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diyunho · 7 years

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The Joker x Reader - “The Bucket List”

Two months after breaking up with The Joker, you found out the bad news. You didn’t have a choice but to ask for his help and J didn’t even show up for the meeting. Of course he didn’t care, but now that he heard why you wanted to see him so badly, it might be too late for any amendments.

Part 2: http://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/161379886591/the-joker-x-reader-the-bucket-list-part-2

http://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/161645099431/the-joker-x-reader-the-bucket-list-part-3

“I’m out of here…” you announce, lifting your bag and taking a few steps towards the door. The Joker doesn’t reply, he just watches you in silence, leaning on the back wall of the master bedroom.

“That’s all you want?” he speaks up in a bitter tone when you are almost out of the quarters.

“Yes, that’s all…” you whisper and don’t turn around, continuing your walk. After a few moments, J wants to add something but gives up when he hears the elevator. He knows you’re already gone.

****************

Things went from worse to worst until both couldn’t take it anymore. You were aware he’d never leave the penthouse so you decided to break it off sooner rather than later. You were actually surprised he didn’t try to stop you when you told him about your decision: after all, he doesn’t like people to leave until he says so. You were determined to continue with the plan even he would have attempt to disagree. But he didn’t. Probably happy to get rid of you in such a timely manner. The Joker must have really hated you if he didn’t bother with any kind of reaction.

Oh, well, serves you right for thinking you meant something to him. Lesson learned.

****************

The first time he got a sign from you was after about 2 months. You called and he didn’t answer. It came through as “unknown number” because you weren’t in his contacts anymore, but he had the digits memorized. After about one hour, he received a text message: “Could you please meet me tonight around 10pm at the corner of Spencer’s and North Avenue? It’s really important. Please…I really need to talk to you.”

J deleted the message, upset you bothered him. For some reason though, he decided to go and see what the hell you wanted. He waited in the shadows behind the apartment building, watching you nervously pacing under the street light. You held a few papers in your hand and seemed distressed.

The Joker regretted coming so he stayed hidden, but didn’t leave. You waited for an hour and it began to rain. He could see you were soaked to the bone, still waiting on the almost deserted sidewalk. He was drenched also and didn’t move. You started to cry when you realized he won’t show up, holding up those papers to your chest. After another half an hour passed, you signaled a cab and one saw you right away. J decided to come out, thinking that if you notice him, he’ll talk to you. If not, oh well…

Of course you got into the taxi and didn’t see him approach. He had the perfect excuse for his indifference and you swore never to get a hold of him again. You bawled all the way back to your house, mad at yourself for being such an idiot. Yet, not too many choices at the time. You erased his phone number from your cell and as soon as you got home you smashed the phone to pieces, crying your eyes out since The Joker didn’t want to at least meet you when you really needed his help for once.

******************

After 7 months, J is in a meeting, planning a heist and some transactions on the black market with his old business partner when the conversation steered towards your absence at the negotiation table. Everyone knew you were gone, but Jasper still ran his mouth.

“That’s too bad about what happened to Y/N, hm? How old is she, 35 ? I hope she makes it… Hard to tell with this kind of stuff…”

Your ex is not excited to hear your name. He would love to blow Jasper’s brains, but he’s still needed.

“Don’t push it,” J growls, annoyed, clenching his jaw. The guy lifts his hands up in surrender, not having any desire to irritate the Clown Prince of Crime.

“No disrespect, sir, I was just talking without thinking.”

J keeps on marking locations on the map, absent minded.

“So…what happened to her?” he utters, not lifting his eyes from the important project.

“You don’t know?!” Jasper replies, intrigued.

“No,” J simply answers, sniffling.

“Do you really care to find out?” “No… But tell me anyway!”

*** He debated for a week if he should call you or not. When he finally dialed your digits, the flat message made him roll his eyes: “This number has been disconnected or is no longer in service.”

It took J about 3 more weeks to find your whereabouts. You can easily make yourself disappear under fake identities. Thankfully, The Joker has several ways of using his numerous resources when necessary.

********************

Oh, no! you think when you hear the doorbell. You slowly get up from the couch, dizzy from the monthly IV medication dripping in your veins, one of the treatments you do at home. You grab the IV pole, rolling it towards the door. You bought this house outside the city, not wanting to be bothered. No neighbors around. And you didn’t order any food or supplies to be delivered like you usually do.

“Coming!” you announce, holding on to the wall with your free hand. “Who is it?” you inquire before opening the door.

“Pizza delivery,” the muffled voice answers.

“I didn’t order any pizza,” and you crack the door open. “Shit!” you gasp when you see J standing there and you shut the entrance immediately, locking it.

“Really?!” you hear him and you back out, alarmed. Surprisingly, no knocking or pounding. And it clicks: the sliding glass door on the back porch is opened! You force yourself to walk as fast as you can, difficult since you are hooked to your IV.

“Dammit,” you mumble when you get to the living room and see he already got inside.

“I wasn’t aiming for this reaction,” J frowns, taking a few steps towards you.

“What…what are you doing here?!” you demand to find out since you’re not pleased about his presence. You really don’t need whatever the hell this is right now.

“What’s wrong with you?” he cuts to the chase, not in the mood for chitchatting. Those piercing eyes urge for an explanation.

“Nothing,” you grumble and squeeze the pole harder.

“Doesn’t look like nothing,” he points towards your IV. You sigh, feeling more and more uncomfortable.

“It’s only…only something to slow down the process…”

“What process?” The Joker barks, biting on his cheek.

“The process of me dying too fast,” you serenely admit. He keeps on staring at you, kind of stupefied at how you look: skinny, pale, dark circles under your eyes and he can notice it all since you have no make-up on. Your hair is dark blonde now, still long yet visibly thinned out.

“Nonsense, you’re too young,” he drops on the chair closer to him, crossing his legs.“Who helps you?” he begins another tirade of questions.

“Nobody; I leave alone, away from everyone. I don’t want to be seen like this and I can take care of myself,” you swallow the bitter taste on your tongue, nauseated. All the drugs you take have such awesome side effects. “Is this an interrogation? Because I don’t want to talk nor see anybody. So if you would just leave…” and you nod towards the sliding door he sneaked through.

“Nonsense,” he cuts you off, bouncing his leg on top of the other, impatient. He reaches for the papers scattered on the table in front of him, reading the names of the numerous vials with tablets, capsules and lozenges, aggravated. “Do you have a list of all the stuff you take?”

“Wh-what?! Could you just…just leave please?!” and you gag, almost vomiting, rushing to snatch a container from the kitchen counter with anti-nausea medication. You swallow one tablet with a few sips of water and go sit down on the couch, exhausted. J watches your every move without any comment.

“If you don’t leave I’ll call the cops,” you close your eyes, feeling the room spinning.

“Please do, I would love to tell them who you really are,” he scoffs, rattling some of your pills, amazed on how huge they are. Crap, the police threat didn’t work.

“Go home to your girlfriend and leave me alone,” you encourage him, hoping he’ll get lost.

“Go home to your girlfriend,” he imitates you, giving you a mean glare. “Do I look like a fool in a leash to you?! Don’t insult me! Plus, I hate her!” he snarls, finding what he came for in the documents pile: an inventory of all the things you take for your condition.

“You hate everybody, “ you whisper, biting your dry lips.

“A skill I take a lot of pride in,” he cracks his neck and finally gets up.

“Why are you here?” you tilt your head to the side, fighting to keep your raging sickness under control. “ Where…where were you when I needed you so badly, hm? I asked for a meeting and you didn’t even bother to come…I was scared and seeked your help. How stupid of me…,” you sadly smile and even if you don’t seem to cry, J notices tears rolling down your face. “Of course you are too busy to be bothered with someone so insignificant as your ex that wanted to tell you she found out she’s dying…” you wipe your tears, not breaking eye contact. Him adding to your misery doesn’t aid.

“Shut up, you’re not dying!!! And don’t talk to me like this again!” he growls at you before slamming the sliding door behind him.

“I AM DYING!!” you yell, taking deep breaths to cool down.

My God, what in the world was that?!!! Do you have to move now?! You are in no mood to do so, but probably you’ll have to pull yourself together and vanish once more. How did he find you?

******************

You didn’t hear anything from him in a while and you are relieved: probably forgot about his little project involving you and lost interest like he usually does when he gets bored. It’s better this way; you don’t need to be stressed out about more problems, you don’t need your life turned upside down more than it already is.

You are coming back from your weekly check up at the clinic and you notice a black car in your driveway. You groan when you see Frost coming out of the vehicle, waiting for you. No choice but to park next to him and meet him.

