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peterparkerunfiltered · 2 years

Text

Dear MJ

Peter Parker continues heading into the coffee shop that MJ works at, if for nothing more than to reflect in letters. Dear MJ Part I.

Peter checked his watch, just as he had done two minutes prior. 4:55 P.M. Five minutes until MJ’s shift began. As he walked down the snowy New York City sidewalk, he felt the pain in his ankle from last night flare up, a result of a thwarted robbery on 5th Street. Or was it the arms deal near 7th right after? These days, it was hard to keep up.

He checked his watch again. 4:57.

His notepad was tucked in-between his arm and his favorite winter coat, the one he had picked out at the local thrift store because it had reminded him so much of Ben’s.

4:59.

He saw his own reflection staring back at him in the glass window, peeking inside to see if she was there.

5:00.

He saw MJ’s familiar face walk behind the counter with a towel and notepad of her own in hand, cleaning up a mess that the blonde girl she had just replaced hadn’t bothered to. Her curly hair was tied into a ponytail that fell down her back, and she wore those familiar black Converses that she somehow always found a way to match with every outfit. She used to tell him about how ridiculous the mint-colored uniform she had to wear was, and he would always laugh and reassure her how good she made it look. Every time he saw her was like the first time falling in love all over again, and the butterflies were already in his stomach. He waited a moment for his smile to subside before pushing the door open, the bell that was latched to the corner jingling as a few heads turned in his direction before returning to their own world, but hers stayed on him as he walked in.

“Hey Peter Parker.”

It had been a month since he had become a regular customer, and he could tell that by the second week she had memorized his name. He flashed her a smile, this being one of the things he often over-thought about. “What’s a regular, casual, friendly smile even supposed to look like?” He would ask himself on his walks back to his apartment.

“Hey, Michelle.”

“The usual?”

He nodded to her with a small grin. “The usual.”

“You got it Peter Parker.”

He thought he saw a hint of a smile forming on the corner of her lips, but she turned around before he could be sure. He was in the same seat he had always occupied; just to the left of the counter, middle seat. It gave him the best view of the cafe, and on the chance that Ned would join MJ for a chat about anything from college to science projects, he could see them bonding the same way that the three of them would so often do on the rooftop of Midtown High. He had placed his notepad and pen down on the table in front of him, always making sure that it was covered when MJ was around.

He flipped through the pages, one for every day he had visited the cafe in the past month. Every page contained a letter, some longer and some only one single sentence. Each and every one was written out to the same person. Dear MJ, they had all read. He saw the letter on the top page staring back at him, the one he was unable to give her when he had first visited her at the cafe after the spell had been cast. Suddenly, that familiar quote rang in his head as it always did when he missed her.

“With great power comes great responsibility.”

There was a coffee stain just above the letter, which he was now staring at and reading again as he often had done. He would double-guess if he really made the right choice anytime he saw it before hearing that ringing inside of his head again. “With great power…”

12/5/24

Dear MJ,

This is gonna sound crazy, I know - but I’m here today to fulfill a promise that I made. One that I made to you. My name is Peter Parker, and that may not mean much to you now but… you know me. Before you throw this away and write me off as some stalker, just give me a chance to explain in this letter. There’s no easy way to say this, but… I love you, and you love me. We’ve been through more together than you could ever know.

There’s a lot that I remember that you don’t, but I’m willing to tell you about it every single day to remind you if I have to. I want to tell you about how we first met in elementary school, when we were partners for some science project that we totally Aced. I want to tell you about all the times I saw you sitting alone at lunch, wishing I had gone over to sit with you sooner. I want to tell you about how I planned out an entire day with you when we went on a field trip to Europe, just so I could ask you out.

What I’m about to say may sound ridiculous, but please keep reading. The truth is - I’m Spider-Man. Don’t throw this letter away please, just keep reading. I’ve been Spider-Man for a few years now, and it’s been hard trying to live two separate lives. But the best part about it? I can tell you about how you figured it out all on your own. You didn’t need me or anyone else telling you. That’s just how special you are.

I want to tell you about the kiss that we shared on the bridge in London. About how I never felt more safe than I did in that moment, even as I had cuts and bruises all over my body. I want to tell you how your hands on my cheeks made all the pain go away-

“One medium roast for Peter Parker.”

Startled, his eyes shot up from the notepad to see her staring down at him with a coffee in her hand. He felt a burning sensation behind his eyes as he stared up at her, the scar above her left eye now healed but still visible. He covered the notepad as he adjusted his face into a half-hearted smile, holding back any tears that may have been looming.“Thanks, Michelle.”

He had so desperately wanted to give her the letter in that moment.

“... comes great responsibility.”

“Don’t mention it.” As there were no new customers walking in, she headed back to the counter and began writing something in the notepad that she had brought with her. She didn’t always have it with her at work before; Peter only started realizing that she had it around over the past week or so. Returning to his own, Peter continued looking through the first letter.

… I want to tell you how your hands on my cheeks made all the pain go away.

Long story short, something crazy happened and we had to get Doctor Strange to make everyone forget that I was Spider-Man. But like I said earlier, you made me promise that I would tell you. You made me promise that I would find you. And I kept that promise.

Michelle Jones-Watson, you are the love of my life and I can’t imagine it without you. I hope the next time you see me, we can talk about this more.

Love, Peter Parker

He looked up at her again, remembering every reason he had fallen in love with her in the first place. She still had on the necklace that he had given her in Italy; she had told him that she liked that it was broken. He wanted to ask her if she knew how she got it, but he figured it would be better if he just left it alone. He hadn’t touched his coffee yet, nor would he. Knowing she made it was enough for him. He opened a fresh, clean page on his notepad, and began writing.

12/23/24

Dear MJ,

Today, I miss you extra. Like, I miss you every single day, but today hurts even more. I just want to tell you what you mean to me, what we’re supposed to be, but I can’t. Every time I try and get close, I hear it in my head.

“With great power comes great responsibility.”

I wish I could just get you to leave your shift and walk down Broadway holding hands with me. I wish I could spend the entire walk hearing you tell me about a protest you want to invite me to, or an activist campaign that you’re a part of. I wish we could stop right before we reach Times Square, and kiss as the snow falls and melts on us.

You look as beautiful as ever today, even if you’re just sitting there writing something like I am right now. I’m going to take this cup of coffee home with me, whether I drink it or not. What matters is that it reminds me of you.

I miss you. So much. For now, the coffee and hellos will have to do - but man, does it hurt.

I’ll always love you.

Love, Peter Parker

After getting one last look at her, he began to pick up his stuff to leave. As he turned around with his coffee and notepad in hand, he heard a familiar voice call out to him, his heart fluttering.

“Hey, Peter… Parker.”

He turned around to see her standing across from him behind the counter. She was holding her notepad against her chest, looking… a bit flustered?

“H-Hey Michelle, what’s up?”

“So I uh- this is gonna seem kind of weird but it’s this thing I do and I sort of used you for inspiration the past few days…” She flipped her notepad towards him, and he was staring at a drawing of himself writing in his notepad with a coffee cup by his side. “I… sort of like to draw people who seem down or-”

“In crisis?” He answered for her, almost as if something inside of him had said it for him.

She looked up at him, another hint of a smile crossing her features. “Y-yeah, it sort of gives me an art outlet. I hope you don’t mind, it’s not like I’m gonna keep a stranger’s drawing or anything.” She tore the page out of her notepad, and offered it to him, stretching her hand out towards him. He noticed that she was grabbing at her Black Dahlia necklace as she did so.

He was waiting for that familiar quote to cross his mind, to stop him from taking the drawing.

…

Silence.

“I think this is actually really awesome, I do need more art in my apartment.” He flashed her the first genuine smile since he had been visiting her that month, not worrying about it looking too fake or too enamoring. “I really appreciate this, Michelle.”

As he turned around to leave again with the drawing above his notepad, he heard her speak once more.

“MJ,” she said.

He felt his eyes get wet, turning around after making sure it wasn’t too obvious. “W-what?”

“My friends call me MJ,” she said as she finally allowed a faint smile to form on her lips.

As the memories flooded his mind, he smiled warmly at her. “I’ll see you later, MJ.”

#petermj #peter parker x mj #spideychelle #peter parker #michelle jones #peter parker x michelle jones #spider-man #mj #spider-man: no way home #mcu fanfiction

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hatterstan-shameblog · 3 years

Note

Here is the first one

Second :D

And last..he's looking at you 👀💦

ALRIGHT you know WHAT—

There’s…a lot going on here. So much so, that I have decided to create

CONTEXT

for these three images that is

COMPLETELY FAKE

because I think it’ll be a fun writing exercise. kind of a cringe move on my part, but consider: i have fun making up ridiculous lies about characters who don’t exist in real life.

(which is how I’m treating these, by the way. yes, they are pictures of kaneko nobuaki, but for my purposes, they are NOT actually him. they are distinct fictional characters who are not real.)

so if you’re feeling adventurous skip below the cut and watch me break it down:

Image 1: Accidental “Date” Makes Cousin’s Wedding Less Terrible Than Originally Expected

The year is 1999. Your cousin (who you are not particularly close to) is getting married…on a cruise ship. Your mother insists you attend. You insist upon spending 90% of your time sipping margaritas on the deck and flipping through the latest issue of Marie Claire while trying desperately not to think about the fact that you are surrounded by nothing but open ocean.

One of the (very drunk) bridesmaids tries to toss you a beach ball because you have been, and I quote: like, a total bummer this whole time. She misses. It hits the person next to you in the face. Great. Awesome. You think: well now who’s being, like, a total bummer?

Luckily the person who got hit in the face laughs the entire thing off. He says your friends seem…’lively.’ You say that’s pretty rich coming from a guy who looks like a rejected member of ‘The Clash.’ He insists that he left them, not the other way around.

You slip into conversation. You tell him that you’re here for a wedding. He offers his condolences. You accept them. He says he actually likes weddings—something about two people making a life-changing commitment speaks to him on a soul-level. That and the open bar, of course.

You suggest he crash the wedding. He says he’s not sure if he can make it—there’s a shuffleboard tournament that evening that he would just hate to miss, plus the latest issue of Soap Opera Digest is waiting on his bedside table just begging to be opened. You say that’s perfectly understandable, but, if he suddenly finds himself caught up on the latest All My Children gossip, he can meet you back here at four.

Surprise, surprise: he shows up. He’s wearing the same shirt he was before, but buttoned up this time—and with one of the most hideous neckties you’ve ever seen, which he apparently borrowed from the kind old man next door. Instead of complimenting his attire (because it is truly un-compliment-able), you take the opportunity to mention that this is a Titanic-themed wedding. He says that having a Titanic-themed wedding on a cruise ship is “kind of fucked up” and you solemnly agree.

Everyone is very surprised and pleased to see that you’ve brought a date—even the bride, who tells you that you’re “just like Jack and Rose.” You agree, much to her delight…until you say that, if the ship goes down, you also won’t share the door and let him freeze to death in the icy water. He insists he’d be the guy who jumps off the ship and hits his leg on the propellor—that’s his favorite part of the whole movie, and it’d be an honor to re-enact the scene.

The wedding is…a wedding. Vows, toasts, pictures—and you’re sipping champagne through the entire thing. The two of you spend the evening getting completely wasted and telling everyone a different story about just who your ‘mystery date’ is. Highlights include: the captain’s unruly son whose been tasked with following in his father’s sea-faring footsteps; professional cave-diver who discovered a new species of slug and is spending his reward money on a nice vacation; head of marketing who gives all those clever names to the nail polishes at OPI; the guy who folds everyone’s towels into animal shapes.

You end up where you started: on neighboring lounge chairs, with a margarita, and talking to this stranger who has recently crossed into “acquaintance” territory. You chat about how “My Heart Will Go On” is actually a good song, and he promises not to tell anyone that you said that. He also says that this is the best Titanic-themed cruise ship wedding he’s ever been to, and he can’t wait until somebody decides to do Jaws.

Eventually, you both stagger back to your rooms with promises of seeing each other at breakfast. Unfortunately, you have the worst hangover of your life the next morning and even the thought of ‘breakfast’ makes you want to roll over and die, so you don’t manage to stumble out of bed until it’s time to disembark.

You see him at port, and you each offer each other a little wave before going your separate ways. Six weeks later, you get a Polaroid of the two of you together, sitting at the bar and laughing at something that must have been very, very hilarious.

You don’t remember most of what happened that night, but you remember it was not as terrible as it could have been.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Image 2: Extremely Weird Guy On The Street Has You Questioning Your Sanity

It’s 6:00 in the morning—a truly terrible time to be awake, but a necessary evil. Your flight leaves at 10, and since it’s an international thing, you want to make sure you get there in plenty of time to get to your gate (and maybe sample all the fancy perfumes you can’t afford at one of those high-end stores that are always in airports.)

The streets are mostly empty, save for a few random pedestrians and a handful of passed-out salarymen snoozing on the curb. The sky a rainy gray-blue as the sun tries to rise behind the springtime cloud cover—it’s no doubt going to be another dismal day, as is common during this time of year. Hopefully there’s not too much turbulence on your flight…

You stop at a crosswalk, waiting for the little walking man signal to show up on the light across the way. You’re soon joined by another person—a man in a soft-looking jacket who supplies you with a small “good morning” bob of his head. You respond in kind, throwing in a small smile for good measure. It’s nice that he too understands that it’s entirely too early to be having any kind of conversation, even if it is just a simple verbal greeting between strangers on a street corner.

The light changes, and you both begin your trek across the street. Your fellow walker is faster than you—or, more likely, has longer legs and, ergo, a longer stride than your own—and is nearly halfway across by the time you get your wheeled suitcase over the curb. He seems decent enough. You hope he’s going somewhere nice.

It’s then that you make the mistake of looking up. It would have been much better if you had just continued watching the white painted lines on the road and thinking about how it reminds you of piano keys—and how you hated the six months of piano lessons your parents forced you to take in the first grade.

But no. You noticed someone walking towards you, and you just had to look up.

The first thing you notice is a rainbow tie-dye shirt. The second thing you notice is that the rainbow tie-dye shirt is on a very cheerful looking gentleman, who seemed to be bobbing his head in time with a song only he could hear.

The third thing you notice—and this one’s the real kicker—is the large blue-and-green reptile sitting on his shoulder. It’s bulging eyes are hooded in pleasure as it’s red-pink tongue darts out to eat the green something—maybe a grape or a small piece of melon?—from the rainbow tie-dye man’s hand. It is nothing short of a spectacle, honestly, and you feel a piece of your sanity evaporate.

The rainbow tie-dye man continues on, uncaring of your confused stare at his strange pet. You even turn around to make sure that you weren’t somehow hallucinating, and sure enough, there is definitely some kind of creature draped over this stranger’s shoulder. It’s tail even sways in time with the man’s steps, which is both cute and confusing.

Because it would not do to stand in the middle of the street all day, considering the existence of rainbow tie-dye man and his exotic pet, you do the only thing you can do: turn back around and continue on your journey. You need a coffee. Maybe with an extra shot of espresso, after witnessing whatever the hell that was. Something to set you right again.

“Was that…?”

The other man—the soft-coat long-stride one—is speaking low enough as to not draw attention, but loud enough for you to hear as you make your way towards the sidewalk. His expression reads ‘concerned, but trying not to show it’ which you suppose is the polite and mature way of handling the situation.

“…an iguana? Yeah,” you answer him, “I saw it too.”

The man’s brow furrows. His mouth puckers into a small frown as he considers…well, something.

“…Okay, then,” he concludes, shrugging his shoulders, “Hell of a way to start the day.”

“Yeah.”

And you both continue on your way. He turns left at the next intersection, you turn right—but even though your paths may now be different, you will forever share an unbreakable bond over the fantastical sight you’ve witnessed today.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Image 3: Near Death Experience At Open Mic Night

You are not a poet.

Well, not professionally, anyways. You’ve been known to dabble in the written word, often scribbling little snippets of rhyme in a notebook over your lunch break or tapping a verse or two into the notes app on your phone. It a kind of outlet, you suppose—a way to keep the creative energy that bubbles inside of you from boiling over.

It’s also worth mentioning that you are not a confident public speaker. Not since that unfortunate incident in the third grade where you forgot the single line you had in the school play and ran off stage, tears streaming down your face and—actually, no, you’re not going to think about that right now. Or ever again, hopefully.

So when your (tipsy) coworkers decide that it’s a good idea to push you onto the stage at the local dive bar’s open mic night—while shouting at you to “read the one about the night-blooming jasmine”—you freeze up. There are at least seven strangers staring at you, expectation rising with every passing second of your inaction. It’s nerve-wracking in the way that the third-grade incident was not, and you gulp against the nervousness that rises in your throat.

Shaking hands scroll frantically through your phone, looking for the requested poem—and after a few agonizing moments, you manage to find it. Your voice cracks rather embarrassingly as you begin to read, trying your damndest to get the words out right so you can slink back to the bar and drown the rest of the night in Chardonnay.

Everything is going well—or, at least, as well as can be expected—until you notice that the room is suddenly feeling very hot. That’s the last coherent thought you have before the room goes dark and everything falls silent.

Next thing you know, you’re staring at the ceiling. A man who you do not know is leaning over you, and his mouth is moving—oh, he’s probably trying to say something to you, but it’s very difficult to tell what he’s saying over the throbbing pain in the back of your head.

You ask him if you’re dead. It’s a possibility after all, that you’ve somehow died and landed yourself in some kind of special public-speaking hell. That’s what this feels like, anyways.

The man says no, you are not dead. You say ‘dammit’ in response. He tries to hold back laughter, offering to help you up by extending his hand. You take it and—ouch, ugh, ew, going from laying to standing is not a fun experience.

You thank him (albeit awkwardly) for helping you up, and he insists that ‘it’s cool.’ Passing out in front of an audience is not even remotely cool, but you nod and thank him again, anyways.

Before you’re able to converse with the helpful stranger any further, your coworkers have come to collect you. You are whisked away by someone from accounting, who offers to escort you home—an offer you gladly accept, very excited to leave the site of your failure behind you.

Safe to say, you never go back to that particular bar again.

#writings and such #thought you’d get me with a thirst post WELL I JUST THREW DOWN AN UNO REVERSE CARD BAYBEEEEE #‘he’s looking at you’ YOU TRYNA MAKE ME BLUSH CUZ ITS WORKIN OKAY???#fun fact: the second one was inspired by MULTIPLE real-life events #can’t wait to wake up tomorrow morning and regret this <3

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survey--s · 2 years

Text

125.

So how are you today? Really good, thanks for asking!

Do you like to eat eggs? I don’t mind poached eggs, but generally not. It’s a texture thing for me.

When was the last time you had a cup of tea? Hmm. I think it was at work, so mid-March at the latest.

Do you have a tapestry in your bedroom? No.

Have you ever been to London? Yeah, loads of times. I quite like London but only for a long weekend, I don’t think I could live somewhere so loud and busy.

Do you enjoy going to the library? I used to love the library but our local one is only open a couple of hours a day and I’m always working. I find it really odd that it’s never open on weekends or after school.

If you went to NYC (or if you’ve been), what are your favorite things to do there? I’ve never been to NYC but I’d like to see Central Park, Brooklyn, Manhattan and the Bronx, I think. Oh, and Times Square.

Who’s the most recent person on your Facebook feed? Nick.

When (if ever) was the last time you saw that person? When I left my last job, so just over two years ago now. Oh, I lie, I saw him in town at Christmas but I didn’t speak to him as he was working.

Do you know anyone who has a pet bunny? Yeah, I pet-sit for a rabbit sometimes. She’s very cute but not into people, lol. it took about 20 visits for her to come say hello to me, ha.

Can you play the violin? Nope.

What’s the last movie you watched? Pccahontas.

Did you enjoy this movie? I love it, ha. I’m a real sucker for 90′s Disney films.

What store or website would you most like a gift card for? Fat Face or The Little Wax Box Co.

What’s something you’re looking forward to? Nothing specific right now. I’m just enjoying a free weekend as I’m house-sitting and dog-walking the next two weekends, lol.

Name your top 3 favorite musical instruments. Piano, acoustic guitar and saxophone.

What was the last book(s) you bought at a bookstore? A book called Alice by Christina Henry. I wasn’t even looking for it but I’m really glad I bought it as it was such a good read.

Does the song you’re listening to/last heard evoke any emotion for you? I’m watching some show about Airport Security, lol.

Do you use Pinterest? No. I really don’t get Pinterest.

Are you wearing earrings? Yes - three pairs of studs and a hoop.

Do you know any sign language? No.

Have you ever seen the musical Ragtime? Nope. I’ve never even heard of it before.

