Pairing: StarvingArtist!Johnny X Reader(with some characterization)
Genre: lots of angst, some fluff, and smut
Features: imperfect, awkward, fluffy sex with tons of kisses and caresses and uncertainty.
Summary: Johnny had lost it all, became invisible to the world, felt like nothing and absolutely defeated. He tried to stay positive but it was a joke. A passerby, huffing and sprinting through the dingy train station catches his eye and he wonders what life would be like happier with her. He wanted what he used to have, to feel loved, like he was someone’s someone.
A/N: I sobbed while writing this so good luck. Also will put some sort of moodboard/gif beneath the title eventually. Also also this is based in New York
Johnny Only Masterlist Other Stories Buy me a Ko-Fi
The heels of my boots clacked wildly against the dirty subway platform. I was late. Incredibly so. After a night of drinking with some friends I had slept through my alarm. My head was still buzzing and my stomach swished with nausea. Work was the farthest thing from my mind but I couldn’t call off. The friends I had gone out with were also my coworkers and I couldn’t risk them ratting me out. I had to at least pretend my body wasn’t on the verge of collapsing and that I was a fully functioning adult who hadn’t been irresponsible. It’s only 8 hours, I kept telling myself. Only 8 hours. And then an hour long commute to and from during rush hour so you’d be packed in between a bunch of hot, sweaty strangers in business suits or school uniforms. My so-called pep talk had failed miserably and for now I settled on reaching into my purse to retrieve my headphones and block out the world before I became more frustrated and grumpy at the irritating commuters. Without stopping, I fished around for them but when I pulled them out they were a jumbled mess. I scoffed loudly, ready to scream at my first world problems and inconveniences. As I fumbled through the knots and twists I heard a voice behind me.
“Hey beautiful stranger.”
I rolled my eyes. Fucking annoying cat callers. This early? I didn’t even look that good. They would go for anything with a pulse if it meant getting off on harassment. I ignored the voice and continued on my way, staring down the tracks and waiting for my day to be over.
I managed to wake up to my alarm this time. There was no rushing or haphazard throwing on of clothes. There was even enough time to stop at a food cart on the sidewalk and get a cup of coffee and a bagel. Starbucks was way too expensive for me and I saw it as a delicacy. The street carts ran by immigrants, though not the most top notch as far as health codes, reminded me of my childhood home. My mom knew all the cart owners and spoke to them everyday, on the corner, on her way to work, when we walked through the city and got hot dogs, all of it gave me a spark of happiness to start my day. I recalled how weird I was as a kid. I never wanted to eat the hot dog buns. Instead my favorite cart owner would wrap two hot dogs in aluminum foil for me, always laughing at my pickiness. After a ruffle of my hair my mother and I would be back on our way, continuing our shopping or park adventures.
I liked mornings like this where I could cherish the little things. It made me feel somewhat less lonely. My small and overpriced apartment was always empty save for myself. I spent nights either quietly on the couch or sometimes going out but it all still felt empty and like a routine. These moments reminded me that I was actually alive, a semi functioning person who had some cosmic role in this universe. Or maybe I was just a weirdo enjoying her bagel.
My descent on the subway stairs wasn’t as lively as yesterday. For whatever reason there was somewhat more room on the platform. I started heading to my usual waiting spot when I heard that voice again.
“Hey beautiful stranger.” It couldn’t have been the same catcaller from yesterday? What were the odds of that? Unless he had the same morning commute I did. That would be weird but it was the city and plenty of people had jobs to get to. That still didn’t give him permission to try and cat call me. I turned to look back at the voice and was taken aback with surprise.
He was young, around my age, his brown hair a little greasy from days unwashed but he was beautiful. He was smiling brightly, making his small eyes close and crinkle. It seemed so genuine for a homeless person.
