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sweater-daddiesdumbdork · 3 years

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Even The Grinch Needs A Sidekick

Summary- 4k Mike (Me from Playing It Cool) x You. You have been busy, and today is no different. A children's Christmas Party at the hospital where you work is taking up all your time. Mike calls in Scott for some culinary help so you can have a relaxing night. Mike also finds a new friend and brings him home. Fluff. I really don’t think there are any warnings, but if you all pick up on something, go ahead and let me know. The lovely divider made by @firefly-graphics Happy Holiday Everyone

A/N- This wasn’t what I had planned for this chapter. But you know what, sometimes the story just does what it wants, damned if the writer wants that. I do love it though.

Previous Chapter- Tonight It’s Scrooge McDuck

You tugged on your scrubs, having pulled out your favorite pair with The Grinch dressed as Santa Claus, Max with his single antler and little Cindy Lou Who with her red Christmas bauble. You hummed while grabbing your bell earrings when Mike came into the bedroom, glancing at you all dressed up for the hospital. “What's the occasion?” He questioned while turning you around and looking you up and down.

“A group of us are going down into the children's ward to hand out some presents. I know I'm not supposed to wear the decorated scrubs, but it's once a year. Tomorrow I will go back to those boring as fuck ones.” You leaned up to kiss him swiftly before stepping around him. “But I'm going to be late, and I have an order of cookies to pick up on my way to work.”

Mike followed you out, unlike you, he wasn't in a rush anywhere. It was a few days before Christmas and just as he had promised, he was about halfway done with Brian's script. The detective drama story line spoke to him a bit more than the rom-com scripts he was stuck with last time, and was finding it a hell of a lot easier to spend his day thinking about.

You were busy packing a bag with some stuff you had picked up for the kids, and Mike grabbed a bagel he wrapped earlier, toasted lightly with cream cheese as well as a to go mug of coffee, you were distracted and listing off your to-dos when he handed them to you. “Don't forget to eat, and I got dinner tonight.”

“Oh thank you, I know i have been all over the place the past week.” You paused when you saw what he had and took them to set the mug beside your bag, and pack away the bagel while continuing to talk to him. “You know… tonight is Chopped, and I shouldn’t be late tonight.” You bit your lip in a grin and turned to face him. “We might be able to beat our record.” Hinting at a bedroom game you two played, just for the hell of it.

Mike's eyes crinkled in the corner knowing well what you were playing at, reaching out to grab the front of your shirt and ease you forward into his arms, a grin softening his features as he wiggled his brows. “Think we will beat our time tonight. It's been awhile since we’ve messed around.” His hands slid down to cup your ass cheeks through your scrubs, making you arch into him, and you chuckled while easing your arms around his neck and tilting your head to press your lips to his, teasing darts of the tongue dragging against his bottom lip before pulling away, not letting the kiss get to that deep needing way. That has caused you to be late before and you weren’t going to let yourself be late today.

“That will have to wait till tonight Mike.” You wink at him as he groans as if waiting was not in his plan. “See you later tonight, and smile Baby, no being a Grinch just before Christmas.” You shouldered your bag and backed to the door to stay out of his reach, and slipped out the door with a grin. Mike snapped the door open as you were heading down the stairs.

“Love you to Y/N” He shouted, and you waved back at him before disappearing from sight. Mike closed the door behind him, and pulled out his phone to scroll through his contacts. Hitting Scott’s name, he pressed dial and waited through the rings before a groggy voice answered.

“What Man, it's 7 am, what in the hell do you already want Mike?” Scott snapped out and Mike grinned hearing his best friend.

“Good Morning to you to Scott, are you still up for helping me tonight?” Mike asked and Scott groaned out a yes before hanging up. Whistling Mike grabbed a piece of toast and went to his computer to get to work. A text came through a short time later, a grocery list for Mike to pick up.

Mike was coming back from the store with the ingredients Scott sent him a list of when he heard something shuffling in an alleyway he was passing. His head tilted when he heard the whimper that shifted into a scared woof, and Mike turned partially into the dirty alleyway, a particularly smelly dumpster half blocked it from sight and the light bright street seemed to grow into a darker ominous presence the further he stepped in, listening intently for that noise again. “Hello?” He asked cautiously, and all that filled his mind was somebody stashed behind the disgusting dumpster, and then he would be pulled into questioning by the cops…

I really gotta stop watching those dramas Y/N liked so much he thought to himself as he peered into the edge of the dumpster to see nothing then dirty black garbage bags that had been torn into. Nothing unusual. But under the dumpster came a whine, rather pathetic, and Mike looked down between his feet to see a black nose with streaked white fur peek out with a loud sniff against his shoe, and a tilt had it grabbing at his shoelaces that were half hanging loose. “Hey!” he exclaimed and backed up to see the nose disappear back under the dumpster.

“Here boy… or girl, whatever you are.” Mike called while shifting to a kneel while setting his groceries aside and landing carefully on his palms to lean down and peek under the dumpster. At first there was nothing to see, but then a puppy was trying to wriggle its way out the other side, on its belly with its back legs stretched out behind him.

Mike was quick to bolt around the dumpster to see the puppy almost out from underneath it. Covered in mud and who knows what else, his head much bigger than the rest of his body, Mike was able to nab the puppy on the nape of his neck and pick him up, which he hung there growling and barking, his hind end and tail curled up in the fetal position. “Okay little guy, just hold on. Promise not to bite me and I will quit holding you like this.” Mike folded his arm to cradle under the puppy’s backside, and let him lean against his chest. He weighed practically nothing, it seemed all his matted fur made him appear bigger then he actually was. Once he was supported, he quit squirming and studied the man. All while Mike studied him back, now unsure of what to do with him.

Big brown eyes started to droop as a wet black nose bopped against Mikes, and that sealed the deal. Sure there apartment didn't allow dogs but Mike couldn't just leave him there. “Guess you're coming home with me. I already know Y/N will be thrilled.” He grabbed his bag of groceries and made his way back to the apartment, sure to rush up the three flights of stairs and try to shift puppy, and groceries into one arm to get his keys. The puppy ended up wriggling in his arm and he set him down between his shoes to dig out his keys from his pants pocket while the wide eyed mutt peeked around his leg and bounded down the hallway, yipping. “No! Boy get back here.” Mike shoved the door open, along with the groceries before he sprinted after the fleeing canine to get him back. Scooping him up, he rushed back towards his door when the neighbor poked her head out. “Mike, what are you doing?”

“Uh nothing Mrs. Beatrix… Sorry to have bothered you.” He waved one handed over his shoulder while trying to contain the squirming pup in his arms. Once he dipped into the apartment, half tripping over the bag of groceries, Mike slammed the door shut and set the puppy down, who dropped nose to the floor and started weaving back and forth.

“Listen man… if this is gonna work out, you have to help out.” Mike said, kicking off his tennis shoes and grabbing the bag to bring to the kitchen, right behind him was the pitter patter of nails on linoleum and while he was emptying the bag of stuff for Scott, a pair of paws pressed against the back of his calves. A loud whine issued, and looking over his shoulder, he chuckled. “Hungry, arnt ya kiddo? Okay, lets see if Y/N has any ham left over from the night before.” He turned and searched the fridge, the puppy right there with his head stuck in it as well.

It was much later when Scott came over, Mike was working on his script as well as keeping an eye on the new house guest when his ears perked to Scott entering the apartment, his arms filled as well with a couple bags that he set down.

“Uuuh, are you babysitting someone's dog?” Scott asked curiously while his shoes were getting inspected. And Mike snapped his laptop shut to look over the edge of his desk at them.

“No, I found him wedged under a dumpster. I couldn’t leave him there.” Mike dropped his hand and gave a soft whistle, which the pup gave Scott one last sniff before barreling back to Mike which scooped him up into his lap, scratching behind his ears.

“What do you think Y/N will say?” Scott dropped his bags onto the counter and started to unpack and add his ingredients with the stuff Mike had picked up earlier.

“I think she will be secretly thrilled.” Mike ruffled the pups ears and then set him back down on the floor. He moved to a stand and crossed into the kitchen to scrub his hands clean. “She loves dogs and watch her insist we keep him.”

“Even when your landlord doesn't allow dogs here?” Scott was asking with a slight laugh while peeling open all the spices, and Mike took his time making faces down at the pup while drying his hands.

“Eh, hes hardly around and we will figure it out. Besides, I would like to get out of this building, nothing ever works. Last week the hot water was out for the hundredth time it seems. This block always loses power first and last to get it back. Time for an upgrade, Brian already has another script for me to work on after this one finishes. If I really work on it, I should be done right after Christmas.”

Scott grimaced a bit, but kept himself turned away from Mike while listening to him. “You know… a break afterwards might not be a bad thing, You’ve been writing steadily since before October. I know you're on a streak, but you have to come up for air sometime.”

Mike shrugged at Scott. “Hey, I gotta take the pieces where I can get them right? Money is good and getting my name known will help in the long run. It's nothing I can’t handle. I know I’ve been distant a bit with Y/N, why you are here today, teaching me how to roast a chicken.”

“I don’t know how you convinced me to do this. What person doesn't know how to cook a meal for their partner? You two have been dating for two years and this is the first time?” He scolded Mike while grabbing vegetables to give a rinse in the sink. The pup had planted himself between the two men, his ears perked while swinging his head back and forth to listen.

“Take out, out to dinner, breakfast? I don't know, it just hasn’t happened. But tonight my man, with your help, I’m changing that. Y/N has been working hard the last couple weeks, and I know this will make her feel special.” Mike rolled up his sleeves, preparing to help Scott with whatever he needed while winking at their guest. “And who better to help me then you? You and Neil took all those cooking classes together. So what is on the menu tonight?” Mike leaned in to look at a bag, which Scott shooed him out and reached in pulling out the last thing Mike expected, a whole chicken.

“Roast chicken, garlic baby red potatoes, a nice side salad, and rolls. You really can't get easier than that, and it speaks sophisticated.” Scott informed him while placing the chicken in the sink.

“Easy? Dude that's a whole damn bird.” Mike scoffed while coming around the counter. “What do you want me to do with it?”

Scott was already going through the kitchen, grabbing cooking pans and aluminum foil. “Well you can start with unwrapping the chicken and giving it a rinse.”

Mike gave the chicken a look and took a breath. “No big deal, right pupper?” Mike directed at the puppy, who yipped in excitement and tipped his head back to give a cheeky howl, making both the men laugh at his reaction.

The crash course into cooking had Mike's head spinning. Scott had him chopping, dicing, sprinkling seasonings, tossing stuff together and when he finally got the pans into the oven, he took a deep breath. “Okay what's next?” Mike was now on his toes, ready for the next project but Scott was busy washing his hands.

“Now you wait an hour, check it by popping one of the legs near the joint and seeing if the juices run clear. Also let it rest when you take it out for good, or else it will be dry as hell.” Scott informed while drying his hands. “Also you need to get cleaned up. And give the poor dog a bath.” Scott leaned down where the puppy scooted away from Mike and sniffed at his fingers, giving them a lick first and then a playful bite which Scott shook his finger loose from the tiny teeth. Mike watched a moment before checking his phone.

“Y/N will be home soon, so I will get on that. I bet he's a pretty cute pup under all that dirt.” Mike leaned down to pick him up, and Scott straightened, grabbing his reusable grocery bags and tucked them under his arm.

“Text me tomorrow to let me know how it came out and we on for Saturday at the bowling alley?” Scott approached the door and Mike followed, turning the pup around to wave his paw at Scott.

“Yes Uncle Scott.” Mike mimicked in a joking high pitched voice, leaving Scott rolling his eyes at his friend.

“Bite him would ya? You still got those sharp baby teeth.” Scott let himself out and Mike twisted the puppy once more to face him.

“What an ass huh?” Which rewarded him with a resounding woof in agreement and a nip at the end of his nose. “God damn it, you weren't supposed to listen to him.” Mike grumbled while retreating to the bathroom, knowing the timer would let him know when to check on the chicken. “Okay, what's safe to use on you?” he questioned while setting the pup down in the bathtub and pulled out his phone to google while starting to put warm water in the tub.

You trudged up the apartment's stairs, a few gift bags hanging off your arm from some of the long time residents at the hospital. You were exhausted and really looking forward to opening up that bottle of wine you’ve been saving and crashing on the couch with Mike.

Jingling keys from your coat pocket and letting yourself in, the first thing that you noticed was the smell of chicken and potatoes wafting in from the kitchen, making your stomach roll in hunger and your mouth water. Following your nose, you went to drop off your bags when you called out “Mike? Where you at?” You had expected him to be in front of his glowing computer screen, where he usually was when in the middle of writing a script, but not tonight.

“Will you stop it? I'M IN HERE.” You heard him call from down the hallway, and after you toed off your shoes, you started down to hear something whining and splashing.

“Mike… what's going on?” You question as you stop at the bathroom doorway to see something you never expected to see. Mike was kneeling next to the tub and hanging off the edge was soggy paws and a soapy puppy giving the most pitiful look up at him while wagging his tail, sending a trail of water and soap spreading all over the room.

“I said cut that out!” Mike wailed while reaching to catch the tail and squeeze out the excess water from it before letting it go, which just started the sloppy wagging again and a howl now while Mike attempted to rinse him off. “Welcome home Baby.”

You just melt at the scene, grabbing a towel off the counter and unfolding it while Mike moves to a stand, picking the soaked dripping pup with him and you go to wrap him up in the fluffy towel. “Mike, where did you find this sweet baby?” You croon as you go to gently rub him dry, cupping his face and smiling at him.

“Well… Under a dumpster a few blocks away.” Mike let you take the pup in your arms as your gently swaying him back and forth, still crooning and nuzzling him while hes giving licks to the tip of your nose. “I couldn't leave him there.”

“Absolutely not.” You turned to leave the bathroom, leaving Mike to drain and rinse the tub while you brought your new friend out to the living room. Having him still wrapped in a towel, you settled on the couch and started to unwrap him from the towel, seeing his little yawns as he curled up on your scrub clad thighs. “Who would just leave you out there all alone little baby?”

Mike finished up, taking a quick peek at his chicken, which had turned a deep golden brown, and the scent of sage and butter wafted from the open oven. Pulling it out, he listened to you talking to the puppy while setting it on the counter to let it sit before cutting into it.

“Wine?” He called out while pulling out your favorite glass, already knowing the answer when you resounded a yes from the other room. Pouring it, he went back in to sit down next to you, handing you the wine and tossing his arm over your shoulder to pull you in closer. Tucking in his side, you hummed softly while softly petting the snoring pup in your lap.

“We should think about what we're going to do with him.” You sigh a bit, scritching behind his ear while he twisted in your lap and went belly up, your fingers tickling along the pink of his belly.

Mike considered it, letting his own fingers trail along your shoulder. “Why not keep him? We only have a few months left of our lease. About time we move right? Maybe something bigger.”

You had never heard Mike talk like this, like in the future setting. He had always been in the moment, by the seat of your pants kind of man, and you were always a bit nervous to even bring up the future with him. You cleared your throat a bit while looking up at him, straightening a bit, which jostled the puppy just a bit and woke him up with a whining yawn, stretching in your lap. “You really want that Mike?” You searched his face and he shrugged, a tinge of pink along the top of his cheeks.

“Well I wouldn't mention it if I didn't Y/N.” He teased while reaching for the pup who started to wriggle around in your lap, and set him down on the floor before pushing himself to a stand. “Come, I actually made a real dinner and you still gotta tell me about work. Did that intern drive you crazy today?” He efficiently changed the subject, which you let him. Slipping into his hold, you went to help him in the kitchen. Leaning over the counter as he transferred the chicken, you inhaled deeply.

“You made this Mike?” you asked incredulously with an arched brow, waiting for him to confess that it was an order in and he made it look homemade, but he smirked at you while starting to carve.

“I will have you know I made this myself.”

You gave him the look, the one that demanded the ultimate truth.

“With Scotts help, okay. But I did the work.” Mike plucked a piece of chicken loose and held it to you, which you popped in your mouth, licking at your lip and grinning at how it tasted. Reaching for another piece and plucking a piece to give to the puppy waiting patiently at your foot. “Scott just instructed me on what to do.”

“His classes are paying off. Maybe he can become our free instructor.” You joked while going around the counter to finish helping Mike get stuff ready and for the first time in a while you two sat at the table instead of crashing in front of the tv with junk food. Soon plates were pushed aside, full from the excellent food and tired after the long day, you went to take a quick shower while Mike cleaned up the kitchen.

Coming back out dressed in sleep shorts and a tank, you found Mike laying on the couch with the puppy standing on his back legs, front paws on the couch trying to jump up. Mike scooped him up onto the couch with him, whispering to him. “Looks like your staying boy, what are we going to name you? Buster? You almost look like a Buster.” You approached the couch and Mike shifted enough so you could lay down along his side, half wedged on him and between the couch, laying your head on Mike's shoulder.

“Hmmm, what about Scout?” You wiggle your nose at the puppy, who efficiently ignored both names, proceeding to chew on Mike's shirt, the Christmas lights on the tree being the only glow in the room. You smiled and whispered out. “Hey Max… look at me.”

Which the brown and white puppy immediately perked up, and Mike shook his head. “Max? Why Max?”

You grinned while watching Max perk up every time Mike said his name, your giggle muffled against his shirt. “We needed a Christmas dog name.” Then you hummed out Your A Mean One Mr.Grinch. “Max can be your sidekick now Mr.Grinch.”

Mike gave a laugh, running his fingers along your hips, making you laugh out and trying to pull away. Max growled out, barreling against you and Mike to tug at Mikes hand, and you grasped the pup to set him aside gently so that you two rough housing didn’t end up getting him hurt.

“Seems like he is more your sidekick Baby.” Mike smirked as he pulled you in closer to him, flushing kisses against your neck and rubbing up and down your back. You settled back in against his chest. “Ready for bed?” He asked, calculating how many hours were left so he could write a bit after you fell asleep.

“Mmhh, it was such a nice evening, I hate to end it so soon.” You tilted your head up to press your lips to his and Mike pushed up to a sit.

“We will pick it up tomorrow. Besides, I should probably take the rugrat out to potty, now that it’s dark out.”

Your arms eased around his neck and you gave him a more passionate loving kiss in thank you, and eased up. “I will see you when you come back up Mike.” Max sat there watching the two of you and you ruffled Max’s ears, then headed to the bedroom. Mike watched you go down the hallway and then looked to see Max had ditched him to go check out the tree, sniffing excitedly when Mike's eyes sprang wide to see him pop a squat.

“Max! No!” Mike yelled, springing up to catch the pup.

#playing it cool au #holiday #holiday 2020 #amber writes #sweater writes #chris evans characters #me aka mike #mike x you #max comes to live with them #merry christmas

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gay-otlc · 3 years

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Monsters- Chapter ב

Previous chapter

Summary (changed from last time btw): Eyphah has monsters in hir head. How much do the monsters have to control hir life before ze becomes the monster?

Content warnings: OCD/intrusive thoughts/trich, religion, cursing, low self esteem, violence, lmk if I need to add anything.

Playlist (if anyone’s curious)

Word count: 1762

“Monster,” ze whispered to hirself again, as ze walked through hir door. Ze swallowed and put on a fake smile. “Shoshanah! I’m home!”

No response.

Heart thundering, Eyphah rushed across the hallway and up the stairs, footsteps echoing loudly. “Shoshanah!” ze yelled again, ripping the door open. The lights were off, bed empty, sheets slightly ruffled. Hir eyes flicked around wildly until they fell upon a sheet of paper resting on the nightstand.

Eyphah exhaled, grabbing it.

Eyphah-

I know you get worried when I��m not here, so sorry to worry you, but I had to fill in for Yakov at the hospital. I won’t be home until late, so you can have dinner without me. I’m alright and I love you!

Love,

Shoshanah.

“Fucking idiot,” Eyphah muttered, setting the note down and rubbing hir temples. Why did ze have to freak out every time Shoshanah didn’t answer immediately? Why did the monsters in hir head have to fill it with images of Shoshanah lying in her bed, unable to move, dying before hir eyes- or already dead.

And ze was still fucking anxious. “She’s okay,” ze muttered again, shaking hir head. Hir eyebrows itched. A lot, like the fear of stabbing someone with hir sword and finding Shoshanah dead had all physically manifested in hir left eyebrow, needing to be extracted from hir body.

Ze pulled.

And pulled again.

And then wrapped hir hands behind hir back and sat on them, determined not to pull again.

And pulled again.

“I fucking hate you!” ze yelled at hirself. Frustrated, ze stood up and grabbed hir notebook, opening it to the most recent page.

Reasons I don’t want to die:

I want to learn the new sword move.

I love Shoshanah

Shoshanah loves me

Maybe I’ll find a new ahav

No babka when you’re dead

NO RUGELACH WHEN YOU’RE DEAD!

The thought makes me feel sick

I don’t want to die

I don’t want to die I don’t want to die I don’t want to die

Eyphah remembered writing that. Ze’d been baking; latkes, was it? It was Tammuz; last month, and one of the summer ones, but ze hadn’t wanted to let the wrong season stop hir from enjoying latkes. The rest of the memory was a bit blurry. Ze opened up hir drawer to get a spatula and flatten the latkes, but hir gaze fell upon a knife.

Ze imagined grabbing the knife instead of the spoon.

Ze imagined quickly thrusting the knife into hir chest.

Ze imagined bleeding out on the floor, Shoshanah coming to discover hir body and screaming.

Eyphah hadn’t opened that drawer since, nor had ze baked.

It was sad. Ze used to love baking.

Baking and sword fighting; those were hir favorite things to do for fun, but the monsters in hir head made hir terrified of that. What would happen next? Would ze have to avoid Shoshanah, someone she liked to do for fun as well?

Do you even love Shoshanah? Or are you just her ahav out of pity?

“SHUT UP!” ze screamed, and wrote down ten reasons ze loved Shoshanah.

The way she bites her lip and looks down when she finds a joke funny but doesn’t want to admit it’s funny.

Her kisses. She tastes like strawberries.

The way her eyes light up when someone calls her a girl.

The little twirl she does when she wears a dress.

Her singing voice for Havdalah prayers.

Her determination to help others.

When she talks about picking her name and has this sweet little smile on her face.

The way she flaps her hands when she’s happy.

How her hand fits in mine perfectly.

Her laugh, like sunlight.

When Eyphah was thoroughly convinced ze actually loved hir ahav, and wasn’t just faking it and toying with her feelings out of some sick sadism, ze threw the notebook down and paced across the room, trying to release the nervous energy bubbling up inside hir.

Normally, when ze had this buzz of energy, ze tried to get it out by practicing with hir sword. But that wouldn’t work now, would it?

Convenient.

Until hir stomach rumbled, ze had no idea ze was hungry, but ze gratefully accepted the distraction of going to get food. Ze was good at baking, but terrible at cooking, and ze hated using the stove anyway- too big a risk ze’d set something on fire. Bagels, maybe? Shoshanah bought bagels yesterday, and they should have at least a few left. No cream cheese, though; ze’d have to use a knife for that.

Eyphah focused on the motion of hir legs, lifting one up and swinging in front of the other, over and over again, until ze reached the kitchen, because otherwise ze’d get too lost in hir own head to move.

Even without cream cheese, the bagels tasted pretty good, and ze ate them quickly. After reciting the birkat hamazon, the sound of hir voice stopped echoing through the house, and it fell silent. Ze was just alone in here, and it was dark out, and there was nothing stopping the monster in hir from taking over.

