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secretpeachtea · 4 years ago

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Onigiri Miya Tidbits Ch 3

Title: the unexpected reunion

Genre: gen fic, reader insert

Word count: 5.1k

Summary: Onigiri Miya is now hiring and you just happen to be the right person for the job. The business has been gaining popularity since its grand opening, and many customers travel from different cities just to have a bite of Miya Osamu’s delicious recipes. You did expect some craziness from working in food services, but what you didn’t expect was to be bombarded with frequent tomfoolery from a bunch of attractive volleyball players during your shifts.

disclaimer: manga spoilers

A/N: I uhh went a little overboard with the word count this time, but im a hoe for msby so whoops. hope you enjoy!

Previous///Next

“Good work today, (Name)-san!”

“You too, Osamu-san!”

Your boss walks up to the entrance and switches over the sign to display ‘Closed’. You let out a deep yawn as you grab the broom to start your nightly cleaning routine at Onigiri Miya.

It’s hard to believe that it’s already been a month since you started working here. You can honestly say that this is probably the most enjoyable job position you’ve had in a while. You were able to learn new onigiri recipes and even started recognizing some of the regular customers that have fallen in love with Osamu’s cooking. This includes a very kind, elderly woman who always makes sure to give you a peppermint every time she stops by.

Your friendly relationship with Osamu has definitely been one of the most obvious reasons why you’ve been able to juggle everything in your life along with working for your expenses. He’s become a trustworthy and reliable person even though you’ve only known each other for a short period of time. Although it was a bit awkward calling each other by your first names in the beginning, you both got fairly comfortable addressing each other since you practically see him almost every day.

Though he doesn’t necessarily count as a customer, Osamu’s troublemaker brother is another frequent guest at Onigiri Miya. Atsumu comes by to visit at least once a week to eat or stop by after practice. By default, that means you’ve had the pleasure to deal with his antics every week since the kitchen massacre incident. He’s even gotten into the habit of calling you ‘sweetheart’ just to get some reaction out of you. You have to admit, it’s pretty fun to watch the twins banter back and forth, especially since Osamu always makes Atsumu pay for whatever he eats (“But, I’m your brother!”/”Yeah, so you should support my business.”).

Despite the chaos that follows Miya Atsumu, you always end up striking up a decent conversation, usually revolving around volleyball and his team. He always brings up how he’ll bring over the team eventually, but it’s just been a bit busy lately since they were preparing for tryouts. He actually hasn’t come by for a couple days now for that reason.

You snap out of your thoughts when you hear Osamu’s phone ringing. Judging by the slight scowl on his face, it’s probably his brother. You just continue to sweep under the counter, assuming that the call isn’t that important.

“You’re what? Right now? Seriously?” Osamu questions with a slightly peeved tone. There’s a brief pause as the other person on the other line starts whining. Your boss just sighs in defeat. “Fine. Only this one time since it’s been a while.”

Osamu ends the call reluctantly and you’re slightly concerned at his reaction. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, ‘Tsumu just told me that he’s on his way here with some of his teammates. Apparently they’re celebrating the new player on their team but everywhere else is closed or too crowded.”

“I can’t say I’m surprised that he told you last minute,” You sympathized.

“They’re gonna be a bit rowdy, so I guess I’ll just apologize now for bringing you into this mess. You can just continue doing your own thing and not worry about them.” The man just let out another tired sigh before making his way back behind the counter area and setting up any ingredients he may need to make more food. You let out a chuckle and waved off the unnecessary apology before continuing your sweeping.

It seems like the guys really told Osamu last minute because before you knew it, the front door flew open and a group of boisterous male voices rang through the air. You were so startled that you almost dropped the broom in your hands, turning your focus away from the guys that just walked in.

“Hey, ‘Samu! We’re here to party!”

“It’s been a while!”

“Wow! This place seems really nice! Your brother's pretty cool, Atsumu-san!”

Your body froze. You were caught off guard with the last person who spoke and couldn’t help but turn around quickly to confirm your suspicions. You were faced with four males clad in the yellow tracksuits you’ve become used to seeing since it’s the only thing you’ve seen the blonde Miya twin wear. Each held onto their own gym bags, so you assume that they just got out of practice. You recognize Atsumu and Bokuto. The one wearing a mask has never visited Onigiri Miya, but you can assume he’s Sakusa Kiyoomi, or better known as ‘Omi-Omi’ since that’s the nickname you hear from Atsumu’s stories. However, what you didn’t expect was to come face to face with a familiar mop of orange hair.

“Sho-kun?”

Everyone’s eyes shot towards your direction at your sudden interruption, including Hinata Shoyo’s. “No way! (Name)-san?!”

You placed your broom against the wall and the two of you made a beeline towards each other. Once you were close enough, Hinata engulfed you in a big bear hug. Even though he isn’t much taller than you, his muscular build entrapped you in a warm and comforting embrace. He rocks the two of you back and forth gleefully and you can’t help but squeal from the cute gesture.

Once the two of you separate, you both face each other with curiosity completely ignorant of the other people in the room who are looking back and forth between you guys in a state of bewilderment and shock.

“I didn’t know you worked here!” Hinata exclaimed.

“I actually only started working here about a month ago!” You responded back just as excitedly. “When did you get back to Japan? How’s Pedro? I didn’t get the chance to swap contact info before I left.”

“About a week ago! I tried to settle in and fix my sleeping schedule before I went to tryouts for Black Jackals and I got on the team! And, Pedro’s doing great! I can give you his social media account if you want!”

It seems like Atsumu was the first to get tired of watching without understanding the situation, so he just decides to break the ice himself, “Now, hold on a sec. You two know each other?”

“We actually met in Brazil!” Hinata replies.

“BRAZIL?!”

Osamu decided to join in on the questioning, albeit in a bit more of a reserved manner than his brother. “(Name)-san, why were you in Brazil?”

“I studied abroad for about 6 months lasts year,” you start to explain and then begin to ruffle Hinata’s hair. “I happened to run into Sho-kun after his bike broke down in front of the apartment I was staying at. Poor guy looked so lost, and his phone was out of battery so he couldn’t call anyone.”

The boy just laughs at your friendly gesture. “Yeah! (Name)-san helped me find the nearest repair shop and even patched up my injuries! I was really surprised to find someone else who spoke Japanese!”

“Same here. I didn’t know anyone in Brazil, so it was a bit lonely. We actually met up quite a few times to share a meal or watch a volleyball match at the beach whenever we were both free.”

The rest of the guys listened on with interest, except for maybe Sakusa who just walked over to one of the empty tables and wiped down the chair before taking a seat. Atsumu makes his way over to where you and Hinata are standing and throws an arm over the younger boy. “You guys seem pretty close if you’re on a first name basis, Shoyo-kun.”

Hinata just looked up to his fellow team member with innocent eyes. “Well, everyone called us by our first names in Brazil, so we just decided to go with it since it was getting a bit confusing for some of our friends.”

“That’s pretty cute. You guys are basically best friends already.” Atsumu just hummed in acknowledgement before turning his head towards Sakusa. “Him and I are also on a first name basis ‘cause we’re the best of friends. Ain’t that right, Omi-Omi?”

You could hear a faint “tch” come from the masked figure. “Don’t associate me with one of your fantasies, Miya. And, I only called you by your first name that one time when your brother delivered food to the gym.”

“So cruel, Omi-Omi.”

“Okay, guys. Take a seat! Food’s ready!” Osamu announces. “(Name)-san, you mind helping me bring some of this stuff?”

You nod your head and take some of the warm food into your hands following your boss to where all four of the guys are now seated. Similar to when you first met, Bokuto’s lips slightly glisten from the drool pooling at the sight of the tasty meal. Sakusa pulls his mask down and places it in a plastic bag so that it doesn’t get messy from the food. Once all of the food is set on the table, you and Osamu stand off to the side to give the guys some space as they eat. However, before anyone could take a bite, Atsumu stands up from his chair.

“Alright, guys! Before we start eating, we gotta remember why we’re here! Captain and the other guys were a bit busy, so they couldn’t make it tonight, but it’s important that we do this today!” The blonde pats Hinata on the head. “Welcome to MSBY Black Jackals, Shoyo-kun!”

Bokuto lets out a loud whistle. “WOO! Welcome to the team, Hinata!!”

Sakusa just nods his head at his new teammate, the usual frown he sports is now absent from his face. If you squint hard enough, there’s a miniscule curve at the corner of his mouth.

“But, that’s not all!” Atsumu remains standing as he dumps the rest of his speech on everyone in the room. He points at the two-tone haired male sitting in front of him. “Bo-kun! The bag, please!”

Bokuto snaps his fingers as if he just remembered something. The owlish man shuffles through his gym bag and produces a heavy plastic bag. You can hear the clinking of glass as he raises it higher. “I’ve got the good stuff!”

Atsumu looks ecstatic. “Can’t have a celebration without a little bit of alcohol to spice it up!”

Slightly concerned, you look up to Osamu to gauge his reaction towards the introduction of alcohol. He looks a bit uneasy, but just lets out his third sigh of the night. “Just don’t break anything, or I will make sure none of you make it out alive from this building.”

Completely ignoring the threatening tone, Atsumu and Bokuto start popping open bottles of who-knows-what. Sakusa just opts for a glass of water since he has no intentions of partaking in the silly shenanigans between the two most eccentric volleyball players. Hinata has no choice but to comply as Atsumu pours his glass to the brim. Eventually all the guys start to dig into their food as well.

With nothing else left to help them with, you and Osamu get back to cleaning the other areas. It only takes about 15-20 minutes to wipe down everything and gather the trash. You step into the back room to get everything together so that you’re prepared to leave whenever the group outside finishes their meal. You smile as you hear muffled laughter and loud conversations through the closed door. Your boss had let you know that he’ll clean up after them, but you didn’t have the heart to make him do all of that work himself.

You step out to the main room to have an idea of where everyone’s at with their food but stop in your tracks as you witness a significantly more irritated Osamu watching the table of four with a twitching eye behind the counter. You’re about to ask what’s wrong, but you can pretty much guess what the problem might be.

The table is littered with empty alcohol bottles and half-full glass cups. Surprisingly, there isn’t much of a mess in terms of leftover food, but it doesn’t make up the fact that there are three very drunk men hovering over the table.

Atsumu’s upper body is entirely flushed pink from the bottom of his neck to the tips of his ears, and he’s fanning his face with the top of his shirt. Hinata practically has flowers oozing off of his figure as he sways back and forth next to the blonde, a permanent carefree smile plastered on his face next to his red cheeks. Although not as obvious as the other two, Sakusa has a glossy shine to his eyes above his own pink cheeks and hiccups occasionally in his seat, focusing his eyes on a tiny speck on the table. Not sure whether to be surprised or not, your eyes move onto Bokuto, who was completely sober. He heartedly laughs at the state of his drunk friends, enjoying every moment.

“I thought Sakusa-san wasn’t going to drink?” You ask Osamu.

Your boss just shakes his head. “‘Tsumu switched his glass when he went to the bathroom and he didn’t notice until it was too late.”

