#its so complicated. i wanna be able to have someone in particular that i flirt with and talk to. like my person.

[poems-of-a-lover]

i wanna spend the summer crushing on and flirting with someone who understands that i need time to get to know someone before getting into something serious

[sabxism]

Never Have I Ever

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: none besides Rose and Finn being conspiratorial little shits

Summary: You've always been too nervous to tell Poe how you feel. A night out after the end of the war may change that.

It feels surreal, to put it simply. It’s over. It’s finally over. For years, you’ve known nothing but chaos and panic and uncertainty. But now, you can leave all of it in the past. Palpatine’s gone. The war’s over.

Leaping from your x-wing, you spot Poe across the tarmac. He locks eyes with you, breaking into a huge, beaming grin. You sprint towards him, sporting an equally bright expression. He holds out his arms, and you leap into them. He spins around as you bury your face in his neck, laughing. He sets you down, placing his hands on your upper arms.

“We did it,” he breathes, and you nod in disbelief.

“We did it,” you repeat, still smiling. You’re about to compliment a particular barrel roll he’d pulled off earlier when Finn comes barreling over, wrapping him in a bear hug. You smile, walking away to grab some water and allow Poe some time with his friend.

He watches your retreating form with a faint smile, content with the universe for the first time in years. Finn looks at him with a knowing expression and nudges him with his elbow. Poe snaps his head around, cheeks flushed.

“You should tell her,” he says, and Poe’s eyes widen.

“No way,” he replies, carding a hand through his hair. “What if I fuck everything up?” Finn rolls his eyes.

“Poe, I love you, but you’re the most oblivious man I’ve ever met.” This earns him a shocked expression from the older man, and he laughs. “Trust me. Just tell her.” Poe opens his mouth to object, but loses what he was going to say as Rey walks up and wraps him and Finn in a hug.

You watch as the three embrace, smiling. You’re so proud of Poe your chest could burst. He’d handled that last battle with the grace and strategy you’ve seen in him time and time again. You hear footsteps headed your way and glance up, to find Rose standing next to you.

“Hey,” she says quietly, and you scooch to the left a bit to give her space to sit, patting the bench next to you. “It’s crazy, huh?”

“Yeah,” is all you can manage, but you can tell that she understands the magnitude of emotions contained in your reply. No words could encapsulate the feeling of joy and relief flowing through you.

“I heard Poe did some pretty amazing flying out there.”

You grin, nodding. “He really did. Per the usual, of course.” Smiling, she takes in the look of admiration on your face.

“You like him.” Not a question, just a statement. An observation. You look at her slowly and nod.

“I do,” you say, taking a sip of water from the canteen in your hand.

“He likes you, I think. From what Finn’s told me.” You splutter, choking on your drink.

“What?” you exclaim, face turning red as a tomato as you cough. She laughs loudly, and you shoot her a death glare. “If you’re pulling my leg I swear-”

“I’m not, I promise.”

Narrowing your eyes, you swallow another mouthful of water. “What exactly has Finn told you?”

“He’s caught Poe staring at you too many times to count, that damn idiot never shuts up about you, and once Rey saw him fiddling with his mom’s ring behind his back while talking to you,” she lists, ticking off the instances on her fingers.

“That doesn’t mean he likes me,” you point out, and Rose sighs. Ignoring her, you continue. “He could’ve just been spacing out, we’re friends, so he’s bound to talk about me, and he just has a thing about not being able to sit still. Those are just...normal Poe things.”

“What are?”

You whip your head around, to see him standing right behind you. Of course.

“Nothing,” you reply calmly, glowering at Rose as she tries to contain her laughter. “Just talking about that maneuver you did earlier. Very impressive.” He grins, clapping you on the shoulder.

“Thanks,” he laughs. “Anyways, we’re headed out to celebrate-” he gestures to Finn, Rey, and his squadron. “-would you guys wanna come?”

Rose nods excitedly, and you do the same. “Sounds awesome.”

The music in the bar pounds in your ears. Normally, you hate crowded, public settings like this - they stress you out. However, you decide to make a special exception for tonight. After all, you just saved the fucking galaxy.

Poe, expectedly, makes a beeline for the bar with Jess. They order several rounds of shots and bring the drinks back to the table the rest of you are sitting at. He slides into his spot next to you, his thigh brushing against yours.

“Ok,” he says loudly, so your group can hear him over the clamor of the establishment. “Never have I ever - pretty simple,” he adds when Rey shoots him a look of confusion. “We’ll go around the table. Someone will say something. If you’ve done what they say, you take a shot. Snap, you go first.”

“Ok, uh, never have I ever gone on a supply run hungover,” he replies, grinning. Poe groans, taking a shot. You gasp as Finn does, too.

“No!” you say, aghast.

“It was one time!” he shouts in defense of himself, and Rey chuckles.

“He threw up within the hour,” Rose says, and you snicker. Finn kicks the mechanic under the table.

“Alright, settle down,” Jess says, clearing her throat. She shoots a pointed glance at Karé. “Never have I ever flirted with a superior officer to get a different assignment.” The woman sighs, pouring liquor into her mouth. Blushing, you do the same. Poe gapes at you.

“You’re kidding me.”

“It wasn’t here,” you admit. “Navy stuff.” Snap laughs as he recalls the event you’re talking about. “I was about to get assigned janitorial duty for the seventh week in a row, so I insinuated some very...” you pause, grinning. “inappropriate things to my commander. He put me on guard duty on the bridge instead.”

A strange feeling flares in Poe’s chest as you and the others laugh about how flustered the officer had gotten, and his knuckles turn white as he clenches the table. You discreetly nudge his leg with your knee.

“You okay?” you ask quietly, and any jealousy he’s feeling melts away as he takes in the concern in your eyes.

“Yeah,” he nods. You smile.

“Cool.”

“Okay, okay,” Karé laughs, shooting a death glare at Jess. “Rose. Your turn.” She smiles conspiratorily at Finn, who nods at her, before glancing at you briefly. You send a befuddled look towards Rey, who simply shakes her head, shrugging.

You have a bad feeling about this.

“Never have I ever…” she trails off, scratching her chin animatedly. “Had a crush on a close friend.”

Your stomach drops. Rose giggles as she feels you tense up beside her.

“Fuck you,” you say, throwing back a shot. A barrage of gasps sounds from your friends. “Oh, grow up,” you laugh, and Finn chuckles. You glare at him, and he raises his hands in surrender. Slowly, Poe leans forward, grabs a shot, and knocks it back. You barely constrain your shock.

“Oh my gods WHO?” Karé squeals, clapping her hands together.

“That’s not part of the game,” Poe quips, offering her a smug expression. She turns hopefully to you, and you laugh.

“No way,” you say, shaking your head. She sticks her bottom lip out in a pout, before letting her mouth fall open.

“Is it someone here?” she asks breathlessly. You clear your throat, face heating.

“I’m gonna go get some fresh air,” you murmur, slipping out of the booth. Karé and Jess boo loudly at your excuse, but you just flip them off as you head outside.

A light breeze tangles its fingers in your hair and tugs at your shirt, small ripples moving along the fabric. You take a seat on a nearby bench, bringing your legs up and crossing them over each other. Fiddling with a loose thread on your sleeve, you glance upwards. The sky above is littered with small pinpricks of light, twinkling back at you.

A creaking noise sounds to your right, and you look back, to see the door to the bar open. You watch as Poe walks through it, puffing his top lip out and shoving his hands in his pockets. He glances in your direction. You offer him a small wave, which he returns, making his way over to where you sit.

“May I?” he asks, and you nod, turning your gaze upwards once more. He does the same, laying an arm across the back of the bench.

“I wonder how many of those we’ve flown by,” he wonders aloud, motioning to the countless stars and planets above you.

“Probably lots. We really went all over, huh?” He smiles, nodding. You stand, walking to the gate in front of the bar and leaning on it. Poe follows suit, bracing his forearms behind him as he leans back.

“Look, it’s stupid of me to ask, and you don’t have to answer, but...who was it?” You turn your head toward him, puzzled. He nods to the bar. “The game. That last question.” You scoot closer to him, leaning your head on his shoulder. The familiar gesture makes him smile.

“Eh, you don’t wanna know,” you say, and he chuckles.

“Oh, but I do.” You laugh. There’s a moment of silence (not uncomfortable - it never is with Poe) as you figure out how to word your next statement.

“It’s a bit complicated,” you admit, and he turns his head to look down at you.

“Oh?”

“I really like this person, but I also love how close I am with them right now. I’m worried that if they know, that…” you trail off, worried that voicing your concerns will bring them to fruition.

“That everything will change,” Poe finishes quietly. You swallow nervously. “That you could lose them, and you don’t know-” he takes a deep breath “-you don’t know what you would do if that happened.” You turn to face him as he leans up to stand straight, heart pounding in your chest so loud you swear he can hear it. His eyes flit down to your lips momentarily, and your breath hitches.

“Poe,” you say, barely above a whisper. His eyes lock onto yours, and you bite the inside of your cheek.

You open your mouth to continue, but your words die in your throat as he takes your face in his hands. Your whole body goes rigid, and he notices, starting to pull away. Panicking, you place your hands over his, silently reassuring him that it’s ok. He smiles softly, and your cheeks warm.

“Can I kiss you?” he murmurs, and you nod, heart racing. He brings his mouth down to yours tentatively, nose brushing against yours. You smile against his lips, bringing a hand up and burying it in his curls. He fits his hands to your waist, thumb gently brushing over your side. His lips taste like the tequila you’d both taken shots of in the bar, and it’s sweet on your tongue, reminding you of the nectar from the sapflowers back home on Naboo.

The two of you break apart, hot breaths mingling in the small space between you.

“You have no idea,” he murmurs, smile as bright as a thousand suns, “how long I’ve wanted to do that.” His grin widens as you grow flustered, mouth twisting into a small smile.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner,” you say, eyebrows furrowing together. “I didn’t want to mess everything up, and there just wasn’t a good-”

“Hey,” he says gently, taking your hand. “It’s ok, you have nothing to be sorry for.” You smile.

“I really like you,” you say, and he laughs warmly, bringing a hand to your cheek.

“I really like you, too,” he responds, and you lean into the touch. “We should probably head back in, or they’re gonna think we abandoned ship.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you say.

Nobody says anything if they notice how you and Poe hold hands for the rest of the night, sitting closer than you usually do, talking only to each other.

It seems natural, if anything. Like it’s always been that way. Like it’s how it should be.

taglists (open):

permanent: @staarshines

[peeterparkr]

perfidy;tom holland|13

chapter 13: the love interest

enemies to lovers au/enemies with benefits

chapter summary: to fall down an abyss. 

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings:  swearing, fluff, didn’t proof read, smut: (mile high club), unprotected, public sex (skip the * if you don’t want to read it. 

word count: 7.6k

here’s a playlist

and here’s another one

and here’s another one inspired by 1D

social media before you read (IMPORTANT FOR THE CHAPTER) : 

part one:Harry is suspicious, James regrets telling something to Tom, Y/N is smitten

part two:Haz and Sam get updated, Tom and Y/N are still figuring out how to flirt,

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist wanna be tagged?