Maybe ze should go out into town? Ze hated being around people, always had, and ze was probably a danger to them, but maybe it would be better than being alone in this empty house. Eyphah shifted hir weight on the chair as ze thought, and even the creaking seemed to whisper monster at hir.

It was official, ze had gone insane, and Eyphah needed to get out of this fucking house.

After pausing just long enough to leave a note for Shoshanah- Shoshana didn’t worry like ze did, she probably wouldn’t need it, but maybe it would be nice- ze changed into a cleaner shirt, short sleeved and white like before, but not covered in imaginary blood stains. Then, ze left the house and decided to walk to the jewelry store, hoping to get hirself a new magen david necklace.

It was raining lightly outside, the sky clouded over with grey so ze couldn’t see any stars. Disappointing. Other than that, Eyphah didn’t mind the rain much; sure, hir hair was getting wet, and hir scalp where ze had a bald spot, but it felt kind of nice. Calm. Ze could almost imagine that the rain was washing away all the evil that lived inside hir.

Almost.

Slowly, ze breathed and focused on the noise of hir shoes clicking against the pavement, of the rain gently pattering on the windows of the stores surrounding hir. It had been such a long time since ze just focused on what was going on in the world around hir. Most of the time, ze was too caught up in hir own head, obsessed with the past or dreading with the future. Eyphah let hir eyes linger behind hir a little too long, or narrowed hir vision on the world ze was hurtling into, and and never took the time to look around.

It wasn’t so bad.

Ze ran a finger through hir damp hair, making it look a little more presentable, before walking into the jewelry store. Was it even open this late? Maybe ze should have checked that first. But the lights were on, and loud voices flooded the building, and there were people in there. It felt much warmer than hir empty house.

“Eyphah! Shalom!” someone called, and ze started a little, not having expected to be welcomed. It was easy to forget people liked hir, when ze struggled with liking hirself so much.

Ze waved, responding with “Hey, how’s it going?” Hopefully, if ze initiated a conversation, whoever called hir name would come closer to hir and ze would figure out who it was. Their voice wasn’t instantly recognizable.

They did, in fact, come closer; Chaim, Eyphah remembered. They had been extremely close as children; he had done an aliyah at hir B’nai Mitzvah a few years ago, and while they hadn’t spent as much time together recently, they were still good friends. Eyphah smiled a bit.

“Pretty good,” Chaim said, grinning. He was usually grinning, his slightly crooked teeth showing and dark eyes lighting up. His hair had gotten longer since the last time ze saw him, dark and curling around his warm, copper colored face. “I’m getting a boat soon, finally. I’ve been saving up for years.”

“That’s great! I’m really happy for you!”

“Yeah, I leave in a few weeks, but I’ll be sure to write. How about you, anything interesting going on?”

Eyphah tugged at hir hair, a few strands coming loose. Chaim must have noticed the bald spots, wider and more obvious than the last time they’d spoken a few months ago, but he was nice enough not to comment on it. Nothing very noteworthy had gone on in hir life recently, especially not something ze’d want to share with people.

“I’ve been working on sword fighting more often,” ze said finally, omitting how terrified ze was of hurting anyone. “Gotten pretty good at it.”

“Nice! Please don’t stab me though.”

That’s what I’m worried about. “Haha, I won’t,” Eyphah said weakly, clawing at the skin where hir neck sloped into hir shoulder and tearing it off.

Chaim took a step forward in line as whoever was at the front left. Eyphah followed. “A lot of people here, huh? I thought there’d be hardly anyone.”

“Tu B’av is coming up soon, I guess. A lot of people buying their ahavs jewelry.” Eyphah usually made Shoshanah a cake for Tu B’av; ze supposed ze’d have to come up with something else this year. Hopefully ze didn’t disappoint her.

“Right. Forgot about that.”

Eyphah nodded, shoving thoughts of disappointing Shoshanah out of hir head. “Are you here buying anything for your ahav?” ze asked, the corners of hir mouth turning up.

Chaim snorted. Eyphah had thought he would find that funny, considering he had never and would never love people like ahavs, the mere thought that he would was ridiculous. “I was hoping to get earrings, actually,” he said once he stopped laughing. “Lost my old ones.”

“Disaster,” ze teased.

“You’re one to talk, Mx. I got my hair cut because I burnt it cooking.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“You love me, bitch.”

“I do.” Eyphah smiled again- a real genuine smile!- and leaned against Chaim’s wide frame. He made hir feel like a person. That was nice. Ze had forgotten what it was like to feel like a person, not a monster.

#shai's writing #shai types things #monsters #everyone is jewish wip #gonna rebagel with taglist #i love chaim btw #and he's aromantic #if that wasn't obvious

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babbushka · 4 years

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Mind & Soul - Ch 7/10 (Part 1)

The story of how one man fell out of love and into it again

Charlie Barber x Reader

Tumblr masterlist for previous chapters // Available on AO3

6k; Warnings for angst, marital affairs, mentions of past infidelity, current infidelity

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You don't know what love is Until you've learned the meaning of the blues Until you've loved a love you had to loose You don't know what love is

Last April

It’s been a month, since Nicole left. Charlie tries not to look at the calendar anymore, tries not to think of it in terms of days that she’s been gone. Charlie tries not to think about anything anymore in terms of her absence, he tries. It’s hard, when so much of the house was hers, has her presence.

It’s impossible to deny that things are different. He doesn’t smack his head on cabinet doors anymore, only has to pick up after one person instead of two. He doesn’t trip over her shoes or get frustrated when her laundry is thrown all over the floor. He can keep the windows open now, for however long he wants without her complaining about the air conditioning. He invites you over more and more, your time together less of a sharp secret. You have a key to the house, there’s an excuse now, for you to be around so much – and he takes it and holds it tight against his chest, you being around.

Those are good things, and he holds onto them, the good things.

She has been gone for a month. Thirty-one days, to be exact, but who’s counting?

Charlie’s counting.

Henry’s counting too.

Charlie’s taken it upon himself to pretend like everything is normal, and he forces himself to believe that it’s going well. Every morning he wakes Henry up and tells him to get dressed, gets himself dressed. They brush their teeth together mostly so that Charlie can make sure he’s doing it for long enough, and then Charlie starts making breakfast.

He doesn’t burn the muffins or the bagels in the toaster oven anymore, he learned that lesson the hard way that first time, that first morning. Sometimes he runs late for work and has to rush out the door with Henry, other days they somehow have enough time to talk about each other’s dreams they had the night before over french toast.

This is one of those times where Charlie can’t stop checking his watch, where he’s scrambling to hurry hurry hurry, because he’s got something big, something huge that could potentially walk through the door at work, and he needs to be there if it does.

“Henry, come on honey, breakfast time.” Charlie calls out to wherever his son went for a moment.

“What are we having?” Henry asks, bounding into the kitchen in a mis-matched outfit that doesn’t really go together. Charlie doesn’t have the frame of mind to care too much, Henry can wear what he likes, who gives a shit if it goes together? Charlie’s the one who has to keep himself together, not Henry.

“Cereal.” Charlie fishes out the box from the pantry and puts it on the table, and Henry sighs.

“We had cereal for breakfast yesterday.” He complains, going to the fridge anyway.

“There are kids who don’t get to eat breakfast at all, you know.” Charlie’s not looking, he’s doing up his tie in the reflection of the little mirror that hangs on the wall. The fucking knot isn’t coming out right, and he doesn’t have the time for this – he doesn’t --

“Dad?” Henry interrupts his thoughts apprehensively.

“What?” Charlie turns then, gives up and figures he’ll just do it on the fucking subway.

“We’re out of milk.” Henry shakes the carton and they can both hear the sloshing of only an inch of milk left.

Charlie wants to scream, because he hates when people leave only an inch of milk left without saying anything, but he doesn’t even know anymore if he’s the one who did that, and he sure as shit isn’t going to scream at Henry, but he doesn’t have the time to make anything more substantial for breakfast.

“No milk? Okay, um, how about I make us some – ” He tries to think out loud.

“Can I have ice cream?” Henry asks randomly, and Charlie frowns, looks at his watch, tries to figure out if Henry is kidding.

“No, it’s six o’clock in the morning.” Charlie shakes his head eventually, blinks and thinks and is in desperate need of a cigarette. “Here, come on why don’t we get breakfast on the way to school. Go get your backpack, we can go grocery shopping when you’re out of school, okay?”

That appeases Henry enough to stop with the questions for two seconds, and Charlie drags a hand through his hair, runs it down over his face. He looks exhausted, and that’s because he feels exhausted, but he just chugs a mug of black coffee that’s way too hot and tries not to grimace as it hits his empty stomach.

There’s a place around the corner from Henry’s school that has the best breakfast sandwiches Charlie’s ever eaten. He’s gone there a couple of times with you, back in the beginning, way back when you were just friends. Back when he was falling in love with you but too terrified to say anything, too worried you’d reject him, worried you’d tell him to stay away.

You’d sit and order a sandwich and Charlie would order a coffee and the two of you would share the other’s while you smiled behind the screens of your laptops and tried to pretend this was nothing out of the ordinary.

Now he knows, you both know -- it never was, was it?

He almost wants to call you up and ask if you’ll join, but he knows you’re asleep still, it’s early still. He’ll call you soon, when he knows you’ll be awake, flipping through the newspaper out in the backyard like you like to do.

He’ll call you then.

For now, he and Henry are leaving the place around the corner with mouthfuls of egg and cheese.

“Here, hold my hand we’re crossing the street.” Charlie says as they approach the sidewalk and wait for the light to turn red like all the other pedestrians. He offers a couple spare fingers to his son and emphasizes around a croissant, “Hold my hand Henry.”

“You’re carrying too much stuff.” Henry remarks, and Charlie huffs out a laugh that’s also a sigh.

He’s got his messenger bag, and a briefcase, and a couple folders and a brown lunch bag and a cup of coffee from the corner store, and he looks down at this mess in his arms and wonders when the mess started reflecting his life – or if it were vice versa.

“Next time I won’t carry so much okay, but we have to hurry I’ve got a big meeting today, and if it goes well, when we’re at the grocery store how about I get us stuff for ice cream sundaes to celebrate, okay? Does that sound like fun?” Charlie tries to be a fun parent, a good parent, a decent one, anyway.

He also really just wants to get his kid to school so he can run to the subway and fix his tie.

“Yes!” Henry has a skip in his step about that, and Charlie walks faster faster faster, trying to make it on time so that Henry’s there before the bell.

“Is your bagel good?” He asks as they rush, as that skip in Henry’s step turns to a bit of a jog from the effort of trying to keep up.

“Uh huh – dad!” He complains right as he stumbles over a lip in the sidewalk, and Charlie immediately realizes he’s been pulling on Henry’s arm too tight, going too fast, and his stomach drops.

“Sorry! Sorry, shit, we’re okay, you’re okay.” He crouches down to make sure Henry didn’t get hurt at all. He hugs Henry right in front of all the other parents hugging their kids, and he tries to stop his heart from racing. “That was my bad, I’m sorry. You’re okay. Have a good day at school, okay? Remember everything so you can tell me all about it when I pick you up, alright?”

“Bye dad!” Henry nods and then he’s running up the steps to go meet with his friends.

Charlie stays there until he’s sure Henry is inside safely as the bell rings rings rings, an alarm going off inside Charlie’s head as he snaps into action, rearranges all the shit in his arms so he can run to the subway station.

You don't know how lips hurt Until you've kissed and had to pay the cost Until you've flipped you're heart and you have lost You don't know what love is

“You’re late.” She says, when he finally bursts into the building space above the theater, where everyone’s been waiting around for him to show up.

He’s out of breath, his tie is crooked, he’s jumpy and pissed off because he nearly missed the stop on the subway again and he checks his watch, nearly has to steel himself for it.

“No I’m not.” He says, wills it to be true.

“Well you almost are.” His stage manager nags at him and he’s frustrated at himself and at Nicole and at the world.

“Almost isn’t late, Mary Ann, now could you just – ”

“Hey I was wondering – ”

“No, Mary Ann, could you just let them know I’m here?” He interrupts him interrupting her, snaps a little too hard.

He hasn’t thought about her, about Mary Ann. Doesn’t think about the awful sex he had once upon a time when he wished he was having sex with you, back before he had the courage to be with you. He’s a bastard for getting her hopes up, because it’s clear that her hopes are up now, now that Nicole’s gone.

He doesn’t have the time for her, he never really did, and he knows that’s a shitty thing to think, but it doesn’t make it any less true.

“Sure thing Charlie.” She says eventually, no longer coy, no longer twirling a strand of hair around her finger.

He feels bile rise up in the back of his throat as he pushes past her, greets the rest of his troupe on his way to the small room which serves as his office. He gets to sit for exactly thirty seconds, doesn’t even have a chance to fix his fucking tie, before the door opens again and two men in crisp suits are stepping inside.

Charlie stands up behind his desk, squares his shoulders with false confidence and extends a hand.

They’re a pair of brothers, these men, brothers with exorbitant wealth and who pride themselves on being a patron of the arts. Charlie’s only ever heard of them in passing, he’s never been contacted, never even seen them in person.

And yet here they are, in Charlie’s little studio, in their smart suits.

Charlie’s going to scream.

“Hello gentlemen, it’s great to meet you in person.” He smiles with what he hopes is a casual sort of warmth. He wants to make a good impression on these people – he needs to.

“Likewise Mr. Barber! I must admit we were so impressed with your show, I myself came to see it twice.” One of them, Tom – or maybe this one is Jerry? He never can tell – takes a look at some of the awards that Charlie’s hung up on the walls.

Well, actually you’re the one who hung them up, ages ago. You’re the one who had gotten them framed and put up on the wall as a surprise for him one day, the thought of you sneaking in here way too early still makes him smile.

He’s smiling now, despite everything, smiling because he’s thrilled that they like his work, that they like him.

“I’m honored, thank you. Please have a seat – can I offer you anything to drink?” Charlie gestures to the two chairs on the other side of the desk, and tries not to feel a rush of power. Is this how big money CEOs felt?

“No, that’s alright.” The other brother, Jerry-Tom waves his offer away, and Charlie thinks no, that’s the power big money CEOs felt, “Listen, Mr. Barber, we’d like to cut right to the chase.”

“We’d like to finance your next project.” Tom-Jerry says with a nod of agreeance, and Charlie wishes that they did take a seat so he could too and not be rude.

“Really?” He asks, braces himself against the desk ever so slightly.

“Yes, really. We feel that you are a well established writer and director, and the MacArthur grant only solidifies this in our mind. Congratulations, by the way.” Jerry-Tom replies with a smug smile behind his circular turtle-shell glasses.

“Thank you very much, I’m – well I’m speechless.” Charlie can’t help but laugh, can’t help but run his hand through his hair because he’s so elated! He can’t believe that they actually meant it, that they actually wanted to work together, he –

The phone in his pocket buzzes buzzes buzzes, and it catches Charlie off-guard; hadn’t he set it to Do Not Disturb?

He remembers that the function doesn’t work for emergency contacts, and when he peeks at the screen on the table where it’s lighting up, the caller ID is of the elementary school, and Charlie’s heart nearly stops.

“Is everything alright?” Jerry-Tom asks, concerned.

“Yes – I’m, I’m so sorry, it’s my son’s school calling.” Charlie picks the phone up, fear cold and blinding as it drips down his into his stomach, “Would you excuse me for a minute?”

He’s out of the office before they even have a chance to respond.

He doesn’t go far, just steps outside the door into the little hallway, big thumb immediately hitting the button to accept the call as he holds it up to his ear, praying nothing happened, he doesn’t know what he’d do if something happened.

“Mr. Barber? This is – ”

“Is Henry alright?” Charlie doesn’t have the patience to be polite, not when his hands sweat and his heart pounds and he’s so tense he feels like he could snap into a thousand tiny pieces.

“Yes he’s fine, he says he forgot to get his workbook from home before arriving at school, is it possible you could bring it in? I hate to bother you but we’re using it extensively today.” The teacher says, and Charlie’s almost stunned by how innocuous the issue is.

He had nearly whipped up a whole scenario where Henry was being whisked away to the hospital right that very second, and the whiplash of it only being forgotten homework or whatever the fuck it was, has him stuttering all over the place.

“Uh, yeah, I can have someone drop it off.” Charlie says, already pulling the phone away from his face.

“Thank you, have a nice day.” The teacher says something along those lines, but he doesn’t really know because he’s hanging up on her, dialing your number as fast as he can.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.” He whispers into the phone, willing you to pick up, checking his watch, begging the powers that be that you’ll answer, that you’re awake.

“Hey honey.” Your groggy voice crackles to life, probably the first time you’re using your voice for the day.

If this were any other circumstance, he’d savor that feeling, the way your voice is like velvet being rubbed the wrong way in the mornings, before you’ve had your coffee you’re still like satin like silk like everything he’s not good enough for.

But there are rich men in his office and they’re waiting for him and so is Henry and the teacher and the world and he doesn’t have the time to savor it even though he desperately wants to.

“(Y/N) I’m so fucking sorry to bother you but can you go into the house and find Henry’s workbook? It’s blue and has letters on it and a hippo. He left it I think on the dining room table?” The urgency in his voice bleeds through to you, because he can never really hold himself back around you.

“You got it, I’m going right now.” You say, and he can hear the rustling of your sheets and his heart soars.

“Thank you so fucking much, thank you, I’d do it but I’m literally in the middle of a meeting.” He’d drop down to his knees if you were there, he’s so filled with gratitude.

“Go, don’t worry, I’ve got it.” You’re blowing kisses into the phone quickly, that urgency of his now transferred to you.

“Thank you, I love you.” He says, hanging up the phone on you and feeling awful about it, before trying to get a fucking grip.

He takes a deep breath, sets his phone back in his pocket, and appears cool as a cucumber as he re-enters his office.

“So sorry gentlemen, where were we?” He returns behind his desk, giving them a friendly smile that suggested all was well.

“The new project, we’ve been hearing buzz that you and your wife have been rehearsing a script but have been struggling to find additional funding for the more…avant-garde aspects.” Tom-Jerry says.

Charlie’s entire stomach plummets.

Sometimes, Charlie really isn’t so sure if he can take much more.

“My wife.” He repeats, the words sounding robotic to his ears.

“Yes, Nicole Barber? She was superb in the previous show.” Tom-Jerry confirms, and he realizes that he must have said something wrong, because he can see the color drain from Charlie’s face.

“Thank you. She um.” He tries not to scream the words, tries not to shout them out until he’s hoarse, tries not to go down the rabbit hole of she left she hates me she doesn’t work with me anymore I don’t want to work with her I don’t like her I don’t love her don’t call her my wife she’s not my fucking wife she hasn’t been for a long time. Instead he swallows that down, says, “We’re no longer together, she lives in Los Angeles now.”

“Oh I’m so sorry to hear that.” They say almost in unison, and Charlie tries tries tries to get a grip.

He needs more coffee than the shitty cup of corner store brew, maybe he’ll ask Mary Ann to get him some.

That thought makes him feel like shit.

“It’s – the new play is on hold, I’ve been working on something else that’s new with the troupe, if you’d like you’re more than welcome to hear the treatment.” Charlie offers meekly, wondering if they’ll even want him now, wondering if he’s any fucking good on his own.

“If you wrote it, we’re sure it’s worth it.” Jerry-Tom seems to be a mind reader, and Charlie doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or cry, and maybe Jerry-Tom can tell, because he checks his watch politely with a, “Perhaps we can come back at a later date – ”

“No, no it’s fine. I’m sorry, please, you have my undivided attention.” Charlie does sit then, and he doesn’t care if it’s unprofessional or not, he doesn’t care.

He doesn’t think his legs can hold him up anymore, he thinks he might be sick if he keeps standing.

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They talk well into the afternoon, past the lunch hour. It’s so refreshing, Charlie thinks, now that he’s calmed down, now that he’s back in his element. The brothers (he finally learns their names) ask for the treatment, they like it. They ask to watch rehearsals, they love it. The troupe is on cloud nine, Charlie is over the moon. He wants to tell you all about it, wants to – he realizes the time just then, it’s nearly four o’clock.

Henry gets out of school at three-fifteen.

He doesn’t think he’s ever called rehearsals closed and ran out of the office that quickly in his entire fucking life.

He runs from the theater to the subway, from the subway to the station, from the train to the house. His phone buzzes buzzes buzzes in his pocket, and he sees ten missed messages from you, three missed calls.

You’re calling him now.

“(Y/N)?” He shoves the phone against his ear, heart racing, running running running.

“Charlie where are you?” You ask, and you’re worried, and something about that worry pangs his chest too harsh, makes him stop around the corner, has to brace himself on a lamppost.

“Shit I’m so – I’m so fucking sorry I’m literally running to you now, I’m – ”

“Deep breaths, it’s okay. I picked him up, we’re at your house. You have like no food here, you know that? Do you want me to – ”

“I’m coming, I’m right here I’m here.” You and Charlie talk over each other all the way until he reaches the front door, until he wrenches it open and is faced with you and his son in the living room, making drawings with crayons. He puts his hands on his hips and tries very hard not to look like he just ran fifteen blocks, “Hey Henry!”

“You said you’d pick me up.” Henry’s not happy, he doesn’t even bother to look up at Charlie from where he’s drawing a very elaborate looking robot.

“I know, I’m sorry, I’m.” Charlie really has to catch his breath, there’s a pain in his side that he presses a hand to, has to lean on the credenza. “I’m sorry. But you got to spend some time with (Y/N), and that’s fun, isn’t it?”

Charlie looks at you with wide pleading eyes, and he can tell that you’re itching to hold him, itching to get your arms around him.

And that fucking kills him, it kills him. Because even now that Nicole is gone, he still can’t have you. Not yet, he can’t yet. It’s all too up in the air, all too uncertain, too soon. He could scream, with how unfair it is – even from a thousand miles away she’s still fucking him over.

He wants to pull you into his arms and hold you tight and kiss you in front of Henry, and he wants it to not be a big deal. But he can’t, because it would be, because he’s still married, technically. He’s still got a wife, technically. One who could show up again any day now and she’d see – she’d know, about the affair. If he lets himself have this now, have you now, the whole world would know about the affair.

And then she would surely take everything away from him, and he doesn’t…he can’t risk that.

You know, he can tell that you know because even though your hands are literally stopping themselves from reaching out to him, you’re not angry about it. You’ve never been angry with Charlie, not in any real way.

You’re probably the only person who isn’t, anymore.

Henry’s angry, coloring away.

“Yeah.” Henry says, and it’s clipped, and Charlie knows he should back off and give his son space, but he sits himself down next to Henry on the couch instead.

You’re over in the armchair, the one that only you ever really seem to sit in. Charlie’s begun to think of it as your chair, your little space in this home. In a sea of reminders of Nicole, that armchair is a safe haven, an island where he can safely come ashore.

“Hey why don’t we all go grocery shopping together, I’ll even let you push the cart.” Charlie offers, knowing that the incentive might earn him some brownie points.

“You will?” Henry takes the bait, and he peeks out at the side of his eye at Charlie, who pretends not to notice.

“Yup, and we’ll get the stuff for sundaes too.” He nods, and this makes him perk up entirely.

“Really?” He asks with a smile now, and Charlie takes in a breath of relief.

“You bet, remember how I said I had a big meeting? It went great, and that’s why I was late, and I’m sorry and it’ll never happen again, okay?” He apologizes, really means it, and Henry can tell.

Henry wraps his arms around Charlie’s middle, presses his face against Charlie’s chest and lets out a sigh himself.

