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taomyou · 10 months

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The Romance of Reimbursements - Chapter 16

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Reader Status: COMPLETED Summary: There’s a guy you see every Friday on bus 143, and you think he’s pretty hot. It wouldn’t hurt to tell your best friend about him, would it? or, you and Levi take the same bus home from work every Friday, and you fall in love slowly, clumsily, and with all the time in the world to fold as many paper stars as your heart desires. Word Count: 7.7k Tags: slow burn, friends to lovers, modern au, office au, fluff, romance, meet-cute, matchmaking (A/N: this fic is entirely available on ao3 here if you would like to read it there instead!) Chapter Navigation Accompanying Playlist

the feeling not understood

When you're comfortably situated in your usual seat on bus 143 on Monday after work, you reach to take your phone out of your pocket to give yourself something to occupy yourself with for the next 45 minutes. You see a text from Hange, so you smile and go to unlock your phone to read it.

Hange - 5:20 PM

Remember to leave saturday free!!! We're celebrating Moblit's birthday with everyone at Sina's :D

You - 5:22 PM

his birthday is today, right?

Hange - 5:23 PM

Yup!!

You - 5:23 PM

tell him i say happy birthday ^^

Hange - 5:24 PM

What makes you think Im seeing him today?

You smile to yourself and shake your head. Right, they still don't know you know they're together.

You - 5:25 PM

i never said you were going to see him today i simply don't have his number to tell him myself

Hange - 5:25 PM

WAIT HAVE I NEVER ADDED YOU TO OUR GROUP CHAT????? Oh my god I cant believe we've gone this far without adding you IM SO SORRY

You roll your eyes.

You - 5:26 PM

it really isn't a big deal, i don't need anyone's number

Hange - 5:26 PM

NO NO I MUST RIGHT MY WRONGS Honestly tho we never use it anymore bc Levi has had us muted since like february and we have to text him separately anyway STILL I AM SO SO SORRY LET ME ASK THEM RN IF I CAN ADD YOU

Before you can even come up with a way to tell them that you really don't mind that you haven't gotten access to this apparently dead group chat, you see a text from a group chat titled The Hottest People Ever. You giggle at the title before switching over to see what's going on there.

Hange's typing when you get loaded in, but they're taking a while to type out whatever they're trying to say, so you go to check who's in the group chat. There's two numbers you don't have saved (presumably Mike and Moblit), Hange, of course, Levi, and Erwin.

Erwin's number is actually saved as "Erwin (WORK, DO NOT ANSWER)" because you haven't had the chance to change it since becoming better friends, so you quickly remove the parenthetical before clicking back to the chat.

Hange - 5:30 PM

Hello!!! WELCOME TO THE GROUP CHAT ASTRAEA!! Everyone say hi pls :D

Unknown Number - 5:31 PM

Hello! This is Moblit :)

You - 5:32 PM

hi!! happy birthday ^^

You quickly go to add him to your contacts, as well as Mike since he’s probably the other number you don’t already have.

Moblit - 5:33 PM

Oh, thank you!

Everyone else is probably busy, going by the fact that there’s no other texts that come in, so you exit out of the chat to scroll through SNS.

In the middle of you reading some random news article talking about the economy, you get a text from Erwin.

Weird, he never texts you. If anything, he’s the type to only call.

You tap on the notification to see what’s up.

Erwin - 6:05 PM

Sorry for the late notice, but could you stay late tomorrow? I need help with something.

The period at the end of the message comes off as way more passive aggressive than you’re sure he intended, but you still feel intimidated by the relatively minor punctuation.

You - 6:08 PM

Sure.

You cringe when you go to send the message, the capitalization and punctuation too serious for how you normally text, but you figure that’s good enough of a way to respond to Erwin (who was just speaking to you as your boss and not your friend).

You hope that he takes offense to your reply, actually. Who actually wants to stay even later than normal at their fucking office job?

You get home soon thereafter, and while you do your homely chores and get dinner ready, you try your best to take your mind off of the impending doom that awaits you at work tomorrow. Knowing how the workflow has been for the last… four months now, Erwin’s probably asking for your help for the rest of the week and not just Tuesday.

At least you have Saturday’s dinner to look forward to. Maybe you can tell the waiter to pick Erwin’s credit card in the roulette.

✰

The next morning when you leave for work, you're unsurprised to see Moblit walking out of Hange's apartment, arms full with bags of gifts. You both wave to each other in greeting, and because you're both headed in the same direction, you end up walking together.

“Need help with the gifts?”

“No, I’m alright. Thank you for offering, though!”

“You sure? Your arms are, uh, pretty full.”

“Yeah, I don’t mind.”

There’s a door between where you are and where the elevator is, so you go ahead and get that open so he can get through. You push the button for the ground floor, and he thanks you before the both of you step into the lift.

“How’re you and Hange? You guys look really happy together,” you tell him in earnest.

“Oh! Have they finally told you? I thought they wanted to keep it a secret, like, for fun.”

You roll your eyes. “They haven’t, you guys are just terrible at sneaking around.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Yeah, I guess we are. I run into you practically every time I’m leaving their place.”

“Yeah, I don’t really know what you were thinking with that,” you say.

The elevator beeps once you’ve reached the ground floor, and you step out first so you can hold the doors open as he stumbles out. He thanks you, and before you split paths, he answers your question from earlier.

“And we’re great, I feel like I’m falling in love with them all over again,” he beams. “I’ve had a crush on them since uni, but I didn’t really know what to do about it until a couple months ago.”

You reflexively smile and go to put a hand over your heart. Moblit’s such a sweet guy, you really couldn’t wish anyone better for your best friend.

“You guys are so cute,” you gush. “Drop hints to go public, yeah? I have a bunch of candid photos of you and them walking in the courtyard here, and I’m sure Hange would want them.”

He perks up. “Wait, could you send those to me? My phone wallpaper is just an old picture of us at graduation, but I’ve been meaning to change it.”

You nod enthusiastically. “Yeah, of course, I’ll get them to you!”

You wave goodbye to him, and he gives you a nod before heading off to the parking lot and presumably back to his car.

Ugh, you hate the both of them (in a “they’re so cute, I need to strangle them” kind of way).

As you’re walking over to the bus station, you sigh, remembering what Erwin texted you yesterday.

Thinking about it presently, what is there for you to even help him with? He definitely is the better lawyer between the two of you (objectively, at the very least), so what does he need you specifically for?

Yeah, you most definitely will be making sure his card gets chosen on Saturday.

✰

Turns out, Erwin needed you to review some work reports, entrusting the task to you while he's gone at higher-up meetings. You were right to assume that it wouldn’t be just Tuesday—it was Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday.

Reviewing such paperwork isn’t particularly difficult, but it takes fucking forever, and you can’t afford to make any mistakes. Because of this, the next couple of days pass by slowly, with both nothing and everything happening all at once.

Unfortunately, the slow pace doesn’t mean anything anyway because you aren't able to get even a second to breathe, and when you finally go to take your seat next to Levi on Friday at 3:02 PM, you can only greet him with a defeated sigh.

It’s a miracle you’re here at all, considering how late you’ve been coming out of the office for the last 3 days. How you managed to get all of your work done before this exact moment, you have no idea.

You’re too exhausted to try and strike up conversation in the moment, so you prop your briefcase up higher so you can put your head down on it comfortably and close your eyes.

“Sorry, is it okay if I rain check on talking today?” Your voice comes out weaker than you intend it to, but you’re much too tired to pay any attention to it.

You feel a bit of weight at your left side, and you’re unsurprised when you turn to see that Levi’s lightly tapped his shoulder against yours.

“Yeah, get some sleep.”

You hum tiredly. “I don’t need sleep.”

“You sure about that?”

“Yep, I just need to quit my job,” you whine. “Ugh, I still have to go grocery shopping, maybe I’ll go tomorrow.”

“Are you actually going to do that? Quit your job?”

“Of course not, but it’s nice to dream.”

Your mind actually is too busy to let you fall asleep even with your head down, so you just sit there quietly, waiting for the bus to eventually get to your destination.

For whatever reason, it feels like it’s enough to just be sitting next to Levi. Your nerves leave you slowly, and you eventually get to settle further into your spot and enjoy as the scenery passes you by.

It’s the middle of spring, so the flora on the route is in full bloom, lighting up the way with bright colors and visible gusts of pollen.

You wish you could muster up the energy to talk to Levi—to ask him about his week, to tell him about yours.. You’re not physically tired; you very well could.

But when you turn to look at him, he looks content with the silence that covers the two of you, going by his stare out at the same flowery paths that pass by in the window.

You open your mouth to speak, but you can’t find the words to say. Somehow, you can sense that if you do talk, he’s just going to tell you to shut up anyway.

Or maybe he’d look up the definition of “rain check” on his phone to make sure you understand what it means.

You smile gently at the thought before putting your head down again on your briefcase, and you close your eyes. Not really to sleep, but you might as well try to get some of your energy back before heading home.

✰

When the bus’s sound system tells you that you’ve reached Rose, you lift your head from your briefcase and yawn, making sure to cover your mouth. “Get home safe, Levi,” you tell him, slowly blinking yourself awake.

When you wave goodbye to him, however, you’re taken off-guard by the warmth that takes over you when he takes hold of your hand and gently pulls you up.

You get the message quickly enough and scramble to get your briefcase secured in your other hand, but you’re unable to ask any questions as you try to get yourself oriented enough to get off the bus.

You manage to tell the driver a “thank you,” but other than that, you’re at a loss for words until you’re both safely on the sidewalk, the bus leaving a huge gust of wind behind it and blowing both your and Levi's hair in all directions.

The two of you just stare at each other, daring the other to speak, but you hardly feel like you’re the one who has to do any explaining.

And he probably feels the same way, because he wordlessly turns away from you and lightly tugs at your hand. When he starts walking, you have to jog a step or two to catch up with him.

“Where are we going?”

He doesn’t slow his pace, instead giving a squeeze to your hand. The contact is hardly meaningful in that he’s probably only holding your hand to drag you around, so you won’t take it as anything else.

“Surprise.”

Well, you doubt he could take you anywhere surprising, especially when you know that the only things in the immediate area are Magnolia Floral Company, the supermarket, and his car, but you suppose you’ll entertain him. Not like you have anywhere else to be anyway.

When you’re taken to the front of the supermarket, you’re hardly surprised, but you still play along. “The grocery store? I never would’ve guessed!”

He rolls his eyes and flicks your forehead, eliciting a whine from you. “Really, now?”

While you rub at your forehead to make a show of the pain (it really doesn’t hurt at all, it’s just in good fun), he drags you both over to get a shopping cart. He puts his backpack in, and you follow suit with your briefcase.

He lets go of your hand to push the cart, and you feel like you miss the warmth. It’s hardly winter, and the weather is definitely warm enough, but your hand feels… cold, all of a sudden.

Instead of weaving through the lanes like you’d think he normally would, he stops at the very beginning of the produce section and just stares at you.

You blink owlishly at him. “What’re you looking at me for?”

He rolls his eyes, almost ruefully so. “You’re the one who has to get groceries, or did you forget already?”

You raise an eyebrow. “That’s why we’re here?”

“Yes, so start putting shit in and let me pay while you’re at it,” he says. Before you can protest, he continues. “And none of your ‘stop paying me back’ shit, we both know neither of us are letting up anytime soon.”

You’re still frozen in place, at yet another loss for words, but when Levi reaches over to seemingly try and flick your forehead again, you move out of the way to get out in front of him. “Okay, okay, but you have to get something too. I don’t want this to be a waste of your time.”

He scoffs. “As if I have anything better to do right now.”

You lead the both of you through the aisles, looking at anything and everything. You’re hesitant to add things to the cart, but even when you put things back on the shelf, Levi moves to put them in anyway. You chastise him for it, telling him you don’t want him spending too much money on you, but he just flips you off and continues to follow you as you venture through the store.

At the checkout, he’s quick to get ahead of you so you don't get the chance to pay, and you just roll your eyes before loading everything on the conveyor belt.

When the cashier hands the receipt to him, Levi scratches both the singular and total prices out with his nail before handing the long sheet to you. “For you to make your stars.”

You take it from him with a nod, and you tuck it into your pocket before helping him put everything back in the cart. He pushes it out for you, and before you know it, you’re both in front of his car.

“I assume you’re driving me home.”

“No, you’re gonna have to haul all of this stuff back to the bus,” he deadpans. “Yes, get in.”

You laugh. “At least let me help put everything in your car.”

He shakes his head, but he lets you do just that. He wheels the cart back to its designated space in the parking lot after handing you his keys to start the car, and you get yourself situated in the passenger seat after you do that. By the time he comes back, you’ve already torn off your first strip of paper, and you’re looping it onto itself.

He reaches over you to his glove box, and from it, he pulls out a small box of blueberry merlot tea. He puts it between the both of you on the little open space, probably because your hands aren’t free in the moment.

“Did you take me grocery shopping because you forgot to bring the tea with you?” You ask.

He hums to himself as he goes to back out of the parking space, his hand on the back of your headrest. “Maybe,” he replies, “but Erwin’s been complaining about work a lot more than usual, which means you probably had a tough week too. Might as well help make you feel better while you’re here.”

You sigh. “As if it isn’t his fault I’ve been so busy at the office. That fucker asked me to help with reports all week.”

“Or so I’ve heard. Don’t worry, I chewed him out for it already.”

You laugh, and you shake your head. “Thank you, I guess.”

As always, the drive is silent, save for the rustling of paper. You reach your apartment easily enough, and he goes ahead and parks in the parking garage for the building. You hand him the stars you’ve made from the receipt, and he reaches over again for his glove box to put them away.

You know he’s going to do it anyway, so you let him carry some of the groceries up to your apartment with you. When you reach your unit, you get your keys and open the door to let him in to get everything set on the table.

You’re still at the door, watching as he does that, and when he comes back to you to leave, he gives a curt nod.

“Get home safe.”

“Stealing my jokes now?”

“I made it first.”

You blink. “Huh? When?”

He rolls his eyes. “When I dropped you off after our Valentine’s Day disaster.”

You sigh, shaking your head. “You still make fun of me when I say it.”

“It’s only funny when I say it.”

“You get home safe too, then.”

He nods, and you watch as he starts to walk back in the direction you both came from, and before you can stop yourself, you yell out his name.

“Levi!”

He isn’t too far, so the volume really isn’t necessary, but he still turns around. “What?”

You look back and forth between him and the groceries that’re set on your dining table, and you think for maybe two seconds before deciding that it’d only be fair for him to at least have some use for your groceries, seeing as he’s the one who paid for them.

“Do you want to stay for dinner?” You ask.

He stares blankly back at you, but after checking the time on his watch, he eventually shrugs and walks back over to you. “Sure, but only if you let me help cook.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding, and you open the door further to let him inside again. “Okay, fine.”

You go to quickly change out of your work clothes, not wanting to get them dirty with anything in the kitchen, and you bring back the same set of clothes Levi wore last time he was over so he can do the same. He excuses himself to go change, and you hum to yourself as you get everything sorted out so you can figure out what to cook for the both of you. Levi comes back out relatively quickly, his work clothes neatly folded up, and he sets that at the edge of your dining table before joining you in the kitchen.

You aren’t able to figure out what you should make, but it seems that Levi has more cooking knowledge than you when he naturally takes initiative in deciding for the both of you. Of course, he asks you if it’s alright to use any ingredients before he does, but you wave him off every time and tell him that he doesn’t need to keep asking.

You let him guide you throughout everything, listening along as he directs you to chop this, stir that, whatever it is. There isn’t much room for any other conversation, but that’s fine with you.

Dinner gets made quickly enough, and with a pot of blueberry merlot tea between the two of you, you start to eat.

You take a sip of the tea first, though, and you give it a solid 7/10. He does the same, but he gives a 5/10, citing the fact that it doesn’t have caffeine as reason for its lowered rating.

You both take the time now to talk about work, since you weren’t able to earlier on the bus, and conversation flows easily. Talking about the misery of the last workweek makes up for the trouble because it lets you completely let go of any of the anxieties you had about it, and when Levi talks about the hell that is grading college papers, you know he feels the same as you do.

After you’re both done venting about work and your coworkers and your clients and practically everyone else in the world, the topic shifts over to Moblit’s birthday dinner the next day.

“Are you bringing a present?”

He shakes his head. “He’s not a gifts person, never accepts them from anyone.”

You go to cover your mouth to stifle your giggle. “Right, right.”

“How’s that funny?”

“I saw him leaving Hange’s place on Tuesday, he was bringing home a bunch of gifts from them.”

Levi sighs, shaking his head again. “I would say I’m surprised, but I’m not.”

“Does he like sweets? I’d feel awkward showing up without at least that.”

“That’s not a terrible idea, but knowing him, he’s probably going to give it all to Hange.”

“That’s alright, still better than nothing,” you muse, swirling the teacup in your hand. “We could make something together. Maybe you could bring some of it home for Isabel and Furlan, too?”

Levi hums. “If you’re fine with it.”

You nod, going to take another sip of your tea before gathering your now-finished plate and utensils to bring to the sink. You hold out another hand to Levi’s spot at the table, and he shoos your hand away before getting up himself to put his tableware into the sink.

He tries to start washing them, but you gently shove him out of the way before turning on the faucet.

“Remember what we said? No washing dishes at the other person’s place.”

He doesn’t give any contest, but he grabs the small dish towel that hangs on a ring above your sink, and he waits next to you so that he can dry the dishes before putting them away.

The running water is loud enough to fill your relatively small apartment, so neither you nor Levi feel any need to talk. While Levi finishes up with drying and putting your tableware away, you take out your recipe book from one of the upper cupboards.

You check the time on your phone: 7:31 PM.

It's quite late already, so you flip through the pages to try and find something that doesn’t take that long to make. Levi is done with getting everything put away shortly thereafter, and he comes up next to you to watch as you figure out what to make.

“Is there anything he likes in particular?” You ask.

“He likes brownies,” he answers. “Do you know how to make those?”

You look over at him, mock offense on your face. “You think I don’t know how to make brownies?”

He puts his hands up, sarcastically so. “Sue me.”

You shake your head with a smile, and you go to close your recipe book. “I will.” You start heading over to your cabinets to get the ingredients, knowing already what you need. “Could you get some eggs and butter from the fridge? Just take out everything you can find.”

“Yeah.”

Soon enough, there’s a hefty pile of ingredients on your kitchen counter, and now you’re the one directing Levi to do things. You turn on the oven and get the ingredients measured out, but you leave everything else up to Levi.

Brownies are certainly not complicated and you could have very easily just made these on your own, but you still feel happy to be making them with him. He struggles a bit here and there, but he doesn’t give up, which is more than you could say for Hange whenever you’re in these situations with them.

It’s weird. Ordinarily when you teach other people how to bake, they feel more like a hindrance to the process than any help.

You let Levi finish mixing the batter while you get the pans prepared, and you can see a faint smile on his face when he goes to pour it all in.

It warms your heart to know that he’s having fun, even if he doesn’t quite know what he’s doing.

You’ve just finished putting away the dirtied utensils and food scale, so you come over to where he is so you can help scrape off the rest of the batter from the bowl.

You quickly get some star confetti sprinkles from your cabinet to put on top (you know, to make the brownies more birthday-esque, or whatever), and you hand the shaker to Levi once the lid’s off.

After that, you open the oven door for him to slide the pans inside, and you close it once they’re all neatly put in.

Looking over at him now, you laugh when you’re met with a better view of his flour-dusted front. “Can I take a picture?”

“Fuck no,” he scoffs. “How long do they take in the oven?”

You shrug. “40 minutes, give or take.” He looks past you and at the bathroom, and so you assume he wants to wash up. “You can shower, if you’d like.”

“I am never taking a shower here ever again,” he laments. “I’ll just go change back into my work clothes.”

“My shower really isn’t that hard to use, but that's fine,” you tease.

He walks past you and into the bathroom, making sure to stop by at the dining table to pick up his clothes on his way there. You go ahead and get started on washing even more dishes, and you hum to yourself as you scrub them clean.

Levi comes back just in time to grab the drying towel a second time, and he does that next to you while you wash the soap off your arms.

For the rest of the time the brownies bake, you and Levi migrate over to the couch and turn on the TV. Thankfully, you find a decently entertaining episode of Shark Tank to put on, and you and Levi shout at the TV when the contestants pass on offers from the Sharks or when the investors say something stupid.

The oven beeps to tell you that the brownies are ready, so you excuse yourself to go take those out to cool. You’re quick in doing so, and not even three minutes later, you’re back on the couch, screaming at Mark Cuban for passing on an especially cute line of plush animals.

You and Levi spend the next hour or so keeping up with this. Thankfully, all the contestants in this extended episode are incredibly bad at their pitch, so there’s no hard feelings from either of you when practically all of them leave the Tank without any deals.

You doubt that Levi understands the business lingo any better than you do, but you’re glad he finds as much fun in yelling at the screen as you do.

The ending credits roll, and you stretch upwards, yawning. “What time is it?”

Levi checks his watch. “10:15.”

You hum. “Let me get some brownies for you to take home.” You get up from your spot on the couch, and Levi follows closely after you. You grab some cellophane bags, twist ties, and star tags from your cabinet, as well as some disposable gloves for yourself.

You move everything over to the dining table so you can sit while you work, and when you come back with a knife to cut everything, Levi’s there too.

“Can I help?”

You nod with a lazy smile on your face.

“Please.”

You slip on your gloves after giving the bags to Levi, and you carefully go to cut out neat squares from the pans.

“Where’d you learn how to bake?” He asks.

You sigh. “It’s been a while since anyone’s asked me that.”

“Sorry,” he apologizes quickly.

“No, you’re good.” You hum as you reangle your knife to start going in the perpendicular direction. “I don’t know, everywhere? I watched my mom do it as a kid, and I picked it up as a hobby when I was in high school.”

“You didn’t come out of the womb with a whisk?”

You snort. “No, but I might as well have. Could you open a bag for me?”

He does, and you slip in the first brownie.

“Thanks.”

“Did you ever want to be a baker? Not that law isn’t admirable either.”

You nod, careful as you continue putting away brownies. Levi continues holding out bags for you to do it efficiently.

“A little, but I didn’t really consider it when I got older. It’s still fun, though, I like it a lot,” you tell him.

“Evidently.”

You smile, shaking your head. “Yeah, I’m sure.” One of the brownie’s hasn’t been cut properly, so you set that aside for you and Levi to have later. “It’s nice anyway, everyone likes being friends with the baker, so it made socializing easier for me.”

“Had trouble making friends?”

You shrug. “I guess, yeah. I was always busy with school, so I never really went out. Baking just gave me another crutch.”

He nods in understanding. “If it’s worth anything, I don’t think anybody now only sees you as a free baker.”

“Not even Isabel?”

He scrunches his nose and aggressively shakes his head. “Absolutely not, she never fucking shuts up about how much she loves you.”

You laugh. “She’s a sweet kid.”

“Hange used to call you ‘Sugar,’ though. Before we knew your name.”

You cringe. “That’s the name they chose for me? I couldn’t get something cooler?”

He nods nonchalantly. “They would not shut up about how they hit the jackpot getting you as a neighbor because you’d always come over with snacks for them.”

You laugh at the memory. “Yeah, I was still used to baking for groups of people, and I didn’t know what else to do with my leftovers.”

By now, all the brownies have been put into their bags, so you go to throw away your gloves, get the pans in the sink, and come back with two pens to write on the tags. You hand one to Levi, and you tell him to just write whatever he wants for Isabel and Furlan, and you can do the tags for Moblit.

You make sure to put that one misshapen brownie on a plate between the two of you, and while you write, you both take small pieces from it.

“Did Hange ever give me a different name or did they stick with Sugar?” You ask.

“You know them, they never change names for anyone,” he complains. “They say it works anyway, since you’re apparently so sweet.”

“What, you don’t think I am?” You tease. You’re both looking down at your writing so you don’t catch his reaction to that, but he does take a while to respond.

“I never said that.”

The two of you continue writing on the tags in silence, and soon enough, all of them are being looped onto iridescent twist ties. There��s more than enough for Levi to take home with him even after you have a good amount prepared for Moblit, so you have to excuse yourself to grab a bag for him to put his share in.

You hold the bag open for Levi to put everything inside, and you laugh when you see that he’s addressed Isabel and Furlan with curse words instead of their names on his tags. He helps you put Moblit’s share into some boxes that you had leftover from when you made all that shortbread for him a while ago.

You watch as Levi slides on his shoes, and before you can open the door to let him out, you remember he still has your clothes.

“You can just leave the clothes you borrowed here.”

“I don’t mind taking care of it.”

You wave him off. “It’s okay, I’m doing laundry tomorrow anyway.”

“If you say so.” He unloops one of his backpack straps to bring it forward and take out your clothes.

You take them from him. “Yeah.” You go to open the door for him, and he steps out into the hallway.

You bring your hand up to wave goodbye to him, but before you can actually do the motion, he brings his hand up too. You half expect him to grab your hand again, like he did on the bus, or maybe even give you a hi-five, but instead, he swipes at your cheek with his thumb.

