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ughthatimagineblog · 5 years

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When John Met. . .

john mulaney x reader

prompt: you’d loved him for years, before, during and after his fame, but what happens when you close your heart and he tries to win you over? oh, by the way, it’s in front of millions of people. requested: @lundqvistisgod warnings: cursing? kissing? word count:4232 a/n: jesus christ idk why it took me so long to shit this out. it was a beautiful prompt and the idea for the skit came to me from my fave fave fave rom com ever pls enjoy

You knew you wanted to be a writer, but staring at screens all day with the accompanying hum of machinery is not what you had pictured when you would think of your dream job. It never occured to you that maybe writing isn’t as simple as just “writing”. It had, but of course you were blindsided by the glitz and glamour of the flashing lights you had in your mind when it came to success in your dream career. Writing for Saturday Night Live was a dream… Sometimes. A lot of the time it was constant meetings with producers, stuck up famous people, more writers and interns that didn't know what the hell was going on. But at the same time, neither did you.

However, there was something off about this draft for next week’s show. It didn’t have a host written in. You looked over your computer to Pete who was also clicking away at his desk. You had come to be quite fond of him over the past couple of years. You were about the same age but you met him when you were also a clueless intern, prime in your senior year of university and he was only slightly more familiar to the studio than you were and just a little bit more outgoing which made him the perfect person to cling onto while you learned the ropes. It didn’t matter whatever you went through, he was there to help and it often saddened you to think of the day he moves on and expands his career without you. It was something you didn’t enjoy dwelling on and out of all the ups and downs you both had been through, you know you’d never trade them for the world.

One of the biggest issues you’d had that Pete had helped you with was John. Yes, John Mulaney. You’d met him towards the end of your intern years as you were invited back as a full time employee and writer for the show and he changed your life. He gave Pete a run for his money and even caused a little fight between you both while all three of you were first writing for SNL. You had spent so much time with John it drove Pete wild and he didn’t understand it until he drove you to confess your feelings for him. You and Pete knew you hadn’t had much luck with guys or felt so strongly for someone since high school so it was kind of a big deal for you. Alas, it did not last long and you were given the chance to move on as John left the show to pursue his standup career which turned out to be fruitful.

You remember seeing his shows start popping up on Netflix and then he’d have new ones every now and then, still performing in New York. You even went to see a few a couple years ago. But over time your frequent conversations became, well, less frequent. Every day turned into every week, every week into every month and every month into every year and then not at all. The world kept turning and he had forgotten.

By the time he’d returned to SNL to write you’d figured he’d become another washed up celebrity you both used to snicker at. You’d assumed the jabs in his shows were just quips to pander to audiences that were alien to celebrity life and not genuine like they would’ve been years ago. Now he was almost thirty two, much more skilled in his practice and you were closing in on twenty five and still at the same job you started at just with a higher pay raise and a little more creative freedom.

It pained you sometimes to see him around, to be forced to interact with him. There have been several late nights with your pal Pete where you would just rant about John and how hellish it was having to work with him again. Of course, Pete would listen and offer sage where he could but overall you would do most of the talking. At one point, he asked if you’d even spoken to him to see if your assumptions were true. You admitted you hadn’t. At least not in any way that had been genuine. You worked with him so of course you had to speak with him but not for longer than moments at a time and not for any more than a few words. It was all you’d offer John. It broke you when he left, it broke you again when he changed, something still unconfirmed but you were sure of it, and you couldn’t allow yourself to be broken again. Your fingers flicked the edge of a packet of paper idly as you debated asking Pete for help on the somewhat empty screen plan in front of you. He looked busy, like he didn’t want to be bothered and had better things to do. Besides, you were starting to feel bad about how much you ranted to him. Of course you let him rant to you as well but it was nothing compared to what you needed to let off and you could tell how much it was wearing on him. Little did you know, though, that Pete wasn’t necessarily tired of your rants, he was more tired of being the middleman. John, since coming back to SNL had been coming to him for advice as well. He knew that Pete was your closest friend and wanted to know how to get close to you again so John would go to Pete. They’d exchange emails and text, even going out for a beer a couple times a week all without your knowledge. Well, Pete would have a beer, John would go for the water or tea. If Pete let you find out, he knew just how angry you’d be and how you’d never let him live it down and he’d go down as the traitor friend who let her long time unrequited love just walk back into their lives with no fight. But that’s exactly how it was. Pete and John became really good friends since he had come back and actually found more things in common than just ‘you’. During this formed friendship, Pete learned John actually felt for you. In more ways than he had ever led on.