You’re not sure whether you want to pray for the blonde’s safety once Sakusa is in his right mind, or if you wanna ask Hinata to record the poor man’s fate in the hands of an angry, hungover Sakusa.

Osamu just turns around with heavy steps and makes his way to the back room, probably to do the same thing you went to the back room for a couple minutes ago. You look back to the table when you hear a chair scraping against the floor. Atsumu seems to have moved his chair right next to Sakusa because before you knew it, he was leaning against the tall spiker with his hands in the air.

“Omi-Omi! Can I borrow your sanitizer? My hands got dirty!” Wrong choice of words.

Sakusa immediately shoves his elbow backwards and it slams right into Atsumu’s chest, forcing his breath right out of him. The setter doubles over clutching his chest, while Sakusa simply pulls out his sanitizer and applies it to wherever he has come in contact with the man next to him. It seems like drunk Sakusa is a bit more violent about his way of rejecting people.

Remembering how tired your boss looked before he left the room, you felt the need to try and intervene to encourage the group to start thinking about calling it a day. As you approach, the first person to notice you was Hinata. As soon as he realizes who you are, his eyes light up as if he was a child that just received a birthday gift.

“(Name)-san!”

You don’t even get the chance to make it halfway to the table when the boy jumps up from his chair and stalks over to where you are. Without warning, Hinata throws his arms over your shorter figure and smothers you with another hug. It takes all of your mental fortitude to not think about how muscular his arms feel around your shoulders or how strong his grip is on your back. He was definitely not this fit the last time you saw him.

“You’re awfully affectionate today, Sho-kun.”

“Hehe~ I’m just glad to see you, (Name)-san!” Hinata starts shuffling around a bit until his cheek is able to nuzzle with yours. You giggle at how adorable he is.

Although you appreciate his affection, Hinata was slowly suffocating you with his tight embrace. You signal to the only other sober person in the room for help. Bokuto continues to laugh at everything going around him but complies and makes his way over to the two of you before peeling off the orange haired male from your body. Luckily, Hinata was too drunk to actually keep his grip on you and just fell into his teammate’s arms.

“Thanks, Bokuto-san.” You’re able to stand up straight again and Bokuto gives you a thumbs up with a wide grin. He takes Hinata back to the table to sit him down and you follow suit. Osamu walked out of the back room at this time and just began tying up two large trash bags next to the sink, not even batting an eyelash in the group’s direction.

You should’ve expected it, but you were still startled when you suddenly felt a heavy arm sling across your shoulder. “So, you come here often, sweetheart?”

You blankly stare at Atsumu’s smug expression as he continues to nestle his arm comfortably around you. His flushed appearance was definitely not helping his attempt at flirting with you. “Come on, there’s no way a goddess like you could resist my divine qualities.”

“Lame.” Osamu was quick to comment on his brother’s cheesy words while walking towards the exit with the two garbage bags in his arms. He stepped outside and closed the door to keep any insects from wandering inside as he took out the trash.

You were about to swat Atsumu’s body away but noticed the deep, dark circles under his eyes and came to the conclusion that he’s probably going to pass out from exhaustion at some point anyways, so you just let him be. His attention span seems to be a lot shorter too since he suddenly let go of you and lunged forward towards Sakusa’s hand sanitizer bottle that was now sitting neatly on top of the table.

Although he’s usually good at completely avoiding Atsumu’s attempts at stealing his things, Sakusa’s reflexes were a bit deterred due to his tipsy condition. Instead of snatching the bottle away from the blonde’s vicinity, Sakusa ended up knocking the bottle to the ground with his own hand.

Luckily, Bokuto was able to stop Atsumu from crashing onto the table headfirst with one arm still holding onto Hinata. Afraid that Sakusa would possibly slap the setter or drag Hinata into the crossfire in a drunken stupor, he pulled Atsumu close by and slung his arm over his two drunk teammates.

Sakusa just let out a disgruntled groan and sent a nasty glare to Atsumu. He stood up to look for the fallen bottle but misjudged where he stepped. Luck decided not to be on his side as the tall spiker placed a foot directly on top of the sanitizer bottle causing his balance to shift. The world tilted in his vision and his body began to succumb to gravity and fall...on top of you.

You tried to stop both of your bodies from losing balance by wrapping your arms around his torso, but your shorter frame was no match for Sakusa’s much bigger body. You can hear shouts of concern coming from the other three guys as the both of you crashed to the floor in a mess of limbs. The air is knocked out of you and you wince at the heavy weight laying on top of you.

During the fall, your eyes shut tight automatically to brace yourself, so it takes a moment for you to reopen them. As soon as your eyelids flutter open, your breath hitches. Sakusa’s face is mere inches from your own and he looks just as stunned as you do. You realize that his thighs are on either side of you and somehow he was able to quickly place a hand under your head to make sure it didn’t come in direct contact with the hard floor after toppling over together. Your heart is beating fast and you can only hope that Sakusa doesn’t notice.

While the two of you are stuck in a brief trance, the rest of the group is just watching in a huddled position. Even they were mostly keeping silent, perhaps anticipating whatever was going to happen next. Hinata's face held a mixture of confusion and wonder, while Atsumu’s expression held obvious annoyance. Bokuto's eyes danced with fascination as his mouth hung loose.

All of a sudden, the front door slid open and everyone’s head snapped towards the entrance. Osamu stood on the other side wiping his hands on his jeans.

“Alright, guys. It’s time to-” He stopped speaking once he took a good look at the scene in front of him. It was a bit difficult to figure out what was going through Osamu’s head because he just held a deadpan expression.

Not liking the bit of tension in the air, you clear your throat. “Um...I could use a little help.”

At your pleading, Osamu steps back inside the shop and grabs Sakusa by the shoulders to slowly take him off of you so that the spiker doesn’t end up falling over again from any sudden movements. You sit up and see that Bokuto had gotten up from his seat to lend you a hand. You take it gratefully.

“I guess now would be a good time to go home,” Bokuto mentions sheepishly. “Do you guys need any help with cleaning?”

Osamu gave Sakusa a glass of water to sober him up a bit then turned to Bokuto. “Just keep an eye on these guys and (Name)-san and I will take care of everything else.”

With that, you and your boss spent the next couple of minutes clearing the area and washing all the used dishes. In the meantime, Bokuto kept an eye on all of the other guys and even called up a taxi to arrive soon. Atsumu and Hinata seemed to have fallen asleep while waiting, and Sakusa just slouched in his chair quietly grumbling about how his sanitizer is undoubtedly contaminated.

Once everything was set, all of you grabbed your things (Osamu shouldering his snoring brother; Bokuto piggybacking a snoozing Hinata) and locked the door to Onigiri Miya. The taxi was already parked in front of the shop, so all that was left was to figure out how everyone was getting home.

“You only called for one taxi?” Osamu questioned.

“Oh yeah, Omi-kun doesn’t want to ride the taxi,” Bokuto replied as he hoisted Hinata’s body in the back seat of the taxi. “I thought we could all just squeeze into the back since most of us are on the way anyways.”

Sakusa, who is slightly more sober than before, took out a new mask from his bag. “I live a couple blocks down, so I’ll just walk.”

“Oh, actually, I live a couple blocks down too, so I was just planning on walking as well,” you respond. “You all have to go in the opposite direction, so it’ll be a hassle to drop me off.”

Osamu’s eyebrows furrow with unease. “It’s pretty late. I don’t think it’s a good idea to walk around in the dark alone at this hour. Where’s your place?”

“Ashita Complex*.”

“Seriously?!” Bokuto suddenly exclaims, startling everyone. “Omi-kun lives there too!”

“No-”

“That’s great,” Osamu interrupts. “You guys can walk together.”

Bokuto’s hair flairs up along with his arms in satisfaction. “Man, I love it when everything works out and everyone’s happy!”

There seemed to be no room for objections by the germaphobe himself, so he just sighs in defeat. The rest of you just say your goodbyes and Osamu finally shoves Atsumu into the back before taking the front passenger seat himself with Bokuto offering to sit in the back with his sleeping teammates. As soon as the taxi is out of sight, you turn around to see that Sakusa had already started walking ahead.

“Hey! Wait up!” You rush to where Sakusa was and eventually match your strides with his.

The taller man doesn’t slow down his pace and just continues forward. He does, however, glance at you from the corner of his eye. “You know, if you live so close by, it would’ve been fine if they dropped you off.”

“And, leave you to walk home by yourself? No way.” You shake your head to emphasize your resolve. “You’re still slightly tipsy, so I feel more comfortable seeing you get to your apartment in one piece.”

“I’m fine.”

“You say that, but then why are you still swaying as you walk?” You point out. “I know you’re not acting like a typical intoxicated person, but your mind is still pretty cloudy, right?”

There was no way to counter that argument because even Sakusa knew that he wasn’t exactly walking straight since he wasn’t completely sober. “Then, walk at least six feet behind me.”

You pout a bit at his pettiness. The only way to fight fire is with fire. “Yeah? But, what if you lose your balance and bump into a street light that hundreds of people have probably touched throughout the day?”

Silence. You know you’ve won this time, but you still try to be a bit respectful and stand at least an arm’s length away.

The rest of the walk is fairly quiet, only the sounds of your footsteps echoing across the empty streets. You didn’t mind, though, since you were able to just enjoy the cool night air that refreshed your tired mind. Once you reached the apartment complex, Sakusa stepped back as you scanned your ID card and opened the door. You figured he just didn’t want to touch anything, but didn’t say anything since you were just too tired to question him.

The only elevator in the building was under maintenance, so the two of you had to take the stairs for today.

“What floor are you?” You ask.

“3rd.”

“Oh, you live on the floor right below me.” You were a bit surprised at how you haven’t run into him at all since you’ve lived in this apartment for a while. To be honest, it’s probably because he doesn’t go out much unless it’s for volleyball.

As the two of you step onto the 3rd floor, Sakusa starts heading for his apartment door. You didn’t really expect anything from him, so you were taken aback when Sakusa stopped in his tracks to look at you briefly.

“Thanks.”

A small smile forms on your lips at Sakusa’s simple gesture. “Good night, Sakusa-san.”

The said man just raises a hand over his shoulder without looking back and takes out his keys with his other arm. You standby to make sure he goes in safely and hear the lock click. Satisfied, you climb the rest of the stairs to your floor and make your way to your own apartment.

As soon as you're inside, you shove off your shoes and make a beeline for the couch. Taking in a deep breath, you eventually exhale willing your exhaustion to leave your body as well. It probably won’t do you any good to fall asleep in your uniform, so you decide to change into more comfortable clothing and prepare for bed.

Clothed in your favorite gym shorts and oversized T-shirt, you hop into bed. Your eyelids are practically closing in on themselves as you scroll through your phone one last time. Despite your initial tiredness, your eyes shoot open when you catch a glimpse of a certain YouTube video.

“Kodzuken posted a video today!” You squeal out loud. There’s no way you can sleep without watching it now. Kodzuken was your favorite Youtuber, and you’ve never missed a single one of his videos. You even went as far as buying merchandise from his athletic wear company, hence the Bouncing Ball shorts and shirt you were currently wearing as your pajamas.