“Hi, Y/N.”

“Hi, Frost,” you cautiously greet. “Is J here?”

“No, but boss wanted me to give you this,” and Jonny hands over a sealed box.

“What is this?” you check, curious to hear about it. What is he up to?!

“Mister J says the directions are inside: take one of the red pills three times a day and the blue one just once daily. He also said to stop taking the three meds he crossed over on your med list. All in the box,” Frost blurs out, getting ready to flee. He sure is uncomfortable; knowing you, you’ll certainly decline.

“I don’t want anything from him!” you raise your voice.

He was afraid this will happen.

You place the box on the hood, heading towards the porch.

“I can’t tell him that! Please take it!”

“I don’t know what the hell those pills are and I don’t need his help. Just tell him I said that!”

“He’s not gonna like it…” Frost grumbles.

“So? I want to be left alone!!”

****************

You are getting ready to go to sleep when you hear a loud bang: your front door is being opened and slammed. Must be J…and you are correct.

“Y/N?! Y/N! Where are you?” The Joker shouts, looking around for you.

“Ummm…here,” you get on your knees in bed, covering yourself with the comforter and bracing for the worst.

He storms in your bedroom, holding the box he sent earlier.

“I understand you refuse to take this?” his low voice echoes in the whole house.

“Yes, I don’t want it. Please leave!”

“Do you know what I’ve been doing for the past 3 weeks since I last saw you? Hmmm? Do you?!” he starts unwrapping the seal around the box, tossing it by you. “I broke into 3 research facilities, about 5 hospitals, kidnapped doctors and blackmailed others in exchange for information and treatments. Showed your med list to all of them and they came up with some new options for your disease!” J is so mad he’s slamming all the vials around, taking a red tablet out of one. “Take this!!” he shoves it in your face and you hesitantly move your head backwards.

“It’s a new experimental drug!!“ he roughly grabs your jaw.” I’ll get rid of the stuff you don’t have to take anymore.”

You sniffle, intrigued by his behavior and escape his grasp.

“Why are you tormenting me? Are you that bored? Why don’t you go back to Gotham?” You wipe your forehead, already tired from all this crap. “Do you feel…guilty?” you touch his hand, moving it away. He brings his face very close to yours, panting with indignation:

“I’m fucking buying you more time!! So take this goddamned pill or I’ll force you! I mean it!!”

You sigh, weighting in the options.

“Fine…I’ll take it…Are you happy now?” you reach for the bottle of water on the night stand and swallow the given medication.

“Ecstatic!” J grinds his teeth, vexed. “They told me you should expect nasty side effects, but it will get better.”

You shrink under the cover.

“Well, I took it, so…you don’t have to be here anymore.”

“Are you kicking me out?” he goes on the other side of the bed, starting to pile up pillows.

“Please go back to Gotham,” you beg, uneasy at the thought of him spending the night.

He stretches, fed up with the conversation, wanting to relax after another long day.

******************

One hour later you started feeling the aftermath of your new drug. You are used with being sick and yet it doesn’t make it easier. You shiver like a leaf, moaning in pain, adding 2 painkillers when the aching becomes unbearable. You try to get comfortable but it’s useless.

“Are you cold?” J asks, moving closer to you. “You…need… anything?” he struggles to offer, not really knowing how to react to the situation. You nod a faint yes, reaching your hands for him:

“Y-you…” the weak response comes, making him scoot over without hesitation. A strange warmness washes all over him, making his heart beat faster and it’s not a pleasant emotion. You curl up in a ball against his body while he covers you with his blanket too.

“J…” you whimper when his arms go around you, “ O-one of these days they’ll find me dead in here. C-can you take my things? I would hate for s-strangers to come in here, stealing what doesn’t belong to them. You know how much I care a-about my things… Y-yes?”

The Joker believes you’re delirious; he was warned about this common side effect of what you’re taking. Maybe you are…

“No, I won’t!” he emphasizes his refusal, inflexible in his decision.

“W-why not?” you lick your dried lips, getting even more upset.

“I only provide my services to people I like. You’re not on the list,” he makes sure to remind you.

“N-nobody’s on the list,” you crack an awkward smile, squinting your eyes when the muscle spasms hit again.

“Exactly,” J acknowledges, wondering how the hell you manage on your own when you are so ill. He caresses your hair and he notices so many strands left around his fingers.

“Jesus, Y/N!“ escapes his mouth before he can stop the words.

“I k-know I should shave my h-head and I just keep on p-postponing,” you tremble, praying you can rest for a little bit. So many sleepless nights, twisted thoughts and therapies took their toll on you.

After about 2 hours you finally fall asleep and he dozes off also, worn out and fighting with himself about what should happen next. J is not sure how long he’s been out, but when he wakes up it’s still dark and you are in his arms. It seems you didn’t move at all and he notices you’re not breathing.

“Hey, hey, Y/N, wake up!” he softly slaps your shoulder and there is no reaction. “Hey! Wake up I said!” he gets up on his elbow, terrified for once. “Open your eyes! Wake up!!!!” he shakes you, feeling he’s starting to sweat from the anxiety.

“Mmmm,” he hears your mumble and you cuddle more to his chest, keeping your hands under his pillow. “What is it?” you whisper, yawning.

He puts his head back on the cushions , truthfully admitting:

“Shit, I thought you died…”

“Not yet…” you calm him down, not wishing to wake up yet. “Go back to sleep, I’m fine…My blood pressure gets really low sometimes, I’m still here…” you kiss the skin in front of your lips, not realizing what you’re doing. You fall back into your dreamless daze while The Joker is unable to do anything else but repeat in his mind the simple sentence you used to let him know you’re still alive: “Not yet.”

*******************

You don’t go to the clinic anymore. A lot of your old meds are not needed according to the new care plan in place for you. New stuff is being added and some doctors are even brought to your house so they can assess you. Tests after tests, trial and error of all the drugs that The King of Gotham is able to smuggle and steal for you. You have such bad days you seriously consider giving up, which was the main idea before he showed up at your home that day.

You have no clue why he’s putting so much effort into it and he gets mad when you fight him, refusing to take your meds.

“Nothing is really working, they make me feel worse!” you sob, having a really bad day while being hooked to your new IV.

“Tough it out, Pumpkin, could be worse,” he grouchily snarls, moving some of your books around.

“You can’t buy me life, it’s too late,” you wail on your couch, depressed and ailing in every single fiber of your body.

“I’m not buying you life, Y/N, I’m buying you time!” J aims towards all the vials, bottles and containers containing the remedies you actually need.

“What does your girlfriend has to say about this? I bet she detests me since you spend so much time here,” you want to mention, blowing your nose in a tissue.

“I told you I hate her so I don’t care about what she thinks!” he barks and shoves the books around when a piece of paper folded in two flies out from one of them and lands on the floor. He picks it up and opens it, reading your note:

Bucket list

-go to Japan

- a family

- see J one last time - no, no, no!!

-meeting my knight in shining armor (he huffs)

-kidnap Commissar Gordon again (he smirks)

-see J one last time – no!!!!!!!!!!

-find out Batsy’s identity (he grins)

-steal more diamonds

-see J one last time - NOOOOO!!!!!!

“What are you doing?!” you jump off the couch when you see the paper in his hand.

“A bucket list Doll ?! Really?” he laughs because he has no better idea of how to get rid of this awful feeling in his heart.

“That’s private, give it back!” you barely drag your feet to go to him and yank the list out of his hand, placing in a drawer. “This is very personal stuff, you have no right to…”

“I do what I want!” he interrupts, giving you a high and mighty gaze. So typical.

“You can’t just…”

“Tell someone that cares,” he turns his back on you, returning to his task and you sit there with your mouth open, outraged. You forgot to cry. “When are you going to shave your head? The new IV med will really make you lose more hair, that’s what they told me,” The Joker chatters, turning his attention towards you again. “Want me to do it for you? I’ve seen you have the electric hair clipper in the bathroom. Don’t be a chicken and do it!” he distracts you from your tirade.

“I’m not sure if…” you try to negotiate, but I guess he has a new assignment on the horizon. You are conscious you’ve been delaying this forever; your hair is so thin and limp it’s gross.

“Nahhh, I think we should go on with it! No better time than the present!” and he takes your hand, guiding you towards the bathroom while you steadily roll the IV pole with you. “Sit!” he pushes your shoulders down on the chair and brings over the tool, turning it on. You nervously gulp, watching chunks of your locks piling up on the marble flooring.

“Done!” he announces and you touch your bald head, getting up so you can see yourself in the mirror. It looks terrible and you start weeping.