Again, it feels warm—comfortable. You almost feel yourself wanting to lean into the touch further, but his hand doesn’t linger on your skin for any longer than it needs to.

He flips his thumb back to you. “Crumb.”

You nervously laugh, rubbing the back of your neck with your already raised hand. “Right, thanks. Get home safe, Levi.”

“You too.”

“I’m sure I will.”

This time, when you watch his figure disappear around the corner of your apartment floor’s hallway, you don’t call after him.

You almost wish you do, only to see his face again before he has to go.

✰

The next day, you feel… confused as you go through the motions of your morning and afternoon. Hange comes over at around 4 to get ready with you, and you manage to fend off the nerves, but they come back again in the car.

For once, you’re grateful their driving is so horrendous. If anything, you’ll just let the feeling of crashing be more paramount than anything else.

Nothing even happened last night. Nothing insurmountable, at least. He went grocery shopping with you, drove you home, you invited him inside to make dinner and dessert with you, and he left.

But the feeling—this one, where you feel so comfortable—you don’t know what to do with it.

It doesn’t have you red in the face. It doesn’t fill your stomach with butterflies. It doesn’t force you to shy away from spending time with him.

If anything, it prompts you to do exactly that. It’s weird. It’s so glaringly different from the attraction you felt in the beginning, when you didn’t know his name and he was just another stranger you saw on the bus once a week.

Do you even have to figure this out? It could very well just be something completely normal, and you’ve been overthinking it this entire time.

Hange suddenly stops the car, which snaps you out of your thoughts. Though you’re grateful for the mental break, you have to grip even harder than you already were on the grip handle above your seat.

“What the fuck, man!?”

They only laugh before going to take their key out of the ignition. “Well, we’re here!”

You shudder before getting out of the car, careful not to forget anything, and the two of you join the others in the waiting area. You’re the last to arrive, courtesy of Hange’s poor driving skills, and you watch as they naturally drift towards Moblit.

Mike and Erwin, upon seeing you and Hange enter, go to the reservations desk to presumably tell them “table for Smith,” and that leaves you and Levi alone with each other. You raise the boxes of brownies you brought with you, and he nods in acknowledgement of it.

“Did Isabel and Furlan like them?” You ask, unsure of what else to talk about.

“They liked them too much,” he whines. “Begged me for the recipe and everything.”

“I don’t have one written down, but I can do that on a napkin while we wait for our food,” you offer.

“That’d be nice,” he says. You nod, and then your group of six are guided by a hostess.

The rest of the night is a whirlwind, spurred by Hange’s excitement to celebrate their boyfriend’s birthday with their other friends present. You hand Moblit his brownies, and like the saint he is, he thanks you before splitting it up between everyone at the table. You, Levi, and Erwin refuse them, but he insists that he’d rather share than have to take so many of them home.

You aren’t able to write out the recipe on a napkin as promised because the napkins are fabric, but after figuring out the measurements for a more… manageable batch, you text the information to Levi.

Levi does actually call over the waitress to bring over paper napkins for you, just like when you both came here on Valentine’s Day, and you thank him before starting to tear at the paper. You hand that one to Levi, and instead of rejecting it like you expect him to, he takes it and waits for you to make yours so he can follow along again.

When the food eventually comes to your table, all six of you can do is eat in silence to savor the expensive taste as well as you can. There’s no drinking tonight, probably because everyone drove here in smaller groups and it’d be too inconvenient to figure out how to get home, but it’s still lively and exciting.

Towards the end of the night, you and Hange slip away to “the bathroom” to tell the waitress that it’s Moblit’s birthday and to pick Erwin’s credit card, and when you come back, you both have to act surprised when the whole restaurant starts singing Happy Birthday and when Erwin gets fucked by the expensive bill.

Levi seems to catch on that you’re responsible for Erwin losing the roulette, but he only rolls his eyes and doesn’t make a scene out of it.

When everything’s paid for and everyone’s back outside, just about ready to part ways for the night, Hange winces.

“What’s wrong?” You ask.

They nervously go to scratch behind their ears. “Do you think you could find another ride home? I totally forgot to tell you, but I’m going over to Moblit’s to, uh,” their gaze drifts off to their not-so-secret lover, “test some liquor!”

You should’ve expected as much, but it’s no trouble.

Get some, Hange!

You wave them off, and you look around at the group. “I’m sure least one of them have a seat to spare.”

They wrap you in a warm hug, nearly crushing you, and you return the gesture with just as much enthusiasm. “Thank you, thank you, thank you! I love you so much!”

You try to wiggle out of their grip after a while, but they don’t really let up, instead rocking back-and-forth with you still in their arms.

Their grip on you finally loosens up when Levi comes up to you, and he practically has to pry them off of you before they let go. You thank him, and Hange’s off to go… test liquor with Moblit, the two of them headed for where Hange parked their car.

Erwin chimes in first. “Mike and I live in the opposite direction, so you can go with Levi.”

“Is that okay with you?” You ask him.

Instead of answering, Levi goes to stomp (lightly) on your toes, and you take that as a yes.

You and Levi give your goodbyes to the other two men, and you follow him to his car.

This sure does feel like a repeat of Valentine’s Day. It's parked in the exact same spot.

When you’re both in the car and about ready to leave, he hands you the receipt, telling you that Erwin forgot to take it before he left. You thank him for the paper, and you promptly start tearing and folding it.

The ride is completely silent, again, with only the sound of crinkling paper filling the vehicle, but it’s comfortable. Almost alarmingly so.

You drop the stars into the palm of Levi’s hand when he’s parked at the curb of your building, he reaches over to put them away in his glove box, and nothing is said other than a “get home safe” from the both of you.

When you get safely inside your apartment, you don’t even know what you’re supposed to do.

At least when you were constantly anxious and high-alert around Levi, you could at least find reason to denounce those feelings and get rid of them.

Maybe you should ask Erwin to give you extra work this week to distract yourself.

Who are you kidding, you definitely aren’t going to do that.

Still, when you go to sleep that night, you wish for more opportunities to skip on thinking about it entirely, and even more opportunities to just enjoy the feeling while it’s there.

✰

Both fortunately and unfortunately, your wish is granted to you.

Unlike last week, this week is fast. It rushes past you, works you as hard as it can, and spits you out without so much as a “thank you” for your efforts.

Erwin, bless his heart, apologizes profusely and comes by your office often to check up on you, but you barely spare him a glance whenever he passes through.

The only silver lining in any of this is that Friday comes just as quickly. That and the fact that the hustle and bustle doesn’t give you any time to overthink any of your feelings.

When you go to take your seat on bus 143 at 3:09 PM on Friday, you have to put your head down after you hand Levi his tea. You ask for another rain check, and Levi doesn’t make any fuss about it before taking out his phone to busy himself.

Unfortunately, because there’s a lot of traffic on this particular Friday, there’s plenty of starts and stops, all of which break you out of your resting state. The sounds of city bustle don’t help either. When the bus comes to a sudden halt for what feels like the hundredth time in the last ten minutes, you groan and lean your head back, looking up at the ceiling.

You chuckle halfheartedly. “Maybe I should just jump out the window and walk the rest of the way home.”

Levi scoffs next to you. “We’re still in the city, you might as well stay here until Monday.”

“That’d be better than getting shaken awake every three seconds.”

“You were sleeping?"

“I wasn’t, but I can’t really rest with the traffic. My briefcase isn’t the most comfortable thing in the world either.” You sigh and prop your elbow on your lap, resting your head on your hand. “So, how was your week? We might as well talk if I can’t keep my eyes closed.”

He doesn’t say anything, so you naturally turn to look at him. He’s propping up his backpack straighter on his lap, and he slides his phone into the front pocket.

He turns to look at you when that’s done, and the two of you hold eye contact before he looks away and out the window in front of your seats.

“You can rest on my shoulder.”

You lazily shake your head. “No, it’s okay. That’s probably uncomfortable for you, and you seem tired enough from work.”

“You literally look like you’re about to fall forward,” he scolds. “And no talking, you need to rest.”

“Geez, you make it sound like I’m sick or something,” you joke.

“Picked it up from you,” he contests.

You follow his gaze out towards the window, and you hum. “But it’s okay, I can stay up.” As if on cue, you have to yawn, and you can see Levi shake his head out of the corner of your eye.

Before you can bark out something to dismiss any further scolding, you hear him turning towards you again. You wait, still staring out the window, but you watch as his left hand reaches over to push your head gently onto his right shoulder.

It feels awkward, honestly, and you kinda want to laugh.

You’d think the touch was romantic, but it hardly is when he struggles to reach over the backpack in his lap and your briefcase, and the bumps of the roads that knock you back-and-forth hardly do anything to help the atmosphere either.

But still, the act has you breaking out into a shy smile.

Had it been months ago, you probably would’ve passed out then-and-there from just his touch alone, but you don’t feel any red creeping up at all.

Just a quiet, comfortable glow in your chest, and a smile that acts as a silent thanks to him for lending you his shoulder for the rest of the ride.

He pulls his hand away from your head, and he reorients himself to look outside again, and he sits up straight against the back of the seat. You don’t dare move your head away, instead just slightly turning to look at his face, and you close your eyes once you see that he's comfortably settled back into his seat.

“So, how was your—”

“Just shut the fuck up,” he mumbles.

You sleepily hum. “You like silencing women?”

He groans. “Fuck off.”

You laugh and shake your head, position permitting. You close your eyes, and you hum to yourself as you try to find your sleep.

Yeah, you can figure out your feelings later.

You know you definitely shouldn’t be continuing to put off the emotionally daunting task, but you definitely don’t want to confront anything right now.

You still think it’s weird, that much hasn’t changed. And this is definitely not normal. That much is apparent, more so now than before when you were first starting to question things halfheartedly.

All you need to know is that here, with him, you’re comfortable.

For you, it’s enough to know that. Even if it isn’t, you’re okay with not knowing anything else, so you'll just spend the next... however many minutes left of your ride through the traffic, with him, trying to imprint the comfort that he gives you into yourself as well as you can.

✰

Next Chapter

#attack on titan #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #tao.levi #levi ackerman #levi aot #the romance of reimbursements #levi #fanfiction

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uhhlucid · 2 years

Text

Part. 8

pairing: iwaizumi x black!fem reader

synopsis: on pointe! (updated weekly) previous parts in masterlist

word count: 2.3k

type: fanfiction

a/n: i really struggled with the ending here lmao

Y/n woke up around three to a note on the table. Mrs. Aveline took Frankie, Oikawa, and I for ice cream. Elissa agreed to go with you for costumes. Y/n couldn't see how Oikawa nor Frankie could accept that offer. Traitors, she thought. Since she hadn't gotten the chance last night, she hopped in the shower. The warm water hitting her skin helped her to relax.

She turned the water off and wrapped herself up in a towel after stepping out. She texted Elissa to meet her in front of the male dormitory in 45 minutes. The led mirror her mom had bought when she first arrived came in handy while she did her makeup. Since it was just shopping she wore a pink tube top and flared jeans.

She slid on her older cousin's hot pink jelly platform sandals and grabbed her purse. She did a quick once-over in the mirror and left the room. As promised Elissa was out on the male dormitory steps with Carter and Iwaizumi. Her hair was freshly silk pressed and she wore a white beanie. A long sleeved white crop and baggy khaki pants that almost completely covered her shoes was her outfit of choice.

"Hey. I can't believe Oikawa and Frankie took up her offer," Elissa stood up when she saw Y/n. "I expected Lia and maybe Oikawa, but Frankie?" "Oh well. Let's just go find some costumes. I've already found the main pieces for mine." The four headed off campus to the nearby party store. "What are you two going as?" "Princess Peach and Mario. You'll see the costumes tomorrow."

Iwaizumi opened the door to the party store and a wave of cool air greeted them. The store had all sorts of spooky decorations and moving props. The only visible worker seemed uninterested behind the counter as little kids ran around with candy and costumes in hand. The shelves seemed overstuffed despite Halloween being tomorrow. The group walked to the back where there were changing rooms and adult costumes.

Y/n combed through the isles looking for an alien costume with Iwaizumi close behind. "Can we use these?" He held up two spandex alien costumes. "How will we breathe Haji?" He shrugged. "This is the one Oikawa and Lia got." "Fine we'll get it." Iwaizumi grabbed the two costumes and headed for the front counter. Meanwhile Elissa and Carter were looking for accessories.

They had to go to the kids section to find a Mario hat. Carter was glad Elissa had come up with the costumes. He hadn't even had time to take her on a real date yet. The thought had been nagging him since Thursday. He had to practically beg his parents to go out on Halloween and had accidentally mentioned that he was going out with someone so naturally they wanted to meet her.

He watched Elissa grab white gloves for the two of them. "What's on your mind?" she asked him. She ran a few fingers through his dirty blonde hair that reached the base of his neck. He gave her a small smile. "Nothing. Let's keep shopping." They bought the closest shoes they could find to the original character and headed for the front. Iwaizumi and Y/n were already there waiting. Carter offered to pay for everyone despite it being the last of his allowance for the month.

Iwaizumi and Y/n said they were going to take a detour and meet them later. Carter wondered what that was about, but didn't dwell on it much. "Something's bothering you Carter," Elissa stopped and looked dead in his face. "It's nothing you have to worry about," he tried to continue walking. "I think it is." He sighed. Elissa sure was persistent. "It's just about the party. That's all."

"Omg you haven't told your parents?" "I did. Maybe I said more than I should've." "Your being really vague right now. What else is bothering you?" He wanted so badly to say the fact I haven't taken you on a date. "I wanted to hang out with you, but I just blew my allowance." "Just wait till Tuesday when you get a new one. Is that really all?" His parents would kill him if they knew he hadn't made the first move. Or any types of moves at all. She always initiated any type of physical contact.

He nodded. "That's all. Let's go try on our costumes."

Iwaizumi and Y/n were going to have an ice cream party of their own. Iwaizumi wondered why Oikawa had even accepted the offer. He couldn't let that ruin his day however. Tomorrow was finally the day he'd been waiting for all summer. The pair reached their destination. A corner store. The freezer with all the ice cream was right by the door on the right side. They gained a few odd stares from other patrons as they gathered all the ice cream they could.

From bars, to sandwiches, to cones, to pints of ice cream; they set it all on the counter. The attendant raised an eyebrow, but rang them up. Iwaizumi and Y/n split the bill and grabbed the bags. They left the building and sat on the sidewalk out front. "I bet Oikawa isn't eating this much ice cream right now." Y/n took her first bite of a twisted chocolate and vanilla cone.

Iwaizumi agreed and opened one of the pints of ice cream. They obviously couldn't finish it all and began giving it away to kids passing by until all of the ice cream was gone. "We should get back. I bet Mrs. Aveline is back by now," Iwaizumi suggested. Y/n nodded and they walked the eight blocks back to their school.

After walking up the main steps and going through the administrative building, they reached the main campus. Students were sprawled out everywhere practicing. Iwaizumi and Y/n headed to the female dormitory. There were lots of people on the first floor, chatting, stretching, and doing whatever they like before the big party.

Lia was nowhere to be found in Y/n's dorm which meant she had to be in Oikawa's. Iwaizumi took the costume out of the packaging and went into the bathroom to change. He noticed their bathroom was significantly cleaner and had more lotions and shampoos. He quickly changed and left the bathroom.

Iwaizumi was surprised he could see out the costume and even more surprised he could breathe. He saw Y/n in her costume sitting on her bed. She giggled. "Who're you texting?" "Lia." "What's so funny?" "Nothing. Tomorrow's going to be veeery interesting." Iwaizumi thought Y/n was acting really weird especially since she was agreeing with Lia. He took off the costume and changed back into regular clothes. As he was heading out, Lia was heading in. She had various bags and when asked about it she simply laughed.

Iwaizumi left the two girls alone and could only wonder what they were up to.

"Kourtney c'mon we kissed. You can't deny it now." Kourtney turned the other way. She twirled her hair around her finger. "All I'm asking is that you go with me," Serenity gave her a genuine smile. Kourtney knew this was bad. She knew Serenity had an addiction problem and was extremely toxic. She took Serenity's hand. "Sure. I'll go with you." "Great. Let's go get dressed." Serenity took Kourtney to her dorm.

Elissa was still sleeping when they arrived. Serenity yapped about how pretty Kourtney was while she was doing Kourtney's makeup. Kourtney knew she was just saying that to convince her more. This wasn't the first time she'd been wrapped around Serenity's finger. She grabbed her handheld mirror and pushed it into Kourtney's hand. "Don't you look so pretty?" Kourtney nodded in agreement.

"Your dress is hanging up in the bathroom. Hurry though cause I need to use the sink for the hair wax." Kourtney peered in the bathroom to find a bodysuit that looked like it was made out of leaves with a green sheer piece that connected at the waist and had the leaves spread out on it. There wasn't a full length mirror in the bathroom so she had to step out to see herself.

Serenity was busy doing makeup and didn't notice Kourtney come out. After twirling in the mirror a few times she sat next to Serenity. Serenity glanced at her. "You look pretty. I'm going to take a while." Kourtney nodded and glanced around the room. It wasn't her first time here. The windows were always open and the wet rags by the window were turning dry. Serenity must've been smoking earlier.

Kourtney watched Elissa's sleeping figure. She wore a shirt that was way too big and she wondered where'd she got it. Serenity suddenly got up and went into the bathroom. Kourtney was scrolling mindlessly on her phone when a sudden noise scared her. "Kourtney? What time is it?" "Like eight forty-five why?" "Fuck how long was I sleeping?" The sun was already beginning to go down and they hadn't even left yet.

Kourtney watched Elissa grab a pink dress from the closet and set it on her bed. Serenity emerged from the bathroom with her hair split dyed red and black in two pigtails. She had a spiky black choker that Kourtney didn't remember Harley wearing. She had fishnets up to her chest with a split black and red cropped tank with the black and red diamonds on either side.

The shorts were also split black and red but were opposite of the shirt. The shorts barely covered her ass. Typical Serenity. She had the split gloves and socks with regular black combat boots. "Let's go Kourtney." "I can't even get a hi?" Elissa asked." "Hey. Now let's go." Kourtney gave Elissa a sympathetic look and followed Serenity.

Elissa rolled her eyes. Kourtney was so scared of Serenity. Serenity knew better then to treat that poor girl like that, but that was none of Elissa's business. Elissa took a quick shower and brushed her teeth. She was admiring her reflection in the mirror when her phone buzzed. Carter had texted her. She quickly responded and put on her dress. Someone knocked on her door and before she could answer, she already heard the door open.

"Elissa c'mon. We're about to leave," the voice sounded like Y/n. Elissa finished putting on her accessories and carefully opened the bathroom door. Y/n and Lia were right outside it. They wore matching iridescent tube tops and skirts with green body paint. Lia had even dyed her hair a silvery color with glitter pieces. "I thought you guys were wearing spandex suits." "There was a change in plans," Lia explained.

The three headed out the female dormitory and towards the train station. It was extremely crowded because of Halloween night and Carter's house was all the way out in the suburbs. The train stopped and they got off. Elissa lead the way to a neighborhood with beautiful front lawns and huge driveways. They stopped in front of a house with a huge wraparound porch.

Carter was anxiously pacing the porch while waiting for them outside. "I didn't think you'd show." He greeted Elissa with a kiss on the cheek. "Serenity woke me up late." Elissa rolled her eyes. Carter led them inside down a winding hallway and down the stairs. Shots were being passed around while the music blared. Lia went off to find Oikawa while Y/n and Elissa headed off to dance.

"I didn't think you were serious about having a girlfriend." "Brittany you scared the fuck out of me." Brittany was nearly as tall as Carter and they had been childhood friends for years. Brittany went to one of the local high schools however. Tonight she was dressed as Cassie from Euphoria, already possessing the blonde hair and cheer uniform. "Why would I lie about having a girlfriend?" "I don't know you're just sorta shy?" "I'm not shy." "You are around girls. And let me be the first to tell you. You have a really pretty girl." "I am not shy around girls." "Did you make the first move?" Carter ignored Brittany's question.

He knew she was smiling to herself under the dim lighting. "Who wants to play Never Have I Ever?" Brittany screamed loudly. The crowd erupted in hoots and hollers and those who wanted to participate sat around in a circle. Carter sat in between Elissa and Ronald, one of his friends from school, for the game. He noticed he didn't see Y/n and Iwaizumi but didn't focus on it. Drinks were passed around in the standard red plastic cups and the game began.

At first it was simple stuff like cheating on a test, but then it got amplified to stuff like never have I ever had a threesome. He watched Elissa drink more then he had expected her too. "Carter your friend Brittany is so fun. You should've introduced me sooner." Brittany shot him a wicked grin when Elissa said this.

The party had been too loud for Iwaizumi to get his point across to Y/n. They snuck out the back door and were now sitting on the edge of Carter's pool dipping their toes into the water. "I've been meaning to tell you something and I haven't gotten the chance yet, so I figured now would be a good time," Iwaizumi stared directly into Y/n's eyes.

"What is it Hajime?" "I wanna be your boyfriend." Iwaizumi waited a few seconds for her reaction. He opened his mouth to speak just as Y/n kissed him. Her tongue explored his throat as she cupped his face. She pulled away and gazed into his eyes. "Shall we head back?" Y/n nodded and the two went back inside

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sebstanseabass · 3 years

Text

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 8

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

CHAPTER EIGHT

Bucky entered the bar wearing a neat, black expensive suit, a Rolex sticking out of his left sleeve. He unfastened two buttons by his waist and flung both sides of the suit in the air before sitting down on the stool. He rolled up his sleeves, his lean forearms in plain sight under the incandescent lights hanging by the counter.

Your eyes lingered longer than they should have so you shook your head and ignored his gaze, getting back to work.

"Fancy seeing you back here, James." Out of nowhere, a slight giggle came out from your mouth, pushing the tap handle up and briskly pushing Bucky's hand away. Your eyes found his, whilst you waited for the liquid to fill the beer mug. "I'll get back on you later. I have to give this beer to that son of a bitch over there."

You glanced at the man from earlier who was still giving you a death-like stare.

Bucky responded with a short chuckle and waited for you to finish. You opened your mouth to call Nick but decided against it, calling for Nat instead, who was holding a tray of chicken wings. Nat usually only had three shifts a week but since you were understaffed this week, she had the decency to help out.

"By the way, is Peter here?" Bucky asked.

You glanced at Peter's briefcase. "Yes, he came here straight from an urgent work thing. He just needed to go to the toilet."

"Good, good, that's good." He kept nodding his head, staring at absolutely nothing at all.

You waved your hand in front of his face. "Bucky? You okay?"

"Yeah, no, I'm good." He answered but you weren't convinced. He looked at Peter's briefcase and the beer bottle beside it. "Is that Peter's drink?"

The realization dawned on you once those words slipped out of his mouth. You pursed your lips then nodded. "I tried talking him out of it before but he never listened. You know how Peter is. Stubborn as a damn rock."

"That he is."

"Are you going to talk to him about it?"

"I think so, but not now. I think now's not the right time." He replied. "So, how about that drink, doll?" He asked, swiftly changing the subject.

You ignored the shivers starting to slither on your skin when you heard his little nickname for you. You have been called other nicknames in the bar, including doll, but not one had an effect on you.

Except Bucky.

While grabbing a glass on the counter, you continued to stare at him you felt absolutely nothing. "I feel like you're more of an old-fashioned guy." you commented.

Bucky didn't say anything but a smile formed on his pink plump lips as you made him a glass of old-fashioned. Besides, you can never go wrong with the original cocktail.

Once you were finished, he held the glass near his face, his nose hovering above the drink.

"You know, I've had so many old-fashioned. Smells nothing like this." Then, he took a tiny sip, released a puff of breath and clicked his tongue. "But damn, if it isn't the best old-fashioned I ever had."

You suppressed a giggle. Instead, you smirked at him. "You're not the only one who can make a mean drink, Bucky Barnes."

He chuckled and went on to say that his was still better since it was his own drink and not a classic one. You weren't much of the condescending type so you agreed with him. You could never make your own drink; only the ones you've learned from Steve from the past year.

By the time Bucky devoured the whole drink, Peter had arrived. He was so loud that everyone in the bar turned their heads towards Peter who practically jumped on Bucky from a feet from where he was standing.

"Parker, keep it the fuck down." You scolded Peter like how a mother scolds a child. But with the curses.

Peter gave you an apologetic look as he sat down on the high stool. "Oh, wait, guess who came by the office today," before he could even let you guess, he jumped straight to the answer, "Wanda."

Your actions stopped the moment you heard Wanda's name but moved on eventually. You ignored Peter's eyes while you wiped the counter table, even though it was already squeaky clean. "Maximoff?"

"Yes, Wanda Maximoff! Our team got her as the head photographer for the clothing line account we landed on." He stated.

"Who's Wanda?" Bucky interrupted, curious about the whole thing.

"She's this friend of y/n's who used to tag along with her almost everyday in NYU." Peter replied. "She's also a photographer."

Peter went on about the whole clothing line account for a few minutes. It was mostly about how he and his team landed a "cool photographer" like Wanda. Sunday was the only time Wanda was free so they took an opportunity to talk to her.