If you ever met him in person, you honestly don’t know how you’d react. You’ve heard that he used to play volleyball in high school, so maybe with all the volleyball players you’ve been coming across, fate will find its way to you.

But, a girl could only dream.

Leftovers:

Bright light glares through the blinds of Sakusa’s room to indicate that the sun has already risen quite a bit. A loud doorbell rings through the apartment causing Sakusa to stir. The man opens one eye and groans at the obnoxious headache that was already set to ruin his morning. His mouth is incredibly dry, and he doesn’t feel that he’s gotten nearly enough sleep last night. Sakusa was most definitely feeling the symptoms of a mild hangover.

“I’m going to kill that blonde gremlin.”

With much reluctance, the tall man drags his body to a standing position. He makes the bed as neat as possible before walking out of his room towards the front door. Sakusa makes the effort to look through the peephole to see if he could make out the person who decided to disturb him from the comforts of his bed but is confused when he can’t see anyone outside.

Normally, he would just walk away and assume it’s just someone who rang the wrong doorbell (it’s happened multiple times before), but there’s a nagging feeling at the back of his brain to just open the door. Sakusa clicked the lock loose and opened the door wide enough for him to peek outside. A slight shuffling noise startled him and when he looked down he saw a plastic bag hooked onto the door handle.

A little skeptical, Sakusa grabs two disposable gloves from the box he placed next to the entrance of his home and slides them onto his hands. He has no idea where this bag has been, so he’s not taking any chances in coming in contact with potential germs.

Shutting his door closed with his leg, Sakusa makes his way over to his kitchen countertop and places the bag on top of it. He considers just throwing it out, but notices a pink slip of paper at the top of the contents inside. Curiously, he pulls it out and realizes that it’s a written note. He doesn’t recognize the handwriting, but skims through to find any hints of the sender, and surely enough, he sees your name printed in the second sentence.

Hey, Sakusa-san! It’s (Surname) (Name). I’m on my way to work, so I thought I’d just drop this off really quick. You drank quite a bit, so I made you some soup to counter the hangover. Don’t worry! I thoroughly washed my hands and put on gloves before making it! Feel free to throw it out if it makes you uncomfortable. I also put in an extra sanitizer since I know you were upset about the one yesterday. Have a nice day at practice!

Sakusa just stares blankly at the piece of paper for a couple seconds before putting it down and analyzing the contents in the plastic bag. Just like you said, there’s a large blue thermos and a travel-size sanitizer bottle that looks almost identical to the one he dropped yesterday just in a different color. If he were to be completely honest, he probably has the same bottle somewhere in his cleaning supply shelf, but you can never have too many sanitizers. As he took out both items, his nose caught the familiar scent of disinfectant. You must’ve wiped down everything before placing it in the bag.

The stoic man stares at the thermos and sanitizer in silence. After a couple more moments, he simply turns towards his stove and starts heating up the soup.

Ashita Complex: I made it up :D (If you’re curious, ashita means ‘tomorrow’ in Japanese)

***Please do not succumb to peer pressure when drinking, folks! Drink safe!

A/N: the #1 Cockblock Award goes to...Miya Osamu, everyone! Hehe, just kidding~ I also added a ‘Leftovers’ part to this chapter as sort of an ‘extra’ or an ‘omake’! I don’t know how often I’ll add these, but I really wanted to write this one, so I hope you enjoyed it too!

#haikyuu #onigiri miya #onigiri miya tidbits #secretpeachtea #osamu #msby #atsumu #sakusa #hinata #bokuto

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studentville-struggles · 5 years ago

Text

A Double Life

Chapter 3

A self-indulgent Daniel Ricciardo fic.

Summary: Returning to old passions results in the start of chaos and living a double life. We say we hate chaos, but the thrill is unlike anything else.

Words: 1,575 (short im sorry - its a filler really)

Masterlist / Part 1/ Part 2

The reception to your hot lap was incredible. The reception to season one of your show was even wilder. You couldn’t quite believe that people actually wanted to watch you live your life. It was a weird life, you’d give them that, but you wanted to drive, and you also didn’t want to let your supervisors down, so this life was the one you would live. You were lucky enough, and you knew there was a lot of luck (and money) involved, to have the most supportive driving teams, drivers’ academy and university. If even one of them decided it wasn’t worth it, or that it was too much hassle, all of your dreams would come crashing down around you.

People pleasing was very much the name of the game.

Your following on social media also increased significantly – which you expected considering there’s more TV coverage for F2 than F3, but this seemed more than normal for an F2 driver. People wanting immediate update on what was going on in your life, wanting to follow on from what was seen on the show.

In an attempt to keep driving life from your uni life, you had been posting more and more on your ‘drivers instagram’ which you had started when you got the opportunity to go testing. What had started as a space for you to spam your ‘omg im back in a racing suit yay’ posts, soon became full of official team and racing pictures and slowly but surely has become your main professional ‘driver Rachel’ instagram. It also meant that you neglected your old account and so many of your friends didn’t technically follow you anymore. Not helpful in them knowing what you were up to.

You had rarely tweeted (you didn’t know what to tweet about and honestly it felt weird) but you had gained tens of thousands of followers almost overnight. Your friends thought it was hilarious. Lewis was right there to help you freak out about and learn to ignore the negativity such a platform brings in. A surprising amount of people had an issue with you coming back to racing and not having been driving for your entire life.

Life at home was as busy as normal, you were in the routine of 5am starts and 16hour days but you honestly couldn’t wait for the race weekends – the small respite that it allowed. For most drivers, race weekends meant early mornings and an intense schedule. For you it was relief. You considered the 7am wakeup calls a glorious lie-in, and if you were truly honest, you were almost bored in the evenings with nothing to do. Although you had taken to writing papers and collating notes in the emptier evenings.

You were growing into a real adult you thought. You might only be 22 but you could hold your own in a corporate setting. You’d done enough presentations to your research group, as well as at the occasional conference to deal with hard, complicated and irrelevant questions. A skill Lewis often claimed he wished he’d learned earlier in his career. The two of you were different than other drivers. He was the first black driver in formula one and you had hopes of being the first female driver in formula one for years. My god and if you could score points, you’d be the first women to do so in over 40 years. If you even made it into formula one.

You’d been approached by a couple of people about testing or going for ‘a chat’. Not all of them followed up with you, and you had a feeling it would be purely miraculous if you even got to test an F1 car. Maybe if you could jump up to third in the standings, you’d be within a shot. After all there had been three rookie drivers only a year ago.

You were currently sat in fourth place in the F2 standings. Frustrating with how close you had been to improving that score even further in a few races, but still incredibly strong for a rookie year. The rookie luck seemed to be following you everywhere, not that you minded. Some people claimed it was purely ‘beginners' luck’ and that you would crash and burn soon enough, others had a far more favourable explanation. You were lucky enough to have people supporting your racing and a fair few of them, who had seen your show, were adamant that your dedication to a strict and somewhat extreme lifestyle, was the reason for your success. You read these uplifting comments, shunning the trolls, saying that you committed to both a stressful academic course and a stressful motorsport career, you arguably worked harder than half the drivers on the grid. You agreed that you worked hard and were perpetually stressed about your to do list, but you could never say you worked harder than other drivers. You merely worked at different times, weirder times.

As the season progressed you reaped the rewards of your hard work, with the odd experience bringing you back to reality. A few race wins combined with a DNF brought you into 3rd place as the season end drew near.

You were feeling great, fighting fit and looking to finish the season on a high. Abu Dhabi was new tracks for you so you wanted to make your penultimate race in Sochi count as much as possible, not wanting the unfamiliarity of Abu Dhabi to throw you off. You’d sat with the team management and your engineers, done the math and you knew what you needed to do to maintain your third place standings. You calculated whether a second place finish was possible, which although unlikely, it was doable with some outstanding results.

By now your camera crew were your biggest cheerleaders trackside, beside your parents of course, perhaps a side effect of the amount of time spent together. Upon discovering a second place finish was technically possible, had lost the majority of their decorum and were hyping you up no end about it. Secretly you loved it, though it also added to the pressure you felt.

People often thought you were exaggerating how close you were to your team, but you honestly loved them all. You spent every day with them, from walking into university with them, to travelling to test days and Grand Prix's with them.

The off-weeks before the end of season, had been planned with an abundance of lab time and note taking, allowing for the final weeks of the season to be nearly fully focused on racing. Well as close as was possible for you to allow full focus on racing. As you were far too aware of now, plans are rarely stuck to, and you found yourself on a mid week road trip from university to Woking. You’d had a series of calls and were subsequently invited down for discussion surrounding a drivers spot with McLaren. Apparently Carlos’ contract was up and he had accepted an external offer.

Excitement would never be the right word, but it was as close as you could convey.

Lando Norris was everything you expected him to be and more. McLaren had the whole teammate situation under control and the ‘perks’ of working for them were more than your entire life had been previously working towards. Your manager okayed the contract and your formula 2 team were stoked to see you progress once more. Your presence in motorsport was sudden and it was making waves.

---

The announcement of your confirmed contract with McLaren for the next season came as you were busy getting dolled up for the end of season gala. All the drivers, from both F1 and F2, would get together at the end of the season to go all out, have fun and hopefully repair a few friendships the competitiveness may have ruined within the season. It was also one of the first opportunities to get black out drunk for a while. So there was that too.

With both the F1 and F2 seasons ending at the same time, it was handy for you to say goodbye to your team mate for the year, as well as the rest of the drivers you’d been competing against. It wasn’t that you wouldn’t see them again, you just wouldn’t be seeing them so constantly next year. The gala also gave you the opportunity to spend some time with your new team mate, Lando Norris, and suss out some of the other drivers.

Lewis had obviously been teasing you about seeing Ricciardo again, having successfully avoided him since your hot lap. Though he did randomly follow you on instagram a couple weeks back. Weird. You weren’t sure what to make of him now. He had always come across well in the media, perfectly charming and unfairly attractive; a fact you didn’t dare say out loud. However, when you had met him that day, he’d seemed almost arrogant and well, you didn’t stay to find out what else.

You felt a little guilty. He had made assumptions about you based on his experiences at races, and you had in turn made assumptions about him. Should you have tried to get to know him better? He did compliment your drive in the end. Perhaps the gala was an opportunity to set things straight; he can see you as a driver and you can see what he is really like.

#studentville-struggles #rachel tries to write #daniel ricciardo #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo fic #f1 imagines #formula 1 imagines #f1 oneshots #f1 fics #lando norris #daniel ricciardo x reader #f1 x reader #motorsport imagines

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horansqueen · 5 years ago

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You & Me : chapter 2

A Niall Horan fanfiction ; rated MA

Sequel to AM CONVERSATIONS

CHAPTER 1

NOTES:

-one chapter is her pov, the next is his. -4k -im sorry, i never proofread, i hate it. -there WILL be smut. but not only smut. -this is a romance, comedy, smut story. -for the summary, check my MASTERLIST.