“Ahhh, it’s not that bad kid. You’re still fairly pretty. To be honest, you’re uglier than before but I can still look at you,” J cheerfully concludes.

You elbow him through tears, appalled at your reflection.

“You suck at making people feel better, you know that?”

“Another skill I take great pride in,” he winks, grinding his silver teeth and you cry harder.

“My hair…it’s …just…gone,” you stammer, saddened beyond control, stroking your shaved skin.

He sighs, softly pushing you away from the mirror, still holding the trimmer.

“You know, Princess, I’m starting to get sick of my green hair, I had it for a while,” he passes his fingers through it, turning his head left and right.

“Huh?” you whimper, sniffling.

Before you can react, he turns on the trimmer again, starting to shave his head. You stop bawling, shocked, watching his green locks falling to the ground.

“What are you doing, J?!”

“Isn’t it obvious? Getting rid of something I’m bored with. There, done! Com’ere!” he urges you to return in front of the mirror with him. “I think we look pretty good, won’t you say?” he puckers his lips and you start crying so hard it makes him cringe. “Would you stop it??!! I didn’t do it for you, I’m too selfish. I was really tired of my toxic green hair, got it?”

You nod a yes and hug him, squeezing him in your arms as hard as you can since your IV line doesn’t permit a wide range of motion.

********************

Later that evening

“Are you ready?” he peeks in the bedroom to see you dressed up. “Told you some make-up will do the job, you’re much prettier now. Still not up to my standards, but…”

You walk towards him in your floral summer dress, sulking.

“Horrible person…” you mutter, elbowing him. “Where are we going?”

“I need your help with something and since you didn’t get out of the house in forever, I have plans for today.” “Where are we going?” you insist, stepping outside and observe the silver car on the driveway, probably dropped off by his men because he didn’t have it there this morning.

The Joker gets dresses with his silver jacket, taking a deep breath before laying it down for you:

“The silver jacket is the most I can do for the shiny armor, ok? Plus the car,” and cracks his fingers, a bit uneasy.

You seem puzzled.

“Your stupid bucket list, Doll: the knight in shining armor thing. I’m not wearing a dumb armor, this is the most I’m willing to do.”

You stare at him, speechless, on the verge of crying as he can see your lips quivering.

“Uhhh, give me a break!” J growls, giving you a nudge towards the car.

******************

“What are we doing at Jasper’s hideout?” you step out of the car, wondering what he has in mind.

“Some business to attend to and I need your help, OK?”

“OK,” you agree, hesitant.

When you both walk in with the new bald looks, everybody at the meeting instantly stops talking and glances, astonished.

“Wha’? “ J guides you to your seats, “You didn’t see two beautiful people before?!” and the tone in his voice makes them all aware they shouldn’t make it so obvious they’re perplexed at the change.

They all start talking in the same time, apologizing and attempting to fix their mistake.

“Shut the hell up!” he addresses the crowd, irked. “Wrong spot, Y/N!” he signals you to get up from your chair and you do as asked, confused. “Here!” he pulls you in his lap and you place your hand around his neck, smiling. “We are negotiating with this fine…gentlemen; I’m too exhausted for this, you do it.”

Wow, they didn’t see you in more than a year and now you show up here with Mister J, back to what you used to do. What’s going on? they all ask themselves, knowing they won’t get an answer.

The Joker rests his head on your shoulder, listening to the sound of your voice resonating in his ears.

He might not be able to buy life for the girl he hates so much, but he can buy her time. As much as he can.

Also read: MASTERLIST

http://diyunho.tumblr.com/post/153664676321/joker-x-reader-masterlist

#the joker x reader #the joker fanfiction #the joker imagine #the joker jared leto #the joker #the joker suicide squad #the suicide squad #jared leto #mister j #mistah j #mr. j #puddin #sexy villain #dc comics #dc

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lostcauses-noregrets · 8 years

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Lostcauses Fic: Train

This stupid stupid fluff is for @zedsdead1001, @erwinsalive and all the other dear Eruris who got shitty anons this week. (Seriously, what is wrong with some people?) Hope this makes you smile.

Levi hates trains. To be fair, Levi hates all forms of public transport, but he reserves a particular loathing for trains. They’re dirty, noisy, smelly and worse, filled with people. People who, heaven forbid, might attempt to speak to Levi, engage him in conversation. Levi’s worst nightmare is being stuck on a train with some friendly fuck who wants to pass the time making small talk. Admittedly it’s not a problem he has to deal with too often, his general fuck off demeanour deters all but the most aggressively friendly and hopelessly inebriated. But that doesn’t stop Levi from hating trains.

Unfortunately the pittance Levi earns doesn’t afford him the luxury of owning a car and sometimes, when the distance is too great or the weather too foul, necessity dictates that he must smother his loathing of strangers and take the train. Today is one of those days. And fuck has it been one of those days. It’s been long and trying and Levi has had to deal with a whole succession of idiots who seemed determined to be as obtuse and obstructive as possible. All he wants to do is get home so he can close the door of his flat and shut out the rest of humanity.

The train is busy when Levi boards, crammed with stressed and dishevelled commuters. Levi scowls and wrinkling his nose in distaste. Miraculously he manages to find an empty double row. He collapses into the seat by the window, saying a silent prayer of thanks to any deity that happens to be listening, dumps his bag on the seat beside him and hitches his most hostile glare into place. Several passengers glance at the empty seat beside Levi as they board the train, but one scowl is enough to send them scuttling further down the carriage.

It’s only once all the passengers are seated and the train pulls out of the station that Levi exhales a silent sigh of relief and his expression softens into his usual bad tempered scowl.

His relief is short lived. They’re barely ten minutes out of the station when a shadow falls across the carriage by Levi’s seat.

“Excuse me, do you mind?”

Levi glances up, barely registering the smartly dressed business man gesturing towards the empty seat which is currently occupied by Levi’s bag.

Without looking at the man, he lifts his bag off the seat and tucks it behind his legs on the floor, sighing pointedly as he does so.

“Thank you,” the man continues, “I didn’t think I’d find a seat.”

Great. A talker. That’s all Levi needs.

“I got a call just as the train was leavening,” the man explains, as if Levi cares, “and I took it in the vestibule just in case this is the quiet carriage.

It’s only now that Levi looks at the stranger and really takes him in.

Fuck.

He’s hot.

Really hot.

The blond haired, blue eyed, should-be-illegal kind of hot that looks weirdly out of place in real life. Especially on a shitty commuter train.

Levi swallows and collects himself. It doesn’t matter how hot blondie is, he is encroaching on Levi’s personal space and that is an unforgivable sin.

The stranger smiles as he sits down, Levi stares back blankly for a moment before turning away to look out the window. That’s when he feels something settle against his leg. The tail of the stranger’s overcoat coat has flopped onto his thigh. Levi glares at the offending garment draped across his faded black jeans; charcoal grey wool, with a bright cobalt blue lining. Flash bastard.

“Oh sorry, I beg your pardon.”

The man hastily pulls his coat off Levi’s leg before standing up to remove it, folding it neatly and placing it in the overhead rack. Levi can’t help sneaking a glance up at the man as he stands. Fuck he’s tall. And not just tall, but built. A beautifully understated suit accentuates broad shoulders, tapering to a narrow waist. Levi hastily drops his gaze in case he’s caught staring.

Bad move.

The stranger’s crotch is right on Levi’s eye level and as he reaches up into the overhead rack his jacket shifts just enough to reveal a package so impressive that Levi almost chokes.

“Are you all right?”

The man looks down at Levi with curiosity and concern.

Levi can feel his cheeks flaring scarlet so he coughs into his hand and sinks into his leather jacket to hide his embarrassment.

“Fine,” he mutters.

Mercifully the man sits down, removing his endowments from Levi’s direct line of sight. Reaching into his briefcase he pulls out a laptop and balances it on his lap.

“I hope this wont bother you, I just need to read through some reports.”

“No problem,” Levi replies through gritted teeth. Seriously, what is it with this guy? Nobody is this polite.

Levi curls up in his seat facing the window as the man scrolls through screeds of documents. Lulled by the repetitive sound of the train and the fatigue of the day Levi quickly zones out. At some point he vaguely becomes aware of a smell, a scent rather, warm and fresh and woody, a subtle masculine cologne. It’s not at all unpleasant.

Levi wakens with a jolt. For one bewildering moment he can’t figure out what woke him then he realises in an overwhelming wave of mortification that he must have been snoring. Shit.

Levi’s embarrassment is quickly replaced by panic when he realises that rather than leaning against the cold hard window he is resting against something warm and solid.

Holy fucking shit.

