Pairing: bff!Jackson x Reader
Genre: fwb to exes(?), angst with a bit of crack
Rating: M
Summary: Jackson reaches his breaking point with his fwb while having coffee with you.
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: language, me being unable to drabble
You’d never seen Jacks so stressed out before. His baseball cap barely contained the rat’s nest of hair fighting for freedom. There were bags under his eyes, and he’d skipped shaving. None of which normal Jackson would allow. He prided himself on his appearance. At the moment, it looked like he could chain-smoke his way through a pack of Newports. For once, you considered canceling your Saturday morning hangout and sending him home to sleep.
“I can’t do it anymore,” he whispered. You looked up from your coffee, surprised. He looked at you and spoke through his teeth. “She’s fucking killing me.”
It took a minute for you to piece the context clues together. “Oh, your fuck buddy?”
He cringed. “I wanted her to be more than that. I thought…I thought if I was patient she’d see our potential.”
“Did you both agree to keep it no strings attached?” He nodded with a pout. “I won’t say it, but you know I’m thinking it.” You sipped from your coffee. “So, what happened?”
“I got a text from a friend telling me she’s hooking up with this guy who’s had it out for me for years. The closest thing I have to an actual nemesis.” He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, inhaling through his nose, then exhaling loudly through his mouth. “I honestly can’t see myself sleeping with her ever again.”
Your eyes widened as you puckered your lips in surprise. “Oh! Well, um. At least you figured that out before you made any life-changing steps.” You bit into your donut.
“Yeah, I guess that’s a plus, but I…” He huffed. “I thought she’d be different.”
“I mean, it isn’t like you didn’t go into this situationship with a mutual agreement. You said yourself that you weren’t looking for anything serious.”
He covered his face with his hands. “I thought we agreed to no ‘I told you so’ when it comes to heartbreak?” His voice was muffled, and it was difficult to take him seriously. “You can’t kick a bestie when he’s already down.”
“I’m not trying to! I’m just restating the facts hoping you’ll realize how ridiculous this sounds. You were hoping your friend with benefits, who agreed with you to keep it NSA, would say fuck it and fall in love with you. Hon, this isn’t a romance novel.” He dropped his head on the table, nearly knocking over his coffee. “In my opinion, it’s the loneliness talking. Everyone has a pet for a reason.”
“I can’t take care of a pet!” He sat up. “I can barely take care of myself.”
“You have a whole fucking entourage of people with you at any given time. Surely one of them can help. Or! How about asking one of them to be your emotional support person?”
He looked at me, visibly confused. “Why would I ask them when I have you?”
“Jackson?!”
You both jumped at the shrill call of his name. He immediately shrunk in on himself as you looked around for the source of the voice. A tall woman who had to be 95% legs was crossing the street towards your little table outside of the cafe. You looked at him, intending to ask if she was the topic of the morning, but he wouldn’t look up.
She reached the table and pushed his shoulder. “Hey, you jerk. Any reason you’re ignoring my fucking calls? Did you forget you were supposed to come over last night?”
Nevermind the fact that you’d never met her and she could’ve at least acknowledged that you were sitting there watching the drama unfold. Two seconds in and you were already done with her, but you wouldn’t leave unless Jackson was ready to go. So, you picked up your coffee and sipped loudly.
Jackson lifted his cap and pushed a hand through his hair. “Something came up. By the time I was done, I was too tired to drive.” He forced himself to look at her. “Sorry. I should’ve let you know.”
“But you’re here now with someone else?” She gestured at you. “I mean, you can just be honest with me. Just tell me you’ve found another fuck buddy.”
Your eyebrows shot up, and you nearly choked on your drink. “Excuse me?”
Jackson shook his head. “No. Absolutely not. You don’t get to stand there and make wild ass accusations when I have pictures of you all over someone else just hours after being in my bed.”
“The fuck are you talking about?” She took a step back, jaw dropped.
Jackson didn’t respond and instead picked up his phone. A few swipes and he held it up to her. “That’s you, right?”
Is this what it’s like to be a fly on the wall? You couldn’t see the picture, but oh boy, you could see her face, and she was losing color faster than an old monotone cartoon character. Fuck, you might need a bag of donut holes to substitute popcorn for this front-row entertainment.
“So what, you have your friends watching my every move now?” She folded her arms, and her gaze flicked over to you. “I can’t do what I want, but you have time for cute little coffee dates with nobodies?”
You scoffed. “Oh, please. Don’t let my being here distract you from the real issue.” You stood up, tossing your empty cup into the trash. “I’m going home.”
“What? You can’t leave me here.” Jackson tossed his trash and started after you, but his fuck buddy grabbed his arm.
“Excuse you—”
He jerked away. “Don’t. We’re done. Don’t call or text or message me on Insta—nothing. Forget I exist.” He turned away from her and marched over to you, grabbing your hand and tugging you towards his car.
“Are you shitting me right now?!” the woman screamed. “You can’t be serious.”
“Serious as a goddamn heart attack.” He opened the car door and gestured for you to get in. “Watch your head.”
She continued yelling at him as he went around to the driver’s side, but it was clear he wasn’t paying attention to a word she was saying. He got in with a huge grin as he put on his seatbelt. “So, what do you need to travel?”
“I’m sorry, what?” You looked at him with several degrees of concern. “What are you—” You remembered the previous conversation. “Jacks, no. When I said emotional support human, I meant someone already in a position to travel with you. I have a life here, a job that pays my bills so I can support that life.”
“Okay, but consider this: will that job pay for a vacation somewhere pretty like Bali?” He pulled away from the curb.