- notes: 1- haha syke (sort of lol)! 2-thats why i asked this question, now you know!

yes, thats the only notes you need lol! oh and FEEDBACK PLEASE! :) please tell me how you think their coffee “date” will go?? would mean a lot!

Chapter 2 : Her chapter

OLIVIA

"Honey! I'm home!" I yelled as I walked inside, closing the door behind me and throwing my purse on the couch.

"Kitchen, babe!"

I followed the voice with a small smile and leaned against the door frame as I watched him bend down to take something off the oven. I crossed my arms and stared at him, trying to suppress a chuckle. With a quick head movement, he pushed a lock of his hair out of his face and raised his eyebrows at me with a smirk. I moved closer to him, taking a few steps slowly as he put the cookies he had just not burned for once in a plate.

"You know your son is way too young for cookies, right?"

His eyes became smaller as he looked at me and it made me laugh even more.

"I made them for you, silly!"

"Louis, come on." I pointed out with a frown. "I just spent two hours tasting wedding cakes and you think i'm in the mood for cookies?"

With a grimace, he grabbed two cookies and put one in front of me before sitting next to me at the table. I made the cookie turn around as I stared at it, feeling suddenly a bit nervous. I wasn't really sure I wanted to have this discussion but I told Louis everything. I was surely not going to keep that kind of information from him.

"Okay my queen, talk to me, what happened?"

He slid his arm on the table until his hand reached mine. I let go of the cookie and gripped his fingers tight. His hand was warm, as it always was, but it took me a few seconds to look up in his eyes. When I did, my heart skipped a beat. He was clearly concerned and worried and I just shrugged a shoulder before looking down again.

"I saw Niall."

Suddenly, the grip of his fingers became tighter and I held my breath. Louis and I had been through so much together during the past year and I was scared this would somehow change the dynamic we had. I knew he kept talking with Niall from time to time but it was far from being the way it used to be between them. I never asked Louis to choose between us, and I never even made allusions to it for the simple reason that they were friends before we were and I knew he still considered Niall like a brother. Who was I anyway to decide who Louis could and couldn't hang out with?

That being said, Louis and I had worked on ourselves individually a lot. We both went to therapy, tried to follow our dreams, found love and learned to accept ourselves as full human beings. We didn't need love to be complete and we didn't need our soulmates either. Of course, it didn't feel so easy when Niall was close but if I wanted to be honest, I thought it would hurt a lot more to see him again.

"He was with his girlfriend?"

"No." I replied with a shrug before adding a 'thank god' in my head.

"How did that make you feel?"

I took a few seconds to think and finally looked up, my eyes meeting his as a small smile spread across my lips.

"It's... Niall, you know? I'll always feel something when he's around. That's what you said, right? Soulmates and all that?" He nodded slowly and I shrugged a shoulder. "I mean, I will love him forever but... he broke me, and I don't want to let him break me again."

Louis' face change and he sent me a sincere smile before nodding quickly this time. He squeezed my fingers and tapped my thigh a few times a bit too roughly.

"Ow!"

"That's my queen!"

He got up and kissed the top of my head, making me roll my eyes but chuckle. He walked to the fridge and took a beer out before opening it and throwing the cap in the sink. I stared again at the cookie on the table and swallowed, playing over and over the encounter I had with Niall in my head. He looked good and happy and I couldn't help but think that he never regretted his decision to break up with me. Of course, it took him a few months to get a new girlfriend but when he did, something inside of me died. I remembered exactly when I found out he was dating someone and it was probably the biggest slap in the face I had ever had. I cried for a week, wondering what the fuck was wrong with me. All I could think about was how his love for me, if it ever existed, was clearly not strong enough but even worse, he didn't even try to keep my friendship.

"You're thinking about him, aren't you?"

I sighed and closed my eyes for a few seconds as I tried to get my heartbeats back to a normal pace. I couldn't hide anything to Louis, even if I wanted.

"Not so much him but what I meant for him."

Louis walked back next to me and crouched down, one of his knees on the floor and his hand on my thigh. He waited until our eyes met and he raised his eyebrows.

"We've been through that, remember?" Louis pointed out in a soft tone. "He was scared to be trapped and he let go of the most important person in his life. You were not the problem, Liv."

"He's with someone now." I just said, shaking me head, after letting out a long sigh. "And with her too I mean, he replaced me with her."

Louis nodded very slowly, pressing his lips together and making the left corner of my lips raise up.

"Yes, besides you, my friend Neil has very bad tastes in women."

It was not true at all but I appreciated the lie and I tilted my head to stare at Louis. I had moved back to my apartment after Niall broke up with me and Louis was the one who had picked my stuff at Niall's for me. We hung out together and he's the one who pushed me to write what I wanted to write. My father agreed to make a special section for my story on his site and within a few hours, there were more views than any other page of the site. I found someone to play the male character and I gave myself the role of the female one until I got the e-mail that literally changed my life.

Netflix. I barely believed it and I had to read the e-mail twice but it turned out to be real and after some negotiation, my tv show was about to be re-made with a bigger budget and real actors and this time, it was going to be seen by way more people. I didn't have to insist to keep playing in it, they quickly agreed to that term of the contract and it surprised me. Apparently, I was not so bad of an actress, who would have known? That's why I moved to L.A. with Louis : to live a dream I wasn't even aware I had before, when I was dating Niall. There are so many things I didn't know when I was with him, including who I was. Now, it was different.

"So." Louis continued, getting up to grab his beer again. "Did you girls go with Liam's request and pick chocolate?"

I raised my eyebrows in amusement and my lips parted a bit as we stared at each other.

"How do you know that?"

Louis' smile turned into a smirk. "He asked me and I said I wanted chocolate too! So I said he should harass Julie and he said I should harass you. So I had to challenge him, and he lost."

My face twisted and I frowned, suddenly a bit scared.

"What was the challenge?"

"Oh, darling, you don't want to know." his accent had turned thicker and his smirk bigger, making me shake my head. "Trust me."

"You're right, I don't want to know."

He laughed a bit and moved his chin in my direction as he leaned against the counter, his beer still in hand. He took the last sip and put it away before swallowing and licking his lips. I loved Louis. I really, really loved Louis.

"So? Chocolate?"

I grimaced and sent him an offended look as I shook my head again.

"It's like you don't even know me!"

"What did you pick then?"

I didn't have time to answer. My lips just parted a bit before we both heard the doorbell. I jumped on my feet and we both rushed to the living room to reach the front door.

"Me!" I yelled as I tried to be faster than him.

"Oh please, it's clearly for me!"

I laughed as he pushed my hips with his and even more when both our hands ended up on the knob, twisting it at the same time without opening the door. We laughed and when the door finally opened wide, my smile grew.

"So, who won this time?"

I forgot the game I had with Louis and barely even heard my boyfriend's question. I just tilted my head and bit my bottom lip. He looked pretty and the way he smiled always got to me. Louis let him walk in and he just opened his arms, bending down slightly to wrap them around my waist and pull me up. I laughed like a school girl and looked down at him, bringing my lips against his.

"Clearly, I won." I whispered only for him to hear, licking my lips before kissing him again.

He chuckled against my mouth and finally put me down but I kept him close and deepened the kiss. The fact that we were still acting like new lovers was nice and I hoped it would never stop.

After moving here, we were about to cast auditions for the other characters but I was mostly nervous about the male lead since I was going to do most scenes with him and even kiss him. I was allowed to have a say in who they would pick but before we could even start the auditions, I received a message on twitter. My account was not private anymore and was even verified, which was something I never thought would ever be possible. I was not the kind of person who liked attention but it was still important for me to remain on social medias, even if I wasn't online as much as other people.

Most of the messages I was tagged in were about Niall and I couldn't blame his fans who asked about me but it was surprising to see it even after so long. At first, the tweets about some of them being 'devastated' by our break-ups made me cry but now I just felt nostalgic of what I once had with him. One time, though, I got a notification that I was tagged in a post and when I clicked on it, I choked on my coffee. Dylan O'Brien. Dylan fucking O'Brien had tagged me and had added 'would love to play in your show!'

After a few days of chatting online, we had finally decided to talk on the phone and I realized he was the funniest and sweetest guy in the world. It's only really the very first time I met him that I realized I had it bad, though. He came to the audition but in my head, the part was already his, and when our eyes met, I felt it inside of me. It could have been just me being starstruck but when he had smiled at me, my heart had fluttered in a way it hadn't since... since Niall.

"You two get a fuckin' room." Louis let out, but I could hear amusement in his voice.

I turned to him and he sent me a smirk just as I showed him my middle finger.

"I live here too, remember?" I asked jokingly.

The plan when we moved here was to buy a house together, support each other and spend as much time as we could with each other. Did Louis and I ever had sex after that infamous night? Maybe, but quickly, we had both stopped needing it. Not because we weren't in pain anymore, but because we had other distractions and other things to focus on. I hadn't received my first check yet but it was coming and I knew it. I couldn't wait to give some of my money to Louis for the house but only as a rent. He was keeping the house to live in it with his girlfriend while I had planned to move with Dylan very soon. Everything was falling into place, and just as I thought my life was exactly the way it was supposed to be, I saw Niall again.

"Yea well you two lovebirds will have the house for yourself tonight." Louis explained, grabbing his wallet from the coffee table and looking for his keys. "I'll be gone all night."

"Say hello to Eleanor for me!"

Louis sent me a smirk and a wink before walking up to us and bending down to kiss my cheek.

"Will do." he promised in a low tone. "Goodnight queen."

A few months earlier, I had heard Louis cry himself to sleep at night. It was not something unusual, I knew it happened from time to time since his mother had passed away, but I remember leaning against the wall of his room for half an hour, listening to him cry and crying with him. If he had wanted me to be there with him, he would have asked, I knew it, that's why I didn't knock or tried to talk to him, but at the same time, it was hard to handle, and I couldn't pretend I knew him as much as Eleanor did. He was also crying for her, I was well aware of that, and on that night, I had messaged her. I didn't have to beg her to come over, she just did. She literally took a fucking plane to come here and comfort him. If that's not love then I have no idea what is.

"Goodnight, pet."

Louis raised his eyebrows and pointed his finger at me. "Don't call me that, ever, remember?"

I just shrugged and laughed, feeling Dylan's hand grab my fingers gently as he chuckled too. He suddenly turned to me and raised his eyebrows.

"Oh hey, you were trying out wedding cakes today, how did it go?"

"She didn't pick chocolate mate, don't even bother." Louis grimaced, making Dylan smile more.

"Of course she didn't, i'd say..." he turned to me and his eyes got smaller as he pondered. "She hesitated and almost picked raspberry but ended up choosing.. strawberry and cream."

My lips curled and I shook my head. "How do you know me so well?"

"O'Brien, I hate you." Louis just said, slapping gently my boyfriend's chest. "Thanks for making sound like a loser."

"You're welcome!" Dylan joked as I rolled my eyes at their interaction.

