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kenmasangel · 3 years

Note

Heya! I just read your tall fem s/o x reader, and uh, I have a request for another one. Iwazumi, Kenma, and Osamu with a reader that’s very tall (5’8-5’9 ish)

One recommendation from a tall girl, if you’re making a fic about the reader being tall, please don’t just make them the same height as them 😅 (I mean, it’s fine if you do, but it’s really hard to find fics for us taller girls with shorter guys) (it’s frustrating to see fics always being like “he helps you get things from the top shelf” or “he rests his chin on your head” or always being shorter than them-) <3

[hc] dating a tall s/o;

(iwaizumi h., kenma k., miya o.)

ᴀᴀᴀᴀᴀʜ ᴏᴍɢ ᴛʜɪs ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴍʏ ᴅᴀʏ!! ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ɪᴛ,, ɪ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇɴ'ᴛ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ғᴀɴғɪᴄs/sᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏs/ʜᴄs ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴀʟʟ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀs sᴏ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴍʏ ᴛᴀʟʟ ᴋɪɴɢs/ǫᴜᴇᴇɴs/ʀᴏʏᴀʟs ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇɴ ɪ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴍᴇʜ

ᴀʟsᴏ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ! ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ᴄᴏɴsɪᴅᴇʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪғ ɪ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪ,,, ᴛʙʜ ɪ ᴡᴀs ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ᴏғ sᴛᴏᴘ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪs ʙʟᴏɢ ᴀɴʏᴍᴏʀᴇ sɪɴᴄᴇ ɪ ʟᴏsᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴏᴛɪᴠᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛ ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʟʟʏ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ᴍ ɢʟᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ!!

p.s. i understand how difficult it is for tall girls in this society but i hope you guys know you are wonderful and you mesmerize me (❁´◡`❁)✲ i love you so much please you are gorgeous !!

masterlist

Iwaizumi Hajime

he is MESMERIZED by you

literally he just can't stop admiring you

iwa and you are both 5'10", yet you're still taller than him by a few inches

he nuzzles in the crook of your neck when you guys hug

“you smell so good baby,” “are you sniffing me, hajime?”

he will throw hands if someone dares making a comment about your height

you already know he has beaten oikawa already

he gets SO FLUSTERED when your faces are mere inches away from each other

“baby?” you called iwa as he was facing the shelves reading the ingredients of whatever he was holding.

“mhm?” he turned around to face you and was surprised to see how close your faces were; you are slightly taller than him and that day you wore shoes that made you look a bit taller. he became crimson as he head was slightly up, he got lost inside your eyes for a hot min before you snapped him back to reality from his transe. “you got the wrong box,” you smiled at him, your hand reaching for another box one shelf above.

“you could've taken it without making me turn around, dumbass,” he quickly mumbles moving forward.

whenever you feel insecure about your height (which i hope doesn't happen often/ never happens) he won't hesitate to show you how much he loves your height, and how gorgeous you are and show you other tall girls to make you feel empowered

he will tell you by a plus b how society's standards are trash and how you shouldn't compare yourself based on them

“they're hypocrites AND irrelevant!”

go off haji!!😤

he's your #1 hype man

Kenma Kozume

you're obv way taller than him

he's 5'6" and you're one gorgeous 5'8"

it doesn't bother him in the slightest tho, he thinks you're the most gorgeous person to take a step on earth

but he never told you that tho, you know kenma's communication skills aren't the best

he loves it when you hug him from behind and rest your chin on his head,, he feels your warmth envelop him and it makes him feel at peace

when something he wants is up on a high shelf he would tug on your sleeve and nod in that object's direction so you can give it to him

he'll whisper a small “thank you” and stands on his toes to give you a quick kiss

whenever he hears someone talk about your height difference and how he should be the tall one he'd glare at them until they get scared

believe me if looks could kill half the population would be d€ad lol

he'd protectively hold your hand and make you walk quicker

“don't listen to them they're just dumb and insecure, dumb fucks,”

lev would always be teasing you lmaooo istg he has a d€ath wish

“yn-chan!! wow you're so tall, you should be dating someone taller than you or at least the same height as you!” you can already sense kenma glaring holes into his back. “someone like me for example!”

kenma : “that's it, it's done for this mf”

and there is a chair flying right in lev's direction

even tho he likes being the small spoon he also loves to hold you and make you feel protected and loved

he'd hold you from behind, kiss your head and starts caressing your head

everytime he thinks you're finally asleep he'd say stuff such as “you're so beautiful, ” “i love you a lot,” “if lev tries to get close to you i'll throw his 6ft ass back to russia and make a polar bear eat him,”

kenma best boi <3

Miya Osamu

here we have another man whipped for you

the way he keeps bragging about you is ridiculous

you have him wrapped around your fingers missy

anyway, the moment he saw you it was like an evidence to him: he wanted you be his girlfriend!!!!!

he loves it when you were things that highlight your beautiful legs: shorts, skirts, dresses

ANYTHING that shows your long legs

he won't hesitate to totally DRAG people making comments about your height, either they're just comments or mean ones

he likes when you guys are cooking together or just when you're with him when he cooks for you

he'd ask you to grab things on a high shelf just to admire you getting that thing easily

if he ever sees you getting on your tippy toes he'll playfully tease you

“tsk, what a shortie you can't even reach for that? don't look at me like that you look like a gremlin, ”

uhm sir? you and your 6ft ass better stfu

then he has to jump to get that thing and you'll say something along the lines of “oh look at your short ass having to jump to get it,, i bet suna would've just had to stretch his arm to get it”

“what? NO BABE NOT SUNA WTF!”

he always throws random compliments out of the blue like “look at my model of a gf,” “you're literally the baddest b on this earth babe how did i get so lucky?”

he's never afraid to loose you in the crowd cuz you always stand out for him

suna has a shit ton of videos of osamu fawning over you or talking about you while shoving his relationship with his perfect gf to atsumu

ngl atsumu is lowkey jealous but he'll never show it. “i like short girls anyway,” he pouts

suna : “see, funny you're saying that cuz that's not what you said the xx/yy at h:m, want to watch the video with me again?”

lol these mfs istg

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imagineslashers · 3 years

Note

Hi there! Could you please do some imagines of Beetlejuice and Michael having a trans guy s/o? Just anything in general would be great kfjsjs

hello! sorry i kinda died for a month or two, i’m graduating univeristy soon and applying for a justice job and we had another lockdown and-

well, you get the gist! anyway, love you guys for being so patient, i’m replying to all responses from now! yes that includes christmas requests, because we could all use a bit of holiday spirit in these trying times!! xx

enjoy!

Michael

- super indifferent

- he doesn’t really understand at first, it takes you having to sit him down and explain it

- he’s very quiet the whole time, because this is very new to him and he doesn’t quite grasp how it is you’ve been feeling

- however, Michael can see the way your eyes tear up as you get emotional explaining your journey, and he isn’t a complete asshole so he won’t tease you or interrupt

- when you’re done, Michael shrugs, and just like that you know you’re accepted

- he doesn’t treat you any differently, but he’s more protective of you because he understands the prejudice in the world

- Michael doesn’t tolerant anyone tormenting you or upsetting you in the slightest, and he won’t bother making it a long death, he’ll deal with it with just a twist of his huge hands

- then will carry you away from the person

- he actually kinda likes when you ask his opinion on clothes, since he rarely changes his, it gives him the chance to explore his taste

- he usually goes for revealing clothes, things that make your ass look great but he won’t let you wear it out of the house unless he’s right there with you to deter prying eyes

Beetlejuice

- wow, pretty much like Michael at first, you have to explain it to him because he’s usually hanging out with dead people and hasn’t had much exposure to the trans world!

- however, unlike Michael, BJ is super quick and enthusiastic at understanding

- he asks a lot of questions, and is always very accommodating

- if you’re not feeling very confident on any particular day, he’ll lay with you and just make dumb jokes, or be quiet (for a maximum of twenty minutes before he has to talk again) stroking your hair

- nobody is allowed to talk shit about you, he will find them and scare them so bad they will be at risk of a heart attack

- Beej is so proud, too, he parades you around, showing you off to others (dead or alive, doesn’t matter)

- gushes about you to other people and what you’ve been through, how excited he is for you to have made your journey

- Beetlejuice can be a bit over the top, but it’s all with good intentions, he just wants you to know how much he cares!

- don’t think he’ll be less comfortable with sexual stuff because this is Beetlejuice, he’s Constantly Horny, and will eagerly explore things with you within your comfort level

- he’s the ultimate supporter, actively seeks trans rallies and events which he attends with you wearing the most absurdly rainbow clothes he can find

#beetlejuice x reader #michael myers x reader #halloween #slasher #imagines #reader insert #trans male reader #fluff

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merakiaes · 4 years

Text

Confessions On Drugs - Finn Shelby

Pairing: Finn Shelby x reader

Requested: Yes.

Prompts: None.

Warnings/notes: Not proofread so I’m sorry in advance for any possible mistakes. I may have changed your request up a bit but I hope you like it xx

Wordcount: 3216

Summary: After being shot, you’re high on pain relief medication and accidentally confess your love for Finn in the presence of the entire Shelby family.

Being shot was not fun. In fact, it hurt like hell. Well, at least you thought it did. You were currently so high on pain relief medication that you could barely remember your own name, but you guessed that it had hurt, or else you wouldn’t have been where you currently were, lying in the hospital bed surrounded by the very family that had raised and taken care of you your entire life.

“How you feeling, (Y/N)?” John asked where he sat at your left side, watching you with amused eyes as you played with the rings on his fingers.

Your eyes narrowed slightly in concentration, giving it every ounce of your focus to turn all of the metal rings the same way. “Like I was shot in the chest.” You answered without ever looking away from his hand. “But I feel like I’m floating on clouds. Am I floating on clouds? Am I high?”

John chuckled, and the others with him. He nodded in confirmation. “Yeah, you’re pretty high.”

Your eyes instantly shot open and just like that, his rings were as good as forgotten, your attention instead turning to look around at the people standing around your bed. But the only face you could really make out was John’s, the others’ being too far away and only appearing a blurry mess.

“On cocaine?” You questioned, bewildered, before you turned angry, your eyes narrowing again. “I bet it was Finn who gave it to me, wasn’t it? Might as well paint his nose white with all the snow he’s been snorting.”

Everyone exchanged a look, eyes twinkling with amusement and lips tugging slightly at your sudden outburst.

Tommy raised an eyebrow, taking a step closer and leaning against the wall right beside your bedside table. “Why the sudden hostility against Finn?” He questioned. “Aren’t you best friends?”

You sighed dramatically, letting your head fall back into your pillow, staring into the ceiling as you answered. “It’s complicated.”

Finn, who was standing at the very back beside Isaiah and Polly, frowned, and spoke up before he could help himself. “Complicated?”

He was confused, to say the least. He wasn’t bothered in the slightest about your retort about the cocaine, as you had spent the past year pestering him about his drug abuse and trying your very best to get him to quit it. But when had your relationship gone from a normal one to ‘complicated’?

You only ignored his question, however, keeping your eyes glued to the chipped ceiling, talking to Tommy. “Do you want to know a secret?”

The man raised his eyebrows even higher at this, nodding his head slightly and taking a drag from his cigarette. “Sure.”

You hummed, bringing your hands up into the air and inspecting them, wriggling your fingers a few times before starting to trace the lines in your palm. “You know Finn?” You asked. “Your brother Finn?”

Everyone exchanged glances, but Tommy’s eyes were stuck on you. “Yes. What about Finn?”

“I hate him.”

When those three words slipped out of your lips, everyone was shocked, and Finn most so of them all, his entire posture growing rigid and his eyes hardening at what he was hearing.

Tommy was speechless for a moment, before he finally regained his composure and asked. “Why?”

“Eyes.” You answered simply, without even missing a beat. “Those damn eyes fucked me over. They fuck me over every day. It’s infuriating.”

You let out another dramatic sigh, still absentmindedly tracing the inside of your hand. “I can’t decide if I want to punch him in the face or have his babies, you know? Have you ever had that problem?”

Now this was what really shocked them. It had been a shock in itself to hear you utter the words “hate” and “Finn” in the same context, as they knew how close you were. But now, now they realized they might be on the way to an actual proclamation of love.

Tommy, now being shocked and slightly taken aback from the surprise and anticipation they were all feeling, lowered his hand holding the cigarette slowly, putting all of his attention on you. “I can’t say I have, but it sounds tough.”

You hummed in agreement, nodding your head lazily. “It’s the toughest.” You confirmed, narrowing your eyes as you thought. “I should just punch him while we make babies.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, and John, Isaiah and Arthur were all now snorting at the back of their throats and having to use every last muscle in their body in a desperate attempt to keep their laughter in.

And it only got harder to do so when a look of horror struck your face, finally realizing what you had just said. “No, wait.” You quickly corrected yourself. “I’m not that kinky.”

“You like his eyes, eh?” Arthur joined in then, leaning forward in his own chair and smiling smugly at you, not that you could see it as you were still focusing on your hand.