You sighed, finally caving in and opened your mouth to ask Pete why there were blanks in the forms when one of the interns walked into the office with a bouquet of flowers. Pete’s eyes quickly looked up from the monitor to the intern and back to you with a questioning look. Only a moment more and you stood. “Um, hi, can we help you?” You said, voice soft. “Yeah, these flowers are for a,” The intern paused to look at the note in her hands. “Y/N.” They looked back to you expectantly. “Oh, that’s me. Are you sure that’s correct?” You asked, doubt lacing your voice as you looked between Pete and the intern. They nodded, showing you the card. Sure enough your name was written in calligraphy and signed, ‘Secret Admirer’. You smiled, furrowing your brows a bit in confusion. “All right. Well, thank you.” You took the flowers from the temp’s arms and set them on your desk, staring at the card.

“Well?” Pete’s voice jolted you from your train of thought. Looking up from the piece of paper between your fingers you saw his expecting expression. “It’s from a secret admirer.” You laughed, giving the card to Pete. He smiled, shuffling in his seat as he turned it over in his hands. “Someone in the office likes you.” He grinned and you rolled your eyes. “Yeah well, very funny Pete but valentines day isnt until next year.” You turned back to your desk, ready to work again, already forgetting about your earlier question. “It wasn’t me.” His tone was serious. Looking back up at him, his face matched his voice. “You mean this wasn’t a joke?” He shook his head and you returned to your work, noticing your coworker had sent you a couple emails regarding a different project and for the rest of the day, the blanks in the form and the anonymous love had been forgotten.

For the next week, conversation with John had grown and you realized, maybe, he wasn’t as stuck up as you had previously believed. He was still kind, still funny, and still knew you better than most. But you were still wary, moving farther away when he would get close enough to, what seemed like, hear your heartbeat. Or sometimes he would say something that would edge between friendly and flirty and you’d change the subject, shutting it down before your face could heat up. But even as the interactions frequented, so did the flowers.

Followed by chocolates, and gifts that were surprisingly personal to you, each coming with a new note that became more detailed over time and by Monday, table work day, it was obvious your admirer was on the writing team for this upcoming Saturday. You smiled as you unveiled the card tucked into the sleeve of the coffee cup before you, which by the way, was ordered to your specific liking. Amused, you turned to Pete, leaning on your desk, reading the note out loud. “I hope you enjoy this special cup of your favorite blend. I’m looking forward to seeing you later today- later today?” You paused, surprised. Pete’s eyebrows shot up as a mischievous grin spread across his face.

“They must be in the table room for later.” Pete shrugged, leaning back in his chair, biting on the end of his pen with a shit-eating grin on his face. “Must be.” You giggled. “Nice sweatshirt by the way.” Pete said with a pointed look. You looked down and felt your face heat up with the realization. You had bought a shirt online with a reference to one of John’s show’s on it. Despite everything you had claimed, you still admired him and were proud. You were really just scared of getting hurt. “You know it’s nothing to be ashamed of but-“ He checked the time. “We have to get to the meeting.” You nodded grabbing your coffee and the notebook, heading out the door with Pete.

You were halfway down the long hallway towards the table room when it finally dawned on you. “Oh yeah, Pete, there was a mistake in my forms. Who is the host? The spot was blank?” You asked as he reached for the handle and opened the door. You walked into the room, still waiting for a reply from your friend. You wouldn’t get one. Sitting at the table was two other writers you were not super familiar with and then John. John Mulaney sat at the head of the table. One of the writers turned to you and smiled. “Y/N, John’s going to be our host this week.” Shutdown. Your brain began to shut down. This meant youd work with him more. Every day for a lot longer than just a few seconds. You were so shocked you didn’t feel the hot coffee that was now on your hands as you had squeezed the cup too hard.

“Oh, shit.” You cursed, face heating up and the horrid chain of events unfolding before you. John’s face changed from smiling to concerned as he leapt up from his seat to help assist in the cleanup.