Love is irrational. Stupid. You were stupid. Or at least you were trying to convince yourself you were. Love is such a complicated feeling. Because it feels like a song, a good one. One you can’t stop playing. But what happens when someone breaks your heart? The song fades away.  You don’t want to listen to it anymore. You can’t live in the past. 

Because when they speak of love, they speak of illusion. You could think of a bright sun and a blue sky, or a pink… and foggy dawn. Illusion breaks. 

Did you love him? Did you want to go again to that chaotic feeling? That constant sorrow of waiting for rain to come down while it’s a bright and sunny day. That feeling of everyone speaking and bustling through the crowd, but you’re silent. That feeling that when everything seems to explode… he finally shows up. 

Because love is… what even is love, after all? Forgiveness? 

Love is being stupid. 

Love is being irrational. 

Love is… butterflies. 

Butterflies. You hadn’t felt those in a while. But there you were, smiling like an idiot to the bright screen. Your stomach jolted as soon as he texted back. Like a teenager. 

Who were you kidding? You were a fool for him, but he… seemed to be in this, too. 

There was something different about all of this. Tom seemed different. Of course you still had to build up your walls but you had to admit that you were really falling for him. There was no way of denying it. And he seemed to like you, too. But did he? 

But of course, there was that particular thought in your head, reminding you of how it feels to get your heartbroken. Reminding you that Tom wouldn’t hesitate on breaking your heart. He hadn’t before. 

He’d proven that to you, several times.

How come were you so stupid? Charlie was right, Tom would most likely commit perfidy. That’s all he was. 

And honestly, what wrong were you doing by writing your story? Sure, it had begun like something to get revenge for, but right now it really was… just a portrayal of your feelings. And it wasn’t hurting anybody. You really weren’t hurting anybody, it was just taking inspiration from real life. A script of an 80’s rock n’ roll love. Of a guy who was supposed to hate someone but ended up falling in love with her.

But was he in love? He couldn’t be. 

Because he’d said it again, and again. You were not his type and he’d rather eat a frog than kiss you. 

Yet you’ve kissed, and his lips were so damn addictive, because they asked for more and more, and they were soft but steady. All you could think about were his eyes, the way he would gently stare at you. 

The way he watched you, god, the way his eyes brightened up and made you feel like there was a single spotlight on you.The way that his smile told you that no matter the rain, he’d make you feel like the sun will come out anyway. The way that he’d turn to listen to you in the crowded room even if you were silent. The way that even with the chaos, he’d be there. 

But he was most likely only charmed with lust. He wouldn’t be able to love you. He never had. 

But…could he?

Love is being a fool, but not caring about being one. But you did care about it, you didn’t want to be a fool. 

That damn thought had you thinking for a few nights. And you’d walk right in front of that bright screen waiting to understand where you wanted to go with this. Re-reading the first dialogues, so full of rage and pettiness. Anger. 

You had your reasons. And though he seemed different…You still feared him. And right now, he had more weapons to hold up against you. He had your heart on his hand and he could crush it. But you wouldn’t let him, and he was well aware of it, you knew. Because even if you were giving in to his touch and his flirting, you never really… gave in. You were cold and you were frigid.

Could you ever open your heart again? Could you ever give in to him? 

But you had. Who were you trying to fool? You’d given him everything you could think of. Why did he even want a relationship? And did he really want it? 

It could be another prank, another complicated way to tumble you down to your knees. Another way to mess up with your heart until he squeezed out every single tear from you. 

You thought of the yellow flowers you’d burned. You hadn’t kept them, but you should’ve as a reminder of it. And your mind, god your mind couldn’t shut up. But your heart was being louder. Your heart was yelling at you, asking you to let yourself love him. You were smarter. 

Because Tom Holland had taught you one thing, to doubt yourself. 

Although, the questions had changed. Now they were wondering why you out of everyone? Was it your hair? Was it your makeup? Your perfume? 

Was it his way to once again fool you? 

A day before the flight, you opened up two boxes. Timmy’s and Tom’s. 

And when you opened Timmy’s… it felt like an old song. It smelled of lavender. You’d once sprayed it with perfume. 

There are people who are tailor-made for each other. You know the ones. You see them act so perfectly, so coordinated. They finish each other's sentences and they, without noticing, end up with coordinated outfits. That’s the story that the box with Timmy told, someone who you should be in love with. 

Someone who was practically crafted for you. Timmy was in all ways the person you were expected to fall in love with. The perfect guy.

You stared at the canister, a friendly reminder that Timmy probably should’ve been and would be your endgame. 

You opened up the canister, and then slid down the bright ring that you’d kept for months now. How long had it been? 6 months now? You couldn’t remember. 

“Keep it, wear it if you want to. But don’t give it back, it’s yours.” Those words had stayed long enough in the air for you to still be able to hear them. 

You placed it on your finger. You hadn’t worn it. Not really. Because it didn’t feel like it belonged to you. Even now that you were staring at it, and though it adorned your hand beautifully… it didn’t feel right.

Was it your own fear? You’d talked about it once with Harry, how you didn’t believe in the one.

Only two people in this world knew about this ring. Well, four if you counted you and Tim. 

Harry and James. Because the first person you’d reached was Harry. 

“If you don’t think he’s the one,”Harry said. 

“There’s no such thing as the one,” you’d said. 

“Well, if you don’t want to marry him then it’s okay if you said no,” Harry said.

“There’s a part of me that thinks I should’ve said yes,” you admitted. “Everyone thinks so.” 

“But you’re not ready.” 

“I think he is perfect for me,” you explained. 

Harry watched you. “Then what’s the problem?” 

“Love is not about someone being perfect for each other, love is wanting to be with someone despite them not being perfect.” 

That’s love. Despite all, you are still the one who I want. 

Was Tom that? Your… “despite”? 

But you didn’t want to love him. Not yet. But then the box proved that to you. Even after everything, even after all the bad things, you were there. Because somehow you were stupid. Yes, that’s what love is. Being stupid. 

And being in love or not, you were already stupid. So you might as well give in. Slowly. And carefully. 

You’d packed the film canister, you had to give it back. And you knew that you couldn’t wait even more, you’d find time to give it back. You couldn’t sleep thinking there was a ring always waiting to be worn when it probably would never be. 

Tom had opened the door the very next morning, you’d meet at his place and you’d then head to the airport.  “Morning!” He welcomed you and then kissed your cheek. The stupid butterflies to make its way back in.

You only smiled at him, as he rushed you to the kitchen. He immediately let go of your hand as he saw Harrison with a bowl of cereal staring at you both with a smirk. 

You walked further apart from Tom. “Harrison hello, nice to see you,” you said with formality. 

Haz only smiled at you, too busy with his cereal. Tom pulled out a chair for you, and then approached you a cup. 

“So, okay there’s your tea and—“

“My  tea?” You questioned. 

Tom grinned. “Yeah… And I made you breakfast, I’ll be right back I need to finish-“

“Are you not done packing?”

He stuck his tongue out. “Nope.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Thomas oh my god.”

“Sorry,” he blushed. “but hey, Tess is here!” He then called the pup, as she rushed over to you. 

You were certainly happy by the news. “Hi baby,” you grinned as Tessa had jumped to your lap, you had forgotten about everything as you hugged the dog, but then you looked up. “How come you’re not done packing?”

He was too busy pettingTess, too. “Huh?” He looked up. “Oh, we...I was busy thinking—“

You scoffed. “ah takes you too much time huh?”

He nudged you. “Shut up,” he laughed, “do you have a checklist I could use? I know you’re a checklist and color coding freak.” 

You rolled your eyes. “I’m not.” 

“Do you or do you not have a checklist?” He smirked. 

You didn’t answer. 

His smirk widened. 

You rolled your eyes. “Fine, okay I do but—“

He snickered. “But?”

You blushed, he was right. “Let me—okay,” you sighed as you took out your phone, “just ignore everything that doesn’t apply to you and… sent.” 

“What wouldn’t—“his eyes scanned the list. “Oh!” His eyes widened. “Oh?” He stared at you. “Oh…” he smirked. 

“What?” You lifted your eyebrows, as you then proceeded to scan your list. It was normal until you saw that particular checkbox. The lingerie one, where you had placed a very nice question mark after it. 

“Tell me you checked that box,” he approached you. 

“Shut up,” you pushed him away. 

“Did you?” He grinned as he lifted your chin. 

“No,” you rolled your eyes. “That's an old checklist,” you lied coldy. “Let me help you out with packing.” 

“No, you’re going to stay here with Tess,” he winked. 

“Tom—“ but then Tessa had gained your attention back. “Hi baby, you’re the only Holland who matters.” 

Tom watched you with pride. “Rude...Stay here, it won’t take long and—,” he watched you. “okay, I’ll be quick, Sam is up there he’ll help me out and—“ you didn’t let him finish as you’d already planted a kiss on his cheek. “Okay, I can… okay, that… okay, yeah,” he kissed your forehead before heading up to his room. 

You grinned watching him go. But you had forgotten something, Harrison was still there and he made you acknowledge his presence by clearing his throat. 

Fuck, you thought. Or said? Maybe you’d said it out loud.

“That’s not… what it looks like, I Uh—“ you blushed and tried to come up with excuses. Any excuse could work. 

Haz smirked and then let out a loud laugh. “It wasn’t you kissing his cheek and then him kissing your forehead?”

“No, no… it’s not that.” But it was. 

He smirked. “what exactly was it y/n?”

You cleared your throat, and played dumb. “what was what? I’m … Tess?” You turned your attention back to the dog. 

Haz cackled. “Tess?”

“What were you saying?” You looked up. 

Haz grinned. “ y/n, I know.” 

“what?” You looked up with fear. 

“I know you guys have… something going on,” Harrison laughed. “You guys weren’t subtle, and I know he asked you out.” 

You cleared your throat. “you see that’s where you’re kind of wrong because we don’t have something going on—he barely just asked me out and at this point I don’t think he meant it because there’s no date plan yet—“ you looked away. Another thing that bothered you, he’d asked you out and there was no date in sight.

Haz frowned. “wait, did he not tell you.” 

“what?”

“What your date will be?”

You scowled. “No.” 

Haz scoffed. “He’s very dumb.” 

You grinned. “We can agree on that, but what is it?” You bit your lip. 

“Nothing.” Haz watched you. “He really likes you, you know,” he commented..

You laughed. “He does?”

“Very much.”

“I…” you frowned, staring into Tessa's eyes. “No.” 

Haz snorted. “No?”

You but your lip. “I’m sorry, I have a hard time believing it.” 

The blonde guy watched you. “He’s been that big of an asshole to you, right?” 

He had been, but despite all of that. There was your body butterflying over a stupid kiss on the forehead. “yeah, so… I have to be careful or… otherwise he’ll break my heart again and… we don’t want that, do we Tess?” You asked the puppy, who only licked your cheek. 