“Okay.” He nods, and Charlie rubs his back for a minute, feeling awful for fucking up so badly like this. Then he asks something that makes Charlie’s heart warm so much that he wonders if Henry can feel it from where his face is still smushed, “(Y/N) will you come too?”

Charlie looks at you, and you smile, and he wishes you could join the hug, wishes you could sit yourself right next to him and he could hold you too. But he can’t, so you only smile from the armchair that he’s decided is yours and you nod.

“I can pick some stuff up for my house, yeah.” You say, and that seals the deal.

Do you know how a lost heart fears The thought of reminiscing And how lips have taste of tears Lose the taste for kissing

You drive to the supermarket together. Charlie drives and you sit in the passenger seat, and Henry sits in the back trying his best to read aloud the slogans on the reusable shopping bags. He’s getting better, Charlie has been helping him more and more. He always helped him with his schoolwork, but now…he maybe has been overcompensating Nicole’s absence, she used to help him too.

But he’s trying, and he’s getting better because of the practice, and Charlie can’t stop smiling about it. He can’t stop smiling in general, because for the first time in a month, with you and him all heading to the grocery store, things feel normal, things feel like they could pass for a normal, every day family.

If someone pulled up to them at a red light, they wouldn’t know that he’s a single father cheating on his wife with his best friend, desperately trying to hang on and adjust to this new way of living and working in the wake of Nicole’s selfish absence -- they’d just see the three of you singing along to the radio.

And that’s a really shitty fucking feeling, Charlie thinks. Because he could have that, he could have had that for so long. He could have had the balls to just tell Nicole he didn’t love her anymore, that he didn’t want to be together anymore, and then maybe none of this would have happened. A year of hiding and sneaking around, months of sleeping on the couch or in the theater or in a hotel with you.

But he didn’t do any of that, and now here you all are, getting out of the car at the fucking grocery store of all places – what was more domestic than this?

“Okay, let’s see what’s on the list…” Charlie says, as he unfolds a little piece of lined paper that you had been working on while Henry colored, “I know, Henry why don’t you go and pick out what kind of ice cream you want for tonight, can you do that for me?”

“Yes!” Henry says, taking his job very seriously and going straight to the dairy section, while you and Charlie grab a cart from the little spot by the front door.

With Henry on his mission, Charlie lets his shoulders sag a little.

“The meeting went well?” You ask with a small smile, wanting to bring him back to happy, always trying to bring him back to happy.

You walk down one of the aisles, a random one that’s got absolutely nothing on the list, but one that’s blissfully empty, a rarity on an afternoon like this. Charlie follows, because he’ll always follow you, and you both stare at a random assortment of pet food, for pets you don’t own, and it feels all too similar to your secret meetings back in the beginning.

Meetings where you and Charlie would plan to do your groceries at the same time, just so you could have some time together at all. Together but apart, that’s how it had always been, hadn’t it? Even now, though you’re standing so close to one another, your shoulders barely brushing, he’s painfully aware that still you have to wait.

But…but you are so close, and your shoulders are just barely brushing, and he could…if he wanted to, he could take a half step closer to you and hold your hand.

It’s been a month, since she left. Surely that was long enough to excuse this small action, this gesture of friendship, wasn’t it? He doesn’t have a very strong will when it comes to holding himself back from you, and even though he wants to kiss you in the middle of the fucking pet food aisle, he lets himself have this, a few of your fingers wrapped around a few of his own.

“They want to finance the play.” Charlie says, because he’s told you about it over glasses of warm drinks late at night while Henry sleeps, the rumors about the brothers.

You forget yourself for a minute, and you wrap him up in a big congratulatory hug, and he hugs you back, because for the first time in so long he has someone he can share good news with, someone who is actually happy for him, someone who cares.

“That’s amazing!” You say too loud, and you laugh out in excitement and he laughs too, and you’re holding onto each other as someone bumps their cart into yours and try to reach around for a can of purina.

You detangle yourselves, the reminder that you’re out in the world a little too harsh, but still you both beam at one another, your happiness infectious.

“Thank you.” Charlie laughs, feeling good about something, feeling good about being with you, even in the strained way you have to be together. He sighs then though, scrubs a hand down his face. “Thank you again, for earlier, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to spring that on you.”

You loop your arm around his in the way that you sometimes do when the both of you walk around anonymously in Times Square, the crook of your elbows hooking around each other in the way that Charlie’s heart wants to wrap around yours all the time.

“You can always spring shit on me, okay?” You say softly, sincerely, “I’m here for you, you and Henry. I mean that.”

He looks at you, and he can feel his heart beat in his throat because what if he kissed you, right there? What if he leaned down and put his lips on yours for just a second? He looks around and maybe now he’s being suspicious, maybe now he’s getting himself paranoid, because the more he looks the more it feels like everyone else in the grocery store knows that this is an affair.

He has no idea when Henry is going to come back, so he decides not to risk it, the kiss.

His lips burn, but he can’t risk it.

“Would you join us for dinner and ice cream tonight? Sometimes when it’s just the two of us, I think he can feel the weight of her absence.” Charlie asks instead, not letting your arm go.

“How are you holding up?” You ask instead of answering, because the both of you know that his question is really a formality, of course you’ll come over, you’ll always come over. Charlie keeps asking you to come over and you always say yes.

He doesn’t know what he’ll do if you ever say no.

You rest your head on his shoulder for a second, as he thinks and thinks and thinks about his answer, tries not to sound pathetic about it.

“I don’t think I am.” He chews on the inside of his cheek, growing frustrated and angry and he tries to blink away tears of frustration as he spills his thoughts on the grocery store floor. “I mean, am I? I wake up, I get dressed, I take care of him and then I try to work and then I come home and take care of him and try to answer his questions and then I lie awake in bed so fucking angry that I could scream. I’m so angry all the time that she’s the one who did this – not to me, but to him.”

He runs a hand through his hair, and you’re patient and you listen to him and Charlie wants to kiss you.

“I – I feel sick about it but I’m so fucking happy that she’s gone I just wish she hadn’t left like this. I wish it could have been something I had any say in, because god knows I have so much to say. And part of me feels like a shitty dad because there’s stuff about Henry that I don’t know because he never told me, even though I try so hard to be there for him all the time, and I try to learn everything I can. I try. But then I fuck up and I wonder if I even know anything about him at all.”

He's breathing hard and getting himself frustrated but you just rest your head on his shoulder, and you squeeze his arm in yours in a reassuring way, and suddenly, suddenly it seems like all his troubles melt away.

“You’re not a shitty father.” You say, “You’re a good father, in a shitty situation.”

How do you always know what to say?

He doesn’t deserve you, doesn’t deserve anything that you give him.

“I’m sorry.” He replies, but for what he isn’t so sure. There’s too much, that he could apologize for, how is he supposed to choose?

“Don’t.” You say, pulling away from him, taking the list out of his hand, because really he needs to snap back to reality, needs to stop bitching in the middle of this pet food aisle. “Now what kind of laundry detergent do you get?”

“It’s orange!” Henry’s voice pipes up from behind them, and you and Charlie separate further as fast as you can.

“Henry don’t scare people like that.” Charlie startles, tips of his ears going red. How long had he been standing there? How much had he heard? What had he seen?

Charlie almost wants to ask, but Henry is bright-eyed and happy, arms filled with pints of flavors of ice cream that normally Charlie wouldn’t dare entertain. He doesn’t look upset or angry or even curious in that way he always is when he sees something he doesn’t really understand, so Charlie counts his lucky fucking stars that Henry must have just only now walked over from the freezer section.

“The laundry, it’s orange.” Henry repeats himself, dumping all the stuff into the cart and pushing his way in front of Charlie to get his hands around the railing, assuming control of the cart the way Charlie had promised.

You and Charlie look at each other and shared a look that practically screams holy shit that was close, and then you’re smiling out your nerves, walking alongside Henry down to the laundry detergent aisle and happily chatting with him, “Thank you, come and help us find the other colors, hm?”

Charlie watches the two of you walk, watches you smile and laugh, and when you throw a look over your shoulder at him and reach out a hand, he’s practically compelled to take it.

You don't know how hearts burn For love that cannot live, yet never dies Until you've faced each dawn with sleepless eyes How could you know what love is, what love is What love is

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#charlie barber x reader #charlie barber/reader #charlie barber x you #charlie barber/you #marriage story #charlie barber imagine #charlie barber fanfic #charlie barber angst #charlie barber fluff #my writing #mind and soul #mind & soul #adam driver marriage story

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ahh-fxck · 4 years

Text

Gay Bar AU: Warrior’s Blues part 4

Hello folks! Here is the next part of my gay bar AU, featuring Geralt and Jaskier.

Big thanks to @stressedspidergirlsfandomblog for being such an amazing beta!

Tag list: @astouract @smolpoe @yes-im-the-violin-girl @ladyknight-keladry

The link to the rest on Ao3 is here.

“Geralt?” A muffled voice calls from outside of the door. Geralt recognizes Jaskier’s voice instantly; Would recognize it anywhere, even though he’s only known him for a night. A flush creeps across his whole body as he dithers, damp towel clutched tightly. “Geralt? Is everything all right?” Jaskier calls again, sounding worried. “Just, it’s two o’ clock in the afternoon… I thought you might be hungry. May I come in?”

Geralt turns to look at the door, seeing the lanky shadow of the handsome man through the shade. He rasps, “I’m fine.” The words seem to unstick him. He strides across to the bed in a swift, efficient movement, drops the towel, and calls gruffly, “I’ll be right there.” He tucks the rest of the items back into his bag in a neat roll, followed by the discharge papers. His injured hand flashes with bright hot pain as he stuffs the papers into his bag, and he growls under his breath. Then he rises and quickly opens the attic door for the man waiting patiently outside.

He is greeted by a charming, crooked smile as Jaskier greets him over a little tray holding two coffees and a couple of open faced bagel sandwiches. There’s sugar, even cream, each in little bowls that bear a buttercup motif. Jaskier himself is dressed in a loose yellow tank top and denim shorts, though these are significantly longer than yesterday, hanging down to just above his knees. His face is lightly stubbled; he hasn’t bothered to shave yet today. Seeing this, Geralt isn’t sure whether to be irked or charmed by how informally the man comports himself.

“There you are,” Jaskier sighs happily, tilting his head and fixing Geralt with a wide smile. “Breakfast?” As Geralt steps stiffly aside to let him in, he nudges past him and into the loft, humming, “Well, I suppose it’s more like lunch, but never mind that. How are you today?” Bending over, he places the tray on the little table, then straightens and glances over his shoulder at Geralt.

Above Jaskier’s house was a small attic studio. It was painted a mellow sky blue inside, with white moulding, furniture, and decorations. It consisted of one room divided into two parts. First, there was a sitting area on a white tiled floor, with wicker chairs and a wicker table with a clear glass top. On a shelf below a windowsill there was an electric kettle and a box of rather rumpled looking tea sachets in their paper envelopes. Mugs were visible on the lower tier, stored neatly upside-down. Behind a half-wall, there was a sleeping area with a twin-size bed and two small dressers emblazoned on the sides with painted cornflowers. By the dusty, empty smell, no one had been up here in some time. There was a bathroom in the corner, with a full sized bathtub and a little sink above which a white mirror hung with makeup lights sat. There was only one entry, a simple white door that led to a steep staircase wrapping around the outside of the blue house and terminating in the driveway.

The light in the room turns to grey, dim fingers of it penetrating through the windows to caress the simple wicker decorations on the low half-wall separating the sleeping area from the main room. In the bed, Geralt breathes deeply, head lolling awkwardly where it rests halfway on his pillow, his injured hand resting on his chest.

By the time he had arrived here last night, he had barely been able to hear Jaskier explain the little apartment over the roar of exhaustion in his ears. He had fallen into bed, fully dressed save for his boots, and had moved only once during the night to pull the creamy blue and white duvet over himself when the temperature had finally dropped. He had barely even managed to get his head on the pillow.

Now the temperature creeps back up again as the dawn light warms, turning a rich buttery color as the sun comes up over the horizon. Geralt’s eyes flicker open, habit and light conspiring to rouse him from slumber. He glances around, disoriented, then closes his eyes again quickly. The blue and white room is frighteningly unfamiliar, friendly colors and new smells crushing up against him as he begins to wake. It stirs half-remembered guilt and shame, burning feelings that he would much rather escape. Dimly realizing that he is no longer on a schedule and doesn’t have to wake, Geralt heaves a heavy sigh. Rolling over, he puts his arm over his head and curls softly under the covers. His arm blocks out the light and he retreats into the warm hollow that his body has made in the blankets. With a yawn, he drifts back to sleep.

This process repeats several times, until the room is bright and hot and Geralt’s bladder is achingly full. Each time the guilt and the shame press harder, a growing static that gnaws at him even in his sleep. Finally he is forced to open his eyes. As he lays there with his arm over his face, squinting out at the hot light of the attic, he hears a stereo turn on below him. It’s muffled, too quiet to pick out the words, but the beat is happy and strong. His heart speeds up and stutters as he tries to parse the addition of the music to his already overwhelmed senses, and his lips pull back to show his teeth as he growls in irritation. Sudden tension races along his arms, whipcord strong and hot as lightning. His hand lashes out, bandaged knuckles slamming into the wall before he can think. The world vanishes for a moment in a brief, hot flash of pain that whites his vision out.

The wall reverberates, and below, quiet footsteps pause. A moment later the stereo volume lowers, and the rhythmic sounds of daily living resume. Geralt shakes his head to try and clear the cottony feeling away, tries to shake off the stars exploding behind his eyes from the pain in his hand. Rolling, he staggers out of bed and cradles it to his chest as he limps towards the door he faintly remembers Jaskier indicating as the bathroom.

The little room is clean and quiet, with very little to say for itself aside from an empty towel ring and a plastic basket full of half-used toiletries sitting on a back shelf. As he passes the mirror he spots his stubbly reflection out of the corner of his eye and remembers that he needs to shave.

After relieving himself he retreats to his backpack. Squatting down, he eyes the khaki sack critically, bracing himself to confront the contents within. His mouth tastes like ashes as he reaches out and tugs open the zipper. The discharge papers tumble out, pages upon pages of his career on trial sifting to the carpet like dead leaves. Pages of reminders of what he has lost. He can feel his face go numb first, then his tongue, a wave travelling outwards until it robs even his feet of sensation.

His eyes go blank as he paws automatically through the rest of the sack, retrieving his last pair of clean fatigues, his socks, underwear, straight razor, and soap. He sets these aside jerkily on one of the dressers, then turns and kneels, gathering the papers back into the folder. His movements are sloppy and disjointed as he fumbles the papers together, scanning them without reading them, placing them back in order on autopilot. Then he shoves the folder under the bed, right next to the sack, and straightens. Below him there is still the faint sound of music, and someone’s voice, presumably Jaskier’s, breaks out into a muffled song. In a fog, he grabs his things off of the dresser and heads for the shower.

After he is clean he gets out, dressing himself. The music has stopped by now, and the bathroom has descended into dripping silence. The soggy bandage is still on his hand, but he’s not ready to confront it yet. Instead, he takes his dirty shirt to the mirror, scrubbing some of the steam away. He eyes his reflection critically, then the makeup bulbs, giving them a puzzled grimace. Turning, he retrieves his shaving implements from the shelf next to the plastic basket, coming back to the mirror only reluctantly. The last of the fog from his shower is beginning to clear, and he eyes his reflection uneasily.

His white hair is shaved short, too short to be mussed by sleep and showering. He has a handsome face. It is pale, with high cheekbones, a square jaw, and lips that have a surprisingly lovely cupid’s bow. Under his wide amber eyes there are shadows though, dark and hollow. The lines of care in his face are graven deeper than usual, darkened by stress and tight with pain. His heart aches as he tries to meet his own gaze, finds that his stomach churns when he tries. Worse, his face is littered with white stubble, making him look grizzled and unkempt. Untrustworthy looking, he decides; undesirable. Still, he realizes as he gingerly flexes his injured hand, there is no way he can safely shave with his straight razor. With a disgruntled sigh, he tosses the shirt back onto the toilet and begins to clean up after himself.

By the time he is done, there is a tentative knocking on the outside door. Feeling his whole body contract with sudden tension, he stops dead in his tracks halfway out of the bathroom. The rest of the little loft is suffused with light and warmth, a peaceful heat that sinks deep into his bones. He stares about the little room, searching for answers as he tries to figure out how to react.

Geralt is still standing in the doorway, studying the other man with quiet intensity. While he’s been around civilians before, he’s never seen one quite like Jaskier up close, never seen a man so perfectly comfortable in his softness. It makes him want to bark at the man to fuck off, it makes him want to run away… it makes him want to sit and eat and never stop looking at him, ever again. He clears his throat as he feels Jaskier’s gaze upon him, closing the door with a little soft ‘thump’ that he half-feels, half-hears.

Jaskier turns and sits himself down in one of the wicker chairs, gesturing an invitation at the other one. Giving the chair a long stare, Geralt weighs his options. He is right next to the door; all he has to do is turn and walk away. It’s not like he needs anything in his backpack, not really. Even the documentation proving his identity is practically worthless now, and what isn’t, he can eventually replace.

As if sensing Geralt’s thought process, Jaskier carefully picks up his coffee cup and leans back in the chair, fixing him with a gentle but frank look. “Breakfast makes vanishing into the wild blue yonder a little easier, Geralt. At least have a bite before you go?”

Geralt fixes the younger man with a look of guarded astonishment. His injured hand twitches on the doorknob, then slides down to rest at his side. It gives a dull throb, but he crams the pain down, ignoring it with practiced skill. Rumbling doubtfully, he rocks back and forth once on his sock feet before tentatively advancing towards the empty chair. His ears burn as he realizes that he is so disoriented that he was genuinely about to run out the door without his shoes, and subsides into the chair across from Jaskier with a sheepish grimace.

“There, now,” Jaskier says, pleased, and pushes the coffee towards Geralt. Geralt takes it gratefully, humming with pleasure as he picks the warm cup up gingerly in his left hand. He leans his elbows on his thighs and blows on it, feeling the pleasure of the warm steam and rich scent playing across his lips. Unlike the coffee available on base, this smells lively and rich. He takes a tentative sip and raises his eyebrows, impressed. Jaskier beams and pushes the sandwich towards him, too.

Geralt tentatively tugs the sandwich towards himself with his bandaged hand, cradling the coffee mug in the other. Jaskier’s eyes flicker as he grimaces in pain, his gaze dropping to the soggy bandage that Geralt is still wearing.

A little furrow appears between his brows, but instead of addressing the pain Geralt is obviously in, he says, “Normally at this time of day today I’m off at work, but luckily for us, I have the day off.” He fixes Geralt with a sunny smile, picking up his bagel and taking a bite out of it. “Which means I’m at your disposal for the rest of the afternoon.”

“Day job?” Geralt inquires, his voice thick and a little hoarse. He grimaces again and takes a swig of coffee to clear his throat.

Jaskier nods pleasantly, chewing. He watches Geralt’s sore hand out of the corner of his eye thoughtfully as he continues, “Mmhm! I’m an adjunct professor at the college a few blocks from here, get to ride my bike to work on nice days. It’s summer so it’s only office hours and faculty meetings once a week right now, but in fall it picks up.”

Geralt tilts his head to the side, considering this information, trying to conceal his surprise. “What do you teach?” he asks, after a moment, then picks up his bagel and takes a bite. There’s ham on it, lettuce, tomato, cheese, even a fried egg. The mayonnaise has hints of garlic and rosemary, sharp and delicious. Probably not store made, then. Impressed despite himself, he eyes the sandwich, then Jaskier.

“Medieval music theory!” Jaskier proclaims, eyes twinkling. “Terribly arcane, I’m afraid, but I simply fell in love with it as a young man, and now here I am.” He sips his coffee and licks a drop of it off of his lower lip reflectively. “At least it helps pay the bills. Worse things could be said for a passion.” Shrugging, he sets the cup back down and takes another bite of his sandwich. “Do you have any plans for the day?” Despite himself, he finds his eye straying back to Geralt’s bad hand, watching with concern as the other man painfully cradles his bagel.

“No.” Geralt replies shortly, taking another bite of his sandwich. Now that he’s started eating, he can finally feel how hungry he is, and he makes short work of the food.

Jaskier watches in fascination as the bagel vanishes in only three or four big bites. Geralt finishes by unceremoniously draining his coffee cup. Jaskier searches for something to say, settling on, “Well then. Let’s at least take another look at that hand of yours, darling. I have a first aid kit downstairs.” He puts his half-eaten sandwich back on the tray, along with his empty coffee mug, and stands. “I’ll meet you down there. Do you remember where the front door is?”

“Yes,” Geralt says, who doesn’t remember anything of the sort. He was far too tired to remember what his name was last night, much less the exact location of the front door of the house. He figures it won’t be hard to find, though, and he is desperate for an excuse to be alone for just another moment while he tries to collect himself. Jaskier nods and heads for the door, beginning to fumble with the tray in an attempt to get the doorknob. Standing hurriedly, he steps around him and pulls the door open. It puts him face to face with the smaller man, and when Jaskier turns another thousand-watt smile on him, he feels like the floor has dropped out from under him, leaving him in free-fall.

Jaskier studies Geralt’s face for a moment, kind blue eyes tracing the contours of his scarred cheeks and square jaw. He lingers briefly on his lips, chapped and cracked from dehydration and stress. A quick sad expression flits across his face, and he turns away. “All right then, I’ll see you in a moment Geralt.” As he turns and exits, the tension humming between them snaps and dissipates, leaving the air of the attic feeling oddly empty in its wake.

Geralt closes the door behind him as he leaves, slow and soft, like he half doesn’t want to shut it. He steps back from the door bewildered, feeling his hand pulse and ache with the sudden pounding of his heart. Reluctantly, he glances down at it. The bandage is beginning to dry again, a stiff, disgusting brown from where the blood has soaked into the gauze. His hand itself is swollen and red, far worse than it was yesterday. Running his eyes across it, his lips pull back in a grimace as he notes the mangled skin peeking out from the place where the bandage has come loose. He would take care of it himself, Jaskier be damned, except that he doesn’t have any medical supplies. Deep down, he knows that an infection isn’t worth his pride.

After a further moment of delay, he returns to the bedside and sits next to his wet towel, staring at his tan leather boots. They are worn but well-cared for, stained, a little thin around the heels on the inside. He ponders how to get them on, as his hand is becoming stiffer by the moment. The pain is growing from a distant misty throb to a full blown, gnawing ache, which makes it difficult to think properly. Gritting his teeth, he decides to just grab them in his good hand and shove them on. The laces he pulls carefully tight. He fumbles with them for a long moment, trying to tie them, but his injured hand is so stiff that he can’t manage proper knots. Grumbling with frustration, he shoves the laces into the top of his boots and stands.

He looks around for the keys to the attic, spotting them on top of one of the dressers where he tossed them the night before. Those go into his pocket before he heads for the door. But, as he reaches it, he stops. His heart constricts in his chest as he hovers there, feeling the weight of his vulnerability pressing down on him. The idea of going into yet another new setting, of sitting across from that unbelievably kind man and letting him touch his hurting hand, is too much to handle. He feels like the oxygen is going out of the room as he stands there with his fingers on the doorknob, unable to move forward, unable to retreat. The room fades into a blurry blue and white impression as he begins to pant, lips numbly tingling. He steps back from the door instinctively, staggering to one of the wicker chairs and sinking into it.

