it up. the fire spread and lit it up. the cigarette burned with each inhale he took. you put the lighter back into his pocket and observed his smoke break.

“you sure you don’t want a drag or are you just gawking?” he pushed, raising his eyebrow at you.

you looked off to the side, taking a moment to make your choice. “i’ll try it.” you finally say. he took the cigarette out of his mouth and brought it up to your mouth, but not letting you wrap your delicate lips around it yet.

“i’ll talk you through it.” he murmured. “take a small suck of it and just breathe it in, you’re probably gonna cough it all out but that’s normal for the first few times.” he explained. “got it?” you nodded in response.

he watched as your lips wrapped around the smoke, humming in approval as you did so. the bud lit up a bright orange, signifying that you were sucking. he watched closely. “good girl …” he purred, his voice awfully low. you immediately began to cough the second you inhaled the smoke in, he let go of your hand and patted your back lightly. “you’re all good, that was perfect.” he justified your first try, even though it was not perfect in the slightest.

“i’ll leave the smoking to you.” you said through chokes.

“for the better.” he agreed with a chuckle, squeezing your hand.

the next hour was spent sharing headphones, adding songs to the spotify jam just to have an excuse to not leave eachother’s side. this is the first you’ve heard of michael’s music taste and this is the first he’s heard of yours.

“can i play you an unreleased one?” he requested, watching you cut off your nod to the beat of the song to an enthusiastic nod in response to his question. he grabbed his phone and went through his files, pressing play on a song called ‘enough’.

the rest of the night was spent listening to his unreleased album till it was too cold and the sky was the darkest shade of blue.

today was the last day of filming, the mood is a little bit off today because everyone’s mourning this whole experience already. you were filming the last few parts of the music video, which also included the kiss. god, you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. it’s either going to be the worst thing ever or the best, but you honestly don’t have high expectations. it’s going to be infront of everyone, so things cannot go any further.

“alright! michael, y/n, we need you both here!” someone yelled and you immediately made your way over. michael followed after a few seconds, finding a place beside you. “it’s almost a wrap. we just need to film the last scene, which i’m sure you both know what that is.” someone from behind a camera said.

sam walked over with the most devious grin spread across his face. “into positions.” he ordered. “hope you’ve been practicing guys, it wouldn’t surprise me if you have.” sam teased, patting michael’s back as he walked into the set up bedroom behind you.

you and michael sat face to face, both of you avoiding eye contact. you can feel the nerves radiating from him, you couldn’t even blame him because you had that same pit in your stomach. from behind the cameras, a countdown was being yelled out.

michael’s tongue darted out to wet his lips.

your heart pounded in your chest till the thudding sound filled your ears.

“action!”

you both leaned in slowly. it was painfully obvious how nervous you both were. michael’s plush lips hardly even met yours, the kiss felt so gentle, his lips practically ghosted over yours. you closed the gap further, causing it to get a little messy. you both pull away like you were interlinked, mutually agreeing that this was definitely not the perfect take.

“can we do that again? sorry — i backed out halfway through.” michael apologised, looking at sam.

it took three more shots till you and michael were clearly over this by now. the only thing keeping you going was the look on michael’s face when you pulled away, it was something you couldn’t seem to get over. his lips swollen and pink from the kiss, his eyes heavy and his chest rising and falling a little faster than usual.

you both got more confident with each try, “action!” was yelled once again. you’ve both been told to lean in slow and then do your own thing, which has gotten easier now that this is the fifth time you’re kissing him. michael’s lips met your open mouth, you accidentally pulled back a little but he chased your lips. you both melted into the kiss with the kind of ease like you’ve been doing this continuously for years. this one felt right, but still awkward considering everyone was still watching you both.

“cut!”

michael’s front teeth caught your bottom lip, you let out a soft sigh into his mouth but he quickly let go like he suddenly remembered where he was. words couldn’t even describe how long he’d been waiting to pass that barrier.

cheers erupted in the room. that had to have been the best take.

“we’re done?” you quiz, and you get multiple people yelling the word ‘yes’ at you. you rubbed your sweaty palms on your thighs, getting up from your spot without shooting michael a singular glance. you needed to cool off.

you found your way to the rooftop again, pushing open the metal door that felt nostalgic already. the door slammed behind you, the night sky casted over you like a dark sheet. you hugged yourself to keep warm.

the door opened behind you, causing you to flinch at the sound. you turn around.

michael.

his tall figure stood in the doorway. “y/n?” he called out your name, his voice shaking a little. he sounds so concerned. “everyone’s wondering where you went.” he stepped closer to you, stopping when the tip of your feet met.

“can we just …” he stopped himself, folding his lips into a firm line. he looked away from you for a few seconds, trying to gather his thoughts. “you know what —“ he muttered before his large, ring-coated hands grabbed the sides of your face, your lips slamming together. it was real this time. it was perfectly messy, noses bumping together, breaking apart to let out little giggles before continuing, teeth clashing. one of his hands snaked towards the back of your head, fingers lacing through your hair while the other slid down to wrap around your waist, pulling your body as close to his as humanly possible.

you both pull away, panting against eachother’s mouths.

“you don’t even understand how long i wanted to do that. for real, though. not just for the cameras.” he whispered, his lips still ghosting yours.

“me too. i was waiting to see if you’d do it first.” you responded while his lips trailed up to your forehead, pressing repeated kisses to it.

he smiled against your skin. “thanks for your patience, baby.” he teased, pulling back a little. his finger hooked beneath your chin, lifting your head to meet your eyes. “you’re so pretty.” michael murmured quietly like the words were made for you and only you. he said it with the quietness like if someone heard it would ruin the meaning.

the meaning could never be ruined. michael clifford was complimenting you, kissing you, holding you at last. you’ve never felt more content.

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