“I don’t know what happened before but right now, he’s head over heels for you,” Harrison admitted. 

You watched him skeptically. “we’ll see.” 

“seriously,” Haz stated. “he won’t shut up.” 

You chuckled. “But he never does, about anything,” you pointed out and Haz nodded in agreement. “who else… knows about this?”

Haz cleared his throat. “no, uh only me.” 

Sam had walked into the kitchen. “Only you what? Oh, hi my lovely y/n,” he grinned at you with complicity. 

“Sam, hi.” 

Sam seemed suspicious too. “You know what I’ve been thinking y/n,” he watched you. “Have you lost your sanity, yet? Spending that much time with Tom?” 

You laughed. “I lost it, yes,” you admitted. 

Sam chuckled. “And will you be able to spend 8 hours on a plane with him?” 

You hadn’t thought about it. You had been too busy thinking and deciding your feelings for that idiot that you forgot you were about to spend 7–almost 8 very risky hours with said idiot. Which could either go very wrong or… no, this could only go wrong. You’d either fight or you wouldn’t. And the second one was worse, because you already were on the edge of the abyss, one little push and you’d fall for him. 

It would only take one more kiss to actually make you lose your sanity. 

The heart wants what it wants.

“Okay so I was going to buy you flowers,” Tom said as you’d arrived at the airport. Both of you taking out your bags. Security had met you there.

“Flowers?” You questioned. 

“Yes but I realized you wouldn’t be able to keep them because of airport rules or whatever,” he said 

You frowned watching him. “Why would you buy me flowers?” 

He paused and then smiled at you.  “Because it’s our date, silly.” 

“Our—what?” 

Tom grinned. “Our date, dumbass.” 

You didn’t say anything. 

And you barely had said anything. Some fans had recognized Tom and he’d taken some pictures with him. The whole world was so in love with him, you knew that. You were nothing special for being one more. 

There has always been something magical about airports for you. There were a lot of stories to be told and different personalities that could be seen at the airport. You’d always found it so interesting, a chance to leave or a chance to come back home. Airports were always a mystery to you, you never knew why people were traveling. Could be holidays,  a breakup, business. People trying to find themselves, people who’ve lost themselves. 

“I figured it out,” Tom said the moment you’d both sat at the lounge. Him with a beer, you with a glass of champagne. 

“Figured what out?” 

“That it should be here, our first date,” he grinned. 

You chuckled. “Forcing me to spend 8 hours with you without a possibility of running away?” You mocked. “Clever.” 

“Yeah, that mainly,” he admitted with a laugh. “But—also, because you’ve always been a fan of airports and planes.” 

You took a sip. “I am.” 

“The stories you said?” He asked. 

You shrugged. “The possibility of going elsewhere, everyone here is for a different reason,” you explained. “Airports are full of stories waiting to be told.” 

He grinned.  “And What will ours be?” 

“Time will tell,” you smirked. 

“I know you y/n, this is… the perfect first date,” he grinned. 

You chuckled. “Is it?” You watched him. “Haven’t been in one for a while, what are you supposed to do on a first date?” 

His fingers hovered over your hand. “Supposed to be making good impressions.”

“Hm, but we already have impressions of each other,” you sassed, lifting your own fingers to brush his. “And not really the best ones.” 

He raised his brows. “Well.” 

“Besides, I don’t want anything that a first date is supposed to be ,” you chuckled. “We can't have a normal first date.” 

“We can’t?” 

“We know each other’s worst side,” you explained.

“But we don’t know the best.” He smirked. 

You laughed. “This is stupid, Tom,” you blushed looking away. 

“Why?” He frowned. “I think we’ve always wanted this.” 

You looked into his eyes. “Well.” 

“I’ve always wanted this,” he finally rested his hand on yours, intertwining his fingers. 

“That’s so cliche, Tommy.” 

“Well didn’t you?” He grinned. 

You coughed. “I thought we hated each other.” 

“And I think we were always keeping up an act,” he shrugged. “Ever since we were kids”

“Ew  no I really thought you were a very annoying kid,” you admitted. “And dumb” 

“But think about it, think about all the moments we’ve had,” he pushed. 

You had been thinking about them lately. “What about them?” 

“We’ve been alone, seems like every time that someone is around we transform but when we see nobody’s around we can be like this,” he brought your hand to his lips. 

You cleared your throat nervously. 

“Did you blush, idiot ?” He teased. 

“It’s the champagne, dumbass,” you took your hand back. 

He laughed, as he pulled the chair closer. “Is it?” 

“You told Harrison,” you tried to change the subject. 

He sipped of his beer. “He figured it out—The horn.” 

You laughed. “Oh.” 

“Yeah, oh.” 

“But nobody else knows right?” You questioned.

“You told James!” He frowned. 

“He told you?” You coughed. “I—didn’t tell him. He figured it out.” 

“We’ve been bad at keeping this a secret, huh?” He grinned.

“But nobody else can know, can you imagine what their reactions would be?” You chuckled.

Tom reached back for your hand. “We don’t have to tell them.” 

“I  guess.”

“Not until we figure it out,” he said as he then shifted his chair to be closer. 

You stared at both his eyes, with a grin. “You won’t freak out then?”

“Freak out?” He leaned over.

“Dunno, every time we’ve been close to catching feelings you pull a stunt,” you brushed his lips with your hand.

“Have I backed away this time?” He questioned, pressing his lips against your finger. 

“Hm. guess not, and maybe that’s what scares me,” you pulled back your hand.

“You’re scared?” He took your Chin in his hand. 

You bit  your lip. “A bit, yeah, but I like you too much to care.” 

A smirk appeared on his face. “You like me?”

You closed your eyes and then tried to stand up but he pulled you back to him, over to sit on his lap. 

“You like me,” he whispered, pressing his forehead against yours. You tried getting out of his grip but he only pulled you closer. 

“No,” you covered his face with your hand, he licked your hand. “Thomas!” 

He laughed.  “You can’t back up now.” 

“I can,” you said smearing his own saliva on his face. 

“Y/N!” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Disgusting.” 

“Your tongue was on my hand,” you complained. 

“It’s been on other parts of your body and you didn’t mind back then,” he sassed with a smug smirk on his face. 

You blushed and nudged him. “Dickhead.” 

“Am I wrong?” He teased again, laughing. 

You smirked, pushing his face away. 

“Am I?” 

You stood up, walking away. 

“Y/N, no! come back,” he sighed. “I was joking.” 

“Getting snacks—“

“I’m the snack here,” he laughed, watching you. 

You walked back to him and pecked his lips, now it was his time to blush. “Real airport snacks, idiot,” you claimed. 

You didn’t know how you both ended up on the floor, your head on his lap as you were tossing m&m’s to his mouth, his hand caressing your hair. You both came up with a game, trying to figure out what everyone else was doing at that airport. 

“Probably a businessman,” you said staring at the man. “He’ll go to Wall Street.” 

“Really?” Tom watched him. “ah, yeah, gives the vibe,” Tom chuckled. “Y/N this game is boring.” 

“You’re boring,” you sat up, barely an inch away from his face. “Well, what else could we do?” 

He didn’t answer as he only looked down at your lips. 

“Idiot.” 

He grinned. “I didn’t say anything!” He laughed, as he pulled you close to him. “We could explore the airport but you are scared of losing the flight,” he laughed. 

“I know you, and you tend to dick around long enough to forget everything,” you pointed out. 

He laughed. “Well what do you suggest?” 

You looked down at his lips. 

“I thought that idea didn’t appeal to you,” he laughed. 

“No it doesn’t,” you admitted, cupping his face and placing a kiss on the edge of his lips. “Or does it?”

He grinned, pulling you in to mound his lips with yours. You’d missed the taste of his lips, and the way he danced them with yours. Bittersweet. 

“Harry was always the worst at pranks,”Tom had pointed out after a while. “Sam was okay.” 

“No, but we were the ones who actually won every time,” you agreed. “But I was crowned the queen of pranks.” 

“You were not.” 

“Do you remember that one time with the cups of water?” You reminded him. 

The first prank wars, early teenage years. You’d filled up his room with cups of water while he was sleeping, the entire room was filled up and he couldn’t get off his bed. Of course he had dropped a few, and his whole room had been flooded. 

He laughed. “But mum got so angry at you.” 

“I still won,” you chuckled. 

“You had to help me clean my room up, and your mum grounded you,” he recalled. “you call that winning?” 

“Yes.” 

“That’s not winning!” He frowned. “If anything I won with the toilet paper one.” 

“So original,” you rolled your eyes. 

“You know when we teamed up against Sam and Harry? Those were the pranks,” Tom laughed. 

“The Oreos one,” you laughed, remembering when Tom and you had taken hours of your day to fill Oreos with toothpaste. 

“Dude when we changed the entire bed with that pool,” he laughed. 

You shook your head. “No that was you and Sam against me and Harry, and that was my bed,” you scowled. 

You hadn’t stopped laughing, remembering anecdotes. Mostly fun. Some not as fun. 

“You realize I did everything I did because I wanted attention?”

You frowned. “You always had everyone’s attention. Correction, you always have everyone’s attention.” 

“But I wanted yours,” he chuckled. “You were never impressed, no, you are never impressed by me.” 

You smiled, knowing that was such a big lie. Did he really think that? 

“You always seem to forget,” you looked at him. “I loved you before the whole world did.” 

He hadn’t expected that. “No, you hated me.” 

“Hate isn’t the absence of love, not in our case,” you reminded him. 

And eventually, you were about to board the plane. 

“Weren’t you scared of planes?” He recalled watching you. 

“No,” you rolled your eyes. But you were shaking. You always were nervous around them, even if you loved them. You couldn’t help but get slightly scared. Maybe that’s all it had been for the past week, maybe it wasn’t the fact that you feared falling in love. 

“Oh my god, you were!” Tom smirked. “Yes, you were.” 

“Can you shut up?” You frowned. 

“Nope,” he laughed. “Oh wait, I’m supposed to be nice now,” he cleared his throat. 

“What?” 

Tom took your hand. “Hey, hey, I’ll be here.” 

“That makes it worse,” you said but squeezed his hand anyway. 

Boarding the plane, he stopped you mid-tunnel. “Y/N, it’s okay.” 

You chuckled. “Just like two minutes ago you were making fun of me, dickhead,” you answered pushing him away.

“But, hey, it’s okay,” he placed his hands on your waist, and then pulled you close to connect your lips against his, for a brief but sweet moment. “It’ll be fine, silly.” 

You only smiled against his lips. 

You noticed how both of you toned down any affection towards each other with the silly nicknames, dumbass, idiot, silly, dickhead. As if that cancelled out the strong feelings. 

You were really on the abyss. 

You found your seats, first class of course. and somehow it made you feel… weird. Spending 7 hours—almost 8 with him. Sam did have a point. And this was a date. How the hell were you going to have a date on this? 8 hours. 

“Okay so I brought this thing again,” Tom mentioned as he pulled out the camera once you were settled. 

“Oh god,” you rolled your eyes. “Why did you even buy it?” 