Time swims as he hunches in the chair, awkwardly pulling his hand in close to his chest and huffing short breaths. Shame sweeps up his body, his posture collapsing as he tries to fight his way out of the panic. When he was young this never happened to him, but recently it had been coming on more and more frequently. He begins quietly, subtly rocking in the chair, pressing his face into his arm. The warmth of it is grounding, the smell of his skin bringing him slowly back into himself. In the end, he stills, leaning back into the chair with a heavy sigh as the tension in his body begins to run out. A fuzzy haze settles over him, and he closes his eyes as the numbness sweeps up and blankets him in darkness.

He becomes dimly aware of footsteps on the stairs some time later. Stirring, he sits slowly up in the chair, gold eyes focusing on the door as the footsteps come closer. The tall shadow of Jaskier shows through the curtains again, and he hears a gentle knock. “Geralt? Is everything ok?”

It is not ok, but Geralt doesn’t know how to say that, so instead he calls thickly, “M’fine. Got distracted.” Outside, Jaskier is silent for a moment. Then he says, “I brought my first aid kit upstairs. Would you mind terribly if I came in and looked at your hand?”

Geralt sits stiffly, hand cradled along his collarbone, feeling uneasy and a little trapped. Even his closest friends had rarely treated him with such persistent kindness; had rarely needed to. He was not a person who made himself vulnerable easily, and had gone to great lengths to keep his distance from anyone who might see him that way. On one level, he knew that accepting the man’s kindness was fine. Sensible, even. On the other, all he wanted to do was run until he found someplace dark and quiet to hide and never emerge from, ever again.

Outside, Jaskier sighs. “Geralt, are you sure you’re okay?” His voice carries a little worried note in it this time that makes Geralt flinch.

Geralt is tempted to lie again. It comes right to his lips, but stutters and stops before he can speak it as he watches the little movements of the man outside. Feeling oddly light, he stands to walk across the room and opens the door. He steps aside and looks down into Jaskier’s uncertain face, his own expression unreadable, then gestures shortly for him to enter.

Jaskier does so without argument, ducking inside before the ex-soldier has a chance to close the door on him again. He places the first aid kit on the little glass table and sits, making himself smaller immediately, and Geralt feels himself relax. Seated, the man looks softer, less demanding. He notices that his face is cleaner, too, all the stubble shaved away. Geralt’s bright gaze rakes over him sitting in the wicker chair, taking in the gentleness of his posture, the frank kindness that he regards him with. Stomach still churning uneasily, Geralt notices that he is nevertheless warmed by the gaze fixed on him. He feels his own face soften from a glare into an expression of uncertainty, eyes flicking between Jaskier and the empty chair.

Jaskier makes no movement whatsoever, his body language quiet and gentle as he continues to watch Geralt in the doorway. He can feel the man’s hot golden gaze searing across him, feels the weight of his attention as he considers what to do. He is hummingly aware of how dangerous the tall man looks, his toned body alert beneath his fatigues. Despite that, he finds that he is unafraid. He slowly leans back, sweeping his hand towards the first aid kit.

“I won’t touch you if you don’t want help. I just thought you might need this.” He feels his heart constrict a little in his chest as the man obviously relaxes, uncertain expression easing. All he wants to do is stand and push the man into the chair, to lavish him with gentle affection, but he gets the sense that this could cause the man to shut down or worse, lash out. So he holds still, exquisitely still, allowing Geralt to come to his own conclusions.

Geralt relaxes as Jaskier leans back, offering him the first aid kit. He feels by turns ashamed and relieved, his throat tight and his cheeks burning. Flexing his good hand slowly, he pushes at the numbness that is trapping him, urging it to abate. Feeling begins to return to the tip of his tongue, his lips, slowly spreading until he finds himself able to move freely again. Clearing his throat, he walks to the empty wicker chair and sits without further comment. Rummaging through the first aid supplies, he pulls out what he needs in silence.

Jaskier watches as the man bends to the task of caring for his hand. When he peels the bandage off, he leans over to the side and grabs a small wastebasket from near the tea shelf. He extends the basket to Geralt, and Geralt flicks his gaze briefly to him, nodding an acknowledgement as he tosses the bandage into the bin. Then he begins to methodically clean his wounds, face tight and wooden as he wipes them clean with cotton balls soaked in soothing antiseptic.

Jaskier inspects the wounded hand from a distance as he does so, finally able to get a clear look at it for the first time since yesterday afternoon. The skin is raw and ugly around the knuckles, pitted from the impacts with the tree. His fingers are curled thickly inward, held in place by the swelling that makes his whole hand look angry and bruised. There is a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach as Jaskier realizes that these are no mere abrasions that he’s looking at. Not anymore, at least; unless he’s missed his guess, Geralt’s hand looks broken.

Silence stretches as Geralt cleans, wraps, and tapes his hand. Then, he looks up and flicks his eyes to Jaskier’s for just a moment before cutting off to the side. “I need a hospital for this,” he rumbles, his deep voice cutting through the silence.

Jaskier’s thinned lips pull into a grimace of dismay and he nods, unsurprised. “There’s a hospital not far away from here. I can drive you.”

#ahh fuck writes #ahh-fuck writes #geralt #jaskier #modern au #witcher modern au #witcher gay bar au #witcher modern gay bar au #witcher au #the witcher au #geraskier #geraskier fic #geraskier au #geralt x jaskier #geralt/jaskier #pride #geraskier pride week 2020 #geraskier pride #modern gay bar au

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xxisxxisxxis · 4 years

Text

Gateway Drug | Part Thirty-Nine

Table of Content or Part Thirty-Eight

Read here on wattpad

Word count: 4K

Warning(s): Explicit language, Drug abuse

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PMRC DEMANDS CENSORSHIP, DEVELOPES A LIST OF THE "FILTHY 15."

1. Prince, "Darling Nikki", flagged for sex/masturbation

2. Sheena Easton, "Sugar Walls", flagged for sex

3. Judas Priest, "Eat Me Alive", flagged for Sex/Violence

4. Vanity, "Strap On Robbie Baby", flagged for sex

5. Mötley Crüe, "Bastard", flagged for violence/language

6. AC/DC, "Let Me Put My Love Into You", flagged for sex

7. Twisted Sister, "We're Not Gonna Take It", flagged for violence

8. Madonna, "Dress You Up", flagged for sex

9. W.A.S.P., "Animal (Fuck Like a Beast)", flagged for sex/language/violence

10. Def Leppard, "High 'n' Dry (Saturday Night)", flagged for drug/alcohol use

11. Mercyful Fate, "Into the Coven", flagged for occult themes

12. Black Sabbath, "Trashed", flagged for drug/alcohol use

13. Mary Jane Girls, "In My House", flagged for sex

14. Venom, "Possessed", flagged for occult themes

15. Cyndi Lauper, "She Bop", flagged for sex/masturbation

Tipper freaking Gore, the wife of the senator at the time, Al Gore, and bunch of other political housewives got their panties in a twist in 1985 and decided to demand artists either censor themselves when creating music, leaving no room for even the slightest hint at sex, drugs, alcohol, satanism, occultism, violence, language, or anything else almost every artist uses one of to express themselves in their music.

When musicians across the board practically told Tipper, the other wives, and everyone else that called themselves a member of the Parents Music Resource Center, to go fuck themselves, they decided to slap censorship stickers on records that contained any of the mentioned offenses.

Even John Denver got hit with censorship for his song "Rocky Mountain High."

It didn't shock me when my mother was photographed with Tipper after attending one of the hearings.

Mötley was invited to a hearing to defend their content and speak their opinions with a handful of others being censored, but they never batted an eye when the news first came out because they knew having an "X" or "XX" or "XXX" rating for violence, language, sex, drugs, alcohol, etc. would only make kids buy the record more. And it did.

"It's bullshit." I state, tossing the news paper article aside.

"It's politics." Fred replies taking a bite of his bagel.

"These womens' sex lives must be atrocious or else they'd be spending more time on their husbands' dicks and less time on these people's." I motion to the article with the list on it.

"Babe--"

"If these polotical lunatics spent as much energy taking care of their own damn kids, as they're spending attempting to villainize artists who're expressing themselves, they would realize that it's not Mötley Crüe's or anyone else's job to raise their children. If you're so scared of your kids trying all this stuff, have a conversation with them about it and tell them about it, honestly, instead of relying on the music they listen to, to properly teach them about it. And at the end of the day, they're gonna buy the record whether their parents want them to or not, and they're going to try all kinds of stuff, no matter who talks to them about it, if they really want to try it." I continue my rant, Fred, Doc, Nikki, Vince, Tommy and Mick all looking at me, waiting for me to be done.

"Are you done, Sister Christian?" Vince asks me and I glare at him.

"Viv, it's publicity. Who gives a fuck?" Nikki asks me. "The kids are gonna go for the nastiest rated album anyway. The more 'X's the better."

"Yeah, but the audacity of--" Tommy's teaching his hand around my shoulder and covering my mouth before I can continue and I look at him where he's beside me.

"I've got a headache. I'm hungover, Viv. I love you, but I don't need to hear a Vivian Bitch Fit right now." Tommy explains to me.

I just look at him like he's lost his mind for shutting me up, and he cautiously moves his hand away.

I give him a ten second reprieve before shouting, at the top of my lungs:

"The audacity of these people pisses me off!" I finish what I was going to say and Tommy and Nikki are both jumping out of their seats a little at the sudden shouting, covering their ears, wincing, before Nikki's looking at me, sharply.

I roll my eyes at him and he grabs roughly at my thigh under the table, uncomfortably sinking the tips of his fingers into my flesh.

Ignoring him, I take a sip of my coffee, as he glances around and stands up.

"I gotta piss." He tells us, but I know why he's going to the bathroom.

I wait for him to disappear past the "Men's Room" sign in the Denny's before I get up and follow after him.

I walk in, catching the tail end of him snorting a line, and I cross my arms, waiting outside of the stall he's in.

I hear the familiar "click" of a needle being uncapped.

"Nikki. It's 10:00 in the morning." I tell him.

"Fuck off."

"Nikki."

"Fuck off."

"Nikk--"

"Fuck off."

"Make me."

I wait for him to come out of the stall and do what I dared him to, but I just hear the sound of him sighing out in relief as opiate hits his system, drowning out whatever argument we were about to get into.

When he didn't want to hear me complain or try to talk him out of stuff, he would run to his favorite room in his mind: his heroin den.

If we were at home, he'd lock himself in the closet, with me begging him to come out.

He'd open the door for me right before passing out so he could at least say he tried.

If we were in public or at a hotel, he'd lock himself in the bathroom and do the same thing.

The sound of vomit smattering the floor has me wincing as he mumbles "fuck it" and opens the stall door, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Don't fuckin' give me that hit dog look." He tells me, moving past me to the sink, splashing some water on his face, smearing his already smeared eyeliner that makes him look like a raccoon that's been digging around in a dumpster.

"I'm not giving you any kind of look." I mumble, forcing him to look at me as I wet a paper towel and wipe his black-coated eyelids clean.

The smell of his vomit infiltrates my nostrils and I throw the paper towel away before pulling at his wrist to leave.

Being that he's perfected his magical potion, he isn't too jittery from the coke or nodding off from the heroin.

He's just quiet.

We leave Denny's and head straight to the airport to head back home, being they wrapped up the last show of the U.S. tour last night.

Next is Europe.

Once we land in L.A., Christmas music blares through the speakers of the airport and reminds me that it's already nearing the end of December.

Apparently Vince is reading my mind because he mumbles, "apparently time flies when you're in hell."

Amen, Vince. A-fucking-men.

The second Nikki and I get into the limo to take us to our house, he's busting out a vile of blow that's nearly empty.

"Fuck, I gotta get Jason over, asap." He tells himself and I rub my lips together.

"You know, we haven't even bought a Christmas tree since we've been married." I tell him, trying to distract myself from his previous comment.

"Yeah." He says, basically blowing me off and I reach the toe of my sneaker out and nudge him on the kneecap as he gets the tip of our house key and scoops some from the bindle, snorting a bump.

"Babe." I continue to tap his kneecap until he's got his hand around my ankle, loosely, stopping me.

"What, Viv?"

"What did I just say?" I ask him, crossing my arms.

He just blinks at me, smirking a little.

"I'll gladly tell you when I finish this." He holds the bindle up.

I lean forward and take it from him, holding it hostage when he attempts to take it.

"You'll get it back when I get a Christmas tree." I tell him, raising my brows.

"Are you fucking me right now?" He asks, chuckling, not thinking I'm serious.

"No...but now that you mention it, I want that, too. Then you can get it back." I add and he smirks.

By the time we get to a department store, get my clothes back on and his pants zipped back up, grab an artificial tree, lights and ornaments, and finally get to the house, it's nearly one in the morning.

"Okay, Saint Vivian, gimme my shit back." Nikki states, carrying the boxed up tree while I carry the bags of lights and ornaments.

"Put the tree up so I can decorate it and I will." I reply.

"That wasn't apart of the deal." He argues, his tone still light.

"Well now it is." I reply.

"That's cheating."

"I made the deal. I make the rules." I shrug.

"You're making me work for something that's already mine." His free hand pulls at my waist, turning me to him and I grin mischievously as he shakes his head a little. "That's it, Sixx." He tells me before crouching enough to wrap his arm around my thighs and throw me over his shoulder.

I laugh manically, partially out of fear that he'll drop me, but also because this is the Nikki I fell in love with.

Playful, lighthearted, aggravating but meaning well, Nikki.

He manages to dig his house key out again and unlock the door before stepping in and turning on the lights in the foyer.

"Baby, put the bags down for now." He tells me and I drop them as carefully as I can while he puts the box the tree is in, down.

He's walking us to the living room, laughing when he pretends to trip and I gasp, digging my nails into him like a cat holding onto its owner to avoid a bathtub full of water.

When he flips the next light on, he stops immediately.

My mind is in shambles for a moment as I try to put together why so many people are in my house once Nikki's nearly dropping me out of shock, not even hearing them all scream out, "surprise!"

Steven and Tansy are at the forefront of people as the explosion of glitter, a mixture of neon and pastel decor, an abundance of various alcohol options, scantily clad women, a handful of Nikki's friends he hangs out with outside of Mötley Crüe, and a big ass, two-tier cake with every curse word known to man written in pristine is cursive font on the sides of it is soaked in by mine and Nikki's eyes.

Steven's wearing a beer hat, smiling widely, while Tansy looks like a sallow Barbie doll, but she's still forcing out a grin for the sake of us, and everyone's waiting for mine and Nikki's reactions.

Nikki and I exchange looks, confused as ever.

"Why is it a surprise?" I finally ask, deciding it's best if I ask instead of Nikki, because all he wanted to do was come in, shoot up, have a few lines, fuck around with me some more, and pass out.

But instead he's being forced to socialize in his own house.

His safe place has been infested.

Steven and Tansy seem horrified that we don't understand the reason for the apparent party.

"...Because it's your birthday?" Tansy reminds me.

"And Nikki's was a couple weeks ago, but he wasn't here to celebrate it." Steven adds, his smile is long gone, his eyes focused on Nikki who looks like he could kill someone right now.

"Oh, right!" I pretend that I know that it's my birthday today, and everyone seems to let out a breath of relief. "It's been a long day." I explain, stepping to the two blondes, hugging them both tightly. "Thank you so much."

While everyone else starts going on with the party, music starting to blare throughout the house on the stereo speakers, cracking open beer, whiskey, and vodka, as girls strip down to bikinis to go swimming, Nikki's still standing at the door, the look on his face is a mixture or pissed off, disappointed, and "I need another dose."

"Babe." I say gently to grab his attention, hazel eyes looking to me as a jaw tightens. "C'mon, just for a couple hours."

"I'll be right back." He tells me, shoving through people to get to our bedroom.

I brush off his attitude the second I feel hands on my shoulders, squeezing them a little and I snap around to meet Duff's chest.

"Hey, birthday girl." He greets me cooly, and I'm hugging him before I can stop myself.

Something wet falls on my hand when I pull away, and just as I'm about to look around for whatever it was, his fingers that are sticking out of leather gloves that just cover his palms, are brushing at my face.

"What's up?" He asks me, furrowing his brows a little.

What is up? Why the hell are you crying?

"I-I'm happy." Is all I can say, chuckling, wiping more tears.

He knew it was bullshit. I was happy, sure. Happy to get the fuck off the road. Happy to get a break from Nikki and Tommy harassing Vince. Happy to get away from Doc's constant pressing for more tour dates to milk as much money as possible. Happy to be able to hangout with balls of optimism and sunshine like Duff and Steven and have Slash show me his pet snakes like he'd been meaning to, and for Izzy to tell me what music I should have been listening to, and for Axl to go on and on about Tansy but then completely deny he was interested in her because he was too much of a dork to just ask her out.

"I'll be right back, alright?" I tell Duff, looking around to see Nikki's nowhere to be seen.

"Okay." He tells me, swigging from a bottle of vodka.

I thread through people who tell me "happy birthday" and I thank each of them, genuinely, before opening up the bedroom door, and shutting it behind me, stepping to our bathroom.

"Baby?" I ask, seeing Nikki standing at the mirror, teasing his hair some more. "I had no idea they would do this." I tell him.

"I had no fucking idea it was even your birthday, apparently." He grumbles. "Shows how much I care, right? Husband of the year. Something else to be hung over my head anytime we get into a fight."

"Hey, I didn't even know it was my birthday. The guys didn't either. You've all been busy and working hard and tired. I'm not going to hold this over you, Nikki." I assure him, fixing a piece of his hair for him.

I didn't realize his pride was so hurt by the gesture Steven and Tansy made.

I found out later it was Duff who brought up the idea to Tansy, who recruited the Ken to her Barbie: Steven, to help her orchestrate it.

That was another indication to Nikki that he needed to slow down, forgetting his own wife's birthday, but he didn't listen to it a bit.

"I really don't want to do this shit, Vivian." He tells me, rubbing his eyes.

"And I do?"

"They're your friends." He sighs.

"What's mine is your's." I say as I kiss his cheek and he groans.

"You owe me." He tells me as I step out of the bathroom. "Matter of fact, I want my coke back."

"Um, I can't hear you, babe. I'm sure I will when these people leave." I tell him.

"Viv--"

"I-I think you're breaking up, I'll talk to you later." I keep going, walking to the bedroom door.

"I'll break something up when these people get the fuck outta my house!" He calls back and I shut the door behind me.

The night goes on as people play beer pong on the dining room table, dance on whatever and whoever they can, snort lines off any flat surface available, and chug whatever is in their cups, drowning pain and becoming oblivious.

I hate to break it to Nikki, but I don't want these people driving in their condition, so they'll have to stay here tonight or call cabs.

After a few hours, people are either pairing off or grouping off to go get laid, passed out, or too high to function properly and are just chilling out.

Steven's observing his work, drinking from his beer cans perched in his hat when I approach him, looking for Duff.

"Have you seen Duff?" I say over the music and he nods.

"Yeah, I think he's by the pool." He tells me.

"The pool?"

"Yep."

I furrow my brows, stepping to the French doors leading outside, seeing Duff and Tansy sitting down on the pool deck, talking

"Is he pissed?" She asks me, referring to Nikki, after I sit next to her.

"I would say go see for yourself but I don't want to toss you into the lion's den." I admit. "He hasn't come out all night."

"I'll go talk to him." She says. "If he's mean to me I'll just cry and make him feel bad like I do to Vince."

Duff and I exchange looks at her confident words before she's walking away in her neon pink bikini.

"Everyone calming down?" Duff asks in a slur, and I nod, glancing through the doors to look at the guests for a few seconds. "How does it feel to be twenty-two?" He adds, rubbing his nose and I raise my brows a little, glancing at the bottle of vodka he's been working on all night.

"It's weird." I mumble. "I was a senior in high school five years ago." The reality hits me and he raises his brows. "God, I'm old."

"You were seventeen your senior year?"

"In pre-k my teacher decided I was too smart for the class and vouched for me to be moved up to kindergarten, and it didn't take my kindergarten teacher long to convince the principle of the elementary school to let me start in the first grade since they hadn't really started in on their curriculum for the year." I explain.

"I couldn't even meet the basic requirements of alternative school." He tells me.

"You're a freaking genius, you just didn't apply yourself." I tell him and he shrugs.

"I had more important things to get done.

"I guess you did." I agree, gently scoring the bottle of alcohol away from him.

"I know you're tired of me saying this, but, Viv, you gotta get back to dancing."

"Yeah?" I ask.

"Yeah. I mean, imagine me giving up music for someone I'm in a relationship with so I can hold their hand or fucking babysit them or whatever. I mean, sure it shows I love them a lot, but it would just make who ever I was with look like a fucking bitch. And I've talked to Nikki before and he told me he didn't want you to quit dance and he wanted you to go to school." He explains. "Why didn't you?"

"I had more important things to get done." I repeat him.

"I don't know if you're selfless sometimes, or just not thinking." He says, before his face suddenly falls. "I sound like an asshole right now, I'm sorry." He apologizes and I shake my head.

"I'm not upset, I know what you mean." I assure him.

"Okay." He rubs his eyes again like a sleepy child.

"Do you need me to help you to bed?" I offer and he waves his hand at me a couple times.

"No, no, I got it." He assures me, standing up.

He nearly falls over.

"Yeah, I'm sure you do." I comment, helping him inside as he apologizes.

"I'm sorry I'm being out of hand right now, Viv, I don't get like this every night." He tells me as I open our guest bedroom and thank God nobody's in here, although it's obvious someone has been screwed to oblivion on the bed.

I just throw the blanket on the edge of the bed over the mattress and help him lay down.

"Thank you." He says as I pull his boots off and set them nice and neat on the floor at the foot of his bed.

"You're welcome." I reply, setting the garbage can beside him incase he needs it. "Goodnight."

I'm about to leave, but his hand gently grasps at my hand, stopping me.

"What is it?" I ask him.

"I'm really glad we met and we're friends, Viv." He tells me, grasping my hand in his like I'm going to walk out anyway and not listen to what he's got to say.

"I am, too, Duff." I say back, smiling a little. "Sleep tight, okay?"

"Yeah." He nods his head.

"Alright, goodnight."

I go to kiss him "goodnight" on the cheek, but my entire system and body locks up the second he misreads my intentions, and kisses me.

This sounds so counteractive to who I am now and what I stand for currently, and it was ignorant of me to think such a way back then, when so many people close to me were heavily affected, some of them even dying, by drugs and alcohol...but I use to wish I liked alcohol or drugs, or even felt drawn to them.

By '87 I'd had several miscarriages, my marriage was hanging by a thread after only being married for four years, I was having an identity crisis and my entire world was seeming to fall apart and it became routine to buy a bottle of vodka or whiskey, or pills, or blow and just stare at it--trying to convince myself to go for it--for an hour before pouring it out or flushing it.

The people around me, which by that point was mainly Duff and his band, started to pick up on this struggle I had. And although they knew I had to be in some kind of extreme pain to be considering reaching such lows, they carried an "if you don't laugh about it, you'll cry" method of pulling me out of such spells.

Anytime we would be hanging out and I'd opt to try something they were doing, they would call it the "Golden Question Game" because the "Golden Question" was always "is Vivian actually gonna do it this time?" and they wouldn't argue with me about it or try to stop me because they knew the answer would always be "no" even if I didn't think it would be.

I even made the reckless suggestion to try heroin, and got as far as Izzy getting it in the syringe for me, trying to explain to me how to shoot it, how to angle it, how to know I'd hit a vein, with Steven, Slash and Duff all waiting to see if I was that desperate for an escape.