A simple sigh escaped your mouth. “Yeah.” You drawled sadly, sighing again.

“What else do you like?” John asked, and you answered without missing a beat.

“Cheese.”

“No-“ He chuckled, shaking his head. “What else do you like about Finn.”

“John-“ Finn began protesting, now a whole flustered mess where he stood, Isaiah silently laughing and looking as if he was on the verge of crying.

But he was ignored, as you had already started talking again.

“I don’t know.” Yet another dramatic sigh. “His face, I guess. His cute, stupid face. He’s tall, which is pretty hot. And he’s got nice hair, and freckles. Yeah, I like his freckles. He’s really cute and it’s ruining my life because I think about kissing him all the time. Whenever I look at him he’s just so cute and perfect, that little shit.”

You narrowed your eyes toward the end, starting to mutter about what a little shit he was under your breath while everyone was now silently teasing Finn.

“Does he know you feel this way?” John asked in a shaky voice, his entire body trembling with the way he was trying his hardest to not laugh out loud.

“Of course not.” You scoffed, rolling your eyes at him, to which he raised an eyebrow.

“Why not?”

“Have you met him?” You quickly responded with another scoff. “He’s too busy fucking whores, doing drugs and sticking his head so far up his own ass to listen to anyone but himself. He’s on the top of the world.”

You then made a face, starting to imitate Finn in a deeper but at the same time very ridiculous voice. “I’m a Shelby I can do this. I’m a Peaky Blinder I can do that.”

Polly, Aberama, Michael and Esme who had all been pretty natural up until this point were now having to try their hardest to keep calm, as well, and Isaiah, John and Arthur were practically dying, silently clapping their thighs and laughing quietly.

Isaiah was slapping Finn’s back repeatedly, and with every hit, he only blushed further and further.

“I’d be his if he asked, though.” You continued, too caught up in your own mind to even realize what was going on around you, or who you were even talking to in the first place. “Even though he’s a complete asshole. I’m 99.9% sure he doesn’t like me like that, but I mean, I’ll be fine. As long as he stays single.”

You shrugged naturally, and with the way John and Arthur were now both holding their fisted hands in front of their mouths to hold any sounds in, Tommy picked the subject back up.

“And you don’t think he knows about your feelings?”

You hummed, blinking droopily and finally letting your arms fall back to your sides, moving your attention back to the ceiling. “No, I know he doesn’t.” You answered, shaking your head.

“How can you be so sure?” Tommy asked, and you hummed again, smacking your tongue against the roof of your mouth repeatedly, which only added to the humour of the situation.

“He’s very loyal and sweet, but also very dumb.” You answered, seemingly without a single doubt in your mind. “Sometimes, I don’t even know if he’s got any functioning brain cells.”

And that’s when they couldn’t hold back their laughter anymore, Arthur, Isaiah and John howling out and triggering everyone else. The three of them had to bend over and slap their legs where they stood and sat, laughing so hard it could probably be heard all the way out to the street.

Polly crossed her arms, shaking her head at their antics, but she laughed too, as did everyone else but on a much lower level. Tommy joined in on the laughter, too, watching you fondly as you reacted by turning and narrowing your eyes at them.

“Why are you laughing? Are you making fun of me?” You rushed out angrily, pointing a finger at them. “I’m friends with the Peaky Blinders you know, they’ll cut your eyes out if I ask them to so you better not be.”

Polly shook her head and abandoned her spot at the back of the room, coming over to your bed. “No, we’re not laughing at you, love.” She assured you, and you turned your attention to her, calming down slightly. “We’re laughing at something else. How about you get some sleep, yeah? You need all the rest you can get.”

She gently pushed you back into the bed, smiling fondly at your pissed off expression all while starting to tuck you in under your blanket.

“Fine.” You snapped back, crossing your arms over your bandaged chest but nonetheless letting her adjust the blanket over your body so that you were comfortable. “I guess I am pretty tired.” You muttered.

After making sure you were situated in your bed, Polly turned to the others and slapped John and Arthur on their heads, motioning for them to get up. “Alright, that’s enough fun for today. Let’s not torture your brother too much, yeah?” She said, waving a hand in Finn’s direction, but as everyone turned and got a glimpse of his bright red face, their laughing only intensified.

But nonetheless, Polly managed to get them all out of the room, making sure Finn was going to be alright as he told her he would be staying by your side until you woke up again, before leaving to go back home herself.

Once she was gone, Finn finally allowed himself to take the chair at your side that John had previously been occupying, sitting himself down with an exhausted and flustered sigh, watching your peaceful face as you had already fallen asleep.

He took your hand in his carefully, and soon lulled off to sleep himself.

You weren’t sure for how long you were asleep, but when your eyes fluttered open again, sunshine was shining in through the window as opposed to the moonlight that had been illuminating the room before you fell asleep.

The first thing you noticed upon awaking was the slightly stinging pain shooting out from your chest and the way your head was spinning slightly, and the second thing you noticed was a warm hand limply clasped in your own.

Slowly, you turned your head to the side, and a soft smile automatically made its way onto your lips when finding Finn sleeping soundly beside you in a chair, his hair hanging in front of his eyes slightly.

Your thumb automatically caressed the back of his hand and he twitched slightly in his sleep at the small touch. You stared at him for another moment, before gently pulling your hand away from his and starting to sit yourself up, the aching in your back getting to much and telling you it was time to stretch your stiff limbs.

As you moved, however, Finn instantly woke up, more or less shooting out of his chair, eyes searching the room in panic before finally landing on you, struggling to sit up.

“No, you should lay down.” He was quick to protest, attempting to push you back down by your shoulders.

You met his eyes and smiled lazily. “I really need to stretch my legs.”

He looked at you for a moment, but soon nodded, and helped you sit up the rest of the way, watching as you slowly brought your legs over the edge of the bed, stretching them out.

He sank back down into his chair, leaning his elbows on his thighs, but not once looking away from you as you rolled your neck and stretched out your stiff muscles.

Feeling his stare burning into the side of your face, you turned your attention away from your legs and gave him a look.

“What?” You chuckled. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Do you-“ He hesitated. “Do you remember anything from last night?”

You raised an eyebrow to a start, but once you caught sight of the seemingly nervous expression on his face, you frowned, shaking head. “No. Why?”

He stared sheepishly at you, briefly glancing down at his lap and you instantly brought your hands to cover your face, catching on to what this was about. “I said some stupid shit, didn’t I?”

“You said some very… interesting things, yeah.” He agreed, and your heart instantly picked up speed, anxiety starting to settle in your stomach.

“What did I say?”

“I-“ He hesitated again, and you removed your hand from your face, giving him a desperate look.

“Come on, please tell me. Put me out of my misery.”

His eyelashes fluttered, a habit off his whenever he was nervous. He swallowed slightly, leaning back into his chair and grabbing a hold of the armrests. “You talked about me.” He finally told you. “About… having feelings for me.”

Terror instantly struck your face, your eyes widening and your entire body growing hot with shame. “What else did I do?” You asked, your voice now trembling, and you weren’t even sure you wanted to know the answer.

But now that the conversation was started, Finn’s answer came pretty quickly.

“You insulted my intellect on more than one occasion.” He told you, the corner of his lips tugging slightly. “Called me braindead, an asshole, questioned whether or not I had any working braincells, among other things.”

When hearing this, your eyes widened to the size of saucers, guilt instantly filling your entire body. “Oh, my God.” You said. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

“Are you sure?” Finn chuckled, but judging by the faint blush dusting his cheeks, he was just trying to lighten up the mood, in reality just as bashful as you were.

“Of course I’m sure.” You answered, shaking your head. “You might be… special. But you’re not an idiot. Jesus Christ, what’s wrong with me.”

You raised your hands to your face again, attempting to hide your shame.

“So you didn’t mean any of it?” Finn asked, and you shook your head, voice coming out slightly muffled against the palms of your hands.

“No, of course not, Finn.” You said sincerely. “I was high on pain medication. I would never call you stupid. I don’t think that at all.”

“I wasn’t talking about that.” He sighed. “I was talking about your feelings. For me. Was that just the drugs talking, too?”

With a sigh of your own, you slowly brought your face back out of your hands and gave him a hesitant look, feeling your ears burning hot with embarrassment. “I guess that depends on what I said.”

You watched as his eyelashes fluttered again, and you could feel your heart thumping violently inside your chest as he spoke. “You, uh, said you liked my eyes, my hair, my freckles.” He swallowed, chuckling slightly. “That my height was hot and that you… wanted to have my babies. Among many other things.”

“I-“ You couldn’t find the right words, looking down and shaking your head slightly. What was the point in denying the truth behind his, your, words, if they had already been confessed? You would have hoped your true feelings would never be discovered, but you guessed there was on going back now.

You sighed. “Well, I… I guess that’s pretty accurate.” You answered quietly, looking down at your hands and tugging slightly at the sleeves of your hospital gown. “I mean, you’re a Shelby, aren’t you? It’s no secret that the Shelbys are good looking.”

“(Y/N).” He said sternly, and upon glancing up at him through your lashes, you found he was looking at you with an equally as stern expression.

You gave a nervous laugh. “Ah, shit.” You cursed, falling back against the bed, squeezing your eyes shut and reaching your hands up to pull through your knotted hair. “Yes. Yes, I do have feelings for you and I have for a long time.” You finally confirmed, your heart feeling as if it was about to jump out of your chest at this point.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked seriously, and all you could do was shake your head.

“Because I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

He was quiet for a moment, and in that moment, all you could think was this is it. This is where he tells me how weird I am for having feelings for him and cuts all ties with me.

But then you heard the ruffling of his clothes, as if he was moving, and only a second later, you felt a warm hand carefully sliding onto your bare knee, followed by his voice. “You wouldn’t have.”

Your breath hitched in your throat and your heartbeat picked up even more speed at the feeling of his skin against yours, your entire body starting to tingle. You opened your eyes and brought your hands away from your hair, slowly pushing yourself back up on the bed, eyes looking into his uncertainly.

“You mean you-?”

He shrugged his shoulders and gave you a playful smirk. “You’re an asshole and sometimes I wonder whether or not you actually have any functioning braincells, but I guess you’re pretty cute, too.”

Your eyes widened to a start, not understanding what he was getting at, but when his playful smirk widened, you instantly realized he was mocking you and your shock quickly turned into shame again.

“I still can’t believe I said all of those things.” You muttered, bringing your hand back up to hide your blushing face.

The sound of the chair dragging against the floor could be heard, and soon, Finn had removed your hand from your face, taking both of yours into his.

Upon opening your eyes again, you found that he was now only centimeters away from your face, the realization taking your breath away.

“You also said you wanted to kiss me.” He revealed, not even trying to hide the way he was looking at your lips.

Your heart thumped against your ribcage. “Did I?” You asked, your voice barely even audible.

But he heard you, nodding his head. “You did.” He confirmed, finally tearing his eyes away from your lips, instead looking up to meet your gaze.

And then he leaned in and kissed you.

#finn shelby #finn shelby imagine #finn shelby fanfic #finn shelby x reader #Peaky Blinders #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinder imagine #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinder headcanon #peaky blinders imagine #peaky blinders headcannon #tommy shelby #john shelby #michael gray #arthur shelby x reader #polly gray #aberama gold #isaiah jesus

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thephantomofthe-internet · 5 years

Text

The Party’s Over

Flayed!Billy Hargrove x Reader

Word Count: 3,252

Warnings: swearing, violence, breaking and entering-just a whole lot of nope is happening

Author’s note: So this is a request! I don’t normally do requests, but I did this one! It’s a very loose interpretation, but here’s the request: If your requests are open: could you possibly do a billy x reader based on the song when the party’s over by billie eilish? I love love love your writing and I’ve just finished season 3 so I need some billy love xx thank you! I hope you enjoy, nonnie!

Tag List: @moonstruckhargrove @hotstuffhargrove @carolimedanvers @alex--awesome--22 @thechickvic @lilmissperfectlyimperfect @so-not-hotmess @agentsinstorybrooke @sunflowercandie @kaliforniacoastalteens @songforhema @spidey-pal @mickmoon

Heather had to have gone insane. It was like she was trying to get fired. Every weekend, there she was, bringing new people to the pool after hours. A little party heightened with drugs or alcohol or just the excitement of getting caught. It was a risk Heather was easily taking on, usually with your boyfriend at her side.

Billy Hargrove had gone off the deep end, no pun intended.

Ever since he found out that Heather Holloway was a secret party girl, they’d become best friends. And his whole personality had flipped. Well, flipped back. The Billy Hargrove you were dating wasn’t the guy you were introduced to way back in October. When he first arrived, he was an asshole. He slept around, he bullied or mocked anyone who seemed different or self-conscious enough to feel hurt by him, he treated everyone around him like shit or like they were disposable. The only people who could put up with him for more than a month were those looking for a boost in their own popularity. Tommy H and Carol had stuck around despite Billy pushing them away at every opportunity, purely because they wanted to suckled the teat of Hawkins High popularity, drinking it in.