You stood in the breakroom, water from the sink left running as you leaned against the sink while John was applying Neosporin onto your burn. “Does it hurt?” He asked softly, eyes focused solely on the injury before him. “No, not anymore.” You managed to get out. He was so close. Your cheeks felt hot and even though he towered over you, the proximity made him feel small. “I told you, it’s not that big of a deal-“ You were cut off by him shushing you. “Hey, I wanted to help so I’m helping.” You rolled your eyes as he finally made eye contact again. “You’re wasting time.” He scoffed. “Pete and Megan can handle it for a while.” You shook your head and it fell silent. “Nice sweatshirt.” He grinned. “Shut up.” He laughed and your heart clenched in your chest. You loved his laugh. “No animosity. It’s a good bit.” He turned to reach for the bandaid. “Yeah, a lot of people seem to think so.” You said, a hint of venom in your tone.” His eyes shot to yours. “Is there something wrong?” John’s voice has both concern and hurt in his voice.

“No. Put the bandaid on.” John’s hand withdrew. “No, now I know something’s wrong.” You looked at him and sighed. “You’ve just been gone and you’re different.” You confessed. “I’m different?” You nodded, crossing your arms, flinching and then uncrossing them. He muttered a “Give it here.” before taking your hand again and dabbing it with a cool cloth more. “You left a long time ago and it was hard seeing you go. And then it- you got really really big and famous and soon enough you were just like them.” Your words felt small saying them aloud. His expression was incredulous. “Like them? Like who? Like the people we used to shit on? Y/N, I’m not ‘like them’. I haven’t changed. But every time I’ve tried to show you that since being back you’ve backed away. Pulled away. If anything you’ve changed.” Your head snapped up at him, a ping of hurt went through you.

“I have not changed. I just don’t know when you’re going to leave again so I’d rather not lead my own feelings on and let you get close to me again just for you to run off again.” Your eyes closed after you finished confessing, only in the back of your mind registering what you had told him.

“Your feelings for me?” He asked and your eyes opened. “Yes. And I’d rather not re-open that wound if you’re just going to run off again. But thank you, for trying.” You grabbed the band aid from his hands, which were shaking but you were too quick to notice, and left. You left him in that break room with no room for a response or time to register. You didn’t want or care to know his response.

Saturday finally came and so did the end of working within more-than-close proximity with John. He had talked to you the same amount as the days before, not mentioning what you had told him, treating you just the same and eventually your heart sank at his indirect answer to how he felt in return. But the secret admirer never stopped sending gifts. Another cup of coffee, more flowers, your apartment was filled with them, and more food. By the time your last gift came in today, you marched down to the other writer for Saturday’s episode, Michael’s office to tell him to stop. You knew it was him, especially after Monday. At first it was sweet but at this point you didn’t like him that way and knew you had to tell him.

You knocked on the threshold and leaned in the frame. Michael’s eyes popped up from his desktop and smiled when he saw you. This was going to be hard. “Hey, Mike, I just wanted to say thank you for all these little gifts but,” You walked further into the room to make sure you two were alone. “I don’t like you in that way. I’m sorry. I just have feelings for someone else and you’re a great guy, and I-“

“Stop, stop, stop. I didn’t send you those gifts.” Michael said, a smile on his face. “What?” He chuckled. “Yeah, those gifts that intern’s been delivering? Those aren’t from me. Thanks for thinking it was me, but they weren’t.” He smiled with a closed mouth before returning to work.

You left his office perplexed. Who could it have been? Maybe Pete had been doing it as a joke. You would wait until he got off of lunch to confront him and tell him how mean that was but for now there was work to do and a show to air.

Night fell and Pete returned just as everyone was preparing for places and you nearly stabbed him with your own finger when he got back. “You asshole!” His arms flew up and the couple steps he took back from you were staggered. “What the fuck?” People shoved past as you pressed on. “You sent all that bullshit to me?” Pete’s face turned on a dime as he registered what you implied. “No! I did not!”