“You inspired me,” he grinned as he brought it up to his face. You covered the lens. “Y/N,” he pouted. 

“You’re taking away the magic of it.” You chuckled. 

“What?” 

“Ugh, take pictures of more interesting moments.” 

“You Can do whatever you want with your camera,” he frowned. “But I want pictures of you.” 

“Why?” You laughed as you covered your face.

“Because you’re pretty, idiot.” 

“I thought I wasn’t your type,” you pointed out. 

He snickered. “You’re not.” 

Suddenly you frowned and looked at him, he smirked as he then started to get comfortable in his seat, looking through the movies, ignoring your sight. With confusion, you kept watching him as he let out a loud laugh. 

“What?” He grinned. 

“Then why the hell are you trying to date me?” You complained. 

“Oh,” he smirked. “Did you expect me to tell you… you’re my type?” 

You frowned. “Well, no… because I’m not.” 

He grinned. “ I’m not yours either  and yet…” he grinned leaning over to kiss you, you stopped him before his lips could touch yours. 

“How do you know you’re not my type?” You questioned, someone from the flight crew walked over to offer you both a glass of champagne, which Tom gladly accepted and then gave you one. 

“Thomas?” You frowned as he gave you one, too. “Tom?”

“I know you enough, y/n, Timmy was your type,” he said with poison. 

You cleared your throat. 

He chuckled. “See? Timmy was your type,” he continued and you ignored him. “Please, every single guy you’ve dated is Timmy but in different fonts.” 

You let out a chuckle. “-okay but .”

“He was, wasn’t he?” He poked your side. “Please I’ve seen all the guys you’ve paraded around with, all have the same aesthetic and do some artsy shit, the painter, the singer, the photographer.” 

You smirked. “Well, you’re an actor.” 

“But I’m not... aesthetically inclined like them,” he chuckled. 

You watched him. “So you’re convinced you’re not my type.” 

“I know I’m not,” he grinned. 

“Well but you’re... you,” you said, expecting some nice response. 

He smirked with pride. “Yeah, I know, I’m gorgeous.” 

You punched his arm. 

“Oi!” He laughed. “I am.” 

“I was trying to be cute, you dumbass,  and you ruined it,” you complained. 

He rolled his eyes with a grin. “I called you pretty first,” he pointed out. “But okay, fine,” he cupped your face and then planted a long kiss to your lips. “Happy?” He asked, leaving you dumbfounded. 

“No.” 

He faked anger but then grinned as he lifted the armrest to pull you close to him. “You’re such an idiot.” 

“And you’re so stupid,” you grinned as you nuzzled against him. Of course, a flight attendant asked you both to use the seatbelts and all that crap. 

But you were too busy cuddling against him, forgetting you were terrified of planes as his hand was playing with your hair as you were trying to decide the movie you’d be watching. Tom had put up the privacy window and he was still stealing from the snacks you’d bought. 

“We are not watching Far From Home, fartface, ” you complained just after you’d taken off. 

“Why not?” He grinned. 

“I already have your dumb face here I don’t need to see it twice, oh my god, Back to the Future,” you grinned. “Yes!” 

Tom kissed the top of your head. “No,” he answered calmly. 

You sat up. “Why not?” 

“Because I know you have a crush on Marty McFly,” he pointed out, “and I want all of your attention on me, darling.”

You blushed, “you do realize why I had a crush on him, right?” 

Tom scrunched his face. “No, and I don’t wanna know, attention on me, darling.” 

“Prick.” 

You pursed your lips and held back a giggle. You’d always had a crush on Marty McFly because he reminded you of Tom. 

He frowned. “What?” 

“Nothing,” you looked away. “Oh, look backyardigans!” 

“We are not watching that,” Tom rolled his eyes. 

“Why not? You look like Pablo.” 

Tom let out a nervous chuckle. “Is it going to be 7 hours of this?” 

“Did you actually plan out this date?” You asked him. 

He chuckled, “no, but that’s the magic of it, and see? You’ll get to see the sky and you love that kind of shit, and we get to cuddle and there’s fancy food… and who else has had their first date on a plane?” 

You grinned. “You want to cuddle me?” 

“I want to kiss all your stupid face,” he admitted, as his fingers lifted your chin to watch him.

“Hm, I brought my laptop,” you mentioned, looking away. 

“What, you’ve got porn in there?” He asked. 

You flicked his nose. “Dumbass, no, I’ve got… tapes, not that kind of tapes, from when we were kids.” 

He grinned. “Like the actual vids?” 

You pulled out your laptop and scrolled through the files. He only nuzzled against your head. 

“Wait, is that your 18th birthday?” He asked. 

“Maybe.” 

“I recorded those,” he pointed out. “You were wasted!” 

“We are not watching those,” you rolled your eyes. 

He chuckled. “C’mon,” he clicked on one. “Was I Spider-?” 

“Yeah, I think you were here for a few days in London, and then you’d gone to film again, Homecoming I think.” 

“Hello everyone, we’re at y/n’s 18th birthday party, she’s… “ 

“Hi!” You had appeared on camera. 

“How are you feeling y/n?” 

You only giggled.

 “Y/N?” 

You only stared at him. “I think I’m gonna throw up.” 

“Okay, that’s it,” you closed the video. 

He laughed. “You flirted with me that whole day.” 

“I was drunk and stupid.” 

“Are you drunk right now?” He smirked. 

“No, but I’m still stupid,” you laughed. “Hey, no, I have this one.” 

His wisdom teeth had just been taken out, and of course, you’d be one of the first ones to show up. 

“Tom, how are you feeling?” 

“Y/N, you look pretty,” he mumbled. 

“And that, folks, is how we know he’s on drugs.” 

Tom laughed watching himself saying nonsense gibberish. “I feel like you have enough videos to blackmail me.” 

“Oh, I do,” you confessed. “And pictures.” 

And you continued watching videos, some were nice, of memories that had you laughing and some others made you both debate on what exactly had happened. But you both were laughing, and genuinely enjoying it. His hands wouldn’t leave your body, he’d squeeze you every now and then and he’d leave small kisses all around your face. He’d apologize sometimes whenever a video show how big of a jerk he was. 

This was going to be a long trip. 

But it didn’t feel like it. At one point you were barely even talking, just staring out the small window. It was… romantic. Sharing your music. 

“Okay, even if you didn’t plan anything this has been nice,” you admitted. 

He chuckled. “I’m sorry if I didn’t plan anything.” 

You grinned looking at him. “No, really I mean it, this has been… Perfect.” And it had been, and though you didn’t want to admit it. That’s all you really needed. 

“So, what’s your impression of me, so far?” 

You walked your fingers across his chest as he watched you carefully. 

“Mmh,” you looked into his eyes. “Pure of heart, dumb of ass.” 

He laughed. “Sounds good.” 

“Yours?” 

“Idiot with a pretty face,” he answered. “And I want to kiss that dumb face, honestly.” 

And that was what he did, kiss your dumb face. And his lips were probably lying, but you didn’t care, because they tasted so good, and they asked for more, and more. Lips so tasty, so soft and silky, and you hummed against him. His thumbs tracing down your hips and sliding them under your t-shirt. 

You pulled back, but his lips landed behind your ear. God, you were getting turned on only by the bristle of his lips, you hated this. How the hell were you so smitten with the guy who had been a nightmare to you his whole life? 

But you shifted to sit on top of his lap, and you could only listen to him catching his breath in between kisses, as your hands were cupping his face and running through his hair. 

But you couldn’t help thinking about how even if the privacy window was closed, anyone could see you. 

“Tom,” you whispered. 

“What?” 

“We can’t do this.” 

But his fingers were still toying with the hem of your shirt. He sighed, but then he smirked. 

“Don’t you want to go to the bathroom?” He questioned.

You frowned. “Hm? Not really.” 

He laughed darkly. “Y/N.” 

You watched him with confusion. “What?” You gave it a thought. “Oh.” 

“Oh,” he nodded. 

You cleared your throat. 

“Only if you want to,” he said. 

You bit your lip, and then placed a long kiss, giving him the response he needed. 

“I’ll knock three times,” he whispered. 

You carefully made your way to the restroom, it was bigger than whatever airplane bathroom you’d been in. Of course the first class bathroom had its perks but this was… still exciting. You were excited and scared. The bathroom was big. 

You waited for him and then you heard the three knocks. 

You opened the door, and let him in before making sure nobody had seen you. 

“Are we really doing this?” You questioned as you locked the door, but his lips were already on yours as he pushed you against the wall. The place was reduced but it didn’t matter, he pushed his whole body against you as your hands dug into his hair. 

In your mind, there was slight guilt of doing this but that’s what made it exciting, turning you on even more. 

He squeezed your hips as his mouth travelled down to your neck, leaving small kisses on it. His hot breath fanning against you, you felt him snicker against it. 

“It’s okay if you don’t—“he said suddenly looking up but you shut him up, kissing him, slowly. Your tongue slowly sliding in as he moaned slightly. 

Your hands traced its way down his back, your cold fingers making him shiver as they landed down on his cheeks, pulling him even closer to you, as your pulsating body begged for more movement. 

But you felt nervous, for the first time, you felt nervous. Was it the fact that you were miles up in the air? Or the fact that you were both acknowledging you had feelings? Either way, you couldn’t help but smile between each kiss, as you tasted the remaining sweet chocolate from them. 

You didn’t know what your expectations from this particular experience were, a probably dirty even if it looked impeccable airplane bathroom wasn’t the most romantic thing that you could think of. But if you really squeezed your mind through it, you were about to do it in the sky… that could be romantic. 

But you couldn’t stop giggling between kisses, not when his digits were pressing against your waist. And he couldn’t either. 

“Y/N!” He complained holding back his laughs. “Stop—laughing.” 

You burst into more laughter as your head landed on his shoulder. “Fine, sorry… I’ll be sexy.” 

He scoffed with a cackle. “Don’t—say that,” he couldn’t help but laugh with you. 

You covered his mouth. “Sh, they cant find out I literally think this is a crime!” He licked your hand. “Tom! Not again.”

“What is a crime? Laughing?” He questioned. “Because that’s all we’ve done here, y/n.” 

*

You rolled your eyes and then pulled his head close so you were kissing him again. You bristled down your path with your own digits, sketching each and every muscle on his chest and stomach, he groaned against your lips. 

His own hands explored your body, the pad of his fingers lifting up your t-shirt to coldly rub circles on your belly. 

He cupped your breasts, and slowly massaged them. You moaned against him, but then he pulled them back to travel down your sides, gliding them softly. He then pulled back his wet lips from yours, making you open your eyes abruptly. He was staring at you, in a way that he’d never stared before. Making you forget you were in a first class bathroom. Undressing you with only his eyes as you could only see his eyelashes traveling up and down. And he smiled, in that way that was so him. 

You’d jumped down the abyss now, not fallen, you had purposely jumped down. And you wanted him to touch you, right there and right now, your skin burned at his sight. 