Must be nice to be so busy all the damn time.

Peter proceeded to talk so highly of her and all the work she'd done in just a shy of a year in the industry. If you remembered correctly, the only time Peter and Wanda ever spoke to one another was when Wanda came to borrow something of yours and asked Peter if you were home. Now, he talked about her as if he'd known her for years.

Your eyes lazily wandered to the photographs you've shown Bucky this morning on the wall. Suddenly, it was eerily silent inside your head. No jukebox noise, no television noise, no rowdy noise; nothing.

It had been three years and you haven't accomplished anything that could fill your heart's content. No photos in magazines, not even on the damn streets. They were just here on the bar, camouflaged among the walls.

When your eyes found Peter and Bucky's, Peter had just finished his little story with Wanda starting to work with them for the next few weeks. "This is the biggest account my team has ever gotten. I am so excited!"

"I'm glad everything has been working out for you, Peter." Bucky placed a hand on Peter's shoulder, patting him.

"I just want to be like you, Buck."

Bucky glanced at you for a second. He let go of Peter's shoulder. He didn't respond to him. He just offered Peter a smile.

The two talked the whole night while you were pulled in every direction as more people came. You were making drinks left and right. The people by the counter had their eyes set on somewhere else. The television right above the counter. The billiards table. The jukebox. People dancing by the jukebox. Good-looking ladies being jeered at by single men, and vice-versa.

But only a pair of eyes was watching you move around: Bucky's.

You had caught him staring quite a few times the whole four hours you were working at the bar even though he was conversing with Peter. The whole time making and handing drinks to people, you kept thinking if Peter and Bucky were talking about you. Usually, you would eavesdrop in other people's conversations — of course, these were strangers. You didn't think you could do that to both Peter and Bucky. You shut your ears whenever you'd come near them but it wasn't as if they could be heard, anyway. You could barely hear the conversation with the television on, the jukebox playing and all the people buzzing in the bar — but you did catch some words like "Stark", "White Wolf", "home", and some country names.

All of a sudden, you stopped obsessing on the subject of their conversation. Your mind was then wrapped around with thoughts on Wanda and how, in just one year, she had already accomplished so much in her career whilst you were still here, juggling two jobs. You weren't the jealous type but the more you thought about it, the more those ugly feelings grew. Your photos on the damn walls were not much of a help. They just reminded you that you were a failure, that this was what you get for being a mediocre photographer and for settling for a menial job.

But you had to do what you needed to do in order to survive in this cruel world.

You did try and apply for some big advertising and business companies while working in the bar but luck was never on your side. There were always better ones, or ones who had connections. The latter one was just one of the many reasons why you hated big corporations.

"Who's the rich guy?" Whisking you from your train of thoughts was Nat. She was holding a tray full of canned beers and some fries, and caught up with you.

You walked towards the booth together.

"That's Bucky. Peter's stepbrother." You and Nat gave the food and beverage to the people in the booth.

"He'd been eyeing you for the past few hours." She hugged her tray on her chest as you walked back to the counter. "And you know what I think, y/n?"

"Nat — "

"He wants a piece of you."

You and Nat weren't as close as people would think you were. You only hung out in the workplace. And by hang out, you meant talking (even gossiping) while working.

"Please, he's so much older than me."

"That's what makes it hotter, dumbass."

"When was it ever hot?"

"Duh, those lingering stares he'd been giving you." She raised an eyebrow, stopping at the edge of the counter. "I'm telling you, he wants you."

"He's Peter's stepbrother, Nat. It's inappropriate!"

"It's not like he's his biological brother. And besides, I think it's..." She leaned in and whispered. "Thrilling."

You rolled your eyes. "And I think you're delusional."

"Think whatever you want to think." Nat chuckled. "But the facts are right there. He wants to get a taste of you, and you of him. Ciao, bitch."

And with that, she spun around, her red hair lost in the sea of strangers.

By the time your shift was ending, you removed the apron and hung it on the coat rack near Steve's office at the back. Your instinct was to go to Steve's office and let him know that your shift was over but you just remembered that he was in Rhode Island with his family. You lost the grip on the knob then went back to the counter and tapped Peter's shoulder, interrupting his conversation with Bucky.

"Already?" Peter asked in disbelief. "Wow, it's true what they say. Time flies by when people are catching up."

You squinted your eyes at him. "I literally have never heard someone say that, Parker."

"Really, never?"

"Never." You replied, opening the passthrough. "Now, let's go."

"Wait," Peter said, "I have to go to the toilet real quick."

"Our apartment is right above this bar. You can just go there."

"Sorry, y/n. This can't wait." He sped towards the toilet, practically flying. You sighed and took his seat, facing Bucky.

"Hey, doll." He said in a voice that could make any woman swoon and fall on the floor. Bucky's voice was raspier than you remembered, breath with a hint of whiskey mixed with beer. "Haven't spoken to you in a while."

"Sunday nights can be busy as well."

"So, I've seen." He hummed. "This is your everyday life, huh?"

"Except Mondays. We're closed on Mondays. And except when I have some photography gig." You replied then whispered the next part: "Which I haven't been getting lately."

"Isn't Sunday," he laughed, "supposed to be a rest day?"

"In our bible, it's Monday."

Before Bucky could even speak, Peter came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. "If you just accepted that job offer at our company, we would've been working together, y/n."

You playfully shrugged him off. "You were thinking about that while peeing? Weirdo. Plus, Wanda has a lot more experience than I have."

"But — "

"Come on, let's go. You're drunk." You lifted off his arm and turned towards Bucky. "You take him. He's a bit hard to handle when he's this drunk."

Bucky walked ahead, guiding Peter towards the door. Before you could even follow the two, Nat patted your shoulder. You spun around, meeting her suggestive eyes. Without even a second thought, she pulled your tight v-top even lower and spilled some drink on your exposed cleavage.

"Nat, what the damn hell!" You hissed.

"Trust me on this, babe." She scrunched up her nose. "Go get some rich dick." She twirled your body so easily then slapped your ass. You wanted to shout at Nat but you didn't want to cause a scene in the bar and the moment had already passed as she disappeared amongst the crowd once again.

You caught up towards Bucky and Peter, opening the door for them.

The walk towards the apartment unit was tedious and was accompanied by Peter's hilarious commentaries about every little thing he saw on the way. As Bucky's arm was getting sore, you helped lift Peter up as the elevator doors closed behind you.

You felt Bucky's eyes on you as you lifted Peter's right arm, slinging it across your shoulders. You came face to face with Bucky, his eyes somewhere underneath your neck. You cleared my throat to get his attention.

"Uh," he stammered, "you got some alcohol on your... uh..."

"Oh, yeah. Don't mind that. Some idiot spilled on me." Nat really was some idiot.

A genius idiot.

Peter immediately hugged his pillow once we placed him on his bed. You leaned in and kissed his forehead good night. "I hope you have a heavy hangover tomorrow, Parker."

You turned around only to be blocked by Bucky's towering figure. "Sorry." You mumbled, looking down on your feet.

"It's alright, doll." He replied, making some space for you to walk on.

You headed towards the kitchen to grab a glass of water and Bucky followed suit, tossing his suit jacket on the couch as if he was living in your place.

"You should go get changed." He spoke.

You rolled your eyes, finishing up your water.

"Okay, daddy." Of course, you meant it as a joke as it sounded so much funnier in your head — not so much said out loud.

Bucky's eyes lit up with curiosity, walking towards you. "What did you say?"

"Nothing." You replied quickly. "I absolutely said nothing."

He just continued to stare as he strode towards you. You just stayed frozen in your place, unable to process what was about to happen. You backed away from Bucky as he neared you, your back hitting the fridge. He stopped right in front of you. He looked so much different when you first saw him. His eyes had become darker and stared with so much intensity and intention.

"You know, you're something else." He licked his lower lip.

"I don't know what you mean, Bucky."

He traced your jawline with his finger and tilted your chin up. "I can't quite put my finger on you, doll, but you're really something else."

You weren't ready for something to happen so you walked as quickly as you could towards your bedroom, locked the door behind me and leaned against it. Your breathing was quite uneven and your heart thudded like fast bullets on the ground.

You looked down on your sticky chest that reeked of vodka. You pursed your lips together. "Natasha Romanoff, you son of a bitch."

26 notes · View notes

mydogisveryadorbs · 4 years

Text

blue ain't your color | jj maybank

masterlist

summary: song fic based on blue ain’t your color by keith urban.

warnings: mentions of mentally and physically abusive relationships, underage drinking, mentions of drugs, angst, fluff, v soft jj

PSA: this is not in any way meant to idealize or romanticize abusive relationships. if you or someone you know is in an abusive relationship please get help. below are some resources and learning tools.

National Domestic Violence Hotline: 1 (800) 799 – 7233

Love is Respect – National Teen Dating Abuse Hotline: 1 (866) 331 – 9474

more hot lines and info: https://victimconnect.org/resources/national-hotlines/

learn more: https://www.thehotline.org/psa/

lyrics in bold

3.8k+ words

✰⋆✰⋆✰⋆✰

I can see you over there

Starring at your drink

Watchin' that ice sink

All alone tonight

You look down at your drink, moving the straw in a circular motion causing the ice to swirl around creating a small tornado.

Glancing at the time on your phone, you realize you've been waiting here for almost two hours.

Your boyfriend was supposed to meet you at Topper’s party at 9. In the first thirty minutes, you weren't surprised. Liam, your kook boyfriend of 10 months, was late for almost everything, so this didn't come as a shock to you.

When the one hour mark hit you were honestly quite worried. What if he was in an accident? What if he got jumped? Maybe your thoughts were most likely irrational, but you couldn't help but worry about your boyfriend.

One hour later, you had gotten past the worrying stage. Now you were simply angry, no, furious at him. Had he stood you up? Did he forget about you? These thoughts were definitely more rational. It wouldn't be the first time Liam stood you up, but you would make sure it was the last.

At the beginning of your relationship, everything had been sunshine and butterflies. About two months in, however, he asked you to stop seeing your friends.

You see you were a born and raised pogue. Your dad was a close friend of Big John so you had practically grown up with John B, JJ, and Pope, in more recent years becoming close friends with Kiara.

At first, it was little things. Liam would get upset if you left to hang out with the pogues instead of him. Then one day, he asked you to stop seeing them all together. You, of course, retaliated, telling him that you would never leave your friends. But Liam had a way with words, and not a good way. He told you for months that your friends would never love you and that you were lucky that he had even taken pity on you. Slowly, you started to believe him. You stopped seeing the pogues, pushing everyone who truly loved you out of your life.

Liam became more and more distant as the months went on. He would leave you almost every night to drink and party, not even bothering to let you know where he was headed. The two of you had been fighting nonstop for several weeks. It had gotten physical only a few times and the next morning he would apologize profusely, so you stayed.

Seeing him walk in with two girls wrapped around his waist, nearly two and a half hours late, was the last straw for you.

Grabbing your purse, you walked up to Liam, who's eyes widened with the realization the moment he saw you.

“Fuck, (Y/N),” he says, slightly slurring his words as his arms still holding the two skinny blondes at his sides, “It's not what it looks like.” You can see his red-rimmed eyes and dilated pupils, telling you that he was coked out.

You roll your eyes, knowing that this was it for you. “Really, Liam,” you snap back, “‘Cause it looks like we are done here.”

Liam’s eyes widen in shock, never having seen you lash out like this before. He shakes it off and his expression quickly contorts into one of disgust. “Okay,” he says with a shrug, “Good luck finding someone else to take pity on a whore like you, dirty pogue.” He walks away with the two girls, leaving you in shock.

It takes a moment for you to realize that you had just ended this almost one-year relationship.

The first emotion you feel is one of freedom and relief. No more would you have to be held down by this weight of not being able to do and say what you want.

That feeling slowly dissipates as the feeling of dread starts to overcome it. You had pushed away all of your friends for this boy who had let you go like you were nothing to him. Maybe you were nothing.

You walk back to the bar area, grabbing another drink, feeling the need to drown away your sorrows.

And chances are

You're sittin' here in this bar

'Cause he ain't gonna treat you right

JJ Maybank hated kook parties with a passion.

Thankfully he hadn't had the opportunity to attend too many of them in his lifetime. But now that John B was macking on Sarah Cameron, it wasn't uncommon for the blonde boy to get dragged along to one of these events.

John B had left JJ to fend for himself as soon as they had arrived at the party, slipping off somewhere to find Sarah. JJ looked around the extravagant home that belonged to one of his enemies, Topper Thornton. His ring clad fingers fiddled with an expensive-looking vase, trying to find the perfect moment to snag it and slip away.

JJ’s eyes filtered through the crowd when they landed on something, or rather someone, that he had least expected to see.

His hand slipped from the vase, letting his gaze drink you in. You definitely looked different. Your once long hair was now cut just below your shoulders and your typical style of denim shorts and a cropped shirt was exchanged for a lavish-looking dress and sparkly stilettos.

JJ admits that he probably wouldn't have recognized you if he hadn't spent so many years unable to take his eyes off of you whenever the pogues were together.

The boy had loved his life long best friend since the day she clocked a boy in the face for making fun of JJ’s worn-out clothes. They were seven. In addition to being the day JJ had met (Y/N) and John B, it was also the day he fell in love with the (Y/E/C) eyed girl.

When you started dating your kook boyfriend at the beginning of your junior year, JJ was initially devastated. He soon brought himself to realize, however, that a lowlife like him would never be able to deserve someone as beautiful and kind-hearted as you. His thoughts were confirmed when you abruptly stopped hanging around the pogues and him. You were too good for him. The blonde boy had no idea of the pain that Liam had caused you in the past ten months.

Now looking at you, JJ could see that you were upset. He had gotten really good at analyzing your body language over the many years of being your best friend.

All thoughts of stealing the vase flew out of his mind as his feet started in your direction.

Well, it's probably not my place

But I'm gonna say it anyway

'Cause you look like

You haven't felt the fire

Had a little fun

Hadn't had a smile in a little while

You felt a figure move to sit in the bar stool chair next to you, but you choose to ignore whoever it is, not particularly feeling up to socializing with a contemptuous kook after what you just went through.

The figure didn't move after a few minutes so you turn to look at them with a glare in your eyes, ready to snap at them and ask them to leave you alone. Your gaze immediately softens as you realize the person next to you is in fact the last person you would ever expect to see at a party like this, JJ Maybank.

Tears begin to prick at your eyes as you continue to stare at the side profile of the blonde boy who hasn't yet turned to face you.

Everything you had done so well to hide over the last ten years of knowing and loving him comes rushing back. Your love for the boy next to you consumes every fiber of your being.

A lone tear falls down your cheek as you begin to curse yourself and Liam. How did I let him control me into giving this up? This feeling?

Blue looks good on the sky

Looks good on that neon buzzin' on the wall

But darling, it don't match your eyes

JJ finally turns his head to look at you and feels his entire resolve crumble. You were crying. The sight nearly breaks his heart in two.

His eyes lock with yours and he can see the pain and heartache swirling within them.

“What did he do to you,” JJ mutters, letting his eyes roam the crowd for the boy he despises most in the world. Almost a year of suppressed anger starts to bubble up to the surface.

“JJ,” you whimper.

The sadness and hopelessness in your voice makes every ounce of anger in him evaporate as he turns his head to look at you again. The look in your eyes tells him that the kook boy had hurt you worse than he ever knew.

JJ wants nothing more than to pull you into his arms and never let anything else in the world harm you. His hands itch to wipe the tears off your face and pull your head to his chest.

However, JJ also wants you to be as comfortable as possible and he's not sure if you're ready for the amount of love he has to give you just yet.

You surprise the blonde boy by reaching out to your arms out to him. The blonde wastes no time in standing up and pulling your body flush to his chest.

Everyone else in the world disappears as the two of you clutch each other with all you have. Both of you realize how much you had missed the comfort of each other's embrace.

You're not sure how long you stand there like that, face nuzzled into JJ’s shoulder as the boy strokes your hair comfortingly.

“I'm sorry,” you mumble into his shirt, not willing to pull away from the warmth he radiates.

JJ’s eyebrows draw together in confusion as he pulls away enough to look down at you. “What do you mean,” he asks with a softness in his voice that is reserved for you only, gently lifting your chin so that you are looking into his beautiful cerulean eyes.

You sniffle. “I'm sorry for leaving you. I'm sorry for breaking down in front of you. I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess. But most of all, I'm sorry for ever believing that I could live without you. I-I mean if it weren't for you I don't know what I would do. I understand if you don't want to talk to-” your ramble is suddenly cut off by JJ pressing his lips to yours.

The boy knows that this is probably not the best time to confess his feelings towards you, but he can't watch you talk down about yourself like that anymore. Do you not know how much he adores you?

The kiss is soft and passionate. JJ can taste your salty tears on his slightly chapped lips as they work against yours. Both of you poor every ounce of emotion you have into the kiss.

JJ reluctantly pulls away when the two of you run out of air, placing his forehead delicately on yours as your arms wrap around his neck.

I'm tellin' you

You don't need that guy

It's so black and white

He's stealin' your thunder

Baby, blue ain't your color

Both of you pant as you look into each other's eyes. “I've wanted to do that for so long,” JJ says, as the smile you cherish so much graces his features.

“Really?” you ask and JJ can hear the vulnerability in your voice. What did that shithead do to you to make you so insecure?

“You have no idea, baby,” he says, tenderly kissing away the tear that has slipped out of your eye and onto your cheek.

Not having the words to express how you feel about the boy in front of you, you pull his head back down, kissing him so sweetly that it makes his knees buckle.

“JJ,” you whisper as you pull away, but you never get to finish your statement because you are suddenly ripped out of his embrace.

“You fucking whore,” Liam seethes at you taking a stride towards you and you instinctively take a step back. “You break up with me and two minutes later you've moved onto another guy. Slut.” His words cut you deep and you know by the tone of his voice that a punch to the gut or a slap to the face is coming. Liam raises his hand and you brace yourself for impact, but it never comes.

The sound of yelling fills your senses and you open your eyes to see JJ punching Liam in the face repeatedly. You are frozen as you watch the scene in front of you.

“JJ,” you hear John B yell, turning to look at him, “You're gonna kill him.”

Your eyes widen in realization at his words and you take a step forward.

“JJ,” you call, but your voice is drowned out by the sound of everyone yelling around you. You clear your throat and try again, louder. “JJ.”

This time JJ stops mid punch, turning to look at you. Fear fills your body when you see that his wide, normally baby blue eyes are nearly black.

His gaze softens as he takes in your anxious look.

JJ steps away from the beat-up boy and you see a few of his friends pull Liam’s limp body away. You lock your eyes back to JJ’s and he takes a careful step towards you causing you to involuntarily flinch back slightly.

I'm not tryna

Be another just

Pick you up

Kinda guy

Tryna drink you up

Tryna take you home

He wants to cry out at the sight. Don't you know that he would rather die than ever hurt you?

You do know this, and you're not afraid of the boy in the slightest, but the last five minutes have put you on edge.

Seeing the broken look in the blonde’s eyes, you take quick steps toward his body, wrapping him in your embrace. He melts into your arms, allowing his face to nuzzle into the crook of your neck.

The crowd that had formed around the fight disperses, realizing the show is over.

“(Y/N).” The sound of your name being called pulls your attention away from the sweet boy in your arms.

You pull away from JJ slightly, still keeping an arm around his bicep.

Looking over, you see John B standing to the side with Sarah Cameron. You had heard about the two of them getting together and you suddenly realize why JJ happened to be at this party.

The sadness in John B’s eyes as he looks at you breaks your heart. The two of you have been like sister and brother your whole lives and, besides JJ, he was the hardest for you to stop talking to.

You feel JJ’s grip on you loosen, urging you to go to John. The two of you walk towards each other and John B pulls you into his arms.

“I missed you, (Y/N/N),” he says unto your hair, “So much.”

You smile, tears softly rolling down your cheeks. “I missed you too, JB,” you say, pulling away to look at JJ who looks back with a sad smile on his face.

But I just don't understand

How another man

Can take your sun

And turn it ice cold

The four of you decided it was best to leave. John B dropped Sarah off at her house and drove the three of you back to the Chateau. Your stomach drops at the sight of the small shack.

JJ notices your facial expression, placing his hand softly on top of yours. “You okay?” he asks gently as John B parks the van.

You nod with a small smile and JJ helps you out of the van, holding your hand as he leads you to the porch. You stop walking, causing the two boys to turn around and look at you.

“I'm sorry,” you say, tears pooling in your eyes again. JJ gives you a knowing look. “(Y/N),” he says, almost sternly.

“No,” you say, wiping your eyes, “Let me talk.” JJ nods and John B looks at you expectantly. “I left you. Both of you. I- Liam, he just made me feel so useless and I didn't want to be a bother to you guys anymore.”

JJ lets out a sound, almost like a growl, and pulls you into a hug. “You are not useless, (Y/N),” he says seriously, “You are so important, to both of us, and we missed you so much.”

You nod into his chest as John B comes to wrap his arms around both of you.

The three of you group hug and you sigh contently, happy to be back with your boys.

Well, I've had enough to drink

And it's makin'

Me think that I just might

Tell you if I were a painter I wouldn't change ya

I'd just paint you bright

John B helps JJ set up the pull out while you change into a pair of John B’s sweats and JJ’s t-shirt. John B says goodnight and goes to “hit the hay” as he puts it, leaving you and JJ alone again.

“I'll sleep on the other couch and you can take the bed,” he says sweetly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head.

The two of you settle into your “beds”, but you can't seem to fall asleep with so many thoughts running through your mind.

Everything that has happened since you left the pogues seems like one big sad blur. Your mind wanders to JJ. What does this mean for you two?

“(Y/N),” the voice you love so much calls. You hum in response. “You ‘wake?” he asks. You sit up in the pullout shaking your head.

“Can't sleep,” you say, rubbing your eyes.

JJ sits up as well. “M’sorry, baby,” the nickname makes your heart flutter.

You open your arms for the boy who looks at you warily. “Are you sure, (Y/N),” he asks. You nod quickly and he stands up, falling into the pullout and wrapping you into his arms. He tucks your head under his chin, pulling you closer.

“JJ,” you ask.

It's his turn to hum in response. “This may be weird for you, but I feel like I just have to say it,” you tell him. JJ pulls back just enough to look into your eyes. He's worried about what you are going to say but tries to hide it for your sake. “I love you, J.”

JJ smiles, leaning down to nuzzle his nose with yours in an Eskimo kiss. “I love you too,” he says sincerely, but you're afraid he doesn't understand what you mean.

“No, J,” you say, looking away from his eyes, “I love you. Like, I'm in love with you.”

The blonde boy only smiles bigger. He leans down pressing a passionate kiss to your lips, pulling away when you run out of air. JJ trails sweet kisses down your jaw and neck before placing one last kiss on your lips.

“I'm in love with you too (Y/N),” he says kissing your forehead. JJ wonders how he went so long without being able to kiss you and hold you. Even after only confessing a few hours ago, it feels so natural to have you in his arms. The thought of not having you makes his heart ache.

“I have to ask you something, but you can say no and it won't change anything and I understand that this is hard because of everything that just happened,” JJ rambles. You kiss his jaw softly, urging him to continue. “Will you be mine. Ya know. Like my girlfriend, or whatever.”

You smile wide. “Of course I'll be yours, J.”

JJ copies your smile leaning down to press another kiss to your lips.

He pulls away, snuggling into you, and the both of you bask in the feeling of being in each other's arms. Your hand reaches up to play with JJ’s hair as your eyes start to droop.

“Love ya, pretty girl.”

“Love you too, J.”

'Cause blue looks good on the sky

Looks good on that neon buzzin' on the wall

But darling, it don't match your eyes

You are sitting down on a beach towel, watching the sun slowly fall into the ocean, lighting the sky with a beautiful rainbow of colors. Your feet are outstretched in front of you and your hands prop you up behind your back. The Outer Banks heat is making your skin warm, but you don't mind, letting the steadily depleting sun hit your skin.

You watch as JJ catches another wave, surfing it perfectly. You giggle as he raises his hand in a fist, clapping for him.

It's been two weeks since you finally ended things with Liam. You were able to mend things with the rest of the pogues and Kiara and Pope welcomed you back with open arms. Things with JJ have been going amazing. The two of you agreed to take things slowly seeing as you were just getting out of a toxic relationship. It was different to finally be in a place with JJ where you weren't afraid to show him and tell him how you feel, but you loved it.

JJ runs towards you, gripping his board in one hand as the other pushes back his blonde locks.

When he gets to your towel, JJ throws down his board and plops down next to you, pulling you into a sweet hug.

You giggle. “You're all wet, J,” you say, not making any move to get out of his warm embrace. The boy peppers your face with soft kisses causing you to giggle even more.

A few minutes later you are seated in between JJ’s legs and he has his strong arms wrapped around your waist, his head nuzzled in the crook of your neck.

“I love you, J,” you say, still watching the sunset.

“I love you too, pretty girl,” JJ says kissing your neck. He begins humming the tune to a song you recognize.

