that one and only time thomas was a decent person simply because he felt like it

Misdialed Call (Part Two)

Summary: After an overall bad day, you call your best friend to rant and to vent. But when you accidentally misdial, you end up talking to a complete stranger. What you don’t know is that this stranger may not be a stranger at all. He may even be the world’s first superhero.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Reader

Words: 752

Previous Part: Part One

Originally posted by ohevansmycaptain

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Two of Us | TBS

a/n: as requested by histekia: Thomas Sangster is Y/N new neighbor and has the habit of playing old Rock music at 3 am, what makes Y/N hate her new door buddy more and more. One day when she has to get up early for an audition for the scorch trials movie, she bangs at the door of the Beatles listener and screams and yells at him. one week later Y/N got the job and its her first day on movie set, neighbor was silent since this day, but Y/N has to find out, her new co worker is Rock lover Thomas Brodie Sangster (thanks!)

Pairing: Reader x Thomas Brodie Sangster

Warnings: mild language, drinking mention

Word Count: 2040

~~~

 Life was pretty quiet in your neighbourhood. You lived in a basic, but decent loft in the high rises of New York. The only reason you lived there is your ‘rising’ success in the acting industry. A few commercials here and there and you’ve been extras in movies.  Also you would interview celebrities and such, so that always helped. Soon enough, you gathered enough money to have a place you can call ‘home.’

And you love how there’s no loud noises, if any,  and you were great friends with your next door neighbour, Maria. She was so sincere and you two would always have wonderful conversations. She would always bring the best out of you. 

One day, Maria came in with a box that was labeled, ‘stuff for Y/N.’

“What’s all this for?” you pondered as you rummaged through the box.

“Well,” Maria started, “I was called from my agent saying that I’m moving to LA for getting a role in America’s Next Top Model!”

“Oh, Maria! That’s wonderful news!” you cried.

“These past three years have been amazing experience, and it’s been an honor having you as friend,” Maria choked.

“I couldn’t have asked for a better friend,” you replied.

“Well, I’m already packed up and ready to go, I’m leaving tomorrow and honestly: I’m going to fucking miss you,” Maria giggled.

“Hey, let’s just make the best of it,” you replied as you brought out two wine glasses.

“Cheers!” Maria announced.

“Cheers…”

~~

Days turned into weeks, and you realized how much you missed Maria.

“I’m doing wonderful, Y/N” Maria fawned as you talked through face time on the computer. Maria was talking about a cute guy she’s been chatting up off the screen.

“It’s a damn shame you don’t know anyone that’s interested in you,” Maria sighed as you rolled your eyes.

“I already told you, I don’t need a man right now. I’ve got big plans.” You huffed.

“Sure, sure,” Maria chuckled, “Heard anything about my old ‘home’ being up for grabs?”

“Well, I heard some guy already took it just it a few days ago, and he’s already moved in and everything.” You grumbled.

You must have a sixth sense. Because at that moment, a guy about your age of 23 barged in simply saying, “Can I borrow your phone to call a locksmith?”

“Kitchen counter, you’re welcome.” You blatantly say, not even caring who just came inside your home. It didn’t matter really; it was often that it happens, simply because you’re a nice person… Sometimes.

“Who was that?!” Maria asked suggestively.

“I have no clue, it’s probably some bloke who got locked out,” you replied, surprised at your choice of words.

“Don’t say such a thing! Maybe he’ll be your future boyfriend,” Maria insisted.

“Now you’re just plain wrong. Look, you’ve scared the boy off!” you snickered, wondering where the guy went. Looks like he just, vanished. He probably stole your phone or a prized possesion, but it’s gone now. 

“Okay, okay. Hey, I’ve gotta run! Producers shouted that they want me and all that crap,” Maria sighed.

“Hey, I’ll be cheering you on from the sidelines okay?” you sympathized.

“Alright Y/N, and I’ll cheer you on for the vie to get that movie role!” she cheered.

“Cheers!” you yelled.

“Cheers!” Maria sang.

~~~

3.

It is 3 in the fucking morning. Who in the name of hell, blasts music at such a peculiar hour.