You smiled back, as your hands slid down his pants. You craned your neck back allowing him to suck slightly, ever since you’d first slept with him your neck had been covered with remaining tattoos of his lips. Your fingers brushed against his bulge as he pushed with desperation to grind himself against you. You felt him let out a soft giggle against you as his lips went back to yours, he bit on your bottom lip, as his hands went down to pull down your pants, his digits toying with your core. 

You gasped as soon as he had slid his fingers along your folds, you gripped the back of his t-shirt to gain back your composure, as you spread your thighs open for him. His hands left your core as they travelled to the back cupping your ass, lifting you up, you felt his growing shaft right under your pussy and the only friction was doing its sole job. 

With one hand on his shoulder and the other unbuckling him, you were only letting out deep breaths as his eyes wouldn’t leave yours, driven by lust… but it wasn’t lust, he was entranced by you. His movements were slow as he brought his hands back up to your face, delicate sparks as he pushed your hair back. You could feel your pussy pooling your pants but he wasn’t being rough, he only kept peppering kisses, as if he couldn’t get enough. And you couldn’t either, even when the kisses were getting sloppier and wetter, and at some point, it was only smiling against a smile. The only thing you were both saying between heavy breaths were each other’s names. 

You finally pulled down his pants and underpants to reveal his shaft, dripping already. 

“I didn’t—bring—“

“I’m on the pill,” you quickly snapped. “Need you in me, now,” you ordered as he gave in to your orders, he swiped his tip against your clit and then pushed you against the wall as he thrusted into you in one sole movement, you bit down a moan as you shifted against him, helping him find the spot where you needed him. 

He bit down his lip, as your hands grasped to his back. Between sloppy and messy kisses he started to pump into you at a steady and slow pace, you were digging your nails down his skin as each thrust was getting harder, and deeper. Digging into your body as you tried not to be loud. 

Gentle gasps were leaving your lips as his own lips ere glued to your neck, as he frantically tried to silence himself too. You only felt the cold wall pushing each time against your back. 

One of his hands found your waist while the other rested against the cold wall to steady his rhythm, as you were tightening against him, tiptoeing with one leg as you tried to gain balance. 

The electricity between each thrust and each kiss was summoning you into a deep state of pleasure, as you messily tried to grab onto his whole body, lifting your digits to every possible inch of his body that you could reach. 

This was wrong, right? Then why the hell did it feel so good? At that precise moment you didn’t care if he was planning to break your heart. He could take it and crush it and cut it and you wouldn’t care. 

You rolled back your eyes as you curled your toes as he hit the right spot with every thrust. 

He lifted you and moved you against the sink, he changed his pace as you angled your hips, bucking against him. His lips leaving kisses on your shoulder as you arched your back, him rolling his own hips against yours. 

“Fuck, Tom,” was all you could say.

You panted against him as your eyelids were shutting down. As you tried to shift his hand found your core, circling and toying with your clit, helping you build up the already coming orgasm. 

He surged from your neck to go back to your lips as he knew you were close, you barely could kiss him back as his finger rubbed faster against you. You hang from a built moan that was begging to come out but you had to keep shut. 

“Tom,” was the only thing you could barely chant as you rode down your high, his lips hitting down the bottom of your lip as he was staining his clothes with sweat, pushing against you, each time sloppier, stuttering thrusts. 

“Y/N, fuck—“ was all he could said as he came undone. You felt him filling you, as you pursed your lips, shutting any noise that could come from. 

Between heavy breaths he could only connect your lips with his, barely reciprocated lips as you tried to steady your breath out. 

He pulled out as he kept staring at you, his face glimmering with sweat but a big smile was across his face..

*

You watched him and then couldn’t help but laugh again. 

“Y/N!” He rolled his eyes, but chuckled. 

You smirked. “I can’t believe we just did that.” 

“We just joined the mile high club,” he smirked back as he then pulled you back to him. 

“We should probably go back, they might notice.” 

You both cleaned yourselves up and then you walked back to your seat first of course, not forgetting before giving him one last kiss, feeling like everybody was watching you. They weren’t but of course, your brain was precisely thinking that. 

When he walked back to you, he kissed you again. 

“Easy, I am not doing that again,” you warned him. 

He laughed. “I never thought I’d join that club,” he commented. “At least you’re not scared of planes anymore.” 

You snickered nudging him. “Shut up”

He coughed. “You think anybody noticed?” 

You had pulled up the privacy window yet, as q woman was staring at you. “Yes.” 

He laughed. “Bummer.” 

“I don’t do that on first dates,” you mentioned.

“I know, you do it before even dating,” he teased. 

“Dickhead,” you playfully smacked his arm. 

He took the pillow he had behind him and playfully hit you with it. 

“What is wrong with you!” You laughed and then took your own pillow to use it as a weapon. 

However, the flight attendant had come in, of course, she tried not to make a face at two grown adults having a pillow fight on first-class seats. 

She announced your meals or whatever, you tried not to laugh as Tom was trying to keep a straight face. 

You ate and then ended up cuddling again, you ended up watching Back to the Future, against Tom will, and as you were, both of you were trying to find excuses to kiss in between the scenes. He drifted away, holding you close, and you stared at him, his face being more interesting than the sky that was coming from the window.  You thought about his box. Because you’d already jumped down the abyss.   A box full of secrets and full of memories, a box that told the story of how despite everything, you loved him. And you probably didn’t mind. 

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[anonymous0writer]

Dial Tones II JJ Maybank

Author: @anonymous0writer​

Warnings: Alcohol use. Some bad self image. All characters have been made 18+ and for this, I imagined them in college and living on their own.

Requested: Yes!

“Omg I would love it if you wrote for the obx cast! You are such a talented writer! And you are definitely not annoying anyone with the spamming. You are filling the void during this quarantine ❤️ could I also request a songfic for JJ x reader based off 3 AM by Halsey?”

A/N: I love Halsey, and these songfics are giving me life. Ugh, I love writing based off songs sm. Also, anon, you are an angel! <3

This is really sad, like super sad I was like shit, girl you need help when writing, and the reader has kinda a lot of issues, but I was going off the lyrics. 

Song lyrics look like this

Darling, I just left the bar And I've misplaced all my credit cards My self preservation and all of my reservations Are sitting and contemplatin' what to do with me, do with me

You stumble, blinded by the alcohol surging in your veins. Your hands dart out, catching your fall as you lean against the brick wall of the bar. The rough building material scratches at your hands. You take a deep breath, smiling like a fool due the one thing and one thing only. The heavy intake of sharp alcohol. Tomorrow you’d be in a world of hurt, but your brain was too muddled and everything seemed too light for you to worry about it.

At the back of your mind hung the memories and words you tried to push away so desperately. The words that made you tip the shot back a little farther. There was nothing in particular, but every relationship, every emotion hinged onto them were enough to make you want to pass out drunk. 

A sob rises in your throat, but you swallow it down, your vision going blurry. The shapes of cars speeding past and the silhouettes of people blur, the edges bleeding like water to ink.

The pads of your fingers scrape against the brick, making them go raw as you stumble along the wall, fighting the sobs and the storm of feelings catching up to you. This was the exact thing you tried to hold back, but the laughs turned into cries so easily it was hard to tell which one was which.

Think I took it way too far And I'm stumbling drunk, getting in a car

You fumbled for the keys to your car, tears burning at the back of your eyes. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you wince as the car’s light flashes and cut into the fog of your brain, searing through your thoughts. You took it too far this time. Drunk too much, drowned your storm of thoughts and feelings in the deeper pit. You had fallen off the edge too many times and here you were, fumbling to get the car door open just to sit in it and cry. 

Of course you took it too far. Isn’t that what you always did? 

My insecurities are hurting me Someone, please come and flirt with me I really need a mirror that'll come along and tell me that I'm fine

You glared, eyebrows slanting over your eyes. Nasty thoughts relating to your body or personality attacked, burning your skin as they hit. They were like mosquitoes, nasty and just there to feed. And of course, you could only stop a few until you gave up, waking up the next morning with the aftermath marring your skin. 

The mirror stared back at you, your twin glittering in the light. The girl was glaring back, equally mad about the way you looked. About the way your hips curved in the dress, and the way your stomach popped out, dress doing nothing to smooth over it.

You closed your eyes, feet curling into the carpet as you twisted around, refusing to continue searching for imperfections. You just needed to get to the club, see your friends and find a half drunk man to flirt with to forget the girl in the mirror. 

I do it every time I keep on hanging on the line Ignoring every warning sign Come on and make me feel alright again

“No, don’t do it,” Kiara shook her head, watching you with saddened eyes as your phone was clutched in your hand. His familiar name and face was waiting to be summoned as your finger hovered over the call button. 

Your jaw flickered as you debated. The few shots in your system said hell yes, the broken part of yourself asked to hear his words in a small voice as the sober you screamed not to. It wasn’t smart, that was sure, but you couldn't help the need to hear the gruffness of his voice when he woke up, or the softness of his voice when he was tired, or the smirk in his words as he eyed you. You felt the need to hear his voice and picture him as he talked to you, only for him to hang up too soon and a hollow feeling pooling in the cavity of your chest. 

You didn’t even process it as your finger pressed on the screen and the call was dialing, waiting on the edge of your seat to see if he’d even pick up. 

You ignored Kiara’s cry of protest and Sarah’s huff of pity. You didn’t want to see the look on their faces as he hung up and left you worse than before. You didn’t want to feel the way Sarah slid her arm over your shoulders and pulled you close. You didn’t want to hear the soft words from Kie’s mouth, telling you to move on and find another one. Because if you found someone else, they’d just do what every other man did. Love and leave. Love and leave. It was a vicious circle, but it was easier to fall back into the routine of drunk calling him instead of having your hope rise as you found another. So you ignored the warning signs. 

You snapped back as the dial tone rang into your ear, stark and buzzing. He let it run through.

'Cause it's 3am And I'm calling everybody that I know And here we go again While I'm running through the numbers in my phone

You were seated in your bed, hair messy and clothes in disarray from the constant tossing and turning as your brain wouldn’t turn off. So you restored into what you always did. Call. Phone in front of you, screen glaring its ugly light to illuminate your face. Hands shaking as they reached for the next number. Which you paid attention to. You’d always call, still in your thoughts or exhausted when you ran through the list of numbers. But you were always alert when your finger passed over his number. 

Your eyes stared so hard at the ten digits they swum across the screen. You blinked, eyelashes brushing against your pale cheeks. Your fingers reached for the call button, hands trembling like they always did this late. 

The pad of your finger touched the number. Your room swelled with the ring of the dial tone, and you held your breath. Hoping.

I need it digital 'Cause, baby, when it's physical I end up alone, end up alone

“Hello?” His voice broke through the calm of your room, making your eyes dart to the screen. He had picked up.

 “Hi,” Your voice rose and broke, the quiver of your hands seeping into your voice. 

“Y/N.” 

His voice sounded tired and disappointed. He wasn’t happy to see you calling- not like the way your heart rose when it showed he picked up. Your face fell, heart crashing into your stomach, the remainder of your barely intact heart falling to pieces, joining the graveyard of the others. You swallowed, emotions bubbling in you so fast it made you dizzy. 