Like everything else I would think about doing, I just sat on the floor next to Izzy and stared at the golden liquid in the syringe and thought, "who the fuck are you to get pissed and angry at Nikki and Tansy for their addiction to this shit, and how it's destroying them, and then turn around and do it yourself?"

I shot it into the air away from me, handed the empty syringe back Izzy, thanked him for letting me waste his time and dose of smack, went to the bathroom with Duff at my heels, and cried.

I never went through with any of it because I knew I would never, ever, come back from it.

I would've drank myself to death or drugged myself past the point of no return and would have ended up a statistic.

I just needed a new escape because my original high became a heroin addict, and December 23, 1985, had me realizing more about Duff than what I had noticed before: Vodka was a hell of a lot easier to be around than heroin.

#nikki sixx #vince neil #tommy lee #mötley crüe #the dirt #gateway drug

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jojoreadwhat · 4 years

Text

i didn't get much sleep last night, but that's alright. / honey & smoke - m.h. x OFC story

Warning: Drug use.

Lucy's POV.

The hem of my grey sweater roused above my skirt when I outstretched my arm. Placing a hardback onto the top shelf of the book case. The light dust dancing against the sun peering from the large windows.

It was a sunny Saturday morning at the library, restocking shelves and taking in the serenity of a now typical weekend for me. Watching a variation of students spending their time during my cover. I couldn't complain as the nostalgic thoughts of being back in New York came waltzing into my mind.

I had another thing invading my mind in the process. The recurrence of events from a few days ago.

When I kissed Matty.

I. With my own gut and feelings. Kissed Matty without him knowing it would happen. Took the plunge and not caring if would lead to good or bad. Believe it or not, it took a better turn than I had anticipated when his lips moved along with mine shortly after the big move. And I still seen him the next day. I've been containing the excitement and relief until now while I restocked books. Still feeling the lingering tingle that grazed my lips whenever I thought about it. Leaving a small smirk planted on my face.

"Someone is happy today." Matilda comment startling me from my thoughts. I nodded, "Yeah, I was just thinking about a joke told yesterday." Fibbing through my teeth, but she knew that it wasn't that in the slightest. "Mhmm," She replied, taking clipboard of the list of check outs placed back on the shelf. I realized her presence meant I'd be clocking soon.

Sooner than later, actually.

"Well I'm here and there's only a few students now studying." She announced, making a new pile of books. "You can head out earlier than scheduled."

I didn't waste time.Before leaving UNI I stopped by the school's cafe to see it had closed 20 minutes before. Defeated and feening for another coffee. I knew of nothing close, which gave me a good reason to head to the tube and into the city.

When I had stepped onto the platform and walked up the stairs from the underground. I was greeted with the sun and the rush of the weekenders. The same crazy amount of people that New York would've had on a day like this. Busy enjoying the day venturing the city but in different aspects architecturally and minus all the bright boards.

I pulled out my phone for a second to lead me to the nearest bookstore from where I stood. The first one listed was independently owned and had a small coffee shop inside. All traded and used books, I was completely floored and cozy here. I sat in one of the aisles, reading some Walt Whitman material, as recommended.

Spending majority of my afternoon in First Chapter Books. Weaving in and out of the other genres they offered. Soon my visit came to a close after two coffees and a mint edition purchase.

I took advantage of the time I had left, finding another coffee shop but for a bagel this time.. and another coffee of course. I then found myself in One World Thrift, trying on a few knit sweaters. Finding a cute backpack that had pretty embroidered florals all over it. The employee working there was so much help, bringing me more sweaters and wouldn't stop complimenting my scarf.

I was now heading back to the tube when I seen a sign above that read 'Rocket Records' shrugging to myself that one more store wouldn't hurt.

When I entered the place, it echoed sounds of earlier Death Cab For Cutie. It was dressed head to toe with records and posters along the walls. With a huge island of crates holding more records down the center of the room. Watching some people going through them. I was soon greeted from the counter before I moved further into the place and to the alternative section.

-----------------------------------

Matty's POV.

I hate getting stuck with backroom duties. Sorting out the new shipment we received earlier this morning. Watching all the cheesy new upcoming groups making their ways to our shelves. For all the hipster, Instagram obsessed teenagers could come in. Taking snap shots without buying and messing up our conversions. Sounds a bit narcissistic for being in a band that could hit shelves like these. I just always had my judgments of hitting it 'big' I guess.

Humming along to what the boss had playing and tagging everything. I was starting a new pile when Jimmy came in and asked if I could cover the front. I brought out what I had done so far, lots of restocks of yesterday's new releases. The place only had about four people nearby, two sets of couples.. until I spotted the one I couldn't stop thinking about.

Lucy was looking through the back. One hand occupied by a record she was reading, the other holding little bags. I smiled as I watched her cross her stocking covered ankles before she moved along.

"That's their best." I commented, watching her shoulders jolt from startling her. She looked over at me, before setting down the record. "A fan?" She replied, then. Turning to face me now, I shrugged at her question first, "Some what, but that's probably my favorite by far."

She nodded, taking into consideration the note. "What brings you here?" She asked, I chuckled. Waving the tag gun, watching her cheeks grow red. "I could ask the same." Smirking at her naivety.

We got to talking a little bit, she asked about how the day was going. Telling her how Jimmy was being a bloke and I couldn't help but smile as she chuckled at the nickname. She walked with me as I continued to tag a few more things, telling me about her findings and adventures. Soon it grew silent for a moment, but I could tell something was on her tip of her tongue.

"What are you doing later?" She asked, looking at the time on her watch before back at me. "I don't know," I replied, pausing from my work. "What did you have in mind?"

This was completely different coming from Lucy. I could tell she was a bit nervous about it, reading her face as she thought about it. It was adorable.

"Why don't you stop by? I could order a pizza, we could watch a movie?" She suggested, then. Searching my face for relief, I smiled. "Sounds perfect." I replied, "I'll see you around 7?" Making sure the timing was right.

Shortly then, Jimmy was asking for my assistance, but she nodded in time, "Okay." before I excused myself and I kissed her cheek.

Jimmy was trying to get me to stay late even with opening this morning. There was no way in hell. Luckily I fought that and was able to grab a pizza and wine before heading to Lucy's.

When I pulled up to her house, the windows were dark except for one upstairs.

Me: "Hey, still up for company and pizza?"

I texted Lucy, seeing that her phone must've went off when I seen a shadow pass the window.

Blue: "Of course, what's up?" She double texted, then.

Me: "Cool, cause the pizza is getting cold and so am I" I wrote back as I stood at her door. Hearing the commotion of her coming down the stairs and the locks clicking.

"Hey, I thought I was buying pizza?" She questioned, I shrugged. "I made a nice commission today. It's my treat" I explained, then. "I also brought wine." She just shook her head, "You and your wine." She stated, taking the bag off the box and moving to let me in.

I followed Lucy up the steps, Her long cardigan swaying with every bounce made onto the cricking wood. Little ways down the hall leading us to a door with a big Nirvana poster covering it.

"Sorry it's a bit messy." She announced before she opened and led me in.

Lucy had turned down the music from her turntable, placing the bag of wine on her nightstand before turning towards me. Her purple long cardigan hanging loosely against her small frame. Tightly bounded by her grey cami that exposed her new feather tattoo along her left collarbone.

I silently asked where to place the box before the curves of her black covered legs in tights began to fold under her on the bed. "Right here is fine." She smiled, taking the box from my hands as I followed suit. Kicking off my shoes and sitting pretzel legged across from her.

We ate a few slices among each other, taking subtle glances and smiling from time to time. I'd chuckle whenever she lost the running cheese that didn't want to stay on her slice. Watching her pick up with her fingers and savor it.

Afterwards, I stood up to open the bottle of wine. Taking a swig before I handed it to Lu. Fishing my pockets for my pack of fags with a few spliffs I saved.

Lucy was flipping the record, "Mind if I smoke?" Gesturing I'd open a window first. She shook her head before she took a double look at what I was going to smoke. "Is that a blunt?" She questioned, I nodded. "Is that okay?.." I spoke again.

"Yeah yeah, I was just wondering." She explained before going back to what she was doing. Leading me to believe, she's never smoked before. "Blue?" I said, "Hmm" She hummed.

"Have you ever?" I asked, she looked up at me again. She shook her head. "No, not for any reason. Just never got around to it."

I then brought the spliff to my lips, opening my zippo and lighting it before I took a drag.

"Here," I offered. She looked at me like I was crazy at first, but then took it between her fingers. "I'm not gonna like die or something, am I?" She joked, I just chuckled and shook my head. "It's great, I promise." I replied, watching her placing it on her lips and inhale. Like a natural.

I never thought I'd see Lucy intoxicated but it was the most cutest, most silliest thing (in a good way) I had ever witnessed. Filling the room with her sweet laugh against the smells of our own party. She was playing her favorite records, swaying around the little space she had in her room.

I sat on her bed, smoking a cigarette. Smiling, watching as she enjoyed herself. She caught me staring, smirking a bit before she moved closer till she stood in front of me. Her soft fingers placing themselves close to my lips. As she grabbed the cigarette hanging from them. Kissing them softly after.

I looked up at her and watched as she took a drag. Her lips puckered around the filter and her closed as she inhale. Admiring the smoke in eyes as she exhaled, my favorite thing of the night. Before she looked back down at me.

"Are you having a good time?" I asked, then. She nodded, placing the cigarette back on my lips. I took another drag before putting in the cup on the nightstand next to us.

When I brought my attention back, I noticed the pretty sparkle from the red ruby she wears everyday. Hanging against her pale complexion. I felt her watching me as my hand grazed her skin and I brought the pendant closer to see.

"This is beautiful." I commented, her reach over mine gently. "It was my mother's" She stated, the past pretense caught me off guard and I felt terrible. I looked back up at her, "I'm so sorry." I insisted, quietly. She just smiled, running her hand through my hair. "It's okay. It's kind of a long story, I'll explain it eventually." She went on, still smiling soft.

"Just first, dance with me." She said, then. The substances still inebriating her sense. I stood up towering over her as I moved her hands around my neck and mine met her waist.

Donna Lewis' "I Love You Always Forever" began playing throughout her room. We danced slow, my body molding into hers as she hugged me and brought her head to my chest. Continuing to sway and smell the lavender scent of her hair. It left us in a comfortable silence again, my mind wasn't so silent as we danced. I began to worry about where this would lead and how it would go. I wasn't scared but at the same time, I was. I had a reputation for ruining things, treating any opportunity of relationships like phases.

But as I thought about it, overthinking as any worrier does. I realized there wasn't anything to worry about. Specially when she looked at me the way she did.

"Matty?" She spoke up, softly. Bringing me back to the moment. We were still swaying, "hmm" I replied, then. Pausing as she adjusted herself to look up at me.

"Stay."

#the 1975 fanfiction #matty healy imagines #slutforbritdick #wattpadarchives

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jrctolkien · 5 years

Text

rosemary rolls - one

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

summary: working at a chili’s was the worst thing in the world. luckily, bucky barnes was one of the best things in the world.

Waking up had been a difficult feat that morning, and you had decided to go on a run to wake yourself up. God knows who put that idea into your head as it did absolutely nothing to help.

You were so tired from your run that morning, and still reeling from the sudden change of your hometown to the close-knit community you had recently moved to, that you stood in the quaint bakery you had found yourself in, shuffling forward until suddenly you were face-to-face with a pretty redhead wearing a striped apron and a jaunty paper cap. “Welcome to Frazier Bakery! What can we do to make you feel at home today?”

God, did you hate this corporate crap, even when you were child and hardly knew what it all was. You looked up at the menu board, scanning it. Coffee, muffins, breakfast paninis, smoothies, bagels. You looked back at the smoothie options, looking them over.

“Extra large Blueberry Banana Freeze.” you told her.

“Coming right up!”

She turned, walking over to a row of blenders, and you took another look around you. There were needlepoint samples on all the walls. LIFE’S TROUBLES ARE OFTEN SOOTHED BY HOT, MILKY DRINKS, read one by the sugar, milk, and cream station. Another one, over by the recycling bins, proclaimed WASTE NOT, WANT NOT. You wondered where they ordered them, and if you could get anything mass-embroidered and framed.

Once you got your smoothie, you went over and took a seat on a faux-leather chair in front of the faux-roaring fire. The title of the smoothie was right: after two sips on your straw, you had a headache so bad you could barely see straight. You put a hand on your forehead, as if that would warm things up, then closed your eyes, just as the front door bell chimed.

“Welcome to Frazier Bakery!!” one of the counter people yelled.

“Thank you!” a voice yelled back, and someone laughed. You were still rubbing your forehead when you heard footsteps, then, “y/n?”

You opened your eyes, and there was a familiar face. Of course it would be him. Who else would it be?

“Bucky.” You greeted coldly.

Bucky peered at you a little more closely. “You okay? You look like you’ve been-”

“It’s just a brain freeze,” You said, holding up the cup as evidence. “I’m fine.”

You could tell that he was not fully convinced, but thankfully, he didn’t push the issue. “What are you doing here? I didn’t know you were here, least of all a Friend of Frazier.”

“A what?”

“That’s what we call the regulars.” He waved at the redhead, who waved back. “Hold on, I’m just grabbing a Freaking Everything and a Procrastinator’s Special. Be back in a sec.”

You took another tentative sip of your smoothie, watching as Bucky walked over to the counter before ducking behind it. He said something to the redhead, who laughed, before grabbing a muffin out of the case and then poured himself a huge cup of coffee. He then pushed a few buttons on the till, slid in a fiver, and took some change out, which he deposited into the tip jar. After waving at the redhead, Bucky started back over to you.

Good lord, you thought, grant me strength. Before Bucky could begin talking again, you quickly stood up and dashed out the door to your car. She had been given to you by your mum when you were 16, and had been promptly named Super Shitty due to her, well, super shittiness.

Bucky was your friend back when the two of you were kids, inseparable. Then Steve had been rescued by Bucky from a fight in a back alley and all hell had broken loose. From the get-go, you didn’t get along with Steve: the two of you were constantly disagreeing and throwing shade n the opposite directions. After awhile, you had just stopped with Bucky, and you’d held a stupid grudge on the two until a couple months ago. If you were going to be living in the same small town as the two, you might as well try and get over your teenage years.

And now Bucky was a regular -or, as he dubbed it, a ‘Friend of Frazier’- at the only bakery that was en-route to your new place of work.

Thoughts of Bucky filled your head as you made your way to work. By the time you had arrived, your horrible drink had been finished and you had a stonking headache.

You had found the restaurant by accident, pulling into it’s car park to take a breather from the torrential rain. It was warm and inviting, with faded red walls and windows that let off the warm glow from inside.

Jobs were a rarity in this town, and you were on the hunt for one after moving into your shared home the previous month. Seemingly, the only places hiring were a stationary company and a loud, vibrant coffee shop. Neither of them interested you, nor did the measly pay they both offered.

You hadn’t decided to go into the shop looking for job, more looking for a space to have a nice coke in the warm. Luck was on your side that night, however, and you had immediately inquired about the 'Hiring!’ sign posted in the front door. After a couple days of waiting, you had received a call informing you of your start on Monday.

Anxiety flowed through your veins as you stepped into the restaurant. Being that it was only just past 9am, you weren’t surprised to see it as empty, sans a lone redhead sat at the bar with her face scrunched up.

“We’re shut.” She said after a few seconds, looking up at you. “Can’t you read?”

Eyes widening, you stammered, “Um, y-yes. I start today.”

With an almost silent sigh, the girl stood. “I’m Natasha from behind the bar.”

“Y/n.” You replied. “From down the road.”

Natasha’s eyes twinkled with what you assumed to be amusement before she motioned for you to follow her. “You’ll probably be waiting, but will undoubtedly have to work bar some days. Tips of the trade, mama: do not use the ice dispenser, get it from the freezer that stores the ice pops. The dispenser will turn off the electricity. Pepper’s looking into it but corporate doesn’t have enough money to spare.”

“Pepper is….”

“Our boss.” Natasha finished. “Tony was originally, but he gave the position to Pepper a year after they first met. He is wrapped around her finger.”

“Do not take my name in vain, spidey!” A cheerful voice made you jump as a familiar man came out of the kitchen doors. Tony was the one to interview you for the job, and had seemed like someone you would want to be friends with.

“Don’t call me that, Tony.” Natasha said firmly, and you couldn’t help but think that this was a recurring thing. “This is y/n.”

Tony’s eyes flicked to you and you smiled. “Hey.”

“Woo, woo, woo! First day!” Tony cheered and you saw Natasha roll her eyes.

“I wish god was in this chilis.” sighed Natasha and a burst of laugh came from you, a single 'Ha’.

Tony’s hand clapped you on the shoulder suddenly. “Let’s get this day started, shall we? I’ll have Sam show you around.”

"That,“ Sam said ,"is Wanda. She makes the best cocktails in town.”

Sam had been introduced to you quickly, but you had immediately connected to the man and his funny banter as he showed you around the Chili’s complex.

The auburn woman Sam was referring to looked up and, with a squeak, Sam ducked down behind a chair. “I think she can also read minds.” He hissed and you chuckled.

“Samuel Wilson!” Wanda shrieked, shaking a wooden spoon in your direction. “Stop talking about me to the new girl. I’m Wanda Maximoff, world renowned chef and all-around good person.”

“You work in a goddamn Chilis!” Sam guffawed and Wanda glared at his back.

The two of you continued, Sam talking faster now with the lunch rush steadily approaching. “You’ve already met Natasha, of course. She can work a knife like nobody’s business.”

This didn’t surprise you. Natasha seemed like the type of person that could snap a bone in half without even blinking. You wouldn’t hesitate to admit that she already scared you, even after only knowing her for a couple hours.

“Bruce has anger issues.” Sam pointed to a short man with glasses low on his nose. He was in the middle of tying up his apron and shot Sam an exhausted look. “He does marijuana. Prescribed. Sometimes he let’s me hit it when he’s not looking.”

“When he’s not looking.” You snorted, nodding your head. “Your brain cells, gosh.”

Sam winked at you. “Those three over there.” You looked into the direction of his finger and your heart immediately sank. “Steve, the blonde one with short hair used to be 5'7, less than 100 pounds. He had a growth spurt when he was 20 and only Bucky knows why. He’s the brunette one. Absolute monster at typing, can do 100 words in under a minute.”

“Wow, real talented people here.” You chuckled. Steve had actually bulked up at 17, just after his mother passed away. It had been an extremely cold winter, stealing souls all over the country, including Ms. Rogers. Her funeral had been a somber affair, and neither Steve nor Bucky could be found at the wake afterwards.

“Yeah, Bucky basically does everyone’s reports around here. You see those two over there,” Sam moved his arm lazily in the direction of Natasha, who was sat next a mousy haired man. “Natasha, of course, but also her best friend Clint. He can fit 134 M&M’S in his mouth. Up until recently, he couldn’t fit 60 in there, but then Nat broke his jaw and bam! It was suddenly a black hole.”

“That’s what she said!” You joked. “No, that’s what he said.”

Sam looked at you for a second and you wondered if you had said anything wrong, before he laughed, clapping you on the shoulder. “Thor, the one in between Steve and Bucky, can bench press both of them at the same time.”

“The same time!?”

“The same time.”

“Alrighty, Sam.” A soft voice said from behind the two of you. “Lunch rush soon, please stop traumatizing the new kid with your stories of Clint.”

“But Pep..” Sam whined at the sophisticated looking ginger in front of you. Pepper, your boss, was wearing a white suit, free of wrinkles. At Sam’s words, Pepper pursed her red lips.

“Work.” She ordered and Sam groaned, trudging off. “I’m not sure if Tony told you, but this is a no-nonsense workspace. We would like you to respect both your co-workers and your customers. If you ever need anything, you’re welcome to talk to me, or any of the team: if you talk to Maria, our HR leader, she’ll keep it purely confidential.”

“Ok.” You squeaked. “Thank you, ma'am.”

Pepper smiled slightly. “Call me Pepper, sweetie.”

As Pepper walked away from you, you could feel the impending doom of lunch at a Chilis whilst working alongside your childhood best friend. Boy, was it going to be a long couple of months.

@tonyintexas @steveeology @eyesofgoldenambers @crashhmycar @txmhoelland @driftingbarnes @wazzupmrstark @shurisneakers @definitely-not-black-cat @laureharrier @puppy-barnes

#bucky x you #bucky fanfic #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x you #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky fanfic #rosemary rolls #my writing #rr #bucky barnes

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caroline18mars · 6 years

Text

A Man On Fire - Chapter 18

Oh just fuck off, Sean, who needs you and your dramaqueen anyway? Ever so slowly she tried to sit up, oh djeezes her back was absolute agony, but hey she was moving, oh yes yes yes, awwawww, motherf...! free, yes yes freeeee at last! She crawled from under the last wooden board and pulled herself up on a chair into an almost standing position, the couch was closest, one foot in front of the other, oh yesss, ooooohh touchdown..she finally sat down and looked at her painting, she couldn't tell from this distance if the canvas was cracked or damaged or not, please don't let it be torn. Painkiller, oh she needed a painkiller, where was her bag? She rummaged through her bag for a second and downed the pill with a big swig of her wine, ohhh, please kick in, like right now?! She slowly let herself slide against the cushions and took out her phone, she needed some kind of interaction, comfort, right now, and if it wasn't gonna be Sean and his trollup then it was gonna be Joe

From: HCDeRobiano

To: BJLCubbins

Subject: Re: Hellooooo???

Joe,

You're asking if I'm ok, well you know what, I'm not even gonna answer that, I'll say this one thing though, I'll do my best to be there, (even if I have to show up in a wheelchair)

A domani!

Coco

Huh? A wheelchair? He finally heard from her and now she seemed to be in a wheelchair? Not that that was an issue but he just had a different view of her in mind. Was that a pang of dissapointment, no..but..had he played this scene in his head on too fastforward? Wait, what mattered really here? Her mails, her personality or a...possible disability? Come on, don't be such an ass, just read it again, 'even if', see that is something completely different than...oh will you stop, Leto, for fuck's sake! Just be happy if she'll show up tomorrow!

From: BJLCubbins

To: HCDeRobiano

Subject:Re: re: Hellooooo???

Coco,

Did something happen? Because I got a bit worried about the 'wheelchair' thing, or maybe that is permanent? I guess I just realized that I don't know you all that much!

Regards

Joe

He so wasn't gonna show up, he was not gonna show up, what the fuck? And what a shitty thing to say about the 'wheelchair' thing? Ok, so he didn't specifically say it, but she could just feel what he was thinking..so what if she had some kind of disability? which she didn't really, were you one of those guys, Cubbins? All superficial and shit? you twat! She growled a bit and balanced the phone on her forehead. Now what? Make a complete loon of yourself and show up, knowing full well you're gonna be stood up for the second time? Or interpret this mail differently and read into it that he's actually curious about you, with that last part about not knowing much about each other or better, knowing nothing at all about each other? Tomorrow was another day and right now she was gonna do nothing more than let the beautiful mix of alcohol and painkiller bounce around in her system and throw a veil over the pain in her back. Close to midnight, he could still feel the Big Apple vibrate up to him behind the closed window on the 7th floor, this city was as restless as he was, if NY was a woman, he would have married her a long time ago, she begged him to dissapear into her night filled with drunks, poets, addicts, lovers, freaks, writers but he had to refuse, there was no way he was gonna risk repeating the same mistake. Nope, na-ah, no way, he was gonna show up, wait and be completely stunned, shocked, surprised by his blind date, he shuddered, he hated the concept of surprise but not this time, he was too intrigued. You know what, if it all went belly-up and she didn't show up or she wasn't what he had expected, then he could always call Harper, right? Hmm, kill 2 birds with one stone, why the hell not? How long could it possibly take to find a name and a number? In Shayla's case obviously a loooonggg time! Go to bed, Jared, just get in bed and read a book, take your mind off things, you'll need the morning to pick an outfit, you need to look sharp.