Do you have a favorite poem? The Highwayman by Alfred Noyes.

Do you like Indian food? I love the idea of it but spicy food makes me sick, unfortunately. I do like kormas or things like that, though.

Describe your favorite scarf, if you have one. It’s thick, white and fluffy and so, so warm.

Do you have a dog? Yeah, a beagle named Archie.

Have you ever read the Little House on the Prairie series? No. I feel like I should read it as I loved Anne of Green Gables.

Do you have any homework? No, I haven’t been in school for over a decade now.

Have you ever gone on a service trip to an underprivileged country? No. I find those things so patronising.

Do you need to do laundry? No, there are towels in the drier now but that’s it for the weekend.

Do you enjoy going out for breakfast? I do! But we’ve not been out for a meal for a while now.

Have you ever performed in front of more than 100 people? Yes, in school plays and concerts.

Do you like muffins? I do! And I might order some on the food shop tomorrow, lol.

When was the last time you went to church? About fifteen or sixteen years ago.

Have you ever heard the singer Audra McDonald? No.

What’s a quote you think is really powerful? Nothing specific is coming to mind right now, in all honesty.

Should you be doing something else right now? No.

#survey #surveys #questions

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greenninjagal-blog · 4 years

Text

Happy Little Stars

Hello Lovelies! I’m back with more of the Alien au! If you missed the previous parts you can find them [Here] on Ao3!

Previous: [Stars Die (But We Don’t)]

Start: [The Space Between Us]

Summary: Virgil is Happy. Logan helps him realize how much. (ft: Anxceit, gays in space, and good feelings)

Words: 6885

Quick Taglist:@alias290 @chelsvans @coyboi300 @dante-reblogs @dwbh888 @glitchybina @faithfulcat111 @felicianoromano @harrypotternerdprincess @holliberries @jemthebookworm @killerfangirl3 @mrbubbajones @musical-nerd18 @nonasficcollection @stricken-with-clairvoyancy @the-sunshine-dims @themagicheartmailman @themultishipperchild @thenaiads @treasureofpriam @vianadraws @welovelogansanders

Read on Ao3 || General Writing Masterlist

Virgil stretched out his shoulders as he walked into the kitchen area. It was somewhere between too-late and why-the-fuck-was-he-awake-this-early o’clock and his body was bemoaning it. But Space revolutions and rotations had long since thrown off his circadian rhythm. He wasn’t sure how much he was sleeping compared to how much he’d been sleeping on Earth: he hadn’t exactly been abducted with a watch and different planets regulated time by different intervals.

Logically Virgil knew that one rotation of a planet was one day, and one revolution was a year, but aliens used the word “Qisannu” to describe minutes, but their minutes were something like 84 seconds and their hours (“Phisannu”) were about 42 quisannu each and Virgil had decided that he was perfectly happy not knowing what time it was, ever. Logan had been very interested in how humans told time but had gotten distracted by the finger multiplication Virgil had been doing while trying to explain it all and they had never gotten back on track.

The point was that Virgil had slept and that even in the expanse of Space, the Final Frontier(™) he was still not a morning person. Janus and Logan were already up though: the former sipping tea from Patton’s secret stash and the latter reading off one of the Interspace Nook-like devices that usually brought news of the important type to them while sitting at the table quietly.

Virgil gave a blurry, still sleepy nod in the direction of the living beings and shuffled over to the cabinet where food was stored. He poked around for a moment before picking out some weird substance that Roman had specifically told him not to eat. It had reminded him of Jello, but the flavor was more towards cough syrups than fruit. They had picked it up off a distant planet and Roman had nearly paid thrice the amount of griot for it. Virgil didn't see what the hype was, but it was substance and he was hungry and really Roman had practically invited him to take it when he said don’t even look at it, you Deathworlder!

“I was thinking,” Janus started. “Rozario.”

“Rozario?” Virgil echoed.

“Spanish origins to remind us of Spanish class where you repeated embarrassed yourself every single day--”

“Seriously,” Virgil said, “Can’t you wait until I wake up to insult me?”

“--And it's elegant. Listen to it: Virgil Rozario, Janus Rozario.” He paused for emphasis as Virgil blinked at him slowly, “Really it's my favorite so far--”

"FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THINGS SCIENCE!" Logan yelled, "I CONCEDE! I GIVE UP!"

At any other moment this would be a momentous occasion. Logan, the smartest of the Tenekarie, the most feared alien on this side of the cosmos, the relentless scientist, finally admitting defeat. Virgil hadn’t thought that Logan even knew the Common words for "give up" much less how to use them in a sentence. He was passionate and determined and once he set his mind to something there was a better chance of stopping a black hole’s gravitational pull than getting him to back down.

And yet, at stupid-early o'clock on their mostly silent spaceship in the middle of completely silent Space, hearing Logan scream at the top of his lungs was not what Virgil was expecting nor was he prepared for.

"What the fuck!" The human growled from on the floor surrounded by the remains of his breakfast, whatever alien food it was. “Actual fucking Hell! Logan!”

Janus looked down at him from his delicate perch on the table, humming into his cup of tea like he hadn't also startled at the sound of Logan's exclamation and poured half his drink on the ground. "Oh dear," he said innocently, intentionally, asshole-ishly. "That's quite a mess there, Virgil. You should really be more careful."

Virgil flipped him the bird, which of course only made him laugh. He ignored it in favor of turning back toward Logan. The alien was dancing with lights all singing so brightly it was near hard to look at and with so many colors Virgil's empty stomach attempted to rebel.

"What the Hell, man?” Virgil squinted and raised a hand to blot out the sight, while his heart was fluttering like a butterfly over a fucking venus fly trap. “What's wrong?"

Logan's lights briefly concluded, shutting off like he was taking a deep breath and then flickering back on at a less intense, less violent pace. His lower arms crossed themselves while his upper arms kneaded the table.

"You!" Logan snarled, "You two are my problem!"

Virgil's shoulders tensed and his back straightened and every single thought of his when careening out the goddamn airlock in the void. Because, yeah, this was it! This was the start to every single nightmare Virgil had ever had since joining the crew: Logan the only one who had wanted him around, the one who brought him here and gave him a place to stay, the one was now fed up with him for something he didn't realize he was doing wrong and now going to kick him off into space or sell him back to the Welsors or something equally terrible that Virgil can't even imagine because he's not entirely space savvy yet. And the worst part would be that Virgil didn't even know what he was doing wrong! And he dragged Janus into it by default which meant Janus was getting the same punishment and then Janus would hate him for getting them into the same mess all over again and Virgil can withstand a lot but the mere idea of Janus sneering at him and pushing him away had hislungs shrinking right there in his chest, shriveling up as a way to make it easy for him to just die--

Janus slipped off the table in a fluid motion and landed softly next to Virgil. He placed a hand on Virgil's shoulder blade but used the other to help clean up some of his dropped breakfast and the slipped tea with a towel he materialized out of who knows where. "Breathe," Janus's words ghosted into Virgil's brain without him actually having to say them. "Breathe and relax."

Logan let out a frustrated screech again, "I do not understand! You both are confusing me!" His lights flicked again harshly around his neck notches, "Please just tell me: what is the human greeting custom?"

"The what now?" Virgil asked all eloquently out of breath and strained and near dying. His heartbeat was thumping in his throat, like a frog and no amount of breathing could get the foggy panic to subside.

Logan, though, appeared to be oblivious to his plight. He pulled out a pocket notebook, and flipped through it angrily. "Roman reported that when you two saw each other you had- and I quote-- "open mouth kissed in the grossest display of love I have ever seen, you should have been there Lo it was terrifying seeing Virgil looking so emotional" end quote. However!! I have been documenting your interactions on the ship and out of seventeen times that you two have greeted each other, only six times have those been with kissing and only twice has it been with tongue--"

"OKAY!" Virgil screeched, cutting him off. “That’s enough Science for today and probably tomorrow, too!”

Logan plowed on like he hadn’t even spoken, “--On the days that you two do not greet each other with a kiss, your interactions range from a nod, to actually speaking words, to brushing a hand over one or the other or to becoming hostile-- although Patton has informed me that those last interactions may be considered as “play fighting” or “flirting”. As you can see there is a large amount of inconsistency--”

“Oh my god, Logan,” Virgil begged, “How long have you been watching us?”

“Eighteen days, six phisannu, and eleven qisannu.” Logan recited.

“Jesus…” Virgil dug his chin into his chest and forced himself to exhale long and slow. Eighteen days? That was just about when Janus and Remus had first come aboard. Now that he was thinking about it….yeah Logan had been watching them closer than normal. Virgil had been so distracted by Janus being alive and breathing and not dead, that he had written off most everything else.

Speaking of, he peaked up at Janus, at Janus’s stupid smirk and his shaking shoulders and realized, the jerk was laughing.

“You knew about this?” Virgil accused, launching a hand in the distressed Logan’s direction.

Janus held up a jiggly cube of alien food and ever so sweetly winked at him. “I had my suspicions. He is hardly subtle when it comes to taking notes.”

“And you let him?!”

“Who am I to get in the middle of a scientist’s project?”

Logan gave another frustrated screech and tossed his upper arms into the air. “So you’ve been intentionally messing with my observations instead? You have been manipulating my data! No wonder I cannot get a significant answer!”

“You could have just asked us,” Virgil groaned. He grabbed another Jello-like cube and put it in his empty bowl. His stomach growled faintly at the smell of them, because while they tasted like cough syrup they gave off the aroma of fresh strawberries. Was it wrong to want to eat them off the floor? Surely Patton had just cleaned the kitchen and really Virgil had eaten worse back on Earth and hadn’t died. Could he die of alien germs?

Janus plucked the next Jello cube from his hand and put it in the bowl as if he knew exactly what Virgil was thinking and taking action against it like the killjoy he was.

It was hard to make out Logan’s exact expression because of the thick light blocking glasses he was wearing, but Virgil thought he could guess. Tenekarie expressions were similar enough to humans that he could see the “I’m regretting everything” look from galaxies away.

“Roman told me that it was rude to ask a human about their customs,” Logan said.

“And you listened to him?” Janus asked, not at all delicately. Logan made a series of noises in the back of his throat that sounded suspiciously like an engine dropping out of warp drive.

“Roman literally calls us Deathworlders,” Virgil pointed out.

“Roman is also more experienced in the customs of other species than I am,” Logan said, stubbornly. “I am perhaps one of the only ones of my kind to venture off world. Social niceties of other species do not make sense to me.”

“Logan, you literally taught me how to speak,” Virgil said. “All you had to do was ask. I would tell you anything.” And it wasn’t even a lie. If Logan asked him to explain the governing system from back on Earth, Virgil would begrudgingly rack his brain for all he knew about the Electoral College from eighth grade Government class.

“But you greatly dislike talking about humans!” Logan snapped his pocket notebook closed, his upper hands twisted in the air like he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do with them. “I do not know much of anything about human expressions and culture, but your mood greatly decreases when Earth is mentioned and you are caused great distress when any one of us attempt to uncover knowledge of your childhood.”

Virgil was well aware of the eyes on him: both Logan’s hidden light sensitive ones and Janus’s curious heterochromic ones. He plopped another cube in the bowl and stood up, measuring out his breaths as evenly as he could.

“I mean, I guess--” Virgil tried to play it off like his mind wasn’t furiously fighting off unwelcome memories, like he was perfectly fine and there was nothing wrong with where this conversation was going at all, period. “You could have still asked.”

Logan’s face pinched. “What sort of friend would I be if I caused you intentional distress?”

Janus didn’t say anything, just sat back on his hunches and watched Virgil with that critical gaze of his. Virgil could barely even remember the last time Janus had to analyse him for information. Was it before the Robotics Show from Hell or later when they were lying on the floor of Janus’s room for the first time so sleep deprived that they were enjoying each other's company? It was the look he used when he was picking apart words and tone and emphasis and intention, the look he used when he was weedling his way into someone’s mind and figuring out how they thought, the look he used when he was filling in gaps of information without needing to ask.

Virgil didn’t necessarily hate when Janus did it to him, but it made his body go rigid and his eyes stiffly avoid contact and connection and all the things that amateur profilists used to determine when one was lying and telling the truth.

Virgil sighed out another breath, “Alright, alright.” He left the bowl on the counter and sat down in one of the chairs at the table, opening his palms to Logan. “Ask your questions.”

Logan’s lights slowed, flooding purple and green with dashes of red in between, Northern Lights style. He tapped two of his four fingers on the table across from Virgil as if he wasn’t satisfied with Virgil suddenly opening up.

“I do not want to bring harm to your emotional status,” the alien said.

“Whatever he doesn’t want to answer, I will,” Janus offered, pulling himself up off the ground and brushing imaginary space dirt off his pants (which were actually Virgil’s, because they still hadn’t stopped somewhere to pick up supplies. Not that Virgil was complaining. Janus calves really stood out in the slim fit). Janus smiled without teeth and Virgil saw Logan doing an extensive overthinking process before finally nodding.

“Okay,” Logan said. “What is the normal way for humans to greet each other?”

“Depends,” Virgil said.

There was a beat of silence, before Janus huffed and sat himself on Virgil’s lap. “What he means, Logan, is that humans have a lot of ways to greet each other based on their relationship to one another. The closer the relationship the more personal the greetings tend to be. I might greet a new acquaintance with a handshake, but hug a close friend or ruffle the hair of a younger cousin.”

Logan scribbled something in his notebook, which Virgil knew from experience was in ancient Tenekarie language as well as in a code that only Logan knew the key of. Supposedly it helped keep all his information organized and prevented theft but they had yet to encounter someone willing to fight Logan for his information.

“These things change between humans,” Virgil added, “In some families it might be normal to kiss a relative on the cheek, and in others that can be weird or uncomfortable. Between cultures too.”

“Cultures?” Logan repeated, “How many cultures are on your planet?”

“Please don’t make me count them,” Virgil said.

Janus shuffled so he was better seated in between Virgil’s thighs. “Perhaps it's easier to explain like this: if there is something for humans to disagree over, there is a different culture for it.”

Logan stopped writing to look up at them. When neither of them corrected each other he hummed. “That sounds truly chaotic and ill designed.”

Virgil shrugged, “Its not all that bad.” He carefully carted his fingers through Janus’s hair. It was soft, a little greasy because it had been a day and a half since he showered and he smelled like the healing aloe even though the scars on his face were as healed as they were getting. Still he was warm to the touch and Virgil felt himself practically melting into him.

“Sometimes it's really cool,” Virgil said. “You meet people from an entirely different way of life and if everyone doesn’t suck, you get to learn something new.”

“Suck?” Logan echoed confusedly, but Janus warded it off with a wave of his hand and a sip of his tea.

“Many cultures,” Janus summarized, “Many ways to greet each other. Next question.”

Logan accepted the answer with all the grace of the Tenekarie. “From my observations, kissing is a very personal act. This means that you two have a very personal relationship, correct?”

“Yes,” They answered together.

Logan nodded. “So what is your relationship?”

Virgil’s fingers froze midway through their path in Janus’s hair. “Uhhh…”

Janus frowned, and looked back at Virgil. Even now their faces were less than a couple inches apart and his breath smelled pretty awful, but Virgil didn’t think he could push him away even if all life in the cosmos depended on it. It was something about his eyes-- always about his eyes. Virgil had probably made a million metaphors and similes about his eyes before and he could probably make a million more and still not manage to capture his quintessential essence of him.

It was nearly embarrassing as all hell. Middle School Virgil who righteously suffered through all English classes would be completely mortified to know that he had turned into a poetic sap who liked to make love songs out of the way that Janus’s lips taste and the rhythm of his heartbeat. All those times he had ripped up his own emo writing and now he was trying to figure out if “vivacious” rhymed with “Janus” because there was no other way to describe how his heart was acting any time the other boy fluttered his eyelashes.

Maybe words weren’t enough, maybe they would never be enough. Janus would probably know better anyway, because he knew so many different words in different languages, but Virgil would rather eject himself into space than admit all those very real, very mushy, very gushy emotions in his head.

Maybe that was the reason why Virgil was breathlessly staring into Janus’s eyes scrambling for an answer he wasn’t sure even existed.

Poor little Virgil, who never got a chance to tell Janus how he felt three years ago and now chased him down in Space and still couldn’t get the words “I’m super fucking gay for you” out unironically. It wasn’t like Janus didn’t know. Virgil knew he knew already. The words weren’t necessary between them, when they could look at each other and recognize that they’d do anything for each other.

How can he put a name to that? Virgil didn’t think there was a name.

The emotion in his chest, the burning desire in his heart, the hum in his soul that finally settled when Janus was next to him-- those weren’t things that Virgil thought had a name. It wasn’t simple to explain, not like sadness, or anger, or fear.

It was dangerous, Virgil knew. Because it was the emotion, the feeling, the urge that made him want to bend over backwards for Janus’s smile, that made him bullheaded enough to sneak over the mansion walls into the Ekans Estate and climb the trellis to the Janus’s bedroom window, that made him want to pick out Prom Tuxes and dream of a perfect world where Janus’s parents didn’t hate the mere idea of Virgil. Virgil had done stupid things for the sake of Janus’s real smile already; what was stopping him from doing more? What was stopping him from doing stupider things? Virgil would fight the whole world, dozens of worlds, thousands for the sake of Janus.

And Logan wants him to define a dedication like that in a simple relationship status?

“Oh my god,” Janus said, staring at Virgil, “You are way over thinking this.”

He rotated on Virgil’s lap and faced Logan with a look of determination that Virgil was honestly a little terrified of. “Our relationship is Fuckbuddies, okay? Fuckbuddies with emotions.”

“EXCUSE ME,” Virgil yelped, “What?!”

“Fuck.” Janus said, “Buddies.” Deliberately. Slowly. Cheekily. “Am I wrong, Virgil?”

And oh.

Virgil was right there, right next to Janus’s lips, right next to his wide eyes and soft, very kissable lips, right next to--

And then suddenly he was closer.

Kissing Janus was like setting himself on fire, but in a good way or whatever. Virgil didn’t know. In a single breath Janus managed to make him stupid, caused him lose focus of everything around him, drew him in and held him tight in his clutches until Virgil honestly forgot what his own name was. All that matter was Janus, Janus’s hands cupping Virgil's face, and Janus’s sneaky clever little tongue was darting between Virgil’s lips, searching for a gap between his teeth--

“Pardon my interruption,” Logan said. Like a beacon of light in the middle of a rainstorm, like the fire alarm in the middle of the night, like Janus’s mother knocking on the door to ask why he’s still awake when Virgil is not welcomed in her home and he’s currently lounging on the bed next to Janus.

Virgil yanked back on instinct and Janus gave him a toothy, smug grin in return. The boy in his lap patted Virgil’s cheeks, and licked his lips again because he was an asshole and Virgil was very much blushing across his entire face.

“But what exactly is a-- What did you say?” Logan tapped his pen, “A Fuckboodie?”

“A fuckbuddy,” Janus repeated the English word which he did not bother to try and convert to any sort of alien language.

“Yes,” Logan said. “That. What is that?”

Virgil was so lost in the sensation of Janus running his thumb over Virgil’s lips, of the sight of Janus looking all coy on Virgil’s lap, twisting just ever so much….he totally completely missed what Janus said next.

The next thing he knew Janus was plucking himself out of Virgil’s lap drawing his fingers across the underside of Virgil’s chin and walking away with a sway in his hips that definitely wasn’t there before and definitely impossible to look away from. He was hypnotizing all the way out the door and out of sight.

“--Virgil?” Logan said.

Virgil blinked twice. “What the fuck just happened?”

Logan adjusted his glasses, “Janus said that you would be better suited for answering what a fuckboodie was… are you okay?”

Virgil couldn’t help but laugh, “Asshole.” He shook his head slightly, but he couldn’t keep that stupid smile off his face. Absently he wondered if his cheeks should be hurting this much from smiling. When was the last time he smiled this much? Had he ever?

“Virgil, I will admit, you are starting to scare me,” Logan said. “It is very unlike you to act so…aloof and whimsical. Ever since I have known you, you have been very direct and, well, possibly paranoid. Is there perhaps a pheromone that Janus is giving off that is making you like this?”

“Pheromone?” Virgil repeated to make sure he heard that right, “Pheromone? Humans don’t give off like pheromones-- at least I don’t think they do? At least not pheromones that other humans can really pick up on. I think I read a Wikipedia article about some basic stuff that suggested early humans did but Janus can’t and doesn’t-- I’m not acting weird.”

Logan didn’t say anything and Virgil felt the weight of his own words come careening back down on him. Like a guillotine.