You didn’t put up with any of his shit. You didn’t laugh at his jokes, you didn’t sleep with him or go on one of his little ‘dates’, you didn’t fall for his charm-you saw right through his bullshit. And that was frustrating to him; he wanted you to fall just like everyone else did. You were a challenge and he didn’t like those very much. But he was bored enough to keep trying. And eventually, after venting how tiring it was chasing you around was, you let him take you out just the once. And then you let him take you out a few more times, because what else were you supposed to do? Go out with Keith from the arcade? He was the only other person interested. Slim pickings meant that when Billy Hargrove came knocking, you answered.

And he wasn’t a bad date-he had a cool car; he drove fast, that was fun; he had good taste in music; sometimes he talked about interesting things; he was a good lay. He kept coming back too, you didn’t really get why. Neither did Billy, it wasn’t for love. He was bored of you after three dates. But other girls in town were more boring and they were annoying too. You weren’t annoying. You were almost cool. Like a friend he could fuck when he wanted. That was nice.

But you were busy. And the summer was long. And being surrounded by girls in bikinis all day, drooling over him. Things were bound to happen. Nothing serious, nothing bad. Harmless flirting with Heather, she threw good invite-only parties, what was he supposed to do? Mrs. Wheeler was easy to frazzle, which was always fun, and she was something interesting to do. Well, he didn’t do her, but he wouldn’t pretend that he didn’t try. Not that he would tell you that. You didn’t need to know that. It would probably hurt your feelings anyway, he didn’t want to do that.

But you weren’t naïve. You noticed the way Heather looked at him. You heard the rumors around town about what and who he was doing. You tried to pay it no mind, but you worked at Sam Goody in the mall, every girl in town circulated that store and they all gossiped about the same things. So, you dealt with it. You dealt with the rumors. He was your boyfriend. You knew him. He lied and he cheated and he stole, but he trusted you with everything. You were the exception, every girl he slept around with and never called again were the rule. And he was a stickler to his own rules.

Until now.

You didn’t believe the rumor that he was sleeping with Karen Wheeler; she was too much of a challenge, even for him. But the stories about Heather Holloway? Those made sense. Too much sense. Those were something to question. That was something to fight about. And you fought like hell. But Billy denied everything.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” Billy cried, running his hands angrily through his hair, pulling at the ends. He’d been wearing the same white thermal for almost a week straight and you were very weirded out by it. In part because it was beginning to smell and he didn’t seem to notice in the slightest. But mostly because it was boiling outside! Hawkins had been in a heat wave for two weeks now and everyone in town had been dying. Everyone, it seems, except Billy. Wearing that dumb thermal, always wandering around with a blue raspberry Icee in hand. He always seemed to be in a daze or actively upset. There was no in between. And you hated it.

“Oh come on! Don’t act like I’m stupid! I see what happens when I’m not around! We had plans last night to go out and you ditched me! Without even a call! And Jennifer Spears sees you driving to Heather’s house! Heather’s for god’s sake!” you countered, matching his volume. Billy had snuck into your house that afternoon, still not bothering to use the front door even though no one was home and no one was going to catch him or even be mad at him.

“Why don’t you trust me anymore? Jesus! When did you become such a clingy girlfriend?” Billy scoffed and you about near punched him square in the jaw. What kind of bullshit was that? You’ve never been clingy! You’ve always given him the space to be the lone wolf he insisted on being. You didn’t cling, you didn’t pressure, you didn’t do anything to get in his way.

“Oh my god…” you massaged the bridge of your nose, closing your eyes tight “This really isn’t worth it. Do whatever you want with Heather, see if I stick around?” you snapped, turning your back to him dramatically, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. You didn’t expect Billy to stay and you weren’t upset when he didn’t. He knew to leave you when you were pissed off, because you’d only bite his head off about whatever had ticked you off. You weren’t one to mess with when you were upset and Billy knew this.

Billy did exactly what you told him to do, he went out with Heather that night. And you didn’t talk to him for a week. But you didn’t let him get to you. When your friends dragged you to the pool, you made a point to flirt with Adam, the assistant manager from the pool, only because he was an ass and Billy hated it when he smiled his smarmy smile. He looked like he was about to sexually harass you at a used car dealership.

But it didn’t do anything. And for the first time, you saw it. You saw how Billy was with other girls. You saw the way Karen Wheeler flirted shamelessly along with the other moms on the left side of the pool. That didn’t bother you, although the way Mrs. Armstrong, with her cheetah print one piece and neon green visor surrounded by tightly curled frizzy blonde hair kind of made you nauseous. No, what upset you was the way Heather and Billy interacted. It wasn’t flirting. That would be too obvious. It was like they were speaking in code. It was full of nods and knowing, neutral looks. They whispered far too much, Heather even pointed you out in the crowd. At first, you thought she was mocking you. That made your blood boil. But her expression was so empty, her eyes so dead. And Billy shook his head. They began whispering harshly to one another and you wondered what they were arguing about, if they were arguing at all. That was when you decided to leave the pool. You didn’t know why you went in the first place.

The answer came soon enough. Billy called. This was a shock, he never called, he always just showed up randomly to wherever you were to confront you.

“Billy, what do you want?” you huffed after learning who was on the other end, dropping down onto the mattress with a dramatic sigh through your nose.

“Look, we fought, I’m sorry, can we move on?” he replied, matching your frustration beat for beat. You rolled your eyes, but nodded.

“Sure, fine, what’s up?” you asked bitterly, running your hands through your hair.

“We’re throwing a party tonight. Be there.” Billy barked. He seemed angry, but you didn’t know why.

“Who’s we? And where is it even?” you asked quickly. Billy had a nasty habit of hanging up the phone after giving you brief bits of information.

“At the pool, Heather’s throwing it. I’m helping. You in or not?” Billy returned quickly, rephrasing his wording quickly. You contemplated starting a fight about it; after all, you were still mad about Billy’s sneaking around with Heather. But you decided to hold off on it.

“You picking me up?” you asked.

“Sure.” Billy replied gruffly.

“Around eight?”

“Nine.”

“Alright, I’ll be ready. I’ll see you then.”

Billy hung up on you without a goodbye, although it didn’t really bother you. The sound of the dial tone was friendlier than his goodbyes. Besides, that just meant that he didn’t want to or couldn’t attempt to say goodbye. It was sweet. That’s what you told yourself.

You did what he wanted, although you weren’t excited about it. You didn’t like authority and you didn’t need the Hawkins PD chasing you down. But Billy wanted to go and you were sort of glad that he invited you. He didn’t want to go with Heather. He wanted to go with you. So you pulled out your best black one piece and covered it with your homemade cut off shorts and a plain tee shirt. You pulled your hair up and ran outside to Billy’s car before he could even blast the horn.

Billy didn’t talk while he drove, his jaw was far too tight and his gaze too stern. He looked nervous or at least tightly wound. But you didn’t comment on it. You assumed it was because of the risk he was taking even showing up. One more meeting with the Hawkins police and he’d lose the car for the rest of the summer. And he needed his car. You kept quiet and held your bag tightly to your chest, keeping your gaze focus on the streets in front of you.

As you pulled up to the pool, you saw Heather leading a group of kids into the pool. You were surprised by the group. Where was Carol? Tommy? Tina? Vikki? Fuck, nobody even pretended to invite Steve Harrington! It was a bunch of misfits. You noted Nick Cline, who was most known for playing the cello in the school band and puking onstage; Lisa Reid, who was the first person in school to get braces and still had them; and Curtis Rudolph; who got so stoned at Tina’s Halloween party the year prior that he flashed the whole party his penis and forgot about it. The rest weren’t anyone you recognized, but you noted the trend between the three you did. They were outcasts. Nick Cline was ignored even by fellow band geeks, Lisa Reid was declared the least bangable girl at Hawkins High via their list in the locker room, and Curtis lost everything after everyone found out all at once how creepy he was and how small his penis truly was. Nobody was fucking with them. Until now. Now, they were invited to an exclusive party by Heather Holloway, who was known for throwing the most exclusive, coolest parties in Hawkins and always getting away with it.

You were beyond confused.

Billy grabbed your elbow, pulling you back for a second. You turned to look at him, furrowing your brow. “What is going on, Bill?” you whispered, stopping in your tracks.

“Just wait for ‘em to go in. We’ll go in afterwards.” He replied easily, letting your arm go. You nodded, crossing your arms over your chest.

Heather peeked out from the gate and caught Billy’s eye. She waved him in, but Billy shook his head. Heather turned to you, smiling brightly. “Y/N! Come on! Leave the grump behind!” she called, laughing at Billy’s stern expression. You found yourself smiling too, something about her look made you want to smile too. It made you want to do anything she said.

You turned to Billy “Come on, let’s go. Before the cops shut this thing down. In and out quick, okay?” you whispered, looking up at him with the big doe eyes that you knew melted his heart. Something in Billy’s expression changed, his gaze softened slightly and he seemed conflicted with himself. But Heather’s musical tone call out to you again, beckoning you in. She had become a sort of siren and you weren’t refusing the sailor’s song she sung for you. You ran towards the gate. Billy couldn’t help but follow.

The group was circled together on the deck. Heather took the centre, raising her hand to silence everyone. “Alright! Everybody go and change in the change rooms and shower off! I won’t have you contaminating the water just for fun!” she explained, still with that fun party girl tone that lured you in. Everything about her face screamed that the situation was very serious, but her voice was so upbeat and fun that it distracted everyone around you. It distracted you too, you followed the line of awkward girls heading towards the locker room. Billy pulled you back roughly.

“Stay here, okay? She’s just bugging the nerds.” Billy said softly. And he smiled. That threw you for a loop, he’d been so annoyed all day, but now he was grinning at you like you hung the moon. And that was distracting you, it held you in place as he headed off behind the boys. You dropped your bag on the white lounge chair behind you pulling off your tee shirt and shorts before sitting down on the edge of the pool, dipping your feet. The water was far too cold, someone had turned the pool heater off completely, letting the water turn to ice on your feet.

The group was gone for far too long, it made you nervous. You kept your eyes on the doors, waiting for someone-anyone-to emerge. But nobody came out. You stood from edge, peering towards the doors, inching back to grab your bag. You had a bad feeling about this whole scene and you wanted nothing more to be out of it, even if Billy would get pissed about it.

Before you could even attempt to head towards the gate, Heather burst from the doors, grinning and giggling. “Y/N! Come in here and help me! Lisa’s got her braces stuck on her sweater vest I’m about to piss myself laughing!” she called, waving you over again. And you found yourself thinking that you could help for a minute. You didn’t have to run off now, maybe it would feel better in there.

The locker room was insanely humid. All the showers were running the hottest water they could, filling the room with steam. The lights had been turned off almost completely too, save for the one closest to the door entering the pool, leaving the room dark and eerie. Despite knowing that everyone had gone into the locker rooms, you couldn’t hear any voices. The only sound was from the showers running. Then, someone hit you hard against the back of your head.

You dropped to your knees immediately, losing your balance. You felt insanely dizzy and sick, you knew you were about to pass out. But you forced yourself to stay awake. You knew if you pass out, something worse would happen. Hands came to the back of your shoulders, forcing you to the ground. Heather hovered over you, her expression the same as it was at the door only moments ago.

“If you stay still it’ll be over faster.” Heather said with a sickly smile, looking up to nod at the person above your sightline. Your wrists were bound above your head with rope and you were dragged by them by the person just beyond sight. You screamed loudly, kicking your unbound legs wildly, aiming for Heather’s…anything. Anything to get her to stop this. But no matter how many times to struck her, she didn’t even flinch. She just kept walking slowly behind you.

“Billy! Billy help me!” you screamed as loud as you could. He was just in the other room, he had to hear you. But even if he did, he wasn’t there. There was nothing you could do now, fighting wasn’t working. The person dragging you bent down to pick you up, it was Janet Holloway to your shock and horror. How on earth did she get that strong? Her arms went under you easily and lifted you into the air fireman’s style. You contemplated fighting against her, beating her down. But you weren’t certain it would work. Instead, you let your body go limp, laying all your weight on her. Janet Holloway collapsed immediately under your weight.

This was your chance.

You bounced up, making a brake for the backdoor, not trusting yourself to be able to get passed Heather. You were so dizzy, your vision drifting in and out, but you made it out the door.

Tom Holloway grabbed you roughly by the shoulders, holding you in place as soon as you got outside. “Where you going, missy?” he asked with a cocky tone, his skin pale and sickly looking. He was sweating far too much, it was sickening. You struggled against his grip, trying to break away. Just like Janet, he was too strong, and it turned your stomach completely. You looked over scene, trying to find anything that could help you here.

They had a van, and people were already loaded into it, wrists tied and knocked out the same as they tried to do to you. Other than that, the area was desolate. No cars, no people, hell the streetlights were out. Everything was set up so you would get caught. So all those people would get caught.