“I’m sorry,” You words were whispered, barely carrying through the phone meeting his ear. “I’m so sorry.” 

By now you didn’t even know what you were apologizing for. Forcing him away? Calling him repeatedly? When you were drunk? When you were plagued with your own mind? For begin so easy to break? For giving him a broken heart? For not being able to love yourself no matter what anyone thought? For letting your thoughts kill you slowly? For scaring him off? No matter what it was, you were sorry.

“Stop.” He begged, and your glassy eyes snapped to the phone. Your trembling hands clenched the sheets. “Please stop. Don’t do this again.” 

Another ‘sorry’ escaped your lips. 

“Stop crying, Y/N. Pick yourself up. Move on. Take care of yourself and get help.” The familiar soothe of his words easing your mind and heart. Your thoughts dropped, recoiling away into the corners of your mind. Your lips parted but no words came spilling. 

“You need to help yourself. You have to stop throwing yourself into relationships when you’re so broken. Y/N, please.” 

Your eyes fluttered closed and you took in his words, letting them soak into your skin, soothing the burns of your destructive thoughts, holding up the broken parts of your heart and making you warm. The power of his voice was enough to allow you to sleep. But his voice faded and he hung up. The call ended, leaving you laying on your back, blankets surrounding you in a halo, eyes staring at your ceiling blankly. Breathes pulling and exiting your chest, making a soft hum in the dead quiet of your darkened room. 

Loving someone in the real light. Physically, mentally- that was hard. Digitally was easier, allowing you to have some distance. Phone calls and texts allowed you to not throw your shit on them. No matter what you did. No matter the calls or the hugs- you always ended up in your room, breathing shallow and wall the only thing entertaining. You always ended up alone.

Every night I wanna live in color through a white-blue screen I got a technicolor vision going vivid in my white-blue jeans I know it's complicated 'cause everyone that I've dated Says they hate it 'cause they don't know what to do with me, do with me

Nights were the best and worst. Early nights, where you danced your feet sore, sang your throat raw and drank your brain fuzzy. But late nights were the opposite. Staring the ceiling until your eyes unfocused, listening to the stuffy silence, the dial tone ringing in your ears along with the countless calls not taken.

But tonight was a good night. Kie and Sarah were with you, laughter and fun in higher doses than the alcohol. You three were crammed into the dance floor, the music so loud it was practically pulsing through the floor, making the vibrations shiver in your bones. 

The lights of the club were alive and bright, the colors flashing and moving to the beat of the music, casting shadows and lights across your skin. Red and blue and then purple danced across your body, chased by the slashes of orange and the dots of yellow. 

You loved living like this, the beat of the music in your bones, the colors of the lights flashing across your skin in wild patterns. When you danced with your best friends, laughter loud and smiles true bright. 

But you usually weren’t like this. You liked the calm of the take out sitting on your balcony and staring at the city. You were complicated and what you liked changed all the time. You would want to stay out all night for a second, and the next you’d want to curl up in bed and watch movies. Your mind flipped and switched constantly, confusing the boys in your life. You were complicated. And they hated it. Hated the way you changed your mind and were so broken. And they made sure you knew it. They didn’t know what to do with your changing mind and dark thoughts and broken heart. So they did what the last one did. Left.

I need it digital 'Cause baby when it's physical I end up alone

You smiled softly, your tears drying and the edges of your mouth tilting up. You sniffle and listen to the video over, hands easing in their constant shaking. You closed your eyes, listening to the hum of his laugh and the crinkle of his eyes as he grinned. You opened your eyes again, watching the clip with a bittersweet taste on your tongue.

The camera flipped and dropped as his arms encircled your waist, pulling you into his lap as you giggled. 

“JJ!” Your voice was high and bursting with joy. His face was lost into the crook of your neck, and when he looked up, his eyes found the camera. 

Your breath shortened at the light hitting his eyes and lighting up the cerulean color. His eyes were beautiful. 

The boy reached forward, “Are you taping me, baby?” You giggled and tried to wiggle out of his grip. 

You jumped up, and the boy pouted. “Where you goin’, pretty girl?”

“I have your gift!” You grinned, and the camera showed off JJ, his hair somewhat tamed and his lips tugging into a grin. 

The camera flashed as you quickly got the small, gray box. You shoved the small gift into his hands and urged him to open it. 

“Open it, J!” You urged, the camera still focused on him and his anticipated reaction. You held your breath as his quick hands worked on the ribbon. It came undone, falling to the floor as the boy eased the box open. 

In it lay a shark tooth necklace, carefully coiled. JJ’s grin widens, splitting across his face and you clap your hands, the camera shaking. 

“Do you like it?” You ask as his fingers undo the tight coil and play with the beads. His eyes flicker up to meet yours. 

“Of course. I love it.” He grins and loops the necklace around his neck. 

You close your eyes as the video continues, loud laughter and admiration from the blue eyed boy playing loudly. You soak in the loud laughter of a happier time. You wonder briefly if he still wears the necklace, or if he even still has it. You’d given it to him after he admitted how ‘badass a shark tooth would look’ around his neck. 

You open your eyes, a small tear trickling from your eye and making a small river down the plain of your cheek. Your eyes find the video, where it stops on JJ’s face, grin wide and teeth flashing, eyes lit by the sunlight and a new necklace worn proudly around his throat.

You stare at it, marveling over that time. 

He really was everything.

[irontinystar]

“Hi, Tony”, Steve croaked, his hand now resting on the cold surface of a marble gravestone, “were you waiting for me?”

His words came out clear in the silence of the moment, broken only by the swift waves that crushed on the water edge.

Tony’s grave was something that for a long moment he didn’t even want to think about: the mere thought of the cold body of the man laying under a ton of dirt in the obnoxious darkness of a coffin used to cause him a deep and piercing pain in his old heart, that usually led him not to sleep for several nights straight.

But that early morning, when he had finally decided to go visiting Tony, Steve knew it was the right moment, that perhaps waiting was worth it, because he had not previously been ready to actually see and feel what was standing near him; a pale and glacial marble commemorative plaque erected among scrubs with a few sentences engraved on its surface:

“In loving memory of Tony Stark A fond husband, a caring father, a goodhearted friend.”

(...)

Goodhearted friend: yes, yes he was.

“Tony”, Steve screeched, looking at the ocean “for so many years, so much time, I convinced myself you had said meant to be. I know you did, did you?”

He sniffed a little “but what about now? It looks like we weren’t after all…” A seagull flied upon his head, in the middle of that painfully clear sky.

“Do you remember our first kiss?”, he muttered now smiling softly, “I still recall it when I feel sad. I think that is one of my happiest memories”.

It was a late evening when it happened. He was standing on the rooftop of the Avengers’ tower, looking at the night sky and the few stars that were slightly shining in the darkness. He had heard someone approaching him, and when he had turned around he had found Tony standing beside him.

Lately they had got along very well, and Steve had discovered that they were really a powerful duo when they decided to cooperate instead of arguing and fighting over everything.

He had learnt to understand Tony, the reason why he always had to laugh everything off with a joke just to prevent himself from getting hurt; the way his look darkened whenever someone hyped up the accomplishments of his father; how he was able to deliver motivational speeches when things seemed to be hopeless. He actually enjoyed finding out little details of Tony’s personality that no one else seemed to notice.

For the first few moments they talked about the mission they had undergone that day: Tony was really enthusiastic and while he was describing some particular scientific project he had found in the lab that they had to sequester, Steve found himself caught with the way the man was moving his hands, and how his eyes seemed to sparkle. He smiled involuntarily in complete awe as he felt his heart growing three sizes.

“Cap’?! Hey! You listenin’?” Steve came back to his senses and tried to shake off the expression of amusement he must have had on his face.

“What?”, he asked in confusion “yeah, of course. Keep going”.

Tony frowned “Were you listening, Cap’?” For a moment he seemed concerned, as if Steve was really minding his own business.

“Yes, I told you so! Coordinates, numbers, technological stuff… go on”, he mocked, then added “just, you know, don’t call me Cap’. You can call me Steve.”

“Oh, I’m sorry!” Tony apologised, laughing a little “I thought only friends were allowed to call you by your birth name.”

Steve shook his head now grinning, “we are friends, Tony”. He rolled his eyes, asking himself why the man always pretended to humble himself.

A brief silence followed Steve’s reassurance, then Tony raised his brow looking thoughtful. “Really? Friends?”, he asked, absorbed “thought friends didn’t look at each other like this”.

Steve’s heart lost a beat as he nervously mumbled “like what?!”. At the same time he regretted asking.

“Like you want to take off my clothes”.

Steve blushed intensely and his heart began racing at a very high speed. He felt like he had been caught off guard as he began stuttering “I don’t- I do not- I don’t want to-”

“What?” Tony asked innocently trying to force Steve into explaining himself further “what is that you do not want?”

“I don’t want to- you know what”, he affirmed angrily, his cheeks burning like fire.

“Actually, I don’t” Tony kept on teasing him.

Steve rolled his eyes once again, this time with a sense of frustration “Why do you always have to act like this, Stark?!” He was feeling really annoyed by his attitude, but at the same time his heart was beating faster and faster as he tried to calm down himself, also hoping Tony wouldn’t notice his quite undeniable blush.

“Oh, so now we’re no longer friends?” Tony looked clueless, while pointing at the two of them “Stark seems quite of detached, if you ask me”, he mumbled thoughtful.

“You know what I meant”, Steve repeated. He drew closer to Tony with an expression of annoyance and lowkey anger because of the embarrassment he had put him in.

Tony approached him too, his brow still raised “You keep saying it but I really don’t know what you’re talking about.” He chuckled a little, then proceeded further “honestly, I don’t even get why you’re always so stiff: just relax a little bit, perhaps?!”

Steve got now more irritated as he kept on pointing his eyes upon himself or on the ground just to avoid looking Tony in his eyes “I’m not stiff”, he stated angrily “Actually, you are the problem, you know?”

Tony looked interested in this change of pace so Steve added “Yes, Stark. You are the problem. Wanna know why?”

Tony mumbled out an enlighten me, but Steve was already talking without waiting for his permission “Things wouldn’t be so complicated if you just acted like a normal human being, you know, just knowing when it’s the right time to laugh or- or- to joke about a situation, or, I don’t know, make a pun or something. No, you always have to make fun of everything, always have to embarrass people just to make your ego grow bigger as if it was some kind of accomplishment.”

“Huh- looks like someone is stressed out”, Tony teased once again.

“This! This is it! You’re doing it once again!” Steve snapped, opening his eyes wide “I can’t stand you!”, he almost shouted, and he seemed so out of himself that he started to ask himself what really was the problem.

“I swear I do not understand what is that I’m doing!”, this time Tony raised his voice, getting closer to Steve and actually looking like he couldn’t get what he was getting wrong.

Steve looked him in the eyes, not able to look away now that the man was standing so close that he could almost feel the heartbeat of Tony and not just his own.

“You-” he stuttered “You’re always- flirting or something”.