The stupid music has been playing every night around 3 for the past 3 weeks, and whoever blasts the music, they don’t ever stop until exactly at 4:30 in the morning. And it’s always classic rock.  Your neighbor must be some old hippie pothead or wannabe ‘hipster.’ But, you’re not the one to judge.

As you put your ear next to the wall, you realize that the mystery person blasting classic rock songs is specifically your all time favorite band, The Beatles.

“I’ll let you slide this time once again, mystery man,” you chuckled, returning back to practicing your script for your audition later that day.

It’s for a role in this movie called The Scorch Trials. The role you were trying to obtain was for the role of a girl named Brenda.  

You don’t know much about the plot, other than there was a first movie before this one, and that it ‘was critically acclaimed’ and ‘popular’ among the teen population.

You’ve wondered the past years why dystopia-themed movies have been on the rise. Why are teenagers so pumped up of living during an apocalypse? It just doesn’t make any sense.

Is it the plot? The setting? The feeling that you might have a slight chance of defeating the odds? You just don’t know.

Maybe it’s the character’s charisma. Or the movie potrayals. Or maybe the guys are just very ‘attractive.’

Who knows.

“Teenagers are so fucking weird,” you concluded, “I’m surprised I was like that as well.”

You were trying to concentrate long and hard on the script, trying to get into character.

But you just couldn’t. Not with all the racket next door.

You turn on your phone to check the time: 3:46 am.

“Great,” you huffed, “might as well just stay up the rest of the fucking morning.”

But you knew you couldn’t do that, even if your life depended on it. 

Because everybody knows, once you mess up one tiny bit during the audition… you’re fucking done.

And there’re nothing you can do about it.

“Well,” you groaned, “here’s to hopefully having a successful audition.”