“Okay, maybe I’m acting a little weird,” Virgil allowed, with a sigh. He gently touched the underside of his chin where Janus had drawn his fingers. The ghost imprint of his fingertips made him shiver and maybe hold that stupid fond smile longer than he meant to.

Logan wrote something in his notebook with the fluidity that made Virgil certain he was writing down possible pheromones types.

“Janus and I are not fuckbuddies,” Virgil blurted out, if only to distract him. “We’re uh...what’s the word…” Boyfriends. Lovers. Stupid Idiots. Best Friends. Don’t they all mean the same thing between the two of them, anyway? “Partners.”

“Romantic partners?”

“Yes.” Virgil said. He picked up Janus’s abandoned tea and twisted the tea bag around his finger. “Yeah.”

Logan tracked the motion, as shown by the tilt of his head and the press of his lips together. The lights racing through his body slowed further into a contemplative tempo, something that someone could slow dance too, not that Virgil was thinking of slow dancing or anything. He was a scorned poetic, not a masochist.

The tea tasted like Jasmine although Virgil doubted any planets this far from Earth produced the plant they were used to.

“You are happy,” Logan stated. Which very much sounded like an unchangeable fact than a guess or an observation.

Virgil blinked at the sudden change of tone, but he nodded carefully. “Yeah?”

“Janus makes you happy.” Logan stated again.

“Yeah,” Virgil answered again. He couldn’t help but feel like he was taking a test suddenly, like Logan was his Spanish Teacher and he was being graded on his pronunciation in front of the entire class, like there was a lot riding on his every answer but he couldn’t figure out the trick that was going on.

Logan tapped his writing pen on his notebook, and drummed two fingers from another hand on the edge of the table, much like Virgil’s actual Spanish Teacher when she was about to fail him.

“I am causing you distress,” Logan said leaning back, “I apologize. My line of thinking was not intended to make you uncomfortable. Through my observations and with the help of your answers I am formulating conclusions--”

“That is way too much thinking for this early in the morning, Logan.” Virgil told him, shifting slightly. “Really too much--

“Were you unhappy?”

Virgil froze.

He felt his blood run cold and turn to ice crystals in his veins, cutting off all feeling to his extremities. He felt the warmth disappear from his cheeks, felt the air in his lungs come to an absolute stop and the vacuum of space suck away every moderately decent feeling he was having. Virgil had never been tossed out into space but he figured that this feeling was pretty close to how his carbon based body would react to Absolute Zero.

“We have known you for two years,” Logan continued, talking much like he was the dam and the words were the water breaking through his barriers and drowning them both. “Ever since we picked you up from TS-1219, you have portrayed a certain personality: you don’t smile, despite having told us that humans smile to show happiness, you’ve always held yourself at a distance and been closed off about your past. You have always been a difficult person to get to know, although Roman, Patton, and I have put forth a valiant effort to befriend you, Virgil. However in just the short time Janus and Remus have been on our ship, you have-- you have--”

His upper arms writhed in the air with hopelessness bordering on frustration that was covering some other emotion Virgil couldn’t quite pick out and was afraid to pick out. This was Logan, and he didn’t do “hopeless”. He had a plan for everything. He was the anchor in the storm, the calm in the chaos, the reassurance in the panic. When Virgil had lost everything and everyone, Logan had shown up and pulled him out of that dark place.

“Were you unhappy?” Logan asked quietly with all his lights going dark, “Did we make you unhappy?”

Virgil's mouth moved, but the lack of oxygen in his lungs twisted his insides into a mess, wriggling like a knot of snakes that were devouring each other. Before he even knew what he was doing he sprung across the table, catching Logan in the Cosmos’s Most Awkward Hug ever. Janus’s stupid tea spilled again but Virgil couldn’t have cared less about getting hot leaf juice on himself when Logan was sitting across from him wondering if he was the reason that Virgil had hated living for so long.

Logan was larger than him, but Virgil fit his arms between Logan’s upper and lower ones and held him as tight as he could, tighter than he could, tightly enough to convey all the words he couldn’t articulate. He buried his face into Logan’s crystal collarbone just as Logan’s probably completely confused, maybe a little terrified arms circle back around to tentatively hold him back.

“Vir...gil…” He whispered. “What…?”

“No, no, nonono,” Virgil said, “No, Logan. I wasn’t-- I’m not-- I swear--”

There was something warm trailing down his cheeks, and it took him a half a quisannu to realize, oh, those were tears. His tears.

He was crying.

Logan floundered his upper arms. “Virgil you-- your eyes--!”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil said.

Logan made a hysterical noise in the back of his throat, running lines of agitated lights up and down his arms. Virgil could feel the warmth of them as he pressed his face into Logan’s chest, like holding his palm to a birthday candle. The alien smelled like dish soap-- the fancy stuff that the Ekans kept in their kitchen that made the best bubbles at two in the morning when they were trying to clean up any signs that they had been making cookies.

“I do not understand why you are apologizing,” Logan said desperately, “Please do not apologize! I was the one who asked--”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil said again, “That I made you… fuck, Lo...Did I really…?” He sucked in a dangerous breath, an urgent, determined, dire breath and forced it back out.

“You guys made me so happy, Lo,” Virgil told him. “You don’t… you really don’t know how happy you guys made me.”

Because they did make him happy. They made him so stupid happy. Virgil’s favorite memories were the ones where Patton was hopping around the kitchen, experimenting with new foods and sweeping everyone else in to dances, the ones where Roman was polishing his sword collection and telling the corresponding tales for each weapon, the ones where Logan read off science tidbits to the room and got excited for new experiments in testing, the ones where the others let him play around with their broken electronics and he created something ultimately useless but that the others were so amazed over. They were the memories that bandaged up the gaping wound in his heart and finally allowed it to heal over, the ones that reminded him he could smile, that there were still things to smile about.

They pulled him out of the black hole of despair he’d fallen into, they brushed the Welsor fighting ring’s dirt off of him, and they accepted him-- even when Patton had started out so terrified of him and Roman was so distrustful and Logan was struggling to climb that language barrier between them.

When Janus had disappeared from Earth, Virgil had been left empty. The three of them had filled him up again.

And they hadn’t asked for anything in return for it.

Virgil wasn’t sure how to tell Logan that in definite words, in concrete breaths, in a way that didn’t dredge up the memories of who he was before Logan, Patton, and Roman. Because he was sorry he ever made them doubt how happy Virgil had been with them, that he made Logan so scared he had to ask the question out loud, that he hadn’t realized his actions could have been perceived that way at all.

Sometimes Virgil forgot as alien as they were to him, he was just as much as an unknown to them.

There were a billion, million, trillion stars in all the galaxies and Virgil would give them all up for the sake of the people he called family. Screw Earth and the Human Race; Virgil had already decided he didn’t want to save his own last name. He didn’t want the people that he had grown up with.

He wanted the three aliens and Janus and hell maybe even Remus too, when the guy stopped trying to sell them to the Space Pirates of the Caribbean. He wanted to travel and see nebulas, watch the death of a star and the formation of a sun and all that stupid stuff he never thought he was ever gonna see.

He wanted to be able to turn around and grasp at the nearest person and ask “Are you seeing this?! Isn’t it so fucking cool?!” Because that was his deepest desire, what he saw in the Mirror of Erised, what he would be happy doing for the rest of his tiny, insignificant life.

There was a thin line between being content and being happy and Virgil had walked on the far side of it for most of his life. Before Janus, he had clawed his way through his parent’s disappointed gazes and he had resigned himself to being content on the days where they’d rather ignore him than ask him if he had gotten any better at kissing his teachers shoes. Before Janus’s death, he had been content with those stolen late nights with Janus and happy with the cherished few hours he could get away with.

Before, before, before. Virgil had been content with what he had. He wrapped himself around those things that brought him warmth and he held onto those memories even when they burned him-- even when Janus’s ghost had been laughing in his ears and he had torn himself apart missing it, he clung to the concept of it. He had been content once upon a time, and he was content knowing that even if he had never reached that state again.

But now?

Now, he was more than content.

He was happy.

Because Janus wasn’t dead and he had Logan, Patton, and Roman who wanted him around. Because he was in space and learning new things. Because it was everything he had never dared dreamed of and more.

“Oh Great Disney,” A voice behind them said, “What did you do to him, Pocket Calculator?”

Logan shifted slightly, but he did not go as far as to try to remove Virgil from clutching him. Even from behind closed eyes, Virgil could tell he was giving off purple flashes in regular slow inverals, the type that usually calmed Virgil down when he was waking up from a nightmare and couldn’t get imaginary alien blood out from under his nails.

“I ah… I’m afraid I’m not entirely certain,” Logan admitted. “He mentioned that perhaps I was doing too much thinking this early in the rotation.”

Roman-- Virgil couldn’t think of another person who’s footsteps could sound so dramatic other than Janus, but Janus didn’t have a tail-- let out a huff, “Yeah well! I would also burst into tears if you started talking about warp cores and all that junk before I got my Shishdouble.”

“Is that what this is?” Logan asked tiredly. “Crying?”

There were some sounds of things being pushed around, cabinets being opened and closed; Roman must have been looking for food. A specific type of food. The food that Virgil had already poured all over the floor and then cleaned up hurriedly and placed back on the counter.

“Uh yeah,” Roman said, “Seriously, what did you say to him? Virge, whatever it was, I’m sure he didn’t mean--where is my Shishdouble?”

Virgil gave Logan another, last tight squeeze and untangled himself from the rocky alien. He was a little wobbly standing back up, but he managed and he even got to rub away the slight tear tracks on his cheeks.

“Sorry, Lo,” He rasped out.

Logan was peering at him curiously and Roman, too, now. The latter had a spoon in his mouth and was watching from next to the counter, his bone plates clacking together in what Virgil thought might have been surprise.

It took Virgil a moment to figure out why. He was sure he looked great: his bed head was probably still in effect and he was wearing a sleep shirt with too many holes in it, not to mention the way his face grew blotchy when he cried and the red rim to his eyes.

But even through all that, he was smiling. Teeth and all. Oh God, when was the last time he smiled like this? Had he ever?

“You broke him!” Roman hissed.

“I didn’t--!!” Logan snapped back.

And Virgil laughed. It felt a bit like he was letting go of a weight he didn’t know he was holding, like an invisible straight jacket being cut off him, like he had been drowning his entire life and just now came up for air for the first time.

“S-sorry,” He laughed between gasps for breath, “I-- oh fuck, god, sh-shit! I’m sorry!”

“Don’t let Pat hear you say that,” Roman said, “You’ll make both his hearts give out with such strong language.”

“I have already said this, but it bears repeating,” Logan said, “You do not need to apologize, Virgil. I appeared to have overstepped your boundaries with my personal questions and that is my fault. I should be apologizing to you.”

“Disney, guys,” Roman moaned. His tail knocked against the counter, “Just how deep did the two of you get this morning? Its only the seventh Phisannu.”

Virgil laughed again, shorter, lighter.

Because he was happy.

Not just content with things, but happy.

Happier than he thought he had ever been.

“To answer…” Virgil said, looking at Logan, “to answer your question, Lo, I am the happiest fucking man in the galaxy. I am living my best life. If I die right now I will have, like, no regrets at all.”

Logan and Roman shared a look. Roman sucked on his spoon for a second before popping it back out and using it to point at him.

“So this whole…. “Pleasant personality” gimmick is sticking around?” The Erefren asked, sounding damn near disappointed. “You’re much less entertaining to make fun of when you’re upbeat.”

“You like kicking men when they’re down, Princey?”

“Only when they attempt to steal the 350 griot Shishdouble that I bought for myself and specifically told them not to even think about taking.” Roman pointed to Virgil’s abandoned bowl of jello like cubes. They jiggled in accordance with the barely recognizable power of the distant engines.

“Who says I wasn’t getting it for you?” Virgil asked sweetly. “Maybe I was being a decent person!”

Roman blinked several times, twisting between Virgil and the bowl. Virgil could see the moment his suspicions melted away: Roman’s telltale tail started wriggling in the air behind him dangerously close to lodging into the cupboards (Which, unfortunately would not have been a new occurrence, but Virgil doubted that Patton and Logan’s combined budget plan included funds for new cabinet doors. Again.) His face flushed purple in a way that suggested he was letting himself be flattered and he picked up the bowl delicately.

“Oh, well,” He said, “That was really nice of you, Vee. This “kind actions” routine is different but I think we could all certainly get used to it! Needless to say no small actions will go unappreciated under my watch from here on out!”

“You trust me way too much,” Virgil told him as he took an exaggerated bite of his stupid cough syrup tasting Jello.

“Wait what--”

Logan winced from his spot at the table, “He poured that all over the floor.”

“Unapologetically,” Virgil added, because being nice was overrated and watching Roman get an impressive distance with his spit take was his new favorite breakfast event.

The Erefren pawed at his purple tongue and spit the rest of the half eaten Jello on the floor. He cursed in his native language, growled something in Common, and threw the bowl back on the counter.

“You heathen!” He cried. “You don’t mess with a man’s food! Don’t you know how much that cost me?”

“Is now a bad time to tell you I used the last of your shampoo last night?”

Roman’s bone plates clicked and then fanned out, oozing the red toxin that his race was known wildly for. He growled, baring his teeth and took a threatening step towards Virgil.

“I’ll take that as a “no”,” Virgil said, and offered a quick double thumbs up to Logan, “Like I said, no regrets!” Then he sprinted towards the door back to the inner bowels of the ship.

Roman let out an Erefren warcry and charged after him.

Erefrens were fast, but Virgil was faster. By just a little bit. It also helped that Virgil was able to dodge the sleepy Patton coming around the corner when Roman tripped right over him-- if the series of thuds and slew of curses were anything to go by. Virgil thought about turning to check but then a bone lodged into the wall mere inches from his face and the flight instincts kicked in again.

“Hey Pat! Bye Pat!” Virgil yelled.

“Careful!” Patton’s voice called after him. “No Running in the halls--”

“I’m gonna eject you into Space, you Deathworlder!” Roman bellowed drowning out the rest of Patton’s helpful advice. “My Shishdouble! Virgil! Have you no honor?!”

And yeah, Virgil thought that if every morning started like this for the rest of his life….he wouldn’t mind it. At all.

Out here in Space? He was happier than he thought he could ever be.

#sanders sides #Virgil Sanders #Janus Sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #Alien Au #anxceit #platonic analogical #Sympathetic Deceit #eighteen pages of Virgil being a happy boy in space #humans are space orcs #sometimes I just want them to be happy #okay? okay #1am editing spree #rip Romans Shishdouble #and his shampoo #Virgil being a little shit #wow I said fuck a lot in this

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mindofharry · 4 years

Text

Wave G.D

in which you move to california for the summer and grayson is the life guard.

based in the 80s !!!

smut and fluff !!! feedback is welcome as always <3

The sun beamed through your window, blinding you when you opened your eyes. you sighed placing a hand over your poor watered eyes, reminding yourself to buy curtains. California was good - better than your old town. but waking up blind every morning for the last week was not something you enjoyed. but you’d take that over madonna being blared at 6am by your 14 year old sister, tanya. God, sometimes you even missed it. missed the loud, chaotic energy of your small hometown, and your weird little family. but as you said, california is good. you reminded yourself, change is good. growth is good. sometimes you forgot that you have to grow to be better, and that change isn’t some evil thing. you need change to move on and become better.

Your aunt had been kind enough to let you stay in her home for the summer - she was off doing god knows what, and needed someone to cat and house sit. You were the first one to offer. Lord only know, that if you didn’t take this offer, you would’ve stayed in that town for the rest of your life. like you, your aunt escaped the town of houston. all your family grew up in houston. a town in a town, you called it. it was small, only a population of 2,000 people. not many people left either - so when you did, it comes as a surprise.

you wanted to travel, see the world. and california was just one stop on your trip.

Today was day of looking for jobs, you had put it off too many times this week. you told your mother you would get a job on the first day here - it’s been 7 days. And your mother was starting to call more than twice a day. You wanted to become a writer or a journalist - that was the dream. but that had to be put on hold for now. even though thought your aunt was paying the bills etc, you still wanted to find a job to make friends and have some cash. you saw a nice dinner about 10 minutes away from here, so maybe you’d have dinner there once you had some cash. beats having microwave dinners every night.

so with that in mind, you got up and made your way to the bathroom. it was small and quaint. exactly like the house. it was nothing special - which is what you loved. a small little home, with small little bathrooms. that’s sounded quite nice to you. After looking around your small bathroom, you turned on the shower, hissing a bit as the hot water hit your skin.

you walked out of the bathroom, leaving the water run for a minute. Opening the dresser pressed against the wall, you decided on a white crop top and denim shorts. Your mother would kill you if she saw how small the shorts were, but she wasn’t here. You grabbed a bra and underwear from the top drawer before walking back into the bathroom. you stripped down, leaving your huge t-shirt on the floor.

When you stepped in the shower, you thought about how good this summer could be. Even if you ended up not making any friends, it still could be the best summer of your life.

so you had to make the best of it.

After your shower - that you spent way too long in, you got dressed into the clothes you grabbed earlier. your hair was still soaking wet, but the towel and the Californian air would dry it. You brushed your teeth, and attached your septum piercing onto your nice. “does this look like i’m cool, or i’m going to rob you?” you asked yourself in the mirror. your mother, hated everything about the piercings and tattoos. She said quote “i feel scared looking at you, y/n”. Tattoos especially made you feel so creative and free, something about them made you feel so happy.

Running down the stairs, you grabbed your converse slipping them on. slipping you mean - pulling them on. God, they were hard to get on. you looked into the drawer and found your purse with, 20 dollars in it. “great” you sighed walking out the door and locking it.

your aunt lived in a nice neighbourhood, small houses, small families. usually people that just had kids or older people that didn’t want to be a put in an old persons home. it was nice and relaxing. different from houston, you’d admit. but nice and needed.

The walk to the centre of town was fine. You got a few looks, considering the town was so small and everyone knew everyone. You were basically the new kid at school. But so far no ones said anything bad - that you know of. The town was full of stores. Retail stores, smaller family stores like toy stores etc.

you spotted the diner straight away, running across the street quickly. Luckily spotted a sign saying they were looking for more staff - you knew diners were quite popular, so you really got your but in there. A tall woman, with brown hair and warm smile greeted you at the till. “hey, darling. what can i do for you” she asked, you looked at her name badge, lisa. A nice name for a nice lady. “i’m actually looking for jobs, saw that you were looking for staff! maybe we can schedule an interview or something?” you asked picking at your nails. lisa looked you up and down and then sighed. “well, if i’m being honest, you’re the only one in weeks that’s offered to do some work around here” she confessed, it made your heart shatter when she looked down - it looked like she was about to cry.

she sighed once again to herself “you good with people?” she asked, placing a napkin down on the counter. you nodded, messing with your hands. “i know first aid too. real good with kids, i was going to study to be a teacher” you confess, trying to butter yourself up.

lisa nodded “what’s your name?” she asked and you put your hand out to shake hers “y/n l/n. i’m looking after my aunts house for the summer” you say and she smiled. “well good. you’re hired” she grinned pulling you into a hug.

“welcome to the team, honey”

After that and a celebratory milkshake, you decided to go the beach that was a 5 minute walk from the diner. lisa said her daughter works just around the corner from her and her sons surf and do lifeguarding down at the beach. Maybe you’d run into them. they had to be maybe 16? You didn’t know anyone older than that, that wanted to be a lifeguard willingly.

You took over your converse and socks as the sand because harder to walk in. there wasn’t much wind and it was really hot so of course it was packed full of families and teenagers. Most were locals, but others travelled hours to come this beach - and you weren’t sure why, until now.

A man probably 20 or 21, was running towards you, topless. It was hard to look away, his abs were just staring at you. His red shorts clung to his thighs - he reminded you of show that had aired in september, something like bay watch. He looked like he belonged on that show. You wouldn’t mind getting to see that everyday. You now understand why there was probably more teens than families.

Grayson had spotted you the minute you stepped foot on the beach. god, were you beautiful. Your simple outfit was like the sexiest outfit he’d ever seen, because you were wearing it. Your piercings and tattoos were so incredibly hot, he’d never seen anyone like you if he was being honest. He came from a town where not many people expressed themselves, everyone except him and his twin that is - and now apparently you. Ethan, graysons twin, spotted you too. He knew grayson was already head over heels for you.

“she’s definitely new” ethan voiced climbing out of the water, pulling his shorts up. grayson nodded agreeing “yeah, might go, uh see how she is” grayson said making ethan chuckle. “sure, whatever you say bro” Ethan laughed before walking off the his chair.

Grayson began running up to you, he could see you checking him out. Good, he liked that.

finally after what felt like ages he arrived at where you decided to sit down. You looked up at him smirking cocking your head to the side.