“Blue ain't your color, umm mm,” he sings, “No, no baby, come here baby, let me light up your world.”

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420 notes · View notes

logan-please-smile-speaks · 3 years

Note

[Long, Tw food (in depth descriptions), brief references to unnamed heavenly beings of no specified religion, brief reference to hell. Not really any angst. Just good Dadza.]

[Hurt/comfort my beloved]

Me: i can't write

Also me: writes an entire fic by accident while telling my friend about an idea I had

(I'm gonna need this ask back at some point so don't keep it too long, okay? But make sure to take care of yourself (unlike Techno sksksks))

(How many words is this) (Cenn I've been writing this for like 3-4 hours. I've been hyperfixating on this)

-@2ble

I had this really cute idea where Techno gets sick after doomsday and Dadza takes care of him (for an animatic, or? How should i draw techno?)

Phil's Dadza side kicks in. He gently pushes Techno, who is in full garb back into bed. "Techno, you're sick. You can't go."

"But I haven't streamed in 2 weeks!"

"Rest."

Techno turns on his side in bed. Dadza gently pulls the blankets up and tucks them around Techno. Techno begins to cough, and the coughs rack his body. Dadza's expression is soft and concerned. He rubs his hand on Techno's back until he stops coughing. Techno closes his eyes. He's exhausted.

Dadza takes Techno's crown and places it on the bedside table.

He observes his ill friend. Techno is nothing like what he was up until Doomsday. He seemed--weak. Vulnerable. Sick.

"Have you had anything to eat, Techno?"

Techno doesn't open his eyes. He shakes his head. "I ran out of food a few days ago. I meant to get more but..." Techno doesn't want to admit that he couldn't get downstairs. He doesn't want to admit to weakness, to vulnerability. But everytime he thought of searching through chests, of trading with the villagers, they just seemed so far away.

Phil noticed a tear leaking out from Techno's eyelid. If he brushed it away, Techno would feel worse about his state because it would mean he was in fact vulnerable.

"I'll make you some stew."

Phil goes downstairs and tends to the fireplace. The fire seemed to have gone out sometime between now and the last time Phil checked on Techno.

How long has the house been this cold?

Phil builds up the fire and puts a cauldron over it. He makes mushroom stew because he doesn't know if techno can stomach rabbit stew.

When it's ready, he ladels it into a bowl and climbs the ladder.

Hanging off the ladder by one hand, he calls out. "Techno, stew's ready."

Techno's eyes flutter open. He sees his friend holding out a bowl of food and his eyes widen.

Phil notices that Techno is sweating and the blanket strewn to the side, only covering his feet.

"Are you too hot mate?" he asks.

Techno is broiling but he can't summon the strength to take off his outer clothes. His body refuses.

He's more focused on food. He's starving, and his body uses up what little resources it has left to sweat.

Phil walks over and puts the stew on the table. The heavenly aroma fills the room.

"Let's get this coat off of you." Phil reaches around Techno and unclasps the chain on his neck. He gently pulls the coat off of Techno's arm but he's still laying on it.

"Techno," Phil says.

"Whaaat," Techno drawls.

"You got to let me get this coat off ya mate."

Techno lets out a deep groan, then turns over on his stomach so his other arm is towards Phil.

Phil reaches under techno and grasps the coat. He pulls it out from under Techno and off his arm. The sleeve turns inside out. Phil fixes the sleeve and hangs up the coat.

Techno's shirt is drenched in sweat. He rolls over and starts fidddling with the button closest to his throat, looking up at Phil.

"Here, I'll get that for you." Phil undoes the button. He can't imagine how tired techno must've been after Doomsday, that he just collapsed in bed fully clothed, not even bothering to loosen them.

At least he took off his armor. Sh-t's heavy, he thinks. Phil ignores the fact that after the adrenaline and excitement wore off, the sore and tired Technoblade probably couldn't move with it on.

Phil pulls the blanket off the bed entirely, folds it, and places it on the table next to the stew. He pulls off Techno's shoes and socks and puts them near his coat.

They were also drenched with sweat, not to mention the smell--but it doesn't bother Phil all that much. He's smelled worse. He's frowns at the imprints on Techno's legs from the socks.

Phil loosens the rest of Techno's clothes. Techno seemed to were his tightest, least comfortable, most regal outfit to Doomsday.

Lucky for them both most of that was just accesories and pins, and Phil could easily remove those.

While Phil was doing this, Techno had been lying on his back, eyes closed. Though Techno tended to be stone-faced, Phil noticed the relief on Techno's face.

"How you feelin', Techno?"

"Philzaaa,"

"Yeah?"

Techno opens his eyes halfway, just enough to see Philza and the bottom of the bed.

"Do you have water?"

Phil procures a water bucket from his bag. "Thirsty mate?"

Techno looks at the water bucket and a small smile creeps over his face.

Phil smiles at his friend. He moves to the head of the bed and looped his arm and tattered wing around Techno and sits him up.

He holds the bucket up to Techno's mouth and tips it to his lips. Techno sips gratefully as the cool liquid pours over his hot, dry mouth and down his throat, cooling him from the inside.

"You've lost quite a bit of fluid, mate."

Techno lets some of the cold water slip out the sides of his mouth and drip down his face. His skin is boiling. The water dropelts running down his skin feel like heavenly beings allowing drops of mercy to fall upon him in the pit of hell.

Techno pulls back briefly to swallow and catch his breath and Phil rights the bucket. Techno leans in again for more water.

After drinking his fill, Techno leans back and wipes his mouth with his arm.

"All done, Techno?"

Techno swings his arms up knocks the bucket out of Phil's hand, dumping it on his head. The gush of water cools Techno, drenches the bed, and spills all over the room. Phil can't help but laugh. He picks up the bucket and scoops up the water source. He puts the bucket back in his bag.

"Had enough of the water?"

"Philza--I gotta be honest with you, Philza I haven't felt this good in weeks."

Phil laughs again even louder. The two friends are now in a good mood.

"Well now your stew is probably cold too." Phil tastes it. "Actually it's a bit warm still. Not too hot, either."

Techno scoots towards the wall and leans on it. He reaches for the bowl.

"Oh, no you don't."

"Phil, I'm a grown man-pig. I can hold a bowl."

"Maybe on a good day, Techno, but three minutes ago you couldn't sit up by yourself. No offense mate, but I don't think your arms have enough stamina right now. Now come on and eat."

Phil lifts the bowl to Techno's lips and lets him sip at his own pace. He pulls it back.

"How does it taste?"

"Pretty good but could maybe use a little salt."

"Eh, you probably need electrolytes as well after sweating through your clothes and drinking all that water."

Phil put the bowl on the downstairs counter.

Phil found salt in the downstairs chest and stirred it into the cauldron.

He heard the bowl fall to the floor behind him. It fell facedown and spilt on the floor.

Phil swore quietly.

He got a new bowl and more stew from the cauldron.

"How is it?" Techno inquired.

"Try for yourself," Phil said. He smiled as he held the bowl to Techno.

Techno looked at the bowl, then up at Phil. He took a sip.

Techno pulled back and looked at the bowl.

Phil thought he may have tainted the stew somehow. "Is it bad?" he started to say.

But he didn't quite get out anything after "Is" because Techno cut him off.

"It's delicious." Techno looked up at his friend. "Philza Minecraft, you should be a chef. This is the most wonderful thing I've ever tasted."

Phil chuckled. "All I did was add salt, what ya mean?"

"Phil, you have to sell this stew to the rest of the SMP. We could get rich!"

"Techno, I think the sickness may have gotten to your head a bit."

"Phil, I've never been more serious about anything in my entire life. We could be the the most powerful people on the server!"

"We already are. We just blew up a country. Down to bedrock."

"But we could get even more rich and powerful!"

"Well I'll be happy to listen after you eat. And rest. And bathe."

"I don't need to bathe."

"You're not getting out of it. You reek, mate."

"You can't judge me by the smell!"

"I'm not worried about the smell so much as what the smell tells me about your body. I don't know when the last time you washed was but it was definitely before Doomsday and I can't have you laying in your own sweat and filth for much longer. It's sh-t for your health, Techno."

"Philza--"

"Please just eat, Techno."

Techno leaned his head forward slightly and Phil pressed the bowl to Techno's lips.

Techno closed his eyes and savored the flavors. They were so pleasant, so soothing, so comforting. They reminded him of a time when he was safe and there was no betrayal. No war. No need for violence and bloodshed and destruction.

Phil, being a good Dadza friend, made sure that Techno ate an entire bowl. He brought Techno another bowl upon his request, of which he ate half, then left the other half bowl on the table in case Techno got hungry later.

After changing Techno's bed to clean, dry sheets and tucking his friend back into bed, he went downstairs to clean up the spill. He told Techno he would be back at sunrise to check on him. Though he might come earlier just in case. Sunrise was just the latest. Phil had decided that since Techno had gotten through the brunt of his hibernation and was now waking up sick, he should check on him at least twice a day.

Phil scrubbed the dried stew off the floor. He wondered what could've made Techno love it so much. Mere salt couldn't have made it so delicious, could it?

Phil finished cleaning the floor and the bowl and put everything away. As he was about to leave, he stopped. Eyes locked on the cauldron. There was something about it.

I can't leave that there, he reasoned. It will go to waste. If Techno like it, I can't let it waste or burn. I should freeze it outside.

Phil took out a bowl and knelt in front of the fire place. He scoop up big, full ladels into his bowl. Could it be that the soup was really that much better with something as basic as salt?

Phil dipped his finger in the bowl and sucked the stew off of it. He was instantly transported to his childhood. His mind played out feelings of safety, of healing, of comfort, of rest.

He heard his family laughing, remembered learning how to fly, the first time he soared high, feeling the wind beneath his wings. He remembered when Wilbur was born, holding the tiny baby in his arms, filled with love. "I'll always protect you. I'll always be there for you." When he met Techno, when he built the bee farm, and so on.

Phil was moved to tears. He felt loved. He felt like someone loved him no matter his flaws, his mistakes. Phil cried.

It was not out of pain but rather emotion. He wiped away his tears and drank the rest of the stew in his bowl, but it only caused more tears to stream down his face.

Techno was right.

Outside, watching through the window was the one who made the soup what it was. It wasn't Phil's salt.

He stood on his hind legs, paws pressed against the wall of the house.

He had been listening to the two friends talk, had been watching protectively as the wind ruffled his thick white fur.

He was Technoblade's guardian.

Soon he would be called Steve.

2ble this is literally amazing hello????

#ask #anon #under the 2ble #food mention #food tw #tw sickness #crying mention #technoblade #philza #philza minecraft #long post #steve the polar bear #fave tag

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neptunetheplanet7 · 3 years

Text

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐞 - 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬

DM ME IF YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE ON THE TAG LIST!!

;mikasa ackerman x fem!lesbian!reader

;modern au, band au

word count: 1.9k

warnings: swearing, cheating

italics means flashback/memory recall

listen to the music masterlist

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quick message! unlike on my wattpad, i’m not doing a character introduction chapter on here. so heads up for he/they armin and she/they sasha!! those are just my personal headcanons i included into the story :) also, i wrote this a LONG time ago. i posted this on my wattpad on 2/24/21. i apologize in advance for any errors. i do plan to re-edit a lot of things regarding this fic in the future.

"She's coming back tomorrow," Jean said casually while pouring himself a cup of coffee in the kitchen. You choked on your breakfast. Armin took a worried glance at your coughing form from across the table.

"Sorry." You hacked.

"Mikasa is?" Eren peeked his head through the bathroom doorway as he looked away from the mirror.

"Yeah, I'm going to pick her up from the airport tomorrow night." Jean put down the pot of coffee and took a sip from his hot mug.

"Why so sudden?" Armin put down his book on the table in front of his plate.

"She spoke to me about it briefly. said there was something she needed to do when she got here. I'm just as shocked as you are. I didn't think she'd be back any time soon" Jean brushed the crumbs off his hands and put his plate in the sink.

"How can you all be so calm about this? Did you hear him? Mikasa is coming home tomorrow. She left nearly two years ago! She's finally coming back and none of you are freaking out? She didn't even say why exactly she was coming back." You stood up and threw your hands in the air. Suddenly you lost your appetite.

"No need to get all bent out of shape, Y/n. You act like we haven't seen her in ten years." Eren said with a hair tie in his mouth as he grew impatient with his long and tangled mess of hair.

You rolled your eyes. "Obviously, but she left for a reason. Even when she gets here, will she still want to play with us? Her absence from the band has taken a toll on everyone, and our audience was less than pleased when she announced her vacation, or rather when I announced her vacation." You start pacing in the living room.

Armin's eyes followed you as you moved. "I hope she does, but it's unlikely. I recall her saying she never wanted to see Jean again. I doubt she'll want to play with him here." He theorized.

"Well, she did call me to say she was coming back so I don't think she's still very upset with me." Jean finished off his coffee and tucked his hair behind his ears. "It happened two years ago, after all."

"I hope she's doing better. It's not like we've heard much from her since she left. I have to clean this house! Oh god, it's a mess! You boys are pigs." You said frantically.

Eren snickered. "Well, it looks like you haven't gotten over your little crush."

"Shut it, Jaeger. I'm doing fine and, frankly, that's none of your business." Still pacing, you held your stomach as the nervous feeling grew.

"Yeah, it sure looks like you're fine." His lips pulled into a grin as he rolled his eyes.

"I think I'm going to faint."

"Do you need to lie down? You look a bit pale." Armin stood up and came to my side.

"I think I'll take a nap."

"You just woke up, smarty. Going back to bed already?" Jean chuckled. "I'm going to Marco's place. See you losers later."

A chorus of 'bye, Jeans' sounded throughout the room when he left through the garage door.

"Y/n, were you serious about cleaning the house? Because I have to go and I really don't want to clean so-"

"Yeah, Eren. You can leave, I don't care."

"You're the best! Thank you!" Eren chirped and practically skipped through the door.

"I have nowhere to be. So I guess I'll stick with you here." Armin smiled. "Do you need help with anything?"

"I'll be fine, thanks. Just nervous is all." You wrung your hands and blinked several times.

"Okay, I'll be in the office if you need anything." Armin patted your shoulder and left you alone in the large living room.

You quickly got to cleaning the house in a nervous frenzy, deep in thought. Mikasa had left one night almost two years ago after a heated situation between her and Jean that ultimately resulted in their breakup and Mikasa leaving the band with only a painful note left behind.

Apparently, there was more to the breakup than you knew, but Jean kept what we didn't hear to himself for Mikasa's sake. Essentially, Mikasa caught Jean and Marco together at a party Eren threw for his nineteenth birthday. You were with her when she saw them.

You and Mikasa were having a silly conversation in the long hallway in front of the dining room. Mikasa stopped looking at you and started focusing on something behind you. her small smile dropped. "and that's why I never- hey Mikasa? You okay? What are you looking at?" You stopped telling your story and became more concerned for your friend.

Confused, you turned around. You gasped loudly. "Oh Mikasa, I'm so sorry." You reached a hand out to her but she left the hall quickly. "Don't worry about it, Y/n. It's not a big deal." You watched her speedwalk up the stairs with her hand covering her mouth.

You confronted Jean calmly, not wanting to disturb the party, despite being furious. "Hey, Jean. the world can see you, dickbag. And so did your girlfriend. Have fun explaining this to her. She went upstairs. Find her yourself. If you even care enough to do so." You spat and darted away from them.

"Wait, Y/n!" Jean pushed past people as you swiftly made your way through the crowd in an attempt to find Eren. Normally, you'd look for Armin, but he was out of town for the night. You got to the kitchen and desperately glanced around. Jean took hold of your arm before you could get any farther. He turned you to face him and took note of your angry expression. "I'm sorry. let me explain."

You shoved him away from you. "Don't apologize to me. Don't explain anything to me. Tell it to your girlfriend. I'm finding Eren and ending this shitty party early. Frankly, Jean, I don't care what excuse you have." You kicked off your heels in a random spot and continued the search for your friend. Jean tried to follow you at first but gave up.

You pushed through crowds looking everywhere for Eren. "Where is he? Eren I need you," You muttered. You caught a glimpse of dark hair being pulled out of an updo. You took a sharp turn and bumped into someone. You fell backward on the floor and rubbed your side that you fell on. "Ouch."

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry I wasn't looking where I was going!" A girl with multiple party foods in her arms shouted apologetically. She hastily set down her collection and helped you up. I took a quick look around the room, Eren wasn't there. The brunette in front of me tilted her head. "Are you looking for someone? I can help you find them to make up for bumping into you. Hey, you're really pretty. Are you the guitarist from that band? Wait, so you live here? Oh no, I bumped into someone famous! Connie and Niccolo are gonna freak out when I tell them! I'm Sasha by the way. Your name is Y/n right?"

Taken aback by her rambling, and the fact that she recognized you, you stuttered for a bit before gaining your composure. "Yeah, I'm looking for a friend, actually. And that's me. I live here."

Sasha grinned. "Cool! Who are you looking for? I might know them." She linked her arm through yours and pulled you to the outside deck.

"I'm looking for Eren. Uh- Jaeger. My friend Eren Jaeger. I need to find him." Your voice sounded shaky.

"Me and him were partners in Professor Hange's science class back in high school! He invited me since we go way back." She opened the door and stepped outside. "Hey Y/n, you sound upset. Did something happen?" She unhooked your arm from hers and put her hands on your shoulders with a concerned stare. You were on the brink of tears and didn't want to cry in front of a stranger, but when you heard the caution in her tone you couldn't help but let some tears escape.

"Hey! Hey, hey Y/n, don't cry now. We'll find Eren." She pulled you in for a hug and you slowly accepted it. You weren't even the one who got cheated on yet you were the one crying. You were worried about the band. You were worried about the fight Eren and Jean were sure to get in. You were worried about what Armin would think. But most importantly, you were worried about Mikasa.

The thought of her locking herself in a room upstairs alone after what happened was enough to make you feel sick. You had to find Eren and end the party. You had to keep him calm once he found out. A part of you had always hoped they would break up, and you always felt extremely guilty about it, but you never hoped it would end in a way that hurt them both.

You quietly sobbed into sasha's clothed shoulder, definitely staining her frilly dress. "I'm sorry I'm such a mess right now." You stepped away and wiped your eyes several times.

"No, don't apologize. You don't have to tell me what happened, either. Let's go find Eren, yeah?" She gently took my face in her hands and wiped away at my tears. She hooked her arm through mine again as we continued our search for Eren.

We finally found him after looking for a good fifteen minutes. He was sitting alone on the front porch with a beer in hand, his hair a ragged mess. He took a swig of it and scowled at the taste. Sasha nodded to you and left you alone with him. You opened the glass door and stood awkwardly behind him.

"Hey, Eren."

"The party's inside." He said bitterly.

"I know." You sat down next him and smoothed out your dress in the process. "What are you doing out here at your own party? I've been looking for you everywhere."

He sighed. "I heard what happened. with Jean and Mikasa. He went looking for her so I assume he's found her, that was thirty minutes ago, give or take. I needed a break and came out here."

You let your head slump on his shoulder. He let out another long sigh. "I saw it happen. She ran upstairs so I came looking for you. I figured once I told you, you could end the party. That sounds ridiculous now, considering how many people came." You let out a dry laugh and felt him laugh along with you. His head rested on top of yours and he placed a gentle kiss on it.

"What are we gonna do now, Y/n? There’s no chance this'll go over well. The band could be ruined.” He paused and sighed. “I bet Armin would know what to do right about now."

"I bet he would." You took Eren's hand in yours. "I don't even want to think about what could happen."

"Neither do I. Do you want to stay out here a little while longer? We can go back in later." Eren offered.

"Yeah. That sounds nice."

posted: 8/23/21

no reposts, edits, or modification to my work by anyone other than me.

#mikasa x you #mikasa x reader #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction #mikasa ackerman #band au #modern au

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xxisxxisxxis · 4 years

Text

Shining Star | Part Two

[Axl Rose x OC]

Words: 3.1k

Warning(s): Explicit language, mentions of suicide

Tag list: @teller258316 @reigns420 @xpoisonousrosesx @oskea93 @blowinmeupwithherlove @redlipscrystalskies14 @sparxx27 @kaitieskidmore1 @sublimeprincesswasteland

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"Pretty as a picture." I say to myself, swiping lipstick across my lips in the bathroom mirror before I click the tube shut and make sure my hair looks good.

My stomach churns at the thought of seeing Tommy...and Vince.

I haven't spoken a word to Vince since he got Tami pregnant a year and a half ago, and I haven't spoken to Tommy since he leapt out of my bedroom window after 3 minutes of awkward sex.

"Do you fuck all of your friends?" My mother's words come back to bite me in the ass as I groan out in frustration.

The only plus to any of this is that I'll get to hang out with Viv.

There. Viv. Just focus on Vivian.

I leave the bathroom and glance around to see if I see any familiar faces.

Nope.

I pull the skirt of my dress down a little and rub my lips together, people passing left and right, looking either too drunk to be bothered or too busy.

"Tansy?" I hear a confused voice and look straight ahead, seeing Vivian by the payphone.

"Hey!" I reply excitedly, rushing to her as fast as I can, being careful not to trip over my feet adorned in red heels.

Vivian Sixx—Kinston at that point—had a ballet scholarship to Juilliard, never missed a Sunday church service, and was one of those annoyingly gorgeous girls that genuinely thought they were ugly. She couldn't stand her red hair because she was teased in middle school and called "firecrotch," she hated her freckles and her height because she'd been compared to a giraffe--"tall as shit with brown spots"--and the fact her mom was a batshit crazy Jesus lunatic never helped matters…but that stuff was all in her head because after middle school, guys looked at her differently, Jesus-lover and all. She saw annoying traits, but most people saw legs a mile long, a unique hair color that stood out in the sea of bleach blonde, freckles that framed emerald green eyes, and a heart as kind and beautiful inside as she was on the outside.

She's always said I was the most gorgeous woman she'd ever met, but she is, to me, the most stunning.

She didn't have to try to get anybody's attention, she walked in a room and she had it--so much so that Matt Sorum called her "Fire Woman" after The Cult song because he claimed that's the first thing that came to mind when he first saw her walking back stage at his first gig with Guns N' Roses. "She could give me the fucking clap and I'd kiss her feet for it." He told me, his facial expression mimicking someone who'd been struck by lightening twice…

People always looked at her like that but she rarely noticed because she'd be too busy looking up at Nikki with utter hearts in her eyes, but we'll get into that later.

"What are you doing here?" She asks me curiously.

"Vince called me and wanted me to come." I explain and she raises her brows.

"Vince?" She asks and I nod. "The same Vince that cheated on you multiple times Freshman year? And your entire relationship?"

"It's been, what, four years?" I ask, in reference to how long it's been since he and I started dating. "Maybe he's grown up a little." I suggest and she just clears her throat, cueing the hollering of an angry girl.

"Fuck you! Piece of shit! Motherfucker!" She shouts, the sound of her hitting Vince gets louder and she stomps down the hall as he follows after her, continuously trying to get her attention by saying "babe" repeatedly.

"My pants! Babe!" He's fully in sight now as she stomps off...and he's fully naked.

"Fuck you!" She calls back to him, leaving him behind.

"I fucking love those pants." He whines, disappointed, cupping his dick.

"Your swimsuit parts are out." Vivian tells him, and he and I make contact over her shoulder, my nerves tensing up anxiously as he looks at me with a grin.

"Hey, Tans." He says to me, about to come closer but Vivian stops him.

"Go put some clothes on." She orders to him and he rolls his eyes, turning and walking away, his butt shining as he leaves. "You had sex with that." She reminds me and I frown slightly.

"Yeah, he hasn't changed a bit has he?" I ask her and she shakes her head a little.

"He's gotten worse." She states. "Alright, c'mon, let's go see Tommy." She takes my hand and leads me to where he is, my heart nearly beating out of my chest.

How awkward is this going to be?

We turn the corner and see him and two other guys standing in their street clothes, and when Tommy sees me, all my nerves dissipate because he completely makes me forget our awkward sex never even happened.

"Tansy fucking Reilen!" He exclaims excitedly as I walk to him to hug him.

He leans down to reach my 5'3" height and wraps his arms tightly around me.

"Hey, Tommy!" I reply, just as happy.

This is the first time he, Vivian, and I, will be hanging out together...Viv's been having to hangout with us separately because we've been avoiding each other for the most part. I guess we don't have to, anymore.

He releases me, immediately turning to the ball of teased, jet black hair.

"This is Nikki," he informs me, "the band's bassist."

Hazel eyes--nearly green--look down at me behind his hair, traveling down my face, to my chest, down my legs, and back up again, the tiniest, mischievous smirk on his lips, and I raise my brow a tiny bit…

Trouble. Trouble. Trouble. Trouble. Is exactly what Nikki was, and it was all he and I could get ourselves into for years to follow.

"And this is Tansy." Tommy tells Nikki, oblivious to how he's looking at me.

"Nice to meet you." I tell Nikki.

"Yeah." He replies.

"And Mick, our guitarist." Tommy says next, nodding to the shorter man who's also got jet black hair.

"Hi." I say to him.