Levi bolts upright in his seat glaring wildly at the stranger next to him, against whose shoulder he appears to have been sleeping like a baby.

“Sleep well?” The man asks. His voice is soft and low and there’s a warmth to it that makes Levi want to lean in against his shoulder again.

“Shit sorry,” Levi mumbles.

“No need to apologise,” the man smiles.

“You should have shoved me over.”

“You were sleeping so peacefully; I couldn’t bring myself to wake you.”

It’s at that moment that Levi notices the small dark patch on the mans shoulder.

Oh no. Please god no.

Not only has he fallen asleep with his head on some random hot bloke’s shoulder, he’s fucking dribbled on him as well. Levi’s mortification knows no bounds.

The man’s eyes follow Levi’s gaze to his shoulder.

“Oh,” he pauses for a moment, “don’t worry, I need to get this cleaned anyway.”

“I’ll pay for it,” Levi mumbles. He has now idea what it costs to dry clean a smart suit, more than he can afford that’s for sure.

“Really, it’s not a problem,” the man continues. “I spilled coffee on my sleeve this morning, so I need to get it cleaned. Look.” He holds one arm out in front of Levi and sure enough there is a small dark stain on his sleeve. “I’m terribly clumsy,” he adds sheepishly.

Before Levi can argue further he’s interrupted by the train tannoy announcing his stop.

Thank fuck.

“Uh this is my stop.”

The man smiles broadly.

“What a coincidence, it’s mine too.”

The wind cuts through Levi like a knife as he steps onto the platform and he huddles into his jacket wishing he had worn something warmer underneath. He allows himself to be swept along the platform by the disembarking crowd of commuters and he’s almost out the gate of the station when he hears a familiar voice behind him.

“Wait!”

He turns his head and sees the blond stranger shouldering his way through the crowd towards him. Against his better judgement, Levi waits.

“You move fast,” the man grins. “Here please take this before you go.”

He hands Levi a business card.

Levi takes the card and stares at the name; Erwin Smith, Survey Corps.

“Erwin? What kind of a name is that?”

Levi doesn’t mean to be rude, but seriously, Erwin?

Erwin doesn’t seem to be remotely offended, in fact he looks rather pleased.

“It’s my kind of name. What’s yours?”

“Levi.”

“Levi,” Erwin repeats. It sounds as though he’s trying the name out for size. “It suits you.”

Levi can feel the heat rising in his face so he scrutinises the card again to hide his embarrassment.

“Survey Corp? What’s that?”

“It’s an environmental survey company.” He pauses for a moment. “Why don’t you call me?”

“Why would I do that?” Levi replies in his flattest tone.

“Oh you know,” Erwin replies nonchalantly, “I thought you might want to sleep with me again.”

“What the fuck?!”

Levi’s eyes blow wide with surprise and Erwin throws his head back and laughs, a rich warm sound.

“Perhaps you’ll let me buy you dinner first this time?”

Levi glares at the man, eyes narrowing dangerously.

“What is this shit? Is this your thing? Do you often pick up strangers on trains?”

“No. Never.” Erwin replies with a hint of amusement. “Do you often fall asleep on strangers on trains?”

Levi’s patience snaps.

“Fuck you asshole,” he spits over his shoulder as he stalks off down the street, Erwin’s card tucked safely in his pocket.

~ ~

It’s months later he thinks to ask.

“Was it really your stop?”

He’s lying draped across Erwin’s chest, skin still slick with sweat and lust. Erwin’s fingers are carding gently through his hair.

“Hmmm, what?” Erwin yawns, sleepy and sated.

“Your stop. On the train, when we met.”

“Ah.” The fingers still in Levi’s hair. “No, I have to confess it wasn’t.”

“Asshole.”

“Guilty as charged,” the fingers start stroking again and Levi hums with contentment. “If it’s any consolation, I had to wait an hour for the next train and I almost froze my balls off.”

“Serves you right.”

They lie quietly, silent and content, and Levi’s almost drifting off when Erwin whispers.

“Hey Lee, if you fall asleep down there, try not to dribble.”

Disclaimer: I may or may not have fallen asleep on the train multiple times, but sadly I have never woken up dribbling on Erwin Smith’s shoulder.

#lostcauses fic #stupid fluff #eruri #erwin smith #levi ackerman #snk #fanfic #modern au

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seraphichan · 8 years

Text

Thinking of You

This is my gift for @sayloni as part of @eruriweek‘s Secret Valentine event!

They gave me several wonderful prompts, but I decided to write the single dad!Levi has to deal with his annoying, young -- and, as we all know, very attractive -- neighbor!Erwin AU (featuring adorable daughter!Isabel).

I hope you enjoy! <3

Read below the cut or on AO3!

The day was balmy and bright, and absolutely perfect for doing laundry. Which is what Levi was in the middle of, taking his time to breathe in the fresh air and enjoy the sunshine as he did it. He couldn’t help but think about how lucky he and Isabel were to finally have their own house in the suburbs, even if the mortgage payments were hell. It got them away from the hustle and bustle of city life.

It was nice living here.

“You know they have machines for that now.”

Except for the neighbor.

Levi’s mood immediately went sour and he aggressively snapped the wrinkles out of the wet towel in his hands before hanging it over the line.

“Erwin,” Levi greeted tersely.

“Of course,” Erwin continued, oblivious to Levi’s annoyance, “the benefits of air drying your laundry are two-fold. Not only do you save money and energy, but the gradual exposure to local allergens will--”

For fucks sake, the kid never shut up.

Of course, Levi used the term kid loosely.

Erwin was only seven years younger than Levi himself. But he was a fortunate fuck. His parents, apparently, moved to Florida for retirement a few years ago, leaving Erwin the car, the house, the run of the family business, and what seemed like the whole damn world on a silver platter.

And Levi hated him for it.

“--get home?”

“Huh?”

“Isabel. Do you know when she’ll get home?”

“Soon I imagine.”

That was another thing Levi hated about Erwin. Everyone in the neighborhood thought he was the greatest thing since sliced bread.

And so, unfortunately, did Isabel.

“Papa, I’m home!”

Speak of the devil.

“Welcome back, Iz--”

“Erwin!” she squealed, ignoring her father. She threw her backpack at Levi’s feet and ran over to the part of the fence Erwin was peering over.

Levi frowned and shook out another towel.

“Hello, Isabel.” Erwin smiled warmly at her. “Did you have a good day at school?”

“Uh huh!”

“What did you have for lunch?”

“Pizza!”

“Me too!”

Levi rolled his eyes, trying not to be bothered by how well Erwin got along with Isabel and failing.

They were still chatting when Levi hung the last towel over the line and heard the phone ring. He sighed and went to answer it, hoping it wasn’t work.

“Isabel, I have to go to work,” he announced when he went back into the yard, “so we have to find you a babysitter.”

“Whaaat?” she cried. “Why can’t I just stay home like I always do?”

“Because that’s too long to be by yourself,” he answered as he quickly pulled all the towels from the line and shoved them back in the laundry basket.

Isabel was only alone for about five hours when he worked third shift. He came home in time to wake her and send her to school, then he went to work first shift, getting home well before she did. True, he slept once he was sure she was home from school safe and had dinner prepared for her, so he wasn’t exactly watching her, but he was there in case she needed anything.

“Not fair,” she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and frowning. She shuffled slowly behind him as he went to the house, determined to make this as hard on him as possible.

“Levi, if I may,” Erwin said.

Levi wanted to say ‘You may not’, but by the time he turned around to answer Erwin had already jumped the fence and was walking towards them.

Levi was going to have to invest in building a higher fence.

“Why don’t you let me watch Isabel?”

“No.”

Levi’s abrupt answer gave him pause, but it didn’t stop him from speaking again after a few moments.

“Please, if you let me watch Isabel she can stay home, an environment you know she will be safe in. And you already know me, so--”

Levi scoffed. “Just because you’re my neighbor.”

“I won’t charge.”

“She has homework.”

“Which I will make sure she does.”

“She hasn’t had dinner yet.”

“I know my way around a kitchen. Or at least a takeout menu,” he chuckled.

“I don’t think--”

“Please, papa, please?!”

Levi looked from his excited, bouncing daughter to the tall, smug asshole beaming down at him.

“Fine.”

+++++

Levi was exhausted.

After supervising second shift he had started immediately on his regular third shift hours. Thankfully they had let him go an hour early from that so he could at least attempt to get some extra rest before he had to be up and at the factory again for first shift. Levi just hoped the asshat that called off on second yesterday wouldn’t do so again today. He wasn’t sure if he could do another three shifts in a row without maiming himself on one of the machines.