“grayson dolan” he smiled sticking his hand out, you shook it still with a smirk on your face. “y/n l/n” you say as he sat down beside you. “you’re new to town right?” he asked putting a hand through his hair. you just nod putting your hand on the sand.

“met your mom earlier. said she had two handsome boys at the beach. she must have meant the other one” you tease making grayson raise an eyebrow, smirking. “oh yeah?” he asked resting on his elbow.

“hmm” you hummed looking down on him. “i have to say, never gotten that one” grayson said, you just shrugged “maybe you just need some humbling grayson dolan” you said standing and wiping your shorts to get the sand off.

“i’m working in the diner tomorrow. maybe you can come and i’ll humble you some more”

“i think i like the sound of that y/n l/n” grayson smirked getting up himself. “see you then, grayson” you smile walking away.

fuck, he thought. He was going to make y/n l/n his.

you arrived home smiling like crazy. you’re not even 24 hours here and you’re already head over heels for a man you know hardly anything about.

you pulled off your shoes again and through them on the floor. when you skipped into the kitchen and put on the radio, girls just want to have fun came on. You grabbed a spoon and danced around the kitchen waiting for cyndi lauper to sing. “i come home, in the morning light” you sing jumping up and down.

“girls they wanna have fun”

after dinner and another shower you watch a movie and then head to bed, waiting to see that lifeguard again tomorrow.

You woke up early on your own body clock. that has never happened before, but seen as you’re meeting a boy and having your first day of work it seems to make sense to you. you shower and use all the good stuff. you also shave - just in case, you never know.

you leave all your peircings and change into skinny black jeans and a fleetwood mac shirt. lisa said she’d give you the uniform in your locker and that you could change in the bathroom if you’d like, you agreed with that. it meant that you didn’t have to wear the uniform home. you wore your converse and placed your hair in a loose ponytail.

you walked to the kitchen and grabbed a water and apple, and ate it quickly chugging the water down afterwards. you quickly ran back to the bathroom and brushed your teeth, before running to the door and making your way to the dinner - you really didn’t want to be late on your first day.

“y/n!” lisa smiled pulling you into a hug. “good to see you again” she said pausing “go get changed and then i’ll teach you some bits” she grinned placing a hand on my shoulder and pulling me along into the locker room. “here your locker, your uniform is in there. you can change in here or the bathroom just down the hall” she said, making you nod with a smile.

lisa left and you got dress into the blue top and skirt, the collar was lined with red and there was a white apron placed around your waist. your white converse actually went perfectly with the uniform, so you gave yourself a pat on the back for that.

once you walked out the place look a bit more lively, which made you happy and eager. You wanted to get on the locals good side. “oh good! you’re ready, this is lily. she’s a little bit older than you, working here part time” lisa said introducing you guys. you smiled and shook her hand “y/n” you say and she smiled “so nice to meet you” she replied taking the pen out of her hair.

“so all you have to do in take people’s orders. then tell the chef” lisa said giving you pen and paper “i won’t put you on the till yet, but i will teach you tomorrow” she said and you smiled nodding. “be nice, smile and make small talk” she listed and then placed a hand on your back “you’ve got this. now table two needs a waitress” she said pushing you off. you walked down around the counter and to table two. “hi, what can i do for you” you say smiling.

“huh, y/n” grayson said making you look up from you paper. you smirk at him dropping you arms down to your waist. “grayson dolan, knew you couldn’t resist me” you tease making him laugh. “seducing costumers on your first day? y/n seriously?” grayson said making you shake your head.

“shut up. what can i get for you” you say and grayson smiled. “are you on the menu?” he asked leaning back. you bite your lip, trying to hide your blush. “maybe. what’s the offer?” you asked rocking back and forth on your feet. “a dinner. me and you. maybe some kissing, never know” he said placing his hands on the table.

you shrug smirking again, you tear a piece of paper out and begin to right down your address “pick me up at 7.” you say and give him the sheet.

“now what can i get for you?”

the day went by rather fast after grayson asking on you a date. you loved the job, lisa and lily so much already and knew this summer was going to be one to remember.

“y/n you did so good today” lily complimented taking off her apron. you smiled “thank you. it was actually a lot of fun” you say taking out your clothes out. “saw you talking to gray” lily said with a teasing smile.

“oh shut up! it’s only one date”

“grayson dolan does not do dates. consider yourself lucky, than man looks like wants to marry you” lily said making you roll your eyes. “now i have to go home to my husband and baby while you are out enjoying your life” lily said dramatically making you roll your eyes.

“enjoy” you say waving and walk off out of the locker room.

you say goodbye to lisa before pratically running home to get ready for your special night with grayson.

once you got home you ran to your room and placed your clothes in the wash basket, after a quick shower you pull out the one dress you packed, a white off the shoulder dress. it was nothing special, but it was comfortable and you felt pretty damn good in it - and of course your signature converse. you put your hair into a half up half down sort of look and only put on some mascara and blush. you wanted to look simple, yet cute. but the piercings and tattoos kind of cancelled out the cute.

you look at yourself in the mirror and nod at yourself. “you can do this. you can have fun” you say and place a hand on your hip. “you look good.” you say and smile and then just on time, grayson knocked on the door with flowers in his hands.

you walked down to the door and took a breath in before opening it. grayson stood before you, in a white shirt and dress pants. the sleeves of his shirt were rolled up so you could see the vains, God he looked good.

“wow. you look beautiful” grayson breathed out handing you the flowers, you blushed and smiled. “thank you, come on in” you say walking to the kitchen.

you walk back down and see grayson leaning against the table his hands in pocket. “hmm. you look so good” grayson said standing up. you just held out your hand “why don’t we skip dinner and go the beach instead?” you asked and grayson raised an eyebrow.

“sounds great”

so you both walked down to the beach hand in hand. laughing at the most stupidest of things.

“i thought you were from bay watch the first time i saw” you laugh and grayson pushed you away pouting. “so sexy” you giggle making him shake your head. “well i for one heard wedding bells seeing you” grayson teased pulling you into him. you hummed and looked up him. “you’re definitely husband material” you say walking down to the beach.

“sure” he said rolling his eyes and pulling you down. none of you had towers or spare clothes, but this. this moment is what you both needed. the cold air, the waves crashing and the birds talking. all you could hear was the water, the birds and your giggles.

you pulled off your dress rather quickly, leaving you in a black lace bra and panties. grayson was gawking, he pratically had to close his mouth with his hand. your body, was perfection. it was beautiful. Once grayson was ready he picked you up making you squeal and ran to the water.

“grayson” you giggle and hit his back lightly.

“oh shit, it’s cold” you say wrapping yourself around grayson. “oh is it?” he teased placing his hands on your thighs. you smirk knowing exactly what he was doing.

“yeah, it’s cold” you say putting a hand in his hair. you look down to his lip and bit your lip making him groan. “fuck it” he said placing his lips on yours. you moan and he lets his tongue make its way into your mouth.

“fuck me” grayson hummed into your mouth making you giggle and push his head into the water.

“try and catch me!”

You both come out of the water soaked and giddy. “put my shirt on” grayson said throwing his shirt at you.

you pull it over your head and place your hand in graysons after he put his pants back on. “you wanna come back to mine?” you asked and he nodded “no ones home. for the whole summer” you say walking backwards.

“so we can fuck anywhere” you say smirking, grayson groans and picks you up making you laugh. he pratically carried you the whole way home, only putting you down to unlock the door.

once you guys reached your bedroom he kissed you again, picking you and throwing you on your bed. you lay there looking up at him with teasing eyes. “take of the shirt” he demanded, making you sit up and throw the shirt on the ground, leaving you in a wet bra and more than wet panties.

“so beautiful” grayson said as he climbed out of his pants, leaving him only in his boxers.

grayson grabbed your face in his hands and your lips finally meet once again. his fingers tighten around your face as he begins to kiss you roughly. one hands drifts from your face to your bare thigh, his fingers glide up and down your thigh making you shiver.

“you like that, baby?” he asked and you nodded “more” you begged and he pecked your lips. “soon” he said his fingers making their way between your clit, placing his lips back on yours.

you moan into his mouth as he begins to get faster, his fingers going to your slit, him playing around with it.

“don’t stop” you moan into his mouth, he looked at your teasingly. “don’t want my cock then?” he asked cocking his head to the side. you nodded quickly, “yes gray, i do, want it so bad” you moan bucking your hips.

“cum, and then i’ll make you so full”

you cummed quickly, your hips going in all different directions. he waited for you to come down from your high before taking over your panties and bra. he sighed in content, “so beautiful” he repeated kissing your breasts and down your stomach.

“please” you begged again, making him smirk. “one second, honey” he said kissing your thighs. he pulled down his boxers and you moaned at the sight, his cock was huge and the tip was full of pre-cum. you wanted his cock in you, now.

after putting on the condom he had in his pocket grayson finally pushes into you, making you moan out. “oh fuck” you moan holding onto graysons shoulder. grayson gets slower and slower. “come on grayson. fuck me like the bad girl i am” you whispered into his ear. he groaned and placed a hand on your neck, before pounding into you. you bed begins to creak loudly banging against the wall. he wraps his hand around your neck tighter making you scream out.

“keep going, gray” you say bucking your hips.“i’m gonna cum” you cry and graysons nods going faster. “me too. come on, cum for be princess” he said pounding into you.

you both cum and grayson stays in you a little longer, when he takes his cock out you feel empty, but he just pulls you closer to him.

“who knew you could fuck like that” you tease placing your head on his chest. grayson just chuckled and kissed your head, pulling you closer to him.

“another round?”

“how could i say no, lifeguard”

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bbyboybrock--archived · 4 years

Text

The Box [Part 2] (Colby Brock Imagine)

Summary: *REQUEST* PART 2 OF THE BOXXXXXX (please and thank you 🥺) [Read Part 1 of the Box here]

Written: 2020

Word Count: 1,536

Warnings: Stockholm Syndrome, angsty??, kidnapping, unhealthy relationship, mention of sex, manipulation

Masterlist

It would be my luck that a global pandemic that resulted in the world shutting down for two weeks would happen right after I got kidnapped. At first, I thought that I was lucky. The guys couldn’t move to Hawaii anymore, which means I could probably escape. Then I found out that the whole moving to Hawaii thing was a joke. They were just moving to a house with a backyard so tropical that it looks like Hawaii. I should have known that they wouldn’t just abandon their lives in Los Angeles like that. Especially with Sam and Jake dating Kat and Tara, who were going to stay here.

They still decided to move during the lockdown. Which worked out in their favor, if I’m being completely honest; Sam, Colby, and Jake got a big moving van for their bigger stuff because they lived in the same building and could share the space. That gave Colby more room in his car for me. I got put into the trunk because everyone decided that it was less suspicious than Colby driving around with me blindfold in the passenger seat. They didn’t want me to know how to get to the new house or the address. For a group of guys who collectively share one brain cell, they’re not stupid when it comes to committing a felony. I’m pretty sure Colby drove around longer than he needed to just to throw off my sense of direction and how far away we are from the apartment.

Two weeks turned into three months of this bullshit lockdown. I almost got lucky when Sam broke his back. I was left Corey and Jake and I thought would be easy because I could appeal to their sympathetic side. Sadly, that didn’t work. I was halfway out before they caught on and dragged me back to Colby’s room.

I say Colby’s room, even though it’s our room because sometimes I don’t feel like I belong here. At least, not at first. Colby moved in some of my stuff into the room so I would feel at home. But being taken here against my will, and finding out that Colby stalked me before we met, takes out of the homely feeling of living with your boyfriend. But the more I'm stuck here, the more it starts to slowly feel like home.

I will say that I’m glad that Colby hasn’t forced himself on me. He understands the gravity of the situation and isn’t making it worse. I now get monitored internet access, which I didn’t have before, and I’m allowed to make YouTube videos now. Colby edits them to make sure I don’t upload subliminal messages. He’s also got me a lot of hobbies that don’t require the internet or social media to keep me occupied while he works and leaves the house. He got me a Nintendo switch with a few games. He put it on parental mode so I can’t go on twitter or anything. He’s been getting me art supplies and stuff so I can be creative. If I want to get anything with my money, I just tell him and he either orders it for me with my card or watches me shop.

If I’m being completely honest, this isn’t as bad as I made it out to be at first. While I mostly don’t feel like this is my home at first, the more I stay here the more it feels like it is becoming my home. I almost don’t want to leave. If the people in my life before Colby gave up so easily when I started talking to them less, then they weren’t really in my life in the first place. My parents didn’t like the idea of me moving to LA when I was 18, but I wanted to be an actress so I left. It was almost like they were rooting for me to fail every time I called home with news about failed auditions. They were happy when I did land roles, but they would always remind me that it didn’t mean I was going to make it. My friends back home were even less supportive, never believed that I was going to make in the first place. I’m pretty sure one of them started a rumor that I was a porn star just to make ends meet. Maybe Colby coming into my life was for the best.

At least I’m not stuck with just the boys 24/7. Tara and Kat would come over every once in a while to hang out with their boyfriends, and I quote, “to give me a break from dealing with the testosterone.” There have been a few times when the whole friend group got together for a party. Those were fun. Despite all the limitations, this situation isn’t all too bad.

“Hey babe, I’m back and I got you some stuff,” Colby says as he walks into the living room. I don’t have to be confined to Colby’s room anymore with a chain on my ankle. I have an anklet that shocks me if I get too close to the edge of the property. It sounds scary and a but I know he does it because he loves me. I don’t really want to leave the house anyway, with the pandemic still going on out there.

“Oh yay! I’ll wait for you to get out of the shower.” I save my spot in animal crossing and continue playing while Colby goes to decontaminate himself from the outside world.

Five minutes later Colby comes back out of the shower in sweats and dripping wet hair. He has a towel around his neck and slowly starts to dry his hair. I quicksave again before shutting off the game to give my undivided attention to Colby.

“You can go through the bags. I’m still wet and don’t want to ruin everything. You can also put the snack stuff in the mini-fridge.” There’s an unspoken rule in the house if you don’t keep it in your room or put your name on it, it’s fair game. So Colby pulled the mini-fridge out of storage to keep my food in the room when we first moved in to keep me happy with the food that I love.

“Was it crowded? You were gone for a long time today.” I grab the bag with stuff from the grocery store and start putting it away first.

By the time I finish Colby is fully dressed and his hair is mostly dry. He going through the remaining bags. I close the fridge and join Colby in the bed. Looking back at Colby now, with his stop blue eyes and steadily growing stubble, I feel bad for how I reacted when the whole thing started. I said mean things to him, things I didn’t mean at the time. I was just scared and mistook his kindness and affection for general creepiness. This is still the same Colby that I fell in love with before I found the box in his office closet.

“It wasn’t that crowded today. I think that everything calmed down from how it was earlier this year. I just made a lot of stops on my way home. I got us lunch too, by the way. Anyway, I know you’ve been getting bored so I got you a few hobbies I thought you would like.” He dumps a bag full of yarn and knitting needles.

“Is this for what I think it is?” I pick up the various colors and marvel at them.

“I noticed how much your eyes light up every time we watch Harry Style’s Today Show performance. And I also saw the look in your eye when you saw people making it on TikTok. So I looked it up and found the actual stitch pattern thing. I thought you would have fun making your own. And then I just got a few things for you to up-cycle your clothes you’ve been watching a lot of those videos. And some tie-dye that we can do together. And a plant to brighten up the room.” He’s trying so hard to make me happy. And it’s working.

“Oh my God! You didn’t have to get me all this stuff. I could have gotten them online or something. You’re so sweet.” I throw my arms around him and kiss his cheek.

“I know this whole situation has been unbearable and not pleasant in the beginning. But you’ve been such a good sport with all of this. I wanted to thank you for being patient and willing to let me in again. I truly do love you, Y/N, and just want the best for you.” He pushes my hair behind my ear and cups my face.

“I know, I’m sorry for freaking out when I first found out. I didn’t realize that you were only looking out for me. I love you too, Colby. I won’t try to leave again, I promise.” And I mean it. I don’t have any reason to leave. I finally have someone who loves me and went this far to prove it, why would I want to?

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purplesurveys · 4 years

Text

1006

(found at xxbieberburnham)

“The rest of your life”

Are you independent or dependent? Dependent as all hell. I’ll put my foot down on very certain things, but most of the time I prefer hearing input or suggestions from people I trust. I definitely think it’s something I still have to work on because I know I’ll have to be mostly independent at some point.

If you could put your life into a category, where would it go? I feel like this would be easier to answer if you gave a list of categories. I don’t know what kind of insight you’re looking for.

How many animals do you have? I have two, but I call them pets.

Are you popular? Idk and I don’t care. All I know is I don’t actively seek to be so.

What time were you born? 9:11 in the evening.

Have you had any candy this week? Yeah, I had a gummy worm this morning. Mom bought a box of Halloween-themed sweets and there were cupcakes had gummy worms on them alongside marshmallows designed to look like a tombstone.

Are you more afraid of tornadoes or hurricanes? Hurricanes are terrifying, but I’m used to them. We don’t get tornadoes at all so I’ll not only be unprepared for those, but would definitely be more afraid of them too.

Do you like those nerd glasses? Sure, I still think they’re cute and look good on people but I never called them nerd glasses lol. Mine are kinda shaped like one.

Have you ever been in a fist fight? Nah, I’d be wiped out pretty fast.

What color is your house? A light shade of beige.

When was the last time you saw a rainbow? More than a year ago, I’m sure. It was during our ride back home from a journalism workshop, which if I remember correctly was all the way in Cavite. Goddamn we traveled a lot for those workshops.

Have you ever ate a crayon? I’ve never bitten off a piece but I’m not ruling out at least licking.

Ever rode in a helicopter? Nope. Would love to.

Do you like rabbits? Sure.

Do you like mushrooms? For the most part I don’t even think they taste like anything, so I never really had a problem with mushrooms.

“It’s like you step into the room and just press play”

What was the last movie you cried at? That Thing Called Tadhana. I had watched it five years ago after my first breakup; I got to go to Sagada shortly after that breakup, so that movie was actually very therapeutic for me at the time because it allowed me to release my feelings the way Mace did, also in Sagada. Now I’m stuck at home and can’t travel and that movie just hurt too much to finish.

What ice cream flavor best describes your personality? I don’t really...pair ice cream flavors with types of personalities.

Would you rather work for a small or large company? Large, because I feel like I’d be challenged more in those and thus learn more. Also it just looks nicer on resumés, if I’m being honest. Smaller companies are ok too but I prefer those that already have a rep for churning excellent results and having a good track record for workplace culture, like the company I’m currently working with.

Where's your favorite place to buy clothes? Ukays. I used to not like them, but my mom and sister did a great job reeling me in and making me see the appeal.

How many languages do you speak? Two.

What was the worst movie you've ever seen? Me Before You was such a waste of my time. Predictable, cheesy, and typical asshole-guy-softens-up-over-time-oh-and-just-as-you-start-to-root-for-him-we’re-gonna-kill-him-off. But idk, I was with friends who were into movies like those and I wanted to support them, so I went along to watch.

What video game have you played the most? Cumulatively, pretty sure it’s Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas.

What was your favorite TV show as a child? I was a Nickelodeon girl and Spongebob, Fairly OddParents, and My Life as a Teenage Robot were my top 3, with Jimmy Neutron closely trailing at #4. I loved Disney shows too but wasn’t really able to appreciate them as much until I got a little older and could understand their humor better.

What's your favorite sport? My answer won’t change - if it counts, pro wrestling. If it doesn’t, my next favorite is table tennis.

If you were given a brand new yacht, what would you name it? Nothing creative is coming to me at the moment.

Do you believe there’s life on other planets? Yes. Maybe not the ones in our solar system, but those out in the distant universe for sure.

What was the worst place you ever traveled to? Can’t say I’ve truly disliked a particular place we’ve been to. I will say that Chinese people have a...culture that I’m not used to, and I did not enjoy touring with a bunch of them during my cruise. They had buffet habits that I would consider unhygienic, they would sit at the same table my mom and I were eating at if there were available seats(??????? imagine if I just sat beside you at a diner while you’re having lunch?), and apparently it’s acceptable for them to actually look you in the eyes and point directly at you if they’re talking about you with other people. It was honestly a lot to put up with for six days, and the only reason I didn’t lose my temper was because my dad works in the ship and I didn’t want to cause him any trouble.

What is one thing you’re really bad at? Making art.

Do you believe in angels? No. I like referring to my grandpa as my guardian angel, but I don’t actually believe in angels.

Would you rather be a famous actor or musician? I know I’m awful at either, but I’d much rather act.

“where have you been all my life?”