I waited as Louis typed something on his phone and he finally looked up at us and smiled before leaving. As soon as the door closed behind him, I received a text message and walked up to my purse to look at it.

'Tell him!!!!' Louis had typed with clearly too many exclamation points.

I just sent him a thumb up and when I went back, I felt my lips curl very slightly at the sight of the emoji Niall sent me. It was good seeing him, it felt amazing to be near him. It was so hard to realize that my best friend was not my best friend anymore, and although I knew that life is just like that sometimes, it still hurt. This year away from each other was needed, at least for me, to find myself, but I always thought Niall would remain in my life forever.

"So strawberries and cream uhm?" Dylan said to catch my attention. "I can live with that."

I threw my phone on the couch and sighed with a smile, turning his way. I grabbed the front of his shirt and finally looked up in his eyes, licking my lips as his hands reached my waist.

"Can you live with me?" I asked, raising my eyebrows and making him chuckle low.

"Damn right I can."

He pulled me closer and kissed me, making my heart skip a beat. I had never compared Dylan to Niall but at that exact moment, I couldn't help myself. They were both smart, kind and funny, the main difference being that Dylan hadn't shattered my heart in pieces, at least not yet. The way they kissed was different too. Niall kissed me passionately, impatiently and deeply. Dylan kissed me gently, like I was something fragile, something important he didn't want to break, or simply because he wanted to take his time and feel every second of it. He kissed me like every kiss actually meant way more than we both thought.

I felt him deepen the kiss and my heart jumped again. I couldn't do anything with him before telling him about my day, and all I could see behind my eyelids was Louis' text message.

"Mm, I have something to tell you." I whispered against his lip, making him pull away immediately.

He stared at me for a few seconds, his eyes roaming on my face, and I suddenly felt extremely nervous. He was never the jealous type but I don't think anyone could enjoy their lover meeting again with their ex, especially knowing Niall and I's history.

"What's wrong, babe?"

"Nothing's wrong, no, don't worry." It wasn't a lie. I sent him a small smile and shrugged. "I just wanted you to know that... I saw Niall, today."

His eyebrows raised slightly but fell back down half a second later. He stared down at me, mostly trying to decipher how i felt about it instead to react to it, and it made something in my heart stir. He was perfect and I loved him, I really did.

"Are you okay?" he finally asked gently after about a minute of silence. "How did it go?"

"It went... well." I admitted, nodding slowly and glancing down before looking up in his eyes. "He asked if we could meet again for a coffee but I didn't message him yet. I'm just not sure if I should go."

Dylan's lips curled slightly just as his eyebrows raised. "Not because of me, yea?"

I shrugged both shoulders, feeling suddenly embarrassed. One of the reasons why I was not sure was him, but an other part of me, a part I didn't want to show, was simply scared. I was scared that things wouldn't be like they used to be, I was scared that we wouldn't really get along, I was scared that the old me would resurface and I was scared... I was scared of the feelings I could have again if I spent time with him.

"You can go see him, Liv." he let out softly, bringing one of his hands to my face to caress my cheek with his fingertips. "Not that you were waiting for my approval or that you need it but, I know there's so many things you want to tell him and ask him and... it's normal. I can't even begin to understand the relationship you two had, all I know is... it was intense. There's some part of you that will always love him and I'm fine with that. Just... go. And you'll see."

Slowly, my lips curled as I stared at him. I brought my hand to his hair and slipped my fingers in it before sighing. I felt suddenly lighter and I was not sure why. Perhaps knowing that my boyfriend was fine with it helped.

I mouthed a 'thank you' and he smiled more, shaking his head.

"There's no reason to thank me." he just said, pulling me closer and kissing my lips. "I love you, Olivia."

I wrapped my arms around him and closed my eyes, inhaling him before squeezing him tighter against me. It felt good and I felt safe but I finally pulled away and smiled.

"Okay so food and a movie?" he proposed, raising his eyebrows before I grimaced.

"Oh I wish, I mean food, but i'm gonna have to eat in front of my computer." I explained with a sigh, letting my head fall lightly on my shoulders. "I need to write and my mind is lazy these days."

"Why don't you inspire yourself of what we're going through right now?"

I stared at him and raised my eyebrows at the idea before Dylan just chuckled and winked at me. I knew that to write something good, it had to be close to something I was living, but playing it on screen was about to be a challenge if I did that.

"I'll make food you just... work."

I thanked him and grabbed my phone before sitting in front of my computer. I started typing a few ideas here and there but the truth was, I couldn't stop thinking about Niall. Dylan was right, there were many things I wanted to tell him, many things I wanted to ask. but at the same time, I was well aware that I wouldn't be able to let it out all at the same time. I also knew we had to be in a public place, if only to be sure I wouldn't end up yelling or in tears.

'Coffee tomorrow afternoon, are you free? 🤪’

I didn't want to let Niall make me emotional the way I used to be when we were dating, or even before. He always had so much power over me and I didn't want him to anymore. I didn't want anyone to have to much power over me.

'Always free for you 🥰’

The emoji he picked made my lips curl and I quickly texted him a time and place before putting my phone away. I stared at my work on the screen and sighed to myself. I didn't really want to add Niall to my story, I was too scared of how realistic it would become, since my real boyfriend was already playing my on-screen boyfriend, and I decided to push this idea away.

Dylan came back with a plate of pastas and it made me wonder how long I had spent in front of an almost empty document. He sat to face me and my eyes moved up to him.

"I'm stuck."

"Did you message Niall? Are you gonna see him soon?"

I felt my heart skip a beat at his question but he kept staring at me as he brought the fork to his mouth. The fact that it was super casual for him made me squirm a bit on my seat. Was that a good or a bad thing?

"Yea, tomorrow afternoon."

"Good." he nodded, pushing the plate my way. I sent him a smile and started eating too. "Maybe it'll inspire you."

His eyebrows raised and he chuckled when some sauce landed on my shirt and I quickly tried to wipe it off, making him laugh even more.

"Guess you're gonna have to take it off." he just pointed out.

I looked up at him only to see a smirk gracing his face and I chuckled too, tilting my head. I pushed my plate away and leaned closer to him, sending him an amused smile and keeping my voice low.

"Maybe you should take it off yourself."

#niall horan #niall horan fluff #niall horan smut #niall horan story #niall horan writing #niall horan fanfic #niall horan fan fic #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan fan fiction #my fanfics #yam #i want to know what you think and how that made you feeeeeeeel!

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musedblues · 5 years ago

Text

Always Something There To Remind Me [Part: 4]

summary: Home is where the heart is. You’re working on finding yours. After a handful of misfortunes, your old friend Joe helps to unravel life’s greatest mystery while adding a bit of extra grief to the mix.

warnings: Some fun, a little angst, and a whole lot of mixed feeling!

w/c: 6k

a/n: We’ve reached the halfway mark of this story! I hope you enjoy this update. Let me know what you think, lovies!

taglist: @im-an-adult-ish @mrsmazzello @lettinggosthehardestpart @the-moving-finger-writes @imtheinvisiblequeen

Part 5

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

The spring was blossoming to life and after your fair share of sulking, you went on the hunt for a job. Funeral expenses and travel had cleaned out your account, and you needed income. In the local mall, you scored part-time at a tiny flower shop. A lovely couple of old men owned the place and handled deliveries, insisting your only job was to sit behind the register and wait for customers to buy something.

There were plenty of shoppers, but even more spare time to listen to podcasts and text Tegan. You were in the middle of sending your friend photos of the floral arrangement one of your bosses let you mess around with over lunch break, when a familiar voice floated past your counter.

“Oh my God!”

Lacy Duval was standing in front of you with a strangely excitable grin and a perfect ponytail flowing from underneath a Yankees ballcap. Oh my God was right.

“Hello, Lacy.” You gave her a cagey smile. There was no reason not to be polite, but something about the girl really got under your skin.

“I saw you here on my way to Urban Outfitters and I couldn’t not say hello.” The girl was pretty. It almost blinded you to look right at her. But she’d taken to leaning against the counter to shove her smile in your face.

“Well, hello.” You offered once more. “Please, don’t let me get in the way of your shopping.” You nearly plead, glancing past her, willing another customer to show up.

“Oh, no I work at Urban. I totally don’t mind clocking in a few minutes late.” Lacy giggled like this was some kind of big, secret, inside joke. You only let out a very nervous chuckle, afraid if you opened your mouth again you would be a little too rude. Lacy leaned against your register for five solid minutes, gabbing on about the mall and the people she worked with and how she’d never see you here before. All while looking over her shoulder and around yours, like she had somewhere better to be. That’s what stopped you from dropping your guard and actually listening to what Lacy had to drone on about.

She left with a reluctant sigh and you wondered how she justified talking to you for so long with absolutely nothing to say. You shook it off in a hurry, going back to your texts with Tegan and selling a few promposal bouquets near the end of your shift.

Except after then, something horrific happened. For the next two weeks, Lacy kept coming in to say hello. Every. Single. Day. She even learned your schedule and made a habit of stopping in to greet you before her shifts across the mall started. And for a while, you didn’t totally mind the tradition. She kept it up so long, with a pleasant smile. She must have really wanted to talk to you, right? But by her fifth visit, her all too obvious intentions were finally brought to light.

“So how’s Joe, then?” Lacy kept her smile wide and her eyes glued on yours.

“Oh, you know, some kind of superstar.” You half-joked, almost through your teeth. Joe was off with his castmates, winning awards and attending red carpet parties. You couldn’t have been happier for him. He deserved a bit of fun after the winter was so cruel. You just didn’t like that Lacy was asking.

“He’s always been popular but he’s properly famous now, isn’t he?” Lacy pointed out, giddy. “Every time I post a photo with him I swear I gain at least a hundred more followers!” She practically swooned.

It took every ounce of your strength not to throw your head back and groan out loud. Yeah, he was an actor. Yeah, he was good- and recognized for it. You’d had this conversation more times with more people than you ever really realized was possible. And if ever he dared mention your old pal, Kris always referred to Joe as “that famous friend of yours.” Was Joe’s celebrity really all that mattered to anyone? What about his favorite Chinese food, or his theory about the end of Easy Rider? He was a motherfucking person.

And just when you thought it couldn’t get much worse, it got so much worse.

You had just closed up shop, paying no mind to the last-minute mall rats who still bustled around the other open storefronts. Before you could make your way too far past the flower shop, someone tapped you on the shoulder.

It was Joe, who proceeded to wrap you in a big hug the moment you registered his surprise presence.

He was gone for what felt like longer than ever before, but he looked way more happy to see you now, than the last time you reunited. You threw your arms around his shoulders and he lifted you off the ground for a moment, exchanging merry hello’s.

“Alright, alright! We have a guest.” Joe set you back on your feet, gesturing to a very tall and happy looking fellow you recognized from many photos.

“Gwilym.” You proudly smiled up to him, confirming you knew of him well enough to be happy to see him here now.

“Y/n!” He pointed at you, as if this meeting were a long time coming.