Sighing, Levi pulled into the driveway - car parked crookedly but he didn’t have a single fuck to give to fix it - and trudged into the house. Everything was dark except for the light of the television coming from the family room.

Erwin had probably forgotten to turn it off before he went home.

Or so Levi thought, but to his surprise Erwin was still there, sacked out with his head resting on the back of the couch. It was two in the morning. Levi had told him he could leave at midnight once he was sure Isabel was asleep. So why was he still here?

He was about to shake Erwin awake and tell him to get out, but stopped himself when he saw Isabel curled up next to Erwin in her favorite blanket, snoring lightly as she slept.

Oh.

Levi ran his hand through his hair and scratched at his undercut. He supposed he could let them sleep for now. Isabel seemed comfortable. And Erwin, when he was quiet, was actually half decent to look at.

Levi eyes widened and he took a step back.

What the fuck?

He was definitely exhausted.

He must be if he was having those thoughts about this moron. Levi sighed as he turned off the television and went to the kitchen. He would brew himself some tea to unwind and get his head on straight. Then he would boot Erwin out.

It was only a few minutes until Levi had a cup of tea in his hand, blowing on the hot liquid so he can take a sip without burning his mouth.

“You’re back.”

So much for having that chance to unwind.

Levi turned and watched as Erwin walked into the kitchen yawning and running his hand through his messy hair.

“How was Isabel?” he asked, berating himself for how much effort it took not to look at where the bottom of Erwin’s shirt was riding up his torso.

“An absolute angel.”

Levi snorted. Of course she would be for Erwin.

“Well, thank you,” he dismissed, returning to his tea.

“Anytime,” Erwin said, lingering.

Levi raised an eyebrow at him. “Need something?”

“I was wondering…”

If Erwin expected to be paid after all Levi would gladly do it with a swift kick to his ass.

“...No, it’s nothing.”

“Okay?”

“Call me if you need anything, Levi,” Erwin said as he left.

Levi could have sworn he saw Erwin wink.

He was definitely, very exhausted.

+++++

He wasn’t the next time it happened, though. Or the time after that.

“There something wrong with your eye?” Levi asked Erwin a few weeks later after he had spent far too much time thinking about it.

“I’m sorry?” Erwin replied, looking up from the homework he was correcting.

It had become a regular thing for Erwin to come over and help Isabel with her homework. Erwin may have been an insufferable brat, but he was also a smart one, so Levi had grudgingly agreed to Erwin’s presence every afternoon. Homework help became staying for dinner, which became coming over to watch Isabel on those random days she had off from school, sitting at Levi’s kitchen table in a suit, one computer open on client documents and another right next to it for video chatting with said clients.

It was a series of developments which Levi had despised at first, but had since come to expect as a part of his day. It seemed that despite Erwin being a nuisance, Levi had grown fond of him.

Yet another thing he spent far too much time thinking about.

“Your one eye. It...twitches a lot.”

Erwin blinked at Levi, then smiled. “Only when I’m around you.”

He winked. This time Levi was sure of it.

And that made him start thinking all over again.

+++++

Thinking things like ‘Maybe I should just push him over a fucking cliff’ or ‘Do bears eat stupid blonde people?’

Because Erwin was a privileged, upstart shitstain, and Levi had momentarily forgotten. Erwin had managed to charm Levi just like he had the rest of the neighborhood. Which was probably why the loud music coming from Erwin’s house was still going well after midnight.

Levi growled as another wave of bass vibrated his bedroom.

Isabel was a heavy sleeper - nothing could wake her short of a firm shake by the shoulders or sudden bright light once she was out - but it wasn’t even the possibility of waking Isabel that ticked him off about this the most. Or that fact that he wasn’t getting any sleep himself. What really did it was that he was not as irritated with Erwin as he wanted to be, as he should be.

It was because he was exhausted. That was what Levi told himself as he got out of bed and shoved his feet in his slippers, crept downstairs and over to Erwin’s house.

But that was hardly a good excuse anymore.

When Levi got to Erwin’s door he didn’t bother knocking, it was unlocked so he just barged right in. He wove his way through the house, following the music to Erwin’s living room where he found Erwin and some friends loitering on the couches there.

“Levi!” Erwin shouted when he spotted him, sitting up from where he was lounging on the couch.

His friends echoed Levi’s name, lifting their cups at him. Bunch of idiots. He wasn’t there for them, though.

“Erwin, you’re--”

“Levi!” he shouted again, cutting him off. Erwin seemed happy to see him.

Levi couldn’t say the same.

He took in Erwin’s appearance. His hair was mussed, his cheeks were red, and Levi was pretty sure he was wearing his sweatpants inside out.

He was fucking sloshed.

“You’re too noisy,” he said after marching up to Erwin to make sure that Erwin could actually hear what he was saying, “can you at least--”

Before he could finish Erwin grabbed Levi’s arm and yanked him down so that he was sprawled on his back in Erwin’s lap.

Levi blinked up at him, bewildered.

“Leviii,” Erwin sing-songed, slopping beer out of the plastic cup in his hand. He smelled like a distillery.

Levi wrinkled his nose.

“You haven’t called me,” he said.

“Don’t need to. You’re always at my house.” Levi struggled to get up, but Erwin kept him pinned down with his arm across Levi’s chest.

It was pissing Levi off.

“You could still call,” Erwin pouted. “Oh, I like your slippers,” he said almost immediately after, smile brightening his face again.

“Hope you like them up your ass. That’s where I’m going to shove them if you don’t let go.”

Erwin laughed. Loudly.

“Not joking,” Levi said, struggling to get up again. “Erwin, let me--”

Erwin cut him off with a kiss, his lips soft and warm, but nauseating from the taste and smell of alcohol. It was this, and the chorus of ‘Ooohs!’ from his friends in the background, that brought Levi back from his shock.

He grabbed Erwin’s shoulders and pushed him away, glared at him.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Erwin continued to grin at him for a few moments before his alcohol addled brain caught up and the smile faded from his face.

“Levi, I--”

“Shut down the party or I call the fucking cops,” Levi spat, jabbing his finger into Erwin’s chest. He scrambled up, Erwin’s grip gone loose now, and started walking away.

“Wait, Le--”

Levi slammed the front door behind him and stomped home, face hot.

+++++

“Papa, whatcha thinking about?”

Levi jolted, hand moving away from where he had been absently touching his lips.

“Nothing.”

Isabel tilted her head. “I love you.”

“Love you, too, Iz.”

She giggled and smiled, went back to coloring.

Levi returned his attention to the stove where he was cooking Isabel breakfast.

He definitely wasn’t thinking about anything. And even if he was, it definitely wasn’t Erwin, or his stupid face with his stupid eyebrows and his stupid blue eyes and his stupid lips.

Except he definitely was and he hadn’t stopped, the events of last night replaying in his head on a constant loop.

Had he been too hard on Erwin? He was just having fun. And it was a weekend, so Levi didn’t have to work today. He had plenty of time to catch up on his sleep - Isabel was always willing to take a nap with him after she watched her favorite cartoon.

No.

No. Levi shouldn’t make excuses for him. Erwin was an asshole. Levi always knew it. And the way he acted only a few hours ago proved it.

“--pa.”

And yet.

“Papa!”

Levi jumped.

“You’re gonna burn the bacon,” Isabel scolded him.

Levi cursed and removed the frying pan from the burner.

He definitely wasn’t thinking.

+++++

The doorbell rang just as Levi finished scrubbing the frying pan clean. Knowing full well who it was bound to be, he took his time drying the pan and putting it away before before moseying to the vestibule and answering the door.

“What?” he asked as he yanked it open.

“Good morning,” Erwin answered sheepishly.

As Levi thought, it was Erwin. He expected this. What he didn’t expect was the large bouquet of flowers he presented to Levi.

Was he fucking serious?

Levi opened his mouth to say something, but Isabel beat him to it.

“Wow, how pretty!” she squealed as she bounded down the stairs.

“Erwin brought you flowers, Iz, isn’t that nice?” Levi took the flowers out of Erwin’s hands and placed them in his daughter’s. “Why don’t you go put them in a vase, hm?”

“Okay!”

Levi waited until she scampered off to the kitchen before turning back to Erwin.

“Flowers? Really?”

“They seemed appropriate.”

Levi did all he could not to twirl his eyes.

“Levi, I’m sorry. Truly. I wasn’t thinking. Or, well, I was. Of you. I find that I like you very much.”

He stopped, cleared his throat like he expected Levi to say something. When Levi didn’t, he continued, cheeks gone pink.