Then, you found Billy. Moreover, Billy found you. He tapped Tom on the shoulder and he released you immediately. You fell into Billy’s arms, unable to wrap your arms around him, but so desperate to.

“I’ll handle her.” Billy said simply and Tom nodded, heading towards the van. The van sped off fast as soon as he was inside. You didn’t know where Janet and Heather were and you didn’t care. Billy would keep you safe.

“Billy, what’s going on? Where are they taking them?” you asked frantically, searching his face for any sign of humanity. But there was none. Everything about his expression was dead and empty. He wasn’t himself anymore.

“Just stay still, it’ll be over soon.” He said, laying you down, pulling a rope from his back pocket.

“Billy, what’re you doing?” you asked, trying desperately to pull your legs away. Billy held firm on them, not letting go no matter how hard you kicked at his face.

“Billy, I’m scared let me go.” You cried, kicking up at him.

“Don’t be afraid, it’ll all be over soon…” he said, almost sounding bored by the whole scene.

“Billy, look at me. Look at me!” you cried. Billy’s hands stopped for a second and he looked to you. A glimpse of his former self glinted in his eyes and you held onto it tightly. “Billy, this isn’t you. You don’t have to do this. Please just…just let me go…I won’t tell anyone.” Billy’s hands grabbed your legs hard, slamming them to the asphalt.

“Billy you’re hurting me!” a tear rolled down your cheek, your lip quivering violently. Billy looked up at you, shocked. His look…hurt. Like he didn’t want to be doing this. You held his gaze, letting a few more tears tumble down your cheeks and your nose run. Billy let go of your legs and reached into his back pocket, pulling a switchblade from behind him. You let out a strangled scream, but Billy shushed you. He brought the knife between your wrists and sawed through the rope, freeing your hands.

“Go.” He whispered. You saw the fear in his eyes, the sheer brokenness of his whole expression. You wanted to hug him, but you stayed still. “Go!” he cried and you shot up like a rocket. Abandoning your purse and clothes, you ran for your house, never looking back.

You didn’t know what could’ve happened, but you didn’t plan to find out.

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writtingrose · 5 years

Text

Dancing With a Stranger pt. 2

WARNING; Angst and Fluff

REQUESTED; yes. By the same anon as pt. 1

WORD COUNT; 1,204

For the next week, they ignored each other as much as they could. Neither of them wanted to face the fact that dancing with a stranger, let alone leaving with one, hadn’t worked. Of course, coming face to face meant facing the fact neither of them were moving on. Not in the slightest.

Y/N paced the halls of the arena. There really wasn’t a reason for her to be there anymore other than she was friends with half the roster. And that se secretly hoped he’d run into Seth at some point. Though she was also scared. What was she supposed to say? Hey, I know we split a few months ago but I’m still madly in love with you? That wouldn’t work.

She couldn’t help but think about the break up as she headed for Roman’s locker room, knowing he’s have advice on the situation. It had been fairly mutual when they split, both agreeing that his tiring schedule and the amount of times she couldn’t tag along were causing a huge strain on the relationship. Then there was his friend ship with Becky Lynch. Though Y/N know them both better than she knew herself, and knew he’d never cheat, the self doubt was always present. Still, the pain and ‘what ifs’ were still there.

Sighing, she brought her hand up to knock on the locker room door. She waited a few seconds before stepping on in, covering her eyes in case he wasn’t full dressed.

“Ro?” she asked, timidly stepping into the room. “I need to talk to you about the Seth situation.”

Now, normally, she wasn’t one to enter a room and call out her personal issues like that but she knew she could trust him with anything. Matter of fact, he was who she came too any time she had a problem or just needed to talk.

The only problem was, it wasn’t Roman staring at her wide eyed.

Seth stood in the door way to the shower, shirt half way down his chest. Y/N had been the last person he had expected to walk through the door. Across from him, she stood there, jaw slack and a blush evident on her cheeks,

“U-Uh hi.” She fumbled. “Why are you in Roman’s dressing room?”

Seth shrugged, a small smile on his lips.

“A couple of us had to double up. It isn’t like we haven’t shared before.”

Y/N wanted to smack herself, it was an obvious answer. She could remember more than a few times when they were together where the Shield boys had shared a locker room. Honestly, it was some of her best memories with all of them. Now though, they just made her sad.

She just nodded and turned to leave. “Right, if you see Roman tell him I came looking for him. Thanks.”

She reached for the door handle just as Seth placed his hand on her shoulder.

“Y/N, please wait. I’ve been wanting to talk to you but it seems like you’ve been avoiding me.”

She kept her shoulders strong, not showing the emotional storm going on in her body.

“That’s because I have been Seth. That’s usually what you do with exs, you avoid them.”

He noticeably flinched.

“It wasn’t that long ago we were the it couple.”

She spun around quickly, easily stepping up to his despite her shaking body.

“Don’t fucking talk to me about how long ago it was Lopez.” She spat. “I know exactly how long ago it was. I also remember one of us going out and clubbing the same night like it was no big deal.”

He opened his mouth to respond but she held up her hand.

“Don’t even fucking think about it. The only mutual think about it Colby, is that I would do anything to see you happy and I apparently wasn’t enough anymore. Honestly thought, I’m just thankful I wasn’t one of the dumb hoes you cheated on. Or at least don’t know you cheated.” She was steaming, finally getting out all the pent out hurt and frustration. “I fucking love you damn it! Why wasn’t enough?!”

She silently hoped he would look past her use of love and not loved, but fate wouldn’t be so lucky this time.

“Not enough? Not enough?” He scoffed and shook his head, hands moving to rest on her waist. “You’re more than enough Y/N Y/L/N. But what was I supposed to do? I had everyone coming up to me telling me what a piece of shit I was, that I was going to cheat on you like I did the others and that I didn’t deserve you.” He moved a hand up to cup her cheek. “I don’t deserve you. You’re like a gift that a man like me has done nothing to deserve. So, I left you. Before I could do something stupid and hurt you worse.”

Y/N sniffled, wiping the tear that rolled down her cheek. “You could have fucking talked to me Colby. You could have talked to me and I could have told you how wrong they all were. That our love, a love like that, doesn’t break. I trusted you with my life. And even when you and Becky got close, I never even worried about you cheating.”

Seth scrunched his eyebrows as brought his other hand to cup her cheek. “Becky and I?” He chuckled slightly. “There’s only one girl for me Y/N. Only one girl I want to spend yesterday, today, tomorrow, and forever with. That’s you. I love you, and I’m not going to stop. I’m sorry I let other peoples opinions lead me away from that. But, if you’ll have me, I’d like a second chance.”

Y/N nodded her head as a sob rippled from her throat, throwing her arms around him. “I love you Colby Lopez, you damn moron.”

Seth chuckled before pressing his lips firmly and passionately against hers.

“Never again babe. It’s you and me forever.”

She just smiled and laughed, hugging him closer to her as they heard cheering from off to the left.

“I take it, it all went well? Can I come out from hiding now?” Roman’s voice called from behind a locker Y/N just noticed was pulled out a bit.

She gave Seth a questioning look and he just smiled, shrugging.

“The locker was like that when we got here. But when we heard you know and knew it was you he came up with the idea to hide so we could talk.”

Roman stepped out and around and smiled, coming to hug them.

“I love and support you both, but also knew you were both being idiots and I’d have to come up with something. It was the perfect opportunity.” He shrugged. “I’m happy everything’s okay now. And if anyone else has something to say about it they can go through me.

Seth and Y/N both laughed, the kind of laugh you laughed when you were ludicrously happy, as they stood in each others arms. There were still things to talk about, a few more hurts to get out but they felt solid, stronger. Neither of them could place their hand on it, but they knew their love was forever.

. I promise I have not forgotten about my requests and have them all typed up. They’re not getting typed in a particular order, just when the inspiration hits. There is, obviously, a part one to this I suggest reading. Or you can just listen to the song by Sam Smith to get the idea. As always, feedback is very much appreciated.

All my love, Rose. xx

TAG LST; @biforbecky2belts @the-beastslayers-queen @moxleysbaby @sophiewolfheart-blog

#Seth Rollins #Seth Rollins fluff #Seth Rollins angst #wwe #wwe smackdown #wwe raw #wwe angst #wwe fluff #seth rollins fanfic #seth rollins x reader #wwe superstars

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danfanciesphil · 6 years

Text

Give Me A Try (New Chapter)

Gay Instagram Model/Bartender Phan AU Part 3

(Part One)

(Part Two)

(Read on Ao3!)

Dan’s in the middle of his break, scrolling through his phone, when a text notification appears at the top of his screen. He drops his bagel into his lap, cursing.

The text is from Phil. He doesn’t know any other Phil’s, so it has to be AmazingPhil, texting him, inexplicably.

He clicks the notification, eyes wide, simultaneously scooping up the bagel bits that have fallen onto his knees.

From: Phil To: Dan im in makeup for a weird photoshoot for some korean clothing brand and they just put loads of silver goo in my hair to make it chromey

As Dan is reading the message, searching between the lines for a reason Phil might be telling him this information, another text pings through.

From: Phil To: Dan whoops, i kinda meant to send that to PJ. but hey, if you’re interested, here’s a pic of me with ‘Kpop Idol Silver Hair Paste’ in lol xx

From: Phil To: Dan [image]

The phone slips from Dan’s fingers, clattering through his legs to the floor of the staff room. Phil has sent him a selfie. An un-edited, un-Instagrammed photo of his breathtaking face, up close. Sure, there’s a weird silvery goop in his usually raven hair, but still. Gingerly, Dan retrieves the phone, a small, strangled sound escaping from his throat as he surveys the image in front of him.

It makes a little more sense now that Phil has informed him that he had actually mistakenly texted the original message, but did the guy really have to follow up with a photo? He must, surely, be aware of Dan’s crush. He witnessed the brunt of Dan’s obsessive stalking in person on his phone, after all.

Bagel entirely forgotten, Dan just stares down into the pixelated blue of Phil Lester’s eyes, wondering how to respond, and if he even should. Deciding eventually that it would be rude not to, Dan shakily types out something he hopes is vaguely witty.

From: Dan To: Phil hahaha wow :’) kpop? more like kpoop. (it looks like bird poop, sorry dude.) x

From: Phil To: Dan hahaha it does ur so right. and if you think thats bad you should see the outfits… xx

Settling back into his chair, Dan bites his lip. As he thinks of a potential response, his eyes wander over to the spot, just to the right of him, where he and Phil had stood not long ago, when it had seemed like maybe, possibly, Phil might’ve…

But obviously that’s absurd.

Dan’s wishful thinking had clearly driven him to the point of hallucination, because the very notion that Phil Lester, AmazingPhil, the famous Instagram model, would ever have looked at Dan as anything more than a random bartender, is laughable.

Dan sighs to himself, then smirks. Well, just because he has no chance, doesn’t mean he can’t utilise his semi-connection to the celebrity to get some behind-the-scenes footage of his fave.

From: Dan To: Phil well now i have to see x

There’s a noticeable pause, and Dan wonders, panicking vaguely, if he may have pushed too far. Is it a little much to ask this of Phil? Maybe he just won’t respond, and Dan will have to quit his job forever, or maybe just spend his shifts on red alert that Phil will wander into the bar, and hide from him if he does-

He texts back.

From: Phil To: Dan [image]

From: Phil To: Dan hot, right? xx

For two long, uninterrupted minutes, Dan is frozen. Then, he lets out a muffled groan of frustration. The photo Phil sent is a full body shot taken by someone else; he’s dressed in an asymmetrical long white t-shirt with several long rips through the chest, some bright pink camouflage trousers, and a shiny silver puffer jacket with a black fur-lined hood. The outfit is a complete disaster, but it doesn’t matter in the slightest. His chest is visible through the slits in the tee; having seen it twice now IRL, Dan is drawn to the slivers he can see. The trousers make his eyes pop, and the jacket matches the silver streaked through his hair.

His pose is casual, feet apart, smirking at the camera, with his hands gesturing to his body as if to say ‘see what i mean?’. If he’d posted this on his Instagram, Dan gets the feeling he’d have saved it to his camera roll anyway, maybe even made it his phone background.

Dan’s done that with a few of his favourite photos of Phil in the past. He won’t even dwell on the time when Phil posted a photo of himself in the bath and Dan, in a semi-sleep-deprived fit of insanity, printed the photo out and stuck it on his wall.

Tyler came over once, weeks later, saw the photo taped above Dan’s bed, and tore the thing down. He’d told Dan, quite rightly, to stop being such a creep and keep his crazed obsessive behaviour to social media like everyone else.

“Who even has physical photos these days?? You’re like a fucking serial killer!”

Dan chuckles at this memory. He’s glad for Tyler, sometimes, even if he’s only good for keeping Dan’s stalkerish behaviour within the realms of normalcy.

Belatedly, he realises it’s been over five minutes and he still hasn’t responded to Phil. Also, his break is close to being over.