He just gives a small smile and mumbles, "hey."

"He's a little quiet but when you get to know him he opens up." Tommy says to me, quietly as Vince reappears with clothes on. "We were about to head to the rainbow," he starts next, his eyes flickering to Viv. "If someone's willing to stay out late."

"Fine." Vivian doesn't argue, sighing out.

"Hallelujah. Thank fuckin' God." Vince pipes, sliding his arm around my shoulder, making me roll my eyes.

The entire time to the Rainbow, Vivian and Nikki are constantly back and forth, tearing each other new assholes and going for each other's throats. I don't know what beef they have with each other but it's brutal and borderline sex fueled.

Once we get to the bar and grill, I drag Viv to the bathroom with me so I can touch up my makeup.

"So…" I start, looking in the mirror, "...have you lost your virginity yet?"

"No." She says it as if she's slightly offended.

"Oh."

"Why?"

"It's just…" I start but quickly decide that it'll just piss her off, probably. "Nothing."

"Tansy." She sighs, irritated. "What is it?"

"Nothing. I just thought you and that Nikki guy have messed around." I shrug and she looks like she's seen a ghost.

"I—ew why would you think that? We haven't." She insists and I hold my hands up in surrender.

"I'm sorry, I just thought you had." I tell her.

"What makes you think we have?"

"There's a tension." The words are framed by a smirk and she widens her eyes.

"There is not a tension. There is so not a tension." She gets it out without laughing although I can tell she wants to. “We argue. All the time. He thinks I’m a self-righteous prude and I think he’s the spawn of Satan. If there’s a tension, it’s because we hate each other.”

"You don't have to like someone to have sex with them." I inform her, speaking from experience of the guys who've had sex with me without giving a damn, and me having sex with guys I didn't necessarily like just to make them happy. "I really like him for you, though. You get all riled up and firey when he's around."

"Oh, please." She rolls her eyes.

“I just met the guy and I can tell he has you acting different. You used to be so quiet and shy around people you don’t really know, now you’re jumping in to conversations just to piss him off and prove him wrong.”

“Because I don’t like him.” She shakes her head. “And he doesn’t like me. That’s where the tension comes from. See? It’s full-circle.”

"Hate-sex is always an option." I suggest.

"Do not even start." She scolds me, pointing her finger.

"What? It gets rid of all the aggression and ill feelings." I explain.

“So does their shows. Did you know they encourage people to get their feelings out during a show so they go home chilled out and not so uptight?” she tells me and I look at her, not even the slightest bit convinced. “And it works.”

“Yeah, until he gets off stage and then you get all hot and bothered.” I reply with a grin.

“I get hot because he’s Devil-Spawn and the heat from hell radiates off of him and I get bothered because he’s an arrogant idiot.”

“Or you like him and don’t know why you do so you displace your frustration and confusion on to him.” I shoot back. “I was honestly joking about the hate sex okay? I don’t want you to go jump in to bed with him if you don’t want to but you two were fighting like cats and dogs the whole time we were on our way here. I think you should try to let whatever kind of bravery he evokes in you come out in a way that’s not in the form of riled up anger or fiery hatred.” I recommend and she nods a little. “Now, c’mon because I have a slutty blonde waiting.”

That was the night Mötley Crüe was signed to Elektra records by rock-god signing Tom Zutat, who's responsible for record companies grasping ahold of a plethora of leather-patented hair metal douchebags that could make good music and snort their way through long enough power rails of coke that once they reach the end of white powder without flinching, China's on the other side. But you want to know a secret? It was all bullshit. Every person I've met in that rock scene, you know, the ones that despised the term "hair metal" yet teased their hair two feet above their heads and played heavy metal? Yeah, them. Every single one of them had this "I was made for this shit" attitude.

Some of them nearly put bullets through their head, OD'd, hung themselves, turned their cars on and locked themselves in their garage...even the ones that hadn't purposely tried to take themselves out either almost pushed it too far and died accidentally from too much booze or drugs or vehicle accidents, or did push it too far.

They weren't made for it.

Nobody's fucking made for millions of people wanting a piece of them every single night, management running them to their grave for more money, dealers keeping them numb, all their relationships just exploding in their faces, all of their "friends" wanting more and more and more.

They thought they were made for it because when someone gets a taste of what they decide the universe or God or whoever or whatever destined for them to become, they take it and run with it without reading the fine print.

They see the fame without the lack of privacy and hangers-on.

They see the fans without the people who hate their guts and make it known.

They see the money without the gold diggers.

They see the excess without the high risk that comes with taking advantage of having everything with the snap of their fingers.

They see the glutton without the punishment.

Until they're standing on the railing of the balcony of their Hollywood penthouse, their best friend trying to talk them down while the police are on their way.

And then of course when they do turn up dead by suicide, people talk their typical, "how awful, they killed themselves in their mansion, surrounded by their expensive furniture, wearing their expensive clothes, with millions—possibly billions—in their bank account, how sad for them, boohoo."

As someone who's been dirt broke, to the point of getting my water cut off and having to shower at a friend's house, but then growing up to have more money than I knew what to do with aside from blow it on drugs? Money doesn't buy happiness, jerkoffs. It can buy distractions to buffer pain and suffering, sure, but once the high wears off, or that new car loses its luster, or that new house starts to feel fucking empty, all while that wall full of awards and plaques and magazine posters cementing your fame and worth and stake in the industry you sold your soul for just reminds you that you don't even recognize who the hell you are anymore and nothing can change that...you get fucking depressed. Hate to say it. Hate to be the bearer of bad news, that even though you're poor as shit and are depressed as shit that even if you had money and fame you'd still be fucking sad. But I'd rather tell you the truth than sell you the fallacy that me and everybody else I was friends with bought, that landed every single one of us in situations where we felt we had no other way except to just off ourselves all while remembering when we were stupid enough to proudly say: "I was made for this."

People are made for this like Matthew Trippe replaced Nikki Sixx, which—if you want the truth—is complete bullshit.

“He said we could possibly score a five album deal, Viv, why aren’t you happy about this? I thought you wanted us to get signed?” Tommy asks Vivian as she slings her keys across the guys' shitty living room, pissed beyond measure.

“You just told me you were dropping out of school, Tommy! We are so close to graduating, can’t you just wait?!”

“No, I can’t! I can’t just wait because what I wanted is happening and I need to focus on the band right now more than ever!” He argues while motioning to Nikki and Vince, who, like me, are being smart and staying near the door incase we need to get out of sight once Vivian and Tommy kill each other.

“Your education should be your main focus, at least until you graduate! You are so close to being done, Tommy, why can’t you just—“

“Because I don’t give a fuck about school, Vivian! What I am passionate about doesn’t require a diploma, and I’m sorry if me dropping out makes you feel like I’m leaving you behind or whatever the fuck you feel, but I’m not sorry for wanting to focus on my main priority!”

“What I’m hearing is that I wasted hours of my time throughout school trying to tutor you and help you all for you to throw it away on the idea of being some hot-shot rockstar with girls and drugs and booze—”

“Oh, my God, you act like you would have had better things to do with that wasted time!” He sounds like he already knows he's gonna lose the argument while Vivian just rolls her jaw. “And it’s not a fucking idea, it’s fucking reality and you’re only mad because you have no control over it!”

“I’m mad because we talked about this and everything we agreed on, everything we promised each other, is absolute void to you now that it’s actually happening!”

“Shit changes, Viv, people change! What I considered important junior year is completely different than what I consider important now.” He calms down, sighing.

“We agreed we would both graduate high school and I could either put off college or drop out if I needed to...” she trails off, her voice shaking slightly with oncoming tears, making me feel bad for her. “That was our plan to avoid this from happening. To avoid you leaving me behind.” Now it's crystal clear why she's freaking out over them being offered a record deal. “You considered me important junior year when you came up with that plan. When you promised me you wouldn’t go on to bigger things without me and forget me. And now...” She takes a step back, while Tommy attempts to walk to her.

“Viv, I didn’t mean it like that.” He tries to tell her.

“No, you’re right.” she replies, her body shaking a little. “Shit changes.” I raise my brow because I've never heard her curse before. “People change.” She keeps on. “Glad this is happening now, though, so I don’t waste any more time on a completely different page than you, Tommy.” Her voice cracks a little and she grabs her keys quickly.

“Viv—“ Tommy tries to grab her arm as she heads to the door but she snatches away from him. “Fuck you.” she cracks, her voice barely coming out as tears spill over her lashes.

Nikki and Vince step aside to let her leave all while I contemplate following her, but if I know Vivian, I know she likes to think about things when she's upset, rather than just talk them out with someone. Which is the only time she likes to be alone.

She just slams the door on us, and Tommy.

Most definitely wouldn't be the last time she did that.

"Tommy, are you—"

"—I'm goin' home." He grumbles, grabbing his keys, and me and Nikki and Vince all look at each other.

"Tommy, you are home?" Nikki reminds him.

"I'm stayin' with my folks so I can vent to my sister because she's the only one who knows Viv good enough to know she's being fuckin' unreasonable." He states.

"I barely know her and I can tell you she's unreasonable." Nikki scoffs, earning a glare. "Sorry, man." He mumbles in return.

"Bye." Tommy says, closing the door behind him.

"Well...I'm gonna go find a chick to fuck." Vince says, stretching.

"You got one right here." Nikki chuckles looking at me and I raise my brows.

"Not since I knocked Tami up." Vince reads my mind and I nod.

"Exactly." I reply.

"Who?" Nikki asks.

"Nobody. Don't wait up." He tells us, opening the door and leaving, too, more than likely heading to the strip club down the street.

"So, like, how old are you?" Nikki asks.

"Why?"

He just gets a shit eating grin on his lips.

#shining star

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blushingbarnes · 4 years

Text

seven types of love (3)

Series summary: There are seven different types of love, and over the course of knowing you, Bucky experiences every single one.

warnings: boyfriends being toxic and verbally abusive. slow burn

~series masterlist~

~agape- a universal type of love~

You look at the cup, then back at your phone, back to the cup, and back to the phone.

It had been 20 minutes since you’d gotten home, and you’d been debating texting the number ever since.

It wasn’t an unusual thing for a friend to give you their number, right? But then again, Bucky wasn’t exactly a normal friend.

You shake yourself out of your thoughts, and pick up your phone. You type the number into your phone, and hover your fingers over the keyboard.

You should be teasing right? Make a joke? You haven’t started a new text conversation in ages.

Wait, why are you thinking about this so much? It doesn’t matter, it’s not like you’re trying to flirt with him.

You decide to start with “You couldn’t have thought of a better joke?” Simple, and he would probably understand that it was you.

After sending the text, you created a contact. You saved the name as ‘B’. That way, Will wouldn’t freak out that you had Bucky’s number.

You check the time, it’s about 3:15. You decided to put a show on in the background while you wrote some notes for some of your upcoming sessions.

You put on Criminal Minds, and began to work.

About 15 minutes later, your phone dinged. You checked it, and read the message.

“I only had about 30 seconds to write the message sweetheart, I couldn’t think of a better one.” The message read. You laughed to yourself, and wrote something back.

“So are you sneaking your phone at work, or are you off now?” You asked, and set your phone down.

You attempt to get back to work, but soon realize that you can’t. Your mind was clouded, and you kept on checking your phone.

You hadn’t felt this way since high school, checking your phone obsessively to talk to a boy.

You chalked it up to just being excited to have a new friend. Recently, work has been eating you alive, and you haven't had much time for anything else.

Reminded that you haven’t had time to do anything else, you go to your fridge to see if you need to stock up on any essentials. As you are making a mental list, you hear your phone ding again.

You move embarrassingly fast back to the living room to check your phone.

Yet it’s not a text from Bucky, but from Will.

“Wanna hang out later” The text reads.

“Of course” You reply, locking your phone. Almost as soon as you do that, your phone screen turns on again, this time from two texts.

“Ok cool i’ll pick you up in like an hour” Will’s text reads. You reply with a simple okay.

Bucky’s text says ‘I’m sorry for the late response. I was driving home from work, so i guess that answers your question ;)’ This is followed up by another text. ‘Besides, how could i make all of the fancy drinks at the shop if i’m distracted by my phone?’

You smile as you text back, ‘That’s definitely true, the latte art you do is too pretty for you to be distracted.’

You see the typing icon almost as soon as you send the text. You can’t help but think that Bucky is also sitting there, with his phone open on the messages, expecting your text.

“What can I say doll, I’m the best of the best :P” Bucky types. “What are you up to this evening?”

“Just hanging out with Will, you?” After you send that message, you head to your bathroom to begin fixing your hair to see Will.

Your phone lights up beside you on your bathroom counter.

“Just a night in for me, might be with my buddy Sam.” Bucky replies.

“Nice, I probably won’t reply for a while, Will is probably going to be here soon. Don’t miss me too much.”

“I can’t promise anything darling :)” Bucky says.

You set your phone down, and continue getting ready.

Later, you’re in the car with Will. You guys are just going to get a quick bite to eat before you hang out at the house.

“All I’m saying is that aliens don’t exist. We are definitely the highest thing that there is.” Will says, one hand on the steering wheel, and one gesturing.

“Well now you’re just being ignorant, there’s now way out of all the planets and solar systems that we are the only things out there. Even the only survivable planet!” You exclaim, throwing your hands down in a fit.

“Nevermind, I’m not starting a fight over a stupid thing.” Will says, shaking his head.

“I’m just saying it doesn’t make sense for you to-”

“Shut up!” Will almost yells. “Goddamn, I say nevermind and you just keep going on.” He sighs.

“Don’t talk to me like that.” You say, standing your ground.

“Whatever, we’re going home.” Will says, switching lanes to turn around to go back to your house.

You sit in disbelief, and turn your head towards your window. You begin to pick at your fingernails, a nervous habit that you had picked up during childhood.

Will pulls up at your apartment building. “So.” He says, and looks at you in an expectant manner.

“What?” You ask, eyes wide with confusion.

“Are you ready to apologize?” Will asks, with clear arrogance on his face.

“What on earth would I have to apologize for?” You exclaim, in probably a too harsh tone of voice.

“I don’t know, maybe for calling me ignorant?” Will says, crossing his arms.

“I’m not apologizing.” You say, and pick up your bag, and begin to get out of the car. You halt for a moment, and slump slightly back into your seat.

“I love you.” You say, looking towards him.

“Love you too.” Will says, and looks out the window.

You sigh, and get out of the car to walk to your apartment.

You throw your keys onto the table, and head to your room. You flop down face-first onto the bed.

You lay like this for a moment, then you turn your head, and pick up your phone.

You go to your message thread with Bucky.

“Would you like to hang out sometime?” You ask, and then immediately put your phone face down, not wanting to read the answer.

The reply takes a few minutes, but it comes.

“I thought you’d never ask, when are you free?” Bucky asks.

You let out a sigh of relief. You check your schedule for the next day. ‘Tomorrow after work? I’m pretty much free after 4.”

“Sounds good. I’ll pick you up and then we’ll see what to do from there?” Bucky suggests.

You agree, and give him your address.

Bucky smiles as he sets his phone down next to him on the couch. He glances back to whatever game Sam had wanted to watch this time.

“Are you talking to that girl who has a boyfriend?” Sam asks, looking over at Bucky.

“No.” Bucky scoffs, and Sam looks at him, knowing that Bucky is lying. “Okay, fine, yes.” Bucky admits.

“You’re gonna get ya’self killed man.” Sam says, laughing and shaking his head.

“We’re just friends.” Bucky says, a blush covering his cheeks.

“Keep telling yourself that.” Sam teases.

The next day, Bucky is quite literally counting down the seconds until he gets off work. He makes the drinks faster, maybe in hope that that makes the day go by faster.

That is until you come in.

Peter switches, Bucky takes your order.

“Hot date tonight ma’am?” Bucky asks, taking in your appearance, but not necessarily in a creepy way.

“You wish Barnes.” You laugh. “Can I get a vanilla latte?” You ask.

“Of course darling, I’ll pick you up around 6, okay?” Bucky confirms.

“Sounds good.” You smile, and begin to take out your wallet.

“Don’t worry, it’s on me.” Bucky smiles.

“Oh, thank you.” You seem a bit flustered, but accept.

When you get your drink and are about to walk out of the shop, you wave to Bucky.

“See ya later doll!” Bucky waves.

“Did you finally get a date with that girl?” Peter asks him. Bucky looks at him with a glare. “Nah kid, she’s got a boyfriend. We’re just friends”

Peter rolls his eyes, “Okay…” Peter says, his voice laced with disbelief. Bucky hits him lightly.

Hours later, Bucky pulls into your apartment parking lot.

He texts you “I’m here :)” and waits patiently in his car.

Then, he sees you. Most of the other times he’s seen you, you are coming to or from work. He doesn’t get to see your casual wear too often.

But he loves it, the black jeans and blue graphic tee that you’re sporting.

He is torn from his thoughts when you open the door. “Hey Bucky!” You smile as you get into the car.

“Hey Y/n.” Bucky softly smiles.

“So, where are we going?” You ask as you buckle your seatbelt.

“I was thinking, there’s a little strip that I know of with a bunch of cool shops and restaurants, so we can sort of pick around there?” Bucky says, hope in his eyes.

“Sounds good.” You say, smiling.

In the car, Bucky asks for more details about your job, claiming you know so much about his.

He notices the way that your eyes light up when you talk about it, he loves it.

Bucky parks a good amount away from where everything is as it nears dusk.

“Cmon, follow me.” Bucky says, unbuckling his seatbelt. He would’ve opened your door, but you were already out of the car.

As you two are walking, you admire all of the cute boutiques and stores. Bucky notices that you’ve complimented many people, telling them you like their hair, and other things.

Bucky’s heart swells, and he thinks about how much you share your heart with the world, it makes him happy.

Bucky sees an ice cream store, and directs your attention to it. “Want to get ice cream?” Bucky’s points.

“Sure!” You say, and begin to walk towards the shop.

The bell rings as you enter, and Bucky sees your smile grow.

“I love the 50s!” You say, taking in the fact that the shop is 50s themed, with decor all around.

You walk up to the counter, and begin to order, “Can I get a medium german chocolate?” You say, smiling at the older man working the shop.

“Of course dear.” He smiles, and turns to Bucky.

“Just a medium cookie dough.” He smiles, and gets out his wallet. Bucky hands the man the card, and looks at you.

“You already paid for my coffee today, and now you gotta pay for my ice cream?” You ask, it being obvious that you’re fake offended.

“I‘ve gotta share the obvious wealth I have sweetie, us baristas make millions.” Bucky says, a smile on his face.

You playfully roll your eyes, and wait to receive your ice cream.

Once you do, you thank the man; and you and Bucky sit down on the chairs provided. You two get on the topic of Bucky’s younger sister, Rebecca, and all of the antics she used to pull. You bond over how your younger sibling used to do similar things.

Once you’re finished, you throw away your container, and walk out of the shop.

You’re drawn to the music that you can softly hear, and begin to walk towards it.

You reach the small amphitheater that the music is coming from. The small jazz band had their cases open, so you dropped a few ones in there.

You begin to sway to the soft music, and then turn to Bucky. “May I have this dance m’lady.” You ask, tipping an imaginary hat.

Bucky laughs, taking the hand you had outstretched. Bucky ends up taking the lead, because that’s what he’s used to.

He looks into your eyes as you dance, getting lost in them. He feels like he can see the rest of his life through your eyes.

He’s snapped out of the trance when you accidentally step on his feet. “Ahh, sorry, I’m not good at this.” You say, regret on your face.

“It’s okay, doll, I'll show you.” He says, and begins to show you the steps.

“There… you’re getting it.” Bucky smiles.

Bucky spins you, and when you turn back to Bucky, you’re awfully close.

You and Bucky’s foreheads are almost touching, and your eyes are locked.

Bucky’s head is racing, and he doesn’t know what to do. His eyes dart to your lips, and back to your eyes. He just wants to know what you’re thinking. He licks his lips almost on instinct.

You clear your throat, and Bucky steps away from you, clearing his throat as well.

“It’s getting late right?” He asks, checking the non-existent watch on his wrist.

“Yeah, it is.” You say, trying to hide your blush in the dim light.

“I’ll take you home, cmon.” Bucky says, letting you go in front of him.

Bucky tries to make conversation, but the rest of the way home is filled with awkward silence

***

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #barista!bucky #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barnes fic #one shot #mcu #marvel #bucky barnes imagine #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes headcanon

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bijackkellys · 4 years

Text

thunderstruck ; part three

safe haven.

Fandom: Newsies (All Media Types) Relationships: Jack Kelly/David Jacobs/Katherine Plumber Pulitzer Word Count: 4,352 Dedications: a huge huge shoutout to my beta and gf @mistyw273 without whom this fic would not exist! tag list (if you’d like to be added to this list just send me an ask or dm!): @dimenovelcowboy @santa-fe-maniac @pulitzers-world @yo-let-me-get-a-milkyway @verified-dumbass @jewishdavidjacobs @agentsnickers @thetruthabouttheboy @the-games-changing Author’s Note: yes i know what i said and i'm aware that it's been WEEKS since i posted and i have absolutely nothing to say for myself. except that i'm the worst. and also that i'm going to stop making promises and tell you guys straight out that i'm probably not going to be any better at updating from this point forward, especially considering i'm working on college apps and sat prep right now. but it's fine! i hope the fact that this chapter is only like 10 words less than all the other chapters so far put together sort of makes up for it? but i kind of hate this part; i have a ton of exposition to get through so i'm really really sorry if it sucks and you've waited this long for like 4.3k of bullshit. i'm also sorry that i still haven't introduced kath—she will get here in the next chapter and she will play no small role in this fic, i promise!! we've just got a lot to get through leading up to that. anyway, thank you to everyone who's read and reviewed so far, and if you're still here despite my questionable reliability (or lack thereof) i love you, personally. tws for this chapter includes a minor panic attack, mentions of vomiting but it's pretty brief, and that's about it.

read it on ao3

MEDDA IS SINGING when they get to her apartment.

Even through the closed door, Jack can hear her voice lilting down the corridor, a bittersweet melody that he can’t quite remember but loves all the same. It makes him falter, makes his throat close up as warmth and the ache of missing her spread through his chest in time with each other. He doesn’t know what she’ll say when she sees him, and the thought of her viewing him as a killer nearly makes his knees buckle. Distantly he thinks that it doesn’t matter what the world has been told as long as she believes him.

“Is this it?” the older boy says behind him, gesturing to the door that Jack is staring at. He’d mostly been quiet the whole walk here, but now he’s looking at Jack expectantly.

Jack nods and pushes back the tide of emotions swelling in his chest. If he waits any longer he might never be able to do this. He knocks twice on the door, and her singing cuts off abruptly; he hears her voice saying “Coming!” and then the lock clicking as the door swings open.

“Hi, Miss Medda,” Jack says hoarsely.

She stares at him. For this brief, terrible moment, he thinks she’s going to turn him away, and then she’s crying and oh, she pulls him into a hug. Something he’s been trying to hold back since he found himself running in the streets hours ago spills forth. In her arms he can’t stop the tears; he feels suddenly twelve years old again, scared and small but not alone, not anymore.

“You’re alive,” she’s saying, over and over, like a mantra. “Oh, baby, you’re really here.”

Jack clings to her tightly. “I didn’t do it,” he breathes, desperate for her to know as she runs a hand through his hair. “The fire—that wasn’t me.”

“I didn’t believe them for one second.” Medda pulls him back at arm’s length. “But where have you been?”

He winces, looks away. “The Refuge. I just escaped.” Her mouth opens again but he shakes his head slightly and she nods, understanding immediately.

“It’s okay, sweetie. We’ll talk later,” she says, and cups his cheek with a gentle hand. He leans into it, starved of positive contact like this for so long. “Jack Kelly,” she says warmly, her eyes shining—he’s gotten so used to hearing his name spit at him like a curse—“I thought I’d never see you again.” She huffs a laugh and smiles at him, wiping at his eyes with her thumb. “Don’t you ever disappear on me like that again, you understand?”

He gives a watery chuckle, maybe his first in months. “I’ll do my best, Miss Medda.”

She pulls him into another hug, squeezing his shoulders tightly, before her eyes come to rest on the two boys still standing awkwardly in the hallway. “And who are your new friends?” she asks.

“Oh, this is—” Jack breaks off, realizing abruptly that they had never gotten to introductions. The younger of the two steps forward and puffs his chest out.

“I’m Les, and this is my brother, David,” he says brightly. He’s been solemn since Jack met him, no doubt jarred by his experience with the Snatchers, but Medda’s warmth is notoriously infectious. Even the kid’s older brother—Davey—cracks a smile.

“It’s nice to meet you, ma’am,” he says politely, and Medda beams and waves a hand.

“None of that. It’s Miss Medda to you, darling. Come on in,” She steps out of the doorway and gestures inside, placing a gentle hand on the small of Jack’s back as she ushers him in. He’s grateful for it, a grounding presence that reminds him he’s really here in front of her. “Stay as long as you like, boys.”