“Not that that is any excuse for what I did. I understand how uncomfortable and unexpected that must have been for you, especially given the situation, especially if you are not of the...disposition to accept my advances, as inappropriate as they were. I’m very, deeply sorry,” he finished, eyes darting up and down between Levi’s face and the floor.

It was long-winded, and he used lots of fancy words, but Levi could tell Erwin was being sincere. He actually recognized that he fucked up and wanted to fix it.

Levi sighed. There was no staying mad at him it seemed.

“Alright,” he said.

It took Erwin a few moments to realize that was Levi's way of saying he accepted Erwin’s apology. Once he did his shoulders drooped in relief, but he still seemed upset by something.

Levi thought about what Erwin had said and did twirl his eyes that time. Big, dumb, blonde idiot.

He listened to make sure Isabel was still in the kitchen, then he closed the gap between him and Erwin, and pulled Erwin down by the front of his shirt to give him a quick kiss.

When Levi let him go Erwin looked surprised. “I thought--”

“It wasn't the kiss that pissed me off, it was how you initiated it. Consider this a redo.” Levi took a step back. “Now, are you coming in or what?”

A wide smile split Erwin's face.

“Yes, I think I am.”

#eruri #erurisecretvalentine #sayloni #snk fic #levi ackerman #erwin smith #isabel magnolia #modern au #single dad!levi #annoying but sexy neighbor!erwin #adorable!isabel #man i hope this is okay #i tried not to stress over it #keyword tried lmao

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ecotone99 · 4 years

Text

[HM, SP] No-Star Reviews

Joel struggled to find the right words.

He’d written so much so often lately that it had become difficult not to describe his thoughts but to piece together sentences that differentiated them from one another.

“Incompetent,” he typed, then paused.

No, scratch that, he thought. Delete, delete, delete.

“Negligent,” came out through the flurry of clicks.

Too easy to rebut, he thought.

“Malignant and diseased,” he typed as a sneer crossed his face and tears spilled over his lip and into his mouth.

He’d found the perfect words with the perfect weight.

He hit the enter key and felt a wave of exhilaration that made his face flush.

Just two months and more than a hundred thousand words ago, Joel decided he’d had enough of his mother, his boss and what felt like a million others walking across his back each day. Any man with an ounce of pride would never have taken the abuse so long, which meant there was no reason to take it a day longer, Joel thought as he stared at his paunchy reflection in a mirror spotted with flecks of toothpaste.

“I will build my own empire. Today,” he whispered through gritted teeth then wiped away the evidence of his sobbing and put in eye drops hoping to avoid tipping off his mother that he’d been crying again.

But the groundbreaking had to wait. Eight or nine hours, at least. Mr. Figginbottom promised Joel he’d be fired if he called out again and Joel was sure the octogenarian wasn’t lying this time. His boss’s 50-something nephew had recently moved back to town, surely after being kicked out of his own mother’s house after yet another failed stint at a rehab, and Mr. Figginbottom was looking for any excuse to give away Joel’s gig. And while no man ever became rich selling pool supplies for a man who couldn’t even become rich owning a small chain of pool supply stores, Joel needed at least one more paycheck to cover his own startup expenses.

The windfall came sooner than expected, though. Joel had barely clocked in when the phone at the front desk rang. INTERNAL, it said.

“Checkout, this is Joel,” he answered.

“Joel, this is Figs. Can you come back and see Linda in my office?”

“It’s a little busy up here, actually. There’s a woman who was asking Roger for help with chlorine tablets and as soon as she asked, two more people walked in …”

“Joel, I want to make clear that I wasn’t asking a question, I was giving an order,” the man on the line said.

A long silence took hold before Mr. Figginbottom tired of waiting.

“Joel, I said …”

“Yessir, be right back,” Joel said and slammed down the receiver.

Joel was surprised to see Mr. Figginbottom in the office.

“I thought Linda was supposed to be here,” Joel said from the doorway, still holding the knob.

“She’s right there,” Mr. Figginbottom said, pointing to a blonde woman holding a clipboard sitting on the small sofa hidden behind the door.

“Hi, Joel,” she said warmly as she leaned into view.

“Son, sit down,” Mr. Figginbottom said.

Joel had no idea what this could be about but he wondered if it wasn’t his opportunity to preemptively quit. To tell Mr. Figginbottom this was the worst job he had ever had working for the biggest idiot he had ever met who owned the worst company in the world.

“Joel, we saw the tape,” Mr. Figginbottom said. “I’ll be honest, I’m half tempted to beat you myself first but Linda here says that’s not going to look good for my insurance rates, so I’m just going to tell you to get out of here right now.”

Joel was stuck on the part about the tape when he realized there was more to process.

“Joel, actually, there are some papers we have to go over,” Linda said as she began pulling some documents from beneath the clipboard’s hinge. Mr. Figginbottom cocked his head, a little perturbed the office manager’s politeness had sucked the vinegar out of the rant he was building up to.

“Wait, what tape?” Joel asked.

Mr. Figginbottom looked at Linda, who turned back to Joel and opened her mouth to speak before being cut off.

“Joel, there’s a security camera in the back of the building,” Mr. Figginbottom said as he leaned across the desk, face reddening as the position pulled his shirt taught and made the rolls of fat hang out over his collar more than usual. “We started getting complaints from the closer that someone was blowing mud behind the dumpster. We looked at the camera, and by God, if that wasn’t you, Joel.”

That much was true. Joel had always hated going to the bathroom at work. Or rather, he hated going to the bathroom in the bathroom at work. It was a single-stall, unisex bathroom the employees shared with customers. It was usually clean enough — Joel often had to take care of that himself — but it was a cacophonous tile room that sent reverberations of even the gentlest tinkle throughout the store. There was a smaller but better-insulated facility in the back room but that was reserved solely for Mr. Figginbottom, who had “the I.B. syndrome,” as he’d often say unburdened with the shame Joel carried for such talk. The way Joel saw it, he had no other choice but to go behind the dumpster.

“Son, are you even listening?” Mr. Figginbottom asked as he pulled a handkerchief from the pocket of his plaid western shirt and wiped the beading sweat off his bald head.

Mr. Figginbottom leaned back in the chair again and swallowed hard, covering his mouth.

“I’m nauseous right now thinking about that video, you …”

“Fig,” Linda interrupted, “we talked about the paperwork for Joel? Remember the paperwork?”

The rest was a bit of a blur. Crying now for the second time in an hour, Joel nodded along as Linda told him about how he could sign up for COBRA Health Insurance and how he’d have 10 days to return all three of his work shirts, properly washed and pressed, please.

“And you’ve accrued 32 vacation hours that we’ll be paying you out for today along with the rest of your scheduled hours for this week,” Linda said as she handed him a check in exchange for the clipboard full of documents he’d been signing.

It was 9:25 a.m. Monday and Joel held $388 in his hands. The tears started to dry as he realized this was his seed money. Mr. Figginbottom had inadvertently become an angel investor.

Thirty minutes later, Joel was a new man. He paid his mother $300 for two months’ rent in advance and he was a free man for the next 60 days. Nothing could get in the way of his empire now.

First, though, Joel needed to get something off his chest. He pulled out his laptop and signed in to a Facebook account under the name Colby Stimpson, a chiseled man with perfect hair whose stock photos Joel stole for an account he used to stalk all the girls he knew a decade ago high school who wouldn’t accept a friend request from his real account.

“If I could give Fig’s Pools no stars, I would,” Joel typed into the review field as Colby Stimpson. “It is run by a fat and old man who loves having power over everyone for no reason other than he has the IB syndrome … aka DIHARREA! He also loves his employee Linda so much he has sex with her at work without his wife. I suggest you try a different pool company that cares for its customers because this is a no star place with an owner who could drop dead and anyone could care less!”

Joel slept as well as he had in months that night and awoke at 2 p.m. thanks to the blackout curtains he bought the afternoon before. It was an investment in himself, he thought as he watched his newfound nest egg dip to about $50.

He rolled over and picked up his phone to open /r/hentai but saw a stack of text message alerts on his lock screen, all from Roger at the pool store.

“Can’t believe it. So crazy!” the latest message read. “I guess it happened last night when he got home,” another read as the story unraveled in reverse as Joel scrolled to the top of the text chain.

“Figs is DEAD!” the first message said.

“LOL,” Joel replied, following up with a laughing emoji.

The next few days were a mix of emotions for Joel. He had intended to spend them building an empire of some kind — maybe an app company or a place that sold graphic novels and adult novelties, he thought — but instead found himself watching anime and wondering whether it was right to feel so vindicated by Mr. Figginbottom’s death. Confused by his own emotions, he left the house for the first time since being fired and walked the two blocks to the Stop-N-Shop.