“Flirting?!” Tony chuckled “I was joking! You know, two friends kidding around. Nothing sexual, buddy.” He looked really satisfied with his reply, and he grinned naively when Steve flushed once again.

“Well- I don’t like this kind of jokes, so I’m asking you to stop.”

At this point Tony got rid of his look of innocence and just straight up snorted “You know what, Rogers? I’m tired of you, you’re so boring. People can’t even dare to say something funny around you because you’d look them with that look of disappointment of yours. When you enter the room, we have to cut off every fun we were having and just pretend to be all serious and focused on whatever the hell of a mission we are doing because God forbid we’re enjoying ourselves.”

Tony looked a little heated up as he was pointing his finger at Steve’s chest “Wanna know what more? I have tried so so hard to entertain you, to make you laugh or something, even smile, but nope! You can’t even do that, because everything -everything- is deadly serious to you!” He rolled his eyes and kind of laughed in distress “And now you have just made me be so rude to you, you have created this whole drama just because you couldn’t repeat -as a damn joke- that you wanted to rip off my clothes!”

“What-?! No!” Steve yelled “That is not true!” He felt quite hopeless, almost shaking with his face burning.

“Yes, yes it is true!”

“That is not- I-”

“Then what, ‘Cap?! What?! What is it?” Tony approached him even more, as he kept pointing at him with a kind of rage in his voice “Huh? Wanna tell me what it is? Or am I making you uncomfortable?!”

“Shut up!” Steve shouted, now so close to the man in front of him.

“Make me”.

He looked into Tony’s eyes for a second, wanting to punch him in the face just to show him who was the boss down there, so he pulled Tony by his shirt, and for a moment the man seemed kind of concerned, but Steve erased that look of dismay from his face when he pressed his lips on his mouth with such rage that he amazed his own self.

At first Tony startled but once Steve opened his mouth to deepen the kiss, the man just let it go and surrendered to the blonde’s tongue.

Steve’s rush was something unexpected to Tony and in any other time he would have not allowed him to take the control of the situation, but the way that usually prim man was now grabbing his legs to lift him on his hips made him forget any purpose of standing up for himself.

Steve seemed astonished too by his own initiative, considering that until the very last moment he wanted to just straight up hit the man in his face, and now, while he was tasting Tony’s mouth and holding his back with his hands, he quite thanked himself to have sticked to a more peaceful way to assert himself.

“I was actually hoping for you to do this a long time before, Steve”, Tony mumbled, his lips red because of the heat of the kiss, his eyes glimmering of lust.

Steve grinned, looking him in the eyes: he had fantasised about this for so much time, but he had always admonished himself that it was not going to happen, that they were just friends and that the man was friendly with anyone so he shouldn’t let it go to his head.

But being able to actually feel Tony on his own lips; to look him in the eyes at such little distance; to hear Tony’s heartbeat racing that fast and knowing that he had caused that rush, made him understand that perhaps, sooner or later, he would have found himself in that situation no matter what: it could have been a year before, or it could have been a day after, or even in a remote future, but the two of them would have found their way to each other anyway.

“Why you standing there just smiling and looking at me like I’m some kind of a baby?!” Tony pouted, faking grudge “act like a man and kiss me again, damn!”

Steve cackled and looked him in the eyes once again glad that he could deal with such a touchy man. He kissed Tony softly, then changed his look into a more resolute one. “I’m gonna take off your clothes” he stated, and while Tony was heavily letting out a thanks God, they were kissing once again.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20414500

[cuppalevi]

Blue Guitar | Chapter 2: Dinner’s On You

Series Summary: Leone Abbacchio's trying his best to get his shit together for Narancia. But when Narancia ends up inviting him to a concert he's playing for, Leone ends up under the sheets of the popstar, Bruno Buccellati. It turns out dating a popstar has complications. Especially when a certain someone named Diavolo has tricks up his sleeves.

Chapter 2 Summary: Leone Abbacchio arrives at Bruno’s concert, only to be completed fascinated by the singer. He promptly meets the band, and gets flirted by Bruno. 

Fandom: Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure

Pairing: Leone Abbacchio x Bruno Buccellati

AO3 Link | Previously | Masterlist

“How are we doing so far tonight? Are we good?” Bruno took the microphone off from the stand it was placed and grasped it within his hand. He walks around the stage, waving a hand towards the crowd before him, a bright smile on his lips. The singer was clad in glittered, iridescent, light blue pants. A sheer white suit with ruffles upfront adorned his torso, showing off the black lace of his undergarment. All the while a shiny, heeled, black Christian Louboutin completed the outfit he wore.

Bruno’s under the spotlights, illuminating his whole figure and showcasing the singer to the audience in front of him. He’s charismatic, in words and in movement. When his band had started playing the first tunes to his opening song had started playing and he was waiting for his moment to come out to the stage, he clutched the handle of his microphone- a sleek white with black teardrops design which he had custom made- soft breaths leaving his lips as the rush of adrenaline had slowly come over him. And when it was his cue, all anxiety just drifted away and sheer euphoria flooded his veins as he started singing in sync with the tune.

The crowd before him cheers, waving their hands wildly. Bruno’s chest feels warm at the overwhelming attention he’s getting. Life on stage was the best part of being a musician. The adrenaline he gets from being upstage, hearing the screams of people, singing his songs as he moved to the beat. It was exhilarating.

Although, the handsome man upfront surely caught his attention.

Narancia seemed more anxious about the concert than Leone had expected. A few hours ago, Narancia was frantic. Running from the kitchen, his bedroom, the living room- pretty much the whole apartment basically- to make sure he did not forget anything. Moody Blues grumpily hissed at Narancia when the cat awoke from her nap due to the teenager’s feet shaking the floors of their apartment as if an earthquake was happening. Leone had to reassure Narancia a thousand times, all the while Moody Blues tried to resume her nap.

Leone did not have high expectations for the concert. He just wanted to watch Narancia rock his guitar. Before Buccellati climbed up the stage, the band first settled in. When Narancia had entered the stage with two other guys, his eyes immediately started to scan the crowd- eagerly wanting to see Leone. The teenager had frantically waved with a massive grin on his face when he had spotted Leone’s silver hair among the crowd.

The adult chuckled at Narancia and waved back at him, a warm feeling filling his chest.

But what he didn’t expect was to see the charming man, Bruno- whom he had met in the grocery shop after his squabble with Giorno, upstage singing in front of him. From the moment Bruno had revealed himself onstage with dancing lights above him, least to say he was stunned to see the view before him. Who knew that Bruno from the grocery store was the Buccellati Narancia was working for? Certainly not Leone.

Leone hadn’t been to many concerts. He’d rather put up his headphones and get lost in the music of Monteverdi. But today, this- wholly, beautiful man that’s got Leone into some sort of trance that’s gotten him lost in nothing but Bruno’s voice- it’s exhilarating. He’s irrevocably captivated. The tone of the singer’s voice sends deep chills down his spine and he’s pulled in to listen for more.

“Before we near the end of today’s show, I wanna give a massive thank you to my incredible, incredible band!” Bruno splayed out a hand and presented the band behind him, multiple spotlights falling on the boys who were bringing life to the instruments they were playing.

A grin is plastered on Bruno’s face as he presented Narancia to the crowd first, “A recent recruit of mine and my wonderful guitarist, Narancia Ghirga!”

The spotlights fell onto Narancia. The teenager waved to the crowd, full of enthusiasm. In return, the audience before him cheered. Leone’s lips twitched into a smile as he looked at Narancia fondly, warmth seeping through his chest. Damn, he’d never felt any prouder than he was before.

Narancia is wearing a black t-shirt which was tucked in grey wide-legged pants and black loafers that had a big, gold ring in front as design. But what really was eye-catching was the glittered light blue bandana he wore on his head. The bandana matched Bruno’s trendy trousers.

Leone looked over to the drummer as Bruno introduced him, “My great and amazing drummer, Guido Mista!”

Guido Mista was sitting behind the array of drums but he stood to his feet and stepped out from his set of drums and bowed with his hand outstretched when Bruno called his name. Mista is dressed in a solid black, cropped turtleneck sweater. A beanie of the same color sat on his head, an arrow pointed downwards on his forehead. However, the turtle-necked collar, the hem of the sleeves, and the color of the arrow of his beanie also happened to be glittered and light blue that also twinned Bruno’s trousers.

“Of course, last but not least. My skilled and marvelous keyboardist, Pannacotta Fugo!”

Pannacotta Fugo had dirty blonde hair that fell behind his back ever so gracefully. His face only showed a twitch of a smile and a gentle wave to the crowd. Leone had to keep a snicker when he saw that Fugo’s black suit was riddled with holes and strawberry earrings dangle freely. He thought that the boy looked ridiculous. And surprisingly, the necktie he adorned matched Bruno’s pants as well.

“Wow, fashionably coordinated, huh.” Leone murmured under his breath.

Bruno walked back in front of the microphone stand and attached the microphone back to its stand before speaking once more. “This is: Adore You.”

The lights dim a little bit, Mista starts thrumming his drums at a pace. Fugo’s fingers start pressing down on the keys and Narancia’s strumming his guitar with the chords of the song. Bruno’s foot starts tapping to the beat, bobbing his head to the sound, eyes shut as he starts singing, “Walk in your rainbow paradise,”

Narancia, Fugo, and Mista sing a back-up of, “Paradise,” and it amazes Leone how their voices mesh together in a perfect melody that accompanied Bruno’s voice so well.

“Blueberry lipstick state of mind,” Bruno’s eyebrows furrow as he sings into the mic.

Then the lyric is followed by the trio harmonizing, “State of mind.”

“I get so lost inside your eyes,” Bruno’s eyes subtly scan the array of people in the area in front of him. It wasn’t that hard to spot the pair of eyes he wanted to see as the owner of those eyes belonged to a man with hair white as snow. “Would you believe it?”

Bruno Buccellati, a kind, and compassionate soul. He was adored by many due to his songs. His overall aura just draws you to him. Bruno lived in the coastal suburbs of Naples with his mother and father. His father worked as a humble fisherman. When his mother had sung him a lullaby instead of the usual bedtime stories, he was instantly enthralled by the way his mother sang. It was then he developed an interest in singing.

“You don’t have to say you love me. You don’t have to say nothing, you don’t have to say you’re mine.”  

Even when his parents divorced, his passion for singing never wavered. His father was determined to give Bruno a good education so he started taking tourists on his boats to earn more. Bruno would entertain the tourists by giving them a song number he practiced the day before. Consequently, it earned him a good amount of lire which he put into his savings.

“ Honey, ” Bruno sang, taking the mic off its stand and walking around the stage.

Collectively, the three band members sang, “ Ah, ah, ah, ah, ”

“ I’d walk through fire for you, just let me adore you, ”

Leone used to think that nobody could match the likes of Monteverdi. Just like how no movie could surpass Sling Blade, in his opinion. But watching Bruno sing his heart out in front of him. And the charming smile the singer puts on his face while he gazes to the crowd. Leone thought, maybe Monteverdi won’t be the only artist he’ll be listening to after this.