From: Dan To: Phil woww. please, phil of the future, tell me what life is like in 2087 x

From: Phil To: Dan stawwp. i keep laughing out loud at what ur saying and now the designer is sending me death glares :’’’D xx

Trying hard to ignore the fact that his dorky jokes are apparently literally making Phil ‘lol’, Dan checks the time, and sighs, typing out another message.

From: Dan To: Phil is the designer a martian? or maybe secretly one of those reptile-people? maybe skin him just to be safe. also my break is over so i gtg. have fun on set of NASA’s moonlanding recreation x

From: Phil To: Dan aww ur at work too? that sux. i forgot that u work at night lol. hope u stay dry this evening ;) xx

From: Dan To: Phil speaking of… why are u at work? isnt it kind of late for a photoshoot? x

From: Phil To: Dan well its 8am here so no haha xx

From: Dan To: Phil where are you? x

From: Phil To: Dan seoul :) hence the… unusual fashion lol xx

Dan’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead. He stands from his chair, throws his half eaten bagel in the trash, and looks around himself. He’s in the staff room - a small, dusty space with a row of falling apart lockers, a couple of chairs and a small table. There’s a hook on the wall which holds a load of unused aprons, and a rusty heater for when it’s especially cold.

He’s about to go back out to serve a load of rowdy customers some overpriced cocktails, then mop a dancefloor sticky with sweat, alcohol, and whatever other liquids might have found their way there. Then, he’s going to go back to his crummy flat way across in Kemptown, unfold his sofabed, and fall asleep to Netflix.

Phil, on the other side of the world in Korea, is having his hair, makeup and wardrobe done by professionals. He’s being treated like a celebrity, no doubt, and pampered excessively. Later, he’ll receive high-definition, professional photographs of himself looking gorgeous, and post them to his Instagram, where millions of people will tell him how stunning he looks.

Dan sighs to himself. How the other half lives.

The following day, Dan wakes up to find that Phil has updated his Instagram story, and posted the photo with the silver goo in his hair. The same one he’d sent to Dan. The caption reads:

Not sure silver hair was a good idea! The designer was going for Kpop, but ended up with Kpoop… can’t wait to show you guys the photos from this shoot! xx

Two things cross Dan’s mind.

First, Dan can now officially state that he had a sneak-peek at an official AmazingPhil photo before it was posted.

Second, the bitch totally stole his joke.

He smiles to himself ruefully, then decides to leave a comment. There’s no way that Phil will even see it - he’s never seen any of Dan’s others, or at least Dan sincerely hopes he hasn’t, as they’re mostly things like ‘choke me’ or ‘slap me round the face with your yaoi hands dad’.

Okay, maybe he tends to leave those sorts of comments when he’s less than sober.

This time, Dan just taps out a simple:

danisnotonfire: joke stealing is a low form of theft phil smh ;)

Still smiling to himself, Dan rolls over onto his side, and settles in to watch Phil’s story. The stories are usually long, silly, and full of adorable clips of Phil being clumsy and cute. As expected, this one is no exception. It’s a tour of Phil’s hotel room in Seoul, which is very posh.

Phil exclaims over the origami hand towels on his bed, the robe provided for him in the wardrobe, and the multiple options on the ‘disco shower’ as he calls it. Just as Dan is marvelling at the panoramic shot Phil has filmed of his view from the balcony, a notification pings at the top of his screen.

amazingphil replied to your comment: joke stealing is…

Dan sits bolt upright in bed, the sheets falling off him. He runs a hand through his messy hair, eyes wide. He clicks the notification before it disappears, heart pounding.

Oh no, oh no, oh no. Dan hadn’t intended for him to actually see. What if Phil thinks he’s being rude? He doesn’t actually mind Phil stealing his stupid joke about the hair goo. It’s an honour, if anything, that Phil finds his dumb joke good enough to post as a caption millions of people will read.

Heart thrumming, Dan finds the response Phil left.

danisnotonfire: joke stealing is a low form of theft phil smh ;)

amazingphil: @danisnotonfire aha i was kinda hoping you wouldn’t see ;D

Another notification pings at the top of his screen.

amazingphil started following you

“Holy shit,” Dan says to nobody.

amazingphil liked your photo

“Fuck,” Dan squeaks, clutching his pillow for support. “Stop it Phil, I’m gonna have a heart attack.”

Curious, Dan clicks the last notification, wondering which photo it was that Phil pressed the little heart for. To his surprise, it’s a selfie, one he took at work around a month ago. He took it during a lull between serving, if he remembers correctly. The lighting hadn’t been awful when he was doing his hourly fringe check in his phone camera, so he’d snapped a pic. It’s nothing special, just a moody expression and a wash of pink lighting across one half of his face.

amazingphil commented on your photo

amazingphil: nice pout ;) xx

Dan falls back into the pillows, mind obliterating itself into a thousand, tiny pieces.

Over the next few weeks, Dan has several text conversations with Phil. They’re usually started by Phil himself, who will - out of what Dan assumes is boredom - sometimes send him a random meme, a musing about his surroundings, or a selfie. For obvious reasons, Dan prefers the latter.

No matter how many times Phil reaches out via text, the surreality of it never fails to send Dan’s mind freewheeling. It always knocks the wind out of his lungs, it always makes him stop dead in his tracks, and it always leaves him struggling to recover for the next few hours. Whenever this happens at work, Tyler never fails to tease him mercilessly.

“Whoops! Please excuse him, sir, his mind has been blended by a single text from his crush,” Tyler tells a customer the fifth time Dan drops a glass behind the bar.

Dan scowls at his friend, but doesn’t try to defend himself. It’s true, after all. One text from Phil has him behaving like a moron. He becomes physically inept, unable to make the simplest drink.

One night, after the bar has closed, Dan and Tyler are cleaning up.

“So when’s he gonna stop torturing you over text and come sweep you off your beer-drenched tootsies?”

Dan rolls his eyes at this. “He’s not, Ty. He’s a rich and famous superstar, and I’m clearing up puke for the third day in a row.”

Dan wrinkles his nose as he continues mopping up the patch of vomit. He’s suspicious at this point; three days in a row is unusual. Is the same person coming in each night and spewing their guts all over the dance floor out of spite? Perhaps it’s some sort of hate crime.

“It’s like a Cinderella story!” Ty exclaims, pirouetting around his broom. “Except it’s gay, which makes it even better.”

Dan scoffs at him. “I’m pretty sure fairytales don’t involve stalking someone over social media and having them find out. He’s just taking pity on me because he saw that first night that I’m a fan.” Dan dunks the mop back in the bucket, turning to Tyler. “Besides, I’m pretty sure he has a boyfriend.”

Tyler sucks in a scandalised breath. “What! Who?”

Dragging the mop back to the supply closet, Dan laughs. “Remember the drunk guy he came with? The one who gave me a lovely Rainforest shower?”

“Him?”

Dan sighs, locks the cupboard, and nods. He digs into his pocket for his phone, and brings it over to show Tyler the photo of Phil and Charlie kissing. Matt, the security guard wanders over to see as well, letting out a low whistle.

“He’s a nonce if he thinks that guy’s behaviour was attractive,” Matt says. “He puked ‘soon as I got him out the door that night. All over the pavement.”

Dan looks at Matt, tilting his head in interest. “He did?”

Tyler plucks the phone out of Dan’s hand, zooming into the photo to have a better look, a frown on his face.

“Yep, your friend there came out, called him an Uber and sent him off,” Matt says. “Doubt pukey there would’ve made it home without him.”

“Nice guy,” Dan mutters, cheeks warm.

“This is staged,” Tyler announces abruptly.

“What?”

“Look,” he says, bringing the phone back over for Dan to see.

He zooms in on the crux of the kiss, right onto Phil’s face. Dan grimaces.

“Ty, I don’t want to see-”

“Shut up and look at his face,” Tyler interrupts, grabbing Dan’s chin and angling it towards the phone. “See how his lips are puckered? All stiff and pointed, like he’s kissing his grandma. And his eyes are open.”

“He’s looking at the camera!”

“Nah, Tyler’s right mate,” Matt says. The gum he’s chewing is making gross squishy sounds right in Dan’s ear as he leans over to look. “He looks awkward as hell.”

Dan narrows his eyes at the photo, trying to see what the others see.

“Besides, didn’t you say he hated that guy?” Tyler asks, clicking off the photo.

Dan tuts, snatching his phone back. “Well, apparently he was just being nice to compensate for the fact his kissing buddy covered me in sugary cocktail.”

He makes the smart decision to step away from this preposterous conversation before he does something stupid. Like allow either of these morons to give him hope that Phil is actually single.

Not that Phil being single would even matter.

“Or he was making it clear that he’s available!” Tyler calls after him as Dan stalks over to the staff room. “He whipped his shirt off for you twice and gave you his number. Do you think he’d do that if he had a boyfriend?”

“Drop it, Ty!” Dan calls back, shutting the staff room door behind him.

He will not let himself fall into the trap of daring to believe he could get someone as gorgeous, as hilarious, as pure and… amazing, as Phil Lester.

He won’t.

This is a good philosophy, in theory.

In practise, it turns out to be a lot more difficult. Dan finds this out to his cost when Phil strolls into Habenero the following Friday with Charlie Hickory at his side. Dan’s stomach sinks as soon as he sees the pair, the butterflies that appear each time Phil so much as acknowledges exploding into dust the moment he registers who Phil is here with.

Phil makes a beeline for the bar, a big smile on his face as he sees Dan. Warily, Dan smiles back, very aware that he is not exactly Charlie’s biggest fan.

“Dan!” Phil sings, chipper as ever.

Blushing already, Dan waves an awkward hand. He will never, he’s sure, get used to hearing his name on Phil Lester’s lips. “Hi. You’re back.”

“Of course! This is my local hangout now,” Phil says, winking. “Great cocktails, cute bar staff, crazy Bingo nights… this place has got it all.”

“Some people might not agree with you about the cocktails,” Dan can’t help himself saying, glancing at Charlie.

Charlie shuffles awkwardly on the spot. “Right,” he says, casting a look at Phil. They share a look that seems loaded with something Dan is not privy to, and then Charlie sighs, turning to Dan. “I wanted to, uh, apologise. About last time. Totally not cool of me to… tell you off like that. I was wasted.”

For an awkward moment, Dan waits for the actual word ‘sorry’ to leave Charlie’s mouth. It becomes obvious fairly swiftly that the dude feels he’s already said enough, so Dan just gives him a tight smile, and clears his throat.

“Oh, yeah man,” he says. “Let’s just… move on, I guess.”

If Charlie won’t say sorry, then Dan’s sure as hell not going to say he forgives him.

“So, drinks?” Phil asks, seeming to sense the taut atmosphere. “Maybe not cocktails?”

Dan can’t help the splutter of laughter, but Charlie shoots a dagger-like glare Phil’s way. It makes Dan’s lip curl; how could anyone be angry with Phil, of all people?

“Maybe some beers?” Dan suggests, teeth clenched. “We have a load of craft beers, or if you’re more into spirits I could make you guys a-”

“I’ll have a vodka and light tonic, no ice,” Charlie interrupts. “A double. If you use regular tonic, I will know.”

“Charlie,” Phil hisses under his breath.

They exchange another loaded look, and again Charlie sighs, turning to Dan with a fake smile. “Please.”

Swallowing the urge to roll his eyes, Dan nods, then gladly turns his attention to Phil. “And for you?”

“Oh,” Phil says, like it’s only just occurred to him that he needs to order as well. “God, I’m so bad at deciding, err…”

As he’s dithering, Charlie sighs. “Are you cool to get these, Phil? I’m gonna go find us a table.”

“You don’t wanna dance?”

“Not in the mood.”

Phil nods, obviously disappointed. “Okay, yeah, I’ll meet you in the back.”

With that, Charlie is gone, slipping into the crowd. The look of distaste must be more evident on Dan’s face than he thinks, because Phil laughs at it.

“I know,” Phil says. “But he does have a few… marginally amiable qualities.”

‘Why have you chosen to be with someone that’s marginally amiable when you’re so great,’ is what Dan wants to ask. Instead, he simply shrugs, deciding to change the subject.

“Have you decided on a drink yet? I’d better get on with making his low-cal dishwater.”

Phil laughs a little, then leans forwards, his smile deepening as he leans across the bar. “Surprise me.”

Something sparks a roman candle in Dan’s stomach, and his skin prickles with the heat it creates. He drags his eyes free of Phil’s with some difficulty, nodding, and turns to make the drinks.

He prepares Phil a ‘PopQueen’ cocktail, which is one of their most popular. It’s inspired by popcorn, along with the trio of Pop Queens that rule the gay music scene: Gaga, RiRi, and Bey. The moscato vodka base is made from Italian grapes to represent Gaga’s heritage, the spiced rum is a shoutout to Bey’s favourite drink, and Riri comes in in the form of a smoky splash of passion fruit bitter. The rest is topped up with popcorn syrup, lemonade, a sprinkle of caramel popcorn kernels, and as many sparkly cocktail sticks as Dan can fit in.