In the last few hours alone, Jack has felt like he’s been thrust into an entirely different world. Entering Medda’s apartment is a burst of shining familiarity; there’s the elegant wooden piano in the corner, the blooming plants lining the windowsills, the photos of the theater and the paintings Jack has done over the years hanging on the walls. The faint smell of cinnamon in the air. He may never have lived here, but it feels like coming home all the same.

“I’ve still got the clothes you’ve left here, if you want to change,” Medda tells him. “I’ll get something going for us to eat—how does Sancocho sound? I don’t have any plantains, and now I know it’s not quite the same without them—”

“That sounds incredible, Miss Medda,” Jack says, his mouth already watering. For as long as he’s known her, Medda has always made it a point to give him and the other boys a taste of home however she can manage. She’d tested recipes for Sancocho for months until she’d perfected the warm, rich stew that always drew up distant memories of Jack’s mother.

Medda smiles at him and bustles into the kitchen, pulling vegetables from the fridge. “David, Les, is there anything you two don’t eat?” she calls to them.

“Oh, we keep Kosher, so no pork, shellfish, or meat and dairy together? And Les can’t have peanuts. Sorry,” Davey responds quickly.

“No worries, darling, this recipe doesn’t call for any of that anyway. Dinner will be ready in a couple of hours—Jack, why don’t you go clean up and get some rest? You look exhausted, baby.”

It’s one of those things he doesn’t fully realize until she points out, and then it hits him full-force; he thinks his legs will give with the impact of it. He’s tired and starved and wants absolutely nothing more than to take a hot shower and eat and sleep through the next day—and in truth the only thing holding him back is the still-stinging bite of the cuffs around his wrists.

“Uh, Miss Medda—you got a screwdriver somewhere around here?” he asks tentatively, rubbing at the skin underneath them.

Her gaze drifts to his hands and she winces in sympathy. “In the office down the hall. There’s a toolkit on the shelf—you need some help, Jack?”

He shakes his head. “No, I’ve got it,” he says as he heads into the room.

It turns out to be harder than he expected. He spends a good ten minutes hacking at the cuffs with a screwdriver, but all he really succeeds in doing is scraping his wrists raw. He’s getting desperate, though—the longer he’s stripped of his powers, the less he feels like himself, and the silver steel is nothing but a jolting reminder of everything that’s happened. He needs to find a way to get these stupid things off.

“It doesn’t look like you’ve got it.”

Jack’s head snaps up to see Davey standing in the doorway, his hands in his pockets. His expression is hard to read, half-concerned but laced with something else, and he’s sort of tentative as he steps into the room and kneels down beside Jack. “Here, let me.” He holds his hand out for the screwdriver.

Jack gives it to him and splays his hands out in between them. Davey switches out the head of the tool for a tiny flathead and gets to work on the right cuff, astonishingly careful. His slender, practiced fingers pry open a tiny panel on the side of the cuff, exposing the circuit board underneath.

“You seem to know what you’re doing,” Jack notes.

Davey pauses his movement for a split second and then continues without looking up. “I was captain of my high school robotics team for two years,” he responds. “And I’m an engineering major.”

Jack clings to this small piece of information; it’s the first thing he’s learned about Davey since they met, and he’s already desperate for more. “Where do you go?” he asks. At this, Davey tenses up, and Jack bites back a wince. “I’m not trying to interrogate you,” he says flatly, after a moment. “Guess I just...thought you’d changed your mind about me.”

Davey’s dark eyes latch on to Jack’s for just a moment before darting away. “I don’t know yet,” he answers finally. He prods at the wires of the cuff; there’s this crinkle in his brow that Jack can’t help but think is sort of endearing. “Miss Medda seems like a really good person,” he continues, still barely looking at Jack. “And she clearly loves you a lot. It’s possible you could be lying to her, too, but the way you were when you saw her—no one’s that good of an actor.”

“So what’s your holdup?”

“I’m not sure what to believe.” Davey twists the screwdriver and bites his lip, then meets Jack’s gaze at last. “After you—after the hospital burned down, the whole city was in chaos. No one knew what to think or who to blame—the police revealed that the sprinkler line had been damaged, and that some of the exits had been sealed, and that the fire started because the power box had been tampered with.”

Jack’s stomach twists. “I don’t understand...you—you’re saying it wasn’t an accident?”

“I think if it had been, it would’ve been contained a lot faster,” Davey says darkly. “It hadn’t even been a week before The World published a full story about how it was Strike’s doing. Jack, there were witness statements, sources explaining how your powers could’ve caused this—”

“I was trying to save people,”

“A lot of people thought you had done it by accident. Or that you’d...snapped, or something.”

“I nearly died in that fire.” He isn’t entirely sure he hadn’t, to be honest. Everything since then is blurry and out of place, and he feels like he’s been set right back to grappling desperately for a handhold, like he’s in the center of an inferno all over again—

There’s a click of metal on metal and the cuff on his right hand clatters to the floor.

“Got it,” Davey says, and suddenly Jack can breathe again. Even with the cuff still circling his left hand, he feels electricity surge through him, that familiar hum of lightning beneath his skin. A part of him he hasn’t felt in so, so long.

Sparks dance over his fingertips, and the air fills with static. He can see the hairs on Davey’s arms standing on end and despite everything, fights the urge to laugh. Davey looks at him, eyes wide with amazement, and Jack wonders if he can taste the power in the air, too.

“Thanks,” Jack says, breathless as he runs his hand over the torn skin of his wrist.

Davey nods and gently takes his left hand, starting the process again and evidently more sure of what he’s doing now. “Jack,” he begins, but whatever he’s going to say next, Jack doesn’t let him finish.

“Someone set me up,” he says fiercely, trying hard not to sound as desperate for Davey to believe him as he really is. “Whatever evidence and witnesses they had—it was fake.”

“Okay, but why?” Davey presses. “Why go through all this trouble to frame a dead man? How did they get The World to publish a bunch of false information? And if someone really is trying to pin this on you,” there’s a click, and the cuff around Jack’s left hand pings against the ground, “who set the fire in the first place?”

Jack can’t remember the last time he’d had a hot shower. Even before the fire—and god, Jack is really about to start categorizing his life events as before and after his death, like that’s not absolutely insane—the lodging house never really had a surplus of hot water, especially with so many of them. Standing under it now, though, everything else melts into the background. There are scars and bruises along his skin that he hadn’t even noted before, but the water is like instant relief; he doesn’t have to think, just lets it wash him clean.

By the time he gets out, the effects of the drugs, which have been weaning away for hours now, seem completely gone. Everything is sharper, like he’s been thrusted into high-definition, his thoughts clearer and his memories—well, his memories becoming more painful by the second.

It’s not easy, trying to push it all back. As he pulls on fresh clothes, Jack stares at himself in the mirror, at the jagged scars raised against his chest and the tiny spots that pockmark his forearms where he remembers needles going in, and tries to reconcile this picture of himself—exhausted and hollowed out and afraid—with the identity he’d spent so long building up from the ground. He doesn’t look like Strike, New York City’s favorite vigilante. He looks like a scared kid.

He doesn’t know what to do. Something bigger than himself is brewing in the city, he knows it, he has to stop it. But he doesn’t know how. People are counting on him and Jack just wants to forget any of this ever happened.

There’s so much noise. Davey’s questions are ringing in his ears and behind them there are voices telling him he’s never, ever going to get out, and he thinks he might be on fire. Everything is too hot and too loud and hurts.

There’s nothing in his stomach to throw up, but he dry heaves over the toilet anyway.

Jack sits back on the cold tile floor and drags his knees up to his chest. He could just go—break out the money he’s been saving and skip town, hop on a bus all the way to Santa Fe. Crutchie could come with him, and he could change his name—again—and start fresh. Never see this place again.

Except there’s an arsonist on the loose in the city. There are Snatchers all over the streets, and maybe Jack wants nothing more than to leave it but New York is still his city, still his place to protect. He can’t just leave.

Jack tilts his head towards the ceiling, biting back the urge to scream. The unsteady silence is broken by a tentative knock at the door, and then Medda’s voice—“Jack, honey,” she says, “Dinner’s ready. You okay in there?”

Slowly, he picks himself off the floor, pulls the loose hoodie hanging on the door on over his clean t-shirt, takes a shuddering breath. “I’ll be right out,” he calls through the door, and glances at his reflection one more time. He can be Strike again. He can do this.

And even if he can’t, he has to.

The Sancocho is perfect, warm and spicy and brimming with the taste of home. By the time he’s inhaled maybe three servings and helped clear the dishes, Jack is so exhausted that he doesn’t even make it to the guest room. He just stumbles towards the couch and collapses there with the sunlight still spilling in through the windows, falling hard and fast into a heavy sleep.

It’s dark when he bolts awake. He feels hot and breathless, his heart racing against his ribcage, and whatever awful memory had invaded his dreams left the sharp taste of metal in his mouth. Sparks flicker across his fingers, blinding blue-white in the darkness, and Jack curls his hands into fists to quell the lightning brimming in his veins. His eyes dart to the clock on the wall; it’s just past one in the morning. He doesn’t think he’ll get back to sleep any time soon.

He maneuvers around the coffee table to stumble blindly towards the kitchen instead. A dim glow catches his eye, then; Davey is sitting at the bar stools, hunched over his laptop.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Jack says, and Davey starts and then swears.

“Jeez, you gave me a heart attack,” he huffs as Jack chuckles lightly and fills a glass with water. “I thought you were still asleep. And...no. You?”

Jack shrugs. “I slept okay, got a few good hours. But I don’t think I can go back to bed. What are you doing?” he asks, nodding towards the open laptop.

Davey hesitates. “Miss Medda let me borrow her computer. I’m trying to contact the rest of my family,” he replies, his gaze flitting between the screen and Jack’s eyes. “When Les and I ran off there were already Snatchers at our house. None of them have powers, though. Just Les.” He works his lip between his teeth. “They said not to contact them in case the Snatchers found some way to trace it back to us, but I set up a separate email account and sent them a vague message, hoping they’ll know it’s me. I just need to know if they’re okay.”

Jack’s chest twists in sympathy. Davey’s family is just one more example of all the lives the Snatchers have torn apart—and Jack is the poster boy for their whole agenda. He has to fix this, for Davey, and for the rest of his city. “You’ll see them again soon, Davey,” he says—yet another promise he can’t afford to break—“I’m gonna make this right, okay?”

“How?” Davey scoffs. “You don’t even know where to start.”

Jack slips his hands into the pockets of his clean hoodie and feels the familiar weight of the flash drive he’d placed there. Actually, he might have some idea. “Can I use the computer?” Jack says, barely waiting for Davey’s nod before taking a seat on the barstool beside him and plugging the flash drive in.

“What is that?” Davey’s brow furrows.

“Honestly? I’m not sure. I took this from a computer in the Refuge’s control room, hoping I’d find something important. Maybe something here could give us a clue of what’s really going on.” There’s only a handful of files on the drive, and they’re labeled with numbers instead of actual names. Jack opens the first one and feels his heart sink. “Shit. It’s encrypted.”

“Let me try,” Davey says, pulling the laptop towards him and typing furiously. The computer makes a few error noises in protest as he works through the code, but Davey is laser-focused, seems to know exactly what he’s doing. He’s some kind of genius. “Got it,” he announces after a few minutes. Sure enough, the screen flickers, and rows of text begin to replace the numbers and symbols from before.

“That was incredible,” Jack tells him.

Davey shrugs and ducks his head, smiling just a little before turning back to the screen. “They look like email exchanges. Between some guy named Snyder—” Jack feels a cold trickle of shock run through him at that name, “—and...Joseph Pulitzer.”

“Wait, Pulitzer?” Jack leans forward to read over Davey’s shoulder. “As in the CEO of The World?”

“He’s running for mayor in next month’s election,” Davey explains. “It looks like he’s trying to get Snyder’s support? He’s promising money to fund the Refuge. But why would—shit.” There’s something dawning on his expression as he looks up at Jack, eyes blown wide. “Jack, a lot of his campaign has relied on anti-super propaganda. And...The World was the one who first published the story about you setting the fire.”

The realization crashes into him, hard and fast. “He’s the one who framed me.” Jack feels a hot rush of anger surge through him. “For what, a political platform? So that he could give the people a common enemy? Holy shit, did he set that fire for this...twisted agenda?”

“I can’t believe this,” Davey shakes his head, leaning back in his chair and tugging his hands through his dark hair, shell-shocked. “How could he do something like this?”

How could he?

“I’m going to kill him,” Jack says fiercely, and the lights above him flicker. He stands up, feeling wild, brimming with untamed fury—innocent people died for Pulitzer’s insane power grab, and he has to pay for that. He can’t get away with this, he won’t; Jack can’t find it in himself to mitigate his anger right now, he needs to find Pulitzer and fix this.

“Jack—Jack!” Davey’s hand latches around his wrist and a shock like static electricity bursts between them, making him pull back. “Wait. You’re not thinking clearly.”

“What, you just want me to let him walk? He killed people, Davey. Innocent people.”

“You don’t actually know that yet.”

“I know enough,” Jack snaps, pulling back. “This can’t all be a coincidence, it makes too much sense. He has to be behind this, behind everything.”

“I’m not arguing that.” Davey is astonishingly calm; Jack doesn’t know how he can keep his resolve right now, after finding out something this sick. “But what are you going to do, break into his house and murder him? What is that going to solve? Things are only gonna get worse for supers.”

Jack hesitates. Davey is right—a personal attack on one of the most influential people in New York would make him even more of a villain than he already is. And every super in the city would suffer from it. He can’t make this some sort of revenge plot; he has to be smart about it. He takes a shuddering breath. “Then I’ll expose him. These emails—”

“—aren’t enough. All you have from this is a theory. Pulitzer would just find a way to spin it, make you look like the bad guy here. Again.” He shakes his head. “He holds all the cards right now. We have to find hard, indisputable evidence. What we need is a way to get close to him.”

“We?” Out of everything, that’s the word Jack gets hung up on. Davey’s making it sound as though they’re partners.

Davey looks at him for a second. “I believe you, Jack,” he says finally. “I’m sorry I didn’t before. I don’t think you set that fire, and if we’re right, and Pulitzer did frame you, and we can find proof...we might be able to stop everything. Shut down the Refuge for good.”

“No, no—I’m not dragging you into this any further than I already have,” Jack stops him before he can go any further. His whole time as Strike, he’s been a solo act for a reason—not for lack of Race or Specs or Elmer trying to get him to let them join him—but because he can’t bring himself to pull someone else into this life. Especially not someone like Davey, who’s an engineering student, and a genius, and has a family. He’s got his whole life ahead of him. “I appreciate everything you’ve done to help me so far, I really do, but I can take it from here. You and your brother just lay low and stay out of trouble.”

“You can’t do this by yourself,” Davey argues. There’s something hardening behind his eyes, something bright and sharp and determined. “I’ve already shown you what I can do, so let me help you.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

He snorts, defensive. “I can handle it.”

“You think so?” Jack stares him down, skin buzzing. “I almost died because of this, and I may not remember everything about the Refuge, but I can tell you that it wasn’t pretty. If we try to take Pulitzer, there’s a good chance we don’t make it out alive.”

Davey doesn’t break his gaze. “But if we do it together, we double our odds,” he says quietly. When Jack snorts and turns away, Davey keeps going. “This is so much bigger than you or me, Jack. If we can pull this off, we could make New York safe for supers again. I promised that I would protect Les, but I can’t do that as long as there are Snatchers roaming the streets and as long as Pulitzer has power. And you can’t protect this city if you’re dead.”

Jack wishes he didn’t have a point. “You could get hurt,” he counters. “You don’t even have powers.”

“You’ll protect me,” Davey replies swiftly, and something in Jack’s stomach twists.

“You have an awful lot of faith for someone who didn’t trust me an hour ago,” he says grimly, eyes darting away from Davey’s fierce ones.

“You don’t have to do this alone,” Davey presses, unrelenting, and god, the offer is tempting. Davey clearly knows his way around his computers and technology, a skill that could be really helpful here, and more than that, Jack stupidly, selfishly doesn’t want to do this by himself. He wants a partner. He’s tired of being alone, and he hates himself for it.

“We do this on my terms,” Jack says finally, and in the corner of his eye, he can see Davey smiling. “I say get out, you get out. You’ve got to be smart about this. Got it?”

“Understood,” Davey nods. “I’ll be okay, Jack. I promise. So where do we start?”

“It’s like you said, we have to get close to Pulitzer.” Jack sits back down, racks his brain for anything that could help. Pulitzer is a private person, watching the rest of the city from high off the ground; getting close to him would require someone who already knows him well. He can practically see the lightbulb over his head when it hits him—he knows the perfect candidate. He just hopes she’ll be willing to join them.

“I know someone who might be able to help,” Jack says, already drafting an email—coded words like the two of them used to use when he was just starting out as Strike. “She interned as Pulitzer’s personal assistant for a while when she was in high school, but the last time I saw her she was a journalism student, working for The Sun. She may not work for him anymore, but she knew Pulitzer as well as anyone.” Jack takes a deep breath and pleads silently that she’ll believe him, then sends the message.

“And you think she’ll know what to do?” Davey asks.

“I’m sure of it.” Jack has always had faith in her; he knows she’ll come through, will fight for what she believes in. “If cards are what we’re playing,” he tells Davey, suddenly brimming with a newfound sense of determination, “then Katherine Plumber is our ace.”

#THUNDERSTRUCK #newsies #writing #my writing #umanawrites #newsies fanfic #jack kelly #david jacobs #javid #jathvey #ot3: watch what happens #newsies the musical

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inkshro0m · 4 years

Text

Logan's Secret Emotion - A Platonic LAMP Oneshot

cba to get rid of the big gaps so.... sorry bout that😅

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Logan found it very hard to express his emotions. He kept them all to himself in his big brain, the one that's stuffed with knowledge and facts. Or that's what Virgil, Roman and Patton thought...

Patton felt as though Logan found him annoying. The nerd seemed to ignore him or he just had an annoyed expression etched out on his face. Patton always tried to make him feel loved and cared for, and only wanted to express his friendship! Maybe he shouldn't be so bubbly and friendly all the time...?

Roman felt as if he was too... him for Logan. Said man usually rolled his eyes whenever the prince-like man would sing his sentences out, enthusically commenting on the weather, or something like that. Honestly, Roman could be who he is. If who he is is a man who is so extra he could become chewing gum (extra?? the chewing gum???...yeh, that metaphor was wEiRd- hi, future kat here.... pls ignore this =_=) and is just... loud, then too bad for Logan, he wasn't changing.

Virgil felt like Logan just hated him. He was probably too edgy and too emo. The smart guy probably thought he was too anxious for his own well-being and needed to stop, and maybe he just found him too annoying because he was in his way. Then again, Virgil thought that everyone feels that way about him.

One Wednesday morning, Logan received a notification, which is quite rare for him. He usually only got notifications from the news or something.

He was currently solving questions in his favourite problem solving book, 'The Ultimate Trivial Pursuit', smothered in his favourite unicorn onesie, with a coffee sitting out in front of him, slowly cooling down. He rested the book on the table and picked up his phone, opening it up to display one of his best friend- Patton -'s name, along with some tumblr notifications which he just swiped away. He read the text with slightly intrigued eyes following the words displayed before him.

Hey Lo! Sorry to bother

you, but I was just wondering

whether you would like to

join me, Ro, and Virge at

Sanders' Cafe at 12pm?

You don't have to of course,

just wondering! xx

Hmm... did he want to go? Who was he kidding, of course he wanted to go! He loved his friends with all his heart! And yes, he had a heart.

Salutations, Patton. You are

not bothering me. I would

appreciate the oppertunity,

thank you.

What Logan didn't know was that that single message caused an excited squeal to errupt from his beloved friend's mouth upon seeing it.

Three beady eyes had been eagerly watching the three dots slowly bouncing up and down, anticipating for a response. They all felt as though they needed to hang out with Logan more, it felt like he was growing apart from them. Leaving the nest.

Logan had started to get ready as soon as he'd replied, leaving his favourite book and coffee to go cold. His friends were more valuable.

Quickly slipping into his black polo and blue jeans and messily tying his tie around his neck, he was stumbling around the room, way more excited to see his friends than an ordinary person would be. He picked up his comb and brushed his bird nest of hair... how it got this tangled, he didn't know the answer to (which is quite rare). Then, he cleaned his teeth for 2 minutes because body maintenance is important.

Meanwhile, the other three were slightly nervous (even though it is just their friend). What if he was bored or didn't actually want to be there. Roman was the least worried; he didn't really care about what Logan was thinking. Patton just wanted Logan to have a fun time, and Virgil was just his anxious self. What if he was just going because he felt he had to?

Logan was already rushing out of the door and almost tripped down the three steps at his porch... oops. That was just enough to remind him that there are probably people watching... so he just carried on being as fast as he could because why should he have to wait any longer? He tugged at the car door, only to remember that he left his car keys on his bedside table when the door refused to open... dammit!

Sprinting back into his two-story house and up the staircase, he snatched up his keys and went back out to lock the front door (which he'd stupidly forgotten to do the first time). He, more orderly than last time, got into the car and started it.

To check that there where no cars coming, he looked out the window to find a little boy sitting on his bike, wide-eyed. Oh... so there was someone watching...

The embarrassed man just gave him a small smile, just to assure the boy that he was fine. Logan was well known for his stoic manner and teacher-like personality in his neighbourhood, so this must have been pretty weird for the boy... oh well. He can't go back now (both of them can't).

The boy's eyes followed Logan as the car rolled down his driveway. This was awkward. Once the man was sure there were no cars coming to stop him from seeing his friends, Logan pulled out onto the road and sped off towards the cafe the 4 friends where supposed to meet at. Wait... what if they were pranking him? What if they weren't going to come at all? No. Patton wouldn't do that. Neither would Virgil. Roman? maybe, but not Patton nor Virgil.

With anxiety in his eyes, Logan stepped out of the vehicle once he'd parked it and walked, normal pace, into the cafe. His glasses-shielded eyes darted around the room, looking for 3 familiar heads... Bingo! Phew, they weren't pranking him. A tiny smile (you could hardly even see it) made it's may onto Logan's face, all anxiety washed away. He was going to see his 3 favourite people! Those people's heads turned his way when he made it to the table they were sitting at.

Patton's eyes widened upon seeing the necktie-wearing man, despite expecting him. "Hey Lo! I'm so happy you came!", he excitedly greeted, genuinely meaning what he said. The bubbly one hasn't seen the other in over 2 weeks, and that's a long time for him!

Still with a smile that was unnoticable, the formal one slipped into the booth beside Virgil and nodded, "Salutations, I appreciate being able to see you too". He looked around, secretly happy to be with these people again.

Virgil was on his phone, but he'd nodded at Logan because he doesn't want to be rude and be hated even more. Also, speaking wasn't his strong point.

Roman waved, "Greetings, pocket watch! How have you been doing? We haven't seen you in so long". There was slight sarcasm in his tone, obviously a little annoyed that Logan didn't spend more time with them but it wasn't really his fault, they'd need to invite him first. 'Pocket watch' ignored the nickname and the tone, he was used to this sort of thing from the flamboyant man. "Adequate, thank you. What about you? Have you all been doing well?", he looked around the table.

The usual answers came: A grunt from the emo, a "Great!" from the bubbly man, and a "Very well" from the actor.

Logan let his lips twitch upwards to show he cares at least a bit.

"Well, shall we order our drinks? Or are we going to just sit here in awkward silence?", Roman suggested, chuckling a bit after the end of that sentence.

Patton stood up, quite quickly may I add, "Oh yeah! I'll pay for it all; my treat!", he giggled. Everyone reluctantly agreed, knowing there was no point arguing as the dad figure would always win.

Three of them stood up, Virgil staying behind because he doesn't like doing things in groups, he'd go after they'd figured out what they wanted. The emo noticed that Logan's phone had fallen out of his pocket as he'd gotten up, so he picked it up and set it on the table for the teacher-like man to pick up once he comes back. The phone's screen lit up upon contact, revealing several notifications from tumblr. Huh... Logan has tumblr? 'Didn't expect that', Virgil thought. Maybe he'll follow him, his posts must be interesting - seeing as he's very intellectual and smart. He checked the username: '@logical-crofters'. 'Man... he's really obsessed with that jam, isn't he?', Virgil snorted. The darkly-dressed man opened up his own phone and quickly followed him, before the others called him over to choose what he wanted.

Slipping his phone into his pocket and leaving Logan's on the seat, he rushed over to the others to pick a hot chocolate. He'll read his posts later.

Once everything was ordered and everyone was sat down, Logan noticed his phone, causing a confused expression to make its way onto his face. Virgil noticed this, "It fell out your pocket", he simply stated. A nod came from Logan, letting him know he understood.

About 5 minutes later, everyones drinks got delivered to their table. Patton sighed, relaxed, as he smelled the lovely scent of his sweet hot chocolate, which had whipped cream and marshmallows mounted on top of it. Mmmmmm...

Roman happily sipped on his iced tea; it was so refreshing!

While Logan drank his black coffee, Virgil quietly tried to start up conversation, which was a rare sight to see. "So... Logan, I didn't know you had tumblr", this caused the addressed man to almost spit his mouthful of coffee all over Patton, but luckily he's not that careless.