He filled up the handbasket with a dozen Little Debbie snack cakes and as many Rockstar energy drinks before throwing a one-pound back of pretzels on top of it all.

“Forty-six eighty-eight,” the man at the counter said after scanning it all.

It seemed like a lot of money for groceries but it was enough to let Joel avoid leaving the house again for a least three or four days.

The card reader let out a flat honk. “Declined,” the man behind the counter said.

“Let me try it again,” Joel said.

HONK.

“Do you have another way to pay?” the man asked Joel.

“No, but there’s at least $50 in the account,” he said.

“It’s declined. Do you have cash?”

“No, but there’s money in there.”

“Then you’ll have to go to the bank to get your cash out,” the man said, pulling the handbasket across the counter to his side.

“If there was negative stars this place would get them all,” Colby Stimpson’s review read. “They won’t do business with their best shoppers and it means they will LOOSE THEM ALL! Bad customer service = never shopping there again because of the experience. Totally negligent and discrimination from the clarks with no respect. I wouldn’t give a rip if this place burned down tomorrow. Shop at a better place who cares about customers such as Murphy’s.”

Joel’s hunger strike didn’t last long. He woke up the next morning with an empty stomach and a headache so bad he winced. He needed sugar and caffeine. He put on his Crocs, pulled $5 in quarters from the old coffee tin his mother used to collect coins and started his trek to the Stop-N-Shop. He had barely turned the first corner when he saw the black smoke rising from the other side of the strip mall. He picked up his pace excited at the prospect of seeing something burning down and turned the last corner wheezing from the brisk walk to find a few beams and a row of gas pumps covered in ash where the Stop-N-Shop was a day earlier.

The fire must have started hours ago because only one fire truck remained and its sirens weren’t even on. How the sound didn’t wake him up just two blocks away was a mystery but the store caught fire sometime during the night and there was nothing but rubble left.

Joel was dismayed by his first thought. “I’ll have to walk another six blocks to the next store.”

His second thought put him in a better mood: “I did this.”

Joel spent the rest of the afternoon pacing his room taking mental note of everyone and every company that had ever wronged him, no matter how minor a slight.

“I wish there were zero stars instead of one star but it’s thanks to everyone gets a trophy in this society,” read Colby Stimpson’s screed on the Old Navy Facebook page. “The employees at this particular location are very judgemental and have no interest in finding what is the truth from lying customers. They have a changing room that is just a curtain and if you are man and are shopping there and have to try on clothes you can’t knock on a curtain. And when you open it and there’s a girl in there the employees at this location will say the cops are coming even though you followed all their own rules. I hope they all get laid off for being INCOMPETENT!”

Joel stayed up for hours on end posting in an almost fugue state. Long-forgotten memories came flooding back.

A Hormel Chili can that had some kind of root vegetable in it. “Can you say health codes? What is going on in that factory?”

A grocery store that was always out of his favorite pasta sauce. “Disappointing to say the least. This store needs to be shut down ASTAT!”

A Target whose manager once refused to let him return a package of briefs that were too small. “This store is a scam! How would you even know if they fit if you can’t try them on but then you can’t return them once you put them on? The BBB needs to investigate this illegitimate business.”

In the weeks that followed came a reign of terror. Inspectors shut down canneries for unsanitary conditions. Shopping malls closed, taking out all of their tenants at once. Stock prices dropped and stores were closed after bad earnings calls.

From his fingertips to God’s ears.

As time went on, Joel realized it was easier than he first realized. He hardly had to mention a slight or even why he was offering a one-star rating. Just posting an inane comment in the reviews was enough to cause some damage.

“This hammer looks weak and dumb. One star crap,” Colby Stimpson’s review read. A week later, a pallet of ball-peen hammers crushed a warehouse worker at an Amazon fulfillment center 1,200 miles away.

The allure of this new power kept Joel so occupied that he rarely left his room. He barely had time to eat between screeds and he had lost almost 20 pounds in a month. He had only seen his mother twice in that time, so he hadn’t noticed she, too, was quickly losing weight until she collapsed in the shower.

Joel’s fingers tapped on his knees, as much a nervous tick as a habit now as he sat next to his mother’s hospital bed. There were machines and tubes keeping her stable but the doctor warned him they were a temporary fix at best. Days, maybe hours, were all she had left.

Joel awoke the next morning to a nurse sitting next to him in the waiting room her a hand on his arm.

“Are you Mr. J. Porter? Annie’s son?” she asked as Joel sat up and nodded. “I’m sorry, sir, but your mother has passed.”

Joel spent the next two hours walking home to clear his mind and subconsciously avoiding his destination by taking the long way through a park. He sat at a picnic table for a moment and felt the tears cut chilly trails down his face in the crisp fall air. Phone in hand, he opened Facebook and searched for the hospital’s page.

“I wish I could surgically remove stars from the ratings because the doctors and employees here are MALIGNANT AND DISEASED and all their tools look more like they are from 1819 not 2019,” read Colby Stimpson’s review. “This place is so filthy I would not be surprised if they cause a new plague.”

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snarkwriteswrasslin · 4 years

Text

what ifs; adam page [four]

Notes:

And this is part four. And again, I swear.. I will be updating this as soon as I can get myself to focus and do it. [ part three ] if you missed it, I got you. I swear the angst will be lifting slightly. I mean it’s not going away completely just yet, but maaaybe there’s some fluffy stuff ahead.

Summary:

In the last chapter, a confrontation. And in this chapter, maybe Adam finds himself going to check on Ivy. But he’s totally over her, right? Perhaps..

Pairing:

Adam Hangman Page x OFC, Ivy Barlow

Warnings:

alcohol tw. angst. sexual tension.

Header made by me. Images found on google. If you didn’t make it, don’t claim it.

“ I thought I asked you to send the rest of my things, Ty…” Ivy rubbed her forehead, glaring at the phone when Ty immediately began to list all the other things he’d been busy doing with his time and then had the audacity to ask her if she were coming back anytime soon.

As if her breaking off their engagement, like everything else she told him or wanted, went right in one ear and out the other. The thought had Ivy rolling her eyes bitterly and her jaw clenched when he asked why she didn’t just come back to Florida to get her things.

“Because I’m done with Florida. I told you, Ty. We’re through. I won’t be changing my mind, you won’t talk me into coming back. Send my stuff or I’m going to get a lawyer.” Ivy didn’t even have the strength to deal with his shit tonight, she’d had a long enough day already.

… A certain cowboy from the farm across the pasture being everywhere you turned and having something to say about every breath you take doesn’t help… Ivy thought to herself as she hung up the phone while Ty was still on a tangent, trying to plead his side of things and make her feel as if she were being selfish and unreasonable for leaving to come back and take care of her family when she was needed. Or for ending things with him when he refused to even consider coming back with her. That wasn’t the action of someone who loved her or had her best interest at heart.

A lot of things she might have been, but idiot she wasn’t. She had more sense than to stick around with Ty when Ty was already trying to pull shit like this before the ink was even dry on their marriage certificate.

The phone rang again in her hands and she threw it onto the counter. Constance looked up and over at her from the dining table where she was helping Jenny and Jake with their homework for the night, a concerned and questioning look.

All Ivy could do was sigh and shrug. “I swear to God. I know how to pick ‘em.”

“He ever send the rest of your stuff?”

“Hell no, and I have my teaching license and other documents I need. They’re not even lettin me start teachin at the elementary until I have those on file. Fuckin fucker. He’s doin it on purpose. Well, it ain’t gonna work. I talked to somebody earlier and they told me how to get copies of all that stuff…” Ivy swore and picked up a piece of garlic bread, taking an aggressive bite as she flopped onto the high backed stool, resting her head against her hands. “He’s pulling his usual shit. I swear, you’d think at some point, he’d grow the fuck up. How the hell did I not realize how immature he was when I was with him?”

“What’s ‘at? His usual shit, I mean..” Constance questioned, eying her sister expectantly, waiting on an answer, concerned. They’d lost touch so naturally, Constance barely knew this guy Ty that her sister had been about to marry beyond a very brief and unimpressive meeting at a family holiday dinner at her mother’s house. The last one Constance bothered attending.

My own fault we lost touch, Constance thought to herself bitterly as she listened to her sister, worried that the situation might be more than Ivy was letting on.

“Where he digs in his heels and keeps blowing hot air up my ass. Trying to make me feel like I’m being selfish or childish. Trying to convince me that I don’t mean it when I say I’m done. Whoo… he’s got a surprise coming to him because I mean every word I said.”

“Ain’t a real bright one, is he? You need somebody to talk to him?”