He explains the whole concoction to Phil as he presents it, a little smug because he knows this is an impressive looking cocktail. It’s probably his favourite one to make; the Viniq shimmery moscato vodka makes the drink swirl and shimmer - always exceptionally pretty.

Sure enough, Phil’s mouth drops open at the sight of it. “Okay wow,” Phil says, chuckling. “I’m gonna get drunk tonight, aren’t I?”

“If that’s your plan, this should definitely help you on your way,” Dan says, laughing too. “I wouldn’t recommend having a second if you want to remember your evening.”

Phil leans forwards to take a sip of the PopQueen, moaning around the straw, much to Dan’s dismay. He plucks one of the popcorn pieces off and eats it, eyes closed. In related news, Dan struggles not to fall to the floor. “Dan, you are an artiste,” Phil says. “Popcorn is my all time favourite food.”

“Oh, wow, that’s... lucky, I guess,” Dan stammers, a swell of pride surging up into his chest. “Glad you like it.”

“So, how much?”

“Oh, on the house.” Dan smiles, sliding the cocktail across the bar along with Charlie’s vodka tonic. “I feel bad for not letting you in on the forfeit for Bingo last time.”

The look on Phil’s face softens into something so sweet Dan can taste sugar on his tongue.

“You don’t have to do that,” Phil says softly.

“It’s fine, really,” Dan assures him, all but sliding his elbows across the bar towards him. “I insist.”

A twitch in the corner of Phil’s mouth, and then he’s leaning across the bar. It happens slowly, but Dan still manages to be caught off guard. One moment, he’s watching, bemused, as Phil inches towards him, and the next there’s a light press of paper-soft lips to his cheek. A scratch of stubble grazes over Dan’s skin as Phil leans away.

“Thanks,” Phil tells him, smiling. “You’re sweet, Dan.”

And then he’s turning away, drinks in hand, slipping into the mass of people.

For the next few hours, Dan hopes for Phil to return to the bar for another round. He waits, eagerly, for this moment to come. Instead, Charlie is the one who brings his and Phil’s glasses back over, and waves to flag down Dan’s attention.

He nods in acknowledgement, finishing up the drinks order he’s in the middle of, and sidling over to Charlie. He forces a strained smile.

“Same again?”

“Yeah,” Charlie says, digging out his phone. “And a couple of vodka shots.”

He says nothing else, eyes glued to his phone screen. Dan waits for a moment before moving off, eyes stuck to Charlie’s face. He’s the kind of gorgeous that shouldn’t exist in real life. Unblemished, tanned skin. Clean, dark stubble, lacing his perfect, razorblade jawline. His hair is a swoop of glossy mahogany; even the cut of it looks expensive.

Charlie’s eyes flick up to Dan’s, obviously questioning why he’s staring, so Dan nods, embarrassed, and hurries to make the drinks. From a superficial standpoint, it’s obvious why Phil is with Charlie. Obviously, in Dan’s eyes, Phil is the most attractive man on the planet, but that’s just because he’s Dan’s type. Even he can tell that Charlie is objectively a beautiful human being.

It’s just a shame about everything below the surface level.

Dan pours the two shots Charlie ordered. “All together it’s twenty pounds, please.”

Charlie snorts, then pockets his phone at last. “Figures you’d give Phil the discount.”

He pulls out a twenty and slaps it on the counter.

“Sorry, I can’t give you guys free drinks all night.”

Charlie just stares back at him, a faint, knowing smile caught on his dusty pink lips. One of this thick eyebrows is slightly quirked, sliding an irritation under Dan’s skin. “Listen, Danny, is it?”

“Dan,” he grits.

“Dan,” Charlie says, leaning across the bar. “A little advice, yeah? Don’t be so transparent. It just comes across as pathetic.”

He downs both the shots in quick succession, baffling Dan, who is frozen, mortified, to the spot. Before his brain can thaw enough to stammer out some witty rebuttal, Charlie has swept the drinks off the counter, and is moving away.

Cheeks burning, Dan turns around, trying to calm his boiling blood. He squeezes his fists together, counting to ten, the way he makes himself after all encounters with dickhead customers.

“Hey, sweetcheeks, can we get some drinks over here, please?”

With a deep sigh, Dan unclenches his fists, and turns to the next customer.

At around one in the morning, Dan runs to the bathroom for a minute, and on his way, he sees Charlie. He’s against the wall of the club, near the DJ booth. There’s a muscular, dark-skinned man pressing him there; their faces are close. Dan can’t stop, he’s left Tyler and Dodie to the mercy of the drunks in their worst state - things get rowdy an hour before closing - and he needs to get back there. So, instead, he simply tucks the image away in his mind, to think about later on.

That man, leant against Charlie in a less-than-innocent seeming stance, was certainly not Phil, after all. As he exits the bathroom, he notices that Charlie is gone, as is whoever was with him.

At 1:55am, the lights come on. As usual, an enormous groan chants out of the crowd of patrons on the dance floor, followed by a few pairs awkwardly stepping out of the shadows, some squinting and eye-covering, and the slow, jelly-legged walk to the coat-check area.

“I think I just saw some guy getting up off his knees in the corner,” Tyler says despondently. “Shotgun not mopping the floor tonight.”

“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Dan sighs. “On the dance floor? Really? Why can’t they suck each other off in the bathroom like normal people?”

“Oh, there were definitely people doing that in one of the stalls about an hour ago,” someone says to Dan’s right. The voice, for some reason, sends the hairs up on the back of Dan’s neck.

He turns, wondering when Matt’s voice got so low, only to find that Phil has perched himself on one of the bar stools, the dregs of his cocktail still in a glass in front of him. For a moment, Dan is too stunned at the sight of him to reply. Then, he registers that the lights are on, and cringes, knowing he likely looks frightful. Phil, of course, looks radiant as ever even under the harsh fluorescents, apart from a faint tiredness, visible in the dark circles underneath his eyes.

“You’re still here,” Dan comments. “I thought you guys had gone.”

“Charlie left,” Phil says, looking away from Dan. “Or I assume he did.”

Out of sight, Tyler catches Dan’s eye, making an obscene gesture with his hands before snickering and running off in the direction of the supply closet. Dan just glares after him, pink-cheeked, and turns back to Phil.

“Wait, he left without telling you?”

One of Phil’s shoulders moves towards his neck, then falls. “He does that.”

“Wow that’s… kind of shitty.”

As soon as the words are out, Dan regrets them. He can’t help but think of Charlie’s comment from earlier; it rings in his ears as if the guy had screamed it at him.

Don’t be so transparent. It just comes across as pathetic.

He was right, probably, though Dan had hated hearing it. He should stop being such a suck-up. It must be awkward and cringey for Phil to see Dan so obviously smitten.

Still, Phil throws him a faint smile. “It’s cool. He’s just a flaky guy. A bit of a princess. He grew up rich, so he’s always been a bit superficial. I’m trying to wring the bourgeoisie out of his blue blood.”

Dan snorts with laughter. “In my experience, you can’t filter the dickishness out of people very easily.”

There’s a silence, then. Phil regards him with a faintly curious expression.

“Maybe I’m wrong,” Dan says once the silence gets too uncomfortable. He shrugs, grabbing the rag from his back pocket and starting to wipe down the bar. “I don’t know the guy, really. I’ve just had a couple of unfortunate experiences with him.”

“Oh no,” Phil says, face falling. “What did he do this time?”

Dan laughs, bitterly. “Don’t worry about it. He’s just a little mouthy, is all.”

“Ugh, I’m sorry.”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“So, when do you get to leave this place?” Phil asks, playing with his glass. He still hasn’t drunk the remainder of his cocktail. “Or do you sleep here?”

“On weekdays, the bar closes at two, so I get out of here at around two-thirty.”

“Christ,” Phil mutters. “And I thought my job was long hours.”

A laugh bursts out of Dan’s throat, but he covers it as best he can with a cough, turning away. Busying himself with ‘dusting’ some liquor bottles, Dan tries to compose a straight face. Is Phil honestly going to try and argue that his job is difficult? When was the last time that guy ever grabbed a broom, or handled someone’s sticky change?

In a minute, Dan is going to go into the corner of the dance floor, get down on his knees, and clean up some randomer’s come. A few weeks ago he saw Phil swanning about a five-star hotel in Korea. If AmazingPhil’s worst complaint is that he had to have a few questionable outfit choices put on him, and some silvery goo in his hair, then he needs a reality check.

Nevertheless, Dan knows that he can’t say any of this. Not only would he never dream of insulting Phil Lester, but it’s pointless to try and explain the differences between classes to someone in a privileged position. They’ve usually forgotten how to understand.

“Are you close by, at least?” Phil asks, interrupting Dan’s thoughts.

Dan turns back to him. “Kemptown. It’s half an hour’s walk, more or less.”

“You walk?” Phil asks, eyebrows skyrocketing towards his quiff. “At two in the morning?”

“Five in the morning on weekends,” Dan confirms, hiding a smile at Phil’s surprise. “It’s okay, you get used to it. Besides, it’s mostly just drunk idiots chugging cans of cider and threatening to run into the sea. Not too scary.”

Despite Dan’s reassurance, the look of pity and concern on Phil’s face doesn’t subside. After a while, Dan turns from it, feeling awkward. He busies himself with clearing away the last of the empty glasses, yawning into the crook of his elbow. Tonight was rough.

“You should crash at mine,” Phil blurts.

Sure he must have misheard, Dan faces Phil slowly. “Um, what?”

“If you’re exhausted, I mean.” Phil fidgets, fingers tapping against his glass. “Like, on the nights you can’t face walking all the way home, you can totally just sleep on my sofa.”

Speechless, Dan simply stares.

“The couch is pretty comfy,” Phil continues in a ramble, not meeting Dan’s eye. “And my flat is just up the road, literally like a minute away. I’m not saying, y’know, come over every night, ‘cause obviously… that might be an issue, but you can absolutely stay round on, say, Saturday nights when you finish later. That wouldn’t be a problem.”

He’s just being nice. That’s Dan’s only explanation. Phil Lester is a sweetheart of a person, and he got so worried about the hypothetical danger involved in Dan’s walks home, that he offered something big, even though he didn’t really mean it.

Dan is a stranger to him. He needs to decline the polite offer, and let Phil off the hook he accidentally created to string himself up on.

So, Dan forces out a small chuckle, and says: “Oh, no, it’s really fine. Thanks for the offer, that’s really good of you, but I quite like the walk. It’s a nice come down after a busy night.”

Phil nods, chewing his lip. He looks unconvinced. “I’m not just saying it, though.” His voice has dropped to a lower tone. “Like tonight… you’re so tired, I can see it. Just grab some sleep at mine before you head back across town.”

As soon as Phil mentions it, the quilt of his own exhaustion flops around his shoulders, dragging Dan’s bones towards the floor. He tries to picture the stumble back to his crummy flat in Kemptown, loathing each imaginary step.

“You barely know me,” Dan says - one last attempt at refusal.

Sensing he’s won, Phil smiles very slightly, then downs the rest of his cocktail at last. “I don’t know if it’s just me, Dan, but I have this feeling that we’re going to be good friends.”

(Part 4!)

#phan #phanfic #bartender au #phanfiction

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letmyinsideslive · 6 years

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nov. 27th, 2017

Here i am

here i am doing whatever i want and look how miserable i am. if anything, i have learned that we as humans, need rules, we need guidelines, we need someone to tell us what to do and what not to do. otherwise, we will end up miserable, depressed, addicted or dead. and that shit happens all. the. time.

i care about this boy. i care about him and his feelings, and its going to hard to break things off, but i know it is what is best for both of us. he cannot give me anything i want. he cant give me dates because hes #broke, he cant give me a relationship because he is #broken, he cant give me his time because he’s #stupid and #goesoutallnight. im not about it. i am so different. i want a man with a plan. not a man looking for a plan or a man so lost he doesnt know what the fuck to do with his time, so he proceeds to stay up all night drinking hanging out with friends that do NOTHING for him.

I care about this boy.

I care about this boy a lot.

i care about him because he is sweet and kind and has a good heart and has so much potential (red flag #1, boy w potential, not actually living out his potential) and he is wasting it on insecurities and doubt. i am not about it!!!!

i try my hardest to encourage him and get him to see things differently but its hard for him. and i get it, because his life has moved backwards in so many ways. ugh. here i go... i am going to tell you about his story.

he was in love

he was dating this girl for 6 years (and no marriage, interesting right.) but they lived together and then he found out during the last year of their relationship, she was cheating on him. so they broke up blah blah blah, he slept w girls, he did shit, and then he you know.. lived that broken boy sad boy life, moved back in with his parents, got in a car accident, started doing drugs, drinking every night, whatever.