Joe went on to explain how Gwilym had been staying with him the past couple of days after all the press tours and premiers were over. And how they drove all the way back here to Joe’s measly hometown because his mother insisted they both stop over for brunch, so she could get the chance to see Joe’s friend. Apparently, she adored Gwilym. You could see why, even just having met the guy, he oozed a certain gentle charm.

Joe knew to find you here at the mall, because you’d kept up your promise of sending the occasional text message update when something more than mundane happened in each of your lives. You listened to him and Gwilym yammer on about how exciting the past couple of months had been for them, taking a beat to notice how good Joe looked. There was a light in his eyes you hadn’t seen since you’d been back in the states.

And then you saw her. Lacy was leaving her shift down the way. You watched her realize just exactly who was talking to you, stop, and turn in a very big hurry in your direction.

“Joey!” She shrieked, rushing up to your best friend. Gwilym was practically shoved aside by the girl on her mission to invade Joe’s personal space. What was even more unsettling was how Joe seemed glad to see her. He pulled her into a friendly embrace that she squealed during. Even though you and Gwilym had just met, the two of you shared a befuddled expression trying to reason why you’d both been left on the sidelines all of a sudden.

Even when Joe pointed to Gwilym, introducing the strangers to each other, Lacey didn’t dare turn her gaze from Joe. She didn’t miss a beat as she went on saying;

“I’m so glad you’re here! So listen, my sisters are throwing this big party and I promised them I’d get you to come. I wanna show you off!” Lacy swayed in place, looking up to Joe through her fake lashes.

“Oh, wow uh sure, when is it?” Joe smiled, pulling his phone from his pocket as you crossed your arms, realizing you were invisible to her now. Lacy gave Joe the details and had the nerve to sweep her eyes over you as she skipped away. What the fuck? She’d spent all month popping in to “say hello” to little old you, but now that Joe was around you’d become irrelevant. She was only trying to get to Joe and you knew it all along, but you were still fuming at her disregard for you during the past couple minutes.

“That was weird.” Joe realized with a shrug, watching Lacy walk away. You knew if you responded you’d only blow a gasket, and luckily Joe was interested in moving on. Gwilym stood watching on in near comical horror as Joe snapped everyone back to business.

“Alright, listen this is very important.” Joe grabbed your shoulders, wearing another hopeful grin. “I want you to come back and stay with us, this weekend. But the thing is you need to say yes right now, cause we’ve got to leave right now.” Joe nodded. You realized he was serious or he wouldn’t have tracked you down at the mall, with the excitable, dashing Gwilym in tow.

///

Gwilym was put to work charming the socks off your mother as Joe raced you up the stairs to help pack your bags. He was desperate to make it to some very specific pizza place before it closed for the night. You just laughed as he threw your clothes into an old JanSport, before stealing it from his grasp to finish packing your thing; full of mostly new clothes you splurged on with your first big paycheck. As you packed them to wear, you felt strangely like life was finally taking a turn for the better.

When you scurried back down the stairs, Gwilym had managed to make a cup of tea and was busy trading some recipe with your mother who was sad to see him go. Joe rushed the pair of you out the door and off onto an adventure.

Gwilym insisted you take the passenger seat on the way to the city and begged you to expose the depths of your Spotify playlist, from the back. The car ride was spent laughing about the musical phases you’d all gone through, and rocking out to the classics everyone loved.

“Hey, this is fun.” It hit you as you gazed at the cars zooming past the speed limit on either side of the freeway, and you didn’t feel usually dreadful. You let the comment slip out without thinking about it, without thinking of Gwilym in the back who might have wondered why you’d be shocked to find a road trip suddenly appealing.

But Joe knew, and he smiled as if to disguise a frown. He seemed to get this same strange look on his face when you even slightly alluded to your recent past.

“John told me what happened, why didn’t you?” Joe asked, quietly, worriedly.

Oh, yeah. Your car slid off the road last month.

“I didn’t want to make a big deal about it.” You shrugged, almost too much like a little kid. But you caught a glimpse of Gwilym in the back, pretending not to notice the shift in conversation. So you reached to turn the music up, and Joe reached for your hand.

Then you all declared this weekend was to be dedicated to nothing but having fun.

///

You made it to the city in time to hurry into Joe’s favorite pizza place an hour before closing, where you and Gwilym played the basic twenty questions of getting to know each other. And there was no stopping the way you each roasted Joe into oblivion, making him laugh all the while.

Joe’s apartment looked different than it had in all the photos you’d seen. The walls were decorated in old family photos and there were plenty of knickknacks you recognized from the years gone by, and some you didn’t. Stepping foot into his home felt strangely invasive, and you felt funny for wishing you’d been here more times than just this once.

You thought it was only natural that Gwilym took the only guest bedroom. The guy was one hundred feet tall, and you had no business taking up Joes spare California King. But Gwilym insisted the couch was just fine by him, and it was a big sofa after all. All of his bags seemed to be resting in an armchair nearby, anyhow. You couldn’t justify arguing, and soon you were shutting yourself into the spare room with sleep on your mind.

That was until rain pelted against the sealed window next to you, and you swore you saw a draft blew the blinds back. You cursed your hasty packing. You’d only grabbed an oversized tshirt instead of a sweater. After a moment of bringing your bare knees to your chest to get warm, desperate times called for desperate measures.

The apartment was dark, and Gwilym was peacefully sleeping on the L shaped sofa, borrowed knitted throw blankets decorated across his form. The glow from the streetlamp outside the kitchen window provided enough light for you to tiptoe toward Joe’s room, where soft yellow light seeped through the bottom of the door. Was he still up, too?

You knocked softly, in case he was asleep and your silly request wasn’t meant to matter. But you heard a shuffled from close beyond the door, and soon it creaked open.

“What’s up?” Joe asked, seemingly a little surprised to see you, but it was hard to read his face in the dim doorway.

“I just forgot a sweatshirt. Could I borrow one?” You asked sheepishly, folding your arms out of shyness and a bit of a chill.

“Yeah of course.” Joe breathed in sharply, turning on his feet toward his closet. The door creaked open further and you noticed Joe rub his eyes, before reaching to grab an old college sweatshirt. What was up with him tonight?

“Hey…” You cautiously began, slipping into the room and clicking the door shut. “Are you alright?” You padded toward your friend as he barely turned toward the sound of your voice.

“Uh,” Joe seemed to decide as he gently shoved his sweatshirt toward your grasp. You instinctively held it to your chest but dropped it the moment Joe turned away and started drifting toward his bed. Before he could totally answer your question he started to cry. The second you registered his snivels you darted toward where Joe stood quickly falling to piece. Then he began to explain himself.

“We said our goodbyes and everything, I shouldn’t still be so sad.” Joe croaked, covering his face with his hands so you couldn’t see his broken expression. But you felt the weight of his sadness stomp your heart out.

“You just miss him, Joe. It’s okay to miss him.” You missed his dad too, but saying so seemed selfish. Joe was still catching his breath under his hands as you pulled him toward his bed where the covers were already turned down.

You laid him down and wasted no time curling up next to him, pulling his head toward your shoulder. Joe sheepishly latched onto you while he steadied his breathing, and neither of you spoke. You just smoothed down his hair while he grabbed onto you. Joe was stronger than before.

“You are cold.” Joe noticed, chucking a little into your hair. But you sort of forgot your reason for coming in his room or the goosebumps that decorated your bare legs. You were completely comfortable in his arms. His embrace made you warmer than any sweatshirt ever could. You felt attached to him, but simultaneously cautious of the affection, you didn’t deserve this kind of all-encompassing comfort. Why was Joe’s embrace so much more multiplexed than it had been some odd years ago?

Joe was quiet, but the silence was heavy with whatever was on his mind. You could tell he wanted to say something more, but he never did. You lay together in understanding silence, trying to unravel your tangled thoughts about it all. But the effort made you tired and you drifted off there with Joe.

You woke up later, completely unsure of the time, but noticing the sun had yet to rise. Joe was still lying against you, now in peaceful sleep. You almost felt bad for squirming out from under him. You would hate to disrupt him, and his body was warm against yours. But you knew you couldn’t stay. Tiptoeing toward his door, you scooped up the previously abandoned college sweatshirt, squeezed through the door and back down the hall to the guest room. It was still cold, maybe even colder now.

///

Later that morning you awoke to a clattering from the kitchen. You slid some short on under Joe’s sweatshirt and ran your fingers through your hair before padding out of the guest room to discover what was happening.

Joe and Gwil were dressed for the day, drifting around the kitchen, arguing over something like an old married couple.

“Good morning mom and dad.” You snickered, grabbing your bottle of water from the night before, and watching Joe and his friend point to the oven. Joe shot you a look but turned his gaze back to Gwilym to finish the argument.

“If the fork comes out clean, it’s ready!” Joe pointed to the oven.

“Yeah, but you stuck it in the side, not the middle! You gotta go for the middle!” Gwilym argued. You took a sip of water and watched on in amusement. Had they really woken up and headed straight into baking something?

Joe turned to you, making some kind of whine as if pleading for you to help him prove his point. But Gwilym was right.

“He’s right.” You pointed your bottle toward Gwil who proudly sauntered behind the island to join you there.

“Ha!” Gwilym boasted.

“Ha? That’s the best you’ve got?” Joe playfully jabbed.

“It’s Welsh for ‘fuck off I’m right.’” Gwilym falsely reported, trying to save his comeback. Hey, that was good. You might steal that one. Joe laughed but looked at you with that same funny little micro-expression like he couldn’t choose between horror or sadness. But you couldn’t help go on smiling.

“You’re from there, right? Wales?” You moved your eyes toward Gwilym, who leaned against the counter toward you.

“Well no. Me mum is. I’m a fraud.” Gwil rose a brow and made you chuckle.

“Well, that’s a shame. We could have had our own secret language.” You gently admitted. Gwil kept a curious eye on you as he moved to sit next to you.

“You speak Welsh?” He asked, reaching for his cup of coffee across the island.

“I lived there for a while.” You shrugged.

“What the hell! Joe’s talked for ages about you but never mentioned that.” Gwilym cast a befuddled glance to Joe across the room. Joe talked about you back when you weren’t talking to each other? He was occupying himself with putting a couple of dishes away. You couldn’t read his face when he stepped closer toward the opposite side of the island. Joe responded by lifting his phone in the air and snapping a photo of you and Gwilym in the middle of the morning lit kitchen.

“What was that for?” Gwilym laughed.

“Something to remember you by when the oven catches on fire because we left this damn dessert in too long.” Joe fanned his hands around. You laughed out loud, utterly delighted to be amidst the chaos. You’d missed this side of Joe. His wit and spunk had sort of all but fizzled out through the winter. It was nice to see he hadn’t lost his touch.

The photo he took was accidentally wonderful. The bright kitchen looked like heaven around you and Gwilym, sleepily leaning on the counter.

“I’ve got to post this! Or do you want too?” Gwilym asked, pointing to the picture on your phone. You had an Instagram but scarcely used the platform outside of admiring other people’s posts. Something about how excited Gwilym became and how pretty the picture was made you excited to open the old dusty application. You sent the photo to yourself and posted it to your Instagram without hesitation. It looked like the start of something new. The bright white photo stood out among the rest of your grainy theme, mostly filled with photos of you and Tegan from the pub in Wales. You tagged Gwilym and Joe.