He looked over to the man who'd spoken, "You saw that?". The anxiety that had gone away a while ago had come back, making him fear what the other thought.

"Yeah. When I picked up your phone, I saw the notifications. I haven't read any of your posts yet but I've followed you", he stated, letting him know the details.

Logan let out a squeak that sounded like an 'oh'. 'Please don't read them, please don't- What if he reads them? What if he shows the others? What will they think of me?!'

"Hey, is everything okay?" Patton layed his hand on the almost-panicking man's forearm, bringing him out of his over-working mind. Logan's eyes had been dialating, telling the others that something wrong was obviously going on.

Logan's eyes finally went still, focusing onto the man who was currently comforting him. "Yes, yes. I am fine. Just, Virgil-", he looked at the man he'd addressed, "please do not read my posts..."

Virgil wore a look of confusion. 'Why wouldn't he want me to see them?', he queried.

"Why?", Roman, who'd been quiet this whole time, spoke Virgil's thoughts.

What was he supposed to say? Logan didn't want to let them know why, or his secret would be out! "Just...", he sighed, causing the other three to raise their eyebrows, even Patton. The necktie-wearing man was bright pink, wondering whether he should let the others know what he'd been hiding.

Too late. Virgil was already getting his phone out and clicking on '@logical-crofters' on tumblr. The owner of that account hadn't noticed until a small gasp came from beside him, causing everyone else at the table to whip their heads towards the sound. 'Great', Logan gave up. Virgil knew... he'd definietly tell the others.

Virgil's thumb wouldn't stop scrolling. These posts... they were so sweet! Oh my goodness, Logan, you are so adorable!

Some of the posts read:

"My three best friends: Virgil, Roman and Patton, are the best people in the whole galaxy. I'll bet on it. Virgil is so considerate of other people and is an interesting person over all, he is also fascinated by space, as am I. Patton is, though I don't like to admit it, very funny and adorable... in a friend way. He cares about others so much and does his best to make everyone feel alright. Roman is very creative and a great guy to be around. He is so dramatic, but in a fun way. He tries to agrue with me, which is funny because we all know that I'll win, but he tries his best."

"Patton is so loving and it warms my heart :')"

"I had a long talk with Virgil today and I have found out that he is interested in space!"

"Roman was great at performing as 'Evan Hansen' from 'Dear Evan Hansen' today. The musical was so moving."

Patton and Roman had scrambled their way under the table between them and Virgil to look at his phone with wide eyes, excited to know what Logan was holding from them. Their beady eyes watched the emo's thumb slowly scroll through the posts, reading the compliments and sweet messages talking about them so passionately.

Meanwhile, Logan groaned and stuffed his face into his arms, not before taking his glasses off because... we wouldn't want smashed glasses now, would we?

About 3 minutes had gone by and Logan was contemplating whether he should just leave because this was just way too embarrassing. Suddenly, a pair of arms were thrown around him and squeal sounded, way too close to his ear. Ouch. "Oh my gosh, Logan! I didn't know you felt this way about us, I thought you didn't like us or something but this just proves me wrong!", what it sounded like to be Patton practically shouted into the embarrassed one's ear.

"So you did like the performance! I knew it!", Roman exclaimed. Logan could just see the dramatic pose that man was doing.

There was silence from the darkly-dressed man, which caused Logan to slowly lift his head up, put his glasses back on, and look around. His eyes landed on the silent one. Were... were those tears?

"I- no one's ever said anything like that about me. So... nice", he finally spoke, eyes watering from joy and happiness. He looked up at Logan, a smile creeping up onto his lips. "Thank you, Lo"

This definitely wasn't the reaction he was expecting. "Uh- I... I was just speaking my thoughts. You all mean a lot to me... I know it doesn't show but... it's true", Logan was so suprised he could hardly even speaking in an orderly manner!

All three beloved friends shared a look, one that Logan didn't understand. Oh no...

They all looked back at him..."No thank you. Please-" He was cut short because there were 3 pairs of arms squeezing the usually serious one so hard he was sure that his eyes would pop out, and that's pretty hard to do. "Guys, I can't... breathe...", Logan was pleading now.

They all let go after one more squeeze from Patton, allowing Logan to breathe once more. The dad giggled, "You're so amazing, Lo".

To this, Logan adjusted his glasses and regretfully said, "I believe the correct phrase for this is: 'no you'".

Virgil snorted and Roman burst out laughing. Patton just couldn't resist another hug and Logan was fully smiling. This was very unexpected, but he loved it. They all knew how much he loved them. No more awkward conversing. No more secret emotion...

--------

originally written on wattpad

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madamsixx · 4 years

Text

Beyond The Leather Chapter 29: Worst Man At The Wedding

A little smut

Since I went over to Nikki's place that night when he broke down and started crying I haven't spoken to him. I didn't know what to say to him when he asked to be my boyfriend. There was a mixture of feelings there. I really like Nikki but the only things that are stopping me is the drugs, my family, and Tamara. They will never allow me to have anything to do with Nikki.

On another note today is Tommy and Heather's wedding. Jess is coming with me. I had to tell her to lie to Tamara and say were going out together. There was no way I could tell her about the wedding she would flip. But Jess said she would only do it if she could come. So I was all for it. I wrapped my present up and we headed out. The wedding was being held in a courtyard in Santa Barbara. Tommy looked handsome in his white leather Tuxedo and Heather looked absolutely beautiful with her white strapless dress. There were about five hundred guests here. We took our seats and the wedding began.

Nikki was standing at the altar and he didn't look good. In fact he looked like a mess. I felt sorry for him he wasn't the same Nikki I met back in 1984. He was changing and it was for the worst. He was completely emaciated, he kept getting up to go to the bathroom and then would come back and start nodding off during the ceremony. He was suppose to be Tommy's best man but instead he was the worst man.

After the wedding the reception began. I got up to greet Tommy and Heather. I introduced Jess to them and made sure to give Tommy a death stare so that he wouldn't reveal any of my past discrepancies to her. I also introduced her to Vince and Mick. She asked how I knew them and I had to just say through Heather. Me and Jess sat at a table eating cake and talking.

"That guy can't keep his eyes off you." She nodded her head. I looked up and saw Nikki sitting at a table in front of me with Nicole. Both of them looked like they were trying to keep there eyes open, but Nikki looked worse off than she did.

"He looks familiar, like I've seen him some where before." She furrowed her brows.

"Mmm no we haven't." I quickly respond.

"Wasn't he in London...remember when we were in the elevator and that guy came in and said you looked like a hall cunt or slut." She points out.

Ugh why does she have good memory.

"Um no I don't remember." I shook my head.

Nikki all of a sudden was trying to stand up. He used the table as support to stand up and slowly started making his way towards me. He was stumbling and wobbling and started holding the chairs as support. I was praying he would just walk passed or fall down. He stood in front of our table and leaned over and smiled.

"Hi can we help you?" Jess asked him.

"I was wondering if I could have a dance with Iman?" Nikki asked.

Jess put her arm around me like she was protecting me from Nikki. "Um I don't think that's a good idea. She said with a worried voice.

Nikki sighed and looked at me hurt. "It's just one dance." He says sadly.

I got up and Jess grabbed my arm. "Its ok Jess I'm fine." I mumbled. I walked around and walked towards Nikki. He turned to me and intertwined his hand in mine and we walked to the dance floor. I noticed that he was sweating constantly and his skin was pure yellow. He looked like he was about to pass out any minute.

"You look breathtaking princess." He said taking my arms and wrapping them around his neck. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close to him. He tightly held on to me like I was going to run away.

"Thank you. I spoke softly. "You don't look good Nikki."

"I'm fine." He tensed up.

I rolled my eyes. "Are you? Really Nikki? Cause you look like death. I watched you nod off during the ceremony and excuse yourself multiple times. Was that so you can go to the washroom and shoot up?" I said bitterly.

"I don't wanna talk about it. So drop it." I heard the agitation in his voice.

"Is your girlfriend shooting up too?" I raised my brows.

"Mani stop." He growled.

"No I won't! What is it that your shooting up Nikki? Why are you doing this to your self?"

"Mani shut the fuck up!" He raised his voice and pushed me.

"Hey ass hole don't put your hands on her!" Jess yelled running over to me.

People were staring at me and Nikki on the dance floor. I shook my head and walked away from him.

"Mani!" He called out to me.

I started walking to the parking lot I wanted to just leave and get as far away from him as possible.

"Um excuse me Miss." A gentlemen called to Jess making her stop walking and turn around to speak with him.

I kept walking to the car knowing that she would just meet me here. Nikki came stumbling behind me and pulled my arm for me to face him.

"Iman please I'm sorry." He pleaded.

"You need help Nikki your drugged out at your best friends wedding. Your suppose to be the best man and you let Tommy down!" I raised my voice. I tried to turn away from him but he wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me close to him. I looked into his eyes and could tell that he was on the verge of bursting into tears.

"Iman please let's just talk about us. I don't want to loose you or having a chance to be with you. I know I need help but it's hard." He starts tearing up.

"Stop making excuses." I said with a stern voice and pushing his hands off of me. "Your a grown man and have the power to do anything you want to. Did you not create the band Motley Crue?" I turned and leaned against Jess's car shaking my head. "Your only going to kill yourself Nikki."

Jess came running over to her car. "Hey let's get going." I walked over to the passengers side of the car with Nikki following behind me. "Princess." He called grabbing arm. He cupped my cheeks in his hand and leaned towards my face. "I'll kick this if means I still have a chance with you." He leans in and gives me a long needy kiss on my lips. I pulled away and turn my head away from him and get into the car and we drive away.

We sit in the car in silence neither of us wanting to say anything about what just happened. Jess now knew my secret which was Nikki and the rest of the Motley boys.

"You know it will never happen between you and Nikki." She raises her bows.

I didn't say anything. I just looked out the window wishing I could go back to Canada. Things were now getting complicated and I don't know how it even gotten to this point.

"Here." She pulls a paper out of her pocket and hands it to me. "You know the guy who called me over. He's Motley Crue's tour manager Rich Fisher. He says he would like you to call a man named Doc Mcghee."

I opened the paper up and saw a number on it. I remember meeting him back stage at the theater of pain tour. What did he want to talk to me about?

"I think you should call him. According to him Nikki told him that he has been doing heroin."

"Heroin!" My eyes went wide and I was shocked. Heroin isn't something that you can just shake off easily. I didn't think he would go that far. "Yeah...yeah I'll call him later on."

"Iman." She called out to me.

"Yes."

"Nikki is bad news so I think you should stay away from him." She warned.

When I got back to the house. Jess and Tamara immediately started talking about the pretend places that we went to and business. I walked into the room and collapsed on my bed without even taking any of my things off. I sat back up and opened up the peice of paper that she gave me. I picked up the phone in my room and dialed the number.

"Hello Doc Mcghee speaking."

"H...hi this is Iman Darlington. Your tour manager said I should call you regarding Nikki?"

"Yes im glad you called. Were going to have an intervention for him and I would like you to be there. I know Nikki is fond of you and I'm sure you want the same thing for him to get off of drugs."

Today Doc, Doug, I and a guy named Bob Timmons who is a counselor for addicts were heading over to Nikki's place for an intervention. I asked a lot of questions because I have never done an intervention before. I was also nervous about going too, because I didn't know how Nikki would feel with us ambushing him. He's a hot head and he gets aggressive when ever things don't go his way. Plus he's the type of guy that likes control.

"Just tell me the day and I will be there."

____

We pulled up to the gates by his home. And I must say the house is very nice. The last time I came here it was night time so I couldn't really see anything. Doc pressed the buzzer and we waited for Nikki to respond.

"Hello!"

"Hey Sixx its Doc open up."

"What the fuck do you want?"

I almost laughed when he said that.

"Open the gate Sixx!" He yelled.

Nikki opened the gate and we drove in. Doc and Doug got out of the car and headed up Nikki's steps. As I was about to open my door Bob stopped me. "Uh wait Iman, your not going to come out. I need you to wait in here ok."

"Oh I thought I was going to be apart of it?" I asked with confusion.

"You are, your going to play a big part." He smiled. He then opened the door, got out, and headed in.

I sat in the car for about 3 hours. I thought to my self that this is complete BS. I was on a break from working and instead of me laying by the pool side, eating ice cream, hanging out with friends, and doing the best thing ever which is shopping. I'm sitting in the back seat of Motley Crues managers car waiting for Nikki Sixx to come out and get checked into rehab. What the hell!

I heard the door open and saw Doug come out and walk towards the car. He opened the door and told me to come out. I got out of the car and he looked completely stressed out.

He sighed, "alright Iman he's all yours."

"Uuum ok. Am I suppose to do something?" I questioned.

"Your going to do what you do best with him." He walked ahead of me and I followed behind him. Not sure of what I was getting into. I stood by the door and listened to Nikki swearing and yelling. His usual word which was "fuck off" or "fuck you" was all I could hear him say.

Doug finally opened the door and let me walk in. The place was trashed and Nikki was throwing things around. Nicole was sitting on the couch high as a kite clearly, Bob was standing up trying to clam Nikki down, and Doc was yelling back at Nikki.

"I'm not fucking going! Fuck you get the fuck outta my house now!" Nikki shouted.

"Nikki we can help you ok you just need to calm down please." Bob spoke calmly.

"Nikki your going and you don't have a choice! So stop acting like a child throwing a tantrum!" Doc yelled.

Nikki then turned to charge at Doc but saw me by the door looking shocked and scared. His eyes started to soften and he started sniffling and his breathing started to hitch. I slowly walked towards him and put my hand on his cheek and started to caress it.

"Look Nikki I've been where you are and you need help. We didn't mean to do this to you but your a drug addict and we need to get this under control. You and Nicole." Bob spoke up.

"You need to calm down ok." I spoke calmly. He burst into tears and fell on his knees and wrapped his arms around me shoving his face on my stomatch. I wrapped my arms around his head and kissed the top of his head several times to let him know I'm here for him.

______

Nikki kept his red eyes on me and held onto my hands. "Nikki." I called him. "You need this." I spoke with a stern voice.

"I don't....I don't want to loose you." He started to sob.

"If you don't go, you will loose me. For good Nikki. I won't be with a drug addict." I warned him. He nodded his head in agreement, "ok I'll go." He said with a shakey voice.

I looked over at Nicole hoping that she would go to. "What about you?" I asked her. She looked up at me and nodded her head on agreement as well.

"Alright start packing some bags." Bob got up and walked with Doug and Doc over to the side. Nicole got up and headed to the room to start packing.

"Will you be waiting for me when I get out?" Nikki mumbled.

"I will, and I'll also be so proud of you." I smiled while brushing his hair.

3 days later....

Since Nikki went to rehab I gave Bob my number to call me if he needed anything and I took his. Of course I told him he had to call me at certain times cause of Tamara. I got a brochure from the rehab center and I wanted to take it to Lisa in hope's that she would consider going. But every time I called or went over to her place her parents would tell me she wasn't there. I figured it's because she just didn't want to see me.

I went shopping today with Rachel which is usually a cure for me when I'm stressed. We decided to head back to my place and just have a girls night. Tamara of course loved the idea when I told her that. She loved Rachel and me hanging together. We were driven back to the condo and started taking our stuff out of the limo.

"So crazy people live in your condo?" She laughed.

"What do you mean?" I turned to face her.

"Look at that guy in his hospital gowned his ass is sticking out and he's holding onto a guitar." She chuckled.

I looked closer and saw that it was Nikki. My eyes nearly popped out of my head. He's suppose to be in rehab! What the fuck! I started sweating not just on my face but my armpits and everywhere else. Oh God why do these things always happen when Rachel is around? It's like my life is just heading into a downward spiral. I didn't want to have to deny knowing Nikki again, I realized how bad it affected him and how much pain it caused him. I had to somehow get rid of her. Cause I know Nikki sure as hell was not going anywhere.

"Oh my God I need to take a picture of that." She pulled out her Polaroid camera and pointed it in his direction. This might end a good friendship but it has to be done. I slapped her camera on the ground and it smashed hitting the floor.

"What the fuck Iman!" She yelled. "What the fuck is your problem!?"

"Sorry it was an accident." I pleaded.

"God that camera was expensive." She argued.

"I'll get you a new one." I argued back. "Um look I have a couple things that I have to do so we need to cancel today."

"What!" She screamed. "I thought we were going to have a girls night?"

I groaned, "I know I'm sorry but I have to cancel."

She rolled her eyes and got back into the limo cursing under her breath. I waited for the limo to drive away and then speed walked with my bags in hand ready to beat the crap out of Nikki with them.

"Why are you not in rehab Nikki!" I yelled.

"Becasue I don't wanna be. Fuck that place I'm not going back!" He shouted.

I was about to shout at him again when I noticed some of the Tennant's in the building were walking in and out watching me and Nikki. I shoved some bags in Nikki's hand and told him to follow me upstairs. I slammed the door shut and was ready to give Nikki a piece of my mind.

"Nikki you promised you would do this." I grumbled.

"I know and I wanted to, but they were trying to brainwash me with God and all that shit." He argued.

I clenched my jaw and started walking towards Nikki ready to punch him. But I stopped when the phone rang. I walked towards the phone and answered it.

"Hello!" I said with an agitated voice. It was Bob Timmons he was calling to let me know that Nikki had escaped and he was looking for him. I told Bob he was here and gave him my adress so he could come and pick Nikki up. I hung up the phone and looked over at Nikki. He sat on the couch with his hospital gown on, legs crossed on the table, guitar on the couch and remote in hand. He was truly adorable I couldn't lie.

"Are you hungry?"

He turned to me and smiled, "very."

I walked to the kitchen to look for something to make him. I wanted something that was easy and quick cause who knows how long he went with out food. I grabbed a package of noodles and decided to make it with red peppers. It wouldn't take long to make. And that would keep him busy till Bob got here.

As I was cutting the red peppers I felt his arms snake around my waist. I felt his breathing on the back of my neck and his lips start to slowly lick and kiss it as well. I started to breath faster when his fingers moved slowly moved up my thighs and went underneath my dress. I felt goosebumps all over my body and I dropped the knife and raised one arm over my head to wrap it around his neck to brush his hair. His hands moved up my stomatch to my breasts where he lightly rubbed on my nipples. He winced as I gipped his hair in response to his touch. I turned my head to the side to face him as he turned his down to look at me.

He wasted no time in pressing his lips against mine. It was a delicate kiss. He pulled away to look at me and then kissed me again but deeply. His hand moved from my nipples all the way down to my panties. He pulled away again to pull down my panties. I turned around to face him I could feel the wetness between my legs and started feeling extremely tight down there as well. He picked me up and sat me down on the counter. He pulled off his hospital gowned leaving him completely naked. His cock was as hard as stone. He pulled my waist forward a bit and took his cock in his hand.

"Nikki don't." I breathlessly say putting my hand on his chest.

"I won't princess." He whispered to me. "I just want you to have a taste." He put the tip of his cock against my pussy hole and slowly moved it around in circles. He started groaning and gripping my hair tight like he wanted to shove it right inside of me. But he knew he had to control himself. "Look how wet you are princess. Your pussy wants me." He growled in my ear.

It was driving me mad what he was doing. My breath was hitched, my body was sweating, and my pussy definitely needed Nikki to fuck it. He pulled his cock away and crouched down so his face was between my legs. "Now it's my turn to have a taste." He cooed. He licked his lips and started kissing my inner thigh.

Ring Ring

The phone started ringing and I came back to my senses. I kicked Nikki, hopped off the counter, and ran to the phone. I answered it feeling flushed and hot. I put the phone down and walked back to Nikki who was leaning on the counter scowling at me. Did I forget to mention that he was still naked. God he's hot.

"Bob's coming up, he's going to take you home." I said out of breath.

"Oh why?" He groaned

"Because you still need to get cleaned Nikki." I walked towards him and picked up his gown and handed it to him.

"Are you angry with me?" He asks taking the gown from me and putting it on.

"No." I assured him. A knock came at the door and I walked over to open it up. "Hi Bob." I smiled at him.

"Iman nice to see you." He walked and looked at Nikki. "Mr. Sixx we have a lot to talk about and have a lot to do ok."

"I'm not going back there Bob." He huffed and crossed his arms.

"Ok how about at least we get you home and we talk. We'll work something out ok." He calmly speaks.

Nikki nodded in agreement. And walked towards the couch to grab his guitar.

"We'll call you when we get back to his place ok." Bob says as he pats my arm. "Nik I'll be in the hall way." And walks out the door.

I turn to Nikki and he walks over to me. He has a big smile plastered over his face. "Are you going to come over when I'm sober?" He asked.

"Of course I will." I say wrapping my arms around his neck.

"So that means I get to keep these." He lifts up my panties. "Until your ready to get them back."

My eyes went wide, "Nikki Sixx give me those now!" I yell trying to grab them from him. He runs out into the hall way and I chase after him yelling for him to give me my panties. Bob is holding onto the elevator door shaking his head while waiting for Nikki.

"Nikki I-" I'm cut off with Nikki pressing his lips to mine. I wrap my arms around his neck and he warps his around my waist. He picks me up so my feet are dangling off the ground. And he deepens the kiss. He pulls away and his expression on his face changes.

"Are you still mine?" He whispers.

"Always." I reply.

He puts me down and gives me another peck on the lips. He walks into the elevator and smiles at me. We both watch as it closes separating us for the time being.

#motley creu #nikki sixx #tommy lee #vince neil #mick mars #thedirt #model #chanel iman #bwwm wmbw

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shawnpetermuffins · 5 years

Text

How's It Feel (CG pt 2 again)

A/n: I'm reuploading this because something when wrong when I did it the first time.

Summary: Shawn's starting to feel how you did for way too long and he's realizing he can't cope with the pain.

Requested: yes, by so many of you for god knows what reason

***

The hole in my chest had only grown since y/n walked out of our apartment. I tried texting her, calling her. I tried everything until eventually my messages didn't go through anymore. My calls went straight to voicemail. All of her stuff was gone when I got back from the studio one day too, and if it was even possible, my heart broke all over again seeing that.

And as if not being with her wasn't already messing with my head, having to tell my family was even worse. Mum was pissed, didn't talk to me for three days, Aaliyah over a week. (I’ll be honest, she probably still wouldn’t be talking to me had I not broke down in front of Mum when I went to go work things out with them.) It was torture not being able to talk to two of the most important women in my life, about the other other single most important girl in my life. One who no longer wanted me.

I knew I fucked up, there was no denying that. But I never intended to hurt her the way I did. I took her love for granted, I know that now, but knowing that just makes it hurt worse.

So I spent almost every night following our no-so mutual breakup at the bar, drinking the strongest liquor I could get my hands on because beer just wasn't going to cut it. If I was going to drown in anything, I'd rather it be in alcohol than in my own self pity. And it worked… until I met her.

---

Jordan's presence slammed into my like a ton of bricks. She was everything that the media thought I should be with. Long, flowy blonde hair. Legs for days. That "natural glow" that very obviously was just a dewy foundation - something y/n never wore because she thought it made her look more oily than dewy. By all means, she is who I wanted. Or more accurately, she is who I wanted to want.

Jordan was probably the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen. There's not a doubt in my mind. But she wasn't y/n. She didn't stay the night. She hardly ever called, not unless I had promo events or award shows. So I guess lucky for me, it was award season. But these were the only times I'd see her. Only times I'd talk to her. Not that I didn't want to. I did, and I tried. But my messages would go read and unanswered. She never wanted to hang out with me and my friends, and on the ever-so rare occasion that she did accept my offer, it always ended with a quick fuck and she was out the door. There were no cuddles, there was no snuggling. I didn't get to wake up to make her breakfast like I used to do for y/n before I let things go so wrong.

I wonder if this is what y/n felt when I was out the door before she ever got the chance to open her eyes. I wonder if she felt this every morning for the last eight months of our relationship. That's how long it was, I realized when it was much too late. I blew off plans, and I didn't come home, and I didn't talk to her for eight months. But I still expected her to do things for me. Go to my awards shows even when I know she told me she had things she needed to do for work. I called her unsupportive more times than I can count and I unintentionally, but somehow knowingly let her slip through my fingers.

---

Come over???

Jordan read the text three hours ago and still hasn't bothered to respond. Not that I was expecting her to anymore. Unless I ask her to come to an award show with me, I won't get a response for days.

So I'm here, logged into Brian's Instagram looking through y/n's most recent posts because she blocked me on literally everything, not that I can blame her. She knew me well enough to know that after the way we ended things I would want to check up on her. Even though I didn't do it enough while I had her.

Kinda_yourname

7,421 likes

Kinda_yourname Carnival nights call for impromptu photo shoots

📸: @connorbrashier

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I throw my phone onto the coffee table, suddenly sick to my stomach.

Connor. She still talks to him. They still hang out. I knew they had gotten close on the SM3 tour but I'd never realized that they were still close. It shouldn't bother me - she's, in fact, not mine anymore no matter how much I wish she were - But it does. It bothers me so much. Because who is he to be taking pictures like this of the girl I used to call my own? How is someone I considered a friend going to betray me this way?