“Do not lie to me, I talked to Michael, he didn’t send them.” You claimed, crossing your arms, brows furrowed so deep you felt like you hadn’t moved your face for ages. “Of course it wasn’t Michael. Michael is gay, Y/N. But that’s not even the top reason why it wouldn’t be him.” You shrugged, throwing your arms and feeling one of them flop to your thigh as your other hand came up to pinch the bridge of your nose. “Then who did?” You released the bridge and looked up with a questioning gaze. Pete only returned with an equally expectant stare.

It registered and your turned towards the cast hallway in horror and surprise. “No.” Your voice sounded distant, even to your own ears. You stood there, frozen, people bumping into you in a hurry as they passed. What was really ten seconds felt like thirty minutes before Pete sighed. “Yes, it was him.”

“And you didn’t tell me?”

“He wanted it to be a surprise! He told me this is what he was going to do and holy shit, finally. I was so sick and tired of you both secretly pining for each other like, what kinda bullshit is that?” Pete rambled for a few moments before finding your unresponsiveness a little tiring and walking off. Your feet moved you before your brain did after that. Back to your office, to put away a couple folders given to you by some bustling assistants, cameramen or more interns, then they carried you back while the anxiety built up. You came back to see John take his place, an assistant handed him a bottle of water and he took a drink, catching your eye. The director began to count. You smiled and he waved back and they hit five seconds. The audience was in place, you were next to camera man A, aka James to oversee how well the script ran and soon enough, John began hosting.

His bit ended sooner than expected and he came straight up to you the moment the cameras were off of him. “Was that okay?” He asked, half jogging up to you, nearly chugging the water he was given. “Yeah, you did great.” You nodded, offering to hold the bottle for him but he shook his head in response. Your head was still reeling, not forgetting about the fact he was the one to send those gifts but not knowing how to ask about it. “I have to do a couple more skits before I can bring you on.” He admitted, signaling you to walk with him. “What?”

“I talked to Lorne and Don. They agreed to let you do a skit with Aidy and I. It’s close to the end and I talked to Inga. She agreed to do your makeup and hair while I go on to do my other ones.” You failed to speak as he explained and all you could do was stutter. “I won’t even know what to say? This is not what we wrote.” You tried to weasel your way out of it. “It’s an improve. You’ll do fine. Kate comes in around the middle so if you start dying she can help.” He nodded with reassurance as you reached his dressing room and opened the door to meet Inga, Louie and Cara. “Oh god.”

You waited in his room long after he left. His costume changers were also there to help, which you were booted for, but welcomed back in as he went on. They changed you into your costume which fit you surprisingly well. Well cut skinny jeans and a nice shirt. Inga did your makeup to compliment your face and eyes and your hair to complete everything. “I must be one of the normal ones in this one, huh?” You quipped and Inga just smiled which, admittedly, worried you. Just as you were about to dwell on it too much, the door opened and Stella, the girl you liked to call the cue girl, opened the door and waved you out. Your breath was shaky and steps were uneven as you made the trek to the stage. She informed you they had three minutes until the commercial break was over, the musical guest would introduce the skit and they would signal you to go on with John. You nodded adamantly, not bothering to tell her you knew how the show ran in fear of throwing up the moment you opened your mouth. Three minutes passed faster than they should have and right before you were about to ask about them rigging the clock, John came up, dragged you to side stage and whispered “Break a leg.” You smiled up at him and his eyes found yours with a soft look. It felt safe. The musical guest walked onto the main stage and introduced the skit. “New Years Eve” they had announced and before you could think of how odd it was, considering it was August, they started counting you down from behind the camera and it was also only then you realized the room was packed with extras all wearing party clothes. You recognize the scene immediately. “When Harry Met Sally.” You muttered. The camera guy’s hands counted down from ten as Aidy rushed you into place. “When John Met Y/N.” She said and winked, walking away. “What?” You asked, panic and confusion now flooded you. The room was so crowded and she was gone before the man hit five. Four… Three… Two… One… Everyone in the room began counting down as the music kicked up and the twinkling of party decor littered the set. Your confusion was appreciated but genuine as John approached you. He had the nerve to drag you into this. Your confusion turned to anger and you no longer cared. “Dammit, John, what the hell is this?” You made a vague gesture around the room. It was improv technically, or at least, you could play it like it was. The look in his eyes told you he knew it wasn’t. “You drag me into your crap the moment you come back like nothing has changed? And you sent me all that other stuff like nothing has happened? Don’t you care about me? Because if you did, you’d know you can’t just walk back into my life like that. It doesn’t work that way.” Your heart gasped. You’d said it. “Well, I do care about you. I care about the way you bite your lip when you get real nervous,” He wasn’t. “I care about how you can never make up your mind whether you want tea or coffee and how, despite claiming you hate me, you still wear my sweatshirt. And most of all I care about how, even after all this time, your laugh hasn’t changed a bit and even after I leave work and go home to my apartment at night, I can still hear it in my head. Away from home, that's what I missed most. And come to think of it, you are what I missed most and it killed me you never knew how much I loved you before I left.” He finished and it took a few moments for the blood to stop rushing in your ears long enough to realize the crowd had stopped counting and you could hear the tail end of the audience’s ‘awe’. “And all this?” “Surprise.” He whispered sheepishly, coming close to your, his arms coming up to your biceps as you had crossed your arms earlier. “You’re an asshole, yknow that?” You smiled, as he leaned down to kiss you. “Believe me, I know.” Your lips brushed his and he smiled through the tender kiss before pulling away. The audience clapped as you both pulled from each other. You looked around. “Did you plan all this just to ask me out on a skit?” You realized cameras were still rolling. He nodded and turned to the camera. “That’s right folks, you just witnessed an elaborate plan to ask the love of my life out on a date instead of an actual skit. That’s something you just paid money for. Thank you all for watching… “ You turned away from him and the giggling audience to find Pete off stage. You smiled softly at him and mouthed ‘thank you’. He smiled and winked in return. “... And goodnight!” John finished and came back to kiss you more as the credits rolled and the music resumed. Maybe he wasn’t stuck up, but he was right about one thing. Famous people are weird.