So this good boy, this good kind boy, got hurt and went wild. typical right? well with me he’s not like that. and he knows it, and i know it. but i am nobody’s saving grace. and i am not here to save you from yourself and your pitiful life. i am not here to dig you out of the hole you dug yourself. no no thank you. i have enough of my own shit going own. shit, my depression is so bad its basically my best friend. and i may not be depressed anymore, but depression lives in your mind forever. there are remnants of it just sitting, festering, growing mold and weeds. depression springs up wherever it can in my brain, even though i am not depressed anymore. so trying to change my train of thought and the way i live is a constant journey and a constant battle. but it is worth it, because i am pursuing to be a better me. i know it is for the best.

so with this boy

i am trying to encourage him

but like i said

i am not going to save him. i never will. and i don’t think i am going to be here for him during this time. i will as a friend, but nothing more, because when our feelings get involved, we get involved. and there are too many feelings as is right now. we work together.. in a restaurant... he’s 26.. im 22... im in school, he’s not...

its just a recipe for disaster.

plus we never have any time to see each other because our schedules are so opposite. and thats fine, that may make things even better... help me stay away from him for a while. but i always want to be with him. i always want him there... i want to share things with him.. i want to take him places and see him smile and make him laugh.. all this dumb shit. that shouldn't matter... and here i am, typing this up when i should be studying for my finance quiz.. do you see how i am??

i am black and white.. the way i approach my life is very black and white. my mind may be filled with colors everywhere at every turn and storms behind every door but i think a lot... and it helps me funnel everything out.

other people are not like this.

other people live by the seat of their pants.. they don’t think things through. they feel and they do. i am NOT like this. with him, i knew every thing i would do with him... but there were surprises, and i felt, and i did... and i saw how everyone else lived.. and i didn’t like it.. at all.

i like thinking things through, i like thinking about every outcome, i like being aware and being smart. i don’t like being stupid and just doing things because everyone else is doing him.

i love this kid, i love him a lot. i am not in love with him, not in the slightest. but i care about him, i care about the choices he makes, and i care about the way he lives his life. but i cannot dictate what he does and i cannot save him. nor do i want to. i cannot be in a relationship with him, i cannot get what i want from him.

it is better for us to be just friends...

but it is going to be hard..

but it is what is best.

i know it.

if any of you have been in this position please let me know. share your stories, tell me how you felt..

i am so confused and this is all so hard and weird to go through. but i feel i am learning so much it is worth all of the confusion and pain. i feel like i am living, instead of observing.

i will keep you all update on me and the boy and what happens with us. i hope all of you are well and having good days/weeks/months.

#confused #boys #love #couples #relationships #couple #ew #lmao #lol #i #am #so #lame #girl #summer #fall #winter #college

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lovewavesxx · 6 years

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Love Waves - EP 13 - White Lines

November 13, 2017

“I’ve been driving fast to feel less. White Lines to kick my addiction. -E xx.”

Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/user/ericajones10/playlist/3qGX7WeWN44Gxg8OOQLj2L

Apple Music: https://itunes.apple.com/us/playlist/love-waves-ep-13-white-lines/pl.u-EdAV8yGtGbq7Vr

YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLwEZgDEorNRRVkgZwUF7BCWFSkL1ZZGSV

Please read through everything before you listen to this playlist with the shuffle setting OFF.

I highly recommend watching some of these music videos. You can do that by clicking the underlined titles or clicking the YouTube link above.

1. 6LACK – Never Know

2. Sabrina Claudio – Confidently Lost

3. SZA – Child’s Play (feat. Chance the Rapper)

4. Wiz Khalifa – Get Your S**t

5. Chris Brown – Emotions

6. Belly – Can’t Feel a Thing

7. G-Eazy – The Plan

8. Drake – Portland (feat. Quavo & Travis Scott)

9. Clean Bandit – I Miss You (feat. Julia Michaels)

10. Aly & AJ – I Know

11. Charlie Puth – How Long

12. Tyler, The Creator – Forward (feat. Rex Orange County)

13. Snoh Aalegra – Sometimes (feat. Logic)

14. LE$ - Night Vision Goggles

15. Mac DeMarco – Ode to Viceroy

16. Jhené Aiko – Never Call Me (feat. Kurupt)

Click here for my Spotify profile

Click here for my Apple Music profile

https://ericajones10.sarahah.com/

Click here for my twitter @ericajones1010

Playlist Description:

It was either Friday or Saturday last weekend that I saw something on Instagram that really fucked me up. It fucked me up for a few days. The final realization that I was no longer needed or wanted in any form really knocked me on my ass. It took me a few days to recover. I think, I might still be slowly recovering, but the damage is done, and I finally feel, like happy, to be finished after over a year of this.

I used to drive around and listen to music when I needed to get out of my own head. Most of the time it was at night because that’s when I struggle the most to shut my head off. Plus, I really like the city lights.

Sometimes I drive very fast when I know I shouldn’t. I’m talking 115-120mph fast. Death speeds. My palms are sweating while I write this. I don’t know how to explain driving for me other than I get so focused on what I am physically concentrating on, that I forget what my mind was fixated on. I hate using the cruise control on long trips because I need that game. I need that fluctuation in the flow of traffic. Driving is a type of distraction. So, I drive fast to feel less.

Of course there are white lines all over the road. That’s a given. The double meaning here is that white lines also means drugs or cocaine. I’ve never done drugs. Ask anyone who fucking knows me. Anyways, the irony of that statement is it sounds like I’m doing something that may become addicting just to break a different addiction. That’s not how things are supposed to be fixed. You are not supposed to break an addiction with another addiction. That would almost defeat the purpose of curing or bettering yourself because that behavior is still there.

I drove a lot from November 3rd to November 12th. To be more exact, I spent about 21 hour 39 minutes driving about 1,427 miles. In case you were wondering, yes I do feel dead inside and my eyes fell out of my skull on Tuesday. That’s a joke, but I do feel very fatigued for not actually doing a whole lot.

All of that driving helped a lot with the initial sting. Also, cuddling with my brother’s dog Zeus helped a lot too. The playlist this week stems from music I listened to a lot while bee boppin’ around on I-70. I only hope the lack of mobility driving around this week doesn’t backfire or let in something I don’t want to feel or think about. I’m crazy, just incase you haven’t noticed yet. :)

I’m so over feeling like just because I care about you and love you, that I have to put myself on a fucking rollercoaster to get only a slight return on my investment. I woke up this morning and realized there is a serious difference between loving someone and feeling secure and at peace than loving someone and choosing to put up with their inconsistency and for lack of a better word, bullshit. In my opinion there is a very clear distinction between staying with someone and working things out to grow for the better, and staying with someone who is not actively putting in effort to make their life or your life better and positive. This is only just now clicking in my brain. Maybe not so much clicking, because of course those statements make sense, but I suppose I am just now reaching that point of letting go for real this time. I don’t even know what I would say to you anymore, so I won’t.

I used to think even though we were dysfunctional, we at least cared, but I’ve come the realization that if we actually cared in the slightest, then we wouldn’t do shit that hurts the other, and then continue to do that, whether it’s intentional or not. In my case, it’s the fading, coming back, rinse, and repeat. If I’ve told you that bugs me and we continue to do it, then bye. I’m over it. Like, I mean really over it this time. I sound like a bratty sixteen-year-old. SOS.

The couples I look up to, the couples I admire for their relationship, the couples I hope to be more like one day, do not put each other through so many dumb things. They never have to guess if the other person is thinking of them. They never have to put up with the other person being senseless. They never have to guess if the other person is fighting for them. They never have to guess if the other person is really thinking of their best interest.

I don’t think great levels of uncertainty or complication exists in the type of relationships I aspire to be a part of. I have put up with that shit because I felt I had to. I felt I was weak and everything I had done would be dismissed if I left—if I stopped caring. I now think that’s the opposite. I don’t have to stop caring, but I have to stop giving energy and time to something that is no longer beneficial to my mental health and growth as an individual.

Be courteous to people. Be kind. Show love. I had a conversation while I was driving back from the 6LACK concert. The next few sentences are a gist of what that entailed. It helped me a lot too. I need to take my own advice more often. Know when to back away when the vibe feels off. I’m still learning to trust this feeling. It takes two people to work on any form of relationship, but if there’s only one willing to fight for success as a couple, then I think the relationship has already run its course. If something feels unnatural and forced, then it probably is. Long term, or even short term, nobody likes feeling uncomfortable in a relationship. Trust the energy you are receiving. Energy doesn’t lie.

Also, while you may be tripping over keeping something alive that is already dead, you may be missing out on the potential of something much greater.

Song Descriptions:

My best friend Kayla and I saw 6LACK and Sabrina Claudio in concert on Thursday (11-09). I’ve been a fan of his since way before his album was released last year so it was great to finally see him live. I first found Sabrina when she was on YouTube, so it was cool to see her too. My favorite lyrics from Never Know are: I know a lot of people but I don’t fuck with a lot…If I was waiting on you to tell me then I would never know.”

Click here to read the official lyrics for Never Know by 6LACK

SZA is my qveen, and Chance is just the cherry on top of Child’s Play.

Wiz released a new album that I actually really like, but while on the road I started re-listening to his older projects and Get Your S**t really stuck with me. It’s the end of an era and the beginning of a new one with his new girl. Instead of me typing all of my favorite lyrics just read them all.

Click here to read the official lyrics for Get Your S**t by Wiz Khalifa

OHHHKKKKKAAAAYYYY, Chris Brown’s new 45 track album Heartbreak on a Full Moon is ridiculously good. There are 24 songs on that thing I like. Emotions is one of those. The pre-chorus into the chorus is my favorite part, and the actual music production is something that hooked me too.

I first started listening to Belly when his Inzombia album dropped in November of 2016. This past week I’ve been listening to my Belly playlist that has all of his music in it. While I do enjoy his first few projects, and I do appreciate Mumble Rap, Inzombia still has so many of my favorite songs of his.

G IS RELEASING A DOUBLE ALBUM ON DECEMBER 15TH. The Plan bumps.

I heard Portland at the K-State football game I went to and that song brought me back to life because I am not the biggest fan of football. The music and band were on pointtttttt though.

Adam got me hooked on I Miss You and How Long. The lyrics in both songs are too wonderful and lately I’ve been paying a lot of attention to Charlie’s music production. He makes these slight changes that are so subtle, yet welcomed.

I am beyond excited for Aly and AJ’s new EP to be released. Their new sound is so on with today’s sound, but they still manage to give is a twist somehow. It’s awesome whatever they’re doing.

Tyler. I bought a ticket to see Tyler, The Creator on November 9th, and I was fully planning on attending his concert after 6LACK, but the first concert ran too long. SO, after being a Tyler fan for like 3 years I didn’t get to see him perform one of my favorite albums of 2017. I’ll live, but man that would’ve been a great moment.

The lyric that pops out to me the most in Sometimes is when Logic repeatedly says, “Use your head don’t be dumb.”

Night Vision Goggle is on an titled album The Catalina Wine Mixer by LE$. That song and and the song Ode to Viceroy were sent to me during the week and they both fit the flow so I decided they deserved placement. Mac’s lyrics definitely fit the theme of dysfunction. :)

My favorite lyric from Never Call Me is during Kurupt’s outro. He says, “..you are the one, everyone else is 2’s and 3’s. You’re the one.”

Click here to read the offical lyrics for Never Call Me by Jhéne Aiko feat. Kurupt

I was worried this playlist wasn’t going to end up sounding great, but to be very honest this is one of my favorite playlists now.

Love, -E xx.

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lomlwintersoldier · 7 years

Text

Let Me In {8}

Sequel to The Sun and The Stars

Word count: 3196

Warnings: Be prepared xx

According to Natasha, you weren’t allowed to move anymore, much to your dismay; your fighting and straining caused enough damage to your already injured body and even the slightest movement would most likely tear open your unhealed wounds. Natasha, not wanting to leave you alone was came to you every fifteen minutes, she says to check on your health but you have a feeling she wants to talk to you about something.

“He’s doing the best he can, you know.” She says after what feels like hours of silence. You hadn’t able to focus on anything but your daughter and where she might be. Your worry hadn’t really left room to think of anything else. “What?” You ask, confused as to where she was going with this.

“Steve.” She replies tentatively. “He cares about you, Y/N. That’s why he came back for you.” “He shouldn’t have.” You don’t want to hear about anything to do with Steve. You’re still angry at him for endangering your daughter and you don’t see yourself forgiving him any time soon. Then again, right now your mind is clouded by your anger.

“Y/N, give him an inch. He’s gone to save her.” Natasha chides as she redresses your wounds. “Because of something he did. It was his fault in the first place.” You retort, hissing in pain when she tugs harder on the bandage than needed.

“He wants to make it right, obviously.” “Unless my baby is brought back to me in one piece, he hasn’t made it right.” You start to chew on your finger as you’re immersed in thoughts of how afraid she must be, all alone. “When are you going to admit you’re in love with him?” Natasha asks sharply. You’re so taken by surprise all you can do is gape at her incredulously and scoff.

“I am not in love with him.” You mutter, turning away from her.