Ivy snickered and eyed her 5’2 sister. “That’d be about like me trying to do that for your ex husband Jasper.”

“Well, you did, remember?” Constance pointed out the fact that Ivy had stood toe to toe with her former husband on many occasion back when the guy was drunk and angry and at his worst and scaring her to death.

“Pfft. I tried, you mean.” Ivy took the beer her sister held out, popping the top off against the counter and taking a long sip before finishing, “ But no. Sooner or later, Ty is gonna realize I’m not comin back and then he’ll move on. Then he’ll send my shit. Or worse case, I’ll go back for a few days and get the police to go out to the apartment with me and get it my damn self. It’ll be fine. I can just get replacements of all the documents I need, like I said.”

“You don’t think he’ll show up here and try startin anything, right?” Constance asked, again in concern for her sister’s well being.

“Oh, he damn well better not.” Ivy said it quick, shaking her head and adding with a laugh, “Nah. He looks down on this town, always talkin about me being better or something. Doubt he’d dare stepping foot here.”

“Yeah, I kind of felt like he was one of those snooty types when you bought him to Momma’s that time.”

“Ugh, do not remind me. And naturally, Momma loved him.” Ivy laughed and Constance laughed too, sighing as she shook her head. “That should’ve been my first sign to run for the fuckin hills, Connie.”

“Yeah, it really should’ve.”

“It’s been nice being home.” Ivy admitted after a few seconds, smiling at her sister. “Even if a certain guy’s made it his personal mission to tear into me for as much as breathing.”

“I wish you two would just talk.”

“There is no talking to that stubborn ass! You know how he is!” Ivy grumbled, hands moving a mile a minute as she proceeded to launch off on what Constance thought was entirely too passionate of a tangent for anyone who claimed to be ‘over’ their old high school sweetheart. She almost called Ivy on it, but she kept it to herself.

Ivy caught sight of the time and stood, making her way upstairs to get ready to go in for her shift at the club.

And the entire time she was showering, she found herself doing it again and again… replaying old memories back in her head and wondering what might have been if she hadn’t left.

By the time she shut off the shower, she was fully irritated and had no one to blame but herself.

XXX

“If you don’t care, why are you goin out there, man?” Rusty chuckled as he asked the question, preparing for Adam’s death glare. He wasn’t disappointed, either. “Don’t give me that look, man.”

“You know how that place is, Rusty.” Adam looked over at the other man and shrugged. “I might not care anymore, but I ain’t heartless. I don’t want… Nevermind.” Adam trailed off, sighing and shaking his head. He’d been trying to talk himself out of going to that damn hole in the wall club all afternoon and he hadn’t managed to yet.

“Yeah, I get it. I don’t blame you man. You want somebody to come with?”

“Nah. I think I can handle any of those fuckin jerks who always go there. Most of ‘em are drunks anyway.” Adam shrugged it off, avoiding his friend’s look as he said it, taking a long pull from the amber colored longneck bottle sitting on the wooden fence rail beside him. Mostly to change the subject and get it off of the mental images that talking about Ivy’s little night job bought up every time he thought about it, - the way Ivy writhed around on that stage, the way she gracefully slipped up and down the pole and that fucking wink she’d given him the night he’d caught her there, as if she didn’t have a care in the world, didn’t see the danger or problem in that particular club at all, Adam cleared his throat and nodded to the newest horse his father had purchased. “Reckon we’ll be able to break ‘im before I get back on the road.”

“Yeah, probably. He’s not the worst of the horses your old man’s bought n’ had us out here breakin in for him.”

“Yeah, speak for yourself. Bastard tried to throw me earlier. Me… The horse whisperer.” Adam chuckled at his joke and Rusty shrugged. “Maybe all that celebrity shit on tv’s makin you lose your little talent, buddy.”

“Hey! Watch your mouth. I’m still the same guy. I didn’t go off and change everything.”

“Like someone else we know?” Rusty couldn’t resist it and Adam grumbled, tensing all over. Rusty smirked to himself and shook his head. Ivy’s name didn’t even have to be mentioned to make Adam cranky.

That was the surest sign of all that contrary to what Adam insisted to anyone who might listen that his feelings for Ivy were far from ‘water under the bridge’. And that closure might not be a bad thing for either of them.

“Ya had to go there, didn’t ya?”

“Hey, you’re the one who said what you did first, Adam.”

“It’s true though!” Adam insisted, glaring across the pasture to the Bar Low.

“Whatever you say, man.. Look. If you need me tonight, call. Even if it’s just to take your drunk ass home. I don’t mind.”

Adam waved his hands, shaking his head at Rusty. “Nah. I got it handled. All I’m going to do is sit and have a beer or two, watch out and make sure it don’t get too rough.”

“And you say you don’t care…”

“I don’t.”

“You’re a doofus, Adam.”

“Go home to your woman, Rust. It’s gettin late.”

XXX

The door to the dressing room opened and the club owner - an older guy named Merle, peeked in. “We need a dancer on the main stage. Regular girl just got sicker n’ shit in one ‘f the bathrooms.”

Ivy’s eyes darted around the room, peering at the other girls. She hadn’t been here long enough to even think about offering herself up for the main stage but apparently, none of the other girls around her were even remotely interested in a main slot. “I can do it. I mean… I have a lot of experience dancin.”

Merle eyed her as if he were sizing her up and grumbling to himself, Merle shrugged. “Reckon you’ll do, Mary Sue.”

“My name is Ivy.”

“Is it now?” Merle gave her a humorless smirk as he nodded to the door. “You’re on, mary sue.”

“Again, sir… My name is Ivy.”

“Whatever, darlin. It’s too much hassle t’ try and keep names and faces straight with all of ya, woman. Now are you gonna go out and shake your ass or are you gonna argue cemantics all night?”

Ivy took a deep breath and pinched the bridge of her nose, starting towards the door.

Merle chuckled to himself and shook his head. The crowd was gonna eat that poor girl alive because the main stage was notorious for being the actual ‘skin show’. “She’ll learn t’ keep her mouth shut, I guess.”

Ivy barely had time to slip the platinum blonde wig down over her own hair before they started to play ACDC so she paused at the thick crimson velvet curtain and took a second to do so. Also to collect herself.

“Okay, I can do this. This is a smaller crowd than the club I danced in durin college in Florida. Easy peesy..” Ivy trailed off mid thought as soon as she peered through the curtain and saw just how rowdy the patrons of the club were out in the main stage area.

“TITTIES.”

“C’MON, MAN… WE GON SEE SOME SKIN TONIGHT?”

Ivy gulped and bit her lip. Yeah, she thought to herself, I may have bitten off more than I can chew here. They’re used to seeing full on skin shows and I am… Not about that life. I mean, yeah, I know what I’m doing when it comes to shakin my ass…

“Yer crowd is waitin, woman.” Merle appeared beside her, barely hiding a snort of laughter and shoving Ivy right out onto the stage.

Towards the back, Adam’s eyes fixed on the center stage the second the booing started. The second he realized Ivy was out there, hands moving over her body real slow, teasing at taking off articles of clothing, the grip on his longneck bottle got a lot tighter and he took a few ragged breaths. He tried to look somewhere else, anywhere but the center stage, but it was true what they said about watching a train wreck or any other disaster… Not that her dancin like that is anything close to bad, Adam found himself thinking, just what the hell makes ‘er take center stage if she’s not gonna get naked? - the thought had him chuckling just a little to himself, mostly to keep from focusing on his body’s betraying reaction to the way she crawled across that stage, ass going up and down, hips swaying side to side. When her hands went for the barely there black crop top, he nearly choked on the beer in his hand as soon as he’d taken a sip.

The thin black cloth settled onto the head of some guy sitting right up front and Adam growled to himself when that man thought it’d be funny to try reaching out to smack a handful of Ivy’s ass when she was bent over in front of him, hands wandering all over her body. Adam was on his feet and shoving closer to the whole thing before he even realized it or bothered to stop himself. As soon as it sank in, he leaned against a thick wooden post near the bar and did his best to stay out of sight.

Last thing he wanted was Ivy to know he was here. She’d probably just try to use it against him somehow.

His eyes fixed intently on Ivy as she finished her dance and as she practically fled from the stage, he couldn’t help but laugh to himself and shake his head.

… well, least I know she ain’t completely changed… he thought to himself as he made his way out into the parking lot, heading towards his truck just to attempt getting himself some air and walking it off before venturing back inside.

#adam hangman page fanfiction #adam hangman page fanfic #adam hangman page fic #adam hangman page imagine #adam hangman page imagines #part 4 of ?#// alcohol tw #// mentions of stripping #// angst oh god so much.#// fluff if you squint

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