#john mulaney bull question mark #john mulaney #john mulaney x reader #john mulaney imagine #john mulaney x you

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heungtanbts · 7 years

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re·al·i·za·tion

noun

The moment of sudden clarity when feelings are finally recognized, or are made aware for the first time.

It hit you one late night at the library while you were cramming for and crying over midterms along with the other student zombie population. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary - you were in your regular spot as per usual, inked paper and random notes scattered all around you, the dimming screen of your laptop reflected in your glasses, hair haphazardly pulled back and out of your face. And he was there with you, as per usual, his own laptop illuminating the serious and focused look on his face as he rested his chin on one propped hand while the other worked hard to scroll down his screen on his keyboard. Just two university students, two dormmates, two friends, studying at the library. The only difference between you two? He wasn't studying - oh, no - you knew from the last time you got up and walked past him that he definitely not studying.

He was too busy immersing himself in novels on his e-reader, either that or he was online shopping and silently but not so subtly ooh-ing and ahh-ing at the prospective of buying new jackets and hats. Though it made your blood boil at times (many times, actually), the fact of the matter was simple - he didn't need to study, unlike yourself. So when you thought about it, it was strange how naturally you two even started to "study" together on a regular basis at the campus's main library. It took you a second to remember how it all came to be, but last semester during the first round of exams, you specifically remembered having gotten a call from Namjoon while studying at the library. It was kind of hard to forget, only because you forgot to silence your phone that day and the sound of Epik High's "Fly" bouncing off the high dome ceiling got you some pretty lethal death glares.

You: WHAT NAMJOON

Joonie: WHOA GOOD EVENING CAPS

Joonie: i was jw where u r

Joonie: and if ur down to get bogo smoothies rn

You: my phone went off and now the entire student population probably hates me and epik high now for breaking their concentration thanks to SOMEONE

Joonie: wow, someones just a tad bit sleep deprived and cranky

You: shut up joon

Joonie: hey its not my fault u forgot to silence your phone

You: i hate you. i hate this. i hate everything.

Joonie: arent u being just a little dramatic?

You: well unlike you, us pea brains actually need to study and i havent slept in the last 38 hours and iTS THAT TIME OF THE MONTH OKAY JUST LET ME LIVE

Joonie: .....so is that a no?

You: joon istg

Joonie: y/n jst hurry up and tell me where u r cuz im bout to spill these smoothies amd textng w one hand is hard

You: ...are these smoothies caffeinated

Joonie: no but i got ur favorite

You: peach mango?