Harper's eyes fluttered open, she tried to wiggle her toes, hallelullah, she could still move, hand and fingers working fine..and now the tricky part, oooufff, sitting up, back is better, oohhh yes..twist upper body a bit, nice, ok, not too sore, rest up properly and save yourself a doctor's visit, yep that was gonna be her motto from now on. With a bit of a huff and a puff, she stood up and slowly plodded to the fridge, empty..damn..ok, hot shower first, some grocery shopping and then..and then treat yourself to a hot bagel, missed those sooo much, dayummm! Something hot was definitely what she needed when she stepped outside, when had autumn turned into winter? Overnight? Note to self: must look for a warmer coat, brrrr, ok, shopping,..oh slowlyyy..her back, awwww! Don't slouch, straighten your shoulders, ladies never run, hello mother..please go away, ok..shop, let's go. Omnomnom, this bagel was pure heaven, ooohh hothothot though, she juggled the grocery bags to take her key when some mail guy ran up to her “De Robiano?” hearing her name made her turn her head and nod “yes”. She took the enveloppe that he handed to her and recognized the name of her Dad's lawyer, oh fuck, what now? she pushed the enveloppe in one of the bags and opened her door, let's see what Daddy dearest had in store for her this time.

Jared stepped in front of the mirror for the umpteenth time, this shirt..but another pair of trousers then? Will you just decide what to wear? Casual? Rock? Sporty? Suit?...why not mix and match? Hair up? Braid? Loose? For a split second he missed Shayla and her advice..oh no he didn't, 11:30, get a move on. Harper just sat there at her kitchen counter digesting the news, a door slamming downstairs pulled her out of her daze..what time was it? 11:30, well, this day just couldn't get any worse so didn't matter if she went or not. Catching a glimpse of himself in the window as he exited the hotel, he was pretty happy with his mix and match after all, black long sleeved T-shirt, black jeans, dinner jacket and a long blue hippie scarf, casual bohemian chic, “need a cab, Sir?” one of the doormen asked, “yeah, Times Square, please”. One last look in the mirror, are you sure you want to get stood up again? Cool outfit though, 'beep'

From: BJLCubbins

To: HCDeRobiano

Subject: So..

I'm on my way..

Joe

Oh, really? On your way to anywhere but Times Square probably..could this mail be any shorter? was it even worth answering? Stay or go? She grabbed her bag, here went absolutely nothing.

12:30..ok, half an hour to go, first some tea to calm his stuttering nerves, he got out of the car and tried to be as incognito as possible finding his way to the nearest coffeeshop, every woman that walked past him could be her, the girl with the blonde ponytail? the curvy businesswoman? Stop assuming things, it'll drive you nuts, try to enjoy the moment, after all, how long have you been looking forward to this? You even flew half across the world to be here for her, he quickly checked his phone, nothing..don't you dare stand me up now we've both come so far. 'Times Square', ok this was it, she took a deep breath and got out of the train amidst all the tourists, the commuters and all the people on their way to wherever, but she had a designated spot waiting for her, hopefully he was waiting for her too this time. Uhhh, slow down girl, think of your back, he kept her waiting the first time around, now she was gonna turn the tables on him and he would have to wait for her. Ah, the billboards, the lights, the crowded streets, every time she exited the subway the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, to her this was like the centre of the world, this was one of the things she liked so much about New York, the hussle and the bussle of this city by the water was unnerving for many, but like a warm blanket for her. 12:55..ok, he downed his tea in one go, was that a light tremble in his hand when he put down the cup? Just..just go, it'll be alright, how long have you been looking forward to this moment?

Ok, deep breath, he walked out of the coffeeshop and into the cold, harsh wind, M&M's..M&M's..oh right that way, he kept his head down as he crossed the street with the masses, the minute he was on the right side of the street, his shoes seemed to stick to the pavement, that's how slow he was going, like he wanted to register every step, every breath of cold air he took on this crazy moment, in his head like this was the most pivotal moment in his life. 10 steps more..and..he was here..ok, what was he supposed to do now? How was he ever going to recognize her if he had never seen her? Wait, this girl was checking him out..and then turned back to talk to her boyfriend..ok next..whoaa, sweetheart way too young, what are you? 13? nope, look around, look like you belong here, oh sweet jesus, being on a stage in front of thousands of people was way easier than standing here waiting for some kind of..blind date. What would she look like? Definitely some artistic woman..and none of those were to be found here..she is so gonna stand me up, shut up and just wait, it's only..1:05. She hated this snail-like pace, but it was too painful if she sped up, ah there it was..just a few more metres, god it's so crowded here. She let out a big breath, glad to be standing still again, and zipped up her jacket a little higher and rolled her scarf around her neck one more time, ok she was here, where was he? Every guy here seemed to be a tourist with the typical tourist outfits she hated so much, and since when were bean bags back in style? Oh, just don't look at me, aren't you ashamed of yourself, your wife and kids are walking right next to you? Oh watch where you're going? Whose idea was it to meet here at this tourist trap anyway? With every minute that ticked away his hope started to dwindle, it was just too crowded, too busy and all the faces started to blur the more he looked around. The honk of a carhorn startled him and right when he turned again, the crowd seemed to split in two and that's when he saw her...there she was, a vision in leather pants, a jeans jacket and a huge scarf..everything clicked in his head, HC..and her name just rolled from his lips “HARPER”. Hearing her name made her head shoot up and their eyes locked. Ohhhh..what?...but..oh my god. Like in slow motion, he came running up to her like he was gonna throw his arms around her but he stopped in his tracks with a killer smile on his face “Coco..Harper..Harper Coco De Robiano..heeyyy”.

#jared leto #jared leto fanfic #jared leto fanfiction #fanfic #fic #fanfiction #30 Seconds To Mars #30 seconds to mars fanfic #a man on fire #chapter 18 #caroline18mars #harper #harpercoco #harper and jared

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nongbabe · 6 years

Text

Watermelon - Roomate Mark Lee

this scenario is entirely based off of this gif not going to lie

Scenario: Mark Lee just really likes watermelon and also you

okay so you’ve been roommates with make lee since the beginning of sophomore year

you wanted to live off campus to save some money

and mark was sick of living with a swarm of guys who never seemed to do dishes

and hey less people less mess

also you’re pretty tidy yourself so it was extra good

anyway you guys had a few mutual friends and they ended setting you two up not actually but also kinda actaully lmao they ship it roommate wise

your both juniors now, it nearing the end of first semester so you guys have gotten pretty comfortable with each

like really comfortable you tell each other everything

everything excluding one maybe significant factor in your guys relationship...

and somewhere down the time line of living in such a small apartment together that factor became more and more signifigant

maybe it was from him constantly walking around the apartment with just a towel on after a shower or him not wearing a shirt during the early fall and late spring because your ac doesn’t work right

maybe it was the time he made you breakfast when you were sick in bed

and by made i mean he attempted to fry and egg and it didn’t work

so he put a bagel in the toaster bc even he cant mess that up he almost did though good thing you don’t mind extra crispy

maybe it was simply his smile or his sense of humor or his laugh

ah but no matter what or when it was

you had fallen for him. hard. and probably more quickly than you cared to admit

and hed done the same just neither of you were sure enough of each others feeling or confident enough to let the other know

but it doesn’t matter not that much any way

you were happy enough just spending lazy days in with him watching movies or just chatting sometimes when it was raining sometimes when it was perfectly sunny out

you were happy just having him drag you out of the apartment to go on adventures kayaking, squirrel chasing, trying out fencing club even if you both really suck

or sometimes he’d even bring his own adventures home like board games or a random diy project

never let him convince you to paint the ceiling again ever he looked hella cute with paint all over his face tho

or sometimes he would just bring home random things from the store?

like one day he brought home a watermelon and youre not really sure why bc its the middle of winter and watermelons aren’t in season?? he fckn love watermelon thats why look at his smile in the watermelon gif i wish i was a watermelon

“It was on sale y/n I had to get it. There were only 5 left. What if someone else bought all of them”

“Someone must really love watermelon to buy 5 at once, crazy man”

“…..”

“hey remember when you bought 7 and couldn’t figure out how to get them home because you rode your bike to the mart an-” and he deadass covered your mouth with his hand boi

“shhhhhh, we don’t need to talk abt that right now y/n just help me cut it up okay”

You guys, with a lot of difficulty and some very dull knives finally cut the watermelon into slices

hes a full slice kind of lad not a cube dude

if it was already pre-cubed like at a party though he would sill eat it

its watermelon

and then you would cut up the watermelon

and mark would be so !!! so excited

be really love watermelon

its just so sweet!! and watery!! and melony!!!!

and you and him would bite into it and...

ehhhhhh

and it would kinda be flavorless

like not sweet at all

“it’s not that bad, Mark.. okay? you did your best picking one out”

and Mark would do that thing

that sad Mark thing

the :c the sad pouty disappointed look

Nobody wants a sad :c mark

so you kinda run your fingers through his hair and push a few loose strands

Its starting to get long. You like it though. It gives you more of an excuse to run your fingers through it

You pulled him into a tight hug, one of those really really squeezing the air out of your lungs tight warm ones, one of those hugs that you could easily play off as friendly, silly even

But wow was your heart beating fast and your palms shaking

Mark would freeze at first out of surprise but the pout would go away!!

He would just be a bit caught off guard. That’s why he’d go a bit stiff initially. You weren’t really the type to hug him so out of the blue You were more of a cuddle when sleepy, or intoxicated, kind of human, a lot lett straight forward

He really liked it though really really

So much that he would relax and rest his hands on the small of your back rather than just stand there like a statue. Which is what he ‘claims’ he usually does when people hug him just like he ‘claims’ he doesn’t like skinship bloody liar

but the whole time his heart is going crazy and hes so concerned youre gonna notice but also he really likes hugging you

your skin feel cool and nice against him especially because he feels like hes on fire but

wow are you pretty and wow does he like you

but you don’t need to know that bc that would make living together awkward but it wouldnt be bc u like him too otherwise we wouldn’t be reading this now would we jc

And finally concerned mark would take over and he would suddenly pull away and ‘cough’

“??”

“Ahh I just remembered I have to finish that chem lab report is all”

“we finished that together a week ago Mark?”

“…i meant essay”

“but didn’t yo-”

but he would already be running away and locking himself in his room

well as best he could bc he still doesn’t have a door

he broke it off of its hinge they day you guys moved in mark you cute disaster

but you still try and not bother him if he goes in his room

privacy and such

and you’d be confused but also freaking out

oh my god what did you just do what if you pushed the bounds what if things are weird now what if mark doesnt talk to you anymore and stressssssssssss

A few minutes later you would hear his shower turn on

like this kid

i thought you said you had an essay lying hoe

anyways hed come out of the shower like 15 minutes later

hes not fast at showering bc boi needs time to shampoo after all those wackado hair syles he gotta keep from getting bald ya know

also he needs time to think bc wow do you make him crazy

and hed walk out into your little ‘living room’ and sits on the floor because you guys still havent gotten a couch even though its over a year since the two of you have lived together

and you finally threw away that makeshift cardboard furniture from removing in earlier this semester because mark didn’t just fall through them one he kEPT breaking and getting stuck in them

so to save the boy anymore embarrassment you threw them out together

anyway so he sat on the floor looking all cute mark like in typical mark attire

“hey y/n can you come here. I gotta talk to you for a sec”

but youre already talking??

but you wouldn’t question it

mark’s tone of voice was pretty serious tone to his voice which didn’t happen frequently

so you walked over by him and briefly sat on the floor before laying your head on his thigh

bc he in much more comfortable than the carpet and you werent really a criss cross apple sauce kind of gal at least not when mark was around bc as;doije;dfihw;erio

hed reach down and stoke your hair and close your eyes and hum slightly

“y/n” You’d hum again keeping your eyes closed and enjoying his close proximity

and youd kinda lay like that for a few minutes

and just as you were about to drift off to sleep he stopped playing with your hair

youre eyes open slowly, confused

and then Mark leaned down and before you could process what was happening he was kissing you

and you would have to fight to not break into a giant smile

because finally you were starting to think that maybe you were just a friend to him

but nope bc now ur making out lol not really tho its just a sweet kiss and not super long or agressive

he pulled away, scratching the back of his neck while give you that side smile of his almost sheepish one, but more flirty than sheepish

he kinda mumbled almost what sounded like an apology, but he really didn’t look that sorry and he certainly didn’t feel it i mean neither did you cute boy mark lee just kissed you

“you taste like watermelon” you roll your eyes

his smile spread into a full blown grin and his lil nose scrunched up. he kissed your nose.

he chuckled and semi-jokingly licked his lips “but tastier than the one we just had” You cupped his cheeks and pull his face towards yours.

!!!!!

#can you tell i love him???#love of my life #mark lee #mark #roommate!mark #nct #this actually took me a really long time to write #i had to keep stopping bc feels #s;djvwe;iofkj #mark friggn lee #nct dream #nct 127 #nct u #nct 2018 #imagine #fluff #scenario

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theangstyauthors · 6 years

Text

Writing Sample!

So we angsty authors have been waiting quite a while and sadly no asks have turned up :( So in the meantime here is a sample of our writing from our Danganronpa story on Wattpad. Please request. We are desperate!

Shuichi's POV

The sunlight flooded through my window and I rolled out of bed begrudgingly. I looked at the clock and I couldn't believe my eyes. I was definitely going to be late. Why didn't Kirumi wake me up? I didn't see her on my way out the door so she must have left already. Kirumi didn't have anywhere to go due to maintenance so she stays in my dorm with me. Having an "Ultimate Maid" in my dorm is honestly the best thing ever. She had just moved in yesterday so I'll have to introduce her to my best friends Hajime,Nagito,Kaede and Makoto who've I known for awhile. They're the only reason why I'm okay with going to school. I hate how everyone glares at me and looks at me like they want me dead. That's why I always wear my hat. Without it I would just suffocate from pressure. I approached my class. Thankfully Homeroom hadn't ended so I could see my friends.

"Hey Shuichi!" I heard my friend Hajime yell.

"Hey Hajime," I walked over to him and I was surprised to see that Nagito wasn't there with him

"Have you seen Nagito?"

"No, I hope he's okay" Hajime muttered. As if he was right on cue, Nagito sashayed over and yelled

"DID SOMEBODY SAY HOPE!?" right in Hajime's ear.

"Wow, you couldn't be more annoying, could you?" Hajime shook his head bewildered. "Now we just need Makoto who should be here in approximately five seconds." As if he was waiting he turned to the stairs. All of a sudden a large blurr came flying down the stairs which obviously was Makoto.

"Stupid Byakuya tripped me again." Makoto dragged himself up off of the floor and hung out with us for a bit before we all had to go to our own classes. I pretty much ignored all of my classes until Lunch. I already know the material so I don't need to worry about paying attention today. My friend group and I always sit together at this one lone table outside so I at least have something to look forward to. I walked down to our table and met up with my friends. It just hit me now that I didn't get to make lunch since Kirumi left early and I ran out of time.

"Hey Shuichi, did you forget your lunch again? I packed extra today so you can share with me" Makoto flashed me a friendly smile.

"Thanks Makoto" I sat down next to him.

"Nagito, seriously?" Hajime sighed "A bagel and cheerios for lunch again? You're an idiot. You have to take better care of yourself you know."Nagito laughed

"Hey, I'm your idiot." It is always nice to see them together. To be honest it's like they're the protagonists of a romance novel. I turned to see Makoto eating popcorn watching them.

"You intended on doing that, didn't you?" I whispered to him.

"Yup, want some?" Makoto handed me the bag of popcorn and we watched them banter for a bit. It's kinda like Makoto and I are third and fourth wheeling even if they aren't dating, but it's fun to watch them, not to be creepy or anything. We ship them but would never interfere with their lives.

"Oh that's right!" I exclaimed. "Do you guys want to come over to my dorm later?" We usually go to a Bakery or something and then go to one of our dorms. "You can meet Kirumi who just moved in yesterday."

"Yeah but, can we get bagels after school though" Nagito inquired.

"Only you would be obsessed with bagels Nagito. I'll go too." Hajime playfully teased him."What about you Makoto?" When I looked at him he seemed uneasy as if he was looking for someone.

"O-Oh yeah, uh I can come with you guys but I have a lot of homework so don't mind me." He replied without making eye contact. I decided not to pay much attention though, he was probably just thinking about something. Soon after the lunch period ended I went back to class and waited for the day to end. I couldn't find the confidence to talk to people except for my friends and Kaede who helps me a lot with my confidence issues. Kaede also corrects me when I say that I'm some apprentice and not a detective but, to be honest Kyoko Kirigiri from Makoto's class fills that role way more than I could ever. She's a textbook detective, one that is totally worthy of being awarded the title of an ultimate. We are practically polar opposites. She would always find the truth and serve justice while I can't even serve lunch no pun intended. The only thing that I could ever have in common with her is a friendship with Makoto. Not that I've met the girl or anything to know much about her. All I know is that she is more successful than I am. But the truth that I found in that was that she always would be. These are at least all the things i've heard from Naegi. He seems like the only person she'll talk to. Everyone else gets this cold hard death stare including me. What did I do? :( Maybe there is something between them. Now thats the kinda truth I can find. I don't spend as much time with Kaede as much as I do with Makoto,Hajime and Nagito but I still like her a lot. After a few hours had passed it was time for me to go meet up with my friends.

"Hey guys!" I shouted as I walked to them from across the hallway.

"Hey Shuichi! We might want to get out of here before this little short stack gets crushed again," Hajime laughed and ruffled Makoto's hair.

"I'm not that short!" Makoto yelled.

"Sorry Makoto, but compared to us you're a literal bean." Nagito declared.

"It's kinda sad when people almost trample you by accident." Hajime added.

"Yeah, by accident..." Makoto mumbled.

"What was that?" Hajime asked."Oh, nothing important." Makoto uttered quietly.

"Let's go get bagels!" Nagito exclaimed as he sashayed away. We walked over to the nearby bakery before going to my dorm. The bakery was actually the nicest one we've been to. Most of them look like their barely getting by but there was something about this one that always kept us going back. Hajime drove into to the parking lot and turned to Makoto and I.

"Okay, can you guys go in? Nagito can't be trusted with going in or being alone so I'll watch him." Hajime then handed Nagito a pen and a pad of paper "Write down what you want you weird bagel enthusiast."

"My bagel love cannot be quenched okay!?" Nagito then wrote down his order and handed it to Makoto.

"Wait why us? Why can't we watch Nagito? You're actually good at ordering" I exclaimed. This isn't fair, what if Makoto and I miss out on something.

"You two wouldn't be able to handle Nagito." Hajime shook his head.

"Yeah we could! Nagito won't do anything wrong!" Makoto convinced Hajime who was honestly starting to scare me.

"Okay, I'll go order but don't blame me if your dead before I come back." Hajime walked out of the car and locked it as he went into the bakery. After a few minutes passed hell started to break loose.

"Hey guys, look at that weird homeless guy over there." Nagito glared at him "He disgusts me." Since Nagito was in the middle seat in the car he ended up crushing Makoto to get to the open window."Hey you! You lowly piece of crap over there!" Nagito somehow managed to get the guys attention while poor Makoto was turning red from loss of oxygen. "You hopeless scrub! Get your life together! Get a job or something! Have some hope in your life for once!" The man then flipped Nagito the bird which caused him to have a heated conversation with his guy.

"Hey Nagito, give it up already." I told him calmly. "You're crushing Makoto and he's starting to turn blue." My efforts were futile as he kept yelling at the guy.

"That's it, I'm going to fight this guy!" Nagito yelled as he went to unlock the door. Fortunately I was fast enough and I grabbed Nagito by his waist and tried to hold him back as he was fighting against me."STOP IT SHUICHI I WANT TO FIGHT HIM" Nagito screamed as he was struggling against me.

"YOU STOP IT NAGITO, YOU'RE PICKING UNNECESSARY FIGHTS AND KILLING MAKOTO!" I screamed back at him. We continued to fight as Hajime walked out of the store to see Nagito and I fighting and screaming and a blue Makoto who looked like he was going to pass out at any minute.

"SHUT UP YOU TWO, I LITERALLY GOT TOLD BY OTHER CUSTOMERS TO MAKE SURE YOU WERE OKAY! SHUICHI, LET NAGITO GO AND NAGITO STOP BEING SUCH A MENACE! ALSO FOR GOD'S SAKE GET OFF OF MAKOTO!" Hajime screeched at us which caused all of us to jump. "I told you guys, I shouldn't have left you guys alone, my mistake" he then sighed in annoyance and held up two fingers "Makoto, how many fingers am I holding up?"Makoto squinted then replied with "Uhhh... six?""Shuichi how long was Nagito on top of Makoto?" Hajime had a look of genuine concern on his face.

"About five minutes." I said quietly knowing that Hajime was going to scold us.

"I'm honestly surprised that he's alive right now. Well it makes since he looks like he's stoned and wasted at the same time." Hajime looked over to Makoto "Are you okay?" There was no response.

"HE'S DEAD OH NO, THE END REST IN PEACE, HAPPILY NEVER AFTER!" I screamed without even thinking.

"Calm down for once in your sad life! Jesus he will be okay... probably." Hajime's angry voice got me to shut up quickly.

"My life's not that sad... Is it? I only sink fully into my depression on Wednesday's but today's only a Friday so I should be good by now. I should really see a therapist. Maybe Kirumi could help me with that." I accidentally wondered out loud which caused both Nagito and Hajime to look at me with horrified faces. Crap!

"Shuichi... Are you serious?" Hajime looked at me with hurt eyes. "Why...Why didn't you tell us?"

"It's not like I drown in my own tears every Wednesday or anything."I started nervously laughing.

"Shuichi. Please talk to us next time. We really care about you. All of us without a doubt. If you're ever going through something please, I'm begging you to talk to me or any of us." Hajime's voice was calm but the guilt and frustration shone brightly through it all. Nagito didn't say anything but he looked highly upset by this turn of events. We went from the topic of bagels to my Wednesday crying sessions. What have I done? But he also had a glint of evil in his eyes. All of a sudden he exited the parked car and walked over to someone. And I quickly realized that Hajime had forgotten to lock the car which was rule number one when being in any kind of vehicle with Nagito.

"Oh sweet lord, NAGITO!" Hajime yelled then quickly turned to me "Don't think your free, we are definitely talking about this later!" He then ran after him to see him yelling at Sayaka Maizono, the ultimate pop sensation and also Makoto's classmate. Is he literally taking out his anger on other people?

"Hey you!" Nagito yelled "Don't think nobody knows that you stalk Makoto almost all the time! Makoto only doesn't know because he's oblivious to literally everything! Are you hecking five! A dummy could tell that you like him. I for one ship him with someone else so you better back away from my fantasy that I've got the other boys on board with me so make like a tree and burnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn! So currently your little "lover boy" is in a coma due to this stupid homeless guy trying to pick a fight with me and I have absolutely no tolerance for people who throw away their hope so continuing back to my previous statement burnnnnn he doesn't like you, you waste of space."