If you could have invented one thing, what would it have been? It’d be cool to come up with something that ends up being widely popular and/or beneficial to society, but do it accidentally; like how popsicles came to be. Imagine building a legacy from your own oopsie lmao sounds like a pretty good deal to me.

What's your favorite exercise workout? I don’t do workouts.

What's your favorite thing to do? Wow, very straightforward. Hmm these days I’m slowly inching back to wrestling, so I’ve been watching compilations and documentaries and doing some catching-up here and there. Lately I’d say that’s my favorite thing to do, but that can always change.

What did you do for your 17th birthday? Gab and I went to Pinto and she brought me to Filio after. Then I got back home to see what Athenna had done to my room while I was out, which was to cover the floor with balloons and the walls with printed photos of Zayn Malik.

Does your local Wal Mart have benches in them to rest? First, we’ll need to have local Wal-Mart stores here.

Was your favorite stuffed animal really a teddy bear growing up? I never liked stuffed animals, so I didn’t even have a teddy bear.

If your house was haunted, what would you do? Not fuck with the ghosts/spirits.

Are you crazy in love currently? Not crazily, but in love.

Are you good at swimming? I can tread and do several strokes, but I also tend to panic so I think that eliminates the concept of me being a good swimmer.

What's worse: Slow internet or slow walkers? Slow internet. I can get around slow walkers; but unless I have mobile data, slow internet is out of my control for the most part.

What is the rudest thing a guy has ever done to you? I can’t pick between whistling at me, catcalling me, lunging at me, or flirtatiously harass me in front of his friends while I was minding my goddamn business carrying a goddamn box of cake at the mall. Yeah, not a very big fan of men.

Do you sleep with the sheets tucked in or out? Out.

What do you do to fall asleep faster? Put on a YouTube video and let autoplay take over.

Do you carry a bottle of water wherever you go? Yeah I used to, until I lost it.

Ae you afraid that one day you might get cancer? The fear of the possibility is there, but it’s not predominantly in our family history and so I’m more afraid of other issues I have a higher chance of getting, like high blood pressure.

“Letters to Juliet”

Are you a fast or slow walker? Fast if I’m running errands, slow-ish if I’m out for leisure.

Do you usually have to wear a belt with your pants? No.

Does it bother you when people's underwear hangs out? Kinda. Even more when their crack decides to show up too.

Are you usually the person to try new things with your hair? No, I am one of the last people in line when it comes to that.

When's your birthday? April 21st.

Do you own a bobble-head toy? Nopes.

What color was the towel you used to dry off with today after a shower? Turquoise.

Has anyone ever walked you home? I’ve had someone drive me home. Walking isn’t really applicable here.

Have you ever liked someone and they were taken? That’s never happened to me.

When was the last time you went fishing? In my past life, maybe.

True or false: You've read the book Lord of the Flies? False.

Have you heard of the band Yellowcard? Yes.

Have you ever seen the show Teen Wolf? I’ve seen an episode and oh my god it was so boring.

Do you have any quotes, lyrics etc on your walls? I used to until my mom took it down while I was in school. I made it myself, so it stung.

Are you a fan of Star Wars? No.

“Our parents never let us cross the street, but we did it anyway”

Has anyone ever told you that you have nice hair? Whenever it was actually nice, yeah. It was never my best feature though.

What brand of camera do you own? I have...an iPhone, if it counts, ha. My old DSLR was a Nikon.

Is there something you're not looking forward to? The next day. Having to go through rounds of anxiety is not enjoyable.

Have you ever read the book Thirteen Reasons Why? Have not read the book nor seen the show, but have read enough of the premise to know I am not a fan.

Do you wear white pants? Sure, I have a pair of white jeans that I absolutely love.

When was the last time you were really angry? Yesterday. My sister and I were ordering KFC from a food delivery app and no driver was taking it because drivers in that company are notoriously picky bitches about their destinations. They kept canceling our orders and at some point I had enough and proposed that we just get Pizza Hut, this time straight from the Pizza Hut website, which has always worked out for us before. So Pizza Hut confirms the order, calls me up and says the ETA, so far so good. Around 15 minutes later the doorbell rings and it’s...KFC? With our original orders? Apparently that stupid ass app took our order anyway after repeatedly canceling it, and I never got one fucking notification that our order was received. Tried to cancel Pizza Hut but they said they had already started making the pizzas, so in the end we had to pay for both meals. I had never been so angry.

Have you ever made a 3 pointer in a basketball game? Hah, of course not. I’ve barely made one of those free throws that are worth one point.

Do you think you look better with your hair up or down? I’ve gotten more compliments whenever it’s up, so that must look better on me even if I personally don’t necessarily agree.

Do you warm up before you hardcore exercise? I don’t exercise, but isn’t warming up recommended anyway?

Do you want a pair of Converse shoes? Not really; I suppose they’re alright. It’s not my favorite brand in the world, but I wouldn’t turn down a free pair either.

Are you more of a studs or hoops type of person when it comes to earrings? Hoooooooooops for days.

How many shirts do you have of your favorite band? Just one. I’m not a band shirt person.

Turn on the TV. What channel are you on? There’s no TV in this room.

Have you ever wore a tie before? Yeah, as a kid my mom sometimes made me wear neckties. They made me SO uncomfortable I was having internal breakdowns about being seen in public. I was 7 years old. Neckties to me were a boy thing and I felt 0% boy; and so it gave me such serious dysphoria. It’s like making a boy wear a pink tutu even if he’s already visibly distressed. Whenever I told my mom I felt uncomfortable, she would just tell me it “looks good.” Jesus Christ. Why did no one ever drag my mom to a parenting seminar? Did no one seriously see the signs???

What did you have for breakfast this morning? Garlic rice, bacon strips, and glazed ham.

“For the Krusty Krab”

Are you good at art? Of course not.

How many times have you read your favorite book? I don’t have one.

Name one thing that you really hate. Raisins, on their own and incorporated in a dish.

Have you ever tried walking on stilts? I haven’t.

Is there a war that you find interesting? Eh, not really. So many of historical accounts are bombarded with war narratives as it is, and I’ve just never really found disputes or tensions among countries to be the most interesting part about history. Plus women were mostly absent, and that makes it even more boring.

Would you rather live in the city or country? City.

Do you think $7 is too much for a movie ticket? Not always. $7 or ₱350 is actually pretty reasonable if you wanna see a movie at an upscale mall; people who watch movies in places like that shouldn’t be complaining about movie tickets that cost that much. But all movie theaters are the same anyway - pitch black, freezing, comfy chairs - so I just go to midscale malls where tickets would be like a hundred bucks cheaper since it’s gonna give me the same experience anyway.

Would you like to be a newscast person? For a long time I thought I wanted to be one because that’s what my entire family was rooting me to become. Eventually I realized reading from a teleprompter, interviewing guests, and asking questions to reporters is not a career I want.

Do you like word searches, coloring or crosswords better? Word searches, then coloring, then crosswords.

Close your eyes and press a random key on the keyboard. U.

How many William’s do you know? I don’t think I know anyone. It’s too foreign-sounding a name.

What time did you wake up this morning? I woke up at around 6 AM, but I fell back asleep immediately and woke up again around 30 minutes later.

Do you enjoy crutches? ...No? That seems a little insensitive for people who actually need them.

What's better: Snapple or Arizona tea? Arizona. It’s because I’ve never had the Snapple one, but tbh Arizona is already pretty delicious anyway.

Make a word out of the word: Dinosaur. Round.

“she said I love this song, I’ve heard it before”

When you were younger, did you play with legos? Yes. I was never a creative kid, but I liked playing with them anyway.

Do you like Trix cereal? It was only my absolute favorite cereal as a kid, no biggie.

Do you get nervous easily? Ugh, yes. My parents asked me to get water containers from our local water station last Saturday and I literally had to allot like two hours to brace myself and make a script in my head. I constantly rehearse shit nearly every time I have to go out of the house.

How long is your Facebook password? I’m not sharing that.

Do you like the movie Mean Girls? No, I didn’t find it funny the first time and that made me uninterested in giving it a second chance.

How do you want your wedding to be? Big, grand. Lots of friends, lots of food. Not Catholic/Christian.

Have you seen the movie or show Catfish? Nope.

Do you hate it when you arrive to something early? Not usually. Being early is my goal in most situations, unless I’m headed to like a party.

Have you ever been on Omegle? A few times as a teenager.

Are you still in love with one of your exes? Yes. It’s not going away for a while.

Do you think it's attractive when guys wear beanies? I don’t necessarily seek out men with beanies lol but I don’t think it looks bad on them either.

What's something that makes you feel shy in public? Unfamiliar situations.

Do you like the shows on MTV? No.

If you could go back and relive one day, what day? That last Friday I was in school before the lockdown happened. If I knew what the next eight months were going to look like, I would’ve stayed much longer in school, dragged my friends out to drink, blew my money on food, had more fun basically.

What's one word you hate to be called? Exhausting. Like being told I’m exhausting to be with. How does that not hurt?

#survey #surveys

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youarejesting · 4 years

Text

BTS365 Prompt.week 26

[Full Masterlist] [Prompt Masterlist]

Beta: @jamaiskook @jung-hoseok-s-airplane

Please tag me in your work if you use my prompts. I want to see your work. Ever your Jester.

Tell me your birthday and I will tag you on your special day!

═══════ ೋღ ღೋ ═══════

June 25th - July 1st

═══════ ೋღ ღೋ ═══════

Kim Seokjin - child to work

You smiled waking Seokjin up early, “Honey wake up and get dressed!”

He blinked disorientated, “what’s going on?”

You dressed your husband and led him to the car where he promptly fell back asleep.

You worked as an electrical engineer at a clean energy power plant and you smiled parking the car and guiding your sleeping husband inside.

You brought him to the front entrance with a smile, “hello y/n,” the security officer smiled.

“Hello miss, can we see some ID?” a young child asked and Seokjin seemed to wake up confused as to where you were taking him and why there was a small child working at a security desk?

“Here is my ID and this is my plus one,” you grinned cheekily.

“He is big, how old are you mister?” The child asked, handing over a small lanyard with smiley faces on it.

You lead Seokjin away with a smile and he frowned “are we at your work?” He looked around excitedly and noticed many children.

“Yes, we are,” you grinned.

“Why are there so many children?”

“They’re not children, they are just short, don't stare honey,” you bit your lip to keep from laughing as his head snapped forward.

“The tour is about to begin?” You walked into the assembly hall where everyone was going to gather before split into groups and led on guided tours. Seokjin got a little bag and inside was a water bottle and hat with the company logo and a colouring book. Seokjin sat in the tiny chairs and looked around at all the children shaking hands with some and introducing himself and the PowerPoint began.

“Welcome to ‘bring your children to work day’, I hope you are all excited—,” that was it, your husband's laughter was like the window cleaners on a Friday afternoon. He had turned bright red, his wide shoulders shaking but he was on board with the whole day smiling when they said there was free lunch.

But when you got a moment alone he seemed mischievous, “I guess it’s time we make a child so you can bring them to work,” he kissed your lips firmly and sat you on your work desk.

Min Yoongi - dog to work

Holly was happy, he didn’t understand why but today instead of Yoongi leaving him for hours, he picked up the leash and harness and walked him out the front door. Holly was nervous during car rides, laying his head on Yoongi’s lap waiting for the van to stop. Yoongi held Holly’s leash and walked him into a big building. They had treats, the area was cleared with a play pen and toys. Holly was feeding off of Yoongi's nervous energy, deciding to press his nose to the back of Yoongi’s knee in a comforting manner as if to say “I’m here”.

Yoongi was a human and couldn’t understand him, but he would always be there for him because Yoongi was his owner. Once inside the comfort of the quiet elevator Yoongi relaxed even if there was a beautiful woman onboard. Holly wasn’t a stupid dog he could smell the pheromones between the two and took matters into his own hands circling around the woman so she was tangled in the leash. Looking up at his owner with an “Are you proud of me?” expression.

Jung Hoseok - chocolate pudding

What had he done to deserve this? Hoseok was such a nice guy, everyone in school liked him and as far as he knew he didn’t have any enemies. All he did was say ‘Hi’ and you threw your drink in his face in the middle of the school cafeteria. The whole room quietened significantly and you looked up at his mouth falling open in small shocked ‘o’.

“I am sorry for bothering you” Hoseok laughed trying to appear nonchalant in front of you, taking long strides out of the cafeteria all eyes following his escape and when he was out of sight they all turned to look at you. Feeling the jolt of the sneers at how evil you would have to be to hurt the happy go lucky ‘Hope’ of the school.

You grabbed your pudding from your tray and bag and raced from the lunch venue, “Hoseok!” the desperation in your voice to find him. Racing along the corridors and around the corner you saw him walking into the bathroom. With no thoughts of where you were going, you ran inside.

“Hoseok wait I-OH MY GOD” you covered your eyes forgetting for a moment where you really were. You heard laughter and felt your body grow warm, your entire form turning red from the embarrassment”

“There is no one in here but me, and I am just drying my hair and face” His laughter didn’t ease “you can look”

You peeked, hearing him running water, and when you opened your eyes he was rubbing a damp paper towel through his hair and over his uniform. He turned to the hand dryer and leaned under it, completely missing his hair. You stepped over guiding his head under the warm air and tousling it between your fingers, reaching into your bag for a brush and helping dry and style his hair once more.

“I am sorry, I didn’t know it was you. I thought it was those rude girls in our year who have been harassing me” You frowned “I was going to finally stand up for myself. I am sorry”

“Hey, don’t be sorry.” Hoseok gave a small smile. It was empathetic with a soft tone, his hand gently touching your arm to show you he was there for you. “I was shocked and honestly I always wondered what it felt like to have a girl throw their drink in my face like the movies but I never wanted to be rude to a girl to find out”

He laughed and your hands went still in his hair.

“Do you like chocolate pudding?’ you asked in a panic

“I do,” He laughed amused by your strange outburst, reaching into your pocket you handed him the small tub and spoon.

“I am sorry”

Kim Namjoon - Helen Keller

You sat in your living room and listened to the radio as you did everyday, “Well, I am reading fan letters again and my assistant promises there are some good ones in here.” You crossed your fingers. Donut, your Labrador retriever laid his head on your lap. And you smiled holding the cup of tea in your hand, listening intently.

“This is from DonutBlind” He smiled

Dear Namjoon,

I am writing for some advice, I feel alone, I never leave the house. I am too scared. I lost all my friends. They say your mid-twenties are the greatest moment of your life but honestly it feels more like the beginning of a long prison sentence. The only thing that gets me through is your voice, your advice and I hope Rapmon your new puppy is doing okay, might I recommend the puppy school in the attached pamphlet they are super good and all the proceeds go towards the seeing eye dogs.

Love,

DonutBlind

“Well you seem to be very isolated, I want you to take the time to take a walk outside, might I recommend the C park by the river. I go there all the time with Rapmon, he enjoys it.” His mellow voice coming though softly and sending tingles down your spine. “You use me for your happiness and I ask that you please continue to do so, I am happy that my presence can bring you some solace. I will go to the puppy school you recommended so I can learn some skills to care for him effectively. It reminds me of a quote by Helen Keller, ‘The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched - they must be felt with the heart.’”

Any minute Jungkook, your carer who had helped you write the letter, would be over to help you dress for your guest appearance at the puppy school and part of you hoped he could attend so as to hear his voice in person.

Park Jimin - two halves @chickennoodlesoupfortae

Jimin had arrived at the party, he stood in front of two doors with curtains hanging over them, with a sign between them reading the board with instructions. “This is a lock and key party. Upon entering the women will select a lock and the men select a key” Jimin giggled quietly at the euphemism, stepping into the ‘Key’ door. Behind the curtain was a table on either side of the room, one held keys and the other masks. Jimin assumed the other room mirrored this one but with locks instead of key. Looking down at the table Jimin began inspecting the keys.

There were new modern keys and old antique keys. Jimin spotted a key tied with a soft lace ribbon, he assumed the guys didn’t want to wear it because it looked feminine but Jimin thought it looked aesthetic as hell. He took the old style golden key, placing it around his neck.

He peered back at the instructions “Throughout the night you have the chance to try to find your perfect match. Like kind Ladies and Gentlemen you must respect a person’s choice if they refuse to try the key and locks.”

Jimin had a small smile on his face, the anticipation made him bounce on his toes as he turned to the second table finding a matching mask in gold with a soft lace trimming. He fastened the piece over his eyes. He looked at the sign above this table.

“Once you have found your other half you may move to the seated booths and continue your evening, with or without your masks it is your choice.” He squared his shoulders ready to take on the party he truly believed could change his life.

Kim Taehyung - meteor (based on If the world was ending - Julia Michaels, JP Saxe)

Taehyung was in the tour bus stuck in traffic when his phone gave an alert to an earthquake. He didn’t feel it but it was all over the radio and the news when his phone gave a second alert. There was a meteor about to hit earth and it was unlikely anyone would survive. It was chaotic but in that moment as he stared at the other boys, you popped up in his mind.

Jeon Jungkook - watch

Jungkook was mesmerized by your acting skills; he owned everything you worked on. When he wasn’t working at the corner convenience store, he was watching your latest dramas and movies.Three shelves in his dvd case were dedicated to your work. He knew every line and every word, and he would always pretend to play the male lead saying their lines. He was your biggest fan, and one day he would be able to meet you and tell you how much you meant to him. You were happy with your friends having coffee and he was happy to just sit in the park and watch.

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casper-writes-stuff · 5 years

Text

Coffee Breath

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20694812

Summary: Patton owns a coffee shop, and his favorite regular, a college kid named Virgil, always shows up an hour after the shop opens, early in the morning.

Today he shows up half an hour earlier, and has something to share.

This is literally the softest thing I've ever written, and I've written some super soft shit guys.

I dunno, I heard the song Coffee Breath by Sofia Mills and I fell in love and also got moxiety vibes so I sat down and wrote.

Patton hummed softly to the song playing softly in the shop, wiping down a counter while he waited for the cute regular that usually came in right as the store opened, smiling softly at the thought of the purple hair, dark jacket, and tired eyes that were trademark for this particular customer.

Virgil came in, making Patton perk up brightly, tossing the towel beneath the counter on top of the buckets used to keep the towels in a place out of sight but reachable.

“Hey, kiddo! You’re a little early today, needed your caffeine fix more than usual?”

Virgil smiled at him, flipping his bangs out of his eyes before puffing out a breath of air to dislodge a few strands that stubbornly stayed in place.

“Nah, Pat, just wanted to see you before anyone else got here.”

Patton couldn’t help the soft blush dusting his cheeks as his grin turned beaming.

“Aw, kiddo! But you’re usually the only one who shows up for at least an hour before the next regular comes in.”

Virgil looked away, making Patton tilt his head because really, Virgil was a whole half hour early and he was a creature of habit. Always came in, grabbed a small hot mocha with only one shot of espresso, chatted with Patton until other customers started showing up, when he’d pull out his headphones and scroll through his phone until around nine, when he’d wave Patton goodbye.

Patton wondered what could be different today.

“Is something wrong?”

Virgil looked back at Patton, blinking as a bewildered expression settled on his face, as if he hadn’t expected Patton to come to the conclusion that something was wrong.

“Nothing, I uh… had something I wanted to talk to you about, actually? And I wanted to make sure we wouldn’t be interrupted.”

Patton glanced behind him at the kitchen, wondering if he could get away with sitting down with Virgil to talk for a bit.

He wasn’t worried about getting in trouble, really, he was the owner of the coffee shop, but he wanted to make sure he wasn’t forgetting anything that needed to be turned off.

“Alright! Let’s sit down then, I’d love to hear what you have to say!”

A corner of Virgil’s mouth lifted, a soft huff of laughter escaping his nose as he moved to sit in his usual booth while Patton untied his apron and set it on the counter before settling opposite the other.

Virgil seemed to hesitate at starting this conversation, but Patton only smiled patiently, waiting to see what his friend wanted to say.

“Okay let me just… I have this song I want to show you? I heard it the other day, scrolling through this uh… this app and wanted to check it out ya know? Made me think of you.”

Patton nodded eagerly. “Lay it on me, Vee! I love hearing new music.”

Virgil cleared his throat, cheeks dusting red as he pulled his phone out of his hoodie pocket. He messed with it for a moment before soft chords started playing from the speakers. Patton listened intently, smiling softly when the words started.

He didn’t say anything as the song played, wanting to really listen to the lyrics and understand why it had made Virgil think of him.

And then…

You got those big blue eyes, drive me crazy. Make me fantasize about you baby.

Patton’s eyes widened, looking at Virgil who was now a full tomato refusing to look in Patton’s direction, a sleeve covered hand hiding his mouth and eyes face firmly towards the wall.