“Cheers…” you whispered as you dozed off to sleep.

~~~

One Week later. outside your home. 2:30 PM.

You got the part. The role of Brenda for the The Scorch Trials. And it felt bloody fantastic. The directors even gave you the final listing for the movie, and said ‘better start getting to know them: they’re a handful,” he said as he chuckled.

You walked into your home, and just started to play your own fair share of music (a reasonable volume, of course), while busting out the materials to bake your own celebratory cake. 

.

Hours upon hours went by, and you just celebrated the day, even calling Maria about the news while she was being filmed. it was a real knee slapper that the producers said they might include that bit for their next episode. 

You were so bloody happy that you didn’t know that you just wasted an entire afternoon/evening being alone. And it was alright.

You see on your clock that it says it’s 7 in the evening. 

“Hell yeah time to have a movie marathon,” you cheered.

Then the unthinkable happen: the neighbor started to play their music. This time. it was ‘Helter Skelter’ by the Beatles.

And it wasn’t 3 in the morning.

“Holy shit I’ve had enough of this,” you yelled as you marched out the door and went next door to the neighbor’s door.

You started banging the door and ringing the doorbell, but no one would answer.

“Hey! Whoever the fuck you are: you better fucking stop blasting that music or I’ll call the police,” you boomed as you gave the door a good kick before you stormed off back to your place.

You decided to forget entirely about the movie marathon and chose to do your favorite hobby that calms you down: playing guitar.

You played random chords, to full songs, to your own creations. It was very calming to hear the gentle strum and the occasional foot tap.

Out of nowhere, you started to sing to the song ‘Two of Us’ by the Beatles, and you were in pure bliss.

Every note, chord, and vocal made you lose yourself, and soon enough you singing loud enough so your voice would echo across your home. That song was the first song you’ve ever listen from them, and ever since, it was always you go-to song to have a breather from a long day at work.

As you were singing your heart out to your jam, you didn’t hear the door open. And it completely caught you by surprise and you let out a yelp.

“Oh! i’m so sorry” the worried voice said from the front door,  "am I pertruding you??“

You composed yourself and said, “Oh, not at all!” you said as you blushed as you set down your guitar.

"I just wanted to apologize from earlier,” the guy sheepishly said with his strong accent. It was the same guy that asked for a locksmith just weeks earlier.

“What did you do?” you quizically asked.

“I’ve been responsible for all the loud music for the past month or so,” he responded as he rubbed the back of his neck.

You?!” you exclaimed, “you’re the one that puts the ‘sick’ in ‘classic rock?!’”

“I’m really, terribly sorry if I’ve caused any trouble,” he said as grabbed your hand and started shaking it furiosly.

“oh, no worries!” you chirped, flustered, “if anything, you helped me!”

"And how does that work??”

“Well,” you started, “because of your music, I would stay up later to practice my lines for a role I was auditioning for. And now I have the part!”

“Well, congrats to you!” the guy cheered, “Funny you say that: because I’m here for a movie as well. Well, I didn’t have to audtion because I’m already part of the movie.”

“Wait,” you said, “what movie are you gonna be in?” 

"This movie called The Scorch Trials," the guy responded, "why?”

Then it hit you: the accent, the movie, the director’s words, the hair. it was all connecting.

Quickly you got the cast list you recieved and kept muttering, “oh shit, oh shit, oh shit.

“Is something wrong,” the guy piped up as he trailed behind, wondering what you were doing.

You spun on your heel and said apruptly, “you’re Thomas Brodie Sangster, you play Newt.

Then it clicked to Thomas, “and you’re Y/N, the girl that got the role of Brenda!”

Awkward silence followed after.

“So, you’r a Beatles fan, huh?” you piped up.

“I’m pretty sure everyone is..” Thomas chuckled.

“Favorite member?” you asked.

“Paul, because he plays the bass… and I sometimes do as well,” Thomas said.

“George is my favorite,” you simply said.

Another awkward silence.

“So was that you singing ‘Two of Us?’” Thomas questioned.

“Yeah, it was…” you stammer.

“Well I think you sounded absolutely wonderful,” Thomas complimented, blushung a deep red as he nervously laughed, “you have such an angelic voice.”

"Why thank you,” you beamed. It’s the first time anyone (excluding family and Maria) has ever listened to you sing all alone. You’re usually doing duets at campfires and that’s about it.

“I know this might sound crazy,” Thomas said, “but I think I’ve fallen in love with you”

Your heart froze. You felt butterflies in your stomach as the two of you leaned in for a kiss. The kiss felt wonderful, sweet… Loving. A big, dopey face was on both of your faces, and the two of you couldn’t stop blushing.

“Y/N…” Thomas whispered, “would you like to go on a date with me tomorrow night??”

“I would love to!” you gushed. 

“You’ll never forget it, promise.” Thomas said as he kissed your hand, “how about a jam session to celebrate our new road?”

“Excellent idea,” you said, imitating his accent. You went to your closet and got another acoustic guitar and handed it to Thomas.

The of you went to the couch, and Thomas said, “Let’s sing the song that I heard when I first met you face to face.”

“Two of Us?” you happily asked as Thomas nodded as you started to say your favorite part of the song:

I Dig a Pgymy by Charles Hawtry and the Deaf-Aids

Phase One in which Doris gets her oats.

Thomas laughed as he started strumming the first few chords.

Two of us, riding no where spending someone’s hard earn pay

You and me Sunday driving, not arriving 

on our way back home…

And for the rest of the night, you and Thomas strummed away, forming a close bond.

Just like John Lennon and Paul McCartney.

Only better.

a/n: thank you once again for this prompt! it’s actually one of my favorites. remember: send more ideas! love you guys :) cheers xx

Height Problems...

Originally posted by voidrunners

Fandom: The Maze Runner
Pairing: Thomas x Reader
Warning: N/A
Writer: imaginesofeveryfandom​ aka thequeenofthehobbits
Summary/Request: Requested by poorbakaneko​:  Okay, here goes. Can I ask if you can do an actual tmr fic regarding this request: your the shortest person in the glade and the others are teasing you and Thomas helps you get something.- I saw it and I’m short so this would be nice. Except can you make it multiple scenarios where he’s constantly helping you and eventually you guys confess to each other? Fluffy and romantic please! \>.</

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