"So, when can I see him again?" Sayaka smiled innocently.Back at the car was me extending my phone out so that it could hear the dialogue. Maybe I could get some followers and take that off the list of my Wednesday session. My camera and I then witnessed a sight I never thought I would see. It was Hajime, in public, being gay?! Hajime literally lifted Nagito over his shoulder in the middle of his shaking rage. But in his eyes was affection toward Nagito that was shining brightly. Hajime always acted like a tsundere but in reality he really loved Nagito will all of his heart. I should talk to Makoto on how to make them confess to each other. He was probably more gay than Nagito loves hope. Which sounds impossible. Hajime carried the shaking Nagito back to the car and placed him inside. He was still shaking but not from rage anymore, he was shook from the fact that Hajime carried him all the way to the car. Shook from being openly gay in public! Wow we knew of no such thing. I am definitely going to show Makoto this video if he doesn't die. We probably should have brought him to the hospital.

#danganronpa #danganronpa headcanons #send me asks #danganronpa ask blog

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savemefromanepicoftimewasted · 6 years

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Don’t Be Sad

Chris Evans X OFC Sebastian Stan X OFC A/N:This is a personal fic for a friend and i, i won’t be tagging

It was only seven thirty and both the kids were up and running around. It's like there internal clocks don't want to let any of their parents sleep in. Chris was groaning next to me, reaching over to calm down Lily who was crawling into the bed. So if she was here, then where was Violetta?

There was a loud crash in the living room, followed by a quiet giggle. Found her.

“Seb, or Kait. Whichever one of you is awake right now, your daughter is getting into something out there” I rolled into Chris's side, relishing in the warmth that was exuding him. “Goddamnit, I thought she was still asleep” Seb pushed himself out of the bed, footsteps fading until he was in the living room.

Her giggles echoed through the room until she was crawling into the bed, plopping down between Lily and Kait. It was a good thing everyone was dressed this morning, or else we were going to have to answer some awkward questions.

“Daddy!” Lily was rubbing her little hands all over Chris's beard, giggling when he wrapped an arm around her. “Daddy's awake sweetheart, but you should still be in bed right now” It was too early, and all I wanted to do was sleep at the moment. “no seep, befast!” She was squirming between our bodies while Violetta crawled all over Kait. “C'mon ladies, I'll make breakfast while these lazy butts sleep” I pushed myself out of the bed and grabbed Lily, Violetta abandon waking up Kait to follow me into the kitchen.

The girls were sitting in their seats within seconds, each excited for what I had to offer. And unfortunately it wasn't much, we had to do a much needed grocery run. Add that on the to do list before we get started on the day.

“Mama, baby?” Vi was pointing at my belly, I smiled and rested a hand against the side. “Mhm, mama's having a baby” Lily was still fascinated at how big my belly was getting. “Baby!” Vi clapped her hands excited.

They had both been born around the same time, much to the boys disappointment. They were each becoming fathers at the same time, so no one could go to the other for advice. They had to go to their own parents for advice, though Sebastian's mom was more than happy to help. Sure they were a little put off by our relationship at first. But they saw how happy we all were and wanted what was best for us, and once grandkids were introduced, it was all over.

I plated the eggs for Lily and Vi before making myself a bagel. Everyone else were on diets for roles, or too picky in the morning. Myself included. But the doctor told me not too many sweets this time around, and I wanted what was best for our second child.

“Papa!” Lily scooted down from her chair and ran over to Sebastian who had emerged from the bedroom. “Hi pumpkin, you being good and eating breakfast?” Seb walked over and sat her back down in her chair, kissing Vi's head before walking around the kitchen island. “Morning, the other two still asleep?” I asked before taking another bite of my bagel. The cream cheese was a little off putting, but I needed to eat. “Chris jumped in the shower, but she's still out like a light. How's jr doing?” Seb placed his hands on my belly, rubbing the sides ever so gently.

I nearly moaned from how good it felt, this baby had been kicking and moving a lot more. And normally it wouldn't bother me, but when they did it while I was trying to sleep. Well, it was becoming a lot harder to stay relaxed.

“Trying to break my ribs, one by one” I held my free hand over one of his, sighing as he pressed the tips of his fingers along my belly. “He's just excited is all, can probably hear us all talking and thinks it's time to get some attention” Seb was smirking, and I wanted nothing more than to slap him. Not too hard of course. “He gets attention from Chris all the time, kids gonna have an ego as big as yours” Seb feigned hurt, clutching his chest as he looked at me. “I take that as a compliment, he needs to have an ego the size of mine” I rolled my eyes, of course. “We need to go grocery shopping later, so let the other two know that” I kissed his cheek and went back to my bagel.

Sebastian saluted me before heading into the bedroom, laughing at whatever scene he walked into. Living with the three of them could be interesting at points, and with the addition of the two little ones, with one on the way, it was wild. It was easier when Chris and Seb were home, they could help take care of the girls so Kait and I could sleep. Or at least try and sleep that is. There was never a promise of taking a nap when it came to any of us. Which is how I had gotten pregnant so quickly after Chris came back home.

“Mommy!” Lily was holding up her plate, showing me she had even all of her breakfast. “Very good baby, what about you Vi?” I glanced over to her plate, she had eaten most of her eggs, her eyes on me then. “Done” She pushed the plate away, wanting nothing more than to go play with Lily. “Go and play girls, we gotta go to the store later” I took their plates and set them into the sink. I could wash them later after everyone ate.

Kait was the first to walk out of the bedroom, muttering how Sebastian and Chris were both huge jerks in the morning. So either they had been loud enough to wake her, or they resorted to tickling her awake again. Even I knew not to do that, she would reach out and smack you with the strength of ten men.

Chris walked out after her, wiping at the tears in his eyes. His smile was wide and bright, so something happened in the bedroom to piss off Kait. And with no sign of Sebastian just yet, that clued me in to that he was also in on whatever happened.

“Seb said the babies been kicking a lot” Chris's hands were warm, rubbing gentle circles all over. “Mmm, he has. I secretly think he wants to kill me before he's born” I rubbed his arms softly, resting my forehead against his chest. “He won't be able to, he'll be too sad” Chris was treading a thin line. One he liked to cross just to annoy me at times. “Lily wasn't even this bad, and you were hovering all the time back then” I pressed myself tighter to his chest, groaning as his arms wrapped around my shoulders.

The kitchen was silent, save for Kait making herself breakfast with the limited amount of food we'd had. Thank god she was the chef of this family, because if it were up to me I'd of killed everyone by now. Not because I had no idea how to cook, but cooking for four adults and two kids? Well I'd be burned out before I even got the chance to eat myself.

“Daddy!” Vi ran over as Sebastian walked out of the bedroom, pulling his shirt down. “Hi baby, you gonna be good when we go to the store?” Sebastian lifted her in his arms, holding her close as he walked over to kiss Kait good morning. “Yes daddy” She was swinging her feet, her cheek resting on his shoulder. “Well we better go soon, the Pats are playing at one and I refuse to miss another game because pissy pants Stan wants to hide the controller from me” Chris raised a brow at Seb, they were always being petty with one another.

I held a hand up letting Seb know that if he said anything back to Chris that all hell would break loose. It was still too early in the morning to be dealing with anything other than sleeping.

***

“Chris, put her down before you hurt yourself” I glanced over at Chris who was carrying Lily on his shoulders. “She wanted to go for a ride on daddy's shoulders though, I couldn't tell her no” I rolled my eyes and headed into the grocery behind Kait and Sebastian. “Just be careful please, last thing I need is either of you getting hurt” I set my purse down into a cart, going over to the produce first.

Chris was trying to keep Lily from ordering him to the bakery. She loved getting a cookie, and all of us knew that the baker thought Chris was cute. She would always blush when he went over with Lily or Vi. She saw the wedding ring on his hand though, and never tried to flirt with him. So I didn't mind if he made her day a little better, as long as she didn't try and flirt.

“She's got him wrapped around her little finger” Seb was standing beside me, picking out apples. “He's been whipped by her since the moment I gave birth” I couldn't help but laugh, Chris was now carrying Lily and Vi, one girl in each arm. “How do you think it's gonna be with a newborn? For Lily I mean” Seb set the bag into the cart, his eyes locked onto the side of my face. “I think she'll be excited, but we're gonna have to keep an eye on both of them for the most part” This pregnancy was a lot harder on me than my first. The doctors were amazed I had even been able to get pregnant.

It had been a shock that I had been able to get pregnant the first time, seeing the test stare back at me with the words pregnant written across the label. Kait had come to me not even three weeks later, showing me her own test. We waited for the boys to come home to give them the news, Chris was ecstatic, his arms wrapped around me so tightly I thought he was going to suffocate me. Sebastian was in tears, hugging Kait close to himself as he whispered pregnant over and over.

She was due a month after I was, and that was the hardest month for any of us. While I was home with Lily, Sebastian and Kait were out trying to get everything ready for Vi. Lily had been a complicated pregnancy from the get go. Morning sickness, fluctuating weight, mood swings constantly. And that was before I hit my third trimester. After that I was put on bed rest by my doctor, not allowed to do much of anything until the baby was here. But once she arrived, it was as if time stood still, our little family was growing.

“Kait wants to try for another one, but I think she's already pregnant” Sebastian kept his voice low, he was attuned to how Kait acted around her time of the month. And for the most part she wasn't acting normal at all. “I think so too, she's been eating my ice cream. And everyone in the house knows she loathes mint chocolate chip ice cream” I rubbed my belly as the baby kicked gently, clearly lacking the attention he deserved. “I'll bring it up to her tonight, I'm sure she'll be even more excited for baby number two” Sebastian smiled, sneaking over to where Kaitlyn was looking through the peppers.

Her squeal was loud, causing Sebastian to laugh loudly as he wrapped her tight in his arms. Chris set Vi down next to her parents before walking over with Lily still holding onto his side.

“Let's finish up getting our groceries so we can go home please” My ankles were already swelling, and my back was aching.

Chris nodded and set Lily down, holding onto her hand as he lead her through the store. Maybe shopping would actually be easier this time.

*** So, grocery shopping had gone alright for the most part, until Lily and Vi ganged up on the boys and demanded ice cream for dessert after dinner. And who was going to tell them no? Surely not me, they wouldn't want to be around me anymore. So we got them ice cream, which lead to Kait and I getting even more junk food. Which in then lead to the cart being full of somewhat healthy food, and more junk than we were proud of.

Chris's road rage came out when we were driving back home, the car filled with the soft music as he drove down the pike. Until someone cut us off at the last minute, causing Chris to jerk the wheel, his hand pressing over my belly. He was absolutely fuming, yelling at how the asshole should've paid attention to where he was driving. Lily and Vi put in their two cents, Vi saying how the guy was an asshole, which got a reaction from everyone.

“I didn't teach her how to say it, so it was one of you three” I looked over at Chris who was shaking his head.

And I knew that even though Kait swore like a sailor, she refused to have her little ones swearing all the time. That left Sebastian, of course. To be fair, I was happier that she didn't say the guy was a fucking asshole, as Chris had so lovingly called him.

The neighbors were staring when we pulled up, unloading the groceries into the house while the girls ran around outside. They were all skeptical of what exactly we all had going on, making bets on who was actually married to whom. We liked to switch it up from time to time, some days I would leave with Chris and others I would leave with Sebastian. Of course there were even times I would leave with Kait, hands locked together as we headed down to the little corner store.

It was no secret they all thought we were originally roommates, that was until we caught wind that they had heard us enjoying one another. Nothing wrong with being in a happy relationship. That is, until one of us gets pregnant.

“Shit, I missed the first quarter” Chris plopped down onto the couch, his elbows resting on his knees as he watched the tv with close precision. “No one's scored at least” I sat down on the arm rest beside him, rubbing my hand along his back gently. “Doesn't make me feel any better” The Pats were playing the Steelers. And I knew Chris was trying to keep himself composed. This was going to ensure who went on to the Superbowl.

Sebastian was plopped down on the opposite side of the couch, his brow furrowed as he read through an email his manager had sent him. Violetta looked over, gasping as she saw the wrinkles on Seb's forehead. Her little feet carried her across the floor as she slapped his forehead.

“No winkles!” I couldn't help but snicker, it was something that Kait had taught her, and it was adorable. “Oh, I'm sorry baby. Daddy didn't mean to make his angry face” He smiled and pulled her into his lap.

Chris was frowning, the Steelers were pushing towards their goal line faster and faster. His own brow furrowed as the ball was thrown, the player losing grip before he could make the touchdown.

“Winkles!” Vi was in Chris's lap now, slapping at his forehead until he laughed, grabbing her sides gently. “It's the game sweetie, why don't you go play with Lily for now?” He set her back down onto the couch, eyes glued to the screen.

She had crawled back, into Sebastian's lap slapping at his forehead until he chuckled and tickled her sides. Lily was asleep next to Dodger. I smiled and looked around the room at everyone, whether they were napping, reading emails, watching football, or reading a book in the corner, it felt homey. I couldn't imagine my life without these people, or their wrinkles.

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lolainblue · 7 years

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Thunderbirds Chapter 17

T/W: just some language

Shannon:

“Wake the fuck up Shan.”

Jared gave the end of the bed a hard kick and then went to open the heavy hotel drapes, letting in way more sunlight than I was ready for. I rolled over onto my stomach and pulled the pillow over my head. I would have told him to fuck off but the ringing in my head made me just want everything to be as quiet as possible. This was supposed to be our off day. All I wanted to do was sleep.

“Come on bro, get up. I want to head out soon and you need a shower. You smell like a barroom floor.”

He sounded awake and energetic and relentlessly cheerful. I wanted to kill him. I pulled my hand out from under the pillow long enough to flip him off. He just chuckled, waited a few minutes and then started in again.

“Get up. I told you last night I wanted to go into town today.” He yanked the pillow off of my head.

“Dammit Jared, you're really putting the dick in dictatorial this morning. Fuck off.” I told him, rolling over to squint at him.

“It's not morning, it's 1 o'clock in the afternoon.” He disappeared into the bathroom and I could hear the shower starting. “Come on man, we need to get going,” he said, sticking his head back out of the bathroom. I was in no mood though.

“Go without me. Take Matt or Kevin or someone else.”

“Fuck Shannon, get up. I told you last night. I don't want to take anyone else. Come on.”

Knowing Jared he wasn't going to shut up until he got his way so I threw a pillow at him and stumbled into the bathroom. I got cleaned up and dressed but my stomach was rolling and my head ringing from the night before. We had really tied one on after the show. I wasn't even sure I was entirely sober yet. “What the hell is so important?”

“Just want to spend some time with my big brother. I'm allowed to do that right?” he asked. Bullshit. I just groaned in response. He tossed me my sunglasses. “Let's get something on your stomach and get going.”

We grabbed some lunch and Jared kept checking his watch the entire time. I knew something was up, he was being cagey as fuck, but I was in no mood to argue. I just tagged along silently as he dragged me from place to place, rummaging through dusty thrift stores and this one weird new age-y place that I think just sold bells, all the while wishing there was some sort of 'volume' control on my sunglasses so I could turn them up. Eventually whatever time he had been waiting for on his watch was up, and he dragged me out of the bell store and into the bookstore two doors down. I was actually standing there with my eyes closed when Jared shoved a book against my chest.

“Here,” he told me, “go get your book signed.”

Without even looking at it I tried to hand the book back to him. “Dude I am not in the mood for your little games today. Why don't you go get your own book signed.”

He flipped the book jacket open and held it under my face. “Go get your book signed Shannon,” he said again.

With a groan, I took it from his hand and examined it. And everything stopped. I flipped it over in my hands several times, taking my sunglasses off for a better look. The front cover had a picture of trees and a dirt road, and the title, The Moonthieves at the top. At the bottom was the author's name: Jane S. Sewell. I looked at the jacket leaf that Jared had opened and there she was, her face smiling up at me from the glossy paper. It was one of those bland, corporate looking author pictures but it was definitely my Janey. I stood there flipping the book back and forth in my hands for several minutes before it sank in. Go get your book signed Shannon. She was here. Jane was here.

Jared was watching me turn the book over and over, the biggest shit eating grin on his face. I wondered how long he had been sitting on this little surprise. Dazed, I looked around but didn't see where I should go. Jared grabbed me and steered me toward the back of the store where a small table had been set up. I couldn't see Jane, there were too many people around the table. I took my place in line, trying to think of what I was going to say to her.

So much had changed since the last time I saw Jane. It had been seven years since I sat down across the table from the girl with the big eyes and the crazy hat. Seven years that felt like a hundred. Seven years that had seen the music thing turn into the band thing, then an album thing that took forever to record but was getting good reviews, and now a tour thing. She had been right when she said it would fall into place for me. It looked like things were falling into place for her too, just as she wanted. I gave the book a closer look, flipping back to the author's blurb.

Jane S. Sewell is an award-winning editor, author, and recipient of the prestigious Young-Allen fellowship. She received her graduate degree from NYU and currently resides in New York, where she shares her home, and occasionally her guacamole, with her best friend.

I couldn't help but smile. Of course, she and Roger were still thick as thieves. I couldn't imagine them being any other way. It sounded as if she was getting everything she worked for and wanted. She had been right. We'd both had big dreams to pursue, marks to make on the world, and it looked like we were both achieving them. And now our tours had landed us in the same city at the same time. That had to be a sign. Maybe we were destined to come back to each other in the end after all. I flipped to the front of the book to read the dedication.

For everyone that's ever touched me

For everyone that's ever held me

For everyone that ever believed

For you Roger. You never wavered for a minute, even when I did.

For you Angus. You know why.

I felt my smile falter a bit. Who the fuck was Angus, and why was his name here? I knew the jealousy was irrational, Angus could have been her publisher, a professor, the guy who sold her bagels every morning. It wasn't like we were supposed to be sitting around waiting for each other to pop up again. We specifically agreed not to do that. Hell, I didn't even know how many women I had been with since Jane. I had thrown myself into the rock star life pretty hard and landed in my share of gutters. So why did that one line make my stomach clench?

The line moved and I looked up at the table where the small crowd had finally shifted away. Jane was smiling warmly at the teenage girl in front of her as she took her book to sign. She was even more stunning than I remembered. She had definitely grown up, there was a polish to her now, her dark blonde curls were tamed, she moved with a poise that would have escaped the slightly nerdy wannabe bad-girl of my memory. But the gold shirt she was wearing made those big green eyes of hers sparkle, and I knew my Jane was in there. I looked over at Jared, who was lingering off to the side, that same smile still plastered on his face. There was something off about him though, he still had something up his sleeve. He may have been able to pull the wool over mom's eyes but I had always known when he was up to shit. He was still sitting on something big.

The line shifted again and I was next. There was no one behind me. I turned away slightly, not wanting her to catch a glimpse of me before I was ready. I still didn't know what to say to her. I wished Jared hadn't sprung this on me like a surprise. I was tired and hungover and my head felt like a circus full of monkeys was loose in it. I thought about just throwing my arms around her for a hug but I didn't know if she even wanted to see me.

Someone tapped my shoulder and I realized my turn was up. Jane wasn't even looking at me, she was distracted in conversation with the well-dressed lady sitting next to her. I gave a dry swallow and held the book out to her.

“Could you make it out to Shannon please?” I said. Jesus, Shan, really, that's the best you could come up with? She finished whatever she was saying and then took the book, finally looking at me for the first time.

“Shannon?” she said, taking the book. She immediately broke into a huge smile and I let out the breath I had been holding. She certainly seemed happy to see me.

“Hey, Jane.” I was glad to see her smile but I still was at a loss for words. “You look good.”

She clicked her tongue and leaned her head to the side. “That's all I get after all this time? You look good?” She stood up and walked out from behind the table. “Can I at least get one of those amazing hugs you were always throwing around?”

Relieved, I pulled her against me, and I felt my heart start racing the second we made contact. However improbably, whatever that chemistry that had been between us that had made us fall so hard so fast still had its remnants in my bloodstream, even after all this time. I held her tight, waiting for her sniff me like she always had. Instead, she was the first one to break out of the embrace.

“Hi Jared,” she said, noticing him where he stood off to the side. He was leaning against a nearby bookcase, wearing the same expression he'd had since we came into the bookstore. He just nodded at Jane in return. I began to get an uneasy feeling. She turned her attention back to me. “So it looks like you guys have done well for yourselves. I have your album you know. I really like it.”

“Thanks. I'm sorry I didn't know you had been published. I guess I've been pretty preoccupied with the band and everything.”

“Yeah, I guess you have,” she said in a tone I couldn't read. “The other stuff was just short stories in anthologies and things. This is my first novel.”

“Well I'm going to sit down and read it as soon as I can, I promise,” I told her.

Standing this close to her, so many things I had pushed down into the back of my mind started flooding back out. I remembered how she had looked at me like I was already somebody long before anyone else did, just when I needed someone to. I wondered if she knew how important to me she had been. I wondered if she still thought of me at all.

“So it looks like you're doing pretty good for yourself Jane,” Jared began, finally stepping away from the bookcase. Here it comes, I thought, whatever it is.

“Yeah, things are really coming together for me now. And you guys too!” She replied with a smile. She looked so happy. I hoped at least part of that was because she was happy to see me. “I've kept up with both of you, you know. Really liked some of your movies.”

“Thanks,” Jared said. “I read a review of your book and did a little internet sleuthing to make sure it was really you.”

Jane laughed. “Yeah, I'm not as easy to keep up with as you are. Oh, I guess I should congratulate you, not only did the acting take off and the band but you're getting married too right?”

At this point Jared's smile got so big I thought it was going to take over his whole face and I realized that whatever bullshit he had been strewing about Jane had just stepped right into it.

“Yup. And congratulations to you too, Jane. When's the big date?”

My heart stopped. Was that who Angus was? Her fiancee? I knew she wasn't sitting around waiting for me to drop back into her life again but married? Jared looked positively gleeful. Suddenly it all made sense. Jared had been furious after Jane left, seeing how hurt I was when she had gone but I think also he was pissed because she hadn't chosen him. He knew that I still carried around a picture of her, that I had never really been able to let her go. I think this was his way of getting in the last word. I had never wanted to punch him so bad in my life.

Jane just laughed, oblivious that there was anything wrong. “Not until next March,” she said. “I have this book tour to finish and he's overseas on assignment right now.” She turned to me. “I wish I could stick around and hear you guys play tomorrow night but I have to do some morning talk show here and then I'm on a plane to Cincinnati.”

The woman Jane had been sitting with reached over and touched her on the arm. “Ms. Sewell, the signing is officially over, I'm just going to start packing up if you'd like a few minutes with your friends.”

A few minutes. Seven years apart and I was only going to be seeing her again for a few minutes, and then she was running off to marry someone else. It was a cruel tease. I glared at Jared. He just shrugged his shoulders. “I know you think you won somehow. You can be a real fucking bastard when you want to be Jay.” Jane looked between us, confused. “I can't believe you're getting married,” I told her.

“Didn't Jared tell you?” she looked over at Jared who had crossed his arms in front of him and was standing with a resolute look on his face.

“No, I didn't even know we were coming to see you until we got here.” I looked at Jared before adding pointedly, “apparently I've been completely in the dark.”

I could see the pieces fall together behind Jane's eyes. Her expression immediately shifted to one of anger. “Well, who would have thought. All this time and out of the three of us, the one that's still not over it is you,” she said to Jared.

“You're the only one that's over it, Jane. He still carries your damn picture around.”

“Well I didn't really have a lot of choice but to get over it, did I?” She glared at him for a minute before turning back to me. “That's not true, is it? Because you sure haven't acted like you weren't over me.”