And you smell so sweet, like fresh picked daisies, call me dahmer cause, your hearts so tasty.

Patton’s face started heating up to match Virgil’s as the song continued, but he refused to look away from the emo sitting in front of him.

For once, Patton wished the shop was silent so he could hear the song Virgil was playing for him more clearly.

Now my bed sheets smell like, your cologne, and in separate worlds we, sleep alone.

Patton finally had to cover his own face, though he left his eyes open and clear of obstacles to continue staring at Virgil, wanting to watch his face for any change in expression.

The song faded into silence, and neither man spoke for a long time. The quiet was only disturbed by the soft music playing in the coffee shop and the cars occasionally passing by outside.

Patton finally cleared his throat, face still burning as he gently took Virgil’s phone out of his hands, Virgil’s head snapping in his direction as Patton gently slipped his hands in the other’s now free one.

“I--” he cleared his throat again when his voice cracked, “I… Virgil, honey, are you trying to tell me you have feelings for me?”

Virgil tensed, eyes darting back towards the wall as his face grew red again and his shoulders scrunched up towards his ears.

Patton couldn’t resist the endeared giggle that escaped him. He reached for Virgil’s other hand so he could press them together and kiss his knuckles.

“I like you too.”

Virgil inhaled sharply, watching Patton’s lips intently as he lowered their hands just slightly.

“I uh… I’ve liked you for a while now? I just… Roman finally told me that if I didn’t, and I quote, ‘live out my very own coffee shop au’ then he’d kick me out of the dorm until I said something to you.”

Patton huffed out a laugh, having heard of Roman and his many shenanigans from Virgil before.

“You’re honestly my cutest customer, and sweetest, since you actually take the time to talk to me. I enjoy your company a ton, Virgil. I’d love to be able to go on dates with you, it’d be fun and spending more time with you when I’m not on the clock sounds lovely.”

Virgil smiled, eyes shining in a type of happiness that Patton hadn’t really seen before, not nearly as muted as he usually saw. His heart soared, and impulsively he leaned forward to rub his nose against Virgil’s, evoking a surprised laugh from him.

“Okay, okay that’s enough Pat, you’ve got work, and I need my mocha.”

Patton huffed, pouting slightly as he gave Virgil his space.

“Alright, fine. But I expect your company when I get off tonight, mister.”

Virgil breathed out a laugh, shaking his head in amusement.

“Yeah, alright Pat. I’ll pick you up.”

Patton beamed at him, tying his apron behind his waist.

“I look forward to it.”

#jo writes #moxiety #ts patton #ts virgil #sanders sides #thomas sanders #coffee shop au #college au #mentions of roman

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retardkid · 3 years

Note

1-150

1. Who was the last person you held hands with?

hm.. ex gf i think

2. Are you outgoing or shy?

shy

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?

a friend of mine i think but i am nut sure

4. Are you easy to get along with?

depends

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?

6. What kind of people are you attracted to?

i do not know

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?

haha no

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?

my ex gf

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

yes but just irl

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?

hm a friend online

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?

good morning

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

just few examples ^^

Cyberbitch26- Juliet Dies In Your Arms Tonight

Toto - Africa (Rayvolt Euphoric Frenchcore Remix)

Haustier - Track To Feel Valid To (Euphoria)

Kryonix - Lebendig Begraben

Gigi D'Agostino - L'Amour Toujours

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?

i think no

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?

yes

15. What good thing happened this summer?

i graduated

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

hm....

17. Do you think there is life on other planets?

yes

18. Do you still talk to your first crush?

19. Do you like bubble baths?

i did not tried it

20. Do you like your neighbors?

21. What are you bad habits?

a lot

22. Where would you like to travel?

all over the world travelling is nice

23. Do you have trust issues?

yes

24. Favorite part of your daily routine?

eating

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

belly and legs

26. What do you do when you wake up?

take medicine

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?

i like my skin color so non of these

28. Who are you most comfortable around?

a friend of mine, i m sostly calm around everybody that is not part of my family and that is a nice person

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?

30. Do you ever want to get married?

i wanted but i m thinking about it if i should do it really.

31. Is your hair long enough for a pony tail?

no :(

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?

i do not know

33. Spell your name with your chin.

what? oh ciuhnya< nb

34. Do you play sports? What sports?

35. Would you rather live without TV or music?

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

yes

37. What do you say during awkward silences?

something

38. Describe your dream girl/guy?

attractive and well educated, helps you and is on your side

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?

cheap shops

40. What do you want to do after high school?

i finished highshool so uhm what am i doing? i m at home my wish is to start a vocatinal training

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

idk

42. If your being extremely quiet what does it mean?

i m hungry and agressive

43. Do you smile at strangers?

no but i try to but it is awkward

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?

other space hopefully more civilized than we

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?

food

46. What are you paranoid about?

people who talk about me think

47. Have you ever been high?

48. Have you ever been drunk?

yes

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?

yes

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore?

blue

51. Ever wished you were someone else?

yes but as a joke i m happy to be not someone else

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself?

bad habbit about eating too much or doing not enough sport

53. Favourite makeup brand?

non

54. Favourite store?

55. Favourite blog?

56. Favourite colour?

blue

57. Favourite food?

food in general

58. Last thing you ate?

chicken

59. First thing you ate this morning?

nothing im hungry

60. Ever won a competition? For what?

yes

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what?

i punchd somone after school

62. Been arrested? For what?

63. Ever been in love?

yes

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss?

girl kissed me while i had a seizure i could not react just saw that ugly face

65. Are you hungry right now?

yes i am

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends?

i have a good friend found here but never ever found another good friend here lot of garbage some people are really nice and correct i really like to communicate with them to and a lot peopple are always open for questons #realtalk

67. Facebook or Twitter?

non

68. Twitter or Tumblr?

tumblr

69. Are you watching tv right now?

70. Names of your bestfriends?

secret

71. Craving something? What?

food,money, an apartment

72. What colour are your towels?

diffrent

72. How many pillows do you sleep with?

one dirty one i should wash

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?

i liked it a lot as child but no

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?

i have 5 maybe

75. Favourite animal?

broccoli

76. What colour is your underwear?

olive

77. Chocolate or Vanilla?

chocolate

78. Favourite ice cream flavour?

vanilla

79. What colour shirt are you wearing?

green

80. What colour pants?

non

81. Favourite tv show?

non

82. Favourite movie?

non

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?

did not watched

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street?

did not watched

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls?

did not watched

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo?

dori as far as i remember

87. First person you talked to today?

no one

88. Last person you talked to today?

brother

89. Name a person you hate?

idk

90. Name a person you love?

ex gf

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?

idk i m hungry <.<

92. In a fight with someone?

93. How many sweatpants do you have?

i never counted them

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?

5 or 4

95. Last movie you watched?

it was a good one but forgot the name

96. Favourite actress?

97. Favourite actor?

98. Do you tan a lot?

99. Have any pets?

not yet maybe i will buy a mantis

100. How are you feeling?

i feel okay

101. Do you type fast?

102. Do you regret anything from your past?

a lot

103. Can you spell well?

nope

104. Do you miss anyone from your past?

yes

105. Ever been to a bonfire party?

kinda yeah

106. Ever broken someone’s heart?

hm i think yeah

107. Have you ever been on a horse?

yes it died

108. What should you be doing?

idk

109. Is something irritating you right now?

why i feel sad right now

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?

idk

111. Do you have trust issues?

yeah

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of?

113. What was your childhood nickname?

thats a secret

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state?

yeah

115. Do you play the Wii?

no but i played it and i liked it

116. Are you listening to music right now?

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup?

never ate it

118. Do you like Chinese food?

never ate it

119. Favourite book?

actually i have many books i like

120. Are you afraid of the dark?

yeah

121. Are you mean?

sometimes

122. Is cheating ever okay?

no but hot

123. Can you keep white shoes clean?

i never had white shoes

124. Do you believe in love at first sight?

yes

125. Do you believe in true love?

yes

126. Are you currently bored?

yes

127. What makes you happy?

idk beeing busy.

128. Would you change your name?

129. What your zodiac sign?

virgin

130. Do you like subway?

not that much

131. Your bestfriend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

suck his dick

132. Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

hm idk

133. Favourite lyrics right now?

have no right now

134. Can you count to one million?

nevver tied but i think i could

135. Dumbest lie you ever told?

have no idea

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?

closed

137. How tall are you?

1.90 cm

138. Curly or Straight hair?

curly

139. Brunette or Blonde?

brunette

140. Summer or Winter?

autumn

141. Night or Day?

morning

142. Favourite month?

idk maybe april

143. Are you a vegetarian?

no i llove meat

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate?

white chocoate *hearteyes*

145. Tea or Coffee?

tea

146. Was today a good day?

kinda

147. Mars or Snickers?

sniggers

148. What’s your favourite quote?

go big or go home

149. Do you believe in ghosts?

just if i am afraid

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?

“German” Woman!

1 note · View note

marigoldhotel · 5 years

Text

Flirt Coby Brock Fanfiction

Flirt Colby Brock Fanfiction

Part 2

Colby Brock

c.b

word counter: 3,021

(marigoldhotel)

Synopsis: After Jake tells Colby he doesn’t have feelings for Y/N, things start to change.

It had been a few weeks since that night occurred. Colby would constantly play it back in his mind. The way Jake coolly told him he wasn’t interested in you. The way Colby tucked you in and kissed your forehead sweetly. The way he felt knowing he actually had a shot. It was almost as if that single night was burned into his head forever. He told Sam about what Jake had said, hoping for advice. He was met with the same response he always received.

“Just talk to her, dude.” Sam said, sitting in his room editing for a new YouTube video he was due to post.

“Okay but, what am I supposed to say?” Colby asked, pacing. “I don’t want to make an ass out myself.”

“Dude, you’re just over thinking this. It’s a simple conversation. You tell her how you feel, and you ask her how she feels. That’s it.” Sam rolled his eyes, pushing his blonde hair away from his face.

Colby kept pacing. It had been eating at him for a while. He wouldn’t say it was the only thing he thought about, but it did take a big part of his mind. He wanted to get over it already, to tell you and to get a response and be done with it, but when he saw you, his head went blank and he could only think about how cute you were. He told you it too. That had changed. He flirted with you more openly.

“You look so beautiful in that dress.” He commented one day while you were filming with Jake. Your cheeks turned pink when he said it. Jake stared at the both of you, and smirked. You hadn’t given him a response then. He kept trying.

“I think you shine brighter than the sun.” He said another time while the group had gone out to the beach. You laid next to him tanning, and he couldn’t help but stare at how undeniably gorgeous you looked in that bikini you had recently bought. You blushed even harder that time.

“Might want to get your eyes checked if that’s the case.” You responded, your voice teasing. He laughed, and the group was rooting for the both of you on the side lines. Colby took whatever chance he could get to mention how absolutely beautiful you were. You had to admit you loved when he complimented you. It made your heart race, your nerves run on end. You, in turn, became more touchy with him. You would hold his hand more often than not, twirling his rings in your hands, your head on his chest. Colby noticed you stopped flirting with Jake as much. You figured that the way Colby flirted showed you actually had a shot. The stars maybe were aligning in your favor.

“Dude, stop pacing, you’re going to break a hole in the damn floor.” Jake spoke up, standing in the hallway. Colby stopped in his tracks, groaning.

“Sorry man, I’m just over thinking I guess.”

“Your girlfriend is downstairs.” Jake said, rolling his eyes as he walked into his room. Colby ran his fingers through his hair, his heart skipping a beat. It was crazy how much he liked you. He had never felt this way about anyone.

“Have fun.” Sam said, bringing him out of his thoughts. Colby rolled his eyes and made his way downstairs. There you were, sitting on the countertop as you watched Aaron cook his egg whites. Your legs were hanging from the side, your sneakers bumping against the side of the counter.

“That looks good.” You commented, grabbing the hot sauce bottle Aaron had left out for his meal.

“I know something that definitely looks good.” Colby spoke up, and you looked over your shoulder, laughing lightly. You put the hot sauce down.

“Really? Because I see something that looks even better than good.” You retaliated, looking him up and down, biting your lip. Aaron fake gagged.

“Jesus, get a room.” He said, turning the pan off. You both laughed, and you slid off the countertop.

“Can’t take the heat, get out of the kitchen.” You shrugged. Colby snorted, and you sneaked a small glance at him, admiring him secretly.

“You’re here early. You usually come after noon.” Colby stated, admiring the way you looked in your outfit.

“Well, I couldn’t today!. I’m on official business.” You stated, trying your best to sound formal. Colby laughed, and neither of you had noticed that Aaron had left the room.

“Official business? Like what?”

“I’m going to film with Jake for YouTube. We are going to the craft store to buy paint and we are going to take best friend quizzes. If we get a question wrong, the other person gets to paint the person who got the question wrong. Whoever wins at the end gets free food.” You smiled, your hands fiddling with the hem of your white shirt.

“Hm...” Colby mumbled, looking up at the ceiling.

“What?” You asked curiously.

“If you really just want free food, I’ll take you out. No paint needed.” Colby smirked, and you laughed. Jake bounded downstairs, finding you both in the kitchen.

“Ready to go, Y/N?” He asked. You nodded, and Colby cursed Jake in his mind.

“Maybe I’ll take you up on your offer some other time.” Y/N winked, and made her way out. Colby watched her leave. Jake followed behind, looking back to give Colby a thumbs up. The door closed distantly, and Colby was more than excited. He technically got a date with the girl of his dreams whether official or not. It had to be a sign.

“Nice one dude.” Aaron said, putting his plate back in the sink.

“Progress, I guess.”

A few days had passed after that, and you had decided to take him up on his offer. It was the crack of dawn when you had called him. He answered, and you could hear the sleepy sigh through the screen.

“Colby.” You whispered, your nails rapping against the headboard of your bed. You had to admit, you were up pretty late. It was unlike you to be up at this time. But you couldn’t stop thinking about the way he had asked you to go out and eat with him. You wondered if he had really meant it, or if he was just toying with you.

“Hey beautiful, he whispered back, his voice raspy and thick with sleep. It sent shivers down your back.

“Remember when you said you would take me out to eat? ‘No paint needed.’” You quoted him, and you could hear him laugh softly.

“Something like that.” He responded, shuffling in his bed. He checked his clock. It was a little over 5 in the morning.He hadn’t slept very much, but it was fine if it meant talking to you. “Where do you want to go? And when?”

“McDonalds. Now?” You asked, chewing on your bottom lip mindlessly.

“Now?” He asked, even though he was already slipping on a pair of shoes.

“Could we?” You asked, sitting up. Colby agreed, and you both rushed to get ready. He was at your house in 20 minutes. You laughed, the both of you looking a mess.

“Nice shirt.” You teased, getting into the passenger side. He rolled his eyes, and you closed your door behind you.

“I like your unicorn pants. Very cute.” He retaliated, and you snorted, putting your head on his shoulder. He looked down, smiling softly. He geared his car and you both drove into the night, listening to whatever was on the radio, yelling along to the lyrics. Colby drove to the farthest McDonald’s he knew, just to spend more time with you. You guys ordered way too much food, and had the music on way too loud. It was perfect, you both thought to yourselves.

“You want to know something?” You said, turning to him, hamburger in your hand. He looked at you, grabbing a box of fries from the huge McDonald's bag.

“Yeah.” He responded, turning the blaring music off. You looked at him, his big bright blue eyes captivating you. You almost told him you loved him. You almost spilled your heart to him right there and then. But something caught in your throat, and you couldn’t.

“I think tonight might be the best moment I’ve ever had with anyone.” You said instead. He grinned at you, and your heart melted.

“I think any moment with you is the best moment.” He spoke, shifting himself in his seat. He was closer to you, and you could feel his cool breath on your skin. You shivered.

“Really?” You asked, your eyes drinking in his perfect face and you couldn’t help but notice how beautiful he looked under the fluorescent lights of the store near you. He nodded, his tongue running over his bottom lip. He neared closer to you. He almost kissed you. You were waiting for it eagerly. He was so close to pulling you closer and sealing the deal. But he held himself back. He pulled a loose strand of hair to the back of your ear and instead pulled away. The both of you were breathing hard. Your cheeks turned red, and you looked away, embarrassed. Then, an awkward silence draped over the atmosphere of the old car. You both ate in silence. He cursed at himself for missing the opportunity. You sighed, the fantasies that had been playing in your head washing out. You decided he probably only liked you as a friend. All of the flirting and the teasing was only a game. You felt so disappointed in yourself for thinking it could’ve been more. It was so quiet, you both noticed.The only words either of you spoke up after that was goodbye. He had driven you home in silence. No music, no speaking. You smiled at him weakly as you closed the door behind you, making your way up to your lonely apartment. He watched you leave, wanting to yell out to you and ask you to stay, but he was too afraid. Whatever progress he had made with you in the course of the past few weeks was completely lost. You went back to flirting with your other friends, and you and Colby went back to the rhythm that he hated. The constant staring at each other and not speaking. You hated flirting with everyone else. You didn’t feel the rush you used to. Not when you had an exhilarating moment a few days ago. Neither of you had talked about it since then. But it didn’t matter. Everyone noticed the shift in dynamic, but no one said anything.

“Did you pack the beach towels?” Sam yelled across the room, and you watched as the house was getting ready for the excursion. You had come extra early, beach ball and towel in hand. You loved going to the beach, mostly because it was with your friends.

“I think we’re ready dude.” Colby rolled his eyes, walking downstairs. “Anything else and we won’t have space in the cars to actually get to the beach.” Jake walked in behind him, carrying a huge float with him. You laughed, and got up to help him.

“A swan?” You smirked, and he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, dude. Swans are tight.”

“Definitely not.”

“Whatever, you don’t know the power of this floatie.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. You’re too cute.” You snorted, trying your best to shove the floatie in the back of Jake's car. Colby watched you, grumbling. He got in his car, and the rest shortly followed suit. You jumped into Jake's passenger seat, and played the most obnoxious music known to man. Jake got serious all of a sudden, turning the music low. You pouted, your head leaning on the glass.

“What is going on with you and Colby?” Jake asked, rolling the windows down to let the cool air flow. You looked at him at a sideways glance, and shrugged.

“We are just friends. Nothing is ‘going in’.” And you laughed, but you knew that he wasn’t buying it.

“We all know you’re both in love with each other. A few days ago you couldn’t keep your hands off him, and now you don’t even look him in the eye.”

“I flirt with everyone.”

“But you only got that twinkle in your eye for him. What happened?” He looked at you, the traffic now coming into full view. You definitely had no escape from this. You sighed, recounting that night.

“I thought I did have a chance. It was perfect. He looked so... angelic. And he was there. And he leaned closer and I thought he was going to kiss me. But he didn’t. “ Jake got quiet, his hands on the wheel. “I thought he liked me, but I guess not.”

“Just because he didn’t kiss you does not mean he doesn’t like you.” Jake stated. It frustrated you how nonchalant he was being about it. As if he knew he was right.

“He has the opportunity to kiss me, and he didn’t. That shows that he is definitely not interested in me.”

“Have you asked him?”

“No. We haven’t talked since that night.”

“You two haven’t talked at all. You guys could have a real shot if you both weren’t such pussies.” You glared, putting the music up.

“Can’t hear you!! I’m listening to this amazing song!” You yelled, clearly annoyed. He rolled his eyes, lowering it down again.

“You can deny it but you know I’m right. You’re going to lose someone you love because you’re too scared of getting rejected. And he is too. You both are annoying, dude.” He chastised you, and you sighed.

“You’re in a good mood today.”

“ I am. I just wished you would let Colby know how you feel. It’s depressing seeing you two stare at each other like kicked puppies.” His voice softened, and he cracked a smile at you. You couldn’t help but smile back. A few cars behind, Colby was driving, thinking about it too.

“I should’ve kissed her, man.” Colby groaned, his eyes facing forward. Kat was in the back, and Sam was next to him. He was swapping through the channels mindlessly.

“It’s not even that. If you would just tell her how you felt instead of wishing she magically knew, then things wouldn’t be so tense.” Sam said, and Kat agreed.

“She likes you. I think maybe even loves you.”

“She keeps flirting with everyone though, it’s hard to tell what she’s thinking.”

“She wasn’t flirting with anyone else when you guys were sort of flirting with each other. “ Kat reminded him, and he shrugged.

“What if it’s too late? She’s back to being putty in Jake’s hands. It’s annoying.”

“She’s flirting with everyone else except for you because she probably thinks you’re not interested in her. “Kat replied “They’re only friends.”

“She also only looks at you. Constantly.”

“I guess...” Colby sighed, turning towards the direction of the beach.