///

That day became a game of sneaking candid photos of each other. You snuck up on each other as you strolled through the city streets and snapped shots of one another buying ice creams and looking in storefronts. But the game got out of hand. Gwilym took one photo of Joe when he was least expecting it, as he was standing on his tiptoes to reach for something in a candy store you’d fallen into the trap of. Gwilym decided it was blackmail, and then the game was on. You got a photo of Gwilym taking a massive bite of lunch and Joe got one of you making some dumb face as you had to wait in line to use the restroom.

All the while, you felt hyper aware of your surroundings and started to take more photos of stickers on light poles and titles of books that were far too expensive but probably cheaper on resale somewhere. You watched Joe open a picture book of old school baseball players. You couldn’t help but snap a shot of the way he held the book open upon the stack of others. His long fingers ghosting over the pages like a treasure. The sun casting patterns across the scene.

“What is happening to you?” Joe laughed at your newfound hobby.

“We’re having fun, remember? I am anyway.” You chuckled, raising your camera inches from his face to snap a photo and giving him a mischievous grin before you scurried away. Joe’s laughter followed you out of the shop and all around the city.

That night Joe hyped you and Gwilym up into getting a little dressed up and going to a bar after dinner. Luckily the newer purchases you packed included a nice enough dress. Then you ended up at a piano bar. Something stuttered in your heart when you noticed the excitement in Joe’s eye’s as they peered into yours. You hadn’t played the piano since you sold your keyboard a couple of years ago. You barely even thought of playing, actually. But Joe clearly had picked this place for a reason, with the knowledge that it had always been your dream.

The piano bar was complete with green naugahyde and mahogany wood, totally stuck out of time but still classy somehow. The crowd varied in age, and you were charmed to find a girl younger than you playing the baby grand on the risen velvet stage.

You, Joe and Gwil sat in the middle of the room, at a cozy table. You ordered dark drinks and listened to each other’s stories while other peoples chatter blurred into the background. Joe ordered something fruity with a straw and held it in front of you, insisting you try it. You took a sip and looked to your friend with wide eyes to confirm it was super good. Gwilym snapped a photo of the two of you then.

“Awe, see, that’s the opposite of blackmail!” You chuckled.

“Or is it?” Gwilym shot you a menacing grin as he stood to order a new drink at the bar. Before you could decode his secret message, a voice caught your attention.

A nice looking gentleman with a German accent tapped on the microphone at the front of the stage as your friend walked away.

“Tonight we are inviting you lovely crowd to come up and play if you know how, or even just want to. Don’t be shy, but do take turns!” The man encouraged, slinking off stage while waving for the crowd to get up and muck about.

“You should.” Joe leaned forward, speaking quietly just to you. His soft gaze made your heart crack a little. You weren’t about to do that. But you almost wanted to, just because of how excited he looked. Had he known this was going to happen? Or was he just dazzled by the hands of fate opening this random door?

“Oh, I don’t know.” You shrugged sitting up a little. Joe did the same, following your gaze. “I haven’t played uh… for a while.”

“Oh, really?” Joe frowned. You didn’t want to disappoint him. You knew he chose this place just for you. But you couldn’t lie.

“I sold my keyboard years ago.” You sorrily shrugged, recalling the time you had no other choice to pay rent. And realizing now that you never told Joe out of some kind of shame. You’d moved overseas with big plans to play, and they all crumbled around you.

“Oh…” Joe bit his lip and got that look in his eye that you realized he always got at the mention of Wales.

“Okay listen.” You turned to Joe, gently demanding his attention. You’d had enough wine to delve into this conversation. And you had finally become fed up with how Joe always seemed more upset that you at the mention of your past.

“Kris and I were like… broken up or something for like, months near the end. Things weren’t good. All I’m saying is that things with him were over before they ended for real. And I don’t miss him. I don’t. I know I should. That’s what keeps me up at night. But I don’t miss him. So please don’t look at me like I’ve lost everything.” You spoke, reaching out touch Joe’s arm. He uncrossed them and turned to face you then with an answer.

“What happened to your 'it’s okay to be sad’ speech from last night?” Joe furrowed his brow, speaking a little louder than you had been to get his point across. But you didn’t feel better for talking about this, like you thought you might.

“This-” You sighed a groan, wanting to suddenly move far away from this topic. “This is different. My life in Wales died when Kris did, okay?” You decided, getting a little angry at the end of your sentence. You wanted to move on. That’s when Gwilym reappeared, a new drink in hand.

“Should we… maybe call it a night?” The lean Brit suggested, glancing between you and Joe. Your friend looked like he had more to say, but you couldn’t go on talking about it all tonight.

“No!” You demanded. “Sit down right now so we can have fun!” You’d gotten your first taste of good times after fearing they’d never come again, and you weren’t ready to give them up.

“This place is beautiful and I’m glad you picked it out, Joe.” You looked to him sincerely and his once-troubled expression softened. You hadn’t realized you left your hand on his knee until his fingers rested on top of yours.

///

After a few rounds of drinks and jokes about things you missed laughing about, you found yourself locked away in Joe’s guest room for the second night in a row; comfy in the sweatshirt you once asked to borrow (now sort of taken hostage.) Your phone rang as you turned down the bed, and you answered right away.

“Helllooo!” Tegan chirped from the other line right away, like she’d been waiting on to hear from you for weeks on end.

“What have I missed this time?” You laughed, snuggling against a heap of pillows.

“Me! You’ve missed me. Actually, I suddenly feel like I’m the one missing out.” Tegan playfully scoffed on the other line.

“Well, of course, I miss you but what are you talking about?” You wondered. Tegan knew the only activities that filled your days were sleeping, working and occasionally seeing Joe.

“I’m talking about the dreamboat in your Instagram post! What kind of bender are you on? Does he have a hot brother or would he be interested in-”

“Oh, God.” You cut her off with a laugh, afraid of what she might say next. “He’s Joe’s friend from the movie. And that’s all.”

“So he’s single and ready to dial my number then?”

“Well, he is Welsh.” You chided.

“I know, I stalked his profile long before this interrogation.”

“So then what’s with the twenty questions?” You laughed. Tegan never failed to keep you guessing.

“I was trying to get you to admit you miss me and this place so much that you’d found a tall handsome fellow to bring you back round.”

“No, no I’ll come back on my own someday, dear.”

“I know.” Tegan lowered her voice as if someone else might have been listening.

“I’ve got to find my sea legs though, yeah? I haven’t had a nightmare in a couple of weeks.” You proudly state, tossing the covers over your legs.

“That’s because you’re living the dream, honey,” Tegan stated, as if she really meant it, as if it wasn’t a joke.

After chatting a while longer about how she’d been managing the pub without you and filling you in on the happenings about the quaint little Welsh town, you had to call it a night when your eyes could hardly stay open.

After you hung up, your phone buzzed a few times in a row. Who could possibly try to be getting ahold of you now? You checked to find a notification from Instagram, about a new follower. Assuming Gwilym had just finally got around to liking the photo you posted featuring him, you went to go admire it one last time. But before your eyes focused on the photo in question, a shocking number arose from your notification button.

You had hundreds more followers and more than a thousand likes on your newest photograph. below hundreds of comments.

y'all are so CUTE!

Why is Joe tagged?

Is that his sister?

Where is Joe?

Oh shit, you thought. These boys really mattered to people who didn’t know them. They found you all because you’d tagged Gwilym and Joe. They wanted to know why Joe was tagged. They cared. The astounding influx of followers and likes alarmed you for a few seconds, as you stared at your profile, wondering if you should delete everything. But why? You were proud to finally have something to post about that wasn’t old a grey.

Just as you thought of closing out the app, another notification popped up, unlike all the rest. Joe had tagged you in a photo. He’d just posted the picture of the two of you that Gwilym had taken at the piano bar. The one of you drinking from the glass Joe is holding while you’re looking at each other. In his caption, only a couple of music note emojis.

///

Gwilym left the next afternoon, with a long face and a suitcase full of New York souvenirs. You hugged him for a long time at the loading gates of the airport and laughed when he lifted Joe off the ground for a hug of his own. You weren’t sure if you’d ever see Gwil again, because that’s how life worked. But instead of worrying over it, you felt happy to have gotten to know him.

Joe started the long drive back to your hometown. He blabbered on about how he needed to help his mom with something anyway so he was glad you came along in the first place, just so he could drop you back off again. But you started to feel bad about how long you’d spent mucking about Joe’s flat and wasting his newly valuable time.

“I can drive a little, if you want.” You nervously offered to spare him a little while of responsibility.

“Do you want to?” Joe shot a curious glance your way as he drove out of the city.

“I don’t mind.” Because, no you didn’t really want to. But you would.

“It’s okay,” Joe assured, settling back against his seat, both hands on the wheel.

“Well, then I can give you gas money, yeah?” You thought. You were suddenly desperate to pay him back somehow for the weekend.

“No,” Joe laughed unbelievably. “Why are you being weird?” He was still chuckling.

“Because! This weekend you’ve been absolutely way too generous. So let me do something for you! Are you hungry? I’ll get us dinner.” You waved your hands to make your point and turned to face Joe from the passenger seat.

“I guess I could eat, yeah.” Joe smiled, nodding his head toward the road as he drove. You were a couple of hours away from home, and thirty minutes from a few good stops.

“Alright! Cheesecake Factory. No buts! Step on it!”

“Do you have Stockholm Syndrome?” Joe outlandishly quizzed. You laughed. “Do I have Stockholm Syndrome?”

Joe continued to imagine insane scenarios all the way to the Cheesecake Factory. You skipped inside together and put your name in at the desk. There were three other families ahead of you in line, and a big party that had followed in just behind you and Joe. You didn’t mind the wait, and leaned against the wall next to Joe, clutching the restaurant buzzer in your fist.

“We’re going to tell them it’s your birthday, so get ready.” You smiled as if you were kidding, but you weren’t. There was a deep desperation in you that demanded you shower Joe with the kind of attention he’d shown you this weekend, and always now that you thought about it. You were tired of sulking. You were ready to get back to the way things should have always been.

“Why can’t we tell them it’s yours?” Joe jabbed your side, his sparkling eyes looking into yours with a question.

“Because tonight is very special all about you night.” You reminded as if this had always been clear.

“Alright well, I want to tell them it’s your birthday.” Joe decided, imitating a snotty brat, sticking his nose in the air as if to make his decision final. Just as you started to laugh and curse at him, someone snaked their way through the waiting area packed with people and stopped in front of you.

“You two!” A voice rang. You were looking at Joe when you heard it, and watched his eyes turn in recognition. A girl with mousy brown hair dyed blue at the tips stood in front of you, and she looked the same as she had in high school.