I want so badly to throw something, to scream, and punch and kick like a dramatic child who's just been told he can't go play outside with his friends because it's far too hot. Other than the fact that my phone is no longer in my hands, and that my fingers are pressed firmly into the denim encompassing my legs, anyone watching me wouldn't be able to tell that I was in such serious turmoil.

I want to go back to feeling something. Even if it is just contempt for myself and the way I let things get so out of hand. But something inside me won't let it happen. I've become nothing but a hollow shell of what I used to be. I feel nothing. I want for nothing. I do nothing. It’s been hell on my music, too. Selfishly, I thought that being heartbroken would help me write another album, but now I have no inspiration. My muse is gone.

---

I'm sitting in the dining room with my mum who seems to be a little on edge while I'm talking to her. She keeps looking toward the door when she thinks I'm not looking, but I can't bring myself to ask why she's acting so weird. I should have.

"Where's Liyah?" I asked.

"Getting ready. She's going out with a friend."

I nodded, "Who?"

Mum shook her head and dismissed the question with wave of her hand, "You don't know her."

Ouch.

"Now, uh, what's going on?" She clasped her hands together.

I furrowed my brows, but shrugged off the uneasiness radiating through her body language. "I uh… I messed up."

"What do you mean?"

"With y/n."

She sighed, "Shawn. It's been three months."

"Yeah. And I haven't been able to write a song since we broke up."

"I thought you said you were dating that new girl."

"Jordan," I mumbled.

"Yes, her."

"It's complicated." I took in a deep breath, "Every time I try to make an effort, it's never reciprocated. She never texts me back, or calls me. She only ever wants to get together when I tell her I have an award show to go to or like I'm doing press. And I don't get that same feeling that I used to get when y/n would look at me. I don't love her, mum. Hell, I don't even know if I really like her or if I'm forcing myself to because I'm trying to compensate for what I don't have with y/n anymore."

Mum didn't say anything, but the look in her eyes told me everything.

"What?"

"It's nothing."

"It's something. What? What are you thinking?"

"Now, honey you know I love you. And I will support you through anything." She took my hands in hers from across the table. "But it sounds to me like you're getting a taste of your own medicine."

"Excuse me?"

"Don't get upset, Shawn. But that's exactly what you did with y/n. She texted and she called and you only wanted her when you needed someone next to you. You didn't treat her like your girlfriend. Not even a little bit. She was 'arm candy.' And that, it pains me to say, is what you are to this Jordan girl."

I run my hands through my hair, frustrated. "I don't want Jordan anymore. And it's clear she doesn't want me. I have to end things with her."

"If that's what you want, then I support you."

"I want y/n, mum… What do I do?"

"There's nothing you can do... Y/n isn't going to take you back."

"You don't know that," I said desperately, even though I knew she was right."

“Sweetheart, you know I love y/n. We all do. And you also know that I wouldn’t be telling you this if I thought that she would take you back. But Shawn… you hurt her. No, that’s not right. You broke her. That whole last year of your relationship shattered her into a million pieces. She’s trying just as hard as you - if not harder - to pick herself back up after this.”

“She’s hanging out with Connor. Did you know that?”

“And what does that matter? You’re with someone else.”

“It’s Connor! He and I are friends!”

“Shawn -”

"Karen! I hope you don't mind. I used my key, is Aaliyah -"

I stilled at the sound of the voice of both my dreams and nightmares. A voice I never thought I'd hear again. I slowly turned around and was met with her frighteningly pale skin, she looked like she'd seen a ghost, and I knew I probably looked the same.

"Hi," I said like an idiot after a minute of full on staring at her, taking in every single thing I could.

She didn't say it back, just shook her head and averted her eyes and cleared her throat. "Karen, is Aaliyah ready?"

"I'm ready!" My little sister beamed, entering the now overly tense dining room. “Oh... Hey, Shawn.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, only to y/n.

“Liyah, you got your stuff?”

She nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.” She crossed the room and pressed a kiss to Mum’s cheek. “I’ll be back later.”

“Is it cool if I take her out to dinner?” y/n asked, still not looking at me. "There were a lot of people at the mall when I passed by, we might be longer than expected.

“What the hell is going on?” I exclaimed, and I knew eyes were on me now, but not the eyes I so desperately wanted to be on me. "Did you know she was coming over?" I asked my mom.

She didn't answer me and that was response enough. “That’s fine, honey. But come back for dessert, okay? Manny and I were thinking sundaes with all the fixings.”

“You know the way to my heart, Karen. We’ll be back by eight.”

Aaliyah was now standing next to my ex-girlfriend once again and my heart ached watching them. They started walking toward the door, and I was going to leave it alone. Let them walk out the house without a problem, but my body reacted before my mind could catch up. “Y/n, wait.” When she didn’t turn around, I took her wrist. “Baby, please. Can we talk?”

“Let go of me, Shawn,” her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Not until you look at me,” I said, desperation lacing between every word.

She sighed and fished her keys out of her pocket, “Hon, can you wait in the car? I’ll be right there.”

My sister nodded and walked out of the house without so much as a glance my way. And when the door shut behind her, those y/e/c eye finally met mine, breaking me even more because they didn’t hold that light they used to.

"What, Shawn? What could you possibly want?"

I open and close my mouth like a fish gasping for water.

"Well?" She arches an eyebrow at me, making me feel small beneath that stare that I desperately wanted just minutes ago, but now I wish she would look away. Because seeing that hurt and hatred behind her eyes is killing me. "What do you want?" She asked again.

And I broke. "You. Always fucking you!"

She scoffed, "No you don't!" She exclaimed. "You don't want me, you're lonely! I'm not your pet, Shawn! I'm not gonna come at your beck and call. I'm a human being. A human being with real feelings. A human being still trying to fix what you broke," her finger jabbed into my chest. "You don't get to say that you miss me after the way you treated me."

"I know, but-"

"Do you seriously think you can defend yourself here?" Y/n crosses her arms over her chest and it only makes me more upset.

"What makes you think you have any right to defend yourself?"

"Excuse me?!"

"Yeah, you're out there fucking around with one of my close friends, right? What? Are you gonna say he's just a friend? That he's just looking out for your well-being? Because that's definitely not the case."

"WHO?! Which of your 'close friends' am I supposedly fucking around with?"

Hearing her curse that way reminds me that we're in my parent's house and I suddenly feel really bad for causing this scene in front of my mum, but we're already too far gone.

"Oh, don't play dumb!"

"Enlighten me." She won't budge from her spot, but I've paced so much and so quickly that I was starting to leave a path in the carpet.

"With Connor. I saw you were together on your instagram."

"How could you even see that if I blocked you?"

"Are you gonna deny it?"

"Am I not allowed to have friends, Shawn? Because last I checked, you weren't my boyfriend, and you sure as hell weren't my 'keeper.' You don't have any right to tell me who I can and can't hang out with. So what if I'm hanging out with him? We got close on tour." She said with a shrug, "not that it's any of your business, but we are just friends"

“I haven’t written since you left,” I said lowly, suddenly much too tired to continue this screaming match that literally just started. “And I’ve been seeing this girl,” I said and tried to find some type of emotion behind her eyes, but there was nothing.

"Then why the hell should it matter if I'm with Connor? Even as friends?"

I couldn’t answer her yet, so I continued, “She never wants to hang out. She’s only there for awards and stuff. It kind of sucks actually.”

She scoffed, “That’s funny. Because that seemed to be exactly what you were wanting while we were together.”

“That’s not what I wanted, y/n. I just lost sight of what we had, my feelings got confused, and they shouldn’t have. I didn’t mean to hurt you that way.”

“But you did! And now you’re complaining for what? Because she’s not waiting around for you like I was?”

“Honey-”

“No! You don’t get to call me that anymore! You have no right!”

“Okay,” I hold my hands up in defense. “I’m sorry. I just, I don’t know what to say to make this better. I didn’t realize that you felt this way until it happened to me. And it’s the worst feeling. I feel like nothing I do will ever be good enough.” I sigh, “and I’m miserable without you,” I confessed.

"I'm sorry to hear that. But that's not my fault. You made the decisions that you did and you lost me in the process. That was all you."

"I want to go back. Forget that it's over."

"But you can't," she said, finally uncrossing her arms.

"But if we could?"

She shook her head, "even if we could. I'm not willing to forget."

"Will we ever be okay again? Be the way we used to be? Before we started dating."

She sighed and her gaze dropped once again. "As far as I'm concerned," she started. "You and I were strangers before we got together… and we're strangers once again." With a heavy sigh and a quick run of her fingers through her hair, she turned her attention back to the door that my sister walked out of just minutes ago. "I have to go. Your sister's waiting."

Don't go, I think to myself. Let me fix this. Let me try. But of course I don't say this. I watch her fingers curl around knob and my own fingers twitch, just aching to reach for her. But then the door closes with a soft click behind her and I find myself leaning against that same hard wood, tears blurring my vision.

I slide to the floor, my head in my hands, shoulders shaking with my uncontrolled sobs.

I never thought I'd feel this heartbreak. It's even worse the second time, somehow. Maybe because I know now that this is it for us.

Because I was always the master of words, and her of action. But in this moment, there are no words to save me, nor weapons to save her.

We are caught, defenseless, on seperate sides of the door.

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estrxlar · 3 years

Text

The Ghost Of You

08 - Confession

This chapter's songs:

Off and On; SALES

Heaven; Clairo

A Pearl; Mitski

- Y.L. Perspective

"Hey."

The word is distant yet close, making me gasp awake. When my eyes open, I'm in sight of the foggy wet window causing pitter-patter in front of me. 'It rained.' I thought, looking out to the concrete that was soaked. Not that it bothered me; rain was one of the many things that I enjoyed.

Coming back to reality, I notice that the scenery outside is too familiar, and not long after do I realize we're parked right outside of my house, waiting for me to awake. At first, I'm completely tripped out that I had teleported from the skate park to here, but it was just a generous favor from Sugawara.

And suddenly, everything from last night comes to mind.

After Suga had kissed first me, we'd spent more than enough time on each other's faces. But the last thing I remember is sopping down on my seat and falling asleep, worn out, instead of coming up with an excuse of why I made the stupid decision of making out with him. There was not one thing fair about me knocked out in his passenger seat while he reflected on my behalf as well.

But thankfully it appeared Koushi didn't care all that much. Getting me home was one of his priorities this morning.

"What time is it?" I yawn, stretching out my limbs as far as they can go, but that's only to where the seat's leg space ends.

"It's ten AM. But it's a Saturday, so you should probably get some rest today. You went to sleep pretty late last night, and you didn't look very comfortable." He describes, leaning on the door window, staring at the pouring rain. It enlightened me that Suga cares about my rest, but what about him? From what I understand, he stayed up just as long as I did. If not, longer.

So, I decided I should offer something that I was hoping wouldn't make him uncomfortable or jump to conclusions. "Uhm...if you're tired then you can come in too, and we can just stay here for the day until you wanna go home, " I tell him, mirroring his action, and resting both my head and arm on the window.

The invitation seemed to surprise him, for he had quickly whirled his head towards me, asking, "Wait, are you sure? Y-your mom won't be mad that I'm over? Cause– you know..." he trails off, anxiously pressing his palms together, and looking downwards. It came off that he felt almost ashamed that we shared an intimate moment, which wasn't something that he should be responsible for. But even so, I still wanted to spend more time with him. If I'm being completely honest, I wasn't sure if it was because I liked him, or because he was such a refreshing person to be around, but he made me feel better than I had felt in a long time.

"Suga, I'm sure. Look, if you don't wanna hang out that's fine. I was just asking because you seemed tired and said you don't wanna be home right now." My eyes snake from his chest to his eyes, hoping it would give him an understanding that I really wanted him to come inside. "So, do you wanna?"

Sugawara gulps in nervousness, clearing his throat before speaking. "Uh, yeah. Sure. But we better hurry up, or we'll get soaked."

- K. S. Perspective

I wait behind her light brown painted door, running my hands through my damp hair. Small noises of clatter are heard, while I uncomfortably stand outside of her room, waiting for her to open up. To be honest, I wasn't sure about being casually invited into her house after last night. All that ran through my head was, 'did she even like it? Does she feel uncomfortable? What if she wants to go further?

Should I confess right now?'

Finally, her door pops open, revealing her in a change of comfortable clothing and the room behind her. "Uhm, come in," she says, pulling the door wider for me to come in. The room consisted of regular decorations I thought she'd have: anime and music artist posters, a random guitar, a few color-changing lights, and a bean bag chair. "I know it's weird and all. I guess I just haven't gotten the chance to redo my room."

"No, it's—it's fun," I tell her, sticking my hands in my pants pocket. I had to say, it'd been quite a while since I'd been in a girl's room so casually. Not that I was jumping to conclusions, but I was hoping she'd want to discuss things over what had happened. That way I could make it clear to her that I wasn't playing around with her feelings.

She shuffled towards her messy bed, turning towards me, before falling backward onto it. Her loud yawn and stretch echo throughout the room, as well as the low music that she had playing on a home speaker on her dresser. As much as I wanted to feel relaxed, I hardly could. I felt almost scared to stand in her room alone right after we had made out. All I could think of was running my hand against her skin, and rubbing my lips against her hot neck. Now she was casually laying on her bed, looking back at me with absolutely no expression.

"Come, come, " she says, holding out a hand towards me, which makes my anxiety advance to an entirely new level. But following her orders, I hesitantly take it, quickly being pulled to where she laid. The sudden action has me wide-eyed and rested on my side, facing only Y/n. Though I tried hiding my uneasiness, she eventually broke my cover with a simple sentence. "I feel so tired. Don't you?"

I nod, before gulping almost too loudly. However, Y/n keeps her gaze on me, gradually making her eye rests longer. Feeling the dirtiest in the room, I begin to distance myself from her stature, removing the dark paid cover-up that spread over my shoulders, as well as a few accessories I had and tossed them on a small desk at the side of her bed. Then, I took out my phone, deciding it was best to talk to Daichi about everything; I was hoping my friends weren't angry I had ditched them so suddenly.

—

Daichi

How was the party?

Weren't you there?

I left earlier than expected

Around what time?

12:00 AM

That's not that early

Anyways, it was fine I guess

Everyone was being stupid and drunk

I know, good thing I didn't stay so long

Miya said you left with Y/n-?

Yeah, but I just took her out cause she wasn't having a good time

Well, I just took her to some park where we spent the night in my car and I drove her home today

Now we're just napping in her room

I thought you said you wanted to see how things went with her :(

Don't worry we didn't do anything

At least not something extreme

What'd you do??

We just kind of made out for a few minutes

But it wasn't bad or anything

It was nice

Pls don't tell anybody because I'm not sure how to tell her yet

That you're in love with her?? Ahh ok-.-

I'm not in love with her,

Koushi, you told me you've never wanted to want to make somebody feel loved the way you did Y/n.

Well

Whatever

Are you coming to the practice game today?

Oh yeah

What time

In like thirty minutes

Are you serious

But I needed to talk to y/n

I was gonna wait till she woke up

Sorry man

Just leave her a note you'll be back?

Yeah, ok

----

As Daichi had told me to, I decided to find the nearest paper and pen that sat lazily on Y/n's desk. But instead of tossing a few words to excise my absence, I thought of doing something very stupid and risky.

I left a love letter.

At first, I felt as if I was being nothing but a coward for not telling her personally. What would she think if I had just run off and left a confession for her to run through my herself? But after realizing that I could let her think things through, I thought it was the best idea I had that entire year.

And so, I wrote my feelings down quicker than ever imagined, fitting in what I could to convince Y/n of my love for her.

To y/n,

This is one of the most idiotic things I could have done to tell you, but I have a practice game and I can't afford to miss practice right now. As you know, I'm on the edge of having my position taken.

Y/n, after about a week of knowing you I realized that you make me feel like a better person. When I hear your voice or get the benefit of making you smile, it feels like I'm on a high off of you. You're the most beautiful, talented girl have ever met in my life. Without you, I don't think I could have lasted this first week.

I remember the feeling you gave me when we were younger. Even if you didn't talk to me, or didn't acknowledge my existence very much, I still wanted to discover every corner of you. I thought I wouldn't have ever met someone that I was so passionate about like I was for you. And when our first year of high school ended, I felt heartbroken by the fact that I didn't get to tell you how I felt about you. How your essence made my heart warm, how your skin makes me crave touching you, how much space you filled up in my small brain.

When I had seen you on the bus that one morning, I couldn't believe how much you've grown. I know this is personal for you, but you were in a bad state, and it caused me pain to see that you felt alone, and you didn't know how much I cared for you. So when I saw how much you were taking care of yourself, it brought me to hope that I could do the same. If you didn't already know, after my mom had died, I started creating bad habits and ruined my self-portrait. I felt like there was no way out, and that I was useless. But then I met you, again. You brought me to become a better person for myself, Y/n.

I don't want to rush you into anything, but I feel like I should confess to you that I'm in love with you. I've never had the feelings I have for you. Every day I find myself thinking of how lovely you are. And after what had happened last night, I realized, why wait? Why wait to tell you this the way I did in my first year? If I did, then I'm gonna run out of time. I want you more than I've ever wanted anything, Y/n. I think I'm scared that you won't look at me the same, or that you think I'm a burden to you. But at this point, I think I've run out of space to store what I feel for you.

Overall, I love you, Y/n. Please, do me the honor of being with me.

Love, Koushi.

—

I'M SO SORRY FOR SUCH A SHORT CHAPTER YOU GUYS<\3. But I hope you appreciate it. Please comment and note bc it really helps

As always, I love you guys

- estrxlar

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shawnpetermuffins · 5 years

Text

How's It Feel (CG pt 2)

A/n: I really struggled to write this, I'm not gonna lie. It wasn't turning out the way I wanted it at all, but this is what I've got and I still hope you like it.

Summary: Shawn's starting to feel how you did for way too long.

Requested: yes, by a lot of you surprisingly

Word count: 2.8k

***

And as if not being with her wasn't already messing with my head, having to tell my family was even worse. Mum was pissed, didn't talk to me for three days, Aaliyah over a week. (I’ll be honest, she probably still wouldn’t be talking to me had I not broke down in front of Mum when I went to go work things out with them.) It was torture not being able to talk to two of the most important women in my life, about the other single most important girl in my life. One who no longer wanted me.

I knew I fucked up, there was no denying that. But I never intended to hurt her the way I did. I took her love for granted, I know that now, but knowing that just makes it hurt worse.

So I spent almost every night following our not-so mutual breakup at the bar, drinking the strongest liquor I could get my hands on because beer just wasn't going to cut it. If I was going to drown in anything, I'd rather it be in alcohol than in my own self pity. And it worked… until I met her.

---

Come over???

Jordan read the text three hours ago and still hasn't bothered to respond. Not that I was expecting her to anymore. Unless I ask her to come to an award show with me, I won't get a response for days.

Kinda_yourname

7,421 likes

Kinda_yourname Carnival nights call for impromptu photo shoots.

📸: @ connorbrashier

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I throw my phone onto the coffee table, suddenly sick to my stomach.

---

"Where's Liyah?" I asked.

"Getting ready. She's going out with a friend."

I nodded, "Who?"

Mum shook her head and dismissed the question with wave of her hand, "You don't know her."

Ouch.

"Now, uh, what's going on?" She clasped her hands together.

I furrowed my brows, but shrugged off the uneasiness radiating through her body language. "I uh… I messed up."

"What do you mean?"

"With y/n."

She sighed, "Shawn. It's been three months."

"Yeah. And I haven't been able to write a song since we broke up."

"I thought you said you were dating that new girl."

"Jordan," I mumbled.

"Yes, her."

Mum didn't say anything, but the look in her eyes told me everything.

"What?"

"It's nothing."

"It's something. What? What are you thinking?"

"Now, honey you know I love you. And I will support you through anything." She took my hands in hers from across the table. "But it sounds to me like you're getting a taste of your own medicine."

"Excuse me?"

I run my hands through my hair, frustrated. "I don't want Jordan anymore. And it's clear she doesn't want me. I have to end things with her."

"If that's what you want, then I support you."

"I want y/n, mum… What do I do?"

"There's nothing you can do. Y/n isn't going to take you back."

"You don't know that," I said desperately, even though I knew she was right."

“She’s hanging out with Connor. Did you know that?”

“And what does that matter? You’re with someone else.”

“It’s Connor! He and I are friends!”

“Shawn -”

"Karen! I hope you don't mind. I used my key, is Aaliyah -"

I stilled at the sound of the voice of both my dreams and my nightmares. A voice I never thought I'd hear again. I slowly turned around and was met with her frighteningly pale skin, she looked like she'd seen a ghost, and I knew I probably looked the same.

"Hi," I said like an idiot after a minute of full on staring at her, taking in every single thing I could.

She didn't say it back, just shook her head, averted her eyes and cleared her throat. "Karen, is Aaliyah ready?"

"I'm ready!" My little sister beamed, entering the now overly tense dining room. “Oh... Hey, Shawn.”

“What are you doing here?” I asked, only to y/n.

“Liyah, you got your stuff?”

She nodded. “Yeah, let’s go.” She crossed the room and pressed a kiss to Mum’s cheek. “I’ll be back later.”

“Is it cool if I take her out to dinner?” y/n asked, still not looking at me. "There were a lot of people at the mall when I passed by so we might be there longer than expected."

“What the hell is going on?” I exclaimed, and I knew eyes were on me now, but not the eyes I so desperately wanted to be on me. "Did you know she was coming over?" I asked mum.

She didn't answer me and that was response enough. “That’s fine, honey. But come back for dessert, okay? Manny and I were thinking sundaes with all the fixings.”

“You know the way to my heart, Karen. We’ll be back by eight.”

“Let go of me, Shawn,” her voice was barely above a whisper.

“Not until you look at me,” I said, desperation lacing between every word.

She sighed and fished her keys out of her pocket, “Hon, can you wait in the car? I’ll be right there.”

My sister nodded and walked out of the house without so much as a glance my way. And when the door shut behind her, those y/e/c eyes finally met mine, breaking me even more because they didn’t hold that light they used to.

"What, Shawn? What could you possibly want?"

I open and close my mouth like a fish gasping for water.

And I broke. "You. Always fucking you!"

"I know, but-"

"Do you seriously think you can defend yourself here?" Y/n crosses her arms over her chest and it only makes me more upset.

"What makes you think you have any right to defend yourself?"

"Excuse me?!"

"WHO?! Which of your 'close friends' am I supposedly fucking around with?"

Hearing her curse that way reminds me that we're in my parent's house and I suddenly feel really bad for causing this scene in front of my mum, but we're already too far gone.

"Oh, don't play dumb!"

"Enlighten me." She won't budge from her spot, but I've paced so much and so quickly that I was starting to leave a path in the carpet.

"With Connor. I saw you were together on your instagram."

"How could you even see that if I blocked you?"

"Are you gonna deny it?"

"I haven't written since you left," I said lowly, suddenly much too tired to continue this screaming match that literally just started. "And I've been seeing this girl," I said and tried to find some type of emotion behind her eyes, but there was nothing.

"Then why the hell should it matter if I was with Connor? Even as friends."

I couldn't answer her yet, so I continued, "She never wants to hang out. She's only there for awards and stuff. It kind of sucks actually."

She scoffed, "That's funny. Because that seemed to be exactly what you were wanting while we were together."

"That's not what I wanted, y/n. I just lost sight of what we had, my feelings got confused, and they shouldn't have. I didn't mean to hurt you that way."

"But you did! And now you're complaining for what? Because she's not waiting around for you like I was?"

"Honey-"

"No! You don't get to call me that anymore! You have no right!"

"Okay," I hold my hands up in defense. "I'm sorry. I just, I don't know what to say to make this better. I didn't realize that you felt this way until it happened to me. And it's the worst feeling. I feel like nothing I do will ever be good enough." I sigh, "and I'm miserable without you," I confessed.

"I'm sorry to hear that. But that's not my fault. You made the decisions that you did and you lost me in the process. That was all you."

"I want to go back. Forget that it's over."

"But you can't," she said, finally uncrossing her arms.

"But if we could?"

She shook her head, "even if we could. I'm not willing to forget."

"Will we ever be okay again? Be the way we used to be? Before we started dating."

I slide to the floor, my head in my hands, shoulders shaking with my uncontrolled sobs.

I never thought I'd feel this heartbreak. It's even worse the second time, somehow. Maybe because I know now that this is it for us.

Because I was always the master of words, and her of action. But in this moment, there are no words to save me, nor weapons to save her.

We are caught, defenseless, on seperate sides of the door.

***

CG taglist: @mx-and-mb @toolazymyguy @jaysgotabadrep @suckerformendes @sixwyrxstuff @particularmila @lizzy-rome99 @trustmeimadoctor2011 @coralchloe

Permanent taglist: @curlyshawny @shawns-badreputation @anamariel2301 @bbellbagel @turtoix @tomshufflepuff @ivegotparticulartaste

A/n: I didn't feel the same way about this one as I did the first one, but I hope you enjoyed it!

Like, reblog, and leave feedback!! 💙

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