“You need to talk to her. This time it’s serious. You don’t want to lose your chance right?” Colby shook his head. He knew they were both right, but he didn’t admit it. The conversation changed around him, but he stayed quiet in his seat. In your car, the mood has lightened and you were singing and laughing with your best friend, and you had to admit you felt a little better. An hour later, you were all settled on a comfortable spot on the beach. Towels were laid out, and everyone was relaxing. It was hot but not completely unbearable, and the water was clear as a crystal. You were out in the water, looking for seashells seashells to take home. Colby saw this and furrowed his eyebrows. He thought for a while, as he usually did. He knew that everyone was right. If he let himself make excuses, he would lose you. It was now or never. He shouldn’t be afraid of this, not when he had done so many dangerous things in the past. He made up his mind, standing up.

“Where are you going?” Sam asked, sitting on one of the lounge chairs.

“I’m going to do it.” He said, and walked towards the direction of the water. They guys looked at each other, and Jake smirked.

“Ten bucks they’re not gonna keep their hands off each other for the rest of the night.” He spoke up, and they all laughed. Colby ran towards you, sneaking behind you. You were looking down at the water, your toes wiggling in the sand.

“Boo.” Colby snuck behind you, and you jumped a bit in your spot. You looked behind you and pouted, splashing him with water.

“Jesus Colbs. You scared me...” you whined, and he laughed, his fingers running through his hair.

“I wanted to talk to you.” Colbs admitted, and your heart started to pump faster. You looked out to the ocean, biting your lip.

“About what?” You asked, and he grabbed your hand.

“About that night....”

“I know what you’re going to say, Colby.”

“You don’t. We are both running around the problem because we don’t want to actually face it.”

“What is there to face? You don’t like me. We are just friends.” You shrugged, and Colby groaned in frustration.

“I do like you! I really like you. You’re beautiful, and I can’t get your smile off of my mind.” He spoke up, and your eyes widened.

“What?”

“I want nothing more than to go back to that night. I wanted to kiss you. But I held myself back. I was afraid it wasn’t what you wanted.” He admitted, and now his heart was racing with yours, the both of you staring into each other’s eyes.

“You-.” You paused, and you couldn’t help but laugh. He stared at you, confused. “Jake was right.”

“Right?”

“Colby. You’re the one thing that’s always constant in my mind. I like you too. Really like you. I do.” You smiled, and he pulled you closer, kissing your forehead sweetly. You looked up to him, and your lips interlocked. His hands snaked to your hips, and your arms wrapped around his neck, grinning like an idiot. You could hear loud yells from the sand, and you could see Jake running around in circles.

“Fucking finally!” He yelled, and all your friends yelled. You laughed, and Colby laughed with you.

That was a night you would never forget.

THE END

A/N: There you go! Part two has been posted! I hope you like it. It made me so soft omg I love this imagine Sm it’s so cute. Anyways, send me requests! I love hearing from you guys. Love you 😘

129 notes · View notes

let-it-raines · 5 years

Note

Yo yo yo. I need Killian's POV for the break-up prompt!!!!

Original prompt: "You talk about me in your new song and I get mad over it, so I’m standing outside your apartment door to argue, only to see you open the door half naked.”

You can find Emma’s POV | Here | but it’s not necessary to understand what’s happening here!

Tagging some peeps who liked the first part: @wellhellotragic @effulgentcolors @resident-of-storybrooke @darkcolinodonorgasm @thejollyroger-writer @kmomof4 @snowbellewells @jennjenn615 @bmbbcs4evr @lfh1962 @onceuponaprincessworld @qualitycoffeethings @branlovestowrite @that1fangirlsblog @badwolfandtimelords @bengalaas @captswanis4vr @mayquita

He drops his keys in the bowl on the entryway table, hearing them clank against the porcelain as they’re the only thing in the dish. There used to be another set of keys there, metal that would hit against his, but they’re not there anymore.

She’s not here anymore.

Pushing down whatever is lodged in his throat, he gulps and moves on. He thinks about her when he puts his keys in a bowl. It’s ridiculous. She should not be able to invade his memories like that. She should not still be so prevalent.

She left. She’s not here.

So why does he still feel her everywhere?

She’s in the way that there’s a scuff mark on the wall outside of their…his bedroom. Her heel had hit against the wall on the night that he signed his record deal. They’d been so happy and so incredibly intoxicated, stumbling into the apartment with smiles on their lips that they couldn’t seem to part. He’d tried to press her up against the wall to trail his lips across her jaw, but her ankle had twisted and her heel and jammed into the paint, making the gray chip off and turn into white.

That had been a good night. He doesn’t think they even made it into the bedroom.

She’s there in the way that she didn’t bother taking any of the throw pillows on the couch when she…left. She’d been the one to insist that they buy them, to drag (not that he minded) him into every home goods store in Maine for multiple days until they found the right pillows.

“It changes a room, babe. And the apartment is so stuffy. It needs color.”

He once almost packed up the pillows in a box and shipped them to her, but then he would have had to ask for her new address. Asking for her new address made it seem all too real. If she has a different address than him, that means she’s not here, that she’s not coming back.

Some days he convinces himself that she’s going to come back.

But he knows Emma. He knows how she works. She’s not going to come back unless something pushes her. She’s stubborn like that.

Besides, why would she come back when he was the one who pushed her away?

He was the one who left to go on tour, knowing how Emma feels about people leaving her. He knows her past, knows the people who have left her before, and even if he wasn’t leaving her, he was still leaving.

But she hadn’t begrudged him for it. She had encouraged him, supported him every step of the way. It was supposed to be better. It was supposed to be his dream.

They were supposed to be fine.

They weren’t supposed to fall apart.

But there were the interrupted FaceTimes and completely missed calls. Trips home were cancelled. Trips out to see him were never made. Somewhere along the way they stopped being them, they stopped fighting for each other, and that’s why when he puts his keys in their bowl, they’re alone.

It’s why he’s alone.

“God,” he groans to himself, running his hand through his hair and tugging at the strands, knowing he should cut his hair soon before it blocks his eyesight. “Get it together, man.”

He’s having to tell himself to get it together. He’s talking to himself, and it’s not the first time he’s done that lately.

It’s also not the first time he’s poured himself a glass of rum before five, not caring about social norms or early hangovers, so he doesn’t care while the alcohol burns as it runs down his throat. His tolerance is higher than he’s willing to admit, but he only has the one drink.

It’s always one. Never more.

He wants to drown out his thoughts for a moment, but he doesn’t want to drown them out completely, drown her out completely. Simply temporarily.

After he finishes his drink, he heads to his (their) room and immediately makes his way into the bathroom, turning on the shower so he can wash away this day and all of the thoughts that have been consuming him.

All of the thoughts of Emma.

Temporarily.

He doesn’t usually take hot showers, ones where the water scalds his skin, but if he’s going to be dramatic today, he might as well be dramatic in every sense of the word. Besides, it feels good. It makes him feel something other than what he’s been feeling today.

Not every day is like today. In fact, most of them are good. Or as good as they can be. He’s got a job that he loves despite all of the pain that it’s brought him. He’s got friends, good ones, even if he knows they have a difficult time hanging out with him and not talking about Emma.

That’s one of the things about dating someone for nearly half a decade. Their entire life can meld into yours. Her friends become his. His friends become hers. There was no separation between the two of them.

Until there was.

But he still has his life. He still has people who make him happy, things that make him happy.

He just misses her. That’s all.

It’s as simple as that.

He misses the bloody love of his life, and he wishes that he could turn back time, could make things right before they went wrong.

When his skin starts to pink, he turns the water off, getting out of the shower and drying his body off before wrapping his towel around his hips, the words of his tattoo peeking out over the white material.

“What does this mean?” Emma asks, tracing the ink with her nails, every touch setting him aflame.

“Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.”

“I know what it says, weirdo,” she laughs, the sound echoing throughout her apartment. It’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard, and he’s spent his entire life listening to beautiful sounds, beautiful music. “But what does it mean? To you?”

“Ah,” he sighs, reaching down and pushing the strands of her hair that are falling in her face behind her ears, “well that’s an entirely different story, love.”“Will you tell me?”

“Aye, of course.” Her fingers continue to trace the words, running over the pretty cursive. “My brother – ”

“Liam, right?”

He tightly smiles at her, the wounds of his loss still fresh after all of these years. “Yeah, love. Liam. I used to be pretty uptight while in school, always worried that I wasn’t doing enough, being enough. So when I’d fail an assignment – “

“Which was really like getting a B, right?”

“Hush,” he laughs, reaching down and flicking her ear only for her to grab his wrist and kiss his palm, her lips soft against his skin. “So when I’d fail an assignment, when I’d struggle with my music, with anything, Liam would tell me that it’s okay to fail. That it’s a part of life, and often we become better for our failures. So when I ran across the quote a few weeks after he…after, I decided to get it inked on my skin as a permanent reminder of him and how important he is to me.”

He doesn’t know what he expects Emma to say, what her response should be. They’ve only been dating for a few weeks, and that was probably too much. But she asked.

If she asks him, he’ll tell her the truth. Always.

That’s the promise he can make to her.

Instead of speaking, Emma crawls up the mattress and plants her knees on either side of his hips, settling herself on his lap while her hands card into his hair, scratching at his scalp. Her lips slide over his, stealing his breath away. He’s never felt a kiss like this, never felt so much emotion in the movement of another mouth on his, but it’s like she’s trying to pour the words she doesn’t have into the kiss.

And it’s working.

He may be the one out of the two of them who works in words, who tries to make them pretty when they’re not, but Emma’s able to convey so much with so little.

He’s halfway in love with her, and he could tip over and be all in at any time, with any movement.

That might have been the movement.

Shaking his head, he brings himself out of the memory and tugs his towel up before pushing his hair off of his face. He’s about to dry his hair when there’s a knock on his door, a banging really. It sounds angry, hard, and he huffs as he makes his way out into the hallway, ready to yell at whoever is knocking on his door like they’d like to knock it down.

But then he opens it without looking through the peephole, which is either his worst mistake or greatest decision, because standing in front of him with red eyes and windblown hair is the love of his life.

The one he hasn’t seen in five months.

Three if he counts the time he saw her getting coffee at their old shop, but it was just a flash of blonde hair, a glimpse of a red jacket.

Emma.

Fuck.

He was not prepared for this. Nothing could have ever prepared him for this no matter how many times he wished for her to show up again.

He doesn’t even know that he’s clenching his fist and grinding his teeth until his hand starts to hurt and his head starts to ache. Maybe his heart too.

Bloody hell. It’s a good thing he writes songs for a living, that he has an excuse for why he thinks like this. Otherwise his thoughts would be that of a teenager having a crush for the first time.

(He’s thirty-two years old.)

Why is she here?

“What are you doing here, Swan?” he grits out, trying to control his emotions and knowing that he’s failing.

Something shifts in her face, the wide doe eyes and timid smile transforming into green slits and a scowl. It’s the look he got every time he did something to piss her off, and he prepares himself for the blowback, knowing that it’s coming.

“How dare you write that song,” she spits, her voice rising and falling with each syllable. “You just put our life, my life out there for everyone to hear.”

Fuck.

The song. He forgot about the song. He forgot that it was being released today. He’s sure his manager has sent him a million emails about it, but he’s been avoiding his phone. He can’t…he wrote the song, recorded it in two tries, and then never listened to it again. It’s too hard, too much, and when his label told him he was legally obligated to release a new single, it was the only one that he had prepared.

The others stay unfinished.

He shouldn’t have released it though. He knows that he shouldn’t have, not with a broken heart, not with Emma still out in the world where she can hear it.

She obviously heard it.

“No one knows it’s about you.”

“I do,” she screams, her face turning red and her voice echoing throughout the hall, so different than the laughter that once resided here, “I know! Our friends know! Everybody goddamn knows! I’m driving down the road on my way home from work, trying to live my life, trying to move on, and I just have everything that I’m trying to forget thrown back in my face like that.”

Trying to move on.

She’s trying to move on.

“Love – ”

“Don’t call me that,” she cries, and he aches, his stomach painfully twisting within him. He could vomit, but he needs to hold it together, needs to let her yell. He did air out their private life, even if it is in metaphors. She deserves this much. “I am not your love. You’ve made that very clear.”

That almost makes his legs fall out from beneath him. He’s never not loved her. He’s always loved her. He will always love her. He’s never wanted her to be anything else.

“Swan,” he speaks, crossing his arms over his chest and trying to calm his breathing, “if you want to yell at me, come inside. I have neighbors, and I don’t think we want them witnessing this.”

She scoffs, her body showing all of the signs of her stubbornness, but she walks inside anyways, walks inside like she did thousands of times before, walks inside like she still belongs.

She does.

He gives himself a minute to control his breathing, to try to pull together his emotions, so he takes a few breaths in and out and fakes it as spending time locking the door before turning around. The sight of her standing in his (their) apartment nearly knocks all of the breath he just got back out of him, and he has to steady himself on the table, the lone keys shaking in their bowl.

When she turns around, he moves his hand, running it through his hair to push it back before rubbing his face, hoping the tension will go away.

“Why are you here?” he sighs, even though he knows. “The song? You’re mad about the song?”

“Of course I’m mad about the song. How could I not be? Have you heard it?”

“I wrote it. And in case you’ve forgotten, I have dozens of other songs about you, nearly every one of them on a record somewhere. You never seemed pissed about those then.”

“We weren’t broken up then.”“Well whose bloody fault is that? Because it’s not mine. I didn’t want to break up.”

Hot tears sting behind his eyes, his throat closing in on itself. He can’t do this. He can’t. He has to.

He finally said the words he’s been holding inside of him.

“You think I wanted to break up?” she screams, the volume and hoarseness of it taking him back a bit. “You think I wanted to be having breakdowns on the side of the road because I can’t handle reliving parts of our relationship. You think I wanted to be the girl who sat at home and cried every time you didn’t pick up the phone? Every time you had to go one minute into our conversation? Every time I went out with my friends and heard your voice on the speakers at a bar when I hadn’t actually heard your voice in days? You think I wanted that?”

He’s about to say something back, to yell every single feeling he’s felt for months now, but then Emma quickly falls to the ground, her back against the wall while her arms wrap around her knees, making her as small as possible. That’s exactly what she does when her emotions become too much, when she doesn’t have the words, and he chokes down his own sob.

He’s hurt, but seeing her hurting is the worst thing for him. He can hurt. He can be the one who’s sad, but not Emma. She should…she should be happy. All he wants is for her to be happy.

“Emma,” he sighs, trying to steady himself for her. When she doesn’t respond, he kneels down in front of her, knowing his towel isn’t going to hold up but not caring. “Emma, are you okay?”

She peeks her head up, her eyes soaked with tears while her shoulders shake. “Do you think I’m okay?”

“No.” Without hesitation he reaches and wipes away the tears. It’s something he’s always done. He doesn’t see why he should stop now, even as he feels a tear escape his own eye. “I’m sorry, lo – Swan. I’m sorry that you heard the song and that it hurt you.”

“Why’d you write it then? You had to know that I’d hear it eventually.”

“Because I hurt too. Music is how I deal with things. You know this. You’ve always known this. And how the hell else am I supposed to deal with my heartbreak?”

“By writing the damn song and then not putting it on the radio.”

He chuckles under his breath, not able to help himself. She always sees thing so simply, just as they are.

“I had to fulfill my contract. I had to release a new single.”

“Don’t you have another one? One that’s not about us?”

“No.”

Emma sighs, throwing her head back against the wall and tightly closing her eyes. He can tell that she hurts. He hurts. He aches, really. His entire body aches with pain.

He wishes that she hadn’t come here, that she hadn’t shown up.

But he doesn’t think he’d trade seeing her face for anything in the world.”“How long are you home?”“What?” he stutters, not expecting that question.

She finally opens her eyes again. They’re clearer than they’ve been all this time. “How long are you home this time? How long until you have to leave again?”

“A few weeks. I’ve got to go back and meet with the guys for a couple of days at the end of September.”

He doesn’t expect what happens next, but he should have. He’s kissed Emma more times than he can count, and he should have seen the signs of her getting ready to kiss him. But before he can process any of this, she’s sliding her lips over his in a demanding kiss that makes him feel like they never stopped this, like they were never apart. Her hands are in his hair immediately, tugging him closer, and his hands find her face, the smooth skin just as he remembered it.

It’s like coming home after being away for months at a time. If anyone knows how that feels, it’s him.

He hasn’t felt like he had a home in months.

For right now, despite the fact that he knows this is a relapse, that he knows this is likely a mistake, he’s going to let it feel like home. He’s going to find home in Emma.

He almost stops them, but then she’s pushing him onto the ground, his towel falling open while she straddles his hips, rolling her hips into his while he trusts up into her, their lips never parting. He has no control after that, not after experiencing how damn good she makes him feel, so he doesn’t stop them when they stumble into the bedroom.

He doesn’t want to stop them.

So he enjoys himself, enjoys the way that she feels exactly the same when he slides into her, enjoys the way that she makes the same little sounds when he nibbles at her ear, enjoys the way that she still does that thing where she traces the muscles of his back with her fingers when she’s falling apart at his touch.

He enjoys it all and wishes with every breath in him that he can somehow fix the brokenness. That they can fix the brokenness.

After they’re finished, they don’t talk for nearly thirty minutes. He expected Emma to leave the moment he pulled out of her, but she didn’t. She stayed. She stayed while he cleaned them up. She stayed to go to the restroom. She stayed to slip into her favorite of his sweaters. She stayed to cuddle with him afterwards, her cheek resting against his chest.

She stayed.

But just because she stayed doesn’t mean that things are okay. He knows this. He’s just having a difficult time admitting it. But he has to.

“Sex doesn’t solve our problems, Swan. You know that, right?”

“I know,” she says, tightening her arms around his chest. “I don’t…we shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t even still be here. I’m not sure what came over me, over us.”

“A hell of a lot of emotions.” He presses a kiss against her forehead, wanting more proof that she’s real, that this isn’t a dream. “We’ve got…there’s a lot left between us, love. There was never anything wrong between us, I don’t think. I just wasn’t there.”

He hates that he wasn’t there. He should have been there.

“That’s kind of what went wrong. You can’t be in a relationship without being there.”

He knows. He knows. He knows.

But they still work. They’re still them. If he’s around, they can still be them. That’s what he has to tell himself.

“But it’s not us. It was the distance, my job.”

“Which is your dream.”

“Aye, it was my dream,” he confirms softly, running his fingers through her hair and down her back. She’s real, she’s real, she’s real. “It is my dream. But I should have never let it come between us. You’ve been my life for half a decade. You have been there for absolutely everything, and I should have tried harder, should have done more.”

“I don’t think there was anything either of us could have done.”

She sounds broken, like she doesn’t want to be having this conversation. Or maybe she can’t be having it. Maybe this is all too hard. But he needs to talk to her. He needs to work things out. There’s no other way.

If she doesn’t want him back, she doesn’t. He can’t change that. He can’t force her into anything. But he can hope. There’s always hope.

He still loves her.

He’ll always love her.

“I could have made more time to call. I could have scheduled breaks between cities. I could have booked a flight for me, for you. I could have done so much to save us, to make you feel less alone.”

“Killian, this isn’t all on you.”

“No, no, it’s not,” he admits, knowing that their relationship wasn’t perfect, that there were other things to fix, “but I’ve had five months of living alone, even when I wasn’t here, to think about all of the things I could have changed.”

“Me too,” she sighs, lifting her head from his chest and untangling her legs before she moves to the other side of the bed, putting distance between them all the while he rubs his hand up and down his face trying to work out the stress lines. Why is she moving? Why is she putting space between them? “I don’t…I don’t know what to do.”

“I don’t either. Do you even want to try again? Or are we chalking this up to a one-time thing? To a fallback?”

He didn’t want to ask, but he had to. He has to know.

“I don’t want it to be that,” she answers, and his heart fills with hope. “But I can’t go back to how we were…what do you want?”

“You.”

That’s it. That’s all he wants. He just wants to be with her. No part of it is a lie.

Her eyes blow wide, her lips opening before quickly closing. “That’s all. You just want me?”

“Always, Emma” he promises, smiling despite himself, the hope growing even more. “But you’re right. We can’t…I can’t leave like that. I can’t do things just for me without considering you. And you can’t let me just do it and say that things are okay.”

“I kind of figured you knew things weren’t okay.”

He didn’t. He should have. But they can’t change the past. He knows that now.

“You’ve never lied to me, so I didn’t expect it then. I always believed the words that you said.”

“So what are we doing, Killian? What do we do?”