“Keeley!” You practically shrieked, pushing yourself from the wall to wrap her in a hug. Keeley was one of your closest friends from high school. She would invite you over to play guitar hero and help you cheat on homework. When you weren’t riding bikes around town with Keeley, you were usually with Joe, but on many treasured occasions you could be found at the baseball diamond as a trio, when her little brother was on the same team as Joe’s brother.

“I didn’t realize you were back in town.” Joe hugged the girl after you had your turn. She went to Chicago after graduating and you slowly stopped texting each other long-winded updates over the years, even forgoing checking in on social media. But there didn’t seem to be any hard feelings.

“I didn’t realize either of you were back in the country!” Keeley laughed, looking between you and Joe.

“Oh, God I’m sorry, babe-” Keeley turned around and wrapped her fingers around someone’s wrist. “This is my fiance Rebeca.” Keeley beamed a smile at a woman with big brown eyes and a timid smile.

“This is Y/N, who I will always be indebted to for getting kicked off the volleyball team when she took the blame for the time I slashed the principal’s tires.” Keeley fawned over you as you shook your head in remembrance.

“And this is Joe, our resident movie star and the only person who has ever beaten me at Scrabble.” Keeley gestured to Joe as her fiance cocked her head. You knew that look. Joe did too.

“Hey- weren’t you in that Queen movie?” Rebeca pointed up to Joe with a smirk. He let himself smile and started to give a coy nod as he turned his eyes toward you, for some reason.

“That’s why you were so excited to see it, huh?” Rebeca turned to Keeley and your old high school friend started to laugh.

“I’ll always go see your movies, Maz. I’ll even sit through shitty cop shows just to see that cute face of yours. You’re really good, ya know that?” Keeley gave Joe a playful punch in the arm when your buzzer started to go off.

“I’m still much better at Scrabble than anything else.” He smiled.

“Man, we’re being summoned.” You frowned, holding the timer in view.

“Call next time you’re in town!” Joe demanded toward the girls, preparing to follow you toward the desk. You reached out to give Keeley a quick hug. You waved to Rebeca and assured it was nice to meet her as the ladies turned to leave.

“Come on, birthday boy.” You grinned, looping your arm through Joes and foiling his plans to foil yours.

“It’s your birthday? Happy birthday!” Rebeca called over her shoulder.

“Thank you.” Joe sighed through his teeth, dragged you away giving you a look that made you laugh out loud. You totally won whatever game you were playing tonight.

But just nanoseconds before Keeley and Rebeca were out of earshot, you heard your friend’s fiance gush “They were so cute together!”

But you were too distracted by a friendly hostess to let the distant comment sink in.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

#joe mazzello #joe mazello x reader #joe mazzello fanfic #joe mazzello imagine

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chanyueda · 6 years ago

Text

Chest of Letters ; Ch. 3

i got emotional while writing this idk maybe im just that shallow

also there’s something waiting for you at the end !! dont mind the timestamp uwu

this is probably the shittiest writing i have rn but hope you enjoy uwu love yall

The long car drive to the airport sent a nauseating feeling to Steven, who still can’t get over with the letters he’d read. He told himself he’d leave the chest behind but here he was, cradling it in his hands. The lid was closed, locked and shut, the letters inside calling to be read. The key to it dangled from his neck, for it to be easy to unlock later.

“Why don’t you read one? We’re still a long way from the airport.” Star’s tone had a teasing ring to it as he looked up the rear view mirror, taking a glimpse at his now former roommate. “I could see that you badly want to read one.”

“Stop,” he groaned, “you’re making it worse. Yes, I do want to read it but I’m saving it for later...when I get bored.”

“That sucks.” Star clicked his tongue. “I wouldn’t get to see your reactions.”

“That’s better for me, I guess.” Steven laid down on the backseat, attempting to get some sleep. He’d held the chest so tightly as if it were to be a stuffed toy that he can’t let go. Which, if you think about it, is true. He can’t let go of the chest. It contains the memories he chose to forget completely, including the persons in it.

He sighed, took the key and stared at it in the air. He couldn’t resist anymore; he unlocked the chest once more and took out the paper at the top of the pile. It’s time to read another one, he thought.

Taking a deep breath, he slowly unfolded the paper and let out a small gasp upon seeing the first sentence of the letter.

Hey, should I still continue? I mean, I said I would but I’m not really feeling it. Anyway, I’d tell you something.

I didn’t get accepted to my dream university. I worked hard to get in there but, no, it didn’t pay off. I locked myself up in this room and now I’m writing to you. I got the letter just this morning and it couldn’t get worse. I thought I’d be accepted. I thought I did my best.

It wasn’t enough. Wish you were here to stop me from crying. I still remember you sending me confetti before because you thought it would make me happy and, yes it did. Send me confetti again please?

Maybe he forgot what a letter should look like; there were no salutations and there’s not even a sign at the end. How can they be sure this was from Andrew? But then, he realized that he probably wrote it in the envelope, still, he couldn’t stop the questions that formed in his mind.

Out of all the questions, he only spoke one out, “Confetti? I sent confettis?”

Steven had Star laughing in the driver’s seat like a madman. He didn’t get what’s funny about that, the only thing he knew is what he did was stupid. Who in the world would send confettis in an envelope? Steven did apparently.

“Wow you’re crazy, Steven. Didn’t know you sent confettis.” He took a left turn. “Now I know what I’d give you when you reach New York.”

“No, do not. If you do, I’m flying back here in LA.” He threatened. “But...you know...”

There was a shifting of air inside the car, the atmosphere deemed to turn into sadness.

“There were no greetings again and this time, no name.”

Star hummed.

“Don’t you hum on me! I’m bothered!”

“Well, what should I say? Yay? I’d seriously keep my trap shut than say something sarcastic that would tick you off.”

Instead of replying, Steven proceeded to read the fourth letter. It was...unsettling. The first few words took him by surprise. He wanted to rip the paper off, but he couldn’t. His grip on the paper only tightened of anger and guilt. It was fairly short too, like the last one he just read.

I’m sorry but I can’t keep writing to you anymore. I just...I don’t know. I don’t have the willpower to do it anymore. As I write this, I feel a heavy weight in holding my pen like...I’m struggling with every stroke. I’m close to ripping this paper off but I’m continuing this because I want you to know my current state. I promised to tell you everything, right?

I miss you. Come back, please? I’ve been asking you to do it but you haven’t...I guess you do hate me. Yeah, maybe that’s it.

It was over. No ending statements or anything. Just that final paragraph. He probably scrapped it all but still sent it anyway. Poor guy, he only wanted someone to talk to.

His cheeks felt hot; tears were actually streaming down it, completely drenching the paper. The guilt started to consume him whole.

“I did this upon myself.” He blamed himself again. How many times has it been? “I was selfish. I didn’t write back for whatever reason and now, he just...gave up? It’s only the fourth one, my goodness!”

He sobbed at the backseat, locking the chest and leaving it on the other side. He was a shit friend, and he knew that the moment he read both letters.

Was he even a friend?

Star pulled up on a curb. He couldn’t handle hearing Steven cry out loud.

“Hey, uh...” he clicked his tongue. “I’m bad at this but, there’s still a pile left for you to read. He didn’t give up on that letter.”

“How can you say that? For all we know, he stopped writing and the remaining ones here aren’t from him.” He wiped his tears with the sleeve of his jacket. “I’m a bad person, Star. I shouldn’t have ghosted my pen pal. I feel guilty.”

“It’s never too late. You can always write back to him. Though...I don’t know where you’re gonna look for that address though.”

Steven paid no attention to what Star said, instead, he continued to ramble on, “Don’t you see? He waited everyday for who knows how long...for me to write back and I never did! I’m sorry but...I am a bad person. I really am.”

The next events shocked Steven to oblivion; Star had slapped him hard.

“Get your shit together, Steven! Look, you can’t end it here, I keep telling you there’s still so much to read which means so much for you to know! And, you can write back!”

Hours ago, he wanted to do that. Now, he doesn’t know what to do. Andrew probably does hate him already. Even if he were to write back, it’s too late and he might do the same thing, ignoring the letters like what Steven did.

“I’m gonna continue driving.”

The chest sat unattended for minutes, but Steven could only wonder what else it contained. What other emotions could it contain? It’s like he’d opened Pandora’s box, but instead of releasing evil on the world, it released guilt and sadness through the written letters.

He opened up his phone and scrolled through his social media accounts. He needed to free his mind from everything he’d read. The thought of searching for his pen pal on the internet crossed his mind multiple times while scrolling but decided against it; his first name was the only thing he knew. There are a lot of people who share the name, so what are the odds that he’d come across an account that belonged to him?

Then he saw it. He saw a post from a person he was following.

The post was a screenshot from twitter. His eyes widened upon reading it. The tweet had lots of likes and retweets, but he couldn’t see the replies.

This tweet...he’s looking for him.

#standrew #fanfic #letters #yay we’re at chap 3 #making progress #i got emotional while writing this idk why #buzzfeed worth it #ok i keep forgetting what tags i should put

20 notes · View notes

heartsoftruth · 7 years ago

Note

Are we just not going to talk about the fact that Neymar tried to make his father look good by saying he didn't want him to move. 😂😂 nothing in the world will make me believe his dad didn't have a hand in all this oh ney u love ur friends and family way tooo much even tho i feel they at times take advantage of it i still admire u for this!❤❤

Anonymous said:Neymar is OBVIOUSLY protecting his dad as always because of all the things that have been said about him. Because that part of the message mentioning his dad was totally unnecessary but he did...Ney LOVES his dad well all know and always Jumps to defend him

Anonymous said:In his message, neymar specifically said that his father wanted him to remain in Barcelona, but it was Neymar himself that wanted to leave

True, I dont buy that bit either... But oh well I can't blame him for trying to defend his father who he loves dearly. I would do the same with mine.

Anonymous said:Well because he left in a really bad note with the club (not the players tho I think pique might be 'angry') and besides his father is threatening to sue them for the loyalty bonus so can't blame them for not posting anything tbh. Sad but oh well he and his dad could have done this amicably from the start

Well they almost all did yesterday! :) Happy about that!

Anonymous said:He's leaving alvaro too 😥

Yeah I also get that feeling? :(

Anonymous said:I'm lost and confused right now I don't even know who to follow. Or what blogs to follow, I know nothing about PSG so how do i keep updated on him up

Exactly. I’m also trying to find a few good ones. At least on Twitter. I mean enough Insta accounts, but I also need some real news haha.

Anonymous said:Ash I just read something scary about Ligue 1 and now I am scared for Ney . Apparently the defenders are way more physical than la liga and injure players a looot. With the way Ney plays this will be a serious problem,...I rely hope this boy doesn't get injured or worse become a failure with this move. He is toooo good do this

I think it indeed is physical. I dont know the level of it tho... I guess we will find out... He will be ok. He is used to fouls on him. He jumps.

Anonymous said:ofc he cares but lmao he still left because of moneyAnonymous said:😂😂😂 out of all the letters Neymar could have chosen he chose "M" 🤔😂

Ok no pun indented but these two asks compiled after each other 😂😂😂😂 Maybe the M was for something else? jisajfhjakdhfk Just joking. Just joking let me live xD