“ Like it’s the only thing I’ll ever do, ” Bruno finishes the first chorus. He proceeds to walk around the stage, waving to people.

Bruno was found by Polpo who worked for the management, Passione. After being able to save up for his education, Bruno started working a part-time job in a local pub where he would stand in front of tipsy people and sing songs. Coincidentally, Polpo had been looking for a client. He offered Bruno a chance at becoming an artist. It took Bruno a couple of days to consider the man’s offer. He didn’t want to leave his father all alone when he was off chasing his dreams. But his father encouraged him to take it.

“You’d make a proud man,” His father had told him.

So here he was now. Pouring his heart out with every ounce of his being to the songs he had written.

Bruno stops in a particular spot at the stage, which just happened to be right in front of Leone. “ Your wonder under summer skies, ”

“ Summer skies, ” The three band members sing.

“ Fair skin and lemon over ice, ” A twitch overcomes Leone’s lips as he meets Bruno’s eyes.

He feels entranced when Bruno shoots him a subtle wink. Like he can’t seem to take his eyes off of him.

“ Would you believe it? ” Bruno tilts his head in question as if he was asking Leone.

Leone bites back a chuckle, pressing his lips together. He looks around him to see if anyone saw their interaction, but everyone else was lost in Bruno’s singing. Bruno starts his pre-chorus again, but he stays in that particular area of the stage. His body moves to the rhythm of the song, his head is swaying with the melody. The ends of his hair are dancing along with him, whipping against his head back and forth. And his right foot, simultaneously in sync.

“ It’s the only thing I’ll ever do,” Narancia, Fugo, and Mista sing the lyric repeatedly as the song’s bridge. They sing it a number of times as they play their instruments. Bruno’s feet bring him to different parts of the stage as he awaits the finishing lines. But before the bridge finishes, he quickly pulls the microphone stand and drags it toward that spot.

Just as the last chorus began, he swiftly places his microphone back on the stand and opens his mouth. “I'd walk through fire for you, just let me adore you.”

He knows Leone’s eyes are on him, but he doesn’t return the gaze this time. Instead, he shuts his eyes, grasping the thin body of the microphone stand. His other hand stays on the mic. “Oh, honey. I’d walk through fire for you. Just let me adore you.” He continues singing the chorus until it eventually comes to the finishing lyrics.

But for the last lyric of the song, he opens his eyes and it makes contact with Leone’s, “Just let me adore you.” Bruno places a hand on his heart as he sings, then he points. The crowd goes wild at the action- thinking it was meant for them and their proceeding screams are deafening. But Leone knows it was meant for him.

--

Leone’s pulled by Narancia’s hand through the hallway that led to the lounge where the rest of the band and Bruno retired too when the concert was finished. He was nervous to see Bruno again, especially after the striking stares a pair of blue eyes had given him when the singer was pouring his heart out on the song. Leone felt as though Bruno was indirectly talking to him through the song. Even with a crowd full of people that came to watch and adore Bruno Buccellati, it was like Bruno was playing the song for him.

When Narancia opened the door, Leone first laid eyes on a certain blonde that brought irritation to his veins. He immediately rolled his eyes when the familiarity struck him and the events at the grocery shop came flashing back in his mind.  

Giorno snickered when he saw Leone come through the door being pulled by Narancia while he leaned against Mista who was munching on a slice of strawberry cake.

“Guys! Guys! Meet Leone Abbacchio!” Narancia announced, two of his hands splayed to present the tall goth, “My foster dad!”

The tall goth received a wave from Mista and a nod of acknowledgment from Fugo. Giorno greeted Leone with a small smile, “ Buona serata. ”

“Buona serata my ass,” Leone murmured, but he slowly realized what Narancia had called him earlier on. His eyebrows raised in surprise as he turned to look at Narancia, “Foster dad? What have you been telling these people Narancia-” But he wasn’t able to finish what he was saying because before he could process what Narancia called him, his arm was tugged once more.

But this time, it was pulled in the direction of none other than Bruno Buccellati himself.

Oh shit, Leone thought, stammering in unsensible words as he tried to stop Narancia but alas, it was already too late since they neared Bruno who was stood by the food table.

“Buccellati! Buccellati!” Enthusiastically, Narancia beamed at the adult in front of him.

Bruno turned his head when he heard Narancia’s voice, first glancing at the teenager himself before settling to the tall male next to him. Gently, he smirked at Leone. “And to whom do I have the pleasure of meeting, Narancia?”

Narancia giggled with a cute grin, pulling Leone close to him like glue. “Buccellati, meet Leone Abbacchio! He’s the one who’s been taking care of me. Abba, meet Buccellati!”

Leone inhaled sharply, swimming in the pools of blue he’s staring at. Without the sunglasses (And standing directly in front of him), Bruno looked so handsome at this proximity. Leone’s able to see his pretty face and the full of his sweetly curved lips. He feels his cheeks flush red when he sees Bruno’s eyes check over his body almost sensually. Fuck, Leone feels weak at the knees under his intense stare.

“Is that so? It’s a pleasure to meet you, Leone, ” Bruno smiles endearingly, eyes looking back at Leone’s while he holds out his hand. The way his name falls out of Bruno’s lips is smooth. The tone of his voice is soft yet it’s deep and penetrating.

“Pleasure to meet you too, Buccellati,” Leone replied, taking Bruno’s hand in his for a shake.

Bruno’s hand feels soft against his compared to his calloused ones. The warmth of Bruno’s hand engulfs his own, and he is almost reluctant to let go. “Bruno’s just fine, bello,” Bruno’s thumb softly rubs at Leone’s knuckles- Leone’s hand still grasped in his- as he gave another one of his award-winning smiles. Narancia’s oblivious to the overwhelming tension between the two adults.

“Oi Narancia! If you don’t hurry I’ll finish the cake myself!” Mista’s exclaim echoes in the room.

Gasping offendedly, Narancia shrills, “You wouldn’t dare!” He turned his head to look at the cake which earlier was whole but was now reduced to two slices.

“Oh, I would!” Mista threateningly taunts Narancia.

“You guys get acquainted! I’m gonna get the cake before Mista eats all of it,” The teen says to the two adults who finally let go of each other’s hands when they heard Mista shout. Before the two could say another word, Narancia is shuffling over the food table to grab a plate and a fork before quickly heading to grab a slice of the cake.

“Did you enjoy the show?” Bruno asks Leone, turning to face the food table. He resumes filling up his plate with a slice of prosciutto.

Leone nods his head, picking at his lacquered nails. “It was good, yeah. You were uh- great up there.”

For a moment, Bruno’s head spins to look at Leone and gives him a smirk, “I’m glad you liked it, bello. You should take a seat.” He nudges the legs of the stool beside him with the toe of his foot.

Politely, Leone takes a seat at the stool. He brushes back a strand of hair behind his ear when it falls to the front of his face as he sits down.

"So you’re Narancia’s guardian?”

Leone hums, “Not legally. The kid ran away from home and all. I just gave him a place to stay.”

“Not foster dad then?” An amused smile overcomes Bruno’s lips.

Chuckling Leone answered, “Nope. Not foster dad.”

Bruno leans against the food table with his back away from the array of food and moves beside Leone. He holds a plate of prosciutto in front of him. “Tell me about yourself, Leone.” Bruno takes a forkful of the food in his mouth as he awaits Leone’s reply.

Leone scratches the back of his neck, “There’s not much to tell and besides, I just met you.” He raised a brow pointedly to which Bruno replies with a chuckle.

“Buon punto, Leone. Surely you remember our encounter in the grocery store? You know, orange thief?”

Leone inwardly groans, rolling his eyes as he remembers an annoying blonde brat. “Hardly makes me a thief. You gave them to me at the end, though. Remember?”

When he came home from the grocery shop, he refused to tell Narancia what had gone down to save himself from the teen’s endless bickering. Ugh, the things I do for you, Leone thought as he handed Narancia the pack of oranges hours before. He was rewarded by repetitious thank yous from the teenager.

Bruno nodded, “Sì, you were quite adamant about getting them for your kid and all.” He flicks his eyes to Narancia.

“Okay, okay. Let’s just- forget about the oranges.” The long-haired man sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

Another hearty chuckle escapes through Bruno’s mouth. “Don’t fret, Leone. I was only teasing. Anyway, have you formally met the others?”

“Not really. All I know is the brat who claimed that I stole the oranges.” Leone huffs, crossing his arms stubbornly.

“That brat is my publicist,” Bruno answers, finishing his plate of prosciutto. “Giorno’s pretty strict and he can be dogmatic at times. But it’s what makes him a good publicist. I apologize on his behalf.”

Leone shakes his head, “It’s fine. It’s over now anyway.”

Humming, Bruno asked, “Say, Leone, are you busy tonight?”

Shaking his head, Leone answered, “Have lots of free time, why do you ask?”

“Hmm… I have a reservation for Ristorante Don Alfonso 1890 to try out their food. Giorno insists I go and have dinner with a friend for the experience because apparently he and Mista had a date there. He said the food was great.” Bruno poured two glasses with iced tea, offering one to Leone.

Graciously, Leone accepts the glass. “You’re… you want me to go with you?”

“I was going to bring mio padre but he told me he was exhausted from working and he rather I’d bring a friend instead,” Bruno explained.

Leone purses his lips in thought. Staring at the iced tea before him. Bruno Buccellati was inviting him to dinner. “Are- are you asking me out?”

Bruno looks at Leone and hums. He shrugs his shoulders, “Maybe. Maybe not.”

It baffles him that someone like Bruno Buccellati would want to invite him to dinner. Bruno could have anyone he wants but instead, he’s asking Leone out for dinner. Leone wasn’t really a romantic person. He’s reserved and closed off, built up walls. Unlike Bruno’s charming and outgoing personality- which people admire- He’s the complete opposite of Bruno.

Bruno’s had his fair share of lovers. Ranging from men and women. But they were all flings. The only long-term relationship he had didn’t last because the press was being invasive with their relationship. Consequently, that led to a break-up. He coped with the aftermath through songwriting and thus, his new album was born.

“As long as there’s good wine, I’m in.” Said Leone. He agrees because he does want to go. He wants to get to know Bruno. Not Bruno Buccellati the pop star, but just simply Bruno. Even without admitting it to himself, he already likes where this is going.

Bruno smiles, “Di molto bene! Wear something nice, bello. I’d very much like to adore you.”

Leone blushes, he opens his mouth to reply however a sudden thud, crack of an object and a shout interrupts them.

“You shit for brains!”

A distorted, out of tune note erupts from the keyboard due to the clenched fist that belonged to Fugo pounded on the instrument. Bruno and Leone’s eyes widen and survey the scene.

Narancia and Mista lay on the floor groaning, the coffee table that used to be in front of the couch was now in broken pieces scattered around and under the two bodies. Giorno’s face is full of shock as he tries to process what the fuck just happened.

Bruno’s sudden snap makes the room go silent, “WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU GUYS DOING?!”

< To Be Continued I \ I |