Joonie: of course

You: ...2nd floor, east wing reading room

That's when he discovered your study spot, and from then on, he always knew where to find you if he ever, well, couldn't find you. He would often times switch it up from late night bogo smoothies to double shot espresso shot americanos (especially when he knew you were pretty cranky) or on really really terrible nights, forced but much appreciated midnight taco runs. He had always been such a nocturnal person, by choice though, unlike yourself. But you came to appreciate his company more than you thought you would, even more than the caffeine and sweet or greasy foods he'd buy and scarf down with you. You knew he pretty much never studied, and every time he was with you, you'd have to consciously push those thoughts aside or else he'd go from being the most wonderful and caring person to becoming even more hateful in your eyes. And that might make you forget that this was the guy that always stayed up with you during your consecutive allnighters, put up with your stress-related lash outs at him, made sure you ate something regularly because you'd always forget to eat at normal times, and forced you to take the study breaks you didn't think you needed, and he would do this all voluntarily and weirdly enough, very willingly. You'd never asked him to join you, he just did. And even a whole semester later, he hadn't once let you down as your caffeine supplier and even more so, your good friend.

It wasn't until this particular night that it suddenly all hit you at once. Looking up, your eyes traveled to the other side of the table to see him sleeping peacefully, his head resting on his arms on the table, his carefree face and closed eyes facing towards you. It was just a few minutes shy of 3am and it should've pissed you off that he was frolicking along in dreamland while you were desperately fighting against the cravings to shut your eyes for even just a few minutes. But when you saw his sleeping posture, his skin free from any stress lines and wrinkles, plump lips slightly parted, his one cheek starting to turn red from where his knuckles were leaving an imprint, hate was the last thing you felt. It just hit you that Namjoon was right there, not in his own bed sleeping at a normal godly hour, not spending his time doing his own hobbies or with his other friends – he was here, with you.

"Yo."

Before you could stop that one word from leaving your lips, he stirred from his sleep, eyes slowly fluttering open as he took a quick, disoriented look around before squeezing them back shut and reaching his long arms out in front of him, stretching and cracking all the stiff joints in his body. With strands of his brunette locks decorating his forehead and drowsiness clinging to his eyelids, he couldn't have looked so different to you in that moment.

"What's up?" He whispered, his deep raspy voice even lower than it usually was during the daytime. He was staring back at you, his eyes wide open and alert as you took a few seconds longer to think of a reply. What was up? Why did you even wake him up? What did you even want to say to him that was important enough to bother him? You weren't even sure what was going on in your own head. All you knew was that your heart was pounding loudly against your chest, and you had to find out why, you just didn't know how. So you did what any normal person would do if they were to get stuck with a difficult question to answer - shoot a question back at them.

"Why...are you here?"

He looked taken aback, slowly straightening his posture as he shifted to face you straight on. That definitely caught him off guard, but you were even more surprised that you actually asked the question that you didn't even know had been lingering in your mind for some time now. His eyebrows knit together in contemplation as he used the silence to think of an answer to a simple yet not so simple question, and you almost regretted even asking him in the first place. But the flustered look on his face gradually dissipated as his lips curved up into the gentlest of smiles you had ever seen from him, leaning into the palm of his hand yet again, crooking his head to the side so lovingly, his warm chocolatey eyes melting you from the inside out. But his next words would be the ones to really seal the deal.

"Simple – because you're here."

It hit you one late night at the library while you were cramming for and crying over midterms along with the other student zombie population. You had just finished a peach mango smoothie and ditched your studying completely to admire a handsome yet hateful fellow as he captured your heart with his peaceful sleeping posture, his soft dimpled smile, his deep raspy voice, and his warm, comfortable presence. And it suddenly hit you like an oncoming train. There weren’t any fireworks, no blaring sirens or flashing neon signs – you figured out that none of that was necessary to finally have that realization. All you needed was that undeniable moment of clarity. And as he continued to gaze at you, it hit you hard.

You would never be able to look at Kim Namjoon the same ever again.

#namjoon #rap monster #namjoon scenario #rap monster scenario #bts scenarios #bts au #bts imagines #the realization series #gahh thanks for reading all of these guys! :")#hope you guys enjoyed

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