“Yes you are.” She replies. “And he’s in love with you.” “No, I’m not, and no, he isn’t.” You reply dangerously, your tone daring her to keep on the subject and see where it goes for her. Natasha seems to sense the danger in your tone but you aren’t exactly in a position to be making threats, considering how weak you are. She seems to know that because she continues.

“What is this about?” She asks, furrowing her brow and crossing her arms as you shift away from her. “Nothing.” You retort. “I just don’t have feelings for Steve.” Her green eyes look you up and down for a moment before her gaze softens and pity crosses her face. “Is it Bucky?” She asks softly. Your jaw sets in a hard line and your eyes flutter as tears fill your eyes. You look down at your hands, reminded of how you’d hold Bucky’s, how they were calloused and strong and warm. You clench your hands before you look back up into Natasha’s pitying eyes. “Isn’t it always?” You murmur bitterly. Natasha sits on your bed, taking your hand to do her best to comfort you.

“You’re allowed to be happy, Y/N.” She whispers. “Bucky would want you to be happy.” “No, Natasha, I can’t actually.” You reply as your lips quivers, your emotions threatening to spill over. “I don’t deserve to be happy.” “Why do you think that?” She asks. “Because it’s my fault he’s dead, alright?” You snap suddenly. Your voice cracks with emotion but you keep going, because you need to say the words you’ve never said before. “He came to that HYDRA base to save me. He died to save me. I was so caught up in my quest for revenge and he’s the person that paid the price. I don’t deserve anything because of that.”

Your lips quivers as you struggle to hold back your emotions but you can’t let yourself cry. “Oh, Y/N.” Nat says sadly as she rubs your arm. “You can’t blame yourself-” “But I do.” You cut her off. Tears drip down your cheek; you’ve never spoken openly about how you truly felt, how much you truly hated yourself because deep down, you know that if you’d never been in Bucky’s life, he would be alive right now. If you hadn’t been so caught up in your own hatred, the best damn thing that ever happened to you would still be wrapping his arms around you, pressing kisses to your lips. He would be bouncing Layla on his knee and she would have a father that loved her and was there for her. “Bucky died because of my need for vengeance, because I couldn’t let my hatred go and be happy with what I had in front of me.” You say, your heart cracking because saying it aloud is so much more different and solidifying than thinking all of this to yourself. “But you don’t need to condemn yourself to a life of loneliness because of him, Y/N. It’s time to let him go. This…this isn’t healthy.” “Don’t you get it? I fucking can’t, Nat. Steve….yes I care about him but I could never admit it to him. He was Bucky’s best friend.” “But Steve has been here for you.” She says earnestly. “He’s cared for you and Layla and he’s been in love with you for a long time.” You sigh and run your fingers through your hair tiredly. “I can’t, Nat. I just can’t open up my heart anymore. I did that with Bucky and he got hurt.” “But you love Steve.” “I don’t.” You mutter but you’re lying. You are undyingly, irrevocably in love with Steve. But you’ll never admit it. How could you? How could you love the moon in the same way you loved the sun? How could you love anyone the same way you loved Bucky? What you’d had with Bucky could never be replicated with anyone else because he’d been the man who’d made you feel human again. He gave you safety, security, a home. Love. How could you love anyone else without betraying the man who gave you everything?

Three days passed with no word from Steve and Tony and your anger at Steve had faded to nothing but worry for both him and Layla. You wandered through the halls of the compound, remembering how you’d wandered them the same way two years ago, although times were very different then. It was strange to be back here without Bucky.

You’d passed Bucky’s room multiple times but you hadn’t dared to open the door yet. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at his things since being back here had already opened up wounds and memories you never intended to open up.

You’d already dared to go to the roof but that hadn’t ended well. You’d had a panic attack up there, surrounded by the city but entirely alone, unlike the times you’d spent here two years before.

You’d had to yell for Nat where she found you curled up on the floor, shaking and breathing hard. She’d had to drag you back downstairs and into bed. You ended up sleeping for the rest of the day, the stress and fear becoming too much for you to handle, as well as the powerlessness you felt because you couldn’t help them bring your baby back.

Finally, on the fourth day, as you wandered the through the compound familiarizing yourself with the area again, you found yourself passing Bucky’s room and you paused, glancing at the closed, wooden door. You take a shaky breath as you press a hand against the knob, holding it there for a few seconds. Shit, you think. But before you can change your mind, you turn the knob and slowly press open the door. Instantly, you know it’s a bad idea. His scent, stronger than you’ve smelled him since he died, immediately hits you like a wall, so warm and familiar, and you feel instantly overwhelmed. You keep going though, unable to stop now and your heart stops when you see his bed, still unmade from the day you last slept in it.

“Oh god.” You choke out as you approach the bed. When Natasha said no one came in here since he died, she really meant no one. You sit down on the edge of the bed, your heart pounding as you stare around the room. You see the photographs of the people he loved resting on the dresser.

You get up and walk slowly to the dresser, picking up the first picture. It’s one of him and Steve, pre-war; they’re both smiling widely at the camera with Bucky’s arm slung over Steve’s skinny frame.

You always loved him in his military uniform but your eyes are drawn to Steve now as well. You’ve never seen Steve in his pre-serum self and you find yourself strangely attracted to it because you know that that good man has been in there since the beginning. You see it in his wide grin, his happy smile. It’s just that now his personality matches his outer figure.

You set that picture down and pick up another, this one being of you and Bucky.

That smile, you think as you stare at the picture.

The two of you hadn’t taken many photographs in your relationship but this was your favorite of the few ones you had. His arms were wrapped around your front with his chest pressed against your back. His face was pressed against your cheek, laughing into your hair. He’d been trying to be cute by pressing a kiss to your cheek for the picture but you kept teasing him, saying dumb jokes that made him laugh against your skin and you’d snapped this picture as a result. You’re holding the camera at a typical selfie angle and even frozen in time, you know you’re laughing hard. You can’t help but notice how different you look in this picture too.

Your eyes are glinting with happiness and you remember how easily you used to smile around Bucky. You feel like you don’t even recognize this girl in the picture because when you look in the mirror, you see a tired, beaten down woman who’s raising her daughter alone. You also can’t help but wonder if Bucky would still love the you now. If he would still love your tired eyes and your messy hair.

Something tells you he would. But you’ll never really know.

You leave the pictures and go to his closet, opening up the doors. You smile. It’s still uniform and neatly put away, exactly the way he liked it. You pull out one of his shirts and smile, laughing slightly. It was a grey shirt, with a Captain America shield printed on the front. “Dork.” You mutter under your breath as you run your finger over the material. You put it on over your thin tank top and lay down on his bed, staring up at the ceiling you’d stared at for months when you’d lived here two years ago.

You close your eyes and fall asleep, strangely at peace among Bucky’s things.

You open your eyes and you’re still in Bucky’s room but you aren’t alone. You sit up in shock, letting out a cry of surprise because before you, at the foot of the bed, stands a person you thought you’d never see again. Bucky. “Hey, beautiful.” He murmurs as he smiles down at you again. “Bucky!” You exclaim, scrambling out of bed, desperate to get to him as you lunge toward him. At the last moment, you slip but he catches you and you almost sob at how warm and solid and just real he feels. “Oh, Bucky…” You sob into his chest and he holds, gently stroking your hair. “I’ve missed you so much.” “I’m right here, sweetheart.” He murmurs as his arms tighten around you.

“I love you.” You whisper as you stare up at his familiar blue eyes.

“I love you too, Y/N.” He smiles as he runs a hand through your hair as if he’s marveling at your beauty. “You’ve been so strong for our little girl and she’s so…beautiful.” “I’m so sorry, Bucky.” You cry as you hold on to him tightly, afraid that if you slacken your grip, you’ll lose him again.

“I don’t blame you, Y/N. I never have.” He murmurs as his hands drop to your waist, holding you there. “I would go and save you a hundred times over if it means you’re safe and well.” “But I’m not well, Bucky.” Your eyes begin to tear up again as you run your hands over his chest. “Nothing is right without you. I feel so broken and empty without you here.”

“But you’ve been strong. You’ve kept our baby safe and you still do everything you can to be a good mother to her.” He smiles. “You are still the women I fell in love with years ago.”

Your heart feels like it might burst as he speaks as you marvel at his face, the face you’ve loved for so long.

“I miss you so much.” You murmur again. “I’ve missed you too, doll. But you need to let Steve love you now.” “What?” You pull back in surprise and confusion. “You love him, Y/N.” And just like that, the guilt reemerges and you sigh, looking down at your feet.

“I’m sorry, Bucky.” “No, Y/N. I want you to be happy now. You deserve that.” He whispers as he pushes the hair out of your face and then cupping your cheek. “I want you to be happy, and Steve…well, he’s a punk. He doesn’t know what to do around women he’s in love with.” “Steve isn’t in love with me.” You reply quietly. “He is. And I’m saying it’s okay. Be happy with him. Give Layla the father she deserves and give yourself the love you deserve.” You lean into him again, holding onto him tightly. “I love you, Bucky.”

“I love you too, Y/N.” Then, he pulls away and reaches into his back pocket, pulling out a little box. “I never got the chance to give you this, and I want you to have it now.” You look down in confusion as he opens it, revealing a beautiful, delicate locket. It’s a heart shaped, etched with thin vines. “What is this?” “I’ve been holding on to this, waiting for you.” He smiles. “I’ve always loved you, Y/N.”

He gently turns you around by your shoulders and brushes your hair over one shoulder before delicately clasping it around your neck. He presses a light kiss to your skin when he’s done. You sigh and entwine your fingers in his hair before turning around and finally, your lips connect with his again. You kiss him fiercely, hungrily, as you tug on his hair. He wraps his arms around your waist and lifts you up, holding you tightly. You don’t want this kiss to end because you know when you let go, you’ll be hit by reality again so you keep yourself connected to him.

When you do pull away, you lift your gaze to his and touch his cheek, staring into his kind blue eyes. You caress his cheek as his hands run up and down your side gently. “Thank you.” You whisper.

Your eyes snap open. The sunlight is still streaming through the window but you feel strangely at peace which confuses you because every time you wake up from a dream like that, you feel worse. But it doesn’t hurt anymore. You sit up but there’s an unfamiliar weight around your neck and you glance down and almost sob.

Resting there on your chest is the heart shaped locket. “Oh my god.” You whisper. “It was real. It was real!” You yell.

You’d gotten your last kiss from Bucky, your goodbye. And somehow, you feel at peace now. You’ll never know how you were able to see him but something tells you he’s never left you alone. He’s always been by your side, watching over you from some other world and you realize you’ve never been alone in this world. He’s given you his last goodbye, and he’s given you what you needed to move on. Then realization hits you like a ton of bricks.

“I’m in love with Steve.” You murmur. “I have to tell him.”

You scramble from the bed and go to find Nat, who’s sitting in the living room, curled on the couch. “Hey.” She says when she glances up at you. “Why do you look like that?” “Like what?” “Happy.” She mutters. You roll your eyes but ignore her comment. “Have you heard anything from Steve and Tony?” “Nothing.”

“Let me know when you do.” It turns out you don’t need to wait long for that moment to arrive. An hour later, she comes into your hospital room and tells you Tony called her. He was on his way back and would be here in a few minutes.

You and Natasha sprint to the flight deck, waiting anxiously for the quinjet to make it’s appearance when finally, you see it in the distance. You feel like it’s taking ages to get here but finally, it lands and the door opens. You take a shaky breath and step forward, trying not to look too eager but then, you see Tony, and he’s holding Layla. “LAYLA!” You scream. You lose any sense of decorum you have left and sprint the short way over to Tony, scooping your baby out of his arms. “Oh, sweetheart..” “Mama!” She yells gleefully. Her hands find your hair, tugging and pulling as she holds on you more tightly than she ever has before. “I’m right here, baby.” You whisper tearfully. “Mama’s right here.”

After you’ve calmed her down you look behind Tony, waiting for Steve to walk down the steps off the jet but he’s not coming. “Where’s Steve?” You ask with a wide smile on your face.

And then you notice the stricken expression on his face. “Tony?”

“He was right behind me.” He mutters in a daze. “He was right behind me.” “Tony, where is Steve?” Natasha asks worriedly, stepping forward.

“He was right behind me.” Tony repeats with the same dazed expression. His words are cold, haunted and his eyes are empty. “Tell us what happened, Tony.” Natasha takes his arm. “I had the baby and…and Steve yelled for me to go. To take her back to you.” Tony’s haunted eyes find you. “He was right behind me.” “What are you saying?” You ask, your voice cracking as you say the words. “He…he’s gone. He’s dead.” Tony mutters as he looks down, looking like the most broken man you’ve ever seen. You feel like you’ve been punched in the chest because suddenly, there’s an aching pain in where your heart is, and you can’t breathe. You let out a shaky breath before you swallow and turn on your heel as your heart shatters. For the second time.

Because all you can think of are Tony’s words, cold and haunting.

He was right behind me.

Next part: Part 9

Let Me In Masterlist

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