I shrugged my shoulders. “There's a picture of you in my guitar case. I don't exactly carry it everywhere.” I said sheepishly. I did like to have it remember. Sometimes when I was doubting myself it was nice to look at it and remember how solidly she had believed in me. “What do you mean I haven't acted like I wasn't over you?”

Jane sighed. “Come on Shannon. Jared isn't the only one that can use the internet. You have certainly been partying it up. I come across those videos sometimes and I don't think I ever even knew you.”

I think out of everything she could have said that was probably the most hurtful. When things had been rough I had often thought of the way Jane saw me, tried to remember that I was so much more than my fuck ups. But if she was wrong... “Jesus, Jane.” I didn't know what else to say. Jared looked like he'd won the fucking lottery. I was going to beat the shit out of him tonight, I didn't care how old we were.

“I'm sorry. That sounded a lot harsher out loud than it did in my head. I just meant that we had this little fantasy bubble, it wasn't real. Reality would have crushed us.” Her face was so sad now, and I imagined the disappointment she must feel in looking at what had become of me. Fuck. Jared had warned me about behaving in front of cameras and I had just blown him off. What the hell did I care what people thought?

“Please don't think I regret anything. I've missed you too, I really have.” She looked over at Jared. “You're a fucking prick.”

Jared just shook his head. “No, I'm putting this thing to bed once and for all.”

I stood there in silence, not sure what to do with everything I was feeling. It was true I hadn't exactly been standing around letting life pass me by while I waited to see if Jane would ever turn up again. But I hadn't really examined what I'd been doing at all, I had just been living the moment. Jane grabbed the book I had handed her to sign and finished writing something in it and then handed it to me.

“If you're not too mad at me. I'd like to get to know you again.” I opened the book and saw she had written her number inside. “I'm sorry it's not much of an inscription. I don't think I could say everything I need to on a flyleaf. I have an interview to get to but call me tonight if you want?” She gave me another hug, again without a sniff, and then she was gone.

@msroxyblog @nikkitasevoli @maliciousalishious @meghan12151977

#shannon leto fanfiction #jared leto fanfiction #thunderbirds

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floweringthewords · 7 years

Text

Lost Love.

VOILA

I went into work frustrated and left feeling the same. Even my friend Helen asked if I was okay. I wanted to tell her that no, I was not okay, because somewhere out there this dude is singing about an almost identical situation to mine and I have had zero luck finding out who he is or looking up the song because it’s been so busy, and this was going to bother me until I went the fuck home and either confirmed or denied this so I could feel better. Once the work day was done, I stop by the Starbucks across the street for a bagel and some coffee to lift my spirits. A part of me was convinced the song was following me; it played once at work and I thought it might start playing as soon as I entered. I open google while I waited in line, searching Lost Love and getting mixed results, mostly just a bunch of corny quotes and articles. I attach a lyrics that I remembered from the song vaguely, hoping there would be some kind of match. The first video to pop up directed me to Youtube and a band’s channel called the Maine. The Maine? I nervously press play, the sound of waves growing until the image fades in. A man sat by the ocean with his arms resting on his knees. The camera was focused on his long fingers for a moment, then another shot of tattoos on his arm, before finally panning up to his thin lips and- Oh my God. I pause the video to process his features. There was no mistaking that face or those hazel green eyes and long lashes; the strong jaw and big nose. No doubt left that it was him. Shocked, I hardly hear when I’m called next in line, walking up frazzled and stammering as I give my order. I leave my phone at my side, leaning against the wall near the desk while I try to understand. How the hell did I not know? I never heard from him after he dropped out. He left unexpectedly after the semester was over. No explanation, no apology, just vanished. I never knew he’d dropped out and gone to make music for a living. The barista calls my order and I quickly take it before rushing back to my car. I resume the video, watching his solemn expression as his eyes remain on the water. “John!” a voice calls out his name, and a small separate person in me does a tiny flip inside my stomach. He turns, saying he’d be right there as the camera turns to a group banded around a campfire but I already longed to see his face. He’d changed so much but he was still the same. And he’d gotten so handsome. The next scene shows him staring at his phone and opening his music I gape as he scrolls to Bittersweet Symphony and presses play. Rising to his feet, he walks toward the water and takes a deep breath, the wind ruffling his hair. “I’ll swim until I wash up to shore to you if I have to,” he whispers and I feel my pulse quicken as he submerges slowly into the water, showing a shot of his body down below. “What the fuck,” I mutter, taking it all in. Was this him calling out to me? It felt like too much of a coincidence and too specific a message for this to be about anybody. But I just… I didn’t understand. He was never in love with me. The sound of the song is muffled as his arms make long strokes, his loose white shirt floating around him and I grow mesmerized, wishing I could reach out and grab his hand and tell him I was right here. I never went anywhere. He was the one who left. Their own song merges cleverly with the one playing as the music video begins, but I had to stop watching. I still couldn’t believe it. All this time I had always wondered but never even thought to look him up. And now he’s staring me right in the face and following me around like a breeze. I was about to search for his name alone when I noticed it in the suggested links. “John O’ Callaghan of the Maine Talks About New Album, Lost Love, and Band’s Rise to Success.” I could never forget that name. Just as soon as I click on it, I’m overwhelmed by him smiling at the camera and introducing himself with that ridiculously long name and stupid permanent smirk. That slanted smile hasn’t changed a bit and now I was crying because that was definitely him. I had already known that, but it still didn’t feel real until I could truly put the face to the voice. My mind didn’t notice the interviewer already talking and I go back to hear his question and John’s optimistic nod and openness. “-is in the top 50 now. How has that been for you, y’know as part of an independent band and always having been keeping yourselves sort of under the radar?” His lips slant up and he scratches his head through his grey beanie. “Uhh, it’s been weird, yeah. I’m not used to turning on the radio and hearing, well me. It’s like, I try to change the station but ten minutes later I’ll hear the song and I’m like, ‘Oh, hey, that’s kinda cool. But shut the fuck up.’ I kinda get sick of it.” He laughs goodheartedly and crosses his leg. “But yeah, it’s definitely weird as well as incredibly humbling because we’ve gotten this far and that wouldn’t have happened without our fans always driving us on to keep making music.” “Yeah, it’s insane the traction that you guys have gotten with Lost Love. I mean, it’s playing on almost radio station. Were you a bit scared at first to release something so personal? Were you afraid of how people would react to this…well, declaration of love to put it simply?” My nerves tingle and he licks his lips as he sits up. “I think maybe at first. I mean I’d never talked about it to anyone except close friends so to reveal that was kind of terrifying. It’s something that I’ve kept to myself for years and I had always sort of had a neverending draft of what I wanted to say to this girl, and I haven’t seen her since college. I don’t know, the timing this time around for this album felt right and I wanted to give the fans something sincere, while still just doing it because I wanted to. It felt like a weight off my chest.” “Has the one you wrote the song about gotten in contact with you ever since the release of the song?” My mouth dries and I watch as he flashes a tight lipped smile. “No, no I don’t think she even knows about it or has heard it. I never talked to her again because I’m…an idiot, basically.” He does an open hand gesture as he shrugs and I huff, agreeing. “Let’s ask the real stuff. Were you ever in love?” I snort to myself, getting ready for the response that I’d been prepared to hear almost ten years ago. He’d find a way of breaking it to me and the rest of the internet soft. No, I think I was just infatuated. We were just kids so we only thought it was love. I liked her a lot but it wasn’t serious. He’d break it to me the only way he could, with his charm. This should be good- “Yeah, yeah I think it was love. But I never told her and that’s what that song is about, regretting I never did.” Wait. WHAT. “What?!” I shout at my phone, feeling my face heat up, both at embarrassment and anger. He fucking loved me? And he never told me? “And you never tried to find her again?” the man asks him. John gives a sympathetic smile, apparently not really knowing how to respond. “I always thought I was too late and I missed my chance. She was probably mad at me anyway.” “You fucking idiot,” I mutter, shoving my keys in the ignition and starting up my car. I was going to find him and I was going to fucking kill him.

I end up driving past College Avenue until I remember the way through his neighborhood, spotting the gates and being ushered through. I’d done my research and found out they’d just gotten back from a tour in the UK, so if anybody knew about his whereabouts, it was his mother. I’d no idea what she would think or do when she saw me, but hopefully it wouldn’t send John running for the hills. I’d bottled up my confusion and hurt for months when he left, and I was ready to let him have it. He was going to get everything he deserved. Pulling into the old driveway, I wipe my palms on my thighs, tugging down my shorts in fear of Jenny disapproving. I didn’t need her thinking that the woman her son wrote a song about wasn’t right for him. Not that I gave a shit, but right now I was scared and I gave a shit. I take a quick look in the rearview, making sure my light brown waves were in place and that I didn’t look as mousy as I feel inside. Just walk up the front steps, I tell myself. It’ll be fine. She probably won’t even remember you. Knocking on the front door, I stand there anxiously as I wait for it to open. I pray with every ounce of my being that he wasn’t making a quick visit because I didn’t know if I was quite ready for that yet. Jenny’s face greets me and I breathe out a sigh of relief, feeling fireworks going off behind my brain and the little me inside me waving a patriotic flag for non-embarrassment. “Marty?” she says in a surprised, but yet somehow still motherly voice. Her short hair bobs as she shakes her head, eyes closing for a second. “Oh my goodness.” “Um, h-hi, Mrs. O’Callaghan,” I say, the little me sitting the fuck back down. She beams at me and opens the door a bit wider. “Hello, dear! Wow, it’s so good to see you. How are you?” “I’m well,” I mutter, clearing my throat. “I didn’t think I’d find you or if you’d even remember. I know it’s been a long time.” She clicks her tongue. “How could I forget? All the time John brought you over, I thought for sure he was going to announce you two were finally together one of those days.” My cheeks tinge warmly and I bite my lip. “Right. Th-That’s actually why I’m here-“ “You’re looking for him, right? You heard it?” I open my mouth to speak, but I can’t bring myself to form any actual words and merely nod instead. Jenny grins warmly and rests her hand behind my back. “Come in. He’s coming over in a bit, you can join us for dinner.” My eyes widen. Oh God no. “He’s coming over now?” “Relax, honey. You have nothing to be nervous about. You’ve no idea how many times he’s called me just this month about how badly he hoped you’d call him or find a way to get in contact. A part of me knew you would show up here though.” I swallow and I try to process what she was saying. He’s had me on his mind for this long and he’s waited till NOW to fess up? And he couldn’t tell me about this damn song instead of driving me insane for almost a decade? “If you want I can give him a call,” Jenny suggests, seeing the expression on my face. I shake my head. “N-No that’s fine. I think I prefer him finding the unexpected visit himself.” Jenny shoots me a glisten-eyed look. “He’s going to be so happy to see you.” My heartbeat picks up and I grit my teeth. God dammit, the more she talked about it, the more I remembered how his lips and hands would feel and the less angry I was getting. Fifteen minutes late, I sat impatiently with a glass of water in hand, hearing the car pull up in the driveway but too nervous to peak. My heart was racing 80 miles a minute because it’s been ten years of not knowing anything and now I knew everything and he was just on the other side of that wall. The doorbell rings and I try to keep my emotions in check as I get the courage to stand, letting Jenny answer the door. I could see his shadow in the hall as he kissed her on the cheek. “Hi, ma. How are you?” “Oh, I’m fine. More importantly than that, I think there’s something you’d like to know.” He chuckles and the heart going at full speed now screeched and crashed onto the highway. It wasn’t prepared for the sound. In person. “Yeah? What’s that? Did pops break his leg again?” “No. There’s somebody here to see you.” It’s silent and I have no way of knowing what his face looks like. The longer I waited, the more I longed to see it again and finally sear it into my brain the way I would when we’d lay across from each other and joke about getting divorced if we were to ever have a future together. It felt so far away ago. Jenny mumbles something I can’t hear before moving into the kitchen, leaving him standing alone just around the corner. Did he know what was waiting for him? Finally, I hear him exhale and I raise my head despite wanting to completely hide. His gaze met mine as I felt the space between us getting closer. Suddenly we were face to face and his eyes were vivid and wide. “Mars.” Fuck. He hadn’t called me that since our last night together. I was done for. My hands cup his stupid perfect face and I press my mouth against his angrily, letting go of all the pent up hatred I held for him like he had let me go. At least I thought he had. This whole time and he was still holding on. His arms wrap around my waist in a tight grip, and feel the firmness of his chest that somehow felt so much bigger. I hear a whimper as it gets stuck in my throat and John raises his hand to my cheek, running his thumb along my freckles and reminding me the whole reason I was here. I pull away abruptly, breathless and his lips trying to pull me back but I hide my head under his chin. “Why did you go away, you dumbass?” “I’m so sorry, Marty,” he whispers, his nose in my hair. “You didn’t deserve that.” “The hell I didn’t. You didn’t even say goodbye.” My voice grows thin and I wipe my eyes weakly. “You didn’t try to explain o-or tell me the truth.” “I was scared,” he mumbles as he winces. “I didn’t know if how I felt was for real. I only realized it when I still found you on my mind at night, years later.” I shove on his chest and pull away roughly. “I still deserved something even as a friend. I was fucking hurt.” He swallows roughly. “I know. I never thought I’d see you again. I thought if you ever did hear the song that you’d just hate me more and I’d have to go looking for you like I should have the first time.” He gives a soft crooked smile. “I never thought you’d be the one to wash up to shore.” My hearts melts and the little me starts dancing while tossing petals over my head. I could feel every part of me telling me to stay mad at him, but it was telling me to kiss him already, to give the lost love another chance.

“I’m sorry, Matilda Martin,” he murmurs, resting his forehead against mine. “I’m so sorry. Everything I regret is in that song. I just wanted to find you.” Sighing, I close my eyes and put his hands back on my waist. It’s all I ever thought about when the side of my bed felt empty and the moon was out. And now he was here again and despite all the time we missed out on, it felt like the start of something brand new, and it was stronger. “I love you,” I tell him, unfiltered and sincere. “I always have.” His brows draw together and he kisses me once more, carrying me over the clouds and above the water. “I love you. To Mars and back.”

#Now THAT’S what I call a comeback folks #C #one shot

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islareeveswriting · 7 years

Text

Happy Birthday H | Bright Red | Harry Styles One Shot

Morning. Just a little birthday one shot seeing as it is a certain someone’s birthday. Hope you enjoy it. Ixx

The excitement really hit you as the plane touched the ground in LA, you were there. It had started when you first booked your ticket, what felt like months ago but really had only been days. It had increased when you finally sat down on the plane and had stopped you from getting any decent sleep the whole flight. But now, as you were sat in the passenger seat of Glenne's car it was tumbling inside of you like a wave. It would settle for a few moments but then quickly rise before crashing down and giving you a shiver of anticipation.

You were glad for the sunshine that was warming your face that would have been numb from the January weather had you still been in London. It was a welcome relief, as you walked out of the airport with Glenne towards her car, to be able to forget about your coat and drape it over your suitcase. As soon as you’d stepped off the plane you’d grabbed the sunglasses Harry had bought you from your bag, and you hadn’t put them away yet. It wasn’t particularly warm for LA, it wasn’t summer after all, but to you who hadn’t been out of London for months it was positively tropical.

Glenne offered to take you back to hers first to freshen up but you declined. A shower could wait, despite the tiredness and clagginess you were feeling, you just wanted to get to Harry and see the look on his face when he saw you. You’d told him you wouldn’t be able to make it out for his birthday before he’d even left and again the previous day. You felt awful when you saw the saddened look on his face, especially when you knew it was a lie. Originally you weren’t sure you would be able to make it so you thought it would be best to tell him you couldn’t so you wouldn’t let him down. When you’d found out you would be able to make it out to LA for his birthday Jeff had suggested keeping it quiet and surprising him. You couldn’t resist, even when you heard the reserved understanding tone in Harry’s voice. He was understanding but if it was up to him you’d be by his side every single day but in particular on his birthday.

Glenne pulled up outside the recording studio. You’d been there before, Harry had recorded in the same studio with One Direction on the odd occasion and you’d been there with him once. You thanked Glenne, telling her you’d see her later as she handed you your bags and you made your way into the studio. You followed the corridor down to the room at the back. It was exactly like you remembered. The producer, who you half recognised from a brief introduction in London, was sat at the desk and looked up and smiled as you entered. Due to the design of the room, Harry couldn’t see out to the desk from where he was stood in the recording booth. The producer greeted you with a hug and asked all the polite questions, how are you, how was your flight? And you responded accordingly.

You sat down next to him and he handed you some headphones which you placed over your head, Harry’s voice filling your ears. He sounded as perfect as he always did. He’d told you he’d be recording this morning and you’d commented that didn’t sound like the best way to spend his birthday but he’d told you, as you anticipated, he didn’t mind too much. He enjoyed recording and it needed to be done. You’d hoped he’d be having a lazy morning at home so you could surprise him there but now you were in the studio and listening to him finally recording the songs he’d been writing and working on for months, you were glad he wasn’t.

‘That sounds great H.’ The producer commented as Harry finished and his voice faded away. The producer looked to you and winked. ‘Just one thing…’

‘Happy Birthday baby.’ You said into the microphone with a giggle. You looked out into the studio and saw Harry turn in the booth to look back at you.

‘Shit.’ You heard him exclaim through the headphones you were still wearing. You chuckled as you took them off watching Harry leave the booth and disappear out of the studio room. Seconds later her was bursting his way through the door and marching towards you, a large grin on his face and tears in his eyes. You were standing now and within two steps he was in front of you, his large, muscular arms wrapped around you and lifting you off your feet. ‘I thought you couldn’t make it.’ He said still holding onto you tightly almost as if he feared letting go of you. You chuckled and pushed back against his chest so you could look up at him. Before you could speak he pressed his lips into yours fiercely and you kissed him back with just as much passion. You’d missed him indescribably, life was always a little greyer without him around at home, it all seemed a bit brighter when you were together, feeding of one another’s energy and revelling in each other’s presence.

‘Pulled some strings.’ You told him with a wink and his smile only got bigger. ‘Jeff suggested surprising you.’ You told him and he rolled his eyes to which you chuckled.

‘I’ll kill him.’ He threatened before turning to the producer. ‘Do you mind if we call it a day?’ Harry asked taking your hand as he turned away from you. The producer nodded with a smile and you couldn’t believe how grateful you felt. ‘Thanks mate, I’ll let you know when we can get back in.’ Harry turned back to you giving you another hug before grabbing your suitcase and your hand and leading you out of the studio.

He took you to his car in the parking lot and you hopped in. You stopped to grab take out coffee and bagels and then drove straight to Harry’s house. He didn’t let go of your hand the whole way. Even when he pulled up inside the gates of the house he was out of the car and taking your hand, helping you step out before you could even unbuckle your seat belt.

‘I’ll grab your bags later.’ He told you with a smile, the same smile that had appeared at the sight of you. You followed him to the house that you’d finally grown accustomed to. It was large and imposing, but beautiful and very Harry - filled with artwork by artists you’d never heard off and beautiful furniture. It was lighter than the London home you now shared and more open, it wasn’t as cosy as your London home but for the short periods you were in LA with Harry it was a nice break. It always made time in LA feel like a holiday.

You sat together in the living room eating your bagels and sipping on coffee. You asked him how his birthday had been so far and he shrugged telling you ok, better now you were there to which you laughed. You made the normal small talk as you ate.Once you’d finished your bagel you excused yourself for a few moments telling him you needed the bathroom but sneaking out to the car to fetch his present from your bag. You were excited to give it to him and couldn’t wait any longer now the excitement of seeing him was settling down.

His eyes went wide as you entered the room with the large, brightly wrapped present. He chuckled nearly choking on his coffee.

‘What’s this?’ He asked putting the cup on the table and dropping his legs from it. He pulled them up under himself folding them as if he were a child. You handed the gift to him and he took it cautiously.

‘Happy Birthday H.’ You said with a smile giving him a sweet kiss before sitting down next to him. He looked from you to the present and back to you, giving you big doe eyes. He looked like a toddler version of himself, not sure whether he was allowed to open it or not, waiting for confirmation with eagerness in his eyes. ‘Open it.’ You encouraged with a giggle. You watched on nervously, chewing at the loose skin around your nails, as Harry pulled at the sellotaped paper. He seemed to take too long and you began bouncing your knee in anticipation as Harry finally unfolded the paper from across the centre to reveal the bright red fabric underneath.

‘Oh my god Y/N, is this what I think it is?’ You smiled as Harry pulled the fabric from the paper completely holding it up. The coat fell to its length and you heard his breath catch. You knew he’d been eyeing it up for a while and you couldn’t resist going into the store and purchasing it for him for his birthday. ‘Y/N you shouldn’t have.’ He said looking to you a mixture of happiness on his face and guilt. He never liked having money spent on him but that wasn’t what this was about. He deserved to be spoilt. He always ensured everyone else was spoilt that he didn’t always think about himself and he’d worked tirelessly recently, he deserved it.

‘It’s fine.’ You told him gladly accepting the kiss he was leaning over for. ‘Do you like it?’ You asked and he nodded wildly looking back to his new coat. ‘Try it on.’ You encouraged feeling nervous once again.

He stood up and unbuttoned the jacket. You hadn’t wanted to take the coat out of the fine paper and bag that the store had wrapped it in but you knew he’d know what it was instantly if you hadn’t taken it out, you were just relieved it hadn’t creased. Harry pulled the coat on over his t-shirt and jeans. It looked incredible, you knew it would do, red suited him and he didn’t wear it enough. It complimented his golden skin tone and his dark hair and features. He looked regal as he stood before you pulling the coat at the collar until it sat just right.

‘Looks amazing.’ You told him sincerely looking him up and down.

‘Yeah?’ He asked. You nodded and silently egged him on to check out the pockets but he didn’t just looked down at himself and moved the coat around on his body.

‘Check out the inside pockets.’ You told him, he looked at you a little confused as you expected but he wasn’t going to do it unless you told him to. He did as you said reaching into the inside of his coat. His brow furrowed further and you knew he felt it. He pulled out the two rectangular pieces of paper and stared at them for a few seconds. Eventually he looked up at you his eyes wide. You smiled.

‘How did you get these? They were sold out?’ He asked the joy evident on his face. You chuckled.

‘Pulled some strings.’ You told him simply. Working in the music industry meant you had contacts, that was how you met Harry in the first place. You knew Harry had wanted to get to the Kings Of Leon show whilst he was in LA but he hadn’t been able to get tickets. You used all the pulling power you had to get your hands on the tickets and you owed someone a massive favour but it was all worth it for the look on Harry’s face. He looked like a child that had just been told they’d been given a sweet shop for Christmas.

‘Y/N you’re fucking amazing.’ Harry said with a huge grin moving quickly towards you and bending down to your level. ‘Thank you so much, I don’t deserve you.’ You giggled as he kissed you again. You took it upon yourself to deepen the kiss, there was just something about him in red. You prised his mouth open with your tongue before darting it against his. He groaned into your mouth and you grinned happy with the response. ‘I’ve missed you.’ He said pulling you to your feet placing the tickets on the table. He lifted you from your feet and you wrapped your legs around him and the coat.

‘Leave the coat on.’ You instructed as he began moving toward the bedroom your hands tangled in his hair as he attacked your chest through your t shirt with kisses. He chuckled darkly but you knew he’d comply.

If missing him and being missed by him was grey, then loving him and being loved by him was bright red.

#Harry Styles #Happy Birthday Harry #Happy Birthday #Harry Styles Birthday #harry styles fic #Harry Styles Fan Fiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #One Directon #one direction fan fiction

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