He shrugs, sitting up against the headboard. He won’t lie to her. He’ll tell her the truth. Always. “We try again. We make compromises. We do better. For ourselves. For each other. And maybe I don’t put a song out without letting you know.”She smiles, the first genuine smile without heartbreak hidden behind it for the first time today. It makes his heart absolutely soar with the hope that they can fix them. What’s that saying? Hope is the thing with feathers. Hope can fly.

“I’d like that.”

It’s not easy, but he didn’t expect it to be. They take things slowly, beginning things by just talking, by taking days to talk through their issues, to talk through all of the things that they’ve missed. It’s a lot of life to catch up on, but he and Emma have always worked. They understand each other, and they know when to push and to pull.

It’s just taking a bit of relearning.

But things do get better, and eventually they get back into the groove of things. There are more smiles than tears, and they go back to making each other laugh. They go back to being them.

He really likes making her laugh.

Their friends are thrilled if not a bit wary, but he reminds himself that this isn’t about their friends, it’s about them. The same goes with his bandmates when he tells them, when he has to after his lyrics become brighter, less melancholy. Some of them practically collapse in happiness that he won’t be “broody” anymore, but others ask him if he’s sure, if he really wants this.

He does.

Because at the end of the day, at the end of every day after awhile, he gets to come home and put his keys in a bowl that holds another set, the metal clanking together in a tune that’s sweeter than any music he can make.

Ever tried. Ever failed. No matter. Try again. Fail again. Fail better.

Love better.

#cs prompts #cs fic #cs ff

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redgillan · 6 years

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Missed Chances - part 2

Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary: 13 Going on 30!AU - Steve Rogers is crazy about you, but he’s afraid his feelings are only one sided and being one of your best friends, he doesn’t want to ruin your friendship… On his 13th birthday, he makes a wish and wakes up in the body of his 30 year old self. The problem is, you’re no longer a part of his life.

Word Count: 3,845

Warnings: Language, Nudity, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Drug Use, Cliffhanger

A/N: This is so long, I’m sorry. I tried to make the descriptions fun, but idk. I added a few pics bc it was too beautiful. It took me a while to write this chapter, but I had so much research to do for this fic... yikes. I really hope you’ll like this chapter, I worked so hard on it.

Missed Chances - Masterpage

Steve woke up with a migraine, the mattress soft beneath him. His mother must have carried him up and tucked him in while he was asleep because he sure as hell wasn’t lying on the basement floor.

Soft silky sheets brushed against his naked skin and his brows immediately furrowed. He always wore pyjamas.

He tried to sit up, but soon realised that there was a weight on his left shoulder. He looked down at it and saw a mop of tousled light brown hair resting on his chest.

A woman!

His first reaction was to roll to the other side of the bed where he ended up face-to-face with another woman. A strangled cry escaped his throat, making the two women whine in their sleep.

“Mornin, daddy,” the one on his left slurred, her hand trailing up his thigh.

“Did you just call me daddy?” he asked. His voice was so low, he must have caught a cold during his birthday party.

“Isn’t that what you want, daddy?” she whispered into his ear, her hand cupping his groin.

He shirked and scrambled off the bed, taking the silky sheet with him. The two naked women sat up, concerned looks on their faces.

“What’s wrong?”

“You’re naked!” Steve wrapped the sheet around his hips and gestured in their direction with his free hand.

Why did he feel like he was standing on a stepladder? His head was spinning, the room was spinning, too. He had to get out of here.

He looked around the darkened room and yelled, “MOM!”

A look of mild panic crossed the brunette’s face. She picked up her discarded dress and slipped it on. The second woman apparently had the same idea and together they quickly collected their things before they rushed out of the room.

“Wait!” Steve yelled, fumbling with the sheet as he tried to follow them.

He tripped over the trailing sheet and fell face-first onto the soft rug, accompanied by a muffled ‘oof A soft, vibrating sound made him raise his head and he watched in speechless awe as the natural light began to pour into the bedroom.

The room was large, yet simple. There was a King size bed facing floor-to-ceiling windows, offering one of the most impressive views of New York City Steve had ever seen.

Decorative pillows had been thrown to the foot of the bed. One of them even landed on a teardrop shaped settee near the door.

“Good morning, Mr Rogers,” said a sweet feminine voice with an Irish accent. Her voice seemed to come from the ceiling.

Startled, Steve sat on the floor and tugged the sheet around him while looking suspiciously around the room.

“The cook is in the elevator, he should be here any second,” the voice continued. “I’ll start the shower now. Would you like me to turn on some music?”

He had so many questions, but he couldn’t decide which one to ask first so he went with the most obvious one. “Where are you right now?”

The voice sighed. “As I’ve explained before, I’m F.R.I.D.A.Y, an artificial intelligence created by Stark Inc. I’m connected to all the devices around your apartments, including your personal and work phones and computers.”

He sat on the bed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes, trying to make sense of what happened. He cleared his throat, hoping to get rid of that ridiculously low voice.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I think you have the wrong Rogers. I don’t know how I ended up in this apartment, or in New York, but I’ll give you my mom’s numb-”

“I’ll ask the cook to add pain killers with your breakfast,” she cut him off, sounding amused. “Perhaps you should lay off the Norwegian liquor for awhile.”

Steve was scared to leave the room, not knowing what he’d find behind the door. He didn’t want to run into the owner, Mr Rogers.

As promised, F.R.I.D.A.Y turned on the shower and, remembering the two naked ladies in his bed, he figured he could use one.

He walked to the windows and marvelled at the view for a moment. He lived in Port Chester and rarely visited the city. On second thought, it wasn’t so bad. At least now he had a funny story to tell Bucky.

He followed the sound of running water and opened the door that led to the bathroom.

The bathroom was equally luxurious with its inlaid stone rain shower that could easily fit eight people. There was also a long vanity with double sinks and a mirror facing the shower.

Mouth agape, Steve let the sheet drop and padded to the shower.

As he passed the mirror, he caught a glimpse of a naked man and threw himself to the floor. He slowly peeked over the vanity, an excuse ready on his lips, but he realized it was just a mirror.

Frowning, he lifted his head a little and let out a small gasp as he stared at himself in the mirror.

“Oh, my god,” he swore, straightened up to his full height, “It’s me, I’m... hot!”

He didn’t look sickly anymore; he was strong and muscular and at least a foot taller. His hair was a darker shade of blond and slightly longer, too. He had a full beard and stared at it for a full minute. He’d always wondered if he’d ever grow facial hair.

“What’s happening?” he said, staring at his reflection.

He ran a hand through his hair, combing it back from his forehead. His hair seemed to naturally fall back into place, like he’d done this gesture so many times that his hair knew exactly where to go.

Yesterday was his thirteenth birthday party and today he woke up looking like a thirty-year-old man. How was it possible?

Oh, the birthday party....

I want to be an adult. I want to be thirty, I want to find love.

“No,” Steve drawled out, disbelief lacing his voice. “That’s so cool!”

It seemed completely crazy, but there was no other explanation.

He took a step back and checked himself out in the mirror. His body was, for lack of a better word, impressive. Wide shoulders, broad chest, tiny waist, massive arms and thighs...

“Tattoos?” he whined, inspecting his body closely. He had one on his left shoulder, a quote under his clavicle and another one on the right side of his chest. “Mom’s gonna kill me!”

The shower was already running, the steam fogging up the mirror. He stepped into the shower, his eyes focused on his blurry reflection.

Showering was a strange experience. He ran his hands over the hard planes of his broad chest and tight abs, discovering this new body more intimately.

His breathing hitched and he felt himself growing hard. Chancing a glance down, he saw the evidence of his arousal sticking up straight from his body. Then, suddenly, the water turned ice cold and he hurriedly leapt out of the shower stall.

“What the hell?”

“You always end your morning shower with a blast of cold water,” the A.I replied. “It increases alertness and closes up the pores.”

“Yeah? Let’s not do that again.”

“Very well, sir.”

“You can call me Steve,” he said, wrapping himself in a fluffy towel. “So, um, I live here?”

“Yes, Steve, 45 East 22nd Street, apartment 60FL. Is there anything else you need?”

“Clothes?” he replied with a shy grimace.

Following F.R.I.D.A.Y’s direction, he took a deep breath before he opened the bedroom door. He was scared to run into someone, even though the A.I. had informed him that it was just him and the cook.

He entered the walk-in closet tentatively and gasped when F.R.I.D.A.Y. turned on the lights. It was twice the size of his bedroom, with a round sofa in the middle of the room and a small staircase that led to another closet with mirrored sliding doors.

Suits, shirts, trousers, jeans, shoes; there were enough items for him to open his own store. He took his time and tried on several outfits before he found the perfect one.

“Steve,” the A.I. interrupted, “Your morning coffee has just finished brewing. Breakfast is served. I should also remind you that Mr Rumlow will be expecting you in the hall at 8 a.m.”

“Brock?” Steve squealed, suddenly excited to see a familiar face. “I’m still friends with Brock! That’s awesome!”

“Indeed, it is,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. replied in a monotonous voice. “Are you sober enough to find the dining room?”

He bashfully told her he had no idea where the dining room was and she provided directions again. She sounded like a real person: annoyed, sassy, amused... It was strange to think she was just a voice in the wall.

What Steve had seen so far was nothing compared to the living-slash-dining room. It looked like a page out of a magazine.

There was a large and modern dining room table for formal meals that led to a windowed eat-in kitchen with marble countertops and custom-designed cabinetry.

The living room was spacious and bright, decorated with modern artworks and furnishings. Thanks to the floor-to-ceiling windows, he had a 360-degree view of New York City, looking over the borough of Brooklyn.

“I could get used to that,” Steve whispered to himself.

He sat at the breakfast nook and glared at the tray of food in front of him. His breakfast consisted of a green concoction in a tall glass, a slice of grapefruit and a bowl of sliced bananas in plain yogurt. He poked the grapefruit with his spoon and screwed his face up in disgust.

“Um, ma’am,” he spoke, looking up at the ceiling. “Do you have cereal?”

“You cut out sugar from your diet,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. replied.

“That sucks!”

He ate a few spoonfuls of yogurt before he pushed the tray away. It was almost time to meet Brock downstairs so he took the elevator down to the lobby, excited to see his friend.

“What the fuck are you wearing?” a voice startled him as he stepped into the lobby.

A man, most likely in his thirties, stared down at him, incredulous. His black hair was short and styled with gel and he wore a perfectly tailored beige suit with no tie.

Steve looked down at his own clothes and frowned. He was wearing a pair of jeans with a matching jacket and a light blue shirt.

He really liked this look and it was really popular, especially after the American Music Award where Justin Timberlake and Britney Spears showed up wearing matching denim outfits.

“Denim-on-denim?” Brock said with a smirk. “Trying to bring sexy back?”

Steve cocked his head to one side. Was that a reference to something? He had no idea. “Brock? That’s really you? Whoa, you’re old!”

Rolling his eyes, Brock turned on his heel. “Fuck off, Rogers.”

Brock was on his phone when the doorman opened the door for him. Steve trailed after Brock like a lost puppy and greeted the man at the door with a polite smile. The man looked at him incredulously before his face broke into a similar friendly smile.

“Where are we going?” Steve asked as they walked to the car parked in front of the building.

“Work, dude.”

“We work together?” Steve said excitedly. “That’s awesome! Okay, what do we do?”

Brock threw him a side glance. “I knew I should have stayed last night. The party must have been wild, you look so stoned. What’d take? Cocaine? Heroin? Meth?”

“What?! No, I don’t do drugs,” Steve objected.

“Yeah, right,” Brock scoffed, “me neither.”

It only took fifteen minutes to go from his apartment to his workplace in the garment district of Manhattan. Steve looked out the tinted window as the chauffeur pulled to the curb before a large mirrored-glass building.

His bodyguard opened the door and Steve slowly climbed out of the car, his eyes widening when he saw a plaque above the double doors that read ‘STEVE ROGERS HEADQUARTERS NYC’.

“Nice outfit, sir,” his bodyguard said, a smile lifting the corners of his mouth.

“Thanks,” Steve replied, still flabbergasted.

Brock rounded the vehicle and pulled Steve aside. When Steve continued to look around in wonder, Brock grabbed his shoulders and shook him once.

“Man, you gotta pull yourself together,” he whisper-shouted. “You’re a fucking fashion designer. You can’t enter this building looking like Justin fucking Timberlake on Prozac.”

Brock glanced around to make sure no one was listening and spotted paparazzi on the opposite side of the road. He moved in front of Steve to block their view.

“Here’s what you gonna do,” he continued. “You’re going to enter this building, drink a large fucking coffee and lock yourself in your office. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of everything, but you owe me big fucking time.”

Steve gave him a hard look. “You say the F-word like a lot.”

Brock sighed, his eyes never leaving Steve’s face. “Man, I don’t know what you took, but next time I want in.” He pulled him into a hug and patted his back. “Stay hydrated, ‘k?”

They entered the building together. There were a lot of people in the atrium; tall, skinny models who turned their heads when they recognized Steve and employees who watched him with a mixture of fright and admiration.

They seemed to move out of his way like he was Moses parting the Red Sea. Steve was too speechless and confused to focus on them. They took the private elevator and stood in silence while the elevator made its long ascent.

“I’m a fashion designer,” Steve spoke quietly, mostly to himself.

“Yup,” Brock mumbled as he pulled out his phone and started typing a text message. “Time’s person of the year in 2012 and 2017, youngest billionaire in the world and the wet of every boys and girls on this fucking planet.”

“I must be dreaming,” Steve said slowly as he processed what Brock had just said. “Ow!” he cried when he pinched the tender skin on his neck.

“Not dreaming,” he said, “now let’s go.”

Brock walked over to a woman with long golden hair. He leaned in and whispered something into her ear. She gave him a thumbs-up and turned to Steve with a bright smile.

“Oh, my God,” Steve cringed, looking for a place to hide. His employees were busy looking busy and didn’t pay attention to them.

Brock and the woman walked back to him. “Wanda’s gonna take care of you.”

Steve took Brock aside and explained that he woke up next to this Wanda girl just a few hours ago. Brock laughed and called Steve a ‘fucking stereotype’ before he headed toward his own office. Steve turned back to Wanda with an apologetic smile.

“Sorry about earlier,” he said. “So, um, who are you again?”

“Wanda Maximoff, your assistant for the past two years,” she replied with a frown. “You really scared us this morning. Mr Rumlow said you weren’t feeling well.”

Steve replied with a casual shrug while she led him to his office. She informed him that Brock had already transferred the files he needed for the meetings and that he was free for the rest of the day.

“Clint will drive you home when you’re ready, sir.”

“Ok, cool,” he replied.

Involuntarily, she let out a loud laugh as the words passed his lips. He was always so professional and stern, definitely not the kind of boss who treated their employees like family members.

But when he was not at work, he was completely different.

Wanda had run into him in a very select bar the night before. He had danced with her, offered her fruity cocktails and she had really liked the attention. When he invited her and her friend over to his apartment, they eagerly accepted the invitation.

“Oh, by the way,” she turned back to him and handed him his personal phone, “I took your phone by mistake this morning.”

“Oh.” He looked down at the rectangular device in his hand.

She left the room, closing the double doors behind her. Steve plopped down on one of the sofas in his office and took a good look around the room. One thing was for sure, his 30 year-old self was a materialistic person.

His office was a mess, which was strange since his apartment was absolutely spotless.

There were mannequins everywhere, sketches and pieces of fabric clipped onto wooden boards for future reference. He also had a large collection of fashion magazines, sharpies, pencils, erasers, rulers and sketch pads.

He sat in the comfortable leather chair at his desk and flipped through various files. He soon realized that work was his whole life and that he probably spent more time in his office than at home.

Steve loved to draw; it was his safe place. His mother didn’t make enough money to buy him GI Joe dolls or remote controlled cars, but she always came home with pens and scraps of paper stuffed in her bag.

He was looking at some of his drawings when an alarm on his phone went off. He had never owned a phone before, but Bucky’s mother had one –a Nokia 3310- and it didn’t look like this one at all. He managed to turn the alarm off and read the reminder.

Chez Francis, 8PM

The computer on his desk was a lot thinner than what he used to use at the public library, but he recognized the Apple logo. He was relieved to see that Google was still a thing and after a quick search, he found the restaurant located in Greenwich Village.

Since he was technically allowed to leave, he asked his chauffeur-slash-bodyguard to drive him home. Clint was a quiet guy. He seemed nice, though a bit on the scary side.

Steve learned that he owned ten apartments in the tower; the penthouse, the first five floors, which were for his employees, and four others for his guests.

Like Uncle Scrooge, Steve was swimming in money.

But something was missing.

No one had mentioned his mom, you or Bucky and it was starting to stress him out. Plus, now, he had a dinner date with a mysterious guest. He could have bailed on them, but his mother had raised him better than that.

He arrived at the restaurant with ten minutes to spare and decided to stay outside while he waited for his guest. It seemed like a lovely place; French food, but not too pretentious. He hazarded a glance inside, but the lights were dimmed.

French food and dimmed lights? This wasn’t a casual evening, it was a date. A wave of nausea hit him and for a second he thought he might throw up. If he had a girlfriend, then he was the world’s shittiest boyfriend.

He woke up that morning with two naked women, neither of them seemed to be his partner. As a kid, he’d promised himself he’d treat his partners with respect, especially after his father left his mother for another woman.

His mother was his hero, but as far as he was concerned, his father could rot in hell.

Outside the sun had set and there was a distinct chill in the air. Steve tightened his coat around himself and looked around. There was a man, not far away, busy typing away on his phone.

He was tall, probably in his late twenties, and dressed smart casual. His shoulder length hair was tied up in a bun and he was wearing a long coat above a navy blue shirt.

“Bucky?!” Steve exclaimed, recognizing his best friend.

The man looked up from his phone with a frown and met Steve’s eyes. Steve’s face split into a wide smile as he walked over to him.

“I’m so glad to see you,” he said, pulling him into a hug. Bucky’s body was stiff, but Steve was too happy to notice that. “Look at us, all grown up and stuff!”

Bucky didn’t say a word, he pulled back quickly and smiled tightly at Steve who was still beaming.

“The craziest thing happened to me today,” Steve continued, undeterred. “You’re not going to believe this. When I woke up th-”

“I’m so sorry I’m late. It’s rush hour, I had to fight my way into the train,” you said breathlessly. You had seen someone with Bucky, but you only realized who it was when you turned to him. “Steve?”

“Hi,” Steve replied, looking down at his shoes.

The last time he’d seen you, you had run away after Brock asked you if you wanted to play Seven Minutes in Heaven with Steve. You had broken his heart that day. It might have been 17 years ago, but, to Steve, it was only yesterday.

“Are we waiting for someone else?” he asked.

Your eyes widened. “We?”

You and Bucky shared a look, the two of you had become masters in the art of silent communication. Bucky curled his arm around your waist and tucked you against his side. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed.

What?

No...

“Steve,” Bucky said after clearing his throat. “I don’t know who you’re meeting here, but it’s not us. We,” he paused briefly, “we haven’t seen you since high school.”

That comment made Steve’s head snap up. “High school? We’re not friends anymore?”

You were taken aback by his tone. It was pleading, almost childlike and it made your chest tighten. You had to remind yourself that this man, as nice as he was trying to be, wasn’t the sweet kid you used to know.

He was a celebrity, a billionaire and women threw themselves at his feet. He lived a scandalous life. He wasn’t your Steve.

A pretty blonde with long legs and a perfect white smile came up to them and kissed Steve on the cheek. She turned to you and Bucky and greeted you with a cheerful ‘hello’.

“Looks like you found your date,” Bucky told him watching you shake the blonde’s hand.

Steve caught the gleam of the solitaire on your ring finger. Caught off guard, he stared at you with a wounded look on his face. Bucky tightened his arm around your waist.

“You’re married.”

“Engaged,” you corrected, smiling at his date when she grabbed your hand and took a closer look at your engagement ring. She commented on how beautiful the ring was and you agreed, turning your head to smile at Bucky.

He shook his head, bashful, and kissed your temple. Steve was frozen, unable to look away and unable to close his eyes. His whole world came crashing down around him.

“We should go,” Bucky whispered into your ear as he linked his fingers with yours. He straightened up to look at Steve and his date. “It was nice seeing you. Enjoy your evening.”

“Likewise,” the woman said with a smile. “And congratulations.”

Steve cleared his throat. “Yes, congratulations.”

He watched you and Bucky enter the restaurant. A myriad of emotions washed over his face, none of them pleasant.

Be careful what you wish for...

Part 3

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #marvel imagine #steve x reader #marvel fanfiction #steve rogers imagines #marvel imagines #steve rogers imagine #redgillan #redgillanwrites #missed chances

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